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nickfowlerrr · 5 months

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it’s a love story, baby, just say yes.

pairing: neighbor!bucky x curvy!reader

warnings: not the conclusion i was hoping for but that just means there’s more of these two to come. this feels like such a tease of a chapter lol i’m sorry. no smut. a lil tinny tiny bit of angst from reader’s perspective. mostly cute idiots in love. if something needs to be tagged please let me know.

words: 3.2k

notes: is the title a little on the nose? yes, yes it is. and it took me forever to land on. 💀 there will be more, i promise. sorry for the wait. thank you for reading, i hope you enjoy this little update. 🫶🏻 also also! happy birthday again to the anon who messaged me about this next part. hope your day was wonderful ✨💗

series masterlist / character outfit inspo

Breathe.

In.

Out.

Easy.

Just like that.

You can’t stop looking in the mirror.

You look…you look…god. You look terrified.

Fuck.

This was a bad decision. A really bad decision.

What the hell were you thinking?

What the hell was he thinking?

God, you feel like you can’t breathe again.

Focus.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

You smooth your skirt, pulling it once again for no reason. None other than habit, you suppose.

You look over yourself. Not awful, you think. You’re wearing your staple black long sleeve top with your high waisted houndstooth skirt. It’s cold outside, so you’re in your black thigh high boots. The ones that took you ages to find but have been your favorite since coming across them. You swear this pair was made in heaven because it felt like a miracle finding ones that actually fit your legs properly. You’ve accessorized with your trusty belt and your favorite jewelry and your hair somehow looks the best it has in days. Makeup is flawless and though you try to find something to fix…you just can’t.

And still, there’s that gnawing feeling telling you that you’re doing something wrong - that you are wrong.

You don’t know why you’re being so down on yourself today, but it seems like you’ve poked at each and every insecurity you’ve ever had in the past hour alone.

Maybe some part of your mind thinks it’ll convince you to not go through with this if you feel badly enough. Too bad you don’t really have the option of chickening out.

You sigh and finally look away from the mirror, instead reaching for your bottle of perfume and spraying yourself lightly with the lovely scent.

You smile a bit as you set the bottle back down in its spot.

You remember the first time you wore it. It was the day after your birthday - you had gotten it for yourself as a gift. You went over to Bucky's for your weekly movie watch and when you walked by him as he held his front door open for you, he seemed immediately taken. He was all over you as he followed you in close behind.

You had jerked away when he leaned in to smell you, giving him a look of incredulity.

“Creep,” you groused.

“Sorry,” he laughed, “but you smell incredible,” he complimented, leaning into you again. “Is that new?”

“It is, yeah. Smells good, right?” you smiled, loving your choice even more.

“Like heaven,” he simpered.

You knew he loved this perfume, but that is not why you are wearing it tonight, you tell yourself. That is simply a coincidence. It may be his favorite, but it was your favorite first.

You double check your phone, despite it having not gone off at all in the past two hours, just to ensure you weren’t missing any messages…particularly one that would read something along the lines of “Sorry to cancel so last minute but…”.

Of course, you find nothing.

Checking the time, you have fifteen minutes til seven.

Fifteen was plenty of time to get yourself to finally calm the hell down a bit.

You can do this.

It’ll be…what it is.

And no matter what it is, it’ll be.

You breathe a deep breath.

…Maybe you still have time to cancel…

A knock on your front door startles you and you leave your room to stand in your hallway, eyeing the door as if you’re expecting it to burst open despite the gentleness of the sound.

Nothing.

Then another knock.

You brace yourself, swallowing thickly as you approach the door.

Of course you know who it is.

Impending doom.

No! Stop with the negativity, you chastise yourself.

Of course he’d be early. If you weren’t so caught up in your head, you’d roll your eyes at his punctuality. You shouldn’t have expected anything less.

“Early is on time, on time is late.” You can hear him saying it now.

You get to the door and unlock the bolts one at a time, as slowly as you can, trying to drag out the inevitable as you focus on your breathing.

You grab hold of the knob, and once again remind yourself to get your shit together. The door slowly creaks open as you pull on it heavily and when you finally chance at glance at the man at your door, you find Bucky’s eyes on you. His lips part ever so slightly as he takes you in before his gaze comes back up to meet yours.

He titters, the corner of his lips coming up in a half smirk as he breathes a sigh of relief.

“You answered,” he says.

“Yeah,” you blink dumbly at his words, “why wouldn’t I have?”

“I don’t know, you’ve been avoiding me all week,” he accuses. “I was honestly a little worried you were gonna cancel on me.”

You look down, a little embarrassed at being called out. But he was right, you had been avoiding him.

Well not him. It wasn’t him. It was just the nerves. You weren’t sure you’d be able to talk to him, let alone look at him without somehow screwing everything up all too quickly.

Anytime you caught even just a glimpse of him in the hallway or heard what could have been him coming or going as you were, you would make yourself scarce as soon as possible. Even when you clearly saw one another, eye contact established and everything, you’d be gone before he could get a word out in your direction. The last time you spoke with him face to face was New Year’s Eve.

The breathy “yes,” that left your lips still shocked you when you thought back on it. Which you had often this past week. Replaying the way Bucky’s face lit up at your answer, how happy he looked… before you quickly turned tail and rushed your “good night”; hurrying back to your apartment and leaving Bucky standing there in a bit of a stupor, huffing a laugh out his nose as he watched you flee, but his half smile never breaking as he called a good night after you.

Bucky has tried to talk to you since then, of course, but you just kept evading him. If he really wanted or needed to get to you, truthfully, he could have - but he didn’t want to overwhelm you. And a part of him was worried about the two very same things you were, just from his side.

Part of you was afraid you’d just flounder and end up outright canceling and the other part was scared you’d lose all self control and end up kissing him again. Not that that sounded like the worst thing in the world…But still, you kept your distance while you could.

“These are for you, gorgeous,” he continues before you can say anything in response. You only then notice the bouquet of flowers he holds in his hand.

They’re gorgeous. Nicer than the ones he had on Valentine’s day, and even nicer than the bouquet you had been gifted from your coworker that day, too.

“Wow,” is all you can utter as you take them from him. “Thank you,” your voice is quiet as your surprise at the gesture overwhelms you.

You’ve never been given flowers this nice before. And you definitely weren’t expecting it.

“They’re so pretty,” you say, eyes flitting up to see his enamored gaze on you before you look back down to the flowers.

“Just like you,” he says, stepping closer to you in the doorway. “You look stunning.”

You smile, albeit a bit stiffly, at the compliment, offering another ‘thank you’.

Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire at his words and you bite your lip as you turn from him to head to the kitchen.

A second passes and you turn back to see him still standing in the doorway, not following you.

You raise a brow, “What are you a vampire?” you ask sarcastically. “Come in,” you instruct with a laugh.

“Didn’t want to be presumptuous,” he says, finally coming inside, closing the door gently behind him.

“Yeah? Since when?”

He smirks again then, following you to the kitchen as you search out your vase.

“I’m being a gentleman,” he states.

You eye him, scoffing before turning back to readying the bouquet for the water.

“What’s funny?” he questions, faux offense in his voice.

“You,” you shake your head, fighting your smile. “...You look nice, by the way,” you compliment after a second of fighting your nerves.

“Thanks, doll.”

You jump as his voice comes from right beside you, his stealth surprising you.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he laughs, admiring your handiwork as you arrange the flowers just right.

You turn into him, taking a breath as you really look at him again. The blue of his eyes stand out even more with the depth of his black sweater under his dark wool overcoat. The outfit fits him well, you absentmindedly admire. He really does look nice.

God, he always does.

You breathe in his dark, woody cologne in your proximity and your knees threaten to go wobbly as you do.

Is this really real?

“You ready?” he asks. You flit the thoughts away and meet his eye, nodding in response before you look at his arm as he offers it to you.

You meet his eye once more before taking it and he leads you to the front door, but not before you grab a coat of your own.

Breathe, you remind yourself.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Easy.

—

Walking up to the doors of the restaurant side by side with Bucky, you feel that contentment you only ever feel when he’s around.

The cab ride was nice, the sound of the rain falling outside lulling you unthinkingly into Bucky’s side as you looked out the window, street lights and headlights flashing by - people with umbrellas still walking along the city streets.

You smiled as you felt Bucky’s warmth radiating from him, the slow alternative music flowing through the speakers making everything feel that much more intimate. You’ve spent plenty of time with Bucky, you’ve sat this close to him before, but this still felt different. The date hadn’t even really begun and you could end the night right here and now and still be happy.

Man, was that pathetic?

You started to feel the worry building up inside you again, but then you felt Bucky’s arm come around your shoulders, holding you to him. You instantly relaxed into him, but didn’t turn your head to meet his gaze.

What had you been so concerned about to begin with? It’s not like you were or ever had been forcing yourself or your presence on the man. Bucky asked you on this date. He kissed you first. And even before the party, he always invited you over to his place, and would somehow always manage to convince you to stay just a little bit longer - no matter how long you’d been there. It was clear he liked being around you. All the signs of reciprocated feelings were there. And yet for some reason, you still found it hard to believe.

You felt like you were in a dream.

Bucky guides you up the short steps leading up to the entrance of the establishment, his hand on your back as you take careful steps in your heeled boots on the slippery steps as the rain continues beating down on and all around you. Your left hand is in his metal one as you hold onto it for balance.

Ever the gentleman, he opens the door for you to enter before he gives his name to the host at the front of the restaurant.

“Sergeant Barnes, it’s an honor. Please, follow me this way, your table is all ready,” the young man smiles before he walks you and Bucky to the back, to a closed off area of the restaurant. You look around, a bit confused, but not at all upset at the privacy.

There is a table set for two in the dimmed dining area, a small lit candle on the table along with more flowers. Your heart is threatening to beat out of your chest as you take it all in.

Your seat is pulled out for you by Bucky before he helps you out of your coat, and once you’re sat, he effortlessly pushes your seat back closer to the table before he removes his own coat and takes his seat across from you.

Your host shows you the menus briefly and takes your drink orders before he takes his leave, letting you know your waiter will be by soon to get drinks started.

It’s not a five star restaurant, more like a quaint, family owned eatery, but it feels even more intimate here. And with only you and Bucky back here, you really feel like you’re in your own little world. It’s nice.

It’s more than nice, actually.

It’s damn near perfect.

Bucky smiles at you as he notices you looking at him.

You hadn’t even realized you were, but you don’t look away despite being caught.

“I’m impressed, Barnes,” you offer with a small smile. “I was expecting…well,” you huff a laugh, “I don’t know what I was expecting, but this is still somehow exceeding all expectations.”

“Good,” he smiles. “I know you hate fancy food so I thought this place would be perfect. Mom and Pop’s kinda dinner.” His voice doesn’t sound it, but from the way he breaks eye contact as he over explains himself, you know he wasn’t entirely sure about his decision to come here over somewhere else.

“I do hate fancy food,” you nod. “This was a good choice.” You pick up your menu and look it over, giving some thought to what sounds appetizing. “What are you getting?” you ask without looking up. You know Bucky isn’t looking at the menu because you can feel his stare on you.

“Sirloin,” he says without hesitation, “and you?”

“Mmm. I’m thinking burger.”

“Classic,” he supports.

You titter, setting the menu down after deciding on what you’d be ordering.

Your eyes meet Bucky’s and after a second you give him a nervous smile.

“So…” you begin.

“So,” he echos.

Before you can start to speak again, you see your waiter coming into the private area, walking toward the table, a tray in hand.

You thank him as he sets down the glasses and a basket of warm bread on your table before Bucky gives him your orders.

When you’re all alone again, you copy Bucky as he takes and butters a roll, using the other half of his butter packet so you don’t have to open another one. You tear your roll apart, eating it in pieces as opposed to Bucky who squishes it down and bites into it like it’s a biscuit, amusing you. It’s fresh, so warm, and so fluffy.

“This is so good,” you rave.

“It’s bread and butter, it’s impossible for it not to be,” he smiles.

You point a manicured finger at him as you chew on your next piece, “You got me there.”

He sets his roll down on the plate as he licks his teeth, eyes trained on you as he does. You try to ignore it as he tilts his head while staring at you. It feels like he’s trying to read your mind.

“So…” he repeats your earlier sentiment, “were you going somewhere with that before?”

You kiss your lips, your eyes flicking up to his. You take a breath, measuring your words.

“Yeah. Uhm,” you think a moment longer. “I’ve just been wondering, how long?”

His brows furrow in an unspoken question but he doesn’t get the chance to ask before you elaborate.

“You said you’ve been wanting to do this for months, I just - I’m curious how long exactly you’ve been waiting.”

He knows his answer, but he also knows you won’t believe him if he tells you. Since the very first month you met, he’s been wanting to do this. But he won’t say that. Not right now, anyway.

“A while,” he settles on. “A very long while.”

He holds your eye as he answers you and you know he means it.

You nod, pursing your lips to keep your smile from completely breaking across your face. “A while…” you muse. “What took you so long?”

“I didn’t wanna scare you away,” he says truthfully.

The look in his eye is so intense and earnest, you have to remind yourself to breathe.

“...You wouldn’t have,” you tell him, your voice quiet, not far off from a whisper.

He can’t help his smirk, “I don’t think that’s true,” he scrutinizes you.

You make a face, a cross between a scowl and fighting a pout. But you know he’s right. God, he has a habit of calling you out every time you need to be.

“Yeah, okay,” you begrudgingly agree while he relishes in your pouty acceptance.

It took all of your heart’s strength to agree to a date tonight, even after all the time you’ve spent with him, how real you know your feelings to be - whether or not you wanted to play them off as silly daydreams or not - all of this and you really almost did run away scared without giving him an answer that night. You know you would’ve said no in a heartbeat had it been when you first started getting to know one another. You’ve never been one to risk it, you wouldn’t have then, either.

But sitting across from Bucky here and now, you’re glad you took the chance.

“I guess it’s true what they say…Timing is everything.”

He nods, “And lucky for us, I’m a very patient man.”

You smile, with a quirked brow, “Lucky indeed.” He laughs, his grin full of nothing but admiration and contentment as he leans closer to you across the table. You hadn’t even realized you’d been doing the same, your elbows on the table as you unconsciously wanted to get closer than you already were. Your knees brush, but neither of you move away. In fact, Bucky scoots his chair in closer. Your tongue slips past your lips so quickly you don’t even register it as you wet your lips. You grab your glass, raising it before you and he does the same with his own.

“To my luck?” he asks, lips still curved in his perfect smile.

“And to your patience,” you add, your own soft smile gracing your face as you look into his brilliant blue gaze, hoping he can see the thankfulness you feel for him there.

“To your yes.”

“To the first first date ever that I haven’t wanted to run out on,” you joke.

You lightly clink your glasses, both of you sipping from your drink.

He shrugs as you take another drink from your glass, “Though, the night is young,” he muses.

You sputter on the liquid as you laugh into your glass, earning a similar laugh from Bucky.

You smile through your cough as you look at him again, wiping at the liquid on your chin. His gaze as warm and mirthful as ever.

Yeah, you think. He’s worth the risk.

#bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x reader #neighbor!bucky x reader #neighbor!bucky x curvy!reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x plus size reader #ciwywt #bucky x reader #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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bountycancelled · 7 months

Text

LOST CAUSE

bada x reader (part 1)

MASTERLIST | NEXT

warnings: none really, it's just kinda sad

content: petnames (only one is used in reference to reader, but a few are mentioned) alcohol mentions (reader drinks away her feels) sad gays and bad gays, unedited becusse I'm lazy, a whole lotta projecting myself onto reader

being bada's best friend would be the death of you, you were calling it right now.

she wasn't a bad friend by any means, quite the opposite actually. from the late night talks that would last until the early mornings before you both passed out, the tiny, sentimental gifts she would randomly get for you without expecting anything in return, to the way she would hold you, god, she was perfect. you loved everything about her.

but, that was the problem, wasn't it? you loved her. and a part of you wants to blame her for making it so easy, falling for her, but you know that would be unfair. not only because she wasn't leading you on or anything, but also because she couldn't do any wrong in your eyes.

everytime your heart fluttered at one of her actions, it would sink just as quickly. she's doing this as a friend, you would always remind yourself. but your not so friendly reminders didn't stop you from hoping. for something more, that one day, miracously, bada would realise that she was in lo–

"what's got you so worried?" you were pulled out of your daily dose of dramatic reality checking by none other than bada. her head was in your lap, she stared up at you with a look that you could only describe as... content. comfortable. and so, so beautiful.

"huh?" you answered, having not heard her clearly, too busy being in your head instead of in the real world, where unfortunately, you belonged.

she raised her arm and pressed on the space between your eyebrows, a small pout on her face. "you're frowning. what's wrong, pretty?"

the nicknames. the fucking. nicknames.

pretty, gorgeous, baby, love, honey. it was things like that made you believe, even if just for a moment, that she knew that you liked her, loved her, and was just toying with you for enjoyment.

you'd feel guilty everytime you had that thought. she wouldn't. not to you, not to anyone, not ever.

"it's nothing, really. I'm just in a mood today." you shrugged, hoping that she would, for your sake, take your half-hearted explanation and leave it there.

she nodded, clearly unconvinced, but moved one nonetheless. "do you still wanna go to the club tonight? we can cancel and spend the night together instead." she offered, lifting her head off of your lap in favour of placing it on your shoulder, waiting for your answer.

"no, we can still go, we'll just come back here together. we've blown off our friends enough times, I'm starting to feel bad." you joked, and once again, the atmosphere was light and airy. with that settled, you both stood up, trying to find something to wear for the nights activities.

you walked into her closet, sprinkled with tops and skirts from your own, almost laughing at the absurdity of the situation. for someone who claimed that being around bada was painful, your personal stamp on her home sure made it hard to believe.

"how's this?" you said for what felt like the 29th time to bada (it was only the third) as you spun around for her, showing off one of your options for the night.

she sat at the edge of the bed, ready to go about 20 minutes before you, as she usually was. her head was tilted back, staring at the ceiling as she waited patiently for you to finally choose something to wear.

you tried not to stare at her neck, which she made easier for you by finally looking at you, tilting her head to the side as she inspected your outfit.

"I was gonna say its looks as good as the other two because you look amazing in anything and everything, but... I like this one. a lot."

the way she looked at you when she said that, with her bottom lip between her teeth, stayed with you as you walked to the club together, hand in hand. did she really have no idea how much she affected you? you weren't sure if you hoped that she didn't, or did.

but you weren't going to think of that tonight. you were going to drink, and dance, and hang out with your friends, and not let bada affect you. if only for just one night.

okay, maybe you had had one too many drinks by now, but you weren't drunk just yet. it was still the normal you, just with a few tweaks. a little less shame here, a little more confidence here, nothing too major.

you were half in minah's lap and half in tatters, singing obnoxiously, almost as loud as the song blasting from the speakers. you weren't even thinking of bada... wait, where the hell was bada?

you squinted your eyes as they darted across the dance floor, hopelessly trying to locate her in the dim lighting of the club. but you didn't have to look for long, because she was headed back to your table, a smile painted on her face.

you stood up, suprisingly not stumbling as you walked up to her, wrapping your arms around her shoulders. "where were you?" you shouted over the music, wearing a curious expression.

she bit her lip excitedly before speaking into your ear, sending involuntary shivers down your spine. damn you and your natural charm, bada.

"I met a girl." you didn't mean for your face to drop in the way that it did, but from the looks of it, bada didn't even notice. if she did, then she didn't mention it.

"she actually wants to come over to my place..." bada trailed off, sending you a pleading look, a certain lust-driven glee shining in her eyes.

"oh." you said flatly before you could stop yourself, moving your arms away from her and crossing them over your chest.

she quickly wrapped her arms around your middle, squeezing while pleading her case in an effort to soften the blow. it doesn't help, not one bit.

"I know we were supposed to have a binging marathon, but please baby? just this once? I'll make it up to you real good, you know I always do." 'because I always let you.' you wanted to add, but you bit your tongue, you weren't feining for a fight with bada right about now.

you sigh, your arms hanging limply by your sides. "okay. I'll just crash at lushers'." you fight the urge to gag as she squeals in excitement, at the prospect of spending the night with someone who isn't you.

she gave you a curious look, most likely sensing your jealousy apprehension, her arms still around you, feeling more suffocating than comforting at that moment.

"...are you sure?" no. I'm not, don't go with her.

you nodded furiously, removing her arms from your frame, and turning her around, pushing her toward the dance floor where she had left her pursuit for the night. "go, she'll think you're blowing her off if you keep talking to me."

"are you actually, super, one hundred percent certain that I can go with her?" she pushed you further, and you knew that she knew that you weren't really all that okay with it.

but what was the point? you could easily sway her into sticking to the original plan, but she would've spent the whole night daydreaming about what could've been with the mysterious girl at the club. you didn't want to deal with that. you were tired of feeling like a second choice.

you wanted her to choose you, because she wanted to choose you. not because you asked her to.

'no, I'm not sure. I don't want you to go with her. I want you to choose me for once. choose me.' you screamed in your own mind, but all that could be seen on the outside was you smiling the best you could at bada, nodding once more before walking back to where the rest of your group sat, downing the drink in front of you.

you didn't know if it was even yours, but it didn't matter to you right now.

minah noticed your sudden change in mood, holding your hand in hers in a silent attempt to comfort you. you squeezed it as means of expressing gratitude, you didn't wanna talk about it.

but, you didn't need to. she knew, and if the downright pitiful looks the rest of the group were throwing your way were anything to go by, it seemed that everyone else knew too.

you wanted to leave, so you left. lusher had no problem going home early with you, she could tell that you weren't in a good headspace. you left with lushers arms around you, half to make sure that you didn't stumble, and half to try to make you feel a little better.

you left with a bitter taste in your mouth, and not from the shitty drinks you were downing.

you left without saying goodbye to bada, which you never did. she waved when she saw you by the door, that big smile still evident even in the dark lighting.

you didn't wave back.

a/n: this wasn't planned, and I wrote it in a day, but I hope you guys like it. also, doing a bada series and and a bada smau at the same time isn't my brightest idea, but fuck it, we ball.

#smau #bada lee #bada lee x oc #bada lee x reader #bada x reader #masterlist #bada lee fanfiction #bada #bada lee fluff #bada lee fanfic #bada lee smut #bada lee x y/n #bada smut

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sweetsbfreex · 2 years

Text

𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞

summary: y/n has an event to get to last minute, so steve has to take care of his daughter at work. in the universe of this one shot (read before)

pairings: dad!mafia/gang!steve rogers x wife!reader

warning: none just fluff!

Today has just been a day. You have no excuse except for the fact that it slipped your mind and when your calendar notified you, an hour and a half before the event started your mind began to scramble.

Steve’s parents can’t watch Elysia because they have a date night. They offered to cancel, but you couldn’t ask them to do that. Natasha was out of town. You had even asked the babysitter, but it was too last minute for her. So, there’s one last option.

“Hey doll, you girls alright?” Steve smiles into his phone, happy to hear your voice.

“Hi, baby” you beamed, brushing on highlighter while keeping a careful eye on your daughter. Elysia was chilled out on your bed, entranced in an episode of Paw Patrol.

“Look, I’m really sorry, it slipped my mind, but I have an event to get to in a few. And there’s no one to keep an eye on Elsie. Can I drop her off to you?”

“Yeah, of course. I've been missing her a little extra today anyway.”

You sigh in relief, “I love you, you’re the best” you tell him, sending a kiss through the phone.

It’s at least twenty-five minutes later until your heels are clicking against the lobby’s marble floor. Elysia’s designer baby bag is slung over your shoulder and your two-year-old is sitting on your hip as the two of you walk to Steve’s office.

You knock on the door twice, before you pull it open. As you enter, Steve’s head shoots up, then an affectionate smile graces his face at the sight of his favorite girls.

“Daddy!” Elysia cheers with grabby hands towards her father.

Steve walks over to greet the two of you; kissing Elysia’s cheek and neck, chuckling as she squirms because his facial hair is ‘ticklish’, before he brings her into his hold.

And before you know it, Steve brings his lips down onto yours. All while removing the baby bag from your shoulders. When he pulls away, he’s whistling with ardor as he spins you to give himself a 360 of what’s his.

Your body is flawlessly dressed in a customized cream suit with gold buttons. The coat wraps around you to accentuate your waist and breast, your pants hug your ass perfectly. As the pants flare out as they go down your leg. He loves how the diamond necklace and earrings he bought as one of your push gifts make your eyes twinkle.

Your cheeks heat up at the way he fawns over you. Many years later and you’d never get used to it.

When he stops you, his hand tugs your body to his, “You look..exquisite” he husks, squeezing your hand. “Mommy looks exquisite, doesn't she?” he asks Elysia who responds with an exaggerated nod.

“Look Quiz-it!” she garbles the tough word out

“Thank you, you two. But I have to head out if I want to make it on time.”

“Where are you headed anyway?”

“Maggie is throwing something for her launch,” you answer while fixing a boggle in Lys’ hair that held one of her space buns. “I promised I’d be there. I like this tie, it matches your eyes perfectly”

Your hand runs over the patterned blue tie. You didn’t get to see him this morning, as you usually do. He slipped out before the sun even came out, with just a kiss to your cheek as his ‘see you later’ so he wouldn’t disturb your sleep.

“Thank you. Drive safe and be safe, Joseph will be right behind you.”

You groan. He lavished the trait of overprotectiveness. There was one instance where you had begged and begged to roam free without anyone on your tail. It didn’t end well.

“Non-negotiable, text me when you arrive safely” he reminds you, grasping your chin for a kiss.

“Bye baby, I'll see you soon. Be good” you kiss her before pinching her chubby cheeks.

As the door shuts softly behind you, Steve and Elysia are stood in his expansive offices hands up in a wave. “Looks like it’s just me and you, baby doll, are you hungry?”

“No” she responds.

“Okay, would you mind if daddy worked for a little bit more?”

“It’s okay” she lisps.

Elysia is settled on her father’s lap, Steve’s phone in her tiny hands as she watches ‘The Princess and the Frog’. Occasionally her big eyes roam over the big screens on her father’s desk.

With his little girl present, Steve isn’t able to complete any of his gruesome tasks, just the light stuff with no pictures or videos.

“Daddy?” Elysia calls for him, her head tucked back.

“Babydoll?,” he answers, looking down.

“I’m thirsty, do you ‘ave apple juice?”

“Do I have apple juice? Do I-- are you kidding, how could you ask that.” while he throws his whole spiel, loving the wide smile on her face. His hand discreetly opens the mini fridge under his desk. It’s always packed with what she enjoys. He pulls out a juice box, and presents it to her like a magic trick.

“Yay!” she giggles, clapping her hand in glee before she grasps the juice box in both hands eagerly, in turn dropping her father’s phone to the ground. “Oops” she murmurs at the sound of the clatter.

“It’s alright, just remember to be careful next time” he responds, picking up the newest model.

Some time passes before Elysia grows bored and begins to squirm and whine.

He picks her up, placing each foot on his thigh.

“What’s up, why are you so crabby?,” he coos, running his forefinger down the slope of her warmed up nose while the other hand holds her up by her waist.

“Wanna play” she bounces her legs, pointing behind her.

He sighs, checking his watch: 6:03pm. Under twenty minutes until his meeting. So, they play to her heart's desire. He has a few of her favorite things stashed away so he pulls those out after shrugging off his coat.

Now, he’s sat criss-cross applesauce getting berated by his toddler and thankfully y/n has texted that she’s arrived safely.

“No, daddy! I’m the chef.”

“Okay, okay. Can I order an orange juice and sandwich, please” he orders through the small window of her Little Tikes play kitchen.

“Seven thousand dollars,” she tells him, hand out.

“Prices are a little steep, don't you think?” he jokes, but forgets it’s his two-year-old he’s talking to. “Tough crowd,” he continues, before dropping the fake, blue credit card into her hands.

“Hmm.” she hums while she thinks, “No monies. No food” she tells him this reproachfully, her eyebrows knit together as she drops the card in his hands.

“What?” he gawks, “You’re gonna let daddy starve?”

She sighs before dropping a banana into his palm, “Thank you, babydoll” he smiles, kissing her cheek through the screen as she giggles, her hard chef mask breaking through.

“Daddy, I don’t wanna play any more.”

“Yea? What do you want to do?”

“Stickers! Stickers! Stickers!” she chants to a tune, walking around to her father.

Against his will, Steve is still sitting on the floor and his toddler stands before him. One of her tiny fists holds a sheet of glittery Lisa Frank stickers while the other places them on his face.

“Cat or tiger?” she asks, bending her head down.

“Tiger”

She beams, placing it on the middle of his forehead, then kisses it for good measure.

There’s an incessant buzz in the air. His phone against his presidential, dark wood desk. He goes to it immediately to see it’s a call from Bucky, therefore noticing the time. He’s ten minutes late. Steve Rogers is never late.

“Shit.” he mutters, ignoring the call to begin peeling off the stickers in a haste.

“Bad word, daddy!”

“Sorry, baby, sorry” he responds in a haste, when he’s sure his face is bare. He pockets his phone, shrugs on his coat, grabs his binder, and picks up Elysia as he dashes to the elevator.

“Hi uncle bucky! Hi uncle sam!” Elysia bounces at the sight of her god fathers, waving at the two as she walks by on her father’s hip.

Steve walks in stoically, there was no way in hell he’d let his men enjoy him coming in flustered and out of sorts. Everyone was in attendance, and sat in their respective seats. When he begins to settle down and start the meeting there’s laughter in the air.

“The fu--” he stops himself, taking a deep breath. “Would anyone mind letting me in on what’s so hysterical?”

‘The fuck are you clowns laughing at’ is what he really wanted to say.

“You gotta..” Bucky stops to gather himself, a smirk on his face. “Got a little something there,” he points at his own jaw as a mirror.

Steve sighs, attempting to find the bright, pink, glittery sticker on his face when his little one speaks up, “I’ve got it, daddy” she peels it off easily and places it on her own cheek.

“Thank you, babydoll,” he kisses her hand before taking a seat at the head of the expansive table. Placing her on his lap and passing her a small bag of goldfish with her water bottle. Elys has pinky promised to be on her best behavior and Steve had promised that he’d make sure the meeting wouldn’t go as long as they usually do.

“Okay. As you can see we have a special lady with sensitive ears joining us today. Please keep your language clean and appropriate, however hard that may be.” Steve dictates, taking a glance at every man in this room to not take his words lightly.

The meeting drags on, they don’t have much of a choice to discuss some matters at hand. But these men are smart and know how to improvise…

“Uh, sunshine (Lloyd) was last seen at a recital (strip club) selling kool aid (drugs) to any of the girls that would take it. We assume it’s his way to sabotage the opening by… you know.” Tony flairs his hand around as a jester.

Before Steve is able to respond, a smaller voice gets to it, “Daddy, I love kool-aid. Alot alot alot!”

Steve chuckles at her cuteness.

Throughout the meeting everyone is meant to talk over and ignore the children's songs emitting from Steve’s phone. And the light, cute voice that sings along to some of them.

A pack of goldfish later with half a bottle of Elysia’s water. Steve keeps his promise to keep the meeting short, concise, and kid-friendly. Well-sorta, there was one slip up but Steve was quick to cover Elysia’s precious ears and stare down the incompetent imbecile.

He’s packing his things up, putting his notes and papers in order while his little girl giggles at her uncle Sam’s magic tricks: pulling a silver coin from her ear.

It’s her favorite and will get a laugh from her every time.

In no time, it’s just him and Ly descending via elevator. Steve has decided they both have had a long day, and going home early for once wouldn’t kill him. It was seven in the afternoon anyway, close to her bedtime.

He knows she’s had a long day when one of her small arms is wrapped over his neck as her head is tucked against the side of his neck.

He can’t lie that the thought of sleep sounds good to him. He knows you won’t be home till a little later. But he can’t until you’re home so he can cuddle into you as you both drift off.

“We’ll be home pretty soon,” he kisses her forehead just as the elevator dings!

“Okay,” Steve sighs as he enters through the familiar emerald doors, placing the baby bag onto the coat rack. His dress shoes are toed off with speed and just as quick he pulls off his baby’s shoes.

He sets her down in the living room taking a seat on the couch.

“Daddy, I’m hungry,” she squeaks, walking over to the remote to bring to her father who understands her demand.

“Does a PB and J sound alright?”

“Mmmm” she drones on, her hands rubbing against her clothed stomach.

The sandwich is assembled at her request. Crust off the toasted bread and a little bit of honey drizzled on top of the peanut butter.

Elysia sits on Steve’s lap as she nibbles on her sandwich. Steve is dressed down in just his slacks and wife beater; braiding Elysia’s hair in two as she watches ‘Little Bear’ and eats her sandwich.

He struggles to do so at first, until y/n’s voice swims through his head. Reminding him what he needs to do.

As Lys chews and her father braids, she holds up half her sandwich in offer behind her. He smiles as he takes a small bite, smiling and moaning about how yummy it is and how thankful he is for her sharing. Then he kisses her cheeks, nipping in jest.

Once he’s finished braiding Elysia‘s hair and Elysia is done eating her food. She scrambles up until she’s latching onto her father. Her arms are thrown around his neck while her legs clamber to wrap around him.

Her cuddles are like sleeping sand to the mob boss. He rubs her back as he leans down parallel to the couch, his sock feet hanging off the arm of the couch.

“I love you baby doll. Best thing to happen to me and your momma.” he whispers, placing three kisses to her forehead.

“Love you” she slurs while her soft hand lands onto his cheek.

Without even knowing, his eyes are shut as his breath evens out and his arm circles around his angel’s body to keep her from rolling off of him.

It was a great time. You were happy you got to support Maggie on her big day, but you missed your husband and the rambunctious little girl you were graced to raise.

You remove your heels, hissing as your sore feet hit the hardwood floor. The house is quiet as you toe into the house. You can see the living room light is on. You assume Steve has kept it on for you just as you do for him and it makes your heart sing.

As you walk in, to shut off the warm lamp, your heart really does sing at the picture perfect image: The father-daughter duo are knit together as they step in dream land together.

His brawny arm is wrapped around her body and his mouth is dropped open in a way you think is adorable. It makes the intimidating man everyone else sees morph into the wonderful, sensitive man you’ve married.

They’re still dressed in their day clothes, but nothing could ruin the cuteness overload.

You tiptoe towards the two, leaning over them as your hand runs through Steve’s hair, the other down his free arm.

He startles awake and his grip tightens on Elysia a little bit, but his body relaxes once he sees it’s you and smiles.

“Hey, seems like you two had a good day,” you whisper, your hand running over the braids Elysia adorned, those were not there before.

“We did,” he puckers his lips, and you lean down to peck him. “How was your night, have fun?”

His hoarse voice is like music to your ears.

“It was great. Missed you two a lot though. Thought of you and that sexy tie all night.”

He smirks at your shallow attempt, a glass box if you will.

“Yeah? I’ll finish getting her to bed and then we can discuss my sexy tie.”

“Perfect. Can’t wait,” you giggle warmly, kissing him one more time before you stroll to your shared bedroom.

He watches the way you saunter away, and if it weren’t for his baby in his arms he’d probably tackle you right then and there. But with much restraint he’s up and on his way to Elysia’s bedroom.

if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback <3

5K notes · View notes

mandukkul · 11 months

Text

TEENAGE ANGST — n. rk

synopsis: you’re suppose to spend yet another birthday alone wallowing in teenage angst, but someone steps in and breaks the cycle

tags: non!idol!riki x f!reader, comfort, angst (not too much i think), a bit of fluff, maybe coming of age

warnings: riki doesn’t appear until like 1/3 into the oneshot, NOT PROOFREAD!!! cursing, angst (i think), spelling and grammatical errors (i wrote tbis at 2am and finshed it at 3 leave me alone), lots and lots of mis-capitalisations, tense errors probably, teenage angst 😰 , let me know if there are any more

word count: 4.7k

published: 13 July

authors note: first writing piece on here, my birthday is on september 8th but i wrote this maybe back in may

You think as a teenager, the worst thing that could affect you was teenage angst. but for you, it would probably be the least of your problems. Instead wallowing like every other teenager before you, locked deep into their rooms never to see the sun until they were 20, you decide it’s better to fix your problem with a day out.

you’re going to be better than what the stereotype says. I mean who’s better at swimming in your own self pity than yourself of course. Even if your parents had decided that travelling abroad for months on end as a job was better than staying at home in the giant house they bought to live as a family, or leave a teenager alone instead of bringing her along, you won’t let it bother you like it did the previous years.

Although you couldn’t feel bad, your parents were dreaming big, even if you became merely a side thought in that dream. Any teenager would live blissfully with all the materials you had. It was truly a dream, but a dream can only become reality if you make it.

You’re not going to think so negatively and say that people around you would rather see you burn than to see you happy, even though that’s exactly what you’re saying.

You’re a kid with everything you want, but surrounded by other kids who are and have basically the same as you, only with parents in the picture, you’re at bare minimum on the grand scale of things.

To live your life with no one by your side, unless you count the people who dislike you at school, is harder than you think.

But you’ve lived your life like this far too long to complain, it’s been routine to be left alone. only now, the difference is that your birthday was today.

spending what most would say a precious day, in a house so hollow you’d think it was abandoned isn’t exactly ideal. Being alone could only add to your ever growing list of reasons to angst over. not even you, who seemed accustomed to this trend, would want to be reminded of how alone— lonely— you are.

so to attempt to turn a new leaf, you urge yourself to spend it differently, you told yourself. straying from your normally secretive emo self, you decide that traveling to the next suburb ,since you heard about a new promotion of the manga you liked being released in a cafe in said suburb, was a good way to ignore your ever piling problems of self-destructive tendencies.

but oh how the world is against you, even if it is your birthday.

The bus suddenly needs to take a detour to a different area you’re not too familiar with, then declares that the route must be canceled due to complications leaving you stranded in the middle of butt fuck nowhere. When checking your phone to find where you are, you see that you are not only an hour walk away from your house, but your phone is standing on its last legs with a messily 20%.

To test your limits further, the sky starts to cry the moment you’re just far enough from your house that running back would do more harm than good.

you quickly scope your area, finding that there are no parks in the vicinity to offer mercy from the rain, and the closest shelter is either 20 minutes forward to the bus stop or the array of trees planted along the side wall as decorations.

you way your options, and take the tree closest to you as refuge. you’re glad the area you’ve wandered to is littered with them, even better that they're thick enough to offer some kind of protection.

minutes passed and the rain hasn’t let up, going at the same harsh rate it has been going at for the past 10 minutes. your clothes, so obviously drenched, weighs you down causing your minimal moves to become sluggish (or maybe it’s the premonition of sickness approaching).

the trees hang low with despair, mimicking your very attitude. rain licks your face, and you can’t tell whether your tears finally made its greeting or it’s rain getting into your eyes.

you start to ponder whether running to the back home would be a better idea than your lovely tree, the idea of escaping your rain soaked clothes seeming like a dream as of right now, a dream escaping you the longer you wait.

you test your already bad luck, because god so obviously has a vendetta against you, deciding your next best option was to end your little escapade and head back home in the rain.

Barely ten minutes in, with wet sneakers splashing into deep puddles and your clothes glued to you like second skin, the rain starts to roar, angered by your decision apparently.

your vision can’t help but blur due to the heavy rain clouding your sight, and the hair that stubbornly sticks itself into your forehead and subsequently, your eyes. it’s hazy and you can barely make out the road in front of you, you’re glad the path ahead of you is empty and that you’ve arrived in a more familiar area.

I guess not even you can escape the clutches of teenage angst, slowing your strides and accepting your fate.

you think how stupid and cliche you look walking in the rain with a frown. Your feet dragging, now feeling the effects of almost an hour in the rain, and on your birthday of all days. The only thing to complete your look was loud sad emo music.

stopping in your tracks, letting the rain do what it wants, you begin to think back to what you must’ve done to anger god so much.

you shut your eyes for just a moment, to shield yourself from rain trying to attack your eyes, but the rain suddenly stops, or more accurately, something is blocking the rain from you. you begin to hear the pitter patter of rain against an umbrella and just for a moment, you think god has found pity in your wallow and granted you mercy. When opening your eyes, low and behold, a black umbrella meets your face.

oh and there’s Riki, or what he likes to be called, Niki, standing in front of you, holding the umbrella over your head acting as your current saviour.

so much for God's mercy.

If your day wasn’t already so bad, you’d say that seeing niki would be the worst part of your day. Unfortunately for you though, it was the best.

you and niki have never been on the same page, ever since he ‘accidentally’ bumped into you while you were in an empty hall. you had given him many chances to be nice to you, or atleast apologise, but as days passed from the first meeting, all you’ve received was strange stares you know all too well. When confronting him, all he could do is ignore you and or play dumb. This interaction had left a massive rift between the two of you, and being a not so popular kid in highschool compared to the ‘king of dance’ was not a good look.

“why are you trying to be a main character” is the last voice you want to hear from, especially on this joke of a birthday. you crane your neck slightly, meeting face to face with the face you hate (and hate to say is extremely easy on the eyes). “why are you trying to stop my main character moment” you shoot back with equally as much snark, but it comes off weak as you underestimated the sound of rain.

Niki looks down at you with the same glint in his eye you dislike, not because it was a judgmental one, but one of mystery because you can never guess what he’s thinking. “sorry sorry, should i let you get back to that” he removes the umbrella from above you but you make no attempt to stop him.

the rain embraces you once again, as harsh it was moments ago. you state a niki again, his dry figure under the comfort of his darken umbrella, staring at you who seemed to be physically separated from him.

talk about rift.

you’ve never noticed how far you were from niki, in a metaphorical sense. Niki had everything you had, and more. He had people to talk to, hang out with, care about and care for. He too, probably went through his fair share of teenage angst, but you think to yourself that this is the first (and only) win.

he sees this and halts his movement, examining your figure deeply. you seem tired. along with the wet suit you’re wearing, and unruly hair dripping at its tips, you look far different to how you present yourself at school. nonchalant and cool, an enigmatic girl who seems to always be out of everyone’s business but as of now, you look (in the nicest way possible) like a train wreck.

“Are you taking joy out of watching me wallow?” you scoff, staring at him with a distasteful eye, “i’m not a sadist” he jokes but he’s the only one who’s smiling.

he coughs to clear his throat, or maybe the awkward atmosphere, you’re too tired to care. you watch as he moves the umbrella back under you, “why are you standing in the rain anyways?” he questions.

“m trying to get home” you whisper loud enough to beat the rain, looking at Niki who’s features seem to fuzz up the more you blink.

“don’t you live 3 streets away?” he adds, you only nodding in response.

your movements are suddenly too sluggish to call lazy, the effects of an hour in the rain finally hitting you.

“aren’t your parents worried?”

probably

“my parents are overseas,” you mumble as he nods knowingly, having his fair shares of travelling parents, although he has his sisters to accompany him, “and i don’t feel like spending my day alone”

birthday

you think how this is the first real conversation you’ve had with niki, ever since your first encounter. Normally you’d stray away from him, so much as look in your direction, you’re off to avoid further conflict and instead plan a faux argument comeback for if the day ever arrives.

you rub your eye to rid the haze that had gotten worse, along with the bodily ache and pounding head.

niki notices, he always notices you. seeing you off in your own world from a distance.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his tone laced with concern, or at least that's what you think. He moves his hand to wipe some hair out of your face, attempting to help with your irritable eyes.

Despite the cold weather, you’re hot to the touch.

“oh shit, you’re burning up” he goes into mother mode as he touches your forehead, seeing as that’s what his sister and mother do when he has his own fever. you mumble an incoherent response, you’re not sure what you said either.

“I should get home then” you mumble, stepping away from safety and into the rain. He goes to stop you, but the moment you move you’re in shambles, collapsing into his arms like some damsel in distress.

oh fuck

…

sometimes you think to yourself, what did you do to end up here? and when i mean here, i don’t mean the literal sense, i mean the place you are in life, because for you, all you seem to do is piss of whoever’s writing your story, because why else would you be living such a shitty (but not enough to outwardly complain) life.

The second you wake up in bed was your first red flag. the sheets a bluish grey, far different from your own floral white ones. The bed is softer, and the quilt more warm, but that might just be from the sheer exhaustion you exhibited some time ago.

The next flag was the scary tall silhouette you see entering the room, holding what looks like a black plastic bag filled with various things.

riki looks much more intimidating when all you can make out is his outline.

the moment he turns around from shutting the door, he sees your eyes staring at him and the previous blank expression he wore changes into a face of concern.

“oh you’re awake” he scrambles words together as he stalks up to for bedside, placing the plastic bag beside him as he examines your condition like some kind of doctor.

“clearly” you croak, and you find out that your voice is extremely hoarse (and sore).

“try not to speak, i think you have a fever from standing under the rain” he deduces but you can’t help but scoff, “gee, who would’ve guessed”.

the sick you are even snarky than normal you.

Niki chuckles at your comment as he shuffles around the plastic bag for a bottle of water and what looks like painkillers.

you shift your head to watch him as he assorts the medicine and water onto the bedside table, pulling out a small mandarin to complete the collection.

“What's with the orange?” you whisper, trying to not use your voice too much, “vitamin c” he answers simply and you can’t help but laugh at him.

you manoeuvre into a sitting position to take what he’s giving you, ignoring the pain striking your head as you do so.

as you pop pills and chug water, you continue to scan the room. It's pretty boring, with a table with a few pieces of stationary, and a shelf with some personal touches.

Niki sees you’re so obviously inspecting the room, and coughs up an answer.

“oh umm- sorry. i didn’t know where you lived and you had passed out and i panicked and brought you to my house” he explains. that explains the strange surroundings. you’re in his room.

you think about how different his room is to what you originally assumed. no trophies, or obnoxious posters. a very standard and boring room for someone so rich.

his voice snaps you out of your thoughts, “i’ll leave you to rest” he starts to get up and you don’t know what has gotten over you, but the moment you see him shift away, you grasp his wrist urging his attention back on you.

he stares at you intently, as if he’d listen to the hours of silence you’d make if you chose to.

under his scrutinising gaze, you can’t help but avert your gaze. “I don't want to spend my birthday alone” you unconsciously mumble and you feel pathetic as you hear the words leave your mouth.

a raging silence fills the room, and your own anxiety gets the best of you as you loosen your grip around his wrist.

the moment he longer feels your fingers against him, he reaches for you back which surely catches your attention.

you never had a real interaction with the boy, especially due to the circumstances you (or him) were put through but your distaste for him wasn't baseless, even if your heart felt different.

Speaking about heart, it was pounding so loudly against your chest, you could’ve sworn Niki would dance to it.

“It's your birthday?” he’s grip on your hand is gentle, almost delicate as if you’d crack under the pressure of his touch. you nod softly, not facing him but you can tell what he’s thinking.

you probably seem more like a loser than you already are, you feel like that at least.

Riki nods his head, gently as to let your eyes follow enough not to be bothered by such movements. He repositions himself beside his own bed, hand still attached to yours.

you try everything in your power to ignore his riveting gaze, but the awkwardness is much louder than the silence itself.

you ponder to yourself, if this birthday was one of your best ones or the worse. you silently compare back to when you were six, and everyone and their friends were there. your parents seemed less concerned with otherworldly matters and you focused on nothing but the people around you.

That was the last time you felt noticed.

teenage angst must’ve hit you really early, huh?

then, back to just 14, where it was yet another year alone, with no one at school knowing who you are (yet because the moment you meet riki everything had a turn for the one worse), your parents at god knows where, living their best business lives, and this is your first time spending your birthday alone (first of a few).

you think how empty your house was, how dark and voided it felt, feeding into your ever growing reasons to angst.

and now you think of now, despite being ill with a rising fever, you don’t feel as bad as you did back then. you can’t tell if it’s just your delirious mind putting it’s fair share of delusional thoughts into you, or it’s just because you haven’t had company in so long. but the hand wrapped around yours, and the feeling of someone (even if it’s the ever so terrible niki) next you that made you smile.

“What are you smiling about? Are you going through shock?” niki’s voice is a mixture of playfulness and concern, because even if the chances of you suddenly falling into a seizure is low, it isn’t zero.

your eyes trail to him, but not to his eyes, you wouldn’t dare look straight at him.

“I thought it was going to be another bad birthday” you shrug, and you can’t for the life of you, wipe off your smile, not now because Riki finds it in himself to squeeze your hand.

you expect another remark, because that’s all your conversations seem to be (from the single one you’ve just had earlier) but nothing of the sort came, instead, from the corner of your eyes, you see him smile.

the nicest type of smile, with his boxy edges, and eyes squeezing softly.

if you weren’t looking at him before, you are now.

“I'm glad” that’s all he says, and your heart clenches at something that isn’t depression and anxiety.

The overwhelming feeling of awkwardness has long dissipated and has been replaced with something else.

something new.

you stare intently into his eyes, moreso, he does and you are compelled to look back. He's searching for something, in the darkness of the room it seems like.

you can barely make out his features, soft eyes, and sharp jaw. his hair perfectly framing his face, to much of your distaste, and is slightly damp probably from just getting back from wherever he went.

you wonder what’s going inside that head of his, while staring so intently at you, dissecting every little part of you. does he notice the droop of your eyes, how tired you look, how pale your skin has gotten from days locked in your room, how your cheeks never flushed with life yet was always plush to the touch (probably from all the instant food you’ve consumed)

does he notice the teenage angst you wallow in, him probably going through the same trivial problems as you.

“Sorry you have to spend your weekend with me” you whisper, thinking about all the other things the “king of dance” could be doing instead of nurturing you back to health.

He’d probably be out with heeseung or jake at the local gaming cafe, laughing and playing. He was probably on his way there if not for running into you.

you don’t break eye contact so you see how his eyes double in size, quick to shake his head, your own aching from following his movements. “hey don’t say that” he scolds you, taking his other hand to caress yours.

How intimate does he get?

your skin burns from his touch, and not because your fever is bordering on 39° C. Your eyes tear away, too much of your brains disliking because, even if you dislike him, he’s very nice to look at.

“no one deserves to spend their birthday alone” and he may be right, but your own angsty self could beg to differ.

because with the cards dealt to you, and the way you’ve treated the world (because how it treated you) there’s no doubt there’s a love hate (mostly hate) relationship going on between you and life.

“Even more, now that you’re sick” he adds on, rubbing circles to the back of your hand and you feel comfort for the first time in a while.

“i guess even someone who hates me can be nice, huh?” you didn't mean to say that out loud, but your quiet voice is too intertwined with your head voice, mixed with the fact that you’re terribly sick, couldn’t tell the difference.

he stares at you quizzingly, as if you’ve said something so utterly absurd it’s left him speechless.

“i don’t hate you”

those words catch you off guard. because the words “don't” and “hate” have never been uttered on the same line with “you” following after it.

you stay silent. it’s your birthday so of course he wouldn’t uprightly say it to your face.

“Do you hate me?”

he asks and you take a moment to ponder, about the strange stairs he’s given you, and the amount of times he’s ignored you piled with how everyone at school seems to stray away from you.

you only hate him because he hates you

“i only hated you because you hate me”

niki is left truly speechless (in a metaphorical sense), and his jaw is literally cracked wide.

“what?!? I don't hate you! god! i could never hate you”

like a cringey teenage cliche, you bite your lip holding back an unwanted grin.

“don’t say the lord's name in vain” you mutter to make light of the situation.

not having friends didn't mean you weren’t socially inept.

Your dry chuckle is the only sound left in the room, other than the pattering of rain. riki can’t help but frown at the news he just heard.

“i’ve never hated you, not for a second” he looks at you as if he’s trying to convince you, telling you that all your internalised monologues were for nothing, “i just thought… since you were so stand-off-ish, that you just didn't like me” you shrug, averting from his gaze.

words pour out of you like vomit and you can no longer keep up your enigmatic cool girl facade, not now that you’re sick.

“not many people like me, so i assume you hate me jusy as much, and well, if you hated me, i figured i should hate you back”

and you did, well you tried to at least. but in moments like these; where niki holds your hand as if you’re the only thing keeping him alive, where his eyes never leave your lips because he’s so set on remembering every little detail you say, afraid your words will be lost to tone. you can’t help but not hate him at all, noy one bit.

“how could i hate you when you’re just so perfect” he whispers, almost like a confession.

actually he did confess. to you. right now.

you owlishly blink, and suddenly think that your beating heart is more serious than your fever.

you try to snatch your hand away from him, in embarrassment of him feeling how hot you feel, with the tips of your ears flaming red.

with your averted gaze, it’s not like you can see that his neck has a creeping speck of hot red as well as his cheeks, ears, and everything on him.

He's so glad it’s dark right now.

“you can’t just say that, riki” it’s the first time you’ve said his name.

his name out of your mouth, your tongue, your lips.

He wants to hear it again.

“Why not?” he eggs, leaning closer despite the strange territory they’ve suddenly entered.

“Some people might get the wrong idea” and by some, you mean yourself because even with the minimal things you know about the boy next to you, your heart is fluttering like crazy it makes you want to vomit.

“But I'm not lying, you’re so perfect” Riki reiterates, “you’re so perfect, i’m afraid to even talk to you, or look at you, even be around you” he rambled at the amount of failed attempts to talk to you, caused by his shyness.

so… everytime you tried to talk to him, walked near him, caught him staring, it was all because of some silly crush?

and now you feel stupid, ontop of your crippling angst, you’ve failed at teenage romance.

letting out a frustrating sigh, so heavy you might even blow the poor boy away, you drop down ontop your back and whine.

he’s shocked for a moment, watching you wail with your hands covering your face.

he finds you so cute, his stomach might because an olympic gymnast at this point.

riki crawls closer to you, kneeling onto his knees as he gently pries your hand away from your face. “I feel so stupid” you can’t help but utter, eyes shut to avoid his eyes.

riki grins, leaning closer (not that you could see), “the smartest girl at school? Feeling stupid? That's a first” he jokes and you unintentionally snort out a laugh, “i’m not the smartest” you instantly shoot back, slowly opening your eyes.

“oh but you are, you’re smart, and beautiful, and mysterious and witty and-“ you rip your hand from his grip to cover his mouth, any more and your ego will start to inflate and be as big as Sunghoon’s. “aish, stop that

'' You laugh, and you can hear him giggling along.

“But why? can’t i tell the girl i like how amazingly perfect she is?”

the girl he likes…

the.

girl

likes

IS YOU?

“you like me…” you gape, maybe you are socially inept, or at least, romantically.

riki laughs, and a hearty one at that. the type of laugh that comes straight from the stomach. “how could anyone not?” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

like the teenage girl you are, you can’t help but feel bubbly and giddy, like the princess in some lame disney movie being swept off her feet by a guy who’s probably way too old for her (funny seeing that riki’s younger than you).

Then guilt hits you. as much as you want to revel in this blissful joy, you know nothing about riki, and you spent so long hating on him in your head to suddenly switch up.

“I know nothing about you though…” you break the news to him, “i mean, we technically just had our first real conversation”.

riki can’t help but smile, even if he’s just been indirectly rejected, your gentleness in letting him down makes him swoon even more.

“we can get to know each other then” he declares, smiling down at you.

“But are you willing to wait?” your eyes fill with anticipation, hoping for the best (it is your birthday after all), and wonder for the first time in forever, smiling from ear to ear.

“for you, i’d wait a thousand years”

if what he said before wasn't swoon worthy, this definitely was.

you feel like one of his silly fangirls that wait outside of class, giggling at his stupid smile but this time, you know you’re the cause of it.

“Are you going to start singing Christina Aguilera now?” you joke, giggling quietly to yourself. “I mean you should, since it’s my birthday after all” oh what a good birthday it was.

“anything for my birthday girl” Seeing your smile stretch for the first time, he hopes he’d be seeing that everyday in the near future.

Riki looks at you, for what feels like the millionth time. He really looks at you, like he did at school, like he did on the street in the rain, and like he does now.

and he thinks to himself:

yeah, I can definitely wait.

authors note pt.2: as you can see i write a lot for riki (my bias) mostly because i have so many wips that i s decided to release 🤭 might accept request who knows. also if you have any tips on how to write or do a layout please pm!!!!

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7waystreet · 2 years

Text

tongue at work | jeon jungkook

synopsis — your boyfriend jungkook surprises you at work with a little more than a cup of coffee on his mind

genre — fluff; smut

warnings — 18+ language and sexual content, oral sex (fem receiving)

word count — 1.6k

After a terribly exhausting work day, you're finally about to log off of your computer and head out of the office. A feeling of excitement taking over, you secretly smile to yourself as you're looking forward to the fancy Italian dinner Jungkook's planned for the two of you tonight.

An unexpected knock on your office door quickly shakes you out of your happy thoughts though. "Come on in!"

The door swiftly swings open and your colleague Keya walks in, a look of pain and panic very evident on her face as she deeply frowns at you. Your brows furrow while you questioningly look at her, not sure what she's about to tell you, but you're undoubtedly getting a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach.

"Our manager just sent back these revised docs and said we have to finalize this proposal today itself before we go home. I'm so sorry (y/n)! I know it's your anniversary with your boyfriend."

Your heart immediately sinks from how upset you're feeling now, but you really have no other option than to suck it up and deal with this.

"It's not your fault!" you force a smile at Keya. "Here, give me the docs. I'll call you when I'm done so you can review the finalized proposal and send out the report."

After Keya apologetically hands you the folder and closes the door shut behind her, you let out a deep sigh as you flop back down in your spinning chair. You decide to call Jungkook right away and update him on the situation so he doesn't get disheartened at the very last minute.

"Hey Koo," you start off soft, mumbling out of the guilt that's burning at your throat. "I'm really sorry but it looks like we'll have to cancel our plans for tonight. My boss just dumped a shit ton of work on me so I won't be able to make it to the restaurant in time for our reservation."

"Ahh… ok," Jungkook lets out a faint sigh. You can tell he's disappointed from his tone, but he tries his best to sound cheerful to keep you motivated. "Please don't worry, I understand. Make sure you stay focused on your work instead of worrying about this, ok?"

"Hm thanks for that, really. What would I do without you?" you smile, your heart warming up at his reassuring words.

"You certainly wouldn't be able to moan the way you do when I fuck you good" he casually chuckles, now making you imagine him smirking on the other end of the line.

"Jeon Jungkook!" you exclaim, fully blushing, as you're completely caught off guard by his blunt remark.

Your boyfriend can surely be the sweetest guy one minute, and then flip into a tempting devil within the blink of an eye. It's almost overwhelming to be with him sometimes as the constant butterflies in your stomach never cease to exist, making him far too dangerous for your heart, but you know you'll never be able to get enough of him.

Dirty thoughts about Jungkook float around in your mind even after you've said your goodbyes and ended the call, but you force yourself to shake them off as you need to get back to completing your work.

About an hour later you drift off after letting out a yawn, lazily rubbing your eyes in an attempt to still somewhat stay alert. You're certainly starting to get tired and losing your focus, but your ears perk up when you hear a knock on your door again. Thinking it's Keya coming back with a question, you say "Come in!" while straightening up your slouching body in the chair.

Your eyes grow wide with shock and your lips instantly shoot up in a grin as your eyes fall on Jungkook, who's pushing open the door with the edge of his shoulder as both of his hands are occupied by the two cups he's holding.

"Thought I'd surprise you with your favorite strawberry acai refresher for a boost of energy" Jungkook smiles at you, his doe eyes twinkling with love as he gently places both cups down on your desk before coming over to you.

"Aww I'm so happy to see you" you can't help but openly gush, now standing up and instantly wrapping your arms around his torso.

Jungkook looks perfect as always as he looks down at you and flashes his bunny smile, those pretty wrinkles cutely forming around the corners of his eyes like they always do. He smells like crisp fresh laundry while he's comfy in a matching dark gray sweat set, his black hair wavier than usual and slightly messy as it's getting quite long.

"Happy anniversary babe" he smiles into the kiss while cupping your cheeks with the soft palms of his hands, making a loud mwah sound as he smooches your lips.

"Happy anniversary, Kook. I'm sorry it couldn't be perfect" you say in a low voice, still feeling bad about how your special night had turned out to be, all because of you.

"Hey shhh!" he adorably groans while placing a finger on your lips to hush you up. "Now stop it. It's perfect as long as we're together. Is it cool if I chill out here while you finish your work?"

Jungkook gets settled on the couch in your office, turning on his iPad and browsing through his usual favorite videos to watch, most of them being boxing or workout routines, and the random sprinkle of cooking recipes here and there. He never fails to amuse you. It's like he can do it all.

You keep getting distracted from your tasks as your eyes unknowingly drift towards Jungkook, his irresistible sight captivating you against your own will. He's comfortably flopped on the couch, your mind wanting you to throw away all the paperwork in front of you and instead run over to Jungkook and cuddle up next to him. He catches you staring as he looks over his screen at the same time, a smirk immediately forming on his thin lips as he raises a brow.

"Whatcha lookin' at?"

"Oh you know, just my sexy boyfriend."

"Well, why don't you take a lil break and spend some time with him?"

The enticing look he's given you now along with the whisper of his voice in the quiet office space makes your heart skip a full beat. He's already thrown his iPad to the side and gotten up, walking over to you as you sit there nervously, refusing to break your eye contact with him.

"No, stay seated" he orders you when you try to stand up and get closer to him, his voice deepening up by the second.

"Kook — my God! What're you doing?!" you gasp as you see him slowly get down on his knees in front of you, his eyes hungrily fixed on your skirt that looks even shorter than it is, being scrunched up from the way you've been sitting for hours.

"Having dessert before dinner" he smiles, quickly glancing up at you while his hands start pushing your skirt up to reveal your black lace panties underneath. "Now just relax."

He doesn't even give you a chance to speak, his nimble thumbs now hooking onto your panties before he slides them off with ease. His wet mouth is already pressed against your lower lips, his tongue licking a strip over your folds as he gets a taste of you.

"Mmm" he hums against your sensitive skin, the vibration of it all sending a shiver down your spine. "I could never have enough of you, baby."

You begin whimpering from the pleasure, his tongue fully at work as he circles it over your clit with a pace, then softly kissing it after to give you a second to breathe. He keeps eating you out, making your legs shake from how good he's making you feel, your eyes closing up tight to take the overwhelming sensation in. He soon crawls a bit closer, his head now entirely between your thighs, his muscular forearms holding your legs down to stop you from squirming around.

Just then, your office door abruptly swings open and Keya barges in without a warning, already starting to talk with you while too busy staring down at a file in her hand.

"Hey (y/n)… what do you think about this section of the proposal? Uh… are you ok?"

You're lucky Jungkook is tucked underneath your desk and Keya can't see what the fuck you're both up to in your office, his body perfectly hidden behind the desk from any line of sight. Your face muscles are no doubt looking strained as you're trying to hide the fact that Jungkook's tongue is indeed playing around with your clit while your clueless colleague is directly staring you in the face.

"Yup, I'm just… great. Can I call you in later? Got to deal with…. something. Ah… uh first" you struggle to speak out basic words, Jungkook no doubt enjoying this moment as he picks up the pace of his mouth to make you shudder even more. He could literally be the devil.

Keya suspiciously nods at you before she turns around and leaves the room, you finally being able to let out a big breath as your chest rapidly heaves from the fast approaching orgasm that Jungkook's mouth is giving you. A simple "fuck" escapes you as your body tenses up and you cum onto his mouth, a pulsing burn of joy spreading through your veins while Jungkook happily licks you clean and peeks his head back out from underneath your skirt.

"Feeling relaxed?" he smirks, getting up on his feet and leaning into your face, making you taste yourself as he passionately kisses you.

"We almost got caught!" you giggle at the way he's so unabashedly unafraid.

"What's life without a little bit of thrill?"

#bts #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts smut #boyfriend jungkook #bts one shot #bts x reader #bts au fic #bts fanfic #bts aus #bts au #jeon jungkook #방탄소년단

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moodymelanist · 4 months

Text

Handprints and Good Grips

happy last and final day of @sjmromanceweek, everyone! I couldn’t let this week go by without giving y’all some Nessian smut, so I hope this hits the spot 🤭 this one is a continuation of Take All of Me from SJM Romance Week 2023, but all you need to know about that one is Nessian didn’t make it out the house for their reservations.

I had such a blast putting this week together and seeing everyone's amazing contributions. I hope you enjoy today's fic and see you all very very soon for @nestaarcheronweek in April!!

Summary: Cassian and Nesta are absolutely, one hundred percent going to make it to their fancy dinner reservations this year.

At least… that was the intention. Again.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: smut lies ahead!

Read on AO3 here!

♡♡♡♡♡ Cassian

As Cassian fussed with his tie in front of the bedroom mirror, he couldn’t help but grin at his own reflection. He knew he looked good in his crisp, white button-up shirt and well-fitted black slacks, but his favorite accessory had to be the gold wedding band settled perfectly on his left hand.

Two years in, and he didn’t think he’d ever get tired of looking at it.

They were supposed to celebrate their second wedding anniversary tonight, and for once they were actually moving according to schedule. Nesta was in the bathroom doing her hair and makeup while Cassian had been relegated to the bedroom, and they had about twenty minutes left before they needed to leave.

After they hadn’t even made it out the house last year, Nesta was even more hell-bent on making it to their reservation this time. If she could have it her way, she would’ve gotten ready elsewhere and just met Cassain at the restaurant just to cut down on the risk of what happened last year happening again.

It made absolutely no sense to do that, though, so Cassian was treated to the sight of watching his wife get ready for a night out. Nesta was always stunning to him, but there was just something about watching her get all dolled up just for him that rubbed him exactly the right way.

Once Cassian finished messing with his tie in the mirror, he winked at himself before settling on the corner of the bed to wait for Nesta to come out of the bathroom again. It didn’t take long for her to make an appearance; as much as she liked to complain about him distracting her, they both knew how much she liked having his eyes on her.

When Nesta walked by him, Cassian couldn’t help but reach out and snake an arm around her waist. She was still in the robe she liked to wear when she was getting ready, the silky material perfect for running a hand across her ass. “Mhmm, you look so good.”

“I’m not even dressed yet,” Nesta responded with a roll of her eyes. Her hair was still in rollers, but her makeup was mostly done, and Cassian was a little obsessed with the way her smoky eyeliner made her eyes look so blue.

“I don’t see the problem with that,” he answered, still rubbing a hand across her ass. Was she wearing underwear right now, or were they so thin that he couldn’t feel them through the material of her robe? Either option would be good.

“Don’t you start with me,” she told him, cutting off his train of thought with a flick to his forearm. She let him grab one last handful of her ass before she wiggled out of his grip entirely. “We are not canceling this reservation again. Do you understand me?”

“Uh huh,” he answered. His eyes were still glued to the way the fabric clung to her body, and he forced them back up to her face with an unrepentant smirk. “Perfectly, sweetheart.”

“Don’t you sweetheart me,” she warned him, fixing him with a highly unamused look. “I know exactly what you’re up to.”

“A man can’t appreciate his wife without being accused of ulterior motives?” he asked innocently. “What has this world come to?”

She just rolled her eyes before grabbing the earrings she’d been looking for and walking back toward the bathroom. He hated to see her go, but holy shit, did he love to watch her leave. “Save it, Cassian. We’re leaving in ten minutes.”

Cassian headed toward the living room while he waited, deciding to at least try to be good while she finished getting ready. It didn’t take long for him to put on his shoes and grab their coats, and in a burst of foresight, he briefly ran outside and started warming the car up so they wouldn’t be freezing when they got outside.

When Nesta sashayed out of their bedroom, she found Cassian holding her coat out to help her slide into it. “Hey. You ready to go?”

“Yeah. You look…” Cassian trailed off, trying and failing to come up with the right words to describe Nesta in her silky red dress and her bouncy curls and her smoky eyes. Her dress especially had his mouth falling open a little from the way the silky material clung to every curve, and the slit on the left side revealed just enough skin to make him go a little crazy. “God. I can’t even think of a good enough word right now, Nes.”

“A for effort, right?” Nesta replied with a smirk. Once her coat was on and she was facing him again, she didn’t hide the way she looked him over just as appreciatively. “You certainly cleaned up nicely.”

“I have to keep up with you, don’t I?” he fired back without missing a beat.

“You can certainly try,” she retorted, still smirking a little bit.

Nesta reached up and cupped Cassian’s face briefly, and he couldn’t stop himself from turning in to press a soft kiss to the inside of her palm. Her expression turned fond for a quick second before she grew serious.

“The only reason you’re driving is because I can’t with these shoes,” Nesta told him, motioning toward the car keys in his hand with a serious glare. God, she was so sexy when she scowled at him. “Whatever you’re thinking about, stop it.”

“I can’t help it, sweetheart,” Cassian answered. He forced himself to step away from her so he could open the door for her, very much enjoying the way she stared him down the entire time. “You know what the glaring does to me.”

“Well, undo it,” she replied without missing a beat. After another long look, she finally sighed and moved toward the door. “We have places to be.”

They stepped outside into the cool February air and Cassian jogged ahead so he could open Nesta’s car door for her, too. She murmured a soft thank you as he offered his hand to get her up into the passenger seat, and he walked back toward the front door to make sure everything was locked before he got into the driver’s seat.

Once they were both strapped in and ready to go, Cassian pulled out of their driveway and put his hand on Nesta’s thigh as usual. He realized his mistake immediately after he felt all that bare, soft skin under his fingers — of course it was on the side where the slit in her dress was — but it seemed worse to pull away from her now. It was fine. He’d just… suffer in silence for the remaining twenty minutes of their car ride.

“Ugh, it’s too quiet in here,” Nesta commented a few minutes into the drive. She shifted to reach for her phone and Cassian bit down hard on his lip to stop himself from thinking about how dangerously close his fingers had gotten to her panty line. Guess she was wearing underwear after all. “You like Reneé Rapp, right?”

“Whatever you want,” Cassian agreed, not even really hearing a word his wife said. He did like Reneé Rapp, but he didn’t process what Nesta said for at least another thirty seconds into the first song she’d queued up. “Oh. Yeah, I do like her.”

She just snorted. “Just focus on the road, baby.”

The next few minutes of their drive were uneventful until Cassian made his second mistake. He came to a stop at a red light and stole a quick glance over at Nesta… and managed to look right down the front of her dress. He’d picked the exact moment she leaned down to grab something out of her purse, revealing that she was not wearing a bra tonight. For those few seconds that she was bent over, every thought flew out of his mind other than how much her breasts were stretching the fabric of her dress and how perfect they would feel under his hands right now.

Cassian didn’t come back to himself until the person behind him honked, and then he had to get himself together enough to start driving again. Stop thinking about Nesta’s tits, stop thinking about Nesta’s tits, stop thinking about Nesta’s tits…

“You alright?” Nesta asked from beside him. “The light’s green.”

“Yup,” Cassian answered, hoping his voice didn’t sound as strained as his pants were starting to feel. It turned out that telling himself to stop thinking about Nesta’s chest was the perfect way to only think about it, and his brain decided to be oh so helpful by playing his personal montage of favorite moments. Nesta at the pool last summer, Nesta fresh out of the shower, Nesta on her knees in front of him — Nesta, Nesta, Nesta.

What was Cassian supposed to do? He was only a man, and one who was head over heels in love with Nesta. He only had but so much willpower, especially when she looked as good as she did right now. How the fuck was he supposed to make it through dinner and dessert when the only thing he wanted to eat was his beautiful wife?

Sighing heavily, he turned off the main avenue and got lucky a few minutes in finding a warning sign for a hidden road. Honestly, he was surprised he’d lasted as long as he did before giving in.

“What are you doing?” Nesta asked, sounding deeply unamused. “The restaurant's the other way.”

“I know which way the restaurant is,” Cassian answered. He was practically white knuckling the steering wheel and it was a miracle it didn’t give under his grip. “We’re not making it.”

“Yes, we are,” she replied coolly. “Turn the car around.”

Cassian didn’t listen, instead continuing down the road until they were far enough that they probably wouldn’t be spotted.

“Get in the backseat, Nesta,” Cassian told her once he’d parked the car and taken off his seatbelt.

The unimpressed look on her face morphed into a glare so fierce it would’ve sent lesser men running for the hills. “Are you out of your mind? Keep driving, Cassian.”

“You have two choices,” he replied, turning to face her so he could reach out and grip the side of her neck. He wasn’t quite choking her, not yet, but it was more than enough to make her eyes go a little wide so he knew she was listening. “Either you get your pretty little ass in the backseat, or you get in my lap. Pick one.”

Cassian had never been more thankful to own an SUV as he watched Nesta sigh heavily, get out the car, and yank open the rear passenger door. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” he told her once they were both in the backseat. He was way too big for them to lie down, so she tossed her shoes in the front seat and climbed into his lap.

“Yeah, I do,” she insisted with a glare. He wondered how long it would take to make her eat her words this time. “I wanted to actually make it out this time!”

“Then why’d you wear this, huh?” he asked, pushing her coat off her shoulders so he could play with the straps of her dress. They were so thin it would be a miracle if he didn’t end up snapping one of them by accident. “You knew exactly what you were doing.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied. The effect was lessened by the way she was starting to breathe a little faster and lean into his touch. “I just—”

“You just what?” he cut her off. He pushed one strap off her shoulders and held back his smirk at the way she angled her other shoulder out. “Just wanted to push all my buttons so you could blame it on me?”

“No,” Nesta said, her eyes a little wide now. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” Cassian said back. He reached up to push the other strap off her shoulder and was immensely satisfied when she swallowed thickly. “Letting me feel you up, bending over to flash me… you think I don’t know all the little games you like to play with me?”

“I wasn’t,” she tried to argue, but she wasn’t really trying all that hard.

“Yes, you were,” he told her. The top of her dress was slowly sliding down now that there wasn’t anything to hold it up anymore, but he refused to give into temptation until she begged for it. “If you just admit it, maybe you’ll get what you want.”

“I don’t want anything,” she lied through her teeth. The way she was trying to subtly lean forward and push her breasts into his face said otherwise, though. “I just wanted to go to dinner.”

“Why, so all those people could look at what’s mine?” He laughed, a little meanly, and goosebumps broke out across her skin. “We can probably still make the grace period. I’d love to bend you over the table and teach you a fucking lesson.”

Bingo. Nesta’s eyes went really wide at that, and Cassian decided to take a little pity on her. He reached up and dug a hand into her hair so he could pull her down for a kiss, and she moaned right into his mouth once their lips finally met. She opened up for him immediately and started rocking her hips against his, both of them breathing hard now that they were grinding together to the same rhythm as their tongues.

“Fuck, look at you,” Cassian breathed once he pulled Nesta back by her hair. She was making him a little — no, a lot — crazy by how wrecked she looked already, and that was only the beginning. He was going to ruin her. “Love when you get like this.”

“Cassian, come on,” Nesta replied, whining just a little bit. She was still rocking against his cock and it was taking all his concentration not to give in and move with her. “Stop fucking with me.”

“You were fucking with me first, sweetheart,” he retorted. He shifted his grip on her so he was holding tight to her hips, earning an annoyed sound as he stopped her from moving altogether. “Maybe if you’d owned up to that we wouldn’t be in this situation, now would we?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” she cut herself off with a frustrated huff. He wanted her unable to string her words together, so this was a good start. “Please.”

“Please what?” he asked, grinning up at her.

“Please,” she repeated. “Touch me, let me touch you, I don’t care, just— something, please. I can’t fucking take it.”

“Take my cock out,” Cassian demanded after a few moments. Nesta reached down and unbuckled his belt, moving fast to unzip his pants and wrap her hands around his hard length. “Come on, Nesta. I don’t have all day.”

He breathed a sigh of relief once he was finally free, but it quickly changed to a groan once she started stroking him. She knew exactly how he liked it, her grip on the perfect edge between pleasure and pain, and he let his head fall back against the seat while he watched her. One of her hands wasn’t enough to wrap fully around him, but they both liked how much bigger he was than her.

Cassian nearly lost it when Nesta brought two of her fingers to her lips to taste the precum leaking from the tip, but he forced himself to take a deep breath and get a goddamn grip. “That’s enough. Pull your dress up.”

Nesta released her fingers with a pop and reached down to yank at her dress, exposing the tiny scrap of red lace that was supposed to count for underwear. All the jostling made the top of her dress fall down even further, exposing her breasts to the warm air of the car, and Cassian tweaked one of her nipples roughly before pushing her underwear to the side and thrusting two fingers inside without warning.

“Oh my God,” she moaned, one of her hands reaching out to steady herself on his shoulders. She was so soaked he was surprised it hadn’t spread to the inside of her thighs. “Cassian…”

“You must really want it,” he commented casually, like she wasn’t hot and tight around his fingers and practically begging for his cock. “Tell me how much you want it.”

“Please fuck me,” she pleaded without missing a beat. She started rocking against him and her grip on his shoulder turned near-painful as she dug her nails in. “Please, I need you so bad, I’ve been thinking about sitting on your cock all night—”

Cassian couldn’t take waiting anymore. Hewithdrew his fingers and brought them to Nesta’s lips, his cock throbbing as she tasted herself with a little groan. She licked his fingers clean and stared right at him as he slowly pulled them out of her mouth; if he hadn’t been so ready to fuck her, he would’ve put her on her knees right then and there.

It took a little manuevering, but they managed to get the angle right for Cassian’s cock to line up perfectly with Nesta’s entrance. They both moaned as she slowly slid down onto his cock, Cassian unable to make up his mind about whether he wanted to watch Nesta take him inch by inch or her face while she did. He chose to look at her face so he could catalogue every little sound that came out of her mouth until their hips were flush.

“So fucking perfect,” Cassian murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to Nesta’s neck. It was so warm inside the car now that her skin was a little slick with sweat, but he didn’t give a fuck. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Nesta said. He lived for these tender little moments just as much as he did the rough, dirty ones, and so did she. “But I thought you were gonna fuck me.”

Cassian shifted his grip so he had one hand on her hip and the other on her ass so he could smack one of her cheeks. “I never said that, sweetheart. Get a fucking move on.”

Nesta didn’t waste any time, reaching out with both hands to steady herself on Cassian’s shoulders as she started rocking back and forth. She started slow and eventually picked up more speed, the windows starting to really fog up now as she bounced on his cock. She felt like heaven wrapped around him and felt twice as good, but it was only a matter of time until he was going to take matters into his own hands.

Cassian shifted his legs as wide as he could with Nesta sitting astride him, moving the hand on her ass back to her other hip so he could move her up and down on his cock in time with his thrusts.

“Jesus Christ,” Nesta panted, holding on for dear life as Cassian really started fucking her. “Ah — don’t stop, fuck, you feel so good—”

“Love how you take my cock,” Cassian grunted, thrusting up into her even faster now. Nesta tipped her head forward onto his shoulder so her next moan was quite literally music to his ears. “Love fucking your perfect pussy.”

“Oh my— fuck, I love it, love your cock,” Nesta whimpered between gasps for breath.

He didn’t miss how one of her hands disappeared from his shoulder to sneak down between her legs. “You gonna make yourself come?”

“Yes, yes, don’t stop,” she moaned. He was fucking her so hard it was honestly impressive she could keep her fingers on her clit, but he wasn’t about to ask questions. “So close.”

“Let me see,” he told her, panting. He wasn’t far off from coming, either, but he always made sure she came first if he could help it. “Wanna watch you come on my cock—”

Nesta cursed loudly as she came, clenching down hard and milking him for everything he was worth. Cassian couldn’t stop his own climax even if he’d wanted to and went right over the edge with her, groaning as a wave of pleasure slammed into him.

They didn’t move for another few minutes so they could catch their breath. Nesta managed to crawl into the passenger seat without leaving the car, but Cassian had to put his cock away and open the car door to get back to the driver’s side.

“Happy anniversary, sweetheart,” Cassian said eventually. He rolled down the window to let some of the hot air out and let out a relieved sigh as the cold air started rolling in. “Maybe next year we’ll make it to the restaurant.”

Nesta pressed her lips together to hide her smile as she pulled out her phone, her fingers moving quickly to open the UberEats app. She hadn’t bothered to put her shoes back on and her dress was definitely on backwards, but she was still the most beautiful thing in the world to Cassian. “Happy anniversary to you too, baby, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up. Now… what do you want to order for dinner?”

#sjmromanceweek2024 #acotar #acosf #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #cassian acotar #nesta x cassian #cassian x nesta #pro nessian #pro nesta archeron #pro cassian acotar #moodymelanistwrites

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wandafiction · 4 months

Text

I'm Her Wife - Part 1

Warnings: Little bit of angst, maybe getting arrested (but only for like a second or two), fluff

Today was Scarlett's birthday, she had invited her friends around for a small celebration wanting some company because you had told her you weren't able to make it. You had been sent on a last minute business trip, and as hard as you tried your boss had told you 'you're the best one for the job'. So after telling Scarlett you would make it up to her, you quickly packed and left her and Rose to get to the airport. Apparently you were trying to convince new investors to, well, invest in your company and you had 2 or 3 meetings a week each week with a new company. There were 4 companies in total.

You left two weeks ago.

You and her have called and messaged each other everyday, Rose was always there with her because she didn't want to go to bed without you telling her a good night story. It was sometimes difficult because you were in England for this job, your boss wanted to go international with his logistical company.

You felt terrible.

Of course you did.

This is why you're currently in an uber on the way to your house. How? So one of the companies had double booked and hadn't realised until you showed up at the front desk, that night your boss got a very angry phone call; and you can only expect the company who cancelled on you did too. The last company had said that they had already given their answer and emailed it over to the person who was dealing with getting these meetings set up, after you phoned them to set up the meetings for two week in the future. That person had left a few weeks ago and never forwarded any emails onto her replacement.

So now you were jetlagged, angry and just wanted to get home to your wife and Rose. You also wanted to try and get home before her friends turned up because none of them apart from Lizzie, who had caught you two in a make out session in Scarlett's trailer, know you are her wife. They know she is with someone because she will mention the words 'my partner' every once in a while, but they are respectful enough to not ask questions.

However, traffic is awful and as your uber pulls up outside your house you can see movement through the windows of a few people inside.

"Thanks." You give your driver a tight lipped smile, as you get out of the car and grab your suitcase from the trunk.

You walk up the steps of the townhouse, picking up the sound of the party on the inside. Soft music playing being muffled by the windows and doors. You lean your head against the door taking in a deep breath unsure if you should enter or wait for everyone to leave. You didn't want to cause issues for Scarlett by just appearing home in front of all her work friends, but the feeling of your legs and body about to collapse from being so tired wins you over.

"It's fine I will just sneak upstairs." You whisper to yourself as you put your key in the lock and slowly open the door.

You push it open slowly, poking your head through the gap to make sure no one is going to spot you. As you open the door you step into the house, lifting up your suitcase so it doesn't make any noise and put it down just inside the door. You turn to close the door, hearing the tiny click of the lock you lean against the door and let out a breath.

"Now just to get upstairs." You look up the stairs which are just past the door to the kitchen where you assume everyone is.

You decided trying to get your suitcase upstairs was not an option because it was heavy and it would hit every step. You removed your shoes and took a couple of steps forwards to just before the open door frame. You take a breath before quickly tip-toeing past the door making it to the bottom step you think you've made until a voice behind you stops you.

"Hey! What are you doing?" You roll your eyes at the voice bowing your head as you don't dare turn around. "Hey, I asked you a question."

"I'm just here to see Scarlett." You know he wouldn't believe you, but it was worth a try you thought.

"Yeah, good joke. Now tell me the truth." You feel a hand on your shoulder turn your body around and push you against the wall, the face you're met with is an annoyed looking Chris Evans.

“It is the truth. Get your hands off of me and let me go upstairs.” You try pushing him off but his other hand moves to hold onto your other shoulder, and you hear the music turn off and see people walking out of the kitchen. “Oh for fuck sake.”

“Chris, who is this?” Robert asks, causing Chris to roll his eyes.

“That's what I am trying to find out.”

“Well, ask them then.” Robert replies in a duh tone causing Chris to grumble.

“I have asked them and they didn’t answer.” You lean your head back, with a small bang it hits the wall and you close your eyes.

“Actually you asked what I was doing here and I answered that question. But my answer didn’t seem truthful to you. If you just call Scarlett out here everything will be sorted.” You hear a laugh and peek your eyes open to see Jeremy shaking his head walking up to you.

“You think we are going to believe that. The minute we turn our backs you're going to run.” Once again the back of your head makes contact with the wall. “And anyway, Scarlett isn’t here so that trick isn’t going to work.”

“Wait, where is she?” Your eyes shoot open as panic overtakes your being, all those small voices in the back of your head becoming very loud and telling you something bad has happened.

“Why would we tell you that information? So you can stalk her. Is that what you are? Some psycho stalker who’s managed to break into her house.” Jeremy scoffs a look of disgust painted on his face, and all you could think was of course she had invited some of the men around and she wasn’t here to defend you against them.

“Look, I'm not a stalker. I’m not breaking into this place, I live here. But I wont answer anything else because it's not my place.” The three men look between one another before Robert pulls out his phone.

“Yeah, I believe this bullshit. I'm calling Scarlett.”

“Oh thank god.” You relax slightly, taking a small breath knowing that everything is going to be sorted but Chris gives your shoulders a gentle shove causing you to wince slightly at the force he is using to hold you against the wall.

“Hey Scarlett. Yeah, yeah everything's fine. Well no it's not. No, we havent burnt your house down. No, we haven't drunk all the alcohol. No, no Chris isn’t drunk out of his mind.” You chuckle to yourself at the one sided conversation you are hearing. “No nothing like that. Just, someone has turned up looking for you and none of us know who they are. Uhm, no they aren’t someone from the black widow set and they look too young to be someone from a previous film.”

“Damn right I'm young, I’m 25.” You whisper to yourself proud that he has at least got something right in his assumptions about you.

“What? Uhm, they are in sweatpants and a hoodie. That’s what I thought, who turns up to a birthday in sweatpants and a hoodie. No they are being pretty stubborn. Sure, no problem. See you soon.” He hangs up, turning to look at Jeremy.

“She isn’t expecting anyone else. Call the police so they can come and deal with this. Scarlett is going to be another half an hour.” You feel the color drain from your face and your heart stops beating for a few moments hearing the words leave his lips.

“On it.” Your eyes dart to watch as Jeremy uses his phone, walking into the other room to talk to the person on the other end while Robert moves to stand next to Chris.

“You’ve gone awfully quiet. Caught red handed and you don’t even have an alibi.” You bite at your lip wanting to shout that you're Scarlett’s wife but know that it probably won’t help and she isn’t technically out to her friends so you don’t want to do that to her either.

“Where is she?” You ask quietly in hope that they would actually tell you. You know she is on her way and she is safe, but you just want to know where she is because she hadn’t told you of any plans she had apart from spending it at home with Rose. “Wait, where's Rose?”

“Yeah, not happening. Fucking creep asking after a child and her mother even after she just told us she doesn’t know you.” Chris spits through his teeth, his grip not loosening.

“I’m her wife.” You blurt out, your hand rushing to your mouth too late to stop yourself.

“Yeah and I’m the easter bunny.” Robert snarks back. Before you can reply Jeremy walks back into the hallway.

“Police are 5 minutes out.”

♤♡◇♧

“Please come with me ma’am.” The officer pushes your hands into the small of your back, the chain of the handcuffs clinking together as you start walking. “My colleague will read you your rights while I gather statements.”

He makes you sit down on the edge of the hood of the car, his colleague who looks nervous makes his way over to you and you can tell instantly that he was a rookie. He clicks his pen over and over as he mumbles a few words to himself as his eyes dart left to right looking at his notebook. You roll your eyes, grumbling to yourself knowing everything will take 10 times longer because the rookie would have to retake everyone's statements for training purposes. You huff out a small laugh as he finally looks up at you and makes his way over.

“I'm Officer Stevenson. While my colleague gathers statements, I'm going to read you your rights and then we are going to put you in the car and take you to the station.” You roll your eyes at his quick ramblings as he blinks rapidly a few times.

“Read that word for word, huh kid?” The rookies eyes flick up to yours and you see him swallow harshly giving you a quick nod,

“Protocol.” You hum with a small nod rolling your head around letting out a long sigh before looking back at the rookie,

“Okay, give it to me.” The rookies' brows scrunch at your words.

“Give you what?” You raise a brow in an ‘are you serious’ look.

“My rights, of course.”

“Oh, right of course. Sorry.” You chuckle as he clicks his pen a few more times, closing his eyes for a second then opening them to look at you. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in court. You have the right to talk to a lawyer for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to have a lawyer with you during questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you before any questioning if you wish. If you decide to answer questions now without a lawyer present, you have the right to stop answering at any time.”

“Done?” You ask just wanting to get this day over and done with. You would get a phone call at the station where you could phone Scarlett and get everything sorted, the main thing on your mind was that you could have a nap in the holding cell while you waited. You were so tired.

“Uh, yeah.” The rookie quickly puts away his pen and notebook moving to pull you off the hood.

“Are you not going to get their statements?” The rookie quickly shakes his head.

“No, my mentor does all that. Says I'm still too nervous to even ask the right questions.” You hum to yourself nodding in silent agreement to his question.

“Right, so straight to the station then?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Please stop calling me ma’am I am only 25.”

“Sorry Miss.”

“Still bad but not as awful.” You see the rookie laugh a little before a glare from his colleague makes him clear his throat and start leading you to the side of the car where he opens the door.

“Watch your head.” He places his hand on your head to protect it from hitting the top of the door as you slowly lower yourself in but a shriek causes everyone to stop and turn to look down the road.

“Mama!” You breathe a sigh of relief when you see Rose running towards you, with Scarlett and Lizzie following quickly behind.

“Mama?” All the men turn to look at you in complete shock as Rose makes it to the door of the police car looking up at the rookie.

“Why are you taking my mama away?” She asks with her bottom lip quivering, using her sleeve to wipe at a few tears. The rookie's mouth opens and closes a few times before turning to his colleague.

“Er what do I do now?” You let out a small laugh, his complete confusion being the thing that brings a smile to your face.

“We wait to see if the woman can identify her and if they can, then we can let her go if there is no suspicious activity.” The rookie nods, giving you an apologetic smile as he helps you back out of the car.

Before you can even react you feel a pair of arms wrap around you, the force making you stumble backwards a few steps feeling grateful that the rookie manages to keep you both standing up. You feel Scarlett mumbling against your neck as her arms move to wrap around your neck pulling your head down slightly as her hands play with your baby hairs. You shuffle on your feet a little trying to get comfortable since your hands are still handcuffed behind your back.

“Mommy, why is Mama being taken away.” Scarlett pulls away from you, a few tears in her eyes, to look at Rose who is hugging Lizzie’s leg; Lizzie running a hand soothingly through Rose’s hair as she looks down to her.

“They aren't honey. It is just one big misunderstanding.” Scarlett wipes her eyes turning to the rookie;s colleague who never gave his name. “She’s my wife. You can let her go.”

“Wife?!” The men all question at the same time looking between you and Scarlett.

“Yes, wife. Hi Lizzie.” You turn your attention to Rose and her godmother who has lifted Rose up onto her hip allowing the girl to bury her head in her neck.

“Hey Y/n. Good to see you still like surprising your wife with getting home early.” Lizzie smiles as she watches as the rookie starts to uncuff you. “I would say it’s an odd way to catch up but I seem to remember bailing you out before this too.”

“It was one time. Are you really going to hold it over me the rest of my life?” Lizzie giggles with a nod.

“You attacked Santa, in the mall on christmas eve.” You quickly shake your head.

“Firstly it wasn’t Santa it was an elf. Secondly, thank you for bailing me out. Thirdly, the elf deserved it, he jumped at me out of nowhere and didn’t expect me to punch him square in the face.” Your arms fall to your side as they are finally released from the cuffs and you give the rookie a small smile in thanks.

“Silly elf.” You smile as Rose removes her head from Lizzie’s neck and Scarlett rolls her eyes at you all.

“That’s right. Silly elf. Now is your godmother going to put you down so I can cuddle you or am I going to have to chase her again.” Lizzie quickly kisses Rose's forehead and puts her back down on the ground.

“Sorry sweet girl, but your mama can be very scary when chasing after you.” Rose looks up at Lizzie who is keeping her eyes on you to make sure you don’t run after her.

“Excuse me children, I am still right here.” You take your eyes off Lizzie to look down to your wife with a wide smile.

“Surprise.” You say in a squeaky voice turning your body to try and avoid Scarlett's hand, but she is too quick and hits your shoulder before you can even react. “Ow! What did I do?”

“You got arrested.”

“Because your friends wouldn’t listen to me.” Scarlett looks to the man before quickly walking over to each of them and giving each of their shoulders a smack.

While Scarlet is dealing with the men, Rose runs over to you and you bend down to catch her in your arms, your hands lifting her closer to you by her armpits. Rose's arms wrap around your neck and you quickly stand up, her legs wrapping around your waist to keep her in place. You move your arms under her legs and butt to keep her up as she buries her head into your neck; her body shakes slightly against yours.

"Honey what's wrong?" You start to bounce her up and down gently, swaying side to side when you feel a few tears drip onto your neck.

"I thought I was never going to see you again mama.” Rose hiccups a few times as she tries to calm herself down as you wipe away a few tears with your thumb that are rolling down her cheek. “I thought the police were going to take you away.”

“Nothing will ever take me away from you sweet angel.” Rose removes her head from your neck holding out her pinky finger in front of your face.

“Pwomise?” Her bottom lip juts out into a pout as her still tear filled eyes look up to yours.

“I promise.” You link your pinky with hers and kiss the top of your thumb as Rose does the same.

“Okay, okay. This is sweet and all, and I love you so much but what are you doing here?” Scarlett’s voice brings your attention to the other people around you as she stands on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on your cheek.

“Well I came to surprise you on your birthday. The trip was a bust so I had to leave early. I did try to get here before the party started so I could avoid….this.” You nod your head to the men who are still looking at you dumbfounded. “But traffic didn’t allow it, and me being me thought I could just sneak upstairs. I was wrong.”

“Well you’re home now and that is all that matters. Let's all head back inside and open a fresh bottle of wine, and enjoy the rest of the evening.” Scarlett rubs at her eyebrows, a sign you know means she is stressed or overwhelmed.

“Of course my love.” You give her a quick peck on the lips before walking back up the steps to your house, Rose still clinging onto you.

“Thank you officer and sorry for the inconvenience.” You chuckle to yourself when you hear Scarlett scolding the boys once more and seemingly ignoring their comments about how she said to phone them if there is a stranger in her house.

♤♡◇♧

You and Scarlett are curled up on the love seat, Scarlett sat sideways in your lap with her head resting on your shoulder. Her fingers tracing softly at your collarbone as she smiles to herself. You look down to her, pressing a small kiss to her forehead before looking over to Lizzie who has Rose in her lap. The young girl starts to fall asleep in her arms as Lizzie soothingly rugs her back up and down.

Lizzie gives you a small smile, once she sees Rose’s tired state, standing up from the couch, holding Rose on her right hip and making her way over to the two of you. She leans down so you and Scarlett can both kiss Rose goodnight, you move your hand to place a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Goodnight sweet angel.” Rose rubs her eyes with the back of her hand as she smiles tiredly at you.

“Goodnight mama.” She barely manages to whisper out before looking at Scarlett. “Night mommy.”

“Goodnight honey, we will see you in the morning.” Scarlett places one last kiss on Rose's forehead before Lizzie stands back up straight.

“Come one Rose bud, let's get you to bed.” Lizzie whispers softly rubbing her thumb over the tired girl's cheek.

“Can you read me a bedtime story?” Lizzie smiles brightly, nodding her head.

“Of course I can, honey.” Lizzie plants a small kiss on Rose’s forehead before walking out of the living room and heading upstairs, you turn to look at the man as they all sit up straighter now Rose is no longer present.

“Okay so explain everything because I thought you were dating that colin dude. And Rose calls you mama as well meaning you must have been together a while, because I know for a fact she is from when Scarlett was with Romain.” Chris scrunches his brows as you and Scarlett look at each other frowning at his statement.

“You thought I was dating Colin? And yes Romain is Rose’s dad, but Y/n has been a better parent to her than he ever will be and she chooses to call her mama; so that's the end of that conversion right now!” Scarlett looks at you then at Chris.

“Well yeah there were all those articles last year of you out with Colin for months on end. I think it's amazing that she sees Y/n as a parent figure.” Robert points out before sending Chris a glare for even bringing up the whole mama thing.

“He was helping us with the wedding. He was my best man.” Scarlett easily explains as she looks up at you and gives the underside of your jaw a kiss; she always gets very sappy whenever you talk about your wedding.

“He was her best man. Lizzie was my maid of honour.” You add on with a smirk as the men once again look between each other.

“Why did Lizzie get to know, and not us?” Jeremy complains as he takes a sip from his beer.

“Because Lizzie is family….. And she caught us kissing in my trailer and trying to make up an excuse wasn’t going to work but she promised not to say anything.” Scarlett turns her head slightly to look at the men who are all rubbing at their foreheads trying to wrap their heads around it.

“How long has she known for?” You attention once again back on Chris who seems to think he is Sherlock Holmes getting to the bottom of a murder mystery case with all the questions.

“Since we officially started dating basically.” You reply nonchalantly with a shrug.

“And when was that exactly?”

“31st of October 2017.” Everyone's attention turns to Lizzie who is leaning against the doorframe. “At a halloween party I had organised. Had to sell the bed once I found out how they had made it official once I caught them in their trailer 2 weeks later.”

“Lizzie!” You throw a cushion from the love seat at the woman, who is laughing as she takes in the faces of disgust from the men, hitting her square in the face but it only causes her to laugh more.

“I’m joking but they did make it official at the party after seeing each other for most of the month.”

“I thought you were going to read Rose a bedtime story?” Scarlett mumbles quietly as she moves to bury her head in your neck, a telltale sign she is getting tired.

“She was out like a light before I could even put her into bed. I would have been reading to the spirits if I did.” You roll your eyes pulling Scarlett onto your lap more as Lizzie squeezes next to you on the love seat putting Scarlett’s legs on her lap.

“What’s this?” Robert points between the three of you, you and Lizzie shrug at his question as Scarlett mumbles quietly.

“She's like a third limb, can't get rid of her. She sticks around even though she can be a pain in the ass.” You laugh when Lizzie hits your shoulder in reply to your statement and you hit her thigh in retaliation.

"She loves me really, she just has a weird way of showing it." Lizzie pokes her tongue out at you before looking at Scarlett with a soft smile.

"Right although I have enjoyed meeting you all, apart from the whole getting arrested part, I think we should call it a night. This one needs her beauty sleep otherwise she is a monster in the morning and my wife needs my cuddles." Once again Lizzie hits your shoulder with a look of fake hurt.

"She is not lying Liz, you are a right monster if you don't get your 8 to 10." You stifle a laugh as Scarlett mumbles into your neck, looking to Lizzie to see if she goes to hit her but you scoff when Lizzie simply shrugs her shoulders.

"Yeah, yeah whatever. I will make sure the boys get their ubers but I'm staying the night." Lizzie lays her head on your shoulder and you move a hand to weave through her hair smiling when you feel her relax against you.

"Of course. That's why you have your own room here you know." Lizzie giggles as you look back to the men who all still look very confused.

"So is this like one of those throuple things that the kids are doing nowadays?" Robert deadpans and you and Lizzie look at each other, with scrunched nose and a slight look of disgust, before looking back at the boys.

"You seriously don't know who she is?" Lizzie eyes look to the three men in front of her who all shake their heads, before looking back at you in silent question.

"Might as well get all the secrets out." Lizzie’s eyes search yours as you give her a soft smile and a nod so she turns to look back at the boys.

"She's my younger sister." You press your lips together trying to hold in a laugh as once again the men's jaws drop.

"Wait, she's an olsen?"

"Well I'm a Johansson now, but yes I'm an Olsen."

"Okay, okay. One more question and we will leave you all alone." You nod at Jeremy for him to continue. "How did you two meet?"

"All thanks to Lizzie. She invited me to set one day, and I was excited to see this side of her life. I tried my best to stay away from the Olsen name because I knew I wasn't ever going to go into acting so I didn't want any spotlight on me. Anyway, she was in Scotland doing that scene with Scarlett, Paul and Chris. I was over there for a work thing so it was the perfect opportunity. I was watching the whole scene in the train station go down and when they called cut Lizzie ran over to me all excited and rambling on about how fun it was to shoot. As we were making our way back to her trailer we bumped into Scarlett and the rest is history."

"Wait, how did I not spot you while we were in Scotland?" Chris rubs his hands down his face in slight frustration.

"It kind of hurts you don't remember me Christopher." You put your hand to your chest in fake hurt and his eyes shoot to yours with a wide smile.

"Holy shit you the food truck girl!" You smile with a nod, ignoring all the questioning looks as Chris chuckles to himself.

"Baby I want to go to bed." You turn your attention to your wife who has turned her whole body so she is leaning against you completely and you send the boys an apologetic smile.

"Okay. That's enough for tonight. We can do this again some other time but Scarlett is almost asleep and I'm exhausted from a day of travelling." You slowly stand up wrapping your arms underneath Scarlett's butt to keep her against you. "It's been lovely meeting you all. Good night."

A chorus of goodnights echo around the quiet living room as you make your way out. Scarlett's arms wrap around your neck a little more, her head buried in your neck and she takes a deep breath. You smile to yourself when you feel her place small gentle kisses across the skin of your neck, nothing sexual about the act just simply showing affection.

"I love you." You feel it on your neck more than you hear her muffled voice but it makes you smile all the same as you start climbing the stairs.

"I love you too cuddle bug." She giggles at the name, as she wiggles about in your hold trying to get closer to you.

You make your way into the bedroom, the door already open, not even turning around as you kick it shut with the back of your foot. You make your way to the bed, bending down until Scarlett’s butt is on the mattress and you untangle yourself from her Koala like hold on you. You bite your lip to hide a giggle when Scarlett’s eyes flutter open and a pout makes its way onto her lips.

“Why did you put me down? I was comfy.” Scarlett complains tiredly as she rubs at her eyes with the back of her hand as your hands move to rest on her knees.

“We need to get you changed. You can’t sleep in your jeans and blouse.” Scarlett only nods as she moves her arms above her head and you raise a brow at the action but don’t question it.

Instead, you stand up and undo the few buttons at the top of her blouse before moving your hands down to the hem of the item and slowly pull it up and over her head; chucking it on the floor to deal with later. You snake a hand around her back unclipping her bra with one hand as the other tilts her chin upwards so you can plant a few kisses on her forehead causing her to smile tiredly up at you.

“Which shirt do you want?” Scarlett flops backwards onto the bed as you walk over to the chest of drawers opening up your drawer, when you don’t hear a reply you look over your shoulder to see Scarlett already looking at you. “What’s got you staring at my love?”

“Just you. I just love you so much. I’m sorry you had to meet my friends this way.” You smile softly as you shrug your shoulders.

“I love you too darling, and it’s okay we were planning on telling them soon anyway. Today was just very chaotic.” Scarlett hums with a nod, her eyes flicking from left to right as you hold up two of your button up shirts.

“The blue one.” You put the other shirt away and make your way back in front of Scarlett.

You chuck the top over her face, a cute giggle passing her lips as her tired arms try to pry it off. You laugh as she struggles to pull it away from her face, the collar of the shirt stuck on her messy bun. Leaving her to struggle with the top, you unbutton her jeans and start pulling them off of her legs which she starts kicking out when the jeans get stuck on her ankles. You stumble backwards a few steps as the jeans suddenly become free from being trapped around her ankles and you are blinded at the same time as the top that was stuck on her head is now around yours not missing the laugh Scarlett lets out.

You drop the jeans onto the floor, and with ease remove the top from your head earning a middle finger from Scarlett. You roll your eyes as you take a few steps forward, ignoring the fact she just flipped you off, holding out your hand for Scarlett to grab onto. Once she lazily hits her hand into yours, you hoist her body back up so she is once again sitting up and you start to put her arms through the sleeve holes of the shirt. You crouch back down in front of her and start doing a few of the buttons up so it will stay on her in the night but not too many buttons that it feels like she cant move in it.

“Knock, knock.” Lizzie’s voice is muffled through the door as she lightly taps on the wood, the fact she also says the words makes you and Scarlett giggle.

“Come in.” Scarlett replies as she starts to shuffle her body up to the top of the bed as Lizzie opens the door with a soft smile on her face.

“All the men are off in their uber’s so should be getting home safe. I just came to say goodnight to the two of you.” Lizzie shuffles over to you, wrapping her arms around your torso and pulling you into a small hug.

“Goodnight sis.” You mumble quietly once she pulls away from the embrace , you make your way into the ensuite to get changed as Lizzie makes her way to the bed.

You quickly get changed out of your day clothes and into a baggy shirt knowing Scarlett will be craving the skin on skin contact. When you enter the bedroom you see Lizzie practically laying on top of Scarlett both of them falling into a light sleep. You roll your eyes making your way over to the bed hitting Lizzie’s foot with your hand causing her to jolt awake sending a scowl your way when Scarlett groans and grumbles about being woken up….again.

“Firstly, she is my wife, get your own Lizzie. Secondly, you need to clean your teeth my love. Thirdly, she is my wife so go cuddle someone else.” Lizzie rolls her eyes as she stands up from the bed, flipping you off before leaving the room and quietly shutting the door behind her, as Scarlett rolls out of bed so she can go into the ensuite and do her nightly routine.

You climb into the bed while you wait for Scarlett to be done, almost falling asleep with how long she takes. Or it could be because you’re jetlagged and feel like you could sleep for the rest of your life. Either way you barely wake up when you feel the bed dip, before feeling Scarlett lay herself gently on top of you.

Her legs tangle with yours as her head rests on your chest, one of her hands rests at the side of your torso while the other is placed on top of your collarbone; her finger tracing along the prominent bone. You smile when you feel her press a kiss onto your clothed chest before her body sinks into yours. Just before you can finally succumb to your sleep Scarlett’s soft voice fills your ears, your hand instinctively moving to the side of her abdomen at her words.

“When do you want to start telling people that Rose isn’t going to be an only child any more?”

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

#scarlett johansson #scarlett johannsson x reader #scarlett johansson x you #scarlett johansson x y/n #scarlett johansson fluff

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weirdmorefics · 9 months

Note

LOL I totally can imagine Crowley teasing Aziraphale about his doppelganger being Y/N's dog! GHCJNCFZZHGNCGKCNJGDSJ

Aziraphale's Secret Twin

Pronouns- They/Them

Word Count- 742

Summary- The reader's dog sitter cancels last minute so they are forced to bring their bichon frise to the bookshop.

Aziraphale x Reader x Crowley (can be read as platonic or romantic)

Y/n was running late for their job at the bookshop which wasn't all that unusual because they always stopped for coffee at Give Me Death Or Give Me Coffee first. However, this time was a little different as they had everything ready to go just anxiously waiting for the dog sitter to pick their baby up. Unfortunately, the sitter called just minutes after their usual arrival time that they had the flu and could not make it. Y/n assured them it was fine and wished them a quick recovery.

Y/n squatted down to their dog's eye level, " Now what are we going to do with you today Mr." They ruffled their dog's fluffy head of the dog as the dog smiled widely back.

Y/n only saw one option they would simply bring their dog with them but hide it in their bag. Y/n couldn't possibly leave the pupper alone all day not with the dog's major separation anxiety and tendency to get into the trash.

Y/n tried to walk into the bookshop as quietly as possible but of course, the bell on the door immediately alerted Aziraphale to their presence.

"Good morning, Y/n" He smiled and welcomed them in. "I was thinking the bookshelves could really use a good dusting today," He says motivated and annunciating the word dusting by swinging his arm up.

Y/n felt the dog go to peek its head out of the bag at the new voice and they quickly try to settle the dog lower into the bag with their hand. Crowley who was sitting on the sofa observing your entrance made note of this action.

"Y/n?" Crowley questions you slightly tilting his sunglasses down his nose.

"Yes," Y/n blinked up at Crowley innocently fluttering their eyelashes.

"Did something just move in your bag?" He continued to question despite your cute efforts to distract him.

Y/n chuckles and makes an awkward excuse, "Maybe you need some prescription sunglasses."

Crowley and Aziraphale can always tell when Y/n is lying well most everyone can tell when they are lying because simply put Y/n is the worst liar in the galaxy. Aziraphalee gives Y/n a questioning look and Crowley slowly stalks towards Y/n like they are a deer that will spook at any sudden movements.

Y/n is quite literally back into a corner due to backing up into a wall due to Crowley's advances. Y/n yelps in shock when their back hits the wall and their dog instantly peeks its fuzzy little head out of the bag to check on their owner. Y/n facepalms at themselves how did they seriously think they were going to hide a dog from an angel and a demon for a full workday.

"Y/n, what is that?" Aziraphale points to the dog.

Y/n profusely apologizes, "I am so sorry! My dog sitter last minute canceled and I couldn't bear leaving my little baby at home all day." Y/n then lifts the little snowball dog from their bag and rubs it against their cheek.

Crowley rubs his chin in thought, "You know what Angel the little thing looks remarkably similar to you."

Aziraphale looks a tad offended putting a hand to his chest, "How does a dog look like me?"

Y/n nods looking between the dog and Aziraphale, "You know what I see it!"

Aziraphale's eyes narrow, "You do not Y/n!"

Crowley looks at Y/n, "I think it's the hair."

Y/n nods vigorously, "It's the fluffiness and curly cues! Now that I think of it they even act alike! My puppy is a true food connoisseur who only likes fancy expensive food. My puppy is super upbeat and always smiling like Aziraphale!" Y/n seems to get more and more excited as Crowley and they come up with more similarities.

"Fine, I must admit the hair is similar but do not compare my smile to a dog's smile." Aziraphale sighs.

Crowley smirks, "Don't worry angel no one has as cute of a smile as you."

To the untrained eye, no one would notice Aziraphale's slight blush and look to the side but Crowley who had known Aziraphale from the beginning, and Y/n who caught on quite quickly from working daily with the pair noticed instantly. Both had to fight back the huge smirks on their faces but both failed miserably.

#aziraphale x reader #good omens fanfiction #good omens x reader #good omens fic #good omens drabble #crowley x aziraphale #aziracrow #aziraphale imagine #crowley x y/n #crowley x reader

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lattaeyongs · 2 years

Text

two tickets to paradise (sjn)

original gif

↳ pairing: johnny suh x reader

↳ word count: 14.8k

↳ genre: best friend!johnny, vacation (resort)!au, summer!au, fake dating!au, best friends to lovers!au, fluff, slight angst

↳ summary: after your fiance leaves you at the altar, you’re devastated – but not devastated enough to cancel your honeymoon. instead, your best friend johnny accompanies you, and you start thinking that your fiance wasn’t right for you after all.

↳ warnings: sexual tension, sexual inuendos, nudity

↳ a/n (1): loosely based on a hallmark movie with the same name!

It was supposed to be the best day of your life. It’s the day that many little girls dream of. Weddings were supposedly chances to twirl around in a pretty dress and walk down the aisle with everyone watching you be united with the love of you life who would be there for you through sickness and health. It was the day that all eyes were on you.

All eyes were on you, but not for those reasons. Today was the day that you were jilted at the altar, by the man you thought loved you. Months of meticulous planning just evaporated into thin air. Days spent picking napkin colors, addressing invitations, and touring venue options were all for naught.

It’s like a gaping pit in your stomach erupted when you were arm-in-arm with your father at the end of the aisle, and Qian Kun wasn’t standing there with a lovestruck gaze pinned on you as he anticipated a fulfilling effect of married life. You thought you were dreaming, that maybe if you blinked a few times, your fiance would just appear from thin air.

That you wouldn’t be living the most embarrassing moment of your life because of him.

The guests’ heads were turned to you, their eyes filled with pity. They all waited a couple of minutes before saying anything. Then, that’s when the murmuring began. The pleasant summer sunshine now felt like blades stabbing your skin. All right. Maybe Kun is just late, that’s all. He just got caught up in downtown traffic as he was trying to make it to the venue – a historic park near your beloved childhood home, and the venue is decorated with beautiful, lush flowers. Any moment now, he would run up to the altar, his hair windswept in a way that only he can pull off, and he would smile sheepishly before getting ready to make a vow to be true to you and to you only.

That never happened.

These few moments of tension between you, your father, and the guests felt like an eternity.

Kun isn’t going to show up, and not because of traffic, but because he doesn’t want to marry you.

It’s as if the world is melting around you as tears start to fall from your eyes. The greens, reds, oranges, and blues from the guests’ outfits and the wedding decor all swirl together, and you unhook your arm from your father’s as you run out of the wedding venue. Your father wants to pursue you, and you can tell that from the way he calls your name, but you don’t turn back to look back at him. You don’t listen to the audible gasps and the murmurs increasing in volume, all you can think about is running. Grabbing the hem of your lacy dress in an attempt to maneuver yourself through the gardens, you look for places you can hide, places where no one is going to find you, places where you wish you could just melt away from the world.

How are you ever going to live this down? How are you ever going to see anyone again? They’re going to think of you as Y/N, the poor girl whose fiance decided last minute that he didn’t want to marry her.

You cry. You have a good cry where wailing sobs slip out of your throat, until your throat feels raw, which is exactly how your heart is feeling. With how your head drops to your hands to block out any semblance of light, your makeup smudges in your palms, but you don’t care. Why should you? If Kun didn’t want to marry you, then who would?

Your cries turn more silent, where tears slip onto your cheeks without warning and fall onto your lap. In the sunlight, they look like little diamonds.

You sit in silence for a while, the rustling of the trees, the chirping of birds, and the quacking of ducks being your only company when you hear approaching footsteps. You quickly try to rub your eyes. You’re used to the occasional runner taking a jog at this part since only the historic gardens near a beautiful seventeenth-century mansion serve as the venue for your wedding, not the rest of the park, filled with trails and nature for others to enjoy. You looked out of place at this duck pond by a walking trail, in your white wedding dress sporting dirt stains during the time you’re sitting on a gray, dusty concrete bench, but you tried to make yourself seem a little bit presentable. You would only look at joggers or people walking their dogs for a couple of seconds before they can notice your red-rimmed eyes.

But the footsteps don’t belong to a random person just minding their life. They belong to your oldest friend, Johnny Suh.

Johnny’s hair is parted to the side of his heart-shaped head, clearly washed and gelled for the occasion. His suit is a crisp gray, the sheen like morning dew, and you have good reason to believe that it’s designer. He’s wearing pointed Aldo shoes as he approaches you at the bench, and now you can see the sheen on his forehead, from sweat as the sun beat down on him while he tried to find you. He doesn’t say anything, only offering a smile. For him, it’s of relief that he’s found you in this four-hundred-something acre historic park.

“What are you doing here?” You ask bluntly.

“I was in the area,” Johnny says innocently.

You snort. “Did my parents put you up to this?” Right now, you didn’t want to see anyone who was at that wedding. You can already feel the embarrassment creeping up your cheeks the longer Johnny is here – the thought of facing your family and friends after this fiasco made your heart climb to your throat.

“No,” He says simply. “I remembered that this was your favorite place to come after school. You always liked coming here and thinking.” You’re surprised that Johnny remembers this about you when high school was almost a decade ago.

“Your sister wanted to come with me,” he says. You perk up at the thought of your sister. Oh, your sweet sister Iris. You can already feel yourself comparing yourself to her. Here she was, with her husband of six years and her son, watching you get abandoned at the altar. How lovely.

“I told her that you needed some space. That too many people shouldn’t try to come and console you.” You’re thankful for the courtesy.

“And that’s why you’re here? To console me?” You ask. The word ‘console’ stung you. It had a connotation of pity. If there was anything you wanted less right now was pity.

Johnny almost laughs. “Console you? I know you better than that. I came here to make sure you didn’t start talking to trees.” For the first time after the wedding disaster, you smile genuinely. You’re notoriously known with your close family and friends for talking to yourself – but it wasn’t just murmuring to yourself what you needed to get done that day; you would talk to yourself or to inanimate objects as if you were talking to another person. You’ve been doing it since you were a child, talking to your dolls as if they could contribute to the conversation, but you never grew out of it.

It was times like this that you were grateful to have a friend like Johnny, a friend who could make the worst situations seem like they have a silver lining.

“It’s just,” you start sniffling. “I thought that Kun loved me. That he wanted to be with me forever,” you say softly. Johnny’s eyes were full of compassion and understanding.

“I’m starting to wonder if I pushed him into this,” you think out loud. “I mean, I proposed to him, I was the one that always prompted him about the wedding planning, I was the one carrying most of the weight when it came to this wedding.”

“That’s a bad sign. At least when it comes to men.” You look at Johnny stunned. You would have expected him to say something like ‘oh no, it wasn’t your fault’ or ‘Kun is an idiot,’ the usual things that people would say if someone they knew got jilted at the altar. But Johnny was your oldest friend, and instead, he gives you honesty.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“Men are flighty creatures. They have to be the ones who prompt you when they are ready to put down the roots.”

You sigh. “Thanks for taking me back to 1950,” you snort.

“But am I wrong?” Johnny asks pointedly. “Human nature has fundamentally changed very little in the past seventy years,” Johnny reflects thoughtfully.

You swallow, hard. “I guess I wanted to be married like Iris. She has such a happy life with Jay that I thought maybe I could have a life like that,” you say, a small hint of desperation in your voice. “After all, Iris did get married at around this age.” You say.

“There’s no point in being married,” Johnny says, “if it’s not with the right person.”

“You’re right, you’re so right,” you say. “I just feel so stupid for being so blind-sighted when it was all in front of my face.” Silent sobs choke the rest of any words you have in your throat, and Johnny takes your hand in his. The heat of his hand is soothing and warm.

His voice has nothing but kindness in it now. “It’s not your fault.” Here it is. “Sure you didn’t notice the signs, but it doesn’t mean that you ever deserved this. What Kun did was unacceptable, no matter if you silently pressured him into this or not,” Johnny says. Despite his voice being kind, there’s reason in it.

“To top it all off,” you say, heaving a huge sigh, “I spent so much money. Thousands of dollars just,” you make a whistling sound. Since you did most of the planning, you were also paying a significant portion of the wedding expenses. You earn a good salary, but you didn’t like wasting money.

“Did you pay for the whole wedding?” Johnny asks, surprised.

“No, but I paid for a lot of things. The florists, musicians, invitations, food. Kun paid for the venue and the cake. And obviously, I paid for this dress,” you gesture to the lacy dress that hugged your figure. The dress was four figures.

“There still might be a way to salvage something from this wedding,” Johnny looks like he is in thought, and you look at him, curious.

“What do you mean?”

“What about the honeymoon? Did you pay for that?” Johnny asks, rapidly firing those questions at you.

“Yeah I did –” You groan. You paid for an all-inclusive resort on Jeju Island along the beach. You always wanted to go to Jeju Island, after going on a business trip with Kun to South Korea, where you took a ferry to the island and spent a day on those white, sandy beaches.

“What’s wrong?” Johnny asks, concern in his expression.

“The all-inclusive resort I booked in Jeju Island for mine and Kun’s honeymoon is non-refundable,” you say. You bring the palm of your hand to your forehead dramatically, causing a loud ‘smack’ to resonate in the air.

You were such an idiot. Why on Earth would you book anything that was non-refundable? But then again, you didn’t think you would ever cancel your honeymoon. You thought that the limousine that you booked after the reception would whisk you away to the airport.

Oh, God. The limousine. You still haven’t canceled it yet.

“That’s what I was thinking,” Johnny says. “Most resorts are non-refundable. What if you go on your honeymoon by yourself?”

You’re practically struck dumb with this idea. Going on your honeymoon alone?

“Are you insane?” You ask Johnny. “I’m going to be surrounded by married couples and feel sorry for myself,” you say.

“Why not?” Johnny asks. “You spent the money. And the resort is all-inclusive. It doesn’t matter if Kun doesn’t show up. The only money you would lose is Kun’s airfare.”

What Johnny said had a point. Everything is paid for in a lump sum in an all-inclusive resort for all the amenities that you have access to, so it didn’t really matter if Kun didn’t come.

“I don’t know Johnny,” you say, knitting your fingers over your lap. “This sounds like a crazy idea.”

“Since when have you walked away from crazy ideas?” Johnny asks, more rhetorically. “That’s not the Y/N I know. The Y/N I know takes her own path and never feels sorry for herself. She doesn’t care what anyone thinks, and she doesn’t care if something sounds crazy.”

You laugh. “Very nice monologue,” you say. You stand up. Johnny looks surprised at your sudden burst of energy. “You know what? I think I’ll do that. After all, I spent the money,” you reason, echoing Johnny slowly.

“One more thing,” you say. “Do you want to come with me? You were the one who suggested the idea in the first place. Plus,” you smile. “I don’t want Kun’s plane ticket to go to waste.”

Johnny stands up. His tall figure towers over you as he smiles with excitement. “Of course, I’ll come. I want to spend quality time with my best friend. We haven’t had much of it in a long time.” Johnny notes. With your working lives, it’s hard for you both to carve time into your busy schedules to see each other.

A honeymoon with your best friend? That was the last thing you ever thought would happen.

Instead of canceling the limousine, you called for it to pick you up at Johnny’s parents’ house, where he was staying for the week for your wedding. You took a ride with Johnny in his black Audi with your luggage that you already packed that was full of skimpy clothes and lingerie. You didn’t have much use for those items anymore, but you had a good few pairs of shorts, swimsuits, T-Shirts, and a couple of appropriate blouses; you didn’t have enough time to unpack those items (and you didn’t want to just leave it at the wedding venue or give it to your family), so you decided that your skimpy clothes and lingerie would just have to make the journey to Jeju Island with you.

Twenty minutes have passed, and you pull up into his parents’ driveway. The limo would pick you both up in two hours, which Johnny said was good enough time for him to pack.

Johnny is in the bathroom, changing and showering to wash off the gel from his hair. You can hear the water running through the thin walls of his adjoining bedroom. You take this as a chance for you to change out of your wedding dress and into a green blouse and jeans shorts, wash the makeup off your face, and undo the complicated hairstyle the stylist arranged in the main upstairs bathroom down the hall.

You can feel the thought of your heart pounding at the spontaneity of this vacation. You have never done something like this in your whole life, and you can’t think of a lot of people who have done this either. Life is too short, and you’re not gonna spend even a day feeling sorry for yourself because Kun didn’t have the courage to tell you that he didn’t want to marry you.

Suddenly you hear the phone ring – your phone. The familiar notes hit your eardrums comfortingly, and you look to see the caller ID: your sister, Iris. Taking a deep breath, you answer the phone.

“Hello?” You ask. For some reason, your voice feels slightly shaky.

“Y/N?” Iris asks. You can hear the sound of relief in her voice.

“Yeah?” You ask.

You can hear a few more people (two more people) murmuring in relief. The only people it can be are your parents.

“Oh my goodness, where are you? Are you okay? I knew I shouldn’t have listened to Johnny and not pursued you –”

“Iris,” you say. Calling her name made her stop. “I’m fine, really.”

“Where are you?” She asks again. “You got us so worried with the way you ran off like that.”

“I’m fine,” you say again. “I’m at Johnny’s house.” Gasps.

“What are you doing there?” Iris asks, pressing for more information.

“Hanging out,” you say casually. It feels like you’re in high school, sneaking off to hang out with friends when it’s well over your curfew.

“You could have at least told us!” Iris exclaims. “You had us worried sick!” Iris takes a deep breath. “When are you coming home?”

You pause. The only people who know about your honeymoon plan are you and Johnny. You chew on your lip. “About that. You know my honeymoon?”

“That you’re going to cancel since you’re not going with Kun?”

You take a deep breath, your blood rushing through your veins. “So I’m not actually going to cancel it.” You hear three collective gasps.

“What do you mean?” Iris asks.

“I paid money for it, and it’s an all-inclusive resort. It doesn’t matter if Kun doesn’t come with me.”

“But what does that have to do with Johnny?” Iris asks.

You swallow. “Johnny’s coming with me.”

At this, your parents clamor in confusion. You can hear Iris take her mouth away from the speaker to address your parents. “Mom, Dad? Can I have a moment alone with Y/N?”

“I guess, honey,” your mother says, resigned. “We’re just glad that she’s okay.” You can hear the floorboards creak, signaling your parents’ exit. But at times, your parents can be nosy and eavesdrop, so your sister takes extra precautions. You can hear Iris walking to a corner and shutting the door. The only room that isn’t crammed with stuff and can fit a human being comfortably is the main floor powder room.

“You’re serious? Like this isn’t a joke?” Iris asks.

“No. I’m going on my honeymoon with Johnny.”

“God, this would have been your dream junior year,” your sister giggles. Your face immediately becomes hot, and you look at the bathroom door, hoping that Johnny didn’t suddenly come out of the shower. Thankfully, you still hear the sound of water running through the paper-thin walls; Johnny is still taking his shower.

“I told you, Iris, it was only a little crush!” You whisper-exclaim.

Iris laughs. “Right.” She doesn’t believe you. “You stared at Johnny with the biggest heart eyes! I had to get you drunk to get it out of you!”

It wasn’t necessarily the way that Iris explained. After you came home for the summer from your fourth and final year of college, your sister thought it was high time to celebrate that you graduated, so she took you to a pub downtown. You both were laughing, having a couple of drinks, and it was your first night trying vodka, and it was strong – you chose to have it neat instead of on the rocks because you wanted the more potent effect. You don’t really remember that night very clearly, but somehow the topic of Johnny came up, and then you finally confessed to her that you had a tiny crush on him back in high school. After all, who didn’t? He’s literally the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. You expressed how confused you were when Johnny wanted to be friends with you, a quiet girl who sat in the back of the classroom and did her work without bothering anyone.

Eventually, you moved on (obviously) and almost married another man. Johnny had a couple of girlfriends in college and one in high school, but nothing panned out; so far, he’s single to the last of your knowledge.

“I can’t believe he never noticed,” Iris laughs.

“Shut up!” You’re laughing a little bit too.

Suddenly the mood of the room becomes more serious. Iris’ voice is clear, her words echoing in your brain.

“Y/N, I’m afraid of what this is going to do to you. What if you fall for him again?”

Silence. Your eyes periodically check the bathroom door before you respond.

“I’m not going to fall for him again,” you say quietly. “I’m over him. I was about to marry another man for God’s sake!”

“Who left you at the altar,” your sister says. The words sting you a little, but you know that your older sister is only looking out for you. “In fact, I would say that this makes you more vulnerable to fall for him again,” Iris reasons.

“Well, I’m not going to,” you say. “That was a long time ago, and I’m a different person now.”

You practically jump from where you’re sitting on Johnny’s bed, and he comes out. He’s only wearing a towel on his lower half. His hair is wet, and he’s shirtless, his dark abs toned. A couple of drops of water fall from his neck and travel to his chest, and you almost have to physically move your head to rip your gaze away from his body to look him in the eye. He smiles a little, pointing to the stack of clothes on his bed. His bathroom is very small, and there isn’t enough room to change inside there, and his closet isn’t very big either.

You laugh, noticing that your phone is at your ear. “Nice talk Iris. I have to go now, but we can talk about your dogs later. Bye!” You make a kissing sound, ending the phone call.

Your voice was a little too high-pitch at the end, and you can’t help but feel that all the saliva in your mouth has dried out, and you’re also parched for words.

“Your sister?” Johnny asks.

“Yeah,” you say, a little too quickly. “She was just wondering where I was.”

“Oh,” Johnny nods, understanding. “Did you tell her?”

You nod. “Yeah. She thinks it’s a bad idea.” You almost want to smack your palm over your mouth, but Johnny looks at you, amused.

“J-Just that b-being around married couples with my best friend would be w-weird,” you try to heroically save.

“Makes sense,” Johnny shrugs his shoulders. “But who cares? Since when did you have to cancel your honeymoon just because your fiance doesn’t show up?” You laugh.

It seems that your gaze is locked into Johnny’s and you can’t look away no matter how much you’re trying and butterflies are flying ferociously in your stomach at the thought that Johnny is wearing nothing under that loosely tied towel and –

“I-I’m gonna go to the other room. You’ve got to change,” you say, gesturing to the towel that is covering his lower half. Johnny is suddenly jolted at the thought that he is wearing almost nothing in front of his best friend, not even swimming trunks.

You scramble to the door, which is only a few steps away, and fumble with the round doorknob. You let yourself out and shut the door. You press your back against the wall, smelling the dinner that Johnny’s parents’ are cooking in the kitchen.

You really hope you weren’t going to prove your sister right.

Johnny opens the door after he finished changing, and he’s wearing shorts and a Hawaiian shirt with a gray sleeveless underneath outlining his chiseled chest. You gulp when you find yourself staring and look back up at Johnny.

“Johnny! Dinner’s ready!” It’s almost four in the afternoon. Johnny’s parents are running the retirement home drill, in which lunches are served this early. It seemed that the older you got, the earlier you wanted dinner served – you were noticing that whenever you stayed with your parents, who served dinner at a comparable time.

“In a minute!” Johnny yells down the stairs. His mother looks up from the last step to see you. “Y/N! How are you feeling? I’m so sorry about the wedding –”

Yes, of course. It would be too much to ask from the universe to try not to run into anyone else that saw you get stood up at the altar. Johnny’s parents were at the front, near your parents, and it’s like they got first-class seats to see the empty altar.

“It’s okay,” you say, a bit more tersely than you would have liked.

“Why don’t you have some food? There’s nothing that a home-cooked meal can’t help,” Mrs. Suh says, a kind, weathered smile on her face.

You nod, pleasantly grinning. “I’d like that very much.”

You walk down the stairs. Johnny’s house is much like you remember seeing it back in high school, minus a few minor changes. The Suhs have repainted the walls and added a few more antique knickknacks that Mrs. Suh loves collecting at local auctions.

The dark wood table, though, looks the same. You sit at the table, with Mr. Suh already digging into his food. Johnny’s parents are from South Korea, having settled in America before Johnny was born. Mrs. Suh, though, never lost her taste for traditional Korean food, and always took the time to make home-cooked Korean food at least once a week.

Today’s meal is rice with potato and beef soup, thick noodles with soy sauce flavoring, and a side of kimchi. You smile graciously at Johnny’s mother, who arranges the small cups and bowls before pouring servings for herself.

“I never understand men who leave their fiances at the altar,” Mrs. Suh starts off. “Just tell them the truth!” You nod, feeling that exact same sentiment.

“I have a cousin whose fiance left her at the altar,” Mr. Suh pipes in. “She was absolutely heartbroken, but she is now living better and said that made her a stronger person.”

“I hope you know Y/N,” Mrs. Suh says, “that you’re like family to us, and that your pain is our pain,” her eyes are round, serious. She extends her hand out, and you take it.

“I don’t think Y/N wants to talk about her wedding anymore,” another voice interjects. Johnny enters the dining room and takes a seat in the empty chair next to you.

“You’re right Johnny. So silly of me,” Mrs. Suh says, shaking her head. “Where is my head?” She clicks her tongue.

The next few minutes are spent in silence, where all four of you are chewing on your food or slurping on noodles.

“I didn’t think you and that Kun were right for each other anyway.” The clatter of chopsticks immediately breaks the lull of the eating sounds. You all look for the root of the words, Johnny’s mother.

“W-What do you mean?” you stutter.

“I always thought you and Johnny should get together.” At these words, Johnny’s eyes are bulging from his head.

“Mom!” Johnny exclaims. Johnny’s father prefers to not get involved with the conversation, still eating his food and pretending there’s silence.

“What?” Johnny’s mother asks. “I thought I should be able to say my piece. You and Y/N have been friends for so long, I’ve been wondering when it’s going to happen.”

You practically start coughing up the noodle broth.

“And by the way, I see that there are suitcases by the door,” Mrs. Suh mentions. From her seat, she can see two suitcases, one of them Johnny’s and the other one yours (he probably must have taken them downstairs before meeting the family for dinner). The bags are almost skillfully hidden by the staircase but not skillful enough to avoid Mrs. Suh’s thorough gaze.

“Are you guys going anywhere?” Both you and Johnny swallow together.

“J-Just on a vacation,” you say nervously.

“What kind of vacation would you have planned so close to your–” Mrs. Suh has a delighted look on her face. “Inhyuck, it’s happening!” If there’s anything that Mrs. Suh isn’t, it’s a slow woman.

“What’s happening?” Johnny’s father asks, now forced to be a part of the conversation.

“The honeymoon. Johnny’s going with Y/N!” Mr. Suh looks surprised.

“Well, it’s not really a honeymoon anymore–” you manage to say, but Mrs. Suh is not interested in letting you talk.

“This is so exciting!” Mrs. Suh continues. “What have you two planned?”

“Well, it’s an all-inclusive resort, so I guess just relax?” You shrug your shoulders. You look at Johnny who nods.

“That’s wonderful!” Mrs. Suh looks ecstatic. “Hopefully, it will give you the chance to see what’s destined for you both.”

Johnny rolls his eyes. “Mom! Y/N and I are best friends. Nothing’s going to happen between us. Y/N just doesn’t want to waste all the money she spent,” Johnny explains.

“Yeah,” you agree. “There’s nothing going on between us.”

As if on cue, the phone rings. It’s the limo service, and you pick up the phone. As you predicted, it feels like it has been two hours, so it was about time for the limousine to come and pick you up.

“It’s the limo,” you tell Johnny. “The driver’s here.”

“Great,” Johnny smiles. Both you and Johnny stand up, and Mr. and Mrs. Suh wish you both a good vacation. You thank them for the meal, and Johnny tells them that he’s going to call them when they land.

As you exit the quaint home that you grew up coming to multiple times a week, you can’t help but feel a sadness tug at your heart, at the reassurances that Johnny gave his mother that there was nothing between you two.

You’re absolutely sure that you’re over Johnny, and you’ve been over Johnny for years. But why are you disappointed?

The limo ride to the airport is a maximum of thirty minutes, and you planned the ride to be at around the same time that the wedding would have finished and you would be whisked away for your honeymoon, thus your flight time giving you ample time to get through TSA without worries.

So far, your honeymoon is going the exact way that you planned, minus the fact that you were going with your best friend instead of your fiance.

After your suitcases are taken to the baggage claim, you and Johnny are both left with small carry-ons. Yours is a tote slung on your right shoulder while Johnny’s is a backpack.

After an hour, you both board the plane, taking seats next to each other. The twelve-hour plane ride went faster than you thought it would. You and Johnny spend the time sharing earbuds, listening to music, and eventually watching movies together. A little thrill rushes through your veins as you watch comedies together while other people were trying to get some sleep; it starts to become a challenge for you both to keep your laughs quiet without earning the stares of disgruntled, tired passengers.

Eventually, you both start getting tired, and you fall asleep, covering yourselves with the thin, airline blankets that didn’t do much to stop the cold air from piercing your skin and freezing your bones.

You become startled when you hear a voice over the speakers. “Good evening passengers. In fifteen minutes, we’ll be landing at Jeju International Airport. Please turn off all cellular, and electronic devices in preparation for landing. Welcome to Jeju Island!”

You look around yourself with bleary eyes. The whole time you found it difficult to sleep because you didn’t have a pillow. But somehow, you fell asleep and looking next to you, you know the reason why.

Your cheek has been resting on Johnny’s shoulder, and suddenly you feel your face catch fire. Slowly, you notice Johnny’s eyes open, and he looks at you, tired. He had gotten used to the warm feeling of your cheek on his shoulder and missed it a little.

Your faces are unnaturally close. Desperately, you want to say something that doesn’t pertain to this.

“We’re almost here,” you say, rubbing your eyes, moving away as fast as you can with your slow, sluggish body.

The plane lands, and you and Johnny take your carry-ons and exit the plane, into Jeju International Airport.

The lights are bright, and the white walls reflect that light, and it hurts your eyes, compared to the dark airplane you were in for twelve hours.

After picking up your bags at the baggage claim, you and Johnny make your way to the shuttle, which drives you both a few miles before stopping at the resort: Byeolbich Resorts, right along the Jeju Island coastline.

The resort is painted in welcoming pinks and oranges, and you see happy couples holding hands and smiling at one another – you, on the other hand, were keeping a safe two-inch distance from accidentally touching Johnny’s skin.

The woman at the front desk, a woman around your age with long dark hair, is on the phone, but she ends the call with “Thank you for calling Byeolbich Resorts!” after you and Johnny wait for a few moments.

“How can I help you?” The woman asks politely, a pleasant, hospitable smile on her face.

You clear your throat. “I made a reservation.”

“Name, please?” She asks.

You give your first and last name.

“I don’t see you on our list,” the woman says, typing on her computer and scrolling.

Your breath catches in your throat. “I probably put it under another name. Try Qian Y/N,” you say. At the way Johnny stares at the side of your face, you feel your cheeks burn at how embarrassing it was to book a resort under your ex-fiance’s name, as if you’re a thirteen-year-old combining your’s and your crush’s name in a fancy gel pen on your math notebook instead of paying attention in class. The woman smiles at you, clueless to your thoughts.

“Yes Qian Y/N on your honeymoon with your new husband Kun,” She reads from her notes. Her gaze then returns to you and Johnny.

For the sake of keeping this interaction simple, you decide not to correct her, and Johnny thinks the same thing; after all, you were only going to see this woman when you check into the hotel and when you check out two weeks from now.

“Alright. Room 918.” She types something into her computer, and opens a drawer, pulling out two plastic cards; they were to be yours and Johnny’s keycards during your stay. She hands you both keys.

“Would you guys like help with your luggage?” A young voice asks. You look to see a younger, college-age guy with a pleasant look on his face eye yours and Johnny’s luggage. It wasn’t really a lot, but since this boy was offering, you smile, handing him your luggage. Johnny does the same.

You and Johnny are careful not to stand too close together as you enter the elevator with the bellhop, and the elevator dings when you reach the ninth floor. All three of you walk across the hall to room 918. You insert your keycard and open the door.

You’re not so sure why the arrangement of the room is a shock to you.

This is a large suite room like you reserved when you booked the reservation online, but there’s a king-sized bed and a small lounge chair on the other side of the room, which again, was exactly what you booked on the website. When making this last-minute plan to attend your honeymoon and then bring your best friend along, the sleeping situation completely slipped your mind, if you were honest.

“Is there something wrong?” The bellhop asks. You look at him, then at Johnny, then at the bellhop again.

“N-No,” you stutter to the boy. He smiles in relief.

“Good. Then I’ll leave you two newlyweds alone.” He says, with a sly smile. At the implication, your breath catches in your throat.

When the bellhop leaves, you shut the door behind you.

“So the bed,” Johnny notes nervously.

“Yeah,” you say after a while. “I’m sorry, I should have rem–”

“It’s fine,” Johnny insists. “I’ll take the lounge chair.”

“No, that would be so rude of me. After I invited you on this trip,” you say. On the website, you booked the ‘honeymoon suite,’ so there’s not even a lousy futon.

“Are we then just gonna… share the bed?” Johnny asks slowly. The way he sounds, it’s unsure, as if he’s dipping his toe in a cold swimming pool.

“Yeah,” you say, taking in a deep breath. It takes a long time for you to pry your gaze away from Johnny’s. It took you a few moments to respond to Johnny so that you would sound just as unsure about the idea as Johnny – you didn’t want it to seem that you were ready to jump into bed with one of your oldest friends, but at the same time, you didn’t want to sound repulsed either.

Ah, the intricacies of human relationships.

“I’m going to get showered and change,” you say, changing the subject.

“I will too. I-I’ll change in that closet.” Johnny points. You nod.

The bathroom is nothing less than exquisite. There’s a beautiful double vanity made of speckled marble, and there’s a large jacuzzi tub. The shower is wrapped in pristine white tile with a light and jade blue backsplash that makes the white pop out more, and the soaps that were laid out in the engraved soap dish were water lily scented. You loved the feeling of the gentle warm water caressing your skin and the soap felt smooth against your skin, and it got rid of the sweat (and embarrassment) that stuck to your skin.

Before getting into the shower, you were able to find shorts and a loose T-Shirt that was decent enough to be in while your best friend shared your honeymoon suite with you.

Once you come out, Johnny is changed and is sitting on the bed, plugging his charger into the socket next to the bed. He’s sitting perilously on the edge of the bed, a bit uncomfortably, and an idea strikes you. Johnny’s gaze is on you, and you open the covers (which is difficult due to how beds are made in hotels and resorts). You line various pillows in the middle of the bed.

“This is my side, and that’s your side,” you say, a bit harsher than you would have liked.

“Yeah,” Johnny nods vigorously.

As you lie down on the bed, pulling the covers over you, Johnny does the same. For a while, you linger at the edge of the bed, too wary to go too far inside and mess up the barrier. Despite this uncomfortable position, you try to get some sleep, and eventually, sleep gets to you.

No matter how many precautions you took not to destroy the barrier, by morning, the barrier has tumbled over the bed. When you wake up, you’re met with reddish light that tries to bleed through the dark curtains, and… there are arms wrapped around you.

Not just any arms, but Johnny’s arms.

The pillows that made up your barrier are now spread across the floor, completely disregarded and forgotten as Johnny’s arms envelop your resting figure, spooning you. You’re lying on your side, your cheeks against your soft white pillow, and you’re sure what’s happening now is just a dream, a weird dream that you have no idea where it came from.

As carefully as you can, you try to shift your position in bed without disturbing Johnny.

You fail.

Johnny grunts, and wraps his arms around you tighter, moving closer to you. His nose is only a few millimeters away from touching your forehead, and his lips are close.

So damn close.

They twitch a little as Johnny has a pleasant dream, and from this distance, you can study your best friend’s face. You always knew that Johnny was handsome, but this proximity is driving your heart crazy.

His face is a beautiful tan, and any blemishes on his face look ethereal. There are small mustache hairs right above his lip, dark and faint. His sleeping expression is so peaceful that it’s hard to look at anything else but Johnny’s beautiful face, to not admire how wonderfully his features complement each other –

Suddenly, his eyes fly open. You’re about to jump away from him, but Johnny beats you to it. He tries to untangle his arms from around you, and his expression is filled with newfound embarrassment. Now, you both remain on opposite sides of the bed once more, the same position you were early last night, backs straight like sticks.

“I’m going to wash up,” you say. You absolutely hated the feeling of eating or drinking anything with an unclean mouth, so you stand up.

“I’ll do that too,” Johnny says. You both walk in the same direction, to the left where the bathroom door lies, and you and Johnny almost try to head in at the same time. Awkwardly when your arm hits the door frame, Johnny backs up.

“You go first,” he says, gesturing.

You go in, to the vanity farthest from the bathroom door.

You already kept your toiletry bag in the bathroom as you did some light unpacking last night, and you fish around inside after opening the zipper, revealing the toothbrush sealed in a toothbrush bag.

Johnny comes back into the bathroom with his toothbrush and toothpaste, and while brushing your teeth, you both exchange wary glances, trying to avoid any sort of confrontation about the situation from last night.

“I’ll be at the pool if you need me,” you say to Johnny before opening your suitcase and finding your red one-piece swimsuit and a shirt to wear over it. Johnny gives you a thumbs up before turning on his shaving razor.

When you leave the room, key and purse in hand, you get into the elevator and press ‘main floor.’ Once you’re dropped back off to the main floor, you follow the signs to the pool.

It’s a beautiful sunny day outside, and the pool looks just as beautiful, a twinkling turquoise gem. A few couples are in the pool, making out or splashing each other, giggles bubbling on their lips, and there are other couples sitting on the lawn chairs, holding hands, sipping margaritas, and chatting. One thing is for certain – love is in the air.

You heave a huge sigh and find a spot at an empty orange lawn chair. It’s next to a table with an umbrella in the middle. The umbrella is unopened, so you crank the handle, and the umbrella slowly starts expanding.

“Would you like anything, ma’am?” A woman asks. She looks like she works here since she holds an empty silver tray dripping from condensation from the drinks she just served to the couple chatting and holding hands.

“What drinks do you have?” You ask.

“We have a gin-infused strawberry margarita as today’s special,” she informs you.

“I’ll have it,” you smile.

She nods and scurries away to the bar. You stretch your legs to cover the vast extent of the lawn chair and close your eyes.

This wasn’t so bad, you think. Maybe if you could go the whole honeymoon without anyone asking about your fiance, then this wouldn’t be a terrible getaway.

Of course, with the way that Byeolbich Resort was marketed as the perfect getaway for newlywed couples, it would be impossible to avoid that question.

You’re suddenly approached by two people, a man and a woman, most likely a newlywed couple, and the woman waves at you.

“Are these chairs taken?” She asks politely.

“No,” you smile. The man and woman take their seat by the pool, and quietness ensues for a few moments.

“I’m Seulgi. And this is Taemin,” she introduces the both of them. The man, Taemin, waves at you pleasantly.

“I’m Y/N,” you respond.

“And where’s the lucky man? Or woman?” She asks, raising a brow. You smile a little at her peppy attitude so early in the morning.

“Oh, he’s in the room,” you say a little nervously. “He’s just shaving.”

“And you didn’t wait for him so you could have quality time together?” She pesters. For a second you think she’s serious, but she only playfully slaps you on the arm. You’re surprised at her intimacy, at how she treats you like an old friend given that you only met a few minutes ago.

“I’m kidding. Sometimes I need a moment away from this one.” Her gaze for a second rests on Taemin, as her hand shields her lips to pretend she’s telling a secret. You laugh, not particularly because she’s funny but because you’re relieved that she isn’t asking any more questions.

“Y/N!” You hear from afar. From the indoor entrance to the pool from the resort, you see Johnny, waving at you. He’s once again shirtless and he’s wearing blue swim trunks.

His body looks so wonderfully sunkissed that you think your mouth is about to drop open.

“So you’re the hubby?” Seulgi says, smiling. Johnny looks at you quizically for barely a second before smiling at Seulgi; she didn’t notice, thankfully.

“Yep,” Johnny plays along. “Y/N is my wife. We’ve been happily married for a day,” he continues. When he pulls a chair to sit beside you, he grabs your hand and holds it, his knuckles resting against his thigh.

You’re almost caught off-guard with how comforting his hand feels.

Seulgi looks overjoyed. “Congratulations!” She exclaims. “We’ve only been married for a week,” Seulgi gestures to herself and Taemin.

“By the way, I’m Taemin,” Taemin introduces himself to Johnny.

“Johnny,” he says, reaching out to shake Taemin’s hand. Taemin looks a little baffled at the gesture before ultimately taking Johnny’s hand.

“That’s wonderful,” you say, plastering a smile on your face. It’s not entirely fake – you’re happy that Taemin and Seulgi were able to find love together – but the crushing feeling it gives your heart is unreal.

Here were two people who got married and were honeymooning together. They looked so genuinely happy. They didn’t seem to be walking on pins and needles like you were.

“Your drink?” The woman from earlier takes your flute and places it on the table.

“Thank you.” You bow a little, as per Korean tradition.

“Would you guys like anything?” She directs to the rest of the group.

“Some Soju,” Taemin says. “None for my wife though, she’s had more than her fair share for today,” he jokes.

“Hey!” Seulgi whines but makes no move to order a drink for herself.

“Could I have some Bokbunja-ju?” Johnny asks. Korean raspberry wine. You’ve heard of it faintly when Kun would order alcohol at restaurants in Korea.

The woman writes down these orders and goes back to the bar.

“So,” Seulgi starts off. You’re drinking your margarita when she continues again. “Out of all the places you could take your honeymoon in, why Jeju Island?” She asks.

“Well,” you say. “Johnny had a lot of business opportunities in Korea, and one weekend, we went to Jeju Island to soak up the sun at the beaches,” you explain. “Ever since, I’ve loved Jeju Island.” It wasn’t completely a lie. Replace Johnny with Kun, and it’s the same story.

“How wonderful!” Seulgi gleefully claps her hands. “Taemin and I have been coming to Jeju since we were kids,” she looks fondly at her husband. “We were best friends before we became married. Can you believe it?” She asks, not really expecting an answer. “We’re from mainland Korea, from Seoul,” she says.

“I remember it like it was yesterday,” Taemin suddenly says. Seulgi feverishly blushes. “We were in the same dance class. I saw her from across the room, and I instantly knew that I had to be around her.”

“Aww,” you say, trying to gush more emotion into your voice. Yours and Kun’s meeting wasn’t actually that interesting – a couple of friends in college introduced you to him.

You don’t talk to those friends much anymore.

But right now wasn’t the best time for you to be hearing cute love stories while you were still so bitter.

“Speaking of dance classes,” Seulgi says. “There’s a couple’s dance at the west wing tonight. You guys should come.” Her voice sounds very enthused.

“Well, actually, me and Johnny were going to –”

“We’ll come,” Johnny interrupts.

“We will?” You raise a brow at your fake husband.

“Yeah. We will,” Johnny reassures, looking at you before pleasantly smiling at the couple. You gape at him only for a few seconds, before it can become noticeable.

“Great! I guess that’s settled.” Seulgi says.

“Drinks?” You hear a familiar voice, and it’s once again the woman who served you your drink. She hands a drink to Johnny and Taemin, and they thank her graciously.

As you chat with Seulgi and Taemin for a few more minutes, you only pray that they won’t ask anything too personal, or catch on to your secret in some big, dramatic way.

After all, isn’t how all these ‘fake dating’ scenarios end?

Thankfully, you have enough summer dresses in your arsenal that would be formal enough to wear to a dance. Your dress is a cream dress with red leaves, sleeveless, and it comes to almost your knee. Johnny is wearing a nicer shirt and some slacks.

He looks stunning.

You both approach the west wing, and you know it’s the correct location when you can hear loud music bleeding through the walls. Johnny courteously opens the door, and you walk in, to see many couples in nice clothes dancing to the live music. They’re playing lively jazz music, and the saxophone and trumpet music hit your soul.

“Y/N! Johnny!” A voice shouts in the midst of all the noise. It’s Seulgi, and holding her waist is Taemin, who is beaming at his wife.

“Seulgi!” You exclaim. Taemin detaches himself from his wife and they both approach you in the crowded room.

“I love your dress!” You exclaim. Her dress is a light, seafoam green, and it compliments the heels she’s wearing.

“Thank you! I love yours!”

You smile at the compliments. You take a few moments to observe the decor, a dark room lit by fairy lights, and a large panoramic window that shows the sun dipping into the ocean that is a few miles away from the resort.

“Why are you guys standing around?” Seulgi questions. “Dance!” You didn’t even realize that Seulgi and Taemin started dancing to the music while you and Johnny stand awkwardly together.

“What do you say, partner?” Johnny asks. “Can you pleasure me with a dance?” He rephrases, a cheesy smile on his face. You laugh at how he dramatically bows to take your hand, and his hands suddenly land on your waist. You gasp, thanking the loud music for masking the sound, and you feel your body stiffen.

“This feels like prom for adults,” you say as you match Johnny’s lively steps.

“Remember our prom?” Johnny says nostalgically.

“Yeah,” you smile. You and Johnny went to your senior prom together after your best friend offered to take you when you couldn’t find a date and all your other girlfriends had dates. You didn’t want to go so you won’t bother them, but Johnny enthusiastically volunteered because he thought that prom was too important to miss. Even though it’s just overdressed high schoolers in a school gym dancing to ‘The Cupid Shuffle’ and the like, every high schooler should have the experience. After all, it’s the one day that the school gym doesn’t smell like a sweaty sock.

Johnny picked you up, wearing a matching navy-blue bow tie that his mother picked out to your hand-me-down navy blue gown that your sister wore to prom, and you ate at a Mexican restaurant and showed up to prom just as more and more people were arriving. Your heels were digging into your feet, but you didn’t care, just dancing to party music and singing along without a care in the world.

It was the night you were sure that you were in love with Johnny, and you were sure your best friend was never going to like you the same way you liked him. But despite that soul-crushing feeling, you still had fun.

Suddenly a slow song started to come on. You stop twirling and stare awkwardly at Johnny. The DJ speaks into the microphone.

“This is for all you guys in love!”

“I guess we start slow dancing,” you say. Johnny holds you close, and you feel any words you’re going to say die in your throat. You press your cheek against Johnny’s shoulder, careful not to smear any of your foundation on his nice white shirt. Johnny holds you in a way that’s not too loose and not too tight, the two of you moving your bodies in synchronicity to the Korean ballad.

As more and more people stare into their partners’ eyes lovingly or start kissing, your steps start to become mismatched with the beat as you slowly become more uncomfortable. You feel your cheeks heat up as you observe those couples and meet eyes with Johnny again.

Neither of you says anything.

“That’s right folks!” The DJ says. “Now it’s time to get it on!” His voice is expressive as he scans the crowd for couples.

Out of nowhere, the lights from the mechanical moving spotlights land on you and Johnny, the only couple that doesn’t look all lovey-dovey. You harshly gulp at the newfound eyes that were on you.

“Come on, don’t be shy,” the DJ says in good humor. “PDA is allowed here. After all, most of you folks are on your honeymoon.”

“Kiss, kiss, kiss,” Seulgi starts chanting. Taemin follows her with a wide smile on his face, and slowly, other couples start joining their chants.

Finally, both you and Johnny have had enough of all the guests’ goading, so quickly, you press and peck onto Johnny’s lips. He looks frazzled at the gesture, but he tries to keep his cool. You pull away, smiling at the audience that is circled around you both.

“You guys can do better than that!” The DJ sighs.

Johnny leans in, grabbing your waist and pressing you impossibly closer, and smashes his lips against yours. He nibbles your lips gently, and you’re pretty sure that your heart is about to beat out of your chest and move when it hits the dancefloor, but your heart is very much in your chest as you feel the sensation of your cheeks catching on fire as you kiss back, enjoying Johnny’s lips.

Johnny pulls away slowly, as if he’s scared to pull far enough from you that you can gaze into his eyes. But finally, he faces the crowd, smiling, and they cheer. You follow in suit.

When Johnny dropped you home from prom, he gave you a warm hug on your front porch. Not a single kiss was exchanged and the closest you got to ‘couple’ things was taking photos. When the slow dance came, you and Johnny were sitting at a table, resting your legs.

Now, you’re far from prom.

It started when you were a sophomore. Johnny was in your English class, and together, you were supposed to make a utopia based on the principles in Republic by Plato. You needed to get into groups of four. None of your usual friends were in that class, so after asking a random girl if she wanted to be in your group, and another guy approached you to join your group, suddenly Johnny, a guy you saw around your school but didn’t really talk to, asked to partner with you. Dumbstruck, you agreed.

The problem with partnering with random people is that you’re not sure if they’ll do their fair share of the work. For the guy and girl who joined you, it seemed like they were allergic to meeting up or contributing anything to the shared PowerPoint that you created, and Johnny was the only one actually helping out. He was always ready to meet in the library or stay after school, and together, you carried your group to an ‘A’ and wrote scathing reviews of the other members of your group.

You thought it would be a little crush that would dissipate after Johnny went back to his old friends after the project, but he just stuck around. What was just a crush by junior year was you slowly falling in love with your best friend, with the way he was always able to make everything better. He knew what you were thinking before you even said it. He knew how to cheer you up if you did poorly on a test.

Out of all the girls in school, there was no way he could ever fall in love with you. You were certain. At prom, he didn’t ask you to slow dance, and you both rested your feet while sitting at one of the tables in the corner of the room, watching other people slow dance while you squeezed your sore feet. You had it all planned out in your mind that if he would slow dance with you, it showed that he liked you in that sense, and you would finally confess.

Although you didn’t let it show in the final weeks of high school, you were heartbroken. But the physical distance you had going to separate colleges helped you get over him. Eventually, you fell in love with Kun, the Chinese exchange student that your friends introduced you to, and were obviously engaged to him.

Until today, you thought you were completely over Johnny Suh.

Johnny was like a flame – if you got too close, you were going to get burned. It happened once before. But you were careless enough to let it happen again with this honeymoon trip.

You should have listened to Iris because now you were falling for your best friend for the second time, and you’re not sure your heart can handle it again.

For the next few days, neither you nor Johnny mentioned the kiss and pretended that it didn’t happen. You both would wake up next to each other and use the other facilities of the resort. One day, you both went surfing, then on another you went to the beach and built sandcastles, drinking strong Korean alcohol. While things were a little awkward – like how you both wouldn’t stand less than two inches from each other, you still were having a good time despite how you were unexpectedly falling in love with your best friend again.

Seulgi and Taemin raved about the massages at the resort next time you ran into them at the pool where you and Johnny would relax and start working on your tans before you would do anything substantial in the day.

“In order for the masseuse to be the most effective, you need to take off your clothes,” Seulgi informs you both. “Obviously, there’s going to be a towel over your bum, but at least you need to be topless so they can rub the essential oils on your skin, and you need to take off your pants if you want the leg massage. But that shouldn’t be a problem for you both,” Seulgi smiles suggestively, “you should be seeing a lot of each other in bed.”

You and Johnny laugh uncomfortably. “Yup. We’re having a good time in bed,” you say nervously, hoping that you don’t sound as nervous as you are.

To avoid any awkwardness, you and Johnny book separate appointments at the same time but with different masseuses. Your masseuse is a woman named Jiyeon, a kind woman in her thirties who you heard from Taemin has expert hand that can melt the stress away from your body.

You’re clutching the edges of your robe when Jiyeon smiles at you. “I’m going to look away and get some oils from this cabinet,” she points to a glossy white cabinet with a metal handle. “Feel free to take off your robe and lie face down on that massage table. There’s a towel over there for covering.”

You do as she bids and strip down naked, lie face-down on the massage bed, and put a medium-sized white towel on your butt. You position your face on the massage bed, which cradles your cheeks comfortably.

All of a sudden, you hear a knock.

“Excuse me, I’ll only be a moment,” Jiyeon says. Quietly, she opens the door, closing it so that there’s a thin line of air between the door and the door frame. The person who knocked starts talking, and you quietly listen to what they say.

“Jiyeon,” says a woman. “Do you mind looking after my client? My five-year-old just had an incident at school, and the teacher wants to talk to me,” she says, not elaborating further what the ‘incident’ is.

“Sure. Come on in,” she tells the client. “I’m going to get more materials from this cabinet, and feel free to strip down and grab a towel.”

“Sure– Y/N?” You know that voice from anywhere: Johnny. Your head now rests on your cheek as you look at your best friend, who only has a towel on his waist.

“Johnny?”

“You two know each other?” Jiyeon asks.

“Well, we’re sort of… married,” you say, the words sounding unfamiliar on your tongue.

“That’s your husband? Normally couples try to utilize the couples’ massage,” Jiyeon thinks out loud.

“We…” Johnny is out of words.

“Don’t worry,” Jiyeon says. “Many couples are shy around their spouses being naked, especially if they were saving themselves for marriage.”

“Y-Yes,” you chime in uncertainly. “I was saving myself for marriage, and now that I’m married, it’s all so new to me.” You chuckle nervously.

“That’s absolutely okay,” Jiyeon says expertly. She’s probably massaged hundreds of couples who are having a hard time adjusting to married life. But you’re pretty sure she’s never run into a couple faking to be married because that was easier to explain than the real story. “Now that you’re together, I hope you both can start overcoming that shyness.”

“Yeah,” Johnny says quietly.

Jiyeon goes back to getting more oils. It’s too late now to cancel your appointment. Johnny faces the the door, and you gulp at the toned, muscular, hell even beautiful side profile of your best friend. The second that Johnny takes off his towel, you shift your head to face the tiled floors. For a millisecond, you got a good view of a completely naked Johnny. You feel your cheeks burst with heat, and you’re glad that no one can see your cheeks right now.

You’ve seen Johnny half naked before, in his swim trunks and even with just a towel, and you have admired his beauty from afar before. But now it’s different. The thought of liking Johnny and him being naked in the same room is too much for you.

The second massage bed squeaks as Johnny gets on, and you feel a tapping on your arm. You turn to Johnny, whose cheek is smushed against the table and he has a wide grin on his face.

“So much for private,” you whisper, quiet enough for Jiyeon to not hear.

“It’s like the universe wants us to see each other naked,” Johnny scoffs.

“Today, we’ll be using a lavender green tea mixture,” Jiyeon says, unaware of your’s and Johnny’s private chitchat.

She starts off coating the oil on your back, little by little. She gently dabs the substance and places her hands on your back, and you gasp a little at the feeling of another woman touching you like this. Johnny snickers and you make a mental note to smack him later.

You feel the mixture working wonders on your skin, and it’s as if your worries are melted away by Jiyeon’s skilled hands. You moan slightly at the sensation of being pampered, and you feel your lips curl up into a smile.

“Enjoying yourself over there?” Johnny asks. You turn your head to face him.

“You will too,” you smile.

You’re a little disappointed when Jiyeon’s hands leave your body and she takes a few steps to massage Johnny’s sunkissed flesh. He hums contently as Jiyeon massages him, lathering his body with the essential oil mix, and you watch, slightly jealous.

You want to touch his skin like that.

“You signed up for the leg massage?” Jiyeon asks.

“Yes,” you say. That was back when you thought Johnny wasn’t going to be in the room.

After you close your eyes, Jiyeon rubs the oil on your legs, and you feel bliss overcoming you. Her fingers are soothing yet powerful, two words that usually have a hard time coexisting together in the same sentence, but in this case, ‘soothing yet powerful’ is the perfect fit for what you’re feeling.

She asks Johnny if he was supposed to have a leg massage, and he says yes, so Jiyeon gets to work on him, and Johnny is just as content with the massage as you are.

When Jiyeon steps away and stands in front of you both, Johnny sounds disappointed. “Is it already over?”

“Yes. You can book another appointment with me if you want,” she says. “I’ll leave you two to get dressed,” she says suggestively before leaving the room.

At the same time, you and Johnny look at each other.

“I-I’ll change first,” you offer awkwardly.

“Okay,” Johnny says, his gaze straight at you.

“Do you m-mind looking away?” You ask nervously.

“Oh,” Johnny didn’t even realize that he was staring at you for a long time, at how beautifully the towel around your waist and butt shows your womanly curves. “Yeah, of course.” He turns his head away, and you get up, grabbing your pink blouse and shorts from where you discarded it before the massage started. You fumble with trying to put them on, your hands shaking, mentally chastising yourself for changing so slowly.

“I’m finished,” you say to Johnny, your back facing him. “You can change now, I’m not looking.”

“Okay,” Johnny responds. You hear the massage table creak as Johnny rises, and he has his back facing towards you. You don’t know what possesses you – a bit of curiosity or horniness – but you turn around slowly yet silently, to get a view of Johnny’s toned, muscular back, tanned due to all the time you both have been in the sun recently. You watch how he turns to grab a robe that you didn’t even realize was lying around, and your eyes travel ravenously to his toned chest, down, down, down…

Your cheeks are heating for the millionth time today when you turn your head back, staring at the white walls. You can see Johnny about turn to face you just as you were staring, and terrified of getting caught, you whip your eyes back to where they are supposed to be, on the white, pristine walls.

“I’m done,” Johnny says. “But I’ll need to go to the other room to get my clothes.” He smiles, his face a little red. Good, he didn’t notice you staring.

“Let’s go to the seafood bar,” you say before Johnny can say anything else. As you try to make your mouth water at the seafood you read on the website was the best in Korea, your mouth is watering at something else…

Oh, how you wish Johnny stopped being friends with you after that project.

Instead of getting drunk on the beach for the twentieth time during your stay, you decide to invite your favorite couple Seulgi and Taemin for some beach volleyball. It looks fun in those summery beach movies, so why not try it in real life?

You asked the receptionist at the front desk where all the sports equipment was, and she showed you a portable storage unit near the part of the beach that was owned by the resort, and the four of you take the time to set up the net.

While playing under the hot sun, the time passes by quickly. Taemin and Seulgi win the first set while you and Johnny win the second set, both worth twenty points (neither of you were sure how many points a real beach volleyball game was supposed to last, and twenty seemed like a good number).

The final set consists of fifteen points, mostly only to be the tiebreaker set, as you have learned from watching a little beach volleyball in the summer Olympics. The previous sets weren’t that long since neither you, Johnny, Seulgi, or Taemin were that good and were honestly a little scared to be diving head-first into the sand to keep the ball in the air. But as the competitiveness of the game increases by the set, all four of you are willing to do what it takes to win.

The match is at 12-11 with you and Johnny on the losing side – for now. The best thing about having Johnny on your team is that Johnny is at least six feet tall and perfect for blocking the ball from coming to your side – embarrassingly enough, that was probably where the majority of your points came from because Seulgi had a difficult time diving for the ball, and you weren’t exactly much better. Sure, you had pretty good reflexes – back when you were growing up with Iris, you could swat her hand away when she tried to pull your hair – but those reflexes weren’t the same type you needed to keep a volleyball in the air.

“12-12,” Johnny says, smirking at Taemin and Seulgi.

“It’s not fair!” Seulgi whines. “You’re so freakishly tall,” she jokes. Taemin presses his lips in a fine line in good humor. Being only 5’9, he would have to jump really high if he wanted to block Johnny’s shots, and that only happened sometimes.

The final set persists. Every time you and Johnny would get another point, you both were cocky and off-guard, leaving Taemin and Seulgi to regain a point and keep the score tied. Once, they earned another point, leaving you and Johnny behind one point. The final set in beach volleyball doesn’t end until one team earns two more points than the other team, and sometimes that leads to sets that were more than twenty points.

Thankfully, though, this set does not go over twenty points, but ends with twenty points exactly. With this heat, you were praying that it would end soon so that you could get a drink of water (which you would get only every ten points into the set).

With you and Johnny leading, you serve the ball. Seulgi is able to receive it and set it into the air, when Johnny is able to jump up and block the ball. He is able to aim his block to an exposed part of Taemin and Seulgi’s side, where neither of them are in range of protecting. After Johnny makes his move, neither Seulgi or Taemin could stop the ball from touching the sand.

“We win!” You exclaim excitedly to Johnny. Noticing how Seulgi and Taemin are watching, you run up into your best friend’s arms and kiss him on the cheek. Johnny carries you and presses a soft kiss on your lips, playing along (and sadly, nothing else).

“We get it,” Taemin rolls his eyes.

You and Johnny help Taemin and Seulgi take down the net, and you shake hands.

“Good game,” you say to each other. Seulgi pulls you in for a hug while Taemin and Johnny fist bump in good faith.

“See you guys later,” Taemin says. He directs his gaze to you. “After you told us about the surfing, we’re going to try it out,” he smiles at you then redirects his gaze to Johnny. They both bow in a means to say ‘good-bye,’ and they take the net away, which you all agreed would happen to the losers of the game. Johnny takes the ball, and you throw some sticks you found to mark the court towards the ocean.

Seulgi and Taemin are just ameobas in the distance as you and Johnny make your way in the same direction, sand coating your feet. The walk is slow since the sand seems obsessed with ensnaring your feet.

As you walk, your arms brush. Due to the awkwardness parading around as a married couple, you jump back, but Johnny doesn’t.

“When are we going to stop pretending?” He asks suddenly, perfectly in Johnny’s signature direct style. Your eyes widen. You knew it; Johnny hated pretending to be married to you, after all who would want to be married to you? Even Kun, your fiance of numerous years, didn’t want to spend the rest of his life with you.

“What do you mean?” You ask cooly, trying not to show that your lips are starting to quiver.

“Pretending to date?”

You take a deep breath. “When we get out of this resort. Then we can go back home and pretend that this never happened, and you don’t ever have to talk to me ever again because I forced you to play along as my fake husband–”

The words that keep falling out of your mouth evaporate as Johnny faces you, a serious look on his face. His brown eyes contain the utmost seriousness.

“That’s not what I meant,” he says. You cock your head. It’s as if your heart stopped, waiting to beat again until Johnny says something.

Johnny then says the words that make the earth shatter under you.

“When are we going to stop pretending to date and start actually dating?”

You feel completely winded.

“R-really dating?” You stammer. You couldn’t believe it. While you were suffering alone, thinking that Johnny probably doesn’t like you back (for the second time since you’ve met the guy, in fact), he’s standing right in front of you, telling you the opposite of what you’re expecting.

“Yeah,” Johnny says. He takes your wrist, the volleyball between his waist and elbow long forgotten as it drops onto the sand. The world has stopped rotating, and only you and Johnny are in this moment.

“Why?” You can’t seem to get over your astonishment.

“Because you’re really great, and I can never get you out of my mind,” he says. Your gaze continues to burn a hole into his eyes, and he finally continues.

“I’ve been in love with you since junior year. So what’s that?” Johnny asks, rhetorically, “Seven years?” You have to keep yourself from letting your jaw drop to the ground. “On and off of course,” he smiles.

“I was so worried you didn’t like me back,” Johnny says, taking a hand and combing his hair back, revealing his tanned forehead. You can tell that this is a dialogue that has taken years to perfect and to get the courage to say.

You can’t believe that you’ve never had the courage to say these words like Johnny, preparing to love him in silence once again.

“Not to mention that it could change our friendship forever,” Johnny said.

“But Y/N,” he says. “Not for a second did I stop thinking about you. In college, there was something missing. Sure, I had a few girlfriends here and there, but there was nothing that was substantial. Every time I went out to an Italian restaurant, and I would remember how much you love pasta,” Johnny smiles to himself.

“When I got with Kun, why didn’t you say anything?” You ask.

“Because,” Johnny sighs. “I thought it was too late. You were already in love with him. And I tried to move on. But I couldn’t,” Johnny says suspensfully.

“Then this honeymoon thing happened. I knew I couldn’t keep it a secret anymore. I don’t want to lose you to another man, not again,” Johnny says, his voice rising in slight anguish.

“It was so hard to look at the happy pictures of you and Kun on Instagram kissing, holding hands, going out together. In fact, it drove me insane,” Johnny chortles, in an attempt to keep the mood a little lighter than it was.

The new information puts Johnny in a new light. You shyly try to avoid his gaze, but you fail. You need to tell him this to his face.

“I guess this is something else we have in common,” you smile. “I’ve had a crush on you since sophomore year, but I’ve been in love with you since junior year,” you take a deep breath, waiting as you let the words resonate in Johnny’s brain. His gaze urges you to continue.

“I didn’t want to tell you anything because I was afraid it would change our friendship. And imagine if you didn’t feel the same way, how awkward it would be. Could we ever really look at each other the same again?” You confess.

“I had a speech planned out senior year. At prom,” you say. Johnny’s gaze remains fixed on you as he processes the new information.

“I thought that if you asked me to slow dance, then it would be the perfect time to confess,” you say. “If we slow danced, then it meant that you sort of liked me? Or that the mood was right? I don’t know,” you giggle. “It sounds stupid now that I say it out loud.”

“Well, you were one step ahead of me,” Johnny joins in on the laughter. “God knows that I was too chicken to confess to you.”

“Iris would say the same thing about me. ‘Just confess already! No it won’t be weird that you’re in college now’” you mock your sister.

“But then my friends introduced me to Kun. He was so different,” you sigh at how young and in love you were with him. “He seemed so exotic. He was the Chinese exchange student, but then became a permanent student and got help with his citizenship. This was when we were together. Kun called me his good-luck charm, and I thought it was a sign that we should get married.” You smile ruefully. “We know where that went.”

“I don’t think I was ever in love with him,” you start off. “I had this stupid, silly little competition with my sister, but I was really the only one participating. I always had to one-up her, and there wasn’t really any provocation for it,” you confess. It wasn’t like your parents compared you to her. Naturally, you’re a competitive person.

You’ve never told this to anyone, and suddenly, it feels like there’s a big weight lifted off of your chest.

“You never needed to be like your sister,” Johnny says. “Just being you is enough.”

Slowly the gap closes between you both. You throat dries at what you’re going to say next, but you force the words out of yourself.

“I love you Johnny Suh. I always have, and I always will.” Johnny smiles at the tenderness of your voice. You giggle. Finally, it’s out.

“God, I feel like I could scream it to the world,” you say.

“Then do it,” Johnny challenges.

You smile. You step away from Johnny and cup your hands around your mouth.

“I love you Johnny Suh!” You scream shrilly. At the way peoples’ gazes land on you both for a few seconds, you giggle, and Johnny follows in suit.

“Now your turn,” you put your hands on your hips.

“I love you Y/N Y/L/N!”

People mind their own business this time. Love confessions are probably the norm around here.

Before you can stop yourself, you stand on your toes and place your lips on Johnny’s. His lips feel fresh and you can’t help but feel your heart race uncontrollably. You feel like you could die at this moment because you can’t imagine yourself being happier than you are right now, and you want to preserve the feeling. Johnny feels the same way; he can’t stop kissing you, your cherry chapstick making his mind hazy.

You both stare into each others’ eyes as many thoughts run around in your heads unsaid. Johnny’s hands find their way to your waist.

“What are you doing?” You ask. He starts moving, to the beat of his own song, and you follow his steps. By now, you have a feeling why he’s doing what he’s doing.

“Giving you the slow dance that you wanted. And,” he says bringing his lips impossibly close to your’s that you can’t believe he’s not kissing you right now. “The dance I was too scared to ask for.”

Together, you and Johnny are slowdancing on the beach. The sun isn’t a problem anymore, and everything else has faded away in which it would take a lot to remove you from the little world you’re in with Johnny.

You start humming, and Johnny joins you.

If only you told him nine years ago.

A blade of sunshine hits your face, slowly rousing you.

Your vision is bleary with sleep, but the crisp off-white walls and abstract paintings hanging above the bed signal that you’re in the hotel room that you’re sharing with your best friend Johnny.

Now, your boyfriend Johnny.

You both are tangled under the soft white quilt in a mess of limbs. You try hard not to move to abruptly so you don’t wake your boyfriend. There’s something in his face that makes him look so peaceful, so relaxed and child-like; you’ve noticed that people always look like that when they’re asleep.

If there’s something Johnny has learned over the years, it’s knowing when people are watching him when he sleeps. In college, if he felt the slightest gaze hit him during his boring history class, he would immediately jerk awake to not alert the professor of his lack of effort.

But now, he likes the feeling of your gaze raking against his cheeks. He enjoys it for a few moments before he slowly opens his eyes. Your face is close to his, and you almost want to jump away from shock, being so consciously close to your best fr – boyfriend, you mean.

Johnny’s hand quickly grabs your wrist. He would hate for you to back away, because then, he wouldn’t be able to smell the pleasant coconut and strawberry bodywash you used yesterday.

He smiles a sleepy sort of smile. “You’re my favorite thing to see this morning, and all mornings.”

These words make a fast heat spread across your cheeks, and Johnny only gives you a throaty laugh. “Did you forget that we’re dating now?”

To Johnny, being your boyfriend seemed natural; maybe that’s because for the last week and a half, he’s gotten a lot of practice.

For you, on the other hand, it’s going to take longer to get used to. Sure, you’ve gotten practice being Johnny’s girlfriend, but for the whole time, you were a bundle of nerves, afraid that at any moment, someone will find out the true story and will immediately start to pity your situation. Or that Taemin and Seulgi would find out and get mad at you for lying. After getting to know them better, you felt bad about all the lying.

Johnny is a go-with-the-flow type of guy, and after being handed the ropes, he knew what to do. That was one of the many things you love about Johnny.

You lean forward to kiss Johnny’s slightly-chapped lips and smile. “Of course I remember that we’re dating.”

The two of you hop out of bed together; last night, after eating lots of seafood at the seafood bar for maybe the third time since you’ve come here, were completely full and were too tired to do anything else except lie on your backs and sleep together, feeling more content than you have in a long time.

Both of you go into the bathroom where you brush your teeth, stealing gazes at each other while foam coated your chins and making silly faces after cleaning your mouths.

After getting into your beachwear, you both head to the pool, your go-to place before you explored any of the resort for the day. That’s the place where you would meet Taemin and Seulgi, your first couple friends.

Taemin and Seulgi are already there when you and Johnny arrive.

“Y/N! Johnny!” Seulgi calls out. Taemin gestures to two empty lounge chairs by their table and they already ordered you guys drinks.

There’s a reason why you like them.

You and Johnny wave and then join them, taking the two full drinks by their table.

“How was the surfing lesson?” You ask Seulgi, remembering yesterday that Seulgi and Taemin tried surfing lessons that were advertised on the resort website.

“Hilarious,” she says. You quirk an eyebrow, finding the response odd, but she continues. “I was having a good time – in fact, I was a natural, but this one here,” she shifts her gaze to Taemin for a few seconds, “kept falling on his butt!” She erupts in a fit of giggles, and Taemin is prepared to argue.

“The instructor said it was natural for beginners to fall like that,” Taemin defends himself.

“But I was a natural,” Seulgi says playfully, whipping back her hair dramatically.

“Yes, you were,” Taemin fondly smiles.

“It took him at least ten tries for him to actually stand upright,” Seulgi says.

“And what did the instructor say after that?” Taemin challenges in good humor.

Seulgi smiles, “that pro surfers should watch out.”

Taemin nods, “That’s right, don’t forget,” he bats her shoulder.

“I’m so lucky to be married to such a stud,” Seulgi says, and at first you think that it’s her being sarcastic, which a small part is, but then her gaze becomes serious. She forgets that you and Johnny are around for a few seconds.

“And I’m so lucky to be married to a beautiful, natural surfer.” They kiss, and you and Johnny smile. That was you guys just a few hours ago, sick with love that you confessed to one another.

You don’t feel bitter anymore seeing them together, only glad that you found someone who shares the same kind of love for you that you do for him.

Seulgi and Taemin’s gazes are back to you both.

“There’s something…” Taemin trails off, his finger to his chin, “different about you guys.” His voice is clear and astute. Taemin is one of those people whose quiet, but when they say something, people listen to them.

Taemin collects his thoughts to say something further. He inspects you and Johnny in detail. “You both don’t have a few inches of distance. And you’re holding hands.” He points out.

You feel your heart catch in your throat. You were hoping that neither of them would notice anything different, but you weren’t really the best actress.

“Wanna tell them?” Johnny asks. Taemin and Seulgi wait in anticipation for your next words.

“When we came into this resort, Johnny and I weren’t actually married. Or dating in fact.” These words paint shock on the other couple’s faces. You continue the story with how your fiance of many years left you at the altar, and after paying lots of money for the honeymoon, you decided to still attend, this time single and with one of your oldest friends.

“We knew it would be really complicated to explain this story the first time we met you or even the staff. So when people would assume that we were married, we didn’t correct them.”

You try to stop the butterflies in your stomach by thinking that honesty is the best policy, and that you’re relieved that you finally told the truth to people you considered your friends.

Seulgi and Taemin are lost for words for a while.

“Well that’s… eventful,” Seulgi says. You think that she’s about to call you a no-good liar and walk out of your life, but she just smiles. “But I would have done the same thing too. And about your former fiance,” she says, “Fuck him.”

“Seulgi!” Taemin says, “There’s no call for bad language.”

“Of course there’s a call for bad language for Y/N’s terrible former fiance. I know you’ve heard it a bunch of times, and you’re probably tired of it, but I’m really sorry that that happened to you.”

With Seulgi, it didn’t seem like she was trying to sound like they pity you, but her words were heartfelt and genuine.

“It’s okay,” you shrug your shoulders. “Him dumping me is the reason why I’m here today with the love of my life,” you smile fondly at Johnny after taking a sip of your drink, and he leans in to share a kiss that tastes of strawberries and alcohol. “It gave me time to reassess who I should really be with.”

After a few moments of silence at your soulful words, you raise an eyebrow playfully. “Maybe I should send him a thank-you note.”

“Maybe you should,” Taemin says. “It’ll tell him what he missed out on.”

a/n (2): thank you so much for reading! this was a very self-indulgent fic that i had a great time writing. let me know what you thought by leaving a comment or sending me an ask! my ask box is always open. thank you for stopping by!

#nct #johnny suh #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct 127 #johnny suh fluff #johnny suh scenarios #johnny suh imagines #nct imagines #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct reactions #nct fics #johnny suh smut

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outerbankies · 7 months

Note

happy early thanksgiving! are nl rafe and reader celebrating a california friendsgiving this year or do they give their families yet another chance? :)

i meaaaaaan - since you asked, and since thanksgiving is a new light national holiday!

—

new light: smaller acts - rafe cameron

nl masterlist

“I don’t think there’s much we can do, Mr. Cameron. I’m really very sorry.”

Ward’s travel agent, Stephanie, had exhausted every option; at least, all of the ones she could think of combined with every suggestion Rafe could think of to throw at her. Denver, Dallas, Atlanta—every connection flying into anywhere near the Outer Banks for Thanksgiving was getting cancelled.

Stephanie had been Rafe’s last resort. He’d already flashed every credit card he had at every ticket counter in the entire airport, he’d tried using his airline status and the points he’d built up (if there was one thing his father had taught him, it was the importance of airline status), he’d even looked up trains to farther airports that could fly you guys out to an airport even farther from the OBX, he’d worry about rental car options if you could get anywhere within driving distance. Rafe had gone down every avenue he could think of, his urgency increasing as he watched reality sinking in on your face that Thanksgiving in the Outer Banks was just not happening for you two this year.

“How about if you sent us up North?” he tries, his last-ditch effort even though he’d already checked there, too. When you both arrived this morning, you blissfully unaware and Rafe having been tracking the storms all week, he’d kicked it into gear as soon as the slight delay had turned into cancellation. He thought you’d be safe when you checked in for your flights last night with no issues, but no dice.

Three hours later and with no happy ending in sight, Rafe would take a four-leg journey with layovers that barely gave you enough time to run between gates, squished into a middle seat at the back of the plane, with no less than three crying babies just for good measure, if it meant seeing that smile of relief on your face when you realized he’d figured it all out for you.

But you don’t even look hopeful anymore, not stressed or worried either, but resigned and melancholy, sitting across from him with your legs propped up on your carry-on bag.

“We don’t need to be seated together,” he adds.

“I really wish I could, Rafe,” Stephanie sighs, but Rafe can hear she’s stopped typing in the background. The fact that he even got a hold of her today was a miracle, and he’s sure Ward’s loyalty over the years gave him a boost. “There’s just nothing that won’t cost you both an arm and a leg. Everything’s oversold, you’d be standby only. And even if I did book you on something, cancellations and delays are likely in this weather.”

“I appreciate you trying, Stephanie, I really do,” Rafe sighs. “I can let you go now.”

“I’m really sorry I couldn’t do more for you two,” she says sympathetically. “I hope you enjoy your holiday regardless.”

Rafe wishes her likewise and hangs up the phone, surprised to see you already standing to gather your bags.

“So nothing?” you confirm.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Rafe says, nudging your hand away when you try to grab your own suitcase. He tucks a tendril of hair behind your ear, loose from how many times you’d pulled your hair back and tugged it down and pulled it back again. “I think even if we paid these last-minute prices, nothing is going home in these storms. I’d hate for us to end up halfway, spending Thanksgiving at some airport hotel in Atlanta.”

You nod in understanding, and he can tell you’re mentally picturing it, adjusting your hold on the bag over your shoulder, attempting to keep your head high. “How dare you not control the weather, Rafe Cameron.”

“You know I would if I could,” he answers easily. “Are you okay?”

Waiting to fly home until only the day before Thanksgiving had been a risky move in general, but you had an important meeting yesterday you just couldn’t get out of. Big wigs flying in from other offices, with no regard to their employees’ travel plans over the holiday weekend. So flying out first thing Wednesday had been the best bet to make it just in time for Kelce’s party (while really pushing it—like, Rafe saw you put your makeup in your carry-on bag pushing it) and of course for the actual holiday.

Rafe had been keeping an eye on the storms as soon as they’d been forecasted, hoping the reports would be wrong and you’d manage to make it anyway. Will had texted him a news clip and Rafe had downloaded so many weather apps it was ridiculous. And he didn’t want to worry you with any of this during the week of your presentation, but maybe managing your expectations would’ve broken the fall today.

Rafe didn’t much care for everything that came with being home for any holidays, and he already hates himself a little for the feeling of relief he knows he’ll get as soon as he lets Ward know he’s not coming. But he cared for you more than he cared about any of that. And you wanted to be home.

You shrug, biting your bottom lip in a way that screams self-preservation. The airport’s a zoo, people are yelling and babies are crying, announcements of cancellations and gate changes blast through the crackly speakers.

“I don’t know yet,” you answer. “But can we leave?”

Rafe leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Let’s go home.”

—

On the drive home from the airport, the two of you picked the dogs right back up from where you had left them only a few hours ago, meant to stay with one of Rafe’s friends, Stephen, for the weekend.

It wasn’t until Rafe had tucked you in on the couch with a chunky knit blanket and one dog in your lap and the other at your feet that your walls finally started to come down. The realization must have began to sink in that this might be it this year—you, Rafe, Sadie and Captain on the couches, eating whatever take-out sounded the best and was actually open.

“I’m gonna call my mom,” you say to break the silence, digging for your phone in the pile of fur and yarn.

“Maybe… let’s start with your dad,” Rafe suggests gently, causing a tiny smile to force its way onto your face. He’s standing in front of you, and you take his hand when it reaches out toward you, giving it a grateful squeeze before turning back to your phone.

“She’s gonna call me as soon as he tells her anyway, and I just wanna get it over with,” you say certainly, squeezing his hand one more time before pressing your phone to your ear.

Rafe waits before you as your mom answers the phone after only a few rings, not really sure what his best move might be, but knowing it wouldn’t be anything that takes him away from you.

“Mom,” you finally say, your face crumpling immediately. “Our flight got cancelled. No, we won’t make it. We tried so hard—there’s this stupid storm, Mom—”

You cut yourself off because of the lump in your throat, but Rafe doesn’t take the phone from you until you press it into his hand, walking off with Captain trailing behind you and Sadie watching you go over the back of the couch.

“Mrs. Y/l/n?” Rafe says, trying his best to be heard over her never-ending monologue. “It’s Rafe.”

“Rafe? What happened? What does she mean you aren’t coming?” your mom asks. Rafe can picture her, crystal clear, a hand on her hip in the dining room, wearing a cashmere sweater as she checks the table is perfectly laid for tomorrow’s festivities. “Ha! This is a joke. Was she joking?”

“No,” Rafe says. “I wish she was. But the airport was brutal. That storm is gonna nail the Carolinas all weekend, and there’s just no way we’ll get through it. I promise we tried everything, and we’re really gonna miss you guys this year.”

It’s quiet for a while on the other end, and all of his friends who were afraid of their girlfriends’ fathers should be glad they’ll never have to deal with Shannon.

“I’m passing the phone to her father,” she finally says after a momentary silence. “I can’t hear this. Actually, I won’t.”

Rafe balks at this. “Wait—”

“Rafe? What’s going on?”

Rafe sighs, rubbing a hand over his eyes. That now pointless early-morning wakeup was starting to get to him. “Hi. Mr. Y/l/n. I’m sorry. I don’t know how much you heard, but our flight got cancelled.”

Your dad hums, and Rafe can picture Will, too, probably in a pair of sweatpants and fresh off of a conference call, poking his head out of his office at the sound of your mom’s concern. He’s suddenly struck by the fact that he actually is gonna miss seeing both of them this weekend, prodding questions aside.

“I was really hoping you guys would miss the weather,” Will says, sounding a lot calmer than your mom at least. Rafe wonders if he hadn’t filled your mom in on this possibility either.

“It sounds like everything going back East just collapsed. We can’t get in through Florida, Boston, New York. Anything, ” Rafe explains. He cranes his neck to hopefully see up the stairs, but you’d disappeared into the bedroom, so that’s where Rafe heads. “I swear I tried everything I could think of to get us out there, Mr. Y/l/n. It just isn’t happening.”

“I’m sure you did,” Will says. “Don’t worry about that. We’re gonna miss you both.”

“We’ll miss you, too,” Rafe says, his heart dropping when you emerge from the ensuite bathroom with tears still streaming down your face.

“But really. Nothing?” Will presses, last-ditch effort evident in his tone. “I doubt the plane will be much help, but you know we’d spot your tickets.”

“And I might have actually let you if I could be sure it’d get us there,” Rafe says, welcoming you into his one open arm, pressing a kiss into your hairline when your hand grabs at his shirt.

“Alright,” Will sighs. “Put my daughter on the phone now, would you?”

“Yes, sir.”

—

Rafe had barely left your side since the two of you returned home, letting you cry it out in his arms once you finished talking with your dad, not hearing any apology you had about your display of emotions, the fact that your stupid work commitment had been the catalyst for all of this.

And then fell asleep for a little, waking from the nap you had planned to be taking on the plane today after your ungodly wake-up time this morning only when you heard him on the phone with his own family. That phone call seemed a lot shorter and a lot less emotional than yours, so you knew he must have been talking to Ward.

“Are you a relieved at all?” you ask him, before you're even fully awake, picking at one of the buttons on his henley as he finished up his call.

“Honestly?” he says, putting his phone on the side table by the bed before rolling onto his side and facing you. “Yeah, a little. But I’d rather deal with your mom’s friends asking us when we’re getting married than see you this upset.”

“I more meant with Ward.”

“Ward’s a known entity,” he says casually, but you know he’s probably glad to be off the hook. You hated traveling back home on your own, but you knew Rafe’s little storm cloud would reappear the moment you touched the dock. “I never had to deal with the Island Club ladies confronting me at the pharmacy and the grocery store about when I’m ‘finally settling down’ before you.”

“Maybe they’ll think we’re actively eloping instead,” you say. “I’ll post a beach picture so everyone thinks we’re in Hawaii or something.”

“Maybe you wear something white,” he says, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

Silence stretches between the two of you, your jokes as a coping mechanism disappearing as quickly as they came.

“How can I make it better, baby girl?” Rafe asks.

“Get your pilot license like you’ve been talking about for years so you can fly us through this storm before Kelce’s party tonight.”

“I texted him while you were asleep,” Rafe says. “I was gonna tell him to take it easy on you when you called to cancel, but he’s not gonna make it home either.”

“No,” you say, propping yourself up on your elbow suddenly. “What?”

“Yeah,” Rafe confirms. “He did the same runaround. He told me he just barely made it onto a flight this morning, but they deplaned right before they were supposed to take off.”

“Hmph,” you groan, the visual of your best friend alone in his high-rise apartment on his favorite day of the year making you feel even worse. You’ll have to call him eventually and bully his plans for the holiday out of him so you can make sure he’ll at least be treating himself to some nice take-out and calling his mom.

None of this was right. You should all be three sheets to the wind at one of your favorite bars right now, or trying to sneak into Gretchen’s basement without a lecture from her dad that you’re all way too old for before the pregame. You should have spent the evening doing your makeup while Rafe sits on the tub in your bathroom and watches, fetching things from your suitcase when you need them, refilling your wine and nodding along to all of the island gossip you’d been able to catch up on.

You should be gossiping in the kitchen with your mom, with Rose, with Sarah and Wheezie, while Rafe gets his fix of time with your father and serves his sentence of time with his own, respectively. Rafe should be whispering wisecracks about your little brother’s douchey boyfriend that’s somehow managed to hang around for this long in your ear during cocktail hour, and you should be shaking your head in disbelief as John B regales you with another insane story about his antics with his friends.

You should have gotten out of that meeting, the one that went extremely well that you can’t even be happy about anymore. You knew Rafe wanted to ask about it, but after dinner with some higher-ups you’d raced home and thrown yourself into the last-minute packing before passing out.

You should be almost anywhere but where you are, but at least you’re still with Rafe.

“I know,” Rafe says. “I know it sucks. I wish I could fix it, baby.”

“Again, I find it so rude you can’t control the weather or fly us through it yourself. I’ll be sure to require that when I’m scouting for my next boyfriend,” you say.

“And when might that be?”

“Probably after the holidays, when I have the time.”

You squeal when Rafe’s hands grab at your middle, his fingers digging in until you’re pressed as close to him as you can be. Captain jumps on the bed, worming his way in between you two.

“You say something so mean when you know I can’t be mad at you,” Rafe says against the shell of your ear.

You giggle, humming contentedly when he presses a kiss to your neck. “You love me.”

“I do.”

“So,” you say.

“So,” he echoes.

“We called our parents, you talked to Kelce,” you say.

“Did you text the girls?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you say, reaching for your phone and swiping through what had come in since you fell asleep. “And Dylan’s been blowing me up, so my parents must have told him.”

“At least we don’t have to sit through a meal with Everett,” Rafe says, cracking a smile at your offended look. “Come on. I’m sorry, but your brother’s boyfriend sucks.”

Everett does suck, and you’ll collect all of the silver linings where you can get them. No Ward, no Everett, no Chloe and no Griffin.

“I wonder who would’ve had the guest house this year.”

“If your mom gave it to me again, we might have had to brave my dad’s,” Rafe says.

“What’d your dad say? On the phone earlier?”

“That he’ll miss us. He sends his best, said he knew you’d be upset,” Rafe says. “And that Rose will miss your pumpkin pie. I wanna call my sisters and John B tomorrow when they’re done with dinner.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you sigh, taking note of the rest of the texts from your friends, sending hearts and crying faces in the group chat when Topper complained about how the OBX is a ghost town this week and Blythe couldn’t join him later like they’d planned. He must have gone home earlier, what you wish you would’ve done. “We have to call Kelce, too. Maybe we can try to eat dinner at the same time with him on FaceTime.”

“Oh yeah. What do even wanna eat?” Rafe asks.

You groan, rolling onto your back. “My grandma’s peach pie.”

“Fuck,” Rafe answers. “I forgot about that.”

“It might be fun to do a small spread,” you venture to say. “I mean, I don’t know what the store will look like at this point. But do you think we could put something together?”

Rafe nods, and you can already see the grocery list forming in his head. He grabs the notepad he keeps beside the bed seconds later; your boyfriend might be the last person on earth who doesn’t use the app on his phone. “‘Course we can, even if we have to fight someone for the last sweet potato.”

You sit up in excitement, an idea forming. “Should we invite people over?”

Rafe raises his eyebrows, tapping the back of his pen against the pad. “Like who?”

“I don’t know. Anyone who’s around?”

“Sure,” he shrugs.

“Really? It’s okay if it’d be too much, we can totally just cook for two, or order in, or—”

“I love that you said ‘we’ can cook,” Rafe says. “You know you’re just going to take up counter space.”

You snatch the pad of paper out of his hands, hitting him on the arm with it. “I’ll set the table and straighten up the house, I promise.”

“And you’ll do it so well,” Rafe says, leaning in for a kiss. “I’m also putting you in charge of alcohol and rounding up the misfits.”

“I can do that,” you say, watching him continue to scrawl out ingredients for whatever he plans to cook while you take up counter space just like he said.

You’ve been thinking all morning about how Stephen didn’t seem to have any plans this weekend, and about any of your local friends who also couldn’t get a flight out today. Even with a lot of them out of town, you’re hopeful you can partially fill up a table.

“Are we actually doing this, Rafe?”

“If I head to the store now, do you think you can call me with a headcount in the next hour? Do I need to get anything to help the table look pretty?”

“Yes. And no,” you say, already jumping up. “I have tons of stuff in the garage. I’ll just need help getting the boxes down. Oh, we might even get to bring in the extra chairs!”

“Then I think we’re doing this, Y/l/n.”

—

The two of you got barely any sleep last night. You’d shoved as many chairs as possible around your tiny dining room table, Rafe’s hand was cramping from the amount of potatoes he’d peeled, and you had several breakdowns about the tablescapes—and Rafe can’t remember the last time he had a better Thanksgiving.

You’ve been practically buzzing around the house the last 24 hours, cleaning the entire house top to bottom, calling or texting anyone you could think of that might be alone today, handling any stressful part of this with the biggest smile on your face.

Rafe doesn’t know how you managed to fill the table up as much as you did, to the point where one of your guests, Ms. Sanchez from two doors down—who always made sure to get your mail and water your plants while you were away—had to bring over a pair of extra chairs she had. Beside her is your friend from college Meredith, plus the guy she’s now dating, Henry. Beside them—and this one really threw Rafe for a loop, because he had no idea how you even managed to wrangle them—were two interns he used to work with during his time at Beau’s company, Sasha and Chase. They must have been as disinterested as you and Rafe were by the invite to Beau and Agnes’ gigantic, catered spread. Across the table is Stephen, who did in fact have nowhere to go today, and was extremely grateful to make the cut.

“This is enough food,” you say out loud, taking into account everything Rafe had managed to whip up, plus any of the dishes others had brought. “This is enough food, right? Or should I run back out really quick and—”

“It’s enough, baby,” Rafe assures you. “If anything, your gigantic charcuterie gave us a nice cushion.”

Despite Rafe’s jokes, you had been a huge help in the kitchen today—about as huge as you could be before Ms. Sanchez, the first to arrive, had shooed you away and taken the metaphorical reins from Rafe’s hands. He was glad to give them, and he can’t even believe how much food they’d managed to fix up on such short notice.

“No, yeah, you’re right. It’s enough. There’s eight of us—this is plenty for eight. And thank god Meredith brought that champagne, or—”

The doorbell chimes again like it had been all day, the noise breaking through the sound of charmingly awkward small talk and the playlist you’d curated into the wee hours of the morning while Rafe finished following your pumpkin pie recipe.

“I’ll get it,” you tell him, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek, pulling back with your eyebrows furrowed. You readjust your hair, brushing invisible crumbs off of your sweater. “Although, I have no clue who it is at this point.”

“Tell them to pull up a chair,” Rafe says casually. He finishes stirring the mashed potatoes just in time to peek his head around the doorway leading out of the kitchen, just barely catching the look on your face when you open the door.

“What the hell?” you ask, your arms thrown around Kelce in a grip that looks bone-crushing a millisecond. “Why are you at my house? Why are you here?”

Kelce laughs, and Rafe catches his nod, a smile on his own face now. “You didn’t actually think you could do Thanksgiving without me, did you?”

“But how did you… what? Oh my god. Rafe, Rafe! Look who…” you trail off, and Rafe smiles proudly, accepting another kiss to the cheek once you tug Kelce into the kitchen. “You did this.”

“I mean…” he shrugs. Kelce doesn’t skip the decimated charcuterie board on his way into the kitchen, fist bumping Rafe only after collecting the last few pieces of cheese.

“Nailed it,” Kelce says. “But a little upset she didn’t cry.”

“If it helps, I don’t think she had any left in her after thinking about you ordering take-out all alone.”

You look between the two of them, shaking your head in disbelief as Kelce kisses your check. “How did you even get out here? I checked flights this morning. There’s still nothing.”

“Nothing going home. But there’s plenty of flights coming here,” Kelce says. “And your boyfriend even split the price for the extra legroom seat with me.”

You hug Kelce tightly one more time before you start the rounds introducing him to everyone around the table, and he slots in as easily as someone like Kelce would be expected to, finding a seat between Stephen and Ms. Sanchez and a full glass of wine in front of him in no time, still in his plane clothes and everything.

Rafe wipes his brow with the towel over his shoulder, before shutting the timer off on the oven and pulling the last dish out. He hears you come back into the kitchen, not turning when he hears you re-enter the kitchen.

“I think we’re about ready to eat—”

Rafe’s nearly knocked off balance by the way your arms encircle his neck, and his next worry after regaining his footing is that you might be about to cry again. You’d been doing so well on tears this morning, but only after the obligatory FaceTimes with both of your families had came and went.

“You,” you say simply, pulling back. “You made this the best back-up Thanksgiving ever.”

“Baby,” Rafe says shyly. “Everyone in there is all you.”

“But you made all of this food, and you even got Kelce here, and really, Chase and Sasha technically, and—”

“We,” Rafe amends. “Yeah?”

“We,” you agree, and Rafe can see it written all over your face. This won’t be the last time you host Thanksgiving, and it might not even be the last time you do it in this house. The two of you are gonna have a million chances to have days like this one, to invite anyone you care for, to make the best out of a really shitty situation.

You and Rafe were a family now; you’d been his home for years.

There was no Thanksgiving Eve blowout to leave you severely hungover this morning, no unruly or annoying younger siblings to tame on behalf of your parents. No moments between you and Wheezie making his heart melt, or between him and his father the make him yearn for your touch cross the room.

But Rafe knows he’ll have a more solid answer the next time he’s home and one of your mom’s gossipy friends asks when he’ll finally get around to proposing. And he hopes you happen to be at his side, his answer already evident with the jewelry adorning your left ring finger.

“Rafe?” you say, passing a plate off to Meredith, who’d come into the kitchen to help set the table.

“Sorry,” Rafe says, shaking his head, leaning in for one last kiss. “What did you say?”

“I was just… my meeting. It went really well. And I wanna tell you about it after dessert, okay?” you ask.

“Baby, that’s great,” he says, reaching around you to hand Henry a few hot pads. “I wanna hear everything.”

“You will,” you say, grabbing the last basket of bread and Rafe’s hand. “Now let’s eat.”

#new light hcs #rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine

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