#truly those ones are the worst of the bunch

[heartfullofleeches]

I need to make out with lambchop sloppy style

Yan Mascot + Fast Food Reader

-

Two slices left-

Of all the calorific slop served at your marvelous place of employment, the apple halves included in the kids meals have to be the healthiest thing by far. The subtle hint of pure liquid sugar casting every bite is not lost on you, but there's still more nutritional and moral gain than the undisclosed meats customers, fellow employees, and even the company mascot themselves shove in their face on the daily.

Wedging the first between your lips, you raise your arm - waving the remaining piece of fruit in front of Lambchop's face like a hypnotist's beckon to their next victim.

"Want the last one?"

The demon remains a silent statute in your presence - chest extending with small breathes as their unblinking eyes burrow deeper into your psyche.

Pointing at your lips, your cheeks hollow as you suck on the wedge of fruit, teeth hooking in as you again ask. "Apple slice, you want?"

Like a sleeper agent, the goat lunges forward- activated by the apparent offer of your mouth and the juicy treat seat on your tongue. Catching your shirt by its collar, Lambchop presses it's stocky frame against your body as they hoist you up on the counter. Some may come to the assumption the close proximity was to prevent choking you out akin to previous times they've swooped you up like a kitten by its neck, but you know better than that.

The chunk of apple barrels down your throat from the sudden, abrupt jerking - caught by the invading tongue of the residential devil on the property as the muscle works its way past your parted lips.

Their hands path down to your hips - second handles to that cleaver and meat hook glued to their mitts at all hours. The honeyed flavor of the apple melts away to a faint note of raw meat and mint on their breath. So they had been using that toothbrush they pawned off of you all those weeks ago-

Riding with the flow, you slug your arms around their neck as your back connects with the surface of the counter - shirt crawling up your spine as rough finger draw beneath its bunched hem. You really don't mind sucking face with your personal guardian angel - demon, but they truly picked the worst of times to seek your affection. In the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of a face pale as snow - food and the tray that held it scattered across the floor.

Annnnddd the tally for mentality scarring customers goes right back down to day zero.

[impossible-rat-babies]

one day I’ll do a personal ranking of the relic grinds

[doll3scent]

★ Pornstar 5 ★

John Price x Cam girl! reader

warnings- 18+ -mdni, jealousy, alcohol, smut, explicit language, somnophilia, choking, angst w/ comfort,

wc. 6k

a/n. this took me forever

4, 5, 6,

master list 𓂃۶ৎ

Ghost had mentioned bringing his team along for your birthday. You and your friends had planned a night out clubbing, and you figured it was only fair to let him invite his mates—no sense in leaving him stuck with a crowd of twenty-somethings all night on his own.

You and John had been texting and meeting up a few more times since that first night. Each encounter carried the same charged secrecy—you kept your mask on, and he played along, pretending he didn’t know exactly who you were.

John feels the weight of guilt every time he interacts with Ghost, especially now that they’re back at base. He can barely look Simon in the eyes anymore, the guilt weighing down on him like a ton of bricks. He knows he’s betraying his friend, and he hates himself for it. But he can’t bring himself to stop seeing you. He’s addicted to you, to the sound of your voice, the feel of your body pressed against his…

John keeps telling himself he’ll end it, that it’s the right thing to do—but he can’t. He’s wanted you for too long. He spent months watching your cam streams, craving what he couldn’t have, and now that you’re his—truly his—he refuses to let go. Especially when you meet up, when the heat of passion fades, and you curl up in his arms afterward. You slip off your mask, resting your head against his chest, trusting him with one condition: he can hold you, but only if he promises not to look. And he never does—he wouldn’t dare break the fragile trust between you.

But the guilt gnaws at him. Every time John sees Ghost, he’s reminded of his betrayal. He’s been keeping this secret from his best mate, lying right to his face. And he knows that someday, this whole thing is going to explode in the worst possible way.

One day on base, as the team was gathered around after a long mission, Ghost cleared his throat, drawing their attention.

“Right, listen up,” he began, his voice steady but with a hint of annoyance. “My sister’s birthday is coming up, and she’s dragging me to a club. You lot can come if you want, I’m not about to spend the night stuck with a bunch of half-naked 20-year-olds who can barely hold their liquor.”

A few of the team members exchanged amused glances. Soap raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Sounds like you need some backup, mate,” he teased.

Ghost shot him a flat look, though there was a slight curve to his lips. “Exactly. Don’t want to be the only old man there with no one to talk to, do I?”

Price leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “What’s the plan? We just show up and blend in?”

“Pretty much,” Ghost said with a shrug. “It’s not my ideal night, but it’s for her, so…”

“Hey, if you’re buying, I’m in,” Gaz said, leaning forward with a grin.

Soap snorted. “Buyin’? Please, Ghost probably still thinks a pint costs a fiver.” Ghost shoots him a glare.

John was torn. On one hand, the idea of seeing you gnawed at him—he missed those stolen moments, the secrecy, and the way you felt when you were close. But there was a problem: you still didn’t know that he knew exactly who you were. You kept your distance, acting like he was just some stranger to you, and it killed him.

On the other hand, the thought of being in the same place as you and Ghost, all three of you in close proximity, felt like a ticking time bomb. The guilt, the risk—it was too much. But if he didn’t show up to the club, it would look suspicious. He couldn’t afford that.

Ghost’s voice brought him back from his thoughts. “You coming, Price?”

Price glanced up, meeting Ghost’s gaze. For a moment, he pondered saying no, finding an excuse to skip out. But he knew that would only arouse suspicion. And so he sighed, nodding reluctantly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll come.”

The night of, Price stood in front of the mirror in his room, feeling nervous as he checked his outfit one last time. He tried on a couple different shirts before finally settling on a dark grey button-up and a pair of black jeans. He ran a hand through his hair, frowning at his reflection. For some reason, he felt a strange mixture of anxious and excited. Maybe it was the thought of seeing you or the nerves about pretending he didn’t know who you were. Either way, he took a deep breath and steeled himself.

John stood at the bar with the team, his drink in hand, but his mind was elsewhere. Soap and Gaz were already in the thick of it, eyeing passing girls with shameless grins, their attempts at flirting fluctuating between mildly charming and painfully awkward.

Soap, always the loud one, had just cracked a joke that made a girl giggle-though John couldn't tell if it was from genuine interest or sheer pity. Gaz wasn't much better, leaning in with a smirk, dropping some line that sounded more rehearsed than spontaneous. John nursed a beer, his attention only half-heartedly on the women around him.

“Where’s the birthday girl?” Soap called out to Ghost.

Ghost took a swig of his drink before replying, “She’s always late, wouldn’t be like her if she was on time”. He rolled his eyes but there was a hint of affection in his voice.

A group of girls entered the bar, their laughter ringing out and instantly grabbing the attention of everyone nearby. They wore the skimpiest of dresses, skirts, and shirts—everything designed to make heads turn, and turn they did. Wolf whistles followed them as they made their way through the crowd, including from Soap and Gaz, who were both quick to take notice.

Price couldn’t help but look too, his gaze almost drawn to them instinctively. But then, his eyes locked onto you. His heart skipped a beat, suddenly lodged somewhere in his throat. His grip around his beer tightened, knuckles whitening as he processed the sight before him.

You were standing there, a vision in the crowd. Your outfit hit him like a punch to the gut—like you’d intentionally gone out and found the tiniest pink skirt, slashed it in half, then paired it with a matching corset top that left little to the imagination. Your white patterned stockings and pink heels completed the look, and Price’s stomach twisted with something he couldn’t quite name. His mind raced, trying to pull himself together. It felt like everything in the room had faded away, and all that mattered was the sight of you—so close, so real. And yet, still so far out of reach.

You pranced up to your brother, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug before quickly greeting the rest of his team with a few more hugs. When it was John’s turn, you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around his neck.

The moment your arms encircled him, John froze. Every instinct in him screamed to hold you closer, to pull you tight against him, to inhale your scent that lingered on his skin. But he forced himself to stay still, his body rigid as he struggled to keep his composure. His mind raced, trying to focus on anything other than the heat of your body against his.

“Uh—Happy birthday, kid,” he managed, his voice tight, strained as he patted your back awkwardly. He kept his eyes averted, though they betrayed him, roaming over you, taking in every detail of your outfit. His heart hammered in his chest as his mind locked on how little you were wearing. The fabric of your skirt, the curve of your corset top, it all felt like too much—too much for him to handle in this moment. But you, blissfully unaware of his internal battle, pulled back with a smile, completely oblivious to the storm you’d just stirred inside him.

You smile sweetly, batting your lashes up at him in that innocent way you always did, the one that made his stomach twist with something he couldn’t name. “Thank you,” you say, your voice light and playful, unaware of the effect it’s having on him.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach the instant his arms wrapped around you, his warmth seeping into you and making your pulse quicken. The scent of him, so familiar and comforting, only heightened the rush of emotions flooding your senses. You couldn't stop your mind from drifting to the other night-the way his hands had explored your body with such deliberate confidence, every touch igniting something deep inside you.

The memory sent a delicious shiver down your spine, and your cheeks flushed as you unconsciously leaned into his embrace, unable to resist the pull he had over you. He desperately wanted to hold you tighter, to pull you even closer, but he couldn't. Not here, not with Ghost right there, oblivious to the fact that his best friend was secretly sleeping with his younger sister.

Instead, he pulled away reluctantly, forcing a smile onto his face. “You, uh…you look nice,” he murmured. But the words felt hollow in his mouth, inadequate to describe just how beautiful you looked.

You smile softly, your cheeks warming as you thank him sweetly when he says you look nice. He seems so different than usual—nervous and cautious, a far cry from the commanding presence he has with you in private. It’s almost endearing, seeing this side of him, though you can’t blame him. He doesn’t know it’s you he’s been with, the person he’s been pouring his desires into. To him, you’re just another stranger, someone he feels freer with than someone from his real life.

Later in the night, after several rounds of drinks and conversations, your friend group led you to the dance floor, the music loud and vibrant. You and your friends all danced together, laughing and twirling in the rhythm. As the music vibrated through the floor, Price leaned against the wall, half hidden in the shadows, watching you dance with the others, a pang of desire and guilt twisting his stomach.

The music pounded through the walls of the club, the lights illuminating you in a kaleidoscope of colors as you danced with your friends. Price couldn’t tear his eyes away, watching closely as you swayed your hips in time with the music, your movements fluid and captivating. He could feel the desire welling up inside him, his heart hammering against his chest, but he forced himself to stay put. He was playing a dangerous game, and he couldn’t let anyone find out.

He watched as your friends pulled you further into the fray, each of them laughing and smiling, completely unaware of the tension he was feeling. Despite the noise and the chaos, he could only focus on you, the way your body moved, the way your hair fell across your face, the way your skirt rode up slightly as you twisted and turned. His hands ached to touch you, to pull you to him and feel your body pressed against his.

Price tensed as he saw a man approaching you, his eyes narrowing as he observed him. The man looked closer to your age, but still older than you, and the way he looked at you made Price’s stomach churn. He clenched his jaw, trying to keep his cool while his mind raced with thoughts of what this stranger could possibly want with you.

As he watched, the man leaned in and yelled something into your ear, trying to be heard over the music. You responded with a wide smile, nodding at whatever he said, and the sight sent a wave of jealousy through Price. His hands curled into fists, his possessive tendencies taking over as he watched the two of you talk.

The man then reached out and placed his hand on your hip, pulling you a little closer to him as he continued talking into your ear. Price’s jaw was in danger of snapping with how hard he was clenching it. He wanted nothing more than to march over there and rip that man’s hand off of you. But he couldn’t.

As you moved to the rhythm of the music, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt in the back of your mind. The man beside you was all smiles, clearly enjoying the moment as you danced and flirted with him, but something nagged at you. You knew it wasn’t right—flirting with someone else when your thoughts were still tangled with John. But then, you reminded yourself: John doesn’t know the cam girl he’s been so captivated by is you. It felt like a small comfort, a boundary you could convince yourself to cross just this once.

It wasn’t like you could openly flirt with your older brother’s captain—especially not in front of him. That was a line you wouldn’t dare cross. Tonight was yours, though. It was your birthday, and you decided you were entitled to a little fun, a little freedom from all the complicated emotions and secrets you were carrying. You pushed the nagging thoughts aside, choosing to focus on the present. The lights, the music, the laughter—it was all a release. For tonight, you could let go.

Price couldn’t bear to watch anymore. Every move you made, every laugh you shared with that man, felt like a knife twisted in his gut. He had no claim on you, he knew that, but the sight of you with another man still sent a surge of jealousy and possessiveness through him.

He took another deep breath, trying to control his breathing, trying to control his emotions. But his mind was filled with thoughts of you and him, the way your body fit against his, the way you cried out for him.

As the night drew to a close, the man next to you, the one who had been flirting with you all night, finally gathered the courage to ask for your number. He leaned in close, his voice slightly slurred with alcohol, as he shouted over the music, “Can I get your number? I really want to see you again.”

Price observed as you giggled, the sound hitting his ears like a physical blow. He felt his heart sink as you reached into your small purse and scribbled your number on a napkin before handing it to the man. He couldn’t stand it, the sight of you giving your number to someone else, not after everything you’d shared together. He had no right to stop you, no right to say anything, but it didn’t make the sight any less painful.

It’s late, past 1am, and you’re sound asleep, wrapped in the comfort of your blankets. Suddenly, your phone rings, jolting you awake. Groggy and disoriented, you fumble for your phone, only to see a number you don’t recognize displayed on the screen. Your heart skips a beat as you answer the call.

“..Hello?” you murmur, your voice still thick with sleep.

He grits his teeth, the surge of anger coursing through him, and forces himself to breathe deeply. His fingers curl into fists, but he knows he has to control it—he can’t let you see how badly this is eating at him. You don’t know that he knows who you are, and that’s what he keeps telling himself as the fury swells inside him. He tries to steady his pulse, focusing on the need to stay composed, to not give away how badly he wants to confront everything that’s been eating at him.

The temptation to ask you directly what the hell is going on, to demand answers, is almost unbearable. But he doesn’t. Instead, his voice comes out calm, controlled, though every muscle in his body is tense with the desire to let his anger out.

“Do you want to meet up tonight?” His words feel like they hang in the air between you, and he watches for your response, trying to push past the storm inside him, desperate for some kind of answer.

“Okay” your rub the sleep out of your eyes “I’ll leave the front door unlocked”

His breath hitches slightly at your words, and for a moment, he almost regrets it. But then he reminds himself that this is the only way forward. He needs to see you, to feel that pull again, even if it’s tangled with complications he hasn’t fully worked through yet. “Good,” he mutters, his voice a little rougher than he intends. “I’ll be there soon.”

The call ends abruptly, and as you sit there, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from your eyes, the weight of what’s about to happen starts to settle in. You don’t even acknowledge the fact of how he could’ve gotten your number. You know it’s dangerous, know it’s a risk, but your body hums with anticipation. He’s coming. And whatever this thing between you is, it’s about to get a whole lot more complicated. You sit up brushing your hair down, your tie your mask on before sitting on your bed, you then lay down planning on just waiting for John but you promptly fall back asleep.

When John arrives at your house, the night air is cool against his skin, but the anticipation burning in his chest keeps him warm. He stands for a moment at your door, fingers hovering just above the handle. His mind races—thoughts swirling between desire and the heavy weight of the situation. He has no idea how this will go, but he’s already too far gone to turn back now.

He enters silently, closing the door behind him and stepping carefully into the darkened house. The only sound is the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. He can see the soft glow of your bedside lamp peeking through the crack in your door.

He creeps toward your bedroom, finding you curled up in bed, your soft breaths steady and slow. The sight of you, peaceful and unaware of his presence, gives him pause. He watches you for a moment, unsure if he should wake you or just let you sleep. His heart aches at the thought of interrupting your rest, but his body aches with need, the tension in his muscles undeniable.

Gently, he steps closer to the edge of the bed, his eyes tracing the outline of your body beneath the covers. He swallows hard, trying to calm the growing fire inside him. He silently climbs onto the bed between your legs, your sleepy whimpers making his cock harden instantly. “My little girl thinks she can flirt with others and still keep her mask on with me? Not fucking happening." He enters your wet pussy slowly, knowing you’ll wake up to his invasion, without your mask on.

"I saw you, little girl. Flirting with that man like you were some kind of whore." He fucks you harder, his hands gripping your hips painfully. "You're mine, and only mine. No one else gets to see that face or hear those sweet moans." his hands move to your mask, yanking it off without hesitation this time. “I’m done with this fucking mask. I want to see every expression on your face while I fuck you senseless."

"Mmph..." You stir softly, your body automatically arching back as his slow, deep thrusts send waves of pleasure through your sleepy body. You’re large doe eyes flutter open, taking a second to realize what's happening. "Mmh... " he pulls your legs up high onto his shoulders, deepening his thrusts and forcing you to look at him as he stares intensely into you unmasked face. "Who's bed is this? Who's arms are you supposed to be sleeping in?" His voice is low, almost a growl, pulling you from the haze of sleep.

You blink slowly, still groggy, his words swirling in your mind as you try to piece them together. “…Yours,” you mumble softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you stir awake, the warmth of his presence settling over you. He continues rhythmically thrusting, pulling you closer and covering your mouth with his own, one hand firmly holding the back of your neck to keep you in place. “Mmph..." The kiss deepens, passionate and claiming - not allowing you to speak or register that your mask is gone.

He hooks your legs around his waist, changing the angle. His thick length hits you deep spots, making you moan softly and arch your back. "Baby..." He pulls back an inch to look at you again. Your lips are swollen from his kiss, your eyes half-lidded with sleep and pleasure. He slides a hand down to your side, possessively grabbing one of your thighs. He Spreads your legs wider, watching himself slide in and out of your tight heat. He's unconsciously addicted to the view.

"You're so fucking tight and wet for me, baby girl." He growls, his voice low and husky as he increases Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, his words sending a shiver down your spine. He smirks, his lips finding yours again, this time softer, slower, but no less consuming. his pace. His hand on your thigh tightens, fingers digging into your soft skin. “I could stay buried in this little pussy all day."

"You know what I love most?" He asks in a hushed whisper, slowing his hips again to tease you. “Watching your face when I hit this sweet spot just right." He purposely angles himself to rub against your G-spot, making you whimper softly. “But fuck..."

His mind flashes back to earlier that night, seeing you laughing and smiling at that man. He can feel his anger building, his body tensing as he remembers. He pulls out slightly, his hands gripping your thighs painfully. “But you know what i didn’t love?” he wraps his hand around your throat. “Seeing you prance around with that man” he squeezes

"You think you can just flirt with other men and ignore me? You think you can wear a mask and pretend to be mine, but then go out there and act like a fucking whore?" He spits out the words, his voice cold and angry as he pushes your legs wider apart. His eyes darken dangerously as one hand wraps around your throat, applying gentle pressure. He continues thrusting roughly, using his superior strength to hold you down. “You want another man's cock that badly?" He growls, tightening his grip slightly more. “Fucking answer me."

His hand on your throat squeezes just a bit more, cutting off your airflow completely. You can only manage a weak, muffled "n-no" before he finally releases his grip, allowing you to gasp for air. “Good” He hisses, resuming his rough fucking.

Your mind spins, wild and frantic, as his words tear through the air between you. The sharp edge of his tone cuts deep, each syllable laced with anger, jealousy, and something far more possessive than you'd ever anticipated. "You think I didn't know?" he growls, his hips snapping forward with a force that leaves you gasping. "Think I wouldn't recognize you, even with that little mask on? I've always known, Angel."

The weight of his confession crashes over you, leaving you breathless and disoriented. He's always known. Every time he spoke your name in that low, commanding tone, every filthy word he growled through the screen— he knew it was you. The realization sends a flood of heat through your body, but it's quickly overshadowed by the intensity of his thrusts, each one driving his frustration and jealousy into you. “And tonight," he continues, his voice rough and unforgiving, "you really thought l'd stand there and watch you let another man put his hands on you? Let him look at you like he had a chance?"

"I didn't-" you try to explain, your voice shaky, but he cuts you off with another harsh thrust, his grip on your hips bruising as he holds you in place beneath him.

"Don't lie to me," he snaps, his dark eyes boring into yours as he leans down, his breath hot against your ear. "I saw you, Angel. Saw you dancing, letting him get close to what's mine." His words hit you like a physical blow, a dizzying mix of shame and arousal surging through your veins. You can feel his anger in the way he moves, in the unrelenting pace of his thrusts, as though he's determined to erase the memory of anyone else from your mind and body.

"You're mine," he growls, his voice low and dangerous, "and don't you dare forget it." His hand slides up to your throat, his grip firm but controlled as he forces you to look at him. The intensity in his eyes is overwhelming, a storm of emotions that leaves you speechless.

"I've been patient," he says, his tone rough and filled with barely restrained fury. "I let you keep your little secret, let you play your games. But now?" He thrusts into you harder, pulling a broken gasp from your lips. "Now, you don't get to pretend anymore. I know exactly who you are, and you're not going anywhere."

The possessiveness in his voice sends a shiver down your spine, your body trembling as you struggle to process everything. He's always known, and yet he let you believe you were in control, let you think you were safe behind your mask. But now, there's no hiding, no escaping the truth-or him. “Say it," he demands, his grip on your throat tightening just enough to make your pulse race. "Say you're mine."

"I'm yours," you whisper, your voice barely audible as his dominance consumes you completely. "Good," he growls, his lips brushing against your ear as his pace quickens. "Because I'm going to make damn sure you never forget it again." He feels a savage satisfaction at your whispered acknowledgment, his grip loosening slightly on your throat as he continues his brutal pace. Each forceful thrust is a stake driven into the earth, claiming you utterly. “That's right, Angel. You belong to me. Every fucking inch of you."

His anger still simmers just beneath the surface, His hand releases your throat, moving to caress your cheek “Weeks, Angel. Weeks of wearing that damn mask, keeping your face from me. But you had no problem flashing those pouty lips and batting your eyelashes at that stranger, did you?"

“Im sorry daddy-“

His expression darkens at the apology, his voice dropping to a low, menacing growl. “Sorry? Sorry doesn't cut it, Angel. You thought you could play me for a fool, hide behind a mask and flirt with other men right in front of me."

“I didn’t mean it..”

He cuts you off with a harsh laugh, his free hand reaching up to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back to expose your throat. "You didn't mean it? You didn't mean to make me jealous, to make me watch you give attention to someone else?"

With a sudden, powerful movement, he flips them over so that you’re now on top, straddling his hips. He sits up, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he pulls you down onto his length with a forceful thrust. "But you know what, Angel?" He smirks wickedly, his hands sliding up your sides to momentarily rest just beneath your breasts. "Maybe I ought to flirt with some women my own age, hm? Show you what it feels like to watch someone else get attention." He leans back slightly, looking up at you with mock consideration.

He chuckles lowly, the sound vibrating through your body as he keeps his relentless rhythm, each thrust leaving you breathless.

The amusement in his tone sends a shiver down your spine, though it's laced with something darker, something possessive.

"Just imagine it, sweetheart," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear as he arches an eyebrow, his pace never faltering.

"Me, charming some gorgeous, mature woman right in front of these pretty eyes. Someone who'd appreciate a real man— someone who doesn't need games or masks." His words cut through the haze of pleasure and guilt, his deliberate taunt igniting a fiery mix of jealousy and desperation within you.

He's punishing you, making sure you feel the sting of his jealousy just as much as he felt yours.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, your mind spinning as he drives into you with purpose, his hips slamming against yours in a rhythm that's as intoxicating as it is punishing. The thought of him with someone else, of him turning his attention away from you, burns hotter than you can bear.

"Is that what you want, Angel?" he growls, his voice low and dangerous as he leans down, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth. "Someone else getting what's yours? Watching while I ruin her the way I ruin you?"

You shake your head frantically, your voice trembling as you gasp, "No... no, I don't want that."

His grin widens, wicked and satisfied, as he adjusts his angle, hitting a spot that makes your vision blur. "That's what I thought," he says, his thrusts growing deeper, harder, his dominance pressing down on you like a weight you can't escape.

One hand moves up to grip your jaw possessively, forcing you to maintain eye contact as he continues his powerful thrusts. “You should see your face right now, Angel. Those big doe eyes, realizing you fucked up." His thumb traces your bottom lip. “You look like you might cry, sweetheart. Like you might beg me to stay away from those other women." He leans in closer, his breath hot against your mouth.

“i’m sorry daddy..”

His eyes flash with a cold, calculating light as he hears the whispered "daddy." He pulls back slightly, his hands tightening on your jaw and hips. “You're too little, you know that? Too young to keep a man like me interested." You let out a sad whimper.

He smirks cruelly, his hips bucking upwards again. "See, you're making those sad little noises because you think I'm going to leave you for someone older, mature, more... suitable." He punctuates each word with a harsh thrust.

His eyes glitter with a cruel amusement as he watches the anguish play across your face. "Is that what you're afraid of, sweetheart? That I might find someone more woman than girl?" His thumb presses down harder on your lip, forcing it to tremble.

His smirk softens slightly, but the dangerous edge remains in his voice. “Tell me, Angel... would you miss Daddy? Would you miss these hands? This cock?" He deliberately grinds against you, hitting that sensitive spot again. "Or would you find someone else?"

Your eyes widen at his question, a flash of jealousy and possessiveness crossing your features. You clench tightly around him, your arms reaching back to wrap around his neck possessively. “N-no! I only want you, daddy..”

He growls low in his throat, the sound of satisfaction and dominance. His hands tighten on you, fingers digging into soft flesh as he begins to pound into you mercilessly. "Only me, is it? My little Angel, so possessive, so jealous..."

With each powerful thrust, he bounces you on his cock like a rag doll, his massive hands gripping you hips with bruising force. The wet slap of your bodies meeting echoes obscenely through the room along with your tiny squeals. "Fuck, look at you trembling on my dick”

He leans forward, his muscular torso pressing against your bouncing breasts as he growls into your ear. "You've got me fucking wild, you know that? Jealous little thing, clinging to my cock like it's your lifeline."

You shiver at his words, your pussy fluttering and tightening around his length. You turn your head to the side, nuzzling into his neck submissively. "Y-yes, daddy... I'm your jealous little slut... Only yours..."

His eyes roll back slightly as your words send a jolt of pleasure through him. He bites down on your neck, marking you as his, as he continues to rut into you with animalistic abandon. "Fucking right you are..."

Your vision starts to blur as he continues to claim you, his cock pounding into your overstuffed pussy, his teeth marking your skin. Your completely lost in the moment, your mind consumed by the overwhelming sensation of being filled and bred by him.

As your vision blurs, he looks down at you, his face twisted in a feral grimace of pleasure. "Look at you, fucking lost in it, aren't you? My little Angel, so small and tight, taking Daddy's big cock like the good little slut she is."

You can't even form a coherent response, your mind blanked by the intense pleasure. All you can do is cling to him, your body shaking and trembling as he continues to fuck you. "Mmmmph... D-daddy...”

He reaches one hand up to roughly squeeze your bouncing tits, his thumb and forefinger twisting your nipple cruelly. "Stupid slut, who fucking owns this pussy? Who's fucking you into oblivion?" His hips slam up brutally, driving his massive cock deep.

You wail, your body convulsing around him as he twists your sensitive nipple. You look up at him with tear-streaked cheeks, your eyes rolled back into your head. “Y-you... Daddy, only you..”

He growls triumphantly, fucking you even harder at your submission. “That's right, baby girl. Daddy fucking owns this cunt. Look at you falling apart on my cock..." His other hand moves between their bodies, pressing firmly against your clit.

Your whole body seizes up as he rubs your clit, the overwhelming stimulation pushing you over the edge. “DADDY!!" you scream, your pussy clamping down violently on his cock as you cum hard, your juices gushing out around his cock.

He groans loudly as your orgasm makes your pussy squeeze his length like a vice. He spreads your thighs wider, pounding into you non-stop. "Jesus Christ, Angel. You're squirting all over Daddy's dick..."

His voice becomes ragged with lust as he continues to fuck through your orgasm, completely losing control. "Fuck fuck fuck... You're a filthy little mess... Look how you creamed Daddy's cock...” His breathing turns heavy, animalistic "You're making me fucking cum...” With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself deep inside you, his thick length pulsing as he begins to fill your womb with his hot, sticky seed. "FUCK, Angel!" he roars, his face contorting in pure ecstasy. "Take Daddy's fucking cum!"

You throw your head back, as you feel his hot seed filling your insides, your body greedily accepting his release. You moan softly, "Yes, Daddy... Breed me~”

He collapses forward slightly, still holding your hips tight as his cock continues to twitch, depositing every last drop of his seed. “Dirty little slut... look what you made me do... I’m fucking you full of cum...”

He slowly pulls out of you, watching as his thick, creamy seed spills out of your well-fucked hole. He smirks darkly, knowing he's marked you as his. "Look at that pretty little pussy, all stretched out and full of Daddy's cum. You're a mess, Angel. My dirty, fucked out little whore." He reaches down to spread your lips apart, showing off your leaking entrance. "This is what you are for me, sweetheart."

You nod, dazed and your mind foggy. He lays you on the bed before going to your bathroom, grabbing a warm wet cloth to clean you. He returns to the bedroom, his expression softening slightly as he approaches the bed where you lay sprawled and dazed. Kneeling between your thighs, he gently presses the warm, damp cloth against your overly sensitive pussy, cleaning you up.

After thoroughly cleaning you, he tosses the cloth aside and lies down beside you, pulling you into his strong arms. He holds you close, your head resting on his chest as he wraps a thick, muscular arm around you waist, keeping you snuggled against him.

“…You knew the whole time?” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, a mixture of shock and disbelief woven into your words.

He stills for a moment, his hips pressed against yours, his weight grounding you beneath him. His heart beats a little faster, though his expression remains calm, composed. He looks down at you, his intense gaze piercing through your surprise as if daring you to question him further.

“Yes, Angel,” he says, his voice steady but low, laced with an edge of dominance that makes your stomach flip. “I knew. From the moment I first saw you, I recognized those big, innocent eyes. And when I heard your voice…” His thumb brushes lightly against your cheek, almost tender in contrast to the firm hold of his other hand on your hip. “I knew exactly who you were.”

Your breath catches in your throat, your mind racing to process his confession. All this time, you thought you were hidden behind the safety of your mask, your anonymity protecting you. But he had known—it was you, always you.

“Then why…” Your voice falters as you try to form the words, your cheeks burning with both embarrassment and the weight of his unwavering gaze.

“Why didn’t I say anything?” he finishes for you, his lips quirking into a smirk that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. His tone softens slightly, though it’s no less intense. “Because I wanted you to come to me willingly. I wanted you to need me the way I need you, Angel. And you did. You gave yourself to me, completely, without even knowing it.”

His words leave you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. His hand trails down to your jaw, tilting your face upward so you’re forced to meet his gaze.

“And now,” he murmurs, leaning in closer, his lips brushing against yours, “there’s no going back. You’re mine, Angel. You’ve always been mine.”

His lips crash against yours, swallowing the gasp that escapes you as his hand tightens on your jaw. The kiss is anything but gentle— it's heated, desperate, and possessive, like he's staking his claim on you in a way words never could.

You melt beneath him, your hands instinctively reaching up to grasp his shoulders, your fingers digging into the firm muscle as he deepens the kiss. His tongue slides against yours, commanding and insistent, leaving no room for hesitation or second-guessing.

The world outside fades away, the only thing grounding you to reality being the feel of his body pressed against yours and the relentless intensity of his kiss. When he finally pulls back, just enough to let you breathe, his forehead rests against yours, his dark eyes boring into yours with an intensity that leaves you trembling.

"You're mine," he growls, his voice rough, his lips brushing against yours as he speaks.

"Say it."

Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, his words sending a shiver down your spine. "I'm yours," you whisper, your voice unsteady but sincere.

He smirks, his lips finding yours again, this time softer, slower, but no less consuming.

The kiss is deliberate, his every movement a reminder of the power he holds over you— and the hold you clearly have over him.

[phantomrose96]

What the hell happens in the pikmin game?? Those little colourful bitches have been around for ages, but i never bothered looking them up, i just figured they were cute little mascots of some game. But your posts are making me question everything. Is it a horror game? (I know i could just google it, but asking you is funnier)

Yeah you're right asking me is much funnier :)

Pikmin is a fun and relaxing game! You play as a little astronaut man who gets to spend his days growing Pikmin, who are sweet and peaceful little plant creatures with leaves, buds, or flowers on their heads. You can corral them around with a little trumpet, like a bouquet of flowers following you through the pretty and whimsical landscapes of planet PNF-404 :)

Wait did I say fun and relaxing?

Sorry, typo.

It's a brutal skill-based survival game (❁´◡`❁)

So then maybe you're wondering, what's up with the Pikmin? What was that about growing a bunch of little flower guys? Well growing the Pikmin is super important!

It's super duper important mainly because you need to replace the Pikmin who die in the carnage of battle for you!

Battle against what?

Everything.

See on PNF-404, Pikmin are the bottom of the food chain. Just about every living breathing creature on this planet is orders of magnitude larger than the Pikmin and munch Pikmin by the hundreds for breakfast. Predators will do this instinctively. They will do this unprompted. They will do this while you're not looking. They will do this endlessly until every last Pikmin is dead.

So... what good are the Pikmin? What chance do they stand?

Really easy. Pikmin are the most violent creatures in the entire game 🥰🥰🥰.

How else do you survive when you're small and fragile other than incredible violence? Pikmin can exist out and about in swarms of up to 100. And the only way to survive predators as small little leaf creatures is to beat those predators to death with incredible mob violence before they can kill all of you.

Pikmin don't die like plants. They die like warriors.

And sometimes, this is the hardest mechanic to handle. Left to their own devices Pikmin will seek to shed blood. It's up to you to call them away from orchestrating their own demise, their own pursuit of the glory of Valhalla. It's in their nature. It's in their plant-blood.

And they go down hard. They shriek when snapped up in the jaws of predators. They glub and wail when drowning in water. They trill out screams when on fire. They choke and cough in poison. They die instantly to electricity. And you'll know a Pikmin is well and truly dead once it lets out a final whimper, and a ghost drifts away from where it once stood. This can happen by the dozens. This can happen to all 100 at once.

So wait, wait I've gotten far ahead of myself. Why the violence? Why the death? Why the fighting? What was that about a little astronaut man?

Well your astronaut man is Olimar, an honest and simple family man who's a freight ship captain from his home planet of Hocotate. He's a truck driver! He's just a guy taking his first vacation in years.

And a meteorite strikes his ship, tearing it to pieces as it crash-lands on a completely uncharted planet. Welcome to PNF-404...

And so you're Olimar. A truck driver. A nice dad. A victim of capitalism with the world's worst boss. Out on vacation.

Your ship is destroyed. No one is coming for you. No one will save you.

The oxygen on PNF-404 is poisonous.

You have 30 days before your life support system runs out.

You have 30 days until you die a brutal and lonely death.

Your only hope is to find every scattered missing piece of your ship--30 of them--strewn across the planet, return them to your ship, and repair it, before your 30 days are up.

But this is simply impossible. You're one tiny little man. You wouldn't be able to lift a single piece of your ship, let alone 30 of them, let alone doing so while fending off the wildlife hellbent on killing you.

But the Pikmin seem to like you...

So all that death? All the carnage and destruction? It's all in the effort to repair Olimar's ship before he suffocates. You pave a path of destruction decorated with the bodies of any creature that stands before you and your missing ship pieces.

The Pikmin do it. The Pikmin trust you. The Pikmin follow your command and die by your command. After all, you're growing their species. Oh did I forget to explain that part? The "how" of how growing Pikmin works?

Simple. Pikmin are grown from the corpses of the creatures they kill :).

If you kill something, the Pikmin take it back to their base and process it for pieces, and grow new Pikmin from it. That's how you get all the nice little flower creatures following you around. :)

Is it good enough? Can you sleep at night knowing that 50 creatures who trusted you implicitly were slaughtered under your misdirection? All to retrieve a hunk of metal which is 1/30 of the hope of getting you home alive? 100 slaughtered? 200? Day 30 is approaching. Things are looking bleak.

You're Olimar. Day 30 has arrived, and you haven't fully reconstructed your ship. You have no option to stay. Your life support has run out. You watch the Pikmin you've left behind, as you attempt to start up your ship which has not been safely repaired.

You try to take off, and try to make it home.

It does not go well.

But at least the Pikmin have another corpse to carry.

[utterlyotterlyx]

In Another Life

Azriel x F!Reader

Summary - Once upon a time, a certain Shadowsinger found his mate in the right person but the worst time.

Warnings - a pure fluff fest, a little bit of angst, fated mates, descriptions of loss and grief, mentions of death

Note - This is my first fic back after a bit of a hiatus so be nice please haha, I'm getting back into the groove x

"Avoir elle est avoir les etoiles."

Azriel's shadows and ears alike perked upward at the familiar yet foreign tongue that had drifted through the room, finding him where he stood in a far corner, away from anyone who may be wanting to keep an eye on him.

Balls had never been something he was keen on, always attempting to find an excuse to be elsewhere whether it be a mission or some pitiful plead to stay home.

But his ire didn't quite meet him in the instances where he knew that his mate would be present. His perfect, beautiful, untamed mate.

To have her is to have the stars.

Eris' wickedly devious drawl played in his mind. The newly appointed High Lord of Autumn had always had an affinity for you despite you only finding your feet upon Prythian once a year. Eris didn't seem to care that you had a mate, albeit, a mutually yet unofficially rejected one, and seemed to believe that he would be able to turn your head quite easily.

The Nether was the place you had called home after the rejection of something you had begged the mother for your entire life. Azriel wasn't sure how it had happened, not only how you had become a stranger to him so quickly, but how exactly you had ripped open the fabric of time and space with anguish once your brother had died in your arms; creating another world that lived only thanks to your lifeforce, a place where those you had lost remained, a place you had followed them to.

Each year, you would store enough energy away to keep that pocket world safe for a few hours just so that you could return to the surface.

Azriel counted down the days until he would be able to lay his eyes on you again. Prythian was also used to holding a collective breath, feeling the power of you coil around them, turning the air electric just as it would go before a thunderstorm ravaged the skies.

Then you were there.

As ethereal as always, dressed in the finest of silks that coursed from your breasts to your feet, the fabric washing over each curve on the way down. Sleeves fell lax from your shoulders, and you hair was as it always had been, loosely curled and flowing down your spine.

It was Amren who had gone to you first, she always had; the two of you had been close friends when you had called Prythian your home. With a genteel grin, you swept the firedrake into your arms, your soft giggles becoming the sonnet to Azriel's dreams as he watched your lips tilt upward and body relax as you welcomed more into your embrace.

Accepting the bond hadn't been an option once Fin had passed, you had ripped open that world so fast and knew that Fin, and whoever else now lay in there, wouldn't survive another lifetime without you. Azriel had understood. He had walked you to that rippling portal edge and left you there with his kiss indented into the back of your hand, with perhaps a small promise that one day you'd both have what you truly wanted.

Before that, Azriel had doted on you whole-heartedly. Thanks to Mor and Amren he knew all the things that you deeply and secretly adored, most of them he already knew from making it his mission to know you from the inside out, but he appreciated the tips nonetheless. Azriel courted you like a true gentleman, holding doors open and bringing you so many bunches of flowers that you had run out of vases to put them in, which only meant that he had to go and buy you more.

Azriel knew that you had a guilty pleasure for red velvet cake, so he made sure that every week he would collect two small cupcakes to sit at the Sidra edge to eat with you. Books held a special place in your heart, so he ensured that he would fine every new published book before you could and add it to your impressive collection. He knew the exact place that you liked to be kissed, at the corner of your mouth between your lips and dimple; and where you liked to be touched, that being on your elbow or the small of your back.

He didn't like to admit it, and he never did easily, but the day you left him had been the worst day of his life. A period had gone by where he refused to leave his room because he sheets still held your scent, of morning mountain rain and fresh springs; he also refused to eat for awhile, not being able to stomach it thanks to the bond coiling in terror inside of his soul.

Life without you was dim, but he kept it together each year for you, just so that you didn't worry, just so that you never felt bad for choosing to spend whatever time you could with the brother you loved so much.

From what he knew, The Nether was a dark and cold place, born from the despair inside of you from the moment you had lost Fin. The world you had created represented your anger and sadness. You had told him one year that it rained a lot, and that the palace where you lived was broken in so many ways, just like you. Azriel could tell that it was a dreary place because you seemed to get more pale each time he saw you.

He had always believed that you were brought into the world to make the sun cry with jealousy, and he had told you as such one more than one occasion.

Once you had done the round with your once shared family, letting go of Rhys and Feyre with a small pinch on the formers cheek, your eyes found him in his usual corner, like they knew exactly where to drift to next, and his soul set alight by the glimmer of adoration he found laced within them.

It only took you a moment to excuse yourself from Rhys and cross the amber lit ballroom to stand before him, peering upward through those lusciously thick lashes that he used to run his fingers over. After a longing sweep over his face, you smiled, "Hello, Az."

Mother above.

Even your voice was enough to make his knees tremble, so siren-like, it was as warm as embers and as sweet as honey, but sultry in ways that Azriel had never seen in anyone else.

"Hello Poet," he smirked at your rolling eyes and the slight huff that fell from your lips. You had always hated the little nickname, but didn't mind it so much when it came from him.

One of the things he was most thankful for was the way nothing ever changed between you; you both knew how much you loved one another, and how long you'd both happily wait until the time was right.

The way the lights of the Autumn Court ballroom caressed your skin was mesmerising, it made you almost glow in the cream dress that you adorned, a simple gown that had Azriel turning into a rabid beast inside. "How is Fin?"

The smile on your mouth faltered, and your brows twitched, and look so vacant came over your eyes that Azriel's heart almost stopped at the sight of it. Shaking it off, you forced a smile, one too big to be real, and told him, "He's doing well. He's been making me insane with the damned piano in the foyer."

Much like how The Nether matched your melancholy, there were sentimental items within it that you had pulled from Prythian. The piano was one of them. It was the item that made Azriel realise that you were mates, when he heard you playing a blissfully calm melody accompanied by your infamous voice, singing a sonnet of love and loss, of hope and dreams. The song was about him, you had later admitted, and that did was make him love you more.

Though, the flicker of sadness in your eyes did little to convince Azriel that things were alright, and he sent a mental message to Rhys of it, of the forced smiles and glazed orbs, and of how you kept on fidgeting with your fingers, a thing you only did when you were hiding something.

It didn't take a literal spymaster that long to figure out your tells.

Azriel played along, "Surely he isn't that bad?"

With a supple shrug, you answered, "He quite good at it actually. It just reminds me of different times."

Of times when our lives were entwined.

"I dreamt of you the other night," you told him nervously, glancing around and sending warm yet curt smiles to anyone that passed, just hoping to get a glimpse of that holy face. "It felt so real. You were sat at the piano beneath the open roof. The rain had stopped for a moment but the stone was still wet and puddled in places, but you were playing such a beautiful song, and all I could was stand at the doorway and watch you. I didn't want it to end, and part of me thought for a moment that it was real. That something was real."

"Y/N," Azriel frowned, fingers brushing against the cool of your wrist, "What's happened?"

Consciously realising where you stood, you took Azriel's hand in your own, and pulled him from the room into one of the many hallways that descended from it. You pulled him all the way to the other side of the castle, only stopped at a large window that looked out onto the warmly lit gardens that you had walked in often once upon a time.

Turning to your mate, you couldn't help but allow your mask to fall, "Fin is gone," you admitted, holding onto yourself to keep yourself together.

Azriel took a step forward, raking his hair back and lifting your chin from the ground to meet his eyes. "What do you mean?"

In the moonlight was when Azriel looked his best, with that pallid cascade falling over his face, illuminating the sharpness of his eyes and jaw, and the hollows of his cheekbones. He always dressed to impress you, always opting for his usual black attire, but he knew how much you loved the open collar, just delicious enough to show off the contours of his chest.

"It was good for a long time, we were happy," you spoke softly, allowing Azriel to take your arms in his hands, "But he started to get sad, he started to feel like he didn't belong there. He said it was too cold."

"I never meant him to feel like that, I swear. I was so desperate to not lose him that I didn't realise that his soul might not harmonise with the darkness I had created," Azriel brushed his fingers over your cheek, tucking back a loose strand of hair behind your pointed ear, waiting patiently for you to carry on. "I let him go. I let him go to find another world that has everything I couldn't give him. He left me a little while ago, and I suppose that I needed some time to come to terms with it."

Azriel felt his throat tighten, he knew how much you loved Fin, how you would have done anything to make him happy. You loved that boy so much that you ripped time and space apart so that you could be together.

"Y/N- I'm so sorry," he gathered you into his arms, rubbing his fingers in circles atop the small of your back whilst your tears dampened the silk of his shirt.

"He's gone."

The pain in your voice made his essence rage with agony. Azriel nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of you so deeply that it may stain his lungs for eternity. He pulled back, still keeping a firm grip on you as he pressed his forehead to yours, allowing his breath to fan over you skin in the hope that it would centre you slightly.

"I know you feel like you're alone, Poet. I promise you that you're not. Fin was an amazing boy, and I know that he loved you in ways that you may never understand. Do you know how happy he was when he found out that we were destined to be together?" Azriel asked, accepting your stifled nod as a sign to continue, "He was overjoyed by it, all he ever wanted was for you to be happy. And, I think that on some level, he knew that The Nether wasn't right for either of you. Fin didn't want to hold you back, and I think he loved you so much that letting you go was the only way to ensure it. He knew you never would have left him, not voluntarily."

"I feel so lost," you all but whispered into the air, sniffling and using your pale sleeve to wipe the tears falling down your cheeks.

Azriel took your face in his hands, one that he had held in the same way more times than he could count, "Then let me guide you home, Poet. Let me help you. You are the sun, y/n, you deserve to shine once more."

If you didn't already love Azriel so deeply, then you could have sworn that you had fallen in love again in that moment. Part of you believed that you didn't deserve him, not after you had chosen to leave him, not after you had reduced your bond to a single visit a year. But Azriel had waited for you his entire life, and he would continue to wait for the rest of his days, be it old and senile or rugged and beautiful, your Azriel would always wait.

Without wanting to miss another moment, you rose on the tips of your toes to connect your lips to his in what could only be described as a life-altering kiss. The bond that had been cold for so long burst to life, shrouding you both in tendrils of gold that weaved through your hair and launched your collective shadows onto the grass below the windows.

His lips were soft, and his hands gripped onto your face before finding your hips, and Azriel knew that if he died from lack of oxygen that he could happily walk into hell knowing that he had held heaven in his hands.

Once you had both pulled back, panting and glowing golden with your fists furled into the silk of his shirt, you managed to smile and brush your nose against his. "Home," you uttered gently, stroking the back of his neck, "Sounds like a lovely idea."

Author's Note

First fic back, eek!

I'm so sorry if you don't like this - it's been so long since I've posted and I'm just trying really hard to get back into my writing style x

If you love it then yay! And if you want more then as always, let me know!

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

you’re all i want

bf!rafe cameron x fem!reader

cw — fluff, talks of bad home life

summary — rafe comes home from a long day and wants nothing more than his girl.

a/n — hi guys!! should i write more smut or soft stuff? i literally have no idea and i enjoy writing both so i’d love to know which one you guys like reading more

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

tough love was all rafe had ever known. well, he considered it love. anyone else who saw the way his family treated him would describe it as anything and everything but love. he wasn’t perfect, like everyone else, and it seemed as if his parents made sure he knew that in the worst ways possible.

and as much as he wanted to please his father and show that he could step up and be perfect, it made him hate being home. he wouldn’t say that he hated ward because he knew he didn’t, more like envied him, but the way he treated him made him truly unhappy like never before. it felt like he would never be enough for anyone.

until he met you.

you were all soft touches and loving words. it made him dizzy when the two of you first met. knowing that you were so sweet to him and he was so undeserving of it made him want to curl up and breakdown. nothing he could do would ever make you lash out on him the way his father did. you were forever such a gentle person.

you’d comfort him for hours if thats what he needed, nurse him back to health when he was sick, and listen whenever he needed to say something. never once did you interrupt him and tell him he was insane or stupid, you just sat and listened while nodding along and clinging to every word he said. he’d never felt so understood until you.

it made him sick to his stomach that he couldn’t reciprocate those actions. he was never shown them therefore he had no clue how to do what you did. he tried his best to comfort you in the way you comforted him but it just felt so unnatural. yet you would always tell him how proud you were of him for branching out and trying. even if it was just a hug and a kiss to your forehead, mumbling “it’ll be okay,” when you were sad.

you’d always been proud of how much you watched him grow and he’d be lying if he said hearing that didn’t make him want to continue to better himself. he loved pleasing you and making you happy, but it was different than with ward. he didn’t do it for the validation or the rewards, he did it because seeing you happy was genuinely such a satisfying feeling for him and knowing he could repay you in some way for your kindness towards him made his heart full.

being able to come home to you in your shared home everyday after work was like a dream come true. it was like his life had done a complete 180 and he had no idea what he’d done to deserve you, but he made sure to pray every morning that you never left his side. he was a better person with you and he’d never been this happy.

and today was just another long day of working for his dads company. maybe it was the big workload or the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about coming home to his beautiful girl, but the day had dragged on longer than usual. he wanted nothing more than to just be cuddled up beside you in bed.

he dropped his stuff on the couch when he walked into the house and locked the door. the house was oddly quiet and eerie. your car was out in the front so he assumed you were still home, unless you’d gone out with your friends.

he walked through the living room a kitchen but found it empty. he walked up the stairs and to your shared bedroom, finding you asleep on your stomach in your pretty pink sports bra that he loved, tucked under the blanket that was bunched up by your hips.

the sight made him smile at how peaceful and relaxed you looked. he almost didn’t want to disturb you. he quietly reached into his drawers and pulled out a pair of sweat pants before quickly changing and throwing his shirt off and to the hamper of dirty clothes then making his way over to his side of the bed.

he slowly placed his knee onto the mattress as it dipped beneath his weight while he leaned down and placed gentle kisses on the exposed skin of your shoulders. you stirred slightly and smiled in your sleep. “hi, rafe,” you mumbled groggily, still mostly asleep.

he laid down beside you and crawled under the covers, gently lifting them up your body further so you were warm. “hi beautiful,” he replied quietly as to not disturb you too much.

“was work okay?” you asked, rolling over to cuddle into his side and lay your head on his chest. his heartbeat was soothing to listen to.

he nodded even though you couldn’t see it and gently ran a hand through your hair by the crown of your head, stopping every now and then to massage your scalp. “mhm. was long but ‘ts okay. jus’ happy to be here with you.” you smiled even bigger looked up at him. you were so proud of how far he’d come. he’d gotten so much better at expressing his feelings lately. “you’re so pretty, baby.”

you pressed a soft kiss to his lips before laying your head back down against his chest to hide the blush forming on your cheeks. the sound of his heartbeat slowly lulled you back to sleep, making rafe’s heart throb with nothing but love. you looked so beautiful when in everything that you did.

he slipped the hand that was on your waist down underneath the covers and gently ran it up and down your back in a comforting motion. it made you sigh in your sleep and hug onto him tighter. he tilted his head to the side for a second to place a loving kiss to your forehead before closing his eyes and attempting to find sleep himself.

[jazjelspen]

my angel baby (part 4)

alastor w/ angel daughter reader

(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. )

(requested tags: @insomniacfigure @pooplyface1423 @mo-0-o @thekanrojimitsuri2 @maliciousmace @nevermorekisses @wildfire153)

(thanks to my amazing editor for helping me with this chapter!! @kruncher mwa mwa! /p)

It's been half a month, and you still aren't sure if you really wanna do this.

Sure you have done your research on spells, blessings, everything to protect yourself and maybe even others while venturing into Hell, possibly even in battle if you felt brave enough.

But nonetheless, it was conflicting. Not only were you going to see your father again but you're going to be literally in hell-- the terrible place was always a tempting topic to bring up in a hushed conversation, though few actually dared to do it. It's the worst place to go to after death, everyone on earth hated speaking of it and mentioning it was somewhat like a bad omen, at least from how you've seen others react to it at certain times.

Why bother diving head first into a realm where none of it’s events or residents were any of your business? The souls are in hell for certain specific reasons, so why bother saving a world that was meant to be the end of the line.

Oh but-- Charlie.

Charlie Morningstar's case and evidence sure intrigued you, but was it really worth the risk? Is it worth the sacrifice, the hiding, the possible dying to try to save a bunch of sinners? All of them, more than likely... are very much similar to, if not the same as, your father.

"Maybe..n-.." you breathed out loud, your hand moving away from under your chin as you were stuck in thought sitting at your desk. You were reluctant, of course you'd be.

You looked down at your bag on the floor beside your desk, filled with supplies and necessities for venturing into hell-- you planned it out but-- was it really.. Do these sinners truly deserve to be saved? Helped?

Why, of course they do.

At the very least.. some of them. 

Those who genuinely want redemption and those who committed sins in which they had no choice before they died or to help others. Those are the ones who should be saved.

And from what you learned in the court trial exactly half a month ago, you could only imagine how many sinners Adam and his fleet of Exorcists slayed that were genuinely hoping for a better chance at this 'second' life.

Besides-- why not save lives? Even if they weren't worth saving, even if you didn't know them personally or at all. Isn't that why you got into heaven anyway? Because you sacrificed yourself for someone you didn't know in the slightest?

You died for that reason, what's so wrong in doing it a second time?

Besides, souls like that one sinner Charlie showed the court, Angel Dust, could be on the path to light and eternal paradise... you could almost feel it in your bones and you bet Emily did too.

Wait, that's right--

Emily!

You could have almost jumped from your seat, Emily was the key to your path to Hell! But how to get to her-- Sera was always around..

Oh-- No, no, this is too good.

Ever since the court day Emily has been getting a bit more distant from Sera, if you could find Emily alone once without any inclination you were seeking her out then you could do it! Convincing shouldn't be too hard, she feels the same way as you do in a certain way.

You've been so caught up in your plan to escape disguised as an exorcist that you couldn't see the answer right in front of you! All those weeks wasted-- the initial plan was bound to fail anyway no matter the amount of preparation since, according to your research, the exorcist angels were scattered everywhere in their HQ like a beehive swarm; like busy bees buzzing with bloodlust. They seemed to all recognize each other and have specific physical attributes that you lacked immensely, even if you were to try and steal a uniform you really couldn't because-- you didn't know where they kept them inside.

You took in a deep breath in and out, 'I'm definitely not coming back unscathed..' you thought 'but.. everyone deserves a second chance, even sinners. And if they really don't deserve it then might as well save them so that they may continue living out their eternal sentences with no easy way out.'

You then looked towards a corner of your desk, grabbing a small and recent photo you took with someone very dear to you. You smiled softly at it before letting out a gentle huff of confidence and then carefully stuffing that photo in your bag for your trip to hell.

You then grabbed your bag, put it over your shoulder, and carefully walked out of your home.

It was currently early night in heaven, the sky as always was filled with stars that glow immensely so that heaven is never in utter darkness. At this time of the evening everyone was home and getting ready for bed, shops closing, people walking home. Thankfully you've hung around Emily long enough to know that when she's bothered by something, she doesn't go to sleep easily till she can fix it, and from what you knew the extermination in hell was still going to happen. 

Your wings started to gently flap and as quietly as they could they flew you up to the home quarters of Emily and Sera, them owning a taller building than the ordinary 'winner' would have considering their higher statuses.

It wasn't that hard to fly by since there was no need for security or guards, heaven never exactly needed to be protected from the inside.

You made your way around a high up balcony, one that you knew led to Emily's quarters. You noticed the balcony doors closed but light flickered from within; she's in there.

Your feet carefully plopped themselves on the balcony, nervously lifting your hand to knock on it-- still hesitant.

'Do I really want to do this?' 

It was too late to even ask that now, for your hand already knocked on the glass surface of the balcony door, breath hitched-- you awaited an answer.

...

The sound of pitter pattering steps could be heard from the inside as they neared where you were standing, a figure approached you from behind the glass.

Emily!

You smiled and waved at her awkwardly as she looked at you with a mix of shock, joy, and exhaustion. She opened the door to you with anticipation.

"______! How are you!... wait-- what are you doing here? It's late, you should be at home.."

"Look Emily," you said breathlessly due to your anxiety. "There's no easy way to say this but I need a huge favor from you.. bigger than anything I could ever ask for and will ever ask for. Not only that but- I'm sure you'll believe in my cause.."

She hummed in thought, eyes narrowed at you in an attempt to see if she should listen to her head or heart. "I'm listening..."

You then nodded towards the inside of her room, silently asking if you could go inside so no prying ears could hear you, even if it's unlikely. She read the words in your expression as she nodded and welcomed you in, closing the door behind her carefully.

You started whispering, "I need you to teleport me into hell."

Emily's breathing scuffled a bit, absolutely shocked from your request. "Hell??.. but why?.. ______ you nor I have ever been to hell!.. you could get really hurt or worse die..!" she whisper-yelled in concern to one of her best friends.

"Well-- we aren't sure if they can truly kill angels but I've practiced a few spells to try to defend myself. You know I'm a lot faster with my wings and if I find Charlie I'm sure she'll keep me from getting hurt!.."

"Charlie?.." she asked, now fully remembering what happened on that fateful court day "Wait, you want to go to hell to see Charlie?"

You nodded, "I have to, it's the only way I can survive there. Besides, I need to help her.. you know that what Adam and Sera are letting happen is unjust and inhumane.. you and I both know and agree about this and you can help me by sending me down there."

"but.. _____ I--"

"Emily, the extermination is going to happen in less than a month now.. there's no time left to leave this in the air."

"______.. are you even sure you'll survive a second down there? how do you even know you need to be there, if you really want to help you can try and stay up here where it's safe--"

You let out a quick sigh of fear, afraid that she's getting cold feet "C'mon.. even with your influence Adam won't stop and neither has Sera ordered him to pause for even a moment.. Besides, if they need to have sinners show their improvement and actually redeem themselves.. they need someone who actually has been in heaven and knows how to get there. 

They need a role-model, an example, and I'm willing to help and sacrifice myself a second time to at least give other people a second chance at 'living'.

This time, you shut Emily up, she's speechless-- you truly took her breath away with how determined you were. You were right to some extent, help from a 'winner' for sinners, become just like them as a teacher and be an example could genuinely make much improvement and possibly open the case once more. 

She softly smiled at you, a small amount of pride swelling in her chest, pride that she has for you and hope that she has in your mission.

"Well.. I'll take you there but not without one thing--" she stepped closer to you and folded three fingers of her right hand, then crossed you with them in an all too familiar pattern. Right shoulder, left shoulder, forehead, chest. The sign of the Cross. A sudden glow shined from you for a split second as if a star bursted around you,

"A protection spell. To protect you from the strongest blow that encounters itself towards you, it only works once but it's the strongest spell I know that can be an extra safety net for you down there.. meanwhile I'll try my best to convince Sera to think differently about the genocides.."

"Oh.. thank you Ems!.." you hugged her and she hugged back tightly, both of you guys brimming in a flurry of hope, determination, and anxiety. "I won't let you down.. I promise when I come back, and I will, Adam won't need to kill anymore people with his exorcists anymore.."

"Just-- be careful, _____. You're one of a kind, no one helps and brightens things up like you do.." she backed away from the hug only to hold your hands and smile at you, conflicted but convinced by you.

"Promise. I'll be back before you know it."

"Pinky.. promise?" she took out her pinky finger for you to hold onto, to reassure her that she's making the right decision. Helping you.. she doesn't want to lose you by sending you down your death sentence.

"Hehe.. pinky promise." you took out your own pinky finger to wrap it around hers, another spark lighting up around your wrapped fingers as if sealing the deal.

"Good.. once again are you sure you're prepared??.." she couldn't help but ask-- she didn't want to lose her best friend..

"I'm ready to face what I have to face, ready as I'll ever be." you let out a shaky sigh, betraying you slightly.

Emily let out a shaky sigh of her own before stepping back and slowly summoning a portal, it starting from a little glow in the air to slowly trying to mass itself into your height and size so you may go through with ease. It was difficult since it was mostly Sera or Adam opening them with constant ease and she never really had to until now, unfortunately though.. it was starting to make noise.

You hold your bag as tightly as you could, double checking if all the zippers are closed before preparing yourself for the even growing yellow portal.

"I don't know exactly where the Hazbin Hotel is so-- be... be careful _____.."

You looked at her and nodded with confidence, a look of strength emitting from your face. 

There was shuffling from the hallway outside Emily's room, "Emily? What are you doing at this time of the night?" Sera could be heard from afar, her voice loudly echoing across and even through the closed doors. 

Emily sped through her magic as she used as much of her mental strength as she could to open up the portal, it shouldn't be that hard but-- she never had to do this, she never thought she would do this. She was only in charge of keeping you happy-- but if this were to make you happy, then she's obliged to do so.

The portal was finally big enough for you to enter through, both of you hearing loud oncoming steps coming from outside the halls and in a quick motion you waved at Emily with a smile, her doing the same thing before finally-- you jumped into hell.

Right as you disappeared into the yellow and gold void, she let herself go from holding it open and right as Sera was opening the door, without even knocking mind you, the portal disappeared from thin air and all that was left was Emily standing in the middle.

"What are you even doing?.." asked Sera looking puzzled.

Emily chuckled nervously, shrugging her shoulders "Practicing for next show's fireworks..? heh.."

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You on the other hand-- were being slammed against a hard metal surface that smelled like rotten flesh and food, dried blood, and other stinky items. Hitting your head against it causes you to groan in pain and slowly hold your head, the smell beside you slowly making you feel a bit sick.

Your halo, clattering to the ground, its glow still present on it.. confirming your status to still be an angel. 

"Fuck.." you mumbled, rubbing the back of your head while picking yourself up from the ground. Looking at your surroundings you were in a sort of alley, the metal surface being a large dumpster. Your wings flapped a bit to stretch them out from the hit you took. 

You look at your halo and feel a huge sigh of relief get out of your mouth, despite knowing that only becoming a fallen could only happen if the court officially banishes you from heaven from all you knew it still felt good to know you're still the same you. Besides, you didn't know if a winner has ever become sinner before so.. that at least helped your mind keep itself from flipping over.

God..but your surroundings?

It reeked.

You peeked a bit in the dumpster out of curiosity but the intensity of the smell made you wanna puke so your nose begged you to move away. Now looking at the exit out of the alley you first picked up your halo to then place it above your head, floating above you right after letting it go. Picking up your bag once again to hold it tightly near you so no one would steal it.. being as cautious as you could.

Slowly peeking out of the alley you noticed a humble little town with colors of red, shades of pink, and filled with a few sharp toothed people. Everyone walked around casually and happily, like how normal humans would. Despite how huge the place is there seems to be a lack of crowds.. as if half of the town is missing.

Huh, this place reminded you of a sunny day in New Orleans when you were alive. Is this.. really hell? You haven't come across any people jumping out to kill you or anyone else randomly but a few explosions from far away still made you jerk from fear.

You carefully stepped out of the alley, feeling especially out of place the moment you started walking out. People with various shades of gray skin, everyone with blacked out eyes, sharp teeth, and all still dressed in clothes from around the time you died, maybe a bit of more older fashions but still.. reminded you of back home on earth just slightly.

Each step you took was a new question that you gave yourself.. where were you? is this a level or part of hell? does hell look this way all the time? is the Hazbin Hotel of walking distance? is Emily okay? why does the air smell weird? is your dad Alastor around? is it obvious im not from here-- oh of course it is you have a fucking halo damn it.

'Everyone looks almost normal," you thought 'Maybe I can try to find someone to help m--'

"Oh!.." you bumped into someone, someone small. You looked down to see a fairly normal looking child with eyes entirely blacked out, no pupils to be seen. Geez.. you couldn't lie but they creeped you out a bit.

"Hello there.. sorry I didn't see you.." you spoke to the kid despite how weary you were, giving it an apologetic smile while waving a little towards them in a very awkward manner.

They spoke nothing but instead flashed you a large sharp toothed smile that made your blood curl a bit, what made it worse was what it did next.

"It's okay missy! I like your wings!" Normally you'd smile more and make small talk but-- then the kid took out a cut off hand from behind their back and started chomping it on it as if it was corn on the cob. With your skin crawling and your face as white as a sheet from the shock, the kid then proceeded to run off nibbling on the bleeding hand.

You stood there frozen, your stomach begging to release anything you ate before you came upon here. You slowly turned your head to the right, your peripheral vision noticing a large wooden sign.

'Welcome to Cannibal Town!'

'Well that.. really explains it.' you took a few deep breaths as you tried to control yourself and your upcoming panic as to not alert other cannibals of your fear.. but you could've sworn they could probably smell it off of you.

Would they eat you? Are they going to eat you?.. but some have been looking at you walking by-- are they getting ready to pounce on you, bite off your flesh and--

You stopped in your tracks, noticing how further you are in the town from all your overthinking. You looked up to see that you are at the front steps of a small stage?.. gazebo..? you couldn't remember how hard your heart was pounding.

All of a sudden you felt an incredibly sharp pain on your wing, one that made you shriek aloud and everyone suddenly stopped and stared at you. You turned to see an old lady with a cane looking very similar to other residents around you-- BITE your wing?? what the actual living fuck??

The old woman seemed to grin and licking the golden blood from the bite she got from your wings, fortunately for you she only bit and didn't actually get a chunk of your wing off instead.. either way it fucking stung the way a large wasp sting would.

"Angel wings.. not bad at all-- OUCH!!" The old lady then let out a shriek herself, being hit by the end of a sun umbrella this time and whoever was holding it was shooing her away from you.

"Shoo! Shoo! Susan!! Run off now! We don't bite new otherworldly guests like that!" The voice shouted before the old woman scurried off just as fast as she came. 

You whimpered a bit as your bitten and slightly bleeding wing leaned towards your hands, your palms and fingers then gently caressing them as an attempt to soothe the pain with tears brimming and silently sliding down your eyes.

"Oh I'm so sorry about that sweetheart, that old hag has no manners." The same voice, a woman's voice, called out to you. Her appearance also looks similar to everyone else, the only difference is her large hat decorated with elaborate feathers and adorned with a small skull. 

"Let me see that dear.." she leaned in with her hand reaching towards your wing but of course you flinched away from her, absolutely not trusting her in the slightest form your first terrible experience and the many words of others before you.

You looked at her with fear you've never felt before, fear that you haven't felt since your death. You quickly backed away, your injured wing cowering towards your hands and chest.

'Holy.. fuck..'

"The names Rosie, sweetheart, what's a pretty little thing like you walking around here with no sense of danger?"

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alastor held you in his arms as your nine year old self was fiddling with a toy in your hands after a long day of being taken care of by one of Alastor's lady friends. The man was coming out of work from hosting his famous radio show as he usually always did and now was entering his home after a tiring day from work and honestly he wasn't up for taking care of you right now. If anything he should've probably let you stay with the woman forever and he wouldn't have to be dealing with baby troubles..

Yet everyday you somehow always gave him a reason to keep you despite his almost heartless nature.

He walked in his home and closed the door behind him, locking it as well. Walking over to the sofa he turned on a nearby lamp before setting you down on the cushions and let you be in your own world while he then went to go eat something himself. You didn't have to since the woman that babysat fed you quite well and you liked what she gave so there was no need for you to be overfed.

Alastor went to prepare a meal for himself, not saying much to you in the process since all he wanted was to eat and sleep so better to just fill one of the boxes on that checklist as soon as possible. So while you were still distracted he quickly made himself a meal and started eating so he wouldn't starve before bed.

You were playing with your toy the nice lady gave you, mumbling small nonsense here and there while playing around. Until you decided to speak up loudly from afar,

"Papa, can I ask something?" you talked as you kept yourself entertained with your toy.

Alastor sighed a bit "Yes dear, what is it?" exhaustion evident on his voice that contracted to his permanent smile, be it small or big.

"Is it true that when you found me, my mama and papa didn't want me because I was an ugly and loud cry-baby?"

Alastor almost spit out his food, inevitably starting choking on it. Saving himself from dying of choking by drinking his drink he set with his food and calmed down. "W.. Why do you think that sweetheart? Who told you such an untrue lie!.." 

In truth, he didn't actually know why you were abandoned in that alley. All he found when he picked you up was you wrapped around in baby blankets in a basket and a note with a date on it, most likely your date of birth, but other than that he never knew why you ended up there and why. He simply just took you in and called you his own.

"The boys in the playground I played with said their mamas and papas knew you, and knew you found me. They then started saying I dress too girly and that my real mama and papa left me because I was ugly and a loud cry baby and that's why I don't have a mama and papa." Your little voice seemed to shake a bit but obviously tried your best to hide it away even at this young of an age.

But your father could see and hear right through you. 

Alastor sighed before taking one last spoonful of his food before leaving his meal there to walk towards you, settling himself on the same sofa you both always make the best of memories, this being one of them.

"Well darling, those boys obviously have parents who don't educate them! And are as dull as a doorknob if they say all that foolish nonsense.. you do have a mama and papa!"

You looked at him incredibly confused, since when did you have a mother?

He noticed this and laughed a bit at your expression "Silly, I'm your mama and papa! I do both jobs! I make you food, I have clothes for you, I give you a home, I get you ready for school, I talk to you all the time because you're mine!" He spoke cheerily, as if stating a very well known fact "Their eyes also must not be working also since I think I got the prettiest daughter in all of New Orleans if I do say so myself!" he pinched your cheek playfully, making you giggle. 

He continued on "Yes, you did indeed cry a lot as a small tiny baby but do you think I would've kept you if you were an enormous crybaby? Of course not! Which is why I still have you here with me." Alastor-- "And you dress too girly??.. why, but of course you'll dress the way you do.. you're my little girl! how will my little dove be able to shine in her natural beauty if she doesn't wear the most marvelous pieces of wardrobe I can get her!" He then continued to pinch both your cheeks at the same time, some of your cute baby fat still present on your face despite being a year behind in heading towards the double digits. 

You giggled and laughed loudly, smiling.. just the way you should always be.

Yes he was too tired for this, he was downright exhausted, but hey-- if he can keep an unfaltering smile despite feeling this then of course he can keep up with you even if he's not in the mood. You're the only person who he doesn't like to see in pain, in tears-- 

It's his job to do this, for what is he if he leaves you wilting by yourself with no 'light' of your own to guide you.

Certainly, he wouldn't even deserve to be called your father.

"Oh and dear?"

"Yes papa!"

"What are the boys' names? And their parents? I must have a little chat with them soon!..."

Oh, Alastor.

[persevereforahappyending]

A Legacies Regret |11|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You were living in New York with your girlfriend, trying to forget about last year and just enjoy life, but that was easier said than done. (Sequel to A Legacies Secret)

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Attempted Murder, Stabbing, Shooting, Violence

Word Count: 3.6k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | A Legacies Secret Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14

You rode all the way to Gale’s place in silence. You felt Gale constantly glancing at you out of the side of her eye, but you refused to acknowledge it, you just kept your eyes focused straight ahead. When you finally reached Gales’ place you couldn’t help the way your mouth hung open. You knew Gale lived on the upper west side, but it seemed you didn’t realize how well off she truly was.

You couldn’t help but press your head against the window, trying to look up at the building. You furrowed your brow as Gale pulled down into a garage under the complex. Your eyes widened, it was a struggle finding parking in New York and yet Gale had an entire parking garage under her building. You didn’t even have a car anymore, you and the others walked everywhere and where you couldn’t walk you rode the subway.

You followed Gale out of the car, clearing your throat to try and hide just how impressed you were. The two of you entered the elevator, Gale swiped a card then hit the button for a floor near the top. Your eyes widened; she wasn’t at the very top of the complex, but she was pretty close.

Some soft music played in the elevator to fill what would have usually been an awkward silence. The elevator dinged as you arrived at the floor in no time. You stepped out into a small hallway that had less than a handful of doors in it. You had your hands shoved in your pockets as Gale step up to one of the doors and pulled out her keys. You glanced around as she unlocked the door, if there was less than five condos on each floor that meant the space had to be rather large.

“Make yourself at home,” Gale said, holding the door open for you.

Your mouth once again fell open as you stepped into Gale’s condo. It was an open floor plan with the door opening up right into the living room. From where you stood in the doorway you could see the kitchen, a long hallway that probably led to the bedrooms, and a balcony that stretched the length of the kitchen and the living room.

“Damn,” you couldn’t help but whisper.

You could barely afford the one-bedroom crappy apartment you had in Woodsboro to begin with. New York was another monster all together, you made more money bartending than you ever did back home, but rent was also more than triple what you paid. The only reason you were able to afford the current place was because you, Sam, and the money Bailey paid for Quinn’s share helped divide things up. You weren’t sure what would happen now, a Ghostface attack happened, meaning the apartment was no longer safe, meaning Sam would want to move again. Quinn was also murdered in said apartment, which definitely didn’t help, and a roommate, along with you, Tara, and Sam was the only way you could afford the place.

“Didn’t know a reporter’s salary could get you all this,” you mumbled to yourself.

“Helps when you’ve written several bestselling books,” Gale said.

You couldn’t help but scoff. Those books she wrote, though based on real events, tended to paint everyone in a bad light, except for herself of course. Sam got the worst of it but even Sidney was never portrayed the best.

“Profiting off others pain,” you commented. “Definitely something to strive for.”

Gale let out a sigh and when you turned around, she at least had the decency to look at least a little be ashamed. “I know you weren’t a fan of my interpretation from last year’s events,” Gale said calmly, like she was trying to choose her words carefully.

“It was a bunch of bullshit,” you snapped. “What you said about me, about Sam,” you started gesturing with your hands. You and Sam might not have been friends and only really tolerated each other because of Tara but she didn’t deserve all the crap Gale said about her. “The only one portrayed decently was…” your words quickly died, and you had to look away. You quickly tried to blink away the tears.

“You weren’t portrayed bad by any means.”

“No!” You snapped, the anger coming back to you in full force. “You just used me as a prop to make you look better.” Gale physically flinched at your words. “Abandoning your daughter to keep her away from the horrors of Ghostface,” you mocked. “How honorable.”

“I-I’m sorry,” Gale whispered.

“Well, at least our fictional relationship is better than our real life one,” you shrugged. “We really get to bond and reconnect.” You saw the tears in Gale’s eyes, but you didn’t even so much as begin to back down. “To bad in real life our relationship is nonexistent.”

You turned away, no longer able, or wanting to, look at her. You were the reason the two of you didn’t have a relationship. A part of you wished things could be different, you didn’t regret your decision though, maybe if Gale was different, if she had proven she could be different. In her book she made it seem like she did you a favor, giving you up. She went on about how you reunited, how the two of you grieved Dewey and despite how hard it was you found yourself able to forgive Gale for what she did. The thing about fiction though, it had a habit of being better than real life.

“I know,” Gale whispered. “When I got to writing I…” you glanced back to see her shaking her head as she tried to figure out what she wanted to say. “I got carried away; I started fantasizing about how I wish we could be. Meeting for lunch regularly, getting to know you,” she began to list off. “Being a part of your life.”

“Well, none of that is true,” you snapped.

“No,” Gale whispered sadly. “I’ve tried to respect your decision, in wanting nothing to do with me.” You were thankful she couldn’t see your face as a lone tear escaped your eye. “And I apologize for any pain my writing might have caused you.”

“Whatever,” you shook your head, your voice hardening. “I didn’t come here for apologies, I meant what I said,” you turned to face Gale again. “There’s safety in numbers. So, let’s just keep this simple.”

Gale’s eyes fell to the floor, but she didn’t argue, she just nodded her head. “Make yourself at home,” she said again, gesturing to the living room.

You opted to sit on the couch, stretching out your leg just enough to give your knee some relief. You checked your phone, making sure Tara hadn’t messaged you. The last text you got from her was her replying to you telling her to be careful. Nothing good ever came from you and Tara separating but you couldn’t just let Gale go off on her own.

Gale grabbed her laptop and set up next to you on the couch, though she made sure to leave plenty of room between the two of you. You glanced at her out of the side of your eye when you heard her mumbling to herself, it sounded like she was complaining about Kirby. You glanced at her laptop screen and saw she was still researching Jason and Greg, she was still investigating, trying to figure out who this new Ghostface could be.

“Jason and Greg weren’t involved,” Gale mumbled. “They were just in the way.”

“Meaning whoever this asshole is,” you said. “Doesn’t just want us dead, they want to be the one to do it.” Gale looked at you, you could see her clench her jaw before she nodded.

If this Ghostface just wanted, you guys dead they could have just hung back and let Jason and Greg try to fulfill their plan. You doubted it would work, you didn’t think the boys would have taken down any of you. That wasn’t the point though, Jason and Greg weren’t a real threat, they were just in the way of what the real Ghostface was planning.

“I’m hungry,” Gale said. “Are you hungry?” she was already getting up as she looked at you. “I have takeout menus in the kitchen.” Before you could even open your mouth, Gale was already walking away.

You watched Gale disappear into the kitchen and grabbed your phone when you felt it vibrate. You furrowed your brow at Tara’s name popping up. “Hey,” you answered, a slight frown on your face. It was a little early for them to already be done, that was unless something went wrong. “What happened?”

“Ghostface is there!” Tara shouted.

“Wait, what?” You sat up straighter. “What are you talking about?” You were already moving, intending to find Gale. “What…” your words died in your mouth as you turned around, Gale was standing there, phone to her ear and tears in her eyes.

Gale’s eyes widening was your only queue. You turned around, raising your arm just as Ghostface brought his knife down. You kept him at bay, but he used his other arm, pushing the knife closer to you. In the process of trying not to get stabbed you dropped your phone, you just hoped Tara wasn’t freaking out too much.

“Hey!” Gale shouted right before smashing her phone into the side of Ghostface’s head.

Gale yanked you to the side when Ghostface stumbled away. You didn’t know the layout of the penthouse, so you were really relying on Gale. She dragged you to the kitchen, rounding the enormous kitchen island. Ghostface recovered and now stood on the opposite side of the island.

You were at a standstill, the only potential place to go was out onto the balcony. Ghostface could easily block your path to the front door, as soon as you went one way he’d know where to move. The only options were to wait for Ghostface to get impatient and move first or to split up. If you went one direction and Gale went the other Ghostface would have to choose who to go after. You weren’t willing to take that risk, the odds were never in your favor it seemed when pertaining to Ghostface.

Ghostface rocked back and forth, their patients clearly waning, though they didn’t seem anxious about it. Finally, Ghostface moved, opting to take the side that would block the front door. You spun around, giving Gale a gentle shove as the two of you made your way to the balcony.

Gale flung open the door, not hesitating to rush out into the cold. You were right behind her, but Ghostface was right behind you. He jumped on your back, slamming you into the doorframe before you could actually get outside. You yelled out in pain as you felt the knife pierce your shoulder, just barely missing your neck.

The two of you tumbled out the door together. Ghostface was still on top of you, straddling your waist as you managed to turn around. Your hands shot up, catching Ghostface’s hands just as he brought down his knife. You gritted your teeth, trying to hold him back as best as you could but he had the advantage.

You couldn’t help but notice how familiar this position was, the first time you were ever attacked pretty much the same thing happened. You had been alone in your apartment when Ghostface attacked, managing to get the jump on you. You had turned the tables on them in the kitchen, and you had been the one pushing the knife towards Ghostface’s chest though.

Another key difference from last year was that you weren’t alone. You were reminded of that when Gale seemingly came out of nowhere smashing a potted plant over Ghostface’s head. As soon as you felt his grip loosen, you shoved him to the side, instantly finding Gale’s hand as she yanked you to your feet.

The two of you rushed to the other door. If you could just make it there, then you could lock Ghostface out. On the balcony he’d have nowhere to go, he’d be trapped for once. Just as you were about to run through the door someone grabbed you by the collar of the shirt and yanked you back. You were pretty sure you heard Gale call out your name, but you were too busy catching yourself on the railing of the balcony.

You groaned when your back hit the railing, you looked up to see Ghostface slamming the door closed in Gale’s face. You didn’t even have time to push yourself off the railing before Ghostface was on you again. They leaned all their body weight on you, forcing you to lean over the railing as much as possible. You held them by their wrists, trying to keep the knife away from your eye.

You glanced back, your eyes widening at the city below you. You weren’t sure which would be worse, falling to your death or Ghostface gutting you. Your breath caught in your throat as the knife came down, inching closer while you were distracted. You did your best to wiggle your body to the side, using enough leverage to get Ghostface stumbling forward.

The two of you went back and forth fighting over the knife. Ghostface kept trying to stab you and you did everything to keep that from happening. You weren’t sure when the two of you started moving, you were so busy focused on trying not to go over the balcony that you weren’t ready when the two of you crashed through the door.

You rolled over with a groan, glass crunching beneath you. Gale didn’t waste time asking if you were okay before she yanked you up and began dragging you down a hall. You furrowed your brow, it seemed going out the front door would be the better play but when you looked back you saw Ghostface already on their feet, though a bit disoriented.

Gale dragged you into a room, quickly pushing you to the back and slamming the door closed just as Ghostface got to it. She clicked the lock and ran to her closet. It wasn’t the time, but you couldn’t help the way your eyebrows raised at the closet, it was more than half the length of the room. You and Tara were supposed to share a closet, which was still mainly filled with Tara’s stuff, while yours was all in the dresser, which Tara also took over half of.

“Are you okay?” Gale asked. She looked over from what she was doing but quickly dropped her attention back to trying to open a silver case. “Fuck!” She smacked the case when the lights lit up red, rejecting whatever code she punched in.

“Are you okay?” she asked again.

“I’m fine,” you said.

Gale punched in the code again and finally the lights lit up blue. She grabbed the gun and was already aiming it at the door even though it sounded like Ghostface stopped slamming his body into it. Gale didn’t wait though, she fired a few rounds into the door, if Ghostface was still on the other side he surely would have been hit. Your entire body went rigid when a phone ringing shattered the already uneasy silence.

Gale picked up the phone and by her irritated tone you knew it was Ghostface trying to mess with her again. She walked closer to the door, firing two more rounds into the door. You moved to follow her but let out a hiss as you winced. You looked down to see spots of blood staining your shirt. You flicked your eyes to Gale; her attention was fully on the door and talking to Ghostface. You gritted your teeth as you gently lifted your shirt, getting a good look for the first time at the bit of glass stuck in your side.

You rolled your shirt back down as gently as possible, then powered through the pain as you came up behind Gale. She flung open the bedroom door, her gun steady in her hands as she held it out, moving and checking every potential place Ghostface could be hiding before passing it. You made sure to stay close, you had nothing to defend yourself with and you were sick of Ghostface catching you off guard.

“Hold please,” Gale said. You furrowed your brow and watched as she clicked a few buttons on the phone and redialed the number Ghostface had used to call her.

The two of you whipped around when ringing started coming from the closet you had just passed. Gale set the phone down, allowing the ringing to just continue as she gently nudged you back and stepped in front of you. She fired a couple rounds into the hall closet and the two of you heard a thud.

Gale inched forward, still making sure to keep the gun raised. Just because you both heard what sounded like a body falling to the ground didn’t mean Ghostface was actually down. Ghostface had faked being down plenty of times, he could have also stashed some random person in there to use them as bait. You didn’t think that last one was likely, but it definitely wasn’t insane to think about.

Ghostface launched out of the closet before Gale could react, knocking the gun out of her hand and shoving his knife into her shoulder. He pushed her back until she hit the stone column in her living room. He gripped her by the hair and began slamming her head against the stone. You didn’t think as you charged forward, tackling him off her like as if you were a football player.

The two of you rolled around on the floor, both of you fighting for control of the knife. Ghostface reached up and clawed at the stab wound on your shoulder. Pain seemed to radiate through your entire body, forcing you to instantly release Ghostface. Ghostface tackled you, your head smacking back against the hard floor. Ghostface seemed to like bashing someone’s head because he gripped you by the hair and slammed your head into the floor until you were seeing spots.

You were sure you had a concussion, again. When the image above you began to clear you were left frozen as Ghostface hovered above you, holding his knife high. You wanted to move, you kept telling your body to move, to roll out of the way, to fight back, to do something, but you just lay there. Ghostface brought his knife down but before it could get to you Gale tackled him off you, sending the two of them crashing into the glass coffee table.

You rolled onto your stomach; through blurry vision you could see Gale get up first. You couldn’t help but let out a relieved breath. She approached Ghostface, stepping on his wrist before yanking the knife out of his hand. She turned the knife in her hand before kneeling down next to Ghostface.

“Wait,” you gasped.

You reached out with your hand, as if you had any of hope of reaching Gale. Before Gale could bring the knife down, finally ending Ghostface, his hand shot up, impaling her in the side with a shard of glass. Gale collapsed, managing to drop the knife as both her hands went to her side. Ghostface rolled over as if none of what had happened had phased him.

“Don’t take it personally,” Ghostface said, taking the knife back. “A legacy character was never going to make it out of this.” He stood above Gale as she continued to gasp for breath.

You managed to use your forearms to push yourself up and began crawling towards them. You didn’t know what you were going to do, you stood no chance against Ghostface, you were probably only going to just get yourself killed quicker. Ghostface looked over at you, tilting his head before giving it a shake in disappointment.

“Look on the bright side,” Ghostface said. “At least you don’t have to see your child die.” He looked back at you as you continued to crawl towards them. “But they do get to see me gut you in their last moments,” he chuckled, his laugh sounding more sinister through the voice changer.

Ghostface brought up his knife, finally ready to end things once in for all. You heard someone shout, Ghostface looked up from Gale and dove away as whoever yelled came running into the room. The person grabbed the forgotten about gun on the floor and instantly began firing as Ghostface ran through the penthouse.

“Oh my god,” someone said, dropping down next to you.

You blinked several times and could finally make out Tara’s face in front of you. You let out a relieved breath that turned more into a sob. “I’m fine,” you tried, Gale was in worse shape than you, she should be the priority.

“Shut up,” Tara snapped, but she cradled your head as gently as possible and helped ease you back until you were laying on the ground again. “Just, stay awake,” she ran her hands through your hair.

Your eyes drifted past Tara to Gale. Sam was on her knees, trying to stop the bleeding. “G-Gale,” you rasped out. You even attempted to reach out with your hand again.

“Focus on me,” Tara guided your chin until you were staring up at her again. “Just focus on me.” You weren’t sure if it was your concussion or what, it was hard to tell, everything was still slightly fuzzy, but it looked like Tara had been crying.

You did as Tara asked, you stayed still and focused on only her. Even as the medics came in, you focused only on Tara. Even as you saw them loading Gale onto the backboard out of your peripheral you only focused on Tara. You never lost consciousness as the medics checked you out, you figured that was a good sign.

Taglist: @mamas-evil-hag @thatshyboy1998 @btay3115 @idontliketoread2137 @nwestra

@honorarysimp @canyonyodeler @chxrryxcx @aceofspades190 @worstendingever

@riyaexee @gayandfairycore

[streetlamp-amber]

bad time to be claustrophobic

bruce wayne x gn!reader

word count: 2k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!

CW: claustrophobia, panic attack NOTES: reader is gender neutral but it is mentioned they wear high heels

It had been two weeks since you started working for Wayne Enterprises and you were finally getting the hang of the job. At first, you felt like some sort of imposter, to be part of the famous company that overlooked the city and felt almost out of reach from every normal Gothamite. You had worked hard to get to where you were now and you deserved the stability this job brought to your life, as your roommate never failed to remind you every time you voiced out your doubts in the last weeks.

Your boss had needed you to bring some documents up to the top floor, where the CEO’s office was, and it was as you waited for an elevator to bring you down that you finally met Bruce Wayne. Of course you knew who he was – who lives in Gotham and doesn't know who Bruce Wayne is? – and you also knew of the playboy reputation he had that the gossip magazines could never get tired of. Although you had never really been interested in him before, one quick glance of the eye up and down his six feet two inches tall body was enough to determine that the media failed to describe how truly mesmerising Bruce Wayne was.

The two of you shared a brief eye contact when he came to a stop next to you in front of the elevator doors. He sent you a polite, tight lipped smile with a shy nod of his head as a form of greeting and you replicated his actions before turning your head forward again, hoping Mr. Wayne hadn’t noticed the beginning of a blush on your cheeks. You were no better than anyone after all, few could resist the natural charm that emanated from him.

The ding! of the elevator broke the silence floating in the air and Mr. Wayne, ever the gentleman, motioned with his right hand for you to step in first. He pressed the button for one of the basement floors as he entered before turning to you.

“Which floor?” He asked, and the sound of his voice caught you by surprise for a second.

“Oh! Um, sixteen,” you answered in what you hoped was a nonchalant way but was probably leaning more towards timid.

Mr. Wayne pressed on the button for your floor and the doors closed, the only noise that could be heard was the faint music of Mozart’s Horn Concerto no. 4 in E-Flat Major playing through the elevator speakers.

You watched with an anxious eye the floor numbers go down as you fiddled with the rings on your fingers, trying all your might to keep your hands down instead of divulging your embarrassing habit of biting off the skin around your nails to Bruce Wayne upon your first meeting. You hated elevators, or any kind of small closed space really, but your claustrophobia was just something you had learned (and still were learning) to live with. You usually avoided elevators, but Wayne Tower had more than thirty floors and you simply were not going to climb up all of those stairs in high heels for a bunch of documents. You could survive a minute long ride in an elevator, what’s the worst that could happen?

Well, the worst that could happen, happened.

The elevator was plunged into darkness as it shook to a stop, making you and Mr. Wayne almost lose your balance. It didn’t take more than five seconds for the lights to turn back on but the elevator wasn’t moving.

“No,” you whispered to yourself when you realised what was happening.

Mr. Wayne didn’t hear you, preoccupied with trying to get in contact with someone on his phone.

“Lucius, tell me what happened,” he spoke in an urgent tone, fearing that he was trapped in an elevator while Gotham needed his alter ego.

You were too busy trying to focus on keeping your breathing at a steady rhythm to listen to what the man on your left was saying. Everything suddenly felt hot and as you pulled on your white dress shirt in quick movements to air your torso, you started to feel like the walls were closing in on you.

“City workers were cutting a dead branch off a tree and it fell on the power lines,” Mr. Wayne explained as he closed his phone and put it back in the pocket of his suit, his eyes yet to see the state you were in. “Apparently there was some problem with the elevator when the generator turned on but a team is already wor–”

Bruce didn’t finish his sentence when he finally noticed that you weren’t listening to a single word he was saying. “Are you okay?” He asked, taking one small step closer to you.

“Yes,” you murmured, trying to sound as normal as possible. How embarrassing was it that the first time you meet the Bruce Wayne, you end up having a panic attack in front of him because of some ridiculous phobia that involves elevators.

“You’re not okay, you’re shaking,” he pointed out the obvious.

“‘S nothing,” you dismissed, clutching your shaking hands to your chest. You had your head hanging down and your eyes closed, unable to see the concerned look on Mr. Wayne’s face.

“Is there any way I can help?”

If your mind wasn't in such a frenzy, you would've heard the almost pleading tone in his voice.

“Not really,” you answered and your breathing quickened.

“Okay, okay,” he passed a hand through his hair as he tried to think about what to do. You were clearly in a state of panic and there was nothing he could do stuck in the elevator. He had to try to distract you while you waited for the team to fix the elevator.

You reached with your right hand to support yourself against the wall, the numbness in your legs making it hard for you to stand upright. Mr. Wayne was at your side in a second, holding your arms to keep you from falling.

“Let’s, let’s sit down, alright?” He suggested and you nodded your head.

He lowered the two of you to the floor and once you were sat up against the wall, he moved to sit in front of you, trying to catch your gaze.

“Hey, hey, there’s a team working on fixing the elevator as we speak, we’ll be out of here soon,” he tried to reassure you but you still wouldn’t meet his eyes. He observed the way your chest kept rising up and down rapidly and clocked that he needed to help you calm down.

“Okay, there’s this thing my… Alfred taught me when I was young. Just cross your arms over your chest and put your hands on your shoulders, can you do that?” He calmly asked you.

You nodded your head and did as he told you.

“Now I’m gonna put my hands on your knees, is that alright?”

You nodded your head once again and his large hands covered your bent knees over your charcoal dress pants.

“Alright, I’m gonna tap my hands to a rhythm, you’ll do the same with your shoulders and try to breathe along with the rhythm. Understood?”

Your distressed, teary eyes finally met his reassuring ones and in this moment, through all of the panic and the fear clouding your head, you were able to see that Bruce Wayne was a caring man under the playboy persona.

After you shook your head ‘yes’, Mr. Wayne started tapping his hands to a relaxed, steady rhythm like he told you he would. It took a minute for you to ground yourself in his eyes that never left yours and you followed his movements, tapping your hands on your shoulders to his tempo. He made a show of exaggerating the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, for you to eventually fall in step with.

“You know, when I was a kid, I was playing in the garden with my friend and I fell in an old well,” he started telling you when a few minutes passed and your breathing had calmed down a little. The both of you were still continuing tapping a steady rhythm on your knees and shoulders. “I was stuck down there with a broken arm and then a colony of bats flew out of the darkness. Been scared of those creatures ever since.”

“Is that why you’re not Batman’s biggest fan?” You asked in a small voice and Bruce faintly smiled both at the secret he was keeping from all of Gotham and because he was finally hearing your voice not in a panicked state. He always made sure to make his displeasure with the caped crusader known to deter the press from making a connection between the two.

“Amongst other reasons,” he answered, one corner of his lip curling up to show you his tiny crooked grin.

The two of you stared at each other and it surprised you how easy it was to feel safe and comfortable while looking in Bruce Wayne’s eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure to meet you before,” he spoke up after a short moment of comfortable silence.

“I assure you I would’ve made a better first impression in any other circumstance,” you quickly said, eyes going wide like saucers when it sunk in that you almost had a panic attack the first time you met Bruce Wayne.

“I can tell you, this isn't even in the top twenty of the worst first impressions I’ve had,” Mr. Wayne tried to reassure you with a joke. The shy smile on your lips indicated he succeeded. “I’m Bruce, by the way.”

“I know,” you said, a little more at ease. You told him your name, to which he couldn’t help but compliment.

“How long have you been working here? I don't remember ever seeing you, and I try to say hi to all my employees at least once a month,” he asked you.

“A little more than two weeks,” you answered. “I’m in the PR department, specifically overseeing the funding of your charities.”

“You have the most important job in the company then,” Bruce grinned.

“I wouldn’t know about that,” you rolled your eyes and this time there was no way he didn’t catch the beginning of the blush on your cheeks. You could only wish your face was still flushed from your almost panic attack so it wasn’t too noticeable.

The doors of the elevator were finally pulled open, Bruce and you turning your heads in that direction at the new noise. You sighed in relief that you could finally escape this cage of nightmare and both Mr. Wayne and the maintenance guy helped you slide out of the elevator, which only offered a thirty centimetres tall opening since it got stuck before it could reach the floor below.

Once Bruce had also gotten out, he ignored the assistant who had been assigned by her superior to catch him up on what he missed while being stuck in the elevator to instead talk to you.

“You know, if you want to take the rest of the day off, it’ll be no problem,” he told you, lowering his voice so only the two of you could hear. “I’ll vouch for you, make sure you don’t get in any trouble.”

“That’s very kind of you Mr. Wayne–”

“Bruce,” he interrupted you, though his tone was warm and friendly. “Please, call me Bruce.”

“Thank you, Bruce, I really appreciate the concern.” You were still a little unsettled by the events and when you usually would push through whatever sickness or weakness to make it to work, this time you didn’t fight off the chance to relax and recover.

“Gotta make sure my most important employee is well rested and of sound mind to do the job,” he smiled at you and you smiled back at him. “I have to go back to my duties, but I’ll be seeing you around.” Bruce said goodbye to you and you waved at him until his back was turned on you.

The first thing you did when you got back home to your apartment was search for a good pair of affordable running shoes to help you climb the stairs of Wayne Tower comfortably until you were ready to get in an elevator again.

And ever since that day, Bruce made sure that the elevators were inspected once every week.

[omuzgh]

suguru geto x reader drabble. this one’s for my ethnic girlies.

i like a man who’s strong.

i like a man with long thick hair.

you kiss your teeth in disapproval, quickly making your sentences face the dooming delete button. you need more depth, more detail, more deeper. you notes app is demanding more.

i like a man who’s intelligent.

i like a man who’s different.

i like…

you fingers freeze, no longer wanting to dance tango with your phone screen. you can only loudly sigh, as if your trying to push a weight off your shoulders onto the table, but it’s craws dig too deep into your back.

this is all too suffocating.

it all started when you were only in your preteens. you were really going through your awkward phase back then, you questioned how your mother even let you out like that in the first place.

thick metal glasses, the most nerdiest anime shirt you begged your brother to buy you, and that iconic short dora haircut, iconic you can say. but if there’s one thing you still shared in common with that little girl is the desire to be loved.

not by her mother and father, who in her eyes are fallen angels, but by someone else, someone new, something new.

when your learning environment soon turned into the preteen version of love island, you couldn’t help but watch afar from the distance. how much you’d kill to be like the other girls, their long blonde sun kissed hair and the brightest eyes you’ll ever see. you wanted nothing more but to be them.

the way the boys swooped to her feet without a second thought, as if she already had an army of men wrapped around her finger, all while you sat on the benches, begging to be picked.

even in your own little anti social friend group, when that sudden merge with the boy groups, everyone of your friends had a secret admirer or a crush to share. but you? not a second glance will ever be wasted on you.

it was obvious you didn’t look the same as your friends, but no one was afraid to silently let you know. all you could do in the end is stand at the edge of the group with your hands together and dream.

your teenage years were a bit more nicer, but the more you grew up the more love was shoved down your throat. it was annoying. sure, all the sudden you had the smallest increase of attention from men, but it’s all from those men who can’t keep their hands out their pants.

it only go worst seeing your friends in relationships, and more importantly, seeing your own siblings all the sudden find “the one” that your parents eagerly approve.

so when all your parents children pack away to start their new ideal life, naturally, their attention switched to you.

but they never pressed, they were too busy helping their other children that you thankfully left the picture, secretly opening a new door. maybe all the complements about your curls, your skin, and eyes got to you in a way you never thought would, because now your resume is decorated with all these lies about volunteering, some how landing you a job.

but this job wasn’t building a big mac or break your arm trying to scoop out ice cream for a kid; it was a night cafe. the kinds of cafes that only hires hot bitches to get more customers and open from 5pm till 2am selling some trendy overpriced bullshit.

you walk into your first shift, fully expecting for them to put you in the back or in the kitchen, but to your surprise they insist on you working in the front, serving all the customers. talk about awkward because half of the time it’s mostly men, men that want attention.

you came into this job expecting the worst, and that was truly delivered to you in a way you never imagined, in a way you always dreamed for. from banter, to straight up flirting and even harassment. your last straw? stalking.

i mean, thanks to this job you got more than enough numbers from a bunch of hotties, and your first relationship (we don’t talk about that), which you know for sure is your last. but even so, watching someone in a black hoodie every night follow you to your bus stop only escalated to a dragged out police report that was swept under the rug because you don’t fit their ideal stalking victim.

so when you came back to your boss that’s blaming you for everything, begging you not to go, you promised him one more week and you’re leaving. his eyebrows would push into each other, playing an intense game of tug of war, but his mouth didn’t dare to move, only sighing and agreeing to your sly request. it’s only for the best.

you only hoped that your last week isn’t your worst, until one man came to your shop that stood out from the rest of the men. every man that came here wore the same clothes, same hair same style same shit, but he was different.

his hair was long and his ears had those big earring that stretched of his ears. not something you have a personal knack for but who are you to judge? he was wearing a black leather jacket and a basic uniqlo tee under. his hair was thrown into a lazy bun that fell flawlessly on his carved out face. to everyone else? he was emo, to you? he was a breath of fresh air. the type of guy your friends will tease you if you admitted how attractive you think he is.

he only started coming on your last week but you tried to wiggle your way into making an impression. he’d order a normal cookie and soft serve on the side, and you’d write “nice fit! :)” on his drink. he really seemed to like it too. you watch him from the distance, sitting in your shops outside area with a smile on his face looking at the note. what a dork, it’s adorable.

sadly though, your final week ended and this emo boy was no were to be seen. you don’t want to go back, no way — you actually love yourself now — but you just want to see him, maybe get to talk to him. but before you can, your family snatched you hand and twirled you into 5 different dresses and 5 different weddings, all direct family.

the people you laughed and teased about how sad and cursed their future partner must be are now slow dancing to some corny foreign song about their partners eyes on their wedding night.

and what’s worse is the people they become after that wedding. it’s like their being put at gun point 24/7 to only revolve themselves around their husbands. women who’s education is worth more than moneys ever worth is carelessly thrown out the window; onto a house wife they be.

i mean, you’re only a teenager and have no say in their marriage and choices, sure, but you can’t help but feel an angle has lost it’s precious wings. a smart beautiful woman that could nurish into one of the most beautiful flowers in the garden stop growing at its early ages to match the other flowers.

you promise yourself not to be like that. even though your dms was still men who would the crack the moon for you and you only sometimes entertained was still present, you never isolated your stance on who or what women have built for so long.

alas when you finally graduate and block everyone the moment you sink into your couch, you parents come sneaking before you, stripping you of your iconic hat and gown of academics to show you a folder of your potential marriage suitors, who are all weirdly enough your cousins or distant family. you never entrained their ideas and suggestions, not weak enough to break your own mental promise.

finally after your battle of love and acceptance of being forever single, a familiar thick black haired man strutted into your uni class, fashionably late and quickly making his way to you.

he plops his stuff on the desk next to you, the vibrations shaking you to get your tired head off the table to see his wide grin pointed straight at you.

“hey! long time no see.”

you grin back, straightening up and quickly cleaning up you desk while he settles down, the teachers monotone voice fading into white noise.

“oh hey, never would of guessed you remembering me.”

he chuckled, slightly shaking his head and taking off his puffer jacket.

“how could i ever forget you?”

a/n: this is lowkey summarised most of my life… 😛 if anything doesn’t make sense or sounds weird keep in mind i wrote this at 4am and my only source of energy was a watermelon mocktail downed in energy drinks.

[kayentokk]

Hey :) How are you doing?

Okay so, i wanted to request a platonic father Aizawa in which he is out patroling and he finds his teen daughter doing something ilegal with her friends or something like that.

Please and thankss :)

A/N; I’m okay thanks for asking! Love this idea, I’ve gotten many requests somewhat related to this lately actually! I’ll be posting those throughout the week. Also sorry it’s taken me a while to get to this! 🥲 I truly believe Aizawa is a girl dad and a softie parent. 

Pairing; Platonic!Father Aizawa x Fem!Daughter Reader

Contains; a little ooc Aizawa, fluff, soft, drug mentions, reader is about 16-17 like mha characters, quirk-less reader, death mentions, bad friends, comfort

wc; 1,763

You weren’t supposed to get caught. In fact, you didn’t even think you would. It wasn’t a big deal anyways, you only did it because you thought it’d be a way to relax with your friends. Plus, if you guys did get caught your backup plan was your father. It wasn’t like he was going to detain you…right?

Wrong.

You were very wrong to believe that your father wouldn’t take you into custody over a little weed with your friends. You just wanted to have fun! Besides, you didn’t want to be the ‘perfect heroes daughter’ who’s a buzzkill. Why couldn’t he understand that? 

There was just so much pressure that came with being the child to a hero. Your friends already joked about how you were too ‘good’ to do anything remotely illegal. Which is part of the reason you were in this situation in the first place. 

Of course he just happened to be patrolling around the alley you and your friends decided to get a little high in. That was just your luck, he didn’t seem mad though. So you thought he’d just tell you guys not to do it anymore, and move on. Nope. Leave it to Aizawa to want to teach you a ‘lesson’ all of a sudden. He was normally just a “don’t do it again,” kind of parent. Mostly because you had never done anything of this caliber before.

“Did you really have to bring me in?”

Silence.

“I mean come on, none of the other heroes care. They’re too busy thinking about protecting the city, shouldn’t you be too? Nobody cares about a couple of kids getting a little buzzed, besides everyone does it nowadays-“

“That doesn’t make it okay y/n.”

You’ve rarely seen him like this, so tense. He didn’t look angry, but you couldn’t shake the feeling you got that he was. It was almost….scary. 

So you resigned to a simple, “Okay, I’m sorry.” Were you really sorry though? Not that much, you still didn’t see the big deal. 

He let out a low grunt, “This is serious y/n, I know you think I’m making a big deal out of nothing,” well he said it first, “but you could’ve been seriously hurt.”

“Hurt? From getting a little high?”

“Criminals lace that stuff all the time, whether it’s with poison, more drugs, or whatever else they decide-“

“Yeah sure, but we got it from a trusted source-“

“And who’s that?” He said crossing his arms. 

Oops.

You decided it’d be best not to respond right now. Especially since the source wasn’t technically trusted, just another kid who got it from someone else. Who probably got it from someone else too.

Sensing your apprehension he decide to drop it, “we’ll revisit that later,” he said waving a dismissive hand. “I’ll drop you off at home, you’re grounded.” 

You internally groaned at that, grounded? That’s a new one, you were starting to really regret your decision. You should have just told your friends no, even if it meant being the ‘buzzkill.’ Then you remembered, your friends-

“What about my friends?”

“We’re working on calling their parents to come pick them up soon.”

“No!-“ you said sharply, “I-I mean, can’t you just let them off? Or something?”

“You know that’s not how this works, they are already getting off with a minor offense. The worst they’re going to get is their parents’ scolding.”

“Dad! You don’t understand-“

“I understand perfectly fine, a bunch of young kids wanted to ‘have fun’ and thought this was the best way to do it.”

Okay maybe he did understand, but not your side. He didn’t get that now you’d officially be the outcast, the top 10 ranked hero’s daughter who gets everyone in trouble. Does he get how embarrassing that is? 

“Come on, let’s get going.”

You stood from the chair leaving the comfort of being shielded, by the small desk separator, from your friends’ piercing gazes. They thought your dad would let you all off too considering the chaos the city’s currently in. 

You nervously waved and mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ to them before rushing out the door trying to follow closely behind Aizawa. 

You guys didn’t speak the whole way home, you opted for silence mostly because it wasn’t that big of a deal and he just didn’t know what to say. You had never done anything like that before, or had he just never caught you? When did that start?

He remembered when you were little and you’d give your vegetables to stray animals so you didn’t have to eat them, or when you tried to sneak out at night and he caught you. But those were all pretty minor things, and he was only always concerned with your safety.

You’d never done anything this bad, and in terms of the worst thing you could do of course this wasn’t horrible but he still didn’t get why. It couldn’t have just been for fun.

He entered the house after unlocking the door and opening it for you. Before you could make it to your room, where you’d probably go to sulk, he decided he’d ask.

“Why did you want to do that y/n?”

You stopped and turned around to face him. He was standing in front of the door, and now that you actually took in his appearance he looked tired. His dark circles more prominent, eyes a light pink most likely from his quirk, and his black pants had small patches of dust that had been hastily patted off on them. 

You replied after a moment, briefly forgetting his question, “For fu-“

“And don’t just say for fun, because I know you and there are plenty of other things you would do for fun.”

You huffed resigning to just come out with it, “it was a bet.”

“A bet?”

“My friends bet me that I wouldn’t get high with them since I’m a hero’s daughter.”

“And you decided to take them up on that?”

“Yes, I know it was stupid okay?”

“I know you know, you’re smarter than that. So why’d you say yes?”

Why’d he have to be so persistent? “Maybe because I thought I’d finally get some friends.”

“What do you mean y/n? You do have friends.”

“No, I don’t. Momo, Tsu, and Uraraka only hang out with me out of pity, since you’re their teacher, if they even have time-“

“Pity? Y/n no they don’t, there’s nothing pitiful about you at all-“

You scoffed, “don’t lie. I get you’re my dad and all but be honest with yourself, truly honest.”

“I am being honest. I’d never lie-“

Guess you’d just have to spell it out for him then. “The only daughter you had killed your wife, was born quirk-less, and there’s nothing special about her!” You were shocked at the admission of your own feelings but kept going, “I don’t have a talent, I’m not exceptionally smart, I’m not breathtakingly pretty, and I can’t even make friends!” You listed raising a finger for each reason, “Now tell me what about that is not pitiful?”

After that question there was silence, and Aizawa was just looking at you. You hadn’t even noticed you were crying until the first tear slid down your nose crease and hit the corner of your lip. Before touching could even wipe your tear or register the sound of footsteps approaching you, you were being hugged. Fully covered by his arms, your head grazing the bottom of his chin where stubble had began to grow, face buried partially into his scarf. 

You heard high pitched wailing, which you hadn’t even registered was you until his hand began to rub up and down your back with quiet ‘shh’s to try calming you.  

“Don’t cry, it’s okay. It’s not your fault, none of it okay?” He began whispering in your ear.

“Your mom and I both knew the challenges she’d have if she gave birth to you. We were well aware, and she wanted to have you. She didn’t care if she’d die in the process, you are our child.”

He continued comforting you, and when you eventually calmed down he let go and gently pulled your face out of his chest so you could look him in his tired, red eyes. “I love you so much, and I’m sorry if I don’t tell you that enough okay? It’s my fault I’m sorry. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and you’re perfect. I mean that, I’d never lie. You don’t need a quirk, to be super smart, or have a special talent. You’re perfect to me, okay? And that’s all that matters. You’re important to me,” he said firmly. 

“Okay?”

You sniffled, reaching a hand to wipe your nose, “okay.”

“Hey,” he said turning your face back to his, “I really mean it, I’d be no where without you. And how could you say you’re not beautiful? I know I’m not the best looking hero, but haven’t you seen the pictures of your mom? You take after her, gorgeous. Nothing I’d ever change about you, I don’t regret anything.”

“Okay,” you said slightly unused to him saying these things, “I’ve never heard you say something so corny dad,” you said chuckling trying to lighten the mood. 

At that, he gave a small grin which faded when he remembered your earlier point, “And Ochaco, Tsuyu, and Yaoyorozu do like being your friend. Not just because I’m their teacher, trust me I’m more of a supervisor if anything. I let them figure most stuff out on their own. They wanted to meet and hang out with you. I don’t think you give yourself enough credit, you make friends just fine.” 

“I know, I know, it was just heat of the moment stuff dad.”

He let out a sigh of relief, hugged you once more, and pressed a kiss to the top of your forehead.

“I still have about another hour of night patrol, but I’ll stay here if you want me to?”

“No dad, it’s fine go.”

He looked at you once more as if saying, ‘are you sure?’ 

“Yes I’m sure I’m fine, it’s only an hour anyways.”

“Okay, call me if you need anything, I’ll be back soon,” he said headed towards the door.

“Okay,” you said starting to walk to your room. 

But just before he shut the door you dashed for it and started, “Hey! does this mean-“

“No you’re still grounded,” he said. 

And with that the door shut.

@/cafekitsune for the divider!

[smuttysabina]

"I am" a Bitch

(Rei x Male Reader, 3.3k Words) Tags: Pretty Little Risky Baddie, What A Brat, Wow She Is So Spoiled, I Sure Hope She Doesn't Get Her Butt Stretched Out, Anal Sex, Brat Taming, Lots Of Complaining, Rough Sex, Too Much Teasing, Chaebol Obliteration

Rei is a spoiled brat. Like most of IVE, she had been pampered until her pretentiousness had swollen to absurd heights; her every whim was to be fulfilled without worry of the consequences. She fully expected that her demands would be followed, especially those pertaining to the bedroom. Though Rei was not the worst of the bunch, her sexual appetites were still incredibly skewed in her favor; the pleasure of her partner was very much so beneath her notice. So she was rather unforgiving when her "lover" failed to satisfy her obnoxious orders, but not in an enjoyable way. Perhaps you should have known better, but truly, who could blame you for dumping the fattest load of your life balls-deep inside of Rae's precious asshole?

You had mostly known what you were getting into when you applied to work for IVE, every Kpop group had its own distinct quirks regarding the hired help. Itzy were renowned for their rapacity when dealing with the "interns", and their older sisters of Twice were famous for their fetishistic forced-breeding schedules. Le Sserafim were a popular choice, mostly due to their extremely laid-back and open attitude towards sex. Positions at Blackpink were the most sought after of course, though they remained permanently open, their turnover rate was less than a week. And IVE... well IVE were notorious for treating their employees like utter garbage. Which was hardly unusual if truth be told, except for the fact that this mindset extended to include most of the staff, not just the sex pets. It was by unwritten agreement amongst idols that the more integral staff members were to be left unravished; after all, it is difficult for a music company to function when their song writers are too busy pumping the idols full of cum all day to write anything. Most importantly however, the cleaning staff were to be left entirely unmolested; if not for those brave souls, the number of injuries caused by slipping in puddles of sex-fluids would skyrocket. Even that insatiable goddess Jennie, who would fuck almost anything with a pulse, would greet the janitors with a bemused smile before continuing to drain whatever meat-dildo she was currently sending to heaven.

Unfortunately, IVE had no such distinctions; if Gaeul wanted to have the producers lick her pussy all day, then that's what they did. It was a dark miracle that the group managed to continue putting out comebacks, let alone the sort that would be astoundingly popular. So to say that the atmosphere at the IVE mansion was a bit stressful would be an understatement. But all of that negativity was on the back of your mind when you showed up for orientation at the mansion; your adoration for IVE drowning out any concerns you may have felt reading up about them. Led through a tastelessly expensive entry hall, you and many other new hires were ushered into a drab side-room for your training. After only a perfunctory introduction though, you were seamlessly sorted into being an assistant for one of the girls; and sent on your way. You are directed to a large, stately bedroom, its footprint greater than most people's entire homes, its door embossed with its owner's name. The debris of an artist occupies an entire corner of the vast room, painting materials stashed haphazardly alongside expensive electronic drawing devices. The bathroom fills the rest of that half of the room, an opaque wall covering what looks to be a standing shower as well as a sizable hot tub. The sleeping area is conjoined with the living area, cluttered with clothes, books, and entertainment devices; with an enormous television planted in front of a deep couch. The bed is sturdy, dowered with an expensive mattress and covered with an eclectic collection of blankets; and laying upon it is the owner of this gilded cage: Rei.

The idol rests upon her stomach, delicate feet kicking in the air above her head, perusing her phone with every appearance of absolute boredom. She gives you unhappy glare as you approach, her heavily-lidded eyes showing you nothing but contempt as she takes in the details. Rei lets out a petulant sigh, "So you're my new assistant huh, why do I never get the cute ones? Whatever, drop your pants, let's see what we're working with here." You hesitate at this bizarre and sudden demand, only complying after she irritable motions for you to proceed, "Hmmph, I guess you'll do, at least you don't have a needle dick. Please tell me you aren't one of those premature guys, I swear most boys have zero endurance. What? Put that thing away, I'm tired of looking at it already!" Blushing furiously from Rei's barbs, you haul your pants back up and wait for further instructions. After several minutes of pointedly ignoring you, she finally deigns to glance back up in exasperation, "Well don't just stand there idiot, do something useful like... cleaning or something? This place is a mess!" Which, to be fair, it absolutely was. Clothes were strewn about haphazardly, towers of empty food cartons were everywhere, all manner of trash was scattered about, and sticky stains on the carpet were more common than clean portions.

So you get to work, while Rei lounges about on her bed, yelling dubious advice and shrill instructions at you while you labor. Her phone either blares annoying videos, except when she is video-chatting with her fellow idols; in which case she yammers away just as loudly as the bitches getting railed in the call. And of course, she masturbates constantly, her fingers squelching away beneath her sweatpants as she watches her friends engaging in all sorts of sexual activities. That or porn; and if you are honest with yourself it's difficult to tell the difference between the two. Not that Rei takes kindly to be watched during her "Private Time", nor the fact that the sight and scent of her pleasuring herself has an arousing effect on your own genitals, "You fucking pervert, stop watching me! Ugh what kind of assistant are you? And are you getting hard again? Stop that! I didn't say you could get horny, so stop looking and keep cleaning!" An attitude which was annoying in the extreme, especially since it was a touch difficult to bend over with a hardon bulging out of your pants. Your irritation only grows as Rei continues to rain abuse on you for doing what you're told, particularly when she went into hysterics when you got around to picking up and sorting the massive pile of underwear heaped against a dresser. You are starting to see why IVE had be having trouble retaining their staff...

After several grueling hours of labor, you finally finished restoring order to at least one portion of Rei's expansive living area; and so lay down to take a break on a couch. Not five minutes had passed before you were being poked awake by Rei, scowling down at you with her hands on her hips. Who haughtily announces that she was going to take a bath, and that she required assistance; now. You groan before hauling yourself after the idol to the bathroom section, where you are stunned to find her stripping carelessly in front of you. You stare at Rei in shock, your foul mood entirely dispelled by the magnificent sight before your eyes; she merely sniffs as you gaze at her. Her surprisingly moderate bust perks boldly outward, the soft curve of her hips descending towards a deliciously full ass, her lithe legs supported by her delicate feet. Now this made her earlier abuse almost worthwhile, surely such a goddess could be allowed a few flaws? Surely it was her due to be given such slavish attention, surely you had deserved such ill-treatment for not paying proper homage to Rei? The illusion of divinity is shattered however, when Rei responds to your adoration with scorn, "Ew, could you not look at me like that, it's weird. Also, get naked already, didn't I tell you to listen you moron?"

So you gingerly remove your clothes, wincing as you strain your sore muscles, and by the time you are finished Rei is already standing in the luxurious hot tub. With her hands on her hips, she gives you an exasperated look, and you scramble up into the bath to avoid another irritating tongue-lashing. You sit down with a sigh, decompressing in the soothing warm waters, water-jets massaging your aching back in a most pleasant fashion. Your momentary calm is cracked somewhat when Rei proceeds to plop down into your lap, her ample bottom squishing up against your groin as she reclines against you. You are rendered speechless by her sudden intimacy, and surprisingly, she is just as quiet. Rei seems content to use you as furniture as she relaxes, and in this moment of tranquility you take in your surroundings in more detail. A sprawling plethora of bottles precariously perch on the further edge of the hot tub, while the rim to your right is taken up entirely with sexual accessories. The bathroom area itself was relatively clean, but clutter was gradually overrunning every available surface; most noticeable was the trash can overflowing with condom wrappers, Rei was obviously a healthy girl...

Rei starts slightly as you harden, but otherwise seems content to ignore the fact that your cock is currently digging into her butt. She wriggles a little to reposition, then relaxes once more, until eventually she sighs and stands up out of the water. She glances back at you, "Your size?" Rei asks as she reaches towards the boxes of condoms. Nodding at your answer, she pulls out a string of them and tosses them at you before ordering you to close your eyes as she fiddles with some sort of tube. You hear Rei let out a soft curse, "Ugh, it's so cold..." then water churns and she grumbles at you, "Well, put it on already!" You open your eyes to find her scowling down at you, and you hurriedly hoist our crotch out of the water so you can slip a condom onto it. You reach towards Rei, only for her to slap your hands away, "Hey! No, sit back down! And don't you dare move, I hate it when guys act like they're not just dildos." With that out of the way, and giving you one final glare in warning, she turns around and lowers herself once more onto your crotch. But this time the burning heat of the water is replaced by the much more subdued warmth of Rei's insides, as she slowly slides your length into herself. Her plump ass squirms as she settles into her new perch, and she is soon gently rocking back and forth in your lap while her hands are busy between her thighs. Her pink hair tickles your face as she grinds on your bulging cock, teasing it endlessly as she pleasures herself. Rei's entire weight is pressed onto your cock as she lifts her legs, the roiling water supporting her as she precisely orients her body to force you as deep as possible. Then Rei lets out a sudden squeak, and she quivers against you, her hole clenching tight around your now painfully erect member.

Rei shudders, her asshole palpitating as she relaxes back against your chest, breathing heavily as she eases her weight off of your manhood. After resting against you for about a minute or so, oblivious to your cock as it throbs inside of her, she pushes herself up off of you in a cascade of water. You get a faceful of ass, and as she bends forward her slightly gaping brown anus is revealed, glistening wetly and flushed from use. Rei notices you staring and quickly turns around, covering herself as she does, "What, it's not like I would let you fuck my unused pussy, I'm saving it for my beloved!" You highly doubt that Rei's cunt had gone unstretched during her stint as a trainee, but you are far more focused on the fact that you had not been able to finish. The bratty idol gives you a confused look as she notices your demeanor, "Oh, did you not cum...? Feel free to jack off into the condom or something, just don't make a mess!" Humming cheerfully, she clambers out of the hot tub and is soon ensconced in an oversized fluffy towel; whereupon she putters off towards the living area, dripping water everywhere. Grumbling, and still staggeringly erect, you dry yourself off before following her, finding Rei sprawled on her couch flicking through channels. Not even deigning to glance at you, she reminds you to clean up all the water you got on the floor walking over there. Rolling your eyes you obey, though not without complaining under your breath, by the time you finished up and returned to your spoiled mistress she has already switched to watching porn. Loud moans and squeals blare from the enormous television as some woman is getting absolutely railed on screen. Rei is already masturbating shamelessly upon her discarded towel, her dark nipples starkly erect.

The idol glances over as you approach and nods in satisfaction as she notices that your dick is still hard, she scrambles around so that her plump posterior is pointed right at you, "Grab a condom, but follow my orders exactly, okay? My butt is very delicate." Sheathed once more in latex supplied from an ever-present condom box, you gently grasp her hips, "Okay, so put a lot of lube in, gently, then slowly ease your dick in, got it?" Instructions which you ignore entirely, as you simply shove your cock directly into Rei's vulnerable asshole. Whose back arches up as she shrieks in surprise, wailing as if she had just been poleaxed. The bitch was obviously exaggerating however, your dick had slid smoothly inside of her, only catching a little at the entrance, evidently Rei had squirted so much lube inside of herself earlier that she still had loads of it coating her insides. Not that she sees it that way, "YOU DUMB FUCK! TAKE IT OUT TAKE IT OUT!" she howls, clawing at the couch for support as her legs shudder. But you are done taking orders from this entitled brat, and pull back, dragging a solid inch of her insides along with you, Rei barely has time to gasp out "Oh thank-" before you slam your entire length back into her guts. This time she is only able to let out an outraged gasp, unable to comprehend how a lowly fan like you could possibly disobey a chaebol of IVE.

Of course, most other idols would not have stood for such treatment either, Yeji would have been clawing your back into bloody ribbons, Rose would have been beating you mercilessly, Jihyo would have pinned you down and firmly forced you inside the proper hole, Dami would have had you biting the couch as she pummeled you with a gargantuan strapon. Instead, Rei, scion of a renowned idol training program, promptly bursts into noisy tears. Normally a girl sobbing would have given you pause, and caused you to rush to give her comfort, but this bitch had been abusing you for hours now, and it seemed a bit of an overreaction; so you continue. Rei blubbers as loudly as the girl on screen, bemoaning her fate and tepidly demanding that you listen to her. But by now you were getting into the swing of things, and to be completely honest her asshole was practically sucking you inside after every thrust. Her thick ass-cheeks clap loudly as you slam yourself against them again and again, providing a meaty cushion that was almost begging for a thoroughly rough plowing. So you give it to them, violently pistoning your cock into her guts, causing her to squeak plaintively and writhe in your grasp as you firmly hold her steady. Then Rei starts to shake, her ass shivering in a familiar way, you don't stop moving though, even when she suddenly starts to scream shrilly, spittle flying onto the couch.

Something hot and wet slops onto your balls, sticking tight to it and smearing deep into its folds. Surprised, you pull out, leaving Rei's asshole gaping enough to show pink and sputtering foully, and beneath that, a shaven pussy absolutely slathered with cunt cream, connected her sex to yours with glistening streamers. She whines in embarrassment, looking back at you in disbelief at the mess she had made, her squeezable cheeks flushing bright red. Before Rei could make any excuses however you had crammed your cock back into her sloppy ass, causing her to groan and bite the fabric. A glow with satisfaction with yourself, you fall back into your rough rhythm, plowing away with enough force to make her ass-cheeks jiggle with every thrust. The steady slap of skin fills the room as you relentlessly fuck Rei, drowning out the depravities taking place on the TV, (by this point the woman appeared to be taking four cocks at once). But Rei wasn't an idol for nothing, and even after such ungentle treatment her butt still devoured your manhood voraciously; squeezing it tightly without any sign of tiring. Your tip grows warmer as you continue to pound away at her hole, it even starts to feel a bit wet within the rubber. The added stimulation is enough to make your heartily sore balls finally start to pulse, and you feel pleasure emanating from the base of your cock, urging you to go deeper. Groaning loudly, you haul Rei back as hard as you can, squishing against her butt with all your might as you climax spectacularly, filling your condom with thick reams of semen. Rei moans in sympathy, but a note of confusion turns her sweet tones shrill, "Oh fuck yes- WAIT. Wait you idiot you're fucking cumming in me! Oh fuck there's so much! Pull out fuckwit, pull out!" Startled by the sudden vehemence in her voice, you abruptly pull out of her, her unplugged asshole sloppily burping your seed out into the creamy filth already coating her sex. Now that it is exposed, you are able to clearly see the issue, your sex had been so violent it had torn the condom open, allowing your cum to surge into Rei's unprotected asshole; who is not taking it well.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck! It's so slimy and gross! I fucking hate cum! How fucking dare you cum in me! Ugh I feel like I'm going to puke!" she staggers upright, scowling furiously at you as she stumbles towards the bathroom. She points angrily at her door, "Out! Get the fuck out!" she screams, pulling herself onto the toilet and squatting upon it like a gargoyle. You quickly dress under her glare, as she starts to shit the vast amount of semen you had pumped into her. Once out the door, you report to the staff member, who seems unsurprised to discover that she had kicked you out of her room. They instruct you to return tomorrow, apparently the assistants were quietly cycled between the girls until they caught on and demanded their removal permanently. You are utterly shocked the next day then when you are once more ordered to wait upon Rei. Led to her familiar door, you find the brat hunched in front of a tablet, morosely jotting upon it with a stylus. She grunts as she sees you, frowning unhappily, rolling the stylus nimbly through her fingers as she ponders something deeply. Finally though she sighs, and demands that you strip once more. You nervously comply, worried about what sort of depraved revenge Rei has in store for you. But instead she simply stalks over to her bed, casting off her clothes as she goes, whereupon she bends over, looking back at you with annoyed trepidation.

"Well, what are you waiting for, idiot? You had better not break your condom this time! Oh and- um," Rei blushes in embarrassment, seemingly mortified that she has to say this, "please be rough again..."

[ohnoitstbskyen]

I know you made shorts for Sora, Riku, and Kairi, but do you have any other thoughts about Kingdom Hearts?

Ik this is kinda vauge and you get these kind of asks all the goddamn time, but I hyperfixated on those games for most of elementary and middle school and its always cool to see your favorite Youtuber talk about stuff you really like. Not to guilt trip you into answering this one or anything, just. . . I'm very tired and it would be very cool lol.

Again, saving my character design thoughts for some more shorts, but I adore Kingdom Hearts. Like, the first game really ISN'T much more than a cross-promotional branding exercise for Disney and Square, same as any of a dozen other similar crossover centric franchises; it's a Saturday morning cartoon show that wants to get you invested (or keep you invested) in a bunch of fancy IPs to buy toys of, but it's a really good one of those.

And it's a game that understands that the central thing that's going to hook people IN to that kind of thing is characters that are willing to believe in what they've got going on with one thousand percent sincerity. Which I think is the thing they nailed more than anything. Sora cares SO MUCH, and he wants to find his friend and his love interest (Kairi and Riku, respectively) SO BADLY, you can't help but root for the poor kid and want to believe in it.

Then, with the first game successfully managing to hook a solid fanbase, the creative team went "hey what if we had even MORE extremely earnest cool anime people getting deep in their feelings?" and now we're off to the races with Organizations and Oblivion Castles and fractions of 358 days.

And the thing that makes all the hyper-convoluted wheels-within-wheels plot machination nonsense WORK is that down, deep down, right at the core of what the franchise is always trying to say, is that love will save us. Yeah yeah hearts and darkness and unversed and nobodies and keyblades and blah blah blah (to be clear: I adore all that nonsense), but all of it is top-to-bottom in service of that singular central thematic clarion call.

Love will save us.

What holds Ventus together after Xehanort tears his heart apart? The love of Sora. What keeps Roxas the nobody from fading into Sora? The love of Xion and Axel, and Hayner, Pence and Olette. What brings Xion back? The love of Axel and Roxas. Hearts ring together and resonate and bind themselves to each other and there is no darkness so deep, no tragedy so absolute, no villain so foul that the cry of a loving heart cannot defeat it.

Roxas is a nobody doomed to darkness? Fuck you, Kingdom Hearts is love, no he isn't. Xion is a mere replica puppet, a failed experiment that nobody will remember? >>EXTREMELY LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER<< get seasalt icecream'd on top of a clock tower at sunset, IDIOT.

Over and over again characters sink into despair and loneliness, they fear that their connections are fake or fading, they fear being forgotten or left behind (Riku in the first game, the breaking of Ventus, Aqua and Terra, Roxas thinking nobody would miss him, Aqua in the Realm of Darkness), and over and over again they are proven beautifully wrong. There is always a hand reaching out, there is always someone who will miss you. Love will save us.

And this absolutely gets hokey, of course it does, it's a saturday morning children's cartoon. It's a bit simplistic, maybe a bit naïve, but honestly in a world where you can't walk two steps without bleak-minded doomer cynicism forcing the assumption that nothing truly good is possible and that the worst will always happen, Kingdom Hearts is a story so absolutely drenched in hope, sincerely held, that it feels like a fucking balm.

Also, LITERALLY where the fuck else are you going to get Woody from Toy Story reading an edgy anime villain for absolute filth? Nowhere, that's where. ONLY Kingdom Hearts.

None of this is to suggest I don't have criticisms of the franchise or that it's faultless. I could talk for several hours unbroken about all my gripes and problems, chief among which is LET KAIRI DO THINGS OH MY FUCKING GOD the franchise is low key misogynistic towards its female characters sometimes but I am talking about the things I love here let me just be happy for a second.

[oepionie]

—"POETIC RIZZ" various

SYNOPSIS: Horrible 3AM post—Just a bunch of random quotes/lines from various shows & books that i mixed together (Also diasomnia has the best rizz ngl)

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT RIDDLE ONCE SAID

"In vain, I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. One word from you will silence me on this subject forever. And so I beg you, most fervently, to relieve my suffering and consent to be my lover."

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT DEUCE ONCE SAID

“This feeling has possessed me, I think and...I wanted to tell you that wherever you may end up in this world, I will be searching for you. I'm not afraid of anything now. I finally understand. I'm in love. We're in love. That means we'll meet again. I'm sure of it. ”

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT LEONA ONCE SAID

"I had not intended to love but now, I have for the first time found what I can truly love—I have found you. And I will love you until I die, and if there is life after that, I'll love you then. You're more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, yours and mine are the same."

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT RUGGIE ONCE SAID

“I love you but I know it's not gonna be easy. It's going to be really hard; I'm gonna have to work at this everyday, but I want to do that because I want you; forever and everyday.—I am who I am because of you. You are every reason, every hope, and every dream I've ever had, and no matter what happens to us in the future, everyday we are together is the greatest day of my life."

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT AZUL ONCE SAID

"I desire more…than what's within my reach. Who blames me? Many call me discontented. I couldn't help it: the greed is in my nature. Please just bear with me. You pierce through my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it."

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT JADE ONCE SAID

"I miss you deeply, unfathomably, senselessly, terribly.I long for you; I who usually longs without longing, as though I am unconscious and absorbed in neutrality and apathy, really, utterly long for every bit of you. Moreover, you are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love."

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT FLOYD ONCE SAID

"I heard what you said. I’m not the sappy romantic you think. I don’t want the heavens or the shooting stars. I don’t want seaglass or shiny pearls. I have all those things already. I want…you. A steady hand. A kind soul. I want to fall asleep, and wake, knowing my heart is safe. I want to love you, and be loved by you."

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT IDIA ONCE SAID

"My Persephone, I would have chosen you a thousand times over, the Fates be damned. Even if they unraveled our destiny, I would find a way back to you. All my heart is yours: it belongs to you; and with you it would remain, were fate to exile the rest of me from your presence forever."

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT VIL ONCE SAID

"Darling you are mistaken, and you know nothing about me, and nothing about the sort of love of which I am capable. Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own. Now, tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you, anyway. Yes, you make mistakes, are out of control and at times hard to handle. But if I can't handle you at your worst, then I surely don't deserve you at your best."

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT ROOK ONCE SAID

"In beauty of face and soul, no maiden ever equaled you. If I were to be blinded the moment I laid eyes upon your incandescent form, I would not grieve, for in that very instance I have truly gazed upon everlasting beauty."

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT LILIA ONCE SAID

"Be with me always—take any form—drive me mad. But I beg of you do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you. Oh, God..It is unutterable. I can not live without you in my life. I can not live without my soul. It is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone."

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT MALLEUS ONCE SAID

“I have little left in myself—I must have you. The world may laugh—may call me absurd, selfish—but it does not signify. My very soul demands you: it will be satisfied, or it will take deadly vengeance on its frame.”

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT SEBEK ONCE SAID

"I am a gentleman. I have been raised to act with honor, but that honor is hanging by a thread that grows more precarious with every moment I spend in your presence. You are the bane of my existence, and the object of all my desires."

WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT SILVER ONCE SAID

"I have a strange feeling with regard to you. On some days—I have dreamed and wished I was one of your tears. To be born in your eyes, roll down your cheeks, and to die on your lips."

[watchmegetobsessed]

NO MORE GAMES

A/N: so this concept might be familiar for some of you bc i posted about it earlier before i started working on it but now its officially here! and this is my thank you gift for all of you for reaching 15k followers!!! it's insane, thank you so much and hope to bring you even more stories soon!!!

WORD COUNT: 7.9k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: Your friend forces you to give Tinder a try. Surprisingly you fetch a date with the handsome and a little bit older Harry. But he stands you up and you lose hope in dating. However it's a real plot twist when you run into him at your dad's barbeque and he is introduced to you as the future CEO of your father's company.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

“This has got to be the lowest point of desperation.”

“Don’t be so dramatic!”

“I’m not, this is truly the end.”

Dani rolls her eyes and just keeps tapping away on your phone’s screen, setting up your Tinder profile.

You. On Tinder. The app you swore you’d never use. How did this happen?

Well, it happened because your boyfriend of two years decided to dump you in a McDonald’s parking lot, only to post about his engagement to another woman on Facebook three weeks later. 

Disgusting pig, you’re convinced you were blind and deaf in those two years, that’s how you could put up with him for so long.

You’ve been wallowing in your self-pity for the past three months and Dani, your best friend had enough and said that you need to get on a dating app, hook up with some fine ass men and forget about Cruz.

“Alright, it’s all set, want to have a look?” Dani smirks, obviously pleased with herself as she hands you over the phone.

It’s a decent profile, she chose some good pictures of you, your profile was never your concern, it’s others on the app that makes you crawl out of your skin.

“Perfect,” you flash her a forced smile, she grabs the phone and then starts swiping vigorously. “Hey! Don’t swipe right on everyone!”

“Not everyone! Just the hot guys!”

“You’re not even reading their bio!”

“Because I don’t care, we’re looking for a hookup, not your husband here, duh!”

You sit, feeling helpless as you watch your best friend decide who is worthy of you in the virtual meat market. This is really not your scene and you’re more than skeptical anything good will turn out from it.

Dani keeps swiping for a while before you finally talk her out of it and you settle watching a movie instead, forgetting about the profile that is now available for every single man in your area. 

To be honest, it completely slips your mind until you’re getting ready for bed and unlock your phone to set an alarm and see all the notifications from Tinder.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, falling into bed as you unwillingly, but tap on one of the notifications and the app opens.

It’s been only a few hours, but you got twenty-seven matches and five out of those even messaged you. You instantly skip the first three because one straight up asks for nudes, one just sends you a bunch of emojis and the third one sent the worst pick up line you’ve ever heard. 

The fourth one is okay, but it’s kind of… well, it’s a simple “Hi, how are you?” and you’re not sure how to reply to that, so then only one’s left.

Harry.

The age next to his name reads 36, that’s not that big of an age gap, only eight years, you’ve seen worse. Besides, he looks younger, almost your age according to the pictures. He has a couple, but not too many. He’s smiling on his profile picture, the t-shirt displays his many tattoos on one of his arms, his hair is slightly curly and mostly a mess, but it’s the good kind.

He is definitely your type. 

He opened with referring to something that’s written in your bio which feels nice, knowing that he actually read it instead of just swiping right based on your pictures. Your thumbs hover over the screen for a bit before you finally give in and type him an answer.

He replies right away. And so the conversation starts.

One message follows the other, you’re jumping from one topic to the next and at one point it feels like you’re talking to an old friend and not a guy you’ve never actually met. The next thing you realize that it’s three am and you’re still talking. 

Y/N: We’ve been talking for hours and you still haven’t asked for my number, should I take it as a bad sign?

HARRY: Didn’t want to seem too pushy, but I wanted to ask for it the moment I saw your profile. 

You smile like a little girl as you type your answer.

Y/N: That would have been too soon, you’re right. But now would be a good time.

HARRY: Hey, crazy idea! Can I maybe have your number?

You laugh. You genuinely laugh at the screen and that probably never happened before.

You give him your number. 

You didn’t think it would go this far, this whole Tinder ordeal Dani forced you into. You were kind of set that it won’t work so why should you even try? 

Now it’s a surprising outcome that you’re on your way to meet Harry at a bar, only three days after texting nonstop. And you’re kinda nervous about it.

You haven’t been on a first date in a long time and it’s giving you the jitters as you get ready. Your experience getting to know Harry in the past few days has been incredibly positive, you wonder if it will be the same when you physically meet.

You arrive at the bar a little early and take a seat at the table he reserved on his name. To ease your nerves you order a vodka soda that you drink quickly, the alcohol mixing in your veins pretty fast, but you’re still nervous to meet him in real life. 

As you wait, a guy comes up to you who seems to be more interested in your cleavage than you while he tries to chat you up, but you quickly reject him, your gaze keeps returning to the entrance, expecting Harry to walk in at any moment.

Minutes pass by and then seven o’clock rolls around, the time when you were supposed to meet, but you see no sign of him, which makes your stomach twist and turn. You double check the time, the date and the place to make sure you’re where you need to be.

“You seem awfully lonely,” a voice speaks up behind you and for a split second you think that it’s Harry, you just missed when he walked in, but when you turn around you see a totally different man, holding two drinks in his hands, clearly offering one to you. You make no effort to accept it.

“I’m not,” is all you say, turning your eyes back ahead. He doesn’t get the hint.

“If you’re waiting for someone I’m happy to be your company until they arrive.” He rounds the table and stands in front of you, blocking your view of the entrance entirely. Exhaling irritatedly, you finally look up at him, your face making an obvious statement that you’re not open to the chit-chat.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“You definitely seem like you could use some cheering up, let me be the–”

“Oh my God, are you really this dumb? It’s a no, I don’t want to talk to you, now leave the table!”

“Jesus, what a bitch,” he mutters under his breath as he walks away. Normally, you’d definitely call him out, but right now, you’re just staring at the entrance, almost like a maniac as the minutes pass by and there’s still no sign of Harry.

You check your phone, praying there’s gonna be a text at least, saying that he is just late, that he will be here soon, but nothing. It’s dead silent. 

“Fuck,” you breathe out, your feet jumping underneath the table. It’s already twelve past seven. This is not just being fashionably late now.

You wait some more, hoping for a miracle, but it never comes. So does Harry.

When it’s been over thirty minutes you chug down the rest of your cocktail you ordered to make you seem less like a loser and call it a night. On your way out of the bar you pull up your messages with Harry and send him one last text.

Y/N: Thanks for nothing.

And then you block his number, throwing the experience to the very back of your head while you delete Tinder off your phone.

The annual barbeque is here. Once a year your dad’s home turns into one big fair, he invites most of his employees, investors and partners, throwing a feast in his backyard. It means about five hundred people invade your previous home, where you still spend a lot of your time even though you have your own apartment now. 

You always come as well, because one, your dad loves to show you off and introduce to everyone and two, you usually use this occasion to network a bit. You’ve just opened your own gallery and what’s a better place to promote your art than a backyard full of wealthy investors? Selling your art can seem like an impossible task sometimes, or to be more precise, most of the time. Until your work is not known you make no profit, you need that first purchase that will bring in the rest and get the business rolling. Unfortunately you have not had that one first customer.

Yet.

It’s a sunny Saturday, as if your dad ordered the weather especially for the occasion. There has never been a barbeque with rain or cold before, your dad seems to have control over this as well. There’s endless food and drinks, several activities for children, since it’s a family friendly event and everyone seems to be enjoying themselves, mixing and mingling.

You’re nursing a mojito you mixed yourself, so it’s generous in the alcohol department. Wearing a white sundress you’re trying to have a word with everyone you know and everyone you want to know. 

“Sweetheart!” You hear your father calling out and you spot him a few feet away, waving at you. “Come over here, I want to introduce someone to you!”

Excusing yourself from the conversation you slalom between the guests and reach your father under the oak tree that’s near the tiny pond in the middle of the backyard. Yes, your father has a pond in his backyard, as well as two pools, a jacuzzi and a whole ass greenhouse. He is just that extra.

“Hi daddy,” you smile, joining him as he places a hand to your back and gestures towards a man who is currently turned away.

“Y/N, let me introduce you to the man who will take my place in the future, my successor, if you’d like. This is Harry Styles. Harry, this is my only daughter, Y/N.”

Your body makes the realization faster than your mind. The man turns towards you, but by that moment you’ve already recognized the tattoos you’ve looked at in pictures more than you’d like to admit. Then you see his face and your stomach drops before your brain processes who you’re facing.

Harry stood you up on your first date two weeks ago and you thought you’d never see him, but fate decided to make a joke out of it, because now he is here, in the flesh, looking at you with a just as shocked expression as yours.

You both are quick to gain control back over your faces and Harry is the first one to break the silence.

“Hi, it’s, um… It’s nice to meet you,” he clears his throat as he holds a hand out for you. For a short moment you think of just turning around and walking away, but you don’t want to cause a scene and have your father question your behavior, so instead, you shake his hand, the touch of his skin sending tingles down your spine as you let go of it in a bit of a hurry.

“Yeah, it’s really nice to meet you,” you nod, but can’t hold back the spite in your voice. Luckily, your dad seems to be oblivious to the scene happening in front of him. 

“Remember that awfully long procedure we had to find the perfect person to take over after me? Harry was the only one to survive it and I knew we found our guy.”

Your dad pats him on the shoulder proudly and Harry smiles back at him, but you notice how tense he appears to be, most likely because of your presence. 

“Ah, he seems like a decent, reliable guy,” you add with a forced smile and you know he understands the meaning behind your words.

“He is!” you dad beams. “And Harry, this is my wonderful daughter, she graduated from CalArts, top of her class, she is an exceptional artist, you should see her work!”

He has seen your work. Well, virtually. Naturally, you talked about what you do and he asked you to send pictures and you did.

He loved them. Or at least that’s what he said. Now you question everything he wrote in his messages. 

“I’m sure she is… fantastic.”

The torture continues for a few more minutes before others join the three of you and you have a chance to slip away, which you grab without hesitation. 

It feels like all your blood is pumping in your head, you can’t tell if you’re shocked, angry or disappointed, most likely all of these together. Part of you wants to chug something strong to forget about it all, but then another part wants to read everything on him and tell him to fuck himself.

A tequila shot and some internal raging later you’re inside the house, it’s quiet, everyone is enjoying the weather outside, so you have a chance to settle your thoughts. With another mean cocktail in your hands you’re pacing back and forth in the spacious living room, your racing thoughts making it impossible to calm yourself. 

“Can I at least try to explain myself?”

The voice coming from the sliding door that leads out to the backyard makes you jump and when you turn around you spot Harry standing there, looking awfully good, but you’re way too angry at him to acknowledge it. 

“I don’t think I want to hear it.”

Out of frustration you can’t do anything else than drinking and avoiding to look at him, hoping he might disappear if you ignored him. Unfortunately, it’s not the case, he moves closer.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry about standing you up. It was unacceptable, I know. I had a… um, I had a family situation and I didn’t have a chance to let you know I wouldn’t make it.”

“What situation?” you ask right away, and when he hesitates you know it’s all made up. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I don’t need your apology, you didn’t think it was necessary to tell me you wouldn’t come then, now you’re only apologizing because you were forced to meet me.”

“Y/N, it’s not… it’s not what you think.”

“Oh, I think it’s very much what I think it is,” you let out a bitter laugh. “It’s fine, but I thought you were mature enough to tell me you’re not interested in me anymore. I’m a big girl, I can take the rejection.”

“But I was interested, I still–” He cuts himself off, not sure if it’s fine to say that he is still into you in the situation you found yourself in. “Y/N, I didn’t want to hurt you. This… It’s not how I planned it. I’m sorry.”

You want to stay mad. You want to stand your ground and unleash all your rage at him, but… you can’t. He might have been bullshitting you about why he stood you up, but he truly seems like he feels bad. 

And he really looks way too good.

“Alright. Apology accepted.”

He looks visibly relieved, his shoulders ease and even a tiny smile appears on his lips.

“Thank you. Really. So… Do you want to have a drink now?” he chuckles, but the devilish smirk you flash at him scares him instantly.

“Oh, I said apology accepted. That doesn’t mean we’re fine and back at where we were.”

Before he could say anything or question what you said you walk away, leaving him in a blur. 

You only see him from afar a few times until the end of the barbeque, you catch him staring quite a few times as well and his looks reflect hunger, so you assume your looks definitely live up to his expectations after all. You miss when he leaves at the end, but you know it won’t be the last time you see each other. 

A plan is formed in your mind about how to teach him a lesson for standing you up. A little game, to be exact. 

Two days after the barbeque you have to meet your dad in his office and you definitely don’t want to miss the opportunity to mess with Harry. You go out of your way to change before heading to the office, wearing a tight, extra short black dress that will surely catch his attention.

With a stack of documents under your arm you stroll into the building as if you owned it. Well, for a while you were set to inherit the business, but when your father realized you’re more into art, he ditched his plans and started looking for his successor. You remember how nervous you were before sitting down with him and telling him you wouldn’t take over the company like he wanted you to. To your surprise, he took it well and you realized he just wants you to be happy, doing whatever your heart desires. 

As a side hustle, you still get involved in some part of the business, just to learn the basic ropes and gain skills you can use in other fields as well, so every once in a while you can be found in the office. Today is one of those days.

The girls behind the front desk smile at you warmly and let you pass by, heading straight up to your dad’s office on the top. Standing in the elevator you check your outfit, making sure it’s not too revealing, but will do the purpose you wore it for. It doesn’t look like you’re going clubbing, but the amount of leg you’re showing will definitely earn you Harry’s attention, just how you planned.

It’s like fate is playing on your side, when you’re approaching the office you spot Harry in there with your dad, a devilish smirk tugging on your lips as you finally reach the glass door, knocking on it gently. They both lift their head up, but the expressions they make are very different. 

While your dad seems happy to see you, gesturing for you to come in, Harry on the other hand seems… shocked to say the least. Most likely not because he is seeing you, but because of how you look. You catch his gaze wandering down your legs right away, his chest rising with a deep breath as you walk inside.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt. I brought the documents you asked for.”

“You’re not interrupting anything, come in!” your dad waves around, rounding his desk to greet you with two kisses on your cheeks.

“Hi Harry, it’s so nice to see you again,” you smile at him charmingly, angling yourself so your legs are perfectly in his view. 

“It’s uh, it’s nice to see you as well, Y/N.” 

The blush on his cheeks is proof that your plan worked pretty well. While chatting with your dad, you keep an eye on Harry and see him practically devouring you with his eyes, his jaw clenches every time you move your weight to one leg and pop your hip out to the side. It’s safe to say he is a fan of your outfit.

“Alright, I better get going,” you sigh and start to pack your stuff when you drop your pen on purpose. The plan was to lean down and tease him even more, but he jumps to your rescue instantly, picking it up for you, but it gets his face to the same level as your thighs and he straightens up faster than the speed of light.

“Here,” he hands you the pen, obviously avoiding looking at you. This is probably the most fun you’ve had in a long time.

“Thank you,” you smile at him, making sure to brush your fingers against his hand as you take the pen from him. “Have a nice day.”

And with that, you stroll out of the office. 

Y/N one, Harry zero.

You don’t give him much time to recover from your appearance at the office. A few days later, on Friday, you decide to take advantage of your dad’s pool, which is one of the reasons you spend so much time at his. 

And of course because you love him. 

Today however, you have a different reason to parade in his backyard in the tiniest bikini you own. 

Your dad’s office has floor to ceiling windows watching over the glistening pool. Most of the time you try to avoid having a pool day when you know your dad is working from home, but Harry is here today, so that changes everything. 

You saw him arrive a few hours ago from your room’s window and they are still working, so when you’re done with your own business calls you decide it’s time to go for a swim. The neon pink bikini you chose was worn last time in Miami on spring break when you were still in college, a wild weekend you’ll never forget, but you’ve changed since then and it’s not really your style, but it will serve the purpose the best. To help your success you ‘ve also covered your body in tanning oil, making you glisten in the sun.

Putting on your sunglasses you grab a towel and tanning oil and head outside. 

It’s hot outside and you’re already planning to lie in the sun after a swim, the water glistening on your body. Putting on your best poker face you finally walk out and approach the pool. You know this place like the back of your hand, so you know exactly when you come into view from the office. Squaring your shoulders you keep your head high and walk up to one of the sunbeds, dropping your stuff down before striking a not too obvious pose as you put your hair up. Angling yourself just right, you catch a glimpse of what’s going inside and you need everything in you not to start grinning when you spot Harry not far from the window, staring at you like he is about to burst. Your dad is somewhere in the back on the phone, oblivious to the scene that’s happening so close to him. 

The second act starts when you grab the tanning oil and start applying it, rubbing it into your skin, making a show out of it. Oh, how you wish you could see Harry’s face up close, but you have a good guess what’s happening in his mind and it’s very pleasing.

First, you lie down to tan some, normally you cover your head with a towel because of the heat and not care about how you look, but this time you try your best to look as if you just jumped out of a Sports Illustrated catalog. 

Not long later it’s time to jump in the pool. You swim a few laps before emerging from the cold water and returning to your sunbed, all while imagining what could Harry be thinking right now. 

You’re still chilling in the sun when you hear the sliding door open and spot your dad walking out. For a moment you freeze, afraid he might tell you off for using the pool when he is working with someone in his office, but he seems delighted.

“Hey, I have to head out for a quick meeting, I’ll pick up lunch on my way home, want me to grab you something?”

“That would be great, thank you,” you smile at him peeking over the rim of your sunglasses.

“Harry is here, so don’t be surprised if you run into him. He’ll probably stay in the office.”

“Alright.”

With that he turns around and disappears in the garage. You hear the engine start and then he drives away, leaving you and Harry as the only people in the house. Not to make it obvious, you turn to look inside the office, but you’re surprised to see that Harry is not there anymore. Has he left the house as well? Did your plan not work after all?

It’s starting to get too hot outside and you didn’t bring anything to drink so you decide to give up and go inside. Heading into the kitchen all you can think about is a glass of cold lemonade.

Rummaging through the fridge you grab the bowl of fruit salad you made yesterday and brought over and as you’re balancing everything in your hands and pushing the fridge’s door closed with your hips, it scares you when you see Harry standing behind you by the kitchen island.

“Jesus, are you a fucking ninja? I didn’t hear you.”

Walking closer you set everything down to the island and pretend like your pulse is not over the roof. Not just because of the scare, but because he looks incredibly good. FItted pants and simple white shirt, the top few buttons are undone, showing a glimpse of his chest, the sleeves are rolled up, allowing you to check out his tattoos as well. God, if you weren’t trying to teach him a lesson you would be all over him already.

It makes you feel better though that he is definitely checking you out as well. He is not trying to mask it too much, his eyes keep wandering down your body that’s still only covered at the most crucial parts by your tiny swimwear.

“Having a day off?” he leisurely asks, hiding his hands in his pockets as he leans against the island next to you.

“Nope, my work is pretty flexible. I’m mostly my own boss.”

You see him nod from the corner of your eyes as you dig into the fruit salad, trying to act casual and ignore the fact that you’re in a hot pink bikini while he is dressed for work. 

“So how long are we going to play this?” he then asks out of the blue. 

You know exactly what he is talking about, but you won’t give in that easily. With your hands on your hips you turn to face him with an innocent look on your face and you don’t miss how his eyes snap down to your chest, then to your lips before they move back to your eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

A tiny little smile tugs on the corner of his lips as he looks away, out to the terrace where the pool’s glistening surface is probably reminding him of the show you gave him not long ago.

“Is this supposed to be punishment?”

“Did you do something you deserve punishment for?” you tilt your head to the side. 

He opens his mouth to reply, but then decides against it, just stares back at you and you wish you could read his mind. He pushes himself away from the island and starts to walk away, you take it as your wind or this round, so you turn back to your snack, but then suddenly he moves back and cages you between his arms, his hands gripping the counter on either side of you. He is behind you now, not even touching you anywhere, but still, it’s as if he was everywhere on your body. Your breath hitches in your throat when you hear his low voice in your ear.

“If you want to play, I’m happy to play along. But be careful, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

This should be the perfect moment for a clever remark, but your mind is so fogged up you can’t articulate one solid thought. He moves back and you feel his presence disappear from behind you before you see him walking back towards the office, but before he could disappear he shoots one last comment at you.

“Pink looks good on you!”

He did not joke when he said he would play along.

So far, only you’ve been playing this game, but since your little pool side performance, Harry has definitely turned it up on his side as well. 

He has been pretty subtle so far. The bastard has noticed that his tattoos make you droop, that you love to check out his backside whenever he is wearing fitted pants and those smirks… they make you weak in the knees every damn time. And he takes every opportunity to use these against you whenever you run into each other. 

You’ve been dropping by your dad’s office a lot more often than usually in hopes of seeing Harry and he’s been a frequent guest at your dad’s house as well. Stolen looks, tiny touches and never ending teasing have become your usual lately and you’ve been enjoying it way too much probably. 

It’s been pretty long since you had a crush and it’s an exciting change to have this little thing going on with Harry, whatever it really is. 

The major change is that you’ve started to text again. A few days after your encounter in your dad’s kitchen the flow started again and you’ve been talking ever since. It’s like before the failed date. 

Two weeks pass by and you realize it’s been only small little games, nothing extreme since your show at the pool. You’ve been trying to come up with a move that will leave him defeated and a shopping spree with Dani is what gives you the idea. 

She always makes you go lingerie shopping, she likes to surprise her boyfriend with new sets and while looking around you find one that catches your eyes and you end up buying it with the pure intention of making it part of your game. 

You’ve never been that big of a fan of fancy lingerie sets, but you do know it’s what you need to spice the game up. 

When you’re finally home you put on the quite revealing black set, fix your hair and even look up what poses are the best if you want to send racy pictures to your partner. Well, Harry is not your romantic partner, but definitely your partner in this game. 

You take quite a few pictures, some in the mirror, some with a timer, your camera roll turns into the newest issue of PlayBoy and it takes even more time for you to choose just one. When you finally settle on one it’s time for the fun part. Opening up the text threat with Harry, you send the photo and a few moments later a text.

Y/N: Sorry, meant to send it to someone else.

And then you just wait. 

For an hour your message stays unread, but then the status changes and your heart jumps into your throat. He saw the message eleven minutes ago, but there’s no response and it sends you down the rabbit hole.

Did your plan work? Is he fighting a major hard-on at the office? Or does he think your attempt to seduce him was ridiculous? Is he gonna lecture you about sending nudes? Why is he not responding???

Minutes turn into an hour and you’re losing hair at this point, regretting you even thought about sending him a spicy picture and you’re about to block his number, getting yourself ready to never see him again when your phone finally chimes with a message and Harry’s name appears in the notification.

HARRY: No. Shit like this can only be meant for me. I’m serious.

You gasp. Almost moan reading his words. And suddenly you forget about the madness you went through in the past hour. It was worth it, it was all worth it because this one message has lit you on fire. 

His message stunned you so much you didn’t even reply. What could be said after that? 

Got it, sir.

Or maybe…

Don’t tell me what to do.

Oh yeah, that would have really messed with him, but you chose silence and he didn’t double text you either. It stopped the flow of regular messages too and in the next three days you realize how much you miss him when you’re not talking. 

You’re falling for him and you hate that beside the little games, he is not taking the step you want him to. 

A few days after the picture was sent an old friend of yours comes to visit his family in the city and the two of you agree to catch up over dinner. Salim was your study buddy through college, he was always up to spend the entire day in the library whenever you had a theoretical exam to take. Art school wasn’t just painting and creating all the time, unfortunately. After graduation he moved to France with his boyfriend and has been living there for the past years, but he often comes home to visit his loved ones and he always makes time for you as well. You’ve been keeping in touch, but not as regularly as you used to and it’s great to talk when you’re not only in the same time zone but also in the same room. 

“Look at you! You’re glowing!” he greets you when you get out of the Uber and he wraps you in a tight hug. 

“Not as much as you! I see Claude is taking good care of you!” you chuckle, squeezing him back before letting go of each other. He looks stylish as always and you notice he’s starting to dress more and more like Claude, whose style is excellent, by the way. They fit each other really well.

You walk into the restaurant, it’s one of your favorite places and the host shows you your table. You order appetizers and drinks and dig into everything you haven’t discussed over the phone in the past couple of months. 

“Now, tell me about that Tinder guy you last mentioned,” Salim smirks at you over the table and you realize you never told him the whole story, just that you were going on a date with Harry. 

A lot has happened since then.

You update him about the failed date and the meeting at the barbeque and how you’ve been messing with each other since then. 

“You did what?” He almost chokes on his wine.

“I sent him a nude picture,” you repeat yourself with a coy smile. 

“You’re really brave, I would have never had the balls,” he snorts. 

“I needed to step my game up. But we’ve been stuck since then.”

“He’s too busy jerking off to your photo,” he chuckles.

“No,” you smile. “Maybe he is… here.”

Your eyes grow wide when you spot the all too familiar form of Harry by the bar and he is staring at you with a bewildered look that does things to you that you can’t exactly explain. 

“What?” Salim’s face forms a confused frown. 

“He is… literally here. At the bar and don’t turn around, but he is looking straight at us.”

Your body is reacting as if you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to, but nothing like that is happening, so you’re not sure why your reaction is so intense. Luckily, discretion is no problem for Salim, so he turns to see Harry in a way that’s not too obvious. When he looks back at you his eyes are just as wide as yours.

“Holy shit, he really is hot!”

“I know!” you whisper, not sure what to do, because Harry is still very much staring at you. “Fuck, should I say hi?”

“No, let him come to you if he wants to!”

Nodding, you try your best to focus on the food and your friend in front of you, but it’s almost impossible when you can clearly see Harry over Salim’s shoulder. Either he keeps staring at you or you always catch him looking, doesn’t matter, because it makes your stomach drop every time your gaze meets his. 

Then your phone lights up with a text from him.

HARRY: I hope it’s not a date.

“Oh my God, he thinks we are on a date,” you whisper to Salim upon reading the text while keeping your face as straight as humanly possible. 

“Is he jealous?”

“Most likely,” you nod, typing your response.

Y/N: And what if it is?

His reply comes before you could even lock the phone.

HARRY: It better not be.

Y/N: So bossy. Unfortunately, you have no right to hold me back from dating.

“I think I stood my ground, but I feel like I’m gonna have a heart attack.”

Placing the phone back to the table with screen down you’re determined to focus on Salim from now on, but it’s just impossible to move on from those texts. At some point however, Harry disappears from your view and you fight the urge to check your phone to see if he had any response.

While Salim is trying to decide if he wants some dessert or just another cocktail you excuse yourself to the restroom. It’s definitely been an emotional rollercoaster, not just your usual friendly catch-up, you’ll surely be thinking about it for a while. 

Just as you’re about to close the door behind you a foot sticks in and stops you and then everything happens so fast.

The door is forced open and you gasp as you take a step back and watch Harry walk in, close the door behind him and lock it as well. His eyes are burning as he looks at you and you’re just a speechless ragdoll as he pushes you against the cold, tiled wall, caging you between his arms, his hips pressing against yours.

“Who is he?” he hisses at you, his pupils dilated and wild and you’ve never seen him from this close, you’re basically breathing the same air.

“He’s…” You can’t speak or form any words, the air is pushed out of your lungs every time you try to fill them enough to give you the strength to speak up. Fuck, you’ve never seen him like this, but it’s making your pussy throb for sure.

“Answer me or I’ll go out and make a scene to find out.”

“He’s just a friend,” you manage to breathe out. 

“Are you fucking him?”

“No.” You want to tell him that you couldn’t even if you wanted to, because Salim would be more interested in fucking him than you, but the words die on your tongue when he exhales sharply at your answer.

“Fuck your little games, Y/N,” he then says, almost growls as he shakes his head in defeat. 

“Fuck me instead,” you hear yourself saying, but it’s as if it wasn’t you who spoke, yet you still said exactly what you had in your mind. 

HIs eyes are throwing flames again when one of his hands moves to the side of your neck, his thumb moving under your chin to tilt your head upwards, angling your head, but still just teasing you.

“No more games.”

“No,” you shake your head desperately. Your hands have found their way to his waist and you fist his shirt, fighting the urge to rip it off him.

“I mean it, Y/N. It’s all in or nothing. I want you to be mine.”

“I’m already yours.”

His kiss comes so fast your head goes dizzy for a second before you recover and return it just as eagerly as it came. It’s been the longest foreplay, weeks worth of teasing and yearning after each other end now as Harry’s body presses you against the wall with so much force it’s almost too much, but you want him as close as possible. 

Even though you’re certain you’ve lost your mind, your consciousness still knows you’re in a public bathroom and you have limited time. Harry knows too and he wastes no time moving you over to the counter, he hoists you up and sits you on top of the granite next to the sink. You gladly wrap your legs around his waist and lock him against you while his mouth is now exploring the curve of your neck and shoulders, desperately pushing the straps of your dress to the side to reach more of your skin. Your body is reacting instantly to him, your hips roll against him and you feel his bulge between your legs, a tortured moan slipping out of your mouth. 

“Harry!” you beg him, when his hand slips under your dress and into your underwear, his skilled fingers teasing you just right, but you need him fast and hard, this is not the time and place to play games.

“I wish I could take my time with you,” he grunts before playfully biting the soft skin on your neck while unbuckling his belt. “But I’m gonna fuck you fast and you’ll take it like the good little slut you are.”

All you can do is whine and force your legs further apart, watching him push his pants and underwear down in one motion, his cock springing free, ready to ruin you. Harry pushes your dress up your torso and hooks a finger into your panties, pushing the fabric to the side to reveal your drenched pussy. 

“Have you thought about me while touching yourself?” he asks, his other hand going to his cock, lazily tugging on it, precum dripping from the tip.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

He jerks on his cock a few more times before spitting on it and pushing inside you without warning. A scream dies in your throat, because you bite into your own hand not to make too much noise, but he is definitely bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with, his erection is filling you up, stretching you like nothing and no one before.

“Don’t whine, I know you can take it,” he pants, his eyes rapidly switching between your face and his cock buried balls deep inside you. 

All you can do is nod before he starts moving. He gives you a few slow thrusts to adjust, but then he picks his pace up and starts slamming into you ruthlessly.

And you love every moment of it.

It’s so animalistic, so intoxicating, your head feels dizzy again and you need everything inside you not to start screaming his name. Normally you need more stimulation and time to feel your orgasm building up in the pit of your stomach, but it’s different with Harry. You can already feel your climax nearing.

“So fucking good, you take me so well,” he preaches you, his hands holding onto your thighs to keep you in place and you curl an arm around his neck to pull yourself closer to him, pressing your lips to his in a messy kiss.

“I wanted to fuck you the moment I saw you in that bar.”

His words reach your brain and you process what he said, but you can’t reply at that moment, because you’re already on the verge of your orgasm.

It doesn’t take long for the both of you to reach your climax, he is the first one but you chase after him just seconds later. It lasts long and he keeps thrusting into you even when it’s dying down. His face is buried in your neck when he finally stops and you both are panting heavily.

When he lifts his head he’s looking at you with hazy eyes, but the smile that tugs on the corners of his lips is something you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

“You said you wanted to fuck me the moment you saw me at the bar,” you repeat his words from earlier now that you can actually form words. Judging from the look on his face he knows why you’re questioning him.

You never met at the bar, he stood you up that night.

“I went there,” he admits. “I saw that other guy flirting with you and… I didn’t think I stood a chance with you. So I left.”

You’re staring back at him in disbelief. All this time you thought he didn’t come because you weren’t good enough for him, but it was the opposite. He was there. He came and wanted to meet you, but lost his confidence because of that random guy.

“You’re the only person who ever stood a chance with me,” you softly say as you reach up to take his face in your hands.

“I thought I was too old for you.”

“But I knew you were older all along,” you chuckle. “It was never an issue for me.”

“I know,” he admits with a sigh. “I fucked up, I’m sorry.” He kisses you softly and it’s mind-blowing how he was fucking you hard just moments ago and now he is treating you so gently.

“I need to go back, Salim will get suspicious,” you sigh as you slip off the counter, trying to fix yourself.

“Oh, your date is waiting for you,” he teases you, pulling his pants back up.

“He is gay, Harry,” you chuckle and watch his expression change.

“Okay, I approve.”

You laugh and pull him down for another kiss.

“Should we talk about this after?”

“I can come over when you get home.”

“I’m afraid we won’t do much talking if you do that,” you grin at him, arching an eyebrow.

“Promise, I’ll be a gentleman for at least thirty minutes. That should be enough for all the talking.”

“Uhuh, alright. See you at mine then,” you nod before slipping out of the bathroom.

The plates are empty, dinner is now officially nearing its end but you still haven’t broken the news to your dad. 

The news that you and Harry are together.

He is sitting across from you at the table, his hesitant eyes finding your gaze every other minute. He is shitting his pants, you know that, even though you told him your dad will probably take it well. He is not one to stress about such things, but Harry didn’t believe you, he thinks he’ll throw him out of the company and tell you to never see him again.

Absurd. 

Clearing your throat you decide it’s time for the announcement.

“Dad, I want to tell you something,” you speak up and panic flashes through Harry’s face for a moment, but he’s quick to mask it. 

“Alright, I’m listening,” he smiles at you.

“Okay, I’ll just… Um, I want you to know that I’ve been dating someone. It’s kind of… serious,” you add, your eyes finding Harry over the table and you don’t miss the blush on his cheeks. 

“That’s amazing! Do I know this person?” your dad enthuses.

“Well, you know him very well. He is actually sitting here at the table.”

You watch as realization washes over his face, he looks over at Harry and then back at you, while you both wait for his reaction.

Then a tiny smile appears on his face and you know you were right, there was nothing to worry about.

“That’s great news, I’m happy for you.”

Harry exhales in relief and you can’t help but laugh.

“See? I told you,” you smirk at him with a shrug.

“Are you sure you’re alright with it?” Harry asks, still a bit doubtful, but your dad just smiles at him warmly. 

“I’m more than sure, son. Why would I not be alright with it? I trust you with my company, I trust you with my daughter too. Easy as it is.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[blurreynights]

I think the biggest culture shock I experienced in Finland so far is around friendships, as well as the area where I learned a lot of valuable things about myself. I might not be entirely right about this as I've only been here for a short time, but those are my main take-aways:

(under the cut to not block ur tags w my english rambling)

Trying to build real friendships takes time, much longer than in my home country. It is relatively easy to get in contact with Germans in my experience, especially if you live in a bigger city and speak the language, ESPECIALLY if you are a student and just starting out in a new phase of your life. You will naturally hang out frequently if you match well and spend a lot of time together. It might take a few meetings before people will invite u to their home, but generally there's not much distance as soon as the ice is broken.

Here I feel like people are much slower and more reluctant to open up. But that doesn't equal rejection, it's simply a slower process and you will still be able to tell the difference between being rejected and being on the path of friendship. In Germany, it's usually a lot more fast paced and there is a small window you have to catch to get into tight friendgroups. If you miss it, no chance of ever going back, vibe gone chance gone. Also people who might have found you interesting could lose interest if you wait for too long (meaning usually a month or so) to get back to them.

I actually realized that this way of socializing stresses me tf out. I much prefer a more laid back approach where you can get to know each other without time limitations (of course prerequisite is that you have the time). It is a much more sustainable, thoughtful and respectful approach to someone elses time. You're not treated as disposable, but rather as a person someone actively chooses to get to know.

Likewise, if people feel like they either do not vibe with you or if they already have a very busy social life or life in general, they will let you know and don't pretend to have time or like you. This was quite a new thing to me and felt a bit cold, but I actually really appreciate it now, as it's saving you from stressful, draining interpersonal connections. It also made me respect some people immensely, because they know their own self worth and boundaries quite well.

It made me reflect upon my tendency to be a people pleaser, and the strong yearning I have to treat my own relationships the same way as I've experienced it here. I've grown so tired of superficial connections that are placeholders for true, fulfilling friendships. I used to think being lonely was the worst thing in the world. It kind of is still awful, but what's worse is being surrounded by a bunch of people you don't really click with or can rely on, which leaves you lonely as well. I do think letting go of this is something that will slowly seep over into my own life, as it is so freeing.

I also intend on staying, or rather coming back when I've finished up all my business back in Germany (I am not really rooted to the city I live in). People who I've told about this recent development were very worried if I would be able to be happy in a country that is (generally) much more reserved when it comes to social interaction, as I need social interaction regularly. I don't really think it's that big of an issue, as I think I can balance out people's passive approach with my more active one in the beginning. I have a high social battery, so I'm fine with interacting with a few more people, before people get truly comfortable to hang out on the regular. Yet I also prefer quality interactions over a bunch of small talk meetups I don't care about. I also still have my core friends who I talk to regularly on the phone, and this has been a tradition for years already before I came here.

What I am immensely struggling with right now is trying to make sense of all the connections I made in the past 10 years. This is the 6th city I lived in the last decade, and the 8th move. All my relationships feel so spread out and scattered. I am holding on to some solely because those people were there when I moved somewhere new and I didn't have anyone else. Like back in school, when I was friends with people because they were the only ones there. It's all a bit confusing and painful right now, as my values and perspectives are changing. I think there are a lot of people moving from the friends to acquaintance category right now. I'm completely redefining friendships for me at the moment.