#every fucking day i don't do shit and somehow feel more and more tired more and more stressed

[pearl-kite]

My first paycheck is only one week's worth, but it's also only $230, including the digital tips

🙃

#kite rambles #if I could somehow get five commissions a week I could get paid the same amount with far far far far less stress holy shit #put in elsewhere because I unfortunately cannot quit without something to immediately start and haven't heard back #because I never hear back idk what I do wrong but obviously it's something #was cramping up all day in addition to just shitty 7+ hour shift with no breaks #so damn tired #still haven't been taught any drinks either so it's a lot of me cashiering at the drive-thru (fine tbh almost like it) #and fumbling at the front counter to juggle cashiering and every single food order and making sure the food is stocked to BE ordered #and it's like part of me wants everything to slow the fuck down #but then when it does idk how to be helpful and also one minute becomes equivalent to an hour #reminding myself that teaching is not much better and was just destroying me more mentally while this one feels more physical #my head hurts #dare I say it aches #I don't really get headaches terribly often #I'm going to bed early even after a big nap today just done night night

[miamicommune]

fucking so sick of surviving

#i feel cursed #every fucking day i don't do shit and somehow feel more and more tired more and more stressed #ive always been a pretty angry person but i fully internalise it bc i don't want to upset anyone #but rn im getting more and more angry at myself and everything around me and im getting more and more intrusive thoughts #every time i pick up anything even slightly sharp or pointed the urge to just gouge out my own eyes just gets stronger #god why couldn't i have just died #im so tired and miserable all of the time #therapy can't help me it literally never has before #and i don't trust myself on antidepressants bc let's be honest id just try and off myself again #and everyone would get mad at me and itdm ake people miserable #god that's all i do #make people angry and miserable #it'd be better for me to just do it one more time so nobody has to put up with it for the rest of their lives #god #god why is any of this happening to me #cw eye trauma #cw sui

[cupidscrule]

BUNNY TRAP

Stepdad!Leon X Fem!Reader

Cw - p in v, daughter chasing after dad, stepcest, noncon(?) Unprotected

WRD- 1.5k

You always knew your dad was hot, total babe back in the 2000's ever since you were a kid your friends always gushed over him, and it was fair, always thought it was gross though. Like he's YOUR dad, stepdad yeah but he still raised you, sure he had a cute face, big arms, his pornstar tits were an add on. But he was Dad, nothin' more, But fuck the way he cups your cheek when your sad, hugs you, gives you that awkward Dad kiss. Just makes you yearn for him, which is wrong you know it's wrong but it's like that itch.

Your friends are always tellin' you how lucky you are, not only is Dad hot, he's nice y'know? Real good dad, picks you up everyday, gets you real nice things. Best guy honestly can see why Mom picked him!

"Hi kiddo, you wanted to check out that new place-?" Dad said opening your bedroom door, stupid fucken smile on his dumb hot face

'bury your face in my tits'

"Oh no -! It's okay- really I'm real tired"

'fuck me till I can't breathe'

"Huh- alright, come down soon dinners gonna be ready, and sorry Moms not home yet she said she'd be here in a few weeks 'k?"

'i wanna scream your name'

"Oh it's alright, and of course dad!"

With that he left, shutting the door halfway, dick move but it probably wasn't on purpose, the smell of his colone in the room, only imagining Dad stuff you up. God your disgusting, this is dad. Fourth something year old DAD, since when did you have these thoughts about him, as a kid sure you always thought he was cute 'ohhb I would totally date someone as big and strong as my Daddy!'

But it was LIKE, not actually him. But you can't stop thinkin' about him, wanting Dad to shove your face in the mattress pull on your hair, do the shit they do in pornos. Nasty thoughts, feeling gross and hot imagining all the shit you wanna do with the poor guy, as he just stood there not knowin' thinking your his innocent little daughter who could do no wrong! Oh no she would never have sex before marriage! Oh no my little girl doesn't even cuss!

Yeah right Dad, mhm. Actin' like in middle school my friends weren't blushing over you, whenever you walked in.

Fucken idiot, your little girls not pure, she's not good. She ain't innocent, hell she fantasizes about fucken you every day. It doesn't matter, nothings ever gonna come of this right? Just walk downstairs, eat dinner with dad and go back in your room and sleep it off.

"Sweetiee you finnaly came, how was your day?" Dad says sitting across from you, he didn't even cook. Fucken liar this was clearly some bullshit from a 4 star restaurant he just put on a plate. "Oh it's fine, nothin' much." You say staring at the table, trying to distract yourself from him, how he smells, how he sits, how he opens his mouth, the way he moves his bangs out of his dumb face, his breath. The intoxicating feeling of just bein' near him now.

"Are you okay?"

"Why'd you ask that? You know I'm always fine-" you say in response, playing with your fingers, avoiding his gaze. God feels like a crush in primary school, messin' up words and giggling to your friends about the fastest guy. "You just don't seem like yourselfer Hun, you can always talk to me you know that?" He says, feeling his eyes on you, not in a creepy way more an endearing way which somehow made your entire situation worse. "yeah- I know, don't worry it's fine!" You mumble, lookin' up at him, god he really was dreamy, just wanting him to- NO no more fantasy's.

You finish up, so does he. He just gives you that concerned Dad look before you get up and run back up the stairs like a bitch and lock yourself in your room, typing into Google

'how to stop liking your dad'

'is it normal to have a crush on your dad'

'is it illegal to fuck your step dad'

Jesus Christ your search history, just laying on your side in your bed. Thighs squeezed together tryna' stop thinking about dad, you've seen him shirtless before. Yeah you felt a little hot in your core before, anytime he hugged you you felt so- just so warm. Not the lovey Awee dad and daughter warm, more like if your boyfriend hugged you nice and tight! Feels good, feels warm and fuzzy, pit in your stomach that can only be filled by one thing.

Tossin' and turnin' it's only 6:00pm shit, Dad's still downstairs probobly watching some old movie, he really likes thoughs for some reason, and westerns it's kinda creepy but your the one who wants to fuck him so you really can't be judging. your thoughts are too much to bare, a girl can only last so long on the edge, panties soaked thinking about shit, and hell when you can actually recreate what you want, Nothing's stopping you. Other then ethics but who even cares anymore, walking downstairs to Dear ol' Daddy, bingo.

"Mm- Dad-? Can I talk to you?" You mutter walking up behind the sofa he's laying in, playing with your fingers, how do even address this like,

'Oh yeah dad! Can you just bend your daughter over and fuck her till she's blubbering nonsense, you raised her since she was seven but y'know !!'

No.

"Hm, yeah of course, what's the problem bunny?" He says sitting up, glancing behind him to your miserable face, little frown on your lips. He raises a brow seeing your face, you felt all fuzzy feeling your throat get dry, the hell were you supposed to do?

"Uh Dad, can- can you come upstairs" you mutter looking at him, feeling your chest get heavy. Of course dear Daddy doesn't wanna disappoint you so he gets up and walks over to ya

"What's wrong, Hun?" He says, so sweetly fuck. Looken' all concerned for you, just fall into his chest, even though Dad was in shape he had fatass boobs, real nice to put your face in whenever he hugged ya. Just like always as a concerted Daddy does he puts an arm around you, pulling you nice and tight, "Baby?" He says in that same voice, pullin' your face away from his body, looking down at you.

"Can- can we just sit down" you say grabbing his hand forcefully and leading him to the nice leather sofa, you didn't know much about Mom but she really liked expensive shit and this was the only thing at home she bought..

You push him onto his back, his head resting on the arm, he looked kinda confused, like a puppy! You crawl over on top on him, ass rested on his lower pelvis. "Hey Bunny this is a little- whats wrong?" Dad says trying to carefully lift you off of him, awe stupid Daddy actin' like you're just gonna listen to him

"Dad just let me do this- please, you love me right?" You say looking at him in the eyes, pout on your stupid lips, he just nods slowly as a response. Unzippin' his jeans, wow this really is a shitty porno plot.

'Cute stepdaughter seduces and fucks her Dad while Mom isn't home!'

Jesus Christ you fucking creep.

With his pants open pulling out is fat cock, he wasn't hard which kinda hurt, you were being all cute and all dad did was just sit and stare in shock. Like sure you were gropen him and stuff but he could put some effort in it? Whatever doesn't matter-? You sit on his thighs pulling off your night pants, your panties were already wet from earlier, sadly it seemed Dad didn't really wanna reinact your fantasy so you gotta do all the work, flicking your garments to the side, crawling back onto him. Placing your hips over his Dick, and taking it in, feeling his tip touch your cervix "Mm- fuck-" you murmer, taking a second before getting used to it, slowly moving your hips back and forth, feeling ever little movement. It was euphoric, hands on his chest, looking at his face he looked like he was trying to not enjoy it, but you could tell he was. You felt his breath get heavier anytime you went faster, such a good boy.

His fat dick bruising your womb, your walls squeezing against him, you could hear Dad muttering curse words under his breath, made you feel kinda better about this whole thing. Going to your high and getting that numbing feeling, stomach felt warm, brain all fuzzy and messy collapsing onto him, feeling that warm stuff leaking out of you, pulling yourself off Dad, laying on his chest, glancing up at him, seeing his flushed and disturbed face, awe it was so cute!

He probably felt horrible but you felt amazing, fuck best experience. Putting your arms aside his

"I love you Dad.." you spout into his shirt

"Your Mother can't hear about this B-bunny.." he replies, putting one of arms on your back, you could feel his chest go up and down so cute.

#cupidscruel🍡 #leon kennedy #leon resident evil #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy smut #leon smut #infinite darkness leon #infinite darkness #leon kennedy vendetta #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil smut #stepdad!leon #stepdad #di leon #re4 smut #re smut #fic #smut fic #chasing

[pigcowboys]

Hi I hope you're having a wonderful day <3

I was wondering if you could maybe do percy jackson with a daughter of nyx where they are basically the same person personality wise and have a lot of common interests ( sorry self indulging here🤭). They basically both kin each other lmao

THANK YOU <3

pairing: ꒰percy jackson x nyx! female! reader꒱⋆·˚

summary: general hcs for percy with a nyx! s/o

warning(s): mutual pining, nonsensical bickering, mentions of injuries & kisses

a/n: HIII OMG THIS REQUEST IS SO CUTE :)) i tried my best to do what you requested!! i hope you like it!!

request are closed!

literally off the bat i can see the two of you at each other's throats all the time.

you're just too alike there's no way there's not gonna be bickering man.

"i think we should use a different design."

"who put you in charge?"

"the voices in my head, actually"

"literally what."

i imagine percy kind of being put off by you when he'd first get to camp half-blood like

who are you.

i mean it isn't like he's TRYING to be mean, you're just so annoying sometimes yk.

then i feel like one night he'd sneak out of camp to go stargazing and find you near the shore in his spot.

lowkey annoyed by your presence at first but still proceeds to gaze with you silently. you'd strike up a conversation with him and it'd actually go a lot better than he expected it to go.

okay, maybe you're not that bad.

he'd start to approach you more at camp but like not for any reason at all yk. he just enjoys talking to you, i guess.

probably would be overjoyed when he finds out you have similar interests as him.

you two probably stay up all night talking about the most random stuff.

honestly, those talks are probably the moment when he realizes he..like likes you.

you're just chilling and talking about random shit and he laughs at one of your jokes and has to take a moment because he realized that you're honestly just the best person ever.

and then from that point on he's honestly kind of a mess.

you're so cool to him for some reason?? you'd just be living life and he'd probably just be in the background observing you with big ass heart eyes.

"is there something on my face, perce?"

"huh? uh no, what?"

he knows he likes you but just doesn't know how to say it?? i mean, do YOU even like him back..??

aghhhh it's honestly so draining to him.

he's not shy. just kind of stupid when it comes to feelings.

probably tried to "woo" you somehow by buying you ocean related stuff whenever you go out together.

played it off as him just having some change.

he is willing to go bankrupt for you.

i feel like one day he just got tired of dropping hits and just decided to go for it cause like, you've known each other for a minute.

he'd meet you at that star gazing spot and literally just spill all his feelings for you.

"don't say anything but what if i told you you're an amazing person and probably the coolest person i've ever met in my life and that i'm literally head over heels for you because you're smart and funny and pretty and you're just the best?"

"what?"

and you start dating!! woo!!

HES SO SWEET!!!

once you start dating he def gets a bit more of a confidence boost.

always boasting about the fact he's dating you like everyone else doesn't already now from the way he's always clinging to you.

and if you're not into physical touch no worries!! he's completely and totally fine with it!! probably asks permission to give you hugs and hold your hand.

beach dates.

you'd be that one sappy couple who interlocking hands and walks down the beach together UGHH

he would def be the type of guy to go to you after every quest so you can patch him up. do you even know how to patch him up?? probably not! can't he just use some ambrosia?? yes.

doesn't mean he won't stop.

"percy, what the fuck happened!?"

"what do you mean?? :)"

kind of scared of your mother but would never admit it to your face.

i feel like he'd make some kind of big plan to try and kiss you but it'd ultimately fail.

he'd pull up to you with some beautiful ass flowers with a big grin on his face.

would take you to some really secluded spot that he'd decorated with a bunch of different things and homemade food!! (sally helped him.)

things would be going good till it starts to rain.

not that it's a problem for him at all but it kills the freaking mood.

"i'm so sorry.."

"for what?"

"how this turned out, it was supposed to be this big and..romantic thing."

"it's okay, we can have other dates."

"no like..i wanted us to kiss."

"..."

"..."

"who says we can't right now..?"

"oh."

he's in heaven when you finally kiss for the first time!! you're literally so amazing like wtf he got so lucky.

from that point on you two are locked in for life.

he's everywhere you are, you're everywhere he is NO MATTER WHAT.

he's so in love.

#percy jackson fluff #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x you #x reader #x reader fluff #pjo x reader #pjo fluff #pjo headcanon #⋆·˚ #nyx reader

[payasita]

Good job getting ADHD medication! I’m so proud of you :D

thanks so so much im very happy and so hopeful for the first time maybe ever but also it TOOK ME LIKE. A YEAR. A YEAR.

like yall for real?? for real. for real i have been diagnosed since i was like six. (funny story my teacher thought i was on the spectrum so my parents get me tested with the nodes and shit and according to mom, who loves this story, my neurologist did all that and talked to me and then just turned to my mom and went "she's not autistic. she just hates the other kids" but they DID find an adhd diagnosis in there so net win for all of us)

diagnosed since i was SIX. on stimulants until i turned 8, and you know why i got off em? my pediatrician retired. we could not find another who would take our low-income insurance. so i just had to rawdog The Rest Of My Fucking Life. diagnosed when i was six. legally neurodivergent for 20 slutty slutty angry years.

and it still took me like. a few months to get a psych appointment. a few weeks to reaffirm my diagnosis as an adult. a few more weeks for another appointment for meds. he doesnt Want to do meds first, because i must have been doing fine without them if its been two decades, right? i got a job and a car and everything. well gee fuckin shittickers Dr. Brain Guy, just WHAT was my alternative? would you prefer i be maladapted to the point of incapacitation; is that what it takes for someone to be considered? i cheated my way through school. every day after work i sit for an hour in my car because i dont have the executive function to stand up and walk the ten steps to my house. garbage just appears around me. i have three empty bags of hot chip and two cans of sprite on my desk as we speak, neither from today. at that point i hadnt had a debit card for six months because that would have required me to Drive To The Bank, a location that was new to me in this area, so i just did everything on credit. is this all normal? is this fine? am i GOOD, actually, Dr. WeirdBrain?

so we cordially agree that yes i should probably be medicated. i want to do a stimulant. he does not want to put me on a stimulant. "stimulants can mess with your heart," he says, "and you're young, you don't want heart problems." i say ok because i dont want to make him think im just looking for narcotics. even though i am. because they WORK. i agree to try some kind of antidepressant.

the antidepressant gives me tachycardia. i go to the emergency room after reading a heartbeat of, oh, 140 bpm, which is about like double what it normally is and juuuust below the You Are Having A Heart Attack threshold. i get to the ER and the doctor there is very obviously convinced i'm a local addict having some sort of episode. it is the most ironic experience i've had all year and i feel an abrupt and all consuming kinship with those birds in australia that will swoop you and peck at your face for seemingly no good reason.

so yeah, we narrow it down to the antidepressant. as it turns out, these particular meds are known to, semi-commonly, Mess With Your Heart. i have my next appointment with my psych and somehow refrain from pecking his eyes out. he puts me on a noreprinephrine inhibitor(iirc) that isnt actually FDA approved to treat ADHD specifically(i DEFINITELY rc) but it IS given to smokers to help them quit. i dont smoke. i may very well fucking start before this whole ordeal is at the point where someone listens to me

it obviously does a combined total of jack and shit, and the man waffles with this one because he has "had success" using it as treatment for other ADHD patients. he ups the dose. twice. three months on the smoker meds, which are also apparently notorious for destroying your appetite, but they didnt even do THAT. no change to the average amount of hot chip on my desk.

he wants to try quelbree after that. i finally tell him i'm tired of this shit and would like to have more than two hours of usable daylight to function before it all falls to uncontrollable youtube shorts binges and a daily experience i like to call The Weighted Nothings and i would very much like to PLEASE. TRY A STIMULANT.

he's been friendly enough with me over these past four or five or whatever months but at this he gets suddenly very very business-baseline. gives me the whole spiel about the north american shortage. gives me a spiel about how i absolutely cannot, under any circumstances, lose or sell this medication, because they will not refill it if i do. i am sitting here wondering if he he's telling the truth about having other ADHD patients at all like ever in his career, and also, am i nuts or should the "don't sell your prescription drugs" bit apply to EVERYTHING? i dont fuckin know man i just live here

he says he wants a urine test first. its scheduled for two weeks out. i take it.

"hey uh, your piss came back with cannabis in it" "well it'd be weirder if it didn't, we are in california and i am a kitchen manager" "you can't have weed if you want adderall" "fine i'll stop" "we'll schedule you another test in a month" "aight bet" it didnt go exactly like that but this is kind of what the vibe between us has devolved into by this point.

anyway i wait a month and get a good grade in piss. i get the meds prescribed. i go to fill out the prescription

all i really need to say to you are the words "prior authorization error" for most of you to get what happened next.

the psych isnt even aware. i wait another month for our next meeting, which was yesterday. i do not yell at him. he tells me to take it up with the pharmacy, and yell at them. i am going to yell at them.

so i go, and guess what, it actually went through a while ago! NO ONE TOLD ME OR DR. FEEL-BAD OVER HERE. but we can't fill it right now because its a controlled substance so come back in a few hours. hey it's ready where the hell are you? TAKE YOUR METH AND GET OUT

anyway i started it today, reorganized my pantry, and fixed the fire alarm in my hallway that's been chirping at me for a week. i no longer have to wear earplugs to bed.

and with my newfound executive function superpowers, i will be spraying my weed-free piss all over Reagan's grave.

#personal #anyway thanks for the kind words anon #i am going to go lie down #ADHD #long post

[turtle-steverogers]

Help. I’m having Steve thoughts. Talk to me about poor Steve fresh off the serum. He feels wrong in his skin. He feels right in his skin. Everything is so sensitive. He doesn’t know how to work this new body of his and he can’t quite get there. He can’t finish. He’s so frustrated.

Enter Bucky (of course). Haven’t thought how tho. Does Steve works up the courage to ask? To tell him? Does Bucky just know? Does he maybe walk in on something?

But it works with him. Even if this is all new to Bucky as well, somehow he just knows. And he’s slow and gentle but also steady and sure and he gets Steve relaxed and he gets him there. Couple of times 😮‍💨👀

And the thing about it is that Steve's just so sensitive now. Before he had the serum, he had the opposite problem. It took a lot to get him going, and he'd always have to maintain a certain level of energy to keep the pleasure cresting until he finished. So going hard on himself is what he's used to.

But the serum. God, the serum makes him so fucking sensitive it hurts. But when he slows down, it aches. It isn't enough. And there's so much else he's trying to learn how to adjust to, that he gives up after a while trying to figure out how to make his goddamn dick cooperate with him. After a while, he just accepts that he can't find that happy medium.

Until one day they're on leave. Somewhere in England, some shitty countryside inn, and it's late. It's late and Steve's tired and he just wants to feel good. Plus, Bucky's out for the night with some of the guys, so he figures now's a good time as any to try jerking off again.

Except he's still way too goddamn sensitive, and he's left with a heaving chest and aching cock and no relief.

He's so frustrated, that he barely notices the door unlocking until it's too late and Bucky's walking in, looking a little more than tipsy and all loose edges. Tie undone and shirt untucked and fuck, he's hot. His hair isn't gelled and Steve's got his dick in hand and--

"Oh shit," Bucky blurts, eyes wide as he takes in Steve, half naked on the bed, cock hard and leaking. Steve has the grace to blush, at least. "Fuck, sorry pal, I can... go..."

He pauses, licking his lips. His gaze is fixed on Steve's cock, and it isn't like they haven't seen each other naked before, but never like this. Never spread out and wanting.

Steve swallows. He's frozen. He can't seem to move. Put himself away. Have the grace to cover up. And there's some part of him that doesn't want to, because there's always been this thread between him and Bucky. A low simmering fire that flared every now and then. An unspoken tension beyond the understanding that they'd burn the world down for each other, that there was something more.

"Don't go," Steve croaked. Bucky's eyes widened, flicking back up to Steve's. He steps in, closes the door.

"Ah, for-- you know. Privacy," he fumbles, and Steve laughs, and fuck, he wants. He wants Bucky so bad.

"C'mere?" He asks, stroking himself again. Shuddering.

Bucky's eyes darken. "Yeah," he agrees, tugging his tie off and kicking off his shoes, shedding his clothes until he's nearly naked as well, and Steve's heart is pounding now, because are they doing this? Are they really doing this?

"You're fucking beautiful," Bucky says, reverent as he crawls onto the bed, and it's like two puzzle pieces slotting together. Inhabiting the same small space, just like they always have, even if they're different. Fundamentally changed. "Always have been, but fuck, I thought you'd never ask."

And fuck, now they've said it. Now it's out there, plain and simple.

"I haven't been able to finish," Steve admits, face turning a dark shade of red. He hitches a breath when Bucky runs his fingers over his lower stomach, ghosting downward, toward Steve's cock. "I'm too-- it's too sensitive, with the serum and-- oh fuck."

His eyes roll back as Bucky takes him in hand, and shit, he should have known Bucky would just know. He's stroking him now, slow and gentle, but firm enough that Steve's lower stomach starts to tighten, and yeah. Yeah, that's it. That's fucking perfect, he thinks.

"I've gotcha," Bucky murmurs, leaning down, kissing him. Heated and loving all at once.

And when Steve finally finishes, silent scream caught on Bucky's lips, he knows that he's safe. That even in this new skin, Bucky can make him feel like himself. Same bones. Same heart.

#steve rogers #stucky #bucky barnes #mikey answers #mikey screams into the void

[orshii]

bitter and sweet

Author: orshii

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x female reader

Warnings: Use of word "fuck", smoking, alcohol consumption

Word count: 2k

Summary: When you finally quit your job, you need a distraction. Hongjoong happens to be that.

A/N: Am- hi? This is totally new to me, and I would've never uploaded this story, if it weren't for my bestie @bvidzsoo (ly). She kept saying, how good this story was, so Ig I'm here? I really hope you will enjoy it, as much as I did when I wrote this little drabble. Recently I am very whipped for Hongjoong, so yeah...I just had to write this. Anyways, have fun. xoxo orshii

After a whole month of living like a robot: starting work early in the morning, when the sun wasn't even up yet, until when it hid behind again the buildings of our little town; I slowly started to feel like I was losing my mind. The feeling was similar to when your days are just as monotone as the clock on your wall, never changing its course the opposite way. You become one with your regular human life, which is always clouded, always grey just like the clouds above you; there are no colors.

It started becoming overwhelming, I started getting tired of this feeling of emptiness; I felt the void spread through my body every single fucking day. That's when I decided to quit my job, which wasn't even my dream job. I have been working at a fucking bakery as a cashier, of course it wasn't my dream job, whose would it be…

It was a Friday when I quit, so, as I was an unemployed nobody, the best idea was to celebrate that, wasn’t it? My friends were excited to hear my sudden proposal of going to a party, which was held by the town’s biggest brat, Jung Wooyoung; but I didn't care, I needed to get laid as soon as possible. I just wanted an escape from this shit reality, and not to think about what was going to happen in the future now that I was without a job.

 We decided to dress up pretty and sexy for the night with the girls. I was wearing black ripped jeans with fishnets underneath, and a black crop top with some cuts on it here and there, accompanied with my black boots and some accessories.

As we arrived in front of the house of said brat, Wooyoung, we went inside deep into the crowd of swaying bodies, which were flowing with the music. The music was so loud that we couldn't even hear our own voice, the beat punching our chests harshly. The first thing we had to do was to drink, of course, so we headed to the kitchen. We could barely see the furniture inside the kitchen due to the smog filling the air, coming from the people smoking this and that. Finally, somehow we found our love, the meaning of our night:  alcohol. We started to take some tequilas shots, and anything else we found, honestly. We just wanted to get drunk. Me, at least.

Eventually, I somehow found myself around the swaying bodies in the living room, but my friends were nowhere to be found.

I started to dance following the flow of the music; I felt like I could finally breathe, my latest months were hard and I just needed to forget all of the shit that’s happened.

At some point, I felt like somebody was watching me, I don't know how, I’d call it perhaps intuition.

When my eyes finally found the owner of two staring lustful eyes, my breath hitched. I have never seen this man in my entire life before, but as I watched him, my heart just started to race like it never has. My heart didn't even race like this when a fucking bear started to chase me, and that’s no fun.

I felt dizzy, maybe because of the influence of the alcohol or I didn’t know, but the sudden emotions started hitting me like I was a fucking punch bag.

The man was sitting on the couch, he was a bit far, but I could see his devilish smile from where I stood. It’s not supposed to be a joke; but with the red lights of the party, he looked like the fucking devil himself. His raven-black hair fell on his forehead, reaching his eyes, making his glare even more intense as he held a can of beer, leaning over his knees.

I haven't moved since my eyes landed on him but somebody, suddenly, bumped into me, and if I remember the guy's name correctly, it’s San. But I was glad, because I somehow found myself back to reality again, as if the last few minutes were in slow-motion.

I tried not to look at the stranger again, since my friends finally found me and we started to dance together, laughing and goofing around. I would be lying if I said my eyes never searched for the stranger again as he had moved from the couch. I felt a bit disappointed that I might never see him again.

And there was a chance that I actually might see him, and after a while, I suddenly felt two warm hands around my waist. I don't know how, don't ask, but I just knew it was the stunning stranger guy from the couch, with whom I had a staring contest like half an hour ago.

We just weirdly danced to the music, feeling the rhythm as it led our bodies in synchrony. It was weird because he was a total stranger but, somehow, I felt safe in his warm arms. I slowly turned around to finally look at the owner of the warm hands, and I was fucking right. I felt like I was going to melt right then and there like ice cubes on a hot summer day.

Why? Because he was the hottest guy I have ever seen in my life, and I'm not joking, I would never joke about things like that. He looked ethereal, and I don't know what led him to me, but I thank God for it, because it was worth every moment. I looked into his eyes as he was glaring at me sharply. I couldn't read his expression, but I saw a small smirk slip onto his slim lips, so, I reached my arms around his neck. Yes, I felt comfortable like this, after all, he was still holding my waist.

“Hi.” I spoke suddenly. Don't even ask me why I had the courage to even say something to him. That night, my soul has left my body surely.

“Hey.” He said with a low tone, leaning close to my ear so I could hear him. I felt shivers running through my body.

“Wanna smoke?” I asked him with questioning eyes.

He smiled, “Yeah, of course.”

And then, he grabbed my hands and pulled me towards the backyard.

I looked back at my friends, but they were just laughing and shouted, “Go get him!”

It made me laugh as I followed the stranger.

As we finally arrived outside, I felt relieved. The weather was nice, I finally could hear my own voice and I got to inhale some fresh air.

We stopped at the terrace of the house, and I leaned my back against one of the pillars as the stranger across from me did the same thing.

We were quiet for a bit as I enjoyed the fresh air, and I felt him watching me. It wasn't an awkward quiet, it was a comfortable one. I stared back at him, taking in the sight of him as his outfit screamed elegance, but at the same time it was casual; he was wearing all black.

“Aren't you going to smoke?” He asked suddenly, breaking the quiet.

“Nah, I don't smoke.” I said with a serious face.

The stranger looked at me, his eyebrows scrunching together in confusion.

“Then why did you want to come out to—smoke?”

I just shrugged, “I just needed some fresh air, but to not disappoint you—” I started to search for something in my pocket, “I have this.”

I showed him the colorful elf bar, raising it up to his face.

He started to laugh loudly; it was low toned and the sound tingled through my whole body. I loved his laugh.

“Okay.” He nodded, “Then I’m going to smoke a real cigarette.”

He spoke while still smiling as he reached for his cigarettes in his pocket. Damn, he was actually smoking smoking; that’s a red flag, but I like it.

He slowly pulled out a cigarette from the package, and took it in between his parted thin lips, his gaze never leaving mine, only when he lit it up.

I decided to smoke the elf bar which was in my hands. It tasted like a tangle of freshly picked raspberries and blueberries from the wild fields, accompanied with the taste of dark red cherries. I loved the sweet taste as it slowly went down into my lungs, spreading the sweetness everywhere, and then, I exhaled it slowly out into the clear air.

The guy in front of me was staring at my lips as the sweet fog came out from my parted lips.

“Is it good?” He asked, gazing at me.

“It is. It’s sweet, unlike yours.” I said pointing at the cigarette in his hands.

He looked down at it.

“It's not that bad—wanna taste it?” He asked me frowning with a smirk on his lips.

And the look he was giving me sent me to Hell, just for me to return as Lucifer. That's why I was suddenly so bold, out of my mind.

“Do you want to taste this?” I pointed at my elf bar, avoiding his question on purpose.

“Yeah, why not?” He said, stepping closer to me.

I stared at him as an idea came to my mind.

“Wanna double shotgun?” I asked pointing at my elf bar and his cigarette, watching him with inviting eyes.

Just the idea of it was already so exciting, now imagine actually doing it…with a stranger, whom, despite having just met, it felt like I have known him my whole life.

“Hell, yes.” He said in a low tone, it was almost like a thunder. He stepped closer to me, our bodies almost touching, but it seemed like he didn't want to overstep some unsaid boundaries.

And so, I slowly inhaled from the elf bar, inhaling it deep down into my lungs as he did the same with his cigarette, burning the end of it with his inhale.

As we both were ready, we leaned into each other’s bodies, our lips almost touching. We exhaled the smoke at the same time as it tumbled through our parted lips, just to meet with the other's soft lips, inhaling the other's taste. I breathed him in, held it in my lungs, wanting to keep it there forever.

“It's so bitter.” I whispered still leaning close, slowly exhaling the smoke of his cigarette.

“It's so sweet.” He whispered back to me, leaning even closer in, gazing at me with dark eyes, which were telling me so much yet nothing at the same time.

“Wanna taste it on your sweet lips.” He said, reaching out his thumb to brush it against my lower lip.

“Then what are you waiting for?” I whispered against his bitter lips, closing my eyes slowly.

He slowly grabbed my chin and tilted it upwards, and then leaned in to brush his lips against mine. I could taste the bitterness of his cigarette on his lips, blending with the sweet taste of my own lips, which the elf bar has left behind.

Sweet and bitter collided, it was like our own two worlds colliding: he tasted bitter, but somehow, he brought some sweetness into my grey world, painting it slowly full with colors as he brushed his lips against mine.

“You haven’t told me your name.” I said after our lips separated from each other, desiring for more. I wanted to taste him forever.

“Hongjoong.” He whispered, our lips almost touching, “And what's your name, pretty?”

“Y/N” I said, and he smiled at me sweetly as our lips collided again, never wanting to separate.

He filled me up with passion. He made me want to finally step out of my monotone life. I felt like I was alive again. He made my grey life colorful again.

Later on, we were passed out in the back of his car…how’d we let it get this far, I don’t know.

#orshii #hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong #hongjoong oneshot #kim hongjoong oneshot #hongjoong fluff #kim hongjoong fluff #hongjoong angst #hongjoong smut #kim hongjoong smut #hongjoong ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez smut #ateez oneshot #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #kim hogjoong you are killing me

[badasgirlfriend]

paper rings ₊ ⊹ - bada lee social media au

the nasty bitches - golden squad - extras

masterlist

"Hi Y/N, welcome to Dwight High School!" said a girl with bright blonde hair and warm smile, greeting me right when I stepped out of the principal's office. "I'm the school's president Park Sieun, and it's my pleasure to give you a tour today. Let's get started!"

I was relieved that my time with the principal was finally over, he was beginning to annoy me with the school's history and how it was formed. Being a new student is tiring

And boring

I nodded along as Sieun explained every little detail, and when Sieun said "everything," she really meant it

"This is your locker" she said with a bright smile as she pulled the locker key out of her pocket and handed it to me. "I'll take you to the cafeteria next."

In my opinion, Sieun was a nice girl. I can see why everyone respected her so much. Everyone greeted her with smiles and happy looks every time they turned a corner or passed someone else.

She's the school's president after all

However, this all felt like an act. The whole nice, bubbly girl personality felt fake, like a mask being worn by a much harsher person beneath. The kindness did not feel like genuine concern. I'd notice after every smile she gave to everyone an eye roll came after it

But I could be wrong who am I to judge

"Alright" Sieun said with a clap of her hands, prepared to explain the cafeteria. However, she couldn't finish her sentence because someone shoved her hard in the shoulder, making her stumble a bit.

I looked behind her, my eyebrows furrowing in concern and surprise. I was struck by an amazing sight.

Three beautiful girls stood behind us, their flawless appearance capturing my attention and making me unable to look away. They were breathtakingly perfect, their beauty overshadowing anything she'd previously seen.

They were wearing the school uniforms like everyone else, but somehow they made it look so expensive

The smirking tall girl who probably shoved Sieun smirked at her "Sorry miss president, I didn't see you there." she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she made it clear that she had done it intentionally.

The two other girls began laughing and that was it for Sieun, she was fuming

"I can report you three-" Sieun attempted to make her way outside through the crowd of students, but the dark haired girl who stood in the middle of the two other girls blocked her path. She moved over to Sieun's left, completely preventing her from passing. The girl's smile was gone now

"You and I both know you dont meet the basic requirments to be the president of this school" she said coldly and even I was scared for Sieun "So know your fucking place"

She then turned to me and looked "New kid hm" she paused "Cute bag" was all she said and then they were gone

"That fucking bi-" Sieun stopped herself, taking a deep breath as she tried to regain her composure.

She then turned to look at me me smiled slightly. "Sorry about that."

I mumbled a "it's okay" as my attention was drawn to the three girls who were sitting in the middle of the cafeteria. Everyone seemed to be looking at them with different emotions, ranging from hatred, jealousy, admiration, and even more.

"Who are those girls?"

Sieun scoffed at her question. "I thought it was obvious," she responded with a dismissive tone.

"They go by many names, people call them the queen bees, the cunts, the plastics, you choose. But my favorite one is the nasty bitches."

Sieun spoke with pure annoyance in her voice "They make everyone's life a living hell. The three of them talk shit about each other but still stick together. They will do anything when it comes to ruining someone's day, whether it's gossiping about them or spreading rumors just to ruin them."

"The pinkish girl, that's Jang Wonyoung"

"She's the quiet one. She usually only follows what the other two do. Don't get me wrong, she's still a fucking cunt but I think it's all just an act for popularity." Sieun stopped and thought about it "She's a whore she fucks every man she sees I wouldn't be too surprised if she fucked her friends boyfriends

"Don't say that" I murmured

The blonde shrugged "It's true. Anyway she usually does the dirty work. There's a rumor that one girl called her friend annoying, and she ordered Wonyoung to get them suspended. Wonyoung then stole the school's winning medals and put them in the poor girl's locked locker"

"The blonde one, that's Park Chaeyoung also known as Rose"

"She should be grateful of her boyfriend, she spends all his money. Her favorite thing? To spread rumors so be careful." Sieun told me "She's the devil's spawn"

Sieun continued "She's the most backstabbing bitch you'll ever meet. If it means ruining your entire life, she'll do it in a second if it'll get her something good. The only goal in her life is to be like her friend, the one with brown hair. Everything her friend does is her life, she emulates everything from her. It's like they are the same person, she's so dependent on her."

Both our eyes moved to the only one who was left

"Speaking about the devil, that's Takahashi Yui"

"The leader of the group, as you might say, for some reason, people idolize the ground she walks on. Whatever Yui wants, Rose and Wonyoung will immediately agree to it. They're her dolls." Sieun's tone turned darker as she spoke about the Japanese girl. "She's the fakest person ever, just because she has money she thinks she can buy everything and everyone."

Sieun took another deep breath, the anger in her voice growing more intense with each word. "She's the worst person out of all of them, if you just look at her the wrong way, she'll use all of her influence to destroy you. She is the true devil of that group"

"Wow" was all I could say as I watched the Yui and Womyoung laughing loudly at Chaeyoung who was actively teasing the poor girl who was forced to sit with them.

My attention was caught by a loud burst of laughter coming from across the hall. I turned my head in the direction of the sound and saw a group of people laughing and having fun, seemingly without a care in the world.

"What about them?" I ask pointing at their table

Sieun turned to look and she almost melted "Oh they're the golden squad"

#talking with eli #bada lee #bada lee edit #bada lee imagine #bada lee fanfic #bada lee x reader #swf #bada lee x oc #gxg #paper rings smau #bada lee imagines #bada lee bebe #bada lee x y/n #bada lee au #bada lee fanfiction #lee bada

[toki-hotel]

CAN YOU DO NSFW ONE SHOT FOR GUSTAV AND HIM X READER ARE LIKE FOOLING AROUND IN HIS HOTEL ROOM AND SHIT 🤭🤭🤭 (I'm so delulu 4 him)

Yessss I love Gustav 😭

Warnings: smut, fem!reader, unprotected sex

Synopsis: sleepy sloppy sex with the love of our life.

~

After a long day of flying, Gustav and you had arrived at your hotel. Exhaustion weighed heavy in your guys' bones but so had the heat in your stomachs. Traveling with the band was amazing but the lack of privacy could be annoying. The delay of touching each other was finally over.

Gustav swiped the key card through the door. A beep confirmed it had unlocked, so with a heavy sigh he swung open the door and dragged your suitcases through. You followed behind, slipping off your shoes and jumping onto the bed, "Oh I'm so happy to have a bed!"

"Me too, but I'm happier to finally have you alone to myself." Gustav laid beside you with his hands behind his head and a soft smile gracing his lips. You turned to look at him and couldn't hold back your own grin. The tension between you two had been building slowly and you can feel it fluttering your heart with anticipation.

You crawl closer to him and lay on your side with your arm and leg thrown over him. A finger traces his jaw to point it towards yourself. Soft lips brush against each other. Gustav lets a groan slip out as his palm falls down to your hip. Soft kisses become more passionate but stay at the same slow steady pace. The need between your thighs grows hot and you squeeze him closer with them.

A sudden movement from your drummer pulls you fully on top of him and a giggle bursts from you. Gustav smiles against your own. His hands run up and down your body, pulling, squeezing anything he can grasp at. The touch somehow eases and ignites the fire more.

The two of you become a mess of heavy breathing and soft grinding. His hard cock presses against the seam of your jeans in the most delicious way, and you can't seem to get enough.

"Fuck, feels so good..." you whisper against him and he hums back in return. His hands slip under your shirt and bra to play with your nipples. From atop him you see his focused expression, brows furrowed and cheeks pink. He twists and pinches your swollen buds until your hips stutter from the electricity flowing from your spine down to the tips of your toes.

Soon it becomes all too much. You need more and don't wait to ask. You know he would do this until you're crying and begging for more, but you're too tired from the traveling to go through that. Pulling away from Gustav you strip yourself of your clothes. During this his eyes follow every movement and inch of skin that is revealed. He undoes his jeans and boxers, pulling them down enough to give you both enough access.

"So beautiful." The man before you puffs out.

You return to your spot above him and rest your weight so the two of you connect. Hardness and wetness come together. His hands grasp your hips and his own start to rut up into you. Again your eyes are focused on his face, the same expression as before, but now with his lip caught between his teeth. His own eyes are locked on where the two of you connect. You follow his gaze down and can't help but moan at the sight. His pink tip is glistening and peaking through the crest of your folds with every soft thrust.

"C'mere." Gustav grabs the back of your head to pull you down into a slow mess of tongues colliding. Your bare breasts press into his warm chest. The steady rubbing of your clit and his tip isn't enough, you need more and so your own hips start to thrust with him. Wet squelches come from between you two.

The harder you move the more his cock catches at your opening, with an angle of your hips you allow it to slide all the way in. A harsh burn is felt as his thick length stretches your walls. You both moan together and the same pace is kept as before, slow but heavy.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." is whispered through your heavy breathing and into the side of Gustav's damp neck, you had turned your head onto his shoulder when the kissing became to much for your lungs.

"I know baby, me too."

His cock was pushing into the sensitive spot of your walls, closer and closer to the brink of pure pleasure. You can tell the man beneath you wasn't too far off also because of the way his nails started to dig into the soft plush of your ass.

"I'm so close." You whisper.

"Touch yourself for me."

With his encouragement, you slipped a hand between you two. Your digits swiped tiny circles on your clit and your toes curled.

Gustav pulled you flush against himself with his arms wrapped tight against your back. His feet propped up on the mattress to help pump his cock into your soaked pussy. The final seconds of your hazy lust were started by his sudden movements. The clenching of your walls set him off and with a deep groan, you feel him push all the way into you. His cock twitches and fills you up until he leaks out of you.

"scheiße, now I'm really tired..." With that Gustav pulls the duvet that found its way to the foot of the bed over the two of you, and lets you rest atop him. He places gentle kisses on the top of your head and the exhaustion finally takes its toll; you both fall asleep wrapped up in each other.

AN: Plz let me know what you guys think! Was this one too short, is there anything I could improve on? Also, go ahead and request if you'd like.

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel smut #tokio hotel x reader #gustav schäfer #gustav schafer x reader #gustav schafer smut

[royjamierot]

Roy and Jamie sharing a cold peach on their front steps on a hot summer day. (On the intimacy of sharing fruit)

this has been in my inbox foreverrr thank you for sending it because ive been thinking about it literally constantly. i wrote this and im so tired so im sorry if it's terrible hope you enjoy though!

Roy doesn't know how he ended up here, staring at Jamie, who's laughing with him on his front stoop. They had finished with practice, and grabbed some fruit from Roy's kitchen before walking outside to enjoy the weather as it cooled in the evening. They were talking about Jamie's stint on Lust Conquers All, and now Jamie is laughing at a comment Roy made about one of his costars.

"You know, people still come up to me to tell me they think me and Amy shoulda gotten married," Jamie and Roy both laugh at the absurdity. "I don't think I even have her number. I don't know her last name."

"The yoga mums always said that. They're always going on and on about how you and Amy just clicked. I never understood any of that shit, they told me it was- what is that dumb fucking-"

"Body science?" Jamie finishes for him smugly.

"Body science." Roy growls. "I don't understand what the fuck that means."

"Well, I'm fucking fit right?" Roy sees Jamie extend his arms in a questioning movement, and for a moment Roy doesn't realize Jamie is looking for a response. Roy glares at him. He doesn't answer seriously, too afraid of revealing something he shouldn't.

"You know what I think of your looks." Roy says, and Jamie laughs. It's a fucking lovely sight. Jamie's laugh is loud and unabashed, just like the man it belongs to. Roy feels his own lips lilt without his permission. Roy looks down at the soft peach in his hands, and murmurs something about Jamie's ugly hair. He doesn't mean it. He knows he doesn't.

"Everyone thinks I'm fit, you're just contrarian." Jamie nudges him, his eyebrows raised, and Roy looks back up at him. The sun catches his eyes and Roy notices flecks of yellow he's never seen before. He freezes slightly, something in Roy's body taken off guard. The skin of the peach is molded under the pressure of his hand tensing.

"Big word for a prat like you." Roy snipes back, hand relaxing, the marks from his grip left behind in the ripe fruit.

"Fuck off." Jamie says it offhandedly, without hesitation, and he fucking smiles too. Roy wonders when they got to the point that they both know he doesn't mean it.

"Anyways, body science. No matter what your dark-ages gecko brain tells you, I'm fit as fuck, and so was Amy. That's body science. Two fit people existing in the same room." Jamie illustrates his point with a nod at the end of his sentence, and a half serious look, like he's really educating Roy on something.

"That cannot be it." Roy almost laughs at the absurdity.

"Nah, it is mate. Isaac explained it to me." Jamie assures.

"I've heard Isaac talk about it and he did not fucking say that."

"Okay maybe that's my explanation of it, but that's what body science is on a show like Lust Conquers All. The whole show is based on body science."

"Do you mean sexual tension?"

"No, that's different, I have that with everyone." Jamie grins at him, and Roy rolls his eyes.

"You're a right twat." Roy says.

"You still have me around." Jamie tells him, like they're not sitting around hanging around even though their practice has been done for over an hour.

"I'm not sure why." He says it, but he does know why.

"Who would you take your anger out on every morning?"

"Some other dickhead who deserved it."

"Aw, don't say that, I thought we had something special." Jamie makes eyes at him that would look somehow more in place on a puppy, but also somehow fit Jamie.

Roy just looks at him, and shakes his head. Jamie takes a bite of his own peach, undented and orange and ripe.

He takes a big bite out of the side of the peach, and Roy watches him chew for a moment before he notices everything about Jamie and has to look away.

"Fuck, that's good." Jamie basically fucking moans and Roy isn't a strong enough man to not look back.

The juice of the peach drips down Jamie's well sculpted jaw as he takes another bite. It almost drips off entirely but instead falls on his jawline. Roy's fingers crave to reach out and wipe it off. They don't. Instead, he runs his fingers over the indents in his own fruit.

Jamie takes another bite, and notices Roy just watching him.

"This peach is fucking lush, you should have yours." Jamie advises through a mouthful. It does nothing to help the situation on his chin and his lips, suddenly shiny and sticky with the juice of the fruit. Roy can't find it within himself to look away, or to stop holding his own peach too tightly, damaging the skin ever so slightly.

It takes him aback, how much he notices the juice on his face.

Jamie hums after his bite is finished. Roy looks away when Jamie almost catches him staring. He looks down at the peach in his hand and the marks he's made in it. Holding it up to his lips, he takes a bit. His face scrunches. It's too soft, and slightly sour.

"Mine's no good. Overripe." He turns the peach over in his hands, the deep marks from little pressure making sense. The fruit is almost mush in his hands. He sets it on the concrete knowing he can't eat anymore.

"Shit. Try mine." Jamie holds his peach out, and Roy can't look at it. Why would he? Jamie is right here in front of him.

"I'm not eating your half eaten scraps."

"No, you don't get it, it's the best peach I've had in my life, you gotta try it." Jamie insists, shiny juice still coating his lips and chin. Roy wants to lick it off.

His brain goes fuzzy, the way it does when his body overrides his ever working mind, and does something stupid. There's one thought in his head, and it's Jamie.

"Okay." Roy murmurs. His hands move of their own accord, and one finds itself cupping Jamie's chin, pulling him closer to Roy. Jamie goes with his hand.

"Tell me to fuck off again. Tell me you don't want this." Roy tells Jamie, their breath mingling from their few inches of space, their noses almost bumping.

"I want this." Jamie says, and Roy is gone. He kisses Jamie like he's trying to consume him whole, trying to taste him. He bites Jamie's bottom lip like it's the fruit itself. Jamie smiles against him. It's so good he doesn't think the fruit could possibly be better. His thumb rubs Jamie's chin, and he pulls away. Jamie instinctively chases him, and Roy smiles.

Roy's thumb collects the dripping juice from Jamie's chin, and he tastes it.

"Mm. Good."

Jamie stares at him, shaky grin occupying his face, and he holds up the peach.

"Try it." Roy takes a bite, and it's good but he was right. It's not comparable to the taste of Jamie.

"Good. Not you though." He murmers though half lidded eyes, diving in for another kiss.

#royjamie #mine #asks #fics

[whatwouldsylwrite]

hockey!Abby x dancer!reader pt4

pt3, pt3.5

Tags: modern au, fluff, fem!reader, shy reader, reader is into sexy/girly dances, Abby is a sweetheart, switching pov

Notes: swearing, kissing, kind of smutty? They get worked up and it's described explicitly, but nothing really happens. So if you don't want to read it, stop reading after King Princess is mentioned and scroll down to the very end. Gossiping, because that's a fundamental female bonding experience and if you think Abby doesn't like gossip you're wrong. 

I fucking forgot the phrase "dance studio" for the past three chapters. So I changed it here and maybe will edit it in previous chapters, just a heads-up. 

Also I’m a dance nerd (duh), so I added some links to the choreos reader is dancing. Let me know if it's uncomfortable to read now. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

This evening Abby felt restless, like something was keeping her from doing anything. She couldn't concentrate long enough, switching between things - the pile of dishes was abandoned after the third cup, her homework was opened on her laptop but only finished halfway. She was bored out of her mind.

It's been a week since the party, and you've been texting each other every day: either it was a funny tiktok or complaining about classes or asking advice on the outfits (definitely not thirst traps from both of you, no) or heads-up about any changes on campus. Abby texted you first to find out if you got home safely, and after that it just snowballed into 5am drunk conversation and this conversation never stopped. Abby found you were easy to talk to and you didn't get angry or upset when she didn't reply for a long time. But during this week you both were so busy you weren't able to meet up even in the university centre - Jesse needed a change in schedule due to his job, and now the hockey team had practice at a different time.

Maybe that was why Abby felt so restless? She just missed you?

Well, Abby knew only one way to get some energy out (two, technically, but her head was filled with you, so she'd probably get even more frustrated from not seeing you), so she picked up her gym bag and went to the gym. 

Somehow lifting weights got her mind in order: she needed to concentrate on her technique, but she didn't have to think any big smart thoughts, her head half-empty, Ramones screaming in her ears. Abby felt satisfied with her workout, so she took a photo in the mirror and sent it to you. You didn't answer right away, so Abby put her phone away and went to hit the showers, pretending she wasn't waiting for your reply.

The hot water helped her relax, and Abby left the shower feeling refreshed and pleasantly tired with an ache in her muscles. She changed and checked her phone - still no answer from you. Abby sat her phone aside and started packing her things when she heard music.

Locker rooms were next to the dance studio - that was one of the reasons why the hockey team had to go past the dance studio in order to enter the rink. (It was highly inefficient, but the whole building was built just to torture everyone - even the door to the dance studio was always open because the ventilation was absolute shit.)

Could it mean?...

Abby recognised the song - it was one of your more cute than sexy routines, and it meant you were here.

Abby's heartbeat picked up and she felt nervous - she hadn't seen you for a week and she wasn't emotionally prepared to see you dancing.

But Abby really wanted to see you. So she packed her things, checked if she looked good, grabbed her bag and went to the dance studio.

The thing was: the cultural studies paper was fucking insufferable. It was stressing you out, and when something was stressing you out, you did what did best - you avoided it. So after avoiding your laptop like it was infected, you decided to avoid your apartment altogether and go work on a new routine. That old Billie Eilish song you had a creative block on? Forget it, the choreo just came to you in an hour. 

So you took a key to the dance studio, threw your bag on the floor and got to work. You saw the notification from Abby, but you assumed it was a meme so you decided to answer later (preferably already in bed).

You needed to warm up first and the Twit was next in the queue, so you let it play. The choreo wasn't too complicated and you purposely avoided some of the parts, so it should work as a warmup. 

♪Twit twit twit twit

I don't like it

Nobody likes it♪

You started moving your shoulders in small cute up-and-downs and then moved on to your steps: the whole choreography was bouncy and wavy and kinda jumpy, but you liked that it was playful and worked so well when the moves were not exhausting or demanding, but even simple? It didn't take long to learn this dance. 

The part you liked the most was closer to an end, just before the final sequence, when you could just jump around and twirl and shake your ass all you want without playing a role. 

The song ended and the next song started to play and you rushed to turn it off (slumber party, uncensored, you'd die before letting it play through the whole centre). The first line played, but then music stopped and you sighed in relief.

"Do you have a dance for it too?" 

You jumped, embarrassed, and turned to Abby who was standing in the door frame, smiling. She was dressed in a hoodie that looked super comfy and black joggers, her hair was tied in a bun, still wet. She clearly saw your panic and now was having fun at your misery. 

But you saw her and you didn't care - all you wanted was to get closer, so you stood up and went up to her, smiling bashfully. 

"I want to do one, but this song is not suitable for a big audience." You said and you stood as close to Abby as it was appropriate, enjoying the way she was taller than you, making you feel like- like a lady. 

"It has a clean version." Abby smiled as she put your hair away from your face. "Hi."

"Hi." You giggled, unable to look away from Abby's face. God she was so fucking pretty. "I didn't know you were here."

"I was at the gym. I sent you a picture." 

"Oh shit. I haven't seen it yet." 

You ran to grab your phone and opened your dms, just to choke on air: Abby was so hot and so- so- damn there wasn't a word to describe what was happening to you. It felt like your insides rearranged just from looking at this photo. 

You looked up at Abby, as she unashamedly enjoyed your reaction.

"Fuck you." You laughed as Abby tilted her head bashfully. "It's unfair."

"Seems fair to me." She grinned playfully. 

"Um. Do you want to stay? I just came, and I wanted to work on my new routine, but-" I'll do anything if you stay. "I can dance something for you? Like the hockey guys list, but Abby list."

Abby's brain stopped functioning. To stay here alone with you and watch you dance what she wanted you to dance? Fuck. Fuck. 

It meant watching all your arches, spins, shakes directly, not like Abby was used to, watching you from the side or through the mirror. She knew she was setting herself up with the sweetest torture, the biggest tease, but-

"Yeah, sure." 

Abby put her bag on the floor and went closer to you, while you were looking for your dancing playlist. 

"Obviously, if you wanna see some of Ellie's routines, I can, but it won't be as good as if it was her."

"Why?"

"I don't have the body type. It looks funny." 

"No, you look amazing when you dance." Abby said, and you turned to her, your faces too close but not close enough. Abby looked at your lips, thinking if it would be a right thing to do, to kiss you now.

"You like my dancing?"

"Are you serious, (y/n)?" Abby wasn't entirely sure if it was a genuine question or if you were flirting. "You're the only reason I come here after practice."

You blushed adorably and Abby couldn't resist anymore. She cupped your face and kissed you, sweet and gentle, careful not to turn it into something more heated. She just wanted to feel you in her hands, to hold you like something precious, just because she fucking missed you. 

You pulled away with a small smile, and something in Abby melted when you held her face with your fingertips, all sweet and light.

“I just thought you came here for Ellie.” You murmured, smiling and not moving away. 

“I did the first time, because she deserves to be made fun of for her crush on Dina.” Abby rolled her eyes and you giggled.

“I mean, she did make a whole duet routine with that Dove Cameron song just for her and Dina, so I’m not defending her.”

“She did what?” Abby couldn’t believe what she just heard. What was wrong with Williams? “O my god.” Abby full on facepalmed, feeling second-hand embarrassment. Ellie really embraced "I'm cringe but I'm free" mindset when it came to her crushes.

“Yeah, I think she tried to show Dina she was better than Jesse? To be fair, it did work.” 

“What?” Was Abby living under a fucking rock? How did she miss all of this? “What happened?”

“I don’t know what exactly happened, but she broke up with Jesse like, two weeks ago. And he’s not handling it well, that’s why your schedule changed, he doesn’t want to see Dina.”

“WHAT?” Now this shit was getting ridiculous. Jesse didn’t tell anyone! “The fuck? He said his boss asked him to work different shifts!”

“What? No, he lied. He literally told Dina he couldn’t see her with Ellie and he needed a break or something.”

“Motherfucker. It’s not like their relationship was going anywhere, just get over it.” 

“Right? They were already breaking up like they had a schedule, it wouldn’t have worked anyway.” You paused as you went through your playlist. “Okay, what do you want me to dance?”

Abby blinked. She had a feeling it was a trick question, and she also couldn’t remember the names to any songs that weren’t super popular.

“Which one is your favourite?” 

“It’s hard. Let’s just see what is going to play if I feel like it - or if you like it - I’ll do it.”

“Isn’t it 'Slumber Party' right now?” Abby smirked and watched how you blushed. 

“I can find a clean version and just improvise if you want.” You said, now clearly being coy. 

"The clean version is lame." 

You laughed and started going through your playlist. Abby recognised most of them, and if she liked pain, she'd have stopped you on some of them, but she still thought she could survive this. 

You wanted to dance something that Abby would like, so you tried to pick something you didn't make a lot of mistakes in. You were nervous and you didn't really know how to dance for her. Would she like a whole performance or would she like to become one with a mirror like she wasn't there?

"Do you want me to dance at you or at the mirror? Some people are not comfortable when we interact with them during performance." 

Abby looked at you, taking a pause, and you got nervous if you asked something weird.

"At me, please." Abby smirked and you blushed again. 

"Still no requests?" You stood up with your phone, getting ready to dance. You chose a routine, but still waited for Abby.

"I'm thinking about it."

"Okay, you think and I'll dance. Sit." You pointed on the floor right in front of the mirror, meaning: right in front of you. Abby sat on the floor, legs crossed, and you got ready.

The music started playing and you started moving, smooth and seductive, and Abby had to hold into her hoodie otherwise she'd just grab you. And then you were lying on your back, looking up at her with big innocent eyes that was obviously an act and Abby felt her stomach tighten up in arousal. The music carried on but the routine ended, so you've stopped dancing, breathing heavily. 

"Did you like it?" You asked, eager to hear her opinion. Abby unfroze and looked at your happy face.

"Yeah, it was very cool." Abby needed to save herself before she needed to change her pants. "Can you do Say So next?"

That was an extremely tactical decision: that choreo wasn't too sexual and Abby really needed a breather after that. You agreed and while you were looking for it, Abby tried to calm down. She needed to keep it in her pants. 

"You know, I actually really like Say So choreo." You showed a sequence where your hands go up your body but stop at a beat a few times as you move. "So easy but looks so good."

The casual show of how well you can control your body and your movements reminded Abby how skilled you were in the area she was a total zero, and she felt her heart swell with affection and pride that she got to touch someone as talented as you were. 

You've danced a few more routines, some sexy some not, and you enjoyed how intently Abby watched you, her eyes following your every move, every arch and every hand. You've made a few mistakes in some of them, but it didn't seem that Abby even noticed, her wide eyes on you, unblinking. It was cute and made you feel powerful: it was your body that made her all glossy eyed, and she was only looking. She visibly tried to stay serious, but she forgot about it a few seconds into the next dance.

And then you had a naughty, naughty thought. A year or so ago you made a choreo for Holy by King Princess, and it wasn't super explicit, but it was something that fitted into the situation right now. So you stopped music for a second, trying to remember how it went without spoiling anything for Abby.

"I think you'll like this one. Especially when I remember the whole dance." You winked. 

Abby laughed quietly and waited, watching you doing the "I'm remembering choreo just by moving my hands like a T-Rex" thing. 

When you've felt confident enough, you turned the music on and started dancing, a little lazy but sharp on specific beats, keeping Abby's attention. The verse was easy, but you were waiting for a different part. 

♪Honey, on your knees♪ - You pointed your finger towards the floor, showing Abby her place in this performance and looking just the right side of mean - ♪when you look at me♪ - you pointed back at your face, holding eye contact with Abby, enjoying her big glossy eyes.

♪I'm dressed like a fucking queen♪ - you moved your hands down your body, showing your curves, and slowly went down for a wide squat that flawlessly turned into you standing on your knees just in front of Abby, as you held your hands like a prayer, looking up and arching your back - ♪and you're begging please♪ 

♪Holy♪

You looked down at Abby, and something snapped. Abby could not not touch you, especially since you were so close, just in an arm reach. So before you could move away, she grabbed you by your waist and pulled you down in her lap, kissing you wet and raw, feeling your body, kneading your flesh like it was her last chance to touch you. God you got her worked up. Abby didn't move her hands down to your butt but she wanted to, fuck she wanted to. So she pulled away, desperate to get your permission.

"Can I?" Abby asked, panting, not moving away from your sweet mouth. She moved her hand just shy of your butt as she watched you blush, absolutely starving for you. "Please."

"Yeah." You whispered and kissed her again, clinging to her soft hoodie, to her shoulders as if she could just disappear under your fingers.

That was all Abby needed. She grabbed your butt, pulling you so close you felt her lower stomach pressing between your legs, practically lifting you up, her hands kneading your butt. You moved closer to Abby, chest to chest, feeling her boobs against yours as you sighed into her mouth, so aroused her one touch could explode you right now, your underwear completely soaked. 

Abby pulled away and put her lips on your neck, kissing and licking your skin, not even caring you were all sweaty after dancing. You sighed, surprised, and Abby's ears tuned to your noises, hyper aware of your every breath as she nipped at your neck, every sound resonating with her own body, going straight to her crotch. 

"Fuck you drive me crazy." Abby whispered in your neck as she kissed your collarbones. "Just fucking marry me."

You laughed silently, but your laugh was interrupted by your sharp inhale when Abby scraped her teeth over your skin, sending a thrill through your body. 

"I'm not getting married at 21, Abby." You took her face in your hands and looked at her, adoring her. "You're so pretty."

"Go on a date with me." 

You blushed and Abby groaned inside: how the fuck this is what was getting you shy, not the makeout session you too just had?

"You make me feel like a lady, Abby." You rubbed your nose against hers and she suddenly hugged you, making you yelp.

"Shit you're so fucking cute." You giggled and hugged her back, basically crushing her head with your chest. 

Abby sighed, content. She could die a happy woman now.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #abby tlou #hockey!abby

[pepperspraybabe-xo]

A rant about my recent weight gain ‼️

($H is briefly mentioned but I do NOT go into detail about it)

Okay. So I'm now the heaviest I've ever been. I weigh 173 lbs. I've been binging non-stop. I've had 4 cookies today and had even more yesterday. So I've almost had 1000 cals today and yesterday I'm sure I ate around 2500-3000 cals. I'm so tired of being overweight and sad all the time. And at this point I sound like a broken record player. I'm failing my classes. I need to get myself under control.

The app I use to track my cals and weight says that if I eat 1450 cals everyday I should lose about a pound a week, which sounds fucking psychotic! But I feel like I'm drowning. I'm gonna try to stick around 1300 cals a day. I wanna start working out on a regular basis, like going on jogs and stuff. And I wanna take care of my mind yk? I listened to relaxing sounds last night to fall asleep and I'm gonna listen to other audios.

I've been in a rut and I wanna get myself out of it. I relapsed in $H and I really don't wanna feel this way anymore. It's so tiring. I wanna wake up and feel alive. I fucking skipped school today. This shit is getting out of hand bro. And I'm just rambling now but holy fuck bro! I need to fix myself and my habits. I need to fix my body and my binging problem.

It's a psychological issue. My whole life I've associated food with happiness. But at some point it doesn't provide happiness anymore, it just fuels the depression (at least in my case). I just wanna feel good dude. That's all I want. I think I might talk to my mom about buying healthy snacks instead of cookies and chips. I'm surrounded by temptations and not healthy foods.

I'm so disappointed in myself. Prom is in a couple weeks, so I need to get in shape asap. I'm doing food logs every night. I'm gonna prove to myself that I can lose the weight that's been holding me back all my life.

Once I get my binging under control, then I can lower my cal intake. But for now I HAVE to break my bad habits.

If you somehow read all of my rant thank you 😭 lmfaoo

I really just needed to talk about it lol

#i wanna lose weight #i just want to be thin #i will reach my ugw #tw 3d vent #tw ed sheeran #tw restriction #tw ed but not sheeran #bulim14 #ana&mia #bul1m14

[ashlingiswriting]

do i know you? chapter three

[ 3k words ] [ prev chapters: one, two ] [ masterlist ] "it’s an unfamiliar sensation, not being able to completely read him. it skitters over you like static electricity." richie jerimovich x reader, past mikey berzatto x reader, slow burn

you’re on call every day from eight at night to eight in the morning, so by the time richie rolls up, you’ve usually just eaten a late breakfast and he’s heading home after work. there’s a consistency to his late night appearances, a rhythm that becomes comforting.

there’s no pretending and no politeness—what would be the point? they should invent a word for this. maybe childhood-friend-in-law would do, except you had a snowball’s chance in hell of ever marrying michael and you always knew it. that’s the feeling, though. familiarity comes built in. even when he gets truly infuriating, you don’t leave feeling worse than you did. more pissed off, sure, but never worse. it’s a distinction worth noticing. 

some nights are easy. you talk about questionable obscure music in which you really do not overlap or middling mainstream music in which you do, running out of concerts and context. sometimes it’s pure bullshit, gossip or make believe, starting up elaborate jokes too lame to admit to in front of anyone else, then discarding them when they’re outworn. sometimes it’s old stories, sometimes it’s pure speculation.

hand to god, some nights are good.

and then there’s this night.

.

.

.

you’re barely out the front door when richie calls out, hey. where the hell were you?

you got called in real early yesterday, so you missed seeing him last night. but that’s no cause for him to yell, the entitled little jerk. you shoot him a baleful glare. then, as you take in the sight of him, you settle a little.

he’s not truly angry. you’ve spent enough time with him now, you’d know.

with a shrug, you shove your hands deep in your pockets and come stand beside him. 

last night i had to smoke all by myself like a fuckin loser, he says. 

that's your cue to say, you are a fuckin loser, but you don't take it.

he offers you a drag on his own cigarette, and you shake your head. you want it bad, but you can’t. you all but smoked yourself to death between crises yesterday, and you’re trying to convince yourself now that giving it up will somehow fix things. 

but nothing will be fixed, and it’s not your responsibility anyhow. this is not your city. you’ve felt that acutely of late, as each of your last links to it is broken one by one. coke or the cops, what difference does it make? the caruso kid didn’t listen to you, didn’t listen to anyone, and once his infection got bad enough, his wife called an ambulance. it’ll be the cops for him if he survives, and his father after that, the next domino to fall. you yourself are somewhere in that long line, just waiting for your turn. 

work sucks, huh, richie says. 

you look over at him to find that he’s already looking back at you, a little sleepy but not good enough an actor to hide the keenness in his observing eyes. it’s dangerous that he noticed you were gone and it’s dangerous that he’s noticing you now, but it feels really, really fucking good. 

yeah, you say. i thank god every day that i am a woman of leisure.

he laughs. well, i’m just grateful that you allow yourself to associate out with me, you know. me in my rags and you in your pearls and finery. he gestures at your sweatpants and gigantic parka.

once my tiara’s back from the cleaner’s, it’s over for you, you say.

sure, and i’ll be crying my eyes out in a pint of cherry chocolate chip. 

with that, he launches into a long, winding tale about the shenanigans he pulled at the beef today, installment nine hundred and seventeen of his neverending battle with a guy named fak. you’re not following, but you’re not trying to follow particularly hard, either. you’re too tired, and you’ve got other shit on your mind.

that’s the closest richie has gotten to mentioning your job in weeks. 

used to be that he’d poke around with dogged persistence, as though he thought he could needle you into submission. he asked after your boss’s health, your credit score, your childhood high school. he complained he had to take a shit or that it was too cold out to stand around. all that. anything to invade, get inside, get a little more information. 

michael was like that, too. the difference between the two is that michael won. conquered you, most if not all of your secrets, and fell asleep in your bed long before even a month had passed. but richie’s been at it for a few months now and he seems to have given up. he doesn’t know your job, your last name, or your phone number. he could pick you out of a lineup but he could never track you down. and he’s decided to let that go.

it’s just as well. you’ve got leftover dim sum in the minifridge right now, and if he pushed hard enough, you’re pretty sure you’d take him up to share it. siu mai re-steamed and slices of lo bak goh re-fried in hot oil in a pan, savory and delicious, nothing better. you can’t cook, but you’d still feed him well if given half the chance. you’d arrange the table with takeout napkins and your only two sets of matching cutlery, you’d—

the real richie rudely interrupts your thoughts. 

you’re not even listening to me, are you, he says. 

no, i’m not, you admit without an ounce of compunction.

just like everyone else, hey? fan-tastic. there’s a real bite to the way he breaks the word in half.

you look at him, startled and stung. don’t be such a fucking baby.

man, fuck you, he says. real anger, rocketing out from his chest. 

fuck you! you stare at him, legitimately astonished. maybe it’s your fault for not paying attention, but you really have no idea where this is coming from. you’ve been good. maybe your mind strayed for a while tonight, but what about every other night? you’ve always listened, or at least pretended to listen, to the travails of his divorce, his money problems, his insane workplace, his dysfunctional quasi-adopted family. and there’s a hell of a lot of it. you’ve been really fucking good!

apparently, not only has he not noticed this, but he thinks he’s entitled to even more.

you say, what do you expect here when you’re going on for eons like fucking always. do you think this is fun for me?

well, someone has to talk since you won’t say shit about shit with that paranoid secret agent—

oh, fuck. something about the way richie cuts himself off. you dread whatever he’s got to say next.

he says, what’s that supposed to mean, do you think this is fun for me?

jesus christ. you fumble in your coat, only to remember that you threw away your last pack. i don’t speak in fucking riddles, richie, this is not that type of situation.

then what type of, like. his face wrinkles in horror and disgust. am i a charity project? 

this is like having a migraine, but worse. i never said… truly, what the hell is going on? how did you even get here? 

dredging up the last of your energy, the emergency fund, you turn it into bravado, your default response to an unexpectedly angry man. you give it your all cause that’s the only way to do it, turning and facing him head on, putting your shoulders back and standing square over your own two feet. 

what is this, richie? you wanna fight? you really wanna fight?

yeah, i think i do actually, says richie, alarmingly ready. i think i really fuckin do. 

fine, you spit. 

you tilt your chin up so you can look him square in the eye and you give him the worst you got, spiteful already, and then you start trying to anticipate his next move.

there’s a lot of things he could say, as it turns out, a lot of things that only he could say, because he was there for everything. he witnessed the aftermath and attended the funeral. he could have you skinned like a caught rabbit given half the chance, and you just handed it to him on a silver platter. 

besides, he has a right. he loved michael even more than you did.

the realization dawns on you far too late, and then the dread sets in. can he see it in your face? when he opens his mouth, you’re setting your jaw so you don’t flinch. 

forget it, he says flatly. he turns away a little, steps back to lean against the building, and in the shadow of the building all you can see is the shape of him. if you concentrate, you can make out his profile against the gray concrete. 

.

.

.

at first, you can’t quite believe it. it’s mercy, after all, and that’s rarely reliable. but after his last cigarette, richie folds his arms tight across his chest and tilts his head back, eyes looking up towards stars that neither of you can see through the city lights.

eventually, you do start to think the mercy is real. you test it.

can i have one? you say.

richie doesn’t even hesitate. he reaches into the left pocket of his tracksuit pants, produces a pack, and hands it over. it turns out to be brand-new box of menthols. 

you look at it for a moment. your throat’s doing that thing again. he really did notice that you weren’t here last night, huh.

i don’t do charity, you say, after a second.

it’s fine, forget it, he says. 

i don’t, though. you don’t know what to say, but you know you can’t leave things there, so you keep pushing, and the words just come out. richie, i’m—i’m really a piece of shit. 

he looks at you directly again, but this time it’s a question. he doesn’t try to negate it with a brainless autoresponse like ‘no you’re not.’ he just listens, plain and simple. for a second, you’re at a loss. 

sudden and frightening as a car crash at the next intersection, the impulse flashes through you: tell him the truth, the whole truth. test him for real, watch that mercy melt away, inevitable as ice on hot pavement. teach him to hate you like he should. it’s like strong hands digging their fingers into your shoulders, the thought, and you’re reeling.

i… you swallow, smash it down, yank the car back onto the road. i hate ice cream and babies and long walks on the beach, i hate old ladies and libraries. you look over at him. i kick dogs every chance i get. 

there it is, at the corners of his mouth.

heartened, you go on, nearly tripping over your words. like, small dogs, richie. puppies. right in the head, i kick them. 

now you’re both smiling, and the relief is so fucking crazy. you’ve fought with him so many times before, but you’ve never gotten scared by it before. this is a first, and you have no idea what to do. all you can do is repeat, i don’t do charity.

okay, he says. okay.

you lean against the wall, and you’re absurdly heartened when he does the same right next to you. something about the symmetry, something about the weight off. you finally light up one of the menthols, and you have the night with richie back again. the breeze brushes by, chilly but not unbearable. it’s perfect.

what happened today? you say.

i thought you’d like it, he says. it was funny. 

go on, then. 

you wonder if richie might try to make you say please, but he doesn’t. he walks you through the whole day of catastrophes, from the broken toilet to the loss of electricity, from the loss of electricity to the fucked-up fridge, from the fucked-up fridge to the outdoor grill—

that’s really cool, you say.

he grins. right? 

whose idea?

from his crooked, exasperated smile, you know it wasn’t his. 

syd’s, he admits.

you raise an eyebrow. so i take it the culinary institute is good for something.

he scoffs. no way they taught her that. that—he points at you—was pure chicago.

oh okay, so we’re giving the credit to the city.

yeah, we are, cause it’s like—

the city, not the woman.

it was very chicago of her! that’s a compliment. don’t make it a feminism thing. his voice matches yours, a near-laugh ribboning through it like fudge in ice cream.

alright, okay. you’re smiling like a fool and you couldn’t care less. so then what?

so turns out fak’s connect isn’t much of a connect, surprise surprise, and it’s gonna cost us fifty-five hundred just to get the fridge back up and running. so he and carmy come to me, all hat in hand, and they’re like—shit. i didn’t tell you about the dealing, did i? you got me all turned around.

didn’t tell me bout the what now?

fak snitched on me earlier, told carmy i was dealing in the alley back behind the beef. i’m not moving much weight, just like. he gestures vaguely. covid, he adds, like that’s an explanation. please don’t have a fit about this, i’ve had all i can take from carmy already.

you shake your head once, thinking hard, processing. the more you think on it, the more it unsettles you. 

i knew he was dealing, obviously, but i didn’t know about you, you say. after a second, you add, richard edgar jerimovich?

jesus, he mutters.

is that right?

and here i thought carmy was going full mom. edgar, jesus fucking christ. richie’s torn between aghast and amused. where’d you get that from?

that’s your middle name?

yeah, but—

you hold up a hand, not rude, just asking him silently to let you finish, and he does. 

richie, you broke your wrist when you were twelve trying to play tackle football with the big boys on asphalt. at some point in your thirties, you started getting a rash every time you ate shellfish, but you still do it anyways, ‘cause fuck it’. and to this day you hate nightmare on elm street cause he convinced you to watch it with him when you were both way too young. 

none of this richie told you himself. it all came straight from michael. 

you say, how do i know all that, but i didn’t know you were dealing? 

richie says nothing, so you look over and find him watching you already. it’s an unfamiliar sensation, not being able to completely read him. it skitters over you like static electricity. 

you got a pretty good memory there, huh, he says.

it’s coke, right?

it’s just coke, yeah. was coke. it’s over now. richie shrugs wearily, turns away, and stubs out his spent cigarette on the concrete wall. mikey and his fucking secrets. i don’t know what to tell you. 

you can say that again. 

richie says nothing for a beat, then: mikey and his fucking secrets, i don’t—

okay, okay. 

he breaks into a small smile as you watch him, and then you keep on looking at him even as the smile subsides. a car goes by, and you look down at the pavement as the headlights sweet over both your faces, only looking back up at him once the car is gone.

the thing is, you really did think you knew him. what a crazy thing to think, when this is a mistake you’ve already made before with michael. you thought you knew him too. 

there could be so much of richie you don’t know, because michael didn’t know—or because michael didn’t tell. and yet richie isn’t a stranger. at any moment you could close your eyes and picture his face, imagine his voice. he’s in you that much, at least.

so here he is, through your own eyes. you’re determined to fix him in your mind, not richie from the stories, but richie as he really is. his hair is dark and close-cut, his beard too. his eyebrows are scant, and there’s a ridge on his forehead as if to make up for it. his nose is straight and straightforward. there are bags under his eyes, because of course there are, but his eyes themselves are as blue as summer, so blue they’re barely believable. that’s him, that’s his face.

then there’s the eternal black leather jacket, oversized and complete with unnecessary shoulder straps for all the bags he’ll never carry. he stinks of kitchen in general and arby’s curly fries in specific. he’s allowing you to stare at him, an indulgence that you can’t question without being a dick. he makes you want to not be a dick. all this is here, all this is real. 

he rubs his nose with the side of his wrist. 

you must be tired, you say quietly.

when he smiles like that, it’s almost like you can look down past a few decades and see the teenager you never got to meet. i’m never tired, he says.

he’s always tired, you realize. of course he would be. you only ever see him after his long-ass shifts. go to bed, richie.

that was too gentle for sure, because he says a little curiously, getting some real weird vibes off you right now.

you take one last drag, then push off the side of the building, gathering yourself to go. you want normal, don’t come to me. 

heard, he says with a chuckle. g’night.

goodnight.

.

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[ chapter four ] [ masterlist ]

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@garbinge, @narcolini, @drabbles-mc, @beingalive1 — if anyone else wants a tag, let me know.

#richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #the bear fanfic #mine #readerfic #the bear imagine #do i know you? #diky

[joojeans]

could i request hyung line during and/or after a fight? like them and f!reader have been so busy with their own jobs and dont have time with eo and theyre stressed and tired and everything? i need me sum angst :] thank you! <3

since you didn't request comfort or a fluff ending, this is pure angst!

&team hyung line: fighting w s/o because they miss each other

k: the first moments of silence in the last hour pass. the tension in the air is thick, your hands curling into little frustrated fists as you stand awkwardly on the other side of the room from k. "k, i just think—" you're interrupted by a loud groan as k leans his head back into the couch and forces his eyes shut as if he would cease to hear you if he couldn't see you. your heart aches. would he really wish you away right now if it was so easy? "y/n, today has been the longest day as it is. can you please not drain the last bit of energy i have?" your heart somehow sinks further, your lips pursing as you try to fight back tears. "i just thought we could make more intentional efforts to see each other even when we're busy. it's not easy, k, but we didn't sign up for easy." your tone is devoid of any feeling, k's eyes opening and looking over to you. he doesn't say anything, so you give up for the moment, heading in the direction of the front door as he watches you with sad eyes—eyes reflecting loss and a sense of having no control over his pain.

fuma: "i didn't realize i was asking for so much," you grumble, hissing when you accidentally touch the hot pot on the stove, minorly searing one of your fingers. "fuck!" you've reached your breaking point and it's obvious to you and fuma alike. fuma reaches for your hand as he stands next to you, but you yank your hand away, stepping away from him. "don't. i want to spend time with you just to be together. i don't want it just when you feel like you need to rescue me." your words sting. fuma has surely spent many more days of you being together showing you that he cares so much. all the days of missing each other that have been piling up shouldn't be able to make your strong foundation collapse... right? he stares at the side of your face as you examine your finger, your jaw tense. "you and i both know that's not fair, y/n, but i understand that you're saying it because you're hurt. let me know when you actually want to talk, because i'm not here to be your punching bag."

nicholas: you push nicholas's hands away with a frown instead of laughing like you usually do when he tickles you. his hands freeze in place, hovering in the air before he slowly moves them to rest on his thighs, turning his head to the side to look at you. you're sitting next to him but you're not really there. "y/n? are you okay?" you sigh, avoiding his gaze. "i'm just really not in the mood to pretend like everything's all happy and normal when you haven't had time for me for the last few weeks. feels like shit, nicholas." nicholas looks down to his lap, fingers nervously fiddling with themselves as he speaks quietly. "i'm sorry, y/n. i didn't mean for it to be so long. you know i'd always rather be with you." you feel a pang of guilt, but you're not over your hurt feelings enough yet to accept his words of apology. "if you wanted to be with me, you could've found time. you didn't." nicholas nods, resigned. "i'm sorry," he mumbles again softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

euijoo: you're trying so hard to focus on the movie you're watching with euijoo. it's your first night together in too long, so you want to enjoy it, but everything feels awkward. off. he's not smiling at you like he usually does, too tired from work to be fully present. before you can stop it, tears well up in your eyes and fall silently down your cheeks. it doesn't take euijoo long to notice—he's been glancing at you every few seconds all night, obviously trying to make sure he's making you happy. "y-y/n?" his voice is so soft, concerned. he's watching you cry but he's frozen. "what's wrong?" you shake your head and swallow the lump in your throat. "i just miss you, euijoo." his eyes are darting all over your face, searching for answers. "but... i'm right here." the worry on his face makes you feel ashamed. he hasn't actually done anything wrong, but you can't help how you feel. you nod, trying to force a smile as you look at him with glossy eyes. "i know, euijoo. i know."

#i !!do not!! advocate for any of y/n's or the teamie's communication skills/behaviors in this post! #pls do not act like this in your relationships it's not healthy ok ily #(lowkey fuma handled this right tho proud of him) #(lowkey and ej and y/n were ok too) #all team #k #fuma #nicho #ej #&team angst #andteam angst #&team imagines #andteam imagines

[thebuginthecornerofyourroom]

Imagine you're a peasant in a fantasy world round 40-45 years old definitely mature and you live in your village and life is kind of chill you have a farm and some crops and they yield enough that the money is not much but never a problem and you're also somewhat lucky cause you are in an acceptable shape because of working the farm and have never caught any disease and life is calm you hear sometimes news of the stuff that happens in the cities and the magic and adventures and the heroes and stuff and you kinda wanna go there and adventure yourself but you're kinda old and somewhat tired it would be too long a trip and you don't really feel like actually do it and one day you wake up and the air is kinda gloomy like when they said there was a war and some dark magic some years ago and some person in a robe appears in the village and finds you and says he's som archwizard from the capital and some other stuff and asks for your help because you've been appointed by the gods as the next hero and you call them on their bullshit because every hero since the golden ages has been some 18-21 kid with energy and youth power and whatnot and you're a grown ass man that gets pain on his hip when it's going to rain and they break character really quick and they confess that the actual hero is dead because the gods are not very catholic lately and they just appoint idiots that get given some divine power and think they're immortal and invincible and immediately get stomped by a giant or jump to a volcano or just dumb stuff so the gods made a list of backups just in case and things on the capital seem to be very dire because they're there and you're fucking 40 and these kids are so posh and stupid so you sigh and accept whatever power they wanna give you and you don't really feel very different but get given some magical hero weapon which ends up being some retractable pocket knife because you're not really a soldier but them knife cuts very well and peels apples in one go which is impressive to be fair and you get onto this adventure and any and all encounters with monsters and mages and whatever is disappointing because none of these people know how to fight and the heroes just threw themselves to danger stupidly like the giants left you alone after you shared a joint with them and the goblins ended up gathering around the fire to hear stories and the orcs just needed a hand in their farm and the elves let us through after some grown up conversation and you get to the castle and the fucking thing is half ruins and you start to get the idea that the good gods are not very good lately at choosing but the evil gods are shit at it either because this is no dark lord but some kid that found a book and summoned some demons that follow him more for magic mandate than pleasure and curse a couple of pigs and so you go up to him while he's monologuing because of course he does and kick him in the balls and take the stupid book from him and you end up dispelling the demons which are relieved to be fair cause they weren't too keen on going around causing more trouble than necessary and get them kid and the cursed pigs and say you're gonna move to my village and you these pigs and I we're gonna move all this library of stuff you have here and you're either gonna learn to work the farm or be a fucking librarian because this dark magic nonsense cannot continue no more young man and he reluctantly agreed and the mage is baffled because they had not a single fight during the whole trip and you go back to your farm and the kid is calm now he does stuff for the farm and has a school for children and he's kinda happy and the pigs help also and some idiot from the capital came with something about a knighthood and a ceremony and whatever you told him to either buy some produce or to fuck off and he bought a pumpkin and things are good now and you feel kinda fulfilled and nice about the whole thing somehow.

Imagine that.

#writing #writblr #high fantasy but chill #short stories #imagine that

[papa-evershed]

I’m curious… what do you think are the sexiest gifs of Rob EVER? 😏 I’d love to see ‘em.

I apologize for my late answer but like a weirdo, I was just convinced that my choices would somehow be disappointing. 😅🙈 I just feel like most people are going to expect gifs of kissing scenes or skin but those aren't even the ones that make me the most feral. But I'll give it a shot. 😂

As always, under a read more for length but also for cringe worthy fangirling and NSFW thirst-talk.

Immediately, my first thought was this gif. When I say I adore this man's belly I fucking mean it. He's just so deliciously man-shaped. Tall and thick and soft in all the right places. I love a belly, lets me know that a person isn't too militant and allows themselves to indulge in life's pleasures. 😏😏 (I'm reading way too much into a belly but here we are.) Add in the fact that in this specific scene, Martin Evershed is being the ultimate soft, caring Dad™. He has every reason in the world to lose his shit on Sam but instead he actively chooses to be what she needs in that moment and it's just incredibly sexy because he is a whole ass Man™. I just wrote a fucking novel about this one gif but listen, there's a reason it's first that comes to mind.

The thumb in the mouth? 🙃

Speaking of Act On This, this one too. I'm not even sure if I can put my finger on exactly why this specific gif is one of my favorites. Perhaps because he's usually so smiley (which I adore) that a rare serious/stern look wrecks me. Another reason I want him cast as a villain. Just...yes, sir.

And on the flip side, these because he's just so soft again. I fucking love soft men, ones who don't seem to have that drive to constantly perform their own personal version of hyper-masculinity. (also, I'd suck a random dick off the street to get this in HQ)

I'm a simple creature and I like profiles, noses, and tits.

Like I said, I'm a simple creature and I am no better than any man.

When the right men manspread at the right time? Yes. Yes, that.

When Dad™ shows up to save the day? Get that man a beer and a blowjob.

And while I love it when a man is great with kids...I also think it's incredibly sexy when he's tired of their bullshit cause aren't we all sometimes? 😅

FUZZY GREY NECK? say no more. Also, I'd stand in a three hour long line to wait my turn to ride his thigh like he was the carousel at Disney World. I said what I said.

Hutch. Just Hutch. Everything about the character was sexy. And bless this t-shirt. The shoulders. The arms. The fuzzy neck. The nose. He could 100% talk me into sleeping in that creepy ass cabin and much like Phil, we'd also wake up naked and calling out to God.

Annnd because I feel like it's expected and it does deserve attention, this kiss with Papa E. Listen. Listen. So many fucking onscreen kisses go from 0 to 60 in .000005 seconds. Just immediate face-fucking right out the gate. And IDK about y'all but that shit just isn't enjoyable in real life. Don't assault my fucking face like a Dallas Cowboy's linebacker. 🙃 Ease into it. Warm up. Mr. Evershed will patiently take his time making you so anxiously desperate for more that when he finally does deepen that kiss your lips will be eagerly wet and ready...heh. 🙈

Anyway. 😳 I've been really good about not being thirsty on main anymore and this is still quite tame for me but I'm gonna stop now because this post could go on all night. 🫠

#y'all can't see me like this