#anyways she would never be a car but as ive said before | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rafeandonlyrafe · 6 months

Text

virginity

words: 3.2k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, virgin!reader and virgin!rafe, kind of bullying at the beginning, very cute and fluffy rafe, reader is implied to be a kook, first date, female receiving oral, fingering, p in v sex, protected (for once! yay) sex

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @dreamingwithrafe @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog

“oh my god, bridgette, you'll never guess who asked me out!” you squeal, flopping onto her bed.

“ooh, umm… kelce?” she guesses, but you just shake your head no, the smile on your face growing.

“rafe!”

bridgette sits up instantly. “rafe as in rafe cameron?” you can tell by the look on her face that she's skeptical.

“the one and only.” you nod.

“but um… he doesn't date?” she says, genuine confusion in her voice.

“i thought you said he was basically a rich frat boy?” you sit up, now thinking over the interaction, but there's no way to confuse “will you go to dinner with me tomorrow night?” as anything other than asking on a date.

“well, yeah, he parties and stuff but he doesn't… date. he's never had a girlfriend.”

“well, ive never really had a boyfriend.” you shrug. “and don't say jonathan because he does not count.”

“yeah, but you have an excuse, y/n. your parents moved you all over the country, you didn't have time to date until your parents settled here a few months ago.” bridgette counters, and she does have a point. you've never been in one place long enough to form a true relationship. “i think rafe just doesn't date because he doesn't like any girls enough.”

you frown, thinking over her words. “well i guess that means he likes me enough to ask.” you say quietly.

bridgette shrugs. “good for you. he better take you somewhere expensive, boy has MONEY!” she says, causing you both to erupt into laughter. “oh…” bridgette suddenly quiets. “i wouldn't tell evelyn. she has the biggest crush on him, she'd get so jealous if she knew you asked him out.”

-- the next day --

“hey dad…” you say in a sweet voice, fluttering your eyelashes at him.

“oh god, y/n, what do you want?”

“can i borrow your credit card?” you ask with a whine.

“y/n, you are an adult! you can’t keep borrowing my credit card! what do you need anyways?” “a new outfit… for a date tonight.” you whisper the last part, but your dads eyes still bulge open.

“a what?” “come on dad, all my outfits are so revealing, don’t you want me to buy something more covered up? or should i wear that pink skirt mom got me-” “no!” your dad cuts you out, fishing his wallet out of his pocket, slapping the credit card into your hand. “something that doesn’t show too much skin, y/n.” he warns, and you nod and run out to your car before he can lecture you or ask you any more questions about the date.

you look through the rack of dresses, trying to find one that you like and would feel comfortable in tonight with rafe. you don't want to give him the wrong idea by showing up wearing a dress that's more suited for a club or party.

you have some hangers already in your hand of dresses to try on when you hear a shout of your name. you look up to see evelyn and her two best friends following her.

when you moved to the outer banks, you quickly assimilated into the social scene and learned that evelyn was the queen bitch, super wealthy, but not at all likable, with an insane amount of possessiveness over rafe, despite him never even showing interest in her. evelyns first words to you were to stay away from him, but you won't let her intimidate you away from this date.

“what are you shopping for?” evelyn asks, her lips smeared in a bright red shade of lipstick that contrasts her light hair.

“a date tonight.” you reply, keeping your eyes mostly on the clothes, trying to convey that you're not interested in whatever show of dominance she's attempting.

“i heard about that. how did you scam rafe into taking you somewhere?” she asks, her friends snickering behind her.

“he asked me, actually.” you hum, keeping your body language disinterested, despite feeling your heart start to beat faster. “I guess he likes me.”

“that's real funny, y/n.” evelyn says, placing her hand on the rack to stop you from looking. “because rafe is mine.”

“should i call him right now?” you look her in the eye, your temper reading on your face. “should I have him tell you what you already know? that he's not interested?”

“you are such a bitch!” evelyn yells, and the storekeeper finally becomes aware of the situation, heading out from behind the counter and towards you. “i will ruin you for stealing him.” evelyn states before turning and stomping out of the store, her entourage falling in step behind her.

“miss, are you okay?” the shopkeeper asks.

you hum and nod, knowing that whatever they plan on doing won't work, evelyn may have popularity because of her money, but everyone knows not to trust a word out of her mouth. “can i get a dressing room to try these on actually?” you ask, picking up a dress that you think would be perfect for tonight.

the doorbell rings and you give your father a glare, already having warned him to stay in the living room and let you answer the door. the last thing you need is your father scaring rafe before your date has even begun.

you open the door, letting out a breath of relief when rafe is also dressed up. you realized while buying the dress that you didn't actually know where you were going for dinner, you just assumed it would be on the fancier side.

“wow.” rafe let's out a gasp, “you look beautiful.”

you blush, smoothing out the front of your dress, giving you an excuse to break eye contact and look down at yourself. “you look really handsome too.”

“let me help you down the stairs.” rafe extends his hand, and you subtly wipe your palm against your dress before placing it in his, accepting his help out the front door as these are new heels (you couldn't resist when your dad gave you his card).

rafe keeps your hands locked together as he leads you towards his truck, of course opening the door for you and helping you in.

you smile at rafe as he gets into the driver's seat. “im excited.” you tell him honestly.

“me too.” rafe grins, keeping his eyes on the road as he takes off but reaching over your tangle your fingers together again. “im nervous too though.”

“rafe cameron did not just admit he is nervous.” you gasp, making rafes smile grow as he shakes his head.

“i really like you.” he explains further, making you smile and lift his hand to your face, pressing your lips to it in a kiss.

“how's your food?” rafe asks, taking a bite of his own. you ordered salad, too nervous to eat anything else in front of rafe. since he admitted how he felt about the date, it felt all the more real.

“it’s really good!” you say. “thanks for taking me.”

rafe smiles at you, his eyes containing a warmth you haven’t seen before. “so, where did you live before moving to the outer banks?”

you had told rafe before that you moved around a lot, but never got into the specifics, so you spend most of the dinner telling him all the states that you’ve lived in and responding to his questions while asking some of your own.

rafe accepts the check and pays for you without question, brushing off your thanks before leading you out of the restaurant, his hand firmly placed on your back.

“do i need to get you home by any time?” rafe asks when you get back in the car.

“no.” you shake your head. “i don’t want to go home yet either.”

rafe smiles at you, reaching over to place his hand on your thigh as he drives towards his house. you hum softly to the music, glad for the short drive before you’re walking into tanneyhill. rafe informs you that everyone else is gone, so it’s just you two.

“should we watch a movie?” rafe asks, gesturing towards the couch in the living room.

“sure! you pick though.” you say, not wanting to have to make the choice. rafe sits down on the couch and picks up the remote, navigating to some comedy you haven’t seen before. you sit down next to him, close enough for your thighs to be touching.

rafe wraps his arm around your shoulder, letting you get comfortable against his side.

the movie is decently funny, but you’re far more focus on being tucked up against rafe. at a funny scene, rafe lets his laughter loose, and you can’t help but turn and look to him, watching his face light up.

rafe notices you watching him and his laughter softens into a smile. “can i kiss you?” he asks.

you nod, turning to face him as rafe places a hand on your cheek, bringing your mouths together in a kiss that quickly turns more passionate as you deepen it. you shift again so that you straddle rafes lap, placing your hands on his shoulders as you continue to kiss, your dress pooling on his lap.

“y/n-” rafe gasps when he pulls away, realizing both of you went a little overboard when your lips first touched.

“i have to tell you something rafe.” you say, realizing the compromising position you’re in and not wanting to give him the wrong idea.

“what is it baby?” rafe questions, his hands falling to rest on your hips.

“i’m… i’m a virgin.” you admit.

rafe lets out a sigh, like he’s relieved, which causes your brows to scrunch together in confusion. “i never thought i’d say this to you but i am too.”

“what?” you question. “i thought you were known for partying and flirting and stuff!” “yeah, i used to flirt a lot but i was never serious enough with anyone to sleep with them… not until you.” “oh my god.” you coo, leaning forward to press your lips together again. rafe wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your chests closer together.

“i would lose it with you, baby. if you want.” rafe says.

“i-yes. i want that.” you nod.

“tonight? now? only if you’re sure.” rafe says. “i know we’ve only gone on one date, but it feels… right.”

“i agree.” you nod. “i’m not saying we are going to be together forever based off one date but i want to lose it with you. together.”

“let me take you upstairs then.” rafe stands effortlessly, with you clinging to his front as his arms hold you steady. you press soft kisses to his neck as he carries you, feeling equal parts nervous and excited for what is about to happen.

rafe sets you down on the end of his bed before stepping back, admiring you in his bedroom, especially knowing what you are about to do together.

“can i take your dress off?” rafe asks, and you nod, letting him come up and grab the bottom of your dress. you lift your hips so he can pull it up and over your head, and you let out a silent thanks to god that you wore matching underwear.

“you’re so gorgeous.” rafe says, looking down at you with glossed over eyes. you can tell from the tightness of his pants that he’s not unaffected by seeing you like this.

“sit down, let me take your shirt off.” you tell rafe, grabbing his hand so he sits next to you on the bed. you tug his shirt off, admiring his muscles as you run your hands over them. rafes hands stay on his knees, waiting for permission to touch you now that you’re scantily dressed.

“do you… do you want to take your pants off?” you ask, glancing down at his crotch. “it seems painful.” you giggle.

“yeah, the zipper hurts.” rafe admits, unzipping his pants and pulling them down his legs so he’s in just his underwear, his cock straining against the fabric, a small patch of wetness already growing.

“do you wanna lay down? i want to kiss you some more.” rafe asks.

you nod, moving up the bed until you can rest your head against the pillows. rafe crawls over your body, his eyes mesmerizing every inch of bare skin until he can press his lips against yours, the kiss is passionate but slow and deliberate, building up gradually until you’re moaning against rafes lips.

you reach behind your back, unclipping your bra before taking it off, flinging it somewhere in the room to be picked up later. rafe gives you a final kiss before looking down at your bare chest.

“oh fuck.” he groans, reaching with one hand to grip the underside of your breast, holding it in his palm as he slides down, his mouth falling open onto your nipple. you let out a moan as rafe explores your chest and what makes you moan the loudest.

he plays with your nipple with his tongue, then teases around it before ultimately sucking it into his mouth before switching and repeating on the other side.

“is that good?” rafe asks, and you give an enthusiastic nod. “really good.” “should i…” rafe looks down at your underwear, and you give another nod.

“you’re going to have to um… finger me. to open me up for you, ya know?” you cringe at your words, but you know it’s true and don’t want your first time to hurt.

“yeah, yeah of course.” rafe tugs at your underwear, his eyes staying between your thighs as he tosses the fabric to the floor. you take a deep breath before spreading your legs, putting your cunt on display for him.

“so sexy.” rafe praises you, moving so he’s lying between your thighs. he spreads your folds open with two fingers before using his other hand to rub his pointer finger over your pussy.

he traces around your clit before bumping it, making you flinch at the sudden pleasure.

“was that good?” rafe asks, and you just let out a moan in response when he doesn’t wait, rubbing over your clit again.

rafe smiles, moving his finger lower to your entrance before circling around that as well. he presses against your tight ring of muscle, thankful that you’re already quite wet as you relax and give way, letting his finger slip inside.

he begins to thrust it in and out slowly, building up speed as it becomes easier for him to move.

“try to add a second.” you tell him after a minute.

rafe nods, managing to work a second finger inside of you, but he can tell by the way your forehead scrunches that it’s not as comfortable as one, so he leans forward and presses his tongue against your clit.

“oh fuck!” you scream out as he flicks the tip of his tongue over and over, allowing you to focus on that instead of his fingers thrusting in and out of you.

rafe even makes a point to separate his fingers some, widening them to open you up even more. you don’t even flinch this time as his tongue stays playing with your clit.

“i’m ready.” you pant. “i’m ready, i need you rafe.”

rafe nods, moving to kneel between your legs, not sure what the best position to put you in is, but you seem to have it already thought out as you take a pillow and put it under your hips to raise them so he can stay kneeling on the bed.

rafe works his underwear off, and your eyes widen when his cock is revealed, regretting telling him you were ready after just two fingers. he grabs the condom he must have tossed onto the bed earlier and rips it open, sliding the latex down his length.

“if you need more time…” rafe trails off.

“just go slow.” you say, knowing he will stop at any point if you really need him to.

rafe moves closer, holding himself in his hand as he lines up with your entrance. his head pushes in easily, but the further forward his hips move, the more you struggle, but rafe sees it and slows down until he’s finally fully seated inside of you.

something sparks in that moment, realizing that you have both lost your virginity and it has rafe bending down over your body to press your lips together. you appreciate the kiss as it gives you even longer to adjust before rafe starts rocking into you slowly.

“that feels good.” you reassure rafe, all feelings of pain now gone.

“you feel good.” rafe says, unsure how he’s able to keep so much control over himself to not go feral in this moment, but he likes you too much, cares too much to move any faster and potentially cause you pain.

he keeps up the slow movements, moving from just rocking to actually thrusting as he starts to pull further out.

“faster.” you whimper, eyes sliding closed as you focus on his length inside of you.

rafe doesn’t question you, needing to move more himself as he begins to speed up his thrusts, pushing his hips forward harder as well.

“i-i’m sorry i don’t know much longer i’m going to last.” rafe admits.

“it’s okay just touch my clit again.” you say. you would do it yourself but your body feels weightless right now, and you’re not sure if you can raise your arms up.

rafe nods, gripping your hip with one hand but letting the other roam to your cunt, rubbing his thumb over your clit as he tries to hold back his orgasm as long as possible while still pushing his cock into your heat repeatedly.

you let out your moans with freedom, knowing that there is no one else in the house to hear you. rafe begins to grunt and you feel him swelling inside of you and you know that he’s close.

rafes body falls forward, his thumb still moving on your clit but his cock stilling as he cums, filling up the condom as he pants heavily.

“y/n!” rafe finishes with a call of your name. you are so close to your orgasm, and you surmise rafe must know as he stays inside of you, rubbing faster until you cum, your body arching off the mattress, even underneath rafes weight as your high hits you with a shout.

you manage to reach to push rafes hand away, needing the overwhelming pleasure on your clit gone as your orgasm works through your body.

rafe curses when your cunt pulsates around him, but waits until you’re done to pull out. he flops to the side, pulling the condom off and tossing it into the trashcan next to his nightstand.

“how does it feel to no longer be a virgin?” you ask.

“felt good to finally use that condom i’ve been keeping in my wallet since i turned 16.” rafe laughs, reaching his arm out to pull you closer to him. “but seriously, i’m glad i lost it with you.” “i’m glad too.” you smile, pressing a quick peck to his lip. “and maybe i should have asked you this before we had sex but… will you be my girlfriend?”

“oh my god, yes!” you squeal.

#rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron drabble #rafe x reader

774 notes · View notes

midmourn · 4 months

Text

stupid in love

♡ huh yunjin ﹒ gender neutral!idol!reader, kinda implied lsf 6th member!reader genre fluff, a tiny bit of angst/slice of life warnings secret relationship, i never explicitly mention fem reader but it is slightly implied with the 6th reader + implied homophobia, several taylor swift references and one very very vague beabadoobee reference lol note if you’re new here, i dont (normally) write for lsf but ive been waiting for this song to come out and it finally did so here this is very self indulgent lol. takes place in an alternate universe where there was a kcon in france for kcon europe 🤷‍♀️ also no i didnt look up time differences in korea and france ( library )

“Wow, this place is even more beautiful in person,” you hum, latching onto Yunjin’s free hand with your own that wasn’t preoccupied holding your small backpack. It was night time in Paris, France, by the time you and the other girls arrived. The next day would be Kcon, which you were excited to see the other idol groups perform, even a few of your favorites were there.

The black haired girl couldn’t help but smile at the content look on your face, trying her hardest to resist the urge to squeeze your cheeks and kiss you senseless. She was well aware of the cameras focused on the two of you, and forced herself to subtly slide her hand out of yours. It seemed the media never stopped working, either.

Glancing at her, you ignore her action before following behind Chaewon as she begins to lead the rest of you to the company car. As usual, the two of you pile in the car last, lagging behind for the other girls to get in before you. Chaewon sits in the passenger seat while Eunchae and your manager sit in the front row and Sakura and Kazuha in the middle row.

As the car begins to roll forward, your head leans on her shoulder as Eunchae began filming a video on a camera for the experience. Yunjin doesn’t pay the camera any mind, knowing everything but Eunchae would be blurred out in the final cut, and you two probably weren’t even in the shot, anyway. In the privacy of the car with the members, she intertwines her fingers with yours, laying them in your lap. Her head turns, lips brushing against the inside of your wrist where the tattoo of the moon was before she leans her head back on yours. Her free hand feels the smoothness of her own wrist where her sun tattoo was.

With you falling asleep on her, she was able to put in her earbuds and put her playlist on shuffle. One of her favorites, Paper Rings, started to play and she smiled slightly but genuinely, immediately being reminded of you— and the dream she had of you last night.

Normally, she could never remember her dreams but this one, she immediately wrote it down when she woke up. Maybe it was a vision, or a version of you and her in another universe, she didn’t know. But she remembered the feeling of nervousness and anticipation as she kneeled down in front of you, the ecstasy when you said yes, and the comfort and love she felt for you for the rest of your lives.

While the dream did make her want to kick her feet and giggle like a kid, it made her die a little inside because she knew she’d never be able to have that with you. Not when the world was the way it was. Neither of you would ever have a career again, you wouldn��t be able to do the things you loved like you were doing right now. And yeah, she loved performing and singing, she loved the fans, she loved the girls, her life couldn’t be more perfect— but she was pretty sure she loved you more than anything else.

It got her thinking as she got ready for the flight to France, that maybe she could indulge in her dreams a bit, even if it was just nonsense talking. She just wants to know that you feel the same way, too. That you’re in this for the long run, just like her.

The thought remains in her head for the rest of the ride to the hotel, dodging fans waiting in the front of the hotel as you head in through the back. Like usual, you and Yunjin are roommates. Taking the key card with a smile, the other girls watch you two rush off with childish giggles leaving your mouths.

It’s not until the two of you are laying in the queen sized bed that she brings it up. She’s playing with a strand of your hair, trying to focus on you as you ramble on about all the things you want to do while in Paris. She knows she should focus, but all she can think about is her dream and that damn Taylor song. Goddamn Taylor and her musical ability.

“Jen,” your soft touch to her jaw makes her eyes snap towards yours, and she goes to hold it, keeping your hand there. “What’s wrong? You’ve been distant all day.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she shakes her head, shuffling closer to you as one of your legs intertwined with hers. “Just been thinking.”

“About?” You playfully press, raising brows like you knew the answer already. She wouldn’t be surprised if you did.

Yunjin laughs, “About a thing or two.” She presses a clumsy kiss to what she hoped were your lips in the dark, but manages to miss and kiss your chin. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you murmur, eyes glancing down at her lips, “A kiss is a kiss.”

A comfortable silence follows, just staring at each other before she speaks up, “I had a dream last night. An epiphany, if you will.” She slide glances at you, “Eureka!” The two of you burst into giggles, before she sobers up quickly, continuing her train of thought before she lost the confidence, “And it was a really, really good dream. It’s like my number one wish.”

You smile, “Yeah? What happened? Did you do a collab with Taylor Swift? I had a dream like that once.”

“We got married,” she quickly rushes out before she can talk herself out of it. Your silence makes her heart ache, but what did she really expect?

“What was the wedding like?” Whatever she expected you to say— was not that.

Her mouth opens and closes at your question, feeling her heart warm at the expectant, loving look on your face. You didn’t shy away from her, or close off, like she expected. It was like you wanted it, too. She smiles shyly, tracing shapes on the back of your hand, “Good music. We looked really good. We danced to Lover,” she laughs, and you did, too. “All of our friends were there. Family, too. Lots of flowers, pastel colors. I cry during my vows. You cry, too. Just a bunch of snot and tears. I loved it.”

“So do I,” you whisper, eyes seemingly glistening in the dark.

Yunjin’s eyes search yours for something, and when she finds it, she says without hesitation, “Let’s get married in Vegas.”

You smile a mixture of bashfulness and sadness, “I wish.”

“We don’t really need anyone else,” she murmurs, scooting closer to you, your noses almost touching now. “No guest list. Just you and me.”

“Whose last name would we take?” You whisper quietly, closing your eyes to imagine it.

She keeps her eyes open, staring straight at you unwaveringly, “Anyone’s. I don’t care, we can keep our last names, or combine, just as long as you’re mine and I’m yours.”

“I’m yours and you’re mine with or without a piece of paper, baby,” you smile, opening your eyes back open to fiddle with her necklace.

Yunjin’s smile grows bigger as yours does, both of you leaning in at the same time to press your lips together in a soft but meaningful kiss. You linger a second after you pull back, scattering small kisses over her face and making her laugh slightly.

“I think Chaewon would kill us if we even tried to elope,” you pull back, laughing at the memory of the leader yelling. “Like she did when we got those matching tattoos without telling anyone last year.” God, the tweets about the tattoos were hilarious. “But it’s a fun thought.”

“I’ll save it for our Pinterest board,” Yunjin grins when your eyes dart to hers in a bit of shock. She laughs, “What?”

“You have a Pinterest board for us?” Your voice is soft as you ask, finding it endearing. She sheepishly nods, and you laugh softly, pressing a kiss to her nose, “Cute. I wanna see.”

She’s hesitant to agree, but with quick thinking on her feet, she manages to grab your attention with, “Wait, after I make you a ring out of paper.” She sits up, hastily pulling her bag over to her for a piece of paper. She seems to serious and into her task that it makes you giggle a bit, making her brows relax as she glances up away from her bag. “What? I know it’s not an actual ring, but—”

You cut her off by curling your fingers around the collar of her shirt, pulling her down to you with a large “umph!” leaving her mouth as she crashes down into your body. She goes to push herself up but you grab her face, pulling her lips to yours and she easily stops, leaning all of her weight on you and deepening the kiss. Your hand trails to the back of her head, smoothing it down until your finger wraps a strand of her hair around your finger. You pull back, a string of saliva connecting you to her like an invisible red string of fate.

You grin, swiping the string away with a finger, “I’m so stupid in love with you, Jennifer. You’d be the crazy one to think I’d say no.”

“Everyone thinks you’re the crazy one, actually,” she murmurs, shaking her head lightly before pulling you in for another kiss. “Guess we’re the perfect pair, huh?”

#kflixnet #k films #k labels #le sserafim #huh yunjin #jennifer huh #yunjin #le sserafim imagines #le sserafim scenarios #le sserafim fluff #kpop girl group #kpop girl group imagines #huh yunjin imagines #huh yunjin scenarios

207 notes · View notes

sturnsbaby · 6 months

Text

CANDY ... CHRIS STURNIOLO

Based off the song 'Candy' by Doja Cat

IN WHICH chris and a toxic girl are daiting, but he later realizes that your way better.

tw: cussing, angst, fluff, suggestive, chris being stupid

You always knew that Chris and Allie weren't a good couple. She continuously cheated on him but every time you or anyone else tried to tell him, he would always come up with a fake excuse.

But you also knew that you had feelings for chris. They way he looks at you when your talking, how he is gentle with you, basically everything about him you loved.

Allie was nothing anybody would appreciate. She was rude, disrespectful, and a cheater.m, but she would always try and cover it up with the fake smile she gives people, and the fake positive attitude she gives Chris' brothers.

And it pissed you off. You noticed all the times she gave you a dirty look when you were talking, you noticed how she rolled her eyes when chris was talking to you.

"She's just like candy, she's so sweet, but know that it ain't real."

But you noticed in the past week that the couple has been more distance, chris would avoid sitting next to her, and talking to her, and she seemed upset to.

So you now were going up into chris' room to see whats up with the two of them.

"chris?" you ask softly, knocking on the door whike you wait for a response.

"yeah? come in." he says, his voice sounding lower the usual.

"are you and Allie okay? The two of you have been... Acting strage." you ask, and you notice chris' eyes slightly widen as you ask him that.

"we're fine. Why do you care so much? Don't you hate her?" he quickly defends.

"chris what? Im simply just worried for you two and you give me a attitude? What part do you not understand about 'she's not a good girlfriend'?" you snap back, letting out a scoff.

"your such a fucking liar! She's a good girlfriend. Who cares if she cheated on me? She didn't mean to!" he argues, his voice also getting louder.

"You sound so stupid right now. She cheated on you multiple times! She's obviously doing it on purpose." you roll your eyes at him as you leave his room, not giving him any time to respond.

Not only were you mad, you were sad. You never expected to get yelled at by your best friend like that, and it hurts knowing that he isn't even listening to anything your saying.

"Baby i got everything and so much more then she's got."

You quickly grab your car keys and run outside into your car and sit there for a moment, thinking about what you said to him and what he said to you, genuinely you felt slightly bad but he wasn't gonna listen anyways.

THE NEXT DAY

--------------------------------------------------------

chris: hey, can u come back over? Your right about her.

you: i know im right. And no, im not coming over.

chris: your better then her.

you: im omw .

chris: okay ma.

____________________________________________

"So.. you finally realized?" you ask him, walking into his room.

"ive been realized, but yesterday, you just made me gain way more feelings for you then i already had." he replies and grabs your hands and you sit on the bed next to him.

"you owe me an apology, chris." you say, looking him in his eyes.

"right, i know. Im sorry for everything i said yesturday, i didnt mean any of it." he says, the words he said and how he said them sounded genuine.

"it's okay." you reply.

the two of you are left in a couple moments of silence before chris pulls you closer to him.

"is it bad i really want to kiss you?" he asks.

"is it bad i also want to kiss you?" you ask him.

He doesn't respond to you, he just places his lips on yours and puts his hands on your waist and the kiss continues.

"your so perfect, mama." he says when the kiss stops.

I kinda hate this! But its okay

280 notes · View notes

joemothersfavoritechild · 7 months

Text

“across the street” pt. 2

-3k-ish words

-mike schmidt x fem!reader

-no trauma au

an: thanks for all the love on my last post!! i took some inspiration from a few joel miller fics for this one. also, referring to the ending, gotta let it marinate or sum. and if you get the orange reference, marry me.

summary: you have a late night phone call with yk who, and build furniture in the morning.

part one is here!

————————————————————————————

You plopped down in your chair, sighing while rubbing hand sanitizer over your hands. Your shift had been busy as hell, this being the first break you had all day, and it was only halfway over. You wiped your now clean hands over your eyes, trying to rub the tired soreness out of them. At least the pay is good, you thought.

Your coworker calling your name pulled you away from your thoughts.

“25 wants you again.” They said.

“Why me?” You whined.

“I don’t know, I think she prefers women.” They answered your rhetorical, giving you a sympathetic smile.

“Fuck me, I’m going to have to take my lunch after this. I’m never working another Sunday.” You said, standing up on your practically creaking legs.

This was how the rest of your afternoon went, running in all directions like a chicken with its head cut off. “23 wants an ice cream,” “25 pulled out her IV again,” “Call security on 26, he’s trying to leave.” It was an absolute shit show, you hardly had a chance to see the time on your phone, let alone check for a text that you were desperate to receive.

Your drive home was quiet, soft music playing to hopefully decompress you. It always seemed to help. You pulled into your driveway, noticing the lights on at a certain someone’s house across the street, his old Accord telling you that he was home. You turned your car off, trying to stop looking at it from your rearview.

Walking into your house wasn’t as satisfying as you’d hoped, boxes still covering the floor. You took your shoes off as you set your work bag on the ground. You looked at your bed frame again in the dark, not bothering to turn a light on. Was a day too early to expect a message? Was that considered desperate? Probably, you thought. But fuck, you were so desperate. He checked all the boxes,

cute? : check

siblings? : check

caring? : check

a little mean? : check

dorky as hell? : check

abandonment issues? : probably check!

You forced yourself to pull your eyes off the box. As the saying goes, a watched fish doesn’t get caught.

That’s not right, you think. Your tired brain can’t decipher what you were trying to go for, but you knew it would’ve worked.

Anyways, constantly thinking about someone texting you doesn’t help anything. You plugged your phone into the charger near the couch, purposefully ignoring staring at it for too long.

Your eyes fell back to the boxes surrounding you. You passed them all, going straight to your bathroom to shower.

The shower was the right call, you decided. Scorching water loosened your muscles and kept your mind in the present. Washing the outside world off your skin was the highlight of your day.

You got out of the shower, eventually. The warm water didn’t last as long as you had hoped, though it did try. Your nearly hour-long shower would overwhelm any water heater on the market. You quickly dried yourself off, taking the time to brush your teeth and apply your skincare before wrapping your towel around yourself and stepping into your bedroom. You threw on some pajamas from your suitcase that moved with you; pajama pants and an old shirt.

You balled up your work clothes into your towel and put them all in the laundry basket in the corner of your room, already beginning to overflow. You reminded yourself to start the laundry sometime tomorrow as you walked back to your temporary bed, the large green couch in your living room.

You pulled back the covers on the couch, piling into it. You had completely decked it out; two blankets, a comforter, two pillows (one for your head, one for between your legs), and the fan dialed up. You closed your eyes, listening to the white noise of the fan above you.

You were interrupted by the shrill noise of your phone ringing behind you. You groaned, folding your blankets over so you could get off the couch and walk to the charger. You ripped your phone off the charger, taking it with you as you laid back into your bed. You re-adjusted your blankets before pulling the phone under your ear and swiping to accept the call.

“Hello?” You said groggily.

“Hey.” A voice responded. It took you a moment, but eventually, you recognized it. You were suddenly awake with nervousness.

“Hey, Mike.”

“Hi. Um, I texted you,” He said, sounding more like a question than a comment. “A few times, not a big deal. I just wanted to make sure you were alive.” He joked.

You paused, trying to quickly check your messages.

“You there?” He asked.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m here. Sorry, I’ve been working all day. It was super busy, so I didn’t have time to check my phone, and when I got home all I was thinking about was sleep.” You described.

“No need to be sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You’re okay?”

“I’m okay.” You responded.

“Good, good,” He pauses. “So, um, how was your day?”

“Pretty shitty.” You summarize, hearing him laugh in the background.

“Tell me about it.”

So, you did. You proceeded to tell him all the gritty details about your job. What your coworkers are like, the patients that you had to deal with, the frequent fliers, all of it. He asked a lot of questions, making you feel more comfortable rambling on to him.

“What’d you have for lunch?” He asked.

“I had leftover wingstop, I barely have any food at the house.”

“What’s your order?”

“Eight-piece boneless, classic hot. With fries, ranch, and a huge coke. It was amazing,” You said, practically salivating remembering it. “What about you and Abs?” You asked.

“It was very fancy, I don’t know if you’re prepared to hear me talk about it, you might be jealous,” He said sarcastically. “I made cheese quesadillas.”

You laughed a little too long at that, surprised. He was funny, another check.

You talked on the phone for a while, so long that you were talking about the most boring stuff. Like how Abby was a picky eater, and it annoyed Mike because all he wanted to do was eat a good burger now and again. It was sickly sweet and felt like being a teenager again. Whispering as to not wake your parents up, hoping that they wouldn’t catch you up past your bedtime.

You’re not sure when it happened, but you fell asleep on the phone. Mike was talking about something, maybe about the tv show he had been watching. You’re not exactly positive, but you know that you passed out cold.

Your eyes fluttered open, the phone still pressed up against your cheek, warm from the contact. You blinked rapidly, trying to keep your dream in your mind. You had to think hard, as it was delicate. If you let it go, you’d never remember what it was.

It was a good dream, as most of yours tended to be. You didn’t remember a lot, only pieces of it. But you knew Mike was there. You knew that he had led you to your bed, pulling you under the covers with him. You talked, cuddling close to him. God, it had felt so real. You could practically see the lines under his eyes and the pores on his nose. You smiled, but this felt a little creepy at this point. Borderline delusional, your mind added. You barely knew him and you were already dreaming about him.

You grabbed the phone from under your face, groaning as it got unstuck from your skin. Thankfully, it wasn’t dead. You unlocked it, taking the opportunity to look at the texts that you had gotten the night before.

Yesterday, 12:36 pm: hey, this is mike. i’ll need you on the weekends from 8 am-4 pm. and idc that you said not to pay you, i’m building your bed too.

Yesterday, 2:49 pm: you okay?

Yesterday, 5:03 pm: not to be creepy, but i think i’m going to call you. you’re worrying me a little lol

Today, 1:45 am: i think you fell asleep, i’ll talk to you in the morning :)

You smiled, making a contact for him. “mike <3” was now typing. Three little dots popped up on your screen and you quickly swiped out in nervousness. You opened it again when you got a notification.

Today, 10:23 am: i dropped abby off for school and slept in a little, is it okay if i come over to build that bed frame for you?

You smiled again, quickly replying to make up for last night.

Today, 10:24 am: yeah, ofc. give me a few minutes to wake up lol, i need to brush my teeth and clean up for a second.

He replied immediately.

Today, 10:24 am: lmk when you’re ready

You willed yourself to stop smiling, god it had been too long. You hardly knew how to act with a potential date.

“Oh, god.” You muttered to yourself, realizing you had to talk to him. Why did you have to talk to a man to get a boyfriend? Why couldn’t it just happen telepathically?

You sighed, rolling off the couch. You plugged your phone back into the charger, making your way to the bathroom. You completed your morning routine and ran to your bedroom to pick something out to wear for the day. You decided to go for casual, grey sweatpants and a green hoodie. Didn’t want to seem too desperate. You pulled your socks up your feet, laughing at yourself.

You grabbed a quick breakfast from your kitchen, consisting of leftover cookies and a slice of cold pizza. You tried your best to tidy your place up, moving boxes to the corner of the living room. Running down the hallway to your bedroom with your boxed bed frame in hand, you placed it on the floor, taking the other boxes and moving them to the hallway. You scrubbed your toilet and sink, turning on the air fresheners you had placed around the house.

You washed your hands, drying them before returning to the living room. You texted Mike, letting him know that you were ready. He liked the text message, and in less than two minutes he was knocking on your door.

You eyed the door at the noise. Jesus, he was not playing around. You took another deep breath, opening the door to see him standing there with a small smile. He went for casual too, you noted. He wore a black t-shirt and a pair of grey sweats. He held a bag, which you assumed was full of tools.

You smiled at him as a greeting and opened the door wider to allow him to walk into your house.

“Hey.” He said as you walked past you.

“Hi, thanks for coming so quickly.” You responded. “You didn’t have to, the payment feels premature.” You joked, shutting the front door. He looked a you for a second while taking his shoes off at the entryway.

“Shut up, you can’t sleep on the couch for a week”

“I totally can.” You bite back.

“You won’t, where’s your bedroom?” He finished, looking at you again.

You were shocked into silence, feeling your cheeks warm up. The comment made your head spin. Fuck, could he tell that you liked that?

You said nothing, ignoring his little smirk as you walked him to your bedroom. He followed behind you, dropping the bag on the floor with a small thump.

“Do you need any help or something?” You asked finally, breaking the tense silence.

“No, I’m good. I’ve done a lot of stuff like this,” He answered, shrugging. “You could put on some background music?” He suggested.

“That, I can do.”

You nodded, pulling your phone out of your pocket. You hesitated, before choosing a slower playlist of yours. Something calm, that you didn’t have to focus on. He nodded in enjoyment, then began to open the box that held your bed frame. He spilled the contents onto the floor, then kneeled on the ground. He started pulling stuff out of his bag. You guessed correctly, it was full of tools.

You just watched, sitting down against the wall of your room. It was attractive, him expertly putting your bed frame together. He was good with his hands, you wondered what else he was good at. He looked at you after a moment.

“You just gonna watch?”

“If that’s okay.” You shrugged, he nodded at your sort of question. He tried to hide his smile.

He was going to town, drilling, piecing parts together, all while completely ignoring the instructions. He didn’t need them.

After a while, you could tell he was getting hot. His black shirt was sticking to his skin. You hated to admit that it did something to you. You felt a warmth settle in your stomach and tried your best to will it away. Your eyes settled on his back, looking up to his neck when he turned towards you.

“Why’re looking at me like that?” He asked, eyes narrowed out of curiosity.

You made eye contact with him like a deer in headlights. Smiling at you, he laughed a little. Your words were stuck in your throat, embarrassed about being caught.

“Um, do you want some water?” You settled on.

“Sure.” He answered, chuckling at your suddenly shy demeanor.

You stood up off the floor and walked out of your room, closing the door behind you. What the fuck was that? You scolded yourself, internally. Now he was going to think that you were a horny weirdo. I mean, you were, but he didn’t need to know that yet.

You shook your head at yourself as you poured him a glass. This was ridiculous, you needed to chill out.

You came back into the bedroom and handed him the glass. He took it from you gratefully, fingers brushing over yours as he grabbed it. Telling you a small “thank you,” he brought the glass to his lips and began to drink greedily. You watched him as he downed the glass, some dripping down his chin.

When he was finished, he wiped a hand over his stubble. He looked over to you, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. He held the glass out to you and you took it, quickly walking out of the room.

You placed the glass in the sink, blinking to try and bring yourself back to life. How did someone make drinking water look so good? How was that even possible? And god, the look he gave you.

You needed to get it together before you blew it. Talk to him, say something, anything other than just fucking staring at him.

You walked back into the room with a mission, you were going to talk to him. Taking your spot on the floor, you cleared your throat.

“So, what’s your favorite food?” You decided on.

He barely paused before answering, “Definitely pasta, like a good chicken alfredo.”

“Shit, that’s a good answer. I’m really into sushi right now. Can’t afford it, but into it.” You said, smiling at his willingness to answer.

The stupid questions continued for a few minutes. The two of you got to know the smallest details of your likes and dislikes. Turns out, Mike can’t stand the color yellow but loves orange. He’s not much of a drinker, mainly because he can’t afford it, but he does occasionally smoke weed. He’s a cat person but would get a dog if Abby asked for one. It killed you when he talked about his sister because it was so obvious how much he loved her.

Eventually, he finished your bed frame. The gentleman that he is forced him to carry your mattress in from the laundry room, helping you set that up too. Mike may have been on the shorter side, but he was strong as hell. The two of you put on your sheets, blankets, pillows, and finally your comforter. It was almost too domestic, too real.

When you were finished, you didn’t want him to leave. You think he felt the same. This was confirmed when he saw the tv sitting in your closet.

“Do you want me to mount that for you?” He asked.

I want you to mount me, you fought against saying.

“That would be great.” You agreed.

Mike probably spent three hours helping you put your bedroom together, setting up shelves, arranging your cabinets, and helping you put your pictures and posters up while you talked his ear off.

Even though you told him a million times that he didn’t need to, he hung your clothes up in your closet while you folded the rest to go in your new dresser. Finally, your room was fully decorated and unpacked.

He rubbed his hands together, settling on the end of your bed. You sat next to him.

“Thank you, seriously. I was dreading doing all of that by myself.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He said.

You both looked at each other for a second too long, the tension between the two of you becoming thick. You took breaks from looking at his eyes by moving down to his lips. You took a deep breath, noticing him moving closer to you.

He hesitated, pushing a stray hair behind your ear instead. His hand lingered on your face, eventually moving down your arm to put your hand in his. He interlocked your fingers together, pulling it close to him and pressing a soft kiss on your knuckles. He held you there, hand resting on his chin. This was almost more intimate than a kiss, you thought.

“Do you not-” You started, getting interrupted.

“I want to, believe me.”

You looked at him, willing him to continue.

“I don’t want you to think that’s all this is.” He explained, you nodded. You know that this was him being respectful, but it made you want to tear his clothes off even more. Forbidden fruit, if you will.

“Let me take you on a date, tomorrow on my lunch break. I know a place you’d like.” He continued.

“Okay.” You said, smiling.

————————————————————————————

**i do not give anyone permission to use my work as your own, respectfully

this belongs to @joemothersfavoritechild **

271 notes · View notes

bloodsadx · 5 days

Text

even the years that i retroactively have viewed as the most useless of my life have paid off. ive met and befriended many of my heroes from when i was down bad and doing nothing. however in spite of this any time im down im still like. well. i guess im going to jump into the fargo life size human mulcher and deboner (in order to become less full of blood). anyway every time im in an uber with my buddy anne she says the word transexual minimum like 6 times no matter what the vibe of the driver is and last night the uber driver told us to try the following pick up lines (which he called “jaw droppers”): when a girl asks your favorite food, say that “[you] don’t care about stuff like that, [you] want to get to know the flavor of [her] taste buds.” he insisted she’s never heard some shit like this before, so she’ll either like it and you’ll start making out, or if she’s “a more polite woman” she will be like ok ok, and at that point you say “i’m not trying to nourish your body, i’m trying to enrich your soul.” he said that you say that, this being the “jaw dropper,” and then you “can shove your tongue down her throat.” well me and my buddy anne were losing our minds in this uber. and then she started saying the word transsexual to refer to her previous partners and the guy became strictly quiet. well anyway. the moral of the post is, if you walk around a lot, you notice more stuff. i’ve been walking about 10-15 miles a day for the past few weeks and something i’ve been noticing a lot is one specific sticker around portland which ive seen i think sincerely about 300 different places in the past week. and i’ve been walking some really not well trodden, very annoying routes, and this guy has been putting stickers up in some really strange and not even particularly visible spots. and the thing is, i kind of don’t even like this guy’s sticker, but i do really like seeing it, so i really respect that guy. and last night i made direct eye contact with a guy as he put down a slice of pizza and took out a paint marker to write on a trash can. me personally if i made direct eye contact with someone as i was about to write on a trash can i would probably not do that.

i’ve been making draft posts like this when i get home from a long walk and then not posting them nearly explicitly because i don’t want a bunch of people to read them. sometimes i let one fly and it does get like a hundred notes and i just get pissed off. a few months ago i got so mad about something i kept hitting the ground with sticks as hard as possible and trying to suplex trees and victorian house porch support beams at my friends houses. not to test my strength but rather to feel completely indignantly impotent and to feel myself fail against the weight of the world. i got into a bad car crash and have been disallowed by the weight of the world from driving endlessly and aimlessly through the country and instead have endlessly and aimlessly wandered by foot through a place i have lived in for 3 years but only recently have come to feel like i have any knowledge of. so its hard to say which years are more useless. the years where i was doing stuff people gave a fuck about or the years where i was doing stuff that hurt my legs and feet and i saw more stuff? well at the end of the day i suppose nobody can say for sure…after all, on the internet, nobody knows i’m a seaman.

#from the mind of the author

57 notes · View notes

melusinealarice · 1 year

Note

Hi can I request something for House, like where the reader is helping take care of him after the episode where he loses the patient that he decided to remove the girls leg (sorry I don't remember the episode number) Anyway basically though the reader and House have been hiding their feelings until after that incident so while she is taking care of him they get together (hints at smut)

My new addiction

Warnings: cursing, mention of medical things, mentions of smut, amputation mention, age gap?? Reader is like 35 and House is like over 45, angst, fluff? Mentions of alcohol and alcoholism, mentions of underage drinking, implied smut

Today sucked, like royally sucked, there was a crane that collapsed so House went to go handle patients on the field. A patient was trapped under rubble and House amputated her leg which resulted in her dying anyways. And House was in a mood, a self-destructive mood. He wouldn’t admit it but he felt bad in his own twisted way. He went home the second you called time of death, well after insulting you and the team for a good few minutes. And the worst part was, he still had no clue what was wrong with the patient. You stayed for about an hour, wrapping up notes on the patient before going home. You tried to go to sleep but you couldn’t, you were worried about House. As twisted and fucked up as it was you had managed to fall for the ass, you tried to hide it and ignore it as best you could but you still cared about him. You got in your car and drove to his apartment, just to check in on him.

You knocked, at least 10 times, “HOUSE! I know you’re in there, its me…” you waited a while, but it looks like he wasnt gonna answer. As you started to turn around the door opened. “You really should give a cripple more time to answer the door ya know.” He said, it was obvious he hadn’t gotten any sleep either. “You could’ve said something.” You stated, he opened the door the rest of the way, motioning for you to come in. You were wearing a tank top and pj pants considering you didnt bother changing, and you didnt have a bra on, something House took immediate notice of. “If you had told me what you were wearing I would’ve been much quicker in answering the door,” he said as you walked in, not bothering to hide the fact he was shamelessly checking you out. “Asshole,” you muttered under your breath as you walked towards the couch. There was a half empty bottle of scotch on the table, he sat down next to you, he smelled like whisky and mint. He poured you a glass and offered you some, “no thanks,” you said waving him off, “what, scared that if you’re inebriated the sexual tension will be to much to handle.” He said before downing the glass. “How much have you had to drink?” You ask, ignoring his previous comment, hoping that he was too drunk to notice how flushed you got. “I lost count,” he said pouring another glass, “well i think thats a good enough indicator you should stop” you said, taking the glass from him. “How about passing out as a stoping indicator?” He said, trying to get the glass back, but you took both the glass and the bottle into the kitchen.

“So who was it?” He said as you sat down across from him as he was now sprawled out along the couch leaving no room for you to sit there. “What?” You asked, “Who in your family was the drunk? Dad, mom? Sibling that went off the rails, creepy Uncle?” He said motioning to nothing in particular. “What makes you think someone in my family was a drunk?” You asked, hiding your distaste for the smell. “Well, you have no alcohol in your apartment, ive never seen you drink, and you clearly hate the smell. And i know its not a religious thing because you don’t believe in any God.” He says, staring at you expectantly. “My boss, he was an egomaniacal drunk who couldn’t cope with loosing a patient so he would go home and drink himself half to death.” You fired back, he just laughed and rolled his eyes. “I can deal with the fact a patient died” “clearly” you scoffed “so, who was it?” He said, not dropping the subject, “you can’t take a hint can you?” You said, “I got the hint you had the hots for me.” He said back bluntly. Shit, “It was me,” you said a desperate attempt to change the subject to ANYTHING else, “I was the drunk, nearly killed myself. I was knocking down shots from 13 to 16. And then I had to get my stomach pumped, I was sick for days, never drank since” you said, turning away, “so you do have the hots for me.” He returned, clearly amused. “I do not.” You said, trying to keep a straight face. “You do, because if you didn’t you would’ve just ignored my comment, instead you deflected because you’re embarrassed, so you decided to answer my previous question.” He says in that voice when he is finds the final piece of the puzzle “Thats why you came to see me, you were worried about me.” “Do you always have to over analyze House?” “Do you always have to deflect y/n?” “Fine, I was worried about you,” you say, knowing he wouldn’t drop the subject “Why?” He says, “you know why…” “I want you to say it.” He said, sitting up. “Because I like you, unfortunately for me.” You returned, turning to face him. You stood up, and so did he, you were now face to face, you could smell the alcohol on his breath, and god it smelled good, you wondered how it would taste. “I dont need coddling you know” he said, “I know,” You started into eachothers’ eyes for what seemed like forever, “I-I should go,” you stammered, “don’t,” he muttered, running his hand along your arm, your breath was getting faster, your chest rising and falling faster, “House..” you whispered, trying to resist the urge to drop everything and let the moment swallow you both. Your eyes flickered to his lips, and you wanted this, you have for so long. Finally you gave in, closing the distance between you and pulling him into a kiss, he did taste good. Your hands snaked around his neck pulling him closer, wanting to feel him pressed up against you. Wanting him to engulf you, and so did he. His hands went to your waist, pulling you closer as your fingers tugged on his hair. “I want you,” you said, and that was all either of you needed in the moment.

The next morning you woke up in his bed, both your clothes littered around the floor. Thank god he was still asleep, you got your things and got out, praying you had time to go home and shower before work.

You were late but House didn’t care, and neither did you.

I hope you liked it, i am currently on a road trip so I’ll probably be writing more, and I am working on your second request

#dr gregory house #dr greg house #greg house #gregory house smut #gregory house x reader #dr house #house md #gregory house #greg house smut

288 notes · View notes

thecommunityoftrustworthysinks · 7 months

Text

AITA for getting back at an ex who broke up with me for one relapse when i thought she was dying?

so, a little background before i get into what exactly happened: this woman i work with (my boss, actually) (great ass) (great tits too) (43f) and i (52m) have been having what you could call "flirt fights" for about ten years. you know, we hate each other, we need each other, we can't stand each other, 'will they won't they' type of thing. also, i used to have a drug problem because i have chronic pain in my leg, but at this point had been clean for a year. a few months back, we finally got together, and it was some of the happiest ive ever been in my life, and she was too. i was willing to put her before my job (something i hadn't done before) and she said she didn't need me to change for her anymore. then she had a cancer scare, and i missed a number of her appointments that she asked me to come to because i was scared of what could happen to her. i needed to go, i know i needed to go. i finally made it to an appointment, and then it turned out she was fine, and i was there with her to tell her that when she woke up. it was a big relief. but the thing was, i had popped a couple pills before going, just to make it easier. i knew i had to be there, and it wasn't working.

so later, my ex showed up at my apartment and told me she realized i had been high, and broke up with me. she said i was an addict, and couldn't take things seriously and fully present, and that it would never change. so that really sucked, and ive been having a shitty time ever since, but trying to be professional and continue on. i figured if she wanted to have our regular relationship back then i'd act like normal. im kind of known for being a bit of a dick on the job, and not a lot of people like me, so i went back to that. but now she kept taking it personally and saying it was from our breakup, yada yada. it went on like that for awhile, i got married to a beautiful russian lady (green card) (i also asked my boss/ex to sign my new wife over to my insurance, it was funny), and then we get to this week.

because of the relapse, i decided to try an experimental drug to try to regrow muscle in my leg. it hadn't been approved* yet but im a doctor so i figured i'd just give it a go anyway. then i learned from the study that the subjects had developed tumors on the muscle and died. i ran a ct scan on myself, and saw the tumors. i don't trust surgeons around muscle anymore, so i sanitized my bathroom and set up to do the surgery myself in the tub. it was going fine, but eventually the pain did get to me (i got one tumor completely out), so i called a few people, but no one picked up. eventually i had only my ex (and boss) left to call, and she picked up. she came to get me, lectured me about embarrassment or some other emotion she was saying i had, and we went to the hospital. so then yesterday she was insisting that we talk about things, as if my home surgery (that was done by a licensed physician) was because i had unprocessed feelings for her or something. both she and my best friend (45m) have been telling me i need to talk more or express my feelings more. so i listened to them, and i drove my car into the front window of my ex/boss's house. aita?

*in humans

#house md #greg house #lisa cuddy #house x cuddy #aita #hatecrimes md #gregory house #huddy #edited out the copy paste residuals pls reblog again :wails:#i did write this it was just in discord first HDKSHDJD

124 notes · View notes

a-soft-hornytiny · 1 year

Text

Position of power.

Summary: You find out that your childhood friend is now a CEO and demand an explanation.

Word count: 3.1k+

Genre: Smut

Pairing: CEO!Jongho x female!reader

Warnings: unprotected sex, half clothed sex, teasing, penetration, dirty talk, office sex, fingering (female receiving) (let me know if i missed something) be careful while reading.

Notes: this got longer than it was supposed to be and im not complaining. Istg Jongho recently has a grip on me. And tbh ive had this idea ever since I saw him in that one suit. Ill show you what i mean. Like jesus. Anyway this is pretty fluffy at first but beware.

Taglist: after the cut (let me know if you wanna be added)

---------------------------------------

“Wait Choi Jongho?” You nodded, confused by the excitement in your friend's voice. You had shown her a picture of you in highschool but she only had eyes for the boy that was standing next to you on said picture, Jongho, your best friend since first grade that you sadly lost contact with after school.

“THE Choi Jongho??” Your friend was squirming in her seat. You nodded again. Not really understanding what she was pointing at. “Omg Y/n that's such a big deal like how is he in person, is he as strict as he seems?” Your confusion only grew.

“I haven’t seen him for years. He went abroad after school and we rarely ever text each other.” You explained and your friend's excitement immediately died off. “But don’t you want to know what it’s like?” What what’s like? You didn’t even need to ask the confusion was written all over your face.

“Being rich!” You tilted your head. Jongho’s family was well off but you wouldn’t go as far as calling him rich. And that’s when you saw something change in your friend's face. They realized something. While you were still trying to grasp what was happening, they shoved their phone under your nose.

Perpexled you started to read. Choi Jongho, 23, CEO. Choi’s company, Choi Internationals, set a milestone in economic history as it became one of the most profitable corporations in its field only 4 months after it was brought to life.

You stopped and started reading again. No that can’t be.

“You didn’t know?” You looked up from their phone and shook your head slowly. How on earth did you not know about this? How could that information possibly go over your head? I need to call him you thought immediately before shaking your head again.

You went through your purse to look for your phone. When was the last time we talked? You asked yourself while unlocking your phone and entering your chat. About 4 months ago. 4 months ago you had checked up on each other the last time. That was far after the launch of his company. And he didn’t think that was important enough to tell you?

You started raging. You had told him everything. How you lost your job, how your ex broke up with you, how your parents moved to the countryside, everything. And he didn’t even bother to tell you he successfully launched a company and was making millions? Without thinking about it you sent him a passive-aggressive text.

When did you plan to tell me that you’re a money-shitting ceo?

Ok maybe you should have thought about that one.

Jongho was sitting in the back of his car when he saw your message. He let out a big sigh causing his secretary to send him a worried look. One part of him had wished you would never find out but he was also surprised that you didn’t already know. It was not like it was possible to keep his identity a secret.

“What’s wrong Mr.Choi?” His secretary asked, still keeping his eyes on the road. Jongho sighed again. “Nothing too big. Just a change of plans for today.” He said while typing his response.

Where are you right now?

He didn’t expect an immediate answer but his phone pinged shortly after.

At Sannie’s Dream, why?

Sannie's Dream was the café you two used to go to during highschool days. Jongho couldn’t help but smile. You hadn’t changed a bit.

Stay there.

He answered before informing his secretary about the new plan. The café was about 20 minutes away from where he was right now. He knew that you still lived in the suburb you two used to go to school in, he on the other hand had moved to the city.

What does he mean by “Stay there”? You shook your head while putting your phone down. You had completely forgotten that you weren’t alone.

“I’m so sorry you completely caught me off guard with that.” You told your friend while supporting your head with your hands.

“No worries but what now? What just happened?” They asked the right questions. What did just happen? “I have no idea.” You answered as you turned around to order another coffee.

You got back to chatting but about 20 minutes later the door to the café opened and a well-dressed man entered.

“Jongho?!” You exclaimed, completely shocked, causing the café to go quiet. He came over to your table and shushed you instantly. “We don’t want all that attention.” He whispered as the people around you began to talk again.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You whisper screamed, ignoring that your friend probably had a heart attack right now. “We need to talk, do you mind?” He asked, pointing at the door behind him. And before you even knew it he had paid for your coffee, said goodbye to your friend and had led you outside.

"Jongho, stop!" You said while he opened the door to his car. You didn’t know a thing about cars but this one was expensive. “Can you please just explain what you’re doing?” You asked a bit out of breath. He had never been a man of many words, he was the type to prefer actions over words. But you needed him to tell you what was going on.

“I’ll explain it to you but can you get into the car first? I don’t want people to think that I’m kidnapping you.” He responded calmly. Well it kind of feels like I’m being kidnapped you thought before sitting down. Jongho closed the door and went to the other side to get in.

After he sat down and both of you had put on the seat belt he told the driver to get them to the headquarters. The headquarters? What was he trying to do? “Mister Jung? This is Y/n. Y/n, this is my loyal secretary Mister Jung.” He introduced you and bowed at each other awkwardly. After the car started driving, Jongho started to explain.

“Listen Y/n I never wanted to hide anything from you. I’m honestly a bit surprised that you only found out now. And I didn’t know you would be so angry.” He whispered the last part to himself. You weren’t ‘so angry’. Your disappointment from earlier had mostly disappeared.

“I’m not angry with you, just a bit disappointed that you didn’t tell me something so important. That’s a huge milestone. But don’t you think it's a bit extreme to kidnap me from my friend just to apologize?” You asked, a small smile on your face. He had always been a bit impulsive.

“Really? I mean..” he stopped, taking a second to organize his thoughts. “If I’m honest I just saw the opportunity and took it. I was so glad that you were still treating me like before and not turning into a money hungry demon, that I was too afraid to tell you. But in reality I have been wanting to meet up with you for a while now.”

You were surprised. On one side because of his sudden confession, on the other because of his rosy cheeks. He was embarrassed.

“That’s really.. sweet.” You said, still a bit taken aback.

“I thought I could show you my workplace?” He asked incredibly unsure. What did your friend say about him earlier? Strict? Oh if they could see him right now.

“Are you asking for a date?” You answered, obviously joking. But he nodded. And now you were the one whose face was heating up. He was looking out of the car window, trying to avoid eye contact, when scanned him with your eyes. He was handsome. He always had been, but this suit… you shook your head. Those thoughts were not to be thought.

But he had been thinking the same. When he walked you to his car, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander. You were wearing a knee long mint green summer dress with a low back and golden jewelry. You looked stunning. But even if it was just for one second, he had wondered what you were wearing underneath it.

After a few minutes of awkward silence you decided to break the ice. "So.. how have you been?” You asked, still a bit shy. But he immediately answered, leading to a really relaxed conversation. You talked about everything and anything. From your family, to your work, to what you had for breakfast. God you had missed him.

When the car finally stopped, he got out first to open the door. What a gentleman.

“And this is where our Human Resources Management sits.” He explained as you reached the end of his little company tour. Your mouth was still open. More than ten levels, more than a hundred people, all under his control. The building was really modern, held in a black and white aesthetic with an occasional drop of colour. And it was your favourite colour. But that had to be a coincidence.

“Getting to the best part of the whole building now- my office.” He led you into this huge room. One side of it was completely covered in windows. The other consisted of dark wood. On the window side was his desk, full of paperwork, and in the middle of the room was a big table with about eight chairs. On the darker side of the room was a couch and two armchairs in the same colour.

You walked towards his desk completely overwhelmed by the sight of the city under your feet.

Jongho watched you explore his office in awe as he closed the door behind him. And locked it. He had always liked you more than he should but he thought he wasn’t good enough. You were his biggest inspiration to success. He’d be good enough if he was successful. A big smile appeared on his face as you let out a gasp. You had discovered his personal little library.

When was the time to make a move if not now?

You were taking a look at his books when you heard footsteps behind you. Without any warning you felt his hands on your waist and his warm breath against your ear.

“You’re so cute when you’re excited.” He chuckled. You froze. He was so close. Goosebumps formed all over your body as you realized what position you were in.

“Jongho what are you doing?” You couldn’t even talk properly, the words escaping your mouth were barely a whisper. Small electric shocks shot through your body as his hands slightly brushed against your hips. If you wanted to you could’ve easily stopped him. But the high school girl inside of you was excitedly jumping up and down.

“Something I should’ve done a lot earlier..” he whispered against your neck before placing soft kisses on your shoulder. Shivers ran down your spine. What do I do? You thought, trying to keep your mouth shut. You were way too embarrassed to let out whatever sound was waiting on your tongue.

You had always liked him. Others had always thought you were together but you two were absolutely oblivious to each other’s feelings. And now about five years after graduation, it was finally happening.

And even if it didn’t show, Jongho was nervous. He was basically waiting for you to turn around and slap him. But you didn’t. You stood there, enjoying his lips on your skin. And that was something he could see by your uneven breath and reaction to his hands. He couldn’t believe it at first but you wanted this.

“Do you want me to stop?” He murmured, lips still caressing your shoulder. He needed your full consent before going further. Because if you didn’t say no now, he wasn’t sure if he could hold himself back.

You held your breath. No. Please don’t stop. You knew that there was no going back once you said that. But it was the truth. You wanted him.

“Please don’t stop.” You nearly moaned as his lips brushed a sensitive spot. You could feel his firm body behind you and gosh that suit. Every time he turned around to continue his tour earlier you had stared so much that you were worried the fabric would dissolve under your gaze.

“I always thought you were gorgeous but this dress..” he groaned as his hands caressed your thighs, causing the dress to ride up. “This dress makes me go insane.”

You couldn’t hold back a quiet moan as you imagined him fucking you right then and there. And as if he had read your mind, he turned you around to look at him. His eyes were dark and full of desire as he scanned every single part of your face.

“You know.. your suit isn’t much better.” You chuckled before pressing your lips onto his. You caught him off guard for a second before he intensified the kiss and slowly guided you to his desk. Before you could protest, he had wiped most of his things off his desk and sat you down on it. Your dress was merely covering your panties anymore as you felt one of his hands making its way up your thigh.

“But Jongho..” you whispered as his fingertips brushed against the outside of your underwear. “What about the windows?” The desk was only about two meters away from the window front so if anyone was on the opposite side, they could definitely see you.

“Oh don’t worry darling, they’re reflected.” He smirked as he pulled you in for another kiss. You were surprised by the pet name but you liked it. He made it sound so… sexy. And just as you had forgotten about the position of his fingers, he pushed your panties aside and gently started caressing your heat. You let out a loud but embarrassed moan when you heard the squelching sound his fingers were making.

“So wet already~” He growled into your ear. “Makes me wonder how long you’ve wanted this.” He chuckled before carefully pushing one finger inside your wetness. You hid your burning face on his shoulder.

“Shut up.” You whined, making him smirk. “What did you say?” He teased you while slowly inserting a second finger. “Shut up and fuck me already.” You whined again.

“So that’s what you want huh?” He let his fingers slip out of you and spread the wetness on your clit before starting to massage it gently. You couldn’t hold back your moans anymore as your whole body started to shake. Why was he so good at this?

“Nah nah we don’t want others to hear you, do we?” He jokingly said before kissing you again. You hadn’t even realized he had stopped massaging your clit until you heard the sound of his belt opening. You immediately opened your eyes and separated from him just to watch him open his pants.

The growing bulge underneath had gotten painfully obvious and Jongho let out a deep breath when he finally freed his dick. Your eyes were glued onto his glistening tip as he stroked himself a few times, obviously enjoying your drooling stares. It was big but more importantly, it was girthy.

“So what was that? You want me to ‘fuck you already’?” He asked with a teasing undertone. You nodded, still not able to stop staring. “Your wish is my command.” He groaned as he placed himself at your entrance.

“Are you ready?” He asked, looking into your eyes with a softness that was completely unexpected. You couldn’t help but give him a warm smile. What a gentleman you thought before answering.

“Yes Jongho, I’m ready.” You let out a slight chuckle before you moved your hips forward, pushing his throbbing dick into your warmth.

You both let out a satisfied moan as soon as his length completely disappeared inside of you. It felt incredible. Felt like it was meant to be. Jongho couldn’t even think straight when he started moving his hips. He was holding you in his arms while your hands were clawing into his back.

“God Y/n you feel so good.” He groaned breathlessly as his cock thrusted into you once again. You were seeing stars, you had never felt so much pleasure. Your legs were wrapped around him and he desk was only there to support your body a bit, nothing more, as Jongho was nearly carrying you.

With every thrust, the tip of his dick hit the perfect spot. You had buried your mouth in his clothes but your pathetic moans were still echoing through the room.

“Faster.. please..” you whined against him and he immediately started picking up speed. The way your walls clenched around his length made both of you go crazy. His movements were steady which made you aware of his extreme strength and his even breath against your neck made your mind go blank.

“Make me yours, Jongho.” You moaned. “Make me cum.”

As if he had accepted a challenge, he gently sat you back on his desk to have a free hand. While he was still thrusting into you, his hand started caressing your clit in the same rhythm and you immediately threw your head back. Waves of pleasure washed over you as you laid back. The cold wood on your back made you shiver.

“You’re so beautiful.” Jongho was panting as his thrusts became sloppier. But you couldn’t even properly hear him because you were so immersed in the feeling he was giving you. Your whole body was tense as you felt your orgasm coming.

“Jongho I-“ you whined, not able to finish your sentence . “I’m c-co-“

Your orgasm washed over you with an intensity you never felt before. Your whole body was shaking uncontrollably and your pussy started clenching around his dick. You couldn’t breathe as Jongho continued to thrust into you.

He couldn’t believe his eyes when you came on his dick. To his eyes you looked ethereal. But the way you clenched around him pushed him close. He was about to cum right there.

He wanted to pull out but you stopped him. You could hear a slight protest before he let out the most beautiful lewd moan you ever heard and painted your inside white. You could feel his cum spurt out of his tip, filling you up to the brim. Shortly after, he collapsed on top of you. You took deep breaths while gently stroking his hair.

You giggled. “If I had known this would happen I would have texted you earlier.”

------------------------------------

Tags: @jonghoisbabie @multidreams-and-desires @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers-writes @serialee @crimsonbubble @cometoceantrenches @em--ilysm @deja-vux @kawaiiloli00 @ddeonghwva @aaaaajonghooooo @sansbun @cookies-n-joong @plonys @hijirikaww @nari-nim @yunkiwii @mingi-ivity @racheloveyunho @seongsangsgf @jhmylove @lizsvcks @yunhobabygurl @leoninadecorazones @kerra-that-one-random-fangirl @star1117-archives

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez story #ateez fanfiction #ateez smut #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop x reader #kpop smut #jongho x reader #jongho smut #choi jongho #jongho #female!reader #ceo!jongho

516 notes · View notes

theshippirate22 · 1 year

Text

so i started a fic for this a while ago and it got lost in my wips but then @henderdads posted this and i got right back on my bullshit to finish it! also on ao3 tw: panic attack

November 1985-

Steve had a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel of the Beemer while he stared out at the theater ahead of him.

Just looking at it, just thinking about what he was about to do, made his skin crawl. He felt guilty and dirty and miserable, but he didn’t really have any other choice.

Okay, that was a lie. There were definitely a million other things he could be doing. He really needed to clean his room, he was falling desperately behind on movies Robin said he needed to see, and he was supposed to be writing an essay to help him get into Ohio State. There were tapes to be listened to, people to check on, God, his car needed an oil change.

But here he was, anyway, neglecting all of it.

The dashboard clock switched to 11:35 and his stomach burned. He’d gotten himself so freaked out, he was going to throw up in the gutter and drive home before anything even happened. The only thing that stopped him was the thought of what waited for him. The dark, cold, empty house, his relentless nightmares, and his sleepless night.

11:40. His hands were getting cold against the wheel, but he still didn’t will himself into the warm oasis that was the theater. Not yet. He still had time.

He felt like an addict, lying to his friends and family before relapsing back into heroin. He knew it wasn’t like that, that if they knew, all he’d get was funny looks and maybe a snarky comment directed at his intelligence (or lack thereof), but that didn’t make it any better. He still hated himself.

He’d promised to give this up a long time ago, to abandon the lifestyle entirely. Actually, he had turned into something of a doormat at this point- always driving the kids places and covering any of Robin’s shifts when she bailed and offering his house and money up to whoever took advantage of it- because anything he did that didn’t help somebody else felt selfish. He wasn’t allowed to be selfish anymore. He had to repent for when he was selfish.

11:45. Steve groaned softly and got out of the car, attacked by the cold air as it seemed to soak through his sweatshirt.

Way to put the guilt into guilty pleasure, moron, he thought to himself, pushing through the doors to the theater. His inner monologue was starting to sound more and more condescending.

The teenager at the counter glared up at him through her eyelashes, popping a bubble with her gum decisively, clearly annoyed to be running midnight showings at a shitty theater. He slid a five-dollar bill across the counter to her and took a deep breath before forcing out the words.

“Rocky IV, please.”

She looked at him like he was stupid, and he was about ready to run back to his car and pretend none of this had ever happened. This was just another stupid nightmare to haunt him while he tried to sleep.

She handed him a ticket, the bright red DRAGO VS. BALBOA staring up at him-mocking him really- and passed over his change without saying anything at all.

Okay, that was the hard part. That was the part that made him interact with someone, a live actual person, made him admit his sin out loud, make it real and out there.

As soon as the ticket was in his hand and he was walking to the specified theater, he could breathe again. The guilt still writhed heavily in his stomach, but he could fight down the nausea enough to function. Half his brain, the half that had been in control for a good while now, was screaming at him that this was wrong, he was sick and twisted for wanting this, while the other half kept reminding him softly that it was just a movie. No one had to know about it. It would help him tonight- maybe he could get some sleep when he got home- and then it could disappear forever, and he would never think of it again.

It’s just a movie.

Steve was ten when the original came out. His dad had paid for him and Tommy H. to go one Saturday and God, they loved it. They’d gotten in a playfight in the parking lot waiting for Tommy’s mom to pick them up, mimicking the final match between Rocky and Apollo (Steve was Apollo every time they played; Tommy refused to be anything less than the hero, even if technically he was the loser) and Tommy had accidentally knocked him in the face and made his nose bleed. That might’ve been one of the best days of Steve’s childhood if he thought about it.

Three years later, he and Tommy went back and saw Rocky II the first night it was out, and watching Rocky win lit something in Steve on fire, and he convinced himself he could do anything, like how Rocky could still get up even when Apollo had beat him to shit.

Steve got into his first fistfight that summer. He lost, because he had never actually fought before, and his punches were loose and messy, but he didn’t even care, staring up at Jack Donahue through a black eye, because Rocky lost his first fight against Apollo, but he won the second, so next time Steve would win.

He went to Rocky III on a date in 1982 (still waiting to win that second fight, although now it was really Fight 8 or 9 because he’d gotten his ass kicked a good number of times since Jack Donahue). The girl he was with got bored halfway through the movie, climbed into his lap and convinced him to make out instead, but he kept getting distracted by Clubber Lang, and Apollo’s training advice, and Rocky and Andrian’s big house and their happy family, glancing over her shoulder absently as she trailed her mouth up his neck. There wasn’t a second date with her. He didn’t even remember her name.

He remembered what color dress Adrian wore to the final fight, though.

He hadn’t watched any of them since September of ‘84 when he’d rented all of them and binge-watched them one night, mostly to remind himself that Billy Hargrove was just a watered-down Clubber Lang who came to steal his title and insult his (nonexistent) wife and mess up his life. Rocky beat Clubber Lang. Steve would beat Billy.

Within the next few weeks, however, Billy ended up on the ever-growing list of people who had whipped Steve, his Heavyweight-Champion-Of-the-World belt that manifested itself as King Steve of Hawkins High was stripped from him, and he’d started his proverbial pilgrimage to salvation.

He didn’t get to like Rocky anymore. King Steve liked Rocky. Just Steve didn’t have any reason for that luxury. Rocky was athletic, and mindless, and masculine, everything that everyone hated about King Steve, so Just Steve didn’t get it anymore.

It’s just a fucking movie. He reminded himself. No one has to know.

They had unfinished business anyway, Rocky and him. Maybe it was fate, or some shit that IV should come out like five months after Steve did get his first win against the Russian soldier.

Hey, old friend. I did it. I won. I got back up. I won.

We won, Rocky.

Steve hid in the back of the theater, in the dark, where no one would recognize him. There were only maybe a dozen other people in there anyway, but in the dark, he could relax.

He almost felt safe, even, when the opening montage started. There was something so familiar about it, like returning to the house you lived in as a child, but the same sort of estrangement from time. Watching Rocky best Clubber again, knowing Rocky would win, was such a comfortable thing. God, these movies were so good.

He almost didn’t feel like such an asshole anymore.

Rocky was a dad now, you know. Had been since the second one technically, but only now was the kid old enough to have a personality. Watching him with his son was maybe when the six-nugget thing really solidified for Steve. He wanted that, he wanted the house and the kid and sparring with Apollo-the friend who knew- and Adrian.

God, he wanted someone to love him the way Adrian loved.

She was always just there, in the very best sort of way. As if at any moment, Rocky could look over and she would be there, grinning at him, helping him back up, fixing things. And she would shake her head and laugh at her moronic boxer husband and still sing with him when he started up out of tune and flush when he flirted with her.

The reminder of the slump in Steve’s love life manifested itself as a sort of sad aching in his stomach. He redirected his attention out of his thoughts and back to the movie.

The plot was a little mindless; he’d admit it. It was basically the same premise as the last one: Some Big-Bad-Boxer popping up out of nowhere to whip Rocky’s ass just enough in the first half to build a vague sense of suspense as to whether he was going to win the final fight or not, but the only difference now was that he was sparring against Communism or something as a metaphor for the mini-Red Scare happening.

Steve didn’t mind. He knew enough Russians to be pretty psyched about Stallone wailing on them for a few hours.

It’s Apollo Creed, however, who first takes his place across the ring from Ivan Drago. Steve was fine. He was well aware of the fact that whatever happened during this fight would mean absolutely nothing in comparison to whatever happens at the end, except maybe deciding the intensity of the training montage (That was the other thing; Survivor was doing a bunch of the music, how could Steve miss out on that?)

Apollo put on a show, with dancers and lights and that stupid flag robe he’d had in the first one, so this would be good. Mediocre writing, good entertainment.

“You will lose,” Drago growled.

They danced around each other in the ring. Apollo threw a good number of jabs in the beginning. It felt good. Steve almost smiled.

But something happened when Drago started fighting back. Apollo stumbled against the ropes, dripping sweat; Rocky yelled something. Steve missed it- he could feel his pulse throbbing in his ears, suddenly a little too aware of his clothes and where they clung to him.

Drago kept fighting. He punched and punched, each one landing hard and solid against Apollo, against flesh, in a rapid thunk, thunk, thunk.

Steve’s hands started to shake.

Apollo leaned back against the corner post as the bell rings-end of the first round- looking dazed and far away.

Rocky begged. “I gotta stop you. This fight’s finished.”

Apollo’s answer thudded through Steve’s head. “Promise you won’t stop this fight. You don’t stop this fight.”

Bell. Second round. Apollo looked stoned, tripping over his own feet as he tried to dance. Steve knew the feeling. Then Drago had him in a corner and it won’t stop, fists pounding against him again and again. Sweat flew off Apollo’s head and fell against the mat like rain. He doesn’t go down.

There was so much blood. Steve couldn’t breathe. He felt the adrenaline in his sweaty, trembling hands, but it wasn’t right. It wasn’t movie excitement, it felt real.

Apollo fell back against the ropes, their support being his only saving grace. His wife screamed from the audience “Stop the fight!” but they won’t, the Russian won’t stop, the fight is still going.

Steve must have started hallucinating. For a moment, all he could hear was his own breath, exhausted and wheezy with pain.

“Scoops... I... I work... Scoops...”

Robin is screaming, sobbing, wailing, voice pounding through his aching head. “Stop it! Stop hurting him!”

A final blow to the jaw. Apollo swung backwards toward the horrified faces of the audience, then lunged forward in depletion. There was blood in his teeth and on his face and staining the white rags and his eye was swollen shut. And the Russian’s wife smiled.

The doctor grinned, white teeth glimmering against the dark beard. He demands something in Russian, and Steve doesn’t understand, but he wants to, he wants to make it go away.

The soldier leans in a final time, delivering a solid blow to his temple.

Steve’s sight fizzles in and out like a kaleidoscope as he falls.

His head hits the concrete floor, and he feels it, the burning pain at the back of his head, seeping up through his brain until his sight goes black.

Apollo was on the floor. His body seized with fatigue and Rocky grabbed him, cradling him in his lap, and he was screaming, crying out for something, and the Russian was still talking but all that gets through to Steve is the grating accent and the fear.

“What did you do to him?!” Robin screams, pulling his weak body towards her with bound hands. “Steve, wake up! Steve, oh my God, wake up, Steve!”

It felt like someone had shoved cotton in his ears. He couldn’t hear anything but his own pulse and his own breath, but somehow, Drago’s last couple words made it through.

“If he dies, he dies.”

Steve got to his feet before he realized he was doing it. His legs were moving, and he wasn’t telling them where to go, but they knew somehow. All he was aware of was the nausea sweeping through him like a tidal wave and the trembling, paranoid fear taking over his entire body.

“Who do you work for?!”

“Scoops Ahoy. The ice cream place.”

Thud. His face burned.

“Who do you work for?!”

“Scoops!”

His head flew to the side, pulling something in his neck and shooting white-hot pain down his spine.

“Hit him again.”

Steve collapsed against the bathroom floor. He didn’t even have it in him to make it to a stall and lock himself in; he just melted there against the wall.

Sweat dripped down his forehead and his back, drenching him. He couldn’t breathe; his sweatshirt was too tight around his throat and his jeans were touching too much of his thighs and he couldn’t get his chest to move.

Every muscle in his body was too tight to move. Maybe he was having a seizure or a heart attack, but it didn’t even matter, because his head ached around a phantom black eye and a scar on his temple that had taken much too long to heal. His eyes felt massive and dry, like if he didn’t get air soon, they were going to pop out of his head.

He knew he needed to breathe, get the air in and out in a timely manner, but every time he tried to open his mouth, he would just wheeze out “Scoops,” or “Robin!”

The Russians killed Apollo. He was laying on the floor next to him and Robin, in those stupid Americano shorts that were the same color as Steve’s uniform, and Steve knows they’re coming for him next. He played Apollo with Tommy; he is Apollo and he’s about to receive the same fate.

He watched the door to the bathroom in terror like Dolph Lundgren was going to storm through at any moment to try and fight him next. Steve couldn’t win. He wouldn’t win. Not against a Russian, not against Drago.

They were going to kill him. Drago was coming, and as soon as he found him, he was going to beat him to death just like Apollo.

Maybe Steve was sobbing. That would explain the burning in his throat and the noise making his head throb. He couldn’t stop it though; he couldn’t seem to control anything except to pull his knees to his chest and curl in on himself to try and protect his head and his ribs.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, suffocating, shaking, anxious hands tearing through the hair at the back of his head, partially to cover his neck, partially to pull at the roots of his hair until he felt something other than fear. Eventually, he stopped crying, the tears were gone, but he still couldn’t breathe, and his whole face felt clogged up with whatever was left of his sobs.

That only made him panic more, realizing he wasn’t getting any air, and his hands moved down his neck to claw away at his throat and open something up. His nails were dull and harsh, tearing up the skin as he pawed at his Adam’s apple, hyperventilating so loudly, it filled up all his senses so that was all he could hear for a good long while.

“Hey... You alright?”

The voice felt far away and soft like it was spoken by someone who had never experienced the harshness of sensation. God? Steve thought stupidly, carefully acknowledging that to be the first thought he’d had in a long while that wasn’t about his own demise via Russian cruelty.

“Harrington. Can you hear me?”

Steve forced his head up, pupils blown wide with adrenaline, glancing skittishly from wall to wall, trying to remember where he was.

“Right here. You’re okay. Try and breathe for me, Harrington.”

Steve’s shallow breaths continued, hands trailing back up to pull his hair again. He didn’t get there, however, because warm hands clamped softly around his wrists and pulled them away. “Careful. Don’t hurt yourself, honey.”

Steve could see his hands, when he moved his fingers a little bit so he could comprehend that they were his, then followed up the foreign hands- now gripping higher up on his forearm to keep him from falling backward- along pale arms and black sleeves, then up along the corner of a tattoo peeking from underneath the collar of the shirt. Higher up, face-to-face with him, although he hadn’t actually seen it until now, was a tangle of messy curly hair and choppy bangs framing the darkest brown eyes he’d ever seen.

“Adrian?” He choked out. Relief surged through him at the recognition, despite the nagging at the back of his mind that that actually couldn’t be Adrian, because Adrian was here with him, and she was gonna take care of him and fix things like she did for Rocky. “Adrian...”

“Sure.” She mumbled. “Deep breaths, Harrington. Like you’re swimming.” She took a few exaggerated deep breaths for him to mirror, and he nodded weakly, trying to force his lungs to expand entirely.

For a few seconds-or minutes; time really had no meaning for Steve anymore- this went on, Adrian taking one breath and Steve copying until he could do it on his own. She loosened her grip on his arms, eventually dropping them completely. “There you go. Feeling okay?”

Steve hesitated while he assessed. His scalp burned from tugging on his hair, and he was sure he’d scratched his throat up pretty bad, but his hands weren’t shaking nearly as much as they had been a minute ago, and he could unclench his jaw finally- he hadn’t realized it had been so tight; the tension was probably the root cause of the headache- so yeah, he decided. “Better.”

“You ever had a panic attack before?”

He shook his head, choosing not to speak again because of the pathetic gravelly sound of his voice and blinking quickly to fight off the next wave of tears- exhausted ones this time.

“Pretty scary, huh? But it’s okay, it’s not forever. It always goes away. You’re safe, okay?”

He nodded weakly, gazing off over her shoulder to be sure the Russians weren’t coming. God, he was going to have to protect her if Drago came. He could fight, he could protect her...

“You aren’t quite back, are you, Harrington?”

Steve startled, darting his glance back toward her. “My...” He choked out, frustrated that his voice didn’t sound right yet; still too wet and broken to be his own. “My name is Steve.”

Adrian chuckled softly. “Yeah. Yeah, I know who you are, Steve. I’m glad you know.” She brushed a stray piece of hair from his eyes. “Can you tell me where we are?”

“Bathroom,” Steve mumbled. “Starcourt.”

“Starcourt? Like the mall? No, it burned down months ago. Remember?”

Steve swallowed hard, staring at the tile. It wasn’t like Starcourt’s- instead of red, green, and orange, this was green, blue, and black. It wasn’t Starcourt. Starcourt was over. Gone. He took a deep breath. “ShowTimez. Theater.”

“Hey, there you go.” She shifted her knees out from under her- it was painful to kneel for so long- and settled cross-legged across from him. “Do you... do you know who I am?”

“Adrian,” Steve whispered quickly.

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, almost disappearing under dark bangs. “Like from the movie? Gee, thanks, Harrington, you know how to woo a guy.” She tore her sight away, almost blushing, and continued self-consciously. “Not quite. You... you probably don’t know who I am. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Steve felt bad for getting it wrong. And if it wasn’t Adrian... who cared enough to be so gentle with him? Panic started to fill up inside him again. Who had caught him? Who knew he was here, worse, who had seen him crying? He looked back up, trying to reassess, figure out the right answer.

Upon better inspection, it very much wasn’t Adrian. Besides the hair and the eyes, they didn’t look at all similar. Actually, it was a man, which should’ve been his first assumption given that he was on the floor of the men’s bathroom, but he also forgot his own name for a second there, so he would let it go. He had thick, steel rings that Steve couldn’t coherently recognize into any shapes yet, and tattoos on his arms that Steve hadn’t noticed in his first sweep either. But the face was familiar. Tommy had hated him, loved to pick on him in high school. Maybe Steve had had gym with him junior year. But really, Steve knew him because he was always in the background of whatever place he was driving Dustin to. The party joined Hellfire in September; Steve had been seeing this guy vaguely for months. The name was slow coming to him- everything felt lagged- but eventually, he managed, “Munson. Eddie.”

He grinned. “Yeah! See, I knew I wasn’t that forgettable. Go ahead and call me Talia Shire though, that’s the best name I’ve been called in a while.”

The corners of Steve’s mouth twitched. Maybe it wasn’t Adrian, who he knew he could trust- She's not real, moron, he reminded quickly- but Eddie was harmless. Dustin talked about the guy so much, it was like Steve already knew him anyway.

God, Dustin. What if Eddie told Hellfire and the kids found out he’d been here, and worse, that he’d freaked out? He didn’t know if he could handle it if the kids ever found out he wasn’t as strong as he pretended.

“You can’t tell Dustin.” Steve blurted out.

“What?”

“He can’t know I was here, that I was...” He struggled for the words.

Eddie nodded softly. “Yeah. Okay. I won’t tell him.” He lowered his voice as he said it like it was already a secret. “What the little shit doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Steve nodded haphazardly to communicate that he agreed, but he just felt like he looked stupid.

“Hey, uh, do me a favor, and don’t tell the kids you saw me here, either, actually.” Eddie continued. “It goes against my code and everything to watch...” He trailed off, suddenly aware of his audience and needing to watch himself.

“Sports movies.” Steve finished. Eddie grimaced, so he added, “Yeah, no, I get it.”

Eddie nodded, forcing a smile, but it was still tainted with guilt like he’d said something wrong.

Steve was quick to stifle the awkwardness. “How come Rocky makes the cut then?”

“Oh, I don’t really know.” His shoulders relaxed a little and he admitted, “I rented the first one on accident. I was looking for Rocky Horror Picture Show, and the tape said Rocky and I’m a fucking moron, and thought they were the same thing because whoever labeled the tape didn’t bother to write the whole thing, and then I’d already paid for it so I just... watched it and... kinda got sucked in. I love a good suave-athlete-falls-for-a-freak plot.”

Steve grinned. “Me too! I only cared about the boxing when I was younger, but now...”

Eddie tipped his head and stared at him bewilderedly.

“What?”

Eddie shook his head dismissively, tentative smile pulling at the side of his mouth, mumbling, “Never would’ve guessed.”

Steve felt horribly seen, like he’d said too much, flush creeping up his face, and he reached up to pull on the hair at the back of his neck again. But Eddie just laughed softly and pushed himself over next to Steve, leaning back against the wall and brushing his shoulder.

“Are you going to be okay to drive home?”

He nodded, starting to shift to his numb, tingly feet, stumbling and having to prop himself on the wall. “Yeah, I should probably go.”

“Hey.” Eddie grabbed his wrist, softly; he could pull away if he really wanted to. “Calm down, give it a minute. You just started breathing again, let’s make sure you’re good to go.”

So Steve didn’t pull away. He slumped back against the tile, legs sprawled forward to get the blood flowing again.

“Does your head hurt?”

Steve glanced over. “What?”

“Just... uh,” He shifted uncomfortably, clearly trying to find a different way to address what he was thinking of. “You were pulling your hair. I wondered if maybe you... you know, what? It doesn’t matter.” He dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out a little white bottle of Advil. “If you want some.”

“Why do you have that?” Steve chuckled softly, taking it from him thankfully. “I mean, I’ve heard your drug-dealer reputation; I just didn’t realize this is what they meant.”

“Har har.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “It’s for Sinclair actually. He’s been-”

“Bitching about his ankle? Yeah, I keep telling him I’ll wrap it for him but he’s-”

“Being a shithead about the whole thing. He’s gonna drive me to do something drastic.”

“Seriously!” Steve cried. “I’ll hold him down, you can punch.”

Eddie laughed, a real, actual laugh and Steve thought he was going to have no choice but to implode. He was so pretty; he understood the Adrian-mistaking suddenly.

Steve wanted to say something, wanted to make him laugh like that again, but before he could grasp anything, the door shoved open and shattered their perfect privacy.

It was the bubblegum girl from the front desk. She popped the wad of pink obnoxiously, huffing out “Dude, the movie’s been over for like twenty minutes. We’re closing.”

Steve and Eddie shared a conspiratorial Ah-shit-we’re-in-trouble look, before getting to their feet. Steve was still holding the Advil bottle, somewhat uselessly because he’d forgotten he had it. He popped it open and swallowed a few, handing it back to Eddie who banished it back to his pocket.

Bubblegum Girl stared them down the whole way out into the lobby, the pair of them giggling as they went, until eventually they stepped into the cold darkness outside the theater, and the spell was broken. Here they were again, in real life, where things were not so great as that bathroom floor or the world within Rocky.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Eddie asked softly like he was afraid something had changed the second they’d passed through the doors.

Steve nodded vaguely. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright.”

He shot him a peculiar look and turned off towards where he was inevitably parked, calling out, “Stay safe, Harrington.”

Steve laughed out loud.

March 1986-

Steve hovered over Eddie, who was sitting on Steve’s bathroom counter with his legs over the side, cleaning up the blood on his face with antiseptic wipes Nancy had pulled out of nowhere. His stitches were soft and pliable still, and Steve hated how bulky and thick his fingers were for a moment because if they were small and slim it would force him to be gentler.

Eddie cried out as he brushed over the top of the gash and Steve cringed, yanking his hands back softly to avoid hurting him anymore.

“Sorry,” Steve murmured.

He was afraid to reach back to finish the job- Eddie was in enough pain as it was- so he stood there, watching him for any more signs of discomfort.

Eddie lifted his head languidly, glancing at the slash of bright red on Steve’s forehead, the angry crimson chain around his neck. He tentatively traced his fingertips along his skin, not along the scab, but just below it, and Steve hummed out a low sound in relief.

“You alright there, Balboa?”

It came out a little more slurred than he would’ve liked, but he was on a good deal of narcotics for God’s sake, and it must’ve delivered itself well enough because Steve offered him a small smile.

“Feel like a large wound,” he offered in his best Stallone accent.

Eddie laughed, and it hurt like a mother on his broken ribs and the stitches in his side, so it quickly delved into a whine, and Steve instantly reached out even if there was nothing he could do.

He caught his hand, pulled it into his lap, just to hold it there. Steve didn’t say anything.

“Steve.”

“Hmm...”

Eddie let go. Took Steve’s face carefully in his hands, even though the stretch sent pain shooting through his torso. “I understand now. Everything. Robin told me about the Russians.”

Steve swallowed thickly, head dipping almost in shame, as if it was too much to meet Eddie’s eyes and risk finding his pity there.

Eddie just tipped his head back up gently. “If I had known... I... I wouldn’t have let you go home alone that night. That’s... that’s not what Adrian does.”

Steve tipped his head just a little like he didn’t quite understand the sentiment.

Eddie swallowed. “I’m gonna kiss you now. You ain’t gotta kiss me back.”

He properly grinned this time, leaning in to meet him halfway, hands placed carefully on Eddie’s knees as he pulled in his face.

And he did kiss back. What can he say? He loves a good suave-athlete-falls-for-a-freak plot.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #tw: panic attack #steddie hurt/comfort #steddie fic #alternate meeting #rocky references #rocky iv spoilers #ficlet

212 notes · View notes

rpfisfine · 2 months

Text

literally the maddest ive ever been in my entire life i just got bullied on the bus by these 5 loud as fuck cocky teenage cunts who kept opening the window right above my fucking head and spraying passing cars with a water bottle no matter how many times i slammed it shut and told them to stop and then when i finally turned around and said could you please stop i'm literally just trying to get home in peace this one fucking loser asked "ummmm why" so i was like "because it's annoying and everybody would tell you the same thing" and he was like "well if you don't like it you can always leave, there's the door" and i was so genuinely shell-shocked and speechless at the audacity plus i already have a stutter and always get so unbelievably angry during these kinds of interactions that it's literally like life-threatening to me almost so i couldn't even comprehend what he had just said to me but i did manage to humiliate him by being like "how old are you?" (no answer) "how old are you?" (no answer) "fifteen?" and he literally was too visibly embarrassed to say anything and wouldn't give me any other number he just made fun of how "adult" i was but in my stressed out fucking state i kind of forgot to tell him that i literally am an adult bc i didn't want to just compare ages like some kind of cringe idiot so they might live with the assumption that i was either the same age as them or ever so slightly older than them for the rest of their lives bc i do look 16 at most irl which i'm trying to come to terms with currently but anyway i literally just kept my focus on this one asshole right behind me and confronted him in genuinely the most firm but polite manner i could and then immediately as soon as i turn back around the guy sitting next to him goes "uhhhhhh i couldn't understand One single word she said so it's time to continue boys 🤪" and then they started laughing at me + screaming 10 times louder than before + blowing raspberries at me like fucking 3 year olds so i waited for the next stop then got up and sat beside someone else even though i was so happy to get a window seat for the first time in legitimate months and im still so unimaginably fucking angry abt the whole thing i know it doesn't seem like that big of a deal but when ppl make fun of the way i speak or mock me or say they can't understand me it literally makes me want to claw their eyes out and on top of everything else that had happened during the interaction it was just slightly too much for me to handle i didn't want to stoop to their level by cursing them out or being legitimately mean even though they deserved it but i regret not telling them to die as i was walking past them i hope a horrible horrible future awaits their loser hypebeast bully friendgroup i hope they never get girlfriends or accepted into college and i hope someone with less patience than me beats them up for their behavior one day

#this sounds extreme but i speak from experience when i say that nothing in the world is more pathetic or evil to me than teenage boys #mp

22 notes · View notes

lyrakanefanaticwriting · 2 months

Note

Heyy I've got a fic request- Avery randomly remembers her ancient pontiac and tells Jameson about how her mom gave it to her. So he gets it back somehow and fixes it and takes her on a ride and she starts crying <33 💔

OMG HELP I GOT THIS REQUEST LAST MONTH BUT IVE BEEN IN THE BIGGEST SLUMP EVERRR IM SO SORRY 😭😭

but here you go!! 💗

Jameson laid back on the floor, letting the tools in his hand fall to the ground with a clatter. 2 months ago, Avery had told him about her ancient Pontiac, which her mother had given her before she passed, and it hadn’t left his mind. So, a week later he decided that for their 2 year anniversary, he was going to fix it and give it to her. It was difficult, of course, and Jameson wasn’t even sure if the car was still in one piece, or if it had been scrapped, but he was up for a challenge. Eventually, after tracking down every car dealer in New Castle, he found a run down garage which was owned by an old fella named Walter. Jameson was lucky he had came when he had, because Walter was about to sell the car for parts. He struck up a deal for a lot more than that car was worth, and brought it back to Hawthorne House to fix it. It took a month and a half of meticulously working every day, and somehow keeping it hidden from Avery, when today he finally finished. Jameson stood up, wiping the dust and grease from his hands onto his pants, and examined the car. Pontiacs weren’t exactly Jameson style, as he was sure it wasn’t Averys either, but it wasn’t about what the car looked like. It was about what the car meant to her. And if Avery wanted an almost falling apart car that seriously needed to be put down, then she was going to get one.

——————————————————————————

“A helicopter ride, archery, hot air balloons, watching the sunset on the beach…” Avery trailed off, her head on Jameson’s chest.

“Don’t forget the ice sculpting challenge.” He added, a smile playing on his lips. Avery huffed.

“I still think I won that. Your dolphin looked more like a whale.” She said. Jameson laughed.

“What’s the difference anyway?” Avery snickered, and although Jameson wanted her to keep lying on her chest as they watched the twinkling night sky, her big surprise had not yet been revealed.

“Avery…” He trailed off, sitting up. Avery sat up too, meeting his eyes. Jameson wanted to get lost in them and never come back. “I may have one last surprise.” She quirked a brow.

“Like what?” She said, a sly smile playing on her face. Jameson couldn’t help but smile back as he pulled her to her feet, and took her hand. He led her to the garage, although the car had been in the giant storage room before he took it out, and put his hands over her eyes.

“I’m going to see it anyway, Jameson.” She said, with a playful huff. Jamesons smile grew.

“I know. But I want the surprise to last longer. I’ll tell you when you can look.” If her eyes weren’t covered, I’m sure Avery would have rolled them, but instead she just nodded and followed him. He opened the garage door before leading her inside.

“Are you ready?” He asked her. There was only one moment of hesitation before she spoke.

“Yes.” Her voice was sure and confident, and just from that Jameson could feel himself falling in love with her a million times over again. He removed his hands from over her eyes and heard her physically gasp as she stared at the car in front of her. There was silence, as she slowly walked towards the car and let go of Jamesons hand, and Jameson didn’t have to see her face to know she was shocked.

“Jameson…” She said, trailing off as her hand brushed the cars surface. Jameson just stared at her as he waited for her to say something else. Anything else. “How did you find this?” Her voice was full of disbelief and awe. Jameson smiled.

“Well it was difficult, as I didn’t know if the car was even still in one piece, but I eventually found it.” He said. Avery turned around to look at him, and Jameson saw tears in her eyes. Immediately, his heart stopped. Had he done something wrong?

“Jameson.” She said, the tears now starting to slip down her cheek. Jameson immediately backtracked.

“Oh Avery, I’m so sorry. Did you not want to see it again because it reminded you of your mother? I’m seriously sorry Heiress, I didn’t know-“ He started apologizing, but Avery cut him off.

“No!” She said, putting her hands out. Jameson paused. She brought them back to her sides and smiled. “It’s just… this is the best gift that anyone’s ever given me. I always wondered what happened to this car, and now you fixed it for me? Jameson.” She said, her voice breaking on the last part as she rushed over to him and brought his lips to hers. Jameson felt the blood rush back into his face as he kissed her back, wondering how he got so lucky. Eventually they separated, and Avery held his face in her hands.

“Thank you.” She said, tears running down her cheeks. Jameson wiped them away individually with his thumb, before speaking.

“Of course. But, Heiress, how can you like the car when you haven’t even driven it yet?” He said, a smile playing on his face. Averys eyes widen.

“You mean, the cars not too old to drive it?” She asked, raising a brow as a grin overtook his face. Her smile made his stomach twist.

“Well, it was,” He said, grinning himself and reaching into his pocket, pulling out a pair of car keys. “Before I fixed it.” He held the keys out for Avery to take, and met her eyes. She stared into his eyes for 3 seconds before grabbing the keys and his hand, and speaking.

“Let’s do it.”

Avery drove the car out of the garage and onto the racing track, but slowly, in case the car couldn’t handle it.

“Oh, cmon,” Jameson said, once they were on the track. “Can’t you speed up?” Avery face was still full of disbelief, and when she laughed it was breathy.

“You sure?” She asks. Was he sure the car was safe? Well, yes, since he’d updated all of the gear and made sure everything was working fine. He gently took her chin in his hand.

“I’m sure.” He said, softly. She held his eyes, before nodding and putting her hands back on the wheel. Without a warning, Avery suddenly speeds up and starts driving faster than Jameson thought she would at first. A grin overtook his face as she drove faster and faster, as if testing the cars limits. She drove, again and again around the track without saying a word. Then, suddenly, a sob rattled her chest as she slowed down and pulled over on the side of the track. Jameson leaned closer to her too see if she was okay.

“Avery? What’s-“ He was about to finish, but she cut him off.

“Thank you.” She said, tears streaming down her face.

“You don’t know how much this means to me. It almost feels like my mom is still alive, and taking me out for a test drive in my brand new car.” She said, sniffing and laughing sadly. Jameson smiled back, and kissed her nose.

“You’re welcome, Heiress. But just for the record, I think I have to ask….” He said, taking her hands in his. “Was your mom a fan of fast cars?” Jameson placed her hands back on the wheel, and held his own over them. Avery stared at his hands on hers before turning to him, tears still in her eyes. She was luminous, absolutely beautiful and brilliant in every way, and then she was smiling. To make matters worse for Jamesons heart, she raised a brow, and that little movement made his heart race.

“Are you challenging me, mystery boy?” She asked. Jameson gave her one of his winning smirks, before bringing his face close to hers. It looked like he was about to kiss her, before he brings his mouth to her ear instead.

“Guess.”

——————————————————————————

SORRY THIS IS KIND OF LONG BUT HERE YOU GO!! 💗💗 (also again im rlly sorry that it took so long for me to make this, ive been lazy 😪)

#avery kylie grambs #jameson hawthorne #the inheritance games #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #the brothers hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #javery #averyjameson #my fic #fic request

24 notes · View notes

1kari · 2 months

Text

alright! recap of the last 3 hours. tldr neighbor got arrested for five felony charges and almost killed her husband 👍

so. shes been getting bad the past few days (saying stuff like “i dont give a FUCK how you feel” and “i wish you would just drop dead” to her husband, that sort of thing) and apparently she had another violent outburst and she left the apartment. so i went over to talk to him and see what was up to see if he was ok (he has terminal heart failure so like. i wanted to check on him)

while im there suddenly theres a POUNDING on the door, non stop, really angry knocking over and over. he tries to say like “what do you want” to her through the door but she doesnt stop. he tells me “just open the door before she gets more violent and breaks a window” so im like you know yeah ok. im scared as fuck but yeah so she gets angry at me and tells me to leave im like Yep was planning on it 👍 but her husband told me he didnt feel safe alone with her.

she starts screaming at him saying a lot of really irrational things and hes just like “look, what can i do to make it so we can talk like adults” and that sets her off. by this point i was standing outside the door to their apartment (he was in the doorway) and hes just like “should i call the cops??” because we both have peaceful contact restraining orders and she was in a place where it was likely shed get physically violent. i tell him look if youre afraid for your safety (which with her history he had every right to be) then id call them. shes still screaming the whole time this is happening too

i pull up the number for the police dept just in case, and as im doing that she grabs him, throws him inside, and slams the door shut behind them and i hear loud thumps like someone being thrown against the wall. im already on the phone with dispatch at this point because she Has tried to kill him in the past, and i hear him screaming “DYLAN HELP ME! HELP!!!” like ive never heard him sound so fearful before. i tell dispatch “i have to go in there and see if hes ok” and they tell me to stay outside and stay on the line

they send someone out, i hear more thumping, i’m feeling terrible because it’s likely she’s beating the shit out of him (i know what that sounds like cuz ive seen her do it before.) and, after this was all over, he told me she slammed him into the wall, threw him on the ground, kicked him in the head, and then tried to strangle him with two hands (he had the marks around his neck, too). he said he almost passed out but thats when the police knocked and she answered the door and went outside and i heard her be all “why are you here i didnt do anything” and this whole time im texting her husband and calling him and not getting a response so i was genuinely worried she killed or seriously injured him.

so they start questioning her, she starts getting progressively more defensive and aggressive, and once she asks “can i talk to him?” the cops say no, and she starts SCREAMING. when i say i have never heard someone scream like this in my life…. it was awful. she was screaming at full volume just like a bloodcurdling scream, over and over and over for 20 minutes while the cops are trying to get her in the car. i hear the cops say “stop kicking” and “stop resisting arrest” over and over and she starts saying things like “FUCK YOU YOU SON OF A BITCH IM GOING TO KILL YOU IM GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU” to the cops…… anyway.

so! she was arrested for five felony counts. 1) domestic violence, 2) violation of a court restraining order, 3) resisting arrest, 4) criminal threat, and 5) harm to officers. and depending on the situation she might be charged for attempted murder.

i felt bad about calling the cops at first because i was like “what if she really didnt do anything” but knowing she tried to kill him… i feel worse that i didnt go inside when he screamed for help but i honestly now think she would have tried to hurt me too and it’s better i called when i did. especially since the only thing that saved his life was the police knocking on their door when they did.

sooo she’s going to be in prison for probably at LEAST ten years. maybe upwards of 25 depending on what they do charge her with…. my god. anyway that was my night :)

#sorry veeery long under readmore. tw for domestic violence etc

15 notes · View notes

mrfellsans · 29 days

Text

✩Got inspired to write the thoughts that came in my head after reading angst time with @cutechan555 ✩

Warning. This is kinda long-

This makes me wonder if there is a core memory that would take ages for peppino just to remember at least one heart breaking and impactful moment he had including Naya caretta and Theo (there would probably be happy memories to but er ya know)

For tragic ones: Like for peppino to remember a bit of noise as a kid he would probably remember the second before he blacked out which was when he saw kid noise crying in front of him, I feel like this would be a core memory since he wanted to help noise he didn't want him to get hurt and before he blacked out and got amnesia I feel like he would try his best to at least comfort him for a second but the foggyness caught up and he was never able to help one last time, For Naya I'm thinking maybe she was in a dangerous situation where she wandered off into a little forest near the park leading her to a pack of stray dogs that crowded around her and tries attacking her but luckily peppino came in last second grabbed her and ran out the forest with her and other then this being a dangerous situation I feel like this would be the first time Peppino helped Naya out in a bad situation like that so I'm thinking like Naya was very thankful and probably said a simple like "Thank you mama Pino" and those words probably hit like a truck for peppino cuz it showed how much they care about Pino And for Caretta I feel like it be a bit similar to Nayas but different in a way, technically caretta wondered off on purpose and she was missing for like the whole day and then eventually around sunset peppino found her and lashed out a bit out her for just going without a trace and caretta just doesn't care and like peppino sits next to her and ask her what's wrong and she says "Ive been thinking of bad things happening" and like peppino starts feeling a bit bad since kids they don't rlly learn about sad stuff at an early age and he ask what are those thoughts and caretta responds with "I'm scared you won't be with us forever like one day your gonna die, today I learned what dying was and I don't want mommy or daddy to die or you" and peppino probably hesitates to respond and says "don't worry I'll be here for as long as you like" and caretta is like "But what if one day you have to go? Are you gonna say bye?" And I feel like that just hurt peppino anymore, this tiny child is thinking of worse case scenarios and I feel like if your like an older person and you hear like a little kid talking about stuff like that it it just hits different you know? Not in a good way but a painful way. After that he said he would promise to say bye and picked her up and took her back home, though that bye never happened.

Anyways I got inspired by these scenarios by: Noise car accident comic that CC made, Naya for having a pet doggo named James, and for caretta a similar experience I had with a child earlier today

Naya by @luigigirl12

(Sorry if y'all didn't wanna be tagged my mind just started going haywire after reading the angst cc made 🥲)

#pizza tower #noise siblings

16 notes · View notes

randomfoggytiger · 3 months

Text

"You're Only Going to End Up Hurting Yourself"

Part V of the Bill Scully POV mini-series (Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV~.)

(Dedicated to @baronessblixen for her continued interest.)

*****

The first time Bill Scully saw Dana’s child was after the hearing.

Maggie showed him Emily’s picture in passing-- though how or when she’d gotten it, he hadn't known-- mumbling, “I said she doesn’t look like Melissa; but she does, doesn’t she, Bill?” Mulder’s car drove up then; and his mom dashed off to put the photo back.

While Dana and her partner spilled out and wove around each other-- indescribably in sync, shadowing each other-- Bill thought, Yes, she does look like you, Melissa-- more like you than Dana.

*****

He allowed Mulder to stay past polite visiting hours, maintaining a stern but silent distance as much as possible. Because of this man's testimony, Dana stood a chance. Her daughter stood a chance.

“Bill, I’m so tired,” Tara had whispered, massaging her drooping head with both hands. She looked up, eyes clouded with confusion and grief-- for Dana, for this little girl, for their first Christmas as a growing family. “I just want to get some sleep.”

His own headache seemed to radiate from the top of his skull to the slope of his shoulders: everything tensed, everything ached. Wearily standing, he nodded. “Then let’s get you to bed, Honey.”

“He won’t think it’s rude?”

“I don’t think the normal standards apply to him, Tara. It’s late, anyway.”

They lumbered to the staircase, fatigued, when Dana poked through the doorway. “You guys okay?”

Of course they weren’t. His sister was murdered. His other sister had an unidentifiable chip in her neck. His brother had started speaking to him again and sent a gift to Dana for Christmas. His wife’s hard-won holiday was shot. His baby was due two weeks ago. His little sister had a daughter that wasn't hers. His mother was almost sick with worry. The pain never stops.

“Could you take Tara’s other arm so we can…?”

And Dana did, like he knew she would: a need to be of use. Perhaps as penance, for everything.

*****

He should have expected Dana and Mulder would vanish in the night.

He woke a fitful hour later to the surprise of an eerily quiet house; and was still more surprised that the two of them had not simply dropped into a deep sleep on the couch rather than… wherever they’d gone. He didn’t know which outlook was more grim: the thought she’d followed her partner back to his motel or the suspicion that they were both chasing down another lead in the Sims’ case.

It was after eight when the phone rang, about the time Maggie would be up and about.

“Hello? Um, it’s Dana… Mom, if you can pick up the phone--”

“Dana? It’s Bill.”

He heard her long sigh through the wire, wondered how many times she’d watched the clock to increase her odds of avoiding him. “Bill. Hi.”

“Where are you, Dana?”

“I’m… at the hospital. Emily’s sick.”

The pain never stops. “She is? How sick-- what happened?’

“I don’t know, it’s…. She has a rare disorder that was being treated before her parents’ murder. We don’t know…. We’re working on diagnosing her condition right now so we can treat her.”

“Do you want us to be there with you?”

“No. No, I, uh, think it’s best that you and Mom and Tara keep your distance, for now. Until we know something.”

“Is her condition communicable?”

“Bill…. It’s safer if you three stay away.”

“Dana.”

“...Yes?”

“We’ll pray for her.”

*****

Maggie intended to call Dana after lunch, but by eleven o’clock the three of them had checked into labor and delivery. By three, Dana still hadn’t answered her phone; and by four they were transferred to a private room.

“Mom, leave it!” Bill yelled, his wife’s excruciating grip sapping away the last reserves of his patience; but it was Tara’s pleading “Mom,” that drew her back.

It was late when his sister reconnected; and, with labor stalled and an epidural in, he nodded-- with his wife's go-ahead-- at Maggie, who hurried to wherever the Sim girl's ward was and back in under forty minutes.

Matthew was over six hours old before Dana called again. From his periphery, Bill watched his mother grab the phone and dodge into the hall as Tara shifted slightly in her sleep. His all-consuming focus, however, was on the quiet baby in his arms-- staring at his son’s tiny, clenching fists; wondering if his baby hairs would rust like his sisters’ or darken like his own.

He didn’t glance up when Maggie reentered and approached; but he snapped to attention when her quivering exhale broke the silence.

Tears were streaming down her red cheeks, black makeup smearing in small splotches around her eyes.

“Bill….”

Emily was gone.

*****

Dana poured her grief into meticulous planning-- despite wanting to do more, the family was only allowed to assist with sorting paperwork and dialing up Bill's priest for the funeral service.

Between baby Matthew’s homecoming, Tara’s recovery, new parenthood, and necessary arrangements, it took over a week before he realized Mulder no longer came to the house.

*****

The first time Bill saw Dana's child in person was at her wake.

She was Melissa-blonde-- the red not yet prominent enough to shift her from strawberry to flaming redhead-- and Dana chubby. Her pretty little dress still smelled new, its blue perfectly complementing the small, gold cross necklace draped across her neck.

He stood silently by as the funeral director lowered the coffin lid, refusing to think about the fact he’d never gotten to look into his niece's eyes.

*****

New flights were booked two days before Emily’s funeral; and two days after, his mother and sister were packing up for their return trip back to D.C.

“D.C.? Don’t you want to spend time with Mom in Maryland?”

Dana had paused and straightened to her full height. “No. My extended leave is almost up. Besides, I need to get back to work.”

“Back to work? You want to go back to work after everything?”

“Bill,” she snapped; then deflated, slumping onto the bed. “I can’t have this discussion right now.”

“Dana… we almost lost you, we’ve lost Melissa-- now Emily’s buried in my church cemetery. When will it be enough?”

“Bill, please. Don’t.”

She was going to cry. With the lack of sleep, the unreality of the past few weeks, and the infuriating nature of this impossible situation, even he might cry.

As if on cue, Matthew’s wails and Tara’s animated shushes floated down from the master bedroom, by turns swiftly grieved and swiftly soothed. Bill stood, half-in and half-out of Dana's door, trying to fathom the overwhelming protective surge that coursed like fire under his skin. In a split second, something ripped or erected or split apart-- hard to define, but powerful in its finality.

Turning to walk away, he added, “Fine. But tell Mom not to call me when you’re in trouble again, Dana-- I won’t lose my child, too.”

*****

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

Tagging @today-in-fic

#txf #fic #“You're Only Going to End Up Hurting Yourself”#Bill Scully POV #Bill Scully #S5 #Emily #Emily Sim #Scully #Tara Scully #Maggie Scully #Mulder #xfiles #x-files #the x files #xf fanfic #randomfoggytiger's fic

14 notes · View notes

usedpidemo · 1 year

Text

so i went to my first ever concert and...(storytime!)

Generally speaking, I don't like the concept of concerts. For the longest time, I've never had any interest in attending one. I've been disillusioned by the idea of them as a whole, with no disrespect to people who attend them. Even before the global pandemic that shut down live events, ironically, despite being on my headphones/speakers 90% of the time, I don't like crowds and extremely loud audiences. It also doesn't help that many live artists nowadays are just not good stage performers or lipsync or in some cases, aren't as pleasing to hear as the studio mix that I could easily play on Spotify. My mantra, which has always been my mother's as well, was "Just listen to the CD." This also explains why I don't really buy CDs anymore and stick to streaming instead.

It's now 2023, and as the old adage goes, things change. I've become a K-pop fan, live events are back, and there's this push to have me leave my house a lot more than I should. I'm no recluse like Bruce Wayne, but I certainly don't like going out when I could be relaxing and playing video games in my spare time even as an adult. Growing up made me realize that there's plenty of things that I should do, even at least once. I'm nowhere close to dying—I think so at least—but I definitely felt the need add some spice into my life and have some fresh memories to keep now that the pandemic's over.

Anyway—I've never been to a concert, and my older sister's only concert experience was seeing Fall Out Boy when she was in her teens that she desperately begged mom to see, and she was all the way up into the nosebleeds. Now obviously I can't go and see IZ*ONE anymore (sadblob) and every big act carries extremely large demand for them. My sister failed to secure Blackpink tickets for their tour even with the membership presale, and the experience was so frustrating and damning that she stopped listening to the group for a while. There's so many things that can go wrong even as early as ticket sales, so I understood that any concert I wanted to go to should be absolutely worth it.

It was during our vacation back in February when IVE announced that they would be bringing their fan concert around Asia, with June as the set date. I can remember seeing it trend on Twitter while waiting in the car; the hype was fucking real. I knew I had to be there by any means necessary. The campaign began as soon as we got back to our hotel. They said yes.

One thing I want to say is: fuck online ticketing. It sucks, big time. Anything that can go wrong, can and will go wrong. Yet some part of me was so uncertain and wanted to test the murky waters again. I got in touch with a third party way before they announced the ticket selling date, and I was so fixated on the success rate of the seller, against the advice of my family. It wasn't until two days before ticket selling that I was given a proper talk, saying that it could be a potential scam and that I should camp out the night before to get the best chances. Ultimately, I gave in and settled at a hotel close to a hotel without many fans. They ended up being right. I ended up first in line and got the best package for a little over $200. It was so difficult to keep my composure the moment I got the tickets all the way till I got home.

Fast forward to a little over a month. The family also booked me a nice hotel close to the venue days before the show so we wouldn't have to face insufferable traffic. I couldn't sleep the night before the show—not because I was excited and all, but I was genuinely feeling restless. It ultimately didn't matter as my mood and overall energy never diminished once I woke up 2.5 hours after finally sleeping.

You just know it's gonna be a good day when the first sign is making new friends out of nowhere. At breakfast, I befriended two Japanese tourists for some reason. My smile was wider than it normally was. It's so weird greeting people with amped up optimism that at times, it felt like main character energy, which was typically uncharacteristic of me. Mind you, I only had 2.5 hours of sleep.

An hour later, venue time—at least close to it. The concert organizers and local fanclubs held a fanhub that was already filling up the floor with a line that stretched around in a loop. So I bailed and went to the cafe across the street from where the actual concert would happen to get free shit. Saved myself almost $25 dollars from buying the I'VE IVE album because of a cupsleeve event being organized by a remnant of WIZ*ONEs. A big W if you ask me.

I even met up with some of my readers too! Cray and Nomad, if you're reading this, it was great finally meeting you. It was awesome to fanboy and connect with guys I've been talking to online for the past two years in person.

Afterward, we went inside an hour before show start, and people were already screaming like they showed up and it was just staff bringing out towels and water bottles. Then the lights went out and holy shit, everyone lost their shit. It wasn't a sold-out show but the audience's energy made it feel otherwise. They were singing instead of following fan-chants.

It should surprise no one that everyone killed it. Yujin is the 4th gen ace and no one can tell me any different. Wonyoung was absolutely fantastic in crowd control and drawing the audience in and lived up to the center title. They added both title tracks from I'VE IVE and changed up two of the cover songs for the unit stages, otherwise the set remains mostly similar to the ones in Korea and Japan, the only difference being new outfits and alternate color ones.

I'm gonna dedicate this section specifically for Liz. Consider me bias wrecked. She was not only an elite vocalist but she performed like the rent was due, holy shit. Blue Blood (my favorite stage of the night) in particular really gripped me and never let go. I was genuinely shook at how terrific she showed out in the performances. If anything, she's the 2nd best performer of the group after watching the footage.

There was an emotional moment at the end as the show was winding down. The members were lined up for the group photo when a fan video played and half of the members cried. Leeseo, Rei, and Yujin all cried and it was a wholesome scene. Rei mentioned how this was one of their first performances as a full group following her health hiatus and she was moved by the overwhelming support of the fans. Wonyoung also promised they would return—hopefully later than sooner I'm not loaded at the moment—which invalidates the stupid argument international Dives were having on Twitter. The girls felt their support, cried their heart out, and that's all you need to know.

After the event, there was a hi-bye session for all VIP ticket holders. They sent everyone else out, so it started 20 minutes after the actual ending. They kept reminding us that we weren't allowed to record or take photos of the event, but apparently someone at Starship was filming the whole thing? So there's a possibility that I might end up on YouTube, heh. Since we were on the left side of the stage, we were among the last to go up and meet them.

Holy fuck dude. I wasn't nervous while watching everyone else go up and meet IVE, but once the staff told us to form a single line and we slowly made our way around the stage, my heart began to go buckwild. You just don't know what to say or do when that moment comes—like how do I make this memorable or at the very least, not cringe? One thing I do know was that we all agreed, as a section, to walk past them as slow as humanly possible; five seconds was not enough. I was so unsure of what to do as I slowly walked up the steps to the point I was practically mouthing 'Jesus take the wheel' or else I'd melt into a puddle, lose my shit, do something stupid, or maybe all of the above.

Jesus Christ. They looked so fucking flawless. You honestly couldn't tell they were sweaty and exhausted after performing for 2.5 hours.

From left to right, it was Rei, Gaeul, Wonyoung, Yujin, Leeseo, and Liz. Liz was the first member I met, and she completed my half-heart gesture. From there, my brain blanked for a good three seconds. My mouth was still uttering 'Kamsahamnida' but that scene seemed to stick long past that moment. I couldn't register Leeseo, Yujin, and Wonyoung's reactions—I knew they were smiling and waving—but then my brain suddenly went back up as I met Gaeul and Rei's eyes right as we made our way out. I went to the bathroom and uttered a relieved, awestruck 'Holy shit.'

God. I don't know if I will ever move on from such an experience. I'm still thinking about the interaction as I write this little thought diary, and my mind keeps replaying the interactions with Liz, Gaeul, and Rei. All of them had lovely smiles and were so happy even though they clearly were gassed out, and I was in utter shock trying to comprehend what had happened. Famous streamer IShowSpeed met his hero Ronaldo the same day as the concert and if you've seen his video, he practically plays out all the emotions I wanted to feel after meeting them. I've not played any K-pop after the concert aside from English versions of songs and most certainly I've avoided IVE songs aside from rewatching my concert fancams because I'll just melt into a giddy pile of goo watching it, telling myself 'I was there.'

My sister only listens to Blackpink. She agreed to take me to the venue provided I buy her tickets, so this was a consolation or redemption of sorts after failing to secure tickets for the Born Pink tour. She's a Dive now. She couldn't stop raving over Wonyoung's beauty but she eventually found all the members to be cute and beautiful. It feels great to finally share a sweet moment with my sister despite the turbulent relationship we have.

In an ideal world, I'll be watching Le sserafim and the other IZ*ONE members when they perform/arrive here. Of course, there's many obstacles in the way, and I'm not loaded with disposable income. Seriously, these tickets were more expensive than a veteran group and they're supposed to be rookies! But the entire experience—the energy, the performances, and the ending—made every coin I spent worth it. If this ends up becoming the only concert I attend in my entire life moving forward, I'm glad it was an unforgettable one.

Gaeul, Yujin, Rei, Wonyoung, Liz, and Leeseo, thank you for making my year and giving me a core memory I can fondly look back on. I fucking love you guys.

#update #storytime

53 notes · View notes