#a million little things that make up a life | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alchemistc · 2 days ago

Text

@liminalmemories21 - this isn't exactly what you asked for but:

Abby C. 8:51 PM: So how'd it go? With the talking?

Buck stares at the message. Stares at the milk frother sitting in his counter, and the candlesticks he'd really considered dropping off the side of his upper balcony, ten minutes ago. (He's a firefighter, he knows how that ends. But, like. Still)

Bad, he texts back. So bad. But he also won't give me my sweatshirt back and I know he has it. Any sage advice?

It's a little weird to be texting her. She'd been one of the first people he'd ever talked to consistently on the phone, and he'd grown to enjoy it, grown to appreciate that voice in his ear.

Abby texts back immediately: I'm not entirely sure I know what that means. He actually LIKED you.

Buck can feel the buzzing under his skin, the rush of adrenaline at remembering Tommy not only not denying he'd loved Buck, but admitting off-hand that he still did.

It means I'm getting my man back, Buck sends, and then stares at the slippers he can see poking out from the right side of the bed.

His phone rings.

"You know," Abby starts, before Buck can so much as greet her. "I spent a long time beating myself up for not seeing this as a sign, but that's not the point."

"What... is the point?"

Abby chuckles. She sounds good. Happy. Buck is far enough removed from it to feel glad for her, and jealous of her, and then he's rolling right back around to being fucking livid that Abby and Tommy had both run. Different reasons, same result. A first of Buck's that'd just walked away.

"He used to watch movies with my mom constantly. All the terrible schlock that I couldn't stand - Hallmark movies, and D-Lister rom coms, all those trite based on true events Lifetime shows."

Buck nods. Waits for her to continue.

She doesn't.

"I'm not picking up what you're dropping down."

"He and my mom would just critique them all the way through. Just tear them to shreds. What was unrealistic, what was just plain stupid. She - mom was never more lucid than when she and Tommy were bemoaning the lack of reality in those movies."

"Listen, I already know asking him to move in with me was a dumb idea. I'm the himbo, remember?"

Abby pauses. "...that's what he called you?"

"Apparently all your mutual friends did."

Abby sighs. "The point is, Buck. They liked watching them because they liked talking about what real relationships were actually like. What happened after a curtain close kiss, how much a couple was gonna fight over the financial sustainability of a Christmas themed donut shop, what the fiance that got left behind in the big city was gonna do now that they were finally free of the person who'd spent the holiday season losing their entire brains. Tommy's a realist. He wants to be stopped before he gets on the plane, but he wants to be stopped because you already have a ten step plan to make things work. And he's terrified of giving too much of himself away to someone who thinks he shits rainbows and puppies and hasn't reckoned with the fact that he's just as screwed up as the rest of us."

"You swear more than I remember."

Abby laughs. " But you see my point?"

Buck doesn't want to. But he does. "Well, I definitely don't think he's perfect anymore."

"And you still love him." She says it like she knows. She says it like she'd once expected to spend a life with Tommy Kinard.

"And I still love him," Buck acknowledges, and they both drift into silence. It's comfortable. Easy. He sort of misses being able to talk to her about shit like this.

"Call me if you need anything, Buck."

Buck hangs up the phone with a million new, vaguely more hopeful thoughts swirling around in his brain.

Twenty minutes later he texts her one more time: This is the only sex thing you're getting from me - that thing he does with your nipples? What the fuck?

Abby C. 9:22 PM: I taught him that. You're welcome.

Tommy ignores the knock at his door. He's in day three pajamas and the only person who might make the effort to check in on him is his exes best friend. Which.

The knocking continues.

It's getting louder.

There's a Kings game on in the background and he's been elbow deep in the Jeep manual he'd finally cracked open in some sort of weird, fucked up pattern of mourning.

Tommy's never gonna buy a fucking Jeep. He hates them. You own one for more than five years and more than half the parts are replacement parts.

He's been staring at a diagram of the timing belt for half an hour, at least. The last thing he remembers about the game is Kuemper letting in three goals on five shots and somehow the Kings are up two, now, and there's still 25 minutes of game time left.

Tommy reaches for the remote. Turns the volume up.

The knocking returns less than a minute later.

---

There's a box of odds and ends tucked under the table in his entryway. He avoids looking at it. He knows there are a few things missing from it and he really doesn't want to examine what he'll have to do to avoid giving it to Eddie tonight. He cut the cords, he shouldn't be lingering watching the frayed edges sway in the wind, clutching his line like there's anything braced on the other side of it.

Evan's oldest, softest LAFD hoodie, the one that's technically too small for both of them but has stretched shockingly evenly and is definitely not sitting unwashed at the bottom of Tommy's laundry basket. The program from a recital of Denny's they'd stopped by to support him for, on their way out of town for a long weekend. Evan's stupid keto bread and the milk frother he'd left behind three months ago and never bothered to grab because he had more than one.

Whoever is at his door is still fucking knocking, and suddenly Tommy doesn't feel like being polite. He'll shove the box in Eddie's arms and tell him to fuck off and close the last few remaining open doors he has to this.

Only when he swings the door wide it's not Eddie on the other side, and the box nearly takes out whatever Evan - Buck, Jesus Christ - has in his own arms.

Not a Tommy box - too small for all the shit that he'd left behind. He misses the house slippers that had had a permanent spot tucked under the left side of the bed.

Tommy flinches, reels away, tries to shove the box away before Buck can see its contents.

"What are you doing here?" Even tone. No quiver in his voice. He's been called rude and dismissive for less.

Buck scowls. Hefts the rectangular dish in his hands and shoves past Tommy before Tommy can blink.

It's silly to say he chases after him, down the hallway towards the kitchen, but he's not exactly following along behind at a casual leisurely pace.

The glass pan slams down on his kitchen counter and Buck spends a minute staring at the calendar he was only getting two months out of because he couldn't look at the one with all Buck's notes penned in anymore.

"Wow," Buck says, and shifts his weight awkwardly.

"What are you -?"

"Jee and I made you birthday cupcakes," Buck says. His voice is hard. Angry. Hurt. "Happy birthday, asshole."

---

He cracks the lid and there are only three cupcakes inside. Tommy forgets himself. Raises a brow, amusement rolling over him pleasantly, prepared to tease him, but then he catches the set of Buck's legs and the curl of his mouth and the tight way his arm tucks itself back in against his belly, a protective gesture that reminds Tommy very effectively what this is.

"Why?" Tommy wonders aloud, and Evan's scowl deepens.

Buck's scowl.

God.

"We've been planning it for weeks." Something flashes across his eyes before he schools his features. "Jee made me promise to bring you some."

"She must not be a skilled baker," Tommy jokes. "If these are the only ones that made it."

Evan's expression twists. "I ate most of them."

The frosting looks fresh. No creases in the paper cup holding them together.

"I had to make a new batch of frosting because I used some of it for -." He cuts himself off. Looks like he'd like to throw it in Tommy's face but can't quite force himself to hurt Tommy.

It hurts as much as he'd expected, anyway.

The world is a small place. It's not the first time he's had to speak to an ex when he didn't want to. It's never pleasant.

This is worse. The cut and run is supposed to give him time.

Evan Buckley has been an ache behind his ribcage for months, now, long before he'd made that final decision. He'd known it was too little too late. Buck's gonna be the shadow other men see behind his eyes for years.

Buck's apparently found and slept with someone within the week and a half span from Tommy walking out to his sad shitty mopey birthday.

That he'd forgotten about.

Tommy leans in. Picks up a cupcake. Licks a stripe through the frosting and makes a face when he realizes it's buttercream.

"The ones you were supposed to get had the whipped cream one you like," Buck says, accusingly.

That somehow stings just a little bit extra.

Tommy pulls back the paper, takes a bite. There's raspberry filling inside, and Tommy can feel tears prickling at the edges of his eyes, because when he'd told Evan about how his grandma baked he'd been thinking of Evan being a grandparent, the kind of shit he'd forbidden himself from imagining with anyone he was dating years ago.

"Thank you," he manages, and Buck frowns.

"He thought the whipped cream was too sweet." And Tommy probably deserves this but he's not particularly in the mood.

"Cut it out, Buck."

Buck rolls his jaw. "I just figured you'd wanna know how it's going. Maybe I could tally up the hookups for you, count them all up by gender and stamina and opinions on how I should feel and act and fall for someone. Find out if I'm actually gay enough to be a man's last."

---

The rest of the cupcake kind of collapses and oozes as Tommy smacks it down on the counter. He takes thirty seconds to pull the other two cupcakes out before he's grabbing the too-large fake Pyrex and turning heel. The keto bread goes in the pan. Then the milk frother.

Tommy yanks the recital program off the fridge and tosses it in the trash.

Buck almost looks triumphant.

"The box under the side table has the rest. You can see yourself out."

He actually does exactly as he's told, and Tommy listens to his footsteps drift off, shoulders hunched in and the breath tight in his throat. He'd been cruel, it was only fair Buck got a few final kicks in.

Tommy sucks in a breath and blinks away the moisture at the edges of his vision.

The footsteps take a heel turn at the side table and turn right back around.

"This isn't everything."

Tommy half expects some panned comment about how Tommy's got his heart - the kind of silly shit he'd say to a dead outlaw.

"My sweatshirt," Buck says, and Tommy freezes.

He could lie. He could pretend he had no idea where it was. Claim he didn't remember it even being here, because that particular piece of clothing did have a tendency to travel.

He doesn't fucking want to hand that one over.

Buck smirks, like he's caught the crack, and is looking for ways to exploit it.

"I own my own house!" Tommy says, and it's a terrible launching point but Buck latches on.

"You just left, Tommy! I know I jumped the gun, Tommy, but you didn't even - you just left! I'm sorry, okay. I'm sorry I didn't know I was into men until you. I'm sorry you had to be my first, I'm sure that must have been such a burden for you."

"That's not fair."

"You didn't even give me a chance. That was - I'm so angry with you, Tommy. I'm so fucking mad."

"I know."

"But that's what you planned for, right? That's - you ripped the bandaid, Tommy, except there's a whole fucking untreated stab wound right underneath and it's still bleeding, Tommy."

"Did you even make this round of cupcakes with your niece?" It's better to keep his family's names out of his mouth. Just keep those ties cut.

Buck looks livid. "No, you idiot, I whipped up a tiny batch of this recipe just for the excuse to see you and - and tell you what a stupid, awful coward you are."

"That's not f-." He isn't sure whether Buck is being facetious about the small batch thing or not. He doesn't have any time to think about it.

"My sister and Chim are having another baby. Bobby and Athena are probably gonna host Christmas this year. Eddie shaved off the mustache and he's, like, dancing now, I guess. Hen and Karen are good for the first time in -." He shakes his head. Stares at Tommy. Tommy can't quite hide from that gaze. "We were good, Tommy. We were - you loved me."

He'd never said the words. Neither had Evan, but they'd both known. Both felt it. Tommy let it go too far, did it scared for longer than he usually would.

"It's not like that just went away when I walked out, Evan," Tommy hisses, and then regrets it immediately.

Evan has spent most of this visit pushing, pressing, digging fingers into the wound to make it hurt.

Evan goes silent now, reeling back a little. He seems shocked that Tommy had admitted it.

"I want you to go," Tommy says. "I need you to go, Buck."

It was the right dagger the first time, but apparently it's only effective once.

"I love you too, you know." His voice is soft. Tommy can't meet his eye. "And I hate you. I hate you even though I know that's what you wanted but I love you too much to not hate you out of spite."

Tommy knows if he caves it's done. He's signing himself over to whatever fucked thing will end them a week, a month, five years, two decades from now.

"Go home, Buck. Hate me there."

---

He goes in for the kill.

"I called Abby, two nights ago."

Right for the jugular. No survivors.

"She laughed for like twenty minutes, and then she tried to get me to chat about our sex life for comparison, and then she was shocked silent for a full minute when I wouldn't." Because Evan had always been a little too open about those details. "She also told me she forgave you but she doesn't think you ever forgave yourself."

Tommy agrees. For all that they'd been terrible for each other, they'd known how the hell to take care of one another like no one's business.

"I want you to go," Tommy says, steady, quiet, nearly a snark for how deep his voice goes to hide the tremor in it.

Buck cocks a hip against the doorframe. "I want my sweatshirt."

The breath that escapes him is shaky, but her think he hides most of it behind the hand over his face, the finger pinched at the bridge of his nose.

"I can't do this."

"Exactly how many men and women do I have to fuck before you believe the future I'm looking at is with you?"

"All of them! None! It was a stupid thing to say and it's not what I meant and I can't do this."

Buck spins on his heel. Grabs the box he'd set aside and hefts it up into his arms. "I'm coming back for my sweatshirt," he says. "You let me know whether you want to talk about the data points of the sexuality spreadsheet or about us."

"There is no us, Buck." His voice sounds defeated even to himself.

"If that was true you'd just give me the stupid sweater and be done."

Tommy sits in silence. He does not get up to retrieve the hoodie. Buck is still angry, but his smile is wide and bashful.

Tommy listens to his footsteps trail down the hall, towards the door, out of it. He hears the Jeep's ignition catch, the wheels roll off the drive.

He realizes he'd left the goddamn Jeep manual open on the timing belt page, right there on his side table where he'd pointed out the things he wanted Evan to take to clear him from his life.

---

There is someone knocking at his door.

Tommy doesn't quite ignore it.

He hid the sweatshirt in one of his toolbox drawers when Evan texted him this morning to let him know he'd be over with a six pack and a pot of chili.

There's a zero percent chance Evan's getting that sweatshirt back, tonight.

#bucktommy fic #abby&buck

736 notes · View notes

gh0stsp1d3r · 2 days ago

Text

Maybanks sister

part 4, chapter 1- let’s do this shit!

summary: after el dorado, your lives are finally getting back to normal. However, someone’s still missing from your life. After a long week, a run in with that someone is the last thing you needed.

a/n: ahhh! Finally some rafe and reader moments lol. they’re a bit in a pining but not talking stage right now. They’re gonna get to talk soon, don’t worry.

SERIES MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

“-98.5%… gold.”

“And that translates to?”

“This is money. A whole lot of money.”

With a smile on his face and everyone else cheering, John B leaned over the table to shake the man’s hand.

You guys went straight to the gas station, with the nearest atm machine being inside.

“Moment of truth.” John B murmured, all of you crowding around the atm.

“Pin is 0-0-0-0… enter.” John B said, entering his pin into the machine.

“You’re kidding.” Sarah had to suppress a laugh.

“Tell me that’s a temporary pin.” You snorted, John B turning to look at you now.

“I thought nobody could guess-“

“You need to change that immediately, dude.” You told him with a loud laugh.

“I’m sorry-“ he turned his head back to the machine when it started to make noise, signaling it was ready.

“Here it comes.”

As soon as the paper came out, JJ reached for it before him and John B fought over it. “That’s me, that’s me,” he said, “let me read it!”

“It’s not even the money, it’s just the receipt!”

You rolled your eyes at the boys, John B winning in the end, opening and pulling it open.

“Okay, okay,” John B said, reading it. “Our joint account balance…”

“Mhm..”

He took a pause, before Cleo told him to get on with it, everyone impatient.

“Our joint account balance is… one point one million… seventy two thousand, five hundred and forty nine dollars.”

“You said mil?”

“Million?” You and pope asked at the same time.

“Um…” John B said, everyone processing just how much money that was.

“That’ll do it!”

He nodded in agreement, everyone cheering and celebrating, being unable to even comprehend just how much that was.

“Holy shit…” you spoke, you laughing to yourself, Sarah laughing with you.

“That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever seen on a piece of paper.” Pope said, you smiling and talking to Cleo.

JJ went over to the cooler, taking a beer out and downing it. Kiara glanced over at him, noticing his distance from everyone.

She walked over to him, “You can smile, you know.” She told him, leaning against the cooler.

He sighed, staring at her.

“Look, this doesn’t mean we’re kooks. Just means we have a little money now.”

“Okay, okay, wait, wait, wait, wait… hear me out. Really truck with yellow LEDS to replace the Twinkie for now.”

“That is by far one of the dumbest ideas I’ve heard from you.” You told your brother, rolling your eyes at him.

“I’m not getting rid of the Twinkie.” John B shook his head.

“But with solar panels… maybe. If it’s in the budget.” Kiara suggested, tilting her head to the side.

“And a bigger boat.”

“Guys, hold on. Hold on. It’s… it’s not like we can all go off and buy houses or anything. I mean split between all of us, that’s about 167,507 dollars. Minus what we owe barracuda Mike.”

“Let him try and come take this. I’ll mess him up.”

“I’ll mess him up for my damn leg.” You agreed.

“I’m just gonna say it. I don’t wanna piss off the drug dealer.”

“Listen, if we divide this up, we’re all gonna blow it.” Pope said, everyone turning their heads to Jj the moment he said that.

“Wow, okay. Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“It’s kind of obvious.” You retorted.

“-But maybe if we pool our money together, we can create something with actual economies of scale.”

“Like what?” Kiara asked him.

“You remember the island.”

“Duh.”

“Of course.” Kiara shrugged.

“I mean, it was our own island, and we built everything from basically nothing, right?”

“It was perfect.” Kiara said.

“The best life.�� Cleo nodded.

“That whole island just to ourselves. All of us together.”

“It was nice..” you nodded in agreement with them all.

“I think we can have that again. Right here. I mean, Y/n’s and JJ’s property is going up for auction, right? So let’s buy it back. I mean, look around. A lot of land. Deep water access…” he motioned to the water behind him. “unless any of you are planning on going back to school, we’re gonna need a place to work, a place to stay and live. I think we can have both of those things here.”

“Well, it’s a nice idea, but I mean, we’d have to get the land first.” You told pope, he nodded.

“Then we could build like, a.. surf shop. And then maybe we can make our own dock.”

“This place does need a dock.” You nodded, smiling at the image.

“Ooh, what about like a bait and tackle shop?” John B suggested.

“Yeah,”

“Exactly. And… and who knows these waters better than us?”

“Nobody.” You replied.

“JJ, y/n, you guys can get a new boat and run a fishing charter. We can all live and sleep in the house-“

“Just a small warning, if this works, I am not picking up after you little shits.” You told them all, specifically staring right at Jj.

“Hey! Why are you looking at me? I’m not the one who-“

You rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around him and ruffling his hair like you would do when you were kids.

“Because we all know how messy you are.”

“I’m not messy-“

“You most definitely are, yeah.” Sarah retorted, him huffing and shoving you off of him while the rest of you laughed.

Before the auction, you went up to Jj, pulling him to the side.

“What?” He asked you, glancing at his friends in front of you all.

“Hey, I know how you’re feeling about the house and shit, but please, don’t do some stupid shit?”

“Don’t worry, sis. We’ll get the house back easy.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about, jay.”

“I’m not gonna… do some stupid shit, alright? Trust me. I got this.” He held his hand up.

You sighed, he did not have this.

“Here’s the plan. We go up in one-dollar increments, all right? It’s gonna take a while, but we’re gonna need to save every cent we have for construction.”

“Popes on point, JJ. Got it?”

JJ let a hum, although he hesitated.

“Don’t change the plan.” Pope stared at the pair of you and your brother, you looking offended.

“Hey, don’t look at me, look at this idiot.” You poked your finger into JJs head, him rolling his eyes at you.

Everyone turned to the auctioneer, him pointing to the picture of your dad’s property.

Honestly, you wouldn’t know what you would do with yourself if you didn’t get the house. You grew up in that house, and while you may have a lot of bad memories in those walls, you loved it the same. It was like you could still hear the laughter of you and JJ as kids echoing off the walls.

It was a part of you at this point.

And you knew Jj felt the same way, you could tell it in his eyes.

“-The foreclosure sale of 14 Roger’s point road. Now, this is the old Maybank place.”

“You know, uh, the cuts gonna be figure 8 in a few years. You walk away now, you won’t have to scurry off with your tail between your legs… and I’ll, uh, give you a little taste on the back end.” he spoke to you lowly, you staring at the man in disbelief.

“You’re gonna be dead before that happens.” You told the man, annoyed at what he had just said.

He stared at you with raised eyebrows through his glasses.

“Hey, Dale, was it?” JJ pushed you to the side, standing in front of the man now.

“That’s correct.”

“It’s not happening, hoss.” He cracked his knuckles. “Let’s play ball.”

You stared at Pope, already knowing what would go down.

“150 bid, bidder with 200, I’ve got 200…”

…

“I’ve got 775,000 bid,”

“This is way over our price range.” Pope told John B.

“Will you make him stop, please?” Sarah asked him:

“Get him out of here.”

John B went over to JJ, who you’ve already attempted to stop multiple times.

“Hey, please, it’s too much.”

“Just let me handle this. I’ve got it.. dude, I’ve got it!” He fought John b off of him, “775,010, right here, sir.” Jj shouted.

“775,010 to the gentleman in red.”

“Oh my god!” Pope groaned.

You sighed, half in relief and half in annoyance. Your brother was dumb to be paying that much, but you knew, deep down, you knew why he did. No one else would understand, but you would.

“That’s too rich for my blood, Rog.” Zeasy spoke, John B and Jj staring at each other.

“775,010 bidder, looking for 8…”

The auctioneer continued on, “going once, going twice, sold right here to the gentleman in red. Congratulations.”

Everyone in the group groaned, Jj turning back to Zeasy, holding his hand out.

“The most expensive property in the cut, and it’s not worth it.” He chuckled.

“Well, it is to us, sir. Now, if you can scurry off to your side of the island, and stay there, that’d be appreciated.” He waved his hand, wrapping his arms around John B.

“I get shit done. We got it. That’s all that matters. Whoo! All right.”

“What an idiot.” You murmured to yourself.

“33% above market value. Wildly overpaid. Thats like all the money.” Pope told John b, before walking past him.

You stared at JJ, him looking back at you.

“What?” He asked, you shaking your head at him.

“Well, would you like to do the honors or should I?” You asked your brother, both of you standing in front of the caution taped door.

He shrugged, his hands going to the ends and beginning to rip it off.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I christen thee Poguelandia 2.0.” He spoke, holding the ripped up caution tape in both hands before throwing it.

You stared at him, ripping off the remaining tape.

“Let’s turn this piece of shit into our home.” You told him with a small smile.

“Let’s do it.”

He smiled back, both of you doing your usual handshake, before he opened the door and saluted to the rest of the group.

“We’re home, y’all.”

Construction on the house was the hard part of it all, everything you guys had bought and used had been as cheap as possible, even using old wood from your dad’s old shed.

And finally, after months of construction, you all felt like you had finally perfected it. JJ had his own charter, everything had been feeling normal. Better than normal.

JJ put the sign down at the dock, a proud smile on his face as he stared at everything you all had accomplished.

“Think we’re about done.” You told John B, both of you nodding and smiling, doing a handshake of your own.

“Hey, guys!” JJ called from down the dock, his hat in his hands. “I think we did it.”

“Hell yeah we did!” You shouted back.

“We’re in business baby! Wow!” He shouted, you and John B laughing at his antics. “Oh my gosh, this feels good!” He pumped his fist in the air, and this was the happiest you think you’ve ever seen him.

Everyone watched with a smile on their faces, watching him cheer on and celebrate.

“That boys mad.” Cleo laughed, you nodding in agreement.

He got on the boat, “Captain Maybank at your service! Now that has a ring to it! Nothing can stop a pogue. Nothing!”

All of you laughed, watching him jump off and onto the dock.

“That’s what I’m talking ‘bout!”

“Yeah!” John B shouted.

“Is he okay?” Sarah laughed, Kiara watching him with a smile on her face.

“Yeah. Yeah. He just never really had a home. He’s happy.”

You listened to the girls conversation, finding yourself smiling at it.

He began to dance, talking wildly to himself.

“Slow down, you’re killing ‘em!”

“Twinkle toes, all right!”

Kiara laughed, walking down to the dock, “having fun?” She asked him.

“A little bit.”

“Yeah?”

“What?” He asked, her staring at him with a wide smile on her face.

“I love you.”

He got closer to her, both of their lips crashing into each others.

You whistled at them, John B howling while Sarah laughed.

“We did it.” JJ pressed his forehead against hers, her arms wrapped around his body.

“We did. Somehow.”

“But we did it. We did it!”

That day was one that you swore you’d never forget, seeing him happy like that, that was all you wanted in your life.

Yet, intertwined with the moments of joy, there was a bittersweet ache in your heart. Thoughts of him, of Rafe, drifted through your mind.

It’s been almost two years, and you were still in love with him.

You couldn't shake the memories, the way his laughter would echo in your ears, the warmth of his presence that seemed to haunt your every thought.

A sense of longing wrapped around you, refusing to let go, painting your happiness with unfulfilled desire.

It was as if you could still imagine him looking at you, a small but soft smile on his face.

You knew he wouldn’t want to talk to you, he probably wouldn’t want to even see you.

He probably hated you now, you thought. After you told him about his dad, maybe he didn’t want to see you at all.

Unfortunately, a large thunderstorm the night before had knocked out the power, causing the live bait to pass away, everything ruined.

“What’s the damage, pope?” JJ asked him, pope sighing.

“Fuse box is busted. Without the live bait, the fishermen won’t come, and there goes half of our business right there. We have enough profit to cover it, but barely, just barely. All right?”

Pope walked over to a jar, pulling it down from the cabinet it was in. “This is it.” He pulled out a smaller jar of gold. “The last of our AU.”

“Uh, what?”

“What?”

“English, please.” You snickered.

“Gold. It’s the periodic symbol for gold.” He told you all, as if it was obvious.

“Why not just say gold?” You asked him

“Because it doesn’t matter, all right? This is all of our savings, and it’s a no-go. This is for property taxes. So,” he set the jar of gold on the table, “we’re gonna have to tighten up…”

“Which means no more 600 dollars in gas chasing tarpon up the gulf.”

“Pope, that’s our job-“ JJ started.

“Yeah!” you agreed.

“We were chasing a bait board-“

“No more 200 dollars in heirloom tomato seeds.” Pope continued, pointing at Kiara.

Everyone began to talk over each other, arguing over it.

“What about my imported peppers?”

“Peppers gotta go too, baby.”

“We need to run the charters!

“It’s not the tomato’s fault!”

“No, hey, guys! If the business starts failing, the sharks start circling. All right?” Everyone stopped arguing.

“And we don’t even know if your dad is coming back.”

“He’s got balls if he shows his damn face around here.” You glared at Pope.

“And it’s not even his anymore.” JJ chimed in, hitting his hand against the table he was leaning on.

“It doesn’t matter. What’s he gonna think when he sees all this?”

“He’s not gonna see it.” You spat, Pope sighed, ignoring your comment before continuing.

“Listen, if we want to save this place, we skinny up until the business gets afloat again. Okay?” Pope said, leaving the shack.

JJ glanced at the gold that Pope had left on the table, an idea popping up in his mind.

The enduro. A dumbass bike race where people place their bets on, mostly kook kids who have nothing better to do with it. It was also where your brother went to try his luck each year.

“What a fantastic day we got for racing today. You guys ready to burn some gas?”

People cheered, raising their cups and watching as everyone started practicing, their bikes throwing sand on the viewers.

“The race is kicking off soon, so make sure you get your bets in. And then wave your flag, you know what I’m saying?”

JJ stood there, gas being pumped into his bike. He glanced over to the bike next to him, where Topper sat with a smug face, nodding at JJ. Jj shook his head, turning away from the boy.

John B walked over to JJ, patting him on the shoulder. “Let’s go baby! How we feeling today, champ?”

“Like I got this whole shot.”

“Yeah? Yeah?”

“I’m gonna win it this year. I know I am.”

“Yeah, you are.”

JJ turned to look at Cleo, “Cleo, how we doing, girl?”

“Everything’s all good, man.”

“Great.”

“The girl, out.”

“All right.” He raised his hand up, both of their hands meeting as they did a handshake.

“Hey! Bring it home, little boy.” She smiled at him.

“You know I will.”

John B smiled at him, grabbing his face. “You got this. All right?”

“I know.”

“Yeah, good luck.” John B said, beginning to walk away before JJ called his name.

“Hey, hold on one sec. Hold on.”

John B turned around, Jj walking up to him again.

“Where’d you park your bike?”

“Right there. Why?” He pointed, jj staring at him, hesitating.

“Gotta tell you something before we start.”

“Oh boy, JJ, what’s going on?”

“No, it’s really not that bad.” JJ replied, although John B did not believe him.

“Go on, then. Tell me, what’s up?”

“Like, literally you’re gonna be thanking me after. Okay? So… you know, I… I bet on me. To win.”

John B turned his head, pursing his lips together.

“I know, I know, funds are tight right now, but I feel good this year. So, I put in a bet on myself. Dude, the odds are like, seven to one!” He smiled, “with me on this thing, that’s like three to one.”

“Hold on, okay.”

“It’s free money.”

“Where did you get some extra money?”

“That’s what I’ve got to tell you. Um…” jj cleared his throat, “so, I went into the kitty and bet the last nug…. Now, before you say anything, I just gotta tell you-“

John B scoffed, backing away from JJ.

“Dude, listen, I got this, man.”

John B held his finger out, “JJ, JJ, just stop.” He walked over to JJ again, looking at him in disbelief. “Jj, are you serious?”

“Yes I’m serious.”

“That was our last 20 grand. That was supposed to go to property taxes for poguelandia.”

“Bro, I know! Okay? I know. I know you’re about to hit me now. I can sense it.”

“I’m thinking about it.”

“Save it. Gotta commit at this point. I got it. You know I do. But it wouldn’t hurt to have a little backup on this one. You know what I’m saying?”

“You want me to ride?”

“Just cover me. All right? Just like old times in the backyard. You and me? We school these fools, and we save the farm. You know we can do this. Easy.”

Your heart dropped when your eyes spotted the familiar bike, along with those damn blue eyes. His eyes met yours for a moment, and it felt as if time stopped, as if everyone else was gone in that moment.

“Oh my fucking god.” You mumbled to yourself, Pope raising an eyebrow at you, following your gaze.

Rafe stood there, a faint frown creasing his brow when he caught sight of you. A tight knot formed in his throat. He longed to close the distance between you two, to feel the warmth of your embrace or press his lips against yours again—anything to bridge th silence that had stretched between them.

It had been a year and a half since everything, yet his heart remained tethered to you. The weight of his lingering affection tormented him, and hehted how helpless he was.

He could see the tears begin to well up in your eyes, even from afar.

Topper was the one to snap him out of his daze, and Pope was the one to snap him out of yours.

Topper hit his shoulder, Rafe finally taking a breath when his eyes left yours.

“Dude, I told you, forget about her.”

“What? I wasn’t looking at her, dude.” Rafe lied, looking over at you, only to find you looking away again.

“Was he not here last year?” Pope asked you, you finally taking your eyes off of him.

“Yeah, he- he was, but I mean-it doesn’t matter, I gotta go. I can’t be here for this shit.” You held your hands up, your heart beat picking up and your palms beginning to get clammy.

“Just ignore him.“ Pope shrugged, you sighing, holding the back of your hands to your eyes, pressing on them.

You then realized, that he used to do the same thing. You put your hands down, glancing at Pope before speaking and turning around

“I’ll- I’ll be back.” You murmured, stumbling away from the crowd, leaning against a shed, taking deep breaths while trying to think about anything else.

“Shit, I need a drink.” You told yourself, taking one last deep breath before standing up and walking over to the nearest cooler, stealing a drink and downing the entire can in one go, before grabbing another.

You sighed when you walked up to Pope and Cleo, your eyes avoiding Rafe and instead looking at your brother and John B.

“Let’s do this shit, Jay!”

Taglist

@cassie0sstuff @rafesgiirl @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx @callsignwidow @saintnourah @calmoistorm @ethanthequeefqueen @theoraekenslover @just-levyy @hallecarey1

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron series #maybanks sister #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x sister reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x y/n #obx #outer banks series #rafe fic #rafe fanfiction #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x female reader

170 notes · View notes

seat-safety-switch · 3 days ago

Text

With the ever-present rush towards convenience, so many sit-in restaurants are becoming take-out-only instead. Let's be honest: none of us really want to go outside and talk to people in order to get food. Just flip that app and bingbong® yourself a drunk order of fried treats for only $25 in fees.

Pizza Hut was one of the first to abandon the pull of large square footage, throwing millions of nostalgic red plastic cups into industrial grinders in a mad rush to stop bleeding so much goddamn money all the time. Today, those cups are worth $250 on eBay, so they look pretty stupid now, don't they?

The problem with all this is, in the time of our foreparents, it was real hard to fake the existence of a restaurant. If you went to a Pizza Hut, it was a real-ass physical building. It probably had not been copy-pasted together by a bunch of Taiwanese scam artists using Google Image Search fifteen seconds before you appeared. That was more of a Taco Bell thing. Nowadays, you can't be sure. Computers treat bullshit the same as any other kind of shit, so sometimes you'll be ordering from a completely imaginary restaurant. Feels weird, doesn't it?

As with many other cases in my adult life where I figured out everyone was just faking it, I decided to try and make some quick money. Papa needed a new engine, you see, and Slant Sixes don't exactly grow on trees anymore. With just a couple wonky Excel spreadsheets and a glob of code the size of Upper Tonawanda, I was in business with Switch's Fun-Time Pizza, an entirely non-fictitious restaurant whose address happened to be at the same place as a Pizza Hut.

Folks would pay me money, and then I'd quickly pay Pizza Hut to have a pizza ready by the time the delivery guy rolled up. Nobody seemed to care that the box said the wrong thing, and soon I was collecting fat stacks of money for doing nothing at all, just like the platforms themselves. This went on for a few weeks, fattening my bank account for slaughter. Until the first complaints came in, that is.

Yes, friends: it turned out that the local Pizza Hut had hired someone who wasn't very good at washing their hands. Soon, I was handing out big-time refunds on behalf of a massive international corporation, except I was doing so out of my own ill-gotten profits. My rickety, strung-together bullshit engine made entirely out of spreadsheets and chewing gum simply could not comprehend the idea of a refund, much less one for a weak human phenomenon such as food poisoning. Soon, all the money was gone.

Have I learned something from this whole experience? Yes. The most important thing in food service is to wash your hands thoroughly before (and after!) handling the customer's meat. The second most important thing is to charge at least a hundred percent premium over your supplier, to leave room for little hiccups such as this.

That's way easier to do if you position yourself as an upscale luxury restaurant, such as Lord Switchington of Canterbury's Refined Palate Pizza Parlour For Bourgeois Assholes Only, which will be launching this weekend in the very expensive neighbourhood next to mine. Hopefully their Pizza Hut is a little bit better at keeping the bathroom soap dispenser stocked.

226 notes · View notes

forthegothicheroine · 3 days ago

Text

I've made a post about great lesser-known noirs, but it occurs to me that some of you might not be familiar with the classics, and might want to know where to start. This is a ridiculously short list- I have a million more to talk about- but here are some of the big stars of the genre.

The Maltese Falcon: Sam Spade, a clever but callous private detective, gets wrapped up in intrigue relating to an artifact that is functionally cursed. If he's an unscrupulous character, just wait until you meet everyone else. The whole damn cast is electrifying, lending charm and cruelty in equal measure.

The Big Sleep: Philip Marlowe, a kinder and more poetic detective for Humphrey Bogart to play than Spade, is called upon to deal with a wealthy, dysfunctional family, and it keeps on getting weirder from there. Is the sharp-tongued Vivian Sternwood the femme fatale she seems, or is she just another person trying to find the right thing to do in desperate circumstances? And will she and Marlowe keep their hands off each other until the plot has had its last twist?

Double Indemnity: Rich housewife Phyllis Dietrichson and sleazy insurance agent Walter Neff are, by their own admission, rotten people. It's only natural that they should plot a murder together, and that they should turn on each other the very second things go wrong. Every single domestic murder movie since 1944 has ripped this off.

Kiss Me Deadly: This is nominally an adaptation of a Mike Hammer story. Screenwriter Bezzerides hated Mike Hammer. As depicted here, he is one of the worst people in the world. Depending on the cut of the film you see, he may inadvertently cause the nuclear apocalypse. (For once, the theatrical cut is darker.)

Sweet Smell of Success: Cruel, all-powerful columnist JJ Hunsecker wants his sister's boyfriend out of the way (for reasons that are, um, ambiguous.) To accomplish this, he enlists the biggest weasel in New York, Sidney Falco, and the two completely deserve each other as they spend the rest of the movie trading elaborate insults. Popular on tumblr for its dialogue and chemistry between the leads.

Sunset Boulevard: Broke screenwriter Joe Gillis thinks he can con a has-been into hiring him as a script doctor, and that's the last free decision he ever gets to make. From then on, his life is in the hands of Norma Desmond, silent film starlet turned crazed recluse, terrifying yet intensely pitiable. This is as much gothic horror as noir.

Ace in the Hole: The story of a man trapped in a cave is turning out to be a big hit in the newspaper, and if the publicity will make a reporter's career, then what's the harm in delaying rescue just for a little while? This is as vicious as noir gets, but damn it, you've just got to see what happens next. (Watch Jacob Geller's video Fear of the Depths after this.)

Sorry Wrong Number: Of all the films on this list, this is the one that really scared me. In the days of switchboards, a rich hypocondriac woman is connected to the wrong phone line and overhears a murder being planned. It doesn't take her long to figure out she's the intended victim, and each call she makes or recieves makes the situation darker. But how can she escape her fate if she can't- or won't leave her bed?

The Asphalt Jungle: The heist movie. Maybe the only heist movie ever made. Every line is quotable. Every member of the team is an unforgettable personality. When things go wrong, they go horribly wrong. One minute you're laughing, and the next minute you think you'll never laugh again.

Gun Crazy: Laurie and Bart, two practiced sharpshooters, are perhaps the most perfect match in all of noir- and that's a bad thing. When one half of the duo gets a criminal idea in their head, the other can't say no. When the opportunity to ditch her man like a sap comes up, the femme fatale throws it away to be doomed at his side. He fell in love with her when she first aimed a gun at him. Quentin Tarantino kissed star Peggy Cummins's feet at a showing of the film, and I hope she kicked him in the head.

Laura: Everyone was in love with Laura Hunt, and somebody killed her- or did they? Did they get the right person? Is the cop on the case in love with a dead woman? Was her columnist mentor just her gay best friend, or was there something darker beneath that facade? And what would Laura think of all this? A big inspiration on Twin Peaks.

In a Lonely Place: Bogart isn't at all heroic here, as a screenwriter with a drinking habit and a violent temper. He's obviously a bad idea to date, but just how bad an idea? He's not the type of guy who'd kill a woman, is he? Bogart and Gloria Holden give perhaps their best performances here, and they'll wound your soul.

Touch of Evil: A Mexican cop (played, unfortunately, by Charlton Heston) finds out a nasty secret about the big hero cop Hank Quinlan: he's framed the culprit in most of his cases. Not because he's crooked, but because his intuition tells him they're guilty. Director Orson Welles as Quinlan is frightening, grotesque, and a little bit tragic in what some consider the last classic noir.

The Killers: The first twenty minutes or so are an adaptation of a Hemingway story, where out of town hitmen gun down a man so depressed he won't even bother to run from them. The rest of the film is an investigation into how he got that way. It had something to do with a radiant gangster's girl, and something to do with a few botched crimes. Sometimes a man can die before the bullets even touch him.

The Third Man: Everybody is lying about the whereabouts of an American expatriate named Harry when his friend comes looking. Did they do something to him? Or, more frightening still, is he the one who's been doing things to other people? Orson Welles is a more charming monster than he was in Touch of Evil; the light and shadows on his face cast him as a vampire, while his fingers sticking up through the sewer grate look like something terrifying emerging from the earth.

#film noir #noirvember

102 notes · View notes

seitmai · 3 days ago

Text

Slowly, you sit up, blinking into your lap as Jake says something about an ambulance. You pass a hand over your brow, noting the sweat that’s gathered there, as Bradley starts listing off the various nutrient deficiencies that you may or may not possess. You glance up at the two of them feebly.

Not Bradley going over nutrient deficiencies lmao

“Did you take something?” he asks. “Not judging,” he adds. “Just need to tell the ambulance what you’re on.”

Hahah fair😅

“Fuck,” you mutter. “You guys actually called an ambulance?” “We thought you died,” Jake replies curtly. You look up at the back of his head as he waves over the medics. “Maybe check for a pulse next time,” you say, your ability to utilize sarcasm apparently restored.

Are those two not getting any first aid/cpr training at the Navy lol?

“I’m sorry,” he breathes and then squeezes his eyes shut and brings his hands up to his face. He pulls in a lungful of air, and then another. And then he lets out a sob. You open your eyes all the way and even lift your head up off the cushion slightly. “Are you crying?”Jake inhales sharply again and then releases an unsteady breath. He rubs the moisture from his eyes away roughly and lets out another sigh. “You scared the shit out of me,” he mutters, his voice just barely above a whisper. His glistening eyes finally meet yours.

🥺🥺🥺

"You’ve seen planes being shot out of the sky,” you remind him. Surely this can’t have been more traumatic than his job.

For real!

Jake gapes at you. “Your eyes rolled to the back of your head.” You grimace. “Eww. You don’t have to be so graphic.”

🤭🤭🤭

Jake chuckles and sniffles. “I’ve never been more terrified in my life.”

It's actually really cute how worried he is 🥹

You cringe at the green liquid in the glass. “I prefer to chew my food.” “Well, you’re in luck then,” he says. “Because the blender’s busted so this might be a little chunky.”

As Bradley shuffles about the kitchen, you contemplate your relationship with Jake, wondering if Bradley might be right. You fell for Jake long before he became boyfriend material and there are qualities about him you wouldn’t change for the world. But have there been things that you’ve tried to correct? Have you been unwittingly changing him? Shaping him into something he was never meant to be?

Noooo don't let this get in your head!!

“Oh my god, I love you!” you exclaim. Jake’s hand freezes in midair as he’s about to set down his offering on the coffee table. You meet his gaze in alarm, realizing what you’d just said. What you’d just admitted. Meanwhile, Bradley strolls into the living room, humming a tune, as oblivious as ever.

Bradley just sipping on his chunky smoothie with his head on another planet not registering a thing lol

“Wait for what?” you yell. “For you to finish freaking out?” Jake looks like he might be on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I wasn’t looking for you to say it back,” you declare. “But I admit that I was hoping for a more considerate acknowledgement.”

I think that's reasonable..

“I never would’ve gone there with you – kissed you, lied to Bradley” – Jake frowns slightly. “Never in a million years, Baby B. If I didn’t know without a shadow of a doubt that I was in love with you.” You gaze up at him, justifiably speechless. The fact that he didn’t make a move until he was absolutely certain sets your heart aflutter. You squeeze yourself into him and mutter sheepishly, “So, you love me back, then?” Jake chuckles and wraps his arms around you tightly. “You’re unbelievable,” he says. “Of course I fucking love you back.”

🥰🥰🥰

Brother's Best Friend - Part 14

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.

CW: swearing, a smidge of angst, and some good ol' fluff because that's what BBF is all about!

WC: 2900+

Part 1 | Masterlist

You look up as the door creaks open, your hand sweating against Jake’s palm. Your chest tightens and your head swims. Suddenly, your vision blurs.

…

You hear your name, but it’s muted, like someone is saying it underwater. You open your eyes and see two anxious faces hovering over you. You try to sit up, but your head is heavy and your limbs are weak and you’re disoriented because Jake and Bradley’s voices are getting louder and more overwhelming with every second. You want to tell them to be quiet but the words can’t seem to form in your mouth, or, rather, you’re far too exhausted to make the effort to speak.

Both enormous, grown-ass men are crouched before you, staring at you in terror.

“What happened?” Jake asks and you blink at him slowly, wondering the same thing.

“Are you okay?” Bradley says, tilting his head to the side so he could catch your gaze.

You nod uncertainly, because you’re not a hundred percent sure that you are. You look around unhurriedly, taking in your surroundings. You’re on the porch of your house in a cute little dress, and the porchlight is on because it’s dark out. And then it hits you like a ton of bricks. You’re still on the porch. Has Bradley been informed of the relationship? Or did he already know? Was he angry? Did you get caught in the crossfire and get knocked out?

You blink anxiously – and more alertly – between Jake and Bradley, trying to assess the situation. Neither of them seems to be paying any attention to one another; only to you. “What…” you start, but your voice croaks and you bring a hand up to your throat self-consciously. You clear your throat and start again. “What’s going on?” you ask casually, as though you’re not sitting unsteadily on the ground with no recollection of the last god knows how many minutes.

Bradley’s eyes widen in outrage. “What’s going on is you fucking fainted!”

You look at him with soaring eyebrows. “I did?”

“Right before Bradley came out to take out the trash,” Jake says, giving you a meaningful look.

“Ohhh,” you reply, dragging out the word. “The trash.” You nod again, trying to organize all of the information in your presently scrambled brain. “The trash,” you repeat.

“It’s garbage day tomorrow,” Bradley clarifies.

“Right.” You rub your sweaty palms on your thighs. “Garbage day.”

“And then you just” – Bradley makes a motion with his arm to indicate that you toppled over like a tree might fall when it’s chopped down, and you eye him thoughtfully, doubting your collapse was that dramatic. “You're lucky Seresin was here to catch you. You could have cracked your head open on the concrete.”

You glance over at Jake who’s keeping an unusually straight face. “So lucky,” you mutter without a hint of sarcasm because you don’t think you’re quite capable of that just yet. Nonetheless, Jake throws you a pointed look.

“You’re home late,” Bradley says casually, but you could tell that he’s concerned. “Did you party a little too hard?”

You furrow your eyebrows at him. “Me?” you ask, amused that he’s the one asking you this question and not the other way around.

“Did you take something?” he asks. “Not judging,” he adds. “Just need to tell the ambulance what you’re on.”

Jake briefly drops his head into his hand, but recovers just as quickly. “I don’t think she’s on anything,” he says quietly.

You give Jake a sour look because the only thing you’re on is four vintage cocktails and an espresso, and he knows it.

Bradley sighs. “Where were you, anyway?” he asks. “That Jake had to go pick you up?”

You narrow your eyes at your brother and then at your boyfriend, who is expertly avoiding your gaze. Clearly, he’s decided that Bradley is not equipped to handle two calamities in the same evening. “I was on a date,” you state contemptuously.

Jake stares at you rigidly while Bradley cringes. “I'm guessing it didn’t end well?”

You press your lips together irritably. “You could say that.”

Jake rolls his eyes and stands up. “Ambulance is here,” he says just as the ambulance pulls up and two paramedics rush up your driveway.

“Fuck,” you mutter. “You guys actually called an ambulance?”

“We thought you died,” Jake replies curtly.

You look up at the back of his head as he waves over the medics. “Maybe check for a pulse next time,” you say, your ability to utilize sarcasm apparently restored.

…

After you are thoroughly checked out and given the okay to stay home for the night, you trudge tiredly to the living room couch, Jake and Bradley hot on your heels.

“You should go to bed,” Jake says as you plop down into the cushions. “You need to rest.”

You close your eyes, sinking further into the cushions with a groan. “I won’t make it,” you respond, feeling the exhaustion as if it were a physical thing weighing you down.

Bradley places his hands on his hips. “Jake’s right, you need to get some sleep.”

“I am,” you whisper, your eyelids heavier than they've ever been.

“I’ve got an early day,” Bradley says apprehensively, as though he doesn’t want to leave.

“Go on, I’ll stay with her,” Jake says.

Bradley waits a beat, considering the offer, and then turns to look at his friend. “Thanks, man.” Bradley replies, giving Jake a pat on the shoulder. “I appreciate it.”

Jake nods without looking him in the eye and, once Bradley is upstairs, he approaches you slowly. He takes a seat on the opposite end of the couch.

You open your eyes about halfway, watching him warily. “I don’t think it’s contagious,” you murmur.

Jake doesn’t laugh. Instead, he eyes you grimly from his corner of the couch.

“Why aren’t you talking?” you ask, getting a little nervous because Jake isn’t normally the quiet type.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes and then squeezes his eyes shut and brings his hands up to his face. He pulls in a lungful of air, and then another. And then he lets out a sob.

You open your eyes all the way and even lift your head up off the cushion slightly. “Are you crying?”

Jake inhales sharply again and then releases an unsteady breath. He rubs the moisture from his eyes away roughly and lets out another sigh. “You scared the shit out of me,” he mutters, his voice just barely above a whisper. His glistening eyes finally meet yours.

You stare at him. “Did you actually think I died?”

“I’ve never seen anybody faint before,” he admits.

“You’ve seen planes being shot out of the sky,” you remind him. Surely this can’t have been more traumatic than his job.

Jake gapes at you. “Your eyes rolled to the back of your head.”

You grimace. “Eww. You don’t have to be so graphic.”

Jake chuckles and sniffles. “I’ve never been more terrified in my life.”

You drop your gaze into your lap. “Is that why you didn’t tell him?”

Jake sighs and brings a fist to his mouth. “What would I say, Baby B? ‘Hey, by the way, I’m dating your sister and she’s so stressed out about it that she’s fallen unconscious on the doorstep?’ Sorry, bro?”

You pout sullenly. “That’s not why I passed out.”

“Are you sure?” he asks. “Because if I’m the reason –”

“You’re not the reason,” you assure him, although you’re fairly certain he hit the nail right on the head.

Jake releases another heavy sigh. “I’ll tell him tomorrow.”

You close your eyes and rest the back of your head on the cushion once more. “Okay, Seresin,” you respond calmly. “But, if you don’t, I will.”

Jake slides closer to you on the couch and puts his arm above your head. You lift it slightly so that he could tuck his arm underneath, and then you let him pull you in. Falling asleep in this kind of embrace is all you’ve ever wanted since you met him but, alas, this moment feels less than magical.

…

The following morning, you’re startled awake by an obnoxious grinding sound that gradually turns to a sort of whirring. Bradley is in the kitchen making his morning shake. You glance around the room because you’re alone on the couch.

“Is Jake gone?” you call out to your brother.

“Good morning to you too,” Bradley calls back and then walks into the living room holding two shakes. “Made you breakfast.”

You cringe at the green liquid in the glass. “I prefer to chew my food.”

“Well, you’re in luck then,” he says. “Because the blender’s busted so this might be a little chunky.”

You hold back a gag. “Thanks,” you croak, taking the glass from Bradley’s hand as he sits on the couch at your feet.

“Sleep well?” he asks, taking a large gulp of his shake.

“I think so,” you respond, propping yourself up on a throw pillow and taking a sip. “This isn’t so bad, actually.”

Bradley shoots you a self-satisfied look. “I put Nutella in yours.”

You smile at him. “Sorry for the scare.”

Bradley watches you silently for a moment before taking another swig of his breakfast. “I’m concerned, Y/N.”

You sit up straighter. “I’m fine now.”

Bradley shakes his head. “I’m talking about Jake.”

You blink at him innocently while your guts twist in on themselves with dread. “What about Jake?”

“Have you noticed anything off about him lately?” he asks.

“Uh.” You gulp, stalling. “Not really. Have you?”

Bradley sighs. “He’s just been sort of…I dunno. Weird.”

“How so?” you ask, even though you know exactly how so. No doubt Bradley has taken note of Jake’s sudden disinterest in women and it strikes him as odd, considering his history.

“That chick he was dating, remember the one we teased him about? I’m pretty sure he’s still with her,” he says.

You take a long sip of your drink before responding. “Is that a bad thing?”

“I’m not sure,” he says. “I just have a bad feeling about it.”

You glance up at him nervously. “Why?”

Bradley meets your gaze with a defeated expression. “She’s changing him.”

You are far too guilt-ridden to keep looking your brother in the eye, so you drop your gaze to instead study the puke-green color of your shake. “For the worse?” you ask quietly.

Bradley sighs. “I can’t tell.”

You bite your lip, trying not to frown too hard. “He shouldn’t have to change,” you say.

Bradley nods slowly. “That’s what I was thinking.” You swallow another chunky mouthful of your breakfast shake as Bradley rises from the couch. “You should get some more sleep,” he says. “I’ll see you after work.”

As you sit there in thought, Jake walks through the front door with a paper bag and a tray of coffees. “I brought breakfast!” he calls when Bradley peeks his head out of the kitchen.

“Thank god,” you mutter, setting down your half-drunk shake.

Bradley gives you a look. “I heard that.”

You purse your lips to hide a grin. “I’m hungry!”

“I fed you!” Bradley exclaims.

“I’m hungry for real food, not plants,” you whine.

Jake enters the living room proudly. “Real food, coming right up,” he declares.

“Oh my god, I love you!” you exclaim.

Jake’s hand freezes in midair as he’s about to set down his offering on the coffee table. You meet his gaze in alarm, realizing what you’d just said. What you’d just admitted. Meanwhile, Bradley strolls into the living room, humming a tune, as oblivious as ever.

Your heart pounds in your chest as Jake slowly lowers the bag onto the table, his eyes still locked on yours. “I made you breakfast,” Bradley says, sticking his hand into the bag to retrieve a wrapped bagel. “But him, you love.” Bradley proceeds to unwrap his bagel. “I see how it is,” he says after taking a bite.

You swallow around a giant lump in your throat, suddenly not remotely hungry. “I…” you start, your voice wavering uncontrollably. “I… love food,” you conclude.

Bradley raises his eyebrows. “You were talking to the bagels?”

You notice Jake suck in his cheeks as he tries not to laugh.

You nod vehemently, feeling like you might just faint again. “Can you pass me one?” You reach your hand out, ignoring Jake’s face completely as he hands you a bagel.

“Alright, kids,” Bradley says. “I’m out.” He starts for the door but, just before leaving, he calls out, “Behave.”

The sound of the door closing behind him makes you severely nauseated, because it directly precedes the moment you have to face Jake. You glance up at him slowly as he digs his own bagel out of the bag. Finally, his eyes meet yours. “’Sup, Baby B?” he says nonchalantly, and you can tell that he’s prepared to overlook the slip if you are. For all he knows, it was a completely innocent statement and meant nothing at all.

But you know otherwise. And perhaps it’s the residual stress or the lack of sleep, or perhaps it’s the fear that your brother might be right about your influence over Jake, but you suddenly feel compelled to tell him. You suddenly feel like he has a right know. “I wasn’t talking to the bagels,” you blurt out.

Jake glances up at you in surprise. He gives you a small smile. “You don’t say,” he responds wryly.

You let out an impatient sigh, annoyed that he’s being so flippant. “I’m being serious.”

Jake nods. “Oh, I know. You were talking to the coffee, obviously.” He tries to hand you a cup.

“Jake!” you exclaim. “Stop being an idiot! I’m telling you I love you!”

Jake sets the cup down and blinks at you with a small, wonderstruck smile, like he can’t quite believe that you’ve said it again. “You mean it?” he asks.

You stare at him wide-eyed, alarmed that that’s all he’s got to say. But it’s not as if you can take it back now. You nod hesitantly.

Jake straightens his back and grimaces, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath.

You watch him in outrage. His reluctance to engage on account of your brother is no longer cute. You attempt to compose yourself, to hide the pain your face might otherwise betray. You rise from the couch in silence and begin to walk away.

“No” – Jake starts, catching you by the arm before you’ve even cleared the coffee table – “that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry.”

You yank your arm out of his grasp, but he just takes your waist instead. “Let go!” you shout, twisting away, and Jake immediately releases you, throwing his hands up in the air.

“Wait,” he pleads desperately.

“Wait for what?” you yell. “For you to finish freaking out?”

Jake looks like he might be on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry,” he repeats.

“I wasn’t looking for you to say it back,” you declare. “But I admit that I was hoping for a more considerate acknowledgement.”

Jake takes a step toward you. “Can I touch you again?” he asks, holding his hands about six inches away from either of your arms.

“No,” you respond stubbornly, not looking him in the eye.

Jake sighs, bringing his hands up to his eyes and sliding them bleakly down his face. “Do you really think I would have ever done this if I wasn’t already in love with you?”

You glance up at him, still frowning. “Done what?” you ask quietly.

Jake furrows his eyebrows. “Can I please touch you?”

You press your lips together to keep them from quivering and nod your head.

Jake put his palms on either side of your face and takes another step toward you so that he could rest his forehead over yours. “I’m sorry I’m an idiot,” he says.

You let out a shallow sigh, wondering if perhaps you’ve overreacted. “You don’t have to apologize for being yourself,” you respond glumly.

Jake snorts. “Gee, thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” you say, feeling your mouth stretch into a tiny smile despite your irritation.

Jake brushes his thumbs across your cheeks. “I loved you before I even realized I liked you.”

You meet his gaze skeptically. “That seems improbable.”

Jake grins. “Ever the romantic.”

You roll your eyes as his hands fall to your shoulders.

You gaze up at him, justifiably speechless. The fact that he didn’t make a move until he was absolutely certain sets your heart aflutter. You squeeze yourself into him and mutter sheepishly, “So, you love me back, then?”

Jake chuckles and wraps his arms around you tightly. “You’re unbelievable,” he says. “Of course I fucking love you back.”

Hangman Tag List:

A/N: The rest of the list will be in the comments. As always, let me know if you don't want to be tagged anymore.

@atarmychick007

@callsign-sunshine

@shanimallina87

@wkndwlff

@thefandomimagines

@lunamoonbby

@xoxabs88xox

@desert-fern

@averyhotchner

@hiireadstuff

@teacupsandtopgun

@lilyevanswhore

@sarcasm-n-insomnia

@avengers-fixation

@malindacath

@maddievevo

@widemiffyhappy

@dempy

@djs8891

@pono-pura-vida

@phoenix1388

@teaminator

@rascallyrascals

@kmc1989

@drakelover78

@hangmanscoming

@seitmai

@sky2nd

@mrseans90

@wretchedmo

@trashlandqueen

@dylanodaddie

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@chewymoustachio

@itsizzythebell

@marvelshoney

@sarcastic-sourwolf

@extremelyexhaustedpigeon

@goldtrashbag

@livthelazywriter

@uhmellamoanna

@evansqueen54

@localfluffsupplier

@xsecretsirenx

@jtheteenagewitch

@just-a-blue-nerd

@unattainablesillygoose

@erinnn-brry

@thedonswife13

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

514 notes · View notes

fictional-reylin · 3 days ago

Text

A simple one-shot of Aizawa and his cat gf. People usually write the reader as an opposite to him, but I wanted to experiment with a reader who has a similar personality, maybe even somber. Enjoy !

You are welcome to send requests/asks. Just make sure to read my rules.

As you sat by your desk, working away on your computer, you could hear the sounds of rain hitting on your window. Despite being partially a cat, you liked the rain, it brought to you a strange sense of comfort that you couldn't really explain, like it was a sign that this was going to be a peaceful evening for you.

You looked out through said window and began staring at the droplets sliding down the glass, watching them connect as they slid down, until you saw Shōta's reflection. Not very clear, but you could still see his usual tired expression that greeted you every time he came back from UA.

"You look dead" you said turning around to face him, your usual deadpan expression in place. "Did someone steal your sleeping bag at work ?”

"Verry funny y/n. Did the rain traumatise you ?” He said referring to your face. Never mind his tired state, he quickly made his way over to you and pulled you into a hug by your waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

You let out a hum of contentment before wrapping your own arms around his shoulder, hiding your face in his chest, seeking shelter from the cold weather that managed to get into your shared apartment. He was always so warm, it always made you sleepy.

You stayed like this, almost falling asleep, until he started toying with your tail and you shot your eyes open in slight annoyance. Looking up at him, you saw that cocky smirk that adorned his face every time he would do something like this.

“Seriously ?”

“Blame yourself for dating a cat person” He answered, kissing the top of your head.

You were never really annoyed at him. You enjoyed his little shenanigans, how he would always scratch your ears, tell you to purr for him or play with your tail. It was a sweet reminder that your quirk wasn’t just something that made your life more difficult because of loud noises or tail getting stuck somewhere. For him it was a cute part of yourself that he could adore as much as the rest of you.

Of course, you would never admit that to his face. Communication wasn’t really your strong suit, and neither was it his, but you always managed to understand each other through your actions, and that’s what made him all the more attractive in your eyes. You could still be this quiet and introverted self, and he would still get you as if he had read your mind

“But seriously, you look tired. We should nap” you dragged him towards your bed without waiting for his answers, pulling him down with you and laying on his chest under the covers. In the short amount of time that you two dated, you quickly understood that he enjoyed this, being able to wind down, with you clinging to him, your soft purrs rumbling through your chest and your tail wrapped somewhere around his body.

He wrapped his arms around you, scratching the back of your head as he could finally relax in your embrace. He sighed, looking down at you with half lidded eyes.

“I love you, you know that ?”

“You show it to me like a million times a day”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing”

Not wanting to further this discussion you just kissed him, smiling against his lips as he returned the gesture

“Now shut up and let me sleep. Love you too”

And with that, you both felt asleep in each other's arms, the sweet sound of your purrs and the rain echoing somewhere in the back of your minds.

Thank you so much for reading ! If you want to join in my daydream, consider checking out my navigation.

#aizawa x reader #aizawa shota x reader #aizawa shouta #aizawa shōta #eraserhead #eraserhead x reader #aizawa fluff #mha imagines #bnha imagines #mha aizawa #bnha aizawa #mha oneshot #bnha oneshot

66 notes · View notes

ghostly--photography · 2 days ago

Text

Homesick for the Home We Made| A. Fantilli

Summary: Adam and Y/N have been inseparable since their college days at UMich, bound by a love that grew through the late nights, laughter, and unwavering support. Now, as Adam begins his professional hockey career with the Columbus Blue Jackets, their relationship faces new trials. From navigating the pressures of the NHL, the relentless spotlight, and the strain of long-distance travel, to coping with injuries and doubts, they fight to stay connected amidst the demands of his rising fame.

Word Count: 8986

University of Michigan, 2022

The nights they spent in the library became their little ritual, a comforting constant amid their busy college lives. Adam’s schedule was intense, between morning practices, back-to-back classes, and late-night studying, yet he’d always make time to meet her there, settling into their usual corner by the large window that overlooked campus. Tonight, like every night, he’d saved her a seat, draping his hoodie over the chair beside him so she’d know he was waiting.

When she arrived, a warm feeling washed over her, seeing him so intently focused, tapping a pen against his notebook. His brow was furrowed in concentration, jaw set in that familiar way, yet the moment he saw her, his face softened, a grin spreading across his face.

“Hey, you,” he said, slipping his arm around her shoulders as she sat down, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Missed you.”

She laughed, leaning into his side. “We were together this morning. You really missed me already?”

“More than you know,” he murmured, squeezing her shoulder. There was always something about him—a quiet warmth and sweetness that made her feel like she was the only thing in his world, even when he was balancing a million different pressures. He set his pen down, focusing his attention entirely on her, and she couldn’t help but smile.

They worked side by side for a while, falling into the easy rhythm they had developed over the months, sharing notes and sneaking little glances at each other. Occasionally, Adam would steal a quick kiss, his smile making her heart skip. It was these little moments that made her realize just how deeply she had fallen for him—the quiet understanding, the silent support, the shared smiles.

As they walked back to his dorm under the glow of the campus streetlights, a comfortable silence fell between them. The autumn air was crisp, and she felt Adam’s fingers tighten around hers, as if grounding her in that moment.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, stopping them both. She turned to face him, surprised by the sudden intensity in his gaze. “I’ve been wanting to tell you something.”

She felt her heartbeat quicken as he looked at her, the seriousness in his eyes sending a shiver down her spine. “What is it?”

He took a deep breath, glancing down before meeting her gaze again. “Y/N, I know we’re both young, and we don’t have everything figured out, but…I know I want this. I know I want you, in my life, no matter what.”

His words were a revelation, each one grounding her in a reality she’d hoped for but hadn’t dared to expect. She looked up at him, a soft smile breaking across her face as she felt a surge of affection. “Adam, I feel the same way,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. “You mean everything to me.”

He pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her in a hug that felt like a promise. She could feel his heartbeat against her, steady and reassuring. After a moment, he pulled back, looking down at her with a tenderness that made her heart ache.

“Let’s go inside,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with a mixture of excitement and vulnerability.

As soon as they closed the door, Adam’s hands found her waist, pulling her into a kiss that was soft at first but grew with an intensity neither of them could ignore. His hands traveled up her sides, sending a thrill through her, and she felt herself melt into him, her fingers tangling in his hair.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, his breath warm against her neck as he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers.

She nodded, her voice steady. “I’ve never been more sure.”

In that quiet room, they explored each other, savoring every touch, every kiss, as if they were making a silent promise to be there, to love each other no matter what life would throw at them. They moved together in a way that felt effortless, their bodies communicating a desire and trust that words could never capture. And when they finally lay side by side, wrapped in each other’s arms, she knew this was a memory she would carry with her always.

The room was filled with the quiet hum of their breathing as they drifted into sleep, the campus lights casting a warm glow through the window. Adam held her close, his fingers tracing light circles along her back as she rested her head on his chest.

“Stay with me tonight,” he whispered, his voice filled with a vulnerable hope.

She smiled, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Summer 2023, NHL Draft Day

The months flew by, and suddenly, it was draft season. Adam’s nerves were palpable, but he tried to hide them behind his usual smile, his arms wrapped around her as they waited for his name to be called. The night was electric with excitement, but beneath it, she could feel his tension, the anticipation of everything they had worked toward coming down to this single moment.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly, squeezing his hand. She could see the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, and it made her heart ache.

He nodded, flashing her a smile. “Yeah, just…a lot of pressure,” he admitted, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a calming rhythm. “But having you here…that makes all the difference.”

She smiled, leaning up to kiss him gently, trying to convey every ounce of love and belief she had in him. “You’ve got this. No matter where you go, you’re going to do incredible things.”

The moment his name was called, the room erupted into applause. She watched him, pride swelling in her chest as he hugged his family and friends, giving her a last, lingering look before making his way to the stage. It was a look that said everything he couldn’t put into words—a promise, a silent thank you, a reminder that she was part of this journey with him.

As the night wound down and the crowd thinned, Adam pulled her aside, his expression turning serious. They found a quiet corner, away from the noise, the celebration, and he took her hands, looking down at them as if collecting his thoughts.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen next,” he began, his voice soft, laced with a nervous vulnerability. “But I don’t want to do this without you.”

Her breath hitched as she realized the weight of his words, the unspoken question hanging between them.

“Adam,” she said, her voice shaking slightly, “are you saying…?”

He nodded, meeting her gaze. “Come with me. Move with me to Columbus. I don’t want us to be apart—I want us to figure this out together.”

Her heart skipped a beat, a mixture of excitement and fear welling up inside her. It was a big decision, a huge leap into an uncertain future, but as she looked into his eyes, she knew there was only one answer.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice filled with a quiet certainty. “I’m with you. Wherever you go, I’m right there.”

They held each other tightly, both of them feeling the enormity of what lay ahead. But in that moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, they felt an unshakeable confidence—a shared certainty that, together, they could face whatever challenges would come their way.

Later that night, in the quiet of the hotel room, they shared a moment that felt sacred. Their kisses were slower, deeper, filled with the promise of everything they had committed to. Adam’s hands were tender as they explored her, memorizing every inch of her skin, his touch full of reverence.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, his voice filled with awe and a hint of nervousness.

She nodded, her eyes meeting his. “Absolutely. I love you, Adam.”

He smiled, his hand cupping her cheek. “I love you too, Y/N. More than you’ll ever know.”

As they lay together afterward, tangled in each other’s arms, she felt a profound sense of peace. It was as if the entire world had shrunk down to this single room, to the quiet of their breathing, to the warmth of his body beside her. They had made a promise tonight—a commitment to face the future together, to stay by each other’s side, no matter what. And in that moment, she knew there was nothing they couldn’t face as long as they had each other.

Columbus, Ohio – Fall 2023

Moving to Columbus was a whirlwind for both of them. The new city buzzed with excitement for Adam’s arrival, and the Blue Jackets fan base was thrilled to welcome their young prospect. The city had a new energy, one that felt vibrant and alive, as Adam settled into his role on the team.

Adam and Y/N found a modest, cozy apartment downtown, close enough to the rink for his practices but far enough that they could enjoy some quiet time together. The place was small, but it was theirs, and they spent the first few weeks transforming the bare walls and empty spaces into something that felt like home.

Boxes were everywhere as they unpacked, laughing and bickering playfully over where things should go. Adam insisted on keeping his signed rookie stick leaning in the corner of the living room, while she countered with a set of cozy throw pillows she’d found on a shopping trip. Every little detail was a negotiation, filled with laughter and eye rolls that melted into shared smiles.

“You know,” she teased one night, standing in the kitchen with her hands on her hips, “if you’d let me put those curtains up instead of keeping that blanket over the window, this place might actually start looking like a real apartment.”

Adam grinned, tossing a pillow onto the couch before walking over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “You saying my decorating skills aren’t good enough?” he asked, nuzzling her neck.

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “I’m saying you’re better at scoring goals than picking out curtains.”

He pulled her closer, his voice dropping. “And which one of those is most important to you?”

Her cheeks warmed as she looked up at him, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Guess it depends on the context,” she murmured, her voice softening as their gazes locked.

The warmth in his eyes turned into something deeper, and he leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, filled with a mixture of tenderness and longing. His hands slipped to her waist, pulling her closer, and she felt herself melt into him, their bodies pressed together as if they were one.

They spent the rest of the night tangled together, exploring every inch of their new space in a way that made it feel truly theirs. It was as if each touch, each kiss, each whispered word was imprinting memories into the walls, filling the empty spaces with moments only they would know.

The honeymoon period of settling into the new apartment soon gave way to the challenges of Adam’s grueling schedule. Training camps, team practices, media obligations—it was a new rhythm, and it pulled him away from her more often than either of them had anticipated. Early mornings turned into long days at the rink, and by the time Adam got home, he was exhausted, barely able to muster up the energy for anything other than collapsing onto the couch.

At first, she tried to ignore the pang of loneliness that crept in during the quiet hours she spent alone in their apartment, filling her days with work, exploring the city, and calling friends from Michigan. But as the weeks went by, she couldn’t shake the feeling of missing him, even when he was right there beside her.

One evening, after a particularly grueling practice, Adam came home, dropping his bag by the door with a tired sigh. She could see the weariness etched into his face, his usual spark dulled by exhaustion. He offered her a faint smile as he kicked off his shoes, heading straight for the couch.

She sat down beside him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Long day?”

He nodded, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “You have no idea. I mean, I knew the NHL was going to be intense, but this… it’s next level.” His voice was low, almost defeated, and it tugged at her heart.

“Hey,” she said softly, rubbing his shoulder. “You don’t have to be perfect all the time. You’re allowed to be tired, Adam. It’s a lot to handle.”

He turned to look at her, his eyes softening as he took her hand, pulling her into his lap. “Thanks, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

They sat together in comfortable silence, her fingers brushing through his hair as he leaned his head against her shoulder. Slowly, she felt his breathing even out, and she realized he’d fallen asleep, his arms still wrapped around her. She smiled to herself, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

The following morning, she woke up to find him already gone, his side of the bed cold, a note on the nightstand that read: Couldn’t wake you. Wanted you to sleep in. I’ll be home as soon as I can. Miss you already.

It was the kind of note that left her heart aching in the best way, but also reminded her of the distance that had crept between them, even in their shared space.

Despite the challenges, they found ways to make it work, weaving small routines into the chaos. She’d pack his lunch, slipping little notes into his bag—inside jokes, or silly sketches of the two of them—that he’d find in between drills. And on nights when he got home early enough, they’d cook together, laughing as they danced around the kitchen, turning the simplest tasks into cherished rituals.

One night, they were attempting to make pasta—a meal that turned into a bit of a disaster when Adam managed to overcook the noodles. He looked at the pot with a mixture of defeat and confusion.

“Who knew pasta could be so difficult?” he groaned, looking over at her with a sheepish grin.

She laughed, wrapping her arms around him from behind. “It’s okay. You might be terrible at cooking, but you’re still my favorite person.”

He turned around, pulling her into a hug. “Yeah? Even when I mess up pasta?”

“Especially when you mess up pasta,” she replied, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

They ended up ordering takeout, curling up on the couch as they ate, laughing over the mess they’d left in the kitchen. It was moments like these, filled with warmth and laughter, that reminded them both of why they were doing this—of the love that had brought them together and continued to hold them close, even through the difficult days.

One Friday evening, after a particularly intense game, Adam returned home, his energy still buzzing from the win. She greeted him at the door with a warm smile, feeling her own excitement swell as he swept her up into his arms, spinning her around.

“We won, babe!” he said, his grin infectious. “I can’t believe it—it was insane! I thought we were done for in the third period, but we pulled it off.”

She laughed, holding onto him as he set her down, his arms still wrapped around her. “I’m so proud of you, Adam. You were amazing out there.”

His eyes softened, and he pulled her closer, resting his forehead against hers. “Couldn’t have done it without knowing you’re here, waiting for me,” he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity.

In that moment, she felt her heart swell with love, the struggles and loneliness of the past few weeks fading away as they held each other. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that was soft at first, filled with a mixture of gratitude and longing. But soon, the kiss deepened, fueled by the passion that had been simmering beneath the surface.

They moved together to the bedroom, his hands exploring her as if he were memorizing every inch of her. Their kisses were slow and deliberate, each touch a reminder of the love they shared, the commitment they’d made to each other. They undressed slowly, savoring the intimacy, the connection that felt so much deeper after the time they’d spent apart.

Afterward, they lay tangled in each other’s arms, their breaths mingling as they whispered to each other in the quiet darkness. He told her about the game, sharing the small details he usually kept to himself—the nerves, the pressure, the way he’d thought of her during every break. And she listened, feeling closer to him than ever before, her fingers tracing light patterns along his chest.

As the night wore on, they drifted into a peaceful sleep, feeling a renewed sense of connection. For the first time in weeks, they both felt truly at home.

The next morning, she woke up to the smell of coffee and the sound of soft music coming from the kitchen. She padded out of the bedroom, smiling when she found him standing by the stove, humming along to the song as he cooked.

“Look who’s trying to make up for last night’s pasta disaster,” she teased, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind.

He laughed, turning around to kiss her. “I figured breakfast was the least I could do,” he said, grinning as he handed her a cup of coffee.

They spent the morning together, sharing a quiet breakfast, laughing and talking about their plans for the weekend. It was a simple, unremarkable moment, but to both of them, it felt like a little slice of happiness—a reminder of why they were doing this, and how much they meant to each other.

As they sat there, her hand in his, she felt a sense of contentment

Columbus, Ohio – Winter 2023

As the season progressed, Adam’s name began to pop up more frequently in the media. Headlines praised his impressive rookie performance, and clips of his plays trended on social media almost every week. Fans posted nonstop about his potential, and interviews with him were filled with questions about his goals and his future with the Blue Jackets. At first, it was exhilarating for both of them. Watching him on the ice, seeing how the city celebrated his success, made her heart swell with pride.

But as his fame grew, so did the pressures and the expectations. More demands on his time left him exhausted and often distracted. Nights out were frequently interrupted by fans wanting photos, or journalists eager for a quote, which Adam always handled with a smile, never wanting to disappoint anyone. She admired his dedication, but she began to feel as if they were sharing less and less of their world together.

One evening, after a particularly demanding week, they went out for dinner, hoping to carve out some time just for the two of them. But even in the cozy, dimly lit restaurant they’d chosen, whispers followed them, and a few fans approached their table.

“Hey, Adam, big fans—would you mind signing something for us?” one of them asked, an excited look on her face. Adam glanced at Y/N apologetically, but she gave him a small nod, urging him to go ahead.

He returned to their table after a few minutes, reaching for her hand, his face slightly flushed. “Sorry about that,” he murmured, his thumb tracing over her knuckles. “Guess this comes with the territory.”

She managed a small smile, but there was a twinge of something she couldn’t ignore—something that felt like loneliness. “It’s okay,” she said, keeping her tone light. “I’m just still getting used to sharing you with everyone.”

He looked at her, his expression softening as he realized the weight of her words. “You’ll never have to share me, Y/N. Not really. You know that, right?”

She forced a nod, but a part of her couldn’t ignore the growing fear that, eventually, the world might take too much of him. She squeezed his hand, trying to push the thought away. “I know,” she whispered, hoping she sounded more certain than she felt.

As the season wore on, the distance between them felt less like an occasional inconvenience and more like a permanent shadow that loomed over their relationship. Adam was constantly traveling for away games, and even when he was home, his mind was often preoccupied with training or strategies. The rare moments they did spend together were often late at night, with him collapsing into bed beside her, exhausted, barely able to keep his eyes open as he murmured a sleepy “Goodnight.”

One evening, she finally couldn’t keep it bottled up any longer. They were sitting on the couch, him scrolling through his phone, catching up on game footage, when she spoke.

“Adam,” she began, her voice quiet but steady. He looked up, noticing the serious expression on her face.

“Yeah?” He set his phone down, his attention fully on her.

She took a deep breath, searching for the right words. “I just…I miss us. I feel like we’re always together, but I’m not really with you. Not the way we used to be.”

A flicker of guilt crossed his face, and he reached for her hand. “Y/N…I know it’s been tough. I feel it too. I don’t want you to feel like I’m drifting away. I’m just trying to keep up with everything, you know? The team, the media, the expectations…it’s all so much.”

Her heart softened, and she placed her hand on his cheek, her thumb brushing over his skin. “I know, and I’m so proud of you. But I need you too. Not the player, not the celebrity—just you.”

He pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her as he pressed his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re my whole world, Y/N. I don’t want to lose us in all of this.”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him close. “Then let’s make time for each other. Even if it’s just little moments. I don’t want us to get lost in the noise.”

They sat like that for a long time, wrapped in each other’s warmth, a silent agreement passing between them. They promised each other that, no matter what, they would find ways to stay connected, to hold onto the love that had brought them together in the first place.

A few weeks later, Adam surprised her with a weekend getaway. He booked a small cabin an hour outside the city, nestled in the woods, where they could disconnect from the world and just be together.

As they drove up to the cabin, she felt a thrill of excitement, the tension of the past few months melting away. The cabin was cozy, with a fireplace crackling in the corner, and a view of the snow-covered trees outside. They spent the first day simply enjoying each other’s company, cooking together, sharing stories, and laughing like they hadn’t in months.

That night, as they sat by the fire, wrapped in blankets, he pulled her close, his fingers tracing light patterns along her arm. “I missed this,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of tenderness. “I missed just being with you, away from everything else.”

She looked up at him, her heart swelling with love. “Me too,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss him. The kiss was slow, unhurried, as if they had all the time in the world. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her onto his lap as he deepened the kiss, their breaths mingling in the quiet warmth of the room.

They moved together with a renewed passion, savoring each touch, each whisper. It felt like a rediscovery of everything they loved about each other, a reminder of the connection that went beyond the demands of his career. They undressed slowly, their bodies pressed together as they explored each other, the intimacy of the moment grounding them in a way that nothing else could.

Afterward, they lay tangled in each other’s arms, the glow of the fire casting a warm light across the room. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, feeling a peace she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“I love you,” he whispered, his fingers brushing through her hair. “More than anything. Thank you for being here, for sticking with me through all of this.”

She smiled, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I love you too, Adam. Always.”

They drifted into a peaceful sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, knowing that, no matter how tough things got, they would always find their way back to each other.

The weekend away renewed their strength, but as they returned to Columbus, the pressures of Adam’s career quickly crept back in. Yet, this time, they both held onto the memory of the cabin, the quiet promises they’d made to each other. They made an effort to carve out little moments—a morning coffee shared in comfortable silence, a late-night drive to clear their heads, a quiet dinner in their favorite restaurant where they could be just two people in love.

One evening, as they sat on the couch after another long day, she rested her head on his shoulder, feeling a sense of contentment she hadn’t felt in months.

“Do you ever wonder if it’ll get easier?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

He looked down at her, a gentle smile on his face. “Sometimes. But even if it doesn’t, I know we’ll get through it. We’re in this together, right?”

She smiled, her fingers lacing with his. “Always.”

In that moment, she knew that, no matter how intense the pressures of his career became, no matter how many obstacles they faced, they would find a way to hold onto each other. They were each other’s constant, the quiet strength that carried them through the noise and chaos. And in the end, that was all they needed.

Later that night, as they lay in bed, Adam pulled her close, his hands tracing light circles along her back. “Thank you for being my rock,” he murmured, his voice filled with warmth. “For always understanding, even when I’m not around as much as I want to be.”

She looked up at him, her heart swelling with love. “You’re worth it, Adam. Every second.”

He leaned down, capturing her lips in a slow, tender kiss, filled with all the gratitude and love he couldn’t put into words. They moved together, their bodies fitting perfectly, each touch a reminder of the promises they had made to each other. In the quiet darkness, they shared a connection that went beyond words, a love that was steadfast and unbreakable.

As they lay together afterward, wrapped in each other’s arms, she felt a renewed sense of peace, a quiet certainty that, no matter where life took them, they would always find their way back to each other.

Michigan and Beyond – Summer 2024

The off-season finally arrived, and with it came a long-awaited break from the demands and pressures of the NHL. For the first time in months, Adam didn’t have to rush off to practices, interviews, or endless travel. He was just…Adam, the guy she’d fallen in love with back in college, and for a few precious months, they were able to live without a schedule dictating every hour of their day.

It was late June when they decided to visit Michigan, eager to revisit the place where their journey began. The drive back was filled with a comfortable silence, punctuated by laughter and the occasional off-key singing as they played their favorite songs from their college days. The familiar landscape rolled by, the roads bringing back memories of late-night drives, coffee runs, and spontaneous adventures.

When they arrived, the University of Michigan campus was quieter, the summer break leaving the buildings mostly empty. They parked the car and walked hand-in-hand through the familiar paths, the air filled with nostalgia.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Adam asked, glancing down at her with a soft smile. “I couldn’t even focus on practice that day. My teammates gave me so much grief for being distracted.”

She laughed, nudging him playfully. “I remember you nearly walked into a door because you were staring at me.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Hey, I couldn’t help it. You looked…amazing. Still do.”

They wandered around the campus, revisiting their favorite spots—the library where they’d spent countless nights studying together, the little café where they had their first date, the rink where she’d cheered him on at every game. Each place held a memory, and they spent hours reminiscing, sharing stories and laughing at all the little things that had brought them together.

That evening, they drove out to a secluded lake where they had often gone during their college years to escape the world for a while. The sun was setting, casting a warm golden glow over the water, and the quiet of the place wrapped around them like a comforting blanket.

Adam spread out a blanket on the shore, and they lay side by side, watching the sky transform from soft pinks and oranges to deep purples and blues. He reached for her hand, lacing his fingers with hers, and she looked over at him, her heart swelling with love.

“You know,” he began, his voice soft and thoughtful, “coming back here with you… It reminds me of how lucky I am to have you in my life. I don’t say it enough, but I don’t know where I’d be without you, Y/N.”

She felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, her heart fluttering at his words. “Adam, I feel the same way. Being here with you, away from everything else, it’s like…this is how it’s supposed to be. Just us.”

They shared a long, lingering kiss, their bodies pressed close as the cool evening breeze rustled around them. There was something grounding about being in that familiar place, surrounded by nature, with nothing but each other. They moved together in the fading light, every touch filled with tenderness, every kiss a promise of the love they’d built and the future they would share.

They spent the night lying on the blanket, watching the stars, talking about their dreams, their fears, and their plans for the future. It was a rare, cherished moment, the kind that only came when time seemed to stand still, and they could simply be together, with no demands or expectations.

The next day, they set out on a road trip across Michigan, stopping at small towns, scenic overlooks, and quirky little roadside attractions. The freedom of the open road was exhilarating, and they filled the trip with laughter, silly selfies, and spontaneous detours.

At one point, they stopped at a little antique shop in a small town, where she found a vintage record player she’d always dreamed of having. Adam insisted on buying it for her, despite her protests.

“Come on, it’s perfect for our apartment,” he said with a grin, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “And we’ll fill it with all our favorite records.”

She rolled her eyes, but her heart warmed at the gesture. “You’re spoiling me, you know that?”

He shrugged, a playful smile on his lips. “Well, you deserve to be spoiled.”

They ended up spending half the day exploring the shop, picking out records and laughing over the quirky finds. It was a small, simple moment, but it felt like a piece of happiness, one of those memories that would stay with them long after the road trip was over.

Their last night in Michigan, they decided to revisit their favorite college bar—a little dive just off campus where they had spent countless nights with friends, celebrating wins and commiserating over losses. They ordered their usual drinks, laughing as they slipped back into the carefree atmosphere of their college days.

The bar was filled with students, and a few of them recognized Adam, offering congratulations on his success with the Blue Jackets. He smiled, thanking them graciously, but he kept his attention on her, his arm wrapped protectively around her waist as if grounding himself in the present.

They danced to the old songs they’d loved in college, laughing as they spun each other around, letting loose in a way they hadn’t been able to in months. There was something freeing about being there, away from the eyes of the media, away from the pressures of his career. For that night, they were just Adam and Y/N, two people who had fallen in love in a little college town, and it felt like nothing else mattered.

As they left the bar in the early hours of the morning, he pulled her close, his voice soft in her ear. “Thank you for this,” he murmured, his eyes filled with gratitude. “For everything. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

She smiled, leaning up to kiss him. “We’re both lucky, Adam.”

They walked back to their car, hand in hand, feeling a renewed sense of connection, a reminder of everything that had brought them together.

When they finally returned to Columbus, they spent the next morning lounging around their apartment, savoring the last moments of their time off. They made breakfast together, laughing as they danced around the kitchen, stealing kisses between flipping pancakes and sipping coffee.

After breakfast, they curled up on the couch, wrapped in a cozy blanket as they listened to the records they’d bought on their trip. The soft melodies filled the room, and they sat in comfortable silence, her head resting on his shoulder, his arm draped around her.

“Do you ever think about the future?” she asked quietly, breaking the silence.

He looked down at her, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, all the time. Especially when I think about you.”

She smiled, feeling a flutter of excitement at his words. “What do you see?”

He took a deep breath, his gaze softening. “I see us. Maybe a house someday, a place we can really make our own. And…maybe a family, if that’s what you want.”

Her heart skipped a beat, her cheeks warming. “I’d like that,” she whispered, feeling a mixture of excitement and hope.

He pulled her closer, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Then that’s what we’ll have.”

They spent the rest of the morning wrapped in each other’s arms, talking about their dreams and the life they wanted to build together. It was a quiet, precious moment, a promise of the future they were creating, step by step.

As the off-season came to an end, they spent their last days together savoring every moment. They took long walks around the city, went on picnics, and spent late nights watching movies, laughing and holding each other close. Each moment was a reminder of the love they shared, the foundation they had built, and the dreams they had for the future.

On their final night before the season began again, Adam surprised her with a romantic dinner on their balcony, stringing up fairy lights and setting the table with candles and flowers. They spent the evening under the stars, sharing stories, laughter, and quiet, lingering kisses.

As the night drew to a close, he took her hand, his eyes filled with love and a quiet intensity. “Whatever happens this season, wherever this career takes me, I want you to know that you’re my priority. You’re the one thing that keeps me grounded, that reminds me of who I am. I’ll never lose sight of that, or of you.”

She felt her heart swell, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I know, Adam. And I’m here for you, no matter where this takes us. I love you.”

They shared a kiss under the stars, their hearts full of hope and promise. As they held each other close, they both knew that, no matter how demanding life became, they would always find their way back to each other. Their love was their anchor, their constant, and it was a promise that neither of them would ever break.

Columbus, Ohio – Mid-Season 2024

The season was in full swing, and Adam had been pushing himself harder than ever, determined to keep up with the demands of his growing career. Game after game, he poured everything he had into the ice, always eager to improve, to prove himself. But one night, after a particularly intense game, everything changed in an instant.

She was watching from the stands, cheering as usual, when she saw him go down. It was a rough play, and in a split second, Adam crashed to the ice, clutching his leg. Her heart stopped, a cold fear gripping her as she watched him wince in pain, his teammates gathering around him. The medical staff rushed onto the ice, helping him up, but the look on his face told her everything she needed to know—it wasn’t just a bruise or a scrape. Something was wrong.

After what felt like an eternity, they helped him off the ice, and she could see the strain in his face as he tried to put weight on his leg. Her stomach twisted as she rushed down to meet him, her mind racing with worry.

When she reached the locker room, she found him sitting on the bench, an ice pack pressed to his knee, his face pale. He looked up when he saw her, offering a weak smile, but she could see the frustration and fear in his eyes.

“Adam,” she whispered, rushing to his side. “Are you okay?”

He shrugged, letting out a bitter laugh. “Not really. Doc says it’s a sprain, maybe worse. They’re running more tests tomorrow.”

She sat beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Adam. You’re going to get through this.”

He nodded, but she could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hands clenched into fists as he struggled to hold back his frustration. “I just… I can’t believe this happened. I’ve been so careful, doing everything right, and now this? Right in the middle of the season?”

She reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “Hey, don’t think like that. This is just a setback, okay? You’re going to heal, and you’ll come back stronger. You’ve overcome so much already.”

He looked at her, his eyes softening as he took a deep breath. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

They sat there for a while, her hand in his, both of them absorbing the reality of the situation. She could feel his vulnerability, the weight of his disappointment and fear, and it broke her heart to see him like this. But she was determined to be there for him, to support him through every step of his recovery.

The following days were a blur of doctors’ appointments, physical therapy sessions, and long, quiet evenings in their apartment. Adam was restless, the injury weighing heavily on him, and she could see how much it affected him. He tried to keep his spirits up, but there were moments when the frustration and doubt would creep in, clouding his usually optimistic outlook.

One evening, she found him sitting on the couch, staring at the floor, his shoulders slumped. She walked over, wrapping her arms around him from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“What’s on your mind?” she asked gently, her voice soft.

He let out a heavy sigh, leaning back into her embrace. “I just feel…helpless. Everyone’s out there, giving it their all, and here I am, stuck on the sidelines, watching them. I don’t know how to just sit and wait.”

She pressed a kiss to his cheek, her arms tightening around him. “Adam, you’re not alone in this. You have the whole team behind you, and you have me. We’ll get through this, one day at a time.”

He turned to look at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and sadness. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

She shook her head, cupping his face in her hands. “You do. You deserve all the love and support in the world. And I’m not going anywhere.”

He pulled her into a kiss, his hands gentle yet full of need, as if grounding himself in the comfort of her presence. She could feel the weight of his emotions, the vulnerability he rarely showed, and she held him close, offering all the reassurance she could.

That night, as they lay in bed, she could feel his tension, the worry that gnawed at him even as he tried to rest. She reached over, tracing light patterns along his arm, her fingers gentle and soothing.

“Adam,” she whispered, her voice barely audible in the darkness.

He turned to face her, his expression softening as he looked at her. “Yeah?”

She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. “I know this is hard, and I know it’s frustrating. But I need you to know that this doesn’t change anything—not who you are, not what you mean to me. You’re still the same person, still the man I fell in love with.”

He reached for her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers. “I needed to hear that,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Sometimes I feel like…like I’m letting everyone down.”

She shook her head, her gaze fierce. “You’re not letting anyone down. You’re human, Adam. You’re allowed to have setbacks, to feel frustrated. But you’re also strong, and you’re going to get through this. And I’ll be here every step of the way.”

He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her as he buried his face in her hair. They lay together in the quiet darkness, their breaths mingling as he let go of the fears he had been holding onto, surrendering to the comfort of her presence.

As the days turned into weeks, they settled into a new routine, one built around his recovery. She accompanied him to his physical therapy sessions, offering words of encouragement and holding his hand when the exercises became challenging. She could see the determination in his eyes, the way he pushed himself even when it was difficult, and it filled her with pride.

One afternoon, as they returned from a therapy session, he looked over at her, a small smile on his face. “You know, I couldn’t do this without you,” he said, his voice filled with gratitude. “You make it all a little easier.”

She smiled, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “I’ll always be here, Adam. We’re in this together.”

They spent the evening cuddled up on the couch, watching movies and sharing quiet moments of laughter. The injury, though difficult, had brought them closer in ways they hadn’t expected, revealing a strength in their relationship that went beyond the highs and lows of his career.

One night, after weeks of hard work and slow progress, Adam managed to walk unaided, taking a few steady steps across the room. She watched, her heart swelling with pride as he grinned at her, his eyes bright with excitement.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice filled with joy. “I’m getting there.”

She rushed over, wrapping her arms around him, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You’ve come so far.”

They shared a long, lingering kiss, their hands exploring each other as if rediscovering the love they had nurtured through the challenges of his recovery. That night, they moved together with a renewed sense of passion, each touch filled with gratitude, each kiss a reminder of the strength of their love. They lay together afterward, wrapped in each other’s arms, a quiet peace settling over them.

As they drifted into sleep, she felt a renewed sense of hope, a quiet certainty that, no matter what challenges they faced, they would always find their way back to each other.

When Adam was finally cleared to return to the ice, he was filled with a mixture of excitement and nerves. She watched from the stands, her heart pounding as he stepped onto the rink, his movements tentative at first but growing more confident with each stride.

As he skated, he looked up at her, offering a small, reassuring smile. She waved, her heart swelling with pride as she saw him back in his element, a part of the team once again.

After practice, he rushed up to her, pulling her into a tight embrace. “I did it,” he whispered, his voice filled with relief and joy. “I’m back.”

She hugged him tightly, her voice filled with pride. “I never doubted you, Adam. Not for a second.”

They shared a kiss, the world around them fading as they held each other, their love a constant in the whirlwind of his career. They had faced the challenge together, and they had come out stronger, their bond deeper than ever before.

That evening, as they returned home, they sat on the balcony, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance. Adam took her hand, his fingers tracing gentle patterns along her skin.

“Thank you for being there for me,” he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

She smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’m the lucky one, Adam.”

They sat together in comfortable silence, their hearts full of love and hope for the future. As they watched the stars, they knew that, no matter what lay ahead, they would face it together, their love a constant light in the journey they had chosen to walk side by side.

Columbus, Ohio – Spring 2025

The season had been a wild success, both for the team and for Adam personally. With each game, he’d made his mark, proving himself not only as a strong player but as a dependable teammate and leader. But tonight was something extra special: Adam had reached a major career milestone—his 100th NHL goal.

Y/N watched from the stands, her heart racing as she saw the puck soar into the net, the entire arena erupting in cheers. She jumped up, clapping and cheering along with the crowd, a wave of pride swelling inside her. She caught his eye from across the rink as he skated back toward the bench, and he pointed up at her, a private little gesture that made her heart skip.

When the game ended, the crowd was still buzzing with excitement, chanting his name as he made his way off the ice. Y/N hurried down to the locker room, her cheeks flushed, anticipation bubbling up inside her as she waited to congratulate him.

The locker room was a whirlwind of laughter and celebration, his teammates congratulating him and slapping him on the back. When he finally spotted her waiting by the door, he broke into a grin, jogging over to pull her into his arms.

“Adam, I’m so proud of you!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his neck. “One hundred goals—you did it!”

He laughed, his eyes shining with excitement as he lifted her off the ground in a tight hug. “We did it,” he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

They shared a quick, private kiss, his hands lingering at her waist as if he didn’t want to let go. She could feel the pride radiating from him, a joy she knew he’d worked so hard for, and it made her heart swell with love.

“Alright, lovebirds!” one of his teammates called out, laughing as he tossed a towel in their direction. “Save some of that energy for the party!”

Adam rolled his eyes, chuckling as he turned back to her. “Ready to celebrate?”

She nodded, a smile spreading across her face. “With you? Always.”

Later that night, the team threw a celebration in honor of Adam’s milestone. The restaurant was filled with laughter and music, everyone sharing stories and toasting to his success. She stayed close by his side, watching him light up as his friends and teammates congratulated him. There was a certain ease to him tonight, a glow that only came from the fulfillment of a dream realized.

At one point, his coach raised a glass, calling for everyone’s attention. “Here’s to Adam,” he began, his voice filled with pride. “A hundred goals is no small feat, but what makes this guy truly remarkable is his heart and dedication. He’s a role model on and off the ice, and we’re proud to call him one of our own. To Adam!”

The crowd erupted in cheers, and Adam looked over at her, his face a mix of pride and gratitude. She raised her glass to him, giving him a warm smile as she mouthed, “To you.”

After a while, they slipped outside, finding a quiet spot away from the crowd. The night was cool, a gentle breeze rustling the trees as they stood beneath the stars. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

“I still can’t believe it,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe. “A hundred goals. Feels like a dream.”

She leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. “It’s no dream. You worked hard for this, Adam. You deserve every bit of it.”

He looked down at her, his eyes filled with a quiet intensity. “I wouldn’t be here without you, Y/N. You’ve been my rock through everything—the highs, the lows, the injuries… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, her heart swelling with love. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” she whispered, smiling through the emotion.

They shared a long, tender kiss under the stars, a private celebration of everything they had accomplished together. In that moment, she knew that, no matter where life took them, they would always have each other.

After the party, they returned home, both of them still riding the high of the evening. As soon as they stepped inside, he pulled her into his arms, his hands resting at her waist as he looked down at her.

“Dance with me,” he murmured, his voice soft.

She laughed, her cheeks flushing. “Adam, there’s no music.”

He shrugged, a playful grin on his face. “We don’t need music.”

He led her in a slow dance around the living room, their movements unhurried and gentle. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as they swayed together. It was a quiet, intimate moment, a perfect end to a night they would remember forever.

As they danced, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his voice filled with sincerity. “Thank you for believing in me, for standing by me through everything.”

She looked up at him, her heart overflowing with love. “Always, Adam. I’m with you every step of the way.”

They continued to dance, the world around them fading away, until they finally settled onto the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms. They spent the night talking about their dreams, sharing their hopes for the future, the love between them stronger than ever.

The following morning, they sat together on the balcony, sharing a quiet breakfast as the sun rose over the city. She looked over at him, feeling a sense of contentment she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“So, what’s next for us?” she asked softly, reaching for his hand.

He looked thoughtful, a small smile playing on his lips. “Well, I know I don’t want to do any of it without you. Whatever the future holds, you’re my number one.”

She smiled, feeling her heart skip a beat. “Do you ever think about…you know, settling down? Maybe a place of our own? A family?”

He took a deep breath, his eyes shining with hope. “All the time. I want all of that with you, Y/N. A home, a family—everything.”

They shared a long, lingering kiss, both of them feeling the weight of their shared dreams. The future felt open, a promise of everything they had worked for, and she knew that, whatever came next, they would face it together.

That evening, as the sun set, they decided to celebrate privately, sharing a bottle of wine on their balcony as the city lights began to twinkle. Adam poured them each a glass, raising his in a toast.

“To us,” he said, his eyes filled with love. “To everything we’ve built, everything we’ve overcome, and everything we’re going to create together.”

She smiled, clinking her glass with his. “To us.”

They sipped their wine, wrapped in each other’s arms, feeling a sense of peace and fulfillment that only came from being truly loved. In that quiet moment, they both knew that, no matter where life took them, they had found something lasting and real—a love that would carry them through every victory, every setback, and every dream they held for the future.

As they looked out over the city, she rested her head on his shoulder, her heart full of love and gratitude. They were each other’s home, each other’s hope, and she knew that, no matter what, they would always find their way back to each other.

And as the stars began to appear in the night sky, they shared one last kiss, a quiet promise of everything they would share in the years to come.

#adam fantilli #adam fanitlli x reader #nhl imagine #hockey imagines #my writing #columbus blue jackets #hockey #nhl

36 notes · View notes

herefortarlos · 2 days ago

Text

Just some takeaways from these interviews that feature Ronen, Gina and Brianna!

Enzo will be back in episode 5x08! "We'll probably have to see Enzo in some orange colors, a jumpsuit perhaps because he's in big trouble right now."

Ronen gushing over how cute Jonah was when he says, "Hi, big brother."

Could this be leading to TK and Carlos taking in Jonah? And Ronen's deflecting response of, "I have no idea, that would just, I don't know, I just, I just work here." And looking away from the camera.

Ronen talking about the karaoke scene and having "no idea it was going to be Freddie Mercury, you know one of the most incredible singers of all time. Really talk about under pressure because of course they gave me the Freddie parts. So I was a little nervous because it's one thing to sing karaoke in front of people but this is gonna be watched by millions of people, so I hope I did a good job, and to sing with Henry and then Rob was so iconic... because it's TK and his two dads and how important they both are to him and just crucial to who TK has become as a man...." "They picked Under Pressure for us for a reason, I think the lyrics are very telling."

Talking about the Tarlos photos! "That's gonna be a recurring gif for the rest of time for sure! They knew what they were doing with that one."

Gina does not think Tommy would have stepped away if she had not been hurt like that for her to realize she had to take care of herself.

Brianna and Gina talk about filming the hospital scene! Tommy having to come to terms with leaving a job that means the world to her. "It had so little to do with trusting who I'm going to pass the torch along to and so much more to do with the trust and belief in the woman that's in front of me. And so it was bittersweet...but I know you've (Nancy) got this!"

Ronen saying, "Tommy is Nancy and TK's mama bird. Especially after 5x05." "That scene at the end of 5x07 is so beautifully heart breaking between Gina and Brianna, I just rewatched it again and just started crying on my own, and oh my god, when she asks her to become the temporary Captain..." "But that leads to some really fun stuff for Brianna and I. It's like the kids get to go out on their own now, so you'll see a lot of paramedic calls with just us, which is really fun. But Brianna really holds it down as Captain and we'll see what that leads to Tommy if she can come back or not. There's a lot of intense stuff for Tommy."

Brianna saying, "It's gonna be just TN." "Ronen and I had a lot of fun with the TN dynamic. The kids are taking the car!"

Ronen saying, "TK and Nancy are so close, especially this season, and Brianna and I got really close this season, and I just love her so much and I think you start to see that when we go out on the calls ourselves, and they're gonna be silly little kids, but still professional and so good at what they do and I think that dynamic is going to be really fun to see." "I'm so excited for people to see Brianna really shine and get her moment especially as Paramedic Captain, that's such a huge honor."

Gina talking about the story line Rashad wrote for Tommy this season, "Sometimes it's triumphant and sometimes you don't want to be there... If you're invested in Tommy, it's gonna hurt."

Ronen talking about Carlos' father's murder. "Carlos starts making more progress in the case...and then there's gonna be a few other questions that are going to be brought up that are really going to challenge TK and Carlos."

"Some of the questions are, "Are we ready to take the next step in our relationship?"

"TK fears for his husband's life because Carlos is getting involved with some really bad people, and I think TK vividly remembers seeing his husband almost die when he was kidnapped and I think that's probably an image that plays in his head and I think that's something he never wants to see again. His actions are coming from caring and fear..."

Ronen says TK has at least one scene with Campbell.

Ronen was asked about Judd drinking at his party and if TK will notice with his addiction, and Ronen said, "That leads to an incredible scene between Judd and TK. I think it opens the door for Jim to really shine and another side of Judd we may not have known. It's also just beautiful because Jim in real life is sober and it's a beautiful way for Jim to put his own experiences into that character."

#911 lone star #ronen rubinstein #gina torres #brianna baker #911 lone star spoilers #Another great set of interviews!#Don't @ me for failed spelling 🤣

44 notes · View notes

strnilolover · 11 hours ago

Note

Prince!Matt needing to go make trades with a foreign country but "Darling" can't go along on this one, she is kind of afraid of his parents and they have a million other maids to do their stuff so she's kind of just left alone in the big palace but lingers in Matt's room mostly. And when he comes home she's like crying as she had been frequently without knowing how he was doing and she admits she had no idea what to do without him and it made her realize she was pretty dependent on him with this kind of job and without her man around. :)

In the days leading up to his departure, there was a quiet tension that neither of them spoke about, but both could feel. Prince Matt tried to reassure darling with easy smiles and casual words, promising he wouldn’t be gone long. But each time they shared a glance, she could feel the weight of what it meant for him to leave her behind, even if it was just for a short time.

Normally darling went along with matt on his outings and such — but this time he wanted her to stay behind. Telling her he didn’t want her to get hurt or for something bad to happen since it was a place he hardly knew himself. He just wanted to keep her safe.

“You’ll be alright, won’t you?” Matt asked one evening, his tone light, but his eyes searched darlings face as they stood in the quiet of his bedroom. “The palace will be the same without me… just quieter.” he said, admitting the obvious.

Darling managed a soft smile, nodding. “Of course, Matt,” she replied, her voice steady. “It’s just… i don’t know — i’ve always gone with you.” she whispered, her fingers fiddling with the apron on her dress.

He gave a gentle chuckle, reaching out to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I’ll be back before you know it,” he murmured. “And I’ll bring you something from the trip. Something to remind you that I thought of you the whole time.”

Her heart fluttered, but she tried to keep her emotions in check. She didn’t want him to feel guilty, didn’t want to let him see just how much she was already dreading his absence. So, instead, she focused on the little things — helping him pack, making sure he had everything he needed, and sharing stolen moments when no one else was around.

When the day had finally came, she helped him prepare one last time, smoothing his coat and avoiding his gaze as her fingers lingered just a bit longer than they should have. “Safe travels, Matt,” she whispered, her voice barely holding steady. “I’ll… keep things in order here until you’re back.” she could feel her chest tightening just a little. Why did it hurt?

His hand found hers, squeezing gently as he smiled down at her. “I’ll miss you,” he said quietly, and before she could reply, he turned and left, leaving her standing there with a hollow ache settling in her chest.

The first night he was gone, darling tried to keep busy, falling into her usual routine with a determination she hoped would distract her from the silence. But with each passing day, the palace felt larger, colder. She moved through the halls like a ghost, fulfilling duties that seemed meaningless without Matt there. The other maids offered polite nods, and his parents rarely spared her a glance, making her feel even more out of place.

She hadn’t realized just how alive matt made the palace feel — just how cold it was without him around. It was like everyone just…somehow lost their life.

She ended up spending her evenings in his bedroom, lingering in the familiar warmth of his space. She would sit by his desk, her fingers grazing the books he’d left behind, or lay on his bed, breathing in the faint scent of him that clung to the pillows. At first, she told herself it was only to make sure his room stayed tidy, but as the nights wore on, she knew it was more than that. She missed him — his smile, his gentle touch, his quiet presence that made the palace feel like home.

By the end of the first week, darling slipped into the habit of staying there most nights, curled up beneath his blankets, seeking comfort in the small reminders of him. The emptiness without him was almost too much to bear, and lying in his bed felt like the only way to keep the loneliness at bay. She would fall asleep surrounded by his things, imagining he was still there, whispering quiet reassurances to her in the dark.

She knew it was risky of her to do — sleeping in the princes bed. She could get caught at any moment, and who knows how much she’d be punished for it. But, the consequences didn’t bother her — she just wanted him home.

One morning, as the light crept through the window, she stirred, blinking sleepily as she stretched. It took her a moment to realize she wasn’t alone, and when she looked up, her heart leapt to find Matt standing at the edge of the bed, watching her with a soft smile.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice warm and laced with amusement. “You look comfortable.” he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as his arms crossed against his chest.

Her cheeks flushed, and she sat up abruptly, pulling the blanket around herself in embarrassment. “I… I didn’t realize you were back, Matt,” she stammered, her voice catching in her throat. “I… I shouldn’t have—”

He held up a hand, stepping closer and settling onto the edge of the bed beside her. “Please, don’t apologize,” he said softly. “Honestly, I think this is the nicest sight I’ve come home to in a long time. and i think it’s cute you decided to sleep in my bed.”

She felt her heart pounding as she looked at him, words failing her. He was here — finally here, after days of wondering and worrying — and now that he was back, the weight of all the emotions she’d been holding in crashed over her.

“I… missed you,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. She hadn’t meant to say it, but now that he was here, all the longing and loneliness spilled out. “I missed you so much, Matt. I didn’t know what to do without you.”

His expression softened, and he reached out, gently brushing a thumb over her cheek, wiping away a tear she hadn’t realized had fallen. “I missed you too darling,” he murmured, his voice filled with warmth. “More than I can say.”

She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face against his shoulder, feeling the familiar, grounding warmth of him that she’d craved so desperately. He held her tightly, his hand running soothingly up and down her back as he whispered, “I’m sorry for leaving you alone. If I’d known…”

She shook her head, pulling back just enough to look up at him, her eyes shining. “It’s not your fault. I just… didn’t realize how much I had grown to love being around you.”

He cupped her face, his gaze steady, reassuring. “I’m here now,” he said softly. “And I promise, you won’t be left wondering next time. I’ll make sure you know exactly where I am, even if I can’t be right here.” His thumb brushed over her cheek again, his touch gentle, grounding. “I promise next time you can come with.”

Her breath caught. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “For coming back to me.”

He smiled and leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead, his lips warm against her skin, a silent promise of his devotion. “Always,” he murmured. “I’ll always come back to you.” he said, and she knew he meant it,

When he pulled away, he smiled once more. “I promised i’d bring you something back, didn’t i?” he said, gently reaching behind him and grabbing a box. Darlings eyes widened, sniffling as she wiped her face. “You…you didn’t have to matt.”

Matt shook his head, “I wanted to darling.” was all he said before handing the box to her, urging her to open it. And she did, gasping softly as she saw a beautiful stuffed cat and a bracelet. When she took the bracelet out, matt gently grabbed it from her — clipping it onto her wrist.

Taking her hand, he pressed a soft kiss to it — his thumb smoothing over her knuckles as he leaned away. “Now you’ll always have something with you to remind yourself that i’m here — that i’ll always come back to you.”

a/n : i apologize if this makes no sense. i just got off of work and am really tired, but i tried to write this the best i could. love y’all 😭🩵

26 notes · View notes

quojae · 2 days ago

Text

- Where your roommates male bsf changes your life forever -

f!reader x sunghoon - college au - kissing - living together - mutual feelings - fluff

a/n: hello loves 𖹭 i really hope you enjoy this cute and fluffy short story (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

wc 7.2k

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

starting college will always be nerve racking. of course you look forward to it - its a step into a brand new world, who wouldn't be excited. yet at the same time, leaving behind everything you've known to move in with a stranger, its a strange feeling to describe. for some extroverts its thrilling, and for some introverts its downright terrifying. you aren't quite sure how to feel about it. the tangle of nerves in your stomach has yet to unwind itself, so you sit on your new bed, in your tiny dorm room, staring at a blank wall unsure what to do next. your life that you managed to pack into four boxes is all laid out in front of you. clothes, stationary, that one blanket you've had for as long as you remember, all in front of you waiting to be placed in its new spot in this unfamiliar room. the clunk of a door opening startles you out of your thoughts. you jump a little, instinctively straightening up on your bed as the door creaks open. in the doorway stands a figure, the silhouette of someone about your age, holding a few bags, a backpack slung over one shoulder. they look just as unsure as you feel, glancing around the room with a mixture of curiosity and hesitation.

"uh... hey," they say, their voice sounding friendly, but there's a hint of nervousness. "i guess this is my room…"

the air between you both feels awkward at first - like neither of you knows quite how to break the ice.

you both probably have a million thoughts running through your heads, each of you wondering what this new chapter is going to bring. but here you are, in the same boat, just two strangers trying to figure out how to make this work.

you clear your throat, “im… y/n, it’s nice to meet you.”

the girl standing in the doorway smiles and steps further into the dorm, dragging a large suitcase behind her, “wonyoung, jang wonyoung,” her voice is sweet, making you feel instantly more comfortable.

‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋ ‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋

after the initial awkwardness things were simple, easy. despite the fact your new roommate, wonyoung looked quite literally like a fairy princess, she was approachable and friendly and you easily grew close. things were surprisingly simple. the early days were full of small talk, the nerves slowly settled as the days passed, and you found yourself laughing more than you thought you would.

wonyoung was, as your first impression suggested, impossibly pretty - like someone who belonged in a fairy tale. Her hair was always perfectly styled, and she had this effortless grace about her that made you feel like you were in the presence of royalty. But for all her beauty, she was so fun to be around, charming, funny, and completely approachable. it didn't take long to realize that behind the porcelain skin and delicate features, there was a real person - someone warm, and wonderful. after meeting her friends you fit in immediately, they were so welcoming to you it was like finding another family. your social circle expanded daily as she introduced you to new people. it was fun, it was what college was supposed to be and you were enjoying every minute.

college was fun of course, but college was also a lot of work. You would often find yourself sitting at your small desk that was crammed into a corner of the room writing essays into the late hours of the night. sometimes wonyoung would stay up with you, also writing an essay, other times she would just chat with you, simple conversations to help make work feel a bit less like work. it was one of these nights, you were writing a paper, wonyoung was lounging on her bed, in frilly pink pajamas, as usual. yet tonight she was a bit distracted, still chatting with you, but sometimes there would be an awkward break in conversation as she thought deeply about how to respond to a text she had gotten.

after rushing through the conclusion of your paper and throwing on pajamas, ready to collapse and fall asleep for the next few hours until your painfully early 9am class you realized wonyoung was still awake, still laying on her bed, staring at her phone.

"what's up?" you ask, your voice tentative.

she hesitates for a moment before responding, her tone a little strained. "Oh, sorry. i'm just having a bit of an argument with my mom."

you sit up a little, concern rising. "well, what's going on? maybe i can help."

"the thing is," she begins, her voice quiet, "one of my childhood friends is coming to campus for a seminar or something - it's not a big deal - and my mom wants him to stay with us so he doesn't have to pay for a hotel." she finishes speaking and quickly types a response to a text, her brows furrowing as she does.

“that doesn’t seem like a big deal,” you respond, “i wouldn't mind”

She lets out a sigh “i wouldn't mind either, the real problem is my friend who she wants to stay with us, is a guy, and knowing his personality im afraid he would make you uncomfortable.”

your mind processes that for a moment before responding, “well, he is your friend, i'm sure it won't be too bad, why not let him stay with us for a bit, he can sleep on our couch.”

wonyoung pauses her furious typing to look at you with a worried expression “are you sure?”

you smile “yeah, why not!”

‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋ ‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋

a month had passed since that late-night conversation with wonyoung, and it had almost slipped from your mind entirely - until a knock at your door startled you out of your thoughts. you sighed and set down your textbook, walked over to the door, expecting a delivery or a neighbor needing something, but when you opened the door, you froze.

a man stood there, holding a duffel bag. he wasn’t someone you recognized, but that wasn’t what left you speechless. it was his appearance, the sheer perfection of it, that took your breath away. his hair was perfectly styled, framing his sharp jawline and angular features in a way that seemed too flawless to be real. His thick brows arched perfectly above his eyes, which held a sharp, almost intense gaze. the contrast between his dark hair and pale skin made him look like something out of a fashion magazine, or maybe a dream.

you stood there for a moment, completely frozen, unable to process anything other than the fact that this was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. his presence seemed to fill the cramped hallway, his features so striking it almost felt like you were staring at a sculpture.

and then it hit you - how disheveled you must look standing in front of him. you were wearing an old graphic tee, the one you’d picked up from a random bin in a clearance section years ago, paired with old shorts you used to use for painting, that you found at the back of your closet, because you didn’t feel like putting any effort into your appearance, you were supposed to be alone, at home it shouldnt have mattered. your hair, which you hadn’t bothered to style, hung messily around your face, and you hadn’t even washed your face that morning. the contrast between the way he looked and the way you felt was almost too much to bear.

for a few seconds, there was nothing but awkward silence as you stared at him, trying - and failing - to hide the sudden wave of self-consciousness. you could feel heat rising in your cheeks. in that moment, you wished you were somewhere else, anywhere but here.

finally, you managed to find your voice, stumbling over your words. “hi there… i think you have the wrong room.”

he just stood there, like a model, with his duffel bag hanging by his side. then, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke, his voice smooth, “you’re wonyoung’s roommate, right?” His tone was casual, but there was an edge to it that made you pause.

"wonyoungs roommate?" you repeated, still feeling disoriented. How did he know wonyoung? you racked your brain, trying to make a connection. had Wonyoung mentioned someone like this to you? but nothing clicked.

you nodded, your voice shaky as you confirmed, “yes…” you glanced at him again, unsure what to make of this strange encounter. His presence was both overwhelming and oddly comforting, as though you were in the presence of someone who didn’t belong in the same space as you—but at the same time, something about him felt… familiar.

the man seemed to take in your reaction with a slight, almost amused smile, as if he could read the confusion on your face. Without saying another word, he shifted the duffel bag on his shoulder, waiting for you to respond or make sense of the situation.

after realizing you really had no idea what was going on he decided to save you by finally saying “im her friend, im staying with you for a few days, she was supposed to mention it to you.”

at that moment you remembered your conversation with wonyoung from a month ago, “oh, right, yeah, she mentioned you…. please come in” you smiled, to be welcoming, but also because you were happy you managed to form a complete sentence without stuttering. you rarely stutter, but for some reason just being around this man made your brain get all jumbled up.

he stepped in and put his duffel on the small sofa that was shoved against a wall, “im sunghoon park by the way,” he paused, “figure we should introduce ourselves considering we will be living together for a bit.”

you smile, “im y/n, its nice to meet you sunghoon.”

‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋ ‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋

later that night, wonyoung insisted on taking you and sunghoon out to dinner. with a bright smile, she told you both that she wanted her two closest friends to get along, and that this dinner would be the perfect opportunity for that. you agreed, though part of you was still a little unsure. it wasn’t that you didn’t want to get along with sunghoon, it was just you hadn't had any interaction with him after the initial encounter that morning, and you were still embarrassed over how you had presented yourself.

wonyoung led the way to a small, unassuming family restaurant tucked away on a quiet street. The place was a little hidden gem - one of those hole-in-the-wall spots where the food was always good, but the decor was simple. the moment you walked in, the warmth of the place, along with the smell of freshly made food, made you feel comfortable. You had been to places like this before, but this one felt special in its own way. the atmosphere was cozy, with wooden tables and the faint hum of conversation around you.

the food came out quickly, and you couldn’t help but notice how much wonyoung seemed to enjoy every bite. she was talkative as always, offering you both recommendations, and even playfully teasing sunghoon when he hesitated over what to order. sunghoon rolled his eyes but smiled, it was obvious that this was a common interaction between the two of them. there was a comfort in the way they interacted, an ease that made it clear they had known each other for a long time. the way Sunghoon would tease wonyoung about anything and everything - whether it was her ordering too much food or her inability to sit still during a movie - always seemed to make her laugh, and she’d respond with exaggerated reactions, her eyes widening and hands gesturing dramatically as though hed just committed the most heinous of crimes. you couldn't help but smile as you watched them.

as the evening wore on, you found yourself feeling glad wonyoung had invited you to this night out, appreciating the warmth of the night and the way both wonyoung and sunghoon made sure you felt included. even though sunghoon and wonyoung were so close sunghoon still made an effort to talk to you and be kind, he truly was like a prince charming, he was kind, a bit awkward and so fun to talk to. despite the fact you were having such a fun time, there was an odd tightness in your chest that you couldn’t quite explain. every time wonyoung and sunghoon would get close - whether it was during one of their teasing exchanges or when they laughed about something that only the two of them understood - it was like a knot was slowly forming in the pit of your stomach. you didn’t have a reason to feel that way, but every time they’d share a private joke or lean in to whisper something to each other, the feeling only seemed to grow stronger.

the more you observed them, the more you noticed just how comfortable they were with each other, how they seemed to have this unspoken understanding that made them look like they had their own little world. you didn’t want to be the third wheel. you wanted to be part of the group, part of the laughter and lighthearted teasing. and yet, the longer you sat there, the more aware you became of the small, quiet ache inside you.

you pushed the thought away as you took a sip of your drink, trying to focus on the conversation and join in, but no matter how hard you tried, that tightness in your chest wouldn’t fade. something about the way they interacted—so effortlessly, so naturally—stirred something inside you. as the evening came to a close, and the three of you made your way out of the restaurant, wonyoung turned to you, clearly happy that the night had gone so well.

“i’m glad you two got along!” she exclaimed, her eyes bright a smile stretching across her face. “See? i told you it wouldn’t be awkward.”

you smiled back, truly happy with how the night went.

‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋ ‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋

the rest of the week passed in a blur, marked by the usual mix of classes, assignments, and the general hustle of daily life. Nothing particularly exciting happened, but it wasn’t a bad week - it just felt... routine. you and sunghoon barely crossed paths, which wasn’t unusual. you were both busy with your own responsibilities, and with the way your schedules lined up, there were days when you didn’t even see him at all. you found yourself buried in textbooks and lecture notes, trying to keep up with assignments, while sunghoon was often caught up with his own seminar work or running errands. it was easy to slip into the regular rhythm of solo study sessions and late nights hunched over your desk despite the new presence in your dorm. Still, there were moments - small, fleeting moments - that made everything feel a little more... charged.

there was the time when you were sitting in the kitchen, focused on an assignment, when sunghoon had come in to grab a snack. you hadn’t even noticed him at first, too wrapped up in the words on your screen, but when you glanced up, he was standing there, looking at you with that quiet smile of his.

“do you need help with that?” he’d asked, his voice soft and casual, the kind of tone that seemed to put you at ease instantly. There was something comforting about the way he spoke, like his words wrapped around you in a way that felt effortless but sincere.

then there was the time you were both sitting side by side on the couch, flipping through TV channels, both of you tired and looking for a distraction after a long day. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but when his hand brushed against yours as he reached for the remote, you felt a jolt of warmth rush through you. you hadn’t meant to linger, hadn’t meant to let the moment stretch out, but you couldn’t help it. your heart fluttered in your chest, and for a second, you wondered if he’d felt it too.

sunghoon never said anything, he just went about his business, as if the casual touch meant nothing at all, and you did your best to pretend it didn’t either. yet, even after he’d moved his hand away, the feeling lingered, and you found yourself unable to focus on the TV or the conversation. it was like your pulse was a little faster, a little more alive.

then there were those small, unspoken interactions - the moments when you’d both find yourselves in the same room, but you didn’t need to fill the space with words. Whether it was passing each other in the hallway or sitting at the kitchen table eating dinner, there was a quiet connection that seemed to hang in the air, just under the surface. every now and then, you’d glance up to find him already watching you, your eyes meeting, and in that fraction of a second, something unspoken passing between you.

you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but it was like a quiet tension that seemed to weave itself into these tiny, everyday moments, and it wasn’t just the brush of hands or the small gestures - it was the way Sunghoon spoke to you, the tone of his voice, the slight curve of his lips when he said something sarcastic or playful. there was an effortless kindness in the way he treated you, a gentleness that you didn’t see in everyone. it wasn’t overwhelming, but it was enough to make you feel... seen, in a way that felt different from what you were used to.

the thing was, you weren’t sure if you were reading too much into it. it was easy to get caught up in the little things, the glances, the words, and let your mind wander into places it shouldn’t. even so, you couldn’t help it. every time he spoke to you in that calm, reassuring tone, or when his presence filled the space beside you, your heart would flutter - sometimes so quietly that you’d almost wonder if you imagined it, but other times with enough force that it made it impossible to ignore.

you knew it was a silly thing to feel—after all, you were just temporary housemates, maybe friends, but there was something about Sunghoon that made everything feel... different. even in the quiet moments, the ones where nothing particularly noteworthy happened, your chest would tighten in a way that was unfamiliar. his kindness, his subtle presence, the way he made you feel like you mattered - it all had an effect on you that you weren’t sure how to handle.

by the end of the week, you couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was shifting, that these small, seemingly insignificant moments were adding up to something more, what that was, you weren’t sure. for now, you pushed those thoughts aside, telling yourself that you were just overthinking it. after all, sunghoon was just being himself - kind, polite, and friendly, like he always was.

‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋ ‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋

"sunghoon is leaving in a few days, you know," wonyoung remarked casually one afternoon.

that simple statement immediately shattered your focus. your mind went blank, your heart sinking like a stone in your chest. you’d known this was coming, of course. it wasn't like he had moved in permanently - it was always just a temporary arrangement from the start. yet hearing it out loud, made something tight and uncomfortable coil in your stomach. you weren't sure what this feeling was, but it was definitely unsettling.

“oh, really?” you finally managed to say, trying to sound casual even though your pulse had quickened. "So his seminar is over now?"

wonyoung nodded, but there was a knowing glint in her eyes. A look that made you feel like she was holding some secret. she didn’t say anything for a second, just giving you a soft, almost teasing smile.

"yeah, and because he's leaving in a bit... if you're going to say anything, you better do it soon."

her words hit you like a cold splash of water, and you froze, a little caught off guard. "what would i say?" you asked, confused. your mind was trying to catch up, but you were too tangled in the unexpected wave of emotions that had come up at the mention of sunghoon leaving.

wonyoung’s smile widened, and she leaned in a little, lowering her voice in that familiar playful way of hers, the one that made her seem both impossibly wise and annoyingly knowing at the same time. "well, it’s not like you two are subtle about it. there’s clearly something going on between you two. there’s like this... electricity that keeps zapping between you guys."

she giggled lightly, clearly amused by your reaction, but you were too stunned to laugh with her. instead, your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. the words hit you harder than you expected. your mind raced. so it wasn't just you. wonyoung had felt it too. The way things seemed to shift between you and sunghoon whenever you were in the same room, the strange moments when you'd catch each other’s gaze and feel that spark of something you couldn’t name. it wasn’t like you’d been outright flirtatious - at least, you didn’t think you had - but it seemed like it had been more obvious than you’d realized.

“w-wait, what?” you stammered, feeling your heart race. You tried to compose yourself, but it was impossible. “you think there’s something going on between us?” you couldn’t quite suppress the nervous laugh that followed, as if somehow distancing yourself from the weight of what she was saying.

wonyoung raised an eyebrow and gave you a mischievous smile, "oh, don’t play dumb. it’s pretty obvious, you know. the way he talks to you, the way he looks at you - even the way you two sit next to each other. it’s like there’s this... i don’t know, magnetic pull? and i can feel it in the air when you two are together."

her words hung in the air, lingering, and your mind was swimming. did sunghoon feel it too? that same strange energy that seemed to buzz when you were around him? you had always thought it was just your mind playing tricks, creating tension where there was none, but hearing wonyoung so casually acknowledge it made you question everything. it was almost like she’d peeled back the layers of your feelings and laid it all out in front of you, leaving you exposed in a way you hadn’t expected.

your stomach did a flip as you tried to make sense of everything. sunghoon was leaving soon and wonyoung was giving you a chance to do something, as if you had any idea what to do with the feelings swirling inside you. you had often laid in your bed wondering what exactly was going on, but now that wonyoung laid it out for you like this, you knew. you knew you were in love with sunghoon, hearing that he was leaving made your heart sink and now all you wanted was to run to him and beg him not to leave, because despite the fact you hadn't spent much time together, you became dependent on sunghoon, used to him, and you wanted him to stay.

you swallowed hard, looking down at your hands as you tried to hide your growing embarrassment. "i... i don’t know," you muttered, more to yourself than to her. "… i don’t know if it even matters, right? i mean, no matter what happens between us he still leaves," you could feel the heat rising in your face, and you silently cursed yourself for how obvious your feelings were.

wonyoung’s expression softened just a little, her tone turning more understanding. "i get it," she said gently. "it’s not exactly easy to spill your heart out to someone. i can’t tell you what to do, but i think if you feel something, maybe you should at least say it before he leaves, because once he's gone, it'll be harder to figure out what you might’ve missed out on, you know?"

she didn’t push any further, your mind was reeling, and you could feel the uncertainty clouding your thoughts. you weren’t sure what was happening between you and sunghoon—how deep it went, or what it even meant - but the pressure of this conversation, combined with the reality that he would be leaving soon, made everything feel like it was happening too quickly.

as wonyoung gave you one last knowing smile, she added, "i’m not saying you have to do anything drastic. just think about it, kay?"

you nodded, your thoughts were already a whirlwind. you knew you couldn't just let it go. it would always be one of those things where you would sit in bed wondering ‘what if’ for too long. love, this was a new feeling for you. love always seemed difficult, but this, this was so easy to fall into you hadn't realized what it was until it was too late. sunghoon had made it so easy.

wonyoung’s words echoed in your head, and suddenly, nothing felt certain anymore. You had a few days left. just a few days. the clock was ticking.

‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋ ‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋

it was later that night, after dinner, when the weight of wonyoung's words hit you again, reverberating through your thoughts, refusing to let you go. Sunghoon was leaving in just a few days. you knew this, but somehow it felt like a punch to the gut now that it was so close.

you sat on the couch next to him, the dim light of the TV flickering across his face as he absentmindedly scrolled through netflix. the air between you was easy, like it always was, the kind of comfortable silence that felt almost too natural. but tonight, with the knowledge that his departure was soon, the air felt heavy. Every small movement, every quiet gesture, seemed to be marked with an invisible countdown.

you watched him for a moment, feeling the tightness in your chest you had gotten used to. he was relaxed, his posture slouched slightly as he clicked through show after show, clearly not expecting you to say anything. but you wanted to say something. you needed to say something. the words wonyoung had planted in your mind, coupled with the overwhelming feeling of knowing he was leaving, made it impossible to just sit there in silence. your heart was pounding, your nerves a jumbled mess.

As you opened your mouth to speak, you realized it wasn’t that simple. telling someone you loved them was hard. so much harder than it seemed in movies or in your daydreams. you had thought, at some point, that the words would just spill out naturally, like they were meant to be said all along. but now, facing the reality of it, the vulnerability felt like mountain.

So instead of speaking, you did something else. something quieter, something that felt less like a declaration and more like a question. slowly, almost hesitantly, you reached your hand out, just brushing your fingertips against his. you didn’t look at him; you kept your gaze fixed forward, pretending to focus on the TV, as if you hadn’t just made that small, brave movement. the room seemed to shrink around you, the silence between you both suddenly stretching out, more palpable than ever.

for a moment, you weren’t sure if he’d even noticed. Maybe it was too subtle, too small a gesture to register. But then, from the corner of your eye, you saw his head turn, his gaze flicking down to where your hand rested next to his. Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, everything inside you stilled.

then, without saying a word, sunghoon’s fingers curled around yours, gently but firmly. He didn’t pull away. he didn’t hesitate. he just... took your hand. It wasn’t a dramatic gesture, but it was more than you had expected. your stomach did a somersault as warmth spread through you, starting at the point where your fingers touched, and radiating outward. your skin burned, and you could feel the flush creeping up your neck, your face.

the world around you seemed to fade as you sat there, hand clasped in his. you were so acutely aware of everything—the warmth of his touch, the soft pressure of his fingers against yours, the slow, steady rhythm of your breath. It was the closest you had ever been to him, in every way that mattered, and it felt like both everything and nothing at once. the simplicity of the act, his hand in yours, was enough to make your heart race. the gentle squeeze of his hand seemed to echo through you, sending a ripple of something warm and unspoken deep inside your chest.

but you didn’t move. you stayed frozen in place, not daring to disturb the moment, not wanting to break whatever fragile connection you had just forged. your heart pounded in your ears, and the more you sat there, the more everything inside you seemed to tighten—like a knot pulling at your insides. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt so vulnerable, but you couldn’t seem to pull away either.

for a few seconds, neither of you spoke, and you weren’t sure if you even wanted to. The silence felt like it was filled with a thousand unspoken words, each one hanging between you like a delicate thread. finally, Sunghoon shifted slightly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a slow, soothing motion, as if to confirm that this was real. That he wasn’t going anywhere.

you still couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, but when you did, just a quick glance to the side, you saw him watching you—his eyes soft, the usual calm expression on his face now laced with something else. something deeper. maybe he could feel it too. the electricity that wonyoung had mentioned, the tension you hadn’t known how to name.

the words you wanted to say felt even further out of reach now, lodged in your throat like a lump you couldn’t swallow. but somehow, it didn’t seem to matter anymore. in that moment, you weren’t sure if you needed to say anything at all. maybe the feeling, the connection between you, spoke louder than anything you could put into words.

still, with your heart beating faster than you thought possible, you squeezed his hand back, just slightly, in response. And though neither of you said a word, it felt like the start of something new—something quietly, beautifully uncertain, just hanging there in the air between you both.

it wasn’t a promise, not yet. but it was enough, for now.

‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋ ‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋

the days had ticked by, each one blurring into the next, the anticipation of sunghoon’s departure hanging over you like a storm cloud. it was the night of his departure now, and you couldn’t escape the feeling of dread gnawing at your stomach. despite all the time that had passed, despite everything that had happened - the moments of shared glances, the way his hand had felt in yours - nothing had come of it. you hadn’t been able to find the courage to say the one thing that had been consuming you.

the night had crept up so quickly, and now here you were, standing on the precipice of something you were too scared to face. his luggage was already packed, sitting by the door, ready to go. the knowledge of his impending departure made the air feel thick, suffocating. he was leaving soon, and you were still standing here, frozen in this quiet, impossible space between wanting to say something, anything, and not knowing how to.

you had never felt so lost, so desperate, so deeply in love with someone and completely clueless about what to do with it. Your heart ached every time you thought about the distance that was about to grow between you.

sunghoon walked into the main living area, a smile on his face as he picked up his bags, but as soon as you saw him, something felt off. that smile, it was there, but there was something sad about it, something weighing him down. for a moment, the rest of the room disappeared, your gaze was locked on him, and the reality of him leaving hit you harder than you thought it would.

behind him, wonyoung trailed quietly, her usual fuzzy energy subdued tonight, as if she could feel the heaviness of the moment too. she looked at you as she walked by, and gave you a look, as if trying to signal you to do something. then, almost as if on cue, she quickly excused herself, making some excuse to go greet a friend in the hallway. it was a subtle, unspoken thing, but you knew. you knew she was giving you the space, the time you needed, and probably a nudge to do something.

Sunghoon stood there, his eyes searching yours as he adjusted the straps on his bag. The silence between you felt like it stretched on forever. He gave a quiet, almost melancholy sigh, and then, in a soft voice, he said, "This was fun."

the words were simple, but they hit you like a brick to the chest. you could hear the weight in them, the bittersweet finality of his departure hanging in the air like smoke. ‘this was fun.’ It was the kind of thing you’d say when you didn’t know what else to say, but in that moment, it was more than just that. It felt like an ending. a goodbye.

your legs felt shaky as you stood up from your seat, the adrenaline coursing through your veins, your heart in your throat. every inch of your body screamed to move, to do something, anything, to make this moment more than just a quiet exchange of words before he walked out the door and disappeared from your life.

you walked over to him, your steps uncertain, but each one felt like it was pulling you toward something you couldn’t ignore anymore. you stopped just in front of him, close enough that you could see every detail - the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his nose, the soft brown of his eyes that you had gotten so used to over the past weeks. he was standing there, looking at you, and for a moment, everything in the world seemed to disappear except the two of you.

tears welled up in your eyes, unbidden, as your chest tightened. how could you let him leave when you hadn’t even told him how you felt? you tried to speak, but your throat closed up, the words tangled somewhere in the back of your mind. you could barely think straight, your mind a mess of emotions and the rush of adrenaline flooding your body.

before you even realized what you were doing, you reached out, pulling him into a tight hug. you buried your face in his chest, your whole body shaking with the force of the emotions crashing through you. the tears that had been threatening to fall finally broke free, hot and heavy, soaking into the fabric of his shirt.

at first, he stiffened in your arms, and you felt a pang of regret, like maybe you’d done something wrong—like maybe you were crossing a line. then, to your surprise, he melted into the hug. his arms wrapped around you, warm and solid, pulling you closer as though he had been waiting for this too. you could feel the steady thump of his heart beneath your cheek, his breath warm against your skin.

you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, just holding each other, the world outside fading into the background. your tears continued to fall, but now it wasn’t just sadness. There was a strange sense of relief mixed in with the pain. like finally, something had been said between you, even if it wasn’t with words.

you held onto him tighter, your fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt like you were trying to hold onto him for dear life. The feeling of him, of his warmth, of his presence, made everything feel raw and real. you had no idea what was going to happen next, but for this moment, for this breath in time, you didn’t care. you couldn’t bring yourself to let go.

he didn’t say anything. he didn’t need to. his arms around you, the quiet rhythm of his breathing, said everything that needed to be said. the ache in your chest was still there, but it wasn’t as sharp anymore. In this embrace, it was softened by the connection between you both.

as the minutes passed, you couldn’t help but think - this wasn’t the end, not really. It couldn’t be. not with everything that had been left unsaid, not with the way you felt when you were near him.

he lowered his head slowly, pressing his lips to the top of your head, his breath warm against your skin. it was gentle, like he was trying to hold on to the moment as long as possible. then, without pulling away, he lifted his head just enough to whisper softly, almost as if he were sharing a secret with the world only meant for the two of you:

“I think I’m in love with you.”

the words were quiet, but they hit you with the force of a thousand unspoken emotions. it wasn’t grand; it wasn’t a loud proclamation. It was simple, gentle, and so incredibly, him, and somehow, it was perfect. When picturing a confession of love you always imagined more, a dramatic confession like one in the movies. despite your imaginings as a child, this quiet, intimate confession felt like everything you needed, it was perfect.

as his words settled around you, something inside of you released. that knot of emotions - of fear, of longing, of the weight of everything you’d been holding in - unraveled all at once. the tension that had been building for so long, the feeling that something was always just out of reach, was finally gone. you felt lighter, as if a great weight had been lifted from your chest.

for a long moment, you just stood there, staring up at him. your eyes were red from crying, but in that moment, all you could feel was an overwhelming rush of relief, and joy, it felt like you could finally breathe again.

“i love you too,” you whispered, the words spilling out more easily than you’d expected, like they had always been sitting on the edge of your tongue, just waiting for the right time to escape.

it was simple. there were no grand gestures, no sweeping speeches. it didn’t need to be anything more than this. the words themselves held so much power, so much weight, that nothing else could compare.

his eyes softened as he looked down at you, and you saw the way they flickered with emotion, something raw and real in the depths of his gaze. he didn’t say anything. he didn’t need to. the silence between you was filled with everything you’d both been too afraid to say until now.

then, he leaned down, tilting his head ever so slightly, and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was soft, almost tentative at first, as if he was making sure you were really there, really with him in that moment. then it deepened, and the softness turned into something more needy, more urgent.

your hands instinctively reached up to run through his hair, threading your fingers through the soft strands, pulling him closer. His hand slid around your back, tracing the line of your spine with a tenderness that made your breath catch. his lips moved against yours with a quiet desperation, a sense of longing that seemed to echo the way you had felt all this time but had never known how to express.

every cell in your body seemed to come alive. the kiss felt like everything you had been waiting for - every moment, every touch, every word that had been left unsaid - it was all pouring into this one instant. in that moment, you knew. you knew that this was where you were supposed to be. There was no question. No uncertainty. Everything about this felt right.

your heart raced in your chest, and your whole body seemed to hum with the intensity of the kiss. it was as if the universe had aligned in this perfect moment, pulling the two of you together in a way that felt inevitable. you were no longer two separate people standing on the edge of something unknown. you were together, and nothing else seemed to matter.

you didn’t want to pull away. you didn’t want this feeling to end, the heat of his body so close to yours, the way everything seemed to fall into place with every soft press of his lips. The world outside didn’t exist anymore. There was only him, only this moment, and the overwhelming certainty that everything had changed in the best way possible.

as the kiss deepened, you felt the warmth of his hands moving down your back, his fingers slipping under the fabric of your shirt. The way his touch sent sparks through your skin, igniting something deep inside you, made you feel alive in a way you hadn’t known you could. you pulled him closer, wanting more, wanting to stay wrapped in the feeling of being so completely connected with him.

when you finally, reluctantly, pulled away for a breath, your foreheads rested together, both of you panting lightly, still caught in the aftershocks of the kiss. his eyes were closed for a moment, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and when he opened them again, the look he gave you was full of something unspoken - a promise, maybe, or just the overwhelming weight of everything that had passed between you.

"i don't want to leave," he said, his voice low, rough, as if he were still processing everything himself.

you smiled, your thumb brushing over the side of his cheek. "then don’t," you whispered, your heart daring to hope that maybe, just maybe, there was more to this story than either of you had realized.

for now, though, this moment - this kiss - was everything, and it was perfect, just as it was.

#enhypen #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x y/n #college au #kissing #fluff #enhablr #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fic #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon fanfic #sunghoon ff #sunghoon x you #sunghoon enhypen

49 notes · View notes

redrandomposts · 3 days ago

Text

ivan will never just be ivan. ivan can't be ivan without till—because without till he has no purpose.

or: five things he's done for till and one thing he's done for himself.

===

ivan frowned from behind a tree, eavesdropping as he heard a group of friends discussing the rest of the kids in anakt garden.

after listening to them praise him, the stark difference was scary. they talked as if till were the one bothering him. as if till was the one who wanted be near him. "never in a million years," thought ivan, quite triumphantly. till's never wanted him, but ivan got into his space easily. that's how it is: ivan bothers till, and till looks away, stomps away, is dragged away by the guards.

still, ivan has to correct this misinformation for till's sake. he taps them on the shoulder and informs them that it's him who wants to be friends with till, not the other way around.

===

ivan held a xylophone, playing a tune on it. he was in the learning stage, which he didn't have long (since he had to give this to till later) but he knew that till would be playing tunes on this, too.

dun dun dun, dun... ivan smiled. till would like this; a sweet lullaby.

ivan hid behind the doorway, peeking in. till was pulling a fuss in his collar. he'd unlock it after till fell asleep, he thought to himself, and began to play a tune.

(till was awake all night, eyes tightly shut, shivers running down his spine. the ghost had left long ago, the tune no longer playing, but still! that freaked him out!

later, when he found out it was ivan, he beat him up.)

===

ivan had spent weeks finding out how to escape. passcodes, taming the dog, maps, exits... he did it!

till had long desired freedom so he could find his mother. all ivan had to do was show him the exit!

and he did! he laughed as he looked back, seeing how till smiled and smiled. he looked before him; this would be their future, their hope, their—

home?

ivan looked back again. till was frowning, hand slipped out of his. he watched, helplessly, as he ran back to the garden.

mizi took first place after all..!

===

ivan stared at the lyrics he wrote. while he wasn't an expert like till, he knew how to string words together. pulling emotions from his heart and memories, he could give it life like till always had to his own music.

he hopes, internally, that till will listen. he wrote this song for him, after all. he doesn't even need to know the meaning, all he needs ... all he needs is to know that till listened.

(till didn't listen. ivan knows this because till didn't even give him a glance when he asked what the title of the song was. stubbornly, ivan ignored the hurt his heart pulsed with. there was so little time between rounds, he convinced himself, till deserved to use the time to rest.)

===

ivan approached the room. it was a wreck, microphone on the floor and furniture tipped over. ivan didn't mind any of it. he approached the only being in the room; till. he was slumped over, unconscious.

ivan sighed. he unclasped the collar, holding till in his hands. it wasn't okay, but it's the cards they were given. ivan would do his best to make sure till would be the happiest he could be in this situation.

===

ivan crossed the stage, eyeing till who looked away. the kiss was an indulgence, a thought of what he could've had in the garden. it was so violent, though; was this how it's supposed to be?

he wrapped his hands around till's neck, trying to be both as harmless and looking as violent as possible. mizi's last round had given him this idea. violence was against the rules and would lower his score enough to lose.

"sorry im being so selfish," he wanted to say. "i just can't live in a world without you."

till wasn't strong enough to bear a death on his back, this ivan knew. even if he despised ivan, he would care that he died right in front of him. that's how till was.

im sorry till, for forcing you to bear with my death.

for being the victim of my shallow emotions.

#alnst ivan #alnst #alnst till #ivantill #au idea #tillivan #alien stage #angst

34 notes · View notes

kaisaerinlover · 1 day ago

Text

michael kaiser

married life

tw: toxic relationship, abusive

you and your (not so) beloved michael kaiser finally decided to tie the knot. well, he decided, and you obliged. because what else are you supposed to do? you wouldn’t ever betray him, everything he wants is what you want too. he has you so well trained, doesn’t he? you went along with it because of how docile you are, how you’re basically putty in his hands. but you also had your own selfish reasoning, but you aren’t ready to admit that to yourself yet. no, you hoped that if you became his wife, maybe, just maybe, the tenderness he sometimes showed would be more common, the nosebleeds he bestowed upon you with his cruel fists would subside, the gentle nature he has somewhere inside of him would come out more often.

unfortunately for you, that’s not how michael kaiser works. and i think you know that too, don’t you? so why do you keep up the hope? you’re a true masochist, and he’s a true sadist. a very dangerous pair. dangerous for you, the one who subjects yourself to kaiser’s brutality willingly (it seems that way these days).

don’t get him wrong, kaiser yearns for love, yearns to be loved, yearns for you to keep on loving him ‘till the very end. and he knows you will, because you don’t have any other choice. michael kaiser is truly a master of his craft, a skilled manipulator and a very intelligent man. and now that you’re his wife, things really became a whole lot easier for him. he knows he has it drilled into your pretty little head that the only thing good for you in this world is him. him, him, him, him, him. pleasing him. loving him. being with him. being so sweet to him after he’s so mean to you.

he loves you and you love him. so why does the love he feels for his cute wife manifest in the most atrocious of ways? you know, he’s always making dumb excuses for why he’s this way. he thought if he was loved he would stop, then he thought if he got a girlfriend he would stop, then he thought that if he married you he would be able to stop too. he’s ran out of excuses now. he’s fucked up, all that psychology he’s polished up on throughout his life, all those books on human traumas and emotions, they should have made him realise what he really needs is the drive to change and a therapist a million times better than the average one. but he’s a little ignorant too, in that sense. or he was, he realises it sometimes, but he ignores it.

and besides, he’s not exactly one to complain about the arrangement you guys have. especially after marriage. you became so much more perfect, he didn’t even know it was possible. you’re the perfect, doting little housewife. and you’re all for him too, so cute, so docile. you like it too, but kaiser made you. you’re a little too stupid, a little too trusting and a lot too in love with kaiser to realise it. if you were just a little bit more intelligent than the girl he first met, he’s sure you would have realised something was seriously up by now. but it’s fine, ‘cause wits were never your strong point, nope, your sweet obedient nature was. and kaiser likes that.

you’re a great housewife. and he’s a great husband, you think. you’re in the kitchen, cleaning up, wearing a sweet little outfit kaiser bought for you. he’s so generous, he doesn’t have to spend money on you, yet he does. isn’t he just the best? so expensive too, he spends his hard earned money on you? isn’t your husband seriously just the best? you’re dressed in a cute vintage style dress, hair tied up into a cute ribbon and a cute pair of slippers and socks to go with it. haha, you don’t even realise it, but you’re playing right into kaiser’s weird fantasy. he always had a thing for housewives, everything. so now he has you dressed as one cleaning the kitchen whilst he’s hard at work. maybe he’s so obsessed with this dynamic because he never had it himself, his mother packed up and left as soon as he was born, of course. and his dad was an abusive sack of shit. fucking bitches. pieces of shit. ah, he’s getting worked up. he shakes off that feeling.

today, he tried to release as much of that pent up rage into the match. and he won, as always. he’s the emperor of the world. he wanted to get out all of his anger, because what he wants more than anything today is to be a normal couple with you. but that’s not going to happen, it never does.

he walks in, “where is mein engel, hm?” he stands waiting at the door, waiting for you to come greet him like you always do. after getting married you established this new routine. and you do come, you come so quickly to him and stand on your tip toes to kiss his cheek oh so lightly. “micha, i missed you sooo much” you bat your eyelashes at him. he has you trained so well, it’s impressive. you’re like some cute puppy, you’re actually incredibly well trained. he thinks he should indulge in this idea some time, he just likes any scenario where you’re completely submitting to him. but he shakes that thought off, he won’t get distracted for too long.

he wraps his arm around your waist and walks you to the couch, where he sits down and you stand in front of him, between his legs, looking down at him so innocently. you’re confused, maybe you’re not as well trained as he thought, because you sure don’t know what he wants right now. maybe a glass of wine? you go over to the wine cabinet and pull out a glass and pour in some wine.

kaiser is waiting impatiently, he trained you properly, didn’t he? so why the fuck aren’t you going along with what he wants. god, it’s pissing him off. he sees you walk away, ah, maybe you’re finally going to cook dinner as he wants. he picks up the tv remote and turns it to the bltv channel, today will be perfect, he’s going to simply sit with you, watch some soccer and then eat some nice homemad-

and there you are, standing in front of him looking oh so innocent holding out a glass of wine to him. are you fucking serious? you’re kidding right? you’re definitely doing this on purpose, don’t look so innocent. you’re just trying to piss him off, aren’t you? you fucking bitch. “what is this?” he asks you. he’s angry, but he’s being eerily calm. “wine, i thought you wanted a glass?” are you being dumb on purpose? no, you definitely did this to anger him, didn’t you? ah, he’s so mad now. “and why would i want a glass of wine, after such a long day of playing. wouldn’t i want a meal, hm? dumb girl” he patronises you. and you feel so small. “

but you do something unprecedented, something you haven’t ever done before… you have a… reply? you actually talk back? “y-yeah but how can i know what you want-“ enough. he’s even angrier now. why the fuck are you talking back to him instead of bowing and doing what he told you to do. you retarded whore. what the fuck? all that calmness is gone, he’s gritting his teeth.

poor you, you thought you could reason with him before he got mad, he seemed so calm. stupid, naïve you. you thought he wasn’t mad and now you’ll pay the price.

he knocks the glass out of your hand, the glass shatters everywhere, cutting your hand slightly. the wine pours on you, staining you red. and if that wasn’t bad enough, his fist hits you square in the nose. the pain doesn’t even register until you feel the first drops of blood, and then see them on that cute dress kaiser bought for you just days before. he’s towering above you, staring you down. you messed up, didn’t you? “you don’t talk back to me. ever. i didn’t teach you that. next time, keep your pretty mouth shut. you fucking bitch. did you forget your manners? that’s not how a girl like you should be acting. should i just find a new girl, hm?” he’s holding your throat with his tattooed hand. find a new girl????? no, don’t do that micha!!!! don’t do that to you, you didn’t mean to. but now you’re even doubting that, you definitely meant to. you just didn’t realise it. or something like that… it’s your fault.

he slightly releases the hold on your neck to let you talk, you have a chance to make things up with your words. a very slim chance. because he probably won’t care about what you have to say, whether it’s an apology or not. but he’s letting you talk, so use the opportunity before you get a black eye next too. “i-i’m sorry. i’m really incompetent” you don’t even make any attempt to grab his hands off of your throat, or even wipe up the blood streaming down your pretty lips. “i’ll not mess up again micha, i promise.”

your blood is covering part of his tattoo now too, he notices it and withdraws his hand, and laps up the blood. he always had an affinity for your blood, you taste so sweet. he likes tasting the hurt he’s caused you. it’s fulfilling, this is how he likes living. he loves hurting you, he doesn’t like admitting it often though, ironic for a monster like him. for some reason, that anger subsides. he’s not as mad anymore. maybe he’s going to apologise to you? you’re actually kind of hopeful for that, the small, rational part of you that knows it wasn’t your fault. but that part perishes as quickly as it was lit up. he ruffles your hair with his other hand and wipes the rest of the blood his tongue couldn’t quite clear up onto your rosy cheek. “it’s fine, don’t mess up again, ‘kay? i was nice this time, wasn’t i? you’ve had worse from me before. don’t take my mercy for granted, prinzessin.”

you’re so lucky for getting that mercy, thanks kaiser, isn’t he just so nice? you don’t even know how he managed to forgive you for such a horrible mistake. you’re a shitty wife, thank god your husband is so nice. and, ah, that dress, the one kaiser generously bought for you, it’s all ruined. all stained in the wine and blood. you ruined the dress with your incompetence. you messed everything up, god, why did he even marry you? you’re so stupid, and good for nothing.

he can tell what you’re thinking, he feels a little bad, but he’d rather you beat yourself up over it than him. it’s easier that way anyway. he pats your head again. “poor little thing, all bloodied up because of her own stupidity.” he chastises, and you look down in shame. he’s right, you’re so stupid. “let’s go get you cleaned up, little häschen.” and he does, he leads you to the bathroom sink, sits you on the side, and cleans the blood from you. he almost flinches at the newformed bend in your nose, and the bruise which just seems to be getting darker and changing between shades of nasty blues and purples every second. yikes, he forgets how delicate you are compared to him sometimes.

all you can think about is how generous he is, he hasn’t even changed out of his jersey yet. that’s how nice he is. and he’s bandaging you up too, a cute bandage to hide that hideous bruise. he wants to hide your mistake for you? that’s even sweeter, he doesn’t want you to look in the mirror and feel bad for it, right? that’s what he’s doing right? your husband really is the best.

and that night, you make up for your mistake. you serve him his favourite bread crust rusk, and a nice glass of water. get him changed into his robe. tie up his hair. give him blue-red glasses so he doesn’t hurt his eyes. you pamper him, ‘cause that’s what he deserves. you pamper him whilst ignoring that banging headache from the brutal assault on your nose. and the bruise on your neck. and arms. and legs. all from past outbursts of his. you tend to him and treat him like a king even though you’re so injured, but you’re too brainwashed by your husband, too eager to be the perfect housewife so he doesn’t leave you, and you end up ignoring all of this.

kaiser knows what you’re thinking, predictable little thing. he thinks you’re real stupid. he’s the one that should be scared of you leaving, he couldn’t ever find anyone better than you, anyone more willing. you’re perfect. but he won’t tell you that. he won’t give you an ego. keep being scared of being left alone, so that every second you spend with him you’re even more grateful. he’s scared too, but he’s confident most of the time you’re going to stay. he feels a little guilty for everything right now, ah, it’s one of those times. the weight of his actions presses heavy on him, but instead of taking it out on you again, he just pulls you next to him, opens his robe and drapes one side over you, feeds you a spoonful of your home cooked rusk and pinches your cheek affectionately.

“good girl, schatzi. so good. i love you. du gehörst für immer mir.” he nibbles at your ear a little.

and you just sit and blush. “i-i love you t-too micha, ‘s much.”

you’re the luckiest wife in the world, thank gosh your husband is so willing to put up with your incompetence and stupidity. being a wife is so great. you lean your head against his shoulder, and whilst you’re being so tender with each other, you can forget about all your physical pains caused by him, and he can forget about all of the things weighing and stabbing at his mind at all times, caused by everyone. you’re truly his safe place. a real angel sent from heaven.

“engelchen.”

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #dark content #michael kaiser x reader #bllk x reader #kaiser x reader #kaiser michael x reader #michael kaiser x y/n #kaiser x y/n

45 notes · View notes

cloveroctobers · 2 days ago

Text

HOME | 1 of 2 SERVINGS — JJ MAYBANK x OC [Fall Randoms] 🤎

A/N: This wasn't planned! The fandom makes it a little unenjoyable to write for this show but I like many have always had a soft spot for JJ. So here I am, after a while writing something because he deserves it.

WARNINGS: Language + better endings (delusions)! & the usual banter between the rest of the pogues like a family would! + Kiara x femOC as well.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔

IN A PERFECT WORLD no one would have to worry about a thing. People would live exactly the way they want to live without any judgment—as long as you’re not harming others of course—and just go on about their business.

Life’s good because it all worked out in the end.

The comforting thudding of a certain heartbeat only made Alma want to bury her head further into his chest. It was a common morning routine, waking up in each other’s embrace. The insomnia didn’t bother Alma much anymore, she can speak for herself on that, because the longer she stayed awake, the longer time she had. This journey through earth goes by as fast as you blink. This bothered JJ to his core, that after all this time, Morocco was still on her mind—not only that but Portugal too.

No amount of pills or melatonin (or "the purple devil," she liked to call it) was a friend of Almabelle Layton’s. Unfortunately in her teen years she was a bit of a pill popper, it all started because of her mild case of vertigo and her mother—whenever she decided to fly back into the OBX for a couple of days—forced her to go to the doctor, after getting tired of her daughter constantly choosing weed over “proper” health.

Alma was a huge advocate for natural remedies, knowing that majority of the medicine given to you is nothing but poison, since it may fix one problem but cause another.

We can talk about that at another time, though!

Regardless she’s grown used to being up with the moonlight and sunrise just monitoring JJ’s heartbeat. It wasn’t healthy by any means, she didn’t need a therapist (Dr. Montague) to tell her that but this brought her relief. Every morning, JJ would squeeze her shoulder and kiss the top of her head, voice full of sleep while he wished her a good morning.

Then she would respond with pressing a kiss to the old wounds of his abdomen from five years ago, 1-4-3 times before lifting her head to meet his hues of blue-green. The hand that didn’t hold onto her shoulder, would run a thumb along the rings underneath her eyes. He’d tried to hide the worry in his own but a soft smile was still on the corner of his lips the longer he looked at her.

She always had his heart so he felt like she didn’t have to listen too hard.

Never in a million years would JJ believe you (Reader) or a physic? If they told him this is where his life would be now. Owner of two properties, with his childhood home being transformed into an adoption agency. However with the treacherous adventure to get the blue crown, and all that they went through to get it back, it was only right that he did something that made sense.

JJ talked about it constantly with Alma and even mentioned it to the rest, who were skeptical but once it was pulled off, there were equal amounts of pride in their eyes at the grand opening. So where was his physical home? JJ got the Genrette home after the whole DNA testing process and the will was brought to his attention.

Let’s just say, shout-out to Paw-Wes!

“Is it weird that I’m choosing this place over my own home?” Alma remembers JJ asking her, after she plopped down on one of the old couches and tried not to inhale any dust.

He was walking all around the heavily decorated living room, touching any and everything. This was the day right after he agreed to take on the Genrette residence permanently.

Alma lightly shook her head, her short dark hair falling into the corner of her eyelashes, “No, I think you’re choosing what’s best for you and there’s nothing wrong with that. You get the chance to choose now because baby JJ didn’t, your mother didn’t.”

And there’s a new glint in his eye at Alma’s words when he plops beside her. Her hand goes to rest on top of the one JJ has resting on his knee. Immediately he intertwined their hands, peering into Alma’s ink colored eyes. “Thanks for being here with me, Kit.”

“Course, pumpkin.” She replies with her own personal nickname, before resting her head on his shoulder.

Building a home here, gave JJ the chance to know a family he never had the privilege to. It was a ball of emotions but he took it on because he felt like he needed to. A new beginning on his own terms this time around. To try to be close to what could have been, but also finding what always felt like what was missing in his life and holding on to it as best as he could. Although they couldn’t be physically here, JJ made it his mission to have talks with both Larissa and Wes out in the mausoleum often.

That was a project Alma took on, cleaning it up while paying her respects. It was sort of a birthday gift to JJ and once received, he thought he couldn’t love Almabelle anymore than he already did. Of course he could have paid someone to continue with the upkeep of his relatives but the pogues weren’t meant to accept handouts. It was all work hard and play hard. Being an investor in the adoption agency (which took a lot of learning and patience! Something JJ barely had.) along with still taking part in Poguelandia—which was mostly ran by John B and Sarah now—and having his own landscaping business, JJ found himself finally letting out a much needed long exhale.

Life was meant to be lived and it definitely was.

And for once it felt alright.

More than.

Like the floating of waves at your back, gliding you back to shore.

“Hey!” Sarah’s all grins as she throws her arms around Almabelle in a tight embrace, as the two women lightly sway from side to side.

It was almost as if the two weren’t just hanging out last weekend, or talking on the phone the day before last. Alma and Sarah grew even closer since her little one was the godson of JJ and that automatically meant Alma was the number one auntie.

Cleo, Wheezie, and Kiara all thought otherwise!

“There’s my favorite little guy!” JJ boasts, yanking the five year old from John B’s arms to hold upside down by his ankles before pulling the squealing chocolate haired boy back into his embrace.

Smiling softly at the two, Alma enjoyed seeing JJ with Jeremiah (yes, named after JJ himself) John Routledge. Having “little j” in their lives changed everything for the pogues; let them all be aware that there was more life out there and all of them had no problem going after it.

John B playfully shakes out his arms at Little J’s weight, making Sarah playfully whack his shoulder, before he slips in to give Alma a side hug in greeting, “What’s going on, Alton? I’ve got the pies out in the Twinkie.”

Yes, she was still (barely) running and although The Routledge’s have a more dependable car, the Twinkie was still their go to. Plus little J loved it and as parents, they would do anything to bring their child happiness.

“You say hi to the pretty lady.” JJ whispers into Little J’s ear, who already had his bright eyes (that were handed down to him from Ward) set on the bronze skinned woman.

Alma holds her arms out, Little J comes right to her, pressing a slobbery kiss to her cheeks. “Aw, thank you! Glad to see you too, pea.”

He was the perfect combination of his parents: chocolate ringlets for hair, almond shaped eyes like his mother with her father’s color eyes, high cheeks bones like John B, faint dimples on his cheeks from both parents, and a sweet smile just like Sarah’s.

Sarah laughs as she informs her friend, “If you need napkins, I have plenty!”

“That’s my boy!” JJ claps and points at little J, “But remember, that’s still my lady, huh?” He ruffles his hair, then winks at Alma before stepping out of the home to help John B with the desserts.

Leaving the men to deal with that, the three make their way towards the slightly closed off emerald green kitchen.

“I hope you didn’t overdo it with the pies this time, Sarah.” Alma says to the almost completely blonde woman, who gives an innocent shrug.

Sarah opened up her own cafe, Wet Bean Café, which was unfortunately in constant competition with Ruthie’s shitty restaurant. It’s been five years and that pathetic Ruthie still couldn’t stop her bullying ways. After dealing with massive flooding out in the cut, Sarah decided to make the decision to move it into town, using the inheritance Ward left behind, where she had to pay more for rent on the building, which Rafe was the property manager of. Go figure! The original WBC was a small lavender painted space, with a little drive-thru on the side, with two sets of bistro tables outside, and only room for three tables inside that were set up along the brick walls, with checkered floors. It felt very diner-like inside with its quirks and jukebox. The café was filled with Sarah’s baked goods and became a favorite in Kildare. It was Sarah’s but she had to make the decision to move back into town after the land had severe damage and couldn’t be built on anymore, which JJ helped confirm.

“There’s no such thing,” Sarah replies as Alma holds her son on her hip for a moment longer, “As much as these guys eat? There’s never enough! Plus it’s less than what I started with since most were donated all over the communities.”

This didn’t shock Alma.

In almost every way, all of the pogues found ways to give back, especially for those that were still struggling to make it.

“Did you hear from Cleo yet?” Sarah suddenly asks, after stealing a pineapple chunk from the charcuterie board.

Alma shakes her head before putting Little J down on his feet but he still holds onto the end of her wine colored shirt, “Only in texts. JJ was originally going to pick Pope up from Dare County because Cleo wasn’t sure if she was going to get in on time…there were delays with her helicopter situation.”

That’s right.

Cleo decided to heavily get into engineering and undergoing flight training. Sure she’s spent much of her times on boats, like most of the pogues but once Pope actually enlisted into the service to be a marine, it just made sense to want to know the mechanics of how boats and helicopters worked. Cleo’s always been a traveler so this path and with her cut from the blue crown, she had the skills that were already instilled and amplified them once she hit the books.

She had her own helicopter that she flew over on her own back to the OBX from time to time, his name was “squiggly” because he never flew straight once first brought into the air. Alma honestly preferred taking a boat rather than a flight to Nassau but that one time for John B and Sarah C. Routledge’s anniversary trip was unforgettable that’s for sure!

“I’ll check on her after I come back from the bathroom.” Sarah informs, “Are you okay with—

Blowing out a raspberry, Alma peeks down at little J who was already grinning up at her, “We’ll be just fine, shoo.”

Bending down Alma picks up little J to sit on the counter, lightly singing at him who was full of giggles at her source of entertainment, before she plucked up a slice of pear from one of the pear tree’s out front to hand over to her nephew. Her hands rested on the counter, caging him in as he snacked on the fruit, leaving her the chance to look at all the food that covered the spacious island. A large yawn rips through her lips before she can stop it, which makes little J laugh at the woman. “Auntie Mama needs a nap,” the boy teases one of his many aunts.

Alma playfully scowls at the boy, going to tickle him by the neck. Even if Alma wanted a five minute nap, her mind wouldn’t grant her that pleasure. She could have laid in bed forever with JJ but knew there were a few last minute things she needed to get done for this dinner, although Alma’s been preparing for the last week! A host’s job is never truly done. This wasn’t Alma’s first gathering for the holidays but it did bring a sense of joy that both she and JJ could provide this for their friends.

“I knew it would smell delicious in here!” A familiar voice called out, making Alma glance over her shoulder.

A smile graces the woman’s lips, “Is that Kie-Kie?!”

“The one and only.” She flicks her blown out hair over her shoulder as she pulls her friend by the elbow to embrace the sleep deprived woman, followed by her hands thrown over Alma’s shoulders.

Kiara had her eyes set on Little J, just in case while she embraced Alma before the two separated.

She then makes grabby hand motions to the five year old, “That’s right come on over to your favorite auntie!” Kiara smirks as she peppers the kid’s face with kisses while Alma scoffs.

Alma walks over to the stove across the room to turn off the handmade potpourri, “Girl, whatever! You look good! That have anything to do with your time out in the big apple?”

Kiara met Joey Del Marco who was a touron, funny enough about a year after what transpired during the fourth of July. Joey was originally from the east coast but vacationing with her new friends and she captured Kiara’s attention. It was hilarious trying to see Kiara deny her attraction and then feelings towards Joey, who extended her time out here just to see what would happen between the two. Joey fit in just as well with the group of friends: she was loud, proud, rebellious—you readers can only imagine what kind of shit she got into with JJ, both Alma and Kiara made a few trips to bail the two out of jail—before Alma got pissed enough to make JJ stay in there.

There was never anything wrong with fun but after the time the friends all had across the seas? Was too close and JJ had to learn that.

Alma was just overjoyed to see Kiara in a happy relationship. The girl was glowing, traveling back and forth from the south to the east coast since Joey’s dance career has taken off. Of course New York was the place to be for it and the distance between the two seemed to work for them just as it did for Pope and Cleo.

“Maybe,” Kiara dragged out and sent the short haired woman a wink just as the loud chatter from John B and JJ hit her ears in the background, “She wanted to be here but you know how showbiz goes.”

Alma only knew part of what Joey shared and it was exactly what Alma did not want. She could not stand the spotlight being on her yet these few pogues absolutely made a name for themselves, along with her being in love with the most well-known trouble maker on the island, who surprisingly (to those around the island) turned their life around in the span of five years.

Alma fans her hand about, just happy that Joey’s craft was also successful, “Ah, tell her to not to worry about it. There’s always Christmas and New Years to catch up.”

JJ interrupts as he carries some lavender colored boxes into the kitchen, “Christmas will definitely be at JB’s and Sarah’s! And New Years in New York with Kie and Joey?”

John B used his portion to start rebuilding the chateau before Little J was brought into the world in late April. That of course did not come easy and they took Alma and JJ up on their offer to stay with them (mostly in Demp’s quarters of the property, in which Alma scrubbed extremely clean, shout out to another trigger and coping mechanism! that is up until the colder months approached and squirrels decided to come down the fireplace) until they got the chateau the way they wanted. That was a story in itself but definitely brought the couples all closer.

Kiara pushed her lips out in thought, “…I’m down.”

“Y’all don’t know what cold is until you spend time in the city.” Alma tells the four, after inhaling the mixture from the boiling pot in hopes that the spice will give her a burst of energy.

When she was younger and not allowed to stay at home on her own, Alma had the chance to travel more with her mother who brought her to California and New York every so often. Her mother was a U.S. Customs agent who was originally from California and where she got her start in her career. She never meant to get pregnant with Alma but again, life happens and you do what you have to do. She moved Alma to the Outer banks simply because her parents lived out there and felt that would be a better place for her to grow up. Most of her time was spent in an empty home or with her hearing impaired grandparents until their passing when she was fifteen. She learned a lot from her grandparents and always thanked them for how she turned out. Alma never knew her father but she had a god-father who filled in as her father figure although he too, also lived on the west coast. Her step-father tried to be in her life but he was constantly on the go just like her mother and their marriage felt like convenience rather than love.

Alma never wanted a repeat of that kind of life in her future. She needed to be present, true, and never neglectful and of course things can never be perfect but it’s always the effort that matters.

Kiara huffs as she holds out her hands for Little J to keep high-fiving her hands, “Ha! Not with global warming constantly being against us.”

“Oh here she goes.” John B mutters, reaching out to spin little J in the air to say to him before putting him down, “Tell auntie Kie, you’re too young to listen to this crap.”

“It’s far from crap! The earth is burning and y’all need to stop being so ignorant. It’s never too late to learn about the state of the environment.” Kiara argues, fists going into her jean skirt covered hips.

Alma smiles at the brunette with a shake of her head while JJ rolls his eyes, and starts mocking her with his hands. Which makes Kiara pick up and chuck a grape at him that bounces off his forehead.

“Hey!” JJ yells, reaching for the chunk of some overpriced cheese, “Don’t start a war you can’t finish, Kie.”

Kiara furrows her thick brows, “I’ve won plenty. Do you need to see my resume?”

“Ooooo,” John B instigates.

That is coming from your very own Mayor of OBX!

Kiara’s always been political and environmentally friendly for as long as Alma’s known her. She juggled a lot, from creating a sustainable healthy smoothie drink business that was often sold in WBC but she eventually sold that off once she got deeper into politics. However Kiara did not completely sign over her rights without the promise of keeping her deliveries of supplies in Sarah’s cafe.

The doorbell made Alma zone back in on the typical arguments the two were having. She seemed to be the only one who heard it, taking her leave to the front entrance of the home to answer the door.

Rafe Cameron stood on the front step, arms full of alcoholic beverages. “Hey,” he starts.

He still looked the same, no longer sporting a buzzed hair cut, hair grown out in some sort of a mullet with spiked ends followed by a bit of facial hair growing in. He looked older yet his eyes still held unresolved issues and secrets.

There’s confusion in Alma’s brown eyes since she knew that she didn’t invite him to Friendsgiving and she also knew JJ didn’t invite Rafe either. Their beef ran deep and had its ups and downs, considering that the two knew just how to get up underneath one another’s skin. Yet the events that occurred in Essaouira and Lisbon did shift something in their relationship.

“Aren’t you going to let me in or let the dragonflies fly in?” Rafe’s sarcasm was possibly an attempt to break the ice or at least be funny but all Alma could do was blink.

There’s footsteps Alma hears and it doesn’t take long for her to figure out who they belong to. Considering…you know she’s lived and been around the guy for a while now!

“The hell are you doing here?!”

Rafe lifts his shoulders, “What’s it look like?”

“Like you’re about to get the door slammed right in front of your stupid lookin’ face.” JJ snaps.

Rafe rolls his eyes, “I got an invite just like everybody else…you got a problem with it—

“Yeah I do. It’s our house!”

“Which I can easily buy from you, Maybank.” Rafe smirked and Alma pinched the irritation forming in between her brows.

Those two still had their moments.

The dark haired twenty-something year old immediately grabbed onto JJ’s forearm, to stop him from moving around her to get into Rafe’s smug face. “We’re not doing this, alright! Rafe, I don’t know who invited you…but you better be lucky I’m in a good mood—

JJ exasperates with furrowed brows, “No Alma! No freaking way!”

Alma knew Rafe had nobody but Sarah (and Wheezie from time to time, the younger of the Cameron’s high-tailed it out of the OBX as soon as she hit eighteen). Then there was that up and down relationship he had with Barry (Alma’s ex) and she definitely did not need him here either so she would allow it. Of course Rafe didn’t want pity and this wasn’t that, Alma was just in the spirit of…giving thanks. As corny as it sounds and in simplest terms, Rafe was helpful across seas. As much as the pogues all had their personal feelings towards the eldest Cameron, he did pitch in on getting JJ help out in the desert.

A part of Alma felt like she would always be grateful for that.

“Rafe? You actually made it.” John B speaks from behind you all, keeping a hand on Little J’s shoulder who held onto his pants leg, still snacking on a pear slice.

A ghost of a small smile appeared on Rafe’s face as he stared over at his nephew.

JJ turns his glare to the brunette who raises his brows, “Don’t tell me you invited him here?”

Kiara didn’t wipe the scowl off her face either, arms crossed.

“I did.” Sarah announces her arrival finally returning from the bathroom with her phone in hand, “I know I should have asked you two since it is your house but…I wanted everyone I love here. And I hope you guys would be okay with that, to continue moving forward.”

Alma’s eyes met JJ’s, who appeared as if he was ready to chew his bottom lip off in annoyance. However the longer he stared at his lady, he loosened up, some. Flaring his nostrils he says to Sarah first, “I still wish you would have had a conversation with us first but…I get it.”

JJ turns back to Rafe who meets his gaze, “Fine. You can join our Friendsgiving but the second you act like an asshole, I’m throwin’ you out on your ass. Got that, Rafe?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be on my best behavior, just like you, right?” He winks at the blond before barging his way in.

JJ flings the door shut behind him, tapping his elbow into the palm of his other hand, and starts swatting at the air at Rafe’s back for practice, earning laughs and snickers from John B, Kiara, and Alma.

Who moves to slip an arm across her boyfriend’s waist, “We can play nice, right? Our house, our rules.”

“Damn straight,” JJ answers, eyes connecting with deep brown hues as she pokes her lips out for him to peck.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔

Part two can be found here since limits have changed for text posts now!

#Spotify #obx netflix #obx season 4 #obx s4 #jj maybank #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank x reader #sarah cameron #john b routledge #kiara carrera #rafe cameron #queued #fall writings #fall fiction #fall fanfiction

23 notes · View notes