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campingwiththecharmings · 3 months

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Can't Hold Back

AN: Hey y'all! This is kind of an unofficial sequel to Down Time, in the sense that I was thinking of while writing but made no actual references to it lol. ANYWAY. This was written for @triplefrontier-anniversary! Hope y’all enjoy 🥰

(Un-beta’d)

You can’t go on like this, having him but not having him. You want more, you deserve more…

Rated: M+ (this is smut so, i mean, you’ve been warned?) Words: 1,554 Pairing: Santiago “Pope” Garcia x F!Reader Warnings: Very light on the plot here lol, friends (who are secretly in love with each other) with benefits, p in v, a smidge of angst then cliche fluffy fluff (please let me know if i missed anything). AO3

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Santiago fucks into you, his thrusts slow and deep, his body draped over yours as you cling to him, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you try to stifle your moans. He buries his face in your neck, muffling his groan as he loses himself in your warmth. He mouths at you, his tongue dragging over your sweat-slicked skin before coming to rest just below your ear.

“Feel so good, cariño,” he slurs, his voice low and raspy. “Feels like heaven when I’m inside you.”

Your cunt clenches at his words and he grunts, his movements stuttering slightly. Your chest heaves in an effort to stay quiet, knowing your friends are sleeping just on the other side of the thin walls of your shared vacation rental. They didn’t know about you and Santi, didn’t know that you’d been secretly fucking for months, didn’t know that you were head-over-heels in love with him.

To be fair though, Santi didn’t know that last bit either.

Your arrangement had been fun when it started, had scratched the proverbial itch, but as time had gone on, you’d started to want more. The sex was great, but you hated when it ended. Not just because it was over, but because one of you always left. That had been part of the arrangement: no staying the night. So you didn’t, he didn’t, and you ignore that ache you feel in your chest every time he rolls off your bed and starts putting on his clothes, ignore the queasiness that roils in your belly when he leans in and kisses the side of your head gently in goodbye, ignore the way your heart cracks as the door to your apartment clicks shut and you’re left in silence, alone.

You’d been planning to tell him, tell him that you couldn’t do this anymore, that you wanted (needed) more, more with him…but then he’d started kissing you and every other thought had flown right out the window. So here you were, writhing in pleasure beneath him as he played your body like a well-loved instrument, willing yourself to stay quiet so as to not alert the rest of your friend group. You shiver, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers the filthiest things. The sound of his voice, coupled with his words, pushes you higher and higher, and you whimper softly as you near the edge, your cunt fluttering around his cock.

Santi shushes you gently, pulling back a little to watch you, his dark eyes heavy and blown wide with lust. Your gaze locks with his, and you swallow hard to keep your moans at bay, your lips parting and releasing a soft, strangled sound. He pulls his lip between his teeth, nostrils flaring as he breathes hard through his nose, his body moving steadily over you.

As you watch him, the moonlight illuminating him from behind like an angel, you’re struck with the urge to cry. No, not just cry, full on sob. You can’t go on like this, having him but not having him. You want more, you deserve more…but you’re worried. Worried about how ending this will affect your friendship, that you’ll have to put up with seeing him date other women (or worse, that he won’t care when you start dating). You want to be present, be in the moment, want to enjoy yourself if this really is to be the last time. Even so, you can’t stop the tears as they slide down your cheeks, can’t stop the weight pressing on your chest, can’t stop the fracturing of your heart. A strange combination of euphoria and sorrow war within you, and you can’t do much more than ride it out, can’t do much more than cling to him like it’s the last time you’ll ever hold him (because it likely is).

He must notice your crying because he suddenly leans in, whispering comforting words that don’t really register in your brain as he kisses away your tears. He presses his forehead to yours, pushing you closer and closer to your peak, grinding his hips into yours and making you see stars.

You whimper softly as you come, your body shaking, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure washes over you. Santiago leans in, smothering his moans in your neck as you squeeze him, pulling him closer to the edge until his body stiffens, his sticky warmth coating your inner walls. The urge to wrap yourself around him, to keep him with you, keep him inside you, is so strong, but you resist, knowing it won’t make a difference.

Santi pulls back, smiling softly as he gazes down at you. You try to smile back, thankful for the darkness of the room as it means he can’t see the tears that are still leaking from the corners of your eyes. He swipes his thumbs over your cheeks and pauses, his lips twitching down when he feels the wetness there.

“Estás bien, cariño?” he whispers, his eyes quickly darting over your face. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You shake your head, willing your tears to stop falling.

“I’m okay,” you say, forcing a smile, “Just emotional, I guess.”

He grunts, and you can tell he’s not buying it. You never were very good at lying.

You do your best not to look at him for too long, knowing the longer he looks, the more likely it is that he’ll see, see it all, everything you’re trying to hide, trying to bury. Just when you think he’s going to let it go, you feel his hand cup your cheek.

“Look at me,” he whispers, his breath fanning across your cheek.

You try not to, really you do but, when it comes to Santi, you just can’t help yourself.

Your resolve crumbles the moment your eyes meet his, the words you’ve held back all these months spilling from between your lips like water from a broken dam. Tears blur your vision so much that you can’t really tell what effect your words are having on him, but you suppose that it doesn’t really matter in the end. You can feel yourself spiraling, your chest heaving with barely suppressed sobs, when Santi’s finger presses against your lips halts your descent.

“Did…you just say you loved me?” he asks softly, his voice and face unreadable.

Icy dread slices through you at the question. Had you said that? That you loved him? You don’t remember, but you must’ve, right? You panic, stuttering as you try to explain, your brain racing a million miles per hour as you search for the right words…but it turns out you don’t need them.

Santiago stops your lips again, this time with his own.

You’ve kissed him a thousand times before now but, somehow this time it’s different, this time it feels different. He takes his time, his kiss somehow both gentle and deep, like he’s pouring everything he has into it. He pulls away before you can kiss him back, a faint glimmer of something unfamiliar shining in his eyes when he meets yours again.

“I love you too,” he rasps, smiling down at you softly.

Your eyes widen a little, searching for the truth of his words in the darkness. “You do?”

He chuckles, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. “I do.”

You exhale sharply, a relieved laugh slipping from between your lips before you can stop it. You clap your hand over your mouth in surprise as Santiago’s smile widens, his eyes shining. You spend the next few hours wrapped in each other’s arms, talking about everything and nothing, content to just be.

You wake hours later to the sun streaming in through the windows and Santiago’s warmth at your back, your still-naked bodies tangled in the sheets and blankets. His arms are wrapped loosely around you, his face pressed into the back of your neck, and you can’t help the mix of relief and giddiness you feel knowing it wasn’t all some crazy fever dream. Your eye lashes flutter as sleep tries to call you back, the warm tendrils reaching for you, pulling gently—

Until the sound of someone clearing their throat drags you back to full consciousness.

Your head snaps toward the sound, your widened eyes meeting amused blue ones.

Santi stirs behind you, sighing softly as he presses a kiss against the base of your neck and rasps, “Morning.”

“Mornin’,” Benny responds, a smug smile on his lips as he takes in the sight of the two of you tangled in each other.

You feel Santi pause briefly before turning to meet his gaze.

“Breakfast is gettin’ cold,” Benny continues, suggestively pumping his eyebrows as he backs out of the room, leaving the door wide open.

Benny walks back to the kitchen, his footsteps thunking loudly against the wooden floor of the house as he calls out something about the other guys owing him a hundred dollars.

Santi snorts behind you, pushing his face against your shoulder as he dissolves into laughter, and you can’t help but follow suit.

“Guess we should go deal with that,” you chuckle, looking over your shoulder at him.

He smiles, his eyes shining with laughter as he leans in and presses a kiss to your lips. “Guess we should, cariño.”

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

🌟 Masterlist 🌟

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#santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x you #santiago pope garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia x you #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fic #santiago garcia smut #santiago pope garcia smut #triple frontier write-a-thon #triple frontier anniversary #my fic

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academiesofmusic · 6 months

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hoodharlow · 2 months

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Know You Get Sick of the Games 'Cause I Do Too

AN: part 2 🤭 everyone get ready to fight Jack

Requested? No

Warnings: Jack being a dumby, intense kissing, sad Miriam 🥺, and a messy teammate

Word Count: 3.7k words

Miriam twisted her curls into and held them in place with a claw clip. Practice dragged on for what felt like an eternity. She packed up the last of her things and texted her siblings she was on her way. She had a game in a few days in Jersey and the team was staying in New York for the week. She was going to stay with her team in the hotels but they allowed her to stay at her sister's place as long as she wasn't late for any training.

Beto, her bodyguard for when she traveled to away games, held the door of their rented Range Rover. He closed the door and went to the driver's seat.

“Can I put on my music?” Miriam asked.

“My rental, my music.” He said playing one of Metro Boomin’s instrumental versions of his albums.

The drive from Jersey to New York wasn't that long. They arrived to her sister's place and she rushed to change.

She picked out a pair of black trousers with a burgundy Vivienne Westwood cropped cardigan. She paired the look with her Versace platform boots and her vintage Vivienne Westwood pearl necklace with the gold embellished orb. Her phone pinged as she quickly did her makeup. Then it started to ring.

Miriam groaned and grabbed her phone. Without looking at who was calling her, she screamed and put it on speaker, going back to her makeup.

“Jesus,” Jack on the other end yelped.

Miriam scrambled to pick up her phone. “Ohmygod, I'm so sorry, I thought you were one of my siblings. They were spamming my phone because I lied about where I am.” She said.

“Wait, where are you?” He asked with concern.

“At my sister's place but I told them I was on my way to our go-to Thai place.” Miriam explained as she shoved all her necessities in her heart shaped bag.

“Oh, you're not free right now? Today is my day off.” He said, casually.

He was also in New York for work. After his birthday he left for Boston. He was cast in an action thriller movie and they were filming in Boston. Miriam didn't understand the plot he explained to her in one of their three hour long facetime calls, but she found it admirable that he was venturing out into acting.

“No, but I'm free later if you want to get dinner.” She said, locking her sister's penthouse.

“Sounds good. Want me to pick you up?” Jack asked.

“Nah, just text me the place and I'll meet you there.” Miriam said.

“Okay, I'll see you later.”

“Bye.”

Miriam hung up and smiled to herself. It was her first time having real alone time with Jack. He and Miriam have been talking on the phone and texting non-stop since his birthday. Even though she told herself not to catch any feelings, she caught feelings. She couldn't help it. Jack was kind, ambitious, intelligent, compassionate and embarrassingly funny. How could she not develop feelings for him? But a part of her knew better than to act on them. He's never hinted at feeling the same as her and she wasn't going to risk their new friendship for something like her own feelings.

As she walked out of her sister's place, paparazzi surrounded her. Beto shielded her as best he could while they got in the car. Ever since she started playing for and Racing Louisville, Miriam found herself more and more in the media. Now there was always some new article of her questioning her talent or some random picture someone took over while she was making a Target run. When she's in some major city like LA or New York City, there's a trail of paparazzi. Just yesterday JustJared posted about her adjusting her leggings when she was coming out of practice.

It was a huge adjustment for Miriam. Growing up her parents kept her and her siblings out of the media. Since she wasn't modeling or acting once she was a teen like her siblings, she was able to stay out of the limelight and have a ‘normal’ life until college. Though the paparazzi only followed her around for a bit because she was hooking up with Shawn Mendes in 2018 and he would visit the Bay Area a lot while he was working on his album. When things ended between them, the paparazzi retreated after realizing that Miriam had a pretty boring schedule and she was actually taking school seriously unlike several nepo babies that wanted the ‘college experience’ at USC.

While she waited for traffic to clear up, Miriam texted her siblings that she was on her way and they responded that they ate without her. She frowned and texted her dad that they left her to starve. Her dad left her on read but then she got several messages from her siblings calling her a snitch for tattling on them.

“Beto we're not going. Can you believe the twins ate without me?” She asked him.

He rounded the corner and opened the door for her. “Yes I can,” he said, guiding her back to the building. “It took you an hour and a half to get ready.”

“You try making an outfit with a limited closet. I couldn't even steal from Kat because half of them don't fit. Have you seen her patas? They're huge.” She explained as they rode the elevator.

Beto looked at her amused and remained quiet the rest of the ride to Kat's penthouse.

Miriam thought about texting Jack, but she didn't want him to think that he was a second option. So she ordered delivery from a cafe a few blocks down.

When her food came, she ate in her sister's closet, looking for an outfit. Could she just wear what she already had on? Yes but if she had known she was going on a date with Jack she would've packed accordingly. Was it a date? She thought to herself. Panic surged through her body. She placed her sandwich on its plate and looked for her phone. Jack had texted her earlier the address of the restaurant. It was pretty low key but still had a business casual dress code.

Miriam paced around the closet. She always overdressed. But this time she didn't want to over dress and give Jack the wrong idea. Or for him to think it was something more when it wasn't. They were just two friends grabbing dinner and nothing more.

Jack looked around to see if the coast was clear as they walked out of the restaurant. He and Miriam went to a hole in the wall Italian restaurant for dinner. Jack motioned Miriam to come out since there were no paps. Miriam linked her elbow with his as they walked the busy street.

She instantly regretted not staying in the black trousers she wore earlier. She held on to Jack tighter, praying that his hotel was close by. They didn't want to end their evening just yet. It was still pretty early so they were going back to the hotel to watch some movies.

“Cold?” He asked her.

“A bit, but I'll survive.” She reassured him.

They past a shop and it immediately caught Miriam’s attention. She steered her and Jack back.

She gasped, “I haven't had Magnolia's in forever. They have the best banana pudding and I hate banana flavor anything. Their chocolate icebox cake is to die for.”

She pulled her arm away from his and practically ran inside the bakery. Jack followed after her. He found her bending over the glass display looking at the rows of desserts. He silently groaned seeing her skirt ride up. And he was most definitely not thinking of pushing her skirt up to her hips and fucking her from behind.

Miriam had made it abundantly clear that she only wants to be friends. Jack wasn't going to risk the good friendship they have to fulfill his needs. No matter what. He was going to be respectful of what she wanted.

“Hold on,” Miriam told the cashier, bringing Jack back to reality.

She took several things out of her bag. Jack figured she was looking for her wallet, so he got his out.

“Here,” he told the cashier, handing them his card.

“Wait, no.” Miriam tried to argue as he shoved everything back in her bag.

“It's fine.” He took her hand and led her to the back corner.

“You paid for dinner and it was pretty expensive.” She pointed out.

“Are you implying that I'm broke?” He asked in an amused tone.

“No, it's that…” she couldn't find the words to explain herself.

“You're easy to mess with.” He laughed.

“Did you just call me easy?” She gasped dramatically. “At least buy me dinner first.”

“I already did.” He smirked, not breaking eye contact.

Before Miriam could reply one of the workers called her name. She walked over and thanked them when they handed her her order. She also dropped a few hundred dollar bills in the tip jar. She nodded at Jack to follow her out to a table outside.

“You're about to have a mouth-gasm.” She said, pulling out a tub of banana pudding.

“Respectfully, I'm from Kentucky. Banana pudding and icebox cakes are delicacies over there. I doubt they compare to what we have back home.” He said.

“Whatever, hater.” Miriam rolled her eyes. She took a spoonful of banana pudding and ate it. She moaned and did a little dance. “You're missing out.”

Jack rolled his eyes in response.

With that they continued walking to the hotel. The doorman opened the door for them and greeted them. Jack guided Miriam through the back hall, away from the small convenience shop and restaurant-bar where they could be seen and filmed.

Miriam continued eating her pudding as they rode the elevator to Jack's floor. She didn't finish it so she put it back in its paper bag. She felt Jack eyeing her when they walked down the hall to his suite.

“What?” She asked.

“You have pudding on your face.” He tapped the corner of his mouth.

“Shit.” She mumbled, wiping the opposite side that Jack pointed to.

“Here, I got it.”

He took a step closer and cradled her face. He swiped her cheek with his thumb and without breaking eye contact he licked it.

“Not bad,” he commented on the pudding. “Nothing beats–”

Miriam cut him off. She pulled his down to her level and claimed his lips. It took Jack a second to process what was happening, but he kissed her back with full force. He grabbed her hips and backed her into the door of his hotel room. He wedged one of his legs in between hers and let her slowly rub herself against his dark cargo pants. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as his hands rested on her ass. They slowly devoured each other, bodies melting into each other.

The door opened abruptly. Miriam nearly fell back, but Jack caught her. He spun her and pulled her to his side. They were face to face with Urban.

“Oh it's y'all, I thought it was room service.” He told them as they entered the room.

“Nope just us.” Miriam smiled innocently. She held up her paper bag. “Is it okay if I put this in the fridge?”

“Go ahead. The kitchenette is down the hall.” Urban answered for Jack.

“Thanks.” She nodded, making her way over.

Urban to Jack with a knowing smirk.

“Don't.” Jack warned him in a hush tone.

“Hey, I'm not the one dry humping my idol's daughter in the middle of a hotel hallway.” Urban whispered back.

“It wasn't like that.” He argued. “Now shut up Miriam's coming.”

“I bet she is.” His best friend mumbled.

“Can I use your restroom?” She asked them.

“My room has an ensuite bathroom. It's down the hall.” Jack told her.

“Cool, thanks.” She nodded.

Urban walked to the small living room. One of the couches there was a CVS bag. He dug through it and pulled out a box of condoms.

“You're going to need these more than I will.” He said, not being able to keep a straight face.

“You're a fucking ass. We won't need any.” Jack said defensively.

“You better not hit it raw.” Urban put his hands on his hips. “You can get her pregnant and ruin her career. The US women's team is having trials for the next few months for their world cup.”

Jack sighed. “We won't need any because we're not having sex.”

Urban placed the box on the table behind the couch where he was watching some action rom-com. “I'll leave them here just in case. Just let me know so I can have my soundproof headphones on deck.”

Jack flipped him off and went to his room. Miriam was leaning against the desk typing furiously, so he went to sit on the edge of the bed. She sensed his presence and put her phone down on the desk.

“Sorry, my friend Shawn is in town and he wanted to know if I could record some back up vocals for him tomorrow.” she said, walking to him.

“So…” He trailed off.

“I was looking at the movie list and they have Ready or Not showing in one of the channels if you want to watch that.” Miriam suggested.

She was not going to bring up the kiss. She was embarrassed that his best friend almost caught them and it would be best if she avoided it unless Jack brought it up. Then she would be more than happy to admit that the kiss caused her soack through her panties.

“Yeah, that's fine. Help yourself to anything in the mini fridge.” Jack nodded to the mini fridge as he kicked off his shoes.

Miriam nodded, but she didn’t take anything. She sat on the other side of the bed and took off her white calf-length MiuMiu boots. She sat a bit closer to Jack but not too close. He passed her the remote and she put in the channel for the movie.

The opening credits were barely beginning, so they hadn't missed much. As the movie progressed Jack and Miriam moved closer and closer to each other. They whispered among themselves their reactions to the movies. Miriam loved a gory movie but Ready or Not had real effects and it wasn't GCI like other movies. So when the families started exploding one by one she hugged Jack's arm and hid her face. She draped her legs over his lap. Jack held onto her knee as he flinched. The final credits rolled and they were still huddled together.

“Man, that was fucking insane.” Jack chuckled.

“I love that movie. It's such a fun movie. Plus Adam Brody is a plus. He really solidified my type in men.” Miriam said.

“Yeah, what's your type?” He asked out of curiosity.

“I like them funny.” She shrugged, maintaining eye contact with him as she sat on her knees.

“What else?” He leaned a bit closer.

“Having brown curly hair is a plus.” She added.

Jack hummed in response. He held her cheek and brought her closer to him, closing the space between them. Unlike the kiss in the hallway. This one was slow and carnal. Miriam climbed Jack's lap and deepened their kiss. He gripped her hips and guided them on his crotch. His hands wandered down to her ass and he pushed her skirt up to her waist, getting a better grasp on her ass.

Miriam pulled back and took off her top, staying in a simple t-shirt bra from Aerie. She kissed Jack a few times then unfastened it from the front. She let it fall off her shoulders. She leaned forward to kiss Jack once more but he put his hand in between them.

“This is a mistake.” He said.

Miriam's stomach dropped. “Oh.”

She scrambled off his lap and began grabbing her things. She haphazardly put on her bra and rushed out of his room, pushing past Urban as she rushed out of the suite.

“Wait, Miriam.” Jack called after her.

“Don't.” She said, wiping tears off her cheeks.

She pressed the elevator button, praying that it opened before Jack got to her. Jack tried to reach for her arm but she pushed his hand away.

“Don't fucking touch me.” She sneered.

He took a step back with his hands up in surrender. The elevator opened and she slid inside. As it closed she lifted her middle finger at him.

•••

@'justjared: Canadian pop star Shawn Mendes and Racing Louisville FC's brand new soccer player, the daughter of actress Isabela Miller and retired soccer player, Miriam Dominguez-Miller were spotted out and bought in New Jersey leaving Ciao Ristorante. The pair have been formerly linked in 2018 and were spotted galavanting all over the globe. They haven't been seen together since early 2019. The 24 year old soccer player has been formerly linked to NBA player Kaleob Young and singer Kehlani. Click in the 🔗 for more.

•••

When Miriam said her friend Shawn wanted her to do backup vocals, she was apparently talking about Shawn Mendes. Jack was not one to lurk, but after seeing the paparazzi pictures of Miriam and Shawn, he got curious and read any article about them that he could find. He mainly found some paparazzi pictures from 2018 and articles of wondering who Miriam was before some gossip pages wrote about how she was the forgotten child of Mateo and Isabela.

“Dude, you gotta let it go. You did it to yourself.” Urban said, taking Jack's phone. “Now pay attention to the game.”

They were at the Red Bull Arena watching Racing Louisville play against NJ/NY Gotham FC. Miriam didn't start but in the second half she was swapped in. She was on the field for five minutes and already had grass stains all over her uniform. Jack averted his eyes away from her ass and tried not to think about how two nights before he was squeezing over his dick.

He felt like shit. He didn't mean to say that it was a mistake but his mouth was faster than his brain. What he really meant was that he didn't want to have sex with Urban in the other room. Not because Urban would blab or anything, but he wanted Miriam all to himself. He wanted to be the only one to hear how she would come undone when he ate her out or how she would sound saying his name after three rounds. Jack cursed feeling his pants tighten around his crotch. He shifted in his seat and tried to pay attention to the game.

Racing Louisville won 1-0. Miriam had scored, surprising no one. What did get the crowd going was that she did the Dominating-Dominguez. A special move named after her dad that very few players could do. Messi tried once for shits and giggles but cramped up.

Jack tried looking for Miriam because she wouldn't answer his calls and left on-read. But fans kept approaching him for pictures. Security came and cleared up the area so Jack could leave. He saw Miriam on her phone with her siblings as he and Urban walked through the private hallway. He was about to approach her when Shawn Mendes swooped in.

“That didn't take long.” Larissa said from behind Jack.

“Hey,” he gave her a side hug, “I didn't see you in the field.”

“I rolled my ankle during conditioning.” She said.

“I'm sorry to hear that.” Jack said.

“Yeah, but that was yesterday's news. The real breaking news is Miriam and Shawn getting back together.” She said leaning against the wall.

“Back together?” He asked curiously.

“Yeah, they dated for almost a year. But Shawn dumped her ass for the whole PR thing with my girl Camila Cabello. Miriam was so devastated. I genuinely thought she was going to quit school and soccer but she went to Princeton for some summer program and came back good as new. Apparently they've been talking so I'm glad they're trying again. They make a cute couple, no?” Larissa asked.

“I guess.” He shrugged.

He watched as Shawn gave Miriam a bear hug then gave her siblings side hugs. Miriam then bid her siblings goodbye and approached Larissa.

“Hey.” She smiled at them.

Urban was closest to her so she hugged him first. She hesitated on how to greet Jack, but she decided to just go for the hug. He gave her a once over and walked away, nodding at Urban to follow him.

“Good game.” Urban said, giving Miriam a soft smile.

“Bye, Urban.” She returned the smile.

Urban jogged after Jack. Miriam couldn't hear what they bickered about, but she did hear that loud smack Urban gave Jack in the back of his neck.

“That was weird.” Larissa commented.

“I wouldn't know, you've known them longer.” Miriam shrugged.

“So tell me about Shawn.” She nudged Miriam's shoulder as they walked toward their sprinter van.

“What's there to talk about? I met up with him at the studio and recorded two demos. We went to lunch with his team and got papped.” Miriam shrugged.

“I thought you guys were getting back together.” She said.

Miriam made a face. “Oh god no. Plus what we had back then was nothing mote than friends with benefits, remember? He's a good collaborator. If I wanted to get into music, I'd hit him up.”

“Must be nice to have mommy and daddy pay for my things so I can make as many career choices as I want.” Larissa said sarcastically.

“I mean yeah, but who said I was? I'm just saying if. I have no actual plans. I'm committed to soccer.” Miriam frowned.

“I know I'm just playing.” She laughed, pushing Miriam's shoulder.

Miriam rolled her eyes and sat behind her. She pulled out her journal and her headphones. Teddy, Shawn's producer and songwriter, passed her some beats for her to use when they finished the studio session. She always encouraged Miriam to try out singing, but Miriam always said no.

She had a lot riding on her shoulders. She wanted to continue her dad's legacy. He's not pressuring her to do so, but she was the only one out of her siblings that wanted to play. The twins followed their mom's footsteps going into acting and modeling. She didn't want to throw off any balance by just pursuing music.

Miriam looked down at the new entry in her journal. ‘Platonik’ was scribbled at the top in her loopy writing. She crossed it off and shoved her journal deep in her backpack.

Soccer was her main focus. Nothing and no one was going to get in her way. Not even some Kentucky born rapper that she wished she hadn't caught feelings for.

#jack harlow #jack and miriam #jack and miriam: soccer edition #jack harlow smut #Jack harlow angst #jack harlow fanfic #Jack harlow imagine #jack harlow oneshot

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afewproblems · 11 months

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98 for Robin?

98. "Hold me back!"

Ahhh thank you very much for this! I'm sorry it was so late nonny!

This is taking place in the same universe as this piece which you can also read on AO3

***

"I swear to God" Robin moans as she smacks her head onto the counter, "I will walk into traffic if I have to explain the plot of Labyrinth one more time".

Steve puts the money from the recent rental into the till and shrugs, "I dunno Birdy, I liked your take on it this time".

She snorts, finally cracking a grin, "you just liked the look on her face when I talked about how half the movie is Bowie's package and the other half is Muppets".

"Potato, Tomato," Steve hums, closing the till with a soft snick.

For a Saturday opening shift it had been strangely slow.

They had their usual guests during the day, screaming children with parents who were clearly at the end of their tether. Irritating teens who stole as many snacks as their thieving little backpacks could handle. Movie nerds who asked for as many titles as they could think of before settling on something so obscure there was no way they carried it -or on the off chance Family Video did have it in their inventory, it was already checked out.

However, with half an hour until Keith was set to arrive for the closing shift, the front door bell jingled harshly to announce a new presence in the store and in an instant Robin’s stomach falls into her shoes.

Because Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins have just walked in.

Robin has dealt with assholes from highschool before, she had to wear a sailor outfit with shorts for her last job for fucks sake, but she’s also never gotten into a physical fight with any schmucks from her forth period algebra class.

Steve on the other hand…

He’s on the other side of the counter all of a sudden, standing in between her and Tommy.

His expression seems neutral, but Robin can read the line of tension in his shoulders as Carol whispers something into Tommy’s ear.

"Welcome to Family Video," Robin says, her voice clipped and stony, "it's two for one Saturday and all the sections are labeled so you should be able to get in and get out".

"Come on, we just got here," Tommy scoffs, he's glaring openly at Steve while Carol seems to be scanning Robin, watching her carefully.

"Boy, you really do have a type huh Stevie," Carol sneers from Tommy's side, "at least this one plays an instrument, she's just as stuck up as Wheeler though from what I remember".

"If you guys don't want to rent anything, then leave," Steve says slowly, deliberately with wary hostility.

"You're suddenly so fucking tough huh?" Tommy scoffs, stepping closer towards Steve.

Carol moves with him but her eyes widen slightly in surprise, she grabs at his arm and pulls just slightly, "Tommy--"

"I'm not going to fight you man," Steve sighs, running a hand over his face and into his hair, Robin watches as his shoulders droop ever so slightly.

She knows Steve has complicated feelings about his former friends, they'd known one another for such a long time and those old feelings don't just disappear.

He'd been hurt to see Tommy and Carol gravitate towards Billy so easily. To egg him on as he bullied Steve their senior year, the tables turned so suddenly it was like whiplash.

Well, Steve may feel conflicted about his old shithead friends, but Robin has no such compunction.

"He won't but I will," Robin blurts out, the words run away from her faster than she can even catch up to them.

Steve closes his eyes, his expression pained while Tommy and Carol both turn to her with equal looks of surprise.

Huh, it's the first time in her life she's ever seen Carol Perkins speechless and it's glorious.

Robin lets the thrill of it carry her forward until she's stepped around the counter to stand beside Steve.

“Yeah, Steve's gonna have to hold me back,” Robin snarls as she grabs Steve’s hand and places it on her own shoulder.

Steve gives her a withering look as he mimes pulling a zipper over his own mouth.

"You let your bitch off her leash huh Harrington?" Tommy says with a lecherous grin as he stares at them both.

He lets out two barks and laughs again as he swings an arm around Carol's shoulder, her tinkling laugh joins his own and Robin can't believe this is even happening. Did she hit her head getting out of Steve's car this morning?

Fuck this.

"Funny stuff Hagan," Robin bites out, "your ass must be pretty jealous of your mouth for all the nasty shit it gets to spew in public".

"What did you just say to me?" Tommy snarls as he stomps closer, his ears have turned a ruddy pink that matches the flush crawling up his neck.

Carol tries to reach for his arm, whispering, "just drop it Tommy, let's go," but he wrenches away from her and continues forward, only stopping as a flat palm catches him in the chest.

Steve stands his ground in front of Tommy, looking down his nose with cold eyes.

Steve told her about the last time he and Tommy had squared off. It was just before Robin spotted Steve outside the corner store while she waited for her mother to pay for their things, the aftermath that she hadn't thought much of at the time, but now…

Steve walks forward, using his height to his advantage to tower imposingly over Tommy, his face twisted into a vicious snarl that Robin has only seen one other time, underneath Starcourt.

"Get out, I don't want to tell you again Tommy," Steve says lowly under his breath, just loud enough that Robin has to strain to hear him.

Tommy's eyes narrow as his mouth pulls into a sneer, "and what are you gonna do about it, you're not scary Harrington," he grins despite taking a step back as Steve continues forward, pushing them towards the front door.

"I don't have to be scary, but I do have an in with your drug dealer and I can make it impossible for you to score for as long as you live in this godforsaken shithole".

"You're bluffing".

"Try me," Steve whispers just as the bell dings again at the front of the store. Tommy doesn't look away from Steve even as Carol exclaims a small, 'oh', beside him.

Robin smirks and leans back against the counter, raising her hand in an enthusiastic wave towards the entrance, "hey Eddie!"

Tommy curses under his breath and wrenches himself away from Steve, just in time to see the murderous expression on Eddie's face.

Carol takes the opportunity to grab at the sleeve of Tommy's shirt and drag him the last few steps away towards the door, they give Eddie a wide berth as they pass.

Tommy glares at Steve and Robin the entire way, muttering curses under his breath as Robin blows them a kiss with her middle finger.

The bell jingles again as the door swings open and falls gently closed, leaving them in an uneasy silence.

"You guys okay?" Eddie says quietly after a beat, he steps towards Steve, his brow pinched with concern.

Steve nods silently before turning towards Robin. She expects a lecture from the frown on his face but blinks in surprise as Steve pulls her into a tight hug.

"Don't do that again," he mumbles into her hair, she opens her mouth to speak, to insist that she doesn't need a babysitter like his gaggle of children.

"I know it's just Tommy," Steve breathes out as though reading her mind, "but I don't think I could handle it if something happened to you Robin, I mean it".

And all at once the fight drains out of her as Robin wonders just how she wound up with someone like Steve Harrington in her corner.

"I wasn't going to let them talk shit," she huffs, despite pressing even closer, she feels his head shake against her own.

"I can take a hit and I'm not going to let some asshole have a chance to go after you too," he says sharply.

Robin rolls her eyes and steps back just enough to look him in the eyes, "remember what your annoying child friend said, if you die, I die".

She shrugs at the incredulous expression on his face, "what? Smartest thing that kid has ever said".

"You're ridiculous," Steve whispers and there's so much warm affection in his voice as he squeezes her once more, that Robin has to bury her face in his shoulder to hide the sudden shine in her eyes.

Eddie seems to take this as his cue to move forward and let his hand rest on Steve's lower back, the pinched look fading slightly as he smiles at Robin.

"Well, my original plan was to take Stevie here, out after his shift, buuut I'm thinking the three of us are in need of a night on the town, what do you say Buckaroo?" Eddie asks with a waggles of his eyebrows and a wide grin.

"I'll come if you never call me that again," Robin says with as much of a straight face as she can muster.

Steve barks out a laugh as he leans into Eddie's side, "oh you've done it now Buckaroo".

Robin squawks and flaps her hands at Steve until he ducks away behind Eddie who immediately shields his face with his hands.

"You think way too highly of me if you think that's where I'm aiming," Robin says dryly, snorting as Eddie gasps and lifts a leg for further protection, prompting them both to collapse into a fit of giggles while Steve watches fondly.

They all eventually relax, falling into an easy conversation as Steve and Robin finish up the last of the morning duties. The tension from earlier fading away as Eddie sits on the counter top, with his eyes on the door, watching out, just in case.

#platonic stobin #robin buckley pov #steve harrington #eddie munson #tommy hagan #carol perkins #afewproblems writes #afewproblems answers #stranger things #we love protective steve harrington #protective robin buckley #robin buckley is ride or die #eddie munson is the supportive boyfriend that loves their shenanigans and is definitely hoping for robins approval #steve x eddie #more of this universe because I love the idea of these three being friends before season 4 #wip weekend #I know no one voted for my askbox list but its been haunting me

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omimedtech · 25 days

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#surgical instrument repair #medical equipment rental jacksonville fl #endoscope repair in florida #medical equipment tampa fl #x-ray equipment repair florida #jacksonville surgical center

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jacksprostate · 5 months

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Tyler is hopping around on his pogo stick again. When he lands, it's with a mushy thump as he sinks into the rotting floorboards. Sometimes he gets stuck and just tips over instead of bouncing back up. It makes him stumble and jump ship. Moment of perfection ruined.

I need to renew my driver's license, I say.

"What are you telling me for?"

Thud.

If Tyler's bed had a backboard, this is how it would sound before he and Marla pounded through to the next room.

I am Jack's throat of bile.

"Fine," Tyler says. "We'll go."

I do not say, we? Questioning Tyler is an amateur move I've managed to avoid for two months now.

Getting to the DMV takes three buses and a thirty minute walk. Presumably, they've decided you'll be driving there. Sometimes I think about the Audi I had before my Dakapo halogen torchiere speared it. One of Zeus' modern day lightning bolts, making sure the debris from my exploded condo totaled my car.

I could've gotten the windshield replaced. Somewhere, in a junkyard filled with unloved 50s salvage, there's the crushed up cube remains of this year's luxury sedan.

Tyler spends the entire time walking one half step behind me, making me lead him around. It makes me feel blind, like I'm a thirty year old boy still trying to get his father to take him places. I am the world's most easily played instrument. Whenever I look back he's grinning, chipped teeth and split lips.

It's a Saturday and we've arrived two hours or so after opening. This means that when I get my ticket stub, it reads an obscenely high number. I will be sitting here for the next six hours. Give or take.

The thing about seating in a government building is they know you have no choice to be there for at least two hours, if you're lucky. Naturally, the chairs are cheap, yawning plastic bolted into the floor at a height most optimal for slightly tall seven year olds.

Tyler and I toss ourselves into the only two person gap we can find, between a large man giving Bob a run for his money on hormone reversal and a frail woman in her eighties. Both look like I'd see them on a weeknight. I wonder if this is where Marla lurks in the time between when she's fucking Tyler and fucking up my support groups.

"You don't need this shit," Tyler says.

He's slouching into the chair, arms crossed and legs long and in the way. If I were to look where his shirt is rucked up, I'd see his skin disappear into the dark gap between his chiseled hip and the beige slacks he puts on when he pretends he's pretending to be a nice person. It's an obvious farce, since he hasn't even bothered to put underwear on.

This is one of those things that I try not to think too hard about, but I have something like four hundred minutes left to wait around here. I should've brought a few National Geographics.

I need a driver's license for my job, Tyler, I say. The old woman gives me a look.

"Christ." Tyler spits on the floor. I try not to be jealous. My seat neighbor, she gets right up and goes to the other end of the building. "Just roll over, why don't you."

I can tell, this will be a lesson. He gets this huge sureness about himself, like his dick is so big it's slapped his face into that smug false contemplation.

I need some kind of ID, Tyler.

Tyler says, "No you don't. Your bank already has you by the balls with your social security number. You ride the bus around. You're at the airport so often the airline staff recognize you. You only drive when work sends you to a small town, which happens fuck all three times a year. Tell me, you get a good fake, you think the overworked and underpaid car rental employee writing down your information would notice it unless you crashed his car? You know if that happened it'd be because you did it to kill yourself, so where's the problem?"

You could be a perfect driver and die on the road at any second, I protest.

We're attracting attention. Not Bob shifts around. Our conversation is quiet but unnerving.

Tyler says, "Does it feel nice, signing yourself up like a feedlot steer?"

Fucking hell, Tyler. It's not like anyone wants to do this. No one wants to be here. Not everyone can work three night shifts and have no identity according to the government.

Tyler says, "The only thing stopping you is the little set of rules you've set up for yourself."

What does Tyler know about my ability to do things?

"More than you," Tyler says. "You didn't think you could fight. You didn't think you could live without your perfect IKEA nest."

He's right. I still want to kick him to the floor and introduce his teeth to the tile. I notice, Not Bob has cleared the area. Retreat to safety. Bomb detonation in five, four. We've got a three seat berth on each side with people standing packed against the walls of the place.

A lone security guard floats our way.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave, sir."

It's not the way that the men at fight club have started calling me sir. The security guard is looking at me like he knows about my condo blowing up, and he feels awfully sure about the cause.

I need to renew my driver's license.

Tyler says, "If we pay taxes for this building, these workers, doesn't that mean we pay your salary? You're going to kick out your kindest boss?"

"If you don't leave, I'll have to call the police."

Tyler says, "Can't even do it yourself?"

I think, every second of this day has been excruciating, and I have been awake for 77 hours.

Tyler socks the security guard right in the jaw, and the crowd goes wild.

It happens like this: Tyler hits the security guard with all four knuckles, all the people start screaming, and the security guard goes for his gun. I am standing in the middle of this hurricane, calm like a baby that's just been left in the car in 90 degree weather. I start walking.

Behind me, Tyler wrestles for the gun. He tosses it towards the kiosk that spat out my waiting ticket. He lets the security guard hit him in the gut. The face. The face again. He's on the ground, bloody spit threading his rebroken smile, and the security guard is kicking him in the gut. Tyler curls into a ball, the security guard kicks him in the kidneys. This will give Tyler bruises like size thirteen boots and make him piss blood for three weeks.

I reach the door, and Tyler's crawling after me. The security guard has come out of his haze, and now the crowd is staring at him. The headline: local DMV worker brutally bludgeons mentally ill constituent. People stare at him, now aware of the violence he is capable of. They wonder. He wonders.

Tyler limps out the door. We get on the bus and the driver stares at us and does not make us pay when we walk past him to the seats. The driver had a black eye. We saw him at fight club last week.

We sit, and I tell Tyler, because of him I'm definitely on a list now. Like they had for all those communists, but now it's for schizophrenics who might bomb their local state Department of Motor Vehicles location. I tell him if I get a letter saying I have to show up in court because I beat up a government worker, I'm sending him, and he can have fun explaining that to whatever rancid old judge presides over our case.

He laughs, and laughs, and laughs.

#fight club #my writing #this ones a little long actually. one day i'll probably put all these on ao3 #inspired by me recently having to do govt stuff. wasnt this but its what i could think of something coming up 4 the narrator #ftr “chipped teeth and split lips” is where my brain was like. :) done!#like no. theres more to be done here

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coffeeghoulie · 7 months

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i feel like #11 from the physical guestures list would fit rulti...maybe swiss trying to distract rain while he's restringing his bass?

any inaccuracies about restringing basses are on me, I was a percussionist and the last time I touched a string instrument was like 14 years ago and god knows they wouldn't have let me restring a rental violin lmao. Hope you enjoy!

prompt from this prompt list: placing kisses on your lovers shoulder and nape as they are bent down, trying to focus on their work though they're very hot and bothered

"Hand me the knife, honey?" Rain asks, not looking up as he extends a hand, focused on the fretboard of his personal bass. He sits on the edge of his bed, dressed casually in a black binder and basketball shorts, hair loose and falling against his shoulders.

Swiss hums, pulling his utility knife out of his pocket, flipping open the wire cutters, and setting it gently in Rain's palm. He's sprawled out on his back, lounging on Rain's bed in a similar state of dress, watching Rain work.

He loosens each string, fingers almost reverent on the tuning peg as each string goes slack, clipping it near the pickups and carefully unwinding it from the guitar. Once the fretboard is bare, he grabs a cloth he had set aside, cleaning the guitar with gentle, back and forth motions.

Swiss whistles low, gold eyes lazily tracking the up and down motions of Rain's hand, wrapped around the neck of his bass as he cleans the fretboard. Rain snaps out of his reverie, looking over his shoulder at the multighoul, an easy grin twisting his lips. "Alright, enough, you guitarfucker," Rain teases, laughter spilling into his tone as he smacks Swiss's shoulder with the rag.

Swiss scoffs, matching Rain's grin. "I'm sorry I'm bored and I find you attractive, Rainbow."

Rain rolls his eyes, but he's still smiling softly. "You and I both know that you're not sorry. Be patient and I'll give you attention."

Swiss grins wider, baring his bright white fangs as he crosses his arms behind his head. "You promise, Rainy?"

"Yes, you needy, needy ghoul," Rain says, jabbing his webbed fingers into Swiss's flank, making the multighoul squeal in laughter. "Let me finish this and then you'll get your attention."

Swiss settles back against the mattress as Rain turns back to his bass, starting to thread the new strings through the bridge. Rain lips are pursed as he focuses, the tip of his forked tongue peeking out from his lips, an adorable little furrow in his brow as his hair hangs in his face.

Swiss stares, watching the water ghoul's expression as he works. He sighs as his gaze trails down to Rain's shoulders, bare blue skin spattered with silver, iridescent freckles. On impulse, Swiss sits up behind him, resting his big, warm hands on the cool blue skin of Rain's waist, thighs bracketing Rain's own.

"Patience," Rain says, not even bothering to look back at him as Swiss's body heat rushes into his system.

"I'm being patient, Rainy," Swiss promises, even as he bends down to press a kiss to one of the silvery freckles on Rain's shoulder.

Rain chuckles, pausing his work to run his fingers over Swiss's tight curls as he starts to press a kiss to each freckle. "This doesn't seem very patient to me, Swiss."

Swiss laughs, the sound melodic, his lips right against Rain's finned ear. "I'm not stopping you, Rainbow."

Rain shivers as his breath hits his fin, ear twitching against his hair. Swiss noses against the blue black waves as his kisses migrate to the nape of his neck. "Swiss," Rain breathes, warning in his tone.

"Tell me to stop, Rainbow, and I swear I will," Swiss says, lips pressed to the back of Rain's neck, breathing in the scent of his tea-tree shampoo.

There's no response, and Swiss just grins against Rain's skin, teeth pressed harmlessly against that first vertebrae, the spade of his tail smacking against the rumpled bedspread. Rain huffs, turning back to his bass, laid out precious in his lap, and continues restringing it.

Swiss grins even wider as Rain's tail curls slowly around his thigh. He purrs, chest rumbling against Rain's spine, his dorsal fin pressed against Swiss's warm skin. Swiss lets go of Rain's lithe waist, instead wrapping his arms around the water ghoul, careful not to knock into his arms as he works. He trails his kisses around the side of Rain's throat, kissing just at the edge of one of his sensitive gills, and Rain swears.

"Swiss, the longer it takes me to finish this, the longer it'll be before I can give you my undivided attention," Rain says, starting to thread the last string in place.

Swiss laughs again, rubbing his stubbled cheek gently against Rain's gills, grinning as he feels the gust of breath from Rain's throat and hooking his chin over Rain's shoulder. "Take your time, Rainbow. I like watching you work."

Rain hums, tilting his head to press his cheek against Swiss's horn, tightening the tuning key and plucking at the thinnest metal string, humming a note and trying to match pitch.

"You're sharp," Swiss breathes, humming slightly lower.

Rain rolls his eyes, knocking his horn against Swiss's as he loosens the key. "Show off. Not all of us can have perfect pitch."

Swiss just grins. "Trying to be helpful."

"And I appreciate it," Rain says, finding the right pitch, plucking the string several times. "I trust your judgment."

He nuzzles against Swiss's cheek as he finishes up, handing the multighoul back his utility knife.

"You done?" he asks, smile growing brighter as Rain pushes at his arms.

"Let me up, Swiss, gotta put her back," Rain says, successfully getting the multighoul to let go of him as he stands, taking his bass in gentle hands and setting it back on its stand.

Swiss's tail wags rapidly as Rain turns back towards him, smile easy as he stands between Swiss's legs. He cups Swiss's cheeks in his hands, smoothing a thumb over his stubble as the multighoul grins up at him. "Is it time for attention now?" Swiss teases, turning his head to kiss at the webbing between Rain's unglamored fingers.

"Yes, you needy ghoul," Rain says, shivering as he kisses the sensitive membrane. "You have all of my attention. Kiss me."

Swiss surges up, eager to oblige.

#did i give swiss a swiss army knife? yes. im so funny lmao #dot's writing #fic request #kkaisarion #swiss ghoul #rain ghoul #swiss/rain #the band ghost fanfiction #the band ghost

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