#but neither is the other aide in our class | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chaichaiiskai · 1 year

Text

TITLE: Invisible.

— PART NINE. —

yandere! bully! sukuna x gn! idgaf! fearless! reader! x yandere! yuuji itadori

MASTERPOST. PREV. NEXT.

CONTENT WARNING: mental breakdowns, bullying, emotional and mental pain, nightmares, overall toxic behavior on sukuna’s end.

WORD COUNT: 3.4k

TAGLIST: @soberdipity @sadgyaltings @kawasbaby @screwyou3

FROM that day on, Sukuna focused all of his advances on one certain individual, much to their misfortune. Besides seeing him in the class that you act as a Teaching Aid in, it appears that you also have two other classes with him, so it’s difficult to not see him around. Sukuna hadn’t even interacted with you yet, but you often felt a heavy gaze constantly watching your every move, but you often ignored it. Until, he finally decided to approach you.

On this particular day, in one of the classes he had with you, he finally decided to shoot his shot as soon as it ended due to the Professor of this particular class deciding to let everyone out early. He did a bit of premature packing, just to make sure he caught you before you slipped between his fingers, and it seemed to pay off, especially since he was able to approach the desk you’d been sitting at, looming over the front of it like some kind of predator. At first, you were unaware of him approaching you as you packed up your things, but when the light in front of you was suddenly blocked, you had no other choice but to look up, meeting a set of fuschia eyes staring back at you. Did he wear colored contacts? Neither of you said anything at first, you had paused your packing and simply stared at him, slowly raising an eyebrow as you tried to figure out who this guy was and what he wanted. He looked familiar, but you couldn’t put your tongue on where you knew him from.

“Y/N, right? Name’s Sukuna. I was wondering, how do you feel about earnin’ a little cash? I’m in need of some tutoring, and you seem smart.”

Sukuna… Sukuna… Sukuna! That’s right! You snapped your fingers in realization and pointed a finger at him, even if it was a little weird and uncalled for. “So, you’re the Sukuna. I’ve heard about you, or more like, my friends have talked about you around me…” You mulled over his words again before considering what class you two were in, as well as what you knew about his academic skills.

“You—“ you pointed to him, “want me—“ you pointed to yourself, “to tutor ‘you’? The Valedictorian of our year? I’m not too sure about that, Sukuna. I’ve graded some of your work in English, and as far as I know you’re the smartest guy in our grade, fuck, maybe even in this school. What assistance could you possibly need from me?”

“You seem to know your way around in this class. Human Psychology and I don’t really get along too well.” He admitted, knowing damn well that he had no problem understanding it, but wanted some reason to get close to you.

You sighed. “How much money are we talking about?”

…

That’s how it had begun. You’d started tutoring Sukuna and he paid more than you’d expected. As far as you could tell, Sukuna didn’t need you to tutor him, but who were you to stop him from paying you to sit there and do your homework with him? He wasn’t as stuck up as you’d originally thought, even if he was a tad bit of a flirt, you always rolled your eyes at his advances and just went about your usual routine.

Where did it go wrong? I’ll tell you.

Sukuna had been getting tutored by you for the past month. You’d have to be living under a rock to not know that Sukuna was quite a sexually active man, simply there for the fun and no strings attached. And as one would expect, some people thought they were more special than others, and fooling themselves into this delusion led to some rather… unpleasant occurrences. That truly didn’t matter to him, his moral compass wasn’t exactly pointed in the right direction after all. The reason for this is obvious, to him at least, he’s still attempting to fill the void that his invisibilis has left. And deep down, the new Teaching Aid has been reminding him of them with the way they act, but he’s been ignoring that deep seeded feeling, he doesn’t know if you’re his invisibilis or not. A part of him wished you were, and another wished you weren’t. He’d sworn off getting romantically involved with you, but he still finds himself wanting to get closer to you, even unconsciously.

Taking all of that into consideration, your friends should have been off-limits to his advances, but, Sukuna ignored that unspoken rule, and slept with not one, but three of them. All three of which seemingly developed feelings for him, even after he strictly told them he wasn’t interested in romance.

What does that have to do with anything at the moment? Well, you were forced to console all three of them in your dorm, and when they found out why they were all upset, let’s just say, all Hell broke loose.

The three of them had come over to your dorm, looking for comfort, mainly in you considering they’d all showed up in front of your door boohooing and crying their eyes out. Being the friend you were, you offered your living room to them and the four of you sat where you could get comfortable. You had plopped down on the couch, along with two of your friends, and the third had sat on the floor. After everyone was comfortably situated, you began to question why they were all feeling the way they were. When the answers were all out in the open, there was one common denominator.

Sukuna Ryomen.

“What do you mean you like Sukuna? I liked him first!”

“NO! I did! He said ‘you weren’t as bad as I thought’ and smiled at me!”

“News flash honey, that is not a compliment. He was probably talking about your dick sucking game.”

You sat there in silence, watching as the three of them ended up in a fruitless argument, talking over each other and trying to prove their case that Sukuna was in love with them and not with the others. It was tiring to listen to but you figured that this was the best way for them to realize that they were arguing for now reason, so, you got up and decided to get yourself something to drink from the mini-fridge nearby, getting yourself a can of one of your favorite beverages. You were about to go and sit back down on the couch, only to hear a knock at the door, leading you to cock your head to the side before making your way to the door, opening your drink up simultaneously.

Opening the door, you were met with the problem. Suddenly remembering that the two of you had a ‘tutoring session’ this particular afternoon. Of fucking course the universe decided to dump this pile of horse shit right in your lap. And when you opened your mouth to tell him he needed to leave immediately before things got worse inside of your dorm room, you heard something break behind you and quickly turned around, looking to find out what had broken and who you were about to strangle. Your friends had apparently escalated into a full-on brawl, one was pulling the hair of another, the other was punching one in the gut while screaming profanities, the mess of limbs of hair pulling was absolutely ridiculous. You were frozen for a moment, simply watching as the three crashed onto the floor to continue their meaningless fight. In the beginning process of said fight, apparently, they had made one of your lamps fall onto the ground, shattering into pieces.

Then, you shook away your initial shock to jump into action, rushing towards them to start trying to pull them apart and away from each other. Sukuna, on the other hand, could smell the bloodlust for the fight had even began and stood in the threshold of your dorm, watching with amusement from where he stood. Hey, what kind of demon would he be if he didn’t enjoy a little chaos? He briefly recognized the three of them as people he’s slept with but he had no idea why they were fighting or the fact that he was the cause of it. He was just amused. Human fights were always so messy and unpredictable.

You, poor you, were struggling with them while also trying to make sure you didn’t end up getting hurt in the mist of punches and screaming. For a moment, you separate yourself from them to catch your breath, only to find that Sukuna had just been standing there watching the fight with a look of amusement in his eyes. And maybe, just maybe, you had a lapse of judgment and misplaced anger, but you screamed at him from where you stood, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

“This is all your fault! Why can’t you just go away?!!”

Those words. Those fucking words. Sukuna felt one of his hearts start to beat rapidly and he reached up to clench at his chest, pulling at the fabric of his chest before he stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over his own feet. You watched, confusion written plainly all over your face at his sudden actions, and before you knew it, he was turning tail and running away like you had said the worst thing possible to him.

Little did you know, you were completely right.

…

After Sukuna had made his escape, you went out of your dorm in search of help, and when you finally found it, a couple of athletes who lived on your floor came to help you peel the three individuals apart, and out of your dorm. Thankfully, there wasn’t too much damage done to your place besides your broken lamp and some pushed furniture, and your so-called friends (who you consequently ended up dropping after seeing the way they were quick to fight because of some stupid delusional romance) barely sustaining any injuries, you went about your day. When you had time to yourself again after a quick clean up of the mess that was left behind, you began to mull over the words you’d said to Sukuna, who, in hindsight didn’t exactly do anything seriously wrong. Sure, he’d stood by and stared at the fight without intervening, and sure he was the cause of the fight in the first place, but that look in his eyes that came after you shouted at him was haunting you. For some strange reason, your heart had ached at the terrified expression he held. Was what you said really all that hurtful? It made you feel a little guilty, and so, you decided to contact him and apologize. Or try to at least.

With each call, it all went to voicemail after a couple of rings and he was no longer reading your text messages.

You said them.

You said those forsaken fucking words. You weren’t supposed to, you shouldn’t have, you couldn’t have. Why were you doing this? Why was the universe doing this?

If there was one thing all of his previous Invisibilia Amor Fatis, or otherwise known in the mortal world as ‘soulmates’, had in common, it was that. Those exact words but sometimes varying in languages, they all meant the same thing, and they always told him what he needed to know, and words he’d grown to feel sheer amounts of pain from after hearing them being said to him so often. This meant he’d found you again, but it also meant you had the potential to die again, right in his arms, at the hands of him. It was a bittersweet realization just like all the other times destiny forced you to meet again. This is exactly why he’d avoided coming back to the mortal world, he was destined to meet you one way or another, sooner or later. But he had never expected for whoever the fuck controls his destiny to force him to meet you again so soon. He should have left when he had the chance, he should leave now, shouldn’t he? That was the best thing for the both of you, it would protect you from harm and it would keep him from having to deal with the inevitable.

Then, why is he back in class with you? Why is he ignoring you while also keeping tabs on you at the same time? Why is he letting you approach him despite knowing that the more you come in contact with him the higher chances you are going to suffer another unnecessary death?

Completely ignorant of your previous lives and what it means to become involved with this pink-haired man, you are eager to apologize for your outburst. He had been ignoring you for the last couple of days, but you had to get rid of the guilt and now you were chasing him around, trying to corner him. And today, you were successful. He’d just come out of one of his classes and no you weren’t stalking him, you just wanted to talk. As soon as you saw that familiar fluff of hair, you called out to him and he immediately stopped in his tracks, turning towards you as you speedily approached him, taking strong strides until you were directly in front of him, looking as fierce as ever.

All of his hearts raced when he stared at you, but he kept up his stoic and unbothered expression, his hands digging into the pockets of his joggers as he looked down at you expectedly. “What is it?” He asked, sighing afterwards.

“Ah, well, uh… I wanted to say, I’m sorry about what I said that day. I know you didn’t exactly /initiate/ them fighting or anything like that but I said what I said because I was frustrated that they were fighting over some stupid guy— Not that you’re stupid, I mean, I—“

“Pretty colorful apology. ‘s that all? By the way, I don’t need you to tutor me anymore. Bye.” He kept his statement bland and curt, turning around and began walking back down the hallway, away from you.

That instantly made you stand up straight, sure your tutoring sessions weren’t exactly tutoring, he’d simply paid you to study with him and occasionally hold a conversation with him. Which wasn’t exactly unpleasant, in fact, you enjoyed talking to him when he wasn’t being flirty and trying to get in your pants. Plus, the money was good, it had been helping you with your daily expenses and even with your intuition. And so, you hurried after him and unexpectedly grabbed his wrist, halting him from continuing his walking endeavor.

Perhaps, you running after him wasn’t just about the money and his company, subconsciously, something was telling you not to let him go. You were unsure why, but this felt like the right thing to do, you felt it in your gut.

“Wait, uhm… I-“ You were at a loss for words, you didn’t know /why/ you’d stopped him or what you wanted to say to him exactly, but you just couldn’t let him go. The feeling of your hand wrapped around his wrist sent a shiver up his spine. He was at a great war with himself. He wanted nothing more than to bask in your presence and make you fall in love with him all over again, he wanted to hold you close and never let go, whisper his own tainted apologies to you until he was blue in the face. He was still facing away from you as you gripped his wrist, he could feel his vision blur and his eyes start to water.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

This wasn’t the time to cry, pull it together, Sukuna. The hall may have been empty but it felt like he had a million pair of eyes staring at him, waiting for him to make his decision, judging every breath he made and every breath he took.

He had to put Plan B in motion, as much as he hated the idea of treating you in such a way he had to seperate the two of you before it was too late.

Suddenly, he abruptly snatched his arm away from

you and swiftly turned to face you, an angered look on his face as he spoke down at you. “Will you just fuck off? I don’t need your help anymore. Find someone else to fuckin’ bother.” He venomously spat, glaring at you before turning back around and stomping away, leaving you standing there in confusion, watching his retreating back. Although he was angry, you saw something else in his stride, something uncertain, something… fearing.

Standing there in shock, you hadn’t even registered the way your arm moved on its own, as well as your hand as you began to rub your chest, right where your heart was. And why… was your face wet? Why were you crying? Why did everything hurt?

He’d run away, again. But if he didn’t, he’d be putting a target on your back yet again. Not caring if anyone saw, he teleported into the comfort of his dorm and broke down.

“GOD-FUCKING-DAMNIT.” He screamed at the top of his lungs and began wreaking havoc on the innocent interior decorations of his home.

…

That was only the beginning. You got new friends. You got a new tutoring job. You got used to the unexplainable pain that had started coming to you in sporadic waves after your latest interaction with Sukuna Ryomen. You got used to waking up from the dreamless rests, trembling and sobbing as if you were experiencing the most gruesome fate over and over again. For some strange reason, you had an overwhelming feeling that those dreams weren’t dreamless, your brain was shielding you from something, making you forget your nightmares and the reasons why you were crying. But what you couldn’t get used to was this sudden uptake in Sukuna in your presence, originally you’d started to enjoy his company, but that quickly changed when he began acting like a dick to you and only you. It was like he had it out for you or something, and he wouldn’t leave you alone despite being the one telling you not to bother him. It didn’t make sense, but neither did the random pains that would reveal themselves without you even asking. But, what you’ve noticed is that the pain rises after interacting with Sukuna or even seeing him in the distance. You were starting to think he was the cause of this pain, but you were unsure of how since he wasn't anything or anyone significant to you, not even in the slightest. But why did he make you feel this way? It was almost as if you knew him much more than you originally thought. And why did the pains suddenly start after he told you to leave him alone, why didn’t they start before that? Why was he being so rude to you? You didn’t do anything to him, you’d already apologized.

“Move outta my way. You’re blocking the way.“ When your back hit the wall, you glared at the cause of everything, deciding to ignore him altogether after he’d shoulder checked you to get past you. He didn’t knock you around harshly, only just a light shove to force you to pay attention to him for a few seconds as he walked past you. And you know he does it on purpose because there’s always enough space for him to walk around you but he just has to make it seem like you’re the one blocking his walking path. You’d caught up eventually and whenever he came towards you, you maneuvered your way away from him without batting an eye. That didn’t sit too well with him so he’d always find some way to mildly inconvenience you.

Sometimes he caught you off guard, walking up behind you and childishly brushing past you with an ‘apologetic’ smile and a nod of his head. You didn’t let that bother you, only rolling your eyes at him and shaking him off as you continued on with your day. It was nothing you couldn’t handle, he was basically just an extra large kid who wanted attention. Why your attention? You didn’t know, and probably never would.

It escalated.

He escalated.

And eventually, you grew numb to it. You grew to deal with him and tolerate him. And in some strange way, this felt like the best option.

AUTHOR’S NOTES: tbh i don’t really like the way this chapter came out but i didn’t wanna rework it because it just shows how messy the story is when it comes to these two. this was the last backstory chapter so noW we’re moving onto the present, prepare yourselves bc i am very excited. also, pls know that it may take me time to update but im gonna finish this fucking book, i already have all the events and shit written down + the ending, but i still gotta write the meat sOoo y’know. ive also been writing six other ongoing books and… i have more book ideas im writing 😭

194 notes · View notes

queeranarchism · 1 year

Text

I’m a bit frustrated with the conversations around AI ‘art’. It’s so much philosophical ‘but is this art?’ or just outraged venting. Neither of which is very useful for a class of workers when they’re confronted with a technology that produces soulless but far cheaper products that fill some of the same customer needs that the workers are filling through their labor.

Like, there is hopefully going to be some new legislation to curb the worst copyright infringements. Corporations like Disney and rich artists will probably lead the charge there and as a result it might become illegal to let AI do a ‘by (name-of-artist-whose-works-are-in-copright)’ image. But a legislative decision that forced AI to unlearn all it has learned from existing art is probably not going to happen and an anti-AI social media campaign isn’t going to morally shame the world out of using AI. (And out of all the ways to address the unethical aspects of a product, shouting at individual users is probably the most counterproductive). Ultimately, like the recipe for the nuclear bomb or movie-downloads, AI generated ‘art’ is here to stay. It can’t be pressured out of existence.

And in a non-capitalist world, that would be fine. The one problem would be AI’s enormous energy consumption, but other than that there would be nothing bad at all about having a machine that can spit out every conceivable image by making collages of every other image on the internet. In a world in which artists did not need to monetize their art, this technology would just mean artists have to spend less time on boring commissions and more time of whatever their heart’s desired.

But since we do live in a capitalist world (for now), artists are going to have to figure out a response beyond moralizing and philosophizing. In the short run, that might involve mutual aid to support each other because there is going to be an inevitable loss of income is some branches of art-by-commission. In the long run, it’s going to take other forms, I’m not sure which. But I wish the conversation would switch to those practical concerns of a group of workers in a way that wasn’t so much ‘how do we feel about this?’ but ‘how do we come up with a response to this that is within our collective power and achieves material improvements for artists?’.

216 notes · View notes

olderjustneverwiser · 2 years

Text

Give Me Love, I'll Put My Heart in It (Steve Harrington)

images aren't mine

Two best friends, four seasons, one night. A mistake and finding the way back to one another. Yet another friends-to-lovers fic and literally no one is surprised. WC: 8K.

Warnings: mentions of loss of virginity, sex is alluded to but not explicit, lots of Steve Thoughts, drinking way too much. Literally so much pining, just two oblivious idiots in love.

This fic is heavily based on 'An Evening I Will Not Forget/Furthest Thing' by Dermot Kennedy, and lyrics from the song are at the beginning of each part.

Masterlist

I'm always thinkin' summertime with the bikes out

Pushin' our luck, gettin' wiped out

Days with nothin’ but laughin’ loud

When Steve thinks about summertime, he thinks about sweltering bike rides, cooling off in the pool, and sleepovers on bedroom floors. Sharing sleeping bags and candy stashes and secrets. Nothing was too sacred, not if it was with you

He thinks about meeting you when you were kids. He knew of you because you were in the same class as him but didn't really know you, too engrossed in his existing friends and action figures to really pay attention to anyone else. But then one summer day he saw you, riding your bike down his street and looking like you were having way more fun than he was. You asked him if he wanted to ride to the quarry with you, and that was that.

One bike ride turned into two, and after learning that you lived just down the street from one another, you were inseparable. The two of you rode to the arcade, the quarry, into the woods, anywhere your little legs could take you until the sun would start to set and your parents expected you home. It didn't matter where you ended up, whether one of you wiped out while racing the other. The skinned knees and hurt pride was worth it because he had you, and that's all that mattered.

He thinks about summer days spent in the pool; cooling off in the hot Hawkins afternoons. He thinks about games of Marco Polo with all of his friends, playing treasure dive when it was just the two of you. Always seeking you out because somewhere between biking in the Indiana sun and splash fights, you had become his best friend.

And as the days turned to night and you both grew too exhausted from the sun, the sleeping bags would be rolled out and you would pretend that you were far away from Hawkins, away from his nanny and the house that was always too empty until sleep inevitably took you both. These are the things Steve thinks about when he thinks about summer. Not loud parties or college tours or summer jobs. Not the loneliness he'd feel when his parents would leave yet again. No, these are the memories that come to his mind, memories he made with you.

Those were always the best. Those were the ones that made his heart feel a little lighter.

It didn’t matter how many summers passed; how old the both of you got or who he happened to be sleeping with for those few months, his mind was brought back to the smell of chlorine and the wind in his face, in your hair. It’s no surprise, really. Those memories have been the highlight of his summers for as long as he can remember.

Of course, the summers changed as you got older, but the sentiments always stayed the same. Bike rides turned into long drives in Steve’s car; the destination sometimes unknown, a surprise even to the both of you. Kool-Aid by the pool became diluted with vodka since no parents were around to tell you different and the smell of smoke lingered alongside chlorine and sunscreen. As you got older you and Steve stopped trying to pretend that the floor of his bedroom was comfortable enough to sleep on; Steve happily sharing his bed instead of just his blankets. You had both grown over the years and his bed didn’t feel quite as big as it used to but neither of you really cared. The slightly cramped space only gave you both the excuse to lay a little closer to one another.

Not like either of you really minded.

Somewhere near the end of his teen years, between early morning drives and late nights in his bedroom, Steve noticed things. His eyes starting to linger on your face a little longer, his hands seeking out yours in the pool. He noticed how touches always seemed to last a little too long to be just friendly and how his heart pounded when some punk would flirt with you. At first he brushed it off, he was seventeen and just chalked it up to possessiveness towards his best friend. Then time passed and Jonathan Byers beat a little ego out of him and Steve realized that, oh, what he had been feeling was a crush. Not young lust, not just want for another body or bragging rights, but he wanted you. All of you.

You and him never changed through the years, though. Not really, not in a way you both thought of. Both wished for, even though the other was totally oblivious.

Steve remembers a day last summer, the two of you hanging out like you always did when you were both off from work and the kids weren’t hounding Steve to drive them all over Hawkins. The day was spent in his pool; his empty house gave you both the freedom to be as loud and obnoxious as you wanted, to drink and smoke without any caring parents.

He remembers playing music through a boombox; smiling as you sang along to ’American Girl.’ He thinks of how you slipped off your dress, bathing suit already on and the skin you displayed wasn’t anything he hadn't seen of you before, but it made his stare linger for reasons he still didn't understand. The day was perfect; neither of you had a care in the world for a while and then at one point when the sun was just beginning to set for the night, he remembers turning to look at you and he almost forgot to breathe.

The colors of the setting sun surrounded you over the trees, shades of purple, blue, orange, and red all around and they somehow made your face glow. You turned to him with a smile, all teeth and wide eyes and pure joy and Steve swore you were perfect. He could finally put a word to the confusing, complicated feelings that had been swirling in his head for the past few years. It was love. He fucking loved his best friend.

He almost made a move, right then and there.

He wasn't King Steve anymore, though. You were both older, somewhat wiser. He didn't act like every girl was his anymore because he didn’t want just any girl; hadn’t for years. Besides, you were his best friend and it's not like you had ever acted like you wanted to be anything other than that. So, he held back. Kept the feelings he knew he had locked away deep in his chest because it was better that way. He had always been a shitty boyfriend in the past, anyway, and you didn't deserve that. Steve had always been a good friend, though, so he chose to keep things just the way they were because you had him, he had you, and that was good enough. You still held his arm as he led you back inside, still laid next to him in his too-small bed that night. Still was his person, just like you had always been. That never changed.

But as everyone knows, summer always has to end. Days get shorter, nights a little cooler and not everything stays the same forever.

What's important is this evening I will not forget

Purple, blue, orange, red. These colors of feelin’

Autumn flowed into Hawkins quickly, leaves turning different shades of red and yellow in September and temperatures dropping in the first week of October. It brought fewer pool parties and movie nights since the kids were going to football games and studying more. Robin and Vickie had recently moved into an apartment together, and Eddie's band had started to book more and more gigs, which left you and Steve alone more often than not.

It's not like he minded, not at all. He loved his friends more than his own family, but you were special and he'd pick time with you over time with anyone else, every time.

Which brought the both of you to tonight, Rocky Horror playing and you two on the couch in the den. A bottle of cheap wine shared between you and your legs resting on his lap. It was comfortable, the kind of night that you both loved. You had stolen one of his cardigans earlier; the chill outside had found its way in after the sun had gone down for the night and you had slipped on the thick material without even asking, knowing Steve wouldn't mind.

He loved seeing you in them, anyway.

"I totally had the hots for Janet when I first watched this," Steve said as 'The Sword of Damocles' played through the TV. "Pretty sure ‘Touch Me’ was like, my first sexual awakening or something."

"Wow, that explains so much about you," you teased.

"Oh shut up," Steve tickled your leg, careful not to make you spill your drink. "She's a super hot girl singing about wanting to get dirty and lose her virginity, how could twelve-year-old me not be changed by that?" You muttered something about how crass he could be, though your smile told him that you really didn’t care.

"I mean, I probably shouldn't have watched this when I was that young. Gave me a pretty fucked up idea how my first time would go, y'know?" Steve expected some snarky retort about the workings of the male psyche or something, but he didn't get it.

"I, uh, wouldn't know actually," you said shyly, running your finger over the rim of your glass. "Don’t really have a good frame of reference for that sorta thing."

Steve almost asked what you meant, but then understanding washed over him. He couldn't help but sputter and the almost spit-take would have been funny if it was under different circumstances. If it wasn't at your expense. "You- you've never had sex?"

He didn’t mean the question in any sort of mean way of course; he was genuinely just surprised by your admission. Though the way you rolled your eyes and the blush that creeped up your neck told him that you definitely took it that way. "I mean, have you ever heard me talk about having sex?"

"How did I not know this? We're best friends!"

"It's not exactly something I broadcast. Hello Hawkins, twenty-two year old virgin here."

Steve hated how you said the word with a sneer, like it was something awful. Hated how he definitely made it worse. "Come on, don't say it like that. Sorry if I made you feel bad; guess I figured you had done it and were just, I don’t know, being a lady or something."

You huffed, "I mean, it's not like I'm a prude. I've done stuff, I just never wanted to have sex with guys in high school, y'know? Most of them were gross. But after we graduated I just wanted to get it over with, so I went out with Kevin Murphy-"

"That's why you dated that asshole?" Steve interjected.

"I thought he'd be happy to do it!” You continued. “But he left when I told him I was a virgin, as if sleeping with me would make me wanna marry his dumb ass or something. I thought stupid boys liked innocent girls? I remember you bragging about how you were Nancy's first for days."

"Don't remind me how much of an dick I was-"

"But then I dated Matt from the swim team, and he was a little too into the whole thing, so dumped him. Then there was Ralphie but he was just a creep and after that I guess I just gave up. I didn’t realize how hard it'd be to find a guy to fuck me and not be weird about it."

Steve hated how sad you sounded after your confession. He genuinely was shocked by it; he had been too busy with his own sex life to really pay attention to yours when he was younger. But now he felt like an asshole for even bringing it up and he wanted to turn back the time; shove the words back in his mouth. He wanted to make it better.

"I could be the one, if y'want," the words left Steve before he could think better of them, before he could even think through them and they shocked him almost as much as they seemed to shock you, if your wide eyes and slack jaw were anything to go by.

"You drunk already, Steve?" You asked, a slight laugh at the end of your question to try to make light of the situation and part of Steve wished he was a little too drunk at the moment. He wished he could blame the offer on too many drinks so the two of you could laugh it off, forget about it in the morning.

The truth was that Steve was as sober as he could be. The question had flowed from his lips too easily because if he was being honest, he had thought about that for too long. He has wanted you to be his for years, but he lost his nerve and gained popularity and suddenly he was dating Kathy, then Nancy, then Brenda. Sleeping with other girls in between just because he could. He realized you deserved better than he could offer you. You were so much more than just a friend but still not what Steve wanted, not how he wished things could be between the two of you but even after every failed relationship, he never made a move. Never risked ruining the best fucking thing he'd ever had because if he just had you as his closest friend, well, that would have to be good enough.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t do this for you, though.

"Not drunk, trust me." He replied. "Just thinking."

Your expression was completely unreadable as your eyes bore into his. Steve couldn't tell if you wanted to agree or run for the hills or slap him for even suggesting such a thing. Eventually you responded, and he thought a nice slap from you would have hurt less.

"I don't wanna be a pity fuck, Steve."

And fuck, those words cut him like a knife because how could you think that's what you would mean to him? How could you think that he would just fuck you and that's all?

Steve wetted his lips, planning his words carefully this time, "You know it wouldn't be like that. It's just, this way your first time would be with someone who-" Someone who loves you.

"Someone who cares about you. And it's not like I wouldn't get anything out of it," he added with a grin to attempt to hide how much he was freaking out inside. He thought he saw the blush on your cheeks deepen even more if that were possible and you appeared to be actually considering his offer.

For some reason, it terrified him.

"If you're uncomfortable you can say no, obviously I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do and even if we'd start and you'd wanna stop I would-"

"Okay." You said, almost a whisper, and Steve swore he felt the air leave his lungs. Because he had wanted this since he was a teenager with too many hormones and not enough life experience to know what his feelings for you meant just yet. He had thought about you and him together like this far more times than he’d care to admit and the fact that you just accepted his offer, just like that, damn near brought him to his knees.

"Okay?" Steve clarified, making sure he heard right, hadn't imagined it.

"Yeah," you nodded, "Yeah, I know you'll take care of me."

And yes, he would. No matter what.

Some sort of silent understanding of tonight passed through the air between you. He grabbed your hand, blankets and half-empty glasses long forgotten as he led you through the hallway and up the stairs to his bedroom. Steve could feel the pound of his heart, the blood rushing in his ears and he wondered if he should say something before you both went through with this. Should he tell you that he's loved you for years, and that this would mean so much more to him than just helping out a friend? Does he tell you that he wants you to be his after this, too?

But before he could think about it any further the two of you got to his room, still comforting but there was a new feeling in the air now. The soft light from his bedside lamp illuminated your skin, you were looking at him with those eyes and he knew that he was a fucking goner.

You looked like you wanted to say something, your hands twisting in his cardigan as you worried your bottom lip. Clearly nervous and thinking your question over in your head before you spoke, "This isn't gonna change things between us, right?"

Steve wanted to say that they would. He wanted to tell you that he's wanted change for as long as he could remember, and that he's wondered if you wanted it, too. He wanted to say that this could change everything, and wouldn't that be wonderful? He wanted to say that he was almost as nervous as you undoubtedly were because he thought you were perfect, wanted this to be perfect and that this didn't have to be the only time.

He didn't say any of those things, though. Didn’t want to overstep so instead he settled on, "Not if we don't want it to."

You nodded, slowly, thinking his response over. He wondered if your silence was a sign; if your hesitation meant that you shouldn't do this.

“Hey,” Steve took your hands in his and he sat on the bed, meeting your eye level. “What're you thinkin' about, huh?”

Shaking your head, you offered him that small smile of yours that he secretly loved. "Nothing, just nervous I guess."

"We don't have to do anything," he started but you shook your head, assured him that you wanted this, wanted him. Then your hands were on his chest and there was a pleading look in your eye and you were asking if you could kiss him. It was like you couldn't wait any longer. Like you had waited a lifetime for this opportunity.

He wondered if you had, just like him.

Only a second passed before he whispered to you that of course you could, and then you were kissing him. It was soft, testing, just the push of your lips on his and it was everything. His blood rushed and he wondered if you felt the thump of his heart because how long had he waited for this? Wished for it?

You ended it too soon but he couldn't help but bring a hand to your cheek and pull you back in, just for one more because for all he knew, this would be the only time. He wanted to remember how you tasted, like sugar and sunlight and he didn't want it to end. Not yet.

“Sure about this?” he asked once he managed to pull away. Just to make absolutely sure that this was okay; that you really wanted him.

You just nodded, cheeks flushed and hands gripping the soft material of his sweater. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

The night was a blur after that. Steve willed time to slow just for that night, just a little while but the better things in life always pass too fast and this was no different. Still, he was determined to remember every detail about it. Soft sweaters and tee shirts being shrugged off, thrown somewhere in the room and hands touching bare skin. Kisses that Steve knew he would never have enough of. Your sigh that tickled his mouth as his hand grazed your hip bone and then even lower, and the way you sounded when he entered you, gasping and asking for more, chest heaving and fingers leaving little marks on his shoulders as you came.

He wanted to remember it all because it had never felt like this before.

Steve expected the awkwardness to come as you both cleaned up or brushed your teeth side by side at his sink, but it never came. Not even when he asked if you were okay did the conversation feel different than any other you'd usually have. It felt normal after, as if having sex with your best friend was something the two of you always did. When you both crawled into Steve's bed and flicked off the lamp, surrounded by darkness and the silence of the night, the shift in your friendship he'd half expected didn't surface. The night was quiet and calm like it always was.

It felt like a calm before a storm and neither of you were prepared.

Bittersweet celebrations, I know I can't change what happened

Things changed, as they inevitably would.

At least, they didn’t at first. Steve still woke up before you the morning after, like he always did whenever you spent the night. Still watched as sunlight filled the room and woke you from your slumber slowly. He still thought about waking you up with a good morning kiss; one that he could pour all of his feelings and wants into but he didn't, allowing the sunlight to kiss you awake instead.

You still shrugged on one of Steve's sweaters instead of your own, always finding comfort in the way it smelled like his shampoo and cologne. The two of you still shared breakfast at his dining table, the shy smile you wore and marks above your collarbone the only indications that something different had happened last night.

Steve wondered if he should bring it up; if he should ask if you were still okay or if you wanted to talk about it. He wondered if this would eventually change things, if something would finally come out of this.

He wondered if your lips still burned like his did. If you still felt his hands on you because he still felt yours.

But he kept quiet because he didn't know what to say. His brain told him that if you had wanted to talk about it, you would have brought it up yourself and before either of you knew, it was time for you to leave for your shift at work. So you left, hair still slightly mused from sleep and his sweater around your body. You loitered at his front door for a second, seemingly wanting something that he couldn't comprehend but after a beat, he let you leave.

He should have said something because everything changed after that.

Things were fine at first. Steve still saw you daily. You still made the same jokes and shared snacks on his couch during movie nights. Still rested your head on his shoulder when the hour got too late and you could barely stay awake. Days passed and you never talked about it, almost like that night never even happened. Steve kept thinking that he should bring it up, but the fact that you so pointedly did not bring it up told him that he probably shouldn't, right?

He wanted to, though. He wanted to so badly because he couldn’t stop thinking about how you felt against him that night.

If he thought he had it bad before, it was nothing compared to how his hands ached to link with yours when you walked next to him on the sidewalk. He wanted to grab you and kiss you again, not satisfied with the sample he’d gotten that night. You never asked him for it again, though, so he kept quiet, kept everything to himself. Steve thought he saw it in your eyes a few times; a silent plea whenever the two of you were together. You’d cuddle all close next to him on the couch, flash him a smile and for a split second he’d think about closing the gap, thinking that you were going to do it, but you never did. The two of you stayed on the side of friendship, like always.

Steve noticed a shift, seemingly out of nowhere. You stopped linking your hands through his in the car, jokes that once made you laugh only earned him a smile and you didn't ask to borrow his cardigans anymore. Then, you didn't come around as much.

You started visiting him at work less and less. Thanksgiving lunch with your parents was strained, more and more nights were spent without you and before Steve knew it, autumn had turned into winter and you were turning just as cold towards him.

You didn't go Christmas shopping with him like you had done every year prior. Hellfire nights at Eddie's somehow started to feel lonely as you opted to sit on the opposite side of the couch instead of curled into his side. Watching the kids play from the sidelines, keeping a safe distance.

You'd never done that before and Steve didn’t know how to navigate this.

Thankfully, you still came to his house for New Year's Eve. It had become somewhat of a tradition for everyone to come over to celebrate the holiday, but he had a hunch that you only came to see Robin and the kids.

It stung, but he'd take it. It had been too long since he'd seen you.

The night started out like it always did, Eddie and the kids talking D&D or Lord of the Rings by the outdoor firepit, Nancy and Jonathan off in their little area by the pool together, Vicki talking Steve's head off while you and Robin caught up on the porch.

The only change was you, who hadn't spoken a word to Steve the whole damn night. You, who had shown up in your own thick sweater instead of stealing one of Steve’s and opting for his liquor cabinet rather than him.

He wondered if you were embarrassed by what the two of you had done or if you regretted it. He had a haunting feeling that you did because he was starting to regret it himself. He didn't regret what happened, exactly, he would never regret that but he hated what happened after. If he had known that night would ruin the best friendship he'd ever had he never would have made that stupid fucking suggestion.

What was done was done, though. He couldn’t change it.

As the hour grew later the sparklers and poppers came out, Eddie broke out the s’mores, and his special blend mingled with the smell of gunpowder. Music and laughter was in the air and Steve couldn't help but smile at the scene, the people closest to him having the time of their lives just by all being together to celebrate the end of another year.

Well, all except you, it seemed.

You were no longer with Robin, and Steve didn't see you among the group of younger ones. He almost panicked as he looked around the yard and didn't see you, but his eyes caught a shape in the living room window.

You were inside, alone. Away from your friends and away from him.

Steve left to go inside and check on you, deciding that he missed his best friend too much and fuck, enough was enough, when he was cornered by none other than Dustin Henderson before he could even make it to the porch.

"What happened?" He asked Steve, no preamble or clarification needed for him to understand his question.

Dustin didn't need to know that, though.

"What're you talkin' about?"

"Don't play dumb, Steve. You know exactly what I'm asking. The two of you were joined at the hip and now you haven't talked all night! What. Happened."

Steve sighed, cursing his friend and his never ending curiosity. "We're fine, alright? Look, even if something did happen, you think I'd tell you?"

Dustin narrowed his eyes, “Do you really think I’m that stupid, Steve? Do you think any of us are that stupid?”

Steve really wished they were.

He hadn’t told anyone what happened, he knew you didn’t either but he also knew that the fact that something had gone on in the recent months was obvious to anyone with eyes and a brain cell. Thanks to the fact that you hadn’t spoken to him all night and were currently drinking on his couch alone instead of curled against his side.

“Fuck off, Henderson. Let the adults worry about the adults, okay?” With a pat to Dustin’s shoulder Steve continued to his destination, ignoring Dustin’s calls to him as he stepped into the house and made his way over to you.

"Hey," he said stupidly. He hated not knowing how to approach you or what to say. You only gave him a small hum of acknowledgement, so he tried again "What're you doing in here all by yourself?"

"Drinkin', ya know, end of the year and all. Kinda whatcha do" was your reply and Steve noted your glassy eyes and pink cheeks, your plastic cup that smelled like vodka with a hint of juice. It fucking killed him.

"What, gotta be drunk just to see me now?" He hated how he sounded defensive, hated how he felt the need to say something because he knew you were a lightweight and that you probably wouldn't even remember this in the morning. "How much have you had to drink, anyway?"

You shrugged, downed the cup and grimaced when the alcohol burned your throat. Steve wanted to cut you off, knowing you must be well past your limit but he couldn't. Not after the disaster with Nancy years back and besides, he didn't feel like he had the right to do it anymore. It's not like the two of you were friends at the moment.

He hated this. It had never been like this with you, was never supposed to be like this.

Steve took a chance, taking the seat next to you on the sofa. This was the most the two of you had spoken in weeks and he wanted to take what he could get. He didn’t know what to say though, because you had treated him like a stranger. Steve knew you better than anyone else, in more ways than he could count, but still you couldn’t seem to look him in the eye. The silence was deafening; Steve couldn’t remember ever feeling awkward next to you. Nervous, sure. Maybe even scared but never awkward. Not even after you had seen each other naked and knew what the other tasted like. So yeah, this awkward silence was new and unusual and Steve fucking hated it.

You broke it before he had to, though.

"Things are different now and I don't know what to do.” You whispered, closing your eyes to contain the tears gathering there. “I wanted you for so long and it was amazing but it was a mistake and it’s all fucked now.”

Steve watched as you paused, taking a breath between your rambles and he didn’t know how to feel at this moment. It felt like a climax, like a big reveal in a movie and he didn’t know what was coming. He knew it wouldn’t be good, though. Drunk confessions never were.

“I fucking love you, Steve, and I wanted it to be you and maybe that was selfish of me, but when you said that you wanted it too I thought that you wanted me and loved me. But I don’t think you love me like I love you."

Now, Steve thought that he had suffered a broken heart after Nancy called him bullshit, dumped him like garbage. At the time he naively thought she was the love of his life and the pain he felt in his chest was the worst he’d felt yet in his short, charmed existence.

This, though? This was soul crushing. The fact that you probably felt used and dumped out and it was all his fault. That you didn’t think he loved you after everything. The fact that you had just said that you loved him, but you were drunk, so was it even real?

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" He asked, disbelieving. Why didn't you tell me? Fuck, why didn't I tell you that I feel the same? Would it even matter now if I did?

But then he watched as your face fell, and tears you'd managed to hold in finally leaked, and he physically saw you deflate.

Steve was stunned, torn between wanting to run and wipe your tears like he'd always done but knowing you wouldn't let him. He didn’t know what to do because you had just told him what he had wanted to hear for years but you were drunk and heartbroken, and you wouldn’t even remember this in the morning. He didn’t get the chance to be happy about your feelings for him, wasn’t able to try to hold you close and tell you that it would be better in the morning because at that moment, a voice neither of you really expected to hear broke through the uncomfortable silence.

“Hey, Harrington, you got any-” Eddie stopped in his tracks and his face turned serious, noting the pained look on Steve’s face and the tears you tried to wipe with your sleeve. “Sorry, guess I’ll just go-”

“Nope!” You said, a little too enthusiastically. “I’ll go.” You stood and tried to walk to the door but the alcohol you had consumed was clearly affecting you now and you stumbled, both Steve and Eddie reaching to catch you before you fell.

“I don’t think you should be walking anywhere like this, drunky,” Eddie said, trying to add levity to the situation.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “Why don’t you just stay here, huh? We can talk about it in the morning.”

"'Cause everythin' worked out so great the last time I was in your bed?" you mumbled, speech slurring a little more and your eyes losing focus as you stared at him.

Steve didn’t miss the way Eddie looked at him then, eyebrows raised and looking like he was shocked, annoyed, angry. He wanted to wipe the look right off of Eddie’s face.

As if Steve would ever mean to hurt you.

“How about I walk you home?” Eddie offered, turning to face you before Steve could respond. “You’re right up the road, yeah?”

You agreed with little argument then, exhaustion seemingly taking over. Steve watched as Eddie grabbed your coat off of the back of the couch and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, just to steady you. He wanted to call out to Eddie, to convince you to stay so you would be here in the morning. Instead he watched the two of you leave out of the front door, avoiding your friends outside and leaving Steve to explain where you’d gone off to and why you weren’t just staying here like always. Maybe he deserved it, maybe this was some sort of karma for being a dick for years.

So Steve joined his friends outside, giving vague answers to Is she okay? and Why didn't she just stay here? He ignored the knowing grin on Dustin's face and the look Robin gave him that told Steve she would definitely be grilling him about this later. Steve ignored it all; too exhausted to explain and defend himself to his friends.

This was the first New Year's spent without you for what felt like forever and, fuck, Steve had never felt more alone.

I still love you, I still love you always

Let's not crack and break and part ways

Things weren't the same for weeks after that.

It wasn't for lack of trying on Steve's part, though. On New Year's Day he had gotten up as early as his hangover allowed him and made the short walk to your house, only to see Eddie walking out of the door just as Steve stepped onto the lawn. He told Steve that he had just stopped by to check in and that you were hungover but okay, and he didn't know if you'd want to talk to anyone right now.

Steve had a feeling that meant that you didn't want to talk to him but were too nice to say it.

So Steve waited, and then he called your house, then called it again the next day. Eventually he got your machine enough times to tell him to give it up. It hurt, but he gave you space and waited a week.

A week turned to two, and before anyone knew two months had gone by without speaking to one another. It seemed like you and Steve had finally outgrown each other, which is something he never thought would happen.

Because you and him were each other's person. Whenever he felt too lonely in his big, empty house or when you felt too lonely in your own head. You had always been there. Hell, he saw you way more than he saw his own parents. Steve was used to being without his parents; they’d leave for weeks at a time, come home for a day or two, then leave again. Give him a call every other week, just to make sure he wasn’t dead. He hadn’t ever gone longer than a day or two without speaking to you, though. The both of you had watched the other grow up and change, and had way too many inside jokes to count. But now you weren't there anymore and it felt like cutting off a limb.

As cliché as it sounded, it felt like he had lost a piece of himself.

He still saw you, of course. Hawkins was a small town and it was impossible not to run into you at the movie theater or the grocery store or even with your mutual friends. It hurt his chest a little each time, but he never acted on it. You'd give him the same look whenever you'd meet his eye; a little bit embarrassed and regretful. Disappointed.

Steve never meant to disappoint you.

It was obvious that he had, though. Whether it was because of what happened that night or what didn’t happen the morning after, he still wasn’t sure.

He had his hopes, of course. Hoped that your words on New Year’s Eve were true, that you loved him back. He didn’t know for sure, though and he was too chicken to try to ask you again.

Then March rolled around, beginning to melt the snow and by some small miracle, you'd asked to see him.

Well, not directly, but it was something.

Eddie's band was starting to really kick off. They had been playing small, local bars for years and had finally booked a gig in a college town a few hours away from Hawkins. It was easily the biggest they'd played yet, and no one in the group was going to miss it.

Steve knew that he'd be driving Robin and Vicki to the show and Jonathan and Nancy would probably choose to go separately. The only question was you and how you'd get there. You loved Eddie's band, and there was no way you'd miss a show like this. Steve also knew that you didn't have a car, so you'd have no way to get there unless he'd drive you, too.

Which, he wasn’t about to hold his breath for. It came as a huge shock when Robin and Steve were on the phone the night before the concert, talking logistics and she mentioned that he'd be picking you up.

"Um, Robin, does she know that I'm picking her up?" He asked, unsure if he'd heard her correctly since you hadn't spoken a word to him since New Year's.

He practically heard her smirk through the phone, "Even better, she asked you to. So you better work your shit out before picking us up, got it?"

Which brought him to the night of the show, slowly pulling up your driveway and wondering just how this was going to go. It felt foreign yet familiar, and he started to step out of the car to knock on your window like he always did when you stepped out of the front door, giving him a little wave before locking your door.

God, he’d missed you.

The drive to Vicki and Robin’s was quiet. Even with music playing softly from the speakers, the air inside felt heavy with the unspoken words between you. You’d seemed like you wanted to say something the whole drive, but you stayed quiet. Steve didn’t think he’d be able to take it much longer when you finally spoke just as he was turning on Robin’s street. "Thanks for driving me, I didn't wanna miss the show."

"Don't sweat it," he took the moment to turn towards you, reveling in the image of you next to him in the car again. His front seat had felt empty for far too long. "You look pretty tonight.” He knew he was pressing his luck but the smile you gave told him that you didn't mind. It wasn't much, but it was something.

He wanted to ask how you'd been and if things could ever go back to the way they were because he missed his best friend, but the girls were already running towards his car, effectively cutting off the conversation. That was, until you finally arrived in Bloomington a couple hours later, the four of you tumbling out of the car to stretch your legs and you’d grabbed Steve’s arm, asking if the two of you could hang back.

You leaned against his car, fidgeting with the sleeve of your denim jacket. "I'm sorry I've been avoiding you. I was just embarrassed about what I said at New Year’s.”

Steve was stunned. “You remember that?”

You grimaced, “Well, Eddie kinda told me the next day. I’m so sorry, you didn’t deserve what I said about, y’know, being in your bed. I was just being stupid."

Oh.

Of course, that’s what you meant. You had no fucking idea that you had spilled your feelings for him along with your tears before Eddie barged in.

Steve shook his head, waved it off and tried to fake indifference to it all. “No, it’s fine, I probably deserved it.”

“You didn’t! I knew what I was getting into that night, it’s not your fault." You took a breath, fingers tapping on his car as you broke his gaze. "I'm sorry for avoiding you before that, too. I just didn't know how to be around you anymore, but I miss you so I wanna just forget about it. Move on."

He could honestly say that he considered leaving it at that in the hopes of saving your relationship but he found that he couldn’t. Call it bravery, stupidity, or just being fed up with the downfall of your friendship since autumn. Steve had an inkling that it was partially due to him not talking to you.

Not telling you how he felt before.

Not doing anything the morning after.

Not fighting to see you after New Years.

The two of you had been able to confide in the other about every little thing since you were kids, so why not this? Why not something as monumental as what happened between you and how you felt about one another?

Steve felt bold, brave. He was tired of the comfortable, tired of the contentment he had allowed himself to live in, because what if something better was waiting on the other side?

So, he went for it.

"You told me that you love me." Steve said, voice surprisingly even despite the nerves he felt. He watched as your eyes went wide, and if the neon bar signs hadn't been painting your faces red, he knew he would have seen a deep blush blossom on your cheeks. "On New Years, you said that you love me. Did you mean it? 'Cause I gotta be honest, I've been in love with you for a really long fucking time."

Steve couldn’t focus on anything but you; barely registered the drunk college kids shuffling on the sidewalk or the shitty rock music coming from inside the bar. All he wanted to focus on was how the shock on your face morphed into relief, embarrassment fading away as it clicked in your brain that he felt the exact same way you did.

"'Course I love you, Steve. I've loved you for years. That's why I didn't know how to be around you after. I guess part of me thought it didn't mean anything to you and I just didn't know how to deal with that. Then I was so fucking scared afterwards because I thought I lost you."

Steve could feel his heart lighten in his chest, the weight he’d been carrying for months finally lifting at your confession. His heart also constricted after you confirmed his fears, that you didn't think it mattered at all to him. It was a confusing feeling; an uncomfortable circumstance and he wanted to make it right.

"Are you kidding?" He asked, reaching for your hands like he did that night. "That could never not mean anything to me. I belong to you, you know that? Have for a while now. I was just too scared to say anything and ruin us.”

You beamed at his words, pure happiness oozing out of you it was a sight Steve hadn’t seen in a long time.

It was something he wanted to see every damn day.

“We’re so stupid, aren’t we?” Your voice held a laugh, an airy sound that Steve had missed more than he realized.

He nodded, the motion making you laugh even more and he reveled in it “I’m sorry I was an idiot. Sorry I didn’t say anything.”

You squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry too, again. For everything.”

“I’m sorry I hurt you. I never meant to, you know that, right?”

“I know, and I think we should say something other than 'sorry' now.” The implication of your words weren't lost on Steve, and he wasn't going to let this moment slip by, too.

"I love you," he said, grinning when your smile widened even more at his words, eyes turning a little glossy but he knew they were good tears this time. He pulled you closer, emboldened by the feelings bubbling up in his chest and the way you were looking at him like he was all you'd ever wanted. "I love you, and I want you to be mine 'cause I think I've always been yours."

You leaned yourself even closer to him, body centimeters from his but it still didn't feel close enough. Not after so long of not being with each other. "I love you, and I wanna be yours."

There were many things Steve could have said after that. He could have whispered out more apologies, other would've, should've moments you both let pass over the years but he knew those didn't matter, not right now at least. So instead, he did what he wanted to do since the first time.

He pushed into you, closing the gap that was left and kissed you, mirroring your smile with his own when he felt it. It was safe and comforting, like coming home and he never wanted to leave.

"We should get inside," you whispered after you broke apart, foreheads resting against the other. The whole reason why you were here in the first place was almost completely forgotten by Steve and part of him wanted to skip out on it all together; make up for lost time with you. He could have happily stayed outside with you alone; could have listened to Eddie's noise from the road, endured the dirty looks from your friends later but he realized that this wasn't going to be the only time. You and him were going to talk about this again, be changed for the better come morning. So he relented, nodding before pressing another kiss to your cheek, taking your hand and leading you to the door.

As friends, but as much more, too.

#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fic #implied smut #stranger things #st fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve the hair harrington #dermot kennedy

330 notes · View notes

thekinkyleopard · 5 months

Text

Snzfire of Hostility

Part 2 of a Non-Canon AlxKoxNai Fic Series

⚠️Content Warning⚠️

Snz Fet, Bullying, Sexual Harassment, Smut, Sneaky Public oral, coercion

Description: Draeko is the fresh meat at College, new in town, and at first the jocks Alistar and Kanai, don’t find much interest in him. Until they find out he’s rather a little factory of entertainment and fetish gold. What will become of them all?

Author’s Notes: EEEEE I am like living for this series rn I have so many ideasss!!! Please enjoy this next steamy chapter as Al ups the Ante >:) art, Drae and Kanai all by @aller-geez !

Draeko was less than enthused to walk into Culinary class after having had creative writing prior. It seemed everything was more or less normal. Al hadn’t been there for last period and Kanai was never usually a problem by himself. Yet, he worried. Worried he would have to sit with that strange emotionless man and work together on their meal for the day in awkward silence. It was his second week in, and now classes were starting to feel more like work and less like cocktail hour.

The pastel colored male walked carefully into culinary and much to his dismay, both the Navy haired man and red head sat at the table. He sighed. Walked forward, avoiding eye contact with either, he sat in the seat to the right of Kanai furthest from Al. He did notice, however, that their other partner, Sloan, was missing. She must be out sick, Draeko assumed. This wasn’t good news, she was usually his go to when it came to avoiding conversation with the two intimidating men. Today, was incredibly different without her. What was he to do now that he couldn’t use her as a crutch?

“Now class today we are going to cook Lemongrass Chicken…learning how to use herbs and spices to our advantages we will….” As she droned on, the red head slowly creeped over, leaning enough over Kanai to see the pastel colored pup.

“Hey…pst…kid…” he cupped his hand around his mouth to hopefully draw out a louder sound than he was really making.

“What?” The younger tried to avoid eye contact still, not really wanting to get too involved with whatever shenanigans the other had in store.

“Good to see you…how you feelin’?” Waggling his eyebrows with a cheeky aura radiating off his person. Drae sat back and rolled his eyes now, blatantly ignoring the red head to avoid talking about the incident. Alistar hadn’t stopped thinking about it, and he was going to find some way to get the sensation to come back. Infact he had been mulling over ideas the other day with Kanai. Ever since that class, the demon was more than obsessed with the little freshman. He wouldn’t need them on this day though. As their instructor went on to first show them how their meal would be made, the fresh scent of cooking lemongrass was already starting to tickle and prick at Draeko’s sensitive nostrils. But he held strong. Tweaking his nose side to side to fight off the insistent urge.

“Now remember, you need to make sure your chicken is thoroughly cooked, or else risk giving someone illness, do we think we can handle it?” She asked as she finished up the meal, plated it and cut open the main dish to show off her perfectly cooked chicken. “Alright everyone get to it!” Draeko flung himself from the table to get away from the two demons, not that he really ever had an issue with the more navy themed one. He tended to mind himself when the red head wasn’t around, but he egged him on and aided regardless. The two were in cahoots and that meant Drae trusted neither of them. As he was gathering the ingredients and everyone was bustling about, the professor deeply invested in her computer screen, Al pressed up against the other’s back.

“Think you can handle it?” He repeated the professor’s words, purring into the mutt’s ear, causing the younger to tremble beneath him.

“E-excuse me?” Draeko turned his head to the side, his eyes trying to find him in his peripherals at the very least, face dusted in light pink, was he flirting with him?

“Cutting up the chicken and stuff do you think you can handle it? Me and Kanai just sort of burn things so like…if you could do the most of it….?” Suddenly he asked very nonchalantly, almost like there hadn’t been a seductive purr at the edge of his tone.

“Why bother taking the class if you’re not gonna learn the skill…?” Drae rolled his eyes trying to focus away from how close the man was standing up against him.

“Easy A? Gets elective credits out the way? Many reasons kiddo, but get to cookin’,” he slapped the smaller across his ass and Draeko’s cheeks burned bright red. He looked around to see had anyone noticed the assault but they hadn’t and he almost felt upset over it. It was weird, the more he acted like he didn’t like it, the more his brain started to rewire itself, like he couldn’t deny himself how hot the two men were.

Kanai at the other end of their kitchen was doing his best to chop and mince the garlic but found himself snipping the tip of his index, not enough to gush blood everyone but enough for the man to furrow his brows and let go of the knife. “Alistar, I can’t seem to get the right grip I have now cut myself several times, is there no other way to do this effectively and efficiently?” Looking over at his two partners now. Al backed up off the mutt and came by to look at his friend’s hand.

“Tch tch….see what I mean pup? We’re practically useless over here,” he clicked his tongue in disapproval at his friend’s wounds, looking over at the mutt raising Kanai’s hand up in the air to draw attention to the incident.

“Ok but can you at least cut the lemongrass yourselves? I can’t stand the smell of it,” he sighed, rolling his eyes and taking over the spot to which Kanai had just been cutting garlic, not before rinsing his knife off though.

“Oh? You can’t stand the smell of it?” Alistar’s brow raised curiously as he looked over at the serving of ingredient that was on the counter awaiting its time.

“Yeah, I don’t and there’s so much around…” the sizzle of several other pans started to make Draeko nervous. It was different when it was across the room and just one pan going but now it’s at least three and they hadn’t even started theirs yet. He could feel it sliding down his sinuses and grasping him by the throat, he set the knife down and brought his hands swiftly upward in an attempt to stifle it “H-hnn…GXNT!” Draeko’s body shook and lurched forward as he tried his best to conceal himself. It was of no use. Alistar leaned up against the counter, elbow propped and his chin on top of a closed fist.

“Marvelous, see Kanai? When you ask, thou shall receive…I’m tellin’ you I’m grandpa’s favorite….” Kanai rolled his eyes at the comment but watched none the less, still tapping at his nicked finger. Draeko’s legs shook and his lips quivered while he tried his best to fight the sensations building inside of his nostrils.

“Please….” He pleaded with himself more than anyone else. Why? Why can’t he just keep it down?? The lemongrass filling the air around the entire classroom was making the mutt sweat, trying to focus on chopping the garlic, then the chicken but with everyone already at the point of sizzling their pans, the younger couldn’t hold out any longer.

“Here it comes,” Alistar nudged and elbowed his best friend as they both stared down the other who set down the knife once again to try and catch himself before he could contaminate the food.

“K’GNSH’iiew!!” Into the palms of his hands now, his brows furrowed and his nose crinkled. “H’iish’ue!!” He backed up but only found himself bumping straight into Alistar’s chest. “I- need-…h’H…” cut off by a sharp gasp that caught in his throat.

“Help? A hand?” The demon guessing as he snickered and placed his hand under the younger’s nose and wiped it clean for him. Rubbing off the ick and wet onto his crusty black patched up jeans.

“tch’ISSH!!” The small kitten sneeze escaped him as he was trying to find his way FROM the red head, and to ground himself against the counter again. However, Al took hold of the small hybrid’s hip and gripped it, grinding his hard length into the other so he can feel as he sneezed against his large body.

“God you have no idea what that does to me…” He growled, his voice excited like a rock n roll artist announcing his entrance to the city, but it was only the group of them that could hear it. He took a deep inhale of the other’s messy different colored hair. It was sweet, but that was behind the larger scent of citrus in the air. Draeko bit his lower lip, his watering eyes scanned the room around him and as he realized not a single soul was there to pay attention, all fixated on their own tasks, he almost felt excited. Were they aware of this too? No one was watching them?

“Stop…we’re gonna get in trouble…” he whimpered trying to shuffle innocently away but Al kept him tight in his grasp. Draeko’s nose tweaked and twitched, reaching up as he tried to scratch it by rubbing it in circles in loud clicks.

“Doubtful, Miss H is too busy sexting her foreign online boyfriend and the rest of the class is trying not to burn their chicken….as far as we are concerned, no one gives a shit, but what would be great….is if you could make yourself useful under the counter….” Pointing downward. It’s true, if he did go below the counter, no one would spot him but in what world does the red head think he was that easy???

“Hey! Asshole! What makes you….” He started but was swiftly cut off by the other’s quick index placed at his lips.

“You may put on a real brave face here kiddo but,” reaching around he gripped the front of Drae’s pants, the crotch specifically feeling in his grip the young hybrid was indeed throbbing.

“Okay…fine…you caught me! Doesn’t mean I’ll just do as you say!” He grumbled with embarrassment, face fully flushed as he realized the compromising situation he was being put into was leaving him with not many choices.

“Won’t it though? Not even for Kanai?” The Navy haired man blinked looking almost lost between them all.

“Are we not cooking the meal, Donnie?” Asking curiously, seeing as that was the only real task that was asked of him in the last hour, from what he could recall. He was a tad bit concerned how they got here so fast but stepped closer nonetheless when he was beckoned by Al’s index.

“No, Nai, we will, we’re just going to get a helping hand as well,” Alistar shoved the mutt to his knees hiding him under the counter top, as he stepped closer to reach the station in order to finish the preparation. Regardless of what was expected, the shorter of the three still found himself rubbing and twitching his nose in irritated circles. “Stand closer,” he grabbed Kanai by the collar of his shirt and swiftly pulled him in.

At first and second glance, it looks like Alistar is cooking and prepping while the other of the visible two, is watching carefully. “Get to it,” the red head commanded, and though he had plenty of room to say no, and felt comfortable enough to do so…the excitement that built within Drae’s core seemed to sing louder than his pride. Slowly he unbuckled and unzipped both the men in front and beside him, careful to not make too many unnecessary noises that may seen out of the ordinary. Though, unlikely they’d be heard with a class full of chatting students and sizzling cookware.

The red head paid no mind and slapped in the chicken, along with the mass amounts of lemon grass he chopped. “That may be too much Donnie,” Nai tried to engage forgetting that regardless, the idea was not to actually care about today’s meal, but today’s opportunity.

“Shhhh I know what I’m doing,” he turned up the heat and suddenly as the lemongrass began to sizzle in the oil of the heating pan, the aroma poisoned the air, and Drae from below, already struggling to pull the men out of their pants, felt the painful and prickling sensations of doom coming back to haunt him.

“B-ut…I-…” Draeko managed to pull the red head from the confines of his boxer briefs and stared his length down before his eyes slowly began to struggle and even cross. They squinted and pinched, a small line of tears, dripped down his cheek and he knew, it was a complete waste of his energy to fight it. “iit’shHIEW! hdt’ishhhh!! TCH’iSh!” He soiled Alistar’s length that twitched with excitement, only making the older student groan and involuntarily push his hips forward.

“Fuck that is awesome….” He looked over at Kanai who, in turn looks rather bored, yet to see the appeal while Drae struggled below them. “You’ll see…” he snickered continuing to try and remain focus on not burning the food.

Draeko nervously was able to have both lengths released and waiting on him, he snuffled and pushed the back of his hand against his nose to sniffle down whatever ick build up he had from his consistently allergic face. He looked over and gripped the Navy haired man’s length in his palm, nervously looking up with glossy eyes, Kanai looked back. His heterochromiatic gaze lidding as there was contact made with his slowly lengthening cock. Not nearly as ready to go as Al was, and Drae takes a moment to drag the flattened end of his tongue under the other’s shaft. Stopping at the tip of his head to suck gingerly, and tease the tall, stoic one. This seemed to bring the man to life as well as his length before he swallowed it fully and allowed it to hit the back of his throat. Al looked down to see the display and smirked reaching to grab Draeko’s free hand and bring it up to his cock.

“Don’t forget about me over here,” he grumbled playfully as he tried to keep his voice low. The sound of loud sizzling knocked him back to reality before long and he went back to pushing and flipping the meat around carefully. The mutt gripped Al’s cock in his palm slowly stroking with purpose and his mouth worked to fluff the other’s slowly growing length as well.

“Shit….” Kanai groaned gripping tightly to the counter as he fought between wanting to watch the small hybrid give him brain, and also follow along watching to make sure Alistar didn’t fail them. Drae’s eyes slid to a close while his tongue and mouth continued to swallow and devour, he was just starting to get himself together when the redhead turned up the heat and poured a shot of wine into the pan. Flames roared upward as he torched the lemongrass to squeeze every last tormenting cell out of its aroma. “D-Donnie…the recipe doesn’t call for w-wine….” Trying to guide his best friend back to the basics, who simply laughed with his own hooded gaze.

“Don’t question me just wait and see…” and it didn’t take long, the burning scent of lemongrass wafted even stronger in the air with it having been freshly scorched under the wine flambé. Draeko’s nostrils twitched, his eyelids fought, open and closed, open and closed….his throat tightened up around Kanai who’s nails dug into the wooden counter and nearly split a huge chunk completely off the surface entirely but managed to stop at cracking it.

“Shit….” He hissed between gritting teeth and a clenched jaw. Drae, trying to keep himself from exploding all over the demon’s length, finding himself unable to do so when it finally struck him, his throat closing up and he immediately pulled back on it.

“hih’iiiSSHHHuu! hhh’ISCHih! ” He sprayed across Kanai’s dick the man grunting and looking over at his red headed counter part.

“You’re right….does feel great…” he looked back down and could see the mutt’s brightly blushing and flushed face, embarrassed, as he tried to fix up and wipe off his face.

“Stop that,” Alistar started swatting at Draeko’s hands. “I wanna see you get messy….i want your own liquids dripping down your face while you please us…” he had leaned down at an angle to whisper seductively at Drae who blinked slowly, trying to capture every syllable before he…

“hh'IETSH’UE!” Another one, his eyes reddened and leaking, same as his poor nose, the irritation of rubbing at him had almost made it feel raw. Alistar reached down, took a fistful of Draeko’s hair and dragged his mouth over to his cock and shoved his way down the mutt’s throat, slowly fucking his face hole while he remained pushing the chicken about, it was starting to look a little….done. Yet Al couldn’t stop here.

“Don’t stop…” he growled , his hips snapping with every hard swallow. Draeko’s fist twisted Kanai’s length, pumping at the same rhythm he was sucking on the red head. His eyes leaked, his nose and the sides of his mouth also dripped while he kept himself stuffed full. A soft snuffle heard every 3rd suck as he was not a fan of how his snot kept threatening to leak down his lips. “I’m close….” Alistar grunted through, turning off the heat he gripped the counter in both his hands and like a wild animal began to face fuck the absolute dog shit out of Draeko’s mouth, causing a uncontrollable mass of drool to start leaking from the corners of his lips. “Here it comes…..” he warned before blowing his load completely down Draeko’s tight throat. At this moment, the mutt wasn’t ceasing his motions upon Kanai’s length, still pumping and squeezing the tip to encourage the taller to follow behind but he just couldn’t quite get there yet.

Alistar’s nails dug into the counter as his orgasm rocked through him and his vision turned to stars, rolling into the back of his skull as he jerked himself forward in repetition. Drae gagged, and choked trying to keep the mess to a minimum as the seed slid down his throat, lifting himself off he quickly turned his advances to Kanai, his mouth switching cocks like it was suddenly his day job.

The wet warmth surrounding Kanai was just what he needed to silently reach over and clench Alistar’s shoulder, the red head sucking air between his teeth in pain. “F……uck….” Red eyes wide as he tried to keep his volume to a minimum while his best friend practically clawed him. The navy haired male didn’t care, his eyes rolled back and he rocked as his length spilled down the mutt’s throat, who expertly swallowed each load without a fight to put up. Once he was satisfied with his clean up, Drae quickly collapsed rubbing at his nose, bringing the back of his shirt across his incredibly wet face.

“Nah nah don’t do that yet….” Alistar stopped him by gripping the shirt and keeping it from reaching his face.

“Wh-…” Drae looked up at the man almost flabbergasted by the request. What did he mean he couldn’t clean himself up?

“Let me take a picture first you look fucking crazy,” Grinning with a side smirk plastered across his smug face, the hybrid rolled his eyes, stuck out his tongue and folded his arms across his chest.

“No! You can’t….” Looking up and away from Al’s gaze to emphasize he wasn’t going to crack.

“Want me to announce to everyone you sucked our cocks in class instead? Hm?” Draeko’s eyes widened and blushed, looking away he shook his head slowly and then back up at the red headed demon. This was humiliating. He couldn’t believe he allowed himself to be seduced by these two….CLOWNS. They don’t even respect him!

Yet as Alistar snapped his photos, and the class started to question what was taking them so long, Kanai had managed to zip himself up and scramble the food from the pan….looking less than perfect. Bringing the plates to the table, everyone’s eyes were more or less on their meals or on Kanai. No one noticed when Draeko managed to pop up, wiping his face and rushing to grab a few paper towels. He crinkled them, wet them with warm water and placed it on his aching bridge. The scent still lingered in the air but at least with the towels on his face, it soothed his poor aching sinuses. “Good work, pup,” he smirked watching the poor mutt do his best to soothe his reddened and swollen face.

Ruffling the other’s messy duo-colored hair before he sauntered off confidently as if he didn’t just face fuck the life out of him. Draeko stood there in the kitchenette as everyone talked amongst themselves and ate their food. He looked up, pinching the bridge of his nose and toward the ceiling light of the classroom ceiling. What the fuck was he doing? He came to college to change his life and he’s back to his whore behavior, seriously? Sucking the dicks of the two dudes that have been the most disrespectful to him since he started coming here? There has to be a word for this. This takes the cake. He was never going to change. He couldn’t handle a life without chaos.

He sniffled loudly, and used the now cooling rag to wipe and clear his nose before tossing it away in the trash, wiping his nose dry with the back of his shirt. It wasn’t an entirely good look but the kid was exhausted, disappointed in himself, still incredibly attracted to the two obnoxious jocks, and again, disappointed in himself. He slowly dragged his feet to the table, sitting down to see chunks of burnt chicken on his plate with a side of half crunchy rice. “What….the fuck is this?” He asked with a squeamish look across his face.

“Lemongrass chicken,” Al replied with a monotoned voice, mid chew as he and Kanai both seemed relatively unphased, whilst crunching their over/under done entrees.

“This is burnt….and the rice isn��t….done?” Drae had picked up a fork to push around the food looking between it and his classmates. They both stayed silent. “Guys! I thought you said you had this???” He suddenly furrowed at them, his voice exasperated when Kanai finally turned to look at him.

“It seems that yes, Alistar did not cook the meal to complete perfection, however, sustenance is still sustenance, I see this as an edible B+ at the least,” shrugging his shoulders, Al pointing his fork in the other’s direction and nodded in agreement.

“That part,” shoveling another fork full of garbage into his mouth. Draeko shook his head back and forth and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You’re gonna be the reason I fail a damn elective class aren’t you?” Sighing deeply with irritation, sliding back into his chair.

“Me? I recall choices being made on your end, all I did was urge the desire,” licking his teeth as his gaze finally shot up to take a good look at the mutt in his own stubborn orbs.

As they glared daggers at one another the instructor wound up coming around to check on everyone, coming to a screeching halt at their table. “Oh my, I’d really suggest you three go home tonight, together and practice this recipe….this looks….terrible,” she clicked her tongue in disappointment.

“Hey, to each their own teach! I’d say it’s exactly how I like it,” Alistar chuckled flashing her a charming side smile that didn’t seem to sway her opinion any.

“I’m….sure….PRACTICE! I want to see a video next week of you three redoing this meal,” Draeko sighed slumping and sliding further into his chair as he knew this would mean only one terrible thing. He would have to be exposed to that damn herb near those damn hooligans again and that’s honestly going to be the death of him.

“Ma’am I can do it, it would have been fine, I just had an allergic reaction from all the pans going at once….so I had Al take charge but do I really have to redo it?” Looking up at her sheepishly with an unconvincing half smile, she looked at him, a flat expression written across her face before she responded.

“That’s not an excuse, yes you really have to redo it,” rolling her eyes at the pathetic attempt Drae had even made to get out of it.

“Fuck dude….” He groaned slamming his forehead straight onto the table with an expressive thud. Alistar snickered, leaning over to wrap his arms around the sulking mutt.

“Guess we’ll see you tonight huh? Our place?” More than prepared for all the ways he was going to make this video his own special home movie. He’d do the homework part too sure, sure.

“I’m not coming,” Draeko narrowed his eyes before rolling them in the opposite direction. Alistar only inched closer.

“You’ll fail the assignment,” reminding the other of the importance to pass each meal as if their entire grades depended on it.

“I don’t care,” shrugging his shoulders. Was he bluffing? Entirely, but he wasn’t positive that the demon could figure that out if he sounded confident enough.

“You sure about that?” Raising a thin red brow. He didn’t believe him. Even for a second.

“Positive,” Huffing out his nostrils now to indicate he wasn’t going to teeter or sway, there would be no meet up. He wasn’t to be left alone with those two heathens or so help him he go back to his old ways.

“See you at 9pm tonight then,” Alistar chuckled confidently, backing off the mutt before grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. Kanai doing the same as they anticipated the end of class.

“…..” the bell rung and Draeko could feel himself practically jump out of his seat. Would he go? He knew what would happen if he was left alone with those two, without a bunch of students around to witness. Put him in a room with those two assholes and he’s gonna make it stank. He shook his head. “Why am I like this?” the logical side of his brain finally kicking in as he unclogged himself of the “what ifs”. Clutching his backpack to his person tightly, he considered what he was to do for the rest of the day, but what was he to choose?

To be Continued…

Author’s Notes: Little intense I know I know but like 🤤 I love public stuff~ little bit shorter than the last one? I think? Idk anyway I have some good ideas for the next few chapters~ I love Al bullying Drae into doing nasty shit 🥰😍 and Kanai just going along for the ride cause why not 😍 ugh using Draeko like a snzy fuck Toy. So hot. 🥵

#original character #oc #writer #fic writer #snzblr #snz kink #snz #art #smut #lemons #fic series #snz fic series #alxkoxnai

20 notes · View notes

slovoricbutbetter · 6 months

Text

Anarchy Class for Subs and Bottoms: Intro

[slaps chalkboard with a spanking paddle] so! class is in session! today we'll be talking about anarchism! i know, the saying 'no gods, no masters' may be quite alarming to a lot of you, but please, do try to stop wiggling in your restraints and listen.

[picks up chalk and quickly longhands a nearly incomprehensible word.]

so the core tenant of anarchism, as i see it, is responsibility. [slaps the word for emphasis.] responsibility for yourself, your community, and the natural world around you. don't groan now! i know you submissive ass bitches like daddy to come in and take care of things, as well as the threat of punishment to keep you in line, but we must all learn to function on our own, and daddy needs support too, so suck it up or else help me god. [corrects glasses]

now, there are three main pillars of responsibility. number one! [longhands another scribble that might just be the word 'penis' but it's very loopy so who can tell] recognising and differentiating between instances where you do or do not have control. what i mean by that is, of course, is that you'll have extra homework- beat your head against the desk again and i'll assign more- on the nature of systemic issues such as racism, ableism and queerphobia in late stage capitalism, so you are better equipped to handle this pillar.

in more familiar terms, consider a potential dom. if they live halfway across the world and both of you are poor, the distance is not something you can control- however you can change other things to accommodate each other if you so wish. neither of you can take responsibility for handling the distance at the moment, and neither of you is responsible in case long distance relationships don't work for them. in other areas, however, you still have responsibility.

number two! [two words this time, they definitely say 'tasty clit'] recognising your limitations. if you are disabled, you should not be held responsible for things you physically can not do- so for example, if your disability prevents you from leaving the house, you can not be faulted for not doing mutual aid. on a similar note, taking a break is not a sin! you can not bear the load- do not snicker in class! brats, all of you- you can not bear the weight of responsibility at all times, sometimes you need to let go and be taken care of, or left alone.

in more familiar terms, limits and boundaries! we all know if a dom doesn't let you have them, that's a red ass flag the size of germany. so you have to allow yourself to have them, too- none of that 'i don't have limits do whatever you want daddy' bullshit! it's not sexy and only really shows you are not a well-established human being.

number three! [longhands 'application' beautifully and perfectly readably on the desk] if neither of the former two apply, fucking do it! get your head out your ass, take a breath, and start on the goal you wish to achieve. if you want there to be a union at your work place, start one- you're human and you have power. if you want to join a mutual aid circle, find one- the internet is a wonderful place with so much information at your fingertips. you are capable of inducing change, and while that means you might induce bad change, it also means you might shape a better future.

in more familiar terms, say there is an issue in the relationship- you can sulk and get depressed about it, or you can communicate with your dom and clear it up. now!! onto the most important part of the class.

imagine the stupidest, most pointless rule you can. now imagine your dom sets it along with dozens of harsh and stupid rules, doesn't explain them, and punishes you until you're a sobbing mess whenever you break them. they don't give aftercare, and your begging to shift the rules to be ever so slightly softer, easier, more logical, falls on deaf ears. in fact, they crack down harder whenever you try to bring up how the rules are unfair. they tell you you can never leave because they're the best there is, and you clearly deserve it anyway because you're failing at the rules.

[poignant pause.]

the state is the dom. how much do any of you know about the legal system? have you ever tried getting into it? it's dense as fuck, and purposefully so- it doesn't exist to protect us, it exists to protect the profits of some rich motherfuckers on their golden thrones sipping the most expensive champagne in ivory towers or whatever it is the one percent do. i know, i know some of you motherfuckers could eroticise what i have described, but for the love of absolute fuck, try to imagine living like that every day, with no breaks, half starved and cold and lonely.

oh, did i mention you never even got a choice on whether you got into a relationship with this guy? 'cause you didn't, you were their child bride. imagine all that shit! every red flag, right? and we just let it govern our lives like it's normal not to have a single say in how your community is ran! don't you think taking on a little bit of responsibility is better than this?

[looks around the class] okay! i'll hand out the keys to your cuffs now and we'll have a q&a. i will still be expecting the homework- what did i say about banging your head against the desk! [looks at the camera] this class is a fucKING NIGHTMARE

#...#i don't know what you followed me for but uh. this is what you get lmao #might make this into a series. next tag is the one i'll use in such a case #bd/sm classroom #bd/sm kink #bd/sm community #anarchism #anarchist #politics #long post #roleplay #school #god fucking help me #slovo talks

21 notes · View notes

silentwillowwhisperer · 1 year

Text

Negotiating

I just watched the entirety of Owl House in 3 days, why is it over? My soul hurts.

——————————————

When Keith permanently steps back up as black paladin, he does it knowing he will have to step out of his comfort zone.

However, he would gladly never negotiate with an alien leader ever again.

Anytime someone turns to him, expecting an answer or comment on the conversation, he can’t help but freeze up. The others have already accepted that this is just Keith being incredibly socially awkward, but it’s still painful to watch.

Finally after a grand total of 3 separate occasions of watching Keith struggle, Lance steps in. He, along with the rest of the team, all know what Keith has to say, but the alien leaders always turn to Keith, completely ignoring the others.

This particular planet has a name too long for Lance to pronounce, but the regal queen sitting at the head of the conference table acts the same as any other upper-class individual.

At the moment, her cold, unnerving glare is set on Keith as she waits for him to gather himself enough to speak.

Lance beats him to it.

“Your imperial highness. It’s our k pleasure to be here with you, and if I may, I’ll start with the briefing.”

The queen is shikwe. She whips her head back and forth between Lance and Keith so hard that Lance knows that she’ll feel it tomorrow.

She sneers. “I was told that the black paladin is in charge. As his second, you should not be speaking out of turn.”

Keith is not at all impressed. He suddenly, his chair screeching backwards. His hands slam down on the table and all eyes turn to him.

“Lance is my right hand, and has as much of a right to be speaking as I do. If you’d like us to continue to aid you and your people, then you will not treat any one of my team like that, ever.”

Lance had been sinking down into his seat at the queens words, worried that he had cost them the alliance, but he should have known that Keith wouldn’t let that slide. As inept as he is with his words, his fiery temper gains him the respect and compliance of everyone around him, when applied correctly.

Keith sits back down and motions for Lance to continue, a small smile settling on his face.

Lance grins back and leads the meeting. He is not questioned after that.

It continues on like that on every planet they recruit.

Keith has small panic attacks during those meetings regularly, but they’ve gotten manageable since Lance took the reins.

Lance doesn’t mind at all, he has a way with people, and this role makes him feel useful. It helps that Keith mouths a small thank you to him and pats his hand after every meeting.

Over time, their small gestures grow until it’s not uncommon for them to hold hands under the table and tangle their legs together while making agreements with foreign races.

The comfort each other like that, and while they both know that it’s not just friendly, neither wants to ruin the good thing that they have going.

So they don’t acknowledge it, even when they become close enough to read each other’s minds on the battlefield and start to confide in each other.

They spend more time together than they do with anyone else, but it brings them closer than ever before.

It’s Lance who breaks first. While he can be a serious person when need be, he’s also a hopeless romantic. It hurts to have so much and yet so little with Keith.

It’s 12am earthtime (or so they think) and both boys are talking in the kitchen over Hunk’s space-modified version of hot chocolate.

“I like you! Will you go out with me?” Lance blurts out suddenly.

Lance expects Keith to offer one of those fleeting smiles, or reject him.

Instead, Keith ducks his head, and his ears turn red. (Hey that rhymed, yay me.)

“I… I really want to, Lance. We both know by now that what we have is not friendship. Not like what we have with the other paladins. But if I accepted… and then if something were to happen to you… I wouldn’t be able to live with it. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

Lance has the same worry deep in the bottomless pit of his mind, but it hurt to hear Keith say it. He tries to keep us heart intact and his tears in.

“Well, that’s too bad. Because my heart is already yours, and when we get onto earth, we are going to date LIKE NORMAL PEOPLE. Do you hear me? I’m not having my life be taken my this damned war, and I will date you like we deserve to. That’s how I know we will make it back. That’s how I know that you won’t go sacrificing yourself like you always do anymore, because if we are together then you’ll have to live. For me. So, for now, can we just be boyfriends?”

Keith stares at him long and hard. Lance can feel the anxiety and fear creeping through him as Keith keeps him trapped in that deep gaze.

“Fine. Yes. We can be… boyfriends, if you’re sure that you really want to date me.”

Lance shrieks with joy, which startles Keith, before tackling the black paladin to the ground.

“Yes! Of course I want you, and I promise this will be the best decision of your life, babe.”

Keith’s face turns a bright, blotchy red, but he’s too content in Lance’s arms to care.

#vld #voltron legendary defender #keith kogane #voltron #lance mcclain #klance #lance vld #keith vld #vld keith #tawny post

51 notes · View notes

rollercoasterwords · 6 months

Note

okay this is so random and you don't have to even reply to this but i need to rant and i LOVE your fics so why not. basically this girl and i have been friends for a little while (about a month or two) since we met in psychology class. so one day we're talking and she says she's kinda dating her other friend and i'm like really?? i didn't know that? thats cool (i'd also just found out she was a lesbian)

but then out of NOWHERE, completely left field, she goes 'but i'd rather date you instead...' i was like WHAT

and she's like yeah, why wouldn't i? and then goes on to list that i'm smart and pretty and so on. i am shocked. stunned. what. what. i'm also into girls, and i guess i kinda like her but i was brought up very religious so i have my own shit to work through before dating or even thinking about dating a girl. AND SHE PROCEEDS TO ASK ME OUT but i'm not ready to date someone and so i make it awkward by not outright saying no but THAT I WOULD THINK ABOUT IT EVEN THOUGH I KNOW THE ANSWER IS NO

we bumped into each other a couple days ago and she asks me if i've decided and i still couldn't fcking say no to her, and now our friendship is extremely awkward and i want to die every time i walk into psychology. also whenever i hear her speak in class. it's sad bc i do like her, and i'd like to be with her, but i can't. the mental strain of a secret relationship is NOT for me, seeing as neither of us are out. like i just can't. but i do kinda really like her and my heart hurts. this is what i get for reading so many angsty wlw fics isn't it😞(alice, look at me, im looking at you) any tips on how to reverse time and stop this from ever happening would be appreciated

bit late responding 2 this but 🤧 i actually had a v similar experience when i was like 16 lol & honestly my best advice is 2 just rip that band aid off….like if a relationship w her is not on the table rn it’s best 2 just be straight up & tell her instead of leaving her in limbo. sucks bc the friendship will likely change etc but unfortunately that’s just part of growing up sometimes…wishing u the best of luck w everything tho 🫡🫡

#ask

9 notes · View notes

dailyanarchistposts · 2 months

Text

Chapter 6. Revolution

How will reparations for past oppressions be worked out?

If government and capitalism disappeared overnight, people would still be divided. Legacies of oppression generally determine where we live; our access to land, water, a clean environment, and necessary infrastructure; and the level of violence and trauma in our communities. People are accorded vastly differing degrees of social privilege according to skin color, gender, citizenship, economic class, and other factors. Once the exploited of the earth rise up to seize the wealth of our society, what exactly will they inherit? Healthy land, clean water, and hospitals, or depleted soil, garbage dumps, and lead pipes? It depends largely on their skin color and nationality.

An essential part of an anarchist revolution is global solidarity. Solidarity is the polar opposite of charity. It does not depend on an inequality between giver and receiver. Like all good things in life, solidarity is shared, thus it destroys the categories of giver and receiver and neither ignores nor validates whatever unequal power dynamics may exist between the two. There can be no true solidarity between a revolutionary in Illinois and a revolutionary in Mato Grosso if they must ignore that the one’s house is built with wood stolen from the lands of the other, ruining the soil and leaving him and his entire community with fewer possibilities for the future.

Anarchy must make itself wholly incompatible with colonialism, either a colonialism that continues to the present day in new forms, or a historical legacy which we try to ignore. Thus an anarchist revolution must also base itself in the struggles against colonialism. These include people in the Global South who are trying to reverse neoliberalism, indigenous nations struggling to regain their land, and black communities still fighting to survive the legacies of slavery. Those who have been privileged by colonialism — white people and everyone living in Europe or a European settler state (the US, Canada, Australia) — should support these other struggles politically, culturally, and materially. Because anti-authoritarian rebellions have been limited in scope thus far, and meaningful reparations would have to be global in scale because of the globalization of oppression, there are no examples that fully demonstrate what reparations would look like. However, some small-scale examples show that the willingness to make reparations exists, and that the anarchist principles of mutual aid and direct action can accomplish reparations more effectively than democratic governments — with their refusal to acknowledge the extent of past crimes and their embarrassing half measures. The same goes for revolutionary governments, which typically inherit and cover up oppression within the states they take over — as exemplified by how callously the governments of the USSR and China took their places at the heads of racial empires while claiming to be anti-imperialist.

In the state of Chiapas, in southern Mexico, the Zapatistas rose up in 1994 and won autonomy for dozens of indigenous communities. Named after Mexican peasant revolutionary Zapata and espousing a mix of indigenous, Marxist, and anarchist ideas, the Zapatistas formed an army guided by popular “encuentros,” or gatherings, to fight back against neoliberal capitalism and the continuing forms of exploitation and genocide inflicted by the Mexican state. To lift these communities up out of poverty following generations of colonialism, and to help counter the effects of military blockades and harassment, the Zapatistas called for support. Thousands of volunteers and people with technical experience came from around the world to help Zapatista communities build up their infrastructure, and thousands of others continue to support the Zapatistas by sending donations of money and equipment or buying fair-trade goods[105] produced in the autonomous territory. This assistance is given in a spirit of solidarity; most importantly, it is on the Zapatista’s own terms. This contrasts starkly with the model of Christian charity, in which the goals of the privileged giver are imposed on the impoverished receiver, who is expected to be grateful.

Peasants in Spain had been oppressed throughout centuries of feudalism. The partial revolution in 1936 enabled them to reclaim the privilege and wealth their oppressors had derived from their labors. Peasant assemblies in liberated villages met to decide how to redistribute territory seized from large landowners, so those who had labored as virtual serfs could finally have access to land. Unlike the farcical Reconciliation Commissions arranged in South Africa, Guatemala, and elsewhere, which protect oppressors from any real consequences and above all preserve the unequal distribution of power and privilege that is the direct result of past oppressions, these assemblies empowered the Spanish peasants to decide for themselves how to recover their dignity and equality. Aside from redistributing land, they also took over pro-fascist churches and luxury villas to be used as community centers, storehouses, schools, and clinics. In five years of state-instituted agrarian reform, Spain’s Republican government redistributed only 876,327 hectares of land; in just a few weeks of revolution, the peasants seized 5,692,202 hectares of land for themselves.[106] This figure is even more significant considering that this redistribution was opposed by Republicans and Socialists, and could only take place in the part of the country not controlled by the fascists.

3 notes · View notes

darkestprompts · 2 years

Text

Leprosy and inner strength

Thinking about our favorite king again. Particularly this line:

"My suffering has granted me a modicum of power..."

His class description also has allusions to how the trials imposed by his decaying body have given him a special type of strength:

"He has learned to channel his energy inward, a kingdom within one man. His power can neither serve nor comfort others; but, drawing on it, he can gain strength others can but dream of, or the endurance to bear what no other could."

It's already remarkable that he did not become frail from suffering the late stages of a disease known to cause muscle weakness and nerve damage. Yet, tway it's described, Baldwin seems to have grown stronger, at least in some aspects. His class is defined by devastating blows from a massive, cumbersome weapon. His eyesight is terrible, sure, he's slow (although note that his base speed is still higher than Reynauld's!) and I suppose you could interpret his massive base HP as pain tolerance and lack of sensitivity. But beyond the physical consequences, he seems to have gained this zen-like ability to, quoth the Ancestor, perform beyond one's limits.

Ok, why is this interesting? Because, you see, Baldwin is religious. There's a common misconception that medieval Christianity only saw disease in a negative sense, probably stemming from the apocalyptic despair we see in accounts of the Black Plague. I want to make a few objections to that view.

First, epidemics can more easily be seen as a result of vague "evils of mankind" without the victims being considered culpable. Refer to common conspiracy theories, where minority groups would be blamed and suspicion could actually grow faster if they weren't affected. Secondly, despite all that talk that "the son shall not suffer for the sins of the father", the idea of an innocent suffering for another's sins isn't unusual. Think of all the parents that were thought to have been punished by losing their children. Third, and most important, "natural" evil such as diseases and disasters could be seen as punishment for the wicked, but also as trials for the good. Even Jesus was tested in the Bible!

That's all to explain that with regard to leprosy, yes, there was ostracism and sure enough it was thought of as punishment or an outward sign of moral corruption. But it was just as well seen as a test of faith to be endured with patience, or even its own kind of indirect blessing. No, really: since suffering alleviates sin, the suffering of a serious and painful disease was thought to ensure a blissful afterlife. Lepers were experiencing purgatory on Earth, and that was regarded with a sort of solemn respect.

In that sense, the leper could be considered to lead a sort of saint-like existence, enduring the decay of the body away from society like a hermit. And recall that at the time hermits were considered "white martyrs" for sequestering themselves from mundane life for spiritual reasons ("red martyrs" were ones who suffered violent deaths for their faith). This special status of leprosy as a disease was further highlighted by the way they are featured in scripture, as deserving of compassion and aid.

The hagiographic tone of Baldwin's story and the fact that he has gained superior ability through his "death to the world" fits this idea perfectly. It's only enhanced by the existence of one other class that thrives on suffering -- the Flagellant -- because it corroborates the notion that this is a setting where pain can be transformed through religious conviction. You can even make the white vs red martyr parallel, and I think that's just lovely.

#darkest dungeon #meta #dd leper #dd baldwin #thoughts #headcanons

55 notes · View notes

written-in-flowers · 2 years

Text

Uninvited: Minjoon x Reader

Pairing: Namjoon x female!Reader x Jimin

Genre: Smut, mild angst/ Au: college, fuckboi

Word Count: 7k

Rating: M (for graphic sexual content)

Summary: Namjoon and you had plans to meet, but when Jimin’s apartment shuts down, two becomes three.

Tags: bisexual!namjoon, bisexual!jimin, threesome sex, cunnilingus, fingering, vaginal sex, oral sex (m. and f. giving/receiving), protected sex, a bit of voyeurism, a hint of BDSM themes, mild angst, confused sexuality, top!namjoon, bottom!jimin, no happy ending

Disclaimer: These works are completely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. They are not meant to reflect of label the member of BTS in any way. The events within never took place.

A/N: this is the second part of my bts!fuckboi series. I don’t this one hits as hard as Yoongi’s but it’s still kinda fucked. The same warning from before applies here as well. Men aren’t nice, and neither is Namjoon.

****

Fridays are the center's slowest day. The last place a college student wanted to be was a library study hall. The computers around the lines of the walls remained empty; the more studious people worked at the tables and chairs, others got in a few last minute tutor sessions before closing time. Namjoon checked his watch. It was only a half hour until Mrs. James, the librarian, called for the ten-minute warning. The university offered the center as part of the main library. Students could take advantage of the resources they offered; sit at the tutoring tables where people like Namjoon could help with various subjects. Most of them are teacher's aides or graduate students who wanted to make a bit of extra cash. Namjoon was the latter. It came with plenty of other benefits too. He can work on his own studies but the side hustle brought him within his favorite thing in the entire world.

They were insanely hot. He couldn't believe his luck. He'd been about to pack up for the day when they approached him. One woman had a little waist, big hips, thick thighs and ample bosom. A total baddie who smiled at him. Her lighter-skinned friend stood beside her, slender and lithe with his braids tied back with an elastic band. He assumed an athlete. Both of them stood in front of his semi-circle, smiles on their faces when they saw him.

"Excuse me," said The Baddie, "Mrs. James told us you tutored for science?"

"Yeah, yeah I do," he said, calm and collected. He wasn't in high school anymore. "How can I help you?"

"My friend and I are kinda struggling with our biology class, and we were hoping-"

"-You could help us out?" her friend finished.

"Of course. No problem."

He offered them seats at his table. Namjoon figured he could stick around for a while longer to help out students. A pair of super fine students. Namjoon honestly did not know who he wanted more: The Baddie who eyed him flirtatiously when he met her eyes or The Athlete who kept his interest in him more subtle. He wasn't a fool. It'd become widely known around campus that a 'total daddy' tutored in the school library Mondays to Fridays. The stream of women (and men) who sought out his help did not escape his notice either. His job suddenly became his main hunting ground. The bars and clubs along the college strip stayed secondary locations for weekend flings.

For most of his life, Namjoon liked college students, promiscuous people with loose morals. Not high schoolers or people in graduate school. He supposed it started in middle school when he watched porn for the first time. The very first video featured a blonde coed on a bed, topless and being offered money to show off the rest of her body and more. When he grew up, he realized women weren’t his only option. He'd go to fraternity or sorority parties where he saw hotties everywhere he looked. He'd visit college cafes or cafeterias, where he'd 'casually' bump into his mark and start a conversation. He liked their young bodies, so pliable and flexible he could bend however he liked. Most importantly, they didn't know. They weren't like the women his own age who would catch onto his game right away. These young college girls saw a charming, charismatic guy with a nice build and all sense left them.

Much like with you.

Namjoon spent the rest of the library time with The Baddie and The Athlete. He kept things friendly and casual between them, never letting them know his interest no matter how obvious theirs was. Eventually, Mrs. James kicked everyone out of the library, and he offered to walk them out, moving onto more personal topics. The Baddie belonged to an all-black sorority, and The Athlete to the brother counterpart; The Baddie majored in business and The Athlete planned on going into the education field. He'd been spot on about The Athlete; he was part of the college's track-and-field team. By the time they reached the entrance, Namjoon saw himself sandwiched between the pair.

"Before we go," The Baddie said at the door, "My sorority's having a party tonight, and I was wondering if you wanted to come."

"Ah, I'm sorry, but as fun as it sounds, I actually have plans tonight." Never accept right away. "I have some friends stopping by my place tonight."

"They can come too," The Athlete said, "If they're as fine as you, then they're more than welcome to come."

He considered this. He knew his friends never said no to free beer, free food, and a buffet of hotties. But, then you came back to mind. He'd looked forward to seeing you for a while now, and if he canceled, he might lose another chance.

"Tell you what," he said, pulling out his phone, "How about you give me your number, and I'll text you?"

"Okay," she beamed.

They exchanged numbers at the table, and he watched them giggle and whisper walking away. Namjoon finished picking up and left the library for the parking lot. Getting into his car, he pulled out his phone and put in the girl's number. His thumbs paused over the contact name. He wracked his brain for a name. He'd been distracted by her cleavage and backside to really put it to memory. This often happened with his girls. Giving up, he wrote "Library Baddie". Then he began driving. As he exited the parking lot for the street, his phone rang and he saw "Jiminie" on the screen. He put it on speaker.

"Hey Jimin," he said, "I'm gonna be kinda late tonight."

"Good, because we can't hang at my place."

Namjoon groaned. He knew what this meant, "Why?"

"Gas leak."

"Again? That's like the second time."

"I know, it's weird. But my super was like 'building is closed off until further notice'," he said in a mocking deep voice. "It's so dumb, but I don't want to blow up, so we can do it at mine."

"Which means we're doing it at my place," he grumbled.

"You are next in the hosting tree," he said. "Also," Namjoon noticed the distinct drop and sultry tone that came next, "Could I maybe crash at yours tonight?"

"Jimin, I don't know. I have someone coming over." Temptation compelled him to say 'yes'; to call you and tell you not to come. He hadn't been alone with Jimin in a long time. "And, she might not be cool with someone else there."

"Oh, another one of your girls, huh?" He teased. "What's this one's name?"

"Sexy Barista."

"Her real name, Namjoon."

"Um…uh, well, you see-"

"-Wooow, you really don't remember," he laughed. "Is she really that unremarkable?"

"She's not," he said, smiling softly, "Nice ass. Nice tits. She does this thing with her tongue…woof, you need to try it."

Jimin giggled and his stomach knotted, "You mean have her try it on me or have me try it on you?"

It was this. Just when Namjoon thought he liked women, Jimin pulled out the gay in him. "What if I said both?"

"Then tell me what time she'll be there. You have a better taste in women than some of our boys."

He chuckled, "I do pick up some seriously hot ones."

"And what about me? Am I another ‘hot one’?”

"The hottest one."

He shuddered thinking of the first time he hooked up with Jimin. It'd been at a house party they'd all gone to one weekend. Namjoon didn't remember the host's name, but they had a huge house with lots of rooms. He'd been a bit drunk, a bit horny when his date disappeared on him. Thinking back, he wondered if Jimin somehow made them ditch him. But, he recalled how Jimin's petit form felt pressed against his; how the curvature of his ass pushed right into Namjoon's cock. He’d never slept with a man before then; he’d experimented a few times, but they never went past kissing and hands. But, having Jimin so close to him, he’d wanted more than hands and lips. All the women in the house looked the same, while Jimin glowed and stood out in the crowd. He had an alluring charm that blinded him to anyone else. Namjoon forgot all about the sea of women in the house; he only wanted Jimin.

“When do you think you’ll be here?” Namjoon asked, turning into his building’s parking lot, and parked in his usual spot. “Sexy Barista should be here soon.”

“Oh, and you mean you don’t want me to walk in on you both and join in? I don’t see why she’d say no.”

“Fuck, Jimin…” he breathed out. “I’m not even in my apartment yet.”

Jimin laughed. He loved torturing him before they slept together. “I’m actually already here.”

“What?” he looked around the parking lot as he stepped out, searching for the short, black-haired man. “Where?”

“Outside your apartment. I thought you’d left the center early since it’s Friday.”

Why did this make him move faster? “I had some last minute students come up, so I helped them out before leaving.”

“Anyone worth talking about?”

“Eh, not really.” Were it any of his other friends, he’d be blabbing about Baddie and Athlete. But, for some reason, he didn’t want to tell Jimin. Suddenly, neither of them seemed as good. “They were alright,” he said, reaching the elevator and pressing his floor. “What about you? How’re things with that Kayla chick?”

“Bad,” he sighed, “She got fired.”

“No shit?”

“No, my boss said he was tired of her asking for days off every week and her being late to her shifts. I tried talking him out of it, saying he could just put her on early shifts instead, but he wasn’t going for it,” he said. “So, no more Kayla pussy for me.”

“She looked hot,” he replied, “Sorry, dude.”

“It’s okay. There’s this new guy that started last night. Super hot; has this uber twink look going on,” he said. He hesitated, “Definitely your type.”

Namjoon’s cheeks turned hot, “Eh, I don’t think so. I’m pickier with guys.”

“I figured as much,” he said, “Kinda hard to find other guys hot when you’ve fucked me before.”

“Park Jimin…you’re asking for trouble with all that talk. I have a lady friend coming over, and I don’t think she’d like having to compete for me against you.”

“Why? Because there’d be no contest?”

“No, I just don’t want her to feel bad about herself when she sees you.”

He walked onto his floor and spotted a familiar figure by his door. Namjoon hung up the phone, and headed over to Jimin. He wore a black hoodie over a large shirt and gray shorts; half his long hair tied back from his face, since he hadn’t cut it yet, and his face was free of his usual makeup. At his feet, he had grocery bags as well as a duffle bag with his belongings in it. Jimin must’ve known he wouldn’t be prepared for the sudden get-together, and Namjoon appreciated it. He looked beautiful, Namjoon thought. Dark eyes stared up at him coyly, and he stood up from the doorframe he’d been leaning against. Namjoon considered kissing him, pushing him to the door and sinking his hand down Jimin’s shorts. He’d started it after all. But, you were coming soon, and he needed to prepare the apartment for you.

The pair entered the apartment and Jimin began setting out the groceries in the living room. Namjoon noticed the lime tortilla chips he’d become addicted to and the case of Kloud draft beer; popcorn, chocolate snacks, and other alcoholic drinks followed. He personally ordered food, but Jimin was a natural party host. While Jimin set the party up, Namjoon went into his bedroom. He made sure he’d stocked up on feminine products for you to use, hand towels on the side, condoms and lubricants, and if he’d changed the waterproof sheets on his bed. He even sneakily checked the container of sex toys he kept on hand, and the restraints he kept hidden at the corners of the bed. He didn’t expect you to be a kinky sex kitten, but it never hurt to have things on hand for you.

“Still have that collection?” Jimin asked from the doorway.

“Some people like fooling around with toys,” he shrugged, “I like to keep things…interesting…hold up…” he rifled through the container, and noticed something missing. “The dildo I had in here is missing.”

“You mean this one?”

From behind his back, Jimin pulled the aquamarine dildo mold Namjoon made on a dare. Hoseok had bought him a dildo-maker for his birthday as a gag-gift, and Namjoon made it according to the instructions. It held surprisingly well, and many women liked using it when he wanted to stretch them open. He then remembered Jimin and him using it the last time they had sex. Jimin must’ve swiped it when Namjoon wasn’t paying attention. Namjoon stood up, smiling at his mischief, and reached out his hand.

“Come on, give it back, you little thief,” he teased.

“I think you need to apologize to the people I’ve been having sex with recently. They have a lot of competition with you.”

“Not my fault they’re subpar lovers,” he shrugged. “Now, give it back.”

“No,” Jimin pointedly put the thick head on the flat of his tongue, “I like it. I’ve had a lot of fun with it.” He swirled his tongue over it while Namjoon watched, “I like sitting on it when I jerk off…I like thinking it’s you fucking me.”

“Jimin…”

“Can I keep it, Namjoonie?” he pouted, giving it kitten licks and sucking it. “Please?”

Namjoon walked closer, and took the toy from him. He held the tip to Jimin’s lips, pushing it into his mouth as he backed him into the wall. “How about you earn it instead?” he breathed, keeping eye contact while Jimin sucked on the fake cock. “Be a good slut for me, and I’ll let you keep it.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“What about your little lady friend?” he whispered, “I don’t know if she’d like to share you with me.”

“You can watch,” he stuck the toy further into Jimin’s mouth, “With this in your ass.” He removed it, put an arm around Jimin’s waist and took him to the bed. All the blood in his body rushed to his crotch as Jimin rested on his bed, already unzipping his jacket. Namjoon immediately reached for him, hands roaming his body and grinding into his hips. “I can put those clamps on you again,” he muttered between kissing, Jimin’s hot mouth making him groan, “And that little head teaser too.”

“Namjoonie,” Jimin giggled, “Such a horny boy.”

“That’s what you do to me,” he said in a low voice. He pressed his semi-hardness into Jimin, “This,” he growled, “Is what you do to me.”

He’d been about to tug down Jimin’s shorts when the doorbell sounded through the house. You were here. Jimin gave a soft whine, and pulled the waistband of Namjoon’s cargo shorts. “Tell her to fuck off,” he said, “I’m the one who got you hard. I should get to have it.”

Namjoon chuckled, “Greedy.”

He pecked Jimin’s lips and slid off the bed. A plan formulated in his mind as he adjusted his pants to hide his boner. Maybe you’d see it and like it. Jimin remained in the bedroom, since he didn’t follow Namjoon. Namjoon took a deep breath, then opened the door.

You looked as hot as the day you’d both met. Wearing a striped t-shirt with a deep v-neck, he had a perfect view of them from his height. Your shorts went to the middle of your thighs, and it made him even harder. He’d first seen you in the campus cafe where he’d go before his morning classes; there you wore all black with a green apron over your outfits. But, you’d gotten his attention with your smile and kindness. Over the times he visited, he learned you were an English major, working your way through college like so many others. You had a dorm on campus, and you liked reading, writing, pop music, and fantasy and science fiction films. Namjoon knew with a few more visits, he’d snag a date with you, which he did when you bravely slipped him your phone number. You’d both gone out to the fundraiser fair on the campus grounds, where you rode rides, ate cotton candy, and had a generally good time. He drove you home, and you offered him inside for a drink. That’s when he banged your brains out for most of the night before slipping away the next morning.

He decided to keep you around a bit longer than most.

“Hey,” he smiled when you arrived, “You’re…here. Come in.” He let you inside, “How’re you doing?”

“Pretty good,” you replied, “Better now that I’m seeing you.” You both walked further into the apartment where you spotted the snacks and drinks on the counter top. “Having a party?”

“Later on, yeah,” he said. “We were originally having it at my friend’s place, but his apartment got shut down from a gas leak, so I’m next in the party tree.”

“Party tree?” you asked, putting your stuff down.

“My friends and I have sort of a ‘guy’s night’ every weekend, and we rotate who hosts. I’m sorry,” he went into the fridge where Jimin put the beers, “It was sorta last minute. I was gonna call you, but I-”

“-Got distracted.”

Jimin came out of the bedroom. Namjoon saw that mischievous look in his eyes again. “Namjoon can be a bit forgetful, and if there’s too much going on, he loses track of stuff.” He looked over at you, “I’m Jimin,” he stuck out his hand, “Namjoon’s friend.”

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you said, shaking hands with him. He noticed your apprehensive look between them both, “If I’m interrupting, I can come back another time.”

“No, no, it’s not a big deal,” Namjoon said, pulling out three beer cans to put on the counter. “It won’t be for a while anyways. Jimin’s the one whose apartment got shut down, so he’s crashing here with me until it’s okay to go back inside.”

“And besides,” Jimin took one of them from him, and cracked it open for a sip, “We all know why you’re here.”

“Um,” you laughed nervously, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You mean, you bring a hoe-bag wherever you go?” Jimin asked curiously. “Oh, honey, there’s no shame. We all do it.” He handed you a beer, “I don’t mind leaving for a bit while you guys go at it. I can see what Tae or Kook are up to-”

“-You don’t have to go,” you said. “I don’t mind. I just like knowing before I show up, is all.”

“Of course,” he agreed. “I really did spring this on Joon last minute, and we got caught up coming up with sleeping arrangements, so he forgot to text you.”

“Yeah, that's it,” Namjoon opened his beer and took a gulp. He’d hoped the cool drink might settle his hot cheeks, but they didn’t. He kept thinking back to Jimin with his dick mold, and what they’d be doing if you hadn’t arrived. But, seeing you standing next to Jimin, he couldn’t help imagining both of you using his toys. “Again, super sorry. Will you at least stay and hang for a bit? My friends won’t mind you being here…trust me.”

Especially Hoseok, who wouldn’t hesitate to flirt if he saw you.

“Sure,” you grinned, going to the living room and opening your beer, “I wouldn’t want to waste the time I did coming here…”

“Which would be a shame,” Jimin added, sitting there next to you.

Namjoon watched you and Jimin go to a couch while he grabbed snacks. His fingers felt numb as he opened a bag of chips. His cock grew harder thinking of your tits in Jimin’s hands, his smaller digits squeezing and sucking while Namjoon pounded inside you. You’d be such a pretty picture, and so would Jimin. He came over to the living room, holding a bowl of chips and took another drink of his beer. You and Jimin appeared to be in conversation already, his eyes looking at you as if he’d never seen anything like you before.

“-I’m a dance teacher for little kids part time,” he said.

“Aw, that’s so cute,” you said, cradling your beer into your lap. “How old?”

“Three to five-year-olds mostly, but this year I have a teenager class too since one of our teachers retired a bit suddenly,” he leaned in and whispered, “Drinking problem. A lot of parents complained.”

“Jesus, I can imagine they did. So, they came to class drunk?”

“Not drunk, but seriously hung over. They also sometimes didn’t come at all, and one of the other teachers had to pick up their classes. Our director got tired of it, but since they’ve been there so long, he offered them retirement instead. I said they should just have fired her, since she made our school look bad, but I guess being friends with the director’s wife gets you special privileges.”

“Psh, it’s like that everywhere now. All these boomers are always looking out for each other.”

“Totally.”

Half a lie. Jimin worked as a full time bar manager at Euphoria, a nightclub in the center of the city. He often lied to partners about where he worked to seem more interesting to them. It amazed Namjoon how he came up with stories off the top of his head, and all sounded believable. Recently, he's taken to telling people he worked part-time at a dance studio, so should they visit Euphoria and see him, he can say it's his other job. A hardworking guy with two jobs? People liked that in a person. Namjoon knew the truth, however. Jimin planned on having his own night club one day. He liked entertaining people. The get-togethers at Jimin's house always topped the others'. He'd host most often if his job allowed him the time. He'd buy enough food and drinks; movies and games he knew everyone liked, and kept things flowing. Him owning a club made sense.

"What about you?" Jimin asked you, "What do you do?"

"I'm working at the university coffee shop," you answered. "It's actually where Namjoon and I met." You smiled over at him, "He's a regular there."

"Aw, how cute," Jimin awed. "Yeah, Namjoon needs his iced americano in the morning or he's the crankiest dude ever."

"I am not," Namjoon smiled embarrassed. "I'm not."

"I've noticed it, trust me," you told Jimin. "I remember him snapping at a lady who'd cut in front of him to make a big order."

"She walked up to the front of the line like she owned the place!" Namjoon reasoned. "She had these little demon children walking behind her, and they had the same attitude!"

"She told me they were in a hurry," you continued, drinking from your can, "Because they were heading to the airport, and I told her that she had to get in the back of the line because everyone else was there before her. She said that those people didn't have kids, and that they'd understand. And then, Namjoon said," your laughter cut in the middle of your sentence, "Namjoon said, 'Hey, it's not our fault you decided to open your legs and have a bunch of crotch goblins!'."

"Yep, yep, that sounds like Joon," Jimin chuckled, nodding and looking at him. "He can be a dick."

"I was hungover," he said, "And this bitch and her little hellions were holding up the line. It'd been the night after my birthday party."

Namjoon shared a knowing look with Jimin, who nodded. "The one where Hoseok got you that dildo-making kit?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"Dildo-making kit?" your eyes went wide, and you turned to him, "You have a dildo-making kit?"

"Had," he corrected. "One of my friends bought it for me as a joke present. When we were playing truth or dare, he dared me to go into the bathroom and use it."

"Do you still have it?"

"He does," Jimin answered with a wicked grin, "He keeps it in his little toy box for special occasions."

"How do you know?"

"I found it once," he winked at Namjoon. Namjoon recalled exactly what Jimin had done when he first discovered the toy: He laid on Namjoon's bed, and slowly used it on himself with Namjoon watching.

"Dare you to go find it," you whispered conspiratorially.

"Ah, come on, you guys-"

"-Dare," Jimin said, finishing his beer and leaving the living room.

Once he'd left, you slid closer to Namjoon. You put your hand on his thigh, rubbing your finger on the hem of his shorts. His body heated up again at the delicate touch. "You two seem to be close," you commented.

"Me and Jimin? Yeah, we've known each other since high school. My friends and I all grew up in the same neighborhood, so we all went to the same school," he said, "And we all built this really close knitted bond. It's carried on since then."

"That's so sweet," you said, tracing a circle pattern on his knee. He put his arm on the back of the couch so you came closer. "But, I meant 'close-close'. He's been checking you out when he thinks I'm not paying attention."

"I don't know what you mean," he said, "Jimin and I are only friends. We've never...done anything like that before."

"You don't have to lie," you smiled, your hand going further up his thigh. "I saw your boner when I came in."

He coughed and shifted once your hand landed on his groin. He stared down to see you gently running your fingers over his zipper. "Did Jimin do that or do I really have that effect on you?" you asked him in a low voice.

"It's you, baby," he said in your ear, hand resting on your shoulder. "That's all you and those naughty pictures you sent me this morning. I was looking at them before Jimin showed up, and I knew he'd never shut up about it if he caught me jerking off." He put his own hand between your thighs, his fingers on your inner thigh, "But, no, baby, that's all you right there."

To keep you from responding, Namjoon brought your lips to him and kissed you. He kept it deep and slow. He brushed his tongue over yours and groaned softly when you sunk your hand over his cock and balls. He turned his body towards you, and gradually felt up your thighs to your shorts. He groaned again when your heat touched his fingers. Through the denim fabric, he traced the inner seam going right over your sex. The thickness of it bothered him. It kept you from him. Jimin usually wore thinner, lighter clothes when he came over. Namjoon continued kissing you as he left your pussy for your breasts, which almost asked him to take them out. The neckline of your shirt skewed slightly to the side to show off your bra, a lavender color that teased him. He kissed down your lips to your neck, where he sucked gently as he grabbed one of your breasts. They were like he remembered, supple and perfect in his hand. Like the rest of your body was.

"Well, you two start off hot and heavy, huh?"

You stopped when Jimin reappeared, holding the long dildo in his hand. Namjoon remembered him sucking and licking the toy not long ago, his petal lips around the tip. His tip.

"Do you blame me?" he asked, "I mean...look at her." He gave you another neck kiss that made you giggle, "She's so damn hot."

"She is."

"Is that the dick mold?" you bursted out laughing.

"Yep," Jimin came back to the couch, handing it to you. Namjoon watched you examine the thickness and length, aroused simply watching you handle it. "Big, huh?"

"It's definitely an accurate replica," you gave him a shifty look as you ran your hand over the shaft, "I can see a girl having a very good time with this."

"Why have that when you got the real thing right here?" he challenged, putting your hand back on his dick. He captured your lips again for another kiss, but peeked over at Jimin, who watched biting his lip. He made sure the petite brunette saw your tongues slide against one another; that he could see Namjoon's bulge as well as your chest. "Do you mind?" he asked Jimin, pretending to be annoyed.

"Not at all," he replied. "I like watching."

"You do, huh? Is that something you guys all do in your little friend circle?" you said, "Watch each other fuck?"

"Not all of us," Jimin's eyes never let Namjoon's. To him, you might as well not even be there. "Just Namjoon and I."

"’We’ve never done anything like that’," you mocked Namjoon's deep voice and then giggled. "I bet you've done more than watch too."

"Again," Jimin said, "Only us two. Taehyung and Hoseok are mostly straight, but sadly Jin, Jungkook and Yoongi are strictly for the ladies. That just leaves Namjoonie and me," he glanced down at Namjoon's body and back up.

"So, that's how he knew where this was," you laughed, wiggling the toy beside you. "I knew it. I totally got those vibes off of you when we met."

Sure, you did. If you picked up on 'vibes', you'd known what he was up to from the beginning. He let it slide and continued feeling up your chest, "I might like it every so often," he said, pecking your lips, "But nothing beats you."

"Oh yeah?"

You two kissed and then you started a trail from his lips, to his jaw, then his neck. His eyes met Jimin's, and he detected a bit of discontent there. Jimin's eyes glanced over to you, completely oblivious to the exchange, and then back at him. Namjoon wiggled his eyebrows and smirked, looking down at Jimin's body, then shifting his eyes to you at his neck. He crossed his arms defiantly, but a pout made Jimin shrugged defeatedly and slide closer. His lips met Namjoon's first. They started with a few soft pecks, and then the kiss deepened. Jimin's tongue explored his once more; the sensation stoked the flames deep in his gut while your hand continued massaging his crotch. You clearly noticed the two men kissing, and joined them. Jimin eventually turned him away so both of you kissed in front of him. He watched Jimin's lips caress against yours, gasping when you showed your tongues to him. He reached out for Jimin's chest, feeling through the thin fabric for the hard nipples and hearing Jimin whimper into your mouth. He immediately pulled away back to you, cupping and grabbing both your breasts and burying his face into your neck as you made out with Jimin.

"If your tits are so great," Jimin whispered, "Then I need to see what all the fuss is about."

Jimin hooked his fingers on your neckline and slowly pulled it down underneath your bra. Namjoon looked on as your bra followed, and Jimin's mouth opened at the sight of it. You whimpered as he slid his tongue over the very middle of your nipple. Namjoon did the same to the other side and gave a low groan as he latched his mouth on your nipple. Both of them continued sucking and teasing your breasts while two hands sailed down your body. Namjoon felt your grip on him tighten when his hand reached between your thighs again. Jimin's fingers fumbled with your button and zipper, while Namjoon simply rubbed the center where you're most sensitive.

"These are nice," Jimin said, kissing up your chest to your lips, "I get why he talked about them so much. I could play with these for hours too."

"And I wouldn't complain either."

He finished undoing your shorts, and Namjoon slid them down your body. Your lower half now exposed, both men felt your hot center. Namjoon's fingers slid over one side of your pussy, tracing the folds over your panties and occasionally brushing the clitorios underneath. Jimin massaged his on the other half, doing the same and even dipping further towards your entrance. Each man pinned a thigh to his lap and kept you spread as they bent down to inspect you. Namjoon threaded your panties through your slit, and Jimin began licking the exposed lips. You moaned and touched your breasts as his tongue slid up and down them, tasting the juices starting to seep through your underwear. Namjoon watched him. He watched his tongue, hot and pink, slip over where your panties hid your clit and flick it rapidly. It reminded him of whenever Jimin licked the underside of his cock. He groaned imagining Jimin's warm mouth on him again. Namjoon spread the lips apart, leaving your clitorius vulnerable to Jimin's invading tongue. Your panties still kept him from truly feeling you. Soon, Namjoon pulled the fabric aside and Jimin's mouth encompassed your pulsing pussy. Namjoon groaned, watching his tongue circle around your clit and lap at the space underneath it. The obscene suction sounds that came from him made him recall the time Jimin gave him a rimjob.

"Want to watch me eat her pussy?" he asked, kissing him. He could taste your slickness on Jimin's lips, and he licked every bit he found. "I know you like watching that.”

“Mm, please, do.”

Namjoon got to his knees in front of you, and dove right in. Your moans sounded throughout the room as his tongue continued the same torturous motions Jimin used. He purposefully moaned straight inside you to see your reactions to the vibrations, and it was beautiful. Jimin sat beside you, teasing your breast with his hand as he observed. Namjoon met his eyes as he pointedly spread the lips and attacked your clit with his tongue.

"Come down here," Namjoon moaned, swiping his tongue over it, "And eat her out with me."

Jimin moved down your body, keeping your thigh in hand, as he took the top half of your pussy. Namjoon lifted his hand to Jimin's lap, feeling a hardon through the shorts, and sunk in through the wide leg hole. Jimin moaned against your pussy as Namjoon began stroking him slowly. He went back to lapping at the flood of slick coming from you, teasing it back into your hole every so often. They both swirled their tongues over you, taking turns to flick at your clit and dip inside. Namjoon concentrated on the hard cock throbbing in his hand. He imagined the fun he could be having alone with it; the toys he could use to tease Jimin until he's begging to cum. He might do that once you leave. Jimin was right. Namjoon loved cock and ass. He loved Jimin's cock and ass. He swirled his thumb over the tip every time, which drove Jimin to whimper weakly into you.

“Namjoonie…”

“Keep licking,” Namjoon ordered him, “You look so pretty eating pussy. I don’t want you to stop, and neither does our special playmate.”

“Oh no, please don’t stop,” you moaned, pushing into Jimin’s mouth. “Please.”

“See? She wants you to keep going,” Namjoon said, picking up speed with Jimin, “You don’t want to upset her, do you?” he leaned into Jimin’s ear, whispering, “Or me?”

“No, sir,” he whined.

He looked up at you, and smiled. You were completely lost in your pleasure. You didn’t appear to care who ate you out, as long as someone did. Namjoon then slid two fingers inside you, jaw dropping at the walls immediately hugging his fingers. He kept a slow pace, ending each pump with a curl of his fingers while Jimin continued sucking your pussy. This new sensation caused you to start shuddering and eagerly grinding into their faces. Namjoon held you firmly against the couch and joined Jimin’s tongue in swirling. Both men occasionally broke away to kiss, making sure you saw them swab your juices between their mouths before returning to you. Your pussy clenched up around Namjoon’s fingers, which scissored to further stretch you. You were a vision of ecstasy and lust. He knew you’d do just about anything for that orgasm; you proved it the first time you had sex with him. He leaned back to see your body so vulnerable to them; you did nothing to fight them off as they took you closer and closer to your climax. He looked over to Jimin, who now had a wet spot on his gray pants from Namjoon’s hand pumping him. He reached for the waistband and tugged them down, Jimin sitting up only to help him remove them entirely.

“Fuck, damnit, Jimin,” Namjoon moaned, seeing his erect penis standing and leaking, “Why does it always look so good?”

He didn’t hesitate. He took the dripping head in his mouth and sucked the precum off. He continued pumping his fingers inside at the same speed. A stream of groans came from Jimin as he leaned back on the couch, giving Namjoon more space to bury his head in his lap. He loved the feeling of Jimin’s cock pushing on his tongue and sliding into his throat. He loved his nose reaching the pelvis, and sinking against Jimin’s skin, which he kept trimmed and neat. He enjoyed the soft prod Jimin’s tip gave his uvula every time he moved too far in, almost choking before pulling him out. He gave a few good sucks before returning to you, panting and worried you’d been forgotten. Namjoon eased this worry by switching motions: he fingered and licked you, while jerking Jimin off. Soon enough, you quaked and shuddered beside Jimin.

“Are you gonna cum?” Jimin asked, immediately coming to your side and kissing you. “Is our pretty slut going to cum for us?”

“Yes,” you mumbled. Your moans grew higher as Jimin suckled your breasts, adding a pinch to the sensations Namjoon stirred below. “Yes, oh God, yes…”

You came into Namjoon’s mouth in a dizzy haze. You clutched Jimin’s arm and the couch cushion beneath you as Namjoon held you close to his face. He greedily swallowed the flow into his mouth. When the last breaths of your orgasm died away, he kissed up your stomach to your lips, then spoke softly:

“Let’s go to my room. I have everything we’ll need for the next part in there.”

They took you into the bedroom, where they both finished undressing. However, as you laid on the bed, breathless and panting, the two men crashed into one another. Hungrily kissing, Namjoon’s hands fell down Jimin’s body to his ass, which he gave a hard spank and gripped. Jimin went up Namjoon’s arms, gripping the flexed muscles until he reached his broad shoulders. He pushed himself into the long member standing against Namjoon’s stomach, and gently started stroking again.

“Look what I brought,” Jimin showed off the toy he’d swiped from the living room. “Can I play with it while you fuck her…sir?”

He let the word ‘Sir’ drip with seduction. “I can wear the clamps and the cover too,” he continued stroking and kissing Namjoon, “I’ve thought of playing with it all day.”

“The lube’s in the drawer.”

He watched Jimin go to the drawer for the necessities, then went to you. “Looks like you’re getting the audience you wanted,” he sneered, crawling back over you and between your legs.

“I’ve never done this before,” you said, pushing your pussy up against him. He could feel your wetness before he even sank inside. Looking down, he saw himself sliding over it as if being polished. “You know, two people before?”

“I should’ve asked if it was okay, my bad,” he said. “If it’s not, I really could tell Jimin you’re not cool with it.” Although, if Namjoon would send anyone away, it’d be you.

“Or we could just, you know, stop now,” Jimin suggested, getting onto the bed and handing Namjoon a condom.

“No, I don’t want to stop,” you pulled Namjoon down to kiss you, which he did fully. “I want both of you.”

“And you’ll get both, baby. Let me just get Jimin ready, okay?”

He moved over to Jimin. Once their bodies touched again, Namjoon feared he’d never go back to you. “How about we start off simple this time?” He said, “For our special friend.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Unlike you, Jimin did not require tons of preparation. Namjoon took the lubricant from the drawer nearby and rolled Jimin over. He grabbed one of Jimin's round, soft cheeks and kneaded it with his palm. He pinched and spanked each side once or twice just to see it jiggle in front of him. Jimin spread out next to you, you watched as Namjoon squirted lubricant over the tight hole. Jimin mewled at the fingers slowly circling his entrance, but stayed perfectly still. His hands gripped the pillow as he felt two digits slide inside, a long groan following. Namjoon loved watching him come undone. He loved seeing that cocky, smug expression contorted with pleasure Namjoon can give or deny. Jimin’s ass clenched around his fingers and pulled them in deeper, which Namjoon had to refrain from doing. He knew with a few good pumps in the right spot, Jimin would shudder and shake all over. Then, his lovely throbbing cock would twitch and spray cum everywhere, leaving Namjoon without.

“I want your cock,” Jimin whined, forcing himself to remain stiff like Namjoon always wants. “Please…”

Namjoon glanced over at you, and found you slowly touching your center again. He knew he should give it to you a little before sending you off; it was only fair, since that’s what you came for. But, Jimin looked so good laying in his bed, ass presented and ready to be filled by him.

“You’ll have it soon,” Namjoon said, “But for now, be a good boy and keep this in here.”

Jimin grunted, but it was quickly cut off by the full force of the toy inside him. Angling his body sideways, he reached down behind himself and continued pushing the toy deep. Namjoon stared at where the bright colored dildo met Jimin’s ass. He saw the way his hole stretched around it, much like with his fingers, and swallowed it. Namjoon absentmindedly tore open a condom wrapper, rolled it on, and slipped into you. He heard you cry out softly, and instantly regretted the sudden plunge. He mumbled a slew of apologies before making subtle movements into you. His cock throbbed inside you, and forced himself to gaze at you while Jimin’s moans reached his ears. He let his thumb work on your swollen clitoris once he began moving faster. The hard nub easily rolled around his thumbpad every time he touched it, brushing up underneath and over whenever your bodies met. Your dripping sex made the clear condom glisten on his cock. He didn’t need one when he fucked Jimin. They both tested regularly, and kept themselves clean. Jimin didn’t care if Namjoon busted inside him, because nothing came from it…except the satisfaction of watching it leak out.

When your eyes fell shut, and your head tilted back, he knew he’d hit the right spot again. Namjoon almost chased it down. He glanced over to Jimin, who’d kept the same gradual pace. He saw Jimin’s chest and stomach tensing each time the toy pressed deep inside; he saw redness flushing up his cheeks and neck. Pink lips hung open in each breathy moan; dark brown eyes begged for him to come across the bed. Namjoon lifted your hips and pounded into a different angle, causing your orgasm to come early.

Under different circumstances, Namjoon might’ve tried holding off your climax. He’d stop, shush you softly, and let it sink back down before resuming his pace. He’d have you in different positions: letting you ride out an orgasm on top, pinning you down by your hips in doggystyle, holding you close and caressing you on your sides, and bending you into a curve and sliding into you while you watched. The box under his bed would not go unused either. He’d find other places to take you before sending you home. He’d relay the story to his friends afterwards, all of them eager for details and photos he might have of you (and he’d have them). But right now, as you stayed contorted and satiated from his efforts, his mind instantly moved to Jimin.

“Come here, you.”

He’d begun kissing Jimin deeply, his hand replacing Jimin’s and keeping the toy’s languid pace. “Hard or soft?” he asked Jimin, kissing across his cheek to his ear, “I’ll let you pick.”

“I want it ha-”

“Ugh, whatever,” you scoffed.

You slid off the bed, and stood beside them. “You know,” you said to Namjoon, “If you preferred guys, you should just fuck guys instead of messing around with people’s feelings.”

“Hey, that doesn’t mean I don’t like you,” he insisted, reaching out for you before you pulled away. “I think you’re great, and really hot. This is just how threesomes work. I can’t leave Jimin high and dry.”

“Then what’s her name, Namjoon?” asked Jimin. Namjoon sensed the coldness in his tone, “If she’s so great and so hot, what’s her name?”

“She knows what her name is,” Namjoon laughed softly. “She doesn’t…need me to tell her…”

You gasped, eyes wide in realization, “You don’t remember my fucking name, do you?!”

“Oh, he knew at one point,” Jimin intervened, “But then he forgets. Like I said, forgetful guy. He’d forget his head if it wasn’t on his shoulders.”

“Jimin!”

“You’re ‘Sexy Barista’ on his phone-”

Namjoon gave a hard spank to his ass, but Jimin only giggled at his and your pain. “Look, who cares about names, anyways? I think nicknames are cuter,” he immediately excused, “You can be Sweet Pe-”

“-Fuck you, Namjoon!” you shouted, smacking him across the face. “Don’t ever call me again.”

You muttered a very unforgivable slur, and stalked out of the room. “You should’ve put her name as ‘Slutty Bitch Hoe-Bag Cunt Twat Stupid as Fuck Whore Face Shit-”

“-That’s enough, Jimin.”

Namjoon heard you walking about the living room, most likely finding your clothes and getting dressed. He supposed that was the end of his fun time with you. He turned back to see Jimin no longer using the toy, but rather holding it in his hand. Namjoon saw the annoyed look on Jimin’s face, and frowned. He crawled back over to him, cupped his cheek, and kissed him softly. Perhaps he did like men more. He knew he liked Jimin. He didn’t stop him as Jimin rolled him onto his back and mounted him, sliding the stiff member inside him easily. The quick motion caused both of them to moan in unison. Namjoon was compelled to push up into him, but he maintained restraint.

“I’m going,” Jimin breathed, rocking his hips back and forth, “To make you cum harder, longer, and more times than that little skank ever could. You stay there and watch.”

“Yes, sir,” Namjoon laughed through a moan, hands up against the headboard.

And Jimin began to prove exactly why Namjoon should give up on stupid college girls.

#btswritersclub #park jimin #kim namjoon #bts #bts smut #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts jimin #bts rm #bts namjoon #jimin x reader x namjoon #namjoon x reader

65 notes · View notes