#regular home loan | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bluewxrld07 · 17 days

Text

love ain't so pretty (Luke Hughes)

Warning(s): angst, gold-digger accusations, self-doubt, insecurity

Summary: Y/n is a hard worker. She may not come from a family of wealth, but she doesn't let that define her. Until Luke says something inn which that something is said in a way he can never take back.

She was so overstimulated. She was tired, she was sweaty, she had stains on her shirt from a spilt coffee mishap.

Yet she still had that smile on her face as she greeted and bid farewell to regulars and other newer customers. Y/n wiped the sweat dripping from her forehead away as she finished wiping down one of her last tables for the night, pocketing the leftover generous tip she was left.

As she brought the dishes to the back and hung up her apron, she saw one of her closest coworkers, Grayson, making his way towards her.

"We're going out tonight if you want to join? Just to Don's down the street." he tells her as she helps the chefs with putting dishes in the sink.

She purses her lips. "Not tonight-" her coworker groans. "I promised Luke I'd come home tonight and watch the rest of the Frozen four game. UMich plays tonight, so he invited some of the guys over and wants us all there to watch it."

Grayson puts his hands on his hips and looks her up and down. "Girl, you are absolutely smitten by this man."

Y/n rolls her eyes, feeling her skin heat up. "He gets me what can I say. He's the first guy who likes me as a person. Not as just something with tits and ass." She jokes, earning a playful shove from him.

They laugh. "Hey those guys back then were fine as fuck and you know it." He shoots, earning a defeated sigh from her as she grabs her belongings.

"Yeah yeah, that was back then. I'm happier now," she chuckles, giving Grayson a hug. "Tell your man of the night hi for me though." she jokes, earning a snort.

"Oh you'll bet hearing about it tomorrow don't you worry." Graysons calls out to her as she walks off.

As she drove home that night, she felt more of the fatigue slipping in from her twelve hour shift, her feet beginning to slowly throb from being on them nonstop.

She knew she would regret taking another twelve hour shift for the fifth day in a row, but in all fairness she knew her paycheck was going to look super nice. Not that she minded working anyway.

Y/n has never had things come easy to her. She came from a family of the lower class, and she had done what she could to support them while also getting her education.

When it came to college, she knew that she wanted nothing more than to graduate with her Bachelor's degree in health science. That all came to an end when her mom died, and her father was struggling to pay bills. So she put her dreams and scholarship acceptance letters aside, putting her family first and working her ass off.

Now she was working as one of the partial owners of a very beautiful restaurant, making a decent amount of change and ignoring what everyone had said about her decisions of not going to college. Sure she still wishes she could have experienced the college life, but she knew that this life was better than spending the rest of her life paying off student loan debt.

She worked hard to get where she got to, and working where she does is what caused her to meet her now boyfriend of almost three years, and she would be damned if she would let Luke be the only one making the money in their relationship.

He has always made comments about how he could be their income, but it always needed with her saying she wanted to make her own money. As well as knowing she would get bored not doing something with her life, and she couldn't face the thoughts of him thinking she would become too reliant on his money.

She snapped herself out of the darker side of those thoughts, knowing she does work hard.

Y/n lets out a sigh of exhaustion as she made her way up the stairs towards her and Luke's shared apartment, the sounds of the guys voices being heard as she got closer to their place.

The girl opened the door quickly to not disturb their conversation being had in the other room, shutting it quietly as she took off her shoes.

She set her keys and purse on the rack, making her way down the hall and pulling her hair into a knot on the top of her head.

The guys chuckles and conversations dying down a bit as she cam into view, everyone giving her warm welcomes and 'hello's. She exchanged a few hugs and greetings to the Devils players in her household, soon making her way behind the couch to hug her boy from behind.

Luke lets out a chuckle as he felt Y/n bury her face in his neck and place a kiss there, his fingers caressing her wrists that were around his neck.

"How was work, baby?" he asks softly, she hums.

"Busy. Long. Grayson asked if I wanted to come out with him and the rest of the crew, but I just could not. I'm so tired."

"How many hours did you work today?"

"Close to thirteen. I covered for Miriam because her son was sick." she sighs, laying her chin on his shoulder.

Luke places a few chaste kisses on her cheek and temple. "You definitely deserve a drink or two though."

"Yeah, but I wanted to come watch the game with you and the boys. I also don't get paid till tomorrow, so I'd rather just keep the money spending to a tighter budget." she explains, earning a grin from Luke.

"I could've sent you money, love. You never go out really," he assures her, but she shakes her head and stands straight. She squeezes his shoulders.

"Not the point, baby. I don't need you spending your money on me. I make my own money, I don't want to rely on you, you know how I get with you spending money on me." she says, placing a kiss on his head.

Luke just sighs, and looks up at her. "Why don't you go shower, and I will grab you a drink and something to eat for when you get back out here?" he suggests, she grins down at him and nods.

Y/n walks off to their shared bedroom and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her to strip down.

The warm water instantly helps sooth her muscles and pains, earning some decompressing sighs of relief from her as she washes herself clean.

Once she is done, she steps out and heads towards the mirror to do her nightly routine. She shrugs on some cropped sweats and Luke's sweatshirt that was hanging up, brushing her hair after.

As she opens the door that goes back to their shared room, she sets her towel on her desk chair and goes to place her phone on the charger.

She pauses when she hears something from one of the guys, in which it makes her frown.

"Why didn't she go out tonight?"

She hears Luke sigh. "I don't know. She said something about not getting paid till tomorrow and being tight on her budget."

One of the guys snort. "What does she do?"

"She's a partial owner and full-time manager for that nice restaurant down the street overlooking the bridge."

It's quiet for a few seconds. "That's it? Nothing special?"

"Really? I thought she did something else," one guy chuckles.

"Nope, she's just over there." Luke answers quietly.

"No wonder she is tight on money. I thought she went to college and got a real job or something."

"I didn't know you'd stoop down to lower-class type girls Lukey," a guy jokes, making Y/n's insides churn.

"I don't that's the thing," Luke laughs, Y/n instantly getting closer to the doorway to hear what else he has to say. "She could definitely use the money I make here and there. She doesn't make shit compared to what I get."

Y/n's blood runs cold.

She knows she is not professional sports player, but she does make a decent amount, so hearing Luke say that makes her heart ache. The man that was supposed to stick up for her and love her regardless was saying things like this when she wasn't in the room. Who knew what else he was saying when he wasn't around her.

"Wouldn't you be worried about her becoming a gold digger though, man?"

Luke scoffs. "I mean yeah of course, but she's got this thing where she needs to prove to whoever that she can make money. So she will never accept a dime from me. She barely pays for our rent here, she pays a good forty percent. But without me around who knows if she'd have a roof over her head."

Y/n didn't even realize she was crying until she felt the drops hitting her toes, the girl instantly wiping at her eyes.

She couldn't listen to any more of their conversation, instantly heading towards their closet and grabbing whatever she could fit into the duffel.

If he was going to say this about her, making her sound like she could be so broke and so homeless if he wasn't around. She didn't want a man like that in her life.

Y/n grabbed her phone and charger, slipping on a pair of socks and her jacket before walking out of their bedroom.

She stormed down out past the group sitting in the living room, noticing Luke in the kitchen in her side view. She beelined towards the hallway that led to their front door, putting on her shoes as she heard Luke say her name.

"Where you going? I just finished making you your favorite!" he says in an excited tone. Luke's smile falters as he sees her puffy and red splotched face.

"Baby? What's going on?" he asked, as he began to walk towards her.

She just shook her head, grabbing her purse and keys. "I can't do this." she scoffs with a sniffle.

"Do what? Hey, hey, hey," he says, grabbing her waist to turn her back towards him as she begins to open the front door. His face falls completely at the sight of her broken one.

"I won't be some fucking charity case for you," she snaps. Luke's face frowning. "What?" he asks.

"I make more than enough money to be financially stable on my own fucking feet. I don't need you feeding some fucking lies to your so called friends that I can't pay shit. You chose the rent split percentage. You chose how much you wanted me to pay because you wanted to spend more on me."

Luke's face was white. "Y/n I-"

"No. I'm done Luke. Go fuck some high-class bitch that can afford everything you can and more. We're over."

Before Luke could get another word out, the door slammed in his face.

Luke backed away from the door silently, his figure coming into view to the boys who heard the door slam.

"Luke you good?"

He ran his hands through his hair, his eyes still locked on the door in hopes she would come back. Tears threatening to spill in his eyes.

"Luke?"

He turned away and towards the kitchen, swiping the glass on the counter away and letting it shatter on the fridge.

"I fucked up. Big time."

#hockey boys #angst #luke hughes #y/n #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine

532 notes · View notes

gift-and-tips · 2 years

Text

GOVERNMENT HOME LOAN FOR REGULAR PURCHASE 2022

#HOSUNGLOAN2022 #2022HOUSINGLOAN #HOUSING2022LOAN #GOVTHOUSELOAN

GOVERNMENT HOME LOAN FOR REGULAR PURCHASE 2022 | HOME LOAN FROM GOVERNMENT 2022, TYPES OF GOVERNMENT LOAN FOR NEW HOUSE, 2022 GOVERNMENT HOME LOAN FOR REGULAR PURCHASE, GOVERNMENT 2022 HOME LOAN FOR REGULAR PURCHASE, GOVERNMENT HOME LOAN FOR 2022 REGULAR PURCHASE, GIFTANDTIPS LOAN DETAILS, LOANINFO When you are looking to buy a home, the first thing you need to do is assess your needs. Do you…

View On WordPress

#2022 GOVERNMENT HOME LOAN FOR REGULAR PURCHASE #GIFTANDTIPS LOAN DETAILS #GOVERNMENT 2022 HOME LOAN FOR REGULAR PURCHASE #GOVERNMENT HOME LOAN FOR 2022 REGULAR PURCHASE #GOVERNMENT HOME LOAN FOR REGULAR PURCHASE 2022 | HOME LOAN FROM GOVERNMENT 2022 #LOANINFO #TYPES OF GOVERNMENT LOAN FOR NEW HOUSE

0 notes

hemantjimin · 2 years

Text

50 लाख का होम लोन 20 साल की बजाय 10 साल में ऐसे चुकाएं, बचेंगे 31 लाख रुपये ब्याज

New Delhi. The Reserve Bank has started the process of increasing interest rates after two years to control inflation. In early May, the central bank increased the repo rate by 40 basis points. Due to this all types of loans including home loans have become expensive. There have been full indications that RBI will increase interest rates further in the coming days. New age home loan customers…

View On WordPress

#bank #financing company #home loan #home loan borrowers #home loan interest rate #home loan lenders #home loan prepayment #lump sum prepayment #pre-payment #rate hikes #RBI #repo rate #reserve bank of india #small regular prepayments #systemic pre-payment

0 notes

adascore · 4 months

Text

NORTH LONDON BOUND

pairings: beth mead x arsenal!reader / vivianne miedema x arsenal!reader / jen beattie x arsenal!reader / kim little x arsenal!reader

warnings: none (?).

author’s note: oh to be meadema’s adopted child. anyway- enjoy this one xoxo

masterlist

•••••

''She can move in with me and Viv, if she’d like.'' Beth suggested upon hearing the youngster’s mother concern about how they hadn’t been able to find an appropriate apartment for the teenager.

Her mother glanced to where her daughter was chatting with Lauren and Esme, her former Manchester City teammates. ''Wouldn’t that be a problem for you two? Young couples usually like to have their own space.''

''No, not at all.'' Vivianne chimed in, shaking her head. ''And Y/N’s a sweetheart anyway, so we would love to have her stay with us if she wants to.'' Beth confirmed, throwing in a compliment for the younger girl.

Y/N had grown up at the Arsenal Academy, being recognized by a scout when she was 9 years-old. The potential and skills had always been there for everyone to see, and at just 15 years-old, she was allowed to start training with the first team. Her first two seasons with the older team had been helpful, but limited in actual game time. She got along great with her teammates, but her young age had always been seen as a liability by the coaches.

During the summer in 2021, she had been send on loan to Manchester City, where there were more players closer in age and where she would hopefully improve even more. The Arsenal management had made a correct guess, and playing with The Blues had greatly impacted her style of play. The Arsenal prodigy even making regular starting line-up appearances.

Upon seeing the success she was having with not only the Manchester team, but also the Lionesses, Arsenal invited her back to become one of their strikers. The decision had been made before the start of the European Championship at home, giving the youngster and her family enough time to make all the preparations to move her back into North London. However, it had been a challenge finding the right home for the recently turned 18 year-old. In her previous seasons at Arsenal, she still had been part of the Academy so Y/N was part of their housing-system. At Manchester, the club had organized a living space for her with Lucy and Keira, occupying their guest room for 9 months.

Nonetheless, all of that had been temporarily. Now, they would have to find something permanent for the next 3 seasons, and potentially more if she decided to extend her contract (which she obviously would do).

''Well that is very sweet of you two,'' Y/N’s mother smiled, momentarily patting Beth’s hand, ''I’ll talk to her about it later- I just think she wants to celebrate right now.'' She chuckled, knowing her daughter does not have anything but their fresh win at Wembley on her mind. Y/N's potential move into Beth and Viv's home became a topic for later discussion.

Beth and Vivianne exchanged grins, understanding completely. "Great," Beth replied, nodding. "Understandable, we'll wait then.''

''Darling, I need to talk to you about something.'' Y/N’s mother knocked on her daughter's bedroom door, then entered without waiting for a response. Y/N looked up from her phone, catching her mother's entry with a raised eyebrow. "What?" she asked.

''It’s about your Arsenal living situation.'' Her mother replied, making her way to the bed with a sly smirk.

''Ah, yeah? You found something or?''

The older woman sat down on the bed, creating a space for herself. "Kind of. You actually received a very generous offer a few days ago." Her hand landed on her daughter's thigh, offering a comforting pat.

The young striker frowned, confusion present on her face. ''An offer? What do you mean?'' She asked, shifting on her bed.

''Your teammates, Beth and Vivianne, offered for you to come live with them.'' Her mother revealed.

She processed her words for a bit, surprised by what she said. ''Beth and Viv? Like, Mead and Miedema? That I go and live with them?'' Y/N repeated her mother's words, making sure she heard her right and this was not some misunderstanding.

''Yeah! I got talking with Beth’s family, your transfer came to discussion and I explained how we hadn’t found the right home for you yet, and Beth offered their place.'' Her mother summarized, amused by her daughter’s wide eyes and surprised tone.

Y/N leaned back against her headboard, taking a deep breath. The idea of living with teammates, especially those as established as Beth and Viv, was intriguing. ''Wow, that’s… super nice of them.'' She sighed, her mother nodding. ''Yes, I know.''

''Why, though?''

Her mother chuckled, recognizing the significance of the offer. "Seems like they genuinely want to make it easier for you to settle in, sweetie.''

The question had more been an internal thought than directed at her mother. She had always gotten along with them, especially with Beth once she also joined the England senior team. In Y/N’s mind, there had always been an invisible wall between her and the older Arsenal players. They were always welcoming to her during training, offering guidance when needed, but she was aware they didn't want the responsibility of looking after a 15-year-old.

Her loan spell at Manchester City and subsequent debut with the Lionesses marked a turning point, maturing her both on and off the field. This time, she would not be coming in as an inexperienced youngster that only got on the pitch to replace someone else, but she would be an actual integral part of the team.

''I’ll let you think about it, but I think it can be good for you to stay with them, even if it is only temporary.'' Her mother gave her opinion. As much as she had witnessed the growth in her daughter, she would much prefer it if there were people looking after her every day.

''Yeah, should I talk to them or what did they say?'' Y/N inquired, eager to understand the next steps.

''They’re simply waiting on your decision, but talking with them can’t hurt.''

Beth and Vivianne sat in their cozy living room, the evening sunlight casting a warm glow through the windows. As they went through the papers for their upcoming vacation to Greece, the topic of Y/N potentially moving in with them came up.

'’So, about Y/N maybe coming to live with us… do you really think it's a good idea? I know I might have overwhelmed you when her mum was there, but seriously what do you think about it?'’ Beth asked, leaning back into the couch.

Vivianne processed the question, her gaze fixed on the swirling patterns of her tea. '’I do think it’s a good idea, but it’s quite a responsibility, no? I mean, I love the kid, but having her live with us is a big step.”

'’I know, you’re right. I do think it’s a good idea, though. I mean- she can stay in the guest room, cause it doesn’t get used anyway, and I think it would also be good for her to have people that can keep her grounded, you know? The attention on her since the Euro’s has been insane.” Beth argued.

The young Arsenal prodigy had been one of the break-out stars of the 2022 European Championships, receiving immense media attention.

Vivianne nodded in agreement. "We would be like... her parents- her work parents."

Beth chuckled, taking a sip of her tea. "Yeah, we can use her as practice for later." She winked, lightening the mood.

“I hope she agrees, though. I would understand if she would want to be on her own- most kids her age would, but it would be nice to have her around more," Beth admitted, a hint of vulnerability in her voice.

The Dutchwoman warily eyes her girlfriend, feeling there is more behind her want to have Y/N move in with them than she’s letting on.

Feeling her partner’s eyes and internal judgement, Beth caves in. “She’s mature, but she’s also just a kid, you know? There will be so much pressure on her and she'll need guidance and then… maybe we can take care of her? Kind of like a mum would.” She admits, blush on both of her cheeks.

Her girlfriend's eyes softened, and she reached for Beth's hand. '’You’re cute, Beth,'’ Vivianne grinned, '’but you just want the best for her, that’s normal. How long have we known her for? Since she was like 12, 13? We have basically seen her grow up.'’

Beth smiled, her soft spot for the young English striker evident in her eyes. '’Yeah, and there will just be a lot of eyes on her. I just want to make sure she has all the support she needs.'’

Vivianne nodded, understanding her partner's perspective. '’We've seen how she has grown, and now she's stepping into a bigger spotlight so to say. Maybe she isn’t feeling that pressure yet, but I’m sure it will catch up to her in one way or another.'’

Beth squeezed Vivianne's hand, grateful for her understanding. '’Exactly, we’ll just show her a bunch of extra love.'’ The Lioness star chuckled, relieved her partner was as much into the idea as she was.

'’It’s crazy how much she has grown, as a player and as a person.'’ Vivianne muttered, the image of a 13 year-old Y/N flying in her mind.

'’Like physically grown. The girl’s even almost taller than you!'’ Beth exclaimed, almost offended by the young striker’s growth spurt. '’Remember her first training session with us? She was the cutest little thing, following everyone around like a little puppy and just so eager to prove herself- ugh, just love her.'’

'’Yeah, she was soaking up all our football wisdom.'’ Vivianne sarcastically chuckled.

'’What wisdom? The wisdom of yellow cards by Katie McCabe?'’ Beth laughed, receiving a teasing shove from her girlfriend.

The Dutchie playfully rolled her eyes. '’I mean- that is also a very important skill,'’ she smirked, '’but to come to the point, she has grown a lot and if she would agree to it, I would love to have her here.'’ Vivianne concluded, picking up her and Beth’s intertwined hands and giving it a peck.

Beth grinned, reciprocating the playful mood. '’Alright, alright, fair point. Yellow card wisdom is crucial and Master McCabe will love to see her student return,'’ she snickered, '’and I agree, having her here would be amazing. We can be her home away from home.'’

The couple shared a warm smile, excited about the prospect of welcoming the young girl into their home.

“Maybe we can let her decorate the guest room? I mean- neither of use it for anything and it’ll give her her own personal space.” Beth suggested.

Viv nodded in agreement. “Yeah, that would be nice for her.”

“Does she still go to school, by the way?” Vivianne inquired.

Beth thought for a moment. “I am not too sure. The England staff had organized a graduation party for her during one of the camps so I know she’s finished with like her A-levels and stuff, but I don’t know if she’s continuing,'’ the English striker shook her head, confusing herself even more on Y/N’s current school situation, '’why?'’

“Just wondering if she would need the study then? Or we could even put a desk in her room?” Her partner explained.

Beth nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

“Maybe I should start learning how to cook as well.” Beth thought out loud, taking Viv by surprise.

“How’s that?” She asked with wide eyes.

“Just in case you’re not here, and she wants to eat something. Don’t want to give the kid food poisoning- Jonas will have my head then.” The Brit argued.

Her reasoning made Vivianne laugh, her hand clapping the table. “We can’t let the teacher’s pet mess up, huh?” She teased, receiving a light kick from Beth under the table.

“She hasn’t even agreed yet, and you’re already worrying over nothing.”

Beth grinned, playfully rolling her eyes. "Well, I like to be prepared. What if she agrees tomorrow, and we're caught off guard? It's better to plan ahead.”

“If you are really that worried, maybe you can talk to Lucy or Keira? She used to live with them so they’ll know what to tell you.” It hadn’t occurred to Beth to ask her English teammates for advice.

She nodded. “True… you know what? Maybe we’ll just wait on Y/N, she and her parents will most likely want to talk to us first anyway.” Beth concluded.

“Yeah, she’ll probably come here when pre-season starts so we have time to prepare in case she says yes.” Vivianne, ever so cool headed, calmed her girlfriend down.

''Good thing I’ve got you now. If it was just me, I’d probably would have renovated the entire house or something for her.'' Beth laughed, poking fun at her overthinking.

Vivianne smiled, leaning in to give Beth a quick kiss. "I'm here to keep you grounded, babe. No need to renovate the house just yet. Let's take it step by step.”

Beth chuckled, appreciating her calming presence. "Yeah, you're right. One step at a time. We'll hear Y/N when she's ready, and if she decides to move in, we'll make sure she feels at home.''

Beth’s phone started ringing, making the rest of the couch sigh as they were very into the movie. ''Sorry.'' She excused herself, walking over to the dinner table where she put it. She frowned as it was an unknown number, contemplating whether to answer or not. She opted to pick up. ''Hi, with Beth.''

''Meado? It’s Y/N.'' A shy voice greeted the striker on the other end of the line.

''Y/N, darling, hey, how are ya?'' Beth looked over at Vivianne, who sat next to Ben, Beth’s brother. The Dutchwoman’s head had shot up the moment the youngster’s name was mentioned.

Beth could hear a chuckle. ''I’m good, enjoying the small break. How about you?'' Y/N asked politely.

''That’s good to hear and same, we’re just relaxing.'' Beth bit her nails, hoping the young girl was calling for what she hoped she was calling.

''That’s nice. Uh, I was calling in regards to, uh, your offer or how should I call it?'' Y/N nervously laughed, cringing at her shaky voice.

''Yeah, you could call it that.''

''Uh, if it’s not a bother, me and my parents would like to discuss all the practicals of me maybe moving in with you guys. Is that okay or…?'' The young girl’s stressed voice touched Beth’s heart.

''That’s not a problem, darling. We would love to have a talk,'' she nodded at Viv, who gave her a thumbs up, ''when does it fit for you and your parents?''

''Is Saturday possible for you? I have to be at the club for a medical exam so I’m in town then with my mum and dad.'' Y/N suggested.

Beth smiled, relieved that Y/N had called for the reason she had hoped. "Saturday works for us. What time is convenient for you?''

'’Uh, I have to be at the center at like 10 so is 2 in the afternoon alright?'’ The teenager proposed.

"Perfect. I’ll send you the address, and then you’ll find us here.'’ Beth assured her.

"Alright. Thanks, Meado. We appreciate it.'' Y/N thanked her, sounding grateful.

"No problem at all. We're looking forward to it. See you on Saturday!" Beth ended the call, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. She turned to Viv and her brother, her partner sporting a supportive smile.

''She’s coming here on Saturday?'' Vivianne asked.

''Yeah, with her parents. She has to be at the club so it works out great that way.'' Beth recalled Y/N’s words.

"That's fantastic. It’s a good sign.'’ The younger one of the couple wearing a hopeful expression on her face.

Ben chimed in, "I'm sure she'll agree to it. If you need any help getting things ready, just let me know.'' Beth had informed her family on the potential new housemate or how Jen had called her, their new football child.

Beth smiled at her brother, grateful for his support. "Thanks. I might take you up on that.''

She indeed took him up on that. The day before Y/N and her family’s arrival, Beth and Vivianne, with the help of family members, had cleaned their entire home. The Dutchwoman wasn’t too worried about anything, but seeing Beth’s distress had been a challenge.

''Why am I so nervous? We’ve known her for so long and I’ve met her parents plenty of times.'' Beth shook herself, wondering why she was so worked up.

''You just want it to go well. It’s okay, lieverd.'' Vivianne tried comforting her, massaging her shoulders.

Beth leaned into her touch. ''Thanks, Viv. You’re the best.''

It felt like forever before Y/N and her family arrived, but eventually, the doorbell rang. The couple exchanged a quick glance before making their way to the hallway. As they opened the door, they were met with a smiley Y/N, decked in an Arsenal training kit, accompanied by her mother and father.

"Hi, everyone! Welcome back in North London! Nice to see ya, how are ya?'' Beth initiated a hug with the younger girl, happy to see her in her full Arsenal spirit again.

Y/N smiled into the hug, briefly caressing Beth's back. ''I'm good, and you?''

''Good as always. Come on in, the weather isn't the best.'' Beth urged the family in, greeting her parents, while Vivianne said her welcome to Y/N.

''Hey, Viv.'' Y/N said, as the Dutchwoman wrapped her arms around her.

''Thank you for having us. Your home looks lovely!'' Y/N's mother complimented their house, glancing around the corridor.

''That's very kind of you, and we're more than happy to have you here.'' Beth responded, motioning for them to follow her further into the house.

The family of three politely followed the couple, observing the place as if it were a museum. Beth tried to ignore their faces, not wanting to be able to read off of their expressions what they were thinking.

Vivianne noticed, and subtly stroked her back- letting her know she was right there with her.

''Do you guys want anything to drink? We have tea, coffee, water, soda,...?'' Vivianne offered, pointing at the kitchen.

Y/N's father declined, politely shaking his head, but thanking Viv. His wife sweetly asked for a tea of Viv's choice, and Y/N opted for the glass of water. Vivianne glanced at Beth who, similarly to Y/N's dad, shook her head- too nervous to consume anything.

While Vivianne disappeared into the kitchen, Beth gave a swift tour of the house; showing where everything was without too much unnecessary information. However, she did spend a bit longer lingering around the guest room and the small bathroom attached.

After the impromptu house tour, they all gathered in the living room. Vivianne returned with the drinks, handing a cup of tea to Y/N’s mother and a glass of water to Y/N.

The atmosphere was one mixed with curiosity, anticipation, and nervousness.

Y/N’s mother was the one to break the light tension. ''So, firstly, we wanted to thank you for your offer. It’s very generous and we really appreciate it.''

''No problem at all.'' Beth brushed it off, not the greatest at accepting compliments.

''We, as parents, find it important for her to be able to focus on her career, while also having a stable life outside of the pitch. Those both sides of her life are essential to one another; a good personal life will help in football, and vice versa.'' Her mother stated.

''And if she were to stay with you two, she’ll still have some sorts of independence away from home, while still having the support she needs.'' Her father chimed in.

Beth and Vivianne nodded attentively. ''Yeah, we completely understand that. She can also carpool with us to training, and she can travel with Beth during the international breaks.'' The younger one of the couple said.

''That would indeed come in handy, eh? Miss No Driver’s License?'' Her mother teased, resulting in a small push from the youngest.

''We just hope it’s not too much of a burden for you. You’re a young couple, we’re sure you would want your space.'' Her mother continued, voicing her concern over Beth and Vivianne’s personal space.

''It’s really not a problem at all. The guest room doesn’t get used anyway so it will finally have a good purpose, and we would love to have her around more.'' Beth smiled at the girl, relieved as Y/N reciprocated.

''I think it would work well. I mean- I’ve been at the club practically my whole life, and you also live closer to most of our teammates so I’ll see them more as well.'' Y/N voiced her opinion.

Beth and Vivianne exchanged pleased and relieved glances, excited to hear her positive response.

As soon as there was an agreement on the offer, they discussed the formalities of Y/N moving in. When she would be moving in, discussions about any allergies or diets, her school work (contrary to what Beth believed, the girl indeed would continue studying), how they would handle things money-wise- Y/N’s parents insisting the couple should be given some kind of financial compensation for the time their daughter stays with them, and all other stuff. Y/N's parents, seeming more at ease with each passing minute, voiced their appreciation for Beth and Vivianne's willingness to provide a supportive environment for their daughter.

The practical conversation was followed up by a more casual and laid-back talk, asking about their upcoming vacation to Greece, how Beth and Viv’s families were doing, what they thought about the upcoming Arsenal season, etc.

As the meeting drew to a close, both parties felt a sense of relaxation and assurance regarding Y/N's potential move. Y/N and her father had already headed outside when Y/N’s mother subtly halted Vivianne and Beth in their tracks. ''I know we’ve said it a lot, but we are very grateful that you’re doing this.''

''It’s really no problem. Y/N’s a lovely girl.'' Beth nodded.

''She really liked it at City, but she was always talking about how she missed playing in the red and white colors.'' Her loan to Manchester City had been a mixed experience for the young player.

Vivianne pouted at her words, while Beth sighed, understanding the sentiment. ''She’s back home now. Our Gunner.''

''Yeah,'' Y/N’s mother chuckled, ''we trust that you’ll take great care of our girl. She really looks up to you two, so this means a lot to her, and to us as well,'' she said with a soft smile.

The couple nodded. ''Absolutely. We’ll treat her like she’s our own child,'' Beth added, and they all shared a laugh.

''No, but seriously, we’ll make her feel at home,'' Vivianne assured her.

''Thank you, girls, and enjoy your vacation- you’ve deserved it,'' Y/N’s mother bid them goodbye, stepping outside to join her own family.

''Thank you, Miss Y/L. Have a safe trip home, okay?''

The family exchanged appreciative smiles. ''We will, thank you.'' She replied warmly before they made their way to their car and were back on their way home. The couple watched until they were out of sight, a strong hold on one another.

As the door closed, Beth let out a relieved laugh. ''Well that went well, don’t you think?'' She turned to her partner, the Dutch’s eyes reflecting a mix of joy and excitement.

Vivianne grinned. ''Yeah, and her parents really seemed to trust us. Y/N also seemed genuinely happy about the idea.'' The youngster’s stance on this had been the most important to them, wanting to get the feeling she genuinely wanted this.

The Brit nodded. ''I hope so, I just want her to be comfortable.''

Viv squeezed her. ''We’ll make her feel at home, liefie. Just like we promised. It’s a bit like parenting, but instead of a crying infant, we get a cool teenager.''

Beth laughed. ''Yeah, and one that plays great football as well. We’re lucky gals.''

''Absolutely, we hit the jackpot.''

On the agreed-upon date, the day before the official start of pre-season, Beth and Vivianne eagerly awaited Y/N’s arrival. Most of her stuff had been already dropped off in their home, so to make it easier for her and them to transition into the new living situation. As both of Y/N’s parents weren’t allowed to take time off of work- much thanks to the European Championship- Y/N would take the train and would be picked up by Jen and Kim, the Scottish pair offering to drive her from the station to the Meadema household.

''Alright, orphan child, let’s bring you to your new mummies.'' Jen had teased her once they got in the car.

As the doorbell rang, signaling the much-anticipated moment, Beth rushed to open the door, while Vivianne took her time to follow her girlfriend into the hall.

The trio stood there, Kim and Jen holding her stuff while Y/N immediately greeted Beth with a hug. ''Meado!''

''Hey, darling! Welcome home now, eh?'' The older one said excitedly, giving the young girl a kiss on her hair.

Vivianne greeted her two other teammates before turning to the strikers. ''Y/N! How you doing?'' Instead of waiting for Beth to be done hugging her, Viv pulled her arms around both women.

''Good, and you?''

''Yeah, I’m fine.'' The bright smile on the girl’s face was infectious, her teammates mirroring her expression.

Once both her new housemates let go of her, they all walked into the house. ''How was the train ride?'' Vivianne asked, taking Y/N’s coat and hanging neatly on a wired hanger.

''Uh, it was a bit delayed, but it wasn’t too busy, so it was okay.'' She answered, having a curious look around their house again as if something drastic would have changed in the two weeks that had passed since she first visited them.

Jen and Kim let out big sighs as they put her stuff down. ''We managed to safely deliver your package, Meado. Don’t we get some kind of reward for that?'' Jen quipped, Y/N giving her a light slap on the arm for referring to her as if she were an Amazon delivery of some sort.

''I agree! She’s in one piece and with a smile on her face.'' Kim added.

The group shared a laugh. ''How about we treat you to some dinner sometime this week?''

Jen raised an eyebrow at the proposal. ''Anywhere we want?'' Beth nodded. ''No budget limits?''

''Within reason, Jennifer. We’re not made of money.'' The Brit grinned.

'’You just became European Champion, I’m sure you got a nice cheque, Meado.'’ Jen continued teasing. ''Anyway- shouldn’t the young grasshopper pay since we’re all doing this for her?'' The Scot turned to Y/N.

The young girl’s eyes widened. ''Stealing money from a minor? Wow, Beattie.'' She joked, getting a laugh out of them.

''Minor? You just turned 18!'' The defender exclaimed.

Y/N teasingly rolled her eyes. ''Age is just a number. That’s what you taught me!''

''Alright, you don’t have to pay! But next time you wanna go out with us, I’m saying no, since you’re still a minor.'' She stuck out her tongue, taunting the young girl with her own words.

''Who says I even want to go out with you guys, you’re all super old.'' Y/N retorted, being met with a bunch of protests.

The banter continued, creating a lighthearted and joyful atmosphere in the Meadema household.

#meadema x reader #woso x reader #beth mead x reader #vivianne miedema x reader #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #awfc x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #engwnt

706 notes · View notes

its-time-to-write · 9 months

Note

jamie and reader used to date before he went back to his old team and broke reader’s heart 💔 now he’s back and wants reader back ANGST AND FLUFF PLEASEEE

I’ve been thinking about this request since FOREVER so I hope I did it justice!!

wonder what it’d be like

You don’t get paid enough for this shit.

“So you do know Jamie Tartt?” asks some journalist doing some piece on some footballer crap. You don’t know and you don’t care.

“If you’re not going to order anything, I’m going to get my boss and have you removed from the premises,” you reply, undeterred in your mission to wipe down empty tables. Brian loves his coffee shop and is fiercely protective of both his employees and his peaceful atmosphere. Wouldn’t be the first time he’s kicked someone out.

“Well, do you have any comment on the fact that he said you were the love of his life?”

You don’t miss a beat. “No I do not. Can I get you any coffee or should I get Brian?”

The journalist declines both, and is out the door.

Fucking Jamie Tartt. What does he even think he’s doing? How did you even come up in an interview? Was the question, who, Jamie Tartt, is the greatest love of your life?

(You’d find out later that yes, that was the question. The journalist was looking for an answer like “Keeley Jones,” or “Kiera Knightley,” something a little spicy.)

It doesn’t matter, the journalist (you think his name was Trent) is gone and you can go back to making coffee and chatting with the regulars.

—

You should have known that wasn’t the end of it.

God, why can’t you just work in peace? You have enough on your plate, between homework and student loans and the person who’s complaining that their iced coffee is “too cold.”

You don’t need to add “prick footballer ex-boyfriend,” to the list.

But he seems bound and determined to add himself to your list of things to take care of, with the way he’s following you around as you hand people their orders.

“Trent said you wouldn’t talk to him,” he says.

He takes your silence as license to keep going. “Why didn’t you just take the money? Can’t be making much here.”

Do not let him get to you, you remind yourself. Do not sink to his level.

So you just shrug. “I’m not one of those people who fucks a famous footballer just for the money. Now I’m going to give you the same choice I gave that goddamn reporter: you can get a coffee or you can get. Out.”

So Jamie leaves.

—

It figures that your ex would find some way to make your life hell. Sure, you’ve gotten mostly over him and you have your own life and you’re on your way to becoming an accountant because numbers are fun and numbers don’t break your heart. So of course, now is when he decides to show up and have journalists poking around.

But you refuse to talk about him with anyone. It’s rude, in your opinion. It devalues your old relationship and yourself and you won’t do it.

So instead you stay after hours, going over finances at the café while Brian and his boyfriend chatter softly and try new coffee combinations.

You laugh as they bicker and and sip everything they set before you, grateful that you don’t have to think about the day Jamie got signed to Manchester City and decided that he was too good for you.

Unfortunately, you have to go home at some point, which means you’re wide awake in your bed, flatmates all asleep leaving you to replay that whole terrible day.

—

(He said, “It ain’t gonna work, babe, I’m in the Premier League now and I should be with someone who’s at my same level.”

You said, “Don’t call me babe.”

He said, “Don’t waste any tears over me, I won’t be crying so you shouldn’t either.”

You said, “I sure as hell won’t cry over a heartless dick like you.”

He said, “That’s a heartless Premier League dick to you.”

And that was it. A year-long relationship and four year-long friendship down the tubes.)

—

The article hits the papers and now you’re constantly being harassed by journalists.

You read it, the part about you. It was written in interview format, with a bolded question and then Jamie’s response. It was like a glimpse into his personal life, who he was outside the pitch.

Jamie, you’ve had an astonishing career at such a young age, and made a name for yourself both on and off the pitch. Your name has been in the tabloids with many famous models and actresses in the few short years you’ve played in the Premier League. So my question is, in the history of your romantic entanglements, who is the absolute love of your life?

In your opinion, it was a long lead-up to a short question.

Jamie’s response was two words. Your first and last name.

That fucker.

It makes work so bad that you had to hide in the back while Brian tells people to leave.

You apologize profusely once everything’s closed and everyone’s gone.

“I’ll give you my official notice and everything, and I can still help out with finances if you want,” you say. “I’m- not trying to be annoying, but the extra money would be really helpful while I look for another job.”

Brian shakes his head. “I’m not firing you, kid,” he says. “It’ll die down. And Caleb and I are happy to have you over for dinner if you want to talk about it.”

You’re so relieved and grateful that you hug him.

—

It’s late again. You’re in your kitchen. All three of your flatmates are out and will be gone until the morning, so you have the flat all to yourself. You’ve lit some candles and turned on the soft lights, and are criss-cross on the counter listening to Fleetwood Mac with brownies in the oven.

You allow yourself to think about some of the questions that were thrown at you throughout the day.

How long have you known Jamie Tartt?

When was the last time you spoke?

Are you still friends?

You shake your head. Weird.

There’s a knock at the door. Even weirder. You’re not expecting anyone.

You hop down and pad down the hall, standing on tiptoe to peer through the peephole. It’s Jamie. You make a face, double-check that the door is locked, and turn back to the kitchen.

“I know you’re there,” Jamie calls through the door. “I can see the light on, and your car’s out front. I just want to talk.”

You’re not going to open the door, but then he calls your name and you’re rooted to the floor.

You open the door just enough so you can look at him, but not enough that he thinks he can come inside.

“I can’t imagine what you’d have to say to me other than an apology, especially after the day I’ve had,” you say, more fire in your voice than you remembered you had.

The fire dies when you get a good look at Jamie’s face.

It’s different.

He looks… forlorn, almost?

“I do, I do have an apology,” he says. There’s no malice, no conniving look on his face.

You say, “Ok,” in a tone so soft that Jamie could almost forget the anger you just held.

“Look,” he begins, but is cut off by your timer beeping in the kitchen. You sigh.

“I have to get those,” you say. “Can’t burn down the flat. Do you… do you want to come in? Just for a minute.”

Jamie nods and follows you inside, closing the door behind him.

He follows you to the kitchen, close on your heels, where you motion for him to sit while you take out the brownies.

“Right,” he says once you’re leaning on the counter across from him. “Look- I was a prick. I thought I was fucking special because my right foot was kissed by god. I didn’t know how to fucking handle it so I acted like a prick. And I never said I’m sorry.” He takes a breath. “Keeley’s always talkin’ about accountability, so… here I am. Taking fucking accountability.”

You just look at him.

“I’m not looking for forgiveness,” he hurriedly continues. “Just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry for hurting you.”

You’re still not talking, so Jamie gets up.

“Right,” he says. “Right. I’m going to leave ya now. Got fucking trainin tomorrow.”

He’s halfway down the hall when he turns and says, “Oh, by the way, I called your uni. Paid the rest of your tuition, gave them some extra in case you decide you want to keep going.” Then he turns around again and actually heads to the door.

For a moment, you’re too shocked to even move but the magnitude of what he just said sinks in.

“OI,” you bellow. Jamie freezes, hand on the door handle.

“Get. Back here,” you say, voice tight.

“Jamie,” you say once he’s sitting again, “you can’t just pay my student loans. The whole reason I never talk to the press about you is because I don’t want to be like those people who just, like, use you for your money. I had it handled and I don’t need you thinking that I’m just- just- using you. And fuck off with saying that shit in a magazine,” you continue, “You can’t just use me to make yourself more family-friendly. Saying that you like the girl who works in a fucking coffee shop so she can get through school and become an accountant. I mean, what the fuck? Just say it was a model or an actress or something, but don’t use me, because I never used you.”

Jamie shakes his head. “But it’s not like that,” he says earnestly. “I know what you’re like. I know it ain’t about the money. That’s why I said what I said. You really are the love of me life.”

You’re silent, analyzing his face. There’s nothing that indicates he’s lying, and if you can claim to know Jamie at all, you’d have to admit that this might be the most sincere you’ve ever seen him.

All you can manage is a weak, “Oh.”

“I’m really, really sorry.”

“Yeah,” you reply, “you keep saying that. I forgive you. But that doesn’t mean that I want to be friends with you.”

Jamie nods. “Yeah, no I get that, yeah. Right. I’m not looking for that. I just needed you to know.”

You’re both silent for an awkward moment.

“Right,” Jamie says again. “Guess I’d better go. I’ll see you around, I guess.”

You nod, letting Jamie see himself out.

—

“So, you’re not taking him back?”

“Brian,” you say, “why the absolute fuck would I do that?”

He laughs. “I don’t know, if I had some handsome, rich young footballer come to me with an apology that I didn’t ask for, I’d’ve snapped him right up!”

“Don’t let Caleb hear you say that,” you warn.

Brian laughs again. “Oh hon, he’s heard me say so much worse.”

You snort then turn back to the column of numbers in front of you. It’s bright and early, thirty minutes before opening. That gives you twenty minutes to finish what you’re doing before sneaking out the back door. You’re scribbling in the margins in blue glitter pen when there’s a knock on the glass door. You frown.

“Who on earth is knocking?” you ask.

Brian shrugs. “No idea,” he replies as he goes to look.

The frown stays affixed to your face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that Brian just lied.

He’s back a moment later.

“Think these are for you,” he says, arm full of flowers.

You drop your pen.

“What the hell,” you whisper.

Brian just grins and places them on the table. “A nice young man in a pink tracksuit dropped them off. Said to give them to you and that he’ll have more tomorrow.”

“Fucker,” you hiss.

“Me or him?”

You glare. “Both. Either. I don’t care. Take these home to Caleb or put them around the shop. I’m leaving.”

You shuffle your papers together and flee the coffee shop, door banging behind you.

—

“Twat,” you whisper to no one in particular.

Jamie’s delivered flowers every day for a week and a half and you’re not sure how he manages it, but he always avoids being caught by you. You’re not sure why he’s delivering them to your place of work, but you have a hunch that somehow, somehow Brian and Caleb are in on it.

It’s fucking annoying, really. They’re so beautiful and in all your favorite colors and you’re absolutely pissed off that he still knows anything personal about you.

You’re even more pissed off that you like it.

I mean, come on, he has your forgiveness; what more does he want?

The worst part is you actually miss him. You miss the Jamie you dated, the one you fell in love with but are not particularly fond of the Jamie who dumped you when he got signed for Man City. What’s to stop him from doing that again?

You decide you’re going to talk to him.

—

Brian brings in a particularly large bunch the next day and you’re on your feet in a flash. You’re out the door before he can ask where you’re going, but he doesn’t need to. He already knows.

You look up and down the street. You know Jamie couldn’t have gotten far.

You catch a flash of blonde hair zipping away to your right.

“TARTT,” you bellow.

The blonde hair freezes as you march up the street.

Jamie turns and grins sheepishly, “Hey, love,” he says.

“Stop bringing me flowers. It’s fucking annoying.”

It might be Jamie’s imagination, but there seems to be slightly less rage in your eyes today.

“Thought you liked that sort of thing,” he says.

“I do,” you say, “usually. When I know why it’s happening. I don’t know why you’re doing it. You already paid my student loans and apologized. I don’t really know what else you want from me.”

“A second chance,” Jamie says promptly. “I weren’t kidding in the article. You can tell me to fuck off right now and I’ll leave you alone. Can’t promise that I’ll never hurt you again, but I can fucking guarantee it won’t be on purpose.”

You’re silent, giving Jamie the tiniest spark of hope.

“Fuck you,” you finally say. Jamie raises an eyebrow as you glare at him. “Fuck you for actually fucking changing. And for making me love you again. You’re all I can fucking think about and it’s been driving me crazy, and Brian’s been no help with all his, ‘you should call him,’ and ‘he seems like a good lad.’ He’s fucking right and I’m fucking mad about it.”

“Yeah?” Jamie asks, “Why don’t you tell me more over dinner tonight? I’ll take you on a proper date.”

You actually smile at him for the first time in ages. “Alright,” you reply, “one date. One. We’ll see where it goes from there.”

Jamie doesn’t care. You’re smiling, which means he’s already won the whole fucking thing. He’s yours again, and he’s not going to fuck it up.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

532 notes · View notes

lilacevans · 3 months

Text

meet some of the pete's place regulars!

˚ ♡ ✧.* : ̗̀➛ requests by: two anons, @welight-theway, @crokitheloki, @hansensgirl, @buggy14, @leaderofthebadbitchbrigade.

✧.*ೃ⁀➷ pete's place | the intro | opening night | the playlist ༊*·˚

this is a dark au/verse. minors need not interact. happy endings don't happen here.

𝐀𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐞𝐫 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫

41 years old.

6’2’’.

Suburban dad with a dark side.

Likes flashing the cash for a look as he doesn’t get much attention back home.

Never misses stopping by when he’s in town.

Has a type and it just so happens to be you.

Brings you gifts; new outfits, new shoes, gold chains, etc, every single time he visits the club.

Will spend the whole night promising you the world– and his wallet, if you just go home with him.

Top Three: Daddy Kink, Overstimulation, Praise Kink.

𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐕𝐞𝐭

45 years old.

6’4’’.

Oh, what a nice man–

Warning sirens sound in the distance.

Danger! Danger!

The man will make you beg, make you cry, rearrange your insides, make you fall in love and break you down all within a night.

The man is all kinds of fucked up. But knows how to hide it well.

Under Lloyds employement so like, you can guess the kinds of fucked up.

Did awful things while serving in the army, brought some of that back home with him.

Protect you? More like slaughter anyone who gives you a momentary glance.

Top Three: Rough (Violent) Sex, Service Kink, Corruption Kink.

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐛𝐨𝐲

28 years old.

6’1’’.

Cocky motherfucker, hot and he knows it.

The embodiment of a hyper puppy.

Acts like he’s always got the zoomies whenever he’s in the club.

Annoys the absolute shit out of all the girls but he’s hot, so they deal with it.

Secretly a sweetheart but never shuts his mouth.

Gets a little too handsy when he’s had a drink– or five.

Always asking Pete to loan him one of his girls for the night.

Don’t get him twisted, the guy FUCKS. and he's NASTY about it

Top Three: Dirty Talk, Deepthroating, Body Worship (receiving).

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐟

43 years old.

6’0’’.

Corrupt little wank, like’s to make Pete nervous when he comes around, but he’d never spill on the shady things as he likes the club’s views.

Talks big shit but you’ll find him in the VIP rooms on a Saturday night.

A little wrong in the head, but treat him right and he’ll make you scream.

Can get a little rough with the girls when he's had a few.

Tight with money so always tries it on for a discount for not opening his mouth.

Has a big cock and is smug about it.

Likes 'em on their knees with an wide open mouth.

Top Three: Daddy Kink, Corruption Kink, Choking.

𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐖𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐬 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐲𝐬𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫

32 years old

6’0’’.

Troubled addict that’s in the club; Every. Single. Night.

Likes just to watch, girls kinda hate him in the club because he won’t even throw a dollar bill but will spend a paycheck on drinks and other things.

Spends money he doesn’t have, does the odd job for Pete when he’s in a little legal trouble which gets him the odd night in the VIP rooms.

Don’t underestimate him though.

Will have you crawling back for seconds.

While not the roughest by any means, get him high enough and annoyed enough, he’ll make sure you’re not walking for the next two weeks.

Top Three: High Sex, Overstimulation, Throat-Fucking.

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐊𝐞𝐦𝐩 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞

35 years old

6’1’’.

Idk, fam, somethings off about this one but we're gonna ignore it, okay?

Stares a little too long, kinda like he’s hunting.

Makes your heart race a little being around him– fuck or fight i guess. I know which I’m doing.

Tips nicely but never wants a private dance, likes to watch and drop cash at your feet after.

Weirdo tbh. It’s not like he ain’t got the money.

Sucks to be you if you decide to go home with him.

You ain't coming back, honey.

Top Three: Blood Play, Knife Play, Bondage/Rope.

*** if by chance, i have missed your req and you know you sent it before reqs were closed, please let me know asap so i can add it to this list!! thank u all sm for u patience. i love u all<33

164 notes · View notes

seoafin · 10 months

Text

shoko x f!reader (main pairing); gojo satoru x f!reader x geto suguru 1.2k words; no warnings just general high school clownery!!! part of the summertime record series

There's an unsettling feeling that creeps over you as you approach the door to your classroom. It's so potent that you pause for a second, hand lingering in the air before you slide the door open.

You take in the scene before you.

It’s an unusual sight, but you’ve come to realize that unusual has become the norm when it comes to your new classmates. Geto Suguru and Gojo Satoru, two powerful jujutsu sorcerers who had taken to each other immediately, for better and for worse.

Geto is gripping Gojo’s wrist, pinning the white haired boy’s outstretched right arm to the desk, the weight of his body hunched over and leveled against Gojo's own to ensure he stays put. Gojo is struggling to use his remaining hand to pull his other one away, but it’s futile against Geto’s ironclad grip.

There is a knife in Shoko’s hand. A regular knife for food preparation that must have been swiped from the kitchen.

The knife is poised right above Gojo’s wrist.

"Let’s just—” Gojo’s voice pitches high, “wait wait wait wait—"

You stare.

Three gazes turn to you. Gojo’s sunglasses are askew on his face, face feverish with a rising panic.

"Ah, perfect timing." Shoko smiles pleasantly. You stare some more. Then in a perfectly amicable tone she gestures to the katana slung over your shoulder. “We're testing Gojo’s limitless. Can I borrow your katana?"

You wordlessly slide the sheath off your shoulder and hand it to her.

"Sell out!" Gojo condemns, squirming and floundering underneath Geto’s body. You observe that he looks like a miserable fish gasping for air on dry land.

Shoko turns to you, straight faced. "This is for science."

Despite the arduous task of restraining the aforementioned male, Geto only looks slightly winded as his lips curl into another perfectly pleasant smile matching Shoko’s own. “Please,” he says congenially, in a tone that would suggest anything but the cold blooded torture about the ensue. He nods at an empty seat in front of a spare desk. “Enjoy the show.”

“This is my hand we’re talking about—!”

A particularly bony elbow slams into Geto’s chest as you take a seat. Geto remains unfazed. You sit with a wide yawn in an attempt to chase away the last stubborn dredges of sleep.

"I can reattach it." Ieiri says. You can sense the flow of reverse cursed energy in her fingertips as she flexes them. She shrugs. "I think."

Gojo balks, whiter than a ghost. "O-kay. I'm sorry. Hear that Suguru? I said I'm sorry! I won't do it again!”

Even to your ears, it doesn’t sound particularly sincere.

Geto must come to the same conclusion, because he pretends not to hear.

The apologies take a sharp turn. “It’s not my fault you tripped like an idiot into that curse’s mouth—”

“Let’s get started, shall we?” Geto interrupts.

He turns to Shoko who holds your unsheathed katana with steady hands. Light dances over the blade, sharp enough that a stray finger on the flat edge could easily draw blood. It’s a beautiful blade, on loan to you from the Kamo family. Your favorite one out of the many that have passed your hands. Most katana users you’ve come to find, are particularly possessive over their blades, like they would a lover, but you think this one looks right at home in Shoko’s elegant hands.

Gojo eyes the prized blade as if it’s the evilest thing to have graced his presence. You know this because it’s an even worse, beadier look than the one he used to give you. Now he only looks at you as if he doesn’t quite know what to say to you now that the two of you have settled into a tentative kind of relationship-not-friendship. You don't miss his antagonism. It's a welcome change.

Shoko levels the sharp blade of your katana against Gojo’s long index finger, above the knuckle. In response, as a last resort, the fingers curl against the desk, ensuring a messy cut.

"Hm,” a slow smile spreads over her face. “A finger? Or the wrist?"

Geto's smile is merciless. It comes easier to him than you would have originally expected. "All of it.”

There’s a yelp. Something utterly incomprehensible leaves Gojo’s mouth. You think it could be his spirit ejecting itself from his body, floating into the air.

There’s a glint in Shoko’s eyes. "Roger that."

A rush of cursed energy fills the katana, imbuing it with malicious intentions.

There is no clear indication of the infinity shrouding Gojo’s body other than the presence of his cursed energy, but you know it has to be in effect because as Shoko furiously saws at the appendage, the blade never sinks into flesh. Sweat forms on Gojo’s brow as he stares intently at the portion of invisible space right above his wrist.

With bated breaths, the three of you stare.

The sawing stops. “Huh, it really doesn’t go through.” Shoko remarks flippantly, stepping away with a shrug. “A shame.”

Geto sighs, loosening his grip.

Gojo springs away with a shaky bark of laughter, too far away from Geto and Shoko and you to be anything but the intention to maintain a distance.

“Of course it wouldn’t have gone through,” he snaps. The relief is evident on his face as he straightens his wrinkled uniform. He waves an accusatory finger at the three of you. “Now you’ve all had your fun!”

Geto and Shoko look too disappointed, without any hint of remorse on their faces.

“Pfft.”

It slips from your mouth before you can help it. Your lips wobble despite your attempt to stifle the laughter growing in your stomach by firmly pressing your lips shut.

Your loud laughter envelopes the room as Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko stare at you, slack mouthed.

“I’m…” the remnants of laughter wrack your body, “sorry…”

You hadn’t meant to laugh. You think it’s been a long time since you last laughed.

Gojo’s usual black sunglasses have slid down the bridge of his nose, revealing the wide blue expanse of his eyes. “You laugh?”

“I do,” you answer seriously.

Then you smile widely. The motion is still unfamiliar to your lips but you find it’s a bit easier now. There are things to smile about now. The friendly shrine cats, the warmth of the sun on your skin when you settle down to take a nap, Shoko’s laughter. There’s a raised empty bed of soil in front of the dorms. No flowers or plants. Yaga-sensei had told you that the contractors had been recalled before anything could begin. Then he handed you a book on horticulture.

You don’t know much about plants or flowers or gardening, but you’d like to start.

“You’re dumb,” Shoko directs towards him as she takes the seat next to you. “And you,” Shoko says to Geto. “You’ll catch flies.”

Geto’s mouth snaps shut. You find that he doesn’t meet your eyes, but Shoko easily leans her head against your shoulder and you don’t think much of anything but the weight of her and how good she smells.

In the next second, Yaga-sensei steps into the class, and levels the four of you with a suspicious look.

“Class is starting,” he says, raising an eyebrow when he sees Shoko pressed close to you. Before he turns to the blackboard, you catch a glimpse of a smile. “The four of you in your seats.”

For the first time in a long time, you stay awake through a lesson.

#this was one of the very first things i wrote jjk centered like 2-3?? years ago wowwwwww #in celebration of the first ep tmmr!#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #ieiri shoko x reader #str #m.jjk

428 notes · View notes

mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year

Text

When you hear "fintech," think "unlicensed bank"

Tomorrow (May 2) I’ll be in Portland at the Cedar Hills Powell’s with Andy Baio for my new novel, Red Team Blues.

In theory, patents are for novel, useful inventions that aren’t obvious “to a skilled practitioner of the art.” But as computers ate our society, grifters began to receive patents for “doing something we’ve done for centuries…with a computer.” “With a computer”: those three words had the power to cloud patent examiners’ minds.

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/01/usury/#tech-exceptionalism

Patent trolls — who secure “with a computer” patents and then extract ransoms from people doing normal things on threat of a lawsuit — are an underappreciated form of “tech exceptionalism.” Normally, “tech exceptionalism” refers to bros who wave away things like privacy invasions by arguing that “with a computer” makes it all different.

These tech exceptionalists are the legit face of tech exceptionalism, the Forbes 30 Under 30 set. They’re grifters, but they’re celebrated grifters. There’s a whole bottom-feeding sludge of tech exceptionalists that don’t get the same kind of attention, like patent trolls.

Oh, and the fintech industry.

As Riley Quinn says, “when you hear ‘fintech,’ think: ‘unlicensed bank.’” The majority of fintech “innovation” consists of adding “with a computer” to highly regulated activities and declaring them to be unregulated (and, in the case of crypto, unregulatable).

There are a lot of heavily regulated financial activities, like dealing in securities (something the crypto industry is definitely doing and claims it isn’t). Most people don’t buy or sell securities regularly — indeed, most Americans own little or no stocks.

But you know what regulated financial activity a lot of Americans participate in?

Going into debt.

As wages stagnate and the price of housing, medical care, childcare, transportation and education soar, Americans fund their consumption with debt. Trillions of dollars’ worth of debt. Many of us are privileged to borrow money by walking into a bank and asking for a loan, but millions of Americans are denied that genteel experience.

Instead, working Americans increasingly rely on payday lenders and other usurers who charge sky-high interest rates, on top of penalties and fees, trapping borrowers in an endless cycle of indebtedness. This is an historical sign of a civilization in decline: productive workers require loans to engage in useful activities. Normally, the activity pans out — the crop comes in, say — and the debt is repaid.

But eventually, you’ll get a bad beat. The crop fails, the workshop burns down, a pandemic shuts down production. Instead of paying off your debt, you have to roll it over. Now, you’re in an even worse situation, and the next time you catch a bad break, you go further into debt. Over time, all production comes under the control of creditors.

The historical answer to this is jubilee: a regular wiping-away of all debt. While this was often dressed up in moral language, there was an absolutely practical rationale for it. Without jubilee, eventually, all the farmers stop growing food so that they can grow ornamental flowers for their creditors’ tables. Then, as starvation sets in, civilization collapses:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/08/jubilant/#construire-des-passerelles

As the debt historian Michael Hudson says, “Debts that can’t be paid, won’t be paid.” Without jubilee, indebtedness becomes a chronic and inescapable condition. As more and more creditors attach their claims to debtors’ assets, they have to compete with one another to terrorize the debtor into paying them off, first. One creditor might threaten to garnish your paycheck. Another, to repossess your car. Another, to evict you from your home. Another, to break your arm. Debts that can’t be paid, won’t be paid — but when you have a choice between a broken arm and stealing from your kid’s college fund or the cash-register, maybe the debt can be paid…a little. Of course, digital tools offer all kinds of exciting new tools for arm-breakers — immobilizing your car, say, or deleting the apps on your phone, starting with the ones you use most often:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/02/innovation-unlocks-markets/#digital-arm-breakers

Under Trump, payday lenders romped through America. A lobbyist for the payday lenders became a top Trump lawyer:

https://theintercept.com/2017/11/27/white-house-memo-justifying-cfpb-takeover-was-written-by-payday-lender-attorney/

This lobbyist then oversaw Trump’s appointment of a Consumer Finance Protection Bureau boss who deregulated payday lenders, opening the door to triple digit interest rates:

https://www.latimes.com/business/lazarus/la-fi-lazarus-cfpb-payday-lenders-20180119-story.html

To justify this, the payday loan industry found corruptible academics and paid them to write papers defending payday loans as “inclusive.” These papers were secretly co-authored by payday loan industry lobbyists:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/business/2019/02/25/how-payday-lending-industry-insider-tilted-academic-research-its-favor/

Of course, Trump doesn’t read academic papers, so the payday lenders also moved their annual conference to a Trump resort, writing the President a check for $1m:

https://www.propublica.org/article/trump-inc-podcast-payday-lenders-spent-1-million-at-a-trump-resort-and-cashed-in

Biden plugged many of the cracks that Trump created in the firewalls that guard against predatory lenders. Most significantly, he moved Rohit Chopra from the FTC to the CFPB, where, as director, he has overseen a determined effort to rein in the sector. As the CFPB re-establishes regulation, the fintech industry has moved in to add “with a computer” to many regulated activities and so declare them beyond regulation.

One fintech “innovation” is the creation of a “direct to consumer Earned Wage Access” product. Earned Wage Access is just a fancy term for a program some employers offer whereby workers can get paid ahead of payday for the hours they’ve already worked. The direct-to-consumer EWA offers loans without verifying that the borrower has money coming in. Companies like Earnin claim that their faux EWA services are free, but in practice, everyone who uses the service pays for the “Lightning Speed” upsell.

Of course they do. Earnin charges sky-high interest rates and twists borrowers’ arms into leaving a “tip” for the service (yes, they expect you to tip your loan-shark!). Anyone desperate enough to pay triple-digit interest rates and tip the service for originating their loan is desperate and needs to the money now:

https://prospect.org/power/05-01-2023-fintech-ewa-payday-loan-scam/

EWA annual interest rates sit around 300%. The average EWA borrower uses the service two or three times every month. EWA CEOs and lobbyists claim that they’re banking the unbanked — but the reality is that they’re acting as sticky-fingered brokers between banks and young, poor workers, marking up traditional bank services.

This fact is rarely mentioned when EWA companies lobby state legislatures seeking to be exempted from usury rules that are supposed to curb predatory lenders. In Vermont, Earnin wants an exemption from the state’s 18% interest rate cap — remember, the true APR for EWA loans is about 300%.

In Texas, payday lenders are classed as loan brokers, not loan originators and are thus able to avoid the state’s usury caps. EWAs are lobbying the Texas legislature for further exemptions from state money-transmitter and usury limit laws, principally on the strength of the “it’s different: we do it with a computer” logic.

But as Jarod Facundo writes for The American Prospect, quoting Monica Burks from the Center for Responsible Lending, a loan is a loan even if it’s with a computer: “The industry is trying to create a new definition for what a loan is in order to exempt themselves from existing consumer protection laws… When you offer someone a portion of money on the promise that they will repay it, and often that repayment will be accompanied with fees or charges or interest, that’s what a loan is.”

Catch me on tour with Red Team Blues in Mountain View, Berkeley, Portland, Vancouver, Calgary, Toronto, DC, Gaithersburg, Oxford, Hay, Manchester, Nottingham, London, and Berlin!

[Image ID: A stately, columnated bank building, bedecked in garish payday lender signs.]

Image: Andre Carrotflower (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:30_North_%28former_Pontiac_Commercial_%26_Savings_Bank_Building%29,_Pontiac,_Michigan_-_entrance_and_Chief_Pontiac_relief_sculpture_-_20201213.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #cfpb #earned wage access #digital armbreakers #loansharks #payday lenders #tech exceptionalism #jubilee #debt #fintech #usury #michael hudson #graeber #debts that can't be paid wont be paid

670 notes · View notes

epochofbelief · 3 months

Text

Strictly Confidential: A Feysand AU

Chapter One

She's a law student turned confidential informant. He's a prosecutor with only one goal: bringing down her boyfriend for illegal activity . . . What could go wrong?

Hi everyone! Here's chapter one. I hope you enjoy. Let me know if you're interested in being tagged. Any thoughts on the story are much appreciated, too!

Chapter One

Feyre collapsed against the wall as soon as class was over. Sweat dripped from her temples, sliding over the layer of concealer she had plastered on that morning. She wiped her forehead, swearing to herself once again that this would be the last time she allowed Tamlin to drag her to a Crossfit class.

Even though she had made and broken that same mental promise to herself three times a week for the past six months.

As she guzzled from her near empty water bottle, Tamlin slung a sweaty arm over her shoulders, his skin against hers slick. Oily. “Got any of that left?” Tamlin asked, already reaching for the water bottle.

Feyre sighed, handing it off to him. “A few drops.”

He knocked it back without another word. Not an appreciative smile. No thank you, Feyre. Not even a nod of gratitude for the water he had taken from her.

As she followed Tamlin out of the warehouse where the Crossfit classes were held, Feyre made another vow. The first of its kind, but perhaps with more resolve behind it than the one she had made only moments ago.

She was going to break up with him this week.

Feyre trailed Tamlin through the parking lot, eyes on the back of his neck, his blonde hair stuck to it with sweat. Her boyfriend of over a year had fallen into conversation with his best friend, Lucien. Lucien was also a regular at these Crossfit classes, but had met Tamlin through work. Tamlin had hired Lucien as his Director of Operations at his company, Spring Solutions. Five years later, the duo were best friends.

Lucien climbed into the passenger seat of Tamlin’s expensive truck, leaving Feyre to haul herself into the back as usual. Tamlin swung into the driver’s seat and made short of work of getting the vehicle out of the parking lot and onto the highway that would carry them back into the city, back to the building where Tamlin and Feyre shared an apartment and Lucien lived a few floors down.

As the two discussed something about work—a topic Feyre didn’t particularly care about—she thought more about the terrifying new task she had set for herself.

Breaking up with Tamlin wouldn’t be simple.

Because it was her life, of course, and things were never simple.

She had shared an apartment with Tam, who was nearly seven years her senior, since the beginning of her second year of law school. Now, a month into her third and final year, their lives were fully intertwined. Feyre paid a few hundred dollars of rent each month, but Tamlin footed most of the bill. The downtown apartment was expensive, something Feyre could never afford on her own thanks to her law student’s budget.

She rarely paid for meals, either. Tamlin subscribed to one of those ultra-healthy meal services. A week’s worth of dinners delivered to their door every Monday morning. Feyre cooked them on study breaks, and the two would usually share a quick meal before Tamlin logged back on to work in his home office and Feyre returned to her books.

Most of the furniture was his, as was the art on the walls. The kitchen utensils, pots, pans. The bed they shared. Everything.

If Feyre moved out, she would have to return to her father’s house or increase the amount of student loans she had already taken out that semester. Neither option sounded appealing. She had lived with her father and her two older sisters her whole life—all throughout her undergraduate studies and until the end of her first year of law school. How she had made it so long trapped in that house, caring for her family in much the same way she cared for Tamlin, Feyre had no idea. So when Tamlin had proposed the idea of moving in together, she jumped at the chance. Didn't think farther than Get me out of my childhood home.

She hadn't considered what would happen if things didn’t work out. If she decided he wasn’t the one for her anymore.

She had gone straight from her father’s house to Tamlin’s apartment, and had fallen into Tamlin’s lifestyle, even if she still wasn’t quite used to it.

At least the bed in the guest room was hers, and the nightstand and the few books she had taken from her father’s house. Her painting supplies.

“Babe?” Tamlin’s voice scattered the plans she was fruitlessly trying to cobble together in her mind.

“What?” She inquired, blinking up at her boyfriend.

“I asked if you wanted to get dinner out tonight.”

Feyre bit her lip. She had already put off studying to come to Crossfit—if she didn’t get home soon, she would have to burn the midnight oil to get all her reading for class done at a decent hour.

“I really have to study,” she said quietly, praying he wouldn’t try to convince her to come to dinner. Because he would never let up and she, inevitably, would give in.

At Tamlin’s sigh, she tentatively tried again. “I’m really sorry! I wish my professors didn’t assign such long readings, but I can’t change it.”

He didn’t say anything.

“You know I would come to dinner if I could. I would much rather do that.” The words weren’t new—she’d used some variation of them numerous times over the past year and a half. They had almost lost all meaning to her, but she’d found this was the best combination to keep Tamlin happy: apologize, provide an excuse that was outside of her control, and assure him that he would always be her first choice.

“Alright. We’ll drop you at home and come back later.”

Feyre choked back her sigh of relief. “Sounds good. Thanks, babe.”

Lucien’s eyes met hers in the rearview mirror—one ginger eyebrow cocking slightly. Feyre looked away, gaze fixing on her lap.

Twenty minutes later, she waved at the car as it sped down the street toward Tamlin and Lucien’s favorite sports bar. With any luck, Lucien would get him drinking beers and talking about work, and she would have at least three hours to herself to shower. Study. Maybe even time enough to feign sleep by the time Tamlin returned.

And indeed, she managed to accomplish everything she needed to do just before Tamlin came stumbling into the apartment hours later. Feyre shut her eyes tight from her spot on the right side of the bed, her fledgling plans swirling through her thoughts until she well and truly drifted away.

-----

The next morning, Feyre gazed at herself in the mirror, turning this way and that to make sure every inch of her suit was clean and pressed to perfection, not a wrinkle in sight. The black jacket clung to her narrow frame, the pencil skirt she wore beneath it as flattering as a skirt that cut her off just below the knee could be. Her golden-brown hair fell in loose waves just past her shoulders, watery blue eyes popping thanks to the brown mascara she had applied.

“You look amazing,” a voice from behind her said.

Feyre turned, smiling at her boyfriend despite all the promises and plans she had made the night before. “Thanks, honey.”

“What’s the occasion?” Tamlin asked, striding forward and placing his hands on her hips.

Feyre stepped back, grinning up at him. “No touching. I have an important networking event with my firm today and I can’t get all wrinkly.”

Tamlin held up his hands, backing away a step. “My apologies, Ms. Archeron.”

Feyre smiled. Tamlin wasn’t always awful.

Just most of the time.

“So when can I expect you home today?”

Feyre sighed, grabbing her backpack and purse and brushing past Tamlin, striding out of the closet and into the master bathroom. “I’ve got a full day of classes, and then this networking event at six. I’m not sure how long it will go, but I’m really hoping to be back by eight.”

“Just as well,” Tamlin said. “I’ve got a late night at work—probably won’t be home until after ten.” Feyre nodded, and Tamlin followed her out of the bathroom, through the bedroom, and down the hall to the kitchen. Feyre grabbed the smoothie she had made earlier that morning and tucked her lunchbox into her backpack.

“Have a good day, honey,” she said, pressing a kiss to Tamlin’s lips. He nipped at her lower lip, green eyes sparking. But Feyre just smiled, retreated, and didn’t breathe deep until she made it to the hallway, door automatically locking behind her.

This week. She was going to do it this week.

Feyre’s day dragged on in one long, miserable slog. She got cold-called by her professors in two of her classes, but she managed to answer most of the questions correctly, her heart thudding violently in her chest all the while.

Cold calls and the Socratic method of teaching were one of her least favorite parts of law school. Most professors gave no warning to their students before they called their names, subjecting them to several questions of the professor’s choosing. If you didn’t know the answer, they might move on. But some waited for you to at least attempt to respond, while the class stared and stared and hands jumped into the air all around, telling you that they knew the answer, that it was obvious. Answering a question correctly felt wonderful—but answering incorrectly usually caused Feyre’s cheeks to burn a bright red.

It didn’t matter how many of the randomly determined “calls” Feyre endured—every time a professor spoke her name, her hands started sweating, her heart rate climbing up and up and up until the professor moved on to another victim.

She spent a few hours at the library after class, tucked in her favorite corner. It was private, but better than sitting in the main quad where most of the law students gathered to study during daytime hours. Feyre hadn’t spent any notable length of time in the quad since the first semester of her 1L year. As her relationship with Tamlin progressed, the few friends she had made faded away as Feyre opted to attend the fancy dinner parties and events Tamlin invited her to. Maintaining a new relationship and keeping up with her studies didn’t leave much time for anything else—not even friends. That wasn’t to mention the time she had spent at home with her sisters and father her entire first year of school, taking care of most of the housekeeping and cooking duties because the rest of her family had “real jobs” and Feyre was still “just a student” who didn’t work a regular 9-5.

Now, she felt like a ghost in the halls of the school. She would wave to her old friends if they passed in the hallways, but Feyre had long ago accepted that this would be her law school experience: sitting in the back of the classroom, answering questions if forced, and generally keeping to herself.

It was a quiet, small existence she led. Class. Tamlin. Attending whatever events or obligations Tamlin dragged her to. Studying.

After she’d had enough studying for the day, Feyre took the train to downtown Prythian, checking her makeup at least four times before the train arrived at its stop a few blocks from a large hotel and event center in the heart of the city. She started to walk the five minutes to the hotel, staring up at the enormous shiny buildings rising around her.

To think, this would be where she worked full-time in just a few short months.

Thanks to competitive firm recruiting, Feyre had had her post-grad job lined up since the summer. She would be starting as a junior associate at Hybern & Night LLP, one of the largest and most powerful national firms in the country. Jobs at Hybern & Night were hard to come by, but thanks to Feyre’s top 5% ranking at Prythian University Law School, and her ability to say all the right things under pressure, she’d scored a job during early interviewing last summer.

The firm occupied the upper floors of one of the tallest buildings downtown. Tonight it was holding a networking event for its partners, associates, recruits, and other lawyers in the community.

She could have skipped the event, but her career counselor had emphasized how important it was to immerse herself in firm activities as quickly as possible—it would make her transition from student to junior associate much smoother, and allow her to make connections with more senior attorneys and partners who might be willing to provide projects for her to work on when she started.

So, she was here, clicking down the shadowed streets of downtown Prythian, gearing herself up to rub elbows with some of the city's wealthiest attorneys.

Some day soon, she would be one of them.

Feyre tugged her coat closer around herself, the chill in the air signaling autumn’s impending arrival. A block away, the windows of the event center glowed warmly in the shadows of the buildings around her. She increased her pace, and soon found herself ensconced in a world of cocktails and arguments. Feyre made a beeline for the refreshments table. She could certainly count on attorneys to ensure there was an open bar at events like this. She seized a glass of red wine and cast her gaze around the room, but didn’t recognize anyone. She had interviewed with at least five of the attorneys from Hybern & Night in order to get her job, but they were nowhere to be seen.

Feyre thanked the man who served her the wine, swallowing back memories of her own time spent as a bartender at Humane, one of the filthiest hole-in-the-wall bars in all of Prythian. She would have preferred talking to the bartender—less posturing required—but forced herself to skirt around the room, looking around for someone to engage in conversation.

She had almost completed a full lap when an enormous man leaned against the wall just in front of her.

“You look lost,” his deep voice rumbled, light brown hair sliding over his forehead, pale green eyes gazing down at her. His cheeks were flushed—probably from the alcohol—and as his eyes slid over her, Feyre was glad she hadn’t yet removed her coat.

“Not lost. Just—” Feyre broke off, shaking her head. “Feyre Archeron,” she said, offering a hand. “I’ll be starting as a first-year associate at Hybern & Night next August.”

“Jax Smith,” he said, an enormous hand encompassing hers. “I'm in my eighth year at Hybern & Night. Hoping to make partner next year. It’s nice to meet you, Feyre.”

Feyre swallowed, taking her hand back and sliding it into her pocket. “You too.” She cast around for one of her pre-prepared questions: So how do you like working at the firm? Any advice for 3L students preparing to enter the workforce? How do you survive the eighty hour workweeks year after year after year? Is the money worth it?

Luckily, Feyre didn’t have to resort to any of her questions, because Jax spoke for her.

“You look awfully young to be a 3L,” he commented, gaze sliding up and down her body.

Feyre cocked an eyebrow, a chill trailing down her spine. “I’m twenty-three.”

“That’s young.”

Feyre gritted her teeth. This was certainly unprofessional. “Not too young, I hope,” she said, forcing a smile. This man was going to be her coworker. She couldn’t just turn around and flee. “I’ll be twenty-four this December,” she said brightly. “Practically collecting Social Security.”

Jax didn’t smile. Only narrowed his eyes like he was trying to see through her coat.

Feyre swallowed another gulp of wine, and as he inched closer, she realized that the alcove where they stood was mostly obscured by two of the many enormous columns ringing the event center. There weren’t any lights in this section, and no one else seemed to be paying them any attention. The rest of the networking attorneys seemed miles away, even the sounds of their voices muffled by a dull roaring that started in Feyre’s head as Jax’s gaze fixed her in place.

“And are you married, Feyre?” Jax asked, one arm resting on the wall next to her head. His gaze dropped to her left hand, wrapped around the stem of her wineglass, her fourth finger obviously bereft of any ring.

“No,” she said, backing away another step.

But her admission only seemed to encourage Jax. He slid forward, eyes focused somewhere just south of her neck, where her coat had fallen open to reveal the v-neck of her dress shirt. “I would be happy to meet you for a coffee sometime. Maybe even a drink. Tell you more about the firm, away from all these stuffy partners. We could even find somewhere quieter here. To talk.” His eyes slid to the hall that led who-knew-where, just behind Feyre, stretching off into the shadows of the hotel.

Feyre’s eyes widened, a lump forming in her throat. This man was her future coworker, her senior. He might even be partner by the time she started at the firm. To turn him down could be fatal. If he took offense, he could spin it any number of ways: She had no interest in learning more about the firm. Couldn’t care less about team-building and getting to know her coworkers. Clearly came for the wine and nothing else.

He could ruin her reputation. And that was something she couldn’t afford. Not if she ever wanted to be free of Tamlin, of her family.

“What do you say?” Jax asked, bending down, his face so close to hers she could feel his breath hot against her cheek.

“I—” Feyre started.

But another man’s voice, smooth as velvet and gentle as the night, floated into the alcove, startling Jax and sending a wave of relief over Feyre.

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

#acotar #feysand #a court of thorns and roses #acomaf #sarah j maas #fanfiction #feyre archeron #rhysand #feyre x rhysand #modern au #feysand modern au #strictlyconfidentialau

126 notes · View notes

switchcase · 4 months

Text

✨ You Are American, Poor, and Have Some Sort of Health Problem ✨

This is not intended to say these things are easy to obtain or will be obtainable in every single circumstance. But especially for new adults, people who just started having health problems, people who have recently fallen on hard times, you may see things that you didn't know about.

Ethics:

Brush up on your patient rights. Knowing your rights and options is important.

Every hospital has a patient rights advocate.

There are typically state-wide patient rights and disability rights organizations.

There are state and federal boards that practitioners are licensed in. Reporting a practitioner to the board does NOT require a lawyer or court money. You are just reporting them/their behavior for the board(s) to investigate.

Cost:

Medicaid is a government program based on income, not disability. You can enroll during Open Enrollment at the end of the year or in special circumstances. This is the most commonly known one.

State, county, or city health insurance programs. Likely not available in very rural areas, but sometimes is. There is often a program for individuals who are low income but ineligible for Medicaid--each program has different names. Calling 2-1-1 or searching "state/county/city low income health insurance" will bring it up.

Hospital Charity Care. Charity Care are laws that exist in states that says people under a certain income level can have their medical costs/debts waived. The exact specifics will depend on the state. Hospitals try to hide this info on their website so if you can't find it best to ask directly for a charity care application and about eligibility with the billing dept or patient rights advocate.

Community clinics and teaching institutions generally offer very low cost care, and community clinics in particular will let you know about programs you may be eligible for.

There may be prescription cost help programs in your area.

Vocational Rehabilitation is a government program that exists in every state. Their goal is to get you functioning well enough to work or go to school. Which means they will pay for: doctors appts including diagnostic tests, disability aids, training, school costs, etc. You will not owe them if you end up unable to work/go to school.

You can write off medical costs and medically necessary items on your taxes. You can also get your taxes done for free if you're low income. Just let them know the costs if you aren't doing it yourself. This includes accessible home renovations, disability aids, regular appointment costs.

Search for bill help in your area or call 2-1-1 again. Much of the time, there will be charity organizations that assist with all sorts of bills. Most of them will be churches.

If you have a condition that is generally costly, you probably know this but if you don't, search "[condition] charity". Sometimes there are orgs that exist specifically to help fund care for that condition, eg the various MS orgs.

IF YOU ARE APPLYING FOR SSI/SSDI: be very aware that amounts you fundraise may be counted as your income/assets unless you SPECIFICALLY tell them that you're getting it as charity/on loan! If you are currently on SSI, fundraising from your personal acct does in fact affect your eligibility to stay on SSI. Be careful.

Logistics:

For transportation: sometimes, not always, there are local programs for getting you to/from doctors appointments. This can be helpful if public transport is not accessible to you.

Disability lawyers do not cost you money up front, they take the money from your backpay IF you win your case.

#cripplepunk #cripple punk #disability #actuallydisabled #.log #If you've been disabled for a while this is probably a very 'yeah yeah I know' type post but y'know #Feel free to add on but for the love of god can people Not jump up my ass talking about how they can't do xyz #That sucks. Truly it sucks. That doesn't make this information unnecessary to mention

279 notes · View notes

kakiastro · 6 months

Text

Money in Astrology

Hey yall! I’m back today with a new post that’s going to discuss all things about your money! Yes, you can use astrology to help better your financials and what you can do to live a comfortable life that suits you!

To understand your money situation, you need 3 different charts to look at, Look at this like a cake, there’s 3 charts which means 3 layers:

First layer is your Natal Chart: this is the base on how to gain money. It’s the abilities you were born with and what you’ve learned from past lives

2nd layer is your Progessed chart: this is the 2nd layer to how to gain money. Progressed chart is the stage you are in life currently

3rd layer is your Solar Return Chart: this is the final layer to gain money. Solar return aka “your birthday” is the overall energy of that year for you.

The frosting of the cake is you putting this all together.

For one example: let’s say in your natal chart you have a Gemini 2h, Progressed has Cancer 2h and Solar has Aquarius 2h. Let’s put it all together.

So let’s say you’re a writer for a journalism company because Gemini rules over writing and Journalism. This is what you were naturally drawn to do to make a living. Now let’s say 10 years has passed by and now your 2h is in Cancer in your progressed chart. You’re still a writer because that’s still your natal placement, but now you want shift things up so instead of working for a company, you work from home (Cancer 2h)writing from a blog/website you created, something like Patreon. Instead of the regular 9-5, you make your own money but still doing what you original love which is writing. Now let’s say you want to know how your upcoming year financial will be. So you see you have an Aquarius 2h in your solar return chart which is perfect if you have an internet type of job that you’re trying to grow. Aquarius rules online and groups of people so your subscribers may grow that year which means more money.

Now planets in the 2h, and aspects if you have planets in the 2h influence this as well. Like if you have Aquarius moon in the 2h, you may feel alienated from you family during this time because you’re so focused on your blog. Your subscribers may start to feel more like family to you etc.

I know that was a long example but I want you all to really understand how to interpret this in your own lives and charts. I have Virgo 3h so I’m all about the details 🤪

Now that we got what kind of charts to look for and how to interpret them, let’s discuss what to actually look for in these charts!

1. The 2nd House + Planets in the 2h(if you have any), if not look for the 2h ruler + planetary degrees and house degrees (if your using Placidus house system)

-the 2h rules over physical money in general so this is is where you first look to get an idea to see what you can do to make it. This house is where you will start to build your wealth. 2h also rules over our values and assets. How you value and see money based on your upbringing can be seen here as well.

2. The House where Taurus rules in your charts

-Taurus rules the 2h naturally so wherever it rules in your charts, that’s an area where you can make money from as well.

3. Your Venus sign + degree + house placement + aspects to Venus

-Venus rules over money because it rules over Taurus. So even if you don’t know what to do by just looking at your 2h or Taurus house, look at your Venus placement

4. The 8th house. Use the same process for this house as you did the the 2h.

-the 8h is the opposite of the 2h. The 2h is physical money but the 8h is the power of money. It’s how you use your money in your life. 8h also rules other people money such as your partner. You can gain money through inheritance, you can have lots of debts too. 8h rules over loans as well.

5. Scorpio. Use the same process as Venus

-Scorpio is ruled by modern ruler Pluto and traditional ruler Mars. Pluto means “wealth” . I personally think it shows the power of wealth. Mars rules over action, Passionate and drive. You can make money and build wealth by using your Scorpio placements and house. What are you passionate about, what the thing that lights your soul on fire? That’s what you can make money from. Scorpio rules over alchemy, you can turn your passion into a goldmine. Money can change and end lives which is very Scorpio energy

6. 11th house

-not many people talk about the 11th house when it comes to money but it does play a role. It rules over “collected wealth” because it’s what you’ve been saving during your working career years. Using derivative houses (counting the houses) STARTING from the 10th house, it’s 2 spaces away from the 11h. So 10, 11=2 because we only counted 2 spaces over. The 2 represents the 2h.

If you’re confused about the derivative house method, go to my pinned post and scroll to learning tools and scroll down to derivative astrology post to get a better idea.

-The 11h also rules over connections and networking. You can literally make money based off of who you know and who knows you.

7. The house Aquarius sits

-like I said above, Aquarius rules over groups of people and networking. We are in a digital age now so making money off the internet is easy to do now compared to 20 years ago when technology was just coming up. Social media influencer is an actual career now that comes with lots privileges if you stick with it and meet the right people. Also look and see where Uranus and Saturn sits because aqua is ruled by both of these planets.

Thank you all for reading and if you need a birth chart, I’m open to help ya! Look at my pinned post for more details

#astrology #astrology community #knowledge #love astrology #astro observations #advanced astrology #birth chart #money #money in astrology

188 notes · View notes

brayneworms · 7 months

Text

cold as ice, baby | hinata hajime

kinktober day one: fingering

word count. 2.9k

content. MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI, trans!hinata, gender neutral reader, fingering, established but new relationship, kissing, no real power dynamics but hinata likes being in control, biting, reader doesn't get touched but it's implied at the end

♪ freak - lana del rey.

kinktober mlist | regular mlist

Some days, Hajime's self-loathing is no joke.

It feels like the heat in Jabberwock intensifies it sometimes. Sort of... bastes it. Like it's cooking in its own filthy greasy residue and making him feel all oily and gross and hot. So, so hot. Under that stupid sun he cooks, and he sweats, and he feels like they can all smell it on him.

Probably not though. He showers every day, and nobody gets close enough to try.

It makes him feel a little sick, is all. How much he wants you sometimes. He feels gross, barely a step above Hanamura or maybe worse. He feels like he should go to jail sometimes for the way he ogles you. It's a hot island, so sometimes you have so much skin out, shoulders and legs, gleaming from sunblock lotion, slightly tacky from the whitish paste. Or the sea salt in your hair, or the chapstick you'd loaned from Saionji on your lips, apple and cinnamon. Or the swimsuits. Hajime's mouth goes dry.

He does not want to think about you in swimwear. Because then he's not going to stop thinking about you in swimwear, and it'll lead somewhere bad, which is the whole fucking issue, really.

You're so new, the both of you. He's liked you for ages, but you've only been official for a month or so. He can't just pounce on you like a starving lion. Even though he wants to. Even though he really, really wants to.

He watches you sit cross-legged with Tanaka to feed his hamsters, or get a piggyback from Owari with her strong hands on your thighs, or sit down and braid Ibuki's hair into loving little plaits, your fingers skating over the pale skin of her neck and scalp.

And it does something to him. He imagines your hands, smoothing down the tawny skin of his arms, his waist, encircling his ankles, gripping his throat, buried in his hair. He looks at your fingers and imagines them balling up the stupid standard-issue bedsheets underneath you. He sees you stretch out your legs and sees them bent in half, over his shoulders, around his waist like a vice, your pretty eyes clenched shut, your pretty mouth hung open.

Heat pools in the pit of his stomach.

Avoiding you and taking a lot of cold—unforgivingly cold—showers makes for a good temporary solution, but oh look, hasn't he just shot himself in the foot and scored a home goal with it? Because it just means you come knocking on his cabin door looking for answers.

At night.

When everyone's asleep, and you're alone, and he's only wearing his boxers because of this stupid perpetual heat.

"Have I done something wrong?" you ask, your voice all small and hurt, and Hajime wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

"No! Nonono," he blurts out in a panic, and he steps aside to let you in like a moron, like the idiot he so clearly is. It's not the first time you've been in his cabin, obviously, but it's night and you look all soft and vulnerable and he thinks you're freshly showered because he can smell the coconut bodywash you like to use.

But then reality breaks through because you look—honestly hurt, crossing your arms and shifting your weight from foot to foot, avoiding his eye, and then Hajime mostly just feels like a huge piece of shit.

"I'm sorry," he sighs, and pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes in a gesture of weariness. "It's—it really isn't anything you, uh, did. It's me. I'm just... weird."

"Weird about what?" you press, stepping forward. "C'mon, you can tell me. Whatever it is, we can just... talk it out."

You're so sweet. "It's—uh, honestly, it's just kinda really embarrassing. And stupid. And... weird. And I really don't wanna weird you out, or like, make you think I'm... something I'm not, 'cause I'm not, like, the thing that you're gonna think I am but I just—"

"Hajime." Your hands on his shoulders, clamping down. The warm soft skin dimples between your fingers. Hajime's voice dies in his throat. He stares on, cheeks cherry-red, entirely too hot, sweat collecting unpleasantly on the nape of his neck. "I can guarantee nothing you tell me is going to freak me out, or whatever it is you're scared of. And I can see it's clearly... weighing down on you."

You're so nice. Weighing down on you is such a nice choice of words. In reality he probably looks constipated from stress.

"It's just—" His tongue flicks out nervously to wet his lips, and your eyes absently flit down to track the movement, oh fuck, "It's just..." Bad idea bad idea bad idea. "I kind of... I don't want to come on too strong and... scare you off."

Your brow knits; he thinks he sees some sort of understanding fall into place behind your eyes, but it's kind of distant. "Come on too strong how?"

His blush spreads from his cheeks to the tip of his ears, down his neck. "I... ahaha..." The nervous breathless stupid laugh he gives makes him want to strangle himself. "Y-you know. When I'm around you, I..." He swallows hard. "It—I can't help but think about... stuff I shouldn't."

He sees the moment it clicks into place for you; the slight widening of your eyes, the parting of your lips. "A-ah."

Mortification floods him like a tsunami. "Sorry! Fuck, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I never should've—" He's burning alive, he's actually baking like one of Hanamaru's luxury strips of meat that he slowcooks in the oven for hours on end so the whole hotel building ends up stinking of fucking, chicken and stock and rosemary all day—

"Hajime, hey." Your hands squeeze on his shoulders. "Just—breathe for a sec, please, you're freaking me out but not for the reasons you think you are."

Hajime gulps, eyes you nervously, and takes in a few desperate pulls of air. He feels small, like he's actively shrinking.

"First of all. It's not... like, weird, you know, to f-feel that kind of stuff in general," you say, incredibly haltingly like it's very awkward for you. "But it's even less weird when you're actually, you know, in a relationship, and I—I don't want you to feel weird about this, that's all, or about telling me when you're—you know. Because I'd be down. I mean, to help. Assuming that's what you want, I mean."

Hajime stares at you. His brain abruptly throws up its hands, bluescreens, and goes for a smoke break.

"Wha—wha?" he says intelligently. You smile fondly, the kind of smile that reminds Hajime why he fell in love with you in the first place.

"Do you want me to help you out?" you repeat, very clearly, and Hajime buries his face in his hands. Heat shoots through him like liquid lightning, illuminating every pore of his body. He can feel it gather between his legs.

"You don't have to," he mutters, heart thumping against his ribcage.

"Hajime," you say pleasantly. "D'you think you're the only one who's had to hold themselves back?"

It's pure, unadulterated shock that makes him lift his face out his hands to gawp at you, but the moment he does you cup his face with both of your hands and kiss him. He wonders if you can feel the heat of his burning skin on your palms, whether you care, and then your tongue is in his mouth and he stops wondering anything at all. He groans softly against your lips, and finally his useless hands move and he's grabbing, curling a fistful of your shirt in one hand and cupping the back of your neck with the other. He feels like he's been depriving himself of you for so long, and for fucking what? You feel incredible.

He walks you backwards until your knees his the frame of his bed and you're unseated with an undignified yelp. You bounce on the mattress, peering up at him. Hajime swallows hard. "Is this... okay? We don't have to—anything you want, God, anything—"

You put two hands on his waist, just above the waistline of his boxers, and Hajime stammers to a halt. He gazes at you, wide-eyed, brilliantly red. You press your lips to the skin just under his navel and his stomach sort of convulses at the sensitivity, and you keep going, down the trail of hair that disappears behind the waistband of his underwear, kissing over the fabric until you get to—

Hajime jolts and swears. His hands clench reflexively into fists at his side. "Lay down," he bursts out, and then flushes deeper. "Uh... please. If you want to. I—"

You giggle and pry your hands off him, leaving him feeling colder than ever. Hajime watches, mouth dry as you drape yourself lazily over his bed. Your sleep short ride up your thighs, the collar of your shirt dips down, and all the skin is making his head dizzy. He clambers over you a little clumsily, hitting your knee with his with a thud that makes you wince.

"Sorry!" he panicks, hands fluttering nervously over your leg. "Sorry, did that—that was an accident, I—"

"It's okay, it's okay," you laugh, the back of your hand covering your mouth. "Jeez, Hajime. Relax a little maybe."

His flush must be crawling down his chest at this point. "Yeah. Maybe." He glances around. "Kind of hard."

"Is it?" you ask with a pointed glance at his boxers. He groans, but the levity is extremely welcome, makes him feel less anxious. Reminds him it's just you, and you would never seriously laugh at him. Reminds him that he's safe.

"Is it okay if I'm—I mean." He wipes his clammy palms surreptitiously over his thighs. "I feel better when I'm more... in control. Y'know?"

You smile up at him. "That's fine with me. Are you going to boss me around now?"

Hajime laughs feebly, glancing away. He thinks it's a reasonable pretense that the idea doesn't make him ten times wetter.

He kneels between your legs and kisses you. You're so soft, skin warm and pliant and fresh from the shower. He can't hold back a moan when your tongue slips against his, and when your hand slides over his waist again, the pinky finger of your hand grazing the band of his underwear, he finally plucks up the courage to grab your wrist and drag it.

He lets out a choked sound into your mouth as your pliant hand slides between his legs. Pulling back from the kiss, panting hotly against your mouth. "Okay?" he asks hoarsely. "Please, oh my god, I need... only if you want, only if you want to..."

Your hand twitches to life inside the tight grip of his fist, and you skim your fingers over the wet spot of the fabric of his underwear.

Hajime shudders, dropping his head into the crook of your shoulder. "Ah... oh, fuck..." His shaking hand drops your wrist, reprimanding himself fiercely for maybe grabbing you too hard, but you didn't say anything, but he shouldn't just grab you and lead you like you're cattle, he opens his mouth to apologise when you cup his cunt through his boxers and he loses the ability to do anything at all. Anything other than moan into your skin, starting to get salty from the heat and the proximity, and he goes delirious with the idea that he's ruining you a little. Like you've just showered, you'd scrubbed your body all over with lovely scented soap and he's going to undo it methodically, deliberately, and you're going to let him, when it's all over you're going to smell like sweat and him and you'll have to clean all over again.

It's an intoxicating thought, the idea that someone as soft as you would let someone like him mess you up.

Your hand slips under the waistband of his underwear, follows the trail of hair down and finding him soft and hot and dripping wet. Hajime curses as your fingers skate almost curiously over his clit, his folds.

"Oh shit," you curse, mumbling almost more to yourself. "Y-you're so wet."

He makes a high, embarrassed noise in the back of his throat, eyes clenched shut, and his hips rock up into your hand in a gesture that feels inherently needy.

Despite his grossly obvious urgency, you take the time to bring your fingers back to your mouth and press them inside. Hajime watches, slack-jawed, pupils blown. When you take your fingers out, they're gleaming wet, and you grin at him. "You taste amazing."

Hajime is assaulted with all new images; your head between his legs, his hand on the top of your hair or tangled in your hair. Your tongue, soft and skilled against him, dripping spit and cum onto the carpet, and he has to stuff his knuckles in his mouth to stop himself moaning out loud. Sweat drips off his forehead and lands on your chest.

"Y/n," he croaks. "I'm gonna lose my mind."

You smile almost shyly, as if you didn't just have your fingers in your mouth right in front of him. "O-okay. Okay. Just, um... okay, I got it."

Hajime swallows hard. "Y-you're still sure?"

"I'm so sure," you tell him earnestly. And with that your hand glides down, over his collarbones, the twin scars arching beneath his breastbone, down his tense stomach and under his boxers again. This time, your fingers move with purpose. They roll over his clit and down the centre of his folds, parting them, dipping inside just slightly before coming back up. He feels a shivering mix of pain and pleasure as two of your fingers circle his clit, an indication that he's almost too sensitive; he feels like he's on fire, like forks of lightning are emanating from the vertice between his legs, and he lets out choked, high noises against your throat.

Mindlessly, it seems, his hips roll against your head, seeking something more. You take the initiative to prod with one finger, dipping lower from the other before teasing at his entrance. His thighs shake and part slightly for you, and you slip inside without another word.

The breach feels like breathing for the first time; he's so wet and so sensitive that you slide inside with barely a hint of pain, easing in up to the first knuckle.

"Ohhh god," he groans, feeling mindless, feeling weightless. "Ohgodohgodohgod..."

"What should I—"

"More," he nearly begs. "I want you inside."

The word should be embarrassing, but they just aren't. Not in front of you. You get your finger in slowly, inch by inch until your knuckles press up against him and he's clenching the sheets with his free hands.

He almost convulses when your finger curls up like it's searching for something; it presses against a spongey spot inside him and he whines from somewhere deep in his chest, and he hears you swear to yourself as you start moving in and out.

"Nngh, oh—hah..."

Oh he's gonna die. Your fingers are inside him. He's gonna fuckin' die—

One turns to two turns to three, your thumb rolling constant circles over his clit, sometimes catching so sensitively that he has to bite back whimpers. There's the stretch and the burn but even that is okay, feels good after a few moments. He feels distantly really bad that he's not touching you, but he will after, fucking hell he will after, whatever you want him to, he'd kiss the fuckin' ground you walk on for making him feel so good right now. All too soon he feels the familiar tightening in his stomach like a band.

"H-hey," he gasps out. "I think I—I'm c-close, so..."

"O-oh," you say, sounding equally breathless. "It's okay."

Your fingers push up into him, curling almost viciously into that spot inside him just as your other hand taps his jaw and guides his face to yours for a kiss. It's barely more than panting against each other's lips as your thumb presses down hard on his clit.

"Fuck, fuck," he cries. "Fuck, you're so fuckin'—so perfect—'m cumming, shit—"

He sobs out as he cums, alight from the inside out, shaking like he's just been hit by lightning. The pressure is so much that he needs an outlet, his finges pressing bruising marks into your hip and thigh, and he turns his head and bites down almost feverishly on your collarbone.

You tap his arm with a yelp, fingers jerking inside him as he starts to come down. He can feel his release dripping down his inner thighs and he lifts his head groggily.

"Shit," he mumbles eloquently, staring at the teeth mark on your skin. He didn't break skin, thank fuck, but he still feels mortified. "Sorry. Oh my god, sorry. That was—that was a total accident, I..."

"Ah, it—it's okay." You swallow hard. "Was that..."

Hajime shakes his head dazedly. "Amazing," he croaks. "Y-you're amazing." He gets the werewithal to roll off you with his shaking limbs so his weight isn't pushing into you anymore.

You let out a long, slow breath. "Was pretty amazing for me too."

Hajime glances at you with a trickle of amusememt. "Not yet it wasn't."

Your brow scrunches in confusion—but realisation dawns when you feel his hand slide up your thigh. In his eyes is a question, one that you nod hastily to. Hajime grins weakly.

"Good," he breathes. "As soon as I get my breath back, it's your turn." And it sounds like the sweetest thing ever when he adds, a moment later with a twist of that characteristic cockiness that leaps out at the most inopportune of moments: "I can't wait to see how pretty you're gonna look when I make you cum."

#🫀.scribes #danganronpa smut #sdr2 smut #hajime hinata smut #hajime hinata x reader #danganronpa x reader #sdr2 x reader #hajime smut #hinata smut #sdr2 oneshot #danganronpa oneshot #kinktober 2023

206 notes · View notes

lovethetasteofnothing · 7 months

Note

Hi I seen ur requests are open so I wondering if you could possibly write sugar mommy hcs for Farah and/or valeria plz!😋

this is so good I just had to do it asap. i need drabbles for this too

Sugar mommy dynamics (HCs) - Valeria, Farah, Laswell

includes: kate laswell, farah karim, valeria garza (this is for the gay girls)

fem!reader, female anatomy, fem terms of endearment

warnings: nsfw content, dirty talk, spanking, use of straps/toys, fingering, degradation, consumption of alcohol,

word count: 1.8k, aprox. 600 words/ character

Valeria Garza (smut + fluff)

sugar mommy supreme

this woman is richer than god and her love language is gift giving

i don't see a better combo for a sugar baby

and she's a busy woman, she doesn't have time for relationships so this is right up her alley

i feel like it happened a little more or less by chance

like she was just talking about it one day to one of her men or he overheard her

and he subtly mentioned you because you were actively looking for a sugar mommy

neither of you knew what to expect at first, but after meeting her...

you went home and masturbated to a scenario about her

you were both on board with it being sexual from the get go so that worked out

makes you update a wishlist regularly and buys everything you put on it

sometimes you'd put an item there at night and wake up with the package at your door the next day

her card? black like her soul

and she just handed it to you one day like?

made you do a little runway show with all of the stuff you got with it

goes shopping with you to de-stress

she likes it more than you do, like this woman is making you try everything in the store if she wants to

makes you twirl so she can see the full outfit before smirking and nodding approvingly

holds the clothes for you while you're inside the store so you can browse easily

her guard carries the bags afterwards

this woman buys you designer on the regular

even though she doesn't wear it herself because it gets ruined on the job, she loves it on you

she took you to a fancy dinner with her business partners once

put you in a dress that costs more than your whole apartment (and a set of really nice lingerie underneath)

she made you cum all over the expensive fabric, squirming while she fingered you in the backseat of her car

"you're being so filthy, muñequita. por Dios, you even ruined your dress"

spanked you for being so "inconsiderate" even though it was her fault that you had a pool of cum dripping down your thighs

talking about spanking, she definitely spanks you with designer belts

like this woman does not care how much it costs

that piece of leather can pay off your rent for months

she'd probably pay off your student loans/ pay in advance for your rent and utilities

gives you a weekly allowance, sometimes buys you extra stuff if you've been good

her favorite thing to buy for you? lingerie and sex toys

makes you send her videos of you wearing them/using them on yourself

talking about texting, I think she'd leave you be most of the time since she's so busy

also enjoys the fact that you're a bare minimum engagement type of deal

she's just happy someone isn't pestering her 24/7, while she gets the advantages of making a girl squirt happy

she's constantly traveling and you don't see her for weeks sometimes

you asked her what she does because you got curious

"don't worry your pretty little head with useless details, cariño"

but she expects you to show up when she tells you to

on time, god forbid you're late

she had to wait for five minutes, you had to listen to her complain for hours

while her favorite strap stretched you out so good

makes you apologize and beg for forgiveness, promise you won't be late again

while bullying her strap into your already sensitive pussy, crying from the overstimulation as you whimper out promises and pathetic 'sorrys'

Farah Karim (fluff, i love Farah fluff okay?)

you still don't understand how it happened

like one day she was the cute regular customer at the coffee shop you worked at

and the next she was taking care of your rent and restocking your fridge

she just wanted to help you out since she had more than enough for herself

you didn't expect her to be that rich? because when she was a customer she was always dressed normal

don't get me wrong, she looked bomb, but she never gave off that 'i'm rich, look at me' energy

and she still doesn't, literally buys you the cutest stuff out of the kindness of her heart

keeps it casual, doesn't expect you to pay her back in any way

she can't help but smile when you kiss her cheek as a thank you after she hands you your allowance

doesn't want to pressure you into anything, she just likes the idea of taking care of someone

doordashes groceries for you because she knows you're too lazy to do them yourself

checks up on you every once in a while, mostly asks you to come over to keep her company and just chat

but you were renovating your apartament for a few days and you decided to stay with her

made sure you were nice and comfortable in the guest room and got everything you needed

also made sure to leave a few little gifts on your bed on your first day

got you some books and your favorite treats to keep you company while she's gone to work

and you realized you actually liked spending time with her and that her attention made you happy

so when she got home from work, two days before you were meant to leave you decided to speed things up a little

so surprised when you straddled her lap while she was talking

she thought you felt pressured to do it

she tried to start one of her monologues before you stopped her

you got so bold??? like just telling her you like her and it's not because she practically is your main source of income but because she's so nice as a person

baby got so touched she had to go smoke a cig to calm down

and now she's your girlfriend and sugar mommy

weekly dates (as long as she's not gone with work, makes up for it when she's back tho) to your favorite restaurants/locations in general

hates physical shopping but will power through for you

grabs whatever she thinks you'd look cute in and makes you try it

you got so so flustered when she gave you a revealing outfit to try on

she had already bought it in her head before you even tried it on

also loves to spoil you with little things

like getting you gorgeous flowers every week, making sure they're replaced before they wilt

ordering your favorite food for you when she works long nights

buying you the nicest skincare/makeup because she sees how your face lights up from it

i feel like she'd always bring a trinket home (uhaul lesbian things)

something that melts your heart too because she really pays attention to everything you say

like getting a box of pastries from that really luxurious bakery that's close to her office

buying you a new pair of sneakers because they match the outfit she got you last week

literally bought you a stunning outfit for your one year anniversary

dress, heels, jewelery everything designer because fuck it she loves spoiling you rotten

money comes on her card and leaves it, but you're a forever type of investment

Kate Laswell (fluff + smut)

canon mommy

also a sugar baby's dream

she paid for your drink (TF 141 went wild when they saw her)

so she pulled you to the side and paid for the rest of your consumption too and for your taxi back home

a bit sad when you told her you weren't looking for a relationship

so she did what's best and spoke to your capitalism rotten brain and asked to be your sugar mommy

you had shit to pay off okay? and she was hot and spoke to your mommy issues...

takes it slow until she doesn't anymore (with consent ofc!)

when she asked you to hang out at her place and drink some wine, you didn't think anything of it

that was until you were bent over the couch, hands pinned down as she scissored your pussy open

made a little bet with you, every minute you could last without having an orgasm, she'd give you your allowance's worth in cold hard cash

you were cocky until she stuck that fucking vibrator inside of you

she pushed it in so deep and made sure it was hitting that sweet spot that made your whole body weak

didn't even need to wait too long before you squirted on her expensive couch

you didn't get a lot of money that night....

and you lost some of your dignity too

made sure to send over a bouquet of flowers to your workplace to remind you of how expensive house cleaning got these days

so fucking cocky and flirty when she feels like it

but also a sweetheart

would regularly ask you if you were doing well and eating properly

has food delivered to your door everyday so she knows you have a balanced diet

makes you take so many days off from work until you just decide to quit

she's way too happy knowing that you're now so much more available for her use

entertains the idea of being your only source of income for a bit

"you can just relax, take it easy. i'll take care of things for you"

busy woman no. 2

but she'd never forget to take you out on a fancy date somewhere really expensive to remind you how nice she treats you

made sure you had everything you'd ever need and then fed into your little whims and fantasies

doesn't have enough time to spare for you to show her what you got but she'd be happy inside knowing you were entertained and pleased

offers to send you on your dream vacation since she can't go

you beg her for so long until she finds a way to take a short break and enjoy her time with you there

this woman is literally working in the hotel while you go out shopping

you give her a nice massage after she finishes most of it because she deserves it <3

gets room service the next day for the both of you and spends the rest of the day cuddling you and visiting places

she definitely didn't develop feelings and neither did you, no not at all

she's upfront about it because really, what's the point?

she's too old to play the whole 'chase' thing

so while you're enjoying the jacuzzi in your room and sipping on some wine, she decides that's the best moment

you nearly choke on the wine

but she looks so...<3 and you know she'd treat you so well...

173 notes · View notes