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bunny-yan · 5 hours

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OMG I love your writing for the yan. Bully. Could you write more of him?

TW: language, violence, minors DNI

—

You cut around a corner, praying to god that he didn’t see you.

It was routine at this point to make a break for the door the minute the bell rang, immediately looking for a possible escape route. He’d notice if you took the same path too often, so you’d risk setting off the emergency exits, leave through the front door only if the crowd was big enough to hide you, and the back door if you got a chance to leave your last class early, hoping to sneak out before he even had an opportunity to lie in wait for you.

It didn’t always work; most times, it didn’t. But when it did, he seemed to double down, making it increasingly difficult to escape without some form of harassment.

You remembered the first time you managed to leave school without running into him. It felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of your chest, and you thought maybe this was the chance you’d been hoping for this entire time. That you just needed to wait him out, and he would eventually get bored and lose interest before going home.

Slammed into the brick wall before the bell rang to signify that your classes were starting for the day, you knew how wrong you were when you saw the livid expression on his face.

It was stupid. You knew his harassment would only get worse if you managed to escape his notice today, but there was no fucking way you were just going to sit there and take it. His harassment got worse if you obeyed, and it was fucking awful when you didn’t. You’d offered everything you could think of to appease him, to get him off your back, but he’d chosen you as his new target and refused to let you go that easily.

“There you are.” you heard his voice say. You didn’t have enough time to run before he grabbed your shirt by the collar and dragged you into the boy’s bathroom.

There was no point in looking for help. You’d stupidly cornered yourself in an isolated part of the school, thinking you could make it to the rarely used staircase before sprinting for the back door. A roundabout method that bit you in the ass today.

Being shoved in the bathroom, you got into a defensive stance. It never ended well if you tried to fight back against him. Looking at the cocky expression on his face, you could tell he was probably thinking something similar. He loved to remind you of your place.

“How’s my bitch doing?” he asked, walking forward.

His eyebrows rose at your continued silence, and you stepped back when he approached. “Are you deaf? I asked you a question.”

You remembered the last time you tried to ignore his prodding. If you hadn’t reacted as quickly as you had and raised your hands to shield your head, it would’ve been slammed into the wall. Saying he had a nasty temper was putting it lightly.

When you saw his hand ball into a fist, your courage withered as you looked away.

“Fine,” you said through gritted teeth. He took another step closer that had you backing into a wall.

There was an unsettling look, but it transformed into a large grin as he lifted his hand to slap you on the cheek before laughing.

“That’s good,” he said, shoving one of his hands in his pocket while the other clipped you chin before turning your head as he pleased as he cocked his head to the side. “I was going to wait at the entrance, but something told me you would turn tail and run. It’s pure luck that I caught you.”

Your avoidance had become too obvious. You should’ve gotten lost in the crowd on the way to the entrance or hung out in your class until your teacher kicked you out—anything to avoid him without tipping him off.

“Is there something wrong?” he asked, his voice mocking even though he wanted you to answer. “I was under the impression that we had gotten close over the last few months,” he said, taking another step forward.

There was nowhere for you to go. He crowded your space to the point where you could feel his breath on your face, and it was getting increasingly harder to breathe.

“Can you stop this?” you asked, pushing his hand away. Your hand was slapped, a sharp sting almost making you wince but you grit your teeth.

“Stop what?” he asked, putting his free hand into his pocket. His voice was innocent, seemingly unaware of what you were talking about despite having cornered you in the boys’ bathroom with your back against the wall.

“I don’t know what I did to make you so upset, but can’t you just go back to ignoring me? Please?”

“Please?” he exclaimed, coming closer despite the little space there was between you. “Now you’re begging me? Fuck, is it my birthday?”

He made you uneasy.

A look was enough, so when he did things like this you felt the urge to gouge his eyes out so he could never look at you again with those eyes, daring you to look at him. He knew what his gaze did to you and so he’d goad you until your gaze finally met his.

Intense and expecting, you could never hold it for long. He noticed. He loved it.

“I don’t know why you keep asking me. Didn’t we already talk about this?”

“I want you to leave me alone.”

You don’t know where your courage came from. You weren’t exactly afraid of him, but that look he would give, would strike fear in you. He was someone you would never want to run on the street for as long as you lived the minute you escaped from this fucking hellscape they called highschool.

“Leave me alone.” he said in a mocking voice. “I want you to leave me alone. Well, I don’t want to leave you alone. We’ve discussed this.”

His hand patted your cheek, as he smiled.

“You have two options. You can either be my bitch,” he began, his gaze shifting lower as his hand rested on your hip, a thumb caressing your side. “...or you can be my friend.”

The goosebumps were unbearable as you shoved him back.

He laughed. It was never a good sign.

You stepped to the side right as his fist collided with the wall where your head had been.

“Ow! Fuck! Don’t move!”

You didn’t listen.

You tried to take off for the door, but you slipped right as you made it to grab the handle. You had to balance yourself before attempting to yank the it open and it was all the time he needed for his good hand to grab the collar of your shirt and yank you back into the bathroom before you could get away.

“If you want me to treat you like a bitch, I’ll threat you like a fucking-”

You felt a couple of buttons on your shirt pop as you attempted to wrestle your way out of his grip, but he manhandled you to the floor.

With a hand around your neck he used his other hand to yank at your collar. You didn’t understand what he was doing, but you knew it was dangerous to be underneath him.

“What the fuck is this?” he asked, the balled up shirt in his grip revealing bruises that started at your neck and disappeared underneath your shirt.

Did he really have to ask?

With his friends watching his each and every move, it was no wonder they picked up on the true nature of your relationship. He would act friendly in front of prying eyes, but the minute the two of you were alone, the mask came off.

They figured he wanted to let off some steam for that first punch you threw and they were all too willing to help him seek his revenge.

“Who did this to you?” he asked, hand still gripping the ripped collar of your shirt in his fist.

“Fuck off.” you growled, attempting to push him off of you, but he grabbed your forearm, forcing you to your back before he shook you, causing your head to smack against the tiled floor.

“Who the fuck did this?”

“It was your fucking friends!” you shouted, grabbing his wrists to try and pry him off of you. You were sick of this. You were sick of him. God, your head fucking hurt.

“Who was it?” he asked, flinging your wrists away as he tried to force your shirt off, gritting his teeth and going for your belt buckle instead when you began to fight him. “Where else did they touch you?”

What? Was he worried about you getting bruises that didn’t come from him?

“Fuck off, you asshole! I got thrown against a wall a couple of times and that was it.”

You weren’t prepared, nor did you really comprehend the moment his fist reared back before slamming into your face.

A wet crunch made your eyes water as you groaned in pain. Arm cocked back, he punched you again, and it was only by the third time his fist landed did you think to raise your arms to defend.

You couldn’t throw him off of you. Any leverage you gained would be gone the minute you lowered your arms because you would be in too much pain to do much of anything besides making it stop.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he yelled, grabbing you by he collar and dragging you sit up. “I’m supposed to be your friend!”

“Fuck you.”

“What do you hope to accomplish by being so stubborn, huh?” he asked, shaking you again. “Anyone else would kill to be in your fucking shoes.”

“Then why don’t you go and bother them‽” you yelled, glaring at him through the pain. You tried to shove him again, but he wouldn’t move. It was like he was rooted on top of you and you yelled before falling back sluggishly. “There are plenty of people who would willingly fall into your lap. Why me?”

He was looking at you again, with those eyes.

“I think I might be willing to leave you alone for a bit.” he said, putting his hands on either side of your head. He leaned closer until you could feel his breath fanning across your face.

“For a little kiss.”

You didn’t say anything.

His eyes flickered between your eyes and lips, for the first time he seemed unsure what your silence meant.

It was almost amusing. The way his confidence deflated as he leaned closer, afraid that he might arouse your defiance if he moved too quickly.

He got closer, closer until his breath was on your lips, until you could feel the nervousness in it, until

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere oc #male yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #ask #yandere male #yandere bully

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sorreysorren · 2 days

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shoulder angels don't exist

the cause of your misery at ungodly hours.

you hate (love) him for it.

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“ –what the hell! you said this was a date!”

you hadn’t been paying attention to the scene in front of you until you heard the sound of a slap. you’d been standing behind isagi when you chose to look up.

“don’t touch me, you cheater!”

“aiku?” isagi and his friends questioned out loud.

“huh? oh, hey guys.” this ‘aiku’ spoke casually, while rubbing his cheek.

you remember giving the hardest side-eye. it was instinct, really.

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that was the first you ever heard and knew of oliver aiku.

due to that, of course, your first impression of him was sour. so sour you think of a green apple. you even visualize a green apple considering his hair dye choice– that stupid yellowish-green shade he was so passionate about.

you tried to push the thoughts of aiku away as you tied the laces on your boots. you deemed it pointless as the thoughts would soon resurge since you were getting ready to pick him up, after all. it was a disturbance of your precious time.

he calls, you answer. he asks you for a favor, but can you refuse?

…maybe.

but it’s hard to do so when it’s oliver. not because hearing him plead tugged on your heartstrings, but because he’s your friend. you knew what you were getting yourself into by including aiku in your life. those other girls didn't. which is why you knew not to date him.

you grabbed your keys and shut the door, texting aiku that you were on your way.

it was a 20-minute drive to the house party and the music could be heard down the neighboring street. you scrolled mindlessly through your phone. you checked your social media, but there was nothing new. you checked the weather app– summer always had the worst weather.

sighing in frustration, you waited in your car another 5 minutes hoping he’d finally see the <come outside> text you’d sent. you didn’t think you’d actually have to go inside.

inside the house, it was loud, not hot– but warm, and humid. the smell of alcohol, weed, and sweat mixed in the air. it was disgusting. you’ll never understand how he enjoys going to these things.

you tried avoiding any sort of contact with anyone but ended up having to push past people anyway. some random chick had even spilled some of her drink on you. sure, she apologized hastily, but you ignored her and continued looking for aiku.

and there he was.

standing on a table, being the life of the party.

he didn't drink much.

but when he did, he drank like it was his last day on earth.

you reluctantly walked up to the table, holding on to your keys as tightly as you could, as if they were the one thing grounding you.

“aiku.” you called.

he continued his conversation with the people in front of him. you assumed he didn’t hear you, so you began preparing yourself to call his name a little louder.

as if on cue, you heard him yell out, “y/n!”

the people around him turned to look at you.

“aiku, get down.” you spoke through lightly clenched teeth.

you thought this would be a quick and easy ‘let's go!’ and ‘ok!’, but you now knew it wouldn't be. it never had been before, so you don’t know why you’d been expecting any different this time. you needed to stop assuming.

at least he did get down. he walked up to you with a funny expression on his face. “have you been drinking?” he asked.

it was then that you noticed you reeked of alcohol. “no, there was–”

you were cut off by the music suddenly stopping and screams filling the room.

“some bitch called the cops!” a voice yelled.

you took a deep breath. “fuck,” you muttered, “aiku, we have to leave now . you can’t be caught here.”

if he were to be caught at some stupid party like this, drinking underage, it could ruin his future.

the both of you looked around the house. an officer stood at the front door calling for backup, as the back exit was crowded with people trying to leave.

you pulled aiku’s arm, rushing upstairs. you stopped at the first window at the end of the hallway. you opened it.

“okay. i know this is pretty high, but just…” you trailed off. you don’t know how to use words of encouragement.

“chill. i’m not afraid of heights” he leaned on the wall.

“stop acting so casual! hurry! and i know you aren’t, just don’t be an idiot and fall. you have to be extra careful considering your state.”

“yeah yeah” he climbed out of the window.

it was slightly quiet. you turned around once you heard footsteps rushing up the stairs, along with the static of a walkie-talkie.

i can’t believe i’m doing this, you thought as you took a deep breath and quickly turned back around to shut the window. i’m gonna kill him if he fucking falls.

when you turn around again, you’re met with the face of an officer.

you were sure you heard a thud from outside. you visualized aiku rolling down the roof in continuous thumps, and then landing on the grass with a final, softer thud.

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you'd imagined going to jail before for many different reasons and you'd be lying if you said it never crossed your mind that you'd have to go to jail because of aiku.

if you could kill him, you would.

in the cop car, you thought of elaborate plans to murder him in the cruelest ways possible. again, not that you actually would. it's aiku.

and, you know. you had to re-emphasize that in your head just in case this cop happened to be a mind reader and was hearing every thought you had.

you kept looking out of the window. at the moment, it was funny seeing the cop lights flash red and blue and seeing hordes of people in the street run from whatever they were doing, though you were also hoping none of them would get arrested since you didn’t want to spend the car ride seated next to a stranger.

---

you had to spend the night in a little cell and god, you had to pee but there was no way you were going to piss in a place with a free for all view. more than one is a crowd and this was not an orgy.

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community service. court-ordered community service.

you got inside aiku’s car.

just a few days ago, he’d shown up at your door during an ungodly hour of the night, apologizing profoundly over a dozen times until you finally said you forgave him. (you’d already forgiven him the night of the incident, while you were in the jail cell.)

he was driving you to the facility where you were supposed to… do service to your community? you don’t even know what the place is. aiku, out of pure “generosity” (more like guilt), had decided to sign up along with you.

the first floor was the dressmaking section. it was filled with dressmaker's dummies and naked mannequins. you cast a look at him, already knowing the vulgar jokes he’d make before he even began speaking.

“hey, i didn’t say anything”

“but you thought it.”

the both of you took the elevator to get to floor c, as instructed by the sticky note in your pocket. the smell of burnt food immediately met your nostrils as you stepped out of the elevator.

the entire room was built like a large kitchen,

you turned to look at aiku, but he’d already been looking at you, equally as confused.

“you must be the new people!” a man with a chef hat exclaimed once he noticed you and aiku.

---

you were stuck washing dishes, or as aiku liked to call it, “busboy duty.”

at least gloves were given to you.

you died inside a little at the thought of touching dirty dishwater.

the good news, though, is that as soon as you’re done with the dishes, you get to join aiku and the others out in the kitchen, cooking actual food.

the bad news? you weren’t sure if the good news was actually good news because you’re a terrible cook.

---

you were next to aiku, watching him knead the remaining dough. he told you to cut the pork while he focused on getting the dough right.

he was surprisingly good at cooking.

you know, considering most of the time he’s eating spicy ramen. cup noodles, to be specific.

“if you take a picture, it’ll last longer” he teased.

you scoffed, but you didn’t say anything. you only continued to chop away.

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the past 2 months passed by quicker than you realized and you finally completed your 100 hours of community service.

you were just about to sleep when as if on cue, you received a call. of course, you already knew who it was, and by the time you knew it, you were already out the front door.

---

sometimes it genuinely pisses you off. not just because you’re the one he calls– (and you’re always the one he calls) – but because when he drinks, you’re always the one who has to take care of the mess. and you’d also thought he learned his lesson after last time, but of course he hadn't.

he stumbled into your car, without a word.

you had the radio playing at a low volume, making up for the silence in the car.

“you know, throughout the entirety of these 2 months, i haven’t slept with anyone” he blurted. as if he just had to clarify that.

“i know, oliver.”

the car was silent for a while until he spoke up again.

“i’m hungry.”

“great, what do you want me to do about it? i’m dropping you off straight home”

“can we get food?” he asks, “please?”

fine. fine. you answer only in your head.

you stay silent, but he hums happily, knowing you gave in.

---

you stop at the first food truck you see.

you walked while he followed behind and the both of you waited in line.

once it was your turn, you turned to oliver to ask him what he wanted.

first, you had expected him to make some sort of move on the lady, but he didn’t– which if you had to admit, weirded you out.

second, usually, he would order, but right now, the only thing you wanted to do was get this over with and go home.

third, you might as well order something for yourself.

you turned back to the lady taking the order and said, “two pizza pretzels, and two dr.peppers.”

“alrighty, cash or card?”

“card,” oliver answered for you while taking out his wallet.

the woman told both to wait by the side.

“excuse me?” the concession lady called for your attention, “we only have one pizza pretzel left. i’m sorry about that, but is there anything else you’d be interested in getting? or would you like a refund?”

“a refund is fine.”

the lady handed you the drinks and the single pizza pretzel, “have a nice day, the two of you!”

“man, that sucks. here” he extended his hand, offering you the pretzel.

“no, you paid. you can have it”

“but i owe you”

“you don’t”

he did want the pizza pretzel a lot , but he also wanted you to have it. so he did the next best thing. he split the pizza pretzel in half, “okay then still, i want you to have it.”

you happily took the other half of the pretzel, “thanks.”

once inside the car, you changed the radio station. then again. and again.

“you could just connect your phone instead”

“don’t feel like it.”

you finally stopped at some random classic rock station, having vaguely recognized the song.

you heard a tap, then another beside you, and another above you, and then multiple in all directions. you realize it started to rain. the rain quickly turned into a heavy downpour.

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you were initially going to deny oliver’s request.

but your apartment was pretty far and the rain was supposed to worsen.

he suggested you stay at his place, just in the meantime.

“just… just until the rain stops” you tell him.

---

“it’s surprisingly clean in here” you observed out loud.

oliver crashed on the sofa as soon as he stepped inside. “yeah, had to” his voice was muffled by the pillows, “my family visited. birthday stuff. higher flight prices in the summer and stuff.”

“hm.” you took off your boots, shivering slightly, due to the cool air conditioning.

“you can change if you want. you know where my stuff is.” he yawned.

“ you should change too. you’ll get sick or something.”

you changed first. you took the first clothes you grabbed, and by the time you were back, he was sitting up on the sofa. he went to his room to change, but he didn’t return.

you knocked on his door, unsure of whether you should open the door without notice or not.

when he didn’t reply, you slowly pushed the door open, and you found him sleeping soundly in his bed. he was snoring lightly, but you found it (endearing? amusing? you weren’t even sure of the right word yourself.) you quickly snapped a picture, then went back to the living room.

you checked the time on your phone: < 2 am>

it was still raining. not as heavy as before, but still.

you were unsure of whether to go home or not. you stood up and paced around the living room in a circle. you made a beeline to the pantry. it was stacked with spicy ramen cups which didn’t surprise you in the slightest.

you put water in the cup and microwave it for 3 minutes. to be fair, thinking on an empty stomach wasn’t ideal. you sat on the counter, listening to the tv play in the background.

*BEEPBEEPBEEP*

you rushed to the microwave, quickly pressing the ‘stop’ button. you’d meant to stop it when there were still a few seconds left, but you ended up forgetting.

at least oliver was a heavy sleeper.

you skipped through random channels on the tv, yawning, and eventually stopping at one playing some wild kratts episode about snakes.

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you opened your eyes, suddenly sitting up after you remembered where you were.

you didn’t remember falling asleep– you didn’t even remember being too tired (tired enough to fall asleep.) the tv was off, the cup of noodles was gone, and there was a blanket covering you.

you took notice of the sticky note placed on the tv remote on the small table in front of you.

you grabbed it, squinting at the terrible handwriting. it read:

“thanks for helping (again). i meant it. i owe you (again). i’ll be at practice by the time you see this, so make sure you lock the door. "

you snickered as you noticed the handwriting getting smaller. he started running out of space because he wrote too big at first. you continued reading:

“p.s. i made you breakfast (even though i was running late) i added a shit ton of chocolate chips, you’re welcome.

p.p.s. i love you, but don’t eat my ramen again.”

the pancakes were cold, but you ate them with a smile on your face.

#blue lock #bllk manga #blue lock manga #bllk #oliver aiku #bllk aiku #bllk oliver #oliver x reader #aiku x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock oliver aiku #blue lock oliver #blue lock aiku #blue lock anime #bllk x you #blue lock x you

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comradekatara · 2 days

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Hi! Sorry if this has been asked before/you’ve answered this before, but I’m curious what you think of how Sokka acts just… overall.

To me, he’s always read as being someone who’s emotionally repressed, and doesn’t quite know how to deal with his emotions and blames himself for a lot, and micromanages as a way to try and overcompensate for things in his past that have been out of his control. (And he’s definitely a prodigy. I don’t think that, especially after the massacre, the southern water tribe would have many scrolls to read on, so it’s my personal hc to believe he taught himself physics lmao. But even without that, definitely a prodigy.) Who is, unfortunately, doomed by the narrative. But he’s still a loving guy, and very protective over his family.

But I’d love to see how someone else sees it! He’s one of my favorites ever lmao.

sorry for leaving this ask to fester in my inbox for over a month (hastily shoves away the asks i’ve been sitting on for multiple years) but at the time I had received a bunch of asks about sokka’s tormented psyche in quick succession, and I was trying to get through those first before approaching this broader, more open-ended question. I mean, obviously you could always just peruse my sokka tag, because at this point I’ve clocked so many hours analyzing him that it’s actually quite dire, and I’m pretty sure that you already have. but if I was to distill “sokka’s whole deal” into a few key sentences, I would first emphasize that his survivor’s guilt/martyr complex really underscores who he is and how he operates in any given situation in a crucial way.

I don’t think any of what you said in this ask is remotely incorrect, for the record, but focalizing the formative traumas that defined him: his mother’s sacrifice, and his father then passing that mantle onto him (in fairness, not deliberately on hakoda’s part, but when kya sets such a blatant precedent for what it means to “protect your sister,” it’s hard not to internalize that logic). he feels personally responsible and implicated in every single thing that could go wrong, because unlike katara, who (very understandably) gets angry when bad things happen and are done to her, sokka gets guilty. he was never able to process his grief in a remotely healthy way, so he has internalized that his singular role above all else is to die so that others may live, without ever actually acknowledging that this mentality is a byproduct of his trauma (because, like you said, he is absurdly repressed), and he feels guilty every time he is unable to prevent anything bad that happens to anyone he cares about, whether it’s remotely his fault or not.

he wants control over every situation because he feels responsible and thus guilty no matter what happens. not only is control the one thing he has, but he’s even more controlling when leaving his tribe because unlike with his grandmother, whom he trusts, he does not trust 99% of people on the planet, and is constantly wary of any ulterior motives they may have (which is why it’s a very good thing that all his friends are so sincere it’s almost concerning), or just their sheer stupidity leading them (and him by association) into trouble (in fact I think sokka would far rather ally with a two faced bitch than with an idiot, because at least you can reason with a two faced bitch). as katara rightfully points out (frequently), sokka is a paranoid cynic, but it’s hard not to be a paranoid cynic when the last time you had any shred of hope whatsoever is when you thought the southern raiders were retreating from your village and then you went home to find your mother’s charred corpse in the living room.

moreover, his trauma at the hands of imperialist violence has informed so much of who he is to the point that he genuinely feels that he isn’t, because that’s how throughly he has been dehumanized by the fire nation’s colonial project. it’s not just that he feels worthless, it’s that he feels unpersoned. due to assuming the mantle of protector before he was old enough to form a coherent sense of self, that role became his entire sense of self, and now he feels that he is nothing more than a shield with which he can protect katara (and others, but mainly katara), and can’t detach himself from that role even though it’s unhelpful and unhealthy, because (in his mind, at least) it is truly all he has.

so in summary, he’s a paranoid, miserable, depressed misanthrope who is repressing a fuck ton of grief and trauma to simply get through the day, including the fact that he feels it is his duty to die for his people and his loved ones—especially katara, to the point that he has an unhealthy codependent attachment towards her because he stakes his entire identity to her existence—and has no sense of self beyond his role as provider, protector, and (inevitable) martyr. obviously that’s just what his deal is psychologically, which is different from his personality (cue the, here I was thinking he’s just a fun, silly guy!) but you will also never get anywhere in understanding sokka if you think that he somehow has less trauma than katara, rather than the fact that unlike katara, who is able to process her emotions in an open and healthier way, sokka simply ignores it. but he also does a pretty bad job of hiding it most of the time, because he literally acts like a trapped prey animal in basically every situation once you look past the sarcasm and witticisms that provide his favorite tried and true coping/deflection mechanism. you just have to care enough to look past the surface, which most people don’t, including himself.

#luriuan #asks #sokka #analysis #obviously I have so much more to say but I’m pretty sure I’ll never stop stuffing the sokka + analysis tags with my thoughts so … tbc ..#cptsd fish…. swimming in circles #hes just a nice silly guy who kills people sometimes don’t worry about it

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tenitchyfingers · 4 months

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“Times magazine put down your music and said Day Tripper is about a prostitute and Norwegian Wood is about a lesbian what’s your answer to that”

“We were just trying to write songs about prostitutes and lesbians that’s all”

#badum tssss #macca #the beatles #ask stupid questions get stupid answers bitch #insane how homosexuality was still illegal btw

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itsnotalemon · 6 months

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Nothing quite like a coworker getting pissed off at you to make you wanna front flip off a building

#im just been getting really anxious lately #my 3 of my 4 goldfish have this mystery infection #i thought i finally got them over it #so i moved them back into their tank once they started feeling better after finding a medication that actually worked #but its been only 2 fucking days and they are showing signs of stress again #so now im asking all my coworkers questions and none of them really know what to do #and i feel so stupid for asking questions they dont have answers to #and then my fucking old ass co worker has just been a passive aggressive ass hole to me until he left #i tried to be friendly and ask how his day was going and he brushed me off #i went to go help a customer cut something and he would like... pace up and down the isles #and when i asked for help and didnt understand what he was trying to explain to me and that i wanted him to show me #he just stared at me like im fucking stupid #and then #i said id clean one sections of aquariums tonight cuz it gets slow once im the only one in my department #and he got pissed and me to get it done and stop standing around #and like #i get that #but he notoriously does jack shit all fucking day #he probably got bitched out again but really? you wanna talk to me about time management when you hardly clean a sump a day #puts me on edge #now im worried that im not doing enough #and im too slow #and im just some lazy asshole #i need some time away from people #lemon post #vent

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monstermoviedean · 1 year

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highly underrated skill to be able to communicate with people who have different levels of technical knowledge without being condescending or shitty about it

#i think i'm a reasonably intelligent person most of the time but some of the jargon around here makes me feel so stupid #and most of the time it's not necessary!#using simple clear straightforward language will not kill you and will not reflect on your intelligence #anyway i just got done scoring this proposal and it gave me a fucking headache #and like. english is my first language AND i'm familiar with the content AND i've worked with these people before #and i still don't know what the fuck they are trying to say!#it makes me feel so stupid to say it but if i think if you're asked a direct question you should directly answer it!#I spent like two hours trying to read between the lines to see if they were alluding to/hinting at stuff but jesus.#call me old-fashioned but if we ask 'how is your work aligned with x' and you don't clearly say anything about it...#you don't get full credit.#I don't think that's unreasonable!!!#one of the most valuable skills i developed as a teacher tbh.#because if your shit is too complicated for your students they will bitch at you about it and they have every right to do so

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fluffyblue-multifandommess · 1 year

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if someone took me into a creepy ass room, hooked me up to a lie detector, blasted projector light right into my eyes and asked me to read an apology statement when i did nothing wrong, i would simply not read it. sorry to helly but i'm different

#blue fandom ramblings #severance 2022 #severance #im watching this now #instead of. getting caught up on the billion things im behind on #or finishing a fic i started last week #blue personal ramblings #but like i do not apologise when i have done nothing wrong. you can try to pressure me as much as you want but i wont do it #last week i was non verbal for nearly the whole week and someone tried to make me talk be pulling me into a room to #'discuss what's going on' and they started by asking me a non-polar question #i guess he thought my non-verbality was a choice? and by waiting me out he could get me to talk? lmao think again bitch #i sat there for however many minutes. waiting HIM out. i was fully making little scenarios in my head for my ongoing WIP #by the time HE lost his stupid little game and finally asked me a question i could answer by nodding/shaking me head #yea i couldve made some sort of gesture indicating i needed to write. to respond to him #but here's the thing. im a STUBBORN BITCH #play stupid games with me? lose like the stupid little idiot you are.#ANYWAYS my point is. in helly's shoes i simply would Not read the statement.#ive got all day bitch. ive got the rest of my life. bitch. fucking try me.#queued

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fairy-ganj-mother · 2 months

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why are all the veterinarians and vet techs in my life some of the best people but then I can't find a vet office that doesn't totally piss me off for my cat🥲

#apollo really needs his other mom tbh #poor diabetic baby cannot find a vet who cares enough to tell me what the fuck to do to get his glucose curve #even when ive paid high fees and gone thru all the right channels to ask #he's been diagnosed for over 6 months and we almost have his first curve done #his alphatrak didnt work #we put a libre on him but they wouldnt just send me the link for the data export instructions???#they asked a bunch of condescending questions like if i took any readings while it was on him #bitch of fucking course i did #are you fucking kidding me #and then said to just write down the data - date time glucose - for every reading #there are 110 readings???? what a goddamn waste of my time? bc i know the app can probs export all this in 2 seconds????#also there's data in between the readings that they wouldnt get from me writing it down????????#so stupid #my questions were valid but for some reason could not be answered until the third person that i talked to?????#and also i called and then they didnt know so i got texts later and then i was like uhhh you clearly dont understand the q #and asked them to call me back today #also bc it was 8pm and i was stoned and was like wtf im not doing this rn #so today.... they text me again! and start with oh we see you asked for a call but we like text #and im like yall must like miscommunication bc that's all that's happening #ugh im so annoyed #i just want my cat to be taken care of and his diabetes to be better managed!#im doing my best like his last vet was super hands off and weird once he got diagnosed so we switched #and i told them my issues and they were like wow thats odd #but this only miscommunicating via text shit is not cool #ugh okay this is so long for a rant abt my cats vet #but he is my world and he is unwell so it's really important to me and frustrating as hell too #t

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iicarused · 4 months

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##my wife, my wife, my wife, my wife

y!vox x ex!reader / alastor x reader also because he stole vox’s bitch if you squint

part ii

synopsis: from this ask / reader is vox’s ex and he’s not too keen of the separation — you were supposed to come back to him! not run around with his rival and get rid of his only access of looking after you (removing any/all electronics from your life)

beware: DARK THEMES / heavy yandere aspects, obsession (vox’s end), territorial aspects, manipulation, implications of a toxic relationship / let me know if i missed anything!

he’s been watching you. what, did you think you could just leave? no, that will not do for him! you’re his wife, his lover, his other half that he cannot live without! you brought him fame and so much fortune with just your pretty face.

through the camera of your phone, the security cameras that litter hell, he’s been keeping an eye on you. however, you know that.

after a year of maintaining a relationship with one of hells overlords, you finally snapped and broke it off. the press were eating it right up. “y/n, can you tell us why you and vox are no more?” “y/n, who broke it off first?” “y/n, is there a chance you’ll both get together again?” you laughed at the last question

there was only one place in all of hell to hide — a place where no electronic bothered to exist — hazbin hotel

you came tired. hair a mess and a fluffed robe over your shoulders. “i’m begging of you, please take me in, i prefer learning some shit redemption arc than to deal with a crazy ex.” you cried. of course charlie said yes.

since then, vox has been searching for you:

“i swear to FUCK — !! “ vox heaved. when valentino walked in, the tv host seemed to pause on his theatrics. “she couldn’t have gone far.”

“face it, at this rate she’s done with you.” the moth insisted while getting comfortable on the couch.

but those words didn’t sit right with vox. the multiple screens in front of him flicked through different channels, eager just to find a clue of your whereabouts.

to say vox was pissed when finding out where you were was an understatement. a camera zooming in on the sight of you having some fresh air — right outside that stupid hotel

picking at a daisy, someone else came into the frame. alastor knelt to your side with a cup of tea, or so he assumed, sitting down next to you while basking underneath the stars. vox couldn’t hear any audio since the radio demon seemed to mess up the frequency, but he could see that familiar smile that pulled at your lips

you used to smile at him just like that

in less than a day, vox came straight to the hotel. demanding for you to come out. come on home! you both can work through it! this is just another bump in the road, there’s no need to hide!

from the balcony, your gaze settles on vox down below. you almost feel sorrowful and your heart begins to ache. sometimes you miss him, and sometimes you miss the comfort of his arms. he was a hurricane just as he was a summers day, and that was the man you fell in love with. you knew his love was sick, but that was expected from demons… right? not his though, it was far too gone to be considered a daydream.

“doll, we were meant to be!” vox pleaded, his gaze never leaving yours.

you never answered to his pleas.

“it’s that fucking radio demon, right!?” vox accused. here comes a tantrum.

you turned to face away.

“please, we were going to be overlords — together!” back to broken promises you were unsure if it were true.

a yandere is someone who is in love with you, and that’s a dream come true for anyone who wishes for love. but god, do you wish it wasn’t you.

vox never stopped sending gifts to the hotel after that. nor has he stopped coming by to the building just to try and convince you to leave. his heart is aching, and only you are his medicine.

#ᥫ᭡.#yandere!vox #vox x reader #vox x yn #vox x you #vox imagine #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader if you squint

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starlooove · 1 year

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why r u reblogging from terfs

why r u being so vague

#who’s the terf?#i really would genuinely love to know I don’t check the blog of every person I reblog art or smth from?#I dont like those bitches but I also struggle to identify those bitches 😭#genuinely tho if I ever do reblog from a terf #if this ask isn’t someone being stupid or whatever #PLEASE let me know y’all #i hate anons like this so much no offense #not bc of the content but bc if the logistics #correct me if I’m wrong #but u don’t get a notif that ur question has been answered on anon right?#so what the hell was this person tryna accomplish 😭#unless they’re checking every nth amount of time to see if I responded #they can’t possibly know what I responded #so all I have is that there’s a possibility in the last week that I put a TERF in my space #and literally no way to go back and change lest I check every account I’ve reblogged in the last who knows how long #which I might do honestly I get obsessive Abt shit like this #but anyways #context pls #thx 😝

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yourgothiccqueen · 2 months

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LN4 - “Formula One Sucks”

Summary: A grumpy reader meets her match.

Parings : Lando Norris x Female Reader

Warnings: none except swearing - fluff and silliness!

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

Masterlist

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“I think just don’t give a shit about it!”

“That’s because you’re a boring cow!”

Y/N sat crossed legged on the grass outside her tent, sun beating down on her face as she half heartedly sipped on a capri sun. Spending the night lying on the floor had left her aching and exhausted, and she feared spending the day watching ‘cars go round in circles’ would truly tip her over the edge.

“I just don’t get why I had to come.” Y/N groaned. “You know loads of other people.”

“None of whom were free at short notice on a Sunday!” Y/N’s friend Annie exclaimed.

Y/N groaned dramatically. She was already hating the fact that she was going to be spending the day trying to shelter from the heat whilst pushing her way through crowds of obsessive fans.

“It’s the three things I hate the most - cars, people and outside.”

“Oh shush, you had to come because you’re such a joyous, positive influence in my life who I knew would jump at the opportunity!” Annie said, sarcastically. “Now stop being so bloody miserable.”

Y/N scowled and playfully swatted Annie on the leg.

“You’re a bitch, you know that?”

“I know. Now drink your capri sun and cheer the fuck up.”

—————————————————————-

By 12pm Y/N had not, in fact, cheered the fuck up. She was truly finished with the world of formula one. So far she had queued for the loo, listened to some very loud music and spent an extortionate amount of money on a relatively small (and cold) hot dog.

Annie had long disappeared, claiming to have spotted some guy called ‘Fernando’ before rushing off into the crowd with a squeal, promising to meet Y/N at their seats later on.

It was beginning to get all too much for little Y/N L/N (😉) as she made her way throughout the bustle of people, eager to finally find someplace quiet to eat.

Eventually she found herself going through a set of doors (which definitely did not say staff only) as she found herself a quiet corner.

“Perfect.”

Before she could even take a bite, she heard a cough from behind her.

“Ermmm, what are you doing?”

Turning around, Y/N found herself faced with a relatively young man, wearing an orange cap with curls of brown peeking out the bottom. He looked strangely familiar, but Y/N couldn’t put her finger on it, and quite frankly she was too hangry to care.

“I’m eating my hot dog.”

The man smirked and let out a small laugh.

“Yeah, I can see that.”

Y/N shrugged and said “ask stupid questions, get stupid answers” before taking a bite.

The man raised an eyebrow slightly, intrigued by the passive aggressive woman in front of him, who seemingly didn’t know who he was.

“Are you here for the race? Or do you work here?” He questioned.

“I’m here for the race. Are you?”

The curly haired man smirked slightly, letting out a little laugh.

“Yeah, I suppose you could say that.”

Y/N crammed another bite of hot dog into her mouth “Well, enjoy. It’s all a load of crap if you ask me though.”

A look of intrigue on his face, he asked “what makes you say that?”

“It’s just boring!” Y/N exclaimed. “Car goes zoom, someone wins, hurrah - so bloody what?! What’s the point?”

The man looked back at her, a look of mild bewilderment and irration written across his face.

“Well yeah, the car is one aspect of it, sure. But it’s the drivers that bring that passion, that excitement every week. They’re the ones who shake things up and keep things fresh. They’re the ones who make it worth watching.” The man let out a small cough. “I mean, that’s my opinion anyway.”

“Hmm. So which driver should I look out for today then?” Y/N queried.

The curly haired man shot her a questionable look.

“Don’t you know the names of any of the drivers?”

Y/N shrugged “I know Lewis Hamilton.”

He let out a laugh and another smirk again “well, that’s a start I suppose.”

Y/N was getting sick of this man smirking at her. But then again, it was a very nice smirk. And he did seem like a very nice man.

“So, what are you doing here if you hate formula one?” The man queried, arms folded against his chest.

“My friend’s a big fan, and her boyfriend who was was meant to be coming has got the flu.” Y/N sighed. “As much as I hate being here, I’d feel even shitter if she came on her own.”

The man let out a small smile “Well, that’s nice of you to do that for your friend.”

He suddenly glanced down at Y/N’s lips, and appeared to take a step closer.

Was this mysterious, attractive stranger about to kiss her?

His thumb reached up to her chin and she couldn’t help but look up into his eyes.

God he had beautiful eyes.

She felt his thumb touch her skin with the gentlest of touches, and her eyes fluttered shut.

He smelt *heavenly*. What aftershave was he wearing?

“Sorry, you had some ketchup on your chin.” He let out a soft giggle.

Y/N’s eyes snapped open, and she felt herself return to reality.

“Oh!”

The mystery man let out a giggle as his thumb brushed against her chin - “all gone.”

She laughed. “Thank you. It’s not everyday a stranger wipes ketchup off your face. Did we just get to second base?”

The man let out a laugh (it’s a very nice laugh).

“Sure. I’ll count it if you do.”

An urgent shout sounded from a door behind them.

“I’ve got to go. It was nice chatting to you though.” The man stated. “And to answer your question, look out for Lando Norris today. I’ve heard he’s one to watch!”

“Will do.” Y/N called, still slightly stunned from the interaction.

A few moments passed before a security clad gentlemen rounded the corner.

“Oi, you shouldn’t be back here! Get back out the front!”

“Relax - I’ve finished my hot dog, I’m going!”

———————————————————

The rest of the afternoon was a blur, as Y/N sat close to Annie, eyes fixated on a certain McLaren as he reached his final lap of the race.

“And Lando Norris has finished in P2!”

Cheers erupted from around Y/N and she found herself joining it. Turned out that ‘cars, and people and outside’ could be pretty exciting - who knew?!

“Fuck yeah!” Annie shouted, jumping up and down.

The McLaren driver removed his helmet before waving up to the crowds, a grin plastered on his face.

Y/N’s own grin left her face.

“Oh shit. That’s the guy I met earlier!”

“What?” Annie exclaimed. “You met Lando Norris?”

“Yes! Is he a big deal?” Y/N stated, panic rising.

Annie glanced around them, signalling to the cheering crowds - “Duh! What did you say to him?”

Y/N gulped - “I shoved a hot dog in my mouth and told him formula one is crap.”

Annie stared. No words left her mouth.

Y/N could feel her face turning red. “I then proceeded to ask him if he was going to the race.”

A quick, sharp laugh left Annie’s mouth, before she fell into floods of hysterics.

“Holy shit! What is wrong with you?!”

Y/N could feel herself cringing.

“Oh god, I don’t know! Lots apparently!”

She glanced down to Lando again, to find him smirking up at her. He winked, before turning back towards his team.

“Oh my god, I’m never going outside again.” Y/N cringed. “This is all your fault!”

“My fault?” Annie laughed. “I didn’t tell an F1 driver that his sport is crap!”

Before Y/N could respond, she felt a tap on her shoulder. A uniformed worker pressed a piece of paper into her hand.

“I’ve been asked to give this to you.” The woman smiled, before walking away.

“What is it?” Annie questioned, eyeing the paper.

Y/N unwrapped it, finding quickly scrawled words,

Hello Grumpy,

I hope the race was enough to change your mind about formula one. Here’s my number if you ever fancy a hot dog or a debate over ‘cars going zoom’.

LN xx

“What. The. Fuck.” Annie’s eyes widened.

Y/N grinned.

“Maybe I do like F1 after all!”

#lando norris #landonorris #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #lando Norris x reader #lando norris one shot #lando Norris oneshot #lando Norris imagine #lando Norris fanfic #FYP #lando Norris x female reader #f1 imagine #lando Norris x you #f1 smut #lando Norris fluff

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dolldefiler · 1 month

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[Requested in an ask, forgive the lack of formatting]

C/W: Manipulative, possessive

There you are, you stupid, disobedient bitch. How did I find you? I have a fucking tracker in your necklace, you brainless pair of tits. The real question is what the fuck are you doing here? How dare you go behind my back, coming to this place of filth and hedonism, this night club of all places? You even left your phone behind to throw me off?

I don’t give two shits that you’re hanging out with your girlfriends. Can’t you see there are guys here? Are you trying to finally cheat on me? Is that it? Is that why you’re wearing this disgustingly low skirt? Come here. Shut the FUCK UP and COME. HERE.

No, I’m not fingering your cunt, you dumb cunt. I’m checking to see if you’re wet. You are. I can’t believe it. Did looking at those other guys really get you that wet? Fuck, I should leave you right here, drive back, and throw your shit to the curb. No, stop fucking pleading. Look at these fucking fishnets and tight, slutty tank top. I told you that you’re only allowed to wear this inside the house. Now you just look like some common whore.

Get on my fucking cock. Now. I’m going to go through your phone in front of you, and if I see a single fucking guy on it, I’ll dump you right here. If not, I’ll pump my cum in you and drive home. Now let’s see.

Girl, girl, girl. Who the fuck is Sam? Your co-worker? That’s not what I fucking meant. A girl? Good.

Girl. Girl. Me. Girl.

Nothing suspicious here, I suppose. But I’m still disappointed in you. God, if this cunt weren’t nearly as tight, I’d have ditched you immediately. If you didn’t have this insane rack, I’d have left years ago.

God, shit, ughhh, wow. Are you fucking milking my cock harder to apologise? Keep at it. I might even forgive you if you make me cum hard enough. That’s a good fucking whore. Keep going. I can’t believe you’d fucking ditch me to come here. Am I not enough? Is that it? ANSWER ME. Do you just hate me? Be honest.

You don’t? Then why the fuck are you— FUCK, ughh-- why the fuck are you trying to be such a disappointment then? Running away like this? Do I not give you enough freedom when I let you choose your aprons? When I let you choose what’s for dinner? That’s right, cunt. I own you. I. OWN. YOU. Don’t you dare think of running away ever again or I’ll be extremely angry.

Aaah, god, now hold still. I’m going to fucking cum in you. I’m going to pour so much fucking spunk in you that you’ll never even think of another man again, you cheating whore. FUCK, I’M POPPING!

God, get your pathetic ass back to the car. We’re leaving this place. Which slut convinced you to leave me? I want her deleted and blocked. Don’t ever talk to her again. Is that clear?

#manipulation kink #cnc free use #public kink #obsessive love #r@pe fantasy #degradation k1nk #rough kink #rough cnc #cnc k!nk #humiliation kink

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wildernessuntothemselves · 1 month

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Class clown

class clown gyu who for some reason has it out for nerd!reader and finally she gets sick of it and puts him in his place. warnings: dom!reader, sub!gyu, handjob, blowjob, dirty talk, pathetic gyu as always

"What is your problem?" You snap at Beomgyu, the class clown and the bane of your existence. He is always on your case, making fun of you in front of everyone. Today you made a mistake answering the proferssor's question and he immediatley jumped on it, humiliating you in front of the entire class. "Why do you have to mess with me?"

"Because you're fun to mess them." He answers simply, a huge infuriating grin on his face. You look really funny when you're angry."

You don't know what came over you, you're not usually a violent person but seeing his stupid cocky face makes you lose it and you shove him against the wall, slamming your hands on either side of his head to trap him in. "Do I look funny now?

But to your chagrin, he keeps grinning, not phased one bit. "Kinda."

You're so frustrated you could cry. There was nothing you have ever thought of or done that got him to leave you alone. He has been doing this to you for years, even back when you were at school. In fact you had been so excited to go to uni just to escape him, only to see his stupid face at your first lecture and your entire dream of escape came crashing down.

"What? The smart mouth finally has got nothing to say?" He goads when you stay quiet too long for his liking.

Your vision turns red. He makes you so frustrated and pent up, you would do anything to shut him up. Maybe that's why you resorted to doing something crazy.

Grabbing his face, you push your lips against his, intending to strong-arm him into silence. After all if his lips are busy, he can't mouth off anymore.

You don't know how you expected him to react to that--freeze in shock? Push you off? Call you crazy? You don't know but you certainly didn't expect him to almost immediately start kissing you back. It threw you off so hard you actually pull away from the kiss yourself.

But as soon as you pull back, he's running his mouth again. "Damn, nerd, looks like your mouth is good for somethjng other than eating the professor's ass."

"You're so fucking.. ugh!" You groan, shutting him up again. But this time you don't just use your mouth, instead you raise his shirt up, feeling up his body to his nipples and grabbing them between your thumbs and index fingers and pulling on them a bit roughly, making him gasp and break away from the kiss with a wet smack.

"Oh god," He groans, eyes fluttering as you roll his nipples between your fingers.

"You like that, brat?" You spit, happy to finally be getting the upper hand for the first time in your years of being tormented by Beomgyu.

"Fuck yeah." He groans and tries to reach out to touch your own tits.

"Don't fucking touch me, brat." You hiss at him, "If you touch me, I stop."

"You're being such a killjoy." He protests but it's hard for him to keep a steady voice when your fingers are playing with his clearly sensitive nipples like that, and even more so when one of your hands slips into his loose pants to palm his already very hard cock.

"You look like you're enjoying it enough." You mutter, twisting your hand up to the head of his cock, making him moan out.

"Fucking hell...Are you gonna fuck me?" He asks bluntly.

"Do you want me to fuck you, Gyu?" You ask, and any hesitency over the unfamiliar nickname vanishes as he shudders under your touch.

"If you're going to be handling my cock like that then I damn well expect to get a fuck out of it." He replies, still insolent despite his whimpering and frankly slutty moans.

"You're such a little bitch." You chastise, focusing your strokes on the head of his cock, aiming for maximum damage. "You think you deserve to get anywhere near my pussy after the shit you've pulled over me for years?"

He shrugs, trying to affect nonchalance but it's hard to but he's panting like a bitch for you. "Maybe if you get fucked good, you'd be a little less uptight.

Uptight! Just because you care about your future, that doesn't make you uptight. God, you hate him... but damn, does he looks fucking hot falling apart in your hands like that.

"And maybe if you were getting any attention on your cock apart from your own hand, you wouldn't be such an attention seeking slut." You jeer, getting down on your knees. "Now shut the fuck up or you won't get to cum at all."

"What--" He doesn't have time to formulate his question before you pull his pants down and wrap your mouth around his cock, sucking any retort right out of him.

"Oh, fuck, that's it." He arches his back, driving his cock further down your throat which you readily take, to his surprise.

"Fuck, where did you learn to suck dick like this?" He asks through his moans but you don't bother to answer him. You don't owe him an answer, you just want to shut the bitch up.

But Beomgyu is incapable of shutting up. "Have you been sucking dick on the down low? I didn't know the nerd is such a big slut. Thought you were a good girl."

You detach from his cock to retort, tearing a whine out of him which the idiot is too stupid to realize he is the cause of. "You're one to talk. Look how loudly you're moaning as soon as you get your dick wet. What? No one wants to fuck such a loudmouth?"

"Fuck you." He mutters, and you laugh. "You wish, baby." You smirk, bobbing your head down his cock again, going ruthlessly fast and getting the brat to writhe under you.

You think that would be the end of it but Beomgyu could die and his mouth would still be running. "Seriously, who are you fucking? Taehyun? Soobin? Don't tell me it's that manwhore Yeonjun?"

You pull off his dick in frustration, using your hand to jerk him off roughly instead. "Why do you fucking care who I fuck?"

"I don't care." He huffs, arching his back to push his cock further into your grip. "I just know they can't be fucking you good if you're still so uptight all the time. If you want a good time, I could give you the time of your life."

You burst out laughing, obviously bruising the boy's ego in the process but you don't care. And you don't even bother hiding your incredulity. "You? Do you even see yourself? I'm barely even moving my hand and you're fucking it like a dog in heat. Your dick is drooling all down my arm. You look like you're a few pumps away from creaming yourself. I don't think you'd even make it one stroke inside my pussy before you pop like a virgin."

"No, I'm not." He denies, trying to keep his hips still, clearly fighting with himself. "I can fuck you so good you'll screaming my name."

"You can? You can take hot, tight pussy until I cum? You can have me clench around your needy cock without emptying your balls inside me?" You reach your other hand out to cup his balls, massaging then gently between your fingers, making him suck in a shuddering breath. "You can hold back your hot cum until I'm ready to milk your cock? You won't just break and spurt your cum inside me as soon as you put it in?"

"Fuck, fuck, slow down." He gasps, trying to squirm away from your touch but you hold him tighter, jerking him off steadily.

"Why? Are you going to cum just from my hands? That's disappointing. I thought you wanted to give me the fuck of my life?" You cock your head to side, staring up at him condescendingly, making him shudder.

"Baby, please, slow down?"

"Baby?" You laugh. "Now I'm baby?"

"I can't take much more." He was jerking uncontrollably in your grip but you never let go, taking the hand on his balls off to press it against his lower tummy to hold him in place as you continue jerking off his now very red and slippery cock.

"Are you gonna cum?" You ask again and he nods, biting onto his lip harshly. "Yes, can I?"

You have to say you were taken aback at him suddenly asking for your permission to cum. You would have thought the brat would just do it with no warning. "Aw, baby is asking for permission to cum? If I knew it was this easy to get you to behave, I would have... well, actually I still wouldn't have touched you any sooner. But it's good to know how pathetic you really are."

"Fuck you." He repeats, voice strained in his effort to still hold back.

"You want me to say you can cum?" You tease, twisting your hand over the length of his cock slowly.

He nods. "Yes. Need it. Need it."

"Are you going to be good to me from now on?" You ask and he shakes his head. "You're too fun to tease."

"You are too." You counter, slowing your hand down, making him thrust his hips to try to get more of your touch so you smack his thigh in punishment. "Down, boy!"

"Baby, please!" He begs so sweetly, pining you with his pretty, brown eyes, his dick drooling in your grip.

"Are you going to be good from now on?" You tighten your grip around him as you deliberately move your hand up the entire length of his cock, feeling his precum dripping down your arm.

"Yes, yes, I'll be good. I'll be so good." He babbles, and you know he is lying his ass off, just wanting to say whatever would get you to let him cum, but even that makes you feel so fucking hot. To have that effect on your tormentor after all these years is a fucking head rush.

"God, you're a mess." You mutter, quickening your pace over his cock, making Beomgyu panic. "Wait, wait, can I cum? Can I cum?"

It's a little precious how much he panics over cumming without your explicit permission, so much so you decide to just give it to him, wanting to see the brat completely lose it in your grip.

"You can cum, brat." As soon as you utter the words--as if he was really waiting for them--he explodes, spurting rope after rope of cum down your arm and onto your chest.

"Thank you. Thank you, baby." He cries, emptying himself for you until he can no longer hold himself up anymore and collapses to the ground by your side.

But to your surprise and mild horror, Beomgyu takes a minute to calm himself down before he grabs his own cock and strokes himself to full hardness again, bearing through the pain of overstimulation for a reason that only becomes apparent to you after you ask, "What the hell are you doing, Beomgyu?"

"I promised I can fuck you good, didn't I?"

He really is insane.

____________________

#txt smut #beomgyu smut #sub!txt #sub!beomgyu #sub!idol #dom!reader #just a small unedited thing cuz I miss writing for gyu 😭#really wanna get out the next yamqn chapter but have no time at all #so take this messy thing as a compromise

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freedomfireflies · 7 months

Text

A-Mazing*

Summary: An extra for 404*

The one where you and Harry find yourselves lost in a corn maze together.

Word Count: 7.5k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, exhibitionism, size kink, Daddy kink, enemies dynamic, Harry being a little bitch 🫶

“Oh, absolutely not.”

Harry smirks as he turns to you, hands sliding into his hoodie pocket. “Gee, thanks.”

“No, I’m serious, I’m not getting stuck with you,” you argue, glancing toward the rest of the group that’s already heading inside the corn maze. “Seriously, please. Anybody else. I will take literally anybody else.”

“Well, you don’t get anybody else,” Harry snorts, much too smug for your liking. “You were late.”

“Yeah, and I was late because I was fixing your mistake,” you remind him. “It took me three hours to recode that sequence. And I’m still not finished��"

“Right, because it wasn’t a fucking mistake, Princess. The way I designed it was going to help it run three times more efficiently than the way Prescott suggested. And you just fucking undid it—"

“You weren’t asked to make it more efficient. You were told to do it the way the client wanted—”

“Well, the way the client wanted it was slow and stupid—”

“And you would be the authority on slow and stupid.”

Harry’s eyes narrow while his lips press into a thin line, looking quite incensed. “Very mature. Are we going in or what?”

“Fine,” you agree through a heavy exhale, shoving past him to head toward the entrance.

You have no idea why you even agreed to come in the first place. Sure, the idea of getting a few coworkers together for some fall fun was sweet, but truth be told, you don’t really care about any of these people outside of the office. You don’t care to see them, or get to know them, or hang out with them.

And the one person you do know happens to also be the one person you can’t stand.

Corn mazes are fun. Even pairing up to do them together is kind of exciting.

But with him? You’d rather get lost.

“All right, here’s your map,” the kind, older woman at the table says, handing you a piece of paper. “Answer the questions at each fork and follow the path according to your answer.”

You nod your understanding and offer a quick thank you before slipping past the tent and toward the beginning of the maze. The setting sun casts shadows across the field as you both make your way through the stocks.

You feel a sense of adventure as you make your way to the first checkpoint. Taking in the lingering scent of kettle corn somewhere off in the distance, and the excited chatter of the other people inside the maze. It’s exhilarating, and you feel a sense of purpose as you stride forward. Spurred on by a need to win – to do better than him.

And you hear Harry subtly huff from somewhere behind you, clearly annoyed with the way you’ve left him behind. “Real fucking mature,” he scoffs, and you can practically hear his eyes roll. “We’re supposed to be a team, Tinkerbell. You know, work together.”

“Well, I don’t want to be on a team with you,” you retort. “And we’ve never worked well together. As is evident by your complete lack of common sense and understanding of the system we’re trying to design.”

“Oh, this shit again—"

“Yes, this shit again. You’re costing us time and money by trying to prove you’re so much better than everyone else—”

“Well, I can’t exactly help it if I am, now, can I?”

You feel your expression fall as you spin on your heel to face him. “You’re fucking annoying, is what you are. It’s not my job to clean up after you. Okay, I’m not your mother, I’m not your babysitter. I am your equal. And it’s about fucking time you start treating me like it.”

Even in the dark, murky space, you can see a certain glimmer in his eye. One that challenges the frown on his face.

He studies you for a moment, eyes searching for a response. “Careful what you wish for, Princess.”

With that, he shoves past you and forges ahead into the maze. Leaving you to stare at his back with a glower.

You’re both silent as you approach the first fork, offering nothing more than looks of indignation and huffs of apathy as you raise your map and scan the question.

“What does WWW stand for in a website browser?” you read aloud before snorting. “World Wide Web. C.”

An easy question. You both know the answer, and there's no way he can argue with you.

So, instead, he says nothing. Merely glancing over the paper almost skeptically before heading toward the third row.

Pocketing the trivia questions, you chase after him. “So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? The silent treatment?”

Harry’s back stays to you as he slips between the stocks. “I’m not giving you the fucking silent treatment; I’m not twelve.”

“Then why aren’t you talking to me?”

“Because you’re a fucking brat.”

The vicious way he sneers the word sends a certain reaction down your spine, but you brush it away just as quickly as it appeared. “I thought I was your teammate.”

“You said it yourself, we’re not a team,” he retorts. “You’re not my babysitter, and you’re not my mother. Unless what you were really trying to say is that you want me to call you Mommy.”

You feel yourself hesitate, confused, and slightly startled by the suggestion. “Ew. Why would I want that?”

You see his shoulder lift and fall in a shrug. “I don’t know. You’ve always been a kinky little thing. Maybe it gets you off.”

“Oh, fuck you, I don’t have a mommy kink. Especially not with you.”

“Fine, a daddy kink then. Don’t think I forgot how eager you were to say it last time—”

“That was for you,” you hiss, once again glaring at his hooded back. “Okay, I was trying to see if you liked it, and you did—”

“Of course I did. It’s hot.”

“Sure, yeah. But I’m the kinky one?”

“I never said I wasn’t. I’m just saying, if you want me to call you mommy…all you have to do is ask.”

You come to the second fork, forcing the conversation to a halt as you feel your heart hammer in your chest. “Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Fine.”

You unfold the map and search for the next question. “What is cynophobia?”

“Easy. Fear of cats.”

“That’s ailurophobia, you dipshit. Cynophobia is a fear of dogs.”

“Dipshit. Classy. No, that’s real nice, Tink. Very romantic.”

“Well, it’s true. Look it up.”

“Can’t,” he says calmly. Confidently. “There’s no service in here.”

“Oh, yeah? And how do you know?”

“Cause I’ve done this before. Many times.”

Your eyes narrow. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“…why?”

There’s a brief pause before he says, “She used to love it here.”

Your heart instantly drops into your toes, grimace untwisting as you glance toward the ground. “Oh.”

Another shrug. “Point is, I can’t look it up. So…pick whichever. I don’t care.”

Swallowing thickly, you gesture toward the second exit. “B. The answer is dogs. My brother used to have it when he was younger.”

And for the first time all evening, it’s Harry’s turn to look surprised as he nudges his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “You have a brother?”

“Yeah. Didn’t you learn that from my file?” you tease, and you notice his lips twitch up into a smirk.

“Not exactly.”

“Yeah, well…I don’t really talk about him. He doesn’t live here, he lives back home. After my dad left, he stuck around to take care of our mom.”

You see a flash of sympathy streak across his expression, but you’re brushing him off before he can comment.

“Anyway, it’s B,” you repeat, walking toward the middle row. “If you don’t believe me, then go your own way.”

For a moment, Harry hesitates, almost as though considering it. Then, he sighs, and begrudgingly follows your lead.

This time around, you’re both quiet. Listening to the sounds of everyone else further on in the maze laughing, or talking, or squealing with excitement.

A few scattered lamps help guide you through the dark labyrinth. You can see the wind move through the corn stocks. The way they rustle as they sway with the breeze, adding an element of eeriness to the already spooky scene.

Furthermore, the night air is beginning to grow cold. The fall chill nipping at your skin and reminding you once more that it’s no longer summer as you shiver and pull your jacket further around your body.

“Should have brought a real coat,” Harry comments, almost haughtily, and it makes your eyes roll. “It’s October, Princess. Can’t wear booty shorts and flip flops anymore.”

Despite the fact that you’re wearing neither of those, you still feel the need to scoff, “Well, of course it’s not cold to you. You’re already dead inside.”

“Ooo, ouch. You got me. Sick burn, Tink. Real sick.”

His flippant response makes your skin crawl. “You are so fucking annoying, do you know that?”

“And you’re a fucking brat, do you know that?”

“I’m not a brat, I’m just right.”

“Sure. Whatever you say.”

“Yeah, it is whatever I say, actually. I’m the one with the fucking map.”

To prove your point, you wave the paper in the air before stopping beside the next checkpoint.

“What are the names of the four women on the show, The Golden Girls?” you read, eyebrows furrowing in thought. “Uh…I know Rose is one of them.”

“And Betty White,” Harry adds.

“No, her character. Not her,” you huff. “And I’m pretty sure Betty played Rose, so that’s only one.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to help,” he scoffs before glancing over the multiple-choice answers. “Then it’s probably A or C. Those are the only ones with Rose in them.”

“Well, we have to pick one. Okay, we can’t do both—”

“Yes, I fucking know that, Tinkerbell. I’m just narrowing it down—”

“Well, maybe be less condescending about it.”

“Fine,” he nearly snaps, angrily stabbing at the map with his finger. “A. Dorothy, Rose, Blanch, and Samantha.”

“No, that doesn’t sound right. I don’t think they had a Samantha. It was…it was something else. Either Sophia or Sarah.”

“Well, you have to pick one. You can’t have both,” he repeats mockingly, and you begin to glare. “Besides, statistically, it’s more likely they switch up the letters with each guess. We’ve already done B and C. Next should be A.”

“Really? That’s your reasoning?”

“That’s my reasoning. Take it or leave it.”

And you don’t like it. You don’t feel convinced by it. But you decide – just this once – to put your faith in his incessant need to be right. To trust him and his judgment.

You nod once. A curt gesture of good will as he sighs gratefully and takes off toward the first row.

An eerie feeling follows you as you trail behind. Perhaps an ominous warning to turn around. That something is about to go wrong.

At first, you shake it away. Equating it with your distaste for the man before you.

But soon…you see the real reason why.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you groan when you’re both forced to a stop by a dead end. “See? What did I tell you?”

“Fuck off, you didn’t tell me shit, Princess. It’s a dead end, not death,” he huffs. “We’ll turn around and try again.”

“Can we? We passed like two other rows and now I can’t remember which way we came.”

“Well, that’s not my fault.”

“Oh, bite me, Harold.”

“Just tell me where.”

You feel your heart race beneath your chest. Spurred on by adrenaline, slight fear, and the brisk cold air. “Can you please stop being so infuriating?”

“Can you please stop being such a bitch?” he replies cooly before his eyes flick down toward your shivering frame. “You’re shaking.”

“Yes, I know,” you grit through clenched, chattering teeth. “It’s cold. And don’t you dare make another joke about flip flops. I don’t have the energy to slap you.”

That arrogant smirk returns. “Cute. Told you, you should have brought a coat.”

“Well, I didn’t,” you hiss. “So can we please just get the fuck out of here before I freeze to death?”

Harry’s eyes roll, but you notice his grin grow as he sighs and lifts a hand toward the collar of his hoodie.

In one fluid motion, he’s slipping the sweatshirt up his torso and over his head to hand to you. Dangling the dark fabric between your bodies as you stare at it incredulously.

“Take it,” he grumbles, waving the material in your direction. “And don’t fucking say I’m never nice to you.”

Stunned, you blink quickly. “What…are you doing?”

“Just put it on,” he huffs, gesturing toward you again. “Cause, if you die out here, I’m not dragging your body back.”

Your eyelids narrow into small slits while you cautiously reach for the hoodie. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Once you’ve taken it, he uses his knuckle to shove his glasses back into position. “Like you said, I can’t get cold. I’m dead inside.”

You smile at this before pulling the cozy jacket over your head. It smells…good. It smells like him. Radiating heat and the faint scent of his cologne.

Truth be told, it feels like a warm hug. Something you can’t imagine Harry ever giving you on his own. And a part of you feels…relieved. Relaxed and almost…enamored. Perhaps even grateful.

“Thanks,” you murmur, snuggling against the fabric before slipping your hands into the pocket. “You didn’t…have to. I know being nice isn’t your thing.”

He snorts, turning now toward the tall lookout platform just beside the dead end. “Whatever. Maybe we should go up and see if we can see the exit.”

“Okay.”

With that, he turns toward the stairs and begins the trek up. You rush after him, trying hard to see the steps without much light, and thankfully making it to the top in one piece as you begin to look around.

It’s beautiful. Absolutely stunning, the design lit up by the soft glow of the moon. An almost romantic touch, although you shake the thought away. You can see a few groups spread out throughout the rest of the maze, but most of them are already making their way out. Having figured out the riddles much quicker than the two have seemed to.

You pout. “Nuts.”

“Yeah,” he agrees in a low grumble. “Okay, we’ll…we’ll turn around. Maybe you were right. Maybe it was C. We can try that next.”

It’s strange to hear him admit you could have been correct, and you can’t help but smirk as you nod. “Okay.”

You follow Harry down the other side, focusing your attention on your footing as you take each step one at a time.

But once you’re toward the bottom, your tennis shoe suddenly catches on a rogue nail, and you begin to stumble. Body falling forward before you can even reach for the railing.

Instantly, Harry – who’s already made it back to the ground – reaches out for your arms, slipping his hands beneath your elbows to help steady you and catch you just in the nick of time. Sparing you from a rather embarrassing fall.

You gasp as you’re flung forward, allowing yourself to settle in his embrace for support while you work on your balance and place your feet back where they need to be.

And once you’re sure you’re sturdy, you take a deep breath, and straighten up.

“Shit,” you whisper, lashes fluttering from the rush of adrenaline, and the feel of his touch. “I hate these shoes.”

You expect a snarky quip, but instead, you see his expression twist from behind his glasses as he glances over your face. Hands still glued to your arms. “Are you all right?”

A bit stunned by the soft and rather gentle tone of voice, you nod once. “Yeah. Sorry, I’m…sorry. I should have been looking.”

He seems confused by your apology but chooses to ignore it, instead watching you closely as if monitoring your reaction. “If you wanted me to hold you, Tinkerbell, you could have just said so.”

Despite yourself, you laugh, cheeks growing warm as you push yourself out of his arms. “Fuck off.”

“Fuck off? Or fuck me?”

“Ha. Very funny.”

“Maybe I’m not being funny,” he argues. “Maybe I mean it.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really.”

You snort. “Harry, come on. This would be the last place to fuck.”

“Why?”

“Yeah, why. What’s wrong with it? It’s dark. Secluded. There’s the element of getting caught, which I know you like.”

“Harry,” you repeat, almost doubtfully. “We…there’s no place to even do it. It’s way too exposed, and cold, and dangerous. We’d be better off just fucking in my car.”

“If we can even find our way back to your car,” he retorts teasingly. “Besides, I thought you liked danger.”

You gaze at him with suspicion, feeling that odd racing return to your chest. “You’re not being serious, are you?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe. I wasn’t at first, but…it’s not a bad idea.”

“Please. You can’t be that horny that you have to fuck me every time we see each other.”

“Okay, well, I’m not and I don’t,” he scoffs. “It’s just…different.”

“Oh, really? Why?”

Another shrug, but this time, he’s stepping closer. Those soft, green eyes dancing down your body as if drinking you in. Indulging in the sight of you. “I don’t know,” he repeats, a bit quieter. Thicker. “There’s just…something about you, in my clothes. It’s…it’s good. You look good.”

The look in his eye is primal. Breeding a new sense of desire deep within the pit of your stomach. You shift under his lustful gaze, fingers curling into your fist from inside the pocket.

“Thanks, I guess,” you manage to say, noticing the way he continues to move closer. “It is comfy.”

“Good,” he mumbles, still studying your stance before dragging his attention back up to your face. “And you’re warm?”

“Getting there.”

A short nod. “You know…there are other ways of heating you up.”

The sneaky remarks are back, and even though you can feel your legs squeezing together from the suggestive tone of voice, you grin. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.” He finally reaches you, fingers outstretching for the front of his hoodie. Moving up your chest almost innocently before slipping around the back of your neck. “Want me to keep you warm, Tink?”

And you want to tease him a little longer, make him wait. Suffer.

But he’s too good. He’s always been too good at catching you off guard and luring you into submission. The way he speaks, the way he looks at you, the way he pulls you closer with the palm of his hand. You can practically taste him. Can smell him everywhere. Feel him in places he’s not even touching you.

And you need it. You need him, you want him. Right now, more than anything.

“Yes,” you exhale, almost shakily. “Yes, please—”

He surges forward, lips connecting with yours almost violently. Stealing the rest of your plea before you can make it.

You can’t breathe. Can’t do anything but whimper as he sucks on your tongue and presses his fingers harder against your head. Trapping you against his mouth until you feel dizzy.

And he’s so warm. A stark contrast to the brisk, autumn air. And he’s soft in a way you hadn’t anticipated. Inviting. As though he’s been waiting his whole life to lay his mouth to yours.

“Har—” you gasp when he pulls back to nip at your bottom lip. “Har, please—”

You sound deranged. Wounded, almost, and so goddamn pitiful. You’re tugging on his shirt, trying to yank him impossibly closer. Tilting to the left for a deeper angle and raising up onto your toes in order to taste him fully.

“Easy,” he whispers, and it’s so very strained. Like he’s using what little strength he still has to speak to you. “Easy, Princess. S’okay, I’ve got you.”

It’s possessive the way he talks to you. Commanding you to listen. Insisting that your pleasure is his. That your wellbeing is in his hands.

He’s not a caring man by nature. At least not to you. But in moments like this, his dominance takes control. Turning him into a desperate man eager to care for you. To protect you and keep you safe.

Perhaps it’s a more caveman mindset. The idea that he needs to look after you. That you’re his to keep and care for.

But right now…you adore it. Feel safe in the idea of submitting to him.

“Please,” you try again, breathless and desperate as you cling to his strong frame and beg him for something only he can give you. “Harry, please…hurts.”

There’s a teasing glimmer in his eye, brightened by the reflection of his glasses. “Yeah? Is it achy, Tink?”

You nod quickly, grabbing onto his other hand to slide it down your stomach. Right toward where you need him most.

And he lets himself be moved, watching with intrigue at the way his fingers are dragged toward your thighs. Smirking rather sadistically while pressing his palm against your pussy with fervor.

You whine at the subtle friction, already attempting to grind down against the heel of his hand as he meets your pace with soft strokes of his own.

“There you go,” he murmurs, watching your hips before returning his attention to your face. “Feels good, baby, yeah? Like to use me, don’t you?”

Another quick nod, and you sigh contently when he presses his lips to your cheek. Placing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

“Har,” you try again, nuzzling closer. “Har, they’re…they’re gonna see. Can’t…can’t do it here—”

“Yes we can,” he replies calmly. And the soft, secure tone of voice instantly turns your insides to jelly. “Promise I won’t let them see, okay? Gonna keep you to myself.”

He removes his hand from your pussy to place it on your hip. Guiding you back until you feel your body connect with something hard. You glance around just long enough to find that it’s the wooden frame of the lookout. And he keeps you trapped there as he hides you both beneath the structure, tucking you away from any prying eyes that might pass.

“There,” he says, grinning to himself at the eager look on your face. “Now Daddy can see just how wet you really are, hm?”

You can tell he’s using the nickname sparingly. Tentative of your reaction as he waits to see how you might feel about it.

And truthfully, you hadn’t anticipated liking it as much as you do. Especially in this moment, when he’s giving you everything you’ve ever wanted. It’s like music to your ears, orgasmic just to listen to.

You swallow thickly and nudge your nose against his cheek. “Yes, Daddy.”

He tenses beneath your touch, cursing against the shell of your ear before he whispers, “Show me.”

He returns his hand to yours, allowing your fingers to interlock as you shakily guide him toward your jeans.

After a bit of maneuvering, you get the zipper down, and help slip his hand inside your underwear. Straight down to your cunt as his fingers glide through your folds until he can find what he’s looking for.

“Oh, Tink,” he coos almost sympathetically. Stroking your pussy as you move to grip his wrist excitedly. “S’all wet, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you mumble, leaning your head back against the wooden board for stability. “Hurts.”

“I bet,” he tsks, sliding his middle finger toward your hole. Circling it once before glancing over your expression. “Need something to fill you up, hm? Get you warm again?”

You hum your agreement, tugging his touch further into you as he chuckles and steps closer. “Please…”

“What, baby? What do you need?”

You whimper again and roll your hips against his fingers. Needing the friction of his thumb against your clit which he refuses to give you.

“What do you want, hm?” he mumbles, dipping down to ghost his lips across yours. “Just ask…and Daddy will give you anything you want.”

And in this moment, you know he means it.

“Want you…to fuck me,” you exhale, reaching now for the curls lying against the back of his neck. “Please, Har. Need you to fuck me. Make it better. Make it go away.”

“Is that right?” He slips a finger inside, and you feel your insides twist as you gasp and squirm against the pleasurable touch. “Need something bigger, yeah?”

“Yes…yeah. Please. Please, Daddy.”

He smiles again before slipping his hand from inside your jeans to help tug them down your legs. Yanking almost furiously until they’re settled near your ankles. Allowing him just enough room to slip between.

And once your cunt is on display for him, he stares at it with a certain mesmerized admiration. Allowing himself to enjoy you before he reaches for his own belt and tugs it free.

Once he’s managed to pull his cock out, he reaches again for your hips. Squeezing them once before turning you around.

His arm slips around your middle to keep you secure and you grin lazily as you rest yourself against his chest.

“Gonna hold you, just like this,” he whispers against your cheek, and you feel the tip of his cock trailing against the curve of your ass. “Keep you warm.”

The hand against your ribcage is gentle. Keeping you steady as he attempts to hold you close.

“Deep breath, Tink, okay?” he instructs next, nudging the crown against your dripping hole. Warning you of his next step. “Know it’s a lot, but you always take me so well, don’t you? Gonna take me again?”

You grab onto his arm, nails scraping down his skin as you whine, “Yes. Yes, I’ll take you. Just need it, Har, please—"

“Okay, all right,” he shushes, nudging his cheek against your temple. “Need you to relax, okay? Are you relaxed, baby?”

And you think you are. Mentally, anyway. You’ve never felt so comfortable in someone’s arms. Under their influence and control. Even despite the cold air nipping at your thighs and the outside threat of getting caught, you feel at ease. Adrenaline coursing through your veins as the sounds of people somewhere else in the maze float toward you. Reminding you of where you are. What could happen.

“Tink,” he warns, sliding his cock through your folds in wait. “I need you to relax for me, okay? I really don’t want to hurt you.”

“No?” you manage to retort, and you catch his smile out of your peripheral. “Thought you liked to hurt me.”

“I do,” he agrees, lips following the shell of your ear. “But not like this. Don’t wanna split you in half.”

“Maybe I want you to,” you breathe, reaching back for his neck. “Maybe I need it, Daddy.”

He chuckles almost darkly before pressing his mouth against your heated skin. “I’ll remember that.”

With that, he drops his hand down to your cunt, circling his fingers around your clit until he feels your body unwind. Allowing him just enough room to begin pushing his cock in.

“There you go,” he sighs, both of you groaning when you feel how easily he slips in. “So fucking good. Take me so well, don’t you? Always do, I know. Relax, baby. It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

The burn is almost overwhelming. Demanding your focus and attention as you feel him stretch you open, forcing your walls to accommodate his size.

“Hey,” you hear him murmur, his palm coming up to cup your jaw. Thumb sweeping across your parted lips. “Are you breathing? Gotta breathe, Tink, come on. You know better—”

“I know,” you gasp, sucking in a greedy gasp for air before you suck in his finger. “I know, Daddy, m’sorry.”

He hums his approval before allowing himself to sit inside your warm mouth. “It’s okay, know it feels good, hm?”

“Mhm,” you agree around the large digit, allowing your tongue to settle him on your tastebuds. “More.”

“More?” he repeats, using his other hand to squeeze your hip. “Want more, greedy girl?”

“Please…”

“Please," he echoes thoughtfully. "Greedy Girl has manners, how precious.”

There’s a slight air of condescension and teasing to his response, and you feel yourself flutter around his length.

His grin grows. “You like that, baby?”

You manage one more weak nod as you press yourself against his body, squirming in his hold while his cock pushes in to the hilt.

“There,” he exhales, groaning some before falling still. Allowing your body to adjust to his size. “You okay?”

“Yes…yes, m’okay. Please move, please…please, Daddy—”

“Okay, all right,” he agrees coarsely, readjusting his stance before returning his arm to your stomach. Just beneath your chest. “Need you to be good, okay? Just listen to Daddy’s voice and do what I say.”

“I will. I will, I promise.”

“Good.” He begins to pull back. Dragging his cock through your quivering hole as you moan his name.

But such a loud noise isn’t quite what he had in mind, his other palm reaching up to smack across your mouth to silence you.

“Uh-uh,” he grunts, pausing the rhythm of his hips until he’s sure you’ll obey. “None of that. M’keeping you for myself, remember? Can’t let them know.”

You make an incoherent noise against his hand before writhing back against his cock. Needing more friction and movement that he refuses to give you.

“Unless that’s what you want, Greedy Girl,” he whispers into your neck. “Want them to see what I do to you. The way I make you fall apart…the way you beg for my cock. Even when you hate me.”

The idea sends a shiver down your spine as you groan his name and claw at his wrist.

“Is that what you want?” he murmurs between sharp thrusts. “S’it why you keep this pretty pussy so nice and tight for me? Cause you want them to know that it’s only me? That everything…everything…you do is because of me?”

Your eyes roll back, either from annoyance or pleasure. But it’s blissful, this feeling. This hard fuck, this angry connection.

And yet, this infuriating man is oddly tender with you. Holding you close and helping you find your release, despite the way he goads you.

“Do you, Tink?” he asks again. “Do you want Lucas to see? Want them all to fucking see what you do to me?”

His nails are scraping down your ribcage, pulling you taut against his chest as he drives his cock as deep as it’ll go. Hips meeting your ass as he releases your mouth to hold onto you again, keeping you still.

“Tell me,” he says between deep breaths. “Tell me you’re mine. Tell me you only cum for me—”

“Har—”

“My greedy little whore. My dirty fucking princess.” His tone is angry. Dissolving into something feral as he begins to pound into you with a harder force. Nearly knocking the wind from your lungs. “Not his. Mine. Always mine—”

“Yours,” you repeat between soft whines. “Yours, Harry, you know that—”

“Yeah?” He holds you tighter, allowing you no room to squirm as he nears his release. His pace becomes faster and sloppier the closer he gets. Allowing your warmth to soak him, draw him in. Using you as nothing more than a toy. A means to his end. “Then prove it.”

Even without much extra stimulation, you can feel yourself getting closer to the brink. Harry has always had this innate ability to get you there without much more than a few pumps of his cock. Perhaps it’s his size or his technique. The way he knows exactly where to thrust in order to hit the right spot and make you see stars.

And maybe there’s a part of you – albeit small – that enjoys the idea of being good for him. Of coming on his cock (or his tongue or his fingers) just so he can watch. So he can feel what he does to you.

Maybe…you just want to be good for him. At least in moments like this. To know that you’ve earned his approval, his praise. That such a brilliant man has devoted his time and attention and body just to you.

That you’re worthy of his time.

Worthy of him.

It’s almost degrading to think about and yet…it makes you clench. Pussy clamping down on his beautifully thick cock until he groans and nuzzles his nose against your neck.

“Shit,” he hisses, rhythm stuttering as a shot of pleasure rolls through him. “Tink, if you’re gonna do that, I’m gonna cum.”

“Good,” you answer instantaneously. “Want you to. Need you to, Daddy, please—”

“No,” he huffs, and he stills for only a moment as if attempting to refrain from falling apart. “No, need you to cum first. Daddy needs to feel you cum first, okay? Come on, baby, gotta give it to me—”

You mewl helplessly, drowning out the rest of his instruction. You’re close, and you know it won’t be much longer until it overwhelms you.

And there’s some part of you that feels…disappointed. Saddened by the idea of things going back to how they normally are. That he’ll take himself from you – take his cock from you – and return to the maddening man you can hardly tolerate.

Maybe subconsciously, you try to hold off. Keep your orgasm at bay so you can keep him just a little longer. So you can appreciate the caring man behind you and the way he’s so desperate to put you first.

He’s quite wonderful when he’s not being an ass.

“Tink,” he grunts, hand moving up toward your jaw. You feel his palm press to your throat, and you swallow thickly against his skin. “Baby, I want you to cum. Wanna feel you. What do you need? Hm? Wanna play with your pretty button for me?”

You nod pitifully and allow your own fingers to move down toward your cunt. It’s wet and achy and swollen so much it almost hurts to touch. But you release a strained breath, nevertheless, appreciating the sting of overstimulation as you writhe in his hold.

You can feel your body beginning to overheat the closer you get. Helping warm you up from the October chill still biting at your skin. And the sounds of your friends aren’t far behind. Perhaps looking for you, waiting for you both to exit the maze and continue on with your evening.

But you don’t give a damn about anybody else right now. Just him.

Something you never thought you’d say.

“Getting closer, yeah?” he hums against your ear, fingers tightening around your neck. “I know. Fucking shaking, baby, you’re okay. I got you. Just let it happen, let go.”

There’s something about his voice. About the feel of his glasses against your temple. About the way he makes you feel safe and secure. The way he effortlessly brings you to the edge and promises to catch you when you fall.

You know he hates you. And yet you also know that despite this loathing you share, you’re still his priority. That he’ll put your pleasure first, no matter what. That he wants to be good.

“Har,” you whimper through a high-pitched whine. “Shit, please—”

“You close? Gonna give it to me? Make Daddy happy?”

The reminder of the nickname makes you moan, a bit softer than before, but still rather lewd. And Harry tsks from behind you, once again sliding his palm up to your mouth.

“Dirty fucking princess,” he grits before he’s suddenly slamming himself into you. “Can’t ever do what she’s told, hm? Just loves to disobey me. Wants to get caught. Wants to be my greedy little girl—”

My greedy little girl.

That’s what does it for you. His possession, his mark, his claim. Reducing you to nothing more than this thing he uses for his pleasure. An object to be had.

In any other moment, you’d chastise him for it.

Right now, it’s everything you need to hear.

You cum on his cock without much choice. Pleasure unfurling like the petals of a flower in spring. For a moment, the overpowering sensation is all you can comprehend. Just ecstasy, a weightless euphoria. Lifting you up and dropping you back down.

He curses when he feels it, offering you quick murmurs of praise before he’s grabbing onto your hips with both hands and yanking you back. Using this leverage to drive his cock in in sharp thrusts before he’s following. Releasing himself into you with a groan as you gasp and grab onto one of the beams for support.

Thirty seconds pass of heavy breathing and lingering whimpers before you both fall quiet, chests heaving and legs still shaking.

He doesn’t pull out for at least a moment or two, merely holding onto your waist as he works to gather himself together.

“Shit,” he finally whispers, and you feel the subtle stroking of his thumb against your tender skin. Right over the bruises you’re sure to find tomorrow. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” you hum weakly, nodding once. “Really good, actually.”

“Yeah? Good. You needed it.”

You feel your lips pull back into a smile. “Oh, did I?”

“You really did.”

“Right. Even though you’re the one that fucks me every time you see me.”

You hear him scoff as he finally – and slowly – pulls out. Allowing your muscles to unwind as you release a deep breath. “I’m doing you a favor,” is his reply. And it’s laced with a condescension and haughtiness that you know all too well.

“Oh, is that what you’re doing?”

“Yes.” He tucks himself back into his briefs before crouching down to reach for your jeans. Pulling them back up your legs with a strange amount of care, despite his snarky attitude. “I do a lot of favors for you.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

You turn around while he steps back and readjusts his glasses. “Was getting us lost one of those favors?”

A strange, almost sadistic kind of grin begins to stretch across his face. “Maybe.”

You hesitate. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs once before backing out of the lookout as you rezip your jeans. “It means…maybe I knew this was the wrong way.”

“…I’m sorry?”

His hands shove into his pockets while his sly smile seems to mirror his satisfaction. “I just figured it wouldn’t hurt to do some…exploring.”

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” you nearly gasp, striding after him so you can swat your hand across his chest. “Are you fucking serious? You got us lost on purpose?”

“We were never lost, Tinkerbell. I knew exactly where we were."

"Yeah? And where are we?"

"Taking a detour."

“I cannot believe you,” you murmur, staring at him rather incredulously. “God, you are so fucking horny, it’s insane.”

“Oh, relax,” he snorts. “I didn’t take you back here to fuck you. I just thought you’d wanna see the top of the maze.”

“And you couldn’t have just asked?”

“Would you have agreed?”

You consider this. “…all right, maybe not. But you’re still a fucking ass.”

“Yeah,” he agrees coyly. “I know.”

You keep your stern glare, but your grin is playful. “Whatever. Does this mean you know the way out?”

“I do,” he says. “There’s a shortcut. Cassie and I used to cheat and use it all the time.”

The revelation of her name makes your breath catch. You hadn’t expected him to reveal something so personal, and there’s a part of you that isn’t quite sure what to do with it.

You can tell he hasn’t realized his slip, because he’s still smiling at you like he’s waiting for you to get the joke. To laugh with him.

But there’s something else in his eye – something beautiful and reminiscent. Excited. Like the mere mention of her name has calmed him. Reminded him of a better time. A happier place.

Reminded him of someone who isn’t you.

“I see,” you manage, choking the words out as you glance toward the dirt beneath your sneakers. Avoiding his eye. “Well…great. Get me the hell out of here, please.”

He studies you for a moment. You can feel his eyes boring into your profile, as though attempting to work out just what changed in your demeanor.

Then, he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, and says, “Yeah. This way.”

With that, he maneuvers back through the large stocks of corn and leads you through the intricate labyrinth. Weaving his way along the path and bypassing each checkpoint with ease, almost as if he’s done this a hundred times.

You imagine he has.

You reach the exit in only a few minutes, and relief washes over you as you catch sight of your car in the distance. Your means of escape and your excuse to leave him behind.

“Thank God,” you mumble as you both slip out from the corn and back into the light. “That was…excruciating.”

“Oh, was it?” he teases. “Really? All of it?”

“Yes, all of it,” you snort, but you feel rather amused as you glance over his expression. “Let’s never get stuck in a corn maze together again, agreed?”

“Agreed,” he replies, but there’s a certain playful glimmer in his eye. “We can just fuck the old-fashioned way. In your car.”

“Gee, great.”

You both fall silent as your quippy remarks die down. Looking at each other like you’re waiting for someone to break the spell. To return you both to your anger and your rivalry. To poke fun at the few moments of intimacy and understanding you shared and release you from this strange yearning.

You decide to be the first, clearing your throat as quietly as you can while reaching for the collar of the hoodie to slip it off. “Uh, well…thanks again. For letting me borrow this.”

He blinks, momentarily puzzled – or perhaps…disappointed? – as he watches you pull it from your body. “Yeah. No problem. Just bring a fucking coat next time.”

“There won’t be a next time, remember?” you retort, tossing it over.

He catches it with one hand, and smiles. “Right. And thank God for that.”

“Exactly.”

Another lull, the two of you continuing to stand in the dimly lit parking lot as you wait for him to say goodbye.

And suddenly, you realize…you don’t want to go. You don’t want to say goodbye. That you feel…safer when he’s around. More relaxed and at ease. Even when you’re griping with him or resisting the urge to put his head through a wall, he’s still…comforting. A forceful and reassuring presence that you otherwise feel lost without.

Because you remember who he was before…Cassie. You remember his kindness and his ability to make you laugh.

And you know that he’s still that person. He’s still trying to take care of the people he feels closest to, even when he doesn’t mean to. Even when he doesn’t realize.

You know why he pushed you away. You know why he’s created such a vast, unyielding distance. And you can’t exactly blame him.

But the version of him that automatically thinks to care for you…that’s the version you’re drawn to. That’s the version you don’t want to say goodbye to.

“What?” he asks, grinning again as his head cocks. Seeming to notice the shift in your expression. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You hesitate, lashes fluttering as you work out a response. Wondering just how much you can share…and how much of it is real. “Nothing, I…this was just…”

He waits, brow raised.

Your lips clamp. “Nothing. I’m just thinking about all the fucking work I have to do when I go in tomorrow, thanks to you.”

And you can see he’s unconvinced, eyes flicking between yours as if looking for the real answer. But he waits a beat before his smile fades and he asks, “Why did you really come tonight?”

A bit caught off-guard by the question, you blink. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you could have partnered with anyone else. If you really wanted,” he explains, slowly stepping closer. Forcing a hitch in your throat. “Could have left me behind. Gone ahead. But you didn’t. Why?”

And there it is. That hint – that almost undetectable trace – of vulnerability behind the usual arrogance. He’s giving you the chance, offering you an opportunity for truth.

And maybe you want to take it. Maybe you want to confess and unburden yourself of this weight that’s settled on your shoulders.

The truth teases the tip of your tongue, laden with consequences.

But just before you can offer him the real answer, there’s a distant laugh from one of the groups back in the maze. Interrupting the moment and stealing what little courage you had left.

Your lashes flutter quickly as if shaking yourself from a daze, and you step back. Forcing distance between your bodies in an attempt to find clarity.

Harry watches you go, expression hard and etched with frustration, while you swallow thickly and spin on your heel.

He doesn’t call after you as you race to your car. Doesn’t insist on an answer or try to make you stay.

He merely stands there beneath the warm hue of the streetlamp, allowing you to run away, and disappear into your car before fleeing the scene.

Leaving him behind.

Previous Part:

~ Always*

~ 404 Masterlist

~ Freaky Fun Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

~ Blurb Masterlist

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