#only alcohol cause I'm shit scared of drugs
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Shelter Me
Pt. One, (||)
Pairing: Eddie x Fem!Reader, Wayne is also heavily involved in this one.
Warning: Mentions of abuse (father is abusive to reader), drugs are mentioned, alcohol use, mentions of self harm. Buckle up, babes, it's a bit bumpy here.
"Just give me the goddamn drugs, Eddie. I swear, I'm fine."
Eddie is watching your shivering, wet body on the couch as he bites his lip and shakes his head. This would be the third time in a month you've come to his trailer while Wayne was away, the third time with fresh purple bruising on your face and neck. He was scared to ask where else they may be, but tonight he was refusing until you talked to him.
You were still new to the park but everyone could hear the yelling and crashing of items at the trashy trailer. They could see you scrambling out of the bedroom window late into the night, only to return when the sun began to rise.
"I'm not giving you a damn thing until you tell me what the hell is going on." He swears your name and slams a hand on the table with frustration, causing you to jump up with alarm. Your sleeve rides up your arm during that time and Eddie can see fresh cuts and a fresh ring of a bruise as well.
He sighs deeply and stands up, walking to the window and looks outside to see the heavy rain pouring down like wicked cats and dogs. Lightening flashes and a loud crack of thunder follows. You, in the meantime, bite down onto your black painted nails, chewing and gnawing without care.
"I'm not stupid, ya know. None of us are, here. Now either you tell me what's happening... or You not only don't get the drugs, but I'll also call someone."
"Don't do that!" You shout and scoff, narrowing your eyes and frowning, "call who? The police? You think I'd be like this if they did a lick of good, Eddie?" Standing up, you walk to the fridge, open it up and grab one of Wayne's beers, taking a generous gulp.
Eddie watches your erratic movements with wide, sad eyes. With a final, slow exhale, he goes to the lunchbox and produces the drug you wanted.
"You know this won't make it go away..." He states with melancholy, "If only you'd talk to me. Shit!" There's a closing of a door outside and as Eddie hurriedly puts the box, and your precious drug, away, He's only back in the room again right before Wayne enters.
"What in the hell is going on here? Why is she drinking? What is she doing here?"
You look at Wayne with wide, fearful eyes before another door is slammed and you jump, knowing damn well its your father.
"Please..." you begin through tears, voice shaking with mercy, "Don't tell him I'm here."
You can hear your name being yelled by the large, fat, hairy man before there's a pounding on the Munson trailer door. Wayne is watching you and Eddie is taking your hand to quickly lead you to his bedroom before Wayne answers, lighting a cigarette.
"Yeah?"
The man, your father that is, his voice is slurred in speech as he talks to Wayne, never meeting his eyes as he searches the trailer from outside. "I'm looking for my daughter. Folks say she came 'round this way. You ain't seen her, have ya?" He gives a rather vague description of your general appearance.
Wayne takes a deep drag from his smoke before he shakes his head, "I can't say I've seen her here, no." He blows the deep grey smoke right into your father's face and the man coughs.
"Right... Well, if you do see her, tell her that her pa is lookin' for her. That I'm worried 'bout her."
Wayne mumbles his answer and watches your father stumble back to the rusty pickup truck, slamming the door with might before peeling away.
Eddie is watching you as you sit on his bed, legs up to your chest and your arms wrapped around your knees. He's playing with a lock of his hair out of nervousness and licks his drying lips. "What are you gonna do now?"
But you don't respond. You don't even really register what Eddie is saying, only listening to the sounds of the world outside, waiting for the monster you call "dad" to come back.
"Now, you all want to tell me just what in the hell is going on here?" Wayne isn't shouting but his voice is filled with concern as he enters Eddie's room, stopping short at the site of this young woman on his nephew's bed. He takes in your fear, the shaky, quivering breathing and he sighs deeply, kneeling in front of you.
"Sweetheart... I can't help you unless you help me." His voice is low and soft as he speaks to you, looking at Eddie who only shrugs.
After a final moment, you stand and get up off the bed, walking directly under the light that's in the middle of the room. You look up and breathe out, the fresh bruise on your eye now in full blossom. There's a bruise around your neck, older than the one on your eye. As tears fall from your eyes, you finally, with much hesitation, raise your sleeves. Deep red cuts in sporadic patterns are crossed along your arms.
Eddie groans and has to leave for a moment to collect his thoughts, another beer and a cigarette for you. Wayne watches the interaction between you both as you sit on the floor now, crying around the bottle of beer.
Eddie sits behind you and looks desperately at his uncle.
"It's not your fault... I want you to know that right now." Wayne says slowly as he sits on Eddie's bed, lightning another cigarette for himself. He watches as you take a slow drag, the smoke filling your lungs deeply. He wants to lecture you about the dangers of smoking young, of drinking away your pain, but that could wait.
Eddie, meanwhile, starts the task of slowly tracing his fingers on your back, swallowing hard and blinking back his emotions. "It's not... it's not your fault." He whispers and wipes his eyes.
Wayne ashes his smoke and looks at both of you before speaking again. "How long has this been happening?"
"As long as I can remember... I started to hurt myself so I could have control of what causes me pain. I'm sorry for you to have found me here, please don't blame Eddie, I was only-"
Wayne holds up a hand, "I don't blame anyone." He exhales heavily as he stands up and points to his nephew, "take care of this." Then he leaves the room.
Eddie leans forward and rests his chin on your shoulder, long arms wrapping around you in a tight hug as you stub the cigarette out on the tray Wayne had left.
"He'll be back, Eddie. I can't hide forever."
"Yes," Eddie whispers and rocks his head to the side to nuzzle your head with his nose, "He will. He will be back but not if we get him first."
"Let me stay here tonight... please."
"I thought that was a given already." He chuckles and stands up to go towards a shabby dresser, producing a worn Dio shirt. "Wear this tonight and tomorrow we'll go over a plan," as he goes to leave you to change for the evening, Eddie stops and taps the doorway, "I won't let him hurt you again. I promise, okay? I promise."
With no care in the world now, you simply undress your torso in front of Eddie, nodding after the simple band tee is placed over, "Thank you."
"And uh... Uncle Wayne won't let you drinking slide," Eddie chuckles and scratches his nose, "he likes scrambled eggs if you want to make it up."
With a final tap on the door frame, Eddie closes the door and leaves you to your thoughts and dreams, hoping that tonight, at least, is a good sleep for you.
#eddie x reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fic#eddie munson#eddie x fem!reader#eddie x you#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfiction#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie fic
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Besties frfrrrr
TW!: Cursing and mention of drugs ofc,We only besties for awhile, unrequited love, I'm to tired for this bs rn, Asmo treating us like a siblings, REJECTION FROM A MAN 😭😭, eventual fluff ofc, biggest plot twist in ur life,everything I write has crack, omg trans reader??????
Summary:Anyone would die to be in your position, childhood friends with Alice Asmodeus. Of course you had a crush on him but things only got awkward between you two since he rejected you. Of course you started crying since your long term crush rejected you but as a baddie you got over that shit.
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You would never forget the day he rejected you. The day before you moved away (to uh idk bro). Things have just never been the same. It's just like withdrawing from an alcohol addiction, but the alcohol is a demon👹. You swore ever since that day you wouldn't love anyone anymore like the way you loved your old childhoodfriend.
It's been so long since you've seen your hometown. It's nostalgia as if you started tasting drugs after you stopped it for a century, except you were actually gone for 10 years.
In those years you've been thinking deeply about your confession and have deducted that you've never really had a crush on your childhood friend, but rather it was gender envy.You came across the term 'Gender envy' in one of a lot of fanfictions you've read in you hellphone. Oh the things you would do to make it the holidays again where you could pull an all-nighter reading your favourite genre. I mean who wouldn't ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.
After a long discussion, your parents decided to send you to Babyls during your second year. What you genuinely weren't expecting was your ex-childhood friend not recognizing you. I mean you can't really blame anyone since you cut your hair short. Some demons still confuse you as a feminine looking boy. Total W in your book tho.
You were surprised that the first person to actually notice you were a girl was a blonde haired boy named Shax Lied.
"You're looking fine today my lady," he said with his usual teasing tone."Oh wow, I can't say the same about you today," you retorted back while rolling your eyes playfully. Over the past few months of knowing this yellow haired gremlin you've made a friend or two. One of them was a blue haired kid named Iruma that Asmodeus always follows around ever since he lost a duel against him. Honestly, it made you wary of him since Alice is a prodigy.
During break, you were suddenly getting a bad feeling. One that you couldn't have just shrugged off carelessly. After awhile you saw Alice approaching you intimidating. He was furious for some reasons. A reason that would become known as soon as he slammed his hand on the table."So it was you Y/N!" He shouted furiously while you just hummed in agreement.
"How could you just disappear on me like that?" He said in a tone even more furious than the last. You genuinely felt bad for the people who were quivering around you. They must've been scared of Alice's fierce aura and his temper. It was like he ate a ghost pepper and needed to take a explosive dump cause of his red face.
"Don't you know how much I missed you?" He said voice breaking which took you back a bit.
Missed me? Is he serious? After he rejected me, he dare say that I left him? You finally glanced back at him."Excuse you? You're the one who rejected me"
"But that doesn't mean you can just leave me out of nowhere like that!, You didn't even bother telling me you were moving away!"
"Why should tell you when you broke me heart!"
"Cause I like you!"
"And I don't,At least not anymore" you said solemnly as tears feel from his eyes. You didn't want to see him again was the only thing you thought of while walking away in frustration.
As you were walking down the hallways you felt a presence approaching you."Yo! Y/N you good, you were looking kinda down," Lied said as he rubbed his neck." We could go play games at my place later if it would cheer you up." He said this time showing a toothy grin.
"Sure, I would love too" you said with a light chuckle.
Note:
And they kissed and got married a few years later and lived a happy life 🤩/hj
For @sleptrn and no one else!
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I'm only on anon cause the other anons will come for me but:
Nancy absolutely cheated. They never explicitly broke up. He went to give her flowers and apologize because of what happened and never really talked about it, then she showed up with Jonathan. In her mind, it was over, but in his? It wasn't. That is still cheating. And even though I hate cheating it adds dimension to her character.
It's been years since I watched season 2 *even though it is one of my more favorite seasons in terms of character building since s1 except the random Kali moment that had no point* but I don't think Steve was intentionally trying to hurt her. But both of their trauma pushed them apart, but both her and Johnathon's trauma pushed them together. As someone who has been in traumatic situations with others, we all handle things differently.
Obviously, Nancy was traumatized, but she also reacted in unhealthy coping mechanisms to absolve herself of the guilt. Which I understand and relate to! Its interesting for the character and explains her actions, but it doesn't give her a get out of jail free card for the cheating
The Duffers just aren't great at writing characters and I think they're scared of giving characters negative traits. Being a cheater and so focused on her own goals that she doesn't give a shit who she hurts makes Nancy a textured character! It's interesting! Jonathan was more interesting in S1 when he was actually a bit of a pretentious asshole loner who thought he was above the jocks because he was sensitive and artistic. Steve was more interesting when he was still a bit of a dick instead of the "golden retriever himbo" in the later seasons. Hopper and Joyce were both interesting in S1-S2 because they were messy characters. Joyce was was paranoid and an emotional wreck and Hopper literally had a drug and alcohol addiction because he wasn't coping with grief, and it manifested in both of them being helicopter parents in S2 (and then this was played for comedy in S3).
Flawed characters are interesting!
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Febuwhump 2023
Well look who finally got their shit together and has time to write some Charles whump again! I might not be able to write something for every day this time, but we'll see. You might be thinking: "Pulla, why are you writing for an event that was five months ago?" And the answer to that is, because I had too much going on in february to write, but the prompts were too delicious to ignore. So that's why I'm still here in July X'D
But without further ado, hopefully you enjoy anoyher bunch of Charles whump ^w^
Day 1. Touchstarved
Charles had spent only few weeks in Genosha when it happened. He had been living with Erik, in a house that clearly had been build to suit someone with a wheelchair. (And hadn't that already been a reason for Charles to fight back a sudden surge of tears).
It was late in the evening and they were sitting in the living room, both reading on their own, but enjoying each other's presence nevertheless. Charles hadn't taken much with him when he had left the Westchester, but Erik had happily let him borrow from his own small collection of books. He had a lot of murder mystery novels and Charles was steadily reading through them, letting his mind escape to the world of fiction for a moment. Even if that fiction was quite grim.
"I think I'll head to bed." Erik informed, the end of the sentence muffled by a big yawn that made a corner of Charles' mouth lift up.
"Alright then. I think I'll sit here for a little longer." Charles said, watching as Erik put down his book and reading glasses, before looking back down at his own book. "Good night, Erik."
He could hear Erik moving and soon saw him walk past him from the corner of his eye. What he didn't see was Erik's hand that came to rest on the back of his neck, causing him to freeze entirely. Erik's hand was warm, almost hot, and suddenly every other part of Charles' body seemed cold. He was hyper aware of the way Erik's thumb rubbed his neck, sending goosebumps down his spine.
The feeling of it was so intense that he almost didn't register Erik's words.
"Good night, my friend." And like that, the hand was gone and so was Erik, his footsteps retreating from the room, but the imprint of his hand stayed right there, making Charles' skin tingle.
His heart was racing, but slowly Charles managed to free himself from the frozen state he had been in.
'What is wrong with me?' he thought to himslef. How could a touch, that couldn't have lasted more than few seconds, rattle him to his core like this? Slowly, he raised his hand and carefully touched the skin where Erik's hand had been, wanting to recreate the feeling, but scared that the lingering of it might disappear if he tried. He couldn't remember the last time someone's touch had made him feel like this.
To be honest, he had a hard time remembering the last time some one had touched him with any kind of affection. Maybe a quick hug from Jean on his birthday? Otherwise, he truly couldn't remember. After Cuba, and Raven leaving with Erik, any kind of physical affection had been a rarity. He had buried himself with work, then with alcohol and drugs and after that, with work again. He hadn't had time to forge any close relationships and if he was honest with himself, he had been scared to do so. No matter how much time passed, old wounds just didn't seem to heal, and he didn't want to add new ones.
The book Charles had been reading laid forgotten on his lap, as he continued to stroke his neck. The traces of Erik's touch were still there, but the feeling was nothing compared to how it had felt like when Erik had actually touched him.
God, he wanted Erik to touch him like that again.
Charles took in a shaky breath, only then realising that his cheeks were wet and how his heart was aching.
'Get yourself together' he forced himself to take a steady breath, willing the tears away. He wasn't as successful as he wanted to be.
'Would it be so bad? To ask for more? Surely Erik wouldn't push him away?' a small part of him whispered to him.
Well, unfortunately Charles had never learned how to ask something like that...
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wanted - part one
This is part one of a series I'm writing! Find the masterlist here.
Colson x Original Female Character, Pete X Original Female Character
Warnings: language, alcohol and drugs mentioned, talk of virginity and mentions of sex, mental health and self-esteem mentioned
Note: This is an au where they aren't famous. The band exists but they're just college kids.
Word Count: 2065
I’ve always been the one who gets picked last.
When I was in elementary and middle school, I was always the one chosen last for the team, too skinny and unlikable, or maybe just too invisible to be picked. In high school when I finally had a group of friends, I was never the one that guys went for. I had one boyfriend in high school because my best friend wanted to double-date, so she set me up with her boyfriend’s best friend. We lasted two weeks before I got the ick and broke up with him over text message.
Maybe it was for the best. I had no interest in actually dating guys in high school. I just liked pining after the ones who would never know I existed. It was safer that way; I couldn’t be rejected or get hurt. I found solace in my head, in spending time alone and learning to like it.
I had no interest in sex in high school; it grossed me out and scared the shit out of me, so even if I’d had a boyfriend, I would have never been able to get past making out with him. I was too uncomfortable in my own skin, and the thought of letting someone else see me caused me so much anxiety that it made me sick.
By the time I was 21, I was still a virgin and it was humiliating. All of my friends had lost it and had slept with more than one person at that point, and there I was, never having even gone past making out. I finally lost it to one of my guy friends and cried on the drive home. A year later and I haven’t gone any further than a few handjobs and one blowjob, and I still haven’t had a boyfriend.
I still feel like guys look right through me. I’m not sure why. I think I’m pretty enough, relatively tall with pale blonde hair and green eyes. I wouldn’t say I’m supermodel beautiful by any means, but I’m not ugly. All of my friends tell me I could have anyone I wanted, but I know that isn’t true.
For all of those reasons and more, I can’t wrap my head around why I’ve found myself in the situation I’m in: torn between two gorgeous men who both want me. I want them, too. Both of them. I have no idea how to handle it, and I know it’s all going to crash and burn soon enough.
My life is pretty boring. I don’t really do much other than spend time with girlfriends, do schoolwork, work, and sleep. I’ve decided that this year, I’m going to have some fun. I’m going to meet guys and stop being so timid about it. I’m going to go to parties when invited rather than turn them down like I always do. I’m wasting my youth and I don’t want to do it anymore.
So when my classmate and friend invites me to her band’s show, I say yes.
Sophie is my closest friend in my creative writing program. She’s a horror writer but she’s also a kickass guitar player. She plays in a local band with quite a following; they’re attempting to make it big. I have no idea if they’re good or not; this will be my first time watching them perform. Sophie is the only girl in the band, so she told me she needs girlfriends there to support her.
She told me it was a basement show, nothing too fancy, so I don’t have to dress up. Still, I’m not really sure what to wear to something like this. There’s an afterparty at Sophie’s bandmate’s house and I’m invited to that, too. It’ll be a smaller group of people and she’s insisted that I’ll love her friends. I’m anxious, but excited, too. I hope she’s right.
It’s still warm out, so I decide on a black bodysuit and some high-waisted jean shorts with my favorite high-top Converse. I French-braid my hair, knowing it’ll be hot in the basement, and keep my makeup and jewelry light. I’m feeling good when I leave my apartment, stopping to pick up another one of our classmates, Alicia.
“I hope they’re good or this is gonna be awkward,” Alicia says dryly, applying lipstick in my car mirror.
I chuckle and glance at the GPS. “We’ll support her nonetheless,” I tell her.
“Honestly, they can suck all they want. I’m just going to see the guys in the band,” she says, then moans.
I wince and laugh. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Alicia shoots me a look, her brown eyes glinting. “Have you not seen them?” she asks incredulously. “Every single one of them is fucking hot.”
“No way,” I say skeptically, glancing at her momentarily.
“I mean it,” Alicia says, pulling her phone from her purse. She navigates for a few moments, then holds her phone out. “My personal favorite is the drummer, Rook.”
“Rook?” I ask, glancing at a picture of a guy with a nice smile, wincing. “What’s with the braids?”
“Hey, don’t knock the braids,” Alicia says defensively, pulling her phone back. “His name is JP but he goes by Rook. They all have nicknames. This is Slim, he does the keyboard and stuff.” She turns the phone back to me, phone displaying a picture of a man with warm, brown skin and a beard. “Brandon is his real name, but no one calls him that.”
“Okay, he’s cute,” I offer.
“Baze, or Steve, plays bass,” she says.
“Baze. Bass. Got it,” I say, glancing at a picture of a man with incredible hair and a beard to match. “He’s awesome.”
“And sexy,” Alicia adds. “Justin plays guitar.” Another picture of a man, this one with short dreadlocks. She’s not wrong, every single person is good looking.
“And finally,” she says. “The one that gets all the panties wet.”
“Ew,” I interrupt.
“Kells, the lead singer.” Alicia holds her phone up and I have to do a double-take. On her phone is a picture of, quite possibly, the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Bleach blonde hair, blue eyes, nose rings, jewelry in his ears and on his neck and on his fingers. Skin littered with tattoos.
“Holy shit,” I say, taking her phone to ogle him while at a red light.
“I told you,” Alicia says smugly.
“Is Kells his real name?” I ask, still fixating on the photo.
“Colson,” Alicia says. “Most people call him Kells because their band is called-”
“Machine Gun Kelly,” I answer for her, nodding. “Gotcha.”
The light turns green and I reluctantly hand Alicia back her phone. My skin feels slightly flushed and my heart is beating a little faster. All from a picture. I blow out a breath to regain some composure.
“Colson is single, by the way,” Alicia says, since I don’t ask. “But I guess he doesn’t really date. He mostly sleeps around.”
“Gotcha,” I answer, trying not to sound disappointed. I snap out of it quickly, though, because there’s no way that someone who looks like Colson would go for me.
Soon enough, we arrive at the venue and park in the parking lot. We go inside and squeeze our way into the basement, already stuffed to the gills with people and stiflingly hot. I look around, taking in the haze of smoke hovering above the bodies, smell the scent of cigarettes and weed and the slightly fruity hint of vape smoke. My eyes land on the stage where a couple of people are testing instruments. I don’t recognize any of them from the pictures, so I assume they’re crew.
“How popular are they?” I yell to Alicia over the noise.
“Pretty popular!” Alicia calls back. “Decent amount of streams on Spotify, I think.” I just nod.
We squeeze our way to a spot near the front, and we spot Sophie standing by the side of the stage, a beer in hand as she talks to someone…was it Justin? She turns to spot us and squeals excitedly. “You made it!” she gushes, waving us over. We embrace her together. “This is Justin, the other guitarist. Justin, this is Alex and Alicia.”
“Nice to meet you,” Justin says, shaking our hands. “Glad Soph’s friends could make it.”
“Show’s starting in five minutes, let me grab you beers,” Sophie says, waving for us to follow her. Behind the stage, there’s a small area with tables, equipment, and a fridge. Sophie extracts two beers and hands them to us.
“Sophie, these your friends?” a voice asks. The guy I recognize as Rook, the drummer, approaches, and Alicia blushes. “I’m Rook.” He shakes our hands, holding eye contact with Alicia for a moment. I feel a slight wave of insecurity. It’s always someone else before it’s me.
Sophie turns her head. “Kells! Slim! Baze!” she calls. “Come meet my girls!”
Three men approach, and my eyes immediately land on Colson. Holy shit, he’s even hotter in person. I will myself to relax, play it cool. The guys shake our hands, and sure enough, Colson’s eyes barely skim over mine before he’s looking away, seemingly too cool for this interaction. I’m ready to get into the crowd where I can hide again.
“Five minutes,” a woman calls out to them, and the boys scatter. Sophie leads us to a spot in the front row and my heart rate eases just a little now that I’m not in the presence of so many gorgeous men.
“Hot as fuck, right?” Alicia says with a smirk.
I shrug. “Not like I have a chance with any of them,” I mutter.
Alicia frowns. “That’s so not true, Alex,” she says.
I raise a brow. “Colson barely noticed me. Rook was eye-fucking you.”
“He was, wasn’t he?” Alicia gushes excitedly, and I roll my eyes, but I can’t help but smile. Before our conversation can continue, the lights dim and the band comes out. The room erupts in deafening cheers and I link arms with Alicia as the crowd begins to swell and shift.
“What’s up, we’re Machine Gun Kelly,” Colson says into the mic, another cheer following his words. “Thanks for coming out.” He puts the pick to his guitar and into the mic, shouts, “2, 3, 5!” Immediately, the band breaks into song and I’m instantly impressed by the way they blend.
Colson starts to sing and it’s like my eyes glue themselves to him. I can’t look anywhere else. He’s captivating, the best stage presence I’ve ever experienced, and I’ve been to many concerts. The way he moves, the way he plays the guitar, I’m unable to take my eyes off of him. The song moves into the chorus and I fall in love with his voice, the raspy depth of it, the way it moves over the syllables and notes. Fuck, I’m so attracted to this man.
All night, I try to watch Sophie, try to watch Baze on the bass or Rook on the drums, but my eyes always drift back to Kells. Colson. No wonder every girl wants him. He’s like the human embodiment of sex.
The show ends and everyone claps wildly, including me. It’s the best show I’ve ever been to in my life, and I’m immediately disappointed that it’s over. Alicia turns to me, eyes wild and excited. “Holy shit!” she yells.
“That was fucking incredible!” I say, adrenaline rushing through me. “Wow!”
“Let’s go find Sophie!” Alicia says, taking my hand. We make our way backstage and Sophie runs at us, embracing us again.
“Sophie, holy shit!” I gush. “That was incredible!”
“Thanks,” Sophie says, beaming widely.
“Good show, Soph,” Colson says, wrapping her in a hug.
“That was amazing,” I blurt, looking at Colson.
He gives a lazy smile. “Thanks,” he says, and immediately, he’s gone again, going over to hug Rook.
“You coming to the after party?” Sophie asks.
“Of course,” Alicia says.
Sophie glances over her shoulder and leans in conspiratorially. “Rook thinks you’re cute,” she tells Alicia with a smirk.
Alicia squeals. “Oh, I’m 100% sucking his dick tonight,” she says matter-of-factly, and Sophie and I crack up.
“We’ll probably be there in like an hour,” Sophie says. “Gotta clean up.”
“We’ll go grab something to eat,” I say. “See you there!”
#machine gun kelly#mgk#colson baker#pete davidson#machine gun kelly fanfic#mgk fanfic#colson baker fanfic#pete davidson fanfic
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Falling In Line
What happens when CM Punk and The Second City Saints get a new member that was originally from their worst Enemies The Prophecy?
Pairing: CM Punk x Female
Rating: M
Warnings: Very Strong Language, Graphic Rape, Strong Rough Sexuality, Strong Volience
Chapter 1
PAYBACK!
Taylor Sky is a 20-year girl and she's from Philadelphia, PA. She has been dealing with her abusive and alcoholic Father all her life. He would abuse and Rape her almost everyday. She's a sweet girl and just want to enjoy life happily and to feel loved but also has a feisty and disrespectful side that made her an out cast.
She moved to Chicago to start a new life and pursue her wrestling career to get away from her terrible life back at home. Along the way, she meets Christopher Daniel in IWA Mid South Wrestling . He was there for her and helped her become who she is today. They both broke out in Ring Of Honor along with their best friends Allision Danger, Dan Maff and BJ Whitmer aka The Prophecy she finally felt loved and wanted That is Until she ran into The Second City Saints Leader CM Punk.
CM Punk is a 24 year old punk rock who became the wrestling God of the indies. He is also Straight edge which means; he is drug free, alcohol free and he is better than you and everyone else in the world. CM Punk is the Leader of the Group The Second City Saints which consist of; Colt Cabana, Ace Steel, Lucy Furr and Traci Brooks. CM Punk is an arrogant, self proclaimed, highly disrespectful, asshole in all of Ring Of Honor. He is The Ring Of Honor Champion, The Ring Of Honor Tag Team Champion with Colt Cabana. CM Punk is not to be messed with and he is very Dangerous. Plainly CM Punk don't give a fuck!
What will happen when he meets Taylor Sky?Will She Fall In Line or will he finally be tamed?
Chapter 1
PAYBACK!
I wished this was a dream and I could just wake up to fresh smell of coffee and sun beaming down on me with birds chirping but it wasn't. This wasn't even scripted this is was as real as it gets. The people cheering had no clue this was not scripted but reality because of what happened to Lucy. I had nothing to do with her, I didn't even know her but I knew she was CM Punk's girl and all I could ask myself was 'Why BJ? Why?' I don't know what he did to Lucy but whatever he did looks like I'm the one paying the price for it.
The shit that was going down in front me scared me shitless. My tough side wouldn't even come out that's how terrified and scared I was. People told me about CM Punk and his reputation and his attitude towards others that wasn't like him. Chris told me never to Trust him, He was a monster that had to be put away and that He only cared about himself. I hated him with every fiber in me. I wanted him to burn in hell and stay there forever. He destroyed a lot of my friends careers in ROH and the last thing I wanted was to be anywhere near him. My thoughts was yanked out of me suddenly when I felt the pain of my black long stringy hair be pulled out of my head by none other than CM Punk who was angry and his grip made note of it.
"Get the fuck off me!" I yelled trying to get him off my hair but hurting myself in the process.
"Shut the fuck up you stupid bitch! fuck you chris! this is payback for what your buddy did to lucy!" Punk yelled back at them as he begin laughing sadisticly and shoving me down on the floor towards the entrance area.
The crowd was so loud that I could even hear myself coughing from falling to the floor. I pulled my hair back behind my ear trying to focus where I was going.
Colt and Ace continued to go at The Prophecy causing the arean to go up in a roar as people begin trying to challenge CM Punk and Second City Saints.
"Punk if you hurt her I will fuck all of you up! don't play with me bitch! Dan yelled at Punk,Colt and Ace as every one in the arena knew Dan was snapping and punk was getting under his skin when he had shoved Taylor to the floor. Dan was so mad that he picked up a metal chair and threw it randomly at The Second City Saints causing the mayhem to escalate "I will fuck you up you punk ass bitch! Come get you some bitch!" Dan was fuming and trying get to punk as security tore threw the arena.
"I'll take good care of her .. Prophecy" Punk laughed maniacally and retreated to the exit doors as Colt and Ace followed him while pulling me with them forcefully. Before punk could leave and an idea came to his head and he turned around. Smiling sadisticly and laughing at the crowd who processed to threaten and scream at him he grabbed a very terrified me against him so I was facing The Prophecy. He had a microphone in hand and held me closer to him. He begin yelling at the prophecy to pay attention to him as Chris And BJ did.
As scared as I was I had to admit to myself 'how can someone so Sexy and cute as CM Punk become like this?'
" Listen up!, I have your precious Taylor! and what I will do to her will be way worst than what you did Lucy! This is payback and I'm gonna enjoy doing what I want! When I want! and most of all as I want to her! and there's nothing you MOTHERFUCKERS can do about it! Oh and Dan if you thought me shoving her to the floor was bad just imagine that as my BED!.. Punk started laughing crazily at the idea as Dan Maff begin trying to force his way through the guards angrily "IM A FUCK YOU!" Dan yelled while being held by the guards.
"Cuz I'm gonna have so much fun doing the things you wish you did!" Punk yelled as he threw the mic at the prophecy not caring if is hit them or not. The crowd cheered still believing this was all an act and I only wish they knew how wrong they were.
"I AM CM PUNK! I AM STRAIGHT EDGE! THAT MEANS I AM DRUG FREE! ALCOHOL FREE AND THAT I AM BETTER THAN EACH AND EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU!" and with that Punk retreated pulling me along to the back with Colt and Ace behind him running to the exit to there car.
Sorry it's short but I hoped you liked it. Let me know in the comments. Chapter 2 will be out tomorrow.
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Mealspome-
Follow up to my last post, I now have to face some new fears of mine.
1. Soberity from alcohol for at least 1 month - sobriety for me isn't permanent. I just cannot keep on using it as an excuse to engage in unhealthy behaviour or as an escape. I used to be so motivated as a kid, alcohol and drugs took that from me.
2. I like health foods more than processed sugary foods, but I've definitely fallen into a sugar and fat pit because I can not afford good food and living with my mom now. All she buys is unhealthy snacks. Idk what I'm gonna do there, I need a substitute for sugar until I stop craving it.
3. No over eating. 3 meals a day only. Which, when I'm not over eating, is lunch, dinner, something small after dinner. Or lunch, snack, late dinner. So I'm gonna start with no breakfast tomorrow, just so my body can chill for a bit and be reminded it doesn't NEED SUGAR RIGHT THIS SECOND.
4. I've been scared to go outside or face people. My dog is getting fat :( . I need to go outside for daily walks but omg I'm so frightened cause I look like shit. My hair is awful and uuughhhhghdhdhdh. Like, I'm too fat to be seen in public by people who know me. I'm so frightened.
Really, it's just sobriety, and the going outside which scare me the most. I've been dealing with the food shit forever, I'm more familiar with how it goes.
Extra :) : ever since I was a kid I've always wanted buff arms, idc abt abs or legs or butt, I've just really wanted arm muscles, to like, prove I wasn't worthless or something. Regardless of the psychology behind my initial desire, I'm going to start yoga again 😞🫣. If I have arm muscle, I can go a little easier on myself for my diet. But as a petite woman, I feel like this is going to be really hard. Actually, I know it's going to be difficult cause this isn't my first rodeo.
OH ALSO 5. Running again bitch! U don't need to track ur calories or ur steps ok, just run for ONLY 30 SECONDS tomorrow, and I'll love u 🫡
Imagine a future where you are healthy and happy.
Although I'm scared like, ok, so I run and am sober? So what? I'll still be miserable!
That train of thought just popped into my head.
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Last weekend I went to met this dude I've been chatting with for the last year or so. He bought something to drink (whiskey) and I told him I wasn't gonna drink a lot cause I don't drink that much snd I don't like the feeling of it afterwards so I only accepted the first one.
The night was going smoothly, nice chat, we where talking about anything really, whatever was coming on topic, until he decided to pour me another drink & since everything was kinda okay I accepted the second one & only halfway of the drink that's when he decided to get sexual with me. I didn't mind it at first but I wasn't enjoying it either, until I started to feel sleepy and he got mad, little by little but still mad that I was falling asleep.
At first I thought I was just tired from all the work I did that day but then I started to feel not only sleepy but dizzy and I started to sweat a lot, a weird feeling I felt once before years ago and it came into my mind that I've been intoxicated with that second drink, and, remind you I only drank half of it -thank God, otherwise I don't know if I would be here writing this down- so I decided to call an Uber to go home as quickly as possible. Then this guy started to heat up when I told him I needed to go home cause I didn't felt well. He keep telling me to stay, just to wait a few more minutes and offered me a sleeping pill. Excuse me ? A sleeping pill ?!.
By that moment I already knew his intentions with me, not only he wanted to hook up with me but to rape me while I was unconscious and knowing a friend of his was waiting upstairs for me to fall asleep so they could do it together.
Then my Uber came, like super fast, that was a first really. I ran outside, went inside the car and told the driver that I've been intoxicated and needed to go home quick. I came home feeling like shit, throwing up the alcohol & also blood...
I was scared, alone & my body went into a hypothermia state. I really felt like I was gonna die and I had no one to ask for help. I felt embarrassed to even do it and I know why; because I didn't wanted to feel judge, after all it was my decision to go meet this guy. But it wasn't my decision being drugged.
Now my mind is in such a dark place right now cause I only feel like a toy people can use and throw and I don't wanna feel like that. Im scared that the next guy who talks sweet to me is gonna do the same thing.
I know I was lucky "nothing" happened to me, but I'm a really sensitive person and it affected me on another level. I can't stop thinking about it, I can't stop feeling the fear that I felt that night.
Why is this happening to me ? Do I deserve it? Or is it just a cruel joke?.
I just want this to be over.
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Happier Than Ever // Rafe Cameron
bullshit angst that i wrote on my birthday in honor of my shitty ex
warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol and drug use, slight sexual assault
summary: rich men are shit.
You called me again, drunk in your Benz
Driving home under the influence
You sped down the road, groaning as the approaching light turned red.
Rafe had called you 20 minutes ago, words slurring together as he begged you to come pick him up from a bar near cook county.
You tapped impatiently at the steering wheel, internally pleading for the light to turn green.
This happened quite often, Rafe was always out doing something stupid.
And you were always there to fix it.
You scared me to death, but I'm wasting my breath
'Cause you only listen to your fucking friends
You pulled into the parking lot of Raymond’s, a infamous bar located on a huge dock above the water.
As you stepped out fo the car, you took notice of the grey Benz lazily parked on the grass.
‘Of course, he was hammered before he even got here’ You mentally cursed yourself, why was he like this?
You watched the flashing lights shining through the windows as you made your way down the dock, sunglasses not doing much to prevent you from going blind.
I don't relate to you
I don't relate to you, no
As you entered the building you couldn’t help but notice Rafe and his friend playing a game of pool in the corner of the building.
You walked over to him, grabbing his arm in attempt to gain his attention.
“Oh hello gorgeous,” He immediately wrapped an arm around your waist, hiccuping between every other word. “took you long enough!”
You sighed, trying to pull him towards the door.
You just wanted to go home and go back to sleep, considering Rafe had woken you up from a wonderful dream.
You had only made it a few steps in the opposite direction when he pushed you away, mumbling something about not wanting to leave.
'Cause I'd never treat me this shitty
You made me hate this city
You did everything in your power to get him outside, but he wouldn’t budge.
During your final attempt to push him out the door one of his friends grabbed you, paying no attention to you protests.
Rafe just stood there and laughed at his friends, watching you writher under their touch as they ran their hands up your body as if you were their gf.
Your pleads were a silent sound, not a single person in the bar paying you any attention as you begged for them to get off of you.
“Get the fuck off me!”
It all became too much, and did the only theming you knew to do.
You screamed bloody murder.
And I don't talk shit about you on the internet
Never told anyone anything bad
Every head in the bar looked your way, a few gasps or ‘oh shit’s’ ringing through the air.
Before you knew it there were men grabbing the boys around you, including your boyfriend.
You just watched as he was taken outside, the flashing lights of the police cars making you dizzy.
He said he loved you, but everyone knew his love for alcohol was stinger than any love he could ever have.
'Cause that shit's embarrassing, you were my everything
And all that you did was make me fuckin' sad
Rafe was a mean, selfish man.
Just like his father, Rafe couldn’t tell right from wrong. And this time, he was wrong.
wrong wrong wrong.
He made everything your fault, because perfect Mr Rafe Cameron does no fucking wrong.
Everything he does is perfect in every way possible.
He made sure to make you look like an idiot in front of anyone you were around, making comments like “You’re so fucking stupid” or “it’s common fucking sense.”
'Cause that shit's embarrassing, you were my everything
And all that you did was make me fucking sad
Rafe was never a good guy, and everyone told you that.
But you loved him.
You had since the first day you met him, he was so nice at first.
Even when you had first gotten together, he would take you out on cute little dates and drive you around the river on his boat.
You were the center of his attention.
So don't waste the time I don't have
And don't try to make me feel bad
Until you weren’t.
He started distancing himself a few months prior, sneaking out in the middle of the night and not coming back until late the next day.
If you called him, he’d decline without hesitation.
On your 2 year anniversary he was in a different fucking state, and you didn’t even know it.
You family threw you a party, but you sat on the couch all day staring at the door, internally begging him to walk in any minute just to be there.
But he never showed up.
You first saw him again a week later. You were driving down the street when you saw him laying on a bench, higher than the fucking sky.
I could talk about every time that you showed up on time
But I'd have an empty line 'cause you never did
You tried your best to prove to your parents that he was a good guy, that he truly cared about you.
But god you could barely even ducking convince yourself anymore.
It got to the point where he would get mad at the mere mention of your family, especially when your brought up going to their house for dinner.
Never paid any mind to my mother or friends
So I shut 'em all out for you 'cause I was a kid
You watched as they put your boyfriend in handcuffs, forcing him into the car along with his friends.
Before you could get away, you felt your body start to give and next thing you new everything went black.
You could hear the noises around you, and you could feel the grass tickling your skin, but you couldn’t see anything.
You heard Rafe yelling your name, pleading and begging for them to stop. To let him see you.
You ruined everything good
Always said you were misunderstood
Rafe Cameron loved you, in his own sick, twisted way.
No one ever understood your relationship, but you didn’t care. Neither did he.
Because you two were truly in love.
Somehow, someway, you were perfect for each other.
Made all my moments your own
Just fucking leave me alone
——————————————————-
//pls this took me forever and i kind of hate it but i wanted to post something so you know
tags <3
@itsmentalillness @just-a-smol-spoon @georgesluvr @mischief-marauders @randomoutsiders @padf00ts-l0ver @lunalovegoodart @worldofwolfstar @queen-asteria04 @evesbiggestf4n @owlmylove @oswildin @ottoscum @acosmis-t @drac0spersonalslut @dracossweetprincess @dracoscum @georgeswh0re @jules-hazard @kalivodaskiller @lavendersage @chandlerbingmybeloved @cupids-crystals @badassnevile @bitchyally @nothingandeverythingintheworld @nwewr @narcissassecondewife
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Imagine Faust!valter being super submissive
So, I don't really see Faust ever getting submissive in a sexual way, but I started thinking of things that might make him sucky or clingy and came up with this. I hope you like it, and sorry for adopting this into the FxF universe and not considering it a standalone request.
Warning: 18+ mature language, anti-religious themes throughout, drug and alcohol use. **This part contains situations and mentions of sexual harassment, angst and Faust being one big sucky boy**
Summary: An uncomfortable situation makes Faust fear for his already teetering relationship. Faith contemplates life without Faust.
- Not based on Lords of Chaos. I use Faust!Valter’s likeness only as inspiration.
Read more Faust x Faith here [x]
The misty night spilled in from the open window of Faith's dorm room. Shouts and laughter carried up from below, where a group of boys gallivanted on the lawn. Faith took a break from her essay to observe the raucous bunch. They took turns playing keep-up with a soccer ball, showing off their stunts to impress the girls who walked by in pairs from the campus restaurant, care-free and unaware of the one who watched from her bed.
Faith wondered what it was like to date one of the footballers, a boy like Bobby Esders. She might befriend his friends, meet his family, cheer him on at his games and be one of the girls down there on the grass. If she hadn't moved to the city, maybe she would have ended up with someone who went to school all day and played video games at night. Perhaps they would go to college parties, drink too much, order pizza for breakfast, and miss their classes. After college, she envisioned marriage, play-fighting over their future children's names, and getting pregnant with those planned children.
Faith smiled at these thoughts, but the make-believe joy was short-lived. Playing house would never be her life. Not with Faust in the picture.
Was she pining for things unknown simply because she knew not a life outside of him? And if she left him to pursue these feats, would she find happiness, or would his giant shadow leave a void that no other man could fill? Such was the argument causing her to write in circles and backspace her work repeatedly. She read the lines with Faust on her mind, but they made no sense.
Faith's roommate Claire came in after her gym session, tossed her bag on the bed and rubbed her bare arms.
"Are you crazy? It's freezing outside," Claire said, shutting out the hooting and hollering from outside.
Faith glanced at her legs rife with goosebumps. "Sorry, I didn't really notice."
"Are you feeling all right? You haven't really been your normal, bubbly self lately."
"I'm okay," Faith said.
"You sure it has nothing to do with your boyfriend? He came here the other night looking for you. Scared the shit out of me."
"He did?"
"Yes. He must have walked right by the supervisor's desk. He seemed pissed."
"Oh."
"Faith," she said, sitting down at the shared desk. "Are you sure everything's okay? You're too nice to be with someone who's causing you problems."
Faith tried on a grin. "I know he seems scary, but he's sweet."
"So, he wasn't mad at you?"
"More like I was mad at him."
"Thought you said he was sweet?"
"He and my dad don't get along, and I was ignoring him, but we're fine now. I'm sorry he freaked you out."
Claire sighed and changed the subject to who had the bigger workload, but Faith had no interest in small talk. Faust remained wrapped in her head, as always. She wished the issue was as light as her father hating her boyfriend and her boyfriend hating her entire lifestyle. If it were that simple again, maybe she could focus on something besides Faust and the charred body the police had found in Trinity church ruins.
Although Christianity had provided Faith with guidelines on which to base a good life, she hadn't ingested the Bible as a whole. She acknowledged some of the fundamental beliefs were ill-designed for the modern world, while some tenets stood well across time. Murder was an unforgivable transgression no matter how Faust framed his excuse. His crime echoed across the city, from the prayer circles to local news outlets and surrounding cities—the arson of the decade whose starter had yet to be identified was all anyone talked about. Her professor brought it up in a lecture that day, and her fellow students had the black circle on their tongues.
How could the hands that had touched her so tenderly also snuff the life of another? His smile, which grew in her presence, had also basked in the flames that had burned Sven alive. If she told anyone, they would surely say it wasn't her fault, but Faith knew if she hadn't gone to Faust's apartment and stayed at the party, disobeying his orders to stay away from his crowd, she wouldn't have a killer for a boyfriend.
No amount of reworking the scenario brought her comfort, so Faith waited. She waited for the passing dread, for inspiration to finish her essay, and for a call from an unknown number.
~*~
Across the city, in the North Peak hamlet, Faust collected three hundred dollars in cash from Mrs. Conte for conducting a drum lesson with her son, Linden. The kid wasn't hard to teach once Faust ripped his attention away from his iPad with a thunderous solo using every drum and symbol on the kid's set—a Christmas present that had mostly gone to waste on a boy with a spinning wheel of interests. Faust had initially responded to a street flyer advertising the drumkit for sale, and he reached out, knowing it was worth double the asking price, and he stood to make a little coin from reselling it piece by piece. But the woman had asked if Faust was a drummer and if he'd be willing to teach her son for more money. Three hundred for a lesson, and if he managed to get the kid interested, three hundred more every week for two months, until summer break.
After pocketing the cash, Linden asked when the next lesson was, and Mrs. Conte looked to Faust for an answer.
"Uh... Next week?" Faust said.
"Yes! Can I go play my video game now?" Linden asked.
"Go on, honey. You did well today."
The ten-year-old took off running down the hall, and Faust shouldered on his leather jacket to leave.
"You're going so soon?" Mrs. Conte asked.
Faust looked back at the single mother, her hair done up in a mess of ringlets, a few gold chains gathering in her ample cleavage. She wore all black from her tight blouse to her skin-tight jeans, a leather and chain belt cinched around her waist, and enough bracelets to open her own store. The smell of expensive cigarettes, perfume and tanning oil wafted off her skin.
"You smoke pot?"
"Yeah, sometimes," said Faust.
"Why don't we go upstairs, I'll roll us a fatty, and we can talk scheduling."
"Isn't it pretty straightforward? I'll come by every Tuesday, teach Linden for a couple hours, you pay me, and I leave."
"My ex-husband grows the best shit in town. Come on, it'll only be a few minutes. What, you got a charity event to go to?"
"No."
"Don't be a pussy then. I ain't gonna stab you."
Faust wasn't afraid of coming off impolite, but the promise of a steady income with minimal work was too good to pass up. He followed Mrs. Conte up the stairs and into her powder room with a double set of doors that opened up onto a quaint balcony. He took a seat on an iron patio chair outside and took in the crescent of houses from on high. This area of town was foreign to him. Nobody he knew lived in the North Peak where the super-rich families held court. Each driveway was home to a Mercedes, a Bentley, a Lincoln or some member of the vehicular elite. Some houses had pillars and stone lions flanking intricately carved front doors. The green lawns looked almost purple in the streetlight, sectioned by slabs of white stone and pristine asphalt. He wondered what it was like to own one of the colossal homes, what kind of career one might have to afford the extravagance.
Mrs. Conte joined him on the balcony with a finger-sized joint already smouldering at the tip. When he puffed, the taste of Dior lipstick and Afghan Kush filled his mouth. He passed it back, but the woman refused.
"Get to know it," she said and pulled a cigarette from a silver case and lit it.
Faust shrugged and continued smoking the joint down to half. The last puff made him cough, and he turned the joint over to its roller.
"Good stuff, eh?"
"Yup," Faust gasped.
"I got a whole pound. Could send you home with some."
"No, thanks, Mrs. Conte. I'm good."
"Linda. Please. And it's Miss. Still not technically divorced. Cheating ass motherfucker's been fighting tooth and nail to pay me less. I says, shouldn'ta signed the prenup and said you wouldn't fuck around. Now all his shit's mine."
"That's, uh... Good, I guess."
"He's rich. Doesn't matter to him. Fucker hemorrhages money. Owns a golf course. Can you believe it?"
"You're house is pretty nice, so yeah. I believe it."
"Not really much for conversation, huh? Strong silent type, I take it."
"Yeah, I guess. I dunno. Don't really smoke weed with too many moms."
Linda chuckled. "S'that all I am now? Just a mom? Shit... I guess so."
"I'm sure you do more than that."
"Used to be one of the highest-paid strippers in the county 'til I had the kid. The little son of a bitch turned a twenty thousand dollar tit job to dust. Fucked up my body for years. I spent all day on the treadmill, cooking and cleaning for his father like a proper trophy wife, and the bastard still cheats on me with a fucking eighteen-year-old. Can you believe that shit? You do everything you can for someone, thinking it's for love, and it blows up in your fuckin' face. Whole world's ungrateful."
"Damn, that sucks."
"I'd kill the fuck if I could. But they go after the wife right away. Tell ya, it wouldn't be clean either. I'd beat his head in with one of those nine irons. Set him of fire."
Faust shifted in his seat, longing to be on the sidewalk heading away from North Peak and toward Faith's school.
"What, that kinda thing make you queasy?"
"No. I get it. Do everything for someone, and they don't see it. All they see is the shit you don't do, the things you aren't."
Linda pointed her ringed fingers at Faust. "That's right. Hey, you're smart for a kid."
"I'm not a kid."
"You gotta face like one. What're you, twenty? Twenty-one?"
"Twenty-six."
"Shit. You're a grown-ass man."
"Yep."
"I like you, Faust. You look like you don't take any shit," Linda said, patting his knee. "Cute fucker, too. Yeah, you ain't all that scary under that black hair."
"Thanks? Look, I gotta get going—"
"You want a beer?"
"I'm good. Like I said, I gotta head out."
Linda breathed in a thick plume of smoke from the joint, flicked it over the rail, then switched to her cigarette. "Tall motherfucker. You look like you could beat my ass bloody."
"Alright—"
As Faust stood to leave, Linda grabbed his arm. "You like cash, honey?"
"Linda, let go of me."
"Watch any MILF porn? I bet you do. Everyone does these days."
"I got a girl."
"So what? I'll pay ya nice. You can take her to fuckin' Disney World. All you gotta do is take your pants off and go hop on that bed. I'll do all the work."
Faust squeezed Linda's wrist and yanked. She unhanded him and retreated in the chair, eyes locked on him.
"I said don't fucking touch me."
"You got some young little thing waiting for you too? Fucking men are all the same," she spat.
"I'm outta here. Good luck with your divorce or whatever."
Faust left the house and didn't look back even as Linda hung over the rail yelling at him. Three hundred dollars wasn't a bad rate for two hours of work and some sexual harassment, but it left him with an inexplicable hum in his gut like someone had rung his chest like a gong and the vibrations pooled inside of him, ripples on top of ripples.
He jogged to the nearest corner store to buy a pack of cigarettes and a box of Smarties. He downed half the box of candies in one mouthful, then lit a cigarette and deposited some coins in the nearest payphone to call Faith. He silently begged for her to answer, and when she picked up on the last ring, he let out a chocolate and nicotine-laden breath.
"Faust? Where are you?"
"Across town. You still wanna hang out tonight?"
"Um... I'm kinda sleepy. Plus, I have class in the morning."
Faust waited to catch his breath, took another drag of his smoke. "Please. I really want to see you."
"Is everything okay? You sound worried."
"I just want to meet up."
"Okay, okay. Where should we meet?"
"You know the swings behind the armoury?"
Faith kicked her feet. "Where we first hung out."
"Yeah. That's not far from you."
"It's dark out."
"Take a cab. I'll pay for it."
"Why can't we go to your place?"
"We will. But I want to talk in private."
Faith understood. Did Faust have a lapse in confidence? Had the guilt of his wrongdoings finally crept up and latched onto his back? She had to know and moved to put on some fur-lined leggings and the hoodie she'd taken from his bedroom the night when everything changed.
The cab dropped her off between the parking lot and the massive overhead doors of the armoury. She paid the minimum fare and waited for Faust to show up, passing the time by deciphering the coat of arms painted in red and blue on the old wooden doors. Down the street, illuminated by the street lamps, a large black-clad man approached. She recognized his wide-armed gait, and bubbles fizzed in her belly until he reached her and pulled her close.
Faust held her for a while, his thumping chest and the occasional car passing by the only indication Faith was in the real world and not some fevered dream.
"Why'd you need to see me so badly?" Faith asked.
"I love you."
Faith stuttered, pulled away to look at him. The base of her skull connected with the top of her spine as she stared up. "I... I love you too."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
"You hesitated."
"I'm sorry."
"You don't have to apologize. I know what you think of me now. You think I'm crazy. How can you trust someone like me? Someone with anger issues and all kinds of fucked up shit going on inside him."
"I never saw that before," Faith whispered. "For almost a year, you've been the sweetest person I've ever known. You wouldn't touch me if I was drunk... You protected me. And you made sure we were both ready before anything serious happened. Now that's all... I hope it's not gone."
"It's not. I swear. I just want you to love me the same as you always have."
"It's hard," Faith's voice trembled.
"I know."
"After what happened... It's hard to picture that same boy who took me for walks and watched movies with me. It's like you're this whole different person. Someone I might not have messed around with if I'd known you were..."
"Yeah, yeah. I get it. I ruined everything. But I'll do anything to keep you with me. You're the only good thing in my life. Please, Faith. Don't let this one mistake change us."
"That's asking a lot. I didn't let this happen. You did."
"Which is why I'm willing to do anything to make it right."
"What you did is one of the most horrific things I could imagine. It's hard to feel safe—"
"I'd never hurt you. Never. I'd rather die."
Faust bent at the knees and went down before her. He encircled her torso and pressed his cheek against her stomach. "I love you so much."
She stroked his head, rattling with sobs waiting to burst from her throat. When he stood at his full height again, she buried her face between his jacket and shirt like she had done so many times before, tears soaking into the black.
"Will you say you're sorry to my dad? If we stay together, you have to. There's no other way I'll be able to do this."
"Yes. Anything."
"And mean it! He's a good man, the only man I have as an example. And even though he's strict, and religious, and stubborn, I love him."
"Yes, I promise. I'll make up with your dad if he lets me."
"He'll let you. He knows you're important to me."
"Don't worry. I'll do everything I can." Faust said, fishing the cash from Linda Conte and stuffing it in Faith's hands. "Put this somewhere safe."
"What's this for?"
"Saving for my own apartment. Or a car. Whatever we need first."
"Why can't you keep it?"
"I'll just waste it on cigarettes and weed."
"Where did this come from?"
"Gave some rich kid a drum lesson. Then his mom tried to fuck me."
"What?"
"Yeah. Made me realize how much I only want you... For the rest of my life."
"Faust—"
"Let's not get into it now. I've had a fucked up day."
Faith folded the cash into her wallet and dropped it in her purse. She took Faust's hand and led him to the bench swings where she'd had her first puff of weed from a joint he'd kept in his jacket. Again, Faith wondered if she would have stayed with him if she'd known then what she knew now. No matter how she framed it, how high she pictured the flames licking off the steeple of the church he'd destroyed, Faith wanted him and all his darkness.
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Just Fucking Leave Me Alone (The Outer Banks: Rafe Cameron)
a/n: this song makes me want to absolutely fuck shit up. I love to write a sweet and happy Rafe because I know that’s what we want. Unfortunately, that’s not canon…so here’s the asshole we all know and love. Also, took some lines out because they were repetitive or I didn’t have anything to write for them lmao!
summary: female reader (she/her) x Rafe Cameron Y/N and Rafe had been struggling, it was clear to everyone. But Rafe was a hopeless case, and as much as Y/N loved him and wanted to stay it was too much. She was miserable with him. With the drugs and anger issues, it had become a toxic environment very quickly. tw: domestic abuse, mentions of alcohol/drugs, swearing word count: 1.3k
When I'm away from you—I'm happier than ever
You hadn’t realize how much alone time you truly needed. You love Rafe, you did. But recently, all the fighting and arguing felt useless. Working on yourself was something you knew had to happen so that you could continue to grow, you just didn’t know what it would lead to. You were happier on your own. You didn’t need this relationship as much as thought you did. Distancing yourself from Rafe and surrounding yourself in school, college applications, and extracurricular was refreshing. You were truly happier than when you were with Rafe, and it killed you to admit it.
I knew when I asked you to be cool about what I was telling you—You'd do the opposite of what you said you'd do—And I'd end up more afraid
“Are you always fucking flirting with that jackass” “Rafe, I told you. It’s not like that. JJ and I are just friends.” He shook his head and scoffed. Before you knew it he retracted his hand before slapping you across the face. You rose your hand up to where your cheek was now stinging. You knew he had anger issues, but he had never laid a hand on you until this moment. You looked up at him, as your hand remained on your cheek and tears began to well in your eyes. He grabbed your hand, gently pulling you to the freezer, where he grabbed an ice pack. He wrapped it in a towel before gently putting it on your face. “You know I love you, right?” he asked. Still in shock and scared your voice would waver if you tried to answer you weakly nodded your head.
You called me again, drunk in your Benz—Driving home under the influence—You scared me to death, but I'm wasting my breath—'Cause you only listen to your fucking friends
When you were awaken by a call at three in the morning you weren’t sure what to think. Reaching over you grabbed the phone without checking to see who it was from. “Hello?” you answered groggily. “Babe, need you to wish me luck!” You sat up slightly, “Rafe, what are you talking about?” You knew he had gone out that night with Barry and had probably drunk and done more coke than he should’ve. “B and I are about to race these assholes.” You could hear the engine revving in the back. “No, babe, don’t ok. I’ll come get you. Where are you?” You could hear Barry laughing in the background, “You always let this bitch tell you what to do, babe?” he mocked. You could hear Rafe scoff, “Of course not.” As you stayed on the line you could hear the car rev again before you heard the sound of tires sliding and accelerating. When you heard a loud bang, you gasped. “RAFE,” you screamed into the phone. It was a moment before you heard loud laughing. “THOSE DUMBASSES,” you heard Barry yell. “Rafe, what happened,” you asked, worry and frustration evident in your voice. “Fucking hell Y/N, I’m fine. They clipped the back of my car. I’ll come see you later.” And then the line went dead.
I don't relate to you, no—'Cause I'd never treat me this shitty—You make me hate this city
Another argument that led to you crying on the floor of Rafe’s room. It seemed like every little thing was starting to set him off. The rational and caring guy you first fell in love with was long gone. Now whenever you two got into it, it was a screaming match before it would end with him hitting or pushing you. This time he was upset when he had found out that you were planning to go to college on the west coast, thousands of miles away from him. Aside from the better weather and the programs they offered, you would be lying to yourself if the distance away from your problems in the figure eight wasn’t appealing. This was it, you were done feeling this way, done with him making you feel this way. If he really loved you he wouldn’t treat you like this. He would support your decisions, support you.
And I don't talk shit about you on the internet—Never told anyone anything bad—'Cause that shit's embarrassing, you were my everything—And all that you did was make me fucking sad
It had been months since you had broken up with Rafe. You avoided him and talking to/about him as much as you could. No one had even suspected why the two of you had broken up. To the public eye, you were the perfect couple. You kept him in control, but that was a lie, at least now it was. It may have started off well, but the past few months were miserable and left you feeling vulnerable and insecure. You loved Rafe so much, you couldn’t even truly process what had gone down between the two of you. More importantly, you would never let anyone know. Your friends and family knew how much you loved him, if they ever found out what the relationship was really like you would be devastated and embarrassed. He was someone that, at the beginning, you thought you could spend forever with.
Never paid any mind to my mother or friends, so I shut 'em all out for you 'cause I was a kid
Spending time with your friends, the pogues, always cheered you up. Despite the struggles that you faced in life with family or with Rafe, your friends were always there to pick you up. “How have you been Y/N? We haven’t really seen you around lately,” Kie asked. And that’s true, you hadn’t. It was no secret that Rafe hated the pogues, but when he threatened to break up with you if you hung out with them you did what you thought a good girlfriend would do, you cut them off. “Uh yeah, sorry about that. I was just so busy with school and college apps, you know,” you said unconvincingly. She nodded her head and gave you a concerned look, “Right,” she replied. You nodded your head before taking in the scene in front of you. Your friends sitting on the boat, getting high, drunk, and living life with each other, FOR each other. You had missed it, missed them.
You ruined everything good—Always said you were misunderstood—Made all my moments your own—Just fucking leave me alone
The last few months had been great. Reconnecting with your friends and family had grounded you and reminded you of the person you were and motivated you to become an even better version of yourself. Deciding to attend UC San Diego for biochemistry, you were excited to be surrounded by all your loved ones at your graduation/going away party. Everything was going exceptionally well before you heard a loud crash and the sound of glass breaking. Rafe had shoved JJ into a waiter, causing them to knock over a table. “Rafe, what are you doing here? You need to leave right now,” you said forcefully. “Please, Y/N. I love you. I just need you right now. My dad and I—“ “No, Rafe,” you cut him off. “You don’t get to come in here and ruin my party, which you were not invited to, might I add.” You grabbed his hand, dragging him out of your backyard and to the front of the house. “Rafe, please! go,” you said again. He gave you an incredulous look, “Are you fucking serious?” he asked, raising his voice in the process. “YOU’RE JUST GOING TO THROW AWAY EVERYTHING WE HAD,” he was practically screaming at this point. “RAFE, GO, JUST FUCKING LEAVE ME ALONE,” you screamed back. He looked at you for a second, stunned in silence before turning around and returning to his car. He screamed out loud, punching the side of his door so hard he left a dent. You watched as he sped away. Tears began to fall down your face. You had loved him, and you knew that what he needed was help. You just couldn’t be the one to give him it, not anymore. You had tried to help him get clean several times, he just refused to listen.
a/n: If you like my work please support by liking/reblogging. Also, feel free to message me about ideas. I haven’t written in a while because I don’t have a lot of time, but when inspiration hits i’ll sit down for hours :)
Masterlist
#teentvimagines#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron imagine#obx imagine rafe#obx imagines#obx imagine#Spotify#obx rafe cameron
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[also do u think the only reason people have any sexual encounters is bc of attraction? bc unfortunately we aren't living in a utopia where that is the case. i would invite you to join the real world where people constantly do shit that they don't want to, shit that they never would do if they felt no pressure to, and shit that is against their nature.]
how you got that from anon asking if you think sex happens at random is....confusing. kinda sound like asexuals, who still fuck, saying they've had sexual encounters regardless of being not “”sexually attracted“”, to whoever they're bedding. this isn't something as simplistic as go shopping with a friend even if you don't want to, this is about sex. it's glaringly obvious people frame het sex, which they gave meaningful consent to, as ambiguous. it'd be interesting to see how you define sexual encounters people consent to, but "they don't want to", and how it's materially different from unwanted sexual contact. alsooo, i really want to know how women who go out of the way to fuck men, you know, since dick doesn't randomly pop into a pussy by a matter of chance, is the result of a lack of a “utopia”? i'm trying to understand your thought process behind that.
where i disagree with asexuals arguing that isn’t some rapey victim-blamey “well you agreed to it so you must’ve wanted it and you must be feeling sexual desire”, but rather “well if you don’t want to have sex, you shouldn’t force yourself to for the other persons sake. it’s not healthy to have sex you don’t actually want”. so your false equivalence doesn’t even work here.
you lot think the only situation someone could ever be in is they go out, look for a guy, initiate sex with him and show no signs of not wanting it whatsoever, and then regret it the next day. it’s not as simple as that. ive repeatedly talked about my own story to explain that and yet when i do y’all call it “traumadumping”, which is laughable bc you guys seem to acknowledge it was unwanted and traumatic when i talk about it yet argue it wasn’t when referring to it. my story is a guy at school pursued me for 4 years, was repeatedly rejected by me, and i repeatedly made it clear im not interested. and then when i got raped at 14, he was among the only ppl not to turn against me, and pushed me to be with him and would literally get me drugs and alcohol & admit afterwards it was in hopes that it’d make me want to have sex with him. during this time i tried repeatedly to leave the relationship yet he wouldn’t let me leave it. during sexual encounters i was either on substances, dissociated, or asleep due to a sedating medication. when i was conscious, id force my eyes shut the entire time and either attempt suicide or self-harm afterwards, best case scenario i would simply cry my eyes out. that’s the only guy i ~consented~ to have sex with. plenty of the lesbians i talked to who also had ~consented~ to be with a guy had faced CSA, rape, abuse, and had trauma causing them to dissociate and have a poor sense of boundaries. they also have similar stories to me. none of my story sounds like the strawman you guys keep using. how is it “materially different”? well, i didn’t vocally say no to to it. i was too scared to, not because he was threatening but because i was already traumatised and my only experience with sex was having my agency and boundaries disrespected. i was already the school whore for being raped. i was already considered worthless and “used” and “ruined” and “damaged goods”. i was taught to protect my virginity and that my virginity gave me worth & some sort of desirability, and i failed. and in my traumatised 15 year old head, that took away the only valid reason for saying no. and i had learned that saying no = rape = worse to experience. lastly i thought that id eventually grow to want it & like it. i thought not wanting it meant something was wrong with me, esp since other ppl at my school would say im stupid and that they’d judge me if i don’t agree to be with him since he ~clearly loves me sooo much~. whether he was aware what he was doing and that i was crying, that it would push me to self-harming behaviours and the like, i have no idea, but he was pretty aware that i did not want him nor want to be with him bc id tell him and would get substances to try to change that by his own admission. and it’s mainly my fault for not fighting hard enough or making it known i didn’t want any of it, and for playing along at first. doesn’t mean im into men tho. i know my own body and mind better and know i have never & continue not to feel any attraction towards men.
i don’t know how many times i need to reiterate my story, reiterate that it was traumatising, that i was traumatised, that i continue to deal with trauma, that i do not want to sit here discoursing about my trauma & justify my past passivity & pushover tendencies as a rape victim, and that pushing me to justify my past and thus causing me to recount my trauma triggers my PTSD & leads to me dealing with at least a week of nightmares. yet y’all continue reaching out to me and expecting me to explain in depth how agreeing to something isn’t the same as desiring nor wanting it, and how the world isn’t as black and white as u pretend. someone uttering the words “ok” “sure” “yes” doesn’t somehow = attraction. especially not when someone’s disconnected from themselves and frequently dissociated from their trauma. if u wanna keep arguing otherwise, do it on ur own blogs and leave me alone.
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G O L D
chapter one
summary: [y/n is a young stripper who is adored by many men. harry styles is a man who loves to carry danger with him]
word count: 4222
pairing: stripper!y/n and gangleader!harry
warnings: violence, vulgar language, sexual acts, alcohol and drug
to be honest, i was a little hesitant to post it here and i don’t know if this story will blow up on tumblr or get many notes but that’s the last thing on my mind right now. i just want to share what i’ve been working on that kept you guys waiting for almost a year lol sorry about that. But yes, she’s finally here!! I posted first on wattpad before i put it here, I felt like the only way to reach out more people to read it it’s through that. And also, i decided to use a name on wattpad but I’d use the term ‘y/n’ on tumblr. Enjoy it all my loves! Give me feedbacks!💜
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Harry fixes the collar of his sheer black shirt before tucking it neatly inside the black trousers he's currently wearing. He normally goes something more extravagant for going out. His closet is filled with colourful ruffles and Hawaiian shirts along with 'more than one colour' suits. However tonight, he needs to lay low for a bit. Especially when he's about to step into one of the most famous strip clubs in New York in an hour to meet up with the manager.
He's very much aware of the reputation he has put on himself out there. Though there's no use of camouflage and hiding, he still doesn't want a cause a scene,
Yet.
His hand lifts a bottle of Tom Ford from the dresser before spraying it twice on his neck. Stepping away from the full length mirror, he grabs his cross necklace from the bed before putting the accessory around his neck as he walks out of the room.
"Talk to me Reece" his heavy accent echoes the hallway as he walks downstairs, watching his few men pocketing their weapons,
Reece, the brown skinned man with tattoos nods. "He's there. Just got a word from Bianco. He appears isn't expecting you, Boss. However I do believe he knows you're coming soon. The club is far too crowded than usual but Bianco is taking care of that right now." He informs, showing him the message on the phone,
Harry can only scoff, nodding at him as a thank you. "That son of a bitch should've. Owes me more than fucking money." He mutters, inserting the .45 ACP inside his gun holster. "The car's ready?"
Nodding, Reece leads Harry down towards the basement. "As requested. Lamborghini Murcielago in blue hera. Pack with 640 PS and 471 kW, rules around 213 mph if you consider on hit and run. Still, I pack a standard Aeropack wing if you wanna go slow tonight. The windows? Bulletproof. In case anyone tries to kill you." Harry knows he's only joking about the last part. No one dares try to kill him before he does it. It's a pattern that everyone knows by now.
Harry lets out a low whistle, softly shaking his head as the machine beauty appears. Tracing lightly with his ring cladded fingers along the hood of the car. "Not planning to hit and run tonight, Reece. Not even thinking about racing down the street with my weapon outside the window. You don't have anything more. . . Less attractive?" He questions, still staring at the gorgeous car ahead of him,
"You know I don't do less, boss." Reece winks playfully, laughing to himself as he watches Harry roll his eyes. "Besides. Who knows you'll get yourself a bird tonight, eh? Take her out on a stroll before bringing her home to your place. Women love fast cars." He comments, pressing the button on the keys as the door opens,
Humming as a response, Harry walks towards the driver's seat, "I don't date anymore, thought my right hand man knew tha' " He speaks, words laced with seriousness while grabbing the keys from Reece's fingers,
He can only sigh and nod his head. "Understood. Yet, Kendra is like what? Two years ago? Gotta get yourself something better, boss. You deserve it. So do it tonight." He suggests, watching him going inside the car before shutting the door,
Harry smiles a bit, inserting the keys inside the ignition before starting the car. "Noted."
The dark haired man steps away from the car. Giving Harry a salute. "I'll be right behind you. See you there."
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Y/N Y/L/N stands in front of the mirror as she applies another layer of red lipstick on her plump lips. Securing the tube back as she puckers her mouth to see if it fits the colour for tonight. She twirls, watching carefully how the gold lingerie clads perfectly around her breasts and down to her curvy hips and thick thighs.
She stops once her plump ass is facing the mirror, admiring how beautiful and big her bum is in the lingerie. It's a compliment really. She loves working out to give her bum a bit bigger. It's not that she hopes she'll gain attention from people, she just loves her body. She worships every piece of it despite what other people think of it. Insecurity was her biggest enemy but not anymore. After reading lots of books and poems about self love she learns that there's nothing she should be ashamed of.
Grabbing a bottle of lotion from her table, she squeezes the bottle into her hand before rubbing her bum with the cold cream, rubbing it neatly to make sure she doesn't miss a spot.
Another thing, she loves moisturizing her plump flesh before the show. It's sexy
"Joe is asking for you." She hears a voice coming from behind, craning her neck to see her closest co-worker Violet, already in her usual purple wig and attire as she stands beside Angelina. "I love working as a stripper but he really needs to learn to be patient and. . . shut up, i guess?"
Y/N releases a small laugh, moving her long dark wavy hair to rest on her chest. "I know, I know. Jesus, I've told him fifteen minutes prior that I'll take longer than usual." She slips on her gold heels and turns to face Violet, who's biting her lip as she stares at Angelina's body up and down. "Okay, how do i look?"
Violet raises her eyebrow, as if it's something her friend shouldn't be asking. "You kidding? You look like a sex goddess. Gonna get all the men on their knees for you, girl"
Scoffing, she shoots her a wink and a flirtatious smile. "Old men with beer bellies? No thanks. I'd rather make out with Gordon." She replies, seemingly disgusted about the thought of grinding on an old man's lap tonight.
"Is that a bet I hear?" Violet questions, leaning towards her a bit as she waits for her friend’s response. "Please tell me that it is so I can earn extra cash tonight."
Gordon is a perverted bartender that always keeps his eye on Y/N throughout her routine. He's 40 and is always asking Angelina on a 'date' and by date, he means her ass on his lap. Clearly something Y/N isn't too fond of. Him specifically. Violet and Y/N have always made a joke about him, something they could make a playful banter in every chance they get.
Plus, she heard he's married. Isn't he supposed to find another job rather than here? If his wife found out what kind of a sleaze bag she married, she would be crushed,
Rolling her eyes, Y/N shoves her playfully by the arm. "Ha ha, very funny" she answers, resuming to untangle her hair from knots.
Violet laughs, pinching her on the hip as she lets outa small squeal. "Just messing with you, baby. Good luck out there. Put the rest of us to shame tonight. . . Like any other night"
Y/N flips her off, yet knowing it's the truth. She's not trying to sound like a condescending bitch here but none of the girls here are actually capable to do what Y/N does. That's what makes men attracted to her. She knows what she's doing. She knows how to make a man hard.
"By the way, you heard what Joe's talking about earlier?" Violet asks, toeing off her heels as she exhales a relief sigh. "Damn those heels are killing me" She mumbles,
"No... What's about?" She turns her head to face Violet for her to explain, causing her to shrug her shoulders,
"Don't know much about it. . . But i hear Harry Styles is coming here to meet up with him. Something about transaction or shit" She waves it off, whispering it to Y/N, looking around to make sure no one is eavesdropping,
She almost chokes on her saliva after hearing Violet says the name. "Harry Styles?! The. . . mafia boss of New York..?" Her eyes widen at the possibility of the most dangerous man in the city paying a visit to the place she works at,
Nodding, Violet answers, "Yup. That Harry Styles. He's the devil. Let's hope this place doesn't turn into a war zone."
Y/N has heard about this Harry guy. The most feared man of New York. She does know a little bit of the relations between Joe and Mr. Styles. Almost every night she could hear Joe freaking out about this man. She may not know him that close, hell she had never even met him in person but people talk. One thing she learned about hearing his reputation, you don't ever want to mess with this guy.
Violet snaps her fingers to snap Y/N out of her thoughts. "Less worrying, girl. Come on, you got a show to put on yes?"
"Y-yeah. Fuck. . . now i'm scared" She breathes out, looking at her reflection in the mirror one last time. Calming down her mind.
After giving Violet a kiss on a cheek and receiving a tap on her ass, she takes a deep breath as she opens the beaded curtain and walk out to the club. Jhene Aiko is playing through the speakers, thanks to her who chose the music for tonight. She can already feel all eyes on her as she struts down confidently, putting on a smirk and winking at couple of men here and there. As much as it disgusts her, she grazes her hand along a man's arm who's biting his lip and looking at her up and down.
'What the fuck did i do to deserve this?' she thinks to herself, staring at the man in front of her who's probably the same age as her father. The thought of it makes her gag,
She gives the man a wink before getting up on the stage, hearing a few hollers from behind. reaching out to wrap her hand around the silver pole and her leg hooking up to support her body. Slowly twirling with her head thrown back and closes her eyes with money being toss at her direction before letting go and crutching down on her knees, moving close towards the same man earlier. He slips in a couple of hundred dollar bills inside her panties, causing the others to do the same.
This may be not how she pictures her success but damn, by the end of the week, her bank account can go from three to six digits.
She's definitely gonna hold on to that,
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It takes Harry close to thirty minutes to get here. He blames it all on the traffic, cursing to himself every time he stops at red lights. He parks his car close to the entry before he exits from the vehicle. He looks over his shoulder to find a familiar black car driving towards her, noting to himself it's Reece's. Seeing him wave his hand to make sure he's coming in later.
He clears his throat, clenching his jaw as he walks into the club. Reece wasn't lying, the club is too packed for tonight. As if God knew what is about to get down tonight and isn't going to let him get away with witnesses. He really needs to play safe for a while tonight.
As he strides through the room to find a table he has reserved for, a few half naked girls walk right pass him, stroking his exposed chest and grabbing his shoulders. Most of them are gorgeous and he's tempted to touch their soft skin yet he has to hold it. Not that he isn't interested because he's definitely taking someone back to his place tonight--fucking Reece had to be right-- but he needs to get his head in the game for at least an hour before planning to do so.
Gently, he pulls back a chair for him to sit. He specifically asks for the furthest table so no one can figure out what he's about to do tonight. A glass of whiskey has been set on his table before he got here, waiting for Joe's arrival. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Reece and Bianco walking over to his table. One of them gives him a nod to acknowledge his presence.
Harry lifts the glass up to his lips and take a sip of it. Honestly, he hates doing all of this dirty work. Sure, he's the boss. But he despises complicated things. He should've known not to trust Joe about anything, yet when he begged on his knees with a gun knocked against his head as he spat out a bunch of threats to the weakened man, he thought why not? If Joe didn't get to fulfill his demands, he gets to kill him either way. It's always a pleasure for him to do so.
"Mr. Styles! Ay, i'm so happy to see you. You look a lot cleaner than i saw you the last time, eh?" Joe's voice causes Harry's green eyes averts from the scene on the crowd. His eyebrows are knitted, jaw tightened as he taps his fingers against the table, causing the rings he's wearing to knock.
He owes him money worth $50,000. And this man had the nerve to walk in and act like nothing happened.
He is definitely going to kill him.
"Stop with all that shit and sit the fuck down. You owe me something Joe." Harry warns, pointing at him as Harry's men forces the dark haired male to sit down making him gulp. "You owe me 50 grand for that package you piece of shit."
Joe couldn't feel more terrified as he catches a glimpse of Harry's gun on the table, facing towards him. "I know Harry, I know. I didn't forget, okay? It's just the money is tight right now. The girls aren't getting the amount of money they used to be getting." Joe tries to reason but Harry isn't having any of it,
"Stop being a fucking pussy and blame your girls for the money you've lost. I'm running out of patience here, Joe. If you don't give me the money by the end of the week, you're a dead man. I still have one body bag left in my car and I wouldn't mind writing your name on it." Harry grits his teeth, looking at him with a dark look in his eyes. Hand gripping tightly around the glass
"No man, I need more than that. Please, I'll do whatever you ask me to. You will have your money man I promised." Joe begs, looking at Harry with hopeful eyes.
Harry finds it quite disgusting to see someone like him beg for mercy-- for the second time--or anything at all to be honest. He find that gesture is weak and vulnerable which makes him very easy to manipulate over. "I don't give out second chances."
Joe hears a gun clicks behind, he doesn't need to know what's going on. He knows one of the two men behind him is ready to blow his brains out. "Harry man. . . One more. . . Give me one more"
Harry isn't a patient man. He doesn't want people beg. He doesn't want him to beg. But he finds it interesting to see how it goes, playing along this little game of his.
"Fine. you give me your best girl and i'll give you two months." Harry offers, cocking his eyebrow as he leans back to relax himself. "No more than that."
Joe's eyes widen at Harry's demand. It's impossible to collect a 50 grand in two months, especially when he's short on it. He needs more than that. Still, he thinks two months is better than nothing. "Okay. . . Agreed. Just tell me which girl you want or-or i could bring one or two here, man. Take your pick."
Harry can only hum in response, scanning his eyes over the scene. Dozens of girls dancing on stage, few of them even has their bras taken off. It seems to him, none of these girls on the room is his type.
Until his green eyes fall on a certain slightly curvy woman with her leg wrapped around the pole.
Her long dark hair brushing lightly against the floor as she bend her back a bit. He observes the way her body move so dirty yet gracefully around the pole, the way she bites onto her pink glossed lips and how her brown eyes manage to flirt with the crowd and had them lure into her eyes including himself. He swears this girl just steps out of his daydreams. She looks perfect.
He admires how she circle her hips painfully slow, jealous how he isn't close enough to watch her plump flesh near his strong figure.
"Her. I want her" Harry points at the girl he can't take his eyes off. His voice sounds too possessive but he doesn't care if he does. He's too enhanced with the way she moves on that stage and he loves how she swats those dirty hands who seems desperate to cope a feel with a dirty look on her face.
'Seems like a fighter' he thinks to himself
"Y/N? You want her?" Joe asks after he realises who Harry's pointing at.
"Y/N? That's a gorgeous name. She's not taken is she? Not that i care anyway. She's a dime from what i can see here." He says, not tearing his eyes off of her while he sips on his drink. "You're gonna give me her to me aren't you?" Harry asks, his eyes are threatening enough for Joe so he nods his head as a response.
"Yes. Of course. If that's what you want."
"Fuck yes i do. Bring me to one of your rooms. I want a private from her" He demands before gulping down his drink, standing up to head over to the back. Not before glancing at the gorgeous woman one last time who stuffs a few dollar bills in her panties.
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After what it feels like forever dancing on stage and have men whistling at her to go over and give them more, she finally sit herself down on a chair in her dressing room and take a deep breath. Moaning in relief as she pulls her heels off while setting her timer on because she only has thirty minutes to rest before going back out there again. She leans back against the chair, sighing in a pure bliss.
She can hear a few girls talking and laughing while preparing themselves for their performance tonight, wishing she could just join in because Violet informs her earlier there's some juicy gossip she needs to talk about but she cant take it. She's too tired.
She has only closes her eyes for 10 minutes until a familiar voice speaks out,
"Where's Y/N?"
She groans internally. Can never mistake that voice soon as she hears it. Her manager, who sounds like he's panting, voice firm as if is an emergency to call her out like that. Y/N still has her eyes shut as she raises her hand up, not having the energy to respond.
"Okay, good. Y/N. You don't need to go back out there again. There's a special guest I need you to entertain. He's already waiting in the red room."
She nods and hum, only to realize what he means as her eyes bugs out.
Wait, what?
She's quick to turn around, brows furrows and mouth hangs open, not believing what she has just heard. "Pardon?"
"There's a man. A guy who I work with, waiting in one of the rooms. He specifically asked for you. I need you to at least give him an hour." Joe notifies, running his hand over his face as if he's stressed about something,
"You want me to give a lap dance to your co-worker?" She raises her eyebrow, not believing what he just asked her
Joe sighs angrily, "it's technically not--Y/N... please. No more questions, just go over there."
"Who's the guy?" she ignores his orders as she stands, crossing her arms across her chest. "Jesus, fuck. I really need my hair to breath" she mutters, brushing down her long dark brown hair,
"Harry Styles."
Y/N freezes in an instant. Looking up to stare at Joe in the eye to see if he's joking, he can only nod his head to confirm her questioning look. " you're shitting me."
"I'm not," Joe replies, walking over to her, not wanting the other girls to hear. "Y/N, I owe him money. I haven't got them yet and--"
She scoffs, rolling her eyes and continue messing with her hair a bit more. "Not my problem."
He reaches out to grab her elbow, pulling her harshly causing her to stumble a bit. "Y/N, please... He wanted to kill me out there earlier. The guy brought a gun for God's sake. He gave me a month but until then... he wants you."
"You know i'm not a hooker" Y/N defeatedly sighs. She wants to help him, she does but it sounds like he's selling her off for a month to this notorious and dangerous guy who is named to be the deadliest man alive by the people of New York.
She loves money but no fucking way she's willing to die for it.
"I didn't say you were" He roughly says, hand gripping tightly on her arm. "Just... do it" He let her go, tired of the waiting because he doesn't want to make Harry pissed off now,
The girl sighs angrily, squeezing her eyes shut as she hesitates for a while. What the fuck did she get herself into?
"Fine. just give me a moment."
Giving her a smile, Joe thanks her by giving her a kiss on the cheek, telling her the door number Harry is in before walking out of the room. Soon after he walks out, she feels sick in her stomach. How could she ever go face to face with a man with blood in his hands? She's about to give this man a lap dance. Who knew he might've ask for more?
So now, as she finishes re-applying a layer of red lipstick, she heads out. Walking to the back of the room in a slow pace. Heart beating loud and fast as she's about to come face to face with this man. Still, she needs to play it cool. God really fucking hates her,
If he really does exists.
She takes a deep breath before opening the brown door carefully, pushing it open. Her knees almost buckle at the sight of Harry Styles, lounging on the leather couch. A cigarette squeeze between his fingers. legs spread open as if it's an invitation already made for her. His head turns towards the door, a smirk graces upon his face.
She's not going to lie. He is indeed dashingly handsome. With his arms resting on the back of the couch making his biceps look a bit bigger. He's got killer looks too. she studies. Sexy smile, and stubble which creates a sexier look on his face. She catches a glimpse of a silver cross necklace resting against his broad chest. His eyes are sharp. Looking at her up and down with his bottom lip bitten between his teeth.
"My, my" he lowly whistles, watching her every move as she enters the room. Locking the door behind her. "I wasn't wrong. You are a fucking dime."
Y/N giggles-- though feeling scared shitless-- and run her hands over her hair as she struts her way towards his figure. Purposely swaying her ass side to side a bit to tease him. "Mr.Harry Styles. . . I heard a lot about you. Word on the street is that you're a man that likes to carry a danger" she smirks seductively as she stands in between his open legs, dragging her finger slowly down her chest.
Her angelic voice is like music to his ears,
"Yeah?" he smirks, eyes falling to the curve of her breasts. "Hope that doesn't scare you, doll. All i want is a dance from you, that's all. I also heard that you are their favourite girl. After seeing you danced on that stage, I now know why."
Again, she giggles. A small blush creeping on her cheeks, hopefully he doesn't see it. "You're a flirt aren't you, Harry? You do this to every girl?"
He places his hands slowly on her plump ass, he doesn't know if he's allowed to touch but he doesn't give a shit. She seems isn't bothered by it. He wants this girl and he wants her now.
"Only to those who i find interesting, baby. Now, are you going to show me what you got?" He asks, looking up to meet her brown eyes as he squeezes her flesh.
With a devilish smirk, she slowly sets herself down on his lap which causes him to let out a soft groan. She runs her hands down to his tattooed chest and toys with his cross necklace for a bit before whispering in his ear, "sit tight and relax, Mr. Styles. I'll be your good girl for tonight"
next chapter
*
i really don’t want to write a super long chapter, because i’m afraid it’ll bore you guys so maybe--i hope-- this is enough. anyway, i hope you guys enjoy this first chapter, let me know if you guys hate it or love it! I’ll appreciate it. love you guys!
#harry styles x reader#harry styles blurbs#harry styles imagines#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#harry styles fanfictions#dom!harry#dom!harry styles#mafia!harry#mafia!harry styles#gang!harry#gangleader!harry#daddy!harry#daddy!harry styles
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MAGIC SHOP | JJK (04)
Description: You and Jungkook were best friends who were in love with each other. What would happen when Soojin, your half sister who you’re trying to impress, told you she’s in love with Jungkook too?
Alternatively:
“Would you believe me if I said that I was scared of everything too?”
Genre: childhood best friends to lovers, family drama, angst, fluff, idiots to lovers, pining, slice of life au.
Pairing: Architect!Jungkook x Architect!Reader
Word Count: 3k
SERIES: CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 5
Song for this chapter: I started writing right after watching Kook’s live 😭 my heart can’t handle his cuteness please 😭😭 so yeah enjoy his cover of At My Worst while reading this update. ty.
Warnings: violence, child trauma, infidelity.
"Yes," your heart cracked. "I will be happy if you date my sister."
Jungkook didn't say anything. He just scraped his tongue against his teeth, blinking dumbly at you.
You swallowed hard.
His reaction was frightening. Jungkook never looked at you using his dead eyes. His stare was normally full of adoration.
You wondered if this was how he was going to look at you when he started to date Soojin.
Could you handle it?
Your heart was barely surviving now that Jungkook turned away from you—like he couldn't tolerate your face, like it was driving him insane.
He walked away and tears fell down your cheeks.
It hurt.
You wanted to call him, to tell him you didn't mean what you said. But it wasn't necessary.
Jungkook looked back even though you didn't say anything.
He watched as fat tears rolled down your cheeks.
He gasped, eyes turning wide.
He made his way towards you.
"Too fucking bad," and then he engulfed you into a very tight hug. "Because it doesn't make me happy. I don't want to date your sister..."
You bit your bottom lip, tears were still filling your eyes. Jungkook could feel it soaking his suit. He released himself from the hug just so he could cup your face and wipe your tears away.
"I can't do it," he shook his head. He couldn't do two things. First, he looked back because he realized he couldn't walk away from you. Second: "I can't date Soojin. She's not you..."
Jungkook caressed your cheeks once more.
"Did you hear me? She's not you, okay? She doesn't even have to give me time to think because I already know what I want, and it's not her. Never her..."
You didn't know what to say so you only did what you think would best express your feelings.
You kissed him on the mouth.
Everything be damned. For a moment you didn't want to think about the consequences of your action. It's just you, Jungkook, the moon, and the stars.
He moved his lips, deepening the kiss, silently telling you that he wanted this too, that just like you, he was done pretending like his heart wasn't going to burst whenever you were around.
You completed each other. Broken or whole, you knew you needed him.
He needed you too.
"Just you, baby..." He pulled away from the kiss, but he pressed his lips on your forehead. "My tiger..."
You were still dazed because of the sudden turn of events. You expected this night to end with you alone in your bed; however, life was full of surprises.
Right now, you were inside an unfamiliar car, but with a familiar body next to yours. Jungkook wrapped his arms around your shoulders as he instructed the uber driver where to go.
He didn't care if he needed to pay double if it meant he got to take you to his home.
You ended up in Jungkook's bed that night. You didn't do anything aside from cuddling. Your best friend was warm and you were cold.
You enjoyed trailing feathery kisses along his jawline.
He was ticklish though.
"Hmm," Jungkook chuckled, craning his neck so your lips landed on the base of his throat.
"Big, bad Kookie is ticklish, huh?" You teased.
He pouted his lips, defending himself.
"I'm not a bad boy!" It truly surprised you how he could always snatch your heart when he acted like a baby boy. God. He was so precious.
"You are! Don't you remember threatening your father and my parents?" You wrapped your arms around him while he tucked your head under his chin.
Both of you reminisced about what happened seventeen years ago.
You just turned nine years old that time. As usual, your mother insisted that you should have a big party. Your father agreed even though he was one hundred percent sure that he couldn't attend.
You and his legitimate daughter were born on the same year and same day. Of course Taemin would want to celebrate Soojin's natal day more. It was why he never attended yours.
You were only nine, but you were starting to understand that your father wouldn't be available on your special day so you didn't really expect much. You weren't as clingy as you were when you were seven years old.
You still didn't know that Taemin had another family. You just knew that he was busy at work. However, this belief had been shattered when your mother realized that enough is enough.
She couldn't share Taemin anymore. She was fed up. He never gave you and your mother enough attention. She didn't understand why he couldn't be at your party just this once.
It was a beautiful day. Your mother decided to celebrate your ninth year of being alive in your mansion's garden. The place was decorated to perfection. There were decors inspired by different Disney films, there were also colorful balloons, and delicious foods.
Your mother didn't invite a lot of people because she didn't have many friends. Besides, you told her that you only wanted to invite Jungkook and his father. You liked uncle Jong-in since he was kind to you. He usually drove you and Jungkook home after school. He even did things your father was supposed to do in the first place.
Uncle Taemin would buy you toys, get your report card in school, and teach you things only fathers could do.
Jong-in didn't disappoint you. He was early at your party too. He helped decorate the place with Jungkook.
Their efforts were in vain though. You didn't get to celebrate your birthday. What was the point? Your father wasn't around and your mother was intoxicated because of both drugs and alcohol.
"Fuck you, asshole! I'm going to ruin your family! My daughter doesn't deserve this shit!" Your mother screamed, eyes bloodshot.
Taemin had an impeccable timing. He arrived at your house five minutes after your mother decided that the party was over.
You waited three hours for Taemin. You and your mother were miserable while he was having the time of his life being the best dad for Soojin.
"Hey," Jong-in lightly grabbed your mother's hand, pulling her close so he could shield Taemin from her violence. "Calm down. We can fix this without hurting anyone..."
She couldn't be stopped though. Taemin's presence brought the worst out of her. Your mother started destroying everything she saw.
She ripped the paper decors Jong-in and Jungkook spent time making. She also popped the balloons and broke the plates.
All Taemin could do was avoid the flying things towards his direction.
"Stop it! You're crazy! Your daughter might hear you!" Taemin groaned, looking around in case you were here. He wasn't a savage. He knew you were too young to understand what was happening.
Taemin was trying to protect you.
But your mother couldn't care less. She voiced it out.
"I don't care! Maybe she should finally know the truth!" She squirmed against Jong-in's hold. She wanted to attack Taemin. She would never understand why Jong-in's stopping her from getting back at the asshole who hurt her deeply.
Fuck their friendship.
"She should know that you're a piece of shit!" Your mother started screaming your name.
You were inside the house with Jungkook. The latter's father told you to get inside and never come out unless he told you so.
"Maybe we should just stay here..." Jungkook cooed, holding your hand gently so he could stop you from going to the garden.
You could hear your mother's scream. She was desperately calling your name.
Fear surged through you, aware that you couldn't just ignore her. What if she was hurting? You didn't know what your father might do to her. You had heard them argue before even though you were locked up in your room. Their fight was always messy. Taemin would tell you to just cover your ears and sing.
What if he told you to do this so that he could cover whatever pain he was causing to your mother?
"No. I need to see. My mother needs me, Kook." Nine year-old you said, rushing towards the garden.
Jungkook followed you.
Your mother stopped shouting your name, but she hadn't calmed down at all. She was still struggling to get away from Jong-in's hold.
"Stay here please." Jungkook begged, holding your hand once again. The two of you were hiding in the bushes.
You did stay, too stunned to move. You weren't sure how to react. Why was Uncle Jong-in holding your mother like that? Most importantly, why did she look like a zombie? You could barely recognize your own mother. Her face was so pale, but her eyes were so red.
"Let's stop pretending like we're a happy family!" Tears cascaded down your mother's cheeks, trying to reach for a plate so she could throw it at Taemin.
She didn't have enough energy to do it. Admittedly, she wasn't aggressive anymore. In fact she looked exhausted. Too broken to function. "Because we're not your real family. I'm just your mistress and you don't treat our daughter right. She doesn't matter to you. Just go back to your real family—"
You didn't get to hear the rest of your mother's words because Jungkook was covering your ears and blocking your sight. He stood in front of you, smiling gently like his grin could fucking break you.
"Let's go..." You watched his lips dance.
You didn't argue, letting him drag you out of that suffocating place. You were numb, not dumb. You were nine but you knew what a mistress meant.
You understood now.
You understood why your father wasn't always available. You were only an option, someone he could pick up and drop whenever he wanted to.
Wait. Were you even an option? Perhaps you were not. Perhaps you were just a mistake, someone who ruined his perfect life.
"Tiger," Jungkook blurted out, halting your train of thoughts.
You blinked. He brought you to the garage.
You still didn't move. You just watched Jungkook do all things for you despite the fact that he was shaking.
He was scared. Not for himself, but for you. The screaming frightened him. The look in your mother's face made him tremble. He never saw and heard something so violent his whole life.
He couldn't even remember the last time his father got mad at him. Jong-in was the kind of father who never raised his voice.
He was always so calm.
Jungkook wondered if your mother ever hurt you. How many times did she hit you? Screamed at you? Throw things at you?
Has it always been like this for you? Was your mother always so violent? Was she only going to stop screaming and breaking things when she didn't have energy?
No! Jungkook shook his head, refusing to entertain his negative thoughts any longer. He was shuddering just by the thought of you getting hurt.
"I'm gonna to keep you safe, okay?" Jungkook was striving to stay calm. He planned to get you away from your abusive and lying parents.
Jungkook spotted your bike. He pulled you closer to it, helping you put on the bicycle helmet and then fastening its strap.
"Come," He urged you to sit on the crossbar even if there was a carrier in your bike. Jungkook wanted you to sit on his front, where he could see you, where he could cage you in his arms.
He was so scared to let you sit behind him. What if your mother took you away?
You quietly sat on the crossbar. You felt uncomfortable. Not with Jungkook, but with your current position. Sitting on the crossbar hurt your butt.
You didn't feel safe too. Jungkook's cycling with wobbly legs. You just knew you would be crashing soon.
"Kook!" You suddenly screamed, closing your eyes tightly.
Jungkook lost control. The bicycle crashed into your mother's car, causing the both of you to fall.
The car alarm was going off. You panicked. Your best friend panicked.
He felt stupid. How could he escape with you now? Your parents and his father heard the noise. They were heading towards the garage now.
"Jungkookie?" Jong-in called, unsure. He was wondering why his son was trying to hide you.
"Stay back!" Jungkook's breathing was ragged. His butt hurt, his arm hurt, seeing you hurt hurt him too. Everything hurt.
Jungkook felt like crying. You were plopped down on the ground. He wanted to help you, to make sure you were okay. Unfortunately he couldn't. He had to deal with the adults first. He had to make sure that they couldn’t hurt you.
"We're leaving! Let us go! You're gonna hurt her!" Jungkook didn't sound sweet anymore. He practically barked at your parents. "We heard you talking! You will hurt her! I know it!"
Your mother was about to say something. She was probably gonna scream at Jungkook, but your father stopped her, burying her face to his chest. After that Taemin looked at Jong-in, nodding as if he was silently asking him for a favor.
Jong-in nodded back and then he caught Jungkook off guard.
"Dad!" Jungkook's comically wide eye made his father smile. Jong-in ignored his son and just carried you in his arms.
"What are you gonna do to her!?" Jungkook’s hands balled into a fist. He was thinking of a way to save you from his father.
"You said she's not safe here so I'm taking her away from here. Wanna go with us?" Jong-in extended his left arm for Jungkook to hold.
The nine year-old boy hesitated, but after a few seconds, he decided to grab Jong-in's hand. He couldn't trust your parents, but maybe he could trust his father. Jong-in never lied to him.
Jungkook's father was true to his words, his son didn't regret trusting him.
Jong-in brought you to his house.
He had your father's permission. Taemin knew you were shocked and confused right now. You probably didn’t want to see your parents. You had to be surrounded by the people you trust. As of this moment, you would only warm up at Jungkook and Jong-in.
"Jungkookie, stop glaring at me..." Jong-in chuckled. He was amused by how protective his son got when it came to you. "Just go get some ice packs and a first aid kid. Your friend is hurt, can't you see?"
Jungkook winced as his father touched your bruised arm. You got hurt when you fell from the bicycle. Jungkook was aware that it was his fault.
"How can I make sure you're not gonna take her back to their house?" Jungkook crossed his arms, raising his brow and pouting his lips.
"Well out of everyone she knows, I am the only one who hasn't hurt her."
Jong-in knew it was insensitive to say this, especially because it was obvious that Jungkook was already feeling guilty for being the reason why you had bruises on your arms and legs.
"Fine." But in the end, Jong-in's statement was what convinced Jungkook to finally leave you alone for a short while.
It was what Jong-in wanted. He wanted to talk to you alone, to explain to you what just happened.
And he did. He made you understand your place without trying to offend you.
"I can't believe it's been seventeen years," Jungkook said, snapping back to reality. He trailed his fingers on your arm as if he could still see the bruises you got when you fell from the bike.
"You know what they say, time flies fast when you're happy..."
"Are you happy, Tiger?" Jungkook brought your arm closer to his lips, kissing it.
"Very.” You replied.
For a moment you enjoyed the silence, but Jungkook never really liked quiet so he started humming.
You immediately recognized the song. It was at my worst by Pink Sweats.
It made you smile. The sound coming out of his mouth soothed you.
He always knew how to make you feel better. For years, Jungkook did nothing but protect you.
You should start being more grateful.
"Thank you, Kook..." You said all of a sudden, a smile gracing your lips.
He stopped humming.
"Hmm?"
"For protecting me," you kissed his cheek. "Always, especially seventeen years ago."
You ran your fingers through his hair. He never changed his style: short and black.
"I never thought I'd see that side of yours. You looked like you're about to eat my parents alive," you giggled. "You're a bad boy."
It was a joke. You simply wanted to tease him.
You guessed he teased you back and also responded to your thank you by singing a certain part of Pink Sweat's song.
"For you, girl, I swear I'd do the worst..."He laughed while singing the lyrics.
You shook your head.
"No, Kook." You smiled sincerely . "You always do what's best for me..."
Did he really?
What if you were wrong? What if you thought he was doing his best, but then it was only bringing the worst in you?
Yeah. That's right.
Jungkook brought the worst out of you because when Monday came, he promised that he would tell Soojin that he didn't like her in a romantic way.
It didn't happen. Jungkook didn't talk to Soojin, at least this was what you thought.
Because if he did, then why was the ugly, green monster back? Why was it consuming you as you watched the biggest news for today:
After years of building things, two great architects of today finally decided to build a life together: Head Architect Jeon Jungkook asked Corporate Heir Kim Soojin to marry him.
A/N: I know, I know I’m not letting you guys breathe. I’m sorry I have to end this chapter like this hehe <//3
#ficswithluv#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook best friends to lovers#best friend jungkook#jungkook x yn#jungkook x female reader#jungkook x oc#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x you#jungkook fanfic#armywriterssupport
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"I know."
A/n: This was entirely written for my own self-indulgement. At 2:00 a.m.
Warnings: Suicide, angst, self-neglect, hallucinations, drug and general substance abuse, depression, death of a loved one and refusing to cope, abusive relationships.
Yuji x gn!reader.
•••
"Love is bittersweet when who you want doesn't, or rather, no longer exists.
"It's ironic, how you refuse to interact with those around you, how you hide away, staring at a screen for hours at a time, ignoring the people you actually know and giving up everything for those you don't. And then wish to be a part of a different world, where things could be a million times worse.
"You wish you could give it all up, just for that person, yeah?"
"I gu-"
"Don't answer that."
Therapy was supposed to work. Supposed to help him get at least a little better.
But this was suffocation at its finest.
Crisp clothes that smelled like those fabric softeners you used to love so much, hair washed with your favorite shampoo, nails painted your favorite color-
"Are you trying to make them live through you, Yuji?"
His eyes snapped up, the strong smell of cleaner and the doctor's gaze strictly boring into his own tired eyes.
"Are you trying to make them live through you, Yuji?" They repeated.
"I'm...I'm not sure what you're talking about."
"Are you sure? Mx L/n isn't here dea-"
"Please don't address me like that. Only Y/n can call me stuff other then my name."
If only thunder boomed. But it was a perfect day outside.
"Yuji, Y/n isn't here, remember? They're dead."
"Are you stupid? What kind of doctor tells lies? They're just late to this appointment. Y/n is always late, but they always come, you idiot."
"Yuji, do you know what kind of doctor I am?"
•••
"You should really stop taking all those pills. It's bad for your kidneys."
"I know."
"So why do you take them?"
"They calm me down."
"You should go see a doctor, Y/n."
"No thanks, Yuji. I know what I'm doing. "
•••
"You're...a therapist?"
"Yes, but do you know what kind?"
"You were Y/n's?"
"Yes, Yuji. And now I'm yours. But do you know what my job is?"
The room became quiet, only the soft ticks from the seconds-hand on the clock could be heard. It continued on for some time before the doctor set aside their notepad, observing Yuji.
Everything he wore was Y/n's. The way he did his hair was like Y/n's. The way he sat was how Y/n sat.
"Yuji, where is Y/n?"
"They're right here?"
"No Yuji. Where is Y/n?"
"They're here. Why do you keep asking the same questions? It's confusing. Stop it."
•••
Their lips tastes like the cheap alcohol in the cabinets and like cigarettes from the gas station.
But still, they were their lips.
And Yujj loved them.
Y/n smiled, taking another sip from the bottle before kissing Yuji again.
"This is home?"
"Yep! This is home."
"And...it's ours?"
"You betcha baby! All ours. We can do whatever the hell we want now."
"Oh...well we better take care of it then."
"Whatever."
•••
Leaning forward, the doctor grabbed some cards from the coffee table.
"Would you like to play a game with me, Yuji?"
"What kind?"
"Speed. Do you know it?"
"No?"
"It's easy. A deck of 52, since we take out the jokers. You know the order of the cards, yes?"
"Yes."
"Great. Now, I'll give you three stacks of 5 randomly shuffled cards, and give myself the same. We'll have two stacks of 10 right here, and flip one from each of those 10 onto the table. Your job, is to beat me. When a card is down, you can only place another card on top if its one above OR below. If neither of us can, we grab another two. Only 5 cards can be in your hand at a time. Kapeesh?"
"Yeah."
Swiftly shuffling the cards, the doctor laid them out, and the game started.
•••
"Y/n, that's not how you play."
"Then tell me how, Yuji. Since YOU know everything."
"I didn't say that Y/n. Can you please stop?"
" 'Can you please stop?' You know how much of a baby you sound like? Learn to just deal with everything. Fucking ruining the mood babe."
"Okay Y/n."
"Thank you baby. I appreciate it."
"I know."
•••
Yuji grabbed a stack, quickly placing a jack on a queen, and a 10 on the jack.
"Good job, Yuji. Thanks Y/n."
The doctor stopped playing, watching Yuji talk to himself as he laughed before placing more cards down, eventually winning.
"Did you see that?"
"I did, you did great."
"Thanks, doc."
"Yuji?"
"Hm?"
He looked up, startled to see the doctor crying.
"What's wrong?"
"How long will you continue to lie to yourself, honey? Y/n passed away a year ago. You're starting to forget things, and it's scaring me-"
"I know."
"Yuji, they left you. They won't come back. Look in the mirror. Do you see Y/n? No, cause they're gone. It's heartbreaking to see you come here every week and play this charade with yourself. You need to move on."
"I know."
"You keep saying that, but continue on. If you know, then do something!"
The doctor's please fell on deaf ears as Yuji snapped up, kicking the chair over, angry.
"I said I know. WHY does everyone feel the need to tell me to move on? Just go away! I know Y/n was horrible, but you guys didn't know them. You didn't know they just wanted someone to talk to. No, all you know is that you put them on those drugs, that you know you showed them how to forget. So no. I won't stop. Y/n isn't gone. You can write me down as crazy; I don't care. I don't care anymore. "
"Yuji sit down. Right now."
"No."
"Yuji-"
"Go ahead and call security. Put me on the same shit you out Y/n on. It sure did help. Fuck you."
"SIT DOWN. THEY'RE GONE CAUSE THEY DIDN'T LOVE YOU. THEY'RE GONE BECAUSE YOU PUSHED THEM TO THE EDGE YUJI. NOT BECAUSE OF THE MEDICATION. NOT BECAUSE OF US.
"You told them to stop. You didn't want to be with someone who required so much maintenance, so you made them stop. What, antidepressants are worse then drinking away your problems? They're gone cause you told them to go.
"Now sit down and talk with me. Let's sort this out."
"...I know."
#meena#yuji x gn reader#gn reader#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#yuji itadori#itadori yuji#yuji x reader#yuji x you#angst
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Chapter 238
Alex
I stop walking suddenly when a car rolls pass me creeping. They were looking hard as fuck. I shouldn't have walked so far away from the house in this white ass private neighborhood. They might call the cops on me.
"Alex?"
I turn around. April was like two normal houses down from me. With these big houses she was half of a house away. I walk towards her hugging myself. What lady? Like. I don't even know right now. I just don't feel like talking my business to another stranger.
"You didn't have to come after me." I say.
"I can tell that you and Cammie are related. Maybe even raised by the same grandma."
I roll my eyes. "Yeah maybe."
She chuckles. "Yeah. So you all defensive cause you don't want to talk about it. No problem. I just didn't feel like you really wanted to be alone."
"I don't but I am."
"You can't go through life like you the only one with your current problem. I don't even know what it is but it's not worth all of this dramatic shit."
I chuckle. "You so blunt."
"Baby, I'm real."
"If you say so." I sigh. "Everybody always so wrapped up in themselves and so quick to judge. Bitches act like they innocent and all fucking their first. They don't fucking get it."
"Hmm?" April says. "Don't we all point the finger at everybody else?"
I sigh. "I'm being so weak."
"For having feelings?"
"For letting people get to me." I say remembering what Jamaal said. "Okay, April, you tell me what to do. Since you all in my business. I fucked one too many people in the last... well."
April makes a face. "Well?"
"Maybe I didn't have sex with nobody recently. But..." I exhale. "I wanted to be... I'm all screwed up."
"Chil..." April says shaking her head. "You pregnant? Cause if not you need to get some help. What are you talking about?"
I drop my shoulders. "I just got to face it."
"You minus well, Baby." April says rubbing my back. "You don't know who the father is?"
"I know."
April makes me start walking. "You don't want him to be the father?"
"I don't want a baby." I say wanting to cry.
"Whatever. If you didn't want it you would get rid of it. If you not getting rid of it you want it. Somewhere you want this baby. Some bone in your body is happy. Is it not the person you want it to be? Is it not... what his name? Jamaal?"
I sigh. "It's Jamaal. He has been blocking every attempt by any man that tries to talk to me lately. I just don't know."
"You are a lot like Cammie." April chuckles.
"Our father's were twins." I sigh.
"You and Cammie's fathers were twins? I never knew that."
I blow. "We were close growing up then her father died and she changed. Thought I was always trying to act like I was better than her. I lost my father for a long time when she lost her father. He started drinking and shit. It wasn't a fucking walk in the park. I don't want to be a parent on drugs or alcohol like my parents. I'm scared to be a parent. Both of my parents failed."
April cuts her eyes at me. "Failed? Are you not a successful black educated woman? You have a hella lot more than I did at your age. Didn't fucking stop me from being a mother. Hell my son takes care of me. I'm not a fucking failure so you sure won't be. You in a position where you can be there for your child way more than I ever was. I wouldn't change nothing about my boys. Their fathers or nothing. Cause they are more than I could ask for."
"So... I am the shit." I sigh.
"Alex?" She starts laughing shaking her head. "If that helps you calm your ass down. Tell yourself that."
I cross my arms. "Shit."
"Oh look here comes Jamaal. How convenient?"
"Shut up." I say spinning around.
Jamaal was seriously jogging towards us. He stops completely staring at us. He crosses the street. I really don't feel like having this conversation. He takes his headphones out of his ears looking at us strange.
"What's wrong?" He asks coming straight to me.
"What are you talking about? Why does something have to be wrong with me?"
He looks at April. "I don't know much about April but I know you not this far away from the house helping her with her problems. And you would never go for a walk."
April chuckles and walks away. "Done went and found a... there's nothing wrong with me. What are you doing?"
"Me?" Jamaal asks. "Going to meet a friend I know that lives around here."
"Why you lying? Are you good, Alex?" April asks turning like she was going to walk away.
You encouraging me to have this talk with him? Damn April don't be so damn forward with your demands. I exhale and nod my head slowly. She gives me a face as if she was saying go ahead and talk. I never really talked to Cammie about April but something about her reminds me of my grandma. My grandma would say you laid your ass down there and took that dick then you carry that baby then lay your ass down and have that baby. I hate life. I don't want this.
"Dick wore off? You were okay a while ago." Jamaal says rubbing on my waist.
"Was I, Jamaal? Or did we fuck and ignore whatever was wrong with me?"
He frowns thinking hard. "That's what you wanted."
"It was?" I snap pushing his hands off me.
"Tell me what it is then?"
"I'm pregnant."
He laughs. "You so damn coldhearted. What's wrong with you?"
I shrug. "If that ain't it then I don't fucking know. You tell me since you know so well."
"I mean you have been a bitch from birth." He stares at me. "How pregnant are you?"
"Didn't look."
He chuckles nervously. "Let me look. Whatever you talking bout."
I give him my phone after taking the case off. He takes it like he scared. His confidence is just disappearing with every movement of his body. He looks in the case at the folded up ultrasound picture. I didn't want to look at it so I didn't. All this drama with me and Jamaal has put me in a place where I wasn't fucking with anyone. I've been more focused on me and clearly my head of him. Not telling his ass that.
"I thought... Shit." He says staring at the ultrasound. "Damn."
"You not going to ask if it's yours?"
He smirks. "Who else you fucked? 10 weeks? What's that? 2 months. That's all me, Sunshine."
"Great now you can get my inheritance for sure."
"Inheritance?" He chuckles. "I get you forever."
"Me?" I snap.
He so damn arrogant. "Fuck your money. I'm bout to be the baby daddy. Only motherfucker higher is a husband. And you ain't gonna be happy long enough to marry a bitch."
"You think this shit funny." I snap walking away.
"Bae." He says grabbing me. "I'm making a joke because I know how fucked up it is for me to be excited and you feel like shit. But it's a baby. I know about your mama's past. I know the last thing you would do is get rid of it. It's a baby."
I suck my teeth. I wasn't even thinking about my mother. He grabs my waist, which he loves to do. This man loves to touch me regardless of what he touching. I cross my arms staring at him. Say something good or get told off.
"We can have an expensive announcement party that tops that damn Disney party. Maybe an announcement dinner on your yacht."
I chuckle. "My yacht?"
"That your daddy bought? Yeah?"
I walk away without saying anything. Don't know why I was expecting anything different from Mr. Family Man. Never thought about how he would feel about the baby. Hell I was so scared they would say 3 months or more and have me looking stupid trying to figure out who I fucked. Life man.
Amber
"Cammie so stupid sometimes." I snap slamming the phone down on the floor then sitting down on the soft rug.
Chris says something but I don't know what it was. "Amber?"
"What?"
"You find out you pregnant today and you start going off?"
I suck my teeth. "This has nothing to do with being pregnant."
He blows. "Anything I can do?"
"No." I spat.
"Okay. I'll be here if there is."
Trey walks into the room. "We going to head to the house."
Chris stands up. "Well damn."
Trey shrugs. "I don't know. We will probably leave in the morning. It's too late to travel with the boys. Thanks for trying to... I mean thanks for being there, Chris."
"Whatever, man. I don't see how it helped anybody."
"It did." Trey nods walking towards the door. "Shit just heavy. It takes more than a few minutes in paradise to see things change."
"Yeah. Okay." Chris sighs.
Trey closes the door to the room behind him. That stupid short conversation between them pissed me off. My problems aren't irrelevant and they shouldn't have to be put aside all the time for other people's bullshit. Yes I have things I got to deal with and to me they are fucking important. I understand their shit is important.
"Wanna talk about it?" Chris says from across the room. "Amber?"
"I don't."
"Cause it's about me?" He says sadly. "I feel like it's about me. I mean I know it's about me."
I glance in the direction I thought he was. "Why would it be about you?"
"I know it is." He blows.
"It's about the situation. Cammie thinks her problems are supposed to be everyone else's but when it comes to other people she just wants to judge."
He was now standing near me. "Who, Cammie?"
"Yes."
"Bae, maybe you just mad at something else. Cammie would rather not have anyone in her business." He kneels down. "You not really excited about being pregnant are you? Mad cause I am and you don't know how to be real with me."
I suck my teeth. "Sounds rehearsed."
He rubs my leg. "Joyce said it."
"Your mama said that?"
He shrugs. "She asked how you felt. I said fine. She said no then lectured me on being selfish. I didn't purposely get you pregnant. Last thing I heard the doctor said you not ready."
I sigh. He is being so positive. I shouldn't be being so negative. He is right. It is about him. I don't really want to tell him that or deal with his response. I don't know if I want to deal with anything right now. I don't feel like being bothered. And what does Joyce even have to do with this? Why does it take her to give him a view of me?
"That's why you care?"
"No." He snaps. "What you on? I'm not trying to argue with you?"
"Then leave me alone."
He stands up shrugging his shoulders. "Aight then."
I roll my eyes. "Yeah."
"I want this baby and I don't think it's fair for you not to want it. Like I'm never gonna be okay with you getting rid of it. And if that is what you thinking then ain't no need acting like we can make it."
"What?" I snap.
He was back across the room. "I'm just saying that's not an option."
"It wasn't a fucking question!" I yell.
"Damn, don't wake my baby." Chris whispers.
I look at him. That's what he was doing across the room? Royalty is in here.
"I never fucking said nothing even remotely close to getting rid of my baby. Fuck you for thinking that."
"It ain't about what you saying. It's what you not saying. It's you only talking long term with this relationship after finding out you pregnant. It's you having to have private conversations about the shit we should be able to talk about. What a great friendship this has become."
I just roll my eyes cause ain't shit to say to that. Plus I don't feel like fucking arguing. With Cammie then with him. Why couldn't he just leave the shit alone and talk shit about Cammie with me. Fuck what any of the conversations were even about. I don't feel like dealing with his shit and I don't feel like Cammie.
"Just so you know what's really going on. Cammie and her mother had a talk about her… what happened in college. So her shit pretty difficult right now. She just ready to go home and act like nothing happened. So yeah."
I turn around looking at Trey. He walks back out of the room when nobody comments for a few seconds. Chris stands up from the bed once again. He just walks out of the bedroom door. I sigh.
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