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I HAVE BEEN LAUGHING MY ASS OFF AT THIS SCREENSHOT FOR THE PAST HOUR OH MY FUCK
#RAUL. RAUL BEHIND YOU !!!!!#NAWWW HE CANT HEAR HIM HE GOT AIRPODS IN#could you fucking imagine hearing some loser crash through the floorboards behind you ON A BOAT#and just. keep on stirrin#wordgirl#captain tangent#raul demiglasse
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This TWS has a crazy feature 😲 Best TWS earbuds under Rs. 1000 ? ⚡
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The Best Earbuds 2023: Our Top Earphones And In-ear Headphones For Any Budgets
There is hardly anyone who doesn’t have an earphone on them these days! Everywhere you go.. You will always find someone or the other speaking loudly in their earphones or simply banging their head to their favourite tunes.
Be it your vegetable vendor, your guard, your father, your younger brother who is still in school (all thanks to the online classes) and anyone else whom you can think of — anyone and everyone own a pair of headphones!
But what makes a good earphone? Good audio? Perfect looks? Comfortable fit? Reliable Connectivity? Battery Backup?
Well.. maybe.. All of it packed into a stylish body! If that’s your definition of perfect earphones as well.. Then read on. As we introduce some of the best earbuds that you can consider buying in 2023:
Airdopes 601 ANC
Experience music like never before with these best earbuds. These boAtearbuds do not only look great but are loaded with every feature that ensures blissful listening.
The Hybrid Active Noise Cancellation allows you to shut out the chaos outside and immerse yourself in your favourite tunes. So, it doesn’t matter if you are using your earphones on a busy street, in a crowded bus or while boarding a flight, nothing will stop you from listening clearly. The 4x mic with ENx technology makes sure that your calls are clear and smooth. Smart features like swipe gesture controls, insta wake N pair and in-ear detection further add convenience to your listening experience. They offer playback of up to 28H (with the charging cum carry case). They also support ASAP charge technology, meaning that charging them up for hardly 5 mins will provide you with a playtime of up to 60 mins.
Oppo enco X
Designed to offer a mesmerising listening experience, these earbuds are loaded with many interesting features. They feature a unique design that offers comfort and stability.
The 11mm dynamic driver delivers mind-blowing audio quality. They support active noise cancellation that reduces the ambient noises for you to listen clearly. They also support a Transparency Mode that comes in handy when you want to interact with your ambient sounds without removing your earphones. They offer a playtime of up to 20H. The IP54rating keeps them safe from any accidents.
Nothing Ear (1)
Stylish, sleek and superb — these true wireless earbuds are perfect for people who love to carry their music everywhere they go. Weighing around only 4.7g, these earbuds are easy to carry in your pocket.
The 11.6mm speaker driver delivers impactful music that is loud, clear and crisp. The spacious air chamber further provides an advanced bass. Block out the outside noises and listen to only what you want to listen, all thanks to the active noise cancellation feature. And when you want to interact with the ambient sound, then simply switch on the Transparency Mode.
The High definition mics make sure that you sound like yourself on the calls. They offer a playtime of up to 34H (with the charging cum carry case). The compact charging cum carry case gets charged wirelessly and hardly takes any long duration of time to charge your earbuds.
Noise buds solo
Impactful sound and gorgeous looks — these earbuds are perfect for the ones who never compromise. Ergonomically designed, they offer a secure fit and stay with you throughout the day. The 10mm speaker driver pumps out surreal music.
The Hybrid Active Noise Cancellation allows you to be able to listen clearly easily even in loud surroundings. The triple mic system ens ures that all your calls are crystal clear. The intuitive in-ear detection feature automatically plays/ pauses music and the ‘Transparency mode’ ensures that you do not miss out on anything that’s outside. They offer a playtime of up to 36H.
Jabra elite 65t
The High definition mics make sure that you sound like yourself on the calls. They offer a playtime of up to 34H (with the charging cum carry case). The compact charging cum carry case gets charged wirelessly and hardly takes any long duration of time to charge your earbuds.
Noise buds solo
The Hybrid Active Noise Cancellation allows you to be able to listen clearly easily even in loud surroundings. The triple mic system ens ures that all your calls are crystal clear. The intuitive in-ear detection feature automatically plays/ pauses music and the ‘Transparency mode’ ensures that you do not miss out on anything that’s outside. They offer a playtime of up to 36H.
Jabra elite 65t
Engineered to deliver the best listening experience, these bluetooth earbuds are perfect for all the hustlers out there. They are stylish and offer a comfortable and snug fit. They come with 3 different sets of ear gels which are of different sizes.
They support an IP55 rating which means that they are resistant to minor accidents. So feel free to groove to your favourite tunes while you are on an adventure. Not only do they deliver flawless music, they are also good at ensuring that you get to listen to what you want to listen clearly. All thanks to the Active Noise Cancellation feature.
They also support a ‘HearThrough mode’ which allows you to bring in the ambient sounds without removing your earphones. They offer a playtime of up to 5H with the earbuds and you get an additional 10H of battery with the charging cum carry case.
Hope you liked it!
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Keywords/Tags
earbuds, boat earbuds, bluetooth earbuds, best earbuds, earphones, true wireless earbuds,
AD 601 ANC
Realme Buds 3 Pro
Nothing Ear (1)
Noise buds solo
Jabra elite 65t
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Playback- Enjoy an extended break on weekends with your favourite episodes on stream, virtue of a playback time of up to 42 hours including the 6 hours nonstop playtime for earbuds. Frequency 20Hz-20KHz
Low Latency- Our BEAST mode makes these true wireless earbuds a partner in entertainment with real-time audio and low latency experience.
Clear Voice Calls- It dons built-in mic on each earbud along with our ENx Environmental Noise Cancellation tech that ensures a smooth delivery of your voice via voice calls.
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gojo satoru x reader | fake marriage au [18+]
in holy matriphony ch1. he said yes!! congrats!!
ᰔ pairing. fake marriage au - neighbor&realtor!gojo x nurse!reader (ft. choso x reader & suguru x reader)
ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is your extremely annoying next-door-neighbor who you're pretty sure is the most insufferable man you've ever met. given the fact that you exclusively work the night shift at a chaotic emergency dept, just got broken up with your boyfriend of seven years, and have been taking care of your sick mother ever since her multitude of diagnoses, yet somehow your neighbor is the main source of stress in your life should speak volumes. but when your mother's medical bills start to skyrocket to more than you can manage, and you learn that said neighbor of yours has the best private health insurance plan in the country, you ask him to enter a matrimonial agreement with you for the spousal benefits all in the name of saving a few hundred thousand dollars. but you'll have to see if suffering cohabitation w him is worth any amount of money.
ᰔ genre/tags. fluff, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), annoyances to lovers (that's more like it), small town romance, fake marriage, next door neighbors, lots of bickering, suburban shenanigans, slow burn, mutual pining, gojo likes to play house but you don't, hatred for the american healthcare system, gojo always forgets to mow the lawn, jealousy, an insane amount of profanity; btw gojo in this fic is in his mid 30s n reader is in her late 20s
ᰔ warnings. reader in this fic has a sick mother w alzheimer's & cancer so there is secondary medical angst!!
ᰔ chapter. 1/x (probably 10)
ᰔ words. 7.8k
a/n. hellooo omg welcome to this debut chapter!! tysm to everyone who wanted to be on taglist for this!! i was gagged at the amount of people!! yall are amazing omg n thanks for supporting my works :''') hope you enjoy this chapter and i will see all you lovelies at the bottom <33
nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 (pending)
Love thy neighbor.
Cherish thy neighbor.
Tolerate thy neighbor.
Peacefully coexist with thy neighbor.
Fuck thy neighbor? No, wait, not that one.
It’s murder thy neighbor. That was the phrase you were looking for.
Murder thy neighbor so gruesomely that you’d leave no trace behind. Murder him and bury him somewhere no one could ever find him, so that even in millions of years from now when some other highly advanced mammalian species overtakes the planet and embarks on journeys to acquire fossils, thy neighbor will still never grace the atmospheric oxygen of the earth ever again. It’s the punishment he’d deserve for thoroughly pissing you off at the worst times possible and in the worst ways possible. The smallest of prices to pay.
“SATORU!!!” you yell, storming up the sudsy driveway of your next-door neighbor’s house at eight in the morning, clad in your dirty scrubs from the hell of a night shift you just endured working at the hospital, glass containers inside the lunchbox you were holding hitting painfully against the poor joint in your knee but you just don’t care. Anger is all you can see right now.
Your neighbor (derogatory) stands there in his pajamas with a spray nozzle in his hands, passively spraying water across the top surface of his car, and when he sees you, he pulls his left airpod out of his ear and looks you up and down once. You’re pretty sure there’s steam coming out of your ears. “Uh, do you mind? I’m trying to wash my car.”
“How many fucking times do I have to tell you not to park your stupid boat in front of my driveway?!” you yell at him, voice hoarse and nails digging into the skin of your palms by the clench of your fists.
“Hm?” he leans back a little to glance past you to his boat. “Oh, you mean my 2023 Boston Whaler 220 Dauntless with low profile bow rail welded stainless steel, Mercury FourStroke hydraulic power steering and, not to mention, a platinum gelcoat hull? That silly old thing? It’s not even parked in front of your driveway.”
“Yes. It is. Are you blind? I can’t move my car into my garage, hence why it’s running idle on the fucking street right now. Your boat’s on my property.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes. It is.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Uh. Yuh-huh.”
“Honey. I’m a real estate agent. You don’t think I’d know where my own property line starts and ends?”
“Park. It. On. Your. Drive. Way.”
“I spent a lot of money on that boat,” he sighs, “I intend to show it off on the street. Stop acting like there isn’t more than enough room for your tiny prius. It’s not my fault you have the motor skills of a toddler and don’t know how to pull into a driveway,” he pauses for a second and tilts his head upwards in thought, “Oh. Motor skills, haha, get it? Fuck, that’s funny. Hold on, I gotta jot that down,” he pulls his phone out of the pocket of his cotton plaid pajama pants, “my niece would love that. She gets all giggly about puns these days. It’s her birthday next weekend, by the way, turning five.”
“Oh, right,” you scratch the top of your head (been too busy to wash your hair), and realize the ponytail you threw your hair up into at the beginning of your shift last night is now barely hanging on for dear life, “I forgot to tell you, but my cousin said he can’t rent that pony out for her birthday party anymore. Apparently it died.”
He stares at you. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Damn.”
“Mm.”
He shrugs. “That’s fine, thanks anyway,” he swipes up on his phone, “they had crazy hair day at my niece’s elementary school yesterday, wanna see a picture?”
“Sure.”
He turns his phone to show you. “My sister let her cut her hair a little shorter this time since she wouldn’t stop asking. I guess all her friends at school were cutting theirs short too so they wanted to be matching.”
“Aww,” you pout with a small smile when you see the picture, “I think it suits her. That’s a lot of glitter though, y’know that stuff’s really bad for the environment.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, turning his phone screen back to face him, “anyway. I was halfway convinced you just came from some crazy hair day when I saw you stomp up my driveway just now.”
“I’m gonna guillotine your head off with the trunk door of my car. Now move your boat.”
“Hold on one sec,” he says, holding a finger right up to your face, and you flinch backwards slightly before going cross-eyed to stare at it, and then you’re glaring at him again. His phone is ringing in his hand. “I gotta take this.”
“Wha–” you try to interrupt him, but he just says shhh and shakes his finger in front of you, which makes you want to bite it off.
“Hi, Donna!” he exclaims into his phone, “so good to hear from you. Oh, no, not at all, you caught me at the perfect time. I’m just washing my car. Nah, you’re not interrupting anything.”
The urge to smack him consumes you.
“Oh okay, cool, I’m glad you took some time to think about it. Let me know when you want to meet again, if you’re still interested in the house, we can make an offer. Uh huh. Yeah. Sorry, what’s that? Oh,” he pulls his phone from his ear to look at the time, “yeah, that’s fine. Is that the one on 6th street? Sure, I’ll see you then. By the way, how was little Tommy’s soccer game yesterday?...Aw, that’s okay, he’ll get the next one. Hm? Yeah, what’s up? Oh, you know that I’d love to, and there’s no one that enjoys your green bean casserole more than I do, but I’m actually busy tonight! I know! Bummer! Maybe some other time? Alright. Yeah, thanks, you too. Take care. Bye.” He presses the end call on his phone, and there’s an awkward silence as he narrows his eyes at the screen in concentration for a moment while typing something onto it, and then the corner of his eye catches sight of something in his periphery, that something being you, and he jumps a little.
“Oh fuck,” he places a hand on his chest and exhales, “I didn’t know you were still standing there.”
“I’m seriously going to whack you across the face with my lunch box right now.”
“That gigantic industrial lunch box you carry around for your 12-hour shifts?” he points at your hand, “you’d have blood on your hands. I’d be dead.”
“Yeah, that’s the goal, idiot.”
“You’re so fucking violent, jeez, I bet the inside of your head looks like the inside of Jeffrey Dahmer’s. How do you sleep at night?”
“With fifteen milligrams of melatonin, blackout curtains, a satin sleeping mask, and in the mornings.”
“...that didn’t make you sound like any less of a serial killer.”
“Whatever, at least I don’t have a complex for elderly divorced women. You know that what you do for work isn’t any better than prostitution, right?”
“Okay. Now I have to hear where you’re going with this.”
You cross your arms across your chest, and your gigantic industrial sized lunch box with the millions of glass containers inside of it hits your hip painfully, enough to warrant a wince, but you keep a straight face as to not show any weakness. “You flirt with vulnerable women who have just gotten out of probably extremely heartbreaking marriages from their cheating country golf club husbands, and pretend to care about all their drama, just so that they’d buy a house from you. I literally heard you say to a lady the other day,” and you do your absolute best to mock him in the most insulting way possible, “‘it’s okay Lorraine. If you’re still struggling to fill your new house with someone new too, then you know where to find me.’”
“Yeah. She wanted to rent out her guest bedroom. I was gonna help her look for tenants.”
“O-Oh,” you stutter, but stand up straighter, “doesn’t matter. You still pimp yourself out for a sale.”
“So what if I do? I’m hot, why wouldn’t I take advantage of that? You could’ve done the same thing too, but you didn’t, and now you’re stuck working miserable nursing shifts that are probably taking years off of your lifespan.”
“You’re the one taking years off of my lifespan. Now move your fucking boat.”
He sighs and slips his phone back into his pocket before walking past you to your car, that still had the driver’s side door open and was idle in the middle of the street.
“W-Where are you going?” you ask.
“I’m gonna park your car in your garage for you,” he says, waving his hand up in the air dismissively because he knows you’re about to protest, and then he ducks his head into your car, reaching his arm in for the lever that moves the seat backwards, and adjusts it all the way back before he’s able to take a seat at the wheel. And your yelling is a pestering he pays no mind to as he shuts the door.
“Wait– I didn’t give you permission to–” you shout as you step into your driveway, holding your arms out because you’re scared he’s gonna chip off your side mirror on the stern of his boat, but he deftly pulls your car into the driveway. He also almost runs you over in the process.
When he gets out of your car inside your garage, you storm right up to him and yank your car keys out of his hand. “You almost flattened me over my own driveway.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have been standing there,” he easily retorts and leans against your car before crossing his arms over his chest. “Also, case proven, there’s more than enough space to pull your car in. You’re just piss poor at parking.”
“I swear to fucking god. If you’re ever in a life-threatening emergency and wind up at my hospital, your emergency isn’t going to be the thing that kills you, it’s gonna be the cocktail of deadly meds I inject straight into your veins. And I’ll have it charted like it was a death of natural causes.”
His brow furrows and he frowns, but it’s in that sarcastic way that tells you he’s not threatened by you, and the idea of using the taser in your purse on him is briefly entertained in your mind, “I’ve got Kaiser, hun,” he says, “I wouldn’t go to just any regional hospital for healthcare. Put some damn decorum on my name, Jesus.”
“How is it you’re stupid, an asshole, have a sick fetish for elderly women, and also somehow classist at the same time? Can you pick a struggle please?”
“Stop saying I have a fetish for elderly women,” he hisses at you, “especially with that loud obnoxious voice of yours. Our neighbors are gonna think I’m a creep.” He pretends to shiver.
“But it’s true. I bet you lost your virginity to a fifty-year-old cougar the day you turned eighteen. And to one that was probably grooming you even before then, too.”
His eyes widen. “Damn. How’d you know.”
“That you’re a victim?” you ask, tone derisive, “your entire personality is living proof. Please seek help.”
He rolls his eyes. “I was never groomed, and I didn’t lose my virginity to an elderly woman,” he corrects you, “...although said woman was a little older than me.”
“I’ve literally got no fucking interest in this conversation anymore. Get the fuck out of my garage,” you practically spat at him, “the last thing I need to deal with after getting off of a 12-hour night shift is coming home to your stupid face out on the street.” You push past him, making sure to nudge him with your shoulder but he hardly budges, and you lose balance from your own attack, and now you’re doubly pissed off before you make it to the door with your keys jingling in your hand to find the right one to unlock it.
“Good night,” he calls out to you, and you click the button on the garage door so that it starts closing, and watch him as he panics before ducking his head underneath it to make it outside before you can essentially lock him to rot inside of your garage, and then you shut the door behind you, finally inside the comfort of your home.
Ah. Silence.
But it was never a comfortable one.
“Mom?” you call out as you open the door out of the laundry room to make it into the living room, and your eyes scan the floor. You don’t see her in the kitchen, or on the couch in front of the TV, sometimes she spends time in the pantry room but she’s not in there today. You round the corner over to where the front entrance of the house is, and you see her standing there, peering out of the window to the other houses on the streets. She holds her hands loosely behind her back, and she’s so still she could be a statue.
“Hey,” you say to her, softly, so as not to startle her. “I’m home.”
She looks over her shoulder at you, and you realize her line of sight was set to next door, where you see Gojo has resumed the wash of his car. “Why are you yelling at that sweet boy across the lawn?” she asks you, “he helped me fix the air conditioning last week.”
Your eyes widen slightly, but then you sigh. Typical Gojo getting involved where he should really just mind his own business. “I’m pretty sure by fix you mean he just pressed a bunch of buttons on the thermostat until it started working again.”
She doesn’t respond as she continues to stare out onto the street, tilting her head slightly while deep in thought, like she’s trying to make sense of what she sees.
“Mom,” you gently tug her sleeve, “I think you should get away from the window and get some rest. You look tired, and I need to take you for chemo in the afternoon.”
She gently pulls her elbow away from your grip of her sleeve and turns to look at you. “Mom?” she repeats after you, “why are you calling me ‘mom’? Who are you?”
Your blood runs cold from her words, but you don’t have the time or the luxury to react in the way that you want to, and so you suck in a deep breath. It was one of those days. But it’s cruel that she’ll remember your neighbor and not her own daughter. “I’m your daughter,” you gently reintroduce yourself, to the woman who gave you life, “I know that might be a little weird to hear right now.”
“No…” she says, “I think that makes sense. I’m sorry, dear, I think I have a bad memory these days.” She looks at you with concentration, studying the features of your face. “My daughter, yes. You look…oh, dear, you look like you should sleep.”
You nod slowly, releasing the breath you were holding. “Yes. You too, mom.”
You place your gigantic industrial lunch box on the kitchen counter, and come back to hold your mom’s hands as you lead her to her bedroom downstairs. By the time you fix her a small meal in the kitchen, bring it to her and make her eat so she can take her pills, she’s ready to take a small nap and you know that you’ve earned some sleep now too.
The upstairs master bathroom beckons you the second you get upstairs, and even though you’ve been using the master bedroom & bathroom in this house ever since moving your mom downstairs four years ago since she had trouble getting up the stairs, it still feels odd to stand in front of the sink without a stool underneath your feet, like what you had to when you were a kid and your mother would braid your hair. You’re a grown woman now, and as you stare at your reflection, you’re not sure if you can recognize yourself anymore. But rather than dwell on if it was because of any profound reason, you figured you just needed a shower and to get some sleep before you have to wake up again in five hours. Exhaustion is evident on your face, and you swipe under your eyes to get the smudge of mascara off before it tattoos your skin forever.
Hot water on your skin does little to help your drowsiness, but at least now you feel clean of your shift, and then you remember there are blood stains on your shoes from the stab wound patient that rolled in at 2AM last night, and you should really let them soak for a few hours while you sleep, but you just can’t bother right now. Instead, you slip into something comfortable, draw your curtains back to mimic the dead of night in your room as best as you can, grab the bottle of melatonin sitting at your nightstand and pop a few tablets, feeling feverish as you slip into your sheets. You pull the comforter up over your eyes, a decision that is less ideal than using a sleeping mask since you’ll be breathing your own carbon dioxide until you fall asleep now, but it’s okay. It’s cozy under your blanket. Just this once. And you count sheep to make you sleepy. At least until the melatonin beats you to it.
—
“You’re looking better,” Dr. Johnson says to your mother as he accesses the port on her chest, “were you able to get a good rest?”
Your mother nods and points to you. “My daughter made me take a nap.”
“That’s good,” he coos, “it’s good to get rest before chemo. Your daughter really cares about you.”
“I know,” your mother smiles up at you, “I’m so lucky.” You return her smile with one of your own.
Dr. Johnson starts to push the line of chemo into your mother’s port as she sits on the chair in the treatment lounge, and then stands up from his rolling chair before the nurse quickly moves to twiddle with the drip of the IV bag.
“Ready for consult?” he asks you.
You grip your binder to your chest. “Yeah.”
You walk into the doctor’s office, one you’ve more than familiarized yourself with over the past couple of years, then take a seat across from Dr. Johnson’s desk as he clicks through his computer before handing you a copy of your mother’s recent lab work.
“Her tumor markers are rising,” you say as you sift through the papers.
“They are, we’ll likely switch to monitoring them every four weeks going forward. But it’s okay, not to worry,” he says, “tumor markers can raise for all sorts of reasons unrelated to cancer.”
“She had a cold last week,” you say, “maybe it’s the inflammation?”
Dr. Johnson lets out a small laugh. “I’m sorry, y/n, sometimes I forget you’re a nurse.” He hums to himself as he pens down something on the notepad in front of him. “When was your mother’s last PET/CT scan?”
“It was in February,” you say, “she’s due soon. I was going to ask if you could order one for her.”
“Yes, I will, I’ll do it right now,” he says as he types something into the computer. “You still have the standing orders for her routine lab work, correct? Do my MAs need to send you the scripts?”
“No, that’s okay, I got them already. Good for six months,” you reassure him.
“Alright, perfect.”
There’s an awkward silence that settles in the room as you shift in your seat with the binder in your lap, full of all of your mother’s medical information and emergency department discharge packets and recent lab work and imaging. You mess with the plastic cover on top of it nervously.
“It’s good she remembers you today,” Dr. Johnson comments, “I remember last week you were upset she didn’t.”
“Oh,” you say, “yeah, I’m sorry. Sometimes it’s hard.”
His eyes leave his computer screen for a second to look at you. “Are you doing alright?”
You nod slowly. You had to be alright, you had no other choice. “I’m fine, thanks,” you say, “um, actually, doc, I just wanted to share with you that I’ve been keeping track of my mom’s Alzheimer’s progression.” You open your binder in your lap, pulling out a packet of papers and placing them on his desk, turning some of them towards him but he doesn’t really spare a proper enough look. “I’ve just been noticing she’s progressively worsening a bit faster than her neurologist had projected.”
“Okay,” he says, sounding curt, and that nervousness comes back. But goddammit, you’re a nurse, you know how to deal with stubborn doctors. And it’s for your mother. There was no one else left to advocate for her except you.
“I was just wondering if we could also order a brain MRI for her?” you ask, “just to rule out anything…her brain fog has been bad, worse than usual, and I’m just really worried about metastasis, especially if it’s a glioma, I’d just want to catch it as soon as possible.”
You have sympathy for oncologists, really, you do. They must deal with paranoid family members all the time, but how could someone blame another for wanting what’s best for their loved one? You don’t think that’s an empathy that anyone should ever lose, regardless of how long you’ve been practicing medicine.
He sighs. “There’s no indication for that right now, not with her response to treatment as well as her lab work. I’d suggest we just wait on her next PET/CT results, and we can go from there. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, okay?”
“I know,” you say, “but her next scan isn’t for another couple weeks, plus the week it’ll take to have it read, it’ll be far out, so…if we could just order it now?”
He interlocks his fingers and places his hands in front of him on the desk, looking at you with a stern face, but he glances down at the paperwork you’ve sprawled in front of him with scribblings of all the detailed notes you’ve been taking of your mom’s responses to her Alzheimer’s treatments, with time stamps and descriptions of her mental state, and his furrowed brow relaxes slightly. He breathes in deep. “Alright. Fine, I’ll order one. I highly doubt we’ll find anything, though. But since there’s no clear clinical impression warranting a brain MRI right now,” he mentions as he directs his attention back to his computer, “I don’t think insurance will cover it for you with the diagnoses I put in.”
“That’s okay,” you quickly respond, “I’ll pay for it.”
You collect your imaging orders from the medical assistants at the center of the oncology floor. The chemo nurse, Mai, informs you that your mother still has about two hours left before her treatment is done, and she gently suggests you go eat something while you wait. You tell her it’s okay, that you want to wait with her, but she tells you the hospital cafeteria is serving tater tots today for tater tot tuesday, and those tater tots are to die for. But before you go downstairs to the cafeteria, you find a few minutes to cry in a one stall bathroom.
—
“God damn,” you hear your coworker, Hana, dreamily sigh as she leans on the handle on your standing mobile nursing work desk, and you trail her line of sight to the tight asses of the EMT men that walk by while rolling a stretcher. “It’s like being hot is a part of their job requirement.”
“Uh-huh,” you agree mindlessly as you try to catch up on charting for the rounds you just ran on your patients around the emergency department beds.
4/20/2024 0200: patient notified of the importance of taking ibuprofen. Attempted to give pt the medication. Pt responded “suck on this, bitch”, gestured to his general groin area, then threw ibuprofen tablets at RN. pt upset and requests narcotics instead. Informed MD of pt’s behavior and request. MD will not order narcotic pain medication at this time. Will continue to monitor
“How’s your mom doing?” Hana says, interrupting your typing as she turns to face you now.
“She’s okay,” you say, continuing to punch keys as you stare at your monitor, “she has a PET/CT soon. It’s always nerve wracking when the next scan is coming up.”
“Have you given hospice any more thought?” she asks.
You stop typing and stare blankly ahead at your screen as your heart sinks a little. You have given hospice more thought, and you came to the decision about a week ago that you would go through with it. It’s becoming so increasingly difficult taking care of your mom at home, more than you can manage with all of her doctor’s appointments, radiation appointments, chemotherapy appointments, all of which happen during the late mornings or early afternoons so you can’t even properly rest on most days that you come home from night shifts. Even though you only work three shifts a week, you can’t remember the last time you got a full, uninterrupted eight hours of sleep because of how messed up your circardian rhythm has become. You were practically a walking zombie, and you hardly felt like a person anymore. You’re not going to switch to the day shift, because that would make it difficult to take your mom to her appointments, and also because you get paid extra with the night shift differential, and above all other necessities, what you really needed right now the most was money. Forget the fact you’re still in debt from nursing school, but you co-signed on the medical loans your mother had taken out for treatments, and five years of high acuity medical bills was a living nightmare. And you were living that nightmare.
“I did,” you say, “I’ve been looking into hospices, but a lot of them are further away than I’d like.” You glance down at your keyboard. “I…I’m going to miss having my mom home. Even though it’s hard to deal with her mood swings and stuff sometimes, I just think the house would feel really empty without her.”
“Aw, my dear,” Hana sighs and rubs her hand up and down your arm soothingly, “I’m sure you’d love to have her home, but I think it’s becoming too much for you. I say this with love and care, but I can’t remember the last time I saw you genuinely smile.”
Your eyes widen slightly from her words, and you release some of the tension in your shoulders, tension you didn’t even realize you were holding onto during this conversation.
“It’s too much for just one person,” she continues, “while I understand you want to spend more time with your mom, the quality of time you’re spending with her could be so much better if you had some weight lifted off your shoulders, where you’re not worrying about her medication schedule or doctor’s appointments or blood draws and all that.”
You nod slowly and manage to give her a small smile, then place your hand over hers that was still soothing over your arm. “Thanks, Hana. I know, I appreciate you looking out for me. I…I think I’ll look more seriously into hospices. It’s just they’re really expensive, too, so I have that to consider as well.”
“Hmm,” she withdraws her hand from you and juts her bottom lip out as she looks up at fluorescent emergency department lighting. You hear a patient cough in the distance as your senses take in the ambient environment once again. “Y’know, there’s this really great new hospice in town that functions as a general facility and also helps manage a lot of chronic diseases too. They have nurses there that do blood draws and everything, and they also transport patients to their affiliated hospital for treatments, like dialysis and chemo and stuff. My friend’s mom has breast cancer and was recently accepted into that hospice,” she tells you, pulling her phone out and looking through some of her messages, “I think it’s only a fifteen minute drive from your house.”
You tilt your head at her with interest, wondering why it didn’t come up on your provider search through insurance, but regardless, it sounded too good to be true. “It’s probably really expensive. My mom’s under the state insurance right now, but I’ve explored government insurance plans too and they’re still really pricey. I just can’t afford it, not with all of her cancer treatments, and adding her under my insurance isn’t really going to be any better either.”
She groans. “I know. What’s with our healthcare plan? You’d think as a hospital, they’d choose better plans for their employees,” she sighs, and then stops to read some of the messages on her phone, “but my friend said that her husband was able to add her mom as a dependant, and his insurance covers 90% of it. I’m sure it depends on the illness, but they only pay a few thousand per month out of pocket.”
You blink at her. “Really? T-That’s insane…do you know what insurance her husband has?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s a Kaiser facility.”
“Oh,” you sigh, “well, they wouldn’t accept state insurance. That’s a private HMO.”
“Shoot,” Hana looks at you apologetically, “I’m so sorry, love, I forgot about that. Sorry to get your hopes up.”
“That’s okay,” you smile at her, “thanks for trying. I’m glad it worked out for your friend, at least.”
Hana glances at her watch and realizes her break is over, so she heads back to her side of the emergency department, and you’re left standing at the nursing station with thoughts running through your head now, and still catastrophically behind on charting.
Hmm.
Kaiser.
You swear someone mentioned that to you recently.
Or maybe you were just remembering another one of those ads you see on television at night. No, no, you’re pretty sure it came up in conversation with someone, but you can’t remember when or why or what or where or who. Hmmmmm. Kaiser, Kaiser, Kaiser.
Nope. Nothing.
Oh well, maybe it’ll hit you later.
—
It hits you in the form of an intrusive memory when you wake up on a Thursday afternoon in a cold sweat after having a hallucinogenic melatonin dream where you were getting chased by a giant rabbit (don’t ask).
Kaiser.
Gojo said he has Kaiser insurance.
And the idea that comes into your head after that is so ridiculous, so absurd, so positively bonkers that you have to slap the sleepiness off your face for a second to make sure you’re still not in some dream state of living, and the harsh sting on your cheek proves that you’re not. And the idea still persists. And now you’re swinging your legs over the edge of your bed, and grabbing your laptop, and opening it, and inputting your pin, and then spending a good three hours researching if this little idea of yours actually has any good level of merit to it, if it could even succeed, if it was even legal? You even find yourself on the phone with insurance representatives, and you stare at the tens of thousands of dollars of debt on your Excel spreadsheet where you keep track of your finances, and you feel the exhaustion in your bones, and you also remember how fucking annoying Gojo is. And yet still, the idea persists.
And when the pieces of the plan start to unfortunately fall into place, you say, fuck it. What was worse than potentially getting into six figures of debt? It’ll be fine.
But you can only hope he says yes.
.
.
.
[reading commercial break]
hello!! this is ellie, the author. so sorry to interrupt, there is still a bit left for this chapter, but i just wanted to jump in here real quick to explain for some of my readers that may not be american so they may understand reader’s desperation to financially cover the costs of her mother’s healthcare bills. this story is set in suburban america lol, where the healthcare system is so messed up honestly, and this excerpt from the book the body by bill bryson kinda explains:
“Where America really differs from other countries is in the colossal costs of its health care. An angiogram, a survey by The New York Times found, costs an average of $914 in the United States, but only $35 in Canada. Insulin costs about six times as much in America as it does in Europe. The average hip replacement costs $40,364 in America, almost six times the cost in Spain, while an MRI scan in the United States is, at $1,121, four times more than in the Netherlands. The entire system is notoriously unwieldy and cost-heavy.” p360; “...America spends more on health care than any other nation–two and a half times more per person than the average for all other developed nations of the world. One-fifth of all the money Americans earn–$10,209 a year for every citizen, $3.2 trillion altogether–is spent on health care.” p359
unfortunately, a lot of how much you end up spending at the end of the day, depends significantly on the health insurance that you have. it could make the difference of spending a few hundreds to a few thousands to a few tens of thousands and beyond, just based on the insurance plan, even if the illnesses/treatments are exactly the same.
but yeah, just wanted to provide that context lol!! so you must understand reader’s desperation to save a buck!!!
ok back to regularly scheduled broadcasting!! 🧚♀️💕✨
[end of reading commercial break]
.
.
.
—
You’re sitting at a table outside your favorite cafe in town, leg bouncing up and down underneath the surface impatiently and nervously, and you glance at the time on your phone for the fifth time within the past five minutes because you’re unable to alleviate any of the anxiety you’re experiencing right now. You hear the jingling of the cafe door behind you and then you’re a little startled when someone emerges in your periphery by your side.
You look up and see Gojo standing next to you, and you see he already went inside and grabbed a coffee to-go for himself.
“Hey,” he greets you.
“Hi,” you say with a small wave.
He takes a seat across from you. “What did you want to talk about?” he asks while he settles in and smooths down the fabric of his suit jacket. He’s not wearing a tie, and has a couple of the top buttons of his shirt undone to reveal some of the skin at his collarbone. Probably to seduce the divorced single moms, you think. “And if you called me here to try and convince me for the millionth time to pitch in for that fence you built six months ago, I’m just gonna say no again. I didn’t even want that fence built in the first place. It fucked up the roots on my avocado tree.”
“It’s a joint fence. Neighbors usually pitch in for that kind of stuff, asshole. At least normal neighbors do. You know I talked shit about you to everyone in the neighborhood when you refused to pay and all of them agree that you’re being a stuck-up prick about it?”
“You know that I also talked shit about you to everyone in the neighborhood and they said the same exact thing about you?”
“Wha–” you gasp, blinking a few times from the betrayal, then mutter “...those two-faced bitches” under your breath.
“So,” he pulls his sleeve back to glance at his watch, “what did you want? I’ve only got thirty minutes to talk before I need to head to an open house.” He brings his cup of coffee to his lips.
“Oh. Right. Just a favor,” you say, “I was wondering if you could marry me.”
He almost spits out his coffee.
“E-Excuse me?” he croaks out, exasperated, and he’s coughing a little bit as he hits his chest with a fist to alleviate the irritation in his throat from some hot coffee that went down the wrong pipe.
“I mean, if it’s not an issue, I’d really appreciate it if you could marry me,” you attempt to clarify, but you realize you probably should’ve thought a little more about how you were going to ask him this, and now you’re too deep to backtrack, so you just hope you’ll find the conversation along the way.
He’s looking at you like you’ve got six heads, brow furrowed and mouth hanging open slightly with that what the fuck? face you see him wear sometimes. But then he sits up a bit straighter, expression morphing into a curious one as he studies your face, head tilting a little in his scrutinization. Then, his face relaxes entirely. He has this knowing look as he nods up and down slowly, like he just figured something out, and then he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose in some type of faux frustration. And you don’t understand why you’re already seethingly angry about what he’s going to say next.
“Oh god,” he sighs, “I knew this day would come.”
“Huh?” you squeak out.
“Listen,” he says as he crosses his arms, but one of his hands comes out from where it was tucked in his elbow to waive around in the air as he articulates his words, “I know that I’m very charming, and handsome, and chivalrous, one might say the modern knight in shining armor–”
“Satoru.”
“–and yes, I’ve seen the way you look at me,” he dramatically sighs, “when I’m taking the groceries up the driveway…when I’m out mowing the lawn…when I stretch on the sidewalk before I go for a run. I feel your eyes on me like a hawk. Quite frankly, you look at me like I’m a piece of meat, and I feel very violated by it sometimes–”
“What the fuck are you talking about???”
“But I get it. Really, I do. There’s no need to be embarrassed about it–”
“I’m not embar–”
“It was really only a matter of time before you would do this. So overcome by your feelings for me that you just had to go against the grain of centuries of matrimonial standards and swallow your gigantic pride to propose to me.”
“Oh my god, what the fuck are you saying–”
“But,” he says, collecting himself now, and taking in a deep breath, “my answer is no. I mean, I shouldn’t have to explain why. But I will. First of all, where the hell is my ring? Secondly, why aren’t you on one knee in front of me right now? Also, in a cafe? Really? I thought you would’ve known I’d have liked something a little bit more romantic than this. Y’know, private, but also where my family’s somewhere around the corner. Maybe by the beach–”
“Can you stop talkin–”
“–while the sun is setting, and I’m wearing a nice dress, and there’s bubbles in the air and rose petals on the sand, and you tell me how enamored you’ve always been of me, and how you can’t wait to spend the rest of your life with me,” he indulgently sighs, “I mean, it’s every guy’s dream. But nooooo, of course you’ve got no taste or sense for romance in any capac–”
“OH MY FUCKING GOD, FORGET THIS,” you stand up out of your chair, fast enough to where it almost falls backwards, and you grab your purse to sling over your shoulder, “I cannot believe I actually thought this plan would ever fucking work.” You’re about to walk away from the table, because you’re realigned with the wisdom of exactly why you can’t stand this man, when his hand reaches out quickly to grasp onto your wrist, to keep you still, and you jump a little from the contact. You look down, his hand unrelenting in its grip as his knuckles flex slightly, and you’re not sure if he’s ever touched you from how foreign the sensation feels.
“Wait,” he says, and when you look at him, his eyes are a little wide like a puppy, “you’re being serious?”
You yank your wrist out of his grip, but the warmth of his touch still lingers, and you wrap your own hand around it to distract yourself from it. “Why would I just ask you to marry me out of nowhere if I wasn’t being serious?”
He gives you a look like the answer to your question is obvious. “Uh, to fuck with me?”
You’re still holding onto your wrist, protectively pressing it against your chest with your back turned away from him slightly, and you look up at the sky for a brief second. Hm, perhaps you could have brought the favor up a bit better, and you realize it might’ve sounded insane on his end, and you’re also still thinking about the tens of thousands of dollars you could save if he said yes, and so you hesitantly open your body language up to him again.
“Just sit,” he sighs.
You take a seat across from him again, hands finding the warm coffee cup in front of you and you purse your lips together before tucking your bottom lip under your front teeth. You take a deep breath before speaking again. “I…I’m being serious. I was wondering if you could marry me as a favor, and not because I think you’re some type of irresistible man candy, god, where do you get your gigantic ego from?”
“I–”
“Rhetorical question, shut it.”
He blinks at you. “What favor are you asking for that’ll be satisfied by me marrying you?”
You twiddle with your thumbs. “I want to put my mom in hospice,” you say, eyes flickering down slightly because you’re worried you’re about to tear up from the words, but when you realize you’ve got enough conviction not to, you look back up at him, and his eyes on you are a little too observant, “most of the hospices in town are further away than I’d like, and really expensive, but I heard there was a Kaiser one nearby…and that a lot of the costs are covered by insurance. So, if you married me, I could send my mom there. And also, under your insurance, the care network would be better, so I could get her a new oncologist and neurologist, and I’d know she’s being taken care of. And…” you clear your throat, “well, it’ll be a lot less expensive, so I can start to catch up on…well, whatever, you get the picture.”
His eyes narrow at you in thought, and he glances at your hands on the table that are nervously fidgeting, and then his eyes meet yours again. “I’m not sure if you can add a…spouse’s parent to a healthcare plan?”
“You can,” you say, “I already called to ask.”
“Oh.”
“Mhm.”
Gojo hums to himself, laying his palms flat on his thighs and rubbing them back and forth on the taut fabric a few times as he thinks with his gaze set off somewhere in the distance. It seems like he’s running through some algorithm of thoughts in his head, and then he slowly nods to himself when he’s made a decision.
“Sure, I’ll do it,” he says.
“Y-You will?” you ask him. You’re uneasy at how easy it was to convince.
“Yeah. I like your mom. She’s a sweet lady, and I want to see her get better.”
His words touch you. And not from the distance of a ten foot pole like you’d usually allow, but more intimate somehow. And you get the feeling you should thank him, but you’re still pissed off from when he almost ran you over on your own driveway earlier this week.
“Really?” you make sure, almost like you’re hoping he’ll change his mind because now you’re suspicious as to why he agreed so quickly. And you realize he’s already making you paranoid.
“Yeah. I’m saying yes to your proposal, y/n,” he says, “I mean, a marriage is just a legal agreement. Not a big deal. I’d want a prenup though, for obvious reasons. In case you’re a gold digger.”
You roll your eyes. “You’re too cheap to even pitch in for a fucking fence. You think I’d believe you’ve got any gold to dig?”
He sighs. “I said in case.”
“Well, anyways, we can work out logistics and paperwork or whatever later,” you say, and you extend your hand out for him to shake it.
He raises an eyebrow at you. “Um. You’re going to make me shake your hand over this?”
“Yeah,” you shrug, “it’s the diplomatic thing to do.”
“Yes,” he says, “for a diplomatic agreement.”
“Precisely,” you say. “That’s exactly what this is.”
He hesitantly brings his hand up to shake yours, but you quickly withdraw yours at the last second. “Nevermind. I don’t want to touch you.”
“Okay,” he easily accepts, “not how I expected to celebrate getting engaged, but whatever. By the way, when’s the wedding? Are we doing, like, a shotgun destination type vibe? Or something a bit more grand?”
“Just be at the courthouse at noon on Sunday.”
“What?! This weekend? That’s too soon,” he panics, “I need time to pick out a dress, and I need to figure out who my bridesmaids are going to be, and–”
“Satoru. Seriously. Just–...just shut the fuck up. Before the headache that you’ve already given me gets worse.”
You two sit in silence for a moment, him just mindlessly staring at a butterfly that landed on the plant at the center of the table, and you just stare off into the void past him while contemplating every life decision you’ve ever made. But that’s how it always was between you two. As much as you hated to admit it, you were jealous of him in a lot of ways. In every way that you were fucked up, he was nonchalant without a care in the world. You wish you knew what that sort of peace felt like, and you wondered if he could show you. Maybe someday when he doesn’t piss you off.
“So,” he interrupts your thoughts, “are you gonna take my last name?”
“Fuck no, I’d rather die.”
“Alright, jeez, I was just asking.”
.
.
.
[end of chapter 1]
a/n. yayy!!! he said yes!! omg congrats on ur engagement!! haha this was a lot of fun to writeee :'') i've got sm fun ideas for this fic. yea this chap was supposed to be longer lol there's still some groundwork to lay w the side quests, but will def cover more of that in the next chapter!!! tysm to everyone that wanted to be on taglist omg i hope that you enjoyed <33 love uuu guysss smmmm also my bad if some stuff doesnt make sense i'm tryna be less perfectionist when i'm editing so that i don't go insane 😍
➸ take me to chapter two!
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#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x reader smut#gojo x reader fluff#gojo x reader angst#jjk gojo#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru angst#gojo satoru fluff#smut#fluff#angst#gojo satoru fanfiction#gojo x you#long fic#jjk fanfiction#jjk series#romance#fake dating#fake marriage#neighbors au#ongoing series#humor#slow burn#mutual pining#enemies to lovers#gojo x reader series
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could u do Rafe x Thornton!reader where maybe instead of pope sinking toppers boat they’re acc trying to sink readers boat while her and Rafe are on it and pope runs into her or smth???
The forbidden zone || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader
A/n: idk if i like this one, especially the ending 😭
Warnings: literally just swearing
Word count: 737
MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)
divider by @h-aewo
Pope’s eyes widen in disbelief as he takes in the sight of the gleaming Ferretti Yachts 580 docked outside your house. The yacht’s sleek design and shiny exterior exude luxury and wealth. JJ, equally stunned, stares at the boat with his mouth slightly agape.
“This is war, Pope,” JJ declares, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and determination. “They hit us, so we hit them right back.” Pope swallows hard, trying to process the sight before him. “Is that even Topper’s boat? Could be his parents’ or—”
JJ cuts him off, pulling up his neck gaiter with a resolute shrug. “Who cares? It’s parked outside their place, so they must own it.” With a resigned exhale, Pope peels off his shirt, his frustration palpable. He takes a deep breath, then leaps into the water.
~
With your AirPods in, you’re sprawled out on the sun lounger of your family’s newest yacht, basking in the luxury of the latest addition to their boat collection. This sleek, state-of-the-art vessel was a birthday gift, a perfect upgrade from your parents’ previous boat. Topper, with his 2020 Malibu, seemed downright envious in comparison.
You’re sipping on a chilled iced tea when your timer chimes, signaling it’s time to flip over. Deciding you need to reapply some sunscreen, you rise from your seat, looking around for Rafe, who is somewhere aboard the boat.
Removing your AirPods and humming along to a catchy tune, you stroll around the yacht. “Rafe?” you call out. “Babe, where are you—” As you turn a corner, you come to an abrupt halt, your eyes widening in shock.
Pope stands there, his face a mix of panic and surprise. “What are you doing here?” you demand, crossing your arms as you take in his distress. Your gaze shifts to the open door leading down into the bilge, and a sense of dread washes over you. “Uh…” Pope stammers, his fear palpable. You quickly piece together the situation and realise something is wrong.
Without wasting another second, you dash towards the bilge, your heart pounding in your chest. The area is dimly lit and cluttered with machinery. You scan the space rapidly, searching for any signs of trouble. Suddenly, you hear a loud splash and bolt outside, only to see Pope frantically swimming away from the boat.
“What the fuck?!” you yell, disbelief and anger mingling in your voice. The sound of hurried footsteps reaches your ears, and you turn to see Rafe approaching with a look of panic. “What? What happened?” he asks urgently.
“I found Pope snooping around the bilge,” you say quickly, your voice tight with anxiety. Rafe’s eyes widen, and his jaw drops as he processes the information. “What? Where the fuck is he now?” Rafe demands, his gaze following your finger as you point toward Pope’s boat. You both watch in stunned silence as Pope scrambles aboard his boat with the help of some blonde you could only imagine to be JJ.
Rafe’s frustration is palpable as he watches Pope’s boat disappear into the distance. He turns to you, his face etched with concern. “Did he touch you? Are you okay?” His hands grasp yours firmly, his eyes scanning your body for any signs of injury or distress. You shake your head, assuring him that you’re unharmed.
“What was he even doing here?” Rafe mutters, his voice a mix of confusion and anger. He pushes past you, heading briskly toward the open bilge door. “Do you think he was trying to sink the boat?” you ask, your voice tinged with worry as you lean against the doorway, watching him intently.
“Why the fuck would he do that?” Rafe snaps back, irritation colouring his tone. “I don’t know,” you reply, your voice tinged with frustration. “But why else would he be in the bilge room?” Rafe exhales sharply, his annoyance momentarily giving way to concern.
He turns to you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close. His hands rest possessively on the curve of your hips, and you can feel the warmth of his body against yours. You lean in and press a gentle kiss to his neck.
“I think I should go tell Mum,” you say with a sigh, reluctantly pulling away from his embrace. Rafe nods, his expression firm and serious as he watches you walk off. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he scrolls through his contacts before clicking on Toppers contact.
Rafe
You won't fucking believe who snuck into your sister's boat while we were on it.
#rafe cameron x thornton!reader#drew starkey#rafe cameron#fanfiction#outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x y/n#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x you#obx fanfiction#rafe cameron x oc#rafe imagine#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron imagine#rafe x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron outer banks#dark rafe cameron#outer banks x reader#outerbanks rafe#outer banks x you#outer banks x y/n#drew starkey x you#drew starkey x female reader#drew starkey x oc#outer banks fanfiction#outerbanks
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i can see you. max verstappen (18+)
“ you brush past me in the hallway / and you don't think i, i, i can see ya, do ya? ”
max verstappen x fem!wolff!reader
smut. don’t interact if you’re under 18. alcohol consumption, profanity.
Your eyes follow the box of gum being passed around in the car. You sit in the left backseat; the blacked out car is filled with four Mercedes employees that are painful strangers.
The girl next to you offers you a stick of the gum, which you accept gratefully. It’s Saturday morning, and your elbows bump against hers as you try to adjust your earphones.
The Fleetwood Mac album floats through your ears, bringing forward memories of being a little kid dancing in someone’s room to the CD. You must’ve been in between your mom and dad then. You tense slightly at the memory, and the rapid German that fills the car from the other four makes you feel soothed.
Entering the paddock, some summery song is floating through your AirPods, and the tune is hitting different today so you smile.
The photographers obviously take the opportunity that your smile brings to snap pictures (you’re usually grumpy) and you’re standing in front of Red Bull’s garage talking to some girls who work there that you clubbed with a while back when he walks out, brushing past, his fingers accidentally grazing your forearm.
You feel full of fire as you look away from the group to look at him and his eyes meet yours, looking back. The moment is interrupted by your mother calling on the phone, and you excuse yourself to go back to Mercedes’ motorhome.
🎱☕️🏎️💌
You two meet again in Austria.
This time you nod back when he walks past, nodding, and Christian Horner shouts something to Susie that has her fake laughing.
He wins the sprint race, and you catch a glimpse of him after, holding the trophy up in celebration in the paddock. He’s smiling widely, eyes full of laughter, and you’re not. You’re a blur of dark hair and dark eyes and a dismissive look across the pathway and he’s staring and you’re turning away, feeling burned.
That Sunday night (he wins the race) you find each other for a split second in the club; you’re talking to some guy and he yaps your ear off while you stare at him across the dance floor.
Then Max turns around and finds your face amongst the masses, indifferent before turning back.
You nod to the empty air.
🎱☕️🏎️💌
At Silverstone you’re much happier below the podium, and Lando pours champagne directly on your head from above as you screech.
Max watches.
You’re hugging Lewis afterwards when those icy eyes are on you again, and a feeling races through you as you turn around to shake his hand amicably. A bolt of energy rushes through you as his hand grasps yours, and you’re not sure what he says above the noise but you smile and say ‘well done’ like your father raised you.
🎱☕️🏎️💋
Budapest is warm. You see him on Wednesday night on the river.
You’re donning a short skirt and a strappy top, eager to curb the discomfort of the heat.
Lando had organised a boat trip down the Danube and invited you, some other drivers and his friends and all of their partners.
You don’t expect to see Max there; but you’re silly for doing so, because they’re close, aren’t they.
You’ve got an Aperol Spritz when he taps your upper thigh when you walk past and you look down, eyes wide, and he gestures for you to sit next to him.
You sit down on the cushion, legs folding beneath you gracefully as you have this urge to shift the skirt a little bit up your thighs innocently.
His gaze is heavy and intense as he trails it from your exposed thighs to your face, and you look at him neutrally, chatting about some paddock gossip, and to your surprise he acts as if nothing had happened, and indulges in your stupid small talk.
The Aperol disappears and you’re a bit buzzed.
“Your dad spoke to me about you the other day,” he says bluntly, and your lips quirk.
“Really? About what?”
He smirks.
You laugh.
🎱☕️🏎️💋
You’ve convinced him to get a beer in his system an hour later, and your head is resting on your hand, hair falling down as you listen to him talk about his cats.
Carlos comes to join then, and whatever he had going on with you disappears as he talks with the two of you.
You flirt with Carlos anyway, annoyed with the lack of action on his part.
Carlos gladly reciprocates, hand gliding up a thigh after you ask dumb questions and you bite a lip, eyes dark, and Max looks furious.
You lean in to whisper something in Carlos’ ear, red lipstick leaving a mark on his cheek when Max excuses himself and you move closer to the Spaniard, waving goodbye with a smirk on your face.
🎱☕️🏎️💋
You don’t kiss Carlos when the night ends, and you wave him a goodbye, turning to go, when you feel Max’s hand around your wrist.
You turn around and roll your eyes, beginning to walk to the Uber. Max doesn’t say anything, just gets in with you. You choose the middle seat, childishly brushing your bare thigh against his jeans.
You notice he’s screwing his eyes shut, physically refraining from something.
You feel like a teenager trying to seduce a guy and it’s working, you suppose, when you tuck your hair behind your ear, exposing your neck, and he stiffens.
Ten minutes later, at the back entrance of the hotel, you slide out, thanking the driver, and turn to look at Max with your eyebrows raised. He huffs and walks to you, shoving you against the wall.
His lips go to your neck, and you’re still, and he’s kissing you then, hard and intense, and your legs are weak when he slides a hand up your thigh.
You break away, pulling him away inside.
🎱☕️🏎️💋
Stumbling into the hotel room clumsily, he’s pushing you against the bathroom door, and you’re staring at his body against yours in the mirror, and he’s murmuring what a dirty girl you are and you’re shivering with excitement.
“Fuck you,” you whisper when he’s pulling off your top and bra, and he’s laughing incredulously when he’s leaning down and you’re moaning when he starts to brush his thumb against your nipple, and you’re all wriggly when you pull off his shirt and trace his stomach, eyes lidded.
Your eyes go down to his boxers where the outline of his cock is clear and you pull it out, thick and firm, the tip weeping as you brush it and he moans loudly, and he’s kissing you desperately and you’re so wet.
His fingers slide under your skirt and pull down your panties, and he glides his fingertips over your pussy quickly before you’re whining when he nudges your clit, and he’s kissing you again. Your back arches against the door.
He pushes into you and you’re both a mix of curses and delicious moans, and after a moment he begins to move, fast, and after a minute or so you’re screaming his name as he slams into you again and again.
He comes quickly; you smirk as his hips stutter, and his fingers find your clit before you’re begging him for things you can’t explain, and with a minute of his fingers circling your clit roughly, the thickness of his fingertips nudging you over and over with some kind of horrible preciseness, you come, hard. All over his hand. He’s kissing your neck again and again, and you’re staring at him for the first time clearly, this man you know nothing about, and his hand grips your hair as he kisses you again, and you feel alive.
🎱☕️🏎️💋
He’s waiting for you in a passage the next day, and you smile with a spring in your step as you walk straight past, hand touching his for a moment, watching him walk away in your peripheral.
Liked by landonorris, susiewolff and 127,356 others
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🎱☕️🏎️💋
part 2? thoughts? let me knooowww xxxx
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#f1 x you#max verstappen imagine#f1 x reader#f1 smut#max verstappen smut#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen drabble#max verstappen fic#f1 one shot#f1 fic#f1#f1 smau#Spotify
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Still thinking about the fact that we could've got an episode of Sydney and Carmy going on a date going around Chicago, trying different foods, travelling around the city by train and boat, maybe even sharing Syd's airpods and listening to music together. We could've gotten our first non-official date and I'm still crying about it :(
#carmen x sydney#carmy x syd#sydcarmy#sydney x carmy#syd x carmy#sydney adamu#carmen berzatto#jeremy allen white#ayo edebiri#the bear fx#thebearedit#the bear hulu#the bear season 2#the bear#the bear spoilers#the bear s2#everyone moved on but i stayed here
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The Fast and Forbidden
Charles is a famous F1 driver with everything one could want: fame, fortune, and fans. But he is missing one thing. Being his new personal assistant changes everything for both of them.
— chapter 3 An unspoken connection builds up and seeing you half naked gives a top to it, right after your date with another guy
warnings: sexual tension, invading privacy (not the intention), charles is chuckling the charles out of him
.........................................................................
I haven't seen Charles for two days. We haven't even spoken. Right after our shared time behind the piano, his brothers came to his apartment to pick him up for the squash that was apparently delayed. I snapped from my sitting position and awkwardly disappeared, resulting in forgetting about the clothes I wanted to laundry. I felt weird. Torn apart. What the hell happened there? I was still overthinking the whole scenery, me and him playing together. Me and my feelings and him and his words. What the hell was he talking about that I am his boat in whatever ocean it was. My frustration grew extremely and I was mad about everything and I did not know where it came from.
After ruminating on the sofa I had bought two days ago at this new and absolutely with nothing in apartment, I had to buy at least few decent things to it. It is not like I care about it much, I'm not gonna stay here for most of the time and I definitely don't call it home. One thing came to my conclusion. I will go on a date. I don't know how or when yet, but I need to go on a date instead of thinking about the weirdfest that is happening between the two of us. What I didn't know though was the fact that Charles ignored me on purpose. He was cursing himself for saying what he said and he didn't know why he said it. It was like that day, that moment he was someone else. He doesn't do these sweet nothings. He isn't like that. And so he ignored YN as much as he could.
On the way to Japan, the ride was quiet. Charles had his AirPods all the time and all I could do was draw some stuff in my notebook. This is actually the only time where my mind doesn't lead. I don't think and that is when I like it the most. That is when I remembered I wanted to go on a date. I decided I will install these trendy apps that are viral nowadays.
''There you have my keys, we are still in separated rooms, but still.''
He nodded in agreement of hoping that I have some common sense and I know what he implies. As I am grabbing the keys from his hands on the corridor in this fancy hotel in Japan, I don't bother to say anything to him. As I turned around to walk to my apartment he said ''I don't need you for today, you have a free time''
I took a deep breath and encouraged myself to go even faster.
Give me your name and I will give you my last name
These guys hereeee. Ugh. Now I remember why I stopped finding my 'match' on these apps. These guys are cringe asf and the only thing they care about is the color of your panties, not your name. I chuckle as I scroll some more on the sofa in the luxurious living room that I roll my eyes at. Anything that reminds me of Charles is annoying. Luxurious cars, clothes and even hotels are annoying because of him. I fumed and threw the phone next to my lying side. My vision goes blur and black as put my hands over my eyes and try to just breathe. Just when I get into the moment, I receive a notification.
It is some guy called Patrick. I looked at his profile and I have to say I was slightly amused. A nice handsome guy, who is appearing normal. I accepted his offer and in one minute I receive his message.
When I saw your face I could not look away:)
I'm not gonna lie, it did flatter me.
Good for you you didn't:)
I'm Patrick. Not from here, as i see you are not from here either I'm YN. I'm just visiting for few days. Better to make it rememberable
I don't know what this guy was but he intrigued me and I accepted to go on a date with him. I put myself together very nicely and went on a date with him. He picked me up in a luxurious car (Charles) and greeted me with a beautiful smile. I had to give him credits for how handsome he is IRL. ''Hello you''
I have to chuckle as I make my finish line to him. ''Well nice to see you too''
I smirk at him and look him in the eyes. Brown eyes. Simple. Nothing complex. Not like Charles's eyes. *(internal grunt)*
''What's wrong?''
He asks me genuinely with frown on his face. I shrug it off with a mild smile that it is nothing, just that I am cold. He raises his eyebrows but don't comment it. Instead he opens the doors for me and I sit down, ready for the adventure of what this date will bring.
The date itself was very nice, a simple dinner with a beautiful view on the city underneath us. Patrick is very casual and calm guy, well mannered and well spoken. There was nothing wrong with him, yet, I felt shallow. I did not feel alive. I thought to it it is because of my shitty mood from earlier. More of someone specific. I checked my phone to see if I am not needed but nothing came.
''I see there is something bothering you''
I lift my gaze and look at Patrick. I give him apologetic smile and take my phone away.
''Just work''
He gives me a knowing smile but he doesn't know it is not the job itself but the person behind it. And I hate myself for letting that happen. I don't want to feel like that, especially with a decent man in front of me. We go back to our conversation and as the time goes by, I finally managed to forget about Charles.
Patrick talked to me about his life, how he started and how it lead him to be where he is now. I genuinely liked to listen to him and it was certain that his guy know what he is doing in life. He has a goal and it appears no struggle take him from it. Unlike me.
When he asks me about my life, I keep it very simple. I don't want to tell him how I lost everything I could, everything I had for the last twenty years known to my life. And there are few things that I am passionate about. one of them are chocolate desserts and so I call for one, to keep the attention from me and my 'old' life.
On our way back to a hotel I stay silent and let my mind wander wherever it wants. Patrick from time to time asked me about something but it looked like he respects my quiet time I need for myself. It is hard to talk when my body is met with so much food to process!
''I know I enjoyed it, I hope you did as well YN''
I smile at him and I cannot lie that it wasn't enjoyable. I give him a light nod with a smile.
He helps me out of the car and then we stand facing each other.
''Can I see you again?''
I look up to his warm brown eyes and melt for a second. They remind me of all those people in my life that I love so much. They are so welcoming. It makes me so vulnerable that I say yes.
I slightly chuckle and keep smiling more to myself than to him. He takes a strand of hair from my face and put it behind my ears.
I see someone familiar on the left and my eyes wander there to see Joris with some other men. My body immediately goes tense and I search for him. But he is not there. Weird.
''You know them?''
I forgot about Patrick at all and my eyes widen at his sudden presence. ''Oh, uhm, yes, they are from work.''
I go back to look at Joris who is watching me closely as well.
''Oh, I see.''
I put my focus back to Patrick and give him a smile. ''Thank you for the date, I enjoyed it.''
He just nodded and kissed my hand with a promising look of a second date.
Right after I left the place in front of the hotel building, I lost track of time and focus on outer world that I just blankly stared on the wall in front of me. As the wall split in a half and opened for me, I blinked from the intrusion and get out from the elevator. I blindly walked to my apartment and opened the doors.
Darkness. Weird, I swear I left the lamp on. As I shrug it off, on my way to the bedroom I semi half get off the dress that were suffocating me the whole time after I ate the delicious chocolate dessert. That is why I get from having a sweet tooth. As I groan with the zipper in my lower back a light hits my senses. I blink many times in order to adjust to the surrounding and when the blurry lines make a form I see Charles staring at me expressionless. I stood there like a thief caught red handed and what gets me moving is his eyes lingering on my exposed chest and stomach.
I immediately cover myself and run to my right, even though I don't know what is there.
''Oh my god, i'm sor-'' ''-I'm sorry, I'm sorry!''
As I lay my back on the wall behind me I struggle to breath as my breathing became shallow. ''I-I thought this is my appartment. I'm so sorry''
All I hear is a chuckle and I frown at the reason for him to chuckle at all! I swear this guy just pisses me off.
''It's okay. What about I give you some space and wait in the corridor?''
I hum back in approval and get back in the dress so I don't walk half naked! With a grunt and victim mindset I get out the bathroom and straight to the door where is Charles waiting. There is a hint of amusement in his eyes and small smirk forming on his lips.
''It's not funny''
He chuckles even more and make few steps to me.
''I have to admit that I am glad I gave you my keys''
I stay watching him closely, with a smirk on his face, with my mouth parted a little at his sudden words and my eyebrows lift up. When I become aware there is silence between us I shut my mouth back again and roll my shoulders back.
''It's not gonna happen again''
I said it more with a threatening undertone and reached for the knob to leave this place. His place.
All I hear on my way out is ''What a shame''
#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you
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This is me fixing this request that I originally messed up on
Trevor Zegras x Hughes! Sister
Warnings?; Sneaking around, secret relationship,arguing, yelling, mad Jack, crying reader, kissing, getting caught, cursing
Hope you enjoyed anon!
Do not repost my works as your own
-
“Z! We can’t do this here, someone’s gonna catch us” I laughed as Trevor pulled me onto the boat to help ‘find his AirPods’
“Baby all I want is a kiss and everyones to busy to even realize I never even had them on the boat” he tried to reassure me.
“Fine but only one kiss, and I mean it Trev” I agreed and let him pull me in by my hips
“Mhm, one kiss” he replied before pressing his lips against mine.
It felt good to finally be able to kiss him, sneaking around wasn’t exactly ideal but we’d been doing it the past three summers so we were used to it. The only difference this summer was we were finally dating instead of just being a summer fling.
“Trevor” I whimpered out as he began to place kisses down my neck and his hands had slipped down to my denim covered ass.
“Z you said a kiss, not a make out” I groaned as I pulled him out of my neck and reattached our lips. He pulled back and was getting ready to reply with a smart-ass comment but got cut off by the sound of my twin brothers voice.
“What the fuck?” I jumped away from Trevor and looked up to see Jack standing on the dock.
“Jack! It’s not what it-“ I tried but he didn’t allow me to finish.
“It’s not what it looks like? Because I’m pretty sure I just seen my best friends head in your neck and his hands gripping your ass” he yelled
“Jack, buddy just let us explain” Trevor said trying to get Jack to listen
“Explain what? How your fucking my sister? How you two have been sneaking around mine and everyone’s backs for god knows how long?” He cursed before turning around and stomping back up to the house.
I quickly got out of the boat and raced behind him, I made it to the back door hot on his heals but he still shut the door in my face.
“Jack please just let me explain” I begged as I made it into the kitchen, where of course everyone that was staying at the house was located.
“I don’t want to hear whatever bullshit you have to say Y/n! Your my twin sister and he’s my best friend! He knew you were off limits and same goes for you! But here we are with you fucking him” he screamed at me.
“Jack please, we’re not just sleeping together we’re in a relationship so please just let me explain” I was crying now, he was my best friend and I had betrayed his trust and done the one thing they had all asked of me, never date a teammate.
“Oh now your dating? That’s just so much better Y/n, I wish I’d know when we were born that you were going to betray me like this” he spit at me before he stormed out of the kitchen and the front door slammed seconds later.
I just stood there frozen for a moment feeling a swirl of emotions at once, Guilt, Sadness, anger, frustration. I couldn’t help that I had fallen for Trevor, I always tried telling myself no but I couldn’t stay away and there was nothing I could do about it.
“One of you two wanna fill me in?” I heard Quinn asked while pointing between me and Trevor
-
It had been two days since Jack had found out about Trevor and I and he still wasn’t speaking to either one of us. We had filled Quinn and Luke in on the entire situation and exactly how everything between us had began.
Luke didn’t really mind, he said he wished we had let them know sooner but as long as we were happy that’s all that mattered. Quinn was a little upset that we snuck around for so long but was glad that we were happy.
I was currently laying on the couch with Trevor talking about things and what we were gonna do. everyone had gone out to golf so we took the alone time to have a private conversation.
“I understand if you want to break up, I don’t want my feelings for you get in the way of you and your brothers relationship” he spoke and I could hear the sadness in his voice.
“Hey no, we are not breaking up. I finally have you after years of being in love with you and not acting on it. We need to talk to Jack when he’s ready and we can go from there”
I could tell there was more he wanted to say but at the sound of the front door opening he shut his mouth placed a kiss on my head.
“Y/n” I heard Jack call causing me to quickly sit up.
“Yeah?”
“Quinn wants us to talk so let’s go because I’m sick of getting yelled at by him” he grumbled
“Uh okay” I got up and followed him to the back deck.
“Ja-“ I began but he cut me off
“I don’t want some stupid apology just tell me how this relationship started” he spit
“Okay, it started a few summers ago it was just a few kisses the first summer and we both admitted we had feelings for each other but he was going off to Boston in the fall and I was going to New York for school so we decided not to continue. It was the same for the following summer but there was a switch last summer, and saying goodbye was a lot harder that time round so when he was in New York in October he took me to dinner and asked me to be his girlfriend”
He didn’t reply just shook his head and stared out at the lake. My leg was bouncing in anxiety I couldn’t take the silence.
“Jack?” I questioned
He let out a scoff before he stood up and started pacing the deck, “So what your telling me is that my Twin sister and Best friend have been sleeping together behind my back for years and you’ve been dating for eight months?”
“Yeah..”
“I can’t believe this” he laughed and began pacing the deck
“I am really sorry Jack but I love him”
He didn’t reply to me for a while and I didn’t press him, this was a lot for him.
“It’s going to take a long time to get used to this Y/n, you two both betrayed my trust” He said looking at me with watery eyes.
“I know and I don’t expect you to be okay with everything so fast”
He finally came up to me and pulled me into a hug. I couldn’t take the emotions anymore and began sobbing into his chest.
“I’m so sorry Jacky” I cried as I clutched him harder
“As pissed as I am, you can’t help who you fall for Y/n” he said pulled away and wiping my tears.
-
#trevor zegras x reader#trevor zegras#trevor zegras imagine#jack hughes#quinn hughes#luke hughes#nhl#hockey imagine#nhl fanfiction#nhl imagine#uluvejay request week
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Hannibal was going to be the one to propose. And Will knew it would be something Hannibal would do, that was also the reason why he wouldn't take that away from him no matter if he sometimes imagined kneeling to the ground, holding Hannibal's hand and asking him to marry him.
He knew however that it was something Hannibal would put a lot of meaning and work into. And that wouldn't change the fact that Will would sometimes give him a scare or two. There would be times when he would make it seem as if he is about to propose only to see Hannibal panic for a few seconds.
One evening he literally asks Hannibal to go for a walk with him because he needs to ask him something very important. They end up on a little boat which Will has rented because "it's a very special night".
That bit was enough to make Hannibal die inside even if his facial expression didn't show it.
When Will pulls out a champagne bottle, Hannibal is already sweating and his breathing is shallow.
Will is enjoying it.
They admire the sunset and Will could swear he had never seen Hannibal so tense.
That is nothing compared to the moment when Will pulls out a little box. Hannibal swallows loudly as the fact that he will never be the one to propose to the love of his life will bever happen.
"Hannibal, I..."
"There is a time for everything, Will. And this is certainly not the one for this."
"Don't be silly. I have been waiting for long enough. And you too." He says as he brushes his fingers against the little box.
"Patience is often seen as a virtue, Will."
"Not anymore."
"I don't want to take this away from you, Will but...I did not expect it so sudden when you have always said that it's something you don't really believe in."
"What are you talking about?" Will asks as he opens the box "I ordered you new airpods after I lost your old ones, remember? I wanted to surprise you."
Will is putting on a very innocent face as he watches the relief wash over his beloved. It's one of the rare times when he watches Hannibal struggle to find his words.
"That is very thoughtful of you, darling." He finally says. "I do have to ask though, why the boat and the champagne?"
"Jesus Christ, can't I be romantic for once?" Will asks and blinks quickly, making a soft smile appear on Hannibal's lips.
"Of course, dear, of course."
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open starter ! looking for anyone who wants to hang out, or 'hang out ;)' he's pretty easy and open.
Richie loved the camp and everything it represented, it filled his heart with pride for the O'Connells as well as every other family that had been coming here. But another aspect that just made his grin grow wider was when the weather was perfect and he could walk around in just a pair of baby blue shorts (shorter than shorts should be) and walk along to the small boat dock, spread out a towel and sit there with a happy sense of peace amongst nature. Leaning back on the towel, he had two airpods in his ear listening to a simple indie girl sing about melancholy when he felt a shadow block out his sun and he squinted as he opened up to see the silhouette of a man standing over him.
Pausing his music, he just grinned - "Lovely day, hm? You can join me if you'd like."
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my daily i love luke and dolly message i’m begging for an ounce of boat day fluff
i hope this is kinda what you were hoping for! so sorry it took me so long, i’ve had a busy day! <3
my head rests on my arms, my back facing the beaming sun as i lay out on the seat of the boat. i have my airpods in but i can barely hear the music over the hollers of half a dozen twenty-something year old boys.
the boat is anchored somewhere in the middle of the lake, the six boys jumping off and splashing around in the water as i tan.
my eyes are closed but it’s hard to relax when Jack has country music blasting from the portable speaker, the melody mingling with their shouts. water is consistently splashed over the side of the boat, spraying my back and making me jolt every time.
i let out a sigh as i hear the slap of wet footsteps against the boat floor, immediately assuming it’s Jack turning up the music again.
“if you turn that up any louder, we’re all gonna go deaf.” i tell him. i wait for a snarky reply but it doesn’t come, instead i feel cold, wet hands land gently on my shoulders, causing me to flinch.
“sorry, baby.” Luke’s voice is barely audible over the music and my plugged ears, making me take my airpods out and set them in their case beside me.
my boyfriends hands massage my heated skin and i feel a dip in the seat, letting me know that he’s sat down now.
“hi, Lukey.” i mumble, a light smile spreading over my lips as he presses a kiss to my back, muttering a ‘hello, baby’ into my skin.
“you doing okay up here?” he asks, pulling away and laying down beside me as much as he can in order to look at my face. i open my eyes again, staring back into his blue ones.
“i’m fine, love.” i tell him, shifting to lay a hand on his wet cheek. my thumb rubs over the freckles that line his sun-kissed skin.
“you sure you don’t wanna come in? i feel bad that you’re up here all alone.” his hand rises to rest upon mine, pressing a light kiss to my palm.
“why? i used to lay here all the time when you guys got in the water, you never cared then.” i tease.
“because you were just my best friend back then.” he teases back. “now you’re my girl.”
“your girl?” i chuckle at his words.
“my girl.” he confirms. “my everything.”
he shifts forward to lean his forehead against mine and i sigh in contentment, thinking back to all the years before now where i had longed for these moments. when i was pining for the boy in front of me, wishing he would see me the way that i see him. and now that i have my wish, i hope it never goes away.
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