#what a waste of my time but whatever. at least I didn’t waste any money

[dyoreos]

That moment when you go on date and he surprises you with roses. He asks if it’s okay to hold hands, opens doors and walks on the outer part of sidewalk, and talks about plans for the next date. But surprise surprise! More surprises: After the date, he tells you that he doesn’t think it’ll work out and the two of you should just be friends😥Bittersweet.

[sp0o0kylights]

There were a lot of things Mike hated in life.

The demogorgon, and how it had essentially destroyed his life.

 Brenner, and the madhouse laboratory El had survived. 

How each and every one of his friends now did something weird--were weird, because flashing lights or fireworks or some stupid tune a toy horse played dragged up memories that made their eyes flat and faces hollow. 

Most of all though, Mike hated how much they relied on Steve.

There was no reason he should be the person to call when it started pouring and no one wanted to bike home from AV. 

Steve wasn’t Nancy, or Jonathan, or a parent--he wasn’t even dating anyone related to any of the Party anymore so what excuse did he have to keep hanging around? 

(Even if Jonathan was always working, and Nancy was always busy with some club or homework, and everyone’s parents all seemed to be in a race of who could get back to normal the fastest…) 

They should at least try to get a hold of other people, instead of constantly going to Steve first.

“Why?” Dusitn had scoffed at him the last time this had happened, feeding quarters into a phone and staring at Mike like he was the one being unreasonable. “I’m not gonna waste money just to hear your sister tell us no again when we all know Steve will do it.” 

Which was perhaps the most infuriating part of it all.

That Steve would do it. 

Show up and help them, even if he bitched the whole time. 

Hell, Steve Harrington knew more about Mike’s life offhand than Nancy did, and that made him want to punch a wall more days than it didn’t. Why the hell was Steve so involved? 

It was stupid. 

Weird, even! They weren’t friends, (even if Dustin and Max and El of all people said the opposite) he wasn’t being paid to babysit, (Mike had double checked; going round to ask Ma Henderson and Mrs. Sinclair, only to get an earful of how wonderful Steve was from both.) he had no reason to hang around! 

It didn’t make sense that Steve could be harassed into picking them up from school. 

Would take them to get ice cream, or hand over extra quarters for the arcade. He even gave out advice like some kind of--brother that Mike had never wanted. 

Above all?

Mike hated that when he needed someone, the number he punched in on automatic was Steve’s.

“I need you to come get me.” He said into the receiver, mad at himself and the world, but mostly mad that beyond the normal amount of squawking Steve did, he shut up and came. 

Drove up in his rich boy car, stepping out and herding Mike into it like the rain hadn’t already seeped into his bones. 

“You wanna tell me why you snuck into a bar two towns over?” Steve asked, long after Mike had slung himself into the passenger seat, arms crossed defensively over his chest.

“No.” 

One of Steve’s hands went right to his hair, running through it before adjusting the mess he’d just made. 

It was a nervous habit, and Mike hated that he knew that too. 

“Okay, well.” Steve’s hand fell back to the steering wheel, clenching tight around it. “Next time you want to do something dumb could you at least come talk to me about it beforehand?”

“What the hell would that do?” Mike bitched, staring firmly out of the window. 

“Not waste my gas for starters.” Steve bitched right back. “But I dunno man, we could have taken some bats and gone and wailed on cars in the junkyard and talked or some shit, not--whatever this all was.”

‘This all’ was accompanied by a wave of his hand, indicating not just the bar Mike had been standing in front of, but his general sopping wet state. 

“You’d actually go to the junkyard with me?” Mike challenged, doubtful. 

Steve made a face. “Did you lose your hearing in there? I just said--.” 

“Why?” Mike interrupted. “Why the fuck would you come out with me?”

Matching his entire aggressive tone, Steve said; “Because it’s better than trying to sneak into the one local gay bar when you’re barely fourteen, Michael.” 

And that? 

Steve being oddly aware of shit he really shouldn’t have?

Mike hated that too. 

“You knew what the bar was?” He asked, his voice coming out much smaller than he intended. 

“Everyone knows what that bar is, except it’s more of a biker bar than a gay bar.” Steve shot back--which did actually explain about ten different questions Mike had about the place. “Also, language you little shit.” 

Under his breath, Steve continued in a muttered; “I swear I’m going to start carrying around soap.”

“You cuss more than we do.” Mike responded, and if his own voice was a little strangled as he fought back the sudden swell of tears, then that was between him and God. 

He was not crying in front of Steve Harrington, he outright refused. 

“The point I’m making is that there are way better bars to sneak into. That one’s not nearly as welcoming as people make it out to be, probably because they’re sick of all the rumors.” 

Steve seemed to realize what he was implying because he quickly added; “Not that you should be sneaking into any bars at all!” 

“You’re not my mom.” Mike’s voice turned wet as he lost his battle with his throat, voice cracking as he failed to choke the tears back.  

“No shit Wheeler.”  Steve said, and at least he was good enough not to call attention to Mike’s crying. 

If he had, Mike was pretty sure he’d just up and die of embarrassment, right there. 

“I don’t get why you care.” He muttered, angrily swiping at his eyes. 

“I didn’t keep you alive this long just so you could die of something stupid.” Steve countered easily.

Which was kinda fair, if you thought about it.

Mike very much did not want to think about it. 

Any of it.

Ever. 

“Are you gonna tell my parents?” He asked after a painfully long moment. 

Long enough that Steve had begun fiddling with the radio, trying to find a station as they drove back that wasn’t wailing country or gospel music. 

“I’m not a narc, so no.”  

“Not about the bar.”  

Now Steve just looked confused. 

Probably because he was, because he was without a doubt the stupidest almost adult Mike knew. 

(Not that he could say that out loud--last time he had, Max had made one of her pissy faces and then El got mad because Max was, which led to a break up, which led to Mike having to beg his way back into his girlfriend’s good graces while explaining that he hadn’t meant it like that.

“How did you mean it then?” Max demanded, and Mike wasn’t sure how he managed to dodge that entire conversation but he had, on grounds that untangling his own emotions regarding stupid Steve made him want to pull his hair out and scream.) 

“What about then?” 

 “You know. Don’t make me say it.” Mike absolutely didn’t plead, even if it did sort of, kind of, sound like pleading. 

Steve flicked his eyes away from the road to give one long, weird look at Mike. The same one he gave Dustin when he went off on a rant about Cerebro or Lucas when he started discussing the stats of different D&D weapons. 

Unlike those times, Steve’s face cleared. 

“Oh.” He said, blinking, and Mike could practically see the light bulb flash above his head.

Then; 

“Nah.” 

Mike waited.

And waited.

And kept waiting as Steve went back to searching through radio channels, as if that was the end of the conversation.

It couldn't be the end of this conversation.

Not when this was the part that was eating Mike alive.

He didn’t know if this was Steve repressing it on purpose or if this was what he had to look forward to for the rest of his life if he kept trying to figure his own head out, but either way, he knew he had a choice to make. 

To let the unspoken part of today die quietly. Go unsaid, and remain unsaid, for all eternity--or he could let it out. 

Shove the “gay” part of “gay bar” in Steve’s stupid, jock face. 

Make him acknowledge it, even if it got Mike kicked out of the car, and who cared if it did? 

Steve wasn’t the person who should have picked him up anyway. 

The anger climbed higher and higher in his chest, tears and rage combining until Mike spat it all out, furious. 

“You’re not going to ask if I’m gay?”  

Steve didn’t turn to face him, but Mike saw his eyebrow cocking anyway, given how he was currently glaring a hole in the side of the older teen’s head. 

“Do you want me to?” 

“No.” Mike bit out automatically. “Yes. I don’t know!” 

Steve’s hand found its way back into his hair. 

“Okay then.” Steve paused, clearly fishing for something to say. 

Gleefully, Mike watched him struggle. 

“Do you like guys?” He managed finally, looking like he was navigating a minefield more than just talking.

“I don’t know.” Mike stressed, sinking lower in his seat. “Why do you think I was at the bar? I was trying to figure it out!” 

“Honestly I assumed this was some sort of stupid dare--but!” Steve held up a finger, before Mike could interrupt, “But let’s--shit, hold on, I had a speech for this but I kinda wasn’t expecting to use it this soon. Um.”

“You have a speech for me being gay?”

“Not for you.” Steve rolled his eyes. “For--in general! It was an in general, just in case speech!” 

He rounded on Mike, for longer than the younger was comfortable with given Steve took his eyes off the road to do it. “Okay--you can like boobies, you can like, uh--not boobies, and that’s fine! It’s all totally fine!” 

“You are not making it sound like it’s fine.” Mike said, feeling like he’d been taken out by hearing Steve say the word “boobies.” 

Gross, gross, gross. 

“Well it is.” Steve said, in a tone that felt like he was two seconds from adding in a smarmy ‘so there!’ at the end. 

“But I’m dating El.” Mike whined, which really, was both the heart of the matter and the eye of the storm that had been growing in his head for months now. “I can’t be gay if I like her.” 

“Don’t you guys break up and get together like four times a week?”

“No, that's Max and Lucas, El and I are stable.” Mike scoffed. “Or we--we were stable.” 

Before he started to have thoughts about people that weren't his girlfriend. 

Or women.

“Stable for being in middle school, sure.” Steve snorted. “You don’t just have to like one or the other you know. You can like dudes and chicks at the same time.”

Which Mike did not know, on account of being fourteen. 

He did his absolute damndest not to show that realization, instead adding that to the list of reasons why he hated Steve Harrington too.

Steve shouldn't be the one teaching him about who you could like!

“The point is that who you end up loving isn’t a problem.” Steve finally looked back to the road. “Other people might be an issue, and those people we can punch in the face so long as the cops aren’t looking, which isn’t part of the speech so let’s not tell people I said that part, but whatever you do choose, there’s nothing wrong with you.” 

Steve’s voice went firm, as he apparently recalled his speech or something close enough to it because his next words sounded a little rehearsed. “You have people who are here for you, no matter what. Okay?” 

Oh God, Mike was crying again. 

He wanted to punch Steve in his stupid face.

Wanted to hold onto the fury he'd built inside himself. Thrash around, throw himself out of the car, get away from the emotions that felt too big for his chest to contain. 

Instead he felt it all break on Steve's acceptance. On word's he didn't know he needed to hear until they'd been spoken, and sniffed out a quiet; “Okay.” 

Steve of course had to take it too far by reaching over and patting his knee, which they both regretted judging by how quickly Steve took his hand back and the face Mike made at his hand--but it…

It was appreciated, even amongst all Mike's rage.

Steve was appreciated. 

Not that Mike would ever, on pain of death, tell him that. 

Neither said a word for a while, Steve finally landing on a radio that was playing some Top 40 hit, Tears for Fears singing about ruling the world while Mike found himself trying to rebuild his own once again, tired of it having shattered so many times over. 

At least he finally felt better, even if he refused to admit Steve was the reason for it. 

He wasn’t quite done though.

 There was a piece Steve had skipped over, that Mike felt was critically important, if only because it was partly the reason he was having thoughts about being gay in the first place. 

He had to know if Steve saw it too. 

That it wasn’t just him and his stupid head, making up things that weren’t there. 

“Hey Steve?” 

“Yeah?”

“Who was the speech for?” 

Steve sighed. 

“Rule one of the whole queer thing Wheeler, you don’t out other people.” 

Like there were written rules or something.

(Maybe there were, it wasn't like Mike knew.)

“Was it Will?” Mike asked, and pretended like he didn’t desperately want the answer to be yes. 

 Steve didn’t say a thing, but the fact he nearly took the car off the road was a pretty solid answer in itself. 

“We’re not playing guessing games about other people’s sexualites!” He yelped, hands gripping the steering wheel as Mike felt a wave of relief crash through him. 

Will was--maybe, possibly, also--queer too. 

Which didn’t make this any better but it--wasn’t the not preferred outcome, either. 

(It wasn’t just Mike struggling alone, trying to figure out if his best friend wanted to be more than that, if El was breaking up with him and more and more because she wanted to be less than a girlfriend, if things were changing and he would have no one--) 

“I’m not out here picking Will up from a gay bar dipshit, I’m picking you up, and this is your reminder that next time, you should just come talk to me!” Steve ranted. 

Mike snorted.

He absolutely hated Steve Harrington, but--

“Fine.” He said, talking so low he could barely be heard. “I will.”

--maybe Mike did have someone in his corner after all. 

Even if it was just Steve. 

xXx

Bonus: 

“Between you and me, that kid is gayer than a two dollar bill.” 

“Wow Robin,” Steve teased, “Isn’t that like, a slur or whatever?” 

He snickered when she rolled her eyes and threw a roll of stickers his way. 

“I’m just saying. Did you see the way he was looking at you when you were showing off your stupid biceps?” Robin said, nudging her shoulder into Steve’s. “Will’s gonna have a rude awakening later if he hasn’t already.” 

Steve nudged her back, but kept his gaze on the Party as they trooped their way from Family Video to the arcade next door, the realization that they now had connections for free rentals making them downright gleeful. 

Will was the last one in, and Steve watched him hurry so as to not be left behind. 

He didn’t like to worry about the dipshits, but Robin was just putting voice to a thought Steve knew he wasn’t the first person to have.

And if he noticed it, then it didn't exactly bode well as being kept a secret. 

“Should we like…talk to him about that?” He asked after a long moment, turning to face Robin.

“Us?” She pointed at herself, before turning her finger on Steve. “Why us?” 

“Well you’re into girls.” He gave her a pointed look, glad that the store was empty of everyone but them so he could actually voice all this. “And I’m fine with it.”

“Yeah I’m sure he wants to know you’re fine with it.” Robin taunted, but she had her thinking face on, eyes out to the middle distance. “I barely know him. You barely know him--he’s the quietest out of all your kids.”

“They’re not my kids.” Steve argued automatically. “They're like a weird cross between shitty siblings and that kid in your class who never leaves you alone.” 

A fact Steve no longer took for granted, even if he made it sound like the worst thing ever.

“I just think it’d be nice if he knew that he had people in his corner, you know? Who supported him and shit.” 

“Steve, you compared my crush to a muppet, that wasn’t supportive.” Robin countered, but it too was on automatic. 

Softer she admitted; “You’re right though. If I had known other queer people, if I had known people would accept me...it would have made things a lot easier.”

A very long pause, in which both of them stewed for a moment, before Robin abruptly slapped her hand down on the table.

“Okay, you got me. We're doing it, and I'm making us a speech.”

“A speech?” 

“Yes dingus, a speech. I know you, you’re terrible when you’re put on the spot with this kinda thing, and trust me with things like this the moment will be spontaneous.”

“It’s Will, how spontaneous can it be?” Steve challenged back. “Getting a dinner order out of him is a chore.” 

“Stop whining and hand me that notepad. Im telling you its gonna happen when you least expect it and then you're gonna thank me later.”

“It better not happen without you.”  Steve sighed, but passed the notepad over.

God the things he did for those stupid kids. 

Bonus x2

Steve would later go on to use the speech on himself, in a gas station bathroom mirror, eyes wide and freaked out after Eddie Munson called him Big Boy in a van they stole, while Robin snickered behind him. 

He would turn on her, snapping that she; “Help me with this dammit!” 

In return she’d remind him that Tammy might sing like a muppet but Eddie  was the guy who stepped on lunches while giving speeches at lunch and sticking his tongue out, and “Really Steve, I think I won best gay awakening, here.” 

Which would promptly start an argument regarding how it wasn’t a competition, which would continue for another fifteen or so odd years before finding its way as a reference into both of their speeches as each other’s best man. 

Nancy and Eddie wouldn’t get it at either wedding, but Mike would.

[poeticandors]

Soft Touches

Steve Harrington x F!Reader

Part 1 of the TOUCH series

Summary: You and Steve Harrington have been friends for so long, and he finds out that you have never once pleasured yourself. He takes it upon himself to help you learn just how to do so.

WARNINGS: 18+ Content (Minors DNI), sexual language, sexual content, masturbation (Female with male assistance), fingering, cursing

Not my GIF

The hand on the clock seemed to be moving slower and slower the longer you stare at it. There were only a few minutes left until your shift ended, but you had been counting down the seconds the moment you clocked in to work. Did you hate your job? Not necessarily, it gave you money you needed for school and rent, but it wasn’t the greatest. From a not so great manager, to asshole customers, it was hard to actually want to be at the video store.

“Enjoy your movie, have a nice night.” 

You glance over to the counter, seeing your coworker and friend, Steve, hand over some change and a video to a customer. It was actually Steve who helped you get this job. Not that you needed the help since everyone who comes in practically gets hired on the spot, but you still appreciated him doing so. 

The man quickly takes the video from Steve, and you happen to notice the slight flush on his cheeks as he tries keeping the cover of the box hidden against his chest while walking out of the store. Thinking nothing of it, you turn back to your task of reorganizing the shelves.

“Jesus, this is the fourth time that guy has rented that fuckin’ movie.” Steve shakes his head, stretching his arms up.

“What movie was it?” You ask, returning video cases back to their original spots on the shelves.

“A fuckin’ porno, that’s what. He’s come in four times in the last few weeks to renew his rental on that same one!” 

“Gross,” you scoff, finishing up with your task before walking over to the counter. “Remind me to disinfect that when he brings it back.”

“I mean, watch whatever porn you want, but at least broaden your horizons, or whatever shit it is they say.”

“You act like you’ve watched those films before.” 

“Yeah? Haven’t you? Oh, wait–I forgot you’re a little prude,” Steve teases as he ruffles your hair.

“Asshole,” you huff, trying to ignore the comment. 

While you wouldn’t call yourself a prude, you were definitely inexperienced when it came to sexual intimacy. Not that you didn’t want to have sex, you just… never found the right person. It didn’t bother you one bit when people came in to rent those types of films. You just never found any interest in doing so, plus you wouldn’t know what to do while watching one. It just seemed like a waste of time. 

“So?”

“So what?” You look at Steve as he leans across the counter, now eye level with you. 

“Have you watched porn before?” 

The question catches you off guard a bit. In reality, it shouldn’t because it was coming from Steve, and after knowing him for years he could sometimes be a bit blunt and straight to the point. No, it catches you off guard because of the way Steve looks at you. The way his brown eyes bore into yours as he patiently waits for you to answer the seemingly intimate question. It’s as if he truly wants to know your answer and isn’t just teasing.

It wouldn’t be the first time Steve has asked you questions like this one. He knows that you haven’t had much experience. Knows that you’ve been on a few dates with guys who were total douchebags, but never went any further than a kiss or two, maybe even a feel up here or there. He never fully judged you, though. Teased you, yes a little, but never outright judged you for your lack of experience.

He’s also told you about his past endeavors, however. Never too much detail unless you asked which, sometimes you would. He would answer every single question you had without an ounce of judgment. With Steve, it was easy to talk with him.    

You become nervous, suddenly aware of just how long he’s been staring at you while you try to come up with the words to respond. 

“I, uh… huh?” 

“Have you… watched porn before?” He asks, articulating each word slowly as he repeats the question. 

It takes you a moment to realize how close his face is to yours, his nose mere inches away from your own. If you truly wanted to, you could easily press your lips to his. But you wouldn’t do that.

You couldn’t do that. 

“...No. No, I’ve never watched… porn before.” Your voice comes out almost as quiet as a whisper. 

Steve scans your face and is quiet for another few seconds, before he pushes off the counter. You trail him as he flips the ‘open’ sign over to ‘closed’, before making his way towards you, and taking your hand. The action shocks you, even though it shouldn’t. You’ve held hands with Steve before in a playful manner and it has never once felt strange to you. For some reason, this feels different. “Steve, where–”

“We’re just going for a stroll past the beads,” he answers nonchalantly, pulling you along towards the backroom. 

Your eyes widen, and you try pulling from his grasp. “Steve, seriously–”

“You don’t have to rent any of them. We’re just going to take a look, babe.” 

Babe, honey, sugar… You’ve heard practically every pet name come out of Steve’s mouth. It was just how he talked with you, and you never took any of it seriously. 

The beads lightly clink against each other as Steve pushes them away, and you’re now left standing in the small room with shelves filled up with the raunchy films. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t ever been in here before, it was part of your job to put the films back, take inventory, and make sure that it was organized correctly. 

“Steve, seriously. What are we doing back here?” 

“Just here for a look. 

“I come in here to organize, I know what it looks like–” 

“No, we’re actually going to look, honey. Not just quick glances, and not for work.” 

“But why? I don’t watch any of these–”

“Exactly. Now you’re catching on,” he grins, letting go of your hand as he reaches for two videos. “What do you think you would be into more?”

“Damn it, Steve, we need to get out of here before someone comes in.”

“No one is going to come in here. We’re closed now, remember? I flipped the sign.” He motions with one of the videos in his hands. 

He was right. Technically, you were closed as of… five minutes ago. Plus, it wouldn’t be weird if two employees were in this room. You really just wanted to hurry and leave and not think about how close you are to Steve in this small room and the fact you can smell his shampoo while surrounded by a bunch of porn films. 

But why should those details matter? You’ve definitely been close to Steve multiple times and never have you once felt this awkward. There were nights after a party that Steve would be so drunk you would have to help him get out of his clothes and since he only slept in a single pair of pajama pants, you’ve definitely gotten an idea of what he has to offer to other girls. You’ve shared beds when you would stay the night after those same parties, too. Not to mention, he literally spends most days being clingy with you–keeping his arm around your shoulders or little touches here and there. Big bear hugs and small kisses on the cheek or temple were normal because you were friends, and friends did that sort of thing, didn’t they?

“So? Take a look at these two. Honestly, I feel like this would be right up your alley.”

“And how would you know?”

“Because I know what you like,” he shrugs. 

“That’s bullshit. Even I don’t know what I like, Steve.” 

“Oh, come on,” he places the videos back on the shelf before turning back to face you. “I know you don’t watch porn, but you must have an idea on what you like. Right?” 

You stay quiet for a moment. The truth was, you did not know what you liked. You never once tried getting yourself off, mostly due to the fact you were nervous you would do it all wrong. Steve leans against the shelf with his arms crossed and head tilted slightly as he waits for an answer.

“...Holy shit,” Steve lets out a small laugh. “Seriously? You’ve never masturbated before?”

“Steve–”

“I mean, I knew you never had sex, but I at least didn’t think you were that much of a prude to not get yourself off.” Steve snickers, but you don’t react in a way he probably thought you would have. 

Jaw tight, you shake your head as you take a step back. “I’m leaving. You can lock up, Steve.” 

He calls your name as you swing the beads out of your way and storm out of the room. Heading to the back, you grab your bag and keys from your locker before slamming it shut, and leaving. You continue to ignore him as he calls for you, walking straight to your car, and throwing your stuff in the back before getting in and driving off. 

You don’t even know why you’re so upset, you should be used to Steve’s teasing by now. Something just set you off this time, and you weren’t sure what that was. Whatever. You would have a nice relaxing day at home, considering your family just went out of town and you have the day off tomorrow. This would give you time to be alone with your thoughts, and forget about what just happened with Steve Harrington. 

Or, so you thought. 

++++++++++

It felt nice having the house to yourself. While you still lived at home, you agreed with your family to pay rent until you found a place of your own since you were in college now. It seemed a fair trade… you guess, but there were times you would be lucky to have the house to yourself such as tonight. Your plans for tonight consisted of dinner, a good book, and perhaps a movie if you were feeling up for it. 

Your phone kept going off the moment you arrived at home, and you absolutely knew it was Steve trying to get your attention. He hated when you wouldn’t talk with him, and was almost always the first person to cave and vye for your attention, considering you were one of his closest friends. You ignored each and every call, almost deciding to unplug the damn thing just so you could get some peace and quiet. After a while, the ringing eventually stopped, and you were grateful that Steve finally decided to take the hint. 

Lying on your stomach while in bed with your feet propped up, wearing an oversized shirt and pajama shorts, you flipped through the pages one by one through your current book. With your walkman on and music blasting through your headphones, you almost didn’t notice the sound of your window scraping as it lifted, and you quickly gasp as you see a figure standing in the dark. Steve stumbles inside, catching himself before he hits the ground as you stare at him, yanking your headphones off. 

“Steve, what the hell?” You huff, as he fixes your window sill and closes the window. 

“You weren’t answering your phone. I got worried.” He dusts himself off, before looking around your room. He strolls along the carpet, acting as if he had never stepped foot once in his life when in reality, he is here almost every week. “Parents not home?” 

“No, and I didn’t answer the phone because I didn’t want to talk to you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves you off, plopping on the bed next to you as he snatches your book away. “So this is what you are spending your night alone doing, hm?” 

“Give it back–” 

You try reaching for it, only for him to hold it further away. Letting out an annoyed breath, you lightly shove his arm. 

“This is boring. You could be watching a movie or something.”

“I was planning on doing that after I finished this chapter, thank you very much.” You pause, looking at him. “Steve, what are you doing here?” 

“I told you. I got worried when you weren’t answering your phone. Plus, I wanted to hang out. I brought a few things for us to do.”

Before you can ask, he tosses your book onto the floor before reaching down into his backpack. He pulls out a few of your favorite snacks, along with a few movies from Family Video. Frowning, you look at him as he grins. “Movie night.” 

He tosses the movies in front of you as you freeze. You recognize them as the two Steve had picked out from the backroom, along with a third. Glancing up at Steve, you hand them back.

“Very funny, Steve,” you huff, looking away from them.

“Just hear me out before you kick me to the curb, sweetheart,” he kneels in front of you, taking your hands. “Look, I know I was a dick for what I said back at the store. You can hate me all you want, I don’t blame you. But… I had an idea that I think you might like.” 

“If you’re going to suggest watching these films–”

“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting. Damn, you must be a mind reader or something, huh? Get out of my head.” He grins. 

You shake your head. “You’re insane–”

“Look, all I am saying is to just watch at least one. Broaden your horizons and shit, remember? Maybe this will help you get laid or something.” 

“Jesus, Steve.” 

“Listen. You don’t have to do anything. It’s just a movie, and I can sit and watch it with you, okay? Maybe this can help you come up with some fantasies or something later after I’m gone. Get you in the mood.” He bounces his shoulders up and down as he winks.

“Let me get this straight. You want me to just sit and watch one of these movies to… come up with fantasies?” 

“...Yep, exactly!”

“Fantasies to do what, though?”

“To get off, of course. So you can make yourself feel good.” 

Your throat becomes tight, and it’s almost as if you have forgotten how to breathe just for a moment. Steve wanted you to watch a porno just so you could pleasure yourself. The look in his eyes tells you that he is completely serious, and is being sincere. Why he was doing this, you didn’t really know the answer to that yet other than he claims he wants you to feel good.

Clearing your throat, you look away. “And… What are you going to be doing while we watch this?”

“Sit next to you and watch along, eat some popcorn,” he shrugs. “We’ll just be watching it, nothing more.” 

He takes his spot back next to you, as you glance at him. “So? What do you say? I’ll pop the movie in and we can sit back and relax. If you get uncomfortable and don’t want to continue, I’ll turn it right off, and we can do whatever you want. Sound good?”

He’s saying all of this as if he just asked to watch a regular movie instead of a porno. Like it was the most casual thing in the world to ask and that you weren’t absolutely mortified at the idea. 

“…You promise we can turn it off?”

“Scouts honor, babe,” he holds one hand over his heart while raising the other.

Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you finally agree with a slight tilt of your head, and Steve grins. 

“Alright, I’ll put it on. You just sit and relax— wait. Which one do you want to watch?” 

The excitement in his voice isn’t hard to miss, and you find yourself biting back a small smile. 

“Whichever one you think looks best, Steve,” you scoot back against your headrest, as Steve grabs one of the videos and fumbles with the VHS player. 

You couldn’t believe you actually agreed to this. What were you thinking? Watching a porno and with Steve, nonetheless. Steve grabs the remote and plops right next to you, your arms brushing together as he gets comfortable. 

The movie starts, and your room soon fills with horrible jazz music that is supposed to be sexy. You scrunch your nose, but lean back as you watch the first scene play out. The main woman comes out wearing nothing but a robe which is left open, revealing her perky breasts, and she bends down to rub lotion along her long legs. You cross your arms across your chest, suddenly realizing that you discarded your bra the moment you came home.

If Steve notices, he doesn’t say anything. He’s kept his eyes on the screen, and you can’t tell if he is just bored or trying to keep his cool. You don’t realize you’re watching him until he looks down at you, and you quickly turn your attention back to the screen. 

“You might want to pay attention to this part,” he comments, as you look back at him.

“What for?”

“Because this is the scene where she touches herself.”

“…Have you seen this?” 

“I mean, just this first part. I wanted to see if you might like it, first.”

He takes his finger and turns your cheek back so you’re facing the screen again. On it, you watch as the woman drops the robe to the ground, settling onto the bed as her manicured hands roam along her body, squeezing her breasts and sliding up and down her torso. After an anticipating few minutes, she finally trails her hand down between her legs, her fingers slowly teasing her folds for a moment before going back up to her neck, while the other hand brushes just under her breasts. 

Your breath hitches slightly, and you find yourself entranced as you watch her pleasure herself with just her hands. Could you really just sit and do that to yourself? Your mind wanders at the possibilities, and you find yourself extremely sensitive to everything surrounding you. The moans released from the woman go straight to your core, sending a shiver throughout your entire body. You are aware of the way your nipples tighten, brushing just barely against the fabric of your shirt– of one of Steve’s shirts that you borrowed long ago and never bothered to return. You try ignoring the slight moisture that builds up between your thighs, and try straightening your legs to cross them over one another, which only seems to heighten the feeling.

Not only that, but it suddenly dawns on you how close Steve is to you. His arm stays pressed against you, a warm and familiar sensation that you never thought anything of before. His breathing stays even, that much you can tell even as he watches this scene play on. The scent of his soap surrounds you both, and you realize he must’ve taken a shower first before coming to see you. 

“See that? See how she uses her fingers?” He says after a moment, and your eyes stay on the screen of your television. “You can do that too, you know. You can do that to figure out what you like.”

“Mmhm…” you respond, not trusting yourself to use actual words. 

“...Do you want to try?” 

You quickly turned to face him, seeing his eyes directly staring into yours. “Wh-what?”

“Do you want to try touching yourself?” He repeats, his voice now a low timbre. 

“...Steve, I don’t think–” 

“I don’t care if you do. This is all for you. So you can make yourself feel good.” He continues looking down at you, and for a moment you think he glances down to your lips before moving back to your eyes. “If you don’t want to, you can say no.”

You swallow thickly, trying to ignore the way his words send tingles throughout your entire body. There he goes again, saying this is to help you feel good. For someone else, they might think that was just a way for Steve to get to see their tits. But to you… you really do believe he is not truly pressuring you and being sincere in trying to help you give yourself some sort of pleasure and excitement. 

So, you only halfway catch yourself by surprise when you agree with a small nod. 

“Alright, come here.” 

Steve shifts over, moving you to sit in front of him, his legs on either side of you as he pulls you to lie back against his firm chest. Again, this isn’t something new to you both. You’ve sat in this position before watching movies, usually with Steve massaging your shoulders or even when you just needed to hug, and he would be willing to hold you close like this. 

This, however, seemed so much more intimate. 

He gently runs his hands soothingly up and down your arms, as if sensing your nerves and trying to help you relax. You feel the rise and fall of his chest as you lean back against him, and the warmth of his breath as he exhales each time. 

“This okay?” He asks, his voice soft, and you respond with a nod. “Good. Whenever you feel like you want to touch yourself, go ahead. I won’t do anything but sit here, okay? I promise.” 

You don’t realize just how dry your mouth is until you try to speak, only for you to find yourself unable to. Trying again, you clear your throat and lick your dry lips. 

“Where, uh… I don’t… what should I do?” 

“Whatever feels good to you, honey.” 

“But, what if I don’t know what feels good to me?” 

Steve pauses for a moment, before he slowly reaches down for your hands, and brings them up. “For starters… you can just run your hands along your body.” 

He takes one of your hands and places it up by your neck, making sure your fingers lightly brush your skin before placing the other along your torso just under your breasts, and pulls his hands away as you leave them there. “Take it nice and slow. Barely brush your skin with your fingers and slowly make your way down.” 

With your throat tight and heavy, slowly begin moving your hands around almost awkwardly. It was almost hard to feel good when you were pretty much touching over your shirt. Sure, with a faint brush against your nipples it did sort of feel good, but it was nothing compared to what the woman on screen was probably feeling. You become almost frustrated, and drop your head back against Steve’s shoulder. 

“It’s not working.” 

“That’s because you’re thinking too much. Don’t think, just touch yourself.” Steve rubs your shoulders, trying to loosen the tension building up. 

“It’s hard to do so when this shirt is in the way,” you huff, closing your eyes. 

“Then take it off.” 

Sometimes, you just cannot understand how Steve’s mind works. The way he suggests taking off your shirt as if it’s not a big deal at all? Mind boggling to you. You look over your shoulder at him, seeing a completely serious expression. 

“Steve, I can’t just take off my shirt.” 

“Why not? You said it’s getting in the way,” he says, as a matter-of-factly. “If it’s not relaxing, then take it off so it can help you relax.”

You hate that he’s right, but still. “I’m not… I mean… I don’t have a bra on.”

“That’s fine. If you’re comfortable being shirtless, then do so. If you want to try and then realize it’s still not helping, then you can put it back on.” 

Steve removes his hands from your shoulders, and you almost find yourself aching for him to put them back. Maybe he was right. Maybe it would help to just take off your shirt. Even if he is here, Steve is your best friend. You trusted Steve. Why were you overthinking things like this? 

Finally, you push yourself up as you discard your shirt and toss it to the floor, before slowly leaning back against Steve. You keep your arms folded across your chest, and you look up at Steve. He simply smiles, before placing his hands over yours. 

“Now… try again.” He moves your hands back in place where they were before, his voice low as he talks just above a whisper in your ear. “Watch what she does on the screen, and copy her. Or don’t. Whatever feels good to you, you’ll know.”

You turn your attention back to the screen, and begin to mimic her movements. If she trailed her hand up to her neck, you did the same. If she brought it down to graze against her nipples, you also did so. You experiment by lightly pinching and rolling each nipple between your fingers, only to find that you really enjoyed the feeling. You find yourself leaning further into Steve, who shifts against you. When he does so, you try not to think about how hard his bulge feels through his jeans against your lower back. 

You try, but ultimately fail.

Feeling him pressed against you only makes your pulse race, and you soon realize he also has his hands back on your shoulders. He doesn’t move them, almost keeps them there as a bit of support as your hands continue to explore your body. 

You decide that you really enjoy the feeling of touching your breasts, so you go back to that. With each squeeze, tug, and feather light brush, you soon feel the dampness begin to grow between your legs. Just like the woman on screen, you begin to slowly trail your hand down to your shorts. You stop just short, realizing that you are about to touch yourself down there. Not only that, you are about to touch yourself down there while Steve sits right behind you, getting a one-man show to all of this. What could possibly be going through his mind as he watches his best friend do all of this?

“S-Steve–”

He places his hand over yours as you try pulling it back. “Don’t stop, baby. I know you were feeling good. Keep going.” 

“But, I… I don’t know what to do.” 

“Sure you do, sweetheart. You were just making yourself feel good all on your own,” his cheek is lightly pressed against yours as he whispers to you, keeping your hand in place just before your waistband. If he really wanted to, he could easily press his lips to your cheek, and you try shoving that fantasy deep down. 

“I just…”

“Do you need some help?” He asks, and it feels like the air has been knocked out of you. Steve was offering to help you touch yourself. Down there. 

“I… are you–I mean, I couldn’t ask you to do that–” 

“Sure you can. Go ahead. I might just say yes,” he chuckles lightly, his thumb brushing along yours as he waits. 

His big hand stays on yours, waiting for permission to continue. You almost forget how to breathe;  imagining that hand a few inches lower, rubbing between your legs while you press yourself back against his chest. His fingers circling around and around before he sticks his fingers–

“Well?” His voice breaks you from your trance, and you let out a shaky breath. 

You look over your shoulder to him, your lips mere centimeters from his own. He doesn’t move, though, and neither do you. Your eyes trail up from his mouth, up to his dark eyes as they stare directly into yours. 

“...Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

“...I want you to help me. Please.” 

“Help you… what?” The corner of his mouth quirks up in a teasing manner, trying to get you to elaborate more on what exactly it is you want him to do. 

Licking your lips, you look up at him through your lashes, your voice soft and pleading, “I… I want you to help me feel good. Please.” 

A low groan releases from the back of his throat, but he tries to cover it up as he clears it. 

“I can do that. Yep. Totally.” 

He keeps his hand on top of yours, and begins to move them both under the waistband of your shorts. You look down, watching your hands disappear under the piece of clothing– a shiver trailing down your back. 

“Open your legs, baby,” he taps your thigh with his free hand, and you bring your legs up, feet flat on the mattress, and knees bent as you slowly bring them apart. The pads of your fingertips move lower and lower, and you release a breath at the soft graze against your most sensitive part. 

“Oh…” you sigh softly, feeling Steve shift behind you, his hard cock more evident against you.

“Feel that?” He whispers, and the low husk of his voice practically sends your thoughts into haywire. “That’s where you want to try to touch the most. But not just yet…” 

He slowly circles your fingers, barely applying any pressure as he guides you before soon moving your fingers down even further, until they meet the wetness of your pussy. He runs your fingers up and down, having you carefully explore yourself. 

“You want to tease yourself. This is how you make yourself more wet.” 

A shaky breath escapes you, and you find yourself relaxing more and more against Steve. There’s a throbbing between your legs that almost hurts in the most delicious way, and you’re not sure if it’s due to the fact that you’re being touched there, or that it’s because Steve is the one helping you. He has your fingers teasing your wet hole, not quite pushing inside, but enough to let you know that you wanted more.

“You can even stick your fingers inside. Since you haven’t done this before, do just one,” his lips brush against your cheek. “I can feel how wet you are, so it should slide right in. Might feel a little awkward at first, though… but it’ll feel good the more you do it, baby.” 

You let out a barely there whimper, and you’re not sure if Steve heard you or not, considering the moaning of the woman on screen slowly begins to fill the room. But the movie was long forgotten, all you could think of was the way Steve’s lips felt as they brushed against your skin when he whispered directions to you and how much you just wanted this ache between your legs to relieve itself.  

Steve maneuvers your hand so that you are now slowly pushing one finger into your pussy. He was right, it did feel uncomfortable right away. It wasn’t a sensation you were used to, and part of you wondered if sex always felt like this and you were slowly starting to second guess yourself. But Steve made sure you kept your finger there, moving it in and out slowly with whispers of praises. 

I got you, baby.

It’ll feel so good, watch.

You’ll love this.

The words coming out of Steve’s mouth only make the sensation between your legs practically unbearable and before you know it, you’re automatically curling your finger as you try to ease the ache. A soft moan escapes, and you’re quick to cover your mouth but it’s too late. Steve had heard. 

He lets out a breathy laugh, keeping his hand in place while the other keeps hold of your shoulder. “Oh, that felt good, didn’t it?” 

Nodding, you feel him lower his head until his lips brush against your jaw, and you find yourself tilting your head. 

“Keep going, then,” he presses a light kiss to your jaw. “Go on, honey. Make yourself feel good. Let me hear you moan.”

“Fuck, Steve…” you whine as you close your eyes, moving your finger again at a smooth rhythm. You find your hips trying to lift up to meet with your finger each time you push it inside, and you slowly begin to lose yourself that you don’t realize the way Steve is watching you. 

With his hand still on top of yours, he has you pull your finger out, and moves your fingertips to your clit, swollen with the need to be touched. 

You gasp, following along with the movements of his fingers. Steve presses closer against you at the same time you push back against him, and he lets out a deep groan, which only sets you off even more. You feel so fucking good– you never knew that this was what you were missing out on. 

“You make such pretty noises,” Steve whispers. “Do you feel good?”

“Yes– God, Steve,” you mewl, starting to move your fingers faster. 

“I can tell. You are fucking dripping all over my fingers, sweetheart,” he pants softly, his lips parted against your cheek. “Want me to keep helping you out?” 

“Please…” 

At this point, you don’t even question if this is what should be happening between you and Steve, because suddenly he brings the hand off your shoulder to grab one of your breasts, and you feel like you could explode from pleasure right then and there. He massages it, first soft and then a little firmer, and all you can do is moan because fuck, you like the way his big hand feels on you this way. His thumb brushes against your nipple, and all the thoughts in your head are just gone because he is touching you just like you were earlier, as if he watched you do so the entire time. You didn’t even mind that Steve was touching you like this–his warm hand was tranquil and soothing, his touch a drug you were slowly becoming addicted to. 

The movements of your fingers circling your clit, Steve’s hand doing wonderous things to your tits, and the feel of his lips against your skin causes a wonderful feeling to build up within you. 

“Oh, Steve… I-I… oh fuck–”

“I got you, baby. Just let go, fuck… listen to how wet you are.” 

Steve starts to move both of your hands even faster, and you hear the wet sounds of your fingers moving around your pussy. The sound is practically erotic. His other hand pinches your nipple, and you’re not sure if you’re just lost in the lust of everything but you swear you feel him sloppily kissing your neck. Even the image of him doing so is stuck in your mind, and you feel yourself tipping over the edge of the precipice as you finally come undone. 

Moaning loudly, your back arches against his chest as your legs begin to shake, and your pussy clenches onto nothing. White flashes behind your eyelids and you swear you see stars and feel them rattling down your spine. Steve keeps hold of you, still playing with your chest while making sure your fingers still move. This time, you’re certain he is kissing your neck between soft praises. 

Yes, there you go.

Fuck, your moans are so pretty.

I got you, baby. 

Baby.

Falling slack against him, Steve soon sits back against the headboard, pulling you with him. His chest also rises along with yours, and you stay against him as you slowly come down from your high. Foggy brained, you slowly blink your eyes open and take in your room. The ridiculous jazz music from the porno plays again, and you completely forgot it was even on, too lost in your own lust-filled event that just took place. 

You finally realize that Steve’s hands are still in place, and it seems he does as well because he suddenly pulls them away. You become aware of your naked chest, and even though Steve was literally touching your chest mere minutes ago, you find yourself suddenly shy and cover up with your arms. 

“Oh, here,” Steve reaches down, grabbing your shirt as he holds it to you. 

“Th-thanks.” 

Slipping on your shirt, you move from between Steve’s legs to sit next to him as he clicks the remote, and the tv turns off. The silence hits both of you like a wave, and you feel as if you are stuck underwater as you both try coming up with something to say. 

“So, what’d you think?”

“Huh?” You look over at him as he motions to the tv. 

“The movie. Did you like it?” 

“Oh, um… I mean… it was okay.” 

“Yeah, it was actually pretty shitty,” he shrugs. “This shit isn’t nearly as real as it seems. Or as good as the real shit.” 

He looks down at you, his cheeks slightly flushed and pupils blown. You happen to glance down, and see the way his dick presses against his jeans, begging to be let out and touched. While you had no idea really what would feel good for Steve, part of you was dying to try to make him feel the same way he had helped you. 

“Um… do you… I mean, do you want–”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I can take care of that when I leave. Which…” he looks at your clock, stretching his arms over his head. “It is kinda late. I should probably get going. I know you have to open tomorrow.” 

“Oh, right,” the disappointment in your voice confuses you. You weren’t sure if you wanted Steve to go or not. 

He stands up, fixing the front of his pants before running one hand through his hair. He looks around, grabbing the different tapes he brought before getting the one out of your VHS player. 

“I could leave these here for you if you want. You could use them before you go to bed, help you relax,” he smirks. 

You roll your eyes, before shaking your head. “I’ll be fine. Thanks, Steve.” 

He lifts his shoulders up before he grabs his bag and shoves them inside. Before he walks to your bedroom door, however, he leans across your bed, and presses a quick kiss to your cheek. 

You freeze, only to remember that Steve was always one to depart with a kiss on the cheek, temple, or forehead. He’s done this to you plenty of times. It doesn’t mean anything different. But… you can’t help but think maybe this one kiss is just a little different than the rest. 

“See ya, sweetheart.” 

With a final grin, Steve departs from your room, and you wait until you hear the closing of the front door to finally let out the breath you’ve been holding. Your mind races–recalling the events that just occurred on your bed moments ago. 

You just had your first ever orgasm.

With Steve Harrington helping urge you on. 

You think about the soft touch from his otherwise rough hands, and how they guided you through your pleasure. How his lips felt against your skin, and the way his breathing sounded as it fanned against your ear. While thinking about this, your hand soon begins to trail right back down under your waistband.

That same night, you had your second ever orgasm. 

[juyeonszn]

CLUMSY

PAIRING ju haknyeon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 6.03k

GENRES smut ﹒fluff

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, reader and juhak are bio lab partners, juhak is lowkey a bit of a loser BUT DW HE REDEEMS HIMSELF, mentions of alcohol, a game of rage cage���, he’s down insanely bad, the flirting goes kinda crazy, someone calls the cops, they run from said cops, reader is Nawt wasting any time, pet names (juhak calls reader princess), tbh they’re both switches in some ways, kitchen sex, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, edging, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie lol

SUMMARY when haknyeon ran into you at a tbz party for the first time, he didn’t think he would fall for you so quickly. or literally. or both simultaneously. but there’s a first time for everything, he supposes.

MORE andddddd here we go 🫡 second fic of the black out or back out collab 🙏 i forgot to link the masterlist in the last one so im gonna link it in this one in case u wanna read any of the others!! ANYWAY i had such a fun time writing this one, any excuse i get to write for juhak, i will take trust <3 if u enjoyed, don’t forget to reblog! and pls check out the other fics so far!!

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel

TAGLIST @millksea

SERIES MASTERLIST

Okay. So maybe trying to secure a girlfriend at a party wasn’t exactly Haknyeon’s best idea.

But, hey. You had to give him some credit. At least he was making an attempt. Most of his other frat brothers weren’t even making an effort. They seemed perfectly satisfied with charming their ways into random girls’ pants every weekend. Unfortunately, or fortunately considering he was a gentleman, Haknyeon wasn’t into that sort of thing.

It was just a little embarrassing that Kim Sunwoo’s love life had more progress than his own. Sunwoo was literally the resident loser bitch boy of the TBZ house. How was he closer to getting a girlfriend than he was? It made absolutely no sense.

Ju Haknyeon thought of himself as a catch. He was pretty neat, his room was cleaner than most guys’ his age. He knew how to cook basic meals, again, more than the average college sophomore. His car wasn’t on its last leg. (Cough cough… Kim Sunwoo, I’m looking at you.) He was a decent dude. He supported women’s rights and wrongs!

Apparently that was not enough these days.

“…And I need you to make sure the fridge is stocked completely. I’m not trying to drink my coffee without cream tomorrow morning because some idiot drank it while they were drunk.” Sangyeon commands, typing something furiously on his phone as some of the other guys move around the furniture.

“Bruh, I was in charge of buying everything last time. Why can’t someone else do it?” Kevin groans. Something else that wasn’t Haknyeon’s best idea? Walking into the kitchen during this very conversation. “What about JuHak? He looks like he has nothing better to do.”

“Yeah, whatever. That’s fine. Hak, I’m airdropping you the list.” Sangyeon waves his hand in dismissal, returning to his extensive presidential duties.

The sophomore deadpans, but doesn’t have the energy to argue back. You know, the usual fraternity was just a bunch of rich guys with more money than the tuition of each TBZ brother combined. However, the Tau Beta Zeta house was not your usual fraternity. It really was just a bunch of normal dudes thrown together. Though, Lee Sangyeon ran it like it was the fucking Navy.

Haknyeon accepts his defeat and grabs his things, heading out to the supermarket to shop for tonight’s party. Alcohol duty sucked more than door duty, in his opinion. You were sent out all alone, tasked with bringing back enough liquor and beer to last until early hours of the morning. It was a near impossible mission, unless you were Kevin Moon and good at practically everything in the world.

He pushes around the shopping cart mindlessly, though he knows he’ll have to make another trip. A long sigh leaves his lips as he enters the alcohol aisle. He fills the bottom of the cart with different cases of beer until he thinks he may drop one, and then starts to place things in the basket. He feels like a dumbass hauling it over to the registers, like everyone can see right through him.

He has to remind himself that this is for a good cause, that it’ll be worth it when everyone is enjoying themselves at the party. His actions won’t be in vain. Even after the second trip with another cart full of beer and various liquor bottles, Haknyeon keeps repeating affirmations in his head. This has to be the party.

In fact, he thinks his thoughts have manifested into reality when he sees you walking into the grocery store at the same time he’s leaving. You’re his pretty Bio lab partner. He’s always too nervous to hold a substantial conversation with you, so he settles for the bare minimum, which is unfulfilling small talk during your labs. It’s never what he needs though. Aside from your name, Haknyeon knows nothing about you.

“Y/N?” What he wants right now, however, is to shoot himself in the foot for sounding so unsure.

You glance up from your phone, a smile lighting up your face when you recognize him. “Haknyeon! Hey! What’s up?”

“Last minute preparations for the TBZ party tonight,” he gestures at his shopping cart with pursed lips. “You?”

“That’s so funny that you say that! My friends and I are going—“ You eye his cart with confusion. “Wait, I didn’t know you were in Tau Beta Zeta.”

“Yeah…” Haknyeon laughs awkwardly. “Surprise!”

You giggle, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t seem like the frat boy type. Then again, TBZ isn’t your average frat so, I guess that kinda adds up.”

Haknyeon’s not sure if he should take that as a compliment or not, but since it’s coming from you, he decides that he will. The realization that you mentioned you’d be attending the party finally sets in at that same moment. “So, I’ll see you later, then?”

You nod, smile widening. “Yeah, I’m just grabbing a bottle for us to bring with. But I’ll be there. Maybe we’ll bump into each other.”

God, he hopes so. This is the perfect opportunity for him to swoop in and learn everything he’s been dying to know about you. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek. “I don’t know… I’m a busy man. It might be a little hard.”

That cute little laugh of yours makes another appearance. “I’ll be on the lookout, don’t worry. See you tonight, Haknyeon.”

Ju Haknyeon thinks that he must’ve done something monumental in a past life, like saving a dog from a burning building or stopping a world war. How else would the universe reward him this kindly? All he can do is wave as you maneuver around an elderly couple passing by into the store.

Maybe Kevin Moon wasn’t that bad. And maybe Lee Sangyeon wasn’t as big of a tyrant as he made him out to be. He could actually kiss the ground they walked on for forcing him into alcohol duty. If it weren’t for them, he wouldn’t have ran into you and he wouldn’t have known you were attending the party. Now he has something to look forward to that isn't getting shitfaced.

“What the hell are you wearing?”

Haknyeon looks away from his mirror, Hyunjae standing in the doorway. He has a cringe on his face at the sight of his outfit. It wasn’t the worst thing he’s ever worn, but it was… a bit too much. A black button up and black slacks was admittedly not the best frat party fit. The only good thing he had going for him was his hair that was styled for once, parted so his bangs framed his face nicely.

“This girl I’m kinda into is coming tonight. I need to look irresistible.” The younger explains, arms flailing at his sides.

“Okay, well you won’t accomplish that in this,” Hyunjae snorts, digging through his closet. “If she’s into you too, she won’t care what you’re wearing. Just throw on something you’d normally wear. Like… this! This is nice.”

Hyunjae holds up a black t-shirt and a black-washed denim jacket. Haknyeon hums. It was simple, but also once he put it on he wouldn’t feel like a douchebag, which was the whole goal here. Paired with some khaki cargo pants, he’s found a winner. He begrudgingly thanks his senior for the assistance, shooing him out of his bedroom so he can mentally prepare for the night ahead of him.

He doesn’t even know what to bring up now that he really tosses the idea around in his head. Yeah, he wants to learn more about you and what you’re like outside of your Bio lab, but specifically what he couldn’t say. Haknyeon was starting to feel like a lost cause. He had to clutch up tonight. He had to woo you so much that you had no choice but to fall for his cute face and endearing personality. But how was he meant to do that if he couldn’t even come up with topics to talk with you about?

Maybe he was just thinking too far into things. Perhaps he should just let it all go with the flow. Moving at an au natural pace was probably his best bet in comparison to Sunwoo’s soccer ball plan. (He’s still confused how that worked in his favor.)

Before he knows it, the party is swinging into full effect. This is the first time Haknyeon’s ever been so socially aware of his surroundings. He had a habit of blurring his atmosphere at these things, more interested in getting drunk with his buddies than paying attention to the attendees. As he stands in a corner of the living room, listening to Chanhee complain about treasurer stuff, he watches each and every person who enters the house.

When you finally do walk in, he has to physically stop himself from choking on the beer in his cup, biting the rim of the plastic in a weak attempt to sedate himself. If he thought you were gorgeous before in a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, he doesn’t know what to call you now. You’re laughing at something one of your friends said, dolled up in a black mini skirt and a black cropped halter top while hugging a bottle of Pink Whitney to your chest. He could probably pass out right here right now.

He almost does, but then Chanhee is slapping his back aggressively. “Wipe the drool off of your chin. God, am I the only one who still has a brain?”

“Shut the fuck up, Chanhee, go cry about your life somewhere else.” Haknyeon dismisses his senior, downing the rest of his drink for some liquid courage. Though he is, he doesn’t want to seem too desperate, so he’s not going up to you this quickly. Instead, he heads into the kitchen to get another drink, rolling his neck like he’s preparing for the biggest win of the century.

It’s as he’s pouring some jungle juice into a fresh cup that you see him. A smile similar to the one from the store graces your features. There was only one person with a back like that, and it was your cute lab partner. You keep an arm wrapped around your bottle, tapping his shoulder lightly. He spins around confusedly, but the expression morphs into pleasant surprise immediately after.

“Pink Whitney? Easy choice,” he points at the bottle in your grasp. “Are you a lightweight, Y/N?”

Your cheeks warm up at the teasing remark. Upon first meeting, Haknyeon’s been an awkward mess around you. You can only assume the confidence stems from the fact that he’s within his element. “That’s for me to know, and you to find out.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were implying that you want me to get you drunk.” He tucks a hand into one of his jacket pockets, the other bringing his cup to his mouth. He’s unconscious of the source of this sudden bravery, but he prays it doesn’t fade off anytime soon.

“Maybe I do…” You bite your lip, undoing the seal of the Pink Whitney bottle to take a sip. It burns your throat slightly. “I’ve never hung out with a frat boy before. I kinda wanna see what the hype is all about.”

Haknyeon thinks he might pass out again, because if he wasn’t so acutely aware of your entire interaction, he would think you’re flirting with him. Friendliness was a double edged sword in this day and age. But who knows, maybe you are flirting. You showed up with your friends but they were nowhere to be found now. He needed to take advantage of the opening.

It’s around this time that Younghoon and Juyeon are bringing out the fated beer pong table, a crowd already beginning to form nearby. He feels sorry for the poor suckers who have to play Changmin and his girlfriend.

“We should play beer pong!” You suggest, watching the pair of taller guys setting up the cups over his shoulder. Haknyeon can sense the color draining from his face. If it had been anyone else, he would’ve shut the idea down insanely fast, but because it was you, he was genuinely contemplating. Those who went up against the infamous TBZ party beer pong champions were in for a rude awakening, but if you wanted to...

“Uh—“ He starts but then he’s interrupted.

“Yo! Who’s down to play Rage Cage?!”

Juyeon’s voice is somehow louder than the music, carrying into the kitchen where the two of you stand. Haknyeon wasn’t the greatest Rage Cage player, but he enjoyed it a hell of a lot more than beer pong. Especially when he stood beside people who didn’t understand the concept of the game.

You chug some more Pink Whitney, batting your eyelashes up at Haknyeon. “I’ve never played Rage Cage. Is it fun?”

“If you’re next to the right people it can be, but if you aren’t, then it’s a whole lot of drinking. We haven’t played Rage Cage at a TBZ party in a while, but the last time we did Eric Sohn almost had to get his stomach pumped.” He laughs a little at the memory of his friend spending the rest of his night cuddling with a toilet seat. The mental picture overshadows how enticing you look right now.

“Do you think you can teach me?” You ask sweetly, hoping that he takes the hint. He seemed like the type of guy who wouldn’t make the first move unless you forced him to, so it appeared that you had your work cut out for you.

“You wanna play?” He turns to you with wide eyes, almost as if he hadn’t expected you to show interest in the game. You give him a small nod, tucking some hair behind your ear. The truth of the matter was that you were a fucking liar. You’ve played Rage Cage plenty of times in the past. You were actually pretty decent at it, too. You just needed an excuse to spend the night around him.

“We better head over there now. It looks like the table is filling up.” You jab your pinkie in that general direction. Haknyeon blows a raspberry and leads you that way, his hand resting on the small of your back so he won’t lose you in the pack of people surrounding the table.

“Forewarning, my rap sheet doesn’t really read World Class Rage Cage Champ,” he laughs nervously, the anxiety beginning to eat at him all over again. “But I promise, I won’t let you get stacked.”

When Haknyeon said he wasn’t the worst, but wasn’t good at Rage Cage, you took his word. Except he severely overplayed his own skill. Maybe he was just extremely on edge and it threw off his game, but the amount of times he was stacked on was a little comical. At the very least, he kept his promise. You hadn’t got stacked once, but that was also only because Haknyeon would drink for you every time you almost did.

The room is sort of spinning by the time the first game has finished. Playing a drinking game while he’s trying to get to know you better was probably at the higher portion of his ‘BAD IDEAS!!!’ list. If he wasn’t so eager to please and followed along to each of your suggestions, perhaps he’d be having a different conversation. That was not the case, though.

You can’t help but feel a little guilty for the turn out. All you’d wanted was to flirt with your lab partner, possibly end the night with some making out. As it was looking, that’s not the path you were heading down, but rather towards the kitchen for some water to sober him up some. Your bottle of Pink Whitney is long lost, replaced with a bottle of H2O. You hold his chin, tilting it back slightly to pour some into his mouth.

If he hadn’t already had the fattest crush on you, he definitely did now. Pretty and nice? You were the total package. Here you were, nursing him back to sobriety when you could’ve been out and about enjoying yourself with your friends. Up this close, he gets a detailed look at you. It’s so weird for him to think about how much he’s pined after you since the start of the semester, how much he’s admired the face that’s looking at him with this unfamiliar tenderness. He never thought he stood a chance. You know, that whole ‘nice guys finish last’ pick me boy vibe.

“Y/N—” He’s cut short, Juyeon’s voluminous voice resonating throughout the house again, sans the music.

“Everybody who isn’t Tau Beta Zeta, get the fuck out! Someone called the cops!”

Of course. Nobody ever calls the cops on a TBZ party but of fucking course the one time Haknyeon gets shoot his shot with you, someone narcs. He actually thinks he might die. He might keel over and die in the middle of this party while the cops are raiding the place. Lee Sangyeon is gonna be thrown in the back of a police cruiser for letting people drink underage and then send them his way because he bought all of the alcohol. This was just his luck.

Without a word, you grab his hand and drag him out through the back door. You follow the flock of other party goers escaping the wrath of the police. It’s difficult to run in a mini skirt and strappy heels, but you don’t really have room to whine about it. Haknyeon doesn’t know if there’s ever a right time to tell you that you could’ve just gone up to his room, but figures it’s too late when you're hopping the short fence that goes out to the main street of Greek Row.

One would think that he’d sobered up at this point since he was, you know, on the run from the law. Yet for some reason Ju Haknyeon himself doesn’t even know, he’s still feeling the effects of the alcohol, tripping over that stupid fucking fence and falling flat on his face. Thankfully, he lands on the grassy part just before the sidewalk, but it doesn’t make the situation any less embarrassing.

You don’t give him recovery time, pulling him to his feet. He holds a hand to the side of his face that received the harshest of the impact, expecting to wake up to a nasty bruise tomorrow. He’s also unsure where exactly you’re taking him, but is afraid of asking out of fear that you’ll send his ass back to the frat house and have him arrested or something. (He had a bad habit of over complicating situations and coming up with the worst possible scenarios.)

Once the commotion has died out and there’s no one else around, you slow your pace. You turn to face him with a grin, holding both of his hands in yours as you walk backwards. “Are you cool with staying the night at my place?”

Truly, Haknyeon needs to know what act of nobility he committed in his previous life. He needs to go back in time and thank himself for whatever it was. Even with fumble after fumble, he was somehow bouncing back and receiving major compensation for sticking it out. He swallows thickly, nodding dumbly when he realizes he hasn’t given you a proper response.

“Um… Yeah— I mean— yes. That’s fine. That’s totally fine.” He word-vomits, stumbling over his tongue rather than his feet. Being down bad was one of his strongest personality traits. And being clumsy was second strongest, so you don't even have to imagine how terrible a combination of both would be.

The walk to your apartment knocks any lingering inebriation out of his system. He’s entirely too hyper aware of what’s happening as you guide him in that direction. It’s cooler out, the temperature dropping in the nighttime as the end of the semester approaches. If there was another reason to be grateful for this party, it was because he no longer had to worry about not making a move before your last lab together. As much as he despised Biology, he’d take it every day if it meant getting to see you.

He actually feels like he may throw up as you reach your place, his hands sticking into the pockets of his jacket to hide the clamminess of his palms. His nerves are creeping up on him once more, a dark cloud looming over him. He shouldn’t be this jumpy at this point of the night. He should be composed, prepared to sweep you off your feet after spending so much time with you. Why the hell is he sweating bullets right now?

“Welcome to my humble abode,” you curtsy. “Would you like something to drink? Water, maybe?”

“Th-That would be great,” Haknyeon forces out, waddling behind you into the kitchen like a baby duckling following its mother. “You have a nice apartment.”

“Really? Thank you!” You can’t help but giggle at his jitters and the way he keeps rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. A sense of déjà vu rushes over you when you pass him a cup. “Living alone has its perks, I guess. I like that I don’t have to argue with anyone about how to decorate and things like that.”

“It sounds a lot more enjoyable than living with a bunch of men in their early twenties,” he smiles weakly as he accepts the glass of water from you. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how thin the walls are in that house.”

“Do they have sex often?” You ask him bluntly, head cocking to the side almost innocently. He chokes on the water he just sipped, nearly spilling it onto the floor.

“W-What?” He sputters.

“I’m assuming that’s what you’re talking about,” you shrug, facing away from him so you can grab yourself something to drink, also. “We should get back at them.”

You don’t know how many more bones you can throw for him to understand what you're insinuating. Even the frat boy comment you made earlier was intentional. Haknyeon’s mouth goes dry and his eyes widen like a cartoon character’s. What the fuck?

“I’ve never brought a girl back to the house before, because I don’t want them to make fun of me or something— not that I’m saying I would take you back to the house! I mean I just would feel bad if you also got made fun of— not that I’m referring to having sex with you or anything!” The glass in his hands is on the verge of slipping from his grip. “Not that I don’t want to have sex with you— oh my god— um wow, that’s a very lovely fruit bowl you have there I—“

“Hak,” you interject his rambling, wearing a mischievous smile.

The nickname drives him fucking insane. Scratch him possibly dying. If he isn’t dead by the end of the night, he’ll be shocked. Perplexed. Perturbed. Puzzled. Any shock-adjacent synonym you can think of. That will be him. “Y-Yes?”

“Can you shut up and kiss me already?”

Honestly, you don’t have to ask him twice. His lips are on yours in seconds, fingers fisting the material of your skirt at your hips to steel himself. You moan in response to the sheer frenzy behind his actions. It’s so easy to lose yourself in the haste of it; the way you tug at his hair, the blunt edges of his nails digging into your sides, the near clashing of your teeth. He nibbles at your bottom lip, sighing when you allow his tongue to permeate your mouth. He’s content to do nothing but this, kissing you is enough to satiate the desire he’s harbored for you for months. However, with the franticness of your kiss, he knows you want more.

He inches you both backwards until your lower back hits the counter, and then he’s cupping beneath your thighs to hoist you up. His strength sends tidal waves pulsing throughout your whole being, hurriedly pushing the material of his denim jacket off of his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor without a care. Your hands travel south as his lips trail along your jaw and neck, sucking and biting your supple skin wherever he feels fit. He hisses into the dip where your collarbone meets your shoulder when you palm him through his pants.

“Fuck, babe, you want me bad, don’t you?” He mutters into the column of your throat, teeth sinking into the flesh after.

“Mhmm,” you whine, craning your neck to give him more access to the surface. It’s like a switch has flipped in him and it turns you on unbearably. This is what you’ve been trying to coax out of him all night.

Haknyeon pries apart your legs, slotting himself between them so he can sneak his fingers beneath your skirt. His thumb rubs tight circles into your clothed clit, the lace of your underwear damp with your arousal. He connects your lips again, groaning into your kiss when he moves the fabric aside and slides his knuckle through your folds. You buck up your hips, whimpering when he holds them down with his forearm.

“Want more,” you gasp when he applies a bit of pressure to your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“‘More’ what? Use your words, princess,” he instructs, tracing your entrance with his ring finger.

You shake your head because you’re not even sure what it is that you want. You just know that this isn’t enough to quell the hunger burning at your chest. It’s not nearly sufficient to fan the flames in the depths of your heart or the ache in the pit of your abdomen. You need him everywhere. It’s beyond him being your cute Bio lab partner now.

He urges you onto your elbows, pecking the plane of your stomach. He pushes up your skirt and discards your panties, baring you to the cool air of your apartment. Your eyes flutter shut when he kisses your clit gently. Your head is light and airy and it’s like you’re on cloud nine. Haknyeon hums against you, pulling off to scold you.

“Eyes open, baby,” he nudges his nose on your pelvic bone. “Want you to watch me eat you out.”

The moan you release is strained, like it had been confined in the back of your throat for ages until this moment. He flattens his tongue and licks a line from your hole to your clit, suckling the engorged skin and repeating. Your eyelids are heavy, keeping your intense gaze on him as he all but makes out with your pussy. He focuses his mouth on your clit and slips his middle finger into you. He pumps it in and out languidly, setting a rhythm that matches each swirl of his tongue around your clit.

The whole scene still feels unreal to both of you, like you might wake up from a wet dream or something. How was it possible that Ju Haknyeon was finger fucking you on your kitchen counter? Just a couple days ago, you were sitting side by side in your Biology lab, too nervous to initiate a substantial conversation. You’d think it would be harder to slob on someone’s knob than it would be to talk to them while wearing a fuckass lab coat and goggles.

Haknyeon works his forearm up, pinning down your thighs so your cunt is fully accessible. He adds a second finger to the mix, thrusting them at a higher speed and increasing the unrelenting sucking of your bundle of nerves. He can tell you’re creeping closer towards your climax with the way your walls clench around him and your hips continue to jerk up. And considering the kind of person he was, you figured he would aid you rather than hinder you. But you figured wrong.

He slows his assault, removing his mouth from your clit and leaving the stimulation at just his two fingers. You whine, lip quivering when he looks up into your eyes.

“W-Why are you— what are you doing?” You plead, hating the tone of your voice. The tables have turned, with you sitting beside desperation. This is so unlike you— so unlike the usual domineering aura you exude during sex— your body reacting differently to the power falling through the cracks within your grasp.

“Don’t you wanna savor the moment, princess?” He sounds so cocky, a far cry from the wavering confidence you’d always seen out of him. He kisses the skin of your inner thighs, moving closer and closer to the area you need him most, all the while he continues curling and uncurling his fingers.

The precipice of your orgasm is right there, you can almost taste it on the tip of your tongue. But Haknyeon holds it just out of reach, dangling it in your face like teasing a dog with a chew toy. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, a false sense of hedonism building and building, then slowly ebbing away each time he retracts. You open your mouth, but no sound comes out.

Just when you’ve given up hope, he adds a third finger and wraps his lips around your clit, sucking harshly. The sudden and unexpected intrusion snaps that familiar cord in half, blinding you with white hot pleasure. The groan that escapes from the base of your chest is guttural, echoing throughout the kitchen. You don’t have it in you to worry about waking your neighbors, especially not when you feel the curve of a smile against your cunt, such an uncharacteristic response from Haknyeon.

Your legs spasm as the height of your orgasm calms. You pull him down for a wanton kiss, tangling your fingers in his hair. He laughs at the role swap, hands flat on the counter to hold him over you. “Feel good?”

“So good, Hak,” you murmur into his lips. “Think you can fuck me like that next?”

“So impatient,” he snickers, pecking along your jaw once more. “But since you’ve been so good for me, I think it’s only fair that I return the favor.”

You clumsily undo the button and zipper of his cargoes, pushing them down with your foot. He steps out of them and kicks them away while simultaneously removing his t-shirt. You take your top off and shimmy out of your skirt, raising an eyebrow at the narrowed look in his eyes. “What?”

“Do you have a condom?”

“No,” you poke your cheek with your tongue. “But, I don’t care if you wear one. I’d rather feel you raw, anyway.”

His forehead drops to your shoulder. “God, you’re killing me. Okay.”

He shoves down his briefs and you have to stop yourself from gawking at his size. While he wasn’t the biggest, he was definitely bigger than anyone else you’ve ever been with. He pumps himself a couple times, guiding his length to your entrance and throwing his head back when the tip presses into you. This was really happening, holy shit. Ju Haknyeon was actually having sex with you.

Your toes curl and you stab your nails into your palms to distract from the stinging stretch. He eases into you with the occasional grunt, minding your expressions for any signs of discomfort. When all he sees is your features contorted to display pleasure, he resumes. By the time he’s bottomed out completely, both of you are moaning messes. You feel so full, stuffed to the brim with the weight of his cock.

“I’ve wanted to be inside of you for so fucking long,” he admits, speaking the words into your sticky skin as he drags himself out only to piston back in. The action throttles you a bit, your eyes tempted to roll to the back of your head from how fucking good it feels. You can’t conjure coherent thoughts to properly convey how many endorphins are coursing through your veins.

Haknyeon sets a pace that combines the perfect amount of speed and depth, the tip of his cock brushing that spot deep in your cunt. Your brain is hazy and your vision blurs, hardly able to see anything in front of you. His mouth attaches to the pulse point on your neck, ensuring he bruises the area.

“Y-You’re— fuck— you’re s-so deep, Hak. I can feel you all over,” you wail, bringing one of his hands to tamp your lower stomach. The pressure contributes to the growing tension of your second orgasm, something you know will collide into you with even more exertion than the first.

“Yeah? You’re taking me s-so well, baby. No one else has ever fucked you this good, right?” Sweat beads on his hairline, dripping down his temples with every thrust of his hips and every drive of his cock into your sweet pussy. Even if he really did somehow manage to die tonight, he could do it with integrity. He could go out with the honor of a fallen soldier knowing that he got to experience this at least once in his life.

He hikes one of your knees up to your chest, burying his dick deeper if humanly possible. You arch your back, pushing into his chest to minimize the space between you, antsy at the promise of another release as mind blowing as the last. He brings you to the edge of the counter so you’re now hip to hip. Haknyeon snakes a hand in the middle of your bodies, using his thumb to rub circles into your clit. That stimulation coupled with the depth of his cock encourages the fluttering of your walls, in turn drawing out the state of bliss you’ve been chasing.

Your vision goes blank, stars painting the behinds of your eyelids. A second orgasm crests upon you and evokes a moan so pornographic, it sounds far away from you. It’s a dreamlike euphoria, an almost out of body experience that puts every other orgasm to shame. The surface of your skin is hot to the touch.

“Where do you want me, princess?” Haknyeon asks breathily. In the calamity of your own release, you nearly forgot about his until you register the twitching inside of you. It pauses the static in your ears, returning the volume of the world to its normality.

“Cum inside of me,” you whine, the overstimulation becoming too much to handle. He doesn’t need to be told another time, grip tightening on your thigh as he spills into your cunt.

The two of you stay still for a moment, allowing clarity to flow into your brains. You wince when he finally has half the mind to pull out, his nose scrunching up at the sensitivity. He slides his underwear back on, extremely conscious of how naked he is right now. He has an inkling that you were anticipating that this would happen, because why else would you ask him to stay over tonight? But, he is the Ju Haknyeon that you’ve sat next to this entire semester in your Biology lab. So he couldn’t just march forward without a little overthinking and self deprecation.

“Do you still want me to stay?” His voice has reverted back to that small, unsure tone. You sit up quickly, alarmed by the twinge of disappointment underneath it.

“Of course, I do,” you pout, kissing his cheek and lacing your fingers together. “I’ve had a crush on you since the beginning of the year, Hak. Sure, maybe I skipped a couple steps in between, but I have wanted this so badly— I have wanted you so badly— for you don’t even know how long.”

He chuckles, tucking some hair behind your ear. He leaves a sweet kiss on your lips, softer and gentler than the ones from earlier that night. He’s intentional with the way he glides them in harmony, like he was following the melody of the most beautiful song. “Oh trust me, I think I have an idea.”

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[muzansfangs]

Guilty pleasure.

Starring: Muzan x f!reader; Douma x f!reader; Kokushibo, Shinobu, Kanae (mentioned).

Warnings: language, kind of dirty talk/references, choking, violence, gore, physical torture, murder, attempted murder, abuse, possible major spoiler (canon events reported with a modern adaptation), sugar daddy dynamics.

Plot: you spend a lovely day in Douma’s company, trying to get your mind off from your fake boyfriend’s business. However, a mysterious woman, seeking revenge, attacks you in the parking lot. Panicking, you call Muzan and he does not hesitate to come to your rescue. You see his dark side, you watch the way his usual charming façade drops to reveal his true nature. Scared to death, you get into his car and you know you are going to pay the price of your disobedience

PART 1| PART 2| PART 3| PART 4| PART 5 | PART 6

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DISOBEDIENCE.

You were enjoying Douma’s company. He had taken you to the mall and bought you a dress he thought would have suited your perfectly. You had tried to protest, tugging at his arm to drag him away from the shop, but nor your words, neither your strength worked as a deterrent for him.

He was hilarious. Maybe way too sarcastic at times and his dark sense of humor had made you question his sanity more than once. However, he was exactly the type of person you could easily talk to about anything. Additionally, you felt safe around him. While taking a break from your duties, to elaborate the ‘not-so-shocking” news about Muzan and his villainous antics, had managed to calm you down, you could not look at Douma as a common bodyguard anymore.

He was an assassin. A friendly assassin.

Then again, you were living with a bunch of serial killers. What could possibly go wrong? They did not seem to keen to slaughter you. At least, not yet. They were all loyal to Muzan, though, and it was obvious that they would have never laid a finger on you, as long as you were under his protective wing. However, you knew that, if your ‘boyfriend’ suddenly decided to get rid of you, they would have not hesitated to chop your head off and throw it at his feet.

Around noon, Douma drove you to a fency restaurant. Everything was delicious and, as you expected, extremely expensive. He insisted to pay the bill again and you had no other choice but let him do it. You did not know if it was part of his job, or if it was just his way to flirt with you. While he had never really stopped complimenting you, he had still not wasted any given chance to flirt with every woman passing by.

You got easily flustered by his seductive mannerism, but crossing the line was not in your plans. Also, Douma was what you would have defined as a walking red flag.

But if Douma was a red flag, Muzan was a red blanket.

“You didn’t have to, you know. I am not your girlfriend” you said, glancing at the tall man beside you briefly, as you walked out of the restaurant. You felt slightly embarrassed. You still had your own money to spend. Although you were going to financially depend from Muzan, you had worked for two years at the restaurant and you had saved enough money to pay for a lunch.

Douma grinned, putting his sunglasses on casually “I know, but I wanted to. What kind of a man would I be, if I let you pay?” he declared, tucking his hand into the pocket of his trousers to draw the keys of his car out of it.

You narrowed your eyes at your morning companion “Do you mean that Muzan did not tell you to pay for whatever I need?” you inquired, rubbing the back of your neck in distress.

The silver-haired man smiled at you, opening your car door gentlemanly for you to hop in “Well, he did! But only if the money he had given you did not suffice. Let’s say that I like you! I did everything of my own accord!” he beamed, a smug smile crossing his sharp visage, as he glanced behind your back intensily. You were glad he was not paying much attention at your poor state.

Your cheeks flushed up and you tried to stammer out a ‘thank you’, when he abruptly pushed you inside the car, slamming the car door close with his foot. What the hell had just happened to the ‘I am a gentleman who is trying to win your heart’ attitude?

You shrieked, accidentally banging your head on the steering wheel as you fell backwards into the vehicle. You thought you were allucinating, when you heard a whistle outside the car. You would have never thought about a bullet flying right in your direction. However, when you pushed yourself up and you peeked out of the window, you heard another sound and, this time, there was no doubt about it: it was a gunshot.

You clasped your hand over your mouth in fear, your eyes searching for Douma and, when you finally spotted him crouched down behind a bush, safe and sound, you released a breath you did not know you were holding.

Who was attacking you? It was clear that a man as powerful and evil as Muzan had a long list of enemies to watch his back from. The person shooting at the car was evidently trying to kill either you, or Douma. How did they know about you? The medias did not know about your presence in Muzan’s life yet.

You stared outside the window in horror, conscious that stepping out of the car would have only meant dying. As foolish as it may have sounded, staying inside was the safest choice to make. Douma was clearly used to this. His cheeky grin did not fade as he reached behind his back and unfolded a pair of golden fans. They were sharp, shining under the sun. Those were not a pair of common fans. You had seen them into a lot of museums: they were war fans, tessens to be precise.

“Ah, Shinobu-chan, I wondered when you were going to show up! You are always at my throat, aren’t you?” Douma beamed, glancing over his shoulder to check on your attacker. You curiously followed his gaze and you finally saw your aggressor too. It was not a surprise for you to see a woman, probably around your age, unsheathing a katana. What puzzled you was her stature, instead. Big doe gradient purple eyes, matching bangs, she was a petite woman with a deadly glare.

“Douma-san, how could I miss a chance to kill you?” she chimed, her grip on the hilt of her sword tightening. Shivers ran down your spine as you ducked down on the passenger seat enough to hide yourself, but to also see what was happening outside.

The silver-haired man stood up, pouting at the stranger “Ouch, you are so cruel Shinobu-chan! We could have been so good together!” he complained, cocking his head to the side. What? Was she a psychotic ex? Dear God, you had no energy to deal with that, then again it was kind of entertaining.

While Douma appeared to be confident and almost thrilled about the incoming fight, the short woman was not amused in the slightest. The irk mark on her forehead was evident as she sprinted towards him at an incredible speed. She was so graceful she resembled a butterfly, her hair swaying around her visage as she unleashed a series of lethal, quick slashes you would have not been able to avoid at all.

Douma, on the other hand, laughed at her face, countering her attacks back easily. The sound of her sword clashing against the tessens made you flinch and you felt tears welling up in your eyes. What exactly was happening? Could Douma win against this woman? Could you help him? How? You did not know how to fight, but…

But you knew how to drive.

You palmed your forehead and your stomach clenched at the thought that had just crossed your mind. You were not an assassin. You were not like them, you were not like him. You would have never been like them. Still, knocking her down on the road would have been a good way to stop her.

You ran your fingers through your hair in dispair. Muzan. You could call Muzan.

You reached down to grab your purse, your hand rummaging through it until you grasped your phone. With your heart still thrumming into your chest, you unlocked the screen only to see seven missed calls and several texts messages from him. Your heart sank into your stomach. You had screwed up, you were not going to make it out alive anyway. Despite that, you were desperate and you called him.

You heard the girl wince and your teary eyes darted on her. She had a deep cut on her left cheek, blood dripping from her hand too as Douma stood a few strides away from her with a malicious grin gracing his lips.

As soon as your name popped out on his phone, Muzan answered immediately.

“Where the fuck are you?” he growled, making you whimper.

But as you opened your mouth to tell him that you were sorry and what kind of situation you had found yourself into, you choked on your own words. You sobbed, tears streaming down your cheeks in fear as the bloody, mortal battle between Douma and Shinobu raged outside.

“What’s happening? Are you hurt?” Muzan pressed, his tone cold and authoritative, yet concerned. Did someone find you? Did they kidnap you? Oh, he would have killed Nakime with his own hands for having let you go out alone.

“Y/N, fucking answer me!” he roared, only for you to feebly cry out an apology.

“I’m sorry! R-Really! I-I’m fine, but someone attacked us! I’m with Douma, he is—” you were cut off by his deep, menacing voice and you jolted on your seat at the way he barked out his resentment.

“You’re with who?! – he snapped, slamming the palm of his hand over his desk, making the coffee spill on some papers he was reading – I’m going to gouge his eyeballs out of his wretched skull! Tell me where you are now!” he demanded coldly.

He was furious. You barely knew him, that was true, but you could tell he meant every word he had said. Your lower lip quivered and you found yourself at loss of words.

In that very moment, though, Douma bursted out laughing, catching your attention again. Shinobu was laying at his feet, as he pressed his shoe over her throat. When did he get to knock her down? She was covered in wounds, her sword scattered behind her, out of her reach, and you gulped down nervously. Was he going to kill her?

“I don’t know… It’s a parking lot not too far from the ‘The Blue Spider Lily’. It’s a restaurant on the fifth avenue. P-Please, calm down!” you blurted out in a timid attempt to cool down his nerves.

Muzan was not mad. He was furious, on the verge to drive straight to where you were and commit a mass murder. Not only you had tricked his bodyguard, but you had left with the most unreliable, sociopathic and reckless member of the Moons, and did not even think about giving him a call to ask for his consent. Now, with your life in Douma’s hands, when you were not close to him, where he could protect you, how could you ask him control himself?

“Tell me who is the Slayer” Muzan hissed through gritted teeth.

The Slayer? What did he mean by that? Could it be the girl fighting against Douma? You were sweating, the fear of enraging him more was consuming you from the inside. He had not mentioned any of that in the contract. He should have told you that, in order to accept it, you had to be a skilled fighter.

You sniffed, wiping away some tears with the back of your hand “It’s a girl. I think her name is Shinobu. – you mumbled, watching how the silver-haired man had gripped the girl’s hair to bring her face closer to his one – Douma is going to kill her, isn’t he?” you asked, shutting your eyes close not to assist to what was yet to come.

It took a moment for him to say something, but when he did you felt something in your heart cracking “Not in front of you. I would not allow it – he stated softly – Stay in the car. I’m coming”.

You did not have a chance to reply, he hanged up, leaving you speechless and terrorized into the car. No, not it was enough. You did not want to watch Douma die before your eyes for having executed an order. You could not sit idly into the car, while the world was crumbling underneath your feet.

You took a deep breath and got out of the shiny Maserati, jogging towards Douma with a blurry vision and wobbly legs. He was chuckling at the way Shinobu whimpered in pain under the small cuts he was leaving on her cheeks with a switchblade. Wicked, he was wicked. You were surprised no one was around to stop this madness.

“Douma, stop! Please, don’t hurt her!” you cried out, trying to shove him away from the woman.

He stared at you curiously, blade pressed against her throat “Y/N, what are you doing here? Get back in the car, I’m almost done with this pretty, little Slayer! Her sister was funnier, I gotta say it!” he crooned, making something inside the purple-eyed girl snap.

She kicked him between his legs, sitting up in a nick of time, and hastily grasped her katana. She charged at him, tears spilling from her eyes, migling with blood, as she slashed his shirt open “Don’t you dare talking about her, you piece of shit!” she raved at him, swinging her sword to slit his throat open. She truly did not have anything to lose, she wanted nothing more than to see him dead.

Although Douma easily dodged her attack, he stared at her unfazed, unfolding his tessen to back the second slash unleashed by the furious woman. Fearing for Douma’s life and cursing his name for acting recklessly, almost as if he enjoyed playing with fire, you decided to help him in the only way you knew could work.

You launched yourself at her, confiding in the fact that you were probably physically stronger than her, although armless, and pushed her to the ground. You knew Muzan would have most likely disapproved your total lack of self-preservation, but you did not want any of them to die. When you wrapped your arms around Shinobu’s waist and roughly pushed her down to the ground, she gasped in surprised and her grip on the hilt of her sword loosened. You fell over her, the sound of the blade clattering behind you making you thank whoever watched out for you from the Paradise Gates.

“Holy shit!” Douma beamed, hiding his devious smile behind his fan, as he watched you pinning Shinobu’s wrists above her head.

“Who are you? I should have known that rat had hired another assassin! – she spat, narrowing her eyes at you as she tossed and turned underneath you – You did a good job in palying dumb! I thought you were one of this bastard’s girls!” she angrily stated.

Being spotted with a member of the ‘Kibutsuji gang’ implied that you were corrupted to the core too, did it not? You were not like them, though. You liked to believe you were still the kind, hardworking girl trying to graduate, the one who loved hanging out with the friends, the one who did not want to hurt anybody.

You shook your head, staring deep into her eyes “Trust me, I am not! – you asserted, feeling the familiar knot in your throat growing considerably – And Douma is not my boyfriend, for God’s sake!” you added shortly, averting your eyes from her contrived face only to assess Douma’s reaction before you proceeded in your suicidal task to keep her at bay.

“She wishes I was!” the silver-haired killer cooed, eyeing you maliciously from behind his dark sunglasses.

“Douma!” you snorted, rolling your eyes at him.

“Come on, we were about to fuck in the basement! And you were totally into it, do not deny it, Y/N-chan!” Douma complained, crossing his arms against his chest.

At this point, you were considering the idea of allowing Muzan to kill him. But you did not have enough time to spend on giving him a lecture. The clock was ticking and you needed to give it your best shot not to let this mess end up in a bloodbath. Inevitable, however, judging by Muzan’s tone during the call.

“Shinobu, right? – you blurted out, switching your attention back at the Slayer – You need to leave now!

“Argh, the hell with that, I don’t care! – Shinobu shouted, bucking her hips in vaim to flip you over – You can’t understand! He killed my sister nine months ago! Let me kill him and I’ll gladly take my leave! He took Kanae away from me!” she thundered, making your heart ache in your chest. Her sister. Douma had killed her sister.

Was Kanae a Slayer too? How did it happen?

Too many questions pestered your mind, but the roaring sound of a car rushing down the street made you three turn your heads at it. By the time your eyes landed on the black vehicle, your blood ran cold and you knew it was over. It was over for you, for Douma and for this crazy woman.

Muzan would have killed you all, painfully, slowly, discarding your bodies in a ditch right after it.

When the driver clapped on the brakes, you loosened your grip on Shinobu’s wrists, eyes rounded as you squeezed her shoulder “Run, run as fast as you can” you uttered, watching how she frowned at your suggestion.

Were you really letting her go? Who exactly were you?

She wanted to say something but she just bowed her head at you, collected her sword and ran off to the opposite direction. You heard a car door slam and heavy footsteps approaching you. He was there. He had arrived. You fearfully looked up at him, your eyes locking for a split second, and you thought you were going to die on the spot. The deadly glint in his eyes, the way his plum red irises seemed to swallow you whole made you unable to stand up from the ground.

His nostrils flared as he made his way to you, but Douma blocked his path. He stepped in front of you, taking his sunglasses off as he raised his hands apologetically “Muzan-sama, it’s not her fault—”.

“You’re right, it’s yours” the raven-haired man venomously spat, before punching him straight on the the nose. You gasped, watching as Douma fell in front of you for the harsh impact of Muzan’s fist. Blood dripped down his ringed fingers, as he tried to stop the flow, and you crawled towards him, checking on him.

“Goodness, Douma! Are you alright? I’m so sorry” you fretted, helping him to sit up. Why? Why did he have to hit him out of the blue?

Douma winced, waving his hand at you and shrugging “I should’ve seen it coming. I’m fine, sweetheart” he breathed out.

Sweetheart. Sweetheart. Was it a joke? According to Muzan it was. But the comedy was about to turn into a tragedy. How did he dare to call you in such an intimate way, huh?

“What the fuck did you say?” Muzan growled, ready to kick him in the guts, but this time you stood up, shielding the bleeding bodyguard behind you. You had enough. He had already done enough. Tears running down your cheeks, head high, you pushed Muzan’s chest in anger.

His eyes, boring into yours, widened at your audacity, as you confronted him. You were tired. He could tell it by the way your hooded eyes were puffy and swollen, or the way your frame trembled with every step you took.

“I think you’ve already done enough” you sternly said, eyes daggers on him.

Oh, you were crossing a line. Did you really feel in the position to tell him what to do? Were you not an insolent, high and mighty brat? He wanted to teach you a lesson, he really did. But he liked this part of you, your subtle way of challenging him was intriguing. It took a moment for him to elaborate what you had said and calculate what to do with you. However, he finally came up with a plan.

He grasped your jaw roughly, your faces so close you could feel his hot breath fanning your lips “You shut the fuck up, sweetheart. – he whispered coldly, making you gulp forcefully down – Didn’t I tell you to stay in the car, huh? Oh, but you have a kink for acting like a rebellious child, don’t you? Good, just good. That’s disobedience, love. I won’t let you go unpunished”.

And, before you could process what was happening, he dragged you back towards his car. You had not even noticed Kokushibo’s presence, before you heard Muzan addressing to him.

“Kokushibo, help that scumbag clean the scene. We’ll be back late tonight” he announced, commanding you to enter the vehicle. It was in that moment, when you hopped into his car, that you realised how mad Muzan was. You took a hint by the way he went zero to sixty in a split second and his grip on the steering wheel tightened to the point his knuckles turned white.

You were a dead bride walking.

Author note.

Hi there! The Fourth chapter is out! I hope you are going to like it and thank you so much for your support, guys! Muzan-sama is angry, but I am weak in the legs when he is upset. You know, the problem is he talks, I moan lol xD

Enough rambling, I know!

Let me know what you think about it! Likes, comments and reposts are appreciated!

Tags: @kakuchosbff @yazzzmints @bookandstar @z3r0art

[tomscumdump]

LOVE LOVE UR WRITING could I please get a fic of 2010 Tom smut of where he’s like a teacher and the reader is in college? Love your writing 🤭

A/n: of course enjoy!! <3 TOOK ME AGES TO WRITE always wanted a teacher Tom smut I can’t lie.

Nothing to say now? ★

2010 era!!

reader is 19!!

warnings:smut swearing reader is rebellious (at the start) angst?

MDNI!!

You were a rebellious parents kicked you out at a young age partying every night staying at your friends houses, with the some money you saved up you started college because you wanted a career at least to get you somewhere. But it wasn’t going so well you couldn’t care about grades, you talked back with teachers always having the last word. Getting into fights you almost had to leave college but you just shrugged it off.

It was a new day and you walked into music class but there was not your usual teacher. He had deep brown dark eyes had black braids over his shoulders and a bandana his lip piercing shimmering in the light, “So who’s this asshole?” You said while walking over to your desk. “This asshole is your new music teacher for the semester call me Mr. Kaulitz or Tom you choose” He said not wasting any time. (I’d call him that any day.)

After a while you started to get pretty bored so you decided to go out get some fresh air maybe light a cigarette? you walked up out of your seat, just to leave the classroom “And where do you think you’re going?” he spoke while writing the last thing on the whiteboard.

You rolled your eyes and turned around meeting his sharp gaze “Um getting some fresh air isn’t it obvious” crossing your arms together leaning against the doorframe, “you didn’t ask to lea-“ he got interrupted “Yeah yeah kiss my ass” you left the room not caring what was gonna happen.

You were probably gonna get another talk with the principal or whatever but did you care? Not at all you were sick of college and wanted to leave as quick as you could but still wanting to achieve something, 10 minutes or so later you came back the class was silent.

You sat back down in your seat eventually Tom came over his tall figure towering over the desk. “So you wanna tell me why you left class without my permission” he spoke calm but firm “Because I wanted fresh air this class is boring anyways.”

Your voice was raised a bit cause you were getting sick of him pushing you, this went on for a few minutes you were starting to get really pissed off, and so was Tom “Fuck sake can you stop getting up all in my business you aren’t my parents!!.” You yelled out not breaking eye contact.

Tom’s facial features was now tense he leaned down and whispered “Look sweetheart I’m getting sick of this are you gonna shut that pretty mouth of yours or do I have to shut it for you?” His voice was rough you were dead silent you didn’t know how to react no one has said that to you ever. He leaned back up looking down at you his eyes were filled with some sort of emotion you couldn’t describe?

-time skip

After a while class was finally over thank god you were packing your stuff up about to leave Tom stopped you. “Sorry you’re gonna have to stay for a while” he spoke his gaze directly on you looking you up and down you groaned and tried leaving pushing past him.

That was no use Tom grabbed you and pushed you against the wall “Are you always this fucking problematic in every class” He spat out You were quiet, you were hitting him trying to get out of his grasp but he already had a tight grip on your waist.

His other hand lifted your chin up to meet his eyes, you felt like you were about to collapse Tom’s gaze was mesmerising he smirked his tongue grazed over his lip piercing, next minute Toms lips crashed with yours his cold metal piercing pressing against your mouth which got you even more weak his lips were soft but very rough at the same time. His hands snaked their way down to your sides having a firm grip you whined giving his tongue access. (I didn’t know what to say. 🙏)

Your tongue was battling his trying to gain dominance Tom won of course no matter how much you wanted to stop you couldn’t it was too good, after a bit he pulled back your plump cherry red lips coated from his salvia. You couldn’t believe what just happened, But was Tom finished of teaching you a lesson? oh no.

“On the desk” He demanded you sat up on the desk he came over towering over you his hand rested on your thigh, while his lips travelled down your neck leaving some marks in their wake but not enough to be seen his hand moved up towards your inner thigh “May I?” Tom whispered his voice was so gentle so soothing (help my soul atp) you nodded his hand moved upwards till he reached your underwear, lightly using his thumb to press over your clothed clit.

Your lips were pursed trying not to make a sound your hips grinded against his hand wanting him to do more “wait Schatz I’ll give you what you want soon” Tom murmured out leaving a kiss on your cheek. Slowly he removed your underwear letting it fall down to your ankles he was in a daze, your pretty pink cunt was glistening “So pretty” his voice tangled with lust.

Tom moved your legs apart giving him more access he kneeled down and dipped his head between your legs without any warning his tongue develd deep into your cunt, “Fuck Tom!” You arched your back squirming a bit his grip on your thighs was that hard they were bound to leave marks tomorrow.

He lapped back and forth between your folds going harder each time, his lips moved up to attack on your sensitive clit. He sucked harshly against your clit causing a loud moan to escape your lips your thighs were about to suffocate him but did he care? no.

Tom’s hand moved up to kneed your breast your nipple getting hard underneath his touch. He wouldn’t stop his attack his tongue felt great against your cunt, “You taste s’good schatz” he mumbled vibrating against your clit. You couldn’t answer moans were escaping your mouth your knot in your stomach was begging for release at this point.

“S-shit Tom I’m close” you whined out your legs starting to shake “cum for me liebe” with those words your orgasm rode out cumming all over his tongue. Tom groaned he lapped at your folds one last time collecting any remaining juices. He stood up and pressed a kiss to your lips you grimaced tasting yourself Tom pulled away, helping you get yourself back together.

You packed your things but then Tom asked “So now are you gonna listen to me during my lesson?” He asked slightly amused his tongue moving across his bottom lip you looked back at him smiling and shrugged “I’ll think about it.” But one thing was true you were now gonna enjoy your music class.

@bunniesthoughts @jadedchar @memzyyy @madzandmore

A/n:this was a lot but I did pretty good :) but I hope you guys enjoyed keep sending me requests cause there amazing I’ll try and post more mwah bye cuties <33

[hana-no-seiiki]

yandere! rich! nerd oc x poor! popular! gn! reader short - midnight darling

guess who got recently got accepted into the biology course in ateneo and is binge watching gilmore girls as inspo? (it’s me. on cloud 9 rn augh-) have this as my tiny celebration. been a while since i wrote for midnight darling ehe.

starting our pride month posts w/ our genderfluid masochist nerd who technically is the most popular oc of mine, isaiah/Isabel!

cw/tw: bullying, harassment, toxic parents

status: unedited and rushed af

“Papatayin na talaga kita.”

You weren’t always the perfect pristine popular student. Acting didn’t come to you naturally. You had to learn through trial and error; through fire and metal. You didn’t always had an iron grip over your emotions and what slipped through.

As such, at that moment you first met Isaiah — who now went by another name — you couldn’t help but shower them with the hostility of cat seeing another enter its territory.

“I - I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to —!”

“When I make promises, I follow through with them.” You covered their mouth before he could even complete his stupid waste of an excuse, “I promised to bring you hell when you broke my project last semester, and I did.”

You recount the days you spent making sure Isaiah experienced true suffering; getting rid of their friends, destroying his family’s fortunes, putting his reputation through the mud and stomping on it til it bleeds so that even if you did nothing the rest of the students in your school would do the job for you.

But even then…

“I promised to the entire student body — to this entire school that I will be the one that uplifts it. That I will make it known throughout the country as the one that miraculously got a student to Mediasnoches.”

Tears escaped your eyes. How long has it been since the last time you legitimately cried? It had been so long that you started to think you were simply completely incapable of it. How could you cry when you were too busy to even feel? Hours and hours spent on studying, making notes, reviewing those notes at least ten times, making flashcards and schedules, drowning yourself in extracurriculars. Your schedule just didn’t have space to be a sobbing mess.

“I promised my mom and dad . . . na kahit ano man mangyari — ma . . .matatanggap . . . “ Your hand slipped and fell to your side. You legs give up, and any semblance of calm left your visage.

Your face covered in snot and tears was an unfamiliar sight to your classmate. He who had studied it day and night, hated it, loved it, cherished it. He had no doubt it was the most beautiful he had ever seen you been. But the problem was that he wasn’t the reason you were like this. At least not completely. It was their stupid parent’s fault for influencing the results.

His arms encircled your form as he cooed.

“I’ll … give up my spot for you okay? Don’t cry. You deserve it alright? I don’t. I’m just a kid with too much money on their hands like you said…”

So, until the time they could make you cry with their actions and their actions alone, your sobs had to stop.

[ TRANSLATIONS ] :

Papatayin na talaga kita — I will really (fucking) kill you.

Na kahit ano man mangyari — That whatever happens

Matatanggap — Will be accepted

[babiebom]

Where they fall in omegaverse Dynamics (stardew edition)

A/N: no i don’t know what’s wrong with me but now we all get to experience the inner workings of my mind :) enjoy OBVIOUSLY KIDS ARE NOT INCLUDED I was gonna do everyone but decided I didn’t know enough about a lot of the characters so only people I know :)this is hella old btw

Tw: sexual mentions, cursing, some insults to certain characters but like that’s not new here.

Genre: shitpost, headcanons

Masterlist

Alpha- top of the hierarchy. Dominant, and usually in charge. Hot heads and breeders.

Abigail- i think she would be an alpha that acts like a beta or omega. No one would actually know she’s an alpha until she loses her temper or goes off scent blockers or something.

Alex- typical dudebro and will be doing the breeding thank you. I feel like he would be a stereotypical alpha like this is a given.

Sebastian- DONT KILL ME PLS this is kinda biased because I know for a fact that I am literally Penny but an actual person and he is the one I am attracted to so naturally I want to put him here. I am probably delusional but I also think he could take charge so hmph.

Shane- can’t see him being bred bc i think he would be doing the breeding. When he takes control of his insecurities and stuff I think he could be super confident and leader like. Just needs to not be depressed.

Pierre- it’s his personality tbh. Like while I desperately do not want him to be in this category based on how much I dislike him, he would go into this category purely because of how he acts. He wants the most money, he’a the “man of the house” and provider, he has a temper he would just be an annoying alpha.

Kent- sexy hawt military man is obviously an alpha. There is no way he is being bred, there is no way he is going to be the homemaker, being an alpha is literally the only thing that makes sense for him.

Mr.Qi - he gives off alpha vibes, no omega or beta could be this confident and mysterious for absolutely no reason other than just being that way idk.

Evelyn - she gives off the vibes that when she and George were younger they were the “it’s fine/HE ASKED FOR NO PICKLES” couple. I think she could whoop somebody’s ass back in the day.

Robin- she is the woman with a business, she is providing, she is building, she is alpha no question about it.

Gunther- it’s the way he tips his hat idk. Also the way he’s just like “oh you don’t have any cool artifacts? Get out of my face then.” Maybe not that mean but like vibes.

Sandy- HAVE YOU SEEN HER? she is alpha, the would never be a beta or omega that is not her style at all sorry.

Marlon- man kills monsters for a living. Like no omega is going to waste time on that or even do that if I’m honest. Leave monster killing to the people who don’t have other things to do.

Pam- she gives off alpha that had their omega leave them vibes and that’s why she’s a crappy mother because it was not supposed to be her job.

Lance- literally a fighter/adventurer. The man protects and attacks he has to be an alpha, there is no way an omega can do this, and due to him being an active adventurer, and him being protective makes him more alpha than beta.

Olivia- an alpha mother that wants her beta son(spoiler) to be more like her. She active in getting money, or at least I think she has stocks. And she’s more ambitious than I think an omega or beta would be.

Andy-is this because he gives off asshole vibes? Mayhaps. He just seems like he’s an alpha whose family left him so he’s bitter at the world. A corpo slave to so where else would he go?

Suki- boss bitch that actually sneaks into the capital(or whatever it is) and steals and gets other people to give her contraband so she can sell it to bitches at a high price for her risking her life. Would never bow down to anyone.

Beta- in the middle simply because they are neither dominant nor submissive. They do not give off smells nor do they have heats or ruts. Basic people tbh.

Emily- she is just vibes. No amount of sex or heats or ruts or pheromones will bother her. She is above that and is too busy making clothes for birds.

Leah- I think she would literally just be middle ground because she gives off those vibes. Also because I think she could possibly end up with either an alpha or omega, it literally doesn’t matter to her.

Maru- she is literally just science. I am sorry but there is no time for breeding and going feral because of heats, she needs to make this robot and she needs to make it now.

Harvey- I also would’ve put him in Omega but since he is a doctor I feel like that means he is a beta. Like I don’t think alpha or omegas would be able to have this job since instincts and stuff are a major part in how they act. Betas would be able to ignore everything else and just work idk.

Clint- doesn’t give omega vibes but definitely is not an alpha. Like not to jump on the Clint hate train, but he gives off angry beta vibes that wishes he was an alpha. He doesn’t have confidence, and he seems like a loser tbh. He probably wishes he was an alpha to get Emily, or even any girl that he likes, but doesn’t realize that she and maybe even the rest don’t really care if he’s an alpha or not so he’s mad for nothing.

Morris- he is literally just a worker bee. No sex, no love, just working and getting to the top and having money. The man is only ruled by money, no amount of good smelling things and sexy prospects will entice him.

Willy- a man who just wants to fish. He also gives off alpha vibes, but I think he is too comfortable to be around and too chill and level headed to be an alpha. Love him.

Magnus- I think he just magically made himself a beta in order to not have any distractions. Was married once, it was a mistake, he impregnated a person that lives in Pelican Town (*cough* Caroline *cough*) and she went back to her husband so he doesn’t want any other distractions. It’s only time for magic and protecting the town.

Linus- cannot be an alpha or omega and be comfortable living alone in a tent. He is just a nature man and it would not make any sense for him to be anything but a beta.

Demetrius- like father like daughter, the only thing that matters is science he just somehow ended up with a hot wife. She is happy being a provider and he is happy doing his science.

Grandpa- I have no idea I refuse to put him under either because it’s either admitting he is fuckable and submissive or dominant and a fucker. Absolutely not.

Lewis- hate him he has baby balls with how he treats Marnie, yeah he’s a leader being mayor, but no true alpha would act like this. He’s an asshole that is making himself seem like an even bigger asshole in an attempt to seem like an alpha.

Victor- is only ambitious about things he cares about, which is similar to the others on this list. Doesn’t wish to really do anything with his life other than what he is passionate about, like bridges.

Susan- all she wants to do is be on her farm as far as I know. I would’ve put her in alpha but she doesn’t give off those vibes she just seems normal? Like she’s able to take charge but won’t if she doesn’t have to?

Omega - definition of submissive and breedable. At the bottom of the hierarchy and their main purpose is to breed and serve the alphas. Sadge.

PENNY- the literal definition of submissive and breedable. Like yes? This is her actual dream? She would love this.

Haley- has the personality of an Alpha but is not one. Just extremely bratty. The right person will make her submit naturally and not just because of her status.

Sam- sweet boy Sam is deffo an omega. Maybe not super submissive but I think that underneath the childishness he would be a good homemaker. Like I think that his relationship with his younger brother shows that he is on the more nurturing side rather than the I have to provide side.

Elliott- Elliott stans don’t hate me. But he gives off worshiper vibes and not the person being worshipped. Maybe it’s his love notes and letters but I think he would do good with an alpha he could serenade all day.

Caroline- I feel like only an omega could deal with Pierre. She always complains about him working all the time and how he behaves but she never does anything about it. Omega behavior.

Jodi- an omega that hates being an omega. She is in charge of child rearing, and is the homemaker but hates it. Wishes she could be a beta and wishes she could’ve waited to get married and have kids. She is so unhappy this is her biology.

George- Evelyn’s bitch. I’m sorry. But like we all know that George is Evelyn’s sub. Idc.

Marnie- the most obvious out of the villagers that isn’t a bachelorette. Like yearns for a family and marriage and romance. She wants it, she needs it, unfortunately attached herself to an asshole.

Gus- yes he is a business man, but all he cares about is feeding everyone and providing a place for them to Hang out. He is an omega that found his calling in serving people instead of having kids and we love him for it.

Sophia- this girl isn’t Alpha at all. Like bffr she’s depressed, shy, and quiet. And her hobby is cosplay. Girl is one hundred percent an omega. Even though she owns her parents company, I think she isn’t like business motivated, only is happy that it’s this company specifically and allows her to garden idk.

Claire- she is different from the others on this list. Because she is motivated, she wants to be an actress and does work and provide for herself. I think though if she met the right person that would provide while she chases her dreams she would like it. Even her hobbies seem soft to me (reading, ballet. )

[dawnagustd]

MU$IC FAIRY || MYG

❃ Festivaled Away: Burned Memories hosted by @bangtanbathhouse​  

⤞ Ticket: Playlist ⤞ Main Event: Based on a Playlist ⤞ Games: fucking playlist | sensory deprivation | breath play | phone sex | oral fixation

⤞ title: mu$ic fairy  ⤞ pairing: rapper!yoongi x podcaster!female oc/reader ⤞ genre: smut   ⤞ summary: When Yoongi’s career started to kick off, he never imagined he’d have a secret admirer this early in the game. Sure, random women throw themselves at him all the time, but this one has a different approach when it comes to getting his attention.  ⤞ word count: 11k ⤞ warnings: strong language | sexual tension | pet names | dirty talk | guided masturbation | ball fondling | dom/sub dynamics | sensory deprivation | breath play | phone sex | oral fixation | mutual masturbation | protected sex | ruined orgasms | orgasm denial | hard dom!yoongi | sub!reader | blindfolding kinda? | rough sex | choking | degradation | face down doggy/ass shots | hair pulling | squirting | ass slapping | nipple sucking | multiple orgasms | blowjob | face/throat fucking | yoongi moaning(yes that’s a warning) | oral (male and female receiving) | face slapping | finger sucking | clit biting | gagging | bdsm themes | orgasm control | cum swallowing | praising | cum swapping | forced orgasms | kissing but not the cute kind | aftercare | yoongi’s harsh(no other way to put it) | crying(the good kind) | sex & music | manhandling | sex with no feelings | marking/biting/scratching | possessive!yoongi(like he’s obsessed with marking her up) | pain kink | you’re either going to love me or hate me for the ending | pov switches | lying ass heauxs | toxic behavior because they are wild lol | alcohol consumption | the oc is slightly curvy and brown like me😜 ⤞ rating: 18+  ⤞ a/n: This got way out of hand lol. I tried to write a drabble but it just didn’t work out. I need to first and foremost give a special thanks to my beta readers Bambi @agustdealer & Ryen @kithtaehyung​ for not only looking over this for me but listening to me cry and rip this story apart over and over lol(there may still be some mistakes because I’m a clown and added stuff they didn’t read). I really appreciate your dedication and faith in me. Also, praise needs to be given to the ever so talented Ryen @/kithtaehyung for this amazing banner. She slayed as always. Lastly, thank you Madame Amai @kkulmoon​ for hosting this event. I hope you all enjoy it. Don’t forget to comment, reblog, and leave feedback to let me know what you think.💖

Playlist: Vulture Island V2 by ROB49 ft Lil Baby | It’s Givin’ by Latto | Whole Lotta Money by BIA ft. Nicki Minaj | Thick by O.T. Genasis ft. 2Chainz | MMM MMM by Kali ft. ATL Jacob | Have Mercy by Chlöe Bailey

Read on AO3

Thank you for completing our questionnaire. Please stay on the line and allow us to find you the perfect match…

With a few basic questions and a two minute wait, he was paired with a woman that sounds rather beautiful. He imagines that she is, at least. Well, he hopes. 

He’s been chatting with her for about an half of a minute, and he’s feeling her. So he doesn’t hang up when the official timer begins.

“So umm…how confidential is this?” He can never be too careful. This could ruin his reputation if someone found out.  “You said you’ve done this before, right?”

“Yeah, it’s safe, love. Trust me.” 

He hopes you’re right. 

“After you complete the questionnaire, they pair you with a random person who has similar preferences.”

He pushes the worrisome thoughts to the back of his mind and proceeds to pleasure himself before time is up. He’s currently living paycheck to paycheck, so fifteen minutes was all he could afford.

“Should I lead or…?”

He scoffs out a laugh. “I got it, babe. Just vibe with me.”

“Okay.” Your response is through small labored breaths. You must be broke as shit too because you aren’t wasting any time. “C-Can you put on some music or something?...I umm, can’t do it  when it’s this quiet.”

He grabs his laptop and allows whatever track is next to travel through the speakers.

Fuck. He forgot about the beats he was playing for someone earlier. Hopefully, it doesn’t ruin your mood before he can change it. “Sorry,” he mutters a bit embarrassed.

“No, this is fine.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s sensual,” you pant. His brows knit together in curiosity and he momentarily ceases his movements. “The bass complements your voice well, actually. Did you umm…?”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“I like it.” The little moan behind those words has him standing at attention. In any second, he could blow his load.

“Yeah? What else do you like?...Tell me what gets your attention.”

There’s a pause. “Or would you rather me shut up?”

“The opposite. I wanna hear you…your voice. You sound hot,” you giggle and it’s one of the most soothing things he’s ever heard. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart. You don’t sound bad either…Just hearing you laugh is making me hard.”

He hears a whimper; one of the sexiest, neediest whines to ever grace his ears. “Tell me what you just did. Don’t be shy.”

“I—”

You hesitate, so he steps in.

“Touching your pussy, huh?”

He senses through the phone how worked up he’s getting you. You’ve started panting and moaning out your words shamelessly.

“Mmhm, my clit.”

He chuckles and whispers of curses come through the phone.

“Do me a favor?” you agree and he continues. “Move a little lower and dip your fingers in your pussy. Tell me how wet it is.”

He uses his spit for lubrication and tightens his fist around his cock. He imagines it was your walls snuggled around him, pumping his length as you bounce up and down. Something inside of him believes that you’re pretty, with a nice ass too. A really nice ass, that’s what his fantasies project at least.

“Fuck. How many?” you ask him.

Damn. You’re obedient as well. That’s hot, really hot. 

“As many as your pretty cunt can take.”

When he hears a muffled cry, his bottom lips tucks between his teeth while he concentrates on the squelching sounds coming through the phone. You both move in sync with the music and allow it to take away the nervous jitters the both of you had previously. His cock starts twitching in his palm when your sweet little moans move through his ears.

“How many did you use, sweetheart?”

You answer him in a high-pitched voice. You’re close too, he can hear it. Your eyes are probably screwed shut, trying to keep it together to prolong the call, but he has to go before his bill skyrockets. He needs to get you off—quickly.

“Two. Three, now. I needed more.”

“Greedy, aren’t we?”

“No…I’m just really horny.”

He has to smile at that. “Yeah? Me too. This is good, but I'd rather be balls deep in you.”

“Fuck, I’d like it.”

Sweat beads on his forehead, but he just wipes it away with the back of his hand and keeps going. The music has changed to something more upbeat and he knows this is his shot for home plate.

“Really? Is that why you’re making a mess? I can hear it, you know...you’re so fucking wet.”

“Shit, I wanna come,” your words are barely recognizable and you just keep begging him for more, “please help me.”

“Fuck, sweetheart. Take your fingers out and rub your clit. Spread that sticky shit all over it and get yourself off.”

He throws his head back and curls his toes, bracing himself for the impact of his orgasm. This has to top he sexual encounters and he’s not even touching you. It’s just something about you that’s driving him insane. He doesn’t even know your name, but he doesn’t need to, not when all that matters now is the pleasure of this experience. 

“I’d lick it all up too, eat you out until you cry and forget your own fucking name. You want that, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, I wanna feel you so bad.”

“I know, baby. You’d let me take you anyway I’d like, wouldn’t you?...I could bend you over? Dick you down with your legs pinned by your head. I fuck you up, princess and you’d never want another.”

“Fuck, I’m gonna—”

Dead silence. 

“Are you kidding me? Fuck!”

The phone hangs up just as you both reach your climaxes. Disappointment is thick in the air as his quick strokes gradually begin to slow. He groans and curses angrily at the loss, and grips fistfuls of his hair in frustration. Out of all the people for this to happen to; it had to be him. Just when he thought his luck couldn’t get any worse, this happens and proves that life is just out to get him.

“Something’s gotta give, man. I can’t keep living like this.”

So, he shrugs off his needs and does what he does best—work. He puts on his headphones and hopes that one of these tracks will be the one that opens the door to all of his dreams.

Two years later…

“This is your boy Jay Millz, and you're listening to Q107.9. We got my man Suga in the motherfuckin’ building. This guy has the hottest track on the radio right now, bro. He’s gonna be chilling with us for a minute while we dip into the Rush Hour Mix with DJ Reign. Suga! How you doin’, man?...”

He nods and greets the guy behind the mic. They extend their arms for a brief handshake before he continues. “What’s good? Glad to be here, man.” 

Yoongi looks around the table and sighs. He’s tired of the same fucking questions. 

What’s next for you? How does it feel to be the hottest rapper out right now? Will you sign with SlaughterHouse Records?

As if he’d leave a crumb behind for the tabloids to fight over. Yoongi’s been careful; really careful. He’s worked hard to maintain a decent reputation; besides a few run-ins with the law. But overall, he’s avoided anything that could damage the image he’s created for his pseudo. 

Many have tried to tear him down, or trip him up. However, he knows how to handle those people, and that’s what he’s about to do when the woman across from him asks the question lingering on the tip of her tongue. He knows it’s coming; he can tell by the way her nails tap on the table. She waits for silence and then she goes for the kill.

“So…Suga, you know I have to ask.”

The other co host sighs with an exhausted eyeroll. “Bee, please don’t start.”

“I have to. The people wanna know,” she argues and Yoongi can feel his head starting to throb. 

It’s bad enough that he hates these things and they cannot stop themselves from trying to dabble in his personal life.

“Anyway, are you currently dating anyone, Suga? A fan? A girlfriend?...etc?”

Yoongi looks to his left and gives her a lazy smirk, just fucking with her mind a bit before he responds.

“Nahh, I’m good. Gotta stay focused, you feel me?”

He takes a sip from his cup and savors the cold liquor before he gulps it down, watching the poor girl slump her shoulders in defeat. However, he was a fool to think this was over.

“And what about Mu$ic Fairy?” the interviewer to his right asks.

“What about her?”

He sets down his cup and turns in the man’s direction.

“She dropped a new playlist last night. I know a lot of us would have gone to see about that by now.”

Yoongi scoffs out a laugh. “Well, I’m not a lot of us, am I?”

“Damn right,” Jay chimes in from across the table. He notices Bee shaking her head in the corner and he couldn’t agree with her more. This is ridiculous. 

This girl, “Mu$ic Fairy” or whatever she calls herself is nothing but a fucking distraction. No one can resist bringing her up when he’s in the room. There’s no fucking escape.

At first, it was cute. A few Spotify playlists dropped every once in a while with a rather risqué cover just to tease, but now it’s an entire movement. Some fans are even calling themselves fairies, and wearing themed attire to his performances. 

He fucking hates it. The wings, the glitter, the overly sweet tones in which they speak. Of course, he appreciates his fans and they’re fun to look at, but Yoongi’s a picky guy. And if that’s the kind of girl you are, then you aren’t his type.

“I would’ve probably hit her up after she dropped the Fre@kii Ho @nthem! playlist.” 

Jay bumps fists with the other guy host after he says that and they have a “same” moment.

Bee adds her input after it quiets down.

“Well, I’m going to have to agree with—”

“Do not…say her name around me,” Yoongi intervenes.

He can’t; not when he has a show tonight. Just hearing her name pisses him off. 

Another reason he hates doing interviews is because someone always has to mention…

“Oh, are you talking about that podcaster?...Damn, what’s her name…”

Jay struggles to remember while snapping his fingers, so Bee attempts to help him out. However, Yoongi cuts her off before she can speak of the devil.

“Don’t you dare.”

The woman once again backs down and carries on.

“Well anyway, I agree with you know who. She makes valid points about how none of these people were after him before he started making industry music. They don’t really fuck with the real Suga.”

Yoongi only nods his head because the annoying bitch behind that podcast is right. This Mu$ic Fairy chick started showing up when he became popular and so did her followers. But that���s about one of the only things he agrees with. Everything else is out of line. This woman doesn’t know anything about him, but yet always has an input to give when it comes to his music.

One of the interviewers notices his change in demeanor and senses the hatred he has for this chick. He steps in and changes the subject quickly.

“Shit, we’re almost out of time. That’s what happens when you’re chillin’ with one of the greatest to ever do it.”

Yoongi shakes his head. “Nahh, man. Don’t put that on me yet. Give me some time.”

“Many would have to disagree with you there, bro. Matter of fact, you should ask them. Why don’t you tell the listeners where you’re gonna be tonight?”

“Yuh, tonight you can catch me at the Varsity. Tickets sold out, but yeah…fuck with me.”

The interviewers briefly share a round of applause before Jay concludes.

“Alright. You heard him. Tickets sold out, but who knows ladies…he might just take you home for the after party, right bro?”

Yoongi can only press his lips in a straight line because anyone that knows him, knows that a piece of ass is the last thing on his mind right now, but for the sake of some poor girl’s imagination…

“Yeah, we’ll see.”

And because of this, he’s probably going to have to fight his way out of the club.

The rush Yoongi gets from being on stage always lingers in his veins even after the music stops. The crowd keeps the energy going and going. They scream his name, applaud his techniques, and praise his stage presence like he’s a king. He is, in a way. Suga is the king of this city; there isn’t a guy who doesn’t want to be him or a woman who doesn’t want to fuck him.

Typically, temptation is easy to resist since his career leaves him little time for extracurricular activities. However, sometimes he just can’t allow something to slip away. Not again.

“You killed it tonight, man.” 

Yoongi doesn’t even spare his manager a glance as he brushes past him. His train of vision is focused on that little black dress swaying through the crowd. If he takes his eyes off of you for a second, he knows he’ll lose you in the mass of people.

“Thanks, dude. I’ll talk to you in a bit.”

He doesn’t know what was said in response because he’s out of range within seconds. He’s a man on a mission, and he’s not even sure of why. 

You’re beautiful, there’s no denying that—and sexy. But something else about you is just luring him in, and he thinks he knows why. At least, that’s his excuse for following you outside of the club. 

It’s dangerous, of course, since anyone could be waiting to get him alone. But tonight he can’t let you just leave without a word. He’s done that too many times. You show up to show after show, stare him down as if he’s your last meal, then leave without even a wave or goodbye.

Yoongi’s had enough; this ends now.

“Hey!”

You immediately stop in your tracks at the sound of his voice. He wastes no time trying to eliminate the distance between you, but you dash down an adjacent alley before he can get close enough to talk to you. 

He follows you, and calls out to you one more time before you halt and finally respond to him.

“Hey there.” 

Your voice is so dulcet, but edgy…and familiar. Where has he heard it before? 

“Looking for me?” The closer he gets the more clearer the sound becomes and eventually it clicks. He knows exactly why he knows your voice.

But you aren’t the person he thought you were, and you’re the last person he wants to see.

“You’re that podcaster, aren’t you?” Yoongi questions, approaching you carefully. At least his mind still holds the common sense to be cautious. 

When you look over shoulder, it’s like his breath leaves his body. He’s seen his share of gorgeous women, but you are out of this world. There’s no way you could be her. But everything is telling him that you are.

“Depends…who wants to know?” 

Yoongi doesn’t know where to look first. Your face or the body that comes along with it. “You or the bitches who want to be like me?”

The moment he’s close enough to hear the cockiness oozing from your voice, he knows it’s you without a doubt. He can feel the same aura radiating from you now that he does whenever he listens to those podcasts. You’re her; he’s a hundred percent sure of it.

“So you’re bold behind the mic, but now you’re too pussy to look at me?”

You turn around on queue, adorning a wide smirk that he’d give anything to wipe off your gorgeous face. “Better?”

Yoongi nods slowly and takes a few steps towards you. With every step he takes you move backwards, allowing him to corner you and in the dimly lit alley. 

“It’s funny because with all the shit you talk on air, I didn’t take you to be a runner,” he points out.

“I don’t think you know me well enough to assume that, love.”

“But you know me well enough to critique my music?”

You hum. “I do, actually.”

“Really?” When your back nearly touches the brick wall, he leans in a little closer. You show no signs of uneasiness so he plants his palm on brick structure and hovers over your shorter frame. “What makes you believe that?”

“Because I’ve been a fan for a very long time. Ever since your underground days. You’ve never noticed me…but I was there.”

When he gives you a look, you roll your eyes. Of course, he doesn’t believe a word that pretty mouth of yours spits out.

“Your first real gig was on your birthday. You were a senior in high school and you invited your parents to the show. You looked around and when you finally saw them you smiled like a fucking dork.”

Damn. You read him like a book, but that doesn’t make up for the negativity spilled on your behalf.

“So you’ve been following me to shows so you can build up the repertoire for your little podcast? For how long?”

You shake your head in denial. 

“I followed you because you’ve always been my favorite artist. I admire you, and I’ve been around since the beginning. Even when nobody was fucking with your music…your real music. The kind you’re passionate about.”

Yoongi scoffs. “Like you would know anything about that.”

“But, I do. That’s why I’m so pissed at you. All you make is industry music now, and I’m just…bored, I guess.”

You’re cute when you shrug your shoulders, but your eyes are lethal. He feels like he’s being stripped bare under your gaze. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say you were silently flirting with him, but they’d be a reach.

“So find a hobby,” he suggests.

“I did find hobbies. The podcast, the playlists, the—”

“Wait,” Yoongi’s face contorts with confusion at those words, believing that he’s misheard you, “...you said playlists. What playlists?”

Your smirk returns and Yoongi suddenly feels his cock slowly rising in his underwear. Why do the heavens place the demons in the most beautiful women; he’ll never understand.

“You know which playlists I’m talking about, love…” your hand makes a move to touch his shoulder but he grabs your arm to prevent contact, “they were made for you.”

“Made for me? What does…”

Oh, damn.

“Are you…?”

“Well, it sure isn’t the whore in there dressed like Tinkerbell. You think I’d wear that shit?” Your laugh is so intoxicating; he almost cracks a smile just standing there watching you. “I don’t need all of that to grasp your attention. I never have.”

Yoongi shakes his head. All this time you were right under his nose. Two women he could never stand to mention are placed right in front of him, hiding behind a goddess. It’s pure comedy; his reaction to the news should have him pulling away from you and heading in the opposite direction.

But can admit that he judges a book by its cover; you aren’t what he thought you were. You’re different, interesting…someone he’d actually like to have underneath him in the opportunity ever presents itself. But he’s confused…why him? Why go through all the trouble if the music is all you care about? That whole Mu$ic Fairy concept has completely fucked with his mind. 

How does he go from having no interest to wanting to see what it’s all about? There has to be more to it; otherwise, it makes no sense. You two are strangers. 

He shouldn’t crave the warmth beneath his palm while his hand grips your forearm, but he does. The skin to skin contact should not arouse him so easily, but there’s no denying the bulge forming in his pants. Despite all of this, Yoongi keeps his composure the best he can; you’re too cocky for him to just slip up and expose himself.

“Out of all the times to fuck with me…” he pauses when your beautiful glossed lips part to blow the strawberry bubblegum you’ve been chewing. Your tongue darts out to pop and collect the medium-sized pink bubble, and he can feel his knees buckle when you suck it back in. 

He’s usually not this fond of people and gum, but the way you handle it, the way you slowly rolled it over your tongue in preparation was a fucking sinful, and he can’t get enough of watching you do it. 

“Why tonight?” he asks you.

You bat your thick lashes, probably knowing good and well what you’re doing to him. He knows you’re taunting him, silently asking for him to make a move, but he won’t. You’ll have to beg him for it.

“Because…I’m horny, and I’m tired of waiting for your clueless ass to figure this out.”

Yoongi scoffs. “Bullshit.” 

He looks down as your finger loops underneath one of his chains and tugs him closer, something he wouldn’t allow anyone to do, but somehow you already earned privileges. You don’t know how dangerous of a game you’re playing with him, but he silently prays you’ll get to find out. He’d give anything to bend over the hood of his car and—

“And, I think you owe me something,” you inform, placing your other hand on his shoulder once he slides his to your waist.

“What might that be, love?”

Your smirk widens as you hypnotize him with your brown orbs. He can smell your perfume and flavored gum even better from this proximity, and your scent makes him feel like he’s in some sort of blissful haze—intoxicated by the smell of you. It’s no secret that he wants you bad; he just can’t let you know that. Not until you tell him why you’re doing all of this.

“An orgasm.”

Everything grows quiet after you articulate those words. It only takes him a couple of seconds to remember, and when his mind processes it all, his brain nearly malfunctions as he tries to speak.

“You’re fucking with me,” he insists.

“You should know by now that I’m tired of the games, Yoongi.” His body shutters when you use his real name. Something he’d normally go off about, but he never wants you to stop saying it. He needs to hear you say it again; for an entirely different reason. “You can tell me to fuck off, if you want.”

He blinks a few times, not realizing he was just standing there and not saying anything.

“No, no. I’m just–wow…I never expected you to remember me.”

“Why wouldn’t I? It’s not everyday you’re matched with your favorite rapper on a sex hotline,” you wink and Yoongi’s mouth falls open.

“You knew it was me the whole time?...and you didn’t say anything?”

You nod. “Yeah, I did. Your voice, your demeanor; I knew from the start, but I played along because you obviously weren’t on the call to talk about mixtapes. I just wanted you to enjoy yourself, I guess.”

“This is fucking crazy.”

Yoongi’s speechless. That was kind, and you kept it a secret all this time. Suddenly, all of this seems kind of sexy. It’s a secret he could have been in on if only he had read between the lines. However, he knows now, and it’s still technically still a secret…if it stays between you and him.

Your lips are once again his main focus; he’s so close to living the fantasies he had of you all those nights he wondered about how you handled yourself after the phone call ended. Did you come? Or was your mood ruined like his? He sure hopes not, because you were incredible and if anyone deserved to finish, it should have been you. 

He was right about you too. You are sexy, and the longer he stands here with you, the harder it is for him to hold back on his urges. But hearing your needy voice breaks him entirely.

“How much longer am I going to have to wait for it, Yoongi?”

All regards for his reputation goes out the window. He looks towards both ends of the alley before he makes his move. Anyone could be watching, but once he feels your hands sliding up his body, he decides that that is no longer his concern.

“Come here.”

Yoongi grabs you by your throat, but doesn’t squeeze or choke you. He just wants you closer, and your eyes tell him you understand where he’s going from.

“I live 20 minutes away from here, think you can wait that long?”

“Do I have a choice?” you reply and that sass is what gets him riled up.

He doesn’t think twice about kissing your pillow soft lips. He’s been staring at them, wishing he could feel them, taste them, and now he is and he already can’t get enough. The level of sweetness on his taste buds is sinful, but it’s one addiction he’d never give up. 

His tongue enters your mouth without any resistance from you, and he eagerly explores its depths, getting familiar with the woman wrapped in his arms as if he has all the time in the world with you. Your moans sends vibrations through his throat when he lifts your leg, nuzzling his crotch against your heat. 

Yoongi would fuck you right now while he has you pinned against this wall but that just wouldn’t satisfy his thirst for you. You’ve been teasing him for too long for him to just rush this. It took two years to lead up to this moment, a quickie would never do it any justice.

“I need you to be on your best behavior until we get to my place,” he tells you through his slightly labored breaths.

“And if I don’t?”

His features harden. 

“Then you won’t get anything, now come on. Let’s dip before one of your friends sees me without security.” 

Or…before he changes his mind. He’s had plenty of bad ideas, but this tops the list.

Breathtaking.

It’s the only thing you can think about as your eyes scan over the sleek hood of the Lamborghini Gallardo. The man’s got some taste, you have to admit. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be taking you to his place. You like the fact that he’s picky, but always chooses correctly.

You drink in the sight before—Yoongi standing there in his stage outfit, complimenting his car. The vehicle’s custom, all white except for the tires and the heavily tinted windows. You could only quiver at the image of him driving it, and when it actually happens, your mind and your mouth start to go in different directions.

He asks you basic questions like your name and where you’re from; you can only hope you’ve given him the correct answers because you cannot break away from the visual of him gripping the wheel with one hand while he’s laid back in his seat. His jewelry glistens and shines even in the darkness of his car, but your eyes still fight through the nearly blinding twinkle so you can watch the man behind it all.

You’ve wanted him since you first saw him. He came to a pep rally at your high school and you fell in love with his music and his sound—his voice especially. Sure he was a cutie, still is. But he had so much hunger, so much passion for music that you felt him on a spiritual level. 

He did so well on his first performance, and you remember telling your friends how much you wanted to listen to his Soundcloud when the event was over. Of course, they laughed and thought he sucked because he didn’t fit their visual standards, but now…they probably wish they’d been a little more invested in him.

“Can you stop doing that and answer my question?” 

There it is again. That voice. It drives you crazy; when he said hello to you on that hotline, you knew without a doubt you were talking to your favorite rapper.

“Wha–Doing what?”

“Eye fucking me and biting your lip like that. Do you want me to pull over?” 

Well.

You open your mouth to speak but he interjects.

“Actually, never mind. Don’t even answer that. Certain things I don’t need in my head while I’m operating a vehicle.”

Your neck and face heat up. If only he knew that you aren’t as confident as you appear. He’s hot, but the fact that he doesn’t know it makes him hotter.

“Sorry,” you turn towards the window so you can smile. You don’t want to feed his ego. No matter how much he denies it, he’s cocky as hell. If he knows you’re gawking over him simply driving, he’ll run with it. “...What did you ask me?”

A slow exhale leaves his lips, like he’s slightly annoyed and you should be offended, but damn—it was kind of sexy.

“I just wanted to know what you do for a living. How can you afford to travel and come to shows all the time? ...I’m just curious.”

“Why? You think I’m selling my—”

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

“You were thinking it, and the answer is ‘no’. And no, I don’t have an OnlyFans either…probably should, though. I’d make bank,” you shrug.

“Look, I know you aren’t doing any of that. Honestly, you seem kind of selfish with the goods anyway, but…tell me how you keep up. That’s all I’m saying. Podcasts bring in that much money?”

“No they don’t, especially when you do them for free. I’m a writer. I write songs and I sell them to some of your favorite artists.”

Yoongi whistles. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Name a few.”

“This isn’t roll call, babe. If you wanna look up my credentials, you know my name now…Google me.”

“Oh, I will.”

“Fine,” you scoff.

When you look forward, you notice that you’re entering a gated community. Yoongi lets down his window and waves at the on-duty guard before the older man opens the automatic gate. 

After driving past many luxurious homes, Yoongi pulls into a driveway and uses a clicker to open the garage door. 

“We’re here,” he announces.

His home is lovely, and you’re in awe by the set up and interior design once you enter. You’re impressed, most guys don’t spend much thought on this level of organization. 

Yoongi leads you up the stairs and into his bedroom. You can feel the butterflies in your stomach fluttering more and more as you get closer to the top of the stairs. Your knees buckle slightly when he opens the door, but your eyes still look in every direction once you’ve made it inside.

It’s dark, but you can still make out the colors that fill the room. Blacks and grays with white walls. His bed is draped with a dark set; you can’t help but find it inviting. And it’s huge; you imagine he must be a wild sleeper because you couldn’t imagine sleeping in a bed that large alone.

“I love your home, Suga.”

He waves his hand. “Thanks, but you don’t have to call me that. You didn’t call me that earlier.”

“I didn’t?”

“Nope.” He shakes his head and tells you that you can make yourself comfortable while he disappears into his closet. When he returns with clothes, you tilt your head with curiosity. “I’m gonna go shower, don’t get too nosey while you’re in here by yourself.”

“You’re leaving me? Why can’t I join you?”

Yoongi’s eyes widen for a second and a hand runs through his hair while he ponders over his answer. “Because umm…”

You crane your neck trying to coax an answer but he still stammers.

“It’s…you know.”

You smile. He’s kind of adorable, in a way.

“Too intimate?”

“Exactly.”

Your head lolls back while you laugh and Yoongi huffs in annoyance as he makes his way to the bathroom. 

“What am I supposed to do while you’re in there?” you call out and he stops to turn around.

You watch him get ready to produce a smart remark. However, he pauses before he can get it out. He puts his clothes on the bed and walks over to the nightstand, turning on his laptop and grabbing some Bluetooth headphones from the drawer.

“Here,” he says, pairing them to his computer and then handing them to you. You take them before you look up at him, wondering where he’s going with this, but he’s quick to fill you in. “Listen to this, I won’t be long.”

Yoongi puts on some music and gives you a wink that makes your pussy clench. He leaves you sitting on his bed, headphones in hand without another word. 

For the first minute you stare at the object wondering what’s being played, but your curiosity takes over quickly and before you know it, they’re coming over your ears. You don’t regret it the second you hear his voice. 

The music begins to travel through the speakers, you become obsessed with it from the very first track. You love that it’s similar to his original sound, but it isn’t the same track over and over again. They’re all so different yet so him. You can hear and feel the amount of dedication and effort he put into it. Like it wasn’t done out of obligation, but because he wanted to do it for himself. You can’t help but get up and sway your hips to the music. 

You feel so connected to him through his work, and that’s why you go on and on about how you wish he’d make another mixtape because this shit is fire. You wonder how long he’s been hiding it from the world.

You aren’t expecting him to be sitting on the bed when you turn around. Your hand finds your chest and you lower the volume on the headset.

“How long have you been sitting there? You fucking scared me.”

He shrugs. “Long enough to know that I want that dress off of you.”

Your startled expression turns smug. “Oh, really?”

“Hell, yeah.”

“So…you want me to take it off?” You raise an eyebrow.

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re going to have to use your words with me if you want something.”

Yoongi’s arms fold at his chest; his white tee strains against his beefiness. You remember how his clothes used to swallow him, but now he’s filling them up quite nicely, if you may. Either way, he looks good. It’s just a natural trait he possesses.

“I mean either you can take it off or you can leave. Doesn’t matter to me,” he shrugs his shoulders.

If you weren’t horny just looking at him sitting there in his boxers, you’d call his bluff. But you’ve already picked up on his stubbornness and you know better than to try him. “Fine.”

You sigh as you drag down the straps of your dress, rolling your eyes when he tells you to slow down. You flip your hair and twirl your body as you wiggle the fabric down your hips, turning around in the opposite direction to give him a peek at your derriere. 

Looking over your shoulder, you notice how his face becomes etched with approval. You give yourself a silent applaud for selecting this piece. You’re sure your thong leaves nothing for his imagination. It also doesn’t help that you’re topless.

You stop torturing him and turn around so he can see the front.

“Damn,” is all he can say.

You take off your heels before walking towards him and his eyes never leave your breasts the entire journey, even once you’re standing between his legs, preparing to straddle his lap.

“I want you.” You tell him as if he doesn’t already know. 

Yoongi’s hands find your waist while you place your knees on the bed. As soon as you’re on his lap, you can feel his bulge threatening to burst out of his underwear. It’d be so simple to pull your panties aside and milk him for everything he has, but not tonight. He’s the one who owes you a good fucking.

“How badly?”

His lips find your skin and make their way to your tits, making you clutch onto his damp curly strands while he sucks and tugs on your sensitive nipples. Your hands tug his hair, and you force him to look at your face.

“Yoongi. You’re either going to fuck me or I’m going to fuck you. What’s it going to be—”

He scoops you up and drops you on the mattress, making you squeak in surprise. The dark gleam in his orbs has your thighs rubbing and your fists clinging onto the comforter. He's finally had enough, and hopefully he doesn’t hold back anymore.

“You asked for this,” he warns you and you almost giggle with glee. He pulls his shirt over his head and is about to toss it somewhere, but then he changes his mind. Yoongi looks at you for a moment, contemplating before he speaks. “You trust me, right?”

“Well, I came home with you even though you hate me, didn’t I?...Why do you ask?”

“So a lot or a little?”

You groan. 

He chuckles and you feel the butterflies once again. Yoongi turns the volume up on his laptop before holding up a thumb to ask if it is too loud. Honestly, you’re glad it tuned him out because though you understand that safety is first, there’s little you wouldn’t try when it comes to this man. You’ve been waiting as patiently as you could to experience this and you’re ready to get started.

You nod and his devilish smirk is the last thing you see before he throws his shirt over your head. Darkness fills your vision but it doesn’t bother you as long as his voice is filling your ears. His cold hands slide up your thighs and spread them, wasting no time in touching your slightly sodden underwear.

Gasps escape your lips when his finger presses gently on your clit, and you can only hope the sound isn’t too awkward since you cannot hear yourself. 

The bed dips so you assume he’s climbing on and you release a breath when you feel his lips hovering over your body. He leaves kisses between your breasts and he doesn’t stop until your lace panties prevent him from accessing any more skin.

Yoongi quickly slides them off, leaving lying on his bed completely naked. Everything from the moment when his tongue dips into your center is one feverish bliss. Your back arches, your toes curl, and your fingers entangle in his hair. The sounds you’re making are probably feral and of an obnoxious volume but Yoongi doesn’t bother to shush you or stop his sinful movements. 

He draws circles over your throbbing clit with his tongue, moving in the same motion as you do as you swivel your hips. This song has you in the mood to grind your pussy on his face, and that’s entirely his fault for coming up with such vulgar lyrics. It’s filthy and you feel the muscles in your stomach tightening by the seconds. You scream his name over and over but he just keeps going until you release the pressure built up inside of you.

The shirt is snatched off your face as you’re at your peak and what you see between your thighs only intensifies your orgasm. His face is buried in your heat, sucking your bundle of nerves into his mouth and nibbling gently while you squirm in his iron grip.

Yoongi kisses your inner thighs once you begin to calm down to help you relax. When you back slowly droop onto the bed is when he carefully removes the headphones, turning them off and then setting them on the nightstand next to his laptop.

“I would go back for seconds, but that would only make me want more,” he tells you. He opens the bottom drawer and pulls out some condoms then throws them on the bed.

“I don’t know if I’d survive that.”

“Well, you better say a prayer because we aren’t done,” he laughs and excitement bubbles inside of you.

Yoongi switches the music to something else and you can’t help but pout. 

You sigh. “I pray you aren’t all talk.”

He glares at you for your comment and steps closer to the bed. 

“You’re a sweet girl, but…” he flips you on your stomach and pulls you up by the waist, positioning you so that your ass and pussy are directly in his line of sight, “you need to watch how you fucking speak to me.”

A shriek leaves your lips when he slaps your ass. “Yoongi…please.”

“Please? You want me to stop?”

“No!” Your voice is high pitched and shaky, almost unrecognizable to your ears. “Don’t stop, please.”

Yoongi finds humor in your desperation. “Ask me nicely.”

“Fuck,” you whine but it’s the wrong answer. “Yoongi, please do it again.”

“No.”

Your breath hitches. “What?”

“I said no.”.

“Such a fucking asshole,” you mumble insults, thinking they’re too low for him to hear.

“What was that?”

You look behind you and notice Yoongi rolling a condom over his dick. You can’t tear your eyes away from the sight of those veiny hands stroking his cock slowly, preparing himself to dive into your wetness. You’ve always wondered what he looked like doing that, ever since that time on the phone.

“Nothing,” you lie.

He puts his knee on the bed and inches closer to you. You tease him by wiggling your ass a little but he places a hand on your hip to still you. “You know…”

You can feel his cock against your entrance and your body pushes back on him to try and get it inside of you yourself. However, your impatience makes you forget how petty the man behind you really is.

The tip slips past your folds and with the amount of arousal seeping from your opening, he’s able to slide in with ease. But it’s only a taste; the majority of his cock still remains outside of you, and quickly your frustration takes control of you.

“If you wanna meet an asshole…” he makes a loud gasp leave your lips when he, without warning, slams into your pussy in one smooth motion. You whimper; a harsh snatch of your hair makes you wince and grip the sheets. Your head is turned in an uncomfortable position, but the only thing you can focus on is the intensity of the stretch and the way his dick doesn’t leave any room to spare, “I could introduce you to one.”

Yoongi pushes your head forward and pins you to the mattress. Your teeth grit together because of your sensitivity. You could come just like this without him even moving. That’s how worked up you still are. You just need a moment to pull yourself together, but Yoongi doesn’t have the patience for that.

“Arch your fucking back.”

He pulls out but swiftly snaps back into you, causing you to let out a squeak. You try to cover your mouth but his large hand comes down on your ass before you can do so. Your moans turn into screams within minutes, increasing in volume each time Yoongi slaps your rear.

“I know you can do better than that. Straighten up before I do it for you,” he grunts through the lewd skin-slapping noises that fill the room.

You squeeze your eyes shut and arch your back like he demands. The position is only uncomfortable for a few seconds, but eventually it becomes familiar and the sensitivity ebbs away.

Yoongi lets go of your hair and starts rubbing his hands all over your ass, kneading the reddened flesh and giving it words of appreciation.

When you start to fuck him back he holds your waist and pulls you back on his cock. Your body begins to move naturally with the rhythm of the background music and he allows you to set the pace while he whispers obscene remarks.

“Look at you taking it just like a whore.” 

You can feel the arousal between your thighs, dripping and making a mess of the sheets. The squelching sounds are disgusting but don’t phase you in this heated moment. You have more important things to worry about. Like how long you’ll be able to keep this up. You weren’t expecting him to have this much stamina, but you’ve learned to never judge a book by the cover.

He’s strong, the grip he has on you is evidence to that. The way he’s handling you like you’re nothing but a fuck toy he can use at his discretion has you clenching around his dick. His deep chuckle fills the room when he feels your walls tighten.

“On your next podcast, you should tell them how I fucked your brains out to your own playlist,” he comments.

Yoongi’s thrusts have your knees trembling and nearly giving out, but he’s quick to assure that you keep up. “No fucking slacking, whore. Do better or I’ll pull out and use your throat instead.”

You’re sure your ass will be sore in the morning because Yoongi cannot keep his hands off of it. He strikes you every chance he gets and the stinging sensation from his blows push you closer and closer to your peak.

“Fuck. Yoongi…please.”

Tears roll down your cheek when his cock travels deeper, touching the spot that makes you unravel at the seams. It’s all too much and you beg him to allow you to surrender to the pleasure.

“Not yet. Shit, do you have any idea how juicy your ass looks like this?”

“But I can’t,” you sob into the comforter.

A slap to your left cheek leaves you a shaky mess. However, he shows you no mercy and does the same thing to the other side.

“That’s not an option. If you come, I swear—”

“Sorry…” Your muffled cries are the last thing you can recall before your body accidentally gives in.

Your juices leak onto the bed while you hold on for dear life, afraid you’ll float away if you let go of the fabric. But just as your orgasm reaches its peak, it’s ripped away from you  by one of the foulest humans on this planet.

“What the fuck did I tell you?” he growls as he drags you off the bed. Yoongi forces you to your knees, ignoring your pleas to regain what was stolen from you. He slaps your cheek a few times, snapping you back into reality and demanding your attention. “Answer me!”

“You…You told me not to come,” you hiccup.

His expression tells you how displeased he is, but it’s too bad that you don’t care. Something comes over you that has you sucking it up and wiping your tears. If he wants to play dirty, you can do it too.

“So why did you?...I never said that you could.”

You look up at him with innocent eyes. However, you have no intentions on being good anymore.

“Because it felt good and I wanted to,” you tell him and he grabs your face.

“You don’t get to decide what you want to do or what feels good. If you had the answers you wouldn’t have been begging for my dick for two years.”

Yoongi pulls off the condom and brings his cock to your mouth. You clench your fist to hold back the excitement when he tells you to open. You’ve craved the taste of him even though you’ve never had him. Your mouth waters as you wait for him to enter, and when he does, he doesn’t stop until reaches the back of your throat.

“Tap my thigh if you need air, and do not suck until I tell you to, understand?”

You mumble around him as best as you can. “Mmhm.”

Before you can prepare yourself for a pace you know will be relentless, Yoongi withdraws and slowly re-enters your crevice. Your eyes roll back from the fullness and addicting taste of him. You want more—need more to fulfill your desire.

Ignoring his instructions, you enclose your lips around him and begin to suck him in each time he tries to pull out. “Easy,” he warns but you keep going.

One of your hands comes up to fondle his balls and Yoongi’s deep moans begin to fill your ears. He throws his head back in pleasure while you give him, what you would consider, the best blowjob of his life. The sound he produces is the only music you want to hear. His voice holds so much lust and bass, arousal gushes from your cunt as a result.

“Fuck, I told you not to do that.”

You hum around him, sending vibrations up his shaft. The feeling brings him to his senses and he places both his hands on your head. You have to grab onto his thighs to keep yourself steady since he’s starting to take control. You try to maintain the suction but his wild movements make it impossible.

“You wanted to suck me off so badly. Keep it up,” he grunts, increasing his speed.

You choke on his dick and the sounds make him twitch in your mouth. Yoongi starts to intentionally go deeper, but he’s unsatisfied by the lack of space there is for him.

He pulls out of you, leaving you coughing and gasping at the sudden intake of air.

“Well, damn. Do I have to teach you how to suck dick too?”

Yoongi shakes his head as he looks down on you then uses his index and middle finger to open your mouth. He pushes the digits in and finds the back of your mouth with ease, pressing on the back of your tongue to make you open wider. “Stop being shy and open this pretty fucking mouth,” he demands, making you gag on his fingers.

Your eyes water and spit drips down your chin. You must look like a complete mess, but Yoongi cannot take his eyes off of you. 

“Now show me, and I’ll give you some more.”

You’re scolded before you can even wrap your lips around his fingers. 

“Stop being fucking lazy.” He gives your cheek a few more slaps before shoving his fingers deeper into your mouth. 

This time you slurp and allow your saliva to coat his digits. ”Fucking, right. Now open up and milk this dick.”

Yoongi removes his fingers and replaces them with his cock. This time you just open your mouth and let him in. He uses your head like a fleshlight and drills into you at a rapid speed. You try your best to keep eye contact and breath through your nose, but then out of nowhere he buries his cock down your throat.

There’s an intense burning in your airways due to lack of oxygen but it’s nothing you can’t handle. The rush takes you so high you become slightly lightheaded, sending a tingling sensation straight to your center. Nothing but music, the sound of you choking on his dick, and his sound of pleasure can be heard and the way he calls your name sends your ego through the roof.

“Shit, I’m gonna come. Stay just like this, sweetheart.”

Within five long thrusts, his warm seed deposits on your tastebuds. You try to swallow everything but he pulls out quickly and empties the rest on your lips and chin. Your tongue tries to gather as much as you can, but some places are impossible to reach. 

“Come here.” Yoongi pulls you from the floor and brings you closer, greeting you with a sloppy kiss once you’re on your feet. He laps up all the cum on your face and gathers it all on his tongue before he feeds it to you. You savor the taste of both of you as the kiss prolongs, and even after he pulls away you can’t help but remember how good he tasted.

If you had to guess which body part Yoongi favors the most, you’d say it was your lips. He can’t tear his eyes away from them. You bite them, he shudders. You lick them, his cock twitches. So you can’t control yourself when it comes to teasing him and pressing them against his soft skin.

“You must want another round if you keep that up,” he mentions as you make your way to his earlobe. You nibble on it gently before you whisper in his ear.

“I just wanna come one more time before you kick me out.”

“Who said I was kicking you out?”

“You aren’t?”

Yoongi ushers you to his bed and helps you lie down before he joins you. He hovers over you once again and his hand snakes between your thighs.

“I definitely am, but not right now. I’m not done with you,” he informs, fingers entering your heat while his thumb caresses your clit.

“Well, hurry up then.”

He frowns. “Do you ever shut up?”

“Yeah, whenever someone has the balls to make me shut up—”

“Interesting,” he states after his hand pins your neck to the mattress. “Let’s test that theory.”

Yoongi’s digits begin to move in and out of your wetness, producing more lewd noises and causing your body to shake with sensitivity.

“Yoongi.”

His name flows past your lips like water. It’s the only word you can think of at the moment. Having been worked up all this time with no relief makes you desperate to satisfy the lingering desire that’s settled in the pit of your stomach.

“Feels good, huh?”

It feels damn good. Your hips buck off the bed to match his movements so you can chase your high. “Yes…more.”

“More?”

His hand tightens its grip and restricts your air supply. He knows how close to the edge it takes you by now and he doesn’t hesitate to use it against you.

“Say please and I’ll make you come all over my fingers,” he chuckles, knowing you can’t respond like this.

You try to speak, but everything gets trapped in your throat. You can only claw at his chest, begging him to guide you to your release. He loosens his grip and through your coughs you manage to give him the answer he wants.

“Please. I can’t take it.”

Yoongi gives you a fake pout, squeezing your face between his fingers. “But you can…watch this.”

His fingers curl inside of you and you’re seeing stars. Your nails dig into his arm, body arching off the bed due to the intense wave of pleasure that hits you. You try to run, but he pins you down and forces you to accept the mind-blowing orgasm you were begging for.

“You talked a bunch of shit, now back it up, love,” Yoongi tells you while your walls clench around him. His hand covers your mouth, preventing your screams from waking up the neighbors as if it isn’t already too late for that. “Let’s see if this cunt’s worth the headache.”

The coil snaps and your body stiffens. Yoongi’s deep voice continues to degrade you as your juices squirt all over his bed. Even though you cry out from the sensitivity he fucks you until the last drop. Your body just falls on the bed once he’s done with you, and you move into a fetal position when he carefully slides out his fingers.

The aftershock of your release has you twitching, but the bliss you feel is superior. This is what it feels like to get fucked out, and you knew he would be the person to deliver. Satisfied would be an understatement because you weren’t expecting to be stuck like this after you were done. Usually, you’re able to get up and go before they can return from the bathroom, but tonight you can only lay there in silence while Yoongi cleans you up with a warm cloth.

“I didn’t break you, huh?”

“The opposite, actually,” you laugh weakly.

“Good.” He lays his body beside you and wraps his arm around your waist, enjoying the familiar beat that plays into the dark room. It’s your phone sex song; the beat he played to help you relax. “Remember this?”

“Yeah, how can I forget?”

“You keep saying that like I’m always on your mind.”

“Maybe you are,” you reply.

A soft scoff comes from behind you. “I hope you’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

There’s silence, then eventually a long sigh. 

“I want you gone before I wake up, okay?”

You shake your head. Not in disbelief because it’s what you expected, but because he can’t read between the lines. But you aren’t naïve and you know when someone wants you just as bad as you want them. So for now, you’ll be patient.

“Fair enough,” you answer.

Satisfied, he rolls over and drifts off into sleep, leaving you awake to wallow in your thoughts. It seemed best to just get up and leave then, but it takes nearly an hour to regain your strength. And just when you think it’s safe for you to slip away and consider this night one of the good memories, the warmth you felt before returns and pulls you closer—it is then that your eyes become heavy and you submit to the comfort you know you aren’t supposed to have.

When Yoongi wakes up and finds a cold empty bed, he can only throw his head back in frustration. He hopes…no, he prays he didn’t say anything to make you feel like he wasn’t interested. He knows he can be a dick, but he was just pissed and horny last night. You’re not easy to handle, but he likes that about you. You aren’t afraid to put him in his place.

He rolls out of bed and the first thing he notices is that his laptop is still playing music, so he makes turning it off his first task. However, once he enters the password, he finds an opened document with a typed note in the center of the page.

If you ever think of me, just call...If you want?

Yoongi’s speechless, and out of his damn mind. That’s the only excuse he has for picking up his phone and calling the number you left at 9 am in the damn morning. The longer the phone rings, the more regret fills him. He can’t help but think you left that there to tease him for calling you so quickly. He tries to hang up but before he can remove the phone from his ear the ringing stops and your beautiful voice blesses him once again.

“Hello?”

He panics, and doesn’t respond. He searches the room frantically and finds his excuse lying on the floor right in front of him.

“Yeah, you left your earring. Looks expensive,” he murmurs before he clears his throat.

“Oh, I’m wearing both of mine now. Must be for someone else.”

Embarrassment washes over him as he stands there naked in his bedroom. How could he be so stupid? That thing’s probably months old, if not longer. He wonders if you saw it. Maybe that’s why you left.

“I’m kidding, Yoongi. If it’s a gold hoop, it’s mine,” you laugh and he feels a weight left from his shoulders. 

The idea of you finding stuff that belongs to other women in his home doesn’t put a good feeling in his chest. He also doesn’t want you to think of him as someone who lets anyone in his home because he’s not that kind of guy. 

“Haha, you’re so funny,” he says once your giggles cease. 

“And you’re sarcastic.”

Still sharp as hell. He thinks to himself.

“Whatever.” He takes a seat on his bed and rests his back against the headboard while he checks emails on his laptop and uses small talk to melt away the awkwardness. “So…you left in a hurry, huh?”

Smooth.

“You told me you wanted me gone before you woke up, remember?”

Of course, he did. Because he’s an idiot.

“Yeah, I was just fucking with you, though. I would have given you a ride or something, you know.”

“No worries. I made it to my hotel room safely,” you assure and he releases a sigh of relief. 

“Well, that’s good. Glad to hear that.”

“Mmhm, miss me already, huh?...too bad you kicked me out.”

“Honestly, I thought I was gonna wake up to some tits in my face, but that’s fair.”

There’s some shuffling in the background like you’re moving something, but he doesn’t ask any questions about it.

“Can you remember anything from last night?” you ask him after a beat of silence.

His fingers run through his hair as he thinks about all the filthy images replaying in his mind.

“Well yeah, I remember you, of course. You were fucking incredible. But everything after that moment was a blur. Please don’t tell me I did something stupid.”

“No, you’re good. I had fun.”

So did he. He wishes it’d happen again, and again. “And you’re okay too, right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. My ass is sore and I can barely sit down, but I feel good. Thanks for that.”

Thank heavens you are. He knows how rough he was and most women aren’t into that but you took it and enjoyed it. You were fun to play with, and now his cock twitches at the thought of what your ass must look like now, covered in his marks.

“What about you?”

“I’m fine, love. Bummed about having to work, but I’m good,” he responds.

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay. And I’m sorry I kept you up when you have to work this morning.”

“Don’t apologize for that. I enjoyed your company, and…”

He almost told you that he missed you, but caught himself at the last minute.

“And what?”

“Uhh, nothing,” he gulps. “I was reading something…Forgot what I was going to say.”

“O’kay.”

Yoongi can tell by the sound of your voice that you don’t buy it.

“Yup,” is all he can say in response.

After a minute or two of both of you just holding the phone, you finally say something to keep the conversation going. “Yoongi?”

“Hm…”

“Are you busy right now or…?”

He places his laptop beside him because he can assure that whatever he has to do isn’t as important as this.

“No, what’s up?”

“Well, it’s about last night,” you admit.

Now, he’s kind of nervous. What else happened while he was in his post orgasmic bliss.

“Yeah, what about it?”

Yoongi stays on the line waiting patiently for your answer, and it’s one he doesn’t expect.

“Well, you still owe me, you know?”

Interesting.

“And what do you mean by that?” he questions.

“Well…”

Yoongi already knows where this is going and luckily he knows exactly how to handle this situation. “Not satisfied, are you, baby?”

“No, I am. But…”

He chuckles. “You want some more?”

“If it isn't too much trouble. And if you have time, of course.”

You’re as sly as a fox and you know how to get what you want. It’s hot, but he’s going to have to humble you before he does anything else.

“No trouble at all, baby. Do me a favor, and spread your legs for me.”

“Okay.”

He hears some more movement and then you return, prepared to do anything he tells you in the hopes of pleasuring yourself. You tell him once you’re ready and he provides you with more instructions, in which you follow without question.

“Now, facetime me and place the phone between your thighs so I can see your pretty pussy.”

Within a second, his phone notifies him of an incoming facetime call. He answers it and finds you sitting in your hotel room. You’re wearing a large shirt but he can still see the fresh blooms from where he took your skin between his teeth the night before creeping up your neck. He can’t stop the smirk from spreading across his face.

He curses when he sees your cunt, all glistening and wet with your juices. His mouth waters but he pushes his filthy thoughts in the back of his mind.

“This is what you’re going to do,” he starts, watching in awe as strings of arousal snap while you’re scissoring yourself in his presence, “...you’re going to imagine me fucking your brains out and you’re gonna use that image to get yourself off…without me.”

“Yoongi—”

He tsks. “I’m not your man, and making you come is not my job, baby.”

“But…”

If he gave a fuck, he’d break hearing how desperate and needy your voice sounds, but you need to understand that he isn’t going to come every time you call for him. He’s a busy man and he doesn’t need distractions.

“But nothing…Now, bye. Have fun.”

He hangs up just as you start to curse at him and yell into the phone. But he knows this isn’t over; you’re probably getting a ride over to his place right now, and that’s exactly what he wanted. 

You were able to just walk out of here this morning without even waking him. That doesn’t sit right with him, and there’s only one solution for it really—

He’s just going to have to fuck you harder during round two…

And maybe, just maybe…get to know you a little bit after.

We’ll see.

[eetherealgoddess]

Hi! I love the way you write Kazutora and I'd like to request this specific brain rot I've been having about a female reader getting mugged by him and accidentally dropping and shattering her phone before she can give it to him, so he forces her to make up for the time and money he just lost, if at all possible with ar knife or gunpoint :)

Can’t believe I never thought of this even though I think of pervert Kazutora all the time. Also I think you meant noncon by “forcing her to make up for time and money,” so that’s what I wrote. Hope you enjoy!!♡︎♡︎♡︎

ꨄHow to Survive a Mugging ꨄ

Oneshot - Slight Yandere Mugging Au

Hanemiya Kazutora x Reader

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

How to Survive a Mugging

Your hand trembles as you attempt to pull your phone out of your leggings’ pocket while the knife is held against your throat from behind. You had just been going for a walk, something you haven’t done in a while. You had walked for at least an hour in total, ready to go back home for the day. Deciding to make a shortcut, you went through an alleyway so you didn’t have to walk back in the same long direction you took from the beginning. Unfortunately, cutting through an alley was one of the biggest mistakes you had ever made.

The arm wrapped around your waist tightens as you fidget in the stranger’s grip, the breath on your ear intimidating as the sharp object is held against your neck. You hadn’t brought your purse so you left your wallet at home. Considering you had no money on you, the only thing you could give the mystery man was your phone, something you hadn’t wanted to give. So when you grabbed it you purposefully dropped it to make it look like an accident.

“Shit!” He hissed against your ear.

“I-I’m sorry! I’m just really scared!” You cry out as he turns you around and shoves you against the wall. You stare in shock at the beauty on the man’s face, as well as his hair that is messily pulled back. His expression holds a stoic expression as the knife is against your throat once more, his other hand planted on the wall beside your head. You could only eye him with discomfort as you glance at your shattered phone. Fortunately, you’ll be able to transfer whatever you need into a new phone, content with not having given it to the stranger. Your eyebrows furrow when a smirk forms on his face.

“You did that on purpose.” His eyes shift to your chest before they run down your figure. He makes eye contact with you before he releases a chuckle.

“You’ve wasted my time. I should kill you.” His smile drops, giving you a cold look as the knife touches your skin. You flinch as you swallow against the cold object. You could already see from where he had used it on someone else, the dry blood that stained it prominent. Your heart pounds against your chest as your fingers fidget against your palms.

You thought about fighting back but you had no clue how to. You were terrified and ashamed at how weak you are as an adult woman. You knew the dangers yet you’ve been too lazy to learn how to fight or at least have the resources to take a few classes. You thought about pushing him away, though you run the risk of your neck getting sliced, so you stay in place.

He pulls back from you slightly as the smile grows on his face. He drops the knife to his side as he stares at you, his tattoo prominent against his neck.

“Wanna make it up to me?” He teases, a thumb caressing your cheek as his palm rests against your cheek. You don’t respond, seeing where he’s going with the statement.

“Get on your knees.” You shake your head.

“Please don’t make me do this!” He only chuckles as a hand meets your shoulder.

“Your begging only makes me want it more. Knees.” He demands with a close eyed smile. You had no choice but to comply.

“Pull it out.” You angrily unzip his pants as well as yank them down, tears threatening to fall in humiliation. He grabs your hand with the hand that isn’t holding the knife.

“Woah there, relax.” He chuckles. “I’ll slice your hand off if you’re too rough.”

You remove the erection from his underwear. A hand on your chin forces you to look up.

“Treat it like it’s yours, yeah? Any teeth and you’re dead. Understand?” You glare at him while nodding your head.

Leaning in, you drag your tongue along the mushroom top, circling it as you taste his precum. His hand rests on your head as he bites his lip. You ease his head in as you suckle the tip, him eyeing the lips surrounding his cock.

“Fuck.” He whispers under his breath, slightly thrusting his hips forward to ease the rest of his cock in, your lips meeting the base as he moans. He pulls your head back until the tip is at the edge of your lips before pulling you back to his base. His mouth is slightly parted with a red hue on his face, orbs eyeing you under heavy lids.

“Look at me.” You comply as you bob your head back and forth, accelerating your speed as you give your all in an attempt to finish him off fast. The squelching sound echoes through the alleyway, a mixture of saliva and cum dripping from your mouth as you take him into your throat. Your hands grip his thighs as he thrusts into your mouth. His head falls back before he thrusts harder, bringing his attention back on you when he looks down.

“Yeah, just like that baby. Take this dick.” He whispers as his hand grips your head. Your eyes shut as his thrusts become overwhelming. Fingers pinch your nostrils as your eyes shoot back open.

“I’ll fucking smother you with my cock if you don’t look at me.” He chuckles with a dazed expression. “If you wanna breathe, you better listen.” He says before releasing your nose and placing his hand back on your head. Tears stream down your face as his grip tightens, fucking your mouth harder as his hips thrust against your face. Moans leave his mouth as his body tenses, golden eyes narrowed at your own orbs.

Your nails piercing into the skin of his thighs causes him to groan louder, the sting mixing well with the warmth around his cock.

“M’ gonna cum.” He mutters before shoving his cock into your mouth, holding it in place as semen shoots down your throat causing you to swallow it all. You grunt as you try to breathe normally again once he releases your head and pulls his cock out of your mouth. He demands you to put his pants back on, watching you with amusement. He leans over, the tip of his knife poking your chin forcing you to look up at him.

“You’re my new cockslut. Let’s get your phone fixed since we’ll need that to talk.” You look at him with confusion.

“I-I thought you were gonna let me go.”

“I never said that.” He puts his knife away. “Let’s go.” He grabs your wrist, forcing you to get up from the ground.

[honeyjars-sims]

2.35 Wallowing

Cece: How’s therapy been going?

Chantal: Good, I think. We’re just getting started but I really like my therapist so far. 

Johnny: Don’t bother with therapy, it’s a waste of time.

Cece: No, it’s not. Just because you’re wallowing in misery doesn’t mean everyone else has to.

Johnny: I’m not wallowing. And it’s true. If I never went to therapy I never would have asked Lexie out or started talking to my mom again. I’d be a lot happier.

Chantal: Therapy didn’t make your girlfriend gay or keep mom from making better choices. Sometimes bad things happen. If you were still going to therapy, maybe you’d start feeling better instead of rotting away on the couch.

Johnny: That’s easy for you to say. You haven’t been through what I have.

Chantal: Maybe I wasn’t physically abused, but I still grew up in the same bad environment where my needs weren’t met. You're not the only one with trauma, you know.

Johnny: Oh, you have trauma. Is that why you were sleeping with your boss?

Chantal: That really hurts. I know I could have made better decisions, but that’s why I’m in therapy. I want to work on my self-esteem.

Cece: Johnny, why would you even say that? Leave Chantal alone. At least she’s trying to do something with her life. You’ve been moping for weeks. Did you even go to your finals?

Johnny: No, but it doesn’t matter now.

Chantal: What do you mean it doesn’t matter? Can you even pass your classes if you don’t take the finals?

Johnny: No, I can’t. But I dropped out anyhow.

Cece: You dropped out of school?

Chantal: What were you thinking?

Johnny: Oh, come on. I just picked Drama as a major because it seemed fun. I don’t have any idea of what I want to do with my life. Going to college is just a big waste of my time.

Chantal: I guess if you don’t want to go to school, that’s your choice, but where are you going to live? You have to be a student to live in the apartments.

Johnny: Can’t you just pretend you live by yourself? They won’t know I’m here.

Cece: Um, and who’s going to pay for your part of the rent? Dad and Pops are helping you out because you’re supposed to be getting your degree. They’re not going to just give you rent money for nothing.

Chantal: Yeah, and I can’t afford this place by myself now that I lost my job.

Johnny: Fine. I guess I’ll ask Dad and Pops if I can stay there for a while.

Chantal: I’ll give you a couple of weeks to get your things together, but don’t take advantage.

Cece: Yeah, and our parents aren’t going to let you mooch off of them forever. At some point you’re going to have to act like an adult. 

Johnny: Yeah, whatever.

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

[khae-writes]

point system [ azul ashengrotto/reader ]

tags: fluff, romcom, takes place after his overblot case, azul ashengrotto/female reader

header

               You weren’t there for it when it got announced, but according to Grim, Azul had definitely switched things up in his establishment. Starting a few days after his overblot, he had proposed a new way of gathering money in a less nefarious way.

Grim had told you so nonchalantly, but you caught the gist of it.

‘Earn points through buying food and drinks, and you’ll be granted the honor of consulting with Azul Ashengrotto’. It sounded easy enough, right?

Wrong.

It wasn’t easy at all, especially not for a broke high-schooler like yourself. You had no way of saving up money, no way of getting any discount or coupon or whatever voucher was available, and certainly not a pass for being his friend.

Crowley was being stingy with your budget and telling him you wanted to be able to at least afford the items in Mostro Lounge had him gawking at you in disbelief—that was a mistake on your part, you should’ve been more practical with your reasons and lied about it.

Due to your obvious restrictions, it took you several weeks, maybe even months to save up enough for one consultation with him. And perhaps he did predict you’d be so dedicated to hold one with him that when you finally sat in front of him in his office with a proud grin, he only gave you a mirthful smile in response.

God, you like him so much, you were whipped. Why was he so damn attractive!? It sent you into a wayward spiral.

“You’re finally here.” His voice was gentle, but it was laced with amusement, clearly entertained by your determination to have time with him. “You took a long time to get here, I was getting impatient.”

Your cheeks couldn’t hide the blush that was beginning to flush on your face. “Were you waiting for me?” The expectant tone was out in the open, you were (un)secretively hoping he’d say yes.

Your heart burst at his response. “Why wouldn’t I? Don’t you know how fascinating it was to watch you come and go in my lounge just to stack up points?” Azul chuckled, his gloved fist raised to cover the upward curve forming on his lips, “You’re quite the funny person, (Y/n). Do you not realize?”

“W-Well, I am a character of many talents. To make you laugh is just one of them.” Your lip quivered as you profoundly claimed.

Azul shook his head, smiling still before slipping a sheet of paper onto his desk. The printed text was familiar to you, it was one of his contracts, the very title was bold and gold in beautiful cursive. He picked up a quill pen and prepared it with the stationary, finally interlocking his fingers as he looks back to you.

“Well, idle chatter aside, what do you wish for? Anything you want, and I’ll make sure it comes true within my power. We can discuss fees after that.” He was very forward. But if he was going to play that game, then so were you. You’ve done everything all to get this chance, you didn’t want to waste this chance.

You slammed your fists onto the table, startling the second-year as he maintained eye contact with your now-determined eyes. “I want to ask you out, and for you to take me seriously.”

Your outburst must’ve been predicted beforehand. After all, who else would go through such lengths just to get ten minutes with him with seemingly no intention of signing a contract? However, Azul couldn’t fight back the raging blush coloring his cheeks at your declaration of interest towards him. It was still pretty flustering to go through an open confession, especially one from you.

There was a beat before he regained his composure, clearing his throat. “R-Right, that’s… that’s really all you want from me?” He hesitated to ask, sweat rolling off his temple. The blush wasn’t fading any time soon, and his hand shook slightly as he rotated the paper on the desk to face your way, sliding the quill pen to you.

Your gaze never wavered once, staring at him and even going as far as to lean forward, “Yes, I like you Azul Ashengrotto. Please let me ask you out.” You immediately grabbed the pen and uncapped it after reading the terms and conditions carefully, hand already hovering over the blank line where your signature goes.

He sputtered into his fist, blushing even madder than before. “Y-You know, there’s really no need to go as far as sign a contract for something like this…”

You paused before you could fully tap the ink on paper, peering at him from under the fringes of your hair. “What.”

“Wow…” Azul sighed, chuckling slightly in a breath of astonishment. “I’m saying, there’s no need to sign a contract for something so small. I can always grant you that wish without needing a paper for legalization and business personalization.”

“I… don’t?” You trailed off, quiet for a still moment before freezing in embarrassment. “Oh, oh my God, you’re right.”

“You didn’t stop to check with me first?” Azul snorted, but he couldn’t stop smiling. “Sure then, we can arrange a date this week. When are you available?”

You stood up abruptly, turning red. “You’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I-I mean,” you stammered, “you’re not lying to me, right?”

Azul smiled, now standing at full height. “I assure you, this one’s free of charge.”

Your eyes lit up, sparkling in joy before jumping over the desk to wrap your arms around his neck in an embrace. Awkwardly but firmly, Azul returned the embrace by gently patting you on the head while his free hand went to your waist. The papers and pens fell off his table, but you couldn’t contain the excitement flowing through your body and brain. You were definitely bragging this to your friends.

“… So, this means I still get to make one other contract with you?”

“Yes.”

“Would you agree to making out with me after our first date?”

“…”

“Well?”

“… That one’s also for free.”

You fainted.

[nburkhardt]

5 Random Words Fic

Got tagged by @estrellami-1 and @i-less-than-three-you 🥰

Rules: generate 5 random words using this generator and then write something using those words! Tag 5 (or however many you want) mutuals to challenge! (If you don’t like your 5 words, try again. This is supposed to be fun!)

(Challenge/game originally from @a-little-unsteddie!)

My words: Capital, Something, Haste, Bandit & Neural (I’m switching neural to nerve btw)

There was something going on behind his back but he can’t quite figure it out. It was small enough that nothing was actually out of place but big enough for him to even notice anything wrong to begin with. Not that it was wrong per se, it was like something was being misplaced or maybe taken? But it wasn’t anything that important?

Eddie isn’t quite sure what to make of it, but given his place as second in command at the Capital, he needs to know what’s happening.

Wayne could possibly make him doing basic training again if he doesn’t figure out what the issue is.

“I don’t get it, Gare. Have you noticed anything?” He groans, taking a seat next to his friend.

Gareth shrugs, “Jeff and I did another round, found nothing wrong. Whatever is going on, it’s either being replaced immediately or whatever is being taken isn’t important to any of us.”

“You think it’s what, someone stealing?” He rolled his eyes, “Like what, a bandit around here? That’s impossible, Gareth! Ever since Wayne took over, we’re very fair and generous! If, if someone needed help we’d-”

“Look, you keep having that freakish feeling whenever this thing happens. There’s no issues around the place, nobodies dying and it seems like everything is in its place. So what could be going on? It’s gotta be a someone stealing and replacing it!” Gareth crossed his arms, looking at him with a glare, “unless you’ve been playing us and making us look like idiots for your own amusement”

Eddie snorted, shaking his head and patting Gareth’s arm, “I’m not, I swear, why waste our time with a silly game of-”

They’re both jolted out of their seats by the loud alarms going off, they quickly get up and start running.

“Do not say I told you so right now!”

Gareth snorted, throwing up a middle finger behind him as they run.

In their haste to find the others and the cause of the alarm, they failed to notice a person slipping by them and out the door.

They only slow down once the notice not just Jeff, Frankie and Chrissy standing by the main entrance but also Wayne.

“Please tell me no one is dead” is the first thing out of Eddie’s mouth, judging by Chrissy’s eye roll and Frankie’s snort, there thankfully, isn’t anyone dead.

Wayne’s serious demeanor breaks a little by the crack of a smile but still keeps the serious look on his face, “no one is dead, but there was a few things stolen. My boy, aren’t you supposed to be in charge of this problem?”

“Wayne!” Eddie whined, “I am, but everything so far has been in its place every time I check!”

The group all roll their eyes at him, “Not this time, a few pieces of jewelry was taken, your late mother’s ring and my grandfather’s near priceless necklace.”

Eddie’s heart dropped, their family heirlooms?! He could’ve sworn his mother’s ring was locked away in his room! “What idiot had to nerve to steal from us?”

Steve’s heartbeat was fast as he makes his way over to the next town, it’s been a long few hours but he couldn’t handle doing a trade within the capital this time.

Taking these pieces was a huge risk and he knew it but he needs the money. It’s his last time and attempt to make the offer, if the dealer takes and hands the money over to him, he’ll breathe easier and hopefully; his family actually survives.

He didn’t want to turn to stealing but after his siblings got sick, he had to. It was the only way. Their parents are shit and he couldn’t just stand around as both his twin and little brother got the worse and worse. Currently, he hopes at least, Robin is doing a little bit better. But Dustin has been in bed for a week straight now, even their Aunt Claudia can’t figure out what it is.

It was the last resort. He had to steal even if he tried his hardest to replace the items if they were worth next to nothing. Wasn’t too hard to get in and out of the Capital building anyway, with the Munsons being genuinely good and open.

It makes him feel a little bad for all the stealing. But it’s nothing on him panicking at his siblings health.

“I’m sorry boy, but this piece?” His dealer, Rick, jiggles the necklace again “it’s worth the money but I can’t accept it. Everyone knows it’s the Munson’s. I’d imagine they’re already letting everyone know”

Steve hope dies a little as he slumps against the counter, “what about the ring? That wasn’t even in the safe! Come on, Rick, I need the money!”

Rick held up the ring again, it’s a beautiful ruby with black gold accents.

He couldn’t believe it when he saw it, just under a simple glass case with no alarm attached to it. Not even a lock, just sitting on a shelf in the random room he hid in after grabbing the bracelet.

“Yeah this could be worth something, maybe a few hundred.” Rick nods to himself and slipped the ring back in the box, “deal?”

“Just a few hundred? But I need more!” The bills piling on their table back at home was definitely more than a few hundred, “are you absolutely sure about that bracelet?”

Rick opened his mouth, then snapped it shut as he paled. Dropping the bracelet on the floor and shoving the box away from him, “actually, boy, I can’t do either”

Steve looked at him confused, “what? You just said it was-”

He jerked when he was roughly shoved against the counter, eyes widening as he’s met with Eddie Munson. “Gotta hand it to you, managing to steal from us- from me, is impressive.”

“I-”

Eddie shook his head, a small ‘tsk-tsk’ coming out of his mouth. He let go of him and grabbed the box, “This? This is mine.”

His heart was beating fast, that ring was supposed to get him- get Dustin the help he needed. And now it’s being shoved into Eddie’s pocket, “But I need the money!” He blurts out and cringes at how whiney he sounds.

Eddie scruffs and let’s go of him, stepping away and crossing his arms, “oh, for what? Drugs? Payment back to some other shady person? You like all the other bandits and idiots?” He looks him up and down, “sure don’t look like them”

Steve looks away, his cheeks burning and his hands shaking. “Wish it was that simple” he mutters to himself, he wouldn’t be here at all if it was drugs he needed.

“What was that?”

“I said,” Steve shook his head, “I wish it was that simple, look, can I go? Rick wouldn’t take the necklace and you already took the damn ring back.” He grits his teeth, holding back a breakdown he’s absolutely ready to have.

Eddie frowned, seeing the guy tense up and red marks form on his arm from his own hands. “Uh, yeah, but don’t come anywhere near the capital building again. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, yep. Got it.” Steve nodded, blinking hard to stop the tears, already thinking; Not with Dustin’s health issues and Robin’s panicking. “Like I’ll be able to go anywhere” he muttered out, making his way away from his last hope.

He can feel eyes on him as he manages to hold himself together, putting off the inevitable until he’s out of sight and alone. Once he’s completely out of sight of Eddie, he lets the tears fall.

“Good job, Steve, you’re even a shit bandit” he huffs a pathetic laugh as he roughly wipes his eyes, “can’t even make enough to help your brother”

Making his way into the alley, he finds a spot out of sight to continue his pity party before he has to go home and figure out a new plan. Pulling his legs up against his chest, he tries to blink away the tears and hold his sobs in.

Hiding his face in his knees, he doesn’t quite hear the footsteps come up to him. Moving his head to rub his arm against his eyes, he finally notices the feet next to him.

Freezing, he looks up, finding Eddie Munson.

“So, Steve,” Eddie shoves his hands in his pockets, “I’m a little curious, if you were just stealing for drugs you wouldn’t be having a breakdown beside a dumpster.”

“how would you know?” He bites out, “my dealer could’ve left”

Eddie laughs, “yeah, I’m sure this is the reaction someone has after getting their fix. Come on,” he held out a hand and Steve eyed it, “I’m not going to hurt or arrest you.”

That didn’t exactly ease anything but this is a low moment for him, so he grabs it and Eddie easily helps him up.

“So?”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smile, “So, what?”

“Why are you out here, you already got your jewelry back and you think I’m doing drugs” he crossed his arms, ignoring how hot his face feels from both his breakdown and the fact that Eddie hasn’t moved away from him.

“I told you I’m curious,” Eddie shrugged, taking a step back only to lean against the wall, “I overheard you say something about being a shit bandit, it got me interested. So, what lead you to stealing?”

Steve mirrors him and leans against the dumpster, looking at him for a second before sighing and tipping his head back. Closing his eyes for a second, “It was my last decision, my parents are shit and my aunt’s job doesn’t pay enough for my siblings. So, I resorted to stealing because my brother is getting worse”

He refuses to actually look at Eddie now, knows the look he’ll get. It’s the same look he’s been getting for weeks now, almost months now. Always “oh you poor boy” and “maybe it’s time to give up” from neighbors and strangers alike because they think Dustin won’t survive.

“Oh man” Eddie whispers and Steve can only hear it because of how quiet it is in the ally, Eddie clears his throat and out of the corner of his eye sees Eddie shift, “Is he sick? Is he dying? That’s why you were stealing?”

“He’s not dying!” He snapped with a glare, his hands in fists, “He’s- he’s going to be okay. I just, just gotta,” his eyes are watery again and he takes in a sharp breath, “he’s not dying!”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Eddie has his hands raised and inching closer to him, “he’s not dying and I’m going to help, okay? I’ll help you.”

He shakes his head, let’s out a laugh or maybe a sob, he can’t tell anymore, “oh yeah? How?”

“I’m not sure, yet! But I can help, come on, let me help you.”

Entering the Capital building in the main entrance is a bit strange, especially after all the times he’s entered by windows and side doors. It was even more jarring to be entering with Eddie Munson.

“Eddie, who’s this?”

He nearly jumped at the new voice, looking behind them to find Wayne Munson coming up to them. He paled at seeing him, knowing he stole from this man and that his nephew is standing next to him who caught him stealing.

“Oh! Wayne, this is Stevie, he’s a new friend” Eddie spun around and pulled him closer to him, “I’m helping him and his brother out”

Wayne only raised an eyebrow at Eddie before looking at Steve, then he looked back at Eddie, “This the one who stole?”

Eddie gasped dramatically, tightening his arm around him, “Wayne! Of course not, I just so happened to catch him having a moment of weakness. Now i’m off to show him around and then we’re going to his place and-”

“Son, you ramblin’ like that gives ya away. What’s going on?” Wayne interrupted him, shaking his head and crossing his arms, “Be honest now”

Eddie felt Steve tense up as he squeezed his shoulders before moving his arm, “Uncle, look. Could we possibly talk about this in my room?”

Wayne’s face grows concerned, looking back and forth between him and Steve before nodding. Eddie smiles and grabs Steve’s hand to lead them towards his room, once inside Eddie only lets go of Steve’s hand to close his door and set the ring back in its place.

“Eddie,” Wayne eyes the ring and then at Steve who’s focus is only on the glass case again, “Ya think I’m gonna believe that ya just helping him out?”

“Look sir, I’m-”

“Wayne, I’m serious-”

Eddie and Steve looked at each other and Wayne shook his head at both of them, “Steve, was it? If ya did steal from us, be honest”

Steve paled and nodded, his heart sinking already. “I’m sorry sir”

“Wayne, we can’t punish him,” Eddie shifted to stand closer to Steve, “I have the jewelry, isn’t- can’t we let him go?”

Wayne sighed, knowing his nephew’s bleeding heart, “Steal anything else?”

Steve cringed, pulling his arms up to wrap around himself, focusing his eyes on the glass case to avoid looking at either Munson. “Yes, sir”

“For good reason, Wayne!”

“How much?” Wayne ignored Eddie and stared at Steve, watching as the boy gripped his arm harder and blink several times, clearly trying to get tears away. “How much did you steal?”

“A few pieces of jewelry, sir.”

Wayne raised an eyebrow and looked at Eddie hand up in question, “and how much did you get”

Steve cleared his throat, “about two hundred, sir.” He avoided their gazes but looked around to catch a peek, Eddie frowning and Wayne sending Eddie a pointed look. “I- I still have it”

“Steve no,” Eddie took a step closer, “Wayne you don’t- Wayne, his brother is sick. He needs the money and the stuff he stole- they aren’t that important to us”

It was silent and Eddie felt his face get hot, he looked away from Steve and back at his uncle, “it’s okay, I swear, the dealer he was selling to is caught- he’s being arrested as we speak. I have the pieces we cherish most back. Now,” he spins back around not waiting for Wayne’s response, “I’m going to help Steve and his family, got it?”

Three Months Later

There was something going on, Eddie can already tell and a smile is forming as the giggling behind him gets louder. He’s not sure what it is but he can’t wait to find out what it is.

The giggling is right behind him and he spins, his face breaking into a wide smile at the brothers in a pose to grab him standing there. Robin and Jeff next to them rolling their eyes but smiling.

“My loves!”

Steve and Dustin grinning wide as Eddie throws his arms around them, holding them close and his smile is starting to hurt his face as Steve presses a kiss to his cheek.

~~~

So. Uh. This wasn’t supposed to be this long and if I keep going it won’t stop. So! Here’s a thing that doesn’t have an exact time period, it’s definitely not set in the 80s and I went and switched roles up. OH AND IMPORTANT INFORMATION: Steve & Robin are a year apart, Dustin is the baby of the family. Don’t ask me what his issue was it was serious tho. Eddie’s a few years older than Steve. They got together only once Dustin was completely healthy. Eddie totally fell first and Steve wasn’t very far behind him. (Eddie also fell harder toooo)

Also I know the ending is kinda blah haha sorry like I said it wouldn’t end 🤣

No pressure tags: @simplebtromance @tartarusknight @zerokrox-blog @steddieas-shegoes @eriquin

TAGLIST:

@spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @bookworm0690 @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @grimmfitzz @strangersteddierthings

[smittywing]

WIP Wednesday - Marriage 101

This incredibly flimsy premise was brought to you by a post on this site that I can no longer find. It basically said you get more FAFSA money if you're married, so I picked the two characters least likely to ever use FAFSA and married them. I have no regrets.

The aroma of pizza rolls and popcorn notwithstanding, for a minute Tim had forgotten whose safehouse he was actually in.

Damian’s safehouses tended to have the video games. Tim’s were full of prototype gadgets, and Dick’s usually had fuzzy blankets and squishy pillows. Jason’s had the food.

Jason’s apparently also had a FAFSA application.

“Hey,” he said, picking it up. “Are you going back to school?”

Three things happened at once. (1) Jason vaulted off the sofa, overturning a bowl of popcorn onto Dick’s lap, (2) Damian grabbed Jason’s abandoned controller, and murdered Dick’s player, and (3) Dick grabbed Damian and mashed his face into the cushions.

“What’s this?” Dick asked as Tim turned away from Jason’s flailing hands to read the notes Jason had made in the margins. “Is my Little Wing going to be a college man?”

“No, fuckit, Timmers - no.” Jason was bigger and had a longer reach but Tim was extremely adept at dodging and weaving. He’d had a lot of practice. “Just a class or two. Dammit, Tim!”

It wasn’t a class or two. It was a full semester under the name Jason Peterson.

“Let me see,” Dick said, blocking Jason’s swipe and taking the papers from Tim. “You need money?” he asked, scanning the pages.

Jason made a sound somewhere between a groan and a growl. “Tuition’s fucking expensive, okay?” he said. “Now fuck off and give me that. That’s personal information.”

“Personal information for someone who isn’t you,” Dick commented, stepping just out of reach.

“Father would gladly pay for your tuition,” Damian piped up unwelcomely from the couch. “Why do you waste your time with tedious paperwork?”

“I am *not* taking money from Bruce.” Jason’s voice resonated with certainty.

“Didn’t you have like, some...passive income?” Tim asked, not sure if bringing up Jason’s time as a drug lord was a faux pas these days. Jason had a hair trigger temper and Tim really didn’t feel like being on the pointy side of his knife. Again.

“If you’re talking about the blood money, I donated it to some of the rehab places,” Jason mumbled. “Clearly I hadn’t come up with this brilliant plan at the time.”

“Why not take Father’s money?” Damian asked. “He enjoys spending it on philanthropic pursuits and you are clearly destitute.”

“No more pizza rolls for you,” Jason said, picking Damian up by his collar as he was peeking over Dick’s arm at Jason Peterson’s income. Damian kicked but Jason’s forearm was steady, as he levered Damian away from the paperwork. Tim quietly watched the tensed muscles running from the edge of Jason’s sleeve to his wrist.

“We’re going to have a little talk later about independence,” Dick told Damian.

“Independence is a worthy outcome,” Damian argued. “But many scholars and artists subsist under the patronage of a sponsor without shame.”

“I mean, he’s not wrong,” Dick conceded, glancing at Jason. “But look, we’ll talk about it later, okay Dami?” He turned back to Jason. “I think it’s great,” he continued, squeezing Jason’s bicep. Tim waited for violence, but the fight seemed to leak out of Jason as Dick handed him back the paperwork. “And I understand why you want to do this on your own. But if I can help, in any way, let me know, okay? Contrary to popular belief, you don’t have to do everything on your own.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Jason muttered, color high on his cheeks. “Get Cosimo de Medici out of here, will you?”

Dick grinned. “It’s past his bedtime anyway.”

Tim lingered after Dick and Damian left. “Sorry I didn’t think before I said something,” he offered. “I didn’t mean for it to turn into such a big deal.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jason said, running a hand through his hair. “It’s fine, whatever.” He opened the fridge and considered the shelves for a minute before pulling out two beers. Tim would have preferred coffee but he knew Jason was offering an olive branch so he took the bottle.

“Are you thinking about Gotham U?” Tim ventured, twisting off the cap and taking a sip of his beer.

“If I can get in,” Jason said, playing with his bottle cap. “If not, then Gotham State. I took the GED just to see if I could pass.”

“Of course you could,” Tim said automatically. “You were always better at school than Dick.”

Jason looked at him oddly. “Yeah but I quit at 15.”

Tim didn’t correct him. Quitting actually did sound better than getting murdered by the Joker.

“What do you want to study?” he asked instead.

It might have been a cliche, but Jason’s face literally lit from within at the question.

“I want to minor in English lit,” he said, which was a weird place to start, but Tim was too fascinated by the change in his demeanor to comment on it. “For a major, criminal justice would be the obvious choice but the background checks for law enforcement would be too comprehensive to make a career of it. I wouldn’t want to be a cop anyway. I was thinking maybe education but I don’t know for sure. It might make more sense to study something I can use in day-to-day life, you know? This is the most solid cover I have but it could use some backstopping if I’m going to use it in the real world, you know?”

“I could, um,” Tim said, transfixed by the animation in Jason’s voice and face. He had *never* seen Jason this happy or excited, *ever* and the truth was that he would do anything, *anything* to keep seeing it. “I could build out some - you’re really, you’re really excited about this, aren’t you?”

That hadn’t been what he’d meant to say at all, but Jason’s rueful grin tugged at his chest.

“Yeah,” he said. “I mean, if I can swing it. It takes more than a few Pell grants to keep me in helmets. Obviously this wouldn’t be a full time thing.”

“Yeah,” Tim found himself saying. “I know. I mean, I’m enrolled in a few classes next semester and I don’t know how I’m going to juggle those and regular patrol and the Titans.”

“You’ll do it,” Jason said immediately. “Isn’t your IQ like a million? It’ll be cakewalk.”

“Yeah,” Tim echoed, conviction solidifying. He and Jason would be starting at Gotham U in the fall, together. “Cakewalk.”

$

The concept of Jason happily studying English Lit (English Lit? Really? Jason?) at Gotham University started building itself into a happy fantasy by 4am. Tim Googled “how to pay for college” on his phone when he probably should have been trying to catch a few hours of sleep and 36 hours later, he was crawling in Jason’s window.

“Ugh, you too?” Jason greeted him.

“Hey Tim,” Dick said, looking up from his bowl of cereal.

“Hi, yeah,” Tim said, replying to both of them at once. “I uh, I had some ideas.”

Jason picked up the coffee pot and upended it into a mug. The toasty-burnt aroma hit Tim’s nostrils like a big cuddly freight train and reminded him of just how long he’d been awake. “Thanks,” he said.

Jason raised his eyebrows and lifted the mug to his own mouth. Tim felt its loss acutely. “All right,” Jason said with a sigh. “What’s your idea?”

“Ideas,” Tim clarified. “Plural.” He pulled his convertible laptop out of his backpack and rotated it into tablet mode.

“You didn’t,” Jason groaned.

“Of course he did,” Dick said. “PowerPoint was baby bird’s first computer game.”

“Scholarships,” Tim announced, drowning out the negativity.

“On my stellar GED score?” Jason asked sardonically.

“There are scholarships for non-traditional students,” Tim said, bringing up a selection of postings he had found when anticipating this exact argument.

Jason made a face. “Home-schooled?”

“Which you basically were,” Dick pointed out.

“Don’t help,” Jason told him.

“Granted, you’re probably not looking at full-tuition level scholarships,” Tim said, “but a few thousand dollars to pay for your books will help out a lot.”

Jason nodded grudgingly.

“Work-share!” Tim announced, flipping to the next slide.

“You would make a great lunch lady,” Dick suggested.

Jason glared sideways at him. “No.”

“I was thinking the library myself,” Tim offered, because who liked the library better than an English Lit major? Or minor. Or whatever. “Plus you’d have time to do your homework.”

Jason groaned, but it sounded acquiescing. “Okay,” he said. “What else ya got?”

“Income Share Agreements,” Tim went on. “GC has a program or you can apply through a private matching program for someone to front you the money and commit to paying back a percentage of your income once you graduate.”

“No,” Jason said.

“It’s like a loan,” Tim told him. “Just zero interest. And a zero balance. It doesn’t matter how much you make.”

“I’m doing this because I want to do it,” Jason said. “Not to be a nine-to-five, tax-paying drone, or to be stiffing some jerk on his investment. Next?”

“So, you’re probably not going to be a fan of this one,” Tim cautioned. “But you could get a job. And a company with tuition assistance.”

“Oh, really,” Jason drawled, narrowing his eyes and Tim knew Jason was on to him. “And would this job just happen to be at Wayne Enterprises?”

“I mean, I have an in,” Tim offered weakly.

“Or you could just get married,” Dick said.

“What?” Tim asked.

“What?” Jason asked.

“I mean, if pissing off Bruce is a prerequisite,” Dick said, in the same maddeningly casual tone, “you could just get married.” He held up the FAFSA information booklet. “You’d get double the housing money and some other stuff.”

“I’m in,” Jason said immediately.

“Wait,” Tim said, hating that he was going to be the one to throw a wrench in this extraordinarily *amazing* plan of *marrying Jason*. “Wouldn’t getting married to me fuck up his expected family contribution?”

“Um,” Dick said.

“No.” Jason had clearly been all over this paperwork. “When you file as married, you file as independent so your family isn’t expected to contribute. So our combined income would be the four thou Jason Peterson made at Bat-Burger last year and whatever your summer internship at WE paid.”

“Okay, let me see that worksheet,” Tim said, grabbing it out of Dick’s hand. He did some quick math in his head. “Yeah,” he said, the blood rush of a plan coming together hitting him full force. “I’m using the Nest as a permanent address anyway. You could do the same. I’ll work up a lease between us and Drake Industries. I don’t have legal access to my trust until I turn twenty-one, though Bruce has pretty much signed off on whatever, remind me to check and make sure there’s no marriage clause.”

“Um,” Dick said.

“Gotham has a 48-hour waiting period and blood test required for marriage licenses,” Jason said, scrolling rapidly through his phone. “But after that, we can go down to the courthouse and have the Justice of the Peace do the deed.”

“Figures,” Tim said. “Two days gives the press time to jump on this. Let’s apply on a Friday afternoon. Hopefully, whatever intern they have looking will miss it.”

“I didn’t mean you had to marry *each other*,” Dick said.

The room went silent.

“Who else are we gonna marry?” Jason sneered, clear in his opinion of Dick’s idiocy, and then turned back to the matter at hand. “Your marital status is as of the FAFSA submission date,” he said. “So we need to hook up before I submit.”

Tim shrugged. “Deal.”

[deiaiko]

#20.1 Sulk

Her footsteps echoed through the hallway, stopping in front of one particular room where her god resided in. She knocked on the door to make her presence known, not expecting her god to answer. Not today, at least.

Hwaryun opened the door and saw her god curled up on the sofa. He peeked at her and quickly looked disinterested at her presence. She considered it better than getting herself kicked out before she could talk some sense into him.

She invited herself in and went straight to the pantry. "Grace couldn't come today, so he asked me to look after you. Would you like some tea?"

Her god didn't answer, but he did perk up at the name. She brewed him a cup of tea anyway, adding a little more sugar than she would have liked for herself since her god had a sweet tooth. She set his cup on the coffee table and took a seat on an unoccupied sofa next to him.

Viole sat more upright, still hugging the sofa pillow. He gave her a once over before he went back to staring into the far off distance. "Why can't Hyung come?"

Hwaryun took a sip of her tea before answering, "He said he needs time for himself."

"Is it because of me?" Viole mumbled into the pillow, eyes shadowed by his long bangs.

"No. He's grieving for his late friends."

"Oh." Viole loosened the grip on the pillow, although only momentarily. "Can I see him?"

'I want to be there for him' was what his gaze seemed to say. Her god was such a compassionate person; it was endearing. Still, she had to shake her head. "You won't be of any help to him with your plate full."

"Why? What does that mean?"

"You have a lot on your mind. It's better to sort them out first before helping someone else." Hwaryun traced the edge of her cup, "Do you want me to guess or would you like to tell them yourself? Putting words into your thoughts will help you to untangle it."

Viole blinked. "I don't know. I feel bad."

Hwaryun hummed. "Do you know the cause of it?

"...Rachel." Viole turned his head away. "My chest aches whenever she comes to mind."

"She betrayed your trust, didn't she? It's expected that you feel that way."

"I've been…I just wanted to help her. Yet…" Viole trailed off. "I know I have forgiven her for making me live like this. But…"

When Viole couldn't find any words to continue, she decided to help him fill in the blanks. "You feel sad and angry because it feels like you're wasting your time thinking about how to get her back, only for her to walk away from you."

Viole buried his face on the pillow, staying quiet.

Hwaryun decided to help herself to the cookie jar on the coffee table and pulled out a book from her pocket. Opening the bookmarked page, she began reading where she left off while she waited for her god to gather his thoughts.

Moments later Viole shifted on his seat and mumbled, "Miss Hwaryun, why should I keep going?"

"To climb the tower?" Hwaryun didn't look up, even though her book was quite boring. "Or to be FUG's slayer?"

Viole stiffened at the latter question. Unlike the book, her god was easier and more interesting to read.

Hwaryun took another sip from her half empty cup. "Well, if you refuse to be a slayer, then what would you be?"

Viole didn't reply. It wasn't like they gave him enough time to think about it before.

"Being FUG's slayer isn't that bad, you know? You have backup here, and we will support you with whatever we have. Connections, money, information. I'm sure Jinsung, Grace or Agni had told you how important those are to help you climb the tower."

Viole bit his lip, "I know that. But that's–"

But nothing they could offer would satisfy him, Hwaryun knew. Because her god didn’t care about money or fame. What he wanted was companionship, his cherished friends, and FUG had cruelly taken that away from him. However, "Believe me, it could be a lot worse than what you have now."

"How much worse could it be?" Viole's voice cracked a little. "I just…want to be with my friends, is it too much to ask?"

"Is it?" Hwaryun clapped the book close, eyeing the untouched tea on the table before looking to its owner in his eyes. "Considering everything I've seen in my lifetime, you're quite lucky your friends are still around."

Viole blinked, staring back at her with a look that could kill. She realized she had worded it like a threat.

"Don't take me wrong, I'm just saying that in general. The tower is just a cruel place, and people who climb it know that they must put their lives on the line to get what they seek. People kill and die for a lot of reasons, and we are no exceptions." Hwaryun placed her finger on her eyepatch, "This eye could have been my life, if I didn't dodge in time. Did you get what I mean?"

Viole frowned. "Then what do I do? I don't want to lose anyone anymore."

Hwaryun hummed thoughtfully, "That is impossible. All you can afford is to do your best by getting stronger, so at the very least, you won't see them get killed in front of you."

Fear reflected in Viole's eyes and he gritted his teeth. "How could you say such a thing?!"

"It's not impossible. If Hansung were to take Khun and Rak as a hostage, would you be able to fight back and win before he's able to hurt them, or worse?"

Viole bit his lip.

"Hansung wouldn't do that, don't worry. But I couldn't say the same thing with other rankers and regulars that will come across you."

Viole considered her words for a long time. "...I don't think I would be okay if I lost them."

"I know." It would be just like what happened with Jinsung.

Viole suddenly jumped down on his feet, staring sharply at her. "They are all still alive, right? My friends, I mean."

"Yes, they are. Grace would have told you otherwise if anything were to happen."

"Then, do you happen to know who Hyung's friends that's…?

Hwaryun shook her head, "No. None that we knew of."

"Ah." The sulking brokenhearted boy he was before was no more, and Hwaryun couldn't help but smile at her beloved god. "Do you think I can help him somehow?"

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[charmingsoa]

✶ Where the Wild Things Are: One ✶ ■ 1960s Sons of Anarchy story ■

⌃ Jax Teller/ OC x Thomas Teller/OC ⌃

Warning: Please read with caution. This story will include: drug use, physical, verbal, and sexual abuse. miscarriages, sexual content, alcohol use, homicide, cursing, etc. ★ If You would like to be tagged in future updates, simply leave your username in the comments.

Taglist: @oskea93, @keyweegirlie

I stared at the clock – the hands slowly moving as my packed suitcase sat below my bed.

The thought of leaving the ruling and hard hand of my father had been a pipedream of mine for a while. There were days when I convinced myself that today was the day. I was just gonna walk right out of the house – bidding my parents a big fuck you as I ventured into the new world. I always managed to talk myself out of it after an hour – too afraid of what my father would do to stop me. Before tonight, I never even had a bag packed or a plan for that matter.

“I had to hear from Fred Hastings that he saw you and Wilson Grady fornicating in the back alley of his hardware store. Do you know how embarrassed your mother and I are to have people know that our daughter – our only daughter – is nothing but a cheap whore?”

I winced as he roughly grabbed onto my arms, shaking my upper body in rage as my mother just sat back and watched. The belt that he had used so often was wrapped around his hand, the buckle dangling as he shook.

“You are nothing but a piece of trash – a cheap whore that will open her legs to any man on the streets.” I sniffed back tears, my red hair sticking to my face as it became wet. He roughly pushed me to the ground, standing over me with a look of disgust etched on his aging face.

I attempted to get up, only to be stopped by his heavy foot on my abdomen. “Don’t even think about getting up, whore.” I glanced over at my mother hoping that she would make him throw in the towel. Her dead eyes met mine, looking away quickly as father’s heavy hand made contact with my thigh.

The leather material of the belt hurt like hell, but he had moved past using that. His favorite – at least for me – was the buckle. I can’t begin to tell you how many scars I have on my upper thighs and bottom from the contact of the metal meeting my thin skin.

Blow after blow – derogatory words spewing from his mouth like venom with each strike. My older brother, Brian was finally the one to step in – telling our father that I’ve had enough. Brian didn’t bother helping me up or making sure I was okay, too afraid of father himself.

Out of breath, father’s eyes connected with mine. “You think this time was bad-“His face mere inches from mine. “If I even hear that you’ve looked at another boy – I will make sure you won’t see the light of day ever again.”

I must’ve laid there for 30 minutes before slowly walking back to my bedroom. The sun had set by this time – meaning that it was almost bedtime for Roy and Brenda. Father made it a rule that it was lights out at sunset – the mind and body needed at least 7-8 hours of rest. Plus, his famous words were that nothing good happens after sunset.

Without giving it a second thought, I just started to pack.

I kept the lights off, giving off the appearance that I was sleeping in bed. I just grabbed whatever I had, stuffing it into the large suitcase. I knew that I would have to leave most of my possessions – items that I had collected since childhood. My father would more than likely just throw everything in the fire since he’s already said it was all a waste of money…

The big hand hovered over the 12 as I quietly gathered the case. I held my shoes in my hands as I took one last look at my childhood room. The pink walls dulling with age – the room holding good and bad memories. Tears welled in my eyes as I walked away, tiptoeing past my parents’ bedroom door. The house was silent – the only noise coming from the clocks on the walls. For once, the steps that led downstairs didn’t creak – the energy of the house agreeing with my decision to leave for good.

Once I reached the outside air – the realization of my actions crashed down on me like a ton of bricks. There was no way I could spend another minute/hour in that house – under the rule of a father who only cared about himself. If I didn’t leave now, I would’ve found a way of leaving this world all together. I wasn’t gonna give him that satisfaction though – Roy Landry deserved to know that I was somewhere in the world living a life that he frowned upon. I wanted word to get back to him that I was running wild – enjoying life – and screwing anyone and everyone that I damn well pleased. He can take the shame and embarrassment that he said I caused the family and shove it up his uptight ass!

That would be the last time I would see my parents alive. Word came that my father died a few years after I left – a heart attack, I think. To this day, my brothers blame me for the decline of our father’s health – saying that the stress of me leaving put a strain on his heart. My mother couldn’t bear to live without my father – passing away five years later in her sleep. I remember trying to call her one day after finding out I was pregnant – a part of me thinking that she had the right to know. Before I could even ask how she was doing, she interrupted and told me to never call her again.

“Thanks for the ride.”

I exited the car, the rain relentless as it soaked through my clothes. I managed to hitch a ride from an older couple – probably feeling sorry for me as I stood on the side of the road. I had been thumbing for a ride for two days now – making it further than I thought I would. I was far enough from home that I didn’t worry about my father or brothers coming to look for me.

I looked across the road – a diner casting a glow through the weather. I hadn’t bathed in three days – the rain and humidity making my skin feel sticky and gross. I had a couple bucks from a man that picked me up yesterday – money in exchange for a quick blow job. He was your typical sleaze ball but he got me out of Arkansas so I couldn’t complain. When I left home, I didn’t have any money saved up. Roy and Brenda weren’t the type of parents to give cash for chores. I hadn’t eaten since dinner that evening, my stomach cramping from the hunger pains.

 I darted across the road, stepping into the muggy building. The older men at the counter watched as I made my way to the restroom – the sink my only option for getting cleaned up. I quickly washed what I could – getting the important bits and pits – pulling off my dirty clothes and replacing them with shorts and a halter top. I pulled my red hair into a ponytail – combing out the knots that had formed from the rain. Once satisfied with my work, I stepped back into the restaurant, taking a seat in an empty booth. I ordered a cheeseburger and fries – basically scarfing it down in record time. I left what was left of my change for the elderly waitress before stepping back out into the summer rain.

I managed to flag down a semi-trailer driver who was headed to Utah with a shipment of goods. He called himself Groovy Bill – a widower from Florida. He had also fought in the war, stationed in France for two years before he was medically discharged. He walked with a limp – the injury coming from a stray bullet that shattered his femur. Groovy Bill didn’t expect anything for the ride – simply enjoying the company. During our three days together, he told me about his wife, Jane and how he met her at the American Legion before he was deployed. They got married once he returned home and started their family. Jane was developed pneumonia after routine surgery and passed away shortly after. I could tell that Bill truly loved and cared about his wife – her picture kept close to his heart.

I was kind of sad when his rig pulled into the office’s parking lot. I waited until he was completely unloaded, wanting to thank him one last time for his generosity and kindness. He didn’t have to pick me up – Hell, he didn’t have to be the kind man that I knew he could only be. In the three days that were together, I felt more of a connection to this man than I did my own father. Bill had a heart of gold and only wanted what was best for his children and people in general.

“Well –“ A sad smile spreading across his bearded face. “ I guess this is the end of the line, chickadee.”

Tears clouded my vision as my arms wrapped tightly around his midsection. The smell of bruit filled my senses as he returned the gesture.

“You take care of yourself, you hear?” I nodded my head against his plaid shirt.

We stood there silently, still embracing, before he pulled away. His tired eyes looked into mine as a fathers would. “Just because the lights are bright, and everything seems perfect- “He paused. “Doesn’t mean that there’s a rainbow at the end.” Referring to my quest to reach California. “You’re a beautiful girl and people will take advantage of that, but it’s up to you to push past the bullshit and become the woman you were born to be.”

With a kiss on top of my greasy head, Groovy Bill climbed back into his truck, driving back into the foggy, morning mist…

I would like to say the rest of my trip to reach California was a breeze, but it was more of a hurricane. Instead of an easy ride like the one I had with Bill, I was forced to give sexual favors in exchange for rides. The men that had picked me up seemed nice at first but the question of what they got in return was brought up halfway through. A blow job here – sex in the backseat there. I felt like a used rag by the time the last guy crossed the California border. He dropped me off outside a gas station once he got what he wanted, dust spinning as he tore back onto the road. It was early morning – probably close to three in the morning – and there wasn’t a soul in sight. This wasn’t our agreement – he was supposed to take me to San Francisco – telling me that’s where he was headed.

I stood under the flickering streetlamp – my heart pounding as different sounds could be heard in the distance. Mostly animals but your fear heightens when it’s pitch-black outside. I didn’t know whether to just wait it out and see if I could hitch another ride when the station opens or start walking now. It was likely impossible that someone would be on the roads this late – especially in an area such as this.

“Fuck.” I blew out a sigh, picking up my suitcase.

My sandals had broken several states back – my feet raw from working the pavement and rocky surface. I couldn’t see a foot in front of me, but I didn’t feel comfortable waiting until daylight. As I walked, the thought of if this was worth it kept popping into my mind. The people on the evening news made this look easy – full of peace and love. Granted, there was a group hitchhiking together, but even then, it wouldn’t be a walk in the park. Besides Groovy Bill and the older couple who picked me up at the start of all of this, I witnessed the hold that a man could have on a woman in need. They were willing to help if they got a kickback in the end. Sex was the only thing I could offer, and I wasn’t proud of that. They got off and I got dropped off.

I lasted another 30 minutes before collapsing in a field adjacent to the highway. I couldn’t go on any further – my legs quivering underneath me. A content sigh slipped past my lips as the cool grass cushioned my aching body. Sleep had been a distant friend since my journey started – my body staying awake to stay vigilant. I was desperate for rest – even if that meant sleeping on the side of the road. My mind finally took over – my eyes fluttering shut as my body relaxed.

This wouldn’t be the last time I pass out on the side of the road.

The sky was still dark when the rumbling of engines startled me awake. I moved to a sitting position as the group of headlights drew closer – my heart beating wildly in my chest at the unknown. A part of me hoped that the dusky scene would keep me hidden – but the other hoped that they would sweep me away from the misery I had created.