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sundives · 10 days ago

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Decode ✶ psh.

Learning from you that I can walk away, too.

Summary: You're the textbook definition of the perfect daughter. With everything laid out to you, the only thing you should do is follow the footsteps of your parents and become a doctor. If not, marry a soon-to-be doctor and be the perfect wife for him.

Easily, you can do both. Despite being a college student, you are already arranged to marry Park Sunghoon, the son of your parents' business partner. While you're doing everything to tie him to your perfect life, Sunghoon is very much determined to ran away from it, chasing after a dream of passion which you could never understand.

✰ Song inspiration: Decode by Sabrina Carpenter, Autumn by Niki, Already Over by Sabrina Carpenter

✰ Word Count: 23.9k (what the hell sure.)

✰ Tags: Arranged marriage, angst!!, a bit of unrequited love, hurt a little bit of comfort, lots of lots of miscommunication (these two can’t communicate ffs), angst with happy ending ig, short fluff, smut! College setting, reader is a perfectionist and soooo stubborn, Park Sunghoon is a mess, he’s also in a band. Mentions of drinking and alcohol, and mild violence. Toxic relationships, so much drama, Wonyoung and Ningning as your best friends, mentions of enhypen members, fancy dinners and shits, lots of cursing lmao.

✰ CW: smut! Plot with little porn, loss of virginity (both of them are virgins lmao but they kinda know what to do though, don’t ask how), extremely soft vanilla sex!! P in v sex, short mutual masturbation, fingering, mentions of blood, use of condom (!!!), praise, big dick! Sunghoon, aftercare. I might have forgotten some but yeah, shitty smut hope you enjoy nonetheless.

✰ Asul’s note: okay med students don’t come to me, I know that you need to pass a board exam before attending med school, or not, i think that’s based on your undergraduate program sdkfkjddfk. (I base it on my country lmao) so inaccuracies about becoming a doctor might be present here, so now, I am apologizing for the inaccuracies. (anyways, this is a fanfic guys, let it slide.) This is also not proofread lmao.

Anyways, this is the second installment for Arcanum series yay! you guys loved Jay's fic that I decided to write for the other members. :D hope you enjoy this one. <3

Read Jay's fic here.

✰ Taglist: @kiikiisblog @bussolares @semi-wife @starry-eyed-bimbo @sievenderz @jakeslvt

You have a routine.

By six in the morning, regardless if you have class that day, you’ll be awake. You start your day by taking a 5km walk in the community plaza in your subdivision, wherein the sun has already risen but not enough for you to feel hot.

You should also be home by seven in the morning, wherein you do your morning routine like taking a bath, cooking breakfast, and maybe spare thirty minutes to read the book on your reading list before driving off to Decelis University. If you don’t have any classes that day, you’ll spend the day advance reading your subjects.

Everything in your life has always been like that. Having a routine keeps you organized, calms your mind and keeps your body circling everyday — leaving no room for mistakes, because making mistakes for you isn’t an ideal thing to do.

You’re the only child of your family. You grew up with loving parents who showered you with love and everything that you want. Spoiled but not rotten, everything wasn’t given to you in a snap. They always taught you that everything they give to you, should be repaired. Hence, you grew up with expectations given to you, and you have every determination not to fail your parents.

That’s why you’re studying medical biology, following the footsteps of your father who owns the biggest medical center in your city. Ever since your father exposed you to his work, your dream has been to become a doctor like him, and they were happy that you’re following their path.

While they are anticipating for you to become a doctor, your parents didn’t hesitate to give you a second option — a doctor’s wife like your mother. Someone who tends to their husband, becoming a housewife or trophy wife who spends their husband’s money with no problem, your mother would always joke.

Coincidentally, your parents didn’t even let you choose between the options because easily, you can have both. While your ring finger remains empty, you know you’re bound to be married to someone by the time you graduate college.

“Sunghoon,” you called out, shaking the boy’s shoulder. You were given a short groan as Sunghoon turned sideways and covered his head with the blanket.

“Sunghoon, wake up! We have class at ten!” you shouted, pulling the blanket once again. It didn’t take a minute for Sunghoon to sit up with a loud groan escaping his lips.

“y/n, it’s only eight in the morning, you can go to Decelis if you want to, but let me fucking rest for another hour,” he said mindlessly, eyes still close.

“You’ll skip class again because you overslept,” you pointed out. “Are you still drunk?”

“I have a hangover, thanks for asking,” Sunghoon replied sarcastically. “Also, why do you care if I skip class for today? It’s just a minor subject for fuck’s sake, just go.”

“Make sure you go to Decelis today,” you reminded before leaving his room. Sunghoon didn’t even bother replying to you, he only lay down in his bed once again and dozed off, which only made you heave a sigh.

You’ve known Park Sunghoon ever since you two were kids. You remember the first time you two met, at his father’s birthday, wherein he played the piano for the audience. You watched as he effortlessly played a song you’re unfamiliar with. Eyes locked at him, it was the first time you felt that rush of in your heart, cheeks heating up as you admired him from where you were standing.

Ever since that day, you wanted to marry Sunghoon. His parents own the largest pharmaceutical company in your district which means that he’s bound to inherit his parents’ business. You think that it was destiny. If you two were to get married, your parents’ businesses would merge and you envision yourself as a doctor along with Sunghoon.

It was as if the perfect life had been given to you. While you never formally requested to your parents that you wanted to marry Sunghoon, they pretty much set you two up. You grew up with Sunghoon, played and studied with him, and went to the same school together.

He was your best friend. Although the lingering crush inside you still gives you butterflies every time you’re with Sunghoon, your platonic love for him still outweighs. You two passed Decelis University together, but before you two entered college, the formal arrangement between the two of you was held in a private dinner — completely shattering your relationship with him.

From there, everything changed, the wariness that you two will get married after graduation lingers, and the fact that you two were forced to live in a house together, alone, made it more awkward for the two of you.

Both your parents insisted that it’s for you two to prepare for your marriage. At first, it was hard to adjust, having small talks and walking on eggshells during the first few months despite you two growing up together. But slowly, you two had become well-adjusted with each other.

Going to Decelis together, study dates, and senseless conversations after dinner happened because not only you two live together, you two are also classmates. You two became well-known in your department. With your family’s background and reputation, everyone knows that you two are engaged to each other, and by the end of your freshman year, you two were considered as the medical sciences department’s “power couple.”

Although you two had adjusted well, the two of you knew that what you had were only platonic, two best friends who live together under the same roof, ignoring the future that awaits for both of you.

But when sophomore year came, Sunghoon formed a band along with some friends and a junior of his, and they named it, “Arcanum,” and ever since that day, Sunghoon was no longer the Sunghoon that you knew.

You always thought that his talent for piano will only be a talent of his, but you didn’t expect it to become a passion that he will come chasing after. Ever since Arcanum happened, the sound of his keyboard can be heard all over your house, and instead of medical books and notes from your subjects being on his table, it has become lyrical sheets and chords that only Sunghoon can read.

While Sunghoon still excels in class and passes his subjects with ease, it’s not hard to ignore that his college program isn’t his priority anymore. You found yourself alone in your house every night, Sunghoon separating from you by the end of the class because he has a gig or band practice. Sometimes he goes home drunk, and you’re wondering why the hell he is letting himself get drunk despite his low alcohol tolerance.

You know that it’ll get worse if he continues doing it. You tried to talk him out of it but Sunghoon got angry with you instead, lashing out that why can’t you just support his passion instead. It was the first time he ever got angry with you and yet, it fueled something in you, the way he looked at you that night, you’re convinced that he’s not the Sunghoon that you know — which persisted you more to make him go back to the way he was.

You tried. Everyday, you tried to make sure he goes to his class, waking him up and checking up on him became part of your routine. But it all seems useless because the more you pick up Sunghoon’s mess, the more he becomes annoyed at you. It became something you two always fought about, slowly you two didn’t realise that you two had drifted apart.

“Class dismissed,” the professor announced. You could only close your notebook as you shake your head with disappointment.

Sunghoon didn’t show up, he’s probably in his room, still asleep. You hated how he didn’t show up, and all of it is because of a hangover from yesterday’s gig. You always told him that he shouldn’t drink during school days but it’s Sunghoon, he never listens to you.

As you grabbed your things and placed them in your bag, your professor called you out suddenly, which made you head towards him.

“Yes sir?” you asked.

“It’s about Sunghoon,” he started, your eyes widened but you only nodded, it wasn’t a surprise to you that your professors go to you if there’s any concerns regarding your fiance.

“He might as well drop my subject because he’s already failing,” your professor explained.

“What?” you asked, almost stumbling on your own tongue.

“He’s been absent for the past few weeks, and you know that attendance is still a crucial part of my subject. If he keeps on missing my classes, he’ll receive a failing grade in my subject, no considerations,” he said with a stern voice.

You kept quiet for a moment, but only nodded. “I will inform him about this one, thank you so much sir.”

“I know that Arcanum is slowly becoming popular, but he still has to prioritize his studies,” your professor comments.

You only gave him a formal smile before excusing yourself. As soon as you reached the hallway, you felt yourself in relief, but there was a hurtful tug on your heart. You couldn’t help but to grab your phone, dialing Sunghoon’s number.

But all your calls went to his voicemail, you only stared at your phone, frozen from where you were standing. Your heart is beating at an abnormal pace and you hate that feeling.

You’re nervous. You hated feeling nervous. You’re nervous about Sunghoon, if he fails this subject, he’ll be delayed to graduate. He can’t delay. No, you two were supposed to graduate this year and after a few months, you two will get married before attending medical school. That’s the plan. There shouldn’t be any other options other than that.

Of course you have to tell him about it, but the question was, does Sunghoon care? That’s what scares you the most. Because there’s a large possibility that he doesn’t care about it, he’ll let himself fail a subject if it means proving you wrong.

You couldn’t concentrate for the remaining day. Thoughts keep running in your mind, and to make it worse, none of your subjects were attended by Sunghoon. You don’t know his whereabouts since he wasn’t replying to your texts and calls, and you know that you’re going home to an empty house again.

Sunghoon is probably in his gig again, or maybe practicing somewhere. That’s what you thought when you entered the house, and your guess is right, it was empty and dark. As you close the door, there’s a small pain in your heart staring at the huge yet hollow house, wondering if this would be the house that you’ll go home to in a few years.

But your pondering was interrupted when you felt your phone vibrating, as you grabbed it and opened, you were surprised that Sunghoon’s calling you.

“I’ve been calling you since earlier!” you shouted the moment you answered the call.

“My parents’ are here, I spent the day with them in case you’re wondering why I was absent for today,” Sunghoon said boredly, and despite his cold tone, you were relieved to hear his explanation.

“You should’ve told me that instead of having me wonder where the hell are you,” you replied.

“Get dressed, they’re taking us out for dinner, I know you’re home by now, so we’ll pick you around thirty minutes,” and with that, Sunghoon ends the call. He didn’t even acknowledge your answer. You could only look at your phone for a minute before deciding to go to your room and find a nice outfit for dinner.

Sunghoon’s parents are a lovely couple who treated you like their own daughter. As soon as they arrive at your place to pick you up, Mrs. Park immediately approaches you with a smile on her face, hugging you tightly which you only reciprocate.

“Y/n dear! Look at you, so pretty as ever,” she said with a smile, brushing your hair which only made you smile wider. “Don’t get too stressed, okay? I know with graduation nearing, it can be stressful for you two. Just don’t worry about your marriage, focus on your studies first.”

You only let out a small chuckle, “of course auntie, thank you for the concern.”

“You’re looking out for Sunghoon,” she whispered, knowing that the subject was in the room. “It can be hard sometimes, right? I’m just happy that you’re the one that he’s going to marry. He doesn’t know how lucky he is.”

The smile on your face almost slipped, but you managed to give her a nod. The beaming smile on Mrs. Park’s lips make you wonder what she would feel if she learned about how disastrous her son is now — or how his fiance couldn’t even tame him down.

“Of course, thank you for putting your trust in me.” instead, fake words slipped out of your mouth perfectly even though you were itching to snitch your fiance to his mother.

Mrs. Park only pats your cheeks one last time before calling out Mr. Park and Sunghoon, indicating that the four of you should go now.

Arriving at the restaurant, the four of you went straight to the VIP room where food was already served. Dinner immediately commenced with a few talks and chit-chats.

“Graduation is near,” Mr. Park said in the middle of the dinner, glancing at you and Sunghoon. “Any plans? University of choice for your med school?”

“Decelis’ medical school is one of the top,” you answered diligently. “I might stay there.”

“Ah, I do remember, both your parents attended Decelis Medical School, good choice for you y/n,” Mr. Park pointed out.

“How about you Sunghoon dear?” Mrs. Park asked.

You only glanced at Sunghoon who busied himself with the food. He gives his parents a bored stare before picking up the meat on his plate, “Probably Decelis too.”

“Ah I see, you don’t want to get separated from y/n, such a sweetheart,” Mrs. Park teasingly said.

Sunghoon softly scoffs, making you glance at him. His action were left unnoticed by his parents. When Sunghoon glanced at you, he raised an eyebrow, and you wanted to say something but you held yourself back. Knowing that you two are just putting up a show to his parents.

The remaining hours were filled with nothing but silence, which you are used to. Talks about college were all the conversation revolved around, and somehow, Sunghoon managed to answer his parents’ questions like he was a diligent student who’s top of his class.

“Take care of the two of you okay? We’ll see you during your break,” after a few goodbyes and hugs, Sunghoon’s parents have left the two of you back in your house. The two of you watched their car leave and with that, Sunghoon turns around and enters the house.

You followed him, heels clanking against the marble floor. You watched as he unbuttons his sleeved shirt’s button, walking towards his room when you called him out.

“You should be glad that I didn’t tell them that you’re on the edge of failing a subject,” you blurted out.

Sunghoon merely laughs in disbelief, “oh, now I should be glad that you saved my ass earlier? Thank you then.”

You chose to ignore his sarcastic remark, “Sunghoon, you can’t give up now, we’re graduating, do you really want to get yourself delayed?”

Sunghoon only stared at you, “what if I do? Is there something you can do about it?”

You only blink for a second. “Fine, go on and get delayed, fail a subject if you want to. But do I have to remind you that Arcanum’s a university band? And by Decelis’ rules, they allow bands to perform as long as they don’t have a failing grade? So if you want to be so hard-headed about not attending class, say goodbye to your band then.”

“You’re so annoying aren’t you? Using Arcanum just so I can continue studying medicine,” Sunghoon exhales.

A haunting smirk plastered on your face, “oh no sweetheart, I’m just reminding you that you can’t chase after Arcanum, especially when it’s still tied in Decelis and your studies. So maybe rethink your life choices now before your parents find out about the mess that you’ve been doing.”

Sunghoon mockingly laughs, “you’re such a stuck-up to my parents.”

“Then make a fucking choice Hoon,” you challenged. “Them finding out through me or Decelis? Either way, it’s not going to end well, so fix yourself and get some sleep tonight. We have class tomorrow at eight. Goodnight to you.”

You end the conversation by passing by him. Going straight to your room where you immediately locked yourself. You lean against the door, Eyes shutting tightly as you try to steady your breathing. You can feel all the energy leaving your body, wanting nothing more to sleep.

You always say to yourself that you won’t give up on Sunghoon, but days like these feel like every effort you give to him is useless.

The following day, you and Sunghoon arrived at Decelis University together, creating a buzz in the campus. It was a rare occurrence for you to attend together.

Everyone knows. It's obvious that your relationship has been becoming astray, and yet, your “power couple” status remains the same. No one attempted to pursue you nor girls couldn’t flirt with Sunghoon not only because you two are tied together, but because you two are deemed untouchable because of your background.

You two entered the classroom, Sunghoon going to the corner seat near the window while you opted for the second row near the aisle. A few mutters can be heard, but you chose to ignore it, getting used to people talking about you and Sunghoon’s ‘stray relationship.’

The day goes on, classes and laboratories continue on and on, and you’ve done the class with ease. You didn’t talk to Sunghoon but you observed that he managed to catch up with your lectures despite his absences. Natural Sunghoon, he can be gone for half of the semester, and still manage to top his grades.

“Go home already,” Sunghoon said to you by the end of the class. “I have a gig tonight.”

You only gave him a bitter smile, “of course you have.”

But instead of leaving you there, Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, “you know this y/n.”

“And I’m used to it,” you sharply said. “Why are you still standing there? Go now before I convince you to not go to your gig tonight.’

Sunghoon gave you another look before turning around, watching him leave the classroom as you stood there. Short conversations, sarcastic remarks, and bitter statements that’ll lead to arguments. You wonder when will this end?

“What’s wrong? You’re out of focus today,” Yizhuo asked with a worried tone. You only place your tennis racket down as you grab your water bottle.

“Just the same usual thing,” you answer, sitting on the bench as your best friend did the same thing. She places her hand on your thigh, lightly patting it.

“Sunghoon again? You know you should stop chasing after him.”

“It’s not that I am chasing him, I’m already tied to him —” you heaved out another heavy sigh. “He’s the one chasing after a dream. Bands? What’s his future with them? After college, they’ll be gone, it’s not like they’ll continue playing after college.”

“He seems to be so passionate about it,” Yizhuo pointed out. “Watched their performance last week at The Rabbit Hole, they’re great by the way.”

“He should be focusing on med school,” you explained. “But he’s out there performing and getting drunk, I don’t know Ning, I don’t know what to do with him. His parents trusted me to take care of him —”

“There you go again, worrying about things that aren’t your control,” your best friend gently pats your back. “You know, you can always back out of the marriage? You’re still young! You might even meet someone better in med school.”

That’s when you stifle a laugh, “how can I? My parents arranged this one.”

“Ran away! Do you really want to spend your life with that idiot?”

You didn’t answer your friend. Your smile disappeared, and for a moment, you only looked at the court where strangers were playing tennis. Your focus shifted to the tennis ball bouncing back and forth from the players until it went out of the court.

“I do,” you said softly, because from the very start, it has always been Sunghoon. You couldn’t imagine yourself looking for others when Sunghoon is right there from the very start.

“You’re going to let yourself be a fool for him huh?” Yizhuo asked with a disappointed tone.

But you only looked at your best friend with a determined smile, “no, I’m going to make him quit the band.”

“You know you’re already doing it but nothing’s changing,” Yizhuo said. You only gave her a smile before standing up from the bench, you two went back to the table where your bags are located.

“Then I just have to keep on trying more,” you pointed out, fishing out your phone, you opened it and saw missed calls from Sunghoon — which is a surprise.

You pressed Sunghoon’s number and after a few rings, it answered.

“Hello?” an unfamiliar voice called.

“Hello, who is this?” you asked.

“It’s Heeseung, Sunghoon’s bandmate.”

“Oh! I remember you, you study education right?”

Heeseung faintly chuckles from the background, “yes, that would be me, but listen, uhm…Sunghoon’s drunk right now —”

“Already? It’s only ten in the evening.”

“Yeah, but you know his alcohol tolerance — listen, uhm can you pick him up? He’s passed out on the couch but doesn’t want to get inside Jay’s car for some reason.” you can sense Heeseung’s apologetic tone, which only made you roll your eyes.

“It’s not like I can leave him there right? Can you send me the location, I’ll be there in a few minutes, I’m just at Decelis’ tennis club,” you said.

“I’ll send it right now, thank you y/n.” And with that, the call ended. You grabbed your bag and bid Yizhuo goodbye.

“Just reminding you that you can always leave him!” your best friend shouted, and you only gave her a glare before sprinting towards your car.

Sunghoon’s location drove you to a huge house, just a few blocks away from the university. Parking your car nearby, you got off from it and headed towards the entrance, ringing the bell twice.

The door opened, revealing a tall and familiar guy who you assumed was Heeseung.

“You’re here, that’s great, we’ll get Sunghoon but come in first,” he said with a smile, you only nod as you enter the house.

“You’re Heeseung right?” you asked as you two walked towards the living room. Heeseung stops and looks at you, he looks surprised but only nods.

“Yeah, this is probably the first time we met, I only see you inside the campus and that’s a rare occurrence.” he said.

Entering the living room, the first thing you saw was Sunghoon flat-out dead on the couch while some boys were cleaning the mess on the coffee table along with some girls. Can beers and bottles of vodkas placed on the table along with some snacks, while their instruments are set-up on a corner.

“He said that he was on a gig,” you stated, walking towards Sunghoon.

“Yeah, we just finished it earlier and he kinda insisted that we celebrate it,” Heeseung shrugs.

“He has the guts to drink his heart out and then not go to class the next day,” you muttered under breath as you lightly shake Sunghoon’s shoulder.

“He’s not gonna wake up anytime soon,” said another voice. “I’m Jay, and this is Jungwon.”

“Hi, sorry for the hassle,” the blonde boy said.

“I’m sorry for Sunghoon too, I feel like you guys always have to take care of him whenever he’s like this.”

“We’re used to it, no worries,” Jay assured.

“And that worries me more because he just doesn’t stop,” you pointed out. “You’ll end up tolerating his bad habits.”

No one said a thing. The three of them watched as you attempted to pull Sunghoon to sit up from his place, you were struggling but you were persistent.

They know how much you dislike Arcanum, seeing it as nothing but a university band who performs. Despite all of Sunghoon’s rants and complaints about you, the remaining three decided to be civil with you since they know that you’re going to be Sunghoon’s future wife.

“If that’s your worry, we don’t tolerate bad habits here,” Heeseung breaks the silence approaching you as he lifts Sunghoon on his shoulders, along with the other two who held his limbs.

“That’s not my only worry,” you whispered, Heeseung glances at you before proceeding to carry Sunghoon outside towards your car.

They set him neatly on the passenger seat, Sunghoon didn’t move nor made a sound as they put on his seatbelt. It’s safe to assume that he’s passed-out drunk and frustration is written all over your face. They weren’t that stupid to notice it, Sunghoon has lately become too attached with alcohol.

“You guys know that he’s studying medicine right? After college, he’s going to med school,” you asked them, who only glanced at each other, knowing that it’s the total opposite of what Sunghoon has been telling them.

“If he keeps going on like this, I don’t know what will happen to him in the future,” you said one last time before going inside your car and driving away from the place.

The silence was devouring, you kept on glancing at Sunghoon from time to time, checking if he had gained consciousness or not. You only tighten your hold on the steering wheel as you speeden your drive towards your place.

As you arrive at your house, that’s when you face the challenge of carrying Sunghoon inside your place. You opened the door of the passenger seat and lightly shake Sunghoon’s shoulder. He didn’t budge for a moment, that’s when you called out his name, shaking it harsher than before.

You watch as Sunghoon’s eyebrows knit, letting out a frustrated groan as he attempts to open his eyes.

“Get up now, we’re home,” you told him.

“y/n?” he asked before closing his eyes.

“Sunghoon! Wake up please!” you pleaded. But he didn’t move again, so you stood there, thinking about what to do with him. That’s when you used all your strength to swing his heavy arms around your shoulders but as soon as you attempted to pull him out of the car, he didn’t budge.

“Fucking hell,” you curse, removing his shoulder. This time, you shake his head while screaming his name. For a few seconds, he opens his eyes confused and drowsy.

“Just lean on me,” you instructed, you grabbed his shoulders once again and this time, Sunghoon managed to move on his own, leaning his huge body against yours. You could only groan as you helped him walk inside your house.

You didn’t even manage to reach his room, Sunghoon found himself stumbling in the living room — towards the couch where you couldn’t do anything but to fix his position. You left the living room and returned in a minute with a blanket and a pillow for him.

Gently, you place the pillow below his head and put the blanket on him. Then you stood there, eyes never leaving Sunghoon who’s sleeping now. You kneeled in front of him, brushing his messy bangs so that you could see his face closer.

“What am I going to do with you Hoon?” you whispered, eyes never leaving his face. Sunghoon looks so peaceful and gentle in his sleep — this is probably the only time you see him this peaceful.

A bitter smile escapes your lips because the more you look at him, the more it slowly sinks into you that tomorrow won’t be like this. “Goodnight Sunghoon,” you mumbled, patting his head one last time before returning to your room.

Your routine was disrupted when Sunghoon barged into the kitchen, angry and frustrated.

“Y/n!? What the fuck!?” you stopped your tracks, turning off the stove before turning around to see a disheveled and mad Sunghoon in front of you.

“Is there something wrong?” you asked.

“Don’t act so fucking innocent now, you know what you did,” Sunghood accused you.

“Maybe get straight to the point rather than pointing fingers on me,” you replied.

“You told my friends about med school,” he answered. “Now they think that Arcanum’s messing up my future.”

“Well isn’t it? Sunghoon, you really think that you’re going to play in that band forever?” you taunted. It’s been a few days since you had a talk with his band members. The following day that time, everything seems to be normal for you — not until now that Sunghoon had discovered it.

“What if I want to? What if I told you that I am not planning to go to med school and I want to perform instead?” he taunted back, stepping forward in front of you which made you step backward, trapping you between the kitchen counter.

“That’s not what’s planned Sunghoon,” you breathe, forehead creasing as you only stare at him dead. “You knew from the start, ever since we got engaged — engagement, college, marriage, then med school. That was the plan.”

“Have you ever thought that maybe things might change y/n? Maybe I want to perform now rather than take over my father’s business.”

“So you’ll be a disappointment?” you mocked. “You’ll go after your dream? Performing stupid songs and covers rather than repaying your parents’ efforts on you?”

“At least I know what I want, can’t say that to you since you can’t decide for yourself,” Sunghoon mocks.

A stinging pain burned on Sunghoon’s cheeks. It took him a minute to sink in what you just did, but he could only laugh mockingly as your eyes remained at him, wide but filled with anger. Your palms numbed as it rounded to conceal yourself from doing it again.

“At least I know what’s best for me, and you may not like it but we’re engaged Sunghoon, and I’m not going to let our future be ruined by some mere passion of yours,” you stated, gritting your teeth as your stare became cold.

Sunghoon didn’t say another word. His eyes speak for it that he’s angry, and he’s only controlling himself from hurting you despite the fact that you hurt him first. You could only stare at him, not attempting to back down.

But it was as if there’s an angel watching over you, the doorbell rang, indicating a visitor. The two of you turned your head towards the door, and before anyone could say another word, you pushed Sunghoon out of your way, walking towards the door and opening it.

“Wonyoung!?” you shouted, surprised to see your best friend.

“Surprise!” the girl shouted in glee, stretching her arms to pull you a hug which you dearly reciprocated.

“Oh my god, you’re here?” you asked, breaking out from the hug.

“I just got back from Milan and went straight here,” Wonyoung winks before she steps inside your house, your eyes following her as she goes to Sunghoon.

“Sunghoon! I miss you!” Wonyoung shouted, embracing Sunghoon who only reciprocated it.

“Long time no see, Wonnie,” Sunghoon gently said.

“It’s great — what happened to your face?” Wonyoung asked, seeing his left cheeks red.

“Bumped on a wall, but it doesn’t hurt,” Sunghoon lied, before glancing at you who only stared at him coldly.

Wonyoung seems to be convinced by it, laughing it off before pulling you two to a hug. Squealing how much she has missed you two — oblivious about the fight that happened just minutes ago.

“Do you want some drinks? Come on, sit down for a while,” Sunghoon insisted, ignoring you as he ushered Wonyoung towards the living room. You immediately noticed how Sunghoon’s face lit up, his smile becoming wider that his eyes turned into two curves — the first time in the many months that you saw Sunghoon’s genuine smile.

It wasn’t always you and Sunghoon ever since you two were kids — there were the three of you.

Wonyoung is a best friend of yours. A sister that you always needed. She’s a free-spirited girl who always indulges in fun even if it means getting the three of you in trouble.

Unlike you and Sunghoon, Wonyoung’s family is richer. She was rich enough to have a choice not to attend college and spend her parents’ money that won’t even dent their bank account. While you and Sunghoon are studying in Decelis, Wonyoung was traveling a lot, attending fashion weeks, and brand launches. Slowly, she became a well-known influencer and socialite that collaborates with well-known brands and walks for their runway. It was hard to get a glimpse of her, that’s why it surprised you that she’s here in the city.

“So, what brings you here instead of going back to our hometown?” you asked, placing the glass of juice in front of her.

“Mom and dad’s here, they’re actually planning on renewing their vows — oh by the way, you two are invited there and so are your parents, it’s an intimate event but you know them, they want it grandiose and perfect, so I have to help in organizing it,” Wonyoung diligently said. “And I miss you guys! It’s been like a year since we last hung out, hopefully I’m not intruding on whatever plans you have though.”

Talking about wrong timing. You thought. Everything is crumbling between you and Sunghoon but you don’t want Wonyoung to know about that, so you only gave her smile and said, “everything’s fine, a bit hectic because it’s senior year, but it’s a rare case that you’re here, so we’ll make time.”

Wonyoung only pouts, “you guys, I really miss you, seriously! I love my job but it gets lonely sometimes.”

“You can always go back to college,” Sunghoon teased, making Wonyoung glare at him.

“Ugh, you dumbass, if I returned to college, you guys would have already graduated!” Wonyoung whined while Sunghoon only laughed.

“Anyways, I just dropped by to show up to you guys, just tell me when you guys are free, maybe we could go out for dinner — oh, I wanted to see Decelis too! How’s that sound?” Wonyoung delightfully suggested.

“We’ll make time for you Won, just tell us when you’re free,” Sunghoon answered, making you glance at him.

Wonyoung only smiled at the answer. She told the two of you that she’s free all the time since there’s not much preparation going on. As she bid goodbye to you, you only gave her a short smile before she was walked out of the door by Sunghoon. Watching the two of them exchange banters before Sunghoon closes the door.

You stood up from your seat, ready to leave when Sunghoon cornered you immediately.

“You think we’re done? I’m not done yet y/n,” Sunghoon growled.

But you only gave him a bored smile, “Wonyoung’s here Hoon, can we just not do this? I don’t want her seeing us fight —”

“You care more about what others think of us huh? Of course, you don’t want everyone to see the ‘perfect daughter’ imperfect.”

“It’s seldom for us to see Wonnie, I don’t want her to think that our friendship is ruined, we’re the only one that she has,” you pointed out.

“Well, too bad for her, it’s already ruined, the moment both of us got engaged.” Sunghoon didn’t even let you say another word. He eventually went back to his room, slamming the door loudly like he always does.

You remained there standing, words deeply cutting through your mind. You looked at Sunghoon’s door once again, before heaving a sigh. The palm of your hand remained heavy, guilt swallowing you knowing that perhaps, you went too far this time.

Over the weekend, the three of you went out as per Wonyoung’s request. Going to a nearby mall where you three had brunch, played at the arcade, and even took photos at the photobooth. The whole day felt nice for you, it felt like you three are back as teens who would sneak out at night just to hangout and drive around town.

While you and Sunghoon are still not okay, a silent truce was made for Wonyoung. You two never tried to argue or fight whenever she’s around, and although it can be suffocating for the both of you, you two tried to act as normal as possible.

“I do wonder what would happen to us if I stayed and studied college,” Wonyoung ponders. The three of you decided to have ramen and convenience store snacks by the end of the day, opting to watch the sunset at a nearby park. It was Wonyoung’s request because she was curious what it feels like, seeing it on social media not knowing that this is also the first time you and Sunghoon had experienced it.

“What makes you think about that?” you asked.

Wonyoung only smiles, “you guys seem to be so secured with your future, becoming doctors and stuff, while me? I don’t know what I am doing.”

“You’re doing what you love,” Sunghoon butts in. “And that matters, you know? At least you love what you’re doing, not because it’ll secure you a good future.”

You know what Sunghoon was trying to say, but you remained quiet, watching as Wonyoung nodded at Sunghoon’s advice.

“You’re right, I do love the free pr packages and clothes,” Wonyoung jokes, laughing before pulling you two to a hug. “You guys are the best, hope nothing changes with the three of us.”

A meaningful glance was exchanged between you and Sunghoon. Not one said a word, only actions spoke as both of you embraced your best friend back.

The following week, Decelis University had a one-day event, cancelling academic activities which was an opportunity for you to invite Wonyoung to tour around Decelis. She arrived around three in the afternoon, hugging you and Sunghoon as she complained how organizing her parents’ renewal of vows became hectic, happy that she was able to relax for today.

The tour went on with ease, Wonyoung was curioused at the different department buildings of Decelis since its structure differed from others. Taking photos using her film camera which she used to take photos of the three of you too.

“So this is called the lover’s garden because lovers often come here?” Wonyoung asked, pointing at Decelis’ botanical garden which is actually for botany and biology students.

“More like a lover's hideaway, it’s pitch black there during night, I’m leaving up to your imagination what couples do there,” Sunghoon explains, a teasing smile on his lips as Wonyoung’s face distorted in disgust.

“Ew! Why can’t you guys book a hotel room or something,” she commented and yet, her camera was ready. “Oh well, might as well take a picture of both of you —”

“What?” you asked, appalled. “Won, we never did it.”

“And save myself from imagining you two banging, just stand in front of the entrance! You guys are a couple right? Come on now, you two don’t have a photo together!” Wonyoung insisted.

An exchange of glances was given, but before you could even complain once again, Sunghoon pulled you towards the entrance.

“Come on now, the more you complain, the more Wonyoung will insist,” Sunghoon boredly explained. You didn’t say a word, you stood there before facing the camera.

“Pose! You guys are so stiff, it’s like you two aren’t in love with each other,” Wonyoung taunted before preparing her camera again.

Funny because you two aren’t at all. But no protest was made when Sunghoon swings his arms around your shoulder before pulling you closer. You can feel your heart skip a beat, but it was immediately reminded by your mind. The more you complain, the more Wonyoung insists. Sunghoon did it so that it can be finished early, so you fake a smile as Wonyoung clicks the button.

She stares at the screen, smiles wide as she looks at you two, “you guys are perfect for each other.”

“Very funny Won,” you sarcastically replied.

After the endless walking and tour, you three stumbled at your building’s cafeteria, buying drinks as Wonyoung is still in awe about your university, totally immersing herself with your college life.

“What about dinner? I’m pretty sure you guys have a lot of good eateries around,” Wonyoung suggested, it was five-thirty in the afternoon, the sun was almost setting which meant that it's time for early dinner for most students.

“You guys can go on,” Sunghoon said, standing from his seat. “I have to go, I have a gig.”

You internally scoff, even if Wonyoung’s here, Sunghoon couldn’t bear to miss his band’s gig.

“Wait, can we watch?” Wonyoung excitedly asked, making the two of you look at her.

“Ask y/n if she wants to,” Sunghoon bitterly said, and you only looked away from him, rolling your eyes.

“What? You haven’t seen Sunghoon’s gig?” your best friend asked, confused before gazing her eyes back to Sunghoon.

Your lips tightened, “I’m busy…I don’t have time —”

“Then this is a great time to watch his gig! Come on!”

You weren’t able to object, Wonyoung was so excited that it only left you quiet as she pulled you away from your seat.

Arcanum’s weekly gig was held at The Rabbit Hole — a mixture of coffee shop and bar lounge under Decelis University’s funding. The place was cozy, designed with vintage interiors with a small stage place in the end. This is the first time you went to that place, almost surprised to see that it’s full of people; locals, students, and probably fans of Arcanum crowded the small establishment.

You and Wonyoung find yourself at a table for two far from the stage but enough to see their performance. Sunghoon excuses himself as he went to the back room where it serves as Arcanum’s waiting room.

“Do you even know that Sunghoon plays in the band?” Wonyoung jokes, eyes never leaving the menu on her hand.

“I do, I just don’t have time to watch his performance,” you half-lied. The truth is, you never tried to find time to watch their performance. For what? You always say to Sunghoon whenever he invites you to his gig, you rather spend the time studying or doing something much important for you.

“Well I’m glad I’m here because we’re going to watch him perform!” your best friend giggled, you only gave her a small smile before glancing at the menu once again.

While waiting for your food to arrive, you noticed how the place slowly became full to the point that there weren’t any tables left and some people opted to stand instead. Your eyes never left the crowd, wondering if this is the usual situation to Arcanum’s gig.

Around seven in the evening, your food arrived but you were startled when the crowd started screaming — mostly girls of course, making you shift your attention at the stage.

There they were, Arcanum. The four-member band of Decelis University. They changed their school uniform with a casual street-style outfit. Your eyes fixated on Sunghoon who’s wearing a football jersey, pairing it with a huge chain necklace and cargo pants.

You watch as he busies himself with his keyboard — the instrument that he bought by saving up his allowance. You remember how he excitedly unboxed it in the living room, even testing it out while you sat on the couch reviewing for your midterm exams. Somehow, he was careful with it, caring for it like it’s his own child.

“Wow, we have a full house tonight!” your attention immediately caught on Heeseung who’s in the center, holding a bass guitar as his smile was wide and gleaming. Screams can be heard from the crowd, a fangirl even shouted “I love you Heeseung!” which only made the vocalist chuckle.

“Before that, let’s have a crowd check don’t we? Who's here for the first time?” Heeseung asked, raising his hands which a few in the crowd followed.

“Us! It’s our first time!” you were startled when Wonyoung shouted loudly, standing up from her seat as she grabbed your hands and raised it together with hers — caughting Heeseung’s attention, an evident smirk on the male’s lips can be seen.

“Oh? I am seeing familiar faces here, do we Hoon?” the vocalist teased, Sunghoon only smirked as he crossed his arms.

“I have to impress my guests, so you better do your best Hee,” Sunghoon nonchalantly replied before glancing at the two of you. Eyes immediately locking on yours as he raised his eyebrow knowingly — like he was telling you that he was meant to be there, performing.

“Well better set the mood right, come on guys,” with that, Heeseung signals the band and at the count of three, they start playing synchronically.

The crowd started screaming. You can see it, how synergized they were. They weren’t just there to perform, they were also having fun. The way Heeseung interacted with the crowd along with Jay, making the small stage as his own. He then stands in front of the microphone stand, singing the first line of a song unfamiliar to you.

“The vocalist sounds so good!” you hear Wonyoung exclaim and you only nod at her words, it is true that Heeseung was good, but your eyes darted to Sunghoon.

There he was, blending in the background along with Jungwon who’s at the drums, but compared to the junior, Sunghoon wasn’t banging his head as the drumsticks slammed against the drums. He wasn’t like Heeseung who controls the crowd, nor Jay who’s rocking his electric guitar like crazy.

Sunghoon was there like a quiet mystery, a controlled relaxed expression as he immersed himself with playing the keyboard, a few head nods as his chords synchronised with others. You could only blink, deja vu hitting you all of the sudden — you remember the first time you saw Sunghoon.

He bores the same expression that he had back when he was young. Your gaze locked on him, not noticing how your eyes met each other, but quickly, Sunghoon looked away and continued playing. Something inside you was burning, strangely your heart was beating like crazy as you watched Sunghoon perform.

You didn’t even notice that the song was finished. The crowd applauded and cheered for them, Heeseung jokingly bows before asking if the crowd wants some more.

Throughout the whole gig, your eyes never left Sunghoon. Throughout their whole performance, you watch him change his expression more than the duration that you two had lived together, but all only fell into one conclusion — Sunghoon was happy to perform. You can see it from the way he was serious while playing the keyboard up to the way he joked with his bandmates, letting out small laughter and eye smiles throughout the small break.

The gig ends around nine in the evening. As they stepped down from the stage, people swarmed them excitedly. Asking for pictures and small talks. You watch as Sunghoon happily accepts his fans’ request, taking pictures with them, which made Wonyoung laugh, knowing that Sunghoon can be awkward with strangers.

“Congrats! You guys are so awesome!” Wonyoung exclaimed as soon as Sunghoon approached you two.

“Thanks Won,” Sunghoon quietly said, before glancing at you. A moment of silence hovered between the two of you before Wonyoung nudged you.

“You did great,” you told him, giving him a small smile afterwards.

Sunghoon’s eyes widened, surprised by your words. You only looked away, embarrassed while Sunghoon’s gaze remained at you.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“It’s nothing Hoon,” you quickly turned down.

The night ended with the three of you remaining at The Rabbit Hole for some light dinner and drinks. Sunghoon introduced Arcanum to you and Wonyoung once again, and it wasn’t a surprise that Wonyoung got along with them easily. You remain quiet throughout the night, listening to their conversation while you only take your space at the end of the table — knowing that you don’t relate to them at all.

Around eleven in the evening, you drop Wonyoung off to the hotel where she was staying, reminding you about her parents’ second wedding before bidding you two goodbye. The drive back to your home was quiet, an awkward atmosphere that both of you couldn’t comprehend. You can feel Sunghoon’s glance at you at every minute but you chose to ignore it, too tired to give it a meaning.

“Do you mean it?” The moment you two stepped inside the living room, Sunghoon broke the tension between you two.

You only turned around, a bored gaze staring at him but he remained unfazed.

“Do you mean what you said earlier?” he asked, merely audible like he was embarrassed to ask you that.

For a moment you ponder. You wanted to tell him that it reminds you from the time that you two first met. Like the Sunghoon who you grew up with — but your mind stopped you. What for? If you told him that, it meant that he was right, he’s much better to be a keyboardist than a doctor. That means you accept his passion.

“I wish you could’ve put that same energy in your studies,” so you told him that instead. A cold statement that your mind won’t stop reminding him.

From there, you saw how the small hope in his eyes faded, followed by bitter laughter escaping from his lips. “Why did I even bother asking you again.”

He passes by you, like you’re nothing but a ghost, going straight to his room while you left there standing alone, guilt slowly growing in your heart.

The second wedding of Wonyoung’s parents was extravagant just like what your best friend said. A small private reception was held at a banquet of a five-star hotel after their renewal at a small hall nearby. Flowers filled the white crystallized hall, something straight out of a royalty. You could only awe as you entered the place, arms clutched at Sunghoon who merely spoke throughout the day.

“Sunghoon, y/n! Glad to see you two!” Mrs. Jang approached you two with a hug and kiss, you only smiled at the woman who’s like a mother to you.

“Congratulations auntie, the vows were so sweet, I almost cried!” you said, making the woman laugh.

“I bet you’ll write better vows than me,” she winks. “Both your parents have been talking about retirement and taking care of their grandkids from you two — gosh! You two are still young! I told them.”

You only stifled a laugh to hide the awkwardness, Mrs. Jang only gave your arms a small squeeze, glancing at you and Sunghoon once again. “You two still have a long way to go, I hope you two won’t give up on each other.”

You became quiet for a minute, but immediately, you gave her a smile before nodding. “Of course, thank you auntie.”

Mrs. Jang excused herself to entertain other guests, so you took the opportunity to find your assigned seat where you and Sunghoon sat. Wonyoung was busying herself with the event organizer, you can see the stress on her face but she always lights up whenever she passes the two of you, promising you two that she’ll make it up to you two later.

It didn’t take too long for both of your parents to arrive. You and Sunghoon welcomed them with greetings and hugs, and it was obvious in their face that they were so happy to see you two together.

“Look at you two, you two are like a match made in heaven!” Mrs. Park compliments, you only chuckle at her words.

“I can hear the wedding bells already! What do you think sweetie? Will this be a great reception for your wedding?” your mother suggested.

“Mom please, let’s not talk about that right now,” you awkwardly said.

“It’s going to happen anyways,” your mother insisted. “But I do hope you two are doing well in your studies.”

“Of course, everything is going well auntie,” it was Sunghoon who answered, making you glance at him. Faking a smile to your mother who only pats his shoulders with glee.

“Well, that’s glad to hear,” your father answered. “I heard that you two will be attending Decelis Medical School. The passing rate is small there, I’m not scaring you two, just trying to remind you two.”

“Dad, we’ll be fine, put trust in the two of us,” you assured.

“Everyone’s expecting from the two of you,” Mr. Park added. “Families, friends, colleagues, everyone. They say there’s no couple who will have a better life than you two.”

Somehow, that only puts more weights on your shoulder. They’re still expecting, and you don’t know what to say to them, hence, you only put a fake smile as an awkward chuckle escapes your lips.

“Of course,” Sunghoon answers casually like he wasn’t the one who’s actually ruining the whole engagement. “Can you excuse us for a moment? I would like to dance y/n.”

“Oh, such a sweetheart! Of course, you don’t need to tell us that,” Mrs. Park insisted.

Sunghoon only glances at you, offering his right hand to you, which you only accepted. You knew that he didn’t actually want to dance with you, it’s just an excuse for you two to escape the conversations with both your parents before it gets worse.

But it leads you two to an even more awkward atmosphere. Your head low as you ignore Sunghoon’s stare that has you melting like ice. Right hand clasps to each other while your other hand is on his shoulder, as his other hand is on your waist, holding you dearly as you two dance along with other couples on the circle.

It felt orchestrated, stiff like two robots forced to dance. You could only listen to the music as you follow Sunghoon’s steps.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you said.

“Rather have this than straight-up lie to our parents,” he said, which only made you bitterly laugh.

“You don’t need to lie if you weren’t fucking around,” that’s when you look at him, trying to remove his hold when he tugs you closer. His eyes bore nothing but coldness, while yours was intense, filled with annoyance.

“Everyone’s watching us,” Sunghoon whispered. “You’re not going to make a mess aren’t you?”

“Why would I make a mess at someone’s wedding? That’ll be shameful Hoon,” you stated the obvious. “I’ll be surprised if you’re the one who’ll make a scene.”

“Of course, you always think that I’ll do something like that,” he replied.

“With all the bullshits and mess you’ve been doing lately, it doesn’t surprise me at all,” you gave him a knowing smile. His hold on you tightens, squeezing your hands and you’re convinced that a mark on your waist will bloom the following day. But you didn’t want to back down, your eyes remained at him as you two continued to dance.

The song ended after what feels like an eternity. Immediately, you and Sunghoon stopped, making you remove his hold from you before giving him another bitter smile.

“I need a drink, excuse me,” you said, leaving him standing there.

You remained on the champagne section, lightly sipping the drink which you internally wince. You’re not used to alcoholic drinks but tonight feels like you needed it — maybe two or three, because you honestly don’t know what to do with your life.

The event, supposedly an event where everyone witnessed a renewal of love, made you sick rather than feel romantic. Everything’s suffocating, knowing that you’re the only one who knows about Sunghoon’s rebellion and you can’t do nothing about him while that asshole still managed to put up a show and spew lies to both your parents.

On your fourth glass, the song suddenly changed into a bright, lively one. A disco song from the 80s that had people in gowns and tuxedos dance drunkenly. And yet, you remained in the corner, watching the crowd even seeing your parents were on the dance floor too, you stifled a laugh because they were probably reminiscing about their youth.

From there, you caught a glimpse of them. You placed down the glass, stepping forward to see the two of them dancing.

Sunghoon and Wonyoung. They weren’t not only dancing, but they were laughing too. You watch as the two of them dance, copying each other’s steps, synchronising as they sing along the song. You stood there, frozen. Your eyes never leave them, watching how Sunghoon twirled Wonyoung — like they’re in their own world.

Your fist turned round, nails digging on your palm as you tried to control yourself. Something about them brewed something in you. An unexplainable feeling that you don’t want to acknowledge. Watching them hold hands as they spun along to the music, while you remained nailed to a corner, your stomach wrenched into a weird feeling. — then it hit you. Everything makes sense now.

That’s it. You didn’t think twice anymore. You went back to your table, grabbing the purse you brought and without looking back, you quietly exited the party.

You found yourself inside the restroom, locking yourself inside as you tried to control your breathing. Closing your eyes, you tried to relax — but the scene earlier just keeps on replaying in your mind. Your hold on the sink tightens, almost scraping your nails against the marble texture.

As much as you want to insist that you and Sunghoon are already arranged to marry each other, Sunghoon is far from being yours.

This has always been a marriage of convenience. You always remind that to yourself. Yet, there’s not a day where you wish that Sunghoon would see you differently. That you wish that he sees the reason why you’re doing everything for him. But from what you witnessed earlier, you realized that his heart beats for someone else.

All hopes lost. The signs are there. How can you let someone be married to you when he yearns for another? Everything you’ve done for him crumbled in an instant. Wasted and useless, because not only were your feelings devastated, but you also ruined your friendship with him.

For the first time, you accept your own defeat. You stared at the mirror, seeing your reflection disgusted you. A spiraling feeling where as you stare at her, all you can see is a deceitful girl who was too selfish and prideful — wondering, if this is all Sunghoon can see in you.

With a heavy heart, you left the restroom, walking towards the empty hallway when someone called your name. You turned around to see him standing there. Your heart skipped a beat but it’s all because of the nervousness that you were feeling.

“Where did you go?” Sunghoon asked, approaching you but you walked away further, not until he grabbed you by your arms.

“Let me go Sunghoon,” you coldly said, which made Sunghoon let go.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, I thought you’re not going to make a scene?” he sarcastically stated, making you roll your eyes, seeing that it’s just you and him in the hallway.

“Says the guy who made a scene earlier,” you mocked.

It took a minute for Sunghoon to process what you said, eyebrows knitted as he looked at you with anger. “There’s nothing wrong with dancing with Wonyoung.”

You took a deep breath before facing him. “You like Wonyoung,”

There it is, the heavy feeling that you’ve been holding in ever since your best friend had returned.

You can see it. You’re not dumb to not observe it. Still, it hurts as much as you want to avoid it, you couldn’t ignore the way Sunghoon’s eyes light up whenever he talks to Wonyoung. How his voice becomes soft and gentle — something that he has never done to you, and never will he.

Tonight was the final nail. As you watch them dance together, it's hard to ignore that something was sparkling between the two of them, and you hate that the truth is there is. They would make such a better couple, a healthier couple if you must say.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Sunghoon asked, appalled.

“You can’t fool me Sunghoon, you like Wonyoung, I can see the way you look at her, like she’s everything to you,” you explained, and every word bites you, hurting you slowly like a venom trailing on your blood.

“I don’t like her,” Sunghoon confessed, and yet, he only stares at you deadpan. “But if I had the choice, I’ll marry her instead.”

For a moment you were quiet, then, a bitter laugh escaped your lips because the statement hurts more than Sunghoon actually having feelings for your best friend. “You really hate me, don’t you?”

“Hate is such a deep word y/n, I don’t hate you, we are just too different,” Sunghoon explained.

“I guess you and Wonyoung are much more similar to each other then,” you mocked.

“She supports my passion. She understands where I am coming from,” Sunghoon pointed out. “Something you never attempt to do.”

You only let out a deep sigh before staring at him one last time. You can feel it, the thumping beat of your heart, the short clasps of your breathing as you could only grasp on your hand tightly.

“If that’s the case Sunghoon, let's just end this engagement, nothing good will come out of this.”

Sunghoon looks at you confused, surprised that those words came out of your mouth. “What —”

“Hoon, I give up.” you confessed. “I am done cleaning up your mess, convincing you to focus on becoming a doctor while you go around playing in the band, getting drunk, and here you are, blatantly lying to your parents, acting like everything’s normal.”

“And who asked you to do that for me? No one, right? Admit it y/n, you’re just scared because the perfect life that you’ve planned was gone.” Sunghoon pointed out.

“You’re right Sunghoon, that’s why let’s stop this engagement. I don’t want to be married to a guy like you, and clearly you don’t want to marry me either.”

Sunghoon gives you a mocking smile. “A guy like me? Like I didn’t know your feelings for me, y/n,”

“The Sunghoon that I loved was the one who was diligent, dedicated, and nice. The one who was excited to study in Decelis to become a doctor. The one who makes me smile and cares for me. Not the drunkard asshole who’s chasing after a dream because suddenly, your life revolves around playing in the band.” you confessed, glaring at him one last time before walking away.

But it didn’t take Sunghoon a minute to reach after you, grabbing your arms and pulling you closer.

“You really think you can walk away from all of this?” Sunghoon demanded, which made you scoff.

“What is your problem!? Shouldn’t you be happy? You’re free now!” you shouted, pushing him on his chest, making him step backward and letting you go. That’s when you felt your body weakening, you could only hold on your knees as you felt something wet streaming down your eyes. You softly tap your eyes, not noticing how fast the tears streamed down your face.

This is the probably the first time you cried. You never cried when you fell from your bicycle. You never cried when you went second place on the honor’s list. You never cried when your parents lecture you. Crying is a sign of weakness for you and you know yourself, that you’re not weak.

You wanted to curse everything but only a mocking laugh was all you could do. You hated yourself for being vulnerable for a split second — that you cried because of Sunghoon. Of all the reasons that made you cry, it really has to be him.

That’s when you stood up, glancing at Sunghoon whose eyes widened to see your watery eyes. He tries to approach you but you only look away. That’s when you turned around, running towards the exit and leaving Sunghoon there frozen.

As soon as you reached your place, you went straight to your room and locked it. You leaned against the door as you deeply exhaled — but that’s where the first outburst came. You dropped to your knees, hands covering your face as you continued to wail. It goes on for so long until your breathing becomes slow, hiccups accompanying every sob that you leave your mouth.

You don’t feel anything but pain. It hurts. Everything just fucking hurts you. Watching Sunghoon be happy with someone else. Knowing the fact that he doesn’t want to marry you, and the dream of your perfect life was shattered in just a blink of the night.

Everything that you planned is now nowhere to be found. You hated that it all led to this mess, blaming yourself because maybe, there’s some ways where you could’ve prevented it. Maybe you shouldn’t have given up, this may be just a moment of weakness but hearing those words from Sunghoon, tells you that there’s no hope for everything to be fixed.

Now that everything is done, you could only grab your phone, and as you open it. Your mother’s caller id jumped on the screen. You stared at it for a good minute, but the thought of your mother being disappointed that you and Sunghoon fought, worse, you broke off the engagement scared you.

So you blocked her number and quickly dialled a number.

“Y/n? Hello?” Yizhuo’s sleepy voice answered.

“I’m sorry Ning but I need to crash into your place —”

“What, why? What happen —”

“I broke it off with Sunghoon.” you said, biting your lips to prevent the tears from falling again.

“What the fuck y/n!? Grabbing my keys right now, stay right there and I’m speeding to your place, give me ten minutes!” Yizhuo shouts.

The call hung-up immediately, which was your sign. You grabbed all the important stuff that you need. Your books, notes, a few clothes and a few toiletries that’ll last you. You still have a few months left before the semester ends, all you need to do is focus on your studies — if you fail to have a perfect marriage, you’re not letting your dream of becoming a doctor slip away too.

Dragging the luggage with you, you hear the car horn and as you step outside, you see the familiar white car Yizhuo owns.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Yizhuo said, grabbing your luggage and placing it on the back seat. You only sit in the passenger seat as you wait for your friend to enter the driver’s seat.

“You okay?” Yizhuo asked, gently patting your shoulder.

Tears started streaming down your face, you could only sob as your best friend pulled you for a hug.

“He’s not worth it y/n, you deserve someone better,” Yizhuo insisted as she broke out from the hug. “I know it’s hard for you because you love him, but are you really going to settle for less? If he truly cares for you, he’ll understand your side despite disliking the idea but he didn’t.”

You could only nod at her words, “I know, I give up Ning. I’m tired, he said he doesn’t want to marry me, so everything is useless.”

“He’s going to regret letting you go,” Yizhuo swore, starting the engine before patting your shoulder once again. “You can stay in my apartment as long as you want, don’t worry about anything, I got you in this one,” Yizhuo only smiled as you drove away from the place, and as you glanced at the rearview mirror, there it was — Sunghoon’s car.

You don’t know if he saw you leaving the place, but as you felt your phone vibrating and saw his name on your screen, you only closed your phone and glanced at the window of the car, staring at the places that you pass by, thinking that what you did was for your own good too.

Days after the party, you returned to Decelis University acting like everything’s normal.

You still did your routine, minimizing some tasks since you’re living under Yizhuo’s place and you don’t want to intrude furthermore. You had plans on renting a place on your own but it’ll be a few months until your semester break. This temporary housing of yours is better than enduring living with Sunghoon.

You still don’t know how to approach your parents with the situation, afraid that it might disappoint them, though your reason wherein it’s not your fault at all is strong, you’re still scared because you just ruin everything they have planned for you.

You only sent a short message to your father that you need time to think, before blocking his phone number too. You know that a lecture will await you, but for now, all you want is space from them. You wanted to focus on your goal without their expectations heaving on your back.

You continued going to your class. Preparations for the Decelis medical school entrance exam are near, and you’re multitasking your time doing your studies and reviewing for the exam. Despite the heavy pressure it had instilled, everything felt light for you, you felt your shoulders becoming lighter and your worries seemed to be fading day by day — perhaps it’s because you’re not worrying about Sunghoon anymore.

Sunghoon on the other hand, you don’t have any news about him. He doesn’t go to your classes either. It looks like he had made up his mind about his life, and whatever he does, you could only wish him good luck.

As you exit the department building, you hear a familiar voice calling out your name, turning around, your eyes immediately widened at the figure.

“Wonyoung, what are you doing here?” you asked, approaching your best friend who’s sitting on the gazebo in front of your department building.

“I’m sorry,” she started. “I’m sorry for ruining what you and Sunghoon had, but listen to me y/n, I don’t like Sunghoon, I treat him like a brother the same way I treat you like a sister. What he said to you was so fucking stupid.”

“You knew?” you asked, surprised.

“I went to your house the next day but Sunghoon’s the only one there. Everyone was worried y/n! They thought you two eloped, you disappeared without saying any word that night, plus you blocked auntie’s phone number.” Wonyoung explained.

“I’m sorry, I just — I needed space, my mind’s all over the place, but Wonyoung, I’m not mad at you, it’s not your fault anyway.”

“Sunghoon told me you broke off the engagement,” Wonyoung said. “Is it because of what he said?”

“He made it clear that he doesn’t want to marry me, so what’s the use Won?”

“You’re giving up now?” she asked. “You used to be persistent, y/n what happened?”

“Even I get tired sometimes, Won. Sunghoon…he’s a hopeless case. No matter how hard I tried to help him, he just didn't want my help.”

“He’s a mess right now, you know that?” Wonyoung stated. “He’s been looking for you.”

You halted because of Wonyoung’s words, but quickly, you threw her a bitter smile. “He has always been a mess Won,” you replied. “I’m just tired of picking up after him.”

Wonyoung merely nods, giving you a pitied smile as she brushes your hair, “I understand where you’re coming from y/n, I know it was also hard for you to decide to break the engagement.”

“Hopefully, it’ll pass,” you said softly. “You’re still going to be my maid of honor no matter who I’m going to marry.”

That made Wonyoung chuckle, which made you laugh, you hugged her once again and as you felt her arms wrapping around you, you felt relief.

You never wanted jealousy to corrupt your mind, but sometimes you couldn’t help but be insecure at how Wonyoung and Sunghoon’s relationship remained the same while him and yours disappeared in a glimpse. You know that Wonyoung’s not at fault in this one, everything was just a matter of fallout.

“Since you’re here already, why don’t we go out for dinner? Oh, I’ll introduce you to Ning! You’ll love her!” you suggested, immediately changing the topic.

“I’ve been dying to meet her!” Wonyoung replied, immediately tugging you so that you two can meet your other friend.

Turns out Wonyoung and Yizhuo are a two deadly duo. You were half-regretting introducing them to each other because now, they were insisting on going out for the night.

“Come on now, you don’t have any class for tomorrow and you should relieve your stress,” Yizhuo insisted.

“Really y/n? You’re going to graduate college without experiencing going out with your friends and partying? It’s a good thing I’m here because I am not taking a no for an answer,” Wonyoung added.

You only roll your eyes, “you know that clubs aren’t my thing.”

“That’s because you never experienced it! Come on now, you should loosen yourself up just for one night,” Yizhuo explained. “Please, you said you need space right? Why not relax? Just for tonight, forget about your parents, their expectations, and your studies. We’ll make it worth it.”

You only stared at the two of them, both with pleading eyes as they clasp their hands together. Another roll in your eyes was made but there’s a small smile on your face. “Fine, if I passed-out drunk, you guys take care of me.”

Both squealed in agreement, excited as Wonyoung fished out her phone to make a reservation at a famous club in the city center, while Yizhuo immediately dragged you towards the parking lot where her car is parked, excited to go home so that you can change into something daring (she said) and party all night.

The club was full by the time the three of you arrived, Wonyoung strutted on the small walkway, excusing the strangers as she held your hand while Yizhuo’s behind you, guiding your way towards your table.

A small table for three was reserved for you, a bottle of tequila with lemon and salt was arranged neatly there. As soon as you three reached the place, you immediately sat on the couch while Yizhuo opened the bottle.

“I hope you know how to take a shot,” she teasingly said as she poured the shot glass full.

“I know how to, you’re making me like I’m such a nerd that doesn’t go out of her house,” you insisted.

“She drinks, she just doesn’t like going out to clubs,” Wonyoung whispered to Yizhuo who glanced at you while you boredly raised an eyebrow.

“Well, we’re going to change that, cheers!” Yizhuo shouts, raising the glass which you and Wonyoung copied. The first shot of tequila went straight down on your throat, leaving a burning feeling downwards your chest which made you sneer for a second.

Shot after shot, you lost count the amount of times the three of you took a shot, the tequila bottle is almost half. Your mind has become hazy, spinning but you can manage it. All you can hear is the loud music coming from the speakers, the dj playing Taylor Swift’s songs which was so fucking random and yet, you didn’t care. You were singing your lungs out along with Wonyoung and Yizhuo who are also tipsy.

“Let’s hit the dance floor!” Yizhuo suggested when the song changed to some edm music, the three of you squeezed yourself on the dance floor, dancing and singing along as you bumped onto a few people, giving them smiles and small apologies while never stopping dancing.

You never felt more alive. You didn’t care what would happen tomorrow, all you cared about was that you’re having fun with the two girls that treat you like your sister. They were right, this is what you need and you’re just so happy that you agreed to go out with them.

That’s why you pulled them closer together, “I love you guys!” you shouted, which only made them laugh.

“Oh my gosh, she’s the emotional type of drunk,” Yizhuo giggled.

“She only says that when she’s drunk, so savor it,” Wonyoung replied, hugging you back. “I love you too!” making the three of you squeal together before breaking out to continue dancing.

You only let your body sway along with the music, not noticing a hand wrapping around your waist and as you turn around, you see a guy your age, smiling at you as he hands you his shot glass.

“No thank you,” you smiled, “I already have one.”

But he only laughed, “there’s no harm in having another one.”

You only let out a small giggle as you shrug, taking the shot and drinking it straight. You can hear his cheer, along with some guys that you’re unfamiliar with. You failed to notice Yizhuo and Wonyoung whereabouts as you continued to dance with the stranger.

“You come here often?” he asked, and you only shook your head.

“It’s too crowded here!” you shouted back. The place was getting hotter, crowds becoming bigger as the guy’s body became way too close to you.

“Crowded huh? Do you want to go somewhere less crowded?”

Maybe it was the alcohol — you don’t know, your head’s spinning and everything has become blurry to you, but all you can remember was that you nod at his answer. “Okay! I’m just going to tell my friends I’m leaving.”

“Alright sweetheart.” he smirked, his hold from your waist loosened.

You tried to find your friends, but your mind is spinning — you couldn’t even remember where your table was. Your head searched sideways, when you felt a tug on your arm, making you turn around.

“She’s not going with you,” Sunghoon said with a cold tone.

“Dude fuck off, go pick some other girls around here,” the stranger tried to pull you away but Sunghoon was fast, immediately backing you behind him.

“She’s my fiance, if you don’t want any trouble, get lost,” Sunghoon warns.

“Fuck off Sunghoon,” you rebutted, shaking your grip away from Sunghoon who was surprised by your action. “We’re through, remember?”

The stranger chuckled, “she doesn’t even want you here, so fuck off, will ya?”

But it didn’t take a split second for Sunghoon to hit him on the face. His fist landing directly on the nose which made the stranger stumble down.

Everyone was surprised when the guy fell on the ground, immediately stepping out from the fight. Sunghoon attempted to give the guy another punch but Heeseung and Jay managed to grab him. You didn’t process everything until you felt Wonyoung and Yunjin were behind you.

“What happened — Sunghoon!” Wonyoung shrieks. The stranger stood up from the ground, but Sunghoon was quick to get away from his friend and charge towards him, landing another punch, and if it wasn’t enough, he landed another, this time harder.

It didn’t take a minute for the bouncers to enter the scene, separating the two of them. You weren’t able to understand anything, all you know was that your friends pulled you out of the club along with Sunghoon and his friends.

“Dude calm down,” Heeseung said trying to keep his friend still but Sunghoon pulled away, almost jabbing his friend who only stepped back with hands raised.

“How can I fucking calm down when y/n almost got in danger tonight!?” he pointed out.

“You almost killed someone!” Jay shouted, trying to get a grip on Sunghoon but he got pushed away too.

“He should be lucky because I hold back a little bit,” Sunghoon sarcastically laughs. “He deserves it, the way he looked at y/n? I know he has bad intentions.”

“Stop caring Sunghoon!” you shouted, senses finally hitting you. “So what if I’ll go with that guy? We’re done, remember? I can meet whoever I like.”

“I don’t care if we’re through, you couldn’t even take care of yourself. What the fuck are you even doing at a club?” Sunghoon lectured.

That’s when you scoff, “just because you can have fun, doesn’t me I can.”

“Oh, so that’s your idea of fun? Getting drugged by a stranger and who knows what they’ll do to you — fucking careless,” Sunghoon lets out a deep sigh, his anger heightening as he glared at Wonyoung.

“If it wasn’t for me, she would’ve been in danger tonight, what the hell Won!?” Sunghoon angrily lectures.

“Sunghoon stop blaming us, we were there and we were just letting y/n have fun, we’re not that stupid to let her go with that guy. You just really have to interfere first,” Wonyoung explained, forehead creased with anger.

Sunghoon could only roll his eyes, groaning as he frustratedly brushed his hair. “This is fucking stupid, you three aren’t even safe there!”

“Just go home Sunghoon,” you shouted once again, making him glance at you. “You’re ruining our night for fuck’s sake.”

But in a split second, Sunghoon pulls you away from Yizhuo, and before you could say another thing, he grabs you by your knees and swings you on his shoulders, your upper body bumping on his back.

“Sunghoon! Put me down!” you shouted, punching his back but Sunghoon remained unfazed, he then glanced at his friends who were surprised by his action.

“No one follows, this is between the two of us,” Sunghoon warned before he walked towards his car.

You tried to struggle your way out of his hold, but Sunghoon’s too strong for you. He managed to put you in the passenger seat, even putting on the belt on you.

“Sunghoon —”

“Stop struggling y/n, we’ll go home now.”

“Sunghoon, what fuck is wrong with you? We’re done, how many times do I have to tell you that!?” you shouted at him. “You’re suffocating me.”

“And so do I with you, but we can’t always have what we want.” Sunghoon stated, slamming the door of the car. You weren’t able to say another word, not knowing what he meant by that.

The drive towards your place was quiet yet tense, you could only close your eyes as the throbbing feeling in your head started to become worse. You had too many to drink but all you know that what the guy gave you was just a normal shot. If it would’ve been drugged, then you should’ve been passed-out by now.

As Sunghoon parked the car inside, you could only stare at the entrance of the house. You do miss your house but there’s a deep feeling of pain lingering in your heart as it reminds you of Sunghoon. You didn’t even notice that Sunghoon had opened the door for you, and you mindlessly left the car.

Entering the living room, you only stood there as you stare at the place — Sunghoon had maintained it clean even though you left, surprising you since you spent your mornings cleaning the house.

You can hear the door closing, softly Sunghoon’s footsteps approach you but he stops midway. That’s when you realized how suffocating the emptiness the house had.

“What is this Sunghoon?” you immediately asked, not even bothering looking at him.

“I just took you home,” Sunghoon simply said and you wanted to laugh. Home. you knew that home meant a lively house with a loving family, not a tense one with a broken engagement.

“Sunghoon, since it still hasn’t sunk in your mind, our engagement is done, isn’t that what you want?” you repeated.

“Well, did you even tell that to your parents?” Sunghoon asked casually. “My parents don’t know it yet.”

You didn’t answer and Sunghoon immediately knew.

“Of course you haven’t,” he teased. “That technically means we’re still engaged to each other.”

You only closed your eyes, trying to compose yourself as you felt conflicted. “I don’t understand you Sunghoon, what do you even want? You made it very clear back then that you’d prefer to marry Wonyoung instead of me. Why bring me here again!?”

“I don’t know,” Sunghoon confessed. “It’s just…it’s so lonely here.”

“I’m not a doll that you can keep,” you heaved.

“I miss you.” he breathes, and your eyes widen but you could only let out a bitter laugh.

“Suddenly you miss me? Sunghoon the last time you told me, you don’t want to marry me. Shouldn’t you be happy that we’re done.”

“That doesn’t equate to the fact that I don’t want to call off the engagement,” he stated.

“You’re confusing me Sunghoon, stand your ground, you don’t want to marry me but you don’t want the engagement to be broken? What do you even want?”

“I was hoping that your mind might change,” Sunghoon said, almost pleading. “That somewhere in you, there’s that girl who first recognized my talent.”

Silence. You weren’t able to say another word. Slowly, you turned around to see him standing there. His gaze at you gentle and pleading, far different from the looks he gave to you.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Sunghoon told you. “Do you remember what you told me?”

Of course. “You have a talent for playing the piano!” you recalled. It was the first thing you said when both your parents introduced you to Sunghoon. It didn’t sinked into you that those words of your younger self would stick in Sunghoon’s mind.

“When I first joined the band, I thought you’ll be supportive because you’re the first one to recognize my love for playing the piano, but nothing,” Sunghoon chuckles bitterly. “I was hoping that someday, you would understand why I am chasing after my passion. That’s why I was so happy that you watched our performance that night — but you’re too stuck in that dream of yours to recognize it.”

“It’s not just a dream Hoon, it's what's expected from me, and being a doctor, that’s what’s also expected from you.”

“Have you ever thought of what you want? Are you just going to wake up everyday, listen to your parents’ expectations and follow it? Do you have any idea how sad that is?”

“I’m my parents’ only daughter, who else is going to make them proud aside from me?” you bitterly said. “And I want this too Hoon, so I’m sorry if my dream isn’t in the form of a passion unlike yours.”

“You’re not going to change your mind aren’t you?” Sunghoon mumbled. “I only pursued my passion and suddenly I’m not fit for your life anymore?”

“It’s not just about having a perfect life, Hoon. My parents wanted me to marry a doctor, and I’m not going to push you anymore when it’s obvious that your heart beats for your passion.” you explained.

“What about your heart then? What does your heart yearn for? You’re not going to fight for me anymore?” he said, almost pleading. A desperate turn in his tone shifted in you.

“I’m done fighting for you Hoon,” you bitterly smiled. “Why are you suddenly asking me all of this?”

“You’re done with me? That’s it?”

“Sunghoon, I’m really, really tired with everything.” you pleaded. “We’re just going to hurt each other the more we stay in this engagement.”

Sunghoon only stared at you. For a moment, he wanted to rebut your words. He wanted for you to fight furthermore because he knows you. You’re hard-headed, you’re not the type that won’t give up easily. But as he looks in your eyes, all he can is your desperation, eyes that scream for him that you’re tired of everything.

“You’re really tired aren’t you?” he asked once again.

“Just let me go Hoon, please.” you whispered.

“Fine,” he said, defeated. “Only if you stay for the night.”

“What?” you asked, his request was sudden.

“Stay for the night, for me,” he said, almost pleading. “After this, I won’t disturb you anymore. Please, just stay for tonight.”

It didn’t sink in everything he said, you could only stare at him, eyes wide as you can see how his eyes were almost begging for you.

“I just…miss you so much,” he whispered. “But after this, we’re done. I’m going to tell my parents that we’re breaking off the engagement.”

“Okay,” you said in defeat, and Sunghoon could only nod. He grabs your hand and you let him do so.

You found yourself in his room. The silence was engulfing, you stood there clueless as Sunghoon opened his closet, grabbing a shirt and pajamas for you — like you didn’t have any clothes left in your room next door. But you let it be, grabbing the clothes and going towards his bedroom’s bathroom.

You can feel your heart beating fast. You were nervous, you don’t know what to do since this is the first time you and Sunghoon will sleep together. Sure, you had sleepovers back when you were kids, but those were the three of you. This one is just going to be the two of you, alone, in one bed.

But that’s his only request, when tomorrow comes, everything will be over now. It’s not like you two are going to do something, Sunghoon only wishes for you to stay for the night.

As you entered the room, you saw Sunghoon sitting on the edge of his bed, already in his sleeping clothes. He only stretched out his hands which you accepted and softly, he pulled you to his bed.

“Let’s go to sleep?” he asked, almost inaudible. You only nod at his request and with that, the two of you settled underneath the blankets. You couldn’t even move, you had your back against Sunghoon and you wondered if he’s already asleep or not.

It was as if he had read your mind, you felt Sunghoon shifted from his place — and in a second, warm arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer. Your breath halted as his hug tightened, your back almost resting on his chest, like he’s never wanting to let you go. It left you even more confused than ever, you two were never this intimate, and this will probably be the last time you two will be.

“Goodnight y/n,” he whispered, and you can feel his lips touching the top of your head.

Goodnight Sunghoon. You said in your mind.

“I’m sorry for everything.” Sunghoon mumbled, barely audible.

You only closed your eyes, taking a long deep breath to hold yourself from crying. You wondered why he suddenly apologized. Why now? When everything is bound to be over. But you didn’t say a word, you tried to sleep instead, knowing that there’s no will inside you left to fight for yourself and Sunghoon.

Goodbye Sunghoon.

The first semester has ended. The weather has become cold as fall passes by. Decelis University has slowly become empty with students going home to their hometown.

The remaining months of your semester became a blur to you. You passed all your courses with ease and you managed to receive an academic honor for it. Emails from medical school offers had been appearing in your emails too, which meant that you’re secured to attend med school after graduation. Everything has been good to you — you got everything you need.

When you returned to your hometown, your parents spared you. They told you that they understand why you did it, letting it pass since you didn’t abandon your studies at all. They learned from Sunghoon’s parents that the engagement was called off. They didn’t ask you furthermore about it, and you could do nothing but to apologize not only to your parents but also to the Park family. Disappointment runs through your mind, especially when Sunghoon’s parents trusted you with their son — only for you to fail them.

A knock on the door disturbed your day, as you turned around you saw your parents entering your room.

“Still studying dear? You’re doing too much now y/n,” your mom softly said, sitting on the edge of the bed along with your father.

But you only smile, “I want to make sure that I’ll be able to pass Decelis’ entrance exam for medical school, you told me that the passing rate there is small.”

“Yes I know that sweetie but you’re doing too much, why don’t you do something else aside from studying?” your father suggested.

But you only let out a laugh, “I'm all good dad, thanks for the concern though.”

“Have you ever thought of doing something else y/n? Something that you love?” your mom asked. That’s when you dropped your book, glancing at the two of them.

“Love?”

“A hobby, what about tennis? You’re great at that sport, maybe you can be an athlete,” your mom happily said.

“Oh, I do remember that you used to do ballet, I think you still have the skills sweetie,” your father added, which left you confused but chuckling.

“Mom, dad, what is this all about?” you asked. Silence hovered in the room for a minute, both your parents looked at each other, trying to signal each other who should talk, which left your mother sighing.

“Maybe, we shouldn’t have pushed you too hard to become a doctor,” your mother pointed out. “And it’s okay for us if you don’t want —”

“I want to become a doctor mom, that has always been my dream,” you rebutted, shifting your focus on your book. “I’m okay, don’t worry about me.”

“We had a talk with Sunghoon’s parents,” that’s when you stopped, glancing at them once again. “They explained why you two called it off.”

“Okay,” you shortly replied. You remember that night where you and Sunghoon slept together. His apology still lingers in your mind. There’s a part of you that wanted to know what he was sorry for.

But the more you stay there, the more the pain deepens in your heart. You slipped away from his hold the next morning, and starting that day, you never heard anything from Sunghoon.

He didn’t show up to any of his classes. He just disappeared like a bubble. Wonyoung told you that he doesn’t reply to her texts either. You don’t know if he continued performing in Arcanum, or did he ghost his band members. It’s funny how even though you two are already over, you still have a bit of concern for him.

“Sweetie, we understand Sunghoon. He chose his dream and maybe it was a little disappointing for you because you always dream that you and Sunghoon will become doctors together, but there will come a point where your dream will change.” your father explained. “Sunghoon just so happens to rekindle his passion for music, it happens.”

“And there’s nothing I can do about it,” you told them. “That’s why there’s no reason for the engagement to continue.”

“We shouldn’t have pressured you to become a doctor,” your mother insisted. “We were wrong in that part, and we’re very sorry about it dear.”

“Mom, even if you don’t pressure me, I still want to become a doctor no matter what, I will follow your footsteps, so don’t be sorry about it.”

“It’s not just about becoming a doctor,” your father pointed out. “It’s about your engagement with Sunghoon, we shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s already over, so you shouldn’t worry about it.”

“Listen y/n, when we set you and Sunghoon to marry, it’s not for our business to emerge. We just knew that you two love each other.” your father explained, hand resting on your knees. The old man faintly smiles at you. “You two were too young to understand it, but it was also our fault for putting so much expectations on the two of you — we should’ve let you two navigate your feelings on your own.”

“But you said, I should marry a doctor,” you pointed out. “I always knew that it’s going to be Sunghoon, but he changed dad. If he can’t be the one, I’ll just find someone in med school.”

“Oh sweetie, we’re terribly sorry for saying that,” that’s when your mother pulls you to a hug. “But we still want you to marry for love, and dear, it’s not always about his profession, but how he’s going to treat you as your husband.”

“Why now? Why say that to me all of the sudden?” you questioned, breaking out from your mother’s touch.

“We didn’t think it’ll come to this point —”

“No, because from the very start you two insisted that I should marry a doctor because that’s what you two wanted for me! I was lucky that Sunghoon wanted to become a doctor but when he changed his dreams, I did everything just for him to go back!” you shouted.

Both your parents were surprised to hear your voice raise. You stood there, shaking as tears started to flow from your eyes once again.

“I did everything in my life just to please your expectations because I know that you two always know what’s best for me, and I didn’t want to fail you guys. But now, I feel so stupid because suddenly, I have the freedom to choose what I want,” a bitter laugh escapes your mouth, you brushed your hair as you bit your lips. Trying to stop the tears from falling.

“I even roped Sunghoon in my dreams because that’s what you guys want for me, and I was scared of disappointing you two if he didn’t become a doctor — you could’ve told me from the start! Then maybe, I could’ve supported Sunghoon instead of suffocating him.”

Your parents remained quiet. Sitting there as they watch their daughter cry. Both of them were surprised, never thinking they’ll see you cry. You have always been a strong girl for them, but then again, everyone crumbles.

“We can still fix it dear,” your mother insisted.

“It’s too late now mom,” you answered. “It’s not just about the engagement, Sunghoon and I, we’re done with everything. We spent our lives living up to your expectations, and this is the only time we made a choice for ourselves.”

Before they could say anything. You scurried to grab your phone and jacket, storming out of your room as your parents couldn’t do anything but watch you disappear from their sight.

You found yourself at the small playground near your house. Sitting on the end of the slide as you hiccup your cries.

You hate your parents and how their mind suddenly changed in a glimpse. Marry for love? Love was never the problem for you, it was the fact that they spent your whole life shaping you into an ideal life only for them to take it back. You’ll marry for love in a heartbeat but it never crossed your mind because their expectations came first.

If only. You could only think of the what-ifs because somehow, you spent your whole life making your parents proud — that you couldn’t even make a choice on your own. “Do you have any idea how sad that is?” you remember Sunghoon’s words to you, making you close your eyes as tears continued to flow along with your soft sobs.

Sunghoon’s right. All your life you did your best to follow your parents’ footsteps, never tried to navigate other hobbies or passions — perhaps that’s why you weren’t able to understand Sunghoon’s dreams at all. You suddenly felt lost, not knowing what to do with your life anymore. Sunghoon and Wonyoung, they’ll be choosing the things they love.

What about you? You don’t know anymore, you don’t even know if becoming a doctor is what you want — or it’s just something that has been engraved to you by your parents that you learned to love it somehow.

“y/n?” You looked up and to your surprise, Sunghoon’s mother was standing in front of you.

“Auntie,” you quickly stood up and wiped the tears away. “What brings you here?”

“I was supposed to visit you today,” she said with a soft tone. “But I caught you here on the way, is there something wrong?”

You immediately fake a smile, even though your nose was runny and eyes are puffy red, you tried your best to assure the woman that you’re okay. But she simply shakes her head before patting your head.

“Come on, let’s have a talk.”

You two ended up in a small coffee shop nearby. You watch as Mrs. Park lightly sips on her tea, before glancing at you. She then smiles, and you can see where Sunghoon got his eye smile, and somehow, that comforts you.

“When Sunghoon told us that he wanted to play for a band instead, we were disappointed,” Mrs. Park explained. “His dad was furious, but what else can we do? Stop him from doing what he loves?”

You only remained quiet, listening to Mrs. Park as she softly chuckled. “As parents, we only want what’s best for our children, but it’s still up to them to choose their future. For Sunghoon, we let him be, it’s what he wants.”

Then, she glances at you. “You know, Sunghoon broke the engagement because he doesn’t want to hurt you anymore?”

“I’m sorry I gave up on him.” you apologized immediately. “We — we’re just too different auntie.”

“Well, opposites do attract my dear,” she jokingly said, making you let out a small chuckle. From there, her expression softens. Looking at you pitifully, the woman can see the stress you went through and it breaks her heart, knowing that they were the reasons why you’re like that.

“You’ve done a lot for my son y/n, and I am thankful for that,” Mrs. Park smiles. “You’ll be a great wife for him, someone who’ll come to knock his senses but — everyone gets tired sometimes.”

You only smile at her, but Mrs. Park’s eyes glistened with a meaningful smile on her lips. “That’s why it’s important to rest, everything is not the end just because you were tired.”

You became quiet because of her words. Mrs. Park stretches her hand, holding your hand as she squeezed it lightly. “Just rest dear, take your time for yourself, everything is not too late.”

“But —”

“Listen to your heart this time dear, only your heart knows what’s truly best for you.”

You returned to your shared house a week before the next semester started.

The moment you opened the door, you were welcomed by its hollow silence, making you bitterly smile because you do miss the silence — and you’ll miss it more now that it won’t be the place you’ll go home to.

Slowly, you opened your room and noticed that it was the same as how you left it the night you ran away. Sunghoon didn’t touch any of it, and you were glad that he didn’t. You didn’t waste any time, you grabbed the luggage that you brought with you, packing all the things that you have in your room.

You spent the day packing your things. Neatly folding everything, and stacking it inside your storage box. You managed to finish it before sunset, going back and forth to load it inside your car. And with one last glance in the empty room, you could only mutter goodbye as you dragged your luggage with you.

But as soon as you reach the living room, you hear the doorknob unlocking, making you stop. You can feel your heart starting to beat fast, praying that it won’t be him.

“Y/n?” you saw how Sunghoon’s eyes widened as he saw you, but his eyes immediately darted at the luggage that you were holding.

You only took a deep breath before giving him a smile, “I just came by to grab my things.”

“Wait, wait — why?” Sunghoon hurriedly went towards you, hands grabbing your arm.

“Our engagement’s over Sunghoon, so there’s no need for us to be together,” you gritted your teeth. Every word felt like a knife stabbing inside you.

“Y/n, can you just listen to me —”

“Sunghoon stop, there’s nothing for us to talk about.”

“You know that everything’s not too late right? We can still fix it.”

“What’s to fix Sunghoon?” you asked. “I thought we made it clear that we’re done.”

“If you’re done fighting for me, then I’m fighting for you now,” Sunghoon insisted, grabbing you by your shoulders. You tried to get out of his hold but he tightens his hold on you.

“Why now Hoon? Where were you, when I was fighting for everything? You can’t just enter my life and expect me to accept you immediately —”

“I love you okay!?” he shouted, completely shutting you off. Eyes wide from the sudden confession.

Sunghoon looks at you, his eyes stressed and dark, yet it screams for your plea. “I’m sorry that I realized my feelings just now, I know I was late but it’s never too late for us, just listen to me —”

“Hoon stop —”

“Y/n, just for once why don’t you listen to your heart?” Sunghoon stated. “You know deep inside, that it’s not too late for us to fix it. Your parents, my parents, they know that it’s not too late, it’s only you who doesn’t want to —"

“Because I’m scared, Hoon!” you shouted, shutting Sunghoon off.

“I don’t know what to do with my life anymore Hoon and that fucking scares me. Suddenly I have my own freedom and I don’t know whether my decisions will be right or wrong. If I end up choosing what my heart wants, I might just ended up failing myself”

“You know you don’t always need to be perfect right?” Sunghoon whispered to you. “People make mistakes y/n, we’re flawed, and there’s nothing wrong with making mistakes.”

You only shake your head. “I don’t know Hoon, I don’t know what I should do anymore.”

“Just listen to your heart,” The hold on your shoulders tightens. “Go for the things you love, not because it’s what your parents taught you, or because it’s what’s for the best. You know this y/n, what do you want?”

You. You thought. In a heartbeat, it has always been Sunghoon. Despite all the mess, the rough paths, and fights you two had. In the end, your heart beats for him.

And as you look at him, there were no longer cold gaze and emptiness in his eyes, his eyes yearn for you too. The years of your unrequited love for him are over now.

“It’s you Hoon,” you mumbled, a bite on your lips as you started stuttering. “I’m just afraid after everything that happened to us.”

“We can work it out, we may have started on a rough path but I know that we can make it through.” he deeply sighs. “I’m sorry for everything, I know I said some harsh words but I was angry at that time, I’m sorry y/n, I was just frustrated but I didn’t mean every word that I said, it has always been you,”

You only stared at him, “how can I trust you Sunghoon?”

“Let me make it up to you y/n,” he swore, hands finding its way to your face. “If you let me, I’ll prove it to you.”

“How? How can I be so sure about you?”

“We’ll start again y/n, don’t worry about us, we’ll navigate this together, I won’t hurt you anymore.” Sunghoon promised. “Just be with me okay? You’ll be there for me right?”

You only stared at Sunghoon. He has his lips tightly sealed, his eyes were searching for yours, the same eyes that yearned for you that night. Your heart started beating faster, and you weren’t able to process that tears are starting to fall from your eyes. Your mind was telling you to run away again, but your heart — it beats for him.

You don’t know what to say, you only nod at his words. That’s when Sunghoon understood what you meant. Slowly he leans in, closing the space between the two of you.

You always thought that your first kiss with Sunghoon would be at your wedding. After you two exchange vows. It'll be short yet momentary. Significant in your life and a symbol that you and Sunghoon are going to be together, forever.

But as he kissed you right now after swearing to prove his worth for you, that’s when it halted you that Sunghoon’s words weren’t just empty promises. The way his lips trailed on yours, hands holding your face gently as he tilts more to deepen the kiss — making you kiss him back, softly yet surely.

You two weren’t wearing your wedding clothes, no rings, nor applauses from the crowd. It’s just the two of you, alone, in your house’ living room.

As you two broke from the kiss, Sunghoon’s forehead rested on yours, catching each other’s breath, you can see the small smile forming on Sunghoon’s lips.

“Tell me it’s true Sunghoon,” you whispered to him, eyes never leaving him. “I want to hear it from you.”

“I love you y/n,” Sunghoon confesses. “It has always been you, and no one else.”

You could only chuckle in disbelief as you felt a tear fall from your eyes, Sunghoon quickly wiped it off with his thumb before pulling you for another kiss, to which you responded quickly. From there, everything started to heat up, you could only place your arms around Sunghoon’s neck as you two continued to kiss like there’s no tomorrow.

Sunghoon didn’t waste any second. He grabs you by your thighs, lifting you up with ease without breaking the kiss, while you wrap your legs around his waist for support. The two of you ended up in his room wherein he gently placed you down to his bed.

“Are you sure about this?” he softly asked, eyes never leaving yours. He looks at you lovingly, like he was mesmerized that you’re his.

“I’m sure,” you answered. “And I’m sure that it’s going to be you Sunghoon.”

“I’ll take good care of you then,” Sunghoon answered before leaning down for another kiss. You only closed your eyes and kissed Sunghoon back.

You can feel it. The longing of tasting each other. The way Sunghoon kisses you gently, taking his time to savor you as he deepens his lips on you more. Soft nibbles on your lower lip making you whimper softly.

It went on and on, no one dared to break the kiss. Both hands trying to navigate each other. His right hand finds its way to yours, clasping between your fingers as he rests it on the side of your head.

Sunghoon breaks from the kiss, but immediately places his lips on your jawline until it reaches your neck. Planting soft kisses like he wanted to taste every skin of yours. His left hand finds its way to your body, gently tracing your upper body as you grasp on his sheets.

“Can I?” he asked, tugging at the hem of your shirt, which you nodded feverishly. You lifted yourself slightly for Sunghoon to remove your shirt before removing his shirt too. His toned body, and carved abs revealed in front of you which you could only stare for a minute. Who would’ve thought that underneath those baggy hoodies and large shirts, is a godlike body?

On the other hand, Sunghoon didn’t waste any time, he grabs your face once again, locking you to a kiss that’s more intense, hungrier than earlier. He was battling to get a taste of you more, tongue swiping on your lower lip making you moan, you could only shut your eyes as Sunghoon sloppily entered his tongue inside you.

Teeths clashing, tongue travelling inside you, your body started to heat up as Sunghoon continued to taste your lips further. He then started targeting your neck, making you tilt your head to make room for him. Hot, messy, wet kisses trailing on every skin his lips could reach. You let out a soft moan as Sunghoon’s hands trailed towards your bra, softly cupping your breast while his lips continued to bite your neck, sucking it lightly leaving purple marks all over it.

“So beautiful, only for me right?” he whispered to your left ear, planting a kiss on it before glancing at you.

“Only for you Hoon,” you whispered back, Sunghoon merely chuckling before darting his eyes on your lower body.

“Is this your first?” he asked, you only nod.

“Been waiting for you.” you muttered, and the next thing you knew, Sunghoon’s lips were on yours once again.

“Good girl, we’ll make it worth it yeah?” Sunghoon asked. “It’ll be special for us, we’ll be each other’s first. I told you I’ll prove my worth to you.”

Sunghoon gently unbuttons your pants before tugging it downwards, leaving you in your panties while he hastily removes his shorts, leaving him in his boxers.

“Come here love,” he gestured as he sat on the mattress, you only followed him as he pulled you to sit on his lap. A gasp leaving your lips as you could only hold your breath, feeling Sunghoon hard underneath. He’s big. You can feel it as you sit prettily on it, your clothed cunt just right above it.

Your thoughts only trailed off as Sunghoon continued to kiss you, hands attempting to unclasp your bra which made you chuckle in the middle of your makeout. You helped him unclasp it before throwing the bra somewhere.

“So fucking gorgeous for me,” Sunghoon gestured. His hands started circling on your boobs, cupping your right side making you whimper. Sunghoon's eyes never leaving yours as his hands trailed downwards, fingers tracing every skin of your body until it reached the hem of your panties.

“Is it okay?” he asked.

“Please Sunghoon,” you pleaded, unable to ignore the heat that you’ve been feeling.

Sunghoon’s fingers delicately feather on your clothed pussy. You softly moan as his palms cup it, rubbing on it as the slightest friction heats you furthermore. You wanted more, unknowingly you bucked your hips to his hand. Sunghoon fastens the way he rubs your pussy as you continue grinding against it.

“Sunghoon —”

“Do you want to touch mine too?” he asked, tone deeper than usual. You only stared at him for a good minute before you nod.

Sunghoon grabs your hand, gently guides it until your palm rests on his hard-on. It’s straining underneath his boxer, and just from your touch, you know that one hand wasn’t enough. You palmed it slowly, hearing soft breathing Sunghoon which fueled something in you.

“Can I do it?” you asked, your hands trailing on the hem of his boxer.

“Go on love,” he whispered, planting a kiss on your temple.

You pulled Sunghoon’s boxer, his hard length springing from it. Hard and thick, you looked at Sunghoon as you wrapped your hands around it, and you’re right, one hand isn’t enough. Your hands reach its tip, the pre-cum budding on its end, having you smear it as you circled your palms on his tip.

You watched as Sunghoon looked at you darkly. A faint smirk on his lips as you felt his fingers slipped under your panties, you let out a soft moan as his fingers found their way on your pussy. Softly trailing on its lips before going up to your clit, three fingers circling it slowly which made you twitch for a second.

Your hands started to stroke Sunghoon’s cock, slow and steady like you're memorizing every inch of it. It goes the same with him as he continues to rub your clit, harder leaving you breathless as you continue to pump his cock faster, squeezing his tip at every chance that you can. Earning breathy groans from him.

“Going to prepare you love, just breathe for me okay?” Sunghoon instructed and you could only moan in response. Your other hand found its hold on his shoulders, head resting on it as you nervously can feel his fingers near your entrance.

“You’re so wet for me, so fucking good,” he whispered to you, before slipping inside your pussy. You let out a deep sigh as his index finger rested inside you. “Just relax for me okay?” slowly he drags his fingers in and out, watching you fall in front of him as you couldn’t do anything but to leave breathy moans.

“Sunghoon —” you called out as you could feel him insert another finger inside you, the sudden move made you squeeze his dick hard, making Sunghoon curse under his breath. You mindlessly continued to stroke it as Sunghoon’s fingers circled inside you.

“Relax for me love, we don’t want to hurt you,” Sunghoon assured, kissing your right temple as he continued to finger you. It’s playing inside you, knuckles deep as his long fingers kept pumping inside you, curling at a spot that you feel sensitive the most. He’s stretching you, trying his best to prepare you, his fingers continue to scissor your walls at a right pace, reaching deep inside you.

“I want to come,” you mumbled as you could feel it coming inside you. Your hands gave up on stroking his dick, which made Sunghoon slow down his actions.

“You’re going to come with me inside, can you do that?” you quickly nod in his words, kissing his lips as he removed his fingers from you. You didn’t miss the way your pussy ached, but Sunghoon was quick to grab your waist.

Gently, he lays you down on his bed, and you watch as he reaches for his bedroom’s drawer, pulling the upper box and scavenging something there.

“Why —”

“Just making sure we’re safe,” Sunghoon told you.

“Yeah, but why do you have that…” you mindlessly asked, heat rushing towards your cheeks as you stared at Sunghoon.

“Heeseung gave it to me as a joke —” Sunghoon groans, embarrassed. “But at least we’re safe, right?”

“Right,” you whispered, leaning more against the pillow.

Sunghoon removes his boxer. Your eyes wandered at his cock again, hard and lengthy, you could only bite your lips as you wondered how it would fit you. Sunghoon eyes on you, like he's ready to devour as he pumps his cock with his right hand while he bites on the foil packet, tearing it open and grabbing the condom, sheathing it on his already sensitive cock.

Both of you never left each other’s gaze, you lifted your lower body for you to remove your panties, shamelessly spreading your legs in front of him. Your heart started to beat fast, nervousness started to hit you, but you were only assured when Sunghoon planted another kiss on your lips.

“Take a deep breath for me, okay? I’ll put on the tip first,” he guided you. You only nod at his words, laying back as you try to relax yourself.

Sunghoon could only bite his lips as he stared at you, legs spread with your glistening pussy on display. You’re his. You’re his to keep. Something about that thought had Sunghoon’s heart racing, unraveling a feeling of having you all by himself.

Sunghoon kneels in front of you, hands on your thighs as he hovers over you. He grabs his cock, stroking it steadily making him hiss lightly, at the same time, he grazes it on your cunt’s lips, making you moan.

You took a deep breath as you felt Sunghoon’s dick on your entrance, its girth enough for you to whimper even though it was just a tip. Sunghoon kept on glancing at you, trying to test if you can take it, careful as he pushed his tip inside you, making you let out a soft groan.

“Fuck Hoon,” you said, feeling your entrance tearing apart.

“It’s just my tip love,” Sunghoon told you, “we can stop if you want —”

“No, no, I want it,” you let out a sigh. “Please, just go slowly.”

“You want it all inside?” Sunghoon asked, eyes wide.

“I want to feel you, Hoon.”

Sunghoon was hesitant, seeing your eyes start to water, he was scared. You noticed the way his expression shifted, quickly pulling him for a short kiss with your eyes firm on him. There, he was assured, a short nod as a signal.

“Alright, relax for me okay? We’ll take it slow.”

Sunghoon started slow. Only pushing his tip in and out, so that you can still feel good. Then, he started to insert himself inside you, slow and careful while you could only take hasty breaths, holding it every time you felt yourself getting stretched.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Sunghoon whispered. “So small and tight, you really waited for me huh?”

“Hoon —”

“It’s okay baby, I can move if you want me to,” Sunghoon assured.

You tried to adjust to his size, you’re too full and his dick’s fully sheathed inside you, but it feels good, you wanted more of him. You tried to move, bucking your hips upwards to test the waters, making Sunghoon glance at you.

“You wanted it baby?” he asked, before spreading your legs wider, wrapping it around his waist as he hovered over you.

“You can move now Hoon,” you said.

Sunghoon moved for a bit, carefully checking on you in case you might get hurt. But you quickly nodded, he pulled his dick out of your pussy, eyes surprised as the blood smeared all over the condom. It’s normal. He thought, but it still made him worried.

“I think I tore you,” he mumbled to you.

“I don’t care,” you replied. “Fuck, just put it in Hoon.”

With that, Sunghoon chuckles darkly. “Impatient already?”

Without a warning, Sunghoon pushes himself inside you, making you heave out a moan. A mouthful of curses leaving his lips as he started to thrust himself inside you. A steady pace that’s not rough enough for you but will leave you crying out of pleasure. He continued doing so, until he fastened his pace, too lost in the pleasure of his cock ramming your walls. Sunghoon could only utterly groan as your pussy continued sucking him in.

“Only for me —” Sunghoon moans. “So tight for me, there’s my good girl.”

“Hoon —”

“Want me to go faster? Want to take all of me?”

“Please — ugh, faster please.”

Sunghoon answers your pleas, grabbing your waist, lifting your stomach area, and in a second, he pulls his cock slowly and slams it inside you harshly, making you moan loudly as the pleasure was too much for you. Hands tightly gripping the sheets as your toes started to curl. Only wanton moans and Sunghoon’s names would leave out of your lips, calling his name like a mantra as his dick keeps on abusing your hole, reaching to the deepest part, feeling how his tip rubs a sensitive spot.

“Hoon, want you —” you called out, stretching your hands which Sunghoon eagerly accepted. Both hands intertwined, placed both either on the sides of your head as Sunghoon continued to thrust inside you.

Sunghoon locks his lips on you once again. A feverish makeout, making everything hot yet intimate as both your bodies were glued together. Skin to skin, not minding the warm temperature the room exceeds and how sticky both you are with your sweats. All that matters was how he kisses your lips like it’s his last meal on Earth, savoring the taste of it while his cock underneath fastens its pace.

“You’re so beautiful, all mine right?” he growled on your lips, making a short thrust which left you gasping. He can feel it, your pussy tightening, almost wanting for him to not leave, he continues to thrust in such pace as he watches your face distorting in an unreadable expression.

“Come on, say it love,” he commanded, giving you another thrust so hard that you choke under your breath.

“All y-yours! Fuck —” you cried, everything is too overwhelming for you. But Sunghoon was relaxed as he continued abusing your pussy.

“So good for me,” Sunghoon kisses your temples.

You could only close your eyes, too shut that it hurts. Concealing every cry as your legs started to shake, stomach coiling, and unable to control your breathing.

“Hoon —”

“Gonna come now love?” you heard Sunghoon asked, and your choked moan was the only thing you could say.

“Let’s come together, hold it for me can you?” Sunghoon fastened his pace, leaving you crying out of pleasure. He can feel everything tightening, his dick twitching indicating that he’s also near. It didn’t help that you’re sucking him hard. Everything just feels good for both of you, but Sunghoon wanted for it not to end. He wanted to linger more, to touch you more until he memorized everything about you.

“Fuck —” Sunghoon was almost shaking, his grip on your hand tighten as he glances at you one last time, he leans forward sealing you to a kiss so soft that it completely contrasts how the rough thrusts that he gives.

“Go on, come,” he whispered to you, thrusting sharply that you could only moan as your wave of orgasm came rushing inside you. Your legs shake violently as you let out soft breathing and whimpers. You weren't able to sink in how Sunghoon groaned at the same time as you, his thrust becoming sloppy as he came inside the condom. He thrusted a few times before pulling out, you could only whine because of the loss, not being able to process as Sunghoon lay down beside you.

Sunghoon quickly wraps his arms around you, pulling you a hug which only makes you drowsy. You can feel his skin against you, his warm touch that felt more nothing but a comfort to you.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, breaking the silence between the two of you.

“It does,” you answered. Now that the high has left you, you can feel your cunt aching due to the sudden penetration. It did feel good but you didn’t expect for it to still ache afterwards.

“I’ll run a bath for us, don’t sleep on me yet,” he suggested.

“But I’m sleepy,” you mumbled. “Can we just stay like this?”

“Let’s clean each other first, come on,” he pulled himself away from you, you could only watch as he sat on the bed. Pulling the soiled condom, seeing it all bloodied, Sunghoon’s lips turned into a thin line before tying it and covering it with tissue. He throws it in the trash bin before walking towards his bedroom’s bathroom.

A few minutes later, he returned to grab you, carrying you bridal style which you didn’t mind, too tired to think about. The bathtub was only halfway full but Sunghoon quickly dips both of you inside. Your back resting against his back as you could only hum, relaxing into the warm water.

“You okay?” he asked, his arms possessively wrapping around you.

“I’m tired,” you mumbled. “I want to sleep.”

You hear Sunghoon chuckle, “never thought you'd be the type to get tired after one round.”

“I didn’t know it’ll be this tiring,” you mumbled. “Or maybe I was also tired from packing my things.”

“Which wasn’t necessary,” he kisses your temples. “Because you’re still staying here with me.”

You only hum at his sentence, closing your eyes as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Just rest for me okay? I’ll take care of you.”

“Alright.”

“I love you,” Sunghoon stated, a loving kiss planted on your head.

“I love you too.”

Last night felt like a dream.

You opened your eyes to see yourself in a familiar room. Its silence comforts you in an indescribable way. Seeing how the sunlight sweeps through its curtains, indicates that you’ve slept past your usual wake time — a rare thing for you to happen. You sat up from the bed, noticing that the sheets are different and so are your clothes. A large shirt that almost pooled your thighs along with some boxer shorts in the shades of blue, hitting you immediately with reality.

Last night felt like a dream but you remember every detail of it vividly. You could only hug your knees as the sudden shame came rushing to you. Cheeks are heating up as you can still feel sore down there. Never expect that everything will lead to you losing your virginity to Sunghoon.

You can feel your heart beating, you remember every word said last night. The arguments, and promises, the way Sunghoon looked at you — everything. Everything was real yet it felt surreal. That’s when you glance to your left and see it empty. Sunghoon’s not here, and the thought of Sunghoon leaving you shadowed over your mind.

Quickly, you jumped out of the bed. Light footsteps open the door of his room, and as you skirt outside, you can hear the faint sound of cooking in the kitchen — that’s when you felt relief.

Slowly, you entered the kitchen to see Sunghoon cooking what you concluded were pancakes. He places the last batch on a plate before turning off the stove, turning around only to be surprised to see you standing there.

Silence devoured both of you. Not knowing what to say at all. After all the fiasco that you two had, some issues that needed to be solved, and of course, last night’s intimacy, everything suddenly felt awkward for both of you.

“Good morning,” Sunghoon breaks the ice first. “You’re awake now, let’s have some breakfast.”

“I thought you left,” you blurted out, immediately sinking in that you shouldn’t have said that.

You saw the way Sunghoon's forehead creased, confused. “Left? Why would I leave, I stay here.”

“You stay here?” you asked.

Sunghoon only quips a small smile, “I stayed here, waiting for you…hoping that you’ll come home.”

“Oh.” you only look away, embarrassed at the thought, and yet, a part of you was surprised by what you heard.

Sunghoon really meant what he said, and the thought that he waited for you to come home instead of going after you — he gave you time to think and waited for you to return, while at the same time, it gave him time to navigate his feelings for you. He’s right. It wasn’t too late for everything.

Sunghoon places down the plate on the dining table. While you only sat on the chair, watching Sunghoon set up the table for you. He offers the plate for you as he sits beside you. From there, you two sat in silence, eating the perfectly-cooked pancakes.

Weird. You thought as you took small bites on the food. Everything feels at ease, but you know that there’s still many issues that two have to address. Last night was just a swirl of each other’s emotions, although a proof of each other’s promises, you still don’t know what to do with your situation with Sunghoon.

“What — what happened last night?” you asked. Sunghoon chokes on his food, startling you. “I mean, during the bath —”

“Oh, you fell asleep halfway, nothing happened after, I slept eventually,” Sunghoon explained.

“Alright,” you mumbled, clearing your throat. As you looked at your unfinished plate, you wondered about the two of you, almost immediately things won’t be easily like the way it was.

“Hoon,” you whispered, trying to carefully set the atmosphere.

“Is there something wrong?” he asked, almost concerned.

“I just — I don’t know what to do with us,” you confessed, almost bitterly smiling. “All my life, I always knew what to do, I had a clear path of everything, dragging you in it which you obviously didn’t want to. But now that we have different goals, what about us?”

Sunghoon quietly looks at you. His soft expression completely contrasts the worried look on your face. Gently, he brushes the stray hair that covers your face, with his hand on the back of your neck, Sunghoon remains quiet as a smile forms on his face.

“I’m not leaving you y/n, don’t worry about us. Let’s just support each other alright? I know it’ll be hectic for each of us because we’re going different place, but this place,” Sunghoon’s eyes wandered around the house. “This is going to be our home. We’ll make it a home for us.”

“What about our engagement? It’s over now,” you asked, worried.

“Let’s get engaged when we’re ready, okay? Not because our parents set us up, I want our relationship to be genuine and real. I still have to prove my love for you.”

You only chuckle. “You already did.”

“It’s not enough, one night doesn’t change anything.”

You only nod at his words. “Thank you Sunghoon, for giving me another chance.”

“I should be the one who’s thankful to you, you never gave up on me even when I treat you badly,” he insisted, making you laugh.

“It’s my fault too, I shouldn’t have pushed you to my dreams too much.” you rebutted. “But I’m here now, I’ll support you in your dream.”

“That’s all I need to hear,” Sunghoon stated.

Nodding at his words, Sunghoon pulls you for a hug, his arms instinctively lifting you from your seat, pulling you to his lap to hold you even more tightly. You rest your head on his shoulder as your arms swing around his neck.

Silence hovered the dining area. You two remained there, never letting go of each other. The tranquility gives you two peace, feeling nothing but each other’s warmth as Sunghoon traces circle around your back, while you rest idly on him. It was comforting and assuring, and your heart swells in joy because your future with Sunghoon was never lost to you.

Epilogue.

As you open the door of your house, you immediately switch the lights on, revealing its comforting silence that only made you smile. The smell of lavender and eucalyptus filled the room, the relaxing scent coming from the air diffuser you and Sunghoon bought a few months ago, automatically reminds you of your lover.

“Hoon, I’m home!” you shouted, removing your sneakers when you heard the door of your shared room (formerly Sunghoon’s room) open. Sunghoon approaches you with a smile, gently cupping your cheeks to seal a kiss.

“Welcome home,” he greets, making you smile.

“What’s the occasion? You’re all dressed-up, or have you just got home from your class?” A year wasn’t that long, but a lot of things have changed between you and Sunghoon.

Sunghoon was given another chance from Decelis to finish his degree in medbio, stating that it’ll be a waste for him to not continue it. Although the two of you knew that the degree is deemed useless, Sunghoon let it be, a deal that he had with his parents for him to continue playing in the band.

After graduation, you agreed to Sunghoon to take a few months before entering medical school. Although you’re already on board to attend Decelis Medical School, you decided to take time to spend with the people you love because you know how hectic med school will be.

Arcanum continued performing. After graduation, they became an independent band. Slowly, their popularity is starting to rise. Getting invited to events, university festivals, and of course, they still do their gig in The Rabbit Hole, which became more popular and crowded than ever. You, on the other hand, always manage time to watch their performance along with the other band members’ girlfriends — who you eventually became friends with.

“I’m taking you out for dinner,” Sunghoon simply replied, grabbing your bag as he scurried his way back to your bedroom, which you only followed.

“Why? What’s the special occasion?” you asked, laughing.

“Nothing, just want to take my girl out, is that so bad?” Sunghoon grins, and your gleaming eyes can see how excited he is, like he’s preparing for something.

You only hum, as you proceed to your shared closet. “Alright, let me just freshen up for a bit and change.”

You two arrived at the restaurant not an hour later. The receptionist guided you to your reservation which surprised you because Sunghoon had reserved a private room for the two of you.

“This is,” you held your breath as you looked at the room. Nostalgia hits you because Sunghoon had brought you to the place where you two were formally engaged by your family.

“You still remember it?” he asked, smiling.

“Of course,” you could only mumble. “I was nervous. We were friends who suddenly became fiances at eighteen, it was a sudden turn.”

“I was nervous too, but I was in relief because my family chose you,” Sunghoon confesses. “Although we went through a rough path, I’m glad we were able to overcome it.”

You only smiled back at him. “So am I.”

Food arrived minutes later, along with some white wine of Sunghoon’s choice. The two of you spent the remaining time reminiscing, talking mostly about your childhood days, especially the embarrassing moments that had you two laughing loudly.

“I have some news for you,” Sunghoon blurted out, completely changing the topic between the two of you.

“What is it?’ you asked, taking small sips from your glass.

“Daydream Records called yesterday,” Sunghoon started, his smile grew wider, eyes almost turning into a curve. “They’re interested in having us in their label, it’s a five-year contract and they will manage everything for us — can you believe it!?”

“Oh my god —” words got stuck in your throat. Immediately, you stood up from your seat, approaching Sunghoon who only waited for you to fall into his arms. Pulling you on his lap as you embraced him tightly. “Hoon, oh my god — this is good news! You guys will become famous!”

“Becoming famous is still far for us, but no more hassle schedules, and Heeseung’s girl doesn’t need to partake in managing us, we’ll have our own manager, our own studio — everything!” Sunghoon excitedly shared, making you smile wider.

“That’s great love, I’m so, so proud of you and Arcanum,” you only said, leaning on him to give him a deep kiss on the lips which he only reciprocated.

“We’ll be busy this year, you’re going to attend Decelis in two months, while once we sign our contracts, we’ll be gearing up to release our debut single.” Sunghoon explained. “We might always come home to an empty house now.”

“Are you afraid?” you asked worriedly.

“Of course not, I have faith in both of us, but y/n,” he settles you on the chair in front of him. Hands holding you as he gives you an assuring smile. “We might not see each other from time to time because we’re too busy, but I want to let you know that I will always support you no matter what.”

Before you could say anything, Sunghoon grabs something from his coat’s inner pocket, your eyes widening at the velvet box that he’s holding.

“Hoon,” you whispered.

“We were tied to be married when we were young, and we promised that we’ll only get married when we’re ready, and though one year has passed and a lot of things have changed, we still have a long way to go, for us.” Sunghoon stated.

You remained quiet, only staring at him who gently cups your face.

“I want you to think of me whenever you see this ring,” he said as he proceeded to open the box. Your eyes widened at the pair of rings — both have subtle engraved diamonds, with the other one thinner with a much more intricate design.

“And I’ll think of you whenever I see the ring too,” Sunghoon added. “It’s a promise ring. A promise for us that we’ll be with each other no matter what. It’ll be our strength especially during hard times.”

Tears started flowing from your eyes, out of happiness, you let out a choked laugh as you wiped your tears away — bumping into Sunghoon's hands who faltered a laugh as he gently wiped the tears away.

“Hoon, I don’t know what to say…I love it — gosh, I love you so, so much, you don’t know how happy this makes me,” you could only say, almost stumbling to your words.

Sunghoon didn’t say a word. He removes the ring and gently puts it in your ring finger, fitting perfectly like it was meant for you. You copied his action, grabbing the other band and placing it in his ring finger.

“Promise me that you’ll be there for me,” Sunghoon stated.

“Of course, I’ll be there for you, just like you’ll be with me,” you only smiled. “Forever.”

Sunghoon grabs your cheeks once again, planting a kiss on your lips which you delicately replied, sealing the promise you two have. Breaking the kiss, Sunghoon only stared at you, eyes brightening as his smile became wider.

“Forever.”

2K notes · View notes

writtenwhalien · 1 year ago

Text

jump then fall (into you) | part 1

banner by the talented @jimilter 💖

pairing ↠ jungkook x reader

genre ↠ cruise AU, fake dating AU, best friends to lovers AU | fluff, angst, smut

word count ↠ 52k (split into 3 parts | pt 1. 24k)

18+ | warnings ↠ swearing, drinking, sexual content: foreplay, oral m. and f., nipple play, protected sex etc.

summary ↠ bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?

note. i'm backkkkk...?! with a disclaimer too:

I’ve been writing this on and off for pretty much two years so 1. it's not proofread bc i have not got the attention span to do that for 50k+ and I never got to read over what I previously wrote before working on it again so it might be a bit mismatched…? 2. I can’t say I’m hugely happy with this fic because it wasn’t a continuous workflow, it just doesn’t match the standards I have for myself but i tried and I’ll do better for the next ones which I’m excited about ;)

please interact and tell me how you find it! <3 it's been forever and i've missed you all 🥺

due to tumblr text post limitations, I’ve had to publish in three parts — links for part 2 + 3 can be found at the end.

↠ a part of the seven seas collab hosted by the wonderful yannie @ressjeon 🌊🥰 two years late but I made it :’)

part 1

“Gosh, Y/N, it’s a three week trip, you’re not going for a year!”

The frustration in Jungkook’s voice has you whipping around, a pair of Valentino’s in one hand, Manolo’s in the other. “It’s Alex’s wedding cruise, Jungkook. Everyone and their parents are going to be there, mine included!”

“Not mine!” he huffs, putting the last of your swimsuits into the suitcase open in front of him. You don’t blame him for being so frustrated, after all, he has been folding your clothes for the last hour while his single suitcase sits ready to go downstairs in the foyer.

“Actually in case you’ve forgotten,” you start, stepping carefully through the piles of clothes in your massive closet to go towards him, “my mom has fed and even bathed you once after that time you wet yourself, so technically she’s as good as yours too.”

“That was one time, and I barely even remember it so it doesn’t count.”

“I do,” you smile, coming to stop in front of him.

He sighs, looking down at the stilettos you’re holding. “We’ve been packing for hours already, you should’ve done this nights ago if it was gonna take this long.”

Now it’s you who’s sighing. “It’s been an hour not hours, besides we’re almost done now.”

Jungkook arches his brow, folding his arms in front of him. “Then what’re all your clothes doing on the floor?”

“They just need to go in one of the suitcases,” you smile. “See, we’re almost done.”

Unconvinced, Jungkook looks around at the mess but eventually nods. “Fine, but you can finish yourself, I’m going to eat—“

“No, wait, you can’t leave me!” you exclaim, reaching for Jungkook as your eyes go wide as a doe.

Telltale traces of a smile on Jungkook’s features let you know he was expecting this. He looks down at you, a loose curl hanging over his forehead. There was once a time when you were the taller one, but that only lasted a few years before Jungkook got in a good few inches between you.

Both of you were just turning six when you first met although it always felt like Jungkook was a little younger to you in the first few years of your friendship, probably because of his naturally introverted nature which he more often steps out of when he feels comfortable to do so. But back then, he was just a wide eyed six year old who hid behind his mother as she came to work on her first day at the estate you call home.

Knowing Jungkook was the same age as you and from a single parent household, your mom suggested that he could stay with you instead of his mom needing to hire someone to look after him while she worked. That was probably one of the best things that ever happened to the both of you. Jungkook became a better friend to you than many of those at your private school full of elementary school kids who wished they were ten years older than they were, and as the years went on there was nothing you didn’t do together.

Naturally, your family got to know Jungkook well and being the little smartass he’s always been, Jungkook impressed your father so much that he helped him to apply for a scholarship position as you moved into high school. Of course Jungkook got in, and though it was only a partial scholarship, your father insisted on paying the rest of his fees which his mother found hard to accept but Jungkook promised your father to pay him back in the future. Fast forward a little more than a decade and Jungkook has paid back all of the fees thanks to being CEO of an affluent software company developed from his love of gaming.

He struggles to fight his smile and you can see he’s contemplating going down or not, having to choose between food or you. “What do you even need me for?” he asks, taking the smallest step closer, so small you don’t even notice.

“Fashion advice?” you shrug, keeping an iron-like grip on his arms.

He narrows his eyes. “You told me my fashion style is shit.”

“Was,” you correct, sliding your hands up his arms and down his chest with a satisfied smile. “Now is different though, I’ve rubbed off on you.” You glance down at his figure too, checking out his outfit.

Jungkook chuckles as he follows your gaze. “Why would you need my help when you have yourself then, hm?”

Pouting at him, your arms slip around his waist and squeeze him in a hug. “You’re Mr Muscle, who else is gonna help me carry all this stuff?”

He pouts back sarcastically. “Is princess gonna break a heel if she carries her own suitcase?”

As you shrug, your brows remain furrowed. “Maybe, or a nail,” you say, letting one hand off his waist to show off a fresh manicure. As you wiggle your fingers ahead of him, he breaks into a smile.

“You know you have a bunch of dudes in suits downstairs, just waiting to help you with this stuff. I’m pretty sure it’s their job.”

“Yes, but they don’t give me fashion advice like you do,” you respond with a cheeky wink.

Jungkook takes the heels you’re holding off of you. “Here’s some advice — pack light.” He throws the heels behind him somewhere in your closet, earning a frown from you as your eyes follow where they land in the middle of your blown out closet.

“Fine,” you sigh, looking back up at him. “I’ll lose the heels if you promise you’ll stay with me now.”

As a small smile grows on his lips, Jungkook’s arms find their way around your waist too. “Only if you promise you’ll make me a sandwich before we go?” His smile grows knowingly as he gives in to your charm — you’ve always found it’s easy to encourage Jungkook to go along with whatever you want, he just can’t seem to say no to you.

“PB and J?” you ask with a smile that matches his.

He nods once, eyes shimmering as he still gazes at you.

“Of all the foods you could ask for, it’s always PB and J,” you laugh.

He shrugs, letting go as you move to finish packing. “There’s nothing else I want.”

Arching a brow, you throw a few pairs of linen pants towards one of the suitcases in your closet. “We literally have a live-in chef, you know, Frederico, the guy you have a secret handshake with?”

“Yes, what of him?” Jungkook says huffing.

“And you still want PB and J when he can make you anything?”

Jungkook steps towards your suitcase and picks up a pair of pants to roll. “I know that, but I just need some food in me and quick, so the simple option is best.”

Stepping forward, you take the pants off of him and roll them yourself. “If you would be patient enough to wait a few more minutes then you could have a sandwich that’ll fill you up for longer than half an hour.”

“And if you didn’t have more clothes than half the country combined then we would probably already be on our way to the airport,” Jungkook responds sassily, cocking his head.

“Don’t get smart with me or I won’t make your sandwich,” you sass back.

“I’ll just ask Freddie to make it for me and you don’t get Mr Muscle.”

Grumbling, you shove the rolled pants back into his hands as he laughs, taking them to place in one of the open suitcases. Not long after, all of your suitcases are packed and in the car, ready to go.

The drive to the airport takes a little under an hour and upon arriving, the car takes you straight to the jet. Apparently you did take a little too long packing as your mom so pointedly lets you know after arriving, but luckily for you there’s a few others missing from the families you’re taking the jet with. With time to kill, Jungkook and you have a few idle chats with the others, most of whom you went to school with so the conversation comes easily but eventually you settle into the seats opposite your parents.

“How was your drive here, darling?” your mom asks while closing her bag after a little skin TLC.

“It was fine,” you answer, pulling out your own bag full of the skincare you deemed necessary to carry for the plane trip.

“And how did you find it, Jungkook?”

Jungkook shrugs. “It was good.”

“Lovely,” she smiles. “It’s going to be a wonderful trip.”

From beside her, your dad sighs, putting away his tablet. “Do we know how long the flight is to Marbella?”

“Oh, honey,” your mom frowns disapprovingly. “Don’t be such a grumpy lump before we’re even in the air.”

Jokingly, your father looks at Jungkook and you, and then gives your mom a side eye. “I just had a few important meetings that Chris accidentally scheduled for today so I’m wondering if I could still make them online.”

Dismissively, your mom waves her hand. “No work talk, we’re here to enjoy ourselves.”

“Alright, you’re right,” your dad concedes. “Maybe to start we could get a few drinks then, eh?” He raises his brow at Jungkook who approves with a big smile and both of them flag down a flight attendant.

Once there’s a drink in everyone’s hand, your parents settle into conversation with Jungkook and you.

“So are you excited to see Alex, Y/N?” your father asks.

“Absolutely,” you smile. “Though I think I’m more excited to see Sophia and Alias, it’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to spend time with them.”

“Oh, Jungkook, you must be excited to see Sophia too,” your mom says with a bit of a cheeky smile.

Jungkook chuckles nervously, glancing at you though you’re sporting the same smile as your mother. “I mean, yeah, we’re good friends.”

“Well if you weren’t, things would be pretty awkward,” your dad laughs before helping himself to some food he ordered with the drinks.

“Yeah,” Jungkook mutters, managing a small laugh.

“Oh come on, guys,” you laugh, nudging him. “She’s happy you’re coming too.”

He nods appreciatively before taking a sip of his drink. “It’s her parents I’m more worried about.”

At this, your mom laughs too. “Oh, Leon and Helena love you really, dear, it’s all just for a laugh.” She leans forwards and squeezes his hand with her usual tender smile. “Though if it really bothers you, we could have a word with them, without letting on it’s coming from you of course.”

Smiling, Jungkook shakes his head. “Thanks, that’s really sweet of you but it’s alright, I can take the daggers I get from them,” he chuckles. “After all, what I did was pretty awful.”

“You were sixteen,” you say, patting on the last of your moisturiser.

He shrugs. “I know, but she’s their little princess.” He looks across at you and then glances at your parents. “It’s like someone doing that to you, your parents would be mad.”

At that, your father hums in agreement.

“Heck, I’d be mad,” Jungkook adds.

Looking at him, he shrugs again and smiles. Before you can say anything, he carries on. “Sixteen or not, I literally left Sophia on one of the most important nights of her life.”

“Yeah, it was pretty awful at the time,” you sigh, remembering the night as clear as day.

Almost ten years ago now, the night of both yours and Sophia’s entry into society, the debutante ball. For you, the night was a bit of a blur with it being the first night Alex and you made things official in your relationship, sealing it with a first kiss and many more that evening. It was a magical and whimsical night, and although Alex and you didn’t last, your love for each other still remains as best friends and you couldn’t be happier for him getting married to his dream girl now.

For Sophia, the night went a little differently... She'd had a crush on Jungkook for a while since, being Alex’s younger sister, she’d seen him often with you. After he found out, he asked her to be her escort to the ball. She of course said yes and everything seemed to be going perfectly until the moment Jungkook was supposed to escort her down the stairs but he had completely disappeared. Sophia was left all alone and completely embarrassed, even after Alias, the ever caring older brother, stepped in and acted as her escort. Jungkook still hasn’t told you the reason he left so abruptly that night. All you remember is not being able to reach him the whole weekend, even when you tried going to his house he was never home. When you finally saw him, he told you he didn’t want to talk about it so you didn’t.

Of course, everyone else forgot about the incident and even Sophia forgave him after he apologised profusely and endlessly, but Mr and Mrs Cirillo were less forgiving for a while, but after many years it’s just become a joke between them. The fact that he’s invited on the cruise just shows it’s all in the past now.

However that doesn’t mean Mr and Mrs Cirillo ever pass up an opportunity to remind him of the past…

“It’s lovely to see you, Y/N, dear,” Mrs Cirillo says, bringing you in for a hug.

Mr Cirillo stands behind her, taking your hand as soon as his wife lets go. “How was the flight here?”

“It was good, I slept for most of it really.” Stepping away, you turn to look at Jungkook as he approaches them with a meek smile.

Mrs Cirillo smiles back, her words carrying a playful lilt. “There he is, the heartbreaker.”

Jungkook lowers his head at that and you can see his nose scrunching a little. “That’s me, unfortunately,” he says, stepping into Mrs Cirillo’s arms for a brief hug.

When he takes Mr Cirillo’s hand to shake, the older man shows the same playfulness as his wife. “Nice to see you again, Jungkook. My favourite and least favourite man on board.”

Jungkook chuckles and Mr Cirillo pulls him in for a hug. “Stay out of trouble, yes?”

“Of course,” Jungkook smiles, stepping away to stand next to you as your parents walk out onto the main deck.

Their eyes light up as the old friends all greet each other and you take Jungkook’s hand and slip away together before you get roped into a conversation.

“You alright?” you ask casually as you scan the people all on the deck.

“Good, thanks,” he responds with a gentle squeeze of your hand. He knows that you know how he finds it a little tedious sometimes every time Sophia’s parents mention the past, but he knows he messed up so he doesn’t ever complain about it. In a way, it annoys you when the Cirillo’s always mention it but you know it’s not your place to say anything, especially if Jungkook hasn’t said anything.

Looking around, you take in many of the familiar faces while scanning the crowds for Alex or one of his siblings. There’s no unfamiliar faces on this part of the deck, and seeing all the waiters walking around offering canapés and drinks, you realise the Cirillo’s must’ve rented out this part of the deck. The excited buzz amongst everyone extends to you as you turn to look out past the balcony towards the sea, stepping towards it and taking Jungkook with you.

Taking a deep breath of the fresh sea, enjoying the warmth glowing from the sun as a steady breeze blows. Exhaling, you turn around to Jungkook beaming.

It seems like he was already watching you, waiting as though he knows you’re gonna say something now. Seeing you smile, his corner of his lips turn too. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

“Very,” you nod, turning around to look out again, lowering the sunglasses from your head to stop from squinting.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice calls your name and you turn around, breaking into the biggest smile when you see Alex approaching, his arms outstretched. “Jungkook!”

You meet him halfway, excitedly skipping into his hug. He hugs you tight, releasing a sigh as he lets go and hugs Jungkook. “Gosh, it’s been so bloody long, I’ve missed you guys.”

“Missed you more, buddy,” Jungkook smiles, patting Alex’s back before he lets go. “Congrats on the wedding too, we’re well excited to be here for you.”

Alex laughs, flashing his perfect pearly smile. “Honestly, I’m happier to have you guys here. Half of the people here haven’t even spoken to me in years.” He glances around before adding, “you know how it is.”

“Mhm,” you nod, squeezing his arm. “You’ve got us though, we’re here for you every step of the way.”

“Thanks,” he responds, taking two drinks from a passing waiter to give to you both. “You were allowed plus ones though, when do I get to meet them?” He looks across at both of you expectantly, though you see a subtle raise of his brow matched with a small smile that seems to hint he already knows the answer.

“Well, we didn’t really get the chance to ask anyone,” Jungkook answers, looking sideways at you. “So we just thought we’d come with each other.”

“Ah.” The smile on Alex’s lips grows. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Because you know how busy we’ve both been,” you say, shrugging lightly before taking a long sip of your drink.

“Hm, that’s it,” Alex says quietly.

“BOO!” Large hands tap your shoulders before the man himself jumps in front of you.

“Alias,” you squeal excitedly, returning the hug he’s already given you. Slightly more wild albeit still as focused as his younger brother, Alias is the eldest of the Cirillo siblings and has become more of an older brother to you over the years.

“You look like you’ve grown,” he says, moving back and beaming as he pulls Jungkook in for a hug. “Both of you.”

“We literally saw you like a month ago,” Jungkook chuckles.

“Really?” Alias raises his brows in surprise. “Damn, you kids grow fast.”

“I could say the same thing about that moustache of yours,” you say.

He smiles smugly. “Looks good right?”

Shrugging, you lean against the balcony. “I think you looked better without it.”

Alias frowns, hand coming up to stroke his moustache subconsciously. “Really?” he asks, looking at you in time to see you raising your glass to your lips to hide your smile.

“I knew you liked it,” he laughs. “Apparently a lot of people do.”

“Ah, Alias, no one wants to know,” Alex grimaces at his older brother.

Before Alias can defend himself, Jungkook says, “I do.” Alex and you both look at him and he shrugs. “Might grow mine out.”

Alias laughs, throwing his arm around Jungkook’s shoulder. “C’mon buddy, I’ll tell you all about it.”

As Alias pulls him away, Alex steps to stand next to you and both of you watch them walk away with Alias talking in a hushed tone as though no one else can find out.

As you watch them walk away with a fond smile on your face, Alex turns to you. “So, how have you been?”

Still absentmindedly watching Jungkook and Alias, you hum. “Great.”

“How’s work?”

“Mm, I actually just secured a deal with Park Motors last week.”

Glancing at Alex, you see his brows raise. “Impressive.”

“Yeah, it was a pretty big win for the company and dad was proud of me.”

Alex smiles. “And were you proud of yourself?”

As Jungkook’s head disappears from the crowd, you turn to face Alex too, taking another sip of your drink. “I know people think I’m just riding off my parent’s success, which yeah, it’s true for the most part, but after doing this all myself I was pretty proud.”

“Good,” he grins. “You should be. You may be one of the most princess-ed girls I know,” he adds with a teasing lilt, “but you’re also one of the most hard working.”

Laughing, you nudge him lightly. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.” He leans against the balcony too, pulling down his shades as he turns towards the sea where the sun shines down on the horizon. “What about things with Jungkook?”

Shrugging, you take a small sip. “He’s good.”

Alex glances at you from the corner of his eye with the curve of his lips growing. “Hm, anything else?”

Levelling his face, you break into a smile. “Oh, Alex, you’re never gonna let this go are you?”

He smiles, shaking his head. “Not as long as I see it’s there.”

Straightening your expression a little, you tilt your head. “But there’s nothing there.”

“Y/N, there’s everything there,” he says, matching your tone.

“Alex, come on,” you say quietly, traces of a smile returning.

He shrugs. “I make a perfectly valid point.”

Turning towards the deck again, you sigh. “I don’t see it.”

“I do!” Alex almost exclaims excitedly. “And I have for the longest time.” Letting out a small laugh, he puts his arm around you and squeezes gently. “His big doe eyes used to torture me all the time when I was dating you.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. Jungkook does have doe eyes but you don’t remember seeing them often while dating Alex.

“Seriously,” Alex says, fighting his case onwards. “I dated you for what, almost a year I think and I’ve never seen anyone sulk for that long.”

“He wasn’t sulking.”

“Listen, I’m almost a married man now, Y/N, and I can tell you all the looks of love…”

When you arch a brow quizzically, Alex sighs and continues. “That boy was sulking for weeks because he hated seeing you with someone else.”

“Oh come on, maybe he had a crush in the past but he’s a grown man now and has had plenty of his own romances.”

Now it’s Alex who’s looking at you with his brow raised. “Like who?”

It takes you a moment to think of a name but a few still come to mind. “Remember Alia, the intern from my dad's company?” you ask rather smugly, although Alex’s reaction shows no surprise.

“The girl who he went out with like five times.”

You shrug. “That counts for something.

“It really doesn’t,” Alex says matter-of-factly. “Anyway, who else?”

“Hmmm… ooh, Rachel, that super hot secretary!”

“Y/N, that was a one night stand, it literally doesn’t count.”

Sighing, you rack your memory for more, and then comes the answer. “Valentina.”

Alex almost snorts, prompting you to frown at him.

“What?” you question. “That was a real romance, there were feelings there.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Alex almost snorts again. “The most real thing about that relationship was the Chopard watch Valentina tried to use to bribe Jungkook back to her.”

Wincing, you remember the finer details of that supposedly real romance. You turn back out to face the horizon, pulling your own shades down. “Alright, I guess I see your point.”

Gently pushing his point, Alex carries on. “Not to mention that I was your last serious relationship, which was how many years ago now?”

You simply shrug. “I’m not looking for anyone.”

Alex hums thoughtfully. “Or you’ve already ‘found’ your someone.” This earns a glare from you but Alex ignores this. “He’s practically your boyfriend already!”

“In what way?!”

“You do almost everything together!” Alex exclaims back. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve had sex already!”

“Alex!” Something in your stomach curls unbidden at the thought. “We haven’t had sex!” you whisper hotly, glancing around to make sure no one heard.

“Sorry,” Alex mumbles, looking over his shoulder too. Luckily there’s no one nearby, everyone seems too busy engaging in their own excited conversations about the weeks to come.

Everything you’re hearing now isn’t news to you, you know plenty of people have questioned the relationship between Jungkook and you, and you totally get why, but you’ve been friends since such a young age and that’s perfectly okay. Neither you nor Jungkook have made a move to take things further and maybe that’s just how things are meant to stay, despite what Alex seems to think.

“Also, what friend agrees to come on a 3 week long cruise for you, knowing full well my father doesn’t miss a single opportunity to roast him.”

“Here’s here for you, not me.”

“Actually,” Alex raises a finger, “I invited him before you and he said he would meet us in Italy because things were busy with the company. I invited you after him, and the next thing I know is Jungkook is calling me telling me he’ll be coming with you from the start.”

As your eyes narrow, you start to think of how that happened. After Alex invited you, you texted Jungkook straight away to ask if he’d come with you as a date to the wedding. As soon as he said yes, you started waffling on about how fun the trip was going to be and it must’ve been after that that Jungkook told Alex he’d come sooner than he previously planned.

“Well, any best friend would do that,” you say simply.

Alex pushes his lips out, brows raised. “I’m your best friend and I wouldn’t do that for you.”

“Hey!” You shove him hard but he barely moves.

“Oh c’mon, you wouldn’t do it for me either.” Alex looks at you with a smile.

“Yeah,” you relent. “I probably wouldn’t unless you really needed me.”

Just then, you see Jungkook walking towards you, holding a platter of something. He simply beams when you frown at him in confusion.

From beside you, Alex raises his glass to his lips. “I’m telling you, the boy is whipped,” he says quietly before taking a sip.

Jungkook comes within ears width before you can say anything. “Y/N, look,” he holds out the tray he’s holding, “they have those little cracker things you like with capa, uh, capa-something.” He pushes it closer, gesturing for you to take one while looking pleased with himself.

Looking at the platter, your lips curl mindlessly into a smile. “Caponata,” you say, correcting him gently.

It’s when Jungkook remembers the little things like this that his place in your heart grows and you’re grateful for having him as your best friend.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” he smiles. “Here, I got them for you.”

Your brows furrow together as you look down. “The whole platter?”

“Well, yeah,” he says looking down too. “You like them and I’m sure there’s more going around for everyone else.”

From beside you, Alex starts coughing and you’re more than certain you hear the word “whipped” coming out of his mouth. One glance at him proves you’re right as he raises his brows before looking away.

Jungkook, not having noticed the word Alex let slip, is eating one of the canapés before holding one out for you too. Smiling and thanking him, you take it.

“Good right?” Jungkook asks, his mouth full as you also eat one whole.

“So good,” you mumble, brows furrowed as you keep eating.

Jungkook holds the tray towards Alex. “Want one?”

“I’m good,” he smiles. “I’ll leave you two to it though, I’ve still got some guests I need to greet.” His smile seems weary though you don’t blame him, sometimes the supposed family friends in your circle don’t seem very much like friends. After saying a temporary goodbye, he takes his leave, leaving Jungkook and you to continue devouring the canapés.

For a moment, you’re both quiet, save the sounds of pleasure from eating, then Jungkook speaks. “Sophia’s not coming with us by the way.”

Eyes wide, you turn to look at him. “What?!” you question, mouth half full.

Jungkook takes one glance at you and chuckles. His thumb comes up and wipes something close to your lips. “She’s joining us later, from Nice.”

“Oh.” Your lips turn into a pout. “Who am I gonna hang out with?”

“You-bo-me,” Jungkook says with his mouthful again.

“No,” you sigh. “I don’t got you. As soon as Alias is about, you and him turn into Tweedledum and Tweedledee.”

A small laugh escapes Jungkook's lips and you frown at him.

“I’m sorry,” he laughs again, placing the mostly empty tray down on a nearby table. “Look,” he takes your hands and squeezes them, “I promise I’ll stay with you, we can just hang out with Alias too.”

“Yeah, I know,” you say looking up at him. “It’s fine though, you can hang out with whoever you want. You don’t have to stay with me.”

Jungkook hides an amused smile. “I’ll stay with you, we can’t have our princess being alone,” he chuckles again, letting go of your hands to squeeze your cheeks.

“Mm, my makeup,” you mumble, prying his fingers off your cheeks. “And you can stay with me if you really want to,” you shrug, hiding your smug expression.

Jungkook scoffs, laughing as you put your sunglasses back on. “I changed my mind.”

“Hey!” you exclaim, and before you get another word out, Jungkook is laughing, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you in.

“I’m joking, now let’s go say hi to the Morgan’s, they’ve been looking this way since Alex was here.”

“They’re probably just judging us,” you grumble.

Jungkook smiles, turning you around and walking with you. “More reason to say hello.”

Most of the first day is spent the same way, greeting some families who you like and some who you don’t but at least you get to do it with a glass of champagne and Jungkook by your side. By the early evening, everyone is settling into their cabins and exploring the cruise ship which feels more like a palace.

It’s well past midnight when Jungkook is walking you to your cabin which unfortunately is on another level to yours – Alex mentioned he couldn’t get your cabins closer since Jungkook was supposed to be joining later.

“I am so ready to knockout,” you yawn, pulling out the keycard.

“Make sure you don’t forget to take your makeup off,” Jungkook says as a gentle reminder.

Turning around at the threshold of your door, you look at him as he leans against the wall opposite. “I won’t, and you don’t forget to shower, you still stink of chlorine.”

Jungkook chuckles quietly, careful not to disturb any of the neighbouring cabins who are most likely asleep. Alias and him decided it would be fun to cannonball into the deck pool during prohibited hours and subsequently ended up running away from some of the cruise crew and you just happened to be with them even though you refused to jump in because it’s breaking the rules.

“I’m making you join us next time,” he says.

“That’s never gonna happen.”

Smiling slightly, Jungkook tilts his head. “That sounds like a challenge.”

Laughing, you step out of your room towards him. “I wouldn’t try, Jeon.” Raising your hand, you pinch his nose. “You’ll just fail.”

“Or,” Jungkook raises his brows, taking your hand into his, “it could be one of the best nights you spend here, plus running away is fun,” he grins.

“You call that fun?” you laugh.

“Tell me it wasn't.”

You shrug. “I have fun whenever I'm with you anyway.”

Jungkook smiles, and so do you. It’s not hard to be honest around him, it never has been. That’s probably why you’ve been best friends for so long. “So all the time?” he says.

“All the time,” you repeat, laughing.

Lips still holding a gentle smile, Jungkook looks down at you and for a second you wait for him to say something but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he releases a small sigh and pulls you into a hug.

You feel your body relax in his embrace, the weariness of today’s jet lag and socialising and cheeky antics slowly melting away as you breathe in the comforting smell of his cologne. Even though it’s tainted with chlorine, his arms around you seem to make it worth putting up with.

His hands slide up your back, patting you softly. “I’ll see you in the morning, hm.”

“Just don’t wake me up before noon,” you mumble.

He laughs, pulling away. “Breakfast ends at 11.”

Groaning, you step towards your door again. “I wish Freddie was with us.”

Chuckling quietly, he starts to make his way towards his cabin. “Good night, Y/N.”

“Night,” you wave, seeing him disappear from view as the door closes. You almost collapse onto your bed but manage to trudge to the bathroom to wash off your makeup and get into your pyjamas before finally sinking into bed and falling asleep.

Knock knock knock

Knock knock.

“Y/N?"

Knock knock knock. “Y/N!”

Grumbling, you pull your pillow over your head.

There’s a few more impatient knocks before you hear Jungkook. “Come on, or I’m going down without you.”

“Go,” you groan, tossing in bed. “I’ll eat later.”

Then you hear a series of whining outside the door. “It's already almost 11, it's embarrassing going by myself you have to come with me, please.”

With one final groan, you force yourself out of bed and open the door. “I said not before noon, Koo.”

“Please,” he says, lips forming an effortless pout. “I’m hungry.”

Well you can’t say no now. Sighing, you step aside for him to come in. “Give me twenty minutes.”

Jungkook slumps onto your bed, already dressed casually in a white tee and black shorts. “You have ten.”

With Jungkook rushing you, you meet halfway and manage to get ready in 15 minutes instead. It seems the Cirillo’s spared no expense and managed to keep an entire upper deck private for all of the meals served on sea days. There’s a breakfast buffet laid out inside but before you can even grab yourself a plate, you see your mom frowning at you from her seat outside. She raises her brows and points to her wrist, her not so subtle way of reminding you you’re late.

With a big smile, you mouth sorry and she just laughs to herself, shaking her head.

“Y/N,” Jungkook calls your name. You look over at him and he’s already standing behind a few people up for seconds, waiting his turn. Walking over, you take a plate and glance down at the table ahead of you.

“This looks good,” you think out loud.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Jungkook says, glancing around. He frowns at something, moving his head to get a better look.

“What? What’s wro–?”

His eyes widen and suddenly he’s crouching enough to remove the inches difference between you, hands gripping your arms. “Hide me.”

“What?”

“Hide me,” he repeats, the insistence in his voice clearer than before.

Putting your plate down, you push his shoulders lower. “I am,” you whisper harshly. “But why?” you say, glancing around.

“No, don’t look,” Jungkook says, his tone becoming something like a whine. “She’ll come over if she sees you.”

“Who?”

Jungkook groans, eyes closing. “Why is she here?”

Ignoring his request not to look, you turn around and scan the room, looking for any familiar faces while your mind goes through a mental list of names of people who could make Jungkook want to hide before a whole breakfast buffet. Just as your name arrives at a potential suspect, the woman herself comes into your view.

“Oh.”

Tall, glamorous and even graceful, Valentina Forero struts her preppy, perfect figure, dressed head to toe in designer and a handbag so small you’re sure not even her phone can fit in there.

Immediately, you look away from her and down at Jungkook. He’s already looking up at you with a weary expression. Your lips form an apologetic smile and he sighs, a string of curse words coming out from his mouth in the form of a hushed whisper while he stays pressed against your side trying to hide himself from view.

Of all the things that could possibly go wrong, this has to be the single worst thing.

Valentina is Jungkook’s ex friend with benefits of almost a year. They met shortly after college at your grad party and they started off as casual and eventually there were some feelings involved but they never really bloomed.

When Jungkook tried to end things after some months, Valentina had a lot to say and for some reason just didn’t want to let him go even though she wasn’t looking for something real.

You don’t blame her, Jungkook attracts people like a magnet, but their relationship was a little more on the toxic side with some jealousy and so many stupid arguments no doubt stemming from the feelings that budded but never grew. It was better for both of them to call it quits, so they never made things official but to call Valentina anything less than an ex would be an injustice to some of the things they went through.

Stealing a glance at her again, you watch for a few seconds as she makes her way through the families, greeting each one with a bright smile.

As she moves, Jungkook moves too, trying to stay hidden from her view behind you. His head presses against your arm, cheek almost against your left boob.

“Um, Jungkook,” you say, smiling. “I get you’re trying to hide but uh, I don’t think this is a good look…”

“What?” he says, still distracted as he glances towards where Valentina is.

“We’re standing at a breakfast bar on a family cruise and your face is pretty close to my boobs.”

He looks up at you, eyes widening when he realises. “Oh, sorry.” He stands straight, turning to face the bar instead.

“It’s cool,” you answer, picking up your plate again and nudging him to move forward. “”I’m sure we’ve given the Collins something to talk about for today.” Turning to your right at the eyes ogling you, you smile plastically at Mr and Mrs Collins.

“Sorry,” Jungkook mutters again absentmindedly as he slowly fills his plate.

“Jungkook,” you say, nudging him again as you fill your own. “It’s gonna be fine, there’s so many people here I’m sure you won’t see each other that much, and even if you do, you have me.” You’re already beaming when he looks at you, and his own eyes crease in the corners and he smiles too. “Thanks. I guess you’re right but please don’t ever let me be alone with her.”

“I won’t,” you laugh. “Although once she knows you’re here, I’m sure she’ll try to hookup with you at least once.”

“I hope not,” Jungkook sighs. “She’s not a bad girl but I just don’t wanna go back there, y’know?”

“Mhm, I know,” you say, turning towards the table your parents are seated at. “But what I don’t know is how we’re gonna get to sit without her seeing you.” You nod in the direction of your parents.

Jungkook glances around. “Let’s go sit with Alex and Thalia,” he says, nodding in the opposite direction.

Stealthily, the two of you make your way out onto the deck and approach Alex and his fiancee unseen.

“Oh, Y/N,” Thalia beams, leaning in for a hug as soon as she sees you. “You look beautiful.”

You snort. “I woke up half an hour ago, I definitely look awful.”

“Absolutely not,’ Thalia says with a gracious wave of her hand before Jungkook gets up to greet her too. “You both look lovely and I'm so happy you’re here!”

“Of course,” you say, smiling at both her and Alex. “We’re even happier to be here and so excited for you.”

“Thank you, angel,” she winks.

“Jungkook, are you okay?” Alex asks quietly, frowning as he watches Jungkook carefully. Glancing to your right, you also notice Jungkook is hunched over his food.

“You’re just drawing more attention to yourself like that,” you let him know before turning back to Alex. “Valentina is here,” you say with a small raise of your brow and both Alex and Thalia immediately let out a little “ah”.

Thalia winces apologetically when she glances back at Jungkook. “I do believe that may be on me. My mother is in the same club as her mother so it seems an invitation was deemed non-negotiable, unfortunately,” she adds, placing subtle emphasis on the last word.

Jungkook shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, I was gonna end up seeing her again eventually at some point.”

Alex coughs, his expression changing. “I do believe that time is coming sooner than you want though.”

Jungkook frowns but you understand what Alex means, as does Thalia as you both look up just in time to see Valentina a few feet away, approaching your table.

With a smile that’s far too innocent for her, she stands at the edge of the table closest to Jungkook. “Well, hello there.”

Alex, being the sweetheart he is, is the first to respond to her greeting, and without surprise, Thalia follows quickly. “Thank you for coming,” Alex says as he gives her a quick hug.

“Thank you for having me.” Valentina steps to the side to greet Thalia too. “And congratulations, I’m so happy for both of you!”

“Thank you,” Thalia says with a genuine smile. As she takes her seat, you get up to greet her too.

“It’s nice to see you again, Val,” you say as you meet her in a brief hug, although you can’t say you mean it but you hold no animosity towards her.

“You too, Y/N,” she winks.

Before she even releases you, Jungkook is getting up and already avoiding eye contact with her. “Hey,” he says, just as she leans towards him too.

“Hello, Jungkook.” When she gives him a hug, it’s a little longer than your own but Jungkook doesn’t push away despite his expression looking like he wants to.

Alex, Thalia and you have to fight to keep your smiles contained.

“Gosh, it’s been so long, hasn’t it?” Valentina says as she steps back and takes a seat.

“I guess,” Jungkook says, showing little expression as he sits back down and resumes eating his breakfast.

“Oh, come on, it’s been almost two years.” She gives him a knowing expression before flicking her hair behind her shoulder with a flamboyant flair that’s signature for Valentina. “I’m sure you missed me.” She leans her elbows on the table. “I know I’ve missed you.”

Seeing Jungkook’s constipated expression, you step in to help him out. “We all missed you, Valentina,” you smile. “It’s impossible not to.” That’s not a lie either, although she was a big personality to deal with sometimes, she still knew how to have fun and was great to talk to.

“Thank you, Y/N,” she says, returning your smile before turning her attention back to Jungkook. “You still look as good as you always have too, Kookie.” She leans forward and squeezes his bicep, maybe one too many times. “You’re still going to the gym I see.”

Jungkook stiffens next to you, meanwhile, your eyes are fixated on her hand on his arm. In a gesture of support, you discreetly slip your hand behind his elbow.

Sitting across from you, your friends both notice this. Then, the cogs in the brilliant mind of Alexander Cirillo turn and he comes up with what can only be a genius idea. Perhaps it's all the romance he’s been experiencing recently with his own fiancee, but Alex is convinced that this can only have one outcome, the only possible outcome – the one that’s been written in the stars since Jungkook and you met so many years ago, he’s sure of it.

Beaming, Alex looks at Valentina. “Don’t they look so good together?”

She pauses then frowns. “Together?”

Your own expression matches Valentina’s as you glance at Alex too.

“Yes, together,” he repeats as a fact, smiling at Jungkook and you before looking at Valentina.

“You’ve heard, no? Jungkook and Y/N are together.”

From next to you, Jungkook swallows hard and your hand subconsciously tightens around his arm. Both of you are staring at Alex and he just gives you a subtle raise of his brow.

“Oh, my,” Valentina smiles, and although there’s some kind of genuinity to it, there’s more you can see but haven’t got the mental capacity to try to decipher right now when you’re still trying to figure out what Alex is doing.

“I should’ve known this was gonna happen, you always were inseparable,” she says with somewhat of an eye roll.

Jungkook laughs awkwardly, but he’s not stupid and he knows Alex isn’t either. This is one surefire way he can keep Valentina and any of her advances away from him for the next three weeks. All he has to do is pretend to be dating you… how hard can that be?

“Yeah, I guess it was meant to be,” he says, sounding a little stilted.

You’re still sitting a little dumbfounded but Thalia also gives you an expression that tells you to improvise better. The most you can manage is a meek smile.

Jungkook responds almost as awkwardly, putting his arm around you which makes Alex laugh.

“Oh, don’t be so coy,” he says, sneaking in a wink to you as Valentina’s eyes remain locked on you both. “It’s been almost what? Eight months?”

“Uh, yeah, almost,” you answer, suddenly feeling shy with the way Jungkook’s hand is gripping your waist.

It’s not like he’s never had his hand on your waist before — his face was all up in your boobs only fifteen minutes ago — but the feeling remains. It makes your cheeks go warm, your heart races a little faster and your fingers go fuzzy.

You’re sure it’s showing on your face but Valentina doesn’t seem to notice, or if she does, she must think it’s down to you finding this awkward.

“Well, congratulations to you too then,” she says, wearing a smile that doesn’t actually seem anything less than genuine, but you’re aware there’s more to her words.

“Thank you,” Jungkook and you say in unison.

Valentina nods, taking it as her cue to leave. “I’ll see you all around, and except for the engaged couple who get a pass, let’s keep the pda to a minimum please,” she adds airily, words directed to Jungkook and you as she saunters off.

“Can’t promise anything with these two,” Alex calls out after her.

When he looks back at you, he’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Thalia purses her lips in a smile that resembles a child trying not to laugh while they’re getting told off.

Turning to them, you burst. “What the hell was that?” you say hotly, seeming more flustered than anything else.

Alex shrugs. “Sorry, it was the best thing I could think of.”

“It could be worse,” Thalia adds with a smile that’s supposed to be apologetic but the gleam in her eyes tells you she’s finding this just as amusing as her fiancé.

Then, Jungkook shifts from beside you and only now do you realise you’re still holding his arm. “Well,” he says, briefly glancing down as you let go, “I guess we’re dating now.”

With a small raise of your brows, you shrug lightly and try not to show any signs of how flustered you’re feeling. “I guess so.”

When you meet his gaze, for a second you go still and think of what it means, how might you be expected to act with Jungkook — but really, it doesn’t seem that much different from how you already are now. Except of course, if you ever had to indulge in any public displays of affection, cheek kisses, lingering hugs, maybe even a peck on the lips…

The thought of it all sets loose a swirl of butterflies in your stomach and only then do you realise that your gaze is still locked on Jungkook, and he too, is still staring at you.

With those butterflies still swarming, you abruptly break away from his gaze and notice the tips of his ears are turning pink. You wonder if he’s thinking the same as you right now.

“See, already believable.”

Alex’s voice interrupts your thoughts and when you turn to flare at him, he’s got a smug smirk on his face.

“You’re supposed to be smart,” you say with a sigh, pushing down the butterflies that it almost seems like Alex knows all about. “Couldn’t have come up with something smarter?”

“This is smart,” Alex says with a hint of sass.

“How?” you sass back.

Leaning back, he puts his arm around Thalia as his smirk grows into a smile. “You’ll see, just give it some time,” he sighs, punctuating his sentence with a wink.

The end of the first night in Cartagena is celebrated with a formal dinner at a private venue with the most beautiful view of the coast.

The Cirillo’s had a special menu created of authentic foods from the town and the dishes were nothing less than exquisite. So much so that Alias and you are both slumped on a hammock on the balcony with bellies full and happy. A few of the guests walk past and side eye you both, probably because Alias has ungraciously undone the top button of his suit pants but it doesn’t bother either of you.

“Probably shouldn’t have eaten so much,” you mumble, looking up at the night sky.

“We’ve still got dessert,” Alias sighs, patting his belly.

“Well sitting there isn’t going to help,” Jungkook’s voice says from behind you.

Turning your head, you smile when you see Jungkook with two dessert plates in his hand. He comes and sits next to you, handing one to each of you.

Alias still manages to devour his serving in silence, but you take a little longer to eat, wondering if Valentina might be somewhere near now that Jungkook is here; you’re certain she’ll be keeping a closer eye on you both so you ought to be making a conscious effort to act more like a couple but you’re not really sure what else to do. Jungkook bringing you dessert seems couple-ish enough, even though it’s what you would do on a usual night anyway.

The three of you fall into a comfortable silence and you give Alias the rest of your dessert to finish as you collapse into the hammock again. As you do so, you feel Jungkook’s hand brush against yours and immediately you glance down at your hands, noticing how your arms and thighs are touching too. Again, it’s nothing unusual for you, but you start to wonder why it feels a little different now you’ve noticed it.

“Don’t look now,” he says, voice barely a murmur, “but she’s watching us.”

When you hum quietly in acknowledgement, his fingers brush the back of yours tentatively again and for some reason unrelated to the wind that’s blowing, you feel your skin prickling. Releasing a small breath, Jungkook curls his hand, fingers slipping between yours. The pads of your fingers press against him and you return your focus to the night sky above rather than the weird way your heart is beating now.

From your other side, Alias lets out a satisfied sigh before sitting back beside you. “So,” he says without missing a beat, “what’s up between you guys?”

“Hm?” You look at him with a small frown.

“You heard me,” he repeats with the signature boyish grin that he and his brother share. It’s enough to let you know that he knows.

“We’re, uh, together,” Jungkook answers.

Alias snorts. “You gotta sound more convincing than that, Jungkook.”

“I’d like to see you pretend to date someone,” you say, nudging his side.

Shifting to face you, Alias raises a brow. “That’s easy, watch and learn, lover boy.” He leans closer, arm moving across your chest to touch some hair behind your ears.

You get his point – Alias is close enough to lean in and kiss you if he wanted to, and the small action seems intimate enough since you’re almost laying down with him beside you.

His hand gently traces down your cheek and you giggle, finding it funny as he keeps glancing at Jungkook who shoves him back before he goes any further.

“Alright, I get it,” Jungkook says, somehow shifting even closer to you.

When you glance at him, you can’t help but giggle at his expression. He looks a little annoyed, and although you don’t think it, anyone else might think he’s crossed the fine line to jealous — Alias certainly does.

“Alright, I know, hands off your girlfriend,” he says, raising his hands in surrender.

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook mutters, “Yeah, whatever.”

Alias just chuckles, leaning back and resting his palm behind his head but unlucky for him, his moment of rest is short lived.

“Oh for goodness sake Alias!” The hushed whisper of Mrs Cirillo has all of your heads turning. She appears out of nowhere beside the hammock, a look of shock and horror on her face. “Is there a reason you’re basking in the sunset with your trousers half undone?”

“Actually,” Alias says unbothered, holding up a finger, “only the zipper is undone, so by the length of the trousers, mother, they’re nowhere near half undone.”

Frustrated, she glances around. “People must be thinking all sorts.” She looks at Jungkook and you who smile awkwardly, sitting up straight as you hope not to get scolded.

Mrs Cirillo is no stranger when it comes to teaching etiquette and given the many years of friendship between your families, she’s definitely not a stranger to teaching you a few things, and over the years, Jungkook too.

She sighs when she looks at you. “Darling, you look beautiful. Jungkook, you too, please teach my son a thing or two.” She sighs again impatiently and Alias grumbles next to you as he does up his zipper. “Now, when you’ve made yourself decent, please come with me, your father wants you to meet someone,” she says, not waiting for a response.

Alias groans. “Who? I thought I had met them all.”

“Not this one,” Mrs Cirillo replies airily as she’s still walking away. “He’s just joined us tonight.”

Like the dutiful son he is, Alias gets up and follows his mother, though not without groaning about it some more.

Jungkook and you watch him go, but just like Alias, your moment of rest is short lived.

“Um, Y/N…” Jungkook’s voice sounds apprehensive and when you look at him, his expression seems the same. He’s stretching his neck and looking out towards the opposite direction of the balcony towards the main hall. “Is that… Valentina, with your parents?”

Standing up to get a better look, you realise that Jungkook is right. Valentina is mid-way greeting your parents, your mom leaning in to give her a hug.

Looking down at Jungkook, you both realise at the same time – your parents don’t know about the two of you.

Jungkook doesn’t wait for you to say anything and instead – with zero regard for the high heels on your feet – he grabs your hand and rushes you towards them.

“Ow, wait, Jungkook, slow down!”

“Can’t,” he says, although you feel his pace slow down a little. “She’s gonna say something, of course she is.”

Jungkook isn’t wrong and the look on your parents face as you’re less than a few feet away from them tells you that Valentina has just said it. Your dad looks confused and your mom is frowning, her head tilting in the way it does when she’s not sure she believes something.

“Mom!”

She turns her head to the sound of your voice, as does Valentina and your father.

“Dad,” you smile, catching your breath as Jungkook and you stop in front of them.

Jungkook chuckles awkwardly next to you and you feel his hand go around your waist. “Sorry to, uh, interrupt…” he purposely avoids Valentina’s gaze. “We just, uh,” he glances at you, “we had a question.”

“Well, so do we,” your dad starts, looking at you with the same confused expression. “What—”

“The dresses for the couple dance!” you blurt, knowing exactly what your father was about to ask. It would totally blow your cover if it seemed like your parents didn’t know about Jungkook so you need to come up with something fast. “We need to know the colours of the dresses for the couple’s dance, for the wedding.”

If your dad looked confused before, he looks almost dumbfounded now. “A couple’s dance?”

“Y/N, what couple dance?” your mom asks somewhat impatiently and you’re certain she wants to ask the same question your dad was about to, which is most likely about Jungkook and you.

“The one for the wedding,” Jungkook answers for you. “All the couples are doing a dance after Alex and Thalia, you know? At the wedding.” He squeezes your waist gently and you chuckle.

“Exactly,” you say, taking your mom's hand discreetly. “Since Jungkook and I are dancing together, well, he needs to know the colour of my dress and I’ve forgotten.” You say it with no hesitation but with the way you’re squeezing her hand repeatedly, your mom still seems confused.

She glances at Valentina who is now staring at Jungkook’s hand right around your waist, before glancing back at you.

Taking advantage of Valentina’s momentary lapse in attention, you give her a subtle raise of your brow and hope that mother-daughter telepathy is a real thing.

“A couple’s dance?” your father asks again. “Honey, I didn’t know about this,” he says to your mom.

“Well, yes, I suppose I forgot to tell you,” she says, squeezing your hand back and you let out a grateful sigh of relief, as does Jungkook.

“Y/N, your dress is periwinkle blue for the party,” she says to you before looking at Jungkook. You can see the apprehension in her expression though it’s only noticeable to you. “Jungkook, sweetheart, I’ll make sure your suit is matching with Y/N’s of course.”

“Thank you,” he nods, lips pursed.

Together, you glance at Valentina who already seems bored.

“Well, I’ll come find you later, Mrs L/N,” she says, already turning to step away.

Your mom says a quick goodbye before Jungkook and you are left alone with her and your dad.

“Is there a reason I didn’t know about this couple's dance?”

Letting out a small laugh, Jungkook pats your dad's shoulder. “Sorry, we made that up, there isn’t a couple’s dance.“

“There isn’t?”

“No, there isn’t,” your mom answers, her brow raises as she looks between Jungkook and you. “But what I would like to know is why we just had to lie and why on earth is Valentina congratulating your father and I about you two and your relationship?”

“It’s because of me,” Jungkook answers immediately which prompts a look of surprise from your parents. “I just wanted an easy way to keep away from Valentina and saying I’m with Y/N was the best way for me to do it.” He lowers his head looking a bit ashamed.

“Well it was actually Alex who said it first,” you say, stepping forward. “He pretty much roped us into it with Valentina right there, we were clueless.” You take Jungkook’s arm and smile at your parents. “It’s just a little white lie and honestly as long as Jungkook and I are okay with it, then it’s harmless.”

“And you are okay with it?” your dad asks.

“Sure.”

Your mother frowns, the apprehension still not having left her expression. “And Jungkook… you’re okay with it too?”

Jungkook nods. “Very okay with it.”

“Alright then, but just be wary.” Your mom glances between you both. She opens her mouth as if to say more but shakes her head instead. “Who else knows?”

“Alex, Thalia, Alias, and now you both.”

“Hm, if you want to keep it a secret then I would keep it to that. The more people who know the more likely it is to come out.”

“Yes, I agree,” your dad says, frowning as he thinks. “Although I do think it would make sense to tell Leon and Helena.”

Your mom agrees with him. “I suppose it does but it’s up to you both.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, brows raising. It’s not unusual for your parents to share something with the Cirillo’s, but when it’s something like this, a lie, you don’t imagine your parents telling them.

Jungkook shuffles awkwardly. “Uh, they’re coming over now.”

Your mom looks up, smiling as they come over. “Yes, Y/N, after all it’s not really such a big lie. Jungkook and you do everything together anyway, how much more different can this be?”

“Right,” you nod, confused by the sentiment those words make you feel — perhaps Alex isn’t so wrong, maybe you do do everything with Jungkook. It must be giving the wrong idea to people…

Though that doesn’t matter now since you need to seem like you’re dating him.

“Just who I was looking for,” Mrs Cirillo beams as she approaches, but instead of looking at your mom, she’s looking at you.

“Me?” you ask, surprised.

“Yes.” She looks at Jungkook too. “And you.”

Jungkook shares the same expression as you. “Me?”

“Oh, yes, and don’t act so shy either of you.” Her smile seems rather cheeky, as does Mr Cirillo’s who stands beside her. “What’s this I hear about you two dating now, hm?”

“Oh.” Smiling hesitantly, you prepare yourself to tell them the truth as well. This feels a bit different though because you can see the excitement in Mrs Cirillo’s face, even in Mr Cirillo.

“I mean it’s about time,” Mr Cirillo says with a deep chuckle, looking at your parents to agree.

Jungkook looks rather pained as he looks between them both. “Who told you?”

“Alias, of course,” Mrs Cirillo says. “He said you’ve been keeping it a secret for some time though I don’t see why, this is wonderful news!”

She waves her hand with the statement and with it, a part of you suddenly feels like you’re being let down by yourself. It’s odd to see them so happy for Jungkook and you, only for it not to be real.

You don’t blame them though — you’ve only been pretending to date Jungkook for a day but you’re already starting to see Alex’s point a little bit more. Having Jungkook by your side just feels right.

Come to think of it, if anyone else asked you to pretend to be their girlfriend for a few weeks, you’d definitely say no. It would be hard to act so close with someone not only emotionally but physically, whereas thinking of the way Jungkook was so close to your side just a little while ago on the hammock, fingers curled around yours, you feel yourself coil at even the thought of being with anyone else.

That’s not unusual though, right? The only reason you can’t imagine it with anyone else is because Jungkook is your best friend. He’s the guy you’re most comfortable around and so you feel safe with him. Thoughts pausing, your gaze drifts to him as you briefly zone out from whatever joke Mrs Cirillo is making.

Jungkook still looks on hesitantly and the way his bottom lip moves, you can tell he’s waiting to say something. As soon as he sees his chance and quickly gets a word in. “Oh, well, actually, Mrs Cirillo, it’s not really real.”

She looks towards him and frowns a little. “What do you mean?” There’s disappointment in her tone that you (for some unknown reason) can relate to.

“It’s more of a make believe relationship, if that’s one way to put it,” your dad answers albeit looking confused himself.

Mr Cirillo appears to be on the same brainwave as your dad as he looks confused too. “That’s absurd. I believe it very much.”

“Yes, yes,” Mrs Cirillo says, nodding. “Who wouldn’t?”

Pushing aside your own confused feelings, you help clear up this mess. “What we’re trying to say is that it’s not a real relationship.” You glance at Jungkook who looks at you and nods. “We’re just pretending to date.”

“Oh.” Their expressions fall, small frowns replacing the excitement in their eyes.

“Why would you do that?” Mr Cirillo asks.

“My ex is on the cruise,” Jungkook answers. “You probably remember her, Valentina?”

There’s a few seconds of quiet until Mr Cirillo finds the name familiar. “Ah, yes, tall girl, Forero if I’m not mistaken?”

Jungkook nods, lips pursed.

“So she’s the reason you’re doing this?” Mrs Cirillo gestures between Jungkook and you.

Jungkook nods again.

She sighs quietly. “Honestly, it all seems a bit fuddy duddy, Valentina is harmless. There’s better ways to keep someone away, Jungkook, wouldn’t it be better to just ask her to stay away from you?”

“That might come across as more rude than this,” you say with a shrug. “Also, we ought to mention that this was all Alex’s idea.”

“Alex?!” Mrs Cirillo exclaims. “Did he even ask you first?”

“Nope,” you shake your head with a smile having absolutely no qualms throwing your best friend under the bus.

“Oh, why didn’t you say so sooner?” Mrs Cirillo turns and reaches for her husband's hand. “Leon, I do believe that boy is getting almost as troublesome as his older brother.”

Mr Cirillo laughs. “Oh, it’s just a little fun, besides, having Jungkook and Y/N pretending to play house can’t be all that bad.” He turns to Jungkook and you and winks.

You return his cheek with a smile. “It’s actually easier than it looks.”

“I’m sure it is,” he quips with a quick raise of his brow. His smirk seems telling but you don’t think anything of it at the moment as you feel Jungkook’s hand on your arm.

“Just don’t tell anyone please,” he says, chuckling nervously.

“Of course not,” Mrs Cirillo says. “I think Alex may have been onto something anyway.” She glances towards your mom and they share a smile. “Let’s get something to drink, hm?”

Your mom laughs, taking her arm. “Yes, please, I need one.”

Together, they walk off and to you it looks like they’re high schoolers sharing secrets again — you’re sure they’re going to have lots to talk about again today.

Mr Cirillo chuckles as they go off. “Three guesses what they’re talking about,” he says quietly to your dad who shares a smile with his friend before they both turn to Jungkook and you.

“Well, I think I’m going to go and look for more dessert,” you say, slowly taking a step back to excuse yourself and Jungkook.

“Yeah, I’m gonna do that too,” Jungkook says, nodding his head at your dad and Mr Cirillo.

“Of course, I’ll see you later on,” your dad smiles. His eyes fall to where Jungkook’s hand is holding your arm and his smile grows just a little wider but before you can think anything of it, Mr Cirillo makes a comment.

“That’s a nice suit you’re wearing, Jungkook.” He nods, looking visibly impressed.

“Thanks.”

Mr Cirillo continues. “I remember when you would wear your suits from those high street stores with the cheap labels but look at you now, kid.”

Pausing in your slow retreat, you blink. You’ve known Mr Cirillo all your life so you know that the comment really holds no ill intent, and also bearing in mind the fact that you know just how much he has come to admire Jungkook and cares for him as much as he does for you, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay for Mr Cirillo to make a comment like that.

Jungkook only smiles, though he doesn’t need to say anything for anyone to see that the backhanded compliment isn’t appreciated. He continues to step away but now you’re rooted firmly in the spot.

“Well with a personality like his and far more brains than most people combined, Jungkook has never needed material to make him look good, wouldn’t you agree, Mr Cirillo?” Your expression is friendly enough but your tone? Not so much.

He smiles awkwardly, immediately having understood his mistake. “Does that mean the opposite for myself?” he asks lightly.

“Oh, I’ve never thought so,” you say, smiling plastically. “Those words came from your own mouth.”

Mr Cirillo laughs. “You’re a sharp one, Y/N. That's why I like you a lot.”

“Likewise, Leon,” you wink, reaching for Jungkook’s arm. “Now we’ll be off.”

Mr Cirillo still chuckles and you catch your dad smiling at you as you walk away with Jungkook.

“Did you just call him ugly?” Jungkook asks with a small laugh once you're out of earshot.

“I didn’t call him anything,” you shrug.

He laughs again, coming to a stop with you near the dessert table where you both browse the selection. “You know I could’ve answered myself though,” he says after a moment.

Taking your pick, you turn to him with a small pout. It’s not the first time someone has made a comment about Jungkook that has annoyed you more than him, and you know that Jungkook prefers to pick and choose his battles wisely, unlike you always feeling as though you have to say something.

“I know, sorry,” you wince a little. “Force of habit.”

“It’s okay,” he smiles, taking a bowl of Eton mess.

Together, you start walking towards the same hammock you were previously sitting at.

“I actually think it’s kinda cute,” he adds.

Your brows raise inquisitively. “Having me as your knight in shining armour?”

He shrugs, taking a spoonful into his mouth as you both sit down. “More like my princess with her many privileges.” His lips curl into a smile as he says it.

Laughing, you lean back comfortably into the hammock. “Well, of course, Mr Cirillo wouldn’t dare say anything to me.”

“And no one else other than you would insult Mr Cirillo to his face.”

Holding up your fork, you laugh again. “I only implied, there’s a difference.”

Jungkook hums, leaning back next to you. He takes a big spoonful into his mouth, eating this slowly while you steal some of his. Swallowing, he sits up a little beside you. “You know, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Looking up at him, you frown. “Do what?”

“Pretend to date me.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to?”

He shrugs. “If it makes you uncomfortable, or even if you just don’t want to.”

“I don’t mind,” you say, sitting up with him.

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, watching your expression for any signs of a lie. “You sure?”

“I’m sure,” you repeat.

With those words, Jungkook seems to relax. “Okay.” Faint traces of a smile appear on his face as he leans back.

“The soap here smells amazing,” Thalia says, bringing her hands to her nose to sniff again a few times after drying them.

Tossing your used hand towel in the hamper, you take a sniff too. “Mm, it does. I smell coconut.”

“And yuzu,” Thalia says, still inhaling the smell.

Laughing, you pull her hands away from her nose as you walk out of the washroom together.

The corridor is dimly lit as you walk back towards the restaurant but you’re very impressed by the interior, the burgundy and golden interior of this part of the venue complimenting each other well, especially with the many plants lining the corridors.

“Where’s Alex?” you ask.

“Somewhere around here,” Thalia answers. “Honestly I lost him an hour ago after he went to check out the golf course here.”

“There’s a golf course here?” you ask, surprised. Though really you don’t know why you’re surprised, walking to the bathroom was a mission on its own, this place is huge.

“Yeah they have everything, tennis courts, basketball, there’s even a riding school.”

At that, your ears perk up. “Are the horses available to hire?”

Thalia turns to you with a smile. “You wanna go for a canter?”

“Can we?” You ask, eyes lighting up too. “Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve been riding.”

“We’ll have to ask but I’m sure my dad could sort something out for us. Although we have booked a resort for when we get to Barcelona and later on in Malta too. They’re renowned for their riding instructors.”

Laughing, you walk around the next corner together. “How have you booked resorts while we’re on a cruise? I bet Mrs Cirillo had something to do with it,” you add, knowing that she always has to have everything and the best of it for her kids.

Thalia nods with a smile. “My mom and yeah, Helena. They’ve been planning this for a year, of course there’s going to be something for everyone.”

“Strippers?” you ask, brows raising.

“Except that.”

“Hm, fair,” you say, frowning as you walk around another corner. “Anyway, I don’t really care for the instructors but it’ll have to be Barcelona. I just wanna ride, it’s been so long since I last went.”

Thalia agrees. “Sure, I’ll ask my dad, I’m pretty sure he’s already friends with the owner of the one in Barcelona so it should be easy.”

“Great,” you smile, excited by the thought, though your smile turns into a frown as you realise you’re walking by the same door you just walked out of a little while ago.

At the same time, Thalia slows down. “Are we lost?” she asks.

Looking up at the women’s washroom sign, your frown deepens. “Yeah, I think we’ve just gone in a circle.” You look up and down the corridor, taking a few steps in the opposite direction from which you just came to follow a different path. “Maybe we should try going left from here instead?”

“There really should be a clearer exit,” Thalia huffs. “My feet hurt.”

Laughing, you glance back at her. “I don’t think anyone was taking into account the fact that people might be walking in 6-inch heels down these corridors– oh.” Mid-sentence, you bump into someone as you’re walking around the next corner. “Sorry,” you say, looking up at the guy as you feel steady hands on your arms to stop you from stumbling.

“I’m so sorry,” he says at the same time, looking down.

Oh.

His brows knit together before a smile breaks out on his face. “Y/N?”

“Lawrence!” A smile appears on your face embarrassingly fast. “Hi!”

He chuckles softly, taking a step back and taking his hands with him. You don’t know whether to appreciate the sweetness or be sad they’re gone.

Lawrence Goldman is one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever laid eyes on with a personality to match, and he was your high school crush for years. He was everyone’s crush to be honest, but even in uni, you never were able to stop swooning over him, but that’s all it’s ever been, a crush. For some reason, you could never let yourself take it further despite him showing interest a few times.

“It’s been so long, my gosh, how are you?” he asks, eyes skimming your figure. “You look absolutely amazing,” he adds without a second thought.

“Hey again,” Thalia says, appearing beside you.

Lawrence gives her a smile, his attention quickly returning to you.

“I’m great,” you beam, “how are you? I’m surprised to see you, I thought you were working in Singapore?”

“I am,” he nods before looking at Thalia. “Well I was, but there was no way I was gonna miss this one’s wedding.”

Thalia laughs, putting her arm around him briefly. “Love you for it, Goldie.”

Lawrence rolls his eyes at the nickname and you smile. Thalia and Lawrence attended the same prep school before reuniting in college, and it’s through Lawrence that Thalia was introduced to Alex and the rest of you — your world is apparently a very small world so Lawrence being here really shouldn’t be a surprise to you, but with everything else going on, you may have forgotten about Lawrence.

“I’ve only just joined because I had a meeting I couldn’t miss yesterday,” he adds, eyes skimming down your figure once more while he thinks you’re still smiling at Thalia but you definitely don’t miss it.

“Ah, I see.” You can’t help it when you mirror his actions, noting how the top two buttons of his shirt are undone, giving a peak of the chain he’s always worn since he Longbottom-ed — he clearly knows the effect it has. “So you’re joining us for the rest of the cruise?” When your eyes meet his again, his lips curl into a smirk.

“Yes,” he nods. “I’ll be here.”

Noticing Thalia glancing between you both, you realise you ought to stop whatever weirdness is going on right now before she thinks there’s something between you, not that she won’t ask you herself anyway.

“Well that’s great,” you smile, taking a step closer to Thalia’s side.

“Mhm, I’m looking forward to spending time with you,” he says.

Your response is on the top of your tongue — “so am I” — and you intend to say it with a flutter of your lashes, but before you can say anything, Thalia answers for you.

“We all are,” she grins, hand winding around your waist where she squeezes with a light force when she says the next words. “Including Jungkook and Alex.”

For a second you’re confused but the mention of Jungkook sparks your memory and you remember everything that’s happened in the past few days.

Jungkook and you are dating — you realise now why Thalia interjected and she was right to do so, otherwise you might’ve made a silly mess by opening yourself up to flirting with Lawrence.

“Oh, yes,” you answer, perking up. “Jungkook will definitely be happy to see you I’m sure, it’s been a while since we all met last.”

“Yeah?” Lawrence casually responds.

“Of course,” Thalia says with a wiggle of her brows. “Y/N is his girlfriend, she would know of course.”

As you smile dutifully, you catch the confusion briefly show on Lawrence’s face before he quickly disguises it as surprise. “You and Jungkook?” he says, lips turning into a smile. It’s the kind of smile that could mean many things.

“Yep,” you nod, lips pursed in a smile.

Something resembling a sigh leaves him. “You guys will have to catch me up on that for sure,” he says.

“There’ll be lots to catch you up on,” Thalia grins, “but right now, can we figure out how to get out of here?”

Lawrence chuckles, stepping to the side. “Of course, I know the way.” He gestures towards the left, waiting for you and Thalia to pass.

As you fall into stride with Thalia on one side and Lawrence on the other side, you can’t help but feel some kind of disappointment at Lawrence’s reaction, though what did you expect?

Of course he’s not going to say or do anything differently, and as long as you’ve agreed to be Jungkook’s girlfriend, you shouldn’t want him to react any differently. You’re lucky Thalia stepped in when she did or you might’ve completely forgotten you’re supposed to be in a relationship with someone else and would’ve ended up blowing the story for Jungkook entirely.

“Ah, here we are!” Thalia skips forward out into the late evening night.

The view on the balcony now is even more beautiful with fairy lights adorning the trees along its perimeter. Everyone you recognise seems to be congregating towards one area as it’s almost time to leave to board the cruise ship again.

“Oh there you are.” Jungkook appears from the middle of the crowd, not seeming to have noticed Lawrence who’s more closely following Thalia. “We’re leaving soon, here.” He hands you your purse you left with him a while earlier.

“Thanks,” you answer, taking it and checking you haven’t left anything else. “Sorry, we got a bit lost inside.”

“Mhm, that’s fine, I was just about to come look for you anyway,” Jungkook says, looking at Thalia and only then does he notice Lawrence. The lines expressing concern in his face deepen into confusion.

Seeing this change, Lawrence smiles. “Hey mate.”

In a split second Jungkook’s confused frown changes to a smile. “Lawrence!” Reaching forward, the two share a pleasant exchange.

“It’s been a while, how’ve you been?”

“Not bad, yourself?”

Jungkook nods. “I’ve been alright.”

“Better than alright from what I hear,” Lawrence says, brow raising as he glances in your direction.

Jungkook’s gaze follows and you smile with a little shrug, subtly nodding at Jungkook.

“Ah.” Jungkook chuckles, taking a step towards your side. “Well, yeah, better than alright,” he confirms with a very believable smile.

Lawrence laughs, looking between you. From behind him, you catch Thalia standing beside Alex as they watch the interaction play out.

“I think it’s amazing,” Lawrence says, patting Jungkook’s arm. “You two are great together.”

“You’ve only just seen us again,” you say with a smile.

“Hm, I’ve seen it for years,” Lawrence replies with a nod of his head and a small sigh as he looks at you. He’s still smiling but when you look at him, the brightness in his eyes has faded. “Trust me,” he says quieter than before, “I was always watching.”

Pursing your lips, you smile but you still feel self conscious as his gaze on you doesn’t budge. “That sounds a little stalker-ish, Lawrence,” you chuckle.

Laughing, he shrugs. “Might’ve been. I always was a bit of a recluse.”

“I wouldn’t say you were a recluse.”

He arches his brow, lips morphing into a cocky smile. “Then what would you say I was?”

Mirroring his expression, you scoff. “What d’you want me to say, huh? Tall, handsome and mysterious?”

“Took the words right from my mouth,” he says smugly.

“Ha,” you laugh. Despite it being somewhat true, you respond to say otherwise. “You wish.”

Lawrence smiles. “Ah, I guess those words are reserved for this one, huh?” He nods towards Jungkook.

“Hm…” you look towards Jungkook who smiles with his lips pursed. It’s not his usual full smile and behind it there seems to be a reservation that tells you he’s being more quiet than usual. Nudging him gently, you beam when he meets your eyes. “Nah, I’ve got better words for this one.”

He nods and chuckles quietly but only briefly.

You wonder what’s caused the shift in his mood since he seemed so bright only a moment ago when greeting Lawrence.

“Oh, you’ll have to tell me all about it, I’m interested to hear how things happened between you,” Lawrence says.

Humming quietly, you nod as your attention remains on Jungkook. “Some other time, I think we need to get moving now,” you say, nodding towards the crowd of moving guests ahead of you.

“Ah, yes,” he answers, turning to look behind him. “I’ll see you around though, yeah?” He places his hand on your arm.

You don’t pay much attention to it but feel Jungkook pull on your hand gently.

“Yeah man, we’ll see you around,” he says, reaching to pat Lawrence’s arm.

Lawrence nods, throwing you a smile before he turns and joins the rest of your party.

As he walks away, Jungkook turns to you. “Shall we go too?”

You nod, allowing him to lead the way, hand still in yours. There’s a hum of conversation around you as everyone makes their way back towards the cars to take you to the port, but you’re grateful no one interrupts the two of you as you walk alone, a little behind the rest.

“You okay?” you ask after a quiet moment.

Jungkook answers almost right away. “Yeah. You?”

“Mhm.” You watch him as he kicks some of the sand beneath his feet with every step. “You sure though?”

He turns to look at you, a smile on his lips though his brows furrow a little in the middle. “Yeah, why?”

“Just,” you shrug. “I thought you seemed a bit quiet back there with Lawrence.”

Jungkook turns away and shrugs. “I’m all good, no reason not to be.”

It’s not exactly convincing to you, but you take his word for it. If it’s something he wants to tell you, he’ll tell you in his own time if he wants to. Or, it’s actually just nothing and you’re overthinking this for no reason. After all, there is no explanation that you can think of for Jungkook to be upset with Lawrence, especially when he was so happy to see him just now. Yes, you’re just overthinking it.

“Y/N, Jungkook, please be on time for breakfast tomorrow and not an hour late like last time,” your mother scolds airily as she waves her hand behind her.

“Yes, mom,” you smile as she turns into her cabin.

“Will do,” Jungkook nods, raising a hand to say good night to your parents.

Once their door is closed, Jungkook continues to walk with you towards your cabin.

“You better wake up earlier this time,” you yawn, pulling out your key card.

Jungkook scoffs, coming to a stop next to your door. “Me?!” He rests his hand against the door frame, leaning closer. “You’re the one who was still sleeping when I came down.”

Smiling, you shake your head. “You have no proof.”

He matches your smile, cocking his head. “Alright, I’m recording you tomorrow morning, don’t get mad at me when I get your bed head and dried dribble face on camera.”

“Hey,” you pout, leaning against the door frame. “I don’t dribble.”

Jungkook shrugs, smiling. ”Tomorrow I’ll have proof.”

You narrow your eyes at him, internally vowing to wake up early so you can be ready before he comes to you. “There’s no—“

“Oh, Jungkook, Y/N!”

The sickeningly sweet cotton candy voice has your smile faltering. Jungkook winces, his face hidden from Valentina as she approaches from behind you.

Slowly, you turn around to face her.

“Well isn’t this just perfect,” she beams, coming to stop beside you both. “We’re neighbours here!”

Chuckling, you nod your head. “That really is perfect.”

Valentine smiles again, glancing between the two of you before shrugging. “Well,” she sighs, opening her purse to look for her key card. “Don’t mind me, I was just grabbing a few things. You two enjoy your night.” She waves airily but doesn’t move.

“Mhm, you too,” you nod.

As she pulls out her key card, she’s just about to walk away before she pauses to focus on Jungkook and a delicate frown appears on her face.

Glancing at him, you’re not surprised to see she’s frowning. Jungkook hasn’t said a word and he looks rather pained right now.

“Jungkook, are you okay?” She tilts her head. “You look a little…” She steps closer, frown deepening as she moves until all of a sudden she stops. “Oh.” Her eyes widen, an apologetic pout appearing on her face. “I see, was I interrupting something?” She asks, pointing between you both.

For a second you’re confused — yes, she interrupted your conversation with Jungkook and she knows that already — but then you remember that you’re supposed to be in a romantic relationship with Jungkook, and the expression on Valentina's face tells you she thinks she’s interrupted something else.

Jungkook is obviously just as confused. “Huh?”

“You’re both going to bed now, are you not?”

He frowns. “Uh, yeah…”

“Yes, I thought so. Apologies then…” She glances down towards Jungkook’s crotch as the words that follow imply it — “oh, sorry, I must’ve put that fire out.”

A strangled noise escapes Jungkook’s throat and he looks relatively mortified. “What?— no!” He takes a step closer to your side while you somehow pull him closer to your side protectively in an attempt to hide him from her.

Valentina doesn’t respond to the expressions on neither of your faces and only sighs disappointedly, flipping her hair behind her shoulder. “I remember there was a time when I was the one to ignite the fire in your loins.”

The same strangled noise comes from Jungkook and you have to stop from bursting out into laughter.

“Val,” Jungkook says, “were you not going somewhere?”

“Oh, yes.” She perks up, smiling brightly again. “Well you two lovebirds go ahead.”

Just when you expect her to walk away, she doesn’t. In fact she stands there waiting for Jungkook and you to go into what she thinks is your shared cabin.

“We will,” Jungkook says with the fakest smile you’ve seen on him.

Valentina only nods, still waiting.

Jungkook is about to say something again but you know there’s no point. Unlocking your door, you pull him into your room with you. “Bye, Val.”

“Good night,” you hear her respond as the door closes shut.

Turning around to face Jungkook, you look at him with an expression crossed between shock and amusement. “Oh my God, how did you ever date her?!”

Jungkook groans, collapsing face down onto the end of your bed. “I swear she isn’t that bad, she’s doing it on purpose,” he says, muffled into the sheets.

Humming, you sit at the end of your bed beside him. “I guess so.” You lie down so you’re level with him.

Lying beside him, it’s quiet for a moment as you replay the exchange in your head. “So, she must’ve really been something if she was igniting the fire in your loins.” You can’t help but snort after saying it and Jungkook laughs beside you too, head still buried.

Now that Valentina isn’t here, you allow yourself to laugh at it and you’re glad Jungkook does too. By the time you’re done laughing at it, you’re wiping away tears.

Lifting his head, he shakes his head. “This isn’t gonna be easy,” he says.

“Yeah, she really doesn’t make it easy,” you respond quietly.

Both of you fall silent for a moment again, listening carefully to see if you can hear her footsteps.

“I can’t hear her anymore,” Jungkook says.

“Me neither.” You turn to look at him.

He props himself up on his elbows. “So what now?”

“Well, we could wait till she goes away and then you sneak out,” you think aloud. “But how are we gonna do that every night?”

Jungkook nods, understanding. “So I should just stay?”

“I’m cool with it if you are,” you shrug.

For a moment, Jungkook doesn’t say anything, then he looks at you with a soft frown creasing his forehead. “Are you sure?”

“Totally sure,” you nod, rolling onto your side to lean on your elbow. “Besides, it’s not like we’ve made things easy for ourselves,” you add with a laugh.

The lines seem to have disappeared from Jungkook’s face but when your eyes search for some kind of clue to his feelings, you find something you can’t decipher hiding behind the brown of his eyes.

He smiles, releasing a soft breath as he does so, and only now do you realise how close your face is to his.

“Promise me you’ll tell me if you feel uncomfortable?” he says.

Nodding, you lift your pinky finger.

He raises his own hand and closes his own pinky finger around yours.

“I will,” you promise him.

His smile grows and oddly, you feel your heart do a little flutter in your chest as a warm feeling spreads through you. You’re suddenly reminded of how you felt earlier on in the evening as you lay on the balcony with Jungkook… has he always made you feel this way? Before you can let yourself think about it, Jungkook is leaping off the bed and with him, the feeling disappears.

“So, I don’t plan on having your mum tell me off tomorrow morning so I’m going to sleep.” He turns to look at you, placing his hand on his hips. “Slight problem though, my clothes are in my cabin.”

“Then go get them, duh,” you answer.

“What if Valentina is still outside?” he says, pointing to the door. “It’s only been a few minutes, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s trying to eavesdrop on us right now.”

“Hmm…” you can’t deny he has a point. “Well I guess,” you say, dropping your voice to a whisper, “you won’t know until you try.”

“Alright,” Jungkook sighs, grabbing his phone from the bed.

You follow him to the door and you’re actually almost surprised when he opens it to reveal no one is there. Jungkook turns to look at you sporting a similar expression on his face and shrugs before stepping out.

“I guess that makes things easier for us—“

You’re interrupted mid-sentence as Jungkook immediately turns back into the room with a slightly panicked expression, barging into you.

“Jungkook!” Losing your balance, you feel yourself falling backwards with Jungkook stumbling forward. Your ass hits the floor first and you just manage to bring your arms behind you in time but your head still hits the carpeted floor behind you, and Jungkook who seems to fall in slow motion with you, eventually lands on top of you.

“Oh I’m sorry,” he mumbles, pushing himself up onto his forearms.

“That really hurt,” you groan, squirming on the floor. You’re grateful the floor is carpeted but both your head and ass still hurt.

Jungkook looks down at you with concern replacing any previous features. “Where?”

Rubbing the back of your head, you frown at him. “Everywhere. Why’d you turn back?”

“She’s right there!” Jungkook suddenly whispers instead. “She was practically having sex against the wall with some guy.”

Still recovering from your fall, you look at him confused. “What?”

Jungkook grimaces. “She was outside her room with some guy.”

“But we just saw her!” you respond in a hushed whisper.

“I know! He must’ve been close by and they were making out like their lives depended on—”

“Well, this is interesting.”

Rolling your eyes at the sound of her voice, you let your head drop back onto the floor while Jungkook scrambles to move off of you. Moving beside you, he reveals Valentina standing at the door, her lipstick smudged and her hair a bit messier than it was a little while earlier.

She narrows her eyes, placing her hands on her hips. “Foreplay on the floor is new to me, and leaving the door open…” She looks directly at Jungkook. “I didn’t know you were into voyeurism.”

Jungkook visibly freaks out, getting up and pulling you with him. “No, gosh, it was an accident.”

Valentina frowns. “I don’t judge, Jungkook,” she says matter-of-factly.

“I wouldn’t care if you did,” he replies almost exasperatedly. “But this was just an accident, we fell over.”

“Hm, okay,” she says with a shrug as she glances at the bed.

You know she doesn’t believe him but really there’s nothing else you can say to make her think otherwise. Besides, you don’t really care what she thinks while your head still hurts.

“Well, anyway, I’ve got to go.” She looks back at you with a smirk. “How about we both do our best to keep it down tonight, hm?” she winks before turning and fluttering her fingers. “Ta-ta angels, see you in the morning!”

As soon as she’s disappeared from view, you go shut the door behind her, leaning against the wood.

“Okay, she is so doing it on purpose.”

“I know,” Jungkook agrees almost immediately. “I don’t get why though.”

“I know why,” you say, raising your brows. “She probably still isn’t over you.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “If anything, she’s just not used to people moving on from her. Her exes were always all over her when we were together.”

“So she expects you to go crawling back to her?”

“Pretty much,” he shrugs. “She’s really not helping herself though. Maybe I should talk to her, tell her to just give me space…” He looks at you, raising his brow in question.

“You could, but I reckon she’ll just act innocent and pretend she has no clue what you’re talking about.”

“True,” Jungkook sighs.

“Look, it’s fine,” you say, walking over to the drawer. “It’s just Val, nothing we haven’t dealt with before.” Throwing a set of satin pyjamas on the bed, you turn around to face him again. “Besides, I’m tired now, my head hurts and I’d like to sleep.”

The frown on Jungkook’s face doesn’t disappear. “It still hurts?” he asks, coming over to you.

“Yeah, you knocked me over pretty hard, my ass hurts too,” you pout.

Jungkook chuckles, hands coming to rest on your shoulders and he squeezes gently. “Want me to massage it?” he jokes.

“Ooh, good idea. Let’s leave the door open too,” you laugh.

Jungkook smiles, still giving you a shoulder massage and you feel yourself letting go slowly.

“Mm,” you hum softly, head relaxing. Jungkook steps closer and you let your forehead rest against his chest.

You don’t realise as Jungkook’s hands stop working and gently make their way around your waist, holding you up as you get lost in the warmth of his embrace.

“Should we go to bed before you fall asleep here?” Jungkook says after a moment.

Pulling away from him, you smile with tired eyes. “Dibs on the bathroom first.”

Jungkook obliges and sits down on your bed while you go first. When it’s his turn, he goes quickly since he has the most minimal night time routine, one of which you’ve always been envious of.

You’re just finishing brushing your hair when he’s coming out.

“What time is it?” he asks, stepping out as he dries his face.

“Almost two,” you respond, getting up to walk over to your pyjamas on the bed.

Jungkook turns around without being told, facing the opposite direction. “D’you think I could go get my clothes from upstairs now?”

You pull on your pyjama bottoms. “Probably not. I don’t think I have anything that would fit you either.”

“What do I do then?” Jungkook asks, his confused tone making you laugh.

“Don’t act like you don’t sleep naked half the time, Jeon.”

“Well when I’m alone, yeah. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable,” he says.

“I’m not, don’t worry.” You clamber into bed, pulling the sheets up to your shoulders as you get comfortable. “Just get into bed.”

Still facing away from you, Jungkook shrugs before pulling off his top. You don’t realise you’re staring at him strip until he starts pulling down his pants.

Abruptly, you pull the covers up even higher so you can’t see him. You hear him shuffling and then he stops but you can’t feel him getting into bed.

“Really?” he says. “My abs offend you that much?”

You can’t help but laugh, still keeping your eyes closed as you move the sheets down but place your hand in front of your eyes instead. “Actually, they make for pretty good eye candy.”

Jungkook gasps scandalously, still shuffling about the room. “Have you been checking me out, Y/N?”

Cocking your head, you smile. “Now what kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t appreciate you and your God given looks, hm?”

“A terrible one.”

“Exactly.”

“So why are you covering your eyes?” he asks, his voice growing louder as you feel the covers move beside you.

“Because there’s another friend of yours that I don’t think I should be seeing as your best friend,” you say, ignoring the way you feel your cheeks go warm when you say it, and especially the way Jungkook’s deep chuckle sounds as you notice the bed dip beside you.

“He’s covered,” he says quietly.

“Not enough.”

Jungkook laughs again and this time you can feel his body beside yours. “That friend is hidden safe and sound, Y/N. You can look now.”

Peeking your eyes open slowly, you see Jungkook right beside you in bed. He’s sitting up, smiling down at you with his abs eye level to you. You’ve seen Jungkook topless before plenty of times, but being this close and being in bed with him is new to you. You’re sure it’s the reason you feel your heart rate rising.

“Good,” you say, turning away. “Now hide the eye candy please. It’s bedtime, I’ve brushed my teeth and I’m not trying to get a cavity.”

Jungkook laughs, sliding down further into the bed to cover himself up to his shoulders.

“They’re that sweet, huh?”

“I’d be disappointed if they weren’t, all that time in the gym would just be a waste.”

“Now that’s true,” Jungkook says with a smile, shifting in the bed so he’s more comfortable.

You hum quietly, staying still as Jungkook moves. Only once he’s found his comfortable position, then you do the same, turning onto your belly facing him.

Jungkook happens to be facing you too and he smiles sleepily as his eyes close. “Good night, Y/N.”

Your eyes remain open for a few seconds as you look at him a little longer. “Mhm, night Koo,” you whisper, smiling even though he can’t see you.

He looks pretty when he sleeps. You take in every one of his features, unaware that there is still a smile on your face as you do so.

Catching you unaware, Jungkook winks an eye open. “What’re you looking at, hm?” he asks softly with a teasing lilt to his voice.

You feel flustered, eyes going wide. “There’s something on your face,” you say quickly, brushing nothing off of his face. “Eyelash or something,” you mutter, subconsciously shifting away from him a little since the close proximity definitely isn’t helping.

“Uh-huh,” he nods, hiding a smile.

You’re not sure what it is about his smile that makes your heart skip a beat and your senses go fuzzy like they’ve done so more than once now because of Jungkook. It’s odd, he’s not doing anything different, yet you feel different. Mentally, you officially dub this The Jungkook Effect.

There’s not much you can say to defend yourself so you press your eyes shut and fight back a smile yourself. “Well, anyway, good night.”

“You sure you wanna sleep?” Jungkook teases.

“Oh shut up,” you say with a laugh, you pull one of the pillows out from behind your head and place it in the small space between your torsos.

Jungkook lifts his own head off his pillow and looks down at it with an amused smile. “Is this really necessary?”

Lifting your own head and resting on your palm, you arch your brow at him. “I’ve read enough books to know what happens when two people who aren’t dating share a bed.”

Jungkook mirrors your expression and dares to move an inch closer. “And what’s that?”

Smiling like the little know it all you are, you answer, “They wake up in the morning with someone’s cute ass, which would be mine in this case, conveniently pushed up against someone’s dick.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue and the smirk on his lips is clear as day. “Ah, which would be mine,” he says, briefly looking down. His lips look wet when he says it and for some reason you find yourself wanting this conversation to continue on the same wavelength it is right now… but it’s also at this moment you realise you’re lying in bed and practically flirting with your best friend.

“Exactly,” you say, letting out a small breath as you fall back into your pillow, looking up to the ceiling.

Pursing his lips, Jungkook hides a smile. “Well I guess we definitely don’t want that to happen.”

You stifle a laugh as you lightly whack him with the pillow between you before putting it back in its place. “Shut it, Jeon.”

He chuckles, falling back into his pillow. “Just kidding,” he murmurs, sliding further beneath the covers and getting comfortable. “Good night, Y/N.”

With a tired smile, you hum. “Good night, Koo.”

The stops at St Tropez and Nice both pass as quickly as the first few cities in Spain and before you know it, you’ve visited all the cities scheduled for France too. The stop in Barcelona has been your favourite so far though — the resort the Diamindis’ booked for the families on the cruise most definitely did not disappoint and the riding you got to do was just a big bonus, especially watching Alias struggling with his mare.

The whole Jungkook situation has been pretty easy to navigate too. Now that the important people in your life know it’s not real, it makes it easier and Jungkook and you only need to behave as you normally do so you’re both happy. On top of that, you’ve noted that you haven’t had any more experiences with the Jungkook effect, though you’re not sure you can say that pleases you.

It’s also been a while since you’ve hung out with Lawrence. He seemed to stay close in the first few days but you figured it must be his parents encouraging him to socialise with some of the other families since he’s not at home much. This became true enough when you saw him stuck at a table in some fancy restaurant in Nice with the Maddison’s.

Although you did hope to get to spend some more time with Lawrence, at least for old times sake, you can’t say you care much, especially since Sophia has finally joined you.

“Why don’t we go to the pool?” you say, raising your brows at Sophia. It’s almost midnight but you’re still lounging on a quieter deck with Jungkook and Alias. Since it’s a sea day tomorrow, you don’t need to be up early and it seems like it’ll be more fun than the last time now that Sophia is here too.

She perks up at that, turning towards you. “It’s closed right?”

“Yep, but that just makes it better,” you smile, ignoring Jungkook and Alias scoffing at your change in opinion — last time you were adamant that you should be following the rules.

“Okay, let’s do it.” She looks at Jungkook and Alias. “You guys joining us?”

“Sure,” Alias hops up. “It’ll be fun to see Y/N break the rules,” he grins at you.

Sassing him, you get up too. “This time I’m pushing you in.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Alias tenses, flexing his biceps. “I’m 73 kilos of this,” he nods.

It’s no secret that Alias has an impressive figure, but unwilling to cave, you just roll your eyes and playfully swat his arm. “Whatever.”

“Alright, let’s meet at the top deck pool in ten minutes?” Jungkook says hopping up from the lounge.

“Make that fifteen,” Sophia says. “I don’t know where I put all my swimsuits.”

Agreeing, you all head towards the upper decks, only splitting up to go towards your respective corridors to your cabins. Sophia and Alias go right towards the corridor where their family cabins are situated, while Jungkook and you still need to walk a little further to get back to your shared cabin.

Surprisingly, it’s been easy to share a cabin with Jungkook. Most days you come back from whatever activity you had that day and knock out easily since you’re so tired. On top of that, your pillow idea seems to be working perfectly and you haven’t experienced any awkward or uncomfortable moments. There have, however, been a few times you’ve mistaken the pillow for Jungkook and in the split second it takes you to realise it’s only the pillow, you can swear your heart skips a beat and your pulse races. The disappointment that follows is something you can’t seem to explain to yourself.

“So Sophia comes and all of a sudden you’re Little Miss Daredevil, huh?” Jungkook says, as you walk together.

You glance at him and note how handsome he looks today. After spending some time in the sea while in Nice, his dark locks are curled and framing his face perfectly. He walks with his hands in his short pockets and the linen material of his shirt blows in the evening air giving the occasional glimpse of his lean figure. It occurs to you that this is going to be coming off in a short while when you go to the pool—

Oop. You pause your thoughts, realising that the little flutter you just felt down south was definitely due to picturing your best friend topless. A part of you feels guilty wondering if Jungkook would be embarrassed, but you also know that Jungkook knows what you think of his physique. You pretty much said it all the other night and he’s caught you looking plenty of times before that, even making jokes about it when you did.

“She brings out that side of me,” you sigh, smiling as you descend the steps that lead towards your corridor.

“Alias and I aren’t good enough for you, huh?”

“Don’t take it personally,” you joke, and Jungkook just laughs quietly so he doesn’t wake up anyone as you walk past some cabins.

Once back at your own, you quickly change into a bathing suit and throw on a hoodie and shorts so in case any staff see you, they don’t suspect you’re planning on going to the pool.

Alias is already waiting at the top deck and you can also see he’s brought some drinks along with him. He’s chosen not to cover up and is revealing his washboard abs for the whole world to see, and let’s not forget those killer thighs of his.

“Beat you here,” he says without even thinking.

“Who was counting?” Jungkook says, bumping shoulders with him on purpose.

“I was,” Alias responds, and quickly the two resort to their childish antics as Jungkook pulls him into a headlock. You choose to sit and watch, dipping your toes in the pool as you throw your hoodie to the side.

“Guys, shut up, we can hear you from a mile away,” you hear Sophia’s voice from behind you as she climbs the steps to your deck.

Jungkook and Alias stop mid-wrestle and you get up to pull your shorts off.

“Huh?” Alias frowns, pulling himself free from Jungkook. “We?”

Once Sophia is standing on the deck, you see someone else coming up behind her.

Lawrence.

Sophia steps to the side as he steps up. “Yeah, we,” she repeats.

“Hey guys,” Lawrence says with a harmless smile, glancing across at you all.

“Hey,” you smile back.

“Oh, hey man,” Alias waves.

Jungkook smiles too with a nod of his head.

“I saw Lawrence on the way so I thought I’d ask him to join us,” Sophia explains as she too pulls off an oversized hoodie.

“I hope that’s alright,” Lawrence chuckles awkwardly.

“The more the merrier,” Alias says with a shrug. “So,” he looks at you, “who are we pushing in first?”

“You,” you smile.

Alias spreads his arms, inviting you. “I’d love to see you try, babe.”

Glancing to his right, you subtly raise your brow at Jungkook who smiles back at you. In a split second, Alias is being lifted from the ground and tossed into the pool.

Sophia and you jump into the pool right after, surfacing close to Alias.

“I thought we were friends,” he laughs at Jungkook splashing water towards him. “Gosh, I forgot how whipped you are.”

Jungkook just laughs and shrugs. “Sorry, man,” is all he says.

“You getting in?” Sophia asks Lawrence as she joins you next to the pool, dipping your toes first.

He nods. “I guess.” He glances around looking at the empty surroundings. This top deck is pretty big considering it’s wholly private.

“What?” Alias holds out his arms. “We’re not good enough for you?” he jokes.

“Of course you are,” Lawrence says before he shrugs, lips curving into a smile. “I just think with all this space, we could do something more.”

“Oh.” Sophia raises her brows, intrigued. “Like what?”

She speaks for all of you as you all look at him.

“I risk sounding like a five year old,” he says with a small laugh, “but how about hide and seek.” He looks around again. “We’re on a ship, we’ve got plenty of hiding spaces.”

The rest of you glance at each other and it’s clear that you’re all in agreement.

Alias jumps out of the pool. “Alright, but it’s hide and seek chase.” He grabs a towel and dries himself off. “I’m it first,” he adds with a devilish smile.

“Even better,” Lawrence says, pleased that everyone is on board. “Are we splitting up or staying together?”

“I’ll go with Y/N,” Jungkook says, approaching your side as you get up from the side of the pool. The air is chilly to your wet skin but you quickly warm up as Jungkook helps you pat dry.

“I’ll stay with Lawrence,” Sophia says, walking over to his side.

“Alright let’s stick to the top two decks when hiding, but if I’m chasing you, we can go anywhere,” Alias says, pulling on a linen tee.

“Where’s the base?” you ask, covering yourself up too.

“Here?” Sophia proposes.

“Or only inside the pool,” Jungkook adds to the suggestion with a shrug.

Lawrence nods in agreement, as do the rest of you.

“Alright,” Alias smirks. “Ready?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before starting to count down, “one hundred, ninety nine, ninety eight…”

The rest of you bolt immediately knowing that 100 seconds with Alias will only be 50, if that.

Sophia doesn’t even wait for Lawrence’s confirmation before running in the direction she came from but he follows her anyway.

With a tight hold on your hand, Jungkook pulls you in the opposite direction, already running faster than you can keep up with.

“Slow down,” you laugh, squeezing his hand.

“C’mon,” he says without turning back and without slowing down. “We gotta get away first, he’s only gonna count to ten.”

Just as you suspected, even with the distance that’s been put between you already, you can hear Alias yell out for you all to hear.

“Ready or not, here I come.”

You’re just grateful there’s no cabins near here.

It feels like you’re running for a mile, starting outside before Jungkook takes you through a door and down multiple corridors and even two smaller staircases you had no idea existed. He’s slower now which comes and a relief to you, but you’re still panting from all the sprinting.

“Koo, where the hell are we going?” you ask, tugging on his hand to make him stop.minutes, you find yourself on a part of the ship you’ve never been to before.

“You’re lost, aren’t you?” you say, not really caring about being lost because you’re just glad Jungkook stopped running.

“No, I’ve been here before.” Judging by the way he’s walking, it does seem like he knows where he’s going. “We’re near our cabin.”

“Really?” You look around, frowning at your surroundings. “I don’t recognise it.”

“Yep,” Jungkook takes your hand as he taps his pass on a door to go down a corridor which you still don’t recognise but from the smell, seems to be near the kitchen.

“Wait, Jungkook…” you pause, looking back at a small sign above where Jungkook tapped his card. Staff only. “How?” you ask in bewilderment.

Jungkook just pulls you forward with a smug look on his face “Alias gave it to me. He got one for himself and Alex too.”

Of course he did. “He’s trying to get us kicked off, I swear.”

“It’s just for a little fun,” Jungkook grins. “Besides, this way, we can win the game.”

“Yeah, except Alias can get in here too then.”

Coming to a split in the corridor, Jungkook stops. “Oh yeah,” he mumbles. “Well,

“Hey!”

Jungkook and you both turn on the spot to the sound of a voice from ahead of you. It’s a member of staff, the same one from the night Alias and Jungkook jumped in the pool. He seemed pretty mad at the time and seeing his expression now as he starts walking towards you, he seems the same. You don’t blame him, he was chasing you guys for the better part of ten minutes.

“Run?” Jungkook whispers, his fingers clasping yours tightly.

“Run,” you nod.

Before you know it, your legs are moving as Jungkook leads you down the closest corridor.

“Hey! Stop!”

You almost feel bad about running away, but at the same time, you know that the guy is only trying to stop you to feed whatever power trip he’s on, so you keep running as fast as you can to try to keep up with Jungkook.

“Do you know where you’re going?” you huff, looking over your shoulder.

The guy is right behind you.

“No,” Jungkook laughs, slowing down as he sees a corridor to his right.

“Keep going,” you laugh too, pulling him down the corridor before the guy can catch up.

“Oi, I said stop!” he yells.

“What d’you think, Y/N?” Jungkook asks, though he shows no sign of stopping. “Should we listen to him?”

“Never,” you respond, glancing back again. He seems to be slowing down but you don’t stop yet. This time, you take the lead and go down a smaller corridor which you realise leads to a staircase.

“Up,” Jungkook ushers you, letting you go first. Luckily it;s a short one and Jungkook comes up close behind you.

“Left or right?” you ask, glancing down the corridor. The left leads to a door which heads outside, the right leads to a door which seems to hide a dimly lit corridor.

Jungkook takes your hand again, going left. As he pushes the door open, you hear the guy is still coming close behind you. “Stop,” he yells.

You’re honestly surprised he’s still chasing you but you’re also tired now and really just want to stop. “Koo, I think I have asthma,” you breathe out, feeling your steps slow down.

Jungkoook chuckles, looking back at you. “Y/N, we’ve been through this before, you don’t have asthma.”

You would pout because you know he’s righ and you still want to stop but you also don’t want that guy to catch up to you.

Still, Jungkook glances around while jogging as though he’s looking for something. “Ah, there!”

You’re too tired to ask what, only letting Jungkook lead you across the deck to a door which takes you back inside. As you enter, you see the staff still coming behind you. Gosh, he’s bothered. After only a few yards, Jungkook uses the staff pass to open a door on your right. Inside is a small room with a few shelves lining the walls and one big one in the middle; it’s full of rescue equipment.

“What the hell, Koo?” you laugh, letting him take you inside as he closes the door quickly.

He takes you to hide behind the biggest shelf in the middle of the room. With your back pressed against it, he stands close in front of you so he can still see the door.

When you look up at him, you see a massive grin on his face and that mischievous gleam in his eyes that you love.

“You’re crazy,” you murmur, restraining a laugh.

“Shh,” he whispers, placing his hand beside your head as he takes the smallest step closer, one that’s enough for you to feel the warmth of his breathing as his chest rises and falls so close to you.

The sensation makes you fall quiet anyway and you’re sure that even if you did speak, no one from outside would be able to hear you, but you’re rather enjoying the feeling of having him this close to you. The smell of his perfume – your favourite – fills you with every heavy inhale as you catch your breath too, and suddenly, you find this feeling familiar.

That damned Jungkook effect.

Since you’re stuck here hiding for a few moments, you can do nothing but just embrace it as it comes. Apparently you’re embracing it a little too much as you don’t realise your eyes close and your head slowly moves closer to his chest. It just feels so good being this close to him – feeling his warmth, smelling him… his body is so close to yours, you wonder what would happen if you just took another step forward and–

“You okay there?” Jungkook’s voice comes out low with a humorous lilt.

‘“Hm?” Your eyes go wide as you realise your head was resting on his chest. “Sorry,” you mumble, suddenly feeling your cheeks go warm. “I’m tired, it’s late.”

“Mhm, that’s okay.”

Looking up, you see the mischievous gleam in his eyes has changed to something playful.

“You can use me as a pillow anytime,” he adds with a wink.

Scoffing, you poke him in the chest. “Well I gotta put these pecs to use somehow.”

He laughs quietly before poking his head out to the side. “Come on, I think he’s gone and we’ve got a game to get back to.”

You follow him to the door and find the corridor empty, thankfully. “Alias has probably already found the other guys.”

“That would make us the winners.”

“Mm, I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to get back to base first.”

“Oh, yeah.” Jungkook pauses, looking around. “Where is the base from here?”

“Um…” Stopping beside him, you look around too. It’s hard to tell when it’s dark but there’s some parts of the deck which look familiar to you. “I think we keep going forward.”

“Actually, I think we’ve passed the way up.”

“What?” you frown, looking up confused.

“Well the pool was at one of the top decks and there’s one way up which we missed, no?”

“I don’t think so.”

Jungkook looks down at you, his brows raised. “Really?”

“Really,” you say, taking his hand to tug him along, except he doesn’t move. When you look back at him, you see he’s got his brows raised with a smile, one that only spells a challenge.

“Oh, c’mon, Koo,” you sigh.

He shrugs before swinging your hand. “Let’s see who gets there first then,” he says in a sing-songy voice.

“Fine,” you shrug, already turning away from him. “Just be careful Alias doesn’t get you on your way.”

“I’ll be fine, just look out for yourself,” he responds as he already starts skipping back the other way.

Shaking your head, you turn back to look at your surroundings. You’re sure there’s a small staircase somewhere near here that you’re supposed to go up which should be close to the pool. It’s when you’re glancing around now that you realise it’s actually quite scary being alone on an empty deck late at night with no company but the sea.

Taking a few steps back, you look down the way you came to see if Jungkook might still be there but of course he’s not – he’s probably running to make sure he gets back before you.

Sighing, you continue down the path that seems familiar to you, only to hear a small bang from somewhere in front of you. Immediately, you’re relieved to see Lawrence coming around the corner ahead of you.

He smiles when he sees you. “Hey,” he says, voice hushed.

“Hey,” you answer, looking behind him. “Was that bang you?”

He looks back, confused for a split second before he nods. “Oh, yeah, I just jumped down the last few steps when I was coming down.”

“Right. Where’s Alias and Sophia?”

“Well Alias tried to get me just a little while ago but I lost him,” he says, looking proud of himself before he frowns. “Where’s Jungkook?”

“We split up,” you answer with a smug smile. “He thinks the base is back this way.” You point in the direction that he went in. “But I know it’s this way.” You point in the opposite direction.

Lawrence chuckles, looking at you somewhat endearingly though it goes unnoticed by you. “Uh, Y/N, it’s the other way.”

“Huh?” you frown, looking back. “Really?”

“Yep,” he nods, hiding an amused smile. “I can show you the way if you like?”

Sighing in defeat, you agree to go with him. “It’s not like I have any chances of beating him now.”

“Ah,” Lawrence sighs as he falls into stride beside you. “Still got the competitive streak I see?”

“Me?” you laugh quietly, glancing at him.

“Mhm, you,” he says matter-of-factly, still sporting a smile.

Looking at him now, you note how relaxed and care-free he seems. You’re not sure whether it’s because his usually swept back hair is now falling freely, or if it’s because of the glow on his face from the light sheen of sweat from the humidity of the evening air. It’s nice to see him like this, even the smile is a difference – growing up he always seemed so mysterious and quiet which no doubt had to do with the pressure he faced as an only child and a big family name to live up to.

“Well, it’s good you remember. I won’t be losing today either,” you say with a playful nudge.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he laughs. “If we bump into Alias, I’m ditching you fast.”

“I hope so, you’re dead weight to me.”

“Hey!” He nudges you back as he still laughs, loosely running his hand through his hair.

“Mm, remember when we were kids?” you say, suddenly reminiscing. “We used to do this stuff all the time.”

Lawrence nods. “I do,” he says with a smile. “There was one Christmas, we all went up to that chalet in… oh, where was it?” he frowns, looking at you. “Courchevel?”

“Hm…” You shake your head as it rings a bell. “I don’t think so, there was only one year we celebrated Christmas abroad all together and it wasn’t in France.”

“Switzerland?”

“Yes!” You say, pointing your finger at him as you suddenly remember the finer details of the trip. “At St Moritz, we had that massive suite at Kempinski.”

“That's the one,” Lawrence says with a smile matching yours. “D’you remember those nights we would always want to go out but our parents never let us? So we used to run around hiding from them.”

“Mhm,” you nod. “I remember Leon and Helena would get so mad, even I was scared of them but their own kids never even cared.”

“My parents got mad too but we still did it every night,” Lawrence laughs, his walk slowing down as the two of you approach the bow. “I wonder how he were so brave,” he continues, “I bet it was Alias’s idea, all the fun stuff was always his idea.”

“Mm, actually, I think it was yours,” you say, tilting your head towards him.

“Really?” Lawrence questions, brow raised as he walks closer to the ledge overlooking the tranquil evening sea though you can’t actually see much besides a distant glittering coastline.

“Mhm, really,” you nod, coming to stand beside him.

Lawrence turns so he’s facing you, a thoughtful expression on his face but his lips are still curved in a smile as they have been this whole time. “I’m surprised you remember.”

You shrug. “I remember a lot of things.”

Lawrence opens his mouth as though to say something before closing it.

“What?” you ask, turning to face him too.

He shakes his head. “I was about to ask something but it’s probably gonna sound stupid.”

“Stupid questions are my favourite to answer,” you say with a smile.

He arches a brow, his smile changing to something more timid. “D’you remember a lot about me or just everything in general?”

You laugh, not having expected that. Lawrence isn’t really the conceited type so you don’t think it’s coming from a place of vanity, and the shy hesitancy he says it with almost makes him seem cute — like he wants you to say him.

“Both I guess,” you answer honestly.

He laughs too, one that reminds you of the days you spent daydreaming about him. It feels almost nostalgic, certainly not the same. If this was a few years ago you might’ve gotten butterflies from just hearing that laugh but now you only feel happy to see him letting his guard down and smiling which is a rare occurrence with him.

“Are you surprised?” you ask.

“Well, yeah,” he says, still with a shyness. “I thought I just went unnoticed in school.”

“Unnoticed? You were without a doubt one of the most popular guys in school.”

He shrugs. “Never felt like it.”

You scoff in amusement. “Yeah, because imagine being the one to receive almost 100 cards on Valentine’s Day every year, not to mention the endless notes in your lockers.”

“Ah,” Lawrence laughs softly. “Okay I see your point.” He glances towards you. “Never got one from you though.”

“I was too shy,” you say, trying to hide the truth a little with a tone of sarcasm.

“Probably would’ve said yes if it was from you,” he says with a playful smirk.

“Thanks for telling me this late,“ you laugh. “But wait…” You look at him in amusement, having just processed some of what he’s said. “So you’re telling me you had no idea that I had a crush on you in school?!”

Confusion is the first and only emotion you manage to catch on Lawrence’s face, the rest passing in a second. “I had no idea!” he says, half laughing while still in what can only be surprise. “You liked me?” He looks at you and you notice a tinge of pink colouring his cheeks.

“For a long time,” you laugh. “Though I don’t know why, you never paid me much attention until college.”

Lawrence doesn’t skip a beat when answering. “I had to! I’m two years older than you, any attention I wanted to give you throughout school might’ve just caused problems and I didn’t want that for you.”

“Well, how thoughtful of you to not want me to be the subject of stupid rumours, meanwhile I was left to pine over you,” you say somewhat sarcastically but still humourful. “If only I knew that you were being so considerate…” only now do you realise exactly what it is that Lawrence has just said… “Hang on.” You pause, brows creasing as you turn to look at him. “You what?”

Lawrence suddenly hesitates, timidly. “I had a thing for you,” he mumbles after a few seconds.

“You did?”

“Mhm, for a while. It’s always been there… still is.”

Your head is reeling… you could’ve had Lawrence. You still could have Lawrence – he’s telling you as much – but…

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you ask softly, still dumbfounded.

“I wanted to,” he admits with a small smile, just about managing to look at you now. “Your first year of college, but you seemed so carefree and I didn’t wanna be the older guy tying you down. Even though it’s just one year, everyone has fun in first year so I wanted you to have that too.” He purses his lips before releasing a small breath as he looks away.

“I wouldn’t have cared about that,” you say quietly with a laugh.

To your relief, Lawrence laughs too, albeit awkwardly. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you shrug.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I tried again in my last year, your third.” He glances at you before shrugging. “I don’t think you cared for it though.”

It’s easy to remember what he’s talking about now — there’s no way you wouldn’t remember all the times Lawrence tried to shoot his shot with you, especially because you could never figure out why you denied it to him and yourself.

Lawrence continues in your moment of silence. “I always thought it was because of Jungkook.”

All the thoughts come to a standstill in your mind…

“Now I know I was right,” Lawrence says with a wistful smile.

Is this your answer? The reason you never wanted to pursue Lawrence even after having a crush on him for so long — because of Jungkook?

It’s even crazier to you that right now, it doesn’t seem so bizarre.

Jungkook has always felt right. Maybe you do care about him in more ways than you realised, maybe everything Lawrence is saying is true, and maybe everything Alex has been saying for months now is true. There’s obviously a reason you’ve started to feel differently around him, not to mention you’re always finding any and every excuse to be with him.

Lawrence continues, unaware of the thoughts unravelling in your head. “I just wish I’d had the courage to say something sooner, but it’s my fault.” He takes a step closer and the feeling of his hand brushing yours draws you back into this moment.

Looking up, you meet his gaze to see soft eyes and furrowed brows.

“Now it’s all out there though,” he says in a voice quiet enough to be a whisper, “I have to know…”

His eyes search yours and he hesitates for a brief moment before you feel his fingers lace between yours. “It is too late, right?”

note. please interact with all parts and share your thoughts with me! <3 part 2 here

#jjk #jungkook x reader #jungkook bts #jungkook fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jeon jungkook #bts fanfic #jungkook best friends to lovers #bts fic #jungkook x you #jungkook fluff #jungkook oneshot

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pitlanepeach · 16 days ago

Text

Radio Silence | Chapter Twenty-Five

Lando Norris x Amelia Brown (OFC)

Series Masterlist

Summary — Order is everything. Her habits aren't quirks, they're survival techniques. And only three people in the world have permission to touch her: Mom, Dad, Fernando.

Then Lando Norris happens.

One moment. One line crossed. No going back.

Warnings — Autistic!OFC, time skips, so much fluff, sexual content, mentions of pregnancy.

Notes — The first of two 2022 chapters. Prepare yourselves, maybe grab a drink and a snack. It’s a long one.

Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know! - Peach x

February 2022

Max and Pietra’s flat smelt of hairspray and lavender air freshener. One of Pietra’s playlists, hilariously named ‘Soft Amelia Approved’ was playing from her phone. Amelia sat in front of the vanity, gripping the edge of the stool. Her hair was half-styled, soft waves pinned back temporarily, and her dress, a sleek, ice-blue gown with structured shoulders, hung on the front of the wardrobe like a quiet threat.

Pietra stood behind her in leggings and a hoodie, carefully applying highlighter to Amelia’s cheekbones. “You’re doing very well,” she said gently. “You haven’t cried yet.”

Amelia glanced up in the mirror, blinking quickly. “I’m very uncomfortable right now.”

Pietra laughed, soft and fond. “Okay, that’s fine. Being uncomfortable is a normal human experience. But if it gets too much, just say so.” She told her.

“My face feels weird.”

“That’s because you’re used to only wearing moisturiser and mascara. I’ve given you a full face.”

Amelia grimaced. “Yes. I know. I can feel it. All of it. Every layer.”

“Mmhm.” Pietra stepped back and handed her the lip balm. “So, to distract you: I cannot believe that you got engaged and didn’t tell anyone for, like, weeks.”

Amelia dabbed the balm with a heavy hand. “Lando did. He was telling everyone, P. And your Max knew. Still can’t believe he didn’t even bother telling you. Men are so strange.” She sighed.

Pietra leaned against the vanity, arms crossed. “I am still a little bitter that you didn’t tell me yourself.”

“Sorry,” Amelia said simply.

“You let Lando tell the entire McLaren factory.”

“I know,” Amelia muttered. “But I told you eventually. It still counts.”

Pietra grinned. “The old lady at the Monaco patisserie knew before I did.”

Amelia made a face. “Thanks to Lando, that lady knew before our parents did. But it’s fine. She’s started giving me free madeleines.”

They shared a quiet laugh. The warmth in the room softened Amelia’s shoulders slightly. Pietra picked up one of the makeup brushes, but didn’t start working again — just watched her, brows lifted slightly.

“Am I really your only girl friend?”

Amelia didn’t look away. “You are.”

“That’s kind of sad.” Pietra frowned.

“It’s not.” Amelia denied. “Most people, girls especially, expect… social cues. Emotional reciprocity. I don’t have that in the way they want it. But you’ve never made me feel like I’m broken for it.”

Pietra blinked, suddenly glossy-eyed. “Okay, well. Now I’m the one who’s going to cry.”

“I love you,” Amelia said, in her typically direct way.

Pietra swallowed. “I love you too.” There was a beat before she cleared her throat. “So, are you ready for tonight? Lando’s briefed you, yes? It’s going to be a bit intense.” Pietra said, picking up her steamer and glancing at the gown.

Amelia stared at her reflection for a moment longer. “No. But I’ll do it anyway. It’ll make him happy to have me there with him.”

“Exactly. And when it’s over, you’ll come back here, and you’ll be able to scrub all of that makeup off of your face, eat pasta in your dressing gown, and watch Love Island with subtitles on.”

Amelia exhaled, steadier now. “Will you make me some tea?”

“Of course I will,” Pietra said, grabbing the dress and holding it out. “Now. Let’s get you dressed.”

—

Lando was pacing Max’s bedroom, adjusting the cuff of his suit jacket for the tenth time. The bow tie was already starting to feel too tight, but he refused to mess with it and risk messing it up. He could hear Pietra bustling in the other room, her voice drifting faintly through the cracked door; sharp, encouraging, then quiet.

Then the door opened.

And he stopped breathing.

Amelia stepped out slowly, one hand smoothing down the front of her gown. It was the palest icy blue, the neckline clean and sharp, the silhouette structured and strong, like something from a fucking fairy tale. Her dark hair was tucked back loosely, a few curls brushing her jaw, and she was wearing more makeup than usual — shimmer at her cheeks and a soft shine on her mouth. Not too much. Just enough.

She froze when she saw him. “You’re staring at me.”

“You—” Lando blinked. “I’ve forgot how to say words.”

Amelia tilted her head. “Oh no. You’re supposed to present an award tonight. On stage. Maybe you should work on that.”

He stepped closer, slow and reverent, his eyes scanning her face, the line of her shoulders, the way the dress hugged her waist. He reached out, hands hovering for a second like he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to touch her. “You look like— I don’t even know. So beautiful, baby. We should just ditch the red carpet, yeah? Just drive a million miles and never have anyone other than me look at you ever again.”

She blinked at him. “That’s… either deeply romantic or mildly horrifying.”

“Both,” he whispered, finally letting his hands settle at her waist. “God, Amelia.”

Her eyes softened as she looked up at him, and when he kissed her, it was careful — like he didn’t want to smudge anything, like she was made of glass. “You’re going to outshine everyone there,” he murmured into her hair.

“I’ll be fine just standing in the corner,” she replied. “With my noise-cancelling earbuds and a glass of icy cold water. With a straw.”

Pietra poked her head around the corner. “If you two are done, the car’s downstairs. Max is talking to the driver.”

Lando reached for Amelia’s coat. “Come on then, future Mrs. Norris. Let’s go cause a scene.”

She slid her arm into his, leaned against him just a little. “Pietra promised me pasta and Love Island when we get back.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” he promised.

—

The red carpet was chaos.

Flashes strobed like lightning, the roar of photographers cutting through the February night. Celebrities in designer gowns and sleek tuxedos moved with a strange kind of practiced elegance — confident, gliding, like they belonged here.

Amelia did not feel like she belonged here.

She held Lando’s hand tightly, her free hand tucked into the folds of her dress. Her heart was hammering, her mouth set in that unreadable, slightly stern line.

Lando looked dazzling, sharp suit, mischievous grin, curls tamed only slightly. He was doing fine, charming the press line like it was just another race weekend.

“Amelia!” Someone called. “Can we get a shot of the ring?”

She flinched.

Lando glanced sideways at her instantly. He didn’t answer the shout, didn’t pull her closer, didn’t make a big deal, just gently rotated his body, stepping into the line of fire, cutting off the view of her hand as subtly as breathing.

“You okay?” he murmured.

“Too loud,” she said quickly. “Too fast. I can’t filter any of it.”

He gave a single nod. “Okay. One minute more, and then we’re inside. I’ll get you a drink, and we can sit. You can take your earbuds out of your purse if you want. Or we leave. Say the word.”

She didn’t say anything, just pressed her hand harder into his.

A woman in a gown made entirely of sequins called out, “Amelia! Congratulations on the Championship!”

Amelia blinked, slow. “Thanks.”

Lando gave her the smallest nudge, his thumb brushing hers, like a reminder that she didn’t owe anyone more than that. And Amelia… surprisingly, said nothing else. Just nodded once.

A few more photos. A few more questions, mostly aimed at Lando, who held her hand through it all.

Inside the venue, the noise was muffled. Lights were softer. Music thudded beneath the floor.

Lando led her to a table, his hand still resting low on her back, letting her settle before crouching down next to her chair. “You want me to skip presenting?”

She shook her head. “No. Of course not.”

“You sure?”

“I’ll be fine now. It was just the flashing. And the shouting. And that one guy who stepped on my toe.” She grimaced.

He grinned. “You look cute when you’re mad.”

She gave him a flat glare. “I wasn’t mad. It hurt. He was heavy, and visibly overweight. He couldn’t—.”

He kissed her ring. “Okay, shush. No talking about how people are overweight, okay? That’s an inside thought.”

She glowered. “He stepped on my foot.” She argued.

Lando laughed. “Yeah, baby, I know.”

—

Amelia had never been particularly interested in award shows. The noise, the rehearsed spontaneity, the endless clapping — it all felt overstimulating and fake. But she was here, in a dress that shimmered when the light caught it, seated at a quiet corner table near the back of the room, earbuds clenched in her fist.

Lando was on stage.

Her eyes didn’t leave him.

He was reading from the teleprompter now, doing his bit between the two pop stars flanking him. Charming, slightly awkward, but trying hard not to fidget. His hand reached up once to run through his curls, a nervous tic she’d seen in debriefs and race week interviews a hundred times. She smiled.

“Bit young to be up there, isn’t he?” Someone at the next table whispered, not cruelly, just curious.

Amelia pursed her lips.

And then he was talking about her.

It was just a passing comment, part of a joke about his tux not being his idea — “You can thank my fiancée for this,” he said, and the crowd laughed — but it turned Amelia’s breath into something tight in her throat.

The word “fiancée” coming from Lando still made her ears buzz.

He looked so natural up there. A little boyish, a little charming, but confident. He didn’t overplay it, didn’t try too hard. Just stood straight and smiled through the chaos.

And when the camera cut briefly to her in the crowd, she could see herself on the big screen overhead, staring up at him with a look she hadn’t even realised she wore, it felt like the whole world was seeing it, too.

How much she loved him.

How proud she was.

How, despite the chaos and the cameras and the sound and the flash, she would sit through it all again, just to see the way he lit up when he got to do something like this. Something that made his world feel as wide as it was.

When Lando stepped offstage, disappearing into the wings, Amelia let out a quiet breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding.

He was always saying she was the impressive one. That she was the smart one, the one who had it all figured out.

He underestimated his own brilliance.

—

It was well past midnight by the time they made it back to Max and Pietra’s flat, and the entire night had already started to feel like a distant fever dream.

Now, in the quiet warmth of the living room, things started to make sense again.

Lando was in grey sweatpants and a sweatshirt. Amelia had scrubbed off her makeup the second they walked through the door. She was wrapped in one of his hoodies, warm and perfumed with his aftershave, her hair damp from a quick shower. She was curled into the corner of the couch, her bare feet tucked under Lando’s thigh.

Pietra was spooning pasta straight from the pot. Max — her Max, the softer, goofier one, not Verstappen — was hunched next to her on the floor, picking the olives out of his bowl with surgical precision.

Love Island was playing on the TV, low volume with subtitles, just background noise really. None of them were truly paying attention, but every so often someone would react dramatically and the others would follow.

“I’m sorry,” Lando said, through a mouthful of fusilli, “but Ron is absolutely going to kiss that girl and then lie about it.”

“Ron would lie about breathing if he thought it’d give him more screen time,” Amelia muttered, eyes half-lidded, chin resting on Lando’s shoulder.

Pietra pointed her fork at the screen. “Justice for Ella. She’s the only one with a single working brain cell.”

Max nodded solemnly. “I support women’s rights and women’s wrongs.”

Amelia laughed, soft and sleepy, the kind that buzzed against Lando’s collarbone. He leaned down to kiss the top of her head, like it was muscle memory.

“Is this what we do now?” She asked, tilting her face up to him. “Is this our life? Fancy award shows and then this?”

“Yup,” Lando said proudly, twirling his pasta. “This is the dream, babe.”

“It is kind of the dream,” Pietra agreed.

“It’s a lot more chaos than I’d have chosen,” Amelia murmured.

Max threw an olive at her. “You like our chaos.”

She caught it, flicked it back at him without looking, and it hit him square in the forehead.

Lando laughed, full and unrestrained. “God, I love you.”

The room went quiet for half a second. Then Pietra softly nudged Amelia’s foot with hers, grinning. “Disgusting.”

Amelia smiled. She let herself lean further into Lando, heart calm, mind settled.

—

The Red Bull Technology Campus was quiet in that specific, humming way it always was at odd hours — the whirr of servers, the low buzz of fluorescent lighting, the occasional muffled footstep on polished concrete. Amelia liked it like this. She could think.

She stood beside Adrian at one of the long tables in the design office, sleeves pushed up, fingertips hovering above the CFD printouts of the new RB18 side-pod concept. The paper still smelled faintly of toner.

“Other teams will be talking about this,” she said, tapping the edge of the schematic. “But it’s fully within regulation. Section 3.7.5 of the technical directive covers internal channeling—so long as it's not considered a movable aerodynamic device, which we’ve clearly proven it isn’t.”

Adrian gave one of his quiet smiles, more a twitch at the corner of his mouth than anything obvious. “You memorised the whole regulation manual over the winter break, didn’t you?”

Amelia didn’t look up. “I colour-coded it.”

He chuckled, a warm, almost paternal sound. “I believe you.”

They stood in silence for a moment longer, both of them studying the cooling profile of the undercut and how it flowed back to the floor. She knew what he was doing — this was the ritual, the unspoken challenge. The final review before a radical concept met the tarmac.

“You were on the red carpet last week,” Adrian said, casually.

That made her look up. “Briefly.”

“You looked very…” He trailed off, thinking. “Different.”

Amelia raised an eyebrow. “You’re used to seeing me with dark circles under my eyes and a wrench in my hand.”

Adrian smiled again. “You just looked very happy. That was good to see.”

She blinked at him, surprised. “I was,” she said eventually. “It was weird, and loud, and everyone wore too much fragrance. But I was happy to be there with Lando.”

He nodded, then gestured back to the design. “If this works in Barcelona the way we expect, that’ll give you something else to be happy about.”

She smiled. “It will work. Maybe… maybe there’s other components of the car I’m not so happy about, but…” She shrugged.

“If we put together your dream car, it would be a rocket-ship,” he said dryly.

She took a few steps back and run her finger over the edge of the side-pod blueprint. “They’ll be mad. Probably raise it with the FIA before testing even begins.” She guessed.

“Let them. While they’re complaining, we’ll be winning the championship.”

Sleek, aggressive, elegant. It was beautiful in the way only something painstaking and dangerous could be.

She smiled.

“Yeah,” she murmured. Back-to-back championships would be a nice way to end her time with Max. “We will be.”

—

The news had just gone live. Every F1 social channel was ablaze with McLaren’s orange-and-blue graphics: Lando Norris signs with McLaren through 2025.

Lando tossed his phone facedown on the kitchen counter and turned to look at Amelia, who stood barefoot in the doorway, arms crossed loosely over her chest, watching him with that unreadable, slightly fond expression she reserved for moments like this — big moments that she was already half-analysing in her head.

“Say it,” he said, walking toward her. “Come on. Just once.”

She blinked up at him. “Say what?”

“That you’re proud of me.” He gave her a mock-wounded look. “I extended my contract, Amelia. Three more years. I made a sensible, adult decision.”

Amelia’s mouth twitched. “You did it mostly because you like the papaya team kit and you’re emotionally attached to your engineering crew.”

Lando grinned, not denying it. “True. But also because I believe in them. In us.” He reached for her hands. “In you. As if I’d ever consider leaving a team that I know you’re going to be running soon.”

Amelia looked down at their hands, then back up at him. Her voice was soft. “I am proud of you.”

“There it is,” he breathed dramatically, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I win.”

She rolled her eyes, but didn’t pull away. “You want your actual prize?”

He perked up. “You got me something?”

She reached behind the kitchen island and lifted a small, bright orange box with the McLaren logo embossed on it. Inside: a tiny teddy bear wearing an LN4 shirt.

He stared at it. “It’s so cute.”

“I know,” she said. “I also convinced my dad to make them stop serving fish at the MTC. Like, fully. So. You’re welcome.”

He laughed, full-bodied and unfiltered, and swept her into a hug. “I love you,” he whispered into her hair.

She pressed her cheek against his chest. “Good.”

They stayed like that for a while, tangled together in the soft hum of their kitchen, the headlines buzzing just outside the door. He was staying. She was planning. And for once, everything felt perfectly in sync.

—

Amelia stood alone at the back of the Red Bull garage as the final laps of the day ticked down. The sun was low over Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya, casting long shadows across the pit lane. Her iPad was in her hand, filled with split times and engine mapping data, but her mind was somewhere else, half in the numbers, half in the ache behind her eyes.

The side-pod had worked. Their new cooling configuration, her brainchild, if she were being honest, had exceeded expectations. The media didn’t know what to do with it yet. There’d been mutterings in the paddock, whispers of legality and grey areas, but Adrian had just smiled that quiet, knowing smile and said, “Let them talk.”

And Max? Max had been quick. Too quick, maybe, for this early. But she saw it in the data. The balance was close. The new aero philosophy was holding its ground. They’d come into 2022 ready for war.

But he hadn’t been the quickest.

No, that title had gone to Lando.

Later, her fiancé found her outside the circuit, still in his hoodie and slides, sunglasses pushed up into his curls. “Date night?” he asked, bright-eyed.

She blinked. “I smell like engine oil.”

“You always smell like engine oil. It’s part of your charm.”

The restaurant was a tucked-away spot in the Gothic Quarter. Lando had found it on Instagram, bored in a briefing. Amelia ordered for both of them in quiet, fluent Spanish, and the hostess gave her a warm smile and a complimentary dessert. Lando leaned across the table, grinning like she’d just performed magic. “That was so hot.”

“Ordering risotto was hot?”

“The Spanish,” he said. “The confidence. The little voice you do when you’re being polite. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever head. I— Yeah, I’m totally turned on right now.”

She kicked him under the table.

After testing wrapped, they rented a villa in the hills for the weekend; a last breath before the storm of the season. Max and Celeste joined them on the second day. Celeste arrived in linen pants and oversized sunglasses, the very image of calm European glamour. She kissed Amelia twice on the cheek and said, “You look stunning.”

“Doesn’t she,” Lando agreed, pulling Amelia into his side.

But even in that villa, with its terracotta walls and olive trees outside the window, Amelia couldn’t fully power down. She sat by the pool in the afternoons, sketching cooling layouts on her iPad, earbuds in, humming low under her breath. Lando watched her sometimes, quiet and smiling, like he couldn’t believe she was real.

Celeste brought her spritzes and Max offered occasional input on tire wear models. It was ridiculous and warm and kind of perfect.

—

March 2022

The jet hummed steadily as it travelled from Europe to the Middle East, the soft cabin lights dimmed to a comfortable glow. Amelia was sitting sideways in her seat, one leg curled under her, talking animatedly with her hands while Charles stared at her like he was being held hostage.

“—so if you start your aero development from a high rake philosophy, you have to reconfigure your floor stiffness. Otherwise you get this nasty longitudinal instability on corner entry, especially in medium-speed turns. You know what I mean?”

Charles blinked. “Non.”

Amelia frowned. “Really? But Ferrari ran similar philosophy in—”

“I mean, yes, I technically understand you,” Charles said, smiling tightly, “but also, no. No, Amelia. I am just a driver. Please, I am begging you. I do not need to know all of these facts.”

Across the cabin, Lando snorted into his hoodie sleeve. He was lounging two rows behind, legs kicked out, headphones slung around his neck. “You good over there, Charles?”

Charles threw a hand up dramatically. “I am exhausted just from listening to how her brain works. How does she exist this way?”

“I’m just explaining rear downforce consistency—”

“You said the words longitudinal instability! That is not a casual conversation phrase, Amelia!” He argued.

Lando grinned and leaned forward over the seat. “C’mere, baby. Why don’t you tell me how Oscar’s pre-season testing went?”

Like flipping a switch, Amelia’s head turned toward him, eyes bright. “Oh my God, he was so good. His tyre management’s already cleaner than half the grid—"

Charles let out a theatrical sigh of relief and collapsed into his seat. “Merci, Lando. Merci.”

Lando gave him a mock salute. “You're welcome, mate. I’ve had, like, three years to develop countermeasures.”

“Does she do this to you too?” He asked.

“She once explained crankshaft thermal expansion to me during sex.” He said. He was smirking.

“Mon Dieu.” Charles grimaced.

Amelia didn’t even register it, she was still talking. “—and once he gets used to the car rotation speed in low-speed corners, I think his timings will be so much better, you know?”

“Uh-huh,” Lando said, grinning as he slid into the seat beside her. “Tell me more, baby.”

Charles gagged into his travel pillow.

—

The heat was unbearable. The Middle Eastern races were a sensory nightmare, and Bahrain was one of the worst. The air was thick and heavy, like breathing through cloth. The desert sun scorched everything it touched, the paddock buzzed with noise, radios crackled in her ears, lights glared, and distractions came from every direction—her brain was in overdrive.

Then Max and Checo both DNF’d, and the noise got louder.

She was running on fumes. The temperature never let up. The cars screamed nonstop, the floodlights were blinding, and the food—too rich, too intense—sat heavy in her stomach.

Saudi Arabia was hotter still. Max’s strategy meeting dragged on, tense and complicated with the car’s aggressive setup. The race itself was chaos—Max clawed his way forward, wheel-to-wheel until the very end. He won, just barely, Charles less than half a second behind.

It was a victory. But it didn’t feel like one.

Back in the hotel room that evening after the race in Saudi, she sank onto the bed, the weight of everything pressing down on her chest. The hotel was pretty, all big rooms and expensive chandeliers, but all she felt was hollow and slightly claustrophobic.

Lando flopped down next to her. “Another one of those days, huh?” he asked softly, stretching out on the bed beside her.

“Yeah,” Amelia murmured, closing her eyes for a moment. The flickering of the overhead lights seemed too sharp against her eyelids. She’d never really understood how other people could tune out all the chaos. “It’s so hot. I can’t escape it.”

“I know,” Lando replied. “Wanna get room service and take a cool shower?”

She smiled at him, her eyes still shut, the AC bringing her some comfort. “I’d love that. I don’t want to leave this room.”

He chuckled, leaning over and brushing her hair away from her face. “Okay, baby.”

she curled against him, her fingers seeking the comfort of his touch. He didn’t say anything more. He just pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. The rhythm of his breathing slowed her own.

“Better now?” He asked, after a few moments of silence.

Amelia nodded, though she didn’t open her eyes. “Much.”

—

iMessage – 10:45PM

Mark Webber Big day tomorrow 👀

Amelia It’s official then?

Mark Webber Yep. Oscar is officially a joint Alpine/McLaren reserve. Zak just signed off.

Amelia Good. More doors.

Mark Webber You’re sowing your seeds, Miss Brown.

Amelia This’ll just make it easier when the time comes. If Alpine dig in their heels, Oscar will have already been in contract with McLaren for months.

Mark Webber Smart girl

Amelia I know.

Mark Webber I’m sick of Otmar already. Refusing to give us any straight answers.

Amelia Fernando said the same thing

Mark Webber Lando okay with all this?

Amelia Of course. He’s Lando. Jealous for five minutes, then proud.

Mark Webber You picked a good one.

Amelia I know.

Mark Webber I’ll keep you updated

—

April 2022

The little bakery tucked off Rue Grimaldi smelled like spun sugar and cinnamon.

Amelia was already halfway through her iced matcha, perched in the corner at their usual table, wearing a cotton sundress and sunglasses that kept sliding down her nose. Lando had gone inside to order, almond croissant for her, pain au chocolat for him, and a couple of extra pastries they definitely didn’t need but always ordered anyway.

He returned with a grin and two paper bags, sliding into the seat across from her. “I told them not to warm yours up,” he said, handing over her croissant. “Because you don’t like gooey.”

“I don’t,” Amelia confirmed flatly, unwrapping the pastry. “The texture gets weird.”

“Right,” Lando said, biting into his. “How do we feel about the accent wall in the streaming room being that navy blue colour I showed you?”

“I hate it,” she told him.

“You didn’t hate it yesterday.” He complained.

“Yesterday I hadn’t imagined how it would look under the LED strips.” She said, her lip curling.

Lando groaned. “Babe.”

“I’m right.”

“You’re opinionated.”

“I’m autistic.”

“Same thing.”

She giggled into her croissant.

He took a sip of his freshly squeezed orange juice and leaned back in his chair, squinting up at the sun. “Okay, new idea. We get that matte grey from the hallway for the main walls. Then black soundproof panelling on the back wall.”

“No, you’re soundproofing the whole room,” she said without even looking up.

Lando frowned. “Is that really necessary?”

She finally looked at him, eyebrow raised. “I do not want to be listening to you playing on Valorant at two o’clock in the morning.”

“…Right. Whole room.” He nodded.

She nodded.

He shook his head, fighting a smile. “Remember, I’m back in London next weekend, Thursday to Tuesday. Quadrant’s shooting at Silverstone.”

“Sounds fun,” she said, brushing a flake of pastry off her skirt. “I’ll stay here. Oversee the decorating. Make sure the soundproofing goes in. And that the shelves are built level this time.”

“They were level.” He rolled his eyes.

“They absolutely weren’t. I checked with a spirit level.”

He threw his head back dramatically. “Baby, please don’t terrorise the decorators with your spirit level again. They’ll refuse to ever come back.”

“You live with someone who needs things not to be crooked.” She informed him, appearing slightly embarrassed.

He reached across the table and took her hand. “I live with someone who makes everything perfect.”

Amelia blinked. Softened. “You’re being sweet.”

“Only because I don’t want you to bully the decorators when I’m not here.”

She rolled her eyes, but let her thumb brush over his knuckles. The bakery buzzed around them — plates clinking, baristas calling out names, the Mediterranean sun painting the pavement golden.

—

Amelia had her yellow golfball in her hand, her eyes squarely set on the replays from free practice. There was always something to track, always something shifting.

Jos was standing outside the hospitality suite, arms folded, sunglasses perched low on his nose. Amelia approached quietly, iPad under one arm, her MV1 shirt crisp in the morning light.

“Jos,” she greeted. He nodded once in acknowledgment.

“They’re faster than expected,” he said without preamble. “Ferrari.”

“Yep,” Amelia replied. “Top-line speed’s excellent. Aero efficiency’s strong, and they’re managing their tires better than projected. But we’ve got updates coming.”

Jos glanced sideways at her. “Barcelona?”

She shook her head. “Imola.”

He grunted. “Cutting it close.”

“I like a challenge.”

He gave a huff of amusement. “I know.”

She tapped her tablet, showing him a sketch of the new floor and side-pod configuration. “This’ll help mitigate the porpoising and give us cleaner airflow into the diffuser. I ran the numbers with Adrian yesterday — it’s barely legal, aggressive, but… it’ll work.”

Jos studied her for a long moment. “And Max?”

“He’s got the pace. We’ll give him the car to match it.” She shrugged.

After she excused herself, Amelia wound her way through the back of the paddock, navigating behind the media pen and through the tight hospitality corridors until she found the Alpine motorhome. She stood outside for a moment, considering the entrance — and then slipped in without ceremony.

Oscar Piastri was leaning over a printed-out set of data. When he noticed her, he did a double-take. “Amelia?”

She smiled, subtle as she could possibly be. “Hello.”

He straightened quickly, a bit awkward in that endearing way of his. “Um—hi. What are you doing here?”

“Just… making the rounds,” she said. Then, a small nod. “Congratulations, by the way. On becoming McLaren-associated.”

Oscar blinked. “Oh—thanks! Yeah, it’s been a bit surreal. Double reserve, more chances to get out on track, I guess.”

“I’ve been following your sim data, your testing laps,” she added, like it was just a passing comment. “You’re adapting fast.”

He flushed slightly. “Trying my best.”

She gave a rare, tiny smile. “Keep doing that.”

Then she was gone again, leaving Oscar to stare after her with an astonished blink.

—

Amelia had just exited the Red Bull garage, iPad in one hand and stim toy in the other, when a trio of microphones were suddenly in her face.

“Amelia, can we get a comment on Red Bull’s lack of reliability in the early season?”

“Is it true you were seen going into Alpine’s motorhome yesterday? Are you considering switching teams?”

“Rumours are swirling about your next career move—care to confirm anything for us?”

She stiffened. Her sunglasses hid the instinctive panic, but her knuckles has gone white around her stim snake. They weren’t being aggressive exactly, but they were pushing in, leaning into her space, stacking questions rapid-fire without giving her a second to process.

“I’m not doing media today,” she said firmly, voice flat and clipped.

“Just one quote—”

“I said no!” She said, a little louder.

But they didn’t back off. One cameraman stepped closer to frame the shot, bumping into her arm slightly, and her breath gt stuck in her throat and her shoulders started to curl up toward her ears.

And then — “Ah, hey! Back off.” Charles was the first to appear, all soft curls and red team kit, stepping smoothly between Amelia and the cameras with that disarming Monegasque smile that somehow managed to be polite and threatening all at once. “She said no,” he repeated, and though his tone was light, his stance was not.

Behind him, Lando materialised from seemingly nowhere, slipping his hand around Amelia’s wrist and raising an unimpressed, slightly pissed-off eyebrows at the reporters. “The fuck do you think you’re doing?”

That earned a quick retreat of at least one mic.

“She is not public property,” Pierre added as he came to stand beside Charles, arms crossed, voice dry and unimpressed. “If you want a quote, you ask someone who wants to be asked.”

Mick trailed behind them with Zhou, both of whom offered quiet, present support, just bodies standing nearby, close enough to break the intensity of the circle that had formed around her. Mick gave her a small nod of reassurance.

The reporters, now very aware of the optics, half the grid forming a loose but definite protective arc around Amelia, finally relented and stepped back.

“Thanks,” Amelia murmured once they were gone.

Lando squeezed her wrist, eyes scanning her face. “You good, baby?”

“I’m fine,” she said, exhaling. “Just… wasn’t ready for all that.”

Charles tutted. “They are vultures. If they do anything like that in the future, just shout, yes? One of us will come.”

—

The morning sun filtered through the massive glass panels of the MTC, casting neat reflections across the polished floor. Amelia sat across from her father at one of the quieter corners of the cafeteria, legs folded underneath her in the booth seat, her coffee rapidly cooling next to a barely-touched muffin.

Zak Brown, CEO of McLaren Racing and wearer of many hats, was reading the Financial Times off his tablet with the easy calm of a man who’d had two espresso shots already. He looked up suddenly, over the rim of his glasses, and said casually, “So. Are you going to tell me the deal with Oscar?”

Amelia blinked. "What deal?"

Zak gave her a look. “Amelia.”

She sighed, poked at the edge of her muffin. “He’s going to be a McLaren driver.”

Zak blinked owlishly at her. “Amelia…”

“I’m going to bring him here.” She told him.

He slowly set the tablet down. “Interesting. And when were you planning on mentioning to me—the team boss and CEO—that this was happening?”

She tilted her head, almost sheepishly, though mostly matter-of-fact. “I knew if I asked, you'd say yes. So I was just waiting for the right time.”

Zak just stared at her.

Amelia shrugged. “It’s Oscar. Once he gets through this season of Alpine purgatory, he’ll be ours. And when he’s in papaya… I’ll come back. Officially. I’ll build you a car that wins championships. I have the designs ready. I’ll be Oscar’s race engineer too.”

Zak was quiet for a long moment. He rubbed his hands over his face, then looked at her with the begrudging mix of fatherly exasperation and professional admiration he often wore when talking to her. “You’re impossible,” he muttered. “You are actively working for Max Verstappen. And you have a car designed for us?”

Amelia just nodded, sipping her lukewarm coffee.

He leaned back, exhaling in shock. “You’re supposed to ask me to give you a job, not tell me that you’re going to restructure my entire staff.”

She shrugged. “It’ll make you win. Isn’t that all that matters?”

He sighed. “And what about Lando? What does he think about all of this?”

“We talked about it, obviously. He doesn’t need me in his ear. He has me at home. That’s the difference.”

Zak smiled slowly, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’ll talk to Andrea, honey, and you know it’d be incredible to have you working for McLaren officially, but…”

She cut him off. “I don’t want to hear it. It’s useless. I’ll be here, and so will Oscar, and that’s how it’s going to be.”

He barked a laugh, shook his head, and gestured for the waiter. “I’ll need another coffee. It sounds like you’re planning a coup.”

Amelia giggled.

—

Max Fewtrell’s streaming camera was pointed at his gaming setup; Lando and Max shoulder to shoulder in their matching headsets, controllers in hand, squinting at the screen in total concentration. The Twitch chat was flying by at light speed, full of emojis and chaos, most of it delighting in the rare duo-stream.

What made this stream a little different, though, what made it iconic, was the soft background chaos visible just beyond them. Behind the couch, nestled on a thick rug with pillows and snacks strewn everywhere, sat Amelia and Pietra cross-legged, utterly absorbed in a heated game of Monopoly. Amelia, in Lando’s oversized hoodie and fuzzy socks, was sorting her money into piles with ruthless efficiency. Pietra had a mischievous glint in her eye, hand hovering over a stack of hotels.

“…I swear to god, if you put another hotel on Park Lane, I’m going to flip the board,” Amelia muttered, tone flat but somehow more threatening than if she’d yelled.

“Mi amor, it’s a legitimate investment strategy,” Pietra countered sweetly.

“Your strategy is financial terrorism.” Amelia grunted.

Max glanced at them over his shoulder, grinning. “They’ve been at that for two hours, chat.”

Lando didn’t look away from the screen. “Yeah, she’s gonna break the board. It’s only a matter of time, guys. Don’t clip it. You’ll embarrass her.”

“Oh my god, you two,” Pietra said, glancing toward the camera, “This is a very serious game, much more serious than whatever you are playing!”

Max snorted. “Agree to disagree.”

From the floor, Amelia said without looking up, volume slowly raising, “Pietra, you’re on my hotel. No, don’t roll the dice, you’re on my hotel!”

Twitch chat exploded.

PIETRA MONOPOLY CHEATER CONFIRMED STOP THIS IS SENDING ME HELP Bro Lando rly said ‘She will break the board’ like he knows from experience lmaoooo

On the floor, Amelia made a crisp transaction. “That’s four thousand pounds. You can pay in instalments, but I will be charging interest.”

Pietra groaned. “You’re worse than the IMF.”

Lando was laughing now, head falling back, nearly dropping his controller. “Amelia, baby, I love you, but you’ve got the most brutal capitalism streak I’ve ever seen.”

“Only when fake money is involved,” she said coolly.

Max leaned into his mic and said to chat, deadpan, “In case anyone was wondering, yes, I am also surprised that this game is still somehow going.”

The stream lasted two hours.

It was clipped and shared all over social media, labeled things like “Max & Lando try to game while Amelia ruins friendships via Monopoly” and “Quadrant’s Chaos Double Date”. Fans latched onto every bit of domestic hilarity, from Lando stealing a bite of Amelia’s cookie mid-stream to Pietra declaring herself “a capitalist queen” while mortgaging Mayfair.

It was absurd. Intimate. Hilarious. And it felt like a glimpse into something real.

By the end of the night, Monopoly had ended in dramatic silence (Amelia had won, obviously), Max and Lando had finally clinched a sweaty victory on stream, and someone, probably Lando, had convinced them all to order spring rolls at 1 a.m.

—

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ameliabrown fluffy hair i love that picture of you ❤️ by landonorris

landonorris love u baby

maxfewtrell Mate your barnet is a STATE

ameliabrown Shut up, Fewtrell 🔪

mclaren The cutest couple in the paddock🤩

user39 the pool pic. the amelia wrapped in a duvet pic. THE MATCHING BRACELETS?

user33 the amelia pic got me too..... she's so fucking cute and he's obviously SO IN LOVE

user18 everytime they post abt eachother im reminded how crazy it is that they're both 5 years younger than me and have established careers and are literally engaged i cant do this

—

Max sat in the cockpit of the RB18, gloves off, sweat clinging to his forehead despite the cool. Amelia stood beside him, one hand braced against the halo, the other flicking through telemetry sheets on her iPad.

“Can you tweak the steering calibration?” he asked, nodding toward the wheel. “Turn-in still feels a touch tight into Acque Minerali.”

Amelia nodded, thumbing in a few quick notes. “We’ll open the ratio a little between 60 and 120 degrees. Keep the weight where you like it, but you should get a bit more rotation without overworking your wrists.”

Max smiled faintly. “You’re so smart.”

She glanced at him, dry as ever. “I’m aware.”

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, settling deeper into the cockpit as mechanics moved around them.

There was a comfortable silence for a moment. Then, casually, as she tapped in a few last changes to the wheel settings, she said, “Lando and I are thinking about getting married. Maybe around Silverstone.”

Max blinked. “What?”

Amelia didn’t look up. “We haven’t picked a date. But we’ve been looking. The summer break is too packed with testing and prep for Spa, so… Silverstone makes the most sense.”

Max stared at her. “This year?”

She finally met his eyes. “Yeah.”

He shook his head, but he was smiling now. “That’s fast.”

“You don’t object though?”

“To the steering setup? No. Feels good.”

She huffed a laugh. “Max….”

“To the wedding,” Max added, voice softer. “Also no. I do think it’s fast—very fast—but then, that’s a pretty big part of our world, isn’t it?”

Her expression didn’t shift much, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—gratitude, maybe. “Thanks,” she said. “You’ll be invited.”

“Gee, thanks,” Max teased, sitting back and flicking a switch on the wheel. “If I’d known there was any concern over having a seat at the Norris wedding, I’d have written it into your contract.”

Amelia tilted her head. “I was always planning to invite you, obviously, but it’s not official until you get an invitation.”

Max tilted his head at her. “I bet you already have at least five invitation designs picked out.”

She pursed her lips and looked away.

Outside, the rain began to fall again, soft and steady on the roof of the garage. Max fiddled with the wheel as Amelia double-checked her notes.

“Silverstone, huh,” he said after a moment. She nodded. “You nervous?” He asked.

“No,” Amelia said honestly. “I want to be his next of kin as soon as possible. It makes sense.”

Max studied her, thoughtful. “Yeah. I guess it does.”

—

Amelia sat alone on the small balcony outside the team hospitality, her iPad balanced on her lap, untouched. The rain had cleared, but the air was still heavy with mist, soft droplets clinging to the railings. Below, the paddock was beginning to wind down, freight being packed, media finishing up their final takes, voices quieter than they’d been all weekend.

Max had won.

It felt triumphant. A clean weekend, pole to flag, fastest lap. It was the kind of result that justified everything; the long hours, the endless data, the sleepless debriefs. The RB18 had been flawless. The side-pod gamble was proving worth it.

But still… Amelia felt the kind of bone-deep exhaustion that went beyond just being tired. It was emotional fatigue. Mental strain. A thousand variables she’d juggled, most of which no one would ever see. She wasn’t unhappy, far from it, but there was a muteness to the pride.

She exhaled through her nose, fingers picking at the edge of her iPad case.

Max was in media. Lando had finished fifth, solid, reliable, but a far cry from what she knew he could be. She hadn’t seen him yet. Just a brief nod across the paddock, the flash of his helmet in parc fermé, a thumbs up from afar.

She wanted to hug him. To tell him that fifth was good, that fifth, with the shit-box of a car he had, was better than good.

And maybe, selfishly, she wanted him to tell her she’d done a good job too.

Behind her, someone called her name, softly, respectfully, but she move right away.

She was thinking about the championship. About Max’s lead. About Ferrari’s early season strength, and what it would take to keep beating them. About what was waiting in Miami.

And for a moment, just one, she let herself think about Silverstone; not the race, but the chapel just outside of Glastonbury, which she’d only seen one time, but knew it was where she could see herself getting married.

—

May 2022

The music was loud. The bass thumped through the floor, reverberated up through the soles of Amelia’s heels, but her earplugs softened the edges. The lights were neon and overwhelming — but the dress was soft against her skin, and Lando's hand was warm and solid on her hip.

She wasn’t drunk, not really. Just lightheaded from the adrenaline, the heat of the Miami night, the dizzy joy of watching Lando laugh and dance, glowing from a solid qualifying.

They were packed into the middle of the club — Lando, Daniel, Pierre, and a few others — a messy, writhing group of drivers letting off steam. Amelia was tucked under Lando’s arm, swaying with him to some Latin remix pulsing through the air.

“You okay?” He asked, ducking down so his voice hit her over the beat.

She nodded, smiling. “I’m good.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“Stop,” she said — not irritated, just amused. He never stopped saying it.

He didn’t. He kissed her instead, hands firm on her hips, and she laughed into his mouth.

They danced for hours. Bodies slick with sweat, her hair pulled back off her neck, Lando’s shirt half unbuttoned and clinging to his back. At one point, she swapped her heels for sneakers from the club's coat check. At another, he twirled her like they were at prom, and not in a nightclub.

By 2 a.m., they were both exhausted and dizzy like lovesick teenagers. Daniel shouted something about an afterparty, but Lando grabbed Amelia’s hand and shook his head.

“Nope,” he said. “I’ve got other plans.”

—

They barely made it through the door.

Her back hit the wall, and Lando kissed her like he was starving. His hands were rough with need, but still gentle, one settling on her waist, the other cupping her jaw as he kissed her like she was something sacred.

Her dress slipped down her shoulders.

His shirt hit the floor.

It was just a little frantic. Warm. Familiar. Like gravity pulling them closer. He whispered her name when he pressed his forehead to hers.

She pulled him down to the bed.

And somewhere between the sound of the city outside and the rise of the Miami sun, they disappeared into each other completely.

—

It happened fast.

Amelia wasn’t on comms for Lando, but she always had one ear tuned to his channel. Her tablet buzzed in her lap, live data scrolling, her focus split between Max’s telemetry and the multiple feeds in front of her.

And then suddenly; a yellow flag was shown in sector two.

She heard it before she saw it: the sharp bark of Lando’s voice over the radio, crackling with frustration, pain, impact. Her heart dropped into her stomach.

Camera switch. Replay.

Gasly. A misjudged overtake. Lando clipped, turned, spun around. A flying wheel.

Virtual safety car.

Her breath stopped. For a second, maybe longer, the paddock felt silent. The world narrowed. Just white noise and static and the pounding of her pulse.

He was out of the car. Slowly. Helmet still on. He waved. She exhaled so sharply she felt dizzy.

Still. That wasn’t enough.

She excused herself from the Red Bull pit wall with a wordless nod and a clenched jaw, already walking, already texting someone from McLaren’s medical liaison team.

They didn’t let her into the medical unit for ten minutes. He was sitting on the bed, still in his race suit, fireproofs peeled down to his waist, a bruise already blooming across his shoulder, his curls damp with sweat and adrenaline.

He looked up and softened instantly. “Hey, baby.”

She didn’t say anything. Just crossed the room in three steps and wrapped herself around him. Tight. Too tight. Her arms around his neck, her face pressed into his shoulder.

“I’m okay,” he murmured, hand rubbing her back.

“You could’ve not been,” she whispered. After a moment, she pulled back enough to look at him. Her fingers trembled as she reached up to touch his cheek. “We need to get married.”

Lando blinked, confused. “What?”

“Soon,” she said. “As soon as we can arrange it.” He studied her, reading the truth in her eyes — the vulnerability, the clarity. This wasn’t nerves or a whim. It was control. A way to make sense of a world where tomorrow was never promised.

His hand found hers. Squeezed. “Okay,” he said softly. “Then we will. As soon as you want.”

“Really?” She checked.

“I’d marry you tomorrow in a Tesco car park if that’s what you wanted.” He told her.

She gave a choked laugh. “Not Tesco.”

“Okay, fine. Waitrose.”

“Better.” She cracked a smile.

He leaned forward and kissed her, gently, slowly.

When they pulled apart, she glanced over her shoulder briefly before looking back at him and whispering, “The nurse doesn’t like me. She wouldn’t let me in here, even though I’m on your pre-approved list. I think we should have her fired.”

Lando’s lips twitched, but God, she was so deadly serious, so he managed a nod and suppressed the urge to burst out laughing at the pure indignation on her face. “Okay, baby. Whatever you want.”

—

Their Monaco apartment was chaos. Controlled chaos, but chaos all the same.

Swatches of fabric were spread across the coffee table. A mood board with handwritten notes and clippings from bridal magazines sat balanced on the arm of the sofa. There were open tabs on Amelia’s laptop — five venues, four florists, and a document titled 'Ceremony Logistics: Sound, Seating & Sensory'. A printed-out Google calendar stuck to the wall with blue tack had been torn down and replaced three times that morning already.

Amelia stood barefoot in the middle of it all, wearing a sports bra and pair of leggings, a highlighter in one hand and her phone cradled between shoulder and ear. “No, I don’t want peonies,” she was saying sharply. “They’re pretty, but they’re uncontrollable. And they smell too strong—no, I—no, listen, lilies are fine. But white ones. Nothing dyed!”

Lando was on the sofa, half-wrapped in a throw blanket, trying to keep his eyes open as he scrolled half-heartedly through a list of DJs on her iPad. He wasn’t sure if he had a fever or if the apartment had just decided to become a sauna, but his skin felt tight and his throat had been sore since yesterday.

He sneezed.

Amelia, mid-call, snapped her fingers toward him and mouthed, “Bless you.”

He gave a thumbs up.

She hung up a moment later and dropped onto the sofa beside him, crossing her legs under herself and immediately launching into the her next focus. “Okay, so my dress fitting is next week, and then the invitations go out by—”

“Babe,” Lando croaked, barely above a whisper.

She blinked, mid-sentence. “What?”

“I love you,” he said, eyes squinting in that way she’d come to recognize as his version of ‘please don’t be mad, but I’m dying.’ “But I think I might be losing the will to live.”

Amelia paused. Really looked at him.

His curls were flat. His eyes glassy. His skin was a little pale, flushed around the cheeks. His voice? Wrecked. She frowned. “You’re sick.”

“No,” he said too quickly. “Just a bit run down. Fine. I’m fine.”

“Lando.” She said, unimpressed by his attempt.

He coughed. A rasping one that came from deep in his chest.

She reached out and touched the back of her hand to his forehead. “You have a fever.”

“I just love you so much it’s giving me a temperature,” he joked weakly.

She didn’t laugh. Just climbed into his lap gently, settled her forehead against his. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

He shrugged, closing his eyes. “You’re happy. Planning. You’ve got your little colour-coded lists and your spreadsheets and your anti-guest-scent policy. I didn’t wanna ruin it.”

Her heart pinched. She brushed her fingers through his curls, voice softening. “You’re not ruining anything. You’re my favourite part.”

He smiled, tired and a little loopy. “Even when I sound like Kermit the Frog?”

“Especially then.”

She kissed his temple, pressed her cheek to his. “Alright. Wedding planning on pause.”

He hummed. “For how long?”

“Until you’re back to yourself,” she said. She tucked the blanket tighter around him and reached for the remote. “Tea?”

“Chamomile?”

“You want sleepy tea in the middle of the day?” She teased.

“I want my tonsils to evaporate.”

Amelia nodded solemnly. “Okay. I can do the tea.”

As she moved around the kitchen, humming under her breath, Lando watched her with drooping eyelids and the softest kind of smile. Even sick, even overwhelmed, he knew one thing with absolute clarity — he’d marry her a thousand times over.

—

Lando shuffled into the bathroom, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands, nose red, throat raw. He was just looking for toothpaste. That was it. Just toothpaste.

What he found instead was the object sitting innocently on the counter: white plastic, digital screen, slim body. Rectangular. Familiar. Terrifying.

A pregnancy test.

He froze.

His brain clicked into overdrive.

‘No. No, we’ve been careful. Haven’t we? Wait, maybe not that one time in Miami, but that was— Oh my god. Oh my god. She's been more tired lately. And weird about food. And I’m sick — what if she’s sick too, but not with a cold?—‘

He blinked down at the object, heart thudding.

It lit up.

Lando screeched.

Without thinking, he jumped away from it like it was radioactive. His pulse was in his ears. His fevered brain was already building a nursery in his head. He was googling prenatal vitamins in his mind. He was buying a Volvo. He was calling Zak to ask for paternity leave and then apologise for knocking up his only daughter.

He was— He was—

The front door clicked open.

“Lando?” Amelia’s voice echoed through the apartment. “I got your antibiotics. And some cough syrup. They only had the cherry flavour, sorry.”

He burst out of the bathroom. “Stay away from me!” He pointed at her.

She blinked. Stopped. “What?”

“I don’t want the baby getting sick!” He said, suddenly extremely defensive, halfway between panicked and protective. “You shouldn’t be carrying heavy bags either! And you shouldn’t be walking around in this heat—wait, did you eat? You need to be eating properly, and we need to call a doctor—wait, did you see a doctor? How long have you known?”

Amelia stared at him, completely blank. “…What baby?”

Lando gestured wildly toward the bathroom. “The baby from the pregnancy test!”

Amelia squinted, took two slow steps toward the bathroom, peered in. And then started snorted. “Oh my god,” she said, “you mean the thermometer?” She asked. He blinked. She walked in, pulled the digital thermometer off the counter and held it up. “The thing I used this morning to check your temperature for the doctor?”

Lando looked from her to the object and back. “…Oh.”

She was wide-eyed, staring at him. “You freaked out over a thermometer.”

“I was mentally preparing to raise a child,” he mumbled, half-offended, half-relieved.

“A nonexistent child,” she said, handing him his antibiotics. “You should’ve seen your face. Funny.” She giggled a little.

He took the blister pack sheepishly. “I think I’m still feverish.”

Amelia made a face. “Sure, we’ll blame the fever.”

He tugged her gently into a hug. “So no baby?”

“No baby,” she confirmed.

He exhaled dramatically. “Well, now I feel kind of disappointed.”

“Lando.” She frowned at him.

“…Eventually,” he corrected, kissing her forehead. “Like, in five years. When you’ve had time to design a pram with a DRS button.”

She snorted. “Shut up. Take your medicine.”

He popped the pill, made a face. “Ew.”

“Use water, Lando!”

—

The bathroom tiles were cold under Amelia’s feet. She was sat on the closed toilet lid, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands, phone clenched between her fingers.

She stared at the pregnancy test box on the counter. It sat there like a challenge. Or maybe a joke. A very unfunny one.

She hit the call button.

Pietra answered on the third ring, already squinting. “Did you eat lunch?”

Amelia didn’t answer that. Instead, she blurted, “I think I might be pregnant.”

There was a beat. Then Pietra leaned back in her chair, blinked once, twice. “Do you want me to freak out with you?”

Amelia exhaled. “I don’t think I am. I don’t know. I… I’m probably not. I’m just— spiralling. A bit.”

“Okay. Spiral gently,” Pietra said. “What made you think it?”

“Lando freaked out over the thermometer,” Amelia admitted. “Thought it was a test. Got all serious. Protective. Said he didn’t want to get the baby sick. There’s no baby. But then I started thinking—what if?”

Pietra was already opening FaceTime. Amelia accepted the call and was met with Pietra’s patient, knowing eyes. “Are you late?”

“No,” Amelia said. “But I thought my boobs felt weird. But I also had too much salt yesterday, so maybe that’s it? And I thought I was nauseous but it was just the smell of the weird cheese Jon had Lando put on his pizza last night.”

Pietra smiled gently. “So you’re inventing symptoms.”

“Yes,” Amelia mumbled. “I’m hyper-fixating. I know I am. But now I can’t stop.”

“Well,” Pietra said, “we’re going to need to see it through, then.”

“I already bought the test,” Amelia admitted. “It’s like… right there.”

Pietra nodded, her voice soft. “I’m right here. Take it.”

The test took five minutes to give a result after she’d peed on it. Amelia paced the bathroom the entire time, muttering about hormone levels and false negatives and how she hadn’t even finished building the new simulator yet, and how could she possibly begin Oscar’s championship preparation if she had a baby on her hip.

When the timer beeped, she turned the stick over.

Negative.

She exhaled, sharp and tight. And then, to her own surprise—tears pricked at her eyes.

Pietra saw it happen in real time, through the screen. “Oh, honey…”

“I’m not upset,” Amelia said quickly, swiping at her face. “I’m not—I didn’t want it to be positive. Not really. I’m not ready. We’re not ready. But… I don’t know. I’m crying. I think I’m relieved. But also—”

“You’re sad,” Pietra finished for her. “And that’s okay. You want it, Amelia. Of course you do. But it’s okay to not get everything you want right away.”

Amelia sat back down, sniffling. “I think… I want it someday. I didn’t even know that about myself. But now it’s there and I can’t un-know it.”

Pietra smiled gently, resting her chin on her hand. “That’s how it starts. One ‘what if’ and suddenly your heart is a bit bigger than it was yesterday.”

Amelia looked down at the negative test. “I’m glad it’s not now.”

“Then it’s the right result,” Pietra said.

They sat in silence for a while. Pietra waited until Amelia’s breathing calmed, until her shoulders dropped from around her ears. Then she grinned. “Want to watch something dumb and distract yourself?”

Amelia nodded. “Please. No babies. No weddings. No surprise pregnancies.”

“I’m putting on The Grand Tour.”

“Ugh, so much worse.”

Pietra laughed.

—

They finally had something to celebrate.

Amelia was sat on the pit wall steps, headset still around her neck, the red imprint from the ear-pads marking her cheeks. The Spanish sun was going soft with late afternoon light, golden and hazy. Her eyes followed Max through the crowd; he was somewhere between smug and exhausted, hugging the engineers one by one, helmet tucked under his arm.

He’d earned this one.

“Ferrari almost had us at the start of the season,” Amelia said quietly, almost to herself. “But I think we might have won out with these new upgrades.”

Adrian nodded. “We’re quicker over the distance. And Max—Max is relentless when he has a point to prove.”

She nodded. Smiled. “He is.”

The race had started out tense. Charles had pole. Max’s DRS had been temperamental all weekend, the kind of small gremlin that could derail a championship effort in the early stages. But Charles’ engine had given up on lap 27, and Max had kept pushing—team orders and all. The one-two with Checo sealed it. It wasn’t just a win.

It was a statement.

Max was, once again, the championship leader. Eleven points clear of Charles now.

Amelia stood slowly, body tired but blood still buzzing from the win. She glanced back once toward the Red Bull garage before walking out toward the paddock.

Max caught her eye through the crowd, grinned with that glinting, boyish confidence. She gave him a cheesy grin in return. She didn’t need to say anything.

He already knew.

—

ameliabrown just posted . . .

ameliabrown My 3rd Instagram post.

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landonorris you are the most beautiful girl in the world i dont understand how ur mine

user62 does he have her post notifications on because brother is ALWAYS the first comment jfc

pietra.pilao BEAUTIFUL GIRL. I NEED YOUR WARDROBE ❤️ by ameliabrown

maxverstappen1 What a great memory!

ameliabrown Many gin tonics for the championship leader

user53 ok own up to it. who showed amelia the instagram filter button

—

June 2022

Baku was brutal.

Straight-line speed ruled the weekend, and the Red Bull's superior DRS efficiency gave Max the edge Amelia had quietly hoped for, though the porpoising issue across the grid was now impossible to ignore. Ferrari’s reliability crumbled in spectacular fashion, both Leclerc and Sainz retiring due to engine issues.

Amelia spent most of Sunday hunched over telemetry graphs and searching for tire degradation patterns in the data. Max drove flawlessly, no unnecessary inputs, no late braking where it wasn’t earned. Just clean, mechanical dominance. She loved it.

In the hotel room that night, Lando sat on the floor, surrounded by colour swatches and lighting samples for the wedding reception tent while Amelia talked about marzipan roses and 3D-printed miniature diffuser centrepieces. He didn’t understand a single one, but he was happy.

He also very gently asked if they could maybe not have a gearbox motif on the wedding cake.

She ignored him.

—

Canada was damp and delicate. The rain had come early in the weekend, turning FP1 into nothing more than a data scrub and giving Amelia a migraine from the constant argument over full wets or inters.

Ferrari’s pace returned, but their strategy floundered, because of course it did.

Lando’s McLaren struggled with top-end performance; not enough power on the straights, and not enough downforce through Turn 10 to make up for it. Amelia scribbled a few notes in her personal notebook, airflow direction at the rear wing junction was still too chaotic, and added them to her "Future Oscar Setup" binder.

Max won. Barely. Carlos had been on his tail for the last ten laps. But it was enough.

The wedding planner sent Amelia a text about flower availability mid-qualifying, and she replied with a 14-item bullet point list between timing sectors. Later that night, back in the hotel, she realised she'd colour-coded the seating chart using FIA compound codes (white = hard family, yellow = medium friends, red = soft VIPs), and Lando nearly died laughing.

“Why are you like this?” He said, still giggling as she shoved a pen behind her ear.

Amelia just shrugged, already halfway through redesigning the table centrepieces to match the McLaren heritage livery.

—

Amelia stirred her iced coffee once, twice. Didn’t drink it. Her hair was still slightly damp from the rain. Across from her, Mark Webber leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, sunglasses perched on his head instead of his nose; that told her everything. He looked like he hadn’t slept properly in weeks.

“Alpine still thinks they have him locked in,” he said. His voice was low, even. “They’re pushing a narrative that doesn't match the contracts.”

Amelia didn’t flinch. “And McLaren?”

“Waiting. Quietly. Playing the long game, just like you said.” He studied her face. “How long have you been planning this?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Since Abu Dhabi 2020.” Her mouth twitched, not quite a smile. “I knew if Oscar was even half the driver I thought he was, it’d be worth it. And it turns out he’s more.”

Mark nodded once, slowly. “You always did have good taste in underdogs.”

“I’m marrying one,” she said dryly.

Mark laughed, the tension in his shoulders loosening for half a second. “Touche.”

There was a pause. Amelia finally sipped her coffee, it had gone warm.

“They’re going to fight us on this,” he said. “Hard.”

“I know,” Amelia replied. “But Oscar isn’t theirs. Not really. You and I both know it. They’ve kept him on ice too long. And if they push… I’ll make noise.”

Mark raised a brow. “Since when do you do noise?”

She gave him a look. “I do precision noise. Controlled chaos. Just enough to shake the right cages.”

Another beat.

“Zak knows?” Mark asked.

“I told him what was going to be happening,” she said. “But when the time comes, I’ll give him the whole picture. And he’ll want it too. Oscar. The car. The future. Me.”

Mark rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. “It’s a good thing Oscar’s worth it.”

“I know he is,” Amelia said. “And I’m going to be there when he proves it.”

NEXT CHAPTER

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mywritersmind · 5 months ago

Text

NOT SO HAPPY HOLIDAYS - LN4

↳pt.3

christmas special

part one - part two

summary : He’s still annoying, just happens to have a charming face that softens the blow. While Y/n and Max continue their sibling rivalry, P plays matchmaker, and two idiots are left alone with a cheesy romance movie and a persistent ex.

og summary : Spending Christmas with my brothers best friend isn’t my ideal way to celebrate. With my parents in the maldives and my ex calling me non stop, I was hoping for a small town cozy christmas! I was going to get that with Max and his girlfriend until Lando Norris worked his way into the mix.

listen up : dual pov! brothers best friend! kissing😳 suggestive content. swearing. BANTERRRRR

words : 4158

⋆｡‧˚⋆

She doesn’t see me yet. I definitely see her.

She’s on her tippy toes that are covered in festive fluffy socks. My gaze drags up her legs to her ass, she’s got these nauseatingly tiny shorts on and a cropped baggy shirt to match.

Her arm is outstretched to try and get a mug but I can’t focus on anything but her. She’s biting her lip, a frustrated look on her face that’s making my mind think very inappropriate things. Her hair is messy and looking perfectly pullabl-

“Shit!” She reaches it, and promptly drops it, causing it to smash onto the tile.

Y/n drops to her knees, looking under the sink for something as her back arches, her head disappearing into the cabinet as I practically drool over her.

“Fucking hell.” I mumble, walking forward to help her and ignore my body’s reaction to hers. “Clumsy this early in the morning, huh sunshine?”

She glares at me, a tiny broom in her hand as she cleans up her mess.

“Let me help.” I go to reach for the broom but she pulls back, saying no and landing on her ass. My smile fades as I recognize the look on her face. “You alright?”

She crosses her legs, dropping the broom and shoving her face into her hands, “Yes.” It’s mumbled and clearly a lie.

I start cleaning up her mess, it’s not a lot and I don’t really know what else to do in her presence. I stand and dump the ceramic pieces in the trash, joining her on the floor again and poking her knee.

“Thanks.” She sounds stuffy, like she’s about to cry. She almost makes me feel bad for checking her out so much while she’s so sad.

“Talk to me, Sunny.” She sniffles and looks up at me. She's not crying but her eyes are red teary.

“I hate when you’re nice to me.” She pushes her hair back, her hands covered from her sleeves. I blink and she sighs, knowing that I want her to continue, “My ex.”

I don’t mean to groan but at least my dramatic act makes her laugh a bit, hitting my knee.

“He won’t stop calling. And I can’t block him because I work with the wanker!” She says exhausted, answering my question about the block button yesterday.

“Well at least he has one thing correct.” She raises a brow at my words, “He knows he lost someone good.”

Y/n shakes her head, “I hate him, Lando.” She breathes, “I hate him more than you.”

This makes me frown, sarcastically saying, “I’m flattered.”

She smiles a bit just as her phone dings again, she screams and puts her head back in her hands, “Y/n.” I say her name for the first time in a while, “Have you responded at all?”

She shakes her head, “I can’t.” She whispers it and I'm worried she actually wants him back. I never met him, but her instagram photos were enough for me to hate him.

I hear footsteps down the stairs, P coming around the corner humming, her smile slowly fading as she spots the two of us on the floor. “Good morning?”

I take Y/n’s hand and practically drag her upward, “Morning, P.” Y/n groans and leans against the counter, tearing her hand away from me and shoving her face into the tabletop now.

P points at Y/n, looking at me quizzically as I shake my head. She understands and skips over to the coffee machine, we sit in silence as P makes Y/n a hot chocolate.

Y/n smiles softly as P hugs her and hands her the hot chocolate. P continues to make her breakfast as I look at Y/n. She’s storing her drink and looking depressed.

It’s christmas! No time for sadness and sucky ex’s! I slide her the marshmallows as her wides widen a bit, smiling at me before dumping half the bag in.

My stomach does a weird thing at the way she looks at me… when Max joins us, I’m quickly distracted but still feel a tiny bit sick. “So! What are you two doing tonight while we’re out?”

Max asks as I scratch the back of my neck, “Um…”

“Movie night!” Y/n looks happier now, “Get ready Norris, welcome to the wonderful world of cheesy romances.”

⋆༺

you

Outside looks like a snowstorm yet we brave it for a quick brunch at a tiny diner that’s packed. I pull off my beanie, my hair a mess.

Lando unravels his scarf, laughing at me, “Looking good, Sunshine.” I stick my tongue out at him as Max ruffles my hair even more.

We sit and eat and for once, there’s no odd tension. I don’t yell at Lando and he doesn’t tease me. P and Max are squished together on the booth side while Lando’s arm is strewn around the back of my chair.

I let it slide because he looks like he’s in a food coma. His eyes are closed and he’s peacefully resting his head to the side.

Our comfortable silence turns to Lando and Max fighting over who’s paying while P and I wave at the baby sitting next to us.

Lando’s fingers wiggle next to my head, leaning in closer to see the baby. She giggles as Lando pokes my face and I give him an annoyed look.

The mom is looking at us so I smile and laugh a bit, “Sorry, she’s adorable.”

“Don’t be!” her hand pulls the cover back so we can see her more. Her little hands scrunch up and Lando and I make the same noise at the same time, “This is June. We call her sunny because- well it just fits her happy little personality!”

I feel Lando’s hand stop moving next to me as P and Max continue gushing over her. Lando clears his throat, “She looks like you.”

The mom smiles wider, “Thank you. You four are just adorable! Are you all here for christmas?”

Max nods, “I dragged my girlfriend and my best friend to have a quiet christmas.”

P smiles as Max squeezes her arm, “Which ultimately failed because these two never shut up.”

Lando laughs, “Like you’re one to talk! You and Y/n speak in a whole different language.” He goes back to playing peek-a-boo with the baby who just adores him.

“She likes you.” The mom says to Lando, “He’ll be good with kids.” She directs this at me which makes my breath cut out and Lando go into a fit of coughs.

Our waiter brings back our cards as P grabs her bag, “It was really nice meeting you. We have to run to the store for our new tradition!”

I raise a brow, “New tradition?”

Max is smiling like an idiot, “Gingerbread contests are back! Don’t be scared sis, just accept your loss now.”

⋆༺

Up until we were Ten and Eleven, Max and I made gingerbread houses every year. I'm not sure why we stopped, maybe because our parents hated how it always ended in tears because everything we did was a competition.

Max’s great idea was to start this up again. So we gathered the boxes and some extra supplies just to make a complete mess of the dining area while Sabrina Carpenter’s christmas music blasts and Max and I scream at each other.

We’ve made a sort of barrier right down the middle of the table. With my luck, Max picked his girlfriend to be on his team because there were only two houses left in the store.

So Lando and I are elbow deep in shitty frosting and tears of laughter. He wipes his eyes but gets frosting onto his face while doing it, “No you-” grabbing my hand, he moves it to steady the already falling house.

We’re a mess and it’s not helping that Lando keeps eating the gumdrops, “Norris!” I yell and slap his hand, “You’re killing my gumdrop families!”

“Your gumdrop families are yummy.” I roll my eyes as he mumbles to himself.

Max and P don’t fight but I'm pretty sure Lan and I sound like a war zone. I’m icing the roof while Lando drops random candy onto it. I kick him with my slipper under the table, “You’re ruining the aesthetic.”

He mimicks my voice, “You’re ruining the aesthetic. Just say you’re in love with me and get over it.” I scoff and hit him with a red vine.

He grins as he take a bite out of it while I laugh at how messy he’s gotten. “Shut up and come help me.” Lando pulls his seat back and sits on it backwards, resting his chin on the back of it and finally contributing.

We add more frosting, kinderds (per Lando’s request), candy canes, and some weird pearl candy P found.

I suck on a lolly while Lando continues to make the icing drip along the sides of the house, trying to mimic icicles. He’s very focused and flexes his arms while doing so. Squeezing out the partially hard icing and distracting me while doing it.

A loud bang sounds. Lando’s skeptical look and Max’s decision to shrug it off makes us continue on even when P starts to say it’s a ghost.

He sits back and admires his handy work, “You two are going down.” He says to Max and P, a mischievous expression on his face.

“Knowing you two… we’re fine.” P laughs and pokes her head around the barrier, her eyes are closed and her tongue out.

I scoff, “What does that mean!?”

I hear Max laugh now, “You’re a perfectionist and Lando’s biggest joy in life is to bug you!”

I stand up quickly, “You set me up!”

“All's fair in love and war.” I round the corner and look at their house. It’s perfect and pink!

I smile and cross my arms, “We can let the media decide this.”

Max smirks while P groans, “Can't we just end it here? You two are ridiculous.”

I grab Lando’s phone from his hand as he frowns, but doesn’t protest. I take a photo of Max holding their gingerbread house since P refused to be posted. Then I turn to Lando and smile, “Take your shirt off.”

“Hey! I expect that from Lando but not you!” Max eyes is both.

Lando head tilts as he looks at me curiously, “At least ask me on a date first, sunshine.” He does it anyways though, not caring out my brother.

“You’re totally unfairly manipulating this!” Max yells as Lando slips off his shirt and holds up our horrible little house.

I snap a photo of him grinning and flexing, and post it next to Max’s with a pole. “It’s called taking the matter into your own hands.”

Lando shivers as he pulls his shirt back on, smirking as he slips his finger into his mouth, cleaning off the icing and making eye contact with me. I clear my throat and turn to my friend who’s looking between the two of us.

“It’s cold in here, right?” P says suspiciously, “Babe, go turn up the heat.” Max disappears around the corner while we all start cleaning up and putting our houses on display on the windowsill

“It’s not moving!” Max yells from the other room, I can hear him hitting it.

“Maybe if you didn’t try to fix everything with force!” I stomp in and look at it with him, pressing my finger against the buttons.

“You’re not even trying-”

I groan, “You’re the one who-”

“Hey!” P yells, standing with her hands on her hips, “The rental lady said there’s a power box in the basement.”

Max pushes past me and hurries down the stairs I haven’t even gone near, “Christ he’s gonna blow us all up.” Lando follows as P shoots me a quick smile.

We can hear them arguing as I throw P a blanket and we wrap ourselves up and sit eating the extra candy. “Yours is so cute.” I sigh and look at her gingerbread house. It’s absolutely adorable and so her.

There’s tiny bows make out of red vines and pink starburst everywhere. She laughs, “I didn’t let Max touch it.” I laugh with her and pop a kinder into my mouth, “You and Lando are a good duo.”

I snort, “Right, a chaotic one.”

She shrugs, “Maybe. But I don’t know… It’s cute.” The second I realize where she’s going with this, I start to shake my head, “Listen!”

“No! No, Pietra! He’s… Fuck, He’s Lando Norris.” I’m still shaking my head as she dons an unconvinced expression.

“He flirts with you all the time!”

“In a joking way!” I argue, “And I can’t stand it!”

“He touches you a lot.”

“And It drives me crazy! He just likes pissing me off.”

She shakes her head slowly, a smile on her face as she brings the blanket up to her neck, “You like him.”

My face feels hot and I'm getting frustrated which is making it worse because she can tell, “He calls me names.”

“Yeah!” she scoffs, “an adorable nickname! That he made up when he was fifteen! The way he looks at you Y/n… it’s like- well…”

“Don’t say it!” I warn but the blonde doesn’t listen.

“It’s how Max looks at me.”

I sigh, putting my face in my hands, “P. Max is in love with you, Lando doesn’t…” My sentence ends in a whisper as she smirks, “I barely like him as a friend! Like literally three days ago I couldn’t stand him! Not much has changed.”

She shrugs, “By all means, keep it up. It’s entertaining to watch.” I roll my eyes and play with the wrapper in my hand as a bang comes from downstairs. “Just… you deserve someone like him.”

“He has like a million girlfriends.”

“He does not!” She laughs, “At least not anymore!” I give her a look as she reaches over and takes my hand, “All i’m saying is that I completely support whatever you do! Even if it’s a one night thing.” My eyes widen as she squeezes my hand and winks, “I won’t tell Max.”

I push her away and sit back in my chair, crossing my arms and smiling at my friend, “Also we’ll be gone for like three hours tonight.”

I laugh and throw a piece of candy at her as Lando and Max come up the stairs. Lando is picking cobwebs off of himself while Max wipes his hands on his jeans, “Welp, hopefully that worked.”

⋆༺

lando

“Let's watch Notting Hill.” She visibly pauses when I say it, looking at me confused with a bowl of popcorn over her blanket covered lap.

“Notting Hill!?” She repeats it, then shakes her head, “You never fail to surprise me, Lando.” I like it when she says my name, even when it’s a bit demeaning.

I lean my head back, she’s covered the couch in every blanket and pillow we could find. After the heater broke, she swore she was still cold so she’s extra bundled even though i’m sweating.

She finally tugs off her third layer of blankets and grabs the remote, “We’re watching a Christmas Prince.”

I frown but don’t say anything because I'm scared she’ll leave me down here alone and go call her best friend or something.

I’d rather play a game so we could talk or I could at least look at her, but she insists I have to watch this god awful movie.

She gave me some grace while eating delivered pizza and talking about the drivers she’s met which (scarily enough) is a lot.

Y/n is normally yelling at me during any movie to get me to shut up, but everytime I ask a question today, she answers in detail.

“Who’s this dick who took her cab!?” She smiles at my words, eating her popcorn and flipping her phone face down so it stops distracting her. “Ugly beard too.”

She gives me a look which makes me groan, “He’s the prince, isn’t he!?” She nods as I look up at her. Her hair is down and outright messy from her hood and the multiple blankets she has around her.

“It’s called a meet cute.” Y/n shrugs and watches the screen again.

“A meet cute?” I grab from her bowl, “But there was nothing cute about it.”

She eyes me, “Okay maybe it’s more of a meet hate… or a meet dislike? Maybe a meet argue.”

“Okay now I just want steak.” Y/n rolls her eyes again as I smile, “So, sort of like us?”

She sits up more, looking at me and laughing, “What would our meet hate be, then? I don’t even remember the first time we met.”

I’m a little offended because I do. “You were karting with Max and I for the first time and you totally ran me off the road!”

She turns more to me, ��I don’t remember this but I'm going to stick up for my child self and say that it was your fault.”

My eyes roll. “You really have not changed. You blamed me for it because we were racing to win and Max got by both of us and ended up with the trophy.”

She laughs and fuck, I love that sound. “Sounds about right. But you definitely egged me on.”

“Oh one thousand percent! But I was just coping with the fact that the girl I had a crush on completely destroyed my ego!” I don’t really realize what I've said until she raises a brow.

“You had a crush on me!?” She laughs as I groan and shake my head.

I’m blushing now even though it was so many years ago, “I was like ten!”

“You fanciedddd me!” she drags out the words as she tries to pull the blanket off my head, “Norris!”

“Leave me alone!” She’s hitting me with a pillow now, “I had no idea what a terror you were!”

She scoffs, pulling back, “You little bitch, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know if you know this Sunshine, but you’re fucking terrifying.” Y/n’s eyes are teary from laughing and her smile is so big it almost makes me happy she found out.

“So what, you stopped having a crush on me when you actually got to know me?” I don’t want to lie to her, and I don’t know if I can about this.

“Shhh…” I grab a handful of the popcorn, “watch the movie.” She lays closer to me, her hair brushing my shoulder and our eyes both go back to the screen.

Y/n and I aren’t this close often. We aren’t ever alone. And I have to admit, the one thing I dislike about my best friend is that he is adamant on keeping me away from his sister.

His ‘Hands to yourself’ reminder before he left was enough fuel to my fire for the night.

“She’s annoying.” I groan after way too many minutes of this movie. I’m pretty sucked in though I won’t admit that to Y/n.

“That is a common theme with these movies.” She nuzzles her head closer to me, “It adds to the charm.”

“Does it?” I frown and adjust myself, trying to get more comfortable and slipping my arm around her and expecting to be met with criticism.

She stays quiet though, just rests her head against my shoulder and shifts to the side.

I don’t know if she realizes it, but she’s been playing with the sleeve of my hoodie for the past twenty minutes. I don’t want to move, I don’t want the movie to be over, I don’t want her to hate me again.

Her phone rings and a small groan comes from her, she sits up, her warmth leaving me. “I thought I turned this stupid thing off.” She grabs her phone, flipping it around and rolling her eyes at the contact.

WHORE DO NOT ANSWER

Is the contact name with a picture of her ex with drawn on devil horns. I can tell she’s about to hang up but I always act on impulse.

Her phone is in my hand in seconds, pressing answer and holding it to my ear as she screams and jumps on me. “Y/n?” It’s a guys voice and I hate him instantly, “You finally picked up!”

I flip Y/n off my back and shove my hand over her mouth, trying to hold her down while I listen to her ex’s annoying voice.

“Hey!” I say just as the line goes quiet at the sound of another man’s voice.

“Who’s this?” I roll my eyes at him even though only Y/n can see me. She’s squirming and mumbling under my hand. She is remarkably easy to hold back for how determined she is.

“None of your business! How about we cut to the problem at hand and discuss why the fuck you’re still calling Y/n after you cheated on her?” he tries to talk but I cut him off, “Take a long look in the mirror bud because you will never be good enough to win her back.”

“Is this her new boyfriend?” He asks sternly.

“I’ll tell you that i’m not someone to fuck with, especially when it comes to Y/n. You don’t deserve to ever even look at her again but she is a professional woman who can be civil, even if it is towards a jackass like you.” He’s quiet now and Y/n is getting free so I hurry up, “Y/n has been gracious and practically a fucking saint to deal with your shit for the past year so stop calling!”

She finally breaks free and ends the call, out of breath and looking at me like I'm worthy of death.

She throws her phone onto the couch, on her knees and pushing back her messy hair. “He completely deserved it.” I try to back myself up as I fall onto my elbows, looking up at her.

She’s staring at me still, and I'm slightly scared for my life. But then her eyes soften and she does the most unexpected thing i’ve ever experienced.

She kisses me.

Her hands are on my face and her lips are squished against mine. We fall back on the blankets as my hands find her waist and I fully understand what’s happening.

I kiss her back, hard and fast like if I don’t take this opportunity now, it might never happen again.

She’s on top of me and just the weight of her makes my dick twitch. I slip my hands under her hoodie, her skin warm and soft. She lets out a little whimper when my hands tighten against her hips, unconsciously grinding into me.

“Fuck.” I mumble against her lips as her hands go to my hair. She’s breathing heavier and just as i’m about to start on her neck, the door opens.

She’s off me in a second, “Fuck.” Her hand goes to her mouth and her eyes go wide as the footsteps of our friends echo through the house.

“Oh, of course.” I say exasperatedly, sitting up and dragging a pillow onto my lap.

“Landooo! Y/n!” Max calls for us as I point at her lips which are now the same shade of red as her cheeks.

I reach over and smooth out Y/n’s hair. She looks so genuinely shocked and scared while I'm just annoyed that we had to be interrupted.

She plops down on the other side of the couch, pulling the blanket up high to her face and avoiding my eyes. “In here!” I mumble as they walk through the doors.

I look back to see Max and P all dressed up and smiling. They look wine drunk, holding hands while P kicks off her heels.

“Movie time!” P giggles and rounds the couch to sit next to Y/n who makes eye contact with me and for some reason, makes me laugh.

Max wraps his arm around P while looking at us funny. Y/n is giggling now while I just cover my face with a pillow and shake my head, “So what are we watching?”

P picks another hallmark movie and I make eye contact with Y/n again. I start laughing and Max seems genuinely annoyed this time, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” I say quickly. “How was your night?”

“Perfect!” P snuggles into her boyfriend, “How about you two?”

Y/n shrugs as if she wasn’t on top of me moments ago, “Boring. Lando hated the movie.”

“I did not! I was just distracted.” No one bats an eye at my excuse except for Y/n who hides her smirk with her hot chocolate.

#fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fic #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris series #lando norris fluff #lando x you #f1 christmas #christmas fanfic

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no-144444 · 1 month ago

Text

side street- c.leclerc

summary: clubs aren't just for dancing, sometimes, it's for reconciliation too.

pairing: charles leclerc x fem! wolff! reader

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“Tonight is literally a movie,” Charles mocked, bringing his drink to his mouth, then lowering it again. “I mean who says that? We’re not 17 anymore.”

“Just talk to her,” Arthur whined. “I cannot take this pathetic, sad Charles anymore. I mean for fuck’s sake, you spent three hours on the piano last night!”

“She doesn’t want to see me,” he shook his head and Arthur moved to open his mouth, but Charles held up a sharp hand. “Her parents would kill me. Dead. And her.”

“It wasn’t even that bad, when you think about it,” Arthur argued. “What’s her parent’s problem with you anyway?”

Charles stared at him for a moment, a blank look of disappointment on his face. “You are joking, right?”

“Yeah, sorry. You have a point,” he nodded. Charles’s mouth dropped open at his brother’s blatant hypocrisy. “I am not saying I’m a saint! We’re just… talking about you right now!”

He scoffed, chuckling and looking back to the party. Back to you. Dancing with him. George Russell. That’s who Toto wants. That’s who Susie wants. That’s who you should want. That’s who you deserve. Not someone who has been more loyal to an F1 team than his past relationships. Not Charles.

“You’re moping,” Lando scoffed, sitting beside him. “I told you not to go after her,” he tutted.

“Try resisting her,” Charles scoffed, nudging him in the side. “She’s everything.”

“Shit, you’re in love,” Lando cursed, a smirk on his lips. “Catch feelings Mr. Cheater?”

The three of them were silent, Lando and Arthur watching Charles as he watched you. The way your dress clung to your body, the way your hips swayed, the smile on your ridiculously beautiful face, the way your eyes creased at the sides when you laughed, the way you jumped up and down for the song playing- your favourite song. He felt something in his chest ache. He wanted you, yes. But he wanted the girl he knew so well. Working from bed on the days he got off, smiling in the dark, the way you looked at him. He missed it all. He missed you all the time. “I’m fucked.”

“Glad you came to that conclusion,” Lando smacked a hand on his back and grabbed ahold of his jacket, pulling him up. “Because we’re going to go talk to her.”

Charles’s stomach dropped, but his feet were working overtime to get over to you quick enough.

“Y/n!” Lando shouted over the music. “I need to talk to you!”

You turned away from George to be met with Charles’s face, and your smile dropped into a face of surprise. Your eyes lingered on him for a moment as the song changed, something slower, more dangerous. Perfect for the night that was in it.

“What’s up Lando?” you turned to him, but he’d already disappeared. “Oh fuck, where’d he go?”

“I need to talk to you,” Charles gritted out, the adrenaline and nervousness rushing through his body. “Outside?”

Despite your better judgement, you let him lead you out of the club and into a side street, his anxiety growing. What would he even say? He had no clue what he was meant to say to convince you to take him back, to put your trust in him that he wouldn’t fuck it up.

“Y/n, I’m-”

But you didn’t let him finish. You pressed your lips against his and ran your hands through his hair, messing it up. His stupidly perfect shaggy hair. You pulled on it, bringing him closer. He wouldn't have cared if you pulled it out. He loved this. Your whole body pressing up against his, your lips on his again, your scent near him again, it was vexing. You were enchanting him, calling him to the depths of the sea like a siren, and he was much too happy to drown. His hands circled your waist, pulling you even closer (if that was possible), and he just enjoyed the moment. The last time he’d kissed you, he hadn’t known it would be the last time. You were hungry, kissing him like you needed it. Needed him. “I missed you so much,” you breathed out, then kissed him again.

“I missed you too,” he huffed, pulling back and looking at you. Smudged lipstick. Puffy lips. Soft smile. Beautiful.

“I want you, I don’t care what my parents say,” you admitted, your voice strong, but he could feel the anxiety radiating off of you. “If you’ll have me.”

He chuckled at the absurdity of him not wanting you. “I’ll always want you,” he smiled. “You’re everything to me.”

You were both quiet, the electric energy between the two of you making it impossible to look away.

You spoke up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“So you’re going to take me home…?” you smirked.

Charles groaned and kissed you again. “If I ever say no to that, shoot me.”

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navigation for my blog :)

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moonstruckme · 4 months ago

Note

Hey Mae!!! I love your writing and have been a silent supporter for a long time but I was wondering if I could request something with one of the marauders (or all of them) having an oh moment, but not like an “oh I love them,” kinda thing but like an “oh I’ve made it” sorta thing? I don’t really know how to explain it well sorry, but like they didn’t think they’d actually be in this relationship or they didn’t think they’d get this far in life with them? I’m really sorry I’m just babbling on about something that doesn’t make sense but if you could find some way to write this or if I spark any kind of inspiration I would be so grateful!! Thank you for even considering and sorry for such a long request, love you! Can’t wait to see what you’ve got next! (But don’t overwork yourself! eat, drink, and sleep!!!)

Thank you for your lovely request angel! And thank you to @ellecdc for helping me figure out what to do with it :)

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 639 words

James listens as your voice changes, drifting into the kitchen and back out again as you go to toss an old newspaper into the bin. You’re tidying as you talk, telling him about the book you’ve just finished. Not so James will read it, but so he’ll feel like he has. Simply because you like to share things with him.

You gather envelopes from the dining table between your hands, flicking through them absentmindedly, pausing in your rambling to ask, “Do you need this notice?”

“No, that’s alright,” he says from the couch. “Bin it.”

Your table has become a mess. James doesn’t know when it happened. It’s the closest thing to the door when you come in, so it’s accumulated receipts, flyers, and anything else the two of you don’t want to hold onto when you get home. You sort it all into piles, voice a reassuring melody.

Outside, the sun is going down. Syrupy golden light bathes you in a warm glow, coming in through the window like it was meant to find you. James is honestly unsure how he got so lucky.

James Potter is no stranger to love. He was brought up to feel with his whole heart, and he knows how fortunate he is to have parents who raised him that way, and friends as good as he has, and a girlfriend so lovely. But this life.

There’s your mail, all mixed together on the dining table. And the meal you’ll likely share there later, maybe with the tall candles you were so happy to find on sale earlier in the week. You could have last night’s leftovers, or James could make you his mother’s pasta, which you love, and lean over the table to kiss sauce off the corners of your lips. Afterwards you’ll probably curl up on the couch to watch one of your shows. James loves that you have shows you watch together, loves that you wait for him to watch new episodes and always say let’s just watch one more when you’re already heavy and yawning against his side. He loves your flat, and your inside jokes, and all the things you don’t need words for.

He wonders how often people get this lucky. That they just go and make the perfect life with someone without even realizing.

“Hey, sunshine.”

You look up at him through the aureate glow. You appear amused at the new endearment, not of James’ usual repertoire. You don’t realize how fitting it is.

“Could you come here for a moment?”

“What’s up?” you ask, setting down the stack you’re working on. You sit just where he knows you will, tucked up against his side. James wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in snug like a key fitting to its lock.

“Nothing,” he says, turning to give you a proper hug. You let him half haul you onto his lap, your hands on his shoulders and his face in your neck. You smell like home. Like your lotion and the bathroom after you shower and lazy Sunday mornings.

“James.” Your voice is a happy hum by his ear. “What’s this about?”

“I love you.” He nuzzles underneath your jaw, relishing your surprised laughter. “I love this. I love us.”

Your fingers burrow into his curls. “I love us, too,” you say, softly.

“Do you want my mum’s pasta for dinner tonight?”

“Ooh, yes. Always.” You pull back from him, holding his head still so you can look at him. Your thumb draws a loving semicircle by his temple. “I was thinking I could light those candles I found.”

James beams. “I thought you might.”

You give an odd smile back. Bemused, but also horrendously besotted. “You’re being weird.”

James kisses you sweetly with a smile still on his lips. “Only for you, my love.”

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malikaihii · 2 months ago

Text

tw: Comments on weight, negative comments from a parent, overall hurt/comfort, also i am not japanese so apologies if there’s any errors in terms used. Also apologies for spelling or grammar issues.

It was the first time Ushijima Wakatoshi would be meeting your parents. You’d been together for a few months now, and your parents wanted to meet the man in your life. Begrudgingly, you accepted their dinner invitation. Though, you made sure to warn the man that they (your mother) may be a bit much, and if at any point he was uncomfortable, you guys could leave. No questions asked.

Ushijima was prepared. He had always gotten along well with adults. He himself had always acted politely, quietly, and with the nature of someone much older than he actually was. So, despite your warnings. He was fully prepared. You yourself had told him they’d love him, so why wouldn’t he be prepared? He was completely ready for the events of the evening.

Or so he thought.

Because right now, you’re sitting together at the dinner table, and Ushijima swears he never could have been fully, or even slightly, prepared for what he’s witnessing.

“Oh my god! Are you already at your second plate? No need to eat so fast, we made plenty!” your mother laughs, the noise scratching Ushijima’s brain in all the worst ways, “You know, we made food so that your boyfriend could eat more. He actually has a reason to eat so much!”

Your mother had spent the entire evening critiquing your every move. He swears he hadn’t heard a single nice thing fall from her mouth.

“A man like him should be with someone more composed and calm! You don’t want to annoy him, dear.” Your mother states, after you had spoken a bit too long for her liking.

Though, Ushijima would never agree with her. He loved hearing you speak. He loved how energetic and excited you got. It balanced well with his quiet demeanor.

He’d noticed, almost instantly, how uncomfortable her comments had made you. Your face would fall; going from its happy smile into a deep frown. Each time she spoke he’d grab your hand and squeeze it tightly. Partially, to comfort you, the other part was to clam himself down.

As the dinner ended, he had stood up to help with the dishes and clean up. You had as well.

“Oh, dear! No need to worry about clean up! y/n can handle it, after all that’s what good partners should do!” She said, giggling yet again.

Ushijima praised himself on his ability to remain calm. He rarely let things bother him. Now, however, he was struggling to hold his irritation in.

How dare someone belittle you in such a way? He didn’t care that it was your mother, you’re his love. He wasn’t comfortable just sitting around letting someone talk over you. Letting her talk as though you were a burden.

He loves you. He loves the way you talk excitedly. He loves taking care of you. He doesn’t want you to ever feel that it’s you place, your “duty”, to pick up after his mess. Frankly, it was disrespectful. Did they think so little of him, that he’d treat his lover with such blatant disrespect?

“It’s quite alright, l/n-san.” He stated shortly, helping you clean up despite her comments.

After cleaning, you guys had all sat down to watch a movie. The movie showed a beautiful young main character. They had their life together, were well in shape, respectful, and respected.

“You know, y/n, you really should be more like them. They’ve got their life together and everything! You better hurry before your boyfriend here realizes what he’s missing out on.” Your mother states; this was the third time she’s mentioned Ushijima deserving “better”.

The man in mention, had quite frankly, had enough. He couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t sit here and listen to such belittling anymore, not towards you.

Still appearing as calm as ever, though you saw right through him, he rose from his seat.

“Thank you for having us, however, I’m afraid we’ll have to cut this meeting short. I have practice in the morning.”

He didn’t. That’s why you guys had chosen this night in the first place. It gave you more time. However, the finality in his tone led for no further arguments. And honestly, you were greatful. You just wanted to leave.

After saying quick and short thanks and goodbyes, he grabbed your hand and left the building.

Neither of you spoke on the way home, though with the grip in which he held on your hand, you didn’t need to. You knew he was frustrated.

When you arrived home, he immediately hugged you. He barely gave you time to even close the door.

“I’m so sorry.”

That was all he had said.

“You have no reason to be. I’m sorry that they were a bit rude, they really have no filter at times.”

He pulled back and just stared at you, still holding your shoulders.

“They’re stupid.”

Your eyes widened. It was rare for Ushijima to speak so rudely, especially in relation to an elder.

“I apologize if that’s rude to say, however, It’s true. They spent the whole evening critiquing you for being human. They dared to insinuate that you weren’t the best thing to ever happen to me. As well as to belittle my favorite things about you? To belittle you? Stupid.”

It was rare to see the man so worked up. He was usually so nonchalant. Honestly, it was flattering seeing him so worked up over you. So upset over the way your mother spoke to you. Your heart warmed as you just held him. Knowing that even when you couldn’t rely on your own mother to love you, you could always rely on him.

#ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #hurt/comfort #haikyuu ushijima #ushijima x you #hq ushijima #hq fluff #hq comfort #hq drabble #hq x reader #ushijima comfort #haikyu x reader #hq #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyū!!#haikyū!! x reader #haikyū x reader

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headkiss · 5 months ago

Text

it’s christmas (this is gonna be a nightmare)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve puts a little too much pressure on himself to make this holiday a magical one. or: 4 times steve messes up your first christmas together, +1 time it's perfect.

word count: 7.4k

content: established relationship, one injury (no blood!), some kisses, a lot of steve's thoughts, and a love confession <3 fluff all around!!!

a/n: a full length fic!! it's a christmas miracle!! thank you to the anon who sent the ask that inspired this fic and to all of u for being here. i love u, happy holidays <3

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Steve Harrington doesn’t know too much about what exactly a perfect Christmas looks like. He has his parents to thank for that.

What he does know is that this year has to be just that: perfect. Because this year he has you.

Though you went to high school together, you and Steve properly met in the summer. Right at the beginning of it, where the evenings still have a chill of wind but the sun cuts through it with welcomed warmth. Robin convinced him to take her to the flower shop just outside of town, and you’d been behind the counter to greet them.

Robin recognized you, and she chatted your ear off while you helped her pick a bouquet with the sweetest smile Steve had ever seen and he felt like an absolute moron for never having noticed you before at school. But he noticed you then.

He’d forced Robin to wait for him in the car while he stayed back, bought you your own bouquet of flowers from the store as if you weren’t the one who’d made them, and asked you on a date. Steve fumbled the whole way through, pricking himself with a rose thorn and cussing mid-sentence, but you still said yes.

You’ve been together ever since, and Steve feels incredibly lucky for it. Lucky for how kind you are, how well you fit in with his friends, how much the kids (Max, especially, though he won’t call her out on it) like you. Lucky for being allowed to grab your hand, to kiss you whenever he wants.

And, on the nights you stay over that grow more frequent with each month, lucky to have you fill the space in the Harrington home that usually feels so cold and empty.

So, maybe the holidays make him extra sentimental, maybe he cares a little too much about making sure it’s the best damn Christmas you could have. Maybe, for once, he’s actually looking forward to it all.

Robin startles him into the present — leaning on the counter at Family Video — with a stiff poke to the cheek. “Dude, I can literally tell you’re thinking about her by the look on your face. It’s kinda gross.”

He scoffs at her, even though he probably was making a face. “Sounds like jealousy to me, Buckley.”

“Shut up, if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even know each other! I deserve compensation.”

Steve hangs his head dramatically. Robin is never letting that go. Ever.

“My friendship isn’t enough for you?” Steve says, placing a hand over his heart, “You wound me.”

“You annoy me,” she says, flicking his arm.

“Ow- whatever. You’ll be free of me in like five minutes.”

Steve checks his watch just to be sure. Robin’s closing by herself today, and while Steve would normally just stay and bother her anyways, he’s got plans that involve you and takeout and napping together on his couch.

As if the thought conjures it, you walk through the door, the bell jingling cheerily above your head, Steve’s car keys dangling from your fingertips. (Yes, he lets you drive the BMW.)

“Thank God,” Robin says when she sees it’s you. “Please get rid of him, he’s getting on my nerves.”

You smile and walk towards Steve, who immediately tosses an arm over your shoulders and pulls you in close, stamping a kiss to the side of your head.

You turn your head to the side and look at him, “What did you do?”

Steve gasps, “Me? Honey, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

You send him a wink, and Steve grins. He fucking loves having you with him, being able to speak without speaking. Your hand grabbing his and squeezing says I missed you, his squeezing back says me too.

“Okay, please remove your public displays of affection from the store and leave me alone with the overplayed Christmas song radio station, thank you.” Robin announces.

“Don’t miss me too much, Robs. I know it’ll be tough,” Steve says, guiding you forward.

“Good to see you, Robin!” you wave on your way out.

“You too!” And just before the door closes behind you, Robin’s voice rings out; “You’re my favourite half of the relationship!”

Your smile widens. Steve is the best thing that’s happened to you, and his friends becoming yours is one of the greatest bonuses you could ask for. It’s like his life made room for you as simply as the ocean’s tide pulls in and out. Gentle and certain.

He catches the keys when you toss them to him, and Steve’s mood just seems to lift and lift on the drive back to his place with you in the passenger seat, Christmas lights lining the streets glowing on your cheeks.

Yeah, he thinks, this Christmas is going to be perfect.

That weekend Steve calls you and tells you to be ready by noon and to dress warmly. He doesn’t tell you much else besides his usual ‘see you soon, honey’ or ‘miss you’ murmured sweetly through the phone.

As instructed, you’re dressed in a pair of jeans and one of your favourite knitted sweaters, your brown leather jacket overtop and socked feet stuffed into your Doc Martens. Though you feel plenty warm, Steve will probably fuss over you and hold you close for body heat anyways. And, well, you’d never be opposed to that.

Steve’s BMW rolls into your driveway exactly one minute past twelve, and by the time you walk outside to meet him, he’s already standing on the passenger side of the car waiting to open the door for you.

“Always a gentleman,” you say, kissing him quickly on the cheek.

You slide into the seat that’s become yours for the most part, and Steve ducks down to kiss you properly on the mouth before pulling back, “Mm maybe not always.”

He closes your door and you laugh lightly, your face a little warm even though he’s been your boyfriend for months now. You don’t think you’ll ever be unaffected by Steve Harrington’s charm, ever be used to it being aimed at you.

Of course, you knew of him in school, but knowing the real thing, the kind, caring boy who’d been buried under King Steve back then, is probably the greatest gift you’ve ever had.

Steve drives with one hand just above your knee, his thumb running back and forth over the stitching in your jeans. Still, he doesn’t tell you where he’s taking you, his only hint was to “pay attention to the radio station.”

It’s playing Christmas music. Like that narrows things down a whole bunch.

You chat the entire way. Steve asks you how the flower shop is doing (“Poinsettias are flying off the shelves”), you ask him who he got for the group’s secret Santa this year (“Max. I’m going to need your assistance”). It’s so easy to talk to him, to laugh and joke and not have to worry about what you say or how you come off.

You never knew being with someone could be so easy until Steve.

Eventually, he pulls into the long driveway of a farm. A Christmas tree farm, to be exact, if the wooden arch you drive through is to be trusted.

“What are you planning, Harrington?”

He shrugs, his hand squeezing your knee, “Thought we could pick out a tree together. Put it up at the house. My parents aren’t gonna be around — shocker, I know — I figured we’d do it together. Make it our own.”

Steve pats your leg before letting it go and putting the car in park, his palms dragging over his thighs like he’s suddenly nervous.

“Our first Christmas tree,” you say quietly, almost to yourself, a smile creeping onto your face. He really is sweet. “I love it. Let’s go adopt a tree, Stevie.”

He flashes you a smile before getting out and jogging around the hood to open your door for you. You’ve learned to wait for him to do it since you’ve been together. The last time you tried to open your own door he made you close it again just so he could be the one to open it.

Before, you’d never really cared about that sort of thing, but Steve has single-handedly raised your expectations.

He grabs your hand and leads you towards the classic red and white barn, following the signs painted simply with a tree and an arrow pointing you in that direction.

When you turn the corner and see the selection of trees, however, Steve pauses.

There are maybe seven trees left, none of which are very impressive upon first glance. Their branches are skinny and the pine needles leave a lot of space to see through them. It’s safe to say these aren’t the Christmas trees Steve was hoping to surprise you with.

He was sure there’d be something better left, at least. And he’d been wrong. Minus a point on that perfect Christmas, he supposes.

Still, he walks you to the selection, the farm’s employee greeting the two of you as you walk up; “Hey y’all. Good afternoon!”

“Hey man,” Steve starts, “you wouldn’t happen to have any more trees left, would you?”

“Sorry folks, this is all we’ve got. Most people like to get ‘em early.”

Steve’s hope dwindles, and you can see him deflate a little bit.

You, however, don’t mind one bit. You tug on his arm to get his attention, and Steve turns to look at you, brown eyes shining like honey in the sunlight. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “Even the little trees need homes, right?”

He shakes his head with a small smile. It’s cute, he thinks, the way you tend to talk about plants as if they have feelings. You do it when you tell him about the flowers you sell, too.

“Right as usual, honey,” he decides. “Pick your favorites.”

So, you wind up with two small Christmas trees rather than one full one, and there’s a small victory in it when you and Steve strap them both to the top of the BMW without too much of a struggle.

Another victory when you sing along to ‘Last Christmas’ and hold out your fist as if there’s a microphone in your grip to get him to join you. Admittedly, it isn’t a very good rendition, but Steve loves it all the same.

You have a way of turning things around for him, even without knowing it.

When you get back to Steve’s, he brings both of the trees inside and sets them up before bringing down the bins of ornaments and lights from the attic. He only shouted once when a spider crawled over his hand.

Having two trees makes it easy to turn decorating into a lighthearted competition. You both claim one as your own and decorate them with string lights and tinsel and ornaments. Steve’s mom would probably have an aneurysm seeing them used so haphazardly.

Though by the end, your tree is definitely prettier, Steve still feels like he’s won something as you lean your back against his chest and his arms cross over your own, keeping you there.

As a kid, he wasn’t even allowed to do the decorating. Mrs. Harrington had to make everything look picture perfect, and Steve’s hands didn’t help with that. Not according to her.

Today couldn’t feel more different from those memories of his childhood.

“Yours is better,” he tells you, chin perched on your shoulder, his voice low in your ear.

Objectively, it probably is better (your prior experience with arranging plants was an advantage), but you don’t actually care about that.

Today felt like a little glimpse into the future you and Steve could have. It’s easy to picture it: your own apartment, buying decorations you both actually like, setting it all up together every year.

“I think they’re both brilliant,” you say.

And while today wasn’t what he was picturing, wasn’t what he’d hoped for with his ideal holiday in mind, Steve finds that he can certainly live with that. Your adorable little clap when you’d finished decorating was enough to cement it.

It’s only one thing. He’s got plenty of chances to be perfect later, he guesses.

Steve dips his head and kisses the top of your shoulder over your sweater.

You stay over at Steve’s that weekend. You’re both off work, and you find yourself spending your days (and nights) off with Steve more and more.

In the morning, you blink your eyes open slowly, naturally. No alarm set, your boy wrapped around you. It’s how you’ll spend every morning someday.

The sunlight sneaks through a crack in the curtains, cutting a line across Steve’s blue bedding. You squint at it, shifting onto your back gently. Steve’s arm remains slung over your waist as you move, his knee against your leg. You roll your head to the side to look at him, a smile creeping over your mouth at the way his cheek is smushed into the pillow, his lips pouting and hair a mess over his forehead.

Mornings have easily become your favorite time to spend with Steve. He’s cuddling you in some way every single time without fail, even when he wakes up. His voice is all low and gravelly from sleep and it feels like an honor to get to be the one to hear it like that. Usually, you spend an hour in bed with him after waking up. Laying together, talking, kissing. Sometimes (often) more.

You’d stay put right now if you didn’t have to pee so bad.

Slipping out of bed without Steve noticing proves a challenge, his arm tightens over you in his sleep, his brows scrunching. You whisper a soft “I’ll be right back.” He mumbles something incoherent, but his arm relaxes and you’re able to sneak away.

On your way back from the bathroom, you pause and take a peek out the window. You gasp happily at what you see: snow. A bright, white layer blanketing the ground sparkling in the sunlight.

You turn back to the bed and let yourself fall to it with a bounce, earning another grumbled protest from Steve, but there’s no way you’re going back to sleep now. You trail a hand up his arm to his shoulder, giving it a small shake, “Stevie, wake up.”

“Hm?” his eyes scrunch before opening. “What happened, honey?”

“It snowed!”

“Yeah?” he huffs a laugh at your excitement, his hand searching for yours in the sheets.

“Yeah, and it’s so pretty. We should go out before it melts.”

“It’s winter, sweetheart. Not gonna melt that fast.”

“Steve.”

“Okay, okay,” his hand leaves yours in favor of wrapping itself around you again, and he uses it to tug you close again. “Just five more minutes.”

His nose is pressed to the top of your head, and he breathes you in, smiling to himself. Mornings are Steve’s favorite, too. Only when they’re spent with you.

Secretly, he’s also happy about the snow. He was hoping mother nature would be on his side so that he could check yet another holiday item off his list with you. Hopefully one that will turn out nicer than the tiny trees you’d ended up with.

It’s definitely more than five minutes by the time you get Steve to get up and out of bed. You attempt to get him outside right away. He stops you with a: “No snow-related activities on an empty stomach!”

So, it’s a rushed breakfast of bagels and coffee provided by Steve, and then you’re gearing up and heading into the back yard.

The cold bites at your cheeks, and the tip of Steve’s nose is pink within minutes, but you love it.

There’s a snowman built together, snow angels made that get ruined when Steve rolls himself on top of you and steals a kiss or five. Naturally, all there is left to do is have a snowball fight.

You start it when you’re still on the ground, a hand sneaking into the snow to grab a handful and pressing it to the back of Steve’s head. He gasps, and you take the opportunity to push him to the side and get up.

“No fair!” he calls. “I was distracted and you went for the hair.”

“Your fault for not wearing a hat, babe,” you laugh.

“Oh, you won’t be laughing for long, honey. You’re in for it.”

And just like that, you’re running around like kids in a schoolyard, hiding behind trees, slugging snowballs at each other and cheering when you manage to not miss.

Steve silently thanks mother nature or the universe or whatever made it snow for the wide smile on your face, your eyes shining with mirth.

At one point, you’re suddenly distracted by something in the trees, and the snowball is out of Steve’s hand before he sees you start to look towards him again.

It hits you square in the face.

A quick “Ow” comes out of your mouth, though it really doesn’t hurt that bad. Your first reaction is just to let it slip, but Steve’s heart sinks to his stomach.

“Shit, honey.” He runs over to you and cups your face in his hands, his mittens soft against your skin as he brushes the snow from your face. “Fuck. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t tryin’ to get you in the face.”

Minus another point, for sure. Perfect Christmas: -2.

“I know, don’t worry,” you tell him, because he clearly is worrying.

“You okay?” he checks. He literally winces when you sniffle, frowns when he sees the way your eyes water. “Honey. I’m sorry.”

“Honestly, Steve, I’m fine,” you reach up and grab his wrists, squeezing them over his jacket. “I’m only crying ‘cause it got my nose. It doesn’t actually hurt.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you assure him. “Didn’t you used to play sports in school? Thought athletes had better aim.”

“I was a swimmer, baby. No projectiles involved.” He smiles softly when you laugh, but he can’t stop himself from asking one more time. “You’re really not hurt?”

“It’s just a bit of snow, Stevie.”

His eyes run over your face anyway before he nods. Then, he dips forwards and lightly kisses your cheek, the other, the tip of your nose, and your mouth.

“Well now I’m certainly all better,” you say against his lips.

Steve pulls back but doesn’t go far. “I think this snowball fight is over.”

“Buzzkill,” you tease.

He bends down and picks up a handful of snow before shoving it in his own face.

“Steve!” you laugh.

“There, now we’re even,�� he says, snowflakes clinging to his lashes.

You let him lead you inside after that, his arm draping over your shoulders, yours hugging his middle as you walk across the yard.

Once you’ve both shed your layers of coats and boots and hats and mittens, Steve takes you upstairs and runs you a bath to warm you up. He apologizes another two times when he looks at your face for too long, and you have to kiss him to stop him uttering another ‘sorry.’

Hell, if it’s gonna make him this sweet on you, you’d probably take a snowball to the face any day.

Eventually, when the bathtub is full, a layer of bubbles over the surface, you coax Steve into joining you. He leans against the side with you between his knees, back settling into its home against his chest, his chin resting atop your head.

Steve runs his hands over your shoulders, presses kisses into your hair. All along he’s reminding himself that the next thing will go right. He won’t be throwing anything, at least.

The next weekend Steve calls you again. He asks you to be ready in the evening this time, but still keeps things vague other than the fact that you’ll be outside and need thick socks.

You have a pretty good idea of what he has in mind, but he’d called it a ‘redemption date’ over the phone and even though you truly don’t think he has anything to redeem himself for, you don’t want to spoil his plans, so you play along.

He comes to the front door when he picks you up this time, knocking gently as if you hadn’t been waiting for him by the windows.

“Hi, honey,” he drops a quick kiss to your lips, “had to come and approve your outfit. Don’t want you getting cold and stealing my jacket again.”

He’s lying, really. Steve fucking loves draping his own jacket over your shoulders and seeing you pull it tighter around you. When that happens, he braves the cold, but he figures that probably won’t be smart for spending hours outside.

“Aww, but yours is so much warmer than mine,” you pout jokingly.

Steve simply grabs your thickest jacket from a hook by the door and holds it out for you to slip your arms into.

As suspected, he drives you to a skating rink. He chose one a town over from Hawkins, where they have twinkle lights strung above the rink and rainbow Christmas lights lining the boards. Steve smiles when you gasp lightly in delight at the sight of it. The brightness cutting through the already dark night sky.

Steve guides you over to the skate rental booth first, bumping his hip into yours when you attempt to pay for the rentals. “As if. My idea, my wallet.”

“You don’t even let me pay when it’s my idea, either.”

“Well, that’s just chivalry, babe.”

You roll your eyes at him and thank the man behind the booth when he hands you both your skates. As you walk towards the lockers and cubbies set up nearby, you lean up and kiss Steve’s cheek, his light stubble scratching your lips.

“Thank you for this,” you say.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he tells you. “Though I should warn you that I’m not very good at this.”

“What? You, not good at something? Please.”

“No, seriously. I’m like bambi on ice.”

You laugh and shove his shoulder weakly, “Don’t worry. I’m probably even worse.”

Steve grins. So far, so good. This one will be perfect. Well, as perfect as it can be considering his skating skills.

You sit on one of the benches and Steve puts both of your shoes in one of the cubbies. He ties his own skates first before kneeling in front of you to help you with yours. He knows how to tie them, at the very least.

He helps you slip your feet into the skates first, then tightens the laces on one before peering up at you and checking, “Feel okay? Not too tight?”

“It’s good, Steve. I feel like Cinderella.”

“A perfect fit! She must be the one!”

“Dork.”

“That’s prince dork to you.”

Steve finishes up with your skates, squeezing your ankle before setting your foot down and standing back up.

On the ice, neither of you are very graceful. You hold onto the boards most of the time, and Steve stumbles and nearly falls every few strides, but you’re laughing and having fun, so who cares?

So what if you get lapped by multiple people on the rink, including children? So what if you get some side eyes for being too slow or in the way? Neither of you can bring yourselves to be bothered.

Best of all, Steve keeps a hold on your hand the entire time. He literally saves you from falling with his grip on your hand squeezing and pulling you up straight.

However, your hands being clasped also means that, inevitably, when one of you goes down, you both do.

It happens after a decent amount of laps; your toe pick catches on a dip in the ice and it’s all it takes for you to lose your balance. Steve somehow twists himself to catch the brunt of your fall.

He expected that to come with some pain, a couple bruises, maybe. Instead, his wrist twists painfully against the ice as he falls, as if he’d tried to catch himself with it, and he can’t help the hiss of pain that comes out when he lands.

“You okay, honey?” he asks you.

“Of course I am. I landed on you, Stevie. Are you okay?”

He tests his wrist out by flexing it, wiggling his fingers, and he tries to hide it but he winces when he does, a sharp pain shooting up his arm. “M’fine.”

“Bullshit, I saw that wince, Harrington.” You manage to get back up on your feet and hold out a hand for him to grab, “Up, I’m taking you to the ER.”

“No, no. I’m good.”

“Steve.”

“Baby.”

“Come on, you don’t want to make it worse, do you?” you urge him. “Plus, I’ll only keep worrying and bugging you about it until you let me take you to the doctor. Your wrist is already swelling, babe.”

Mostly because he doesn’t like the thought of you worrying about him, Steve agrees.

When both of your skates are off (your doing, this time) and given back to the booth, you reach into Steve’s coat pocket and grab the keys to the BMW. He doesn’t protest, and that alone tells you he must be hurting more than he’s letting on. You even manage to open your own door for once.

Steve’s quiet on the drive to the hospital, his hand resting limply on his leg. His brows are furrowed, his eyes squeezing shut every so often when a burst of pain comes. You do your best to avoid any pot holes or bumps along the way.

Once there, you make him sit in one of the waiting room chairs, “I’ll get the check in forms and everything. Stay put, yeah?”

“Your wish is my command,” he says, trying to joke. His voice wobbles a tiny bit, though.

It’s at least an hour of waiting before someone can see him (and that’s including your many pesterings to the front desk). You don’t mean to be a bother, but you’ve never seen Steve injured in any serious capacity, and it’s messing with your head.

He took the weight of that fall to make sure you wouldn’t get hurt. The way he pays attention to things like that is one of the many reasons you love him.

You love him. You haven’t said the words to each other yet, but you’ve felt them for a long time already. It’s hard not to love Steve Harrington.

Finally, the doctor takes him back, and you follow. After an x-ray and some prodding, he determines that it’s a sprained wrist and that he should keep it wrapped for a few weeks to make sure it heals. They give him a prescription for some mild painkillers, too, for the first couple of days.

You breathe a sigh of relief knowing it isn’t broken, but Steve’s shoulders are still slumped.

He’s in pain, sure, his wrist now wrapped up in a tensor bandage, but really he feels defeated at messing yet another thing up. Third strike.

Steve lets you guide him back to the car and drive back to his place. You’ve decided you’re staying the night to take care of him, and as much as he hates looking weak or feeling useless, he’s glad to have you around.

You dote on him back at home, grabbing an ice pack from the freezer after making sure he’s settled on the couch, throwing a frozen pizza in the oven, bringing him meds and water.

“Honey, it’s just a sprain. Please stop fussing and sit with me.”

His brown eyes shine a little, and you could never say no to him when he looks at you like that.

You sit beside him and he drops his head to your shoulder, your hand coming up to play with the strands at the nape of his neck, scratching his scalp gently. His uninjured hand rests on your thigh and squeezes.

“Best painkiller ever,” he says.

Steve has convinced himself that nothing could possibly go wrong this time around.

His plans for today involve staying at home, just you and him, no outside forces to deal with or avoid. So much less potential for failure. That’s what he thinks, at least.

Steve knows nearly every piece of you, so, obviously he knows you like to bake. You’d made him a cake for his birthday, and every so often you bring him other treats from home. Naturally, that meant that there was no way he was leaving out Christmas baking.

He’d considered doing gingerbread houses, and then remembered that the last time he tried that in a competition with the kids, his house was nothing more than a messy pile of gingerbread slabs. One with a bite taken out of it.

So, considering his past failures this holiday season, he’d settled on something that he thinks — hopes — is really hard to mess up: sugar cookies.

His mother’s collection of cookbooks had never been used for more than decoration until now. Steve searched through them until he found a recipe, wrote down the ingredients, and bought them at the grocery store to make sure he had everything.

In school, he never did much studying, but he reread the hell out of that recipe in order to get at least this one thing right.

The tensor bandage is still wrapped around his wrist, which is fucking annoying, really. He has to adjust it every day, and it’s hard to do with a single hand. He much prefers when you do it for him, sealing it with a featherlight kiss.

Worse, the thing still hurts, and you refused to let him drive and put more strain on it than necessary, so you took the bus and walked the rest of the way to his house.

He’s got all of the ingredients and tools laid out on the island when you ring the doorbell. “Hurry up, Harrington, it’s freezing!”

Hurry he does. He lets you in and helps you unwrap yourself from your bundle of a scarf and hat and mittens and jacket. Steve dips in to kiss your cheek, your skin cold against his lips. “Wouldn’t have to freeze if you let me come get you.”

“I don’t want you hurting yourself for no reason, I’m fine,” you grab his uninjured hand and kiss the pads of his fingers, “and I like these hands.”

He smiles at your words, smug, “Yeah, I know you do, honey.”

You shake your head at him, but you’re smiling all the same, “I take it back. Your ego is getting too big.”

“Nooo, it’s just the right size,” he winks.

“Don’t you have plans, Steve?” you ask, changing the subject. “Getting a little off track, aren’t we?”

“Later, then,” he says, taking your hand with his good one and leading you to the kitchen.

You pause at the entryway of the kitchen, scanning over the things on the island, two aprons Steve must’ve dug up from somewhere hanging from the knobs of the cabinets.

“Tada,” he says, “we’re making cookies.”

“This might be my favourite one yet, Stevie.” You walk over and grab one of the aprons, leaving the other (a pink floral number) for Steve. “I’m in charge, though.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he says, taking the other apron without a complaint. “This is your kitchen today, chef.”

“Mm. That has a nice ring to it.”

“Chef honey,” he says, planting a kiss where your neck meets your shoulder, breath warm even through your shirt.

You get started after that. Predictably, you make a mess with flour on the island and mixing bowls strewn about the surface. You get distracted with a bit of a flour war somewhere in there, Steve smudging it onto your cheek, you onto the tip of his nose.

When it’s time to roll out the dough and cut out the cookies, Steve grabs a handful of cookie cutters from one of the drawers, setting them onto the counter with a small clang. They’re all holiday themed. Candy canes and snowmen and Christmas trees.

“Someone’s prepared,” you say, bumping your hip against his.

“I run a serious establishment here, baby.”

“I thought I was in charge.”

Soon enough, after sneaking bites of raw cookie dough and cutting out as many cookies as you could manage, they’re placed into the oven, the timer set.

You end up in the living room, a random channel playing on the TV while the cookies bake. It starts innocently enough, just sitting next to each other, shoulders and thighs pressed together.

Then, Steve’s good hand wanders, starting above your knee and moving up and up until he’s squeezing the top of your thigh, tracing patterns with his thumb. When he speaks a husky, “Come closer?” how could you ever say no?

So, somehow, you’ve ended up straddling Steve’s lap, his injured hand resting loosely on your waist, the other pressed in between your shoulder blades to keep you close. Yours are in his hair, running through the strands, tugging even.

It grows heated fast, and all of a sudden you’re making out like a pair of teenagers, Steve urging you to press further down in his lap, to writhe there while his mouth works yours until it’s all you can think about. All you can feel.

The room feels warmer, Steve’s jeans tighter over his lap, your chest bumping against his, hearts racing. Even just kissing him feels better than anything you’ve ever had in the past.

He kisses you like he’s starved everytime, sometimes a ravenous hunger, like now, or, when he’s gentler, something tender and soft. A sweet tooth.

The cookies are long forgotten. The timer sounds and nobody hears it. You would keep going forever, if you could. But then there’s the smell that hits your nostrils. The smell of something burning.

“Steve?” you say against his mouth.

“Uh-huh?” he breathes.

“Do you smell that?”

He pulls back, and it’s immediately after you say the words that the alarm goes off, piercing through the air, killing the mood, much to your dismay. Even more to Steve’s.

“Fuck,” he groans.

You’re both rushing to the kitchen then. You, fumbling off his lap, him beating you to the kitchen and frantically taking the baking sheet out of the oven and turning the thing off. You grab a towel from the counter and start fanning beneath the alarm to get it to go off, and when the cookies are dealt with, Steve joins the efforts.

Eventually the thing stops beeping, and you both rest your arms. The room still looks a little cloudy, the cookies black at the edges.

Steve doesn’t say anything, only rests his elbows on the island and slumps his head, defeated.

He’s so frustrated with himself. Not for kissing you. No, he could never be mad at that, but at the outcome of his final attempt at a holiday date going south again.

You frown at him, walking over and placing a hand on his back, rubbing gentle circles. “Steve? You okay?”

“I just- I messed it up again.”

“Hey, I’m as much to blame as you are. It takes two to tango, as they say.”

He huffs a weak laugh, picking his head up and twisting to look at you. Your pretty face, eyes nothing but kind. Fuck, he loves you, and he just wanted to show you that. To make Christmas as magical as it's supposed to be.

“I really wanted it to go well, you know?”

You realize then that he’s not only talking about today. That he’s been putting this pressure on himself all month to make plans and something has happened every time. You don’t blame him for that, if anything, it makes your heart ache with adoration.

“Steve, it doesn’t matter to me. Things happen, it’s okay,” you kiss his bicep lightly. “I’d rather things go a bit wrong with you than to have them go right with someone else. You are the best part.”

“I-” love you, he almost says. But he doesn’t want the first time to be like this, in a room that still stinks. “You’re the best part for me too, honey.”

You decide that next time, it’s your turn to do something for him.

Steve comes home from work on Christmas Eve, eyes tired and feet hurting despite having worn relatively comfortable shoes today.

He’d tried to get the day off, tried to be able to spend it with you in bed for hours and hours and not getting up until the afternoon. Keith had other plans for him.

He even tried to dramatize his wrist injury. Still, he was forced to go in.

Walking up the driveway, Steve sees the glow of lights inside filtering through the curtains. He’s fairly certain he hadn’t left any on, but he also knows he’s often wrong about these things, so he shrugs it off and goes inside.

There’s noise coming from the living room. Crackling of the fireplace that he barely ever uses, music playing quietly, and then he hears you humming along.

“Honey?”

“Yup, it’s me!”

You know where the spare key is, Steve’s the one who told you the information and encouraged you to use it, but you’ve often been too nervous to do so. Not today, it seems.

While Steve was at work, you’d set up your plan for him.

He follows the sound of your voice without much of a thought, a moth drawn to a flame. When he turns into the living room, he stills.

There are strings of warm white Christmas lights hung about, the fireplace is actually housing a fire, and in front of it is a fort made up of red and green and white blankets and pillows. Some plaid, some with snowflakes, all Christmas themed.

“Did you do all of this?” he asks, walking slowly to where you stand by the fort.

“Figured it was my turn to organize a date, don’t you think?”

“Baby. This is all really sweet, but wha-”

You cut him off, “Uh-uh. Let me explain.” You reach for Steve’s hands, and he meets you in the middle willingly. Suddenly nervous, you shift your weight on your feet. “I thought we could do presents a little early.”

His brows scrunch, “But Christmas is tomorrow.”

“Please?” you ask, squeezing his hands once.

And, really, Steve would never say no to you. Especially not when you’re saying ‘please’ all sweet and delicate like that.

“Okay,” he says. “Yours is in my room. I’ll go grab it. And change; I smell like Family Video.”

“‘Kay, Stevie.”

You kiss his cheek before he goes for good measure.

Steve is confused the entire time, wondering what it could be that you’re up to, but he does as he said he would. You’d been wearing a set of pyjamas (one he loves on you; a soft baby blue pair of shorts with a matching sweater), so he goes for one of his pairs of plaid pants and a plain t shirt before grabbing your messily wrapped gift bag from where he’d hidden it under his bed.

Back in the living room, he finds you now settled on the ground of the fort, which you’d lined with fuzzy blankets and the biggest of the pillows. His gift is sat beside you, a gift box wrapped in a lovely bow. Your skills of wrapping bouquets are transferable, he’s learned.

He joins you, sitting across from you, but close enough that your legs tangle and knees bump.

“You go first,” you tell him.

“Okay,” he scratches the back of his neck, handing you the gift bag. “Let me explain it before you say anything.”

That grabs your attention, but your plans aren’t about his present to you, really, and you know you’ll love it no matter what because Steve knows you better than anyone.

You lift out tissue paper first, uncovering multiple different things inside the bag, also wrapped. It pieces together as you go. A toothbrush, toothpaste, a hairbrush, your entire skincare routine, a couple of pyjama and underwear sets.

“It’s so you don’t have to bring an overnight bag every time you stay over now. I, um, cleared out a couple of drawers in my dresser and the bathroom.”

“Steve,” you look at him, heart squeezing. It’s so thoughtful, so him, and you surge forward you wrap your arms around his neck and breathe into his skin, “I love it. Thank you. It’s perfect.”

Perfect.

“You really think so?”

“Of course I do,” you sit back into your spot. “You know I hate carrying things.”

“I never let you carry anything, honey.”

“Exactly,” you nod. Now, you hold out his gift for him to take, “Your turn.”

You watch Steve’s hands as he tugs the bow undone, then lifts the lid of the box.

Nestled inside are four delicate ornaments. A Christmas tree, a snowman, an ice skate, and a plate of cookies. One for every date he’d planned for you.

Steve frowns at them, not because he doesn’t like them, but because he doesn’t quite understand where you’re going with this.

“I thought it was time we started collecting our own ornaments. For our place, one day,” you tell him.

“They’re lovely, but honey you- you really wanna remember these things?“ he shakes his head, more at himself than you. “I messed ‘em all up.”

“There’s one more thing in there,” you say quietly.

The thing you're nervous about. A thing you’ve never said out loud before.

Steve finds it beneath one of the ornaments, a small piece of paper folded up. When he opens that, his heart stutters in his chest. Written in your handwriting are three words: I love you.

He blinks away from the paper to look at you, though his thumb continues to trace the words absentmindedly. “Honey-”

“I love you, Steve. Okay?” You shift closer, kneeling at his side, your hands coming up to frame his jaw, your fingers kind against his skin. “I don’t care that things didn’t go how you planned. I mean, I would rather you didn’t require an ER visit, but the point is that I don’t need things to be perfect. And I know you’ve been hard on yourself trying to make them so.”

He lets go of the paper and reaches up to grasp your wrists, his thumb finding your racing pulse. His uninjured hand holds on tighter than the other.

“Thank you for trying for me,” you continue, “for caring. But no matter what happens, things are perfect for me. Because I get to do them with you. Got that, Harrington? You’re perfect, and I love you, and-”

He shuts you up with a kiss. It’s a simple but firm press of his lips against yours, but it says enough.

“I fucking love you too, honey,” he says, his forehead against yours, lips only a breath apart. “You saying all of that it means — you mean a lot to me.”

“Yeah, well, I meant it.”

“I know you did,” he nods. Steve pulls back the tiniest bit to be able to see your face fully, his sweet brown eyes locked on yours. “I wanted our first Christmas to be perfect, and I didn’t wanna let you down, but you’re right. They were perfect, because you’re here. And I love you for bein’ here.”

“As long as you’ll have me,” you say. You push his hair off his forehead before letting go of his face and sitting back, “Why don’t you give those ornaments a try?”

“On those trees?” he asks, eyebrows lifted, voice joking.

“Steve.”

”Okay, okay.”

He picks up the skate first. Surprising, considering that one had ended in a physical injury for him, but you say nothing and watch him walk over to your little trees by the window. You join him, sitting on the arm of the couch nearby while he scans over the tree.

“Pick a spot, handsome,” you encourage. “There’s really no wrong answer here.”

He goes to hang the first ornament, hand wavering before setting on a branch.

“Well, maybe not-” Steve tackles you onto the couch before you can finish. You dissolve into giggles as he pokes at your ribs, his head on your chest.

Steve’s done keeping score.

Perfect Christmas. That’s it.

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