#my landlord is still making me pay rent
buddeysystem · 2 years ago
How have you been? I always like seeing you around. I was happy to see you posted. 😊
hello!!!! i have been okay. my classes all got moved online and i lost both of my jobs due to the pandemic but i am alive and relatively healthy and that's all i can hope for right now
thank you for this message i really needed it :')
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bitchellaneous · 2 months ago
Thinking about.......... using mind powers to be mean to landlords 🧠🤯🤕🏠❌💛💚💛💚💛
#for a few months our newest property manager or landlord or whatever did full inspections like every two months#with a whole checklist being like ''these things need to be in working order!!'' even though they were ALREADY BROKEN WHEN WE MOVED HERE#and we've sent multiple requests for them to be fixed and they won't do it. but it's our responsibility somehow#also these are low income apartments. your income has to be a certain amount below the poverty line to live here#people cannot be taking time off of work every 2-3 months to meticulously prep everything for inspections#one time there was some kind of a mix up and they thought my mother didn't pay the rent when she did#and they put a 3 day eviction notice on our door that same day#thankfully that kind sorted out so we're not homeless but um ???#they're doing fire alarm inspections tomorrow which stresses me out but i recognize is necessary#but it's got me thinking about everything and how irritated i am by this landlord. god#also thid isn't her fault but my mother gets a lot worse when she's even more stressed thsn usual#so on top of all the inheritent blrgghness of the situation i have to also deal with my mom being almost constantly angry and guilt trippy#ofc im grateful i have somewhere my family can afford to live atm#and besides the broken stuff it's still a newer complex so its like the nicest place we've ever lived!!#like it's really nice. its not totally covered in mold and there's an actual a/c system which has been a huge relief. esp in winter#AND! two bathrooms??? wtf (affectionate)???#like just to be clear as far as the quality of the apartment i have zero to complain about. im very fortunate#and my mom's fiance has more money than us and bought us like... a really nice tv and laptops which is insane#and also kind of makes me feel really guilty but. they are very nice to have#i just think i'd feel more secure if:#1) I didn't know my landlord sent out eviction notices immediately after a delay in payment#2) we weren't scared of saving or making more money in case we no longer qualify and get kicked out#in which case we'd definitely get kicked out because there's such a serious shortage of affordable housing here#and the best case scenario is that we'd wind up on a waiting list for months#3) my mother was emotionally/psychologically stable and i didn't feel threatened by her even when she's in a good mood#also the neighbors are always yelling and fighting and slamming doors which is a ptsd trigger for me and my mom. which just kinda sucks#sorry im having a moment#ask to tag#🍭.txt
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theantiproduct · 9 months ago
#ok SO we went to see the apartment today and it's in a worse condition than i thought it was#like ceiling crumbling and leaks everywhere worse#my mum immediately said she doesn't want me living there which i get there's a lot to fix the previous tenant tore the place down#I'm conflicted cause its absolutely in terrible condition BUT i really want to move man#the electricity is wrecked like there's so much work to be done and even the neighbourhood is kind of a mess#which makes sense since the city is tearing down buildings atm and no sane person would choose to live there? idk#the mail is literally in a pile by the door you gotta sort it and find yours and the trash is overflowing#someone hangs their laundry by the trash cans??#its just not what i saw a few months ago#I'm so disappointed and i feel like if i won't move there I'll be disappointing my friends and my dad#idk what to do i asked them for another day to think about it ugh#i already bought fucking everything im such an idiot for that#and i really don't wanna deal with landlords#but idk if I'll feel safe there even like it looks like a war zone but idk i feel like my mums reaction really affected me#and i do trust her judgement and tbh its not worth the rent i would be paying my parents#like i could probably find a much nicer place for the same rent#so my head is in shambles im trying to stay in a good headspace and not get sucked in to the disappointment shit#i dont wanna deal with mold and electricity shit but i also dont wanna deal with landlords so#plus my friend was thinking about moving in too and I'm sure if she saw the place she wouldn't want to#but i still feel like I'll be disappointing her too#and my other friend lives a block away we were excited to be neighbours yk#ill figue it out#just need some time to think#wwyd?#bigger apartment in a shit location and conditioning but no landlord or smaller apartment but in better location and condition#i really wanted the extra space tbh#need to have a think#personal
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demerzelolivaw · 2 months ago
The cycle of thinking about the prospect of having to balance two jobs and then feeling guilty for considering quitting the one that is desperately trying to get employees in for the summer and THEN remembering that the new job might not even be as many hours as you'd need so you can't quit the other one yet and then getting frustrated by the idea of having to balance two jobs and then
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katsukislove · 8 months ago
i may have a tendon tear i want to fucking scream 🗿
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maaciube · a year ago
I’m getting bitchy again and I don’t want to bitch to the people in my life so I’ll do it on here: ahem*
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thenixkat · 2 years ago
I need to go to walmart and pick up pads (i have no fucking idea if I’m menstruating or not i keep fucking bleeding for weeks on end and i don’t have money to see a doctor), milk, cereal, bread and eggs b/c I’m just kinda out and with more morning shifts i need breakfast stuff
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toebeens · a month ago
I reached out to a friend for help but this is a major emergency. Re: my last post, I’ve been in the hospital with bilateral pneumonia since Tuesday and have no family to turn to for help with this. I sent my friend:
“Hey I’m so sorry but this is my life and having an emergency and I don’t think youre going to be able to help but I don’t know what to do or where to turn and I’m about to have a breakdown. They’re sending me home with a breathing device I have to pick up, breathing treatments and I have to take more injectable blood thinners. Everything is like $610. I have $200 and I don’t expect you to be able to help in it’s entirety and I already spoke to my landlord and she’s giving me another 6 days for rent.
Is there ANY WAY I could borrow ANYTHING towards the $360 I’m short and pay you back the SECOND I’ve raised enough? I would continue to post and anything I raise would go right back to you even before rent I don’t want to make you broke of course I just don’t know what to do or where to turn, and am completely panicking. And I get paid Wednesday and it’s only half a check from days I missed but I’ll still pay you back by then in its entirety if it’s possible! I’m truly so sorry to bother!”
If there’s anyway I can get help with this, my PayPal is http://paypal.me/jpd05 and is preferred but I also have Zelle, Chime, and KoFi. I should be leaving here in about 2 and a half hours. If there’s anyway I could get any help please my parents died and I don’t have anyone else to turn or I wouldn’t be begging like this it’s so hard. Thank you for time and reblogs of course!
I only have a few hours to somehow raise this and am terrified. (Apr 2, 11:38am est)
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watchmegetobsessed · a month ago
A/N: i cant believe its finally done! this fic was in the making for way too long and im not entirely satisfied with it but oh well! its kind of my celebration fic for reaching 10k followers, which is just truly insane, i still can't believe it! thank you so much for all the support!!
PAIRING: CEO!Harry X Reader
WARNING: sexual content
SUMMARY: An unusually nice looking man wanders into the bar where you work at and an unexpected friendship forms along with a deal, but how long can it last when you start to fall for the man that's out of your league?
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“How is tonight’s crowd?” Chantel asks when you stomp to the back to put on another shirt because you once again spilled beer on yourself. She is already dressed in her pink outfit, the high heels she is wearing look awfully painful and you have no idea how she can dance in them. She’s got her usual blonde wig on, going for the full Barbie look and men just eat it up all the time. Normally, she is not the type of person you’d ever see yourself befriending, but working at the bar for two months now you got to know some great girls, all of them struggling just like you. The bar pays well, the wage is generous and everyone gets to keep their tip. The owner is a decent guy, he wants to keep his staff satisfied and motivated to work so he is not trying to rip young women off who want to make money.
“We have two bachelor party groups, some weirdos in the back, but Lance has his eyes on them. Nothing extreme,” you tell her with a smile and reaching up you fix some lipstick she smudged onto her chin.
“Thanks babe,” she smiles before making her way out to the stage, ready to dance around her pole for the next hour.
You get to the changing room and opening your little locker you pray to find something you can change into. You’re definitely not in the mood to smell like beer all night and have your shirt stick to your chest until it dries.
Going through everything you have in there, deodorant, some snacks, an empty water bottle and a pair of old Converse, you only find a tiny crop top that could serve as your change. It’s still better than the beer shirt so you decide to put it on. It has your cleavage very much on display and your jeans are not high-wasted enough to reach the hem of the top so you’re showing some of your stomach as well. If you ditched the pants you could easily be one of the dancers in this outfit, you think to yourself as you shut the locker and head back out.
Your landlord raised your rent a few months ago and you had to quit your part-time job on campus and find something that pays better. As a student finishing your masters, you didn’t have many choices, you still have some classes so a full time job wasn’t really an option. That’s when the bar came into the picture. It pays more than your previous job, just enough that you can pay your rent and make it to the next paycheck and with the tips you can even afford to see a movie or have drinks with your friends once in a while. It’s all you want and need right now.
At first you were nervous to work at a bar that’s almost like a strip club. It’s not called that because the girls don’t get undressed, they just dance on the stage. But with time you got used to it and now not many things can faze you.
“Table two,” Roland tells you when you approach the bar and pushes your tray closer to you, full of drinks.
“Thanks,” you sigh, grabbing the tray and making your way to the table.
Chantel is already up on her little stage in the left corner, one of the bachelor groups ogling her like she was just a piece of meat. You walk past one of the weirdos as you reach table two, setting the drinks down to the guys.
“Thank you beautiful,” one of them winks at you, but not in the creepy way so you flash him a smile and ask if they want anything else. They say they are fine so you turn around and head back to the bar.
The weirdo is eyeing you now, you can feel his gaze burning down your body, you even catch him staring at your boobs, but you decide to ignore it. He is not bothering you or trying to touch you, so it’s all good.
About thirty minutes later you’re helping Roland out behind the bar, stacking clean glasses when you see an exceptionally good-looking guy walk in. He seems confident, but a bit weirded out from the place, it’s obvious this is his first time at a bar like this. He looks nice and clean and to anyone he would appear to be just some hardworking guy making a bit more than the average, but he can’t fool you.
You spot his Gucci suit from across the room right away and you’d bet all of your tip that his crispy white shirt is designer as well. The rings on his fingers are chunky and probably more expensive than they look, you are guessing he is in a quite high position in whatever business he is working at. Maybe even the highest.
He sits down to a table at the side in your section and you head his way right away. He is handsome, the kind of guy who surely doesn’t have any trouble wrapping a woman around his finger, he looks around thirty, his eyebrows etched together slightly as his eyes roam around the place.
“Hello, I’m Y/N, what can I get you tonight?” you ask, smiling at him just like you do every time you welcome a new customer, but this smile feels a tiny bit more honest than your usual ones.
His eyes flicker up to meet yours and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest. This man is so beautiful, you’ve never seen anyone like him before.
“Hello, Y/N,” he says, his voice like sweet, golden honey. “What do you recommend?”
Clearing your throat you square your shoulders and look around, as if you were checking if someone can see how attracted you are to this man. But as always, everyone is minding their own business.
“To you? I would say scotch.”
“To me? Is that a special offer?”
“You just look like the kind of man that appreciates a good scotch and we have a nice bottle I don’t recommend to the usual crowd.”
It’s your odd way of flirting and you’re not entirely sure if he gets it or not. When he smiles at you, your knees wobble at the sight of his dimples. You’re gone for him.
“Then I’ll take your word,” he nods shortly.
“Anything else I can get you?”
“No, just the scotch for now, thank you.”
“I’ll be right back.”
On your way back to the bar you can feel his gaze burning a hole into your back, but when you’re behind the bar making his drink, you see him looking down at his phone. It doesn’t seem like he is at all interested in the dancers, you don’t even know what he is doing at a place like this. The bar is not too bad, but it’s definitely not fancy enough for a guy like him.
“There you go,” you smile as you return to his table with his drink.
“Thank you,” he nods with a small smile and though you want to stay and talk to him some more, you need to get back to your work.
He stays for a long time. Whenever his glass empties out, he asks for another and it goes like this until he finishes three of them. From then he only asks for water. Hours pass by and he just sits there, occasionally busies himself with his phone or he just simply watches the girls dancing, but not in a creepy, disturbing way, more like as if he was trying to figure them out beyond the stage.
The bachelor parties soon leave and some usuals appear clockwise, taking their usual spots as the night carries on. You’re cleaning off one of the tables the last bachelor party left behind when you feel someone lingering behind you. You don’t have to turn around to know it’s the creep that’s been staring at you all night.
“How much for a round with you?” you hear the raspy voice and you place the tray full of empty glasses and beer bottles back to the table as you turn around with an unamused look on your face.
“Get the fuck away from me,” you simply tell him, but it seems like it just riles him up even more.
“So you’re a feisty one, huh? Why don’t you—“
Before he could get a hand on you, a tall figure shows up behind him and pulls him back with a firm hold on his shoulder. To your biggest surprise it’s not Lance, but the guy in the Gucci suit.
“Leave now before you get yourself into trouble,” your savior tells the creep and the message is simple but his voice carries so much strength that anyone would be stupid to go against him and test him.
The creep mumbles something under his breath before turning around and walking out of the club. That’s when you see that Lance is just now returning to his usual spot, he must have been in the bathroom so you were lucky Mr. Gucci came to your rescue. Not that you weren’t ready to punch the guy in the face, but it’s nice that you didn’t have to make any effort.
“Thank you,” you smile at him and he just nods shortly.
“Saw him eyeing you all night, knew it wouldn’t end well.”
“Yeah, I was hoping he would just stick to the staring, but I was wrong.” You look in the direction of the seat the creep was sitting all night and you realize he didn’t pay for his drinks so now you’ll have to do it from your tips. “Fuck,” you growl under your breath.
“What?” the man asks.
“It’s just that he didn’t pay for his drinks. I guess no tips for me tonight,” you sigh and grab the tray from the table again and head back to the bar before shooting the man one last smile.
He stays for a little longer, but asks for his check soon. He is gone before you could have another word with him, but when you grab the money from the table your eyes widen.
He didn’t only pay for his drinks, he also left enough to cover the creep’s bill and the fattest tip you’ve gotten probably forever.
Days go by, even a whole week and you start to forget about your prince in shining armor, but then you’re working Friday night and about one hour into your shift a familiar, tall, well-dressed figure walks in. You’re behind the bar for the night so if he sits down to one of the tables you won’t be serving him like last night. But as if he could sense your yearning to have him at the bar, he walks up to it and takes a stool at the end of the row.
“So you’re back, huh?” you smile at him as you walk over to where he is sitting. He flashes you a sweet, charming smile and your knees go weak at the sight of him.
“I was nearby and thought of having a good scotch.”
It’s a blatant lie, you both know. He might have been nearby, but he definitely didn’t come here for the scotch, it’s the best you have but not quite the quality he is probably used to.
“That would be a first, the scotch bringing someone in rather than the girls,” you smirk, as you grab a glass and pour him his first drink.
“Girls? I barely even noticed them!” he chuckles, just as two dancers walk past him, wearing barely anything. It’s comical, how much he does not belong here.
With him sitting at the bar you get to talk to him more than last time. Whenever you have the chance you’re lingering around the end of the bar so you could keep the conversation up. It seems like he wants to know more about you and for every bit you share he offers something from him back.
That’s how you find out that his name is Harry, he is leading his own company he started almost a decade ago and that last time he wandered into the bar because the woman he was seeing broke up with him saying that he is not capable of having a normal, healthy relationship.
“But did she go into details?” you ask, as you’re fixing up an order of three gin tonics.
“She basically said that I’m boring and she would go insane next to me if she stayed,” he sighs, staring into his own drink.
That sounds like utter bullshit. Harry sounds like an exceptionally smart man with an intellectual you don’t find often. If she couldn’t appreciate him, she was probably way too stupid for him.
“If you want the opinion of a bartender slash waitress, she was just probably intimidated by your big brain,” you wink at him before giving out the tray to the waitress who got the order.
“And what about you?” he asks with a soft smile.
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t seem to mind the higher conversation and you appear to be pretty smart yourself.”
“I hope so, I’m finishing up my master’s degree, I would hate it if I found out just now that I’m stupid as a rock,” you chuckle, wiping the counter off with a rug.
“What are you studying?”
“Biology. I want to become a microbiologist.”
“Wow, that sounds very interesting,” he says and probably for the first time, you feel like he truly meant it. Most people don’t quite understand why you want to watch microorganisms all day, but to you, it’s a fascinating world you don’t see with your bare eyes, but it’s still everywhere around you.
The conversation between you and Harry flows so easily throughout the night, you barely notice how long he’s been sitting at the bar. The fun however ends when he realizes it himself as well and decides it’s time to leave.
He leaves when you’re dealing with a problematic customer, leaving an enormous tip again on his bill and you only catch his tall figure walking out of the club.
You don’t think you’d see him anytime soon, or ever for that matters, but it’s a complete shock when he walks in the next day. You don’t question his return, just happily accept the extra time you get with him.
But it happens over and over again. Harry keeps showing up at the bar and some of the dancers tell you he dropped by a few times when you weren’t working and asked if you’d be coming in. You’re starting to grow a ridiculous crush on the man every time you see him walk into the bar and look for you, but you just can’t help it. You’re looking forward to talk to him, it’s so easy, feels like you’ve known each other for a long time.
“I have… news for you,” he shares one evening when he barely just arrived.
“News?” you chuckle. “Weren’t you suppose to say if it was bad or good?”
“I don’t know how you’ll see it so it’s just news,” he adds with a charming smirk that sweeps you off your feet every time. This man probably doesn’t even realize how hard you’re crushing on him. “I was asked to hold a presentation for a business class at your school next week.”
“Oh! That’s great news! So you’re not only a businessman but also a professor now?” you tease him.
“Just for this one time,” he adds with a shy smile. “Do you… want to come and see me?”
His invitation catches you by surprise, but it warms your chest to know he is thinking about you.
“You want me there?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t,” he grins at you and it takes everything in you not to climb over the bar and kiss him stupid.
“When is it?”
“Wednesday, ten am.”
Wednesday is the only day you don’t have any classes before twelve and you usually use it to the fullest and sleep as much as possible so you can make it till the end of the week, but this time you choose Harry.
“Alright, just let me know which building and room,” you smile back at him and see his eyes light up like a Christmas tree.
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As much as you’ve been waiting for Wednesday to come, the day starts off the worst way possible. Your landlord calls at seven in the morning, which is already rude enough, but whatever, and he presents you the raise in your rent he’ll be implementing from the next month.
You want to argue with him, tell him you’re not paying even more, but you don’t have much of a choice. When you were in desperate need for a place, you were foolish enough to sign the worst contract to ever exist just to get your current apartment and it allows your landlord to change the rent basically whenever he pleases.
You’re a hot mess by the time you get to the campus, barely even paying attention to anything else than the thought that how you’re going to pay for your rent next month. It even occurs to you that maybe you should look for a new place, but it’s impossible to find the right one in just one month. Maybe if you didn’t have school and work, but that’s not the case.
You make it to the room just minutes before the start and you spot Harry by a man at the door, it must be the professor, but as soon as Harry sees you, he pays no attention to what the man is saying.
“Hey, you made it!” he beams when you reach them.
“Yeah, sorry, I had a wild morning,” you breathe out.
“Professor Byers, this is a friend of mine, Y/N, I hope it’s alright if she joins your students for my presentation.”
“Of course! Take a seat, Miss,” the professor smiles at you warmly as the three of you walk inside.
You spot an empty seat at the front of the room so you take it as the students notice Harry walking in behind you and the whispering starts almost instantly. The girls take notice of the hot presenter and all of a sudden, they are happy they chose to attend today’s class. It seems like Harry himself doesn’t realize what kind of effect he is having on young girls and it just makes him even more desirable.
“Good morning everyone!” the professor starts speaking on the podium. “As I mentioned it previously, today’s lecture is extraordinary, we have Mr. Harry Styles here to talk to you about the challenges of keeping up with the fast growth of a startup. Mr. Styles started his company a decade ago, the then startup is now, maintaining the IT systems of some of the biggest companies in the city.”
You know what Harry does. He has told you about his business, but it’s strange to see him as the businessman that he is. To you, he is the nice guy you talk to at the bar.
As Harry takes the professor’s place on the podium and starts his presentation, walking the class through the history of his company, realization hits you just how serious this man is. Why does he keep coming back to you to the bar? What could a man like him want from a girl like you?
It’s no surprise questions are flowing at the end of the presentation, the girls are basically fighting for Harry’s attention, all while he stays completely professional and focuses on the job he is doing. When the class ends, he walks up to you first thing.
“So, how bad was I?” he asks as you stand from your seat.
“Bad? You obviously don’t realize how good you’re at public speaking,” you chuckle.
“Are you in a hurry? I thought that maybe… we could get a coffee or something?” he suggests.
“I have about an hour before my first class, so I’m in.”
To spare time, you choose the café that’s right next to the campus. It feels a bit odd to spend time with Harry outside the bar, but it’s also refreshing. The morning rush has already died down so you easily get a table once you have your coffees. The conversation flows smoothly again, but your head is not completely in it this time. You keep circling back to your rent crisis and how you’ll financially recover.
“Y/N, everything alright? You seem a bit worried,” Harry asks and it’s nice to know he is noticing the change in you, but you wouldn’t want to load out your problems on him.
“It’s just some bullshit I have to deal with, don’t worry about it,” you shake your head in dismiss.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Talking won’t solve it, so…” you sigh, taking a sip from your coffee.
“Maybe I could help you? At least tell me what it is,” he pleads and you’re hesitant, but at last decide to tell him. Maybe sharing it will ease the worry a bit.
“It’s just that I have a very sucky contract with my landlord about my apartment and it allows him to raise the rent however he pleases. He decided to issue a raise for next month and I’m not sure how I’m gonna pay it.”
“I’m not a lawyer, but I don’t think he can do such thing,” Harry says with furrowed eyebrows.
“Unfortunately, he can. It’s my fault, I signed it because I was desperate to find a place to stay, so now I’m paying the price. Whatever, I will figure something out. Might pick up more shifts at the bar, though I’m not sure how I will fit it into my schedule,” you sigh.
Harry looks concerned, but he doesn’t try to get into your business, most likely he thinks it’s not his problem and it’s one hundred percent true.
The two of you finish your coffee and then it’s time for you to head to class and for Harry to go back to the office. It was nice meeting Harry outside of the bar, but it made you realize how much you want to spend more time with him when it probably doesn’t mean as much to him.
Later that night you’re working at the bar for a half shift, hoping to get your mind off of your financial situation just for at least a few hours and you’re also planning to talk to your boss about possibly picking up more shifts in the future.
Harry walks in and just like always, he doesn’t even bat an eye at the dancers, just walks straight up to you at the bar.
“Hey, missed me already?” you joke, placing a bunch of beers to your tray.
“I want to help you,” he starts without saying hello.
“Um, what are you talking about?” you chuckle, grabbing the tray and heading to your table as Harry follows you.
“I’ll pay for your rent,” he simply states and you almost drop the beers.
“Harry, are you out of your mind?” you chuckle. He steps back as you reach your table and place the drinks down in front of the men, but then sticks to your side again as you head back to the bar.
“I’m serious, Y/N. You’re struggling and I can help you, so why wouldn’t I?”
“You can’t just pay for my rent. It’s my issue, I’ll figure it out myself, okay? I appreciate the thought, but you don’t have to worry about it.”
“But I can’t just let you struggle when I have the money you need. I make more than what I could ever spend, I want to use it to help you!”
“Harry,” you sigh as you reach the bar. “I can’t just take your money. That’s not how things work.”
“Things work the way we want them to. Why wouldn’t you just accept my help? You’d rather overwork yourself and barely make enough to pay your rent? What’s the use of that when I can easily just solve this problem for you?”
“And what, you just want to hand me the money like it’s a piece of candy?” you ask in disbelief.
“Well, I was thinking about transferring it to you, but whatever works best for you,” he simply answers and you’re starting to feel it’s just a joke, he is tricking you.
“I will not just take your money for nothing, Harry,” you shake your head chuckling.
“Okay, then… we can make a deal, you can do something for me too.”
“Like what?”
He stares back at you for several minutes before answering the question finally.
“Spend time with me.”
“In exchange for the money, spend time with me. That’s what I’m asking for.” It’s obvious he is nervous about the proposal and there’s no doubt in you he is meaning it in the purest way possible. He is not trying to take advantage of you. Before you could answer, he speaks up again.
“I love spending time with you. I love out conversations and I would love it if they could happen outside of this bar as well,” he chuckles softly. “I’m… I’m quite lonely when I’m not working. If you truly want to do something for me for the money, then just… spend some time with me. We could have dinner, or just watch a movie, anything you want to.”
The difference between the Harry you saw at his presentation and the one standing in front of you right now is wild. He looked so confident just earlier today and now he is like a nervous little boy, asking you to spend time with him. There’s no way you can say no to him.
“You can’t pay my whole rent,” you tell him. “Only the raise my landlord just added.”
Harry opens his mouth to protest, but you give him a look that changes his mind.
“Alright. Whatever you want.”
You just nod, in complete disbelief what kind of deal you just made.
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Arriving to Harry’s apartment building is another shocking realization about just how successful he is. Like when you watched him present in that class, it’s such a big change to the version you’re used to in the bar.
It’s been two days since you made the deal with him and you wanted to cancel it several times already, but then you did the math and realized you’d never be able to pay your rent without his help.
Tonight you’re having dinner with him and he asked you to bring some of your favorite books with yourself. You wonder what those will be needed for as you head up with the elevator in the luxurious looking building. You’re wearing a simple sweater with jeans and now you’re questioning whether you should have dressed nicer or it would have been too much. But then you finally reach his door and it flies open just moments after you knock on it and you finally see him, wearing jeans and a simple shirt with a kitchen towel over his shoulder and you’re glad you didn’t overdress.
“Hey, come on in,” he smiles, stepping aside so you can walk inside.
“Hi,” you smile back before your eyes wander around the place.
It’s most likely at least five times bigger than your home, modern and stylish, but not the clean type, that can hardly feel homey. There are colors, paintings and pictures on the walls, décor and even flowers on a lot of surfaces as you look around. It suits him in a way you weren’t expecting.
A delicious smell wraps around you, coming from the kitchen and you spot the pan on the stove and the aftermath of the preparations for the food.
“I’m making some veggies with homemade fries and some dips,” he tells you, throwing a nervous look towards the kitchen. “I hope you’ll like it.”
“I’m sure I will. Can I help with something?”
“Maybe just setting the table,” he suggests and in a way you’re glad you can do something and be useful instead of just watching him work. Makes you feel more equal and comfortable.
You make some small talk as he finishes up the food and you set his massive dining table for just the two of you, and though you always enjoy spending time with him, you can’t help but feel a bit weird knowing you’re getting paid for being here.
“Are you alright?” Harry asks, when you finally dig into the food that turned out amazing.
“Yeah, I’m just… not quite sure how to handle this situation yet,” you admit truthfully.
Harr puts his fork down and the way he looks at you brings you so much peace and comfort, his eyes have the talent to speak to your nerves without words.
“Don’t think too much about it. We’re just spending time together because we enjoy each other’s company. And I help you out with your rent, because… because that’s what friends do and… we’re friends, right?”
“I guess we are,” you smile shyly. “Though I don’t tend to befriend customers from the bar,” you add chuckling.
“I’m glad you made an exception for me,” he smiles and somehow, as if he worked magic on you, he managed to ease your nerves.
The rest of the dinner goes by nice and comfortably, slowly you let go of every barrier and just enjoy Harry’s company, which is essentially an easy task. He is an easy person to like, even adorn. You drink up every word that rolls off his tongue and you feel so heard whenever you’re talking, he has the ability to make you feel like you’re the center of the universe when he looks at you, and it’s starting to sink deep into your heart.
“So, what about the books?” you ask when dinner is long over and the two of you are enjoying some wine on his comfortable couch. A shy smile appears on his face as he stands up and disappears without a word. When he returns, he is carrying some books, he lays them out on the coffee table and you curiously eye the titles.
“Honestly, you’re the only person I know who loves reading as much as I do. I could never talk about books with anyone before and… I thought we could exchange our favorites so we could talk about them later.”
For a moment you feel like your heart can’t take it. This is the purest interaction you’ve ever had with anyone, let alone a man. In this moment, as you stare back at him, you feel yourself falling for him.
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Slowly, you fall into a routine with Harry. Monday noons are for school. Then you pick up an early shift at the bar and Harry picks you up at eight and you have dinner together. It’s been a challenge to find the best fries in the city, so you’re always trying out a new place.
On Tuesdays you start in the library, working on your thesis, then classes and then Harry drives you home from class and most of the time you end up on your couch, just reading in silence but also in the comfort of each other’s company. Wednesday is when you sleep a little late, then you go to class and work in the night. Harry sometimes picks you up, but when he can’t he sends a car for you. He doesn’t let you go home alone so late at night, even though you tried to tell him that’s how it’s been for a long time.
Thrursdays, you start in the library again and then usually have a late lunch with Harry somewhere near his office. At first you felt quite out of place when you were waiting for him at the lobby, but now you just look forward to see him walk out of one of the elevators in his fitted suits and a bright smile on his face.
On Fridays you start in school and then work a long shift at the bar. Harry always arrives around ten and sits at either the bar if that’s where you’re stationed, or you simply reserve a table for him in your section. Then he takes you home only to be at your door in the morning on Saturday to take you out for brunch. Once you’re fed he usually takes you somewhere, a museum, a gallery, or maybe just for a walk in the park. You talk and talk, never running out of things to say and every time you part ways your heart aches to be with him again.
Sundays are the only days when you usually don’t meet, but he is always on your mind. You read the books you get from him, you text him about the tiniest of things and wish he was there with you.
You tend to forget how you got into this position, but you’re reminded of it when the first amount appears on your bank account and then disappears with the rest of your rent. The guilt never truly disappears, especially when you realize you genuinely enjoy spending time with Harry and that it feels like he is just giving you the money for nothing.
But what keeps you on the edge the most is that you’re falling for him and it’s a dangerous territory. You’ve been like a lovesick puppy the past weeks, always thinking about him, zoning out at work just because you got a text from him. You haven’t felt like this since probably middle school when you had a fat crush on the cool boy in your grade. How could you not fall for him when he is the perfect man?
However you have no idea if he feels the same way or not. Sometimes you’re convinced he is just as into you as you’re into him, but then you remind yourself that you’re just some broke, silly girl while he is a successful businessman, so why would he choose you out of all the women he could get?
It’s still a mystery you haven’t figured out, but realization slowly sets in that you can’t go on like this for too long. You need to tell him how you feel so he has the chance to think your deal over. It’s just that you fear that he might not want to see you ever again. That would break your heart completely.
The past week has been awful. Somehow you fell behind with studying, you were late to two of your shifts and you’ve been having to deal with some of the rudest customers just to top it all. By the time Saturday comes you feel drained, especially because you weren’t able to spend as much time with Harry as you wanted. He’s been working on a huge deal all week and could barely free himself for one dinner. It all took a toll on you.
You’re convinced he won’t be able to see you today either, but when you hear the doorbell ring a little after nine, your heart practically bursts out of your chest. Opening the door you finally see him and the urge to throw yourself into his arms is almost unbearable.
“Hi!” you breathe out and when you see his eyes light up, you just can’t hold yourself back. You wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his chest, inhaling his sweet, comforting scent and as he curls his arms around you as well, you wish you could stay like this forever.
“Hey, missed me?” he chuckles softly and you don’t even care about appearing clingy anymore, just nod into his chest. “If I knew this is how you’d greet me I would have come sooner,” he adds before you finally peel yourself off of him.
“Um, sorry, the place is kind of a mess,” you sigh as you look around. Cleaning hasn’t been your top priority and now that you realize it, you feel a bit embarrassed he has to see it.
“No need to apologize, darling. More interested in how you’re doing,” he tells you as he follows you into your small kitchen so you could make him his usual cup of tea. It’s a habit now, you keep his favorite in your cupboards at all times and know exactly how he drinks it.
“Well, I feel like shit,” you scoff shaking your head. “This week felt like a year and it was a shitty one. Work and school has been killing me.”
“How can I help?” he asks in an instant as you hand him his mug, because yes, he has a favorite mug at your place, one that has tiny dancing frogs on it. Looks ridiculous in his hands, but it’s also the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen.
“Thank you for wanting to help, but it’s my shitshow, I don’t want to load it on you.”
“You’re not loading anything on me. I want to help, just tell me what I can do,” he insists.
“I need to reread the last part of my thesis, because something is off with it, but I can’t figure it out. I also have to turn in a project in about two hours and as you can see, the place is a disaster,” you sigh looking around. “I don’t think you can—“
“I’ll take a look at your thesis while you finish the project and turn it in. Then just take a nap, I can tell you haven’t slept well lately, I’ll clean up as much as I can,” he says without a second thought.
“You’re not cleaning up, Harry,” you shake your head chuckling.
“Okay, then I’ll just fill up the dishwasher,” he grins cheekily. It would be such a big help alone and you’re way too tired to refuse his offer.
So that’s how you end up in your bedroom, finishing up your project while Harry reads your thesis on his phone after you sent it over to him, taking notes about what should be changed or fixed. Originally you didn’t want to take a nap as well, but by the time you turn in your project your head feels way too heavy, so you decide to just lay down for a bit.
Of course you end up sleeping for almost two hours. When you open your eyes you hear some soft music playing outside and guilt washes over you instantly for letting Harry alone for so long. As you walk out your jaw drops.
Harry didn’t just load the dishwasher. He cleaned up the whole kitchen, gathered your dirty clothes from the floor and put them into your hamper, cleaned up your small dining table that was covered with notes, books and other knick-knacks you left out during the week. You find him changing the lightbulb in your lamp that’s on the sidetable next to your couch, something you’ve been delaying for weeks now.
“Oh, you’re up!” he smiles softly as he finishes up the task and walks closer.
“Harry, we agreed you wouldn’t clean up my mess,” you sigh, but on the other hand you’re eternally grateful he did all of this for you.
“I know, but… I just wanted to make you happy,” he admits with a shy smile and your heart skips a beat.
This is the moment. You can’t just keep hiding your feelings any longer, but how can you tell him you completely fell for him?
“Can I kiss you?” you hear yourself asking before you could even think about it. You see the surprise in his eyes and you hold your breath as you wait for an answer.
“I-I didn’t do it to get anything from you. You don’t… You don’t have to,” he stammers and it just makes you want to kiss him even more.
“I know,” you smile back at him. “But I want to, can I?” you ask again, stepping closer to him, so you’re only inches away from him.
His eyes trail down to your lips before returning to your eyes and then he finally nods. But instead of waiting for you to kiss him, he makes the first move.
His lips press against yours, soft and warm and you kiss him back in an instant, arms coming up to curl around his neck as his hands find their way to your waist, pulling you against him. He starts off slow, taking his time, savoring you, but then he gives and takes more, the kiss deepens and soon enough you completely melt against his lips. You press yourself as tight against him as possible, as if you’re trying to become one with him, your fingers combing through his messy locks and when he moans into your mouth you feel all your arousal pool between your legs.
His hands wander down to your ass, grabbing onto it shamelessly and you love how he has taken control when just minutes ago he was doubting if you really wanted to kiss him. Somehow you end up moving around in the room until your back hits the wall and you moan into the kiss, pulling one leg up to hook around him, only to have him urge you to do the same with the other so you’re clinging onto him as he presses you against the wall.
He pulls back abruptly, both of you panting with your chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Y/N, I don’t want you to think you have to do this because of the deal we made,” he growls with a pained look on his face and it takes a few moments for you to process his words.
“I’m doing this because I want you, I’ve wanted you for a while now. Do you want me?”
“Fuck, you have no idea,” he groans before kissing you hard again and you want to tell him you do have an idea, because you feel it through his hungry, demanding kisses, but you’re way too busy kissing him back.
You fight your feet back to the ground and it’s all a mess from there. You both start undressing in a hurry while also trying to keep touching each other, clothes are flying around the room until you only have your bralette on and Harry’s throbbing erection is covered with just his underwear. He pulls you at the same time you want to move towards the bedroom, but you lose balance and he tries to catch you, but at the end you both end up on the floor, laughing and panting as you’re lying on top of him.
“Are you alright?” he asks, brushing your hair out of your face.
“Yeah,” you nod, still laughing.
When the giggles die down you stare down at him and realize again just how beautiful he is. Leaning down you kiss him again, this time slower, more sensually as your hands wander down his perfectly sculpted body until you reach his rock hard cock. You squeeze him through the fabric of his underwear, a whine slipping through his lips as his fingers dig into your thighs on either sides of him.
“So you want me?” you whisper against his pink, swollen lips while you slowly pull him out of his boxer briefs, stroking his length lazily.
“I do, I have wanted you the moment I first saw you,” he admits and his words go straight to your pussy.
“We wasted too much time,” you sigh shakily as you position him to your core.
“No time is wasted that I spent with you,” he breathes out and you sink down on him with a loud moan, both from the feeling from being filled up by him and also from his words.
“Harry,” you gasp, hands on his chest to keep your balance while his palms are gently rubbing your hips, thighs and waist, his eyes glued to you as you sit on top of him.
“I’m right here, baby,” he murmurs as you start to move slowly, finding a rhythm that feels the best, moving your hips up and down, back and forth.
The hardwood floor is painful under your knees and you know Harry must be uncomfortable lying on it as well, but neither of you wants to move from here, the pleasure outshines everything as you start to move faster and faster, feeling your climax building up in the pit of your stomach.
You try to go faster as you feel your orgasm nearing, but your legs are giving up, so Harry wraps his arms around you and flips the two of you over. You gasp as your back hits the floor, but the moment he starts fucking you, you forget about it all. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking on the skin as he keeps thrusting fast and hard until you finally reach your high.
He follows just moments after, the room fills with your moans and panting, the two of you are one big mess and when he stops moving he falls to the floor next to you, halfway lying on top of you. His heavy, tattooed arm is draped across your chest that’s rapidly rising and falling as you try to catch your breath.
When you return to reality you turn to face him, only to find him staring at you with bright eyes.
“Hi,” you giggle, rolling to your side so you can lean in and kiss him gently.
“Hi,” he grins back. “So… I guess we both kept a little something from each other all along, huh?”
“I don’t know how you thought I wouldn’t fall for you, Harry,” you tease him, brushing a loose curl out of his forehead.
“I could say the same.”
“I hope you know there’s no way I’m taking your money from now on,” you tell him, only to earn a confused look from him.
“What do you mean?”
“I still feel bad about it, but now that… we’re something more, it would be wrong,” you explain, but it seems like he disagrees.
“But I want to take care of you. I want to make you happy and I can’t do that if you struggle with your rent. Let me do this for you!” he begs.
“But isn’t it weird? That you’re giving me money?”
“I don’t see why it would be. I’m taking care of the woman I… the woman I’m falling in love with,” he says and you’re convinced he can hear your heart beating wildly in your chest. “Or if you don’t want it, I have a better solution,” he adds.
“Yeah? What is that?”
“Move in with me. That way you don’t have to worry about your rent,” he simply tells you and your eyes widen at his suggestion.
“Maybe let’s just slow down for a bit,” you chuckle, giving his bicep a squeeze. “Let’s talk about it later, alright? We can come up with a plan that suits both of us. We have other things to do now.”
“Like what?”
“Getting up from the floor. It’s fucking killing me,” you chuckle, making him laugh as well.
He stands up and helps you up, only to end up falling into your bed moments later. Because even though Harry said no time was wasted, you still have a lot to make up for.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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aeshmadaeva · 8 days ago
Hii… would you spare a coin for an old beggar?
Guess who’s making another donation post! Yay!!
I’m not able to make rent looking at my finances for the week, and so in a split second decision, I’m moving with little notice to my landlord, considering I’ve been making rent by the skin of my teeth every month. My husband is recently unable to work and waiting on disability, and I work as a waitress.
I have a place to go, but a lot of people don’t realize how fucking expensive it is to move. Moving will be better for us in the long term, but I need to afford rent of the other place, and a storage unit, and boxes for moving, and still pay my other bills and feed us. So on and so on.
I’m not sure how much I’ll need, I never am. If anything can be spared I’m grateful for it. If you can afford to send something, I can offer you spiritual services, and if you send enough, my husband can make custom abstract art pieces for you and send them to you in the mail. If you’d like to look at his works, msg me.
cashapp (preferred): $onyxshayde
paypal: paypal me/ch4nce
If nothing else, please reblog this post, so that I may be heard. Thank you guys
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theprettynosferatu · a month ago
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February 26:
    I don’t get it. I love dancing, and I know I’m good at it! I can see it in the men’s eyes, the way they leer at my tits and my ass with every well-practiced move, the way they shift in their seats to try to hide how hard their cocks get (why do they hide that? Hard cocks are the best!) I like giving them pleasure, because I know that pleases Daddy. He told me slutty is best and sent me so many amazing audios that make me feel so fuzzy and happy and wet… wetter is better. Wetter is better. Now they don’t want me to dance in the club anymore. I just don’t understand. I’m so dumb.
    Apparently they don’t like some of the stuff I do aside from dancing, but I don’t see how I’m doing anything bad. If I make cocks hard, shouldn’t I use my slutty holes to make them cum? Isn’t that my purpose? I’m careful, too! I only do it in the bathrooms and I’ve only gotten caught like, five times. That’s nothing! And I’m making the men happy, which makes Daddy happy. But the manager says something about rules and laws and stuff and it doesn’t make any sense. Is being a good girl bad now? I’m sure Daddy will know. I’ll chat with him tonight.
February 28:
Daddy told me everything would be fine, so I stopped worrying and edged for two days straight. Edging makes me happy. Edging makes me obedient. Edging makes me want to please cock. 
The landlord came in today, and I was happy at first. Last time he used my mouth instead of charging rent, so I felt giddy at the prospect of pleasing his cock… maybe letting him use my tight ass! And I tried to, and I know he was super hard just looking at me, but he told me this month he actually needs money or I’ll have to leave my apartment and I don’t get why and I’m upset and I can barely write. Pleasure is better than money. Still, he insists that I pay him and I think I had some savings before but I used them to get cute clothes and fun toys and all I made at the club I gave to Daddy and I don’t know what to do. I just don’t feel like… like, the world makes no sense now. Edging is simple and obeying is simple and pleasing cock is simple, so why do other things have to be so complicated? It’s like people want to be unhappy and now they want to make me unhappy too. Maybe they’re jealous. I found a way to become a complete fucking slut, so wet and empty and happy… and they are still like, thinking and stuff. Maybe they should edge themselves dumb like me. It’s so unfair!  
Thank God I have Daddy. Daddy thinks for me, and he’s so smart! He knows stuff and he’ll tell me what to do, I know he will. He will call soon, and I should make sure I look my best for him. I think I’ll go with the fishnet bodysuit.
March 1:
I can’t write. I can barely think. My heart is beating a million times a minute! I’m so, so happy I feel I could just leap up and fly to the moon! Okay, so… I told Daddy what happened at the club and what happened with the mean landlord and I was crying because it all seemed so bad and hopeless… but as always, Daddy knew exactly what to say to make me feel better and what to do to make everything okay again. And, and…
I can’t believe I’m writing this… I’ll move in with Daddy!!
It’s like a dream, like a fantasy come true, but at the same time he made it seem so simple, so obvious… I live for Daddy so it makes perfect sense to live with Daddy! That way he can be there and explain things to me and teach me and help me be what I’m supposed to be! But I’m also so scared!
I’ve never seen him. It’s so strange to think about, since he knows me better than anyone else, deep inside, in a way that no one ever knew me… and he knows me better than I know myself. But now I’ll see him, and I don’t know how I’ll react. It kinda feels like meeting God, or like, the best rock star ever. Will I be able to even speak in front of him? Will I see him and just fall to my knees instantly? I feel like seeing him might make me cum and cum and never stop cumming! But what if…
What if I’m not good enough? 
I’ve done everything he told me to do to make myself the best girl I can be for him. I… I think I used to be different, but every day those memories fade away more and more. I’m his slut. I’m his toy. I’m his plaything. That’s all I want to be. But am I hot enough? Slutty enough? Obedient enough? I mean, if I live with him… He’ll see me all the time. He’ll see me edge and he’ll see me right after I’ve woken up and he’ll see me while I’m picking outfits and doing my makeup. What if he sees something he doesn’t like? What if I do something bad and boring and not fun? 
Well, he’ll tell me how to do everything like a good girl should, I guess. But the fear is still there and I don’t like it. 
I should edge. I’m thinking too much. Edging makes me better. Edging makes me wetter. Wetter is better. Better not to think. 
March 4:
I’m so happy I could burst. It’s so hard to think and put things in order to write them down, but I have to try because Daddy told me I have to keep the diary up, so I’ll do my best to make this make sense. 
So, Daddy picked me up yesterday. I saw him. I saw him in person! And he’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. He’s tall and has dark hair and his voice, that voice that made me better on discord for so long, it was right there in my apartment… And there’s something about it, about him, that just makes everything make sense. It’s like… there’s no choice, there can be no choice because it’s just… obvious. Natural. To see him is to adore him, and things are so clear… of course he should make all the choices! Of course I should do my best to be a good girl for him and please him and serve him and become whatever he needs me to become! It’s like… duh. And he kissed me and all the fear and the anguish of the last few days just vanished, just became silly things that don’t matter. Pleasing Daddy matters, and that’s my purpose. That’s all there is and all there should be.
I got so soaked! I needed to have his cock inside me. Inside my mouth, my pussy, my mouth. Wherever he wanted, however he wanted, I just needed to give him pleasure, to be the living fucktoy I was meant to be. I couldn’t help it, I just started rubbing over my tight pants and he saw it and… and… he smiled! And then it all made sense. Daddy approved. That was it. The universe. Purpose. I’d do anything and everything to see that look of approval. And I also realized how selfish I was being. If Daddy wants me to pleasure his cock, he’ll tell me. I have no right to demand that from him. Daddy’s cock belongs to Daddy, just like I belong to Daddy. Every inch of me. My body, my mind, my soul. 
We got my suitcases in the car and he started driving me and I couldn’t stop playing with my wet cunt while he explained that he had gotten me a job at his office. I didn’t get a lot of it, to be honest. Just smelling him near me was sending me into a frenzy and it was so hard to focus… all I wanted to do was edge and edge and obey. Edge and obey. Edge and obey. My wet cunt owns me, and Daddy owns my cunt. That was all I could think of, all I needed to know. I don’t know how long he drove, or where we went. I was too edged and dumb to notice. But Daddy liked that, I know he did. I know because on the freeway he… he pulled his cock out.
It’s so hard to remember… I know it was… it was… the greatest moment of my life. My body took control. My mind was gone. His cock. His amazing, beautiful, hard cock. The center of my existence. I took it in my mouth. I used my lips, my tongue, my throat. The world stopped existing. Only Daddy’s cock mattered. Only Daddy’s pleasure mattered… not that my cunt knew that. No, it felt so amazing, like… like my pussy was linked to my mouth and to him… his pleasure was my pleasure and I felt so dizzy… His scent… The way I could feel the blood flowing in his veins… It was everything. How long did I pleasure that cock? I don’t know. I don0t care. Maybe it was minutes, maybe hours. Time made no sense, only focusing on Daddy’s pleasure made sense. Licking the tip, sucking it hard, then soft, using my hands to play with his shaft… I used everything I learned at the club and in porn to give him the best blowjob I could. The blowjob he deserved. It was my purpose and his right.
Then… I… I can’t put it into words, I… Okay. I’ll try. He came. He came in my mouth. But… that doesn’t do justice to how it felt, how amazing it was! I felt his seed inside my needy mouth and everything exploded in a flood of… pink. I don’t know how else to say it. I know I came, over and over, just from knowing I had made Daddy cum… but it was so much more than that! My mind was swept away and all was warm and fuzzy and pink. It was more than pleasure, it was… divine. Like a revelation, like a blessing. I… I can’t remember a lot after that. I don’t know how long I was floating in that perfect happiness… next thing I knew I was in a bedroom… my bedroom. In his place. Home. A real home. 
Fuck, I’m so fuzzy and wet just remembering it… I think I wrote enough for today. I need to edge. I need to stay edged and needy and wet for Daddy. Oh, but I have to listen to some audios. Something about the work I’ll be starting? I don’t know. I’ll edge and listen.
March 6:
I don’t know where to begin. Daddy told me to keep writing this diary but I’m such a dumb bimbo slut, and today was so… so strange and amazing and magical! But I have to try, so I guess I’ll start as far back as I can. So, like… yesterday… I can’t remember much. Daddy had me edge all day, I think… and he gave me new audios and my head was all fuzzy and gone… God, I’m such a dumb bimbo slut… so wet… dumb bimbo slut… wetter and wetter… deeper and deeper… dumb bimbo slut…
I had to edge. I… I’m still so fucking horny, I wish I could be worshiping daddy’s cock right now! But he gave me an order and I obey. So, writing. Hard to remember. I woke up this morning and daddy had prepared my outfit for my first day at my new job. I work in daddy’s office now! I have a title, like… assistant… something. I don’t know. It’s a complicated title and I’m just a dumb bimbo slut… dumb… bimbo… no, I have to focus. So, the outfit! It was so sexy and cute! I had a nice white blouse and a short skirt and really classy heels and stockings, and it made me feel… I don’t know how to describe it. Professional? It was like… I had a job and I was going to get it done, no matter what. But what… what was that job? I’m not sure. I know I looked sexy and ready and determined and it felt amazing… and I was ecstatic to work with daddy!
He drove us to the office and part of me wanted to suck his perfect cock but… I don’t know, it felt… unprofessional, and I was dressed for the office, for work, and so I waited, getting ready to do my job… whatever that was. As we went up in the elevator I felt this need growing and growing. I was a professional, and I was going to behave like a professional. 
The office was so big and classy and sparkling clean, and people moved everywhere, busy with… hum… whatever they did. Well, I could be busy and productive too! Daddy showed me to my desk and told me to be ready to work. Of course I was ready for work! I was dressed like a good office girl! So I sat there ready to do my job. What was my job again? I didn’t know. But I guessed someone would tell me. 
Then… something happened. I can’t explain it. In a desk near mine someone was muttering, doing math in his head, I guess… I don’t know. All I remember is the numbers… I can’t explain why, but it felt like they were driving inside my head, like they meant something more than just numbers, like they were bypassing my brain and sending some kind of message to my needy cunt… a message I couldn’t fully comprehend. I felt dizzy. But I had to be professional, had to be a good office girl… do my job… but my pussy felt on fire. It demanded attention, it demanded to control me… my pussy controls me… I’m a dumb bimbo slut… I’m a dumb bimbo slut…
Fuck, I just edged again. I can’t help it. I don’t want to stop. I need to stay edged and needy and ready… but good girls obey and daddy told me to write. So, I remember the numbers… and then one number in particular. I can’t remember which one. It wasn’t a big number, that much I know. It’s all so… floaty in my mind. All I know is I heard the number and this idea just came into my head and it became a compulsion, an absolute need. I needed to do my job. That was all I could think about. Do my job. Do my job. The number told me what to do. I went to the warm, carpeted floor and spread my legs. I had to do my job. I opened a drawer in the desk and pulled out the huge dildo I knew was going to be there. How did I know? I don’t care. The number… it bounced inside my head, blocking out all thoughts. Do my job…
The men in their suits and the women in their skirts all surrounded me, pointed their phones at me and I had to do my job. I undid my blouse to let them see my amazing whore tits. My job. A show. I sucked on the dildo, licked it, took it deep inside my throat… and I made sure to look at each camera in turn, to give each one a good view… do my job… I pulled my g-string to the side and started fucking myself with the dildo. I was desperate and savage and merciless. It stretched me and filled me and I moaned like a bitch in heat for them all… my job… I couldn't cum. I wasn’t allowed to cum. I shoved that dildo like a beast, but I knew I wouldn’t disobey daddy. But I also knew I needed to do my job, and every video needs a good ending. So I acted. I bucked my hips and moaned and screamed and I’m sure everyone thought I was cumming like a total slut. Everyone except daddy. I saw him in the crowd, his eyes full of pride. That was all that mattered. All I needed.
The people went back to work, happy with their new video. I sat in my chair, got my clothes ready and professional again, and basked in the afterglow of a job well done. 
I had a salad for lunch, and returned to my desk.
The afternoon was quiet. Of course, the man near me kept muttering numbers and every now and then some number would make me edge, or remove my blouse, or play with my titties. When work was over, Daddy drove us back. I wanted to jump on his cock, to grind and take him deep inside me… but I was still dressed like a professional and that didn’t seem like the professional thing to do. I know clothes don’t make the person, but… I don’t know, seeing myself in the mirror with my work clothes kinda put me in a working mindset. That’s normal, right?
To be continued... (or read the whole thing right now on the patreon!)
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chickenparm · 5 months ago
Happenstance (yandere!Silco/gn!Reader) Pt. 2
SYKE WE GOT MORE TO THIS Every part will likely end in a spot that I could easily pick up later while also being a conclusion I'd be happy with leaving.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8
AO3 Link
The only way to live in Zaun without hearing the name Silco at least once was if you were blind and deaf. You were neither, and as such you were very well acquainted with the problems both solved and caused by Silco, king of Zaun in all but name.
Despite having kidnapped you, he was gracious and obliged to your request when you had asked him very quietly, “Please leave me alone.”
The moment the door shut behind him, you’d accepted the embrace of the sheets surrounding you in the most luxurious comfort you’ve ever been blessed to witness. Outside, you were limp, but inside your brain was running at max capacity.
Silco had been the one to pay your rent and threaten your landlord, likely on severe pain of death. Silco had someone break into your apartment and provide you with food, furniture, clothing, trinkets, and more. Silco had one of his henchmen assigned to tail you at all times to prevent harm to your person.
Silco also kidnapped you, making sure you heard the sound of the lock turning when the door shut behind him. Whatever he wanted to do with you, it was painfully obvious that you were in no position to stop it.
Your strength had started to come back in increments, and by the time you were done taking stock of the situation you’d been thrust into, it was easy enough for you to sit up in the bed. To your immense relief, you were still clothed in what you remembered wearing during your abduction.
At the foot of the bed was a set of clothing that was simple enough - a black tank top, a pair of soft pants, and some undergarments. A quick glance told you that they’d likely be in your size. On the far wall from the bed was an open door that led to a bathroom that seemed well-furnished, and you chose there to change while locking the door behind you.
Then, you climbed into the bathtub and tugged the curtain closed to hide you from the world and the haunting man that had taken you captive.
Without a window in the bathroom, you didn’t know how long you sat curled up in the tub, knees hugged to your chest with trembling arms. Eventually, Silco would return and he would likely be very angry when he realized you’d locked yourself in the bathroom.
As soon as that thought finished, the handle turned and caught on the lock. You could almost imagine the fury on his face as he lifted a fist to bang on the door and demand that you open it.
Gently, knuckles hit the wood of the door, then the sliding sound of skin as he likely laid a hand flat against it, “Sweetheart, will you come out?”
“Please leave me be,” You answered in the same tone as before, though you know he heard you as his hand slid across the paneled wood.
“I did as you asked, now I implore that you return the favor. Open the door.”
You slowly pulled the curtain back just enough to look at the entrance to the bathroom. You could see his shadow under the door - it was unmoving, not even to shift weight from one foot to the other. Just the shadow of two boots that seemed to hold a great deal of patience in the face of your defiance.
Patience that you knew would run thin - you’d seen his goons before, shaking good people down for the money they owed him and ending the life of those who refused to cooperate. You didn’t want to be one of those casualties, despite the nagging thought that your new living arrangements were unlikely to end otherwise.
Silco said your name quietly, just to get your attention before speaking lowly against the door, “I just would like to see you. Speak with you face to face. Surely you can grant me that much, my dear?”
With the thought of dying in the front of your mind, you slowly climbed from the tub and walked without a sound to the door. The moment you slid the lock out of the way and removed your hand, the door was pulled open.
Silco was tall , especially with the late afternoon light at his back darkening him to only a silhouette with that singular red eye boring into you. He shifted, and you flinched away from the hand that raised.
“I will not hurt you,” Silco said firmly, and you realized that the hand he held out was simply a gesture asking for you to place your own within. Tremors rocking your joints, your hand rested on his, and fingers curled around your hand firmly to pull you away. He took steps backward at a slow pace, giving you ample time to follow along toward the bed.
He sat down first, then guided you to sit next to him, closer than you’d like with your thigh pressed against his. You shifted away, but he only followed each small movement you made until you gave up, letting the contact happen at his leisure.
You spoke first, finally bringing your eyes up to lock with his mismatched gaze. The expression on his face was soft, his lip curled up on his non-scarred side just slightly. His hand was still holding your own, and he pulled it to his lap to lay his other atop it to cradle it gently.
“I’d seen you from afar after speaking to your employer about our business happenings. I knew you were mine from the first moment, and the more I learned of you, there was not a single doubt in my mind that you were meant to be at my side,” Silco paused as he mulled over words, searching your eyes for something you weren’t sure he’d find. You received no indication either way as he continued, “Until it was time to approach you, I needed to protect you. Keep you safe and cared for since I could not be with you.”
“So you sent… whoever that was to drug me…?”
“That was not my original intention. I had intended to woo you properly, allow you time to care for me. I admit, perhaps I was overzealous in providing for you, since it only made you feel unsafe. For that, I apologize.”
He let your hand go, instead reaching to curl his fingers around your chin gently, “Your actions caused me to have to jump forward many steps, as I’d hoped by the time I brought you here that you’d be as enraptured by me as I am with you - hopelessly. Endlessly. A depth that cannot be captured in its entirety with any words man could conjure in its wake”
You barely could comprehend what he was saying to you, distracted by the feel of cool hands on your skin and dual-colored eyes trapping your gaze. You couldn’t look away, like he was magnetized to only you. One eye the color of the sky that you’ve only glimpsed unhindered a handful of times, and the other a haunting red that showed no malice when it beheld you. If you focused on it, you swore it spiraled ominously.
“No harm will come to you here. You will be cared for, provided for, and protected. I would put my life down for you, should it come to that.”
“Can… Can I leave?”
“No,” Silco answered sharply, almost too sharp. You flinched again at the harsh syllable, and the thumb on your chin shifted to rub soothingly along your jawline, “You cannot leave - it is the one thing I will not allow. Now that I have you here, I cannot bear to be parted from you again.”
“And if I do?”
“Then I will find you,” His brow twitched downward as he pondered your words, “I would burn this entire city in my haste to find you again, my dear. There is not a single person that could stop it.”
It was this statement that finally snapped you back to reality from the trance he’d held you in. Disgusted with yourself, you realized that he’d begun to sway you with pretty words, especially when you could taste the poison they were coated with.
“So I’m a prisoner.”
“Nothing of the sort,” Gently pinching your jaw once as he got to his feet and walked toward the large window that overlooked the rest of the city. From this distance, if you focused, you realized you could see your home. Your window . He’d been easily watching you this entire time - the Eye of Zaun had been focused on you.
Silco turned to you, leaning against the window sill and bracing himself with a hand on each side on the edge, “I would liken you to an honored guest, at least until you accept that you are truly here to be mine. My confidant, my partner… my lover.”
The word almost made you want to vomit. Your throat tightened and saliva pooled in your mouth in reaction to the nauseating tension in your stomach. Lover ?
Silco’s eyes seemed to be all-seeing, even to your thoughts as he continued, “You will come to accept it soon enough. You’ll find I can be extremely patient if need be.”
“You’ll wait forever, then,” You promised with a carefully measured tone, refusing to betray the unease that was currently settling deep within the marrow of your bones.
“Oh, on the contrary,” Silco pushed off the window again to cross the room, one hand outstretched in a plea for you to take it once more. Knowing it was futile, you accepted the gesture and let him pull you to your feet and into his personal space. His body heat mingled with yours as he leaned to your ear, lips barely brushing the skin.
“I will have you desperate for my touch. You will beg for me to take you, and you’ll find that I will oblige with your every need so long as you ask.”
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a-kind-of-merry-war · 11 months ago
Beetle (my beloved)
Jaskier gets a horse. Dedicated to @srapsodia’s anon. (Anon I genuinely love you.)
1.9k words, no warnings.
“She’s a fine horse,” the stable master says, passing Jaskier the reins. “Very good tempered, too.”
“Is that so?”
Jaskier rubs the dark brown mare’s nose, and she snorts at him. No doubt she remembers the last time he’d visited the stable when he’d come to pay the rest of the deposit. His pockets had been laden with coins and sugar cubes, and were significantly lighter of both when he’d left. He’d had too many near misses with Roach and his fingers to risk a horse who wasn’t at least amicable towards him.
“I’ll be sad to see her go,” the man continues. He gives Jaskier an appraising look - taking in his fine clothing. “But I can see you’ll take care of her.”
Jaskier grins. “Of course I will,” he says. “My fri—” he swallows that back. “Someone I, ah, travel with is extremely fond of horses. She’ll be doted on, I’m sure.”
Jaskier watches as the stable master - and his apparent army of stablehands - ready the horse for riding. He wants to argue that he can do this himself, thank you very much, but they all seem to want to say goodbye to the mare before he takes her off on adventures. He’d been deliberately vague about his work, and the master believes he’s a travelling bard. That’s true, of course, but it also manages to conveniently skip the details about monsters and bandits and continual peril.
When she’s finally ready, the stable master helps Jaskier up onto her back. He takes her for a trot around the paddock, marvelling at how much friendlier and easier to guide she is than Roach.
As he goes to leave, he rides past one of the stablehands, watching him closely as they perch on the fence that encloses the farm.
“Have you got a name for her yet?” They ask, sharply. It sounds like a simple question, but Jaskier knows he's being assessed.
Jaskier smiles. “I do, as it happens.”
The stablehand does not smile back. “Good.”
Jaskier is vibrating with excitement as he waits outside Hagge. He’s been meeting Geralt at this spot every spring for nearly twenty years part of a wholly unspoken agreement. Oftentimes they’ll actually find each other in the inn, one or both of them waylaid along the way, but this year Jaskier is keen to meet him on the road.
He’s only showing off a little.
Geralt has been grousing at him to get a horse of his own for almost as long as they’ve been travelling together, and now he finally has. He wants Geralt to like her, absurd as it is, although he’s quite sure Geralt has never met a horse he doesn’t like. She really is a good horse, from what little he knows about horses: she’s friendly and slow to tire, and she doesn’t mind when he threads flowers in her mane or sings at her.
He sings at her a lot.
There is - alas - the small matter of the name. It came to him quite suddenly, while he lay awake in his rented Academy rooms daydreaming about the coming spring. He’d decided on the name before he’d even decided on the horse: before he’d even decided to buy a horse.
He hopes Geralt likes the name, as well as the horse. It feels a little like an imposition - like he’s crossed an invisible line. If he doesn’t like the name, it’s far too late to change it anyway, and Geralt will simply have to live with it. It’s not like she’s his horse, after all.
If he doesn’t like the name - if he hates it - Jaskier can only hope that he doesn’t quite catch its implication. That would be ruinous, of course, and then he’d be left with a horse bought specifically for exploring the continent but no one to explore it with.
It’ll be fine. Geralt doesn’t typically go in for deeper meaning or introspection. Anyway; maybe he will understand what Jaskier’s quite desperately trying to imply, and he’ll be… agreeable. Pleased, even.
Fuck. There’s no need to feel such anxiety about a bloody horse. He grips her reins a little tighter, nervously bouncing in the saddle. She snorts at him - a brief protest - and he stills.
He’s been waiting for nearly an hour, and is considering giving up and retiring to the inn, when there’s a whistle to the North. He turns, and: there.
Geralt is coming around the bend in the road that Jaskier knows perhaps more intimately than any other stretch of road on the Continent. He always comes from that direction, heading south from Kaer Morhen, and every time it makes Jaskier’s stomach leap to see him emerge from the trees, armour shining, hair flashing white in the spring sunshine.
Jaskier spurs forwards to meet him on the road. Geralt waves - just once - and then his eyes immediately fall to the horse. Jaskier feels a little smug: it’s not a dissimilar feeling to when he realised he could bribe his sister’s children into liking him with their favourite treats.
“Geralt!” He calls, “You made it! How was your winter, my de—”
“You got a horse.”
Jaskier tries not to smirk. “I did,” he says. “Isn’t she lovely?”
Geralt urges Roach forwards to better examine Jaskier’s mount. The two horses peer at each other.
“What’s her name?”
Jaskier tries to ignore the sudden flare of fear that’s twisted in his gut. “Beetle.” He fumbles the word, feeling his face flush. “Her name is Beetle.”
He’s expecting Geralt to be amused, perhaps. To laugh. To recognise what he’s done and either praise him for being so dreadfully clever (unlikely) or chastise him for being so forward and foolish (significantly more likely). He does neither. He just stares, and Jaskier finds himself compelled to continue, the tips of his ears turning hot.
“Because… Because Roach, you see?” He explains, stupidly. “They match.”
Geralt continues to stare.
“How do they match?” He says, finally.
Jaskier frowns. “Because they’re both bugs, Geralt? Roach, beetle, you know…” he pulls his hands up, twiddling his fingers beneath a chin in a reasonably good impression of an insect. “...bugs?”
And then Geralt bursts out laughing.
Jaskier scowls. “What’s so—”
“She’s named after the fish, Jaskier.”
“I— what?”
“Roach is a kind of fish.”
“Well, I know that, Geralt, I’m not entirely stupid—” Geralt snorts at that, and he ploughs on. “How was I supposed to know you’d named your horse after a fish?”
“Because naming her after a cockroach would be more reasonable?”
Jaskier splutters. “I— well— maybe! For you!” He tries to regain his dignity, straightening himself in the saddle. “We’ve known each other for twenty years, Geralt, and you never thought to explain the name?”
Geralt shrugs. “Did you ever think to ask?”
Jaskier’s mouth hangs open. He’s forced to concede that Geralt is right.
“Come on,” Geralt ignores his sullen silence and burning face, leading Roach around him. “I’ve been travelling since before dawn. I want a drink.”
Jaskier, still utterly aghast, can only follow him.
They stable the horses next to each other, and it’s a small miracle that they seem to be getting along. Roach is famously snippy, both with humans and other horses, and Jaskier had been a little concerned that after all his anxiety she’d be so ill-tempered towards Beetle that they wouldn’t be able to travel together after all. Her personality rather reminds Jaskier of Geralt, although he’s never been brave enough to point that out. She seems to tolerate Beetle, though, and they leave them happily munching on fresh hay in the well-stocked stables to find lunch for themselves.
The landlord of the tavern they frequent is used to them now, and always greets them with easy familiarity. More often than not, they’ll rent a room for the evening - Jaskier had procured one for them as soon as he’d arrived, in fact - and the landlord seems to recognise the importance of building a rapport with well-paying regulars.
He leads them to their usual table in the corner nearest the window, supplying them with the good ale - not the watered down stuff - leaving them to get down to the important business of catching up. Rather: Jaskier attempts to catch up, while Geralt answers his questions with one-word statements and adds only nods and hums to Jaskier’s stories of that winter’s academy adventures. Still, it’s good to see him again - more than good - and thank Melitele, he hasn’t appeared to have noticed what Jaskier’s attempt to give their mounts matching names really meant.
They’re nearing the end of their second pints, Jaskier’s fingertips tingling as he waves his hand around, when Geralt finally adds more to their conversation than a grunt.
“How long have you had Beetle?”
Jaskier blinks at him, thrown off by the sudden change in subject. “Um… nearly four months.”
“It’s probably too late to change her name, then.” Geralt catches his eye over the table, then adds quickly - “If you wanted to.”
“Change her—” Jaskier frowns. “What are you talking about?”
“You said you wanted their names to match.”
“...yeah,” says Jaskier.
“If you’d asked,” Geralt continues, “you’d have known why Roach is called Roach. You could have called yours…” he considers, for a moment. “Trout. Perch.” He lifts his head, and looks Jaskier up and down. “Guppy.”
The lingering gaze makes Jaskier blush. “A Roach and a Guppy?”
“Hmm.” Geralt shrugs. “But like I said. Too late now.”
“Probably is,” Jaskier concedes. He sips at his own ale, maintaining Geralt’s gaze. “If I wanted to.” He swallows. “Serves me right for not asking you, I suppose. Now I look like a fool.”
“Unlike two grown men riding with horses with matching names?”
“There is nothing foolish about matching names,” says Jaskier, pointing a warning finger across the table. “It’s noble. It’s…” he pauses. “...a partnership.”
Geralt smiles. “In that case,” he says, “we’ll get you a pony in the next town we stop in. You can call it Herring.”
Jaskier snorts. “Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep, Geralt.”
Geralt just hums once more, and sees off his drink.
The pass north from Ard Carraigh is treacherous and steep, bordered by walls of ice and snow. Beetle, it transpires, is surprisingly resilient, and makes the journey successfully - if not quite easily.
Their arrival to the keep is a noisy, busy affair. Geralt’s family is still a mystery to Jaskier, and they’re swept up in greetings and teasings as they all say the same thing: it’s about fucking time. They arrive in the early afternoon, but the sun is low in the sky before their things are stowed in Geralt’s chambers and they’re finally alone once more.
Jaskier finds himself being led on a brief tour - the kitchen, the armoury, the library. He pulls on the thick fur cloak that Geralt had gifted him before they started the trek north, and Geralt shows him around the grounds too: the training yard, the crumbling outer walls, and the little half-covered grassy patch which serves as a meagre farmstead for the few animals who can thrive in the mountains.
They pause beside the patched-up wall, and Geralt whistles. There’s a scuffling noise from the half-collapsed shed where the livestock lives, and then a little black goat emerges, quickly followed by the rest.
“She’s not quite a pony,” Geralt says, “but she’s the best I could do. Her name’s Carp.”
“Geralt…” Jaskier peers at the tiny creature. She looks very sweet, but he knows enough about goats to understand that it’s no more than an act.
“Do you like her?”
Jaskier extracts his hand from beneath the cloak, reaching for Geralt’s. He takes it, slotting their fingers together in a firm grip.
“I love her.”
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sleepyrouge · a month ago
truly do not mind me i’m just thinking about older!kirishima (like mid-late 30s) having the same routine every morning that involves going to the same coffee shop after his gym workout and:
-you’re always there bright and early every morning despite being grouchy as hell at having to wake up early (but you get to control the music this way so it’s okay)
-always give him his coffee w a smile no matter how long the line is (because that’s red riot and he’s tall and strong and cute)
-but heaven forbid your co-workers ever find out bc the teasing would be merciless
-one day he figures out that you’re a student at a local university
-then everyday after that he’ll ask you about what you’re learning in your classes and it’s endlessly fascinating to him (much to the chagrin of the little blue haired lady waiting in line behind him to order)
-and it’s incredibly endearing to him listening to you gush and sometimes gripe about the american lit class you have to take
-but like in his free time kirishima starts looking up stuff about literature to talk to you about because he just loves hearing your voice especially when it’s still kind of soft with just a touch of sleep in it
-so the next morning he’s telling you very seriously about this theory that he absolutely came up w himself that shakespeare wasn’t just one man but a collection of writers and you just stand there with this completely lovestruck look on your face
-and like at this point kirishima notices that you always have your hair and nails and makeup done really nicely and just generally always seem to have an air of having it all together (but hoo boy if he knew) and he thinks it’s really cute how distraught you get if any of the ingredients for the coffee drinks get spilled on your apron
-and then you have to take another job as a waitress
-because you’re completely broke bc you’re astronomically bad w money and spending it on asinine things like your hair and nails but you’re hell bent on getting your classical lit degree without help from ur parents
-so u get a job at a cute little restaurant
- and lo and behold who comes in one night but kirishima himself with a few of his hero friends and he makes a little joke like “what are you doing, following me?” and you get all flustered but he tips well and lowkey flirts w you which his friends howl about once they leave
-and he starts finding excuses to come eat at the restaurant whenever your working like “oh, i forgot to thaw something out” or “oh, ants got into my pantry” but you really don’t mind because he’s so easy to talk to and will just let you go on and on about anything that you need to and try to give you advice
-and he comes in one night and gets a table by himself near the kitchen and when he’s reading over the menu, he hears you crying on your phone to your landlord (🤮) about how your rent would be late this month but you promise to have it soon
-and so instead of you being his waitress that night, he sits you down and makes you tell him about all of your financial problems and offers to help you pay your rent this month because he understands and your focus really should be on your studies
-but you just go on about how it might be easier to afford things if you didn’t feel the need to spend money you don’t have on stuff like your nails but you explain that you feel like you won’t be taken seriously without it
-and so kiri offers to pay for that instead, anything to make your life a little easier (lowkey a sugar daddy but without…the sugar)
-and so that’s how you end up going on little shopping dates with him every few weeks and he lets you pick out new clothes for him and stuff for yourself and he’s so patient and he listens to you complain about your crazy eighty year old love themes in spanish lit professor and how he’s absolutely killing your interest in neruda and kirishima quietly adds that name to the list of things you talk about to look up when he has free time
-and all this time neither of you realize that you both have feelings for each other and kirishima just keeps chugging along, only a little insecure that you’re quite a bit younger than he is and the situation you’re in could be easily misconstrued, especially by the media
-and yet that doesn’t stop him from waltzing right into the coffee shop one morning during your shift and telling you about how he accidentally bought a second ticket to a shakespeare musical coming to town and “would you be interested in going to see something rotten with me? it’s okay if not!”
- so you go to see the show with him and while it’s absolutely a good time, you’re in a sour mood the whole time because you always do your best to look as presentable as possible and as calm and collected as you can around this absolute gem of a man and if this was even a date, he’s shown absolutely no interest or inclination of making a move on you so you’ve just gotta be unloveable, right?
-kirishima picks up on your shift in mood and after the musical he asks you about why you’re pouting because the show was an absolutely knock down-drag out time and you end up blubbering through your tears and mascara (that kiri helped you pick out) that you thought there was something wrong with you or maybe you were asking too much of him to like you back
-and then on a busy nighttime sidewalk in the city he ends up confessing his feelings for you and you feel like a fool in the best way
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gogy-darling · 3 months ago
☽ Newest Fanfic Recs 20k+ words ☾
fuck that noise (just focus on me) by niunepp
Length: 6,672 | Rating: Teen and Up Audience
Warning: fluff and humor
“Listen to me. We’ve been friends for like what, six months? I think I have the right to know.”
Dream sips on his coffee, “I’m not telling you, Sapnap.”
that fic in which Dream is married, and no one knows to who. Add a few nosy students plus some overly meddlesome friends, and now Dream has to fend them off to keep his relationship a secret.
go live by lucklikeyou
Length: 6,628 | Rating: Explicit
Warning: camboy au | smut
Camboy George asks his famous Youtuber boyfriend Dream to join him on one of his streams.
Guts and Glory by isntitcrazy
Length: 8,369 | Rating: Explicit
Warning: vampire au | mild blood | smut
“What’s with all the mirrors?” he asks, breathless, but his eyes still betray him in a curious watch of his lonesome reflection.
“Oh, Georgie,” Dream teases, timbre low and rumbling in the center of his chest. Curling fingertips around the brunet’s chin, he tips his gaze sideways, dark eyes re-meeting themselves as if they never left. “I want you to look at yourself.”
George gets fucked in front of a mirror, but all he can see is himself.
Hot Idiots by Harper44
Length: 8,475 | Rating: Explicit
Warning: friends to lovers | sex tape | smut
Two best friends and roommates realize they aren't going to make rent this month. They either need to make some money fast or beg their landlord for an extension, and no one likes speaking to their landlord, so what can they possibly do? How about they make a sex tape (even though they definitely aren't attracted to each other) and then pretend like it never happened?
In Every Universe (Unconditionally Yours) by giulscio
Length: 13,769 words | Rating: Explicit
Warning: fluff | soft smut
Thinking about future has always been scary for George, with Dream it is a little less so.
He can imagine himself being with him for the rest of his life, and it should be frightening, but it feels like the most reassuring thought. Now that he’s learned that happiness feels like a pretty blond guy he still calls with his cute internet name, he never wants to let go.
George and Dream are very in love.
our state of being by niunepp
Length: 15,664 | Rating: Explicit
Warning: angst | smut
“Pay for—oh god—you could pay for my master’s? Keep going, please, I’m so close.”
It’s a joke. He can tell it’s a joke from the huff of laughter that punctuates George’s words. He can tell from the way George moves on immediately, paying no mind to his quip in favour of the pleasure running up his legs in little sparks of electricity.
There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for him.
“I’ll do it,” he blurts. “I’ll pay for whatever you want me to.”
Dream accidentally becomes George's sugar daddy, and falls in love.
Perfection by Nymphiou
Length: 14,291 words | Rating: Explicit
Warning: smut | erotic poetry?
"It always ended in a different way when the eyes of one met the other. Lips painted purple by so many fiery yet heartbreaking kisses, red marks that turned purple and green on each other's neck, cervicals and sternums, hair still in a tangle as if a tornado had passed over them, breath still slightly ragged and pupils blurred even after hours and hours after their bodies had connected once again in a temptation that was now forbidden to them.''
* * *
Or : Dream was looking for inspiration and found it by fantasizing a little too much with George and his persona on Twitter.
romance is boring by DNFANTI
Length: 5,062 | Rating: Explicit
Warning: fluff | soft smut
George has bad experiences with hookups. Dream shows him what it’s like to be cared for.
Silk n’ satin by fallincense
Length: 17,391 words | Rating: Explicit
Warning: smut | camboy au
Alas, in a cold night of December with fingers clammy on his keyboard, Dream’s met with the very face of his best friend dressed in thigh-highs and an oversized tee all for the viewing pleasure of lonely, lonely men spending their Thursday evening on a camboy site.
alternatively, gnf is a camboy and dream is. not coping so well
take my heat (and my heart) by collapsody
Length: 6,184 | Rating: Teen And Up Audience
Warning: hybrid au | fluff
“‘N more hoodies,” George answers with a frown, nuzzling deeper into the pulse of his neck and whimpering when it beats against the curl of his nose.
“Oh love,” Dream sighs unexpectedly, pulling away and eliciting a high whine from George at the missing comfort. Dream doesn’t pull away far, not far enough for his body heat to escape their proximity, but it’s not as warm as before, and that’s enough for George to complain.
But then Dream reaches around himself and tugs at his own hoodie, slowly starting to pull it up. George is quick to protest with a frown. “But you’ll-”
“Shhh,” Dream coos quietly into his temple, kissing it before continuing softly, “let me take care of you.”
George is having a bad morning, but thankfully, Dream is there to warm him up.
the fields of athenry by vividoddity
Length: 14,924 | Rating: Mature
Warning: royalty au | fluff | angst | smut
“George,” Dream whispers with the reverence one would carry a sonnet, the informal name tumbling out of his chest and into the tender night air. (Which encompassed the two like a satin blanket, the zephyr barely registering in their love hazed minds.)
George thinks he could kiss him.
Maybe because he’s weak. Because he’s spent his whole life rejecting any suitor his father sent his way. Because he can’t imagine his life without his knight, his Dream by his side.
Maybe because this night; this moment, has been long overdue.
a collection of oneshots that are centered around a royalty au. everything can be read as a stand alone.
where do you want to be in five years by alsoalison
Length: 9,993 | Rating: Explicit
Warning: time travel au | threesome M/M/M | smut
I wish I could see where I’d be at that point. Like, I wish I could see what my life looks like five years from now.
George wakes up five years in the future. He has a threesome with Dream and… himself.
Main Fanfic Recs 5k-20k words list: HERE
DNF Fanfic Masterlist: HERE
158 notes · View notes
hot-soop · 4 months ago
winter: you’re the one who bloomed me
pairing & genre: roommate!yoongi x reader, college au fluff
tags: soft min yoongi, fluff, sharing a bed, a splash of angst, falling in love, the sharing a bed trope has been dragged out and abused for nearly 6k words, everyone has poor communication skills but especially the landlord, yoongi thinks reader is the prettiest :(, unspecified reader gender/appearance, friends to lovers, and they were ROOMMATES, Andrew Garfield is not the love of your life actually, quiet romance
wc: 5.6k (complete)
rating: teen & up - frequent swearing, briefest mention of intent to waterboard someone, blink and you’ll miss it
The heating breaks in the middle of winter. Your landlord is a total shit. Yoongi lets you sleep in his bed.
Tumblr media
“Hey, can I sleep in here?”
The mass under the duvet rolls, a corner flips down to reveal a bleary eye.
“It’s just- there’s ice on my window. On the inside.”
You’d both been away for several days to spend Christmas with your families, and returned within a few hours of each other to find that the heating had broken. And at the start of the harshest winter in a decade, no amount of layers or hot chocolate will keep you warm throughout the night. And your room, with its single glazed windows, is far colder than Yoongi’s.
The lounge isn’t an option, you’d already tried for the best part of an hour, but the pleather sofa is colder still.
Yoongi, probably too tired to care, just grunts and moves a fraction to make more space, so you climb in. Double-socked toes seek out warmth next to his but you’re still careful to leave a polite gap. Polite enough for new-ish roommates sharing a bed for the first time, at least.
Yoongi said when you moved in back in September that the landlord was shitty, said that it’ll be weeks or months before he’ll do anything that requires spending his time or money, so Yoongi himself had taken to making the repairs. You didn’t mind at the time. The rent was cheap and it was close to the city. Close to campus. Yoongi was quiet, kept to himself, cleaned up, and paid his bills. The ideal roommate. But it was still warm then, and you weren’t aware that Yoongi’s skillset didn’t extend to fixing boilers.
“Thanks, Yoongi,” you whisper to the mound under the duvet.
The duvet grunts.
The apartment is empty when you wake. The clock says nine-thirty, but it’s the weekend, and your roommate doesn’t usually leave his room before eleven at the earliest.
You curl up on the sofa, blanket around your shoulders, legs tucked against your chest, a bowl of hot porridge balanced upon your knees. If you wanted, you could message him. Say something like sorry for invading your space or i hope i didn’t snore! Anything that could un-knot the worry lacing in the pit of your stomach that you crossed a line by asking to share his bed.
It’s not necessary as it turns out, because Yoongi is home just a few minutes later, one bag and two to-go coffees in his hands. He’s especially lovely just out of the snow, with his cheeks turned pink, eyes bright, and a dusting of snowflakes. There’s a lot on his hair. Pretty.
“Sleep okay?” He doesn’t look at you as he hands over your coffee, marked oat milk capp on the side in barista cursive. You weren’t aware he knew your order.
You nod and smile gratefully, mouth still occupied by a spoon of porridge. He sits at the other end of the sofa.
“Good.” He doesn’t smile back, but his few gruff words are enough to set your mind at ease. It doesn’t seem like he’s bothered. Bothered people don’t buy coffee for their botherers.
“Why’d you get up so early?” you ask, after a minute.
“Can’t sleep- when it’s cold,” he says between sips of his americano. “Got some hot water bottles for us, and a bunch of those handwarmer things that you crack.”
Oh. You dig out your phone from your pocket and open PayPal. “How much do I owe? For the coffee too.”
You’re broke as hell, but you hate the guilt that comes with not paying your way. You can walk to the restaurant you work part time at for the week instead of catching the bus, for the sake of keeping warm at night.
Yoongi huffs a laugh, an awkward noise, something someone makes when they’re caught. “Don’t worry about it.” He catches your narrowing eyes. Shifts in his seat. Sighs. “I should’ve explained better before you moved in. Should’ve said that the bastard will let us suffer and not lift a finger,” Yoongi explains, keeping his eyes trained on his cup as his tone grows more bitter. “Should’ve said this happened last winter too, and I ended up paying for the engineer to fix it. I’m sorry I didn’t say.”
“Oh. Why didn’t you?”
“Do you know how hard it is these days to find a student with a job, a non-smoker, and obviously has decent personal hygiene? One guy tried to shake my hand after scratching his asshole right in front of me.” Yoongi shudders. Whether it’s the cold or that unnecessarily vivid imagery, you don’t know. “And I can’t afford this shithole on my own.”
“Wow,” you say, wryly. “I feel so used.”
Yoongi scratches at the nape of his neck. Doesn’t reply, even though that was obviously meant to be a joke.
“That was obviously a joke.”
Yoongi laughs. Sounds fake. “Hah- yeah, no it was funny.”
Hmm. Still awkward. Before you get the chance to open your mouth, Yoongi stands abruptly, announces he has something to do for a group project, says he’ll be at the library all day, probably. You nod again. It must look dumb, how often you nod at him, like one of those bobblehead dogs people keep on the dash of their cars. He doesn’t even notice, already walking into his room.
Within a few minutes he‘s in the lounge again, backpack slung over one shoulder. He doesn’t look at you when he asks if you have plans tonight. His ears are red. Taps at his phone.
“Nope. No plans.”
“Okay. Well- see ya.” And he’s gone, the door catching on a draft and slamming behind him.
You get his text an hour later while you’re writing an essay from your spot on the sofa, your new hot water bottle saving your toes from the chill.
yoongi [10:36]: bring your duvet if you’re gonna sleep in my bed tonight
yoongi [10:36]: you kept stealing mine
me [10:37]: sorry yoongi
me [10:37]: were you too cold?
yoongi [10:39]: only a bit
yoongi [10:39]: bring your duvet? : )
me [10:40]: okay : )
yoongi [10:40]: okay : )
It keeps you warm for the rest of the day.
It feels weird, the notion of following Yoongi to bed when he announces he’s going to sleep. So you don’t. You don’t, even though you’d been yawning for thirty minutes before the movie ended. Even though you’d already all but said you’d sleep with him tonight. Not with h- just… just in his bed.
But when you get to your room and notice the ice on the windows thicker still, and your own breath fogging the air, the decision is basically made for you. Fuck it.
Yoongi is cocooned in his duvet, only his eyes and forehead visible from the light of his phone, when you tap on his open door. Your own duvet is draped around your body like a cloak.
“Offer still on the table?”
“Mhm. Close the door, yeah? It’ll keep the heat in.”
He shuffles back while you shuffle over and all you can hear are short huffed breaths and the rustle of cheap polyester. It’d be a little funny if the winter didn’t bite at your nose so.
“Is this weird?” you ask after a few too-long minutes of laying side by side, facing each other and scrolling on your phones in total silence.
Yoongi looks up from his phone. “I don’t know. Yeah- I guess- I guess a bit.”
You don’t reply, you just chew on your bottom lip, and Yoongi must take that as some kind of worry about him and his intentions because he says, “I’m not going to- like..” and you interrupt him by saying “No- No! I know-“ and then he interrupts you by saying “you wanna build a pillow wall?” and then it definitely is weird because you keep talking over each other, trying to make each other comfortable but your voices keep getting louder and more insistent and more rapid and neither of you are actually listening or even saying anything until you just - stop. And then you smile awkwardly at Yoongi from your cocoon. And Yoongi smiles back at you from his, but his eyes are kind, and crinkly, and it doesn’t feel so awkward when he’s doing it. And then you’re both laughing over nothing. His breath is warm even with the gap between you. Smells minty. It’s nice.
“You wanna just go to sleep?” he asks softly.
“Okay.” He smiles.
“Okay.” You smile back.
On the fifth night, you’re woken by Yoongi screaming your name.
“Get up! Fuck! Help me!”
You don’t even notice the water until your socks are wet. The cold, the wet, it stings, but you’re running - slipping - until you get to the bathroom, the source of both the water and the screaming.
He’s drenched. Completely. From head to toe. It takes a few seconds to register why.
“Why are you just fucking standing there?!” Yoongi screeches, gripping the pipe under the sink with a soaked towel. Despite his efforts, it’s spraying everywhere, catching him in the eye even though he’s craning his neck away. “Oh my god! The pipes froze! Help!”
“Fuck,” is the only stupid sound you can get out of your stupid mouth. “Fuck, Yoongi! What do I do?!”
Your hair is getting wet now too. The spray is coming from two directions, you realise - the sink and the shower. Shit.
“Turn off- ugh-turn off the water.” He tries to angle his face away from the spray, but it keeps hitting him in the eye, in his open mouth. “At the stoptap.”
“The- the what?”
Yoongi’s eyes grow wide, groans incredulously. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding?” Any other time you’d be offended, but your pyjamas are wet and it’s fucking freezing and right now you couldn’t give a shit about anything else so you just glare right back at him through the spray.
“Here,” he says with urgency, grabbing you by the wrist and manoeuvring your hands over the towel he’s wrapped around the pipe - for what little good it’s doing. “Hold this.”
He dashes off, faster than you’ve ever seen the man move leaving you to be hit in the face by the spray instead. A minute that feels like an hour later, the water slows to a fast drip.
“Did it work?!” Yoongi calls from what you think is the kitchen.
“Yeah!” You shout back.
You meet in the hallway, water trickling down your noses. You both stand there just looking at each other, panting, hair sticking to your foreheads. Cheeks red and hands redder.
Yoongi looks bothered. “Sorry,” he says. “For swearing at you. For shouting.”
“No- no it’s okay. I get it.”
He pushes his hair back from his eyes. Now isn’t the time to think about how pretty he is, but you do it anyway. And then he takes you by surprise, by stepping closer, reaching out, and tucking a lock of wet hair behind your ear. It’s such a small thing, insignificant really but it feels like something is happening and it’s too much. He’s looking at you. Looking. He’s so close, and his fingers are brushing your cheek and it’s too much. It’s intense. You look away. Down at the floor. Down at the floor that has quite literally turned into a paddling pool.
“It’s New Year’s Eve.”
“It’s like- three a.m on New Years Eve.”
You don’t know why you said that. But Yoongi’s not looking at you anymore. He’s looking at the floor too.
“Now what?” you ask, though the answer is obvious to anyone with an ounce of sensibility.
In the morning, you call in sick to the restaurant from Yoongi’s bed. There’s no way you could manage a twelve hour shift after a night of mopping and barely two hours sleep. Yoongi’s in the kitchen, you can hear him calling the bar. Your managers probably think you’re both faking, but that’s the last thing on your mind.
You’re replaying the moment. The moment it seemed like he was going to kiss you, and you made a terribly un-smooth attempt to break the tension. It’s not even like you’d never thought about kissing him. Maybe once or twice. Maybe more, if you’re honest. So why did you dodge?
Yoongi comes in with two steaming mugs. It’s basically all milk, he explains with a frown, seeing as the pipes are still burst and you can’t have the water on. He calls his friend Namjoon, who lives with his boyfriend just one block away, to explain what happened. Namjoon offers up the use of his shower to the both of you without Yoongi even having to ask. Everyone likes Yoongi. You like Yoongi. So why did you dodge?
Namjoon and Seokjin are disgustingly in love. That much is obvious as soon as you see them both together. You’d met them individually, briefly, in the months gone by - but seeing them together, it’s blindingly obvious why Yoongi had refused to move in with his best friends, instead choosing to stay in his shitty apartment with the shitty landlord.
Yoongi encourages you to shower first, Seokjin points the way for you. And God, it’s hard not to take your sweet time. You haven’t been this warm in nearly a week, and your skin is damp and hot by the time you emerge from the bathroom twenty minutes later.
The three men go quiet when the bathroom door clicks shut behind you. Too quiet. Namjoon’s smile is bright and friendly but he clearly plastered it on to disguise something else. Seokjin looks like he’s trying to stop himself from smiling at all, the corners of his lips twitching as his eyes dart from Yoongi to you, and back again. Yoongi just gathers up his things and heads past you into the bathroom.
Namjoon offers you a chair at the table, and Seokjin sets a bowl of porridge in front of you a moment later. While you eat, you try not to notice the way Seokjin keeps opening his mouth, and the way Namjoon keeps elbowing him, or poking his thigh or shaking his head. They are really, horribly, obvious, and they’re making it incredibly difficult not to laugh into the breakfast they’d so kindly made for you.
“I just want to say-“
“ Seokjin…”
“-that Yoongi is really happy with you-“
“your company as a roommate-”
“Uh-“ you start.
“You like living with him, right? He’s a good cook, and he’s good at fixing stuff-“
“Except the boiler,” says Namjoon with a laugh, which is silenced instantly with a sharp look from his boyfriend.
“-cause he’d be really sorry to lose you-“
“-as a roommate.”
Seokjin rolls his eyes. “-yes, yes, as a roommate,” he agrees but with air quotes. “Especially before he can tell you he’s in l-“
“Kim Seokjin!”
Seokjin ignores Namjoon’s admonishment. Just reaches out to lay his hand over yours. “You’re not going to move out, right?”
“Uhm,” you mumble around your porridge. You swallow to stall for time. Jesus Christ.
It’s New Year’s Eve, and you’re eating pizza in bed and watching TV. You should be working, and if not working then at some club with your friends. But here you are, with Min Yoongi, sharing a bed in a fancy hotel, apparently “a late Christmas present!” from his best friends.
Both of you had tried to refuse, but Seokjin, who you now understand to be sweetly manipulative with all the best intentions, insisted that the room would only go to waste if you didn’t take it. Taehyung knows a plumbing apprentice who’ll fix the pipes for cheap, but not for another few days. Namjoon and Seokjin have offered up their shower for use, and you’ll get by with bottled water for the dishes. For one blissful night though, you have a warm hotel room and a jacuzzi bath.
“They could’ve gotten us a twin.”
You look over at him. His ears are red again.
“Is this not okay? you say, voice tentative and small. “I can go, if you’re uncomfortable.”
Yoongi’s eyes catch yours at that, shakes his head. “I’m not. I thought you might be.”
You try to make your smile reassuring, and when Yoongi doesn’t look reassured in the slightest, you scoot closer and rest your head upon his shoulder.
“I’m comfortable. Okay?”
“Okay.” You glance at the mirror, catch his eyes trained on the top of your head and he’s smiling. He’s smiling so fond.
Outside, there’s fireworks.
“Happy New Year,” he whispers against your hair.
“Happy New Year, Yoongi.”
If you were braver, you’d kiss him.
It’s night seven, and Yoongi hasn’t stopped complaining. Maybe it’s because he’s nursing a cold. Maybe it’s because you’d had a taste of warmth and comfort at his friend’s home, and then the hotel, and then you had to come back here to this frozen place with no running water for the next three days.
His voice is thick with cold, and his throat must feel like razor blades like yours - but he’s still talking shit about the landlord and it’s driving you fucking mad. You just want to sleep. But Yoongi, for once, is far too chatty. At first you’d tried to reason with him.
“When he gets here I’m gonna turn the hose on him.”
“No you’re not.”
“I fucking am-“
“He’s not even gonna come.”
“Shit... Yeah, you’re right.”
“I’m gonna get a lawyer-“
“No. You’re not.”
“Yeah- and then we’ll sue-“
“Yoongi, we’re students. We don’t have the money for a lawyer.”
“Fuck. Fine. Okay.”
“I’m gonna find that cunts house and waterboard him in the middle of the night.”
“That’s too dark.”
“Yeah… Sorry, baby.”
“Nothing.” Yoongi coughs twice. “I’m very sick.”
“I’m gonna-“
That’s enough. That’s fucking enough.
“I swear to God, Min Yoongi,” you hiss from your cocoon. “If the next words out of your mouth aren’t I’m gonna go to sleep then I will drown you in that fucking bucket under the sink.”
“I thought you said waterboarding was too dark?”
It sounds like he’s teasing, but it’s pitch black and you can’t see if he’s smiling. You punch the burrito of a man lying next to you anyway.
“Oof,” he chuckles. “That might’ve actually hurt if I didn’t have all this padding.”
“I hate you tonight, Yoongi.”
“Will you like me tomorrow?”
“Maybe.” It’s hard to stay mad at him. “If you let me sleep.”
“Okay. I will. I’m sorry.” Sounds like he’s smiling. And then he does what he hasn’t done before, not even once this past week of sleeping in his bed. You feel the weight of his arm across the middle of your burrito cocoon duvet, wraps around, tugs you a little closer. Tugs you so close that you’re tucked under his chin. So close you’re sure he can feel your breath on his neck. And his voice soft, ever so gentle, “this okay?”
“Yeah,” you breathe. “S’okay.”
“Okay.” Sounds like he’s smiling. You let yourself smile too.
Jimin and Yoongi finally met tonight, at Hoseok’s birthday party. You’re just so pleased they’re getting along.
“What about you? What’re you doing after graduation?” The question is directed at Yoongi, you won’t finish your degree for another year. You turn to look at him with interest, because you hadn’t discussed that before. Why didn't you?
Yoongi gets a little faraway look in his eye at the question. “Norway.”
“Huh?” That doesn’t make sense.
“I wanna go to Norway. Study the architecture. Just for six months. A year at most.”
This doesn’t make any sense. “But you hate the cold.”
He’s only looking at you now. He could lean in, but he doesn’t. So polite. Maybe he doesn’t want to- in front of all these people. Maybe he doesn’t want to at all. The chatter carries on in the background. No one’s even paying attention.
“You look… really pretty.” It’s a poor attempt at a whisper.
“Yoongi,” you laugh, the Norway talk suddenly (almost) forgotten with the unexpected compliment. “You’re drunk.”
“Am not. If I’m drunk, you’re drunkerer,” he huffs, but he’s looping his arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap. “Smell pretty too. I like this top on you.” He runs a gentle hand up your arm, traces a finger across your necklace. You’re holding your breath. “Beautiful.”
He rests his chin upon your shoulder, and you lean back against his. Anyone at Hoseok’s party would be inclined to think you’re together, the way you’ve spent the whole time together on the sofa, laughing at jokes that no one else gets. It’s not cold here, in fact it’s awfully warm compared to what you’re used to now, but you’re huddled close all the same. So yes, everyone here thinks you and Yoongi are together. You’re inclined to let them think it.
You press a kiss to his cheek while the alcohol makes you brave.
“You’re pretty too, Yoongi.”
And he smiles so wide that it could split your heart right open. Lay it bare for everyone to see. God. You wish it would stay winter forever.
You wake up on that same sofa the next day, your head pounding in Yoongi’s lap. In Yoongi’s lap. One of his hands is in your hair, the other on your hip. He’s sleeping still, you think, and you twist to look up at him and that’s a mistake, because the movement makes him stir.
“Good morning.” His voice is nice when he wakes up, so deep and a little strained. You wanna keep this moment, where his hand moves to cup your cheek and you remember kissing his last night. Can’t remember now if he was calling you beautiful or your necklace. He definitely called you pretty, and that was… yeah. You want to hear him say it again. Sober.
“You wanna get breakfast before we go home?”
“Dressed like this?”
He laughs under his breath. “We’ll get take out, yeah? Movie day in bed?”
“Yeah.” You smile bright, he lights up. “Yeah okay!”
“Okay, lemme go say bye to Hobi.”
“What did you choose?” Yoongi asks when he climbs in next to you, his hair still a little damp from the shower. Smells like he stole your shampoo again. All citrusy, mixed with something deeper. You like it. Suits him.
“Hacksaw Ridge.”
“You wanna watch a war film at ten a.m on a Saturday. With a hangover?”
You grin. “Andrew Garfield is the actual love of my life. I’ll suffer for him.”
“Really?” Yoongi says, the tease evident in his tone. He’s trying not to smile. “The love of your life?”
“Celebrities are the easiest people to love,” you explain, taking a bite of your bagel.
Yoongi tips his head, amused. “How so?”
You weren’t expecting this conversation. Not hungover on a Saturday with the love of your life (Andrew Garfield) present. You swallow. “No pressure with celebrities. Nothing to ruin. Unless they turn out to be- like… a sex predator or something.” You point at Andrew Garfield who is holding a gun. “I think I’m safe with him.”
Everything goes really quiet for a second. Yoongi looks from you, to the TV, and down at the bagel on his lap. You can’t work him out when he goes quiet like this.
“What about-“ he starts, looking back at the TV and the love of your life, Andrew Garfield. “What about… people?”
“People you actually know. Are you safe with them?”
If he’s talking about Tae, or Jimin, or Siwoo, then yes. Yes because there’s no heartbreak there. You’re not too close. You can love them without expectation. If he’s talking about himself (more likely, you guess) then a few months ago, you would’ve said yes too, because he was just the sweet guy you lived with who helped you put up shelves. Now- it’s just… you can’t - you don’t know.
“I don’t know.”
Yoongi just looks at you blankly. A few seconds or a minute or ten pass and he’s just looking, eyes searching yours and you think you can hear your heart beating in your chest. Maybe it’s his. Maybe it belongs to both of you.
It gets louder, louder still and then you both seem to realise with a jolt that someone is at the door. Yoongi is faster, somehow, and he jumps out to answer it. You stay where you are, wondering if you should’ve just said yes, I’m safe with you because then he might’ve kissed you, and you can forget all about the love of your life, Andrew Garfield.
There’s raised voices down the hall, and you recognise the other as the landlord, showing up out of the blue but two months too late.
As it turns out, he’s scheduled to have the boiler replaced in ten days.
Yoongi is livid. Angry that he’s let you both suffer in the cold over the hardest winter in years.
“You know we had to share?! It was so fucking cold we had to the sleep in the same bed to keep warm.” There’s venom in his voice. The landlord deserves it but you hate it all the same. Had to.
The landlord says something indecipherable and Yoongi’s rage is palpable even from down the hall. “Don’t you get how inappropriate that is? That’s disgusting.”
On the TV Andrew Garfield tells Teresa Palmer I love you. You scowl.
“Shut up, Andrew.”
yoongi [19:22]: joon gave me a copy of the new spider-man movie, you wanna watch it tonight? : )
me [19:57]:       uh actually i think i’m gonna stay at sungho’s place. it’s his birthday party tonight
yoongi [20:03]: oh okay
yoongi [20:03]: wait sungho your ex boyfriend?
me [22:49]:        yeah
You don’t know why you came really. You could say it was because Tae begged, because he’s your best friend and he’s been complaining about missing you for months. But now Taehyung is gone, as he usually is at parties,  somewhere in this house, he’ll be in the arms of Jungkook. You’ve seen Sungho maybe twice, kissing his girlfriend of eight months on the cheek. You’d smiled at them, waved, and they waved back. They’re cute together. And you’re not having fun. You’d much rather be at home, tucked under Yoongi’s arm watching a movie from bed that neither of you really watch, as you had for the past several weeks.
Perhaps it’s because there’s less than a week of cold left, before the replacement, but last night… Last night was the hardest.
Yoongi was holding your hand, brushing your knuckles with a calloused thumb over, and over. And when you were both falling asleep, with the movie still playing, you’d curled around each other, limbs intertwined, finding warmth against the body of the other rather than within your respective duvets.
And when you woke up in his arms - your hands under his shirt, against his back and holding his body against yours, with his fingers curling under the hem of your top, brushing against the soft skin of your stomach - it was everything.
So you found yourself wishing you could wake up like that forever. But that hurt all the more, because how could it be forever when winter will give way to spring so soon? When the boiler will be replaced and your room will be habitable again. How could it be forever when Yoongi graduates in a few short months, and does what he said he would - move to fucking Norway or Sweden or some horrendously far away place, swapping one frozen home for another. And you’re left here another year, in this shitty apartment with the shitty landlord, and without the one person who keeps you warm at night with just his smile. How could it be forever when you’re letting him think you’re with your ex tonight? Who fucking does that?
Maybe you’re just scared.
me [17:12]:           i’m home! i’ll cook if you wanna watch spider-man tonight?
me [17:59]:           yoongi?
yoongi [21:22]:    pulling an all-nighter at the library with namjoon, feel free to watch it without me
That’s a lie. You know because Namjoon added you on Instagram, and he and Seokjin are teaching Jungkook how to ice-skate right now. But you lied too. Because a lie of omission is still a lie, right? So who are you to call Yoongi out?
Yoongi stays out the next night too. Blames his dissertation, says you’ll understand next year.
It’s bitterly cold without him. You say so and he doesn’t reply.
me [00:43]:       yoongi i miss you. please come home
He doesn’t read that one.
You really fucked up.
Today, he comes in the door just as you’re leaving for class. The lie clearly wasn’t about being up all night, the circles around his eyes say as much.
He brought two electric heaters with him. Explains in passing that one of them is for your room.
You’ve had the bed to yourself since Sungho’s party. Yoongi says he’s working on his dissertation. Which you know to be bullshit because he never works on anything for his degree until the week before it’s due. On the fourth night his side is left cold and empty, it’s too much of the wrong thing. So at two a.m, maybe three - you get back up, walk into the lounge where Yoongi sits on his laptop, with two empty cans of Red Bull at his feet.
“Why are you avoiding me?” You try to sound assertive, but the sound comes out small and pathetic. Because the truth is you know why he’s avoiding you, and you know it’s your fault.
“I’m not?” See, he makes it sound like a ridiculous question but he didn’t even look up. Avoiding even looking at you.
“Yoongi,” you start and he sighs, exasperated. “It’s been ages. Come to bed, stop pretending you’re working.”
“I am-“ you cut him off with a bark of incredulous laughter and he looks up at you, wide-eyed when you push his laptop firmly closed.
“No, you’re not.” Hot tears threaten to spill over if you don’t break the dam with your words first, so here goes. “You think you’re so fucking subtle sitting there typing away when you know I’m looking but I can see in the mirror that you’re on fucking discord with your friends.”
Yoongi, the idiot, turns to look at the mirror he seemingly forgot existed, despite him being the one to hang it.
“I know this thing we do only started because I was cold,” you reason, more to make sense of it all for yourself rather than for his benefit. “But it’s more than that for me, Yoongi. You’re more than just a warm body to sleep next to.”
He’s too quiet.
“You want me to sleep in my room again? You brought the heater, right? So I should? I don’t want to but I will.” An embarrassing noise threatens to make itself heard when Yoongi turns back to you, eyes huge and sad. “If you don’t want me around should I move out-”
“No.” Yoongi gapes. Opens and closes his mouth like a fish, a big dumb fish out of water. “I’m not angry. Don’t go- I’m really not.” And then he takes your hand, tugs you down into his lap. His hands are in your hair now, holding you against the crook of his neck but his T-shirt is wet against your face and it takes a few beats to realise the wet is coming from you, and then you’re sobbing and fuck, it’s so stupid. It’s embarrassing.
He’s stroking your hair now, peppering soft kisses against your temple, down your cheek, whispering in your ear, “don’t go, baby. Don’t cry. God, I’m sorry- I’m really sorry.” He waits for you to calm, for the tears to stop, and then he’s guiding you to stand, leading you back into his room.
He climbs in next to you, pulling one of your duvets over the both of you, and it’s hard to put into words how much that one small thing means. He wraps you up in his arms again, like the night he held you last. You press a kiss to his shoulder.
“You shouldn’t be sorry,” you say, when you find your voice again. “I let you think I was with someone else.”
Yoongi shakes his head as soon as you start talking. “Shh. Don’t explain. We’re not even toge- wait… let me think?”
You cringe. “Nothing happened. I just went to the party with Tae, we crashed in the lounge with a bunch of people. I was- I dunno. It- nothing happened, okay, Yoongi? I didn’t even want anything to happen. I wanted to be here.”
“Why weren’t you here?”
“Oh.” You hold your breath as your eyes rake over his blank expression. And then his face crumples and he holds you tighter, burying his nose in your hair. “I th- thought I made it clear, how much- and then you… baby I was so jealous. Shit .” He laughs then, bitterly, more at himself it seems, because his hand strokes down your hair, and tips up your chin. His dark eyes are intense on yours. “Are you scared now? I thought I misread everything. Or missed my chance. Did I?”
You shake your head.
“Hey,” Yoongi says, his voice deep, running a thumb over the apple of your cheek. “Use your words, yeah? Let’s not get this wrong again.”
“No, Yoongi, you didn’t misread anything,” you say, and he smiles, leans in, his breath ghosting your lips. “You didn’t miss your chance. I’d give you a thousand.”
“Still scared?” he murmurs.
“Yes,” you admit. “But I want us anyway.”
His smile is wide and beautiful. You love it. Love him. Dark eyes dart to your lips.
“Can I-”
And you’re kissing.
Outside, there should be fireworks. But there isn’t and it doesn’t matter because you’re kissing, and kissing has never felt this good.
➪ part 2: 400 words (that same night (morning?) cute fluffy nice stuff)
152 notes · View notes
moldgrowth · 6 months ago
do you need money? i (and likely others) would be happy to give you some
Generally, yes. Pretty badly.
Tl;dr: My veńmō is @smkzq3 🖤🖤🖤
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🔷 My partner and I are both trans guys, and I’m disabled. We’ve been living together since June.
🔸The monthly $794 SSI checks are nowhere near covering the cost of living even here in a relatively cheap small town.
🔸 My food stamps also got terminated 2 months ago for no reason and I’m still waiting for the decision on my reapplication. 🤪
🔸 So I’ve been working part-time despite my illnesses, which means I’m calling in sick often and of course then getting in trouble for it. 🙄 I’m getting paid less than $10.90/hr there btw.
🔸 I’m a student and even with financial aid tuition is going to be…difficult
🔸 My partner is also underpaid and we’re struggling to make rent and pay bills and buy groceries and medications + hormones. He’s forced to go without the therapy he needs because of the cost.
🔸 Our apartment we share is owned by extremely negligent landlords. 2 weeks ago our place was flooded with sewage water because the waste in every building in the complex backed up into our pipe. We had to run out buckets of excrement for hours. It took them a full week and a half to fix our floors and they never cleaned anything despite telling us it was not our responsibility. Plumber they hired told us he’s been to this unit a lot for the same problem and it’s going to happen again in the spring rains. Whole downstairs still has the sewer stench despite all our cleaning. (That’s just one example, the place has been full of problems from the jump, every week it’s something)
🔸 So long story short these are hazardous living conditions and we’re going to need to move again in the next few months at the latest. We may even move to KC. Either way that’s going to be a huge financial strain 💀
🔷 I’m also trying to save up for a hysterectomy (And wisdom teeth removal but that is less of a priority considering the debilitating physical/emotional pain having a uterus causes me)
There are all my bullet points. Anything someone’s willing to donate would help us survive!! And sharing is just as good if you don’t have the funds to pitch in yourself or just don’t want to.
🖤 Very grateful for any amount of help 🖤
269 notes · View notes
starryhyuck · a year ago
pride. (m)
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pairing: sugardaddy!xiaojun x reader
words: 4.7k+
summary: stacked with two jobs, tuition bills and rent payments, an opportunity falls into your lap that leaves you wanting more.
genre: fluff, smut
warnings: creampie, breeding kink, semi-public sex, oral sex, degradation, overstimulation
It all started before you hit rock bottom.
When you enrolled in college and decided to study music, your parents refused to pay for your tuition as they had hoped you would pursue law instead. You’ve been passionate about music since you were younger, and financial burdens were not going to hold you back from pursuing your dreams.
You spend most school nights working a low wage job, and switch to a different low wage job on the weekends. You hardly had time to balance studies and work, but in order to make ends meet, you fill your body with caffeine and call it a day.
You’re in the middle of wiping down the counter of the campus’s local ice cream parlor, ignoring the email you received from your landlord minutes ago. It was yet another warning notice to pay last month’s rent, a task you’ve been putting off for weeks.
There’s barely anyone who comes into the shop this late at night on a weekday, only a few who have a midnight craving they have to fulfill. You’re surprised when Doyeon comes barging into the shop at half past midnight, dressed to the nines in her custom Versace gown.
She sighs and throws herself down on one of the parlor chairs. “I feel sick to my stomach. Is it possible for your intestines to hurt so much from champagne?”
You laugh at her. Doyeon was your first friend when you came to campus, and you were blissfully unaware of how wealthy she was until three months into your friendship. Her mother recently remarried and Doyeon despised her stepdad, but she never had any complaints about the money he carried with him. Doyeon’s offered to pay off some of your loans so that you wouldn’t have to work two jobs, but you always turned down her offer. You couldn’t take money from her — you had to have a little bit of pride.
“What happened now? More sleazy old men hitting on you?” You question, leaning over the counter to ask her.
“You know me so well,” she sighs, her curled hair styled perfectly down her shoulders. She removes her heels for a bit so she can breathe. “And Doyoung was complaining the entire time, pissing off my mom. You know how my brother is.”
You’ve met Doyoung once or twice, and he was very similar to Doyeon — confident, smart and not afraid to speak what’s on his mind. Doyoung had a very difficult time adjusting to their mother’s new beau.
“You know what would be nice?” Doyeon asks, eyelashes fluttering at you. “If you come with me next time.”
“You know I can’t,” you decline, moving to check on the tubs of ice cream. “I’m too busy with work and school. Can’t leave for a night of luxury.”
“But you can,” she whines loudly. “Just let me pay your rent for last month and we’ll call it even!”
You roll your eyes. “I hardly call that even, Doyeon.”
She huffs. “Please? I can’t stand to go to another one of these things and listen to those snotty people tell me how lucky I am that my mom found that douchebag. You would make it so much more fun, and save me from a night of torture.”
For the first time, you’re contemplating Doyeon’s offer. You’ve known for a long time now that you’re running low on funds, and you’re scared that if you don’t find a way to pay your landlord, he’ll end up evicting you. Your eyes glance up to meet Doyeon’s, who has her puppy dog gaze turned on.
You sigh. “Just one event. That’s it.”
She squeals, and almost jumps over the counter to hug you.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you, thank you!”
You awkwardly pat her back. “Yeah, yeah.”
Doyeon failed to tell you that the event she was dragging you to would actually take place within a week.
You scrambled to find a dress and how to style your hair, knowing that if you showed up in an off-brand name, you would immediately look like an outcast. Doyeon saved you from the humiliation, shoving you into a Valentino dress that had your eyes rolling out of your head at the price tag. She also hired a hairstylist on the day of to come over and fix you up, which you clearly disagreed on until Doyeon told you it wasn’t up for debate.
And now, here you were, standing in the middle of the most luxurious place you’ve ever stepped foot in. Doyeon leans over to whisper to you while you’re eyeing the waiters and waitresses walking around with trays of champagne.
“Just smile and act like you only care about money.”
She tugs you forward and you try your best to match her pace. A girl approaches you two first, nails wrapped around the stem of her glass. She’s wearing one of the most beautiful gowns you’ve ever seen, a Chanel piece her mother imported for the event.
“Hyojung, you’re way too young to be drinking anything,” Doyeon scolds.
“Calm down, mom. No one’s snitching except you. Who have you brought?”
Doyeon beams and loops her arm through yours. “This is my friend from college.” She gives Hyojung your name and you offer your best smile.
Hyojung returns your grin. “Nice to meet you. Where do your parents work?”
Doyeon opens her mouth to tell Hyojung the truth, but you stop her.
“They own a few chain businesses in our hometown. Nothing too grand,” you inform. Hyojung nods in agreement, eyes darting somewhere else.
“Well, Chanwoo is here. I’m going to get the gossip that he owes me from last time.”
When Hyojung leaves, Doyeon frowns at you. “Why did you lie?” She questions.
You shrug. “I would rather not be a fish out of water here more than I already am. It’s better if people think I’m at least middle class.”
“Okay,” she says slowly. “You know I’m not ashamed of you, right?”
You giggle and pat her cheek. “Of course I know.”
“Finally!” You hear someone exclaim, and you turn to see Doyoung rushing over to the two of you. “Where the hell have you been? Mom’s going to murder you for showing up so late.”
Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Relax. We took a long time getting ready.”
Doyoung smiles gently at you before tugging his sister away. You feel even more awkward, hands folding together as you sway in the middle of the room. The people around you are talking animatedly and you can faintly hear the sound of the violin in the back of the room. You wonder if you should pretend to go to the bathroom or find somewhere to sit-
“Never seen you here before.”
You turn to see a guy your age, dressed in a full Armani suit and Rolex watch shining under the sparkling chandelier. You awkwardly clear your throat.
“Uh, yeah. My friend brought me. Do I look that weird?”
He chuckles, running a hand through his chestnut locks. “You look beautiful. I’ve just been to plenty of these galas before and I’ve pretty much memorized the guest list.”
Your heart lingers on his compliment and you avert your gaze.
“My first one. Are they always like this?”
“Boring, you mean?”
You laugh and he joins in. You swear you feel butterflies frantically flying in your stomach.
“So, what’s your story? Also have rich parents?” You ask.
He nods. “My mother owns half of the city’s major businesses. I’m Xiaojun, by the way.” You give him your name and he smiles, motioning to the back of the room. “Want to talk where it’s a little less loud?”
You agree, smiling and taking his arm as he leads you to the less chatty part of the room. You both sit on a luxurious velvet couch, a piece of furniture that most likely costs more than your entire apartment. Xiaojun hands you a glass of champagne, his smile taking your breath away.
“Tell me a little bit about yourself,” he muses, eyeing you carefully.
You laugh. “Is this a job interview?”
He shrugs. “Could be.”
Your eyebrows furrow at his answer, but you figure rich people were always weird and vague like that. “I go to the same college as Doyeon, and I’m studying music. Not really much to say, I spend most of my time working.”
He nods, and you can’t place what the look in his eye is for.
“Music, that’s interesting. What made you decide to take on such a daunting major?”
“Daunting as in it’s not law or business?” You counter, giving him a look.
He holds his hands up in surrender. “Hey, no judgment here. In my world, I haven’t met anyone who isn’t a law or business major. It’s nice to have a change of scenery.”
He challenges your gaze, and you feel a warmth in your stomach you haven’t felt in months. You jump when you hear the shriek of your name and Doyeon comes charging towards the two of you.
“There you are! Jesus, I had to hear Doyoung fight with my stepdad for almost ten minutes.” Her exasperation turns into surprise when she sees Xiaojun seated next to you. “Oh! Hey, Dejun. Didn’t see you there.”
He offers a smile. “Hi, Doyeon.”
“Do you mind if I pull her away for a bit?” Doyeon asks, but she’s already looped your arm through hers. You slightly protest when she tugs you away from Xiaojun, but you’re immediately distracted by her next question. “What the hell were you doing talking to him? You know what Xiaojun is famous for, right?”
You frown, looking over your shoulder again to see him, watching as his line of sight carefully follows you and Doyeon.
“No, I don’t. He seemed nice. What’s the issue?”
Doyeon rolls her eyes. “He’s a sugar daddy. Always looking for new sugar babies to satisfy him. He’s been blowing through girls like the wind for the past year. He’s not good, and I don’t want you in his company without me.”
You try to process that the man you were just talking to was, in fact, scoping you out to get a potential new sugar baby. You can’t wrap your mind around it, even when Doyeon drags you to the corner of the room, where Doyoung and her stepdad are still fighting.
Your eyes linger on Xiaojun’s table, but he’s already long gone.
“Nice shop you got here.”
You practically jump out of your shoes at the sound of the familiar voice, almost spilling a cup of ice cream down your front. You nearly get whiplash with how fast you spin around, eyes widening at the sight of Xiaojun standing in the middle of the ice cream shop. Your manager, Seojeong, raises an eyebrow at your skittish nature.
“Is there a problem here?” She questions, but you immediately brush her off.
“No, no problem!” You squeak. You immediately rush over the counter and push Xiaojun out of the shop. “Seojeong, I’m taking my 15!”
“Um, okay?”
Once you’ve got Xiaojun on the street, you take notice of what he’s wearing - another dark Armani suit, same Rolex watch, and hair styled in a way that’s meant to make your panties drop. You push back your thoughts and whisper harshly to him.
“I know why you’re here.”
He raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Do you now?”
“Yes, I do,” you state confidently, tilting your chin up. “Doyeon told me about your little sugar daddy scheme.”
He laughs. “Ah, is that what they’re calling it now? Didn’t realize I was such a bad guy for wanting to help out girls in bad situations.”
You scoff. “Do you get off on this? Lowering yourself to the underprivileged lives of the poor? Pretending to be the hero that saves the damsel in distress?”
He snickers at your line of questioning, shoving his hands in his pockets and eyeing you. He leans down so that you’re face to face, and you falter as he becomes closer to you.
“And if I do? What if I like giving you money so you don’t have to work two jobs?”
“How do you know I have two jobs?” You inquire.
“You looked so lost at that gala. I told you I’ve memorized the guest list — you’ve never been on it. It became relatively easy to discover the rest of the details. It must be exhausting doing this everyday, haven’t you ever wanted a break?”
You fold your arms across your chest and take a step away from him. “What’s in it for you?”
He grins. “The pleasure of your company.”
“What kind of company?” You ask, doubting him. You won’t lie and say the offer isn’t intriguing to you. You still have pride, definitely, but the weight of two jobs has really taken a toll on you lately. Plus, Doyeon said Xiaojun breezes through girls anyways. You could get a break from paying your rent for a few months and before you know it, he’ll move onto the next charity case he wants to help out.
There’s no harm in that, right?
Your thoughts are blown through the window, however, when his smirk grows wider. You’re sure there’s a large damp spot in your underwear right now.
“Whatever company you like, little one.”
You’re fucked.
You keep the relationship with Xiaojun quiet and under wraps. You know Doyeon would have many thoughts about your choice, and she would probably convince you to let her pay your bills instead of Xiaojun. You couldn’t place that burden on her shoulders.
Surprisingly, Xiaojun doesn’t ask for much. He swings by the ice cream parlor once a week, drops off a $1000 check, stays to chat for a little, and leaves. Seojeong doesn’t raise any questions, albeit you’ve seen her glance at the envelope you leave in the back room. You would’ve thought that Xiaojun is the type of guy who invites you over to his penthouse apartment to get to know him, but he’s been quite reserved. He never crosses the line with you, and his questioning stays on the topic of your classes and work. You continuously wonder how to captivate his attention and if the other girls before you failed to do so.
About a month into the deal, your patience wears thin. You’re not even really sure why you’re frustrated in the first place. Anyone would love a no strings attached deal like this, getting $1000 every week with barely any commitment. You quit your other job because you don’t need both paychecks now and you’ve been able to keep up on rent. However, a part of you expected to be close with Xiaojun in some way at this point, especially considering the way he was flirting with you when he first propositioned this.
You’re fully prepared to confront him on Friday night, the same day he usually drops off the check and chats with you for a bit. You practically throw yourself over the counter when he takes a step inside the shop, yelling over your shoulder to Seojeong that you’re taking your break.
Xiaojun laughs at your eagerness, allowing you to tug on his suit as you pull him outside.
“Someone’s excited today. Need the check that badly?”
You frown at the accusation and exhale. “No, as a matter of fact, the money you’ve given me so far could probably cover me for a year.”
“Then what’s with the frowny face?”
“There’s a catch here, Xiaojun, I know there is. You’ve been too nice,” you say, waving a finger at him.
He smirks. “Have I been? I told you, little one, all I need is your company. You’ve given that to me every week, haven’t you?”
You scoff. “Barely. We talk for a few minutes while I’m making orders for other customers and then you leave. I would hardly call that company.”
He gets even cockier, if that was humanly possible. Xiaojun has to know what he’s doing to you — the mystery of his true personality starting to make you curious.
Similar to your first meeting, he leans down until he’s a few inches from your face, eyebrow raised. “Didn’t mean to neglect you, little one. Did you want more from me?”
You shift awkwardly, tension building in your stomach from his words. He was clearly teasing you and his patience was stronger than you previously believed. He waited a month just to have you desperate like this, wanting something more than a few minutes of his time. You’re so wet at this point that you’re definitive Xiaojun knows.
To prove your point, his smirk grows wider. “What are you doing after your shift?”
“U-Um, I have some homework to finish-“
“Great, I’ll pick you up after work and you can finish it at my apartment.” He doesn’t give you any time to protest, moving closer to you, his breath hitting the shell of your ear. “Next time, little one, just tell me you need more attention. Daddy will gladly give it to you.”
You’re a nervous wreck when Xiaojun’s expensive Rolls-Royce pulls up to the curb after your shift has ended. His car looks terribly out of place on the streets of your dirty campus, but he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. You quickly get in and ask him to go before anyone can recognize you.
The ride to his apartment in the upper part of town is filled with silence, making you even more jittery. Xiaojun, on the other hand, is calm and collected with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the console. You try to swallow your nerves and reason with yourself.
This is just Xiaojun — son of a multimillionaire, heir to many respective companies within the city. This is just Xiaojun — the man who’s been giving you $1000 every week with no strings attached, the man who’s clouded your dreams for the past month on more than one occasion.
Unfortunately, you don’t have any more time to dwell on your thoughts when Xiaojun pulls up to the parking garage of his complex. The both of you exit the car and he hands the keys to one of the valet drivers. His fingers fall to the small of your back as he guides you inside.
You try to avoid the blatant stares from other residents. You’re still dressed in your work clothes, a simple t-shirt and pair of jeans, but you couldn’t look more like a fish out of water. Xiaojun doesn’t seem to mind, walking into the elevator and pressing the top floor button. You ride the elevator in silence, and your eyes nearly fall out of your head when you reach the penthouse.
The apartment is straight out of the movies. The decor is extravagant, and you’re afraid if you touch anything, you’ll have to pay a fine. Xiaojun leads you to the dining room, pulling out a chair for you, despite your confusion.
“You can finish your homework here. I’ll be in the study upstairs.”
“Wait wait wait,” you stop him, placing a hand on his chest. “You’re leaving?”
He grins. “Did you want me to stay?”
He was really going to make you beg for it. Your eyes narrow and you feel a burst of confidence run through you. You tilt your head up until you’re a few centimeters from his mouth.
“You said Daddy would give me more attention if I asked for it.”
He growls, eyes darkening. Before you know it, he has you pinned to the grand table, staring at you as if you’re his last meal. It’s your turn to smirk as his control snaps, fingers digging into your hips roughly.
“Think it’s fun to test me? The other girls before you were more behaved,” he hisses, eyes wandering to the valley of your breasts.
“But you don’t like that, do you? You like it when they disobey,” you murmur, pulling him closer to you. “You like giving them their punishment.”
Xiaojun’s lips are pressed to yours before you can even fully register what’s going on, his body locking you against the wood. You whimper, hands gripping his forearm to keep steady. It’s messy and frantic, and you can see all of the built up tension starting to show.
“What would Doyeon think of you whoring yourself out for money?” He snickers, making you feel small under his gaze. “I bet she would be so ashamed. Little one gave up her pride for a few thousand dollars?”
You whine. “It’s not like that.”
“But isn’t it?” He questions you, fingers unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them down your legs. You wish you had worn a sexier pair of panties today but Xiaojun seems satisfied nonetheless, snapping the elastic against your skin. “Can’t wait to get a taste of this cunt. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it, little one?”
You probably look pathetic like this — half of your body sprawled across Xiaojun’s dining table, pants around your ankles, and a large wet spot ruining the fabric of your underwear. You pitifully nod in response to his question, eyes locked on the bulge straining against his expensive trousers. He chuckles when he follows your line of sight.
You fall into the role so easily. “Yes, Daddy.”
He directs you on your knees, the cold marble floor sending a shiver up your spine. You eagerly watch him unbuckle his belt and exposing his leaking cock for you. The tip is red and angry, demanding to be touched.
“Go ahead, little one. Make Daddy feel good.”
You wrap your mouth around the tip, nearly moaning at the taste of him. You haven’t been intimate with someone in so long and his cock has your mouth watering.
“Good girl,” he soothes, pushing his cock further down your throat. Tears immediately spring into your eyes when he ignores your gag reflex, hands gripping the back of your head as he guided you. “Shh, doing so well for me, little one.”
You allow him to fuck your mouth, trying to brush aside the tears falling down your face and saliva pooling at the sides of your mouth. It’s filthy and you love it — you haven’t been used like this in months and you never realized how much you missed it.
“Your mouth is so perfect, fuck,” he groans. “I’ll pay for anything you want if you stay on your knees like this, all pretty for me.”
You gasp when he lets you breathe, pulling his cock away. He chuckles at you, fingers returning to stroke himself as he watches you regain yourself. He tugs you back on your feet, overlooking your wobbly legs and pushing you into the living room. You’re about to question him on what he’s doing until he’s shoving you up against his glass window. You gaze downwards, seeing a plethora of people passing by on the street and cars honking to one another. It’s a view you only see in the movies, and you know Xiaojun’s eager to fuck you into the fantasy.
His fingers slide into your underwear, breath hot against your neck. “Look at all of them down there, little one. Bet they want to be just like you, fucked so good for everyone to see. Even better when I cum inside you, hm?”
You freeze. “D-Daddy,” you whisper frantically. “I’m not on the pill.”
He’s silent behind your figure before you feel him playing with your folds, your wetness coating his hand.
“Isn’t that nice? What do you think of getting knocked up, little one? This entire place could be yours, you would never have to step foot in that ice cream shop again. All the wealth you never imagined, you could spend all day in bed with me while I stuff you full. You would look so pretty on Daddy’s arm. I wonder how many times we could sneak away from the crowd so I could fuck my cock into you. Wouldn’t that be a dream?”
You gasp, growing wetter by the second. He easily slides a finger into your heat and all common sense is thrown out of the window.
“Please fuck me, Daddy,” you beg. “Please please please. I’ll be good for you, I promise.”
He laughs at your desperation, pushing another digit inside. “Even though you’re not on the pill? How filthy of you, little one.”
It’s sick. You barely know this man but all you want is his cum inside you. You can imagine the headlines now — Millionaire’s Son Gets Poor Girl Pregnant. But you want it. You want it so badly.
You hear the tearing of your panties but you couldn’t give a fuck what happens to them, pushing yourself further into him. He laughs again at you, tip lining up to your entrance.
“Beg for it.”
You cry. “Please, Daddy! I want it, I’ve been so good for you! I’ll let you cum inside me and everyone can watch. I want them to see who I belong to.”
“Fuck,” he growls at your submission. You nearly scream when he pushes into you, his girth bigger and thicker than you’ve ever taken before. On top of that, you haven’t had sex in months and the stretch is almost unbearable. Your head rolls back but Xiaojun grips your chin and forces you to look outside the window. “Look at all those people, little one. They’re about to get a nice show.”
He gives you no time to adjust, thrusting into you like he wants to break you. His fingers tangle into your hair and he pulls roughly, causing you to yelp at the pain. You’re past the point of coherent thinking, Xiaojun’s cock fucking you so good you can barely talk.
“Good, little one?”
“Mmf,” you gurgle, gasping at the force of his movements. You can feel him in your throat, and it’s as if he’s waited all these weeks just to spill his seed into you.
You tumble over the edge when he pinches your clit, whispering the dirtiest confessions into your ear. “Needy whore,” he laughed sinisterly. “Probably can’t go a day without my cock after this. Going to be begging me for it, wanting me all the time now. I can’t wait to take you everywhere and anywhere I please. I’ll buy you so many cute outfits, little one. So many skirts that make it easy for me to slide right inside and fuck you until you’re crying for me.”
You clench around his cock and fall over the edge, your wetness spilling down your thighs.
“Daddy,” you breathlessly hiss, body going limp in his arms.
“You came so much for me, little one. Your slutty cunt is so good for me, isn’t it?”
“Please, Daddy,” you plead. “Please, Daddy. I want to feel your cum.”
“Yeah?” He grunts, the sound of his balls repeatedly slapping against your pussy echoes around the room. “You wanna get pregnant? All baby wants is a big fat cock to stuff her full of cum, hm?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” you cry out, not even caring how pitiful you look at this point. “Want it so badly.”
Your desperation snaps the cord inside of him and he spills every last drop into you. You whimper at the warm feeling, some of his cum starting to drip out and coat the inside of your thighs. You both attempt to catch your breaths, your legs feeling like jelly.
You’re about to move away from him until Xiaojun keeps you pinned to the window, stopping you from leaving.
“W-What are y-you doing?” You ask, still out of breath from the fucking you just received.
“I don’t think that was the one,” he muses, eyes locked on where you two are intertwined. He offers an experimental thrust that has you scrambling.
“No, no,” you sniffle, trying to move away from him again. “I can’t, I can’t.”
“I think you can,” he chuckles, enjoying the way your cunt wraps so nicely around his cock. “And you will. Haven’t gotten you pregnant yet, little one.”
You spend hours fucking like bunnies with Xiaojun taking you on almost every surface of his apartment. You don’t even care that you’re impregnated, allowing him to use you in any way he pleases while the sun falls under the skyline.
Your pride didn’t matter that much anyways.
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dreamescapeswriting · a year ago
Stray Kids Reaction || He Thinks You’re Cheating [Request]
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Trust was everything in your relationship between you and Chan, you trusted him to go off and tour the world and you thought he trusted you to be loyal to him but lately, he'd been acting so odd around you. Since you were working more often than not lately it had been getting harder to spend time with your boyfriend who was already busy enough without you throwing your schedule into the mix. 
"You've been working all week and you're telling me you don't have the weekend off?" You could hear just how annoyed he was about you cancelling your weekend together but you couldn't help it when your boss was behind which meant your whole department was behind and had to stay to help him out.
"My boss is behind Chan, you know what that means." You sighed as you tried to get it through to him but he just began sighing and shaking his head despite you not being in the same room as him, 
"I do, it means my own girlfriend is making excuses. Look, if you're sleeping with the guy let me know so I can get over this quickly," He snapped before hanging up the phone leaving you shocked as you stared down at the mobile in your hands, instead of staying to work you made an excuse of being sick and left without another word. Heading straight to the dorms to figure this out with Chan, there was no way he could get away with accusing you of something like that and leaving without another word. 
"You think I would cheat on you?" You questioned as you walked through the door, he was home alone as he glanced up from his laptop, 
"You've decided to grace me with your presence!" The sarcasm oozed from his voice as you rolled your eyes at him, you didn't want this to turn into some stupid fight that was over nothing. 
"There's nothing going on between me and my boss," You spoke calmly knowing that if you got angry he would double down on his thoughts about cheating. 
"Please, all that time you spend with him? All the 'extra hours'." He said sarcastically as he air quoted his words but you shook your head, sitting down on the sofa and sighing as he continued to rant about all the time you'd been spending at work lately but you couldn't hold it back anymore. 
"I work all the time because I need to pay my bills Chan! My stupid landlord raised my rent and I can't afford it!" You finally cried out, admitting to him that you were struggling with money as tears ran down your face,
"I would never cheat on you, I would never do anything to hurt you," You sobbed into your hands as you finally broke down, the weight of being almost kicked out and dumped hitting you all at once but as soon as Chan saw you crying he cradled you in his arms.
"Y/n I'm so sorry, I-I didn't think." He whispered as he continued to soothe you, rubbing your back as you cried into his arms.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He whispered as he rocked you back and forth,
"I didn't want you to try and help, you always try and give me money you know I can't take," You sniffled as he held you closer to him, not letting you go for even a second as he rocked you. 
"Then how about I don't give you money...I-I buy us a place together..." He suggested as he pulled away to look into your eyes, you frowned wondering if he meant it but he smiled at you and that smile could relax you every moment of every day. 
"Think about it first," He whispered, kissing you softly before going to make you a hot drink and get you some food.
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It came as no surprise to you when Minho thought you were cheating on him with one of his members, you were close with all of the boys but Minho was a little insecure when it came to relationships but you didn't blame him since his ex cheated on him. 
"Do you really think I would do that to you?" You questioned as he sat across from you on the bed in his bedroom, Felix and you had been asleep on the sofa together when he walked in. 
"I-I don't know, yes." He was stuttering as he spoke to you and you knew it was past experiences clouding his judgement so you couldn't hold it against him, 
"I walked in and you were asleep...H-He had his arm around you, you were snuggled against him and I-"
"We fell asleep watching a movie Minnie," You cooed as you reached out to touch him, trying to relax him but he moved his hand away from yours and shook his head. 
"You never cuddle like that, if he's just a friend you shouldn't have cuddled like that," You knew it looked bad to someone who had been in a situation where they had been cheated on before and you knew there was nothing you could say to him that would put his mind at ease.
"There would never be anything between Lix and I, he's like a little brother to me." You whispered as you nudged his hand, taking it into yours and locking your fingers together as he sighed. 
"She's right...We didn't mean to sleep like that, we were watching a movie and we just got too comfortable," Minho looked at you both and then back to looking at just you, searching in your eyes for any indication that you were lying, he knew you were never a very good liar and as soon as he saw how upset you were he hugged you. 
"I'm sorry." He whispered over and over again while you tried to convince him that it was fine, he didn't outright accuse you and that you understood why he was so scared about it. 
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Changbin wasn't normally the over protective snoop through your phone kind of guy but as of late he'd been getting anxious about your relationship, whenever you were together you were always on your phone, laughing or smiling at it while you text back and forth with someone and whenever Changbin would ask what it was about you would shoot him down but he'd had enough of it, he needed to make sure you weren't cheating on him. 
"Binnie?" You gasped as you walked back into the bedroom to find him trying to unlock your phone but it looked as though he didn't know the password to your phone as he struggled,
"What are you doing?" You snatched your phone away from him placing it down onto the bed as you stared at him waiting for some kind of excuse but he was done,
"I want to know who you've been texting so much, who's making you smile this much..." You could hear the hurt in his voice as he said it to you, you knew he'd been desperate to see what you were doing but it was supposed to be a surprise, 
"It's no one Binnie, please just sit down." You tried to calm him but he stepped away from you shaking his head as tears welled up in his eyes, 
"No, you're cheating on me...Aren't you? That's the reason you hide your phone and you're always laughing and smiling at it." He was blowing everything out of proportion and you knew that it was only going to get worse the more you denied it or told him that he was imagining things.
"Don't tell me I'm imagining it, I'm not. I see you all of the time," You knew how bad it must have looked so you sighed at him, shaking your head as you handed him your phone. 
"The password is your birthday," You whispered waiting for him to see who you had been texting all of this time behind his back and you saw the blush creep onto his cheeks. 
"Wooyoung and I were planning on bringing him to the dorms to surprise you," You admitted as he read through the messages, finding memes of Changbin back and forth to one another, 
"See...Nothing is going on behind your back but you better act surprised when Wooyoung gets here tomorrow," You pouted as you sat down on the bed with Changbin, he hugged you tightly whispering to you how sorry he was for accusing you of something so harsh.
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Hyunjin had been under the impression that when you said that you were going to lunch with a coworker it meant you were going to be with another female co-worker but when he walked by your local cafe to see you sitting with another man he freaked out in the inside, coming up with all the ways you would be cheating on him. 
"You're being overdramatic, I would never cheat on you least of all with Rylan," You laughed at the thought of it but Hyunjin wasn't finding any of this funny, all he could picture was you and Rylan sitting so close to one another, you were almost sitting in his lap. 
"You could have been kissing him! You were practically sat on him!" He yelled out making you roll your eyes, you knew Hyunjin was dramatic but you didn't expect him to overdramatise everything that happened in your life.
"There wasn't much space, I sat close to him so a woman with a baby could get in," You tried to defend yourself but Hyunjin was already clear in his mind what was happening behind his back even if it wasn't true. 
"So you just so happened not to tell me you were going out with a male for lunch?"
"I didn't think it was a big deal, you eat with girls at work all of the time and I don't get jealous and accuse you of cheating," You snapped as he stared at you, scoffing at the thought.
"Because I would never-"
"Neither would I," You cut him off before laughing to yourself at the thought of Rylan asking you on a date, 
"What's so funny?" Hyunjin mumbled as he looked at you but you shook your head, 
"It's just Rylan...I'm not really his type." You laughed again but Hyunjin still wasn't laughing, 
"You're more of his type..." As soon as the words left your mouth a blush crept onto Hyunjin's cheeks as he realised what you meant and you smiled. 
"S-So you're not-"
"No, I'm not." You laughed again and this time Hyunjin nervously joined in as you shook your head at him, giving him a kiss as you smiled weakly. 
"You have to trust me," You whispered, locking your hands together as he nodded his head at you.
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Jisung's whole body froze as he stared down into the bin in your bathroom, he felt sick to his core as he saw the three pregnancy sticks poking out from the bin. Neither of you had been together intimately yet so he was going through every emotion in his body at the thought of you sleeping with someone else when you were supposed to be with him.
"Can you find it?" You laughed as Jisung didn't come straight back from the bathroom, he'd headed in there to get you the first aid kit so you could have a plaster for a small papercut but when he didn't respond you giggled and went hunting for him,
"Did you get lost? You practically live in my apartment you couldn't have gotten lost," All the while Jisung's eyes began to fill with tears as he saw the three positive tests sitting there,
"Babe? Everything okay?" You giggled walking into the bathroom and froze in place when you caught what he was looking at but you knew where his mind was going to go if it wasn't already there.
"I can explain-"
"How you have three pregnancy tests in your bin when we haven't had sex and been dating for two months...Go on. Explain that one to me." You knew where his mind was but you couldn't let him believe for one second that they were yours, you'd only bought them but you didn't take them.
"They're not mine," He scoffed as he tried to move past you to get out of your small bathroom but you wouldn't move out of his way not wanting him to believe that it was yours and storm off in the other direction. 
"That's the oldest excuse in the book," He mumbled still attempting to move away from you and ignore you but you grabbed onto his hand pleading with him to stay with you but he was already set in his way. 
"They're not mine! I promise, my friend came around earlier and she took three," You pulled at his hand to try and make him believe you but he wouldn't look at you, 
"Jisung, you know I can't lie to you. You know when I'm lying look at me," You begged but he struggled out of your grasp and began making his way to your apartment door when it opened suddenly and your best friend stormed her way in, 
"I need another one, I don't....It can be wrong three times right!" She cried out as she walked into the bathroom with another pregnancy test in her hand, you stared up at Jisung who was a little shocked. 
"They really aren't yours?" You shook your head as you walked over to him, looking into his eyes and pouting when you saw how much he had been crying. 
"I would never do anything to hurt you Jisung...I'm in love with you and only you," You whispered to him as you stood up on your tip-toes to kiss him, pulling away when you heard the toilet flushing. 
"Go and make a hot drink? I need to calm her down." You whispered to him as you patted his chest softly. 
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Rumours were everywhere in the industry and hard to be avoided especially when you were dating someone who was in a popular K-pop band, while you were someone who just introduced acts on Korean variety shows normally you and Felix would do your best to ignore the rumours but lately they'd gotten worse. Branching for a hidden pregnancy to you cheating on Felix with another band member but you knew it was to get attention for the new show the boys were taking part in. Felix had come backstage accusing you of sleeping with Wooyoung when he saw the articles, he wanted you to be honest with him but when you tried he shot you down.
"Don't be an idiot Felix, why would I ever sleep with someone else?" You questioned as you stood backstage at the music core set getting ready to go on stage with Hyunjin but Felix was being paranoid, 
"So I'm an idiot?!" You sighed as you heard him say this, you knew he was angry and just blowing everything out of proportion, that morning there had been an article claiming that you were dating Member Wooyoung from Ateez which couldn't have been further from the truth. The two of you were long term friends and your friendship grew closer since you and Changbin were also close with one another. 
"Lixie, I would never cheat on you. Wooyoung is a friend," You whispered as you tried to kiss his cheek but he moved out of the way so that you would miss, 
"Lix...Do you really think I would go behind your back on something like this?" The look on his face made your heart feel like it was breaking into pieces, he shouldn't have to think about it he should just know you would never even think of cheating on him.
"I've got to go," You mumbled as they began calling your name, you moved away from him and headed onto the stage, putting on the biggest smile you could manage before presenting. 
The show ended and Felix was still standing in your changing room but you didn't want to fight with him over something that wasn't real and you didn't want to start something now. 
"Look. I haven't cheated on you, the closest I've ever been is when I had a dream I kissed the monopoly man but that's it Lixie...You have to believe me that there is nothing going on between me and Wooyoung." He nodded his head as he got up from the sofa and hugged you tightly in his arms, apologising for believing in the rumours when he should have believed you first.
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"What do you expect me to do!?" Seungmin yelled from across the living room of your shared apartment, he'd walked into the apartment to find you and Jeongin sitting close to one another and acting suspiciously as soon as he came home.
"Trust me! Trust me enough to know I would never cheat on you," You yelled back at him hoping he would see how hurt you were from the accusation but he was past seeing how hurt you were, he could feel his heart breaking at the thought of you sleeping with Jeongin behind his back. 
"I should have seen it coming! You're always so close with one another, laughing and joking about things, having secrets!" You rolled your eyes as he listed things that all friends did with one another but because it was you and Jeongin it obviously meant there was something else going on between you when there clearly wasn't.
"He's a friend Seungmin, you're being ridiculous," You sighed as you looked up at him but he was still shaking his head, thinking of all the signs he should have seen before it got to this point.
"Do you guys sleep together behind my back? Do you sneak around to the dorms to see him when I'm not there?!"
"Enough!" You finally screamed out, throwing your hands up into the air as you stormed away from Seungmin, grabbing the plans you and Jeongin had been working on for months. 
"You want to know what we've been doing?!" You snapped, storming back into the living room and dropping the papers onto the coffee table so he could see everything laid out in front of him, 
"That! We've been planning a surprise birthday party for you," You yelled as you showed him all of the documents of what you had planned, the room you'd booked, the invitations, the guests, everything was there in black and white for him and you saw the look of regret hit his face. 
"So no, I'm not cheating on you with one of your best friends, we were trying to do something nice for you." As soon as the realisation hit him was when he began to apologise for ruining the plans and accusing you of cheating on him, telling you that he would pretend to be as surprised as he could on the day of the party.
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"It's nothing, you're taking things out of context," You tried to tell your boyfriend as he continued to pace back and forth in your living room, he was red in the face with anger and had been since he'd seen photos of you hugging and kissing another man,
"They saw you! They saw you hug and kiss him!" Jeongin yelled as you stared up at him from your apartment sofa, he'd come to your apartment after you'd dropped your cousin off at the airport. Fans and reporters had seen you kiss your cousin and put two and two together to get five as they began spreading rumours of you sleeping and dating someone else that wasn't Jeongin. 
"Jeongin...Please," You sighed rubbing your temples as your headache was beginning to set in from all the yelling he was doing, Jeongin had no idea who the boy in the photos was but he was upset when he saw the photos of you kissing the guy. His mind instantly clicking to your cheating on him instead of looking at the larger picture when you'd previously told him you were spending the weekend with your cousin, 
"You could have just told me you wanted to see other people! It would have hurt a lot less," The way his voice broke, broke your heart and you rushed to him hugging him tightly as you tried to reassure him that it was nothing. He sat down on the edge of the sofa crying into your arms as you held onto him tightly kissing his cheeks,
"He's my cousin, I kissed his cheek, he hugged me and that is all because he's my cousin." You repeated it over and over again until he finally began to believe you, you knew how hard it must have been with all of the rumours and photos that made it look like something it wasn't so you weren't going to hold it against him, 
"I love you Innie...Nothing happened, I promise." You kissed his lips softly and he kissed you back, apologising for even accusing you of something like that.
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Tagline: @taestannie​ @sw33tnight​ @acciocriativity​ @mwitsmejk​ @minholuvs​
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lucifinelovestruck · 7 days ago
Hey darlings, that thing that I went and disappeared to try and solve by myself? Turns out I can't really solve it by myself.
There's a much longer explanation for what's going on at this link, but the long and short of it is:
We live in a state that protects landlords, not renters, and our landlords are a corporation, not people. Our apartment has been in a state of disrepair since we moved in back in 2019, barely worth the $900/mo we pay for it, but because we lost our jobs and turned to freelancing during the pandemic, we haven't been able to save up to move. Now that the pandemic protections for renters have dropped, our apartment is suddenly raising our rent by $350-- and withheld our recertification until the last minute, so we didn't know until just about a week ago. We can't afford a rent of $1248, and we can no longer stay here.
After July 31st we will be evicted. We have quite a few options and just incredibly kind offers that may work, but are still working on a plan; we might have places we can go, but we have absolutely no money with which to get there.
Due to my injury last month we are still working on paying bills from April/May and so any commissions I'm collecting now (like in my waitlist) already have to go toward those bills (or to June's rent if we can't get out of here by the 31st) and not toward moving. Basically, we need help getting out of here and we need it bad.
We are scrimpers and savers, already planning to get rid of much of our stuff to make this as easy as possible, and are low-balling a goal of $3k. We will make whatever we can get work, but feel we will be safe if we can just make that goal, as $3k would be able to pay the application fees on a different low-income apartment in our area as well as at least a month of rent while still leaving enough money to rent a vehicle to move out.
If you're not cool with donating, the fundraiser includes links to ways to support me otherwise-- either by checking out my shop on Etsy or becoming a Patron to get access to all my art without watermarks ahead of everyone else.
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