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boyfhee · 8 months ago

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ㅤ ꣑୧ㅤㅤ:ㅤCANDLELITㅤㅤ𝒻t.ㅤㅤ성혼

﹙10097﹚ SYNOPSIS . . . the dating scene sucks, especially when the only person you want to be with is your roommate.

꣑୧ GENRE . . . roommate au, 'i hate them but they're hot' kind of energy

꣑୧ WARNINGS . . . profanities, drinking i mean lots of drinking we need alcohol shortage here, sunghoon smokes, mentions of one night stands, one very suggestive make out scene in the fourth section, undertones of cheating but not from sunghoon or reader, implications of sex although it's very light

꣑୧ NOTES . . . hi ( _ _; ) drowning in nervousness as i'm posting this. it's my first long fic after months ... i think the last one was in may or june 23 ... so please be nice >< don't know why but this didn't turn out how i wanted it to and it's definitely not one of my proudest works, but i hope u guys like it nonetheless huhu TT happy reading and please rb and drop feedback, it's highly appreciated ^_^

001. WHERE THERE’S HEAVEN THERE’S HELL

sunghoon is spiralling again.

a part of it is because of the endless assignments from classes, but that’s no news. he knows it’s his fault for procrastinating and waiting till two days before the due date to even think about working on them— unlike jake who somehow attends classes probably four times a week and is seen in the football fields instead, and still manages to be the first one to submit his essays. it’s admirable, annoying at most. when he sat down to do his sports science project three days before it was due, sunghoon realised why his professor gave them two months to finish it.

but realising your mistakes and working on them to be a better version of yourself are two different things.

for one, sunghoon believes those assignments are useless. no one cares about the impact of sports on society, maybe except heeseung and jake but again, in sunghoon’s mind, those two are never important. second, he’s too perfect to be working on himself. sunghoon is the best version of himself. he was born the day his uncle died, and his dad inherited the entire chain of restaurants his family owns across the country. he’s too amazing to be worrying about getting a degree he can buy— he thinks the university should be honoured he’s choosing to study— but that’s simply because his mother doesn’t want him to turn out like his sister.

back to the matter at hand— as he puts the beer can on the table and sits back on the couch, his eyes travel to the door yet again. seventh time in just a minute, he’s keeping a record of how you make him wait.

if there’s one thing he hates is being irresponsible ( coming from the great king of irresponsibility himself. ) you said you’d be back by twelve, and it’s half past one in night and not a soul knows your whereabouts. thirteen texts, seven missed calls, his phone is at forty-one percent and sunghoon is at his limit. if it wasn’t for your mom he wouldn’t give two flying fucks about where you are and how you’ve been.

sunghoon is actually surprisingly obedient and well-mannered, as opposed to the popular belief. he gave you and your mother the whole tour of the apartment the day you moved in. even made some coffee which isn’t much but your mother had loved him. he could see it in the way she looked at him with those sweet eyes, holding his hands as if he was her own son, and asking him to look after you.

‘please take care of my daughter,’ sunghoon thought he was getting married. instead of a wedding bell there were warning sirens going off. to this day he doesn’t know why she asked him that, minutes after she saw a dead cactus in the balcony that he killed by overwatering. he couldn’t even say no to her and just nodded, looking over at you briefly and noticing how you look like you were a bit embarrassed. sunghoon doesn’t know why he’s so serious about ‘taking care’ of you. he thought it would be easy, but you had to be devil’s favourite spawn and sunghoon happens to be your target.

however, he can’t take this anymore. he has a morning class and waiting till two am while drinking beer has done more damage to sunghoon than it should. he gets up from the couch with a sigh, leaving the empty cans unattended for a night as he makes a mental note to clean tomorrow. it isn’t until a click from the door stops him in his tracks.

“i’m back,” your voice is quiet, a yawn following immediately after your words as you look down while taking off your shoes. you’ve been drinking again, sunghoon can tell it from a mile away.

“you’re late,” he speaks over the silence, hands on his torso as he’s giving you those squinted eyes and doubtful looks. if sunghoon didn’t know any better, he would assume you fucked someone at the club with how messy you look at the moment.

“yeah well, we had to take gigi to the hospital,” your lazy voice isn’t much louder than a whisper. you stumble towards your room, a hiccup followed soon after by the same quiet and slurred tone. “she ate something weird,”

he huffs at your words, knowing it would very well be just another excuse. “you could’ve at least texted,”

“my phone died,”

“i’m sure your friends would be happy to lend you their phone,” he pauses when he feels himself getting a bit annoyed. a soft sigh falls off his lips as he looks down at the tiled floor before looking up and speaking in a much calmer voice. “i’m just saying it’s not exactly safe to be out alone on the streets this late at night,”

“i wasn’t alone,” that piques his interest. “jay drove me back,”

and sunghoon felt his whole world stop. “jay?”

“yeah, jay, park jongseong,” your voice is surprisingly sweet when you take his name and it bothers sunghoon for some reason. his face scrunches up when you bite back a smile, hoping it’s the alcohol not because of what he thinks it is. “he’s nicer than i thought,”

sunghoon is not unfamiliar with the name park jongseong.

he hears it every day on and off the campus, more often than he likes. first things first, he’s just as popular as jake, for being american, which brings sunghoon to the question— why in the world would he leave america to study in korea when jay could have attended one of the ivy leagues with his face and money?

and the second and more important question, why in the world is park jongseong dropping you home at two in the night?

sunghoon only watches you in disbelief and astonishment as you stumble to your room, mumbling something incoherently. your words ring in his ear like sirens. ‘he is better than you’ jay is better than sunghoon. he scoffs almost offensively in your direction. that has to be the biggest lie of the twenty-first century.

he follows you to your room, reaching out to grab your arms when you almost trip but you manage to balance yourself. he opens the door and turns on the lights for you. “why were you with him to begin with?”

“oh, you don’t know?” and you turn around with eyes wide open as he shakes his head like a deer in the headlight. “he asked me out,”

sunghoon didn’t get a single ounce of sleep last night.

it’s your fault, clearly. had you been back earlier on the time, nothing would’ve happened. and jay— sunghoon sights at the thought of him, eyes narrowing as he grits on his pen as if he’s going to break it into two.

“dude, are you hungry?” jake pokes sunghoon by his shoulder, dragging the latter out of his trail of thoughts.

“what?” sunghoon shoots a blank look, one that makes his friend sigh in concern. afterall, it’s not everyday he sees sunghoon chewing on a pen. “i’m not,”

“you’ve been out of it since the morning,”

and sunghoon has been out of it since jay’s name fell from your lips.

he’s not your friend, definitely not the first guy you’ve called by his name after sunghoon. but something doesn’t sit right. even after tossing and turning in bed for the whole night, he can’t figure out what bothers him more— the fact you said jay is better than him, or the fact that he asked you out on a date.

it’s the first one, he convinces himself. who you date is none of his business, he can’t be arsed enough to care about your love life or relationship status. ( although, he does care a little because he’s nosy. ) what bothers him more is that jay is, to put it in simple words, a player. all that face and no empathy for emotions is a waste, and to think you don’t know this— or maybe you do and yet still chose to go out with him, is beyond sunghoon’s comprehension.

“what do you think about jay?” he asks abruptly, catching jake’s attention, looking at him a little too intently for an answer.

“he’s a nice guy,” a casual reply before he gets back to his assignment before jake looks back at sunghoon with newly found interest. “he turned in my spanish essay last week, oh and drove me back from the bar a few days ago after you ditched me. why?”

sunghoon simply shakes his head, getting back to his books even though his focus is nowhere near studies. at this point, he doesn’t know if it’s jay distracting him or you. even your words keep playing over and over again in the back of his head. jay and nice in the same sentence doesn’t seem fit. sure, he helps his friends and drops his girl back home, but that’s only three days before there’s a new girl in his arms.

002. RUNNING OUT OF SANITY

sunghoon doesn’t hear the door click open when you come back from your classes, too busy in the balcony while humming a tune that you recognise immediately. you take off your shoes, noticing how he taps his foot along with the melody, and it’s quiet in the apartment, apart from the sound of traffic and wind rustling through the trees around.

“i don’t like people who smoke,” smoking is not on your list of likes, but you find yourself next to sunghoon whenever he’s with a cigarette. just like now, when you return from yet another one of your dates— or meet-ups as you prefer to call it right now— with jay. it wasn’t really planned. you bumped into him after classes and he was on his way back home, so you asked him for a coffee.

he almost jumps at your sudden voice but manages to compose himself, scowing at the distaste in your expression before scoffing, the cigarette still dancing between his lips. “good think, i’m not looking forward to be liked by you,”

he studies the frown on your face, glares as if your eyes are shooting daggers in his direction. it’s amusing to him how easy it is to get on your nerves. he leans against the metal railings, hair falling over his forehead. his eyes stay on your for a few seconds before he holds the cigarette between his index and middle finger, putting it away from his mouth and blowing out the smoke in your directions. he laughs mockingly when you step back, fanning out the smoke with your hands, cursing under your breath.

“are you crazy?!” you exclaim in annoyance, coughing slightly at his poor attempt at entertainment. your frown deepens when he mumbles a quiet apology although not meaning it, from the looks of it, and lifts the cigarette back to his lips.

“you’re back early,” he states casually, tapping the cigarette butt and watching the ash fall down from the balcony before a taunting chortle falls off his lips. “did jay dump your ass or something?”

your nose scrunches up at his actions, although mostly at the tobacco you can still smell in your air. you look down at the road, watching a mercedes passing by. “no, he had to go somewhere so he left early,”

“i knew it! he’s good for nothing,” and he drops the cigarette to the floor, crushing it with his foot even though at the back of his mind, he knows you’re going to yell at him for cleaning that up. “what kind of guy can’t even spend time with his girlfriend?”

“we’re not dating,”

“that’s worse!” he emphasises, and a pause follows as he looks at you with a confused expression. “wait— didn’t you say he asked you out?”

“he did, but he said he wants to wait until exams are over,” there’s a hint of displeasure in your voice. his eyes travel down to your fingers, especially the ring you’re fiddling with before they’re back on your face when you speak again. “we just decided to hang out,”

he practically scoffs at your words, quite literally in disbelief. a knowing sigh comes out of his mouth as he stands straight, this time standing with his back against the railing, feeling the cold metal though his thin white t-shirt. a part of him wants to laugh at your stupidity and point at how naive you are, while another part of him wants to find jay and beat him to pulp. he doesn’t know why there’s anger pooling in his stomach at the mere thought of jay just messing around with you.

“what a sick bastard,” he huffs with a tincture of annoyance in his tone. “how much do you want to bet he’s playing with you?”

“you’re the one who’s sick,” and even though it clicks with him that you’re referring to a few minutes earlier when he smoked all in your face, sunghoon still frowns when you call him sick. “he’s just prioritising his studies, there’s nothing wrong with that. at least he doesn’t smoke while being all up my face,”

you two just bask in silence after that.

he doesn’t have much to say— actually he does, but he doesn’t know how to put it in a decent, coherent way. of course, your reaction won’t be the most pleasant if he told you he wants to punch jay’s good for nothing handsome face. he wonders what you’re thinking when he looks over at you. you seem happy whenever you talk about your supposed ‘future boyfriend,’ yet it’s evident that you’re upset. he likes to think you’re having your doubts too. it's reassuring to him for some reason— because that’s good for you, of course. if you’re upset, you have your doubts, and if you have your doubts you might not fall victim to whatever sick game jay is playing.

“oh, actually, he doesn’t smoke,” but then you speak in a matter-of-fact way, as if comparing him to jay before giving him a mocking smile. “he’s better than you,”

those words ring in his mind for a good while.

you go back inside and he hears you shut the door to your room as an annoyed sigh falls off his lips. hearing that jay is nice from jake was another thing, but hearing to say he’s better than him leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. and he doesn’t know why he’s feeling this way, these little changes in how he usually is, it’s new. it’s frustrating him out.

it isn’t until his phone vibrates that he’s dragged out of his ocean of thoughts. his brows furrow when he notices the time, having realised that he basically wasted the entire noon even though he didn’t attend classes after giving heeseung an excuse that he’s sick. his eyes squint at the sender, and then a groan escaping his lips when he opens to read it.

noh chaeun 4:15pm hoon! my last two classes have been cancelled are you up for some coffee?

sunghoon doesn’t reply, rather leaving his classmate’s messages on seen, too bothered by his inner turmoil to spend time with her. it’s not like him to be this way, to be so bothered over something that doesn’t concern him. you’re definitely not someone so significant and jay is definitely not the first guy you’re with. in fact, he has seen you kiss that guy from one of your classes— as much as he hates to recall that incident now— and had sneaked up to tell your mother about it over the phone when she had called you.

you’ve never had a serious relationship, not after meeting him. in his head, you always came back to him and he’d be lying if he hadn’t joked about it with his friends during the initial few weeks after you had moved in. when he had mentioned to jake that you’re pretty and his friend had teased him a few days later, saying his ‘crush’ was with this other guy, sunghoon, did in fact, say he doesn’t care because you always come back to him; or rather his apartment, actually, but whatever fits the joke.

that day, he had a good laugh out of it and the joke died back then itself, more so after he started complaining about you to his friends. your habits, your actions, the things you say that tick him off, your quirky and quick remarks— everything. perhaps, even about your habit of arriving late on weekends from parties and ruining his sleep because you forget the key most of the time, so he has to wake up and open the door for you, but not guys, never guys.

it hurts his head to even try and figure it out, to find the reasoning behind the pang in his chest every time you mention jay. he likes to think it’s just harmless competition although for no reason, even though both of them have done plenty of things to piss each other off just for the fun of it. sunghoon thinks he can live with it and walks back inside to the living room, until he sees you walking out of your room on phone with someone, the name of he who shall be mentioned rolling off your tongue again, and he finally pulls out his phone with a frustrated sigh.

sunghoon 4:21pm sure, i’ll pick you up in ten

“actually, my mom wants to invite your family over for dinner this weekend,” the girl in front of him speaks with a smile after muttering a quiet thank you to the waiter after he gets their order. “she’s very grateful for the donation your dad made for our art gallery and wants to thank properly,”

“talk to my parents, then,” it’s a simple reply, too bland and forced for her liking.

sunghoon hasn’t spared her a single look in the past ten minutes that they’ve been sitting together at the table. firstly, he doesn’t know why he drove to a restaurant when she asked for a coffee. it’s not even close to dinner time, and the awkward yet sweet smile on her face didn’t make it better for him, so he ordered starters and drinks to drag their little impromptu dinner out.

“sunghoon, to be honest,” chaeun tries to strike up a conversation again, despite the constant lack of effort from his side. “i want you—”

“hey, isn’t that jongseong?” and he cuts her off immediately, finger pointing outside the glass panes beside them as he stares in the direction behind her with brows knit together in shock. “who’s that with her?”

“jongseong?” she repeats the name before turning her head, forming an ‘o’ when she spots a familiar figure through the multitude on the streets. “ah, that’s myung jihye. she has been pursuing him for a while. i guess he finally agreed,”

“they’re dating?!” his voice is full of surprise and disbelief unlike hers, so seemed to be happy for the girl instead. he stares outside with a heavy silence as the couple disappears between the crowd before looking at the girl in front of him.

“oh, i wouldn’t say that…i don’t know but it’s possible they are.” it doesn’t miss her attention how sunghoon’s fingers tighten around the fork. “everybody in our major knows jihye has crush on him and they’re probably a thing by now,”

and he wishes you were here with him right now so that he could show you the true colours of the dear guy you’ve been going out with, the one who’s supposedly ‘better’ than him. he wants you to realise that his words weren’t false and he isn’t sick, after all, and if you’d cry, he would be down to tell you it’s not the end of the world. that there are a hundred other guys better than jay, ones who won’t even breathe in front of another woman, who’d treat you better— hell, i can treat you better if you ever give me a chance— and then a pause in his train of thoughts.

he looks at chaeun, who’s looking back at him with a perplexed look and her own set of questions. his mind replays those words yet again, and he screams internally.

what the heck?!

surprisingly enough, sunghoon has been thinking about jay for the whole evening now, obviously not in a good way. his eyes keep travelling to the knife stand on the kitchen island occasionally and every single time, he has to convince himself that murder is not the right answer to anything.

for some reason, he can’t stop imagining your smiles while on date with jay. not that he has ever seen those— wish i could— as he slaps himself out of his state of mind yet again. not only that man is playing with you but on jihye who’s apparently his girlfriend? he lets out the ugliest scoff known to mankind, because in sunghoon’s head, jay is a sick joke made by biology.

he waits for you to return from your shopping spree for about an hour, having beer as a company. he tries to stay awake although his eyes get droopy, and then every ounce of sleep leaves his body when he hears the door unlock.

“yn,” he practically jumps out of the couch, it almost scares you. he accidentally bumps into the living room table on the way, knocking an empty can of beer to the floor but too busy to bother picking it up. “i have to tell—” his eyes go down to the eleven shopping bags in your hands, as he counts them. “— wait, what did you shop so much for?”

“oh, i have to attend a family wedding next month,” his chest feels warm when he sees you smiling and looking so excited, and it’s making him go crazy on the inside because he doesn’t know what is happening to him. for some reason, he starts imagining you in a gown, like the one you wore for the fresher’s party, but then he forces his mind to get back to the point. “i’m thinking of asking jay to be my date,”

and his heart drops down to his stomach.

this has to be a fucking joke, and he tells himself. for a split second, he thinks he didn’t hear you properly. maybe you said jake because, well, jake did tweet a ‘date for rent’ form five months ago when he needed money to buy tickets for a post malone concert that cost more than his gentle monster glasses ( not that he got any money but at least they got a good laugh out of it. )

you remove your shoes and put the shopping bags on the couch before sitting down as well, letting out a heavy sigh. “you look like you saw a ghost,”

“a ghost would’ve been better,” he catches you looking at him when he mumbles under his breath, sort of grateful you didn’t hear him before sunghoon would rather not have another argument with you over how jay is not only a bad choice, he’s the worst choice.

he looks over at you when you pull out your phone, fingers fluttering over the screen as you text someone with a giddy smile. he considers telling you what he had seen earlier, but god, he loved to see you smile like that. the way you press your lips together to suppress a grin, looking ever so happy as if you have won a lottery. he doesn’t think you’ve ever smiled like that at him, and it aggravates him even more when he realises that you probably smile like that every time you see jay.

jay is getting everything he isn’t deserving of, and it pisses sunghoon off down to his bones.

but again, he can’t bring himself to tell you the truth. you look too happy for your own good, it pains him physically to even imagine your reaction when you’ll come to know the truth. and then he pulls himself together, telling himself that it is your fault in the first place to trust someone like jay and ignore the warning signs he was giving you.

in the end, he leaves without having any further conversations with you, going to bed two hours earlier than usual even though he knows he isn’t going to get any sleep. sunghoon is convinced he’s losing his mind, faster than a day ago actually. he lets out a frustrated groan and covers himself with his blanket, hoping to catch some sleep.

it’s going to be yet another long day tomorrow.

003. A CHANGE OF STANCE

sunghoon thinks you’re hot.

what the fuck?

“i asked something,” you remind, pulling him out of his trail of thoughts and he flinches slightly, making your brows furrow in confusion. “how do i look?”

“huh— what? oh,” he takes in your appearance again. hair down, make up done— you’re wearing your favourite lip tint? and the best dress he has seen you in so far, looking so mind blowing it actually blows his mind and short circuits his brain.

even your favourite lip tint … sunghoon doesn’t know why he’s looking at your lips in the first place but little does he know he’s fucked.

absolutely. completely. fucked.

nonetheless, he manages to compose himself, clearing his throat and sitting up ever so elegantly on the couch, legs crossed, the magazine still in his hands. “you look…t-terrific,”

you can’t help but get even more confused at his words, wondering if it was a bad idea to even ask him for his opinion, even though you play along. “like in a good way or a bad way?”

“in a terrific way,” he blurts out, eyes wide open as panic settles in slowly inside his stomach, and he’s stuttering, shocked, surprised, fucked, again. “you look terrific in a terrific way…so terrifically terrific in the most terrific way possible,”

“are you high?”

well, he would say he is! never in the two years that he has known you did sunghoon think he’d find himself floored, figuratively, and speechless, literally, at the sight of you. and he’s not saying you look bad on other days. you look good, in fact. good as in plain and presentable, but never in a good good way and definitely not in a hot way, of course.

“anyway, i’m going out. receive my parcel for me if it arrives,” you move to put on your shoes, taking a few seconds to pick between the two you think would suit your outfit. for a moment, you consider asking him to help you choose— as you look at him up and down peripherally, and he looks terrified. and you shrug it off, grabbing one of your loafers.

“where are you going?” he asks after a good minute of silence, sounding calmer than earlier as he gets off the couch and walks up to you. his nose scrunches up in disapproval as your hands move to one of your jimmy choos for a brief second, before you decide to go back to your initial pick.

“date,” he takes a moment to register your words, despite this happening many times.

a date. he scoffs softly, looking away, arms crossed.

a date, again. sunghoon doesn’t give a fuck.

“with jay,” you continue, this time with a sweet smile on your face that makes his heart flutter for some reason. maybe, he does give a fuck.

now, sunghoon should feel bad for his fellow friend of a friend because he’s on a date with you, but instead he wants to snap his neck in two. the name is starting to give him an ick— jay this, jay that. you’re hanging out with jay, having coffee with jay, going on a date with jay, shopping with jay, next would be going to bed with jay— he pauses immediately, shaking his head. he doesn’t really like the sound of that.

“whatever,” he tells himself when you walk out of that door, looking all pretty and excited. he doesn’t know why he’s getting so worked up over a date, that too with someone who— according to sunghoon and chaeun— is dating someone else. he would pay to see you back home all miserable and he would point fingers at you and laugh, saying he told you already while you had your conscience and rationality clogged up with the possibility of getting dicked down.

but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re on a date with jay fucking park. and you’re looking hot.

he sighs, slouching back on the couch, looking outside at the bright blue skies and then sighs again. he needs to be lobotomized.

it’s three in the noon and sunghoon is drowning himself in misery and pity. and soju.

a glass after another and then another, along with two empty bottles already on the table. even the owners are giving him a weird look and heeseung can only let him ruin his reputation so much.

“there, there,” the senior takes the half empty bottle of soju from his hand and puts it aside, sighing pitifully at sunghoon. “that’s enough for today. you need to stop drinking,”

“heeseung,” sunghoon looks up at the guy in front of him, looking horribly pitiful, eyes a bit unfocused from the alcohol settling in his system. “do you know yn?”

and heeseung pauses for a few moments, not knowing what prompted him to ask this question. more so when you and heeseung went to the same highschool and even were in the music club. he nods slightly in doubt, raising his glass to his lips. “of course,”

“do you think he’s pretty?”

“of course,”

“do you think she’s hot?”

“of course,” it takes heeseung quite a few seconds to respond and sunghoon sort of wants to punch him in the face for agreeing because he feels a certain way when others find you hot— but he would claim it’s soju giving him heartburns. “why are you even asking this suddenly?”

“she went on a date with jay,” he responds in the most miserable and sullen voice known to mankind. his shoulders practically slouching at the mention of he-who-shall-not-be-mentioned, finger tracing the rim of the glass in front of him with incoherent whines falling off his lips.

“so what?” jake interjects, beckoning the owner for yet another bottle for soju. it was necessary, as heeseung had warned earlier while arriving at the restaurant, considering sunghoon’s impromptu text about wanting to meet up.

“jake, did you hear what i said? she’s on a date with jay. park. jong. seong,” the youngest spells out every syllable, sitting up straight as he gets defensive. “she thinks he’s madly in love with her or something but she’s wrong! the day i went out with chaeun, i saw him with jihye and guess what? chaeun said everyone knows they’re a thing but apparently, yn doesn’t know this. i’ve told her so many times that he is not worth it but she won’t understand she’s fucking dumb oh my god,”

and…silence.

absolute fucking maddening silence that made sunghoon go even more insane before jake finally decides to speak, albeit in disbelief.

“that monologue was unnecessary,” the foreigner pours in another glass for the three of them, filling them up completely, knowing this is going in a new direction yet a one that has been anticipated by both him and heeseung. “besides, since when do you care about her?”

“she’s my roommate,”

“you like her,” heeseung exclaims, and silence follows again for a few seconds before sunghoon gasps scandalously, slamming his glass down on the table which turns a few heads in their direction as jake mutters an embarrassed apology for it.

“i don’t,” sunghoon speaks in a voice much calmer than his previous tone, even leaning in towards the table to put emphasis on his words. jake pours himself another glass, scoff at his words while shaking his head mockingly which only pisses him off more.

“i knew this would happen,” heeseung continues, stating it as a matter of fact while nudging jake to pour him a glass as well. “saw this coming from a mile away when you cried over her going on a blind date the last time you got drunk,”

he can’t point out when that must’ve happened, but he doesn’t refute his words, simply letting his eyes travel across the room for a few moments. the frown on his lips deepens when he meets jake’s knowing gaze as he gets defensive once again. “i’m telling you, i don’t like her,”

“you said that about hello kitty but she’s everywhere in your room now,” he turns his phone with the screen up when he feels jake’s eyes on it, or particularly on the hello kitty sticker on his phone cover as the boy nudges him for another glass. “go on, you’ll need it.”

and sunghoon does, drinking more than he usually does thanks to jake filling his glass again and again for the sake of his sob story. the cab drops him in front of his apartment and he stumbles his way to the elevator. the silence sobers him out for some reason as he leans against the walls of the elevator and thinks about you.

perhaps you’re still with jay, sharing smiles and stories, kisses if you’re brave enough. he likes to think you are not, that you would chicken out— it makes him feel better about himself. he imagines you holding hands with him and then shrugs that thought off his mind just as quickly, huffing at the bitter taste it leaves in his mouth as he walks out of the elevator once it reaches his floor.

sunghoon planned to take a shower and sleep, but every thought water downs to nothing when he spots you crouching next to the door with knees pressed up to your chest. he can’t see your face, but he knows you’re sad, and it makes him stop in front of you, his heart accelerating when you look up at him with glistening eyes.

you look miserable.

and sunghoon has no reaction. he’s frozen, hands on his side as he stares at you. he was supposed to laugh at you for your stupidity. but you look so utterly sad and heart broken, god, he wants to punch jay in his throat. yet again, every single thought leaves his mind when his eyes fall back on your face, his hands instinctively opening out to you as he speaks in a voice as soft as a feather.

“let’s go inside,”

004. CANDLELIT

“he said it was a bet,” you speak over the silence, fiddling with your fingers. you look up at sunghoon— who’s sitting with legs crossed in front of you while you’re curled up in one corner of the couch. “and that he never meant to drag it out for so long but he didn’t know how to tell me,”

“a bet?” he scoffs bitterly, looking away for a fraction of a second before his eyes are back on you. “what an asshole,”

it’s not the first time sunghoon has said that. in fact, asshole is all and the only word he uses to define jay. you still think it was a stretch, for jay isn’t that bad. sure, he lied to you and played with your feelings— which you will never accept that you had feelings for him because you don’t want to look pathetic— but he wasn’t rude. well, at least he paid for all the three dates you two went on with the locations being some high end restaurants or bakeries.

on the other hand, sunghoon stares at you in silence. his eyes trace over your sullen face, and then to your fingers. for a second, he considers holding your hands…roommates can do that at least, right? to comfort one another, but then he catches you looking up at him and he averts his gaze to a distant corner. “don’t start crying now!”

“i’m not! i didn’t even like him that much…” and he can’t help but suppress his smile at the pout on your face as you refuse to look at him. it’s adorable, he never thought he would ever say that, but it’s true. your mannerisms are cute, you’re cute, and it’s eating his brain cells.

“is that so? you talked about him like you two were in love or something,”

“stop it!”

he stares at you quietly for a few seconds again. even though you’re being defensive out of embarrassment right now, trying to prove to him that you’re not heartbroken, sunghoon knows you’ll be crying the moment you’re behind the closed doors of your room. on other days, he wouldn’t care so much. not more than giving a few pats on a back and telling you to suck it up despite the concern in his voice. today, however, he feels differently.

you got played. it’s your heart that’s broken. you feel like a fool, and yet sunghoon is sitting in front of you, trying to find words amidst awkwardness and hesitation. his heart feels heavy for you. it’s unfathomable on his part.

he suddenly remembers the day you mentioned that jay is better than him. he almost scoffs at that, again. well, you might harbour feelings for the american guy but at least sunghoon never had you holding back your tears. and he swears it would never come to that, if you ever have feelings for him because sunghoon would be a better boyfriend— and then he comes back to his senses as soon as those words register inside his brain, cheeks heating up at the sudden thought before he clears his throat.

“do you want ramen?” he manages to change the topic ever so swiftly, getting up from the couch and already walking to the kitchen without waiting for your response. apparently, getting away from you would ease his heartbeat, although hearing your voice has just as much effect on him as your presence or a mere thought of you.

“are you cooking?”

he lets out a breathy laugh at your words, getting two packs of ramen from the shelf. “of course, do you think i’d ask you to cook when you look like you went through a divorce and lost the custodies of all your three kids?”

you frown at his words, although ending up laughing at them just a second later. it’s hard to not laugh at how silly he is sometimes, if you ignore his annoying tendencies. sunghoon puts the water to boil, fighting back a smile at the sound of your laughter. it’s better than seeing you all sad over a guy who doesn’t deserve you.

you get off the couch as well, making your way to the kitchen, wanting to help him since he listened to your sob story. it’s quiet, and you hear slight rumbling outside as you take a quick look at the weather outside through the windows and then within a few seconds, thunder pierces through the silence hanging in the room.

sunghoon flinches visibly, freezing in his stance before the sound of heavy rain fills the kitchen. he turns on the electric stove and it blows out. all the lights in the apartment go out, darkness settling in and disturbed just as quickly as the room fills with bright flashes of light, illuminating your face for a short second before it’s dark again.

“wait, i’ll get my phone— oh,” you reach out for the back pocket of your trousers, quickly get your phone and turn it on for the flash light before it powers off. “out of battery,”

he takes a blind step into the darkness when it thunders again and he notices you standing with your arms around yourself when the light surges in the room for a moment again. he hopes you won’t push him away if he puts his arm around you, but then you two bump into each other. a quiet apology finds its way out of your lips, and he can tell you’re flustered.

“where are the candles?” he asks to distract you from the fact that he’s holding your hand and pulling you aside gently, so you don’t crash into each other again. your hands feel oddly warm in this cold weather, and it only flutters his heart even more.

“second shelf from the right i think,” your voice is interrupted by thunder again and your hands instinctively tighten around his fingers. and then a loud thud follows, causing you to gasp slightly. “are you okay?”

“i can’t fucking see,” his voice is strained, oozing off pain as he lets go off your hands. you open your mouth to speak before he bumps into something again. something falls off the counter, perhaps the spoon by the sound of it and he apologises shortly after. it’s harder to navigate around his own apartment, more than he had imagined.

sunghoon manages to find the candles, setting them on the counter with pure intuition before lighting one of it up with the lighter he always carries around in his pocket. he turns around, almost bumping into you and before he could say anything, he sees you pressed up against one of the counters, face illuminated by the dim candle light.

you’re close, too close, he’s afraid you can hear his heart going crazy at the proximity. his mind is telling him to step aside but he’s too lost looking in your eyes, ( as you are too ) with you looking so impossibly beautiful under the faint golden glow.

“is this okay?” he whispers softly and you simply nod, not a word coming out of your mouth as you find yourself entranced by his face. sunghoon has always been aphrodite’s son, as his admirers would call him, and now that you’re seeing him so closely, you’re realising he’s something much more beautiful.

it doesn’t slip your attention how his gaze settles on your lips for a quick second, your body tensing up at the sudden movement. your breath hitches as he leans closer, dipping his head down. your heart is racing while he feels like his heart has stopped— it’s timeless, as he finds himself just a few centimetres away from your lips, not wanting to stop even though he gives you a chance to pull back, whispering softly, “can i?”

you nod. and sunghoon doesn’t waste another second, capturing your lips with his.

it’s still at first, with your lips only pressed up together for a few seconds. it’s only a few seconds after he pulls back ever so slightly, and then tilts his head to the other side and goes in for another kiss, this time moving his lips slowly against yours. he feels you tense up for a brief while and then melting as you kiss him back, your fingers lacing around his tenderly. you flinch when it thunders again, breaking the kiss, but feeling shivers down your spine as you feel his breath on your lips.

he takes a few seconds, fingers ghosting up your hands to rest on your waist, tugging you closer as he brushes his lips against yours. “focus on my lips,”

and he kisses you again, this time a bit more firmly, albeit it’s slow and gentle at first, his lips moving against yours in a way that's both comforting and exciting. but as the moments pass, he presses in deeper, more insistently. he lets his body press more firmly against yours, his chest touching yours as his tongue gently teases at the seam of your lips. it was working, the way his lips move against yours, it calms your nerves from the thunder but lights them up again when he nibbles gently on your lower lip, his fingers digging into the skin of your waist as he continues to kiss you so fervently.

it takes a passing second for you to realise what you’re doing. it surprises you, however not enough to pull back, or maybe the way his tongue feels against yours stops you from doing so. you’d be lying if you say you hadn’t thought of kissing him before— as early as two days after moving in. and now that you’re actually kissing him, everything feels like a fever dream.

he tucks your chin up with his fingers, pulling you in closer to deepen the kiss. he is a good kisser, sunghoon uses that to boast about himself, he has always been good at this— kissing, bragging, making your knees weak, and all you could do was melt into him wet and sloppy kisses that he plants on your skin.

he dips his head down to your neck, pressing sloppy, open mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, pulling your blouse aside to get a better access to your collarbones and shoulders. it felt like his body has a mind of its own, and he’s only following right behind. when a soft gasp leaves your lips, he moves back to your lips again, wanting to swallow every little sound you make that makes his mind haywire.

your breaths are heavy, hands around his neck with fingers grazing the skin of his nape. a movement that makes him moan softly in the kiss as he presses you against the counter, holding you between his arms. his hand that's resting on your hip moves up, tracing the curve of your waist and then sliding under your shirt to rest on your bare skin, lips curling up in a subtle smirk as he hears you gasp yet again.

“sunghoon—” you pull back, getting a quick glance at his half-lidded eyes when the lightning from the thunderstorm fills the room. he can still feel your laboured breathing on his lips and it does nothing but pull him in even more. after all, sunghoon would be lying if he said he didn’t imagine doing this with you.

“we’ll stop,” he pecks your lips, then trailing his lips down your jawline and to your neck, leaving a trail of gentle kisses along your skin. “when the candle goes out,”

005. WHERE THE LINE FADES

when sunghoon wakes up the next morning, he’s met with cold empty sheets on the side and the memories from last night start flooding his mind. his heartbeat accelerates at the mere thought of you, especially how you were last night and every time his name fell off your lips in bliss and pleasure— he would’ve preferred waking up to you rather than emptiness.

he lays idly for a few minutes and stares at the ceiling, looking for where it all had started. was it the day you told him jay asked you out? maybe not, he doesn’t like to think of himself as a jealous person. it must’ve been when you asked for his opinion on your outfit, he tells himself, you looked too good to be true that day. a few seconds more and he sits up with a soft groan, seemingly unable to find answers to any of his questions.

the weather seems to have improved as he notices the cosy sunlight outside. he slips on this shirt before walking down to the shared bathroom, rubbing his eyes softly and brushing his fingers through his hair with a sigh. he puts his hand on the door knob and looking up in surprise when it opens on the other side.

“oh,” the slight hint of shyness on your face doesn’t escape his gaze, just like how enchanting you look this early in the morning with hair wet from the shower. you bite slightly on your lower lip before the awkwardness in the air is disturbed by your voice. “morning,”

actually, it must’ve all started the day you moved in.

“morning,” he replies back, rubbing his nape and looking away. the weight of questions lingering around makes it hard for him to look in your eyes. “would you like to have breakfast?”

you nod and follow him into the kitchen after making a short trip to your room.

you steal a few glances at him while eating your breakfast, feeling your palms sweat at the thought of bringing it up to him. you avoid it for a few minutes, tossing the question around in your head while trying to make small talks about the ketchup, as bad as it could get. it feels a bit suffocating until you finally decide to address the elephant in the room. “so about last night—”

“it was a mistake,” he cuts you off immediately, a heavy pause following shortly after. he looks up in your eyes for the first time since the morning. “let’s just forget it,”

and his words leave a bitter taste in your mouth. it could’ve been just another one night stand for you had it not been with sunghoon— your roommate, the person you see everyday, the person who managed to give you butterflies the day you moved in. your fingers tighten around the spoon and you consider arguing back for a moment before you push that idea further back in your head.

it could be just another thing added to the lists of things that have been buried, like the time you and sunghoon almost kissed in the elevator last year.

“right,” you nod quietly, convincing yourself that it’s not a big deal. that he’s just another guy in your life like jay. actually, you don’t feel like wanting to compare them anymore. you don’t know where the line marking the difference fades. “of course, yeah,”

you don’t even like the sound of that.

“yeah,”

you don’t wait another minute before leaving your unfinished breakfast on the table and going to your room. his eyes follow your movements, conscience nudging him to chase after you. he contemplates it for a while, and then you walk out with your bag. “i’ll see you after classes,”

and then sunghoon doesn’t see you for the rest of the morning.

or the day, in fact. usually, you two end up bumping into each other at least once, but sunghoon doesn’t see you around for the whole day. he skips spanish, deciding to go back to his apartment earlier than usual. he turns on the tv, deciding to watch a football watch with beer on the side while waiting for you. an hour passes, then another, and another.

there’s no sign of you.

it isn’t until he rings up a few of your friends that he hears that you’re staying over at giselle’s for the night. he wouldn’t blame you, couldn’t, not after everything that went down a night ago. you needed some space and so did he, but somewhere inside he wondered if he should’ve been honest with you when you brought up that topic during breakfast instead of saying the first thing that came to his mind and dismissing it.

but, he dismisses it again, letting you be on your own for as long as you need, knowing you’d come back soon.

which you do, the very next day, much to his surprise. he had expected you to avoid him for at least a week. he notices the way you look when you return early in the morning, tired and exhausted as if you hadn’t got a single ounce of sleep. there’s silence engulfing him but you walk to your room before he could even open his mouth to speak. and then you ignore him for the rest of the day.

he starts feeling annoyed at some point, trying to come up with a reason for your actions. he tries striking up conversations with you and you give short responses, or just nod. when you walk away without answering him when he asked about your day, sunghoon wanted to grab your wrist and pull you back for a second, but he dismisses that idea just as soon as it pops up in his head. he doesn’t even realise how quickly time passes in silence, not until he returns from heeseung’s apartment after spending two nights and one day with him and jake and checks his phone, realising it’s already close to being a week till you’re gone radio silent. he notices a few texts, mostly his study group that have been planning meet-ups to study, one that he rarely attends. his eyes especially squint in confusion at the texts from your mother, saying she had been trying to get in touch with you but getting no response.

he was on his way to his room when he heard the door unlock. a pause, the click of the doorknob strikes through the silence, followed by your footsteps. he takes a few seconds to sort out his thoughts before speaking. “your mom texted me since you weren’t picking up her phone,”

“my phone died,” you give a simple response, almost too quickly for his liking. he lets his eyes follow your movements as you take off your shoes and jacket, putting it on the couch.

it takes him back to the day you told him about jay asking you out.

it was exactly the same— you arrived late, your phone had died. he was asking the same questions, albeit laced with annoyance. today, it’s hesitation, maybe slight doubt. sunghoon can’t stop you from seeing jay, but the idea of you being with him bothers him more than expected. so, he follows up with yet another question.

“where have you been?” he asks, wanting to maintain a casual demeanour even though his heart is pounding in his chest just from being near you. he isn’t expecting any response, actually, however he’s met with surprise when you actually reply.

“with jay,” the words fall from your mouth as if you’re used to them, used to saying his name. there’s an awkward pause before you clarify. “we had dinner together. he wanted to apologise properly,”

“that’s— that’s great,” he manages to squeeze out, but sunghoon thinks jay could’ve left you alone instead of meeting you if he wanted to apologise so bad.

you definitely had feelings for jay, even though they didn’t go as deep for you to come home sobbing your eyes out the day you learnt the truth. to sunghoon, that is enough of a reason to hate him even more. just the mere thought of your heart sinking whenever you’d even think of jay made him fist his hands, nails almost digging in the palm of his hands.

sunghoon doesn’t have much experience with girls. in fact, none at all. flings are one thing, and girlfriends another. he has had both— none too serious. the first time someone asked him out was in highschool, although he’s surprised it didn’t happen much earlier. that time, just agreed to go out with her because his friends were in relationships too and he didn’t want to fall behind. it wasn’t soon before it turned into a competition after he got into university. not his best self, it isn’t something he’s proud of now that he thinks about it.

and sunghoon isn’t half better than jay in that aspect, although obviously not as bad as to bet on going on a date with another girl while he already has a girlfriend. however, if you had feelings for him— as he thinks while watching you walk to your room— he wouldn’t let a single tear fall from your lips.

“about that night,” he follows you into your room, practically hearing his heartbeat echo through his ears. he gulps nervously when he notices you looking at him with a sliver of hope in your eyes. “it wasn’t a mistake,”

“oh,” and you stop in your tracks, having no idea how to respond. an awkward pause follows as you bite your lower lip habitually before speaking, feigning a casual tone. “well, we can still put it behind—”

“i don’t want to,” he blurts out, cutting you off mid sentence. you notice how his voice is quiet as always, yet there’s panic and anxiousness behind those eyes. “i mean, i tried to, but it’s difficult. you’re always on my mind,”

there’s a silver of determination behind his voice. it’s surprising and equally anticipated. sometimes, he feels like he thinks of you every minute no matter what he’s doing. it was never this bad, these days even the regular banters between you two give him butterflies. and sunghoon understand that he might be far from your type in men. perhaps, you actually prefer someone like jay, who treat you to a fancy dinner to apologise, or maybe that guy from a few months ago who can’t remember the name of.

you and sunghoon can be polar opposites and he would still be standing here, fingers fidgeting nervously with the hem of his denim jacket, looking so uncharacteristically out of place. he would choose to have this talk again, as much as he hates confronting, because it never about who your type is and always about the fact that you’re sunghoon’s type— as he realises this when you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, looking at him with lips pressed together. you look cute, more so when you’re awkward, and he can’t believe he’s coming to terms with this but god, he is falling for you.

he is falling hard, and falling deep. it’s nothing like him, you make him nervous, almost as if knocking him out of air whenever your eyes meet, and he would gladly suffocate to death. it was quiet with too many questions hanging above his head, and he noticed the way you fiddle with your fingers with the cutest expression known to mankind and sunghoon knew he was screwed.

“i’ve got it so bad for you, yn, really,” —he speaks as if he’s out of breath due to the nervousness— “really bad. i tried to keep you out of here,” he said, pointing at his chest, cheeks flushing red as the words fell off his lips. “but you won’t go, you just won’t.”

and sunghoon has never been so…out of place, for the lack of better words. it’s amusing, even to you, the way he is right now. the sunghoon from three weeks ago wouldn’t even care but he, now, is pouring out all of himself, as if stripping him naked of his emotions and letting him see what lies behind the suave smiles and prideful words. as if showing you how easily you have him going crazy, right out of his mind and how he can’t help but just stare blankly as his eyes travel down to your lips occasionally— as they do now— and it leaves you in a frenzy when you notice it.

“i can’t stop thinking about that night— not in a weird way, just…” and you’re just standing in front of him, trying not to laugh at his antics. he’s cute, a pause, what the fuck. and then you just go along with it, knowing there’s no point denying it anymore now that you two are having this conversation.

you notice his little mannerisms, like how he can’t look in your eyes for the life in him, how he keeps shifting his weight from one leg to the other. it’s adorable, especially the way he can have all the attention in the room with just his mere presence. that’s sunghoon for you, with a presence so heavy it’s loud even when he’s silent. it’s so loud you can practically hear his mind, of all the words you know he wants to say but can’t. there’s a hitch in his breath, his eyes meet yours for the first time in the past few minutes— i like you— they say, and the next thing sunghoon knows is that you’re kissing him.

“i like you too,” you whisper against his lips after pulling back, your lips brushing against his. sunghoon feels like every single nerve in his body has been sparked, giving him goosebumps when you slowly intertwine your fingers with his.

of course, you know how he feels even before he could say it out loud. maybe, he just made it obvious for you to guess, otherwise sunghoon likes to think of himself as someone who can hide his feelings well. he lets go of your hands as soon as he feels you lace your fingers with his and instead, cups your cheeks ever so tenderly and leans down to capture your lips with his, smiling in the kiss. “i love you,”

˃ᗜ˂ : if you made it till here, i'm sending each one of u kisses >< thank u for reading, i hope u liked it. ps i had to put my heart aside and write jay's name ... never again will i put my man thru this huhu TT he's too good to do these things

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fryingpan1234567 · 8 months ago

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aaaaaanyways. pride month at Camp Half Blood?

if you remember that one post from a while ago (general hc’s about chb), I did say I would do a fully pride post eventually

so without further ado, I present to all my lovely gay demigods:

PRIDE MONTH AT CHB🗣️🗣️

SO we’ve already discussed the decorations of some of the cabins, like Percy putting rainbow hippocampi scales all over the walls, the Demeter and Persephone cabins growing colorful flowers all over their roofs, the Hecate cabin and its Sentient Gay Door

I like to think the Iris cabin is just fully blasting rainbows all the time it looks like a Minecraft beacon

they play capture the flag every June with a pride flag that has the CHB logo on it

limited edition CHB pride merch😭

Mr. D defending trans campers by driving bigots slightly insane long enough to slap themselves and then go back to normal

Y’ALL KNOW ABOUT THE PRONOUN CORRECTION AIR HORNS? THAT’S THE ENTIRE APOLLO CABIN + LEO AND PERCY

Some ignorant prick about a transmasc camper: “Oh yeah she—“

Percy: *AIR HORN* “IT’S HE, BITCH”

Ignorant prick: “Okay Jesus I’m sorry”

A different ignorant prick: *makes some dumb joke about “always being able to tell” and receives at least seven different air horns from all the Apollo campers in the vicinity*

Leo’s been following this one really irritating chick around all day because she can’t figure out one of his sibling’s genders and blasting her in the face every time she fucks up their pronouns😭😭😭

anyways yeah I like to imagine there’s a demigod pride festival somewhere, maybe in New York

or no there’s demigods everywhere I bet they have parade floats all the time in lots of cities and the Mist conceals the “fireworks” which are actually just godly light shows

Apollo rocks up to camp in a rainbow crop top and a pink drink from Starbucks just to sing Born This Way in the middle of the day and then dip again

Aphrodite blessing random queer couples with finding perfect date setups “conveniently” in their paths

all the gods physically restraining Hera when she tries to go fuck with Jason while he’s on a date w Leo

Percy and Annabeth in matching shirts that say ✨BEST BI✨ with the Best Buy price tag logo in the middle

Nico got glitterbombed on June 1st the second he stepped out of his cabin by the entire Apollo cabin (and Jason) and is still finding sparkles in his hair a week later

Aphrodite kids are walking dictionaries of all the rainbow terms, somehow, and they also all know which days in June are for which awareness or pride or whatever flag

campers who transitioned over the school year and coming back to camp a different gender and their godly parent re-claims them as their true self

Percy “I can’t believe I used to think I was straight” Jackson educating some of the younger campers on bisexuality and how, no, you don’t always know right away

Annabeth “I had a crush on Thalia and Luke at the same time and it was horrible” Chase always reassuring the nervous kids that there’s nothing wrong with being queer (and that she’ll fight any homophobic family members they may have)

actually they kind of all do that

Some little kid: “Well……. I don’t wanna tell my stepdad, he might kick me out”

Percy, remembering that his dad kept Medusa’s head after it got sent to Olympus: “Give me your address, I have an idea”

Piper will verbally eviscerate anybody she catches being even remotely homophobic. I mean she will swipe phones out of her siblings’ hands to tell off some ignorant grandmother

Jason does NOT get into physical altercations outside of sparring and literal war, but the closest he ever got was after hearing someone call Nico a slur (Percy and Leo had to physically drag him away from the other guy)

William Solace has white cowboy boots. I Will Start Sobbing On The Spot

Percy and Jason wore matching skirts for the pride festival and it was great— these 6-foot-plus brick shithouses of heroes who have single-handedly won wars aggressively waving tiny pride flags at each other and dancing to IT GIRL on the quad

Cecil and Lou Ellen made these magic rainbow smoke bombs, crawled up on the roof of the Hermes cabin, and slingshotted them into the masses Just Because™️

(Will’s hair was blue and pink for weeks)

RAINBOW WAR PAINT FOR CAPTURE THE FLAG.

Clarisse fucking kicked someone into the lake because they made fun of one of her siblings’ dyed hair

Connor thought it would be funny to leave a mini pan flag on top of Mr. D’s Diet Coke stash, mostly as a harmless joke, but the next day he noticed Mr. D had tucked it into his horrible Hawaiian shirt pocket like a handkerchief😭

watching Love, Simon in the amphitheater for movie night and half the campers had to excuse themselves early for sobbing too hard

Malcolm and Annabeth reread Red White and Royal Blue every summer. They say they’re Henry and June, Connor is Alex, and Percy is Nora

(this is confirmed when the two of them start a foot fight in the dining pavilion with a Chipotle burrito)

Leo IMing Jo and Emmie to wish them a happy pride (and tell Georgina and Waystation I said hello)

Piper and Leo getting into a HEATED debate about whether Velma Dinkley is a lesbian or not

”YOU CANNOT LOOK AT HER OVERSIZED-SWEATER-OVER-MY-PROM-DRESS ASS AND TELL ME YOU THINK SHE’S TOTALLY STRAIGHT—“

”WHAT SHE AND SHAGGY HAD WAS REAL, BEAUTY QUEEN! HOT DOG WATER AIN’T GOT NOTHIN ON NORVILLE ROGERS—“

”LEO! HER NAME IS MARCIE! AND THEY ARE EACH OTHER’S W A L L P A P E R S .”

Jason, sitting in the middle of them, now deaf in both ears: Lupa give me strength

GUYS PLEASE SEND ME SPECIFIC SHIPS OR CHARACTERS TO WRITE PRIDE HC’S FOR I WOULD LOVE TO🙏🙏🙏🙏

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frannyzooey · 1 year ago

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Short Days, Long Nights: 15

Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: Explicit, teeny tiny lactation kink, Joel being real cute with a baby is it's own warning

A/N: ❤ thank you one million times over to @the-scandalorian who always give the best feedback and advice, to @the-ginger-hedge-witch who is always the most supportive and a special shout out to @mrsquill whose advice and perspective was much needed, being the big beautiful brain she is.

Joel picks his way through the woods, brushing aside the sprawling branches that reach out to catch his shirt. A small bundle tucked against his chest in a makeshift carrier, he’s got one hand splayed across it, protectively shielding it. His boots crunch over fallen twigs, and from within the folds of fabric, June’s dark eyes look up.

Flitting between staring at him and the contrast of the treetops as she takes in the surroundings, dapples of sunlight shift and play across her small face, light catching the swirls of her dark brown curls. When she starts squirming, Joel looks down and smiles at her.

“You ready to get up, baby girl?”

Shifting her in the wrapped sling to face his chest instead of lying down, he makes sure she’s secure before he continues, giving her his thumb to hold onto. Her tiny, chubby hand wraps halfway around it and letting her squeeze it, he strokes the soft skin on the back of her hand.

Carefully placed steps to avoid tripping on anything, his boots follow his normal hunting path, only this time he’s not hunting: he’s taking her for their daily walk.

Starting as something he’d hoped would calm her down during her early days, he’s taken to walking all over the place with her while you nap in the afternoons. Never far enough that he couldn’t get back quickly if he needed to, they’ve explored every inch of the woods surrounding the cabin. Sometimes she’s fussy, sometimes she’s still, and sometimes - like today - she’s alert and awake, lifting her head off his chest to peek at the world around her.

“You hear that, baby girl? You hear that bird singin’ to you?”

He talks to her without even realizing it, a constant, soothing murmur.

His lips brush the downy crown of her hair, dragging back and forth just to feel the tickle of softness and he presses a kiss there, turning back towards home.

Home.

He’d begun calling it that while talking out loud to her and then kept saying it, because it was true. This was his home, and hers, and yours. One that, even though summer had begun and she was now here, had become impossible to leave.

He had agreed to stay until she was born, but with every day that passed, he couldn’t bring himself to move forward with the plan. Days had slid together, weeks blurring as he helped care for her while you healed and he knew you wouldn’t be able to make the trek then, so he said nothing. Another month passed after that, and he thought about it - he really did - but couldn’t quite reconcile the concept of a potential threat with the present sense of safety. The danger that had seemed so immediate and imminent and threatening had faded into the background, giving way to the quiet routine of life, and the three of you continued on.

The map was still in the cabin, as a reminder of what was waiting out there, but so were other things:

Her, in her cradle in the corner of the room along with the pillowcase that she’s taken to sleeping with, in lieu of a baby blanket.

You, on the living room floor, your smile blinding as you stretched out next to her wriggling body in the afternoons.

Her basket on the edge of your garden: you working, her small fists stretching and flexing towards the sky, visible just over the wicker rim.

For someone who had little to no experience with it, you’d taken to motherhood like you’d done it all before. The birth, nursing, adjusting to a new sleep schedule, learning what every one of her cries meant and just how to soothe it. A seemingly deep reserve of patience held within you, your constant resourcefulness when it came to everything you had both on hand and inside yourself, he finds he loves you even more than he did before.

Constantly impressed and humbled by this new version of you emerging right in front of him, he tries to let you both know how he feels in his own, wordless ways: referring to and respecting your knowledge and guidance when it comes to planting, delicate brushes of his hand on the small of your back while you talk with him in the kitchen, stopping you while you do chores to guide your mouth to his in a kiss of appreciation. Rocking June to sleep when she wakes, washing her clothes in the river, taking her for walks.

So accustomed to thinking of his own body as a weapon, spending years using it as a means of protecting those he loves, he’s found an entirely new use for it right alongside yours: familiar, tender motions he thought were lost coming to the surface.

Emerging from the woods, the familiar slope of your land comes into view and he makes his way down to the edge of the water. His boots sink into the soft give of the sand, a trail of impressions left behind him, and he drops down to a crouch before fully sitting down. Unwinding the fabric tied around his shoulder, he gently eases June out of the carrier.

Delicate yet steady in his hold on her, he props his forearms on his knees and lifts her so they are face to face.

“How much did you sleep last night?” he asks, a deep frown settling between his brows. Dark bags show under his eyes, and she wriggles in his grip, her legs kicking.

“Felt like you didn’t sleep at all. Keepin’ us up all night with your fussin’.”

She pays no mind to the stern look on his face, the gentle tone of his words in contrast with their scolding, and his lips brush against her cheek, her mouth opening to chase his with a babbling, wet sound.

“You’re cute, baby girl, but you ain’t that cute. You gotta let us sleep.”

She lets out a soft cry, and he chuckles.

“Okay, I take it back. You are that cute.”

They look at each other for a moment, her small, dark eyes studying his larger ones and a familiar glint of hazel captures his breath for a moment, his heart seizing.

Identical to Sarah’s color, the likeness flits through them almost faster than he can catch it, though it doesn’t stop him from staring intently at June in hopes of it coming back. She blinks and looks away, her body flexing in a stretch.

“I saw you,” he says quietly, to himself.

June’s eyes come back to him at the sound of his voice, and the corner of his mouth lifts.

“I think your big sister was just sayin’ hi, pretty girl.”

Impossible to ignore since the moment she came into the world and he caught her in his hands, he saw Sarah in June all the time. Every day: sometimes in her eyes, in her expressions, in her movements. He knew June was her own being, a mixture of himself and you that he loved. His eyes, the shape of your face. His dark hair, your smile. But when he caught glimpses of Sarah in her, he immediately chased the fleeting image before he could think about how much it would hurt to see it. Another chance to see her again, at any cost.

Introducing the memory of Sarah to June as her “big sister,” a burden was lifted from his chest the day he started speaking about her. With nothing but the solitude of the woods around them and her tiny ears to hear his words, once he started, he couldn’t stop.

Years of buried memories, of guilt, of confessions and apologies as his heart ached recounting the things he’d done. All of them laid bare to June, who absorbed them with quiet fascination at the low, rumbling voice of her father. The words meaningless to her and received without the judgment of someone who would actually understand what he was saying, everything came pouring out.

Everything he’d done, everything he regretted, everything he missed.

Once those were let out into the world, he focused on the good: Sarah’s love for soccer, for animals, her stubborn streak that matched his own. Her sense of humor, her girliness, vacations they took and their time spent together.

Emerging from the depths he’d buried it under long ago, Sarah’s memory grew stronger every day and he was surprised to find that it hurt… less than it used to. Something he used to avoid due to the sheer pain that would come alongside the memories, he now seeks them out, to relive them in a new light. Basking in this second chance with her, he looks forward to seeing her in any way she appears in this life.

“You think your momma’s up yet?” he asks. “Or should we give her a little bit more time?”

He waits for an answer he knows isn’t coming, but he studies June’s face like it is, eventually answering himself with a nod.

“More time, I think. You’re right.”

Turning her to face the water, he places her in his lap and with sunlight flooding the bank, they sit and look at the water together.

–

You feel as though you could sleep forever.

Your heavy eyes blinking open, you stay in place and listen. Silence, which means they must still be out and rolling onto your side, you sink deeper under the thin quilt. Exhaustion blankets you, pulling your eyes shut.

Tired. So tired, more tired than you’ve ever been in your life. He catches naps whenever he can, seemingly able to fall asleep for a moment whenever and wherever in the way older men do, but not you. Your mind is a constant whirring machine of what needs to be done next and it takes forever to turn off, but last night she was up for ages, and so when he told you to take a nap, you crashed as soon as your head hit the pillow.

Your face brushing the cool cotton of his pillowcase, you bury your nose into it, inhaling. A need flickers to life inside you, slowly unfurling under the heaviness of your limbs and you wish he was lying in bed with you right now.

In the morning sometimes when she’s in her cradle, you tuck your face into the crook of his neck and breathe deeply, letting your lips catch the edge of his whiskers. When you seek out his skin, he rolls to face you with still closed eyes but finds you just the same.

Still, they are kisses that only awaken, never slake. Early morning sleep soft kisses. Warm skin under wandering hands, until she cries. Never any time to linger in the morning, you can still taste the firm press of his mouth against yours if you try hard enough and the memory of yesterday slips into your sleep-hazed mind, the edges fuzzy and soft.

“What’s this for?”, you hummed, leaning back into him.

His mouth rested on your neck, his lips molding to the slope of it. One kiss, another and his tongue slipped out, tasting your skin.

“Jus’ missed you. Thinkin’ about you.”

“Oh yea? What were you thinking about?”

He kissed your neck again, letting his mouth rest just under your ear. “ ‘Bout the other night.”

The other night: when he held his hand over your mouth and worked you with his fingers over your soaked panties until you came with a broken cry, right before kneeling next to you on the bed to watch you jerk him to completion onto your stomach. Afterwards, he smeared it around and you licked the spend from his fingers.

“That was nice,” you smiled, turning to face him. Threading your fingers through his curls, you offered your mouth to him and he took it, his own need apparent in the way it moved against yours—telling and deep.

Just the two of you for so long before June came along, it felt good to be reminded that he still wanted you like that: as a woman, instead of just a mother. The new role unfamiliar and flooded with a constant rollercoaster of shifting emotions, it was hard to navigate this version of yourself, and even harder to articulate those emotions into words. Joy like you’ve never known blended with bone weary exhaustion and pain. A fierce need to prove to yourself that you could do this, while still wanting him to take the lead. A new found self-pride laced with frustration and sadness and an ache for the way your relationship used to be.

All of these emotions, fading away to be replaced by a happiness you never thought possible whenever you looked at June.

He’s helped you navigate it all, just like he’s always helped you navigate: the group when you had one, dangerous routes when you used to take them, this new life when you made the suggestion. Jackson, should he ever bring it up again. The possibility of leaving was something you hoped every day that he’d forgotten about, but you didn’t dare bring up the subject in case he hadn’t. You weren’t ready. Not yet.

With the idea of sleeping on the hard ground making the comforting cloud of your bed hard to leave, you eventually rise and peek out the window in search of them. The broad expanse of his back sits down by the water, and you see him lift her to face him, murmuring words you can’t hear.

A delicacy to his touch and another side to his competence that you’d never have seen without her, Joel Miller the dad was someone you felt lucky to witness, but the thought of Joel Miller the man was the one that had your eyes lingering on his shoulders and the flex of his biceps under the material of his shirt.

Recalling his kiss from earlier that morning, you walk out of the room to go greet them.

–

“How old are you going to be when she’s ten?”

He groans, closing his eyes. “Christ, don’ ask me that.”

You giggle, and he peeks an eye open at you.

“Your daddy is gonna be wearin’ diapers soon,” you coo down at June, and he’s quick with his reply.

“Who says I don’t already?”

Your playful giggle turns into a full laugh.

“Smart-ass,” he grumbles, a good natured grin at the edge of his lips.

He leans back into the worn couch, letting his head tilt to the side as he watches the two of you on the floor in front of him. The days getting longer with the time of year, evening sunlight streams in through the windows you washed earlier that day and its rays fill the room with enough light to see. The windows open, a breeze flows through.

Rolling from your side onto your stomach, his gaze drifts from the curve of your cheek to the small round of your shoulder, to the wide open expression of pure contentment and love on your face as you coo a soothing murmur of nonsense down at June. She eats it up, her limbs kicking in jerky, excited movements in her splay on her back and she is transfixed by your face, alert and focused.

Filled with gratitude, he’s silent for a moment as he just…watches.

Your finger dangles over June’s grasping hand until she takes it and wiggling it with a smile and a tease, you take it from her and dance your fingers down her belly, tickling. Her tiny body kicks in response, never ceasing in its movement.

An overlay of his shitty QZ apartment blankets the room, and he immediately rejects the image, knowing you don’t belong there. The concrete he's slept on and the endless things he’s done to survive flood his mind and a simultaneous reaction wars within him: guilt, at the idea he doesn’t deserve this life after everything he’s done, and the answering fierce urge to defend it, making sure no one ever takes it away from him.

“You thinking about it?”

Your question drags him to the present, and he frowns.

“Leaving,” you clarify. You look down, your expression turning solemn. “You were quiet for a while,” you say quietly. “I thought maybe you finally remembered.”

Reading the tone in which you deliver your hesitant statement as dreading something inevitable, he’s honest in his reply in hopes to soothe you.

“No,” he says. “I actually haven’t thought about it in awhile. Not seriously, anyway.”

Your eyes lift to meet his and the hope you’re trying to conceal in your expression almost breaks him.

“You were right,” he continues. “We got the garden up and runnin’, got everything all setup like we like. Got a safe place for her.” His chin tilts towards June, her fists flailing in exploration until you catch one in your hold.

“And if someone comes?” you broach hesitantly.

His jaw shifts, his eyes drifting down to June. “If someone comes, I’ll deal with ‘em.”

He will.

There is a finality in his tone, even if he isn’t sure it’s a promise he can make, but it feels right saying out loud. You belong here, she belongs here and he can’t let anyone take that away, not even himself.

You say nothing, searching for the truth on his face and when you find it, the edge of your mouth lifts in disbelief.

“Joel Miller, the optimist,” you tease.

Because of you, he immediately thinks. Instead, he teases right back.

“What, you think I can’t?”

You huff a laugh, rolling your eyes. Your playful expression faltering after a moment, your attention shifts to June and a telltale trembling of your lip catches his eye as you avoid his gaze. Knowing you’re purposefully not looking at him because you’re self conscious about how easy it is to make you cry after June’s birth, he leans forward and drops down to join you on the floor.

“Hey,” he says softly, crawling over and reaching out over her body to grasp your chin. “Hey now.”

You let him guide your face to his, and he sees he's right. A tear rolls smoothly down your cheek and his frown softens with his voice.

“I would never let anything happen to you, honey. Either of you.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” you start, your breath shuddering. You swallow and then surprise him with a watery laugh. “I’m not – I’m not scared of that. I’m just –” you sniffle again, blinking free another tear. “I’m just so happy.”

A sob breaks free on the last word and the contrast of your statement with your reaction makes him laugh, which in turn makes you laugh through another sob. Then, a new sound blends into it from beneath the two of you, one that makes you both stop.

“Did she just –” your breathing hitches, and you look from her to him. “Did she just laugh?”

The first time it’s ever happened, she does it again when you laugh in astonished, watery joy and it only makes you sob harder, tucking your face into the crook of your elbow.

“She’s laughin’ at you,” he chuckles, splaying his hand wide over her belly, grinning down at her with deep dimples.

Taking a deep breath and wiping your eyes on your sleeve, you smile down at June.

“Your daddy is gonna let us stay,” you say to her, your voice thick with tears and joy as you sniff again.

“Only ‘cause your momma has made us such a good home.”

Teasing words covering true, deep emotions, he looks at you and with tears still clinging to your wet lashes, he thinks you might be one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen. So much love shines through your gaze that the intensity of it is almost overwhelming, but he doesn’t look away. He meets it, unwavering.

“Joel,” you start, slipping your hand over his where it still rests on her belly, covering it with a squeeze. “If you ever want to go, I’ll go. I’d follow you wherever. Here, Jackson, somewhere else. Anywhere else. I trust you.”

Not trusting himself to speak without his voice breaking, he just lifts the corner of his mouth and nods before bending his head to press a kiss to the back of your hand.

A silent devotional action, to the one who has given him everything.

Pressing a kiss to the top of his head, you go back to trying to make June laugh and he watches the two of you from his place on the floor, stretched out alongside you.

How could he leave?

—

Attempting to summon the courage while tugging at the silken fabric to make sure it covers all the parts of yourself that you are unsure of, you stare at your reflection in the mirror; his low singing voice coming from June’s room.

All day, you’ve secretly ached for him.

A fire ignited every time you saw him with her: holding her, cradling her, one hand across her chest as she slept next to him on the couch while he read. And without: the short, dark strands of hair at the nape of his tanned neck, the little slice of skin above the waistband of his jeans that peeked out when he crouched. His thick forearms, his firm thighs.

An ache that had been present since you woke up this morning, you’ve missed the man he is: his body, his skillful touch, his masculine, solid form moving against yours. A while since she’s gone down this early, you want to take advantage of the gift of time and show him how much you’ve missed him…but there is still a slight insecurity about this changed body of yours.

Smoothing your hands over the lace that rests over your cleavage as you look some more, the soft scuff of his boots across the floor as he enters the bedroom has you immediately second guessing, quickly turning for your robe.

“She went down okay,“ he says tiredly, scrubbing his hand down his face. He tugs his shirt off with a one handed hold behind his back, kicking off his boots while unbuckling his jeans. Shucking them off to drape them over the chair in the corner, he looks up at your silence.

Frozen in front of him, your hands clutch the robe together.

“You okay?” he asks, his tired expression knit with concern.

“That was quicker than I thought.”

He huffs, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I’m not complain’.”

“Neither am I, I just –” your hands fiddle with the thick material, your teeth tugging on your bottom lip. “I just wasn’t ready for you.”

Studying your face, he tilts his head up, lifting an eyebrow. “Ready for me?” His eyes drop down your body, his posture straightening with interest. “You got somethin’ under there?”

You hesitate for a moment. “Turn out the light first?”

His eyes darken at your answer and he slowly leans to the side, reaching to turn the lantern down. The room descends into a shadowed version of itself, everything bathed in dim warmth and he settles back into position, waiting.

Taking a deep breath and feeling braver in the darkness of the room, you open the robe and let it fall to the floor.

“What’s all this?” he asks, his husky drawl low and slow.

Stepping between his thighs, you take his larger hand in your smaller one and place it over your side, encouraging him to touch. He splays his fingers, searching for the heat of your skin through the thin material and gliding his hold up until his thumb drags lightly across your nipple, his eyes watch as it pebbles under the silk. Arching slightly into his touch, he takes your lead and tenderly palms the weight of your breast.

Hooded, his eyes stay fixed on his hand. “Where did you get this?”

“I found it months ago,” you reply, your tone breathy and warm from the delicate brush of his fingertips over the fabric.

He hums, letting his hand drag down your sternum with weighted exploration, curling firmly around your hip to pull you closer.

“Do you like it?”

“Do I like it?” he asks in disbelief, immediately looking up at you. He bunches the silk in his fists, pulling it tight against your body. His throat bobs, his tongue dragging across his bottom lip as his eyes make a circuit down the length of you and back up.

“My pretty girl, all dressed up for me. How could I not?”

Bending down for a kiss, you place your hands on his shoulders and the hunger in the way he presses his mouth against yours betrays every thought running through his mind. Suddenly more awake than he seemed, he can’t stop shifting his hold on you: his mouth taking and taking, while his hands touch everything he can reach.

When they get to the hem of the nighty and pull it up over your ass, he groans into your mouth when he finds nothing but bare skin underneath.

“Nothin’ underneath? You’re such a good fuckin’ girl,” he breathes against your mouth, right before capturing it again in a devouring kiss. Leaving you breathless, he follows the column of your throat with a whiskery scrape of his beard against your skin, and works his way down, his humid breath ghosting over the tops of your breasts as he gives every inch of skin he finds an open mouthed kiss.

Slipping the shoulder strap down, the fabric falls away and he takes your nipple into his mouth immediately. Letting out a low moan with a pinched frown of pleasure, his eyes close and he draws from you: his hand coming up to cradle the underside of your breast, pushing more into his mouth as he swirls his tongue over the sensitive peak. His other hand digs into the curve of your hip, keeping you in place. Holding on, like you’re the anchor.

Your fingers bury themselves in his soft curls, and he groans. Pulling back, a glimmer of something white is smeared on his lower lip, and his tongue darts out to taste the drop of liquid.

“Takin’ care of my baby, with this perfect fuckin’ body.”

Soaked in worship, his words have you climbing onto his lap as he guides you in place and gathering you into his arms, he tugs your knee up to force you into a straddle over his thighs. Deepening his kiss with an inviting, slick slide of his tongue against yours, a low hum pours out of your throat and you grind against him, seeking the warm heft between his thighs until he shifts and rolls you onto your back, laying you out underneath him.

His humid breath consumes you, the scent of his skin filling your senses. The firm rounds of his shoulders bunch under your touch, his biceps flexing in their strain as he moves above you and his solid torso presses against yours, forcing you into the mattress. His mouth never ceases and neither does yours, every part of your bodies seeking the other out to move in a mimic of the act itself and winding your legs around his waist, he grinds himself against you until you’re whiny and restless underneath him, your cunt slick and soaked against his cotton briefs. When you start to shove them down his hips, he helps.

Tugging them down and kicking them off, his cock drags along the inside of your thigh when he lowers himself back over you.

“I need you inside me,” you moan, reaching for him. “I want it.”

“Yea? You want my cock?”

“I’ve wanted it all day. All day while I’ve watched you.”

His hand joins yours to guide him to your aching entrance, and when the thick, rounded tip of his cock starts to make room for itself, you let out simultaneous groans of relief when he slides in. A singular smooth, filling and fluid stroke, all the way to the base.

“God yes, just like that,’ you plead, and he’s quick to soothe.

“Shhhh, it’s okay, my girl. I got you. I got you.”

Your mind already lost in a haze of need, the whole-body relief you feel is intoxicating, and yet his fullness inside you is only half of what you want. You want to feel desired, like he wants you just as bad as you’ve wanted him and to feel it, you know you need his roughness. The harder edges of his lust, the ones he’s been holding back from you since you gave birth.

You want to taste desperation in his kisses, to feel it in his hold, to have him force it into the slick fist of your cunt because he just can’t help it - and you get what you want the second he starts moving.

“I can’t believe you wore this for me,” he breathes above you, his hand catching the edge of the silk to pull it down and expose both your breasts. He watches them bounce for a moment, moving with every thrust of his hips and then he bends to latch his mouth onto one, the hard suction of it making you moan. Cradling the back of his head, you push yourself into the sensation.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, and all mine. All for me. Ain’t that right?”

His hips rock against yours, the tip of his cock sliding against that deep spot that’s been aching for him all day and you push your head back into the pillow, forcing your hips up to meet every one of his downward strokes.

“God yes,” you pant. “All yours. Only yours.”

“S’fuckin right. My girl. Lookin’ this pretty just for me.”

He brings his mouth down next to your ear as his hips keep moving. “Pussy this wet, just for me.”

You nod, and fitting his face into your neck, he rewards you an open mouthed kiss laced with a groan. He sucks at your skin, his teeth dragging over your pulse and then his mouth finds yours, forcing it open just like he’s forcing you open to take everything he’s giving. Every weighted stroke, every full push inside.

You like his words, but you like this just as much: when he’s so focused on how you feel around him and underneath him that he can’t speak, and you get to swallow his harsh pants and low grunts instead.

Your thighs hitch higher around his torso, your ankles resting on his back and you can feel his muscles shift and flex under your heels, working, working, working. The intensity of your release builds, a fire that’s been banked all day finally being stoked brighter and hotter and he picks up his pace, his arm pushing underneath your back to hook his hand around your shoulder, keeping you in place beneath him. Buried under the weight of his body, you relish being used.

Still just as sensitive as when you were pregnant, fast - so fast - you feel the first ripple of your oncoming release wash over your skin.

“You’re gonna make me come,” you plead, trying to keep quiet.

“Come on, honey,” he encourages it, pressing a thick kiss just under your ear. “Lemme feel it.”

Everything tightening between your hips, a syrupy warmth fills the bowl of your pelvis until it’s too intense and overwhelming and filling — and then it bursts bright and wet, your thighs squeezing his torso as he grunts through every rough stroke that sees you through it.

“That’s my fuckin’ girl,” he groans before kissing you. He pushes in harder, faster, pounding into the slick fist of your sated cunt.

“You want another one?” he asks, breathless and panting, the curl of a smug smile at the edge of his mouth. “Think you can do it again?”

You can’t speak, your mouth parted in a fixed shape as you focus on how he feels inside you right now and when he slips a hand underneath your tailbone to angle you just right, he focuses his strokes downward, causing you to cry out.

“Shhhh, honey. S’okay. You can take it. Gimme another one.”

His voice is lost in the fuzzy edges of your mind, the only thing coming through the soothing tone as he makes you take what he’s giving and when you start to lock up underneath him again, the smile on his face this time is more apparent than the first one. When you start to come, he looks almost proud.

Your nails dig into the meat of his ass, forcing him deeper and he bends and bites the underside of your breast as he picks up his pace. His hands bunching in the sheets, he fucks you harder, faster, and when his hips begin to stutter in their rhythm, you know he’s close.

“Goddamnit,” he groans when you come around him, never stilling in his movement above you.

Frantically needing him to feel as good as he just made you feel, you dig your hold into the meat along his ribs and hold him in place above you, your hips pushing up to work against his. Matching his every stroke down with your own, his eyes shut tight against the sensation he tries not to give into.

“I’m gonna come inside you if you don’t stop,” he warns, the words a tortured groan.

Knowing you can’t do that, you move quickly underneath him, pushing your hands against his chest until he lifts just enough for you to frantically slide down the bed. His slick, stiff cock drags up your belly and along the plane of your chest, brushing against your chin right before you take it into your mouth and when you wrap your lips around it with a firm suck, the groan he lets out is loud and involuntary, his hips bucking forward.

His hand buries itself into your hair, his fist pulling painfully at the roots when he pushes himself in down to the base and you feel his belly jerk with a tremble right before he pours hot and sticky along the back of your tongue. His release is endless, filling your mouth as he stretches out rigid next to you and you swallow every single drop, your throat working as you hold him close.

Working the dregs of it out with a slow roll of his hips into your face, you finally pull off when he relaxes into the mattress with a soft groan. Peppering kisses along the tops of his thighs, you slowly ascend the body you’ve been aching for all day and his hands run lazily over your skin, making room for you to crawl into bed beside him.

“That was…somethin’,” he sighs, a slow spreading smile gracing his face when he turns his head to look at you and you prop yourself up on your elbow, running your fingers through the hair just under his navel.

Catching your hand, he brings it to his mouth with a kiss.

Laying in silence together, the sounds of the night filter in through the open window on the soft breeze that tickles your sweat damp skin. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent you’d been dreaming about all day straight from the source and your bodies slowly relax together, entwined.

When you feel his breathing even out into a slow rise and fall, you peek up at his face. Taking a moment to admire the profile of his nose, his long dark lashes, the gray gathered at his temples, you run the pad of your thumb across his bottom lip in a feather light touch. In his sleep, his lips purse as they chase the sensation and you smile, the movement so like June when you do the same thing to her.

Leaning forward to give him one last kiss, you reach over him and turn out the light.

#joel miller #joel miller/you #joel miller/reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader

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millermenapologist · 10 months ago

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I think that the funniest thing, when it comes to TLOU2 timeframe, is that JJ existing is the best way to quantify how much time has passed since Seattle and the Farm, and yet no one seems to recognize it.

Like, we know that at the beginning of the game, Dina and Jesse have been broken up for ~2 weeks, so let's say she got pregnant one month before the whole shebang. Then, it took Dina and Ellie about a month to get to Seattle, they were there for 3 days, and finally travelled back home. Dina was approx ~2 months pregnant, and then we skip to the Farm chapter, which people treat like exist in an unknown time vortex, but... look at this little guy!

He is teething but not walking nor crawling, which means that he's past the 7 months benchmark for sprouting his first teeth, but not the 9 months one for moving around on his own.

In the Farm chapter, JJ is about 8 months old.

Considering that we do know when Abby got to Joel (March 2nd, 2038), we can say with fair certainty that JJ was born around October 2038 and the Farm chapter takes place around June/July 2039 (which also means that Ellie was 20 for the entirety of the latter part of the story, and not 19).

The real question is: how fucking long did Abby and Lev take to get to Santa Barbara?

#the last of us #the last of us 2 #ellie williams #tlou #tlou 2 #tlou yap

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russo-woso · 10 months ago

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Mini Williamson | leah Williamson x reader

Warning mentions of pregnancy, morning sickness and just a whole lot of fluff

Summary You take yours and Leah newborn baby girl to the euros final

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You and Leah had kept your whole relationship away from the public, up until recently.

It was announced that Leah had been chosen to captain her country to the euros and therefore, had been more in the public spotlight.

Leah soon became a face of England, the one who was going to bring it home.

You loved it, but hated it at the same time.

Your wife was getting the recognition she deserved, but it also meant she was at home less and less.

You couldn’t blame Leah, how could you? You knew this would be the case when you got with her.

Luckily, one of the best thing about your relationship was that you were both open with your emotions.

So when it got too much, you sat Leah down and explained your feelings and within minutes, she had cancelled all her shoots and interviews for the next few weeks.

That way, she could spend time with you, and your baby, who was due anytime that week.

It had been a rollercoaster and a half the past nine months.

During the autumn of 2021, you and Leah decided to go on the journey of IVF, desperately wanting to expand your family.

It was quickly chosen that you’d carry, due to Leah being an athlete, and you began the process.

When you awoke in the early morning four weeks after the final transfer, feeling the urge to throw up, you knew that maybe you and Leah were going to be parents.

You remember the moment you found out.

Leah had been rubbing your back as you threw your head into the toilet.

You looked back and nodded at her.

Without needing any words, Leah knew what you were saying and reached to open the box of tests.

You set a timer and once the alarm echoed the silent room, you urged Leah to turn it, your hands too shaky for you do it.

“Positive. Love, we’re having a baby.”

You sobbed into Leah’s shoulder, happiness taking over your body.

That was just the start of the rollercoaster.

With the baby following in their mummy’s footsteps and wanting to become a footballer, the kicking you got was non stop.

It was safe to say it was Leah’s baby.

When you got to the later months of your pregnancy, the uncomfortableness started to kick in.

Whatever position you were in, you were uncomfortable.

Even laying in Leah’s arms, you were uncomfortable.

You became moody due to the tiredness, constantly snapping at Leah, even if she was trying to help, which always resulted in a sorry and kiss to her cheek.

So when the time finally came for your baby to come, you were ecstatic.

Ecstatic to not be pregnant anymore, but even more ecstatic to meet your little one.

In the early morning of June 6th, your perfect baby girl was born.

The moment she was passed into your hands, you decided that life couldn’t get any better.

Even though Leah was set on calling her Wembley, you both settled on the name Amelia.

Amelia Amanda Williamson.

You and Leah couldn’t have been happier.

You were in your own little bubble with your newborn baby girl and your close family and friends knowing about her.

Due to Leah going to England camp for the euros three weeks after Amelia was born, you made the most of her being home.

After a few cozy weeks being stuck inside, you decided to take Ami on her first walk.

You cried when you put her in her stroller for the first time.

The realisation that she was really yours settling in.

Although you thought it was just you, Leah and Amelia on that walk, fans had taken pictures of the three of you, posting them all over social media.

The whole of England blew up after finding out that the England captain had not only a wife, but also a baby.

Leah officially came out with a statement, introducing you and Amelia to the public, along with a picture of you and Leah when you were pregnant.

Although it wasn’t ideal, you and Leah were both happy that you didn’t have to hide from the public anymore.

The dreaded moment came when Leah left for camp.

After a very emotional goodbye, Leah placed a final kiss to your lips and a kiss to Amelia’s head, and was on her way to the euros.

With Amelia still being so young, you and Leah made the decision that you wouldn’t attend any matches.

Although it killed you not being at the stadiums watching her play, Leah assured you that it was okay, that you were being her biggest supporter by looking after your baby girl.

But when the lionesses made it to the final, you had to be there.

You wanted to witness it, but you also wanted Ami to witness her mummy and all her aunties at a sold out Wembley.

You hadn’t told Leah you were at the final, getting the tickets from Kiera instead.

Kiera got you the best tickets too, in the family and friends section, just behind the subs bench, right by the barricade.

It was nerve racking taking Amelia. You couldn’t help but think she was still too young to be there.

But her paediatrician assured you that she’d be fine as long as she had noise cancelling headwear on.

Ami looked adorable in her car seat.

It was a moist summers day when the final took place so she was in a baby grow, an England shirt over the top, with a thin blanket on top of her.

You got to your seats, Amelia fast asleep in a milk coma.

Everyone’s family and friends came and congratulated you on the birth of Ami, everyone staring in awe at the sleeping Amelia.

Eventually it was time for the game to begin.

Leah led her team out of the tunnel, which brought tears to your eyes.

Whilst singing the national anthem, Leah had a small smile on her face.

You knew how excited she was, but also how worried she was.

Your eyes locked with Leah’s and her whole face changed from serious to shocked.

You blew a kiss to her and she returned two back.

At the action, Alessia looked back from her seat on the bench and her eyes widened.

“Oh my god, Y/N!” She exclaimed, immediately standing up to hug you.

Alessia was like a little sister to you.

You both had met when Leah introduced you to the England girls but it was Alessia who you got on best with.

“Hi, lessi.” You hugged back and less broke the hug, realising that the newest member of your family was with you.

“Is this…” Alessia asked, stopping her sentence as she zoned out, looking at Amelia.

Amelia frowned in her sleep and less giggled at her.

“She’s already got that Williamson frown mastered. Hi, mini Williamson. Tooney, look at Amelia, doesn’t she look like Leah?” Alessia nudged Ella beside her and Ella turned around and awed at the sight.

“That’s Leah but in baby form.”

You all laughed at her statement but stopped once a small cry was heard from the car seat.

“Oh, baby girl, did we wake you up? I’m sorry.” You cooed as you picked her up, resting her on your chest, her head snuggling into your neck.

“She’s the cutest. Even her cry is cute.” Alessia said quietly, scared that she’ll wake Amelia up again.

“It is, but not at 2 o’clock in the morning when you want to sleep.”

Your conversation with Alessia was soon cut short when Sarina suggested she goes and warms up.

With a final hug from her, less jumped up and went and warmed up.

The atmosphere was incredible when Ella scored the first goal.

The whole of Wembley roaring as the ball hit the back of the net.

The atmosphere seemed to calm as Germany scored an equaliser.

Of course, with the three super subs on, Ella, Alessia, and Chloe, the score was bound to change.

And that’s exactly what it did.

Just 10 minutes from the extra time full whistle, Chloe scored the winning goal.

You saw your wife fall to the floor in tears as the final whistle blew.

Tears ran down your face too, you were so proud of Leah.

Your Leah was now a European champion. She was the one that lead her country to becoming European champions.

Whilst everyone was celebrating with one another, Leah headed straight for you.

You enveloped her in a hug, very restricted due to the barricade in your way.

“I’m so proud of you, Le.” You told her, your voice cracking as you held her tighter.

Once you pulled apart, she picked up Amelia from her car seat, pressing kisses all around her face.

Leah helped you jump the barrier, immediately pressing her lips against yours, Amelia still in her arms.

She then walked you over to all the England girls that celebrated as they saw you.

All of the girls loved you just as much as they loved Leah, but instead of the attention going straight to you, it was all on Amelia.

Leah took her over to them, showing her off like a trophy, and all of the lionesses gathered round in a circle, completely forgetting about the other trophy they’d won.

That summer, Leah won two trophies.

A trophy for winning the euros.

But the best one of all, was her baby girl. Her mini Williamson.

#woso community #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #womens football #woso fanfics #fluff #woso fluff #woso one shot #woso blurbs #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #lionesses

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architect-2015 · 1 year ago

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living the fast life - Alexia Putellas

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‘la reina’ and ‘il prescelto’ two women dominating their chosen sport.

Alexia Putellas a two-time ballon d’or winner Carmen Blanc the current formula one world champion.

Two women compared in the media could not be any close together.

(whenever they are speaking english besides in posts is spoke in spanish, it’s easier to write it this way than to translate everything!)

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June 23rd 2024 (day of the Spanish Grand Prix)

@alexiapnews

alexiapnews: Alexia Putellas seen walking to the ferrari motorhome a head of the 2024 Spanish Grand Prix!

Carmen Blanc (ferrari driver) and the Barcelona midfielder have been linked multiple times during the duration of the last two years, no comments have been made in these rumours.

@yn.alexia: OMG THEY HAVE TO BE TOGETHER!

@fanusername1: girl let them live their lives.

@fanusername2: if they are together imagine the f1 x barcelona crossovers we could have!

@ferrarixfootball: 💙❤️🏎️

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

January 31st 2021 (Day of El Clásico)

It was winter break for Carmen Blanco, coming off the back of another successful season in Formula One, second in the Drivers Championship and Ferrari coming third in the Constructors Standings.

Unlike the other drivers on the grid, the Spaniard like to return home to her beloved home city of Barcelona instead of travelling to all four corners of the world.

Being born and raised in Barcelona, her love for football was a big factor in her off season. The Estadi Johan Cruyff might as well be her second home during the winter and summer off season.

Due to her status in the sport community, specifically women in sport, Carmen had been invited to meet the teams after the game.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Following a staff member towards the locker rooms, the young lady began to feel her palms sweat. She would be meeting one of her idols.

Carmen had always admired Alexia, her loyalty to Barcelona mirrored that of Carmen’s towards Ferrari. Both women being part of breaking the barriers for women in male dominated sports.

Once she had reached the door, she reached up and knocked three times on the painted wood. Cheers and shouts of joy were heard from inside the changing room as the door was ripped open.

Standing face to face with ‘la reina’ was something she couldn’t believe she would be doing.

“Hola, you must be Carmen. I’m so happy we finally get to meet!”

@carmen.blanco

liked by alexiaputellas, marialeonn16 and 231,567 others

carmen.blanco: always a joy to be back home, this team has my heart. Forca Barca! ❤️💙

alexiaputellas: thank you for your support, it was amazing to meet you.

carmen.blanco: you too alexia, i was completely star struck!

fanuser1: ALEXIA AND CARMEN CROSSOVER!

carmenxf1: the two best women to do it.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Over the past three months since being introduced Carmen and the players of Fc Barcelona Femení have all stayed in touch, but specifically the spanish captain and the driver.

Having met on multiple occasions for coffee and dog walks with Alexia’s pomeranian Nala and Carmens Dalmatian Lulu. The two had grown increasingly closer to each other.

Currently laid out on a sun lounger in the backyard of her Barcelona home, Carmen was trying to soak up the last of the Spanish sun before her race season begins. A ding interrupts her peace and she leans over to check her phone.

a delicate blush spreads across her cheeks as she rushes into the house to begin getting ready for the night, nervous for what the future holds for her and Alexia.

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oops i realised that for the amount of social media posts i’ve made this is going to have to be a multiple part series.

This spans from January of 2021 to June if 2024 so we’ve got a lot to cover!

i can’t wait to get to Alexia’s first ballon d’or win and Carmen claiming for first formula 1 world championship.

I’m a sucker for a secret romance so 🤭

#alexia putellas smau #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #formula 1 smau #formula 1 x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #woso masterlist #woso one shot

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swantales-aw0owo0 · 6 months ago

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Just a little something I’ve been cooking (attempting to write a secretly married hangster fic so I figured out an entire timeline pre-Tg:m cause the timeline is kinda fucked in the movies)

Bradley is born in ‘84 (June 27)

Jake is born in ‘87 (January 3)

Top gun takes place in ‘86

Carole dies in ‘96 (Bradley moves in with Ice and Mav)(he’s 12)

Bradley’s papers are pulled, he begins to attend UCSD (University of California San Diego), and he stops talking to Mav in ‘02

(College in the fall of ‘02)

Jake, Javy, and Natasha all attend the US Naval Academy in Annapolis together. Jake and Javy bunk together and become fast friends/brothers. Nat becomes friends with Javy but can’t get past Jake’s persona to get along with him. ‘05

Bradley graduates with a bachelor’s degree in PoliSci and a minor in History spring of ‘06

Bradley and Jake meet in the summer of ‘06 right before Bradley goes to flight school and after Jake’s first year at the Naval Academy in Annapolis.

Bradley then goes to Pensacola for 18 months (‘06-‘07) continuing to meet up with Jake whenever possible

Bradley gets stationed at the Naval Base San Diego from ‘07-‘08

Bradley is invited to and wins Top Gun in ‘08 before being sent to the Naval Air Station Jacksonville

Jake, Javy, and Nat all graduate from the Naval Academy in ‘08 and then spend 18 months in Pensacola for flight school (‘08-‘09)

Javy and Jake are stationed together

Nat gets stationed with Bradley who’s heard his boyfriend (husband) complaining about her and befriends her.

Jake, Javy, and Nat all attend Top Gun together in ‘09 and Bradley is sent back to NAS San Diego. This is when Nat finds out about their relationship. Jake scrapes a win at top gun, very closely followed by Nat then Javy.

December 18 ‘10 DADT is repealed

They fly up to Vermont to get married in a courthouse and then “honeymoon” in NY December 21 ‘11 after taking time off for Christmas. Javy and Nat attend as their best man/woman and witnesses

The four get stationed on the USS. George Washington where the “rivalry” between Jake and Bradley is established from their banter over comms and on the carrier. They spend 18 months there before they’re all split up. (‘11-‘12)

Over the next 8 years the four are moved around occasionally stationed with each other. Jake and Bradley have a house together in Cali (Bradley’s parents house) for any free time they have.

From ‘20 onward Jake is flying with the Vigilantes out of Lemoore and Bradley is on board the USS Theodore Roosevelt flying with the Golden Warriors.

‘22 TG:M (Bradley is 38, Jake is 35, Mav is 60)

I spent a long time on the logistics of years and math so if you see any mistakes no you didn’t <3

#bradley rooster bradshaw #hangster #icemav #jake hangman seresin #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction

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kairoot · 8 months ago

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ateez’s little pirates !

꒰ pairing: ateez x poc!reader

꒰ synopsis: ateez’s kids and their bios | obviously these photos DO NOT belong to me, they were just placed for example and cause I thought they were so adorable 💔💔 this is all fiction.

꒰ ateez as dads masterlist

☆. hongjoong. — nelani & aidan

nelani 𑁍 — 2 yrs

full name: nelani ayana kim

korean name: kim nabi [ 김나비 ]

nickname(s): nabi, nana, lani, mini hong, etc.

birthdate: july 15

birth time: 3:05 pm

birthplace: houston, texas, usa

hometown: seoul, south korea

ethnicity: korean , [ your ethnicity ]

language(s): korean, english, [ your language ]

facts about nelani.

nelani is the first born obviously 😽

she’s a daddy’s girl 100% but still loves you

she was born in the middle of ateez’s tour actually..

but good thing it was a day they didn’t have a show

hongjoong had brought you along because he did not want you by yourself with a baby that would pop out at any moment

she’s a very lively girl

loves bubbles (don’t know where she got that from..)

joong made songs dedicated to her when she was born

she absolutely loves dancing

likes painting

aidan ♬ — 8 months

full name: aidan kim/kim aidan

korean name: kim hyeonjun [ 김현준 ]

nickname(s): ai, den-den (made by nelani)

birthdate: april 7

birth time: 6:37 pm

birthplace: seoul, south korea

hometown: seoul, south korea

ethnicity: korean, [ your ethnicity ]

language(s): korean, english, [your language ]

facts about aidan.

aidan is a very calm baby

nelani is way more hyper than him, even when she was a baby

your pregnancy and delivery with him was easier as well

he loves dancing

joong takes him to the studio sometimes

aidan actually loves music a lot

whenever he hears it or someone starts singing to him, he starts movingn

☆. seonghwa. — samara

samara ✿ — 9 months

full name: samara rose park

korean name: park saeyoung

nickname(s): mari, mars (2), etc.

birthdate: march 21

birth time: 9:26 pm

birthplace: [ your birthplace ]

hometown: seoul, south korea

ethnicity: korean, [ your ethnicity ]

language(s): korean, english, [ your language ]

facts about samara.

samara and her dad are literal best friends

you gave birth to her while visiting family

seonghwa named her

during your pregnancy, he would stress over names because he wanted the perfect one for her

you would literally wake up to him writing in a notepad at 2 am 😭

she’s his little helper in the kitchen

she loves eating

☆. yunho. — dylan

dylan ᯐ — 2 yrs

full name: dylan jeong

korean name: jeong yujin

nickname(s): dj, yuyu

birthdate: august 4

birth time: 10:06 am

birthplace: seoul, south korea

hometown: seoul, south korea

ethnicity: korean, [ your ethnicity ]

language(s): korean, english, [ your language ]

facts about dylan.

tbh dylan is a little more of a mama’s boy but he still loves his parents equally

yunho loves playing with him whether it’s outside, inside with his toys or reading to him before bed

dylan is a quiet kid usually

but once he’s used to someone, he’s really giggly and has a warm personality like his dad

(tbh i can see yunho having way more kids than this but..)

☆. yeosang. — elaina

elaina ღ — 6 months

full name: elaina avery kang

korean name: kang dayeon

nickname(s): el, lailai (wooyoung created this)

birthdate: june 8

birth time: 7:17 pm

birthplace: incheon, south korea

hometown: seoul, south korea

ethnicity: korean, [ your ethnicity ]

language(s): korean, english, [ your language ]

facts about elaina.

elaina’s a pretty quiet baby

she’s been very close to you since birth but she absolutely loves yeosang

he still gets a bit nervous because it’s his first time

but he still loves her so much

she falls asleep on yeosang all the time and loves cuddling

☆. san. — august ‘auggie’

auggie ₊˚ — 10 months

full name: august anthony choi

korean name: choi haneul

nickname(s): auggie, bubba, etc.

birthdate: august 10

birth time: 11:37 am

birthplace: incheon, south korea

hometown: seoul, south korea

ethnicity: korean, [ your ethnicity ]

language(s): korean, english, [ your language ]

facts about auggie.

his first name is august but everyone just calls him auggie (mostly did this because i couldn’t decide between august and auggie for a real first name)

absolutely loves his dad — you too of course

atinys adore auggie

san came up with auggie’s name because of his birth month and it’s meaning

auggie can be a sneaky baby

he’s on san’s hip all day, 24/7

☆. mingi. — jasmine

jasmine ₊˚ — 2 yrs

full name: jasmine mae song

korean name: song jina

nickname(s): jas, jj, princess

birthdate: may 27

birth time: 10:06 pm

birthplace: busan, south korea

hometown: seoul, south korea

ethnicity: korean, [ your ethnicity ]

language(s): korean, english, [ your language ]

facts about jasmine.

she’s a daddy’s girl 100%

she’s an exact replica of her dad; his personality, looks, etc.

jasmine isn’t really hyper but she isn’t calm either

lovessss cuddling with mingi

she likes nature

☆. wooyoung. — maria

maria ₊˚ — 10 months

full name: maria areum jung

korean name: jung areum

nickname(s): marie, mo, mookie-pookie (bruh idk i found it on Google)

birthdate: december 16

birth time: 8:06 am

birthplace: incheon, south korea

hometown: seoul, south korea

ethnicity: korean, [ your ethnicity ]

language(s): korean, english, [ your language ]

facts about maria.

silly girl just like her dad (no she’s just like woo down to the BONE)

she never likes to go to bed which is a struggle for you and woo

early bird

she’s very hyper

takes her awhile to get used to people she doesn’t know

☆. jongho. — jun

jun ✧ — 9 months

full name: choi seo-jun (최서준)

nickname(s): jun, juju, junie

birthdate: july 19

birth time: 6:08 am

birthplace: seoul, south korea

hometown: seoul, south korea

ethnicity: korean, [ your ethnicity ]

language(s): korean, english, [ your language ]

facts about jun.

jun and jongho are quite literally inseparable

he lovesss watching whatever his dad is watching, doing whatever he’s doing, etc.

he’s a good balance between hyper and calm

likes sports like jongho, even if he is too young to comprehend it

jongho named him

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hypnotiiize · 9 months ago

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𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬

𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘦𝘹𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘥𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥’𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘮

𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐦 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: this is real old and angsty like not for fake. it’s short though. also i grew up catholic so u gotta bear w the lil references and shit. trigger warning religious talk kinda

She couldn’t remember much of the year if she was being honest.

She could remember her best friends’ wedding.

She could remember Valentine’s day.

She could remember March and April breezing past her, a mixture of Easter and celebrating her friend’s birthday.

She could remember the drowsiness that overcame her in May. She could remember how it followed her well into June.

She could remember her friend’s baby being born, and she could remember smiling down at his tiny squished face.

And she was happy for them, she was. But, when she found herself in her newly quiet home at the end of the day, the reality remained that she was alone. Utterly alone. No one to turn to. No one to rely on. Alone. She felt that this was her fault.

When her friend called and cried to her about new motherhood delivering a swift kick to her backside, she accepted the opportunity to stay with her friends for a few days, maybe even weeks— however long it would take for her friend to get back on her feet with a new addition to the household.

The record was three weeks. July was almost over. Amelie, ever-grateful, had even told her that she could go back home if she wanted. The woman, not wanting to overstay her welcome, accepted that as well.

She had been accepting a lot of things, it seemed. She would leave the following week, after the event that was planned meticulously for the baby.

It was when she was getting ready to go to sleep early— the baby had a habit of scream-crying at the break of dawn and she liked being up with him— that she received a knock at the guest bedroom door. Curious, she tip-toed across the room and found herself opening the door to reveal her tired friend whose smile grew as she rocked her fast-asleep son. [y/n] invited them in and grabbed the baby at once, sitting on the bed with his little body cradled in her arms.

“Okay, I wanted to tell you so that you weren’t, like, bombarded with this,” Amelie began after a small chat about how the baby had just done something cute.

She involuntarily put pressure on her eyebrows, furrowing them together.

Amelie folded her hands in her lap. “You know his baptism is next week and you know you’re his Godmother, of course... I tried to talk Trent out of it, but he’s going to make you know who his Godfather.”

She could feel herself gasp at the mention of you know who. She definitely knew who.

“If it makes you uncomfortable, I get it. And I get it if you’re not ready to see him. I can have someone else step in as his Godmother for the ceremony if you can’t do it. You don’t have to go to the party. What are you feeling?” Amelie asked.

She bit the skin of her bottom lip. She looked down at the almost two-month-old who looked so much like her friends that it was crazy. He was blinking up at her with his bottom lip poked out, looking scandalized. She laughed and rubbed the pad of her finger over his dark waves.

“I’m feeling a little overwhelmed… But I can do it. I don’t care about him. This is for my Godbaby. Right? This is for my Godson,” she cooed to the baby who half-smiled.

“You’re sure?”

“Sure. Yes. Yeah.” She was trying to convince herself more than anything and she knew it. “No one cares about that man, anyway. It’s just Rayan’s day..” The baby smiled as if he knew what they were talking about, and the women fussed over him a bit more. When the familiar weight pressed itself against her shoulders, She sighed. “I need a drink.”

“Go raid Trent’s cabinet, girl. You know he’s not shy about Don Julio,” her friend joked about her husband.

There was a painful twang in her chest at once. Her husband. Her friend was joking about her husband. A man who she shared a child, a home, and a life with.

She could taste iron. She would later realize that she had bit the inside of her cheek open. For now, she chopped the stinging sensation up to the of moths fumbling about in her stomach.

Her friend took her Godson and she was left alone once more. She laid her head on the linen pillow and stared blankly at the room before her. Wistfully, she imagined Amelie and Trent embracing each other at the end of the very long day. She imagined them nuzzling against the other as they gazed down at their sleeping baby boy. Then, she imagined everything that could have been.

She fell into a slumber with remnants of saline tears on her cheeks, and she woke up days later wearing a crisp white blouse and her best earrings. Rayan’s baptism.

He barely left his mother’s arms that day. He was tiny and it was a big day for him and he was wearing a long, pristine white dress that used to be his grandfather’s when he was that small. So Rayan slept, and she tried not to kick open the church doors and run as far as her legs could take her.

She knew he was in the room. She could feel it. If she opened her mouth to speak, she could taste it. If she inhaled too deeply, she could smell it. His presence was the sustenance that her soul had been missing for far too long and she was being punished for it. Her hands were shaking. She slipped off to the bathroom three times before she realized that her issues could affect the day. Being unreliable or looking flaky was the last thing she’d wanted to do after making it so far through the day. When she sat back down in the pews, she crossed her hands extra tight in her lap and kept her neck arched high. She would shake it off. This was for Rayan.

After some time she stood with her friends and made her way to the front of the church. She could feel him behind her. Then beside her. She willed herself not to look at him and focused solely on swearing to remain a key figure in the baby’s life.

For you, I’ll do my best.

He made his pledges after her. She felt as if she couldn’t breathe. He was so close to her. She could feel the echo of his baritone in her feet. She could taste iron, far more pronounced this time.

The baby was placed in her arms, and the metallic flavor dissipated at once. She secured her arm around his head and tugged his gown down. He whined, only to stop a second later when his mother kissed his hand.

The priest asked the Godparents to move closer. She stepped forward and nodded when appropriate. The priest said something that she didn’t really catch. She had been too busy making sure Rayan was comfortable. Brown hands came forward and untied the loose strings around the baby’s neck. He pulled the baby’s hat off. She could hear the ocean in her head.

She leaned forward and lowered her elbow an inch. The priest placed his hands in the tub of water before him and her. He poured water on the baby’s dark tufts of hair. One hand, then two, then another for good measure. Rayan let out a short cry from the temperature of the water.

“It’s okay, honey, you did great,” she whispered to her Godson when it was all over. She held him tighter, closer to her face.

“Maybe he’s cold,” the familiar voice said. “Here, let me put his hat back on.” Brown hands came into view and she watched him make the loose loop-the-loop. Rayan calmed down.

Rayan’s parents came and uttered softly to their son. His mother fought tears. His father let them glide down his cheeks freely, rubbing the top of the baby’s bonnet with a thumb.

“Hey,” the Godfather’s low voice was saying. He was not whispering. Anyone could have heard him. Though, when she thinks back on the moment, she can remember the soft, whispering tickle of his breath hitting her ear. She wanted him to be whispering.

She greeted him back weakly and she did not try to hide it. With everyone focused on Rayan, the awkward encounter would just be their own and she could not muster the strength to make it anything but.

The corner of his mouth quirked up, weakly too, and he said, “You look really nice.”

All at once, she could hear the ocean. She could hear volcanoes erupting. She could feel the familiar sharp chill of ice, and she could smell the smoke of paper burning.

She could not remember what her response was, or if she even responded at all. She could only remember the pain of living without the only man she had loved for months after being together for so long.

Through the fog, a voice prompted, “Let’s get a pic with the Godparents.”

She craned her head and found herself staring at a man that she had gone to school with. Kareem was known for being tall, charismatic, and a photographer. Therefore, she was not surprised that her friend had invited him to the gathering. Though she wished that someone would have filled him in on the current situation before he suggested such things.

Rayan’s parents moved away. She took a half step closer to Rayan’s Godfather. Rayan’s Godfather took a half step closer to her.

For the first time in months, they were pressed against each other.

Her chest felt hollow. Icy. It burned to inhale. It took too much effort to exhale. She lifted the baby so that he was perfectly between them. A brown hand fixed the baby’s dress. Fingertips grazed fingertips. She could taste iron pooling just behind her teeth, and then she smiled.

Her first tear fell when the camera shuttered for the last time. The people were emotional, too. They spoke to the baby in whispers. The Godfather left her side to go gawk at his Godson.

It was only her in the center of that stage. She was alone. There was no one in her corner anymore.

She had no husband. No new baby to baptize. No boyfriend to envision her future with.

She felt as if she was going to drown. She sucked in a burning breath.

She tasted the iron.

#jude bellingham x black reader #jude bellingham angst #jude bellingham x oc #jude bellingham x you #x black fem reader #x black reader #trent alexander arnold x black reader #trent alexander arnold #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine

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writingroom21 · 8 months ago

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Sweet Escape

Pairing: Rafe x single mom reader

Summary: Moving to Kildare with your best friend and daughter was the perfect move. The little island is perfect, the people are nice, and you are finally at peace. Then Rafe comes in with his perfect smile and charm, sweeping you off your feet. The only issue is if you are ready to let someone else in.

Warnings: None

Wc: 5.1K

series masterlist

Chapter 1: You again

The breeze blows your hair, obscuring your vision from the boxes in the back of the moving van. The weather was nice here in the outer banks, different to what it felt like in New york. Moving here right when Spring is in bloom was the best decision. Back home it’s still cold, barely even warming up. But here it’s so beautiful. The waves from the water behind the house hit the dock, the lapping sound making its way to the front.

“Grandma is having a blast with Vi right now. I know she’s glad to have a baby in the house again.” Jo your best friend says as she walks into the van to grab another box. It was her idea to move her. Her grandma was getting older and she wanted to come take care of her. When she figured it all out she just handed you tickets, telling you that you weren’t going to stay there longer.

Without consulting you she had talked with her grandma to let you and your daughter Violet to move in with them. She wanted to get you as far away from New York as she could. Jo is the type of best friend that feels responsibility for her friends. It was that way when you were children and it got worse when you had your own child.

The moment you found out you were pregnant she was there to cry along with you. She was there in the delivery room when your precious little girl was born. Every step of your life has been with her, never allowing you to go through it alone. You couldn’t be more grateful to have her in your life.

“That’s good. I’m sure Vi is going to love being around her. Two peas in a pod probably.” You try to not get into your head as you pick up a box of Vi’s things. When you told your parents you were pregnant they weren’t happy. To be fair you were eighteen, fresh out of highschool. They tried to be supportive but couldn’t look past it when their friends from church started to talk.

They had kicked you out right before you gave birth, leaving you to be stranded. The father was a nightmare to say the least and that wasn’t an option for you. He was a mistake that you wish you could take back. A reminder of being what your family wanted to only be their disappointment. He seemed perfect to them but deep down he was a monster, no one you want around your baby to begin with.

The only option you had was Jo. Her family wasn’t like yours, they took you in with open arms. Embracing Violet as one of their own. Even though you lost your family that night they forced you out, you found another that loved you more. For two years it was perfect, Vi was growing up nicely, hitting all her milestones. You had a good job and had saved up enough money to move out on your own. Which was perfect timing since Jo was going to move here.

Then a week after she informed you of her decision you got a call from a lawyer. “Hello?” You answered. “Hi, I'm looking for.” He says your name for clarification. “Yes, that's me.” You were confused on what this could be about. Worried that it was your ex. “I’m sorry to inform you that your parents passed away the other night in a car accident. The wake will be this week and the Will reading is after.” The shock of their death didn’t settle in fully until the reading.

They had left you everything, they had abandoned you yet they left you everything. The next few months of winter were filled with you selling their house and settling the bank information. Getting the move ready so you and Vi would be comfortable once in your new home. Leading to now, standing in front of the house that is yours.

Grandma June had a pretty house in a nice neighborhood. The backyard was big and the water was right behind. A complete contrast to what you had growing up. You grew up in a townhouse, Jo right next door. It may have been more room then a regular apartment but you still had little room. There was no backyard to play in, the only time you had outside was going to the park.

Your life, even if it may not have been bad, wasn't perfect either. Your parents preached religion and the bible until it was shoved down your throat. Telling you what you can’t and can’t do by the eyes of God. Introducing you to their friends' sons to meet the proper boy, look at where that got you. This move was a chance to continue to better yourself and give Vi the chance of being herself.

You set the box down in the room that is now Violets. June had moved herself to the guest house outback stating that she doesn’t need all of this space. She had given the deed to the two of you, gifting the home as a thank you for not sending her off to a home. That meant you all had your own rooms. Vi still tends to sleep with you so her room is more decoration.

“Who would have thought we would be here?” Jo’s voice says from the doorway. You turn to look at her. “Me a twenty-one year old with a two year old or that we moved out of New York.” She pounders for a moment, finger tapping her chin. “Hmm I was going to say us moving here but the toddler thing works too.” She laughs walking into the room more.

“We should paint the walls this week. Grams said there’s a paint store we can get it at. Should be near the shop.” You smile at her as you both go to get more boxes. Before moving here you wanted a stable job where you would be able to be with Violet more often. In New York you were a receptionist so you would have to leave her with Jo’s parents. So it was important for you to have the freedom to be with her since you can’t rely on June.

When you were looking around for jobs online you had seen that a flower shop was going for sale. Growing up you had always loved flowers. Books of plants, flowers, and gardening stuffed your bookshelves. With the money that was left to you from your parents you decided to buy it. Was it a long shot? Maybe but it couldn’t hurt to try. This way you will be able to have Vi with you at the shop without paying for a sitter.

With the van unpacked it was close to dinner time. Too tired from the day you and Jo decide to order pizza. But you make Vi her own meal on the side to have. You’re stirring the noodles that are in the pot when tiny footsteps can be heard. “Momma.” A little voice yells. You drop the spoon, turning to squat down. “Vi. How’s my favorite flower doing?” She giggles as you blow kisses on her neck and squeeze her tight. “She’s been such a little angel. Are you sure you don’t want to just leave her with me during the day.” June asks as she walks into the kitchen.

“Oh no I couldn’t ask that of you. Anyway, I want to spend as much time with her as I can. She won’t stay this small forever.” You finish up Vi’s food just in time for the pizza to get there at the same time. You all sit down and eat. You cut up tiny pieces of your pizza to let Vi try to see how she will like it. The table laughs when she smacks her lips and signs for more.

The rest of the night was pretty uneventful. Your routine consisted of giving Vi a bath and putting her to bed. Then finishing up some things before tucking in for the night as well. Before you know it the alarm is going off and it is bright outside. It’s seven o’clock so you have roughly thirty minutes before Vi gets up.

Quickly you head to the bathroom for a shower rushing to head downstairs and start breakfast. When breakfast was finished it was time for her to wake up and you go to her room. Which she actually slept in last night. She’s rubbing her eyes, burrowing her head back into her pillow. “Goodmorning baby girl.” You softly say as you rub her back to gently wake her up more. “Hi momma.” Her voice is like music to your ears, always making you smile.

Slowly but surely she gets up, both of you entering the kitchen to eat. “Morning.” Jo yawns over her coffee mug. “Morning.” Strapping Vi to her chair, you place her plate in front of her before grabbing yours. Jo sits down across from you as she sips from her mug. “Any plans for today?” You finish chewing the piece of toast and look up at the girl in front of you. “Going to the shop. Want to work some stuff out before it opens again.”

“Bug and I can chill her with grams while you do that. I have the day off.” A sigh of relief is released. “Thank you. I need to make sure the ship of flowers is accurate. I need to restart the garden in the back.” Jo let’s out a “damn” while shaking her her. “Good luck with that. That sounds like a lot of counting. Counting yucky, right Vi.” The end is talking to the toddler. Her giggle lighting up the room.

After finishing Vi’s morning routine you change into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. The weather was nice but there was still a chill in the air. You walk down the stairs to see Violet on the floor of the living room playing with some toys. “Hi sweetie. Heading out?” June is sitting on the couch smiling at you. “Yup I’m going to the shop today. Do you need anything while I’m out?” She shakes her head and laughs when Vi hands her a toy. “I’m okay. Now go ahead before we keep you here.”

June has been in love with Violet since she was born. She had visited Jo’s family right after you got back from the hospital. From that moment on she was always asking about her and buying her things. She said it was the first baby since Jo so it’s like she has a great grandbaby. Everyone was so kind about you having a baby so young and you couldn’t be more grateful. Which is something you wish you could say about this flower delivery.

The flowers were delivered yesterday right before you all started to unpack. You had rushed to let them in and place everything inside that you didn’t pay attention to when they did. The previous owners of the shop were older and couldn’t keep up with it anymore. The garden they had in the back that grew some of their flowers was dead and the others wilted a long time ago. So ordering flowers to fill the story was the only option you had.

Which seemed really great at the time but now it doesn’t. You had come in and set your bag down on the counter. Looking around you see the endless sea of flowers staring at you. You go to the back to the office and get the clipboard you had placed there yesterday. Painfully slow you separate the flowers by their species. Having to count every single one was starting to prove to be a difficult task.

One that got even worse when you found out you were short on some flowers. This wouldn’t have been a problem if it wasn’t for the fact that they were popular flowers. Roses, tulips, baby’s breath, carnations, all flowers that people love. You were opening up the store in two days and you need to make sure you have a good supply. June had said that a lot of the rich folk like to throw parties and will buy flowers. You need to be prepared just in case.

You were in the middle of counting the Anemone when the store's front door started to rattle. Stepping into view of the door there’s a tall man standing outside with his back to you. He’s on the phone and using his hands to talk wildly. The man turns around again to try the door and sees you standing there. He snaps his fingers at you and points to the door handle that’s locked.

You walk over and unlock it, opening it slightly to ask him what he needs. “Can I help you?” The guy is tall, handsome, his hair is growing out from a previous buzzcut. He has on a shirt that is too tight on him and a pair of khakis, not usually what you find attractive but he pulls it off. “Yeah. For starts you can let me in and second you’ll put my order in.” He holds up a pointer finger at you.

“I know. I’m here right now, if the new girl would let me in it could go faster.” He says into the phone. “Listen, I gotta go. I’ll let you know when they will be delivered.” You give him a complex look. “Sorry but we aren’t open right now. You have to come back in two days.” You try to close the door but his foot catches it. “Look, I really need an order for tomorrow. The florist we were using canceled and I need them. There��s a banquet and the stupid tables need flowers.”

You look back at the store and at him again. It wouldn’t hurt to do this order but you haven’t finished inventory yet. He could be asking for flowers that you can’t even give him. “I’m sorry but I’m not even open yet.” He interrupts you. “Well just open the store up and ring me out. I get you are new here but come on.” His tone is rude, annoyed that this is taking longer than he wants. “No, I can't just open up the store. I’m new here because I just bought it and I don’t even know how many flowers I have yet. So no I can’t help you, I’m sorry.”

He scoffs at you. “Do you normally buy things you don’t know if you can handle or is this a spur of the moment thing? I need those flowers.” This guy really has some audacity. “Do you normally talk down on workers or are you just a asshole?” Your head tilts to the side, looking up at him. The sun is burning your retina is making it hard to see anything but the lower part of his face. Even through the pain you can see the smile that crept on his face.

“Good luck with opening this up. I can clearly see the customer service is subpar.” With that he’s walking off down the street, pulling out his phone to probably call someone else. “Hey asshole, the flower delivery was short with some. So that’s the main reason I can’t help you. Don’t just assume shit.” Without looking back he calls out to you. “Sounds like an issue you need to fix. Try calling them up next time.”

Fuck. Of course you could just have called them this whole time. Quickly, you get back inside to finish the inventory to see what else is missing. After another hour you are done, exhausted from all the back and forth. Sitting down in the back office you call the distributor that you had used, explaining to them which flowers were short and how many you would need. Thankfully the lady on the other end didn’t give you any trouble, telling you she would have them delivered tomorrow.

By the time everything was done it was around 5:30, which meant you should head home for dinner. The drive back to the house was peaceful. In New York you really didn’t need a car, you had spent most of your time in the city so you took the subway. Every now and then you would have to drive to family in the suburbs, this reminds you of that drive. Seeing the trees and greenery is like a breath of fresh air.

It was a reminder that your old life was left back States away, no monsters here to haunt you. It’s refreshing knowing you got a new start and that Vi will get to grow up in a good place. When you get home it’s ten minutes until dinner should be served, at least for Vi. She’s on a strict schedule and will get fussy if she doesn’t eat or sleep at the same time.

You were greeted with shouts coming from the living room, footsteps playing the floorboards like a piano. “Momma!” Vi screams when she sees you in the hallway. “Hi pretty girl. How is my favorite doing? Had a good day?” She nods, tiny hands wiping her hair off her face. “Ya. Jo play.” She points to your friend who’s standing behind her. “She’s been making me run around for hours. How do you do this all the time?”

You pick Vi up, walking towards the kitchen as you give her a bunch of kisses. “Lot’s of coffee and I have amazing people who help me.” Jo throws an arm around your shoulder walking with you. The table was already set, plates filled with food. “Yeah we are pretty amazing. So amazing that grams are giving us the night off.” You place Vi in her seat and look at Jo. “What do you mean?”

She puts Vi’s food down in front of her before sitting to eat her own meal. “She means that you two are young and need to have fun. So I’ll stay here while this angel sleeps. Have fun for once.” June says as she makes her way back from what you assume is the bathroom. “Before you even try to say anything I told her she didn’t have to. She won’t take no for an answer so tough luck.” You don’t even argue, Jo’s parents always say she got her stubbornness from June so that is not a hill you want to die on.

Over dinner you tell them about your day. Explaining how you found out there were flowers missing and that you had to call for new ones. Finishing off your story telling with the asshole who thought he was special so that made him entitled to your flowers. “Sounds like a dick.” Jo said without thinking about the two year old sitting next to her. “Sorry.” June thought it was hilarious. Saying “it’s about time someone told those snobs the world doesn’t revolve around them.”

After dinner you spent time with Violet. Playing some more with her toys, then a bath to get the dirt off of her, and then reading bedtime stories to her. After each one she would let out a “nader'' informing you she wanted another story. The third one is always when she falls asleep, as soon as the first words are out so is she. Slowly and quietly you slip out of her bed and room.

“Ready?” Jo’s voice scared you, jumping from the fear shooting through your body. “For fucks sake Jo. Let me just change into a different shirt, I have Vi drool.” The other girls face twists in disgust as you pull that part of your shirt to show her. Not the worst thing you’ve had on you since becoming a mother but she still finds it gross. After changing the two of you head over to a bar.

The place actually looks really nice. There are lights strung up on the outside seating and the inside has amazing decorations. “What do you want? I’ll go get us the first round while you find us a table.” The first round? Damn Jo meant it when she said we will be living up the night. You haven’t really been out since your 21st, having a daughter doesn’t give you a lot of time to go out.

Plus you never really drank in highschool so this is a whole new ballpark for you. “Um I don’t know. Just get me something you will think I’ll like.” With that she was off to the bar as you found a table to sit at. The drink she came back with was in a tall glass and is yellow. You take it from her hands inspecting it. “What is it?” She rolls her eyes at you and takes a sip from her drink. “It’s a passion fruit mojito.”

You like passion fruit so this should be good. Oh yeah, that drink is delicious. You take a good few sips of it. “That’s fucking delicious.” Jo laughs at you. “Told you.” The two of you sit there for a while. Taking your time to finish your drinks. When they were done it was your turn to go up and get drinks. Since Jo is driving back she just wanted water but she insisted that you had to keep drinking.

The bar is a little more packed now, so you’re stuck waiting for the bartender to come around. Tapping your fingers lightly on the counter surface you space out, not realizing that the seat next to you was moving. “He won’t notice you for another five minutes. Blaire just sat down so he’ll be chatting her up for a bit.” The voice next to you sounds familiar, turning your head you can see why. “You again.” The guy from earlier smirks at you. “Now why does that sound like a bad thing?”

You look down at the other end of the bar to see the bartender flirting with a girl. Crap. “Maybe because you were rude and entitled. But hey what do I know?” Your brain is telling you to leave, just tell Jo you’ll go back up in a little. Then there’s a little voice in your head telling you to stay. For some reason there’s a part of you that is curious about the stranger.

“Pfft me entitled or rude? You’re the one who said that you wouldn’t let me order flowers.” Your eyes narrow at him, his arms shoot up in defense. “I know your shipment was fucked up.” He gives you a curious look. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“That’s because I just moved here. Don’t really know anyone besides my friend and her grandma.” You point back to Jo, his eyes following to see your friend with a wide eyed expression. “I don’t think I know her. Think I’ve seen her before but years ago.” He looks back at you, examining your facial features. You’re really pretty, he was too wrapped up in frustration earlier to notice. He’s sure noticing it now though.

His chair seems to get closer to you, scraping against the sticky floors. “Where did you move from?” You had expected him to stop talking to you yet here he is asking you questions. “New York. I lived there my whole life.” He leans his arms on the counter, looking at you from the side. “Nice, I’ve been there a few times. Do have to say the pizza wasn’t actually good.” You gasp at his outrageous statement. “What? You’ve got to be joking, it's the best. You just didn’t go to the right places, probably some fancy restaurant that sells those tiny portions.”

He’s cracking a smile from your mini rant. You’re right, it was one of those restaurants. The ones where it cost $400 to just get a table and everything is super expensive even though it's a meal for ants. He’s never seen anything wrong with those places, grew up his whole life eating at them. In this moment he wishes that wasn’t the case, that he knew how to be a normal person and not someone with money. He would have never been caught at a dingy restaurant eating food yet here he is longing to experience that. An experience he didn’t know he was missing until your reaction.

“Oh my god it was one of those places. You can’t say you’ve been to New York if you haven’t really tried their food.” He turns on the stool so his legs are facing you. “Wouldn’t that technically be their food as well? They have high class restaurants there.” He likes the way your eyes roll at him, wanting them to do it in a different way. “That’s like going to Italy and eating at fast food places we have in America. Yeah it’s their version but it’s not actually Italian food.” “I would never. Italy is too perfect to not eat their food.”

You look at him, a smile plastered on your face. “Please don’t tell me you’ve been to Italy and I’m making a fool of myself.” He can’t help but to chuckle at how cute you are when you are nervous. “Alright I won’t say anything.” He shrugs. You let out a groan, of course he has. He looks like he has money so what else did you expect. “What can I get you?”

The bartender cuts the moment the two of you were having. “Can I get a whiskey and whatever she’s having.” You look back at Jo and she sends you a thumbs up. “I’ll just have a passion fruit mojito.” The bartender leaves you two as he goes to make the drinks. “Wouldn’t have taken you as a mojito girl?” You look at him, blush forming on your cheeks. “Yeah? What kind of girl would you take me as?” He doesn’t know if you are flirting but he sure the hell hopes so. “Maybe a margarita. I feel like you’re a tequila girl.”

You giggle at the implication. “The last time I had tequila it got me in trouble.” It did, that’s how you ended up with a baby and being kicked out. “I like trouble.” Fuck. You had told yourself when moving here to just stick to yourself and everything will be fine. THen this guy walks in and you want to throw it all out the window. It’s not fair, he’s too hot to even say no to.

“You know I got to say I never met a florist as pretty as you” He tells you, leaning in closer but keeping a good distance. “Are you flirting with me so I can change my mind about those flowers?” He laughs, turning so he is now facing you, resting his weight on the counter top. “No, just flirting. Would it help me get them though?” Now it’s your turn to laugh. “You are not getting flowers. I would still have to prepare them and I wouldn’t get it done on time.Plus who knows if the reshipment will get here on time” You take a sip of your drink.

“What if you had help?” Your eyes look into his. They're pretty. A shade of blue that in this light somewhat seems gray. They remind you of Vi, she had pretty blue eyes too, that she got from your mom. “You would hire help for me?” He scoots closer, his hand playing with the ends of your hair. “I could help you.” His fingers brush against your arms. The words seem to have an undertone of something. Simply suggesting something else. “How?”

The smirk that forms on his face makes you want to kiss him. His hand clears your face from stray strands of hair, eyes locking to yours. “However you want me.” This isn’t really feeling like you’re talking about flowers anymore. You aren’t sure if you should shut it down or keep going. The drinks were placed in front of you, he doesn’t take his eyes off of you as he hands the bartender his card. To relax yourself you take a sip of your drink, which only makes it worse. Now your relaxed mind can only think about dragging him off somewhere to see how much he could really help.

You’re interrupted before you can make a mistake. “Yo country club we gotta go.” A man walks up to the two of you. He nods at the guy. “Give me a sec.” The man looks at the both of you and shakes his head. “Aight five minutes.”

“Have somewhere to be?” He downs the rest of his whiskey. “Wish I didn’t.” Your blush intensifies. Shifting in your chiat you rest a hand on his lap. “Too bad. I was just starting to like you.” He stands up, catching your hand as it falls. “Guess I’ll have to refresh your memory tomorrow.” Your hand tightens around his. “Wait tomorrow?”

“Gotta help you with those flowers right?” He actually meant it. “Fine.” He smiles and drops your hand, backing away from you. “I’m Rafe by the way.” You tell him your name, grab your drink and get up as well. “See you tomorrow beautiful.”

You smile all the way to the table, meeting Jo whose mouth was wide open. “Dude you were just flirting with Rafe Cameron.” You shrug your shoulders at you and sipping your drink “So what?” Her face flashes with different emotions. “So what? Dude he’s literally the richest person on this island. After his dad passed away he inherited the family business, he’s dumb rich.”

Jo won’t shut up about how hot the richest guy in Kildare was flirting with you. She gave you some of the run down on him from her “sources” on the island. Those sources being friends she made when she would visit. He apparently has a mean streak, causing fights with people. How he would sleep around with every girl and on top of that did drugs. It shouldn’t have shocked you but it was surprising to hear.

You thought over everything as you laid in bed. Rafe seemed funny and sweet when he talked to you in the bar. Those two versions of him do not seem to align together. Yet again you had only met him today and you don’t have the greatest track record with guys. It doesn’t matter anyway. You weren’t looking for anything anyway, all you needed to focus on was yourself and your daughter.

Taglist: @haruvalentine4321 @namelesslosers Let me know if you want to be added

#rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe obx #obx #rafe x you #rafe cameron fanfiction #outerbanks rafe #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #obx rafe cameron

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