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captain-huggy-bear · 21 days ago

Text

A Little Misunderstanding

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Lil' angsty at points, but ends sweet, lots of mutual pining and two idiots not realising the other is also in love with the other, meddling mothers (for the best this time)

Summary: Your parents assume that Quinn, the man you mention over the phone all the time, is in fact your boyfriend. He's very much not, but Quinn thinks its funny to pretend he is...until it gets a little too real and maybe some truths are told and feelings are aired.

Notes: Thank you to the anon who requested fake dating to lovers with Quinn, I had this idea which is a little different from the usual fake dating so I hope its okay and you still like it 😊

Tried to keep it ambiguous as to where the reader originated from so that us UK girlies can relate as well as anyone else not from Vancouver and/or Canada.

Reminder I typically use UK spellings because I'm English so...don't come at me if you wish I spelt it the US away. If I have to read US spellings all the time, you can handle the odd UK spelling

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

"When does your flight get in?" You balance your phone between your shoulder and ear, picking up a stray sock that had fallen out of your laundry basket as you attempt to tidy your apartment.

"7am your time, sweetheart, remember?" Your mother's voice rings clear down the line, familiar and warm. It's been a while since you saw either of your parents. You having moved all the way to Vancouver, more miles than you could count from your birthplace and hometown around two years ago. You were excited to have them finally able to come out and stay with you for a week, they'd never been to see you, and it had been a while since you'd been able to see your parents, not having time to fly to see them. While you were glad for the move to Vancouver, living in a completely different place away from your family wasn't always the easiest thing in the world. You so often felt like you were having to fend for yourself without much of a support network. Luckily you'd made some good friends in the time you'd been in Van.

"Quinn offered to come with me to pick you and dad up, we'll be there waiting for you so don't worry about getting an Uber." You dropped Quinn's name casually because that's what it was, he was just another part of your existence. Your friend, who admittedly you had a small crush on, but just your friend nonetheless. Just because you thought he was beautiful and wanted to kiss him didn't mean you were allowed to kiss him or that he'd even want to kiss you. He was a friend who happened to be a man and you both happened to be single. This had not changed for two years and wasn't likely to any time soon.

"Oh, Quinn'll be there?" Your mother's voice was suddenly more upbeat, excited. She'd been eager to meet Quinn for months now, you're not sure why she finally took an interest in one of your friends but you can't help but be glad. Quinn had become a massive part of your life, a support network you very much needed when you'd first come to a strange new place all by yourself. He was part of the fabric of your life now, and you knew he'd charm your parents without even thinking about it. It shouldn't matter to you that your parents like your friend, its not like Quinn was your boyfriend, but it did matter to you. You wanted them to like him as much as you did because you wanted him around for the foreseeable future.

"Yeah, I mentioned you were coming to visit the other day and his car is bigger than mine, so he offered to come along, he has to get up early most days anyway so he's not too bothered by it." It helped that Quinn had a couple of days off, but still you were thankful. He could have spent his rare enough free time doing something much more enjoyable than helping you pick your parents up from the airport.

"Your father and I look forward to meeting him, we've heard so much about him, darling!"

There's something about your mother's tone that makes you stop for a second suddenly feeling a little awkward about the whole thing. Maybe it's just how eager she is or maybe it's something else, but there's a little red flag waving in the back of your mind with some small print on that you just can't quite read yet.

"Right...um, look I'll see you tomorrow morning then? I gotta get everything ready for you guys."

"Of course, of course! We love you!"

"Love you too, mum."

"You're sure you don't mind?" You look over at Quinn from the passenger seat, the two of you look exhausted, big bags under your eyes and even bigger hoodies to hide in because a 5am wake up to get to the airport in time was just a little much for both of you. This early in the morning it's still dark and the streetlights do something to Quinn's face that makes him even more handsome than usual, even as he looks like he might fall back asleep at any minute. It doesn't help that his scruff has grown out or that his hair is in those perfect waves he always seems to get even when he's just taken his bucket off.

"I wouldn't have offered if I did, besides the amount of time we spend together isn't it about time I met your parents? You've met mine." He smiles over at you, cheeky, the sort of Quinn most people didn't see. It's silly that it makes your cheeks feel warm, he's just your friend. You shouldn't be flustered by him.

"Your parents are at as many of your games as possible, of course I've met them."

"So are you. Sue me for wanting to meet the parents of one of my best friends."

"I'm your best friend?" You lean your head back on the headrest, tilting slightly to grin at him all silly. Quinn can see it from the corner of his eye and as much as it's ridiculous, that little grin makes you even more beautiful than normal.

"One of." He rolls his eyes at you, partly because of your silliness and partly rolling his eyes at himself. You're his friend. He shouldn't feel this way about you, men can have female friends...he just can't seem to have you as a female friend without wanting to kiss you at any given opportunity. It's becoming difficult, even more so in the early morning when the low light level puts your face in stark contrast and your hoodie, one of his, makes you look so cozy and sweet.

"That's just your way of avoiding admitting how much you love me and need me in your life."

Quinn's cheeks flush bright red, so bright that even the low light can't hide it nor hide the way he bites back a smile at you, eyes fixed on the road and the last few miles to the airport.

"...Shut up."

The silence that fills the car is comfortable, the sort that comes about from spending so much time together. You have friends that aren't Quinn, of course you do, but Quinn had been your first friend in Vancouver. He'd shown you around and made time for you in his incredibly busy schedule. You were often the first person he saw when he came off a roadie and the last person to see him before he left for one. There were nights when you stayed round Quinn's after a game or vice versa. You spent so much time together that you simply coexisted, being around Quinn was as easy as breathing. You rarely argued or disagreed and when you did it was always resolved properly. You simply worked. There wasn't ever much to think about with Quinn. You could just...shut off.

"Thank you, though...seriously." You take a moment, thinking how to word your next few thoughts, your warning as the signs for the airport come into full view, "Just, my mum seems really eager to meet you so...just brace yourself."

"Eager?"

"You know when your parents are excited to meet a new partner?" You think back to the few times you'd introduced a boyfriend to your mum, the excitement that she exuded...it was starting to concern you that she was that excited to just meet your friend. Because that's all Quinn was. Your friend. Not your boyfriend. Your friend, you remind yourself, even as he looks so good smiling over at you with his beard. He'd let it grow out just enough that he looked rugged and mature.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, she's that sort of excited which is really weird...she normally doesn't' care that much about my friends. Just, sorry, if she's really weird about it?" It's awkward enough talking about, you and Quinn have always stayed firmly platonic, you didn't talk about the fact that people assumed you were dating or even the concept of it. Talking about it felt...it felt like you were opening the curtains up, letting him see in a little too far.

"You didn't tell her we were married or something, did you?"

"Quinn! Shut up!" He laughs so loud that you can't actually be that mad at him, not when he's grinning at you like that, not when he's been so stressed as of late about the performance of his team. Even if it's at your expense.

"What? Just checking! For all I know you could have told her we got married in Vegas during one of my games or something?"

"If I'm telling my mum I'm married to you, it'll be because I'm actually married to you, you idiot." You roll your eyes at him, arms crossing over your chest as you turn to look out the window.

"Oh, so you do want to marry me?" He's joking, but he's not...he's thought about it. There's not a day that Quinn hasn't thought about what it would be like to be yours and you be his, not since he met you...and then promptly managed to land himself so far into the friendzone that he was scared to crawl his way out lest he leave you behind in the process.

"...I hate you."

"No you don't." His voice is singsong in intonation and sweet and he's right because you love him and it hurts...god, it hurts how much you love someone you can't have. Someone you see every day, someone who is so deeply ingrained in your life that removing him would be like carving a hole into your own chest.

You just sit and glare at him, even as a heavy sort of sadness hits, as he pulls up into one of the parking bays for collecting passengers.

It's okay that he's just your friend, you remind yourself as you get out of the car. It's okay because he's the best friend you could ask for, he's here at 6.45 am in the morning to collect your parents from the airport, not because he was asked or because he had to, but because he wanted to. You can live with loving him in silence, so long as you always have him around.

"I think they're over this way, probably, near gate 1?" You're just getting your bearings, trying to figure out roughly where your parents will come out at after they find their things from baggage claim when you hear it.

"My baby!" The squeal of a middle aged woman who hasn't seen her daughter in far too long pierces the air. You barely have time to brace yourself for impact before your mother is wrapping you up in a gigantic hug and pressing as many kisses to your face as possible, you know without a doubt her signature mauve lipstick is smudged all across your skin.

Your father stands behind her, rolling his eyes in amusement but the smile he gives you is no less warm, "Hey there, princess."

"Hi, mum, hi, dad," You pull yourself free from your mother just long enough to get a long awaited hug from your father, big and warm and so familiar that you almost feel like crying. How long has it been since you last hugged your dad? Half a year? Nine months? Longer? You sometimes don't realise how much you miss something until you get it back.

When you turn back around your mother is already pulling Quinn into a hug that he accepts, if a tad awkwardly, his hands patting her on the back like he's not quite sure how hugs work.

She has his face in her hands before you can intervene, overly familiar and friendly as she grins up at him like he's made her day just by existing. "You must be Quinn, Y/N's boyfriend..."

"Oh, he's n-" You're pretty sure your eyes bug out of your head, startled by the suggestion because at no point in the last few years of living in Vancouver had you ever called Quinn your boyfriend. Ever.

You're cut off by Quinn who's grinning at you wickedly over the top of your mother's head like he's just been giving the greatest Christmas present he could ever ask for and in that moment you know...you know that he is going to make your life very difficult with this tiny piece of information.

"Yeah, hi, nice to meet, the boyfriend, that's me." God, he wishes it was true. There's nothing more he wants in that moment than to be able to say to your mom that you are 100% his girlfriend, but he can't...he can, however, enjoy the roleplaying while it lasts. He can't really stop himself, not when you look so aghast at your mother calling him your boyfriend, not when he can use this to tease you for at least the next 30 years. He grew up with 2 brothers, sue him for taking advantage of the situation.

"Quinn!"

"What? Am I not allowed to call myself your boyfriend anymore?" He sidles up to you, slipping out from your mother's grip to pull you into his side. His arm rests naturally over your shoulder, yours finding his waist, and it is natural...because you've done this a million times before. The kiss he presses to your hair is new though, different and as much as your mum clearly believes the ruse, you can see your father just looks amused. Something tells you he knows this is all an act, but he finds it enjoyable to watch. Typical. No support from him when you need it most. Dads.

"Oh, she's just grouchy in the mornings, has been ever since she was a baby!" Your mother looks at the two of you with such pride that you're certain her heart actually might break when she finds out Quinn isn't actually your boyfriend. You've never seen her look so happy with your choice in a man before and you're certain she won't be able to cope when you have to inevitably tell her that it was either a) a lie or b) that Quinn just wasn't the guy for you (another lie just to make your life more complicated).

"Mum!"

"Oh don't worry, I know just how grouchy my baby can be in the mornings." This time he presses a kiss to your cheek and when he does, you hiss lowly in his ear, 'I'm going to kill you.' and Quinn can't help but laugh at you, biting his lip at how much fun he's having riling you up.

"Here let me take your bags, Mrs Y/L/N," Quinn's bending down before your mother can even begin to protest, her carry on backpack being slung over his shoulder and pulling up the handle of her suitcase to wheel it behind him.

"Oh, you don't have to, Quinn!"

"I insist." He knows he's making it harder on you, can see the look you give him because he's just going to make your mother fall in love with him. But, even as he enjoys riling you up, he was also raised right and he's not letting your mother carry her own bags.

Your mother hangs back with you while your father and Quinn start walking ahead with the suitcases. She slips her arm through yours walking with you to keep up, as she does so she does a very bad attempt at whispering. The sort of whispering that means you know Quinn can hear every word and is probably enjoying it immensely.

"He's such a gentleman..."

"Yeah, a real gentleman." You mutter sarcastically, watching the way his shoulders rise and fall in a silent laugh that he's no doubt doing his best to swallow down.

"Don't be grumpy, he's just being sweet on you. You should be glad for such a loving boyfriend..." Your mother scolds you before raising her voice back to normal, Quinn and your father slowing down slightly to help keep the four of you together, "So, Quinn, my daughter tells me you're a hockey player?"

"Yeah, you talk about me, baby?" Quinn's grin is wide, and you can't help the warmth that fills your entire face because you can't actually deny it. You talk about Quinn all the time, he's your best friend and whenever your mother phones, you inevitably talk about him. Whether it was a game of his you went to or a coffee place you'd visited together or gala he'd invited you to. Maybe, you talked about him too much? Maybe, it was obvious in the way you talked about him that you loved him? Maybe that's why your mother had made such a large assumption about your relationship status. Maybe this was your fault, why wouldn't she assume you were dating?

"She talks about you all the time. Quinn this, Quinn that...did you know that Quinn did this today and broke this record?"

"Mum..." You groan out, looking to your dad for help but all he does is shrug his shoulders at you, amusement bright in his eyes. Even if he could do something you know he wouldn't because he's clearly enjoying your torture.

Quinn can't help it, the tables seem to reverse. You're embarrassed still, but now he is too, bright red in the face, ears flushed the colour of a fire engine and a hand rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. All because you talk about him to your parents...you talk about him when he's not around...he feels like a twelve year old, giddy because his crush smiled at him for the first time.

"I play for the NHL."

"Vancouver Canucks, wasn't it?" Your mother asks as the four of you step out into the cold Canadian air, her attention making Quinn squirm and you smile, enjoying the discomfort being swapped around for a moment.

"Yeah, I'm the captain of the team." He smiles at your mother awkwardly as he opens the boot of the car and starts to pile in the suitcases, organising them in just the right way that they fit without hassle.

Your father chimes in as he lifts his own suitcase into the back, Quinn helping him shove it back further, "That's impressive, I used to play field hockey myself, never got out of the amateur league but got a few bruises in my time. You had an injury recently right?"

You still remember phoning your mum to talk about it, at first worried and then over time growing more and more frustrated with how sullen Quinn was being. He'd grown restless from not being able to play hockey and you'd been his distraction, a distraction that had grown fed up with his moping no matter how much you loved him.

"I've had a few this year, most recently my hand." He raises his braced hand, the brace a point of annoyance to him at this point in time. He was itching to be done with it, but put up with it because it meant he could still play hockey at the moment.

"Oh, you shouldn't have been carrying my bag then, Quinn!" Your mother fusses over him, flapping about as if she might have a miracle cure for his hand injury.

"Honestly, it's fine! It looks worse than it is, I promise. I wouldn't get away with it otherwise, this one would kill me." He nods his head at you as he closes the boot, opening one of the backdoors for your mother to slide inside.

"Damn right I'd kill you, I cannot take more days of you moping that you can't play hockey and that you're bored despite my amazing company."

"You know I enjoyed spending time with you, sweetheart...but..."

"But, you can't live without hockey, yeah, I know..."

He follows you round to the passenger side door, opening it for you like a gentleman and letting you slide inside. You find yourself enjoying the attention even as you catch your mother's eye in the rear view mirror, a little smirk reaching her lips as she watches Quinn buckle you in. Something he does from time to time when he's feeling particularly sweet...because he was a good friend.

"So, Quinn, how did you meet our daughter? I'm not sure she ever mentioned it?"

The entire ride home is filled with your mother peppering Quinn with questions, encouraging him to talk more and more about your 'relationship'. Everything from when you first met to the first date you went on (which Quinn told her was the first time he took you ice skating, you were under the impression that that was a friendly family skate event and most certainly not a date).

The conversation lulls while you set your parents up in your spare bedroom, helping them settle themselves and showing them around your apartment. They hadn't ever seen it in person and they spent half the time cooing over your choices, the photos of family and friends on the wall, the ones of you and Quinn, as well as your mother checking your fridge and telling you to buy more vegetables.

It's as you're sitting down to a breakfast of pre-bought croissants and pain au chocolat that your mother restarts her question. This time even more invasive than the first.

"So Quinn, when did you know?"

"Mm? Know what?" Your best friend looks at your mother with furrowed brows, taking a sip of his orange juice and almost choking on it when she proceeds to clarify her question.

"When you loved my daughter."

There's a long beat of silence where your eyes stay fixated on your plate, watching your own hands intently as you spread Nutella inside your croissant, far too focused on that to be anything casual or calm. You're certain you're going to be sick because he doesn't love you but you love him and your poor mother is so oblivious and this...this is going too far, it feels like it's gone too far.

"Expected answer or honest answer?"

"Honest answer."

"The second week I knew her." Your head snaps up with a start only to find Quinn looking directly at you, green eyes crinkling softly at the corners. "She heard that I had been hurt on the ice the night before and she stormed round my apartment with a bunch of food, medicine and a blanket. Spent the whole day looking after me and making me watch 90s movies I hadn't watched growing up. No one outside my family had ever done that for me before...it made me realise that if I wasn't already in love, I would be pretty quick." You almost believe him, the way he looks at you, the way he speaks so softly. Almost.

You look down at your plate, tears welling in your eyes because you know he doesn't mean it. He's spinning a yarn for your mother and it hurts that he would go that far when you both know this is all some ruse he's decided to pull. You swallow hard and take a bite of your croissant, refusing to look at him for the rest of breakfast.

You won't meet his eyes until he goes to leave after breakfast, your parents hanging back so you can say goodbye to your 'boyfriend'.

"Mind if I come over after dinner? We could watch a movie with your parents?"

"Quinn..." You go to challenge him on his behaviour today, but the words won't come out.

"What?"

"Nothing...uh, sure, after dinner?"

"After dinner, baby."

You want to tell him off as he says it, as he presses a kiss to your cheek so your parents can see because you aren't his baby and he's hurting you. He's hurting you without realising it because you so desperately want to be his baby. But, you don't. You just watch him walk away down the corridor of your apartment building and out of sight before getting ready to show your parents around Vancouver for the day.

You try to put the whole thing out of your mind throughout the day, showing your parents the sights of Vancouver, including the arena...but it's hard when they keep bringing Quinn back up and asking about your feelings. They probe you for half the day and it's emotionally exhausting balancing the truth with the half-truth, even more so knowing that they're going to be just as disappointed as you are when they realise your relationship with Quinn is just a sham, a charade, a fake.

Eventually they seem to grow bored of talking about the topic, however, and dinner goes relatively smoothly, you taking them to a nice restaurant Quinn had shown you back in your first couple of months in Vancouver. Even that feels bittersweet though, filled with memories of the two of you dining together. You can't help but feel like the whole issue needs addressing as you get them back home and pop a film on ready for Quinn's arrival.

When he arrives he continues the act as if it isn't one, greeting you at the door with a kiss to the cheek and pulling you down onto the loveseat opposite your parents, curling one arm around your shoulders and urging you to lay against him, your cheek pressed into his chest. In some ways it's familiar, not an act, because you cuddle for movies all time, completely platonically of course, but both of you are touchy feely and it's always been part of your dynamic. In others though? The way he talks to you, the pet names, kisses to your hair, that is all new, all a way to show your parents he's the 'doting boyfriend', even though he's not your boyfriend at all.

Your parents lap it up, every now and then you catch them smiling at each other and then over to the two of you and you can't help but feel heavy with it. With this feeling of unrequited affection. You love Quinn, you've known that for a while now, but it was easy to be around him because you didn't need to address it. You could love him in silence and from afar...you had never considered how hard it would become when what you wanted most was being dangled in front of you like a carrot on a string.

Quinn has a similar dilemma going on in his own head. He's always known he loved you more than a friend, even when you barely knew each other...had he been braver he would have asked for your number for a date that first day, not so that he could show you around a new city as a 'friend'. But, he'd been a coward and since then he'd continued to be. He enjoyed every ounce of affection he got from you, every hug, every cuddle, ever time you held his arm at an event, all while feeling like that had to be enough...now he's had more? He's not sure it'll ever be enough, he's greedy for you. Greedy for your affection, your attention, greedy in the way he wants to keep kissing you, keeping calling you sweet names and greedy for the way you grow bashful. Greedy for more than just being your friend...he's given himself a taste of what life could be like and now he can't forget it.

It's halfway through the movie, your legs slung over Quinn's lap and his fingers carding through the ends of your hair when your parents stand with a groan from the other couch.

"Princess?" You lift your head to look at your father, who's stretching out his back after sitting for so long.

"Yeah, dad?"

"Your mother and I are getting a little tired...we're going to go to bed, if that's alright with you two?"

"Of course, don't let us keep you up." Quinn confirms your own thoughts as well, telling your parents it's not problem at all. It's all so...so domestic.

Your dad presses a kiss to the top of your head, as does your mother, before yourself and Quinn wish them goodnight. You wait until you see the door to the spare room start to close, not waiting for it to do so fully, before turning to Quinn. You pull out of his arms, the missing warmth of you an immediate loss to him, but it has him sitting up straight and taking you seriously.

Your face is sullen, sad, eyebrows pinched, mouth turned down into a frown and he's alarmed to see that your eyes are glassy like you might cry.

"Why on earth would you let my parents think we're dating? Why would you tell my mother you're in love with me?" You're certain you're going to cry, angry, frustrated and sad all in one. Lovesick because it hurts to hear him tell your mother he was in love with you when you know he's not.

"Why not?" He frowns at you, hands reaching out but you keep just out of reach as if touching him is the last thing you want. You've never shied away from Quinn's touch and he recoils, breathing a little heavier out of anxious worry that he's upset you, that he's fucked this up. Maybe you've been uncomfortable with his touch all day? Has he been making you uncomfortable all day? Is he one of those guys?

"Because we're not dating and you're not in love with me, Quinn. My mother is certain we're going to get married and I'll stop being an old spinster! You're getting her hopes up." The unspoken words lay heavy on your tongue, 'you're getting my hopes up', you want to say.

"Who said I didn't love you? Who said I didn't want to marry you?" The look he gives you isn't the cheeky one he's had all day, it's not joking or silly, it's dead serious. He scoots closer to you, but doesn't reach out for you this time. But, Quinn can't help but want to be close to you, to be drawn into your orbit, into your gravity.

"Quinn..."

"What?"

"You're being mean..." Your voice is filled with tears, wet, pathetic sounding and you choke back a sob as a tear falls down your cheek because he's being so mean...he can't dangle that in front of you, everything you've ever wanted, not when he doesn't actually mean it.

He realises in that moment that you don't believe him. You believe he's spent the entire morning and evening telling lies, saying that he loves you when he doesn't, that you're that important to him when you aren't. You believe he's being mean because you don't believe him, that the tears are because you think he's holding this thing, this idea out in front of you, only to snatch it away.

"Look, I said a lot today...but none of it was a lie." He can't help himself this time, hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb wiping away that pesky tear that shouldn't have been there in the first place. It's the way you lean into his touch that brings him a sense of confidence, of relief, you wouldn't do that if you didn't want him touching you.

"I know our first date wasn't a date, just a stupid family skate I was too scared to ask you out to as more than just a friend. I wish it had been a date and I wish I had been brave enough from the start to tell you I didn't just want to be your friend."

"Quinn..."

"And I was telling the truth...when your mother asked me when I fell in love with you." He tugs you closer, until your legs are back over his lap and your practically sitting on top of him, arms wrapping around your lower back and pulling you closer. The way he stares up at you is nothing short of reverent.

"Q..."

"The second week we knew each other you came to look after me when no one else did...and I knew...I knew that I was going to love you and that I was stupid for not asking you out in the first place...but I was...I was too scared to say anything. I didn't want to lose my new friend...I thought..." He hesitates, tongue coming out to nervously brush against his bottom lip, capturing your attention like a magpie with a shiny button.

"You thought?" You're whispering, quiet as if to speak any louder might scare him, might disrupt this little bubble you've found yourself in.

"I thought having a tiny bit of you...any bit, was better than having none of you at all." Quinn confesses, shifting you on his lap as your legs fall either side of his hips until you're so close your noses brush.

"Is it?"

"It was...for a bit..." It's self-deprecating, sardonic, like he finds himself ridiculous, foolish.

"And now?"

"And now I've had a taste of what it's like to love you, to be able to kiss you and hold you...call you mine...and now I'm greedy and it's not enough...Baby, it'll never be enough."

"You...you love me?" It's like even after all of this, everything he's said, every tender touch, you still don't quite believe him. It's hard to believe that everything you've ever wanted is sat in the palm of your hand just waiting for you to capture it, to take it. That your feelings, the ones you believed were unrequited for two years, were actually returned all along.

"I love you...and...um, if...if you'll have me, maybe I could be your real boyfriend this time?" His face is bright red, so warm to the touch when you're fingers reach out to trace his cheeks that you're surprised he doesn't combust.

"I'd like that...I...I love you too,"

"So...I'm your boyfriend?" He says it like he doesn't quite believe it, the beauty mark on his cheek moving as he grins up at you giddy like a little kid getting his first bag of sweets.

"You're my boyfriend." You press a kiss to that beauty mark without overthinking it...because you can now, because now it's not a lie when you tell your parents he's your boyfriend, because now you're allowed to kiss him and hold him and tell him how much you love him.

"Fuck...that sounds good."

He can't help but just stare up at you from where you're straddling his lap. The healthy glow to your skin, the soft smile directed down at him, the way you seem to curl into him like you're not close enough even now. God, you're beautiful and you're his...you're finally his and he's yours and...and he can't comprehend that the thing he wanted to happen for so long has finally happened. What had he been scared of all this time? He could have been with you for two years, instead he'd squandered it out of fear...

"Quinn?" Your voice is soft, melodic, so so sweet that almost closes his eyes at the sound.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Kiss me?" You whisper as if it's shameful to ask, as if you've asked for something more sordid than a simple kiss...your first kiss together at that.

"Anything for my girl."

He's gentle in the way he cups your neck and jaw with one large hand, thumb pressing just below your jaw bone as he pulls you in. There's nothing rushed about the way Quinn presses your lips together, the smooth glide of his bottom lip against your top. Even the way his tongue brushes against your lip until you open up for him is slow, steady, adoring. You can't help the way you sigh into him, fingers gliding through dark chocolate strands, eyes closing shut with the sense of home, sense of relief that you find in him.

The two of you lose yourselves in each other, slow kisses, wandering hands, nothing too extreme, but a new found intimacy that you're finally allowed to indulge in before you curl back up together to watch the remainder of the movie. Watch being a loose term for what you're really doing.

"Did you know?" Your father turns his eyes away from the scene outside the spare bedroom, the way you're curled up in Quinn's arms like you were always supposed to be there. Neither of you realising that the spare bedroom door had never fully closed, both your parents eavesdropping like Samwise Gamgee.

"That they weren't actually together, dear?" Your mother looks sly and devious as she looks over at her husband. The face of the woman he loves, but also fears in equal measure.

"Yes."

"Of course I knew...but I figured they could both use a shove in the right direction, I mean, look at them?" Your parents both turn to watch the two of you, the way you curl up together on the couch is the epitome of young love. There's no real watching of a movie happening, instead Quinn's fingers are rubbing circles into your shoulder, while you look up at him lovingly from where you're curled against his chest. Every now and then he dips his head down to press a kiss against your forehead, and each time you giggle, face pressing briefly into his neck. The giddy feeling of a new, fresh love, making film watching the least of your interests.

"They just needed a little push." Both your parents smile at each other even as your father playfully scolds his wife, "You're a meddlesome woman."

"And you love me for it."

"Yes, yes I do."

Perhaps it took a bit of meddling, a fake misunderstanding, but that would be their little secret...at least for now. Your mother was rather looking forward to seeing you squirm in the future as you reveal the truth, that you hadn't actually been dating Quinn as long as you said. Yes, she certainly was happy to help, but she also was still your mother and lying to your mother was certainly not the done thing. A little squirming was good for you sometimes, but first, she'd let you enjoy the fresh bloom of love...and she'd go easy on you.

#huggy bear writes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes/reader #quinn hughes #nhl imagine #nhl x reader

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jaemlover101 · 1 month ago

Text

love you (from afar) - na jaemin

jaemin x female reader (feat. jeno and the rest of the dreamies)

synopsis: When you’re finally pulled out of your house and pushed into your first party at the ripe age of sixteen, you meet Na Jaemin. In an instant, you're captivated and obsessed while he remains oblivious. Unrequited love is hard but it’s even worse when time proves it isn’t on anyone's side.

Or alternatively: To you, Na Jaemin is the center of your universe but to him, you are an awesome friend.

genre: fluff, angst, unrequited love, basically a love triangle, coming of age if you squint?, strangers to friends to ???

warnings/notes: underage drinking, swearing, no one rlly gets closure, time skips?, haechan is readers best friend lol, lots of mirroring!!, lmk if i missed any.. :3

wc: 9.6k+

a/n: hello hello!! my writing debut! (or return if you can even count the works i published in middle school...) i'm so excited to finally put out a finished piece for the first time in years and hopefully you enjoy it! i'm a person who enjoys writing, i'm not a writer so i'm sorry if this is not perfect- it's just something fun for me! feedback is appreciated and happy reading <3 p.s. i barely proofread this sry!

this piece was loosely inspired by this song! love u (from afar)

The first time you realize you’re in love with Na Jaemin is at your first high school party.

You couldn’t believe your friend had somehow managed to finally get you away from your desk and into a crowded and overly-heated house. You did not belong here.

“Aren’t you excited to finally live a little?” You look up at the tanned boy throwing his arm around you. Scoffing, you dig your elbow into his side a little, “I live everyday, you just think it’s boring.” Haechan laughs at the eye roll you send him, “Can’t argue there.”

You know Haechan is feeling proud of himself. In your many years of knowing the boy, he was always the one trying his hardest to pull you out of your room. Even though you almost always refused his pleading, you couldn’t help but secretly like that Haechan had never given up on you.

Hearing your name, you whip around to lock eyes with your other friend running up to you, “I can’t believe you got her to come!”

Rolling your eyes must be a new habit of yours. “I had to bribe her,” Haechan shakes his head, disappointed with the truth, “but she’s here! Finally the trio can thrive!”

Haechan wraps his other arm around the boy as the three of you continue your journey into the kitchen, “What should her first drink be junnie?” the other thinks for a second, “maybe something easy, she’d probably like a smirnoff ice” You look at the boy, a little worry in your eyes, “don’t worry, it’s an easy drink, low percentage.”

As the night progressed, you became more comfortable as you stuck with your friends, feeling more confident with each drink you consumed.

Haechan watched as you and Renjun went shot for shot, wide-eyed at the sight. He blinked twice just to make sure he was seeing things correctly.

Wincing after your third shot, you tap out with Renjun’s solo celebration in tow. Haechan can’t help but pinch at your rose-colored cheeks, “Who knew the introvert had a wild side!” You jab at his side with a laugh contradicting your movements.

Maybe Haechan and Renjun were right. You needed to let loose more often.

“I need to use the bathroom.” you blurt out, looking between Haechan and Renjun. “It’s down the hall, first door on the left.” You follow Renjun’s finger as best as possible.

You nod, reminding them not to leave this spot without you. After all, you were in a stranger's house, inebriated, and new to this scene.

Your body glides along the wall as you make your way towards the door. It’s a little quieter down the hallway, making you aware of how loud your inner monologue is.

Reaching for the doorknob, your hand misses it as it swings open, your body colliding with something hard.

You figure you must’ve run into the door until a pair of hands rest on your hips.

Shooting your head up, you lock eyes with the prettiest boy you think you’ve ever seen. He smiles down at your shocked face. “Well hello to you too.” Your cheeks manage to flush red even more.

What. The. Fuck!

You push out of his hold, looking everywhere but at him. “Sorry I have to pee!” Is all you manage to croak out as you push past him, closing the door.

With your back against the door, you feel your heart beating out of your chest. Who was he? God he was so handsome! No, get it together. Haechan this is all your fault! Thoughts race around your head, too quick for you to catch any of them.

Returning back to your friends after finally relieving yourself and regaining composure, you're being pulled to the backyard by Haechan, Renjun following right beside you. “I want you to meet my friends!” You let your body relax, completely forgetting about whatever transpired moments ago.

Feeling the cool breeze hit your body, you realize the backyard is significantly less packed and you can’t help but shiver a bit.

“Haechan!” You hear a chorus of boys chime out as you approach a fire pit. Going from left to right, you recognize some faces while others are brand new or barely holding on in your foggy memory.

You recognize Jisung right away. You had gym with him freshman year and you cried when his “stellar football throw” went the wrong direction and nailed you right in the head. You had become acquaintances after the incident. He had offered to buy you ice cream at the shop near school and you figured he wasn’t a bad person, he just had bad aim.

Chenle sat right next to him. You didn’t know him well but you knew Jisung and him were tied at the hip. When the football incident happened, instead of helping either of you, Chenle opted for falling onto the ground, tears threatening to come out as he gasped for air from his incessant laughter.

Next to him was another boy, sporting wire-rimmed glasses and mindlessly strumming a guitar in his lap. He shot you a soft smile before focusing back on the conversation Haechan had started. You figured his name was Mark from the way Haechan whined for the boy's attention.

Beside him was another boy who looked oddly familiar. Watching the way his eyes formed crescents as he laughed felt like deja vu until you realized it was Jeno. In your first semester of your sophomore year, you and Jeno had shared a theatre class to fulfill an arts elective. You interacted once or twice during the semester but only as characters, never as yourself and Jeno.

Lastly, beside Jeno was a recognizable face but a stranger all in one. The boy from the bathroom. You watched as the light from the flames danced across his features, making him look ethereal. Was he even real?

You admittedly stare longer than you should and you’re snapped out of it when Renjun grabs you by your arms, pushing you forward to sit down right next to the boy.

Your frame instinctively shrinks as he turns, sending you a smile, “Hello again.” You meet his eyes, the fire floating around in his dark brown orbs. You could stare at him all day if he’d let you. “Hi,” Really? That’s all you can muster up? “Sorry for bumping into you earlier, It’s my first time drinking so I’m kind of all over the place up here.” You make a scrambling gesture around your head.

It’s embarrassing to admit that you’re new to all this but at the moment you don’t have a great filter.

He laughs and you swear you feel butterflies in your stomach. Did you always feel like this when you heard laughter? You could’ve sworn you wanted to kill Haechan most times you heard him laughing.

“It’s alright, I’m Jaemin by the way.”

Jaemin?

Jaemin.

Even his name was nice. Was he God’s favorite?

The night continues with the eight of you huddled around the fire getting to know each other. You can’t help but think you really like these guys, especially the one next to you.

You naturally bounce off one another throughout the night as if you’d always been friends. When someone says something funny, you’re both locking eyes before busting out into laughter.

It’s weird you think, but you’re not opposed to how comfortable the boy makes you. Your heart’s beating faster than you can keep up with and the way he makes you feel so comfortable has you leaning in, feeling weak in the knees.

Is this what liking someone feels like? Is this love?

That night, when you sneak back into your room, Haechan and Renjun passing out immediately on your floor, you make it a priority to find your journal and scribble down how you feel.

First high school party

I think I fell in love with a stranger today.

· · ─────── · ·

The second time you realize your feelings for Na Jaemin is at the end of your senior year of high school.

Hearing your name from behind, you whip around in the crowd of people to see your friends standing a little bit behind you with stupid smiles plastered on all their faces.

You run straight to them, crashing into a huge group hug, “Guys!” Your voice is laced with celebration, sadness, and fear all at once, “We did it! We graduated!”

Thanks to Haechan’s persistence to get you out of the house your sophomore year of high school, you now have a rather large group of friends but you’re not complaining.

After your first ever party, your trio had turned into an octet. It was chaotic but it worked and you loved it.

After a few pictures, insisted by all of your mothers, you hug your friends one by one as if you’re not all about to drive back to Chenle’s house for a pool party.

You end your hugs with the best hugger of them all, Na Jaemin. And no, that is not just because you like him. He really gives great hugs.

His taller frame engulfs yours and his touch feels warm.

You feel him lean down before you feel his breath on your ear, “I’m so proud of us,” you remove your head from his chest, opting to look up at him instead.

You can’t help but think Jaemin has always been so handsome.

“Me too.” Is all you can muster up, getting lost in his eyes. He stares down at you softly, the interaction feels vulnerable, intimate even.

“Guys, let's go! Renjun just got the keys to his new minivan!” Chenle shouts, clenching his stomach as he tries to hold back his laughter.

One man’s graduation gift is another man’s comedic relief.

Arriving at Chenle’s house, you’re always blown away at the size and at the fact that the party you all met at was here.

Even though you’ve been friends for two years now, you still don’t think you’ve seen his house in its entirety.

You hear Haechan call your name from downstairs and you’re quick to check yourself in the mirror one more time before heading down.

You don’t personally love the color pink but Jaemin does so you opt for one of the only pink two pieces you own.

“Don’t you hate the color pink?” Haechan asks before opening the door to the backyard, “It grew on me.”

“Let’s play chicken!” Chenle shouts as soon as you walk out. He knows you’re the only one ever willing to play against him and Jisung.

Slowly getting into the pool to acclimate yourself, you wade over to Jaemin and Jeno.

“Pretty swimsuit, I love the pink,” He noticed! You smile as you finally settle in front of the two, “Thank you! I saw it a few weeks ago and thought the color was pretty,” Jaemin hums as he continues to smile at you.

You feel small under his gaze, you decide to avert your gaze to Jeno, who’s already looking at you.

“Are you excited for Summer?” Jeno asks as he pushes off the pool wall, moving to stand closer due to Haechan and Chenle’s screaming contest impairing his hearing.

“Very excited to spend everyday with you guys,” you say with a sigh and an eye roll. He knows you’re being sarcastic and the boy can’t help the smile forming on his lips.

He matches your tone, “Yeah cause you hate us soooo much,” he leans towards you in a teasing manner and you can only laugh before admitting defeat, “Sadly no, I love you guys too much.” you place your hands over your heart and give your best sob face before you’re suddenly pulled away.

You follow the hand wrapped around your arm and you see Jaemin’s figure pulling you to the middle of the pool.

“Ready to win?”

“Obviously.”

Jaemin dips under the water, allowing you to easily mount his shoulders.

You’ve done this action a thousand times but his hands on your thighs never fail to make your heart beat like crazy.

“You’re going down.” Jisung mutters as he comes up from the water with Chenle on his shoulders, “Keep that smack talk up and I’ll make Renjun apply your sunscreen instead.”

At this Jisung is quick to shut his mouth with Renjun painfully screaming ‘noooo!’ in the background.

Mark goes in between your pairs as the makeshift referee. Everyone knows he won’t rig it because frankly, he doesn’t care who wins, he just thinks it’s funny to see his friends flail around.

“Go!”

Pushing at Chenle’s incoming figure, you feel Jaemin’s grip on your thighs tighten to steady you both. It’s a never-ending pushing match between you and Chenle, both always being full of energy when it comes to a game of chicken.

“You got this! Push him harder!” You hear Jaemin’s support over the screaming coming from Chenle and the rest of the boys.

You’re quick to push hard, but your hand slips past Chenle’s shoulder, giving him an open opportunity to push you over.

Before he gets the chance, Jisung screams, suddenly becoming unsteady. You take that opportunity, pushing Chenle with enough force to make him and Jisung topple over.

You cheer as Jaemin bobs up and down in the water to push you up like a champion.

“That wasn’t fair! Jeno and Haechan scared me!” Jisung spoke up as he emerged from the water. Your eyes move to the two boy’s floating innocently on the side, catching Haechan’s mischievous eyes and Jeno’s playful smile, “We did no such thing!”

You don’t miss the playful wink Jeno sends you .

By the time the sun starts to set, Chenle sets up the firepit next to the pool with his dad’s help before you all begin making s’mores.

When you packed for today’s events, it never dawned on you to bring an extra pair of clothes to wear but thankfully Jaemin offered his hoodie and you were quick to take his offer.

With the fire, Jaemin’s hoodie, his body heat radiating right next to you, and the blanket he made sure to drape over both of you– you were more than warm.

“Want me to make you a s’more?” You nod at his offer as he pushes a marshmallow onto his stick.

Jaemin’s always been extra sweet to you and sometimes you wonder if he might like you back but other times you chalk it up to you being the only girl in your friend group.

But the way his touch lingers, the way he looks at you with care, how his voice becomes softer around you– you swear there has to be something.

“Ahhhh” the boy holds a completed s’more up to your mouth, as he looks at you expectantly with a sweet smile.

Just like the night you met, the fire dances in his dark brown orbs and you swear you would willingly get lost in his eyes.

Taking the s’more you smile at the boy as he nudges you playfully.

That night you make sure to find your journal as soon as you close the door to your bedroom.

Graduation day

Jaemin is such a gentleman, it makes me so giddy. How could someone not fall for him?

· · ─────── · ·

When you’re finally used to your feelings for Na Jaemin, you’re in your first year of college.

By some higher being, you and your friend group had ended up at the same school and although you pretend like they’re a pain in the ass, you’re thankful you didn’t have to say goodbye to any of them.

“Are you coming over tonight?” You look up from your phone to see Jaemin mindlessly picking at the fruit cup in front of him.

It was Friday meaning it was Jaemin and Jeno’s turn to host movie night. You smile as you watch your friend pick the strawberries out and place them on a napkin in front of you. At this point in the semester, this was routine for you two. Meet after class, share a snack, and catch up.

“Do I even have a choice?” you sigh, taking a strawberry. The boy can only laugh at your weak attempt to sound upset about tonight.

You feel the way his feet mindlessly play with yours under the picnic table. Jaemin has always been like this. Touchy. Playful. Clueless.

As years passed and you grew closer to Jaemin, that weird feeling lingered through it all. His soft touches, his compliments, his banter, his everything– it all burned you but you wanted nothing more than to be engulfed by his flame.

But you were friends. Nothing more, nothing less. So you tried to push those feelings to the side, opting to be Jaemin’s friend up close and his admirer from a distance.

“I hope we don’t have to watch spiderman for the fourth time in a row,” You joke, pushing your overbearing thoughts to the back for another time. “Maybe we should watch horror or something. I don’t think we’ve done that in a while.” He hums in thought before chiming in, “Haechan would probably die then come back and haunt us.”

You laugh at the thought of your friend in ghost form, “I don’t know if I could handle Haechan for an eternity.” Admittedly, you spent a lot of nights praying to the air that your friendship with Haechan would surpass time and break the barriers of infinity, but you would never admit that to him. It would boost his ego too much.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you. He continued to play footsie under the table as you took the strawberries he despised. Every so often, you stole glances across the table. He hadn’t changed much over the years, instead he had grown into his features. His dedication to the gym paid off though it wasn’t noticeable under the black hoodie he wore but you knew. You knew all too well from the countless beach trips and pool days.

You needed to stop staring before someone caught you. But it’s almost impossible to not stare when your friend is Na Jaemin. How was Jaemin everything you wanted but everything you couldn’t have?

“So did you get the right popcorn?” You glance at Haechan as you make your way down the street to Jaemin and Jeno’s shared apartment. He flashes a wide smile as he holds up the family size popcorn box.

You were running fifteen minutes late because of Haechan’s dilemma on what popcorn seemed the best. You were always in charge of getting the popcorn for movie nights but this time you sent Haechan so you could finish and submit an assignment. “Thank god.”

Walking up the lawn, you drown out whatever Haechan is complaining about beside you as your eyes focus on the door.

As you get closer, something inside you keeps telling you to retreat, to not go in.

Leave! Leave! Don’t go inside! Turn around!

You question your internal monologue but proceed to knock on the door. What could that be about?

Greeted by Jeno, you give him a quick hug before walking in to see the rest of your friends already surrounding the tv. Nothing out of the ordinary.

You quickly say hi to your friends, catching Jaemin’s sweet smile, before moving towards the kitchen to make the popcorn. Ever since the first movie night and Chenle’s terrible attempt at making popcorn and Jisung’s terrible attempt to salvage it, you were put in charge of popcorn when you popped it to perfection after the scarring (and smelly) event.

Unwrapping four bags for the first round, you flattened each one making sure the kernels spread throughout the bags.

“No wonder the popcorn always tastes good when you make it,” You look up to see Jeno leaning against the counter, hands stuffed into his pockets. “You put so much care into your craft.” He jokes and you can’t help but laugh along with him.

You don’t know when you and Jeno had grown close throughout the years but it was nice to be considered a friend to the boy who was, for the most part, very closed off. You would say out of everyone besides Haechan and Renjun, Jeno had grown closest to you, Jaemin trailing close behind. It was an unexpected duo but Haechan noted that it made sense due to your similar lifestyles.

“Gotta make sure my boys are well fed.” He rolls his eyes with a laugh while shaking his head, “Yeah cause we’re always starving without you.” You know his sarcasm is laced with a certain sweetness.

“Help me with the drinks?” He moves towards you as you continue prepping the bags of popcorn before dipping down to be eye level with you. He pinches your cheek while sighing, “I guess” He draws out his words with an annoyed look only making you stick out your tongue at his playfulness.

You miss the way Jaemin watches the interaction between the two of you, only noticing his presence when he walks up to you punching in the time on the microwave. You feel his stare on you as you focus on pressing the right numbers. You feel small under his gaze.

“Sit next to me?” Your cheeks heat up at the simple question and you can only look down as you squeak out, “Sure.” Jaemin smiles triumphantly. He wants you to sit next to him because you're his friend but he also knows you’re not a popcorn hog like the rest. He misses the very obvious signs of your bashfulness.

You wonder how someone can be so clueless but you’re thankful nonetheless.

Plopping down beside Jaemin at the end of the couch, you situate the bowl of popcorn on your lap. Haechan and Jeno sit next to you, Mark occupies the single chair near Jaemin’s end with Renjun sitting on the floor in front of him, while Jisung and Chenle lay sprawled across the floor.

“Per the princesses request, we will be watching horror tonight!” Jaemin alerts your group as he starts making his way to the horror section of netflix. You feel Haechan’s eyes staring daggers into your side and you can only send him a hesitant smile while mouthing a quick ‘sorry’.

“Don’t complain when I sleep in your bed tonight.” You regretted your choice immediately.

The night had gone on like usual. Jisung jumping when Chenle made sudden noises to scare him, Renjun nagging at them saying they’re drawing him out of his immersive experience, Mark laughing at his friends and mindlessly scrolling on his phone every so often, Haechan cowering in fear and holding onto Jeno for dear life as said boy tries his best to push him away.

This left you and Jaemin to exist in your own little world of uncertainties– mainly on your behalf. His arm around you, your head on his shoulder. You can feel his thumb drawing circles into your side when you jump at a scary scene.

It all feels too intimate to mean nothing or maybe you’re just a chronic overthinker.

By the end of the movie marathon, your group is more than tired. Your body feels so comfortable against Jaemin but you know you need to head home.

“C’mon Haechan, get up.” You nudge at the boy as you stand from your seat. Somewhere throughout the night, Haechan had fallen asleep. He swatted your hand away as he curled more into Jeno.

“Okay, I guess you’re walking home with all the evil spirits tonight.” At this, Haechan shot up with wide eyes. “No! Just give me a second!”

Saying goodbye to your friends as they leave in pairs, Jeno is the last to hug you before retreating to his room for the night. Haechan was taking forever.

You decided to sit on the front porch, wanting to get some fresh air. You feel a presence sit down and you don’t have to look to know it’s Jaemin. “Hi,” His voice is groggy and laced with tiredness. “Hi Jaemin.”

You look up from your shoes to meet his eyes. It’s his turn to stare for a beat too long. Why is he looking at you like that? Like he feels something?

The silence engulfing you both isn’t normal. It’s heavy and questioning.

“Can I do something and it won’t change anything between us?” His question catches you off guard, your palms suddenly starting to sweat. You reluctantly nod, still looking at him intently.

Before you know it, the space between you is gone. His lips press to yours as his hand comes up to rest on your cheek. It’s over before you can even close your eyes or kiss back.

He leans back and you watch his eyes flutter open before he completely pulls away. “I didn’t feel anything. Did you?”

What? Was this some sick joke?

In all your years of knowing Jaemin, he rendered you speechless a lot but never like this.

He just stole your first kiss.

“Why did you do that?” Is all you can blurt out before standing up to look down at the boy. An ounce of you hopes that maybe you misheard him, maybe he did feel something.

Matching your actions, Jaemin stands up, stuffing his hands into his pockets. How could he be so calm right now? It almost made you angry.

“Mark kept saying something about me and you being so touchy and saying things like ‘don’t think I miss the way you both look at each other’ so I wanted to see if he was right.”

“And?”

“He was wrong.”

You swear you could feel the cracks forming on your heart as a horrible feeling settled in your stomach. You should’ve listened to your instinct. You should’ve never come over tonight.

Unrequited love is one thing but it’s another for Jaemin to confirm it so carelessly, as if he thinks there was nothing there for either of you.

Before you can say anything, Haechan opens the door, interrupting the horrific silence.

You thank the universe that Haechan is more focused on his surroundings out of fear of a ghost attacking him rather than on you. How can you explain the tears threatening to spill at any second?

When you make it home, Haechan holds true to his promise of sleeping in your bed that night. You sit at your desk feeling the need to write or else you’ll explode.

You find the page with your two confessions written down. While the other pages are jumbled with words, this page remains untouched.

You know his answer, he made it more than clear there was nothing. It’s better to know for certain rather than chasing mindlessly anyways, right? You feel a tear run down and land on the page.

From now on, you would love Na Jaemin from afar.

Movie night

He kissed me and said he felt nothing. It feels selfish, what about how I feel? I’m in love with you Na Jaemin.

· · ─────── · ·

When you start getting good at loving Na Jaemin from afar, he starts trying to close the distance.

To celebrate the end of your first year of college, your friends decided it would be a great idea to go to the beach.

You were excited but you knew this trip would test your abilities of keeping your distance from Jaemin.

Ever since the kiss, you limited the number of times you were alone, the amount of times you touched, the amount of times you joked and talked. You didn’t want Jaemin completely out of your life, truthfully, that was impossible. But you wanted to give space for your feelings.

As much as it hurt to admit, you wanted to love him from afar but you secretly hoped your feelings would fizzle out over time.

Somehow throughout the course of your first year, Haechan caught on to your actions. It shouldn’t have surprised you, he knew you better than anybody. You just thought you were being more subtle than you actually were.

You finally told him after weeks of pestering but you made him promise not to tell anyone or else he wouldn’t get to be the flower boy at your wedding. That’s how Haechan knew it was serious. He definitely was not telling anybody.

So although he knew there was no hatred towards Jaemin and he had never done anything horribly wrong, he helped you create distance, always conveniently needing you whenever Jaemin got you two alone or inserting himself and saying he never got to sit near you during movie nights. A complete lie that Jaemin fell for over and over.

Snapping you out of your thoughts, Jeno calls your name. “You okay?” His brows are furrowed, voice laced with concern as he takes your bag to situate it in the trunk. “O-Oh yeah, just lost in thought. Thank you.”

You watch as the boys pack up the two cars in Mark and Renjun’s driveway. Unfortunately, without Renjun’s minivan (which had died during the first week of college), it was hard to haul eight people on a roadtrip altogether so thankfully Mark and Jaemin had offered to drive this time around.

“Wanna watch a movie with me on the way there?” Jeno closes the trunk to Jaemin’s car, wiping his hands off onto his shorts. You smile with a nod, “Let’s do it.”

As Haechan and Jaemin come out from the apartment with snacks, Renjun following to lock the doors, Jaemin throws the snacks into the backseat before coming over to you with an easy smile.

“Do you wanna sit up front? You can pick the music.” The offer stings but not as bad as it could’ve a few months ago.

Your plan was slowly but surely working. By loving him from afar, you were falling out of love with Na Jaemin.

“I’m actually gonna watch a movie with Jeno,” His smile falters for a second before biting his cheek, “Don’t worry though Jaem, Haechan has a good road trip playlist!”

The tips of his ears feel hot at the use of the nickname you had given him at the beginning of your friendship but why was he annoyed that you were choosing Jeno over him?

As your ride to the beach began, you decided it would be easier to sit in the middle seat to be closer to Jeno in order to see his small screen. He lended you an airpod and as he held his phone on his lap, you had a pack of gummy bears in your lap for the two of you.

“What should we watch?” He asked as he looked into the bag for a green gummy bear. “Let’s watch something funny,” Your hand dives into the bag at the same time as his and you look at each other before laughing.

Jaemin can’t help but look at the two of you through his rearview mirror wondering what could be so funny? And why are you sitting so close to each other? And why, oh my god, why was it bothering him?

“Haechan, what funny movie should me and Jeno watch?” You lean forward, tapping the boy in the passenger seat. He thinks for a moment, tapping his finger on his chin, “Over the hedge!”

“Genius!”

As the car ride continues, Jaemin can’t tell if he’s overstimulated, irritated, or going crazy. With Haechan’s 2000’s music blaring, the boy singing along and your laughter reaching to the front of the car every so often with whispers between you and Jeno following, he doesn’t realize how hard he’s gripping the wheel until he sees his knuckles turning white.

What is this feeling? He thinks for a moment, ‘am I jealous?’ and he can’t help but scoff at his own idea. Don’t be crazy Jaemin.

Nearing the end of the drive, Jaemin finds himself growing more and more agitated. The last time he looked into the rearview mirror, your head was resting on Jeno’s shoulder as his rested atop yours. You fell asleep like that?

Although Jaemin was never one to be petty for no reason, he found himself taking a turn sharper than he should’ve. He wouldn’t admit it but he was glad to see your head rise from his friend's shoulder.

“We’re here sleepyheads!” Haechan shouted as the car came to a stop.

As Jeno opened the door for you both to get out, you're overwhelmed by the smell of the ocean and the warmth engulfing your body.

You look up at the house before going to help the boys bring in the luggage. This is going to be a long weekend.

Stepping into the entryway, your eyes scan over the layout. An open kitchen to your right with an island in the middle with four chairs and a breakfast nook on the side. To the left was an open living room, the couch being significantly larger than any couch you’ve used for movie night, a flat screen hanging off the walls. Directly in front of you is a long hallway with doors on either side, four to be exact. Two to a room wouldn’t be bad.

You all explore the house for a moment, leaving your bags at the front door.

Upon further investigation, you find a pool in the backyard with a grill, firepit, and large table that would easily accommodate your group. There’s easy access to the beach and a basketball goal near the garage. You decide to walk down the hallway last and notice that all bedrooms have two beds except the last one, the master bedroom.

Joining the others on the couch, you realize they’re already fighting over who will get the king size bed.

Renjun decides it’s best if they draw names to choose where everyone sleeps and Haechan is quick to find a pen and paper. The boy states it’s best for him to pull so no one can see since he’s sitting at the end.

The others scoff saying he just wants to rig the game.

Haechan starts with the double beds, saving the king for last.

The first room on the left belongs to Jisung and Mark, they high five at the revelation of sharing a room.

Next is the first room on the right. Chenle and Renjun get chosen next and even though they both wanted the king, they aren’t upset with being roommates for the weekend.

That leaves two more rooms and four more people. You have a chance of rooming with Jaemin. If it’s the double beds, you can live. If it’s the king, you will die.

Haechan pulls out the first name for the last set of double beds, “Jeno!” he cheers with the boy only nodding.

Pulling out the next name, Haechan leans back like every other time so no one can see.

Your leg bounces in anticipation and Jaemin gnaws at his lip, both nervous for different reasons.

You watch as Haechan hesitates for a split second, his eyes flickering up to you.

Looking down at the ground, you know you’re done for.

Haechan shouts out your name, your head shooting up with wide eyes. He sends you a secretive wink before calling his and Jaemin’s name out for the king size bed.

So yes, Haechan did rig the game but technically not in his favor.

Moving to your rooms to unpack, you feel light knowing you won’t have to share a room with the one person you’re trying to, borderline, avoid.

Jaemin passes your shared room with Jeno and hears your muffled laughter. He doesn’t understand why Haechan purposefully made you room with Jeno. Did you like Jeno? Did you not like him?

Walking into his own shared room with Haechan, he lazily throws his bag onto the bed as he starts to unpack alongside the other.

Silence engulfs the two as if Haechan knows Jaemin sees right through him while Jaemin is searching for the right way to word his question.

“Why did you call her name out when you pulled yours?” Haechan glances up at the boy folding his clothes, his jaw tense.

Quick on his feet, Haechan feeds into what his friends said earlier, “I wanted the king, duh”

“I know you’re lying… what was that wink about? Does she like Jeno?”

Haechan can only scoff as he closes the drawer, now full of his own clothes, “If that was the reason, I would’ve made sure to put them in here. Trust me, I would’ve made sure she got action.” There he goes, always trying to make a situation light. The thought of you and Jeno together makes Jaemin feel weird. He doesn’t understand why but he doesn’t like it.

“Either way, it’s none of our business.” Jaemin scoffs this time, lazily throwing his empty duffel bag into the corner. “I think it’s my business to know why my friend doesn’t want to room with me?” His statement comes off as more of a question and he watches as Haechan rounds the bed to exit the room, “Not everything is about you Jaemin.”

Jaemin doesn’t understand when the switch happened.

You used to be tied to him. You were a duo. You completed each other. You had such a good friendship.

So what happened? Why is Jaemin walking to the pool alone instead of you by his side? Why are you on Jeno’s shoulders playing chicken against Jisung and Chenle? Wait what?

Why are you on Jeno’s shoulders? That’s supposed to be him and you! That’s his thing!

Stepping into the backyard, he watches as you and Chenle push back and forth at one another. He can’t help but wonder if you always look this pretty? His eyes flicker down and his stomach twists seeing Jeno’s hands gripping your thighs to keep you stable. Why did that leave such a bitter taste in his mouth?

He sat next to Mark on one of the pool chairs, watching chaos ensue as Haechan started spraying at both you and Chenle, stating it would make the game more fun.

Hearing the way you laugh out Jeno’s name to warn him to keep you stable has Jaemin rolling his eyes.

Maybe he’s just in a bad mood today.

For the rest of the day, Jaemin makes an effort to be near you but he picks up on how you turn down his advances. Cuddle on the couch? ‘Sorry I’m going to help Mark… gotta make sure he doesn’t burn the kitchen down’. Wanna watch me grill? ‘I was actually gonna play a game of horse with Chenle while we wait’. Sit next to me at dinner? ‘Sure!’ but then Haechan conveniently sat next to him, leaving you to sit between Renjun and Jisung.

That last one really wasn’t intentional, Jaemin just thinks everyone is out to get him now.

Something that has really been bothering him is the fact that you haven’t been blushing at his compliments. He always figured you were blushing because you were shy with praise but he was just oblivious of how you only blushed when he said something nice, meanwhile you would simply say ‘thank you’ with a smile to anyone else.

The question still plagued his mind, When did everything change?

He had never realized it but he really liked the way your eyes shined when you looked at him. How you followed him around and how you were ready to jump at anything he suggested. He liked you right next to him.

Now your eyes are getting duller, you’re not sticking to him at all and you’re turning down every suggestion he sends your way, you haven’t been near him this whole trip. And now that he thinks about it, you haven’t been by his side for a few months.

And when he looks up from his plate he wonders if you were always this beautiful. Did his heart always beat like this?

His eyes flicker to your lips and he can't help but think back to the night he kissed you. Was he nervous that night for fear of losing you as a friend or did his fast heart rate mean something else?

Shaking his head, he focuses his attention on Mark who’s saying something about going to the beach tomorrow.

Haechan says a joke that he doesn’t quite catch but his eyes move to yours, wondering if you’ll look at him the way you always do after someone says something funny.

His stomach drops and he thinks he’s gonna be sick. Your eyes shoot straight to Jeno’s as you laugh together.

Jaemin is in trouble.

· · ─────── · ·

The next morning is when you stop loving Na Jaemin from afar.

Waking up, you’re blinded by the lights peeking through the curtains.

Groaning as you stretch the sleep from your body, you turn your head towards Jeno’s bed to see him already facing you with a lazy smile. “Hi.” His voice is groggy, laced with tiredness.

“Hi Jeno.” you flash your own lazy smile before continuing to stretch under the sheets.

The whole interaction feels like deja vu to you but you shrug it off.

Today was a new day. Today you felt lighter. But most importantly, today was beach day.

Taking turns with Jeno in the bathroom, you both get ready for the day before heading out to the kitchen to prepare for the long day.

Realizing you were the first two awake, you take it upon yourselves to cook breakfast for everyone.

You and Jeno work well together. Where one lacks skill, the other makes up for it. You’re good with eggs and dicing fruit, he’s good with meats and getting the perfect toast on bread.

While focusing on cutting the rest of the fruit, Jeno comes up behind you with a slice of bacon between his fingers, “ahhh” he mocks to alert you to open up. Skillfully taking the bacon from his hands with your lips, you hum at the taste. You shoot him an ‘Okay!’ sign with your fingers as you continue to chew and he flashes his signature crescent smile.

You mirror his previous actions, bringing a piece of pineapple to the boy’s mouth, “ahhh” you copy and he laughs before biting the fruit in between your fingers. He closes his eyes at the sweet and tangy taste. “Delicious!”

The rest of the boys file into the kitchen, creating their own plates as they fuel up for the day. Jeno and you continued to snack on breakfast as you started to tackle the sandwiches for the beach.

It was weird how you and Jeno worked so well together. You knew you were alike but the fact that you could easily pick up where each other left off, finishing the task the way the other intended– it was fascinating to you.

“Jeno can you pass me–” His hand appeared in front of you with the head of lettuce suspended in the air. You look at him to see he’s still focused on spreading condiments on the bread. “Thank you.” You glance at him one more time to see a soft smile on his lips.

Jeno had always been attractive. He was handsome and sweet but with the way he always matched your energy, you couldn’t help but congratulate the lucky person he’d end up with.

Turning around as you finish your last sandwich, you notice Jaemin staring at you. This time though, his stare doesn’t make you feel small and all of a sudden your heart beats normally under his gaze. You flash him a smile before continuing to pack the sandwiches into a bag.

Watching you and Jeno work together to prepare everything for the day, Jaemin wonders if you two had always been like this. Did you bounce off each other just as easily as you and Jaemin had?

Thinking back to that one movie night where he walked in on Jeno teasing you before helping you with drinks, Jaemin reluctantly agrees that yes, it’s always been like this for you and Jeno. Had he simply not cared until now or had he been bothered this whole time?

He can’t help but notice that shine in your eyes. But this time it’s not directed at him, it’s only when you focus on Jeno.

He thought about it a lot last night, his mind not allowing him to sleep. All he could think of was you.

Na Jaemin has come to the conclusion, he likes you.

When you finally finish fighting against the sand as you make your way towards the ocean, hauling supplies and chairs, your group starts to set everything out.

While Haechan and Renjun argue over how to set the umbrella up, Jisung is already leaving to go look for shells with Chenle following right behind him. Jeno and Jaemin set up the chairs while you and Mark set out a big blanket to sit on.

“You seem happier these days,” the boy starts as he flattens out his side of the blanket, “like your consciousness isn’t being weighed down.” You look up at the boy as you finish your side and you can’t really grasp onto what he means.

Mark had always had this ‘talk in riddles, be philosophical and then move on like it didn’t happen’ way of reaching out to people. He knows things without having to be told and you know Mark Lee has you read front to back, fully memorized– just like he has all of his friends.

“I guess I have been happier,” you start as you scan your group of friends scattered around. Your eyes land on Jaemin and you can’t tell if the love you feel for him is romantic or platonic. But it doesn’t scare you. The thought of not being loved by Na Jaemin doesn’t hurt anymore, “What do you think changed?” Your question is mindless, not expecting an answer.

“I think you finally like someone who likes you back.” The statement rolls off his tongue, bounces your way, and smacks you right in the face.

Your eyes subconsciously flicker to Jeno.

Before you can say anything, Mark is already moving to settle the quarrel between Renjun, Haechan, and the umbrella.

Eyes locking with Jaemin, he smiles and you can’t help but smile back. Something in your heart is telling you not to run away from Jaemin anymore, that there’s nothing to hide– nothing to protect.

You don’t have to love Na Jaemin from afar anymore. You can love him upclose– the same way you love the rest of your friends.

Jaemin notices the switch.

Compared to yesterday, you entertain his conversations and you’re by his side. But he notices it all– especially the fact that it’s all half-hearted.

Truthfully, it’s not half-hearted. You let your guard down with Jaemin for the first time in months. He only views your actions as half-assed because he’s so used to being the center of your universe. But now he’s just like everyone else. To you, Na Jaemin is just another friend.

Nonetheless, he’s thankful you’re not avoiding him anymore. It makes him feel giddy when you laugh at his jokes or lean your head on his shoulder for a moment. When you flash him a smile he can’t help but feel lightheaded and when you shout his name he feels hot all over.

Is this what it feels like to like someone?

He eyes your figure now laying out on the blanket as you mindlessly play with its loose strings, listening to whatever Haechan is talking about.

Jisung sits beside you as he places the shells he collected along your back in a spiral pattern. The boy makes a very important note to you, “stay still”.

“You look like a creep staring at her like that,” Chenle leans over to whisper in Jaemin’s ear. His face goes red as he whips his head to look at the younger, “I’m not staring,” he defends but his voice is so weak, Chenle almost lets a laugh slip before continuing to joke, “You’re not the only creep. At least he’s more subtle about it.” Jaemin follows Chenle’s nod and his eyes lock onto Jeno’s figure, looking at you with the most lovesick gaze he’s ever seen.

“It’s getting hot, I wanna get in the water!” You whine out. The closest any of you got to the ocean today was Jisung and Chenle’s shell collecting and truthfully, you do not count their fingers grazing wet sand while running away from the waves as getting in the water.

Jaemin hesitates before he decides to speak up but he’s cut off.

“I’m almost do– Jeno!” Jisung screams as Jeno quickly gets up, grabbing your hand and pulling you up, knocking Jisung’s shells all over the place.

Jaemin watches you scream as Jeno throws you over his shoulder, running towards the ocean with Jisung chasing after him screaming about how he’s going to drown the older boy.

He watches as his friends get up and follow after the three of you and he wills himself up to follow.

When did Jeno get so confident but more importantly, when did Jisung get so loud?

It dawns on you that you really love your friends. As you watch the boys splash one another and Jisung holding true to his promise of trying to drown Jeno, sure enough you feel at home.

You float on your back, letting the water hold your figure as you look up at the clear sky.

Today felt like a rebirth for your emotions and you were thankful. Head not clouded by the same boy anymore, you had the opportunity to explore new connections and the thought of it was thrilling.

“Hi,” you slightly move your head to see Jeno swimming up to you and away from the chaos.

“Hi Jeno,” your tone is teasing, dancing on the fact that you’ve already had this same encounter today.

You feel him mindlessly drip water onto your exposed stomach as you continue floating. Your cheeks flush a soft hue of pink at the change in energy.

“You look really pretty,” The shyness in his voice catches you off guard, causing you to look up at the boy. His cheeks mirror yours, dusted lightly with pink.

Before you can respond, he continues, “Can I ask you a question?”

Jaemin watches from afar and wonders what you’re talking about.

He finds himself battling internally with whether or not it’s morally okay to pursue you while knowing his best friend might also have feelings for you. Jaemin believes he has a better chance because in his eyes, you’ve always been closer.

Little does Jaemin know, you’re already far out of his grasp.

That night, you all decide you’ll make use of the firepit as Chenle says he’ll order some food delivery and s’more supplies.

You had gone back to your room to change before going to the backyard but you felt silly when you realized you really hadn’t packed anything warm considering it was Summer.

“Do you wanna wear my hoodie?” You hear Jeno’s voice from across the room and you look up to him already holding out the enticing material. He must’ve noticed the way you kept running your hand up and down your arm for warmth

“Are you sure? You won’t get cold?” He smiles with a nod as he walks over to you, “Just wear it,” You take the hoodie, throwing it over your tank top. Your thank you comes out muffled but he hears you just fine, “Sit by me as a repayment though.”

You nod with a smile as you follow him out to the backyard, his hoodie engulfing you like a blanket.

Sitting down next to Jeno, he drapes a blanket over the two of you before beginning to impale a marshmallow.

“I’ll make this one for you.” Jaemin overhears Jeno’s good deed and he can’t help but feel like he’s watching an out of body experience. The scene looks all too familiar to him, feels too familiar to him– like you and him had done the same exact thing once.

He catches your eyes from across the fire– you shoot him a playful smile that he can’t help but return. The way the light from the flames move across your features make Jaemin’s heart race and he swears he can see the light dancing around your eyes, making them even more beautiful.

How had he never noticed before? You’re so beautiful.

Before you know it, it’s the next day and you’re packing up to leave.

Watching as the other boys climb into Mark’s car, you let your head rest against the seat with a lazy, but satisfied smile plastered on your lips. You hope you all can do this again before Summer’s over.

In the backseat with Jeno right next to you, scrolling for another movie you can watch together, you can’t help but let your eyes follow through the window and up to the house with a smile. You thought this would be a long weekend for other reasons but in the end, you’re wishing the trip didn’t feel so short.

This trip was good for you and your heart.

Jaemin starts the car, glancing at you through the rearview mirror with a soft smile. He made up his mind last night. He doesn’t think there is anything wrong with him pursuing you, if anything– may the best man win. He swears he has a whole plan on how to win your heart.

Unfortunately for him, Jaemin misses the way your pinky finger is intertwined with Jeno’s.

When you make it home, you don’t miss the way both Jeno and Jaemin hug you a beat longer than usual.

Saying your goodbyes as you and Haechan walk up to your shared apartment you feel a sudden need to scribble more in your journal.

This was a turning point. This. This was monumental.

Beach trip

My heart finally knows its place with Jaemin. He’s a great friend.

· · ─────── · ·

Jaemin is four drinks in when he realizes he’s in love with you.

To celebrate the beginning of your second year of college, your friends, mainly Haechan, deem it appropriate to turn movie night into a gathering to drink.

At the moment it’s just six of them, you and Jeno missing from the group.

Jaemin wonders where either of you could be. Jeno had mentioned going out today but didn’t tell him where. Ever since the beach trip, the boy seemed to always have something to do on Fridays but Jaemin never paid much attention to his whereabouts, though one time he checked the boy's location out of pure boredom and saw him at the mall which was strange.

The only information he had on your whereabouts was Haechan saying you’d be late, so truthfully, he knew nothing.

Over the summer, things between you and Jaemin had gone back to normal, sort of. You accepted his touch, you hung out with him one on one, your banter was back and forth, you were by his side.

He thought he was doing everything right. He was drawing you in slowly but surely. It was gonna be so perfect.

But he noticed the way you didn’t let your touch linger longer than it needed to, how it wasn’t him you sat next to during movie nights, how you still looked at Jeno instead of him when something was funny.

They had started drinking without you two, Haechan assuring that the early bird always gets the worm– or something like that.

So as Jaemin finishes the last of his third drink, he’s starting to feel his tongue become more loose. “Where are they? Is she gonna be okay walking here alone?”

The others can only murmur ‘i don’t know’ with shrugs, “They probably stopped by the apartment so she could change,” Haechan states, taking another sip from his drink.

What? You’re together?

Putting his empty can down, Jaemin reaches for another, cracking it open, “They’re together right now?” Jaemin feels strange but he chalks it up to the alcohol.

“Yeah? They go out like every Friday… They leave me all alone!” Haechan pretends he’s been wounded as he cries into Renjun’s shoulder who can only roll his eyes at the boy’s dramatics.

“What do you mean?” He feels himself clenching his can tighter, trying to use what’s left of his sober consciousness to navigate what Haechan’s saying.

“Dude, does Jeno not tell you anything? Ever since the beach trip he’s been waltzing into my apartment every Friday and stealing my best friend like I’m some sort of wicked witch!” Haechan scoffs at his own statement, “He’s a friend stealer!” Haechan shouts but Jaemin could care less.

So that’s where Jeno’s been every week. With you.

All Jaemin can let out is a soft and confused, “What?”

As if on cue, the front door opens and his eyes shoot up from his can. There you are in all your glory, Jeno’s hand wrapped in yours.

Jaemin swears he’s about to have a heart attack as he feels his chest clench in such an uncomfortable way. He thinks he can feel his heart being ripped to shreds and he wonders if you can feel so torn apart about someone you like.

He concludes that no, you cannot be this torn up about someone you like so with a heavy heart, the boy admits to no one but himself,

He is in love.

· · ─────── · ·

It’s weird how your sophomore year of college feels oddly similar to your freshman year.

The only difference is that you’re walking hand in hand with Lee Jeno.

You don’t know when the switch occurred but you noticed Jaemin distancing himself from you. At first you figured he was trying to be respectful of your relationship but when he stopped inviting you out and jumped at the feeling of your skin on his, you knew it was something more.

In fact it was.

The tables had turned, the roles reversed, the ball in the other’s court but never to be served.

Na Jaemin started falling in love with you at the exact same time you were falling out of love with him. For his own sake, the boy had no choice but to start loving you from afar.

To you, Na Jaemin is a wonderful friend but to him, you are his whole world.

a/n: and scene! thank you for reading⭐ p.s. - thinking abt writing a jeno au from his pov in the same universe! lmk what you think <3

#nct #nct dream #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct fanfic #nct dream fanfic #jaemin x reader #jaemin fluff #jaemin angst #jeno x reader #na jaemin #nct jaemin #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst

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yawnderu · 1 year ago

Note

If Simon and bimbo!reader ever had a big fight (not petty disagreements), what would they fight about? How do both handle serious fights and making up?

ahhhh :((( anon when I catch you. It'd likely be at the beginning of the relationship, before she knows about his job and he always leaves for weeks without telling her much about it

>Simon and bimbo!reader fight and make up.

“I just don't understand why you do this to me... just tell me.” Your voice is as pleading as it is demanding, eyebrows furrowed and face scrunched up in a mix of frustration and sadness.

“I can't—” He's interrupted by a small scoff coming out of you, your arms crossed as you look away and take a deep breath. He's never seen you like this before, never so... frustrated and angry. Anxiety starts to fill his soul within seconds, stuck between wanting to keep you away from his job, and wanting to reassure you.

“Do you just.... have a second family or something? Is that what it is?” The accusation makes his own face scrunch up in a mix of mild disgust and confusion. Was his unwavering loyalty to you not obvious? He never even looks at other women at all, his eyes are for you only.

“I don't.” It's all he can say to defend himself. How does he go about telling you he kills people for a living? Sure, he's protecting the world and serving the Queen, but would you look at him differently when you find out the same hands that are so gentle with you will forever be tainted with another's blood?

“Then what is it, Simon?” You never call him Simon. Even when you first met, you've always called him Si. He lets out a small sigh, shaking his head. He doesn't want to be around to fight, he just wants it all to be okay like before— yet he also understands why you're acting that way after months of being kept in the dark.

“I'll be back later.” He turns around to leave the shared flat, only being stopped by another scoff.

“Fine. Leave like you always do.” It was a low blow, you can tell that much by the way his muscles visibly tense up, bulging out of his black shirt. He shakes his head, the hand on the doorknob trembling slightly. He loves you more than anything, but can he really handle seeing the expression on your face when he tells you why he's away?

“'M in the military.” He finally turns around, walking back to you and holding your hand, sitting down on the couch and pulling you on his lap, one of his hands running down the length of your hair.

“SAS. I'll show you my contracts if you don't believe me.” He's willing to do anything to make you believe him. Each silent second only increases his anxiety, barely managing to look down at you just to see the gears shifting in your brain, putting two and two together.

“.... Is that why you always stink when you come back?” There's enough mirth in your tone to let him know you're joking, barely managing to hide the smile tugging at your lips.

“Y'sniff me like a fuckin' police dog when I'm back, love. You like it.” No matter how much you roll your eyes in fake annoyance and pretend you don't like it, you both know the truth. You cuddle up closer to him, resting comfortably on his burly body.

“Y'wear the cool uniforms, Si?” Your voice is softer, almost shy to even ask the question. He knows you like masked men— he's heard you rant about Pyramid Head and Ghostface enough times already. He hums softly in reply, nodding his head.

“Sometimes. Cool mask and all, you'd like it.” He's just teasing you at this point, trying to hold back a smile when he feels you rapidly shifting in his arms just to get closer to his face, unable to hide your excitement.

“Yeah? Can I see?” Your giddiness is almost contagious, making a deep chuckle finally escape his lips. You're not looking at him like he's a monster, you're simply excited about the idea of him wearing a mask. Maybe letting you see Ghost isn't a bad idea.

“Hmm...” He drags out, looking away and pretending to think about it just to tease you. The smack to his arm is enough to make him grin at you, stealing a kiss before adjusting you on his lap, finally allowing his body to fully relax.

“Yeah, I'll show you.”

Bimbo!Reader Masterlist

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livwritessometimes · 7 months ago

Text

End With The Spring Fling

: Part 12 (Oscar's Version)

: The Spring Fling is finally here!

: Prev

: Series Masterlist

: Main Masterlist

: author's note: And with that Oscar’s Version is finally over! Can’t believe it was a 12 part series, feels much longer than that. Can’t wait for other versions to come 💕

…

It was finally the time everyone had been waiting for. It was time for the names to go live. There was a sense of nervousness in the air, several students looking towards each other, wondering who their match was going to be. The Head of the Department of Mass Communication made her way towards the stage with a mic in hand. "I'm sure you all are excited for the grand reveal?" she questioned as cheers erupted in the venue. "Before we get on with that, I would like to call someone to the stage. You see, without this person, you would not have this reveal tonight. So please put your hands together for Ms. Y/n L/n, the person who came up with this idea," the HoD said as she passed the mic to Y/n.

"Ahh, I was not expecting this at all," Y/n said as she let out a nervous laugh. "I don't even know where to begin. I am so glad for my friends, who had to deal with me during this; I know it wasn't easy, and I really appreciate you guys for being there for me," Y/n said while looking at Alex, Dylan, Daniel, and Pierre.

"The truth is that none of this would have been possible without a certain someone's help. You see, I had no idea how to get the form up and running, and that is when my dear friend Daniel told me about this guy who can help. Let's just say the ride from that hadn't been the easiest at first, I'll admit, but over time it had become the best part of this entire project," Y/n said, smiling at the memories of her and Oscar.

"But of course life doesn't always go your way, and I messed things up with him. So what I'm trying to say here is that, if you end up finding someone through this, I hope you hold onto that person. I hope you love them and cherish them the best you can. So enjoy your night, because the results are out," Y/n said as she got off the stage.

The entire hall was filled with excitement as people pulled out their phones to see who they got. Y/n made her way towards her group when she saw him standing in the middle of the dancefloor amongst the chaos.

"Oscar?" she said as she made her way towards him.

"Did you mean that?" he questioned.

"What?" she said.

"Did you mean what you just said up there?" Oscar asked again, with a sense of urgency in his voice.

"i-um" "Yes, I did, Oscar," Y/n finally said after overcoming the surprise of seeing him there.

"I'm sorry I left yesterday. I just did not know what to say to you at that moment. God had I known that you felt the same, why would I have don-," Y/n was cut off by Oscar grabbing her face and kissing her.

"God! Why do you always have to talk so much?" Oscar asked before he leaned in again.

Y/n could hear hooting in the distance, and as she pulled away from Oscar, she turned to find the source of this being their friends, watching everything that had just happened.

Clearing his throat, Oscar said, "They're never gonna let this go, are they?" "Oh yeah, be prepared," Y/n said, shaking her head, and the two joined the dancefloor.

"Fair warning, don't let Dylan intimidate you; he likes to give the dad talk to the guys I'm dating," Y/n said, cringing at the memory of said 'dad talks' that Dylan was so fond of.

"So we're dating then?" Oscar questioned, looking at Y/n, who looked a little flustered.

"I can leave if you'd like," Y/n said as she pulled away from him.

"Oh, hush you," Oscar said, pulling her even closer than before, slowly swaying the song that was playing in the background.

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plaguechyld · 10 months ago

Note

Omggg finally a blog with dom reader instead of sub!! I'm so excited I don't know what to even request with all the thoughts in my head! I'm into power play, spanking, dumbification, praise kink and overstimulation. I can't think of a storyline but you can choose one of any of those kny characters (muzan, kokushibo, giyuu, yoriichi or kagaya ) thanks!

i’m glad you’re excited!! All of these are right up my alley too lol

first giyuu work of the blog?? Lets goooo (reader is uppermoon two along with douma)

cw: sub!giyuu, dom!gn!reader, demon!reader, uppermoon!reader, praise, spanking, dumbification, overstim, manhandling, crying, reader is said to have an angelic appearance, you/your used for reader, plot, fighting is flirting, reader has strap/cock (referred to has cock but can be interpreted at strap), demons can purr

This wasn’t the way things were supposed to happen, Giyuu was supposed to be in for a suicide mission, fighting uppermoon two alone.

The demon slayer had been confronted by the demon, you, in the dead of night when he was all alone on a patrol of the outskirts of a town in the wild lands of Japan’s countryside.

The first thing he noticed about you, embarrassingly enough, was how stunning your appearance is. Still, that didn’t stop him from drawing his katana from its sheath and baring it at you.

Giyuu swallowed when he saw your eyes, how could he not? They were beautiful after all, though they held the demonic inscription of uppermoon two.

The battle would be bloody, he knew. Your strength outweighed his by an obscene amount, your flesh could mend itself back together within mere seconds and your stamina was nearly unlimited, something he would soon come to see in a different light.

A soft smile played on your mouth, lips tugged up in a gentle manner as the skin around your eyes crinkle slightly. Each blow the hashira dealt was easily sidestepped by you, making Giyuu somewhat enchanted by you despite himself.

Your movements were so graceful, making you look like a living angel as you danced through the entourage of blade slashes directed at you.

Your smile never fades as you gradually get closer and closer to Giyuu despite him thinking that he has quite a handle at keeping you at a fair distance. The elation surprised him and he found himself soon unable to keep you more than a few feet away from him.

Sweat started beading on his forehead as he tried harder, channeling every skill he knew of from both his breathing style and swordsmanship in general. But despite the worry he was feeling at your nearing presence, you didn’t intend him any harm, you just had to exhaust the hashira to the point where he couldn’t fight back any longer.

Truth be told you found him absolutely beautiful, those deep sapphire eyes and dark black hair framing his pale face. Those fluid water-like movements, a signature of water breathing users, just looked so much better when it was Giyuu moving in that way.

In your century of life you have come across many different demons, demon slayers and normal mortals.. Even playing around with a handful that you found physically attractive, though none ever tugged at any heartstrings of yours, nor achieved a second glance.

This human was different, he was undeniably handsome but also his quiet nature intrigued you.

Mortals and even demons varied in personality, of course. But when they were in the presence of you they either become obnoxiously loud, crying and screaming and whatnot. Either that or they would cower in fear, not even daring to speak a word to you, causing you to quickly become bored with their existence.

But Giyuu was different, he was quiet, not screaming at you for your existence but at the same time his silence was not driven by fear. No, it was driven by the pure focus driving him forward.

Undoubtedly Giyuu harbored some hate towards you merely for the fact you were a demon. It didn’t bother you, however. He was respectful in his fight, never once did an insult slip past his plush lips which you found to be quite a pleasing change of pace.

And so you let him fight, let him display his years of training in such a gorgeous way.

Giyuu wasn’t completely unaware of your silent musing, he noticed the way you gazed at him with dreamy eyes. He saw the way you allowed his every attack to finish, even if it never hit you.

Those small things go unnoticed by many, so many that it has annoyed you for multiple decades. But you knew that Giyuu saw them and that only fueled your interest in him.

The fight was quiet, only the soft rustling of fabric, impact against grass and sword slashes swinging through the air.

But at the same time it spoke louder than any word could. The soft dance you two were in together grew closer and closer like it was nearing its grand finish, however that end would not be in death nor would it come that night.

The both of you seemed to look past the slashing of Giyuu’s sword, focusing on the small gestures of movement that brought a soft hue of pink to the hashira’s ears.

Your hand would graze his blade for a moment before he danced away from you again. He wasn’t that easy to woo, you found, which made you try even more. But at the same time Giyuu never rejected you, no. He was just putting on a show, a beautiful one at that.

The two of you had lived a life of darkness and bloodshed so a meeting such as this was only appropriate, no? To many others it would appear that the hashira’s fate was sealed and in a way it was, though there was no promise of death when he was with you.

It was important for the first promise between them to remain silent, not spoken aloud. The words in early days of meeting are unimportant in such a world, the quiet bond that was being built was much more precious, like a small defenseless thing that you wanted to shelter. It was valuable to you, you realized.

In some ways Giyuu felt the same. He just couldn’t help it, he was lonely. He had been lonely since childhood so the promise from such a seemingly… angelic demon seemed tempting to him. That temptation was already drawing him in, he had fallen to it, how could he not? You were so pleasing to be in the presence of. Despite the clear warning of the kanji inscribed in your beautiful e/c eyes the hashira found himself unable to pull away.

You welcomed him, you welcomed him to you, ignoring the biological hatred between the two of you because why would that matter? You had all eternity to have whatever you desired, why would principles make it any different?

The need, no matter how faint, was all too visible to you. Giyuu didn’t hide it from you, never averting his gaze from your own as if he wanted to drive your primal hunger for him. He didn’t fear your fangs nor your sharp nails that could dig into his flesh if he were to make a single misstep.

As his stamina ran out his muscles began to ache, his movements were growing more sluggish from their dance dragging on too long for his human body to handle.

This notion didn’t slip past your notice, after all the two of you were already so in tune with each other despite never speaking a word.

You let him drop right into your arms from fatigue and somehow Giyuu didn’t find himself afraid of what was to come.

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Slept left Giyuu after some hours of sleeping. He found himself waking up in a lavish western style bed. The room was comfortable, having a nice scent of something like vanilla and cinnamon.

The hashira found that couldn’t bring himself to sit up out of the bed, feeling too content to even consider it much.

Your presence was easy to sense within the home due to the fact you didn’t bother to mask it from the demon slayer. The trust between the two of you was oddly strong despite the strange nature of its founding.

It didn’t alarm Giyuu when you entered what he could only assume to be a guest bedroom. In your hands was a bowl of pork cutlet, well seasoned with some vegetables on the side. The exhausted demon slayer took the bowl of food with a thankful nod.

As he ate he was able to hear your voice for the first time as you asked him a simple question.

“Your name?” ah, of course your voice would be as attractive as your appearance. The mere sound of it had turned the tips of Giyuu’s ears pink once more as he replied in a soft voice.

“Tomioka Giyuu.” It was a short response but he was happy to see that you didn’t mind his lack of verbalization. You gave him your name in return and he nodded, finishing up his meal with eagerness.

You chuckle softly as you take his empty bowl away and at the same time set down a glass of water. Giyuu smiled softly to himself, hiding it behind the rim of the cup as he took a grateful drink.

This was some of the most gentle treatment he had received after years of tough training, bloodshed and ostracization from his fellow slayers. So he couldn’t help but feel at ease around you, despite your status as an uppermoon demon.

You couldn’t help but feel similarly with his own status as a high ranking demon slayer, a hashira. The two of you didn’t feel like you were in danger when you were around each other which was out of the ordinary but at the same time pleasing.

It was quite comforting to finally be able to form a meaningful connection with someone after all these years.

The wounds he had allowed himself to sustain during a recent mission were now rebandaged, Giyuu noticed. You had spent the time wrapping his arm and waist in fresh white bandages, making the hashira feel a warmth growing in his chest.

Those seemingly small things were quite a gentle and thoughtful thing for a demon to even consider doing, he thought. So the fact that you did it made it all the more special to him.

You had left Giyuu to his thoughts for a little while as you cleaned his dish before putting it away.

You returned to his side not long after and this time the two of you didn’t stay separated for long. Soon you were seated on the comfortable duvet cover of the bed Giyuu had been resting in, looking over at him.

A slight shift in his posture edged his hand just a little closer to your body, a silent invitation for you to take hold of it.

And that you did, your cooler hand slipped into his rather warm and calloused one, gently running your thumb over the top of it as Giyuu allowed his deep blue eyes to flutter shut. Soft touches were so rare in Giyuu’s profession and he was really feeling that fact now.

Some might consider him touch starved, which he couldn’t disagree with. So when you gave him that gentle touch Giyuu could find himself craving more and more. He didn’t care about being greedy and honestly, neither did you.

So a simple hand touch soon turned into you rubbing his arm then to the two of you in a joined embrace on that soft bed. It was painfully comfortable, lying there with Giyuu. So the two of you remained wrapped in each other’s arms for a while longer.

Your hands eventually found his dark black hair, undoing the ponytail it was currently in, letting it hang loose. Giyuu hummed in question only to be met by you slipping down into a lying position on the bed and opening your arms for him.

Who was he to refuse the demon that took him in? So of course he allowed his body to sink against your’s, letting out a soft breath of content when you begin rubbing slow circles on his back. It didn’t bother him that he was without a shirt at that moment, not at all.

All that mattered was being snuggled against you, being pressed so comfortingly against your demonic body. Giyuu loved that you welcomed him into your arms, that you rubbed his back and tended to his wounds. That you cared to make him feel this way.

And maybe.. Perhaps you would also care enough to make him feel better in another way. That thought seeped into his mind with no warning nor invitation but once it was in it made itself a home. Giyuu couldn’t get the thought of you doing such a sinful and loving thing.

Your eyes were busy gazing at his face, admiring his beautiful features. Once he looks up at you he instantly notices how you’re watching him with that sweet look on your face. Instantly he felt blush slowly spreading across his cheeks. You giggle softly at his reaction and cup his cheeks in your hands, gently squeezing them.

“May I?” you inquire with a quiet breath before smiling when Giyuu nods his head. Your lips meet his own soft ones in a tender kiss.

It’s calm at first until Giyuu leans into it more, urging you to take that next step. Of course, who were you to deny him? So your tongue meets his own, exploring his mouth for the first time that night.

Giyuu was so needy yet so inexperienced, he didn’t know where to place his hands and was messily copying the motions of your tongue.

So you take the lead, your hands holding his waist possessively, rubbing all over his skin and bandages with a firm touch.

He tasted so sweet and his little muffled whines were so adorable to listen to. It was so hard to take this slow but you knew that he needed it that way, despite his cold facade he was quite a sensitive thing.

His body remained on top of yours but in no way was the hashira in control, he had relinquished that the moment he fell into your arms.

You eventually sat up with Giyuu in your lap, clinging to you like you’d vanish if he were to let go.

Giyuu felt his air supply running low so reluctantly he parted from your lips, gasping for breath soon after. Your smile never faded and your hands never left his body, they rubbed his waist slowly before eventually grasping it in full.

Your grip wasn’t particularly firm nor possessive at the moment and even so Giyuu could feel warmth pooling in his tummy from the mere touch. It wasn’t long before you sunk your lips back against his, pulling him into another searing kiss.

It was just so perfect that the hashira couldn’t resist attempting to clumsily roll his hips, not knowing what to do but feeling a tightness growing in his pants. After your lips separate for a second time you don’t waste a moment in placing hands on Giyuu’s hips to guide him properly.

A soft whimper escaped his lips, it was breathy and pure, so painfully pure to you. You had to have more, Giyuu was just so stunning when he was like this, after all. Your hands picked up the pace, making the slayer gasp in moderate surprise before leaning his head into the crook of your neck.

You didn’t mind because in that position you could hear each and every sound that Giyuu let out. Every breathy gasp and quiet whimper were easily picked up by you, driving you forward.

Giyuu bit down on his bottom lip out of pure instinct. He was practically in heaven, or so he thought. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself- or you, from continuing the passion that was slowly unfolding in this quaint bedroom; hidden away from the rest of Japan.

“Please, more.” he whispers to you in an almost bashful tone. You knew exactly what he desired and you weren’t about to deny your beautiful human anything, at least not yet. So you obey, unbuckling his belt and “accidentally” brushing your hand against the prominent bulge in his dark black pants.

Each touch of that nature had the water hashira tensing and sucking in a breath of surprise and need. You just had this air about you; it was driving him insane. If you could just do it, touch him there; where he needs it-

Giyuu squeaks at the soft smack that was laid against his now bare thigh. Your hand was quick to rub the soft skin there, of course; but it served as a reminder to be good, to not go off on his own. He needs to listen to you, of course he does; he has no idea what to do.

“Shh, just follow my lead. Listen, baby.” you mutter in reply to his soft pleading sounds. Giyuu swallows before nodding his head, he knows that he has to be good for you to get what he wants, somehow.

Ah, but it was so hard! He was sitting in your lap in only his fundoshi, rolling his hips at a pace you control and to top it off you were still fully clothed. Giyuu merely buried his face even more so against your neck, choosing to stay quiet.

But that just wouldn’t do, would it? No; he needs to voice what he wants with you. You shift him in your lap, placing your thigh between his own so that he can get more friction against his bulge as you whisper teasingly in his ear.

“You want something, what is it?” he tenses slightly as his cheeks flush more. He should’ve known that you would figure it out; after all he wasn’t good at hiding anything from you, clearly. Swallowing his shyness after a moment he replies,

“You still.. Have all your clothing on…” so that was what he was thinking about? How sweet. You chuckle in light amusement before giving him one guided hip roll against your thigh.

“Then take it off.” you reply without missing a beat, making the hashira pause and look up at you with slightly glazed over blue eyes and a confused expression on his face. However that confusion soon turns into blush as he looks down- avoiding your gaze as he nods his head.

With trembling hands he pulls both your kimono and under-kimono open, revealing your chest to his flustered but oh so hungry gaze. You had removed your haori long before settling down in bed with the hashira so now all that remained was your kimono, obi and hakama pants.

Next Giyuu unties your obi with unsure hands. You take the fabric from him and look into his eyes, clearly uninterested in what becomes of it because of the lust that was starting to get to you.

The hashira swallows before continuing to help you undress and slowly, piece by piece, your stunning body is revealed.

But he can’t have all of the fun, can he? So you toy with the edge of his fundoshi for a little while, making Giyuu blush even further before eventually pulling it off. The hashira instinctually covers his erection with his hands, embarrassment flooding through his face.

You smirk softly and take his hands in yours, bringing them away from covering anything. You lay soft kisses on his knuckles as well, smiling at the way he was blushing because of it.

A soft whisper, or rather plea of your name here and there, had your patience nearly snapping. But you had to remind yourself that your baby didn’t know any better, not yet. Giyuu was just calling out for you, wanting you closer, wanting more of your touch; wanting more of you.

“Press your back to my chest.” you instruct in a calm voice, Why were you so calm and collected? Giyuu was blushing so much that he thought his skin was on fire at this point. You really were going to ruin him; though he obeys nonetheless. With his back flush against your chest you wrap your arms loosely around his waist.

You slide one hand to his erect cock while the other trails further up, playing with one of his soft pink nipples.

A light pinch with the first stroke of his cock has Giyuu’s hands flying up to cover his mouth. But even then he isn’t able to hide his squeal from you. You rub your hand up and down the length of his dick, occasionally circling his tip with the pad of your thumb.

“None of that now, darlin’. I want to hear every sound you make.” you whisper, your voice almost a soft hiss. You had to resist being just a bit harsher in your words with him because you knew Giyuu wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

Besides, you had other things planned for tonight…

Giyuu nods meekly as he lowers his hands, instead balling them up into fists as your hand picks up its pace. Another moan is pulled out of the hashira as you give his nipple a sharp tug.

Ah, his bare shoulder is just too tempting for you to not bite… So you lean in and sink your teeth, albeit quite gently for a demon, into the juncture between his neck and shoulder, eliciting a sharp cry from him.

“HnGAH?!~” another bite, another squeal or cry. It was an addicting cycle but you eventually began licking over the marks you had already left, not wanting to be too rough quite yet. Your hand also never stopped, driving Giyuu closer and closer to orgasming.

Your fingers leave his chest to press against his lips, coaxing him to suck on them and coat them with his saliva. For what? He doesn’t know yet; though he will soon. He arches his back, hipping bucking into your hand as he feels the coil about to snap.

“Close, close!~” is all of the muffled warning you get before the hashira comes, pearly white cum staining your hand. You hum, bringing it to your lips to taste much to Giyuu’s embarrassment.

“Mmpfh!” he protests, wordlessly, due to the fingers currently playing with his tongue. You merely hum in response, finding the taste of your darling to be quite pleasant. Looking down into his flustered eyes makes you chuckle softly before giving him a kiss on the head in response.

“Sorry, hun. Couldn’t resist tasting you.” you chuckle quietly before pulling the two fingers you had in the hashira’s mouth out. They were thoroughly coated in saliva now and perfect for what you intended to use them for.

You let Giyuu get another whine out before flipping him to lay with his chest flush against yours once again.

Giyuu can’t help but feel quite comfortable in this position, being able to hold onto you- practically hug you all while feeling your bare skin against his was something he was never going to get tired of.

Your dry hand slowly finds its place on Giyuu’s perky ass, giving it a few rubs before lightly pressing your two wet fingers against his hole.

He sucks in a nervous breath, never having been penetrated before; only jacking off when he was alone at times. But you’re there to soothe his worries, of course you are. You’ve been so sweet to him this entire time.

“Shhh, it’s alright. I’ll go slow, okay?” you murmur in a soft voice before laying another gentle kiss on the hashira’s forehead. Giyuu nods his head as he looks up at you with wide trusting eyes, squeezing them shut when you push your finger in, burying the first knuckle in his warmth. He was grateful you were adding them one at a time as he wasn’t sure if he could take them in from the beginning at once.

“Ngh.. ahn~” his moans are like little mumbles as he smushes his face into your chest, hands holding onto your back as he pushes back on your finger slightly.

Soon enough another knuckle is in him, then another until your middle finger is completely inside.

Giyuu shifts his hips slightly, trying to get used to the sensation of having something inside him like this.

“I’m going to add another finger, alright?” you warn quietly, only acting when Giyuu gives a little nod in response. You slowly ease your middle finger out of him before readjusting so that both your middle and ring fingers slip into the first knuckle. Giyuu lets out a soft hum of pleasure, shifting his hips to let you know that he wants you to continue.

And you do, you ease those two fingers until they’re fully inside of him and at that point the hashira is moaning softly into your chest. You kiss the top of his head as you begin moving them in and out at a nice and slow pace, allowing him to get used to the sensations he’s receiving.

Your fingers work diligently, pressing deep within him every time you move them back in. Occasionally you spread them apart to loosen his muscles, to which he lets out a moan or whine, depending on the distance between your fingers.

Soon enough the tips of your fingers pad against a soft little bump that causes Giyuu to squeal and arch his back without warning. His eyes fly open for a moment before his body shudders and once more clings onto your own.

“Is that where it feels the best?” you ask him, not expecting to receive an answer as your fingers prod away at that sensitive spot. Giyuu can’t answer, his voice too busy being used for moans and whines from the stimulation he was receiving at your hand; or rather, fingers.

Though, to your surprise Giyuu manages a slight nod in response to your question. How sweet… you just had to tease him a little bit, of course. So you press nice and firmly against that spot, not taking your fingers off like before.

“NYAGH!~ Whu-wai-” his moans are like a sweet melody to your ears, he’s begging, pleading with you. It’s too much, he really isn’t used to these types of touches.

So when you finally return to your normal pace he slumps down against your chest again, whining and whimpering to himself.

You eventually find that he’s been stretched enough, though you’re still thoughtful about how his body will react to the real thing. So you reach over to the nightstand and retrieve a bottle of oil.

You pour a decent amount onto his already twitching hole, noticing how he squirms slightly from the feeling. You kiss him on the forehead, whispering a soft reassurance before spreading the oil along his walls.

His hands still grab at your arms, your chest, your back; whatever he can get at he’s instantly clinging onto. He whines softly when you remove your fingers, having grown used to the sensations they provided.

“It’s okay, darling..” you whisper in his ear, your voice calm with barely concealed lustful hunger. A soft sigh makes its way from Giyuu’s lips, signaling the fact he was quite content in your arms.

However a soft gasp does slip past his lips as he feels your tip pressing teasingly against his slick and oiled rim, as if you did such a thing just to hear him moan more.

Your teasing movement was met with a tremor of Giyuu’s legs and his face being pressed against your neck. It was sweet that he was acting so shyly when only a few moments ago he had pleaded with you, whispering your name in that breathy voice of his.

But you could only tease Giyuu for so long, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to take much of it without proper training.

So you gently grab ahold of his hips, squeezing them lightly as you guide him to slide down on your cock. A choked whine sounds from Giyuu’s lips as his hands squeeze you, holding on for dear life.

“Ah! Feels.. W-weird.. Mngh..” he slurs into your neck, hands still squeezing you as tightly as he could manage. You hum softly in response, eyes focusing on the hashira’s hips.

Giyuu shifts around in your lap, trying to get used to the sensation of being so full. Soft whimpers leave his lips every time you readjust him slightly, getting him into place.

“Hngh.. move? P-please?” He asks, innocent eyes looking up into your own demonic inscribed one. How adorable. He was just too cute to say no to.

You hum and place a lingering kiss on Giyuu’s already sweaty forehead as you buck your hips up into him.

Soon enough you move your beauty onto the bed so that he can relax on his back, arms and legs wrapped around your body as you move your hips at a slow and smooth pace.

You thrust your hips forward, driving your cock into the hashira’s tight heat again and again so that you can soak up the sweet moans Giyuu lets out. They’re heavenly to listen to, sounding like a siren’s call.

“Good boy, you’re doing so good.” you whisper in his ear as your hips keep moving, continuing to thrust your cock deep into his hole.

Heat spreads over Giyuu’s cheeks as he clenches around your dick at the praise, making you unable to resist pressing a kiss to his soft lips again.

He bucks his hips up to meet your every thrust as you pick up the pace you were moving at, now bullying his prostate perfectly.

“Mnghh~ close…” he murmurs between moans that continue to grow in volume, signifying the truth behind his words.

“I know baby, I know.” you reply with a few more strong thrusts of your hips, driving Giyuu closer and closer to his peak.

With one more harder movement of your hips Giyuu let out a wail, cum spurting from the tip of his cock as his nails dug into your back.

You made the choice to not allow yourself to heal the marks that the demon slayer was leaving on your back, you wanted to be able to admire them in the morning after all.

However you don’t stop your hips there, no. Giyuu was just too cute and warm for you to be able to control yourself. The hashira let out a startled moan before sinking his teeth into your shoulder to muffle his sounds.

He only let go to whine out, “t’much! ‘Soo m-muhhch!~” How sweet. It was adorable to hear him whine about everything being too intense for him to handle but at the same time thrusting his own hips up to meet your harsh pounding.

Tears cascade down the Hashira’s face, making him seem even more pathetically cute than before. His beautiful blue eyes roll back in his head as you hit that sweet spot over and over again, causing his dick to harden once more.

He can feel himself growing closer despite having come not that long ago. You were just too good, too perfectly attuned to all of his needs.

A second orgasm rips through him, causing him to arch his back and let out a filthy moan that's soon silenced by your lips connecting with his. It's so much, it's too much!

Giyuu feels like he’s drowning in the best pleasure imaginable. Though he expects you to stop now, after all you’ve gotten him to cum twice tonight and that's quite a lot for him, at least.

But you don’t, you keep going and even pick up your pace slightly. It punches sweet little “Uh uh uh”’s out of the poor thing, making it clear to you that he’s too fucked out to whine about it.

Your hand comes down to hold onto his chin, making him look up at you with that oh so pretty fucked out expression of his.

“Hm, you can take another round, can’t you baby?” you ask, the question obviously rhetorical as both him and you know that his brain is too mushy to answer you.

Instead Giyuu gives a weak whine of protest before holding onto you tighter. Though, his body is a stark contrast of the complaint he had just let out; he’s wiggling his hips, urging you to continue moving your own.

So with a soft chuckle you continue, slamming your cock deep into him, ramming so far inside that Giyuu swears that he’s seeing stars.

“AHN!- mnHN~.. ‘Omgohhhdddd!-" The hashira’s voice is broken up by his heavenly moans, unable to stop himself as you continue giving all the pleasure that you could possibly give him.

Your stamina is downright insane, though what could Giyuu expect. After all, you are one of the higher ranking uppermoon demons.

Even then, you can feel your pace slipping as your thrusts grow sloppier- more intense in pace and less like the strong, deep and practiced ones you had done prior.

“‘M close, baby. Want me to fill you up some more, Giyuu? Hmm?” You murmur into his ear, your breath hot and heavy as you breathe in Giyuu’s intoxicating scent.

Giyuu nods fervently in response as he screws his deep blue eyes shut. His cheeks are all rosy and stained with dried tear marks, making him all the more adorable.

He hiccups as you finally slow your pace, hips moving slower as you cradle his shaking body close to your own.

Oh? It appeared he had cum for a third time from that sloppy pace. What a sensitive thing he is.

You kiss Giyuu’s forehead, finding it drenched in sweat with his black bangs sticking to his. He looks up at you with a dazed look when you finally slow to a stop before closing his eyes again.

A smile finds its way onto your lips as you pull out of him, making him gasp, arching his back for one last time.

Giyuu whines softly, opening those tired eyes of his again as he searches for your touch.

“Mmngh.. Stay…” The hashira murmurs, calling out for you in that sweet and quiet voice of his.

How could you refuse? So of course you wrap yourself around his weakened body.

You use a soft cloth you dipped in the lukewarm water that had been sitting out in a glass to clean the cum from Giyuu’s tummy.

Your touch is gentle as you clean him up as best you can for the moment, after all the poor thing was much too tired for a proper wash.

In return the hashira snuggles up to you, peppering shy kisses to your neck as a thank you for the night as he was much too tired to talk.

You release a quiet purr in return, it's a sweet and gentle sound which makes it soothing for Giyuu to listen to.

The hashira curls up properly after you set the cloth down, feeling quite content to be wrapped in your arms like this.

He falls asleep quite quickly, clearly your shared night of intimacy had gotten to him quite quickly.

You merely smile and lay another kiss on him, this time to the top of Giyuu’s head.

“How sweet…” You whisper to yourself. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to prolong this… relationship.

#sub character #kny smut #kny #sub kny #dom reader #demon slayer #kny x you #smut #n/sfw #giyuu #sub giyuu #kny giyuu #giyuu x reader #giyuu tomioka #dumb wh0re #demon x #demon x human

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yuansie · 12 days ago

Text

ocean memories : and forever blessed by the sea.

synopsis. subtle changes may never last but it will leave a lasting impact on your soul. and because of desire, the mighty fall. you suppose that will happen to you soon.

pairing. rafayel x fem! non mc! reader

warnings. kind of slight talks of desire (as sin... kind of), implied kiss, mentions of anxiety. if there is anything i'm missing, please let me know!

genres. fluff, angst

rating. pg-13

w/c. 2.3k

a/n. HELLOOOOOO this is nawt proof read... again. WE ARE FINALLY AT THE ANGSTTTTT I LOVE ANGST IM SO EXCITED TO WRITE ANGST I BREATHE AND LIVE FOR ANGST HAHFAHWEFHAWE

YOU’RE SURE THAT EVERYONE HAS NOTICED THIS CHANGE; it is a change so bright that it is impossible they haven’t noticed. rafayel is often near you while you go about completing your duties: he is always next to you while you pray for the lemurians visiting the temple, heal those with injuries, among other things. but you are sure they haven't noticed this one subtle change, the one where blue and red colored eyes stare at you longer. you feel the way his gaze lands on you, how his stare lingers before rafayel averts his gaze to whoever it is that wants to speak to him.

if you can feel his gaze, then you are sure that he can feel yours.

“miss priestess?” the little girl from before, whose name is arabelle, tugs on your hand. you both are kneeling in front of a statue of your god, and your ocean eyes flutter open to meet her curious ones.

“yes?”

she fiddles with her fingers for a moment, replying with a timid voice, “why is it that you never show your tail?”

you smile and close your eyes once more. “well,” you hum, “showing your tail is related to how we lemurians confess our affections... if one believes our scales to be beautiful, then you know what that means.”

“what does that have to do with you?” arabelle asks, tilting her head to the side.

“a priest cannot love another but our god,” you answer, “their entire life must be dedicated to him; thus, why i cannot show my tail.” pinching her cheek, you continue, “do you still want to be a priestess to him knowing this? that you may never love anyone but him?”

arabelle gives you a firm nod, eyes full of determination. “i still want to serve our sea god.”

“god of tides,” you correct, “he has yet to do the ceremony.”

“but we all know he will be the sea god soon,” the girl beams. “there is no doubt of that.”

the bells of the temple chime loudly, so you get up from the ground and hold your hand out. arabelle grabs it, thanking you as you lift her up and take her to the doors.

“miss priestess,” she whispers, motioning for you to lean down.

you do so, blinking, “what is it?”

she cups a hand around her mouth, “he is watching you."

your jaw is slack when you lean back, watching the little girl wave goodbye to you as the temple’s doors close. you’re suddenly aware of him, his burning stare, and you are aware of the blooming heat inside of you.

“my priestess,” you can hear the amusement in his tone, and you shiver when he presses his hands flat against your shoulders, “you have been sneaking glances at me while on duty—why is that?”

the warmth he radiates makes you shiver and has your mind turning into mush. you can’t think, or maybe you don’t want to. you just want to be next to him.

“hm?” the hum he lets out is a low rumble, “why are you not answering?”

you swallow thickly, your throat suddenly dry. “you—”

rafayel drops his chin on your shoulder, his purple locks of hair tickling your cheek. “it matters not what you answer, for i know the truth that you may not even know yourself.”

honestly, you aren’t paying attention—you’re too focused on the dizzying warmth that hypnotizes you, lulling you into your thoughts where you can only dream what it would be like to indulge the desires you have.

you wish for him.

you crave rafayel, whether it is as his priestess or as any other normal lemurian, you crave rafayel.

your clear your throat and glance at him, “how is it being among your people for so long now?”

his lips quirk upwards, “it is fun.” he stands and you turn. “i like it a lot for i see you more often now.”

heat pours into your cheeks, burning like the sun you saw on the days you managed to go to the surface with rafayel when you were kids. “you… you should not do that,” you mumble, your gaze downcast. an inky fog seeps into your chest, tainting whatever it was that made you feel light. “that is not proper.”

rafayel doesn't say anything, instead choosing to gently tilt your head up to meet his eyes, both his hands on either side of your head. his eyes, always two-toned, are suddenly dark. the usual blue is akin to obsidian now, the color giving way to the red hue at the bottom of his irises. it is hypnotic and wipes your mind, leaving a blank slate. “you need not worry,” he speaks softly, “for i can do whatever i desire.”

you open your mouth to say something, but he beats you to it. “come.”

“pardon?” you raise your eyebrows.

he sighs, “come.” rafayel holds out his hand and you take it. a pleased hum resonates from his throat as he leads you away from the entrance of the temple and towards the back where his personal chamber resides.

“why are we here?” you pinch your brows together, confused, yet you let him drag you inside and push you on his bed. from there, you watch as he towers over you, a smirk plastered on his lips. rafayel presses his pointer finger to your forehead, pushing you so that your back is on the bed.

“we are here,” he says, taking a seat next to you, “because you need to rest.”

you move to get up and he only pushes you back. “i can do that in my quarters,” your tense shoulders relax. “i do not need to do that here.”

“i want you here,” rafayel peers at you, the look in his eyes rendering you silent. he leans towards you, carefully taking off the coral circlet on your head and placing it next to the bed. gently, he swipes his thumb over your cheek, his touch feeling like a warm breeze. “stay.”

“…am i to sleep in this?” you huff through your nose, lips quirked upwards in amusement as red begins to seep to rafayel’s ears.

“no,” he slowly says. “i will fetch your sleeping gown.”

it didn’t take long for rafayel to retrieve your gown from your room, and as he is about to leave, his eyes suddenly catch sight of something that sticks out from the desk in the corner of your room. it is so small, so well hidden that he wouldn't have seen it if it weren't for the corner that sticks out from under the slab of wood, the bright color on that small piece calling out to him.

so he approaches it, the curiosity swimming in his mind making his fingers twitch in anticipation as he reaches out to grab it. he gently tugs it out from under the desk, revealing a piece of paper with such vibrant colors plastered on it.

he is staring at himself on the paper.

the smile that breaks out on his features is contagious enough that any lemurian would mirror his expression with a glance at him. you drew him, and he didn't know you had such a talent. you drew him, and he could feel the delicacy of the strokes on the paper, the thoughts that plagued you as you intricately added details to his features shown on the paper.

you drew him because he is your muse.

you drew him because surely you reciprocate his feelings.

when he goes back to his personal chambers, the giddy feeling in his chest softens and is replaced by a quiet admiration. your chest rises and falls slowly, your sea foam colored hair framing your face. rafayel sits next to you, your gown slipping from his hold and falling onto the sheets of his bed, his fingers gently tracing the slope of your nose, going over your eyelids and falling underneath the blue paint drawn in the same symbols that decorate his face and body, and finally lands on your lips.

“my pearl.” he rubs your bottom lip as if in a trance, the softness of it putting him under a trance and convincing him into leaning down while closing his eyes. “my coral… my everything.”

he can feel you.

he can taste you.

you are the warmth that he craves, the warmth that he yearns to protect, the warmth that he wants to have.

and in the haze of his overflowing affections, the god of tides does not sense the slight twitch of your hand.

you are in the midst of healing an elder of whalefall city when a palm lands on your shoulder, the touch tickling you. your skin flushes at the contact, though you try your hardest to not be swayed by the temptation that swirls in your soul to indulge rafayel.

“my priestess,” he purrs, his honeyed voice echoing in your ears. rafayel looks over your shoulder and watches the blue light from your hands wrap around the elder’s head in swirls, glowing. “i see that you are working hard to wake this elder from his eternal-like sleep.”

“i am the only one who can do this,” you reply. “what brings you here? should you not be in the prayer room?”

“i am going to the surface.”

the blue light dims, and you face rafayel. “you mustn't,” you tell him. “all of lemuria is awake.”

rafayel hums. “there is something i wish to retrieve,” he pauses, the corners of his mouth curling upwards into a pretty smile that renders you breathless, “…something i wish to gift you. it is buried in the sands of the island.”

there is a look of determination on rafayel, the kind of determination that says that he will go regardless of what you say. you sigh, “you must be back before the end of the day.”

there is pleasant burn in his chest as he answers. “i will do as you say,” he whispers, his hand grabbing your own in order to bring it to his lips, pressing a kiss that lingers on the skin of the back of your hand. “i promise you that i will be back.”

you wish time had ticked by faster, maybe then you wouldn’t feel deep anxiety take root in your chest.

“has there been word from the deep sea?”

taking a deep breath, you turn your head to the side and smile at the crowd gathered in the prayer room. “no.”

panicked whispers erupt amidst the crowd. you face the statue in front of you and close your eyes, clasping your hands tighter. “we are in times of peace,” you continue, “that is why i have not received word from the deep sea.”

“benevolent priestess of the sea,” someone says, “you have not even gotten indication from it about the ceremony?”

“the ceremony will be soon. there is no doubt that the deep sea will soon send word concerning it.” you really hope it does. “times of no strife can only mean that the ceremony will soon be upon lemuria, so worry not for our god will soon be the sea god.”

as the crowd leaves after the loud chiming of the temple bells, you can only pace in front of the now closed doors. rafayel has yet to return and the deep sea has not sent you word.

rafayel has yet to return and the deep sea has not sent you word.

rafayel has yet to return and the deep sea has not sent—

you stop.

there is a familiar warmth that brushes past your arms, swirling around you in wisps of light blue. you cup your hands, palms facing the ceiling, and an empty oyster falls into your palm.

it falls quickly as it had landed in your hands, clattering against the stone, the singular word etched on it searing itself in your mind.

DISASTER.

with shaking hands, you lean down and grab the oyster, pressing a wobbly kiss to it. the oyster slowly become sea foam, and you make your way to rafayel’s personal chambers.

disaster… the deep sea has sent you a new divination: there will be disaster. will it be soon or later?

sea salt, lavender, cedar, hints of citrus.

rafayel is back.

you whirl around, your chest pounding with fear and relief. “rafaye—” his name dies at the tip of your tongue, and you can feel your heart slow down. your blood is cold as you watch him enter the temple, the body of a woman in his arms. “rafayel, what—”

“leave,” he mutters, walking past you.

there is a terrible ache that blossoms in your chest, an unbearable heat that presses against your heart. you do not want to leave, not when you have to discuss this new omen the deep sea has sent you.

but you walk out of his room without saying a word because at the end of the day, you are his priestess and he is your god.

the benevolent priestess of the sea does not speak to the god of tides, and it seems like all of lemuria has yet to notice.

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OCEAN MEMORIES, yuansie 2025

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ahsxual · 1 year ago

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Hi! Your writing is wonderful, and I wanted to wish you the best of luck on your exams in advance 🥰 could you imagine the stoic Sang-woo proposing to his girlfriend? Idk the idea of him being in a relationship and coming to terms with his emotions fascinates me. Thanks!

Sweet Proposal

Pairing: Cho Sang-woo x GN!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2,2k

A/N: Awww thank you, dear anon! I truly appreciate your kind words, it means the world to me 🥺💓 I have to say that I agree with you and I absolutely loved your idea for this request! I hope you enjoy my writing and I wish you the best <33 I wrote this request a long time ago and never posted it idk why, but here goes (my apologies🥺)

You and Sang-woo have been dating a few years now: you met him through his mother, the woman who you visited everytime you passed by her store and who you always bought something fresh to eat. Her products were of great quality, besides the fact that she was the kindest woman you have ever met in your entire life. She treated you like her own daughter/son, and since you lived by yourself in south korea, you really appreciated having someone who you could count on. Whenever you had a bad day, you would tell her and she would help you by giving you the best advices from her life experience, so your relationship was pretty close. Until one day, her son visited her, and that's when you met the love of your life.

"Good morning, miss Cho!" you greeted your second mother as you liked to call her, only for her to turn to you with the biggest smile and bright eyes on her face, as always. However, this time she had company.

"Oh, my sweet Y/N! Come here sweetie, please let me introduce you my wonderful son, Cho Sang-woo!" she seemed so excited, in contrast to her son who seemed pretty serious and uncomfortable with the whole situation.

"Hey." he simply said with a low, yet neutral tone, making you realize that he was quite the opposite from his mother: she shined even in the darkest days, while he somehow brings darkness wherever he goes to. But the fact that he had such a hard personality to deal with and understand, instead of pushing you away, only made you even more curious about that mysterious man. Besides the fact that he is incredibly handsome, but that's another story.

"Hey there! I'm L/N Y/N, nice to meet you." you put your hand in front of him so you wouldn't be just standing there looking awkwardly at each other. He looked at it for a second, before taking it and shaking it gently, like he was afraid to break your way smaller hand.

"I'm so happy you finally met my son! I'm sure you two will get along just perfectly!" her joy was contagious, yet her own son didn't seem to let his mother's charm get to him. You heard her talking about her amazing son so many times, saying how he was a kind man, and extremely intelligent and responsible. Yet, here he is, looking like his life was a complete chaos.

"Yeah, I'm sure we will." you answered shyly, only for him to look at you with a surprised expression. You simply smiled at him, making him blush slightly at your cuteness.

Now you are in bed with your soulmate by your side, watching him sleep peacefully: who would have known you two would get here? Together?? You didn't know the right answer for that as well, but the truth is that life can really surprise you.

You were Sang-woo’s first love: the only person who stood with him no matter how many problems he had, both professionally and psychologically. You would never give up on him, and that's what made him realize you were the love of his life, the soulmate he was unconsciously looking for so desperately. No one would ever guessed, but one of Sang-woo’s main goals in his life is creating a family who loved and supported him until the end, to feel the happiness and comfort of waking up every day next to his significant other. However, before meeting you, his problem was that he never had the patience or motivation to find love or to continue to please his possible partner until they fell for him. No, he wanted to focus on his professional career first, the rest just being mere details. What made him fall for you, was your dedication to be with him and build a promising life by his side, supporting him and helping him whenever he needed: you were also the first and only person who he told about his fears, insecurities and feelings about certain topics, but only after a few, long months of building trust and courage. And you did the same: you considered him your best friend, because he always helped you with the most racional advices, which were the best in your opinion.

After a few minutes of analyzing lovingly every feature that you knew so well of your loved one, you noticed him moving slightly and groaning from waking up from his precious sleep.

"Good morning, tough guy." you joked, only to receive a confused expression from him just before he rolled his reddish eyes and laugh at the nickname.

"Good morning, babe." his voice was so deep that it made you have inappropriate thoughts, however you knew he was too tired for it right now. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, I actually did. As for you, I think I don't even have to ask." you laughed at his still sleepy state, before putting your legs over him and hug his long torso. He pulled you closer, closing the space that separated your hungry lips before kissing you slowly, yet with the perfect amount of passion and love.

"Yeah, I really needed to rest my mind and body from yesterday." you shyly laughed at him before hitting his arm when he reminded you from your passionate love session from the night before.

"You silly!" the moment you called him that, he rolled you over so he could be on top.

"Call me that again and see what happens." he warned you with a serious face, yet you knew him better. He was obviously messing with you, and you would be lying if you said you didn't like his demanding behavior.

"Can you join me in the shower, babe? Please?" you decided to change the subject, giving him the pleading look that you knew he couldn't resist.

"Yeah, sure." he smiled before giving you a quick kiss on the lips. "Just wait for me, I'll be right back."

"Ok, I'll wait for you." you gave him a last peck on his lips, before making your way to the bathroom, unconscious of what was coming for you.

That day your boyfriend invited you to dinner at a fancy restaurant, so you thought it would be a simple date like the many you've had before. But this time, he had promising plans for you and your future together, something you weren't expecting to happen so soon. It was already 7:30 pm, so he called you to hurry so you could be on time at the restaurant.

"I'm coming!" you warned your handsome boyfriend, before you appeared in front of him dressing your favorite date outfit that he bought you a few days ago.

"You look gorgeous, sweetheart." his eyes were full of love, admiration and pride for you, making your heart melt with happiness. You felt so loved at that moment... you still couldn't believe you were dating that man.

"Thank you, love. Let's go." you thanked him, before leaving your house and walk to get into his expensive black car.

You and Sang-woo arrived at the restaurant 15 minutes earlier, so you took your time to sit at your reserved table. The restaurant was outstanding: everyone was dressed nicely and the environment was peaceful and romantic; it was an expensive and well known restaurant from your city, which made you feel important. You also felt really happy to know that your boyfriend took you on a date at a very welcoming and beautiful place: it meant that he really loved you and makes a real effort to build up your relationship by changing your routine from time to time, which was healthy for both of you.

A few hours passed and you talked about everything and anything: your plans for your future together, funny stories that happened in your childhood that you didn't know about, how work was going and who are the people you like or dislike... it was a really nice, yet nostalgic and interesting conversation. After that, he insisted to pay your dinner. You felt bad, so he promised next time you could pay, which you knew he was lying.

When you left the restaurant, hand in hand, he told you that his plans for that night weren't done yet.

"I need you to do something for me, honey." your future husband said as soon as you entered the car. You looked at him suspiciously, waiting for whatever was coming. "Close your eyes." he simply said.

"What? Why would you-"

"Just trust me, ok? It's not like I'll kidnap you or something." he made sure to use his sarcasm to relax you a little bit, indirectly telling you that he wasn't going to do anything bad.

"I wouldn't mind if you did so." your sassy comment made him laugh quietly, before you closed your eyes and heard his car running.

Minutes passed and you were starting to get bored with having your eyes closed for so long. At least his strong grip on your inner thigh kept you entertained during the car trip. Suddenly, you felt the car stop slowly, and that's when you realized you had finally arrived at your destination. You were about to open your eyes, when you felt a smack on your thigh.

"Ah! I didn't say you could open your eyes already, did I?" his demanding tone made you internally scream and blush hard, but you needed to remain calm to not lead things to another way, since you didn't want to ruin the plans he made for you.

He helped you getting out of the car, before putting his hand on your waist to guide you to the place where he would make the big proposal.

"Open your eyes, love." he whispered into your ear. The moment you opened your eyes, tears instantly made their way to your warm cheeks: you could watch and admire each star on the sky, shining in your direction; it was full moon night, which made you think that Sang-woo chose this specific night for that reason; in front of you, you could also see and hear the calm and relaxing dark-blue sea moving at a slow and therapeutical pace. It was the most romantic moment you ever had and even imagined. You were too focus on the ocean and the brilliant stars above you, that you didn't even notice what was written on the sand: "Will you marry me, Y/N?" was written in huge and well marked letters. This made your heart beat at an incredibly fast pace and your vision to go blurry due to the emotional warm tears that wanted to escape from your eyes.

"Baby, what's all of thi-" when you turned around in hope that the man of your life would explain what was happening at that moment, even tho you knew already, you saw him kneeling instead, looking at you nervously with a small black box on his hands which contained a shining ring inside.

"L/n Y/n, I know I'm not the best lover sometimes due to my emotionless personality, however you liberate a more loving, caring and passionate side of me that I never knew I could have until I met you. I never thought I could be so in love with someone... and to be honest, I didn't even know what was love before I kissed you for the first time. I'm sorry for all the times I made you upset, but I promise I'll be a better person for you. So... will you marry me, my love?" you never saw your boyfriend being so open with his feelings, not even towards you, so you knew this was extremely hard for him and that all what he was saying was the pure truth. Also for the first time you noticed Sang-woo cry in front of you, even though he remained with a neutral facial expression.

Deep inside, you knew he feels a lot, he just used this "mask" to hide his vulnerability and pretend he is emotionless. But with you, he doesn't feel the need to pretend to be strong all the time. And that's when he realized it was you who he was going to marry and spend the rest of his life with.

You couldn't help but cry in front of him, his action caughting you by surprise, in a good sense.

"Of course my love, of course I will marry you!! There is nothing I desire more than to have you as my husband." he smiled until his cheeks started to get sore: this moment was unique and special for both of you. You always made him forget any pain he might feel. He quickly stood up and picked up into his arms, spinning you over and over again until you both felt almost dizzy.

That night was unforgettable for both of you, and now that you had a wedding ring on your finger, you couldn't think about anything else than stepping onto the altar and marry the man of your dreams.

#cho sangwoo x y/n #cho sang woo x reader #cho sangwoo #cho sangwoo x reader #cho sang woo #squid game fanfic #sangwoo squid game #squid game fic #squid game imagines #squid game x reader #squid game x y/n #squid game x you #sangwoo x reader #sangwoo x y/n #sangwoo fluff #cho sangwoo x you #squid game fluff #squid game x male reader

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eu-nicola · 4 months ago

Text

arranged marriage part 1

sinopsis: After the death of his girlfriend in an accident, Rafe falls into a severe depression. His family offers him a family friend, Arabella, with whom he has always had a bad relationship, to marry him for the good of the family.

warnings: death, arranged marriage, etc

author's note: english is not my first language and this story is very long and it is only the first part

word count: 8647

some labels are not correct

Arabella had always lived a quiet life on the Outer Banks. Her family was very close to the Camerons, and family reunions were a tradition. Since they were little, she and Sarah Cameron had become inseparable. They spent summers together, swimming, exploring the small islands around the coast, or just talking. However, Arabella's relationship with the other brother, Rafe, had always been different.

Rafe Cameron was everything Arabella hated: arrogant, conceited, and with an ego that barely fit in the room. Every time they met at a family reunion or event, their exchanges were cold and tense. They didn't openly insult each other, of course, but the looks and sarcastic comments were constant. The truth is that Rafe also saw her the same way: he thought Arabella was a haughty girl who thought the world revolved around her. Despite everything, they both knew how to behave in front of others. It was a tacit agreement, a sort of silent truce to not cause problems in their families.

Parallel to their tensions, both their lives had continued on their course. Arabella had been dating a boy from the Outer Banks, Matthew, for a year. Matthew was the complete opposite of Rafe: charming, humble, and always ready to make her laugh. He was easy to be with, and their relationship gave her the peace of mind she had always sought. For his part, Rafe had met a young woman a few years ago and, in an unexpected turn, was preparing to marry her. The wedding was the most talked about event on the island. Everyone seemed to be excited, from close families to childhood friends.

Arabella, in particular, couldn't help but joke about it with Sarah. Every time the topic of the wedding came up, she and Sarah used to laugh and say that, once Rafe got married, they could get rid of him once and for all. "Can you imagine?" Sarah said with a laugh, "we'll finally not have to put up with his 'I'm better than all of you' attitude." Arabella smirked, knowing that even though they were joking, a part of her actually believed it would be a relief to not have to deal with Rafe on a regular basis anymore. With the wedding approaching, he'd be busy with his new life, and she could enjoy her days in peace.

One afternoon, while helping Sarah pick out a dress for her brother's wedding, Arabella and Sarah sat on the store's couch, surrounded by fabrics and catalogs. Sarah showed her one of the dresses, and Arabella looked at it, nodding in approval. "It's beautiful, Sarah. You're going to be the prettiest bridesmaid I've ever seen."

"And you? Do you know what you're going to wear yet?" Sarah asked curiously, glancing at her friend out of the corner of her eye.

Arabella let out a soft laugh, crossing her legs as she settled into the couch. "I haven't decided yet, but honestly, I don't care that much. The important thing is that you'll look spectacular and that your brother is finally getting married."

Sarah smiled. "Can you imagine what it'll be like? It'll be weird not having him hanging around the house."

Arabella laughed, nodding again. "Exactly. It's like he always has to remind us that he's Rafe Cameron, as if we could ever forget." She paused, leaning forward. “Speaking of which, how is everything going with him and his fiancée? Do they have everything ready yet?”

Sarah sighed. “Mostly everything. I won’t lie to you, though, there have been tense moments. You know how my brother is. Everything has to be perfect for him, and his fiancée seems to be the same way. It’s like two perfectionists have met, which should be a good thing, but… sometimes I think they’re going crazy with the details.”

Arabella nodded, imagining Rafe being picky about every little aspect of the wedding. “I can see that. He’s probably checking every flower, every napkin, to make sure everything is up to par.”

“Exactly,” Sarah said, laughing. “But, well, it’ll be a wedding everyone will remember, for better or worse.”

The days leading up to the wedding were complete chaos. Arabella had anticipated it, but nothing could prepare her for the magnitude of the storm that was brewing. Between last-minute meetings, planning details, and the endless list of tasks Sarah had set out to complete, they were both swept up in a maelstrom of stress. Rafe, of course, was at the center of it all, making sure every aspect of the ceremony and reception was flawless. It was nearly impossible to see him without a worried or annoyed expression on his face, which, to Arabella, was a normal occurrence for him.

Despite everything, Arabella tried to stay out of the way. She reminded herself that this wasn't her wedding, and that no matter how much everything got out of hand, the best thing she could do was stay calm, help Sarah when necessary, and avoid Rafe as much as possible. But things didn't always go as planned. During the days leading up to it, she was forced to cross paths with Rafe more times than she would have liked. Every time she saw him, he was arguing with someone: an organizer, a caterer, or even his own sister.

The wedding day finally arrived, bringing with it a mix of emotions. The Cameron household was bustling early, with servants and family members running back and forth to make sure everything was ready. Arabella had slept there the night before, as part of tradition. Sarah had convinced her that it would be easier to get ready together from the Cameron household. They had both thought they would get ready with the bride, as was customary for close friends and family of the couple. However, that expectation was quickly dashed.

At the last minute, Rafe's fiancée had decided that she preferred to get ready elsewhere, alongside her mother and some members of her family. Not only that, but neither Arabella nor Sarah had been invited to join them. It was a clear sign of distancing, and although Sarah tried to hide her irritation, Arabella noticed how she clenched her jaw at the news.

Arabella, for her part, considered it disrespectful. Wasn't Sarah Rafe's sister? And hadn't she, Arabella, been by Sarah's side all these years, sharing every important moment in the Camerons' lives? She tried to ignore the small flicker of anger that was beginning to form inside her. There was no point in making a scene over something so trivial. Besides, she had Sarah, and the two of them could turn any awkward situation into something fun. If the bride didn't want them there, then they would enjoy getting ready on their own.

“Can you believe it?” Sarah said, slamming the bedroom door shut as they entered. “He didn’t even tell me directly, can you imagine?”

Arabella, sitting on the edge of the bed, shrugged. “Truth be told, I was expecting it. He doesn’t seem like the kind of person who wants to share his day with us. At the end of the day, it’s his wedding, and he can do whatever he wants.”

Sarah let out a sarcastic laugh as she sat down in front of the mirror. “Yeah, sure. But I’m his future sister-in-law. And you’re my best friend. I don’t know, he just seems… cold.”

“Well, better for us,” Arabella said, getting up to find her dress. “At least we won’t have to pretend to like his every comment and smile all the time. We’ll get ready together, like always.”

Sarah let out a sigh and looked at herself in the mirror. "You're right. But it still bothers me. Anyway, let her get ready by herself. Today's all about my brother getting married and I honestly want this all to be over with."

Arabella laughed softly, patting him on the shoulder before starting to change. The sun's rays streamed through the curtains, illuminating the room in a warm, golden light. Although they were annoyed by the bride's lack of consideration, there was something almost magical about those moments.

As they both got ready, the silence was filled with soft murmurs and occasional laughter. Sarah tried to comb her hair while talking non-stop about how chaotic everything had been, and Arabella, who had already finished getting dressed, helped her with some details. It seemed like the small frustrations of the day were being left behind.

As Arabella and Sarah got ready in the bedroom, chaos quickly took over the house. The screams and constant movement of people running through the halls soon interrupted the calm that had prevailed only a few minutes before. Arabella, who was finishing adjusting her dress in front of the mirror, frowned as she noticed the growing sense of anxiety that was beginning to fill the air.

“What’s going on?” Sarah asked, glancing out the window and then back to the door. The door to her room opened and closed frequently, but no one stopped to give them an explanation. Servants walked back and forth with tense faces, exchanging hurried whispers. The two friends began to grow restless.

Arabella stood up, smoothing out the folds of her dress as she walked to the door. “I’ll ask. This is already too weird.” Sarah nodded, following closely behind. They both stepped out into the hallway, hoping to find someone who could tell them what was going on. But every time they tried to stop someone, the employees avoided their gaze, mumbled apologies, and walked on, as if they were under strict orders not to say anything.

Nerves began to set in at Arabella’s stomach. The laughter and conversation that should be filling the house on a wedding day had turned into tense whispers and palpable nervousness. They tried to approach various people, but the answers were always vague, almost as if no one knew what to say or how to handle the situation.

Sarah, for her part, was starting to lose patience. “Is someone going to tell us what’s going on?!” she exclaimed, glaring at one of the servants who hurried past without stopping.

Their frustration grew by the second. Finally, they decided to try something more daring: approach Rafe’s room. They knew he must be getting ready there, and although they didn’t feel like facing him in the middle of a possible disaster, they couldn’t stand to be in the dark any longer.

The atmosphere around Rafe’s room was even stranger. The door was closed, but people passing by avoided looking at it as if they feared what was happening inside. Arabella and Sarah stopped in front of it, exchanging glances. Sarah, frowning, took a step towards the door, but before she could knock, a muffled scream came from someone behind them.

“No! Don’t go in there,” one of the women working in the house said, quickly approaching with a look of pure panic on her face.

Arabella crossed her arms, facing the woman with a mix of confusion and impatience. “What’s going on? No one’s telling us anything.”

The woman hesitated, nervously glancing at Rafe’s bedroom door before looking down. She seemed to be torn between what she should do and what she was supposed to keep secret.

“It’s… it’s the bride,” she finally murmured, her voice shaking. “She… she had an accident. On the way to church.”

Arabella’s world stopped for a second. Her brain was slow to process what she had just heard. Beside her, Sarah let out a soft gasp, her face paling.

“An accident?” Arabella repeated, trying to understand. “Is… is she okay?”

The woman looked down even further, unable to hold her eyes. “No… he didn’t survive,” she whispered.

The silence that followed was deafening. Arabella felt the room around her seem to fade away, her mind caught up in the brutality of that simple sentence. Rafe’s girlfriend, the woman he was set to marry in a matter of hours, was dead. There was no softening that reality. Arabella slowly turned her head to Sarah, who had stood frozen, her eyes filled with shock and horror.

“What…?” Sarah stammered, bringing a shaking hand to her mouth. “How… how did it happen?”

The woman, clearly uncomfortable and distraught, tried to explain. “It… it was a car accident. The car he was in lost control. He died instantly, we were told.”

Rafe’s life, as arrogant as he was, had just changed forever.

Before they could fully process what they had just heard, the silence of the hallway was suddenly broken by a crash coming from Rafe’s room. Both friends turned sharply toward the door, their hearts pounding.

The noise continued: something heavy had fallen, followed by a thud, and then more sounds of things breaking. It seemed like everything inside the room was falling apart. Arabella and Sarah exchanged a panicked glance, and in that instant they knew Rafe had heard.

"No," Sarah whispered, bringing a hand to her chest as she took a step toward the door, as if she wanted to enter.

Arabella grabbed her arm, stopping her. "Don't go in," she said quietly. She knew the last thing Rafe needed right now was for someone to see him in the midst of his pain.

The noises inside the room continued: more glass breaking, furniture being dragged or overturned, and the occasional muffled scream that could barely be heard. It was as if everything Rafe had held in for days, weeks, or maybe even years was finally coming out in the worst possible way. Arabella could imagine him throwing objects at the walls, taking out his fury, his pain, and his helplessness on anything that could be broken.

Arabella nodded slowly. She knew that the day they had joked about “getting rid of Rafe” once she was married seemed far away now. All that was left was unimaginable tragedy.

The day of the funeral arrived with a heavy, oppressive air enveloping the Cameron household like a suffocating blanket. From the moment the news of Rafe's fiancée's death had hit their lives, the atmosphere in the house had changed. Everyone, from the servants to the family members themselves, walked with a caution that had not been seen before. Arabella had hoped that the funeral would be the moment when, finally, everyone could begin to process what had happened. However, that day only brought more bewilderment.

At breakfast, Ward Cameron had summoned the entire family into the dining room. It was a strange scene: the sun shone softly through the windows, illuminating the table covered with plates of food that no one had any intention of touching. Arabella sat next to Sarah, both silent, waiting for Ward's words, who remained standing at the end of the table, a stern expression on his face.

When he finally spoke, his tone was cold and authoritative. “No one from this family will be attending the funeral,” he announced, his voice cutting through the air like a knife.

Arabella blinked, shocked by what she had just heard. She glanced sideways at Sarah, expecting her friend to protest, but she was motionless, her gaze fixed on her plate, her hands clenched in her lap. There were no murmurs of disagreement, no attempts to debate the decision. The silence was absolute.

Ward continued, as if he had not expected anyone to question him. “It is a tragedy what has happened, but it is not wise for us to be there. The family of… the deceased,” he said, pausing before mentioning Rafe’s fiancée, as if he could not bear to say her name, “can handle the funeral. We need not involve ourselves further in this matter.”

Arabella felt a wave of disbelief run through her body. How could she say such a thing? Her son’s fiancée had died tragically, and now they intended to simply ignore the funeral. It was inhuman. Yet the coldness with which Ward spoke made it clear that he was not willing to argue. To him, this was a matter of convenience, of avoiding further unwanted attention.

“This includes Arabella,” Ward added, giving her a brief but firm look. “You are part of our family and on this occasion, it is best that you follow our decision.”

Arabella felt a pang in her chest, but said nothing. This was not the time to challenge Ward’s authority, not when everyone was so tense.

Sarah, who had remained silent until this moment, finally spoke, though her voice was barely a whisper. “And Rafe?” she asked, her eyes lowered, as if she could not bear the answer.

Ward set his jaw. “Rafe won’t be attending. He’s not fit.” The way he said it made it clear that Rafe’s “condition” wasn’t something he was proud of.

Arabella knew what that meant. From the moment he’d learned of his fiancée’s death, Rafe had disappeared into a self-destructive cycle. Empty bottles piled up in his room, and servants whispered that they’d seen him with bloodshot eyes, walking the halls like a ghost. He was doing everything he could to avoid the pain, drowning himself in drink and other things to escape reality. He hadn’t bothered to see anyone or face what had happened. The funeral, of course, wasn’t an option for him. Not when his only concern was evading everything that made him feel vulnerable.

The weeks following the funeral were like a minefield in the lives of everyone around Rafe. There was no talk of the accident, or of Rafe’s fiancée. It was as if his name had been erased from everyone's memory. However, the absence of words did not mean that the pain had disappeared.

Arabella watched everything with a mixture of uneasiness and curiosity. She had grown accustomed to the rhythms of the Cameron family, to their coldness and the way they solved their problems without ever talking about them, but this time, the pressure was different. Something in the air indicated that, although Rafe had begun to get his life back on track, something had broken inside him that would never be the same again.

At first, Rafe had disappeared completely. He did not come down to meals, he was not seen at family gatherings, and the few times Arabella saw him around the house, he would stare blankly, walking like a shadow of the arrogant man she knew. But little by little, that changed. The nights when he would lock himself in his room with bottles of whiskey began to diminish, and, slowly, he began to appear again at social gatherings, resuming his place as the Prince Kook of always.

The first few days Rafe went out with his friends again, Arabella felt a kind of relief. She would watch him walk around the house with that same confidence that had always characterized him, his face unwavering as if nothing could disturb him. It was almost as if the tragedy had never happened. On the surface, Rafe was the same: the Camerons' golden son, the man who could have it all. He was seen with his old friends at clubs, sailing along the coast in his boat, and organizing parties that brought the hustle and bustle back to the quiet Outer Banks neighborhood.

But everyone knew that something in him had changed.

Sarah, who used to be the first to joke about her brother, now kept quiet when he was around. Sometimes, when Rafe walked past her and Arabella with his confident smile and sarcastic remarks, Sarah would just glance at him out of the corner of her eye, as if she expected the old Rafe, the one who laughed carefree at everything, to return at any moment. However, the silence that followed his words was almost unbearable, as if everyone knew that behind that mask of confidence there was something broken that had not yet healed.

One night, while Arabella and Sarah were in the living room of the Cameron house, Rafe walked in, fresh from one of his outings with the boys. His white shirt was open at the collar, and he smelled of alcohol and tobacco. However, his posture was as impeccable as ever.

"What, you're not going to say anything? Did you miss me?" Rafe threw the question into the air, with a lopsided smile that didn't reach his eyes. Sarah faked a laugh as Arabella watched him intently, noticing the details no one else saw: the slight tremor in his hands, the dull gleam in his eyes.

"You were quieter the last time I saw you," Arabella commented in a neutral tone, trying to test the waters. She knew that any comment that was too direct could be a bombshell for Rafe in this state.

He let out a short, hollow laugh, shrugging as he took a drink from the nearby cabinet. "Quiet? No, I was just... thinking about other things."

The weeks continued and Rafe was completely back to his usual routine. He began training and spending time with his friends. He seemed to have regained his place as the charismatic leader everyone admired and feared at the same time.

While to many everything seemed to be back to normal, in Ward's mind, the situation couldn't be further from that. The dream of seeing his son married, establishing a life of success and responsibility, was something he wasn't willing to give up, even after the tragedy. He knew that in order to maintain the Camerons' position at the top, Rafe needed to have a suitable wife at his side. The death of his young fiancée had only been a temporary obstacle in that plan.

Ward watched his son with a frown, aware that Rafe had returned to his old life, but without the purpose he believed necessary. Going out every night, surrounding himself with superficial friends, and getting drunk were not behaviors worthy of a Cameron with the responsibilities that corresponded to him. No, Rafe had to leave that life behind, and as soon as possible.

For several weeks, Ward had been looking around, evaluating options. The Camerons' social circle was extensive, but he couldn't just choose any woman. No, whoever married Rafe had to be someone suitable, someone who could not only handle his son's complex personality, but also bring respect and stability with her. But, as much as he searched among the young women of high society, he couldn't help but return to an idea that slowly began to grow in his mind.

Arabella.

He had known her forever, just like his family. She was someone he could trust. A strong, loyal young woman, and above all, someone who was already close to Rafe. Although their relationship had been strained over the years, Ward couldn't ignore that, of all the people in his environment, Arabella was the only one who had always been there, even in the darkest times. Perhaps, Ward thought, she could be the key to getting Rafe out of the abyss he was in, even if he didn't know it yet.

One night, as Ward was going through some paperwork in his office, that idea finally took shape. He closed the folder in front of him and leaned back in his chair, pondering what he had to do. He knew Rafe wouldn't take the suggestion well, not in his current state, but that had never stopped Ward before. It was his duty, as a father, to guide his son, even if Rafe didn't understand it.

Convinced that Arabella would be the ideal wife for Rafe, Ward decided to act. The next morning, he called Rose into his office and explained his plan. Rose, though initially surprised, didn't argue. She knew how her husband's mind worked and had learned not to question his decisions, especially when it came to Rafe.

"What about Arabella?" Rose asked, one eyebrow raised. "Don't you think she should have some say in the matter?"

Ward let out a dry laugh. "Arabella is a smart girl. She knows what's best for her family. And this is best for everyone."

Rose didn't answer, but a hint of doubt crossed her face. However, she left the subject up to her husband.

It was a few days before Ward decided to bring up the idea with Rafe. It wasn't an easy subject to broach, and his son was still dealing with the weight of loss, though he tried to disguise it behind his cocky smiles and carefree demeanor. He knew he would have to pick the right time.

The day came on a quiet afternoon. Rafe was in his father's office, going through some paperwork related to the family business, when Ward seized the opportunity. He looked at him from his desk, analyzing his expression, searching for a sign of an opening.

"Son," Ward began in his usual authoritative tone, "it's time for you to think about the future."

Rafe didn't look up from the papers. "What do you mean?" His voice was casual, but Ward noticed the tension in his shoulders.

"You know what I mean. We've talked about it before. You need stability. It's time for you to get married."

Rafe set the papers down on the table, his cold, disinterested eyes meeting his father's. "I thought that subject was closed. You know what happened."

Ward didn't flinch. "What happened was tragic, but it doesn't change the fact that you need a wife. Someone to help you build your life, settle down."

Rafe let out a bitter laugh, leaning back in his chair. “And who am I supposed to find now? Another girl who is willing to put up with me? I don’t think so.”

“I’ve already thought about that,” Ward said firmly, ignoring his son’s sarcastic tone. “And I think the answer has been in front of us all along.”

Rafe frowned, visibly irritated. “What are you talking about?”

“Arabella,” Ward said finally, dropping the bombshell.

Rafe fell silent, his face turning from confusion to disbelief. “Arabella? Are you kidding? Why her?”

Ward kept his gaze fixed on his son, his voice calm but full of authority. “Because she is a good young woman. She is trustworthy, we have known her forever, and she would be a good wife for you. It is not an absurd proposition, Rafe. It makes sense.”

Rafe stood up from his chair, his movements abrupt, visibly angry. "No, there's no point. I haven't even thought about getting married again, let alone to Arabella. I'm not going to."

"You will if it's what's best for the family," Ward replied coldly. "And this is what's best for you too, even if you don't see it now."

Rafe glared at him with fury in his eyes, but he knew arguing with his father was pointless. Ward always got what he wanted, one way or another. But this time, Rafe wasn't going to give in so easily.

Without another word, he walked out of the office, leaving Ward alone, pondering what had just happened. He knew his son wouldn't accept him right away, but he didn't need him to. As always, Ward had a plan. And sooner or later, Rafe would understand that Arabella was the right choice.

However, Arabella had no idea what was to come.

Arabella was in the living room with Sarah, laughing at one of the Kooks' absurd stories when Ward suddenly appeared in the doorway. His face was serious in a way that didn't go unnoticed by either of them, and Arabella felt the air grow heavy. Sarah, who knew that expression on her father all too well, fell silent.

"Arabella, can you come to my office? I need to talk to you in private," Ward said in his usual tone, one that left no room for questions.

Arabella exchanged a glance with Sarah, who gave her a small nod of support before she stood up from the chair. Although it seemed strange to her, there was no reason to hesitate, so she followed him. As she walked through the halls towards the office, a slight nervousness settled in her chest.

When she reached the office, the door was already ajar. Ward entered first and Arabella followed, but what she didn't expect was to see Rafe sitting in one of the chairs, arms crossed and a tense expression on his face. The atmosphere was thick, and she immediately knew that this was not just any conversation. Something was wrong.

Arabella frowned and, despite her discomfort, walked over to the free chair. She sat down stiffly, looking from Ward to Rafe, waiting for some explanation. The silence in the room was almost oppressive, until Ward decided to speak.

"I've been thinking a lot about your future, Arabella," Ward began, his tone trying to sound understanding. "And I think that, after everything that's happened, it's time for Rafe to move on. And since you both need stability, I think there's a solution that will be beneficial for everyone."

Arabella looked at him in confusion, her brain slowly processing his words. "What... what do you mean by that?" she asked, unsure of where he was going with this.

Ward paused, as if trying to find the right words, though his tone remained firm. "I think it would be best for both of you to get married."

Arabella froze. She looked at Rafe, expecting to see a reaction of surprise or disagreement, but he just watched her with a distant expression. She looked back at Ward, expecting there to be some misunderstanding. "I don't understand..." she stammered, trying to clarify what she had just heard. "Marry Rafe? That doesn't make sense."

Ward, ever calm, folded his hands on his desk. "It makes perfect sense. With his fiancée dead, and your family starting to look for a husband for you, Rafe is the best choice. You already know each other, your parents trust our family, and this would ensure the stability you both need."

"No, this can't be!" Arabella stood up from her seat, her heart pounding. "I don't want to marry Rafe. This doesn't make sense. We're not... we don't get along!" She looked at Rafe for some sign of support, but he just watched her silently, his dark eyes reflecting resignation.

Rafe finally spoke, his voice low but laden with a strange mix of resignation and mockery. “Don’t resist, Arabella. There’s no escape for any of us.”

Arabella stared at him in disbelief. “What are you talking about? This doesn’t have to happen. I don’t… I don’t want this, Rafe. It doesn’t make any sense.”

Ward slowly rose from his seat and walked around his desk, approaching Arabella with calculated steps. “I understand that you’re shocked, but believe me, it’s what’s best for you. Your family is already starting to look for a good match for you, and what I’m offering is the best option. You won’t have to marry a stranger, you won’t have to fear for your future. Rafe will be a good husband for you.”

Arabella took a step back, shaking her head, fear and frustration invading every fiber of her being. “No, Ward. I can’t do this. I don’t want to.”

Ward looked at her with a mix of patience and determination. "I know you think you can run away from this situation, but you can't. Your family is already considering alternatives, and if you don't accept, there will be other decisions you won't like. This is for the best, Arabella. For you, for Rafe, for our families."

Arabella's mind raced, trying to find a way out. But every word Ward said caged her further in. She knew she didn't have much choice. If her family was already involved in the arrangements, she wouldn't have much room to maneuver. And Ward... Ward wasn't a man to take 'no' for an answer.

She took a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. Frustration, fear, and despair washed over her, but deep down she knew there was no way out. This was the reality she was in, and she couldn't change it.

After the conversation with Ward and Rafe, the tension between him and Arabella had grown almost unbearable. They could barely be in the same room without feeling an overwhelming pressure in the air. Before, even though they didn't get along, they could at least maintain a polite conversation, but now not even that. Arabella avoided any encounter with him, aware that she was trapped in a situation from which there was no escape. The very idea of marrying Rafe, of sharing a life together, was overwhelming, almost claustrophobic.

Every time she thought about the wedding, she felt a mixture of frustration and resignation. Sarah, however, seemed to be delighted with the idea of organizing the event. She was more than willing to take care of every detail, from the flowers to the dress. Sarah tried to cheer Arabella up, but even with her enthusiasm, it was clear that her friend knew that things were not right.

One afternoon, as the sun filtered through the windows of Arabella's room, Sarah entered without knocking, as she always did, and found her sitting on the edge of the bed, staring into a corner of the room. Arabella's expression was blank, as if she were trapped in her own thoughts, absent from the world around her.

"Hey, Bells," Sarah said softly, closing the door behind her. "How are you feeling?"

Arabella looked up and forced a smile, but Sarah knew her too well to believe that gesture. She sat down beside her on the bed, taking Arabella's hand lovingly.

"You know you don't have to pretend with me," Sarah continued. "I know this isn't what you want."

Arabella sighed deeply, letting out all the air she had been holding. She knew Sarah wouldn't judge her, that she could speak to her with complete honesty. "I don't want to marry him, Sarah," she admitted, her voice breaking. "I never wanted this. And now... I'm trapped. I have no choice."

Sarah squeezed her hand, as if with that gesture she could transfer some of her strength to her. "I know. This isn't fair."

Arabella lowered her head, her eyes beginning to fill with tears that she struggled to hold back. "It's just... even the thought of having kids with him terrifies me. I don't see myself building a family with Rafe. I don't see myself sharing my life like that. This whole thing... is a nightmare."

Sarah looked at her, feeling her friend's anguish as if it were her own. "Bells, I'm here with you. Always. No matter what happens, you're not going to face this alone."

Arabella smiled weakly, grateful for Sarah's words, though the fear was still present. "Thank you, Sar. You're the only reason I haven't gone crazy over all of this yet."

Sarah gave her a small push on the shoulder, trying to ease the tension of the moment. "Hey, you can't tell me that planning a wedding with me doesn't have its fun side, right?"

Arabella laughed through her tears. "Yeah, right, 'fun' is exactly the word I would use to describe this."

Sarah smiled back, though she knew there was little she could do to ease the weight her friend was carrying. "This is all bullshit, I'm not going to lie to you. But no matter what happens, I'll be with you every step of the way. And if you need to run away, I'll help you escape. I know a guy who has a boat."

Arabella laughed, louder this time, imagining the absurd scene Sarah was describing. "It's good to know you have an escape plan ready."

Sarah's humor always managed to calm her down a bit.

Sarah, despite her unconditional support, felt the frustration of not being able to do more. She wanted to free Arabella from this situation, but she also knew that her family, her father in particular, was an impossible obstacle to overcome. So, as the wedding progressed, the only thing she could offer was her company, her loyalty, and a firm hand in the darkest moments.

It wasn't long before the wedding planning was set in motion. The Cameron machinery, with its unlimited power and resources, made everything happen surprisingly quickly. Arabella watched with resignation as the planning took shape almost overnight. Dozens of people were involved, each responsible for a specific detail: the flowers, the music, the decorations. Everything was being managed with surgical precision, as if the fact that she and Rafe could barely stand each other was irrelevant.

Chaos reigned in the house. Employees were running around, phones were ringing off the hook, and vendors were constantly visiting. Arabella couldn't believe how everyone seemed to be so excited about a wedding that, for her, represented the end of any hope of controlling her own destiny.

However, in the midst of the chaos, a problem arose unexpectedly: the family of Rafe's ex-fiancée showed up, outraged by how quickly the Camerons had decided to go ahead. It couldn't be any other way, Arabella thought. The news that Rafe was getting married again had reached them, and it hadn't gone down well with them.

One morning, as Arabella sat in the kitchen drinking tea, she heard the commotion from the hall. The angry voices of the ex-fiancée's parents filled the house, and through the half-open door she could hear the dead girl's mother accusing Ward and the entire Cameron family of being insensitive and heartless. "It's disrespectful to our daughter's memory!" the woman screamed, her eyes filled with tears. "It's barely been a while since she died, and you're already planning another wedding as if it meant nothing to you!"

Arabella felt a knot in her stomach as she listened. She couldn't help but feel bad for them. Although she hadn't been close to Rafe's ex-fiancée, she knew that the young woman had been loved by her family. And now, here they were, protesting what they felt was a betrayal.

Ward, for his part, showed not a hint of remorse. With his usual coldness, he assured them that this was all for the best for both families, and that there was nothing they could do to change it. "We deeply regret your loss," he said in a calculated, distant tone, "but life goes on. Rafe needs a wife, and this wedding is the solution."

The ex-fiancée's parents were not intimidated. “This is disgusting! There hasn’t even been enough time to grieve properly! And you’re already pushing your son into another wedding!”

Arabella felt the awkwardness building, but Ward seemed to have it all under control. That’s when he made his masterstroke. He offered them a considerable sum of money, with the promise that they would never speak of it again. Silence fell over the room as the ex-fiancée’s parents stared at Ward, stunned. But money solved everything in their world, and little by little, the family’s resistance crumbled. After one last hate-filled look, they left, accepting the implicit deal Ward had offered them.

Arabella, from the kitchen, watched silently as Ward waved them off without blinking. The contrast between his sincere grief and Ward’s icy pragmatism left her even more empty. She knew that at that moment, any chance of her wedding being delayed or even cancelled was gone. Everything was already underway, and no one—not even the deceased's family—could stop it.

When it was all over, Ward returned to the living room with a calm that bordered on the eerie. As if nothing had happened, he met with some of the organizers to discuss last-minute details, completely ignoring the spectacle that had just taken place.

Arabella slowly got up from the table and left the kitchen, trying not to think too much about what she had just witnessed. She knew that in the Cameron world, feelings always took second place to appearances and power.

The wedding day arrived quicker than Arabella could have imagined. Every step in the organization had passed like a whirlwind, and despite her inner resistance, everything had come together with astonishing precision. The Cameron home was decorated in dazzling fashion, as if the event were a celebration fit for royalty. White flowers hung in every corner, chandeliers sparkled, and the golden light of dusk filtered through the windows, adding an almost ethereal glow to the scene.

Arabella was in her room, surrounded by bridesmaids and stylists, as she prepared for the most important day of her life—or at least, the most forced. Sarah was by her side, adjusting the last details of the dress and making sure her friend didn’t fall apart before the ceremony.

Arabella’s dress was something everyone would talk about. The dress was made of a sheer, almost second-skin-like fabric that hinted at more than it covered, though the lace details gave it an air of elegance, both delicate and sensual. Each thread of lace had been strategically placed to create the illusion that the fabric was gliding smoothly over her figure, covering just enough but still revealing the shape of her body in a subtle way. The plunging neckline at the back and the embroidered details on the long sleeves made the dress sophisticated, yet bold.

The skirt flared slightly as it went down, lending an air of grace to her every move. But the real center of attention was the veil. Long and airy, the veil almost floated behind her, like a cloud of lace that seemed to have no end. It fell from a simple silver tiara that held her hair in loose waves, giving her an angelic appearance, but in her mind, it didn't feel that way at all.

Arabella looked at herself in the mirror, and for a moment she didn't recognize herself. The woman staring back at her was everything the world expected of her: perfect, beautiful, untouchable. But beneath that facade, all she felt was a mix of anguish and resignation. The dress might be the most stunning one she had ever worn, but she couldn't enjoy it knowing what it represented.

"You look gorgeous, Bells," Sarah said, trying to cheer her up as she finished adjusting the veil. "I know it's not what you want most, but at least, today you'll be the most beautiful bride of all."

Arabella gave her a weak smile in gratitude. She knew Sarah was trying to do her best in such a difficult situation, but that didn't ease the weight she felt in her chest. "Thank you, Sar. I really don't know what I would do without you."

The bustle outside intensified as the guests arrived. The murmurs, the sound of musicians tuning their instruments, all blended together in a distant echo as Arabella tried to focus on the present. She knew Rafe was somewhere in the house, probably getting ready as well, though she had no idea how he felt.

As she was being helped into her veil, she heard the door open behind her. Her father entered, dressed impeccably for the occasion. He looked at her with tacit approval in his gaze, as if she were a masterpiece he had created and was now displaying to the world. "You look perfect, daughter. I couldn't have imagined a better match for Rafe."

She swallowed hard, unable to find the words to respond. She didn't want to be the "perfect match," but she knew protesting at that moment wouldn't change anything.

"It's time for us to go downstairs," her father said, offering his arm to walk her to the ceremony site. Arabella took a deep breath and took his arm, feeling like she was giving up a part of herself with every step she took toward the wedding.

The garden where the ceremony would take place was a spectacle in itself. White flowers adorned the entrance arches, and the guests were seated in perfectly aligned rows, all waiting to see the bride. The sun was beginning to set, lighting up the sky with golden and pink hues, adding an almost magical touch to the setting.

In the distance, Arabella saw Rafe waiting for her at the altar, with his usual serious and impenetrable expression. Dressed in an elegant black suit. There was no emotion on his face, as if he were fulfilling one more task, another obligation imposed by his father and by the world around them.

With each step she took towards him, Arabella felt the distance between them grow, not physically, but emotionally. They were both on the verge of joining their lives, but they had never been further from each other. When she finally reached the altar, Rafe offered her his hand without saying a word, and the silence between them was more eloquent than any promise they could exchange.

The ceremony was brief. Arabella could barely process what was happening as the priest spoke the words, whispering the promises she and Rafe were to exchange. Their voices were barely audible, a distant echo amidst the murmur of the crowd. It all felt unreal, as if she were watching her own wedding from outside her body. The cold ring Rafe slipped onto her finger was the only tangible thing amidst the fog clouding her thoughts.

Once the vows were concluded, the guests stood up, applauding with a mix of enthusiasm and protocol, celebrating the union. Fake smiles and gestures were what they had expected of her, and though her stomach was churning, she reciprocated with weak smiles.

The transition to dinner and the party was almost immediate. The organizers moved with precision, guiding the guests towards the large tent decorated with lights and flowers, where the tables were impeccably set. Arabella and Rafe were led to the main table, seated like a royal couple under the watchful gaze of all the attendees. Rafe was at her side, but there was no contact, not even a word. All between them was silence and distance.

The dinner passed in the blink of an eye. Waiters paraded around with carefully prepared dishes, and champagne glasses were raised again and again in endless toasts. Arabella tried to keep her composure, but with each toast, she felt the tension in her chest grow. She knew what was coming next. The dance.

When the time came, the music began to play softly and the lights dimmed. Arabella felt her body tense as Rafe took her by the waist, his cold hands on her body.

The music started, and the two of them moved gracefully, but without a hint of connection. Arabella followed the steps as if it were a memorized choreography, feeling the pressure of each guest's gaze. She knew that everyone present was paying attention to them. Rafe's touch on her skin did not provoke the typical nervousness of a bride at her wedding, but a mixture of resentment and despair.

When the dance finally ended, applause filled the room. Arabella let out a sigh of relief. At least that part was over. But what came next weighed even more on her mind: the wedding night. She couldn't stop thinking about what awaited her at the end of the night, and although she tried to convince herself that everything would pass quickly, fear and uncertainty consumed her.

The party continued, but Arabella barely participated. She smiled when she should have, exchanged a few words with the guests, and accepted compliments about her dress and the beauty of the ceremony, but every minute that passed brought her closer to the inevitable.

Finally, the night came to an end. The guests began to leave, and the Cameron house fell back into a sort of calm after the bustle. Arabella and Rafe were escorted to their new room, a luxuriously decorated suite within the Cameron family home. Everything was perfect in the eyes of others, but to her, the silence of that room felt like a prison.

Arabella sat on the edge of the bed, her dress still clinging to her body, feeling the weight of the moment. She was alone with Rafe, and although they had been cold to each other for weeks, the intimacy that being in that room entailed made her feel even more vulnerable.

Rafe stood near the window, looking out. The silence between them was awkward, but Arabella was too nervous to break it. Finally, it was he who spoke, his voice low and sharp.

“I’m not going to touch you, Arabella,” he said without looking at her.

The words hit her with an unexpected harshness. Arabella felt her body tense, her hands tightening on the edge of the bed. It wasn’t what she had expected to hear, but at the same time, it wasn’t a surprise either. Part of her should have been relieved by Rafe’s confession, by the idea of not having to endure this forced intimacy. But instead of relief, what she felt was something far more painful: rejection.

“I don’t want to make this any harder than it already is. But don’t flatter yourself. This is what it is. A farce,” Rafe continued, his voice laced with contempt.

Arabella swallowed, trying not to show how bad those words made her feel. She was supposed to feel happy that she didn't have to endure a wedding night with a man she didn't want, but instead, Rafe's contempt cut right through her. There was something in his tone, in the way he looked at her, that made her feel small, unwanted. For a moment, she wished he had ignored her instead of attacking her so coldly.

Without another word, Rafe left the room, slamming the door shut. Arabella was left alone, sitting on the bed, surrounded by the opulence of the room she now shared with him. The moon shone faintly through the curtains, and the silence grew heavier.

She was supposed to feel relieved, but the opposite was true. She felt an immense emptiness, a loneliness that enveloped her completely. Tears began to fill her eyes, but she refused to cry. This was not the time to show weakness, even though every part of her felt broken.

Arabella slowly stood up, carefully removing her dress, letting it fall to the floor in a heap of lace and silk. She sat on the bed, hugging herself as the chill of the room took over her body. This was not the life she had imagined, and though she had never wanted to be married to Rafe, the feeling of being rejected in such a brutal way hurt her deeply.

#fanfic #oneshot #imagine #x reader #rafe cameron #rafe fanfiction #rafe imagine #drew starkey #obx #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x reader

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sizzlingchaosprince · 11 months ago

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The Toy's favorite Child

Notes: This is the first time I'm doing such thing so I'm really nervous XD I didn't know what to put into the background of the drawing so I didn't put any. Maybe I'll edit it soon. Do forgive me for my shading, I'm still learning(trying to)

Synopsis: After starting to live in PlayCare, one creature you became friends with grew a liking to you...

Warning: PLATONIC, headcanon + little story, reader is 12-14 years old, reader is a chill teenager

It's been a year since you got into the PlayCare, passing through the security with laid-back face and leaving the staff confused. They kept you because you seemed useful for them...

You were quite chilly and relaxed, reserved and smart. Also, because of your personality you were almost the same with Cat Nap from cartoons. Maybe that's why you became quick friends with Smiling Critters. With most of them, at least...

The big purple cat was almost never appearing like others from his party. And this interested you.

After a week or so you finally met him face-to-face. You were as calm as always, but your heart was pounding from excitement. You said 'hi' for politeness and introduced yourself, waiting for him to do the same.

Guess what? His face didn't even shift. He continued staring at you with his dead eyes.

After understanding that you won't get an answer from him, you tried to talk about something else.

But he disappeared in blink of an eye.

You were quite disappointed, but you still had the same urge to get to know the living toy better. You knew it'll be a long while...

It was worth 3 months to make him sit and listen to your rambling for 10 minutes. It was worth more months to make him spend at least an hour with you. It took even longer for him to let you stay near him and sleep, leaning onto the puppet. But it was worth the pleasure you get from his warmth and company.

Even though you never heard him talk, it's enough for you to be near him. It's good to talk about any nonsense which randomly comes to your mind and have a listener who won't judge you. It's also good to take a great nap in his fur or stay in complete silence, thinking of your own thing.

The staff, of course, sooner found out the relationship between you and the purple cat puppet.

They tried to use you to their own benefits and new information, but instead you composed some lies which sounded like truth to tell them(Cat Nap helped you a little sometimes, nodding or shaking his head if the lie sounds truthful or not).

When the scientists were starting thinking about taking you for the test next, Cat Nap started to monitor you to make sure you won't end up in the Game Station.

It definitely wasn't him who knocked out the staff members right behind your back. It definitely wasn't him who let out some scratching noises in Home-Sweet-Home. Also, of course, it definitely wasn't his sharp gaze you felt on your gut 24/7.

You liked to use the hair brush on the purple furball. It doesn't move away so you can say that he's at least neutral to your activity(we don't talk about his really quiet purring).

[Now. The small story]

It was a normal day like any other one. More specifically, night. However, this week was quiet strange: the staff members of Playtime Co. except the workers from the PlayCare appeared more often in front of you. When they started talking about 'test', they randomly passed out because of the red smoke. You knew it was one of the Smiling Critters you were hanging out with for a while, but you didn't know why was he doing it.

You were currently sitting with your back leaning against the living cat plush, brushing your companion's tail you gently patted with your free second hand. The only thing that bothered you in that peaceful time was the fact that the purple cat wasn't purring at all. It was staring at you with its dark eyes. Sooner after, you finally asked him about this:

— Is something wrong, Cat Nap?

It didn't answer. Instead, the living toy just stared at you with expressionless eyes, not moving an inch. You weren't intimidated by the stare at all, so you just continued brushing the long tail. You weren't hoping for an answer anyway, but still a small, almost impossible dream was remaining in your heart.

The silence was broken by the raspy, low voice coming out from Cat Nap's voice box.

— The Prototype... Will Save Us.

You flinched.

Wow...

This is the first time he ever said something to you. It was surely a progress for your friendship.

You stared at him with wide eyes for a moment before shifting your attention back to the tail. You shrugged with your shoulders, your face had a relaxed smile.

— I don't know who the Prototype is, but if they helped you somehow, I think they're my saviour too. You're like a home to me.. I can't even imagine what would it be like living without you here!

You chuckled, patting the fluffy tail while Cat Nap looked at you with the same stare. However, something in his eyes changed... Maybe his gaze gained a little more... softness?

He stared at you until you fell asleep on him again. A few minutes of him sinking into his thoughts have passed, the toy putted his head on his paws, wrapping his tail around you like a blanket and soon enough closing his eyes. You would call it the same night-time scenario with Cat Nap in the next morning, because you didn't know that he was comfortably purring, nuzzling himself into your warmth last night...

Notes: OH MY GOD I DID IT :D I'll maybe do part 2, but without promises

Anyways, thank you for wasting your time reading my first-ever-made English fanfic. Do write me some comments about my errors if you find any, I will appreciate it since it'll improve my writing skills.

Have a nice day/evening/night!😘

#poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime #poppy playtime 3 #cat nap #cat nap x reader #platonic #child!reader #fluff #own work #own drawing #first post

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lady-djarin · 5 months ago

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home

joel miller x f!reader (one shot)

warnings/tags: sickening fluff, established relationship, no outbreak, sarah’s alive and well, some touching and kissing between reader and joel, still adult content but no p in v. mdni

word count: 2.6k

a/n: not edited much (that’s my motto) but i just kinda dumped this out in one go so it could be bad. who knows.

* ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“Dad!”

Ever since Sarah entered middle school she has become quite loud.

“Dad, there you are,” she barreled into the living room where you and Joel sat on the couch. “I need you to sign this.”

She pushes a piece of paper into his face along with a pen. He quints at it to read the small print. You grab it out of his hands when he tries to locate his glasses that are nowhere in sight.

“Oh the dance! How fun,” you handed it back to him and made sure he signed it as you shot Sarah a wink as she bounced happily on her toes.

You have been dating the single dad for around six months and you have grown quite close with Sarah. Joel has expressed how nervous he is about his baby girl getting older and all the things that come along with it. More than anything else he hates the idea of her dating. He signs the paper with his usual grumpy frown but does it nonetheless and in turn Sarah squeals and jumps up and down in excitement.

“Can you take me shopping tomorrow, I only have a week to shop for a dress,” Sarah put on her best puppy dog face that usually works on her father.

“I’m sorry angel I’ve got a job tomorrow,” he did look genuinely upset that he couldn’t spend the time with his daughter.

“I’ll take you, we can have a girls day,” you had been wanting to spend some one on one time with Sarah and this was the perfect opportunity.

“Oh my god, thank you!” She squealed again and jumped on you and wrapped you in a tight hug. She ran up the stairs talking mostly to herself about what kind of dress and makeup she was planning for her first dance.

“Thank you darlin’, you didn’t have to do that.” He rubbed your leg with his large warm hand and the other came up to hold your face as he kissed you tenderly.

“Oh please, I love that kid. Plus, I don’t think shopping is your forte,” you both laughed at how true that was.

Even though you’ve only been seeing Joel for a few months, you have never felt so at home. He and Sarah have welcomed you in like you were always meant to fit in their little family. You knew you were never one to have kids of your own but the young girl makes you feel more maternal than you ever have in your life.

You and Sarah spend the day in the mall finding stores to invade and try on every dress possible. She finally settled on a beautiful deep purple shimmery one that made her look way older than she needed to, but it was appropriate. Afterwards you found the food court and dug into some pizza and garlic knots.

“So… since your dad will never bring this up… are you going with anyone to the dance? Like maybe a boy? or girl, I don't judge.”

You knew she probably didn’t want to talk about it as pre-teens never do but you wanted to make sure she wasn’t going to do anything stupid. Her cheeks blushed a deep shade of crimson but she giggled slightly, telling you there was someone.

“I mean… I’m not going with anyone but my friends but…”

She was avoiding telling you the truth, maybe because she thought you’d rat her out to her dad.

“Look Sarah… I'm not asking to be a snitch, I just want to make sure you’re being safe and smart, that's all.”

She looked up at you with shyness but trust in her deep brown eyes.

“There is this boy… Ben,” she had the most radiant smile on her face telling you about her crush. He’s a little older than her but in the same grade and apparently very sweet and has blue eyes and dark blonde hair. You can imagine her sitting in class staring at him instead of listening to the teacher.

“So, are you going to meet him at the dance?”

“I mean we haven’t made plans but… I told him I’d see him there, and he followed me on instagram!”

It all reminded you of the days before adult pressure and complicated feelings. You smiled as she continued to tell you about him and the things she found endearing.

“Ok now, I have to ask and be the annoying adult but have you, you know… done anything with boys before?”

While she was only just under thirteen you still had to make sure, kids do anything these days.

“Like what?” She gave you a scrunched confused face then slowly realized what you were asking. “Like kissing?! Oh no that’s gross, boys smell anyway…,” she seemed to maintain her innocence for a while longer.

Thank god.

“Well that’s fair, but just remember, if a boy ever tries to do anything you don’t like, you can always say no. Don’t ever feel like you have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

She looked a little confused at your instruction but nodded anyway. She’s a very smart kid and strong willed, you have full faith in her.

The rest of the day was spent wandering around the mall and you both finally decided to end up getting your nails done.

Joel came home to find you both cooking dinner, a hoard of shopping bags littered the house.

“There’s my girls,” he ruffled his daughter's hair and covered her eyes jokingly as he kissed you deeply. “How was shopping? Successful it seems like.”

“Very…,” Joel’s eyes kept flicking down to your lips, as they often did when he got home from work.

“Dad, look! We got our nails done!” She splayed her fingers out so he could inspect her manicure. You let her get some slightly ‘grownup’ nails, small extensions with french tips. She said she’ll be the talk of the dance.

“Oh look at that… my little girl is all grown up…,” he looked a little queasy and you both laughed at his reluctance to let her grow up.

“Sarah, why don’t you put these bags away and I'll finish dinner, ok?”

She hugged you tight around your middle and mumbled about a million ‘thank you’s into the fabric of your shirt before grabbing her bags and darting up the stairs.

As soon as she disappeared Joel grabbed your hips as he stood behind you and pulled you into his hard chest. He attached his lips to your neck and ran his hands over your curves.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” His voice was low and gravely in your ear.

“Mmm, not today…”

He pulled you impossibly closer and nuzzled his mouth against your neck. “Well I do, I love you so damn much,” he continued kissing down your neck and any skin he could reach. “Sarah loves you too you know, she’s always talking about you…”

It felt like he wanted to talk about something else, something more. Your relationship has been going so well and it kind of feels like it’s time to take the next step. While you both know that this is it, there’s no one else for either of you, it might not be exactly time yet to tie the knot. However you have talked about sharing a space, the idea of living together is exciting to both of you.

“Well I love her, she’s a great kid, because you’re a great dad.” You turned in his arms and returned the kisses along his jaw. Just as you slid your hands into his back pockets, loud very teen sounding footsteps came racing down the stairs. You pulled away from each other but Sarah was too busy looking at her nails to notice. The timer on the oven beeped and as Joel and his daughter set the table you gathered the rest of dinner.

You sat around the table like you always did on Saturday nights and talked about the plans for the next week and the dance. You really did love your little found family.

The following Saturday you sat in Sarah’s room with her and a couple friends of hers, helping do their hair and makeup. Joel happened to have a poker game tonight with Tommy so he said bye just before the teen girl screaming got too loud. So here you were, a fully grown woman essentially playing dress up with a few 13 year olds. But you couldn’t be happier.

After the girls were ready and a lengthy photoshoot ensued, you were off. Four screaming voices all trying to harmonize to some pop song over the radio made your ears ring but seeing Sarah so happy made it worth it.

The plan was to pick her up around 10pm when it ended.

So you were super confused when you got a call from Sarah around 8:30pm.

“Hey girl, what’s going on? You ok?”

All you heard at first was a sniffle, then a deep breath before her wobbly voice came over the speaker. “N-no, not really…”

Your heart stopped for a second but you tried to stay calm.

“What’s wrong?” You tried to hide the urgency in your voice.

“Ben… he—“ hiccup “He was a… a total jerk!” Her voice was strained and scratchy like she had been crying for some time.

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry… You know what, you stay in the office, ok? I'm going to come get you.”

She only mumbled a quiet ‘ok, bye’ before you slammed the phone down on the receiver and grabbed your keys. You shaved off probably five to ten whole minutes speeding through the streets to the school.

You quickly make your way to the office and find her with mascara running down her cheeks. She hiccuped and sniffled when she saw you before sluggishly standing and wrapping her arms around you. She sobbed slightly into your sweatshirt and you wrapped the one you brought her around her shoulders. After the teacher who waited with her waved you out, you gathered her into your car and made your way home.

But before reaching the familiar street you had an idea. Sarah had been slumped in her seat with the sweatshirt wrapped tight to her form until she saw the neon lights. You swore you saw her eyes light up when she saw the ‘Dairy Queen’ sign and it warmed your heart.

She got her usual birthday cake flavor of course, and you got your favorite. Before now you tried to let her have a few breathing moments but as you settled in the parking lot you tried to get some information from her.

“Are you ok?”

“Boys are so stupid…,” another tear slipped out of her eye.

“I know… I hate to say it but they don’t get much better.” You managed to get a laugh out of her which was an improvement. “What did Ben do?”

She spooned the thick ice cream into her mouth and tried to talk around it. “H-he was with that girl Rebecca all night and I tried to say ‘hi’ but he ignored me and pretended I wasn’t there. They were laughing at me…,” She resolved into sobs again and you rubbed her shoulder to try and comfort as best as you could.

“Oh god I’m sorry that’s so… shitty.” You never really cursed around her as she’s still young but this felt appropriate. It also helped draw out a laugh again, which made you both smile. “Look, boys like that are not worth your time. He’s playing games and you don’t want a boy who plays games. If anyone ever talks to you like that, it means they don’t respect you. You should only be friends, or more, with someone who respects you. Does that make sense?”

She looked at you with her red-rimmed and puffy eyes and you knew she got it. Of course she got it, she’s a smart kid.

“Yeah, I think so. Thank you… I'm sorry I freaked you out.” The light returned to her eyes as she giggled at her own words.

“You didn’t freak me out… too bad.” You were both laughing now, recalling the way you sped over to the school. “Look we can talk more if you want but I think you need some ‘you’ time tonight. Let’s get you some of my nice bath stuff and we can do a little spa night?”

“That sounds nice… thank you.” She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around your neck. On the way home you told her stories of things boys had done to you in the past. You did make sure to let her know that her dad was not one of them, he was the best kind of guy. Once you arrived home you gave her some bath stuff and gave her a clean towel and told her you’d wait downstairs for her.

You made some tea in the meantime and shortly after, Joel got home. Before he said anything he looked towards the stairs and heard the shower running. He gave you a quizzical look and you sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to like it.

“So Sarah had me pick her up early…”

He already looked concerned.

“She’s fine… it was boy drama. We talked and she’s still upset but she’ll live.”

He breathed out a dramatic sigh and you welcomed him into your arms.

“This is what I was worried about,” he sounded so defeated.

“Joel, it’s bound to happen. Every girl gets her heart broken, it’s inevitable unfortunately.” You rubbed your palm over his stubble and looked over his tired features. “She’s smart and strong willed. Boys will be intimidated by her when she realizes it.”

He softened at that. “Thank you for helping her so much, she really has opened up since knowing you.”

“She’s really something, just like her dad. He’s not too shabby,” you giggled as he pinched your waist.

“I’m not too shabby? That’s sweet.”

You mirrored his smile as he boxed you between himself and the kitchen counter. He kissed you deeply, pushing his tongue between your lips, tasting every inch of you. Your hum reverberated through your chest into his and your skin lit on fire from the inside out. Desire instantly pooled in your lower stomach and you ground your hips into his. This only resulted in his hard, jean clad thigh slipping between yours and pushing against your clothed sex. You moaned into his mouth and just as you felt like you were going to lose it, Joel pulls away and then you hear descending footsteps.

Sarah reaches the bottom but doesn’t come down, “I’m going to go to bed, I’m really tired. Sorry dad.”

“That’s ok angel, you sleep good. Love you.”

“Love you guys,” then she’s gone.

“‘Love you guys’?” you look at Joel with surprise. “Did she just say she loves me?”

He just stares down at you with this tender look, unresponsive for a few moments.

“Move in with me.”

It wasn’t a question but a plea. Like he couldn’t imagine you’d say no. Because why would you?

“Really?” Your heart raced.

“Yes really, we both want you here. More than anything.”

“Of course, I’d love to!” You squealed like Sarah did earlier tonight and launched yourself at him. He caught you around the middle and pulled you up, sounding giddy as you did while he spun you around.

You spent the first night in your now full time shared bed after Joel showed you all the ways he truly, passionately loved you.

You knew you were finally home.

#fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #tlou #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel the last of us #the last of us #lady djarin

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uniquexusposts · 4 months ago

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Another Love - C. Leclerc

Summary: Y/n and Charles broke up and Y/n preforms a heartbreaking song about their breakup. A/N: I don't know what this piece is supposed to be, but it popped up in my head. Every once in a while, I'm getting back to listening Another Love over and over again. Enjoy reading :) Credits: Tom Odell - Another Love

The lights dimmed as the crowd roared. Y/n took a deep breath as she took place behind the piano on the stage. She took a sip of the ginger tea and adjusted the microphone.

Y/n L/n, a very respected and loved sing and songwriter, was preforming on one of the biggest festival stages of her career. Over the last seven years, she worked hard for this moment. She could finally say she made it. She should be excited about it, but she was feeling mild about it. Perhaps of her recent breakup. Her ex-boyfriend supported her during her career, like she did with his. And knowing she would about to sing the record breaking song, made her feel anxious. To many people it was a hit, to her it was her grief.

Her hands rested above the keys and when she pressed them in, the crowd cheered once again. A smile grew on her lips, this moment was so special to her; this was the first time she played her new song live. This was the first time they heard the song. She began to sing, her voice steady, but underneath, a current of emotion ran wild. The words bled from her lips, each line cutting deeper than the last.

I wanna take you somewhere so you know I care... But it’s cold and I don’t know where.

As she sang, images of her ex-boyfriend flickered in her mind; the late nights, the laughter, the silences that grew between them until the distance was too much. He had been her everything. Until he wasn't.

Meanwhile, Charles Leclerc sat on his couch, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone, trying to ignore the heaviness in his chest. It had been months, but somehow, everything reminded him of her. Her smile, her laugh; her absence.

A notification lit up his screen. A video.

Charles clicked on it, and there she was. Y/n. Performing on a massive stage, her voice piercing through the screen.

"Wait..."

He sat up straighter, watching as the performance unfolded. His stomach twisted, the lyrics crashing down on him like waves. It wasn’t just a song. It was their story.

On another love, another love. All my tears have been used up.

His breath hitched. It was all there: everything they'd never said, everything that tore them apart. The late-night arguments, the constant travel, the things they'd tried to fix but couldn’t.

He watched her, radiant and fierce under the stage lights, baring her soul to the world. And the world was eating it up. The video had thousands of comments, the hashtags trending, and every single one of them knew the truth he was now grappling with.

This song was about him.

Charles' hands shook as he tossed his phone to the side, as though putting distance between them would somehow ease the weight pressing down on his chest. But it didn’t. The song was everywhere.

Y/n belted the chorus with everything she had left, her chest tightening as the adrenaline surged higher because she heard the crows sing so loudly, mixing with the ache that had been there for months. The lights flashed, the stage seemed to grow smaller, and for a moment, it was just her and the song; a private confession laid bare for the world to witness.

I wanna sing a song that’d be just ours, but I sang ‘em all to another heart.

It made it more emotional because no one knew the song, she was telling to song, sharing her story. But mostly, talking to Charles. All Y/n could think about was how the love she sang about wasn’t gone. It was still there, buried beneath the layers of hurt and regret. But it was fractured, scattered across the months of distance between them.

By the time she reached the final notes, her breath was ragged, but she pushed through, finishing the song with a rawness that left the crowd momentarily silent before they erupted into thunderous cheers. Y/n’s heart raced, her chest heaving, and she could feel the sweat slicking the back of her neck as the adrenaline surged one last time.

The cheers were deafening, the flashing cameras blinding, but as she stood on stage, soaking it all in, she felt utterly exposed. She had given them everything; her heart, her pain, her love. And now, it was out there, a piece of her forever tied to the song. This song was over, and there were just a few more seconds left before the next song would begin. She smiled at the crowd. Even though it was tough, she was so overwhelmed by the reaction. That was why she loved to preform.

Charles sat on the floor of his apartment, his phone lying face down beside him. He’d thrown it there after watching the performance loop for the fifth time. He couldn’t escape it. The way she sang, the raw emotion, the way everyone sang it along, the way the lyrics had ripped him apart all over again; it was like the world had caught a glimpse of his soul without his consent.

He raked a hand through his hair, trying to steady his breathing. But the notifications kept lighting up his phone; mentions, comments, articles already popping up about Y/n’s performance. He’d tried to ignore it at first, but as the hours passed, it became clear that the internet had figured it out.

Headlines flooded his screen:

“Y/n L/n’s Heart-Wrenching New Song Sparks Breakup Rumours with F1 driver Charles Leclerc!"

"Y/n Confirms Split with Emotional Performance—Another Love a Nod to Leclerc?"

Charles groaned, standing up and pacing. The media had already been circling them for months, speculating, whispering, but they had kept quiet about the breakup. Now, Y/n’s song had blown the lid off it. There was no hiding anymore.

He picked up his phone and sent a message to Pierre.

"Have you seen this? They're talking like they know everything."

Pierre’s response was quick.

"Mate, it’s everywhere. You alright?"

Charles didn’t reply. He wasn’t alright. He wasn’t sure how to handle it, but one thing was clear; he couldn’t just sit here and let the world spin this narrative. His PR team was already calling, trying to figure out how to manage the situation. But what could he even say?

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lila-went-missing · 1 year ago

Note

I saw you wanted req's for Clarisse !! and I had a cute (well I thought it was cute) Hear me out !! You're Percy's older sister but you've been at camp for a few years so you and Clarisse have had more time to talk and get closer, sooo coincidentally once Percy came and after he and Clarisse had their fall out she finalized the relationship (not to be petty but just to get under his skin a little bit.. but also she didn't wanna do something to Percy and have you upset with her and ruin the progress y'all made.) But !! Percy only found out when you guys were eating at your table and Clarisse came by and didn't say anything to him, she kissed you but as she was walking away she muttered a half-assed apology to Percy. Bro's dumbfounded but you break the news to him, and as the loving brother he is and the fact you and Clarisse have known each other it's only fair he happy for you !! (You keep him safe from her.) SORRYYY this is so long but Clarisse makes me giggle, I hope you're having an amazing day !

I've been so excited to write this but I'm also such a procrastinator so sorry if this took a long time to come out. You're literally so sweet I hope you have an amazing day.

Warnings: Mentions of blood and wounds, it gets slightly suggestive once but nothing happens, cursing i think, I'm not going to lie to you this sucks especially the ending.

This took forever because I'm the medically expensive one in the family and I've been in and out of doctors offices for over a month now. This isn't proofread, I trust grammarly and move on. I love you all so much, enjoy my lovelies.

When the Waves Come In

Being a forbidden kid was anything but easy. Monsters could smell you more than others. The gods hated you. Trouble and tragedy seemed to track you down wherever you went, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. The only perks? Having a cabin to yourself and being slightly more powerful than other demigods. If you were being honest, that wasn't really a fair trade.

Not to mention, the other demigods at Camp Half-Blood either hated or praised you. There was no in between. You were claimed only seven months after arriving at camp, this made a lot of unclaimed kids unhappy with you. Like it was your fault that Poseidon was kind of proud of you once? It's not like he's bothered to reach out since then.

Over the last three years of living at camp, you've made some decent friends. You got along pretty well with most of the Hephaestus kids, Beckendorf immediately taking a liking to you for your stubbornness. The Apollo kids liked you, they even let you help lead archery classes. But there was one person that you were closer with than anyone else. Clarisse. Your Clarisse.

You weren't friends. You were so much more than that. But at the same time, you weren't quite together either. It was very complicated. However, there was one thing you were both certain of, you like being near each other, and hated being separated. Oftentimes, she would sit at your table during meals, Chiron choosing to turn a blind eye. You would sneak her dessert every time she lost her privileges. You were her girl, that much, everyone knew.

When a new kid by the name Percy Jackson showed up at camp, you didn't think much of it. New kids arrived all the time, 90% of them never being claimed and getting left to rot by their godly parents in the Hermes cabin. It was sad, but it was the truth. You learned to live with it.

You assumed the same would happen to him, until you saw it. The horn that once belonged to the Minotaur. Grover claimed he had killed it with its own horn. Everyone believed it except Clarisse. You wanted to not believe it, but how else would he have the horn?

Of course, Clarisse being Clarisse, she had to prove that he was a fraud. The first time she did this, she was blasted by water into a wall, effectively shattering a mirror with the impact. She came to you, of course, a bruise forming over her stomach and chest. You were honestly surprised that she didn’t some internal bleeding deal going on.

“I just want him to own up to being a liar!” She ranted. “Is that too much to ask? I mean, he’s 12, he’s like 4’11, he has no muscle what so ever! How am I expected to believe that he, of all people, killed the Minotaur?” She paced back and forth over the floor of your cabin for what felt like an eternity.

“I mean, this kid shows up out of literally no where, and is getting all the glory in the world. Is everyone here really that blind? There’s no way he managed to actually kill it, yet he’s getting all the praise? How does that add up?”

You stood from your place on your bed, walking towards her and placing your hands on her shoulders. Your hands squeeze gently, trying to ground her.

“Breathe,” you whisper, “I know it sounds highly unlikely. I know you’re pissed, you have every right to be.” Honestly, if the only way you could ever get your father’s attention was through glory and winning fights, even then, seldom getting any acknowledgement whatsoever. You have to admit, you’d be pretty pissed in this situation too. I mean the only thing you could do to get anything, even an admittance that you exist, is immediately taken over by this random kid no one’s heard of? Yeah, she’s rightfully pissed.

“But I need you to breathe before you have a nervous breakdown, honey.” Your hands rub up and down her arms, feeling her muscles slowly relax.

“I wouldn’t have had a nervous breakdown.” She mutters.

“I know, but I might’ve.” Knowing her, the way she is behind closed doors, she most definitely would have. But you let her believe that she would be okay.

“It’s just not fair you know? He hasn’t done anything. Even if he did kill the Minotaur, there’s no way he wasn’t running purely on adrenaline and rage. He wouldn’t be able to do that again if he tried. He’s getting all of this praise, and for what? Existing? Being, not even a man, a boy?” Her voice is much much quieter this time, barely making it to a whisper. If it wasn’t for your proximity you probably wouldn’t have heard it.

“I know, I know, love.” You can’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around her. “Just think, in a week or two, people will probably forget all about it. He’ll go back to being a regular 12 year old, nothing special.” Realistically, you know that sounds kind of bad, but what else are you supposed to say to her.

There was a part of you, no matter how small that part may be, that knew that wasn’t going to happen. Most demigods aren’t able to do something like that and live through it. But you knew he wasn’t like most demigods.

You knew he would get claimed, soon, most likely. From the moment you laid eyes on him it’s like you could feel it. What happened in the bathrooms only confirmed your suspicions. While you didn’t say anything to the girl in front of you, you knew who he was.

He was another forbidden kid. Not just a forbidden kid though, your brother. A son of Poseidon.

***

Capture the flag was the next day. From the moment you woke up you could feel the energy surging through the air. This was one of the most anticipated events of the summer. The only thing you really won was a party and bragging rights. I guess to camp full of the competitive people you’d ever meet, that was all you needed.

It was definitely all Clarisse needed. She loved to win and hated to lose, a trait she inherited from her father. And she’d be dammed if she was going lose another game of Capture the Flag.

That’s why you’re so confused when she tells you that she’s changing the plan. She never changes the plan, finding solace in a good strategy.

You understood more when she explained what she was doing. Revenge on the new kid for blasting her with toilet water. When you put it like that, it sounds logical. But knowing Clarisse, and knowing what you know, you can’t just go along with it.

“Clar, I really don’t think this is a good idea.” You both paced around each other in your cabin, similar to last night.

“Are you seriously telling me that what he did was okay?” Her voice raises with every word.

“No! I just- I have a bad feeling! I don’t want you to get hurt!”

“I won’t! I can handle myself, you know this!”

“I know! But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to worry about you!” Your heart beats out of your chest with every step you take towards each other.

“I can’t believe this! You really don’t think I can do this!” Before you can even formulate a response, she’s grabbing her stuff and walking out the door.

You follow her of course, yelling her name, but it’s no use. She doesn’t turn around. She doesn’t even pause in her steps. You watch her disappear behind the door of cabin five.

The door to cabin three shuts as you slide down it. Your head hits the wood as you lean back, sure to give you a headache later. You can’t find it in yourself to care though. A tear slips down your cheek. Then another. Then another.

You know it’s a bad idea. She will go after revenge. And she will get hurt. But you also know that there’s literally nothing you can say to her. You want to, but it’ll only make things worse. That's the thing about Clarisse, when she gets her mind set on something, there's no changing her mind. All you can do is patch her up afterwards.

The red team has kept the flag near the water ever since you were claimed. They made sure that you were never far from it, blasting anyone in the face if they got too close for comfort. You weren't going to lie, it was potentially one of your favorite things to do.

So, as per usual, you were patrolling the edge of the water. No one had really gotten close enough, which was very disappointing. Until the new kid ran out of the woods and immediately tripped and fell on his face. Your whole body straightens immediately, muscles tensing. You pull out your sword and move towards him. He probably doesn't want a fight but it's better safe than sorry.

He had a few cuts littering his arms and cheeks. His clothes were dirty and he was now covered in wet pebbles. You could tell that he was disoriented and panicked. You were about to approach him when one of your sort of girlfriend's brothers ran out of the woods after him. Miles. One of her sisters followed suit, Trinity, you think her name was. Dear Hades they're actually going through with it.

Clarisse comes barreling out of the woods after them. Before you can even think about jumping in the sound of metal on metal fills your ears. Swords and shields clash. A spear jabbed at his chest. Her spear. You wanted to get between them, help him, protect him. Even if he didn't know it yet, he was.

But you couldn't. Everything moved so fast you didn't have time to react before they were all rolling over the ground. The water fed off of your emotions, grabbing her siblings and ripping them away from the fight. But it was too late. You saw the spark come from in between them. You heard the wood snap. Half of the spear was in her hands, the other half in his as his body rolled with the momentum.

It felt like time froze for those few seconds. The water was still. The wind stopped blowing, birds stopped chirping. The air around you seemed to disappear. You couldn't breathe. All noises cut out as her guttural scream ripped through the air, lasting for what felt like an eternity.

She ran forward, grabbing the front of his armor and jerking him forward. The conch blew, the blue team ran across the river carrying the flag. She ran off into the woods, it didn't take long for you to follow behind her, grabbing the pieces of the spear as you went.

Before you fully made it away, you saw the trident above his head. That's the moment you realized that you should've placed bets. You would've made bank, but that's not really your concern right now.

You find her in her cabin, facing away from the door, sitting on the edge of her bed. If you look close enough you can see the way her shoulders shake. You place the pieces of her spear on a table near her bed before kneeling behind her. Your arms wrap around her front, pulling her in.

Her back rests against your front, her head tucking back into your neck. You feel the way her shoulders tremble and shake in your gentle hold. For a long time, she doesn't say anything. A few tears slip down your cheeks that you don't mention. You don't push her. It's very rare she lets anything like this happen. She feels like showing these kinds of emotions would make her weak. It didn't matter how many times you assured her otherwise. Sometimes you can't change a person's thoughts when they're the only thing that person has ever known.

After what feels like forever, she speaks. Her voice comes out shaky. It's the kind of soft you only hear late in the night after sneaking into her cabin.

"That spear- it was the only-." A sob escapes her throat and you can feel the way it moves through her whole body, consuming her completely.

"I know honey.." You whisper in her ear. Your arms subconsciously tighten around her muscular frame.

"It was the only proof that he could ever love me." You swear you can feel your heart shatter. You've never liked her dad, but even so, you knew how much that spear meant to her. Her fathers traits were very prominent in her from the moment she was born. Her anger issues kept her in trouble, never getting help. Never being accepted. Her father was the only hope she would ever have until she met you. But even then she was so terrified of losing you...

"It'll be okay.. I promise." Your words a hidden promise of protection.

You're not sure what happens that night but you know something changes. Her arms wrapped around you a little tighter. Her breaths came a little deeper, more relaxed. Your finger over more of her scars, tracing them with the delicacy that was only ever seen in the hands of the greatest artists. When you thought about it though, she was the only work of her art that would ever be worthy of such care.

When you wake the light hits the two of you in a new way. As if Apollo made Helios shine it on the two of you alone so he could write the greatest love hymns that would ever be seen by mankind.

Her siblings don't question your presence. They never do. Why would they when it's so rare the children of Ares are able to find such peace. So rare they can find such a level of acceptance within another person.

For a while you sit there and watch the golden light dance across her bronze skin. The way it shines around her face, the face you've kissed so many times. The face you long to kiss right now. You don't sneak out this morning, instead staying curled into her side. The beating of her heart threatening to lull you back into a peaceful slumber.

Then the conch blows for breakfast, causing her to stir. Her eyes flutter open, turning into pools of golden honey as the light swims in the sweet waters. A small smile creeps onto her lips as her eyes meet yours.

"Hi." You whisper. Your hand strokes over her cheek.

"Hi, baby." Her voice is as soft as the way she looks at you. Before you know it she's leaning forward and placing her lips on yours. It's the first time but it doesn't feel like that. It just feels... right. Something about it is so perfect. The way your lips fit together like long lost pieces of a puzzle.

"What was that for?" Your lips remain parted when you pull away. "I just, wanted to kiss you." She mutters in reply. A blush covers the expanse of her cheeks. You never thought you'd see her so flustered. "Can you do it again? Kiss me again?" She smiles and nods at your words before leaning in and pressing her lips back against yours.

They're soft and warm as they slide against yours. It feels like coming home after a long day of training. Your favorite person right in front of you with open arms.

When she pulls away, she's smiling wider than you've ever seen her. "I really should have done that a lot sooner." You can't help but laugh at her words. "I've only been waiting for four years!"

"Why don't we make up for that?" She leans forward, resting her hand on her waist and pulling your body against hers. A chuckle leaves your throat.

"Maybe later, right now, I really want breakfast." You peck her lips once more before rolling out of bed. "Come on!"

It's not long before you're both dressed and making your way to the dining pavilion. As much as you would like to sit with her, she's already on thin ice with Chiron. You take your time getting your food and burning it, not wanting to be separated until absolutely necessary. Eventually though, you have to part ways and join your newly-claimed brother at the Poseidon table.

"I'm surprised you're not more banged up if I'm being honest." You say as you take your seat. There's not a single scratch on him.

"Annabeth kind of shoved me into the water, next thing I know everything is healed." He answers, you can tell he's nervous knowing your connection with Clarisse.

"Perks of being Poseidon's kid, that and our cabin is a lot less crowded." He laughs lightly at your words.

"You're telling me! It's nice not sleeping on the floor." The both of you go quiet for a while, eating in comfortable silence. The breeze is cool against your skin, a nice reminder of the weather barrier. When you look up, Percy is looking behind you with pure fear in his eyes. You expect to be greeted by a monster when you turn, instead you're greeted by your girlfriend.

You can't help but chuckle at the look on Percy's face. You really can't help but laugh at his face when she leans down and presses a kiss against your cheek. "I'll see in training later, right babe?"

"Wouldn't miss it." You kiss her jaw before she turns and jogs off towards the arena.

"She- you-" He looks utterly dumbfounded as what he just witnessed. "What just happened?"

"She's my girlfriend, Percy."

His mouth drops open with the most surprised look you've ever seen. "Oh."

"Is that an issue?" You don't really care if it is, but you ask anyway. "No, no I just, didn't take her as the type to really date anyone." He answers.

"Most people don't, I'll do my best to keep her from pulverizing you." A laugh escapes you before you take your leave.

Life didn't seem too bad.You had a new brother, you were dating the girl you'd been in love with for years. You might even be able to convince her to leave him alone. You'll get her spear fixed as a surprise birthday gift.

You can feel everyone's surprised eyes on you as you walk out. There's no doubt the entire camp knows by now, and there's no doubt that a billion rumors will be floating around by dinner time. But there's a part of that just, can't find it in you to care. How can you when you have everything you've wanted right there in front of you.

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