#full-time caretakers at home
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healkinhealthcare · 10 months ago
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How Healkin’s Full-Time Caretakers At Home Are Transforming Home-Based Care
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Healkin’s caregivers transform home-based caregiving into an empathetic, compassionate service of devotion to our patients. They bring positivity to the residence that they live in and build a strong rapport with the patient and their families. They are sensitive to the patients and their families' requirements and preferences.
The Role Of A Healkin Patient Care Taker Services In Mumbai
Caregivers play a critical role in the life of a patient. They act as a bridge between the patient and the outside world. They are there solely to care for the patient with empathy and compassion. Loneliness and isolation can escalate health problems. Caregivers attend to physical needs and provide companionship by engaging the patient in enthusiastic conversations, engaging them in their favourite activities, and offering a sense of connection.
Our caregivers perform the following responsibilities
Physical Care 
Give medicines as per the instructions of a family member or nurse 
Provide Emotional Support & Companionship 
Help the patients stick to their exercise schedule
What sets Healkin’s Caregiver apart?
Continuous Training and Education
Our full-time caretakers at home undergo rigorous training and are periodically reassessed per company policy. This ensures that our clients get the best experience possible. They are imbibed with the qualities of empathy, compassion, sensitivity and dedication to their service.
Transparent Communication
Our caregivers are trained to understand that effective communication is a keystone of successful caregiving. Our caregivers maintain transparent and open communication channels with our senior nursing team and the patient’s families. They look upon feedback as a chance for improvement. 
Family Involvement
Healkin and our caregivers understand the importance of family involvement in our patients' caregiving process. Our caregivers are trained to be sensitive to the family’s dignity, preferences and requirements. We have systems to ensure that the family’s needs are met holistically.
Our caregivers are the heart of our mission to support and make individuals thrive in their residences. We celebrate their dedication to our patients every single day. You can learn more about our caregiver services here.
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miamignonette · 11 months ago
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i love my grandmother so much but my patience for her is wearing veeeeeeery thin
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Do You Need Best Home Nursing Services In Delhi?
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When someone in our home is sick or has come out of the difficulties of any kind of operation or the medical condition of an elderly person in our home is not getting better, then to take care of them, you want the Best Home Nursing Services in Delhi which will be available along with the best home patient care services in Delhi. Delhi is famous for Nurse at Home services, services will be made available for every kind of work here. Whether it is normal patient care which can be done by Home Attendant Services, or the patient has a serious condition for which Nursing Care Service at Home in Delhi is always available for patient care.
Why Do Patients Actually Need In-Home Nursing Services Delhi?
One of the key advantages of Home Nursing Services in Delhi is the continuity of care they provide. Patients receive consistent, one-on-one attention from nurses at home who are familiar with their medical history, preferences, and personal circumstances. This level of personalised care can greatly enhance the healing process, improve quality of life, and reduce the risk of complications or hospital re-admissions and recover fast at home.
Personalized Care: Home Nursing Services provide to each patient specific needs which are not available in Hospitals. Nursing care at home gives individual attention to patients, helping them recover from injury very fast.
Comfort of Home: Patients recover faster and better than hospitals in familiar surroundings of their own homes. When a family is close to a patient, They feel better.
Cost Effective: Home Nursing Services In Delhi can be more affordable than hospitals without compromising the quality of care.
Convenience: When family members can stay close to the patient then the patient, elders feel better because they provide emotional support and participate in the care process.
Work of Nurse for home patient
Temperature/Pulse/Respiration/Blood pressure/Spot monitoring
Offering urinal pan, Urine bag emptying, Care of Urobag.
Enema administration, Bladder wash, Bladder irrigation, condom Bladder irrigation, condom catheterization, Foley's catheterization male, Foley's Catheterization-Female
Helping in oral feeding, RT placement RT placement, RT feeding & management, Jejunostomy care PEG tube feeding & management, TPN administration
Assist in position change, assistance walking, wheelchair mobilization, simple daily exercises, range of motion exercises, spirometry
Assistance in reading, spiritual support, engagement activities
Oxygen Therapy
Oral medicines
Medical Administration - Topical (Ointment), Eye drops installation, SC (Insulin administration), Insertion of Suppositories, IV injection, IM injection, IV Fluids administration, Assist in major wound dressing, IV cannulation, ECG taking
Conclusion
Before Choosing the right Home Nursing Service in Delhi, think very carefully because the best service can significantly impact the recovery and quality of life of your loved ones. When You search on google "Home Nursing Services Near Me" or "Best Home Nursing Services In Delhi" you will find options like Careoxy Healthcare, Portea Medical, Medfind, Apollo Homecare, and Nightingales, you can find reliable and professional care tailored to meet your specific needs in Delhi. Always ensure to do thorough research and consider all factors before making a decision to ensure the best care for your loved ones. 
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fr0stbearer · 11 months ago
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not used to going to the kitchen to get a glass of water like i would always have my water bottle near my bed but i'm staying in a different house for a while ...and there are dogs that will bark on any person they see so i remain thirsty this entire night 😂😂😂
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luna-azzurra · 2 months ago
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Grumpy & Sunshine Prompts #2
He often mutters, "I don’t get why you like me," and she just grins and says, “Because you’re you.”
They’re stuck on a road trip, and she’s singing her heart out, while he pretends to hate it, but when she falls asleep, he quietly turns her playlist back on.
She gets sick, and he suddenly goes full caretaker mode, wrapping her in blankets and grumbling, “Don’t make this a habit.” She laughs and says, “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said.”
He hates celebrating his birthday, but she throws a surprise party. At first, he’s grumpy about it, but seeing how much effort she put into it, he can’t stay mad.
She comes home upset, and he awkwardly bakes cookies to cheer her up, mumbling, "I don’t know how to do this comforting thing." She appreciates it anyway.
He hates parties but goes to one because she asks. He spends the whole night making sure she’s having fun, even though he complains the entire time.
She’s quiet for once, and he notices immediately. "What, you don’t like it when I’m the only one grumpy?" he teases, trying to cheer her up.
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secretcoralgarden · 2 months ago
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Once upon a Dream || Yan GB Sleeping Beauty x GN Reader
Characters: Rory
Summary: A cursed prince with no social know how
Warnings: Yandere themes, possessiveness
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦
Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who first met you when the King and Queen were celebrating his birth. A christening. You were very young, but you barely remember it in your current days. You do, however, remember the Dark Fairy Queen that had placed a curse onto this enchanting newborn as revenge against the King who had wronged her.
Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who ends up being kept away in a hidden cottage in the forest with the three good fairies as his protectors. All throughout his life, he grew up without knowing of his royal prestige. He found great comfort in the forest and the little critters within it. He did wander quite a lot when he had finished his chores.
Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who grows up beautifully and full of kindness for everyone and everything around him. He has an ethereal aura around him, and he handles everything with great care. It would make anyone who saw swoon. However, he has a lack of social interaction due to living deep in the woods and the only people around him are his caretakers.
Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who memorizes the forest from just exploring in his free time. He knows where the best berries, fruit, and wild vegetables are. Along with the best wild flowers grow. It was an average day when he found a scared, lost horse with a saddle on it. He approached the horse with a calm, steady hand in front of him. He placed the hand on the horse's face and tried his best to soothe it.
Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who follows the now calmed horse to a clear field of grass and wild flowers. There was also a clear view of the castle that was in the distance. His “aunties” had told him stories about the castle and the King. They also told him stories about the villages that surrounded the kingdom. He was so caught up in watching the castle, he didn't hear or notice the rustling behind him.
Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who becomes startled when he sees you running toward the horse. You looked soaked, and your clothes stuck to your skin in all the right places. He was flustered by not another human in the forest, but by the fact that you looked so enchanting. He remained silent as he watched you fuss over your horse. The care for your animal is very clear to him.
Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who is brought out of his trance when you walk up to him with your horse following you. You were so sweet when you thanked him for watching your horse as well as calming the horse down. You go on to explain you were bucked off your horse because they were spooked. Your voice when you spoke to him was so soft. His heart was fluttering. He wanted you to stay so he could hear your voice more and to befriend you.
Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who finds himself missing you over the next few days. Even when he's asleep he has dreams of you, as if he has met you some time before. There was so much longing in his heart. This is so different for him. He was acting so much out of character that even his “aunties” took notice. Rory would go out for long hours and not come home till the sun had set. What was he doing? They were worried that the Dark Fairy Queen would find him, but they couldn't share their concerns with him.
Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who becomes so excited when he sees a familiar horse. He runs up to you, his face all aglow from excitement. He starts to gush about missing you. He doesn't know how to converse with another person, but he's trying. He's all blushy in front of you. He helps you off your horse with a gentle hand. Even touching you is awkward. He keeps a hold of your hand and drags you through the forest. He talks so much about his knowledge of the forest he's lived in all his life in hopes that you would be impressed.
Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who ends up ranting to you about his interests. He shares things he remembers from his childhood, funny stories that involved his “aunties”. He didn't know when or how to stop. He just spilled everything to you. But to his joy, you were listening with a smile. He wanted so badly for his “aunties” to meet you. However, whenever he seemed to bring up this enchanting stranger in conversations, they would show so much hesitance. It didn't matter anyway. He was happy to just spend time with you.
Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who asks you a bunch of questions about the village and the castle of the kingdom. You tell him the stories of a prince that was cursed when you were younger. You don't remember the name of the prince, but you're glad to share it as best as you remember. You also tell him that you're not from this kingdom but a different one. You entertain him with stories about your kingdom and what it was like. He is so happy to listen.
Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who becomes very upset when you disappear for a couple of months. He feels completely betrayed that he's left alone just to wait for you to come back. Well, hope for you to come back. His “aunties” share with him that you were most likely visiting from another kingdom. He cries and begs for you to come back. He was acting as if you died. Those were very long weeks for everyone within the cabin.
Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who has his animal friends of the forest help him feel better while you're away. This usually entailed dancing with Rory and listening to his fantasies about you. He also had an increase of dreams about you. They were usually the same thing. You would come find him and whisk him away to your kingdom where the two of you lived together and had a family of your own. He acted very much like a love sick fool. Sometimes the Dark Fairy Queen's crow would take notice when he was watching over the boy.
Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who is so happy when you come back to him after a few more months of your absence. You apologizes profusely about leaving so suddenly without giving him a goodbye. Rory was so grateful that you cared about his feelings this much. He forgives you with a tight hug. What shocked him the most was that his "aunties" were right. You were just visiting. But what made his mind explode the most was that you were visiting the King and Queen. He hoped that the prince you had told him about didn't take you from him.
Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who clings to you even more now that you're back. He gives you updates that he thought you would find important. Little things that happened in his daily life. He shared his overwhelming longing for you to come back and the dreams he had of you. It bothered him so much that you couldn't see him everyday. Like when you did when you were visiting. That's when his eyes lit up when an idea popped into his head.
Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who decides that he'll go with you the next time you leave to go home. He declares it out loud for all to hear within the forest. He doesn't give you any chance to argue. He runs immediately after his declaration to share his decision with his “aunties”. He skips to his secret cottage, not taking any notice of the pair of eyes with wings that follow him.
Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who becomes utterly distraught when his “aunties” deny him to let him leave. They were very adamant about not letting him leave with a stranger. They never met you and they couldn't take any chances. He becomes so upset that he runs out the cabin and declares that he would run away with you. He runs through the forest to try to find you.
Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who finds you in a secluded lake alone. You looked just as enchanting as he did when you two first met. You were watching the ducks swim around. You must have tried to find him, but got lost along the way. However, his eyes scan over you and his face falls. You were surrounded by crows. There was one large crow that was much bigger than the rest perched on your shoulder.
Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who can't help but find the scene unsettling. When all the crows turn to look at him his back shivers. You follow the crows' gazes to see your blonde haired friend standing not too far away. He fights against the unnerving feeling and runs to you. The crows let out a deathly caw as they're scared away into the tree tops. He throws his arms around you, hugging you as tight as possible. He sobs against your chest.
Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who startles you with his change of moods. He was just so happy moments ago and ow he's this sobbing mess that has a deathly grip on your body. He was so cheery and was planning to leave with you, even if you didn't agree. He hiccups between his words as he tries his best to explain to you how his “aunties” don't want him to leave with you. However, he twists the story to make it seem like his “aunties” were the villains. This was all in hopes of you agreeing with him. You don't though, and he hates you for it.
Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who sees you leave the forest once more. He hates how you have to go partake in some royal's birthday when his is tomorrow. Why couldn't you have stayed for him? As he watches, his eyes never leave your figure. Tears well, and he slowly makes his way back to the cabin with his “aunties”. There they tell him that he's actually a prince. The fairies tell him of his true past and the curse that was placed upon him. The more he's told the more his trust breaks. By nighttime, he's in a carriage to the castle.
Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who is embraced with open arms by his actual royal parents. He's pushed into his birthday party with such suddenness. Frazzled, he tries to go about interacting with others, but there are voices in the back of his head. Voices that lead him through the castle, ending up in a secluded room where one spinning wheel stands. He reaches for the spindle, pricking his finger on its sharpness. There his eternal slumber commences. When he is found by father, he shrieks and brings him back to his royal chambers. The three good fairies make everyone within the castle fall asleep alongside their prince before they rush out to go find you.
Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who is asleep all the while you fight for him. He's awake just from your touch on his hand. The amount of love he holds for you is immense. He doesn't care how long he was asleep. You're here, and you're the one who saved him. Everyone else has awoken, and they go through with the party in honor of the prince. Rory tells everyone there that you saved him. All the guests go about singing your praises.
Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who is finally happy. Back at home with his actual family, and he can be with the love of his life without worry. The transition from being in a cottage to being a prince has been hard. He doesn't understand how the nobles interactions go, but he has you to help guide him. While looking for you, however, he saw you in the royal garden in an all too familiar scene. You with crows all around you, and one large crow perched on your forearm.
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦
Property of @secretcoralgarden! Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!
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fluffairy · 2 years ago
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I just want to rest. why will no one let me rest!!!!!!!! 
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joltrify · 4 months ago
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experimentations ft. the Artpop queen herself
Silly little (not so little) unrelated HC I developed later under the cut
₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊
🎀- HC that EVE's most normal hobby - when not occupied with other things - is repainting dolls 🎀- Like in a blue moon you can catch her at the hobby lobby in mom jeans and a cardigan just looking for materials
★- In her down time (which is a bit rare these days) Nadia'll pick those ball-jointed Barbie/Bratz/MH dolls and give them a complete makeover ☆- While she's making them she's fervently thinking 'I will love you in a way that no one else EVER has' and she treats them all that way ★- She'll repaint them in the most unconventional ways possible but they're still gorgeous; a perfect reflection of her studio artwork on a body that isn't her own ☆- Sometimes if she's low on fabrics, instead of making a full-sized mockup of her exhibition fits she'll use her dolls to test the outfit design and make a mini version of the fit with small pieces of the final material ★- She's got this HUGE shelf on her pad that's got these fashion icon dolls displayed with their name and inspiration on a little plaque ☆- Whenever something significant happens and she doesn't want to paint, she'll hold onto the feeling, good or bad, and jot down an idea for a new doll's look ★- and she DOES truly love each of them - though she may have had to learn to love one in particular
🎀- She picked up the hobby in college (before she met Zuke) but didn't really think anything of it 🌸- It was just a means to practice different makeup looks and pencil techniques without sculpting something - and it was fun! She liked having a cute little gal at the end of the process 🎀- When she came up with the idea of using the dolls as models, she created a doll of herself but made the decision to make its skin completely white 🌸- When Nadia met Zuke, she sort of put the hobby aside to focus on her other art mediums, but she looked at the doll of herself and felt comfortable enough to repaint the right side pink (and she laughed a bit to herself looking at the final result, because it looked... Cute! Just like her other gorgeous dolls...) 🎀- After Rapturica, she didn't feel the need to create a doll based on her feelings as she didn't feel as hurt as she expected, but she did find it really, REALLY hard to look at the doll of herself, so she hid it away... 🎀- she picked up repainting again later but went in HARD - they began to look more artsy and alien, just like her other art pieces 🌸- After graduating she didn't really have time to repaint dolls and focused on creating other arts/music again, only occasionally using them to test outfits (but never the one of herself) 🎀- After the events of NSR though, she picked it up again as a form of self-care. It's something she doesn't have to create for the public eye, and she's rekindled the joy of creating a strange little gal and loving them despite their bizarre quirks. 🌸- ... I think she feels a bit more comfortable looking at the doll of herself now, too.
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★- She's probably still got doll repaint videos up on her channel from her college days, hehe. ☆- (She's debating whether or not to make a mini exhibition about the concept of dolls.* Likely not, as she doesn't want to taint the tranquility of the act, but she still likes the idea. It's better to not mix work art with home art, anyway.) (* (How they can reflect their caretaker, they exhibit both confidence and vulnerability, they can be broken and discarded but repaired, they're still images that can be moved in a 3d space however you desire, they rely on a person to actually be 'real' ykyk that kind of thing. the symbolism of dolls.)
The doodle I made in the 3rd picture (above the cut) is inspired by those really pretty doll repaints... I think that that look in particular is one that she tested on a doll first... pre-ugly cry, that is.
Thanks for reading my very silly idea... decorated the bullets with Bows and stars because I felt like it, haha. Have a lovely day~🌸
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itneverendshere · 4 months ago
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THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - seven (finale)
request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛" + "def some little smut during the enemies part and a long story"
word count: 6.3k
warnings: last chapter <3
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You’ve been to Kildare County Sheriff’s Department way more times than you care to admit
Being the oldest kid in your family—and somehow the only actual adult—you lost count of how many times you had to drag your dad out of jail between the ages of sixteen and twenty. It felt like a full-time job.
Then there were the countless times you’d been there for your friends. 
JJ, for instance, had been taken in more than once for public disturbances. It was almost a given that he'd end up in that shithole whenever there was a party or some kind of trouble brewing. You knew every officer by name, and they knew you too. Some gave you that look—you know, the one that said, “Oh, sweetie, you again?”—while others just shook their heads, probably wondering when you would finally stop playing caretaker and start looking out for yourself.
But you always showed up, no matter what, because that’s what you did. You took care of your own.
The first time you had to pick up your dad, you were sixteen. Brand new driver’s license, barely knew how to parallel park, and boom, you’re getting woken up at like 2 a.m. because your dad’s been arrested. You were shaking the whole time, gripping the steering wheel like your life depended on it, eyes blurry with tears. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen him wasted or bruised up, but this time felt different. This time, it hit you that this was gonna be your life now.
You were stuck.
You remember pulling up to the station, parking all kinds of crooked because your hands wouldn’t stop trembling. You ran inside, still half-asleep, and the officer at the desk gave you this sad little smile. “He’s in the back,” he said, like you didn’t already know.
When you saw your dad slumped over, bruised, and barely awake, something inside you just... cracked. He looked up, and for a second, he recognized you. “Hey, kiddo,” he mumbled, still drunk, still out of it. Back then, there was still some part of him left, some shred of the man he used to be.
You signed the papers, helped him stumble to the car, and drove home in silence while he passed out in the passenger seat. It was the first of so many nights like that. And you knew it wasn’t gonna be the last. When you finally pulled into the driveway, you helped him inside and onto the couch. He mumbled a thank you before passing out, his snores filling the room.
Now, sitting in the small, stuffy waiting room of the sheriff’s department, you glance around, feeling a knot of tension tightening in your stomach, the fluorescent lights doing little to help, making everything appear sterile and unforgiving.
You wish you could be anywhere but here.
JJ’s next to you, his leg bouncing like he’s got caffeine running through his veins instead of blood. You’re already annoyed, and it doesn’t help that Rafe is sitting on your other side, looking just as pissed off.
“Will you stop bouncing your leg JJ?” You grit out, already irritated from waiting longer than an hour.
“Why the fuck did he have to come?” JJ mutters, throwing daggers at Rafe with his eyes.
“JJ, not now.” You put your hand on his arm, trying to keep him from starting something. The last thing you need is another fight.
JJ glares, but his jaw clenches shut. “This is so messed up,” he grumbles.
“Messed up is leaving your sister alone with your drunk piece of shit father.”
“Like I knew he was there, you dumbass?” JJ shoots back, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Maybe stop leaving her alone.”
“Oh, here we go,” you mutter, feeling the tension rise again. The last thing you need right now is for these two to start another fight.
Ever since JJ came back to the mainland only to pick you up from Taneyhill, things had been…tense. It was one thing to talk about you and Rafe, it was a completely different thing to see you together.
You know your brother hates every second of it. 
“Oh, but you wanna talk about drunk pieces of shit? How many times did your daddy bail you out?” 
Rafe’s eyes narrow, his fists clenching, “How many times did you make your sister bail you out, huh?”
"You wanna talk about sisters too?"
You shut your eyes, attempting to ignore the way they’re clawing each other’s throats out with tainted insults. It was a miracle they're standing in the same room without killing each other, but you can only take so much. It’s like they’re about to throw punches, right there in the middle of the sheriff’s office.
"Shut the fuck up Maybank."
“Fuck you, Cameron!” JJ snaps, standing up so fast his chair skids backward, “You think you’re better than us?”
Rafe stands up too, stepping closer to JJ, “Better than you? Yes.”
“Don’t act like you’re doing this for her,” JJ scoffs. “You’ve never helped anyone but yourself, you manipulative asshole.”
“That’s enough,” you snap, standing up and stepping between them, pushing them apart. Your voice is shaking with frustration. “You two are going to shut the fuck up or take this shit outside. It’s nine in the morning. I didn’t get a wink of sleep, and I’m not gonna sit here and hear you two bitch it you.”  
JJ glares at Rafe over your shoulder. “We don’t need this asshole’s help. We can handle it ourselves.”
Rafe sneers. “Handle it? Like you’ve handled everything else?”
Your brother lunges forward, but you push him back, your voice shaking. “Sit your ass down or leave, I’m not going to repeat myself.”
They both just stare at you, their harsh words still hanging in the air of this stuffy room. The tension is almost suffocating, but there's no way you’re letting them keep tearing each other apart. You’re exhausted, emotionally and physically drained. The last thing you need right now is to play mediator between them… again.
Rafe finally sits down, arms crossed, biting his tongue—for your sake, you know. JJ’s sitting too now, still fidgeting like he always does, tapping his fingers against the armrest.
"Look," you say, your voice still firm, "We're here for a reason. Let's just get through this and get out, okay?"
Your brother just grunts, glaring at the wall like it’s personally offended him. Rafe lets out a sigh and gives you the tiniest nod, like a reluctant “fine.” You sit back down, feeling a bit of the weight in your chest ease up. Rafe leans in and gently takes your hand, mouthing, "I’m sorry." You give it a little squeeze—apology accepted, for now.
JJ notices but looks away too quickly for you to read him. You know he’s pissed, but at least for the moment, he’s staying quiet.
The minutes crawl by, each one feeling like forever, and finally, a cop shows up at the door, calling your name. The three of you stand up at the same time, and Rafe and JJ follow behind you, silent but close, as you walk down the hallway.
The clanging of barred doors shutting behind you makes your stomach twist, and you eventually end up in a small interrogation room. The officer gestures to a chair, "Take a seat." He heads off to get paperwork, and you glance at Rafe, who’s watching you like he’s afraid you might disappear. You know he won’t relax until your dad is completely out of the picture.
Your brother, on the other hand, leans against the wall with crossed arms, a brooding expression on his face. He's always been protective, even if his way of showing it often led to clashes with others. You wish things could be different.
Officer Malcom comes back with a stack of papers, but before you can even look at them, Rafe’s lawyer, Mr. Johnson, walks in. Rafe's had him on speed dial since the whole mess started, and honestly, he's been a lifesaver. He sits beside you, reviewing the papers calmly, and just having him there makes everything feel a little less scary.
“Alright, folks, let's go through this step by step. The first form here is the petition for a temporary restraining order. It outlines the incidents and reasons for seeking protection.”
“Are these incidents documented with the sherrif’s office?” Mr. Johnson's expertise is evident in the way he examines the document meticulously.
“Yes, sir. We have reports dating back to—" Officer Malcom stops for a second, checking the data, “About eight years ago, give or take.”
Rafe’s head snaps in your direction, brows furrowed, clearly pissed off that this has been going on for that long without anyone doing anything. You try to ignore it, focusing on the papers in front of you instead.
“What happens after I file this?
“Once filed, a judge will review the petition. If approved, a temporary restraining order will be issued, usually effective immediately. Then, there'll be a hearing within a few weeks to determine if a permanent order is necessary.”
“What if he doesn't abide by the temporary order?” 
The officer only nods sympathetically. “Violating a restraining order is a criminal offense. He could face fines, jail time, or both.”
Rafe’s still looking at you, “Does she have to serve him personally with these papers?”
“It’s crucial that he’s officially notified. We handle that part, though.”
Rafe’s lawyer is taking notes when he speaks up again, “If he contests the order, he’ll have the opportunity to present his side at the hearing. Both parties can bring witnesses or evidence. But based on your father’s behavior, that’s unlikely.”
You hope to God he doesn’t. The thought of seeing him again makes you feel like you might throw up. You take a deep breath, hands itching to twirl a piece of your hair.
“How long does the process usually take?”
You feel a hand touch your shoulder, gently tightening the grip around the skin, you don’t have to look back to know it’s Rafe. By now you know the lines and the ridges of his hands as if they are your own.
"The timeline can vary, but typically, from filing to the hearing, it might take a few weeks. It depends on the court's schedule and any potential delays."
You nod, absorbing the information while trying to steady your breathing. None of this feels real. Not the legal stuff, not the fact that this could actually be over soon. As the conversation continues, Mr. Johnson outlines the next steps clearly, discussing what will happen during and after the hearing. 
The officer quickly gathers the papers in his hands, “I’ll get everything started then. Just a moment.”
As he leaves to process the paperwork, a brief silence settles over the room. You exchange glances with JJ and Rafe, both of them entirely too interested of the concrete floor. 
“This is the right thing to do, right?”
You know it is. You’ve known for years, but it’s still hard to understand how it came to this. Your life could’ve been so different. 
JJ nods, fiddling with his shark tooth necklace, the one you’d given him when he was seven. “Yeah. He shouldn’t be able to just...” He trails off shaking his head.
Rafe squeezes your shoulder once more, then lowers himself to your level and plants a quick peck on your temple, “You’ve got this. It’ll be okay.”
Mr. Johnson finally puts his pen away, turning to you, “I’ll stay on top of the filings and keep you updated on any developments.”
This moment is a culmination of years of struggle. It's daunting, but you’re not alone. 
 "Thank you.”
JJ shifts his weight, his agitation visible. "I hate this," he mutters. 
"I know," you reply, not knowing what else to say.
The door swings open again, and Officer Malcom re-enters, holding a stack of papers. "Alright," he says, handing you a pen. "Just sign here, and we'll get this process started."
You take the pen with shaky hands, knowing there’s no going back after this. As you sign your name, you can't help but sigh in relief.
This is a step towards freedom.
Rafe watches you intently, his eyes full of concern. He reaches out, placing a hand on your back, a little reminder that he's here for you. JJ stands close by, his protective instincts on high alert.
After you finish signing, Officer Malcom takes the papers and gives you a reassuring nod. "We'll take care of the rest. You should hear from us soon about the next steps."
You stand up, feeling a little lighter, but the emotional toll of the day still kicks your ass. As you make your way out of the room, Rafe keeps a steady hand on your back, guiding you.
Once outside, the morning sun feels almost blinding after the harsh fluorescent lights of the station. JJ immediately lights a cigarette, taking a long drag and exhaling with a sigh. 
Rafe looks at you, his expression softening. "You're good?"
You nod, managing a small smile. "Yeah, I think so. Thank you for being here, both of you."
JJ smirks, though there's a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Where else would I be?”
You glance at the two men beside you, each representing a different part of your world. Your brother stubs out his cigarette, glancing over at Rafe with an exaggerated sigh. He smirks, but it doesn't reach his eyes.
“Gotta admit, I never thought I'd see the day when 'Rafe the Retch' would be helping us out.”
A laugh escapes your lips before you can stop it, but you quickly cover it up, turning it into a cough. You’d forgotten about that one.
Rafe’s eyebrows shoot up. “'Rafe the Retch'? Seriously, what the fuck?”
“Ask her,” JJ nods in your direction.
“You called me that shit?”
You bite your lip, “To be fair, I called you worse things.”
Rfe tilts his head, hands on his hips, “Like what?”
“You don’t want to know.”
The three of you start walking toward the parking lot, as you reach the cars, JJ pulls you into a quick, tight hug. “We’re gonna get through this,” he murmurs, his voice filled with determination. 
You hug him back, “I know, Jay.”
Rafe stands a few feet away, watching the exchange with a thoughtful expression. When your brother finally lets you go, he steps closer, “Ready to go?”
JJ looks at you, the concern in his eyes clear. "I gotta head to work. Do you want a ride home? It's on the way.”
You glance at Rafe, then back at JJ, sensing his reluctance. “No but thank you.”
JJ’s shoulders tense, but he nods, trying to hide his disappointment. "Alright. Just... call me if you need anything, okay?"
You smile, appreciating his concern. "I will. Drive safe."
He nods again, glancing one more time at Rafe before getting into his truck and driving off. You watch him go, knowing that things are still far from being okay between the two of you.
You know he’s never going to change his opinion about Rafe, maybe not until he witnesses the changes in him, but you hope that one day they’ll find some common ground. It’s a lot to ask from your brother, you know that, and it’s why you never push him. 
“You sure you’re doing okay?”
You nod, leaning into Rafe now that he stands behind you, “Yeah, just a little tired.”
He wraps an arm around your shoulders, guiding you towards his car, “Did you get any sleep last night?”
"Barely," you admit. "Just couldn't stop thinking about today.”
He unlocks the car, opening the passenger door for you. "Well, now that it's done, you can rest. I’ll even put that bullshit show you like.”
You gasp ready to punch him in the shoulder, but by the time you turn he’s already on the other side of the car, “Love Island is not a stupid show!”
He chuckles as he starts the engine. "If you say so.”
“You watch it too.”
“Only because you force me to,” Rafe counters, a playful glint in his eyes.
It’s been a month since the nightmare with your dad, and you’ve pretty much been living at Rafe’s new place ever since. Sure, you’ve got your own house, but it just doesn’t feel like home anymore. Rafe’s apartment though? It’s like your little safe haven now. You don’t officially live there, but who are you kidding? Most of your stuff is in his drawers, he’s stocked the bathroom with all your skincare, hair stuff, even a toothbrush. He tried to go all-out, buying you everything, and you kept telling him to stop, but it’s like talking to a wall. You gave up eventually.
As he pulls out of the parking lot, his hand slides over to grab yours. It’s such a simple thing, but it makes the tight feeling in your chest ease a little. You’re both quiet for most of the drive, but it’s not awkward or anything. It’s actually kind of nice. You never imagined he’d be so...attached. Things between you are still...somewhat undefined, but it definitely feels like a relationship. That thought is pushed to the back of your mind for now. It's just not the right moment to talk about it—not with his father’s trial only weeks away and your own dad still recovering in the hospital.
When you pull up to his apartment, the building feels familiar in a way that makes your stomach flip. He hops out of the car and, as usual, rushes around to open your door for you. It’s such a small thing, but it always makes your heart race.
Once inside, the place feels so different from the craziness of the day. It’s cozy, warm, and just... safe. You kick off your shoes and flop onto the couch, sinking into the cushions.
“Wanna watch your show?” Rafe asks, giving you that half-smile you’ve come to love.
You chuckle, feeling lighter than you have all day. “And you say you don’t love it.”
He grabs the remote and turns on the TV, navigating to the show. As the familiar theme song starts playing, you snuggle closer to him, finding comfort in the routine. It's all trashy drama and ridiculous contestants, but it’s the distraction you desperately need. Rafe’s arm stays around you, like always. But as the episode progresses, your eyelids grow heavy. The events of the day, combined with the sleepless night, catch up to you. You feel yourself drifting off, your head resting against Rafe’s chest, his heartbeat a steady rhythm lulling you to sleep.
“Rest, baby,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing whisper. “I’ve got you.”
Next thing you know, you wake up to the smell of something cooking. Blinking your eyes open, you realize Rafe’s in the kitchen, and the living room is dimly lit. A blanket slips off your shoulders as you sit up, and when you look over, he’s already smiling at you.
You’ve seen him smile more times over the past month than all the years you had “known” him combined. It looks good on him, makes him look younger. 
Stretching, you ask, “What’s all this?”
“Dinner. Figured you could use a good meal,” he says casually, like it’s no big deal that he’s cooked for you.
You sneak up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist. “Look at you, Chef Rafe.”
Ever since he moved in on his own, he’s been slowly learning how to take care of himself. You’ve caught him watching cooking and deep cleaning videos more times you can count. You find it endearing. It makes your chest ache, in a good way, to watch him slowly turn into his own person, not the Rafe his father shaped him to be.
He chuckles, giving you a quick forehead kiss. “Eat before it gets cold.”
You sit down, and the first bite has you practically moaning. He snorts at your reaction, but you can tell he’s proud of himself. As you eat, though, you notice he seems a little off. His shoulders are tight, and there’s something in his eyes that makes you pause. You reach across the table, placing your hand over his.
"What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“Rafe. What’s wrong?”
He hesitates, then sighs. “Got a call from my lawyer. About Ward.”
The mention of his dad sends a chill down your spine. “What about him?”
Rafe’s thumb brushes your knuckles as he looks down. “He wants to talk.”
“Do you want to talk to him?”
Rafe's jaw tightens, and he lets out a slow breath. “Yeah. But every time I’ve tried to stand up to him, it’s backfired."
You squeeze his hand, “He can’t hurt you anymore, you know that, right? You're not the same person you were before," you remind him gently. "You've grown so much, Rafe. You’ve made your own life."
He looks up at you, his gaze softening. The intensity in his eyes is clear—vulnerability, determination, and a deep-seated fear. It's as if he’s silently pleading for your reassurance, for the strength to face his demons.
“You think so?”
It's in the way his eyes become softer when they meet yours, the slight quiver in his lips, the way he holds your hand just a little tighter.
“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
“Okay. I…I’ll think about it.”
The two of you finish dinner, the conversation shifting to lighter topic. After cleaning up, you find yourselves back on the couch, the TV playing quietly in the background. 
Everything feels so domestic it pulls at your heartstrings. And it hits you how much you love this, just being here with him.
But you can still feel the tension rolling off him. You turn to him, tracing little patterns on his chest. “You’re still worried, huh?”
He sighs, throwing his head against the cushions, his hand coming up to rest on yours. "Yeah. I’m scared talking to him will pull me back into that dark place.”
You press a kiss to his clothed chest. “You won’t go back there. Not while I’m here.”
He tightens his hold on you, “You know you’re too good for this world. It’s ridiculous.”
You narrow your eyes, “Am not.”
“Yeah, you are, Pretty Maybank.”
There it is. That nickname. “You know that’s so stupid, right?”
He grins, completely unbothered. “You love it.”
You nudge him with your elbow. “I tolerate it.”
He catches your hand, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. “Fits you perfectly.”
You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the grin tugging at your lips.
“If you say so.”
His eyes soften as he looks at you, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hand. “I do.”
“Shup up,” You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks. “Don’t even know how you came up with that shit.”
Rafe laughs, the sound low and rumbling, his hand moving to rub your leg.  “It’s really stupid.”
You raise an eyebrow, teasing. “’Course it is.”
“Remember when we were fourteen, and we were both at the beach for that huge surf competition? You were this cocky, skilled little girl with an ego bigger than the waves.”
“And you were a suck-up mother—"
“Anyways,” He rolls his eyes, ignoring the way you tried to cut him off, his hand now lightly squeezing your knee, “You were out there showing off, catching wave after wave. I was so fucking annoyed."
You raise an eyebrow, giving him a skeptical look. “Oh, so you were secretly in awe of me?”
“Maybe,” he admits with a sheepish grin. “Or maybe I was just bitter because you made me look bad.”
“I made everyone look bad.”
“Okay, Gabriel Medina. You were out there showing off, making everyone watch you like you owned the ocean. All the boys were ogling you, calling you pretty, and you were loving every second of it.”
You smirk, remembering the day. "I was pretty good, wasn’t I?”
“Good?” He snorts, shaking his head as his fingers trail up and down your thigh. “You were more than good, you were unreal.”
"Yeah, yeah, so how does that tie into the nickname?”
“You came out of the water, hair all messy, sand on your skin, but you had this huge smile. One of the boys called you 'Pretty Maybank,' and you just laughed, brushing it off. But I— I guess I remembered it. It fit you.”
You blink, momentarily thrown off, "I...I didn’t know you remembered that."
“You’re kinda hard to forget Maybank.”
Your heart flutters at his words, the sincerity in his voice making it hard to breathe, “Shut up.”
He leans in, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss, his hand cradling the back of your head. It only lasts a few seconds, before you’re pulling away, mumbling against his lips.
 “You know, it’s funny. Back then, I thought you were just this arrogant piece of shit who was always trying too hard to fit in.”
“That’s so sweet.”
You cup his face, brushing your thumbs across his cheeks, “Hmm. You were always showing off, too.”
“Well,” he drawls, pulling you a little closer, his arms wrapping around your waist, “We both grew out of that phase. Mostly.”
“Mostly,” you agree with a grin. “But I guess some things never change.”
“Yeah,” He doesn't take his eyes off your face, “Some things don’t change. 
There’s a brief silence, filled with the quiet sound of the TV and the comfortable presence of each other. His fingers continue to trace patterns on your hand, and you can feel his earlier stress easing if only a little.
“I don’t want to mess this up,” He admits quietly, “With you.”
“We’ve come this far, haven’t we?”
Rafe’s fingers gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear, “Yeah, we have.”
“I’ll keep you in check, Cameron.”
He holds you tighter, his breath mingling with yours. “You're too good for me, y’know that?”
You laugh, “I know.”
Before you can react, his fingers are dancing across your sides, tickling you mercilessly. You squeal, wriggling and trying to escape his grasp, but he’s relentless.
"Rafe!” You gasp between fits of laughter.
"Say sorry,” he demands, his fingers still working their magic.
"Never!" you manage to choke out, tears of laughter streaming down your face.
He grins wickedly, the movement driving your tummy insane.
"Wrong answer."
You squirm in his grip, the tickling intensifying. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" you finally relent, breathless and giggling.
Rafe stops, his hands coming to rest on your waist. His grin is triumphant, but there's a softness in his eyes that makes your heart skip a beat. "That's what I thought," he muses, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.
You catch your breath, still smiling. "You know, for someone who's supposed to be a tough guy, you’re surprisingly good at this domestic stuff."
He chuckles, pulling you closer until you're nestled against him.
"What can I say? You bring out the best in me, Pretty Maybank."
"I like this," you admit softly. "Being here with you, just... us."
"Me too," Rafe murmurs, his hand gently stroking your hair. "Feels right, doesn't it?"
"Yeah, it does.”
⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ
Three weeks later, Rafe finally agrees to visit Ward in prison.
His lawyer arranged the meeting, emphasizing the importance of having this conversation to find closure. Despite your protests, Rafe insisted on doing this alone. Plus, prison's security measures are stringent, and there’s no way you could accompany him inside.
Instead, you’re stuck waiting outside, the anxiety killing you slowly. You're sitting on a bench outside the high-security prison, your foot tapping nervously against the ground.
The sun is blazing, making the wait even more unbearable. You wish you could be in there with him, supporting him. You glance at the ugly building, feeling desperate to get the hell away. Your phone buzzes, snapping you out of your thoughts. It’s a text from JJ.
"how's it going?"
You quickly type back.
"he just went in. kinda losing my mind out here."
"he’ll be okay. devil spawn and all yk".
"not helping???"
"my bad sis, just trying to lighten the mood. seriously though, he's got this."
You sigh, putting your phone down and glancing around the barren surroundings. The high walls and barbed wire of the prison seem to loom even larger now. Time drags on, every minute feels like an hour. You find yourself looking at the entrance every few seconds, hoping to see Rafe walk out.
Inside, Rafe is led through a maze of corridors, the echo of his footsteps bouncing off the cold concrete walls. The guards are stoic, their faces expressionless as they guide him to the visitation room. His heart pounds in his chest, but he forces himself to stay calm, to stay focused. He's going to be just fine.
When he finally walks in the room, he sees Ward already seated, the older man looking surprisingly composed. Of course he'd care about his appearance even when he's locked up. There's a glass partition between them, with phones on either side for communication. Rafe sits down, picking up the phone with a shaky hand. He wishes you were here. 
Ward's eyes are piercing as they lock onto Rafe's. "Look who finally decided to visit," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Took you time, boy."
Rafe takes a deep breath. This is it.
"Only came to tell you something."
Ward raises an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. "Oh? And what's that? That you’re an ungrateful piece of shit?”
Ignore him, your voice echoes in his head. He knew Ward was going to try to get a rise out of him and he hates that it might work.
"I'm done," Rafe says, his voice steady. "You don't control me anymore."
“After everything I've done for you?"
Rafe's grip on the phone tightens. "You didn't do shit for me. You did it for yourself."
Ward leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "You have no idea what you're talking about, boy. You need me."
"No, I don't," Rafe retorts, “No one needs you.”
Ward's eyes flash with anger, but he quickly masks it with a calculating smile. "Is that what you really think, son? That you can just walk away from everything? From me?"
Rafe feels a rush of anger fighting it's way up his throat, but he holds it back, remembering your words. He takes another breath, steadying himself, “I don’t care.”
Ward's smile fades, replaced by a sneer. "You think you're so strong now, don't you? Do you think you can survive out there without my influence? The world is a cruel place, Rafe. You won't last a day. You think that Maybank trash is gonna solve all your problems, huh?”
“You’re not getting under my skin.”
Ward's eyes narrow further, and he leans in closer to the glass, his voice dropping to a whisper. "So, it’s about her now, is it? What makes you think she’ll be any better for you than I was? She doesn’t know you like I do."
Rafe’s temper flares, but he forces himself to stay calm. He can’t take the bait.
"Keep her out of this.”
“You think you’re so righteous, so superior. You’ll need more than just some girl to get you through.”
“I don’t need you,” Rafe insists, his voice firm. “I never did.” 
Ward’s expression turns cold once more, but there’s a flicker of something—maybe regret, maybe just a reflection of his anger. “You can pretend you’re free, but you know I’m not so easily forgotten.”
Rafe takes a deep breath, forcing himself to stay composed. “I don’t need to hear anything else from you. I’m done.”
“You won’t be able to keep her safe.”
He knew the conversation wouldn’t be longer than five minutes.
He stands up abruptly, the phone clattering against the partition as he drops it. He doesn't need to hear Ward any more. He turns his back on his father and walks out of the room, the door clanging shut behind him. As he walks back through the maze of corridors, his thoughts turn to you, knowing you’re outside overthinking and ready to hug the live out of him. 
He’s striding to you the moment he sees you. You're still on the bench, trying to distract yourself with your phone, but it’s no use. You jump up, rushing over to him. You’re always so endearing to him it pains him to know he hurt you so badly over the years.
“You okay?”
Rafe’s arms wrap around you, finally breathing normally. His breath is warm against your ear as he whispers, “Yeah. I’m okay.”
You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as if you can protect him from the Ward’s harshness. “I was going crazy waiting out here.”
“Sorry for making you wait,” Rafe murmurs, his voice muffled against your shoulder. 
“I don’t care,” You pull back slightly, your hands moving to cup his face. Your fingers trace the lines of his jaw, feeling the faint stubble beneath your touch, “You did what you needed to do. And I’m proud of you.”
He smiles a small, tired smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, “Needed to hear that. Thank you.”
You nod, your thumb brushing against his cheek. “For what?” you ask, leaning into him again. “You did great, baby. You stood up to him. That takes so much strength.”
You take his hand, your fingers intertwining with his as you lead him away from the prison. His grip is strong, his palm warm against yours. The two of you walk in silence for a moment, the only sound the gravel crunching beneath your feet. You glance at him, noting the way his shoulders have relaxed a litte.
“I felt it. Like a weight lifting off me. It’s not completely gone, but it’s lighter.”
You stop walking, turning to face him fully. Your free hand reaches up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. It had grown so much over the past few weeks. “And it’ll keep getting lighter,” you assure him. 
“You think?”
“I know. You’ll keep needing to stand up to him,” you acknowledge, “But it will get easier each time.”
His hand brushes a stray hair from your face, copying your earlier movement. “And you’ll be here with me?”
“Always.”
Rafe’s expression softens, the hard edges smoothed away by the promise in your words. He leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
His lips linger there.
“You really are too good for me,” he murmurs against your skin, the sound blending with the hum of the car engines in the distance.
“I know.”
He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours. The intensity in his gaze takes your breath away, but it’s a different kind of intensity than you’re used to seeing in him. It’s softer, more open, and entirely focused on you.
“Let’s go home."
You nod, a smile spreading across your face. “Yeah, let’s go home.”
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bitchlessdino · 11 months ago
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nobody's home (m)
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Pairing: neighbor male nanny!seungcheol x afab maid!reader Genre:  smut, fluff towards the end Word count: 3.8k tags: working class au, mentions kids, big dick!Seungcheol, reader wears skirt and thong and panty hose, dom!seungcheol, brat!reader, rough sex, rough hair pulling and head movement, spitting and swallowing, heavy degradation kink, window sex, overstimulation, name calling (brat, slut, mr. choi), choking unprotected sex, breeding kink, cream pies Summary: Seungcheol and you have never crossed paths for long, but boy have you imagined it. Too preoccupied with your jobs working for some of the richest families in the city, you've sacrificed your grueling hours when you could've been fucked your brains out all this time. However, big risks come with big rewards when the holidays arrive. Then there's nobody home to stop you. author note: horny, horny, horny, that was the entire process writing all of this. i feel like i pulled this out one of my deepest most darkest horny moments bc why am i so into writing every part of this and thats so rare?? i enjoyed this alot, please enjoy guys and happy new year! its almost 2024 thats insane!!!!
Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @goblinvern @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @cottoncheol @embrace-themagic
You haven’t worked for this family all that long. Only long enough to realize the cute male nanny living in the house next door.
You've caught glimpses of him a handful of times on the lawn, overseeing the kids as they bask in the fresh air. His eyes sparkle like stars that lit the night sky and his smile outshines the opulence of this entire block of one-percenters. Witnessing that radiant smile aimed in your direction brightens your day each time. Without fail, you exchange polite greetings, accompanied by smiles and pleasant small talk, forming a delightful routine in your interactions.
As the housekeeper, you’ve had plenty of encounters while getting groceries, lawn or backyard parties, and windows. Lots of windows. You’d peer through when you’re cleaning, see him glance back at you, maybe sending you a wave as he’s mid-feeding the kid veggie tots. Your interactions with him were typically very brief and fleeting.
Now, there were no excuses. The holiday season is around the corner, and families in the neighborhood will soon be heading to the Alps, tropical destinations, or somewhere along those lines. That meant you’d be all alone in their mansion, much like someone else in the neighborhood.
You learn about it by seeing him at the grocery store. Trying not to get distracted by the loose-fitting dress shirt tucked in the waist of his trousers, you notice the little one he cares for rolls through the aisles full of toddler swagger in the shopping cart. You would gush at their delightful giggles if you didn’t find their caretaker so mind-numbingly distracting. 
With his broad shoulders, sturdy arms, and consistently solid build, you too would trust him with something so delicate and needy of attention. It was such a natural choice. However, the nearest option you had was, well, yourself.
He mentions that his employers preferred to keep their vacation exclusive to family, providing him with paid time off to use as he pleased. In turn, you mention being offered the same form of compensation, and am eternally grateful for such leniency. His expression sparks in piqued interest, briefly glancing at you before storing the hot chocolate package away in the cart. 
“Does that mean you’ll be away for the holidays?”
You muse at his question, fingers taking over your basket handle as he ponders on your response. A glimmer of optimism in his eyes beams in your direction, with a dimple etched deep in his cheek as he splays a hopeful smile. To which you answer jesterly, "Well, I hadn't implied that."
He softly chuckles, nudging you at the elbow, obviously trying to banger a proper answer. “Then tell me, what’s a pretty thing like you doing in a big house all alone during the holidays?”
His compliments delight you and warmth festers in your chest, greedy for more. "I suppose we'll find out, won't we?"
Seungcheol doesn’t have a moment to react as the child in the cart regains their energy. He shifts his gaze away momentarily and soon you escape his line of vision, seamlessly blending in amidst the bustling crowd of grocers. 
Returning to the residence, you linger by the largest window, offering a perfect view of Seungcheol dining during supper. It's a familiar scene, replaying like clockwork at the same hours each time. His silhouette in the warm glow of the neighbor's dining room becomes a sight with more to be desired, and you imagine a world where the divide doesn't exist. Staring in his eyes, you picture your entanglement. The heat of your bodies weaving together like threads in a tapestry, each bonded tightly, with only the power of shears to tear you apart.
His eyes reflect the same intensity, mentally undressing you down to the skin, making you his perfect canvas. He ponders the texture of your skin, your hair, and the sound you make when he tenderizes your flesh with his teeth. He wonders how full you feel between his fingers, or how sweet your nectar tastes. He can only envision the favor, the sensation, the warmth; holding the fantasy close to him like a secret taken to the grave.
That day would come soon enough.
Anticipating each passing hour of every day, you are elated by the promise of bidding farewell to your employers at the airport. You assure them of returning to a pristine home, meticulously cleaned from every nook and cranny. A grin, so expansive it borders on pain, graces your face, and there's a noticeable spring in your step as they fade into the depths behind the security checkpoints.
Without a moment's hesitation, you rush home, eager to connect with a kindred spirit just a few cobblestones away from your work residence. Judging by the expression in his eyes, it's clear he has fulfilled his responsibilities and bid farewell to his employers as well, eagerly awaiting your arrival. He grins at you, pleased to see you approach him.
“I see it that they made it to their flight safe?”
You hum in confirmation. “You would be seeing correctly. How did your family make it?”
"Quite smoothly," he answers nonchalantly, the dimple on his cheek sinking into a subtle but contented expression.
A palpable wave of relief releases from the depths of your lungs, and a chuckle escapes as you observe Seungcheol displaying a similar reaction. Even in the subzero temperatures, you sensed the fire of his gaze, unraveling your logical resolve and liquefying you into a puddle of your own arousal. In the depth of your gaze, he discerns your hopeful anticipation, one that matches his. “So, what are the plans for the rest of their absence?”
The corner of your lips can’t help the way lifts, smiling slyly back at him. “I’m sure you have some ideas.”
You thank the heavens every day they never reinstalled those security cameras. Utilize their vulnerability, you invite the neighbor’s nanny into their home, and the automatic door locks behind him. No use in holding back, he claims the lips swiftly, tasting need and rebellion on your tongue in a rough liplock.
His lips full and plush, they part to speak, but not with words. His tongue aligns with yours, only to tangle in incoherent mumbles that escape in between, yet communicate with you in perfect fluency. Much like the intimate gazes you share from the windows multiple times a day, the fervent kiss unfolding spoke more than the audible language ever could.
His hands work around your body, shoving off your coat and cardigan, abandoning them on the hardwood to slip his fingers beneath your shirt. A shallow breath leaves your lips and you rush him against you, planting yourselves against their pristinely white wall. The texture of the plaster digs into your backside, abrasive against your flesh and Seungcheol locks you in place by holding your thigh against his side.
“You don’t know how fucking bad I wanted to do this to you,” he growls into your kiss.
You let out a sultry chuckle, fiddling with his earlobe between the pads of your fingers. “You can say it out loud. Nobody’s home.”
He scoffs. “I said, I wanted to—“ he slams his hips against you, his cock bursting at the seams against your torso, “—fuck the living shit—“ he does so again, digging your sobbing clothed cunt with his solid thigh, “—out of this stupid, pretty cunt. That loud enough for you?”
You moan through your firm pressed lips, grinding against his steel hard thighs. “Just the perfect amount.”
In admiration, your hands roam over his body, and shamelessly rips off his dress shirt, hearing the buttons skip against the cool tile. He grunts at the sensation of the frigid air enveloping his broad stature as it pebbles goosebumps on his upper arms. Returning your savage gesture, his hand fingers through your hair and dragging it back to pin your head on the wall behind you, fisting handfuls of your locks. “That wasn’t very nice of you. Could’ve asked for permission at least first,” he snarls, baring his front teeth.
“Can’t help it,” you grin, “you just look so good without it on. I bet you look without anything on.”
His chest presses flat against your body without even space to breathe and his unyielding gaze bore into you. He aligns his conceited grin against your lips to smash it brusquely—as if thanking you—pulling at your bottom lip between his perfect teeth. “I’m sure it’s all you think about when you see me.”
Quickly, he maneuvers you; twisting your heel and guiding with a hand on your waist, he forces you against the unyielding surface of the wall and trails that same hand over your chilled spine. 
You softly gasp at his touch, feeling the flood of your clenched walls seep through your underwear and layering your inner thighs. His chilling, velvet voice beckons, coating the inside of your ears. “But I’ve dealt with brats, you know that. Let me show exactly what happens when you test the limits of my discipline.”
Seungcheol lifts the flap of your skirt, barring the shape of your cheeks protected under a layer of pantyhose and caressing its plush cushion. Then came the flat palm of his hand coming against you at full force. You jolt upon contact, clinging to the foundation of this house to recover, yet mewl at the arousal erupting inside you. A sound emerges from the depths of your throat, vaguely sounding of his name as well as plead.
“You like that, don’t you? A naughty little brat you are,” he chuckles sinisterly.
You push your back against his hips, finding the mold of his cock readily and fitting between the rounds of your ass. His soft groan follows, his erection rubbing against the pantyhose. “God, you really like that.”
“I want it,” you whine impatiently, backing your hips on him, and crushing his length, “give it to me.”
“What kind of authority figure would I be if I gave into one of my brat’s demands?” He strikes your cheek again, stinging lingering dully as your flesh had barely recovered from the last hit, and drool leaking out of the corner of your lips. “Not a very good one,” he answers.
“Please, Seungcheol...”
He does do again, if not harder, and each strike collides with both cheeks. “You’ll be referring to me as Mr. Choi now, brat.”
You never knew his surname, but upon discovery, you notice how smooth it rolls off the tongue. How delicious it sounds out of your swollen lips.
“Mr. Choi…” You breathe out, your cunt vibrating at the notion of his power.
He hums pleased, rewarding the back of your neck with a gentle peck. “Good job. What is it you want?”
“Please, Me Choi, I want your cock inside me…”
He clicks his tongue. “Do you, now?” He chides, “Are you going to behave from now on?” 
You nod gingerly. “Yes, just give it to me, please…all of it…”
“Mmh, since you’re being so polite. I guess positive reinforcement is in order.” Seungcheol’s hand caresses your hips, reaching for the curves of your ass in confident determination. The soft caress of his rich voice proceeds, “Let’s just get these out of the way.” 
He ruthlessly tears the sheer material of your pantyhose, exposing your skin and the red lacy thong that hardly holds you up. You erupt in a startled gasp, welcoming the cool embrace of the air ventilation on your blistered skin. His voice drops to a lower octave and his groaning dissolves, melding into a soft sigh. “What a pretty little holiday gift for me. Only took me a moment to realize I have to unwrap it.”
“I thought of you when I decided the color,” you admit in feigned innocence, “you seem to like the holiday colors.”
“I do. Darling of you for noticing,” he praises with a hint of tease, “and my, does it suit you. Maybe there is hope for a brat like you.”
You hear the draw of his zipper, following the heavy drop of fabric to the ground. Slightly turning your head, you see he kicks the clothes aside and grins upon inspection of his full-length lining up between your legs. Your knees began to wobble, parting your feet for a more stable stance, and you swoon with your head against the wall. “You look so big…”
The head of his cock rubs against the lace, precum leaking from the tip and creating a small mess on your already ruined panties. You hear a smile in his scoff and feel the snap of your underwear before his tip breaches your molten warmth. He whispers, “Wait until you feel how big it is pushing in and out of that pretty wet cunt of yours…”
“Mmh, Mr. Choi…” Your breath halts as his girth parts your entrance, stretching your walls until it is Seungcheol and your lubricating arousal. He seethes in relief, letting your welcoming embrace around him soothe his intensifying erection and he bucks his hips, having you adjust to his size.
You rest your forehead on the wall, feeling him bury himself inside you. “Shit…yes, Mr Choi…”
“Such bratty pussy.” He spanks both cheeks once more, watching the recoil of your flesh. “My perfect bratty little pussy…bet you’re so used to misbehaving. It won’t be like that around me.”
He took one deep, languid thrust, automatically groaning, “Fuck,” then released his hips.
You immerse in his plunder of your voice, letting it ache in need as you repeat his name. Meanwhile, your internal temperature rises with the collision of his lap and your ass growing harsh and unforgiving. Pinning your wrist together single-handedly, he lets his other grip reclaim your hair, dragging your body to him for his own use. “You feel so fucking good around me.”
He tenses his torso to take sharper strikes, pulsing deeper and quicker. Your hand slides on the solid surface in front of you, pushing yourself against him as you take every inch. Your jaw drops low, echoing a hollow whine, devoid of incoherent thoughts and instinctive response.
Seungcheol lets go of your wrists and instead sandwiches them between your back and his chest. He finds the front panels of your shirt and tears it apart similarly you did with his, echoing that familiar sound of buttons being abandoned on the ground. 
“Because you deserve the same thing to happen to you,” he softly mutters, only to cup your cladded breast hungrily, squeezing your flesh to the point it spills out of the material as his teeth kiss your neck, “and because I couldn’t stop looking at these when you’re walking around that see-through blouse by that window we share.”
Thinking about the fact that you share something made his intention all the more intimate, and you cling to his body like saran wrap due to the simple fact. You melt as he marks your body with bites, the stinging resonating on your goosebumped skin. “I wear that because of you,” you manage to squeak, “only because you wear that t-shirt that clings to your body during the summer. How it got damp from sweat fixing that broken bookcase. God, is it satisfying to rip your shirt off.”
“That window was always the culprit, hmm?”
He pries you from where you stand and drags you to the referred structure with you giggling after him. There he bends you over the dining table placed strategically in front of it, while your ass points towards the glass screen. His spanks come flying, tenderizing the already raw and blistered skin, “This damn window you always linger by.” 
His nails dig into your kneaded flesh and he fits his cock right where it belongs, plunging back inside you as he secures your head against the table. “The way I wanted to fuck you on this exact table, spank this cute fucking ass,” he roughly tugs your head up, watching your tits bounce as he ruts in you like a damn dog, and meets your warm wide-eyed gaze, “Spit in that slutty, brat mouth.”
Your lips part without delay, death gripping the edge of the mahogany, and your tongue slings out enthusiastically. He breaks out in an amused grin before it melts back into a smolder, gripping you closer until he hocks a hot load of salvia in your mouth, forcibly closing your jaw with his hands.
“Hold it,” he commands, seeing the subtle frown on your face as you obey. He smiles sinisterly, hands on your hips as he slams you towards him, watching your head bob at the harsh rhythm. He places his palm over the column of your throat, teeth clawing your cheek. “Now swallow, you slut.”
He feels the shift in your throat as it goes down, relishing that light gasp of breath leaving your lips, “Good slut. You’re finally learning.”
His power, his strength, his cadence were inexplicably captivating and you succumb to his every whim. It only intensifies as you drink in his delectable lips, so soft in contrast to the abrasive snap of his hips, hitting in a spot so sensitive you don’t even predict it coming.
Your moan resonates through the entire first floor, palming the dinner table as you ride out your high in teary anguish as Seungcheol’s pace doesn’t seem to falter, in fact, it seems to have grown angrier. Furious. 
“You fucking slut,” he spits, rubbing your overstimulated clit in the thick of your climax, squeezing the tears out of your eyes. You clutch his forearm in desperation, writhing uncontrollably. “S-Seungcheol—“
“Misbehaving again, I see.” He pulls out of you to flip you on your back. He watches at your hot cheeks expel heavy pants, sweat filming your entire torso, and eyes rolling to the back of your head. “You’re still conscious; you haven’t had enough just yet.”
Dragging by the arm, he takes you against the tempered glass, chilling your bare spine. He lifts your legs off the ground and holds them on either his side, stuffing himself back into you. Your heat drips around his cock, and he catches it in his thrusts, pressuring you to feel every inch of his cock rammed inside. 
Your ass and the pads of your fingers press against the glass, smudging its once-pristine sheen. “Mr.Choi…”
He strokes your cheek, fondness in his eyes before it lowers to your throat and closes around it. Then his eyes penetrate through you, eying you in a dark allure as he robs you of breath, and catching the daze in your eyes as he ponders in thought. 
“What are you thinking dirtying up the thing you took so long cleaning with your fingerprints and cum, hmm? Marking your claim on the house you've spent all day and night on looking perfect? A house far from being yours? How does it make you feel?”
“…Exhilarating,” you sigh shallowly, staring back at him with a smile. Your arms loop around his neck, finding security and embracing his vigorous nature. “Like it’s all worth the painstaking labor to make a complete mess of it.”
He groans at your answer, reconnecting your lips in what feels like an eternity, and cradles the side of your face endearingly with one hand still around your neck. His lips devour yours, swallowing your moans, jerking his hips, and savoring the velvet of your walls clench around him so deliciously. 
“You were just as worth the wait. Made my job so damn hard thinking your pussy wrapped around my cock, made me fucking blank out most of my day. Not a good move for me, but–really–I blame you,” he slams you against the window before quickly returning to his rhythm pace. 
“You and your perfect body—” He grinds up into you, relocating your sensitivity and you whimper, “—Your sexy fucking voice when you greet me,” and he finally, makes notice of your face, using that hand that crushed around throat now gripping your chin, “—or this beautiful face that I couldn’t wait to see contort when I push my fucking cum inside.”
Usually, you know better than to let that kind of thing happen, but after the long duration of having only distant contact, his offer becomes tempting—alluring even—that you knew someone had to physically pry you off of him until you were filled with his seed. “Well, you’re so good with kids, wanna make some of your own?”
Seungcheol beckons closer, grinning mischievously, “Should I? You want me to put my babies in you? Fill you up with cum?”
You mewl at the thought, bringing his warmth closer, “I’d be so full…taking your fat cock and all your hot cum inside me…it’d be a dream, especially knowing how good you’re taking care of us, especially me.”
“You’d want that, hmm,” driving himself into you until you're lost in your own world again—losing the grasp on reality—and he persists. “You want my cum making a mess of you and this house just so I could put some babies in this pretty cunt? Hmm? That what you want?”
You nod mindlessly, anchoring yourself to him until he finally lets up. When he does, you feel the power surges through you as if you’re fresh new battery, the electrical current being the cum he shoots up into you. You let yourself ride this high, rocking into his hips, and soon your weight takes over, deducing you to a puddle. He takes his final pumps, cooing softly at your lips as you share a kiss, then drops you back on the dining table, letting you catch your breath as the cum spills slowly out of you and stains the floor under your feet.
He stands between your legs, tracing over the texture of your thighs, and his other hand claims your waist, meeting your face with a tired but tender smile. “Hi.”
You softly chuckle, resting a palm on the back of his neck. “Hi,” you repeat back.
“So dinner?” 
You playfully roll your eyes, bordering his hips with your legs. “Are you offering to cook?”
“My job requires me to, so yes,” he traces over your jaw, drawing in closer, “Wouldn’t want to feed my clients burnt Mac and cheese with their frozen Dino nuggies.”
“True,” your arms lock at the elbows around his neck, “But what else can you make besides Mac and cheese with Dino nuggies?”
“That is the question, isn’t it?” He answers vaguely.
You finger through his hair and notice how his perspiration has left him mouthwateringly disheveled, quietly contemplating how to stretch out this vacation time. Your solution: never leave each other’s side. 
“I’ll tell you what. We can think about what to eat…after a shower. “
You retrieve his hand, tugging him in your desired direction and he follows graciously with a knowing grin. “We can do that, but we both know that shower will end up more dirty than clean.”
“Good thing I’m an expert in keeping a clean home, now it’s your turn to clean my home.”
His dimple graced his cheek, visibly interested. “My pleasure.”
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vinelark · 4 months ago
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in honor of his birthday i would like to ask if you, as a master of a pangy fic writing, have any pangy jason fics to recommend
❗️ you’ve given me a quest! i do indeed have pangy jason fic recs, and here are some of them:
pre-death:
Not All Kidnappings are Bad by @cdelphiki
a “bruce finds jason early” au, featuring 9 y/o jason’s understandable trust issues, bruce’s terminal awkwardness, and slow-burn family. the identity reveal here is also one of my favorite moments.
we’re released pushing daisies by shoutowo
jason starts acting strange out of the blue, and bruce is fraying at the seams trying to figure out why. i love how the pov is so deftly navigated here; the reader knows almost exactly what’s going on, even if bruce never does, and we still get a little catharsis.
these words you can’t say by glaciya
a short, excellent, gut-punch of a fic in which jason is figuring out his place in the family, and dick takes out some of his bruce issues on jason (but does his best to fix it later).
A MOMENT THAT'S HELD IN YOUR ARMS. by orpheusaki
possibly my fav early days jason pang fic of all time; jason and bruce are stumbling toward learning to communicate, and bruce runs headfirst into one of jason’s (understandable) misconceptions.
Safe Space by Cerusee
the summary puts it perfectly: “Turns out, Bruce and Jason aren’t quite on the same page about who’s parenting whom.” feat. some exploration of jason’s past + trauma around being a caretaker to a parent figure.
post-resurrection:
the only way out (is as a carcass) by @silk-scarlet-ribbons
red hood gets mentally rewound to his robin days, and has A Time. this fic also delves a bit into jason grappling with the major changes his body went through since he was robin, which is a particularly compelling pang to me.
all my love and terror balanced there by @burins
in which jason and bruce have a conversation, and i cry. (this line has lived in my head since i read it: "I lost you too," Jason says. "You always forget that. And I never got you back.")
Tap Out by @coyote-nebula
jason gets poisoned as a civilian, which kicks off a character study of jason & bruce + trying not to hurt each other. one of my favorite jason povs!
The Cold Like Coming Home by cabezas_de_vaca
jason rescues bruce wayne from a kidnapping across the globe from gotham. this one made me experience the full spectrum of jason & bruce emotions, pangs and all.
butcherbird, fly away home by e_va
unrelated to the previous fic, but: jason rescues bruce wayne from a kidnapping across the globe from gotham. here, bruce doesn’t know jason’s alive yet, jason doesn’t tell bruce the truth about what happened to him (at first), and they both Go Through It before eventually going home.
It Doesn’t Look Bitter on You by ManURonaldo
a story about jason’s food insecurity, with some really excellent pangs in both the past & present timelines. (also comes with a side of tim pangs, as a treat.)
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artykyn · 1 year ago
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Megamind was 9 days old when his parents shipped him off the planet. His species is full of super geniuses, Megamind canonically remembers what was happening on that day.
We don’t know how old Minion is but regardless of that, what we do know is that Megamind’s parents trusted him to be a fully capable and responsible caretaker. So whatever he is and however old he is, we can assume he also has a good memory of their home planet and what happened.
Metroman, on the other hand... he has incredible physical powers, but definitely no impressive mind powers. Or else Hal would have become smart. There’s no reason to believe that Metroman’s intelligence or childhood mental development was any more impressive than the average human.
...what I’m saying is that there’s a nonzero chance that Metroman has absolutely NO idea where he is from. Parents probably didn’t have time to leave a note in his capsule. Dude probably thinks he’s just a super special human or some kind of lab experiment and that Megamind and Minion are the only two aliens in this situation. Doesn’t realize he was their galactic neighbor.
Just. Imagine them all hanging out as friends sometime after the events of the movie, and Metroman asks Megamind and Minion how they met each other. A totally innocent and normal question to ask.
But it snowballs into a much different conversation
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heavenlyraindrops · 7 months ago
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Academic Rivals to Lovers prompts
Constantly fighting each other for the top spot on leaderboards
entering the same academic competitions
heated arguments during class debates full of tension
Fighting over the same book that they need in the library
fighting over the same secluded spot to relax/ study in
studying in the library reading until super late, they’re the only people left, seated deliberately far away from each other as they lose track of time. And then they get locked in cause the librarian/ caretaker locked up the place for the night forgetting to check if there was anyone left inside.
when the bickering and fighting in classes get so bad that the teacher yells at them and makes them clean out the classroom together after class as punishment
secretly admiring each other for their intelligence/ grades
forced to tutor someone together by the teacher
A is lacking a subject B is good at, teacher makes B tutor A (or vice versa)
glaring at each other or bumping into each other on purpose in the hallways
Ends up joining the same club, too passionate about it to leave
alternatively, they’re both on the debate team and get in heated arguments during practice
forced to take the same route back home after school
stuck on a group project together and end up carrying the team
alternatively, fighting for leadership/ control within the group
alternatively (again), paired together (instead of a group) and fighting with each other over details and nitpicking each other’s work
forced to sit next to each other in class/ be lab partners for the rest of the term
forced to correct/ grade/ review or look at each other’s work
taking a class test next to each other, A is struggling with a question, B surprisingly helps them
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whumpshaped · 1 year ago
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forever thinking about recapture
whumpee getting grabbed on their way home and dragged into a car thats hauntingly familiar
whumpee getting chloroformed again while a familiar voice is telling them to relax
or alternatively "did you really think i'd let you run?"
whumpee realising their home has been broken into and finding a threatening message somewhere. even just a found you scribbled on the wall
whumpee attacked while they're fumbling with the key to get inside, then promptly shoved inside the apartment and being tied up in their own bedroom
whumpee approached in a public setting, frozen in fear and unable to alert anyone because they know whumper has the ability to cause a bloodbath and they don't want to get innocent civilians involved
whumpee approached in a public setting and whumper showing them a photo of a tied up caretaker in a room that has served as whumpee's prison for months. "how about a trade?"
whumpee waking up in a familiar cell, having panic attack after panic attack, sobbing and screaming their throat raw because this can't be happening again
whumpee going docile and quiet as soon as they realise what's happening, their conditioning kicking in to protect them
"i'm so glad you still remember me"
"you haven't forgotten your manners, have you?"
"i heard you went to therapy, hm? i hope they haven't stuffed your head full of too many lies"
whumper bringing out their most common torture instrument. "for old times' sake"
caretaker realising that whumpee didn't send them their daily text, the one they agreed on specifically so they'd know whumpee was okay
whumpee not picking up the phone for the third time
whumper picking up whumpee's phone. "oh, thank goodness whumpee, i thought-" "i'm awfully sorry, they're a bit preoccupied at the moment." caretaker can hear whumpee's muffled cries and screams in the background
caretaker arriving home and finding the apartment ransacked and empty
caretaker finding a letter from whumper. "thanks for watching them while i was dealing with the police <3"
caretaker finding a stack of photos of whumpee being subdued in their own apartment
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eternal-evergreens · 27 days ago
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。⁠*゚⁠+*⁠.⁠✧"Into the looking glass - II " 。⁠*゚⁠+*⁠.⁠✧
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Part I Part II Part III Part IV
Post format: Multipart series
Pairing: Yandere!Male!DoL x Fem!Isekai!Reader
Word count: 5.2k
Synopsis: You gain the chance to wake up in the world of one of your favorite games. Unfortunately, the 'favorite game' happens to be one about rape, violence, and stalking. Not only that, but the game seems to be rigged against you. All you want is to find a way home and put this all behind you, but is that even possible...?
Warnings: Sexual Assault, Attempted Non/Con, Stalking, Violence, Age Gaps, Teacher/Student, Caretaker/Ward, One Suicide Joke, Bullying,
Excellent Good Decent Okay Poor Bad Terrible
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What…what does that mean?
Darling? Surely, they don’t mean it the way you think they mean it…
…But, if that were the case, why would it be written in red and pink? You think back on all the strange occurrences of the day and come to a horrifying realization.
Beauty: 7/6 Your beauty is beyond measure. Robin wants to be your best friend.             Love: 100% Confidence: 0% Trauma: 0% Lust: 40% Whitney wants to own you. Love: 50% Dominance: 50% Lust: 100% Kylar is obsessed with you. Love: 100% Jealousy: 55% Lust: 90% Sydney is conflicted. Love: 77% Purity: 44% Lust: 66% Bailey doesn’t want you to leave. Love: 25% Lust: 99% You’re Leighton’s favorite. Love: 10% Lust: 85% Your fellow students desire you.
When they say “Darling,” they mean it as in the victim of a yandere.
This...this isn't DoL.
Your phone buzzes. You’ve gotten a text. 
Congratulations! You’ve made a key discovery and found a fragment of the true nature of this world. 
What the fuck does that mean? Wait, this thing can read your thoughts? 
View fragment?  Y/N
Yes. If you can go home, yes.
There are 7 total fragments.             Fragments found: 2             Fragments remaining: 5 Fragment 1:            Welcome to the alpha of Degrees of Lewdity!           If you want to avoid trouble, dress modestly and stick to safe, well-lit areas. Nights are particularly dangerous. Dressing lewd will attract attention, both good and bad.            The new school year starts tomorrow at 09:00. The bus service is the easiest way to get around town. Don’t forget your uniform and backpack!
You remember getting this message. So, that was a fragment, then? Why weren’t you notified before? Did you need to unlock something first?
Fragment 2: This is a world full of yanderes, so be careful! Balance your social stats between fascination, love, lust, jealousy, and devotion to survive. A quick guide on these crucial four states is provided below:  Fascination indicates how enthralled your yandere is by the idea of you. It’s dangerous to let this get too high!  Love indicates how much a yandere values the authentic you. Putting on airs will lower your yandere’s love, but may be necessary at times. Having a negative love will lead to more dangerous encounters. Lust indicates carnal desire. Higher lust can aid in negotiations if you’re willing to reward them, but if this stat goes up too much, they won’t be willing to hear you out before taking what they want. Jealousy indicates the yandere’s volatility and desire to monopolize you. Some yanderes’ jealousy will go up if you don’t spend enough time with them.  Devotion indicates how far the yandere is willing to go out of their way for you. Having this stat means you can make use of your yanderes, but they may also use their devotion in less productive ways.
Seems like every fragment reveals one truth about the world, as well as some tips on how to make use of the information it provides.
Your phone buzzes.
System error. Please reboot.
You look down at your phone with curiosity. What happened? Not knowing what else to do, you restart your phone and open it again. 
Your social tabs have been updated with more accurate information. View tabs? Y/N
Yes.
Social                Excellent Good Decent Okay Poor Bad Terrible Primary relationships Robin The Orphan Robin wants to be your best friend.       Facination: 100% Love: 0% Devotion: 30% Lust: 40%         Confidence: 0% Trauma: 0% Whitney The Bully  Whitney wants to own you.       Facination: 50% Love: 0% Devotion: 0% Dominance: 50% Lust: 100% Kylar The Loner Kylar is obsessed with you.       Fascination: 100% Love: 0% Devotion: 30% Jealousy: 55% Lust: 90% Sydney The Faithful ? Sydney is conflicted.       Fascination: 77% Love: 0% Devotion: 20% Purity: 44%        Lust: 66% Other relationships:  Bailey The Caretaker Bailey doesn’t want you to leave.       Fascination: 25% Love: 0% Lust: 99% Devotion: 1% Leighton The Headmaster You’re Leighton’s favorite.       Fascination: 16% Love: 0% Lust: 85% Devotion: 0% Reputation  The police aren’t concerned with you, and have no evidence linking you to any crime. The atmosphere in the orphanage is calm. You are considered a normal student by teachers. Your fellow students desire you. Lust: 100% Status: 50%
Before you can properly digest this new information, your phone buzzes again.
Congratulations! You’ve unlocked a new quest.  You have just discovered two secrets of the world, and with it, your understanding becomes clearer. ++Awareness. You feel as if you are on the verge of remembering something important. Discover all there is to know about this place, and perhaps you may be granted the opportunity to escape it. View questpage? Y/N
You might be able to go home? You quickly hit the yes button and keep reading.
Main questline  >Find the remaining fragments and discover the true nature of this world. >Meet the remaining love interests.  Time-sensitive >Bailey wants £100 on Sunday.
…You have to meet the remaining love interests? Doesn’t that mean getting kidnapped?! You stare at your phone dejectedly as you roll over in bed. You’ll worry about that later. For now, you just need to rest. You close your eyes, but you can’t get comfortable. Your phone buzzes for what feels like the millionth time, and you lazily pull it out to check. 
You’ve unlocked a new quest!  Your bed is uncomfortable. All rest points are reduced by half. Nightmares are more intense. Every rest has a 5% chance of waking you up sore. Save up your funds and buy a comfortable bed!  Current funds: £186 Funds needed: £2400 Optional: Decorate your room to match your taste. Current funds: £186 Funds needed: ??? Rewards: Triple current rest points, nightmares reduced Penalty: None Bonus Rewards: +Love to all LI’s, passive stress and trauma decay faster while inside.
Money again, huh? Typical. Still, the rewards are pretty good. You’ll have to do it later. For now, you should probably go to work to make it happen. You change out of your uniform and head to the office building, where you approach the kiosk and apply as a temp. It’s a somewhat risky job, but the pay is one of the best, especially once you start getting bonuses.
Your manager this time is a trim man named Marcus. He shows you around the building and you get to work. It’s not too bad, though your clothes get caught in the shredder more times than you’d like to admit, at least you didn’t fall in the koi pond.
Before you realize it, it’s 22:00. Dark once again. Dark in Doltown with a constantly maxed allure. 
Fuck.
You go downstairs and are debating whether you should risk the bus or the streets when a growling pair of yellow eyes meets your gaze. 
“If I get molested by a dog, I’m actually gonna kill myself,” you say to no one in particular, immediately turning to the direction of the nearest bus stop.
That’s another reason you should work at the dog pound from time to time, actually. Completing various tasks there makes the streets safer at night and beastiality encounters less frequent. 
You end up having to use your sole pepper spray charge on two men from the bus, leaving you unprotected and uneasy. You open your phone and turn on the flashlight, but your eye is caught by your status. Right under the blurb telling you about your current state, is purple text reading: “Something is watching you.”
An idea strikes you. It’s bold, it’s risky, it’s—
This is stupid, you think to yourself. This is so, so stupid. You follow your flashlight to a secluded, dead-end alleyway. There’s only one way for someone to come in here. You check your phone. Something is watching you.
“Hello?” You call out. “I know you’re watching me. Come out already.” You hear a rustling near the garbage bags, then see a short figure dart out and make a run for it. You were expecting this, though, so you immediately break out into a sprint and give chase. You aren’t very fast, but your legs are longer, and you quickly catch up. “Gotcha,” you say, hand on their shoulder as you turn them to face you. “Kylar.”
“H-how did you know?” 
“Forget that. Just know I’m not mad.” 
“Y-you aren’t?” There’s a twinge of hope in his voice. Time to crush it.
“I’m not. Not yet, anyway.” Kylar looks confused. “I hear you’re good at chemistry. Can you make pepper spray?” 
“How did you-” 
“Can you?” You say, allowing your voice to take on a flirtatious lull as you lean in close. “I’d be very happy if you could.” You bat your eyelashes and Kylar gulps. He tries to nod but ends up hitting your head with his own by accident. +Pain 
“Good,” you say. “I want you to make pepper spray for me. Make sure I never run out, and you can follow me to your heart's content. Deal?” You hold out your hand for him to take. Kylar considers it for a moment, then takes your hand. ++Devotion. You shake, but he doesn’t let go. Not wanting to provoke him, you leave it, and Kylar ends up walking you home. It’s silly, but you actually feel a little safer walking with him. +Love.
Together, you reach the orphanage’s entrance. Kylar looks like he wants to ask you to stay the night but quickly flushes and runs away. 
Thank God. 
You climb into bed. It isn’t very comfortable.
——————— 
It is the 6th of September, 2022. -It has been 2 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn.  -It is autumn. -School term Finishes on Friday the 2nd of December. Current Funds: £357 Pain: You feel okay Arousal: You are cold Fatigue: You are alert Stress: You are calm Trauma: You are uneasy Control: You are confident Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged
You walk with Robin to school but part ways after reaching the courtyard. You aren’t sure where Robin goes when you part, but you suppose it doesn’t really matter. You head to the library but are surprised to find that Sydney isn’t there. You guess he must have overslept at the temple again, which means he won’t be back until lunch. 
You suddenly wish you knew where Robin went after arriving at school. It’s probably more dangerous to wander around looking for him, though. So you settle down with a textbook until it’s time for class. When you check your school progress, you’re delighted to see every subject at nearly a 50% understanding for the week already. You’re on track.
The science project is assigned. You decide to do one on lichen. The money will help a lot, and it’ll be a good chance to meet Avery for your quest, too.
Someone spills acid on you during class. It was probably supposed to hit your shirt, but because of how you can’t button it up past your chest, it ended up hitting your breast instead. You spent the rest of class in the infirmary getting lectured about lab safety. Luckily, it was hardly even a first-degree burn. It’ll heal in no time, she said. 
+Pain +Willpower
You return just in time to be late for math. +Delinquency 
“Detention,” River says, not bothering to look up from the whiteboard. 
“But—”
“Don’t talk back to me.”  ++Delinquency
You nod, though you doubt he can see it, and look for a seat. The room is full, save for one seat in the back next to Whitney. It’s covered in boxes full of heavy textbooks.
Your phone buzzes. 
>Move the boxes and sit next to Whitney +Fatigue -Dominance Increases chance of harassment >Sit in Whitney’s lap (Promiscuity 4) +++Dominance +++Lust -Jealousy  >Ask someone to move +Delinquency -Dominance >Leave the classroom +++Delinquency
You sigh and march over to a toned boy sitting in the front. You try to smile but end up grimacing instead. “Could I sit here?” You ask. The boy laughs. River shoots you a look. -Status +Deliquency
>Get physical ++Delinquency +Status ? >Move the boxes and sit next to Whitney +Fatigue -Dominance Increases chance of harrasment >Sit in Whitney’s lap (Promiscuity 4) +++Dominance +++Lust -Jealousy  >Leave the classroom +++Delinquency
You grit your teeth and walk over to Whitney, who pats his lap mockingly. You turn away from him to pick up the boxes, and he lifts your skirt up. You don’t think anyone saw, but it was still humiliating. You quickly move the boxes and sit down, trying to focus on the lesson. You’re doing pretty well despite your low grade, but sitting next to Whitney is definitely not helping. About halfway through the lesson, he throws a note at you, and despite your better judgment, you open it. 
“show us your panties slut”
>Flash (Exhibitionism 1) +Lust +Dominance >Throw away -Dominance >Correct the note and throw back (English: Very difficult) --Dominance
You try to correct the note, but find nothing wrong. You toss it in a nearby bin instead.
-Dominance 
The rest of class passes, and although Whitney tries to undo your bra strap again, he reaches for the back instead of the front, leaving you protected.
You go to English next, your previous encounter with Whitney leaving you motivated to do well. You see Kylar sitting in the back. You ignore him and focus on the lesson instead. It’s boring, but you need the grade, so you muddle through it.
You try to muddle through it, anyway. The person behind you keeps kicking your seat, and then looking away every time you turn to face him.
>Tell the teacher -Status +English >Endure +Stress >Move seats +Delinquency
You quietly inform the teacher of your predicament, and she sends the boy to another seat. Some students snicker at you, but you’re able to finish the lesson in peace. -Status +English
The bell rings, and you head to lunch. Robin is eating with some others from the orphanage; they seem to be having fun. Sydney is sitting behind a large pile of books; he looks stressed. Kylar is eating alone, stabbing food with a fork; he looks bored.
>Sit with Robin +Love -Stress -Jealousy  >Sit with Sydney +Love -Stress -Jealousy >Sit with Kylar +Love -Jealousy +++Pepper spray charge  >Eat Lunch -Stress
You sit with Kylar, and hope no one notices. He immediately perks up upon seeing you. “I-I got you this,” he says, handing you a pepper spray canister. “Should keep the perverts away.” 
You gained 20 pepper spray charges! Talk to Kylar each week to refill. >Take it but say nothing -Love >Take it and thank +Love +Devotion >Take it and kiss ++Lust ++Devotion >Take it and reward +++Lust +++Devotion
You thank him sincerely, and the two of you spend the rest of lunch together. +Love +Devotion
After eating, you buy a coffee and head to the library, walking up to Sydney. “Welcome back!” He chirps from behind the desk. He looks exhausted despite the chipper tone. You hand him the coffee. 
“Don’t overwork yourself,” you say, smiling. Sydney looks surprised but quickly smiles and takes the coffee from you. You look down at the stacks of books on his desk. +Love “Anything I can help with?” 
“Oh, you don’t have to-”
“I want to,” you say firmly. You feel bad just leaving him there, plus…
>Help Sydney +Love +Devotion +School -Sydney’s purity
Well, how can you turn that down? Aside from the purity loss, those are all pretty damn good. 
“Well, if you don’t mind,” he says, fidgeting a little. “Could you help me stamp these books?” You nod, and Sydney lets you in behind the counter. +Love +Devotion +School
The two of you chat while you work, and it actually ends up being pretty enjoyable! -Stress -Trauma +Love
Your hands brush with Sydney's while you work. -Sydney'd purity.
“Hey, Syd! Oh, and [First], too!” Someone says, walking up to the counter. It’s Sirris, Sydney’s father and your science teacher. “How are you doing, love bug?” Sydney looks embarrassed but still answers. “Oops! I forgot I’m not supposed to call you that at school. Sorry, hon.” You get the feeling he did it on purpose, but if Sydney also thinks this, he doesn’t say anything. The two of them chat for a little bit, with Sirris mostly ignoring your presence. You feel a little awkward, but it’s cute to see the two of them getting along so well. Sirris leaves after a few minutes, waving to you both.
You smile at Sydney. “Seems like you and Dad are pretty close, huh?” He flushes. 
“L-let’s get back to work,” he says. You decide not to tease him further. The two of you finish the rest of the work in silence, and the bell rings, so you get up and head to History class.
A mousy girl is sitting in your seat next to Robin. You ask her to move, but she won’t budge. You already have detention today, so you decide not to push it and sit somewhere else. Robin looks at you sadly from across the room +Jealousy
You’re called up by Winter to demonstrate the pillory in front of the class, you hesitate to step up, but, remembering Leighton’s punishments, decide to risk it. Unfortunately, luck is not on your side, and Winter is called out while you’re still locked in the pillory. 
“Who thinks the lesson should continue?” Says a slight boy. He gets up from his seat and begins to saunter over, but Robin stands up, too, and blocks his path forward. 
“Stop,” he says, tone even and steady.
“Oh? And what’re you going to do about it?” The slight boy asks. Robin seems to falter for a moment, and the slight boy takes advantage, pushing past him and walking up behind you. You don’t see what happens next, but one moment Robin is in front of you, and the next, he’s gone. You hear a smacking noise behind you, and then a thud as if something had just hit the ground. The class looks incredulous. Winter walks back in. 
“Assaulting another student? I expected better from you, Robin,” he says. 
“Wait, I can explain–” 
“Detention.” 
The slight boy smacks your ass on the way back to his seat. 
+Trauma +Stress
You go to swimming, but your earlier run-in with acid leaves you unable to participate, so you just sit by the pool in your swimsuit until class is over. When you get back, you notice your underwear is missing. You put your clothes on over your swimsuit. It looks a little funny from the front, but it’s better than nothing.
Actually, you might start doing this more often. A swimsuit is tight and harder to get off, no one can unclasp your bra, you don’t have to change, and it’ll actually cover your boobs, even with the shirt unbuttoned. This is a great idea, you think to yourself, feeling a little proud. 
You start to walk to the front courtyard when your phone reminds you of your detention. Shit. You’d forgotten. At least Robin will be there with you? 
Sighing, you head back inside. 
“Keep writing, and don’t stop until I tell you to,” Leighton says. You glance at Robin, who’s working diligently. You decide to work hard, too. +Fatigue 
Robin asks to walk home with you, but you tell him you’re going to the park instead. He waves you off, but there’s a glint in his eye that wasn’t there before. +Jealousy
You go to the park and meet Avery, asking for help gathering Lichen. You tell him about your school project, and he offers to take you out for drinks. You don’t really want to get involved with him, but you’re a little afraid of refusing him.
>Go for drinks +Facination +Dominance +Love? >Refuse -Love +Lust +Rage
None of those options look good, but you remember the guide saying that negative love leads to more dangerous encounters. You take his hand, and the two of you go out. The place he picked is cute, and the employees there seem to recognize him. 
“Can I recommend you a drink?” He asks. “I think I know what you’ll like.” 
>Buy Avery’s recommendation +Facination +Dominance +Stress >Pick your own drink +Love -Stress -Dominance -Fascination -Endearment
You pick your own drink and the two of you find a quiet corner to sit down in. +Love -Stress -Dominance -Fascination -Endearment
Your phone buzzes. 
You’re on a date with Avery! How do you want to conduct yourself? >Act cute +Facination +Endearment >Act shy +Facination -Endearment >Act aloof --Endearment ++Lust  >Be natural -Facination +???
You choose to act natural, hoping he’ll lose interest in you. You don’t voice any complaints, but you don’t bother to hide your discomfort, either. You fidget, you avoid eye-contact, and you don’t listen when he speaks to you.
-Fascination --Endearment +Love
When the date is over, Avery looks annoyed. He doesn’t say anything to you as he walks you to the exit, though his hand still rests on the small of your back.
You go to the manhole next. You don’t really want to, but you want that lichen. Luckily, you encounter no problems getting it. But that says nothing about what happens after.
You’re accosted by a giant lizard. If the game hadn’t told you what it was, you would have thought it was a crocodile based on its sheer size alone. It attacks you from behind, and you struggle to get it off your back. It claws at your clothing, leaving it worse for wear, but you’re able to roll over onto your back. The lizard is pinned underneath you now, but you still can’t reach it. You roll over and feel your shirt rip, exposing your back. You reach into your bag and pull out your pepper spray, aiming for the lizard’s eyes. It scurries away, leaving you panting in the sewers. You get a good workout.
You want to leave, but you still need that Lichen. 
You crawl out of the sewers and head to the tailor, who offers to fix your clothes for £29.99. You accept and head to the office building, where you work as a temp for the next few hours, fighting through the exhaustion. You make £126.
You pass out on your way home and wake up in the hospital. Dr. Harper introduces himself and asks a few questions, but you leave out any details that could cause him to ask you to go to “therapy” with him. You’re discharged soon after, and Bailey picks you up.
“Don’t make me do this again,” he says. 
When you get home, it’s already past midnight. You don’t bother putting on Pajamas, just stripping and hopping under the covers. 
… 
……
………
You should’ve worn clothes, you think to yourself as you feel Kylar’s breath on your face. He’s hard; you can feel the outline of his penis through the blanket. You try to steady your breathing, too embarrassed to open your eyes. He shifts on top of you, and then lifts your blanket from your body. You react without thinking, immediately sitting up in a panic. You just barely avoid colliding with him. Your eyes meet his, and he looks down, getting a fully unobstructed view of your breasts. He flushes deeply and scrambles away. ++Lust
After taking a moment to collect yourself, you stand up to close your window. You notice that it doesn’t have a lock.
You put on pajamas before going back to bed this time and wonder if you can find some way to board it up. You close your eyes, but rest never comes. You’re too on edge. You roll in bed for hours, never relaxing enough to fall back asleep. When you finally give up, it’s already 06:00. You remember your idea from earlier, and decide to wear your swimsuit under your uniform today.
It is the 7th of September, 2022. -It has been 3 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn.  -It is autumn. -School term Finishes on Friday the 2nd of December. Current Funds: £454 Pain: You feel okay Arousal: You are cold Fatigue: You are fatigued Stress: You are strained Trauma: You are uneasy Control: You are insecure Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged
You decide to spend some time in the garden growing daisies. It’s relaxing. By the time you finish, your hands are covered in dirt, and it’s 07:30. You wash your hands and go to Robin’s room to play video games for the next half hour.
“This one’s a cooperative game,” he says. “It’s known for being really difficult.” 
“How do I play?” You ask, taking the controller. Robin leans over, wrapping an arm behind your back and taking your hands in his as he guides your hands to the correct positioning, fingers lingering over yours for a moment longer than necessary. You feel his breath on your skin as he walks you through the controls, his head over your shoulder and his arms still wrapped around you. +Lust
The two of you play for a little bit. Neither of you are very good, but you have a good time regardless. -Stress -Trauma
You and Robin are about to walk to school together when a car pulls up beside you. You brace yourself for the worst, but the window rolls down to reveal Avery instead. “I thought I recognized you,” he says, smiling warmly. “How about I give you a lift?” He glances dismissively at Robin.”Your little friend can come along, too.” Robin looks at you, clearly nervous. 
>Ride with Avery +Robin’s jealousy >Ride with Avery and Robin +??? >Walk with Robin -Love +Lust +Rage -Robin’s jealousy
You try to smile at Robin, but it comes out strained. You hop into the car with Avery. Robin reluctantly follows your lead. You try to act naturally, bringing Robin into the conversation whenever Avery ignores him. Robin seems happy you’re paying attention to him, but still extremely out of place. -Robin’s Jealousy +Robin’s love +Avery’s love -Avery’s Fascination 
Avery leaves, and you head to the library. Sydney isn’t there, so you study by yourself until it’s time to go to Science. A group of students pass by you in the halls; they leer at you but don’t say anything. 
Science, math, and English all pass by without incident, for once. You feel yourself begin to relax as you head to the canteen, only to jump when an arm wraps around your shoulders. You turn around. It’s Whitney.
“I’m hungry,” he says. “But I don’t want anything here. Come with us to get a snack.” Your sense of control wavers. Fearful of his intentions, you shove Whitney off of you and try to run, but he grabs your arm. Delinquents pull out their phones and circle around you. You lift the arm he’s holding and swing it to the side, using the created opportunity to elbow him with your unobstructed arm. He staggers and lets go of your arm, nearly falling but just barely managing to regain his balance. You rush to the least populated area of the circle and try to push past the delinquents, but they grab you and push you back in instead. 
You reach for your pepper spray but notice your backpack has been taken from you. You glance behind you, and sure enough, a group of students are rifling around your things. You lunge for them, but they toss it to the students across from them, playing keep-away. 
Whitney is glaring at you from the other side of the ring. He rushes you, and you fail to dodge. He pushes you to the ground, his friends scattering out of reach. You headbutt him on the way down, but he’s got your arms in a tight grip. You struggle against his hold, kicking and squirming under him. Whitney sits over you, straddling your waist and holding your arms in place beside your head. His face is inches from yours, and you can feel his heavy breath on your skin. 
You try to bridge him, but he’s too heavy. You’re quickly losing strength, and Whitney can tell your struggles are becoming weaker. “Just give up,” he says. “Or I might have to do something worse.” Your sense of control weakens. He leans down over you, rubbing his penis against your stomach. You freeze, a sense of cold, numbing dread overtaking you as Whitney climbs off of you. He offers a hand to help you up, and you, briefly forgetting your situation, take it. 
He pulls you up and into his arms with surprising strength, smirking at you as your noses brush. He releases your hand but still wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you from leaving. 
“Can I have my bag back?” You ask, hopefully. Whitney looks over your shoulder at the people rifling through your things. One of them reaches for the side zipper you keep your pepper spray in, and you freeze. 
“She’s got pepper spray!” The short boy exclaims. 
“Holy shit,” a lithe girl says. 
Whitney releases you from his grip on your waist but soon grabs your arm and forces it behind you. You move your left leg around his and plant it on the ground, then you twist yourself away from him until your arm is beside you again. You plant your other foot and lift your left, kicking him in the back of his knee. He falls, but you fall with him. He lets go when you land, and you roll over off of him, quickly standing. You kick him in the groin for good measure and then walk up to the delinquent, holding your backpack and pepper spray. You hold out your hand expectantly and hands it to you stiffly. +Status
You decide to skip lunch and go to the mall instead. You pick up a keychain with a latch and attach your pepper spray to it, hooking it onto your skirt’s belt loop. It took you a while to find the right kind of keychain, and by the time you’re back on campus, it’s already 13:06. +Deliquency
You quickly head into history class, where Winter takes note of your tardiness, and sit next to Robin. He notices your ruffled hair and asks if you’re okay. You smile at him as you take your seat, but he seems unconvinced. You spend the rest of History daydreaming. 
When you get to your swimming lesson, you don’t even have to get naked. Your swimsuit is already under your uniform, so all you have to do is take them off. Your injury yesterday has healed well enough to allow you into the pool, too, so you get to improve your swimming grade. It isn’t until after the lesson is over, and you emerge from the pool, dripping wet, that you realize the fatal flaw with your underwear idea. 
You have to put clothes on over your wet swimsuit. 
Not seeing any other viable option, you put your clothes on over your wet swimsuit. The fabric clings to your body, but it does that anyway. You leave the changing room and head to detention, trying to ignore the stares of your peers as they gawk at your see-through shirt (they can’t even see anything through it, you aren’t sure what they’re staring at.).
Detention only takes ten minutes, so you’re still able to walk home with Robin. He doesn’t say anything, but you catch him taking peeks at your chest every so often. +Love +Lust +Stress
You go to the temple after changing and pick up some pink lichen for your science fair project. 
You think about the last sample of lichen you need and wonder if a £500 prize is worth being molested by ghost tentacles. You wonder if £2,000 is worth being hunted with a vengeance every blood moon.
You do need the money…
——————— 
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gojomamashouse · 1 year ago
Text
Taking Care of You
Pairing: Mike Schmidt x babysitter!reader
Warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex (M receiving), breeding kink, praise kink, Fem!reader. Very minor mentions of injury & blood.
Description: He had never considered himself too fond of domestic life until you came into his house and made it feel like home.
A/N: crossposted on my Ao3 and Tumblr.
3.7k words
18+ content! Minors and ageless blogs dni!
Tumblr media
You remember the first time you came over to babysit for Mike all too clearly. You remember the way your eyes went wide when the door opened, and how your jaw nearly dropped to the floor. More importantly, you remember thinking that Mike Schmidt was far too hot for his own good, a clear image in your mind of how he had greeted you with tired eyes, messy hair, and a hand gripping the doorframe.
"Mr. Schmidt," you had blurted, ignorant to how his nose scrunched at the words leaving your mouth, "It's nice to—"
"Don't tell me I look that old?" His tired expression tried a smile, and you found yourself standing there, unable to formulate a proper response as you were already convinced you messed up the job before you even started. "Just Mike is fine.”
Back then, the only thing you knew about him was that he was hot, overworked, and clearly exhausted. So you did your best to make his life easier, even if those things were small, like cleaning all the dishes before he came home, tidying up all the clutter left behind on the table and kitchen counter. It wasn’t much, but you figured he could use whatever help he could get. He came home the first night, too tired to even notice before collapsing on the couch. Suppressing a giggle, you threw a blanket over his sleeping form, lingering a moment longer than you should have just to observe his face. Even in his sleep, you weren’t sure you could find even an ounce of peace in his expression.
Mike remembers the first week of your babysitting, when he returned home at some ungodly hour that Friday. While most babysitters in the past opted to lay on the couch, sleeping or watching TV, he had discovered that you preferred to be a bit more proactive. That night, in particular, he recalled your humming in the kitchen, rinsing the dishes before placing them in the dishwasher.
A strange feeling filled his chest at the sight, the smell of dinner still lingering and the radio playing some old song from his childhood. It was a feeling he shouldn't have been feeling towards the babysitter looking after his little sister. You had jumped when the floorboard creaked beneath himself shifting weight, still shy and jittery around him at the time.
“I didn’t see you come in,” your voice is still shaken from the scare. You turned to the oven, “Oh! I kept the food warm, in case you wanted some. Are you hungry?”
“No, no, I’m fine,” he said, blinking a bit to shake the thoughts from his head, “Ah, you don’t have to do all this, you know. The cooking and cleaning stuff.”
“I don’t mind. It’s not like I have anything else to do,” you returned your gaze to the dishes in the sink, “Besides, you work hard. It’s the least I can do. Just let me take care of it.”
Just let me take care of it.
A phrase he hadn’t yet forgotten, either. When was the last time anyone had taken care of anything for him? He’d taken on the role of being Abby’s caretaker the moment his parents were out of the picture. He had made countless sacrifices, dropping out of school to work full-time, losing his social life. His old friends preferring to go out partying rather than hang out with the guy who has a kid sister and a full-time job. Every day was work, only to mess up at work. Then go home, stress over a dirty home. Drive Abby to school, stress over her education and development.
He didn’t have it within himself to deny you, not when you were so kind and helpful. Even if the guilt ate away at him, reminding him how he couldn’t even afford to pay you close to what you deserved.
His eyes wandered to an image on the counter. There was himself, a familiar stickman with brown hair. There was Abby, of course, given the height difference. And then there was another figure, the hair undeniably similar to yours. All three figures were holding hands together inside a square home.
“What’s this?” He picked it up.
“Abby told me it’s us,” you had laughed, placing a dish in the dishwasher. “Cute, right?”
There was a thumping in his chest as he looked at you, before looking back down at the paper. All he could manage was a smile as he pinned it to the fridge.
You soon felt his presence at your side, his hand picking up another dish while you rinsed yours.
“Let me help with that,” he said.
You’ve fallen into a routine. Every day, when he returns home, he is met with the same thing. You, in the kitchen, humming. You, greeting him with a smile. You, sitting down to eat with him. You, always asking him about his day even though you know by now that he has nothing interesting to say. He prefers to hear you talk instead, to listen to you ramble about your shitty college professors and annoying roommates. He likes it like this. To be able to pretend that he’s not some deadbeat who can’t hold down a job to save his life or some traumatized freak haunted by the memories of his dead brother and parents. With you, he gets to pretend like he’s normal.
But, of course, just because he can pretend things are normal, doesn’t mean they are. Reality soon hits him when he’s sitting in his boss’s office, asking Mike for his badge and ID. It hits him when he’s driving home, remembering how he beat an innocent man, his knuckles still bloody as he grips the steering wheel tight. He walks through the front door, hearing you greet him from the kitchen, a sound that would have been music to his ears any other day.
“Mike?”
He doesn’t have the energy to reply. No, all he can do is walk over to the chair in the living room, sinking into it with a sigh. He loosens his tie and closes his eyes, trying to ignore the sound of dishes clattering in the sink followed by your footsteps against the hardwood floor.
“Hey, you okay?” Your voice is soft and gentle. His eyes shoot open when he feels your even softer touch against his forehead, laying the back of your palm flat. “You’re not sick, are you?”
In all the time you’ve been babysitting, neither of you had done so much as touch each other at all. The few times he could remember was how your fingers brushed when you reached for the same dish in the sink or the innocent hand you placed on his shoulder that one time you laughed so hard you couldn’t hold yourself up. He had always made sure to keep his hands firmly placed in his pockets or at his side. Now, you were touching his face, and he thinks that’s the first time anyone has touched him like that in years.
“Don’t worry about me.” He pleads, his body betraying his words when he leans into your touch, your hand drifting to caress his cheek, “You don’t have to.”
You ignore him, and your eyes scan over his form, before landing on his bloodied knuckles. A gasp escapes you, followed by the scolding of his name. He hears you stumble towards the bathroom, rummaging through whatever you can find and returning with a washcloth and disinfectant. You kneel beside him, cleaning the dried blood from his wounds and he winced from the sting of the alcohol.
“I know I don’t have to,” you finally break the silence. “I worry because I care.”
“Why?”
You avert your gaze.
“I just do.”
“That’s not a good enough answer.” He presses. There’s another pause.
“Because this feels like home.”
The answer is enough to render both of you silent, you out of humiliation, and him out of shock because he hadn’t realized you thought the same way.
You finish wiping the last bit of dried blood from his knuckles and there’s a lingering feeling left on his skin, where your fingers held his hands. Soft. Familiar. You’re still kneeling in front of him, but you’re wearing an expression he hadn’t seen since the first week he met you. It’s that look of shyness, the way you used to squirm under his gaze or shrink your presence out of fear of overstepping a boundary.
“Mike?”
“Yeah?
“Let me take care of you. Please?”
He knows it’s wrong. He knows that “messing around with the babysitter” has never been a good idea in the history of ever, but when he sees you gazing up at him like that, sitting on your knees between his legs, your eyes wide like that. Well, what the fuck else is he supposed to do?
The chair isn’t too high from the floor, so he easily finds himself at somewhat your level when he leans forward, his hand lifting your chin to look him in the eye. He pauses, analyzing your face just for a moment. Your lips are parted, so prettily, and your eyes are filled with a look of lust and desperation.
“Please,” you repeat, this time in a whisper.
Any semblance of self-restraint he had before was all lost the moment his lips met yours. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he was until he got a taste, a groan escaping his throat when he feels your tongue in his mouth. And you, you are so pliant. So eager to please. Still timid, hands hesitant as they rested on his knees, but so willing to let him handle you however he pleases, moaning when he tugs on your hair, whimpering when his hands grope your chest through your shirt.
“Quiet,” he mutters between kisses. You feel him pull away, the ghost of his lips at your ear, “we gotta be quiet, yeah?”
You nod, and he kisses your forehead, a tender change from his rough kisses shared only moments prior. He looks down at you, a flustered mess, but knows he must look the same. He couldn’t even remember the last time he let himself indulge like this. He feels your hand slither up his thigh, fumbling with his belt, groaning when you feel him through his jeans.
“You’ve had a long day, haven’t you?” You ask, looking up at him through your lashes as your hand dips into his boxers.
“You have no idea,” he says, his hand caressing the side of your face, making circles with his thumb against your cheek. He can feel your skin heat up under his touch. Your hand wraps around his hardening cock, and he has to stop himself from bucking into you. You’re just so gentle and sweet and he knows you’d let him take his frustration out but he just cannot allow himself to do that just yet— not without a little guilt.
“Then talk to me.”
“Got, ah, fired,” he chokes out, feeling your thumb swipe over his tip, gathering his pre-cum and helping you stroke up and down with more ease. “Was my fault, too.”
“You started a fight, didn’t you?”
“Something like that.”
He looks down at you, his cock now fully hard in your hand. He can’t hold but admire the sight, how you hungrily stare at him, or how you press your thighs together to relieve yourself of your own desires. He feels his breathing become heavier with each passing stroke of your hand on his dick, and he forces himself to look away, his hand that had previously been caressing the side of your head now digging his fingers into the back of your scalp.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do now,” he leans his head back, in an attempt to stop himself from busting in your hand before you’ve even done anything. He swears he’s not usually this sensitive, but the fact that it’s been so long, and the fact that it’s you, had him feeling like he was a teenager getting his first handjob all over again. He tries not to think about it. “I’m already behind on bills. I don’t think I can even pay you. Probably won’t even get another fucking job after what I did.”
“You don’t need to pay me.”
“You’ve got to stop saying shit like that,” he shakes his head, almost in disbelief. He looks down at you again, and you’re pressing your lips to kiss the underside of his dick, then kissing his tip. He shudders. “You’re too good for this. For me.”
He’s about to continue, but your lips wrap around him and he can’t think of anything. Curse words slip from his lips, feeling your tongue work around him, your hot mouth taking him. He still has his hand on the back of your head, tempting him to force your head down, but he’s more curious about whether you’d try to take him all yourself— which you do. He feels your throat contract around him as you try to push yourself down his cock, determined to take it all. Sometimes, you really were that predictable. Sure, you were a timid little thing, but you were equally if not more stubborn. He grips the back of your head to pull you off, a cough rising to your throat as you catch your breath and he smiles lazily.
Your quick to take him back in your mouth, and he cherishes the feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat, and your hands that reached for the base of him to stroke whatever you couldn’t take. He gives an experimental thrust and he’s in bliss when he hears you moan around him. And as much as he wishes he could do this forever, watching you take him in your mouth, he knows his own limits and he knows he won’t last any longer. Besides, he’s neglected your needs for far too long.
He pulls you off of his cock finally, tears stinging the corners of your eyes, your lips puffy from their earlier actions. Then, he’s lifting you to the couch, hovering over your form as your back hits the cushions. Mike is thankful that you chose to wear a skirt tonight because with your legs spread like this, he gets a full view of your white cotton underwear, as well as the wet patch your arousal has created. He brings his hand down between your legs, feeling you through the fabric. He can hear your breath hitch and he watches you bite down on your lower lip to suppress your noises. And as much as he wants to tell you not to, he is reminded by the fact that you are both doing this in the living room, and the last thing he wants to do is traumatize his little sister, who is sleeping a few doors down the hallway.
“Didn’t know you wanted me this bad,” he whispers, finally slipping his hand past the fabric barrier to gather your slick at his fingers and rub your clit with his thumb, his other fingers prodding at your hole but not yet entering.
“Wanted you for so long,” you admit, sucking in a breath when you feel his thumb circle around your clit again. “You’re really fucking hot.”
“Yeah?”
Two of his fingers finally sink into you and you’re gripping the fabric of his uniform at his shoulders. Rough, long and so much bigger than your own— you have to grit your teeth even harder to stop any sinful noises from escaping you.
“Always thought you were real pretty, too.” He continues, “You’re prettier right now, though.”
He continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, the wet sounds making you burn up in embarrassment. He’s obsessed with the way your eyes roll back, how your pretty lashes flutter open and closed, and how your hips buck to meet his rhythm.
“More, please,” you finally let out, your eyes going down to his cock, which was still very much hard. “Need you inside.”
You whimper at the emptiness you feel when his fingers leave, but quickly forget about it the moment your panties are removed and you feel his cock rub against your cunt, the tip resting at your entrance. You expect to feel him push in, only to see that he has paused.
“I don’t have any condoms,” he says, a pained look on his face. He had no reason to keep any around any more, not since providing for Abby had become his number one priority. He mentally kicked himself for it now.
“Mike,” you whine, trying to roll your hips up, but his hands remained firm against you, keeping you down. “I don’t care. Just pull out or something.”
You feel like a pathetic idiot for saying it, and he feels even more of one for considering it at all. All he can manage is a sigh. He’d already crossed so many lines tonight that he shouldn’t have. What difference would crossing one more be?
He hesitates before pushing in, but once he feels your tight walls around the head of his dick he can’t find it within himself to have any regrets. You’re so tight and warm and wet and he loves the way you stretch around him, gasping with every inch he gives you. He pauses when he’s buried at the hilt, mentally trying to cool himself down because the fact that he’s fucking you raw and you’re taking him so well is driving him mad.
“So good,” he coos, his hand on your face, thumb on your lower lip, “so fucking good.”
He pulls away until he’s nearly out again before thrusting into you fully, and he has to slam his hand over your mouth to stop the moan that would have escaped you. He continues to fuck you like this, slowly, and deeply, before it’s not enough, and he finds himself taking you faster, harder, wanting to see how much you were willing to take.
You feel every inch of him inside you, and you can’t help but clench around him every time the tip of his cock hits the spot inside you that you can’t reach with your own fingers. You feel so full and it’s everything and more that you’ve needed for so long.
He pushes up your shirt, revealing your cleavage. Your breasts are still covered by your bra, but he pinches your nipples through the lacy fabric anyway, content when he hears you make a sound, muffled by his other hand which remains on your mouth.
He can tell you’re close from the telltale sign of your pussy clenching harder, and how you start to freeze up, too fucked out to do anything else. He, too, starts to feel himself approaching his limit but knows he has to hold out long enough to let you reach your high first. He finally removes his hand from your mouth and uses it to rub your clit.
“Such a good girl,” he breathes.
“I’ll always be good for you,” you keep your voice a whisper, “Always waiting for you when you come home.”
Your words ignite a desire within him he never realizes he had. He had never considered himself too fond of domestic life until you came into his house and made it feel like home. Now, as he’s fucking you, the only thing he can think about is how deeply he wants to cum inside you, over and over again until he gives you another kid to take care of. He doesn’t care if he can’t afford it. He’ll pick up as many jobs as he can get just to take care of you.
He feels your back arch and your walls clench around him, immediately going to kiss you to swallow your cries. He ruts into you, over and over again and though there’s a sinful voice in the back of his head telling him to fill you up until he’s dripping out of you, he knows he should stay true to his promise to pull out. That is, until you tell him otherwise.
“You can do it inside,” you choke out, still fucked out from your orgasm, “I don’t mind—“
Before you can finish your sentence his hips come to a stop and he’s finishing inside you, as deep as he possibly can, as if to not waste a single drop. When he finally pulls out, he can’t help but watch in awe as his seed drips from your cunt down to your ass, ruining the couch cushions beneath you both. He tries not the think about the consequences that will bring. Instead, he’s pulling you close, catching his breath while laying his head against your stomach. Moments later, he feels your hand running your fingers through his hair and he sighs, leaning into your warmth.
“I don’t want you to be Abby’s babysitter anymore,” he starts, his voice hoarse and worn out. He can feel you tense up when he says it, before immediately continuing, “I want you to be my girlfriend.”
He hears you laugh.
“Does that mean I won’t get paid anymore?”
“I’ll repay you in other ways,” he flashes you a suggestive smile, earning him a snort and a flick on his forehead. Still, the guilt gnaws at him from within. “Seriously, though. I will. I’ll take care of you, too.”
He doesn’t care what job he picks up next. He’ll take any job in the world, so long as it means he can provide for you and Abby.
You wake up the next morning, the scent of pinewood and campfire surrounding you. You don’t remember exactly how, but you remember, after being fucked mercilessly, being carried to his room, cleaned up, and falling asleep in Mike’s bed. Now, you find the place next to you empty but can observe Mike standing at the door, speaking in a hushed voice while holding back the door.
You stand on shaky legs, still wobbly from your earlier affairs, approaching the argument.
“Abby, go away!”
“No! Let me—“
“What’s all this?” You interject.
Mike loses his grip on the door and Abby opens it wide. Her arms are crossed, adorning a frown while Mike is bringing his hands to his face.
“Abby, I can explain—“
“Why didn’t you tell me you guys were having a sleepover?” She fumes, “We could have built a pillow fort!”
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