#everyone else says it summer in July
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aduh0308 · 26 days ago
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i'll make you stay [huening kai]
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kinktober 2024 !! summary: when a day on the beach with your friends turns into you getting stranded alone on an island, the last thing you expect is a fairy boy to come out of the shadows. genre: fairy au, smut warnings: fairy!hyuka, telepath!kai, dubcon (at times), corruption, dom!kai, sub!reader, innocent!reader, virgin!reader, piv sex, unprotected sex, possessive breeding kink, masturbation (f. receiving), slight dumbification, lots of touching, he calls reader “darling”, “pretty” and “pretty girl”, reader’s shorter than him, they bathe together, cuddling, they fuck on the ground, fingering, slight overstim (f. receiving), dacryphilia, references to kai being some sort of immortal word count: 7.6k 🎧 — venice bitch (lana del rey) + I want to (rosenfeld) + aphrodite (RINI) + bambi (baekhyun) + sugar rush ride (txt) tagging: @stolasisyourparent @boba-beom @prince-jjae @yoseicour @wand3rlustm3
They told you to stay off that island. 
Everyone knew something was off about it— the ones who came back were never the same again, mumbling about an ominous “them” who hid in the woods on the island. No one knew who the victims were talking about, but it was enough to form urban legends that spread further than just the borders of your small coastal town. 
You didn’t believe the stories. It was just superstition, there was probably something there that people didn’t want found. 
And that belief is exactly how you find yourself stranded on that island.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
“Get on, loser!”
Your best friend grins at you from the front of a jet ski. It’s her beach house you’re at this summer— her family’s wealthy. Wealthy enough that they have four houses scattered across the country. 
You slide onto the back of the jet ski, and she speeds after the other four of your friend group. The rush of air flings your hair out of your face, the spray of the sea dotting your skin. You’ve always loved being at this house. It’s right on the shore, and the sound of the waves rolling against the sand is calming at night. Especially because sometimes, when it’s raining, it’s so loud that it drowns out the sound of two of your friends railing.
“Hey, Lila!” You shout in the ear of your best friend. “We should go to that island!”
She cocks her head to show she’s heard you. “Which one?” Her voice is almost lost to the wind but you manage to catch a faint whisper of her sentence.
“You know, the one.”
Lila turns around to smile at you. The look on her face is dangerous, and you grip her waist when she speeds up to pass the others. You can hear her yelling to them but choke on a mouthful of her long, sleek hair that she’s let down for once in her life.
You have no idea how your other friends can understand her when you’re right behind her and can barely hear what she’s saying, but soon, all three jet skis are skimming the water towards the island.
It certainly doesn’t look scary from here. It’s not a very big island, maybe a few square miles and thick with lush trees. As you get closer, you do notice that it seems devoid of any and all life. No noises of animals traipsing through the undergrowth, barely a rustle in the trees.
But other than that, it seems normal.
All six of you hop off the jet skis into knee-high water and step towards the island. You’re the least cautious of them all— Liam is in the very back, practically standing still. He rakes a hand through his red shock of hair. “I might stay here, guys… I’m not into getting abducted by whatever’s in there today.”
“It’s fine, let’s leave him here!” calls Julie, already ahead of you.
The sand slides between your toes as you pad up the length of the beach, and eventually it turns to leaves and twigs. Lila grips your arm, hissing in pain. “Fuck, maybe we should go back. I’m getting stabbed here.”
“You can go, I wanna find out what exactly scares people off this island…” You move to brush through a hanging curtain of branch, but an odd, buzzing noise in your ear stops you.
Everyone else around you stalls in their tracks. There’s no doubt; they hear it too, you know it.
And all of a sudden, it’s as if there’s a single breath in your ear, and a voice coos, “I’d listen to your friend, darling, I don’t think you’re ready to find us..~”
Behind you, Oliver, the designated stone man of the group, lets out an unearthly squeak and turns to run the other direction. 
Before you know it, you’re left all alone, sprinting back to the beach. You catch the tail end of your friends booking it back to the mainland.
And just like that, you’re alone.
With nothing. No phone— your one piece bathing suit and biker shorts didn’t allow anything bigger than car keys. Which are fucking useless now, there’s no way to get to your car.
You take a second to gather your bearings, sitting on a fallen tree near a small creek that winds its way into the ocean. This is fine. It’s fine! Your friends will tell someone you’re here and they’ll come and get you. You’ll be okay.
But as the sun goes down, your hopes go down with it.
It’s mid-July, the air should be warm and humid, not whatever this cold-plunge type weather is. Goosebumps pelt every inch of your skin that’s exposed. You’re seriously regretting not wearing your button down as a cover up.
You wrap your arms around yourself and lean back against a tall oak tree. The bark scratches your bare skin but that’s the least of your worries. If you’re here for longer than a day, without food or water, that’s not going to be good at all. 
But you trust your friends. They’ll come back! It’ll just take them a second. You can almost hear Lila chiding Liam for staying behind. 
A glance at your wristwatch lets you know that it’s almost 10 o’clock. At night.
Standing to walk inland is maybe not the best decision you’ve ever made. But you need to get warm, and moving is the only way to do that at this point. Each step causes dead leaves to crunch beneath your bare feet. The air is thick with the scent of decaying flora, must and dirt winding their way up your senses. It’s more than a little unexpected— you usually didn’t smell things like this until at least October.
One of your steps lands wrong. With a sharp gasp, your ankle rolls over a thick twig and you fall to the cold ground. Dirt clings to your skin in uncomfortable clumps. Brushing it off, you attempt to stand. Pain shoots up your lower leg, your heart pounding in your ears, and you’re not surprised when your limb buckles beneath you.
Well, this is just great. Stranded on an island with some weird telepathic creepo on it, you don’t have any supplies, and now you can’t even walk. You’re fucked.
And holy shit, your ankle really hurts. Sharp spikes of pain and you’re barely moving it.
A rustle in the bush behind you sends panic up your abdomen and you snap your head in the direction of the noise. Nothing comes into vision in the darkness your eyes have barely adjusted to. But once again, it’s as if someone’s taking a breath to speak in your ear, and the same voice from before projects itself into your mind.
“Darling, that ankle of yours looks bad… I can fix it, if you’d like. I promise I won’t hurt you...”
What the fuck? You must be making things up. There’s no way you’re hearing voices, that’s insane. Is this what happened to the people who came back from this place?
There’s a little chuckle in your ear and you whip your head around again.  “The ones you’re thinking of had bad run-ins with the rest of us. I am not going to hurt you. However, I can’t speak for the rest of them.”
The voice is almost… boyish. In a way. Not too deep, almost familiar, and you find yourself drawn to it in a way that is entirely unexpected.
But something prickles at the back of your mind. “The rest of them?” You speak aloud for the first time in what feels like ages.
“There are five of us, but only two of them are ones you really have to worry about. The rest… well, it all depends on you. If you let me take care of you, I swear to not let them touch you.”
A shiver runs course up your back. “You can… help me?”
“Even better. I can heal you. It’s kind of my specialty.”
You don’t want to accept help from this strange voice. But, even now, the pain is almost unbearable and there are spots swimming in your vision. “Please.”
“I’ll come and find you, darling. Stay put for me, alright?”
You scoff. “Like I can even move.”
There’s no response. After five minutes go by, you begin to believe you’d imagined the whole thing.
But a shadowy outline of a figure grows in the distance and your heart pounds in your throat. The silhouette is tall, broad, and fear creeps into your veins for the second time tonight. Big men are automatically scary— whether they actually are once they open their mouths depends on the individual.
But the boy who peeks between the branches of your hiding spot flashes you a small, genuine-seeming smile, and it calms your worries immediately. “Found you.”
His gaze drops to your swollen ankle. “May I..?” You nod quickly, and his hand meets the hot skin so gently you can barely feel the touch. Your skin grows warmer and warmer under his fingers, which are long and slender (not that you notice), and the throbbing of your ankle lessens the longer he’s touching you. Before it goes away entirely, he draws back.
“If I do any more, it won’t stay healed.” He stands and extends a hand to you. When he pulls you up to your full height, you notice that he’s even taller than he’d seemed from afar. At least 180 centimeters, he towers over you.
You put little weight on the ankle for fear of the pain returning, but the boy leads you farther into the woods and you’re forced to. Surprisingly so, it doesn’t hurt like before— not all the way better, no, but there’s barely anything there. 
“Who are you?” With the pain gone, your earlier skepticism is able to return. 
“My name’s Kai.” 
That’s all he offers, and if it weren’t for the fact that, deep down, you’re still a bit scared, you’d push him for more of an answer. But instead you dutifully follow him, hand still in his. His touch is warm, comfortable, with the tips of his slightly calloused fingers tracing soft circles on the back of your palm almost mindlessly.
“Where are you taking me?” You say after a few minutes of what seems like aimless wandering through the woods.
“To where we live. The others won’t be there, they’re out for right now. You have a few days before they come back, and hopefully you’ll be on your way by then.”
“You live in here?” It’s getting stranger the more you think about it. Five people, living in the middle of the woods on an island, who can do some sort of magic, and everyone who’s come back from meeting them has been so frazzled they could barely speak.
But Kai said he isn’t the problem, it’s the other four. And as long as you steer clear of them, you should be fine. In theory.
You step into a clearing. You don’t realize what it is at first— it’s too dark to see anything other than what’s right in front of you. But the ground underfoot changes from sticks and debris to soft, padded grass that only tickles the bottoms of your feet.
Kai stops and you stop too. “You can sleep here tonight. There’s enough room since the others are away. I’ll keep an eye on your ankle, okay?” His hand lingers on your waist for just a moment too long, and your cheeks grow hot.
Now that there’s light from the waxing moon above, you can see the boy standing next to you, and what you see makes your jaw go slack.
You’d been hoping he was at least a little bit attractive. It’d make this whole ‘rando-in-the-woods’ thing a lot easier. But he’s ridiculously hot. Messy brown hair he brushes out of his face with one big hand, a shoulder line that has you swallowing thickly, and a cute, slightly upturned nose with a little bump at the top.
You might not be so scared anymore.
You can only nod at his offer, heart going so fast that you can hear it in your ears. Kai leads you to a circle of hammocks tied between thick trees. “You get pretty crafty with nothing to do,” he laughs and holds one of them in a hand so you can get in.
It’s not as bad as the appearance suggests. Sure, the wound fibrous string that’s been woven together to form the shell of the hammock presses into your back. But it’s definitely better than nothing.
You fall asleep within seconds, acutely aware of how Kai’s gaze still rests on your form with a weight not at all uncomfortable. The extent of what exactly has happened in the past twenty-four hours doesn’t hit you until you wake. It’s early— with no blinds or curtains to block the sun’s rays, you’re up just after dawn.
Kai’s not there. 
You didn’t expect him to be, necessarily, but it would be nice to have some company. Especially because you can’t exactly go exploring in your current state.
Your stomach growls with a slight twist of hunger. You tamp down the feeling, but not having eaten since breakfast the day before typically has an effect on the human body. You wonder if Kai feels hunger like a normal person. He certainly looks regular. But regular people aren’t usually able to heal something with a single touch of a hand. And they definitely aren’t able to project their thoughts into your head.
A crack of a breaking twig behind you has anxiety curling in the pit of your stomach, right beside the emptiness that your lack of food has left behind. Kai had said that the only thing you really needed to worry about were the others like him, and you certainly haven’t heard a single sign of life during your brief time on the island.
You curl up in a ball as some sort of feeble protection. It doesn’t offer much. It doesn’t offer anything, really. But if you can’t see the impending threat, it’s less of a problem. (You’re being stupid.)
“What are you doing?” 
The voice comes from behind you and you sigh in relief at the familiarity. It’s not some sort of crazy being that Kai’s alluded to.
“Nothing. Did you break a stick?” You avoid looking at him. He’s barely wearing anything— shorts and a tattered sweater that doesn’t even close all the way. You can see hints of the lines of his body through the fabric.
“Yeah, on accident. I tripped a little.” The tips of his ears go red and you stifle a small giggle. “I brought breakfast.”
He empties the pockets of his shorts, and before you know it, there’s a pile of fresh berries sitting on the ground in front of you. You slide out of the hammock. “You didn’t have to…”
He shrugs. “You’re my guest. It’s the polite thing to do.”
Kai sits beside you and shifts to take a look at your ankle. The sugary sweetness of a strawberry melts on your tongue at the exact moment his fingers meet your skin, and the sudden assault on your senses has your cheeks growing hot. He’s warm— too warm. Almost fever-like, but you attribute it simply to the fact that he’d been scavenging for food only a few moments before.
You sit in silence, but it’s comfortable. You’ve never been able to do this with someone; there’s always been a need to be talking at all times, whether that was coming from you or one of your friends. But with Kai, it’s natural. Goosebumps form everywhere on your exposed skin that he’s not touching, and after a few minutes, he pulls away once more. “You’ll be fine after a few more days. Hopefully by then your friends will have sent someone looking for you.”
“Hopefully.” You pick at the dried mud on your elbow, and Kai notices your dirt-covered state.
“Would you like to clean yourself up? There’s a freshwater spring only about a three minute walk from here.”
The offer is too good to pass up. You shovel the last of the berries in your mouth in a manner that is both unladylike and embarrassing, but you couldn’t care less.
Kai’s hand makes its way to your waist when you stand, as if to steady you. You’re grateful for the support. Your ankle is most definitely not back to normal yet, and you’d rather not fall flat on your face in front of this fine-ass man. 
The wall of trees and bushes eventually thins back out to open air. You gape at the sight before you. A waterfall rushes down from an overhanging rock cliff about twenty feet overhead into a pool that’s surprisingly crystal-clear. It’s fucking beautiful.
He leads you to the edge of the water and turns automatically to allow you to strip your clothes off. You contemplate keeping your bathing suit on for a moment, but decide you’d rather not get a yeast infection from staying in it once it’s wet.
You wade into the water, enjoying the way gentle ripples circle away from you. Slipping beneath it, you’re surprised by the way the cold liquid covers you entirely despite the low turbidity. 
You let Kai know it’s okay to turn around, but his sudden request to join you sets off an unfamiliar ache between your thighs. You nod nonetheless, turning to give him privacy despite his assurance that you can look if you’d like.  
It’s not like you don’t want to. 
The little voice in your head surprises you. It’s not like how it is when Kai’s inside your mind, not at all. But the confession of your conscience has the blood rushing to a part of you that you’d rather not think about. Especially not in the presence of him.
You turn around once you hear a quiet splash of him entering the pool. His entire bare torso is exposed to you above the water, and you have to focus on not letting your eyes wander. A quick glance here and there is certainly acceptable, but outright staring is embarrassing.
You scrub at the dirt lining your arms from the previous night’s fall. Kai’s looking at you with a faint smile on his face. It’s borderline predatory, the way he’s watching you, but you convince yourself it must be a trick of the light.
He dips his head under the water, coming back up to fling his hair out of his face, and the water droplets catch the light so perfectly it’s like they’re sparkling. The sheen of water on his skin makes him almost look like he’s glowing from within, and you have to catch your breath, feigning disinterest, because he’s fucking beautiful.
“So,” you say. “How come you and your friends live here?”
Kai doesn’t respond. He only swims a little closer to you, close enough that your bare leg brushes his underwater. His eyes flick from yours, to your lips, then to the top of your exposed chest. It’s just a brief, momentary look and you could swear you’d imagined it because he’s back to normal in seconds.
He ignores your question, but raises an arm to gently touch your hairline. “You’ve got some dirt…”
The single touch sends tingles up your back and you try your best to ignore it. “Thanks,” you manage. Your voice comes out as a croak and you mentally curse yourself for becoming a mess in the presence of him.
He moves behind you to wash your hair as best he can, and the concentrated look on his face that you catch when you look back at him has you giggling internally. When he’s done, deeming his work good enough, he settles himself in front of you again, just looking at you. The lines of his body are on full display to you like this— you have to resist pressing a hand to the broad plane of his chest. The intimacy of it all hits you like a truck and you hunch your shoulders to preserve some sort of modesty.
Your time together in the pool ends a few moments later when you start shivering. Because fuck, the water is freezing. You press your lips together in frustration when you try to pull back on your bathing suit. It sticks to your skin like it’s made of latex, and no matter how much you try, you can’t hike it up and over your shoulders.
“Kai?”
“Yes, darling?”
“Can you… come help me with this?”
You listen to the water sloshing as he gets out. There’s a rustling as he pulls back on his own clothes, and then he’s sidling up behind you. His hands meet your back, and once again, you’re in shock at how warm he is. He’s radiating heat off of him like the fireplace in your best friend’s house. He pulls the straps over each of your shoulders in turn, straightening out the fabric, and if it weren’t for how brief the touch was, you’d think that his hand grazing your tit was on purpose.
“Let’s go back?” He suggests, hand finding your waist once more. This time, however, it’s dangerously low, almost reaching the hem of your low-waist shorts.
You let him lead you back to the clearing, mind wandering to the way his skin against yours has you feeling. More than a little “hot under the collar”, the phrase Lila uses too much about her boyfriend. You’d never understood what that really meant until now.
You and Kai spend the rest of the day together, and the fact that he’s always touching you is exceedingly acute when he leans his head against your thigh while you eat dinner. He’d gotten a fire going, and the both of you are lying against a tree with the heat right in front of you. His hair tickles your exposed skin and you laugh a little bit, tentatively raking a hand through the silky strands. He only hums in approval and shifts so he’s facedown in your lap.
His new position has you freezing like a deer in headlights. Kai’s face is practically in your… lady bits, and your inner prude is shying away a little bit at the touch. At the same time, the touch is setting off something in your lower stomach that is insatiable. The same throb between your thighs from this morning is back, stronger than before, and you’re trying to tighten your legs around it without him noticing.
But Kai slips a hand between your thighs in a way that seems almost accidental, and it satiates the ache just a little bit. He doesn’t say anything, just lets his fingers press perfectly against your pussy. There, you said it. 
It’s not like you’ve never touched yourself before. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence for you at all. But you’ve never felt the need to, like this. It was more of a pastime, less of a desire. In fact, you’d never understood the meaning of desire until this moment right here.
There’s an expectation in the back of your mind that Kai will make a further move, but he doesn’t. Only rests there, eyes closed like he’s entirely unaware of what exactly his touch is doing to you.
But you pretend like you don’t feel it, focusing instead on the way the flickering light of the flame casts dancing shadows of the rises and falls of his face. Changing him into some sort of ghastly creature, but it’s still endearing all the same. 
The sun’s light has long since left you, and once again the threat of what lies in the dark seems daunting as ever. A shift of the hand between your legs draws you back to reality from your typical never-ending loop of overthinking. You’re just fine. This beautiful boy is settled between your legs, and he’s already said that nothing can hurt you while he’s here.
“Should we go to bed? You’re falling asleep here in my lap…” You laugh, looking down at him with a small smile.
He shakes his head, grip tightening on your inner thigh, and you laugh. You settle back against the tree once more with a sigh.
After about an hour, your watch tells you it’s midnight, and you coax Kai from his place on you. “It’s time. I’m tired, Kai.”
He reluctantly sits back on his heels, running a hand over his face, and helps you once more into the hammock. 
“Goodnight,” you whisper into the dark.
The response comes from inside your head, but it’s unmistakably him. 
“Good night, darling.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
There’s a rustle in the bushes and your attention snaps to it immediately. Through the darkness, you catch sight of something, and sweet, familiar panic crawls its way up your throat. Four shadowy figures move towards you in the dark in inhuman ways, twitching and writhing like they’re being possessed. As they get closer, their faces come into focus. They look familiar, but you can’t quite place it, only sitting, paralyzed, in your fear. Well, I guess this is how I die…
With a jolt, you snap out of your dream, chest heaving. You let out a shriek when you see that Kai’s sitting above you, but you calm almost immediately upon realizing it’s him. 
“I’m so sorry, pretty, would’ve gotten you out of there sooner if I’d realized…” He strokes the hair off of your forehead, eyebrows furrowed in concern.
And all of a sudden, the sudden exit from your dream makes sense. He’d managed to take you out of your nightmare. And now he’s projecting some of your happiest moments to the forefront of your mind, to make up for the fear that the dream had caused. You’d forgotten he was telepathic. It still scares you just a little bit, to know he could see every one of your thoughts, but right now you just want to thank him. 
“Will you sleep with me?” You whisper, fingers wrapping around his wrist.
“Of course.” His response is barely legible, just a quick exhale, and he slips behind you so fast it’s almost as if he’s been waiting for you to ask all night.
Kai’s hand rests on your hip to pull you closer to him, so close that you can feel the soft rise and fall of his torso when he breathes. 
“Will you tell me about your friends? The ones I have to worry about?” You place your hand on top of his, mindlessly guiding it a little higher, up and under the sweatshirt of his that he’s let you borrow. Woah— what the fuck has given you this sort of confidence? You’ve never been the type to come off this strong with someone you think is hot.
But if Kai notices your eagerness for his touch, he doesn’t show it. He only takes a deep breath and tells you. “Their names are Yeonjun, Soobin, Beomgyu, and Taehyun. They’re all older than I am, though I don’t think that matters much when you’re as old as we are. The ones you need to watch out for most are Beomgyu and Taehyun. Now, remember, that doesn’t mean that Yeonjun and Soobin are innocent. They’ve done their fair share of terrorizing. But the other two are different. They play mind games. It’s fun for them, to watch people slowly lose their sanity. They like to prove how fragile the human mind is. A little push here, a little nudge there, and now they’re ruined.” He noses along the line of your neck. “But you don’t have to worry about them. I won’t let them hurt you.”
You nod, falling to that line between sleep and consciousness. Somewhere in your foggy state you comprehend Kai’s hand moving to cup your tit, but you don’t have a response, only scooting closer to him.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
The next morning, you wake like that. Except for the fact that now his other hand is down the waistband of your pants. 
You don’t mind, you realize. You should be completely and utterly turned off by this, but every thought running through your mind is need for him. All you can hope is that he’s still sleeping and can’t hear your thoughts.
There’s no movement from him, just the sound of his soft breathing, and you relax again. Through the thin, tattered shirt that he’s wearing you can feel the slight ridges of muscle that lie beneath his skin. That, combined with the way Kai’s hand is parallel with your probably dripping cunt, is making your brain go fuzzy.
About twenty minutes later, he stirs behind you, a small ‘good morning’ falling from his lips. If he notices the way you’re shaking against him from holding back, it doesn’t show.
Kai only sits, retracting his hands, and slides off the hammock. “I’ll go get breakfast, and then we can go back to the pool?”
You agree, and he wanders his way off into the woods. He stays there for almost half an hour, and you busy yourself with pressing the palm of your hand against the ache between your legs. There’s a noise from behind you and you jump, pulling your hand back from underneath your pants. 
Kai doesn’t seem to see your flushed state, only gesturing for you to come over and sit beside him. Once again, breakfast is an assortment of berries, and you pop one in your mouth, leaning your head against his shoulder. You converse politely all throughout your meal— it seems as if the both of you are dancing around the topic of this morning’s waking position. 
He leads you to the edge of the pool just like the day before, hand on your waist despite his previous proclamation that your ankle is almost back to normal. Kai turns to allow you the modesty of privacy, and assures you once more that it’s perfectly fine if you want to look at him. 
This time, you almost take him up on his offer. 
You’re not perverted, no, you don’t dare look when he’s tugging his shorts down and off of his hips. But you do peek a little when he strips off his shirt, the muscles of his back flexing in a way that does nothing to quell the burn between your legs.
Your knees knock together when you turn to find him now halfway submerged underwater, torso on full display. Thoughts that you didn’t even know you were capable of thinking are dancing through your mind. You try and shove them down, because, fuck, you don’t want him knowing what you’re imagining doing together.
Kai splashes you with a little bit of water, and you laugh, returning the action. It eventually turns into a full-fledged water fight that ends with the both of you leaning against each other in fits of giggles.
You’d managed to distract yourself from the prospect of Kai’s skin against yours, but now that it is, and he’s looking at you the same way he did yesterday, with that animalistic glint in his eyes, you can’t tamp down your thoughts at all.
You should be smacking his hand away when it finds your thigh under the water, but you let it stay. Because it sure as hell feels good to be… wanted, maybe? It feels different. It’s always your friends who are deemed the prettiest, the ones worthy of the male gaze and the attention that follows. You never thought you were ugly. The opposite, actually. You had off days of course, days where you felt like you maybe were unworthy of the touch of the opposite sex. But for the most part, you felt at least pretty. But, you told yourself, there’s a difference between what you think and what your crush thinks. Now, however, it doesn’t matter, because here’s this hot guy right in front of you and he seems like he wants you.
Oh shit. You’d just had this whole inner monologue, and now Kai’s expression is nothing but cocky. He’s heard everything, you can tell. A little bit of panic bubbles up from your chest at the fact that if he heard that, now he knows how you’ve been thinking about him, how you’d do anything to have his lips on yours, skin against skin, and why the fuck are you thinking about it now that you know he’s inside your mind?
He smiles softly at your inner torment, noting the moment you manage to tune out all the thoughts you’d been thinking only seconds before. Only one remains, as if on purpose. I need him.
“Can you hear what I’m thinking?” you whisper, cheeks hot. 
“Darling… I can hear you loud and clear.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s cute, how you’ve been looking all innocent, but every single one of your thoughts are so dirty. Is this how you usually are?”
He doesn’t even have to ask— he already knows that the answer is no. Because he knew it was all because of him. The touches that you had thought were accidental, the first few images in your head of how it’d be to have him inside you… He’d put those thoughts there, hoping your fragile mind would latch onto them and start the spiral of need that’s gotten you to where you are now. But you don’t need to know that. As far as you’re concerned, every bit of want for him is self-induced. 
Kai can feel your mind running wild when he presses his lips to yours. He’s never felt someone go this incoherent, like their brain is one big keyboard smash. You were one of the easier ones. Thank god he’d gotten to you and not one of the others, they’d have a hell of a time playing with you. 
His hand finds its way to the burn between your thighs, and the touch is little relief. You whine against his mouth, pulling away to whisper, “Make it go ‘way, please…”
Kai doesn’t have to ask what you mean. He grabs you by the wrist and drags you out of the water, laying you down on the shirt of his that’s laid out on top of the warm rocks. He doesn’t want anything hurting you while he takes you all for himself.
The ache in the pit of your stomach is back and it’s insatiable. Desire winds up every inch of your trembling body, hot and hungry for more. Kai presses consoling kisses to your neck when you reach to drag him down to you. “Patience, darling. It’s no fun if I just take you now…”
You nod frantically, hand flying to your pussy, because if he won’t touch you, you have to. But your own touch does nothing to quench the craving for him that’s settled itself under your skin.
Kai’s looking down at you with that predatory look again, a smirk twitching the corners of his lips at the way you’re so desperate for the relief he’s not giving you. He’s convinced that he’ll let you struggle like this for a moment before helping you out— what’s the harm in playing with your food before you eat it? But a whimper of his name combined with the look of pure desperation on your face has him throwing his morals to the wind.
Slender fingers slipping between your gummy walls, his eyes blow out wide. “You’re fucking soaked, darling..” His voice is practically a whisper, like he’s too surprised to talk properly.
You cover your face in embarrassment. You feel so vulnerable, laid out before him like this. The sun-warmed rock beneath you soaks into your skin and fills you with a cozy feeling that grows at the touch of Kai on your body. His fingers press perfectly against the spots inside you that only you knew were there— the fact that he’s found them so quickly makes you go weak.
The writhing in the pit of your stomach only increases with his pace, and a begging mewl slips past your lips when his calloused fingertip meets your throbbing clit. Hips bucking up towards his hands, trying your best to chase your high, Kai allows it. Your face screws up in pleasure and your whole body quivers under him when you cum. Little squeaks of his name fall from your lips when he doesn’t stop, too lost in the way you look like this. So ruined under him already, and he’s barely even touched you.
“C-can’t, Kai, t’ much!” you gasp, tears of mixed pain and pleasure wetting your lashes.
“It’s okay darling, just give me one more, then you’ll be ready to take me, alright?” He presses a kiss to your hot cheek, eyes sparkling at the way you nod silently, eager to please him.
Your walls convulse around his digits once more, a whine slipping past the lips you have pressed tight together. Kai coos praises in your ear, free hand stroking the hair out of your face, and he finally relieves you of his fingers.
The loss of contact has you pouting, but the ache between your thighs is already back, and stronger than before. “Please, make it go away, hurts!”
He frowns mockingly down at you, tugging at his cock once. “It hurts, darling?” You nod quickly, and he nods back at you. “Alright, I’ll make it go away…”
The head of his cock grows your entrance and he lets out a hiss. Fuck, he hasn’t felt a pussy as good as yours in decades. You’re warm and tight around him, greedy walls sucking him in so perfectly. You feel like heaven.
He doesn’t notice your small whimper of pain until a moment later, and he looks down at you in concern. “What’s wrong, darling?”
“T’ big, can’t take it…” You look like you could cry. “‘M sorry, want to, want to so bad.”
Kai stops his movements entirely, kissing up your neck while he waits for you to get adjusted to the sheer size of him. He knows he’s big— most people who come to the island struggle to take him. So he has no qualms about letting you take a moment to ready yourself.
He feels the exact moment you relax against him. It’s as if your whole body lets out one big exhale of pleasure, and your jaw drops open in surprise at the fact that this can actually feel good. Better than good. He fills you up like nothing you’ve felt before. Even the toys you’ve tried before haven’t made you feel like this.
It’s like a new state of bliss washes over you, the sensation no longer painful at all. Kai smiles down at you when you manage to open your eyes, and his fingers trace hearts on your hips. “Back with me?”
A small jerk of a nod gives him all he needs to know, and he starts up a pace that at first comes across as sweet to you, but just becomes frustratingly little. You want more than this— you need more than this. You don’t dare voice your thoughts out loud, but Kai’s settled himself in your mind once more and answers without provocation.
His hips snap against yours with a new aggressiveness that makes your head spin, spots dancing across your vision. Nothing crosses your mind other than the thought of how good he’s making you feel. He fits inside you like he’s made for you, like a lock and a key.
Kai’s lips quirk at this thought. It’s not like he disagrees. No, not at all. In fact, your analogy has his own mind reeling. You look so perfect under him like this, tears streaking your cheeks and dripping off onto the rocks beneath you, he could keep you forever. And that’s not something he thinks often.
You’re not faring well with Kai inside you, and your ruined state only gets worse when he speeds up once more. Pace turning from quarter notes to eighth notes, his thrusts are rough and deep. You can feel his tip kissing your cervix with every forward rock of his hips, and that realization is enough to have you teetering on the edge of your orgasm for the third time.
“Don’t cum yet, pretty, barely been fucking you for five minutes…” he tsks at your pathetic behavior. You tighten desperately around him, a choked sob wrenching itself from your throat at his words. Because he’s telling you not to cum, yet he’s still fucking into you at such an brutal pace that you’re sure if there were any animals on this island, they’d all be scared away from the sound of his hips meeting yours.
Ragged breaths leave your lips and Kai is quick to reclaim them, mumbling against you with a smile, “Couldn't stay away from me, could you? Pretty girl's only been here for a few days and she's already tight around my dick..."
Hot shame winds up your neck and face and he notices the change to your thoughts, kissing you again, breath mixing with yours. “Didn’t mean it like that, love the way you need me s’ bad. Need you too, can’t you tell?”
You nod, head lolled back when he tugs your torso up towards his to get better access to your cunt. Something about your expression is going to haunt him, he can tell. Eyebrows furrowed together and upwards, mouth hanging open in a perpetual scream… Yeah, he won’t be forgetting you. 
Nor does he want to. You’re different from the other’s who have been here before— they’ve all had the same weakness as you, fragile bodies and even more fragile minds. But you do want him. That much has been obvious since you laid your eyes on him. The ones before needed a bit more persuasion before they threw themselves at him, but you… He barely had to give you anything for you to leech onto the idea of fucking him.
Your nails dig into his back and he welcomes the pain— anything to feel alive at this point. Your poor shaking form begs for the luxury of cumming, and Kai finally relents, cooing in your ear, “Go ‘head now, darling, let go for me, alright?”
The pure expression of ecstasy on your face is worth it, and your walls flutter helplessly around him as your orgasm hits you. He holds you throughout your high, pace of his hips never letting up. “Good girl, there we go, cumming on my cock… Making such a mess, aren’t you?”
There’s a sticky ring of white around the base of his dick, your cum and arousal mixed with his precum, and Kai laughs at the sight. He lays your back flush against the ground again, instead hiking your legs up and over his shoulders. “Gonna fill you with my cum, mkay pretty? Gonna make you mine…” Your eyes go wide and he worries for a moment that he’s gone too far, but the images flashing through your mind betray your obvious excitement at this proposal. Thoughts of the two of you, all alone on this fucking island until the end of your days.
You’re shaking under him again at the suggestion, and he laughs, leaving a gentle kiss to your top lip. “That’s it, that’s my good girl, you like that idea? Can’t help it, gonna make you mine forever, how’d you like that? Let me take care of you? Promise I’ll make you feel this good all the time, if you’d let me..~”
You’re nodding so fast that it’s almost comical, but Kai only kisses you again. Your tongue meets his for the first time and the taste of him on your lips sends you teetering into a dangerous state of mind. Your thoughts are practically just a chant of his name, over and over again, and Kai’s trembling above you at the realization that he’s fucked you so good that he’s literally all you can think of.
You cling to him when you feel him twitch inside you, warm cum painting your insides. It spills out from your cunt when his softening dick slips from between your gummy walls, and he’s transfixed on how pretty you look with him inside of you.
You’re catching your breath, still in a state of nothingness, and Kai slips inside your mind to make sure he hasn’t ruined you like the others. “Are you here with me, darling?” You nod, eyes still glassy with tears. “Good. Let’s do that again sometime, hm?”
Before you can respond, there’s a snap of a twig and you grip Kai’s hand in your own. If he’s here, and there’s no animals on this island… then what’s making that noise?
“Oh fuck,” Kai whispers, a panic rising in his throat. There’s no way to conceal you, none at all. He’s just going to have to let them see you.
Four tall forms step out one by one from the brush, and your jaw goes slack. It’s them. It has to be.
The one in the middle looks down at you with a glint in his eyes, and he flicks the brown hair out of his face with a pinky finger. 
There’s a breath in your ear and you can tell immediately that it’s not Kai this time. A deep voice coos in your mind, and when Kai flinches, you can tell he hears it too. “Well, what do we have here, Huening?
“Have you brought us a new toy to play with?”
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hunterrrs · 1 month ago
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another sidnate love fest on SC ("he could be 50 and i'd still slide over" - said by man who fucked that old man) (plus he loves mitchy SO MUCH and wants to do a timmies commercial with him, sid and marchy causing Trouble)
Q: I was actually gonna ask you, now that you’re the reigning MVP, you used to have to go over to Sid’s gym all summer long. It was the older one, you spent all this money for the new upgraded one. Now that you’re the MVP does he have to come train with you? How does that work?
A: No, no, it doesn’t work like that *laughs* (You’re still getting bullied?) Oh yeah. Still going to his gym. All good. He’s 20 years in the league, so… Yeah. I train with Batheson so I make him come to my gym. He makes me feel better about myself, so… that’s what I do.
Q: What did you say to Sid when he took 8.7, did you know that was coming?
A: Yeah, I mean *laughs* I remember, like, in July I was like, man, you’re not gonna sing for 8.7. Like c’mon. He’s like, ah, I don’t know, we’ll see. It’s so cool though, the legacy he’s leaving. How much money is left on the table and his desire to still win. He’s still taking less to try and get somebody else this year and next year.
Q: As somebody who’s always looked up to him, he’s 37 now, he’s still doing it. That’s gotta not only amaze you but also kinda inspire you a little bit. Does that surprise you that he’s still doing it or not at all, knowing him?
A: Man, you should see this guy in the summer. My workouts are like a joke. The recovery summers I do, and he is just grinding. He just grinds. He loves it, I think. I think it’s also awesome, not that he wouldn’t be motivated having this Four Nations thing, and then the Olympics. So no matter what happens, he’s got two things to look forward to and be dialled in for and I think being the captain of Canada, I can’t imagine the pressure to be at your best. He’s ready. He looks amazing, All the guys on the ice, it’s amazing he’s 37. He doesn’t look 37.  (Because he doesn’t have kids!) *laughs* Must be the key.
Q: Did you actually have a cereal released in 2021 called MacKinnon Crunch?
A: I did. Frosted flakes. I picked the flavour though, I liked that. (Was that right before you got your deal with Tim Hortons, became a server at their restaurant?) That was 2015. (Do they have you do that same thing every summer?) We haven’t done that since then. We’ve always wanted to do one where we get Marchy in there just because we’re Nova Scotians, and he’s being a rat and messing up people’s orders, and we gotta like sit him down and tell him what to do. They haven’t done that yet. Marchy needs to be nicer on the ice to be more marketable.
Q: Would that be your dream line for the Four Nations? Yourself, Sid and Marchand?
A: That would be cool. (You’d play the wing?) Oh yeah. Yeah, I’m ready for the wing. Definitely. McDavid, Sid, one-two punch. And then everyone kinda figures it out. (In a room like that you’d essentially delegate to McDavid?) You’re not putting McDavid on the wing, that’s crazy! I don’t mind right wing, I’ve played wing, I’m comfortable there and I don’t know if those two have ever played wing. I’m sure they could easily figure it out. They’re two of the smartest players ever. But I think to have those two guys a one-two punch and then if I’m third line centre that’s cool, if I’m playing on McDavid’s right.
Should I tell Sid to go to the wing, do you think? (“I’ve been working at your gym all these years. I’m the Ted Lindsay winner and the MVP. I gotta get something out of this relationship.”) Yeah, I think he could be 50 and I’d still slide over. No problem. Being on a Nova Scotia line it would be really cool. I think we’d work well together too. The way Marchy plays he’s just gonna muck, forecheck, and then Sid’s Sid, and I can try to push the pace.
Q: You said you went to Europe this summer…
A: It’s just relaxing. Just get off the grid. I was definitely tempted to go to Worlds last year. Sid was bugging me and Schenner bout it. (Saying what, if you go, I’ll go?) Yeah. So we were all gonna go, but then I was just like man, I just played 105 games, just lost to Dallas. At this point I feel like I’m all in or it’s hard to go over there and like (Skate around and giggle.) It’s just tough.
Q: You skated in the summer with Marner, how’s he looking?
A: He looks awesome. You hear stuff that’s always negative, a lot of the time it’s negative and then you get on the ice with him and you’re like, how can anyone ever be negative about this? That’s why I think for me, I just admire how good he is because people chirp him a lot. Up in Vail he was sick. Him and McDavid were flying around together. It was so fun to watch.
Also, beloved health freak <3
I used to like going to Popeye’s Supplements as a kid with my dad and looking at protein powder and stuff. I don’t know. I’m just into it.
Q: We heard so much about you policing the food in the locker room. Are you still doing that? Are you still going on there, like no sugars, no sweets. Whit said you strangled Lehkonen because he ate a Snickers bar or something. Is that true?
A: Nawww, stop it. That’s not true *laughs* I’m trying to mellow a little bit for sure. I definitely see some shit and I get mad but I try to keep it to myself. I don’t know, you eat what you want but I just think when you’re at the rink, we’re the NHL, you’re a pro athlete, I think it should be healthy and good food. I just think the least you can do as a pro athlete is be in good shape.
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drewsephrry · 5 months ago
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home
Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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Words: 2k
Warnings: drug abuse, dealing, cuss words
Summary: 1x06 when Ward kicks Rafe out of the house, he finds home somewhere else
A knock on her window awakened her from her deep slumber. She rubbed her eyes and looked at the window's direction, unable to see anything other than a man's shadow. She grabbed the lamp from her bedside table and held it as a bat before the knocks became louder. She slowly approached the window, pulling away the curtain only to find Rafe Cameron on the other side. She dropped the lamp and opened the window, helping him inside.
“Are you insane? What are you doing here?” She asked with furrowed brows, before noticing Rafe's tear stained face. Her face softened as she helped him sit on the bench under the window.
Truth is Y/N Y/L/N and Rafe Cameron weren't the best of friends, if you could even call it that. They had grown up together because their parents were business partners and ever since they can both remember they were always around each other.
Pool parties at Tannyhill paired with movie nights under the stars after Rose bought that outdoor projector.
4th of July parties at the Y/L/N's household barbecuing and when everyone was too busy or having too much fun, Y/N’s older brother, before he left for college, Rafe, Sarah and Y/N would steal beers and watch the fireworks from Y/N's bedroom balcony.
Midsummers with Rafe accompanying Y/N every year and always matching with each other, thanks to Rose and Y/N's mom.
Y/N only being allowed to extend her curfew if Rafe is the one driving her home, because according to her dad he is the only man he can trust with Y/N, besides her own brother.
And to make matters worse, as if they were not seeing each other enough already, Sarah, Rafe's sister and Y/N's best friend, started dating Topper, Rafe's best friend.
For the past two years, Rafe's attitude and energy had completely shifted for the worse. He was out partying almost every night, returning home drunk off his ass sneaking in with a desperate touron. He kept taunting and being mean to the Pogues, just because he and his family have power and money. But the main reason Y/N had decided to take a step back from him was because Rafe started doing drugs and eventually dealing. She was crushed when she saw him at Kelce's end of summer party, sniffing a white substance with a rolled dollar bill. The next morning, their parents and them were having breakfast at the Country Club and when she had the chance she yelled at him, lecturing him on drug abuse and dealing, but Rafe couldn't give a shit. He couldn't because he was high as a kite, with bloodshot eyes and trembling hands. Y/N ended up throwing her drink at him, telling him to wake the fuck up and she left.
She never considered him as someone to confide in or to hang out when she had no one else. And she thought that was the same for him. But seeing the way his whole body shaked and tears escaping his eyes, looking like a lost helpless puppy, she couldn't help herself but try to help him.
“What's wrong?” She whispered, sitting beside him on the bench, stroking his back in an attempt to calm him down. Rafe's head rested on his hands as he sobbed.
“You can talk to me Rafe” She tried as he continued crying his eyes out “Or not, if you don't want to. But I'm here if there is any way I can help.”
Rafe nodded, lifting his head sniffling. She got up and walked towards her ensuite.
“Where are you going?” He whispered. Y/N returned holding her tissue box, showing it off to him. She sat back down on the bench, handing it to him. He nodded his head, his way of saying thank you and blew his nose.
“Did something happen?” Y/N asked, as Rafe bit the inside of his cheek.
“I didn't know where else to go.” He confessed.
“What about Topper? Or Kelce?” She asked, scoffing.
“Fuck, I'm sorry Y/N. I shouldn't have bothered you. I shouldn't have come here. It…this was a mistake.” He stuttered, getting up as well and started pacing around the room.
“What are you talking about?” She asked but he never answered.
“Rafe, are you high?” She asked concerned and at the same time getting angry at him.
“What? No. I would never let you see me like that. Not again.” He seemed hurt. Truth is Y/N didn't know what she would do if he was. Would she throw him out? Would she try to sober him up? Maybe she would call Top to pick him up or maybe even Sarah. Maybe she would drive him home, herself. Even if she's not a good driver.
“Oh. Sorry.” She said, lowering her head feeling bad as Rafe shook his head.
“Can…is it okay if I crash here tonight?” Rafe finally asked. Y/N lifted her head, widening her eyes in shock.
The last time Rafe slept over at the Y/L/N household, he was 10. Ward and Rose had to go to the Bahamas for a business deal, so Y/N's dad immediately offered to let their kids stay at his house. The girls did their nails and braided their hair while the boys, Topper included, played with Y/B/N's Nerf guns running around and causing chaos. At the end of the night they all ended up watching a movie together and Y/N fell asleep on Rafe's shoulder.
“Yeah, sure. I can go prep Y/B/N's room for you, get you some clothes to change.” She got off the bench but before she could leave, Rafe grabbed her hand stopping her.
“Can I stay here with you?” He whispered, his eyes begging her to let him. Y/N's eyes couldn't tear away from their entangled hands until Rafe noticed and pulled away.
“Ye-yeah okay. We can do that, if that's what you need right now.” Y/N nodded her head and Rafe smiled at her, for the first time that night.
“I'll go grab you some clothes and be right back, okay?” She asked him, reassuringly.
“Yeah, yeah.” But before she could go, he grabbed her hand again, squeezing it.
“Thank you.” He whispered, making Y/N smile and then walk out of her room.
As she was searching for some clothes in her brother's bedroom, she couldn't help but wonder why he chose her. He had so many friends, he could crash at any one of their houses. Or he could just go home, his family wouldn't be awake and would never notice him sneaking in. Why did he say that this was a mistake? He wasn't high, so she thought that he made his decision consciously. Maybe he did. Or maybe he did not.
She walked back in her bedroom, finding him sitting on the edge of her bed. Her eyes focused on the lamp that was now back on her bedside table.
“You didn't have to put that back, I could have, on my own.” She exclaimed and Rafe chuckled.
“Honestly, did you think that lamp would save you from an intruder?” Rafe tried to hide his giggles.
“Shut up!” She groaned, joining him chuckling.
“Here.” She said, handing him the clothes.
“Thanks!” He got up and removed the blue collar shirt he was wearing.
“Woah. I-I umm can go to the bathroom. Give you some privacy.” Y/N closed her eyes with her hand, making Rafe chuckle once again.
“Y/N come on. It's not like you haven't seen me change before.” Rafe started unbuttoning his khaki shorts.
“Yeah, but still.” She replied, as she just turned her head away, while he was putting on the clothes she brought him earlier.
“I'm done. You can look now, princess.”
The nickname caused goosebumps rising on her skin. She looked up at him, finding him shirtless lifting the bed covers.
“Which side do you prefer?” He asked and she pointed at the right side of the bed, before he climbed on the left waiting for her to join him.
“You sure you want me to stay here with you? I can go to the guest room or the couch downstairs, maybe even the floor. I don't mind.” She started rambling.
“Don't be stupid. You'd seriously let me stay in your bed and you'd go sleep downstairs or on the fucking floor? Come on, Y/N.” He scoffed, patting the spot next to him. She nodded and approached the bed, getting under the covers.
“Well, good night.” She exclaimed, turning away from him facing the window he entered just moments ago.
“Good night.” He whispered, staring up at the ceiling. Y/N was trying really hard to fall asleep but knowing Rafe was in her bed, was making it very hard for her. She didn't want to bother him by tossing and turning, so she remained staring at the window.
“Can't sleep either?” He asked and Y/N nodded.
“Yeah.”
“He…he kicked me out.” Rafe whispered. Y/N's features scrunched up in confusion.
“What are you talking about?” She asked, turning to finally look at him. He was still staring at the ceiling.
“My dad. He kicked me out of the house.” He replied, making Y/N sit up.
“What the fuck? What do you mean he kicked you out? Why?” She was furious. She knew Rafe and Ward's relationship wasn't the best but she never could have imagined him kicking his own son out.
“He…it's not important.”
“Dude, what do you mean it's not important? Your dad just fucking kicked you out of your house!” She exclaimed, getting more furious.
“I think your parents didn't hear you well enough. Yell it once more.” He whispered sarcastically, making her grimace at him and whisper ‘sorry’.
“He found out about me dealing. That I owed Barry, my supplier, some money and we went there. He…Y/N, I…” He stuttered “I never seen him this mad. He was hitting and kicking him and I was terrified.” His body shook.
“Rafe…” she touched his arm, making him flinch “I don't know what to say.” She continued.
“Sorry, I didn't…I shouldn't have told you all this.”
“No, it's good you did. We're going to find a solution.” She touched his arm again, but this time he didn't flinch.
“Thank you, Y/N.” He said, turning his head towards her, before she laid back down. Their heads facing each other, staring at the other's eyes. Y/N never had noticed how blue his eyes were, even in the dark room, only the moonlight highlighting his face.
“Why me?” She couldn't help herself but ask.
“What?” His brows furrowed in confusion.
“Why did you come here? You could have gone anywhere but here. At Top's, at Kelce's, but you chose to come to me. Why?” Rafe gulped.
“Because I needed you.” He whispered, Y/N shook her head not understanding.
“I fucking love you. I have for so many years and I know it may not seem like it and I'm so sorry for making your life hell but I needed something to distract me from my feelings for you. And tonight, I felt like I needed you after what happened. It's okay if you don't feel the same way, we can just pretend like this never happened and I'll be out of your shoes tomorrow morning.” He confessed, shocking Y/N. She tried to find the right words as her mind processed what just happened.
“You don't have to say anything.” He exclaimed, turning around.
She put one of her hands on his cheek, turning him to look at her as her face approached his. Their noses touched as they breathed each other's air.
“Can I kiss you?” She whispered. Rafe stared at her plump lips before nodding as they closed the space between them. Her soft lips meeting his in a passionate kiss.
They pulled away, both panting with closed eyes.
“Get some sleep. Tomorrow, we're going to the Country Club for brunch. I'm paying.” Y/N said, hugging his body before falling into deep slumber.
A/N: hi, hope you like this small awful blurb i started writing a few weeks ago when i started rewatching obx for the millionth time. the ending is a little rushed, i know and i am so sorry for that but i was blocking so hard!!!
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jlheon · 4 months ago
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𝓕𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 ୨୧ 𝐍𝐑𝐊
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(𝓹airing) ── nrk x fmr ꣑୧ 𝓮stablished relationship ; fluff (𝔀ordcount) five-hundred 𝓹eng's note. america core for my bf 🦅 𝓫ookshelf
𝓼ynopsis. spending the fourth of july with your boyfriend at the beach
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you walk beside your boyfriend from the parking lot to the beach.
clad in his one of his hoodies due to the breeze and coolness being near the ocean gives off. your hair blowing in the wind slightly at riki grabs your hand.
the soft sand touching your feet as you maneuver through the crowds of families in the sand. sprawled out on mats, picnic blankets, towels, and beach chairs.
“i don’t think we’ll find a spot here,” riki squeezed your hand, “we can watch from the car.”
“no! i have a spot for us,” you dismissed him, “just follow me!”
you drag riki along amongst the crowd for a bit when you finally step feet off the sand and onto a grassier area. he quickly hands you your sandals and slides on his before continuing on your path.
walking uphill until you get to the top of the hill where there’s a couple of beach chairs and benches. the only two people there being you and riki as everyone else opted to watch the show from the sand.
you tug on your boyfriend’s hand a little harder as you climb to sit on the ledge of the stone wall looking down on the ocean and the beach. not to high up but enough to make you feel like you and riki were the only people on earth.
“look,” you tap riki’s shoulder, “they’re staring!”
as the noises register in his brain, he looks up at the sky over the ocean. sparking shots of red, white, blue, and other colors illuminating the sky.
though his vision quickly shifts to the girl next to him. the colors from the fireworks shining against your face that is grinning softly mixed with subtle light from the moonlight.
riki thinks he’s never seen anyone prettier.
your eyes brightening not just from the sky but the pure joy your body emits from sharing such an intimate moment with your boyfriend.
your lips curled into a soft smile as you gaze into the chilly summer night.
riki thinks how could there have ever been a time where he wasn’t in love with you.
in love with you.
riki finally feels that it’s the right time to utter the three words he has spent weeks stuck on.
was it too early in your relationship? did your other partners wait or say it immediately? did you love him back?
“ki, you’re not looking at the fireworks,” you interrupt his whirlwind of thoughts, your head tilted to the side in confusion.
“i love you,” riki returns your stare with an expression full of love.
you take a minute before responding, “i love you too,” flustered face turning to look back at the sky, hoping it masks the growing heat on your cheeks.
he smiles to himself at your cute actions and scoots closer. to when your legs are lightly pressed against the other’s and wraps an arm around your shoulders. bringing you closer to him and guiding your head to rest on his shoulder.
“i love you,” riki repeats again with a proud grin on his face as a fireworks goes off simultaneously.
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covetyou · 6 months ago
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ghosted
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ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: sex toys (satisfyer "glowing ghost"), unprotected P in V, creampie, oral (f receiving), reader loves floor time (so does Joel), angst (but we fix it), some anxiety/depression adjacent things. word count: 5751 summary: As spring moves into summer, the only thing you're wishing for is to be so far from the events of Easter, and Valentine's and Christmas before it, that you could forget and move on. But, by the time the end of May is on the horizon, the time between still isn't enough - You haven't forgotten, and you haven't moved on.
A/N: thank you to everyone still sticking with this sporadic-installment-series-that-was-never-meant-to-be-a-series. our next visit to these two will be 4th July in stars and stripes, but until then, enjoy 💛
(and yes I know I am technically later than planned with this for non Americas folk - I couldn't get the ending to my liking until suddenly I could, and now its gone midnight. whoops!)
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If it was true that time flies when you're having fun, it was safe to say the opposite was true too.
You weren't having fun, and time was well and truly crawling by at a snails pace.
That wasn't for lack of trying. In recent weeks you'd spent more time out of the house than you ever had - lunch with friends, drinks with colleagues, solo trips to bookstores and farmers markets. There was barely a moment of time you hadn't filled with something.
It was probably a shitty coping mechanism, all things considered, but it was the best you had. You couldn't quite bring yourself to confide in anyone your secret shame of letting a stranger into your house and touch you like he belonged there. The even bigger shame of living in a place for so very long and not knowing how the door worked, not knowing the stranger was your neighbor, being so very consumed in your own life - woe is you - that you didn't bother paying attention to the lives of the people around you. So, you kept on willing the passage of time, and filling every moment you could with distractions.
It wasn't that you were usually one for wishing time away. A slow, warm spring before the blazing heat of summer consumed everything would usually be a good thing - even better now that you'd lived and experienced your first Texas summer and were soon to have your second.
What you were really wishing for was to be so far from the events of Easter, and Valentine's and Christmas before it, that you could forget and move on.
As it was, by the time the end of May was on the horizon, the time between still wasn't enough. Almost two months to the day, and it still ached and burned in you just as much as it always had, if not more. The embarrassment and shame of not knowing how to work a fucking lock was one thing, the fear of the danger you'd put yourself in was another. Then there was the sadness, the loss, the unexpected emptiness at losing something you weren't even sure you had to begin with. And then, in more recent weeks, was the longing.
And you didn't want to feel any of it.
When Memorial Day Weekend eventually rolls around, the blossoming heat of summer keeping you indoors, you lie there on your living room floor, a fan blowing not quite cool enough air across your sweaty body until a knock at the door disturbs the patterns your eyes were tracing on the ceiling.
The dimness in your vision doesn't go away, even as you blink away the dust and try to get your eyes to adjust. The sun had set, apparently. It wasn't completely dark just yet, but dark enough to cast the lower level of your home in shadow, and you hadn't even noticed. You technically had plans today - plans that had now gone to shit, much like everything else.
Hauling yourself from the ground, you unlock your door, no thought or care of who could be on the other side of it, because one thing was certain - it wouldn't be Joel. You'd lost hope of that weeks ago. Each time you opened it with a fools hope in your mind, you were instead handed a delivery and told to have a good day as you stared out into the street, disappointed that it was only a clitty-blaster-3000, or a new blender, and not Joel.
You mindlessly pull open the door, expecting to be handed a package you hadn't ordered, or to even see a friendly face coming to pull you out for plans you agreed to but didn't really want to do.
But there he is. Two months later - but not too late, you don't think - and entirely out of the blue. Nervous hands are thrust into his pockets with his thumbs twitching on the outside of his jeans, standing there like he didn't belong here at all, when everything in your body was screaming he's home.
This was far from the first time you'd seen him since March. The first time was barely three days after you pushed him away. April Fools' Day, of all days. Fitting, you thought, given how much of a fucking fool you felt whenever you remembered everything you'd done, and said, and felt. It turns out he was the owner of the truck you'd seen parked in a drive a little way down the street, father to the little girl you'd seen bounding out of that house so many times before. Neither thing made the hurt in your chest any less, and you'd driven past with a lump in your throat and tears in your eyes.
The same happens now, but you fight them back so you can see more clearly as his mouth twitches into a small smile, making you freeze on the spot. Your mind was already blank, but that freezes too, and you stare at him dumbstruck for a moment so long you're certain a flicker of concern dances across his eyes.
And you could close the door in his face, push him out and away just like you did on that day over two months ago, but you don't. As you come back around, finally letting your brain reconnect with the rest of your body, the only thing you can feel is relief and total utter joy at getting to see him up close again.
There's still shame too. That's been simmering low and mellow in you for so long now that it's fused with your bones - you're not sure you'll ever shake it - but it's the least important thing right now as you stand and look at him, more awkward and uncertain than you've ever seen him.
"Hi."
You're surprised it's you who speaks first, given how dry your mouth is all of a sudden, seeing him up close again and looking as good as, if not better, than he ever has.
"Hey," he says, before clearing his throat. "S'good to see you."
It's a voice you didn't want to forget, but apparently damn near almost had, given the way your body reacts to it. Deep and rumbling, with the slow southern drawl trickling down your spine like honey and settling between your thighs - though in all honesty that might just be sweat. It really is hot in here, worse now that you're standing, and the fan is doing absolutely nothing to help. You look a mess too - your hair, your clothes, your life - but he doesn't seem to mind, and you're grateful, because right now this is as good as you've got.
"Wanted to see how you were doin'. Figured we should talk," he says with another soft smile.
Stepping aside, you give him a small nod as you silently invite him into your home for the first time. Which should be funny, given the unknown number of times he's been through this door, but you're not ready to laugh about any of it just yet.
When the door closes behind him, it's soft and gentle, barely audible over the fan blasting warm air at you, and you wonder if it's always like that. If he's always quiet as a mouse, and you always too oblivious to notice - between the two of you, you didn't stand a hope in hell in figuring it all out until it was too late and blew up in your face. Now, here you are, egg on your face, the heat in the room not helping the heat in your cheeks, trying desperately not to send him away when you've just invited him in.
It would be easier if it all still felt like a dream, but it didn't. That had changed.
Joel had never been much of a normal man in your mind. He was more of a fantasy come to life. A fantasy that was slowly building into something more and more real with each encounter. Even now, stood in normal shoes, wearing a normal t-shirt, and even more normal jeans - just Some Guy by anybodies standard - he looks as beautiful and fantastic as ever.
"Wanted to talk to you sooner. Wanted to leave it up to you given - y'know. Everythin'. Didn't want you to think I was just bargin' in all the time when it was convenient for me," he says, this very normal man already making you feel both silly and elated that he was waiting for you as much as you were waiting for him. Obviously you could have gone to him first. You just couldn't do it. You almost had so many times, but the twist of your key in the door would twist something in the pit of your stomach too, and you'd stop before you even made it out the house.
You knew why. It was always the same thing. You didn't want to talk - not ever. You just wanted things to be okay, or not, and go on with your life. It was one of those childish things you had your mom to thank for - she wasn't great at talking about the important thing either.
The difference now was Joel. You wanted to talk to him, you wanted to work out everything with him rather than alone in your head. But prior to the door incident, that wasn't what this was and after - well, fuck - after, it seemed that it could have been like that all along but you were too damn late to do anything about it.
"Know you were angry with me - maybe still are - and I -"
"I wasn't angry with you," you blurt out, already aware of the lie the moment it leaves your lips. Joel is too, and he raises an eyebrow at you. "Okay. Yes. It pissed me off - you pissed me off. Happy?"
"No. Never wanted to piss you off, darlin'," he murmurs in return, and you can see that he means it by the way all of him softens, drooping in defeat at your admission.
"I... You embarrassed me, Joel. I feel embarrassed, okay? I feel like a stupid idiot, and I -"
You can already feel it all coming back. The swirling in your head, and the heat creeping up your chest and down your arms, not helped by this sweltering fucking house. It's like fainting, but instead of blacking out, a white hot rage is ready to ignite in you. And of everything, it's the thing you most never want to feel again. You'd take all the sadness, loss, emptiness, and longing of the last two months a million times over if it means you never have to feel this again.
" - and it makes me angry. And I hate feeling like that, like this, and I just couldn't come talk to you because I feel so stupid."
"Woah, darlin', c'mon now, we both know you ain't stupid."
"I don't know how to work a fucking door, Joel. Do you know how long people have had doors?"
Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes before starting up again, hoping Joel will take the lead and talk for you first, but he doesn't.
"And I thought we were on the same page. That we were both doing the same silly thing, and it was okay that it was silly and fun, because we were both in on the joke. And... I liked seeing you. I liked it when you were here and it just - it just feels like it was a lie, and what I got out of it isn't what you got out of it. And that's okay, but it still feels stupid. I feel like an idiot, and an asshole, and knowing that you knew so much more about me than I knew about you, I just-"
"Do you want to?" he asks. "Do you wanna get to know me? Just gotta say, and it's done. I want you to know about me - I never meant to hide anythin' from you like that. And I don't want you to be mad, and I don't want you to feel embarrassed, cause the way I see it, we both got shit to be embarrassed about. I was breakin' into your house for months, thinkin' I was invited."
You wince a little, and he just smiles, shrugging his broad shoulders that what's done is done, nonchalance easing your anxiety for the first time ever rather than making it worse.
"I used to stand out there in front of your door and talk to your doorbell like you'd talk back to me any minute," Joel says with a laugh. "Course, now I get that you probably ain't got it hooked up. Never did hear the fuckin' thing ring."
Fuck. Right. Yeah, he's got you there. You'd bought it when you moved in, at your mom's insistence, and never got around to connecting it to anything. You figured it just being there would be deterrent enough and, other than visits from Joel, it had been.
He laughs again at your poorly masked grimace, and any other time you'd maybe be infuriated by him finding humor in something you'd been hurting over for weeks. It's not until you meet his eye and see the silliness in it all too - neither of you really did have any hope.
"Right? It's dumb. Not you, not me, it's just dumb. I even used to tell you when I'd be over next, let you know when to expect me. Leave out a key or put the door on the latch if it's okay for me to come by. I thought I was bein' invited in, but I was breakin' in. Shit. You're embarrassed, and I'm a criminal, I guess we're both losers."
Any anger you had is gone in a flash as laughter ripples through your belly and out your throat. In a way, it's all true. Joel was just as fucked as you, had just as much to be embarrassed and fearful about as you. Unknowingly leaving your home vulnerable to intruders is one thing, but being an accidental criminal for months is another.
"I liked it. I... I never knew when you were coming."
"Hey, if that's what gets your rocks off," he says with a wink, and you laugh again. "I ain't one to judge, but we can explore that in safer ways than keepin' a door unlocked day and night."
You both realize what he said the second the word left his lips.
We.
As in us.
As in together.
And you think he might take it back as quick as he said it, but he doesn't. He just looks at you, half fearful that he said the wrong thing, half hopeful that he said the right thing.
"Okay."
With one word he brightens, and you can feel it in you too. Whatever it is is mutual. Has been since the red velvet coat, since the wings, since the bunny ears, and all the spaces in between.
"Yeah? Cause I'd like to start over, if that's okay with you."
"Well, that sounds like a terrible idea," you say bluntly, because honestly you cannot think of anything worse. Joel's slow steps towards you falter for a second as he tries not to let the disappointment in his face show, but you're already smiling. "You can pry Santa, Cupid, and Flopsy from my cold, dead hands."
And his laugh is glorious, cracking open the remnants of the walls you'd put around yourself and letting your bones soak in the warmth of him, just as his arms come to wrap around you, pulling you against his chest. He smells so familiar - that's one thing you know about him. You might not know about his favorite color, or what he likes to eat, or even his daughters name just yet. But you know what he smells like, how his smile lights up his eyes, and how his hands feel on you, anchoring you in place even as you send yourself dizzy breathing him in.
He's going to kiss you too. You know that, and you welcome it, but before he can, you pull back.
"There's so much I want to know, I don't know how I missed so much."
"You get one question before I'm kissin' you."
You think for just a second before looking down to where your fingers curl into his shirt - an old Fleetwood Mac tee, so washed and worn it's like butter beneath your fingers.
With a wry smile, you look up at him from beneath your lashes, unable to hold back the laughter in your voice. "What are you dressed as today? Don't think I know this one, you're usually on theme."
"This? I'm just your plain ol' friendly neighborhood Joel Miller."
His lips are on yours then, pressing a soft kiss into the curve of your mouth, eyes searching yours for one, two, three seconds, before he dives back in, kissing you in earnest, making up for all the in betweens you'd been wishing away.
You wrap yourself around him, clinging to him, damn near wanting to climb up him, as you make out like teenagers in the middle of your living room. His hands wander across your shoulders, down your spine, grasping at any softness he can find along the way until his hands settle - one on your ass, and one gently cupping the back of your neck.
And as you kiss, holding each other close like you were long lost lovers and not whatever this thing between you was, you can't help but think that Joel Miller may just be your favorite Joel yet.
"Now, I got a question for you," he mumbles into your mouth, each word chased by your kisses. You've never wanted to seem desperate before, but right now you don't care, and by the way he's holding you, Joel doesn't mind either.
"Why the fuck do you have a nightlight?"
Shooting him an inquisitive look, you follow his gaze over your shoulder.
There on your counter, little light blinking away, is your very own clitty-blaster-3000, a luminous ghost with its mouth set in a permanent O, glowing brightly in the darkness. Shit. You'd brought it down this morning to charge, needing to keep a watchful eye on it and its janky magnetic charger to make sure it charged fully. You'd totally forgotten about it, and now here it was, glowing like a beacon after being out in the sun all day.
You try to pull away from Joel, but with his arms locked around your body, and his mouth pressing soft whiskered kisses to your neck, you don't have the strength, or the inclination, to move.
"It's not a nightlight, I can go put it away, if you just gimme-"
He tucks you behind him, swatting away your arms as you feebly try to reach around and grab it from him. Truthfully, you quite like the idea of him holding it, using it, but you feel bad that he might not know what it is.
"Not a nightlight, huh?" He says, grabbing the toy from the counter, said charger immediately popping off and clattering to the ground. He inspects it, turning it over in his hands, bringing it so close to his face it casts shadows across his features with its glow. "Oh, I know what this is."
"What is it then, smartass."
"Other than Pac-Man's worst nightmare? It's one of them clitty-blaster-3000 things."
Eyes wide, you double over, cackling and holding desperately onto yourself so you don't totally fall apart in front of him. He laughs with you, though maybe it's a little bit at you too, but you don't mind.
"What?!" he says smiling as he watches you fight to right yourself, gripping his forearm with laugh weakened fingers.
"That's what I call it!"
"Yeah? It good?"
His eyes are burning into yours. You know where this is going, and there's a brief thought that maybe you should stop it, slow things down. But you don't. Instead, you bite your lip and nod, making a noise of confirmation as Joel fiddles with the buttons on the toy.
A second later, it whirrs to life, a gentle throbbing buzz meeting your ears.
Joel puts his thumb over the hole, the suction gently hammering away at his finger tip as he clicks up and up through the intensity until he's well past a level you can use it at.
"Shit, yeah. Can see how that'd feel good."
"I, uhm, like to tease myself with it."
"Yeah?" he says as it clicks back down through the settings and rests on the softest one again. "Is that how you use it? Just to tease yourself?"
"No," you say, gasping a little when he raises the toy to your neck, pressing the mouth of the ghost to you as if pressing a kiss to your skin. "I - I just kinda stick it on there, to be honest. But I go slow with the - with the settings."
Joel clicks up one setting, the gentle thrumming at your neck intensifying a little.
"Yeah? You take your time? Give her what she deserves?"
You forgot what this was like - how easy and good it was to give in to wanting him, and how easy it was to let yourself have him too.
"Mhm."
"Good. Can't say I ain't jealous though. Missed comin' here. Seein' you. Thought about you, thought about comin' to see you but -"
"Thought about you too."
"When you were usin' this?"
You nod, tilting your head to the side and sighing as he glides the tip of the toy across your pulse point, behind your ear, down the column of your throat.
"Can I use it on you?"
You damn near want to tell him he can do whatever the fuck he wants with you, but the words are lost when you nod again and he captures your mouth in another kiss, brutal in its softness as he guides you back to your couch and all the plush cushions you have stacked there. Since Christmas, your home décor skills have definitely improved. Things look a little less bare, the place looks a little more lived in. There's still pictures to hang and empty spaces on shelves to fill, but you know those things will come in time. For now, you're grateful for the comfy place you've made on your sofa as Joel sits you down, guiding you down with strong hands.
Your shorts are quickly pulled off, the toy pulled from your neck so Joel can kiss his own better trail across your flesh. You hold him to you, anchor him into your bosom like he might drift off like a spectre in the night if you don't, but he's as latched to you as you are to him.
And then he's on his knees for you, jeans straining as his cock swells, hands gripping your thighs then pushing your shirt up, exposing you for him. Panties soon follow your shorts, yanked down your legs in a joint effort by your left hand and his right as he can't resist lapping at your mouth, tangling his tongue with yours.
He's everything you tried to forget, and some of the things you did. He's strong, and broad. He's gentle too, and soft - his eyes, mostly, but some other parts of him too. He's silly, and playful, smiling into your mouth and nipping at you, the hand by your thigh teasing the buzzing toy over the delicate skin there and delighting in your shudder.
As he moves it closer, the sounds of the suction against your skin making you both giggle, he moves down, burying his face into your neck and breathing in. You already know that it's never been like this before - that this is something new, just like every other time before had been something new.
"So you just stick it on, huh?"
"Lube. With lube."
His face is between your legs in an instant, licking messily around your clit, not really trying to get you off, just aiming to get you wet. When he pulls back, toy in hand, he raises the glowing toy mouth to his own and licks, smiling at the sound of it suctioning to his tongue.
"That good enough?"
And you nod, giving in to his kisses again before he breathlessly spreads you apart with both hands, looking at your cunt like if he blinks it'll all fade away.
"You know I ain't seen this for three months?"
"You been counting?"
"I missed you," he repeats with a breathless kiss to your thigh. "Missed this."
He lights his way with the glow of the toy rumbling in his hand, pulling back your clit for just one second, barely holding in a groan, before he gently holds the mouth of the ghost to you, pressing until the obscene slurp is muffled by full suction on your clit.
And it's divine, just like it always is, but somehow made even better by the man doing it to you. Fascinated eyes don't stop watching as it hammers air lightly at your clit in a constant rhythm, and the sight alone makes you drip. You're grateful for the heat now, and the sheet you'd covered your velvet sofa with, saving you an undoubtedly messy clean up later.
The toy slips when Joel climbs back off his knees to press his mouth to yours, and the air splutters and ripples past your skin again, as Joel laughs into your mouth.
"The sound of this thing, jesus fuckin' christ. Sounds like you're -"
"Don't. Don't make me laugh, you'll distract me."
"I like it when you laugh," but he's already pressing it flush to your skin again, stopping the sound and sending the ripples directly back to your clit.
"Ohh, f- "
"That's it," he says, watching as your hips rock ever so slightly into the throbbing toy sucking away on your clit. "Fuck, that's it. Lettin' me get you off with this thing."
"Think I can get some fingers in and keep this right where you need it?"
"Mm."
"Yeah?" he says, swiping at your entrance with his middle fingers, carefully holding the toy in place with his palm. "Just like that. There we go. Right in there. Fuck, I missed this. Missed bein' in here."
"Fuck."
"That's it. You come on 'em. Wanna feel it."
"Joel, down. Move it down. Ple- ah."
"There?"
"Right there," you sigh, panting and barely making it through the words before your eyes snap shut.
And then Joel is in your ear, his breath fanning against you, cooling you for a second even as his fingers stoke the fire raging in your core.
"You're fuckin' beautiful," he murmurs, and you just know he's looking down at you, the picture of a perfect mess. A sheen of sweat on your skin, lips swollen and parted as you gasp, thighs spread wide, hips rocking into Joel's illuminated palm, t-shirt rucked high over your hips, hands on your tits, nipples pinched between your own fingers, moaning, panting, coming.
You twitch in his arms, burying your head in his neck and breathing deep. Something about the position you're in can keep it going longer, can keep that thrumming pressure on your clit right where it is, past your usual limit, dragging your orgasm on and on until you're gasping Joel's name.
He gingerly pulls the glowing toy off of you - its brightness dimmed only slightly since you lost sight of it between your legs - fiddling with buttons until he gives in and throws it to the side to run his hands over you.
With a light kisses to your parted lips, he apologizes, giving you softly muttered sorrys for ever upsetting you, for taking so long to come talk to you, and before you can return the sentiment, he sends you laughing again.
"And I'm sorry for breakin' into your house. Accidentally."
Your laughter makes him shift, and his face contorts as he gasps in discomfort.
"Fuckin' jeans. Pinchin'," is all he says, as he tries to adjust himself. You can see his zipper strain with the weight of his cock, stiff and unattended, behind the thick fabric.
"Take 'em off."
"Came here for you, not me."
"And if I want you to come for me?"
Joel blinks.
"Then I'm takin' my damn pants off," he says, taking his pants off. He sighs in relief when the pressure on his cock is released, groans when your hand palms him over the damp fabric, gasps into your mouth when you slip your fingers beneath his waistband, finding his cock slick and wet with precum, curses into your hair when you lick the salty taste of him from your fingers.
Tugging his boxers down a little more, his cock springs free, slapping his wet tip against his belly. In a blink you're on him, pulling off his shirt as you go to suck wet kisses into his neck, his chest, and letting your fingers toy with his nipples and the other feel down past his boxers, cupping his balls and rolling your thumb across the sensitive flesh before he pushes up into you.
He's solid. You're surprised he didn't come in his pants with how firm he feels slipping against your cunt. You meet his thrust, grinding down into his solid length, trying to hold your own shirt up so you can see the tip of his cock as he ruts against you.
"Does that feel good?"
"Fu - yeah. Y'always feel good."
"Y'know what would feel better," you whisper, scratching gently down his chest and watching goosebumps prickle his skin. With a shift of your hips, his next thrust pushes in, just slightly, before popping out and grinding into your clit again. His next thrust - slower, firmer - notches against your entrance and pushes in, Joel's hands on your ass dragging you down, until you're seated to the root of him.
It's a stretch. It always was. But over three months, and a decline in solo sessions, made it even more so.
Still, even through the stretch, you rock against him, looking into the eyes of Joel Miller, the normal, every day guy who lives down your street, and smile at it all, and the look on his face that says he couldn't be luckier.
"Said I wanted you to come, didn't I?"
And you meant it. You show him how much you mean it as you start to ride him, lifting higher and higher off of him before pushing back down. Your thighs clap against his, wet with sweat and slipping together with each movement, echoing around your living room.
It doesn't last long. It can't. It's too fucking hot, and you're woefully out of practice as the stretch in your pussy turns into a burn in your legs. You can see Joel's face start to pinch and contort, looking between your face, your bouncing tits, and the slip of his cock in and out of you, barely visible in the shadows.
But you can't keep going. You'll pass out if you do. Joel's hands register what you're doing before his face does, gripping tighter and holding you down on him, before his mouth opens in a gasp, his head falling back after losing something he was so close to getting.
You barely pull in a breath of warm air before Joel is dragging you down, flipping you unceremoniously onto your back on the floor.
It's cooler down here, even with Joel's body over yours. It's why you were on the floor to begin with, before he came back, before you let him back in. Joel fumbles against you, the sweat on your body acting more like a full body lube at this point, before he slides back in, knocking the air out of you as he fills you all over again.
Even though his knees will be bruised in the morning and your back will ache, he pounds into you, gripping your shirt and pulling you down with each thrust.
And it's just so fucking good you can't help but practically scream as he fucks you, moaning loudly into his ear as he groans and pants and swears into yours. Your fingers can't find purchase against his back, even as you desperately claw at him. There's too much sweat - it's too fucking hot in here - but you wouldn't change any of the desperate mess that you find yourselves in here on the floor.
He's growling, balls slapping against you, fucking you so hard you have to throw a hand out to hold onto the couch.
"I'm gonna - fuck - look at me. Look. Fuck. Fuck."
He presses in then, spurting deep in you, stealing the air from your mouth, and you from his, as you gasp and groan with each shallow thrust of his hips.
When he pulls out, hands going from bruising grip to gentle strokes, he rolls off of you, his back slapping wetly against the ground just as your pussy makes its own equally wet sound. And you laugh, because it's silly, just like it always has been, with or without a costume or a name that's not quite his own to go with it. Joel chuckles along with you, content and dozy from his orgasm, the evidence of it trickling out of you and making a mess of your floor as your stomach contracts with laughter.
The house cools down in the darkness - not much, but enough. Your hands find each other again too, and you each dance small patterns across each others skin until words come back to you.
You talk there on the floor, sweat drying on your skin, until the rumble of your stomach becomes too distracting to continue. You learn his favorite color, what he does for a living, his daughters name. You even learn the exact make and model of his truck, something you immediately forget.
And when he tries to excuse himself, too frightened of overstaying his welcome, you invite him to stay, and Joel Miller, the best Joel you've ever met, says yes.
next part
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love-that-we-were-in · 7 months ago
Text
pretty as a vine (sweet as a grape)
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pairing: luke castellan x reader summary: luke castellan might be everyone's favorite councilor over the summer. he might be a little too sweet for you in the fall. word count: 1.7k warnings: none
authors note: thank you to @wlntrsldler for letting me steal this concept from you even if making luke a real tried and true loser was a struggle. hope y'all enjoy!!
It was rare to see Camp Half-Blood’s golden boy without his signature smile on his face; always ready to help, always ready to please. 
You’d only had a handful of conversations with Luke Castellan, passing words in the height of hectic summer heat. Most of them in the middle of the night, when all the campers should be tucked away in the cabins, but you’d take the brief moments of quiet to wander the grounds with a lit cigarette hanging off your lips. 
Luke would approach you every time, always the same way, a pink flush on his cheeks and a quiet, timid voice telling you that he had to enforce the rules, that he had to send you back to your cabin because it was past curfew.
You’d roll your eyes, lick your lips, wave the smoke obscuring your view of him away playfully and promise to head back after this one. He’d nod and walk away, and you’d pretend not to notice his silhouette hidden behind one of the trees, not quite obscured enough by the lack of lighting to go wholly unnoticed, waiting for you to make your way back to where you’re supposed to be. 
He was sweet, too sweet, sometimes. Making sure you were safe, that nothing bad would happen to you even after taking his supposed leave. It was cute, really, how he acted around you underneath the starlight, always so nervous and flustered, like he’d never seen a woman before. You supposed, confined to the parameters of camp for so many years, he really hadn’t seen many of them.
It’s something you carry with you this year, watching as summer fades into fall, how camp suddenly empties. You’re not sure what to make of it, how still everything seems now, how the usual noise dampens into almost nothing and you itch for the hurriedness of July to return. 
You’re lucky, really, to have spent so long exploring the world beyond camp, seeing what growing up had to offer as if it were normal. A lot of the kids you see now, they haven’t experienced a half of what you have, trading high school for battling dragons at someone else’s request, and it shows each year like clockwork. 
If you’re honest, hidden behind the treeline near the lake, camp makes you uneasy like this. Less busy, less extreme - walking the thin line between a place to train and a place to live - and it has you more on edge than before. It could be that you’ve grown accustomed to the bustle of the Boston streets. It might just be that Luke has been hiding just beyond view since you lit your cigarette.
“I know, I know,” you say when he finally approaches. He stumbles, familiar flush blotching the skin of his neck, climbing the tips of his ears. “Just let me finish this one.” 
He nods and you wait for him to walk away, follow his usual path back into the forest. He doesn’t, standing on the damp grass nearby without saying a word, and you look at him again. 
You’re used to seeing Luke Castellan in different forms - it’s part of how he lives. Nervous and unsure and so confident with a sword that it’s a little insane that he’s the same person during training as is standing in front of you now. 
He’s got this little dip to his shoulders, fingers tapping against his own thigh as you stare at him. His curls are slightly longer than when summer started, curling around his ears and resting just above his brows. He’s got a sweatshirt on, dark green and oversized, and his teeth sink into his bottom lip the longer you take to look away. 
“You can head back,” you say eventually, flicking ash to the ground at your feet. “I promise to be good and go straight to bed.” 
It’s not meant to be anything, merely an assurance. But there’s this way Luke reacts to it, how his fingers stop tapping in favor of clenching his first, how he breathes deeper for a few breaths, how he swallows around nothing, that ignites something under your skin. Makes you want to push that little bit further. 
“You really need to stop coming out after curfew,” he mumbles in the end, tucking his hands into the front pocket of his sweater. It’s soft and a little warm and you wonder if it’s the humidity or Luke himself that’s responsible. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
“You’re sweet, Castellan,” you crush the butt of your cigarette out, brushing past him to start the trek back to your cabin. “It’s kind of adorable.” 
You hear him suck in a breath. You don’t hear his footsteps directly behind you as you walk through the foliage. You kind of wish you’d turned around to see the blush rise on his cheeks. 
Maybe you will next time.
*
Next time doesn’t come for weeks. It gives you space to observe Luke now, when he’s being pulled in fewer directions, when there’s lower expectations. You learn that neither of those things exist where Luke is concerned; that he has this inability to not be helpful, to not put himself forward when no one else will. He somehow takes up more responsibilities as fall gets underway, smiling wide when you know you’d be stretched thin. 
It’s admirable, to a point, and you want to know how he does it.
A few years ago, you convinced yourself Luke was only on when the sun shone brightest. Watching him demonstrate a throw to a young Athena kid, you think he might be the sun itself. 
“Nice arm,” is what you greet him with when the little girl runs off, ball in hand. He pauses his hands where they rest on the fabric of his pants, still slightly bent at the knees from helping and lips parted as he glances up at you. “She seemed happy.” 
“She just needed some help with the technique.”
He shrugs and stands to actually face you. 
Mid-afternoon at camp has never really sat well with you. Always slower, sun burning and campers left to fill their own time before dinner. You’ve never really known what to do with it; Luke squints at the grounds before you as if he’s searching for who needs him next.
“Do you ever take a break?” Is what you say when the silence drags on for too long. 
Luke blinks, lips parting. A group of Hephaestus kids laugh from down by the lake. You wait. 
“I go to bed at midnight.”
“And what time do you wake up?” You kick at the grass below your feet, taking in how Luke stumbles for an answer, brown eyes darting each way as if it’ll fall from the sky. 
“The apollo kids really love watching the sunrise,” he chokes out in the end, digging his hands into his pockets. You wonder if he thinks it makes his nerves less obvious. “It’s a really nice sunrise.” 
“Come watch it with me tomorrow.”
You say it partly for the reaction itself. That same quick breath Luke takes each time you say something that shocks him, the red tint to his cheeks, the tip of his nose, the harsh movement of his adams’ apple. You kind of also really want to see how Luke Castellan changes between day and night - if it’s a version of him you just haven’t read yet. 
You don’t mention that you’ll have to force yourself out of bed, unused to early rising. 
He nods, three quick nods like he thinks you’ll take it back if he’s not enthusiastic enough. 
You smile then. “I’ll see you later, Luke.”
*
He meets you where he usually does, further north than anyone tends to go at any hour, let alone this early. There’s less hesitation to his steps than a few nights ago, your invitation dangling between you both something like a promise. 
“I’m not gonna bite,” you say when he stops just short of the rock you’ve claimed. You glance over at where he’s just feet away, bright orange camp tee peeking out from his grey hoodie. “It’s too early for that.”
“Oh.” 
There’s some shuffling before Luke is perching himself on the stone next to you. He’s close enough to touch from here, the makeshift seat just barely big enough for two people to share, and you take in how he tucks his hands into his pockets, makes himself take up as little room as possible. 
Outside of his swordsmanship, you’ve never seen Luke take up much space at all.
“This is nice,” he says eventually, the sun starting to peer over the lake. 
There’s something almost beautiful about what the sunrise does for him, you realise. Neither of you have moved, Luke’s gaze still locked on the horizon, but you’ve transferred your attention to him. You’ve seen the lake enough times. You’ve never seen Luke Castellan’s chest rising and falling with each steady breath, or the way his eyes turn a little gold when the sun hits them just right. How he relaxes in the autumn chill.
“You’re really pretty, Luke.”
It slips past your lips before it fully forms in your mind. His head snaps to the side, cheeks flushing and lips parted. You hadn’t meant to say it, too caught up in the slow start to the morning, but it’s out there and you don’t want to take it back.
“Such a pretty boy,” you mutter, shaking your head. 
“I-“ Luke starts, before clearing his throat. You see his hands twitch in his pockets. “What?” 
You twist on the rock underneath you, lifting your legs so they’re crossed, knees brushing the edge of Luke’s thigh. His eyes drop at the movement.
This should feel weird at camp. You’d fallen into the habit of flirting back in Boston, something to fill the gaps and score you a cigarette when you really needed help to get them. Never like this though - like the moment was delicate and its shattering was solely in your hands. 
The ability to shatter Luke Castellan, Camp Half-Blood’s golden boy, rests on your shoulders in an early sunrise.
When his breath hitches as you push yourself closer, you think you’d like to watch him shatter in the sunlight. 
Pretty doesn’t even come close when it happens.
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ohbueckers · 2 months ago
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TWO CAN PLAY THAT GAME. i just wanna get to know you, guess i didn’t quite think it through.
CHAPTER TWO! pairing, paige bueckers x fem!oc. notes, thank you guys for all the love on the first part!!! it only made me more excited for this rollercoaster fr... here’s part two 🫦 not proofread… warnings, injury and the angst with that!
july, 2022
it had been a few weeks since sana’s first practice, and things had shifted between her and paige—though not entirely for the better or worse.
the sun had been setting over the outdoor court. it was one of those perfect summer nights where the heat had finally loosened its grip and mellowed to something more bearable. the team had migrated outside because the gym’s ac was busted, and this hangout—just a casual run, really—felt different. lighter. less pressure.
azzi had brought a speaker, blasting music that set the tone for the evening. most of the girls had left to grab pizza and bring it back, but a few stayed behind, shooting around, lounging on the benches, laughing and talking.
sana had blended in perfectly with the huskies these past few weeks, getting along especially well with nika, azzi, and caroline. nika, in particular, had taken a liking to her no-nonsense attitude, and let’s just say practice was a pain in the ass for their coaches when they weren’t entirely focused. when nika made a joke, sana was always there to back it up, making it ten times funnier. you can also say that paige caught most of these strays.
the rest of the team seemed to quickly hop on the sana train themselves. she was a perfectionist in a way that wasn’t overbearing, and it was why her game was so good in the first place. she made everyone around her better by just being herself, and it showed. but even so, she’d built rapport with most of them, save for one notable exception.
paige bueckers, of course.
paige, who had spent the last few weeks vacillating between subtle irritation and begrudging respect when it came to sana. there were moments where she’d find herself looking and wondering why she couldn’t just relax, couldn’t just click with her the way she did with everyone else. if it wasn’t exactly hate, then what was it?
they weren’t at each other’s throats, in fact, the first day of practice was probably as hostile as it had ever gotten between them. sana was mature enough to the point where she wouldn’t let it get that far, but always pushed it borderline to the edge. every interaction was like a test, some back-and-fourth exchange that only left paige to think what the fuck sana even meant by what she’d just said, because she swore there was some bigger meaning.
the first few weeks had been like that. testing boundaries. sana with her measured responses, and paige with her quick retorts and lingering glances in which she always denied, kinda like right now.
paige was standing near the sideline, pretending to dribble aimlessly while keeping a very subtle eye on sana, who had moved to grab a drink of water at the other end of the court. it was unintentional—at least that’s what she told herself—but her eyes always seemed to find their way back to her, no matter where she was.
the blonde found herself noticing other things, things she had no business noticing for the amount of times she’s actually had a conversation with the girl that didn’t include some type of jab. the way sana’s smile tilted just a bit when she was being sarcastic, the way her eyes narrowed slightly when she was focused. paige hated that she noticed those things—hated that sana was in her head at all.
nika, who had been watching the whole thing with a growing smirk, sauntered over to paige, draping an arm over her shoulders. “you know, if you’re gonna keep staring, at least make it less obvious.”
paige elbowed her in the side, pushing the brunette off of her with a smug smirk. “you can shut up.”
nika stumbled back dramatically, clutching her side as if paige had actually hurt her. “damn, alright!” she laughed, tossing her ponytail behind her head. “but seriously, i thought this was just a first day thing. shouldn’t the transfer aftershock be well over by now?”
paige rolled her eyes, licking her lips as more of a habit than necessity as she began dribbling the basketball again. she kept her head down, focusing on the sound against the pavement as she passed from hand to hand, sliding the ball between her legs a few times too. “there’s nothing to get over.”
“sure, sure,” nika said, her grin wide, as if she didn’t believe a single word. her eyes flicked between paige and the far end of the court, where sana had just finished downing half a water bottle, her shoulders rising and falling. she then looked at azzi, who had been making her way back over from messing with the songs on her playlist.
of course her best friend had noticed too.
“wait, what are we talking about? paige and sana?” azzi threw out as if she’d been dying to talk about it for a hot minute. “because you have got a terrible poker face,” the curly-haired girl pointed at paige, the comment sending nika into a fit of snickers that had her hunching over.
paige’s head whipped to her. “nah, you can chill too,” she said, pointing at azzi with mock exasperation. “and it’s not that funny,” paige deadpanned, although she couldn’t bite back her smirk for the life of her.
nika straightened up, giving paige a faux serious look as she tilted her head back thoughtfully. “okay, sure you don’t wanna tell her how good she looks in navy?”
and well, it only made the blonde more upset that she did indeed look too good in that damn navy workout tee.
“i ain’t even lookin’ at her like that,” paige said, too defensive way too quickly. she punctuated her response with a cheesy grin, the type she used to play it cool while her insides were knotting up.
“really? cause you’ve got that whole wistful longing look on lock down.” nika gave her a look herself, a long one that made the blonde semi-uncomfortable. the brunette was reading her to filth, but paige had came to the conclusion awhile ago that nothing could happen if the feelings weren’t reciprocated. nothing would happen.
“wistful?” paige stared, shaking her head. “she hates me.”
nika raised her eyebrows, jerking her head back. “oh! so you’re saying you’d crush if she didn’t hate you?”
paige huffed out a laugh, scrunching her face up as she let the ball roll to a stop under her foot. “crush is actually crazy, nika.”
“eh, not entirely,” azzi chimed in, her eyes gleaming with that ‘i see you’ look. nika practically jumped for joy at the backup, like it was a victory to have someone else on her side. clearly, she wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.
paige groaned internally, feeling cornered and slightly taken aback. “y’all think i have no self-control? we’re teammates.”
nika crossed her arms, smirking. “i’m praying that you do.”
paige paused for a second, brain tripping over nika’s words. that’s what everyone thought, right? that they were just teammates, that the line couldn’t be crossed. she kept telling herself that too—telling herself that all these games, all the heat, and tension between her and sana would eventually fizzle out because it had to. because it was supposed to.
“let’s be real for a second,” azzi said, looking down as she searched for the right words. she had a ball tucked underneath her arm. “if anything did happen between y’all—and i’m not saying it will—” she shot paige a pointed look, one that told her to not get defensive and cut her off. “—it’d throw the whole team off balance.”
“i know!” the blonde cut in, her voice sharper than she meant it to be. “but that’s not even on the table. nothing’s gonna happen.” she felt like she was convincing herself more than anyone else.
nika shrugged. “i mean, you say that now, but feelings are weird. and they don’t care about what’s allowed.”
paige stayed quiet for a second, turning over the idea. they don’t care about what’s allowed. feelings don’t care about what you’ve got going on, they just seep their way in.
she knew the rules, of course—both the ones the coaching staff had laid out and the unspoken ones. she couldn’t let this thing, whatever it was, turn into more. it wasn’t just about her or sana. it was about the team. the season. the future. the problem was that knowing that didn’t make the tension between them any less real. or maybe it was all in her head.
they don’t care about what’s allowed.
just as paige was about to respond, sana, oblivious—or pretending to be—was making her way back over to the group, the lazy saunter in her step practically designed to test paige’s patience. she straightened up instinctively, breathing in all straight-faced as she leaned over to pick up the ball from the ground.
“i brought friends,” she announced, caroline and ice stalking behind her. “what are you guys so serious about?” sana then asked, her eyes shifting between nika and azzi before landing on paige, as if her comment was more directed at the blonde. the question felt a little too casual, like sana had noticed how much less at ease paige was compared to just a few moments ago before she’d left.
“uh,” paige cleared her throat, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, feeling uncharacteristically off-balance. “we were just…talkin’ about the team.”
nika stared at her friend in actual disbelief. she was stuttering, and normally she’d jump to make fun of her for it, but she wanted to observe how this would play out. her answer was vague, sure, but it was the best she could come up with on the spot. paige wasn’t used to being caught off guard, especially not by sana. their interactions—when they did happen—were usually trash talk that was easy to brush off in the moment but lingered with her long after. but right now, there was something about sana’s direct attention that had her fumbling.
meanwhile, sana caught the hesitation in paige’s voice. she tilted her head ever so slightly, her smirk growing a little wider. paige stuttering? that was a first.
paige never stuttered.
ice broke the brief silence with a laugh. “are we playin’ or what?”
paige, determined to regain her footing, grinned and stepped back, dribbling the ball lazily between her legs as she walked backward. her eyes stayed locked on sana’s, her confidence slowly returning. “we’ll start,” she said, her voice a little lower now, challenging. “just don’t be mad when i drop 30 on you.”
sana’s smirk didn’t falter. she strolled closer, her hands clasped behind her back. “oh, you think you’re actually gonna score on me? i didn’t even know you had jokes like that.”
paige scrunched her face up, half from the setting sun taking over her eyesight, and half in disbelief. “i got more than just jokes,” she shot back, continuing to walk backward, her grin widening as she bounced the ball from hand to hand. “you ready to see?”
“i’m ready for you to see,” sana countered. her eyes moved down to the ball for a second before rising to meet paige’s again. then maybe to her perfectly parted pink lips, but then to her eyes again. “you’ll be the one sitting down after this.”
azzi, watching the scene unfold alongside everyone else, couldn’t hold back any longer. “double meaning,” she muttered under her breath, making nika nearly lose it beside her, biting her lip to keep from laughing too loudly.
sana’s gaze briefly moved toward azzi, catching the comment even though it was quiet. for a split second, her confident smirk faltered, and she narrowed her eyes at paige. “what were you talking about before i came back?” she asked, and the blonde should’ve known sana of all people would ask even if she had the slightest feeling it was about her. she was confrontational.
paige felt the shift immediately, recognizing that azzi’s offhand comment had landed. but instead of backing down, she kept her cool, though her heart was beating a little faster. “nothin’ you can’t handle,” she replied, her tone smug as she kept dribbling.
sana paused, tilting her head as she always did as if she was trying to piece everything together. “you guys talking about me?”
paige hesitated for half a second, barely noticeable to anyone except herself. “paranoid?”
“curious.”
paige licked her lips, holding her ground. “i said it was nothin’ you can’t handle, remember?”
sana’s smirk shifted, becoming a little sharper as she moved just close enough to make her presence felt. “right,” she said slowly, as if she didn’t believe her. “just wondering if i’m that interesting.”
the blonde’s eyes narrowed, fingers tightening around the basketball. “only when you talk too much.” she smiled, a wide one that left sana actually laughing as she pushed at her shoulder with two hands.
“shut up.”
paige stumbled back slightly, more out of performance than anything else, her grin never faltering. “you love to hate me, don’t you?”
sana blinked, clearly thrown, and for a moment paige had thought she’d pushed too far. crossed some invisible line she couldn’t quite see. but what she wasn’t ready for was the simple, almost quiet reply that followed. in fact, sana cursed herself for how vulnerable she sounded, that her mind felt the need to make it known to paige.
“i don’t hate you.”
and well, paige was thrown too.
august, 2022
you could’ve asked paige bueckers two weeks ago where she’d be today, right now, and it would be nowhere along the lines of sitting hopelessly in her bed with a torn acl injury. two weeks ago, she was at practice, thinking about championships, the first game all the way in november, and how invincible they’d be this season. two weeks ago, everything made sense.
now, nothing did.
she stared at the ceiling, the weight of the brace on her knee acting like a reminder she couldn’t shake off. the ache wasn’t just physical—it was deep, gnawing at her, like she’d lost a part of herself. this wasn’t supposed to happen. not to her. and now, she couldn’t even walk without wincing.
her phone vibrated with a text from her mom, the same encouraging words she’d gotten since the surgery: “you’re strong, paige. you’ll get through this.”
she knew her family meant well, but the truth was, they weren’t here. they weren’t the ones stuck in this room, feeling like the walls were closing in. they weren’t the ones who had to deal with the brutal reality of an injury that would change everything. they came through, sure—reassured her, gave her hugs, gifts, and pep talks, but then they left. they had lives to return to, jobs, obligations. paige was left here, marooned on campus, staring at a future she couldn’t control.
she hadn’t even been able to bring herself to watch the replay of the moment it happened. the wrong landing, the sharp twist, the way she knew immediately that something was off. the doctor’s words played on a loop in her head: “it’s a torn acl, paige. you’re gonna need surgery.” it was like they were speaking in slow motion, but time sped up so quickly after that. surgery dates just days after, recovery plans, the end of everything she’d been working for—at least for the season, maybe more.
how did this happen so fast?
she let out a breath, reaching for the bottle of water on her bedside table. caroline had been a constant, at least. she’d stuck around, even when she could’ve gone home to her family, to summer plans that didn’t involve taking care of her friend. the blonde was grateful, but there was a part of her that felt…resentful. she didn’t want to be anyone’s burden, and yet, here she was.
the door creaked open, and paige looked up, expecting caroline to walk in with her usual easy smile. but it wasn’t caroline.
it was sana.
paige’s brows furrowed. she didn’t expect to see her until practices started up again, let alone here, on campus, in the middle of summer. her hair was braided into two neat french braids, her skin glowing like she hadn’t just been dealing with whatever hell life had thrown at her.
“sana… what’re you doing here?” paige asked, more bluntly than she intended. there was a part of her that didn’t trust this—sana showing up out of nowhere, like she cared. she’d checked in alongside the rest of the team, yes, but to show up? it was an entirely different story.
sana shrugged, her usual confidence slightly muted. “i thought i’d check in.” she didn’t sit down, didn’t drop her bag. she lingered near the doorway, like she wasn’t sure if she should stay.
paige stared at her, suddenly a little self-conscious that sana had been seeing her like this, her knee propped up on a stack of pillows caroline had set up for her. she didn’t know why. “thought you’d be enjoying your summer.”
sana’s jaw tightened, her eyes flickering for just a second before she shrugged again, more casually this time. “not much to enjoy back home.”
paige felt that. but she wasn’t about to let her guard down just because sana had decided to play the good teammate card. “what, your family didn’t want you back?” she asked, half-joking, half-serious.
sana’s expression faltered for a fraction of a second, and paige caught it. ah, she thought. there it was—something deeper. something that made her just as messed up inside as paige felt right now.
“they weren’t exactly throwing a party for my return,” sana said, leaning against the wall now, arms crossed over her chest. she avoided eye contact, and paige suddenly felt like an asshole for pressing.
“everybody’s got their shit right now then, huh?” paige muttered, sighing as she leaned back against the her headboard.
sana glanced at her, a small smirk playing on her lips, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “yeah, something like that.” she finally moved from the doorway, settling on the chair across the room. there was still distance between them, but it was the closest they’d ever gotten to having a multi-layered conversation, something that unlocked all of the fronts sana had put up.
paige shifted slightly, watching her. the tension between them, however, was still there—longing, unspoken things neither of them seemed ready to admit, but for once, it felt like they weren’t playing a game. paige didn’t know if she could handle another layer of uncertainty in her life right now, but this? it felt different. on the other hand, she couldn’t shake the feeling that sana was here out of obligation rather than choice.
“why’d you really come?” paige asked, her voice softer now.
sana met her eyes, a set of absolutely exhausted blue hues. “i know we’re not exactly best friends, but it felt like the right thing to do,” she huffed out.
paige couldn’t help but smirk, and sana had seen that look before. she furrowed her eyebrows, already sensing the shift. “what?” she asked, her hands gesturing in a way that made it clear she wasn’t about to play along with whatever paige was thinking.
her smirk widened. “who knew all it would take is me getting injured for you to stop hating me.”
sana’s reaction was immediate. her lips parted slightly, and she gave a little shake of her head, almost as if she couldn’t believe the words had just come out of paige’s mouth. “i told you i didn’t hate you, p. i’ve never hated you.” the words came out firm, but not defensive.
“you do know you act like it though, right?” she was almost pleading for honesty at this point. “before your transfer. you never even looked my way.”
sana blinked, her posture stiffening slightly. it wasn’t like paige to push like this, to dig beneath the surface. and she definitely hadn’t expected to come here and admit so much, but maybe all they needed was to be sat down in a room together. no noise, no basketball. still, sana couldn’t help the way her defenses rose instinctively. “i didn’t have to look your way,” she said, but there was no bite to her words. it was more of an explanation, a little tired and raw. “everyone already was.”
paige didn’t move, just blinked. “except you.”
sana opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out at first. she wasn’t sure how to explain it—to put into words why she had kept her distance. why she acted like paige didn’t exist, like she wasn’t the one person who’d always gotten under her skin without even trying.
“i don’t know,” sana finally admitted. “i guess… i didn’t want to.”
paige raised an eyebrow. “didn’t want to?”
she let out a breath, leaning forward slightly as if the weight of her thoughts was too much to bear while sitting back. “i’m just competitive. i push myself hard, and you’re one of the best. it’s not hate; it’s just… i don’t know. maybe i was trying to keep up with you.”
sana caruso had said she didn’t know two times practically within the same breath. for the first time, she’d seen the girl actually be unsure of something, unsure about her.
“and i’ve never hated you,” sana repeated, locking eyes with paige as if she needed her to really feel it. “i admire you, actually.”
was this real life?
“i guess i always thought you were untouchable,” paige confessed, mainly because it felt right. “like, you had everything figured out. and here i am, sitting on the sidelines while you about to be out there thriving.” she could’ve chuckled at the thought.
sana shook her head, the playful bravado she usually wore like armor slipping away. “you have no idea how often i felt like i was just pretending. like i was always one mistake away from everyone realizing i wasn’t as good as they thought.”
for a moment, paige didn’t know what to say. it was almost laughable—how similar they were in all the ways that mattered, but neither of them had seen it until now.
“i get that,” she finally said, her voice stripped of its usual humor. “i get it more than you think. i feel like i’ve already made that mistake.”
sana’s eyes softened, and there was an understanding that hadn’t been there before. and for the first time in what felt like forever, paige didn’t feel so alone. she felt seen. by sana, of all people.
“you’ll be back on the court before you know it,” sana said, her voice a little brighter now. she could tell paige had been getting in her head about the injury again, and although she hadn’t experienced something as life-changing as that, she could be there for her. “i can’t wait to see you kick everyone’s ass again.”
paige let out a breath, a laugh breaking through her chest, light but full of relief. “and you’re gonna get our team that chip.”
and sana smiled. at paige.
our team.
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago
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Someone New 6
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.
Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor
Note: Thanks as usual for reading.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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Things don’t become comfortable, but familiar. You get into a routine, one which smears the days and nights into the other. The landscape helps with that. The sun is fleeting, even in July. The days are longer but it’s not anywhere as stifling or humid as New York. Like everything else, it’s different. 
The man at the fish place, Frederik, knows your name. His wife, Inga too. When you walk in the door, they put your order to fry before you even get to the counter. They’re friendly and warm. It’s nice to have some smiling faces when you can hardly muster the same.  
They like to ask you about New York; they’re finally planning a big trip to America after twenty-five years together. They remind you of Marigold and her bakery. You long for one of her eclairs and her chatty demeanour. Just another thing to miss. 
As you sit down at a table near the window to eat in, your phone goes off. You answer as you read Sam’s name across the screen. He’s the only one you’ve talked to in the last month. Nearly two now. August is close. 
“Yo, yo, girly pop,” he sings from the other end. 
“Girly pop? Sam,” you chide as you hover a thick cut fry before your mouth. 
“Chicky poo, nope. Girly pop, nope. I’ll get there,” he teases, “finally got a hold of you.” 
“Uh, yeah, the site is far. No signal,” you shrug and take a bite. 
“I know, I'm just needy,” he kids. “So, you hitting the spa? Summer’s going fast.” 
“Not yet,” you swallow. “Sam, there’s a lot of work here and it’s just me. The only help I get is from a local student volunteer and they do three hours a week.” 
“Oof, why does your work sound so boring?” He groans 
“Hey!” 
“Well, I mean, digging up dirt all day, tell me you’re not going mad. You making friends? No one to cool, I hope. I’m still your number one guy.” 
“Not really. It’s tough. Long hours. I don’t know,” you stare out the window as you toy with the bamboo fork.  
“If you were going to hide all day in a hovel, you could’ve stayed in New York,” he sighs. 
“Sam, I’m trying. Really. It’s... It’s going to take some time.” 
“Right,” he agrees grimly. “Time. A year is not that long.”  
You hum and lean back in the chair. You’re not as hungry as you were. You close up the container and stand. 
“I know, alright?” You sniff as you tidy the table and grab your food, “but this isn’t a vacation.” 
“It’s also not a missionary trip,” he retorts. “I’m not tryna be a dick here, I’m helping. You need this.” 
You push out into the street and cluck. Silence. You don’t know what to say. He’s right and just like ever day, the conversation is the same. Over and over. It’s going to drive you crazy. 
“More sunlight this time of year, good for work--” 
“No more work talk,” he interjects, “if you don’t got anything fun going on, I'll just have to make you jealous. Some good old fashioned FOMO. Hm, me and Bucky went to Jersey.” 
“Jersey? Why?” You take the bait, happy for the distraction. 
“Oh, yeah, I told him there was a vintage bike for sale there.” 
“You told him that but...” 
“There wasn’t. I just wanted to see him interact with the locals. The old ladies love him but the men... well, I think he might have a warrant out now.” 
“No, Sam, what the hell?” You exclaim as you stroll along. “Are you trying to get him killed?” 
“Hey, I got his back. Just like I got yours. It was just a prank.” 
“Wait, Sam, where exactly did you take him in Jersey?” 
“Some cribbage club, I don’t know. I saw a page for it online. Thought he’d fit in--” 
“They were old?” 
“They match his energy,” he snorts. 
You can’t help but laugh. It feels good. Just that little bit of home. Your amusement is dampened as your heart sinks. You really were so stupid. You didn’t see what you had all around you; Bucky, Sam, more than just Steve. Now it’s all behind you and going back won’t be the same as before. 
💟
There’s tension in the air. It’s going to rain. You suspect your day will be cut short by the gathering clouds but your persist. No use in running. Again. 
The last time you left in fear of a storm, it waited until the next day. So you sit, boots set in the dirty, hunched over as you carefully trace out the strange lump. It’s more than sediment. Bone but not a skeleton. Likely animal and bent into some tool. You have to be delicate. It’s not like the movies, you can’t just dig your hand in and rip it out. 
Your earbud drones as a retro R&B playlist keeps your mind at focus. You wipe your forehead with the back of your glove, feeling the flecks of dirt cling to your skin. You ignore it and press on. Just a little more, a little more. 
It’s bigger than you expect. Just as you think it might come free, you find it goes further down. You can make out the jagged break and the hide wrapping at it’s base. A spear of some sort.  
You roll your shoulders out and put your tools down on the open role. You peel of the gloves and reach for the tall insulated bottle of water. You gulp, your throat cooling nicely at the flow. You cap the bottle and clear your throat, listening to the silence of the mountain. 
Yet it isn’t quiet. You glance around at the subtle scratching, a strange tapping across the ground. It could be vermin. It’s not unusual to disturb a nest of one thing or another on a dig but they usually leave early on. 
You put the bottle down and shove your hand back into a glove. A puffy breath comes over the scratching. Several breaths in quick succession, as if there’s something sniff. You keep your other glove in your grip and stand. Your legs are so cramped that your steps are stiff and stunted. 
As you search for the source, there’s a yipe and a fuzzy shape catches your eye. You tilt your head, thoroughly confused at the barking beast. You’re not certain that chihuahuas are native to Norway. At least, you wouldn’t assume so. 
The ashy blond dog has longer fur along its ears and chest and a white bolt down its chest. You can tell it isn’t wild despite its behaviour as it is finely groomed and wears a bright red collar. You approach the fence as it hops, stopping only to try to dig beneath with its dirtied paws. 
“Hi, buddy,” you near the eager dog, “how’d you get up here?” 
You stop just across from the dog and poke your fingers through the fence. It stops, you think a ‘he’, and sniffs your fingers. His cold nose tickles you and you wiggle until you can pet his head. The little thunderbolt emblem on hiss collar peeks through his mane. There might be some information there. 
“Thunder!” The booming voice sounds like the very thing it decries, “Thunder, you pest, where’re you off too?” 
There’s a crunching of soil and rock along the mountain pass as the dog growls and barks again, turning to face the skewing of a towering shadow. You watch in shock at the approach. You didn’t think there was life so far up. That or someone has chosen a rather treacherous hiking trail. 
The dog, you assume ‘Thunder’, bounces back and forth in anticipation of his own, calling to him with his pitchy yaps. The man appears around the jagged rock and you feel the air knocked from your chest. You slowly reach to take out your earbud and tuck it in a pocket.
Wow. You blink to make sure it’s real. To be certain this isn’t some trick of the mind or this ancient land. Maybe the gods are real here. 
He’s tall and broad and handsome. His canvas jacket does little to conceal his muscular build as his jeans are snug to his thick thighs. You think he’s even bigger than Steve. You wince at the reminder of the man but it quickly flits away. You can’t ignore the man before you with his golden tresses twisted back into a low bun, stray strands wisping forward to frame his stony jaw and stormy blue eyes. 
You stand gaping through the fence as the man flinches in fright. His gaze meet yours and his cheeks tinge pink as he gives a crooked grin, “ah, Thunder, my darling, you’ve found a friend.” 
He whistles and the dog lunges forward. He picks up the chihuahua, their size difference almost comical as he cradles him in one arm. You can’t think of a thing to say. You can barely think.  
You snap your mouth shut and clear your throat. Work. That’s what you should be doing. 
“Hello,” the man nears the other side of the fence before you can move away, “I’ve been wondering what this is all about. The signs...” he points with his thumb over his shoulder. 
“Oh, uh,” you peer around as if lost. You sort of are. “A dig. Er. Grant,” you stammer out. You take a breath and still your mind, “I work with an archeological society in New York. We’ve been sponsored by your national board to exhume this site.” 
“Ah, yes, makes sense,” he lowers his brows thoughtfully as the dog squirms in his hold, yiping and biting at his sleeve. “Forgive me, she is rather uncouth.” He raises the dog higher and she wiggles in his arm. You see it now, definitely a pampered girl. “This is Thunder. She lives up to her namesake, eh?” 
“Uh, yeah,” you give a brittle smile, unsure. 
“Thor,” he dips his chin down, “I live just up the pass.” 
“You do?” You wonder curiously. “All the way up here?” 
“Oh yes, if you saw the old haunt, you might just want to dig that up too,” he jokes. “We usually go up the pass, towards the river.” 
“The river?” 
“Yes, you mustn’t stray far from here,” he remarks as he raises a hand to lean on the fence, only to nearly tip the unanchored grating. “Oooh, apologies,” he rights himself with a laugh, “anyhow, it is nice to see a new face around here. Better to have a name for it.” 
“Right, uh,” you offer your name and giggle nervously, “it’s just me on-site, guess I forget my manners.” 
“Not to worry. As the resident mountain man, my etiquette does lack,” he winces as Thunder chomps on his thumb knuckle, “eh, you monster, alright.” He holds her up and she pokes her nose through the fence, “she loves new people. Not so keen on the old.” 
“She's cute,” you scratch her nose and she licks your fingers. “Not exactly a native species.” 
“Who knows where she came from? Found the little dragon in the woods. Suppose someone left her there. She was covered in mud, so small I though she was a bloody toad,” he muses as he brings her back against his chest and rocks her, “it was only her thunderous barks which told me otherwise, isn’t that right, darling?” 
He makes a kissy noise at her and her fluffy tail wags wildly against him. You smile more genuinely. It is nice to have another living thing around after digging up the broken and dead for so long. 
“So you’re from New York?” He asks abruptly, his blue eyes rolling over you like a tide. 
“Yeah,” you utter breathily, “yes, New York.” 
“You’ve been here a while?” 
“Couple months,” you shift and twist your glove. 
“Wonderful, and you’ve done much exploring? You must live in town.” 
“About three hours,” you point towards the gravelly road, “haven’t had much time for sightseeing but I found a good fish shop.” 
“A shop? That’s no good. We catch our own fish, fry ‘em up over the pit,” he says, “that’s the way we do it up here.” 
You nod, “sounds fun. Well, er,” you turn halfway and look around, your eyes skimming up to the cloudy sky, “I should probably hustle. Looks like rain.” 
“That it does but it won’t be ‘til midnight,” he assures. 
“You think it’ll hold out?” 
“I know so,” he affirms and lingers by the fence, trying to see past you, “what exactly are you uncovering over there?” 
“Not much so far,” you pull on your loose glove. 
“You must know what this place was. A raider’s camp.” 
“Is that so?” 
“Mm, yes, the raiders would camp upon the pass away from those who might come ashore, then go off themselves to find a coast to reap,” he explains. 
“And how do you know all that?” You ask as you tramp back to your place in the dirt. 
“Suppose some of my ancestors camped here with them,” he offers casually, “for so long as we’ve been up here. Once the viking scamps settled, they had to find a home somewhere. Some fellow named Agmundr or another built a stone house further up.” 
“Admundr? Family?” You prompt. 
“Distant,” he assures, “been some time and that stone house is now a foundation.” 
You get down to your knees as you grab your brush and peek over at him, “thanks for the information. I’ll have to add it to the land report. Have them crosscheck in the archives.” 
“Not at all. You won’t find it all on your paper, you know? We carry or history on our tongues here.” 
“Sure,” you say as you bend over the spearhead and start again. 
“You don’t mind if I watch? I always did love history and I’ve never seen a proper dig before.” 
“Not much going on, I’m afraid,” you shrug, “but if you want.” 
“Thunder will have a tantrum if I go,” he chuckles, “she likes you.” 
“Hm,” you scoff, “she is very outspoken.” 
You set your eyes on your task but can’t shake the awareness of your audience. It’s not too unusual. There were a few digs you did early on in the heart of the city and people loved to ogle you. This is different. Just the two of you. A stranger even. Friendly as he is, you’re happy for the fence, even if it is rather flimsy. 
“Those bones aren’t for you,” he says to the dog as she wriggles in his grasp. “Let’s find a stick then, you little pest.” 
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buckys-wintersoldier · 3 months ago
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Warming Heart | B.B
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Coldness and hate, followed by nightmares — he never chooses to be like that but the people made him to be like that. People made him be the beast but maybe there will be one who can melt the grumpy man’s heart.
//Pairing// Beast!Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader
//Wordcount// 4.727 Words
//Warnings// grumpy x sunshine, Bucky being hated, “beast”!Bucky, grumpy!Bucky, hurt/comfort kinda, nightmare, fluff
//Authors Note// I want to thank @holylulusworld for listening to all my ramblings about the idea and helping me with details. Also for proofreading, all mistakes are still mine (so don’t steal them from me!)
//Events// Hot Bucky Summer | Week 8 | "Maybe this'll help you relax.", Hot Bath, Another Drink, Cockwarming | @buckybarnesevents | Hurt-Comfort Bingo | Row One-Three | self doubt to "I'm so proud of you." | @sweetspicybingo | July Break Bingo | Row One-One | The beauty and the beast au | @julybreakbingo
// Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist //
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Surrounded by darkness and hate — without a chance to make amends because no one even gives him just the smallest of a chance to let him try to be like them or at least explain himself. They hate him like no one else, like he is the worst thing you could be around and that’s the way they would act around him.
So the man decided years ago to hide in his small house in the middle of the forest, he doesn’t care what the people say about him, about his house. At least he doesn’t care anymore, if someone had asked him a few years back he would have tried to explain himself with tears in his eyes and a broken voice.
The man he was and the man he is now is a huge difference because he is different now. It wasn’t him who changed himself, it was the people who changed him into the “beast” he is now.
James Barnes doesn’t mind the coldness and darkness around him, he even appreciates it. He hates everyone who is close to his house and luckily there are rarely people who walk that deep into the forest, especially after they heard the stories about him, about the monster — the winter soldier.
The winter soldier is known as the most dangerous assassin with a metal arm. There are stories of why he lost his arm and now has a metal arm. From ‘he got hurt during a mission’ to ‘he ripped off his arm to make himself more dangerous’. But the truth? No one asks what the truth is, no one cares because they have their own stories, their imaginations about the man.
You’re new to the village, living in a small house at the edge of it. The people living there only look at you with suspicious eyes because you’re different. That’s what you think because you haven’t even introduced yourself to them but they don’t even talk to you.
Maybe it’s your style or the fact that you’re living in a way more modern way than they do. You’re working from home, with your laptop. You have meetings and organize everything for the company you’re working for. Maybe they think you plan to turn their small village into a hotel resort or whatever — but there is one thing you know: the people living in that village are judgeful and need a while to warm up with other people.
Today you decided to go for a walk, you always loved the forests and the one next to the village always smells so good like fir and spruce. So when it wasn’t too warm and most people were busy with their stuff, you sneaked out of the house and through the village into the forest.
The first step you take into it lets you forget about all the annoying and judging people you’re around all day. You inhale deeply, muscles relaxing immediately when the fresh breeze mixed with the smell of the trees hits your face.
You’re not sure why those people don’t like the forest, always mumbling about it, staring into it when it gets dark or when the rain comes — like there's a monster hidden that comes out by night or storms. You mostly laughed about their behavior, shaking your head and asking yourself who is the different one — you or the other village members.
With slow steps and your eyes everywhere at the same time in the forest you walk along the small path. You’re really not sure why none of the others go into the forest, it’s pretty, smells good, and is so quiet that you can only hear the birds and the moving leaves of the trees.
Bucky is out of his house, enjoying the loneliness the forest brings with it. He doesn’t miss the judging people, the intense stare, or the obvious whispers. He is happy when he is as happy as you can be with yourself in a forest. But the brown-haired man isn’t completely alone, he has a golden retriever named Stevie, who is his best friend and always with Bucky.
A low sound leaves the dog when the two of them hear a crack nearby. Bucky narrows his eyes, growling. He doesn’t like people, especially not near to his house. It’s his house, he has to keep it safe and no one is allowed to be close to it or else it wouldn’t be as safe as it used to be.
The man places his metal hand at the back of his dog's collar, holding him back as they slowly make their way through the forest to find out where the cracking comes from. And as they surround a tree not far away from their house a squirrel is running through the leaves on the ground and up a tree.
Bucky exhales deeply, he loves the animals in the forest, they are afraid of him but they don’t judge him, they don’t get into his house and they don’t talk to him. That kind of neighbor is his favorite.
A low growl echoes through the forest, the dark suddenly darker than before, and suddenly the rain is pouring down, wetting the big man completely in no time. With an annoyed huff, he leads Steve back to their shared house, he should have paid more attention to the dark clouds in the sky but he was too deep in his thoughts, in his own doing, and then too busy with the squirrel to notice before it started to rain.
He lets Steve off his hand and turns on the fire in the fireplace to let his dog dry in front of it while Bucky himself takes a shower and changes into dry and more comfortable clothes. Bucky likes rain, at least when it doesn’t pour down on him, but when the drops roll down his windows, the steady sound of them falling against the window and the quiet crackling sound of the fire is the only sound that echoes through his house.
The rain surprises you just as much as it surprised Bucky, but instead of him, your house is around half an hour's walk away from you. Your clothes are soaked and you start to freeze with every following blow of the wind through the forest. Arms already wrapped around yourself you walk further into the forest, hoping for a small hut or something. Little do you know that you’re going to find a house just a few more minutes walk away from you.
Thunder and lightning join the rain when you see a small house in the distance. You smile to yourself as you notice it, it looks dark but at least it could help you to warm up a bit maybe.
The front door is locked, so you look around, maybe there is a window you can climb through to get into the house? Or you have to throw something into it to get in there, whatever option you choose it has to be fast because you aren’t feeling your fingers or toes anymore. After walking a bit more around the house you find a door that looks similar to the front door just at the back which leads into a small garden. The garden is surprisingly clean for a house that looks so empty but you’re too deep in your thoughts to notice that.
You stomp through the dust, your shoes and legs completely one with the dirt, and a few leaves stuck to your shoes as well. When you try to open the door that leads into the house you’re successful. You easily slip into the floor of the house, closing the door behind you and sighing deeply.
As you trim around your eyes wander through a kitchen, someone is living in that house, it’s all cleaned and you wonder who could live there. Maybe a nice or mean witch? You have seen a lot of movies with them, sometimes they are nice so you hope that whichever witch's house that is, is one of the nice ones.
Since the house is perfectly clean and someone obviously lives here, you don’t want to disturb them further with all the dirt under your shoes, so you take them off and leave them at the door when you walk through the kitchen.
“H-hello, someone at home? I-uhm- I was out for a walk and it started raining, I’m sorry for just coming in but it is freezing outside,” you say, ignoring the fact that you could talk to yourself in case there is no one at home right now.
It’s still cold, your wet clothes cling to your skin and you shiver lightly. There is no noise except the noise of the wetness falling from your clothes and the steady sound of rain against the windows. It’s almost completely dark but you can still see everything around you.
For a moment you feel like someone is staring at you, like there are a pair of blue eyes in the darkness but as you blink it’s suddenly away and you shake your head. A soft warm yellow is visible underneath a door that leads from the floor into another room, maybe someone is there? Or at least something you can warm yourself up with?
Slowly with almost quiet steps, you walk through the dark floor, there is still that feeling of someone behind you, a pair of eyes that watches you carefully but whenever you turn around there is no one. You’re brave but it still scares you a bit, no one would go into another person's house but it’s an exception, isn’t it?
As you open the door where the light is visible you smile softly, there is a fireplace with a couch in front of it and you immediately move into it, closing the door — not completely because it’s too heavy. Whoever lives here has to be strong and big because everything looks just so big.
A low growl comes from behind the door once you sit on the floor in front of the fireplace, warming your hands. Your head shoots to the side, the door is now completely open again, and in the doorframe is a broad man, almost as thick as the doorframe itself.
“What are you doing here, girl?” He asks, staring at you. His eyes are ocean blue and he frowns, his teeth gritted and jaw clenched. Your eyes wander lower to his broad chest and widen slightly the moment you notice the glistening metal arm he has. But he is still handsome.
“I-uhm it rains really bad outside and uhm— the thunderstorm probably gets worse so I thought I—“ he interrupts you with a snarl. Shaking his head, he growls once again.
“And you think you could come into MY house,” he mumbles, rolling his eyes. The wind blows through the floor and he notices the way your body starts trembling because of the cold. He takes a step inside the room, ready to close the door as a dog runs into the room and directly toward you.
Before you get the chance to answer him the golden retriever jumps on top of you, causing you to fall backwardand land on the floor. The dog immediately licks all over your face, causing you to giggle in the softest way Bucky has ever heard.
He doesn’t know why but the sound of your giggles warm his inside a bit, his heart flutters and there is almost a soft smile across his lips but he gets his facade back before the smile breaks through it, closing the door. He then faces you once more, snapping at his dog who whines before moving away and taking a seat next to you.
Bucky still doesn’t trust you and you have to be out of his house as far as possible. His eyes roam over you, through the room, and to the window. The forest is covered in a deep dark, he can’t even see the trees that are close to the house and he knows he can’t send you out like that, especially not with the thunderstorm and even less with your still dripping clothes.
“Stay there,” he says, his voice rough and dark. Bucky stomps through the living room, looking through a drawer to fish out a towel with a pair of pants and a thick hoodie of his. With that he walks closer to you again, placing them on the couch behind you before taking a step backward. “Second door, right side. Take a shower, can’t make you ill because of your wet clothes.”
You nod, smiling softly at him. Even though he looks at you with narrowed eyes and a grumpy expression you smile at him all the time, trying to lighten up his mood with yours.
“Thank you, I’m y/n!” You say, getting off the floor and grabbing the clothes with the towel to take a warm shower. The golden retriever gets up with you as well, his tail swinging from one side to the other as he follows you through the door.
“Bucky.” The man grumbles, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He takes a seat on the couch, his eyes always following you. “Stevie, sit! And no sneaking around!”
You nod, giggling about his still harsh tone, and then you make your way to the bathroom to take a warm shower. Before you’re ready to change into his comfortable clothes.
Meanwhile, Bucky growls a bit more under his breath. His thick, long fingers scratch over Steve’s head and his ears, causing the dog to snuggle into Bucky. The big man smirks softly, just a tiny bit when he sees his dog so happy and comfortable.
“Do ya like her, you do, don’t you?” He asks his dog, not wanting an answer, Bucky just likes talking to his dog. He is his friend, his own company so he is used to talking to him about everything. “You’re also just a boy, getting weak when it comes to women.”
Steve snuggles more against Bucky, his long tongue gliding over the man’s hand until he has to wipe it on his pants to dry it. “Yeah, good boy. You need to protect us, don’t be weak when a woman walks into our home, Stevie.”
After returning to the living room Bucky offered you warm tea, he doesn’t want you to get sick because of the cold. It would be his fault — and as much as he hates people he doesn’t want you to feel bad. So he makes tea for the two of you, looking for some snacks he can offer as well and some for Steve.
Bucky feels slightly betrayed by his best friend as he walks back into the living room. Steve is cuddled up into you, his head resting on your lap while you sit wrapped into a warm blanket on the couch. Your fingers slide through the golden retriever's fur, causing him to relax.
“Looks like he likes you… he usually doesn’t like other people,” Bucky's deep voice comes from behind you. You shiver lightly the moment the rough sound of his voice echoes through the room.
“He’s like you, isn’t he?” You ask with the softest smile tugging at your lips. Your cheeks are slightly pink when you turn to face Bucky, who places the snacks next to you on the couch and hands you a cup of tea.
Bucky takes a seat next to you, growling and you notice that he likes to growl about everything. He then nods, sipping at his cup and staring into the fire in the fireplace.
The silence makes you nervous and there are a few — a lot of — questions you want to get off your chest. You clear your throat, getting his attention but he still doesn’t look at you. You actually have his attention the whole time, Bucky is looking at you from the corner of his eyes.
“Why are you living here in the forest so far away from the village?” You ask, turning your head while playing with your hands in your lap. You twirl Steve’s fur around your digits before letting them go. Bucky doesn’t answer, only turning his hands into fists, gripping the fabric of his pants tightly.
The knuckles of his flesh hand turn already white and you shift in your seat. “I- uhm, sorry. I understand that the people there can be really— they are you know, need a long time to get used to other people,” you mumble, being grateful when Steve gets off your lap and walks through the room, picking a toy of his up to bring it to you.
You giggle sweetly, grasping one side while the dog holds the other side between his teeth. He pulls on it, trying to get it out of your hand but your grip is too strong so you hold it tightly. Soft chuckles and giggles leave your lips now and then, you praise the dog for being such an adorable dog, that he is a good boy.
Even Bucky has to try his best to not let a soft chuckle slip past his lips. The corners of his mouth twitch but he manages to not smile completely, just a tiny bit, hoping you don’t notice.
The moment he smirks, Steve turns and stands in front of the taller man, casting your eyes on Bucky and you see the smile tugging at his lips. It makes your heart flutter, Bucky’s blue eyes light up, and his nose scrunches.
Bucky doesn’t talk much to you all evening, only to ask you if you want more tea or some snacks. He tells you to sleep on the couch, offering you some more blankets and a pillow, bringing it to you. Steve stays with you in the living room which makes Bucky grumble as he walks into his bedroom.
He hasn’t slept without his dog in a long time, actually never since he adopted Steve. But now his best friend prefers the girl that stays at their house. With a grumpy expression, Bucky gets into his bed, curls himself tight into his blanket, and grasps a pillow to hold on to something in his sleep while Steve has his place for the night next to you on the couch.
It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, you’re warmed by the dog and the massive blankets. And you couldn’t feel saver, of course, Bucky hasn’t talked much about himself and was grumpy most of the time but you have seen his soft smile when you giggled.
Your sleep is interrupted by a scream, followed by another loud noise that echoes through the house. You immediately sit on the couch, looking at the dog who is still cuddled up next to you, only his head is up to look at you with his big eyes.
Another sound comes from the floor or somewhere in the house, it sounds like someone slams against a wall or the floor. You shiver, it’s only Bucky who is next to you and Steve in the house and Steve is next to you, so it can only be Bucky or a monster?
You notice a groan that sounds pretty much like Bucky but it sounds slightly different to the growls he answers you with all day. This one right now sounds like he is hurt, but why could he be hurt? Maybe he fell out of the bed?
“Get up, Stevie, let’s find out what’s going on in your dad's room, yeah?” You ask, and even though you’re not sure if the golden retriever understands you, he gets up, waiting in front of the couch for you to get up as well.
With the blanket wrapped around you and Steve walking next to you slowly, and quietly through the room, to the floor until you reach Bucky’s bedroom. Behind the closed door, you can hear muffled screams, heavy moans which could also be groans, and now and then a punch against either the bed or the wall.
You open the door, finding Bucky still in his bed but his blanket is wrapped around his legs and arms. The brown-haired man looks like he is trying to fight against the fabric like it’s someone who holds him, and whatever he tries he can’t get out of their grip.
With another step into the room and Steve whimpering next to you, you notice the sweat running down Bucky’s face. The sheets underneath him almost wrapped around him instead of the mattress. Bucky’s metal arm is glistening in the light shine of the moon when he lifts it and throws it against the wall behind his bed.
“Bucky? Hey, Bucky, wake up, you’re oke?” You ask, doubting that he is going to wake up when you talk to him. He growls once again, punching around him before he moans painfully and stays still for a brief moment. “Bucky?”
When he lies there, moving less than before you sit down next to him, hoping you won’t scare him. You place your hand on his flesh arm, stroking your thumb over his sweaty skin. He immediately relaxes a bit, still trying to get out of the grip of the blanket but less than before.
“Bucky, it’s oke. You’re having a nightmare, no one’s gonna hurt you. Stevie’s here too,” you say, patting the place next to you on the bed and the dog jumps onto it, leaning over Bucky to lick across his face, waking the big man up as soon as Steve’s wet tongue touches Bucky’s skin.
“Stevie,” Bucky breathes out heavily, his eyes shooting open as he notices the touch on his arm. Wide, blue eyes staring at you, there is nothing left of the cold gaze he had when you walked into his house earlier. His eyes only show terror, his whole expression shows you that, even though he isn’t dreaming anymore. “F—“
“It’s oke, s-sorry, I didn’t want to scare you,” you mumble and this time his eyes widen in surprise. You’re scared that you scared him? He is the one who is punching around himself, who is like a wild beast haunted by his nightmares. But you, you don’t want to scare him?
“I-uhm you scare me? I’m the one who scares everyone,” the man mumbles, sitting up and resting against the headboard of his bed with his back. “Why aren’t you scared?”
You giggle, earning a soft smile from Bucky as well. You’re really adorable, giggling all day like nothing could ever hurt you and you’re the first one in ages who isn’t afraid of him, who doesn’t mind his presence and even helps him.
“Why should I? Because you’re a grumpy man, ohhh, you’re way nicer even as the grump you are than the people in the village,” you smirk, turning a bit to face him better, your fingers sliding up and down his arm. You then let them glide to his legs, helping him to free his legs from the blanket. “The blanket isn’t your enemy, it’s your friend, you know?”
He chuckles, nodding his head. Bucky runs his fingers over his face, through his hair before he sighs deeply. “I know, but the stories they tell about me, exist because parts of them are true but no one knows the story behind it, and while I dream my blanket turns into my worst enemy when it’s wrapped tightly around me. When Steve is here it’s better, but this boy prefers girls when he gets to see one.”
“Stories? I never heard about a Bucky in a story, are you famous?”
“Not in a good way, but kind of. Have you ever heard about the winter soldier?” Bucky asks, shivering when the name slips past his lips. You nod, you have heard of him, once but you thought it was just a scary story to stop the kids from running into the forest. “It was— the winter soldier, it was me. That’s why they hate me in the village, why they are scared of me.”
Your mouth drops open as you nod. The metal arm, the soldier was described with one. But Bucky is everything but scary, maybe a bit grumpy — which doesn’t surprise you when one is living all by himself.
“Do you want me to go back into the living room? I mean I can also stay here if you want. But Steve will be there now so,” you ask, drawing circles on Bucky’s thighs. He follows your fingers, his expression softens and a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. You’re really not scared of him, not even now when you know about him as the winter soldier.
“I- uhm would you- I mean, I would love it if you would stay here, I- I can change the sheets because they are sweaty,” he mumbles.
“How about you give me the sheets and I will change them while you take a shower,” you suggest, Bucky nods.
The two — three — of you are cuddled up in the bed around forty minutes later. Bucky has his arm wrapped around your shoulder, caressing the skin while your head is placed on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.
“I understand that you don’t want to be in the village if you can be here — it’s quieter, more natural, and beautiful — but you know, you’re not him anymore. You’re Bucky and not the person they think you are,” you mumble into his chest.
He sighs, nodding. He knows that but you’re the only person next to him who thinks like that. At least he thinks that sometimes about himself, as long as no one is looking at him with a judging gaze.
“I try to believe it,” he says, sliding his fingers further to your hair, twirling them around his fingers. He had told you about him as the Winter Soldier and the things he did when they brainwashed and forced him to work for them. “But it helps that Steve loves me and that you stumbled into my house.”
You giggle, pulling the blanket over the two of you, and nuzzle more into Bucky. Steve is cuddled up between your and Bucky’s legs, already snoring quietly.
“I’m also glad I stumbled into your house, grumpy boy,” you smirk, looking up at him. His eyes light up and he smiles, and he looks adorable when he smiles, especially the slight scrunch of his nose.
“I guess I want to keep you here forever, and Stevie would help me, I’m sure,” Bucky chuckles, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.
“I wouldn’t mind staying here with you. I’m so proud of you, you have built your own house with everything, and you’re so much stronger than you think. I would love to spend the rest of my life with you to make sure you know you can be and will be loved — by me.”
No one has told him that they are proud of him or love him in ages, but when you say it — it sounds just perfect. The two of you know that those words have a deep meaning and that it’s more like a promise than a joke. Who knew the ice around the man’s heart could melt with the help of you when you stumble not just into his house but also into his small world and light up the darkness? You’re his everything and he will make sure you have everything you need with him, who needs judging people in the village when you have one another — plus Bucky has now two loves who take care that his blanket doesn’t wrap around him and keep him in bed — because that’s your task from now on, or Bucky’s so he has an excuse for whatever he planned to do the day that includes work.
With you, he found everything he was ever asking for, someone who loves him for the person he is, someone who isn’t afraid of him. But he never thought you would like his metal arm and help him love himself as the one he is.
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asapeveryday · 7 months ago
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We Have Now
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Pairing: Nika Mühl x Reader
Warnings: lil bit of angst, suggestive content
Summary: The season is over, the seniors have graduated and the summer has begun. The future holds a lot of uncertainty, but your feelings for Nika have never been uncertain. Is it too late for you?
A/n: I just can’t resist summer themed fics. Also I’m ngl this is NOTT my best work so I’m sorry for that… enjoy anyways.
“Holy shit!”
Through the window of your bedroom you can see the sunset has turned outside an entrancing mix of tropical colours. Pink, purple, orange and yellow mix in the clouds and paint the world around you for a moment, and you know you need to see it up close.
You rush down the stairs and past the living room, where the rest of the team is sleeping on the couch with a movie on in the background.
It had been a long day for everyone, the team had planned to spend a couple days of July at an airbnb in Rhode Island back in February, and the plan thankfully took off.
The day had been filled with a long car ride, various TikToks, loud music, unpacking, swimming and barbecuing. Everyone was exhausted.
When you rush out to the deck you’re encapsulated by the scenery. Sunsets were beautiful, but even better by the beach. The white sand and deep ocean water against the rich setting sky was something out of a book.
After taking about a hundred photos and videos, you put your phone away and just stood in astonishment.
Playing basketball with these girls at Uconn was one of the biggest blessings you’d ever received in your life, and you were going to miss them so much. You often found yourself swimming in old memories at night, memories of locker room conversations, late night drives, shared playlists, loud Friday night parties, shared looks, useless yearning and post game tears.
You’d already gone through your sad feelings at graduation though, and the draft had brought some more light to the situation. You had no regrets whatsoever about your college career, except for maybe one thing. And that thing was on the beach right now.
Nika was laying on the sand, just far enough from the ocean to avoid getting hit by the high tide. She didn’t say anything when you laid down beside her, the both of you just stared at the darkening sky as the sound of waves filled the silence.
“Remember how different things were when we first met?” You finally say after some time.
Nika quietly laughs. “How could I forget?”
You roll your eyes playfully. “Gosh, I thought you were so weird.”
“You were weirder.” She grumbles.
“You just thought all Americans were weird.”
“Because you guys are! I never saw so many overly confident basketball players who were so bad till’ I came here.”
The two of you laugh together for a moment, then it’s quiet again.
Your hand is excruciatingly close to hers, but neither of you move closer.
“Everything’s so different now.” Nika mumbles, almost to herself.
You turn your head to face her. Nika’s side profile is strong, prominent nose, perfect lips, sharp eyebrows and expressive eyes. Her cheeks are pink from being out in the sun. You have the urge to make them pinker, but you shake the thought away.
“Yeah. Everything is different…but that’s a good thing”
Nika nods solemnly, but you can tell she’s thinking hard.
“Niks, don’t worry too much okay? Things work out if they’re meant to.”
She brings a hand to her face, covering her eyes and muffling her voice, which slightly wavers when she says. “What if I don’t make it?”
With this you give in and take her hand, squeezing it tight for a moment.
“Baby they’re lucky to have you. One day with you and they’ll know you’re needed on that team. Everyone else knows it for sure.”
“Says who?” Her eyebrows furrow. “I can’t just assume this’ll work out. What if it doesn’t? What the fuck do I do then? All my work will have been for nothing.”
“If Seattle doesn’t see you as an asset to their team, then I assure you there’ll be another team just waiting for you. Everyone here knows how valuable you are as a player, and the internet wouldn’t let anyone forget.”
She isn’t very convinced, but she turns her head to meet your gaze. Her eyes remind you of a puppies eyes. “Thank you.” She says, sincere and slightly embarrassed. Her hand is still in yours and your noses are almost touching. You wonder if she’d ever talk to you again if you kissed her.
At the thought of that, your stomach sinks. You sit up suddenly, hand breaking from hers. You don’t see how her face drops when you do it.
“I-“ you start, but hesitate. You didn’t want to regret anything like this again. You wanted her to know every thought in your head, even if it had a chance of going sour. “I’m really gonna miss you Nika. More than anyone else, I think.” You finally manage to get out.
She sits up now too, her brown hair blowing in the salty wind, her almost hazel eyes glinting from the reflection of the water, or perhaps something else, something like hope.
“More than anyone else?” She questions you.
“Yeah.” You say, turning to meet her stare. “I’ve always liked you more than the others.”
“Hm.” She says, as if she was expecting more.
The silence is eating at you, you just want to scream out how badly you want her. You know it’s too late, when this trip is over everyone splits. You to your hometown, Aaliyah to Washington, Nika to Seattle, Paige and the others to Connecticut. Still, you didn’t want to live with this in you forever.
“I had a massive crush on you during freshman year.” You utter as confidently as possible.
Nika’s lips part in surprise “You- you did?”
“Yeah. Major.” You scoff. Those days were almost pathetic in hindsight, obvious to everyone but Nika and yourself.
You watch as Nika draws swirls in the sand with her finger. You can practically hear the gears turning in her head.
“And…when did this crush fade away?” She finally asks you.
You let a beat pass before sucking it up and saying. “It didn’t.”
Nika’s eyes really widen now. You hold her gaze as best as you can. “I never stopped liking you. It just got stronger overtime, actually.”
You almost recoil when she scowls at you.
“Fuck you.”
“What?”
“Fuck!” She rubs her face, exasperated. “You- urgh, I wish you told me. I wish you told me way, way earlier.”
You don’t say anything.
“I wish I knew. Don’t you get it?” She whines, almost pleadingly. “God, if you’d told me way earlier we could’ve…maybe we would’ve..” she trails off.
Finding out that Nika Mühl, your best friend and longest love, also loved you should’ve been the best moment of your life. Instead it had you thinking of everything that could’ve been.
“I was scared.” You mutter. “I was so, so scared, I don’t know why. I wish I’d just told you, but you know me. I never take chances. I pass the ball, I don’t make the shot. I just…I wouldn’t have been able to take it if you didn’t feel the same. So I never did anything.”
She’s close to you now, hand on your knee, face flushed.
“What are we gonna do?”
You stare at her face, eyes darting from her eyes, then lips, the her eyes again.
Her eyes are beautiful. Honey brown, golden in the sun but piercing now at dusk, eyelashes long and fluttering as she tries to make sense of this situation.
You’ve wanted her more than you’ve wanted that ring at the end of the National Tournament every single year. The thought of you wasting time that could’ve been spent pressed next to her, skin to skin and soul to soul? It was sickening to you.
Still, here she was. Eyes begging you for something you’ve dreamed of. The sky now staining the beach a violent pink.
When your mouth meets hers it’s everything you’ve fantasized about. Her lips are full and soft, fitting perfectly against your own. You can feel her lashes tickle your face as you tilt your head just right, her arms get goosebumps when you fiddle with her hair.
Pulling away from her, you can’t help but melt at the satisfied smile on her face.
“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” Nika says. “I just wish it could’ve happened earlier.”
“I’m tired of wishing.” You say, putting a hand on her face gently. “We can’t change anything now. It’s over. But we have today.”
She drinks in the feeling of being this close to you. “We have now.” Nika whispers.
Your kisses are sweet and chaste at first, but it’s getting colder out and you need her warmth. She changes the pace, clashing into you with a sense of urgency now. When her mouth slightly opens and you feel her tongue against yours you know it’s over for you. She can have whatever she wants.
Nika finds herself straddling you now, and you’re suddenly hyper aware of everything that’s happening.
After four years of thinking of her before bed, before letting your hands take care of yourself night after night to the thought of her, here she was in all her glory. Body toned and breathing hard, hair sprawled against her tan skin, fingers untying her bikini top.
She leans into you, but instead of kissing you she puts her mouth to your ear. You can feel her smirk against your skin.
“How much of the past four years do you wanna bet I can make up for in one night?
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ilovebuckers5 · 8 months ago
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.·:·.✧ Say No ✧.·:·.
NIka Muhl x Fem!Reader
"your probably having good times with a bad boy"
word count - 2.1k
themes:
-angst if u squint
-slight sexual content
-light fluff
A/N - this is gonna be a short series but I wrote this in honor of the weather getting warmer and so that I'm not so depressed about Nika leaving. sorry its so short..
Me and Nika Muhl started dating July 7th of 2022. It was a regular summer day in California. The entire team decided to go on a vacation together. It was hard leaving Connecticut to go hang out with the team I had just joined but oh whatever. The only downside to his trip was my shitty boyfriend.
Ex. Ex boyfriend sorry.
I had a mango smoothie in hand and watched as Paige and Azzi splashed each other with the bluest of waters. Every couple seconds I'd feel a breeze rush against my exposed collarbones. Even as the sun was beating down on me I felt so fresh and clean and free. My fingers felt around the sand I was sitting in. My eyes drifted from the ocean to the sky which was painted with oranges and yellows with pinky tones in-between. I took a sip from my smoothie before looking to my ride to find a creation brunette sitting down next to me. A soft smile was placed on her face as she made herself comfortable next to me.
Throughout the time that I was on this team, me and Nika barely talked outside of game days and team dinners. If I'm being honest, This summer was going to be my designated time to get closer with her. So her openly sitting next to me was a major step.
"Hey" her eyes flashed from the sand to me.
I quickly shaped my lips into a smile and looked into Nika's eyes.
"Hi theree"
I noticed her hands were wrapped around the handle of a beige tote bag. She let go of the bag to rest her hands against her chest as she laid herself down. Her sunglasses were black with a slightly lighter lens. She had on a bright blue bikini that the ends of her hair grazed ever so slightly. I felt her eyes linger towards mine as I admired her features.
"Sorry we haven't gotten to talk a lot in the past couple months" she said softly, accent thick.
"Your good. We have the whole summer to make up for it so don't worry" I kept my eyes locked on the ocean.
Up until now I thought Nika was the mean point guard who everyone was petrified by. And I was very convinced that they had a reason. But now talking to her face to face I felt myself grow confused on how this could've gotten around.
"Why aren't you out in the water huh?" The brunette said pointing to the ocean.
I shrugged my shoulders and turned my head to face Nika.
"I forgot my suit" an excuse quickly slipped out.
"Oh sure.." Nika said under her breath, clearly not believing me
Our conversation eventually died out so I decided to pull out a book from my beach bag. I flipped through the pages to find my last place and began reading. as I got lost in the words I didn't even realize that Nika had gotten up to go swim with the other girls. I peered through the top of my book to see Nika gently slipping her feet into the water. Ines quickly jumped onto Nika's back like a toddler on her mom. I couldn't help but giggle at the sight of Nika getting absolutely dunked into the water. Everyone but me and Qadence were in the water. I almost forgot I was even reading by the time Nika looked at me. I was caught staring at her. in a bikini. shit. I quickly darted my eyes down into my book and pretended that nothing happened.
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Once the team got back to the hotel we were staying at the only thing I could focus on was trying to avoid Nika. Of course it was my luck that I happened to room with her. What a coincidence. I walked through the door of our room and set my flower printed bag on my bed and showered before doing anything else. I played my favorite summer playlist and left my clothes on the floor before stepping into the shower. My mind kept going back to the beach and seeing Nika in her bathing suit. Fuck. Doesn't she have a boyfriend or something? I cant be thinking this shit. But the way her hair was all wet and her laugh was so addicting to remember. The hot water running down my back along with the thought of Nika sent chills along my arms effortlessly.
I kept trying to focus on whatever SZA song was playing on my speaker but failed miserably. Soon enough I got out of the shower and slipped on a silk pajama set on. I braided my hair tightly and cleaned up the bathroom before turning the light off and leaving. When I got out of the bathroom the bedroom was still empty. Thank god. I flipped open my computer and turned on Outer Banks before pulling out my sketch book.
I came up with a rule before I came to UConn. The rule was that after everyday I have to draw anything that comes to mind until my mind is clear. Whether its cleared of happiness or anger. And I stuck to it.
Of course I had to draw the ocean and sand and all those beach like things. Before I knew it, I was drawing Nika. With her hair up with her hair down. In her bikini, in the outfit she wore yesterday and the day before. The was the first day that I had to shut my sketch book before my mind was clear because what the fuck was I doing. I couldn't be drawing Nika like a fucking psychopath. I stuffed my book into my suitcase and laid down on my bed. Time flew by as I watched more episodes of Outer Banks. So much time went by that when I was about to click 'next episode' to watch the last episode of season 3, Paige knocked on the door. Her head peeked through slowly. she had a devious smile on her lips and just like that her, Azzi, KK, Ice, and Nika busted through my door giggling and jumping around. Great they got high without me. I quickly protected my computer by closing it and putting it on my nightstand. Azzi crawled on top of my bed and sat next to me, placing her head on my shoulder.
While everyone laughed around hitting each other with pillows, I saw Nika standing in the corner on her phone. Her eyes seemed to get less and less dilated the more she tapped her thumbs aggressively on her screen. I stood up and walked up to her.
"You good?" I tried to not be nosey but gave up and looked down at her phone. She slowly handed it to me to show a text that her "boyfriend" sent. They broke up.
I quickly wrapped my arms around Nika and squeezed her tightly.
"He's going to be missing out on a lot love dont' worry"
Nika couldn't help but let a couple tears roll down her face. Just as I thought she was going to collapse and sob into my arms she pulled away and stared into my eyes menacingly. Her fingers quickly wrapped around my hand and began dragging me to the side. I looked up to see Nika leading me outside into the hallway. she led me all the way to Paige and Azzi's room. Without any hesitation she shut the door and locked it behind her.
"Nika what are you doi-" I began to say
"Shut up please."
Before even realizing what was happening I felt Nika press her lips against mine. A small gasp left my mouth but it wasn't a gasp that said I don't want to do this it was a gasp that said don't stop. My tongue quickly found its place against hers. Her hand lifted my thigh up against her hips and I quickly followed what she was doing by lifting my other leg up around her waist. She lifted my entire body up against hers and carried me to the other wall. She pressed my back against the wall and moved her lips down my neck, pausing in-between kisses to leave marks around each vein. My hands were wrapped around the back of her neck, my nails slightly dug into her skin the lower she got.
"Off." She said sternly once her lips reached the edge of my pajama top.
I didn't pause to think about anything and took off my top revealing my sports bra. Her fingers teased at the hem of my pants clearly wanting to take them off. Unfortunately for her it wasn't that easy.
"uh uh. you first"
I looked her dead in the eye and ran my hands across her tank top. Her hand released my waist, not changing the grip my legs had onto her waist. She slipped off her black tank top without breaking our eye contact. Her lips immediately gravitated back to my chest. I couldn't help but let out a soft whine as her lips made their way closer to my stomach.
"I can tell this is what you meant by getting to know each other" she spat before placing a kiss on my lips as she slipped off my pajama bottoms.
"Mind reader much?" I said in response
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The morning after everything that happened that night was unbearable. My eyes slowly blinked open to see Nika laying on my chest. Calm breaths left her mouth followed by a couple snores. I gently slipped out from under her and got dressed. As I walked into the bathroom I realized that I was definitely not in my room. We were both still in Paige and Azzi's room. Fuck fuck fuck.
Before even thinking, I rushed out of the room leaving Nika and ran to my room. The first thing I saw was Paige, Azzi, KK, and Ice laying on me and Nika's beds. Limbs sprawled out and everything. I chose to ignore the girls and ran to he bathroom to brush my teeth and clean myself up before Nika woke up. Once my hair was brushed out I slicked it back into a ponytail and got changed into a light orange sweater and grey Nike shorts. My feet were thankfully covered with a pair of socks. After I got changed and fixed myself up, I rushed back to Paige and Azzi's room to find a still asleep Nika laying on Paige's bed. She was now cuddled up onto the pillow I previously was sleeping on. Her hair was clearly tangled and her mascara was smudged.
I decided to do the most cringey and kidney of weird thing ever but who cares. I grabbed makeup remover and a brush from my bag and started by taking off her mascara. This woke Nika up quickly but she didn't do anything about it but groan. Once her mascara was off, I completely woke her up and helped her sit up so that I could brush her hair. Gently teasing through the tangles, I brushed through her hair. Her eyes were still mainly closed but she still tried her best to loop up at me as I gave her a mini makeover. Not that she needed it.
Once we were both fixed up a word still wasn't exchanged. Just giggling every few minutes. The both of us chose to ignore whatever happened last night even though we were both VERY aware that what happened well. Happened.
The rest of the day went by smoothly. Not many people asked what we were doing in Paige and Azzi's room surprisingly. a few glances were shared throughout the day whether it was when we went out to go shopping or when we went to shoot free throws for fun.
The same thing happened almost every night for the next week. Nika would be in whatever mood she was in so she'd crawl into my arms and lay there until we got each other's clothes off. We stayed like that for what felt like forever until July hit. Things began to get more innocent if you could use that word. The girls began to notice how close we were and how it took us a while to get up out of bed every couple of days. We decided to clear up everything and you know. Date.
Of course not everyone agreed with this. When we made things official, two specific men had very strong opinions about this. Of course when things were officiated my mind was completely blank when it came to the fact that I still had a boyfriend. A shitty one but still.
Now I'm not saying that cheating was the right thing but I mean…it's Nika Muhl who could say no.
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marlsswrites · 4 months ago
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Summer camp AU part 2!!
July 2nd <3
Doctor - @jegulus-microfic - words: 924
Previous part
They walked in total silence, and Regulus was fine with that. It was about a five minute walk through the woods, onto the cobblestone path and towards the entry gates, where they would greet the kids and show them their cabins. Easy.
But Potter didn’t seem okay with the silence, he was doing as told because he got told to shut up multiple times by Regulus. His hands were toying with the gold chain around his neck, he kept ruffling his hair every few minutes and chewing on his lip nervously.
Don’t ask Regulus why he payed so much attention to the Potter boys mannerisms, he just did. No further questions.
After another minute, Regulus felt something sharp and rough catch on his ankle, a vine.
“Fuck!” He hissed as he fell to the floor, James stopping in his tracks and rushing over to him. God, his stupid cute savour complex makes Regulus feel sick.
His ankle was throbbing, he winced as he moved his ankle to the side. “Shit, are you okay? Do you need a doctor?” The older boy panicked, offering Regulus a hand to pull him up. “Can you stand?”
Regulus grabbed James’ unusually soft hand, feeling the coldness of his golden rings as he pulled Regulus from the floor.
Letting out a breath, Regulus examined his foot, it looked quite bad, but that was just from the thorns that sliced his ankle. He seemed to be able to walk fine.
“It’s okay-“ He winced. “I think.” He took a few steps forward, showing that he could walk. The concerned look didn’t wipe from James’ face as he did so. “Really, it looks worse than it is.” He walked towards the brunette, twisting his ankle round a few times and offering a slight smile to show it.
God, he’s going soft.
“Are you sure?” He sweetly spoke, tilting his head to the side.
Regulus nodded and hummed. “Yeah, don’t worry.” He reassured, it was slightly sore, but he could deal. The last thing he wanted was to have James Potter babying him all day.
The frown finally left James’ face, replacing it with a satisfied smile that looked much better on his face.
-
Regulus hit his head against the tree behind him, he thought kids started to get quieter when they hit 13… apparently not.
“Where’s Hannah?” One of them spoke loudly.
He huffed out a loud breath, James giving him a helpless look.
“I’m here!” Someone else hollered, presumably Hannah.
“Spider!!” Another one squealed.
“Wimp!” A fourth voice shouted.
Pushing himself away from the tree, he cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled. “Everyone shut up!”
Silence dawned on the group, 20 pairs of eyes landing on him. “I think you’re supposed to be a bit nicer.” James spoke with a wary smile.
“Well it worked didn’t it Potter?” He challenged, the other man shrugged and started to talk.
“Okay! I’m James, this is Regulus,” He pointed towards Regulus, who gave a tired nod. “Today we’ll just be getting you settled into your homes for the next few weeks…”
Regulus zoned out as James explained the rules of the camp, he let himself admire James for a moment. The way the sunlight turned his skin golden, his hair shining on the sun and his smile wide matched with his sunny bright eyes.
He snapped out of it, glaring at his shoes for a while. No, we’re not doing that, he thought to himself. Fuck.
Five minutes later, the groups were splitting off into boys and girls, when a timid looking teen walked up to him, a wary look on their face.
“Uh, Regulus is it?” Regulus nodded. “I’m not a boy, or a girl… I- where do I go?” They sighed. “I’m June.” They gave a smile.
Regulus let himself smile back. “Wherever you want, it’s up to you. I’d say it’s a privilege if you ask me.” He gave a chuckle, June laughing along slightly.
“Really? So I can go with my friends?”
“Yeah, where are they?” Regulus questioned.
They pointed to someone with two blue braids hung over their shoulders in the group of girls, who looking over at them with a worried and caring look. “That’s Hayley, my best friend. I can house with her then?”
“Of course, if anyone gives you any issues come to me or James, we’ll sort it out.” He gave a sweet smile.
“Thank you so much.” June beamed and ran over to their friend, hugging her and jumping up and down excitedly, Regulus couldn’t help but smile as he watched the two.
Within all of that, he didn’t notice the man approaching behind him. “You’re actually quite sweet aren’t you?” He whipped his head around in shock, greeted with the smiling face of James Potter, who looked overjoyed.
“No I’m not.” He snapped. “And stop sneaking up on me!”
James pouted, a smile still lingering on his lips. “Why is it you’re only mean to me?”
“I’m not that mean to you.” Regulus lied though his teeth.
“Sure you aren’t.” He ruffled Regulus’ raven curls, earning a scowl from the younger boy, but there was an obvious tilt to his lips and flush to his freckled pale skin as James’ wide brown eyes locked with his stormy grey ones.
While walking the kids to the cabins, James would lag behind and check on Regulus’ ankle every once in a while. Why was he so caring? Regulus didn’t have an utter clue how to react to that, it was just… weird.
Next part
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mrsparrasblog · 6 months ago
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Speak now
You and Simon were an unusual pair, at least that's what everyone said about you. You remember how Gaz and Soap laughed for an hour straight when you told them the news that you and Simon were together. You saved people, he killed people; that’s what people saw.
But you saw something different in Simon. He wasn’t tough or aggressive or anything that people told you around the base. In fact, you never had a boyfriend who was so gentle towards you, always afraid to hurt you by accident.
His fear was what finally broke you apart all those years ago. He was afraid to hurt you, to corrupt you with his sins, or even worse, to get you killed like everyone else who cared about him. It was just over.
-----------------------------------------------------
Three years later...
The day finally came: your wedding day, the day you waited more than a decade for. You remembered how you always planned your wedding since you were four. Over the years, the planning became only more intense. You wanted a big wedding cake, peonies everywhere, and no roses in sight; that was too ordinary for you. A dress that embraced your body type instead of hiding it, and definitely a winter wedding since you hated summer; too hot for a wedding, imagine getting sunburned on your wedding day? Terrible.
Your ex-boyfriend Simon always laughed about it, telling you this was the most incredibly dumb thought when it came to a wedding. But he promised you if you tied the knot, you’d get a winter wedding, maybe even a few days before Christmas with a hot chocolate bar, a Christmas tree with signed ornaments from every guest, and a honeymoon in NYC to see Christmas and New Year's Eve there.
So, how did you end up here? It was July, 32 degrees Celsius, and you were sweating your makeup off, which was the worst case since you hid your sunburn under it. Simon would laugh at the irony; of course he would. Then he would tell you some stupid dad joke about sunburns, and you would roll your eyes at him, trying to hide your laughter because it was too embarrassing to admit that you loved every one of his jokes.
But you were here in the church right now, and Simon was only a guest, not your groom, and it was better this way. Simon wasn’t ready to settle down with you; he didn't want kids and everything you wanted, and he was always afraid of committing to you. You just never knew why.
A few months after your breakup, you met James. He was one of the lawyers working for the military and, finally a non-soldier, someone who wanted to settle down with you. He proposed only after a year, and it was magical, at least you thought so.
How didn’t you recognize the signs? How have you never gone out with Price, who was like a Dad to you since your engagement? How you stopped singing and dancing in the shower? How you lost weight only to please him, and how you were stuck in a nightmare wedding?
Well, you should cut him some slack, you thought. It wasn’t that horrible; it was only horrible for you. Other women would love the pile of roses, the tent of a dress you wore, the summer wedding; everything was fine just from a different perspective.
"This will be the happiest day of your life," you mumbled between your breaths as you looked into the mirror, finalizing the last bits of makeup.
"You look beautiful, sweetheart," John hummed, giving you an approving look. You couldn’t contain yourself from hugging him. John was only 10 years older than you, but he grew into a father figure for you. He almost cried when you asked him to walk you down the aisle.
"Thank you, John."
"If you don’t want this, say the word, and I will drive you home."
"John, I want this."
The church was filled to the brim with his and your friends, well, mostly his friends and family. Most of your friends avoided you since your engagement. At least Kyle, Soap, and John were there. You asked Simon if he’d come too; he wasn’t sure at first, but he said he'd come. You needed him there; he was your best friend after all - well, he was before you broke up.
John took your hand, and with him, you walked towards James. Everyone looked at you, and despite everything you didn’t like, you were indeed the most beautiful bride there ever was. Your bridesmaids stood at the altar in their maroon-shaded dresses, smiling towards you. James smiled at you; he didn’t cry, but that's okay; you knew he was more than happy to be here today, with you. But your eyes searched for him; was Simon there?
As everyone stood up, you noticed him, looking down at you with a faint smile. He wore a suit, something you had never seen him wear before. The fabric was stretched across his broad shoulders; the suit trousers were too short for his full height, so his ankles were visible. But despite this, he looked incredible, and without a mask, just for you - he left it at home for you. He was the only one not smiling at you - not important right now. John gave you to James, being the best actor anyone had seen; he hid his despise towards James so well.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
"Th' bride looks absolutely bonny, dinnae ye think sae, Lt.?"
"Go fuck yourself, Johnny."
"Would dae it, bit it wid be a tad disrespectful oan a bridle," Johnny chuckled with a boyish grin while Garrick shot him a death stare, clearly annoyed by Johnny's unableness to behave.
Simon didn’t want to go to the fucking wedding, as if it wasn’t worse enough to know how much he fucked up by breaking up with you. No, he needed to watch that shit now; it was worse than all the torture he endured in his life. He would have said no; he really should have if you hadn’t looked at him with your dear eyes. How could he say no to you? He was just a man after all.
And now he was punished, watching the love of his life marry a bloody wanker. A lawyer, as if you would be happy with that suit-wearing superficial idiot. No, you always wanted and deserved a real man, someone who’d kill for you, someone like him, someone who wouldn’t mind getting dirty for you, someone who respected your wishes. Someone who knew how much you hated summer weddings, roses, and this dress.
Well, you still looked like the most beautiful woman on earth, he thought, but he couldn’t shake the thoughts away that this was not like you; this wasn’t you. That's not what he could give you if he hadn’t been such a bloody coward.
He looked at you and tried to smile; that's the least he could do after giving you up. "Dear friends, and family, we are gathered here today to celebrate the love between the two of them. If you are willing to support the love between the two, then please answer, 'Yes, we will.'"
"Yes, we will," was chanted from the various people at the church, just not from him and Price, who looked more stern than usual.
-------------------------------------------------------------
(Three years ago...)
"Why do you think this is romantic? She left a poor bloke at the altar," Simon looked at you confused at your choice of movie for Netflix and chill.
"If you know, you know, Simon. Just thinking, if you love someone so much, you can be egotistical, you know."
"You’re weird, love," he chuckled while pulling you closer into his embrace.
"If I ever marry, I want a winter wedding with Christmas trees and hot cocoa and snow, lots of snow."
"You'll freeze to death in the dress, love."
"At least no sunburn."
"I've been taking Viagra for my sunburn. It doesn’t cure it, but it keeps the sheets off my legs."
"You're not funny, Simon Riley."
This is not right; everything feels wrong about this for him. And when he looked at you, noticing your eyes were focused on him instead of James, the doubt was gone. He stood up, ignoring the glances from everyone in the room; only you were important now. Who cares if he fucks up, as long as he has you back?
"I love you. I know I'm a fucking bastard for not telling you this ages ago, but I always loved you since the day you bloody screamed at me in the hospital. I love your craziness, your messy hair in the morning, and how you always sing in the shower even if you can't fucking sing. I love you, and I know this isn’t your thing; everything comes with me. Let me be the man you deserve."
Silence. Everyone in the room was torn between anger, silence, and somehow happiness. You knew what you were about to do was the most selfish thing in your life. You gave James an apologetic glance, and much to Simon's surprise, you ran towards him, or more of waddled, which made the whole situation awkward; you really should have trained to walk in your wedding heels. Of course, he scooped you up, running with you out of the church like a madman, putting you in the front seat of his trashy SUV.
"I didn't think you’d agree."
"Me neither."
"I'm glad you did."
"So what now, Simon?"
"Marry me, love; make an honest man out of me. I'll give you everything you want: kids, a corgi, even though shepherds are superior, and I'll build a damn house for you with a bloody wrap-around porch, everything for you, just be Mrs. Riley."
You couldn’t contain your happiness anymore, so you wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss. "Yes, yes, Yes."
"I love you."
"I love you too, always."
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findafight · 2 years ago
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One of these days I'll write that "stobin actually are telepathic but only to each other" story where everyone makes jokes about how they can read each other's minds throughout the eight months post Starcourt so stobin THINK the others know.
They do not.
Not until they're hashing out the final plan in the RV and Steve goes "wait wait wait. Much as I hate to say it, I think Robin and I should split up."
"why?? This is a good plan!"
"well, yeah. But for one, I'm already injured and fighting vecna/Henry/one is probably going to be harder than keeping the bat things distracted, and I don't want to slow you down. TWO walkies don't work in the upside down, so the only way our groups can be in contact if I go with Dustin and Robin goes with Nancy and Eddie to defeat vecna. If something goes wrong we can let the other know."
Dustin, looking incredibly unimpressed, huffs "if walkies don't work, how are you going to let the other know, Steve? How's that work? You got a magic radio?"
Robin, who had been nodding to Steve's suggestion, says "through our mindmeld, duh. We tested how far it stretches when I went to Chicago to visit my Nonna over new years and it took like, an hour away from Hawkins to finally cut out. We'll totally be able to think at each other from across town."
And the motorhome goes silent. For a second. Then
"what the fuck do you MEAN mindmeld"
"wait, are you saying every time we joked about you reading each other's minds you actually meant it!?"
"are you telling me that not only is there a creepy evil Hawkins and a superhero girl, but also mind reading? Have you been reading my mind!?"
And Robin and Steve are befuddled because obviously?? They can read each other's minds?? (Or at least, what they send to each other) everyone has been joking about it since summer?
Apparently everyone else thought they were having eye contact conversations when they were actually having intense internal mind debates over what candies to get at the movies. Though sometimes they were just having eye contact conversations.
Anyways they switch the groups and promise to answer questions about their telepathy after everything is done even though it's not their fault no one believes them when they said "we can read each other's minds" when asked how they knew what the other was thinking back in July. No one dies.
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autisticlenaluthor · 5 months ago
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Hi, my name is Rory, I’m going to the Eras Tour in Amsterdam on July 5th and if you guys could somehow help me get this to @taylorswift / @taylornation - it would mean so much to me
Three years ago, I went from being perfectly healthy, to watching my body and my health rapidly deteriorate. My entire world got turned upside down— I lost the ability to eat, drink, and even stand for more than a few minutes.
I don't remember much from when I first got sick. But I know I listened to Mr Perfectly Fine on a loop almost every day because it was the only song that could capture how I felt. I've known and loved Taylor's music since I was six-years-old and first heard the album Fearless. i remember the first song I ever heard (love story) like it was yesterday; but somewhere during that time, her music became like therapy for me.
Since 2021, I've been diagnosed with three incurable diseases. two of these are rare, and one is predicted to only get worse with time. I've spent countless days inpatient on the peds floor receiving treatment, tests, and surgeries. And through all of it-- I've leaned heavily on Taylor's music.
My mom bought our Era's tour tickets last summer during the Europe pre-sale. I was in the hospital at the time and immediately told all of my nurses, doctors, dietitians and basically anyone who came into my room, that a year from then, i'd be seeing taylor swift. Whenever I could get out of bed, I was in the playroom with my child life specialists, making friendship bracelets to give out to other Swifties at the show. The thought of going to the Eras Tour singlehandedly kept me going through the hardest time of my life. And it's kept me going ever since.
Months later, I was hospitalized again, right before the release of 1989 TV. I'd been admitted the day after seeing The Eras Tour Movie in theaters (I was in theater 13, row 13!!) and I remember being so relieved that I hadn't had to miss it.
I had become known by most of the nurses as "the Taylor Swift girl” and the night before another procedure, I stayed up until midnight with everyone else so I could listen to 1989 TV. Hearing those songs-- I felt the happiest I'd been in so long. I felt normal again. I was sick and I was alone but I was connected to every other person who'd stayed up with me and that feeling was indescribable.
Taylor gave that to me, and so much more.
Over the course of my journey, I've listened to Sparks Fly to keep me calm while my doctors inserted feeding tubes down my nose. Whenever I have to be put under anesthesia, I have a nurse put her music on shuffle so I can listen to it as I fall asleep. When I had my big surgery in December, the last thing I remember was Bad Blood playing in the OR and saying "this is a funny song to have surgery to".
All of this is to say, Taylor has given me strength and hope during the worst part of my life, and she continues to do so. Her music is truly everything to me and getting to go the the Era's Tour is already a dream come true on it's own. And if it's possible - being able to receive the 22 hat and give Taylor a friendship bracelet would make all of that pain feel worth it. It would mean everything to me.
if you could reblog this and tag @taylorswift and @taylornation I'd appreciate that so much!! thank you to everyone whose read this far, and everyone whose shared this <3
EDIT: I’m going to be in section 119, row 20, seat 11
also if anyone is interested, I included some pics of the mentioned moments below the cut!
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seeing the eras tour movie the day before having to be admitted, and then making friendship bracelets for tour in the hospital
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the mirrorball is hung in my room for good luck
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the bracelets i’d started making in the hospital, right after getting the tickets
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and the day of the 1989 TV release - id stayed up until midnight to listen to the album, and then had my anesthesiologist play ‘Style’ for me to play while they put me out for my procedure
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hhoneylemon · 22 days ago
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𝘣𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘵. 𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘢
jess mariano x reader
genre; fluff
word count; 896
summary; jess annotates a book for reader and then proceeds to rethink every decision he’s ever made.
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reader pov
I had stopped by at Luke’s Diner to grab a coffee and have a small chat with Jess in the morning. He described a book he had recently read, saying it had been turned into a movie that disrespected the name.
“It’s so bad. Like, they changed multiple events and even one of the characters names. Don’t forget how everyone interacts with each other… it basically just shares the same name as the book is all.”
It was interesting seeing how frustrated he got about it, and I smiled at him.
“What book is this?”
His eyes widen a tad as he realizes he didn’t even say.
“I Know What You Did Last Summer. Lois Duncan.”
I nod, interested. I’d heard of the movie before, I think, in passing from my best friend. She and her mother watch a lot of things together, this might’ve been one she talked about.
“Did you like the book?”
I take a sip from my coffee, allowing the warmth of the drink to wake me up a bit more.
“Yeah, it was good. I annotated it as I read, if you want to borrow it.”
I smile at the offer, nodding along.
“I’d like that.”
And so here I sit, comfortably on my bed as I read the book. Jess’s annotations were always interesting. He didn’t only look at suspicious details in the story, he also had a soft spot for some of the romantic moments. It made me smile whenever I saw one, that goof.
The book was good, as he had said it was. I knew that Jess had written his full thoughts in the very back, so once I finished, I took everything in to form my opinions. I then open to the back to compare.
I didn’t expect a small folded paper to fall out. A little ‘huh’ escapes from my lips as I unfold it, reading it. I almost laugh at the simplicity of it. A note saying ‘Will you go on a date with me?’ with two boxes, one for yes and one for no. I snort in amusement, before placing it beside me to read his thoughts.
They were agreeable. It was well written and the. characters were developed. Barry was an asshole and Ray came off kinda creepy during some parts of the book.
Once I finish reading his thoughts, I turn my attention back to the note. I pick it up and walk to my desk, grabbing a pen. I checkmark the yes box and slide the note back into the book, knowing I’ll drop it off before dinner.
jess pov
What was I thinking.
Metallica pulses through the air as I stare at the ceiling. I’m lying on the floor as I collect my thoughts. I just asked out Y/n, and in probably the most stupid way possible.
What else can I do, I guess? And it’s too late anyways, they’re bound to have seen it by now.
Perhaps it isn’t the end of the world. If they say no, I’ll lose a close friend, but I’ll survive. Maybe I’ll be regretting who I am for a while, but I’ll survive.
The notes of Nothing Else Matters ring in my ears like a bell. I hum along faintly, occupying myself from my thoughts.
I pick myself up when there’s a knock on my bedroom door.
“Yes?”
Luke pops his head in, looking at me with tired eyes.
“C’mon. Dinner rush about to come in.”
And so I turn off my CD player and trudge down to the diner, ready to serve the rush. I head to the counter like my uncle asks me to and take peoples orders, scribbling in the notepad and dismissing them to a table. I hand the notepad to Luke to take to whoever’s cooking and repeat the process who knows how many times, when my attention is grabbed by a familiar face entering the diner.
Y/n approaches the counter with a friendly smile, brandishing my copy of I Know What You Did Last Summer. They place it on the counter, and I take it into my hands.
“Thoughts?”
I watch them lean against the counter and think for a moment.
“Well, I thought it was good. Barry was terrible to Helen, Ray was kinda freaky, Julie’s mom was a real one, some of the scenes were cool. The gunshot during the fireworks show was clever, I liked that. A crazed brother is a little silly, I wonder what happened to poor Megan. I feel bad for the parents of the little boy. I liked Helen but thought she was a little dim for not realizing what Barry was up to. His mom was annoying. I also like how you annotate books, by the way. Seeing your thought process is really interesting while I’m having my own, y’know?”
Y/n finishes, looking at me. Their look is knowing, so I know they read the note. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I wonder what they’ll say, if anything. The silence that follows what they say is awkward.
And then, “I’ll go out with you.”
They hand me the note, and I see that they checked off the yes box. I look up and see them smiling at me. I give a small smile back.
Maybe it wasn’t a mistake after all.
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