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#i never go out of my way to always see what someone is doing
ms-demeanor · 1 day
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On insurance: I still live with my parents and don't know a lot yet about the sorts of things adults usually have to spend money on. I've always been skeptical of things like insurance and credit cards because it seems to me they wouldn't be selling that if they didn't expect to make money from it. I talked to my cousin a while ago about credit cards and basically came to the conclusion that they do that because they're betting on the customer getting sloppy and letting their debts stack up, and the way you beat that and get money from credit card companies is just by being careful.
I'm a little more confused about insurance though because it seems much more straightforwardly like a gamble they will simply not take if it won't pay off for them. Like, you don't go to a casino because every game they play at a casino is one they've done the math on and have determined that statistically most people will lose money on most of the time. Is insurance not kinda the same? Where they estimate the risk and then charge you an amount calculated to make sure it probably won't be worth it for you?
I know if you have a car you legally need car insurance so everyone knows you can pay for another car if you crash into someone, and I gather that here in the US at least health insurance companies have some kinda deal with hospitals so that the prices go down or something, and there's a reason I don't fully understand why not having health insurance is Really Bad. But we get to pet insurance, or like when I buy a concert ticket and it offers ticket insurance in case I can't make it to the show, and surely if they thought they were gonna lose money on that they just wouldn't sell it, right? Or they'd raise the price of it until it became worth the risk that something bad actually will happen? Wouldn't it only be worth it to buy insurance if you know something the insurance company doesn't?
So the deal is that most people don't use their insurance much, and often insurance companies will incentivize doing things that will make you use your insurance less.
So, for example, you can get a discount on car insurance if you have multiple cars because people who insure multiple cars are more likely to be responsible drivers (the ability to pay for multiple cars stands in as a representation of responsibility here). The longer you go without an accident, the lower your premiums get because that means that you are not costing your insurance company anything but you are paying into the system. The car insurance company's goal is to have the most responsible, safest drivers who never get into car accidents because they can predict (roughly) how much they're going to have to pay out to their customers and they want the number they pay out to be lower than what's paid in. So they try to discourage irresponsible drivers by raising their rates and encourage responsible drivers by giving them discounts.
Health insurance companies often do the same thing: I recently got a gift card from my health insurance company because I had a visit from a nurse who interviewed me about my overall health and made sure I had stable blood pressure and access to medications. It is literally cheaper for my insurance company to give me a $100 giftcard and hire a nurse to visit me than it is for me to go to my doctor's office a couple of times, so they try to make sure that their customers are getting preventative care and are seeing inexpensive medical professionals regularly so that they don't have to suddenly see very expensive professionals after a long time without care.
Insurance in the US has many, many, many problems and should be replaced with socialized healthcare for a huge number of reasons but right now, because it is an insurance-based system, you need to have insurance.
We're going to use Large Bastard as an example.
Large Bastard had insurance when he had his heart attack and when he needed multiple organs transplanted. He didn't *want* to be paying for insurance, because he thought he was healthy enough to get by, but I insisted. His premium is four hundred dollars a month, and his out of pocket maximum is eight thousand dollars a year. That means that every year, he pays about $5000 whether he uses his insurance or not, and if he DOES need to use the insurance, he pays the first $8k worth of care, so every year his insurance has the possibility of costing him thirteen thousand dollars.
The bill for his bypass surgery was a quarter million dollars.
The bill for his transplant was over one and a half million dollars.
His medication each month is around six hundred dollars. He needs to have multiple biopsies - which are surgeries - each year, and each one costs about twenty thousand dollars.
Without health insurance, he would very likely be dead, or we would be *even more* incapable of paying for his healthcare than we are right now. He almost ditched his insurance because he was a healthy-seeming 40-year-old and he didn't think he'd get sick. And then he proceeded to be the sickest human being I've ever known personally who did not actually die.
Health insurance costs a lot of money. It costs less money for people who are young and who are expected to be healthy. But the thing is, everybody pays into health insurance, and very, very few people end up using as much money for their medical expenses as Large Bastard did. There are a few thousand transplants in the US ever year, but there are hundreds of millions of people paying for insurance.
This ends up balancing out (sort of) so that people who pay for insurance get a much lower cost on care if they need it, hospitals get paid for the care they provide, and the insurance company makes enough money to continue to exist. Part of the reason that people don't like this scheme is because "insurance company" could feasibly be replaced by "government" and it would cost less and provide a better standard of care, but again, with things as they are now, you need to have insurance. Insurance companies are large entities that are able to negotiate down costs with the providers they work with, you are not. If you get hit by a car you may be able to get your medical bills significantly reduced through a number of means, but you're very unlikely to get your bills lower than the cost of insurance and a copay.
Because of the Affordable Care Act, which is flawed but which did a LOT of good, medical insurance companies cannot refuse to treat you because of preexisting conditions and also cannot jack up your premiums to intolerable rates - since Large Bastard got sick, he has had the standard price increases you'd expect from aging, but nothing like the gouging you might expect from an insurance company deciding you're not worth it.
Pet insurance works on the same model. Millions of people pay for the insurance, thousands of people end up needing it, a few hundred end up needing a LOT of it, and the insurance companies are able to make more money than they hand out, so they continue to exist. This is part of why it's less expensive to get pet insurance for younger animals - people who sign up puppies and kittens are likely to be paying for a very long time and are likely to provide a lot of preventative care for their animals, so they're a good bet for the insurer. Animals signed up when they are older are more likely to have health problems (and pet insurance CAN turn animals away for preexisting conditions) and are going to cost the insurance companies more, so they cost more to enroll (and animals over a certain age or with certain conditions may be denied entirely).
This weighing risk/reward is called actuarial science, and the insurance industry is built on it.
But yeah it's kind of betting. The insurance company says "I'll insure ten thousand dogs and I'm going to bet that only a hundred of them will need surgery at some point in the next year" and if they're correct, they make money and the dogs who need surgery get their surgery paid for out of the premiums from the nine thousand nine hundred dogs who didn't need surgery.
Your assessment of credit is correct: credit card companies expect that you will end up carrying a balance, and that balance will accrue interest, and the interest is how they make the money.
And it is EASY to fuck up financially as an adult. REALLY EASY. But you are still likely to need a good credit score so you will need a credit history. That means that the correct way to use a credit card is to have a card, but not carry a balance.
To do this, never buy anything on the card that you can't afford. In order to avoid needing the card for emergencies, start an emergency fund that is at least 3 months of your total pay *before* you get a credit card. That seems like a *lot* of savings to have, but from the perspective of someone who has had plenty of mess-ups, it's a lot easier to build up a $10k emergency fund than it is to pay off a $10k credit card debt.
If you don't understand how interest works on credit cards, or why a 10k savings is different than a 10k debt, here are some examples working with $10k of debt, 23% interest (an average-ish rate for people with average credit), and various payments.
With that debt and that interest, here's how much it costs and how long it would take to pay off with $200 as the monthly payment:
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Fourteen years, and it would cost you about twenty four thousand dollars in interest, for a total amount paid of about thirty four thousand dollars.
To save $10k at $200 a month would take four years and two months.
Here's the same debt at $300 a month:
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4.5 Years and it costs about six grand (again, just in interest - sixteen thousand dollars total). Saving ten thousand dollars at three hundred dollars a month would take just under three years.
Here's the same debt at $400 a month:
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3 years, about $4000 dollars (fourteen thousand dollars total). Saving ten thousand dollars at $400 a month takes just over two years.
The thing is, with all of these models you're going to end up paying one way or another. Insurance vs out of pocket is you weighing the risk of losing a fair amount of money by signing up but not using the system, or potentially losing a catastrophic amount of money by not signing up.
For credit cards they really only work if you know you're never going to need them for an emergency, because an emergency is what you're not going to be able to pay off right away. I didn't have an emergency fund when Large Bastard had his heart attack and needed surgery, or when we moved between states suddenly, or when we moved between states suddenly AGAIN and needed to pay storage costs, or when Large Bastard needed a transplant, or when Tiny Bastard got in a fight with my MiL's dog, and the fact that I didn't have an emergency fund is still costing me a lot of money.
So, young folks out there: what's the takeaway?
Get insurance. Get the best deal possible, which usually ends up being the one you sign up for early. You may think you can let it ride without insurance, but man in the six months between when I graduate college (and lost my school insurance) and when care kicked in after 90 days at my job I got electrocuted and needed to go to the ER. If that hadn't been a worker's comp payout I would have had thousands of dollars in bills. Something could happen. You could break your leg, you could get hit by a car, you could suddenly find out that you actually have heart disease at twenty, you could develop cancer. Have insurance, you need insurance. You legally need car insurance in the US, and you financially need health insurance. If you have a pet, I think it's a good idea for them to have pet insurance.
Credit cards are not for emergencies, they are not for fun, they are not for buying things that are just ever so slightly out of your budget, they are for taking advantage of the credit card company and managing to get by in a system that demands you have a credit score. ONLY put purchases on your credit card that you already have cash for. Before you get a credit card, build up an emergency savings so that you aren't tempted to put emergency charges on your card.
If you DO end up with an interest-bearing debt, pay it off as fast as possible because letting it linger costs you a LOT of money in the long run.
Stay the fuck away from tobacco and nicotine products they are fucking terrible for you, they are fucking expensive, and they are not worth it put the vapes down put the zyns down put the cigarettes down I will begin manifesting in your house physically i swear to fuck. Knock that shit off and put the cash that you'd be spending on nicotine into a savings account.
Take care, sorry everything sucks, I promise that in some ways it actually sucks less than it did before and we're working on trying to make it suck even less but it's taking a while.
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itneverendshere · 2 days
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the first relapse being the most scariest thing you’ve seen. sarah’s even calling you about him like “dads trying to get his doctor on the line just in case he od’s”
added this to what i'd already summarized in this ask!! hope everyone enjoys the angst 😔🫂 it’s a little long (around 7.1k)
death by a thousand cuts - r.c
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: substance abuse.
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Ward’s sitting at the dining table, barely glancing up from his phone when Rafe walks in. His jaw clenches. That look—so cold, so dismissive—always sets something off in him.
“What’s wrong?” Rafe asks, already knowing this isn’t just a normal night.
Ward doesn’t answer right away, just sighs like Rafe being here is another weight on his shoulders. “Your mother called today.”
Rafe freezes.
He doesn’t have to ask which mother. Ward’s new wife has nothing to do with this. His real mom. The one who left.
He tries to stay calm, but he can feel his blood pumping, “What’d she want?”
“She says she wants to see you. You and your sisters.”
Rafe’s eyes narrow, his heart pounding harder now. The audacity of it. She always did this—popped back in when it was convenient for her, like they were just part of her life she could pick up and drop whenever she felt like it.
When was the last time? A couple of years? Before that? It doesn’t matter.
“No. I’m not doing this again.” 
“Rafe—”
“No, I said no.” The anger wells up fast, a familiar burn in his chest. He stands there, fists clenched. “She’s full of shit, dad. She doesn't give a fuck about us. So, no. I’m not seeing her.”
Ward looks up, calm as ever, but there's that edge in his eyes—the one that always makes Rafe feel like a little kid who’s stepped out of line. “You’re overreacting. She’s still your mother.”
“My mother?” He lets out a bitter laugh, but there’s no humor in it. His fists tighten at his sides. “She left. She fucking left us. She’s not my mother. She’s just some lady who couldn’t handle shit.”
Ward stands up now. “Watch your mouth.”
“Watch my mouth?” Rafe barks back, stepping forward, his anger boiling over. “I watched her leave me every time she got bored or freaked out. And you—you didn’t do shit!.You just let it happen. Let her walk out over and over.”
“That’s enough, Rafe.”
But he's not done.
He’s too pissed to think straight. “What? You gonna defend her? You’re the one who let her fuck me up like this! You—”
“Stop blaming everyone else for your problems,” Ward snaps, his voice rising. "Grow up. She left.  And you’re still standing here acting like a child over it.”
Something inside Rafe cracks. His chest tightens like someone’s squeezing the air out of him. "A child? You don't get it. You never got it. She fucked me up. She fucked all of us up, and you're still acting like it's nothing." His mind is spinning, flashing back to all those nights he was too high to breathe, too strung out to care if he woke up the next day. He feels like he’s suffocating, the anger burning too fast. “I’m not doing this again, dad. I’m not.”
Ward’s gaze turns cold. “She’s trying now. That has to count for something.”
“Trying? Trying?!” Rafe grits out, stepping forward. All those years, all those broken promises, all the times he was left wondering what the hell he did wrong to make her leave—and now Ward wants him to sit down like it’s a fucking family reunion. 
“I don’t care what you think about it, Rafe. This isn’t up for discussion. You will see her, and that’s final.”
“No. No fucking way!” He shouts, his voice shaking as he steps closer to Ward, fists clenched. “You can’t make me do this. I’m not going to sit there and pretend like everything’s okay when she’s the reason I turned into the mess I was. And you—” His chest heaves as he fights to find the words, his throat tight. “You’re just as bad as she is.”
Ward’s eyes narrow dangerously, but he continues, “Every time she left, you didn’t do a goddamn thing. You let her walk all over us. You let her leave me, leave us, and you never said a word. You’re a shitty father, just as bad as her."
Ward’s face darkens, a storm brewing behind his eyes. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that.”
“I’ll talk to you however the hell I want,” Rafe fires back, stepping even closer, eyes blazing. “You didn’t stop her. You never protected me. You sat there and watched her fuck me up and then turned around and blamed me for it. Like I was the problem.”
“You were the problem,” Ward snaps, “She didn’t know how to handle you, and neither did I. You were a fucking disaster, Rafe. And that’s on you.”
“No. You two were and are the fucking problem because you can’t let go of her.”
Ward takes a step forward, “This isn’t about you. It’s about your sisters. Sarah wants this. Weezie deserves a chance to know her mother. It’s not all about your issues, Rafe. Grow up.”
“Grow up?” He feels like he’s suffocating, “You think I’m the one who needs to grow up? 
“Enough. You will meet her, or you can leave this house right now.”
All the work he's put in, all the shit he's tried to fix, feels like it’s slipping right through his fingers. He can’t be here. Not like this. He’s out the door before he even knows what he’s doing. That itch beneath his skin is back after years, that’s how much control his parents have over him.
Rafe’s hands are still shaking as he gets into his truck, slamming the door harder than he means to. It feels like he can’t get enough air in his lungs, and his thoughts are spinning, they’re all crashing into each other at once. The fight with his father keeps replaying in his head, louder and louder, until he can’t hear anything else.
He’s gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white. His dad’s voice, cold and cutting, telling him he’s the problem. That he’s always been the problem. His hands are shaking worse now, trembling like he’s about to snap, and there’s only one thought pounding through his mind: He can’t go to you like this.
The thought of walking through your door, this messed up, makes him feel sick. You’ve seen him at his worst before, but this… this feels different. He can’t let you see him like this—not the old Rafe. Not the one who almost lost everything.
You don’t need to see that. You don’t deserve it.
He knows where he can go instead. Somewhere he shouldn’t, somewhere he swore he’d never go again. But right now, it feels like the only place that makes sense. His head’s spinning, his body buzzing with leftover adrenaline and anger, and he just needs it to stop.
So, he turns the key in the ignition and drives. It doesn’t take long to get to Barry’s. He knows the back roads by heart, even though it’s been years. He pulls up to the small shack Barry calls home, the lights still on, music thumping faintly from inside. It’s like nothing’s changed. The same rundown place, the same shitty cars parked out front, the same smell of smoke and spilled liquor lingering in the air.
Rafe sits there for a minute, gripping the steering wheel, breathing heavy. He shouldn’t be here. He knows that. 
He climbs out of the truck, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep them from shaking, and heads toward the door. The second he steps inside, the familiar smell of stale beer and weed hits him like a wave, bringing back memories he thought he’d buried.
Barry’s lounging on the couch, a joint hanging from his mouth, lazily flipping through channels on the TV.
“Country Club!”, Barry drawls when he notices him, smirking around the joint. “Now this is a surprise. Didn’t think I’d ever see you walk through that door again. Thought you were all clean now, with your pretty little girlfriend.”
He tenses at the mention of you. But he can’t walk out now. Not after what just happened with Ward. Not when everything inside him feels like it’s about to blow.
“I just need something,” Rafe mutters, avoiding Barry’s eyes, already regretting this but not enough to stop.
Barry raises an eyebrow, amused. “Something, huh? You know, you’ve got a real habit of showing up here when you’re all fucked up.” He laughs, low and mocking. “What’s the matter this time? Daddy issues again?”
His jaw tightens. “Just give me what I want.”
Barry leans back, flicking ash onto the floor. “You sure you wanna go down that road again, man? Thought you were past this shit.”
“I don’t care,” Rafe snaps, his voice low, shaking with frustration and something darker. “You know what I want. Go get it.”
There’s a pause, and for a second, Barry just looks at him, sizing him up. Then, with a shrug, he gets up, disappearing into the back room. Rafe waits, heart pounding in his ears, staring at the floor, trying not to think about what he’s doing. About what this means.
Barry comes back a minute later, a small bag of coke in his hand. He tosses it onto the table in front of Rafe, “Knock yourself out.”
He doesn’t hesitate. He grabs the bag, his fingers already moving on autopilot as he pulls out his wallet and shoves a roll of cash toward Barry. He knows this is stupid, reckless. He knows this is going to hurt you, more than anything else. But ll he wants is to forget. Just for a little while.
His hands stop shaking the second he takes that first line.
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You’re already drained when you step through the front door of the house, kicking off your shoes and throwing your bag onto the couch. The sticky summer air is clinging to your skin, and all you want is a cold shower and to crash in bed. 
The day’s been dragging—work was a shitshow, and all you’ve been thinking about is Rafe. You haven’t heard from him since this morning, which isn’t weird, but there’s been this nagging feeling in your chest, like something’s off.
“Hey,” Monica calls from the kitchen as you grab a glass of water and lean against the counter. She’s scrolling through her phone, half-distracted. Milo’s at kindergarten.
“Hey,” you mumble back. “Everything alright?”
She shrugs, not looking up. “Yeah, mostly.” She pauses, frowning slightly, like she’s trying to piece something together. “I think I saw Rafe’s truck earlier. Over by Barry’s place.”
You blink, trying to process what she just said. “Barry’s?”
“Yeah, you know. The guy who used to sell—Whatever.” Monica shrugs again, more casual than you feel. “I was driving back from work, and I swear it was Rafe’s truck parked outside Barry’s house.”
Your stomach drops. Instantly.
“You’re sure?”
“Looked like his truck,” your sister says, “Thought it was weird. Figured maybe he was helping someone out or something.”
But you know better.
A cold sweat breaks out over your skin. You’ve heard Rafe talk about Barry. Back when things were bad—really bad—he was the one who kept him hooked, who kept pulling him deeper. He told you everything about those years when he was drowning in addication and Barry’s name came up more than once.
And if his truck’s outside Barry’s, you know something’s wrong.
It’s like a pit in your stomach, this gnawing feeling that’s been sitting with you all day. 
“What? Why’s that such a big deal?”
You swallow, trying to keep your voice steady, but it’s impossible. “Rafe doesn’t… he doesn’t go there anymore. He hasn’t in years.”
Monica frowns, finally understanding. “Oh. Shit. You think something’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” you mutter, already pulling out your phone, fingers wobbly as you open your messages. You scroll through the last few texts from Rafe, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary. Except the silence. He’s usually better at checking in, especially when he knows you’ve had a long day. But today? Nothing.
You stare at your screen, debating if you should call him. But deep down, you already know something’s happened. He wouldn’t go to Barry’s unless things were really bad.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” your sister offers, but her voice is hesitant, like she’s not sure. “Maybe he was just stopping by. It doesn’t mean—”
But she doesn’t finish, and you don’t need her to. You know what it means. You feel it in your bones. He’s back in that dark place—And he didn’t come to you. He went to Barry instead.
Why didn’t he come to you?
“I need to go,” you say, your voice coming out more panicked than you’d like, but you can’t help it. Your heart’s racing, your mind is spinning, and the only thing you can focus on is Rafe. You’re grabbing your keys off the counter before your sister can even answer.
“Wait, what? Where are you going?” Monica asks, a bit alarmed now, but you don’t have time to explain.
“I need to find Rafe.”
Your sister steps forward, “Is it really that serious? I mean, maybe he’s just—”
“He’s not just anything,” you cut her off, shaking your head. “If he’s at Barry’s, it’s bad.”
Rafe had told you everything about his past—every ugly detail about the years he spent losing himself, the drugs, the fights, the constant mess of it all. He had opened up to you after your first time together. And for the past two years you’d seen him, the real Rafe, the one who tried so damn hard to be better.
And now? He’s slipping. And you weren’t there.
Your mind is racing as you drive. You think about how good things have been with him—how far he’s come. He’s not the guy he used to be. He doesn’t party like he used to, doesn’t need to numb everything with lines of coke or bottles of whiskey.
He told you about his time in rehab, how scared he was of becoming that version of himself again. But something must’ve happened.
Something big. 
Why didn’t he tell you?
The thought is suffocating. You know him—he’s reckless and impulsive sometimes, but he’s been so careful with you, always making sure you never had to see the side of him that scared him the most. He’s opened up about his struggles with anxiety, about how he sometimes still smokes weed to take the edge off, but this… this is different. 
This is worse.
It had to be Ward. He’s has always had this chokehold on him, making him feel like he’s never good enough. And whenever his mom gets brought up—whenever she’s even mentioned—it messes with him in ways you can barely understand. She’s the one person who could make him spiral, and Ward is the one person who could push him over that edge.
You slam your fist against the steering wheel, frustrated.
He’s dealing with this alone, and now he’s gone back to Barry. To coke. To everything that almost killed him before. You pull up to his place, your stomach churning. You can see Rafe’s truck parked haphazardly outside, and your heart skips a beat. He’s here.
He’s here, and he didn’t come to you.
You sit there for a moment, gripping the wheel, trying to calm yourself down, trying to figure out what the hell you’re even going to say when you see him.
You get out of the car and practically run toward Barry’s door. You know this place, know the people who come here and what they’re looking for. You’re pretty sure your dad spent half his life here, when Barry’s dad still ran the business. 
You don’t even knock. You push the door open. Barry’s on the couch, looking up lazily when you walk in, and you see Rafe—sitting in the corner, eyes bloodshot, jaw clenched.
He looks like a ghost.
Barry snickers from the couch, taking a drag from his joint. “Well, well, look who it is. Didn’t think I’d see the two of you here together.”
“Shut the fuck up, Barry,” you snap, glaring at him before turning your full attention to Rafe. “What are you doing here?”
“W-What?”
“Baby, look at you.”
He tries to stand, his movements slow, like his body isn’t responding the way he wants it to. His eyes are bloodshot, unfocused, his pupils blown wide, and he’s swaying slightly, barely able to keep his balance.
“I just... I needed to clear my head,” he mumbles, the words slurring together. His hand goes to his hair, but it’s shaking, and he can’t even look at you. “It’s not—”
“It’s not what?” You feel your heart breaking with every word, the cracks widening as you take in the mess of him, his clothes disheveled, his face pale, his hands twitching.
He stumbles again, trying to step toward you, but he’s so high he can barely stand. “I didn’t want... I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he rasps out, finally meeting your eyes for just a second before looking away. “Didn’t want you to... think I was still... still that guy.”
“You’re not that guy anymore,” you say softly, even though right now, he looks too much like that guy. “But you’re acting like him.”
His head drops, and he looks down at the floor, his shoulders sagging, defeated. “Didn’t know...what else to do.”
“And you didn’t think to come to me?” Your voice breaks on the last word, “You went to Barry instead of me?”
“Hey now—"
“I told you to shut the fuck up,” You almost scream in Barry's face, your chest rising with each breath you take. Rafe can't stand to look you in the eyes right now. He can't see the disappointment.
“You always know what to do. You call me. You come to me. Why would you run here? Why would you go back to this?” You glance at Barry, who’s watching the whole scene with a smirk on his face like he’s enjoying every second of your heartbreak. “You’re better than this. Get in the car. We can talk about this.”
But he shakes his head, his breath shaky. “Can’t… can’t be with you right now.”
“Why?” 
 “Just… too much. Hurts too much.” He looks down, guilt washing over him. “Didn’t want you to see... this.”
“Then get in the car. We can figure this out together.” Your voice cracks, the hurt pouring out.
He hesitates, shaking his head again. “I… can’t.”
It pushes something inside you.
Maybe you’ll regret it later but now it’s all you can think about. If he doesn’t want your help, he doesn’t want you. And if he doesn’t want you right now he doesn’t deserve to want you when he’s better. 
“You can either get in this car and fight with me, or you can stay here. But if you stay—”
“Y-You’ll leave?” He’s looking at you despite the fog in his brain, not sure if he’s hearing you correctly, “Leave me?”
“I didn’t say that—”
“E-everyon leaves right?"
He’s never said anything like that to you before.
“I’m not leaving you, but if you stay here, with him,” you jerk your head in Barry’s direction, “I can’t help you. I can’t pull you out of this if you don’t want to get out.”
You know you can’t fix this for him. He has to make the choice. His eyes dart toward Barry for a second, and Barry just shrugs, clearly not giving a damn about anything but his next hit. 
“I love you, but I can’t watch you destroy yourself.”
For a second, you think maybe you’ve gotten through to him, because his eyes soften behind all that darkness. But then he shakes his head again, looking at the floor like he’s already made his decision.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he mutters, barely audible. “But I don’t know how to stop.”
Your heart breaks a little more at that. “Yes you do, baby. You do. You just need to believe it.”
If he doesn’t come with you, you’re not sure where this ends for him. He’s stuck, frozen in place, trapped by whatever’s going on in his head, and you realize that no matter how much you love him, no matter how much you want to save him, you can’t force him to choose you. You can’t make him get in the car.
“You have to decide,” you say quietly, voice breaking. “Me or this. You can’t have both.”
Rafe looks up at you, eyes glossy, and for a second, you think he might actually say something — something that will make this all okay, something that will bring him back to you. But he doesn’t. He just stands there, torn apart by his demons, his lips pressed into a line. You feel the pit in your stomach grow deeper.
“Okay,” you nod, barely holding back tears. “I guess that’s my answer.”
You turn and walk out the door, your heart shattering with every inch of distance you put between you and him. You don't look back, because if you do, you know you’ll drag him out yourself, and you can’t do that. Not now. But as you get into your car and grip the steering wheel with your entire strength, the sobs come anyway.
You don’t want to leave him. God, you don’t want to. But he didn’t choose you. Not this time.
Rafe doesn’t even register the sound of the door slamming behind you. It’s like he’s watching everything happen from somewhere far away, his body numb, his mind completely blank. You said something, you were upset—he knows that much—but the words never really hit him. They just floated around. He sinks back down into the chair, staring at the floor, heart racing but completely detached. The room is spinning a little, his chest tight, but he can’t feel anything. Can’t let himself feel anything. It’s better this way. Safer.
You left.
He knows that happened, but it doesn’t mean anything right now. He can’t process it. Not in this state. Not when the drugs are still in his system, making everything feel like it’s underwater. He blinks a few times, trying to get his brain to catch up, but it’s not working. It’s just static.
Barry’s voice is somewhere in the background, laughing about something, but he doesn’t hear him either. It’s like the world’s on mute. His body’s still buzzing from the high, fingers twitching, muscles tense, but inside? Inside he’s empty.
Hours pass, maybe. Time doesn’t exist here, not when he’s this far gone. The light changes through the window, but it could be minutes or days for all he knows. He drifts in and out, his head heavy, eyes closing, but sleep never comes. Just darkness. Maybe he did too many lines.
At some point, he wakes up—if you can call it that. His body feels like it weights two hundred pounds, his head is spinning, his mouth dry and sour. He blinks against the light, his vision blurry, trying to figure out where the hell he is. 
It takes a second for everything to catch up. To realize he’s at Barry’s.
And then, it hits him all at once. You.
You were here. You were mad. And then you were gone.
His chest tightens, a sick, sinking feeling crawling up his throat. He sits up too fast, his head swimming. Fuck.He rubs his hands over his face, trying to calm his breathing. His thoughts are still sluggish. You left. You walked out, and he… he didn’t stop you. Didn’t even try.
Why didn’t he stop you?
Before he can think too much about it, Barry saunters in, a smug grin on his face, holding a beer in one hand, a joint in the other. He takes one look at Rafe, slouched and disoriented, and lets out a low, mocking laugh.
“Well, well, well,” Barry drawls, leaning against the doorframe, clearly enjoying every second of this. “Look who’s finally awake. You done fucked it up, Country Club.”
Rafe doesn’t say anything. Can’t.
Barry raises an eyebrow, taking a drag from the joint, shaking his head. “Damn, man. Thought you were smarter than that.”
Rafe just stares at the floor, his stomach twisting. He can’t remember exactly what he said to you. But the look on your face… he can’t forget that. The disappointment. The hurt.
Barry chuckles, settling down on the couch across from him. “What was it? You running your mouth again, or did she just get tired of you being a fuckup?”
The shame is settling in now, creeping up his spine. He doesn’t want to hear this. Doesn’t want to hear anything. But Barry just keeps going, like he’s enjoying watching him fall apart.
“Should’ve seen it coming, man,” Barry continues, “Girl like that? She was bound to leave eventually.”
If he felt strong enough he would’ve punched that joint out of his mouth, his teeth following next. Who the fuck did he think he was to talk about you like he knew you.
He knows Barry’s just trying to get under his skin, but it’s working. He feels sick. He presses his hands against his eyes, trying to push it all away, but it’s no use.
“You done fucked it up, Country Club,” Barry repeats, leaning back with a satisfied smirk. “And now you’re right back here. Same old Rafe.”
Same old Rafe. He told himself he’d never end up here again. He swore he was done with this. Done with Barry, done with the drugs, done with the guy he used to be.
But now? Now he’s right back where he started. And the worst part? He let you see it. He doesn’t know how to fix this. Doesn’t know if he even can fix this. But the one thing he does know? He should’ve crawled after you.
Rafe doesn’t say a word.
He doesn’t need to. His hands are already moving, reaching for the small bag of coke on the table. His fingers tremble as they close around it, the weight of the plastic barely registering in his hand. 
Barry watches him, that same smug grin never leaving his face, taking another drag of his joint, exhaling a cloud of smoke with a low chuckle. He’s not surprised. Not at all.
"Of course," Barry mutters, shaking his head in amusement. “Of course, you're takin’ that shit with you.”
Rafe’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t fight him. He can feel Barry’s eyes on him, feel the judgment radiating off him, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not anymore. 
Not after everything he’s already fucked up. He stuffs the bag in his jacket pocket, standing up on shaky legs, the room still spinning a little as he stumbles toward the door. His mind is on autopilot, moving without him, as if the drugs are the only thing holding him together. 
"Attaboy, Country Club," Barry calls after him, voice dripping with condescension, laughter bubbling up from deep in his chest. “Just keep runnin’. That’s what you’re good at, right?”
Rafe’s hand tightens on the doorknob, his teeth grinding together, but he doesn’t turn back. He can’t look at Barry—he can’t look at any of this—so he does what he always does.
He walks away. He doesn’t think. He just keeps moving, out of the door, out into the night, the bag burning a hole in his pocket.
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It’s been two weeks since you last saw him.
Two weeks of silence, of unanswered calls and texts that sit there on your screen and make you cry every time you look at them. You told him you’d leave, but you didn’t mean it. You never meant it.
You just needed him to fight. For himself. But he didn’t.
And now, you can’t stop thinking about him. It physically hurts.
Every morning you wake up with this heavy impossible ache in your chest, and it only gets worse as the day goes on. You keep wondering where he is, if he’s okay, if he’s even thinking about you or if he’s too far gone to care.
You miss him. God, you miss him.
Now you don’t even know where he is. If he’s still spiraling or if he’s hit rock bottom.
You’ve barely been able to keep it together at work. Every time you try to focus, that image of Rafe in his absolute worst slips in, and you never get anything done. You’ve called in sick twice, just to stay in bed and cry, because you can barely breathe.
You’ve reached out to Sarah a few times, trying to understand what’s going on, but she doesn’t know much either. "He’s off the grid," she’d told you last time, "Doesn’t want to talk to anyone."
That was a week ago.
And now you’re sitting on the edge of your bed, staring at your phone, debating if you should try one more time. One more call. One more text.
Because this can’t possibly end this way. 
He’s the love of your life. 
Sarah’s name flashes on the screen, and you nearly drop the damn thing. “Sarah?”
“Hey,” You can hear it immediately—something’s wrong. “Are you home right now?”
Your stomach drops, “Yeah. Why? What’s going on?”
You can hear her take a shaky breath. “It’s Rafe. He’s, shit, it’s bad. Like, really bad.”
 “What do you mean, bad? Sarah, what happened?”
“Dad’s trying to get his doctor on the line,” she says, her voice cracking. “Just in case he ODs.”
Your blood turns ice cold.
“He’s not picking up,” she continues, her words spilling out in a rush, like she’s trying to keep herself from breaking down. “Dad’s freaking out, and Rafe—he’s not making sense. He’s been on a bender for days, and now he’s just... he’s not there. I don’t know what to do. I thought maybe you could—”
“I’m coming,” you say, cutting her off, already standing, your body moving on autopilot.
You hang up before she can say anything else, grabbing your keys and rushing out the door. The drive to Tannyhill  feels like it takes forever as your mind comes up with worst-case scenarios. You’ve seen Rafe struggle before—you’ve seen the dark places he’s been—but if Sarah’s calling you, if Ward’s getting a doctor involved….
You barely notice you’ve already parked the car, barely notice the front door swinging open as you run inside. The house is quiet, too quiet.
Sarah’s standing by the staircase, her eyes red and puffy. She doesn’t say anything, just nods toward the living room.
And that’s when you see him.
He’s slumped on the couch, his body limp, his eyes half-open but glazed over, like he’s not even seeing what’s in front of him. His skin is pale, clammy, his hands twitching every few seconds, and there’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead. He looks like half a version of himself, his breathing shallow and uneven.
Ward’s pacing the room, his phone pressed to his ear. “I don’t care if he’s busy, get him here now. He’s going to fucking die.”
“Rafe?” you call, stepping toward him. But he doesn’t react. Doesn’t even flinch. He just stares ahead, eyes unfocused, like he’s not even aware you’re there.
Sarah’s standing behind you now, her voice low, “He won’t talk to us. He’s too far gone.”
You sink down beside him, your heart breaking at the sight of him like this. You reach out, hesitating for a second before gently placing your hand on his arm.
“Rafe,” your voice wavers. “Baby, it’s me. Please… please talk to me.”
But there’s nothing. Just silence.
His head lolls to the side, and his eyes meet yours—but it’s like looking at a ghost. The person you know, the person you love, isn’t there. Not right now. Not in this moment. And it kills you.
You keep whispering his name, pleading for him to wake up, to do something, but nothing works.
Ward's still on the phone, pacing like a caged animal, his voice a angry hum in the background. His eyes flick over to you every few minutes, but he doesn’t say anything. Sarah’s standing off to the side, her arms wrapped around herself, her eyes red and puffy from crying. You can see how scared she is, and you’re glad they got Weezie out of the house before she could see this. 
After what feels like an eternity, the front door bursts open, and a doctor rushes in, followed by a paramedic with a bag of medical equipment. The doctor, some guy Ward must have on speed dial for situations like this, doesn’t waste any time. He kneels down beside Rafe, checking his pulse, his pupils, his breathing.
“This is bad,” the doctor mutters, shaking his head. “He’s lucky he’s still breathing.”
Lucky. 
The paramedic moves in, setting up an oxygen mask, checking Rafe’s vitals, and it feels like the room is spinning. You try to stay calm, try to keep your hand on Rafe.
Ward finally hangs up the phone and stands there, watching as the doctor works. “Is he gonna be okay?” he asks, his voice strained because god forbid he shows more emotion.
The doctor glances up, his expression grim. “We need to take him in. I’m stabilizing him, but if this had gone on any longer, we’d be having a different conversation right now.”
You feel like you're going to be sick.
The paramedic starts prepping him for transport, and you stand there, helpless, watching as they move him onto a stretcher. His body looks so limp, so fragile. They’re talking about taking him to the hospital for observation, but all you can hear is the blood pounding in your ears.
Ward steps forward, he watches his son being carried away. For the first time, you see it—real fear in his eyes. 
“I should’ve seen this coming,” Ward says, his voice shaking. “I should’ve stopped it. This is my fault.”
You feel something snap inside of you.  “I’m sure it fucking is.”
He doesn’t say anything. He just stands there like a fucking idiot. Sarah is beside you now, her hand on your arm, gently pulling you back. “Let’s go,” she mutters,“We should go with him.”
You nod, swallowing as you follow her out of the house, leaving Ward standing there alone.
You climb into your car, Sarah beside you, and you both sit there for a moment in silence, watching as the ambulance pulls away, taking Rafe with it.
“I’m scared,” Sarah admits. 
You close your eyes, and nod. “So am I.”
You have to remind yourself to breathe. She sits beside you, staring straight ahead and neither of you says another word.
The hospital is quiet when you arrive, eerily so. You both rush in, Sarah at your side, searching for the emergency room and after a bunch of paperwork and hurried conversations, you’re finally led to the waiting room. The doctor said they’d keep you updated, and you sit down on those stiff, uncomfortable chairs, the waiting begins.
Minutes drag by like hours. You try to text or scroll through your phone, anything to distract yourself, but you can’t focus. Every time you close your eyes, all you can see is Rafe. It’s like your brain is stuck on replay, and you can’t shut it off. Sarah’s over there biting her lip until it’s bleeding. Every now and then, she looks at you, like she’s about to say something, but then she doesn’t. And you don’t either. You can’t. What the hell would you even say? It feels like you’re both waiting for the worst possible news and just pretending you’re not.
After what feels like forever, the doctor finally comes through the doors, and Sarah and you jump up at the same time. 
The doctor sighs, and he looks tired, like this isn’t the first time he’s delivered news like this today.
“We stabilized him,” he says, “He was really close to an overdose, but we got to him in time. He’s still unconscious, but his vitals are stable for now. We’ll keep him under observation for at least 24 hours.”
You finally take a deep breath, but it’s shaky, and it doesn’t feel real. 
Sarah doesn’t even hesitate. The second the doctor says Rafe’s stable, she’s heading towards his room, like she needs to see him, to make sure for herself that he’s really still here. You don’t follow her, though. Your legs feel like they’re made of concrete, if you move, you’ll just collapse right there in the hallway.
As much as you want to be with him, to hold his hand or just… see him breathing, you know you can’t handle it. Not right now. You’ve spent the last two weeks trying to hold it together, and this is the first time you feel like you can finally breathe. Like you’re not suffocating with worry.
What you need more than anything is to get out of here. To just breathe, to close your eyes for more than a minute without the image of him passed out, strung out, burned into your brain. You need sleep. You need to feel something other than panic. He’s gonna be okay. Maybe not perfect, maybe not healed, but for now, he’s alive. 
The next day, you finally gather the courage to see him. You feel like you might throw up at any second. You stop outside his room, staring at the door for what feels like forever, trying to convince yourself to go inside.
He’s lying in bed, looking like he barely walked out of this one alive, but he’s awake. His eyes meet yours the second you step inside, and you feel like you’re going to start crying at any given second. 
“Hey,” You manage to say, You don’t trust your voice to be strong enough to say something more.
Rafe blinks, like he’s surprised to see you. His voice is rough when he speaks, cracked from everything his body’s been through. “You came.”
“Of course I did,” He’s genuinely shocked. As if he thought you’d just walk away from all of this. From him. You swallow hard, taking a step closer to the bed. “Of course I came, Rafe.” Your voice is soft, barely holding together. “Where else would I be?”
He doesn’t answer. His eyes flicker away from yours, settling on the IV in his arm, like he can’t stand to look at you. 
“Sarah called me. She was scared. She didn’t know what to do.”
Rafe’s jaw tightens, but he still won’t meet your eyes. “She shouldn’t have,” he mutters, his voice hoarse, barely there.
“She shouldn’t have had to, Rafe. You scared the shit out of her—out of everyone. And I’ve been sitting here for two weeks, waiting for you to say something, anything, and you just—” You stop yourself, your throat closing up, and you bite your lip to keep from crying. “You almost died.”
You can see his chest rising and falling slowly, and for a split second, you think he’s not going to answer at all. That he’s just going to keep shutting you out. 
“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he says quietly. “I didn’t want you to see how fucked up I am.”
Your heart breaks all over again because you’ve already seen it. You’ve seen every part of him—the good, the bad, the absolute worst. And you’re still here. You’re still standing in this stupid hospital room because you love him. He shakes his head, his hands gripping the edge of the blanket like he’s trying to hold himself together.
“I don’t deserve you.”
You step closer to the bed, sitting down carefully on the edge, and for the first time in weeks, you feel like you can breathe. Just a little bit.
“Don’t say that,” you reach for his hand. He flinches at first but doesn’t pull away when you lace your fingers with his. “You’re gonna be okay. We’ll get through this. But you can’t keep pushing me away. I need you to let me help you.”
He closes his eyes, his face twisting in pain, “Ward wanted us to meet mom and I just—”
You’ve never fully understood what his mom meant to him, or maybe what losing her did to him, now you do. That deep-rooted pain that always seems to haunt him when he talks about her is stronger than you’ve ever seen before. 
“I didn’t want you to see this mess. I don’t want anyone to. I’m a fucking disaster. Every time I try to fix something, I just make it worse. I just—” He breaks off, his jaw clenching like he’s trying to swallow down the rest of his words, the ones he can’t say out loud.
“You spent years sober, that’s not easy,” You scoot closer, wrapping your arms around him carefully, not caring if he feels like a mess or if you’re being too much. You just want him to feel like he’s not alone. “Baby, I know you’re hurting,” you murmur into his shoulder, “But I’m not going anywhere.”
“You should,” He confesses, “I hurt you.”
“You have,” you admit, “But that doesn’t mean I’m leaving. I’m not gonna give up on you.”
He looks away, like he doesn’t believe you, like he’s waiting for you to just walk out of that hospital room and never look back. But you don’t.
You tighten your grip on his hand, "You don’t get to decide that for me.  I’m still here because I love you. Even when you push me away.”
“You shouldn’t love me,” he whispers, like it’s some kind of fact, like it’s already been decided.
You shake your head, leaning in closer, your hand resting on his cheek. “But I do, Rafe. I always will. Even when you don’t think you deserve it, we’ll figure it out, together, okay? One step at a time.”
He nods, barely, but it's something. It’s a start.
325 notes · View notes
jihyoruri · 1 day
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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ SUPER RICH KIDS kim chaewon x reader
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❀ ͘ ⴰ previous chapters | richgirl ⭢ that girl (she’s delicious) ⭢ idon’t smoke ⭢ pretty when you cry ⭢ homesick
↳ warnings richgirl!yn, angst (yn is back home), family dynamics, rich kid things, swearing, chaewon is still chaewon, arguing, weight mentions
finally.
you’d think after everything that someone has gone through in this house, stepping back through those doors would be the last thing she’d want. but she wasn’t going to lie.
yn felt at peace.
because in the moon mansion, she could be who she truly was and not feel bad about it.
a rich girl.
“lunch will be ready soon,” jia’s voice broke through the peaceful quiet as yn lay sprawled on her pink towel by the pool.
yn let out a contented sigh, lifting her sunglasses and pushing her hair back. “thanks, jia. what’s on the schedule for tomorrow?”
“you already attended the press conference with your father, so that’s off your list. your brothers will be going to the one tomorrow, so all you’ve got left is golfing with your members.”
the happy, serene soundtrack in yn’s head came to a screeching halt as she shot up from her towel.
“what?!”
“your mother didn’t tell you? she thought it’d be a good idea for you to invite them, so she reached out while you were out with your father,” jia said, her expression full of concern. she didn’t understand. shouldn’t yn be excited?
“when does she ever tell me anything?” yn grumbled, flopping back down on her towel childishly “jia, during dinner, add a splash of vodka to my mango juice. maybe the alcohol will keep me from flipping the table.”
jia chuckled softly, fondness in her eyes for the girl she’d watched grow up. “when has that ever helped anything? i’ll check on lunch.”
yn groaned as jia walked away. this was supposed to be her escape. chaewon is going to have a field day with this.
it seems like nothing can ever go yn’s way.
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dinner was quiet. but that was hardly unusual. as far back as yn could remember, dinner had never been family bonding time
bonding didn’t even exist in this family.
the unspoken rule was simple: eat in silence, speak only when necessary.
honestly, yn found the quiet pretty peaceful. just eating, no forced conversation.
but it seemed like her mother couldn’t stand seeing her at peace—ever.
maybe that was an exaggeration, but yn firmly believed it.
“you seem tense, yn,” jae said, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he took a slow sip from his drink. “something bothering you? got a problem with someone?”
yn gripped her fork tightly, slowly lifting her gaze from her plate. “i do, actually. and for once, it’s not with you, dickhead.”
“language,” their father muttered, eyes never leaving the documents he’d brought to the table.
“oh really, who’s ahead of me?” jae asked clearly liking the banter him and yn are having at the moment.
“I won’t disclose any details just as yet.”
daeun rolled his eyes at his siblings, then, deciding to break the silence since everyone seemed eager to chat, he asked, “so, mom, how was your day?”
their mother beamed at the question, her smile bright and warm. oh, how she adored her son. yn couldn’t help but roll her eyes.
“it was amazing, honey. i was just reading an article about your sister’s group.”
“oh, really?” jae responded with mild interest.
“yes! that yunjin member mentioned how she always makes sure the other girls eat and stay healthy. isn’t that wonderful? yn, you have such lovely members.”
as far as yn was concerned, yunjin had never once asked if she was eating properly. but that wasn’t what set her off, she had kazuha who always checked in on her.
it was the nerve her mother had to praise yunjin for something like that—the same person who was the root cause of yn’s so-called “problem.”
“is that why you invited them over tomorrow—without asking me?”
yn hadn’t planned on bringing it up, but her mother’s comment set her off.
her mother furrowed her eyebrows at yn’s tone. “yes, actually. they seem like lovely girls. i was going to suggest you invite those ai girls you’re so fond of, but your judgment isn’t always the best, so i made the decision for you.”
the screech of yn’s chair echoed through the dining room. “i’m not hungry anymore, because clearly no one in this family respects me. may i be excused?”
“sure,” her father said casually, taking a sip of his wine.
“oh, come on, yn! let’s not fall back into those habits,” jae teased.
”fuck you jae!”
“language.”
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“you don’t like them, do you?”
yn lifted her head from her pillow, turning slowly to see daeun standing at her door.
“what?”
“the girls in your group. you don’t like them.”
she watched as he stepped forward and sat at the edge of her fluffy bed. “you wouldn’t have reacted that way if it were the girls from sm.”
yn hated how daeun could always read her. they barely talked nowadays, but he still knew his little sister like the back of his hand.
“it’s not that I don’t like them. they don’t like me. no matter how much I lower myself or how nice i act, it’s like they can’t get over the fact that i’m a moon.”
“you lowered yourself for them?”
yn’s eyes flicked up from her lap to see jae standing at the door, disappointment written across his face.
she nodded, feeling a wave of shame. they were raised to believe they were better than everyone else, and here she was, bending over backward for girls who didn’t even like her.
“well, that was your first mistake,” jae said, shaking his head as daeun nodded in agreement.
“you’re dimming who you are to make them feel comfortable, and they’re taking advantage of that,” daeun added, hitting the nail on the head. yn hated how right he was.
“i know you, yn. you’re a bitch—a real one,” jae said with a smirk, earning an eye roll from her. “just be who you are. that’s how you’ll show them. it seems like they can’t stand the fact that you were always going to be successful, idol or not, and they hate that.”
“woah.” yn blinked in disbelief, looking between her brothers. “for once, you two actually make sense.”
“see? a bitch.”
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yn adjusted the dior sunglasses perched atop her head, then straightened her pink ralph lauren golf dress before turning to jia.
“why are they taking so long? it’s a gated community,” she complained, tapping her foot as she stood in front of her expansive front lawn.
“patience is key, miss moon. the van is pulling up,” jia replied calmly.
yn felt anxiety creep in but quickly reminded herself of her brother's words. this wasn’t the dorms; this was her turf, the place where yn excelled.
the first person to step out of the van was kazuha, who immediately sprinted toward her.
“zuha!”
“you look so cute! i love your dress,” kazuha gushed, her eyes scanning yn’s outfit she couldn’t help but smile at how relaxed yn looked, she was completely in her element.
“thanks! my dad got it. it’s vintage!” yn beamed.
“of course he did.” yn already knew who that could be.
as she looked past kazuha, she noticed the rest of the girls gazing at her house in awe, it was kinda awkward seeing them, especially after the last time, but yn was just gonna pretend like that day never happened.
yunjin nudged chaewon, nodding toward jia, who narrowed her eyes at chaewon, causing the latter's eyes to widen.
chaewon hadn’t realized someone else was there.
yn couldn’t help but smile at that. “this is jia, the help.”
the girls nodded politely, while kazuha waved, causing yn to furrow her brows. “bow?”
the girls’ eyes widened at the unexpected demand but quickly bowed their heads.
“we treat the help with great respect around here,” yn said sternly . “so take note of that for next time.”
kazuha smiled at yn while the others nodded, a mix of confusion and compliance on their faces.
“so, who’s ready to golf?” yn asked, flashing a sweet smile.
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“you guys suck,” yn laughed, watching the girls struggle with their golf swings.
“well, not everyone has been doing this since birth,” chaewon shot back, rolling her eyes.
“you’re so right! it would take a lot to be like me, wouldn’t it?” yn teased, nudging chaewon’s side causing the girl to stumble “your form is horrendous.”
she strolled over to eunchae, adjusting the younger girl’s stance, then moved on to yunjin.
chaewon’s gaze drifted down yn’s body, taking in her outfit of course, she didn’t even know people actually wore dresses like that these days.
she was about to make a snarky comment when a loud shout interrupted her.
“ignore them it’s just the golf boys,” yn said as she corrected sakura’s form.
chaewon rolled her eyes when she heard the boys calling out yn’s name in a flirty tone.
“passed around?”
yn groaned at chaewon’s words. “I’ve only talked to them a handful of times. I barely know them.”
“i talk to the caddy girls a lot, though,” yn added, causing kazuha to laugh while chaewon scrunched her face in distaste.
“do you want my help with your form?” yn asked chaewon, raising an eyebrow.
“definitely not.”
“okay, then continue embarrassing yourself.”
chaewon opened her mouth to argue but was cut off by a woman’s voice.
“yn!”
the girls turned to see yn’s mother approaching, and yn groaned, rolling her eyes. “why is she here?” she mumbled to herself.
the girls recognized the woman—it was yn’s mother.
“hey, ladies! I hope you’re having fun and that yn is being a good host,” she said with a bright smile.
the girls greeted yn’s mom with polite smiles, and she continued, “I just wanted to drop off some cute gifts i got for you all. I completely forgot about them! I had to stop the driver we just left from going to lunch.”
“lunch?” yn asked, the emotion in her voice hard to pinpoint. “you guys went to lunch without me?”
“honey, it’s not a big deal. don’t be dramatic! we were just celebrating your brother’s achievements just an intimate get together that I planned.”
yn couldn’t remember them ever holding something for her achievements, and she had plenty. “right,” yn laughed sarcastically. “i’m always so dramatic, huh?”
the girls exchanged awkward glances; they had never seen yn like this before.
“don’t act like that. god, you’re just like your father,” her mother said, brushing off yn's feelings.
yn clenched her jaw. “is that all? you just came by to drop off gifts?”
“yes, and i wanted to check on you. stop being so moody! just like your dad. my boys are more like me,” her mom said with a smile, prompting awkward laughter from the girls.
“you see how she argues with me, such a daddy’s girl, she looks like a girl version of him as well doesn’t she?.” her mother laughs causing yn to look at chaewon who looks at back at her with a blank face.
“how about you go back to your boys? they’re probably waiting for ‘mommy’,” yn snapped, glaring at her mother.
she had never spoken to her mother this way before, but as she got older, her respect for the woman had diminished. she barely considered her mother a mom anymore.
“yes, i have to go. we’re going shopping to pick out suits for your father and brothers.”
yn felt as if she had been punched in the gut. family shopping—without her? everyone knows yn loves shopping.
“did you plan that too?” she shot back.
her mother ignored yn’s words, stepping back to scan her daughter. “this outfit is cute. it looks good on you. maybe lose a couple more pounds, and it’ll look even better.”
the girls’ eyes widened at her mother’s words, but yn remained unfazed on the outside.
inside, however, yn felt the sting. she tried to pretend she didn’t care about her mom’s opinion, but deep down, she knew she’d spend extra time on her diet after that.
“anyway, I have to go. it was nice seeing you girls! i hope you like the gifts,” her mother said before walking away.
the girls turned to yn, who stared at her mother’s retreating figure before turning back to them.
“I just love my perfect life, don’t ’ I chaewon? now let’s work on your imperfect form.”
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thaatdigitaldiary · 3 days
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for the first time
hopkins paige bueckers x hopkins fem reader
for a long time, paige didn’t know why she felt the way she did about her best friend, someone who she “wasn’t” supposed to love, she didn’t want to ruin things. it was unfortunate she didn’t know you were waiting for her first. (kinda got this idea while listening to bags by clairo so i hope this makes your heart tingle and your eyes water!)
fluff and flirtationnnn (ofc🙏🏽), slight angst & minor argument, internal homophobia, cuteness and clarity at the end | this is lengthy! i hope ya like
enjoy!🙂‍↕��
disclaimer: i write nothing but angst or fluff when it comes to hopkins p, considering she was in highschool. thank you! - im considering this a “throwback story” so i can make a part two for older reader and older paige. 🫶🏽
paige and you were completely different when it came to high school. her priorities consisted of basketball, her future career, and passing senior year so she can make way to uconn. you however, were all about academics. you were in basically any club available, maintained a 4.0 gpa, and quickly climbed the rank of class president. how you two met was random, your sophomore year you were in photography club, meaning you took pictures of all the sports teams for the yearbook, and she stayed behind to talk to you.
"cool ass camera." she said going to touch it, but you quickly swat her hand away.
"hey! no touching. you break you buy." you say slightly stern, pointing your finger at her.
"technically YOU'D have to buy, this has nothing to do with me." she says laughing and shrugging her shoulders, getting a smile out of you. for her first time seeing you smile, she sure was in love with it.
"okay "miss photographer", what's your name?" she asks you, hoping she can get to know you. "mine's paige."
"i know, i see you all the time, you're like.. the best basketball player here." you say bragging on her, feeling kind of shy when you give away that you're a big fan of her.
"oh really, you think so?" she says in a flirty tone while she flexes, making you blush out of nervousness.
"okay, okay, don't get too in your head now, but yeah, you're really good. i'm the one who records and snaps all your shots. but my name is y/n, since you asked." you say with such a sweet voice, something that sent her in a trance, completely dazed in the sound of you speaking.
"cute name. hey uh, i was gonna ask did you need any help packing this stuff up, i won't break it i promise." paige says chuckling, her smile pure and full of life, an image that stayed in your head since you met her.
two years pass, and you and paige can never separate. despite being utter opposites of each other, you're glued to the hip. you still did photography, getting the best candid photos of your best friend on the court, excited to post them on social media so she gets the attention she deserves. you gathered the pictures together and created a collage to post on instagram.
you were paige's biggest fan to say the least, buying a hoodie with her name and number on it, and being able to sit on the sidelines and watch her play, with your photographer privilege of course. anytime she made a three, she'd point at you, making you smile. watching her play was something you couldn't get enough of, learning the game so you could understand when she was frustrated with a play, or if she just rambled on to you about it, you'd know exactly what she was talking about.
paige and your bond grew stronger, going to family events together, having sleepovers every weekend, even during the week, as well as going on family trips with her. you felt like you had your person when it came down to paige. you didn't really know much about anyone at your school, and you definitely didn't expect the school's star basketball player to befriend you.
life wasn't always so peachy though. you really struggled finding yourself. for a long time you were confused, not when it came to school, when it came down to your feelings. ever since you met paige, there was this feeling you couldn't shake, this feeling of nurture and love that you gained from her, the type no one else could give you. growing up, you weren't one to express your feelings to your parents. they were always busy, super strict, and for some reason never found too much time for you. but paige, she always dropped anything even if meant seeing you for 5 minutes.
the first time paige saw you, she noticed how you radiated positive energy, even though she had no clue what you were going through at home. all she wanted was to be the person by your side through thick and thin, forever and always.
with about a month and a half of school left, paige and her teammates took home the trophy for the final game of the season, and you were more than proud for her, ecstatic even. when the final buzzer went off for the end of the game, paige made a 3 pointer, beating the buzzer. you stood up and cheered as loud as you could, while paige ran towards you and swiftly lifted you up into a hug, making your feet dangle in the air.
"i'm so proud of you p." you said, muffled into her shoulder, as you feel her start to tear up from her words, and one of her biggest achievements.
"i really couldn't have done it without you, you're my motivation y/n." you feel a catch in your throat, signaling you're about to cry, and she quickly wipes your tears.
her family takes you both out to eat, and you had a duffel bag in their trunk that you packed the night before, so you could stay over at paige's house tonight.
after eating and making it to paige's place, you and paige made it up to her room, where she dropped her bags and your duffel that she insisted on carrying so you didn't "hurt your pretty hands" as she'd say. her room has evolved so much over the years, furniture moved around, basketball posters growing on the walls every visit, but one thing that never changed, was the framed picture of you and her on your nightstand, you on her back after her first win, both of your smiles bright and lively. the same picture lingered on her lockscreen ever since you two took it, your lockscreen being a picture you and her took at a sleepover at your house, you two under a fuzzy olive green blanket, exceptionally close for "best friends", but you never really cared.
that's another thing when it came down to paige, you never really cared. sure, questions and rumors spread, "are y/n and paige together?" "is paige gay?" "what's y/n's sexuality?"
it got annoying after a while, and paige and you always seemed to avoid the questions, and simply ignore them. it sucked that you wondered the same thing though. that was a sensitive topic, you couldn't ask paige about that, what if she finds you weird and stops talking to you?
you though, you should've been asking yourself that question. you've dated one guy throughout high school, and sure you liked him, (so you thought), but he was rude and belittling. after a conversation with paige, you immediately broke up with him. "he's not good enough for you," she said to you, always knowing what was best.
the real question was, what really was good enough for me?
paige never dated anyone in highschool, she turned down girls AND guys, so it made it extra hard to read her, even though you knew her like a book, cover page to the summary on the back of it. you wanted to know, but you didn't want to lose her in the midst of your curiosity.
sitting on paige's bed, you took your shoes off and got comfortable like you usually do, and she took off her practice gear and sat next to you.
"thank you for always being here for me y/n, like seriously." she sounds so genuine and would do anything to keep you here forever.
"p, i'm always gonna be here for you, you're my best friend." you go to embrace her, her muscular arms holding you close, your perfume lingering in her nose, making her feel at home.
you and her let go and look at each other for a while, eye contact never breaking, when she leans in for a kiss, and you let her in. the kiss is slow, as she tries to learn your body language, the kiss is meaningful, but is cut short when she starts freaking out.
"jesus christ y/n i'm sorry."
"i didn't mean to do that, it was an accident,"
an accident?
"oh, uh, yeah it's fine." you say, confused on what the big deal was, you've been wanting to do that forever, but i guess things weren't reciprocated.
things quickly got awkward, and then paige says something that honestly breaks your heart a little.
"maybe you shouldn't stay the night tonight, i uh, got family stuff."
you knew that wasn't true, she just didn't want you around after a moment like this just happened. but why is she shutting it down?
"you don't wanna talk first, i mean a lot just happened i think we should ta-" you try to explain to her when she cuts you off.
"just go home y/n." her voice cold and bleak, making you queasy.
paige was never like this with you, can a kiss really change everything? you thought asking your best friend a question would make you lose her, but you two KISSED. your heart dropped to your feet with the thoughts swarming in your head, "is she gonna leave me?" being the main one.
the next day rolls around, it was 12:30, the time she usually got back home after practicing with her dad, and you’ve received no sign of her, no texts or missed facetimes, which was unusual since you promised each other two years ago you'd try to facetime every. single. day. "she just needs time," you thought to yourself, but you text her anyway.
"hey paigeyyy, i'm gonna go to the store later, did you want me to pick anything up for you? i can drop by your house and give it to you?"
read 12:35pm
she read your message, but didn't respond until ten minutes later with a simple and dry "no" which made you sigh and move on about the day.
you missed paige. you slowly start to regret last night, but there's nothing you can do to change it. you already miss her face, her hugs, her lips, and how she looked at you. you open your camera roll to see a picture you and her took last night after her game, her holding you bridal style while you hold up her trophy, both of you smiling at each other. you put your phone down and decide to lay down for the rest of the day, as you had no motivation to do anything knowing your best friend didn't even wanna speak to you.
but deep down it was more than that, you had really fallen for paige, not wanting anyone but her, was that so wrong?
paige on the other hand, was losing it. she didn't know what to do with herself. there was no way she liked girls, let alone her best friend.
so why did she kiss her?
she wanted answers, but she couldn't and didn't want to talk to anyone about it, scared of how others would perceive her, worried she'd lose people over this, and worst of all, she didn't want to lose her best friend. she had to push her away, she needed space to think.
she thought there was nothing wrong with that, but it was the worst thing she could've done.
a week passes, neither of you are talking much, you haven't facetimed in what seems like forever, and her responses to you are weak and bland, making you feel as if she's not interested in talking to you anymore.
prom is approaching, you and paige planned to go together, to dance, make fun of other peoples dancing, and have another lively moment before summer break. but after that night, you're not sure what you two are gonna do, mainly because the day of prom, paige hadn't texted you at all. you weren't gonna go since you figured she wasn't, but you needed to get out of bed and go do something fun to get your mind off of the situation.
a couple hours go by, and you're finished getting ready. you have on an all black floor length dress, with small purple accents, since you already pre picked it out, intending to match with paige. you took your pictures with your parents, and drove to the school, as prom was being held in the gym this year.
you get there, hands clammy from your nervousness. you hate being here without paige, you wanted to take so many pictures, make so many memories, slow dance, and this was gonna be the night you were ACTUALLY planning on kissing her for the first time, showing her how long you've loved her.
the whole time you've been standing around looking bored, knowing you'd have so much fun if paige were here. that's until a guy from the football team comes up to you, asking you to dance with him. you insist, as you have nothing better to do. a slow song starts, and you and him are dancing slowly, until you notice a familiar face walk in the gym. paige.
she sees you and him and storms off to the bathroom, furious at the fact that you looked so beautiful, and that she wasn't the one with hands around your waist, taking in all your beauty.
you excuse yourself from his grasp, walking towards the bathroom, letting it clear out before you walk in.
"hey.." you say softly, not wanting to come off aggressive as if she hasn't been talking to you in what seemed like ages.
"what the fuck is he doing slow dancing with you? that was our thing y/n." she says, sort of yelling at you, but you quickly retaliate.
"no paige. you don't get to be mad at me because YOU shut me out. all i wanted to do was talk to you, you made me feel crazy, like something was wrong with me." you say, starting to cry.
"you completely went ghost on me, since before that night i've wanted no one but you, but i guess it doesn't matter,"
"i didn't come with him, he just asked me to dance because i looked bored, so i said yes." you tell her, looking at the tiled bathroom floor.
paige cups your chin and pulls your head up so you can look her in the eyes.
"i'm sorry y/n. i shouldn't have ran from you, i was scared. i really did mean to kiss you, just not like that. i wanted it to be special, i wanted it to be while we danced. i thought he was about to take that opportunity away from me. it woulda been memorable y'know?" she says while looking deep in your eyes, hoping you'd forgive her. “i know i’ve been acting weird, i just didn’t know what to do if i lost you.”
"i was also scared of what people would think of me, yknow, liking girls and shit. especially liking you, you're perfect, i didn't wanna ruin anything for you."
you don't respond immediately, until she says what's been on her mind since she met you.
"i'm in love with you, y/n. i've loved you since the first time i met you, you keep me sane, and without you i was losing my shit. there’s nothing wrong with you ma, and i apologize for making you feel that way."
your eyes go a little bit wider, and you finally respond, "i love you too paige, i always have. forget what other people think p, nobody matters but me with you." you smile wide at her and she smiles back, finally feeling content with herself, knowing she said what needed to be said, and could kiss you whenever she wanted to.
she leans in to kiss you, but you stop her.
"what cmon, i can't kiss you now?" she said to you while rolling her eyes.
"you said you wanted it to be special right?" you grab her hand and hold it for a while.
"yes ma'am i did," she says, leading you out of the bathroom and back to the gym, where another slow song has started. she quickly rests her hands on your waist, your hands on her shoulders, as you two sway to the song blasting through the cheap speakers the school borrowed.
"god, you look beautiful baby." paige says, finally taking in all of your perfection. your hair, makeup, and jewelry aligned perfectly, fitting you so well, she just loved looking at you. before you two continue dancing, she pulls her phone out of her dress pants pocket, and while she does so you take a good look at her. she looks stunning. a black button up and black dress pants, a silver chain completing the look. she goes to her camera app, and you kiss her on the cheek as a pose for the picture. she snaps multiple and eagerly changes her lockscreen.
"i love seeing this beautiful face everytime i turn my phone on," she says, you roll your eyes out of her corniness, but it still makes you blush. you also take a picture of the two of you, and you update your lockscreen as well.
"and i love seeing yours, and plus, this button up looks a little too good on you," you tell her, making her bite her lip slightly.
she grabs your hand and twirls you, bringing you back in, your faces exceptionally close to one another. the slow song comes to and end, and paige takes one hand off of your waist to cup your face, and connects her lips with yours and utters the words that make you happy to have met her,
"i love you y/n."
"i love you too paige."
and for the first time, you knew you had a forever person, and that person was paige bueckers.
HEY BAD BITCHESSS!! I HOPE YOU ENJOYEDDD I KNOW THERE’S NOT MANY HOPKINS FICS OUT THERE SO I WANTED TO TRY! i’ll try and be consistent with posting, just bare with me 🙂‍↕️ love you
tags: @rosemariiaa @mrsarnold @wbbgetsmewetter
🫶🏽🫶🏽
the collage that “would’ve been posted”
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Hello! Someone genuinely trying to understand and perhaps unlearn some reactionary tendencies. With the response to that anon about "not asking if you're a pro or anti", the response about "imagine if they put this much effort into protecting real kids" definitely got me thinking. So... Is an adult shipping children and finding that hot NEVER a red flag? Or is it case by case on seeing how that person handles the distinction between fiction and reality in other things? And bringing the issue of real kids into it, if a real kid who has been abused sees someone shipping kids and finds that a red flag in that person, that... No, no I juicy answered my own question on that one. Block them and cultivate your own experience.
hi there anon, and congrats on trying to unlearn some things! and great job catching yourself at the end there, that's exactly correct.
I will start by saying this right out of the gate: fundamentally, I do not really give a shit about what made up scenarios about fictional characters people are jorking it to in private. I am, first and foremost, interested in how they are interacting with actual, real people.
"but Makenzie are you saying people who look at sexually explicit images of real human kids should be allowed near children?" no I'm not. please note that I was specifically talking about people engaging with fictional characters who are, you know, not real and do not have feelings and therefore cannot actually be hurt, traumatized, abused, etc, in any way that actually matters. I want to be so clear about this: you can genuinely think whatever vile things you want about fictional characters. you can enjoy any problematic shit you want with little guys who don't actually exist.
like, here's an example I use a lot: I'm kind of a huge Batman fan. don't know if you could tell that or not, I'm pretty subtle about it. if you spend any time in the Batman mythos, you know that this is a story where you just kind of have to take for granted that our hero is a billionaire using his vast wealth to dispatch vigilante justice with military grade weaponry and a small army of child soldiers and cop friends to help him put people in prison. these are moral quandaries that are discussed and acknowledged within the story, but fundamentally the universe is always going to involve billionaire vigilantism and child soldiers and the so-called carceral justice system. that's just the price of admission if you're gonna read Batman.
and like. I spend a lot of time in that world. I love Batman, I love his child soldiers. he's my little blorbo or whatever. but like, at no point have I said "yeah, fuck it, preteens should be learning martial arts to fight domestic terrorists, actually. I think Elon Musk SHOULD be allowed to put on a fursuit and beat up criminals. cops need more funding." no amount of Batman comics can make me believe or act on any of those things because, you know, I'm a person with a brain and I know the difference between "thing that makes a good story" and "thing that should actually happen for real."
and the thing is that genuinely, honestly, if someone thought that it was a red flag that I like Batman, and that enjoying Batman comics was somehow a red flag indicating that I'm fine with violence being done against real, actual children? I would think that person was a nut, if I can be super real. like, I'm thinking about somebody trying to make the case that I shouldn't be allowed to hang out with my nephew because I enjoy the fictional character of Robin so clearly I'm going to kill my nephew's parents in front of him to try to get him into vigilante justice. or if someone attempted to bar me from teaching my 4th-6th grade sex ed classes on the grounds that I was obviously going to teach them to do karate to clowns instead of how their reproductive systems worked.
(although, lets be real, there are a lot of politicians who would MUCH rather let little kids cage fight each other than learn anything about safer sex.)
this doesn't just apply to morally bad things, either, btw. I also read a lot of romance novels, especially hetero romances. and the thing is, not one of those books has made me want to fall in love with a ruggedly handsome but condescending straight man. hell, none of them have made me want to fall in love with anybody, period. that's not really something I'm interested in for myself, it's just a fun and frequently funny dynamic to explore. I'm hardly the first queer person to point out that the allegations that queer media "turns kids gay/trans" is obviously bullshit since the vertible mountain of cishet media evidently failed to turn any of us straight/cis, you know?
my point being: no, I genuinely don't think it's often, if ever, reasonable to judge someone's actual, real life morals by how they interact with fiction.
I'm going to say something so vulnerable right now, because we're in a safe space here: since you asked me this very reasonable question, you evidently value my judgment and perspective at least a little bit. and I once read and thoroughly enjoyed a fic in which Dr. Horrible, from Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, gets fucked by a sapient evil horse. and I don't think that makes me a morally reprehensible person, or a person who advocates for real human beings having real sex with real horses. I think it just makes me kind of a weirdo with a bullshit tolerance.
if you want to hear a MUCH more thorough take on this, complete with addressing the issue of shipping fictional children, I cannot recommend Princess Weekes' video essay enough:
youtube
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hedgehog-moss · 7 hours
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hello & good morning/afternoon/night! feel free to ignore this ask if you don't want to or don't know how to answer. i have been following your blog for years now, i think, and i have been accompaning your life through the pictures you post. i always had similar dreams of living in a farm or just in a more "secluded" place in general - hiddem away from big cities, i mean, closest place being a small town or even village, you know - and though i have lived alone for 2 years now i have a lot of fears of living by myself in ambient where there is relatively less people (even if there are neighbors not that far away). yknow, classic fears, of being robbed, my house being broken into, etc etc. once again i know it's a different world and the probability of something like this happening is actually higher in places with a bigger populational number, but have you ever had experiences like this? have you ever felt a similar fear? i'm trying to find out if this is something i really want.
Hi ! I love that I read your message last week right after I fondly reminisced about hearing murder screams in my woods at night. I've been thinking about it and I think regardless of what statistics say, some people feel safer surrounded by people in a town while others feel safer in more secluded places—I mean there's probably a personal temperament aspect to this... I've always loved going out for walks in the middle of the night but I couldn't fully relax doing that in cities, while here I find it so relaxing. It's so dark and quiet it feels like walking at the bottom of the ocean <3 It's the closest I can get to the peaceful life of the sea cucumber. And since I'm alone in this forest and there's no one for several km around I feel like nothing bad can happen to me. But I have city friends who would never consider going for a walk with me in the woods at night.
Can't recommend having a medium-to-large dog enough! Despite his debonair manner Pandolf is a good guard dog—one time that I got to test this was when someone parked their car on the side of the road maybe 300m from my house, and stayed there for almost a week. It wasn't a camper van, just a normal car, and every time I went to see it during the day it was empty, but I saw lights in there at night. I didn't like it at all! Why park here in the middle of nowhere. Near my house. This isn't a convenient spot to fish or anything, so where are you all day...? I remember the night I noticed the light in the car from my window, and I sat in my bed like, okay, someone's over there, but even if he gets to my door I have 2 other ways to get out of the house, my nearest neighbours are like 40min away by foot through the woods, I know my woods better than this guy, I'll be fine.
It's the only time that I recall feeling a bit antsy at night—and Pandolf was very alert as a result, he could tell I was nervous and when I went to close the chicken coop in the evenings he went patrolling all over the place in a way he doesn't usually do. I have a natural talent for not doing anything about problems and hoping they'll go away on their own, but after a few days I eventually told a distant neighbour about this weird car, and he came the next evening to talk to this person—but the car left that same day. And when my neighbour came to tell me he hadn't found the car, it was already dark and he parked his car in front of my house and at first Pandolf refused to let him get out. Even though he knows this neighbour and the guy had half-opened his door and was like "Hey Pandolf it's me!", Pan just stood there growling continuously like Cujo. It was good to see that although he's a really friendly dog, if I'm freaked out he can get quite intimidating.
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Other than that one weird car story I've never really felt scared being here alone at night, and I didn't worry about that before moving here either, I was impatient to go on nighttime walks in the woods, rather! But having neighbours I'm on friendly terms with that I can call for help if needed, and whose house I can reach by foot, is reassuring; so I think mostly it's a matter of finding the degree of seclusion you're comfortable with. There are all sorts of gradations between living in a big city and living like the first Desert Father :) Is there any way you could try spending some time alone in a more remote area for temporary stays, like holidays, to see if you get used to it and come to appreciate it, or if you feel safer in more populated places?
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all3-stxr · 19 hours
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i like the way you kiss me
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you and satoru were both teacher at jujutsu tech. as always, he pestered you just as much as he did with nanami and yaga. now, he was sitting on your desk of the empty classroom as you dusted off the chalkboard, pouting about the higher ups.
"i just. . . i don't get it. how they don't give a damn about those kids. i think i do a good job about caring, right?"
"you do really well, satoru." you ruffle his hair before returning back to cleaning the chalkboard.
that makes his cheeks flush a little red, not used to such praise. well, sure, he's praised by so many people, but from you, it just felt. . . different.
he cleared his throat before changing the subject. "so. . . wanna go out and get dinner? or is it too early for all of that?"
you hum quietly. "well, actually, i've been meaning to talk to you about something."
as you turn to face him, his blue eyes met yours as he tilted his head to the side. this was something he wasn't prepared for, but he could deal with it. "yeah? what's up?"
you were only able to meet his eyes directly since he was hunched over on your desk (thank god for that). "i want you to leave jujutsu."
he blinked. did he hear that right? sure, the idea of leaving did come across his mind every now and then, but he could never bring himself to do it. he opened his mouth to protest but hesitated before saying anything. ". . . why?"
you glance away for a moment. "they're just using you."
he stared at you for a moment. he knew you were right. hell, everyone knew it - he hated it just as much as you did - but there was no other option. he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "i know. . . i know they are. but i can't just leave. not now. i have responsibilities, there's so much more that i have to do that i can't just leave."
you gently cup his cheeks, tilting his head back up to look at you, despite his blindfold being on and you didn't know where his eyes were trained. "but you deserve more than that."
he didn't hesitate to lean into your hands, letting out a shaky breath. he wished he could leave. but who was going to take his place? he was the strongest for a reason. and what happens to his students when he leaves? megumi? itadori stuck with sukuna? he would never stop blaming himself if something or someone got hurt after he left. "i- i know but- i can't."
"if you wont leave, then promise me this-"
he didn't hesitate to nod, eyes trained on you as he listened to each and every word you had to say.
"-always come back safe to me."
he was a bit taken aback by this. he was strong enough to take on anything, that was what he was made for, right? he didn't doubt his abilities at all, but if it would ease her anxiety and make her happy, then he'd do it. "i promise."
your eyes narrow, taking in his expression with great scrutiny, making sure he wasn't lying. you gently lift his blind fold onto his forehead, finally meeting his beautiful blue orbs (he knew you loved just looking at them).
"thank you, 'toru." you say softly.
his ears grew a little pink at that. "of course." he muttered quietly.
you couldn't help but laugh a little at how shy he seemed for a moment. "dork."
"but i'm your dork, right?" he smirked down at you, looking at you with those bright, adoring eyes.
you roll your eyes and tug the blindfold back down. "yes. my dork."
he was a bit surprised by you tugging down the blindfold but could only smile like an idiot. that's all he was. he was just a big idiot when it came to you. "good. all yours~" he smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.
you hum. "you know, i never see you kissing nanami's forehead. . ."
he snorted. "i never kiss anyone's forehead. except for yours." he hummed, pressing another kiss to your forehead, then to your nose. he really was just trying to kiss any part of you he could.
"alright, lover boy, that's enough." you smile and push him away gently.
he pouts and tugs you back against his chest. "come on, just one more. please?"
you shake your head which causes him to whine and pull you closer, your thigh sliding between his and you feel him. all of him.
"i need you." he murmured into your ear.
now, this wasn't the first time you two have gotten a little handsy. working as a sorcerer, you don't have much time for relationships, but that doesn't mean you can just stop being horny. so, just as satoru was your cure for that, you were his. and you couldn't just leave him like this.
"i didn't even do anything, satoru-!" you're cut off by him grinding his hips down against your thigh and you feel that familiar heat pool in your stomach.
"don't need to baby, you're just so fuckin' pretty."
you have to bite back a groan at the sultry hint in his voice, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear. "please, angel."
you push him back against the chair, making him sit, easily sliding off his belt like it was an everyday occurrence (which it practically was from how good this man felt and sounded while he was balls deep inside of you).
his eyes are trained on you and he slides off his blindfold once more so you can look into his eyes. but what he wasn't expecting was for you to get down on your knees after sliding down his boxers to his ankles, and begin pressing kisses down the shaft of his pretty pink cock.
he has to stop the moan from escaping his lips just at mere kisses, and a large hand clamps over his mouth as your tongue swirls over his flushed tip, leaking with precum.
"so wet already." you snicker, but before you can utter out another word he bucks his hips up into your face, dick sliding down the slippery hole of your throat, making him groan loudly. "mm, i'm sorry. so so so sorry, baby. please- ngh- forgive me." he babbled out, hand coming down to gently stroke your hair as you tried to suppress your gag reflex from acting up.
you can only hum, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine as you began to suck him off, hands holding down his toned thighs to stop him from fucking your throat until you couldn't breathe.
his hand bundled up your hair to give him some sort of leverage so he could try (and fail) to hold himself together. that's when his eyes flicker over to the open door and he almost cums right there on the spot - you fucking knew.
"y/n, the door-" his voice is muffled by his hand, and the look in his eyes shows he's about to lose it. if nanami or yaga, or even one of the kids walked in right now-
you slowly slide him out of your mouth, swallowing his slick as you respond. "then be a good boy and be quiet, sweetheart."
he whines at your words. you knew how vocal he could be, especially when you sucked him off - nothing but loud groans and praises, practically begging for you to let him cum in your pussy next or he "might just die."
for someone known as the strongest, he didn't act like it the second his dick came into the picture.
he watches intently as your candied lips slide over his length, cheeks hollowed out, making room for him just because he got hard after kissing your face.
he's entranced by the way only his tip stays in your mouth when you pull up, then sink back down around him in a heap, and he's biting his shirt just to shut himself up (not that it was doing him any favors). you could still hear his pretty groans as his head rolls back, hips faintly stuttering up into your mouth as he tried to close that space and feel your tight little throat around him again.
"fuckfuckfuckfuck-" his hand begins to guide you, pushing you down and slowly lifting you back up easily. he can feel your throat spasming every time you take him in fully, little white hairs tickling your nose before you're back up to just his tip.
you blink up at him and god is this view ethereal. brows knit together, long white lashes fluttering ever so slightly at each thrust, his uniform wettened by his mouth as he moans into it, saying your name like some sort of prayer. you feel just how wet your panties are, and you know you're gonna ask those long fingers to do you a favor later.
"'m gonna cum," the shirt falls from his mouth as he warns you, but you just hum some more, and you know that's what set him off as he lets out the most pornographic moan and keeps you at your pace to ride off his orgasm, and you're sure every person in the school could hear it. creamy white liquid just filling your throat and no matter how many times you swallow, it just keeps coming.
and your thoughts are only confirmed when nanami's voice comes from down the hallway and you almost choke on his load. "gojo?"
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magisland · 3 days
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YOUR EXISTENCE
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it was supposed to be another ordinary day. mingyu would get back from work with a tired expression, but hed still have a smile on his face, immediately walking towards you and peppering you with kisses while hugging you and telling you how much he missed you throughout the day.
however, this time was different. mingyu opened the front door with a devastated look on his face, which made your smile instantly drop when you turned around to look at him. even on his worst days of work he would never come back with such a bad facial expression. he didn’t greet you with a smile or a soft voice, just with a somber hum
“hey.. food’s ready, gyu” you said softly, but he just nodded and took a seat on the dinner table, not minding to look at your direction. hes never like that, so you were dead worried, was someone being mean to him at work? did his boss shouted at him?
the dinner was silent, you kept glancing at him while he still didnt even bother to look at you. it was almost like he was ashamed, or maybe pissed at you. the lack of information was killing you.
“okay,” you released the cutlery on your plate, “what is wrong? who do i need to kill?”
“me.” he said staring at his almost untouched plate.
“you? why? gyu.. what happened, love?” you rechead his hand and rubbed your thumb against it, making him start to hold back his tears, “come on, talk to me, please”
mingyu took a deep breath before finally looking at you, he then looked at your hands, your hand holding his in a gentle yet firm way, “i got fired,” he sighed and leaned back on the chair, his hands running through his hair in a frustrated way, “i dont know what to do now”
you looked at him with a empathetic look, “your boss is dumb. he just lost the best employee he had in that entire company” you took his hands once again, “its going to be fine”
mingyu shook his head in denial, it was so hard seeing him being pessimistic because he would always be the one to think in a positive way. at this point, tears were already coming out of his eyes while he looked at you with such a depressing expression, “i feel like i dont have reasons to exist anymore”
you immediately placed a hunk of meat in his mouth to shut him up, “im the reason of your existence and youre the reason of mine. this is not the end of the world because you’re such a hardworking person and you gave me. youll soon find another job because you’re good”
“thank you, love” he said while wiping away his tears, “i guess youre right, its not the end of the world. ill find another job”
“good, thats the spirit! now dont you ever say something like once again or else it will be the end of my world and i wont know what to do” he chuckled hearing your response, “got it.. i love you, yn”
you smiled, “i love you more, gyu”
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poohsources · 1 day
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🐝  *  ―  𝑬𝑷𝑰𝑪: 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑨𝑳 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.
Troy Saga ❛  do what i say and you'll see them again.  ❜ ❛  what do you live for? what do you try for?  ❜ ❛  say no more, i know tat i'm ready.  ❜ ❛  the blood on your hands is something you won't lose.  ❜ ❛  is the price i pay endless pain?  ❜ ❛  something feels off here, i see fire but there's no smoke.  ❜ ❛  we should try to find a way no one ends up dead.  ❜ ❛  why should we take when we could give?  ❜ ❛  i see in your face, there's so much guilt inside your heart.  ❜ ❛  have you forgotten the lessons i taught you?  ❜
The Cyclops Saga ❛  it's almost too perfect, too god to be true.  ❜ ❛  what gives you the right to deal a pain so deep?  ❜ ❛  your life now is in my hand.  ❜ ❛  remember them, we're the ones who carry on.  ❜ ❛  what good would killing do when mercy is a skill more of this world could learn to use?  ❜ ❛  i am your darkest moment.  ❜ ❛  i don't know where i went wrong but i warned ya', and you failed the test.  ❜ ❛  that's just like you, why should i be surprised?  ❜ ❛  unlike you, every time someone dies i'm left to deal with the strain.  ❜ ❛  i'll remind you i saw you as a friend but now we're done.  ❜
The Ocean Saga ❛  at this rate, we won't make it out alive.  ❜ ❛  please don't tell me you're about to do what i think you'll do.  ❜ ❛  yes, but how much longer til your luck runs out?  ❜ ❛  you rely on wit, and people die on it.  ❜ ❛  you're like the brother i could never do without.  ❜ ❛  and suddenly you doubt that i could figure this out?  ❜ ❛  keep your friends close and your enemies closer, never really know who you can trust.  ❜ ❛  'cause the end always justifies the means.  ❜ ❛  do you know who i am?  ❜ ❛  you are the worst kind of good 'cause you're not even great.  ❜
The Circe Saga ❛  whatever you need to say can wait some more.  ❜ ❛  there's no length i wouldn't go if it was you i had to save.  ❜ ❛  wouldn't you like a taste of the power?  ❜ ❛  don't thank me friend, you very well may die.  ❜ ❛  did you do something to them?  ❜ ❛  if you make one wrong move, then you're done for.  ❜ ❛  you and i are now evenly matched.  ❜ ❛  you've given me no reason to bestow you with my trust.  ❜ ❛  who's to say, with the mistakes i've made that they will be the last mistakes i ever make?  ❜ ❛  this is the price we pay to love.  ❜
The Underworld Saga ❛  all i hear are screams, every time i dare to close my eyes.  ❜ ❛  i no longer dream, only nigtmares of those who've died.  ❜ ❛  when does a man become a monster?  ❜ ❛  now you tell us our effort's are for nothing?  ❜ ❛  how has everything been turned against us?  ❜ ❛  do i need to change?  ❜ ❛  i'm the only one whose line i haven't crossed.  ❜ ❛  what if i'm the problem that's been hiding all along?  ❜ ❛  what if i've been far too kind to foes but a monster to ourselves?  ❜ ❛  if i became the monster and threw that guilt away would that make us stronger?  ❜
The Thunder Saga ❛  you wouldn't have spared me. i made a mistake like this, it almost cost my life.  ❜ ❛  i've got a secret i can no longer keep.  ❜ ❛  you know that we are the same.  ❜ ❛  we must do what it takes to survive.  ❜ ❛  tell me you did not know that would happen.  ❜ ❛  if you want all the power, you must carry all the blame.  ❜ ❛  how are we supposed to trust you now?  ❜ ❛  how much longer must i suffer now?  ❜ ❛  someone's gotta die today and you have got the final say.  ❜ ❛  please don't make me do this.  ❜
The Wisdom Saga ❛  you've made your worst mistake here.  ❜ ❛  this cruel world doesn't give out presents just for being good.  ❜ ❛  you're my friend, i couldn't ask for more.  ❜ ❛  did you know you talk in your sleep?  ❜ ❛  i'm what you want here, i'm what you need here.  ❜ ❛  you don't know what i've gone through.  ❜ ❛  i know your life's been hard, i'll stay inside your heart.  ❜ ❛  life would be so much worse if you had died.  ❜ ❛  you dare to defy me, to make me feel shame?  ❜ ❛  no one beats me, no one wins my game.  ❜
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tarotofhope · 2 days
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PAC: 【What do your parents think about you & Why ?】
(Please Read My Pinned post *IMPORTANT NOTE* before selecting a Pile)
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Pick an Image by meditating and selecting the image you feel called to. You can be attracted towards more than 1 image. If you are not able to select maybe this reading isn't for you.
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𖨆 Pile 1
Cards: Death, 3 of Wands, 6 of Swords, 8 of Cups, Strength, Queen of Wands, 4 of Cups, The World, 9 of Wands.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 1. There's a lot of heavy energy in this pile because there are two 8s in the cards. For some of the audience reading this pile, Either, both of your parents/one of your parents could have passed away when you were very young and you had to live with your relatives or in foster homes. For some of you, even if your parents were alive, they could've been so busy that they left you under the care of other people most of your childhood and teen age. For the remaining audience, I'm getting that even if both of your parents were alive and not so busy, they were very over-protective, over-bearing and strict, so you never opened up to them, you kept your thoughts to yourself and they never got to know you very well. All in all, whoever took your custody, didn't do their job well. You got sick and tired of them, and you've always been looking for a listening ear and comfort in the outside world. You've been waiting for someone to truly understand you and love your soul, someone who doesn't tie you up(not in a literal sense, iykyk) just because they're concerned about your safety, someone who respects your right to freedom. You might have left your guardian/parents behind and went out on your own journey to discover yourself, embracing your independence. It took a lot of courage and strength to do this, but you did it anyway. You might have faced a few major ups and downs in your life as a result of which you became mature much faster than your peers. You're much stronger now and you'll continue to be so. Your journey is from hardships to finally becoming The Queen of Wands. You might have good judgement of people and their intentions. Your parents/guardian might say that they were protecting you from harm all this time, that's why they were strict with you, they want your best and so on..but in reality, you know that wasn't required, what they actually did was messed you up. For some of you, they could be keeping you from going far away from them, because now they expect you to take care of them. They're not allowing you to grow and be your own person. Now, see, people from different countries will have different outlook on this. Indeed, old people need care but keeping a young person trapped and not letting them have a life of their own is not right. Raising children with the intention of getting something in return during oldage, is outright selfish.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 1.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
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𖨆 Pile 2
Cards: The Hierophant, The King of Pentacles, The Sun, 8 of Wands Rev. clarified by The World, The Fool clarified by Ace of Pentacles, Ace of Cups clarified by 2 of Pentacles, Queen of Swords.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 2. You guys along with pile 1 are my brave and bold people, I must say. Great leadership qualities you've got. Even your parents think so. They just think that you don't realize this, they think that you're not aware of your full potential and you're not quite out there as you should be in order to become a successful person. They think you're also very demanding of them and you don't understand the value of money. They also know that you're religious or traditional in a way but you make your own rules when it comes to you. They know you'd do very well when you'll be in a position to lead a group of people. I can see 2 scenarios here, few of you could themselves be facing a hard time in love, struggling a lot, while others of you could be giving a hard time to people who are in love with you/romantically interested in you, such as rejecting proposals, having commitment issues, intentionally or unintentionally breaking other people's heart. You are more ambitious and goal oriented and interested in focusing on your career rather than love. Your parents can sense this, whether you talk about these issues or not. You seem like a very practical and rational person to your parents and so you're not verbal about how much you love them, you're a person of actions. Your love language could be acts of service or gift giving. They also think that you believe in yourself so much that nobody can bring you down. Yet there is this issue that you somehow do not realize the amount of power you hold, that you have the ability to achieve big things in life. Your parents already see you as the King of Pentacles, The Hierophant, but they think you're not working up to it whether they've ever said this to you or not.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 2.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
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𖨆 Pile 3
Cards: 3 of Pentacles, Temperance, 2 of Swords clarified by The Moon, 4 of Wands, 2 of Wands, 3 of Wands, Ace of Swords, High Priestess, Queen of Pentacles.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 3. Your parents think that you're very mature and you can also give good advice to people. They think you're quite sensible and philosophically, you're very open minded but when it comes to being sure of your own life, you get very confused. You might be torn between choosing your career and settling down. You don't know how to balance both. You're confused about what could come upon you if you do both the things. Currently, you could be more focused on your career, you might be wanting to achieve stability in your career first or you have a set target of achieving something specific in regards to your professional life. As far as your love life is concerned, whatever your relationship status might be, you seem heavily confused because you're afraid that your love life might interfere with your professional life. Your parents are very concerned about this because they want you to have more clarity in life and they want you to arrive at a proper conclusion. They might be trying to give you advice on this, but you're still confused and want to be left alone to decide for yourself on such significant matters of your life. Some of you might be into long distance relationships and so you're even more confused while some of you want to travel abroad for work and settle there. A few of you might even be waiting for your visa or if you're already abroad, you might be waiting for your citizenship. I'm also seeing lot of arguments here, between you and your parents. Your parents might be traditional and they might want you to have a traditional approach to life too. They want you to become responsible in life. You might want to travel the world or enjoy your life your way no matter how messed up it may look like to others. You don't want to have regrets later on in life. Your parents think you're not clear-headed though you seem so put together, they think you're so much internally balanced but you're not using your inner guidance in this matter.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 3.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
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𖨆 Pile 4
Cards: 9 of Cups, Page of Pentacles, The Hierophant, Queen of Pentacles, 9 of Pentacles clarified by Justice, The Sun, The Tower, King of Cups, 8 of Pentacles and 4 of Cups.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 4. Your parents think you're very lazy. You could belong to an upper middle class family or a financially well off family. They think you've been fortunate enough to have everything you demand available to you within no time. They think they've spoiled you but they still love you so much. Some of you could be an only child. Some of you could've started your own business or joined your family business. They know you're someone who wouldn't like to work under anyone, you would want your own thing. Your parents know that you're very talented but you don't do anything about it or you don't extract the full advantage out of it. They believe you can show the world how talented you are, that you are your own individual person, unique and full of potential despite coming from a wealthy family. They don't want the world to tell you later on that you didn't achieve anything on your own. You could have also inherited a lot of ancestral property or wealth. You want to continue having this kind of life in your future too but you're not working hard enough for it. You might also be very young at heart or very childish. You like to be spoon fed or you want others to do your work for you. Your parents might also have this fear that, if you don't learn your lessons by yourself, life will find out other ways to teach you and then that would put you in a tough situation and you wouldn't like it, you might have to learn the hard way then. That's why they want you to work hard for yourself and your future. You might also have too many friends, too many people who might not even be your well wishers. Your parents(even your guides) want you to choose wisely. You need to focus on yourself and that can be done only when you'll be in solitude. You need to observe more and be more connected with yourself.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 4.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
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𖨆 Pile 5
Cards: Justice, 4 of Swords, 4 of Cups, The Hanged Man, 6 of Pentacles, 4 of Pentacles, The Empress, 9 of Cups Rev, The Tower and The Emperor.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 5. Your parents think that you're unbiased and fair. You don't do things to show off or to impress anyone. You'll let people hate you for the things you do, which you think is right in your heart. Even your parents could be a little irked by how you defend yourself and others because they think you're arguing when you're just putting your point across. They think you're the quiet, calm and lonely child of your house. You not only like your solitude but you thrive in it. You function best when you're left alone, they think. They know you're also the one who hates conflicts but would start a fight if you're being wronged. They also think you're emotionally very sensitive and would go out of your way to help others. Your parents also want you to let go of the past and the things that hurt you, because you get yourself stuck in the sorrow and hurt and then you just don't budge, you don't move on. It takes a lot for you to get out of an emotional turmoil. They like how you're happy with your own self but they also want you to get out of your comfort zone and be out there more, make friends, talk more, socialize more. Maybe you have a very few friends or no friends at all. They think you'll succeed in your life if you go out and travel more because they think you also lack confidence and boldness. They think you're also very protective of them, very caring and family oriented. They want you to become strong because you might have faced a lot of difficulties earlier and you still appear very naive and weak to them(for a few of you, your parents or others might even tease you for appearing naive and weak) but I think you have a lot of inner strength, pile 5, which the world doesn't see. They think you're the disciplined and obedient child. They know you'll stick to them in tough times but some of your parents might even be taking advantage of you. They also think that you're not smart and clever enough to understand tricky situations/people, you may or may not be so.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 5.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
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Thank you so much for being here. I post PAC readings every Tuesday and Friday. Do love and support by reblogging, liking or following.
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lycheeloving · 10 hours
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Why is there almost no Lex Luthor content... I saw him in Young Justice and immediately got inspired lol
Anyways, here's a yandere!Lex Luthor fic, with Superman and Batman rescuing you, but do they have good intentions? 👀 (gender neutral reader ofc)
Warnings for mind controlling/altering devices & substances ✌️ and general yandere stuff ofc
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You're not the biggest fan of big events with many people, but with Lex at your side, you find you don't really mind anything, even the gala you're currently at.
Holding his hand, you happily watch him as he talks to rich people you couldn't care less about, when he turns to look at you.
You perk up as he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You try to lean into it, but he pulls away too fast for your liking. At least you catch a whiff of his scent, he always smells so good...
"Be a doll and get yourself a drink at the bar, would you?"
Ah.
That's code for "we're going to talk about confidential business stuff". Sure. You can spend some time away from him, even if it makes you feel a bit uncomfortable. You'll do it for him!
You silently nod, reluctantly let go of his hand and start making your way across the room towards the bar.
As you're leaving, you make out the word "Justice League". They have been giving him trouble recently, is that what their conversation is about? You can never remember what exactly their issue is with him... He's just a CEO!
Unfortunately the bar is out of earshot, so you can't keep listening, which is exactly why he sent you away in the first place, but you sit on a stool from which you can still easily see him.
He always says that you shouldn't worry your pretty little head about his boring business stuff, so you don't, but he always looks so good when talking about it! So serious and in charge...
After ordering a fun looking cocktail you sigh, already missing him.
You didn't use to like alcohol, but everything tastes better now that you know him, so you indulge in the occasional drink.
You catch yourself staring at Lex. Maybe you shouldn't look at him this much? What if people think he's weird for dating someone who's this obsessed with him? You don't want that for him, he has so much to deal with already... Swishing your drink around, you try to tear your eyes away from him.
You sigh again.
Somebody slides onto the stool next to you and orders a fancy sounding drink. He turns to you.
"Are you ok? I could hear you sighing from across the room."
"I'm fine... I just miss my boyfriend." You hold back another sigh and absentmindedly trace the rim of your glass.
"Oh, so you came here alone?"
"No, he's over there." You subtly point at him. "He's just talking about some important business stuff without me right now."
"Lex Luthor?" He pulls a face as you nod.
"So you're..." He says your name. Apparently people know you! Huh. You hadn't realized.
"I'm Bruce Wayne, by the way."
Now that he mentions it, you don't know how you didn't notice it before. He is quite famous. You probably should have recognized him, but you were too distracted by how dreamy Lex looks...
"What are you doing with him? I mean, he's not known for being fun. Or kind."
He sounds like he's joking, but you don't think it's funny. Your face turns serious.
"You must not know him very well, then."
He holds up his hands in defense. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you or anything. Or him, I guess..." He trails off.
Changing the topic with a grin, he says: "I'm guessing that means I don't have a chance with you?"
You shake your head. He can't be serious.
"...What if I shave my head? Would you consider leaving Luthor for me if I was bald?"
You crack a little smile at that. But your answer remains the same.
"No, I wouldn't leave my Lexie for anyone."
His eyes widen. "Oh, wow, so your relationship is pretty serious, then?"
Why would he even ask that?
"Of course it's serious, I love him!"
He pauses for a moment, seemingly contemplating something.
"...and does he love you?"
You gently touch the spot where Lex last pressed a kiss to your face and look in his direction, only to find he's already looking right back at you. You smile.
"He does." You're sure of it.
Bruce gets up from his chair as Lex starts making his way towards you. "Well, it's been fun, but I'm going to go find someone I actually have a chance with." And avoid a confrontation with Lex.
He winks at you. "Bye!"
You don't say anything back as he leaves, because you're too busy looking at Lex, who's now standing right in front of you. He puts his hands on the bar behind you, caging you in with his arms.
"What did Wayne want from you?"
"Oh, I don't know, nothing important." Already distracted, you reach up to play with his tie.
He raises an eyebrow. "Were you not paying attention to him? Good. Can't have you leaving me for him."
Your eyes widen and you shake your head, even though you know he's just teasing you.
You would never! He smirks as if he can read your mind.
"Well, I have some more business to attend to. I have informed our driver that he is to take you home whenever you wish, while I will be returning to the office."
You pout at him. "I know your work is important, but please don't take too long. I'll miss you..."
He smirks. "I know, darling. I will hurry back to you."
The kiss he presses to your lips is eagerly reciprocated by you, before he gently pulls your hand away from his tie and goes back to the people he was talking to earlier, vanishing through the door.
No reason to stay here now that he's gone, right? You finish your drink and leave the building, but as you turn to look for your driver, you bump into someone.
You go to apologize, but the other guy is faster.
"Sorry! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"
His eyes widen and he straightens his glasses.
"Wait! You're Lex Luthors significant other, right?"
You nod with a smile. How lovely that this is what people know you as!
"I'm Clark Kent, with the Daily Planet. I've been meaning to talk to you about-"
Your smile vanishes. "No comment."
Lex told you that no matter what you say, reporters twist it in a way that makes you look bad, and that it's best not to engage.
He seems a bit disappointed at your quick response. "That's fair. But off the record, can I just ask how you met him? As far as I know, you weren't a part of these circles before you showed up on his arm one day."
"Off record?"
He nods.
You think you can trust him, at least with some of it.
"We met at my workplace. I used to be a barista."
Not knowing how to make it sound nice, you leave out the part where you thought he was rude to your coworker and reprimanded him, and how you only grudgingly agreed to go on a date with him because he cornered you after work and threatened to get your coworker fired if you refused.
But it was all a big misunderstanding! During that first date you realized that you really like him and that he's a really good guy!
He just didn't know how else you'd agree to go out with him after you were so angry at the beginning!
"So it was love at first sight?" Kent questions.
"Not first sight, maybe, but I knew he was the one during our first date. It just... felt so right."
Lex, of course, did know at first sight, but he's always been smarter than you, so it's not a surprise that he caught on more quickly.
"Well, thanks for the conversation. I'm going to find someone I can actually interview now, so my boss doesn't get too mad at me. Bye!"
He stumbles towards the building, bumping into someone else. What a clumsy guy! You catch him looking at you again before he enters through the door.
You finally make your way to the driver and get into the limo, driving home in silence.
Time for a lonely night without Lex...
After you get home and get ready for bed, you put on one of his shirts and go to sleep on his side of the bed.
That way you'll definitely wake up when he returns, because he refuses to sleep on your side. He'll have to get you out of the way somehow, probably pick you up...
Burying your face in his pillow where his scent is the strongest, you fall asleep.
A noise from the direction of Lex's home office wakes you up.
You're still on his side of the bed. Did he come home and keep working? Seriously? Maybe he'll let you sit in his lap while he finishes whatever he's doing...
Quietly walking towards his room, you hear low voices. Is Lex on a call? In the middle of the night?
As you make it to the entrance, you can finally make out words. It's not Lex.
"-only let you come because you said you could be stealthy. If I knew you'd be this loud, I would have come here alone."
You sneak a look around the door. Is that Batman? And-
"This is my city, and I know Luthor better than anyone, that's why I came along. Besides, I didn't make that much noise!"
-Superman!
You take a step back. Where is the button that alarms security again...? Next to the bed, right? You start making your way back to the bedroom, but...
"We have company."
You're almost at the button, try to start running towards it, but Superman is in front of you before you can blink. Shit.
"Sorry, can't let you inform anyone that we're here, we still haven't gotten everything we came for!"
He actually looks apologetic. What is wrong with him? Breaking into your home, but pretending to feel bad about it?
He holds onto both of your arms and leads you back into the office, where Batman is tinkering with Lex's computer. What could they be looking for?
"Well, if you're here already, we might as well ask you directly. What do you know about Luthor's mind-controlling technology?" Batman asks you.
Mind-controlling? What would Lex need that for?
"I- I think you've got the wrong person. I have no idea what you're talking about."
"People who usually would never cooperate with Luthor have started working for him, so I got suspicious. After some research I was able to figure out that he uses microchips to control them. But we haven't been able to figure out how to extract them without causing damage to the person they've been installed in."
Batman takes a step towards you.
"So I'll ask one more time. What do you know?"
You really have no idea what he's talking about.
"Wh- What would Lex even use that for? I don't understand!"
"Batman, are you sure they know anything? We're already 99% sure there's a chip inside of them as well, maybe one of its effects is not remembering anything about the chips?"
"It was worth a try." Batman turns to look at Superman. "I assume this means you haven't checked for a chip yet? Make yourself useful and use your x-ray vision."
"Oh, right! Right..." Superman mumbles. "No need to be rude about it."
He focuses his gaze on you. It's pretty unnerving, knowing he's looking inside of you. There's nothing you could hide from him, nothing you could do to make him stop looking at you. You hope he's really only looking inside of you...
After looking at you for too long for comfort, he chimes up: "Yep, there's a chip! Right in the shoulder."
Of course there's a chip in your shoulder, but that doesn't mean you're being controlled!
"That's just a tracker! Lex put it there in case I'm ever kidnapped or something, so he'll immediately know where I am!"
"...You let him put a tracker in you? Voluntarily?" Superman seems confused.
"Yeah? Why wouldn't I?" You're confused as well. Why wouldn't you let him? He did it because he loves you! To take care of you!
Batman doesn't seem to care, only humming in acknowledgement and going back to fiddling with the computer.
That reminds you that Lex put another gadget on you...
Your necklace (beautiful, expensive, and of the letters "LL") sends him a discreet emergency signal as soon as you take it off! You just need to be able to reach it...
"Um... Superman?" You crane your neck to look up at him.
"Do you have to hold onto me like that? I mean, just, what could I do to get away, right?"
You look up at him and try to look as confused and innocent as possible.
You glance at Batman. He seems to not be interested in your conversation at all, instead focusing on the computer. Good.
"You're fast enough to immediately catch me, before I could even take a tiny step! Just- This position is kind of awkward to be in, right?"
Please fall for it, please fall for it...
"Sure, you've been pretty cooperative so far, I don't think we have anything to worry about with you..."
He chuckles, almost embarrassed, then reluctantly lets go of his hold on your arms, flexing his hands.
Holy shit. It worked.
"Nice, thanks!" You smile. What an idiot.
Now you just have to play it cool...
Act natural and normal and not like you're up to anything...
You reach up to rub your neck, as if having turned it to look up at Superman strained it.
Well, it did, but you're mostly doing it to get your hands near the necklace. And now you just have to-
The necklace opens with a quiet click, followed by an alarm sounding from the computer.
Right. You forgot it sends a signal to all of Lex's technology, including the computer in this room. Oops.
Oh well, doesn't really make a difference if they're aware that you alarmed Lex or not. What could they do about it now?
Both Superman's and Batman's heads snap towards you. You smile. Lex should be on his way now.
"Superman, why would you let go of-" Batman cuts himself off. "Doesn't matter. I have the information we came here for. Let's go."
"Are we just going to leave them here?" Superman sounds concerned.
Batman walks towards you, holding something up to your face. "No."
It smells weird, what is that? You feel dizzy, try to pull your head away from it, but Batman is holding onto you, you can't move.
Then, everything goes black.
You wake up on a bed in a bright, unfamiliar room with an ache in your shoulder.
There's a bandage in the spot where your tracker is. Or, used to be, you assume.
Rude of them, to dig around in your body without your permission.
Lex will freak out when he hears about this. He must be looking for you already.
What is this, some kind of infirmary? Where exactly are you?
Just when you decide to get up and try to leave or find out more about where you are, Superman enters the room.
"Oh, you're awake!" He gently pushes you to lie back down. You don't object, you know how strong he is, even if he is being careful right now.
"You shouldn't get up yet, your body should still be adjusting to the chip being gone."
He looks at you with curiosity. Or with hope? You can't quite tell what his expression means.
"Which, by the way, do you feel any different? About Luthor? Any memories popping up that you couldn't remember before?"
Now that he mentions it, some of your time with Lex seems... clearer. You suddenly remember the whole chip thing. And that he's constantly trying to fight (and kill) Superman and the rest of the Justice League. And a bunch of immoral business choices. And villain stuff.
But you still love him.
"I don't feel any different."
Lex must have had a good reason to block those memories from your mind.
Maybe it was for exactly this scenario, so that if the Justice League kidnapped you, you wouldn't be able to tell them anything! Unfortunately they were able to restore those memories, but that doesn't mean that you have to tell them that and make it easier for them!
Superman looks disappointed. "Oh... That's unfortunate."
Why does he seem to be so invested in this? Just because he hates Lex? What does he care if Lex is in a relationship, that shouldn't concern him at all!
"So can I go now?" You throw your legs over the side of the bed and sit up again.
"I mean, now that you know that I wasn't influenced by that chip? You can't keep me here, that would be kidnapping!"
It already is kidnapping, technically.
"Sorry, I can't let you leave." He doesn't look super apologetic about this.
"Batman is still working on something."
"I'm done working on it, actually," Batman responds.
Wait, when did Batman get here? You didn't hear him enter the room...
Superman perks up. "And did you find anything?"
"I did." Batman turns to you, his expression even more serious than usual.
"Blood tests revealed that you are affected by a toxin that messes with your pheromones. After digging through more information on Luthors computer, I was able to find correspondence between him and Poison Ivy. Apparently they made a concoction that is specific to your dna, meaning only you are affected by it, and it causes you to be attracted to him alone. He must have used it as an aftershave or perfume, but it seems pretty long lasting. The effects should last up to a month after exposure."
No. That can't be true.
"You're lying. Lex wouldn't do that. He had no reason to do that, I love him!"
Batman ignores you. "Luckily I was able to synthesize an antidote. Hold still."
You don't hold still, of course, trying to scramble off of the bed, but Superman holds onto you.
"Shhhh, calm down. You'll feel better soon," he whispers, his mouth unnervingly close to your ear.
Batman gets closer to you with a syringe, preparing to inject you with a green liquid.
"This is going to hurt."
"Wait!" you try to protest, but-
-you feel the syringe enter your skin, and then you feel pain. In your entire body.
It hurts! Why does it hurt so much!
You squirm in Superman's grip. Your head feels like it's going to explode.
There's nothing but pain for a few seconds that feel like eternity.
But then- nothing.
You feel nothing. No pain. And-
"Holy shit." You blink.
"Holy SHIT."
What did that fucker do to you?
"I was in a relationship with Lex Luthor? Why did nobody stop me! What is wrong with everyone!"
You blink again.
"I mean, I guess you stopped me. So... thank you?"
Superman lets go of you, seemingly content that you've come to your senses.
Batman seems to be holding back a smirk.
You're not done processing everything yet.
"Why would he-"
You forget what you were going to say and gasp, distracted by a new thought.
"Wait, what the fuck am I going to do now! Where can I go? I moved in with him and he made me break off contact with all of my friends! I don't have an apartment anymore or friends to stay with!"
You look at the two heroes. "D- Do you think he'll look for me? Probably, right? I mean, we were going to get married."
You feel sick.
"Wait, is an engagement legally binding? Fuck. Can I just leave? We didn't make it public yet, but that doesn't make a difference, right? Fuck!"
Superman puts his hand on your shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll take care of all of that. We won't allow him anywhere near you ever again."
Batman adds on: "And you can stay in the Watchtower for now. That's the safest place for you. He won't manage to get in here."
You frown. "Are you sure that's ok? I don't want to be a burden..."
Superman's smile gets wider, it's almost creepy.
Batman moves closer to you, putting his hand on your other shoulder. You're starting to feel a bit smothered.
"We'll gladly take care of you. For however long it takes."
You wonder if that means forever.
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Slow-Burn Confession
Summary: a fic that I wrote for the request (see my previous post). In short, both Nanami and reader are IN LOVE but have no idea how to confess and/or act around each other. "A toothrotting fluff" (c) ehehehehehehhehehehe
Characters: Nanami Kento x reader
Word count: 3.3K
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Nanami was absolutely fazed.
Throughout the years of working in Jujutsu Tech, the idea of falling in love with someone from the college has never crossed his mind. It’s not that he proclaimed celibacy and followed it: in fact, he had his fair share of hookups. But unlike Gojo or Geto, he never walked around bragging about them, so people naturally thought that romance was completely irrelevant for Nanami Kento.
He thought so too — until you appeared in his life.
He remembered that day all too well: how you stepped in front of everyone, sunlight caught in your hair, and announced that you are a transfer from Kyoto and will be working with Tokyo colleagues from now on. Of course, Gojo was the first to greet you. The white-haired idiot straight up approached you and hooked his arm around your shoulders casually. That’s when Nanami saw it: a small smirk of disapproval and a hint of irritation in your beautiful eyes. Without realizing it, Nanami sighed in relief: Gojo’s charms did not seem to work on you.
Wait, why did he even care?
Since that day, everything has changed for Nanami Kento. He has never been in love, but he became literally obsessed with you — and he was determined to figure his way out through the intricacies of love and to win your heart over.
The thing is… 
He had absolutely zero idea how to do it.
~~~
As you climbed the stairs of college, you were wrapping yourself in a huge knit scarf. The autumn was unusually cold so you required an extra layer of clothes when going to work. Busy untangling the scarf, you didn’t watch your step and bumped into a familiar tall figure.
Nanami’s perfume, an infatuating mix of wood, bergamot and vanilla, hugged you like a blanket. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a second and savoring just how perfect this man smelled. And then you lifted your eyes and met the steady gaze of his brown eyes.
His expression was unreadable and even scary. His sharp features and piercing eyes always made you feel smaller and more vulnerable — though you were a Grade 1, thank you very much. Also, you were helplessly in love with this man, and that made the whole situation so much worse.
“Nanami? I doubt he even knows what’s love”, Shoko let out a hearty cigarette puff when you asked her once about Nanami.
“Whaaaaat? This guy only knows work and drinking. Sometimes, cooking. Romance is not for him, babes”, Gojo rolled his eyes and made a face.
“Nanami is a very reliable man but I doubt he is interested in finding a romantic partner”, Geto said sympathetically. 
That was it. Everyone confirmed that Nanami Kento was the worst possible choice to fall in love with. But you just couldn’t help it (and frankly, didn’t want to fix the situation). Every time you managed to steal a glance at him, something hot, unfamiliar, and fuzzy started tossing in your chest. You craved his touch or at least attention — but he was way too scary and unapproachable to even try. And the way he acted around you: it was more than obvious that he saw you just as another colleague. Nothing more than that.
As you met his gaze, you just stood on the stairs, your lips parted slightly and your eyes opened wide in surprise. His expression remained unreadable, but then he jerked his hand suddenly — and you both stared at a rather huge coffee stain on your beige coat.
“Oh”. That’s all you managed to say.
Nanami’s face grew bright red and his expression became somewhat scary. You involuntarily took a tiny step back, as he reached out his hand and tried to grab your coat.
“I… let me fix this”, he mumbled, looking everywhere but in your eyes.
“Do I annoy him so much that he can’t even look at me?”, that was your thought as you just stood there in one place, with his hand clinging onto your sleeve.
“Yo, Nanami! Undressing a girl right in the street? Way to go!”, Gojo’s voice from somewhere behind carried a healthy dose of mockery, and Nanami’s face grew even hotter.
“Shit, shit, shit!”, he thought frantically, still unable to let go your coat. He just wanted to help untangle your stupid huge scarf, but it seemed like his body started acting on its own in your presence. Now he was standing there like an idiot, got your coat dirty and worst of all, made a fool of himself in front of you (and apparently, Gojo).
“Let’s just get inside”, you proposed quietly, trying not to look at his fingers and trying not to imagine how his hand would look on your neck. Or on your waist. Or in your hair. Dammit.
He nodded way too quickly and finally let go of your coat. “I’ll pay for the dry cleaning”, he said in a weird voice and started walking without looking at you.
You just sighed and followed him. Seemed like you’d spend another day dreaming about this man finally looking you in the eyes and making the move.
~~~
After the morning incident, Nanami just could. not. focus. He had no idea how to approach you now. He also could not stop thinking about how he almost touched the skin of your wrist when grabbing your coat. The thought sent shivers down his spine and caused pleasant and exciting tingling in his chest.
You just got him in a chokehold.
He spent a few hours deep in thought but did not come up with any plan. As he finally worked up the courage to come to you, he found out that you were already sent on a field trip with the students. And obviously, you took your stained coat with you.
Nanami groaned quietly, returning to his desk. 
Just how on Earth do people confess to each other?!
~~~
When you got to work the next day, you saw a box on your table. The box looked quite presentable: in delicate pastel colors and with simple yet pleasing patterns. There was also something atop of the box: some money and a note that said “for the cleaning”. No signature or something else: just dry information. How Nanami-like.
You were more intrigued by the box though. After quickly shoving the money in the pocket, you opened the cover and an overwhelming and warm smell of cookies filled the room.
There was a whole assortment: chocolate, lemon, and even coffee cookies. Each one of them looked perfect, surely straight out of an expensive bakery.
“Woah, cookies? Who’d get you these?”, Gojo appeared out of nowhere, trying to reach for the box. You immediately closed the cover shut, preventing the heist attempt.
“I don’t know”, you lied, knowing damn well Kento got these for you. “But I need to find out what bakery they are from. I haven’t seen any sweet looking so ridiculously good”.
Nanami who just happened to pass your desk, perked his ears at your words immediately. You caught his gaze and smiled warmly, “Um, thanks for… everything. Where did you get these cookies from? I might become a regular customer”.
He opened his mouth and shut it immediately. “Then you’ll have to move in with me”, were the words he wanted to say but never in his life he’d admit that he spent the whole night backing these cookies for you. He’d also never admit that he imagined feeding you with a cookie, collecting crumbs from your lips with his own lips and covering your mouth in a sweet deep kiss while leaning you onto his kitchen counter…
“Shit!”
Kento shook his head in irritation and glared at you, involuntarily allowing you to catch this slight hint of his annoyance. He didn’t think you’d take it personally: he was mad at himself for being so sappy around you. But you couldn’t have known it, obviously. So instead of admitting his feelings, he just mumbled something and paced away, his usual composure and confidence radiating while his head was a wild mess of emotions and thoughts. 
And while you watched him go, your heart aching in an unusual manner, Gojo managed to steal a cookie and laughed diabolically, shoving the whole stuff in his mouth.
“Dat stuff’s good”, he mumbled. “Tastes like homemade ones”.
“Homemade? Nah, can’t be true. Kento would never…”, you thought, wishing desperately for these cookies to really be homemade ones. 
With a sigh, you took one and tasted it. As expected, it was out of this world.
Just like damned Nanami Kento.
~~~
Since then, you haven’t seen him around for almost a week. While your eyes were desperately searching for him in the crowd, Kento was nowhere to be found. Finally, you went straight up to Shoko who never made fun of you and was as supportive as possible for a person who spent a couple of years with Gojo and Geto.
“Oh, Kento is home, recovering from an injury after the mission. No biggie”, Shoko just casually dropped, 
An injury, huh?
“It’s now or never”, you said to yourself while taking a taxi after work and carrying a box of sweets in your lap. “After all, I can visit a colleague and check up on him. Right?”
The taxi driver caught your gaze in the rear mirror and grinned, as if reading your thoughts. Your cheeks grew hot and you looked in the window, trying to focus on anything but the thoughts in your head.
~~~
The sound of the doorbell was unexpected, to say at least. Nanami heard it while lying in bed, reading a book and trying to distract himself from the annoying pain in his shoulder. The wound hurt like hell for the first couple days but it got much better. Still, Shoko insisted he’d stay at home and even Yaga chimed in, basically forcing Nanami to take a few more days off.
When hearing the doorbell, he raised a brow in surprise and reluctantly got out of bed. At first, he thought of putting on something more presentable than a pair of grey sweatpants and a blue shirt, but honestly, the illness got the best of him and he decided he didn’t really care. It was probably a delivery he forgot about, so his home clothing was more than enough to deal with another overly enthusiastic teenager with a pizza box.
The door swung open and he froze in place.
“You?!”
As he opened the door and you met his direct gaze, you felt pinned to the ground. The sight of Nanami in his sweatpants and loose shirt stirred something primal and uncontrollable in you. You gulped loudly and felt your face growing insanely hot.
“I erm… I wanted to check up on you..”
As you spoke, you took an awkward step forward and obviously stumbled. He instinctively caught you, his strong arms wrapping around you and instantly flaring up a wildfire in his chest. He was about to say something…. but then he looked down.
“Oh”.
A box of sweets that you’ve been holding was smashed between you two, cream and jam all over his shirt and your much-suffering coat. Your face grew bright red and you tried to pull away but his hands were holding you in one place firmly, not letting you move even an inch. Only after a few moments, he lifted one hand slowly, delicately putting his fingers on your cheek and wiping cream off it. Holding your gaze, he put his fingers to his lips and licked the cream carefully, a tiny smile tugging the corners of his mouth.
“Vanilla, huh, Good choice”, he said expertly, still holding you.
“How are you feeling?”, you asked in a tiny voice, kind of traumatized by your close proximity. His body was so insanely hot in all senses and the way his was holding you… 
You shifted a bit and suddenly felt it. Your eyes darted a glance below and he immediately released you, taking a step back.
“Much better now, thanks”, he couched, quickly turning around and gesturing for you to come in. “Did you come for anything specific or?...”
You instantly scolded yourself for the visit. Of course he wouldnt’ have expected you: he probably didn’t even think of you.
“I just wanted to check on you”, you mumbled in a weak voice, pulling away slowly. “Shoko told me you were injured”.
“It’s nothing”, he echoed, his eyes basically glued to you. “Wanna come in?”
Even if the Earth stopped spinning in space you’d be less surprised. “Come in like… in your house?”
In his head, Nanami groaned. Why did he even think you’d like to come in? You probably just stopped by with this stupid box. It was probably Shoko’s idea after all. Like he had any chance for your attention…
“If you don’t want to, it’s…”
“No, I want”, you stepped in confidently, leaving the remains of sweets on the ground in front of the porch (“will throw it away on my way back”).
Nanami’s brows raised in a mix of surprise and relief. You wanted to come in, that was good. Meaning his presence may even be pleasant for you. That’a s good start, right?
As you stepped in, you looked around, studying his place. As expected, it was neat yet surprisingly cozy. All his belongings basically radiated Nanami’s aura of peace and comfort. You spotted hell lots of books, a few candles here and there, and several intricate works of art on the walls. Overall, it felt oddly like… home.
Behind your back, Nanami coughed. “Would you like tea or coffee?”
“Coffee, please”, you turned around, and he couldn’t help but flicker in awe. You looked so natural in his apartment. As if you lived here with him for a few years to say at least. He desperately wanted to come close to you and kiss you but instead, turned and headed for the kitchen, cursing himself for looking so unpresentable.
As you watched him go, you felt your face going red again. Kento’s loose shirt and sweatpants showed off his perfect physique of a damn Greek God. And if before that evening you were mostly interested in him as a person, now you simply felt like a feral monster who hadn’t seen a man in forever. You whimpered quietly and followed him to the kitchen, having absolutely no idea what to do or how to act.
From his part, Nanami also had absolutely fucking no idea what to do next. The very thought of you being in his house this late at night — that was something Kento had never expected. Yet, here you were, following him to his kitchen and looking too damn cute with your hair fuzzy from the wind outside and with this hint of pink on your cheeks. More than everything he’d love to pull you close and never let go but went to the coffee machine instead. After all, he promised you some.
“I like your place”, you finally said, breaking the silence. “It’s very… cozy”. 
He hummed in agreement, busy with the coffee and the cups. “Thanks. It took me quite some time to arrange everything to my liking, sugar”.
You blinked in surprise. “Huh?”
Kento looked back at you, his face going red. He picked up a sugar bowl from the counter and repeated, “Would you like some sugar?”
“Oh my god, I’m so dumb”, you muttered. “Two, please”.
He pretended not to hear what you just said but noticed the way you reacted to his words.
“Could it be?...”
All events and the tension of the past few months since you met just exploded in his brain, pushing him to the limit of self-control. At that very point, Nanami Kento gave in to the reckless abandon and decided to test the waters. 
“Fuck it”.
He handed you the coffee cup, his fingers obviously brushing against yours. As you savored this faint touch, you looked up and met his direct and piercing gaze. It wasn’t the gaze that you were used to see. It was something brand new. Something both alluring and frightening. Something that made your knees weak.
Kento took a small step towards you, his mind going blank. The world around suddenly stopped existing and he didn’t give a shit about anything right now. His eyes were locked on your face, and he took another small step forward. And another.
As he approached, you just stood frozen in one place, completely dumbfounded. Nanami Kento, the infamous stoic sorcerer with no love life (according to the colleagues), was coming up to you in his damned grey sweatpants, looking like he was about to devour you whole. You wanted to say something, ask him what’s going on or simply object against such straightforwardness — and then you felt the tight grip of his hand in your hair as he pulled you close till your lips crashed in his.
With one hand locked on your hair, his other hand gripped your waist, moulding your body into his. He kissed you so hungrily as if he had been hiding that starvation for too long and now, finally, he had you in his arms. Your hands shot up, one arm around his neck and the other tangled securely in his blonde locks. As his tongue was exploring your mouth deeply and hungrily, you let out a soft gasp, his name rolling off your tongue like a prayer.
“Kento…”
He pulled back a bit, lips swollen and eyes glowing with a dangerous gleam.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You gulped nervously and finally asked the question that’s been haunting you for all this time.
“So can I… assume you like me too?’’
You expected anything, honestly. That he’d frown and say something like “it’s too early to discuss things like that”. Or that he’d say he was interested in sex only. 
Instead, Nanami laughed.
He laughed openly, his eyes now full of weird happiness. You were completely taken aback by his reaction, but he didn’t give you an opportunity to pull away. Keeping you in one place with his arms, he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, grinning against your skin.
“I don’t like you. I love you, sweetheart”, he muttered in rasped voice. “I love you so fucking much, you have no idea”.
And that was it. His words broke through the dam and you giggled too, following his laughter. It was the laugh of relief, of finally letting go of all the tension and uncertainty between you two. Still laughing softly, he scooped you up and headed for his bedroom in long confident stride, shaking his head in amusement.
“Kento”, you called him quietly, still not quite believing it was happening and resting your head against his chest as he walked.
“Hmmm?”, he looked down on you, a smile curving his lips.
“Can you… put a tie on?”
He let out a bark of laughter and nodded, his eyes gleaming mischievously.
“Your wish is my command, love. But be prepared that this tie is gonna move from my neck to your pretty wrists in no time”.
Nanami looked you in the eyes, his gaze full of adoration and love. And that was the moment you knew.
“I’m stuck with you, huh?”, you asked softly with a smile.
“Forever, sweetheart”, he confifmed, kissing your hair and laying you on the bed gently. “Now gimme a second to put on the damn tie and I’m all yours”.
You giggled happily at his words, watching him rummaging the closet. 
Everything was just perfect.
And in about one minute after the tie was found, perfect became even better. Side note: you never knew you could be that loud.
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starsenha · 2 days
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UNDERSTANDING / P.J
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Pairing ◊ fem!reader x bf!jay
Genre ◊ fluff, established relationship
Warnings ◊ talk about bad mental health, just jay being a sweetheart I'm sobbing
Word count ◊ 1k
Summary ◊ you were so greateful to have a such understanding boyfriend by your side.
a/n: felt really mentally bad a few days ago so this bloomed in my mind hehe, enjoy!
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You had been looking forward to your date with Jay all week. The plan was simple: a walk around the park, grabbing some ice cream, and maybe catching a movie later. But when the morning came, you woke up feeling… off. It wasn’t like you hadn’t felt this way before—this heavy, gray feeling that made everything seem distant—but it was the last thing you wanted on a day like today.
You stared at your phone, fingers hovering over the screen. It felt wrong to cancel, especially since you and Jay had been planning this. But at the same time, the thought of putting on a happy face, of pretending you were okay when you weren’t, felt exhausting. Jay knew about your struggles with mental health; you had talked about it before. But still, there was always that small voice in your head whispering that you were being a burden.
With a deep breath, you finally typed out the message.
[you] Hey, would it be okay if we postponed the date today?
You hit send before you could overthink it, your heart racing as you waited for his response. Within a minute, your phone buzzed.
[Songie 💙] Of course, baby! Are you okay?
You hesitated for a moment, your fingers tracing the edge of your phone as you tried to find the right words. You didn’t want to lie, but you also didn’t want to dump all your emotions on him. Finally, you decided to just be honest.
[you] I’m not really feeling like myself today. Kind of out of it, and I don’t want to bring any negativity to our date. I don’t want to bother you.
The response came quickly, like he was waiting for your message.
[Songie 💙] Hey, you are NEVER a bother. I mean that. I’d be happy to spend time with you, even if you’re not feeling okay.
A lump formed in your throat, and you blinked back the sudden sting of tears. You knew Jay cared, but sometimes it still caught you off guard how understanding he was.
Before you could reply, another message came through.
[Songie 💙] Actually… can I come over? I really want to see you, even if we don’t do anything. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. I just want to be there with you.
You smiled softly at his words, though you were still unsure. The idea of just… being with someone without having to pretend to be fine sounded comforting, but you didn’t want him to feel like he had to take care of you.
[you] Are you sure? I’m really not in the mood to talk much. I was just going to stay in and watch my comfort show.
You didn’t have to explain what your comfort show was. Jay knew. It was the one you always turned to when you were feeling down, something familiar and soothing.
[Songie 💙] Of course I’m sure. I’ll be happy just to see your pretty little face.
A small laugh escaped your lips despite yourself. Jay always knew how to make you feel a little lighter, even when everything else felt heavy.
[Songie 💙] I’ll come over in a bit. Want me to pick up something for you? I can grab your favorite from that fast food place you love. I know you probably haven’t eaten.
That hit deeper than you expected. He knew. He always seemed to know when you were struggling, even when you hadn’t said much. The thought of food hadn’t even crossed your mind until he mentioned it, and now that he did, you realized how hungry you were. But more than that, it was the fact that he was offering to take care of you in such a simple, thoughtful way that made your chest tighten with emotion.
[you] Okay. That sounds nice. Thanks, songie.
Jay: Don’t mention it. I’ll be there soon.
You put your phone down and leaned back against the couch, feeling a little less tense now that you didn’t have to worry about the date. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to spend time with Jay—it was the opposite. You just didn’t want to be a weight on him, to drag down what was supposed to be a fun day. But Jay… he never made you feel like that. Not once.
Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at your door. You opened it to find Jay standing there with a warm smile and a bag of food in one hand. His hair was a little messy from the wind, and he was wearing that hoodie you always said you liked on him.
"Hey, baby," he said softly, stepping inside. "I brought you your favorite."
The smell of fries and a burger filled the room, and your stomach growled. You hadn’t realized just how much you needed this. You smiled gratefully and took the bag from him.
"Thank you," you mumbled, feeling a little shy all of a sudden.
"Of course," he said, leaning down to give you a soft kiss on your forehead. "I’m just happy to see you."
You led him to the couch, where you had already set up your comfort show on the TV. Jay kicked off his shoes and settled in next to you, close enough that your legs brushed against each other, but not so close that it felt overwhelming. He handed you the food, and as you unwrapped your burger, he pressed play on the show.
For a while, you sat in comfortable silence, the sounds of the familiar show filling the room. Jay didn’t push you to talk, didn’t ask you how you were feeling. He just… sat with you, sharing the space in that gentle, understanding way that only he could.
After a while, you leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer, and you felt the tension in your body start to melt away, just a little. It wasn’t that everything was suddenly okay—it wasn’t. But having Jay there, quietly watching your favorite show with you, made things feel a little more bearable.
"You know," he said quietly after a while, his voice barely above a whisper, "I’m always here for you. Even on the hard days. Especially on the hard days."
You didn’t say anything, but you reached for his hand and squeezed it, your heart full of gratitude.
He squeezed back, and that was enough. You didn’t need words right now. You had Jay, and that was more than enough.
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Bad Guy 2
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: The men your mother brings home rarely stick around, but her latest catch can’t seem to unhook himself from your life.
Characters: Destroyer!Chris
Note: don't act like you don't want a meanie
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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The stump of the cone drips down your fingertips as the car jolts to a stop. You lurch against your seatbelt and hold up your hand and cup the other beneath, trying to keep the melting mess concentrated. Chris cranks the shifter as he idles in front of your mother’s house. 
“Hey, told ya not to get that all over,” he sneers. 
“Sorry, I...” you utter. “I’ll get out.” 
You balance the cone with one hand you do your best not to smear the mess as you unbuckle the seat belt. He huffs as he turns off the engine and his own belt recoils sharply. You glance over as he gets out and slams the door. He stomps around the car and wrenches open your side. 
“Out, now,” he barks. 
You obey and climb out, stepping up on the curb to examine the front of your shirt. He snaps the door shut and snarls again. 
“Keep pushing your chest out like that, someone might just take it as an invitation,” he grits. 
You wince and look up at him, hunching your shoulders. He makes everything you do a crime. As if you’re intentionally trying to offend him. 
“Well, thanks for the ride,” you mutter. “I’ll just go--” 
“I’m comin’ with ya. Mom’s waitin’,” he insists. “Sure, she’s real worried about you. Girl your age can get up to all sortsa trouble, can’t she?” 
He points you up the slanted walk and you glare ahead. Your eyes hurt as they long to roll. He walks beside you, crowding you on the thin blocks of pavement. As you get to the steps, he reaches over and taps your ass. 
“Go on, get up,” he orders you. 
You squeak and hurry up the steps. You just want to get away from him. He probably wants the same thing with the way he speaks to you. 
You wrench the door back with your free hand and angle inside. He catches the door behind you, brushing close as he follows you inside. You feel a tickle on your lower back and hurry up. 
“Gail,” Chris calls past you. 
There’s no answer. You don’t worry about it. Most of the time, your mom isn’t home when you get in. It never bothers you as you like having the house to yourself. 
You go into the kitchen and toss what’s left of your cone. You rinse your hands and ignore the man as he trudges around your house. Your mother’s squeaky hinge whines and he comes back out with a harrumph. 
You dry off and go back into the front room. He’s not far behind as he flops onto the couch with a growl. You peek over as he pulls out his phone and taps on it with his thumb. He jams the screen so hard you expect it to crack. 
“See where you get it from, huh,” he scoffs. “Damn woman.” 
You quickly flit away before you can hear any more of his gripes. He just seems the type to look for anything to be mad about. You might be a cynic, but you’re not an asshole about it. 
You change out of your uniform and toss it into the basket by the door. You’re annoyed. If he had driven a bit slower, you could have worn it at least one more time. 
You shimmy out of your pants and pull on some linen shorts and find a loose tee patterned with sunflowers. You stretch out on your bed and put on the next episode of your serial addiction. As you settle in, you hear him moving around in the kitchen. 
From what you can guess, your mom isn’t even there. She tends to do that. Just wander in and out whenever it suits you. If you were less of an introvert, you might have actually gotten in trouble as a teen with so little parental supervision. Come to think of it, she seems to have lived your teenage rebellion for you. 
A pounding on the door shakes you from your Netflix-induced trance. You sit up and sigh as you go to the door. It’s bad enough he’s getting in the way of your late night snacking but not he’s interrupting your binge. 
You crack the door open an inch and look out, “she’s probably down at Jim’s,” you say. 
“I didn’t ask that,” he brings his hand up to grim the door frame. “Did I?” 
“No,” you frown. 
“'No, sir,'” he wags his index at you. “You should try a smile. Be a lot prettier if ya did.” 
You blink. The only response you have will only piss him off. You clamp your lips tight and shrug instead. 
“There’s shit all in the cupboards.” 
You squint and shake your head, “okay?” 
“I mean, you can figure it out, can’t you? Man’s gotta eat.” 
You tilt your head in confusion, “what?” 
“Don’t tell me ya can’t cook neither. What kinda man’s gonna want a woman can’t do nothing?” He snorts. 
“I-- I don’t want to,” you blurt out. “Cook for yourself.” 
You push the door but he slaps his hand against it and forces it inward, “what did you just say, girl?” 
“I... you’re here for my mom. Go down to Jim’s and tell her to cook--” 
“You’re right. I’m here ‘cause your mommy’s a slut. Any other man stick around, huh? Pay for her bills? Her food? Don’t sound like men to me, and you,” he grabs your chin and you whimper, “don’t speak like much of a lady.” 
“Let go of me,” you smack his wrist, “ow.” 
“See, I knew your mama isn’t shit. The way she acts, shoulda figured you’d be the same.” He yanks you into the hall, “don’t worry, I’ll teach ya manners, girl.” 
“Ah, you’re hurting me--” 
“What do you think your husband’s gonna do when you get mouthy, huh? I’m saving you a lot of hard lessons,” he shoves you past him and you hit the wall with your shoulder. He snaps his knuckles against your ass. “I saw a box of macaroni, think you can boil some water or is that too much for that empty head of yours?” 
“What is your problem?” You turn and lean against the door. “I didn’t do anything and... and...” your words fizzle out as you see the way his icy eyes sear. You gulp. “Why are you so mean?” 
“Mean?” He laughs, “keep talking and I’ll put you over my knee. Now take your ass to the kitchen and make some dinner. I know you ain’t some child eating ice cream for supper, hm? Can’t be walking around like that.” 
He reaches for you and tugs the hem of your tee, letting it go so the fabric springs back up and you feel air flow along the underside of your tits. You quickly cross your arms and try to dissolve into the wall. You stare at him, annoyed but frightened. It occurs to you that he’s a lot stronger than you. 
“Well, you gonna walk around dressed like a woman, may as well be one,” he points down the hall. “You won’t like me when I’m real hungry.” 
You peel yourself off the wall and cower as you pass him. You feel his gaze on you, as oppressive as his presence. You bite down on your lip, as much to keep your thoughts inside as to keep from screaming. You should’ve known that one day your mother would bring home the wrong sort. Well, she always does but they can’t be bothered to stick around. 
You enter the kitchen and go to the cupboard. You search around for the sole box of mac and cheese. That’s your insurance policy. Your mother rarely grocery shops. She only ever goes to the bar or the liquor store. She drinks, she doesn’t eat. 
You grab a pot and fill it with water. As you light the burner, you glance over your shoulder. Chris stands in the doorway, watching, like a warden in a jail. You add salt to the water. You step back and wait for it to boil. The silence scrapes your ears. 
You sway listlessly and another growl rolls up his throat. He clicks his tongue. “Must get good tips down at the ice cream joint, huh? Wearing your cutoffs like you're at the beach.” 
You turn and frown, “...what?” 
“Nah, nah,” he shifts to stand inside the door, leaning his back on the wall, “not ‘what’. You say, ‘sorry, sir, my sweet little head’s empty and I don’t understand. Please explain to me what you mean.’ 
Your lips part and you stare at him. He snickers. 
“The way you look at me, I know you don’t got much going on in there, do ya, girl? So let’s think. You go down to the parlour in those jean shirts, wagging your ass as the boys, and they toss you a couple dollars extra. Hell, I bet those pudgy-bellied dads with all their regret and whiny brats like ya too.” He sniffs and his eyes pinpoint, “keep that up, you’ll find out how much you could make on a pole, flirting with all those greasy dicks down at Bunnies.” 
You recoil at the mention of the strip club. The very thought makes your skin crawl. And your shorts aren’t that short. Your boss said they’re just fine and it’s so hot out in the summer. 
“Shouldn’t flaunt it if you’re not selling it,” he says. 
You stare at the floor and drop your arms, tugging the hem of your shorts to make sure they aren’t bunched. “Sir, I’m not... flaunting it.” 
“Coulda fooled me.” He exhales loudly. “You wanna end up like your ma?” 
No, you don’t want to end up with a man like him. You keep that thought to yourself. You shake your head and take the box of the macaroni. You tear off the top as the water starts to boil. 
“So maybe you should take some advice from someone older and wiser. Do you know what your mama’s problem is?” He asks. 
You shake your head again. You dump the noodles into the water. You go to the drawer and open it to grab a wooden spatula. As you do, he shuts it on your fingers. You yelp as he keeps your hand trapped. You look up at him as he stands close. 
“She can’t hang onto a man. She’s too easy. No guy’s gonna take care of a fucking mess like her. And what good is she without a man lookin’ after her? Living in this hellhole with some deadbeat daughter--” 
“That’s...” you whimper and squirm as you try to free your fingers. “Ow, please--” 
“It is true,” he insists against your unspoken protest. “Whatcha think you’ll be doin’ in another few years? You’re gonna age out and those tips are gonna dry up like sand.” He taunts as he leans in, “and you’re only happiness will be at the bottom of a glass--” 
“Stop. Please,” you beg as the drawer crushes your knuckles. You can’t bear it anymore. You put your hand on his hard stomach and push. “Ow! It hurts--” 
He lets up on the drawer but only to grab your arm. He twists your wrist around and you bend with the angle of your arm. He has you facing the tile as he hyperextends your elbow. You whimper and wiggle your throbbing fingers. 
“See, a woman don’t just need a man to take care of her,” he puts his hand on your ass and brushes up your shorts. “He needs to discipline her.” He pulls his hand away and the drawer rolls open. “And I know your mama didn't do none of that.” 
He rests the spatula against your ass and you twitch, “sir, please, I wasn’t--” 
“Either you shut up and take it like a good girl or each noise means the next one’s harder,” he swings his arm back then forward. The wood strikes your ass in a radiating crack. Your legs tremble and you yowl. “Now what did I say?" 
He spanks you again with the spatula, this time on the other cheek. You grunt behind your teeth and reach back with your other arm. He raps your knuckles with the wood and you recoil. You bend your arm to your chest and he swats you again. Your ass burns from his cruel force. 
He does it again, and again, and again. You try not to make a sound but the whimpers fall out of you. Your arm strains from the angle and his unyielding grip, your ass pulsing in agony. The spatula thwaps down over and over until your eyes are streaming and all you can muster are hollow gasps. 
He lets you go and you crumple to the floor, holding yourself on your hands and knees. He whips the spatula down to it hits the tile and bounces. You wipe your face and look up at him. The air smells like fire. He sighs as his eyes drift to the stove, the water boiling over. 
“Fuck damnit, girl,” he tuts, “figure it the fuck out.” 
He shakes his head and marches out of the kitchen. You stare after him, breathless and battered. You can’t believe he just did that.  
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cdbabymp3 · 3 days
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part one ― telling young dad!hamzah you're pregnant
notes ; established relationship, reader is 20 & hamzah is 22, unplanned pregnancy, angst, tw // anxiety attack (pls be careful reading baes)
disclaimer ; i want to say real quick that being a young parent is in no way a bad thing. literally half of my family are/were young parents (#🇲🇽), so i've seen the beauty with it but also how quickly your life changes. it's terrifying and not always easy to accept at first, so i feel like it's important to reflect that in my writing. everyone's experience is different and everyone views motherhood differently ! pls remember this is an au and entirely fictional !!!
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you stare at the positive pregnancy test until your eyes started to burn. finally blinking back hot tears, you set it down atop the bathroom counter.
how could this happen?
you and hamzah were always extremely careful. it was almost a joke how on him you were about wearing a condom and how punctual you were about taking birth control. when you two went grocery shopping and there'd be a baby screaming and crying in your aisle, you always said a silent prayer that you didn't have to deal with that any time soon―or even maybe at all. you didn't dislike the idea of motherhood, however it always a topic you were quick to change. you never felt especially maternal, but it was deeper than that. it was your own self-doubt about being able to care for someone else. when your cousin let you hold her newborn baby, you froze up, worried you'd drop him or he'd start to wail. everyone around you thought you were overreacting, but you can't help it. how are you meant to care for something so small, something so fragile, when you can barely take care of yourself?
you're fully spiraling now, whole body trembling and buzzing as you slide down against the wall. you can't see straight, things keep zooming in and out. desperately trying to find stability, you white knuckle the bathtub, heaving shallow breaths. it feels like someone is trying to choke you out, but won't put you out of your misery. the mascara mixed with your salty tears stings your eyes and stains your flushed cheeks. you close your eyes, trying focus on slowing your breathing, but it's no use. it's like your heart is beating in your ears the way it pounds like a jackhammer, hot and clamorous―yet, you start to break out in a cold sweat.
"y/n? babe?" hamzah calls out from the bedroom, setting his car keys down on the dresser and walking over to the bathroom where the door is cracked open. he slowly enters trying to find you, eyes immediately flicking to where you sit by the tub. "oh my god, y/n!" he rushes down to you, picking up your trembling body and setting you on top of the toilet. he keeps both hands firmly on your shoulders, trying to anchor you.
"i-h-hamzah-i'm-i-" you stammer out, trying to reach for the test to show him, but he coos softly, wanting to keep you still so you don't topple over.
"what? what happened, baby? what's wrong?" he asks, trying to read your face as he notices your eyes are locked on what sits on the counter. he frowns, confused, looking over and seeing the test. his stomach drops, quickly reaching over and picking it up. he reads it over a couple times just to make sure his mind isn't playing tricks on him. he manages to rip his eyes away from it, looking at you. his heart breaks a little at the sight. you poor thing, you're absolutely petrified. he sees your bottom lip quiver, your beautiful eyes going red and spilling heavy tears. there's a beat of silence before he takes a deep breath and sets down the test.
"i'm so fucking sorry, hamzah." you whisper out shamefully, swallowing back a sob.
"hey, no....don't say that." he shakes his head, crouching down in front of you and caressing your thigh, "what do you have to be sorry for, huh? i'm the one who did this to you."
without even trying, you let out a weak giggle. even in times like this, he knew how to ease the tension just enough. he was just happy to see your smile for a moment.
"we're always so careful-how?-i-i don't even know-" trying to make sense of this, you ramble.
"i know...it's okay, it's okay...shh," he rubs your thigh some more, trying to keep you from getting worked up again, "baby, you're still shaking. you gotta breathe, okay? like this, watch me."
you nod, following his breathing in....and out....in....and out. it takes a couple tries, but steadily your heart rate starts to calm down. you're still fucking terrified, but more ready to speak coherently. "what do we do?" you ask him, wiping your cheek.
he takes another deep breath, thumb stroking your skin as he speaks, "well, that's up to you. it's your choice."
"yeah, but....we can't actually have baby right now." you tell him matter-of-factly, waiting for him to agree but to your surprise he stays quiet. "right?" you try him again, but second pass and he avoids your eyes. a small smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. "hamzah...."
he looks up at you with a little shrug to defend himself, "i think we could make it work."
"that's not funny, c'mon." you swear he's joking, but his earnest gaze doesn't falter. he's being dead serious. "no-oh my god?? hamzah, no....are you being serious?" you laugh at him and his ridiculous notion.
"i mean, a lot would change, yeah. but....i think we could do it." he speaks with confidence and you're honestly baffled, still on the fence.
"how?" you challenge him.
he sighs, thinking it over for a second, "i don't know, we'd figure it out."
you scoff, "this isn't something you just 'figure out'. this is being responsible for another human. you think you're ready for that? because i'm fucking not. i almost just suffocated merely finding out that i'm pregnant―the baby's not even here yet, hamzah. and i don't know the first thing about being a good mom. i don't know anything. what happens when they're not sleeping through the night? or when they're sick with a fever at 2 in the morning? or when they fall and get hurt? or when they're upset about something at school, but they won't tell me?.....how? how am i supposed to know what to do?" you're crying again, voice shaking as you raise your volume for him to understand, "how, hamzah?"
he stands silently, pulling you with up with him, enveloping your body in a hug as he rubs your back. you're hesitant to give in, but his skin on yours provides a comfort you can only get from him. you nestle into his broad chest, allowing yourself a moment's peace. you can hear his heart beating, the thrum elated and swift.
he speaks into your hair, "look, i know you're scared―i'm scared too, believe me. i don't want you to think i don't understand the weight of this because i do." taking your face into his palms, "and you're right, we're not gonna have all the answers all the time.....but, i know you....and i know us....if anyone can do this, it's us."
you tear up again, but this time it's not out of fear or hostility. he's right. the love you have for each other is there. he has faith in you and you never doubt his devotion. it's all there. as scary as it is, you're not alone. how could you ever think that you were? he's always been there. on your great days and your shittiest. through whatever life brings, he's there and will continue to be there. only now, he's there for you and the life you bring into this world. he says he knows you, but you know him too. and you know he means every word.
"okay....okay, let's do this, let's figure it out." you say readily, muffled against his sweatshirt.
he pulls back from the hug, gauging your expression to make sure you're 100% certain. you smile, nodding reassuringly. his face lights up, pulling you into the hug once more and whispering to himself against your head in disbelief, "our own little family."
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໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა taglist ; @nativegirltapes @etherealval @thatmartinkitten + lmk if u wanna be added !!!!
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kitkathatesu · 3 days
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𝙇𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙋𝙩. 2
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This is a little longer than the first part<3
𝙋𝘼𝙄𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂: Billy Hargrove, Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington x Fem!reader
𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂: ❗️SMUT❗️❕MDNI❕Use of drugs/alcohol, mean!Billy, dom!Billy, sub!reader, 3some without penetration (besides Billy of course), cucking, p in v, fingering (f receiving), degradation+praise, spanking, some overstim (f receiving), overall filth
𝙎𝙐𝙈𝙈𝘼𝙍𝙔: It seems as though you never learn your lesson, so Billy decides to invite Steve and Eddie over himself this time. Completely unannounced to you, they show up for what Billy referred to as a “get together.” But little did you know that Billy’s plans included far more than just a sack of green and a couple 6 packs to share with your “friends.”
☾ ✪ ༄ ✯ ༆ ✯ ༄ ✪ ☽
It’s about 4:00 in the afternoon, you’re lying on the couch with a magazine between your fingers. Soft rays of sunshine peaking through the blinds in Billy’s living room while Cherry Bomb plays through the radio perched on an end table across from you. A box fan sat on the floor a couple inches away, swirling around the thick summer heat and smell of beer that seems to always be sitting stale in the air.
It has been almost an hour since he’d left saying he had some “business” to take care of, which isn’t necessarily weird of him considering all of the shit he gets himself into. But you decide to brush it off flipping through the pages, skimming over an article about how men are naturally more jealous than women.
“Hah, sounds like someone I know.” You scoff. Rolling your body over the side of the couch to make your way into the kitchen. You go to reach for the landline on the wall, but you’re immediately met with arms wrapped tightly around you from behind. The smell of cigarettes engulfing you as a sloppy kiss is pressed to the side of your face. Making you scream loud enough for the whole town of Hawkins to hear.
“BILLY what the fuck?! I didn’t even hear you come in.”
You know there’s a grin plastered on his stupid face. So you turn to scold him, but he’s just staring at you. The emotion behind his eyes is scarce, but his body language is screaming frustration.
“I’ve got a surprise for you.” He mutters. A spark of excitement running through you but anxiety following not to far behind.
“Oh yeah? What kind of surprise huh? The sexy kind?” You smirk, wrapping your hand around the back of his neck. Coursing your fingertips through the bottom of his curls, gently pulling him in towards you for a kiss but he pulls back almost instantly. Causing you to scowl at him.
“Not so fast little girl. I’ve gotta get things going before I change my mind.”
“What do you mean? You’ve been gone for an hour, didn’t tell me where you were going-“
Billy chuckles. Cutting you off as he tips your chin up with his thumb and index finger. His gaze never leaving yours as he holds you there, your face melting into his touch.
You know he’s about to be a smartass.
“I don’t have to tell you where I’m going princess. As a matter’a fact, why don’t you give one of your friends a call? Seems like you’d rather talk to them than have fun with me anyway.”
“You’re such a baby”, you utter to yourself.
But you’ve gotta admit since last months escapade you have talked to them a lot more than you had before.. It’s like you’re connected more now than you ever were. Comfortable on a level you never knew you could reach.
You feel guilty in a sense too. Dirty that you’d let them see you in such a vulnerable state. And the fact that Billy was toying with you purposely for his own pleasure and using them as a prop to get himself off makes your stomach cave in on itself.
“Well for your information, I was about to before you scared the absolute shit out of me.” You spew with a sarcastic tone.
He just laughs and places one hand on his hip and the other on the bar next to the sink. Leaning his body weight against it.
“Is that so? Won’t you go ahead and do that then. Let’s see if they answer since you’re so sure they even wanna fucking talk to you.”
His eyes lit up with a bitter stare as a fist balls up at his side, his jaw clenching, probably dying to throw some more shit your way. Typical Billy.
Your first thought was to rip him a new one for the unexpected attitude, but you stay quiet. Trying not to crack a sarcastic smile as his voice drips with the exact thing you’d read about in that article just earlier. 𝙅𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙮.
“Oh Billy, you and me both know they’d 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 to.” You purr out to him, the words flowing out of your mouth with zero remorse.
But deep down you knew you’d be eating those words at some point today. His eyes like daggers as they seem to pierce right through you.
Billy finally breaks the silence between you. Lunging forward with his hands now tightly wrapped around your waist ripping a gasp from you. His fingernails digging into the skin there as a wicked grin plays across his lips.
“We all know why too.” He pauses, his tone much darker and cold.
“You’re a needy little whore. A set of holes begging to be used by anyone who’ll throw some cock your way.”
You stand there unmoving. Trying to look anywhere but his face as your body seethes with anger, every word bouncing off your skull like a punch to the face.
Billy’s demeanor begins to change. His smile softens and he loosens his hold as he tilts his head to the side, catching a glimpse of that anger you’re trying your damndest to hold in but can’t hide worth a shit.
“Come on doll, don’t get all worked up on me now. Y’know I’m just playing with you.”
“Playing or not, you can shove that surprise right up your ass Hargrove.”
Billy mocks you with a fake pout. A loud cackle echoing out into the room after your measly attempt to lash back at him.
“Well it’s a good goddamn thing your 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙚 will be on its way soon then huh?” He sneers, giving you a quick pat on your ass before leaning down to meet the shell of your ear.
“Ya’better cool off while you can sweetheart, you’re gonna need it.”
His words cause a chill to run down your spine. You squirm where you stand as he pulls back to face you, his features so pretty and lust like. It’s so fucking frustrating. You can’t stay mad at him. No matter how bad you’d like to smack that smirk right off of his face, the urge to ride it suppresses all others.
“Now I gotta go pick up a couple things alright? Might take me awhile, so uh.. Don’t wait up.” He winks at you, quickly making his way towards the back door where he’d snuck in earlier.
“But Billy- Wait a fucking minute, you just got back??” You yelp, rushing after him as he makes it halfway outside onto the patio.
“And? I said I’ll be back, so do me a favor and put some lipstick on those pretty lips of yours. Might take some of the ugly off of em.”
You roll your eyes at him as he walks around the side of the house, arms crossed over your stomach. A long sigh dragging out of your mouth as you stomp back into the kitchen. The sound of his Camaro roaring down the street making your brain rattle.
“Fucking asshole” you blurt out into the empty room.
He always has to have the last word, and what’s annoying is you let him. There’s never a day or night where you fully lash out at him. Even when he’s the biggest douche bag in the world. Is it because you love him? Well duh, but goddamn do you hate him sometimes too.
So you stand there, back against the wall facing the landline in front of you. The words you’d spat out earlier playing back through your mind.
“𝙊𝙝 𝘽𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙮, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄 𝙗𝙤𝙩𝙝 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮'𝙙 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙤." Because you know they would. They call you anytime they get the chance.
And that’s all it took for you to grab the phone and dial Eddie’s number. It rings and rings, the cord wrapped around your free hand while the other holds the speaker tightly to your ear.
𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂, 𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂, 𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂
(𝙒𝙚'𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙮, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙫𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙖𝙫𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚, 𝙩𝙧𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧)
You hang up. Confused and a bit nervous you ponder on the things Eddie usually has going on throughout the week but it’s Friday. After band practice he is usually free for the rest of the day, unless he has a customer or two looking to buy some flower. But even then if you call he makes time regardless of who’s around. So maybe something came up.
“Okay well, let’s try Steve. His shift at Scoops is well over by now.” You sigh, bringing the phone back up to your ear for the second time. Clutching it in your hand patiently waiting for his voice to pick up on the other end.
𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂, 𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂, 𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂
“𝙃𝙚𝙮, 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚. 𝙎𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙄 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡, 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣.”
(𝘼𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙚, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙚. 𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙨𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙮 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝙪𝙥 𝙤𝙧 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙤𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨)
𝘽𝙀𝙀𝙋//: “Hey Stevie, it’s me. Just wanted to see what you were up to today, hit me back when you can. I’ll talk to you later.”
You place the phone back on its jack. 10x more confused now and a little sad that neither of them answered when you know they’re hardly busy around this time. Maybe Billy was right, could you be annoying them with how much you’ve been calling? How long you talk. Are you being too clingy?? What’s the deal?
Your brain is going 1,000 miles an hour trying to pick through what could be wrong if anything. Hoping that whatever it is you’re not the problem and that it’s all in your head. But most of all that Billy isn’t right. Cause one thing for sure, his ego never fails to get in the way of his judgment. And if there’s one thing you can do is rub it in his face later.
☾ ✪ ༄ ✯ ༆ ✯ ༄ ✪ ☽
By the time you stopped worrying yourself half to death, you’d decided to put on a movie and kick back till Billy got home. Legs propped up on the arm of the couch, hands clutching a small bowl of popcorn. Watching intently as things start to get a little tense, fixated on the screen until you hear a loud knock at the door.
“What the fuck?” You ask yourself out loud but under your breath.
Your heart starting to pound in your chest because you know Billy would just barge on in. So who the fuck could this be?
You sit the popcorn down and slowly tippy toe towards the door, trying to get a good look at whoever this could be through the peep hole. But all you can make out is that it’s a man which causes a surge of adrenaline to wash over you.
“Who is it?!” You shout. Their voice is muffled but weirdly familiar.
“It’s me pretty girl, open up will ya? Kinda chilly out here and this flower isn’t going to smoke itself.” Eddie coos out to you, that deep seated giggle ringing in your ears as he stands outside the door with his hands in his pockets when you sling the door open to greet him.
“I- Oh my God hi!” You squeak out, a mousy shyness engulfing you as those doe eyes stare back into your own.
“I had no idea you were coming, I thought you’d be at band practice with the boys?”
“Eh, I got an hour or two of kicking ass in, might as well spend the rest of my evening with my favorite twerp.” He smiles brightly as you step aside to let him in, immediately shedding himself of his denim jacket. Not wasting another second standing, he throws himself onto the sofa. Motioning for you to sit down.
You anxiously take the seat next to him but you’re sure to keep a couple inches between you. Sucking in a sharp breath as you gather the courage to start a conversation.
“So, what made you decide to visit? I was sure you’d be busy.”
Eddie glances over at you tray already in hand with a joint in the making. Twisting it between his fingers, cocking an eyebrow at your question as he licks the top of the paper sealing it in. Holding it between his fingers.
“You telling me California didn’t tell you I was coming?” He chuckles, placing the joint between his lips. Lighting it and quickly taking a drag before handing it to you.
“…WHAT??”
You almost stop breathing when it hits you. Causing you to drop the joint in the floor, you chase after it with hurried hands hoping the cherry doesn’t burn the carpet.
“Billy invited you?.. Seriously? Come on, don’t fuck with me Ed boy.” You scoff. Nudging him with your shoulder.
“I’m not shitting you-“ Is all Eddie manages to choke out before another knock at the door startles you both.
“Now who the fuck is this?!” You jump up strutting your way back over to the door, swinging it open to reveal Steve standing there with a 12 pack of beer.
“Hey legs, how goes it? I hope you don’t mind, I brought some refreshments.” He grins, showing the carton of Budweiser off to you with a small shake. Causing the glass bottles to rattle against each other.
“I- Steve, what exactly are you doing here?” You ask. Your voice a bit shaky as you glance over to Eddie then back to the tall, lanky, bouncy haired boy standing in front of you. The one who seems to always be searching for something when he looks at you.
He grins to himself, pausing for a moment as he notices Eddie sprawled out on the couch behind you.
“Did I come at a bad time or what?” Steve asks, peaking over your shoulder waving to Eddie.
You quickly usher him in by his wrist closing the door behind you. Your brain scrambling to try and find an explanation behind this, you make your way into the living room. Plopping down on the sofa, letting out a long sigh as Steve takes the empty seat on the other side of you.
A lump forms in your throat as both boys now sit on either side of you. Their colognes clashing in your chest as you breathe them in, totally different but diffusing so perfectly.
“What’s got you so worked up pretty?” Steve asks with a hint of hesitation in his voice. Leaning his elbows into his knees as he tries to meet your eyes, Eddie doing the same on the opposite side of you but with a light graze of his fingertips across the top of your thigh.
“C’mon, no sense in trying to hide sweetheart. Can’t be getting shy on us now. Yeah?” Eddie’s warm smile gleams in your peripherals causing a rush of heat to creep onto your cheeks.
Your body reacting to them so much already that it’s making your stomach ache. Knotting itself up as Steve takes a beer from the carton and cracks it open, Eddie doing the same as they start to ramble back and forth behind you. Making you that much more nervous as a familiar rumble of a vehicle comes screeching up the road all at the same time.
You go still, part of you subconsciously hoping that it’s all in your head till you hear a door slam from outside.
Scurrying up off the sofa you grab the boys by their forearms, both of their weight working against you as you try to pull them up off of the cushions, their beer spilling out onto the floor in the midst of your panic. Knowing Billy will be walking through that door any second ready to swing on the first person he sees.
“It was good seeing you both. But y’all have GOT to go. Billy is going to fucking FREAK if he comes in here and sees you both without him even knowing-“
The front door flings open and smacks the wall beside it causing you to drop Eddie and Steve back onto the sofa. Your eyes growing wide as you quickly look over to see Billy standing across from you with a smirk plastered on his face. His tongue darting out to wet his lips.
Eddie and Steve seeming to have the same response as you, the whole room goes dead silent. Anxiety building as Billy continues to stare, after what feels like a lifetime you take a couple step towards him with your arms held out. Immediately consoling him as if you’d committed some sort of crime.
“Listen, before you get upset just listen-“
“Listen to what?” Billy belts out. That same crooked smile still hanging on his lips as he closes in on you, his leather covered arms draping around your waist.
Your back now turned to them, the uncertainty of what’s going to happen next causes your body to vibrate with a sea of emotions. You swallow the lump in your throat that’s formed again to sputter out a response.
“I- I had no idea they were coming. I thought you had some sort of business to take care of, so I just sat around and watched a movie. They showed up out of nowhere. Please don’t be ma-.” He cuts you off with a gentle caress to the your cheek. Causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion.
“Baby, I’m not mad. Hell not even a little bit.”
“But you- What? What do you mean?” You turn your head slightly to catch a glimpse of the boys, but your head is jerked back by your cheeks now being squished together in a pout.
“Come on, don’t be stupid.” Billy sneers pulling your face closer to his own. His breath coated in what smells like bourbon and the obvious cigarette, you can’t help but wonder what he’d really been up to tonight.
“I’m not being fucking stupid, I don’t know what’s going on.”
Your voice cracks in your throat as your lungs fill up to the brim with fire. Jaw tightening at the anticipation, trying not to explode in heap of anger and disarray as Billy stands there with that same smug expression.
“Are you going to explain what the fuck is happening?? Or are you going to stand there with that stupid look on your face.” You shout at him, the occasional rush of adrenaline zapping your insides as you try to hold yourself together.
His hand drops from your cheeks to your hand, his thumb gently gliding over your knuckles as he brings it up to his mouth pressing a gentle kiss there.
“Sweet, naive, little thing.” Billy taunts, guiding you against his chest with his hands now resting on your hips, breath hot against the side of your face. His lips closing in on the shell of your ear, you can’t help but bite your lip.
“Ah.. I thought for sure you woulda’ caught on by now. This is all for you.”
Your eyes widen, a shiver runs down your spine, and you quickly pull back from him. Turning to Steve and then to Eddie, searching their faces for any answer you could but their expressions were just as empty as your own.
“All for me?? What exactly do you mean by that? I- You know what? This is just too fucking much, I don’t understand..”
Steve speaks up as you stand there muttering to yourself. Trying his best to make things a little more comfortable for you before it gets anymore out of hand than it already has.
“Well actually, we were told- Or Ed’s was told that we were invited to come hang for a bit. Billy called me early this morning and don’t get me wrong I was surprised he even knew my number, but I guess I figured it was your idea.”
He runs a nervous hand through his hair as Eddie chimes in.
“See! That’s what I tried to choke out earlier when I’d first got here and rolled that spliff, but you were far from listening so.. I thought you were messing around.”
You pace back and forth. Hands planted on top of your head, heart pounding in your chest. Practically drowning in your own pool of apprehensions.
Billy still stands in front of you. An eyebrow cocked upwards, his tongue tracing the sides of his mouth. Your eyes meeting his amongst the chaos transpiring within you, and the look behind them scares you. They’re almost black, pupils blown out, eager to eat you up.
He looks like a man starved of all emotion other than some twisted up desire. And with every neuron firing against their will begging you not to let what you know to be true get the best of you, your body is pleading for you to invite it in.
“So-“ Billy clears his throat. Placing both hands on your shoulders, ultimately pulling you out of your daze as he turns you around to face the boys who are anxiously sitting on the sofa across from you. All you can do is stare at them.
“Since I’d assume you’ve all caught the gist of things by now, whatd’ya say we play a game?Really get this party started.”
“Sure, I like games.” Steve concurs.
“Eh I guess, but- Ow!” Eddie answered with a bit of hesitation till he felt the sting of Steve’s elbow digging into his rib cage.
“Fuck it, let’s do it.” He agreed, an awkward smirk poking at the corner of his mouth.
Billy grips his fingers into your shoulders giving them a rub before lowering his face down into the crease of your neck. Placing a couple sloppy kisses there, each one leaving the smell of whiskey and want behind.
Eddie chuckles nervously. Beer in hand, looking around at everyone in the room before taking a sip. Trying to tear through the thickening tension swirling around the room.
“So uh, what kind of game you got in mind?”
You stand still. Almost afraid to breathe as Billy’s hands begin trailing down your arms, his calloused fingers gripping into your skin ever so slightly. That almost predatory grin pricking at the corner of his lips as he finally answers.
“What’a bout truth or dare?”
You suck in a breath. Trying to prepare yourself for what this little game of his is leading up to. Your knees trembling at the thought. This time you know it’ll be worse, much much worse.
Steve chuckles to himself. Beer bottle clutched lazily in his hand with his back leaned against the couch. His brown eyes lightly draping down your body as you stand there with that doe in headlights look on your face stiff as a board in Billy’s arms.
“I won’t attest to that. M’pretty good at it myself, like taking risks.” Cockiness laced in his voice Eddie flashes a smirk. Billy’s jaw simultaneously clenches, catching onto the familiar challenge Steve’s brought between them before. 𝙔𝙤𝙪.
“Alright Harrington, since you’re so quick to suck your own dick let’s kick it up a notch yeah?”
Steve nods, tipping his head back finishing off his beer. Eddie staying quiet except for the shit eating grin plastered on his face exhuming just how amused he is with the way Steve has Billy questioning himself. His “authority”, his dominance. Like a couple dogs over a bitch in heat. Can’t say he don’t blame them.
“Same shit really. But anytime you’re dared to do something or answer a question and you fail to do so, you ditch a piece of clothing.”
You’re done for as Eddie and Steve look to each other sharing a sickening snicker, causing your whole body to feel like it’s caught fire and your belly to churn. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into? I mean why is he so fond of this idea out of nowhere? It doesn’t make sense.
“So I don’t even get a say so? Great, this is total bullsh- FUCK!” You grasp at your throat as Billy’s hand is now wrapped completely around it closing off your airway.
A dark chuckle rumbling in his chest as his breath fans against your neck, his face practically smashed to the side of your head. Holding you flush against him, his thumb and pointer finger dancing over your pulse points.
“What was that baby?” He says with a long inhale and exhale, a growl reverberating through your bones as he grazes his teeth against your earlobe. His grip tightening around your windpipe pushing a pathetic whimper out of your lungs.
“Awh, that’s right. You can’t breathe.” He moves you side to side roughly, your head swaying back and forth like a bobble head on a shelf.
Fuck- You’re already submitting. At least your body is with the heat between your legs spreading like wildfire, your pussy already clenching around nothing.
“B-Billy please.” You stutter between broken breaths, your hand desperately trying to break you free from his grasp but there’s no chance you’re slipping out of this one. Not without a mark or two that is.
His hand rips itself away from your throat and he peers at Steve then Eddie over your shoulder. Motioning them over with a nod.
“Wait- What?” Eddie scoffed. Steve stares at Billy bewildered before he nudges his elbow into the brunettes ribs once more. “Just get up dumb ass.”
Oh my God. No no no. “Wait a second!” You stammered, your legs wobbly and weak as both boys saunter over to you. Billy’s body still flush against yours from behind.
“Shhh baby. This is what you wanted right?” He drawled, your back arching into his chest as the air around you thickens and you feel like you could suffocate. Maybe you are, maybe you will.
Steve stands to your left and Eddie to your right. Their eyes glued to you like they’re starving to see more, ready to rip you to shreds. Billy revels in the way your body trembles against him, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip with anticipation as he slides his fingertips underneath your shirt. Grazing your navel.
“Truth or dare?” Billy chuckled.
“Truth-“ You gulped. Jaw tightening and chest heaving with each breath. “Is it true you’d let me fuck you in front of them?” You try to speak but a whine is pulled out of you as Billy’s hand dips into your underwear. Running his middle finger through your folds, collecting the slick that’s soaked your panties and is sticky against the back of his hand as he continues to tease you. “Thought so.” He divulged.
“Holy fuck..” Steve sighed, his mouth parting slightly as he watches your face contort with pleasure. Eddie giggles nervously with his head cocked to the side, studying the way your nipples glide against the thin fabric of your shirt with each movement. Mouth watering at the thought of them between his teeth.
“Yes.” You mewl, your head loling back hitting Billy’s chest with a thud. Your heavy eyes flutter shut as he drags his fingertips upwards rubbing slow circles into your clit. “You gonna let them watch? Get a real good look at how desperate you are for my cock?”
“Uh huh.” You purr. Mind hazy with lust as all the worries you had before melt away into nothing but mush behind your eyes as they roll back. “Oh fuck- Billy!”
“Fuck no.” He spits. Hissing through gritted teeth as he pulls his hand out of your panties. Your mouth opens to plead with him and your lips are immediately met by his fingers shoved between them.
The taste of you heavy on your tongue as he forces them into the back of your throat. Eliciting a gag from you. “You don’t get to even think about cumming unless I say so. Got that?” His face is stern but his pupils are blown so wide that you can barely see the baby blue behind them.
You nod in response. Eddie hums to himself, his chocolate brown eyes boring into you. A lust drunken smile creeps onto your face.
“Billy man.. I gotta tell ya, you’re fuckin’ lucky. Babe like that? Hard to come by.” Steve’s eyes widen and he almost chokes in embarrassment. “Come on Munson, don’t make it weird.” It’s fucking weird already. Might as well enjoy it.
“If ya haven’t noticed.. It’s already a bit freaky.” Eddie snickered, nose crinkling up with a shit eating grin. Steve rolled his eyes only to tilt his head to get a better look at you, your face flushed and pretty chest rising and falling rapidly with what he can only assume is building desperation.
“Y/N?” Steve asked with raised eyebrows, lips parted slightly. “Can.. I touch you?” Billy scoffed and before you could react to either of them Billy’s fist curls into the fabric of Steve’s sweater, dragging him to stumble directly in front of you with eyes so wide that you can see how long his lashes are tickling his eyebrows. “Who the fuck are you to ask her? Ain’t ya gonna ask me? I’m the reason you’re here, remember?” Billy barked through gritted teeth.
Steve placed his hands up with a chuckle and shaky breath, unable to move now as Billy stayed practically nose to nose with him. You’re now sandwiched between them, legs wobbly and heart pounding wildly at the closeness. “Hey.. Hey guys?” You asked meekly, both men towering over you with their eyes locked.
“Can I touch her?” Steve asked smugly, cocking his head when he spoke. Hands still held up high and Eddie frozen where he stands, eyebrows raised and a sweaty palm holding his mouth shut so that he doesn’t bust out laughing. “I don’t know Harrington, ya gonna be able to without cumming in your pants?”
You chuckle at that and they both stop and stare dead at you. Well fuck. “What the fuck are you laughing at?” Billy’s eyes squinted down at your expression, Steve scoffed and his dimples were prominent as he smiled smugly. “Think she thought that was funny.”
“Fuck you.” Billy spat at him, only to turn his attention back to you. “Ya want him to touch you?” He asked gruffly, his tongue prodding at the inside of his cheek waiting to see how you react. You swallow harshly and you look up at him through heavy lashes, glancing over at Steve who stood just inches away. “Yes.”
“Then it’s settled gentlemen. Let the man touch her for God’s sake.” Eddie contended, “Might as well get to it. Right? Ladies obviously dyin’ for something. Look at her face.” You shot Munson a glare between the two of them but your face softened when Steve’s fingers reached out and grasped your chin, titling your gaze to him.
“He’s right ya know, could tell how needy you were for us the first time this happened.” Billy rolled his eyes and snaked an arm around your waist, his bulge hard against the thin fabric of your pajama bottoms.
“Ain’t that a bitch huh?” He murmured hotly into your ear, nudging his nose along the shell of it with a growl. “I’m not the only one who can tell you’re desperate Y/N, should be ashamed of yourself really.” You couldn’t take much more of this back and forth bullshit. If this was happening, it was happening now.
You swayed your hips gently, Billy’s cock twitching at the friction when you spoke. “M’tired of waiting. Someone better do something or y’all can fuck each other for all I care.” They all snickered at that and your shorts were ripped down your thighs in a matter of seconds. Billy’s boot thudding against your ankle spreading your legs, Steve’s big hand still holding your face gently between thumb and forefinger. “Only one fucking you is me sweetheart, they’ll be lucky to get a handful of your tits let alone buried inside you.”
Your eyes widened when your cunt is exposed to the air around you, Billy’s fingers easily ripping through the lace of your panties. “Now be a good girl and let me hear ya beg for it”, Billy drawled. Your stomach coiling up into a knot when you felt the head of his cock poking at your entrance, your slick making it no challenge for him to slide in but he refrains.
“Billy- I.. I-“ You stutter and Steve pushes your lips into a pout, inching his face towards yours with a wicked smirk. “Nuh uh, look at me. Tell me how bad you wanna be stuffed full.” Oh, holy fuck. His words make you mewl and your back arch, the tip of Billy’s length barely slipping between your folds when you do so.
Billy’s hands grab your hips roughly to keep you upright, though it’s not like you’d fall with Steve practically caging you in. Forcing you to stare at him as your cunt drools for him, Eddie, and Billy all at the same time. It’s filthy. “Oh Steve!” You moan, brows pinching together and your mouth falling slack when Billy pushes all the way inside you. You don’t even notice Eddie is closer now, his eyes glued to where you and Billy are connected.
“Goddamn, she looks tight.” Eddie rasped, licking his lips like a man starved. He bent down and wrapped his ring clad fingers around your inner thigh, admiring the glistening sheen that’s coated your pussy as Billy thrusts in and out of you at a steady pace. “Best pussy I’ve ever had.” Billy groaned, his fingers digging hard into the plush of your love handles.
God you’re ruined. You’ll never recover from the rush of this, never be able to touch yourself to anything else at night. How could you when the pad of Eddie’s thumb now rubs soft circles into your clit, Billy’s balls deep inside you, and Steve holds your blissed out face in his hand while he etches this moment into his brain forever. His cock throbbing painfully in his jeans, the need to kiss you almost overbearing but he wanted to watch you writhe as much as Billy did.
After all, you’ve tortured him for years now. Never giving him a chance nor acknowledging his advances, though you’d always noticed them. Why should you get to have all the fun? Especially now. “What’sa matter pretty girl? Can’t talk?” Steve cooed, Eddie hummed in response as he traced over your clit agonizingly slow. Collecting your slick that’s seeping out of your pussy that’s stretched around Billy’s cock.
“Oh- Oh fuck, please please please.” You babbled, Billy chuckles darkly at the pathetic sounds that emanate out of your mouth with a sadistic smile. Overstimulation starting to settle in the pit of your stomach. Your cunt aching and clenching around him with each push, pull, and drag of the men’s hands on you. “You can talk, well that’s good. Not completely cock drunk yet, but you’re almost there, aren’t you baby?”
“Y-Yes, ah!” You hiss, a new sensation sending chills ripping up your spine when Billy’s hand comes down harshly against the plush of your ass. All rosy and red, flushed just like your cheeks as you keep your eyes on Steve. You can tell he wants you, wants to take Billy’s place or shove his cock down your throat with the way his lip curls up and his pupils are blown wide. “Fuckin’ slut, I can feel you clenching around me. Shit- Ah yeah, you gonna cum? Huh?”
Billy’s voice is gravelly and bellowing behind you, his hips now pistoning into your already sensitive slit as he bends over your back. His lips pressed to the shell of your ear, cock buried deeper than before hitting that sweet spot with each slap of your ass rippling back against him. “Yeah man, she’s gettin’ real fuckin’ wet down here. She’s leaking onto the floor.” Eddie almost salivating at the way your pussy takes a cock so well, swollen clit throbbing beneath his thumb. “Be a good girl yeah? Cum for me.”
Billy growled at that, his eyes darkening as he glared at Steve over your shoulder. “Shut up Harrington, only one she’ll be cumming for is me. On my cock, not yours.” He chuckled breathlessly, his voice bordering on a whine as he came closer and closer to the edge. And he revels in the way he can tell you’re getting closer too, but only he can feel your pretty cunt pulsing around him. He had to remind them that this would be the closest they’ll ever get to the real thing.
“I’m- M’gonna cuuuumm!” You squeal, every word emphasized by the almost painful orgasm that sends your vision into a haze. It doesn’t come in waves, it feels like it’s never going to stop. Your eyes roll back, mouth cocks open, and your pussy spasms uncontrollably along with your whole body. They were using you.
“That’s right bitch, fuck me back.” You didn’t even realize your hips were grinding his cock in and out of your soaked cunt, Eddie’s thumb replaced by his middle and ring finger milking out every last drop of slick that he could from you as you rode out your high. Steve never once letting go of your cheeks, keeping your fucked out face right in view so that he could cum to the thought of it later. “So fucking sexy like this Y/N, you should see yourself.” And if you could see yourself you’d realize just how nasty you are.
“Shit, baby just like that-“ Billy croned, his head tipping back with a drawn out groan. “Pussy’s gonna make me cum.” Your ears perk up at that and a wicked grin plays at your lips, wanting nothing more than to be filled full while Steve and Eddie withered away to nothing more than a bunch of gooners. “Cocks so good Billy- Want you to fuck me full.”
“Hear that boys?” Billy laughed boisterously, chest rising and falling rapidly with a fucked out smile on his face. “She wants my cum, she fuckin’ needs it. Ain’t that right doll?” His hips snapped up into you hard, slamming against your cervix making you jolt and cry out. “Ah, ahh yes! Fuck yes, please.”
“Here you go baby, nice and fuckin’ deep.” Billy hissed, his thrusts becoming sloppy and unrhythmic when he paints yours insides pearly white with his cum. Hots spurts spilling into you and seeping out around his cock, Eddie’s mouth dropped open in an O almost tempted to taste but he knows better. “Look at you, taking it so well.” Steve spat sickeningly sweet, the smell of booze on his breath making you fawn as you watched hunger burn behind those lovestruck eyes.
But you’re knocked smooth out of your hazy little world and brought back when Billy pulls out and leaves a mixture of your cum and his dripping on the floor beneath you. Eddie pushing himself up off of his knees and Steve stepping away about an inch or two, their arms crossed over their stomachs and cocks hard and on display in their jeans. Billy wipes himself clean with the bottom of his shirt, typical Billy and doesn’t say much else. Just finds the nearest lighter and pulls a cigarette out of a box of Marlboro’s, letting it hang loosely from his lips as he lit it and took a long drag.
“Hope you boys got your fill, I know I did.”
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