#they would be like go to bed and don't you dare eavesdrop this shit or we'll lock you in the fucking bathroom for a week

[mysticalrobinthings]

just a dump of sportarobbie

Sportacus: If I may interject... Robbie: Oh, awesome, Sportacus was eavesdropping.

Sportacus: *lying down and crying* Robbie: There, there. Why don’t you take some time off to not be around me while you’re like this?

Robbie: The universe is cold and unfeeling. The only constant is chaos. Sportacus: Was that place out of chocolate-chip pancakes again?

Sportacus, putting their hands over Robbie's eyes: Guess who! Robbie: It's either Sportacus or the cold, clammy hands of death. Sportacus, putting their hands away: It's Sportacus! Robbie: Dammit.

Robbie: I printed up a bunch of fake safety inspection certificates. Go slap one on anything that looks like a lawsuit. Sportacus: Robbie, is that legal? Robbie: When the cops aren’t around, anything’s legal!

Sportacus: When I said bring me something back from the beach I meant like a conch shell! Robbie: *Struggling to hold a seagull* Fucking say that next time!

Sportacus: You need to stop swearing so much. Robbie: Shut the fuck up. Sportacus: Yeah, that's not how you do it. Robbie: Alright sorry. It's just that it's hard not to swear. The words just creep up on me when I least expect it. Sportacus: Now now, don't be like that. Just replace the swear words with 'beep' and you'll be fine. Robbie: Shit the beep up. Sportacus: Robbie: SHUT, DAMMIT! I MEANT SHUT!

Robbie: You’re giving me a sticker? Sportacus: Not just a sticker. That is a sticker of a kitty saying “me-wow!” Robbie: I’m not a preschooler. Sportacus: Fine, I’ll take it back- Robbie: I earned this, back off!

Robbie: This bloodline ends with me. Sportacus: That's the fanciest way I've ever heard someone say "I'm gay".

Sportacus: You ever get so tired that you start seeing spiders? Robbie: Me after I take 17 Benadryl and start seeing the hat man. Sportacus: THE WHO? Robbie: Oh is this not a safe space suddenly?

Sportacus: We have fun, don’t we, Robbie? Robbie: I have never been more stressed out in my entire life.

Robbie: Why would you think any of this was a good idea? Sportacus: Probably because I’m a dangerous sociopath with a long history of violence. Robbie: Sportacus: I don’t know how you keep forgetting this.

Robbie, sweating: Sportacus, there’s something I need to ask you- Sportacus: Finally! You’re proposing! Robbie: How’d you know? Sportacus: Robbie, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner. Sportacus: I even picked it up once.

Sportacus: As top in this relationship, I think we should- Robbie: I can't believe you're pulling rank on me.

Sportacus: *angrily presses Robbie against a wall* WHERE'S THE MONEY?! Robbie: ... Robbie: Are we about to kiss-

Robbie: Sportacus, you do remember when we agreed we were better off as friends, right? Sportacus, naked in Robbie's bed: No, I absolutely do not. Robbie, already taking off their clothes: Fuck... Me neither.

Sportacus: Okay, truth or dare? Robbie: Truth Sportacus: How many hours have you slept this week? Robbie: Robbie: ...Dare Sportacus: Go to bed. Robbie: I don’t like this game.

*Sportacus and Robbie skipping stones on lake* Sportacus: It’s such a beautiful evening. Robbie, whispering: Take that you fucking lake

Sportacus: Violence isn't the answer. Robbie: You’re right. Sportacus: *sighs in relief* Robbie: Violence is the question. Sportacus: What? Robbie, bolting away: And the answer is yes. Sportacus, running after them: NO-

Sportacus: Okay. I get it. You've had a really hard time lately, you're stressed out, seven people died- Robbie: Twelve, actually. Sportacus: Not the point. Look, they're dead now and really whose fault is that? Robbie: Yours! Sportacus: That's right: no one's.

#sportarobbie #sportacus #lazytown #robbie rotten #an elf and a fae #incorrect quotes #GIVE ME EVIL SPORTACUS PLEASE #sportacus isnt innocent #change my fucking mind

[bettyweir]

Betty Weir

Chapters 1-2

Can Betty keep up with her new life of cheerleading, cross-dressing, pizza delivering and vampire hunting?

Word Count: 1.9k

[Read on Ao3?] [Next]

Chapter 1.

Benny stops dead in his tracks, staring at the freshly pinned poster, reading “Cheer Tryouts, Tuesday after school!”

Vivid memories flood back to when he dressed up with Ethan as Betty and Veronica. Ethan never wanted to pick up a pom pom again after facing down Stephanie but Benny? Benny could only linger in the feelings of having so much fun as a cheerleader.

He quickly rips the poster off the bulletin board, a couple people eye him.

“Ha, cheerleaders are so stupid right. Ahah.” he crumples it up trying to act like he doesn’t care and catches up with Ethan.

–Later that night–

Benny is sitting alone at Ethan’s house. Ethan’s fast asleep in bed behind him. He’s copying over E’s homework. He gets distracted midway though the Media Studies questions, as he often does, and thinks about that poster…

He digs through his messy backpack and pulls it out. Stating the same simple message as It did last time.

Cheer tryouts, tomorrow. After school.

He gets up and starts going though Ethan’s closet.

It’s endless, messy and kinda gross.

Ethan would always shove his unorganized shit into this closet, so looking for anything was pretty hopeless but he was determined. After a solid hour of digging he finally stumbled upon the three holy items.

A red and black sleeveless top with the White Chappel logo stitched on it, a short simple red skirt and a long golden locked wig, slightly crumpled with two red bows on either side.

Benny squeezes the items tight, inhaling the stale closet air with glee.

He folds and softly places the items in his satchel underneath his books, he sits back in his chair and spins around. He stops and excitedly scribbles down the rest of the notes.

Chapter 2.

–After School– Benny stands in the bathroom, legs trembling. Oh, this is so stupid, what am I doing!? I should be home playing video games with Ethan, or something. Anything other then this. Oh, fucking christ.

Despite his anxious thoughts, he continues changing into his old cheerleading uniform. Once he's done, he takes a deep breath. His hand hovers over the stall door as he hesitates to open it. With an exhale, he pushes though and looks in the mirror. After making sure none of his short brown hair is sticking out, he rushes out of the men's bathroom.

He prays to god that no one saw him.

He quickly arrives at the gym hall. The bleachers are filled with preppy girls chatting and sitting around, waiting for their turn. He places himself down at the first row, holding onto grandma’s magical pompoms for good luck.

“Hi!” A cheery blonde walks up to him, “Please make sure you sign in before waiting!”

She hands him a clipboard filled with flowery, delicate names written in fancy cursive. Three spaces remain at the bottom asking to fill in a first and last name.

Benny shakily signs “Betty Weir” in the best cursive she could manage.

“Thank you buh-” she looks closer at the chicken scratches, “Betty!”

She walks away with a hop in her step, moving on to greet the new students walking in.

And Betty’s more than relieved.

Getting comfortable and with not much else to do, he watches one after another of girls doing backflips, somersaults and jumping jacks.

Oh god, he really missed doing—or at least, attempting—those tricks. He ruffles his pom poms and cheers like the other girls in the bleachers after each girl finishes their routine, trying to fit in.

Sadly his efforts weren't enough. He hears snickering behind him. He tries not to eavesdrop, but the fragments he can pick up made his stomach turn.

"Who is that?" A voice whispers.

"I don't know, but look at her hairy legs, oh my god."

"Total lesbo..." they laugh.

Betty freezes. How dare they? Why did I do this? I'm so fucking stupid, I didn't even shave my legs. I wanna go home. What am I doing here. I should just leave.

She feels tears welling up in her eyes. But before her train of thought can go any further off track, she hears a loud hiss behind her.

"What's your fucking problem?" A familiar voice yells, "She hasn't done anything! Leave her alone!"

Betty turns to see Erica, of all people, stomping down the bleachers to her.

"Hey, Is this seat taken?" she asks.

"Uhm..." Betty tries to speak in the highest octave she can, "No, go ahead!"

"Don't listen to those cunts," she sneers, "they're just jealous of us natural blondes."

"Ahah, right..."

"You seem familiar..." Erica looks at Betty, "You cheered for awhile last year, right?"

"Oh, yeah. Ahah." Betty nervously laughs, shying away from Erica's stares.

"OMG what happened? Why did you leave?"

"Well, you know, a head cheerleader being an evil witch is kinda off putting."

Erica clicks her tongue, "Damn, can't blame you for that. But don't worry, she's dealt with now."

"Yeah," Betty sighs, remembering the reason she has to pack her own lunches now, "Wonder what happened to her."

An ear piercing whistle interrupts their conversation.

"Erica Jones!" a teacher shouts.

"Oh, that's me," She stands up and tightens her pony tail, "I'll be right back."

"Good luck." Betty smiles.

Erica does amazingly, flipping and flying though the air. She lands all her stunts perfectly. She does have vampirism on her side, but even then, she has to be practicing religiously to do a triple backflip one handed. She's definitely getting in.

When she finishes, Betty is too timid to cheer. She quietly ruffles her pompoms as Erica sits back down next to her.

"Awe, no cheering?" She teases, "Was I that bad?"

"OMG, no! No, you were flipping amazing!" she gushes, pun completely intended.

"Awe, thank you," she blushes, "Have you gone yet?"

"Ah, no. W last name, takes forever."

"Ahh, best for last I guess." she elbows Betty, "So, what IS your name?"

"Oh, aha. Betty."

"Betty, huh?" Erica smirks, "Guessing your parents liked Archie?"

"Who's Archie?"

"Like, the comics."

"Oh, haha," Betty twirls her hair between her fingers, "I don't read comics or anything nerdy like that."

"Don't worry, I don't either."

Their lies brings the conversation to an uncomfortable halt. They shuffle in their seats, and look at their phones in silence. After a few names and whistle blows, Betty finally hears her name called.

"Betty Ware?" the teacher shouts.

"Oh, haha, that's me!" Betty fumbles to her feet, grabbing her lucky pompoms, and runs to the teachers side. She thought of correcting her name pronunciation, but, it's probably for the best if she keeps quiet.

"Alright, missy! Ready position!"

Betty puts her hands to her hips.

"Hand clap!"

She claps her hands together in a firm clasp.

"T motion!"

She sticks her arms out in a T, trying not to feel like a broken 3D model.

"Broken T!"

She puts her fists into her chest, keeping her arms out.

"Touchdown!"

She raises her hands way above her head.

"V motion!"

She spreads her arms apart, ruffling her pompoms.

"10 Jumping Jacks!"

She drops her pompoms down and quickly does 10 jumping jacks.

The teacher looks down at her clipboard.

"Freshman?" she asks.

"Uh, Junior this year." Betty squeaks.

"Thank you," she scribbles something down on her paper, "You can have a seat."

Betty gives her a quick curtsy and picks up her pompoms, running back to a cheering Erica.

"Ahah, stop!" Betty blushes, as she sits down next to her.

"Why? You were great!" Erica beams.

"Really?"

"Yeah! Your form was awesome, and you had a great smile!"

Betty tries not to blush, "Glad my midnight practices paid off..."

--Cut to Benny in his room.--

He's quietly murmuring a cheer while dancing around his messy floor.

"Boom! Did a bomb just go off in my head?" She puts a hand to her ear.

"No!" She stands on her bed, punching at the air. "It's the devils when we beat you black and red!"

"Calla' nurse calla' doctor" She shouts, jumping up and down.

He hears knocking on his door.

"Benny," his grandma's muffled voice came though the door, "Can you please keep it down?"

"Yeah, okay." he replies with a voice crack.

--Cuts back--

"OMG! I'll have to practice with you some time then."

"Haha, um, maybe."

A whistle blows.

"Alright girls, I've seen some great performances today." The tall, lengthy teacher announces. "Results will be up by tomorrow next to the gym doors."

The small crowd of wannabe cheer leaders stare at her with anticipation.

"You're dismissed."

The girls quickly rush down the bleachers and out the gym doors, but Erica stays comfortably next to Betty, obviously having something on her mind.

The rude two brunettes finally make it down from the back row of bleachers they were sitting on.

Erica growls at them and gets up from her seat.

"It was nice talking to you Betty," she says, gathering up her things, "I'll see you at school?"

"No!" Betty clams up, "Oh, no, I don't go to uh. School."

"What?"

"Home school. I'm Home schooled." Betty gives a large cheeky smile.

"Huh." Erica pulls her purse over her shoulder, charms clacking together, "Well, then, could we exchange numbers?"

Betty makes a shocked face.

Erica—A Girl—Willingly giving me her number?

"Sure... why not..."

Erica whips out her phone, covered from lock screen to phone case with Dusk's Jakeward smoldering into the camera. Betty swipes though and starts putting in her phone number.

"Here, gimme your phone!" Erica says, tapping her foot impatiently.

Betty takes out her phone in her bumpy green case and cringes. This isn't too much of a Boy Phone case is it?

Erica doesn't seem to mind, since she quickly punches in her digits.

"I'd love to chat more but..." Erica looks out the gym doors, in the direction the brunettes went, "I gotta go get something to eat... Text me!"

"Ahah, of course," Betty nervously tugs at her blonde hair, "See you later!"

And just like that, she's alone in the gymnasium.

She heads to the bathroom, checking both ways to make sure the coast was clear, and walks in. She gives herself one last good look in the mirror before she closes the stall door behind her.

Her eyes wander to different spots of the stall as she changes. Markings left by her peers read; "I was here" next to 20 tally marks, A few crudely drawn penises and someone's bandcamp link written in sharpie.

She takes out her baggy blue jeans, looks down at her unshaven legs, and sighs.

Guess I'll get to use a razor for real this time. She thinks to herself, scratching her hairless cheek.

A part of her never wants to put these pants on again. Just live out of her perfect uniform, but she has a grandma to return to and dinner to eat. So before she knows it, she's back to being plain old Benny.

As she stuffs her uniform away, his phone vibrates multiple times.

He slings his satchel over his shoulder and heads out of the school. As he clicks together the straps of his blue bike helmet, he checks his phone to read the messages.

From Erica: heyyy betty its erica! had a talk with those girls who were super rude 2 ya dw about them bothering u EVER again ;)

Something tells Benny that she did a lot more with her and her fangs then just talk...

Thanks for reading! Happy International Womens day~

#my babysitter's a vampire #my babysitters a vampire #fanfiction #fanfic #betty weir #erica jones #benny weir #mbav #fanfics #BWF

[hannibalismos-jaaneman]

being a teen gen z, gen alpha terrifies the living fuck outta me.

#these kids be using ipads for like video calling and shit when i've not even used the camera of an apple device like wtf #like i haven't even held an iphone. no one in my fam has one. we all are like SAMSUNG SUPREMACY because it has memory and battery life #whenever i realise one of my teachers uses a macbook i go like- #HEY THEY USE APPLE THAT'S WHY THEY HAVE SHIT INTERNET QUALITY! now i get why i can't ever hear shit in their class. #and the worst part of that is that they don't even know what i just said means. they be using that without even knowing what a usb port is! #like desi gen alpha be like OMG DID YOU WATCH THE EPISODE OF BIG BOSS LAST NIGHT? BITCH MY PARENTS WOULD DISOWN ME IF I STAYED UP THAT LATE #they would be like go to bed and don't you dare eavesdrop this shit or we'll lock you in the fucking bathroom for a week #AND THAT TOO THEY WATCH IT AS LIKE 8 YEAR OLDS??? LIKE WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK??? I STILL DON'T WATCH THAT SHOW BECAUSE IT'S SO NEGATIVE! #i just feel like i'm talking like a threatened millennial and i totally get them man. i confess that i am fucking PETRIFIED of these kids. #they be like wearing uggs at FOUR and like leopard print and shit and be making ig reels and i be like MOM WHAT IS E: DRIVE??? #istg i am nowhere except tumblr and pinterest and these KIDS have like fricking DISCORD ACCOUNTS and LISTEN TO R RATED MUSIC #my dad still bats his eyelashes at me like a cop when he hears a fuck or even a shit in the lyrics and goes WHAT WAS THAT?? but mildly #and i'm a teen! #my parents would stop me from using the INTERNET if they found a word like fuck in the lyrics of the songs i listened to at that age! #i am not even sure if i had allowance to use internet at that age- i was allowed google at like 10 i think- #these kids get that shit at like what 4???? i mean??? oKAY i GUESS??? #gen alpha #see these kids even have a weird name #totally understandable #raj shitposting

[slvtbible]

G O L D

chapter one

summary: [y/n is a young stripper who is adored by many men. harry styles is a man who loves to carry danger with him]

word count: 4222

pairing: stripper!y/n and gangleader!harry

warnings: violence, vulgar language, sexual acts, alcohol and drug

to be honest, i was a little hesitant to post it here and i don’t know if this story will blow up on tumblr or get many notes but that’s the last thing on my mind right now. i just want to share what i’ve been working on that kept you guys waiting for almost a year lol sorry about that. But yes, she’s finally here!! I posted first on wattpad before i put it here, I felt like the only way to reach out more people to read it it’s through that. And also, i decided to use a name on wattpad but I’d use the term ‘y/n’ on tumblr. Enjoy it all my loves! Give me feedbacks!💜

*

*

Harry fixes the collar of his sheer black shirt before tucking it neatly inside the black trousers he's currently wearing. He normally goes something more extravagant for going out. His closet is filled with colourful ruffles and Hawaiian shirts along with 'more than one colour' suits. However tonight, he needs to lay low for a bit. Especially when he's about to step into one of the most famous strip clubs in New York in an hour to meet up with the manager.

He's very much aware of the reputation he has put on himself out there. Though there's no use of camouflage and hiding, he still doesn't want a cause a scene,

Yet.

His hand lifts a bottle of Tom Ford from the dresser before spraying it twice on his neck. Stepping away from the full length mirror, he grabs his cross necklace from the bed before putting the accessory around his neck as he walks out of the room.

"Talk to me Reece" his heavy accent echoes the hallway as he walks downstairs, watching his few men pocketing their weapons,

Reece, the brown skinned man with tattoos nods. "He's there. Just got a word from Bianco. He appears isn't expecting you, Boss. However I do believe he knows you're coming soon. The club is far too crowded than usual but Bianco is taking care of that right now." He informs, showing him the message on the phone,

Harry can only scoff, nodding at him as a thank you. "That son of a bitch should've. Owes me more than fucking money." He mutters, inserting the .45 ACP inside his gun holster. "The car's ready?"

Nodding, Reece leads Harry down towards the basement. "As requested. Lamborghini Murcielago in blue hera. Pack with 640 PS and 471 kW, rules around 213 mph if you consider on hit and run. Still, I pack a standard Aeropack wing if you wanna go slow tonight. The windows? Bulletproof. In case anyone tries to kill you." Harry knows he's only joking about the last part. No one dares try to kill him before he does it. It's a pattern that everyone knows by now.

Harry lets out a low whistle, softly shaking his head as the machine beauty appears. Tracing lightly with his ring cladded fingers along the hood of the car. "Not planning to hit and run tonight, Reece. Not even thinking about racing down the street with my weapon outside the window. You don't have anything more. . . Less attractive?" He questions, still staring at the gorgeous car ahead of him,

"You know I don't do less, boss." Reece winks playfully, laughing to himself as he watches Harry roll his eyes. "Besides. Who knows you'll get yourself a bird tonight, eh? Take her out on a stroll before bringing her home to your place. Women love fast cars." He comments, pressing the button on the keys as the door opens,

Humming as a response, Harry walks towards the driver's seat, "I don't date anymore, thought my right hand man knew tha' " He speaks, words laced with seriousness while grabbing the keys from Reece's fingers,

He can only sigh and nod his head. "Understood. Yet, Kendra is like what? Two years ago? Gotta get yourself something better, boss. You deserve it. So do it tonight." He suggests, watching him going inside the car before shutting the door,

Harry smiles a bit, inserting the keys inside the ignition before starting the car. "Noted."

The dark haired man steps away from the car. Giving Harry a salute. "I'll be right behind you. See you there."

*

*

*

Y/N Y/L/N stands in front of the mirror as she applies another layer of red lipstick on her plump lips. Securing the tube back as she puckers her mouth to see if it fits the colour for tonight. She twirls, watching carefully how the gold lingerie clads perfectly around her breasts and down to her curvy hips and thick thighs.

She stops once her plump ass is facing the mirror, admiring how beautiful and big her bum is in the lingerie. It's a compliment really. She loves working out to give her bum a bit bigger. It's not that she hopes she'll gain attention from people, she just loves her body. She worships every piece of it despite what other people think of it. Insecurity was her biggest enemy but not anymore. After reading lots of books and poems about self love she learns that there's nothing she should be ashamed of.

Grabbing a bottle of lotion from her table, she squeezes the bottle into her hand before rubbing her bum with the cold cream, rubbing it neatly to make sure she doesn't miss a spot.

Another thing, she loves moisturizing her plump flesh before the show. It's sexy

"Joe is asking for you." She hears a voice coming from behind, craning her neck to see her closest co-worker Violet, already in her usual purple wig and attire as she stands beside Angelina. "I love working as a stripper but he really needs to learn to be patient and. . . shut up, i guess?"

Y/N releases a small laugh, moving her long dark wavy hair to rest on her chest. "I know, I know. Jesus, I've told him fifteen minutes prior that I'll take longer than usual." She slips on her gold heels and turns to face Violet, who's biting her lip as she stares at Angelina's body up and down. "Okay, how do i look?"

Violet raises her eyebrow, as if it's something her friend shouldn't be asking. "You kidding? You look like a sex goddess. Gonna get all the men on their knees for you, girl"

Scoffing, she shoots her a wink and a flirtatious smile. "Old men with beer bellies? No thanks. I'd rather make out with Gordon." She replies, seemingly disgusted about the thought of grinding on an old man's lap tonight.

"Is that a bet I hear?" Violet questions, leaning towards her a bit as she waits for her friend’s response. "Please tell me that it is so I can earn extra cash tonight."

Gordon is a perverted bartender that always keeps his eye on Y/N throughout her routine. He's 40 and is always asking Angelina on a 'date' and by date, he means her ass on his lap. Clearly something Y/N isn't too fond of. Him specifically. Violet and Y/N have always made a joke about him, something they could make a playful banter in every chance they get.

Plus, she heard he's married. Isn't he supposed to find another job rather than here? If his wife found out what kind of a sleaze bag she married, she would be crushed,

Rolling her eyes, Y/N shoves her playfully by the arm. "Ha ha, very funny" she answers, resuming to untangle her hair from knots.

Violet laughs, pinching her on the hip as she lets outa small squeal. "Just messing with you, baby. Good luck out there. Put the rest of us to shame tonight. . . Like any other night"

Y/N flips her off, yet knowing it's the truth. She's not trying to sound like a condescending bitch here but none of the girls here are actually capable to do what Y/N does. That's what makes men attracted to her. She knows what she's doing. She knows how to make a man hard.

"By the way, you heard what Joe's talking about earlier?" Violet asks, toeing off her heels as she exhales a relief sigh. "Damn those heels are killing me" She mumbles,

"No... What's about?" She turns her head to face Violet for her to explain, causing her to shrug her shoulders,

"Don't know much about it. . . But i hear Harry Styles is coming here to meet up with him. Something about transaction or shit" She waves it off, whispering it to Y/N, looking around to make sure no one is eavesdropping,

She almost chokes on her saliva after hearing Violet says the name. "Harry Styles?! The. . . mafia boss of New York..?" Her eyes widen at the possibility of the most dangerous man in the city paying a visit to the place she works at,

Nodding, Violet answers, "Yup. That Harry Styles. He's the devil. Let's hope this place doesn't turn into a war zone."

Y/N has heard about this Harry guy. The most feared man of New York. She does know a little bit of the relations between Joe and Mr. Styles. Almost every night she could hear Joe freaking out about this man. She may not know him that close, hell she had never even met him in person but people talk. One thing she learned about hearing his reputation, you don't ever want to mess with this guy.

Violet snaps her fingers to snap Y/N out of her thoughts. "Less worrying, girl. Come on, you got a show to put on yes?"

"Y-yeah. Fuck. . . now i'm scared" She breathes out, looking at her reflection in the mirror one last time. Calming down her mind.

After giving Violet a kiss on a cheek and receiving a tap on her ass, she takes a deep breath as she opens the beaded curtain and walk out to the club. Jhene Aiko is playing through the speakers, thanks to her who chose the music for tonight. She can already feel all eyes on her as she struts down confidently, putting on a smirk and winking at couple of men here and there. As much as it disgusts her, she grazes her hand along a man's arm who's biting his lip and looking at her up and down.

'What the fuck did i do to deserve this?' she thinks to herself, staring at the man in front of her who's probably the same age as her father. The thought of it makes her gag,

She gives the man a wink before getting up on the stage, hearing a few hollers from behind. reaching out to wrap her hand around the silver pole and her leg hooking up to support her body. Slowly twirling with her head thrown back and closes her eyes with money being toss at her direction before letting go and crutching down on her knees, moving close towards the same man earlier. He slips in a couple of hundred dollar bills inside her panties, causing the others to do the same.

This may be not how she pictures her success but damn, by the end of the week, her bank account can go from three to six digits.

She's definitely gonna hold on to that,

*

*

*

It takes Harry close to thirty minutes to get here. He blames it all on the traffic, cursing to himself every time he stops at red lights. He parks his car close to the entry before he exits from the vehicle. He looks over his shoulder to find a familiar black car driving towards her, noting to himself it's Reece's. Seeing him wave his hand to make sure he's coming in later.

He clears his throat, clenching his jaw as he walks into the club. Reece wasn't lying, the club is too packed for tonight. As if God knew what is about to get down tonight and isn't going to let him get away with witnesses. He really needs to play safe for a while tonight.

As he strides through the room to find a table he has reserved for, a few half naked girls walk right pass him, stroking his exposed chest and grabbing his shoulders. Most of them are gorgeous and he's tempted to touch their soft skin yet he has to hold it. Not that he isn't interested because he's definitely taking someone back to his place tonight--fucking Reece had to be right-- but he needs to get his head in the game for at least an hour before planning to do so.

Gently, he pulls back a chair for him to sit. He specifically asks for the furthest table so no one can figure out what he's about to do tonight. A glass of whiskey has been set on his table before he got here, waiting for Joe's arrival. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Reece and Bianco walking over to his table. One of them gives him a nod to acknowledge his presence.

Harry lifts the glass up to his lips and take a sip of it. Honestly, he hates doing all of this dirty work. Sure, he's the boss. But he despises complicated things. He should've known not to trust Joe about anything, yet when he begged on his knees with a gun knocked against his head as he spat out a bunch of threats to the weakened man, he thought why not? If Joe didn't get to fulfill his demands, he gets to kill him either way. It's always a pleasure for him to do so.

"Mr. Styles! Ay, i'm so happy to see you. You look a lot cleaner than i saw you the last time, eh?" Joe's voice causes Harry's green eyes averts from the scene on the crowd. His eyebrows are knitted, jaw tightened as he taps his fingers against the table, causing the rings he's wearing to knock.

He owes him money worth $50,000. And this man had the nerve to walk in and act like nothing happened.

He is definitely going to kill him.

"Stop with all that shit and sit the fuck down. You owe me something Joe." Harry warns, pointing at him as Harry's men forces the dark haired male to sit down making him gulp. "You owe me 50 grand for that package you piece of shit."

Joe couldn't feel more terrified as he catches a glimpse of Harry's gun on the table, facing towards him. "I know Harry, I know. I didn't forget, okay? It's just the money is tight right now. The girls aren't getting the amount of money they used to be getting." Joe tries to reason but Harry isn't having any of it,

"Stop being a fucking pussy and blame your girls for the money you've lost. I'm running out of patience here, Joe. If you don't give me the money by the end of the week, you're a dead man. I still have one body bag left in my car and I wouldn't mind writing your name on it." Harry grits his teeth, looking at him with a dark look in his eyes. Hand gripping tightly around the glass

"No man, I need more than that. Please, I'll do whatever you ask me to. You will have your money man I promised." Joe begs, looking at Harry with hopeful eyes.

Harry finds it quite disgusting to see someone like him beg for mercy-- for the second time--or anything at all to be honest. He find that gesture is weak and vulnerable which makes him very easy to manipulate over. "I don't give out second chances."

Joe hears a gun clicks behind, he doesn't need to know what's going on. He knows one of the two men behind him is ready to blow his brains out. "Harry man. . . One more. . . Give me one more"

Harry isn't a patient man. He doesn't want people beg. He doesn't want him to beg. But he finds it interesting to see how it goes, playing along this little game of his.

"Fine. you give me your best girl and i'll give you two months." Harry offers, cocking his eyebrow as he leans back to relax himself. "No more than that."

Joe's eyes widen at Harry's demand. It's impossible to collect a 50 grand in two months, especially when he's short on it. He needs more than that. Still, he thinks two months is better than nothing. "Okay. . . Agreed. Just tell me which girl you want or-or i could bring one or two here, man. Take your pick."

Harry can only hum in response, scanning his eyes over the scene. Dozens of girls dancing on stage, few of them even has their bras taken off. It seems to him, none of these girls on the room is his type.

Until his green eyes fall on a certain slightly curvy woman with her leg wrapped around the pole.

Her long dark hair brushing lightly against the floor as she bend her back a bit. He observes the way her body move so dirty yet gracefully around the pole,  the way she bites onto her pink glossed lips and how her brown eyes manage to flirt with the crowd and had them lure into her eyes including himself. He swears this girl just steps out of his daydreams. She looks perfect.

He admires how she circle her hips painfully slow, jealous how he isn't close enough to watch her plump flesh near his strong figure.

"Her. I want her" Harry points at the girl he can't take his eyes off. His voice sounds too possessive but he doesn't care if he does. He's too enhanced with the way she moves on that stage and he loves how she swats those dirty hands who seems desperate to cope a feel with a dirty look on her face.

'Seems like a fighter' he thinks to himself

"Y/N? You want her?" Joe asks after he realises who Harry's pointing at.

"Y/N? That's a gorgeous name. She's not taken is she? Not that i care anyway. She's a dime from what i can see here." He says, not tearing his eyes off of her while he sips on his drink. "You're gonna give me her to me aren't you?" Harry asks, his eyes are threatening enough for Joe so he nods his head as a response.

"Yes. Of course. If that's what you want."

"Fuck yes i do. Bring me to one of your rooms. I want a private from her" He demands before gulping down his drink, standing up to head over to the back. Not before glancing at the gorgeous woman one last time who stuffs a few dollar bills in her panties.

*

*

After what it feels like forever dancing on stage and have men whistling at her to go over and give them more, she finally sit herself down on a chair in her dressing room and take a deep breath. Moaning in relief as she pulls her heels off while setting her timer on because she only has thirty minutes to rest before going back out there again. She leans back against the chair, sighing in a pure bliss.

She can hear a few girls talking and laughing while preparing themselves for their performance tonight, wishing she could just join in because Violet informs her earlier there's some juicy gossip she needs to talk about but she cant take it. She's too tired.

She has only closes her eyes for 10 minutes until a familiar voice speaks out,

"Where's Y/N?"

She groans internally. Can never mistake that voice soon as she hears it. Her manager, who sounds like he's panting, voice firm as if is an emergency to call her out like that. Y/N still has her eyes shut as she raises her hand up, not having the energy to respond.

"Okay, good. Y/N. You don't need to go back out there again. There's a special guest I need you to entertain. He's already waiting in the red room."

She nods and hum, only to realize what he means as her eyes bugs out.

Wait, what?

She's quick to turn around, brows furrows and mouth hangs open, not believing what she has just heard. "Pardon?"

"There's a man. A guy who I work with, waiting in one of the rooms. He specifically asked for you. I need you to at least give him an hour." Joe notifies, running his hand over his face as if he's stressed about something,

"You want me to give a lap dance to your co-worker?" She raises her eyebrow, not believing what he just asked her

Joe sighs angrily, "it's technically not--Y/N... please. No more questions, just go over there."

"Who's the guy?" she ignores his orders as she stands, crossing her arms across her chest. "Jesus, fuck. I really need my hair to breath" she mutters, brushing down her long dark brown hair,

"Harry Styles."

Y/N freezes in an instant. Looking up to stare at Joe in the eye to see if he's joking, he can only nod his head to confirm her questioning look. " you're shitting me."

"I'm not," Joe replies, walking over to her, not wanting the other girls to hear. "Y/N, I owe him money. I haven't got them yet and--"

She scoffs, rolling her eyes and continue messing with her hair a bit more. "Not my problem."

He reaches out to grab her elbow, pulling her harshly causing her to stumble a bit. "Y/N, please... He wanted to kill me out there earlier. The guy brought a gun for God's sake. He gave me a month but until then... he wants you."

"You know i'm not a hooker" Y/N defeatedly sighs. She wants to help him, she does but it sounds like he's selling her off for a month to this notorious and dangerous guy who is named to be the deadliest man alive by the people of New York.

She loves money but no fucking way she's willing to die for it.

"I didn't say you were" He roughly says, hand gripping tightly on her arm. "Just... do it" He let her go, tired of the waiting because he doesn't want to make Harry pissed off now,

The girl sighs angrily, squeezing her eyes shut as she hesitates for a while. What the fuck did she get herself into?

"Fine. just give me a moment."

Giving her a smile, Joe thanks her by giving her a kiss on the cheek, telling her the door number Harry is in before walking out of the room. Soon after he walks out, she feels sick in her stomach. How could she ever go face to face with a man with blood in his hands? She's about to give this man a lap dance. Who knew he might've ask for more?

So now, as she finishes re-applying a layer of red lipstick, she heads out. Walking to the back of the room in a slow pace. Heart beating loud and fast as she's about to come face to face with this man. Still, she needs to play it cool. God really fucking hates her,

If he really does exists.

She takes a deep breath before opening the brown door carefully, pushing it open. Her knees almost buckle at the sight of Harry Styles, lounging on the leather couch. A cigarette squeeze between his fingers. legs spread open as if it's an invitation already made for her. His head turns towards the door, a smirk graces upon his face.

She's not going to lie. He is indeed dashingly handsome. With his arms resting on the back of the couch making his biceps look a bit bigger. He's got killer looks too. she studies. Sexy smile, and stubble which creates a sexier look on his face. She catches a glimpse of a silver cross necklace resting against his broad chest. His eyes are sharp. Looking at her up and down with his bottom lip bitten between his teeth.

"My, my" he lowly whistles, watching her every move as she enters the room. Locking the door behind her. "I wasn't wrong. You are a fucking dime."

Y/N giggles-- though feeling scared shitless-- and run her hands over her hair as she struts her way towards his figure. Purposely swaying her ass side to side a bit to tease him. "Mr.Harry Styles. . . I heard a lot about you. Word on the street is that you're a man that likes to carry a danger" she smirks seductively as she stands in between his open legs, dragging her finger slowly down her chest.

Her angelic voice is like music to his ears,

"Yeah?" he smirks, eyes falling to the curve of her breasts. "Hope that doesn't scare you, doll. All i want is a dance from you, that's all. I also heard that you are their favourite girl. After seeing you danced on that stage, I now know why."

Again, she giggles. A small blush creeping on her cheeks, hopefully he doesn't see it. "You're a flirt aren't you, Harry? You do this to every girl?"

He places his hands slowly on her plump ass, he doesn't know if he's allowed to touch but he doesn't give a shit. She seems isn't bothered by it. He wants this girl and he wants her now.

"Only to those who i find interesting, baby. Now, are you going to show me what you got?" He asks, looking up to meet her brown eyes as he squeezes her flesh.

With a devilish smirk, she slowly sets herself down on his lap which causes him to let out a soft groan. She runs her hands down to his tattooed chest and toys with his cross necklace for a bit before whispering in his ear, "sit tight and relax, Mr. Styles. I'll be your good girl for tonight"

next chapter

*

i really don’t want to write a super long chapter, because i’m afraid it’ll bore you guys so maybe--i hope-- this is enough. anyway, i hope you guys enjoy this first chapter, let me know if you guys hate it or love it! I’ll appreciate it. love you guys!

#harry styles x reader #harry styles blurbs #harry styles imagines #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfictions #dom!harry #dom!harry styles #mafia!harry #mafia!harry styles #gang!harry #gangleader!harry #daddy!harry #daddy!harry styles

[causeimthesupernovaa]

Don't Hang Up

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

• Youngbin + Reader

• Genre: Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending

• Words: 1.2k

• Warning: language

Summary: Youngbin is suddenly all cold to you for some reason, and you are determined to find out why and make things right once again.

"What's that, Y/N? Why all the hurry?" your sister asks laughing when you end up dropping your bag for the second time as you walk to the door.

"I have to go see Youngbin," you answer, hands picking up the bag once again.

"Your dear Binnie? You're addicted, you know," she teases.

You blush.

"Stop it. I don't even call him 'Binnie'..."

"Oh, you don't? You can't trick me, girl. You do call him that. I've heard you doing that enough times while you were speaking to him at odd hours."

"Hey! Do you eavesdrop my phone calls?"

She shrugs her shoulders.

"What can I do if I also stay awake till late and the walls are so thin?"

You are blushing a deep tone of red, but you decide pretending you aren't is a good idea.

"Anyways! I've gotta see Youngbin!"

"So you are really going to see him, huh?"

"Stop laughing! I will," you cross your arms across your chest. "Is that a crime?"

"In no way. Please, go see your Binnie," she smirks.

Shit.

"Yes, I will!"

You leave the house and enter your car, a smile lurking through your lips. Your sister could be a little annoying, but the teasing didn't bother you that much if you were being honest with yourself. No, it would be impossible. You have been just too happy the last couple of months to really care. Heck, you couldn't even remember a happiness bigger than the one you were living with everyday now.

You speed up, humming a feel good song as you navigate through the city streets. Soon, you put your phone on the speaker and call Youngbin. Silence.

Weird. He always picks up right away... You call him again, and he finally answers on your third or fourth try.

"Binnie, why didn't you answer?" you chuckle and smile to yourself. "Anyways, let's hang out today? I'm already on my—"

"Y/N," he cuts you, his voice tense. "Today is not a good day for that. Go back home," and then he hangs up.

What? Kim Youngbin never hangs up on anybody. Ever.

You dial his number again.

"What?!" he asks annoyed. "I'm in no humor to put up with you right now. Give me a fucking break!"

And then he hangs up again.

You come back home holding your tears. You are very, very hurt, but above all, you are confused. You have never seen Youngbin be rude to anyone before, let alone you. What was going on?

You enter the house being as silent as you can so not to bring any attention to yourself and lock yourself in your room. You pick your phone and dial Dawon's number, Youngbin's friend and also coworker.

"Hello, Y/N?" he says as he picks up.

"Hey, Dawon."

The phone goes silence for a few seconds.

"Are you alright? Your voice sounds shaky..."

"To be honest, I'm not, Dawon," you sight, trying to keep your voice stable this time. "Youngbin has just been weird. Do you know if anything is going on with him?"

"Oh," you hear him say, his tone not as bright as usual. "I know what it is."

"You do?!" you hold tight onto the phone, as if doing so is going to bring the answer sooner to you.

"Yeah," he confirms. "Today Youngbin hyung got fired, Y/N. Didn't he tell you?"

"F-Fired? He didn't say a word..."

Dawon sights.

"Yeah, he was. They substituted him with someone younger and with a 'fresher outlook'," he explains in a sad voice. "He wasn't the one who told me, though. It was all gossip. Everyone in the office would only talk about this this afternoon."

You look at the window with a frown in your face, thinking about how your boyfriend must be feeling right now.

"Thanks, Dawon. I'll figure something out."

In the next afternoon, you go to Youngbin's apartment and come in using the extra key he keeps under the rug. You are someone who absolutely sucks in the kitchen, but you think it is worth it trying to make a few sandwiches, right? At least you know you can't burn them.

The sun is already setting when you finally hear the door being opened. You go hide in the bedroom right away, peeking through the slightly opened door.

Youngbin enters the apartment wearing a suit, his expression tired. He has probably spent the whole day looking for a job, but you don't know with how much luck. You see him going to the joint kitchen and hold your breath. He makes a surprised face as he sees the sandwiches and the juice jar carefully organized over the white towel on the small wooden table.

"How—" he blinks confused, but doesn't take long to devour everything. Wow, he was probably very hungry. You wonder if he has even had lunch today.

The man goes to the bathroom and closes the door, and you hear the sound of water flowing a few moments after. You leave his room at this moment and go back to the kitchen, where you wait. It is almost torture having to sit still like that, but you do it.

When Youngbin finally emerges from the small corridor, he looks confused at the living room, and you wouldn't really expect something different. He is wearing the clothes you had separated and put over his bed, a comfortable set of sweatshirts and sweatpants. There's no way he's not weirded out by now.

You sight, afraid of his reaction, but you don't give yourself time to hesitate. You walk silently to him and hug him from behind.

"Binnie," you sweetly say to him.

"Ah!" he turns to you, expression completely shocked. "Y/N? What are you—"

You hug him again, this time facing him. You hold him tight, your arms around his waist.

"Don't say anything. I've came to cheer you up, okay?" you whisper to him and take a step back. "Go sit on the sofa. I'm going to make you some popcorn and—"

Youngbin pulls you by the waist to a warm hug.

"You don't say anything," he whispers softly. "Don't take care of me like you have done something wrong. You haven't. I have."

You say nothing. You simply didn't know how to answer.

Youngbin caresses your hair.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I'm the worst boyfriend ever."

"No, you were just stressed out that day, baby. That's it."

"That's no excuse, Y/N," he lets go of the hug and places his hands on your shoulders, his eyes looking deeply into yours. "I'm sorry," he repeats. "I'm sorry for how I've treated you, for what I've said... Put up with you?! Never! You are not a burden, you're a blessing! And if anything, you are the one who has to put up with this idiotic me, the one who needs to have a break," once again, you hold him tight against you. "I-I love you, Y/N, and I don't want to ever lose you," he lets one of his hands touch your face. "Can you forgive me?"

You smile and delicately dry the tears in his eyes with your fingers.

"I already have."

Youngbin gives you a kiss on the forehead and intertwines your fingers together.

"What about we make that popcorn? I'll watch whatever movie you want."

You laugh, heart now beating lightly in your chest.

"Alright. But now that you've said it, you can't go back on your word, okay?"

He smiles and places an arm over your shoulders.

"I wouldn't dare."

#fantasylibrary #sf9 fluff #sf9 #youngbin au #sf9 au #youngbin fluff #youngbin imagine