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finntheehumaneater · 4 months

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I owe you a black eye and two kisses (pt 3)

(Part one) (part four)

playlist | pinboard

@hack-saw2004 THIS IS FOR YOU. THEY DID THE THING. And also more than that because I thought “this needs to be gayer”. I also have never smoked, so…sorry if it’s inaccurate lmao

some tags for people haven’t been working, so I am so sorry if you’re on the taglist but it didn’t go through :(

(notes and taglist under the cut)

CW: smoking, swearing, nightmares

It was windier than it had been before when Eddie pulled up to his trailer, and any semblance of neatness in Steve’s hair was blown away the second he stepped outside. The wind stung against his face, and he blinked back tears as he squinted at the trailer. It wasn’t supposed to be this cold, it was July sixth.

He waited for Eddie to get out, and then hobbled behind him to the front door. Every step made his chest ache and his lungs burn. The painkillers helped a bit, but it was only Ibuprofen so it just made him feel less tired. He still needed sleep, though. Maybe a good shower. He smelled like blood sweat and dust, even though his clothes were clean.

Eddie opened the door and helped Steve up. His hands were warm, but his rings were cold, and Steve didn’t realize he had been staring at the metal skull until Eddie tried to wriggle his hand out of Steve’s grip. Steve let go, his cheeks pink.

“Sorry,” he tried to say, but he barely got the words out before a gruff voice called, and Wayne Munson shuffled into the room, eyeing Steve over.

“Ed? Who’s this?”

Wayne’s brown flannel hung loosely off of him—the same with his ripped-up jeans, that Steve didn’t think were supposed to be that ripped. He had lost weight since the last time Steve had seen him out. Which has been a few months ago.

Steve wanted to say that he was nobody—that he was just a stranger staying the night because he felt too broken to go and sleep alone—because he couldn’t just accept the fact that he had to be okay, even after everybody that happened. But he stayed silent, watching Eddie go up to Wayne and whisper something.

Their tones were hushed, and Wayne kept looking back over at Steve, which made him shrink into himself slightly, feeling bare again. He wished he had a jacket or something—something that he could pull around himself. He tugged the waistband of his jeans up a bit higher and crossed his arms over his stomach.

He honestly didn’t know how long he had been staring at the floor, but eventually Eddie came over and took his hand, tugging him down the very small, thin hallway and towards the bathroom. Steve felt a few tears slip down his cheeks, but Eddie ignored him, looking over his face for a minute before he pushed Steve gently into the bathroom, stating simply, “Shower.”

Steve nodded and wiped his eyes. He really needed to stop fucking crying. But he knew that wasn’t going to happen. Not for a while. He watched Eddie run a hand through his hair, his eyes wide as he huffed and held his hands out in front of him—palms facing Steve like he was a spooked animal that might run. He might’ve.

“Jesus, okay. We have very little hot water, so try not to use it all, yeah? Like a ten minute shower tops? I’ll come in and leave some clothes on the counter, and then I’ll go and make up the couch for you. You’ll be okay in here by yourself?”

He said it like he was offering to stay, and Steve really would have fucking liked that—just to have someone in here with him even if he couldn’t see them through the shower curtain—but he knew that’s not what Eddie was asking. So he nodded even though he didn’t mean it and let Eddie start the shower for him, tucking himself into the corner. He watched as Eddie grabbed a towel from the cabinet below the sink and placed it on top of the toilet seat, before patting his shoulder and leaving.

Fuck, the shower felt amazing. Eddie came in at some point to put clothes on the counter, but Steve wasn’t really aware of anything more as he sat there, letting the water run over him. He regretted washing his hair, because he didn’t know what the hell was in Eddie’s shampoos—the bottles kind of sticky and the labels long worn off—but it was better than having his hair flopping over and stuck to his forehead. He also didn’t think that Eddie had any hairspray—let alone the kind he normally used.

He tried to get himself out before the water turned cold, but he regretted it immediately after, because the air was too-cool and his hair was sticking to the back of his neck in a way that made him want to cry.

He dried off and changed into the clothes Eddie had left on the counter—an old brown sweater and some shorts that clung to his thighs in a way that was almost uncomfortable, but he’d live. It was better than sleeping in jeans, anyways. The door to Wayne and Eddie’s rooms were closed, so Steve went to the living room, falling onto the couch that had a blanket draped over. He had kind of expected it to be more made up than it was, but then felt bad for thinking that. He had shown up last minute, to people that he knew didn’t like him that much, so he deserved to sleep on the couch where the springs poked into his side, with a scratchy pillow and a thrown blanket that Steve thought was supposed to be white. And it probably had been, at some point. Maybe twenty years ago.

He tried to get comfortable—tried to shake off the gross feeling of his damp hair, which was going to look horrible in the morning, but at least it was clean, now—and closed his eyes.

There was blood everywhere. It was on him, and on the floor, and dripping into teeth. He was alone and the room was dark and fuck, he couldn’t see. Everything was blurry. His face hurt. His head hurt. His chest hurt. He heard the door open, and backed into the corner, barely able to see through his swollen eyes.

“Please,” he begged, but he didn’t even know what he was begging for. He just wanted it all to stop. He wanted to leave. He wanted to die. He wanted Robin.

Steve woke with a start as he heard the screen door swing shut, sitting up quickly and gasping. His hands immediately went to his face, feeling it over, and he crumpled back into himself when he felt the stinging of still-hurt skin. It had happened. He wasn’t okay.

He got up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as gently as he could and stumbled outside, his feet tripping over themselves. He kind of wished he had kept his socks on after the shower, even if they were dirty.

Eddie was perched on the picnic table just outside of the trailer, a cigarette dangling from his lips, an open notebook in his lap. He had headphones on, and Steve could hear the loud music coming through, but the Walkman was too far away for him to read what the tape was. There was a small tin sitting next to it, cream colored with a gold-looking lid. It looked outdated.

Steve made his way down to the grass and sat next to Eddie, who still didn’t notice him, his eyes glued to the notebook and whatever drawing he was making. Steve picked up the tin. It had the face and shoulders of a woman on the front—long blonde hair and a laurel wreath, her pale skin almost the color of the tin. There were green and gold designs around her, outlining the font. Some of the words were faded and scratched over, but Steve could make it out. Or at least what he thought it said.

Colgate’s Dactylis. Talc Powder. Boric Antiseptic. COLGATE & CO. New York, USA.

He opened it, and there were cigarettes stuffed inside, a lighter stuck with them. The tin in itself wasn’t very big, but it fit maybe four or five of them with the lighter.

He felt Eddie startle as he set the tin back down, flinching in on himself, one of his knees raised as he threw the notebook onto the bench and wrenched off his headphones. “Jesus, Harrington…,” he muttered, putting a hand over his heart and sighing. His eyes looked kind of red, like he had been crying. Steve wanted to ask what was wrong, but he knew Eddie would yell at him if he did. “Give a man a warning.”

Steve nodded and looked down. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Don’t be,” Eddie muttered, huffing and picking up the Walkman. Steve tried to catch a glimpse of what it was, but Eddie tucked it away after he paused it, too soon for Steve to see.

Steve sighed, settling into the almost-uncomfortable silence, before he saw Eddie’s hand in his vision, holding out the cigarette for him. Steve looked over at him. Some of Eddie’s curls were falling over his face, acting like a curtain, making his expression unreadable, but he saw Eddie nod.

He put his to his lips and took a drag, holding it for a second and letting the smoke fill up his lungs, before he breathed out, watching the smoke cloud in the cool early-morning air in front of his face. At least he assumed it was early-morning.

“So graceful,” Eddie murmured as Steve handed it back to him. He didn’t know why, but it made his cheeks flush. Eddie took a drag himself and sighed out the smoke, dropping his head before he handed it to Steve.

Steve just looked down at it for a moment, watching the very tip of it sizzle to ash. He heard Eddie clear his throat and looked over. His hair kind of looked golden around the edges from the light of the porch light of the trailer behind them. It looked good on him. Made him look almost god-like.

“You smoke often?” Eddie asked quietly, and Steve shook his head.

“Not really?”

“Is that a question or an answer?” Eddie mused, eyeing Steve over, a kind of annoyance in his face that was overshadowed by the soft yellow light around him.

Steve shrugged, looking away and sighing. He didn’t mean to keep making Eddie angry with him—and to be honest, he didn’t even know what he was doing to make him mad—but maybe he deserved this, for being such a dick to him years ago.

He was about to say something stupid that would probably make Eddie even more mad, an apology for his past actions on the tip of his tongue, when Eddie spoke up again. “You ever shotgunned?”

Steve froze, shaking his head. “No.”

“I meant with smoking.”

“There’s another one?” Steve tilted his head.

Eddie nodded. “S’the, uh…you stab the thing?” He mimed stabbing a knife into something and then taking a sip. “With the beer? I’ve seen you do it at parties and shit. The girls seem impressed by it.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that’s what it was called,” Steve said quietly, shrugging. “I’ve never…done the smoking one, then.”

“Do you want to?” Eddie asked, and he sounded kind of unsure. Steve looked over, feeling his eyebrows raise, and he hesitated.

“Hm?”

“Shotgun? Do you want to?”

“Yeah, sure,” Steve scooched a bit closer, handing the cigarette back to Eddie. “How do I do it?”

Eddie raised onto his knees on the top of the picnic table, hovering above Steve before tucking a finger under Steve’s chin so that he could raise his head. Steve leaned into his hand slightly, and maybe it was the fact that he was fucking exhausted that made him do it.

Eddie grabbed his face gently, his fingers were a bit harsh in a way that Steve kind of liked, the other man’s fingers pressing into his cheeks, the cigarette in his other hand.

“Open your mouth,” Eddie whispered, and Steve did. He felt like an idiot, just sitting there with his mouth hanging open as Eddie towered above him, taking a drag of the cigarette. He didn’t blow it out in the air, though, instead leaning forward, his lips ghosting over Steve’s, and Steve thought about leaning in for a split second, before Eddie breathed out into Steve’s mouth.

It startled Steve so much that he flinched back, his eyes wide as he choked on the smoke and coughed, doubling over with his face tucked into his arm. Eddie laughed softly and shook his head slightly, putting out the cigarette against the heel of his shoe when he sat back down. He grabbed his notebook and Walkman, standing up and flicking the stud of a cigarette into the grass. “That was shotgunning. Like it?”

Steve nodded as he coughed, his face burning red and his eyes watering. What the fuck just happened? Eddie walked back into the trailer, closing the screen door behind him. Steve got up and grabbed the cigarette but, tugging the sweater down lower, his thighs stinging from where they had been stuck to the picnic table.

He wanted to talk about this, because all of that seemed to…it seemed too much like a “friend” thing, for two people who “hated each other”. Maybe even more than a friend thing. But he knew they wouldn’t talk about it. He didn’t know Eddie that well, but he did know one thing about him. Hell, everyone knew it.

Eddie didn’t talk things over with people.

Eddie’s cigarette tin. If you even care.

I don’t read the parts of this fic over, if you find a mistake, lmk!!

taglist (WHICH IS ALWAYS OPEN ♥️):

@estrellami-1 @randombibitch @insteviewetrust @anne-bennett-cosplayer @lolawonstuff @goodolefashionedloverboi @slowandsteddie @ellietheasexylibrarian @mugloversonly @littlebluejane @zombiethingy @steddie-island @rozzieroos @ohimamarigold @origamiplushie @mamafaithful @stillfullofshit @gleek4twd @swimmingbirdrunningrock @anaibis @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @honhonbaguettegofuckyourself

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xhopelessheartx · 1 year

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Revenge Blanket Grid Pattern

This is a grid pattern and some notes from me, but I will not be teaching you how to do any of it as such. This grid can be used in crochet or knitting, but I have only provided instructions for crochet.

To complete this project you will have to be able to do the following:

Chain stitch

Double Crochet (UK) (US Single)

Turning chain

Make a tension square

Seamless colour change in the middle of a row

Seamless colour change at the beginning/end of a row

Work from a grid pattern

I have made this pattern free but if you do use it I would love it if you would give me a tip on my ko-fi so I can make more patterns in the future! Please also give me a follow and check out my shop :)

I made my blanket using DK weight yarn and a 4mm hook, and used a double crochet stitch throughout. it ended up being roughly 121cm x 121cm.

Make a tension square:

For this grid to look correct when worked you need to have a tension that is creating a perfect square.

This project has the same amount of stitches as it does rows (220 stitches, 220 rows) so a correct tension square for this project will have the same amount of stitches as it does rows, and will measure the same on all sides creating a perfect square. If your tension square is in fact a rectangle, your whole project will be distorted to a rectangle.

For example; with DK yarn and a 4mm hook, I made a square that was 20 stitches wide by 20 rows tall and it measured 11cm on every side. this was how i knew my blanket would end up as a square.

If you know your tension already then this should be pretty easy, but this part is really important so make sure you get it right.

Changing colours:

You will want to be doing a seamless colour change to avoid having weird looking ‘steps’ up and down from each colour. People change colours and deal with multiple stands of yarn in different ways so you will need to find which method is best for you.

Seamless colour change example, the way I do it: Begin with black. Insert hook into the next stitch, yarn over and pull up a loop. You'll have two loops on your hook. Drop the old colour and pick up the new colour, yarn over and pull through both loops to finish the double crochet.

You can carry your yarn through your project in different way rather than cutting and adding new pieces with each colour change -I dropped my yarn behind on the back (wrong side) and picked it up again instead of carrying it through as I found the contrast of the colours made the carried yarn too visible, but you can do this in whatever way you want.

The grid:

I have not provided written instructions for this grid but there are some things to remember:

You will be working with a Right Side (RS) and Wrong Side (WS). The RS is the side where the text reads correctly, from left to right and the image looks correct.

You can work this grid from any side, it doesn't matter, although it makes more sense to start at the bottom and work up. Just remember to keep track of which direction you are going in and where you are. A big thing to remember is when you turn your work at the end of a row you will then be working in the other direction (switching from RS to WS and vice versa).

Because this grid is so large I recommend using stitch markers to break it up into sections that are more manageable, and transferring those markers to your grid so you can better keep track- this will help you to avoid mistakes.

To begin this grid, chain 220. Turn, and make a turning stitch - you are ready to begin the first row of your grid.

(you will probably need to save this image to be able to view it in full quality)

After I finished my grid I added a row of double crochet all the way around and then did a row of granny clusters to give it a nice border but you could add any border you want or none at all! I am also planning on backing mine with some fleece or flannel to make it tidier but this isn’t necessary.

I apologise for this being so haphazard but I do hope you enjoy making it! If you have any questions please shoot me a message on any platform and I’ll do my best to answer!

Again, if you are using this grid here is a link to give me a tip so I can carry on crocheting and making patterns: https://ko-fi.com/xhopelessheartx. Thank you :)

I would also love it if you tagged me on instagram or twitter with your projects!

instagram: x.hopelessheart.x

twitter: caffeinatedeyes

please do not reproduce this grid or claim it as your own, it is for personal use only and is not to be sold

#pattern #crochet #mcr

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undercovercameron · 1 year

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only you

summary: a midnight meeting is never off the table for him.

notes: i cranked this one out like two two weeks ago but i didnt get around to editing it... apologies! this is a continuation of my same person, same mistakes fic, as it concerns rafe with a gf and the reader being highschool fwb with him. features a masturbation kink, dirty talk, and a whole lot of nostalgia! enjoy my darlings, and dont forget to watch the fuck out of obx 3 (i finished it an hour ago and its 2:00 am my time and im not sure). feel free to talk to me about it ;)

tags: rafe cameron x fem!reader

word count: 2213

It’s nearly 3 am when he shows up at your house, mind all over the place, and parks in your driveway. He knows your parents won’t be mad seeing his truck— they can’t help but love him. He slams the driver’s door shut and jogs around to the backyard, breathless in the cooler night air. The grassy shore two hundred or so yards from your house ripples with the harsh wind of early summer storms, and he wipes a hand at his forehead. It’s still hot.

Rounding the corner, he sees the metal basin that curves around one of your basement bedroom windows, and drops down onto the gravel that lies at the bottom.

You barely register the sound, fast asleep in your bed when he glances in at the dark room.

He digs around for a second in the gravel and finds the familiar curve of the window key and quickly unlocks the latch. Throwing it back down, he uses his arms to push up on the handle and slide it far enough so that he can crawl in.

You turn onto your back in your bed, and he nearly smiles at how you look. So calm, yet so stressed with your eyebrows drawn. But Rafe just hops into your air conditioned room clumsily, shoes quiet on the carpet, and nearly tips over into your desk. He turns to the window and closes it quietly.

He takes a moment to listen for any movement in the house. He knows your parents go to bed before midnight, so they’re sound asleep—he’s mainly worried about your brother. He was such a cock block in highschool.

You move in the sheets again and his attention is drawn back to you. You’re so peaceful. Oh, well.

“Y/N,” he whispers, and reaches to shake your leg. You lick your lips and burrow deeper into your pillow. “Y/N!” He raises his voice, glancing at your locked door.

“Hm,” is all that comes from your mouth, and your eyelids twitch.

“Fuck,” he curses to himself. Fine. Grabbing one of your ankles, he drags you to the foot of the bed.

“Hey!” You croak, startled awake, and blink furiously around. “Oh.” You clear your throat and wipe your eyes. There’s a handsome man at the foot of your bed.

“Hey,” he says, looking down at you, and his hand finds your shoulder. You’re dressed in soft shorts and a skimpy tank top in an effort to remain cool in this summer heat—it makes his heart thump against the wall of his chest.

“Why’re you here?” You ask, voice still groggy, and your skin erupts in goosebumps where his fingers move.

“I told you I’d come today.”

“Yeah, during the daytime.” Your eyebrows draw together and you push up onto a hand. “Not in the middle of the night.”

“Do you want me to leave?” His eyes stare down at yours. You look over him, liking the way those jeans and flannel shirt look on him. The crickets chirp outside, and you hear a branch moved by wind brush the side of your house. His hand migrates and a thumb rubs at the skin of your stomach, nudging the hem of your tank top up.

“No,” you finally settle on, and he steps closer to the bed.

“Okay,” he murmurs, and dips. Your lips connect, soft against soft, and you shiver. He smells like the sun and that car freshener he keeps in the glove compartment. His hands find your hair, cradling your head, and your body prickles at the touch. It’s so late, and he’s so warm— you just melt into him. You grip at the sides of his shirt and fall back onto your bed, taking him with you.

He grunts, pulling away from your mouth for a second, and follows you up the bed as you move closer to the headboard. He looks huge like this.

Your legs come together.

He bites his lip and with a hand on your knee moves them back apart. You settle with your shoulders against your pillow, and he leans down, between your legs once more, and kisses you.

“Rafe,” you mutter into his mouth, and he hums wordlessly in response. Your body is so soft and nice when you arch up into him that he forgets about anything besides you. You grab at his hand at your waist and drag it up your body, and when his thumb brushes your hardening nipple the crotch of his pants tightens. Fuck.

He pushes his knees into your bed, keeping your legs spread for him, and straightens. His large hands fumble with the buttons of his shirt, and he shrugs it off. The material of the shirt underneath nearly rips with how quick he takes it off. His skin is shiny and strong in the moonlight, and it takes all of your mental strength to not lean up and kiss all over his chest. That would mean you’re desperate to feel and touch him— and you’re definitely not. Between your legs definitely doesn’t ache terribly when he unbuttons his jeans.

“Please.” You lean up to him, sliding a warm hand around his shoulders, and bring him back down with you. He makes a noise when he feels your fingernails scrape his skin, but your mouth is back on his, so what reason is there to complain? His nose brushes your cheek when he pulls away to tug the tank top strap off of your shoulder, and you shudder in the cold air.

His thumb nudges your nipple back and forth, making your blood rush in your ears as your chest heaves, and he bows to catch it in his mouth. Rafe sucks, pink lips perfect just for this, and you arch up into him. The scent of body soap washes over him, and he just breathes you in. So sweet. He curls an arm around your waist, forcing your skin up against him, and you make a noise of contentment.

He mouths at your breast until he has you panting up into the night air, eyes closed, and then moves to the other. Your eyes open briefly and you slide a hand across his head, feeling his warm scalp and soft hair under your fingers.

He hums into your skin, nipple caught between his teeth, and you nearly cry out. But you hold back, wanting to save it. He pulls at it again, wanting to hear that pained noise you know he loves, and your heart skips a beat. You suck in a breath.

“So responsive,” he murmurs into you, and his gaze briefly moves to your face—his dick hardens even more.

“I’m impatient, Rafe,” you huff, petting his hair, and squeeze your thighs around him. “Please.”

“Needy,” he says more to himself than you, but pulls away to get a hand at the waistband of your shorts and move out of the way so he can rid you of them and get to what he’s actually been thinking about all day. He throws them over the edge of your bed and crowds you against the headboard again, mouth insistent upon yours as his fingers find your slick. Your thigh jerks when his pointer finger draws a line up your folds, and he just hums into your mouth. His thumb pushes into your clit, demanding, and his middle finger slides easily in. You clench around him, head thrown back into the pillow, and your eyes squeeze shut.

“Fucking wet,” he grits out through his teeth, digging his face into your neck. Your skin ripples with goosebumps at his hot breath on your throat, and he slides another finger in.

You’re so warm, so tight, so wet around him— it makes his heart smash into the cage of his ribs. It’s just like high school. You, sweet and perfect for him, and him, brooding and in the palm of your hand. He tried to not let you know that too much, though. Can’t let people around him know that he cares.

“So perfect.” His teeth nip the soft skin on your neck, and you grab a hand at his forearm, guiding him faster. He accedes, knowing what you want, and slips another finger in. You tingle and curve up into him, unused to the stretch, and the breath is stolen right from your throat.

His thumb slides off of your clit when you push it away. Your fingers replace his thumb, and he just tries to breathe. You know every fucking avenue to getting him to cum in his pants, and he’s really trying to avoid that outcome.

Your noises become higher in your throat, whinier, and he feels you start to pulse around him. His fingers push even deeper, going the perfect speed, and then you’re shaking and trying to both get away from and get closer to his hand.

He grabs at your hip and keeps you in one place, hand continuing, and you grab at him frantically.

“Too much, Rafe,” you cry, neck cramping at the angle you’d stretched it to for the longest time, but he continues on. Your blood is pumping so fast, so hard in your body, and the rush of orgasm fades into numb pleasure that makes you pulse around him.

“Come on, baby, I know you can.”

Your mind calls memories to the surface— memories of him pushing you past your limit, making you scream, cry. You loved it, and he only continued when you were nodding and shaking for him. Any inkling that you weren’t into it he was off of you. He was no stranger to felonies, such as drug distribution or grand theft auto, but he didn’t dare do anything that was a question of consent. Off the table.

“Your fingers are so—so big.” You ramble on, talking of good things only like the size of him and how he feels and tastes and smells, and his hips twitch where they're pressed to you. Fuck.

“So close, Y/N,” he pants into your ear, hips rolling steadily into your thigh and pelvis, and you feel his dick jump against you. “You’re so close.”

Your torso shakes with the effort and tension in your muscles, and he bites into your pillow.

“I fucking—,” you start, but you fling your head back into the pillow before you can finish. He really wishes he knew what you were going to say. “Yes, yes, yes—fuck!” You chant, and your hips twitch where they meet his hammering hand as you cum onto his fingers. He continues on for a little bit, loving the feel of you, but pulls his fingers out. They immediately push into his mouth and you take the moment to pull yourself together.

Sweat sticks the sheets to your back, beading at your forehead too, and you’re sure your face is flushed red. The room is undeniably hot, filled with the hot breath and energy palpable in the air. You’re sure it smells like sex, too.

Rafe catches your jaw in his hand and tilts you up for a kiss, lips hot and smooth against yours. As he settles into you again, your hand finds the crotch of his pants. He breaks away immediately, cursing and looking down at your fingers.

“Touch it,” you breathe, eyes locked on his. His wide, clear, blue eyes. “For me.”

Rafe’s large fingers push yours away and dig into his underwear, and his eyes close when his palm circles the tip of him. You look up at him, hands coming to your chest, and you cup your breasts. His eyes follow your fingers as they pinch your nipples. You back arches, and his hand around his dick pumps faster.

“You’re so good for me,” you say, as breathless as you can manage without sounding like a corny phone-sex operator, and his head cants back at your voice.

“Shit,” he gasps, mouth hanging open when he looks down. “O-Only you.” It’s more to himself, but your chest swells.

“Yeah?” You ask, and sit up. Your hands find his waist and his torso, and you lean up so his mouth is inches from yours. “Not your girlfriend?”

“Fuck,” he exhales, cheeks pink, and his eyes close when you trace his chest with a finger. “No. Not her. Never.”

You just hum, pleased, and curl a hand around his own to slow his hand. His hips twitch, fucking himself between your two hands, and his mouth opens in a “fuck” before he’s cumming right into your bare chest.

“Christ, Y/N,” he says, panting, and covers the upper half of his face with his forearm. His knees ache.

You rise clumsily from the bed and stumble into your bathroom, returning with the hand towel. You wipe at your chest and throw it back into the bathroom, careless.

“Are you staying?” You ask, nearing him, and lean one knee on the bed. He curls an arm around your waist and tugs you closer in the darkness, lips pressed to your temple.

“I don’t think you could get me to leave your bed right now, sweetheart.” He smells like sweat and the remnants of cologne, and you breathe him in.

“I’m counting on it,” you whisper, and kiss him square on the mouth.

#obx #obx 3 #obx smut #obx x you #obx x reader #obx fanfic #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron imagine #rafe obx #rafe cameron fanficton #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron oneshot

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doctorbeth · 1 year

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A Romper Room Doll

Sometimes patients have had many and serious surgeries before they come to the hospital. Such was the case with this purple checked doll. She had been recovered at some point in the 80s, but now, as her person wrote "I think at this point, every area is a problem area." Here are her diagnosis photos:

And this is what she would have looked like originally (it isn't her, it's a twin):

Fortunately, I knew we could match her checks quite closely, but not her dress. Her person was fine with that though, she could have her own fashion sense. :-) We agreed that the doll would come to the hospital and I would remove her old layers, then add stuffing as needed, recover her, give her new hair, reembroider her smile, replace her button nose and eyes, and then give her a new dress. No spa for the doll.

Surgery proceeded and in due course, she was feeling much better and ready to make some fashion choices:

(her person's reaction was "Oh my gosh she is beautiful!!! She is exactly the same, just a much better version. Absolutely perfect! I am so glad I found you! ")

There were many fabrics to choose from (we were keeping the dress style the same). Velours and calicos and hearts:

White with pink dots (a flannel) was the chosen fabric. Soon, she was sporting her new dress and ready to fly home:

Her person wrote:

She is soooooo cute! Perfect, perfect, perfect! I love the dress. At first I wasn’t going to have you make it, but I’m sure glad I did. You’ve gone above and beyond the expectations I had!

But that wasn't the end of the story... the doll returned home just after Thanksgiving and her person wrote again:

I wanted you to know that I received my doll the day after thanksgiving. The pictures you sent were one thing, but when I saw her in person, I couldn’t believe my eyes. The details! The stitching! The extra little touches! When I had her recovered so many years ago, I could have cried. I think I actually did cry. She wasn’t my doll anymore and she looked like she would fall apart again. Not only have you restored to to what she originally was, you have also made her look indestructible. You are like a fairy godmother. The world needs more special people in it like you! I honestly can’t say thank you enough.

And one last note... when I started making dolls, I made lots of fairy godmothers, because I thought everyone should have a fairy godmother -- I even had it as the logo for the dolls I made! So for someone to say what I do is "like a fairy godmother"... well it's one of the nicest things anyone could ever say.

I hope all of you have your dreams come true... with or without fairy godmothers.

#doll repair #doll hospital #cloth doll #cloth doll repair #romper room doll #cloth doll hospital #doll clothes

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piratefishmama · 10 months

Text

Fake It Till You Make It | Part 8

"Oh Steven..."

The view of Eddie was obstructed pretty quickly when Steve manoeuvred him behind him, turning fully to face his dad using his broader body to shield Eddie from view. “He’s—”

“Panicking. He’s panicking. I have eyes Steven. Lynda get this poor boy a glass of water would you?” A chair creaking from inside the room told them all his mother had gotten up to do as she was asked, and while that might have caused most to relax, Steve still stood his ground. A human blockade. “It’s okay son, you’re going to have to move eventually it might as well be now, he’s safe.”

“Is he?” Eddie rested his forehead against the centre of Steve’s shoulders, right at the base of his neck, just… rested there, Steve wouldn’t let anyone hurt him, it’d be okay.

“Well I’m not about to invite my son to send me to hospital, am I?” A wise choice, it seemed like Steve was fully prepared to do just that if necessary. “This house is safe for you both, and it always will be.” John stepped to the side a little, just enough to be able to see around Steve’s shoulder, although Steve was tempted to move into his way again, he’d put himself in the way of a train if it meant protecting someone else, Eddie was certain of it at that point “Eddie… was it?”

He’d overheard while Steve was talking to him. He knew his name. Eddie looked up, basically peeking over Steve’s shoulder. It was awkward, given they were almost the same height, but… he still felt safer there.

“Oh heavens, John step aside, you’re frightening the poor thing to death” And there was Lynda, nudging John aside with a tall glass of water in hand “Eddie, come on out from behind there,” as if ‘there’ wasn’t her damn close to six foot son “it’s okay” he was a grown man, yet he felt like he was seven all over again, hiding behind a couch away from the police who’d come to get his dad.

He’d only hidden because his dad used to tell him that if he was naughty the police would take him away, and he may have… coincidentally… drawn on his bedroom wall, he’d hidden it pretty well but… there were suddenly police bashing down the door!

Just so happened they were there for his father, who’d been doing much naughtier things.

Steve didn’t move, so that left the choice up to him. A choice he had to make, no matter how scary it was. He was there, there was no getting out of the plan now. They’d seen him, he couldn’t make a run for it… or he could but he’d never able to look Steve or Dustin in the face ever again, which left only one real option.

He took a deep breath, placed a hand on Steve’s bicep, and stepped out from behind him. Steve’s hand was very quick to find his, holding him, grounding him, a tether to keep him stable and god it felt nice to have it there, warm, and secure, fingers perfectly slotted between his own. He could only imagine what a pair they looked though.

The King and the Court Jester.

The Jock and the Freak.

Perfect and Completely Imperfect.

He knew what he looked like, how people looked at him, even in clean clothes, even having brushed his hair, he still looked like he’d just rolled out of bed sometimes, and Steve… god… There weren’t words for how perfect Steve looked.

It seemed effortless but Eddie knew Steve must have put in genuine effort. It was attractive how much effort he must have been putting in.

They all looked that perfect though. He truly looked so very out of place. Lynda in her pristine white shirtdress, a belt around her waist giving it shape and John in his expensive pale blue polo and pressed chinos.

There he was, in a hand-me-down red and black flannel, the only pair of jeans he owned that weren’t ripped at the knee (although they were getting there), hands full of silver rings, an old handed down Casio watch, scuffed Reeboks, and the one band Tee he had that wasn’t dirty.

The pickings had been slim he really should have done some laundry. He should have accepted Steve’s offer to help him clean up. They’d have been still doing it!

“Hi… I’m—I’m Eddie… Eddie Munson.” They didn’t know the family name, and it didn’t surprise him either, Wayne wasn’t raised in Hawkins, he’d just settled there after he learned Eddie would be handed to him. Traded his truck for a trailer in a random pick of a town and swapped his long haul journeys for night shifts at the plant and that was that.

They couldn’t have known his family name.

“Oh my…” it wasn’t a disgusted oh my, although her eyes did widen, he felt… seen as she looked him up and down, seemingly sizing him up, and then… she turned to Steve and all his worries seemed to vanish when she, with genuine mischief in her voice, said “he’s a bit out of your league isn’t he, Steven? I know we encourage you to be ambitious but—”

“W-what?!” And that was Steve, flustered in his response “No, I’m—he’s—”

“Sweetheart” oh she sounded so cheeky “he has tattoos” Eddie quickly glanced down at his bare forearms where he’d rolled his sleeves up earlier, bats on display, his tattoos usually a source of judgement, she wasn’t judging him though. “You’re afraid of needles.”

“I am NOT!”

“That’s not what I remember from your last round of shots.”

“I was five.” At least he was the last time they’d gone with him to get his shots done. "I've had plenty of shots since then."

“These fears don’t just vanish, Steven, how do you expect to hold onto this handsome young man if you can’t even handle a little pri—”

“Lynda please.” John interrupted what would have been a stellar takedown with a comical amount of exasperation, the man pinching the bridge of his nose as if staving off an incoming headache. Eddie, against all odds, was smiling, fighting back genuine giggles, the free hand not wrapped within Steve’s lifted to cover his mouth as if to hold them in.

“What? It’s not like it didn’t work.” She handed John the glass she’d been holding, since Eddie no longer seemed to need the water, then took a step closer to Eddie “Eddie, dear… how about you and Steven come into the living room, and we can get to know you a little, how does that sound?” There was no anger in her tone, no disgust hidden in the layers of it, she just… she smiled at him.

Where were these ‘rich assholes’ people kept claiming the Harringtons to be? Because he didn’t see them. He could understand the hesitation to trust, he was still nervous, the fear still licked at his very soul that maybe, just maybe they were biding their time, waiting for the right moment to strike when he couldn’t get out, but… was there any reason to be distrustful?

Had the Harringtons ever been outspoken against his people? Ever? Save for maybe one or two occasions where Steve had called someone queer as an insult back in high school, before he’d obviously grown.

People just assumed.

Those at the bottom just assumed the worst of all of those at the top. Same as most assumed the worst of him, that he was mean, that he was scary. They were just at opposite ends of the social ladder. There had to be some good among the rich, why not the Harringtons?

Why couldn’t they be good? Why not at least give them the opportunity to be good?

“Y-yeah… yeah, that’d uh—that’d be okay I think.” Steve squeezed his hand so gently, another attempt to ground him, to keep him tethered. To keep him calm, and it worked. It helped. Steve was there, Steve would keep him safe. No matter who came at them, Steve would keep him safe, not a King at all.

A loyal Knight, a Paladin, a Defender. He’d probably be safe walking through the fiery pits of hell itself, as long as Steve was there beside him. “You sure you’re okay, Eddie? We can go back to yours, we can just… try another day.” And Steve checked in with him too as his parents returned to the Living room, Lynda pausing at the door to wait for them while her husband continued on.

Steve’s hand warm around his, looking at him with a level of concern nobody had bothered to bestow upon him before.

Not even Wayne, but Wayne was kinda gruff, he showed his love in other ways. Steve barely knew him… he was just, that kind of person apparently.

“Nah, we’re here now and with you here? My very own big, strong knight in shining armour? I’m pretty sure I could brave anything.”

And that bashful little smile of Steve’s whenever someone praised him?

Beautiful.

Beautiful enough to chase any bad feelings away with their tails between their legs. Beautiful enough to give him the boost he needed to pull Steve along by his hand and into that living room with Lynda, beautiful enough to give him the strength to take on the goddamn world.

Or at least the scariest thing he could think of in it at the time, that being… being himself in front of two complete strangers who could ruin his life with zero repercussions aside from their son being angry at them.

So it was a pretty big deal, that smile of his.

The first thing Eddie registered as he entered the main living room though, was that off to the right, there was a magnificent mahogany table, complete with three chairs on either side and one at each end.

Last time he’d seen it, it’d been covered in pizza boxes and alcohol options, its majesty concealed beneath a layer of filth. “Stevie can I—” couldn’t help himself

“Later” Steve was quicker than him though, Dustin had already brought up the table before, it wasn’t hard to guess where Eddie’s mind would go.

Of course he’d shot Dustin down, but Eddie? Maybe… just maybe he’d let Eddie use it. Only once his parents left again though, something told him they’d draw a line at a Dungeons and Dragons campaign, one of the main highlights of the ongoing Satanic Panic, being held in their dining room, whether they used it or not.

“So!" John began as he found his seat once more, waiting only for Steve and Eddie to sit down on the sofa close by, side by side, hand in hand, looking like the least likeliest pair in existence, to begin. "Eddie, tell us a little about yourself, how’d you both meet?”

Straight into the deep end then. "Well..."

Part 10

#PirateWrites #FakeItTillYouMakeItFiclet #Steddie #No Upside Down AU #Fake Dating AU #i have once called this fic my self-indulgent fic #it is for this reason that you get two updates in a row lmao

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 8 months

Text

the paint

lilac, chapter nine

a/n: hi! I'm back after taking a short break to obsessively work on this year's kinktober, but now i'm finally back to writing this beloved story. it feels so good to get back into it. it's only been a few weeks, one month max, but i've missed my lumberjack so much.

summary: “oh please, there’s only one guest staying here right now, and even so, people know this room is under construction, who in their right mind would just willy-nilly waltz in here?”

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, smut, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, renovating an inn, painting, kissing, semi-public sex, oral, fingering, dirty talk

word count: 1922

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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A faint ache began to bloom in the muscles of your face from how hard you were smiling. You simply couldn’t help it. Every time you thought you’d gotten it under control, your eyes would just flutter back up to the man beside you as he stretched, reaching the paint roller in his hand far enough up to kiss the taped-off crown moulding that framed the ceiling, and each time he’d do so, his flannel would ride up just enough for you to catch a sliver of his skin before it dropped back down, giving you just enough of an unintentional tease to remind you of what he looked like beneath it.

“You’re laughing again,” Frank pointed out the soft giggle that bubbled out of you as your glance washed over him.

“I’m not laughing,” you gushed, straightening back up to your full height as you finally stopped rolling over the one low spot you had absentmindedly been painting over and over again for a few minutes or so.

Eyes briefly flickering your way, his feet carried him closer to you, “well, what’s so funny then that you can’t stop laughing?”

“Nothing’s funny,” you tried to keep your eyes on the wall as you felt his broadness brush against your shoulder.

“Oh, no?”

“Nope,” you playfully bumped your hip lightly against his, childishly angling your roller dangerously close to where his was glazing the wall a soft blue tone, an action that quickly developed into a juvenile game of chasing him across the wall.

To your amazement, Frank played along, keeping it going till he suddenly changed tactics and caught you by surprise, rerouting his roller down to collide with your own, however, it never got the chance to strike as you, in the midst of a giggle fit, retracted your brush from the wall, fearing that he would roll right over you and make your arm all sticky with paint. Though in the end, not noticing exactly where you were hastily withdrawing your paint roller to, it ended up being him that got smeared and not you.

“Oh my god,” your eyes grew wide at the sight of the blue that coated over the dark brown of his plaid sleeve, “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“Oh yeah?” he glared back at you, grin crinkling up his eyes, “you didn’t?”

“I swear, it was an accident.”

“Ah, sure it was, just like this,” you felt his roller glide down the length of your top, making it look like you’d hugged a smurf.

Letting out a shrieking gasp, it only took approximately two seconds before you pouched in an attempt to get him back. Though the former soldier’s swift hands caught your roller before you could manage to seize your revenge, settling both yours and his own down on the covered floors before playfully wrapping his arms around you, halting your attempts at retrieving it.

Laughter mingling and mixing into one, your feet then left the ground as Frank lifted you up. As your gaze now rose to be at the same level, the silly game swiftly vanished from your memory as you stared back into his brown eyes, both of your glee fading away as if it was never there to begin with.

You didn’t know who initiated the kiss, but that part couldn’t be less important as your arms curled around his neck and one of your legs blissfully bent, softly flicking your foot upwards as you felt his tongue sweep across your own.

Lowering you back down to the floor, his touch dragged up your form till his fingers tangled in your hair, tugging at the very roots in such a way that made you purr against his lips. Feet shuffling, the far wall you hadn’t begun on yet soon collided with your spine, though you weren’t pressed against it long before Frank surrendered to your enthusiastic efforts in spinning him around and switching places.

As your lips then detached, you slowly began to drop down to your knees, a wide grin warmed Frank’s features as your fingers hooked into his belt, “what do you think you’re doing, huh?” his head gently fell back to collide with the wall as he stared down at you in adoration.

“What do you think I’m doing?” you blinked up at him as you bit down on your giggling lips, palm nuzzling against his blossoming hard-on as you undid his belt, his excitement created an impressive imprint against the fabric of his dark jeans.

“I think we’re in an inn full of people and someone could walk in here at any moment,” he narrowed his eyes almost in a daring fashion as you tugged his zipper down.

“Oh please, there’s only one guest staying here right now, and even so, people know this room is under construction, who in their right mind would just willy-nilly waltz in here?”

Not tearing his eyes off of you for even a second as you freed his heavy length, he muttered softly, “you’re trouble…” utterly hypnotised as you wrapped your fingers around his girth.

“Nuh-uh,” you smiled up at him, “I’m adorable,” before you swiped your tongue softly over his tip, visibly sending a shiver down his spine.

“Yes, you fucking are…” he uttered enchantingly, mouth falling agape as you began to plant sweet kisses all the way down towards his base, your dazzling eyes never leaving his, “holy shit…”

As your slobber began to gloss him up, your palm exploited it as you slowly twisted your enclosed fist up and down his length, keeping your movements up as your lips soon wrapped around his bulbous head, flat tongue fluttering like a gentle sea against his throbbing underside.

Looking like he had died and gone to heaven, you felt as Frank’s fingers reach down to ghost over your features, his broad thumb caressing the outline of your face as your head began to bob, drool slowly dribbling down from your efforts and adding to the mess already painting the front of your shirt.

“Atta girl,” his fingers tenderly combed through your hair, “fuck,” lips stretched, his tip hit a place in the back of your throat that caused your eyes to squint, tears nearly appearing before you settled back to slobbering around his head, “you're so pretty like this.”

One hand steadily pumping the latter half of him, your other wandered over your own thigh. Like a magnet, your fingers pressed down on your clit through your pants, the astonishing relief causing a muffled moan to vibrate against Frank’s cock, a sensation he clearly enjoyed by the sounds of his own eager groans.

“Oh, just like that,” he grunted, eyes lightly fluttering as you gurgled around his cock, “don’t stop,” fingers flexing and balling up into a fist in your hair as he twitched in your mouth, soon stifling a mesmerising moan as he came down your throat, “fuck…”

Letting go of him with a soft pop, you swallowed as you gazed up at his hazy visage, feeling yourself drip and drench your panties from the borderline meditative motion of giving him head.

Hands still fast in your hair, Frank kneeled down to your level and pressed his lips to yours, the teasing touch you had going on over your pants quickly grew into something more desperate.

“Could you–…” you breathed heavily, “god, I feel like it’s been forever since you touched me…”

A warm chuckle rumbled out of him as he looked back into your blown pupils, “we fucked this morning,” he noted, rising back up and scooping you with him.

“Exactly,” you bit down on your smile, “it’s been like three hours.”

Slipping beneath your waistband, your grip fastened in the front of his open flannel as his fingers grazed through your wetness. Eyelids fluttering at the foggy sensation, Frank manoeuvred your frames, spinning you around and pressing your back against the wall.

“Well, I’m sorry that you had to wait that long,” he entertained your quip, rubbing your puffy clit just right, “whatever can I do to make it up to you?” his free hand securely snaked around your middle.

Sharing his breath, your nose nudged against his, “seems to me like you already have a pretty good idea of what could suffice.”

“Oh yeah?” he chuckled like a crackling fire, “could this maybe make you feel a bit better?” your hold on his shirt tightened as he gently slid one finger inside your dripping heat.

“Mhm,” you nodded hazily, one of your knees briefly lifting to graze against his leg.

As you readjusted your arms, draping them around his neck, “or how about this?” his lavish pace then intensified as he eased his ring finger in beside his middle one, curving them a bit as the root of his palm nuzzled firmly against your throbbing clit.

“O-oh, fuck!” your head fell back and collided with the wall, your fluttering gaze glued to his.

Leaning in to muffle your breathy whimpers with his kiss, the sensual soppy sound his efforts produced echoed throughout the half-painted room, those only growing in their volume as he rocked his digits within you rougher.

Moans melting against his tongue as it danced against your own, it didn’t take long before your pussy clenched down around him, clambering and inadvertently pulling his fingers in that much deeper as he slowed back down, rendering it a demanding task for him to get his hand back with the way you blissfully clung to it.

Head resting a moment against his broad shoulder as you caught your breath, your puffs gradually morphed into the same blissful giggle you hadn’t been able to shake just moments before.

“You know what?” you lifted your head.

“What?” he chuckled through his smile.

Tangling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, you rose up to your tip toes and uttered, “I don’t know if I can wait another three hours,” before you captured your lips in another heated kiss, your hands swiftly travelling south on a mission for more.

But just as Frank hoisted you up, your legs tangling around his hips, a booming voice from somewhere else in the inn cut through your haze.

“I did it!” you heard your father shout, his jovial stride caused the staircase he hastily ascended to creak just as loud as his boisterous words boomed, “I finally did it!”

“Shit,” you hissed, nearly pushing Frank away as you scrambled to hide any evidence of what the two of you had just done.

“I’m a genius! I think I’ve finally cracked the code to croissants!” the moustachioed man burst through the doors just as you rushed to pick your paint roller back up as if it had been glued to your grip for hours.

“Dad!” you skurried to roll some more blue on the wall, hoping he wouldn’t notice just how flustered you were, “hey!”

“I think I was handling the dough too much while laminating,” he rambled, flour tinting his apron a lighter shade of green, “also why I’ve never been great at pies, I fiddle with it too much, but I think I finally got the hang of it! Just pulled some out of the oven and they look amazing,” darting his dazzled gaze from you to Frank, he offered, “you kids want one?”

“Uh,” you glanced back at the man, still standing close to where you’d blown him just moments before, “sure,” you stiffly heard yourself agree, “that sounds lovely, dad.”

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discount-shades · 1 year

Text

Sleepy Baby: Part 14

a/n: There are only going to be about 4 more parts to this story I think.

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin / Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2000 ish

Summary: Kisses finally gets to pet a horse.

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The sound of a motor wakes you and you groan. “Is that a vacuum?” you mumble into Jake's chest.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “My mother will never directly wake a guest but she will make it known when she thinks you should get up. It’s 7:30,” he adds as an afterthought.

“I’ve turned you into a morning sleeper inner person,” you smile at him fondly. “You never used to sleep this late when we first got together”

He pulls you tighter. “I've been awake for a while actually.” He explains sheepishly. “I usually am, I like watching you sleep.”

You hide the sappy smile on your face against his chest. “That's either really creepy or romantic.”

“It's romantic.” Jake says and you can hear the grin in his voice.

“The same way it’s romantic that I wake up in your arms 90% of the time because if you don’t hold me still I beat you in my sleep?”

“Exactly,” he pecks you on the lips before rising from bed and you whine at the loss of warmth.

You follow Jake into the kitchen where Tammy has a big breakfast prepared. “I know you two are going trail riding later today so I wanted to make sure you had a big breakfast.” You eye the stacks of pancakes, fruit salad, scrambled eggs, and bacon. “I can make you an omelet if you’d like.”

“I’m sure this will be plenty.” You are not used to such extravagant breakfasts. Ian’s parents never made you breakfast and your own would usually stick to pancakes or bacon and eggs, never both. You help Tammy clean up and laugh at a story of how nine year old Jake almost burned the house down with a grease fire trying to make breakfast.

“It’s not funny,” Jake insists, “It was traumatizing. It took at least a decade before I tried cooking bacon again.”

“Is that why you always have that huge lid out when you make bacon?” you ask remembering the time you tried to put the clean lid on the counter away when he was cooking.

“Its risk management,” Jake insists, “and I stand by it.”

Soon the two of you are dressed in jeans, boots, and flannel shirts and heading next door. Stacy, Jake’s highschool girlfriend, had offered to give you riding lessons and lend the two of you horses to go riding on some local trails.

You were practically bouncing in your seat. “Jake, I’m going to pet a horse today!” You shake his arm in emphasis and he grabs you hand squeezing it. When you arrive Jake parks by the house and pulls your ball cap off your head and plops a brand new Stetson, that he pulled from the backseat, on your head.

“Now you look the part,” he says with a grin.

“Hey, it fits perfectly,” you say in amazement. You have a hard time finding hats that fit your head.

“Of course it fits,” he says, “I measured your head in your sleep.”

You are momentarily taken aback at the mental image of Jake measuring your head while you sleep but laugh it off. “You are supposed to measure your girlfriend's ring finger in her sleep,” you wiggle your empty ring finger in his face, “not her head.”

“Don't worry, I measured both.” A smile spreads across your face at that. Jake didn’t know it but you had been looking for a charging cord when yours had broken and looked in his bedside table and saw a ring box. You didn’t look inside and had quickly shut the drawer but you had been giddy with excitement.

You had gotten it in your head that you wanted Jake to have an engagement ring too and had bought a platinum band with XOXOXOs engraved on the interior. You had been carrying it around ever since trying to figure out when Jake was going to propose so you could propose to him at the same time. The ring was currently on a necklace tucked under your shirt.

With a timeline on your relationship, you and Jake had made frequent check-ins of where you both stood on marriage and it was looking like an engagement would happen soon.

Jake flicks the brim of your hat up and gives you a kiss before leading you down to a barn with an arena. A pretty blonde is waiting there with two horses saddled and standing sleepily in the morning sun. Jake introduces you and you smile at Stacy. “I have so many questions for you!”

She laughs, “I will give you all the dirt.”

“And I already regret introducing you.” Jake sighs.

Stacy motions you over, “this is Peanut,” she says patting the neck of a sorrel mare. “You’ll be riding her today.” You walk over and place your hand gently on the horse's warm neck, grinning ear to ear.

“Hi, pretty girl,“ you murmur. Stroking the smooth hair you turn to grin at Jake, “I’m petting a horse!” He pulls his phone out and snaps a picture of you before saying a quick goodbye and heading to the house to say hello to Stacy's parents. You turn back to Stacy and focus on her safety talk and the rundown of all the names of things.

“OK, head over to the mounting block.” She hands you Peanut’s reins and with a deep breath you walk over to the block of wood. Following Stacy’s instructions you are able to mount but it is anything but graceful. Stacy fixes your stirrups to the proper length and mounts the other horse and the two of you begin walking around the riding arena. Stacy gives you instructions and pointers as you go.

“How long have you known Jake?” you ask as you get the hang of riding at a walk.

“We met in diapers.” She states. “Our mothers were best friends, and our older sisters. We didn’t have the option to be anything else.”

“What was he like?” you are dying to know what child Jake was like.

“Honestly, kinda a pushover.” You laugh at that and Stacy clarifies, “I mean with most people he was fine and would stand up for himself, but if any of his sisters or I would ask him to do anything he would just agree.”

You smile softly, you think of your Jake and the way he goes all gentle on you. The way he lets you take the lead and the way he is always checking in with you. “Yeah, that tracks,” you grin at Stacy.

“He only didn’t listen when we told him not to do something dangerous,” Stacy adds. “He broke his leg jumping off that shed.” She points to a single story building in the distance. “I was close enough to hear the crack.” You wince. “And he broke his arm riding his bike down Thompsons Hill, I didn’t hear it that time.”

“Makes sense that he would become a pilot then.” you say thinking of your very safe and not at all daredevil childhood and very safe profession.

“Except none of us ever told him not to become one, he just did it on his own.” You smile at that. “Come on, let's try you at a trot.”

After an hour of lessons Jake joins you. “Ready to go on a trail ride?” he asks and you nod. Jake lengthens the stirrups of the horse Stacy was riding and puts the picnic lunch he brought from his parents in the saddle bags. He mounts and heads for the trails at the back of the property. Peanut follows Jake without much coaxing from you and the two of you head out.

You can’t keep a grin off your face as you and Jake ride along. “This is the best.” You look over at Jake, “I’m definitely doing this again!”

“And here I thought I dodged marrying a horse girl.” Jake tried to sigh in disappointment but his grin at your enjoyment gave him away. Total pushover.

“So where are we going?” You had not thought to ask earlier.

“It's a surprise.” Jake gives you a mischievous grin. And you smile back just happy to be with him.

After a few hours you arrive at a small waterfall that tumbles into a swimming hole. “Oh,” you softly gasp out. There are trees lining the river shading the whole area. “It's beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Jake agrees, looking at you.

The two of you dismount and you groan at the stiffness in your legs laughing at your bow legged stance. “I’ll water the horses and tie Peanut up for you,” Jake grins, “You walk around a bit to loosen up.” You hand him the reins and wander around the clearing until your legs feel like they are moving normally. You flop next to Jake on grass in the shade where he has laid out a picnic.

Jake takes your hat off and crawls over your prone form grinning down at you. “You know, the only way in is the trail we took so we should be alone.”

“Alone you say,” and pull his lips to yours.

The kiss quickly turns heated and flips you so you are straddling him. His hands move from cupping your cheek to ghosting down your body and sliding up your sides under your shirt. “Take it off,” you murmur. And he is quick to undo the buttons, kissing his way down your chest as you gasp for breath. Your hands are on his chest, unbuttoning his shirt.

Suddenly Jake pulls back and stills. He is staring intently at the ring resting in the dip between your breasts. “What's that?” His green eyes are unreadable. His hands are clutching your hips, holding you firmly against him.

“Shit,” you mumble, “this isn’t how I wanted to do this.” Jake's eyes fly to yours and you can see the nervousness in his expression and feel the tension in his body. You fumble with the necklace and remove the ring.

Holding it out to him you smile, “Jake Seresin, you have become the most important person in my life. I love every minute we spend together, even when you piss me off, and I know there will be times we can't be together but having you as my future will be worth it.” His jaw is open and he is staring up at you in awe, realizing what is happening. “Jake, will you–”

Jake's lips cut you off. His hands are everywhere and his lips do not leave yours. The ring is clutched in your hand and your arms wrap around his neck holding him close. He has rolled you underneath him again before he finally raises his head to grin down at you. “Yes, Kisses,” his lips meet yours again. “I’ll marry you.”

You grin up at him impishly. “That's great, Jake but I never made it to asking that question.” you glance over at the water bottles beside you. “I was going to ask you to pass me some water.” You point at the water like it’s obvious, unable to keep the joy from your face.

“I’ll fix this," he mutters rolling his eyes and stands abruptly, heading over to the saddlebags on his horse, you sit up to watch him. He grabs something and returns to you dropping down on one knee in front of you holding up the open ring box.

“Kisses, you are a cheeky pain in the ass sometimes, like right now,” you laugh, your cheeks hurting from smiling so hard. ”You have consumed every waking thought of mine since I met you over a year ago. And the moments keep getting better, the day I found you, our first kiss, when you told me you loved me, the day we moved in together, today. Everything with you keeps getting better and better. So Kisses, will you–”

You lean forward, trying to cut him off with a kiss like he did to you, but Jake sees the look on your face and leans back. “–marry me?”

“Yes,” you pull him into a kiss. “I’ll marry you Jake.”

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin/reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman #hangman/reader #hangman top gun #top gun hangman

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peterparkersnose · 1 year

Text

Christmas Vibes

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: nostalgia, age gap, horrible attempt to capture joel’s accent (fuck), just christmas fluff :)

a/n this kicks off my joel stories in preperation for tlou show on hbo max starting jan 15! enjoy and have a happy holidays. please tell me you understand the vibe aspect (triangle, purple, thursday, the number 4, blueberry pie) bc if not i am just really undiagnosed.

summary Joel tries to make Christmas special for Y/N once again

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 4 mins 59 seconds

“It’s snowing,” you sighed, looking at your reflection in your window. The street lamp lights outside were plagued with the falling snow.

“Never liked winter,” Joel shuttered, taking off his jeans. You heard his belt clank as it hit the hamper. “Really? Not even Christmas?” you asked, playing with a strand of your hair with your gaze still locked outside.

“Sarah always loved it. I liked seeing her happy so I tolerated it.” Joel sighed. You could see the reflection of his flannel pajama pants in the window. You were touched that he mentioned Sarah. He rarely did. Even if you slept in the same room with that eerie photo of the two of them together staring at you, you never dared pushing the subject.

“What did she like?” you asked, testing the waters. “Hmm,” Joel thought. “When she was real young she loved Santa. Her grandpa would come around every year dressed up as ‘em. I’ll never forget her face every year when he would come.”

You nodded, not sure what to say. “I miss Christmas.” you sighed, sitting down next to Joel in the bed. “How many did you get? Before…”

“12.” you sighed. “My mom would always go out and cut us down a tree. I sometimes think about the smell of a real tree. It’s much different when the tree is in the woods versus your living room. I miss it. Every time it gets cold like this, my memories come back and it makes me hate this damned broken world even more.” you sighed, laying down on your back and staring at the ceiling.

“We always had fake trees,” Joel commented, flicking off the lamp. He was unsure on how to respond to you, so he tried to take your mind off the bitterness of the memories.

“You give fake tree vibes.” you told Joel, reaching for his hand in the sheets. “How can one give fake tree vibes?” “You just do.” “Explain?” he asked, grabbing your hand tightly “There’s no explanation. Just like how Maria gives off former yoga teacher vibes,”

He stopped and thought for a moment. “Well I’ll be damned, she really do.” “Told ya.” “Go to sleep,” he sighed. “She most definitely had a pixie cut when the world wasn’t shit,” you added.

“Where does your mind come up with these things?” Joel chuckled. “Ellie and I had a very intense conversation about it on patrol a few days ago. Just like how Tommy gives off cinnamon raisin bread vibes.”

“Stop that,” Joel insisted, shuffling in bed. “It’s too accurate. Freakin’ me out.”

“Maybe she has a dragonfly tattoo too. Somewhere special where only Tommy knows. Very yoga teacher-ish.”

“Go to bed Y/N.” Joel huffed, slamming his eyes shut.

Joel didn’t even know why he was doing this. He didn’t even like Christmas when the world was still normal.

But he liked you sure of a hell lot more than he hated Christmas.

His back ached as he dragged the tree through the gates of Jackson. He had picked out the greenest tree he could find and cut it down. The horse would have been useless with a close to 120 pound tree (he estimated).

“Need some help?” Tommy chuckled, arms crossed amused watching his brother lug in a tree. “S’pose I could,” he hissed at him, dragging the stem of the tree against the dirt ground. “All this for a woman?” Tommy asked, lifting the muddy end of the tree. “Your tellin’ me you wouldn’t do this for Maria?” “Maria wouldn’t want it,” “Well if she did?”

Tommy paused for a second to think. “Hell no,”

The tree barely fit in the door to your house. Joel cringed at all the needles he was going to have to pick up after this.

“Got her in?” Tommy asked, entering the house with the end of the tree still in his grips.

Tommy saw the makeshift tree holder and set the tree in the metal hole. Joel propped it up, holding the tree up for Tommy to bolt the tree to the metal plate.

The two of them now out of breathe took a step back to see the enormous tree.

“I think you may have underestimated the size of your house, big brother.” Tommy said, patting Joel on the back.

Joel’s eyes were glued to the top of the tree pressed against the ceiling and jutting outward.

His arms were crossed with one hand rubbing his brow. “She’s gonna hate it,” he muttered. “I think it’s rather cute. Quirky if you ask me. She likes that shit, don’t she?” Tommy re assured his brother.

“Should I cut it?” Joel asked. “Nah. You went out and did the dirty work. If she doesn’t appreciate it, she doesn’t deserve it. I always got a lighter if you need it.” he suggested.

Joel swept the needles up from the ground in preparation of your return. You had spent the day distracted by Ellie. The kids were having a winter festival down in the square and you two were volunteering.

Joel most definitely owed Ellie one after this.

He found the red and green blankets from storage and placed them on the couch. Holiday decorations were rare to find (minus halloween) and he was trying his best.

He was in the middle of fluffing the pillows when he heard the old door creek open.

A sudden gasp came from you as your hand clasped over your mouth. “What is this?” you asked, a smile widening on your face.

“I know it ain’t perfect, I didn’t measure right but it’s…”

“Joel, it’s perfect.” you insisted, wrapping your hands around the man who was cowering in embarrassment. “It’s too tall, the tree ain’t right.”

“Shh,” you shushed him, wrapping an arm around his rib cage. “I love it,” you muffled into his chest.

“Oh!” you said, suddenly realizing what you had done that day.

You and Ellie had made strings of snowflakes all day with the kids.

The white paper cut outs strung perfectly around the tree.

“Careful there,” Joel said, balancing you as you stood on your tippy toes to reach the top. “Ready?” he asked.

“Ready for-”

Joel hoisted you up by your waist erupting a squeal from you. “Joel!” you laughed, squirming in his reach.

“String…‘em,” he demanded with his raspy voice, struggling holding you in his grip. As you strung the paper around the branches, needles dropped down. Specifically on Joel.

“What are you doing?” you asked after hearing the noise of Joel spitting. “Them damn needles- in my face.” he grunted, finally letting you down.

A tiny laugh came from you as you faced him once again. “What’s so funny?” he asked. You carefully plucked the stray needles out of his bushy eyebrows, making sure they didn’t fall in his eyes. “All better now,” you smiled, kissing him on the cheek.

“I’m surprised your not covered in sap,” you commented, sitting down on your comfy couch in Joel’s arms. You handed him his cup of coffee. “Showered ‘for you got home,”

“What if I wanted you covered in sap?” you asked, staring up at the tree. “What?” Joel asked, confused. “So I could have washed it off of ya.”

Joel sucked his teeth. “It’s a damn shame,” he sighed, taking a sip of his coffee.

“And you brought this in all by yourself?” you asked, grabbing Joel’s bicep. “Mhm,” he lied, taking Tommy’s credit. “My strong man,” you said, folding closer into his body.

“Thank you, Joel.” you sighed, remembering the previous night. “It’s just like old times.” “Well, I’m glad you like it,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

“It gives off Christmas vibes,” Joel said, very proud of himself. “Yes Joel, sure. It gives Christmas vibes.” You chuckled, enamored at his attempt to understand your humor.

“Just like how Ellie gives off the vibe that she can only wear red socks on a Friday.”

“Stop that shit already,”

“And how when the world wasn’t like this, Tommy probably had shit credit.”

“He did,” Joel laughed. “Stop it now, your still freaking me out.”

“You brought it up!”

“Yeah, because it was funny when I did it.”

“Yes Joel. Hilarious.”

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @samanthacookieone @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry

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pigeonwit · 9 months

Note

hi hi first let me just say you are absolutely my FAVORITE Javid writer and I love reading ur work while kicking my feet and giggling

and if u are still taking ideas for the cozy+content prompts could I maybe request “what’s wrong?” “your feet are cold!” with Davey having very cold hands and feet and Jack warming him up

so fun fact these two asks both gave me heart attacks when i first read them. i am not wired to receive compliments it makes me short circuit. but thank you! thank you very much!! i hope you don't mind me shoving these two asks together - i had an idea in mind for the first and the only thing i could come up with for the second was essentially along the same lines but with jack at the centre, and my jack voice is,,, not accurate imo. so i hope you enjoy it!

(also. um. i fully intended this on being a silly fluffy tumblr minific and it became 3000 words by mistake so. sorry bout that)

Davey’s already shuffling eagerly in bed when he hears Jack opening their creaky apartment door. He’s curled up in bed beneath two extra blankets with his knees up to his chest, and he’s still got a chill in his fingertips. It’s manageable, of course, but Jack gives him some much more than what’s manageable, and it’s safe to say Davey’s become a bit spoiled for it. There’s a quiet thrum of something through his body, a wash of comfort over his skin, as he hears Jack’s steps approaching. Soon, is all his sleepy mind is saying. Warm soon. Jack soon. Soon.

Jack stumbles into their room – Davey can’t help but smile into the pillow as he thinks it, their room – uncaffeinated and no doubt bone-tired, but Davey still makes out his soft and pleased hum when he sees him, huddled up under their blankets.

“Davey, darling,” Jack sighs over the slight jangling of him shucking off his jeans, “you are a sight for sore eyes.”

“Long day?” Davey mumbles, his voice muffled by the chunk of comforter he’s stuffed over his face to keep his nose from freezing. He feels more than hears Jack’s resonating groan, and he knows from reflex alone that Jack’s got his head tipped all the way back as he grumbles loudly at the ceiling, determined for the whole world to know that he is upset, thank you, and is going to make it everyone’s problem.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Jack says petulantly – Davey can hear a soft brushing of fleece on skin as he steps into his sweatpants. “Fuckin’ lecture hall was freezing, I think all my pens have turned into ink-cicles – oh, but of course old Professor Asshole-”

“Ashcombe.”

“He’s not even your professor, Dave, you don’t gotta do the teachers pet thing.” Says Jack, and Davey can hear the smile wrapped around the words. If it were anyone else, he might freeze, his brain backfiring as it turns the words over and over and over again, running through every possible implication – but he knows where he stands with Jack. They play with each other – but they don’t hurt each other.

“Anyway, the asshole kept his whole ‘no coats and jackets’ policy because apparently my phone’s wrong and it’s actually the nineteenth century or whatever the hell,” Jack continues, his voice muffling slightly as he tears his shirt over his head, “even made me take off my flannel, which is, like, hello? Since when is a flannel a jacket? Dude’s a dinosaur.”

Davey makes a small, humming laugh – he’s still all tied up in his cold-protective ball, arms and knees hugged to his chest, so it’s all he can really manage. He loves the way Jack just talks. Talks and talks like it’s his God given right to comment on every little thing, not bothering to stop for silly things like changing his clothes and climbing into bed. It’s nice, knowing Jack wants to tell him every little thing. Knowing he’ll listen if Davey does, too.

“Maybe he likes seeing all you handsome young artists without your layers on.” Davey points out, trying to lilt his voice playfully, but the slight chatter in his teeth makes it come out stilted. “One of those repressed Republican things, y’know?”

“Aw, c’mon, Davey, ew!” Jack snickers as he clambers under the covers, flopping down with all his weight like a great big cat ready for a well-deserved nap. “God, I’m gonna think that every time I see him now.”

“Another patented Davey-Brainworm.” Davey says with a smile as they shuffle towards each other without any hesitation, pulled into each-others gravity. “You can have that one for free.”

“And I guess I got what I paid for.” Jack scoffs before promptly shoving his face into the bend of Davey’s neck like he lives there – Davey sighs, bone-deep, as he arches into the warmth of Jack’s nose, his mouth, his soft breath on Davey’s skin. He unwinds his balled-up arms, wincing a little at the numbness, until he’s got them tangled through Jack’s own and wrapped around his waist, pulling him close enough that they slot against each other. Jack sighs long and slowly through his nose, nuzzling against Davey’s shoulder as he winds around him.

“Jeez-us, I needed this,” he sighs as Davey unlocks his knees and wraps them between Jack’s own. “Been so fuckin’ tense all day, like my spine’s just – fuck!”

Jack jolts upright like he’s been shocked right through the spine, tearing himself out of their comfortable cuddle-pile, and Davey can’t help his unhappy whine.

“Jesus, Dave!”

“What?” Davey blinks, suddenly very, very awake. “What’s wrong?”

“Your feet are cold!” Jack cries, as if Davey has committed the world’s greatest sin. Davey rolls his eyes and grins, pushing his toes against Jack’s calves.

“Are they?”

“God – fuck, Davey, no, you’re not being cute about this.” Jack says firmly. “Where are your socks?”

Davey feels his shoulders hunch up to his neck. This isn’t right – Jack usually loves joking around with him. But now it feels like he’s being scolded, and if there’s one thing Davey hates more than scolding, it’s being scolded by Jack. Jack’s not meant to make him feel like a child, neither of them are – it’s how they work. It’s like breaking a rule, their big rule, and it rolls in Davey’s stomach like bile.

“I don’t like socks.” Davey mutters. “They scratch. You know that.”

Jack looks like he’s about to open his mouth, then blinks for a moment, trying to meet Davey’s eyes from where they’re burning into their sheets.

“I do know that.” Jack nods slowly. “Sorry, I wasn’t – I didn’t mean…” He sighs, sliding his hand forwards enough to bump against where Davey’s fingers are tangling in the bedlinens. “Davey, you’re cold. Why didn’t you turn the heating on?”

Davey scoffs, still feeling stung, and then immediately winces, because wasn’t that a petty, childish thing to do? No wonder Jack’s frustrated.

“We don’t need it, Jack, it’s summer.” He reasons. Jack only stares at him with a flat faced and raised brow, sending a flush up high on Davey’s cheeks.

“It is barely April, Davey,” Jack says, gently this time, because gentleness comes so naturally to him. “I know you’re bad with dates and all, but that’s a pretty big difference.”

Davey’s throat clicks as he tries to work his mouth, but he’s all caught off guard by Jack being cute, damn him.

“We don’t need it.” He echoes, but even he can tell the sound is distant. He can feel the way Jack’s looking at him as he says it, and he can’t help but roll his eyes. “Oh, come on, Jack, that’s not – it’s almost May, it’s warm out-”

“It’s April sixth, forty-four degrees and raining-”

“I know how to take care of myself, Jack!” Davey snaps before he can help it. Jack flinches backwards, one hand raised up reflexively – then pauses, swallows, eyes still wide, but body less taut. Davey shifts until he’s sitting properly, head ducked low between his shoulders.

“I’m sorry.”

Jack nods slowly, still not looking at him.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.” Davey says firmly. “We don’t yell at each other.”

Jack sighs, eyes so painfully soft, and nudges closer until their shoulders brush together. Davey takes the olive branch like a dog with a bone, melts into Jack’s side and crushes one hand against Jack’s chest like he might disappear.

“Hey.” Jack says quietly, nudging Davey’s temple with his nose until he looks up. “Tell me things.”

Davey’s lip quirks upwards without his permission.

“Things.” He says dutifully. Jack only watches him, the way he’d watch a painting on a wall, trying to unpick the colours and untangle the strokes, trying to weave himself into the frame and figure it all out, inside and outwards.

“I just-” Davey sighs, biting down on his lip. Jack’s quiet. He lets him click the words together in his head, puzzle them out. “I don’t… I don’t need it. And I don’t like it when people tell me what to do, like I’m stupid.”

Jack makes a dissatisfied noise in his chest, curling his arm around Davey’s waist.

“You know I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“I know. M’sorry.” He mumbles into Jack’s chest, hot shame burning at his neck. “That was… Mean.”

“S’okay, baby.”

“We’re not mean to each other.”

“There’s a difference between being frustrated and being mean.” Jack says firmly. “That’s what you always tell me when I stay up ‘til 2AM painting, or when I’m tearin’ my hair out after work, or-“

“That’s different, though.”

“It’s really not.” Jack insists, and Davey’s about to disagree with him when he just barely rakes his nails along Davey’s scalp, just the way he likes, and sends him melting into Jack’s bones, the cheater. “Things ain’t different when they happen to you, babe. You’re allowed to be frustrated.” He dots a tiny kiss to Davey’s temple, holds him ever closer, presses the dorsum of his feet against Davey’s own. “You’re allowed to be warm, too.”

Davey winces, glancing towards their bedroom door where he knows the thermostat's waiting, mocking him.

“I was getting to it…” He tries weakly – Jack only raises an eyebrow.

“You get home an hour before I do. And your last class was cancelled today.”

Davey clicks his teeth. Right. Yes. Curse Jack and his intimate knowledge of Davey’s entire life. He must make a face, because Jack sighs, presses a hand to where his neck meets his jaw and tilts him upwards so that they’re looking at each other, so that all of Jack’s openness is laid out in front of him – and that’s just unfair, really, because how is Davey meant to lie when Jack’s doing that?

“C’mon, Dave,” Jack says softly, his voice low and warm, “you don’t need to do this anymore. You don’t gotta shiver in the fetal position just to get warm, you don’t gotta take showers that are, like, one notch above lukewarm and time them for seven minutes, don’t even try denying it,” he adds the second Davey opens his mouth, “you have the timer pinned on your phone.”

Davey curses under his breath. Damn his useless brain’s need for consistent organization. Jack keeps staring at him, keeps waiting for him to stay something, and Davey wants to be furious at him for it, wants him to just leave off and leave him alone and let him do what he’s always done, but… That’s not fair. Not when he’s always bugging Jack into doing better. Into sleeping on time and eating a proper lunch and warming up his wrists before he paints. They help each other. That’s what they do.

“It just…” Davey says quietly, struggling to push the words out from where they’re hiding beneath his tongue. “It’s hard. Like – at home? We couldn’t just… Do that. And it feels so – weird, a-and wrong to just do that here, when I know Aba’s still wearing long-johns to under his clothes all day and Ima’s still budgeting their hot water and-”

“Breathe.” Jack murmurs – Davey immediately sucks in a breath, suddenly realizing the way his whole body’d been straining for it without his notice. He screws his eyes shut and plants his face against Jack’s shoulder, like he might be able to hide from Jack’s gaze entirely. Jack only smiles – Davey can tell even without seeing it. He knows the little noise Jack makes when he’s smiling, even if he’s displeased, that little hum that gets tugged out from the base of his throat with the movement.

“Davey, baby,” Jack says gently – if Davey can repeat himself, your honour, unfair. “You don’t need you to freeze every night to prove that you understand the value of money. You’re good. We’re good. We can afford to put the thermostat up one night.”

Davey sighs. He knows this. Logically, he knows it. But Davey’s not the best with logic, no matter what all their friends think – it gets too tied up in all his nerves, all his thoughts, until it’s bent into something completely different. The sentiment’s still there at the heart of it, but – well, that’s just it. But. He knows he can afford to turn up the thermostat in his own home – but…

“I could deal with it.” He mumbles, a bit too childishly. “I could.”

“I know, baby.” He can feel Jack’s gentle smile in his hair. “But you don’t have to.”

“But-”

“But you don’t have to.”

Davey groans, more for the performance of it than anything else.

“Jack…” He mutters – but Jack only blinks at him expectantly. Not pushing. Just waiting. Davey tips his head back and sighs long-sufferingly, screwing his eyes shut once before turning back to glare in Jack’s direction.

Jack only blinks again.

“Will you please,” Davey says, trying to sound only a little bit irritated, but there’s no denying how quiet he sounds, barely audible even in the silence of their room. “Turn up the thermostat for me?”

Jack smiles at him gently, pushing an errant curl from his face.

“Of course, baby.”

He doesn’t let it linger – he gets up, stretches his arms over his head, snips the tension away in one neat cut, and Davey loves him for it. He leaves the door open as he hops through the living room with his feet still bare, wincing over every other step, because Jack is a man on a mission when he’s decided to cheer people up, and he simply doesn’t have the time for frivolous things like socks or slippers or common fucking sense. Davey rolls his eyes; he really does love him for it.

“Right.” Jack nods to himself as he shifts the thermostat up a good few notches, bouncing on his toes once – his Dad Bounce as Davey’s dubbed it privately in his head, because even if he’s only joking, Davey’s not quite sure they’re anywhere near bringing up the word dad yet. Still, it’s heartwarmingly cute. “That’s goin’ good. Shove up, would’ja?”

Jack bustles around their apartment like the mother hen he is, taking a spare comforter from their closet, then all the blankets he can carry, and dumps them all on the Davey-shaped lump in their bed, entirely ignoring Davey’s squeak of protest. He hurries to and from their closet, their desks, their living room, snatching every pillow and plushie and throw he can find, dumping them all unceremoniously on and around Davey’s body.

“Jack-!” Davey yelps as Jack stuffs a whole Joltik plush over his face, but he can’t help but laugh at the absurdity. “What’re you doing?”

“One second!” Jack says dismissively as he fiddles with the fabrics, scrunching up the comforters into a circle around them, then filling it all in with every fucking blanket they own – Davey’s Middle Earth map, the quilt Medda made of all Jack’s childhood shirts, the weighted blanket they bought together on a whim, and the leaf-shaped throw that neither of them remember buying at all. He props all the pillows and plushes he can against the headboard, even the giant fluffy pumpkin they bought on a whim at Target because they couldn’t be bothered with pumpkin guts that Halloween – it’s bigger than both their heads and they love it – and once he’s done, he nods to himself, satisfied with his work, and all but launches himself into the nest he’s made for them.

“Oh-!” Davey huffs as Jack knocks all the air out of his chest. “God, Jack, this is ridiculous-”

“Ridiculously fun, thank you,” Jack grins as he starts bullying Davey into the little hollow between the pillows he’s fashioned for them, “now quiet, or I’m adding your beanbag.”

“Jaaack,” Davey whines, even as he allows Jack to flop firmly onto his chest like a sleepy old hound dog, pinning him into place. “We’re gonna get sweaty.”

“Then we can kick ‘em all off.” Jack answers with a self-satisfied grin. “But for now, you’re gonna warm up. Cool?”

“Technically, no.”

“I’ll kill you.” Jack huffs, and Davey can’t help but laugh into his hair. Jack’s head is resting against the crest of his sternum, a constant pressure anchoring him to the bed – and his whole body is plastered against Davey’s own, painting sunny yellows and warm oranges across his skin until he’s glowing from the inside out, safe in their little bubble of comfort.

“Jack?”

“No,” Jack grumbles into his chest. “Jack’s dead. He froze to death in class and Professor Asshole is writing him up for it.”

“Oh, shame,” Davey sighs, slathering his voice in fake-concern. “Is he gonna be okay?”

“Give him, like, two hours. And a hot cocoa.”

“Mm, that is the standard procedure, I hear.”

Jack digs his chin into the hollow of Davey’s chest, glaring up at him in a manner so very wronged that Davey has to try not to laugh, lest he disturb Jack any further.

“Davey?”

“Hm?” Davey smiles innocently.

“Go to sleep.”

Davey rolls his eyes, but obediently tips his head back against the pillows, running one hand down Jack’s spine and trailing his finger over the dip in the centre.

“I was just gonna say,” he says quietly into the pleasantly toasty air of their bedroom, “thanks for taking care of me.”

There’s silence, for a moment. Soft, comfortable silence, the kind that rests pleasantly on the ear. Welcoming and unjudgmental. And then he feels a press of warm lips against his breastbone, melting through his shirt, through his skin, all the way down to his heart.

“Welcome.” Jack murmurs. “Now go to sleep before I hit you.”

Davey rolls his eyes and tucks Jack’s head into his neck, one hand rubbing tiny circles into his scalp and the other tracing poetry into the small of his back.

(They wake up swelteringly hot, sweating through their PJs, a plushie sandwiched between both their faces and half of Jack’s spoils kicked onto the floor in their sleep.

It’s okay, Davey tells himself. He’s allowed to sweat every now and then.

And when Jack looks up at him, grinning bashfully and snickering against his skin, Davey decides he’s allowed that, too.)

#all of these prompt-fics have been so frothy and fluffy and self indulgent and I! DO NOT! CARE!#(<- cares so much actually but is being so so brave about it)#newsies #uksies #(its ALWAYS uksies. i know i didn't mention it much in this one but it's ALWAYS uksies.)#javid #javey #davey jacobs #david jacobs #jack kelly #pigeon scribbles #honeyywoods #ask #anon

44 notes · View notes

fountainpenguin · 5 months

Text

"Pretend to be sweet! Speak with a smile... Even if you're mad, play it cool for a while..." (x)

---

New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 15 - “Scald (Ren, Jimmy, Scar)”

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

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While Impulse prowls in search of Bdubs, life goes on. Ren, Joel, Jimmy, Tango, and Cleo get along in their respective spheres. And Scar? ... Well, since Etho never showed up for Session 2, Scar's teamed with a bunch of other explorers to tackle a cave adventure. With a group that large, it's only a matter of time before hunters turn on quarries...

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

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Renthedog - Chicken

Quarry: ZombieCleo

Hunter: Smajor1995

Allegiance: Unaffiliated

💚 💛 ❤️

"Hey." Is that a weird thing to say to a guy you haven't seen since his particles dissolved? He looks better now, standing with his hands in his hoodie pockets. In traditional Joel fashion, he got a new outfit for Session 2. The hoodie's sky blue. Puffy pastel letters spell out Glitch Survivor down the front, surrounded by four hearts, several azaleas, and little sparkles.

Skizzleman stole the traits of Tropical Fish

Actually, the whole thing looks glittery. It's childish and goofy and he looks snug and content, like Ren didn't catch him staring at his reflection for a little too long while they changed in the shower house. Ren has questions (which will go unanswered) regarding what went on between Joel's boss and the skin designers in the community mere days ago.

Not that I'm one to talk. I'm going all-in on the farmer's aesthetic this time around. It just sort of happened to him. Honestly? Can't complain, dude. The flannel shirt is comfy, the jeans aren't so bad, and the whole vibe fits his familiar suspenders pretty well. He's half worried he'll overheat, so he keeps rolling the sleeves back to his elbows.

If he were to put it into words, he's playing into that vibe of all the world in chaos while he serves smiles and escapism in his pretty little garden. In fact, Ren gets up from the muck, taking out a handkerchief to wipe dirt form his hands, and walks over to join Joel by the fence. He leans against it. Joel tilts his head. He's got little panda ears.

"'Hey' yourself, Ren. Ooh, look at you working hard in the chaos game."

"Thanks, man. You're looking good on green again; nice, nice- A+ material."

Skizzleman stole the traits of Salmon

"Yeah, Grian kicked me back up since, y'know… the whole 'creeper glitch' wasn't meant to happen and I did get my proper quarry kill." Joel points two thumbs at the bubbly text across his chest. "He'd better watch his ruddy little backend, though, because I intend to hit purple before I see yellow again. This order is tall, but so am I." His eyes roam behind Ren, wandering the other side of the fence. His fingers tap together inside his hoodie pocket. "Got quite a bit of wheat there, haven't you?"

"Wheat?" He keeps his tone light and friendly, but repeats the word 'wheat' to make it undeniable what he's referring to. "Take a bit if you like; leave something if you want. It's my community garden. This, my friend, is a safe space." He glances left and right, then leans forward, dipping his voice. He even lifts one hand to catch his words, though no one seems to be around eavesdropping. "Seems to me like you're less likely to get sniped off if your would-be murderer knows you'll respawn a few blocks away to have your revenge! And lay waste to them completely where they stand!"

Joel lifts both brows, curious but flat-mouthed. "Eeeh… Not the most exciting content for you, is it? I mean… You could achieve the same thing by lurking near your base. Or plopping your bed down anytime you anticipate a fight, if you wanna be some sort of freak… Also, I'm pretty sure you can't strike your hunter back if you drop from green life to yellow? You're still yellow, right? That's a passive color."

bigbst4tz2 stole the traits of Creeper Skizzleman stole the traits of Turtle

"… Look, it's cool, okay? Spawn's cool." Ren gestures sideways, flapping the handkerchief. "I'm in my peaceful arc right now. Spawn shall be the most beautiful place to rest one's head!"

Joel looks around, skeptic impatience dancing on his lips. Spawn isn't technically a peninsula, but it stands on a raised, flat bit of land overlooking the rushing river. The wind's gusty up here, bamboo and jungle trees swishing. Ren's got his hidden chickens and pigs.

Thus far, his play session consists mostly of bartering with Scott and Skizz for the right to breed their sheep. They helped him lead the sheep back in return for the right to take two chickens, and the haughty stare in Scott's gaze warned Ren that he wouldn't hesitate to kill every animal in his underground hidey-hole, regardless of what killing so many and swapping traits that many times in a row would do to his stomach. He needs to move them. The Sushi Boys know where they are right now and that's not a good strat.

GoodTimesWithScar stole the traits of Enderman

"Peaceful, yeah," Joel says. He leans against the fencepost, cupping his cheek in one hand. Well, one panda paw. "Say… Any chance I could pull you away from your work for a couple hours, mate? Promise it'll be worth your while."

"Oh?"

"You got shovels?" Joel summons his own to his hand with a flick of the wrist. It's stone, unimpressive, but he taps it against the edge of the fence like it's made of netherite. "I'm thinking we go about digging up sand. It won't be a monopoly, but Grian always makes a grab at it, and I think yoinking it before he tries will be the best strat."

"… Seems like he'll come after you once he realizes you've got it."

"Hope he does. I want him-" Joel makes a shhhhluck! sound, gliding the shovel scoop across his own throat. "You get me? Come on; we'll make a game of it."

Ren frowns, one ear twitching like he's got a flea. He tries not to glance at the place he hid his animals, though that means jerking his eyes back to Joel as they start to drift sideways. "Well… It sounds like you might be luring me away for a bit of thievery-"

"Oh, like you've got better plans today. You and your smelly little farm, your smelly little livestock…"

So he's already aware of them. He's not trying to fake me out. Ren lifts his hands. "All right; you've convinced me. Let's have ourselves a dig, my friend." For the sake of content creation. For the sake of getting out of his own head, too… Apart from his visit to Scott and Skizz, he's pretty much been gardening all day long. He's got an inventory full of bread and a back-up chest to boot.

And I know I'm not his quarry…

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]

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yourstruleejn · 2 years

Text

crush.ing

summers are mostly the same. spending them each year on the island your family has a vacation home on. there is little variety to the things you do every year. however, one party at jay park’s later and everything seems to be different /especially what you’re feeling/

⋆

pairing // lee heeseung x fem! reader; other characters include enhypen members and le sserafims huh yunjin + kim chaewon

genre // fluff and crack (maybe); richkid! au; summer romance !!

word count // 9.4 k

tw // implied sexual activities + mentions of sex; underage drinking (only if you’re not european and you’re name is riki nishimura)

playlist // here

authors note // my first enhypen fic!! i like this one!! enjoy!!!! and pls tell me what you think bc i had so much fun writing this hehe!

!!! reminder !!! everything i write about on here is entirely fictional and in no way am i saying this is how the boys would act in real life ❥

chapter 1: sandy campgrounds

Waves. The sound of crashing waves was the first thing you remember before a blaring headache set in. The next thing you felt was a clearly too-thin blanket or towel covering your body, the same fabric served as mattress beneath you, placed over what couldn’t be anything but sand. You scrunched your eyebrows together, maybe yolo-ing last night was not the best idea. Especially since, even if you did only live once, most of the time the next day was included in the `once`, and now having made it to yesterday’s tomorrow you regretted every drink after the second cup of Jay Parks Wonder Punch. But all of that put aside, why was waves the first thing you heard?

Only with effort were you able to open your eyes against the bright morning sky. What time was it? And what were you doing on the beach? A groan left your mouth as you sat up, your back was considerably stiff after apparently sleeping on the beach. Looking at the empty sandy scape in front of you, you concluded that it must be still somewhat early. Not a single soul was out, barely any traces were leading to the seemingly infinite blue and you concluded that those traces had to have been there from last night still. For exactly one second a small smile crept its way to your features, even your headache was almost forgotten: the pounding lessening considerably as you took one deep breath after the other, admiring the ocean. One second the smile rested on your lips, one second there was peace in your mind. One second, until something, well someone, stirred beside you.

In horror you turned your head to your left: there was a boy laying next to you. Your mind started to race. Moments ago, your brain was maybe a little confused about your whereabouts, but essentially you were appreciating the unexpected morning view, but now? Now you were stressing about how you ended up in this situation, who exactly the boy was, and why you were wearing so little clothes?

At least the second question would be answered just a split second after crossing your mind; The unidentified male beside you turned in his sleep, finally revealing his face to you: Dark, somewhat damp, and definitely sandy hair fell onto the boy’s forehead. His eyebrows were slightly scrunched up, the content of his dreams responsible for their tensed state. His pink lips were parted slightly, and you could see a slight sunburn on the bridge of his nose, making his appearance even cuter. You had to consciously stop a groan from going past your lips once again. Lee Heeseung really wasn’t the person you expected to wake up next to. For him it was probably not too out of the ordinary, being a notorious heartthrob and all, still, for a moment you were quite taken aback by the fact that you weren’t dreaming still.

A small sigh left Heeseung’s lips and pulled you back to reality. Quickly you gathered what you thought were your belongings, slipped a flannel shirt over your barely covered body and hurried away from the sorry-excuse-of-a-bed, leaving behind a still sleeping Heeseung.

It took you a hot second to orientate on the wide beach, but in the distance. you could see last night’s party location, the Park family’s beach house. Of course, there were more houses lined up along the beach, but the Park’s vacation home always stuck out. You sighed, turning the other direction, heading to your best friend’s house, praying that he had been smart enough to collect most of your belongings (read: cell phone) before leaving, and more importantly that he had answers.

Sunoo’s humble beach residence was only a few houses down from your own, which was both a blessing and a curse. It was blessing because had it been any further you might have never met your present-day best friend. It was also a blessing because that meant Sunoo was always within shouting distance, making your neighbors hate you and your voices raspy at times (before cell phones were a thing, of course). One summer the two of you actually created some sort of secret language, or rather signals for each other, by blasting certain songs for different situations during the day. This way of communicating was cut short however, when the police showed up after you blasted Madonna’s Material Girl for 20 minutes straight, signaling your desire to go shopping that afternoon. (Sunoo didn’t answer because he was taking a nap. A nap that was disturbed by the sirens of the police arriving. Apparently, the Police Department took noise complaint on a Wednesday afternoon very seriously.)

Anyways, it was curse because you were within the reach of your parents for 95% of the time. Not that you disliked your parents or spending time with them, but sometimes a daughter needs her space, especially during the summertime. Either way, you were really hoping Sunoo was already awake (unlikely), or at very least he left the door to his balcony open for you to slip inside (very likely).

Thankfully, on this beautiful Saturday morning, both was the case. Just as you slipped through the curtains into Sunoo’s room, he appeared out of his bathroom, bathrobe covering his freshly showered body. Oh, what you would do for a shower right now. The scent of Sunoo’s citrusy bodywash filled the air making it even more evident to you how exhausted and gross you felt. The boy smirked at you, “Had a nice night?”

Most people would be surprised or shocked even if their best friend stood in their bedroom out of the blue. But not Sunoo. He was far too used to you showing up at his house unannounced and in all honesty, it was one of the things you appreciated the most about him, always welcoming you and all your problems as well as questionable choices. What you appreciated less, however, was the rhetorical question he greeted you with.

You ignored his remark, letting yourself fall onto his freshly made bed, burying your face in his cotton-candy, cloud like pillows.

“HEY Sandy Cheeks, get out of my bed right now or I will call security and make them chase you all the way back into Lee Heeseung’s arms.” He swiftly kicked you off his bed, banning you to the floor.

Sitting up you looked up at him through messy hair hanging in your face, “Please tell me you were smart enough to fetch my things before you left.”

“Of course. I am the intelligent one after all.” He smiled at you, pointing to your bag, neatly placed on one of his lounge chairs. Alongside the bag there was your jacket and what looked like your sweatshirt from last night. “Your phone is charging on my bedside table. Your parents sent a few messages last night. I replied, I hope you don’t mind.”

Your eyes got teary. You really had the bestest friend in the entire world, “Sunoo…” you pouted at him in appreciation, getting up to hug him. Sunoo was quick to take a step back, however.

“Nope. No. Definitely not. No hugs before you take a shower. You look like you came straight from bikini bottom.” He pushed you towards the bathroom, “You smell like it too.”

“Hey!”

“Not my fault you decided to sleep in the sand. Hurry up, ok? Jungwon’s coming over for breakfast.”

Sunoo had almost closed the door, but you stopped him from shutting it completely, “What? Why is Jungwon coming over?”

Jungwon was also part of your summer-clique, although he was a more recent member of the circle. He lived a little further away from most of the vacationers, his family having a private private beach on the east coast of the island. He still spent most of his time on your side of paradise, which is also how you met. In the beginning Jungwon was a little quieter, but you were quick to learn that he is actually just as mean as Sunoo (in an endearing way, of course) so he was a perfect fit for your friend groups. And thus, the azure trio was born. (Sunoo saw the name as more fitting than the golden trio since you spent most of your days lounging by the strikingly blue water, and he didn’t like to plagiarize.)

“He wants to hear about your night with Heeseung of course. As do I, by the way, but we should wait until he arrives, I don’t need to hear all the dirty details twice.” He smirked at you, earning himself a glare from your side. “Besides,” he continued, “somebody has to return Heeseung’s flannel. And I doubt it’s going to be you,” (he was right of course), “The poor fella had to walk home without a shirt because of you. Really, Y/N, you should feel at least a little guilty.”

You weren’t fast enough to think of a comeback to that, which you would have loved to blame on the still remaining alcohol in your system, but you knew that wasn’t the reason why you couldn’t come up with a counter remark. Looking down your torso, you only now noticed how soft the fabric of the loose shirt you wore was. It smelled kind of nice, too. A fondness started to spread on your features as you admired the shirt hanging from your tired body.

Sunoo didn’t notice however and hastily reminded you to hurry, “Shower. Now.” And with that he shut the door.

chapter 2: unexpected guest, unexpected feelings

The shower was less than relaxing for you. As the semi-hot water hit your body, all you could think about was how you would go on about things. You didn’t remember too much from what had happened last night; Only that you kept drinking from the punch, in which Jake Sim had promised you was the least alcohol from the drinks provided that night. Well, the least alcohol didn’t mean little alcohol. Either way, you decided to blame Jake Sim for not only your actions last night, but also your hangover. You sighed, if only you could remember your actions from last night.

After another twenty minutes of regretting your life choices, you concluded that it didn’t matter much what happened with Heeseung exactly. Heeseung spent nights with lots of girls and doesn’t talk to them the day after. You were sure he had woken up to an empty bed before and was glad about it, so you really didn’t have to feel bad, right? Besides, you and Heeseung were somewhat friends. Well, acquaintances? You were almost positive that Heeseung would not be hurt by your leaving, you seriously doubted that he even remembered anything. You would just go down as one of the many girls Lee Heeseung has hooked up with. Yes, it will probably be topic of some gossiping in the near future, but that will eventually die down, and Sunoo wouldn’t let anyone spread any nasty rumors about you (he is scary like that). Yet, there was small part of you that wanted Lee Heeseung to care, and an even bigger part wanted to remember everything that happened last night, not to just know but to memorize what it felt like to be with Heeseung. You sighed.

However, after getting cleaned up and ready for the day in Sunoo’s bathroom, you had calmed your nerves and come to the conclusion that all of this really was not as big of deal as it had seemed at first.

False.

As you came out onto the patio, you were expecting two boys, laughing, munching on bagels, and slurping freshly squeezed orange juice as well as a general relaxed and comforting atmosphere, in which you can discuss and hopefully laugh about last nights happenings. Instead, you were met with three boys, silence that was so thick, it could have been cut with a knife, and an atmosphere that was as awkward as having the talk with your dad.

It only took you the split of a second to realize that the third boy was none other than Lee Heeseung. Great. With his back still to yours, he didn’t notice you right away. Sunoo’s eyes darted to yours however, which made not only Jungwon turn around to greet you but also the boy you weren’t expecting. He looked tired. Granted, you were tired too, but you reckoned after the shower you looked a lot more refreshed than he did. His hair was still as messy as it had been when he was sleeping, his lips were slightly chapped, still pink though, and the sunburn on his face seemed to have gotten slightly worse.

Heeseung’s eyes scanned over your body, taking in the comfortable, fresh clothes you were wearing, as opposed to the swim wear you had been in, last time he saw you. He was also hoping to see you in his flannel, which he concluded must have been taken by you, but was disappointed by the lack of it on your frame. You looked surprised to see him. The thought that you didn’t want to see him crossed his mind, but he chose to not let that diminish his confidence. Why else would she have left? A small voice in his head spoke, which Heeseung again ignored.

“Hi,” you spoke impossibly quiet. You were praying to all of the gods that this boy would not mention you leaving him in the sand. If he did, you’d probably have cried and flown home instantly, to never speak to anyone on the island ever again. You were sure your nervousness was showing in the form of a red tint on your cheeks, you hoped Heeseung was just as unobservant as your average 21-year-old.

“Uhm, hi.” He answered in a tone that was almost cautious, “You forgot your wallet at Jay’s.” he held out the small black card holder for you to take.

“Oh. Thank you.” You reached out your hand to grab it, making a mental reminder to thank Jay for not letting anyone non-trustworthy take it with them. Lost in thought, your fingers brushed Heeseung’s, and your eyes met his. Heeseung was already looking at you, his eyes looking for answers, Why did she just leave?, while yours were pleading him to not say anything, ask anything about last night or why he woke up alone. In all truthfulness, you weren’t entirely sure why you just left; you just felt overwhelmed, out of place next to Lee Heeseung. But above all, you didn’t want to be just one of the girls Heeseung has had a thing with, you refused to be just another one of his girls.

A loud car honk pulled you out of your moment. You jumped slightly and Heeseung’s instincts wanted nothing more than to casually pull you in to comfort you, but it really wasn’t his place to do so. The car honk also reminded him that Jake was waiting for him outside, ready to take him home.

“Sorry. That was Jake.” He explained for all three of you, but he was only looking at you, “I should probably go.” He smiled politely, saying his goodbye to your friends.

You were still standing there, feeling quite out of place, even though technically Heeseung was the intruder, and not knowing how to properly farewell the older boy. You decided on returning the awkward smile and reverting your gaze towards the marble flooring of the Kim’s residence’s veranda.

Heeseung visibly flinched at you swiftly rejecting his every approach but respected it as soon as he understood it. Still, he settled on one last farewell for the morning towards you; Despite your passiveness, he smiled his award-winning smile and just before he vanished behind the corner of the house, he called out your name.

Quite surprised your head turned towards his direction, the rising sun, blinding his view, but making him glow in yours, “I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

Before you could reply Heeseung was gone. With quick steps he jumped into Jake’s Jeep, who only gave him a questioning look, “Dude, you’re so whipped.”

Heeseung glared at him, “Shut up, Sim.” But of course, he was. And he knew that Jake knew. As well as all the other boys. Even Riki knew, and it was the kid’s first summer on the island. But Heeseung didn’t mind; it only meant that the boys didn’t try anything with you. Heeseung sighed, he really wished yesterday had gone differently, and he really wanted to know what was going on in that pretty head of yours.

chapter three: the chosen one

“Well, that was awkward as hell.” Jungwon stated, once again pulling you out of your thoughts and your gaze away from where Heeseung last was, towards him.

“Good morning to you too, Jungwon.” You smiled at him with false sweetness, letting yourself fall onto the comfortable seating area that was located just behind your friends. Sitting down your eyes were on the search for a glass of water and the aspirin Sunoo no doubt had provided for you. Aha. Reaching for the pills you finally looked back at your two best friends, “What?”

“You are this year’s chosen one.” Sunoo stated matter-of-factly.

“I am this year’s what now?” You looked at him, an almost amused smile fighting its way onto your lips.

“Let’s be honest, she has been every year’s chosen one. Heeseung just hasn’t been successful in charming our Y/N yet. Well until now. Although I doubt, she even remembers how he did it.”

It’s true that over the past year Heeseung has almost always had a summer fling. It has gotten to the point where girls were getting all dolled up for the first party of the summer just to be the quote-unquote chosen one. You, of course, had never bothered with such efforts for a man. At least not after the first year, in which Heeseung had already been making out with some girl by the point you had even gotten to the party. Not that you minded much back then, it was just a little annoying, that’s all. The years after that you and Sunoo bothered less and less with Heeseung’s crowd. They were all really nice individually, but put together they were… well, they were a lot.

“I am not anyone’s chosen one. Let alone Lee Heeseung’s. Can we please just drop this?”

“Oh, you so are! And no, we cannot!” Sunoo exclaimed enthusiastically, “This is your summer to have an epic romance!” You just rolled your eyes and groaned.

“It really isn’t? Besides, I don’t want to be one of Heeseung’s trophy hook-ups.” You looked at your boys sternly, “so can we please just drop it.”

Sunoo scrunched his nose at you, but ultimately shut up, pouring you a cup of coffee, which you happily accepted and directly led towards your lips. The juice of life you thought, giggling to yourself.

“Can I just say one more thing?” Jungwon looked at you and you raised an eyebrow at him, signaling him to continue, but with caution. The boy in front of you started to smirk, “You really just left Lee Heeseung laying in the sand. Imagine the hit his ego must have taken.” Sunoo burst out laughing at the thought of Heeseung waking up alone on the beach, and while there was a small smile on your lips, you felt a pang in your chest, feeling a tad bit guilty.

Thankfully your parents weren’t too mad at you for not coming home that night. You just explained that you fell asleep at Sunoo’s and that was pretty much the end of it. At least with your parents. You could quite literally feel and hear Sunoo and Jungwon eyeing you, smirking at you or giggling whenever Heeseung or the party at Jay’s was mentioned. Remarks such as “Yes, Y/N really enjoyed that night” or “Oh, Y/N wouldn’t know because she was busy on the beach” were something you have had to get used to for the past couple of days. Yes, the teasing went on for days.

Heeseung however didn’t text you or talk to you at all for that matter. On one hand you were glad that he was not talking to you, but on the other hand you were sort of disappointed. But you supposed that was just the buzz of it all. It was probably a good thing that he hadn’t called you up, at all.

chapter 4: boys’ day

So here you were, still thinking about Lee Heeseung as you were sitting on your windowsill looking at the outside world, somewhat trying to get past one of the rarest days of summer; Rain clouds had engulfed the blue skies over the island, painting them a monotonous grey, but letting the plants thrive with the additional hydration. Your parents had gone to the house of family friends, and you didn’t want to tag along planning on spending the day with your friends. Days like these you’d usually spent watching movies with Sunoo and Jungwon, but Jungwon and Sunoo had been invited over by a new kid named Riki. You didn’t know what they were doing but you honestly didn’t need to know after the words ‘boys’ day’ were brought up into the conversation. They were traitors in any case.

You sighed looking out onto the completely empty beach. The rain was tapping a calming rhythm onto the glassy front in your room. It was seldom that you were truly bored when you were here, but you supposed there was a first time for everything. You sighed, even people watching was impossible on a day like this with everyone being couped up in their respective homes. You couldn’t help but let your mind wander to Heeseung. For a moment you wondered what he was doing. Maybe he was at Riki’s just like all the other boys? Or maybe he was home, bored half to death, just like you.

Heeseung was, in fact, at Riki’s. But not for the reason the others were there, well, at least not officially. Riki’s parents had hired him as Riki’s chaperone for the evening, arguing that there had to be at least one adult watching the teenage boys doing whatever they were doing. Heeseung didn’t know were exactly the parents had gone to and Riki probably didn’t either, all he knew was that they were gone for a week and left Riki under his supervision. Bad idea. Heeseung really just was a kid at heart, probably even more immature than Riki, the actual child (even though he was tall, Hee had to admit.)

In any case, Heeseung was officially chaperoning his friends and unofficially he was just hanging out with all of his favorite people in the world. Well, almost all of his favorite people.

When he saw that Riki had also invited Sunoo and Jungwon along, he had a spark of hope that you’d come along. But that spark was diminished when Jay loudly yelled BOYS NIGHT through the entire living room, making most of the other guys laugh, and Heeseung sigh.

He missed your warmth. Granted he had only ever held you once, but he remembered how his arms fit around your body as if you’d just gotten up a moment ago. After years of watching you from afar, he had finally gotten enough courage to talk to you that night. In retrospect it was probably not the best of nights to initiate his plan on finally doing something about his crush on you, but he just couldn’t help himself; when he saw you sitting on kitchen counter, left alone by Sunoo (your usual corrupter), hiccupping, and sipping on a dixie cup full of water (how he later learned), he just couldn’t not talk to you. And conversation with you was easy. Sure, you were drunk, he was definitely not sober either, but the conversation was still of quality. It was easy to follow you outside to the beach, listening to you ramble on about how you’ve always wanted to go swimming in front of Jay’s house but were too sacred because his dad was incredibly intimidating. The looks of encouragement the boys gave him didn’t help either, all of them knowing how he felt about you. Heeseung never was too secretive about the fact he liked you, talking and analyzing the few conversations the two of you had with his closest friends on multiple occasions. The two of you had gone swimming that night and, oh, the fun you had. Heeseung thought it was a shame that you probably had forgotten all of that (judging by your reaction to his visit the next day). He also knew that you probably had the wrong idea of that night. Heeseung knew of his reputation, it was his own fault really, but that night nothing had happened, well nothing except that he had fallen even harder for you. After the two of you had gone for your midnight swim, you had simply decided that you were tired and that you were simply going to sleep on the beach for that night. He had tried to convince you to at least get back to Jay’s house and sleep in one of the many guest rooms, but you had refused, and planted yourself in fetal position in the sand, with a towel covering your body as a blanket. What was he supposed to do? Was he just supposed to let you sleep all on your own on the beach? No, he would’ve never done that, so he did the next best thing; he laid down next to you. And when he woke up the next day, you were gone and so was his flannel.

After visiting you that day Heeseung decided to let you come to him. Well, let you decide whether or not you wanted to get to know him more /read: again (you had forgotten practically everything)/. So far you hadn’t reached out.

The other boys knew of Heeseung’s girl troubles, of course. It was one of the reasons they had invited Sunoo and Jungwon. Not that they didn’t like the two boys, they just weren’t as close, and all the drama with you, gave them an excuse to get to know them better. It was Sunghoon’s idea to invite them and ask them if you talked about Heeseung to them. Sunghoon figured he could totally tell by their reaction whether or not you liked Heeseung. Of course, he wasn’t counting on them just outright telling them that you like Heeseung, but rather, he was expecting an outright ‘No’, by which he could judge the reality behind the statement. Sunghoon thought his plan was foolproof.

“So,” Sunghoon started out, eyeing Heeseung (who was already facepalming internally), “how’s Y/N?”

Sunoo started to laugh hysterically, “Is that why we’re here?” he chuckled to himself, while the others frantically shook their heads.

“She’s dense, that’s how she is.” Jungwon stated.

Sunoo scoffed, slightly offended on your behalf, but essentially agreeing, “Oblivious is what she is.” He shrugged, popping another blueberry into his mouth.

Heeseung’s eyes met Sunoo’s, and the boy sighed, “Listen, Hee, I don’t know what is going on in that girl’s head half of the time. I would love to tell you that she likes you, which I honestly think she does, but I also think that she hasn’t figured that out herself yet.”

Heeseung just nodded along to this newfound information, but there was one more question he needed the answer to, “Does she know what really happened on the beach?”

Sunoo’s eyes went wide, “If you’re about to tell me about your sex-capades with my best friend, please refrain from doing so. You can fill her in the next time you see her. Or maybe don’t, safe sex and all, you know.”

Heeseung’s ears must’ve turned bright red judging by the laughter that surrounded the boy. Jungwon was looking at him prudently, making him uneasy. Most people thought because you and Sunoo were a little closer, he was the scary one, but Heeseung had observed how Jungwon acts towards you, and he knew that it was probably Jungwon he should be scared of.

Jungwon broke the eye contact he was holding with Heeseung, “I think she knows nothing happened,” Heeseung let out a sigh in relief, “but I also think that she doesn’t really know what happened instead of that. I think she’s too embarrassed to ask.” To that Sunoo started to nod, agreeingly.

“Maybe you should discuss this with her? I mean, talking about her with her best friends isn’t really the way to get the girl now, is it?” Jake suggested clapping a hand on Heeseung’s shoulder, encouragingly. Heeseung nodded and smiled slightly.

With that the boys started to get ready for their rainy day inside filled with laughter and snacks. While the other boys bantered and giggled amongst themselves, Heeseung’s thoughts wandered towards you more than once.

chapter 5: the plan.

The popsicle was dripping down your hand as you listened to the strangest idea you had ever heard out of Yang Jungwon’s mouth: “A bonfire?” you asked bemused by Jungwon’s newfound enthusiasm to host a party at his family’s private beach. It never really crossed the mind of any of the three of you to host a party at one of your residences; there were official unofficial roles on the island and the three of you definitely were not playing the party host part. You instantly suspected that it was Sunoo who planted the idea into Jungwon’s head, but he definitely played the part of actually wanting to do it somewhat well. You looked at the two boys with a quizzical eyebrow.

“Yes,” Sunoo said dramatically, “a bonfire. You know marshmallows and everything? Anyways the weather is perfect for it, let’s say Friday? How does that sound?”

Jungwon just shrugged. He didn’t really care much when this party was happening, as long as Sunoo promised to clean up afterwards (which he did).

“Why the sudden desire to have a party? We’re the party goers on the island, not the party throwers.” Finally, you turned your attention back towards the melting popsicle in your hand, cleaning up the mess the sun had made by skillfully tracing the trails of sticky sweetness with your tongue. Both boys watched in disgust.

“Ew,” Sunoo stated, “But, I was thinking we could invite Yunjin, Chaewon, and the others. You know the girlies from the north shore.” He smiled at you.

The north shore girls always got you. For some reason you were one of the few girls your age that actually lived on this side of the island, so whenever Yunjin came over to visit you spent as much time with her as possible. You just loved them a lot. And Sunoo knew that, of course.

Jungwon cleared his throat, “I was also thinking of inviting the boys.” He looked at you as though he expected you to argue.

“The boys?” you chuckled, “Who is ‘the boys’ exactly?”

Jungwon exchanged a look with Sunoo, “Oh you know, just Jake and the guys. Heeseung too maybe?” At his name you froze for a moment, a quiet Oh slipping past your lips.

Heeseung’s whole idea of letting you come to him had been going fairly well, with you almost finally deciding to ask him about the night on the beach (grave influence on the matter was that Sunoo would just not shut up about it), but you had heard a rumor of Heeseung hooking up with one of his ‘past chosen ones’. And with that your intent to talk to him did a 180 and evolved into the plan to never talk to him again (much to Sunoo’s frustrations). Deep down you knew it was bad to listen to gossip, but you were also somewhat spiritual and took this as a sign from the universe that talking to Heeseung would be a bad idea. Both of your best friends knew that in reality it was an attempt to protect your heart. Ever since then the both of them had dropped the topic of your not-one-night-stand (as it had been established by now), until now at least.

“That’s okay with you, right?” Jungwon asked, again speaking in a tone that was too cautious. It made you feel uneasy.

You sighed, “Yes, of course. Sure. What do I care if Lee Heeseung is going to be there.” Overkill, Y/N, tone it down a bit. Both boys chuckled at your response, “All I’m saying is what do I care, when Huh Yunjin is going to be there. I’m going to hug her all night.” Nice save. You rolled your eyes at yourself.

“Right.” Sunoo laughed, shaking his head.

Over the past two weeks he and Heeseung had gotten considerably closer. Plotting ways to get you to talk to him. Heeseung always told Sunoo not to meddle, but Sunoo said he was simply annoying you into talking to Heeseung (and he was almost successful). Imagine the earful Heeseung had gotten after you had told Sunoo about the rumor you had heard. Heeseung had been completely confused about the accusations, not having talked to the girl in over three years. It took Jay and Sunghoon to assure Sunoo that you had been everything Heeseung had been talking about all summer, and they pleaded him to just do something about the two of you since by now all 4 of them could describe your eye color in heavy detail. Sunoo had laughed when he heard that statement, thinking it a vast exaggeration, but it was true; All Heeseung had been talking about was you: how you took his breath away, how what he had been feeling was something completely new to him. It felt so much bigger than himself and he didn’t completely understand it. To be honest he didn’t understand it all, and it scared him. It ate him up from the inside to not know how you were feeling, but he also wanted to honor the promise to himself (and you) to let you decide when you were ready to talk about it. Sunoo thought that was sweet, but he also reminded Heeseung that you could be incredibly stubborn and dense, so it would definitely take some more time and maybe a different strategy. However frustrating that may be.

The winds turned in Heeseung’s favor. Since you were okay with him coming to the party, Sunoo figured you were okay with talking to Heeseung. Eventually. Riki had suggested to just get you drunk again, but with one stern look by both Heeseung and Sunoo he put that idea back into his mind-trash can. Thus, an actual plan had not been established per se. However, Sunoo knew that you were going to talk to the girls for sure, he just had to guarantee it was about Heeseung, so that you were finally going to talk to him, as well as put yourself and the poor boy out of your misery of mutual attraction and pining.

chapter 6: the bonfire.

The weather was nice. Not too hot, not too windy, not too humid. Perfect for a bonfire. At least that’s what you’ve been told by both of your best friends over and over as the three of you prepared Jungwon’s house for the evening’s festivities. Apparently, it had taken a little time to convince his parents to host a party at the house. Something about a Daniel and a chandelier? Jungwon hadn’t gone into detail about this one of his party-stories from during the semester. But in the end the promise of Sunoo cleaning up everything convinced them, as well as the idea of a responsible Y/N. It seemed funny to you that the boys had made you out to be the mature member of your trio, but you guessed it made sense with Jungwon’s parents knowing you the least, as well as you being the oldest.

So, the three of you spent your day prepping for the party; from putting away expensive art and decorations to cutting fruit and baking brownies. You hadn’t realized how much work hosting a party was, thus newfound admiration for people like Jay, who had a party almost every weekend, bloomed inside of you.

The three of you finished late in the afternoon and decided to go for a swim just before the guests would arrive. The suns heat had died down after its height at 2 p.m. but it was still hot outside, your body welcoming the cool sensation of the salty waters. It was quiet the only sounds being the soft waves crashing onto the beach and the laughter of Sunoo and Jungwon as they took turns dunking each other underwater. Boys. You noticed the ocean had been extremely calm all afternoon, awaiting the storm of the party patiently.

You sighed, letting the water carry your body on its surface. You weren’t exactly nervous for the party, but you also weren’t totally chill about it. For one you were somewhat stressed because you felt responsible for Jungwon’s house. But the main reason for your anxiety was definitely Heeseung. Not that you were hoping for anything, but over the past few days you had come to the conclusion that you liked him, and it was horrifying to say the least. Especially since you were sure that he had forgotten all about you, never having talked to you ‘later’ and all. In your frustration you let the ocean swallow up your body only coming back up when your lungs were screaming for oxygen. Nothing like clearing your mind off a boy like almost intentionally drowning. You hadn’t realized how far out the ocean had carried you until you heard Sunoo call your name from a distance. He looked so small on the shore, towel wrapped around his body, he motioned for you to come out, “Y/N!! We have got to get ready! Come on!” With a small smile and some butterflies in your stomach you made your way towards the shore, worrying about which outfit of the three you had brought with you, you would wear.

The guests arrived sooner than you expected, and before you knew it, you were sat in between Yunjin and Chaewon, drink in your hand, and worries far away. The latter especially since you hadn’t seen Heeseung yet, and the house was pretty much packed, so you were hopefully not going to run into him at all. Out of sight out of mind.

“So, Y/N,” Yunjin turned towards you, “Lee Heeseung, huh?” she smirked, and you groaned, not out of mind, you facepalmed internally.

“I mean I’m not even exactly sure something happened between us,” you explained, “I just woke up next to him on the beach.” The girls started to squeal at that, making you instantly regret telling them about your sandy sleepover.

“Okay, so there is virtually no way nothing happened. And there’s also no way that you don’t remember anything. You’re just being shy, aren’t you? ” Yunjin urged you to further elaborate, but you really couldn’t. You understood that they were curious about what happened that night, in all honesty so were you, but you simply couldn’t answer their questions. So you just shrugged.

“I have an idea.” Chaewon mumbled, a mischievous smile forming on her lips. Her eyes travelled from your concerned face across the room, to the topic of your conversation.

“Chaewon, don’t-” you warned in vain.

“Heeseung!” she yelled out to him, making him turn around instantly. You actually didn’t know if Heeseung knew the north shore girls or not, and by the confused look on his face you guessed he didn’t know them well. The confusion on his face vanished when his eyes met yours. His mouth slightly opened as though he wanted to say something from all the way across the room. You mouthed a small hello, a smile occupying your lips just a moment later. He smiled back, waving, and taking the first step into your direction.

It stayed with just the one though, as Jake pulled Heeseung by the arm out into the direction of the beach, “Jungwon needs our help to start the fire.” Heeseung was too startled to fight back, looking back once more as he was being kidnapped onto the beach, only to see you glare at your friends. Cute.

“Chaewon, what the hell?” you looked at her, raised eyebrows.

“What? You should thank me, because, while we still don’t know what happened on the beach that night, we now know that Lee Heeseung likes you.” She smiled triumphantly.

“Please, he said hi to me, that doesn’t mean he likes me.” You sighed, letting your head fall back.

“No, I agree with Chae. There was definitely an ‘I like you’ kind of vibe in the way he looked at you.” You really could have strangled Yunjin then and there, giving you hope that your feelings might actually be reciprocated, “besides, I heard that he hasn’t been hooking up with any girls this summer. My neighbor talked about it; her ego must’ve taken quite the hit.” Yunjin chuckled as she remembered the girl talking loudly on the phone about a certain Lee Heeseung not giving her the time of day.

You weren’t convinced, however, and with one glance thrown your way the girls realized that too, “All we’re saying is,” Yunjin began, smiling softly at you, “maybe it’s worth finding out what happened, you know? From what we can tell, be it by rumors and gossip I admit, Heeseung seems to actually be waiting for you to initiate something. Which is really sweet considering you left him in the sand.” Chae and Yunjin started to chuckle slightly.

You rolled your eyes at the latter comment, but knew that, ultimately, they were right. You really wanted to know what happened, having gone through endless scenarios of what might-have-happened in your head already. You sighed, nodding, taking the last sip of your drink before getting up to get a refill. Looking outside you could now see the distant glow of the bonfire. You pouted, Sunoo and Jungwon clearly having lit it without you. That would also explain the lack of people inside the house, which you only realized now. You grabbed another beer, getting the girls to join the others outside.

Heeseung sighed, watching the flames dance and throw shadows all over the cooled down sand, your short interaction from earlier replaying in his head over and over. He had gone over a game plan for the night in the car just before coming inside, but it had all flown out of his head when he had seen you sit there and actually look at him. You made him nervous. Jake had apologized multiple times after Heeseung complained about being dragged away from the love of his life to start a fire. In the end, he decided that it was a good thing. Talking to you while two of your intimidating girl friends were around, probably wasn’t the greatest idea. He just hoped you would talk to him tonight or he might explode from the lack of /you/.

Jungwon was observing the older boy. There was a small smile hanging from his lips as he approached Heeseung, his shadow looming over him even before he could get Heeseung’s attention by tapping his shoulder. Noticing the unnatural shade from the warm fire, Hee looked up, giving Jungwon a questioning look.

“She’ll talk to you tonight.” Jungwon stated reassuringly, “I have a good feeling about it. Call it my psychic abilities, the mystery of the Yang mansion or the magic of the bonfire, but I simply know that she’ll talk to you tonight.” (Jungwon knew of course because you promised him you would if the opportunity arised. Just before the first guests arrived you had held a speech to him and Sunoo concerning your feelings for the boy in front of him. Something about now or never. Jungwon was sure you had taken swigs of Rum while preparing the punch.)

Heeseung laughed at the boy’s optimism, doubting his words as well as the magic of the bonfire. But just as he was about to reply, you stepped onto the cool sand.

“Speaking of the devil.” Jungwon smirked.

It was obvious that you were tipsy again, and Heeseung prayed that you weren’t as far gone as you had been a few weeks ago and would actually remember your (hopeful) interactions tonight. Heeseung’s eyes followed your figure as you made your way into the direction of Sunoo. You handed the boy your beer and sat down beside him. Soon after your laugh filled the atmosphere. Well at least Heeseung’s ears as you were the only thing he could focus on now that you were in his closer vicinity. Not that he had any troubles focusing on you only even when you weren’t anywhere near him.

“Someone’s been staring at you.” Sunoo smirked, taking a sip from your/his beer. You blushed at his statement. You had noticed Heeseung looking at you, but you didn’t realize other people did to. Although you could’ve guessed that Sunoo would notice it, being the biggest Y/N-Heeseung-supporter and all. “Go talk to him and put that poor man out of his misery.” Sunoo smiled, but you knew he was serious with his request.

“I don’t know, Sunoo.” You looked at your feet, burying themselves in the sand, “what if I embarrass myself?”

Looking at his best friend, Sunoo realized for the first time just how much you like Heeseung. He had never witnessed you hesitating when it came to talking to someone you found attractive. You were straight forward, confident. At first, he thought you were just a little embarrassed, that you just felt awkward because of the whole beach sleepover, but now he came to understand that you truly, genuinely liked Heeseung.

His features softened, “Oh Y/N, you won’t embarrass yourself. Everything’s going to go great, I promise.”

You smiled at his encouragement, but shook your head nonetheless, “I think I’ll wait a little longer, maybe sober up some more.”

Sunoo sighed but understood your reasoning. Oh, it was nerve wrecking to be in love.

As the hours went on, the fire lost its immensity. Its warmth reaching less and less far, until you could only remember its comfort by its flicker. Most people had either left or gone inside, only few remained on the beach. Heeseung was still low key watching you as you sipped on your water bottle, having switched from booze to the refreshing liquid almost immediately after coming down to the fire. What Heeseung couldn’t tell from his side of the bonfire was how nervous you were. You were hyping yourself up internally to finally get up to the boy. You had been pep-talking yourself for the past hour.

“Okey, Y/N, if you look up now and he’s looking at you, you go over there and talk to him.” You muttered to yourself, still burying your feet in the sand, only to pull them out again moments later. With one last breath, you averted your gaze from your incredibly interesting feet to Heeseung.

The boy in question was surprised to finally be seeing your eyes directed at him, visibly flinching at your sudden eye contact. Still, he didn’t look away, only tilting his smiling at you. Just as you promised yourself, you got up and made your way towards Heeseung, who was growing more and more giddy at the prospect of talking to you finally.

“Hi” you breathed out, barely audible. Had Heeseung not seen your lips move, he would’ve thought it was the wind rushing by.

“Hey.” He smiled, “long time no see.”

“Yeah, I know.” You looked down, “sorry about that.”

He shook his head no, meaning it wasn’t your fault (although it undeniably was) “You want to sit down?” he patted the space next to him on the log. Earlier that day Jungwon had placed three huge tree trunks around the fire for the proper experience.

“Actually…” you looked around, “maybe we could go somewhere else?” Heeseung’s eyes grew wide, a redness spreading across his face he was sure even the low light of the fire couldn’t conceal, “Just because there’s so many prying eyes around.” You quickly clarified, “I don’t know about you, but I can definitely feel Sunoo’s gaze boring through the back of my head.”

Heeseung’s sight darted towards the other side of the fire, where indeed all of your friends had gathered to watch their favorite ship sail. He laughed as he stood up, “Yea, you’re right.” He placed his hand on your lower back leading you further away from the flickering light source, “Let’s go,” he smiled.

(There was a number of groans and eyerolls by your friends to be observed, but they supposed they would get the details later.)

Heeseung and you walked in silence for a bit, making sure you were out of earshot. The more time you spent by his side, the more comfortable you felt. You noticed you were getting closer with every step you took until your sides were brushing against each other. It warmed your insides.

Heeseung on the other hand was growing more and more nervous. He thought his heart would actually burst and butterflies would fly out of his mouth any second now. Your close proximity being something he definitely had not gotten used to, despite already having slept next to you once. The fact that you seemed to be completely sober added only more to his anticipation.

“How have you been?” he blurted out. Mentally facepalming his sudden initiation of small talk.

You laughed quietly, “Honestly?” You looked at him, the corners of your mouth turning upwards, “It’s been a bit of a rollercoaster recently,” you chuckled.

Hee nodded along, agreeing with your statement.

The two of you had ventured so far down the beach, that the soft waves of the night were now kissing your feet. The reflection of the moon created a pale shine on both of your faces and Heeseung thought you looked simply beautiful. He was sure he was staring again, but through looking at you he noticed that you slightly shivered. The temperatures had dropped since the beginning of the party and now with the lack of the bonfire-y atmosphere, Heeseung could understand that you were a little chilly.

“Are you cold?” He asked walking side by side with you.

You only shook your head, no. But you knew Heeseung probably looked right through that lie.

He let out a breathy laugh, “I would give you my flannel, but someone hasn’t retuned it yet.”

You snapped your head towards him, eyes wide and mouth open, “Oh my god, Heeseung, I’m sorry. I’ve been meaning to give it to Jungwon to return it to you.” You averted your gaze again.

“It’s fine.” He smiled, “I’d rather you gave it back yourself anyways. Especially after stealing it so cunningly off my sleeping body.” Heeseung laughed.

But you didn’t. The thought of the night of Jay’s party creating an awkward atmosphere for the first time. You opened your mouth thinking of something to say. It wasn’t his intention to create an uncomfortable situation, but he supposed it was necessary to talk about what happened at some point. Heeseung thought he could see the gears working in your brain, although he wasn’t entirely sure what you were going to say.

When you abruptly halted it took him a second to stop his movements as well. Now a few steps in front of you, the tall boy looked back at you, waiting for you to say something.

“Heeseung, I am so sorry for just leaving,” you bit your lip, a smile fighting its way onto his lips before you continued, “I was honestly just overwhelmed by the situation, especially because I didn’t remember a whole lot of the night before. I didn’t want to create a potentially uneasy situation the moment you woke up and now I realize that me leaving probably only spared me from such feelings, but just know that I am truly, genuinely sorry.” You finally breathed out, looking the boy in the eye.

“It’s okay.” He said a small smile on his lips, “Honestly, at first I thought I had dreamt up everything that I thought to have happened that night. But then I saw the traces of your body in the sand, and I realized it was real.” You flinched at his honesty, feeling a sharp pain in your chest that could only be caused by heart break. You wondered if that was what Heeseung had felt when he realized that you left. “But it’s okey, alright?” he placed his hands on your shoulders, willing you to look at him.

“I’m also sorry I don’t remember everything.” You muttered looking him in the eye but breaking the contact once you realized just how intensely Heeseung was looking at you.

His features softened, “What of that night do you remember?” Heeseung looked as though you held all the answers for all the questions in the world. Searching for them in the depth of your eyes and not stopping until he new it all. It scared you because you knew he would find out everything by just looking at you. You felt bare in front of him, and you were sure he had already figured out how deeply in love you were with him.

You hesitated again, your arms hugging your body in embarrassment. So Heeseung decided to speak up once more, softly he said “Hey, how am I supposed to fill you in, when I don’t know what you remember? I don’t want to bore you with details you already know.”

You chuckled softly at that, “All I know is that, well…” you looked down, “I know that my first assumption of what happened was wrong.”

He couldn’t suppress his laugh at that statement, making you blush furiously, “and what exactly would that assumption be? Just to make sure you’re right with it.”

You sighed, “You know, that we had sex.” Looking at him through your lashes, you saw the biggest grin placed on his face, you rolled your eyes and he laughed.

“No, you’re right. We didn’t have sex.” He confirmed but was still grinning at you though.

“What?” you were starting to laugh as well, the absurdity of the situation catching up with you.

Heeseung was shaking his head, smiling still, and reaching out to pull you closer by your elbows. Being impossibly close to him was definitely something you had yet to get used to. It felt like every inch of you that was touching him was burning, a warmth spreading on your skin, similar to the sensation of the bonfire. His lips were wearing the softest smile as he looked down at you. It was Heeseung’s turn to be sure that you saw all the love in his eyes. He placed his hand on your cheek, caressing it with his thumb. A sweet gesture, but it also ensured that you kept looking at him, and Heeseung really needed you to keep looking at him.

“Why tell you what happened that night when I can show you what should have happened, even long before Jay’s party?” His eyes were looking for some sort of hesitation or uncertainty in yours.

But a small smile spread across your lips, a stark contrast to his anxious facial expression, awaiting your reaction, he knew he could go through with what he had been wanting to do for so long. You tilted your head and in a surge of confidence spoke, “Yeah? And what would that be?”

Heeseung let out one last breath before finally bringing his lips to yours. The kiss wasn’t as hungry as you had expected, it was slow and passionate, lips moving in sync. You could feel Heeseung smile against your lips making you do the same. People say ‘actions speak louder than words’, but in this moment, you thought it should be ‘kisses speak louder than words’. (Cheesy, you cringed at yourself) Before you weren’t entirely sure how Heeseung really felt for you, but after that kiss, you knew just how much he liked you.

When you finally broke away, out of breath but still quietly giggling with each other, you hoped Heeseung could feel just how much you loved him.

Foreheads resting against each other, he broke the silence, “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do this.”

Looking into his eyes, you pecked his lips once more, “Oh, I think I have an idea.”

thank you so much for reading til the end! i hope you enjoyed it! 🤍🤍🤍

this piece was written by @yourstruleejn so please don’t post on any other platforms or translate into any other languages! thank u !!!

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