#[ pri's navigation ]

[writingmeraki]

# PRI'S FORMULA ONE MASTERLIST.

#INDEX :

⟨✾⟩ : angst. ⟨✦⟩ : romance. ⟨⚘⟩ : fluff. ⟨◇⟩ : crack/humour. ⟨✰⟩ : reader's favourite. ⟨♡⟩ : personal/author's favourite.

✧. ┊ FORMULA ONE ( multi )

texts/ smau

3 AM shenanigans.

in which what the title says. it's 3am and shit ensues.

...oops? [ ◇ ]

in which you accidentally message the wrong number talking shit ( read:thirst ) about them but turns out the number isn't who you think it was.

well...maybe this is not so bad? [ ◇ ]

in which perhaps you accidentally messaging did not go as terrible as the second hand embarrassment made you think it would.

✧. ┊ CHARLES LECLERC.

nothing yet !

✧. ┊ CARLOS SAINZ.

nothing yet !

✧. ┊ MAX VERSTAPPEN.

nothing yet !

✧. ┊ LANDO NORRIS.

nothing yet !

✧. ┊ OSCAR PIASTRI.

nothing yet !

✧. ┊ LEWIS HAMILTON.

nothing yet !

✧. ┊ GEORGE RUSSELL.

nothing yet !

» main masterlist ?

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2023-25

[pri-rp]

Actually. cross that. Mitch might have really upset Cedric.

"...A risk of a rivalry relation."

[sttoru]

older bf satoru catches you masturbating <3

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. smut, pwp. age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). māsturbation. turns into cunnilingus. squirting. reader gets called ‘baby, angel, little girl’

you miss satoru so much. he had left you behind in his apartment after getting a call from a colleague, who needed help defeating a curse nearby. it’s been a few hours since then and you’re bored.

bored and horny.

you’re still riled up from the heated make out session you had with satoru before he departed. the one that got interrupted by that damned phone call. you need him back with you—for his slender fingers to touch you and his mouth to kiss you all over.

all you have of him is his shirt. you’re wearing it whilst laying back in his bed, the fabric seemingly oversized on your body. his scent is making you lightheaded. dizzy, to the point your hand moves down on its own.

“mhhg,” you cover your mouth with your free hand, not wanting to risk anything, even if you’re the only one in this apartment. you waste no time dipping your fingers underneath your panties, circling your clit with your thumb while your index and middle finger rub your moist folds.

all you can do is imagine that it’s satoru pleasuring you. he always does it so well—never once leaving you unsatisfied. you cannot recall the amount of times he’s made you squirt from just rubbing your cunt. you’re so touch deprived and he knows how to take advantage of that.

remembering that one moment where your boyfriend had you seated on his lap on the couch makes you increase the pace of your fingers. how he was so focused on listening to the news whilst gently rubbing your tingly cunt over the material of your panties, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

you recall how your panties were quite literally soaking after three whole orgasms. not once did his fingers directly touch your pussy, and yet he managed to elicit such strong reactions from you.

a frustrated whine in the shape of his name leaves your mouth. you want satoru back, so so badly. you want him to whisper sweet nothings inside of your ears as he makes love to you. that smooth and soothing voice of his makes you weak.

“fuck, angel,” satoru’s voice interrupts your little session. your eyes widen and you immediately pull your fingers out of your aching hole. you stammer and stutter, stumbling over your words as you look at the white-haired man standing at the doorframe of his room.

how do you even explain yourself?

your gaze flickers downwards which grants you the delicious sight of his bulge. his hand is right on top of it, indicating that he’s been touching himself before he decided to make his presence known.

satoru is panting, the sweat already starting to form on his forehead. he walks up to the bed and pries your hands away from your cunt. his cock stirs in his boxer briefs at the sight of you in his shirt. you’re so adorable to the older man. so needy. . .

without a word and like a starved man, satoru spreads your legs and yanks your panties down. your cunt is warm and soppy, the slick trail staining your underwear telling him enough. he doesn’t hesitate before diving his head between your plush thighs.

you feel a rush of warmth go through your body the instant his tongue comes into contact with your pussy. satoru’s nose repeatedly bumps against your clit as he tries to press his entire mouth onto your folds. his tongue lolls out, the tip navigating up and down your slit before pushing through, finding that little hole he can’t wait to devour.

“thank you for preparing my meal f’me while i was away,” satoru hums against your cunt before pulling back to allow his fingers to explore you. he glances up at you with a proud smirk before placing his mouth back where it belongs. he can’t let all the prep you did go to waste after all, “she’s fuckin’ delicious, baby.”

your hands pull at his hair in response, gaining a needy whine from your lover. he nearly chokes on both his spit and your juices. his hands hold onto the back of your knees and he uses that firm grip to push your legs further apart.

you’re nearly seeing stars. you didn’t even have time to register satoru’s sudden appearance. hell, you couldn’t even greet him or welcome him back home. that man wasted zero time in getting between your legs, eating you out like there’s no tomorrow.

you stumble over your own words. no matter how hard you try, not a sentence is able to form. all that leaves your mouth are moans of pure pleasure. your thighs shake and your hips buck against your lover’s mouth. you’re more than desperate for a release.

“c’mon, say my name again,” satoru sighs as he circles his tongue around your wet hole. he prods at it, tongue fucking you to acquire as much of your fluids as possible. your sweet wetness is making him throb in his pants, “mhmmm— my naughty little girl couldn’t wait.”

the older man feels great satisfaction at the thought of you being unable to withstand your pleasures. the sinful sight of you trying to fuck yourself with your little fingers on his bed, with his shirt on, is engraved in his mind forever. the second you moan out his name again, he goes all out.

satoru’s tongue doesn’t stop. even when you squeal and beg him to slow down because you feel like you’re going to cum early. that’s exactly what he wants; having you squirt all over his mouth and face. he needs to be covered with your slick.

you tug at his hair again - thinking that’d make satoru pull away - though the effect is the exact opposite. “nhh, do ‘t again,” he whines and moans against your folds, lapping up all that your pussy gives. the loud slurping noises reverberate throughout the room.

satoru’s eyes are closed, his furrowed brows adding to the concentrated yet content look on his blushing face. his lips, which are usually glossy, glisten even more with the liquid your cunt secretes. his eyes open every now and then to take a peek at you—to see if you’re still enjoying what he does.

“bet your small fingers weren’t enough, hm? y’ need mine?” satoru coos once he finally pulls his head back to breathe. he licks his lips as he stares at you with glazed and half-lidded eyes, totally pussydrunk. you don’t even have to respond to his questions. the answers are obvious by the way you’re trembling and desperately babbling incoherent pleas.

your boyfriend nods in understanding. he pouts at you while his fingers rub up and down your spread pussy lips. the pad of his thumb manoeuvres from your gaping hole to the little bundle of nerves at the top. satoru sticks two fingers in your cunt without warning. your high pitched whimper makes him coo at you, “yeah, i know, baby. let it out.”

the white-haired sorcerer pumps his long fingers in and out of you, a rhythm so addicting that it’s impossible not to give in. your back arches off the mattress. you’re trying your best not to stain satoru’s shirt with your juices, though you have a feeling he’d secretly like that anyway.

“am so close, ‘toruuu—fnngh,” you gasp and instantly feel satoru’s tongue replace his fingers. he wants to taste and feel your tight cunt spasm all around his tongue and mouth while you reach that point of no return. he’s going to try his best not to cum untouched in his pants this time.

satoru holds your hips with his big hands, keeping you down so he could properly eat you out and make you release all that tension. your pussy tingles and throbs, and you truly feel like you’re going to ascend.

it feels way too good. inhumanly good.

“cum on my tongu—“ satoru can’t even finish his sentence. a loud moan slips from between your lips, followed by a grunt from your boyfriend. his eyes roll back as your cunt releases more of its lewd fluids—spraying the liquid all over his mouth and chin.

you’re too busy trying to catch your breath to notice the mess you’ve created on satoru’s face and his sheets; a complete and total mess. the older man doesn’t mind neither. in fact, he enjoys it.

“shitttt, that was fuckin’ hot,” satoru flashes you a wide grin. he’s still somewhat drunk on you, which is visible by the way he’s licking up your mess from both his chin and your body. he cleans your cunt with his tongue—even if it’s overstimulating you.

he’s a greedy man when it comes to you. he wants more, more and more. whatever you’re offering, he will get.

satoru’s hands rub your sides to comfort you. he places soft kisses over your clit and pussy, as if he’s thanking you for the meal he just had the pleasure of devouring. he looks up at you with a cheeky smirk before laying his head against your inner thigh, his tongue peeking out between his glossy lips;

“think you can give me one more?”

[realcube]

— BEST FRIEND! SUNA

desc ;; after being blocked by a situationship, you show your best friend your nudes and ask for advice. tws & tags ;; nsfw mdni. distribution of explicit material, oral, objectification, mentions of squirting, breeding, anal & filming.

the door to suna's room creaks as you step inside.

after having spent all day bed rotting with your best friend, you decided to step out for some fresh air (and a quick smoke), and unsurprisingly, suna is still exactly as you left him — on his phone, leaning back against his headboard. he doesn't spare you a glance as you enter the room.

your phone is still perched precariously on the edge of his bed, and you approach it with caution. part of the reason you rushed outside was because during an awfully risque text conversation with a guy you've been talking to, you obliged and sent him some lewd pics. but he left you on read.

in your defence, it was a heat-of-the-moment decision, and he did request it, so it's not as though you were sending unsolicited images like some sort of perv. but the fact he was taking so long to respond did make you feel like one, though a small voice in your head tried to reassure you that surely he wasn't ignoring you, perhaps your pics have just given him something to take care of.

regardless, the larger part of you was moritified and unsure what to do, so you just dropped your phone on the bed and removed yourself from the situation — clearing your mind before you returned.

now, it was time for the moment of truth. you sat yourself awkwardly down on the corner of the bed, and hesitantly reached for your phone. no new notifications: that didn't fill you with much hope at all. after inputting your password, you navigated to the app and searched for his contact, and suspiciously it wasn't it your 'recently messaged' tab.

your heart was already thundering in your chest, but this only made it far worse. all your messages and chat history with this guy had disappeared, and when you tried to desperately type one out to him, it was immediately marked as 'failed to send'.

you frown, body going slack as you fall back onto the bed and defeatedly drawl, "he blocked me.."

suna finally perked up from his oblivious post at the other side of his bed, "who blocked you?"

"the guy i was texting.."

"that sucks." suna responded bluntly. though you couldn't blame him, he clearly didn't understand the severity of the situation, so you tried to explain it to him,

"you don't get it! i actually really liked him, and we were having such a nice time talking until.." you trail off, failing to find the courage to admit the shameful truth.

"until?" suna pried.

"rinny! can i ask you something?" you inquire, swiftly sitting upright as you shift the conversation, "can i send you some photos and you can tell me what you think of them?"

if suna was being completely honest, he was only half paying attention to whatever it was you were saying, so naturally he didn't notice the sudden change in topic of discussion — or he just didn't care. your new request wasn't foreign to him though; often you'll ask him to review random pics that you plan on adding to a photo dump online. or asking him to rank what order you should add the pics to your instagram carousel. or in which of these three images are you serving the most cunt. stuff like that, thus he agreed.

"sure. send them and i'll look."

"yay." you hummed with delight, and eagerly forwarded him the pics, "let me know what you think. i thought they looked fine but now i'm having second thoughts.."

he tapped the notification at the top of his screen and was directed to the chat with you. in which, he was met with an influx of images he was not expecting.

you, his best friend, who he's known for as long as he can remember, perched on your bathroom counter and posing for a mirror photo — wearing nothing but a floral thong and no top. your back was facing the mirror so he couldn't see your chest, but the plump globe of your ass was fully exposed and unshielded by the skimpy sliver of fabric.

his blood rushed to his head, and also his dick. his whole body was tense and thus his eyes were glued to the lewd picture of you, not only because he was mesmerised but also since he was so rigid he couldn't bring himself to move his thumb.

the furious pounding of his heartbeat rattled in his eardrums. he's never seen you so bare before. of course you've worn revealing clothes around him before — like when you go to the beach together, or sometimes when you're just hanging out in a warm environment — but never in such a purposeful or pornographic manner.

don't get him wrong, you've always been alluring to him but he just assumed that was just a part of your nature and he was being a sly pervert for secretly viewing you in an explicit way. like when you'd pull your hoodie off and your shirt would ride up and he'd get a peek of your underboob. or when you'd sit with your legs up on the couch while wearing shorts and he could see the outline of your sweet folds. it was undoubtably hot but that was never the intention, or so he assumed.

even though your back was to the mirror in the image, he could still tell that you weren't wearing any top, and the placement of your other hand just underneath the rotund curve of your ass was so deliberate and hot. it's like he was seeing you in a whole other light; he didn't know you were capable of being so sexy on purpose — he always assumed it was more of an accidental thing for you.

it's like his whole impression of you was shattering. maybe you weren't the sweet girl with a grimy sense of humour he thought you were; maybe you were truly a slutty bombshell. it was surreal and nauseating yet he still ached to see more.

though, before he began scrolling through the several other images you sent him, he gulped and turned the phone to show you the screen, "uhm, did you mean to send me this?"

you furrowed your brows together and leaned forward to inspect the screen, afraid you might've sent him pics of your medical anomaly that you meant to show the doctor. but once you examined the pic, you sighed and sat back in place, "yeah, those are the right ones." you state plainly, and suna proceeds to stare blankly at you, entirely speechless.

it freaked you out a little, so you attempted to fill the uncomfortable silence, "what do you think? that's what i sent to the guy before he blocked me. i thought they were kinda cute.. but there must be something wrong with them." he still looks astonished, so you clarify, "and he asked for me to send them, by the way. i didn't just do it randomly."

suna nods slowly as if that were of any reassurance what-so-ever. you press him to continue looking, and he cautiously does so. his thumb moves on his own as he swipes through the multiple suggestive images you sent him. and his dick begins to throb looking at each one.

they are all so hot; makes him feel so perverted for enjoying it. many are taken in your bathroom mirror, a string bikini top with a measly little thong on. he recalls you wore that exact set to the beach with him one time, except you were wearing a floral sarong too. it was sheer but there was still enough fabric to obscure you're delicious ass. but in this picture it was all out for the camera.

there was even a couple shots from that one halloween where you went as a zombie cowgirl. the costume itself was cool but suna recalls it wasn't revealing or intentionally 'sexy' or anything like that — which is why his heart leaped upon seeing your various upskirt pics, that were probably taken after he walked you home after a night out. some were shot directly up your skirt, showing the plushness of your ass up close, while others were taken in your bedroom mirror. either with you lifting your skirt up teasingly, or full-on bent over for the camera. from certain angles, he could even see the imprint of your lips through your thin panties which drove him absolutely insane.

to think, if he was smart enough that night, he could've stayed over at yours and buried himself in that cute ass, that you were clearly so desperate to show off. could've ate that pristine hole and felt your soft ass cradle his face. it's as though he could hear the adorable little noises you would've made, ringing in his ears.

he been gawking at his phone screen for a while, saying nothing, so you pry, "i look fine, right, rin? c'mon, please don't tell me i look weird! i thought these pictures were cute, so i don't know why he didn't like them.." you whine with a frustrated pout. you really don't understand men, thus you were hoping suna would be of some assistance, but he wasn't even saying anything or providing useful insight. just gaping at his screen.

"uh, they look.." he started, voice trailing off as his eyes were still glued to your perky ass clad in nothing but a thong, and his mind began to run wild with fantasies, "uhm.."

you interpretted his lust-fuelled daze as disinterest, and sighed. "really? they're that bad. what's wrong with 'em? i don't get it.. oh! is it because i'm leaving to much to the imagination? are they not overt enough?" you bite your lip as you antsily scroll through your secure folders and forward him some additional pictures, "look, i have dirtier ones. whatdya think? are these ones better?"

as promised, the new images you sent him were dirtier. filthy, in fact.

now you were wearing absolutely nothing. suna choked on his own spit at the sight of you stood bare in front of your bathroom mirror, posing suggestively for the camera. your whole pussy was exposed and so were your erect nipples, that he had previously only seen when they were teasing him by straining against the fabric of your tank tops.

he knew you were attractive but it was shocking to realise that is the body you've been hiding this whole time. had he knew that earlier, he would've ripped your clothes off a lot sooner.

in some of them your hair was wet and the bathroom mirror was steamy, as though you had just gotten out of the shower. for the most part he's been hyper-focussed on your seductive body, however, he's suddenly beginning to notice things in the background. like the pattern of the bathroom tiles.. and the shape of the mirror.. and the colour of the countertops.. shit, were some of these taken in his bathroom?

there was no denying it. the reality came crashing down on him like a sack of bricks and knocked the wind right out of him. at some point, he was chilling in his room, probably playing video games or texting his friends without a care in the world, patiently waiting for his turn to shower, while you were in the adjoining bathroom, posing for nude selfies and showing off your slutty tits for the camera. in his mirror.

fuck, if only he knew. now he feels like an idiot. the things he would've done to that hot body in the shower, his dick aches just thinking about it. he'd need to finish in you so many times, until his cum was drooling out of you and he'd only stop once the water ran cold.

there were shots with your legs spread too. on halloween again, your skirt was hiked up and your panties were pulled to the side, exposing your glistening cunt. he'd do anything to lock his mouth to those puffy folds of yours. taste that sticky, juicy cunt. even without flash, your pussy was visibly soaked with your arousal. it coated your lips and stuck to your inner thighs.

and the sight of your tantalising hole was enough to make him light-headed. so puckered and cute for the camera. and it was about the tightest little thing he's ever seen. from the way your own juices soak your pretty pussy, he could tell you were undoubtly needy that halloween night. he hates himself for not burying his cock into that snug hole and stretching you out. pounding his fat dick into over and over, and making you take it. or his tongue, then he wouldn't stop until you squirt in his mouth, and he'd keep going for several rounds until you—

"hellooo? earth to rinny. anybody there?" you wave your hand in between his dry eyes and the phone, which momentarily rips him out of his horny trance.

"huh?" he groans, confused as to what you are disturbing him for, when he was so close drinking up your first orgasm (in his imagination.)

"do you think i should've sent the dirtier pics?" you pondered aloud, waiting for suna's much-needed input, "maybe he blocked me because he thought i was a prude, or something like that."

"you're definitely not a prude." suna utters his first coherent (and sfw) thought in the last ten minutes. "why.. did you send me these?"

"so i can get your opinion, dummy!" you roll your eyes, prodding at his shoulder, "that's what i've been syaing this whole time. it's not like i'm showing you my nudes for fun."

"right.." his brows twitch, trying his best not to even glance down at his phone screen, as he knows he'll be distracted again, "i think you look fine."

"fine?!—"

"—great! you look great." suna swiftly corrects himself, then continues, "why do you care that some guy blocked you? he was probably just an asshole."

"what if he blocked me because he thinks i'm hideous?" you whine.

"you're not." he states plainly. "but if you're that worried about it, i could help you take some better photos."

"really?"

"yeah." he slowly stands up from the bed, weary as to conceal his throbbing erection as he moves, "what're friends for?"

you smile gently up at him, and without further question, you begin to remove your clothes. in truth, you are a bit hesitant because you've never purposefully stripped for him before — yeah, sometimes you guys would change in front of each other, but that was never as intimate as this. however, you persevered because you felt as though during your embarrassing moment, you reached a new level of friendship and camaraderie with suna. one in which you could be more vulnerable with each other.

first to come off was your jumper, then your shorts, and next thing you knew, you were laying completely nude out in front of suna. he loomed over you, grasping onto his phone camera for dear life. his eyes were zeroed in on your tits, but you tried your best to ignore that and giggled, "how should i pose first?"

rintaro forced himself to gulp down whatever hedonistic thoughts were brewing in his mind, for now. he didn't want to risk appearing too eager, even if your naked body in such close proximity to him almost caused knees to give out under him. he needs to act casual. "lay on your front."

you do as you are told, and you mewl slightly as his cold hands runs over the back of your thigh, massaging your silkly flesh. he kneeds the doughy meat of your ass with his palms, then promptly spreads your cheeks to expose your puckered asshole. you can almost hear his devilish grin as he snaps a photo and hums, "there we go. so tight for the camera. you wouldn't mind if i.." his muses, as his fingers idly dance over your rear, playfully poking your ass until they sneak down to prod at your hole.

then, without warning, he shoves two digits straight in, takes the pic then yanks them back out. your back arches instictively at the lewd intrusion, "ngh, rinny!" you squeal, scrunching your features, "just take normal ones.."

"this is the sort of stuff guys like, though." he reassures, stroking your perky ass, savouring the sensation of your supple skin under his hand. "action shots."

"hmm.." you considered his suggestion, bearing in mind that he's a horny fuck that probably just wanted to stick his fingers inside you, "maybe my old pics are a bit vanilla.." you admitted.

"yeah. they're hot but you could look a lot hotter." he said, blinkly slowly, "you know what guys like? squirting pics."

"...really?" you raised an eyebrow, peering over your shoulder so he could see your clearly dubious expression.

"mhm. most guys are super turned on by it. you could land any guy if you had a pic like that." he explains with an absurd amount of sincerity and confidence, despite the fact he pulled all of that out of his ass.

"and how would i get a photo like that?" you slowly roll over onto your back, so you're looking up at him while he's stood at the edge of the bed, holding your thigh in one hand and his phone in the other — with his camera pointed directly at you.

"i guess i'd have to tongue fuck you.." he says 'begrudgingly'.

"oh i'd never made you do that, rinny." you're onto his agenda, since he does a terrible job at hiding it. the massive tent in his pants was making it too obvious that he wanted to fuck you. but you like to tease him about it. "i could just use a vibrator, while you take the picture."

his face drops, "uh," he splutters, not anticipating pushback, "girls can't squirt.. with vibrators." he blinks. the lies were somehow becoming less and less believable, despite how they weren't very convincing to begin with.

"that's a shame." you bow your head in attempt to suppress a chortle at his ridicoulous claim. finally, you decide to give him what he wants, "would you please tongue fuck me, then, rinny?" you bat your eyelashes at him.

"...sure."

[bettystonewell]

Whatever This Is

Read on AO3 || Main Masterlist

Dean Winchester x Reader

You’ve been sleeping with Dean for weeks. You never established what you were doing, just going with the flow, until a vulnerable moment makes for an awkward tangent to ask and find out 2.3k words

Tags/Warnings: fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers, miscommunication, menstruation, cramping, embarrassing moment for reader, lil bit of humour, Dean is unfazed and an absolute sweetheart, set somewhere in Season 3

Four AM and you’re freezing your tits off. Miserable. Cramping. You give Dean a petulant pout as he waits patiently on the sidewalk for you. Instant regret when you remember he’s currently the sweetest man on earth, navigating through your wrath in his stride, and doesn’t deserve whatever this is.

It’s not his fault your ovaries are punishing you for another successful thwart at reproduction. Not his fault your body is replicating a thousand knives, stabbing you at once in the same spot, even though you’ve had a dose of tylenol. 

Except it is.

He’s half to blame because he wanted the sex, too. There’s an IUD shoved up in there because you decided long ago that taking the pill was far too risky in this business, and he gets to go in without suiting up thanks to past you. 

You cannot have a kid right now. Not only are you both too young and this is far, far too new, but there’s the little detail about him being sentenced to hell to top things off. And you, stopping at nothing to stop it, when you’re not a whimpering puddle of hormones. 

You’re quite the pair.

“C’mon, sweetheart.” He pries your bundle of soiled clothes from your tight grip and offers out his other hand.

“I can manage from here,” you say, but he shakes his head. Pulls you out Baby’s door and through the one belonging to the laundromat, setting you down on the row of chairs in the middle without another word.

He drapes his leather jacket over your shoulders, wrapping you in warmth and whiskey. Sweats, also his, that had hung off your hips, now balloon at your sides.

He’s wearing what he went to sleep in. His hair, still road worn at the back as he feeds your laundry into the machine.  

Your cheeks are warmer. You were all for throwing a tonne of salt on your pjs and lighting them up, but his superhuman powers of simply existing had him rapping on the bathroom door before you’d so much as rinsed the evidence away under the faucet. 

He saunters back over to you and sits down with a groan. Makes a spectacle when he throws his arm over yours and kisses your temple. “You good?” he says, and all you can do is nod. “Nothing to be embarrassed about. S’only natural.”

You lean into him. Let his body further warm yours and your nostrils with the added fruity smell of Tide. “You didn’t bleed all over the place.” 

“Not this time.” He shrugs.

But you’re still not convinced. The blood on the motel sheets didn’t come from your arm or your leg. It came from your hoo-ha, and while he’s right, it’s nothing to be ashamed of because it is perfectly natural. It happened in the same motel room you were sharing with Sam. In the bed you were sharing with Dean. And it happened even though you’d been prepared.

Worst of all, he’d put his hand in it, and while he insisted it wasn’t an issue, you’ve only been sleeping with him for three weeks. Came about after a drunken confession that he was scared shitless ‘bout going to hell, and it kind of stuck. You don’t even know if he is that to you, which makes this ten times worse. 

“Hey.” He nudges you with his hip, squeezes his arm tighter. “We’re busting out of this place today. It’s not like they’ll even remember you if we stay here again.” He tries like that’s the problem.

You know it’s to make you smile, and you appreciate it, you do, but, “That’s not what I’m worried about,” you say. 

“Then what is?” 

He releases his hold on you. Leans forward and back at the same time. Finds the angle that works for him and narrows his gaze at you.

Green eyes pierce your mortified ones, because now you have to tell him, ask him, and you’re licking over your lips, trying to moisten them so the words have something to slip on.

You’re an adult. You got this. Asking what you are to him should be the easiest thing in the world, but there’s that stigma that you’re not worthy. Just a little girl who messes up her bed. Drags her guy friend out in the middle of the night to clean up said mess and watches on as he cleans it up. 

“This.” You splay your arm out in front of you. Wave it around the general expanse of the room you’re in. 

“What? The laundromat?”

“No.” It’s not the place you’re pointing out. Not the wall of washing machines ahead, thirteen of them empty, bar that one, top centre, tumbling your clothes through its big barrel. Not the driers on the other wall, just as big. 

It’s the being here with him. Him sitting here with you waiting. Him acting like boyfriend material, when you don’t know where you stand.

“This,” you say. “Us.”

“Me and you?” His brow furrows. Voice normal, because he still doesn’t get it. 

“Yeah. Us.” You exemplify the you-and-him part with your still flailing arm. 

“Me helping you with your clothes is the problem?” He sits up, though you still feel his eyes on you. 

“Yes.” 

Thank god he gets it now. Only, “How?” he’s asking next, and you could shake him. Why do guys have to be so dumb?

Your hand is moving back and forth between you. You’re stretching to sit up and match him, but it’s cramping your cramping and you’re trying desperately to calm yourself down before saying, “We’re just fooling around. But you’re helping me with my period? It’s a little—”

“You think I’m fooling around?” Dean stands, and though he doesn’t turn around, you don’t need to see his face to know he’s angry. His bowed legs are twitching like they do when he gets mad. 

“It’s not like you’ve asked me out,” you say, defensive. His hot-temper and the pain are a little too much to handle together, but it’s also a little too late to back off now. “We haven’t sat down and talked about this.”

“About us?” He turns, jaw cutting the air. Sharp lines cross his whole face, actually. His brows, the crease between them, his lips, and god those are perfect, and you’re about to lose whatever this was that allowed you to touch them. Taste them, and all you can do is nod.

“What were you expecting me to do? Take you out to some fancy five-star restaurant and buy you lobster?”

Your head rocks to the side. Cheeks rising to squish your lashes as you stare back at him and blink through it. If they were warm before, they’re as hot as the heat pack you’d used earlier during the night before all this occurred. 

“Why—”

“Saw it in a movie once,” he says, words coming out the quickest you’ve heard him speak. The usual gruffness dissipated like he’s de-aged a couple of years by simply standing there. “Snails look gross.” 

“Another movie?”

He nods. 

You wanna ask what the hell he’s been watching, but you’re more concerned by his unusual demeanor. His hands are fidgeting, smoothing his sides. His eyes have dropped to the floor and there’s the whole eating shell…fish thing?

“Look at me,” he says next, but you are. 

You’re seeing his tentative step forward. His arms splayed out like he’s showing you something more than what’s there, and that’s when you realise you’re the one that’s dumb. You’re the one that’s not getting it. 

He didn’t fuss once. Didn’t screw up his nose at you when he realised you weren’t hurt from the hunt like he originally thought. And you’re not saying all the men that have ever been in your life have been grossed out by periods and bodily functions, but Dean exceeded whatever expectation and stereotype you had. 

He’d insisted you stay at the motel while he came here for you, but you were too embarrassed to allow that. Too prudish to let the guy who’s seen all of you up close and personal do something even more intimate than even you’d prefer and now he’s standing there suggesting he’s not good enough? 

“I am looking at you,” you say. “Guess I wasn’t before, but I am now.” 

And even though it still cramps your cramps, you’re standing up and walking over to him. Feeling his jacket clip your sides where his sweats have fallen. You’re clinging to his shirt and pulling him in close so you can kiss those lips of his and taste. 

You’d put your all into it, but his hands are hovering at your waist and you know his eyes are wide open, watching. So you lean back, chew on your cheek, smooth the fabric of his shirt back from where your grip scrunched it up, and, “Sorry,” you whisper. You’re not sure what else to do, but what you’re apologising for is lost on you, too.

It’s not like it’s the first time. He’s kissed you plenty, and not just the peck on your forehead minutes earlier. His mouth has touched every inch of your body, and every inch of him has touched yours, so why is this so damn hard now?

Your chin drops like a scolded child. May as well have with the silence between you. Can’t say the same for the room, but the tumbling of the drum is only making things worse because the clicking of your clothes is acting like a countdown for the timer on the machine and whatever he’s going to do next.

Do you say something? Do you wait for him? Your cheek is going to have a hole in it soon if someone doesn’t say something and thank god, or not, his mouth opens to, but, “Forget I said anything,” you cut in. Shake your head and step away from his space. “I should’ve—”

“Would you just shut up?” His voice booms, and great, there’s that gruffness you were missing. 

Your nose tingles from his stare, and you’re opening your mouth again, but the look he gives you? Eyebrows to the heavens, green eyes looking more amber, like they’ve been lit by a flame? Yeah. You close it, chest heaving as you wait and listen.

“I just,” he says, and it’s quieter. “I thought we were on the same page.”

His fingers reach for yours and he pulls you back. If you were on a boat, you’d be dealing with motion sickness right about now, and truly, it’s how your stomach’s fairing. Just adding more to the discomfort of your middle, and why not? You’ve already given Dean a conniption. What’s one more grievance between the two of you?

“I’m no good, sweetheart. I’m going to hell.”

You want to interject with why that is. That it was a selfless act, but his thumb rubbing over the back of your hand, teed with the softness in his voice and the continual ‘I’m talking here’ glare keeps your lips tight. 

“Can’t say I’d be happy if I saw you picking up some other douchebag at the bar. Like to think I’m the only guy that gets to do your laundry. Least until,” he shrugs. Gives you a rueful smile, “y’know?”  

And you do know. You’re swallowing the ache in your throat, waiting just a little longer to make sure he’s finished before you try again. 

You nod, and it’s solemn, slow. You don’t want to think about it, but the truth is there, hanging over both your heads. An elephant in the room who’s laughing at you and your complaints. Where Dean’s going, he’s going to be feeling a lot more than any tylenol could alleviate, and it really puts things in perspective. 

So, “Yeah,” you say, and though you want to add you don’t want to pick up anyone else but him, ever, it’s a little too real, too involved than whatever this thing is now. You’d rather be trying that kiss again, but first you add, “As long as you’re not doing the same.”

“Cross my heart.” His mouth opens wide as he tugs your arm. Pulls you in and plants his mouth over yours.

It steals your breath away. The way he holds you. Wrapping his arms around your torso and squeezing, gentle enough to not cause you anymore discomfort, but present enough to soak in his warmth and solid form.

His tongue clips your teeth, spreads his morning breath and a taste that you know only from him over your lips. 

Your gut calms. The cramps overpowered by the tingles from his nose, his fingers, chin and arms surrounding you, touching you, and you don’t want it to end. 

But Dean lets go, only by a little. His face stays hovering inches from yours as he stares into your eyes. 

“So have I made myself clear?” he asks. Chuckles when you rap his shoulder. His hand lets go and swipes at a strand of hair that’s probably been sticking out since you woke. Tucks it behind your ear.

You’re a bigger mess than you’ve been letting on, but the gesture returns his grin. 

“Not fooling around?” you say, and he repeats it. Places a kiss on your forehead again, and drags you back to the seats. 

His arm wraps around your shoulders once more and your head leans into his. 

Four AM, and you’re no longer freezing your tits off. Cramping? A little, but the pouts, no longer there. There’s a warmth in your cheeks and one in your heart, though, and you’re sitting with the sweetest guy in the world.

You won’t label it. There’s no need. You know he’s hanging around, at least as long as he can. You just gotta find that loophole. Keep him here with you and Sam, and then who knows? 

Maybe one day you’ll leave this life of visiting laundromats at odd hours because you’ll have a place of your own. 

And then, the only red you’ll see will be the one you’re dealing with now, and the shade that crosses Dean’s nose when he says something real and important.

This started out as another idea for Couple Things involving Dean and his red gym teacher shorts, also at the laundromat, but it developed into what it is now. I’ll probably still write the other version as a part two to this eventually.

Dean Taglist #1

@globetrotter28 @ambiguous-avery @arcannaa @jollyhunter @zepskies

@reluctanthalfwayoptimism @supernotnatural2005 @jackles010378 @kaz-2y5-spn @applelovesposts

@jaydensluv @foxyjwls007 @deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @waynes-multiverse

@kazchester-fanfiction @maddie0101 @ladykitana90 @luvr4miya @amyjam78

@stoneyggirl2 @winchesterwild78 @missywinchester15 @deansbbyx @kr804573

@lyarr24 @salemslostwitch @mostlymarvelgirl @ladysparkles78 @multiversefanfics

@31miw-inkpsycho @yoursrosie @Theantisoci-alone @roseamie13 @krazykelly

@my-stories-vault @amberlthomas @levine-23 @ultimatecin73 @district447

@hobby27 @aylacavebear @stellawritesstories @middleearthlife @yeehawgiddyup13

@redwinexsupernova @artemys-ackles @kimxwinchester @bejeweledinterludes @impala67rollingthroughtown

If you’d like to be added, you can add yourself HERE, or if you’d like to be removed, please let me know ☺️

[sungchanphile]

strangers who knew each other very well 𐙚 jung sungchan

༄.° WORD COUNT: 18.6k ༄.° PAIRING: riize's jung sungchan x female!reader ༄.° TAGS & WARNINGS: exes!au, angst, fluff, slightly aged up riize ༄.° SONGSPO: scott street - phoebe bridgers ; woojooin - seo youngju ; spring into summer - lizzy mcalpine

༄.° SYNOPSIS: you're back in town for the first time in four years because your best friend is getting married. it sounds easy enough, apart from the fact that you broke the best man's heart 4 years ago and haven't dared shown your face since. ༄.° NOTES: inspired by hong sijun and son jua from melo movie aka my all time favourite k-drama second couple !! the title comes from the episode that focuses on them in the drama <3 this is kinda similar to my other second chance romance sungchan fic, but i think i wrote it differently enough to be a worthwhile separate fic :>

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

i. anyway, don't be a stranger

You knew this day was coming, but that didn't mean it hurt any less.

The train screeches to a halt and the passengers around you get up in a buzz to collect their belongings and crowd around the double doors.

You watch stoically as they step out of the train for an adventure in the big city or to return to their busy lives. You stay still, clutching your carry-on suitcase and just wait, maybe even until you're kicked off the train.

Seoul Station is the last stop on the route, but you're in half a mind to jump platforms and get on the next train going to somewhere you hoped was far away from here.

"Ma'am," you hear a voice call out to you kindly and you turn to face a young woman with a slightly concerned look on her face, "Is this your stop? The train ends here."

You blink, "Yeah, it is. Sorry- I'll get going."

"Have a good day," she wishes you sweetly, but you know that's a luxury you will find hard to come by these days.

You pry your large suitcase from the luggage compartment and step out into the station.  You're still underground, but it hurts like no other to finally step foot in your home for the first time in years. Breathing this air doesn't feel refreshing; it feels like you're suffocating.

Sluggishly, you navigate the maze that was the station until you surface to the public area. You're not that familiar with the place anymore; it's been a long time, but you make it up to where you had arranged to meet your best friend, finding her already there.

"My Y/N," Hana envelops you into a tight, warm hug as soon as she lays eyes on your solemn face, "How are you?"

"I'm good, Hana," you reassure her as best as you could muster.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't get you from the airport," she apologises as she pries your luggage out of your grip, "Taro had the car, but he's on his way to pick us up outside."

You faintly remember her saying something about last minute wedding errands he had to run that precluded your best friend being able to pick you up herself off the plane.

"I could have made it to your house by myself," you chide, "I used to live here, after all."

Hana's smile falters for a second at your voluntary mention of the past, but she brushes you off, "I wanted to welcome you back."

You notice her avoidance of the word home and you're thankful because a reminder of what was once a happy memory has turned into the opposite is something you've been trying to forget.

She leads you out of the busy station and to a pick-up zone outside. It's a sweltering summer day with the sun beating down relentlessly. It's something you haven't missed about Seoul after trading your extreme weathers for the grey skies across the world.

"Look, Y/N," Hana begins hesitantly as you watch the cars zoom past you, "Thank you for coming all the way here and doing this for me. I know it's gonna be hard for you, but I'm still here for you, okay?"

You knock shoulders lightly, "What kind of a best friend would I be if I missed your wedding? We've been planning our weddings since we learned what one was."

Hana chuckles lightly, mind flashing back to the days you spent designing wedding dresses and choosing songs for your wedding playlists, "I know right?"

You fall into silence as you both reminisce. Everyone thought you were going to get married first. You always wanted to get married young, ever since you met your first love at 14 and started dating at 16. You had everything you wanted planned out- the cake, the flowers, the shoes, the gifts, the groom.

Life doesn't always work out the way you want it to- you learned that at 22.

"I'm an adult, Han," you exhale, "I promise it'll all be okay. I can do this."

"You're the best, Y/N. I really missed you, by the way," Hana admits as her eyes lock onto a car.

It's only been 7 months since you last saw each other, but you spent the first 22 years of your lives practically conjoined until you moved away 4 years ago. You'll never forget the shock and joy you experienced when she turned up at your door alone out of nowhere with a rock on her finger and a gift box asking you to be her maid of honour for her wedding set in 7 months time.

"I missed you too," you return fondly.

A large, black car stops in front of you and the window rolls down to reveal a face you haven't seen in a while.

"If it isn't the Y/N back in Seoul," Shotaro flashes you his famous smile from the driver's side. You wave at him excitedly and drag your bags to the boot that he's opened from the inside. It's a busy road and he can't hop out and help, but between you and Hana, you fit the bags into the spacious boot. It's not even that much- you've only packed to stay two weeks.

You climb into the backseat and Shotaro turns around to take in the fact that you're really here. You reach over to squeeze his shoulder, "I haven't got to say congratulations in person yet, so congratulations on the wedding. You bet that we're going to have another best friend talk soon."

Shotaro and Hana choke in surprise at your menacing words. The Japanese man crinkles his eyelids in amusement, "I wouldn't have expected anything less, but thank you Y/N."

When they started dating years ago, you had cornered Shotaro at a house party and warned him so terrifyingly about what you would do if he ever broke your best friend's heart that he couldn't look you in the eye for the rest of the week. It was fair anyway, considering the talk your own best friend had given your first love when you started dating.

The drive to their house was a fair journey that you spent with your eyes screwed tight pretending to be asleep. You couldn't bare the thought of having to look out the window and catch the familiar streets you had grown up on and made so many memories on. This trip was always going to end in heartbreak for you, but you wish to delay the onset.

Hana calls your name softly when you arrive and you do a slow-blink to try to convince her. You don't know if she believes it, but she doesn't say anything otherwise.

It's weird that you haven't stepped foot in her adult home after you made her childhood home your second one and lived in the same apartment through your college years. You can still picture her teenage bedroom with the pink walls and the Fin.K.L poster across her double bed. You spent hours and hours in your college rooms eating ice cream and watching films together. Now, you don't even know the number outside her door.

"Welcome to our humble abode," Hana smiles proudly as she unlocks the front door.

They live in a very nice area, afforded by Shotaro's idol choreographer salary and Hana's lawyer income. It's obviously a beautiful home, decorated very cosy with sprinkles of their personality dotted around.

They show you to the guest bedroom and point out all the items Hana prepared for your two week stay in the house, despite the fact that in ten days' time, they were jetting off to their honeymoon the morning after the wedding. She had put together an adorable and thoughtful welcome basket with everything you might need and your heart clenches at the kindness of your best friend.

Over these years, Hana has been patient in coming to you versus you coming to her. Your blatant refusal to come back to Korea has limited your live meet-ups to once a year, twice if you could find some wiggle room in your budgets, but her wedding meant you couldn't put it off any longer and had to face your fears.

While Hana was your best friend, Shotaro had his own best friend acting as his best man. You always knew this was coming- even from the moment you introduced your best friend to your first love's best friend in freshman year of college.

He wasn't the only reason you were avoiding coming back, but he was the main one. You'd like to think that time heals all and maybe it has, or maybe it's just shoved that little pocket of pain deeper and deeper out of sight until the day you finally are forced to face it. Unfortunately for you, that day has come.

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

Hana was kind enough to give you the night to settle before everything kicked into full force. She knew it would be too much for you to get off the plane and have to face your ex-boyfriend, so she pushed the meeting that required both of you as much as she could until there was no time left.

You woke up bright and early, although your stomach was in ropes at the thought of seeing him again. You hoped that the very long list of errands you had to do would distract you enough from all the emotions swirling in your stomach.

It was only 1pm, but you had already visited the bridal shop to do a fitting of your maid of honour dress, considering you couldn't try it on when you were over 5000 miles away. Thankfully, it didn't need a lot of alterations and you could pick it up in the next few days. She continued distracting you by trying on her wedding dress in front of you, causing you to shed a few tears. You were virtually present during her dress hunt, but seeing it for the first time in person really made it sink in that your very best friend in this world was getting married.

The very next thing in your agenda was a meeting with the wedding planner to finalise the timings of the day. You were going to meet at a café- a safe and public space for you to finally see your ex-boyfriend after a number of years that you wished you stopped counting.

Hana parks her car along the road opposite the café and the second you stepped out the car, you were slapped across the face by the side-profile of your first love through the large window, a wide smile on his features as he chatted with his best friend.

Hana squeezes your hand, "Tell me if it gets too much. I know it's gonna be hard."

Sungchan looks so familiar that your heart squeezes at the sight of him. It's the body that you fell asleep across for years on end, the hair you used to run your fingers through when you talked late at night, the smile that made your heart race every day- it was still him.

Your breath hitches when he begins to turn in your direction. Before you can make eye contact, Hana tugs at you to enter the café, murmuring reassurances towards you that she was going to be here for you- even at her own wedding events, she was still being selfless.

"Hana, Y/N," Shotaro calls the two of you over as soon as the door jingles open and he spots you, "I ordered your drinks."

Hana squeals at the sight of the indulgent hot chocolates, but worriedly looks over at you to see your reaction. You're looking down at your feet and Sungchan is staring straight up at you.

"Hey, Sungchan. How are you?" Hana chuckles awkwardly, tugging you to her side to sit down at the round table. When the wedding planner arrives, they'd sit between you and Sungchan, so you could have that distance.

"Good, Hana, thanks," he breaths out as the corners of his mouth drop, "Hi, Y/N. It's been a while."

Your eyes shoot up to meet his, "Uhm, yeah. Hi, Sungchan."

It feels like you haven't said that name out loud in years- it brought you too much pain before. You're immediately saved by the wedding planner, thankfully, who appears out of nowhere and apologises profusely for her delay. She denies ordering a coffee, and begins to spread binder, papers and tablets all over the table.

Hana squeezes your hand under the table and your eyes point down to your thighs.

"Maid of honour and best man, I take it? It's nice to meet you both," the planner Jian smiles sweetly after catching her breath, "How'd you guys know the couple?"

You nod with a terse smile, "Childhood best friends."

Sungchan lets you finish before he bumps shoulder with Shotaro, "College roommates. We've been attached at the hip ever since."

"Looking forward to your speeches on the day then," she muses, "Shall we get started?"

You focus your efforts into concentrating through the meeting and trying to not let the pit growing in your stomach distract you. You were here to help out your best friend and her soon-to-be husband, so you gave your opinion when you felt it necessary and not much more.

You haven't been physically present through the past few months, but Hana had clued you in to everything she was doing as it was happening. You'd been discussing your dream days for years on end, so you felt like you had good opinions for the final touches of the plan.

After two hours going through every single detail, you wrapped up and Hana was beginning to talk about what she was going to cook for dinner.

"We have some salmon in the freezer, I think. That's enough for the three of us," she links arms with you as soon as you stand up, practically dragging you out of the store to avoid any more time alone with your ex-boyfriend.

"I was gonna go home after this, remember? My parents are unfortunately expecting me," you remind her regrettably. It's been a while since you saw your family- maybe a year now?

"Oh. Do you want me to come? I can drive you! I haven't seen your parents in a long time-"

You hear a cough behind you, "I'm heading that way actually. It's my dad's birthday soon so we're gonna have a meal at home. I can take you, but only if you're comfortable with that."

Sungchan's confident and unwavering tone freezes you on the spot, your eye moving to the side to gauge your best friend's reaction. Her eyes transform into sorrow as she presses her lips together. Hana looks at Sungchan, "It's okay, I can take her. I want to."

It makes sense why Sungchan would offer a lift practicality-wise. His family lived on the next road over from your house and you used to walk to school together after he moved to your school at 14.

Shotaro sighs behind Sungchan, "Hana, we still have that Zoom meeting with the venue co-ordinators. It's in like 40 minutes."

Hana curses under her breath, "Well then I'm sure Y/N will be fine taking the subway. Right?"

You're looking down at your feet, unable to even see the expression on Sungchan's face. You don't know his motivation to offer you a ride 45 minutes across the city to your old neighbourhood, and as pure as you know his heart is, you genuinely don't know how you could cope sitting in a confined space with your first love for that amount of time.

In the corner of your eyes, you see him shrug nonchalantly, "Whatever's easiest for you. See you guys soon."

You lift your head up in time to watch him wave goodbye and turn around. His face is seemingly neutral, but you hadn't spent 8 years of your life learning everything there was to possibly know about him to not be able to read the emotions behind his eyes at the very moment.

"Wait, Sungchan," you slip out of your friend's grasp, "I'll come with you."

Hana catches your wrist and hisses under her breath, "Y/N, what? Are you sure about this?"

You try to give her a convincing smile, "I'll text you when I'm coming back, okay? I don't think I'll be too late anyway."

Shotaro waves you off with a puzzled glance and you do a small jog to catch up to the distance he traversed with his long legs.

Sungchan gives you a half smile and shoves his hands into his pocket, "What made you change your mind?"

You nibble on your lower lip, "It's about to be rush hour on the subway. It'll be impossible to get a seat."

Sungchan nods at your response and points out his car across the street. It's a lot nicer and newer than the car he used to take you around Seoul in. You wondered briefly when he got rid of it.

Wordlessly, you enter into the passenger side, buckling your seatbelt and trying to keep your eyes trained in front of you. If you thought too much about the situation you put yourself in, you feared you might jump out of the moving car.

He turned on the radio to a quiet, but comfortable volume. A new song that's dominating the charts is playing as he reverses out of his spot and joins the cars on the roads.

"When did you get back?" Sungchan reluctantly begins.

You were hoping for a silent car ride, but you knew that was just in your dreams, "Yesterday evening."

"How was your flight?"

"Long. It's about 13 hours straight in the air," you hum.

"Is it? Wouldn't know- I've never been to London," it's not obvious, but there's something deeper that you can't figure out in his tone- is it snide? Snark?

"The climate's quite different over there," you reply back shortly, "It was hard to get used to."

"There must have been something you loved there so much that it kept you away for 4 years," he says, "Or something you hate here."

You swallow nervously, "Can we not do this, Sungchan?"

He scoffs, "When will we ever?"

"Is it necessary? I thought we said what we needed to say back then," you huff, letting your eyes flutter close in frustration. You should've known this wasn't going to be an amicable ride- that that disappointment in his eyes when he was walking away wasn't something to latch onto and hope, "I'm only here for 2 weeks. Can we just be civil until their wedding? That's what I'm here for."

"So even after 4 years, you have nothing to say to me?" his voice cracks in the most delicate way and if you looked to the side, you'd see his knuckles turning white as he gripped the wheel tightly.

"What do you want me to say, Sungchan?" you sigh in defeat.

"I don't know, Y/N," he runs his fingers through his hair frustratedly, "Do you regret it? Leaving?"

Your heart constricts in your chest as you shook your head, "I can't."

"What?"

"I can't regret leaving. Otherwise everything I did it for and did there becomes nothing," you confess, "I shouldn't."

Sungchan exhales a puff of air into the car, "This is gonna be so much harder than I thought it would be."

You agree silently and don't say another word for the whole drive.

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

ii. and i can wish all that i want, but it won't bring us together

Shotaro and Hana decided to forgo the traditional bachelor and bachelorette parties. They themselves were far too busy for that, let alone thinking about the time and effort it would take to coordinate 6+ people on each side to do an activity or vacation. Plus, on Hana's side, some of her bridesmaids weren't all too familiar with each other having come from different periods of her life, so she didn't think that cooping all of you up in a vacation home a week before her wedding was worth her energy. She loved you all separately, but that didn't mean you would all have to be best friends.

Thus, the couple decided on a joint dinner hosted in their home just to get everyone acquainted with each other. You'd spent the afternoon with the other girls picking out jewellery you wanted to all wear for the wedding and returned home to find a spread of food prepared by the private chef the couple hired.

Despite the fact that you were dreading to face Sungchan again after the disastrous ride home, you were also excited to see Shotaro's other groomsmen, who were also old friends of yours from both high school and college.

When you entered their home again after your group shopping trip, you were immediately crushed by a tall figure.

"Y/N-noona," you hear Anton sniff as he hugged you, "Do you still remember me?"

You gasp and let out a nervous chuckle, "Don't be silly- hey Chanyoung. Long time no see, right?"

One of the worst parts about your breakup with Sungchan was having to relinquish your relationship with the boys too. It wasn't that they had to choose sides or anything, but you just thought it was easier for everyone involved. Of course, you still texted them occasionally on birthday, holidays and randomly throughout the year, but you hadn't seen any of them other than Shotaro since the breakup.

"Stop hogging her. We all haven't seen her in four years," Seunghan bumps Anton out of the way to envelop you into a comforting hug, "I almost forgot what you looked like, noona. You don't post on SNS."

"Has anyone entertained the idea that she's actually a British spy now?" Eunseok smirks as he takes his turn hugging you, "Welcome back Y/N."

Before Shotaro came into the picture in college, Eunseok and Sungchan were the first package deal. They were the closest in age to one another and were family friends growing up. Eunseok was the reason Sungchan moved to your school when his family relocated to the area. They adopted Shotaro in college and found the other boys along the way.

You've known Eunseok as long as you've known Sungchan and he was one of the ones who took the breakup the hardest out of all of your friends. Hana was your best friend since childhood and Eunseok was Sungchan's- that's when it felt like people had to take sides, no matter how close you also were with Eunseok.

"I missed you guys," you whisper lowly into Eunseok's embrace.

"You should have invited us to London," Sohee sniffles when he takes his turn hugging you. Wonbin joins the two of you in a group hug.

"Well then I'm inviting you now. I'd like to take you to Buckingham Palace so you can see your twins," you joke at Sohee, ruffling his hair, "Bin, how are you?"

"I'm great, noona. Honestly," he smiles softly at you. You've never had the deepest nor most complex relationship with Wonbin, but you take comfort knowing you're both satisfied at the low-maintenance friendship you've formed.

You realise quickly that a member of the wedding party is missing when you spot Shotaro mingling with the bridesmaids. Eunseok seems to read your mind immediately, "Sungchan's in the kitchen."

"Did he tell you?"

"About the car ride?" Eunseok grimaces and you mirror his expression, "Everyone knew this was gonna be hard. Neither of you should force anything or expect anything from yourselves."

You sigh, "I know. Doing that just makes everything worse. Besides, this week is about Taro and Hana. I don't want to draw attention from them or cause any problems that might affect them too."

Eunseok nods understandingly, "I guess so. But just think about yourself okay? That's who should be the most important person to yourself always."

You spot Hana trying to beckon you over, so you excuse yourself from Eunseok and wander over to your best friend, who slides her arm around your waist.

Four out of the 5 other bridesmaids are all her friends from the law firm she began working at since graduation 4 years ago. The other one is her cousin who lives in the opposite end of the country, but who she visited every summer and holidays. You're all around the same age, but you haven't had the chance to meet them or even speak to them outside of the bridesmaid group-chat Hana put you all in 6 months ago until today.

"How's it seeing the boys again?" Shotaro hands you a flute of what you think is a mimosa.

"I missed them," you admit simply with a small smile.

"You went to college with all of them, right?" Taehee questions curiously, "You really haven't seen any of them since you moved to London?"

"Taro and Hana have visited me a few times in London, but that's it," you press your lips together, "It was just a lot of things that stopped me from coming back."

You haven't said anything to the other girls about your ex-boyfriend, mainly because this week was not about you and your finicky relationship, so they're all none-the-wiser to your situation.

"Shall we go over to the dining room?" Hana suggests, sniffing the air when the chef throws open the dining room door and the smell of the food floods out, "I'm so hungry!"

Their usual dining room table has been replaced with a temporary set up for the 13 of you in a large, round table. You stick by Hana's side and immediately take the seat next to her, sighing in relief when Eunseok takes the other seat beside you. You try not to look up, but you practically feel Sungchan's presence in the room when he enters and takes a seat on the other side of the table, flanked by Seunghan and Anton.

When the starter is brought out, you're engaged in a conversation with Eunseok and the bridesmaid beside him about the places you've travelled in Europe. Mina's well-travelled herself and Eunseok is far too fascinated hearing what you've been getting up to since you left.

"Did you visit Paris? You must have," Mina wonders, "It's so close to London- I'd be going every weekend!"

Your heart drops and you swallow, "No, not since I left Korea."

"You've visited before?"

You hold yourself back from looking up, "In the past, just once."

"Isn't it lovely? It's one of my favourite cities in the world," Mina gushes excitedly, "I love art and museums, so Paris is my element!"

You recall back to the summer before your senior year of college and the week you spent running around Paris in the evening, dancing along the Seine and holding your first love under the moonlight. Every time you were invited to Paris since then, something would stop you going- it would only remind you of the most beautiful week you had spent with Sungchan as your anniversary trip.

By the time the entrées arrive, the conversation has moved onto updates from Eunseok- how much his little brother has grown since you last saw him, how his family got an adorable new dog and how his parents are getting older. Your families were friends too, just like Hana's family and Sungchan's family. It's a shame you missed out on so much, but you know it's your fault anyway.

You make it through dinner by ignoring that steady thrum in your veins and the pumping of your heart just being in the same room as the one who haunts your memories, but it becomes harder when the couple moves you into the living room to mingle and chat with flutes of mixed alcohol.

"We actually have a task to do for tonight," Hana smirks slyly as you all turn towards her, "We haven't actually figured out who you're gonna walk down the aisle with."

"We thought it'd be better to choose after seeing who looks good together," Shotaro shrugs, "Height differences and that."

Hana claps her hands definitely, "Okay, everyone just go stand with a partner and then me and Taro will shuffle as we see fit."

You freeze, having not been informed of this by your best friend beforehand. With a glimpse of hope, you tug at Eunseok's sleeve and he looks at you with a confused glance.

Jiwoo frowns at you across the room, "Wait- I get it for the rest of us but the maid of honour and best man are walking down together, right?"

Your face probably mirrors Sungchan's - like a deer caught in headlights as you both begin to chuckle awkwardly.

Hana's eyes widen as she looks at you apologetically, "I suppose so. Though it doesn't have to be."

"It makes most sense that way," Taehee agrees beside Anton.

"Um, then Sungchan and Y/N, you guys can just sit down or help us match," Shotaro quickly splutters out.

Nodding in agreement, you float over to Hana's side again, like two opposite poles on a magnet. She smiles at you sheepishly and you subtly dismiss her. It's her wedding- you just had to suck it up. Sungchan takes a seat away from where you were standing, trying to busy himself on his phone.

In the end, it took an excessive amount of time to decide on the final pairings, made all the more difficult by the absence of the girls' heels that played a part in the decision-making. You had no idea that something so trivial could take up so much of an evening and cause such hilarious tiffs fuelled by wine. 

Hana gasps from the corner, "Wait, where's the camera? I want pictures of everyone for the scrapbook."

Shotaro retrieves a baby blue polaroid camera displayed on their book shelf and loads a new cartridge of film inside. Your heart is beating fast as Hana shoo's each couple against a deemed-aesthetic backdrop and snaps a single, quick photo of the two that prints out in just seconds.

Surely she wouldn't do that to you, right?

But when her head turns towards you and a soft, pleading smile graces her features, you're resigned to standing up and following the orders she's sending telepathically.

"Sungchan, c'mere. I need one of you and Y/N," Hana calls out gently.

Wordlessly, he rises from the spot he's been planted on for the better part of an hour and positions himself beside you, with a good distance separating your shoulders.

Hana raises the camera to her eye, but she clicks her tongue in frustration, "I can't get you both in."

"Just step backwards," Sungchan advises, his tone light, but with an edge.

"I want all the pictures at the same angle," she counters, "Just move a little closer together."

"Y/N won't bite, right?" Mina laughs jokingly, to which you try your best to give a convincing chuckle.

He shuffles a little closer to you, the fabric of your shirts brushing against each other delicately. You're focused on keeping the smile on your face as neutral and natural as possible, silently pleading your best friend with your eyes to hurry up.

She finally counts down and clicks the button, the flash blinding you for a split second. Before you could even fully regain your vision, Sungchan has already traversed the room to join Seunghan and Wonbin nosy through the bookshelf.

Ouch. He really wants nothing to do with you.

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

iii. you left me no choice but to stay here forever

Exactly one week before the wedding, Hana bursts into your room with a panicked look.

"What's wrong?" you gasp at her state, scrambling up from the edge of the bed where you were scrolling lazily on your phone.

"Taro forgot to pick up the wedding rings," Hana pants out, clear frustration in her eyes, "The jeweller's going out of town tomorrow."

"Oh!" your own eyes widen, "Do you need me to go pick them up then?"

"Yeah, please! If you can," she smooths out the white dress she was wearing, "I'd do it but it's the opposite direction to where we need to go and we're already running hella late."

You stand up and steady her by her shoulders, "Don't worry about it. That's what I'm here for, yeah? To make your life easier."

Hana relaxes with a sigh of relief and pulls you into a hug, "What would I do without you?"

The couple were off to another one of their endless wedding appointments, which was seemingly going to take up their whole day. It was still just the morning, but Shotaro was running down the stairs already, calling for Hana to get in the car.

"I'll text you the address, okay? I'll also text the jeweller that you'll be coming," she smiles gratefully before disappearing out of the front door.

Instead of buying traditional wedding rings at a famous store, they decided to have their own personal set made that was completely tailor-made and customised for them at a small, local business. You thought it was sweet how they wanted to design the ring that would symbolise their union and love together instead of any old, generic piece of metal.

Taking the subway over to the store wasn't a bad experience- it was a hot walk over to the station, but the carriages were air conditioned and not terribly busy. It's a stark contrast to the hot, cramped and dirty tube of your current home city.

The jeweller's shop is in a part of the city near your old university; you used to frequent the area a lot, so you were experiencing major nostalgia walking the streets again after a long time. You even contemplated visiting your favourite stores and coffee shop after picking up the rings, hoping that taking a trip down memory lane won't hurt you too much.

When you reach the shop, it's empty save a couple sat across an attendant looking at rings together at a table in the corner. At the check-out desk, an older gentleman is polishing a set of gold rings.

"Hi, my name is Y/N! I'm here to pick up the wedding rings for Hana and Shotaro," you inform the man.

His eyes crinkle with a smile, "Ah, you came first. Wait here while I get them. Feel free to take a look around as well."

You frown at his words but dismiss them as you spot the case filled with rings of all styles and metals. There's some engagement rings with dazzling precious stones and intricate bands, but there's also a bunch of unique sets of rings that you assume are ready to sell.

When you were younger, you used to think that you wanted the largest diamond with the most elaborate designs and stones to show off. As you grew older, you realised that you just wanted a ring that would signify the love your other half had for you, no matter the size or price.

Your finger traces along the display case, humming lightly as you evaluate them all and try to guess what Hana and Shotaro's rings would look like. Would they be silver or gold? Would they have diamonds? Would they be engraved?

"Y/N?" the deep voice startles you from behind and you jump on the spot.

You turn, meeting face-to-face with Sungchan. Your heart skips a beat.

"Sungchan, what are you doing here?"

His eyebrows are tugged together in confusion, "Shotaro asked me to pick up the wedding rings."

Your mouth dries, "Ah. Hana asked me to do the same."

"Really? They didn't talk about it?" Sungchan frowns.

"They were in a rush, to be fair," you say awkwardly.

"Oh, okay. Well if you're here, then I guess I'll go," he nods, turning his body towards the door, "See ya."

"Oh, you must be the best man!" the jeweller laughs a full-bellied laugh as he emerges from the back, "Must have been some miscommunication with the bridge and groom as I got two separate messages telling me they each sent someone here."

"Yeah, that's me," Sungchan chuckles, "If I'm not needed then I'll head off."

"Have a look at the rings," the jeweller beckons the two of you over instead to a free desk with chairs on either side, "We'll be shutting the store down tomorrow for a couple of weeks, so inspect and make sure it's all okay. I have some information to pass along to the couple too."

Reluctantly, Sungchan approaches the table with you and takes the plush seat beside you. In another universe, you look just like the other couple in store, grinning at each other with lovestruck smiles as you tried on different rings. You push the thought away and swallow the mass in your throat down.

The jeweller takes out two red leather boxes from inside a small carrier bag that has a sticker with their names on it. He sets out the boxes in front of you and moves the bag aside.

"The couple requested the rings to be engraved so there's no risk of you taking away the wrong rings anyway," he clarifies as he picks up one of the boxes, "This one's for the bride."

When he opens it up, you're floored in awe at the beauty of the ring. It's a band of beautiful diamonds sparkling under the light of the store. He tilts the ring and brings it up closer to your eyes until you can see the small letters on the inside- S&H.

"It's beautiful," you whisper.

He twists the ring around in his grip, "No diamonds missing, no cracks or gaps or breaks, yes?"

When you nod in confirmation, he shows it to Sungchan who wordlessly inspects the precious stones. The jeweller places it back in the box and does the same with Shotaro's ring, which has less diamonds but is still shiny.

He puts the boxes back in the bag and shows you the booklets he had places inside, "There's ring care instructions, the certificates for the warranty and what to do if there's anything wrong with the ring."

You nod as you take in the information.

His eyes soften, "Please send my regards to the lovely couple. I am heartbroken to not be able to send them off with their rings. I hope they love it."

"I'm sure they will," you hum as you take the small bag from him, "Thank you."

He spots the absence of metal on your fingers as you reach over, "Ah, no wedding or engagement ring on you, hm? Come and visit my store in the future if you happen to need one."

The back of your neck heats up, "No ring on me. I'll keep you in mind."

"What about you, best man? A lucky lady in your life?" he turns to your companion and drops him a wink, "Gotta get as much business as possible."

Sungchan flashes his bare fingers, "I'll come to you if the time ever comes."

Four years ago, you imagined that you would be way past this stage. It twists your heart to know your best friend gets to do all of it first. You're inexplicably happy for her that she's found the love of her life that she wants to spend forever with, but you always wished you could be doing these steps together. You both always wanted to get engaged at similar times, to get married in consecutive years, to have kids all at the same time, but you've fallen behind already.

"Y/N?" the jeweller calls out softly, breaking your trance, "Everything alright?"

You offer a small smile, "Yeah, sorry. Thank you for your time and the rings."

He waves you off with a genuine smile and you leave the store with Sungchan following behind you.

You take one brief look at him and his unsettled expression and murmur, "See you again soon."

"Wait, how'd you get here? By train?" you nod at him and he sighs, running a hand through his hair, "Come. I'll drop you off back at their place."

"That's not necessary. I can handle myself-"

Sungchan gives you a pointed look, clearly unimpressed, "You're carrying around rings worth thousands. Can't risk you losing them or getting robbed."

You look down at the bag, embossed with the logo of the jeweller's, "Uhm, you can just take it if you want and give it to them when you next see them."

"I'm sure they'd wanna see their rings as soon as possible when they get home," Sungchan argues, "Just get in the car with me, Y/N. We don't even have to speak."

Your mouth flattens into a grimace as he begins stomping towards his car parked along the road. Wordlessly, you climb into the passenger seat and secure the bag on your lap. He starts the car and turns on the radio loud enough where you couldn't hold a conversation over it.

You make it 15 minutes into the journey by watching the city go by through the window in front of you. You recognise most places, but it still is not completely all familiar.

It's hard to relax when you're in the car again with the person whose heart you broke. Your fingers grip into the bag and you try to control your breathing so your heart wouldn't run as fast.

"You're getting a call," Sungchan murmurs as he turns the radio down.

You're about to tell him that it's okay and you'll take it later, but when you take out the phone, you see it's your mother. She's a busy woman who doesn't always get the time to speak with you, so you always try to answer her calls.

You mumble a sorry to Sungchan and raise the phone to your ears, "Mhm, mother?"

"Hi my darling, I was just calling to check up on you. What are you up to?"

"I just picked up the wedding rings because Hana and Taro are busy and the store's closing for a bit," you tell her, "I'm on my way back to their house."

She gasps in delight, "How exciting! You're taking a taxi back? It sounds like you're in a car."

You debate internally whether you should tell her, "Sungchan is driving me back to their house. We were both accidentally sent over to the jeweller's."

"Sungchan?" her voice is reluctant and shaky as she utters his name.

"He's the best man," you can tell he's listening by the way his grip tightens on the steering wheel and his knuckles are turning white.

"Of course, you said," your mother remembers what you told her at dinner a few nights ago, "I'll leave you to it. Say hello to Sungchan for me- I haven't seen him and his family in a while. Will they be at the wedding?"

"I suppose," you murmur, "Love you, bye."

Your mother parrots the sentiment before the line clicks.

"My mother says hello," you tell him quietly.

Sungchan forces a small smile, "Thanks. It's been a long time."

Your heart aches at the thought of just how much your family loved and adored your first boyfriend. You started dating and hanging out when you were still teens in your childhood homes, so he and his family got friendly with yours and eventually became close. You've taken endless group trips together and merged your family so well, thinking that you were going to be forever.

The rest of the drive is done in near silence. Sungchan doesn't turn the radio up again, but he also doesn't utter a single word. You felt like you could hear your heartbeat in the quiet.

When he pulls up to the drive, he barely gives you a look as he gets out the car, "I just need to get my jacket I left the other night."

You swallow and nod, following him to the front door where you enter the passcode to get into the house.  You don't really know what to do with yourself after you placed the bag on their coffee table.

Is it rude if you go to your room? Should you offer him a drink? Do you just wait by the door until he leaves?

Sungchan finds his jacket in a closet along the stairwell and he drapes it across his arm. You're waiting awkwardly in the middle of the front room when he stops in front of you with an unreadable, frustrated expression. He squints his eyes slightly at you before letting out a soft sigh.

"What?" the word drops from your mouth quietly.

He shakes his head, "It hurts to look at you."

The words feel like poison injected straight into your veins. Your mouth goes dry and hangs open, "Do you hate me?"

Of course he does. Of course he hates you.

You left him.

"I thought I did. I carried so much resentment over the past 4 years but looking at you again like this," Sungchan pauses and meets your eyes, "It just... hurts."

"I'm sorry," your head hangs low, "I'll be gone soon. You don't have to worry. You don't have to see me at all after all this."

Sungchan lets out a sarcastic, dry chuckle, "I wish that could be the case. What about when they have their first child? What about when the others start getting married too?"

You open your mouth to try and say something, but he continues, "I thought I was finally moving on or at least forgetting. It was a hard 3 years. Then, Shotaro tells me he's proposing and Hana says you're going to be the maid of honour and that in 7 months you'll be back in Seoul. I spent 7 months thinking about what to say to you when I see you again. 7 months wondering what it was going to be like between us. And then you come back and you can't even look me in the eyes. And I don't know what to say to you. And you're saying that I never have to see you again after. What do I even do with myself, Y/N?"

"I'm sorry," it's all you can say as you choke up and tears start forming on your lashes. You feel so pathetic, knowing there was nothing in the world you could say to make this easier.

"Even if you are, that doesn't fix anything," his voice cracks, "Do you actually not regret leaving? Leaving me?"

He brings you back to the other day in his car and you swallow nervously, "Of course I do, but I felt like it was the only choice I had back then. It was getting harder and harder to be with each other. We were fighting all the time for no reason and I had no idea how to fix us. And then I got that job offer I couldn't turn down and you got a good job here in Seoul."

Sungchan's hands ball into fists, "Every couple goes through hard times. I would have gone to the ends of the universe to fight for us. You were everything to me. Was I not to you?"

You snap, "You don't know how hard it was to leave."

"And you don't know how much worse it is to be the one left behind," his voice raises slightly in frustration as you realise that he's crying too, crystal tears falling from his pretty eyes, "What went wrong with us, Y/N? I still don't understand."

"I had no idea who I was without you. We spent every waking moment tethered to each other. Don't you think we needed to grow?" you whisper, "We were fighting so much I thought you would begin to resent me and that it meant we had outgrown each other."

"I wish we could have talked more about it before you left. You gave me no choice, Y/N. You just moved across the world and left me behind," the pain in his voice is evident, "I know I wasn't being a good boyfriend at the end. It was stressful starting that job and becoming an adult in the real world after college, but if you'd given me the chance-"

"There's no point talking about the what-if's," you interrupt him, "It'll only hurt us more."

"Do you still love me?" he questions suddenly.

Your face pales as you look up at him. His tears are flowing so fast, but so delicately- you wish you could reach up and dry his tears with your fingers, not too dissimilar from the way he used to kiss the tears off your cheeks in the past whenever you would have squabbles.

"What?"

He gulps, "I've spent 12 years loving you since the moment I met you. I'm so scared that I'm going to love you for the rest of my life."

"Sungchan-"

"I can't let you leave again without telling you. You have to know it's only ever going to be you."

Sungchan sniffles as he takes a step closer to you. His jacket that was on his arm is discarded on the floor.

"I'm so sorry," you whimper again as your eyes flutter shut. You bite your lip to try and control the tears.

Before you realise what was happening, you feel the soft pad of his thumb tug your lip out and then the pressure of his own mouth against yours as he captured your hot tears in his kiss. And like it was a reflex, you melt into his body and part your lips, giving him access and trying to forget that this was a terrible, terrible thing to do.

His large hands come up to cradle your face and he walks you backwards until your back hits the wall. You're both sobbing into the kiss, but you can't pull away even if you wanted to.

You haven't kissed anyone in 4 years and Sungchan's lips on yours feels like you finally came home to him. It's desperate, sloppy and you're both choking on your own tears as you move your mouth against his. Your heart and your brain have disconnected from each other and your hands are gripping the fabric of the jacket he was currently wearing like your life depends on it.

Time freezes in this moment with him and you don't know how long you're kissing for until you've both stopped crying and your mouth goes numb.

He presses his forehead against yours, "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too."

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

iv. but you come back with gravity

You don't say anything to Hana when she knocks on your door later on in the evening once they returned. She texts you after, asking if you were awake and if you wanted dinner. You wait 30 minutes before replying that you were in and out of sleep, exhausted from all the exploring you told her that you did after collecting the rings. You're thankful she leaves you alone after that but not before apologising over the mix up with Sungchan and that she hoped he didn't bring you any trouble.

You toss and turn in the bed all night.

When the next day comes, you force yourself out at the crack of dawn, commandeering over the kitchen to cook your friends some breakfast. It was the least you could do for them as they hosted you. You knew Hana would be awake soon since she was still working remotely for a few days. Shotaro, on the other hand, could afford to take some leave by busying himself more than usual in the months prior to the wedding to make up for it.

When Hana comes down yawning, you greet her tiredly, "Hey."

"Awww, my Y/N cooked for me?" she pouted sweetly at you, "You're too sweet. I could get used to this; why don't you come back and live in our spare room forever?"

Your stomach flips on itself, "Do you think I should?"

Hana was about to bring a mouthful of egg into her mouth when she stills, "I mean I was joking but I don't think you are. You want to move back?"

The image of Sungchan from yesterday with tears in his eyes is burned into your brain and you can see him every time you blink, "No... it's just that-"

"Whatever it is, I would say move back. I'm the first- no the second person who wants you back here," she quips.

"Who's the first?"

She glares at you like you're stupid before tossing a piece of kimchi on top of your rice, "Did something happen yesterday? With Sungchan? Did he say something to you?"

You're in half a mind to blurt out the truth, but you stop yourself. You're here for your best friend and to make her life easier before her wedding, not to add problems. Maybe when she's back from her honeymoon and you're alone again in your flat in London you could tell her over FaceTime, but you hold your breath for now.

"No," you shake your head, "You getting married just has me thinking about my future. Like where I'm gonna end up and settle."

She shoots you a sympathetic look, "When did life suddenly whizz by? One second we're giggling by our lockers writing confession notes and the next we're thinking about where to root our lives. Anyway, I want you here, but more importantly, I want you where you're happy. I can tell it's been hard for you to come back here."

"I'm just kind of lost in life. I thought I could build a life in London and stay there forever. I have- kind of, but there's nothing that's actually keeping me there. If I packed up and moved away, no one is missing me," you sigh.

Hana claps like she suddenly had a bright idea, "You know what you should do while you're here? Open a dating app! Maybe you'll find your reason to stay."

You look at her like she's grown 10 heads, cause WTAF?

"I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that," you deadpan.

Hana rolls her eyes, "Seriously? Why not? Are you still in love with him or something? I thought that seeing him again would give you closure and you can finally move on."

You stay silent and she groans, putting her head in her hands, "Jesus, it's done the opposite, hasn't it? Made you feel things again?"

"This is not about me. Or Sungchan. Stop, stop," you frantically dismiss her, "No talking about my tragic love life. You're literally getting married!"

Hana sighs at you, "I am, but doesn't mean I can't care and worry about you. I have enough of myself to share with those I love, honestly. Getting married to Taro is gonna be one of the greatest things ever, but you know, I love him every single day regardless and not much has to change. It's a big deal to us but life still goes on for everyone else."

"I'm so happy you guys have each other," you tell her, voice dropping to a whisper.

"It's all thanks to you and him," she reminds you, "And if you realised that you still love him, I won't judge. I just don't want either of you to get hurt again."

You nod slowly, trying to internalise her words, "I'll be okay, right?"

She reaches across the table and squeezes your hand, "You're gonna be fine, my love. Whatever happens."

You finish up breakfast talking about what you were gonna do during the day instead. It was 6 days until the wedding and you were scheduled to pick up your dress from the tailors after they finished the adjustments. Hana was going to do some work first and then you both would go out and get the dress together, then have some brunch with some of your old friends from college. A lot of them stayed in town, but you both had lost touch with some of them after your move and Hana's fancy job she got straight out of school.

Spending the rest of the morning trying to relax proved to be futile. Every time you were left alone with your thoughts, all you could think about was Sungchan's lips on yours, the pressure of his body caging you in- and then the emptiness you felt when he ran away as soon as.

How could he tell you that he still loved you and proceed to flee after kissing you? Your brain and heart are in complete tatters.

You're still thinking about him by the time Hana knocks and tells you she finished up her work and you think about him the whole drive over to the bridal shop.

You think about him when you try on the dress again. You think about whether he'd think you're pretty in the dress. You think about the wedding dress you'd have picked if life went to plan.

On the whole walk to the brunch restaurant, Hana gave up on trying to capture your attention. She just links your arms together and hums into the air.

Minjeong and Jimin are already sat at the table when you arrive and they spring up in delight at the sight of you and crush you between them.

"Holy crap, you've been away as long as we knew you," Minjeong whines as you all sit down. Like the boys, you messaged her on special occasions and haven't substantially talked since, but you'll always hold a lot of love for the few friends you made in college.

Minjeong and Jimin lived in the apartment next to yours for your entire college journey. They too were best friends from childhood and you and Hana mirrored them in so many ways.

"How are you? How's London?" Jimin asks curiously.

"It's weird to be back, for sure," you smile slightly, "But I'm happy to see you guys again. London's London- busy, gloomy, grey."

"Did you make friends okay over there? Find a new man?" Minjeong raises her eyebrows. Jimin elbows her in the side and gives you a sheepish look.

It wasn't like you made a public statement that you and Sungchan broke up, but people must have noticed something was up when you started posting in the UK and disappeared off each other's social media accounts.

"Still just me," you chuckle, "Anyway, what are you guys wearing to the wedding?"

Jimin claps her hands excitedly and rushes to her phone to show you the photos of their dresses. They're coming in complimentary pastel yellow dresses with frills and all.

"You guys are gonna look so good! Like cute little twins as always," Hana squeals in approval, "No dates for either of you?"

Winter grimaces, "We've not been as lucky as you in that department. I don't know if we scare each other's potential suitors off."

"Taro was terrified of Y/N for a while, remember?," Hana reminisces fondly, "He was my first proper boyfriend, so Y/N really lay on the act thick to make sure he would treat me well."

"And my screening process worked, didn't it? You're the one getting married in 6 days," you quip at her.

"Yes, I have you to thank of course," she nuzzles into your side, "Why does it now seem like I'm not going to be attending any of your weddings anytime soon? I want to attend one that's not my own!"

Jimin snorts, "I can get eloped for you, if you want. What age did you guys want to get married?"

Winter sighs, "I wanted to get married out of college," and then gives the stink eye to her best friend who mutters under her breath that she should have tried harder then.

"Around this age would have been nice, I think," you say sadly, playing with the rings on your fingers and trying to imagine how they would look beside a wedding or engagement ring.

"I told her to go on a dating app earlier, but she said no," Hana informs them.

"That's modern dating now, unfortunately. We can't all have high school or college sweethearts," Jimin purses her lips in thought, "Or how about you just get back together with your ex?"

It's Winter's turn to smack her friend's arm in shock, "Yah, that's so out of pocket, Jimin! Sorry Y/N."

You attempt to keep your face neutral as Jimin giggles innocently, "Sorry Y/N. It's just that I heard that he's been single this whole time. You've seen him recently, right?"

"He's Taro's best man," Hana nods, "We've had a few wedding events and dinners since Y/N got here."

"It's not really up to me, I think. I'm the one that up and left."

Winter reaches across the table to grab your hand and comfort you, "You must've had your reasons, Y/N-ie. Sorry, I know you probably don't want to talk about it."

"It's fine- it's just complicated," you smile softly in reassurance.

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

v. i could go on and on and on, and i will go on and on and on until it all comes back

4 days out from the wedding and you find yourself alone in Seoul again. Hana and Shotaro decided they needed a spa day to relax just before it got incredibly intense over the weekend and asked if you wanted to join. Of course, you weren't going to sandwich yourself in the nearly newlywed's plans.

You remember the café near the jeweller's you wanted to visit, eager to see how time has changed the shop just as it had changed you. Taking the subway was tiring, of course, but you occupy your time by people-watching through every stop. It's a weekday, so the carriage isn't so busy during the middle of the day. You're lucky enough to find a row of seats and be able to rest your feet.

The walk to the café from the station isn't long, but you walk slow and take in your surroundings on the sunny day. It's hard when your memories are so entwined with the one you didn't have anymore.

Every corner you turn, you can still picture you and Sungchan there walking, holding hands and bright-eyed. He'll probably have said something ridiculous that made you laugh and you'll have playfully hit him on his arm and cuddled into his side as he dropped a kiss on the top of your head.

Being in Seoul brings back all the nostalgia of your youth.

You order a refreshing iced drink, slightly sad that you don't recognise the cashier behind the till. Your feet carry you to an empty table before you can realise it's the one you liked to sit at before- by a window, far away enough from both the front door and the toilet, and with a view of the main street in front to watch the world go by. You know there's a charging port at your feet and that it takes 12 steps to get to the stand with the tissues, sugars and stirrers. You know that you've spent many hours hunched over on the seat, trying to complete each essay and assignment. You know what you like off the menu and what you don't. You know that it's where you had your first date with Sungchan in the city when your parents let you out at 16 together.

It hurts to remember the very first time you were here, giggling, flustered and nervous for your very first date with a boy- the same boy you'd been infatuated with since the first time you laid eyes on him 2 years prior. Sungchan had carried your bag on his shoulder the whole train ride over and tried his best to look all tall and tough to protect you in the big city despite it being one of his first times going to the city without an adult. He had opened all the doors for you, pulled out all the chairs and paid for all your drinks and food as he listened to you ramble about cute cakes and pastries.

You had talked about your high school exams, what you wanted to do in college and how you imagined your futures. He had told you all about his sweet family, his love for football and things you never got to know about him in a group situation.

On the way home, with the sun about to set, he held your hand the whole way.

You stop reminiscing when a figure takes a seat in front of you, and then you're thrown straight back in.

"What are you doing here?" you ask Sungchan tentatively, unsure what to make of his presence.

"Hana told me you might come here today. I was going to come to the house to see you," Sungchan says simply, playing with his fingers, "I didn't really have any way to reach you."

Of course- your Korean number was long deactivated, you had unfollowed each other on social media and your temporary number was shared only with those you deemed it necessary.

You look up at him through your eyelashes, expression slightly menacing from the way it brought a pang to your heart to look at him. You knew exactly how he felt when he said it hurt to look at you.

"You left, Sungchan. You told me you missed me and then you left," you murmured quietly, suddenly hyper-aware of your surroundings.

He sighs longingly, "I know. I'm sorry for that. But my head's a mess, I'm confused and I don't know where we stand."

"You're the one that kissed me," you continue accusing him.

"You kissed me back and I didn't expect it. You told me you missed me," he bores his eyes into yours, "But you're going to leave again in a few days and I don't know if my heart can handle it again to watch you walk away."

"What's our options here?" you grip the cup in your hands tightly, "We just forget everything happened, just get through the wedding and then never look back?"

"Is that what you want?" there's a tinge of hurt in his voice.

"What I want and what I can have are two different things."

He pauses and then swallows, "What do you want?"

"You said it- it's only ever going to be you," you confess.

There's no point lying to him; you know each other better than you know yourselves- or at least you did. He knows your soul like it's his own, learned you inside and out over the years you grew up beside each other. You might've changed a bit away from each other, but you were each other's anchor in your formative years. Of course he knows you.

You watch his eyes transform with hope and then hesitancy, "What's stopping us from being together then?"

"We haven't spoken in 4 years and the most we've done here is argue," you remind him, "And I could love you with all my heart and every inch of my being, but that doesn't mean we'll work again."

Sungchan looks at you with those big, brown eyes that transports you 10 years back, in the very same seat, as he asked you to be his girlfriend, "Can we just try?"

10 years ago, you had blushed and hid your face in your hands. He had laughed sweetly, melodiously, prying your fingers away from your visage. You had giggled out a small 'yes' and he had entangled your fingers together in glee.

But now you're 10 years older, cheeks less puffy and the passage of time eroding at the innocent naïvety you both held. But love has no timeline, hope even less.

You're the one to reach over to his restless fingers and entwine them in yours, "Yes."

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

You have more questions than you have answers. You have more anxiety than you have reassurance. Your head spins the minute you attempt to solve all the newfound puzzles and dilemmas in your head, but you try to bury them back deep into your brain so you could focus on your task at hand and what you came here for.

Like most brides before their wedding, Hana was starting to get a bit nervous. She had absolutely no doubt about marrying Shotaro of course, but it was a lot of stress to deal with all the moving parts and logistics of actually holding the wedding. Every evening, you've been sitting with the couple, going through their to-do-lists and wedding plans to make sure you didn't miss a single detail.

To be honest, there's nothing left to do until the rehearsal dinner you were hosting tomorrow, which was the day before the wedding. Overthinking details unnecessarily would just add stress to the couple, so you've been trying to reassure them everything was going to be perfect.

"It's actually so close," Hana exhales slowly, as she closes her eyes and tries to relax.

You're sat outside in the lawn chairs of their garden, basking in the late afternoon summer sun, "My best friend is going to be a married woman in 2 days."

"And then you're going to leave again," you can hear the pout in her voice, "When's the next time we can take time off work so we can properly hang out without the wedding planning being the center of attention? HR probably won't let me for another 6 months, but I'm itching to come visit you in London already."

"Don't act like your wedding isn't the most exciting thing that's ever happened to either of us," you scoff at her.

"It is, but it's literally consumed our entire life," Hana puffs out, "I'm excited to see it come together, though. Make sure you try and have fun at the wedding too, okay? I know I asked you for a lot of favours as my maid of honour, but I still want you to have a good time. Maybe meet one of Taro's cousins or studio friends."

You flush red at the sudden thought in your head, "Don't say anything, okay, but Sungchan and I are gonna, um, come to your wedding together-" Hana slaps her hand over her mouth and you sit up, "I said don't say anything!"

Over the past 2 days, you'd been texting and chatting on the phone a lot in the times you could. He was still working during the day as a hot-shot physiotherapist for one of the elite football teams in the city, so he didn't have time to see you when you were available. You'd agreed to be each other's dates to your best friends' wedding, even though the time you would spent with each other was probably going to be very limited with your duties. It's the thought that counts.

Hana's peering at you with the widest, most shocked eyes, "What did I miss? What the hell?"

"It's nothing," it's everything, "We just got to talking a bit, decided to see if it might go anywhere and stick this time. We're taking it like really slow."

Hana rolls her eyes, "How slow do you have to go? You're already each other's greatest love- oh don't give me that look!" she reaches out to poke your exasperated expression, "I get it. You don't want to get hurt and you don't want to hurt each other. Just don't stand in the way of your own happiness."

"I'm sorry to make it about me," you sigh, "We're not going to be obvious at your wedding or anything."

She reaches over to take your hand, "Babe, I told you, your happiness is my happiness and I mean it. You know I've always rooted for the two of you."

Hana was the very first supporter of your relationship. While she came to know her soon-to-be husband through you and Sungchan, you only ended up together in the first place by Hana getting fed up of you dancing around each other and basically telling Sungchan to ask you out on a date. She'd spent 2 years listening to you go on and on about the cute guy that moved into the neighbourhood and watched as he fell for you with every waking day. You were both too shy to make a move, until she cornered him and convinced him that you would definitely say yes to a date (even the blind could sense that you'd say yes in a heartbeat).

"I love you. I'm so lucky to have you as my best friend," you sniffle, squeezing her hand.

"Save the confession for your Prince Charming. I think he just got here," Hana nods behind you, in the direction of the house.

"What? You didn't tell me he was coming over? He didn't say!" you scramble up to your feet, afraid to turn around knowing you'd find him leaning against the door frame of the garden door.

"Hey!" you hear his familiar sweet voice.

"Sungchan-ie, come here," Hana beckons him over and motions for you to sit down again, "Come join us. What are you doing here?"

"Taro asked me to hang out," he shrugs and takes the chair besides yours, flashing you a sweet smile as he did so, "Sorry for breaking in, but I thought you two would be out having girl-time and getting pampered."

"Our appointments were pretty efficient," Hana shrugs. You had spent the morning doing your final beauty treatments and touch ups - nails, brows, last-minute hair tweaks, lashes, facials and all. You managed to get through them all quickly and ended up having enough time to lay out in the garden with a cocktail on the side-tables, "Taro should be home soon, though. He's probably caught in some traffic back from the airport as he picked up his family."

"Do you want a drink?" you ask him, motioning to the pair of glasses.

"D'you make that?" he quirks in amusement.

You nod, "I befriended the bartender at the pub I live near. She taught me how to make some good cocktails."

"You're full of surprises," he chuckles at you, "Up for passing on that knowledge?"

You look back at Hana, who simply turns her face away with a smirk as she closed her eyes to appreciate the sun. You get up with Sungchan and motion for him to follow you into the kitchen.

"You told her? That girl cannot keep a neutral expression to save her life," Sungchan utters behind you, his tone amused.

"I said we were going to the wedding together, if that's okay," you prepare the ingredients in front of you.

"Mhm, more than okay. I'm sure she was happy to hear that," he muses, "Did she tell you how thick she laid it on in the weeks before you got here? Every time I saw her, she would remind me that I shouldn't miss my chance when you got here."

You gasp at your scheming best friend, "No way! She's the one that's been telling me to get on a dating app! And wanted to set me up with Taro's colleagues!"

Sungchan pouts in faux betrayal, clutching at his heart like he got shot, "Back-stabber! I thought she was on my side!"

You laugh at his antics, "Nah, I think she was playing the long-game with us. Anyway, watch and learn, yeah?"

Sungchan watches in fascination as you show him how to make a salt and chilli rim and how to mix a cocktail together. He's delighted at the way you shake the drink in the shaker the same way bartenders do it and begs you to let him try. You watch him carefully to make sure that the liquid wouldn't explode everywhere throughout your best friend's house and he's smiling in triumph as he strains out the drink into the cup.

You'd forgotten just how adorable he is when he's not trying to ignore you in the room.

"You're an expert too," you clap happily, "Like it?"

"Best cocktail I've ever had! Thank you!" he proclaims, and then sticks himself by your side, slinging a casual arm around your shoulder to pull you close, "I didn't get to say hi properly. Tell me about your day."

"We just went appointment to appointment," you show him your nails that he coos at, "Went café hopping a bit and then came home to chill since it was so sunny."

"Mhm, it'd be so nice to go to the beach," Sungchan sighs dreamily before his expression changes, "Oh, yeah. When are you going back to London?"

"I've got three full days after the wedding," you try to keep your voice steady, not wanting to give away how unsettled you felt about all the uncertainty, "We can spend that time together, yeah?"

He smiles gently, reaching up to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear and then placing his large palm on your cheek, "We can make the most of it. Then I'll find a good time to come see you in London."

It makes your heart skip a beat, "That'd be nice."

Sungchan's eyes furrow together as he maintains his warm touch on you. He leans down, "Can I kiss you?"

You don't reply. Instead, you reach up and press your lips against his. This time it's sweet and full of adoration instead of the angst and desperation of a few days ago. He smiles against your lips and you taste the hint of salt, vodka and a little something sweet. When he pulls away, he leans his forehead against yours and exhales, content and feeling like he can finally breathe again.

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

vi. i trust the universe will always bring me to you

The day comes around all too quickly when time had been passing so slow in the week before. The rehearsal dinner was beautiful, but over in a flash and then suddenly, you were in the guesthouse of the venue, watching with teary eyes as your best friend in the world clips her veil on.

Her mother sniffles next to you, clutching your arm tightly. Hana was biting her pink-stained lips, trying to keep herself from crying off her pretty makeup. The room's drop-dead quiet with all eyes trained on her on her special day.

"My beautiful baby," Hana's mother coos at her only daughter when she looked over at you all expectantly for your reactions.

"You're gonna make me cry! Stop it," she whines adorably, but accepts the tight squeeze her mother wraps her in.

She turns to you and you have to look up to blink the tears away before you can hug her again, "The most beautiful bride in the world," you whisper fondly, "I am so happy for you, Hana."

"Thank you for being here with me," she says sincerely, squeezing your hands, "And for being my best friend in the world."

She gives her bridesmaid hugs too until the coordinator tells you it's time for your best friend to get married. You all file out of the room in order to walk over to the ceremony hall, with Hana being the last one to leave. Ahead of you when you get to the entrance, you finally see the boys all huddled around Shotaro, who looked both nervous and giddy at the same time.

Hana stays hidden from the groom, but you spot the tallest boy of the group and tug on his sleeve.

"Y/N," he gasps when he turns around, his gaze softening into pure adoration, "Oh, baby, you look so beautiful."

The dress you picked out with Hana falls perfectly on your body and the colour is the perfect complement to your skin. The fabric drapes delicately in all the right places and hugs where it should. It makes you feel incredible, especially when Sungchan reacts the way he does.

"You look really handsome too, Sungchan," you reach up to straighten his tie as you all file into your orders.

"Shall we?" Sungchan asks nervously, offering his arm out to you as he notices the other pairs link together.

You smile at him, entwining your arms together and pressing yourself into his side. Before you forget, you turn around to see Shotaro rubbing his hands together.

"It's gonna be amazing, Taro," you reassure him.

Shotaro sighs in relief, "I just can't wait to marry her."

You're happy to know your best friend gets the happy ending she deserves.

Sungchan nudges you when the door opens and the pairs start walking down the aisle. It goes by in a heartbeat for you- you don't even remember what happened between the time you started walking and the time you and Sungchan separated to stand on either side of the altar.

When Hana walks in, you almost cry again. She's radiant in white and her eyes are so full and shiny with love as she keeps her eyes on her groom waiting for her. The wedding is beautiful and the vows make everyone laugh and cry.

You meet Sungchan's eyes multiple times through the ceremony and each time, he gives you this subtle, but comforting smile to reassure you that he was there. You wonder if you'd have been in Hana and Shotaro's place earlier had everything not happened.

Ever since she asked you to be her maid of honour, you've been preparing for the speech you were asked to give at the reception. You're nervous the whole time as the MC introduces you and prepares to hand you the mic and Hana gently squeezes your hand before you stand up with a fond look in her eyes. Sungchan on the other side of Shotaro is still looking at you like you hung the stars.

"For those that don't know me, my name is Y/N and Hana has been my best friend since we were born," you begin slowly, taking the time to breathe, "Our parents are friends from the same neighbourhood and we grew up together, practically as twins. When we were young, we were as inseparable as they came and did everything together. We went to all the same schools, all the way up to college, which was when I introduced Shotaro to her.

"Hana was the reason that I was able to date my first love by her meddling in high school. Ever since then, I had wanted to find the perfect match for her to share her heart with and to make her happy. Sorry Shotaro, but Hana has been my other half since birth and I felt like I knew her well enough to know who she'd click with. When I first met Shotaro in that tiny freshman dorm, I knew he'd be perfect for Hana.

"Taro and Hana are two of the most loving, gentle and caring people I have in my life and I can't be any happier to know that my best friend is loved the exact way she deserves. She's the best person I know and knowing I played a part in introducing her to her person makes me so happy. Even though I'm thousands of miles across the world, their love inspires me every day. They've felt like a married couple since the day they started dating and their love hasn't flickered or weaned once since.

"It feels just like yesterday when Hana and I were planning our dream weddings in our childhood bedrooms and here we are now, marrying you off to the love of your life. May the rest of your life together be filled with endless love and happy memories. I love you both so much."

Hana is tearing up by the time you finish your speech and you have to gulp to hold your own tears back. She stands up to hug you tightly and Shotaro follows beside her. They both thank you for the lovely speech and you hand the mic over to Sungchan once he's announced.

"When I met Shotaro on the first day of freshman year, I was honestly terrified. He looked so intimidating and scary up until I found out that it was only because he wasn't quite fluent in Korean yet and was actually from Japan. We were roommates in freshman year, so we got to know each other pretty well. He's been my best friend since and I'm grateful to have such a thoughtful, considerate, sweet and of course, talented, friend in him.

"Taro and Hana's very first date was at a diner on the other side of the city. What you two don't know is that Y/N and I actually followed you there and spied on you in wigs and glasses," you gasp in remembrance at the memory and burst out into a large smile, "And then we swore to each other that we'd keep this secret until your wedding day after your disastrous first date when you both came home crying in frustration because you liked each other so much that you were too nervous on the first date. We had to chaperone your next few dates and it was such an honour for us to watch you fall in love with each other with our very own eyes.

"I met Hana at 14 and I was scared of her for a few years, but even then, I knew she was a crazy loyal best friend to Y/N, who would do anything for her best friend's happiness. Even now, she shows me she cares in all the small and big ways and having the two of them in my life makes me feel very lucky. And even though I cringe at you two for still being in your honeymoon phase 8 years later, I couldn't be any happier that you have each other to have and to hold. Thank you for everything you've done for me and I also love you both very, very much."

Later on in the night after the dinner and cake-cutting, Jiwoo, Seunghan and Sungchan join you at the bar getting the signature cocktails created by the couple.

"You guys did such lovely speeches," Jiwoo says sincerely, clinking her drink against yours.

"Thank you. I didn't want to embarrass them so I held back on that aspect," Sungchan chuckles.

"And you mentioned that Hana set you up with your first love. Are you still together? Are they here?" she asks you curiously, innocent to the situation.

Seunghan coughs into his drink and has to turn around to control his face. Sungchan tenses up beside you, but you look over at him and smile softly, "Yeah, he's here."

Jiwoo's eyes widen in shock as she begins to laugh awkwardly, "Oh! I'm sorry- I didn't know you guys were together! Hana never mentioned!"

"Don't worry, Jiwoo," you reassure her.

"Jiwoo, look- Mina's calling you over," Seunghan points out across the room, where Mina, Taehee and Anton were chatting at a table. Jiwoo flashes a sheepish smile before she disappears away into the crowd. The younger boy looks between the two of you, "I thought that was taboo."

Sungchan rolls his eyes at his friend and places his free hand around your waist to the bewilderment of Seunghan, "None of your business."

He slaps his palm across his mouth, "I knew it! I knew this was going to happen."

"Don't go around telling everyone now," you request from him, "It's Hana and Taro's wedding after all."

"Of course," Seunghan nods enthusiastically and then relaxes into a soft smile, "I'm happy for the two of you, though."

He's whisked away by Eunseok and Wonbin, who both stare confused at your proximity but decide against saying anything as they get chased down by Hana's eccentric grandmother who always loved Eunseok when you were all younger.

Sungchan squeezes at your waist, "How you feeling?"

You look around the room at mostly familiar faces and the sight of your best friends breaking it down on the dance floor, "It's crazy- like, they're really married! When did we all grow up so fast?"

"I know, right? They'll be having kids soon, I bet," Sungchan agrees with a fond stare over at the couple, "The wedding was so beautiful as well."

"But then it's over just like that," you sigh, "Well, I guess those two are going off to their honeymoon literally tonight, so it won't feel like it's over for them yet."

"Oh, tonight? They're just leaving you in the house alone?" Sungchan raises an eyebrow curiously.

"Mhm, Hana didn't want me to book a hotel for just a few days," you say off-handedly, not picking up on his tone.

"Oh," Sungchan gulps, "I don't want you to be alone- do you, maybe, wanna come over?"

When your head whips around to look at him, he's already flushing red. You don't know if it's the alcohol or something else, but he's gnawing on his lip. You just give him a reassuring smile, "I'd like that, actually."

After some dancing with your best friend and childhood friends and some mingling with the parents, you're saying a very tearful goodbye to Hana and Shotaro in the foyer of the venue. Their bags are packed and with them and they're about to head to the airport to jet away.

"Promise you'll come back more often, yeah?" Hana is crying into your shoulder, "Thank you for everything you've done this week. I'm gonna miss you so much."

You have a feeling you'll be back much sooner than another 4 years.

"Enjoy yourself, okay? You're gonna have such a great time, Mrs. Osaki!" you sniffle into her jumper.

You embrace Shotaro in a similar fashion as he also thanks you for the help. He drops a wink as he says, "Check on the house at least once before you go, okay? I know you probably won't be there much."

"No idea what you're talking about," you try to keep a straight face, but you both burst out laughing.

You watch them ride off into the night in a blacked out SUV and try to dry your tears as you feel a weight drop on your shoulders in the form of an arm, "Ready to go? The taxi's coming soon."

Sungchan's presence is warm in the blustery foyer, "Yeah."

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

You rest your eyes with your head on his shoulder the entire journey back to Sungchan's place. His hand finds home on your thigh, the pad of his thumb brushing repeatedly over the silk of your dress. His suit jacket sits comfortably around your shoulders as you doze in and out of sleep, but the car stops before you've even realised.

"We're here, Y/N," he whispers to pull you into consciousness. He thanks the driver and rushes around to your door to open it for you.

It's dark when you step out and the nearest street light doesn't illuminate your surroundings enough for you to recognise what part of the city you were in. Sungchan grips your hand in his tightly all the way through the side-street and into the lobby of the apartment building.

He keeps quiet beside you, only the pattering of your heels and his dress shoes echoing into the empty room. You come to your senses quickly and then gasp.

"Sungchan," you freeze beside him.

He chuckles softly, "Yeah, I know."

"No one told me," you say quietly as he leads you to the elevator, "Chanie."

"It's home," he shrugs as he presses the floor of the apartment.

You're nervous when you get off at the floor, then it grows as he keys in the code on the pad. You gulp at the order of the numbers- the same sequence it's been since you moved in four and a half years ago.

"Welcome back," Sungchan murmurs behind you. He places his hand on the small of your back to gently guide you inside, since your feet were planted into the ground.

It smells exactly the same as when you left (though more of his scent and none of yours) and then he turns the lights on and you choke up as it looks nearly identical as before. It's the very first home you and your first love moved into together and it breaks your heart all over again to know he's been living here this whole time.

The shoe rack you picked out still sits by the door, but it's only occupied by large men's shoes now. The artwork you and Sungchan bickered about is still hanging above the chest of drawers on the other side of the door where you used to dump keys and bags and other knick knacks you collected for the 6 months you lived here.

"Oh, baby, don't cry," Sungchan is now in front of you, wiping at the tears you didn't even know were falling.

"Why didn't you move out?" you lean into his touch.

"Because this was our first home," he says, "And this was all I had left of you."

You crash your body against his, wrapping your arms around his waist tightly as your tears soaked into his dress shirt, now stained with your makeup.

"Shh, don't cry, my love. It's okay. I was strong enough," Sungchan murmurs into your hair as he presses his lips into your scalp, "You know that I love you, mhm? I always will."

"Channie, I love you," you cry even harder as he squeezes you, "I'm so, so sorry."

"I know. But you came back home to me," Sungchan sighs contently, smoothing your hair down to comfort you, "That's all I can ask for."

"I ruined us."

Sungchan shakes his head, "No, baby. You're here now. It's fine."

"It's all my fault."

Sungchan unwraps your arms from around him and takes your hand to lead you to the bedroom you made home in the past. He sits you down at the edge of the bed as you cry and crouches in front of you, holding your hands.

"You look so, so beautiful, my love. Don't cry, come on," he soothes, "I'm here, Y/N. I'm here."

Sungchan finds a packet of makeup wipes from your bag and swipes gently at your face as you sniffle and try to stop your tears. He goes through a few before the makeup is no longer staining your face and he hands you some tissue to blow your nose from the sobbing. While he waits for you patiently, you look up at the ceiling to try and stop the hot, silent tears that kept escaping.

"Do you think we'd have been married by now?" you ask, guilt surging in your vessels, "We always wanted to get married as soon as possible."

Sungchan's soft gaze falters for a second, but then he comes up to sit next to you and wrap you in his large arms, "It doesn't matter, Y/N. It's not your fault."

"But I left," you mutter.

"And I made you feel like you had to," Sungchan pats you comfortingly, "We'll be better this time, mhm? We'll know better."

"But what if I'm not the same person anymore you used to love?"

Sungchan furrows his brows tightly together, "That's nonsense. The moment I saw you again in that café, I knew. You're still the one who has my heart. I promise."

He holds you a few minutes longer, whispering sweet nothings into your ears as you halt the crying. You grip onto him tightly, afraid he was going to leave you- ironic, isn't it?

When you finally calm down, he drags you to the bathroom to brush your teeth together with his spare toothbrush and he washes your face with a foaming cleanser while you do the same to him. When you're applying his moisturiser on your skin, he watches from behind you, arms holding onto your waist as he blinks slowly through the mirror. And when you realise you don't have any clothes, he unzips your dress from the top and dresses you up in one of his favourite shirts, adoring the way it swamps you.

He gives you this look and pulls you under the sheets, immediately tackling you into a hug and covering your body with his.

"This isn't really taking it slow, is it?" you hum, tracing shapes onto his bare arms.

"It is for me," Sungchan's eyes flutter shut in contentment, "If I had things my way, we'd be up on that altar beside Taro and Hana. How does a double wedding sound to you?"

You gasp and break out into laughter as you shove against his body, but he pulls you in tighter, "Shut up. You'd so be the type to propose at someone else's wedding."

He scoffs, as if offended, "Hell no. Do you wanna know how I'd do it?" you miss the way his voice wavers. His eyes are still closed and you're staring into his chest, "In a flower field or meadow, you in a pretty dress. Maybe we'd have a picnic, but it would be definitely be on a sunny day because you're extra happy when the sun is out. I'd set up a camera or something. Say I want to take pictures of us and there's no one else around. And when I succeed in distracting you, I would get down on one knee and you'd turn around and start crying, probably. And you'd love the ring too."

Your voice drops to barely a whisper, "Seems like you've thought about it a lot."

"You were the only person I could have ever imagined spending my life with. And I didn't want to spend any time apart from you," Sungchan admits, "When I bought the ring after saving my first few pays, I got scared and I pulled away. I had no idea it would drive you away in the end. I'm sorry for that."

Your heart stops, "The ring?"

He lets out this heavy sigh as he turns around and reaches over to pull his nightstand drawer open. He digs around into the depths of it and pulls out a box. It looks tiny in the palm of his hands and he presents it to you with his big brown eyes suddenly tearing up. He's doing that thing where he's nibbling on his lips and looking up and away to stop the tears falling.

"I don't want you to feel guilty or sorry. I just need you to know everything before we can start again," he mumbles, "If you want to open it, you can. Of if you don't, you don't have to."

For the countless time since the day started, you're crying again. You're in his arms, again.

"Sungchan," you cry out, "You were going to propose?"

"I wanted forever with you," he coo's sweetly, brushing the hair out of your face to plant kisses on your cheeks, "I still do."

You take the box from his hold and open it slowly, breath hitched. He's right- you love it so much that your stomach twists into itself. You had always wondered what ring would call to your heart- you didn't think you could describe it if someone asked, but Sungchan had known then, even without asking.

"It's a bit dusty now. I haven't looked at it in a while," Sungchan giggles.

Your heart is beating fast, almost out of your chest as you eye the metal and the precious stone. It's even better than any ring you saw in that jewellery store with him. You can feel his eyes locked on you as you take the ring out from its plush cushion and inspect it close up.

The room is only lit with a dim lamp, but the stone sparkles in the dark anyway. You can see something engraved inside the band, but your hands can't stop shaking long enough to read it. Sungchan's looking at you and he looks nearly exactly the same as he did 4 years ago in this very spot.

"Do you like it?" he asks quietly, "I picked it out by myself."

You don't say another word as you toss the box beside you and slip the ring effortlessly on the finger it was intended to rest on. Sungchan opens his mouth but you catch the gasp with your kiss as you smash your lips against his. He makes this strangulated noise as his fingers dig in to the side of your hips to pull you over him and his tongue slips into your mouth.

You kiss fervently, ferociously, having been devoid of his taste for more days than you wish would have passed. The cold metal of the ring digs into the side of his cheek, but Sungchan has never known more bliss than this.

"You can't take it back," Sungchan pants against your lips as he captured them again in a hot kiss. His hands slide up your bare flanks under the loose shirt and you detach from his mouth just to be able to gnaw at the side of his neck in that one spot you remember he loves.

His sweet mouth curses into the still air, "Fuck, Y/N."

"I love you," you murmur into his neck as his hands run wild, "I always will."

Sungchan places a hand over yours, the stone now digging into his palms. It's worth it, he tells himself now. You're here, he tells himself.

"I love you. It'll only ever be you."

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

vii. i'm always, forever, runnin' back to you

The city is too polluted for you to ever feel like you're taking in a breath of fresh air. You should probably hold your breath, even.

Though the sky is teetering on the border of blue and grey, the sun still peeks through the clouds and greets you with a diffuse, warm light. You're humming to yourself as you walk down the street, head up to avoid walking into anyone. There's no music in your ears because you want to appreciate the rare sunny days that look like they'll be pulled from under you at any minute.

Your surroundings are familiar, having walked them nearly daily for the past few years, but when it comes to a crossing, you turn left today and instead of right. It's a diversion you take on special occasions- a diversion that takes you to your favourite café in the entire city. They serve the best cakes and pastries that are the cherry on top to anything you have to celebrate. Sometimes it's a promotion, sometimes a birthday and other times just a hard day that you didn't think you would make it out the other side of.

Before it comes into view, your phone rings.

"Hello?"

"Hey," your best friend's voice rings out through the speaker, "You finished work?"

"Mhm, I'm walking to that café I took you to now," you tell her, "What are you doing up? It must be, what? 2 or 3 in the morning there?"

"Late night at the office anyway with this huge case. I just got home," she sighs and you can finally hear the exhaustion in her voice, "But I also couldn't miss this. I'm proud of you."

"It's kind of a bittersweet feeling," you hum thoughtfully, "Thank you for calling, Han. But get yourself to sleep now."

"Are you at the café now?"

You nod before you realise she can't see you so you affirm verbally as the shop front enters your field of vision. You're met with a surprise that causes a smile to spread on your face.

"Yeah, just got here. I'll talk to you and Taro soon, okay?" you coo at your best friend who bids you farewell before you hang up the phone.

There's a tall figure leaning against the brick wall beside the shop entrance. He's got his hands in both pockets and he's watching your every step with an impatient, but fond stare.

"You said you weren't here yet!"

"Took your time, hm?" his voice is the closest thing that feels like home now until you walk straight into him and wrap your arms around his torso, "Surprise!"

"It's my last time doing that walk," your own voice muffles against his black shirt.

"How was your last day of work?" Sungchan strokes your hair gently as you bury yourself closer.

"I cried a bit saying goodbye to my co-workers," you admit, "But I know this is the right choice. I didn't even mean to stay here this long."

Sungchan hums from above, "Thank you for choosing this, though."

You look around the street you find yourself on in this area of London, knowing it's the last time you'll be here for a long time until you decide to come back and visit.

"Home has always been where you are," you pull away from him to intertwine your hands, "I miss Seoul and everyone there. London has taught me so much, but mostly that I can't live without you. These past 5 months were horrific too."

"Well, we're on the other side now," Sungchan leads you into your favourite café, the one you showed him when he first visited London 5 months ago just a few weeks after your friends' wedding.

You recommend things to order and end up with a generous spread on the table. Sungchan watches with a loving gaze as you arrange the plates to form an aesthetic birds eye view and you snap away with your phone camera.

You handed in your notice as soon as you got back from the wedding, but you had to wait to wrap up the big project that you had just started back then. Sungchan flew to London three weeks after the wedding on a whim and you had spent those two weeks he could work remotely playing house in your apartment in the evenings and showing him around the UK on the weekends. Then, you were apart for 5 months as he saved up his holiday time at his work and you were only connected via late night and early morning video calls to satisfy the itch of being together.

It wasn't always easy, of course. There were some weeks that you were able to spend more time with each other than others and it got frustrating at times, but you always managed to put it back into perspective that it wasn't long until you were reunited again without a looming flight to take you away.

He arrived in London a few days ago, helping to pack up your place while you were tying the last few loose ends at your job. It always felt nice coming back home to him at the end of the day and going back to Seoul feels like such a relief knowing you're going to come back home to him again every day for hopefully the rest of your life.

You and Sungchan share each dish, savouring your last bites for the foreseeable future. He takes photos of you when he thinks you're not looking and you kick against his feet casually. It feels like you're still in your honeymoon phase, even though you should be celebrating 10 years of your relationship this year. To be fair, it's only been 6 months since you've rekindled, but your love still burns bright like it was never encased into a small flicker.

He holds your hand the entire walk home, brushing his thumb on your skin as he talks your ear off about everything and nothing in the world. Being by his side brings you this peace and comfort that you didn't even realise you were lacking, as if your body has just been running on auto-pilot the past few years without him, surviving only long enough until you were finally reunited again.

"Hana's gonna be so excited too," Sungchan exhales, an air of anticipation in his voice.

One thing about you and Hana- you could keep secrets for the benefit of the other. She knew how shocked you'd be when she turned up at your door in London over a year ago with that ring. You decided to turn the table on your best friend, waiting the 6 months until you got back in Seoul to tell her about the ring that was sitting on the ring finger of your hand.

Even your parents don't know yet, wanting to wait until you could tell them in person. In a perfect world, Sungchan would have liked to ask your parents for your hand in marriage beforehand, but considering how excited they were to see you two holding hands and slow-dancing together at the wedding, neither of you think either set of parents would care.

Your mother has been begging for Sungchan to come and visit the house while you've been in London, claiming she was due a catch up with him, but you begged her to relax until you were back in the city.

"We'll have so much to do when we get back to Seoul," you hum along, "Hana and Taro seemed kinda stressed doing all of it too."

"But now they've experienced it, they can help us," Sungchan shrugs and goes quiet for a second before he starts kind of giggling.

Though it makes your heart burst at his adorable nature, you look at him quizzically, "What?"

"We're getting married," he continues that cute noise as he squeezes your hand in a pulsatile manner, "I'm getting married to the love of my life."

You roll your eyes playfully but your cheeks are turning pink as joy blooms in the depths of your bones, "Yeah, yeah, and lucky you, you didn't even have to organise a proposal."

Sungchan gasps and he splats your still-entwined hands over his heart like he was just shot, "Y/N," he whines, "I told you I would organise one! You don't know how much I want to properly propose to you."

You chuckle at him softly and nudge his side, "I'm just playing. You know that our moment was perfect. It was so very us."

"Don't worry, baby. I'm gonna plan the most perfect wedding for us too," he smiles down at you.

"What did I do to deserve such a sweetheart like you?" you press a kiss into the back of his hand as the two of you enter the tube station together.

You know he hates it whenever you talk about feeling guilty for the past or not being enough for him. You've been working through your feelings over these months, trying to be more open while he does his best to reassure you. But Sungchan gives you this look, just perfectly content in this moment, "I'm just for you, and you're just for me. It'll always be that way. Now let's go home."

a/n: thank you thank you thank you for reading. find my masterlist here & all likes, comments, reblogs and feedback are so, so appreciated <3

[mugglebornmarvelite]

Christmas Chaos

Paring: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Fem! Reader (Grumpy x Sunshine)

Summary: Your first Christmas with the team is one for the books. The excitement of unwrapping gifts turns into delightful chaos. 

Word Count: Roughly 1.1k 

Warnings: Fluff, Mild Violence (threats and roughhousing), Christmas themes, Bucky's red henley (totally deserves it's own warning)

Author’s Note: According to TikTik, tons of people didn't get what they wanted for Christmas; so here’s a little something I whipped up because I’ve been awake since 5 this morning and I have had three cups of coffee. I typed this on my phone, so if there are errors, I apologize. If you like this, you’re welcome and if you don’t, it wasn’t me :)

Navigation

Divider by: @strangergraphics 

You wake up to muffled noises from downstairs. You bury your face in your pillow, before looking at your phone for the time. It is too early to be up on any regular day, but today was different. It's Christmas day! Christmas day with your favorite people. You slipped on your fluffy slippers and quietly padded downstairs, rubbing your eyes and yawning softly. 

“Merry Christmas!” you chirped to the team.  

Natasha smiled and raised her mug of coffee. 

Wanda smiled and handed you a cup of hot chocolate. 

Tony was busy arguing with Bruce over an instruction manual, and Steve and Sam argued over who had better gift-wrapping critiques. But as you scanned the room, you noticed. Bucky wasn’t there.  

“Where’s Bucky?” you asked with a small frown.  

“He’s upstairs,” Sam said casually. “Brooding, probably.”  

“I can go get him…” You offered, only to be cut off.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Steve gave you a small grin, ruffling your hair. “Trust us.”  

Wanda passed you your stocking, filled with goodies. The works of small trinkets, candy and chocolate coins.

You grinned as you and Peter dove into the chocolates.

Tony already started complaining about the sugar rush you both would get.

Then, Steve pointed to a large, festively wrapped box.  

“This one’s for you, kid.”  

Your eyes widened. The box was massive, and you crouched down to peel the wrapping paper off. 

“What in the world?” you murmured, pulling off layer after layer. With a puzzled look, you pried it open.  

“Bucky?!”  

The former Winter Soldier was sitting cross-legged in the box, arms tied with rope, a gag around his mouth, and a pretty red bow on his head. He wore a snug red henley and gray sweatpants, looking both murderous and utterly done with life.  

He looked divine, even tied up. Delicious. Marvelous. He could make greek gods envious.

“Merry Christmas, sunshine,” Steve and Sam chorused, howling with laughter.  

Your jaw dropped, and then a giggle bubbled out of you as you knelt by the box. “Oh my gosh, you two didn’t! Poor Bucky!”  

Bucky’s piercing glare snapped to Steve and Sam. He growled something unintelligible through the gag, making them laugh harder. Your cheeks flushed as you gently began untying the bow and ropes.  

“I’m so sorry they did this to you,” you said, smiling softly as you helped him out of the box.  

Bucky’s expression was a storm cloud, but when his sharp blue eyes landed on your sweet, genuine smile, his hardened features instantly softened. 

“Merry Christmas, sunshine,” he murmured, pulling you into a surprisingly gentle hug. The heat of his body and the smell of fresh pine and something distinctly him filled your senses.  

You melted into the embrace, pressing your face into his chest as your arms circled his waist and whispered, “Merry Christmas, Bucky.”  

The tender moment lasted five seconds. Maybe eight, but who’s counting?

Then, he pulled back and turned to Steve and Sam.  

“You two are dead,” he growled, rolling his shoulders.  

Steve and Sam’s laughter ceased as they quickly stood. “Now, Buck, let’s talk about this—”  

But Bucky was already moving towards them, cracking his knuckles menacingly.  

“We’re going to run,” Sam muttered, and the two bolted out of the room, Bucky hot on their heels, shouting threats about payback.  

Watching the chase unfold, you couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped your lips. Natasha caught your eyes as she sipped her coffee.  

“Guess you’re his sunshine, huh?” she teased.  

You bit your lip, cheeks warm as you whispered, “Maybe.” 

Natasha smirked knowingly but didn’t push further. Instead, she was content to watch the chaos unfold as Bucky cornered Sam near the Christmas tree.  

“You think tying me up is funny?” Bucky growled, advancing with a predatory stride.  

“It wasn’t just me!” Sam yelped, using the tree as a barrier. “Steve came up with the idea!”  

Steve, who was inching toward the kitchen in a futile attempt to escape unnoticed, froze under Bucky’s glare.  

“Traitor,” he muttered under his breath, cursing Sam’s lack of discretion.  

“Traitor?” Bucky repeated, catching the word. “You both tied me up like a damn Christmas present and you’re calling him the traitor?”  

You stifled a laugh behind your hand, stepping closer. “Okay, okay, Bucky. Maybe don’t kill them? It is Christmas.”  

“Besides, we did it for her,” Sam pointed at you to soften the blow. “Right, sugarplum?”

“Do not call her sugarplum. Ever.” Bucky warned Sam.

“Bucky,” You called softly, looking up at him.

Bucky paused, looking back at you. 

His sharp glare softened into something almost dopey when he saw your pleading eyes and soft smile. 

With a sigh, he rolled his eyes and muttered, “Fine. They live. For now.”  

Sam exhaled audibly, his shoulders slumping in relief. “Thank you, sunshine!” he called to you, grinning.  

But Bucky turned sharply, pointing a finger at him. “Don’t push it.”  

Sam immediately zipped his mouth,

Steve, ever the brave one, chuckled and clapped Bucky on the shoulder as he passed. “Merry Christmas, old pal.”  

Bucky’s only response was a low grumble of curse before sitting on the couch. 

You disappeared into the kitchen and came back a few moments later, offering him a warm mug of hot cocoa in your hands.

“Here,” you said softly, “Hot cocoa. Consider it a peace offering on behalf of Steve and Sam.”  

Bucky eyed the mug for a moment, then you. He took it without a word, his fingers brushing yours briefly, sending a little jolt through you.  

“Thanks,” he muttered, taking a sip.  

You sat beside him, your own cocoa in hand, legs tucked beneath you as you leaned against the armrest. The room buzzed with holiday chatter and laughter, but your attention stayed on the super soldier beside you.  

“I hope they didn’t ruin your day,” you said after a moment, voice tinged with genuine concern.  

Bucky glanced at you, his lips quirking up in a faint smile. “Nah. Nothing can ruin my day when you are smiling at me like that, sunshine.”  

Your cheeks burned and you looked away.

Natasha, who had been observing the exchange from across the room, smirked and leaned over to Clint. “He’s whipped,” she whispered.  

Clint raised an eyebrow, glancing at you and Bucky before nodding. “Completely.”  

Bucky leaned back on the couch, sipping his cocoa and sneaking glances at you. Every now and then, his lips would tug into a soft smile. 

Without a word, he shifted, inching toward you on the couch. He casually draped his arm across the back of the couch, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

You eagerly took the opportunity to tuck yourself into Bucky’s side.

This time, leaving his cheeks burning.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Happy Holidays! Stay warm/cool wherever you're at.

Tell your loved ones that you love them.

And if nobody told you today, I love you <3

If you'd like to be added to my taglist

Much love x

- Maeve

[zeroseuniverse]

Hiiii! I just read the s.coups as a lovesick fool who's absolutely whipped for his gf even though he's a gang leader and I have to say girl you slayed . I dont know if you take requests but could you please write about their love story or how he fell for her ? It would be so cuteeee.

Love Sick Fool II

Word Count: 1.5K Summary:"Boss, why are we here again?" "Coffee's decent." "Hyung, you don't even like coffee." "Shut up, Mingyu." Pairing: S.coups X reader

Taglist: @haaruki  @agaha127 @zaycie @sh0dor1 @tinyelfperson @lezleeferguson-120  @ltfirecracker

Navigation

The first time Seungcheol saw you, you were nothing more than a passing presence in a world he ruled with an iron fist. He was used to people avoiding his gaze, lowering their heads in fear or respect. But you? You looked right at him.

It wasn’t a challenge, nor was it admiration. It was a simple glance—curious, unafraid.

And that was enough to make him pause.

You were working at a small café, one he only stepped into because Joshua insisted they needed a place to lay low for an hour. It was nothing special—at least, it shouldn't have been. But the moment you approached the table, notebook in hand, Seungcheol felt something shift.

“What can I get for you?”

Your voice was light, patient, not at all like the people who usually spoke to him with nervous energy or calculated charm. He was about to answer when Jeonghan spoke up first.

“An americano for me, please,” Jeonghan said smoothly, flashing you a practiced smile.

Seungcheol expected you to melt the way most people did under Jeonghan’s charm. Instead, you barely spared him a glance as you jotted down the order.

“And for you?” you asked, looking directly at Seungcheol.

For some reason, it took him a second too long to answer. He was used to commanding a room, controlling situations, but here you were—entirely unaffected, treating him like just another customer.

Joshua nudged him, amusement flickering in his eyes. Seungcheol cleared his throat. “Same. Americano.”

“Got it.”

That should’ve been the end of it. You should’ve walked away, and he should’ve returned to discussing business. But as you turned, someone at a nearby table bumped into you, causing the tray you were carrying to tilt. In a split second, Seungcheol’s hand shot out, steadying the tray before it could fall.

You blinked, surprised, before offering a small smile. “Good reflexes.”

He let go of the tray, fingers lingering for just a second too long. “Comes with the job.”

You didn’t ask what that job was. Maybe you already knew. Maybe you didn’t care. Either way, you simply gave a nod before walking off.

Seungcheol watched you go, an unfamiliar weight settling in his chest.

Jeonghan smirked. “That was interesting.”

“Shut up,” Seungcheol muttered, but even as they went back to their conversation, his mind kept wandering back to you.

Over the next few weeks, he found excuses—ridiculous, unnecessary excuses—to stop by the café.

"Boss, why are we here again?"

"Coffee's decent."

"Hyung, you don't even like coffee."

"Shut up, Mingyu."

Every time he walked in, you’d greet him with the same calm, easy presence. You never pried, never tiptoed around him like others did. Instead, you teased him about ordering the same drink every time, raised an eyebrow when he lingered too long after closing, and even smirked once when he threatened a guy outside the shop—completely unfazed by the power he held.

He couldn’t figure you out.

And that drove him crazy.

Until one night, when he walked in just as some drunk idiot was grabbing your wrist.

Seungcheol didn’t think—he acted.

In seconds, the guy was shoved against the counter, Seungcheol’s forearm pressing into his throat. “You have three seconds to apologize before you regret ever walking in here.”

The man stammered, clearly regretting all his life choices. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

“Leave.”

The guy bolted.

Seungcheol turned back to you, expecting fear, maybe even shock. Instead, you sighed, shaking your head. “You’re really dramatic, you know that?”

He stared. “Excuse me?”

You crossed your arms. “I could’ve handled him.”

He scoffed. “Yeah? And what were you gonna do, throw a sugar packet at him?”

You smirked. “I was thinking hot coffee to the face, but your way works too.”

For the first time in a long time, Seungcheol laughed. A real, genuine laugh.

And that’s when it hit him.

He was already falling.

Falling for the person who never looked at him with fear.

Falling for the one who treated him like something more than a name whispered in hushed tones.

Falling for the only person who made him forget, even for a moment, that he was someone the world feared.

He was utterly, completely doomed.

And from that day on, Choi Seungcheol—the most powerful, ruthless gang leader in the city—was absolutely, irreversibly whipped.

Falling for you was easy. It was everything after that that terrified him.

Seungcheol was used to controlling—to knowing every move before it happened, to staying two steps ahead. But you? You threw every rule out the window. He didn’t know how to navigate this—this warmth, this lightness, this you.

He should’ve kept his distance. Should’ve told himself that a man like him didn’t get to have things like this.

But the moment he knew—really knew—that he was yours?

It was the night you patched him up.

It had been a messy deal. One of his men screwed up, someone pulled a knife, and though Seungcheol got the situation under control, he took a hit in the process. A deep gash along his side, bleeding more than he liked.

He should’ve gone to a safehouse. Should’ve called Wonwoo to handle it.

But somehow, his feet led him straight to you.

When you opened your door to find him standing there, blood staining his shirt, your eyes widened—but not in fear. Never in fear.

"Sit," you ordered, pulling him inside without hesitation.

He let you. Let you press him onto your couch, let you pull out a first-aid kit, let you mutter curses under your breath as you lifted his shirt to assess the damage.

“This is bad,” you murmured, hands surprisingly steady as you cleaned the wound. “You should be in a hospital.”

“No hospitals.”

You sighed, but didn’t argue. You never did—not about this. Instead, you worked quietly, patching him up with gentle but firm hands.

And then, as you finished securing the bandage, you looked up.

“Seungcheol,” you said softly. “You can’t keep doing this.”

His breath caught.

Not because of the pain. Not because of the wound.

But because of the way you said his name—like it mattered. Like he mattered.

He could handle knives, bullets, enemies plotting against him in the dark. But this? The way you looked at him, eyes filled with something dangerously close to care?

That was lethal.

“I’m fine,” he said, voice rough.

You frowned. “No, you’re not.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but then you did something he didn’t expect.

You reached out—slowly, carefully—and rested a hand against his cheek.

Seungcheol froze.

“You can’t just keep throwing yourself into danger like this,” you murmured. “You think I don’t notice when you show up like this? Or when you disappear for days and come back looking like hell?”

His throat felt tight. “This is the life I chose.”

Your jaw clenched. “And if something happens to you? If one day, you don’t walk through that door?”

He had no answer.

Because for the first time, he realized—he never thought about what his life meant to someone else.

But here you were. Worried. Angry. Scared for him.

Him. Choi Seungcheol. The man no one dared to care for because they knew it was dangerous.

Yet you did. You did.

And just like that, he was done for.

Utterly, completely yours.

Seungcheol wasn’t good with words.

He could command a room, negotiate million-dollar deals, and terrify a man into silence with just a look—but when it came to you? When it came to everything you made him feel?

Words felt useless.

So he showed you in the only ways he knew how.

By making sure you never walked home alone. By slipping extra cash into your pockets when he knew you were struggling. By waiting outside your café at night just to make sure you were safe.

And then, one night, he just… said it.

He hadn’t planned to. Hadn’t even thought about saying it yet. But you were standing in the kitchen, rambling about something that happened at work, and he was just watching you—watching the way your eyes lit up, the way your hands moved when you spoke, the way you existed in his space like you belonged there.

And before he could stop himself—before he could think about what it meant—he said it.

“I love you.”

You froze.

For a second, his heart stopped.

And then, slowly, you turned to look at him. “What did you just say?”

Shit.

He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly unsure if he should take it back, laugh it off—

But then you smiled.

Soft. Disbelieving. Radiant.

And just like that, the fear disappeared.

“You’re an idiot,” you whispered, stepping closer.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I know.”

You reached for him, fingers curling into his shirt. “Say it again.”

He smirked, heart pounding. “I love you.”

And when you pulled him down into a kiss, he knew—he would never stop saying it.

From that moment on, Seungcheol stopped caring who knew.

His gang? They figured it out the second they saw the way he looked at you.

His enemies? They learned the hard way that you were the one line they could never cross.

And you?

You never once made him feel like he had to choose between the world he built and the world you gave him.

Because somehow, somehow, you became both.

And Seungcheol—ruthless, untouchable Seungcheol—was yours in every way that mattered.

[brklynbxby]

closed starter for @mysteriousxgirls

Azriel’s formal Oxford shoes struck the pavement with a sharp, deliberate cadence as he emerged from the sleek black SUV, his presence undeniable amidst the chaotic hum of the nightclub’s entrance. Dressed in a sharp navy suit that hugged his frame just right, the crisp lines of the jacket contrasted against the casual edge of his unbuttoned white shirt underneath — a look both refined and dangerously laid-back. Luca moved just behind him, ever silent, his gaze cutting through the crowd with a cold, methodical precision. Maria was several paces ahead, her movements deliberate and laced with purpose, the subtle sway of her hips punctuating her every step. Her laughter, infectious and slightly careless, rose above the pounding bass, already weaving its way through the crowd as she set her sights on her prey. She was working her angle—feigned inebriation, the slightest tilt of her head, eyes cast toward a handful of strangers—an artful distraction.

The club pulsed with life, a kaleidoscope of flashing lights and bodies crammed into a space that left little to the imagination. Their movements were synchronised with the relentless beat of the music, each step in perfect harmony with the next. The air was dense with the acrid tang of cigarette smoke and the cloying scent of overpriced cologne, a suffocating haze that blurred the edges of reality and rendered everything just a shade too intimate. Azriel navigated through the throng with purposeful intent, every step measured, eyes scanning the room with surgical precision. They were here for a singular purpose: the ex-gang chemist who had vanished, now resurfaced under a new alias, peddling party drugs in places like this. Azriel had studied the intel; the man was tall, dark-haired, with a jawline as sharp as his calculated gaze. His eyes—those eyes that never quite met yours—locked onto him in an instant. The man they sought was stationed near the bar, his predatory gaze sweeping the room, searching for an opening. Luca’s eyes flicked over the dance floor, always alert, always assessing. “I don’t like this place,” He murmured, his voice barely rising above the incessant pulsing of the music. “Too many eyes, too many distractions.” Azriel shot him a glance—steady, unwavering, the calm in the midst of chaos. “That’s precisely the point. We blend in. We don’t attract attention. Keep it tight.”

Already in motion, Maria’s gaze locked onto the dealer across the room. With the precision of a seasoned operator, she moved toward him, her walk artfully exaggerated by a slight stumble, as though slightly tipsy. Easing onto the bar stool beside him, her posture languid and seductive, she leaned in just enough for him to catch the faint scent of alcohol on her breath, a calculated invitation. “Hey there, big guy,” she purred, her voice a syrupy blend of faux sweetness. “I’m not usually this fun, but tonight’s been... one of those nights,” A slow, tipsy grin curled at her lips as she spoke, the expression lazy and deliberately drawn out. Her gaze, deliberate and inviting, lingered for a fraction of a second longer than needed, crafting the subtle illusion of vulnerability, as though she were irresistibly receptive to whatever temptations he might extend.

Azriel’s attention remained fixed on the dealer. The ex-chemist’s features were unmistakable—his angular jawline, the shrewd, calculating gleam in his eyes, all wrapped in that same predatory allure. Subtle flickers in his gaze, darting between Maria and the sea of bodies, betrayed his intentions: he was poised, waiting for the perfect moment to act. Azriel’s focus was laser-sharp. There was no room for distraction, no tolerance for delay. The objective was clear. If this man was indeed the one they sought, the truth would be pried from him with ruthless efficiency. If he wasn’t, Azriel would ensure that he became irrelevant, swiftly and decisively. Maria had already captivated the dealer’s attention, and Azriel, knowing her methods all too well, recognised the delicate dance she performed. She was a master of misdirection, playing the role of a tipsy seductress with effortless precision, drawing him in with the promise of something more. Azriel knew some games required patience, so he pushed off from the wall and made his way to the other side of the bar, casually ordering a drink. His gaze never strayed from her, though, keeping a careful watch without drawing attention.

[kathaelipwse]

More Than Best Friends | L.Minho

Synopsis:

After being abandoned by your boyfriend upon discovering your pregnancy, you struggle to navigate motherhood alone—until your best friend, Lee Know, steps in. As he becomes your greatest support and the perfect father figure for your daughter, buried feelings resurface. But will you have the courage to confess that you have fallen in love with him?

Warnings: Just fluff honestly-

Word count: 1.1k

Authors Note:

Ah!! Lino as a girl dad <33

The pregnancy test sat on the bathroom counter, its two pink lines staring back at you like a reality you weren’t ready to accept. You felt your breath hitch as you sat on the floor, your arms wrapped around your knees. This wasn’t supposed to happen—at least, not like this. Your boyfriend, or rather, the man who was supposed to love you, had left as soon as you told him.

“I can’t do this,” he had said. “I’m not ready to be a father.”

And just like that, he was gone.

For days, you kept it to yourself, pushing away the one person you knew would see right through you—Lee Know, your best friend since childhood. If you told him, he’d worry, and you didn’t want to burden him. He had his own dreams, his own life to focus on.

So you avoided him.

You ignored his texts, dodged his calls, and canceled every plan you made. It wasn’t easy. Lee Know was persistent, showing up at your apartment unannounced, but you always found an excuse to push him away. He never pried, but you knew he was hurting.

Yet, even as you tried to keep your distance, you couldn’t erase him from your life completely. The ultrasound pictures sat on your bedside table—a reminder of the tiny life growing inside you. And, in some way, they were also a reminder of him. You had always imagined Lee Know being there, maybe as the fun uncle, spoiling your kid with treats and making them laugh. But never had you imagined him as more.

Until the day he found out.

Lee Know had finally had enough of your avoidance. He used the spare key you had given him years ago and let himself into your apartment, fully intending to scold you for acting weird.

“Alright, what’s your deal—” His voice cut off as his eyes landed on the small black and white images on your side table. He wasn’t stupid. He knew exactly what those were.

His heart pounded as he slowly stepped closer, picking up the ultrasound picture with shaky fingers.

“Is this…?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

You stood frozen in the doorway, your face drained of color.

“Lee Know, I—”

“Since when?” he demanded, turning to face you fully, his expression unreadable.

You swallowed hard, feeling the tears prick your eyes. “A few months.”

“A few months?” His voice rose. “You’ve been dealing with this alone for months?”

You looked away, shame washing over you. “I didn’t want to burden you.”

Lee Know let out a sharp breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Burden me? Are you serious right now? You’re my best friend! How could you think I wouldn’t be here for you?”

Tears finally spilled down your cheeks. “Because I was scared! He left, and I—”

Lee Know’s jaw clenched. “Who?”

You shook your head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“The hell it doesn’t,” he growled. “Tell me his name.”

You didn’t, but that didn’t stop Lee Know from feeling a burning rage in his chest. How could any man walk away from this? Walk away from you?

“I hate him,” he muttered under his breath before stepping closer. “But you’re not alone. You have me.”

And just like that, the weight you had been carrying for months felt a little lighter.

A few months later, you gave birth to a baby girl.

The moment you held your daughter in your arms, you felt an overwhelming sense of love and protection. But what surprised you most was the sight of Lee Know, standing by your side, looking down at the baby as if she were his own.

“She’s beautiful,” he whispered, eyes soft.

You turned to him, exhaustion evident in your voice. “Will you name her?”

Lee Know’s eyes widened. “Me?”

You nodded. “You’ve been here more than anyone else. You deserve it.”

He looked down at the tiny baby in his arms, her little fingers wrapping around his. And with a soft smile, he whispered the name that felt perfect.

“Minji.”

As the years passed, Lee Know became more than just your best friend. He became Minji’s protector, her playmate, her safe place. Even with his busy schedule, he always made time for her, whether it was bedtime stories, dance parties in the living room, or simply holding her when she had a bad dream.

And while you adored watching Lee Know bond with your daughter, a part of your heart ached. Because you had fallen in love with him.

But how could you ever tell him?

You weren’t the same as before. Motherhood had changed you—physically, emotionally. You weren’t the same girl Lee Know had grown up with. Your body had become curvier, softer, a reminder of the life you had brought into the world.

One night, you stood in front of the mirror, tugging at your oversized hoodie, trying to hide yourself. But Lee Know caught you.

“What are you doing?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You turned away. “Nothing.”

Lee Know stepped forward and gently pulled your hoodie up, revealing the small folds of your stomach. “Stop hiding.”

You flushed. “I just… don’t look the same.”

He scoffed. “So?”

“So, I don’t feel beautiful anymore.”

Lee Know stared at you before shaking his head. “You’re an idiot.”

Your eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

He leaned in, his hands resting on your waist. “You carried a whole human being. You think a few curves make you any less beautiful? If anything, you’re even sexier now.”

You felt your heart skip a beat as he smirked. “Seriously. I love every part of you.”

Your breath hitched. “Lee Know, I—”

“Mommy, Uncle Lino!” Minji ran into the room, interrupting the moment.

Lee Know laughed, picking her up effortlessly. “What’s up, princess?”

Minji pouted. “Why are you ‘Uncle Lino’ and not my daddy?”

Silence filled the room.

Your chest tightened as you looked at Lee Know, searching for an answer. But instead of hesitating, he just smiled.

“You can call me whatever you want, Minji.”

That night, you found the courage to confess.

“I love you, Lee Know,” you admitted, bracing yourself for rejection. “I know I come with baggage, and I—”

Lee Know rolled his eyes and closed the distance between you.

“Took you long enough,” he teased before lifting you onto the kitchen counter, trapping you between his arms.

You barely had time to process before his lips were on yours, soft yet demanding, as if he had been waiting for this moment forever.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours. “I’ve been yours this whole time.”

Minji’s giggle rang out from the doorway. “Eww, Uncle Lino!”

Lee Know turned, smirking. “Guess I’ll have to get used to ‘Dad’ now.”

And just like that, your little family was complete.

---

[milkb0nny]

Touch Cannot Lie

Pairing: Ivar x blind!reader

Summary: You were born without sight, but it never hurt your confidence as much since you managed to navigate and live just fine. However, other people belittle and underestimate you, which builds frustration. Though, one day you would learn someone else was feeling the same way.

Note: So, I haven't been active for some time but I'm trying to get back into it. I've been a lot into vikings and supernatural again, which is why I'm feeling motivated. 💕🫶 With that, I hope you enjoy this fic!

Warnings: fluff and butterflies in your stomach

Word count: ~1200

You stepped through the snow, its cold crunch beneath your boots breaking the silence of the forest. The paths were familiar, stuck in your memory from countless adventures shared with your siblings. These woods were more than trees and trails - they were a place of cherished moments with your beloved brothers. Your siblings had always believed in your strength, your courage, even though you couldn’t see the world as they did. They saw you as you, not as blindness.

The gods had denied you sight, but in its place, they blessed you with keen senses and an ability to see the truth in others. You learned to navigate not just the world, but the depths of people, detecting their intentions with ease. Over the years, you encountered every kind of person: those who pitied you, those who patronized you with unwanted help, and those who pried with questions born of insensitivity. You rarely encountered interest in your person, only the challenges of being blind bothered others. Yet, amidst them all, one man stood apart; someone who saw you for who you truly were, treating you with respect and dignity.

As you made your way deeper into the woods, the stillness was broken by the sound of footsteps. There was something distinct about them, something you have heard before. A rhythm accompanied by a dragging noise, as if someone were pulling a heavy object. Though they weren’t heading back toward the town, but deeper into the forest, just like you did. Before you could wonder further, voices emerged, familiar and comforting.

“Y/N!” a voice called, clear and warm. It was Ubbe. A smile crept across your face, and your pace quickened toward the raspy voice.

“Ragnarssons, what brings you out on this winter’s day?” you asked softly, moving confidently toward the voices.

“Careful, don’t fall,” Hvitserk said, reaching out to guide your hand, but you declined with a slight shake of your head. You continued steadily until you reached Ubbe and Ivar.

Ubbe spoke, explaining that they were discussing family matters and strategies for their revenge against the Saxon kingdom. You listened intently, walking beside Ivar and matching his pace. Ivar‘s voice filled the breezy air as he turned his attention to you.

“What about you? It’s rare to see you alone, Y/N,” he asked gently, though his eyes - unseen to you - glued on your frosty hands which were slightly red already.

“My brothers are busy preparing for the next feast in the grand hall,” you explained with a light chuckle. “I needed a walk to clear my head. Sometimes calmness is the best companion. Though, I imagine you know a thing or two about that, with all those brothers.”

The Ragnarssons laughed, their light heartiness warming the icy air. You had grown up alongside them in a way; your paths had crossed many times in Kattegat especially the past years, forging a bond that was both familial and unique. The conversation shifted back to their plans, but soon another set of hurried steps approached.

“Ubbe! Bjorn needs us for an urgent discussion,” came Sigurd’s voice. “He hasn’t had much time for us lately, but this is important.”

Hvitserk hesitated, glancing toward you. “Then we’ll go,” he said, “but Ivar, can you stay with Y/N? Just to ensure she doesn’t lose her way back to the town.”

The words stung, though you masked it well. Once again, you were reminded of how others saw you. Not as the capable person you were, but as someone fragile and in need of protection. You knew the paths throughout, and you trusted your senses well enough to not lose track. Though you appreciated their care, it still hurt to be defined by your blindness.

“I’m sorry for being a burden,” you murmured, frustration slipping into your voice.

“That’s my brothers’ foolishness, not yours,” Ivar replied quickly, his tone firm yet kind. “Do you want to walk further? I don’t mind spending time with you. I would not find a place in their discussion anyway.” He was mad about the fact he had been left alone once again, but he didn’t mind that he had the opportunity to be with you alone.

You smiled at his sincerity, warmth spreading through you as he lingered by your side. He understood your struggles in a way few could. You liked that, the way he never asked if you were struggling because of your eyes.

Kneeling down to meet his gaze, you felt his presence. A warmth that contrasted with the chill of the snow. The scent of leather and iron lingered around him. “I wish I could see you, Ivar,” you said softly. “I imagine you look simply human, despite what others say about your legs. Maybe you look like a god. Or perhaps a beast. Or maybe something else entirely.”

Your words spilled out before you could stop them, and the blush rising to your cheeks portrayed your embarrassment. Ivar, however, found your flushed face endearing, a rare vulnerability you shared only with him. A moment which only the two of you shared, which he would take advantage of.

“I wonder the same,” he admitted with a small smile. “Would you like me to guide you? Not to help, but to let you see in your own way.”

Your hand hesitated before reaching out, and his cold fingers enveloped yours with surprising gentleness. He didn’t feel violent but you knew his temper well enough. Up to this point you rarely touched him, perhaps a few times as a kid. Though, this moment was something different - a side of Ivar you haven’t heard of yet.

He guided your hand to his face, resting it lightly against his cheek. His skin was cold, yet the moment felt electric. Your heart fluttered as your fingers traced the contours of his face - his strong jawline, the curve of his lips, the furrow of his brows, the shape of his nose. Ivar guided you, and you followed along with a racing heart.

“Are you sure?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to overstep.”

“I’m sure,” he replied, his grip firm but kind. “I’ve seen you do this with your brothers. It’s how you imagine what we look like, isn’t it?”

You nodded, a smile spreading across your lips. His understanding touched you deeply. As your hands roamed carefully over his features, you noticed yourself savoring the moment.

“So,” he asked, a teasing edge in his voice, “am I a god or a monster?”

“You’re neither,” you said with a quiet laugh, your hands cupping his face. “You’re just human. But a very unique one.”

His eyes softened, though you couldn’t see the admiration in them. In this moment, he felt truly seen, not for his weaknesses, but for his humanity. And for the first time in a long while, so did you.

[writingmeraki]

# PRI'S OUTER BANKS MASTERLIST.

#INDEX

⟨ ✾⟩ : angst. ⟨☆⟩ : crack/humour. ⟨⚘⟩ : fluff. ⟨✦⟩ : romance. ⟨✰⟩ : reader's favourite. ⟨♡⟩ : personal/author's favourite.

✧. ┊OBX ( multi )

none yet !

✧. ┊RAFE CAMERON.

series

ribs | one

In which, you did not think there was a way for you to ever come to love the beach, sea and the annoying sand that never seemed to leave you, but then again you did not think you'd ever meet let alone possibly associate yourself with someone like Rafe Cameron.

( or you hated the beach and all that came with it, but turns out this initially disappointing summer could be changed by the presence of one intriguing person. And the fact that his eyes were probably bluer than the ocean itself. Perhaps you could learn to mildly like it. )

drabbles

patch you right up [ ✾⚘✦]

headcanons

enemy!rafe x older!maybank!sibling [ ✾⚘✦]

✧. ┊JJ MAYBANK.

none yet !

...more characters to come !

» main masterlist ?

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest ( banners made by me :D )

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2023-25

[crushpunky]

kook!reader teaches rafe a lesson

masterlist | kook!reader masterlist

part of @zyafics MRGA campaign <3 warning: rafe is in his typical teenage boy asshole phase in this, but like the title suggest, kook!reader teaches him a lesson. also warning for alcohol/drugs and discussions of sex

It was a picturesque day in the Outer Banks. The sun was high, the water was perfectly clear, and the sky was blue as y/n and the boys floated just off the coast of Kildare in Topper’s yacht. Y/n laid out on the deck, her skin damp and glowy in the unyielding heat as she sipped on whatever alcoholic concoction Kelce had thrown together.

“No, no, that’s what I’m saying.” Topper chuckled as the boys emerged from the cabin. They shoved against each other, drunkenly stumbling along until they collapsed onto the bench that sat across from y/n. Y/n’s eyes pried open as she sat herself up, wincing at the sun. She noticed a fine dusting of powder underneath Rafe’s nose, causing her to quickly prop her sunglasses atop her head and scowl at him.

“What about that, uh… Chelsea? Yeah?” Kelce asked, causing Topper to let out a drunken laugh that nearly caused him to spill his beer over himself and Kelce. Rafe scoffed, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his greasy bangs.

“Yeah, no.” Rafe sighed as he took a cigarette out. He put the cigarette between his lips, carefully lighting it with his “Cameron” engraved lighter before tossing it down on the endtable. Y/n stood with a sigh before crossing the deck and plopping down next to the boys on the bench, her leg draped over Rafe’s as he let out an exhale of smoke.

“But c’mon she had like—” Kelce gestured dramatically— “huge tits.”

Y/n grimaced, taking the cigarette from Rafe’s fingers before popping it between her own lips. The boys talking about girls was a part of their unique relationship that y/n always found a bit hard to navigate. She didn’t want to scoff or say “ew”, but she also wasn’t entirely a fan of how crassly the boys would sometimes speak. Ok, sure, she wasn’t entirely innocent. Yeah, when she and Sarah got drunk they’d talk about their hook ups, but it still felt weird coming from her boys.

“Yeah but she was crazy.” Rafe scoffed. “That bitch was psycho.”

Y/n quirked a brow, glaring harshly at Rafe, but his focus remained on the two boys he was talking with. She knew how teenage boys were, but even so, she wasn’t one to let the boys get too crass with their language and wasn’t afraid to reprimand them.

“What do you mean?” Topper asked, smirking in a way that signalled he knew he was stirring the pot.

“She fuckin, like, wouldn’t stop calling me, texting me, tryna talk with me.” Rafe said, taking the cigarette back from y/n without sparing her a second glance. “Like, I’m just trying to fuck I don’t need you to talk to me.”

Topper and Kelce laughed, taking sips of the drinks drunkenly. Y/n scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest as she shifted uncomfortably on Rafe’s lap. Noticing the seemingly “good” reaction, Rafe smirked before he continued.

“It’s so much better when they have the body but none of the fuckin brains to go with it.” Rafe said.

And y/n had had enough.

“What?!” Y/n shouted, scrambling to her feet to stand in front of the boys. Kelce’s eyes widened and Topper gulped harshly.

“What?” Rafe said, his voice filled with annoyance as he took a long drag of his cigarette before snubbing out.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Y/n snapped, her arms planted on her hips as she gazed furiously down at Rafe.

“I—” Rafe let out a chuckle. “It was just… guy talk it’s not that serious.”

“Not that serious, Rafe?” Y/n scoffed. “You just said you like it better when women have ‘the body but none of the fuckin brains to go with it’, do you even hear how fuckin gross you sound?”

“That’s not— I didn’t mean it like that.” Rafe sighed, running a hand along his jaw. Topper and Kelce glanced between Rafe and y/n as she stood angrily in front of him.

“No?” Y/n said, letting out an exasperated chuckle. “Then what the fuck did you mean by it then, Rafe? ‘Cause it sounded to me— a woman by the way, dumbass— that you prefer when we are stupid and hot.”

“That—” Rafe groaned. “That’s not what I fuckin meant.”

“Then what did you mean, Rafe?” Y/n snapped again, taking a step closer.

“I— Jesus!” Rafe swore. “Why the fuck are you being such a bitch right now—”

Rafe was cut off with a swift slap to the face, his head snapping to the side with a shattering force from y/n’s palm. The boat fell into an eerie silence, Kelce and Topper watching in horror as Rafe slowly turned back to face y/n, his face suddenly stone cold sober.

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that, Rafe Cameron.” Y/n said, her voice sharp as she pointed a finger squarely in his face. Rafe’s bottom lip trembled slightly as he looked back at her.

“After all I have done for you— after all I’ve done for all of you,” y/n snapped, pointing at the two other boys as she spoke in a scarily still tone, “and this is how you fuckin speak to me? How you fuckin speak about girls in general? Are you fucking serious?”

“Y/n—” Kelce stammered, but immediately stopped himself once y/n looked over at him with ferocious eyes.

“I could say so much right now— so fucking much— but I am going to stop myself.” Y/n said cooly, straightening up as she crossed her arms across her chest. “I am going to stop myself because, despite how I feel right now, I respect you guys… I just wish you had the same courtesy for me.”

With one last angry sigh, y/n grabbed the lighter and cigarettes sat on the end table before stalking off towards the cabin. Y/n felt her eyes begin to water as she popped a cigarette into her mouth before she came out the other side, tossing herself down onto the stern with a huff. With a shaky hand, y/n lit the cigarette before taking a long inhale. Her eyes fluttered closed, her heart still pounding as Rafe’s words played over and over again in her head.

She wasn’t sure how long it had been until the sliding glass door behind her opened. The almost empty pack of cigarettes sat next to her as she turned around, her eyes puffy as she looked up at Rafe. His cheek was still red, a stinging reminder of the events of earlier.

“Hey.” Rafe said softly as he hesitantly met y/n’s eyes.

“Hi.” Y/n whispered, turning away from Rafe with a sigh as she gazed out at the setting sun. Rafe quietly stepped forward, slowly taking a seat next to y/n as she remained focused on the view in front of them.

“I, um, I’m sorry.” Rafe said, his voice shaky as he spoke. Y/n’s head turned to look at Rafe, her brow furrowed. She could count on one hand the number of times she’d heard Rafe apologize outright, the words “I’m sorry” leaving his lips. Sure, he’d apologize in other ways, showing up with a coffee, going with her to take Jack on a walk, or even hugging her with a long and sincere exhale of relief, but never saying “I’m sorry” aloud.

“I—” Rafe sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t have said… that about her and I shouldn’t have called you… what I called you. Shouldn’t have talked to you the way I did.”

Y/n’s gaze softened when she noticed the slight glassiness in Rafe’s eyes, his inner turmoil and guilt evident on his face.

“I don’t think of you in that way and I’m sorry I made you think I did.” Rafe whispered, his eyes flicking up to meet y/n’s. Silently, y/n reached over, grabbing one of Rafe’s shaking hands and squeezing it lightly. Rafe's shoulders softened, a trembling exhale coming out of his lungs.

“I… forgive you, Rafe,” Y/n said quietly, nodding, “but you have to do better.”

Rafe swallowed harshly as he gazed back at her, his lips slightly parted as he listened to her speak.

“When you say shit like that…” Y/n sighed. “It’s not just me you’re disrespecting, it’s everybody. Your sisters, your friends, your… mother.”

Rafe’s eyes fluttered closed at the mention of his mother, a new wave of guilt seemingly washing over him.

“I… love you, Rafe, I really do, so I know this isn’t you.” Y/n said. “I just need you to show me that you’re willing to be better.”

Rafe nodded quietly, swallowing harshly as he opened his eyes to meet her own.

“Ok.” Rafe whispered. “I’m sorry and I will do better. I promise.”

A smile spread slowly across y/n’s lips before she scooted closer to Rafe, their shoulders touching. Rafe bit at his lips as y/n looked at him closer, a finger going to brush against his cheek.

“I’m sorry.” Y/n frowned at the red marks on his skin, to which Rafe let out a scoff and shook his head.

“I deserved it.” Rafe said, looking over at y/n with a guilty smile. Y/n’s smile widened before she bit her lip, trying to suppress it.

“Yeah, you did.” Y/n said before letting out a giggle. Rafe shook his head, letting out a chuckle as he looked over at her. Y/n elbowed his side playfully before she rested her head on his shoulder, a trust between them that they’d always respect each other and strive to be better.

taglist: @ladyatwalmart @lilfreakjez @starkeyslutzz @maiya-16 @neonuserlforce

[bluemerakis]

─────────── ᝰ bluemerakis ༝༚༝༚ ──

pairing ୨୧ firefighter .ᐟ jason todd x er nurse .ᐟ reader

warnings .ᐟ just literal fluff, implications of smut

synopsis ─ jason is determined to celebrate his birthday girl with an entire day formulated just for her.

word count ~ 2.1k

fic concept directly inspired by bree’s firefighter ! jason todd x er nurse ! reader works!

──────────────────────

The bustling cityscape blurs by in a blink as the firefighter truck effortlessly clears a path through the afternoon traffic. Navigating the city at peak hour usually never comes this easy, but it helps that Jason has flicked on the vehicle’s warning bells that announce your presence like a life-or-death situation. And when you’ve got the law forming the backbone of your urgent presence, it’s easy to manipulate any traffic to your will.

In all honestly, he’s playing foul—using his powers for the evil that is getting his way. After all, this is Jason’s day off. He has no business sporting the emblem of his career for something as silly as a surprise joyride with an ordinary citizen like you claiming shotgun. Jason would argue that your station as a nurse earns you every right to warm this seat—outside of being his passenger princess, of course. So, who are you to resist?

If he were anybody other than the man you so dearly loved, you’d have cashed in on your temper to ridicule this little power stunt that granted him free-flow traffic through the jam-packed city. But because he was your man—attempting to spoil his woman on her big day—you’d grace him with a break. Maybe, just for today, you’d bathe in the perks of being the birthday girl. And maybe, you’d pocket this instance for another day that called for reinforcement if you’re ever caught in a petty quarrel that’s tilting his way.

Your cheek is nestled in one palm as you gaze through the truck’s passenger window, eyes tracking the various cars that teeter down below and pull off to the side in organised sequence as the sirens roll up on them. Then, within seconds, they clear a path that makes you feel like esteemed royalty—and it certainly helps that the truck’s tall enough to loom them over like you’re a queen addressing her lesser subjects.

And just for today, you are royalty. Or, at least, Jason thinks so. Because you’re not just the birthday girl—you’re his birthday girl, and he’ll be damned if you get anything short of perfect on this day that marks another year of your existence.

He’d started you off with a breakfast in bed—bacon and eggs prepped just the way you like them with bagels, cream and jam to round off the sweet-savoury experience. Entirely handmade with love, and far too much satisfaction that he’d manage to conjure up such a tasteful meal. Shortly after, you’d both taken your dog for a relaxing morning walk around the block, making a pit stop at the mobile coffee shop on the corner for a drink—he’d paid, of course.

Upon coming home, he’d practically herded you into the car. It wasn’t exactly your day off, but Jason had insisted that you deserve it—and hadn’t given you any room to wiggle out of it, either. Not that you minded. A break from a job as taxing as yours would never go unappreciated, and Jason was the one that had made the call and spared you from the potential discourse on the other end of the line. Out of sight—or hearing, in this case—out of mind.

He’d driven you both over to the station to slip directly into one of the fire trucks, adamant on keeping his personal, little adventure a secret regardless of how much you pried. And you did. But the only detail he’d let slip is that you’d enjoy what he had in stock for you, which did nothing to ease the curiosity within. And honestly, any time spent with him was always enjoyable.

Now, you’ve been on the road for a little less than ten minutes, courtesy of the truck sirens that blare overhead. The noise starts to get old after a while, and your ears seem to ring in agreement. You’d have thought that after years of working as a nurse, the blaring tune would become as natural as any other ER noise, but the urgency behind it’s existence would never allow any inch of you to settle.

“You know, you didn’t have to pull out the big ol’ fire truck for this,” you remark lightly, the air-conditioner nipping at the flush skin of your cheek as you lose your hand’s support to glance over at the firefighter.

Jason’s eyes are forward-turned, burning holes through the windshield as he navigates the newly-formed pathway. “Didn’t have to,” he agrees, cheeks rounding with a smug grin. “But I did—and I’d say it’s payin’ off pretty well.” His attention briefly flickers down to the GPS mounted on the dash before it shifts to sneak a peek of you. “And judging by the fact that we’re only five minutes away from Narnia, I’d say that the GPS over here shares the sentiment.”

You utter a light-hearted scoff, lips spreading with a grin to match his. “Wow. Narnia, huh? You’re pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you? That this li’l surprise of yours is going to blow my mind.”

His broad shoulders roll in an overly-innocent shrug as he turns his attention forward once more. “Let’s just say I got a pretty good hunch that you’ll, at the very least, love me slightly more by the end o’ this day,” he claims smoothly, lower lip taken into a brief bite as he entertains some silent, amusing thought. And you don’t have to ask him to enlighten you as he close-captions it only a second later. “And that somethin’s gettin’ blown tonight,” he adds without meeting your stare.

Oh, you dirty li’l skank, is what you’re tempted to say. But as your eyes lower down the figure clad in a black shirt that compresses his toned figure, and a loose-fitted pair of trousers that somehow cling to his thighs just enough to accentuate his bulge, you’re not sure you can so easily deny the request. Bold declaration, more like. Even if this is your special day.

So instead, the corner of your lips hitch with a newfound daringness as you say, “play your cards right, and I might just be feeling generous enough to show you a time you might not survive, fireman.”

Jason flashes you a glance that’s packed with silent schemes. “Careful, nurse,” he chuckles through an eager smile. “You’re treading a thin line o’ medical ethics with a promise like that.“

“Oh, like you’re the poster-boy of ethics when you’re lugging around the firetruck just to avoid traffic on your off-day,” you snipe playfully, hands coming up in a self-satisfied cross.

His lips purse with consideration before his head cocks in concession. “Touché,” he yields through a smirk that admits he’s been bested. “So, what do I gotta do to get such a selfless gift on your birthday?”

You turn your attention forward, eyes narrowing thoughtfully—and beaming a little too brightly with the newfound sense of power that being the birthday girl seems to warrant. “Step on that gas, get us to wherever we’re going, and the gift’ll be all the more closer to unwrapping,” you instruct cheekily.

Jason huffs softly before his hand leaves the wheel to brush over your thigh, pulling your attention back to him. “Yes, ma’am,” he says with a quick glance, fingers kneading lightly at the fabric of your dress before they desert you to wrap around the gear with fervour. There, he shifts one down, and the truck growls with an enthusiasm that mirrors his own demeanour before he sends the both of you down the streets.

It’s not long before he turns one corner, and then the next, before he pulls up into a fairly quiet lot that overlooks a glistening lake. You’re instantly taken aback by the view, head craning forward as you drink in the scenery through the winding windshield of the fire truck.

Luscious grass spans the entirety of the lake’s bank, and scattered amongst the field of green, looming trees sway under the light breeze while thickets of dew-kissed flowers twinkle under the sun’s glare. Awe has you by the throat as you squint through the windscreen, and you manage to make out a line of ducklings that wade through the water in pursuit of their mother—who’s otherwise oblivious to their presence as she repeatedly delves into the water.

“Oh my god,” you breathe softly, shy tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you reach to lean your arms onto the dashboard. “It’s so beautiful here.”

“Might as well be our own Narnia, yeah?” Jason laughs quietly, hand coming up to graze a soothing line along your back. “I drove past this place once when on a call, and I just knew it’s somethin’ you’d appreciate over a bottle o’ your favourite wine,” he adds almost proudly—like he knows he’s done a good job of surprising you.

And, truthfully, he has. And you adore him for it.

“We can’t go any nearer than the lot, unfortunately—place is protected property,” he adds regretfully. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t sit right here, crack open the windows, and enjoy the view with your favourite snack of this century.”

Your head snaps toward him with a comical speed, eyes blown wide with an enthusiasm to match. “Jason, did you pack what I think you did?” You test carefully, hopefully—like the fate of the rest of the day depends on this mere answer. And it does.

Jason brims with amusement and confidence alike, which does everything to nurture the butterfly of hope that flutters around your stomach. “Mhm, baby,” he confirms proudly. “And not only did I pack a generous amount o’ uncrustables, but I’d like to think I’m packin’ elsewhere, too,” he adds wryly, and he doesn’t even have to saturate the innuendo with a wink before you’re rolling your eyes in defeat. “I’m just messing with ya,” he chuckles, hand shifting to cup your chin in a pinch before returning to your back.

“Yes, and no,” you respond with a cheek to match his, which has Jason shaking his head lightly, proudly.

“God, I love you,” he declares huskily, his gaze softening with profound adoration as he drinks the view of you in. The hand on your back lingers for a few seconds longer, the warmth imbued in his touch combining with your own body heat like a magnetic field always destined to mingle. “I hope you know that these planned moments are not a rare occurrence; you’ll be getting days like these until we’re old and grey because you deserve that much. You deserve more, and I’m gonna give you all that I have, baby—all that I am. Happy birthday.”

You drink in his words with a soft smile, your heart throbbing beneath the weight of it all. “Happy birthday to me, indeed,” you reiterate in a whisper, overcome with a sentimentality that leaves you unable to utter anything more.

You lean yourself off the dashboard, Jason’s hand shifting from your back to graze a light trail down your arm, instead. You grasp his hand into your own, and the physical union settles into the space between you for only a few seconds before he lifts your hand to his lips. There, he places a firm kiss atop your knuckles, fixing you with a loving stare that filters through his lashes before he releases you once more.

“Hold onto that while I go and fetch us the basket,” he says sweetly, hand moving to flick at the button that rolls both your windows down before his door clicks to bid his temporary farewell. But your hand flies across the space to grab him at the sleeve, stilling him in his seat.

“Wait,” you tell him, and Jason turns to face you with light curiosity woven through his handsome features. You lean yourself into his vicinity to place a chaste kiss on his lips, which he returns with a passion that soils the innocence of it all. And when you pull back, he gazes down at you like you’ve robbed him of all urgency in this world. Like nothing else could possibly matter in this very moment.

“I hope you know that I am incredibly happy right now,” you breathe into your shared space, your heart throbbing in solidarity with a pain that only love can elicit, and simultaneously heal. You briefly turn your eyes back to the glorified view beyond windshield before glancing back over at Jason, your lips softening with a broad smile. “I love this place. I love this day. And I love you,” you say—almost murmur, but Jason catches it, anyway because he never could let a damn thing about you slide.

As Jason fixes you with a soulful gaze, he realises that he’s nobody special—not rich and not entirely successful in life. But being here with you? Being able to call himself yours? That mere fact already means he’s won the lottery. That he’s as accomplished as he’ll ever need to be.

You consume him in ways that mock the might of raging wildfires, and it’s not something he could ever quench—not with time, not with reinforcement, and not even by deepest desire. Because there’s nothing he craves more than the destructive force of loving you.

With your every, ignited touch, he’d let you brand him beyond any recognition of self because the was nothing about him worth remembering other than the promise that he was all yours.

And he’d let himself burn to embers if it meant that his last memory was loving you.

──────────────────────

a/n ─ happiest of birthdays to sweet bree @titsout4jackles 💌 this is my tiny (and late 😔) gift to u. it’s not much, but please take it as a token of my deepest love. i love you so bad and you deserve everything you want in life and more. you’re such a blessing to this world and everybody within in. i love any and all of our convos and i appreciate that you’re someone i can spew bullshit to and you’re always there to reciprocate the dumb-assery. never stop being the absolute icon that you are. MWAH. also, to be frank 👨‍🦳, idk shit about jason todd so if this entire thing is ooc, OOPSIE AND OH WELL❗️❓

© bluemerakis ─ do not plagiarise or steal any of my works.

[babydollmarauders]

1 + 2 = “NOT AGAIN!”

part of the el!hughes au

summary: in which jack and y/n (lovie) are pretty happy, but are even happier by the end of the day.

my fingers tremble as the back of my knuckles graze over the soft and supple skin on the cheek of my three month old, whom rests in his bassinet.

“what are you three doing today?” my husband lounges on the bed, his own hand sprawled on my sweatpants clad thigh; while i sit on the edge of the bed beside him.

“i think your mom is planning on taking El out to the water,” i reply, voice soft as i stare at our son, “and Leo and i are gonna go shopping.”

“shopping?” Jack inquires. the linen sheet falls down his toned stomach as he sits up to look at Elio in his bassinet, whose eyes crinkle when he sees his father.

“yeah, i need new clothes. don’t i? yes, i do. yes, i do.” my tone is squeaky and high pitched as i direct my sentences toward my baby.

the bedroom door squeaks as tiny toddler feet slap against the floor, running into the room and clambering up onto the bed.

“daddy! uncle winny ‘time to go!’” El stitches together through labored breaths, her chubby cheeks red from the exertion of running.

“uncle quinny says it’s time to go?” Jack deciphers her words, pulling the two year old into his lap as she tries to peer into the bassinet.

“mhm!” she hums, much too distracted by the baby that has scrunched his body up and opened his mouth into a yawn.

setting our daughter aside, Jack rises from the bed, hissing when i poke at a bruise on his hip as he stretches out his limbs.

he received that particular bruise as he was tending to Eleanor last night; running into her dresser as he navigated the darkness of her room after she woke up from a bad dream.

“lovie,” he grunts, batting my hand away and stepping back, “how would you like it if i poked your bruises?”

jaw dropping in disbelief, i scoff, “you do! all the time!”

a mischievous smirk spreads across his lips, accompanied by a chuckle, “i know.”

i scoot up the bed, El clambering into my lap and resting her head on my shoulder as i watch Jack bound around the room. from the closet, to the dresser, to the en-suite, and back to the dresser, until he’s dressed and ready to head off to the rink for training.

walking back to the bed, he dips down to peck a kiss to the top of El’s head before pressing his lips to mine in a goodbye kiss. when he pulls away, he turns and leans down even farther in order to kiss Elio’s chubby cheek.

“call me if you need anything,” he speaks, gathering his gear bag off the top of the dresser, “i love you, girls.”

“and you too, Leo!” he hastily adds as he leaves the room, just in time for his brother to call from the bottom of the lake house steps.

“Jack! let’s go!”

“i’m coming!”

**

a smile twists at my lips as i watch my toddler cuddle up to her grandmother, her eyes trained on the princess movie that plays on the living room tv.

“hey momma,” i start, catching Ellen’s attention as i pass by the couch, “i’m heading to put Elio down for nap.”

“okay, honey.” my husband’s mother nods, “i’ve got Eleanor, why don’t you go ahead and take a nap too?”

“yeah, maybe.” i shrug, “thank you.”

with the three month old in my arms, i climb the stairs, turning into Jack and i’s room at the top of the steps.

in a post-feed haze, Elio’s eyes are struggling to stay open and alert, rather crossing and fluttering shut before he pries them back open. the sight makes me smile softly, gently transferring him to the bassinet by the bed. almost immediately, his eyes fall shut and tiny little snores fill the air as he finally drifts to sleep.

i sit on the edge of the bed, admiring the infant in his little blue onesie as his fingers twitch in his sleep. and in a motherhood haze, i quickly lose track of how long i’ve sat, just watching him sleep.

“you get the snoring from your father.” i whisper, a loving gaze in my eyes as i scan his face.

“he does not! you snore like a freight train!” i hear from the doorway, my head snapping up to look behind me and finding Jack stalking into the room; closing the door behind him.

“okay, we both snore.” i concede, watching as my husband sets his gear bag back in place upon the dresser and strips down to get in the shower, “but i do not sound like a train!”

“no, you’re right.” he remarks, “you sound more like a helicopter.”

“i do not! i snore like the delicate angel that i am.”

“angel? yes. but snorer? also, yes.” Jack chuckles.

“we get it, i snore.” i huff, “how was training?”

“it was fine. i just need a shower and a nap now.”

i suppose he should enjoy naps while he can. it’s easy enough for him to have one right now.

“did you go shopping?” he asks, disappearing into the en-suite before i hear the shower water turn on.

“yeah! lemme show you what i got!” i leap from the bed, swiping the shopping bags off the floor by the bedroom door.

“shower fashion show.” my husband states, “i’m sweaty and i’m not about to listen to you complain about how bad i smell.”

“good idea.”

he hops in the shower as i bring the bags into the bathroom, dumping the contents upon the counter. and for the next fifteen minutes, i’m in a flurry of quick changes and listening to his comments of ‘oooh’ and ‘i like that’ and ‘you look so good in that, lovie’.

“use my conditioner.” i tell him as i step into a new article of clothing, “your hair is getting dry from the lake water and the sun.”

“copy that.” he calls out, and i turn around just in time to see him squirt a dollop of my expensive conditioner into his palm.

“okay, last outfit!” i announce, and he turns his head to look at me as i twirl.

“that’s pretty.” he comments amidst rinsing the product from his hair.

“hey, babe?” i study myself in the mirror as i speak, turning to the side. my heart races, and i’m fairly certain i can feel it knocking around against my ribcage as Jack hums in acknowledgement as he turns off the water, “does this skirt make me look pregnant?”

i watch his reflection in the mirror as he steps out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist as he studies my figure.

his brows furrow, face pinching in confusion as he analyzes my stomach; a small tummy left over from Elio’s birth nearly four months ago, “no?”

“‘cause i am.”

his entire body goes rigid in the mirror, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

“say that again?” he chokes out, and i finally turn to face him as an anxiety ridden smile plays at my lips, tears gathering in my eyes.

“i’m pregnant.” i repeat, “again.”

Jack steps forward, wet hands plastering to my hips as his eyes dart between my stomach and my face.

“you’re sure?” he questions, receiving a nod in reply, “but we’ve only- the once- and i-”

“the once is all it took,” i shrug, resisting the urge to gnaw at my lip in worry, “i went to the doctor today before i went shopping, just to confirm what the test said a few days ago…. i’m 10 weeks.”

“three kids,” he breathes out, “oh lovie, how are we gonna do this?”

“with a lot of help from your parents and luke?” i tell him, but it comes out as more of a question than a statement. “how are you feeling?”

he blinks a few times before finally looking me in the eyes, pulling me flush to his dripping chest, “happy? scared? excited.”

“yeah?” my smile widens into a grin as his forehead drops against mine.

“yeah,” he reiterates, “we’re having another baby.”

Jack grins, his hands snaking down my hips until he reaches the crease between my ass and my upper thighs. lifting me up, my legs wrap around his waist as his lips crash against mine.

he steps forward until my ass rests on the counter, his lips trailing away to leave open mouthed kisses down my neck.

my breathing picks up, my heart pounding as my fingers sneak into the hem of the towel around his waist.

it’s at that moment that a faint cry echoes into the bathroom, alerting us that Elio has awoken.

“better get used to that, stud,” i laugh as Jack pulls away, a whine escaping his lips as he throws his head back in complaint, “because we’re gonna be getting interrupted a whole lot for the next eighteen years.”

**

“hey, Quinny,” i call out from the living room couch as he stands from his seat, glancing over as he hears my voice, “are you going upstairs?”

“i wasn’t planning on it, but i can?”

“can you grab Elio’s pacifier? there should be one in his bassinet, but if not then there’s some in my nightstand.”

“yeah, be right back.” Quinn jogs up the stairs, waving his hand up in acknowledgment when i call out a thank you.

the entire household is lounging in the living room, a child friendly movie playing on the tv. Trevor, Cole, and Luke build an intricate castle out of blocks with El, whilst Jim and Ellen sit on the other side of the couch, with Jack sitting beside me, and Alex sitting in an arm chair. Adam, Luca, Mark, Ethan, and Dylan all sit in chairs that they pulled in from the dining area, laughing at the sight of their friend taking building blocks with his niece very seriously.

“Trevor, stop. if you put that block there, it’s gonna fall!” Luke huffs, knocking the red block out of Trevor’s hand and onto the floor.

“you’re gonna teach baby Hughes bad things! stop hitting!” Trevor argues, making Cole roll his eyes as he continues building another wall of the already ginormous castle with El.

“your uncles are silly,” Cole tells El, tone serious and no baby voice in sight, “we don’t argue, do we? you and i, we make a good team.”

“she’s two, of course you get along with her!” Trevor grunts, “but if you were paired with mr. hot hands over here, you’d argue too!”

“i’m only hitting you because you won’t listen!”

the entire living room full of people is practically teeming with laughter at the scene on the floor.

“WHAT THE HELL!”

everyone freezes, the room falling silent as we all turn to watch Quinn bound down the steps.

his face is paler than usual, his eyes wild as he glares at my husband. my eyes dart around, scanning his stiff form. my body tenses as i see what’s clutched in his hand; the ultrasound photos from my doctors appointment just this afternoon.

i forgot i stuck them in my nightstand drawer. fuck.

holding them up, he glares at his brother, “NOT AGAIN!”

“hey! it takes two!” Jack pawns our small son off to Ellen, leaping from the couch and holding his hands out in front of him in attempt to placate his older brother.

“you really cant keep your hands to yourself, can you?” Quinn gruffs, “that’s practically my little sister! the poor girl can’t catch a break!”

“she’s my wife! and that night was her idea!” my cheeks flush as he announces our escapades to the room of our friends and family, “how were we supposed to know that would happen?!”

“well you’ve already had two! i think you should know by now how it works!” Quinn hisses.

“okay, can we just calm down?!” i snap, standing from my seat and facing Quinn.

“you two should be using protection,” Alex mutters from his seat. shaking his head, he looks over at Trevor and Cole, “i swear she gets pregnant every time he breathes on her.”

“shut up,” Jack growls, glaring at his best friends as they all snicker.

“you’re pregnant?!” Ellen shrieks, making Elio twitch in her arms. she looks down at the bundle in her arms, her voice softening “oh sorry, sweetheart.”

“we weren’t planning on telling anyone yet.” Jack sneers, eyes glaring daggers at Quinn.

“but yes,” i smile, looking around the room as i begin rubbing my husband’s shoulder in attempt to calm him, “we’re having another baby.”

“the last one for awhile, i hope?” Trevor questions, an eyebrow raised, but he cowers when i glare at him, “what?! the rest of us can’t keep up!”

“the last one ever.” Jack announces. “we’re not planning on having anymore. we decided a long time ago that we’re a ‘three and done’ kind of family.”

“yeah, alright.” Luke scoffs, “we’ll see how that goes.”

“can’t we all just be happy?!”

everyone’s eyes dart to me as i stomp my foot, tears welling in my eyes as i begin to feel overwhelmed with all the chaos and panic that’s filled the room.

“Jack and i are happy. we’re having another baby. that’s that! there’s no more discussion to be had!” i cross my arms over my chest.

suddenly feeling very immature for my outburst, i plant myself back onto the couch, taking my baby back from Ellen and focusing on his sweet little face to calm myself.

the room is still silent, everyone still staring at me as Jack lowers himself back down onto the couch beside me.

“hey,” he coos, “it’s okay. i’m sure they’re all very happy for us. right, guys?”

a chorus of ‘yeah!’s and ‘congratulations!’ fills the air, and my body relaxes into Jack’s embrace.

“i’m sorry, i overreacted,” Quinn sighs, crouching down beside the couch in order to look into my eyes. his hand splays across my knee, “you guys make some pretty cute kids, i can’t wait to meet the next little one.”

“yeah?” i murmur, looking at my brother-in-law.

“yeah. i just got a bit scared because you just had Elio and i’m worried for your health.” he explains, “but i promise that i am happy for you guys.”

“please don’t worry, Q,” i tell him, “my doctor says it’s completely okay and that i’m healthy. there’s nothing to worry about.”

“okay. as long as your doctor says you’re good.” he amends, and i nod.

“well i’m not good!” Jack huffs, “i’d like an apology!”

Quinn rolls his eyes, “i’m sorry, Jack.”

“not forgiven.”

“are you sure you want another baby with him? he’s acting like a child.” Luke remarks.

looking over at Jack, i smile as he grins innocently at me, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing the top of Elio’s head.

“yeah, i’m sure.”

[evenyvn]

Full of Love

himeko, welt, pom-pom x gn!reader [platonic]

summary : people always say you're so full of love, especially for the astral express family.

cw : gn!reader, sfw, fluff, found family troupe, reader is a nameless, mention of ptsd, reader have bad past before joining astral express, word vomit tbh.

i really adore astral express family, they're my roman empire. i might write for the trailblazer trio + sunday after this. also fyi i rarely write for platonic relationship so please don't expect me to write more platonic stuff 🙏

masterlist

Many people say that you're a person full of love, especially for the Astral Express family. And you never deny it—because they're not wrong. The Express has been your haven, your safe place, a place you call home.

Before you boarded the Express, life had always been hard on your 'home' planet. In fact, you're not even sure if you could call that hellhole of a place a home. Not once did you feel safe since the day you were born.

But now, that's all in the past. You've healed, you've made peace with yourself and your past, and all you can do is share your love with the other crew members.

Starting with Himeko. The red haired navigator has been your savior—since the day she welcomed you with open arms, guided you out of your darkest times, and became the first person you could truly trust.

Her gentle smile makes your heart flutter with happiness that you couldn't explain. Her presence makes you feel safe. She always stands by your side, supporting your decisions with an open mind.

You're always grateful for her, and you can tell she's grateful for you too.

"You're a blessing that not even an Aeon can give,"

She once said on a night when your body trembled from the weight of nightmares from the past. She held you in her arms, her hands running soothingly along your back as she whispered soft words of comfort. She handled you with pure kindness—never she treats you like you were some kind of a scared animal, but as an equal. She treated you like a human being.

People always say you're full of love for Himeko, and it's true. Every morning, you never failed to brew her a cup of coffee just the way she likes it, even if her preferences were odd, even if you dislike the strong smell of the coffee beans. You do it for her. And every time, she never failed to send you a grateful smile and a few words of praise as she takes a sip. You wouldn't trade the world for the smile she gives you.

You're always full of love for Welt, the man who mysteriously boarded the Express one day. At first, you were skeptical of him. Before he arrived, it had always been just you, Himeko, and Pom-Pom. Your skepticism were justified, and Welt never took offense.

He was patient. He earned your trust slowly but surely.

At night when the nightmares became too much to bear, when sleep felt impossible, you'd wander the halls of the Express. Some nights, you didn't have the heart to wake Himeko, even though you knew she wouldn't mind comforting you like always.

You'd drift through the dimly lit corridors before finding yourself in the Parlor Car. There, you’d often spot Welt, sitting on the red couch in front of one of the tables. He would acknowledge your presence with a small glance before a slight smile pulled at his lips.

"Having trouble sleeping too?"

He never pried, never forced you to talk. He simply welcomed you to sit beside him, allowing you both to exist in silence as you gazed at the endless stars through the glass panels. And so, your little habit began.

Some nights, when neither of you could sleep, you'd sit together in comfortable silence. Other nights, one of you would open up, little by little. Welt would tell you stories of his late home, and in return, you'd share yours. It became a quiet, unspoken secret between the two of you.

People say you're full of love for Welt, and it’s evident in the way you'll sketch countless pictures of his characters from the animations he’s shown you before.

In fact, he's the one who taught you how to draw, sharing his little joys with you as you eagerly followed his lessons. You'll proudly show him your sketches, even when the lines were wobbly and imperfect. But no matter what, he always praises you.

His little smile says it all. He’s proud of you and it's evident in the way he secretly pins your sketches above his monitor. so he can look at them fondly while he animates.

You're full of love for Pom-Pom too.

The fluffy conductor’s constant scolding has become one of your favorite things. It might sound odd, but you find comfort in their slightly agitated voice whenever they reprimand you for forgetting your cleaning duties. Your punishment is always the same—scrubbing down the entire Express for the day.

"Pom-Pom is only doing this because Pom-Pom is worried about you!"

Yet, at the end of the day, when you're exhausted and wiping the sweat off your forehead, you always find a plate of your favorite food waiting for you in your room. When you ask Pom-Pom about it, they avoid eye contact, flustered, before lying and running away.

Everyone on the Express knows the truth—Pom-Pom has a soft spot for you. And you have a soft spot for them too. It's an open secret that you're their favorite passenger, even if they deny it every time.

You will always be full of love for the Astral Express, your family.

And you will never stop giving them your love.

divider by @.adornedwithlight | likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated ♡