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#Gold Coast clear bulk
ranger-ribbons · 7 months
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dropping off food for them during a stressful day + Samurai Rangers; Spike, Bulk & the Rangers when Ji isn't around (because fuck that guy)
Oh, same! I live for Ji slander. He literally took a morpher that wasn't hit to take because "the team has to choose him." Nah, fuck that. Anyway! Here ya go!
~
Bulk glances around as he peaks around the corner. The Shiba house is one Bulk knows well from repeated visits here when the asshole who watches the house isn't around.
Determining the coast is clear, Bulk nods. "Alright, Spike," he says. "Let's go."
Spike pops around the corner looking around himself. He grins, chewing loudly on his ever-present stick of gum. With a quick giggle-snort, Spike comes out from behind the corner, arms laden with food galore. Antonio, their contact for the current Ranger team, had texted them that it had been a long day and the battle was difficult. Bulk, who's been helping protect Rangers since the first teams, knows exactly what this means.
He'd made plenty of food for the Rangers.
Quietly, he heads up to the door of the Shiba house and knocks, quick and light. A man with spikey hair and dark eyes opens the door. He wears a white shirt and a plaid black-gold-and-white overshirt. His jeans are dark and the bandana around his neck is colored with grey and gold. He smiles. "Hola, mis amigos," he greets.
"Hey," Bulk replies. "Brought a little of everything. Hope that's okay."
"More than!" Antonio Garcia assures excitedly. "None of us feel like cooking and I'm only good with fish, so this?" He takes the box Bulk holds in his hands and cracks it open. It's meatloaf, the aroma wafting out over the yard. Antonio hums, appreciative. "This is fantastico!" he says.
"Antonio, who's at the door?" shouts someone inside.
Bulk panics, thinking it to be the asshole- Ji Watanabe. It sounds awful, truthfully, but Bulk finds that Ji is horrible. Bulk's worked with a lot of Ranger teams before and no mentor has ever been as terrible as Ji. Bulk resents the man for a lot of things, but not the least of which for taking away a Ranger's morpher. Even Zordon hadn't done that to the original Green Ranger. Bulk hopes he never meets Ji- for Ji's sake, if not Bulk's.
"Dinner!" Antonio shouts over his shoulder. "Come help me get it inside!"
The door creaks open and Bulk is shocked and saddened to see bumps and bruises and cuts and bandages on the face of a boy who couldn't be older than Spike. Shaggy hair that hung in his blue-green eyes and a piercing, hundred-yard stare. "Oh," he says, instinctually polite. "Welcome to the Shiba home."
Bulk offers a short bow, a dip of his head, in hopes that he's seen as respectful of the Samurai line. "Thank you," he says politely. "I brought food for you and the team."
Jayden Shiba smiles, seeming just... tired. "Thanks," he says. Holding out a hand, he grabs a few Tupperware bowls from an awe-stricken Spike and begins to head inside. "Come on in!"
Antonio gives them sunny smiles, bright and optimistic in the way only a Sixth Ranger could be, and backs up. "Come on in, I'll show you to the kitchen."
Bulk could find the kitchen blindfolded if he so chose to. Still, he follows Antonio with Spike on his heels. If it helps the Rangers, Bulk will do anything and if all he can do is drop off food when their asshole mentor isn't around, then Bulk will do everything he can and more.
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medicalonburleighau · 7 months
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Choose a Specialist for Your Medical Needs
Finding the perfect Bulk billing Doctor Burleigh Gold Coast for you as well as your family is as difficult and crucial as deciding where to live, what career to pursue, and which school to send your children to. With a doctor deficit in the United States, patients facing lengthier wait times, and a scarcity of doctors in remote regions.
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It is critical to sit down and question yourself and your loved ones if you require the services of a primary care physician. These experts provide diagnoses and treatment for a wide range of common ailments, as well as patient education, Paediatric Occupational Therapy Near Me with a specialist, and guidance. Remember that the family doctor you choose should stay with your family for many years and not be changed on a frequent basis.
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That being stated, here are five pointers for locating the finest doctor for your health-related requirements.
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Once you have found Osteopath Gold Coast, have an open dialogue with him or her, ask lots of questions, and expect lots of answers. This is critical in determining whether the doctor is fit for you and will be open, honest, and transparent about your health.
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Online
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skipsforhire · 1 year
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Hiring a skip bin has become necessary, especially when there is waste in bulk for removal. Rubbish removal at construction sites, renovation activity or where demolition work is going on becomes essential. It’s because, in all these activities, a tremendous waste is generated, which can be harmful and messy to people. So it’s crucial to work on a demolition waste removal plan to carry out the job effectively and smoothly. Choose skip bin hire companies in your area that provide skip bins at the demolition sites.
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Ezi Skips is a skip bin hire company in the Gold Coast area. They are the best if you require skip bins hire for demolition removal.
This blog highlights the tips required for using a skip bin for waste removal on a demolition site. Let’s look into them.
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The demolition involves many life-threatening dangers, so safety should always be your top priority. It’s highly recommended that people who are unauthorized be away from the skip. Ensure the space around your skip should be clear of trash that will not cause any damage to people. Avoid smoking around your skip, or don’t light a fire nearby.
2.       Hazardous Waste Disposal
The professionals find various hazardous materials when carrying out demolition work in Australia. The material, such as asbestos, is dangerous and needs to be disposed of carefully. Other types of waste also include solvents, paints, acids, laboratory waste, oils, and grease traps. Companies must use HAZARDOUS WASTE sign boards to alert people about dangerous waste areas.
3.       Wear PPE
People involved in the waste removal work should wear high-visibility clothing, hard hats, gloves, steel-capped boots, eye protection and earplugs. This is because dust, noise and heavy loose materials significantly cause safety concerns on a demolition site. Site visitors should strictly follow health and safety rules.
4.       Cove your Skip Bin
·         A lot of waste must be discarded on a demolition site, so you should not allow other people to fill up your skip. Here are a few things you can do:
·         Use a security light in the direction of your skip
·         Cover your skip using a tarp
·         Don’t place the skip open in the street
·         Ensure to fill the skip quickly.
5.       Book your Skip early
In summer, the demand for skip bins increases sharply. So with this spike, the prices also rise. So it’s good if you place your skip bin requirements early.
Follow these tips to use a skip bin for demolition waste removal.
Learn More
* All about Skip Bin Hire for Removing White Goods
* Ideas on various kinds of skip bins available for hire
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tgreen2001 · 2 years
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Entry 2 (Week 5 “Teamwork”): For my first group assessment we decided to talk about the Adelaide Crows training camp in the summer of 2018 that took place up on the Gold Coast for our sporting scandal. I think we worked well as a team everyone did their part of the assignment and on time. No one was slacking back and letting one or two people do bulk of the work everyone knew what they were doing and got it done and did it well. Communication could’ve been a bit better, but we had an Instagram DM group chat set up so if anyone wanted to clear something up or ask any questions they could. I also made sure we got to class as a group an hour before the presentation so we could go over any last-minute changes or last-minute queries as a group in person and we could also rehearse and work out who was going to say what so our presentation could look organised and well put together. With the peer reviewed feedback, I focused closely on what people had to say about my performance and the entire group obviously. With my personal performance Ena said I was saying “um” to much which I agree with. That’s going to be a key focus of mine for upcoming oral presentations try not to say “um” to much and try to make my sentences flow better. Feedback we got as a group was mostly about trying to maintain eye contact more and have more audience engagement and not to make things so repetitive which I think we did as well. Some people in the group spoke for to long as well in my opinion and that’s where the repetitiveness came in, I feel like. If our presentation was cut down a little bit, it would’ve made it so much better and flowed more easily. Overall though I still think we did a good job but definitely took in a few learning experiences for the future.
Brunot, Huguet, P., & Monteil, J. (1999). Performance feedback and self-focused attention in the classroom: When past and present interact. Social Psychology of Education, 3(4), 271. https://www.proquest.com/docview/821714464?pq-origsite=primo
ARTEFACT:
(Couldn’t get the teamwork survey transferred here but it is on the word doc version of my assessment)
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caddyjust · 2 years
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Deadmines vanilla loot
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hamrickhartmann · 2 years
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foxsantos · 2 years
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elliottbanke · 2 years
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megacartsstore · 2 years
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wealthypioneers · 2 years
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ottenyholm69 · 2 years
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arrarioxxx · 4 years
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How Many
Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader
Summary: Geralt is angry and suspicious that you may have been with other men since you last saw each other 
Warning(s): SMUT (18+), language, punishment, mild praise kink??, unprotected sex, pain, name calling, choking. 
Words: 3,273
Seriously just throwing this out here to see if anyone likes it. it’s actually a not OK amount of filth. please don’t hate me. 
“Set up a bath in my room,” He flicks a coin at you and lumbers into the darkest corner. You don’t have to watch to know he’s getting drunk- or at least, as drunk as a Witcher can get. It’s a familiar dance between you and him. 
You silently signal to one of the kitchen boys to begin heating water. He likes scalding baths, hot enough to scorch human flesh. He needed it too- you saw heady crimson staining the skin of his neck and desperately hoped it wasn’t his. The sticky black substance matting his hair was certainly not his. 
“The large tub.” You instruct one of the older boys. “And fill it more than half.”
He’s going to need it. 
Almost a half-hour after Gerald went up to his room, you finally clear out the last of your patrons. It’s much later than you expect, nearing midnight. You negotiate with yourself for a few moments- check on Geralt or no? He’s no child for you to worry about his well-being but some sick desire prompts you to conjure an excuse to go to him. 
You didn’t see him eat earlier. He’s going to need food. 
You silently heap a tray with meat, bread, and a large flagon of ale. You can’t help but reproach yourself for the desperate attention you’re paying this man yet you tamp down your self-disgust and ascend the stairs.
It suddenly occurs to you that he’s only said a handful of words to you this evening. For that matter, he’s barely even looked in your direction. You stop just outside his door and wonder what twisted hold he has over you. He has you asking like a schoolgirl with her first infatuation. 
More like a dog begging after a negligent master. 
A shameful idea creeps into the back of your mind, “you’re just his bitch."
You weakly push open the door, making sure to lock it behind you and tightly grip the tray. 
The tub is in the far corner, near the roaring fireplace and he’s lounged back with massive arms draped over the edge. 
“I brought you something to eat.” Your voice fades into the oppressive silence. 
He doesn’t reply. He doesn’t even acknowledge your presence.
You hesitantly approach him and lay the tray on the closest table. But even then, you hover there, waiting for some approval like a kicked puppy. 
Just as your rational mind begins to speak up, telling you to gather what's left of your dignity and leave him chamber, he sighs heavily. 
“Bring it here.” He flicks two fingers in a lazy ‘come hither’ motion. You may as well be a serving boy for all the attention he’s paid you. 
Still, you obey and bring the tray to him, placing it on the low stool by his bath. From where you stand, you have a clear view of him through the steaming water. The thick cording of his neck and arms, the slabs of flesh padding his chest, the heavy bulk of his calves, his thighs, his-. 
His skin is deeply bronzed, nicked by old scars and freshly healing wounds. All of it shaded by whorls of dark silver hair, darker than the tangled mess around his shoulders, dripping water onto the stone floor. 
The longer you stand, the more dazed you become. The fire and steaming water flush your skin until beads of sweat roll down your neck, dampening the collar of your gown. Even then, your leaden feet hold you in place. You can’t take your eyes off his body. 
You stand there watching for longer than you know, only startled out of your trance when Geralt hauls himself to his feet and steps out of the tub. 
Only when you meet his eyes for the first time in months do you realize how truly terrifying he is. Not just because of what he does or what he can do, but because he is eyes are filled with rage and focused on you. 
You don’t even have time to admire his nakedness in motion as he covers the distance to you in one step, sloshing water out of the tub. The hem of your gown is soaked but it escapes your notice as your heart beats faster and faster. 
He can certainly hear it, you think. He can smell your blood coursing and knows your knees are locked otherwise you would collapse at his feet. 
This must be how his victims feel moments before they meet the sweet ice of his blade. 
Geralt grasps the front of your gown, fingers hooking between the coarse fabric and your heated flesh, and drags you to him. The other hand grips your jaw and tilts your face up until your eyes meet his. 
"Either get your mouth on my cock or get the fuck out.”
It sounds like he’s given you a choice but you understand it was an order. 
You drop to your knees and coast shaking palms up his wet, hairy thighs. 
You place soft kisses up his shaft, hoping your attentions would cool his temper but it’s not working. His muscles are coiled and tight, ready to spring at a moment’s notice. You’re afraid to look up and see soulless black eyes rather than the warm gold you’ve gotten used to. You circle your tongue around the head and lightly score the insides of his thighs with your fingernails 
His fingers twitch, then burrow into your hair, jerking your lips off him. He tilts your head up and forces your gaze up- his eyes aren’t the dreaded empty black but still so, so frightening. Now, more than ever, he looks like a Witcher. He presses his fingers into the hollows of your cheeks, forcing your lips into an open pout.
“Pathetic.”
His eyes flick up to yours and suddenly you’re cold and alone, kneeling on the cold, wet stone. He’s already walking to the bed. He throws himself down, legs splayed wide. From where you’re kneeling, you have a clear view of his heavy cock and balls between his thighs. 
You follow silently and drop to your knees between his feet. You don’t know what to do with your hands but he doesn’t give you time to figure it out. 
“Open your mouth." You open. It doesn’t even occur to you to do anything but what he commands. 
“Wider.” He presses two, then three fingers past your lips, and keeps going until you gag. He retreats for a moment then pushes deeper. 
 The other hand is busy tearing at the neckline of your dress. You hear the stitches pop as he yanks it to your waist, trapping your arms at your sides. There’s so much going on you can barely think. His fingers are still fucking your mouth, spit dripping down his wrist and onto your heavy breasts and he’s twisting your nipple, pinching hard. Your eyes are watering and blurring your vision until all you see is a white and bronze haze looming over you. 
Then his fingers are gone and his cock is at your lips. You blink away the tears as he grips the sides of your face with both hands. 
“If I feel your teeth a single time-“ the threat is lost to you as he starts fucking in earnest. 
He’s twisting your face from side to side, getting deeper, breeching your throat with a loud groan. Your nose is pressed to the damp curls at the bast of his cock and your lips are stretched tight. 
With one hand fisting your hair, he jerks your head back and forth. Now he’s just using your face for pleasure. Or punishment. 
He hasn’t allowed you to take a breath since he started and your vision blackens around the edges.
He pulls out and slaps you once. “I’m not done with you, girl.” He slaps you again and it occurs to you that he hasn’t said your name at all. 
You gasp out his name weakly, “Geralt, please.” Your ears are still ringing from the slap. You don’t even know what you’re pleading for. You hurriedly push your arms out of your sleeves and press your palms to his thighs. 
He guides your lips back to his cock and starts again. The dizzying lack of oxygen coupled with the heat in the room dulls your senses until you give in to him. Your hands are uselessly draped over his knees but at least you don’t feel as helpless as you did when they were tangled in the sleeves of your gown. 
He’s never been like this before. He’s always rough and a little mean, but this is violent and punishing. He’s angry with you and you don’t understand why. 
He finally releases your head and watches, almost bored, as you gasp for air. After a few short moments to recover, you’re hauled to your feet. 
“Geralt, I don’t understand-“
“Show me your cunt.”
“What?”
He doesn’t repeat himself.
You ruck your dress up to your waist and wait. 
He kicks your feet further apart then palms your folds. You’re embarrassingly wet, especially after what he just did. 
He pulls his fingers away- they’re shiny with your juices. 
“I knew you were just a whore.”
You gasp at his cruel accusation but then take stock of the situation. There he is, sitting on the bed, sucking your arousal off his fingers. And there you are, tits out, legs spread, holding your dress at your waist showing off your glistening folds. 
Was he wrong?
He slid his hand between your legs and thrusts two fingers up into you. Your eyes roll back in your head and your legs begin to shake. You grip his wrist with one hand and his shoulder with the other, hoping he won’t let you lose balance. 
“How many people fucked my cunt?”
You barely hear his words over the steady buzz in your ears.”
He grips your chin and forces you to look at him. 
“How many bastards have fucked this since I did?" His fingers stop massaging then cruelly twist your folds until your knees go weak. 
“Please Geralt- I didn’t-"
His grip tightens at your throat, cutting off your desperate words. You want to tell him no, you could never let another man fuck you after he did. He’d ruined you for all other men. You want to say you dreamed of his cock every night since he left. But he won’t let you breathe, let alone speak. 
"Don’t remember?”
He presses three fingers into you, stretching you open.
"Has it been that many?”
You’re desperately shaking your head and choking out broken words.
“No-“ you’re clawing at his arm as he lifts you to your toes. “No one-“ 
"Has my whore been spreading her legs for every man who looks twice?"
He slaps between your legs- hard enough to force a ragged scream from your lips. He does it again, enjoying the way your panicked eyes lose focus with the burning pain. The sound isn’t pleasant. It’s a sloppy, dull thwack. But he likes the way your feet kick when he does it.
You don’t know what to focus on, the hand tightening around your throat or the hand abusing your delicate womanhood. 
 It occurs to you that he’s killed monsters and demons, what’s a lonesome woman to him? He could break your neck now and no one would ever be the wiser. 
Then wedges two thick fingers into you and skates his thumb over your clit. 
“Your cunt’s still tight for me.” He lifts you higher up by the fingers hooked inside you, ignoring your feeble attempts to push his hand away. “What’s the problem? My fingers stretch you more than their cocks?”
He laughs harshly and without any warning, he releases his grip on your throat and pulls his hand away. You collapse to your knees and suck in much-needed air. 
"Get up" he nudges your thigh with one large foot. As you stand, he drags the rest of your dress down your hips, tearing carelessly, and tosses it on the floor. 
“I’m going to teach you who cunt belongs to."
“It’s yours.” You hastily whisper, hoping to appease him. 
“Oh, sweetheart,” he smiles humorlessly and caresses your face. “I know that.”
The gentle hands tighten into a bruising grip on your arms, “I’m going to make sure you never forget.”
He spins you around and pulls you back onto his lap. He crosses your arms behind your back and lashes them tightly with a leather belt. Now you’re fully at his mercy. 
This new position presents you with an obscene image in the mirror. You already look thoroughly debauched- lips swollen and red from his cock, chin and tits glistening where your spit soaked the skin, your inner thighs and cunt violently pink. 
Your back is pressed to his chest and your thighs straddle his, hooked in place and opening up your most private places. If that wasn’t humiliating enough, you see the glistening purple head of his cock jutting out from between your legs. You gasp every time it brushes the tender skin of your folds. 
He has complete control of your body and he immediately takes full advantage of it. He spreads his legs wider, inch by inch, taking your thighs along. You watch breathlessly as your swollen, pink folds come into view. He keeps going and then you see your lips part open, just a sliver.
 Your hips feel tight, stretched to their limit when finally he stops moving. He forces your gaze back to the mirror where you see the emptiness in his eyes. 
 He catches your gaze in the mirror and rests his chin on your shoulder as he softly strokes your thighs. “Tell the truth, girl. How many men took this cunt?”
You furiously shake your head and stumble over your words, “none, no men, Geralt. I swear to you. No men.”
One palm glides over your thigh and his index finger dips into your juices, dragging them up to circle your clit. 
“None? Really?”His voice is soft but it feels so wrong.
“None,” You gasp as he circles faster. Your head falls back onto his shoulder and you arch up to press into his finger. 
“I don’t believe you,” he whispers kissing your neck as he rears his palm high and brings it down on your clit. 
Your shriek is loud enough to wake the dead as you jerk forward in shock. You don’t feel the blinding pain for a few long moments then it hits you in one white-hot wave. If not for his iron-hard arm banded around your belly, you would have ended up slumped on the floor in a writhing mess. Instead, you’re in a forced upright position as he begins petting between your thighs again. 
You desperately try to close your legs but he’s too strong. 
“Now, why don’t you tell me the truth? 5 men? 10? More than that?” His voice is still deceptively soft and kind. The cruel accusations are whispered against your neck and punctuated by kisses. 
You shake your head again, "I swear Geralt. No man I swear.” You don't realize your cheeks are wet or that your voice is shaking.
“Don’t cry, my sweet.” He presses his lips to your cheek as his fingers skillfully manipulate your clit. "You and I both know that's not true. If you just tell me the truth now your punishment won't be as bad.”
You hate how good he makes your feel and helplessly arch up to meet his hand again. 
"Please don't hurt me," you whisper.
"I don't want to." He flicks his tongue against your ear. "But you know this cunt belongs to me. So if you don't want to be honest, you have to be punished more."
It takes you a moment to realize what he means but by then he's already lifting his palm. 
"I want you to count” 
“No, please-“
He lays another hard slap directly on your clit that sends you reeling. It’s only his tight grip around your waist holding you up. 
“Count for me.” He sucks on your sweat-dampened skin, marking you over and over again. 
“One,” you sob as you stiffen, anticipating the next strike.
It doesn’t come immediately but eventually lands slightly to the right this time. 
“Two.”
“Good girl,” His praise still makes you glow with pride. 
“Three.” You’re barely breathing now- everything is hot and cold and black and white. You can’t tell if it’s pain or pleasure anymore as he alternates between stroking and slapping. 
“Four.” 
“Look how pretty you are.” His palm comes down again and he kisses your cheek when you brokenly mumble ‘five’. 
"I didn't let anyone touch me, I swear.” You whisper one last time hoping he’ll believe you.
"I know you didn’t,” he holds you painfully tight. “And now you know what I’ll do to you if you do.” 
 He tosses you back on the bed and spreads your legs wide. 
You’re too dazed to do anything. He wedges his shoulders between your legs and presses your knees to the sheets.
He bites into the flesh of your inner thigh, almost drawing blood and when he pulls back, you see a clear imprint of his teeth in a vicious bruise. He does the same to the other side and then swipes his tongue through your folds. 
“You’re so wet for me.” He presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss against your clit and sucks gently and you nonsensically beg for more. He keeps going, this time only pleasure. His tongue lashes back and forth, soft then harder, alternating every few moments to keep you on edge. 
You’re helpless above him, arms still bound behind your back. He doesn’t stop after your first peak, or your second and holds your thighs open when they threaten to clamp down on his head. 
Finally, after three, he pulls away and crawls up your body to wipe away tears of pain and release. He reaches behind you to loosen the belt and slide it off then massages your stiff shoulders. Amid the haze of satiation, you reach down to grip his cock and stroke the iron length. 
“You want my cum, sweet girl?” He groans against your hair. 
You nod and tighten your grip, momentarily forgetting about the burn between your legs and the ache in your arms. He must have some sort of enchantment over you to keep you so needy and wanting to please. 
He groans again and hauls himself up, straddling your hips and hunching over you to take your breasts in his hands. 
“Where do you want it? You want my cum on these tits? Or maybe-“ he reaches around to press one finger against the one place he’d never touched before. “Maybe you want it deep in here.” 
Your eyes widen at the implication and you hesitantly shake your head. The thought has appeal but you’re afraid you can’t handle it tonight. 
“Tell me,” He rises to his knees and slowly starts jerking his cock over you. He spits between your breasts and slaps his cock against your sternum. 
“Hold your tits tight for me,” he guides your hands to the right place then begins sawing back and forth. “Tell me where you want it.”
“My face.” You can’t believe the words came out of your mouth but you refuse to take them back. 
Geralt raises his eyebrows, silently impressed by your demand. He furiously picks up his pace fucking your tits until his cum starts leaking then hastily pulls away to jerk his release over your upturned face. 
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Dare: The Glittering Reef: 
“While the dragon may long be dead, there’s more than one predator in these waters. You best be quick if you wish to claim your prize.“
Setup: Generations ago the crystal clear waters of the Ildathan coast ran red with blood, as a terrible archdrake terrorized the trade routes and savaged any merchant ship it caught eyes on. Known to locals as Hullraker, this beast would use its powerful claws to crack open the body of ships to gorge itself on sailors and treasure alike. 
While its a myth that dragons eat gold, they do sometimes devour valuable objects to spit up into their hordes later. This habbit would eventually lead to the drake’s defeat, as a group of clever pirates tired of the drake’s meddling caste a series of golden cannonballs, then hollowed them out and filled them with black powder, and an alchemical compound that would ignite after being exposed to the drake’s insides for some length of time.  Loading up a dummy ship with their deadly decoys and piles of coin as bait, they watched in glee as the drake’s belly exploded mid air, showering the sea with golden shrapnel and sending Hullraker plunging into the reef below. 
The Challenge: Since the time of its death, treasure hunters have paddled out to the glimmering reef in the hopes of  reclaiming a portion of the dragons last, fatal meal. Having stripped most of the upper reef clear of coins. Now after years of plundering only the strongest of divers can make it down to the dark, shark infested shelf of the reef where the dragon’s bones and the bulk of its treasure remains. Tradition is that each diver only takes a single coin, and while one gold piece isn’t much to an adventure, a “drowned queen” (one of the particular printing of coins the pirates used for the bulk of their bait) is a mighty prize among sailors and other folk of the sea, said to confer the luck and cunning of the pirates that took Hullraker down. 
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lumosinlove · 4 years
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Coast To Coast
part vii
Harvard University, 2014
There must have been a greater power taunting him.
“Sexy!” Anderson—forward, number 77, alternate captain—had said in the locker room. “That is this year’s Halloween theme, boys. Bring your girls, bring your booze, bring your minimal clothing, bring your A-game.”
Sexy. That was definitely just what Logan needed for his first OKN house halloween party. His new teammates. In minimal clothing.
He rolled onto his back on his dorm bed with a sigh, continuing to scroll through his phone while he waited for Finn to get out of their shared bathroom.
Finn O’Hara. Harzy, the boys called him. Right wing but didn’t always play that way, number 17, a sophomore. Originally from New York City. Logan’s new roommate.
“It’s how it works, rookie,” Anderson had said. “Baby OKs share. You’ll get your own room eventually.”
Logan was fine having a roommate. He had had one at prep school. He didn’t even care if they were messy, he was sure he was twice as bad. But Finn O’Hara. Red hair, six foot even, brown eyes—bambi, the boys called him. A little on the thinner side, but Logan could tell he could bulk up if he wanted to. Finn O’Hara.
There must have been some greater power taunting him.
“Fuck,” Finn’s voice came from within the bathroom. The door was open, but not enough for Logan to see anything. “My balls are going to hate me.”
Logan snorted. “We wear spandex every other day of the year.”
“Yeah, breathable sports spandex, not this plastic shit. Jesus fuck,” there was a groan. “At least I look alright.”
“Stop staring at yourself and let me get in there.”
“Okay, okay,” Finn said, and Logan watched the door move as he pushed it open.
The universe hated him.
Finn was some sort of gladiator, Logan thought, with nothing on but a red cape that clasped around his neck and shoulders, and a pair of tight, gold underwear that left nothing to Logan’s imagination. They had a fake, foam sword clipped at the hip. He had gold paint on beneath his eyes, streaked like a football player, and a gold laurel crown sitting in his red hair. His pale skin was creamy against the gold and the frame of the dark red cape. He had cheap looking sandals on that went all the way up his strong calves, biting into the muscle a little.
Finn spread his arms, turning in a slow circle. “Look at these fucking things. Who makes these and why?”
Logan swallowed, looking at the gold underwear. “For frat parties, I’m guessing.”
“Yeah,” Finn laughed and then bent over his bed to fold his discarded clothes up. His cape slipped away from his back and Logan sat up abruptly.
“Merde, Harzy, those things are barely holding onto you.”
“I told you, my dick is gonna hate me,” Finn said loudly.
Logan smiled and swiped his party city bag from his dresser. “Souhaite moi bonne chance.”
“Swat bon,” Finn rolled his eyes.
Logan laughed and slipped into the bathroom. He could hear Finn putting some music on as he undressed, singing along softly under his breath. Logan gave himself a moment to close his eyes and breathe, fingering his necklace. He’d known Finn for a little over two months. That was it. And already he liked him in the morning. He liked him drunk off his ass. He liked him on the rare lazy day, still under his covers reading a book and wearing his glasses. His glasses. Dark tortoise shell things that turned amber in the sunlight, like his eyes, and just—fuck. He liked Finn on the ice and like it when they were on the same line, something that was happening more and more frequently. He liked Finn, and Finn seemed to like him well enough, and Coach liked them together. The found each other on the ice every time. Logan had never had that before.
Logan rubbed his hands over his face and then reached into the plastic bag for his costume—if he could call it that. A black cape, clasped by the yellow and black Batman symbol, the iconic mask that covered his eyes, and what could only be called underwear. They were black and shiny, with the bat symbol on the ass.
“Merde,” Logan breathed once he squeezed his thighs into the shorts. It was—obscene. He wasn’t hung like some of the guys he’d seen but this certainly made it look like he was. His cock pressed against the fabric as insistently as his ass did. He turned around and looked at the yellow symbol there and was glad that the cape would be covering at least some of it.
“Ready?” Finn said when thumping music started up downstairs meaning people were starting to arrive.
Logan looked out the small bathroom window and towards the dark driveway. Cars were lining up. People were getting out in bikinis and corsets, speedos and stockings.
“Uh, yeah,” Logan said. “One second.”
He looked at himself in the mirror and laughed a little before spinning the bat mask once, and placing it over his head. His hair curled out from under it, and the black frame made his eyes look a little startling.
He looked—not bad. If he was looking to pick up tonight—which he hadn’t done yet at Harvard—he probably could. He turned and looked at his abs, defined from the rigorous pre-season training. He looked good. He pushed away the wish that Finn would notice.
“I’m ready,” Logan said and stepped into the weird plush boots that had come with the costume. He pushed his way out of the bathroom. “Sounds like people are here.”
Finn looked up from his phone, legs spread in a way that was doing Logan zero favors. “Yeah, I—”
Finn’s stare was one Logan had felt before. Spotting him in the weight room, checking each other during drills. Two months of that look that Logan refused to think about. But that was a hard thing, when he had nothing to do but look right into it.
Finn stood abruptly, taller, gold paint reflecting into his eyes and making them light like syrup.
“What’s your,” Finn swallowed. “Tattoo. Necklace. I’ve never asked.”
“Oh,” Logan looked down at his hip. “It’s a fleur-de-lis. Sort of a family thing. Me and my sisters have them in different places.”
“How many sisters do you have?”
“Three. They’re older than I am.”
“Fleur-de-lis,” Finn repeated softly, eyes on the tattoo. He swallowed again and then looked away. “Sick. Should we go?”
“Yeah,” Logan said. “Yeah, I need a drink if I gotta wear this thing all night.”
Finn laughed. “Uh-huh. Me, too.”
Logan lasted about an hour before he couldn’t stand his mask anymore. He left it on a table somewhere, pushing his sweaty hair off of his forehead and wishing for a hat. He’d have to settle for something cool to drink instead.
OKN house had the back door open into the chilly yard and porch. The living room had a drinks table set up, one of those plastic fold out ones that they used at rush and club fairs, beside the great oak dining table that no one actually used except, well, Finn. Finn who planned his essays at this table until it was way too late and he snuck up to the room, trying to be quiet for Logan. Logan, who stayed up just to see him go about his routine and fall into bed. Logan, pretending he was a part of that routine.
Logan might have had a Finn problem. A two-month long Finn problem. A Finn-in-glasses problem. A Finn-dressed-as-a-gladiator problem. A Finn-in-his-red-Harvard-jersey problem with his rough skating and sharp shots.
A Finn over in the corner problem, talking to a girl. Problem.
Logan turned to the drink table and desperately looked for the rum.
Logan was allowed to have a Finn problem. Logan just couldn’t have a Finn…anything else. Finn-wet-dreams, in which he woke up with a gasp, sweating against his sheets and only needing to shove his hand into his pajama pants where he was red and swollen in his own hand, barely touching himself before he was shooting into his fist, eyes resolutely away from the bed across from him. Finn-bringing-him-breakfast, not that he could make more than burnt toast, before he drove them to the rink. Finn-laughing-with-him, like a best friend that Logan had never actually had. There were teammates, and then there were friends.
Finn was a friend. Logan could have a Finn problem, a Finn secret, and a friend.
He just couldn’t have Finn.
The rum was no where to be seen. A shoulder bumped his.
“Hey, rookie,” Finn smiled. “What you looking for?”
Finn’s crown was lopsided, like some sort of halo in an old painting. Like someone had been messing with it. Logan looked for the girl, but she was gone.
“Rum,” Logan said.
Finn did a quick survey of the table and found the bottle easily, unstoppering it and reaching over to pour a healthy amount into Logan’s waiting cup.
“Coke, right?”
Logan nodded.
A Finn-knowing-his-drink-problem.
Finn made himself one, too, and held his cup out for a cheers with a smile. Logan smiled back, clicking their plastic cups together.
“Lost your mask somewhere, Batman. Now the whole world knows your secret.”
Logan laughed tightly and raised his cup to his mouth. “I can’t have that.”
Finn tilted his head, chewing a little on the rim of his cup before taking a drink. He cleared his throat. “You been to the roof yet?”
“Non,” Logan shook his head.
“Wanna? It’s a kinda cool view of campus.”
Logan tried to smile over the hammering in his blood. “That girl didn’t wanna join you?”
Finn rolled his eyes. “Come on.” He pushed off the table and was disappearing into the crowd quickly. Logan squeezed through bodies to follow.
~
“I found the picture,” Finn shouted. “Nut—fuck, is he still at the store?”
“Oui,” Logan said, filling up a glass of water from the sink. “Did you really find it? Let me see.”
Logan padded over to where Finn was sprawled on the couch and set his glass down before crouching near Finn’s head to see his phone.
“Oh God,” Logan laughed, ducking against Finn’s shoulder.
“Are you kidding? Lo, you look incredible. Fuck me, look at your legs. And you’re bigger now, like Jesus Christ… Ugh.”
Finn swiped his thumb lightly over where Logan’s tattoo was shown on his hip, just above the ridiculous yellow belt.
“This thing used to drive me crazy,” he said softly. “I mean, it still does, but…fuck.”
Finn used to have fantasies, while wishing for Logan, all of which had been very carefully kept faceless. Until this tattoo would make an appearance and ruin it all—and make him come immediately. It was ingrained in his subconscious as a Logan thing, one moment he would be touching himself in the shower, letting his mind wander quietly towards a hard chest against his, a large hand around his dick instead of his own. Faceless. He’d take the boy and press him against the wall of the shower maybe, do whatever he wanted him to do, kiss his neck, rut their cocks together, maybe he would moan Finn’s name—
Logan’s voice. The hip he had his fingers wrapped around was darkly inked, and tanned.
“Mon rouge,” Logan’s voice—really his voice—came through. Finn looked up at the touch of fingers through his hair. “Where did you go?”
Finn looked at Logan and took a slow breath. He was so familiar. He had been right there for so long, but it was only now that he was close.
“That was…” Finn swallowed. “Kind of a hard night.”
Logan’s brows drew together, and he nodded minutely after a moment. “We’ve had a few hard nights, non?”
Finn looked back at his phone, and then Logan was taking it out of his hand, clicking it off, and setting it on the coffee table. Finn sat up a little as Logan climbed into his lap, knees pressed to his hips. Finn ran his hands over his shoulders, then up beneath his sweatshirt to his broad back. He was bigger now. Stronger.
Logan pressed his fingers through Finn’s hair again and then a kiss to his jaw, one side, and then the other, his cheeks, and then his mouth.
“They lead us here,” Logan said softly. “The hard nights.”
Finn’s throat felt tight. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Fuck. I know. I know they did.”
“Let me show you it’s easier now,” Logan said. “D’accord? Harzy, let me.”
“Lo,” Finn rasped out. He ran his thumb over where he knew the tattoo was, had memorized it quickly, would kiss it endlessly.
“You work hard for everyone,” Logan said the words into another kiss. “You worked hard trying to make me not be afraid, even when I was horrible and terrified.” He kissed down Finn’s throat and Finn’s mouth dropped open. “Even when you were terrified, even when I hurt you. Let me. Finn…”
Finn let out a breath, eyes opening to the ceiling, then to Logan’s when he brought their mouths back together.
"Let me.”
“I took you to the roof,” Finn gasped as Logan pressed against him, warm and real. “I don’t know what I was expecting, I…fuck, we barely knew each other.”
“Do you have any idea how much I wanted you,” Logan said. “Lean up for a sec.”
Finn let Logan pull his t-shirt off of him, let him press wet kisses to his neck and shoulders. It felt good, but part of him itched to flip them, to make Logan feel good. Kiss down his chest, kiss that tattoo.
“Relax,” Logan laughed softly, easing Finn back against the cushions. “You have to let me love you. I need it, Finn. I need to.”
Finn’s cock began to fatten up at that. He let his head fall back. “Lo…”
Logan reached behind him to yank his sweatshirt off and—and there he was. Real.
Finn pressed his palms against his chest, his stomach, feeling the hard curves of his muscles. Logan pressed his hands over Finn’s, bringing them to touch his neck, his pecs. “Let me take care of you for once. Rest and let me.”
Logan leaned down for another, soft kiss and then was swinging off of the couch. His cock was a soft outline in his sweatpants. “Allez.”
Logan pulled Finn up and Finn couldn’t help but back him against the nearest wall, just for a moment, thumb back against the fleur-de-lis, lips harsh against his jaw, just the way he knew Logan liked.
Logan let out a laugh that cut off in a moan. “Non, non—”
Finn pulled back and Logan’s smile made him smile. Logan was flushed and his neck was red from Finn’s mouth. Finn sucked a bruise on top of the blush on the side of his throat, and Logan’s short nails pressed into Finn’s back. Finn reached down and cupped Logan’s cock within his sweatpants, feeling the heat of it through the fabric.
“Non, non, non, allez,” Logan was still half laughing, walking Finn backwards towards his bedroom. “Je prends soin de toi. I’m taking care of you.”
“But I like making you come,” Finn grinned, only just managing to give Logan’s ass a squeeze before Logan pushed him back onto the bed. He bounced a little, pushing himself against the pillows before tapping his thighs. “C’mere, baby.”
Logan shucked his sweatpants off, followed by his socks, and then it was just him, bare and standing there in front of Finn. Finn swore softly and reached down to palm himself.
“Non,” Logan shook his head and knelt on the bed, cock standing out and wet. The sight only made Finn give himself another squeeze. Logan was straddling his hips then, snatching his hands and moving them to his waist. Finn wrapped his arms all the way around Logan, bringing their bare chests together.
He kissed him hard. “Gonna take my pants off, too? Can’t do much like this.”
Logan scoffed and hit the side of Finn’s head lightly, making Finn laugh. But he obliged, coaxing Finn to lift his hips so he could pull his sweatpants away. He leant to kiss the newly exposed skin, mouth soft against Finn’s hips and stomach, hand wrapping around his cock. Finn let out a slow breath and tangled his fingers in Logan’s hair.
He wasn’t expecting it when Logan sucked the head of his cock into his mouth. Logan hadn’t done that yet. He made Finn sit up, abs tightening.
“Tremz,” he panted out a breath. “Oh fuck.”
Leo had been wanting and loving about going down on Finn. It had practically broken Finn’s brain, seeing him there, blue eyes open with his mouth full of his cock. They’d laughed and kissed sending those videos to Logan. It was unbearably hot, thinking of Logan, seeing them, wanting them.
This was entirely different. It was different with both of them. With everything.
Leo and Finn liked to read together, swapping favorite passages. Logan didn’t read much, but he liked to be read to. Finn had always known that, had done it a million times back at Harvard. But now he knew that Logan liked to lay on Finn’s chest while he read, aloud or to himself, and fall straight asleep. He’d always fallen asleep to Finn’s voice. But now he was a weight on top of Finn, breathing softly against his neck and Finn just…
Logan’s mouth was soft, too, tongue pressing against the head of his cock.
Finn loved him.
“Lo, Lo, Lo…” Finn panted. “Fuck, baby.”
Logan just hummed and sucked down further for a moment before popping off and smiling a sweet smile. “Did it with Leo.”
Finn huffed out a laugh, throbbing at the image. “I should be no fucking problem, then.”
Logan laughed, too. “I hope he comes home soon.”
“Me, too,” Finn said. He wanted him with them.
“I guess I know a way to pass the time until he comes back.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” Logan smiled and rolled onto his back, producing lube from Finn didn’t know where. He spread his thighs. “Love it when Knutty does this, the fucking splits.”
Finn leaned forward, running his hands down Logan’s smooth skin. “Yeah. I didn’t even think about how goalies do that until him.”
Finn watched Logan’s face as he slipped two fingers into himself.
“Baby,” Finn said softly. “Let me.”
“Non, you watch.”
Finn sat up further, hand going to his cock—
“Don’t,” Logan panted, head against the bedspread as he worked himself. “Watch.”
Finn sighed and took Logan’s thighs back in his hands and kissed the inside of his knee. There was a little scar there from a night that happened a long time ago. Finn remembered.
Logan laughed breathlessly. “You can’t help yourself.”
“I love you so much.”
Logan’s breathing hitched, green eyes hazy. “Finn…”
Finn kissed it again, and then the other one, and then his thighs. He sucked kisses into the skin, bringing purple to the surface. Logan was marked by the time he sat up.
He was quiet as he pressed Finn back against the pillows. He wet his lips.
“Lo, what—”
“Why do you have your socks on, you weirdo,” Logan said as he swung a leg over Finn’s thighs. Finn’s cock nudged his entrance, and Logan gasped, cutting himself off.
He leaned down and captured Finn’s mouth in a needy kiss and reached behind himself to line Finn up. It was only then that Finn realized—Logan was going to—
Logan’s thighs were firm beneath Finn’s hands as he sunk down on him. Finn’s mouth dropped open at the feeling, of Logan in complete control. It wasn’t like fucking him at all, it was Logan, above him, head tilted back with the feeling of Finn filling him up.
“Finn,” Logan’s voice was more whine than anything else. “Finn, Finn, Finn—“
And he was seated, their hips together, Logan’s cock drooling between them.
“Holy shit,” Finn could barely breathe in. “Holy fucking shit, Lo.”
Logan got his knees under him and pushed himself up before sinking down again. Finn clutched Logan’s hips as all the breath seemed to punch out of Logan’s lungs. He did it again, and again, landing hard with each thrust, completely gone with fucking himself on Finn’s cock. Finn was mesmerized with the wide expanse of tan skin he had to kiss, Logan’s collarbones and shoulders, tongue running over his nipples as Logan’s thighs worked around him.
Logan shifted his hips and pitched forward into Finn’s chest with a curse, burrowing his face in Finn’s neck as he rolled his hips forward in small, sharp motions, hitting that spot inside him again and again.
“There you go, baby,” Finn said, wrapping his arms under Logan’s and around his broad shoulders. He pushed up in time with Logan, making Logan practically shout. “Be as loud as you want, there you go.”
“Finn,” Logan just kept saying, slipping a few times and saying Leo’s name instead. It made Finn all the hotter to think that Logan was imagining Leo there with them, sitting beside them on the bed, maybe working Logan’s cock into his mouth.
Logan’s breathing hitched up and he tightened his arms around Finn’s neck, fingers gripping his hair to pull Finn back for a sloppy kiss as he started to raise his hips again, skin slapping down against Finn’s. He worked until Finn was sure his thighs had to be burning, no matter how toned they were. Finn was going to lose his fucking mind.
“What,” a voice came from the doorway.
Finn looked up to the side to see Leo standing there, keys in his hand.
“Leo,” Logan gasped, and reached a hand out while rocking himself down on Finn’s dick.
Leo walked forward slowly towards the bed and took Logan’s hand like he was in a daze, staring at their naked bodies, slick with sweat by now. Logan yanked him forward and started undoing his belt.
“Hi, Peanut,” Finn panted, head falling back again as Logan rocked against him harder. “Store was—good?”
“I…” Leo was staring at where Logan was wrapping an arm around his waist now, leaning forward to press sloppy kisses over where Leo’s cock was quickly filling in his underwear.
“Knutty,” Logan said, before getting his fingers under the band of Leo’s boxers and pulling down so that Leo’s cock fell out. Leo laced his fingers into Logan’s hair, a laugh startling out of him.
“Logan, oh my god, I’m still holding my keys and wallet. I have my shoes on.”
“Allez.”
Leo just shook his head, raking his fingers through Logan’s sweaty hair. He dropped his things onto the night stand and then tugged his t-shirt off in one go, pushing off his shoes next. Logan let him undress, turning back to Finn and pressing his hands to Finn’s shoulders.
“Don’t touch him,” Leo said as he kicked his boxers aside. He fell down on the bed beside Finn and wrapped a large palm around himself, stroking his shaft. “Come on Finn’s cock, Tremz.”
“Non. Finn.”
Finn watched Logan and Leo share a look that he didn’t quite understand.
“I found the Batman picture,” Finn offered as a hopeful way to get into whatever silent communication Leo and Logan were having. “Sort of—” Finn hissed as Logan tightened around him. “Stirred up some memories if you couldn’t tell, fuck.”
Leo raised an eyebrow, shifting to sit on his heels. “Oh yeah?” He ran a hand down Logan’s back and Logan slowed until he was rocking gently, leaning a little into Leo. Leo looked at Finn. “How’d he look, Harzy?”
“He looked—” Finn began, and then cut off. The sudden well of emotion that had cut through him earlier seized around his heart again. He looked at Leo, all kind eyes, running his hand through Finn’s hair. And Logan, connected to Finn in every possible way right then. Finn opened and closed his mouth, swallowed over a dry throat, and looked at Logan. “He looked…”
~
The October air was a relief on Finn’s face when he pushed open the old window to the roof of OKN house. He turned back to look at Logan. They had thrown sweatpants and sweatshirts on, Finn had swiped a bottle of rum from the kitchen. The only real remnants of their outfits was Logan’s mussed hair and the gold on Finn’s cheeks.
Finn still felt like he was wearing a costume. 
“This is semi-secret,” Finn said as he climbed out onto the tiles, vans catching on the rough material. “And by that I mean I really think no one likes it out here but me.”
He heard Logan laugh from behind him and smiled, pleased.
Fuck.
“You, the roof, and the dining room table,” Logan said.
The rum sloshed gently as Finn settled himself in the curve of the tiles, putting his hood up for some warmth and cushion. Logan did the same, and they settled shoulder to shoulder.
“Might have to steel your spot,” Logan said. “You can keep the table, though.”
“We already share a room and a starting line,” Finn handed him the bottle. “Wouldn’t be so bad.”
Logan’s smile was bright in the moonlight. “Well, good.”
They were quiet for a few moments, passing the rum back and forth to keep warm.
“Do you think you’re gonna make it? To play, I mean.” Logan asked him suddenly.
Finn knew Logan didn’t know just how loaded of a question he was asking. Was Finn going to make it? Hopefully. Was Finn going to survive it? If there was another teammate who became what Logan was quickly becoming, if Finn slipped up…
Hopefully.
He couldn’t read Logan. He couldn’t risk misreading Logan. He shouldn’t even try.
“Yeah,” Finn nodded. “I do, actually. I…you know, there’s all those statistics and shit but I also…feel it? If that doesn’t sound completely stupid? You?”
“I…” Logan hesitated. “I’m not sure.”
“Come on, have you seen you play?”
One corner of Logan’s mouth raised, but he looked different beneath the moon. He was looking intently at Finn, bottle clutched to his chest.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I feel…”
Finn waited for him to continue, but when Logan merely shrugged, he pressed on.
“Hey, I’d take you. Any day.”
It didn’t have the intended effect. The look that crossed Logan’s face looked almost—pained.
“I mean,” Finn tried to decide how to backtrack. “Maybe one day, eh? Anything could happen.”
Logan turned to look out over campus. He nodded mutely and took another drink. Finn felt concern draw around his heart.
“Lo, are you okay?”
Logan’s eyes snapped back to him. “Quoi?”
“What? Oh. Oh. Oh, no, I…” Finn laughed, a little awkwardly. “I didn’t really mean to…that’s been, like—it’s just been bouncing around my head for a while and I guess it slipped out.”
“That’s okay,” Logan said slowly. “I’m okay.”
“It’s okay if you aren’t. I mean… freshman year, Harvard hockey…it’s a lot of pressure. Believe me, I know.”
Another surprising thing. Logan closed his eyes and shook his head. “Non.”
Finn blinked. “What do you mean?”
Logan shook his head. “Nothing, I just…I’m probably a little drunk, I don’t even know.”
Finn let Logan hand the bottle of rum back to him, clutching it to his chest just to hold onto something. He didn’t know what to make of Logan’s no. No Finn didn’t know what it was like? That wasn’t true. If anything, Logan didn’t know what he was going through. Logan didn’t think about kissing Finn.
Logan stole the bottle back. “If you’re not gonna drink.”
He had a smile on his face again, one of his small secret ones. Finn, despite the uncertainty, smiled back. He couldn’t help it around Logan. Logan, who he now knew was the youngest with three sisters. Logan, who drank rum and coke. Logan, who hated doing his homework, but liked listening to Finn do his. Logan, who fought boys twice his size.
Before Finn could say anything, a rumble of thunder sounded off in the distance. It made them both look up and across campus.
“Halloween storm,” Finn said. “I guess that’s fitting.”
“My weather app said something about it,” Logan said after a moment.
Finn smiled. Logan, who checked a weather app.
Logan saw his smile and gave him a small shove. “Let’s go before it starts to rain and—and lightning and shit.”
“Don’t like storms?”
Logan was already pulling his hood more firmly on his head and maneuvering himself into a crouch. “Not really.”
“Well,” Finn started following him back to the window. “I don’t know about Canada, but we get some pretty crazy ones out here.”
Logan huffed, pushing the window up. “Well, super.”
Finn frowned. “Do you really not like—”
“Merde,” Logan hissed and stumbled the rest of the way through the frame. “Fuck.”
Finn pulled himself through a second later, eyes falling to the rip in Logan’s sweatpants by his knee, the red bleeding into the thick material.
“Shit, Tremz,” Finn said. “Is it bad?”
“It’s fine,” Logan said, looking at it carefully. “I’m fine.”
“Let me see, sit down.”
“I’m—”
“Let me see, speaking as your alternate captain now.”
Logan narrowed his eyes at him pulling that card, but sat on a ratty window seat. Finn grinned at him and crouched between his legs. He steadied himself on Logan’s knee, and then pushed Logan’s sweatpants up carefully, revealing his leg—a leg that Finn had been trying very hard not to stare at in skin-tight Batman underwear all evening. His skin was warm.
Finn would have liked a longer excuse to touch Logan, but the cut was small if not a little deep—thankfully not too bad. It was already beginning to stop bleeding.
“You should be good. Wasn’t anything rusty, just the wood edge. There’s some stuff in our bathroom from when I cut my cheek open last year.”
“Okay,” Logan said quietly. It was only then that Finn realized how still he was holding himself in Finn’s hands. It made Finn back up immediately, neck going hot. Who knew what Logan thought. Finn was so careful. So careful.
“Okay,” Finn said, then cleared his throat. “Okay, cool.” He looked around and then picked up the rum bottle from the floor. “Yeah.”
Logan pushed his sweatpants back into place and stood. “I’ll go check it out. Thanks, Harzy. See you in the room.”
“Yeah,” Finn managed faintly. He watched Logan send him a raw looking smile before jogging down the narrow staircase with a tight heart.
~
“Always taking care of me,” Logan was kissing his neck. “Remember the storm that night?”
Finn found Leo’s eyes before Leo was kissing his chest, teeth scraping over his nipple. Logan was grinding down on him in slow circles, making Finn choke out a moan. Their mouths on him ripped him right out of the memory.
Sometimes happiness made sadness’s edge sharper.
Finn blinked heat away from his eyes, but then Leo was there again, cock against his thigh, mouth brushing his own. Leo. Finn held one hand against Logan’s hip, the fleur-de-lis, and the other circled Leo’s back, fingers tangling in his hair to pull him in for a kiss. He loved kissing Leo.
“You deserve it, too, remember? Like we said.” Leo said.
Logan mouth was softer now, against his jaw. “Maybe it’s time we show you.”
Finn could only sit there and take it, the two of them, warming him through and through.
Leo leaned into Finn’s touch. “Like you told me.”
~
Finn woke up with Leo pressed along his front for the first time the morning before they left for Florida. It was to a six AM alarm, Finn was exhausted, but it was one of the best mornings. Finding out Logan was coming to Gryffindor. Waking up wrapped around Leo. Tied for best mornings. After a few kisses, they had to get up, even if it felt like they were a world away from anything normal. Finn actually smiled to himself in the shower the entire time. He was giddy as hell, and Leo was in the kitchen making coffee and eggs and he could kiss Leo while he did that now. He could kiss Leo while he was reading on the couch, he could kiss Leo goodnight and crawl into bed next to him. And and and.
Leo looked up when Finn entered the kitchen, hunched over his coffee cup with two steaming plates in front of him. “Hi.”
Finn just walked forward and turned Leo away from the counter and towards him. “Leo.”
Leo took a lock of his hair, the red darkened from the shower, and curled it around his finger. “You look a little too serious for my liking.”
“You’re okay with all of this, right?” Finn said, and then the words rushed out. “You’re okay with me, and with Logan—hopefully—and you feel good and not pressured, and I just want to make sure because, Leo, I’m not that much older than you but I am older than you. And I need you to know that I want this with everything I fucking have but not if you’re in any way not happy, or, like, nervous, or…I just want,” Finn felt Leo press his hand to his cheek. “I just want to make sure. And I’m gonna keep making sure.”
“Harz…” Leo’s smile was small, almost disbelieving. “I’m so happy. I’m so happy.”
“Well…good,” Finn let out a breathless laugh, relieved. “Because you deserve to be.” Finn pressed his hands to either side of Leo’s face and kissed him once, twice, and then Leo held him there with a hand on the back of his head, licking into his mouth and making Finn sway into the cradle of his thighs. “I really, really like you, Peanut.”
“I like you, too. Even though you’re going to make us late.”
Finn just smiled into their next kiss. “I’ll get the dishes, okay? You go take a shower.”
~
Logan was already under his covers by the time Finn came into the room. The halloween storm was getting sharper. It was raining now, lightning flashing against the sky. Logan had his headphones in, and his eyes were dark as they followed Finn around the room as he undressed. Finn could hear his music from all the way in the bathroom.
Finn found the Batman mask by the sink and laughed, heart pulling when he thought about Logan’s green eyes in it, staring a little self consciously out at him earlier that night. He brushed his teeth and then put it on.
Logan raised an eyebrow when Finn came out, but he laughed and pushed his headphones away from one ear, making his hair stick up.
“Forgot your secret identity,” Finn grinned.
“Too late now.”
Finn bit his lip as he crossed the room to his own bed, putting the mask down. Logan was certainly his secret. Logan had grown quickly into Finn’s mind, so fast that Finn hadn’t really realized it. One morning, he just woke up thinking about kissing Logan square on the mouth.
Logan took a shaky breath from the other side of the room and set his headphones on his nightstand with a glance outside. Lightning cracked across the sky, lighting up the room. Logan’s fists squeezed around his blanket.
Finn slumped down against his pillows with a sigh, taking the book he was reading from his bedside. He could hear people leaving downstairs, screaming and laughing in the wind and rain.
“I don’t like storms,” Logan said quietly. He wasn’t looking at Finn, and he was messing with his fingers agitatedly, covers pulled high on his chest. “I don’t really know why, I just…I don’t like them.”
“I don’t like seaweed,” Finn shrugged, but warmed when Logan actually laughed. “I don’t know, man, it’s just slimy. Thunder’s loud as fuck, I mean, it doesn’t not make sense to not like it.” He took a breath. “You want the light on? It won’t bother me at all.”
Logan looked at him for a long moment, before nodding. “Oui. Thanks, Harzy.”
~
“Harzy,” Logan said against his mouth, and Finn felt his back arch as Logan drew them closer together.
Finn couldn’t get any words out, though, not with Logan hot around him, with Leo sucking intently at his neck, rutting against his thigh. He let out a harsh breath and tightened his fingers in Leo’s hair. They were both hard and dripping onto his chest and stomach and Finn wanted to do something for them. He was aching inside Logan, breathless from his own memories.
“Please,” he said, and he wasn’t even sure what he was asking. He tried to sit up, to reach for them. He wanted to surround them, to pull them against him harder.
Leo shushed him gently, pulling him into a kiss and easing him back against the pillows.
“You were gonna go all the way and get me the stars,” Leo whispered, a light laugh following. “Fuck, Finn…”
“I just—” Finn flexed his hips up into Logan and Logan’s brows scrunched together, hands keeping him upright against Finn’s chest.
“I’m gonna come,” Logan panted, his hips fucking down on Finn. “Fuck, I can’t—”
Logan’s hips stilled and he gasped, cock still red and hard. He fucked once, twice, as if he couldn’t help it, but Finn groaned in protest as Logan gingerly pulled off. Finn watched his own cock bobbing an angry red against his stomach, shiny with come and lube. Logan collapsed into Finn’s side, sweaty and running his hand down Finn’s chest to his balls, cupping them gently.
“Always taking care of us,” Logan breathed. “Fuck, Harz, I love you, but you have to let us take care of you.”
They’d only fucked a handful of times—and Finn was looking forward to many, many more handfuls—but he guessed it was true.
“I like it,” He said. And that was true too. He loved it. His breathing hitched as Leo licked a stripe from Logan’s fingers to the tip of Finn’s cock. “Fuck, Leo.”
Leo just smiled, cheeks a deep red and swung a leg over Finn’s hips. Finn’s hand shot out to grip Leo’s thighs.
“Baby, did you even—”
Leo nodded. “You were a little preoccupied.”
“I could of done it.”
Logan laughed, pressing a kiss to Finn’s cheek. “That’s not the point of right now.”
Leo’s cock hung heavily, balls swollen and tip wet. Finn itched to touch him, but instead Leo cupped his cock against his abs, giving Finn a perfect view of him sinking down over Finn’s.
“We’re all here together,” Logan said softly, accent thick as Finn’s eyes closed at the feeling of Logan’s hand and Leo’s body. “We’re all here for each other, mon rouge. Let us.”
Leo’s head was tilted back, hips rocking in slow circles. Finn cursed, gripping Leo’s pale thighs, longer and leaner than Logan’s.
“Peanut,” Finn gasped. “Jesus, did you two practice this on each other, too?”
Leo’s smile was hazy and blissful. “Maybe.”
Finn groaned, head dropping back into the pillows. Finn loved the two of them together. His two.
Leo’s breathing turned heavy and then he pressed up and sunk down again, punching a sound out of himself. “Fuck.”
“There you go, pinotte,” Logan said from beside Finn. His palm was warm around Finn’s balls still, the sensation making Finn feel like he was about to be right on the edge. Leo was still holding his own cock, but not stroking it, just sinking down around Finn again and again. His blond hair darkened against his forehead.
“I’m close,” Finn said. “Jesus, fuck, I’m so close.”
The urgency had come out of nowhere, but he ached with it. Logan’s hand squeezed again around his balls, and then Leo was pulling off, too. Finn’s abs jumped and the loss. He fisted the sheets.
“Boys, this is not what I call appreciation,” Finn’s knees drew up on their own, trying to seek out any type of friction. His cock beaded precome across his stomach.
“Non?” Logan said, and then he was gone from against Finn’s side. Finn felt aflame, like he could feel every touch, and every absence.
Leo smoothed a hand down his stomach, through the mess, and then his mouth was back on Finn’s cock—and so was Logan’s.
“Huh—“ Finn wasn’t sure if he was breathing properly as his hands shot out to tangle in their hair, brunette and blonde. They lapped at him, mouths meeting occasionally around his wet, swollen tip. They’re—
“Fucking gorgeous, what the hell,” Finn managed, and he did sit up this time, legs splayed, pressing against their chests, palms rubbing over their spines. He had to close his eyes for a minute when Logan’s mouth found his balls and sucked at them, at the sensitive skin at his root, all while Leo’s mouth was sinking down, down. Finn felt it like a bruise, like a hurt that was so good it shattered, he shattered, looking at them.
Finn tried to keep his hips still as he came in Leo’s mouth with a low sound, bowed with his forehead pressed to Leo’s shoulder.
They kissed him, and then kissed each other, and then Logan was crawling across Finn and into Leo’s waiting arms. They smiled at each other, and Finn thought that was better than any of the sex. Leo’s hands were shaky as he pushed into Logan. Logan sunk down on Leo’s cock twice before he was shouting, come hot and white against Leo’s skin. Finn pressed himself all along Logan’s back and held him as Leo fucked into him a handful of times and came, too, face buried in Finn’s neck.
They were breathing hard, like a fine current surrounded the three of them, placing their breaths in sync. Finn was—
~
Leo closed the door to the balcony of Finn’s Florida hotel room and paced back to the bed, sitting beside him. Finn rubbed a hand up and down his back, thumb bumping along his spine.
“He’s hurting,” Leo said, eyes down. “He’s hurting, and he won’t let us tell him that we…”
“Lo’s always needed to do things in his own time. Always. We’ll get to him, we’ll talk to him.”
“I…” Leo cut off with a sigh and rubbed his hands over his face. Then he turned into Finn and Finn wrapped him up close.
“We’ll sort it out. Believe me, I’ve been waiting a long fucking time for this,” Finn pressed a kiss to Leo’s cheek. “For you, too, even if I didn’t know it.”
Leo smiled, even if his eyes were still a little sad.
“You’re right,” he said, and then paused. “Maybe we’ll just kidnap him at the buffet.”
Finn snorted. “Maybe.”
Leo took Finn’s hand in his lap and kissed it. “I think we’ll be together soon.”
~
It was too good. It was all his. Finn ran one hand over Logan’s abs slowly before pressing his palm over his pounding heart. With his other on Leo’s back, he could feel Leo’s heartbeat, too. They were louder to him than his own. Logan’s head was tilted back against his shoulder, his eyes closed, and Finn leant down and kissed his cheek.
“Knutty, c’mere,” he breathed. “C’mere.”
Leo’s cheeks were red like his mouth and he knelt his way over to Finn’s chest, leaning his chin up for a kiss. He pressed his hand to Finn’s cheek, swiping his thumb over his jaw.
“Stubble,” he mumbled with a smile, and dragged his lips over it happily.
Finn laughed softly. “I’ve been playing good, I gotta keep it.”
Logan looked up and all but smacked Finn in the face to feel. “Fucking loved that in college.”
“He had it the first day I met him,” Leo smiled, nuzzling against Finn’s slightly rough jaw and the dark red hair there.
~
“The fuck’s on your face, O’Hara,” was Logan’s greeting during preseason camp Finn’s senior year.
They’d seen each other a few weeks prior when Logan was still in the city staying with Finn’s family. He’d spent the last weeks of July with his own family, and how here they were, back at Harvard, sticky with sweat from ground training. Seeing Logan again after weeks, even just after a night’s sleep, was always a bit of a punch to the gut for Finn. He was tanned from the summer sun, sinfully so, and Finn wanted to—
“What?” Finn laughed, lifting his shirt up to wipe his face—including the week old beard he’d been experimenting with. “I don’t know about it, what do you think?”
He was thankful he was already sweating, because his face heated with the question. He needed to know what Logan thought, always.
Logan, green eyes were made light by his black snapback, walked forward. He took Finn’s chin between his fingers, turning his head this way and that before rubbing his palm over his cheek. Finn swallowed.
“Nice face,” Logan said.
~
Finn laughed. “You made fun of me.”
Leo snorted. “Well, neither of us could very well say fuck, what a hottie.”
“Nut, please go around calling Finn a hottie from now on,” Logan laughed, and then let out a breath. “Fuck, that was so hot.”
“I still haven’t seen the picture,” Leo said, and then, more quietly. “What activated our Finn plan, Tremz?”
Finn blinked. “Finn plan?” Logan looked up at Finn with a smile and Finn raised an eyebrow, tweaking his nipple and making him swear and laugh Finn’s favorite laugh. “What the hell is a Finn plan?”
“Just…” Logan looked over his face, and then to Leo, reaching out and petting a hand through Leo’s hair. “We wanted to show you that we want you just as much. That we want to take care of you as much as you always tell us you want to take care of us.”
Finn looked between them. “You…”
“We were talking about it,” Leo began.
“And making out,” Logan added.
“And making dinner one night,” Leo laughed. “And, I don’t know, we just sort of…when we felt the time was good, decided we’d make sure you knew.”
Logan nodded, hair tickling Finn’s throat. “You looked pretty sad there for a second, mon rouge, looking at that picture.”
“And when you were telling me about your rookie year, remember?” Leo said. “In Florida, after we got together?”
~
“I’m just saying,” Finn shrugged. They were laying down facing each other on Finn’s bed. Timmy was out with Kuny and Nado and, when that happened, he didn’t come back for a good while. Finn didn’t want to do anything too risky, but kissing Leo until he was soft and smiling seemed like a good plan. Logan wasn’t picking up his phone. He wasn’t in his and Leo’s room.
Kissing had soon turned into worrying.
“I’m just saying, I’m really glad you didn’t have to do the rookie season hotel shit. I’m so glad you’re with me. When I did it, it just,” Finn watched where his thumb was stroking over Leo’s knuckles. “I mean, Logan wasn’t really talking to me. I was trying to give him space, but I—missed him. Sorry,” Finn laughed a little, clearing his throat around the hot tears forming there.
“Don’t be,” Leo said. “Harzy, you love him. Of course you missed him.”
“I just waited for him to call forever,” Finn said in a rush. “And I’d wait forever again, you know, but I…I would just stare at my—phone,” Finn’s voice hitched. “And then I finally called him and it was horrible, I could barely talk.”
Leo’s eyes were sad and he pressed closer to Finn.
“I’m just happy you wanted to talk,” Finn whispered into the small space between them. “I’m so fucking glad we talked and now look, I can kiss you, Leo. Even though I’m crying,” Finn smiled a little, and Leo kissed him.
“You’re allowed to cry over him. Fuck, you think I haven’t cried over both of you?”
Finn laughed and rubbed his eyes. “Hope you don’t cry over me anymore.”
Leo grinned, swinging a leg over Finn’s hips. “I think they call you Heartthrob-O’Hara for a reason.”
~
“I remember,” Finn said softly. He couldn’t think about that phone call, though. Not yet. With time. “I didn’t know you remembered, Nut.”
Leo nodded. “I think we all remember.”
Logan let out a shaky breath against Finn’s chest and Finn rested his lips against the crown of Logan’s head. Maybe Logan couldn’t think about it either. Logan, who had tried to be so bright for him, even when he could tell Finn was crying.
Leo smiled. “Got a couple of star crossed lovers on my hands.”
Finn felt Logan’s laugh this time. “Care to join the party?”
“Yes, please.”
Finn groaned at the soft syllables in Leo’s voice, the drawn out ones in Logan’s. “You both get accent-y after sex."
“Tired,” Logan said.
“Fucked,” Leo sighed.
Logan laughed loudly, eyes squeezing shut, and he nudged Leo with his hand before wrapping his fingers around his arm and pulling him close for a kiss.
Finn didn’t think they were star crossed anymore. They had orbited around that somehow and ended up here, pulled by Leo’s gravity, into a tangle of light.
“In the middle,” Leo laughed, and bent briefly to press a lingering kiss to the dark ink on Logan’s hip before returning to his mouth. “Just how you like it.”
Finn smiled. Finn was just where he liked it, too. Feeling the weight of both of them in his arms, not moving, not going anywhere, their voices soft in a room the was safe and warm.
“What do you like, Nut?” Finn said. “Tell me.”
Leo bit his lip. “Looking at you two. I never even thought I’d have one person. And if I did, I thought they’d get tired of secrets. Scared away.” Leo let Finn pull him closer. “Secrets made you two stronger. And you’re not gonna leave me because you have to keep me a secret, either.” Leo’s gaze flickered. “I like looking at you two and knowing that.”
~
“Knutty, Knutty, Knutter, Nut, Nutter butter baby,” Finn sing-songed as he shuffled into the kitchen, voice sleepy and hair a mess. He felt awake after last night, his boys, on him, with him, working their way so deep into his bones and heart that he bled and bruised and breathed them. It felt good.
He rested his cheek against Leo’s back as he wrapped his arms around him from behind while eggs sizzled on the stove.
“Morning, Harz,” Leo said.
“Sup,” Finn sighed.
Leo snorted, then took a strip of bacon he had cooling from a plate. “Here.”
Finn made an appreciative sound and took it between his teeth.
“Do you wish we could cook?” Finn asked as he chewed.
Leo wavered his head back and forth. “No,” he decided. “I think you can do more than you think you can, but I like cooking for you. You guys clean up. It’s like being on a cooking show. All the fun, none of the work.”
Finn laughed, pressing a kiss to Leo’s shoulder through his t-shirt. “Cute.”
“Is he awake yet?”
“No,” Finn said, pulling three coffee mugs down from the cupboard. Logan, easily awoken, hard to wake up. “Somehow we managed to sneak out. Lightest sleeper ever. You know, I used to have to pee on roadies or when we were roommates—I mean I still pee, but you get the idea. And he would jump up like there was a fucking burglar.”
Leo dumped the eggs onto the waiting plates and flicked the hot pan off. He came up behind Finn this time, hands on his hips while the smell of brewing coffee rose in the air. Finn leaned back against his chest.
“I thought about doing this so many times while you made breakfast,” Finn said softly.
Leo glanced at his face, nose brushing his cheek. His eyes were closed, eyelashes turned shadows in the warm sunlight pooling on the floor. He was completely relaxed into Leo, and Leo held him there. This was what Leo liked. Finn, knowing that they weren’t going anywhere, no matter what he did.
“Me too,” Leo said, kissing Finn’s jaw. Finn smiled, and turned his head into the kiss.
“Leo,” Finn said.
“Yeah?”
“I think we should ask him.”
Leo only had the chance to smile and kiss Finn again, deeper, before there was a weight falling against both of them, Logan’s dark head of hair burrowing against Leo’s chest. Leo laughed and stumbled, just a little.
“You gain ten pounds when you’re sleepy, I swear.”
Logan just hummed. Leo and Finn looked at each other over his head, and then Finn sandwiched Logan in from the other side.
“Hey, Lo,” he whispered.
“Quoi,” Logan mumbled sleepily, his eyes closed and cheek against Leo’s t-shirt.
Finn smiled at Leo, and Leo ducked down.
“Will you move in with us?” Leo whispered.
Logan looked up so fast he butted Finn in the nose with the back of his head.
“Fuck me,” Finn startled back and Logan swore, turning in their arms and pressing his hands to Finn’s rough cheeks.
“Harz,” Logan began, and then Finn realized that both him and Leo were laughing too hard to speak.
“Ouch.”
Logan sagged against him, gasping for breath—
And then Finn realized he was half crying. And nodding. And nodding and nodding.
Finn abandoned his aching nose and looked at Leo, whose expression had softened. Logan’s breathing stuttered and he gasped out a laugh, wiping his face.
“Fuck, I just woke up.”
“Is that a yes?” Finn laughed. “Head butt me then burst into tears, I guess that’s a pretty regular morning for us all.”
Leo kissed Logan’s neck softly. “Say yes.”
“Get out of Dumo’s basement,” Finn said.
Logan punched him in the chest, making him groan, and the pulled him back in, leaning into Leo’s arms.
“Yes,” Logan said. “Yes.”
~
Over coffee, Finn held his phone out to Leo.
“Slutty Batman.”
Leo blinked at the photo. “Holy fuck.”
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jjmaybanksbaby · 3 years
Text
Where It Leads (Rafe Cameron)
Summer II
Part 04: I Should Just Tell You To Leave
series masterlist | previous part
summary: Against your better judgement, you seek out Rafe to talk about the Fourth of July party but things inevitably spiral. 
a/n: I don’t really have anything to add!! Enjoy the angst! :))
word count: 2.2k words
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The warm Outer Banks sun streamed into your room waking you from your sleep like a subtle alarm clock. The sounds of the air conditioning whirling away in the background was the only noise filling the mostly quiet house. You rolled over in your bed and finding a cool spot drifted back to sleep.
This time the loud chimes of the front door bell pulled you out of your slumber. You sat up onto your elbows curiously. No one ever ringed your door bell except for the delivery person and never this early in the day. A pair of footsteps padded across the foyer to the front door and your mom’s familiar voice echoed through the house moments later.
With your door closed, the conversations was muffled and you could only make out pieces of it.
She didn’t just say “Cameron,” did she? You wondered.
You were surely just being paranoid. It had only been two days since everything that had happened on the Fourth and your brain felt scrambled from overthinking just about every detail of that night.
Your curiosity officially got the best of you and you slipped out of your bed, quietly as not to make any of the floorboards creak in the old house. You cracked open your bedroom door just enough to hopefully steal a glance at the front door but your mom's figure was blocking the face of whoever she was talking to.
The voice though. It sounded so familiar, like you should have been able to place it.
You watched from your bedroom as your mom stepped forward and gave the other person a hug, bringing their face into perfect view.
It was Ward Cameron. What was he doing here?
You watched your mom exchange a few more worlds and close the door behind him. You slide your feet into a pair of throughly-worn through slippers and stepped out of your bedroom.
Your mom was still standing at the bottom of the stairs tapping away at her phone. You wanted to ask her about Ward but you couldn't give away that you had been eavesdropping.
"Morning mom," you said, kissing her cheek, your eyes fluttering down to her phone screen. Her text with your dad were pulled up but it didn't look like anything important. "What’s for breakfast?"
"There's some bagels on the counter,” she replied, not looking up from her phone.
"Okay," you paused. "Was someone at the door?" You asked, hoping your mom missed the eagerness of your question.
"Oh, just Mr. Cameron." She said.
"Ward?"
"Mmmhmm."
"What did he want?" You pushed.
"He's helping us with Midsummers,” she replied.
Midsummers? You thoughts. Isn't that usually in June?
"I thought Midsummers already happened this year."
Your mom sighed and you could pick up on her slight annoyance with your questioning.
"It was. He's helping us with next summer. The board sends out invites the August before."
The bulk of your mom's statement went over your head except for two words: next summer. As in you would for sure be back in the Outer Banks next summer.
"Isn't Nonna already a member of the Club?"
“Yes, she is. But Midsummer is put on through the Island Club which an even more exclusive part of the Club. Our family used to be a part of it when I younger. Ward's helping us get back in."
"I thought our family didn't like the Camerons?" The words were out of your mouth before you realized how it might sound.
Your mom finally looked up from her phone at you. "Why would you think that?"
"Oh," you paused, unsure how to proceed exactly. "Nonna said Mr. Cameron broke your heart your senior year of high school," you said hesitantly. "She said you were so upset you didn't talk to her for like two years.”
Your mom scoffed. "Your Nonna is always so dramatic. That's where your older sister gets it from. My mother told me she wouldn't pay for my college if I followed Ward to UNC. I guess she didn't realize I wanted to go to the west coast for college anyway and was going to break up with Ward when he was home over Thanksgiving break. Things with Ward didn't end with any bad blood, contrary to my mother’s belief. She’s never liked the Camerons for some reason but that's just her."
"So then we're going next summer? To Midsummers?"
"That's what I'm trying to make happen." Your mother went back to typing furiously on her phone.
"And the Camerons go ever summer?” You asked. Your mind defied you, conjuring up an image of Rafe waltzing into Midsummers in a perfectly tailored suit with a matching baby blue bow tie that made his eyes pop.
"What's with the sudden interest in a party?" Your mother asked back.
You forced the corners of your mouth up into a casual smile. "No reason. I'm going to eat breakfast." You quickly disappeared down the hallway before you gave yourself away.
☼☼☼
You hummed along softly to the music coming from your phone as you ran a straightening iron through your thick hair. The summer humidity made it a disaster to deal with. You knew two minutes outside would send it right back into looking like an untamed mess but most mornings you still stood in front of the mirror straightening it anyway.
Your phone which was sitting on the counter to your right buzzed with a new notification. You picked it up and unlocked it. There were two unread text sitting in your messages: one from your dad and another from an unknown number. You opened the second one.
Hey y/n! It's Cleo. Have you heard from Rafe recently? He's been acting weird and ghosting on our plans. I realized I had your number so I figured I'd shoot you a text and ask!!
You reread the text from Cleo before switching to your messages with Sarah.
y/n: Do you know where your brother is?
s: he's in his room moping i'm guessing for the same reason i couldn't find you after the fireworks
y/n: Sorry about that. How about I'll buy you ice cream this week and make it up to you?
You paused for a moment before typing out your next message.
y/n: Do you think I could come talk to him?
s: go for it
s: and i like mint chocolate chip with sprinkles :)
☼☼☼
You stood on the Cameron's front porch, not sure if you should knock or just walk inside. You settled on knocking and seconds later the door swung open revealing a younger-looking blonde woman holding a stemless wine glass with thick gold hoods hanging from her ears.
"Hi," you said, feeling like coming here might have been a very bad idea. "Um, is Rafe home?"
She glanced over her shoulder. "Yeah, yeah he is. Who are you again?"
"I'm y/n, one of his friends. Sarah said I could stop by."
She stepped back opening the door wider. "Sure, come in. I'm Rose. Rafe's in his room."
"Thank you," you said, stepping into the house. A sweeping staircase climbed up to the second floor. "Up here?" You asked.
"Mmmhmm." Rose nodded, bringing her wine glass up to her lips.
You walked slowly down the long hallway, most of the doors were closed except for one at the end.
You saw Rafe before he saw you. He was sitting in his unmade bed pushed into the corner of the room, only the light from the video games on the tv illuminating the space. You raise your first and knocked lightly on his doorframe, his attention snapping up to you.
You lingered in his doorway. Crossing into Rafe's room felt like it should mean something, you wanted it to mean something. His eyes were glued to the floor, watching your hesitant movements. You took a small step forward. He went back to the game, unpausing it, his fingers flying across the controller, no longer focused on you.
“Hey, I think we should talk,” you said as you crossed the room until you were just few feet away from him. When he didn’t move his gaze from the tv, you glanced around his room looking nervously, unsure where to rest your own eyes. The room was so distinctively his. Everything fit together in a way that made sense and the years he had spent growing up in it were obvious.
“Does your boyfriend know that you’re here?” He snapped back.
You ignored his comment, pressing on. “Sarah said you were moping.”
“Sarah says a lot of things.”
“Rafe.”
“Y/n.”
“Jesus, why are being such an asshole? Are you even gonna look at me?”
You expected your comment to earn you at least a glance in your direction but his head stayed firmly facing forward.
You stepped in front of the tv, forcing him to meet your stare.
“I’m sorry Rafe. I should have told you about Evan earlier. Or made it clearer.” You stumble on your words. The air in the room was hot. The words in your throat felt sticky like it was taking everything in you to get them out.
Rafe stood up from where he was sitting on his bed. Before you realized what he was doing, he was standing in front of you, his arm slipping behind your waist, pull you in until you had to place a hand on his chest to keep some distance between you. God, you cursed the way your body instinctively arched against his, the two of you fitting together like you were perfectly shaped for each other.
“I’m not an asshole,” he growled, his voice lower than you had ever heard it. “Because an asshole would kiss you right now even thought you’ve made it very clear you’re not available to be kissed.”
He looked down at you, his lips no more than two inches from yours. If you tilted your head up anymore your lips might land on his.
He lowered his head to whisper in your ear.
“And to be very clear, I would fucking love to be kissing you right now,” he paused, not moving his mouth from next to your ear. “Actually, I’d like to do a little more than just kiss you, sweetheart.”
A deep blush spread across your face. You whole body responded to his words.
Rafe took a sudden step back, releasing you from his grip. “So you can either call up your boyfriend and tell him you’re over and kiss me like I can tell you want to. Or don’t and leave.” Rafe crossed his arms in front of his body, his tshirt straining against his biceps muscles. How had you never noticed just how built he was? You tried to shake off the feeling of being pressed against him, held in place by his strong arms.
Your phone felt heavy in back pockets, weighting you down. “Rafe, you know I can’t do that. I can’t just pick you or him.”
“I’m not gonna be some side piece y/n. And I’m sure as hell not gonna share you with some kid who probably doesn’t deserve the time of day from you, much less to be your boyfriend. You have thirty seconds. Make a choice.”
“We’ve been together 6 months...7 next week.” You blabbed, practically pleading with him. You hated to hear the words Rafe was saying because you knew they were every bit true. You couldn’t have both boys. But if you were being honest with yourself: you didn’t want them both.
Rafe Cameron was intoxicating. He made your brain swirl and held your whole damn emotions hostage. You should have known after he’d gotten you into a car crash the first night you’d met that he’d end up tearing you apart in every way. Not to mention your own grandmother had quite clearly warned you to stay away from him. But something about his beautiful face made you cling to him and welcome your downfall.
Your eyes danced from Rafe’s lips up to meet his glare. You could see him counting down the seconds behind his stare.
10...9...8...
It was all moving too fast. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t breathe.
7...6...
But hadn’t you known coming here would lead to this? A part of you did. You knew the second you walked into the big Cameron house with the shiny marble floors you weren’t gonna leave it any bit the same.
5...4...
The voice in your head was screaming at you to walk away. You didn’t hurt people and Rafe was right: staying here would hurt Evan and it would hurt you just as much, maybe more. The voice yelled at you to get out. Run away from trouble back to Evan who wouldn’t ever hurt you. Back to your perfectly nice boyfriend.
3...
But no matter how loud or persistent that voice telling you to leave was, it couldn’t shut up the part of your brain pushing you to take what you really wanted. The boy you really wanted. The boy standing in front of you.
2...
You spun on your heel and kept your eyes down as you across the threshold of Rafe’s room back into the hallway.
1...
Rafe’s door closed behind you with a definitive click. That was it. He’d told you to pick and you had. There was no going back. No do-overs.
You stood frozen in the Cameron’s hallway, blinked away the tears threatening to spill down your face, trying to reassure yourself of your decision.
Your life would be easier without Rafe Cameron crowding your thoughts, you told yourself. Evan was the safe choice, he was good for you.
You let your legs carry you down the grand staircase and out of the front door of the Cameron’s house. There you were, for the second time in a week, fleeing from Rafe Cameron with your heart in the kind of pain that just might actually kill you.
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rideboldlyride · 4 years
Text
ZW 2020; Reunion
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So it begins.... This is a Modern/Gym AU. I swore I would never do a modern AU, but, as Edna Mode would say “and yet, here we are.” My plan for this week is to make these prompts all one story. As this is my first Modern AU of any kind, on top of my first Zutara Week, please feel free to leave all sorts of feedback. I will be adding an AO3 link in an edit in the fresh morning. I’m posting this tonight, because I have way too much crap going on in the morning tomorrow. Anyway. No more intro/distraction from my crapstorm. Here it begins.
[EDIT 1: I forgot to mention-- I aged them up realtime. This means that Zuko;Sokka are 31, Katara;Azula are 29, and Toph;Aang are 27, and all the correlating ages of the other characters accordingly. EDIT 2 will be the AO3 link, I promise.]
[EDIT 2: HERE’S the AO3 - finally. I’ve been super busy all day with a screeching toddler.]
It's the smell, Katara decides. It definitely wasn't the music - she always piped in her own mix of high-tempo, hard hitting music through her headphones. It's not the taste of the crappy tap water from their generic doctor's-office-standard water fountains. It wasn't for the sights of the people who were there.
Well, most of the people that were there. There was one or two…
No, she decided. It was entirely the smell that, no matter where in the world she landed, got her moving. A blend of sweat, rubber, and disinfectant, every gym she had ever walked into had the same smell. This realization settled over her as she entered the old gym. She had recently moved back from one of the old Earth Kingdom settlements at the coast, and was now participating in a research project with Ba Sing Se University, her old alma mater. Fortune had been on her side, however, when her old gym’s membership was reciprocal back again to one in the city. 
It had been three years since she had left Ba Sing Se for Selin Harbor, fresh from the university, a master’s degree in Marine Biology in tow. Now, she had been called back due to a troubling disease emerging in the dark, mysterious waters off the coast of the city. 
She had begun her workout running intervals, hopping from treadmill to resistance training to machines, and back, forcing the stress and worry of her new work out of her mind. Falling into her rhythm, time began to slip away. As was common, during her physical exertions, she felt the outside world fall away, and a single-minded focus overtook her thoughts, caught up only in the heavy beat in her ears.
Somewhere in between a few of her runs, she stepped away from the treadmill, took a pause to swallow down some more water, and turned to the next step in her pattern. She stopped suddenly. In her next station - a gym mat stocked with medicine ball and resistance bands - a fellow gym member was actively using her set up. A moment of frustration passed through her, but she swallowed it down. Instead, she moved away, trying to preoccupy herself with her next exercise, determined to come back after his set. But as she finished up and returned, she found him still in her spot, this time in between sets. Irritation pricked at her lips, but she sucked in a deep breath and plastered her best “people are oblivious” smile across her face. Pulling her headphones down, she rounded him.
“Excuse me,” she knew her voice was sickly sweet, but she didn’t care, “I hate to be that person, but…” 
A glint of gold in his eyes shot towards her motions, in contrast with his light skin and dark hair. It was obvious that he was no stranger to the gym himself, and it took a moment for her to remember what she was going to protest. (About those sights at the gym…? She ascertained that he was one of those exceptions.) Swallowing down the startling nature of his side eye, she pulled her indignation back to the forefront. He still didn't turn to her fully, preferring to shoot her a glare sideways. 
"But," she continued resolutely, "you're kind of interrupting my intervals. I need to use this spot before--"
"I'm not interested."
"...what?" It was only then that she noticed the white at his ears- headphones. Did this prick really think she was hitting on him? Her face turned sour, her voice rising. "Now, you listen here, you--"
He sighed, and pulled out the earbud closest to her. The music was just as loud as hers, she noticed abstractly. 
"Listen, I'm not in--"
"You're in my spot!" She spat out aggressively. 
It was his turn to be confused. "What?"
"My spot. You are literally in my spot. You've interrupted my intervals, but still managed to keep my blood pressure up. Congratulations."
He looks flustered for a minute, and Katara curses the spirits. The red on his cheeks only seemed to make him more striking under the iridescent lighting. She uses that disconcerting feeling to fuel more of her frustration.
"I don't see your name on this particular spot."
A bitter laugh escaped her, and she flipped the edge of the mat up. 
"Ka-ta-ra." She emphasizes the syllables as she points them out, written in her tight hand, on the bottom of the mat he was perched upon. 
For a second time, he flustered. 
"Oh." This time, however, he quickly moved off of it, a hand to the back of his neck. "I'm- I'm sorry. Didn't realize…"
She snorted, still not done with his brand of arrogance.
"You must be pretty narcissistic," she snarls, "to think that any girl who nears you must be ‘interested’." 
"It's not- I'm not-," he stutters for a moment, before regaining his composure. “Anything I say is going to make me sound like more of an asshole, isn’t it?”
A brow raised over a sea-blue eye, and he sighed. 
“Sorry. I didn’t realize you were here. I just figured somebody left the equipment after they were done.”
Her frustration fizzled a little under his apology. 
“Oh. Yeah, I guess I could see how you would think that.” Her eyes scanned the free weight area, strewn with discarded equipment like dirty tissues. 
Sighing, she deflated. Blue eyes looked up at him, finally catching a honest look at the man she was unexpectedly not as frustrated with. His dark hair was cut relatively close, seemingly unaware of any attempt to tame it’s aggressive angles. Amber eyes followed her motions, one of them wrapped in an old, angry scar that ran back into his sideburn, hairline, finishing on the other side of his ear. Dressed for the gym, she was able to appreciate his evident focus on lean versus bulk. And appreciate, she did. She dropped her eyes again, reminding herself of his protest when she first approached him. Jet had been enough of a narcissistic asshole for her lifetime. She didn’t need a new one. 
But he had apologized and did seem properly chastised. Looking around, she noticed that there was no other open spaces for him to work in.
“Listen, I don’t mind you using it. Just- just let me run my sets? Not, like, sit here in between them?”
“Really?” a small smile pulled at one corner of his lips. He seemed genuinely surprised. “Thanks.”
She waved it off, keeping her head down, as she took over the space, and he moved on to another machine.
An hour later, she wrapped up her mat, replaced the equipment, and moved towards the door. He was on the treadmill near the door, and as she passed him, she nodded. A small smile pulled at his lips and he returned the expression. 
Buzzing filled her pocket, and she glanced at her phone. 
Toph.
“Hey, Sugar Queen, we still on for tonight?”
***
He was a bit breathless. It was hard to tell if it was from having been sick for the week prior and thereby out of practice, or if it was the brilliant blue eyes of the woman slipping out the door. She had nodded at him, and a glimmer of hope clung to him. Maybe he hadn’t completely screwed up that interaction.
“Yeah, we are. I’m excited! We going to meet at--?” her voice was clear, since he had kept one earbud out since they had first crossed paths. Incredulousness laced her words. “You’re picking me up? I’m hoping you’re not the one driving…”
Her voice faded away, and he couldn’t help the smile that stayed on his face, even as he replaced the second earbud and continued his workout.
***
“So where is it we’re heading?” Katara glanced at her passenger in the front seat, but the young woman’s eyes were unfocused and hazy as she stared blankly ahead. When she spoke, however, her tone belied her strength. 
“I already told you, Kat-uh.” Her emphasis merely snapped the blue-eyed girl’s dark brows together, but she continued. “It’s an old friend of mine- he’s playing at some small bar. The one we used to go to on Thursdays when we were all in college together.” 
“I’m guessing he’s a new addition to the line up?”
“Nah.” A smirk pulled at her lips. “I just never found a reason to go see him before.”
“Thats… sweet, Toph.”
“I know. So considerate, right?”
A sigh escaped the older woman’s lips. “At least tell me if it’s on the milder scale for your music?”
Toph wasn’t known for having the most laid back choices in music. Her worries were slightly alleviated when the blind girl scoffed loudly.
“No, he’s more your speed. Likes some of the heavier music, though, but only plays the nicer stuff.”
“So, covers?”
Her head cocked to the side. “Maybe one or two. From what I hear, his original music is actually starting to get popular.”
As she pulled into the parking lot, Katara bit back a groan. Had it always been this busy? She found herself asking Toph that. For the asking, all she received was a head shake back. 
“Nah, but we also came on Thursdays. Fridays are a whole other beast. And besides, I told you he’s getting more popular.”
Suddenly regretting her decision to come out that night, Katara turned the car off, but only started to move to get out of it when she spotted Sokka and Suki waving frantically after her. They had arrived earlier, and together. As she reached them, Katara sighed, and Sokka wrapped the arm he didn’t have around his girlfriend, to pull his baby sister closer.
“You’ll have fun, Katuh. I know it’s stupid busy, but it’s going to be fun. Just, ya know, relax. Have a drink. Listen to decent music.”
As the doors slipped open, her eyes suddenly grew wide as she instantly recognized the chords. Katara slipped away from her brother’s arm. The words to the songs were already on her lips, and she was surprised to find that she knew this band. She wasn’t one to obsess over the musicians, but their music was a whole other thing. They were an indie band, unknown, unrecognized, so she had never expected to come across them live. Despite her desire to bob and weave to see and get closer to the stage, it seemed like the crowd pushed in on them more, and she was impeded. A shot of disappointment shot through her as the music died off, and the drummer announced a break. Turning back to her friends, she dejectedly joined them. 
“Oh Katara, don’t get so down.” Toph smirked, propping her dirty sandals up onto the table. “You know that was their first set. Besides, the lead singer is coming this way as we speak.”
Blue eyes rolled hard into her skull, and she let out a scoff. “Toph, you know I don’t care about the musicians. I just love their music.”
“Uh-huh. Well, we’ll test that theory right now. He’s headed this way”
“Your friend?” Sokka asked.
Toph nodded in response.
Katara turned in time to see a dark head dip and weave through the crowd, along with flashes of a dark button up, sleeves rolled up, and fitted jeans. However, when he finally slipped out of the crowd to join them at the high top they had claimed, it took all of her willpower to bite back the laugh that threatened to escape.
“Hey Toph.” His voice had an interesting grate, she had to admit, but she wasn’t sure she was quite over the way they had been introduced before. But if that was anywhere on his mind at the moment, he was good at not showing it. Instead, he followed the line of their friends as Toph introduced them. When it wrapped around to her, the closest to them both, she found herself sitting straight. 
“And this is Ka--”
“We’ve actually already met.”
A cocked head told her of confusion, and his eyes scanned her for a moment. Something like a glimmer of recognition started to blossom in the gold of his eyes. With a motion that was more abrupt, she gathered up her loose curls and pulled them back, as if to put them up into a ponytail. His eyes widened. It was impressive the difference a hairstyle could have on recognition.
“Oh. Yeah. Hey again. It was… Katara, was it?”
“You never did give me your name, you know.”
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