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mylovesstuffs · 10 days ago

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They Stayed — SEVENTEEN

we drew a circle with time, and in its center remain our smiles, our tears, and all that we couldn’t say: thank you, and I love you.

✦ 📼 › summary :: a three-part reflection through the eyes of a nameless narrator who once found a lifeline in thirteen boys on a screen. from birthday candles to exam scores to goodbye bus rides and late-night livestreams—this is a memory-laced thank you to a group that never knew your name, but still made you feel like you belonged.

✦ 📼 › genre :: idol au (?), prose, reflective slice of life, soft hurt/comfort, character study-ish

✦ 📼 › pairings:: ot13 × reader

✦ 📼 › content :: growth & grief, leaving & longing, the ache of healing, music as memory, parasocial solace, found family [unspoken], one-sided devotion that doesn’t ask to be returned but is returned, comfort in chaos, healing through music, full-circle moment, real life is the slowest burn. not quite fiction, not quite journal, emotional time capsule, being seen without being known, fandom as sanctuary, home isn’t always a place

✦ 📼 › content warnings :: mentions of loneliness, parental tension, academic burnout, mental exhaustion, but nothing explicit; mild angst if you look at it sideways. lots of tears,

✦ 📼 › a/n :: very different from how i usually write but ig you should know, this piece is stitched from the folds of my own past; the process of growing up, breaking down, and somehow still being here and surviving. low-key inspired by Encircle, high-key inspired by the way Going Seventeen episodes have healed more wounds than they’ll ever know. thank you to the past me who first watched exclusive fairytale and cause of old habits—decided to do some research on the leads [we see you, jun !! ] thank you to svt for staying, happy 10th year anniversary [and happy first svt anniversary to me]. p.s. written entirely during insomnia hours. forgive any typos; this one came from the heart.

✦ 📼 › word count :: 3123 words

You're back home, but it's raining. A soft drizzle that smears the city lights into watercolor blurs on your window. For some reason you can’t quite name, but a strange wave of sadness rolls over you; oddly nostalgic, too. Life’s been moving, not good or bad, just… moving. You're surviving, drifting along the current. Nothing’s exactly wrong, but still, it all feels a little off. Work has been relentless in that it makes your limbs heavy and your mind on autopilot. You haven’t had the time or the energy to indulge in the things that made you feel alive. The books, the playlists, the variety shows, golden hours that used to belong to you alone, they've all gathered dust somewhere in the background.

You drag yourself into the kitchen, feet padding softly against the floor. You open the fridge, the cold light spilling out across your tired face, and reach in and pull out a nearly empty milk carton, flipping the cap off with a weary thumb. You bring it to your nose, inhale cautiously. You pause, and your fingers tighten around the carton, brows furrowed slightly. It smells… okay. Technically expired, maybe, but nothing alarming. Nothing sour or offensive, just passable — like everything else lately. You shrug to yourself and reach for the instant coffee.

The kettle hums in the background as you move through the motions: spooning in the powder, adding the water, stirring slowly. It’s the kind of routine you could do with your eyes closed. You haven't had time to go grocery shopping in days. Every evening after work, you came home and collapsed straight into bed, but not to sleep, just to lie there. Too tired to even scroll, you defaulted to YouTube shorts, letting the algorithm numb you while time slipped through your fingers. But today is at least a little different; it's May 26th.

The rain still taps softly against the windowpane, you sit curled on the floor, the edges of your half-empty coffee mug cooling beside you. From the corner, a Spotify playlist running on your phone. A familiar intro filters through the room. It’s a song you haven't heard in what feels like forever; not because you forgot it, but because life got in the way. The melody drifts toward you like an old friend, that once patched the broken seams of your heart without asking for anything in return. You close your eyes, and suddenly, you're with SEVENTEEN again.

Lost, tired, clinging to hope with both hands even when it felt like hope didn’t want to stay. Alone in your bedroom, staring up at the ceiling and imagining a life that didn’t ache so much. Back then, you didn’t have the words to describe it. You couldn’t explain why some days felt impossibly heavy, or why it seemed like the world had been built for everyone else but you. But out there, somewhere, in a language you barely understood, a constellation of thirteen voices reached you. They didn’t know your name or anything, but they made space for you anyway. They wrapped their songs around your weary soul like a soft blanket and told you without ever saying, it is okay to simply exist.

You draw your knees in closer to your chest and smile. Funny, isn’t it? How music, how people, can find you even when you’re convinced you’re invisible.

You smile softly, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes, and draw in a breath. With one hand, you reach down to the floor beside your bed, fingers brushing the edge of the bedsheet that drapes loosely over the side. You gather the fabric, lifting and folding it back over the mattress in one fluid motion. Then, leaning forward, you shift your weight onto one arm, shoulder dipping low as you reach under the bed, fingers sweeping through dust and forgotten corners until they close around a small box.

You pull it out carefully and settle back, legs crossed beneath you, the box resting in your lap. It's old — edges softened and corners dulled by time. The lid sticks for a moment, then gives way with a soft creak. You open it slowly; reminisce and look back.

On top lies a battered diary, its pages filled with half-scrawled thoughts, song lyrics, small promises you made to yourself in your darker days. Beneath it, a photo which seems to be slightly crinkled, the ink starting to fade; a printed photo from a concert livestream. You remember it instantly: your bedroom was dark except for the blue-white glow of the screen, the warmth you felt despite being physically alone, your heart seemingly beating in sync with the cheering crowd you could only hear through your speakers.

You laugh a bit, remembering how you scrambled across Twitter that night, switching from one link to another each time one got taken down. Desperate, determined — as if that concert, streamed illegally from thousands of miles away, was the only thing tethering you to sanity… which it was.

It's their tenth anniversary today. Ten whole years.

You weren’t there from the beginning, not when they first debuted or when the world barely knew their name, but they were always there for you when you wanted; from the very start of your story. Through sleepless nights, forgotten birthdays, and the crushing loneliness of growing up; they were there. In your ears, in your heart, in the margins of your school notebooks and the playlists that carried you home.

Life pulled you away, as it always does — busier and lonelier. You haven’t been able to keep up like you used to. The new songs, the live streams, the celebrations, passed in a blur. For more than a year now, you’ve watched from a distance, always meaning to catch up, always too tired to try, but they… never truly left you. Even when your hands were too full to reach back, they stayed in the corners of your heart.

You run your thumb across the old photo, a small laugh slipping from your throat. You’ll celebrate with them tonight. For the music that once held your shaking hands, for the voices that wrapped around your silence, for the comfort that arrived through glowing screens from a world away. You close your eyes, and for a second, you’re that younger version of yourself again; heart full, hands empty, but never alone. And when you open them, the feeling remains. Happy anniversary, you think. Thank you for finding me.

Snapshot One: First Winter

You were sixteen, standing at the edge of yet another argument at home, feeling so small it hurt to breathe. You hovered by the living room doorway, arms folded across your chest, eyes burning not from tears, but from exhaustion.

“Why can’t you be more like your cousins?” your mother snapped, slamming a stack of papers onto the table. “They know what they’re doing. They don’t sit around wasting time with K-pop boys and drawing and all these… distractions!”

“I’m not them,” you muttered, your voice shaking.

“Exactly!” your father’s voice cut in. “You’re not them. You don’t even try to be better. You’re always hiding in your room, listening to that nonsense, wasting your time online. What will that get you?”

You stared at the floor. You didn’t want to shout, but if you spoke louder, you were afraid your voice would crack, so instead, you clenched your fists behind your back. “I’m doing my best.”

“Your best?” your mother scoffed with an eye roll. “Your best isn’t enough. You don’t study like you should. You’re not focused. Every time we ask you to do something, you act like we’re attacking you. We’re trying to help, and all you do is shut down!”

“I’m tired,” escaped your mouth. “You never listen when I say I’m tired.”

“Tired of what?” your father barked. “You don’t even have responsibilities yet. What do you know about being tired?”

Something in you snapped then, but it was like a crack running through glass. “I’m tired of never being enough for you.”

The silence that followed was sharp and awkward. Your mother’s mouth opened, then closed. Your father turned away, muttering something under his breath, maybe about respect, maybe about how you were being irrelevant again.

You didn’t wait for more though. You turned on your heel and walked to your room, closing the door behind you with trembling hands. The moment the latch clicked, you sank to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest. Shoving your earbuds in, you scrolled desperately through your playlist, looking for anything that could drown it all out. The opening notes played, familiar and comforting. No need to rush, you're doing fine. Just stay as you are.

You didn’t understand the whole lyric back then. Korean wasn’t your first language, and you hadn’t looked up the full translation. But somehow, those words felt like enough. Like a hand reaching out in the dark. You clutched the buds tighter, turned the volume up higher, and let the voices blur into warmth. You believed them, because you had to.

Snapshot Two: A Lonely Birthday

You hadn’t planned to cry on your seventeenth birthday.

You woke up to silence. No messages or knocks on your door were in sight. Just the soft ping of your phone as Google Calendar politely reminded you: It's your birthday today – 17 years. You stared at the screen for a moment, then turned it face down on your pillow. It wasn’t that you expected anything grand, but maybe a text. A voice from the other side of your bedroom door hurried “oh, right—it’s today?” from someone in the kitchen, but there was nothing. Just the faint hum of the ceiling fan and the clink of dishes being washed downstairs. You were being paranoid again.

So you went through the motions. You brushed your hair, tied it into a low ponytail, threw on your hoodie, which still smelled faintly like fabric softener. You grabbed your wallet and slipped out quietly, telling yourself you just needed fresh air.

At the convenience store, you stood in front of the dessert fridge longer than necessary. Rows of cakes stared back at you with too-bright frosting and cheerful little decorations. You chose the smallest slice—chocolate with a thin curl of cream on top, and added a single candle from the counter display. The cashier didn’t say anything, just rang it up and handed it over with a practiced smile.

By the time you climbed to the rooftop of your building, the sky had already begun to dim. The city below pulsed with life, but up here, it was quiet and empty. You sat cross-legged near the edge, placing the slice of cake on the concrete beside you. It wobbled a little in its plastic container. You lit the candle with a matchstick, shielding the tiny flame with your hand from the cool breeze. And then, as the sun dipped further, you pressed play on your phone.

The opening chords drifted into your ears, the familiar harmony of thirteen voices. Singing about dreams, about holding on, about the promise to stay together even when everything changes. You looked at the candle. No party hats, no wrapped presents, no one saying your name out loud; still, you blew it out.

You sat there for a long while after that, watching the smoke curl into the air. Picking at the cake with a plastic spoon, eating small bites between the ache in your throat and the music in your ears. And for a moment, it didn’t feel so heavy, because even though you didn’t have anyone sitting in front of you, even though the world seemed to forget you for a day, you weren’t really alone. You closed your eyes.

The city was still buzzing below, but here, in your ears, they were singing only to you. 'Cause I'm your home, home, home, home. A place you can come to, a place you can come to. And that was enough for now.

Snapshot Three: Leaving Home

Your suitcase was too small to fit everything. Not just your clothes and books, but the things that weighed heavier: your past, your fears, your entire heart. You tried, though. Folded the memories into corners, zipped up regrets between sweaters, tucked silent hopes beneath a faded hoodie that still smelled like home. But the suitcase clicked shut anyway, bulging slightly at the sides.

The bus station was a place that hummed with goodbyes and beginnings. You found your seat by the window and sank into it slowly, your backpack in your lap. The driver announced something over the intercom, but you barely heard it, and the city began to move.

It slid past in streaks of color, neon signs flashing in the rain, buildings reduced to shadows, everything growing softer the further you went. You leaned your forehead against the cool window, watching as the places you once knew blurred into the distance. You told yourself not to cry, but a song started in your headphones, and as if on cue, that one line whispered through: Whenever and wherever we are; even if we are not together, just like always; our smile flowers will bloom. That was it. The tears came faster than expected, slipping down your cheeks and pooling beneath your chin. You pressed harder into the glass, as if you could anchor yourself to something that was already gone. Behind you was everything you’d known. Every mistake, and every version of you that had tried and failed and tried again. Every reason you once thought you should give up, but here you were; moving forward.

Because somewhere, through voices that never saw your face, in lyrics sung across languages and oceans, someone made you believe you could. And so, you did.

Your laptop rests on your thighs, the weight of it barely noticeable. You're half-sitting, half-slouched on your worn-out mattress, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, a thin blanket bunched around your waist. The screen glows softly in the dim room, lighting up your face with shifting colors as the 10th anniversary weverse live plays. Their voices rise and fall with familiar laughter, yelling, sudden quiet. You don’t catch most of what they’re saying. You don't have a subscription to keep up properly anyway, with how things are right now. Bills first, always. Still, you watch even though you aren't understanding. You can always watch the subtitled version on YouTube.

Seventeen has always been a beautiful contradiction. A band of fools who never cared about the rules of being ‘idols.’ They’d bicker on camera like siblings at war, then turn around and say something that leaves your heart cracked open. There was no pretense, no illusion, just thirteen people being utterly, stupidly, heartbreakingly themselves. It always made you laugh, and… known.

You lift the cup of buldak ramen to your lips, careful not to spill. It's too spicy, your eyes water a little. You slurp another mouthful, noodles slipping from your chopsticks, your fingers, clumsy and red from the heat. The spice lingers on your tongue, and you wipe your nose with the back of your hand, sniffling without any grace.

On the screen, they suddenly break into chaos—Mingyu falls off his chair, Dokyeom screams laughing. You snort, typical. You laugh, mouth full, and then, just like that, you remember memories.

The flood of years behind you. Crying into your pillow over failed exams, walking home in the rain after another silent dinner full of tension, arguing with your parents and hearing your voice echo back at you, friends who stopped calling, plans that never came to be. All the tiny moments that once broke your heart. But through it all, they were there. Not physically, not even knowingly, but they were there. And when your world felt like it was closing in, their world opened up to you; welcoming, chaotic, oddly healing.

Time passed, and you grew up. You started calling yourself things like “adult” and “tired.” The little joys you once clung to became luxuries. The friends who once promised ‘forever’ faded into profiles you rarely tapped on anymore. Dreams turned into ‘practical decisions.’ And yet, Seventeen’s comfort never left. You think of the nights when Going Seventeen played, your laughter echoing into your quiet room. You think of their dumb jokes, their games, their little skits that made you forget the weight pressing on your chest. You remember feeling okay; maybe even happy.

The numbers on the calendar flew by, the seasons changed, and so did you. But the warmth Seventeen gave you, the tiny circle they once carefully drew around your heart with their fingers, stayed.

You take another bite of ramen, swallow it slowly. No matter how much changed, that gratitude never did, and neither did they.

Now, when life grows heavy and unbearable, when your chest feels hollow and your room echoes too loudly with absence, you find yourself reaching back, but with your heart instead of your hands, remembering those moments, those melodies, those words, those silly goofy antics that once held you together when no one else knew how. The world had been too sharp then. People passed you by like shadows, and your voice felt too small to be heard, but their voices—thirteen of them, laughing and stumbling and singing; wrapped around you like warmth on a cold winter night. You didn’t understand how or why it worked; only that it did. That when you thought you’d break, they held you in the space between verses and refrains.

You press play on ‘Encircle’ again. The first note hits, and it’s like unlocking a door you didn’t realize was still closed. Suddenly, you’re there back in the past again—shoulders shaking while the glow from your laptop screen shone, tears slipping down your cheeks, heart aching but beating. You remember the laughter that pulled you back from the edge. The tears that became a little lighter because of a lyric. The nights you didn’t think you’d make it through… but did, because somehow, without ever realizing it, they stayed.

A thought bubbles up: I never got to tell them thank you properly... but I hope somehow, they know. Because it was never about being noticed by them, but being held. Being seen in the invisibility. It was love, that was gentle, selfless, one-sided but whole. It’s a love that asked for nothing in return; a full-circle healing between you, between Carats like you, and the boys who never even knew your name, yet saved you anyway.

> Some memories never fade, even when you leave. Some songs keep you going, even when you forget how to speak. To thirteen boys who once reminded us how to stay.

You draw your knees in closer to your chest and smile. Funny, isn’t it? How music, how people, can find you even when you’re convinced you’re invisible.

It's their tenth anniversary today. Ten whole years.

Snapshot One: First Winter

“I’m not them,” you muttered, your voice shaking.

You stared at the floor. You didn’t want to shout, but if you spoke louder, you were afraid your voice would crack, so instead, you clenched your fists behind your back. “I’m doing my best.”

“I’m tired,” escaped your mouth. “You never listen when I say I’m tired.”

“Tired of what?” your father barked. “You don’t even have responsibilities yet. What do you know about being tired?”

Something in you snapped then, but it was like a crack running through glass. “I’m tired of never being enough for you.”

Snapshot Two: A Lonely Birthday

You hadn’t planned to cry on your seventeenth birthday.

Snapshot Three: Leaving Home

Because somewhere, through voices that never saw your face, in lyrics sung across languages and oceans, someone made you believe you could. And so, you did.

On the screen, they suddenly break into chaos—Mingyu falls off his chair, Dokyeom screams laughing. You snort, typical. You laugh, mouth full, and then, just like that, you remember memories.

The numbers on the calendar flew by, the seasons changed, and so did you. But the warmth Seventeen gave you, the tiny circle they once carefully drew around your heart with their fingers, stayed.

You take another bite of ramen, swallow it slowly. No matter how much changed, that gratitude never did, and neither did they.

some memories never fade, even when you leave. some songs keep you going, even when you forget how to speak. to thirteen boys who once reminded us how to stay.

⌦ 🩷🩵 © mylovesstuffs | est. 2025. thank you for reading—your reblog means everything. until we meet again, may the voices that held you once hold you always! ◜ᴗ◝

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clawsdevour · 11 months ago

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behind the dressing room curtains

wc: 1.9k content warning: smut, established relationship, public-sex, voyeurism, cunnilingus, fingering, creampie, one-shot, multi-fandom x reader, my booty writing, not proof read

✧･ﾟ

You know your man can be a bit impulsive but you didn’t know it’d lead to you both in the dressing room of a busy lingerie shop.

The other day you mentioned how you needed to purchase some new bras as the ones you’ve been wearing for about three years straight were starting to wear out. You also planned on picking up a few new panties, you know, you might as well sinceyou’re already there.

Walking into the lingerie store with your man was a mistake to say the least. At least a fun one. His wandering eyes lingered towards the erotic pieces of lingerie, which you weren’t very interested in buying but he seemed quite into it. Thus piqued your interest a tad bit.

“I think you would look so good in this” he’d say and look at you with a slight smirk, then point at the mannequin wearing the displayed undergarments.

“What makes you think I’d actually buy that?” you rolled your eyes with a slight smile on your face. He was a bit goofy to say, somewhat like taking care of a manchild, but nevertheless you liked that about him.

You picked up three of the usual type of underwear you wear daily, two bras to replace the old ones, and one red matching set that you set your heart on purchasing just to see his reaction. Before that you headed towards the dressing rooms, your boyfriend trailing behind you.

“Just sit here and wait, I need to try these on” pointing to the little sofa outside your dressing room. He nodded and sat with his phone out, waiting for you even though you knew he was somewhat impatient.

The three panties you chosen were, well, the typical regular fit that hugged your curves and ass. The two bras gave your boobs that little push they needed to look good in every shirt you’ve ever worn. The last to try on was the red lacy set. You knew this set was definitely gonna get him excited that night, as in mood and that cock of his. Just when you put on the detailed set of panties on, tits bare and out, you heard a knock on the wall.

“Hey, are you finished yet? It’s like I haven’t seen you for like a whole three hours since you been in there for so long,” the curtain of your dressing room slid slightly to the left where you were able to make eye contact with him. Your hand covered your chest while you both looked at each other in shock. Your heart raced as you realized he’s already seen his surprise that was supposed to be awaiting for him that night.

You realize people were still in the dressing rooms and could walk in and out any minute from now. You pulled him into the dressing room with you, shutting the curtain tight. Letting anyone see what just happened would be your own downfall, at least in the moment it was.

There, your lean toned boyfriend stood and looked down at your curves which were accentuated by the panties. Oh boy was he flustered and surprised, especially down there. Your breasts just barely being covered by your hands, ass almost out on full display and covered by a thin piece of red lace for panties. He was spiraling when he saw the matching bra hanging on the hook and peered back down at you. You were also embarrassed at this sudden intrusion that you did on yourself. He relaxed a bit and took a moment to realize the situation. You, all shy and cute in public, ignited something in him. You saw it when his facial expressions shifted.

“What’s the meaning of this hmm? Are you thinking about surprising me tonight?” he quietly snickered at you, trying to hide his voice from anyone who’s potentially outside. He put his thumb on your chin, leaning in.

“Maybe I was, maybe I wasn’t” you looked down and pouted in annoyance.

“You’re so cute you know that?” he grabbed your waist closer to his and kissed your neck which caused you to let out a small gasp. Your immediate reaction was to slap your hand over your mouth and your other arm to hang onto his shoulders.

“Do you really need this pair of panties, or well, the whole matching set?” he questions while he started to kneel down, pulling down the red pair of lingerie with it. You shake your head as a no, still somewhat embarrassed.

“I don’t, but if you buy it for me.. then you could see me in it every night” you whispered under your breath, trying to control your racing heart. He let out a low sneer as he lowers his mouth towards your dripping cunt.

His eye contact while licking r warm pussy clean makes you even more aroused. His thin warm tongue touching upon your bundle of nerves has your legs tense and you whimpering. You placed your right hand on your mouth to suppress the sounds you began to let out as he started to slowly go up and down your pussy with his tongue. Your left hand was pushing his head down further towards your sopping wet cunt that you, oh so wanted to get eaten. At this point, he’s grasping your ass so hard he could bruise your cheek. He pulls his head away for a moment and slips in a thick finger. You let out a low whimper as he adds in another finger and starts to edge you to the point where your head starts to tilt back.

“You look so pretty from down here. Trying to not get caught moaning for me. Even better without anything on your gorgeous body,” he mumbles to you from below, with his eyes full of lust and adoration. The words he said huffed air onto your warm pussy making you flinch a bit from the cool air.

“Do you want this dick? Hmm.. this dick? The only one that can make you feel this good?” He teased.

You nod frantically as he slips in a third finger. You whine, impatiently waiting for him to take it out from his pants. You could see the outline of his boner that wanted to be freed so bad from the tightness it created.

“Turn around for me baby,” he whispered in your ear, to which you much obliged. You were shocked to realize that behind you was the fitting room mirror. He knew what he wanted to see.

He grabs your hips and positions his cock between your drenched folds. He slides between your slit a few times to get your slick as lube before diving head first into your aching pussy.

“Just put it in.. we might get caught and I can’t wait any longer,” you complained under your breath. Expecting him to go in nice and slow, he enters you in one immense thrust causing you to let out a silent scream.

Your body was pressed against the mirror showing you what your boyfriend caused when you pulled him into the fitting room. Watching yourself get fucked brainless by your boyfriend in the dressing room was such an erotic act you’ve never done before. The act alone made you feel horny, committing it in public drove your high to go insane. Seeing each thrust he puts into you, as if abusing your walls made you let out one big moan. You’ve never put both your hands over your mouth so fast. He’s giving you silent kisses on your neck and back, also watching through the mirror. He enjoyed watching your expressions go wild due to the thrill of being in public.

“Let’s make this quick, we’ve been in this dressing room for a.. too long nngh” he murmurs into your ear before kissing your cheek. You agree and nod out an Mhm as he continues slamming his hips into yours. Suppressing your moans while fucking secretly, almost discreetly, behind a thin curtain while being able to watch you and your boyfriend's every move felt like it was gonna last forever. The adrenaline you got out of this thrilling act of indecency made you even more excited. The ramming of his dick into your pussy continuously, made your body start feeling the building tension in your abdomen. You were gonna cum and he knew it from the way you looked in the mirror.

At this point your boyfriend was also starting to chase after his release. He started to suck harder on your skin and tighten his grip on the sides of your ass, causing crescent shapes to appear on your skin.

“I’m c.. cumming..” you breathed in between moans, still, trying to subdue your voice. Your brain felt numb, your cunt was more than content while getting punished by his twitching cock. Your pussy squeezed his cock so tight he was close to climaxing.

“I.. I am too” was heard when you looked at him in the mirror. His face was twisting into his peaking expressions, knowing he was about to unleash his white goo into you in a few more thrusts.

“Cum in me. I’ll hold it in.. ah-ah.. until we’re, home..” you were able to mumble those words to him when you reached your climax. He notices that you came, knowing it’s time to finish and get out of the dressing room, he mouthed the words okay. You plot on keeping his essence in you until you go home right after you pay and leave the lingerie store. You were too tired and messy to go into another other shop after this sudden quickie.

There it was. He let out a muted groan as his white paint spreads and coats the inside of your tight walls that gripped his dick. You both were trying to stop yourselves from breathing too heavily, trying not to get caught by the workers or people around you. Careful to not let it drip out, he pushes his seed deeper into you with another thrust or two. When he pulled out, he puts his cock back into his pants and zips it back up. Quickly he scanned around the dressing room, finding the panties you came in wearing. You’re standing there, legs numb and still spread out, holding in his cum which could burst out any minute, hand still on your mouth and the mirror.

He gently sits you on the little stool the dressing room provides and kneels down to slip on your underwear and bra. Your hands grip his shoulders and you cooperate.

“My clothes..” You point at your clothes hanging on the wall, signaling him to hand over your clothes.

“Don’t worry baby, I got you” was softly spoken from his mouth as he slipped your arms into the sleeves. Pulling your shirt over you as well as your pants.You keep your arms up, he notices and helps you stand up making sure you’re able to walk normally after getting fucked brainlessly.

“I can walk, you dumbass” you said while holding onto his right shoulder.

“Well.. I think you’re gonna have to hold onto me cause it looks like you need some help” peering at you, chuckling as he grabs your bag for you and the items you took to the dressing room.

He looks back at you, cunningly. You sense a sly smirk appearing as he starts to open the curtain that you’ve both been hiding behind.

“I’ll buy you the red set you so badly wanted to wear for me.”

*.༄ GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU, CHOSO KAMO, KAEYA ALBERICH, WRIOTHESLEY, DABI, HAWKS, OIKAWA TOORU, SUNA RINTARO, KUROO TETSUROU, TSUKISHIMA KEI, ATSUMU MIYA, TANAKA RYUNOSUKE (ALL AGED UP/POST-TIME SKIP), and of course any of your favorite characters!!!

masterlist here

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fruitsywriting · 25 days ago

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Hello! Could you pls write something where the reader is struggling with addiction and is depressed about the situation. He goes to Mark when he’s sad about it and Mark doesn’t know and he ends up telling Mark what’s going on cause he feels like shit making him (mark) worry about him(reader). He and Mark have a heart to heart about it and Mark does something to cheer him up (they do something cute, like go on a walk and get food or smt fluffy idk). Thx sm

As someone who has severe depression and watched people struggle with different types of addiction, I feel like I was qualified enough to do this. Apologizes for how long this took I wanted to wait until I was done with my semester of college before answering asks.

Pairings: Mark Grayson x Male Reader

Fandom: Invincible

You don’t know when it started, time warped around in your memories to where it all became a big blur. Youll question the passage of time, how long has it truly been? The only thing that’ll stick out in memories is important events, like Mark’s Birthday.

That day stood out because while you were still struggling, it felt nice to have a time to just forget you even were. A nice distraction as you watched your boyfriend excitedly talk to you and his friends about how he loved the presents, and then how you all went out to do whatever he wanted to do. That’s when he pulled you all to the amusement park. You all warned Mark not to eat before getting on the ride but he said he went flying like that as Invincible all the time. Afterwards he was doubled over in a trashcan, not expecting all the loops and turns specifically, but also because he just ate too much. However, he still had a fun day and bounced back to normal after sitting down for just 15 minutes.

You smile tiredly at the memory before turning to your desk that had wrappers all over it- and you look at the keychain of Seance Dog that had the initials MG on the back, you and Mark getting matching ones with each other’s initials on it. Even if you weren’t entirely into the series, it made Mark happy- therefore made you happy. Then there’s the Photo Booth picture with you, Mark, Amber, William, Rick and Eve. Then the Photo Booth picture of just you and him.

You groan when you realize your phone is dead, and you scavenge among your room for the cord. There it is, right next to an empty pill bottle you never threw away. You let out a shaky sigh before plugging the cord into the wall and then into your phone. You wait for about a minute before the screen lights up and you see missed messages and calls. Shit.

[3 missed calls from Mark 💛🩵]

Mark 💛🩵: Hun? Did I do something wrong? You haven’t been answering me

Mark 💛🩵: Babe?

Mark 💛🩵: Can I come over tn? I had a rough day

Mark 💛🩵: ?

Mark 💛🩵: I’m sorry for whatever I did, I miss you. Is something going on? Please don’t shut me out

The messages make your gut coil and churn with guilt, it doesn’t feel good at all. He’s worried about you and yet you’re being a terrible boyfriend by not telling him, by being self-centered-

Then it hits you. He was like this with Amber before they broke up the first time. You were going to text but he deserves a call instead. You take a deep breath, rub your forming headache, and hit the call button.

It rings a few times before he answers, he voice sounding frantic, excited, worried, and relieved all at the same time.

“Babe- oh thank god. Oh my god I was so scared that something happened to you- or- or I did something wrong”

“No, no, you did nothing wrong. Sorry I didn’t answer, my phone was dead”

“It was dead? You used to never let it die, you were so concerned about its battery life at all times of the day” He lets out a sad chuckle.

“Yeah, I know. It’s so weird. Anyways- uh, are you okay? I saw your messages from last night”

“Uhm, I would say I’m okay but I could be better. Got a little beat up yesterday. It’s healed but it’s… not fun”

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Can I come over?”

You hesitate. You look around your room and it’s a disaster. Laundry everywhere, trash everywhere, things out of place. It looks like someone threw everything into your room and called it a day. He hears the hesitation and sighs.

“Is that a no? Usually when you hesitate it’s a no”

Nonono, you don’t want him to get the wrong idea- to think you don’t love him or have time for him anymore. Before you can think you say, “No, it’s a yes. You can come over”

“Okay, okay, oh man, I can’t wait to see you. I’ll be dressed quick and be there in 5”

“Okay great, can’t wait to see you. Love you”

“Love you too, bye”

“Bye”

As soon as he hangs up you shovel the clothes from the floor into your hands and throw it into the bottom of the closet. When he says he will be there in five, he means it. Curse him and his speedy flying- but not really because you love that man whole heartedly. You grab a trash bag and just throw shit into it, hoping nothing important gets thrown in there. You’re making progress, but because it’s scattered all across your room you also feel like you’re making no progress at all. You just freeze and stare at the floor- almost as if you want it to just disappear. You can’t get yourself to continue to move- the sight alone makes you wanna start hyperventilating. It needs to be cleaned. You need to be clean. Oh god, what does the rest of the house look like? Before you know it you’re crumpling to the ground and sobbing into your arms. It feels life shattering, but you know with a little bit of drugs- it’ll just be a silly little problem that could be melted away. You sniffle, thinking about if you took the last pill or if you still have some more left.

Knock knock knock. At your window. You can hear it behind yourself- and you feel yourself start to cry again. God, now Mark- you’re perfect superhero boyfriend- knows you’re a fucking slob with an addiction.

Knock knock knock. Sounds a little more frantic this time. Time to face the music, face your greatest fear- and it was one you knew you couldn’t escape because you couldn’t get your life together. You slowly stand up, and open the window. You expected him to recoil in disgust at your appearance and the state of your room. But no- his soft brown eyes look concerned.

“Are you okay? I thought I heard you cryin-“

The question alone brought you to tears again. He looks a little startled but fully comes into the room from your window and pulls you into a hug. You wanna pull back- telling him to get away because you’re disgusting. But you just sob into his shoulder.

“Oh hun, what’s wrong?” He asks delicately with warmth underlying. You sniffle, trying not to hiccup over every word that stumbles out of your chapped lips.

“I’m sorry” Is the first thing you say, as it is the first thing that comes to mind. You feel like you need to apologize for everything, for even existing.

“Sorry for what?” He pulls back to try and look at your face, when you look down, he doesn’t try to force you to look at him. But he just wants to gauge your facial expressions from what he can see.

“I’m- I’m a mess. Me, my room, and- and” You can’t think of a way to explain your addiction to him, or your severe depression that just kept getting worse these past few months. He doesn’t cut you off, he waits patiently for you to finish.

“I’m… I’ve been taking pills.”

You expected him to gasp, to flinch even, anything that showed horror, disgust, maybe even him being upset. But no. He lightly rubbed your arms and nodded.

“For how long?”

“2 months.”

“Okay, I’m here. Do you wanna talk about it?”

His calm response almost made you cry again. It felt so normal- not like he was brushing the problem under the rug, but like he was humanizing what you went through. Your lip quivers and you don’t know how to respond. Yes, you wanna talk about it. But also no, because you don’t trust your own voice.

“We don’t have to talk about it right now. We can just lay together, sit together, watch Tv. Whatever you want, whatever you need, I will try to make possible”

You take a few deep breaths to steady yourself, “I think I wanna shower first, if that’s okay.”

“Of course. Do you want me to order food or make food in the meantime?”

You didn’t feel hungry but it wasn’t good to not eat so you end up agreeing. You grab some fresh clothes from your closet, which isn’t much, and then head into the shower.

✮⋆˙🔮˗ˏ🖇⋆⭒˚｡⋆🎧..✮⋆˙🔮˗ˏ🖇⋆⭒˚｡⋆🎧..✮⋆˙🔮˗

After the shower, you eat the food Mark cooked for you and explain to him what has been going on. How you fell into a deep depression again and then you started using. Then you explain, with your eyes watering and your voice threatening to break, that you were ashamed. That you didn’t want to tell him because you feel gross when you get to this point, and it feels like you can’t come back. Then you hiccup and sob that you’re sorry for being distant and making him worry.

He sits there and lets you finish, before pulling you into a hug. He kisses your temple softly and explains that he understands. He doesn’t understand on a personal level but he understands your thought process and thanks you for opening up to him now.

He makes you feel sane. It isn’t like he fixed you, but you feel less insecure as he helps you clean your room and make a plan for how to navigate this moving forward. He helps with resources, if you’re willing to accept that just yet, and then helps shop for new groceries as well.

He understands it takes time too, you don’t just magically get better. He’s there for you every step of the way. He’s been understanding to you the way you were for him. When he’s in the hospital because of a fight or is bruised up, you drop whatever you're doing and rush to be there. In a way, you two understand the other's struggles without being in the same position. Perhaps you understand each other in only the way a boyfriend would. He celebrates every day you go without using, every day you’re clean instead of focusing on the fact you’ve used at all. And you patch him up (really it’s just putting kids bandaids on his bruises while the two of you laugh at how silly it is) and tell him what he did was brave and that he’s saving lives. And maybe he even saved yours.

#invincible #mark grayson #writing #invincible fanfic #mark grayson invincible #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson x male reader #male reader #mark x reader #x reader #reader insert #invincible x reader #invincible x male reader

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artyphex · 28 days ago

Note

Watching Stolas become one of the most despised characters in the Hellaverse fandom not long after I joined the fandom has been an absolutely WILD experience, and I don't mean that in a good way.

Because I still have not figured out why the opinion of Stolas as a character has flipped so drastically and with such intensity, especially because up until the Full Moon, the general opinion of him used to be way more favorable.

It’s cause we’ve watched Blitzø’s development over the last season and a half while Stolas’ development has just started

Blitzø was… not exactly hated but given a lot less grace because the joke was he sucked! He was selfish and mean and LOUD about it and it was funny!

Meanwhile Stolas seemed very sweet in comparison, or at least less actively mean.

But then the show realized it wanted to have like. Character arcs. So it started to show a different side of Blitzø. It showed us he was AWARE of his awful behavior and used it as a self destructive shield. No one can hurt you if no one loves you right? And no one can love you if you’re an awful person. Maybe it’s miserable. But it’s safe

Suddenly we’re a lot more sympathetic towards Blitzø, we see more of why he acts the way he acts and we feel for him.

Meanwhile Stolas…

Stolas is in my opinion someone who wants to be compassionate, and is in the way he knows how. But he’s so disconnected from others because it’s how he was RAISED. He never had control of his life. He was brought up told he was above everyone and MUST act like it. Which he didn’t love doing, but did, and eventually stopped noticing it.

This has left Stolas well meaning, but painfully unself-aware. So he comes off condescending, dismissive, and thoughtless because he IS. But unlike Blitzø, it isn’t deliberate. Stolas is just now learning just how detached he is from the reality of most people and he doesn’t know how to cope.

And that’s where we’re left with Stolas. He hadn’t improved because we simply haven’t gotten there in the story. We look at all of Blitzø’s development and feel frustrated with Stolas’ LACK of development but the truth is it’s coming, we just haven’t gotten there yet.

It’s more frustrating to me that people haven’t realized that, and have determined “Stolas bad” from it instead. But fandom flip flops a lot like this. I survived season 5 Jon vs Martin who’s wrong debates I can survive anything.

#helluva boss #Stolitz #typing this frantically before the lights dim in this movie theater so sorry if there’s typos

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fluentmoviequoter · 1 year ago

Text

Quit for a Reason

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader (ex-agent turned neurosurgeon)

Summary: When a suspect begins looking for you while you perform a surgery, Tim finds out why you quit your job in law enforcement.

Warnings: descriptive fight scene and injuries (stabbing), neurology terminology, depiction of brain surgery (not overly graphic), angst to fluff

Word Count: 2.1k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Picture from Pinterest

“I have to work a double shift today,” Tim complains, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he pulls you closer.

“How will I survive?” you ask playfully, turning to kiss his cheek.

“That’s what you miss most, right? The unpredictable hours, the sleepless nights. Paradise for a cop.”

“Yeah. That’s what I miss about being an agent,” you agree with a smile. “Definitely not all of the times I got to see you throughout the day.”

“Uncalled for. I’ll try to call if I get a chance.”

“I’ve got a couple surgeries today, so I may not answer. Nothing personal.”

“Feels personal.”

Your smile falls, and Tim immediately catches your shifting mood.

“How are you?” he asks. “I know it’s been a while since you switched careers, but making a change that big can’t be easy.”

“I- I’m still helping people, I know that. Just, some days it feels like I made a mistake.”

“You had your reasons.”

“Are you-“

“Mad that you haven’t talked about what happened? Not at all. It’s your life, your decision, and if or when you want to tell me, you already know you have my support. You were the best agent and now you’re the best neurosurgeon. I’m with you,” Tim answers, tapping your wedding ring as he says he’s with you.

“Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you.”

✯✯✯✯✯

As you prepare for your first surgery of the day, you force any thoughts of Tim out of your mind, focusing entirely on the job at hand.

“Dr. Bradford,” a nurse calls, running down the hallway. “We’ve got a cop in the ER with a brain herniation. He needs emergency surgery.”

“Get Dr. Davidson to operate on the patient in OR 2,” you command. “I’ll perform the emergency. Have someone get the rest of my scheduled patients seen to!”

You run down the hall, praying and begging for it not to be Tim. You’ve operated on many cops, and you hate when any of them come into the hospital. When you don’t know who it is, though, you immediately worry about Tim.

“Dr. Bradford,” one of the ER nurses calls. “We’ve got the OR prepped.”

“Who’s the officer?” you ask, pushing a door open to sanitize and prepare for the surgery.

“Detective Caradine,” he answers. “The first opinion is a brain herniation.”

“What type?”

“Unknown.”

“Let Detectives Harper and Lopez know that he’s in surgery,” you say before securing your mask and entering the operating room.

As you begin operating, looking for the source of the problem, memories of your time as a law enforcement officer in one of these rooms threaten to break your focus.

“What caused the unconsciousness and loss of brainstem reflexes?” you ask one of the nurses.

“Head injury during an altercation with a suspect according to the officers who brought him in,” she answers.

“The officers brought him in? Not an ambulance?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“The brain stem is compressed,” you deduce. “Upward transtentorial herniation. We need to get the pressure off his brain tissue to relax the posterior ventricles before it’s irreversible.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Detective Harper? Detective Lopez?” Celina calls. “A doctor at Shaw Memorial just called. Caradine is in emergency surgery.”

“What happened?” Nyla demands.

“He hit his head during a fight, I believe. Lost consciousness.”

“Who’s the surgeon?” Angela asks.

“Uh, Dr. Bradford,” Celina reads. “Wait-“

“Yeah, it’s Tim’s wife,” Nyla answers.

✯✯✯✯✯

You move the scalpel away from a new incision just before a gunshot echoes. Closing your eyes briefly, you continue working, demanding one of the nurses block the door.

“Someone is looking for him, I’d guess,” you say. “But I need all of you to stay calm and focused on this patient or get out of the way. I won’t hold it against you if you walk away and stay at the side.”

One of the nurses takes your offer, moving to the corner and sitting on the floor.

“The rest of you are with me?”

“Yes, doctor,” they answer.

You nod, looking for the brain tissue causing the brain stem compression.

“Nurse,” you call to the woman in the corner. “If you have your phone, call 911 and let them know.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Sergeant Bradford,” Wade says. “We’ve got a situation that you may want to know about.”

“What is it?” Tim replies.

“Caradine’s in surgery at Shaw, and your wife is operating. But we’ve got armed suspects in the hospital. We assume they’re looking for him, but with her past I thought you’d want to know.”

“Her past?” Tim repeats. “What are you talking about?”

“She didn’t tell you?”

“Sergeant Grey, someone called the tip line,” Nolan interrupts. “With a threat against Caradine and Dr. Bradford.”

“What past?” Tim demands.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Uh, someone- one of the nurses in pediatrics just texted me,” the nurse alerts.

“And?” you press. “Never mind, save it. He’s going into cardiac arrest.”

“CSF drain is inserted, doctor. Beginning chest compressions.”

“I’m removing a skull fragment, unless anyone has an objection,” you alert.

“Do it,” one of the new residents agrees. “CSF is draining, but not fast enough. If there’s going to be a chance of his recovery, we need to keep that swelling away from his medulla, or he’ll lose breathing and blood flow, correct?”

“Correct, and well done. I’m starting the removal now.”

“Doctor Bradford,” the nurse in the corner repeats.

“What?” you ask, your voice short as your attention is focused elsewhere.

“There’s a man with a gun looking for you and the patient. Someone called the police but-“

“Nothing we can do now. Stay over there and stay quiet.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“I’m not sure it’s my place to show you this,” Wade argues.

“Just press the button. My wife’s life is at stake and if there’s any chance this will help me save her, I’m watching it.”

Wade sighs as he presses play. A grainy security cam feed comes on, showing a warehouse. The date catches Tim’s attention: almost ten years ago.

You walk into the warehouse, responding to a noise complaint. Unable to hear a thing besides your footsteps, you call out, asking if anyone is inside. Pulling your radio from your hip, you tell dispatch it was a false alarm.

As you lower the radio, someone moves in the shadows, knocking the radio out of your hand and tackling you to the floor. A blade glints in the minimal light of the building, raised over your throat before you push it away, grunting in pain as you flip, your knees hitting the concrete beneath you.

Tim’s breath catches, unable to look away as he watches you fight for your life. He forgets that this video is a decade old, when you were still dating, and his worry for you builds as if you’re currently engaged in this fight.

You slip, falling forward as the man takes advantage, pushing you onto your back and kneeling against your legs. As you lean toward him, he plunges the knife into your torso. Your pained scream fills Wade’s office, and as the knife is removed and inserted again, your scream changes into an adrenaline-filled yell as you shove the man off of you, standing with the knife hanging from your stomach as you push him against the wall. After handcuffing him to a nearby post, you crawl across the floor and radio for an R/A before collapsing.

“How did I not know about this? We were dating!” Tim exclaims. “I should have done something, anything!”

“Clearly, she didn’t want you to know, didn’t want to talk about it at least. But now you have a chance to do something, Tim,” Wade replies. “Go help her out of this mess.”

✯✯✯✯✯

With the lights and sirens on, Tim races to the hospital as fast as he can. His mind plays through memories of you. The canceled dates around the time of the attack, followed by clinginess and a deep need to constantly be around Tim, begin to make sense. More than that, Tim can’t remember the last time he saw your stomach; what he mistook for insecurity or modesty was likely hiding scars. Alone in his shop, he knows he must remind you that he loves you, no matter your scars, career choice, or what you do and don’t share with him. He knows you had a reason to keep it to yourself, but he knows better than most how dangerous it can be to keep your pain, your scars, and your fear to yourself.

Silencing the sirens as he approaches the hospital entrance, Tim rushes past the barricade, his mind on protecting you and Caradine.

✯✯✯✯✯

“That’s all we can do for him,” you say. “How are his vitals?”

“They’re steady,” the anesthesiologist answers. “His BP’s a little low, but it’s steady.”

“Caradine! Bradford!” someone yells down the hall. “Your time of reckoning is here!”

“Move him,” you demand. “Wheel everything toward the wall, away from the window.”

While you wait beside Caradine’s head, out of sight as you check his vitals and the new stitches lining his scalp, you hope that the LAPD are working on catching the man yelling for you.

“We need to wake him up,” the resident says. “If we don’t do it now…”

“He may not wake up,” you finish. “Go ahead.”

While the anesthesiologist and the resident begin working on restoring his consciousness, you move toward the door. Something knocks against it as you approach.

“I’m coming in to finish it this time! Wasn’t expecting a two for one!” the man yells.

“Give me your phone,” you ask the nurse, quickly dialing a number you'll never forget.

“Bradford,” Tim answers.

“Tim,” you say quietly. “Caradine knew his name. It’ll be in a file.”

“Yours?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah.”

“I’ll have Harper find it. I’m in the hospital; where are you?”

“Emergency OR 1. Tim, be careful.”

“I will. But you need to be careful, too. I love you.”

“I love you.”

The call ends, and you press yourself against the wall as you listen to the man who tried to kill you once get in to try again.

“LAPD, show me your hands!” an officer yells outside.

“Step away from the door!” Tim adds.

You sigh at the sound of his voice, but when someone yells “No!” you have an idea of what will happen.

“Everybody down!” you call, shielding Caradine as a few bullets rip through the door.

The noise in the hall dies nearly immediately. You take a shaky breath as you check yourself and Caradine for new injuries.

“Let me in,” Tim says at the door.

You nod at the nurse closest to the door. Tim rushes in, pressing a hand to your back.

“Get him to a room for observation,” you tell your operating team. “And then go home.”

Looking toward Tim as the room clears, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing your chest to his.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” you whisper. “But, a few years ago...”

“Hey,” Tim interrupts, his arms hooked around your waist. “Wade showed me the video. But you still don’t have to talk about it until you’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” you promise. “But can we go home first?”

“I was hoping you’d ask that.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Propped against an obnoxiously large pile of pillows, you tell Tim about what happened in the warehouse. He listens to every word, stiffening when he hears something that wasn’t in the video or your comments that thinking about getting back to him gave you something to fight for. As you finish the story, Tim pinches the hem of your shirt between his fingers, looking up at you for permission.

“You can,” you whisper.

He gently pushes your shirt to your waist, keeping his eyes on the scars littering your torso. Running a gentle finger across the largest of them, Tim frowns as you suppress a shiver.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur sadly.

“Not you,” Tim insists. “I’m sorry that I didn’t know, that I wasn’t here for you.”

“You were.”

Tim furrows his brows, and you pull his left hand from your stomach, showing him his wedding ring. “You gave me something to fight for, something to live for. And even without knowing why I quit, you knew that I had to have a good reason, and you supported me every step of the way. You love me, Tim, and you made sure I knew.”

“You don’t have to do it alone. I do love you, and I know you love me, but that’s not a reason to protect me from whatever you’re dealing with.”

Tim ducks his head to kiss your stomach, and you laugh, which causes him to smile and push himself up, rolling to your side to kiss you, showing you that he means every word he says.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie #requests #fem!reader #tw: injury

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belovedhoon · 1 month ago

Text

Crazy Stupid Fun

paring: nicholas x f! reader fandom: &team wc: 2.5k contains: smut, fake dating, e2l

synopsis: After a stupid dare from your friends, you and nicholas (whom you hate) are forced to “date”...what more can go wrong?

fic under cut >>>>>>>

You’ve made a lot of dumb choices in your life…but this just had to be the dumbest choice you have ever made… Why in your right mind would you ever agree to date Nicholas? Oh yeah that’s right…you weren’t in your right mind, you were drunk and thought you could easily get 200 bucks from your friends by dating the bane of your existence Nicholas Wang for a month. You were never one to turn down a dare, so that brings you to last week’s party…

“A month for 200 dollars? That’s ridiculously easy, bro…” Nicholas all but slurred out in response to K’s stupid dare that you and Nicholas should date for a month, and if you two can keep up with dating, then the both of you get 200 dollars each. You narrowed your eyes slightly before nodding slowly in response. This shouldn’t be too hard, even if you and Nicholas didn’t get along very well. All you had to do was say you’re ‘dating’ and then ignore him for a month, just like normal…right? But, of course, it’s never that easy…

It’s been a week since that stupid bet with your friends to ‘date’ Nicholas, and it’s going pretty well so far, seeing as you haven’t interacted or seen Nicholas since the party. This was gonna be an easy 200 dollars. You were sitting in the cafeteria in Founders Hall with your group of friends, and unfortunately, Nicholas too, when they, of course, addressed the elephant in the room.

“So we’ve noticed that since you and Nicho here have been dating, neither of you has so much as even interacted with the other… That doesn’t really seem like dating to me…just saying…” Euijoo said, a small smirk on his face. You whipped your head towards him as everyone just started agreeing with him.

“You know, Ej, I like you better when you’re quiet.” You grumbled out to the man. He just laughed at your snarky reply. “Do we have to talk and be around each other every day to be dating?” You said, sighing. You could already tell your friends were gonna say something stupid.

“No, we’re not saying you have to see each other every day, but you could at least try to act like you’re dating. Kiss, go on dates, hold hands, kiss…” Fuma said with a sinister grin on his face. Nicholas just scoffed at that, and you just grimaced at the thought of doing any of those things with Nicholas. “Actually, since you guys seem to be wasting our time here, I think we should extend the dating period to 3 months instead, since you two don’t wanna act like a couple,” Fuma said, like the little menace he is. And leave it to your friends to all agree with the evil man. Your eyes widened, and you started to protest. You thought Nicholas would do the same, but he just got up, grabbed your face, and quickly kissed you straight on the lips, causing you to freeze.

“There, is that good enough?” Nicholas scoffed, but there was no bite behind his words. Your eyes widened before you recoiled in surprise.

“What the hell, Nicholas?!” You exclaimed. Nicholas released your face with an amused smirk, enjoying the look of shock on your face.

“I’m tired of their nagging. At least this way they’ll shut up.” Nicholas said, sitting back down in his chair and leaning back. He crossed his arms while maintaining his signature cocky expression. “Remember, you were the one who also agreed to this ridiculous bet. Maybe you should learn to deal with the consequences of your actions better.” He said smugly. You glared at him before huffing out a quick “whatever.”

Nicholas rolls his eyes at your dismissive attitude, but there’s a hint of something else in his expression that you can’t quite place.

“Whatever? That’s all you’ve got? After I just sacrificed my dignity kissing you in front of everyone?” He scoffs before suddenly standing up, towering over you with a challenging look in his eyes. The whole table was silent and in shock over what was occurring at this moment. “You know what? Let’s give them a real show then.” He says before grabbing your hand firmly.

“W-What?” You stutter out, surprised by the way he’s acting. Nicholas just maintains his grip on your hand, pulling you closer despite your protests.

“C’mon, Princess. They’re still watching. We might as well make it convincing.” Nicholas says, smirking. He gestures to your group of friends, who are watching with mixed expressions of shock and amusement. “I can tell you’re just as annoyed as I am. Let’s show them we’re a convincing couple for once.” He says once more. You look at him, then at your friend,s then back at him again.

“Fine.” You say sighing. Nicholas’s eyes widen slightly at your agreement, clearly not expecting it. His confident facade falters for a moment.

“Well, that was easy. But we need to sell this properly…” He says. Then he steps closer, lowering his voice to avoid being heard by your friends. “Do you trust me for once? We’ll get out of this stupid dare for good after this.” He says quietly, just for you to hear. You just nod slightly.

“Fine, I trust you..Just this once, though.” You whisper quietly to him. A genuine smile flickers across his face before he quickly masks it with his usual cocky smirk.

“Good choice. Now, act natural and just..” He says barely above a whisper before he suddenly pulls you closer against his chest, one hand gently resting on your lower back while the other cups your cheek. “This time, let’s give them something real to talk about.” He says so lowly that only you could hear.

“Let’s do this…” You say quietly. Nicholas leans down, his breath warm against your lips as he pauses for a moment.

“You know, for someone who hates me, you’re being surprisingly cooperative.” He observes. His fingers then trace a gentle path along your jawline before tilting your face up towards his. “But I like this side of you better than your usual attitude. Anyways, I’m ready when you are…” He says, every breath coming out warm against your lips. His other hand presses gently against your lower back, keeping you close while giving you the chance to back out. You nod slowly, letting out a small “I’m ready…”

Nicholas’s lips meet yours in a surprisingly tender kiss, different from the quick peck before. He deepens it slightly, maintaining control while allowing you to set the pace. The background fades away as he becomes your sole focus, his cologne and warmth enveloping your senses. He pulls back after a few moments, his cheeks slightly flushed despite his usual composure. Your friends’ cheers and whistles echo in the background.

“Well, that was cute…but you two still have to finish the month…” K said, laughing at you two when you both turned to him with a glare. You two begin to protest when Fuma interrupts.

“How about this? We’ll lessen the time if you two can agree to go on a date and actually follow through with the date.” Fuma says, trying to compromise between you two. You and Nicholas begrudgingly agree. You and Nicholas decide that the two of you will go on said mentioned date on Saturday, which is in two days from now, so that you two have time to prepare. The boys decide that they’re in charge of planning the date, so it’s settled that Nicholas will take you to the carnival that’s in town.

You were surprisingly super nervous for your date with Nicholas tonight… You definitely tore through your closet to find something to wear, but you’d never admit that to anyone… You finally decided on a cute pink mini skirt with heart-shaped pockets and a white cropped tank, You threw on a cute cardigan that matched the shade of pink of your skirt and called it a day. Just as you were putting on your white sneakers, you heard a knock on your front door. You opened it to see Nicholas standing there with a single pink rose. You took in his appearance, and you had to admit he looked so good in his simple, tight-fitted black t-shirt and black oversized jeans. ‘Simple but effective,’ you thought.

“You look pretty…” Nicholas said, holding out the rose that coincidentally matched your outfit. You could feel your face flush at his words, thanking him softly. “So uh, are you ready to go?” Nicholas asked, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, his face also flushed slightly. You nodded before grabbing your keys and locking the door. Nicholas led you to his sleek black car, opening the door for you and then walking to his side and starting it up. The ride to the carnival was short but filled with an awkward silence…The two of you not knowing how to react to this situation.

When you got to the carnival, Nicholas got out and rushed to open your door and the two of you proceeded to walk beside each other around the carnival. You two made your way over to the games, and Nicholas won the game on his first chance, which in turn got him to win a cute Kuromi plush, which he gave to you. You smiled graciously, excited to add another Sanrio plush to your collection.

“Hey Nicholas, wanna go on that scary house ride?” You asked him. He just nodded before leading you to the scary-looking entrance. You two walked inside the dark building, walking around and jumping at the scary sounds and animatronics. You grabbed Nicholas's hand in fear as another terrifying clown jumped up at you. Nicholas flinched out of surprise but didn’t let go of your hand. He led you two to this one door that honestly didn’t look normal, but you two proceeded to walk through it anyway. As you two walked in, the door suddenly locked in place, startling you two.

“Uh, was that supposed to happen?” Nicholas asked, confused. You turned to him with panic in your eyes. You tried to open the door but to no avail. Nicholas tried as well, but with no luck…You two were trapped. You started to freak out because of it being dim in the room and the fact that you were trapped…

“Hey, it’s okay, Y/N. Don’t panic, we’ll get out, someone will come looking for us.” Nicholas said calmly. You nodded with tears in your eyes. Nicholas sighed before grabbing you and pulling you into an embrace to help calm you. You sobbed as you held onto him. He tilted your head up and made you look into his eyes. His eyes glanced down at your lips before looking back into your eyes. He then leaned down slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to, but you didn’t…You wanted him to kiss you. So, he did just that. He kissed you softly, his hand still on your cheek, gently. You deepened the kiss, your hands gripping his shirt tightly. Nicholas traced his tongue against your bottom lip, to which you parted your lips to grant him access. He slipped his tongue in your mouth, tangling with your own, causing you both to let out a moan. Nicholas traced his other hand up and dwon your back soothingly before he brought it down to your ass and grabbed softly. You let out a whimper at the feeling. You pulled away from the kiss, breathless.

“Nicho…I-I want you…” You let out softly, slightly embarrassed to admit such a thing. Nicholas’s eyes widened slightly before nodding. He turned you around so that you were facing the door. You placed your hands on the door, and Nicholas then flipped your skirt up to expose your soaked white lace panties to his eyes. He groaned at the sight, pulling the ruined fabric down your legs, letting you step out of them. He spread your legs slightly to give him more room before taking two fingers and running them up and down your folds before circling your clit. You whined out as he easily slipped those two fingers inside you. “Nicho, please, I need you now…” You moaned out needily.

“Wait love, I need to stretch you for my cock.” Nicholas groaned out at the feeling of you clenching so tightly around his fingers. He then began to thrust his fingers inside you at a steady pace, which in turn caused you to whine out your pleasure. He kept up the pace as he brought his other hand to your clit and began to rub it harshly. You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening embarrassingly fast at his actions. Just when you felt the knot about to unravel, he pulled his fingers out and placed them in his mouth, holding eye contact with you as you looked over your shoulder at him. He sucked on his fingers groaning at the taste of you on his tongue.

Nicholas brought his hands down to his jeans ans unbuttoned and unzipped them enough to pull his thick throbbing cock out. He pushed you up against the door again and brought his swollen tip to run through your folds before pushing it inside of you in one harsh thrust. You all but screaming out at the sudden intrusion. From the first thrust, Nicholas set a brutal pace, ramming into you from behind. Nicholas brought his hand to your neck and held it there to hold you up against his chest as he kept up his fast, harsh pace.

“That little skirt of yours has been driving me crazy all night…I’ve been hard ever since you opened the door to your apartment…” Nicholas growled out. You just whimpered in response, not being able to form words because of how good he was making you feel. You whined out as your high suddenly out of nowhere crashed into you. You clenched tightly around his swollen cock, soaking it with your juices. Nicholas hissing at the feeling, spilling his seed inside you unexpectedly. He groaned as he thrust sloppily to ride out your highs. He pulled out of you, rubbing your back soothingly, then helped you put your panties back on. Just as you two fixed yourselves up, you heard the door finally opening. Light flooding the room.

“Are you two okay?” The ride attendant asked you. You both looked at each other and smirked before nodding.

“We’re more than okay now, thank you…” Nicholas replied before the attendant led you two out of the ride. The whole time, your mind was racing with what just happened. Maybe you and Nicholas didn’t hate each other as much as you thought…

#&team smut #&team #&team x reader #&team hard thoughts #&team hard hours #kpop smut #kpop #kpop fic #kpop fluff #&team nicholas #&team fluff #nicholas wang #wang yixiang #nicholas

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ludwig-van-gaythoven · 1 year ago

Text

Cabin Fever - (Regina George x F Reader) Part 5

Fandom;

Mean Girls (2024)

Pairings:

Regina George x Reader

Summary:

The students of Northshore go on a school trip for a week in the forest. You end up getting to know the apex predator in a way you’d never seen her before.

Warnings;

Underage smoking, underage drinking, Claustrophobia, homophobia mention

Parts;

Part1// Part 2// Part 3// Part 4// Part 5// Part 6

“Why the fuck is Regina in your room? Why are you even speaking to her? Dude! Fucking answer me!”

Janis’s voice is so loud down the tiny phone speaker that it makes it buzz like an annoying little mosquito.

You scowl and resist the creeping urge to hang up, and throw your phone far far away, maybe off a cliff. You click the volume down and try and muffle the sound of Janis ranting down the speaker by shoving the receiver deep into your pocket, but it’s too late.

Regina has already left. Her bedsheets are left thrown back and crumpled, she usually fixes the blankets back to perfection so she clearly left in a hurry.

You grab your jacket with a huff and stomp outside the cabin to stand in your usual smoking spot and light a much needed cigarette before putting the phone up to you ear.

Janis is still yelling, finishing a sentence you didn’t hear the start of. Some accusation about alliances with the enemy.

“Fucking hell, Janis! It’s not that big of a deal!” You finally snap.

The phone goes silent. It’s a welcome break but you know she’ll start up again.

“Yeah sure, my best friend suddenly being pals with Regina George, not a big deal.” She snarks. “Can I just remind you, that bitch nearly ruined my life! Is that why you’re ignoring my calls? Because you’re too busy becoming plastic?”

You sigh. “It’s not like that.”

That’s true. You haven’t been morphed into some sort of Barbie doll all of a sudden just because you spent some time with Regina. To be truthful, you realise Regina isn’t really like that either. She’s a little messy, she’s flawed, but you think she’s more perfect like that. Your face softens slightly at the memory of yesterday, her mascara dripping down her cheeks with a big grin plastered on her face. She wears a fake mask to protect anyone from seeing her real personality. You get it. It’s easier to take a rejection when you haven’t really shown your true identity.

Your heart aches to defend her. To tell Janis to back off, but you can’t. She wouldn’t understand.

“Look, she got roomed with me because she got drunk with Gretchen and Karen on the first night so the teachers wanted to split them up.” You explain as calmly as you can while your blood boils beneath the surface.

“So why didn’t you think to mention this when I called last?” She snaps back. She’s caught you there.

“Because I knew you’d go all revenge-crazed and pissed off like this!” You shout back. You hear Janis scoff.

“Whatever, I don’t give a shit about Regina. She literally means nothing to me! Less than nothing, I just want to see that bitch suffer-“

“Then why can’t you stop talking about her!” As soon as the words leave your mouth you regret them.

“Fuck you, man.” She doesn’t even give you a second before hanging up.

You take a long draw of the cigarette that’s spent most of its time burning away between your fingers. You felt guilty about arguing with Janis, she’d been your best friend since the start of high school, and you could still see the pain that Regina had caused was still playing on her. You didn’t know the full details but you knew that Regina had outed her in a cruel way and made her out to be obsessed just so she could be with a boy. But that was a while ago, people can change.

So why hadn’t you been able to tell her that you liked girls when she hinted at it? You couldn’t even trust her fully.

You couldn’t help your mind wandering to where Regina might be. That seems to be all you can think about recently. Regina. You never fell for her Queen Bee attitude, high school drama was boring to you, you’d rather steer clear of it. But this new, playful, carefree side to her? You couldn’t get enough of.

She’s probably snuck off to meet Gretchen and Karen. You were surprised that she’d actually followed rules for once and not gone to meet them yet. Was it because you had been there with her instead? She said last night that she had enjoyed hanging out with you.

How much of the phone call had she heard before she left?

You light another cigarette. It’s not like you to chain smoke like this but you can’t help it when you’re stressed. The smoke whirls out in front of you, lines of wispy grey entangle and then disappear in-front of your eyes.

You head back inside the cabin when you’re done. Regina still isn’t back.

You lift your bedsheets ready to try unsuccessfully to get some sort of rest and find tiny pieces of paper, shredded on your mattress. It’s the drawing Regina took.

She clearly heard more than she was meant to.

You brush it onto the floor, not bothering to collect the tiny scraps, that felt more like little broken pieces of your soul.

When you finally close your eyes you’re back in the clearing. This time you don’t feel afraid and you automatically start scanning the shadows between the trees. A pair of blue eyes catch yours, as usual, but as soon as you take a step forward,the big cat slinks back into the shadows and disappears.

When you wake up, Regina still isn’t back. Your stomach sinks. She probably won’t want to speak to you ever again, you won’t even get a chance to explain.

You know you have to be up and ready in 20 minutes but you don’t want to get out of bed, or risk bumping into Regina.

It’s pretty hot outside and you’re not sure what the activity will be today so you put on a black tank and some loose khaki trousers. Regina must have been back when you were asleep because her bed is made and her cupboard door is left open.

When you go over to the campfire pit, she is already there. She’s standing around with the usual two girls but she’s also next to Shane Oman.

That makes you nauseous. He’s grinning and so obviously checking Regina out.

She starts running her hand up and down his bicep and over his chest, giggling and leaning into him. He’s loving it and has a hand around her waist. You turn around so you don’t have to look at whatever show they’re putting on.

It feels like she’s doing it just to spite you.

Seeing her that close to him makes your stomach knot with jealousy, it shouldn’t, it’s not like you’re together.

“Okay everyone listen up! Today and tomorrow are the last days of camp, so you will be hiking and setting up your own camp for tonight. This will combine all of the skills you have learnt this week!” There’s a dull chatter of excitement as maps are passed around and people start getting into groups.

You secretly hoped you’d be paired in cabin groups so Regina might actually hear you out and stop being so pissed off. It would get her away from Shane too.

Much to your annoyance, you’re told you have to pair up with Regina, Gretchen, Karen and Shane because apparently it’s unsafe to go alone.

You’d actually rather be eaten by a bear.

Each group is given a tent, you’re given two, the teachers tell you Shane has to stay in one separately but you know that won’t happen. You’re hoping you can just keep that tent for yourself. You’re also given other supplies like cooking utensils, scissors, a mallet, rope etc.

Shane offers to carry both tents in a pitiful attempt to seem strong and manly. Regina plays straight into it and makes a big deal out of grabbing Shane’s hand and feeling his arms.

It makes you roll your eyes. You’re sure you see the corners of Regina’s lips curve in a smirk.

You end up carrying one of the tents anyway, it’s pretty heavy but at least it gives you an excuse to stay at the back of the group, it’s not like you’ll have anything to talk to them about.

Regina walks in-front of you with Karen and Gretchen on one side, and Shane on the other. You’re pretty sure everyone has forgotten your existence, apart from Regina perhaps.

She’s wearing a black crop top and baby pink mini skirt, it makes being behind the group kind of worth it.

After about 2 hours you get to a dead end, there’s a large rock ledge with a few crude dips for you to put your hands and feet to climb up. There are thick shrubs either side to stop anyone going around. This must be what they meant by testing the skills you’d learnt.

Regina goes up first, Shane is standing almost directly underneath her and is grinning to himself. It makes your stomach turn. She climbs up easily, and stands with her arms folded impatiently when she gets to the top.

Shane goes up next, again making a big deal of being so manly, he practically jumps from one step to re other up the ledge. It makes you cringe. He looks more like an ape.

Regina catches your expression and as soon as he’s up she’s all over him again. Is this some sort of punishment? But why would she be trying to make you jealous that way?

You go up last. It’s not too high so you’re not really afraid.

“Don’t fall, loser.” Regina spits and the whole group burst out laughing.

It stings but you ignore it and carry on walking behind them once you reach the top. Whatever she’s trying to do, to get under your skin, to piss you off, you’re not going to give her the satisfaction.

You notice Shane’s hand sneak down from her waist towards her ass and Regina visibly stiffens and moves away slightly.

Soon enough you come to a small opening in the rocks, must be the second challenge. Even from behind you see Regina tense up. It’s just a narrow crawl space that likely pops out quickly on the other side. There’s a wall of rock that seems impossible to climb that looks to go on for a while either side.

Shane goes through first, followed by Gretchen and Karen.

“I’m not fucking doing that.” Regina huffs once it’s just the two of you, raising her hands. “I’ll walk around.”

“It looks like you’ll be walking for a while.” You try and reason, but she’s already started walking.

“I’ll come with you.” You’re not sure why you offer. The suns setting slightly and you don’t like the idea of Regina going alone. Even if it is just a few minutes to walk around the obstacle.

You follow behind in silence as she walks along the rock wall, thinking about all the things you wish you could say. I’m sorry about what Janis said, I don’t agree with her. I like hanging out with you, I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, inside and out.

You want to reach out and take her hand like she was doing with Shane, especially since now you know how soft she is.

You want to gently cup her face and kiss her, feel her soft lips and be intoxicated by her warm vanilla scent. You want to ask her on a date, maybe go to the movies, take her for a nice dinner, kiss her on the front porch.

All the things she’s probably done, or will do with Shane.

It feels like you’re walking for ages, it’s quite a lot darker than when you started. Regina keeps a quick pace ahead of you. Her face fixed in a permanent scowl.

You finally turn the corner and see the entrance to the small cave.

Nobody is there, they’ve left. How long did it even take you to walk round anyway?

“What the FUCK.” She screams. It’s so loud you swear you see birds scattering off their branches. “What bitches!”

She growls and flops down, sitting on a fallen tree trunk. You can see a glimmer of hurt and confusion in her eyes.

“It’s getting dark. We have one of the tents , we should set up some kind of camp.” You say, dropping the tent bag on the floor.

“Whatever. I’m not helping though.” She huffs. You don’t bother arguing, you can tell she’s hurt and you don’t want to make things worse.

You unzip the tent bag and start pulling out poles. There are no instructions and all of the poles look identical. You start arranging them in a way that sort of resembles a tent, you bend the long metal pole and try to force it into a fabric sleeve of the tent material, you think it’s secure and let go but it pings back up with such a force that the whole structure jumps. You leap back, the metal projectile misses your face by millimetres.

Regina’s watching you with an amused expression. It makes you blush. At least she’s in a better mood.

After about an hour of wrestling with tent fabric and poles, you’ve made a structure. You’re not sure if you can call it a tent, or if it’ll stay up but it provides some cover.

As night draws close it gets significantly colder so you collect some wood and dry grass for a small fire. Luckily you always carry your lighter so it was simple enough to start. Both you and Regina sit opposite sides of the fire, on the floor, the smoke isn’t as thick as the silence between you.

You dig around in your bag, hoping that maybe you packed some supplies from the bag the teachers gave you. The others must have most of the food and cooking equipment.

You did pack one thing

Marshmallows.

You hold the bag up to Regina who giggles and finds two thin sticks for you to roast them on over the fire. Neither of you speak still as you hold the stick, turning it every now and then.

You remember one other thing you packed secretly in your bag, you rifle through again and pull out a small hip flask of vodka and take a swig. With no mixer, the liquid burns all the way down to your stomach, you offer it to Regina who grimaces but takes the flask.

You sit for a while, toasting Marshmallows and passing the hip flask back and forth before one of you is buzzed enough to speak.

“You and Shane make a good couple.” You’re not sure why you even say it, you don’t think that at all. Regina seems tense around him and you’re pretty sure he’s only after one thing.

“I know.” She responds flatly. It’s unconvincing.

You swallow another dreadful mouthful of vodka. It feels like willingly swallowing paint thinner.

“Why did you screw over Janis?”

Her brows furrow, she reaches for the flask and takes a drink. That was definitely the wrong thing to say but the vodka makes words tumble out before your brain has a chance to screen them.

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I guess you think I’m a bad person.” She doesn’t meet your gaze and her tone sounds defeated and a little ashamed.

“ I don’t.” You say quickly. “You must have had a reason.”

“Yeah… I did.” She sighs.

You decide not to push it any further.

“Are you looking forward to camp being over?” You decide to try and divert the conversation.

“Not really, there’s not as much pressure here to perform. I don’t like being a bitch you know, it’s just school, it’s survival of the fittest.” She starts “Out here I feel free. I actually miss middle school, I wish I never went to that party, or kissed Janis. I’m sick of everyone thinking I’m fake, nobody treats me like an actual person.”

She looks up at the night sky, a small tear running down her cheek, catching the moonlight which makes it look like a diamond.

“Being with you has felt free.”

Your heart skips a beat. You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol but you get the courage to go and sit next to her. You gently put your arm around her shoulders and she relaxes into you.

You fit together like a puzzle.

You look up and scan the stars with your eyes and find what you’re looking for. You point up to 3 stars in a row.

“There’s Orion’s Belt. Those 3 stars are several times bigger than the sun, and they burn tens of thousands of times brighter.”

Her gaze falls to where you’re pointing.

“It kind of reminds me of you, Karen and Gretchen.” Regina laughs at this. “You shine brighter than anyone else at the school. I know what you mean about just trying to survive, just try not to burn so bright you burn out. You’re perfect enough as you are.”

She sighs, her hand is on your lap now and you struggle to concentrate on the stars.

“And that one sort of looks like a lion” You point up again, Orion’s Belt is the only one you recognise. Luckily this makes her giggle more.

She lifts her head at the same time you turn. She’s so close you can see the stars reflecting in her eyes. In this moment you realise you have two options.

A look of hesitation crosses her face and she starts to pull away.

You make a sudden, probably stupid decision.

As soon as your lips meet you see stars explode behind your eyelids. Her lips are just as soft as you imagined, it takes a second before she’s kissing you back. Her hands reach up and tangle in your hair. It’s gentle and rough all at the same

You pull away. “ I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t-“

She cuts you off with another quick, soft kiss.

“I’m tired, I’m going to sleep.” She says, standing and walking over to the tent which is shockingly still standing.

You’re left, sitting on the ground next to the now dwindling fire, kept warm by the redness in your cheeks. You pull out a cigarette and light it on the smouldering fire.

The star lion in the sky beams down at you.

#wlw #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george fanfic #regina george x reader #regina george x you #mean girls #mean girls fanfic #renee rapp #cabin fever

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