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hyuuukais · 11 days

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⋆.˚𖦹°‧✮‧°𖦹˚.⋆ ERROR 404

pairing ~ yang jeongin x fem reader

synopsis ~ y/n starts getting messages from an unknown number after buying a used phone for cheap. as she finds out more about the boy she's talking to, it turns out there's much more to this than a wrong number --- he died, and she's talking to his spirit, yet he has no idea what happened to him. will y/n have what it takes to solve the mystery of his death? or will the boy's spirit remained trapped in his phone?

warnings ~ gen, blood/injuries, depiction of (non graphic or very detailed) suicide, y/n doesn't like physical touch so much

MASTERLIST | NEXT

CH 1 ~ UNKNOWN NUMBER (2.3k, 8 screenshots)

"...hello? How'd you get this number?" You ask, very clearly confused.

No one should know your new number other than you, and now Changbin, so who...? There's no answer on the other line and you sigh, frustration rising as you continue to question the caller. Who is it, what do they want, again, how did they get this number, etc. Silence is all you get, about to hang up when you think you can hear someone's breath hitch.

Leaning into the phone, like that'll help you hear any better, you listen to a shaky breath. It sounds far off, like their phone is placed away from them. Maybe they didn't even know they called you. Turning your volume up, you still struggle to make out any other sounds over the breathing, not that it's all that loud. You're about to ask if they're okay, do they need you to get help, when the line cuts. Pulling the phone away from your ear, you can't hide the look of worry and bewilderment on your face.

Unplugging the charger from where it sits in the outlet under the table you're sitting at, you gather your things and get ready to leave. You agreed to meet at a café deeper in the city, somewhere with more traffic in case something happened. The seller had suggested it, saying this place had the best slices of chocolate cake you could have and even ordered you one when you arrived. All was going well, ignoring their unsteady hands and the sweat beading on their brow bone. Handing the phone over was a quick exchange as soon as your etransfer went through to them. That was when they broke the news; the phone doesn't turn on or charge, but here's both and you can figure it out yourself. They left in a hurry, not leaving you room to argue or demand your money back. You felt stupid.

As soon as you inserted the charging port into the phone, it turned on immediately and you smirked. The phone doesn't turn on? Sure, okay. After a few minutes of fiddling with settings, everything was ready. You texted Changbin, figuring you could give yourself some moments of peace before contacting anyone else you thought needed to know your new number.

You grab your bag and head to the door, keeping your phone out to text Changbin about the number that called you. When you open the door to go out, you're met with a hard wall and stumble back. Hands barely grab your arms as you nearly fall into another person, holding you upright and apologizing profusely. Looking up, you see a man around your age, eyes looking you up and down to check you're alright. His blond hair glows in the sunlight and he's wearing a smooth button-down, effortlessly gorgeous and somewhat familiar, but you can't quite pinpoint where you've seen him.

"I'm fine, sorry for bumping into you like that," you chuckle, moving his arms away from you. Physical touch has never been your thing. "Should have looked before I opened the door... shit, is that-? Sorry again!"

Moving past him, you run out to the crosswalk, stopping abruptly when the hand pops up. Down the road is the bus you need to catch, and you know the food truck parked beside you is blocking you from view. Sticking your arm out isn't an option like usual, risking being hit by a turning car if you do. The stop is empty save for a man facing away from you. As soon as your eyes lock onto him, his face turns to yours like he could feel your stare.

The side of his face is all scratched up and you notice blood dripping from his bruised nose down his split, chapped lips. His skin is pale, bordering blue with veins visible underneath. You can't tear your eyes away, not even when you're prompted to walk or when the hand starts flashing again. The man's mouth is moving, but you can't hear from where you are. Vehicles are rushing past you, wind in your hair, and you finally tear your eyes away when the bus you were supposed to take drives past the stop.

When you look away from the bus, now fading in the distance, the man is gone... but the bus never stopped to pick him up.

Having only you and Changbin working in the shop full time often has you both forgetting what normal work hours are, and soon enough it's nearly midnight.

"Holy shit, Bin," you rub your bleary eyes, taking another look at the time on your phone. "We have to stop. Go to bed."

"I'm almost done..." he drags the last word, carefully placing a few more blue flowers into a bouquet before standing back to marvel at his creation. "This bride is going to be so happy!"

"It's beautiful, but Bin, let's go." You head to the door and wave goodbye. "Lock up behind me, and promise you're heading up after I leave? We don't need a repeat of Sunday."

"Hey, to be fair, I thought we'd be closed," he laughs. "Not my fault you decided to show up on your birthday only to see me drooling all over the stem cuttings."

You give a light punch in his arm, laughing with him at the image conjured in your head of him hunched over the table in the back. He'd stayed up all night finishing a last minute request, not even realizing he fell asleep until you woke him up that morning. The flowers had wilted enough overnight to be deemed unsellable, having to remake each bouquet and wreath in that order. It was terrible.

You're about to say goodbye again when your phone rings in your hand; unknown number. Putting it on speaker, you sigh loudly.

"This is what I'm talking about," you whisper to Changbin, hand hovering over the microphone. Rolling your eyes, you move it away. "Who is this and what do you want? Seriously, this is getting annoying quick."

Like before, all you can hear is heavy breathing, although it's much louder this time like whoever is on the other end has the phone held up to their ear. It doesn't take long for them to hang up again.

"Block the number," Changbin shifts uncomfortably, hands on his hips. "That's creepy."

Taking his advice, you enter your call logs, but there's no sign of of anyone calling you just now. In fact, the only log is from when Changbin called about the new clients. There's nothing from before that either.

"Weird," you mumble, pocketing the device. "Okay, well. Goodnight."

"Y/n," Changbin grabs your arm lightly as you move through the doorway. "Stay safe, please."

"When don't I?" You give a weak smile, trying to be reassuring. "I'll be fine. Now go! I better find you somewhat well rested tomorrow morning."

You take the last bus of the night going your direction, kicking your shoes off as soon as you enter your house. It's a small, but cute and cozy bungalow you started renting not too long ago, having saved up from the flower shop. Business is good, and you're content with how your life is going at them moment. Before, when you were younger, you imagined a life on the go. Busy, busy, busy, lots of travelling for work and nonstop action. But then Changbin offered you a job and you never looked back, enjoying the lack of chaos you once yearned for.

Dim lights, fuzzy blankets; it doesn't take long for you to fall asleep with your lamp still on. Now you find yourself standing on a bridge you don't recognize, the air still, not a sound to be heard. Looking over the edge, you're met with a busy highway, but the traffic is absolutely silent. Dream logic always messed you up, especially when you finally realize you're in a dream. You haven't had a lucid dream for a long time, but you were certain that's what this is. A long day mixed with extreme exhaustion and a hint of stress? Definitely could have concocted this.

Looking down each side of the bridge, you spot a boy leaning over the edge further down. You try to call out, but find you have no voice. As you get closer, you notice something- he's the same guy you saw at the bus stop earlier that day. He's wearing the same clothes, a tattered blue sweater over a white shirt that peaks out from the bottom and black jeans. Dried blood cakes his face and hair, especially matted in the back, kind of like he hit his head really bad. One leg swings over the edge of the railing and you speed up, realizing what he's going to do as the other leg joins. You still can't yell for him, can't talk him off the edge or cry for help. All you can do is watch as he pushes off, the air breaking with the sound of glass crunching, a crash, and a car horn honking loudly.

When you gain the courage to look over where he fell- no, jumped- there's nothing there. A light breeze moves your hair and you realize you can't hear the horn anymore, only crickets in the dark night. As you straighten back up, you can feel a presence behind you.

"That's not what happened," they whisper in your ear and you startle, turning around.

Before you can fully turn to face who whispered, you're grabbed and thrown over the same spot the boy jumped from. Now, you can scream. As you're falling in slow motion, you scream. As you reach out to save yourself, you scream. And as you hit the ground, you scream.

And then you wake up.

You wake up in a cold sweat, sitting upright and clutching your chest, trying to learn to breathe again. There's a pain in the back of your head, dull and aching, and your whole body feels sore and stiff. Beside you your phone flashes on and you barely register an incoming call before it declines. Picking up the device, you see there have been 3 missed calls since you fell asleep nearly an hour ago. Wait, only an hour? It felt so much longer.

Finger hovering over the phone icon, you're about to see if they left any voicemails when another call comes in. Unknown number- you almost hang up, but something compels you to answer again. Is it the mystery of it all? Getting to the bottom of the odd breathing, being unable to call back? Or just plain curiosity?

"Hello? Who is-"

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," you hear the sound of a man's voice on the other line, hoarse and distant. "Are you there?"

'Yeah, I just-"

"Hello?"

"Stop interrupting me-"

"Please, please be there," he sobs, followed by a wet cough. "It's so dark in here... and my head is pounding, I think I'm hurt."

"Listen, you need to call the emergency line, not a random number of someone you don't know," you say quickly, starting to panic at the sudden silence. "Hello?"

"I think... I think im dead."

Nothing. The line does dead after he's uttered those final words, leaving you to stare at your wall in the dark with your phone still held up to your ear. Slowly, you put the device in your lap and reach over to flick the switch on your lamp, dim lighting filling the room. There's a faint ringing in your ears, and you notice the pain from when you woke is gone. Your legs are jelly when you stand, a hand against the wall to brace yourself as your vision blurs for a moment. Once it's back to normal, you move toward your bedroom door and exit, heading to the bathroom down the hall.

Slipping out of your pajamas, you turn the shower on as hot as you can bear, steam filling the room. Contact with the water makes you hiss, adjusting to the sudden change in temperature as you let it flow over your body from head to toe. It's nice, warm and reassuring. When you're satisfied with the comfort provided by the near boiling water, you step out and wrap a dark green towel around yourself. With the window closed, your mirror has fogged up entirely. You dry your body facing away from the mirror, fully intending to wipe it down after yourself, but when you turn back around you're met with a message written in the condensation.

Help me.

To say you're freaked out is a severe understatement, choosing to wipe the words away with your towel and ignore it until further notice. As you take the fabric away from the reflective surface, you choke back a scream, flipping around to find nothing there. Just a second ago, you saw a man standing behind you in the mirror, but there's only empty space. You're almost scared to turn back, forcing your eyes up, but there's nobody in the mirror now either. The only logical explanation you can find for this is that it's late, you're tired, you're seeing things. Go back to bed, go back to sleep. Everything will be back to normal in the morning.

Walking back to your room, you don't notice the other person in each reflection you pass. He's beside you as you leave the bathroom, when you enter your bedroom and get back under your blankets. Your bed provides a warm and safe feeling of comfort from the weird day you've had, leaning over to flick the lamp off. As soon as you do, the room lights up again as your phone gets a text notification.

notes ~ first chapter woooo!!! so excited to share this one with u guys :3

taglist ~ @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @bloomingstay @sona1800 @dollschan @defnotfertilizedtoesw @thisisnotjacinta @kayleigh-28 @kayleefriedchicken

reply or send an ask to be added (18+)^^^

#⋆.˚𖦹°‧✮‧°𖦹˚.⋆ ERROR 404 #skz #stray kids #yang jeongin x reader #yang jeongin x fem reader #yang jeongin #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #yang jeongin fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #skz series #yang jeongin series #smau #partial smau #non idol au #i.n x reader #i.n x fem reader

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szmxsm · 1 month

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(Almost) all non-humanoid fanart character I draw before. It will take me for a while to color them all (and I've started to feel tired LMAO)

叫你畫二創，不是叫你養蠱。

PS：爭鋒吃醋的兩隻，沒搞清狀況的兩隻，幸災樂禍的三隻，嘗試勸架的三隻，興致缺缺的一隻，跟觀眾對話的一隻。

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xx404-cantbefoundxx · 3 months

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Love seeing people sexualize the shit out of the one (1) canonically aroace character they know, it’s so fun and really shows that people recognize what being aspec is like AND that they take aspec identities seriously /s

“Aroace people can date and have sex!” Okay yeah but are you sure you aren’t using that as an excuse to pretend he’s allo?

So sick of allos I’m taking away your aspec character privileges until you know how to behave.

#404 posts #aroace #yes this is about alastor #stupid x reader bullshit #I don’t even like hh #but this is heinous #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor

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freedomfireflies · 6 months

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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

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @daphnesutton @love-letters-to-uranus @kirstiea05 @lovrave @princessprongs @nuggetdean @scndsofsummer @theofficialprongs

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talkbycolor · 5 days

Text

monster x mediator headcanons . . . ↷

A/N; mghmgh lo necesito (sexual)

Pairing; "NauseAxe_404" x GN!Reader

CW; weird shit? no bro only him mutilating you / feeling unsafe (cutely) / MONSTER COCK MY FAVORITE / smooching the monster under your bed

i need him to have a long tongue, its canon in my head

before you even met, he swore you were a couple, he'll propose to you in a cringe-y way if you decide to stay in the room for more than five minutes

He will cut off your arms and legs as long as you don't escape, but don't worry, he will take good care of you and will look for other ways so you can continue writing

if you stay in the room, you can sleep in his bed, he will sleep under it (we all know he will get up while you sleep to hug you)

you can't talk to another human or monster anymore, you were supposed to be together forever, WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO GET CLOSE TO SOMEONE ELSE, IF THEY SEE YOU THEY WILL LOVE YOU AND HE DON'T WANT THAT

the walls of his room are full of drawings of you and him, photos too since his artistic skills cannot portray your beauty very well and to be honest, neither can the cameras but he loves to see you wherever he turns his gaze

no matter how scared or angry you look, in his eyes, you would never do anything wrong, it is impossible for his superstar to make a mistake in any way, all your writings are perfect, your voice, your body, your eyes, your skin, your teeth, your hair, everything

he's basically a dog, he can't help but gasp with excitement when he sees you, rubbing his crotch against you, drooling in your face even if you complain, he's not going to stop

"you bruise so beautifully", imperfections do not exist, he may be fucking you until he tears you but his look of love will not disappear, on the contrary, he will fall in love with your whimpers, with how you scream in such an adorable way

on the contrary, if you seem bored, he will ask you to hit him, take off his pants, cover him with bruises, all for love (cuarteto referencia)

you are still human, you need to eat, sleep, breathe. WELL FUCK YOU, you won't go anywhere even if it's just to look for food, you can sleep in his bed, you can breathe his air if you have to but don't go DON'T GO DON'T GO DON'T GO DON'T GO

to be honest, you wouldn't be able to stand his pace, he'll fuck you until you vomit, even if you're bleeding, he'll feed you his saliva and your limbs will give in sooner than you think. but don't worry, he will continue loving your corpse

how many opportunities would you have to dress your superstar? He would take the opportunity to get adorable clothes and dress yourself with his own hands, putting slippers on your feet, cute bows in your hair, you don't need underwear, awww, look at you! such a pretty doll

he would never let you touch his axe, i'm sorry my love, but you have to respect his limits in the relationship, if you don't, do you really love him? of course he would never doubt the love you have for him! he just want understanding from you, dear

if you are willing, i also understand you, if they do give you the option to fuck a monster, you just take it but keep in mind that you will not be able to go to the hospital, that night you will know the true meaning of monster cock, it does not fit through your mouth and i highly doubt that it will fit your ass

even though he looks so desperate and willing to do unethical things, your biggest fan is a little shy. if you show him affection or interest, the red on your lips will sync perfectly with the red in his eyes. isn't that romantic?

he's smarter than you think, he probably used his ax quite a bit before you showed up at the hotel. it is a relief that you had never covered the camera of your cell phone or computer while you masturbated, after showering, while sleeping even, and yes, he obviously hacked your electronic devices

idk man, he seems pretty acoustic to me, you and axes as special interests, unstable reactions to changes he cannot control, poor understanding of other people's body language or facial expressions, specific way to organize or have his room

"babe give me a reason not to kill those who look at you" "you can't fuck me if you're in prison"

no es un chico malo, solo quiere ser él mismo

"everyone is so mean to me"

MAN I JUST LOVE HIM MY DELULU KING UEUEUUE

you don't have to say "I can fix him", he himself will tell you "FIX ME" (spoiler: you cant)

he looks cute when he cries, doesnt he?

♡

#yandere visual novel #yandere #yandere x reader #headcanons #nauseaxe 404 #404mxm #monster x mediator

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poraphia · 7 months

Text

"A High School Reunion."

Chapter 02 of "If You Look At Me, I'll Listen To You."

➵ PAIRING! clinic!civillian!wilbur x hero!reader

➵ CREATING! 10.1.23 | 3191 words

➵ CONTAINING! lovers to strangers, hero society (dream team + karl), tommy being a teasing prick

➵ SAYING! thank you for the support on the first chapter! i loved everyone's responses and input and seriously i would love to see more! if youd like to be a part of a taglist message my inbox! :DD

my masterlist and chapter 01

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey, Quacks, how’s the work been treating you?”

I spun around my office chair before kicking up my boots on my desk. It was another slow day the Hero’s Tower. Well, at least for me.

“It’s been going fine. It gets a little hard running a whole casino though, I’ll tell you that much.” He lightly chuckled through the phone.

I’ve known Quackity for a few years now. We attended university together after I moved out of my old neighborhood and into a small town just South of L’manburg city. Quackity was my dorm neighbor. We started talking to each other after I was fed up with all the ruckus I heard through the wall. When I learned that him and some strangers were doing a bit of Poker, I figured why not join. I didn’t stay in contact with those other people, but Quackity, we clicked too easily to let each other go.

“Sounds fun. Hope you’re not stressing too much. Maybe the next time I see you, you’ll be all wrinkly and tired all the time.” I joked, a sly smile on my face.

“Oh, that won’t be happening anytime soon!” He laughed. “Seriously, I got this.”

“—Hey, (y/n).” I looked up from my desk only to be met by Sapnap’s firey gaze. “You got a moment?” He quickly glanced at my phone before returning his eye on me. “We’re having a mini meeting, and we need you in on this one.”

That’s… Strange. I’m usually not called to Hero meetings.

“Oh, uh—” I sat up properly. “—Sure. Just let me wrap up this call.” I said. Sapnap nodded before walking out of my office.

“Need to go?” Quackity asked through the phone.

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” I said reluctantly. My mind raced with a thousand thoughts. Was I in trouble? Did I do something wrong with the last interrogation? “I’ll talk to you, alright, Q?”

“Of course, just let me know whenever you’re free. I’ll catch you later, (y/n).”

“Yeah, see ya!”

I clicked off my phone, sliding it down my pocket.

Oh God.

What’s going on?

I was able to locate the meeting room pretty swiftly. Through the window I saw George, Karl, Sapnap, and Clay. Karl, with his usual bubbly energy, waved at me through the glass. I smiled in return before hiding myself behind the wood door. Through my nostrils I took one deep and steady inhale before slowly letting it go through my nose. Once I felt ready enough, I placed my hand on the cold silver handle, twisting it open to be greeted by the chilly room.

The room wasn’t too extravagent. The walls were painted a navy blue with a long wood table. The ends of the table had one chair while the side parts had two on each side. I decided to take my seat next to Karl with George in front of me and Clay at the end.

“So, you’re probably wondering why you’re here.” Clay started.

“Yeah,” I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “This isn’t my usual setting, y’know.” Since my power is feared to be too dangerous, I’m usually working in the interrogation and detainment center. It was kind of pitiful thinking about how I’m more used to isolated rooms and gray colors with a criminal in front of me, rather than a nice cozy meeting room with my friends.

“Well… George, Clay, and I came up with a new fighting strat, and I think with your powers, we may finally put the supervillains out of business.” Sapnap grinned. I tilted my head a little.

“What do you mean?” I asked. Clay then stood up and walked behind George and Sapnap where a dry-erase board was located. The two of them turned around, attentive to what Clay had to say.

“Alright look, we already know the Syndicate is our supervillains.” Clay explained, drawing on the board. “Siren, Blade, and Zephyrus being the most threatening of them all. Especially when the three of them are together.” He wrote down their names before circling them all into one group. “I believe with our data now and enough studying, we can analyze their behavioral patterns, what their priorities are, etc.”

I nodded my head, a bit confused on where this was going. I looked over to Karl, who seemed just as confused as I was.

“So, what does this have to do with me?” I asked. Clay smiled, pointing at me with his marker.

“I was just getting to that.” He wrote my name on the board before turning back to face us. “If you could watch these main three—” he pointed at the board. “then you'll have enough information to make convincing enough hallucinations. Enough hallucinations, means more distraction as they fight, which means more wins for us!” he cheered.

I sat there, hands folded in my lap. All four of them had their eyes on me, expecting some sort of comment or response. “…So,” I broke the silence. “I'm basically like.. The secret weapon?”

Karl eagerly nodded as he pulled me closer with an arm. “Yeah! We're finally going to have you fighting with the big guys! Isn't that super cool?”

“Mhm,” George hummed. “You won't be stuck doing interrogations at the detainment center anymore. You’ll be on the battlefield!” He exlcaimed, a small smile on his lips.

This was a lot to take in at once. Frist, I had to stalk the three most dangerous members of The Syndicate for some time, then with enough information, I’ll finally be on the field going on missions?

“So, what do you think, (y/n)?” Sapnap asked, his hands folded on the table.

I looked at all the faces around me. It was barely clicking to me that I finally have the chance to be out there, with my friends, fighting against the villains. It was something I dreamed of doing ever since I moved back to L’Manburg.

“I’m in.” I said proudly.

What could go wrong?

After laying out some planning, I left the HQ and decided to take a bus to Eastside. Besides the Hero District and South Bay, I haven’t been around the other parts of the city, as least in civillian form. Mainly because I was looking to avoid a certain… Family. I haven’t seen the Soot family since I broke up with Wilbur that night. I felt too guilty of our actions, and frankly I swore I would never see Wilbur again after I moved away. Avoiding him in the neighborhood and in school was a hassle by itself.

Once I made it to Eastside, I hopped out of the bus and began walking to a familiar cafe. I figured if I was going to go out exploring, I should go to an area where it was least likely running into the Soots. I turned on my headphones, and began my walk. In my backpack I had my laptop and sketchbook where I was going to plan out my missions.

Once I looked up, realizing I was greeted by the huge sign that read “Puffy’s Cloudy Cafe.”

Alright, here we go.

I pushed open the door and immediately I was hit with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked pasteries. I heard a loud gasp in front of me, and I was met by the familiar face of Foolish.

“(Y/N)!” He exclaimed, as he nearly hopping over the counter, I ran up to him and we engulfed in each other in a warm hug.

“Hey, Foolish! How have you been?” I smiled, pulling away.

“I’ve been doing okay! Still working at the cafe, as you can see!” He chuckled. “Where have you been all these years?! I haven’t seen you since graduation!” He asked, placing his hands on his shoulders.

“I left the city to go to University. I only moved back a few months ago but now I live in South Bay!” I smiled. He nodded, taking in my words before pulling away.

“Have you talked to…?” He trailed off, but I knew what he was talking about.

“I haven’t.” I lightly chuckled. “Not since he walked across that stage, but even then, I wasn’t even talking to him like that.”

Foolish tilted his head, a curious smile on his face. “Y’know, I still remember during graduation, you were literally screaming and cheering him on so loudly! But then you tried to shape up as if no one heard you!”

I laughed, punching him the shoulder. “Hey, shut up! Maybe I just got a bit carried away…”

“Mhmm,” He hummed. “Well, I’m about to clock out now and head to Eret’s place—”

As if on cue, two figures walked through the cafe doors.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

You’ve genuinely got to be fucking with me.

Two guys stood in front of us, but I only paid attention to one of their faces.

Those chocolate brown eyes stared back at me. Those eyes I fell in love with the moment I saw them for the first time. They were wide, and they didn’t stray away from mine. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but he stopped himself.

“Hey Toms, hey Wil!” Foolish excitedly introduced. “Wilbur, you remember (y/n), right? She’s finally back in town—!” Before he continued, I kicked him in the foot, earning a loud yelp. He got the hint and backed away from the conversation.

“I— I got work to do.” I quickly mumbled. From the corner of my eye I saw Wil raise his hand out of protest, but I ignored it to hastily find a seat.

I found a duo seat next to the window. I placed my bag in one of the seats to take out my laptop and then sat in the other seat. I jolted my laptop open, somewhat smacking the keyboard impatiently to wake it up.

Ugh, stupid, stupid!

I put my head down, covering face with my arms. My leg shook rapidly from under the table. I shouldn’t have came here. I shouldn’t have came here at all. Who was I to think it would be safe to travel in this area anyway?! This was a stupid idea!

“You must’ve gotten ugly if she was going to run away that fast, man.” I heard a gruff voice snort followed by a sound of someone being shoved.

“T-That’s not true! I… Ugh… Just get to work, asshole.”

That familiar voice.

My heart fluttered at the sound of his deep voice. That deep voice that used to tell me how pretty I looked everyday and asked if I needed help with homework.

But it was the same voice that killed all those men, and maybe even more after that night.

I shook my head. Maybe a coffee would fix my racing thoughts.

I got up from my table and went up to the counter. There I met that boy that was standing next to Wil earlier. He had a red and white shirt under his barista apron. He and blue eyes and a mess of blonde flopped on the top of his head, but what was most distinguishing about his hair was that streak of white.

His eyes widened briefly before a sly grin formed on his face. “Welcome to Puffy’s Cloudy Cafe, what can I get you?” He asked.

“I’ll just have an iced caramel coffee.” I forced a smile on my face. He clicked on some things on the cash register before looking at me again.

“And what’s the name?” He asked.

“(y/n).” I said plainly.

“Alright, I’ll have your order done in a minute.” He said. I nodded, handing him my card. As he swiped in my order, I placed a decent amount of cash in his tip jar. He looked up a bit, a smile quirking up when he realized how much money I put in. “Jeez, dude, what job are you working?” He asked rather jokingly.

“Uhh,” I bit my tongue a bit to hold back my actual answer. “—criminal justice.” I exclaimed, which wasn’t technically a lie. The barista handed me back my card. “Thanks,” I glanced down to look at his nametag. “Tommy.” He nodded, and I headed back to my seat to begin my work.

My laptop had started up, welcoming me with my sunset background. I opened up my web browser and created a word document to jot down all my notes and plans on how I could start stalking the Syndicate. Should I be saying “stalking?” It sounds pretty vulgar. My main focuses had to be Siren, Blade, and Zephyrus. So I figured that maybe I should start with Siren, though that was sort of risky to get into. What was his superpower again..?

“Order for Wilbur and (y/n)!”

Oh, wow.

This kid had to be some kind of fucking troll.

I sighed, reluctantly standing up from my seat. I noticed that Wil was approaching as well, slow with his footsteps. I looked over to Tommy who had this devious grin on his face. Once I walked up to the counter, I noticed that only Wil’s order was on the counter. It had to be either a flat white or a hot coffee with four shots of espresso.

“Here you go, (y/n). Iced caramel coffee.” Tom said, personally handing the beverage to me.

“Knew it…” I heard a soft voice whisper to himself.

He… Remembered my order?

“Thank you, Tom,” I smiled. He nodded, and I headed back to my seat. I took a sip of my coffee to cool down the heat that was rising to my cheeks before continuing my work. With careful listening, I could hear a bit of Tom and Wil’s bickering from the counter.

“Why the fuck would you do that?!” Wil whisper shouted.

“Look, man, they seemed interested! They were staring at your coffee order and mumbling something. Probably knows your order too.” Tom chuckled.

“Shut the fuck up! Don’t do that again, I’m serious!” Wil was practically begging at this point. I resisted the urge to turn around to look at the two. Instead kept my eyes on my screen.

“Okay, okay,” Tom reassured. “I’ll stop. But seriously man, you need to tell me about this when we get home.”

The argument ended there, and though I continued on with my work, the conversation sat in my mind like a brick. My fingers tapped against my laptop, creating rows of writing then sectioning them off into tables. I even enforced this new routine into my daily planner, blocking specifically when I would be working at the station to when I would be learning information about the Syndicate. I stayed in the cafe for another hour until I was finally content with my planning for the next couple of weeks.

With a content sigh, I finally closed my laptop. I looked around, realizing that the cafe was barely occupied. Wil was in another corner with a book whereas Tom was cleaning the espresso machine. I got up, stretching my legs and arms before taking my laptop and sliding it into my backpack. As I was zipping up my backpack, I felt a pair of eyes behind me, but I chose to ignore them. I slid my arms into the straps and fixed my hair behind me. When I turned around, I realized that it was Wilbur who was staring at me. His nose immediately buried into his book once we made eye contact. A small scoff escaped my lips, and I approached Tom at the counter for the final time.

“Hey, Tommy. Just a strawberry cheesecake to go please.” I said, sliding over a $10 bill. “Keep the change as a tip.”

“Coming right up, (y/n).” He placed the bill inside then counted the money before placing it into his tip jar. He then went to the back to grab a plastic container that had a piece of cheesecake drizzled in strawberry syrup with slices of strawberry on the side. “Here you are. You leaving for the day?” He asked, quickly glancing away before returning his eyes on me. I took the container of dessert before smiling.

“Yeah, it’s getting late. Don’t want to be out especially during criminal hour.” I lightly chuckled. Tom nodded, as if understanding.

“Alright, stay safe out there.” He waved. I said my goodbyes before heading toward the door. As I took another step, I heard footsteps approaching me.

“W-Wait.” I turned around, only to be met with a white button up shirt with light blue-gray stripes.

I looked up, and there he was.

His jaw was more defined than it was when we were kids. His hair was more poofy and grew curlier over the years. It was obvious he had grown out of his rounded features. Even his eyes were more narrow. But I knew those freckles scattered all over his face and how his pink lips formed a symmetrical cupid’s bow.

We both stared at each other in silence. One hand gripped at my backpack strap tight while the other clutched at my plastic container.

“Yes?” I asked. It was blank and straight forward, not letting any form of emotion seep through my words.

“I-I just… Well, it’s good to see you in town again.” He said, his hands slightly fidgeting. I noticed that his button up was rolled up to his elbows. His arms were a little bigger than what I remember and his chest looked more built with a curve to his torso. He was also taller. He used to be only a few inches taller than me due to malnourishment. He looked healthier and stronger— Much better than when he did when we first became friends. It made my heart skip a little.

“Oh— Uh. It’s nice to see you too. Sorry, I’ve just been super busy since I moved back into town.” I briefly explained, but even then, I felt like such an idiot for explaining in the first place.

“Oh.” He muttered.

We stared at each other again, not talking. The air felt thick and full of pressure. My heart searched for that familiar comfort in his prescence but it was no use.

“I… I should get going now.” I said, slightly gesturing to the door.

“Right— Uh… I’ll see you around?” He asked, a little glimmer in his eyes as if hopeful. A bit of me ached seeing him so desperate.

“Uh, yeah.” I quickly said without thinking. What? “Yeah, I’ll see around.”

I turned around and pushed open the glass door. The cold breeze slapping me in the face.

Holy shit.

Did I just talk to Wilbur Soot?

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

a / n ~ this was mainlyyy about lore for the reader. but dw the next chapter is going to be alll about siren dont even worry about it. notes of all kind are super appreciated especially reblogs!!

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