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freedomfireflies · 1 year

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Five to Go Live*

Summary: The fifth and final part to One for the Money*

Mr. Styles, your boss (and the CEO of the company you work for), offers to help you expand your OnlyFans business.

But maybe you want more.

And maybe he does, too.

Word Count: 11.5k (I have no idea what happened tbh)

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

“Good morning, Mr. Styles.”

The tense frame of the man pacing in front of the window stills when he hears your greeting.

You’re five minutes early, coffee in hand, ready to begin your workday.

However, he doesn’t turn around as you enter his office. But the slight glimpse of his profile lets you know he’s acutely aware of your presence.

He stays by his desk, offering nothing more than his silence as you set down his drink and move for the couch.

“Good morning,” is his brisk greeting. It’s not any warmer or colder than usual. It’s just him. “Do you have the reports I asked for?”

“Right here.” You drop them onto the coffee table. “Ready for your meeting this afternoon.”

“Good.” He stares out at the city, unwilling to look you in the eye. “And you’ve confirmed with Nadia?”

“Yes. She’s calling for a driver as we speak.”

He nods once, fingers flexing beside his thighs before he finally ventures a glance over his shoulder. “And I suppose you’d like to talk to me about the other day.”

You flip open the laptop and pull up your email, eyebrow raised. “The other day?”

He turns to you, and you feel his heated stare. “I believe I owe you an explanation.”

“Not really,” you respond, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “You agreed to help me with the video, and you did. I didn’t expect you to stay, Sir.”

Your peripheral catches his slight frown. “You didn’t?”

“No.” You open his schedule and begin jotting down a few notes from Nadia’s email. “You’re not exactly the cuddling type. Probably would have been weirder if you had stayed.”

His hands disappear into his pockets as he regards you. “I never meant to upset you.”

“You didn’t.” Another shrug. “I knew what I agreed to, and now we’re done. No harm, no foul.”

The frown deepens. “Still, I shouldn’t have walked out on you like that—”

“Mr. Styles,” you interrupt, turning to face him, “I wasn’t under the illusion that things would change just because we fucked. I didn’t need aftercare, I didn’t need your words of affirmation, and I didn’t need you to stay.”

Something unrecognizable passes over his features.

You lean forward. “We’re good, Sir.”

The office goes quiet. You know him well enough by now to know what it looks like when he’s biting back a response.

And you imagine there are quite a few things he’d like to berate you for, but instead, he merely clamps his jaw shut and nods.

“All right.” He returns to his desk and takes a seat. “Let’s begin.”

The rest of the workweek carries on like usual. Things return to normal. Or at least to the way they were before he admitted to knowing about your outside activities.

And you find that you’re grateful for that. It’s much easier to only imagine him as your boss instead of your…business partner.

What happened that afternoon in the hotel room was great. Fantastic, even. But it was only ever an act of generosity. A favor, more like. He helped you exactly the way he said he would and now it’s over.

You won’t ever have to think about him like that again.

So…you don’t.

At least, you try not to. But it proves quite difficult.

After deciding against posting the whole video for your channel, and instead only uploading the part where he comes on your tits, it becomes harder to ignore what you two have done.

After all, the response is overwhelming. Positive, excited, and extremely lucrative. Most of the requests are for more of the mysterious man they’ve come to know, and you try not to feel disappointed when you realize there won’t be any more guest appearances.

You wonder if he’s watched it. Wonder if he remembers that day the way you do.

Sometimes you slip up, and you watch the beginning just to hear him talk to you. You watch the way you undress him. Watch the way he kisses you. Watch the way he drives himself inside of you and begs you to come for him.

But then it hits you. Like a fucking freight train. It won’t ever happen again, and lingering on the one time it did isn’t healthy.

So, you turn it off, and attempt to resume life as normal.

You reach out to Max to apologize yet again for what happened, and he’s incredibly understanding. He asks if you’d like to meet for drinks and go over another scene for the future.

And you agree because you will do anything to put Mr. Styles in your rearview mirror.

You don’t mention the meeting to your boss. You figure it won’t do any good, and even if he disapproved, it’s not like he would tell you.

This is your game now. Not his.

So, with a new lease on life, you head for the bar to meet with Max, eager to find out what he has in store.

He’s happy to see you. Pulling out your chair and refusing any attempts at apologies that you offer.

Which you’re more than appreciative of, although you can’t help feeling a bit guilty that he didn’t get the content he’d been wanting.

“Seriously, don’t even worry about it,” he repeats for the third time since you sat down. “Honestly. I get it, once other people get involved, it gets complicated.”

“Yeah,” you agree quietly, sheepishly glancing down at your lap. “But still. He shouldn’t have…I shouldn’t have let him run you out like that.”

He smiles. “It’s fine. Listen, your boyfriend has nothing to worry about. Really. And we can proceed however you feel is best—”

“Oh, no, he’s…he’s not my boyfriend,” you interject, head shaking quickly. “No, he was just…nobody. He’s nobody. Anymore.”

Max studies you for a moment, seemingly curious at your insistence. “Oh? Does…he know that?”

You swallow thickly and take hold of your glass. “Yeah. He does.”

A beat before he nods.

“All right.” Max takes a swig himself. “As long as you’re sure this is something you want.”

You nod but can’t help finding yourself hesitating. “Yeah, it’s…yeah. Of course.”

His expression softens. “Boyfriend or not, he still has a hold over you, doesn’t he?”

And you grimace because you hate the way it sounds. Hate how obvious it must be to everyone else. Hate that it’s even a thing at all.

“No, he just…he’s infuriating,” you argue. “I mean, you were there. You saw what he’s like.”

“I was and I did,” he agrees with a smirk. “Infuriating is the nicer way to put it.”

“He’s a dick,” you correct, making you both smile. “But I trusted him. And I trusted his judgment. And him being so…blunt is sometimes a good thing. Because there’s no room for overthinking or questioning what he really wants. He tells you. Exactly how he feels, exactly how he feels it.”

Max nods thoughtfully, urging you to continue.

“And yet there are so many things I feel like he’s keeping from me,” you murmur. “And maybe he doesn’t owe me answers. Maybe it doesn’t even matter, but I just…there was this moment when we were on the same page. When it felt so seamless, and easy, and good. And now…”

Max sighs. “Now he’s nobody.”

You both grow quiet as you let this settle.

“Yeah,” you whisper, taking a sip of your drink. “He’s nobody. And it’s nothing. And it’s over anyway, so…I’m free to do whatever I’d like.”

He laughs. “That’s a great attitude.”

“Why thank you very much.”

“Of course.” He rubs his hands together. “Well, I guess in that case…maybe we should go over—”

“Peach Valentine.”

And almost as if you spoke him into existence, that familiar voice finds you. Cutting right through your conversation as chills fly up the back of your neck.

You almost don’t want to look. Want to pretend that this is merely a subconscious projection of the very last man you want to see.

But you can feel his presence behind you. Can smell his cologne and can see the surprised look on Max’s face.

Of course he’s here.

Slowly, you turn around, letting your eyes find the tall figure looming only a foot or two away.

He’s wearing an expression you know all too well. The one that tells you exactly what he’s thinking without him having to say a single word.

And your stomach sinks.

“Sir,” you whisper, voice oddly timid before you clear your throat and straighten up. “Hello.”

For a moment, he’s quiet. Offering nothing more than a blank stare. Then, he looks at Max. He looks at you. And nobody speaks.

Finally, his jaw sets, and his hands bury themselves deep within his expensive pockets. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m…I’m meeting with Max,” you reply, shooting a smile toward your new friend.

Mr. Styles frowns. “You didn’t tell me you were meeting him.”

“I didn’t think I had to,” you retort, lowering your voice as you send him a pointed look. “Seeing as we’re not partners anymore.”

His eyes narrow. “You’re still my assistant. And your well-being is my concern.”

“Oh? I thought what I did with my personal life didn’t concern you.”

“It does when it has to do with him.”

Your glare begins to mirror his. “Well, since I am in need of a new business partner, I figured Max would be the perfect one to ask.”

Mr. Styles rolls his shoulders back, regarding you carefully. “And since when are you in need of a new business partner?”

“Since my old one walked out on me.”

This does it. His features twist into an unforgiving and rather harsh look of disdain as he steps closer and drops his tone. “I told you, I needed to explain—”

“No, you don’t need to explain,” you correct. “I’m not upset. I’m not bitter. I’m not angry. But that doesn’t change the fact that our agreement is over.”

His teeth grit. “Just because I left doesn’t mean I was ending our deal—”

“It does in my book. I don’t have time to wait for you, Sir.” You sit up, leveling the playing field. “Now if you’ll excuse me—”

His fingers suddenly wrap around your upper arm, tugging on you until your feet hit the floor, forcing you to stand. “I need to talk to you.”

A bit surprised, you blink rapidly and attempt to pull yourself free. “Mr. Styles—”

“Now, Peach.”

You want to argue. Want to fight him on this. Want to stay strong, stay with Max. Send the mean man away.

But you know him, no matter how belligerent he’s being. And there’s something in those eyes that you’ve found yourself lost in that persuades you to nod and follow him to the hallway.

The moment you’re alone and the loud music has been dulled to a quiet hum, you step away from him. Put the necessary distance between your bodies as he watches you go.

“You shouldn’t be talking to him,” he says simply, almost as if it were obvious. “In fact, you shouldn’t be here at all.”

You scoff, rearing back to stare at him incredulously. “I’m sorry…you’re joking, right?”

“It’s a work night,” he replies, still infuriatingly cool. “And we agreed you wouldn’t do business with him—”

“We agreed?” Your eyebrow raises. “No, we didn’t agree on anything. You ran him out of the room without so much as checking with me first. And since when are we a we at all?”

He’s far too calm for your liking. “I told you, I’m still your boss. And partner. I want what’s best for you—”

“Really? Is that why you left?”

Once again, he scowls. “I told you, I had things to do—”

“Oh, I’m sure,” you snort. “Look, I don’t care why you left. I don’t even care that you left. But you did leave. So if I want to film with Max, I have every right to do so—”

“You do,” he agrees. “But you’re much smarter than that, Peach. And you know it.”

“Yeah? And what makes me so smart, hm? Sleeping with you?”

His expression twists into something you don’t recognize. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what? Sleep with you? Or point out that we did?”

“Peach—”

“No, you know what?” You take a brave step forward. “You have no right to come in here and demand that I leave him. Max is a good guy. In fact, of all the people that I’ve messaged on OnlyFans, he’s the only one that hasn’t said something skeevy or inappropriate.”

His expression falls. “Are you being harassed?”

“Not if I don’t respond. The block button exists for a reason. And that’s not even the point. The point is that you told me to do this. You told me it would be good for my channel to collaborate—”

“But not with him.”

“Then who? You?”

The hallway stills as Mr. Styles leans back. “This was never about me.”

“No. It wasn’t. It was about me,” you agree. “That’s what you promised. That this would be about what I wanted to do. And I want to meet with Max.”

The glare returns. “If you’re trying to punish me—”

“Punish you?” You laugh but it’s void of all humor. “Punish you for what? For being exactly who I thought you were?”

“You shouldn’t be here with him,” he says again, and your eyes roll.

“Then where should I be, huh, Sir? Should I be at home? Like a good little girl?” You take another step forward. “Should I be on my knees, waiting for you? Should I be fucking myself with that toy you bought? Pretending it’s you?”

You notice the muscles in his jaw constrict as he steels himself and throws you a look of warning. “Peach—”

“Because if I can’t fuck Max, and I can’t fuck you, then what do you want from me?” Another step. “You’re never happy. I can never make you happy—”

“Peach—”

“I get that this meant nothing to you. I get that.” You’re only inches away now. “But…you’re so confusing. You’re so goddamn confusing, and I never know what you really want. Sometimes I think I do, and other times…”

His lips purse shut but his eyes are soft.

“I feel like we used to want the same thing,” you admit quietly, heart in your throat as you stare up at the beautiful man before you. Your rage dwindles down to a contemplative annoyance. “And now we don’t. So…excuse me for trying to find somebody who does want me.”

Suddenly, he surges forward. Stepping up to you so quickly, and with so much power that it forces you to stumble back into the wall.

He cages you there, his broad chest brushing against yours as he peers down, features hard and unmoving.

“And you think that somebody is Max?” he sneers, almost as if mocking you. “You think that he wants anything more from you than the money you’ll make him?”

“Who cares?” you argue, but it’s weaker than you’d like. “It’s an investment, you said so yourself—”

“I am your investor. Not him,” Mr. Styles nearly barks, practically chastising you. “How could it ever be him—”

“Because he’s everything you aren’t.”

He doesn’t even flinch, instead cocking his head to the side as he smirks. “So that’s what this is? You’re trying to replace me? Trying to find somebody better?”

“Well it’s not hard.”

The Cheshire-like grin grows. “Fine, Peach. Let me ask you this…do you like who you are with him? Do you like the role he puts you in?”

Your lashes flutter. “I don’t…I don’t know what you mean—”

“Yes, you do.” His head dips until he’s fully in your space, making it impossible to know anything else but him. “Do you like how he treats you as though you’re nothing more than a means to his end?”

A breath catches in your throat.

“Do you like how it’s never about you? Only him?”

You squirm back into the wall, once again attempting to create a bit of distance, but failing miserably as he places a hand next to your head.

“Do you like how insignificant he is?” His voice has dropped to a dangerous purr, like silk that slips across your cheek. “Or did you like it better with me?”

A question meant to trap you and you can do nothing more than stare at the buttons on his shirt as you will yourself not to gasp.

“Because I think you like yourself better in my reflection,” he murmurs, his other palm now smoothing across your hip, subtly tugging you into his body. “The way I make you beg for me. The way I touch you. Kiss you. Fuck you.”

The words weigh heavy on your chest, making it hard to breathe as his nose softly ghosts against yours.

“Everything is better with me. And you know it. So why are you wasting your time with him? Hm, Peach? Who are you really trying to punish? Me…or you?”

And you could just slap him. You really could. Could fucking slap the dimples right off his face for being so smug.

“I’m not punishing anybody,” you whisper, nails curling into your palms to brace yourself. “I’m just doing what you told me to.”

“Well now I’m telling you to leave him.”

“Why?”

His eyes flick between yours. “Why do you think?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think. I want to hear you say it.”

The frown returns. “Peach—”

“Say it, Mr. Styles,” you repeat. “And maybe I will leave him. Maybe I’ll walk out of this bar, and never look back. I’ll delete his number, I’ll block him, I’ll never think of reaching out to him again. I’ll leave. With you.”

You can see the way he internalizes this. Can feel his grip tighten, can see the muscles in the arm beside your head flex.

“Just say it,” you mumble again, reaching out to brush your fingers down his chest. “Tell me what you really want. Because maybe I want it, too.”

Everything moves around you. The world, time, this moment.

But neither of you move.

And as the seconds pass, you can’t help but silently will him to finally be honest with you. To finally succumb to what he really needs. To make everything that’s happened mean something.

Then, his eyebrows weave together, and his lips turn down. “I want you to go home,” he finally says, and your heart drops so fast, it makes your head spin. “You’re drunk, and you shouldn’t be alone with him.”

“I’m not drunk,” you retort, now shoving on his sternum to create that space you so desperately need. “I’ve had one drink. And I’m not alone. You’re here.”

And maybe it’s too dark in this hallway to be sure, but you’re almost positive you see something painful flash behind his eyes.

“I won’t be for long,” he replies as he pushes off the wall and steps back. “I have other things to do besides babysit you.”

And that is your slap to the face.

Your hands ball into fists by your side. “You are such a fucking asshole. I never asked you to babysit me. I didn’t even want you here—”

“Clearly you need it,” he argues. “Since you aren’t capable of making decisions on your own. Even when you’re sober.”

You scoff so loud, it makes your throat sore. “I was doing just fine without you—”

“You were scraping by,” he corrects. “And you could do so much better if you realized that he’s nothing but a waste of time and sperm.”

Your nose crinkles as you make your way to the end of the hall, ready to rid yourself of him. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t…I can’t argue with you over the same goddamn thing. Okay, Max is nice to me. He tells me what he actually feels, and that’s something you could never understand.”

You think you see the briefest hint of disappointment, but it’s replaced just as quickly by a look of unamused indignation. “Fine. If you’d like your sex life and your career to be as mediocre as his cock…by all means. The choice is yours.”

“It is,” you agree coldly, ready to turn on your heel and run. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Styles.”

With that, you exit the hallway, leaving him behind.

And he lets you.

The following day, things aren’t as awkward as you expected. Mr. Styles doesn’t mention your run-in at the bar, nor does he attempt to restart the conversation about Max.

He treats you the way he did when he first hired you. With nothing but professionalism and distance.

At first, you’re thankful. There are no more sly comments or lingering stares at your chest. He follows your terms to let you make your own decisions. He lets your business be yours.

And he’s nothing more than your boss.

But as the days progress, you can’t shake the nagging thought that something bigger is afoot. Almost as though something is wrong. Off.

Maybe it’s just in your head. Maybe you want to believe he’s more affected by this little falling out than he pretends to be.

But you’ve known him for over a year. You know what it looks like when he’s upset, and this…this is not it.

However, you decide to push away the inclination altogether, and carry on with your work as usual. Because even if something is wrong, it’s none of your concern anymore.

That is until Nadia mentions it over lunch.

“Listen, he’s a very complicated man,” she says when you comment on his odd behavior, waving her salad fork through the air. “He tries so hard to appear uninterested, but I know it’s just an act. Nobody is that heartless.”

You swirl your French fry around in your ketchup, mulling this over. “I don’t know. He doesn’t…I don’t think he’s heartless. I think that’s just…who he is. He has a one-track mind.”

Nadia snorts. “Please. You should have seen him before…”

Your little lunch corner goes oddly silent as she suddenly presses her lips together and winces.

“Before…?” you repeat curiously, head tilting.

“Nothing,” she’s quick to reply, dismissing the comment with a flutter of her hand. “No, nothing. He just…he was more open when he first started the company, that’s all.”

You know there’s more to that story than she’s letting on, but you don’t push. Instead nodding your head as you return to your burger, letting the inquiry rest.

However, the subject is changed for all of three minutes before she sighs, and finally says, “Okay, look, it’s none of my business. And I don’t even know all of details, but maybe this will help make your job…easier?”

Once again struck with curiosity, you motion for her to continue.

“He had an assistant before you,” she begins. “His first assistant actually. I don’t know too much because I was working the mail room. But I do know that they were really close. Maybe friends, maybe more. I don’t know. But they were close.”

You lean back in your seat, endlessly intrigued as you wait for the rest.

“And everybody loved them together. She made him so happy. He was always smiling, always laughing, always walking around the office talking to everybody. Engaging in chit chat and catching up on everyone’s lives.”

It’s odd to picture your boss so open. So…infatuated. In fact, this fantasy she’s painting doesn’t sound like the man you know at all.

You have to wonder how different things would have been if he were still the same.

“Anyway, I don’t know what happened exactly, but something bad,” Nadia sighs. “The rumor was that she was seeing somebody he didn’t like. He got crazy possessive over her, and it drove them apart. She quit, and he became this sullen, hollow version of himself. And now that’s just who he is, I guess.”

“That’s…so sad,” is about all you can offer, frowning some as she nods.

“Yeah. It was,” she agrees. “After her, he didn’t hire another personal assistant for quite some time. Until you, actually. Which was kind of surprising, and I think we were all a little worried for you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, you seem to be handling him just fine, which is great. But…I don’t know. He just became very…cold. Distant, I guess. Doesn’t really create personal relationships anymore.”

You have to admit that this makes sense, although it doesn’t exactly help make things any clearer for you. “That must have been hard for him.”

“Yeah. And maybe he taught himself not to care, but…I think he hides who he really is because of her,” she admits with a shrug. “Which sucks. ’Cause he’s such a good guy, deep down. He just…he’s afraid, I guess.”

You hate the way your heart breaks for him. Hate the way this humanizes him. Hate the way it makes you second guess every interaction the two of you have ever had.

“Does he ever talk about her?” you ask next.

“No, never. I don’t even remember her name, to be honest. It was forever ago. Five or six years, at least.”

“Wow.”

“Mhm. As far as I know, he doesn’t date, either. I think he fucks around a bit. I mean, he’s a guy, after all,” she teases. “But he doesn’t really do anything…meaningful. Maybe he doesn’t know how anymore.”

Your stomach twists around an invisible knife. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Yeah,” she hums, digging back into her salad. “I don’t know. If he’s being rude, just tell him to fuck off. That always works for me.”

You laugh as the subject is dropped and the two of you carry on with your lunch.

But you think about it for the rest of the day, the information following you back to his office where you’re quick to find that he’s left for the afternoon.

So, you sit with this discovery as you go through your tasks. Unable to stray from the thought for very long before your throat constricts, and you feel a wave of disappointment.

You text him as you’re leaving for the evening. A simple, “Finished prepping the presentation. Hope you’re okay,” before you tuck your phone away and head home.

Hours go by without a response. Not that you really expected one, but you can’t help feeling slightly guilty for the role you played in pushing him to open up.

And no matter how out of line he was, or how justified you were in asking for his honesty, you know how hard it must be for him to be honest with you.

Especially if what Nadia said is true.

After messaging Max for a bit about your upcoming video, you decide to run yourself a bath, letting the bubbles fill the tub as you watch the water rise.

You’ve barely slipped out of your socks when your phone vibrates on the porcelain sink, making you jump some at the sudden noise.

The familiar name flashes across the screen, making your heart skip as you hesitantly hit the green button and bring the phone to your ear. “…hello?”

“You did it, didn’t you?” Mr. Styles says, but even through the static, you can hear that there’s something off.

“Did…what?” you ask hesitantly.

“You fucked him,” comes the reply. Blunt and void of any civility. “Max. You fucked him, didn’t you?”

With narrowed eyes, you turn the water off and step out of the bathroom. “I don’t believe that’s any of your concern—”

“So, yes,” he answers for you. Then, you hear him chuckle to himself. However, there’s something chilling about the way he laughs. Bitter, almost. “You’re very easy to read, Peach.”

You can feel your expression fall into one of annoyance as you lean against the wall in the hallway. “Mr. Styles—”

“Was he good?”

You glower. “Mr. Styles—”

“I already know the answer is no,” he continues. “Even your own fingers would be better, but…maybe I just wanted to hear you say he wasn’t.”

You contemplate this for only a moment before you cautiously ask, “Are you drunk?”

You can hear the subtle slur slip through the speaker, and your eyebrows raise as he snorts.

“No, I’m curious,” he retorts, but it makes your heart pound. “And I’m still a subscriber. So I want to know what to expect.”

Your stomach wrenches. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Why are you avoiding my question?”

“Mr. Styles—”

“You like to torture me, don’t you?” he interrupts, and there’s a hitch in your breath. “You always have. From the first day I met you. You were wearing that really nice dress. And your hair was up in that pretty ponytail. And you walked in like you were trying to walk into my life and ruin me.”

Your head falls back into the wall, eyes fluttering shut. “Sir—”

“And I let you,” he carries on. “I let you ruin me. I let you do the one thing I promised I’d never do, and now what? Now you’ve gone and strutted your way into somebody else’s life.”

And maybe he doesn’t know what he’s saying, but you feel this overwhelming rush of emotion, anyhow. “Mr. Styles, where are you?”

“Where would you like me to be?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Says you.”

You huff. “Mr. Styles—”

“Tell Max I said hello,” he says instead. “And then tell him I don’t mean it.”

“Mr. Styles—”

There’s some sort of loud noise on his end before the line suddenly beeps three times and the call goes dead.

And you can only stand there, flabbergasted, as you stare at your phone. Wondering what the hell just happened.

You’re frozen for a good minute or two, running through your options. He normally doesn’t reach out when he’s drinking, at least not to you, and definitely not this late.

Maybe it’s a silent cry for help or maybe he just wanted to bother you one last time.

Either way, it breeds something unnerving in your gut as you groan to yourself and head back to your room to retrieve your shoes.

You don’t imagine he’s out. He has to be at his apartment, so at least you know he’s probably safe. But you don’t know what he might do. You don’t know what that sound was, and if he’s managed to hurt himself, but you don’t think anyone will be there to help for quite a while.

You grab the key he’d given you a few months ago. It was meant only for emergencies, although you’ve never needed to use it.

Tonight, however, you decide that this is as good an excuse as any.

You call an Uber to take you to his place, the lavish apartment building smack in the middle of downtown, quite a bit away from you.

Thankfully, the traffic isn’t too bad this late at night, and you’re grateful for the quick trip as you’re brought to a stop just outside the sidewalk in under thirty minutes.

You jump out, greet the doorman, and book it for the elevator before hitting the button for his apartment at the top of the building.

It’s a good three-minute ride before you finally reach his floor, and once those doors open, your heart leaps into your throat.

Even the hallway is exquisite, and your dirty Vans squeak along the newly waxed floors as you approach his apartment, and fumble with the key.

You unlock it as slowly and quietly as you can, hoping not to startle him if he is in fact inside, and the moment the door is cracked, you call, “Mr. Styles? Are you here?”

Everything is dark as you enter. Not a single lamp to be seen, only the soft glow of the city lights outside of his many large windows, and the pale shadow of the moon cascading across the floors.

You see silhouettes of furniture, walls, and a few appliances. Enough that you manage not to trip over anything as you make your way into his living room.

And then, you see him.

The shape of his body is outlined by the window to your left. He’s sitting on the floor, back against the wall as he stares out at the tall skyscrapers before him.

Your heart sinks as you pocket the keys and approach slowly. “Mr. Styles?”

He’s still. Deathly still, in fact. As if he hasn’t even heard you. He doesn’t even bother to look over or investigate your presence.

And then, he murmurs, “You shouldn’t be here.”

Your breath hitches. “Maybe not,” you reply quietly, taking another cautious step. “But I was worried about you.”

He snorts, arms slung over his knees, a crystal glass in one hand that’s only got a few drops left. “How nice.”

“Mr. Styles,” you try again, “are you all right?”

Now close enough to catch a glimpse of his profile, you see the sweaty hair matted to his forehead. The strain in his jaw and the red rim around his eyes.

“M’fine. You can go,” he calls.

You take another step. “You didn’t sound fine—”

“Well I am, all right?” he suddenly sneers, turning to face you as you lean back. “I don’t need your fucking pity.”

“It’s not pity. It’s concern,” you correct briskly. “You’re drunk, and upset—”

“Yeah? What was your first fucking clue?”

You shoot him a look of warning as you bridge the gap and hesitantly crouch down to his level. “Why are you drinking?”

“Because I fucking can,” is his reply, his normally soft green eyes now as sharp as the edge of a sword. “Is that a problem?”

“Maybe. Do you remember calling me?”

“Of course I fucking do. But I don’t remember asking you to come here.”

“You didn’t,” you agree. “But I wanted to. Because I was worried.”

“Why? Don’t you have better things to worry about now?”

You’ve never heard him sound so insecure, and you’re reminded again of Nadia’s story as you glance over his expression. “I haven’t slept with Max.”

This is the only thing that seems to reach him, his lashes fluttering as he leans back, although his scowl remains put. “Why not?”

“We just haven’t yet. We’re still planning the video.”

“So you’re going to?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“You think so.”

“I plan to.”

He scoffs beneath a quiet breath and looks back out the window. “And you needed to come here to tell me that?”

“I came here because I wanted to make sure you were okay,” you tell him again. “And to set the record straight.”

“Why? You were right, it’s none of my fucking business.”

“It’s not, but you still seem to care.”

He snorts. “I don’t fucking care who you sleep with, Peach.”

“Sure, okay. Is that why you tried to keep me from doing it?”

“I was trying to help.”

“You’d help me a lot more if you were honest.”

“I am honest. I’m always fucking honest.”

“Not about this.”

His eyes return to yours. “I told you, you can do better. That’s my honest opinion.”

“Fine.” You take a moment to study him. “Then why did you offer to help me?”

His head drops back against the wall as he mulls this over, but his gaze never leaves you. “Because you needed the help. I knew you could make more money if you just did things a little differently, and I was right.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“What else would it be?”

Your head tilts. “Why did you agree to be in the video with me?”

“You said you didn’t have anyone else.”

“Why did you get me custom jewelry with your initials?”

His teeth begin to grit, the grasp on his glass tightening some. “What?”

“The peaches would have been fine. My initials would have been fine. But you wanted me to wear your name,” you remind him. “Why?”

“I already told you, I wanted him to know who your real partner was—”

“Yeah? Then why did you leave?”

His lips press together. “I thought you didn’t care—”

“I do now. Why?”

“I had somewhere to be—”

“Where?”

“Yes, where? Where did you have to be?”

He seems to fight himself on the answer before finally admitting, “The gym.”

You lean back, blinking quickly. “I’m sorry, you rushed out of there to go to the gym?”

“Yes.”

Now it’s your turn to scoff as you shake your head. “Wow. No, I should have assumed as much. Makes perfect sense. Clearly that was so much more important than just telling me I made you uncomfortable—”

“You didn’t,” he suddenly interjects, shooting you this look like he’s disappointed in your response. “I left because I knew I couldn’t stay.”

“You couldn’t stay? And why the fuck not?”

“Because—” He stops himself, once again clamping his jaw shut as if wrestling with the truth. Then, he drops his head, eyes finding the floor as he glares at the marble beneath. “Because I couldn’t.”

And you want to scream because you don’t know if he’ll ever be honest with you. Don’t know what to do to reach him.

“You know what I think?” you finally huff, and he looks up. “I think this is about her.”

Confused, he glances over your expression. “Her who?”

“The girl who used to work for you. Your first assistant. The one who left.”

Instantly, the atmosphere changes, his entire demeanor shifting on a dime as he presses his back into the wall and shoots you a venomous look of intimidation. “Oh you do, do you?”

“Yeah.” You hold your ground, keep your shoulders stiff. “I think you loved her. I think you were honest with her. I think you let yourself trust her, and I think…she broke that trust.”

You can tell he’s not quite sure what to do with this, furrowed brows still knitted together. “And where the fuck did you get that?”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s true, isn’t it?”

His finger taps the edge of the crystal in thought, but his contemplative expression remains. “Even if it were, what does this have to do with us?”

“Everything,” you say simply. “She broke your trust, and you chose not to get close to anyone again. But then you started helping me. And we got closer. And created a bond—created trust. And the second you realized, you ran for the hills.”

He snorts again, but he doesn’t rush to deny it.

So, you carry on. “Max coming along only made things worse for your fragile little ego. And maybe you were trying to keep it from happening again, but you did a really shitty job of it. And now here we are, sitting on your floor, saying everything but what we really mean.”

He’s angry. He’s so very angry, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly, fighting himself on what he really wants to say.

You scoot closer, gently reaching out to take the crystal glass from his hand so you can place it on the floor. Then, you rest your palm atop his arm, and meet his eye.

“Harry,” you whisper, and he sucks in a sharp breath, tensing beneath your touch. “I’m not her. And maybe that’s a good thing, maybe it’s not. But I have only ever wanted it to be you.”

He’s quiet but you have his full attention. And the intrigue in his features urges you to continue.

“Even before you told me that you watched, I imagined you,” you admit quietly. “I’ve always imagined you. Your voice, and your hands, and your face. And yeah, I didn’t mind keeping things…professional. Strictly about the content and nothing more. But…you have to know I wanted more.”

Once again, the back of his head meets the wall, as if bracing himself from your honesty.

“I wanted more,” you repeat. “And I thought you did, too. Maybe that’s why it’s been so hard, and maybe that’s why I tried to use Max to move on. But I never wanted Max. I only wanted you. I just…I wasn’t sure I could have you.”

He looks down at your hand, gaze softening when he sees the way it looks on his arm. Like he’s mesmerized by your touch.

“And I need you to tell me right now what you want,” you say softly. “I need the truth. I have to know if we’re running around in circles for no reason, or if…maybe we can get off this ride together.”

He’s silent for quite a long stretch, letting himself ponder a response as the apartment fills with a solemn quiet.

You study his face in the soft glow of the moonlight, wonderstruck by the sharp curve of his jaw in contrast to the soft curls near his cheeks.

Even now, he’s breathtaking.

Finally, he clears his throat. “Ellie.”

“What?”

“Her name,” he says, “was Ellie. And you’re right, I did trust her. But I ruined it. Not her.”

Now it’s your turn to listen as he recalls this memory to you, nodding gently for him to continue.

“She didn’t…she loved somebody that wasn’t me. That was her only fault,” he murmurs, once again staring at your hand as your thumb strokes his tan skin. “And it wasn’t even a fault. But I hated it. Because I wanted it to be me. And it was never going to be me. We both knew that.”

Slowly, his arm turns over, allowing your gentle touches to dance along the more sensitive skin.

You smile.

“I crossed so many fucking lines,” he admits quietly. “As her boss, as her friend. I pushed her away only to drag her back and try to keep her close. I suffocated her. I let myself need her in ways I shouldn’t have. She had every right to leave. In fact, she should have left sooner.”

You feel the tips of his fingers brush against you as he subtly grabs on.

“And then you,” he whispers, eyes still locked on where you’re connected. “I’d been doing so good. Didn’t let myself slip again, and then you came along, and everything was fucked. Because I knew I couldn’t do to you what I’d done to her. But I let myself think about you anyway. Even when I shouldn’t have.”

You can feel tears crawling up the back of your throat, and the wounded look on his face is like a fist to the heart.

“And for some fucking reason, I thought offering my advice would allow me to know you without ruining anything,” he sighs, tugging you a bit closer until your knees collide with his. “Which obviously didn’t work. And then I was looking for excuses to be with you. To have you. To touch you. Even though I knew better. Even though I had to know better.”

He takes a deep breath. Holds it.

“I didn’t want to lose you,” he eventually exhales. “And I got scared that the only reason you felt like you wanted more was because I somehow tricked you into it. I confused you, I manipulated the situation. It wasn’t real. And I wanted it to be real. But then Max, and I got so fucking angry, and I knew I was doing it again. And I couldn’t. I couldn’t do that to you.”

He won’t look up. He won’t meet your eye, and the hard set of his jaw makes you take hold of his other arm and squeeze it tight.

“Harry,” you whisper, but his head shakes quickly.

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” he barrels on, fingers wrapping around your elbow, keeping you close. “Because I can’t have it. I can’t have you. And you were right, I can’t be your partner anymore. I can only be your boss.”

You frown but it’s sad. “Harry—”

“Mr. Styles,” he corrects, finally shooting you a look of warning that breaks your heart.

But you aren’t deterred. Instead, you release him so you can wedge yourself between his legs and take hold of his face. “Harry,” you repeat, urgent but gentle. “This? It’s not the same.”

He struggles a bit in your grasp, tensing up as he tries to pull away. But it only lasts a second before he’s settling into your embrace, allowing you to guide his attention to you.

“It’s real,” you whisper. “It’s so fucking real. It was real even before you called me poor and badly dressed.”

This earns you your first smirk of the evening, and the butterflies that explode in your gut nearly make you dizzy.

“You’ve tried to push me away over and over. But I’m still sitting here, on your floor, begging you to talk to me.” Your thumbs delicately brush across the bags under his eyes, and he seems to nuzzle into your palms. “It’s not the same. You’re not just my boss or my investor. You’re my partner, Harry. And I can’t do this without you.”

His arms slowly slip around your middle, encouraging you onto his lap as his legs drop.

And you eagerly oblige, straddling his hips with ease as you look down at him.

“I don’t want to do this without you,” you murmur. “So don’t make me. Please.”

For a moment, you aren’t sure what he’ll do. What he’ll say or feel. He’s still somewhat tense, and far too quiet.

Then, he tugs, crashing your lips into his.

And it’s the most honest thing he’s ever done.

“Turn around.”

The strong command leaves no room for argument as you quickly spin on your heel, eager to obey.

Your ass is revealed to the camera. Bright red from the many spanks Mr. Styles has landed to it. It complements the dark black lingerie set he recently purchased for you, something you’re both rather proud of, and perhaps the main feature of this video.

You hear him hum his approval as he approaches, large hands slipping over the curves of your hips. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs before shoving you onto the bed. “Think it’s time we show them what a wet little whore you are, hm?”

You feel his finger hook into the crotch of the panties before he’s ripping them aside, allowing your swollen cunt to glisten for the lens.

You gasp as the cool air hits you, but it quickly melts into a desolate whine when you feel his touch ghost up the back of your thigh.

“Look at you,” he muses, palms pulling on your cheeks to spread you open, giving your audience a firsthand glimpse of your mess. “So fucking pathetic, aren’t you, Peach? And all I’ve done is spank you.”

“Can’t…can’t help it, Sir,” you pant, steadying yourself on your hands and knees as your eyes flutter shut. “Just want you.”

“Oh you do, do you?” He kneads your bruised flesh with admiration. “Do you think you deserve it?”

You squirm a bit as you whimper, desperate to lean back into his touch before he lands another smack to your thigh, reminding you to stay still.

“Yes,” you finally answer, chin meeting your chest. “Wanna deserve it for you.”

You hear him chuckle under his breath as he allows his touch to travel toward your dripping pussy, large digit pushing through your folds just to make you mewl.

“I bet you do,” he replies, running up and down your cunt to collect you. Tease you. “But we have a deal, don’t we, honey?”

You want to kill him and kiss him all at the same time.

“Yes, Sir.”

“We do.” He pats you again, this time gently. “Go on and grab it, all right?”

With a nod, you outstretch your shaky hand for the object sitting on the bed only a few inches in front of you.

Already tender and slightly swollen from the way he played with you earlier (casually and much too cruel), you feel a rush of excitement as you hand him the chain.

After taking hold of it, he moves to sit in front of you, allowing him better access to the front of your body as he motions for you to sit back on your ankles.

“You ready?” he asks quietly, eyes flicking between yours as he looks for your consent.

You nod. “Always.”

With that, he reaches for your exposed tits and begins preparing your nipples for the clamps.

You swallow a dozen whines and whimpers as he works them shut, the subtle ache quickly dissolving into an immeasurable type of pleasure.

And he’s smiling so big, like he’s so proud of you. Proud of the way you look, proud of the way you feel, proud of the way you obey.

It makes the yearning in-between your thighs that much worse as he travels the other end of the chain down to your clit.

Once again, he plays with you. Drags his fingers up, down, and through to make you writhe, and make sure you’re ready.

Then, with great care but devious intent, he slips the clamp along the base of the sensitive nerves and secures it.

You choke on a gasp, body stilling as the sensation becomes a bit more familiar. It’s quite thrilling. Not painful, but prominent. Taunting you with its power as you glance down at the way it holds you.

Harry leans back to study you, carefully observing every pull of your brows or hitch in your breath. “You okay, Peach?”

You nod, lip sliding between your teeth.

He frowns. “Color.”

“Green,” you say quickly, nails digging into your thighs as you release a heavy exhale. “It’s just…new.”

His expression softens as he reaches out to grasp onto your chin and squeeze once. “I know, my love. But you’ll take it for me, won’t you?”

And you say, “Yes,” with so much adoration and excitement that it returns those dimples to you.

His eyes drift toward the computer, checking the status of the livestream you assume before he leans forward and presses his lips to yours.

You know your faces aren’t in the frame, but it makes your heart pound nonetheless as he offers you a moment of his affection.

“How’s your ass?” he mumbles between kisses to your bottom lip.

You nod gently and sigh into his mouth. “Good. Sore.”

And he chuckles as he sends you a devious wink. “Good.”

With that, he stands, and begins to undo his belt as he returns to his spot behind you. He doesn’t plan to be gentle today. Not for your first live appearance, and you’re grateful for his punishing hand as it ghosts down your spine, guiding you.

It travels between your thighs, tapping them briskly as a reminder to keep them spread as you bend back over.

And once you’ve braced yourself against the mattress, you feel those long, skilled fingers nudging at you again.

“Sir,” you whisper, desperate for the friction as he keeps his touch light, merely tracing patterns along your folds while humming to himself.

“Yes, Peach?”

You swallow thickly. “Please?”

“Please?” His thumb moves up to brush over your tighter hole, and you gasp again as you await any sort of contact. “Please what?”

“Please…please touch me?”

“Touch you,” he repeats thoughtfully, as if considering it. “I don’t know. Have you disobeyed any of my rules?”

With a quick shake of your head, you glance down at the duvet beneath you, the expensive fabric soft beneath your clenched fists.

“Have you used any naughty language?” he asks, the tip of his middle finger lowering to circle through your arousal.

“No,” you breathe.

He begins to push in, leaving your other opening alone. At least for today. “Have you called me by the wrong name?”

Not aloud, you think, biting back a smirk as you murmur, “No, Sir.”

The digit travels a bit further, the feeling of him pushing past your tight walls like heroin as you reel.

“Have you taken your punishment like a good girl?” he inquires next, and you chew on the inside of your lip as you nod.

“Yes.”

And you can’t exactly see him, but you can practically hear his smirk as he suddenly adds a second finger in beside the first, just to surprise you.

“Yes,” he agrees. “You have. Been my perfect peach, haven’t you? Guess you’re showing off for them, hm? Letting them think you’re actually an obedient little cock-whore?”

And maybe you are showing off, at least a little, but it’s hard not to obey this man. He just makes it so…worth it.

“Yes,” you call again, desperate to please him. “Only for you, Sir.”

Suddenly, you feel his fist against your scalp, scraping through your roots as he furiously yanks, forcing your head up.

“Only for me,” he nearly seethes, dipping down to press his lips against your ear. “Want you to fucking say it. Every time I touch you. Every time I make you come. Want you to say it. Remind them who you really belong to.”

Apparently, having his initials glimmer from your nipples isn’t enough, but that’s more than all right with you.

You’ll happily vow your life to him as many times as he needs. Because there’s something empowering about having a man beg you to be his.

And for the first time since you’ve met him, you realize…you’re on the same ground. Equal partners. Equal power.

You and him.

One.

With that instruction, he curls, now stroking and thrusting into you with a fervent need to force you up the mountain.

“Only you,” you whisper between salacious moans for relief. “Only, Sir.”

“That’s right,” he hisses, smacking his other palm against your ass before groping at the tender skin. Soothing it and stimulating it at the same time.

The pace increases, faster and faster until you feel as though you can’t breathe. Until you’re trying to meet his rhythm by rocking back into his touch, but the hand on your hip holds you steady. Makes you patient.

“Only you.” It’s almost inaudible, released through quivering lips as you begin to slip into your first. “Only you. Only…”

He plunges in to the knuckle, beckoning you toward your release as it hits you hard. Fireworks go off behind your eyes as you keen, sweat beading around your hairline, and chest heaving.

“God, only you,” you barely manage as you fight for air. “Just you, Sir. Always.”

He takes his fingers out, allowing the world to see your come drip along the insides of your thighs. And the loss of contact makes your chest ache as you whimper and peek over your shoulder for a glimpse of his face.

He’s smug. Because of course he is, endlessly pleased with the way you’ve come undone so quickly.

Wet digits quickly outstretch for your cheeks, pushing on your lips to accentuate your already obvious pout.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he warns darkly. “You know better.”

You glance up at him with remorse and desperation, hoping your tiny hum will be enough to sway him. “M’sorry, Daddy.”

It’s the first time today you’ve used the nickname, and you watch the effect it has on him as he tightens his grip and scrapes his teeth together.

“Peach,” he grumbles, “don’t fucking test me. Not today.”

“I’m not. Promise. Just wanna feel you.”

And that’s the truth. It’s all you ever want. Want his cock, his time, his attention. Anything he’ll give you, and he knows this.

Because he wants you just as bad.

And maybe, if he had the strength, he’d punish you for this little game. He’d waste hours just making you wait for him. Tying you up, leaving you to beg, taunting you with something you can’t have.

But today, that would punish him, too. And you can see that he doesn’t have the capacity to go without you, not even for show.

So, he releases his hold on you only to land a very firm and sharp smack to your cheek. And it stings but it feels so good, forcing another groan as you lean back.

“And you will,” he finally decides, settling behind you again as he begins to tug his pants down. “Gonna feel me for days, honey. Make sure you can’t fucking sit without thinking of me.”

Just the image of you in one of those boardroom meetings, legs still bruised and clenched tightly together as you sit for hours on end makes you gasp.

He’s gotten braver recently. Normally, he’s tame. Making you rest on his lap in the privacy of his office while he absentmindedly runs circles over your clit. Answering emails as he plays with you. Like it’s just an average workday.

But now he tries to tease you in public. In meetings, at lunch, when you’re apart. Making you sit with a remote-controlled toy deep inside your cunt during a meeting with the board of directors. Changing the tempo over and over again while forcing your silence. Leaving you to squirm in your seat as you silently beg him for mercy.

Sometimes he gives it to you. Most times…he does not.

You imagine this week will be no different. Especially after today. He always gets a bit more insatiable after the two of you have posted a video together.

He’ll make you watch it in his office. His now favorite tradition. And the comments and response will encourage something in him that makes you giddy. Possessive yet proud. Like he wants to outdo himself next time. Make you come harder, longer, faster. Make everyone watching eat their fucking hearts out.

You feel the tip of his swollen cock brush down your folds, lazily rubbing against you as he alerts you of his presence.

Just the feel of him makes you breathless, back arching as you silently plead with him for more.

He won’t give it to you, at least not yet. Not until he’s had a chance to watch you soak him.

He presses his hand against it, trapping it to your cunt while gliding it through your arousal. Gentle thrusts that have you clenching around nothing until you hear him curse to himself.

“Beg me,” he calls, grasping onto your ass cheek to pull it apart, allowing him a better view. “Beg me to fuck you, Peach. Beg Daddy to make it better.”

“Please,” you comply instantly, a subtle quiver in your voice. “Please, Daddy. Need you. Need to feel you. Hurts.”

“Oh, honey,” he coos, finally circling the rim of your aching hole and pushing in only an inch just to pull back. “Bet it does. Know I’ve been teasing you all day, haven’t I?”

You whine again. “I deserved it. Always love it when you tease me.”

He chuckles under his breath, and you know you’ve made him proud. “That’s right. Know you do, my love. Because you know I just wanna make it better for you, hm?”

“I know.” You attempt to wiggle back into him, but his unrelenting grip keeps you frozen to your spot. “Always do, Sir. Always make it better.”

He slides in again, further this time, allowing your body to stretch for him. Then, he slides out, leaving you to wilt as you swallow a groan.

“And I always will,” he answers, knee knocking into your inner thigh as an instruction to spread your legs a bit further. “Just have to behave for me. Think you can do that, Peach? Think you can be good for me?”

And you’ve never wanted anything more, head nodding quickly before he finally thrusts into you with such power and dominance that it knocks the wind from your lungs.

Truth be told, you never know what you’re going to get with him. What rhythm will drive him. But you’ll take anything he offers. Because hard and slow or fast and eager…it’s perfect. Sets your nerves on fire and leaves you desperate and depraved.

The sounds of him pushing through and pulling out are sure to be captured by the microphone. You can’t see the computer, but you imagine the audience is loving it. They always seem to enjoy sounds as much as you do. And Harry’s sounds are the best.

Your quick breaths intertwine seamlessly with his unforgiving grunts. Like a melody for the soul, and you slowly slide down until your chest meets the mattress, although your ass stays up.

He seems to like this angle, nails scraping down your spine before he lands another smack to your cheek. “There she is.”

Both sets of clamps are stimulated as you’re pushed against the bed, making your eyes roll back every time he drives himself to the hilt.

The pain is delicious. Exactly what you’d needed, and just when you think it can’t get any better…he slips an arm around your stomach and forces you back up.

Instantly, his hand is on your throat, tugging your back into his chest as he settles you down on his cock.

Dominant fingertips press into the sides of your neck, playing with your airways as you gasp. And for a moment, you are nothing more than his toy. Just a body for him to use, and the idea makes you clamp down on him until he groans and nuzzles his nose into your shoulder.

But you know it’s more to him than that. Know that you’re not just this thing for him to abuse and ruin. He wants to worship you. Treat your body like the divine gift it is, and even though this display of aggression is uncouth…it’s meant for you. To make you feel good. Everything he does is always for you.

“So good, baby,” he whispers, just quiet enough that only you can hear. “Fucking love the way you feel, Peach. Always so warm for me. So wet. My perfect hole.”

You shudder, nails reaching for his arm to scratch down his skin. Desperate to be even closer to him.

His hand then drops to your chest, finding your breast and groping at it mercilessly as you cry out. The clamps are tugged, stimulating the rings, and forcing your back to arch. So many sensations are being exploited that it’s nearly impossible to think straight. Your mind is mush, focused only on one thing to keep from drowning:

Him.

“Wanna come, don’t you?” he taunts, now louder so the audience can hear. “Wanna come on my cock, so they see what I do to you?”

You nod quickly, unable to vocalize your agreement. But he doesn’t need it. He knows. Can read your body like a book, and it makes him smile into your heated skin.

“Good,” he whispers, pressing a lingering kiss to your neck before reaching down to undo the clamp around your clit. “Go.”

The moment the pressure is released, it hits you. Your toes curl, your eyes roll back, and you make so many noises, you wouldn’t be surprised if the people below Harry’s apartment can hear you.

He works you through each ripple and aftershock, perhaps hoping to send you into a third, but your body needs a moment to recharge.

And this is more than fine with him because it gives him a bit more time to watch himself disappear into you. His favorite part.

You collapse in his hold, held up only by his strong arm that’s thankfully bare, allowing you to glance down at his tattoos.

He takes his shirt off for almost every video now. He knows that nobody will be able to recognize his tattoos, but he especially knows how much you love them. Love to lick them, trace them, stare at them.

Your perfect pastime, and you think this now as you grip onto his wrist and squeeze.

He exhales into your shoulder before he’s suddenly cursing and pulling out, the sound of his slick cock slipping from your cunt making you whimper.

With a single pat to your hip, he growls, “On your back.”

You nearly throw yourself down onto the bed, finally able to face him fully as you’re met with the sight of his flushed cheeks.

He’s so beautiful when he’s turned on, and you feel nothing but grateful to be able to witness this sight firsthand. Even your audience is denied such a pleasure, and it makes it feel that much more special to you.

He pushes your legs apart and settles between your thighs, grasping onto his cock before guiding it toward your chest.

He never comes inside you on film. He claimed it was because they don’t deserve to see it, and you didn’t argue. You like the idea. Occasionally he’ll capture a short clip of the way he leaks out of your pussy, but it’s never posted. Instead saved just for the two of you to watch whenever you need.

So while you’ll miss feeling him inside of you today, you know that it’s worth it. You like that you get to keep something for just the two of you. You like this possessive side of him.

Love it, in fact.

Nodding at your breasts, he silently instructs you to grab them, to which you do, pushing them together as he brings his swollen and soaked cock closer.

Slowly, he slides between your tits, disappearing beneath the supple flesh as you both groan your approval.

He’s already seconds away from his own release, but he edges himself by fucking your tits for as long as he can. Staring wordlessly at the way he looks beside his initials on your nipples.

“Fuck, Peach,” he breathes, brows knitted together as his jaw clenches. “Like it like this, don’t you? Like it when I come like this?”

And you do, a soft sough of agreement all you can offer as you look down at the way his tip pokes through the valley you’ve created. The contrast of his pink flesh against your skin is beautiful. Artful, even. And it makes you smile, wider than you have all day.

His pace is slow, allowing you to feel the slickness paint your chest before he’s suddenly tensing, the muscles in his stomach contracting quickly.

You await his offering eagerly, practically panting as you watch him run his palm along his cock before he’s releasing all over your torso and chest.

He falls forward, bracing himself with a hand beside your head while you throw your arms around his neck to keep him close.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you whisper as he milks the last few drops. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

You feel a shiver roll across his body at your comment before he’s smashing his lips into yours, dancing his relieved sighs across your tongue.

It takes a good minute or two for you both to find your bearings, but once you have, he reaches toward the nightstand where the remote lies.

Aiming it at the camera, he clicks a couple of buttons, and the red light turns off, signaling that the livestream has ended.

Now alone in his massive bedroom, he grins down at you. “My sweet fucking girl. Did so well for me, honey.”

You bask in his praise, nuzzling your nose against his before pressing a kiss to his cheek. “That was fun. Like it when you fuck my tits.”

“Yeah?” He’s smirking again, palm now smacking against your breast just to watch it jiggle. “Good. ’Cause I don’t plan to stop.”

Your arms snake tighter around his neck until he’s forced to lay his chest against yours. “Think they liked it?”

“I know they did,” he murmurs, face disappearing into your neck as he breathes you in, sweaty or not. “They love you, Peach. You’re so good to them.”

You press your lips into his hair.

“You’re good to me, too,” he adds quietly, sliding his hand across your body until he can hold onto you. “Always so fucking good. Best thing that ever happened to me.”

A sort of flutter happens in your stomach as you squeeze him tighter. “Ditto.”

You stay there for a few minutes at least, teetering on the verge of sleep before Harry declares you need to get clean.

He scoops you up and carries you to his large bathtub, dipping you into the warm water once it’s ready and settling himself on the other side to face you.

You talk for what feels like hours, until you’re pruned, and the bubbles have disappeared. You go over the scene, go over what you think the comments will be, and even go over his schedule for the upcoming work week.

It’s weird the way you’ve managed to balance the relationship of boss and lover. You’re able to distinguish the two and create the appropriate boundaries. Making it easier to work together without driving each other nuts.

Something else you’re grateful for.

You stare at his wet abs as he talks, smiling to yourself as you admire every curve of his stomach, and every nipple he has to offer.

He splashes some water at you when he realizes before grabbing hold of your ankles and sliding your closer.

You kiss until you can’t breathe, and life feels really good.

Really fucking good.

Once you’re out and dried, you make your way back to his bedroom to make sure everything from the livestream is in order.

You scroll through a few of the responses together, making mental notes of what to do next time. And once you’re both in agreement that everything looks good, he adds it to your shared profile.

Appropriately titled,

Peaches and Cream.

I have no excuse for this or explanation, I'm just gonna blame it on the sick meds I took 🙃

I already miss them but I'm absolutely going to be doing some extras and maybe that'll make it not hurt so much 😭💞

Thank you to everyone who's read and been so kind and supportive!!! You have my entire heart forever and ever, I cannot tell you how appreciative I am 🥹♥️ This has been so fun!!

Peaches and Cream forever!!

Previous Part:

~ Four to Go*

~ Full One for the Money Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Credit for the incredible and perfectly peachy dividers to @firefly-graphics!!

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @kathb59 @iamjustaholeforyousir @buckyssbestgirl @harrystylesfan2686 @cherryluvhobi @narry-heart @daphnesutton @uniquesexything @amateurduck @ilovec0lbybr0ck @winterrays @milfrrynation @definegirlfriendsx @allthelovehes @amiets2 @likeapplejuicenpeach @nega-omega @sucker-4-angst @hsgucci94 @gills-lounge @kennedy-brooke @avasversion @stylesfever @saturnheartz @finelinesss

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bluecollarmcandtf · 5 months

Text

"Dude, I possessed your professor...

The hairs on your neck prick up as you notice the glassy look in Dr. Bradley's eyes. It was the trademark sign that your old pal, Jimmy, was back from the dead to haunt you. Obviously, your professor was his next host...

"...holy crap! Look at this idiot! I know he's real booksmart or whatever, but he can't be that clever with a jocked up body like this! I'm gonna strip him down and see what he's hiding under this fancy shirt. I know you wanna see your teacher naked, right?"

You stare at the uncharacteristically goofy grin on your professor's face as he oggles his own body. Back when he was alive, Jimmy was the most immature and gayest guy you'd ever met. It feels so wrong to see him wearing the school's most renowned researcher like a costume! Dr. Bradley would be more mortified by behaving this way than by seeing actual paranormal activity.

"Come on man," your old friend speaks with the doctor's sonorous tone, "If I'm a ghost, I at least wanna enjoy the perks. And when else are you gonna get the chance to screw with this straight tight-ass?"

You stare at his body as he lounges back on a desk. It creaks under the weight of the man's hefty muscles. God, his bare chest is practically begging for your attention!

"Come on, bro. Screw me in your professor's body," Dr. Bradley -no, Jimmy- flashes a wicked smile.

Before you can decline, Jimmy assertively throws up one of the man's strong hands, "Maybe I can make this easier on you, dude. I'll raise your grade if you spank me a few times to get started. Hell, if you leave his ass red, I'll even send an email to the dean about how you deserve another scholarship!"

It's time to put an end to this, you think. Jimmy's talking about playing around with this man's career, and you really don't want to get him or yourself in any trouble.

"Alright, then a new tactic," Jimmy sneers, employing the lower, more commanding register of Dr. Bradley's voice, "Fuck him up the ass, or I'll change your grade to an F. We can do it right here, on his desk..."

You stare at your professor's glazed over eyes and his drooling grin. Jimmy wouldn't actually blackmail you, right? This has to be just another one of his careless antics.

"Get up here," Dr. Bradley grins at you, "I want my favorite student to do whatever he wants with my hot-teacher body!"

You shake your head one final time, but you can already feel your defenses breaking down. Exploring your possessed professor is starting to sound more and more like a good idea.

"You know I've been practicing my ghost skills, man?," he continues, "I can jump into these idiots and stay for up to seven days before I need to jump out and stretch my legs again. That means I can be Professor Big-Butt all week!"

"Maybe I'll kick out his wife and kids so you can come over and play house with me. Imagine your professor waking you up ever morning with his mouth on your pole. Imagine him under the dining table slobbering over your feet while you enjoy the dinner he prepared. Dude, imagine hitting a gay bar with this professional stud as your obedient muscle-slut and pimping him out to every guy who walks in. Bro, I'm so down to do whatever you want to see him do!"

You stare at Dr. Bradley in awe, precum soaking into your shorts. Once again, Jimmy's imagination has you drooling with desire. You can't help but squeak out an affirmative response.

"Hell yeah, man!" the professor's voice is unrecognizable with Jimmy's ecstatic glee.

"Now hop up here and destroy this guy's ass! Don't forget; I know about your kink for degrading guys so I want you to really humiliate me!"

In a daze, you unbuckle your belt and climb up behind your professor. A part of you knows this is wrong, but that part of you is buried somewhere deep beneath your primal lust. If Jimmy wants you to degrade and humiliate him, who were you to say no? Besides, you couldn't let Dr. Bradley -Jimmy- give you an F!

"I knew you were my favorite student for a reason," your ghostly friend says, imitating the doctor's direct and authoritative demeanor, "You're more of a man than I could ever be. I knew it from the first time I saw you in class. We locked eyes, and I just knew; all of my achievements, all of my time spent in the gym, everything I had once been proud of; all meant nothing compared to you."

Hearing the professor's heartfelt manifesto was more than enough to get you into the mood. They might not actually be his words, but they were coming from his mouth, and it was more than enough to get you on Jimmy's side. Ideas for using and abusing your tenured professor were already racing across your mind, and thanks to Jimmy, Dr. Bradley is a willing subject.

This next week is going to be a good one...

#gay possession #humiliation kink #gay ai art #gay mind control #servant

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marie-swriting · 8 months

Text

The Slut Of Hawkins - Steve Harrington [1/2]

Emails I Can't Send Masterlist

Stranger Things Masterlist

Part two

Part one - two (French version)

Summary : You're paying for the consequences of dating Steve Harrington.

Warnings : italics are for flashbacks, Slutshaming, school bullying (reader getting bullied) (talk to someone if you're being bullied!), implied sex, Steve is a bit of a coward, bad relationship with parents, angst, sad ending, fighting.

Word count : 3.5k

Song inspiration : Because I Liked A Boy by Sabrina Carpenter

The laughs were filling the fresh air of the early night. Laying on your backyard trampoline, you were cuddling against Steve. You had been getting closer recently and you had to admit, it made you feel good to have someone to talk to, especially when your parents weren’t there - which was pretty often, that night was another proof.

Steve held you a bit tighter in his arms while you were talking about your favourite singers. You had said some names like Madonna, Bowie though, it was the mention of The Beatles that caught his attention.

“The album Help! is definitely my favourite.” Steve informed you.

“Same for me, I love all of the songs but You’re Going To Lose That Girl and It’s Only Love have a special place in my heart.” you said whilst Steve looked away. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, it’s just that It’s Only Love was our song, to me and Nancy.”

“You really loved her, didn’t you?”

“She was my first love. Unfortunately, it ended pretty badly. It became complicated after her best friend Barbara disappeared. Besides, I have to admit, I was at fault, too but I’m trying to be better.”

“I’m sure you will.” you affirmed hugging him a bit more against you. “You’re not the same Steve you used to be. We wouldn’t be here, otherwise. You’re a good person, Steve, don’t doubt it for a second.”

“Thanks for what you just said.” Steve smiled at you.

“Anyway, what do you think of I Need You?”

“Not really my favourite.”

“Steve Harrington, I am appalled! How dare you say this kind of stuff?” you exclaim, faking shock.

“You asked for my opinion.”

“And you were supposed to agree with me.”

“I don’t like it, it’s not my fault.”

“You just don’t get this song. You’ll see, you’ll be a fan of it one day, I’ll make sure of it.” you stated looking at him right in the eyes.

“I’m dying to see that.”

Your lips were only a few inches away. You didn’t dare to make the first step, even if you were dying to, you were too afraid to have read too much in between the lines. You liked Steve a lot, but you weren’t sure he wanted the same thing. Steve looked at you with stars and tenderness in his eyes, yours were quite similar. You both were waiting to see which one would bend first. Steve was the one who ended up breaking the inches by pressing his lips against yours. Your lips were moving slowly, taking in this innocent moment of the beginning of your relationship.

Now, the innocence is gone. Once you close your locker door, the word “slut” is written in big letters, reminding you of the price you had to pay for this moment. Who knew cuddling on trampolines could be so reckless?

Far away, Steve is watching you. However, the second you turn your head toward him, he looks down and goes in the opposite direction. It’s been the same thing for a month. You are called names and Steve turns a blind eye. You are accused of being a homewrecker and Steve receives sympathy for the pain you supposedly caused him.

During the day, you keep your head low, not wanting to draw more attention to you. Unfortunately, the insults just like the degrading pieces of paper keep coming your way. The only moment of peace you have is during lunchtime.

At first, you hid in the bathroom then you ended up running into some girls who made you understand they weren’t on your side so you went to find a safe place in the janitor closet. At least, no one can bother you there. You don’t like the way you accepted the bullying however every time you tried to explain the situation, no one listened to you. So, now, you don’t say anything and you let people tell you who you are, hoping this story will end soon.

In the afternoon, you have chemistry. As you got used to the past month, you sit at the end of the class, wanting to be far away from your classmates' judging look. You do your best to stay focused on the lesson but you have to admit since the beginning of the rumours, your grades have been falling. You keep your energy to survive the comments so you don’t have enough of it to keep your grades high.

While you finish writing what Mr. Kaminski just said, he announces you’ll work in pairs. Right away, your stomach twists and you want to throw up. You can’t work in pairs. You’ve never been a fan of group projects however now you hate it; it’s an open door to being called names nonstop for a whole hour. The teacher informs he’s already made the groups before saying them out loud. Like a convicted person, you wait for him to say your name. You’re part of the last group and you’re with Tucker Walker. At the mention of his name, you want to die. He’s part of the basketball team and he’s entitled. You don’t like him. You try to negotiate with your teacher to work alone but he insists.

“Come here, Y/L/N, I’m not gonna eat you.” Tucker laughs.

Reluctantly, you gather your stuff and go to his desk. You put as much distance as possible, wanting to avoid new rumours.

“I’m going to do the whole exercise and I’ll put your name on the sheet like this, you’ll have nothing to do.” you announce while starting to read what you have to do.

“Who said I didn’t want to work with you?”

“I don’t want to work with you.” you specify. “Now, do something else and let me work.”

“On the contrary, I’m sure I can be useful.” he contradicts, putting his hand on your knee.

“Take your hand off.” you say through gritting teeth.

“What?”

“Your hand. I don’t like you and if I’m not mistaken, you’re with someone.”

“It didn’t stop you with Harrington.” he says before leaning in. “You can meet me behind school later.”

“No.”

“You don’t have to play hard-to-get because we’re in class.”

“I’m not playing hard-to-get, I just don’t like you.” you repeat, trying to stay calm.

“That's what you say now.”

By some luck, Tucker takes his hand off and lets you work. You’re surprised to see him give up so easily. You know it’s hiding something else, from now on, you have to avoid him.

You finish the work sheet the same second the bell rings at the end of the class. You pack your stuff quickly and give the sheet to your teacher before leaving the room. Tucker doesn’t follow, allowing you to sigh in relief.

Walking by your locker, you discover the insult is gone. It’s one of the positive things with the janitor, he always erases the insults right away. Though, no matter how many times he erases them, he’s never reported it to the principal, leaving you on your own with the high schooler venom.

The moment you leave school, you walk to your car when you get stopped in your tracks. In front of you, there are four girls, Jessica - Tucker’s girlfriend - included. You try to not show anything, mentally preparing yourself for what she’s going to tell you.

“What makes you think you can hit on Tucker, my boyfriend?” she asks drily, “Being his chemistry partner and telling him to meet you behind school? That’s where you were going, weren’t you? He’s not coming. Unlike Steve, he won’t let the slut of Hawkins destroy our relationship.” Jessica affirms, you’re about to answer when she beats you to it. “Don’t even try to deny it, Tucker told me and Sarah heard you!”

“Well, she can’t hear correctly then and your boyfriend is lying. Tucker is the one who hit on me and I stopped him. He put his hand on my knee and told me to meet him behind school.” you retort, annoyed.

“You think I’m gonna believe you over my boyfriend and my best friend?”

“I know you’re not going to believe me. It’s so much easier to believe your boyfriend who tells you what you want to hear rather than the girl who shows you the true colour of your boyfriend. Don’t be too disappointed the day you’ll discover he’s cheated on you, if he hasn’t done it already.” you state with a fake smile.

“Take that back.”

“Why ? Everyone knows he’s a cheater.”

“He’s different with me.” Jessica insists and you shake your head.

“That's what he wants you to believe but the truth is, he’s sleeping around while keeping you under his hat.”

The sound of the slap resonates in the school parking lot. You look at Jessica with eyes wide open whilst you’re touching your cheek. For you, that’s your last straw, you answer to her attack by pulling at her hair. Jessica’s scream alerts the adults around while her friends try to separate you two. You keep giving her a piece of your mind when two arms wrap themselves around your body and gets you away from Jessica. Being separated doesn’t stop both of you from insulting one another and trying to go for the throat again until Mister Jenkins arrives.

“That’s enough! What is going on here?”

“She attacked me!” Jessica lies, pointing at you.

“What? You’re the one who slapped me first.”

“She’s lying, we saw her, sir!” a friend of Jessica adds.

“They’re lying, Jessica did hit her first.”

Looking behind you, you discover the one who is holding you back and who is defending you is none other than Eddie Munson. You didn’t even see he was around and you certainly didn’t expect him to defend you.

“Are you seriously going to believe what Munson is saying?” Jessica questions, faking tears. “He’s always against us! He’d say anything to get us in trouble. I’m the victim here-”

“You’re talking nonsense, you-” you cut her off before Jenkins gets your attention back.

“Enough! I have enough. Go to the principal, now!”

And that’s how you end up in Mister Higgins’ office for the first time. You can’t believe the situation got this bad. The worst part isn’t listening to the disapproving speech of the headmaster, it’s actually witnessing your mom’s disappointment beside you as he speaks.

While the principal is explaining to your mom and Jessica’s mom what happened, you look at your feet, holding back tears of anger. Once he’s done talking, Higgins catches your and Jessica’s attention.

“Do you have anything to add?”

“I didn’t attack her first.” you insist.

“Everybody saw you!” Jessica retorts.

“You’re the one who accused me of stealing your boyfriend. I did nothing wrong.”

“Yeah, just like you didn’t break Nancy and Steve’s relationship.”

“Sir,” you start, trying to keep a calm voice, “I’ve been receiving insults for more than a month now from everyone including Jessica. She called me a slut then she slapped me when I told her her boyfriend was cheating on her. Eddie Munson saw it, he told Mister Jenkins.”

“Munson, the one leading a cult? What a reliable source!” Jessica’s mother states, rolling her eyes.

“Madam, please.” Mr. Higgins reprimands. “One witness against Jessica’s three friends doesn’t bring a lot to the table.”

“So you’re not even going to do something about the harassment I’ve been receiving?”

“Y/N.” your mom says drily.

“I’ve never heard anything about people being mean to you. However, your grades haven’t been going down for some reason.”

“If you cared a bit more about your student, maybe you’d know why.”

“Y/N, enough!” your mom orders you before turning to Mister Higgins. “I apologise. I guess Y/N will be punished?”

“Indeed, we can’t tolerate this kind of behaviour. Technically, this kind of situation can lead to expulsion though considering Y/N has always been a good student - until now -, we’ll just say she’s going through a bad phase. Y/N will have a month of detention and you will be doing an assignment on bullying.”

Before you can protest, your mom glares at you. You stay silent while your mom apologies once again for your behaviour. Your mom’s grip on your arm forces you to stand up and to leave the office. She doesn’t say anything until you arrive at your car where she orders you to get home right away.

Once you’re home, your mom informs you you’re not allowed to drive your car therefore, you have to take the bus to go to school before informing you to stay in your room until your father arrives.

The second you close the door, you finally let your tears of anger stream down your face. You’re frustrated by the whole situation and you have never felt this alone before. You lay down on your bed rolled up in a ball, searching for some comfort. As you search for that much-needed comfort, your mind takes you back to a time in your life when you had it without needing to make any effort.

At one point, you had this comfort with you. When everything was still going great, it wasn’t rare for Steve to come to your place and put on a smile on your face.

You had been a couple for three months and no one knew about your relationship. You preferred to not say anything, wanting to protect what you had. Thanks to your relationship, you both felt less alone, you finally felt like someone cared about you, that was why you felt so good with him. Therefore, you would see each other when your parents weren’t home. As you didn’t want to stay alone for another night, you had invited Steve to come. Knowing he was in the same situation, Steve had rang at your door thirty minutes later.

Laying on your bed, you were enjoying each other’s presence after your first intimate moment you had just shared. Steve had his arms wrapped around your hips, pressing your back against his torso.

“You know,” Steve started, whispering in your ear, “maybe you’re too late to be my first love, but you’ll always be my favourite. I like what we have.”

“Me too. I like you, Steve, a lot.” you told him, turning around to look at him.

“I like you a lot, too.” he replied, tenderly kissing you.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the harsh voice of your father ordering you to come downstairs. You fastly wipe the tears away from your cheeks and prepare yourself for what your parents are about to tell you. While you’re walking down the stairs, your father makes a sign to go to the kitchen. You sit whilst your parents stay on their feet on the other side of the table, a severe expression on their faces.

“Is it true what your mother told me? You’re getting into fights now?” your dad says, angry.

“I was only defending myself, Jessica attacked me first.”

“Why would she attack you? I know her dad, she’s a nice girl.”

“She called me a slut and she accused me of stealing her boyfriend when I didn’t do anything.”

“Why does she say you did then?” your mom questions, annoyed.

“Because she’s against me like everyone else in this school!”

“Lower your tone, young lady.” your father orders.

“It’s about what she said about Steve and Nancy, isn’t it?” your mother wants to know with accusing eyes.

“Yes, they accuse me of breaking their relationship when it’s not the truth.”

“Because you never did anything with Steve, didn’t you?”

“How do-” you start, shocked to discover she knows.

“It’s a small town and you really thought the neighbours wouldn’t see you sneaking in a boy in our own house?”

“You sneaked in a boy?” your father angers.

“And according to Miss Johnson, it went on for several months,” your mom specifies, “aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”

At this sentence, the tiny bit of hope you still had about your parents disappears. You can’t believe your own mother is against you. You’re getting used to the reputation people gave you but hearing your own mother implying you’re less than good because of your relationship is the final blow. You can’t understand how liking a boy could destroy everything.

“Steve and I got together after he broke up with Nancy, I almost wasn’t talking to him when he was still dating her. Steve was my boyfriend and we did nothing wrong!” you defend yourself, feeling the tears coming.

“Of course and you did nothing wrong when you attacked this poor Jessica.”

“Poor Jessica? She insulted me and hit me. I did nothing. Why don’t you want to believe me? I’m your own daughter and yet, you’d rather believe Jessica than me.”

“The facts are here!” Your father yells. “Besides, we should have reacted a long time ago, have you seen your grades? Do you really think you’re going to pass your year like this?”

“My grades are getting worse because I’m going through a living hell at school.”

“Stop playing the victim! We have enough of your behaviour. You have to do better and quickly. Go to your room right now! And don’t forget to apologise to Jessica.”

Tired of screaming in the void, you don’t answer your mother’s order and run to your room. Mad, you slam the door behind you. Normally, you’d be scared to hear more reproaches however at this moment, it’s the least of your concerns.

You throw yourself on your bed and you hold back a scream of frustration. You can’t understand why your own parents don’t have your back. They didn’t even try to listen to you, they only blame you some more. You know it’s stupid yet a part of you was hoping they would understand. You were wrong, no one is on your side; you didn’t think it possible, yet, you feel even more alone.

If you thought you already were the public enemy, the second you get back to school the following day, you realise it’s worse. Everyone is staring at you, you’re called even more names just like the whisperings got worse. You’re being even more discreet than usual - if it’s possible - wanting to keep to yourself.

In hindsight, you tell yourself you wouldn’t recommend dating boys with exes, it’s not worth all the pain and all the bullying that comes with it, in particular if the boy in question ignores you.

When you go to your last class of the day, you wish you could say you’re finally about to breathe but you still have detention. You have to stay at school a few more hours.

Sitting at your usual seat in your history class, you put your notebook on your desk. Your eyes land on the last page you wrote until they fall on the inscription carved on the desk: “the slut of Hawkins = Y/N.” It’s not the first time you see those words, it’s actually on this very table you discovered your life was about to change before you could do something about it. Despite the time, those words still feel like a knife in your chest. You distinctly remember the moment where everything fell apart.

You were behind the school building with Steve. You had been together for four months but contrary to the first three, it wasn’t going on so well between you two. You didn’t get along anymore. No matter your effort to hold him close, it was always ending in an argument. The main reason for it was that you were more invested in this relationship than Steve. You had noticed this the moment you had tried to get closer to him at school.

“I’m not asking for a lot, Steve! I’m not asking to make out with you in front of everyone, I just want to, at least, be able to talk with you without you ignoring me. I’m your girlfriend and yet, it looks like you don’t know me.” you pleaded, mad and desperate.

“You said you wanted to keep our relationship for us.” Steve retorted, avoiding your eyes.

“That was before it became more serious between us. I like you and I want to say you’re my boyfriend.”

“I know but you know that with Nancy-”

“What are you bringing her into this? She moved on, unlike you! She’s with Jonathan, I don’t think she cares if you’re dating again. Why are you searching for an excuse? I thought you liked me, too.”

“It’s true.”

“Really? It doesn’t look like it!” you said, outraged. “I feel like I’m alone in this relationship. Everytime I take a step towards you, you push me away. I’m getting tired of it. I don’t even know why I even try to save our relationship when it’s clear you don’t care.” you finished, going inside the building.

“Y/N, wait-” he tried to hold you back.

“No, we’re done, Steve!”

That day, you ended your relationship with Steve, signing at the same time the end of your peaceful life in high school. While you were arguing, someone had heard you and had twisted the whole story. Before you could react, the rumours had started to fly a few days later at school that you had ruined the relationship with Nancy and Steve by seducing him. There was nothing you could do to correct the rumours. Just because you liked a boy, you got judged as a homewrecked and you had to accept your sentence.

Emails I Can't Send Masterlist

Stranger Things Masterlist

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daceydeath · 4 months

Text

A Work Proposal - Intermission

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader Word Count: 5.1k Genre: Smut, Angst Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Swearing, Conflict, Explicit Activities

You had been working with Stray Kids for a while now and after a long day at work turns into a very unexpected but intriguing proposal. Will this change your world or end your career.

You had been back in Korea for a few months now, the tour had finally ended and you were thrilled to sleep in your own bed for an extended period of time again. Although you weren't always alone in your bed these days, the kids now had a tendency to text you and either show up with dinner or just arrive with wine and end up staying the night. But as recording was due to start you saw them less giving you time to catch up on your actual job of working for them in a staff sense.

Walking into the JYP building you were already checking your emails on your phone, new albums meant new promotions and new promotions meant a world of organization. Sitting yourself at your desk and putting through your order from the usual coffee place you had about 40 minutes before you had to be in the dance studio of the Stray Kids managers meeting which was something that you had not missed while being away on the tour. Getting your notes in order you started setting up meetings with the creative teams for their inputs on what the themes would be for not only the album but the music videos, and comebacks. You needed to have at least a skeleton of a plan that you could flesh out later. The drinks order arrived at reception and you went down to collect it before making your way to the dance studio where you knew the members and managers would be.

"Morning Minho" you greeted him softly while he opened and held the door for you then took one of the trays of drinks to help out.

"Hi kitten" he almost whispered, his eyes flicking to your lips quickly.

"Coffee" Hyunjin groaned groggily from where he was laying on the floor rolling onto his side to grin at you making you shake your head already feeling the start of exasperation leaking into your mood, if they hadn't slept then they would potentially start acting like fools.

"Morning guys, not much sleep I'm guessing" you raised your eyebrows sighing through your nose.

"Nah we're good, Hyunjin is just pouty this morning" Chan teased making Hyunjin roll his eyes dramatically and flop down flat on the floor again.

"Do I need to know?" you asked slowly, giving Chan then Han their drinks before you looked around for Felix.

"You know he gets grumpy if he gets pulled away from his art before he’s ready" Han grinned toothily as a hat came flying past your vision towards him.

"Of course" you muttered, handing Felix his coffee watching his eyes light up.

"Thank you" he piped in looking around to see if there were any other staff around but realized you were the only one with them currently "Thank you Jagi".

"You're welcome Lixie" you cooed taking the cup holder back over to the counter so you could get out the tablet and your phone for when the meeting started.

"You look pretty today Angel" Jeongin added, looking you up and down carefully "Is that?...".

"The top you bought me? Yes" you nodded watching the corners of his lips quirk up making you feel the urge to tease the younger man. "I'm pretty sure I only ever look good because you treat my wardrobe like I'm a doll you can dress up whenever you like Innie".

"Hush you love it" Minho muttered, smacking you on the arse as he went to sit down.

"So recording has been going for a few days right?" You looked over to Chan for his affirmation "Do you have ideas for which song you are wanting for the comeback track?".

"Yes and no" Changbin sighed heavily. "We have another session today which might change it but it depends how it goes".

"That is fine, I just will have to start meeting with the ideas people about concepts for your album and comebacks so when you have a decision just let me know" you explained easily.

"You are already working too hard if you are up to concepts" Chan scolded lightly.

"I promise I'm not, I just like to be prepared. After all you still need to do your half of the deal and record it all" you countered winking at him for good measure and making him flush slightly.

"Are you coming to the recording studio today?" Felix asked hopefully while moving to lay on Hyunjin's legs, who was still frowning lightly.

"Probably why did you need me to do something else instead?" you furrowed your brows looking down at your tablet to pull up an email that just arrived in your inbox about several other managers being needed for other meetings leaving you with the brunt of the actual in person work for the near future.

"No, we love it if you're there" he looked at you quickly giving you his best puppy eyes.

"Well considering that I'm the only one in for the rest of the day due to meetings, yes I am coming to the studio today" you half smiled.

Recording had been running smoothly, the bts filming of the recording wasn’t happening, so you had the luxury of being able to be slightly less guarded as the process unfolded around you outside of the boys of Versachoi was in today and with him in headphones you could get away with small touches and glances. With Han coaching Jeongin and Seungmin through what he wanted the vocals on the track to sound like you sat sandwiched between Felix and Minho neither being able to keep their hands off of you. Felix was cuddled against your side with his head on your shoulder while Minho slung one of his legs over yours while one of his hands played with your hair. Neither said much, just grumbling if you needed to move or speak to the others, everytime Chan spun his chair to face you asking your opinion on how it sounded or about their schedules a knowing look would cross his face leaving you with a sense of warmth in your chest. Your phone rang and you extracted yourself for Felix’s grip and Minho’s legs moving towards the door to answer your phone.

When you stepped into the hallway you continued watching the kids through the viewing window of the studio door. You had not missed the look Versachoi gave you as you crossed the room and it made you feel a strange uneasiness creep into your stomach. You dealt easily with the few issues in rescheduling a TV taping that the kids were meant to be attending but had been changed at the last moment, moving things for the following week to accommodate the station. Continuing to type away on another email you heard the door open from your place leaning against the wall opposite it but not looking up you were surprised when it wasn’t one of the kids voices that spoke to you.

“Chan says you work too much” Choi chuckled, stepping aside and leaning against the wall out so he was no longer visible from the studio.

“That is very much the pot calling the kettle” you smiled politely finishing your email and sending it.

“Look this might be a strange question but, are you involved with Chan?” he asked suddenly, flustering you to the point you almost dropped your phone.

“I’m sorry what?” you blinked at him, perplexed as to where that would even come from, you and he had probably had four conversations in all the time you had workday for JYPE and one of them was happening currently. Most of the interactions between him and Stray Kids was with the 3Racha team and you were never present so he was almost a stranger to you.

“That wasn’t polite” he admitted, looking away from you for a moment “You just seem a lot closer than just an artist and manager that's all”.

“I am not involved with Chan, I would consider him a close friend as we work so closely and I have a great deal of respect for him, but nothing more than that” you explained hoping this was all just a misunderstanding and that you would be able to talk your way out of it.

“Hyunjin told me you weren’t with him but I wasn’t sure if he was just saying that or not” Choi nodded, still not moving from his position beside the door.

“Hyunjin was telling the truth” you continued moving to step back into the studio.

“Well if you're single maybe we could grab dinner sometime, or just a drink if your schedule is tight” he smiled flirtatiously before making his way down the hallway leaving you to walk back into the studio still feeling an odd sense of trepidation.

“You ok pretty girl?” Han asked looking at you with concern “You look pale”.

“Um, yeah, Choi just asked me out since I’m not seeing Chan” you mumbled moving to sit back on the couch.

“Well you aren’t ‘just’ seeing Chan” Felix conceded, wrapping his arms around you again.

“He said he had asked Hyunjin who told him I was single” you swallowed looking at the fluffy blond hair spilling over your shoulder from where he had leant his head.

“But you aren’t single” Seungmin continued looking from you to Hyunjin and back again.

“It wouldn’t matter, I'm not interested in Choi regardless” you shrugged “He’s nice but I don’t actually know him”.

Chan frowned, turning back to the sound board and the others all seemed to be happy to go back to their previous activities for a few minutes until you were rejoined by Versachoi and your phone rang again. Once again stepping outside of the studio you were informed that a couple of meetings had been canceled so you would be relieved from studio duty by another one of the managers who was on his way, you would then have your break and after you had eaten your lunch you were needed to meet with the promotions department to go over idea to do with photocards and album editions for this next release. Reentering the studio the feeling in the room had definitely changed it now had an undercurrent of disquiet that you didn’t really want to deal with.

“I didn’t say anything wrong, it’s the truth, that’s exactly what it is” Hyunjin snapped defensively.

“Man, you have to think about this logically” Seungmin rolled his eyes as Chan pinched the bridge of his nose.

“It isn’t just your decision though it is?” Felix soothed softly, his hand squeezing his shoulder trying to calm the taller boy.

“Is everything alright?” you tilted your head after you closed the door quietly.

“Yeah, just a few lyric issues” Changbin huffed.

“I’m heading out for lunch and one of the others will be in with you for the rest of the day” you smiled tightly “If you need me just call I’m going to be with promotions so it’s not super important if something comes up down here”.

After sitting in a cafe down the street to have another, very, strong coffee and something to eat you made your way back to your desk to prepare for the promotions team, you had to go over which music shows they would make their comeback on and how many weeks they would be promoting. It was always a careful balance to give them enough air time to get the best sales and support but not so much that you oversaturated the audience and annoyed them or exhausted anyone to the point of injury. Your phone had stayed silent except for a text from Chan saying that he would like to speak to you later about the Hyunjin thing which you could understand.

Your afternoon wasn’t that productive, your mind drifting anytime you were uninterested in your work back to the look on Chan’s face and how annoyed he looked and the flippant way Hyunjin had ignored it. Something felt off but not in the way that you thought there was some disaster but more in the way that there must have been something wrong whether it be that he was still irritated from not being able to finish the art he had been working on or he was frustrated with the recording he had done so far for the album. But now that it was almost time for you to finish with your day you made your way to Chan’s studio to speak with him like he had asked you to earlier. Knocking you waited for him to let you in, your smile dropping when you took in the serious look on his face.

“Channie, what’s wrong?” you inquired sitting on the couch as he took a seat on his office chair by his desk.

“A few of us have had a few conversations this arvo” he started scratching the back of his neck “Obviously Hyunjin told Choi you were single but the rest of us don't see it that way which we realized might be a problem for you”.

“Alright, how do you see this situation then?” you countered watching his face flush slightly.

“It’s, um, a bit embarrassing actually” Chan mumbled “The agreements have always been short lived so it was exactly that a short term thing, everyone involved is single and consenting and then it ends when it ends” he explained and you nodded along remembering the conversations you had, had with him and that others regarding what was going to be expected from you and what you could expect from them. “But this agreement with you is not like the others so some of us, including myself, think of you as ours. Others think of this as a situationship, there are feelings involved but it's not definitely a dating thing and Hyunjin at least says he views you as though you are both single and consenting in a friends with benefit type relationship”.

“How much of a problem have I created?” you asked apologetically after a few moments of silence.

“You haven’t done anything” Chan assured you, smiling crookedly “It just seems some of us have caught way more feelings than the others”.

“So how does this work out then?” you sighed pragmatically, trying to keep your heart in check as much as you could “do you all need to sit down and talk it out about what you each want, or more importantly need?”.

“I think we probably do need to talk about this as a group but also once we figure this out have another conversation with you, even if it mean changing the terms of this agreement” Chan nodded seriously this crease between his brows making you feel terrible for lumping an extra helping of stress on his already burdened shoulders. You stood from the couch to move closer from him letting him decide if he was going to move his gaze to you or not. He slowly lifted his head a sad smile slipping across his handsome face, you leaned in just as slowly your lips meeting his in a far softer and more loving kiss than you had ever shared with Chan, or any of the others, as though he was reassuring you that no matter what his feelings were decided on. Leaving his studio you made your way back out to your desk to collect your things to make your way home. You guessed you also had a lot you needed to think over before the time came.

Your phone buzzing in your pocket brought you swiftly from your thoughts as back to the present Hyunjin’s name appearing in the bubble at the top of the screen, opening the message he asked if he was able to come see you this evening so you typed back a quick yes before tucking your phone back into your bag and waiting for your station to come into view. Hyunjin was waiting for you when you got to your apartment building sitting on the wall of the walkway to the entryway door dressed in a large hoodie, cap and face mask. He would have been totally anonymous to anyone else but you knew him so well that you could recognize him from his slouched posture.

“I wasn’t expecting you so soon” you admitted catching his attention and making him look up at you.

“I’m sorry, I can come back later” he sighed, almost sadly something indistinguishable swirling in his eyes.

“Don’t be silly Hyune come up” you chuckled letting him take your hand in his and intertwine your fingers together as you made your way inside together and up to your apartment. The elevator ride to your floor was silent making you worry slightly Hyunjin was always so soft and sweet with you, except when he was fucking you into the matress, so this was a distinct change for him. Ideas began popping into your head. Maybe the recording process was stressing him out, maybe he was feeling guilty about saying you were single or perhaps he had something he was hiding from you. Letting you and him into the apartment you slipped off your shoes and walked into your kitchen to turn on the kettle.

“Make yourself at home Hyunjin, I’m just going to change” you smiled watching as he pulled out a couple of mugs before making his way to the couch and flopping down on it. You pulled on some sweats and a large shirt that one of the boys had left behind wandering back into the lounge to see that he hadn’t moved his head still leaning back against the headrest with his eyes closed.

“Do you want some tea?” you asked, walking into the kitchen and making yourself some, when he didn’t answer you made him a cup too thinking you could just pour it out if he didn’t want it. You placed his mug on the table and sat at the other end of the couch waiting for him to speak, your hot cup cradled in your hand so that you could sip it when it cooled slightly. You waited sipping silently watching him breathing peacefully until you began to think he had fallen asleep.

“I need to talk to you about something” he finally said so quietly it was almost inaudible, his face looking almost grave for a moment.

“What happened Hyunjin?” you questioned wondering if there was an entirely separate issue that you were not aware of outside of what had happened at recording earlier in the day.

“I need to tell you something, I don’t want you to be angry or upset but I have to tell you I can’t hide it anymore” he almost pleaded with his eyes wide.

“Of course, you know you can always talk to me Hyunjin” you conceded, watching him intently now, you could notice the bluish purple hue that lingered below his eyes indicating it had been at least a few nights that he had not managed to get enough sleep.

“I want to stop the agreement” he blurted out, surprising you with how loud his voice was. “I can’t keep doing this, I can’t keep telling myself you are mine when you aren’t, I want more than just this anymore and I can’t keep hurting myself anymore”. Silence surrounded you, suffocating you slowly as Hyunjin’s eyes filled with the same tears you could feel burning within your own.

“I understand Hyune” you shuddered “I never meant to hurt you”. He finally made eye contact with you pain etched so clearly on his devine features.

“Princess, you didn’t hurt me” he reassured you, taking your hand in his and letting his thumb stroke your knuckles soothingly. “I hurt myself by falling in love with you when I knew I shouldn’t”. You smiled weakly hoping that you could hide how much his confession hurt you, you cared for him so deeply that, had he been the only one in the agreement you would have told him you loved him too.

“We can go back to being friends though right? I don’t want you to shut me out Hyune” you sniffled.

“Of course, you are still my princess” he sighed, pulling you up so he could pull you into his arms and hold you tightly. “I’d kiss you goodbye but I think that will make this worse”.

“Yeah” you nodded against his chest not letting go of him yet.

“I will see you tomorrow, I’ll let myself out” Hyunjin cleared his throat untangling the pair of you and stepping away from you, you nodded again trying to smile but failing as he left your apartment the soft click of the door and the smell of his cologne on your clothes the only thing that now remained of what you were only a few minutes ago. Slumping back onto the chair you stared at the teacup on the table in front of you not really sure what to do other than cry for the man who loved you too much to be selfish, your heart broke at the realization. Hours had passed and when you finally registered that your phone was ringing you realized it was your morning alarm letting you know you had to leave for work in an hour's time. Doing the only thing you could think of in your emotional haze, you texted your manager to let him know that you were unwell and needed the day to get over whatever the bug you caught was and that you would be back the following day before you curled up under the covers to hide yourself away from the world.

At about 11 the first call from Chan came in saying he hoped you felt better, that they all missed you but you needed to rest and recover, a few minutes later another message arrived from Felix worrying that you weren’t well and that if you needed he would come over and take care of you. It continued throughout the day, each of the others messaging you to see if you were alright or needed anything. It wasn't until the ninth message that you had left on read that there was a loud knocking on your front door, dragging yourself to answer, you found yourself face to face with a worried looking Minho with an arm full of shopping bags.

“Oh kitten” he soothed stepping through your front door and placing the bags down on the hallway table to pull you against him tightly kissing your hair “my poor little kitten”.

“You have your schedule Minho, what are you doing here?” you sniffled not letting go of him to try to hide the tears that welled up again at his gentleness.

“My kitten needs someone to take care of her and apparently no one else has thought to, so here I am. I come bearing soup, ice cream, medicine and cuddles to try to help you recover?” he chuckled breathily at you clinging to him so tightly. “Let's get you sitting down and I’ll get you the soup first”.

Shuffling back into your lounge while still clinging to Minho was more difficult than you imagined but he managed to steer you around furniture and other obstacles until he could place you on the couch and escape your grip to get to the kitchen to get you utensils and a bowl. Returning to you quickly he took in your puffy red eyes, miserable expression and blotchy cheeks then frowned.

“Do you want to talk about it, kitten?” He sighed his face betraying the fact that he didn’t believe you were actually sick.

“I must have caught something from another manager I guess” you lied, looking up at him hopefully, you weren’t sure you could explain that Hyunjin had severed the agreement if he hadn’t yet told the other members without causing an issue that you didn’t yet want to fully deal with.

“Do you want to try again?I thought we trusted each other kitten?” he pushed gently pouting looking down at the food he had brought for you and busying himself with that.

“I trust you Minho, I always have” you sniffed again blinking rapidly to hold the tears back. “I just…I guess… I’m too invested in this now and I’m going to end up broken” you finally stammered hugging yourself tightly.

“Kitten, I can’t help if you don’t tell me” he hushed, sitting beside you and pulling you into his arms with your head tucked under his chin rocking you gently until he could feel your hiccuping breaths refusing to stop.

“Hyunjin doesn’t want to continue with the agreement, he said it hurts him too much and he can’t do it anymore” you admitted quietly looking up at him from where he was holding you against his chest.

“I knew he was hurting, I didn’t know he was going to do this though” he sighed, squeezing you slightly. “How about you eat something and then we can get you back into bed hmm” he reasoned, moving just enough that he could pull the bowl of soup towards you. Nodding you ate albeit reluctantly, Minho always showed his care through his actions so ensuring you had eaten and felt safe was the highest form of affection from him, you knew that so you did what you could to let him help. Taking your final mouthful he took the bowl and placed it back down before scooping you up and carrying you into your room and placing you in your bed carefully. Pulling your curtains closed he climbed in beside you pulling you back into his arms cradling you against his chest while he hummed softly fingers playing with your hair to help sooth you as much as he could.

“We all love you kitten, every single one of us, all in different ways. Hyunjin just seems to have actually fallen in love with you” Minho confessed barely above a whisper, the honest openness not lost on you.

“He can’t be in love with me” you murmured back exhausted “he deserves better than me”. You shut your eyes again but instead of hearing whatever the next words out of Minho’s mouth you concentrated on the sound of his heartbeat letting it lull you into the sleep you so desperately needed.

Your dreams were strange one moment you were reliving the conversation in your living room Hyunjin’s face distraught as you both wept and in the next you had your back against the cushions of the couch his lips covering your exposed skin in kisses while his hand snaked into your clothes his expert fingers finding your folds and teasing them as you arched into him. It was so vivid that you couldn’t help the moan that fell from your lips as his deft fingers began exploring your entrance. Chuckling quietly you felt yourself shake awake only to find something entirely different.

“Dreaming of Hyunjin, kitten?” Minho smirked, sinking one of his fingers into your slick entrance, the slight stretch making you mewl “I don’t mind but you seemed so sad I thought I’d help”.

“Min” you purred, lifting your head to press your lips to his, encouraging him to continue. He brought his thumb to your clit lazily rubbing tight circles to give you just enough pleasure to make you whine “please don’t tease me Min”.

“You're so pliant when you're sleepy my kitten” he grinned wickedly slowly pushing another finger into you picking up his pace as he curled them inside you massaging your velvety walls perfectly. Pressing his lips against yours once more he kissed his way down your throat enjoying the soft gasps that continued to fall from your lips only pulling his mouth from your flesh to pull your shirt up far enough to reattach himself to your chest licking and sucking his way to your now pert nipples.

“Minho” you gasped again feeling the familiar warmth coiling in your belly.

“Shhh let me love you how I want kitten” he murmured against your skin before sucking a mark into the side of your left breast knowing it would only be seen by the pair of you. “Love covering you in my marks kitten, marking you as mine” he groaned as you moaned loudly the squelch of his fingers pumping in and out of you getting louder the wetter you got.

“I’m so close” you whined rocking your hips to meet his fingers to help fuck yourself on his digits.

“Not yet” he teased, pulling his fingers from you quickly and putting them in his mouth to suck them clean. “So sweet for me, so wet”. Pulling you up from the bed he rid you of your shirt quickly leaving you bare, your sweatpants long gone from before he even started toying with you. Effortlessly he lifted your legs to rest them on his shoulders giving his access to your arse which he started groping the soft flesh he bent forward licking a slow stripe through your now drenched folds huffing a soft laugh as you groaned loudly “Such a good kitten”.

“Minho, please” you whined, your legs now pressed to our chest, taking his cock in his hand he dragged it up and down your slit catching it against your clit and making you hiss before impaling you fully on his length.

“So fucking tight” he groaned as he began thrusting into you his deep languid thrusts letting you feel every inch of his perfect cock. His hips snapped against yours as he dropped one hand down your leg, his deft fingers circling your clit in time with his thrusts.

“Fuck Minho” you whimpered feeling the coil tightening rapidly inside you, his thrusts deep enough to hit the gummy spot inside you “Fuck”.

“That’s it kitten” he growled, speeding up his thrusts as he felt your walls fluttering around you. Your vision went blank as you felt your orgasm crash over you like white hot flames, your walls clamping around him as you shook beneath him. Fucking you through your orgasm he quickly followed you over the edge thrusting into you sloppily as he emptied himself inside you.

“Mmmm” you hummed trying to catch your breath, Minho carefully pulled himself from you kissing your forehead as he reached for a few tissues to clean himself up before getting up and going into the bathroom to turn on the shower.

“Since it’s still not time for dinner, how about we get cleaned up and we go out to eat? I’ll call Chan and a few of us can all hang out” he suggested, not really waiting for an answer as he pulled you to the edge of the bed and helped you towards the shower.

“Is this just a ploy for shower sex?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“No promises kitten” he smirked ushering you into the bathroom and into the warm water.

A/N: Thank you for reading as always your likes, reblogs and comments are the light in the darkness for me my loves xx

Taglist (closed): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz, @symptoms-of-moonlight, @septicrebel, @ayoitschannie, @krishastumblernow, @tangerminie, @elizalabs3, @armystay89, @septemberkisses, @stay-bi, @seolarflare, @damnyouficc, @eastleighsblog, @wohaku, @bakedlilgoonie, @roamingpolar, @tara-skyhold, @spacegirlstuff, @queenmea604, @fawnpeaks, @3rachasninja, @mrsseals16, @leeknowinggg, @hyunlixsbbygirl, @obeythemasters, @tanzen-ist-gold, @freckleboilix, @junebug032 @hellothisisprincesskitty

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ivesambrose · 2 years

Text

꧁𓊈𒆜𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰𒆜𓊉꧂

1. 2. 3.

4. 5. 6.

This reading is timeless 🖤 ⏳

And based on law of assumption 🌹

To book a personal reading with me DM or email me at [email protected] with your name and query 🌙

Services offered

Reviews

Thanks for the tip 🌹

Picture 1

You've done enough.

You do not need to overdo this at all. Why are you pushing yourself to take actions? Understand the difference between "inspired action" and continously wondering what you should do next in a way that makes you feel hopeless.

With that being said, you're not hopeless.

You're not stuck either.

The answer you're searching for is to come when you stop seeking it. Sounds simple? Because it is.

Shift your perspective. Flip the narrative.

Once again, you've done the work.

Affirmations:

⋆ What I seek is seeking me.

⋆ My manifestions come to me naturally.

⋆ I deserve to feel my feelings and still know that things will work out.

⋆ My heart/I am safe from bitterness / bitter people.

Picture 2

It's on it's way relax!

It's money isn't it? Or something that makes you feel emotionally safe too? It's yours. Stop LOOKING for it. Would you go out and stand outside for your amazon order knowing it's gonna show up anyway?

Rest. Chill. Visualize. You'll see it happen in your dreams, these dreams are confirmations.

The world, my friend is your oyster.

This or that? Why not both?

Have fun and see things come quickly. You don't have to be so serious all the time.

Affirmations

⋆ My manifestions are always instant.

⋆ I gotta declare once and I have it.

⋆ What I want comes to be effortlessly.

⋆ I always have more than enough.

Picture 3

Stop applying logic to your desires and dissecting them especially when you're harming no one but yourself.

Manifestion overrides logic.

When will you stop holding onto beliefs and assumptions that are keeping you from getting what you want? No one's going to change anything but yourself and there's no one to change but yourself.

Let go of that addiction. The need to constantly check and seek validation.

Actually, drop everything. You need a break.

You can't be double minded you know?

This one has a bit of tough love to it, but I feel you need it right now.

Please recognise your worth and stop repeating the same pattern hoping for a different outcome.

Affirmations :

⋆ I let go of whatever that's no longer serving me. Be gone.

⋆ Universe / guides / whatever you have faith in - always has my back.

⋆ I will always be shown the right way.

⋆ I am not a victim. I don't have to struggle.

Picture 4

You'll have peace and you'll make the right choice.

Set your boundaries. Be quiet about your goals and your thoughts when you know someone might try to project their own insecurities onto you.

Sometimes it's okay to be selfish.

It's okay to unlearn what you've been taught for so long. It's also okay to not follow the crowd.

Your mind is so beautiful, so precious and so unique. Please honour your thoughts and please continue ro write, if not for others but for yourself.

I know it gets lonely but you won't be alone for too long, I promise.

It's okay to go through cycles and it's beautiful to embrace change. The change you've been waiting for.

It's okay, you're okay. Even if you're not, you will be. You always are.

Affirmations :

⋆ I got this, I aways got this.

⋆ Sad for them, but I'm built different.

⋆ Everything always works out in my favor.

⋆ Everything is a bridge of incidence for me.

Picture 5

You're already determined as hell.

Stick to your vision, stick to the new story, persist on the bigger picture. You already know this. So you already got this.

You've taken time in building yourself up so you won't be giving your power away to anyone or any circumstances.

I believe you know this already that circumstances do not matter in your reality.

I also want to remind you that the love you want, wants you even more.

The money? The career? Wants YOU.

The beauty? It's already yours.

Stay in this sweet receptive energy. I'm proud of you, you've got this.

Affirmations :

⋆ It's done.

⋆ It's already mine.

⋆ I have nothing to worry about.

⋆ Everything is rigged in my favor.

Picture 6

Trust in the unseen, trust in the unknown. Because you've always had the power.

Justice will be delivered, how and when? Not your concern. Same goes for anything that you want.

When? How? Why? What's it to you? Why focus on crumbs when you can have it all?

I believe you have at least one person or connection you deeply trust. They want the best for you as you for them, cherish this and focus on the feeling this brings you.

The right connections, the opportunities, the circumstances will all unfold suddenly and when you least expect it. Enjoy the ride.

Listen to your intuition and remember what you deserve. Do not settle till you have what you want.

Again, you weren't made for bare minimums.

Affirmations :

⋆ I am beautiful, inside and out.

⋆ I radiate (insert whatever energy you want to identify with)

⋆ I have spoken so it's done / because I said so.

⋆ If I can picture it, I can have it, it is mine.

#Spotify #tarot community #free readings #divination community #pick a card #Law of assumption pick a card #Law of assumption #PAC

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liminalweirdo · 2 months

Text

If you are not in the US, you can sign the above petition.

KOSA is censorhip and targets LGBTQ+ and trans youth.

If you are in the US, the resources will help you find your reps so you can call or email them.

change is possible, but activism is called activism because you must act. Don't wait for others to do it for you.

Scripts for email, fax, or telephone below the cut:

DEMOCRATIC VERSION:

Hi, I am urging you to VOTE NO on KOSA, s.1409. Nearly 200 human rights and LGBT organizations total came out in an open letter opposing it in 2022 and 2023 because of how dangerous it is. The new language does NOT meet any concerns brought up, in fact many organizations were ignored. Major news have reported that this bill actively harms kids. When you look online through social media, you will find thousands of posts by Gen Z who are opposed to this bill. We do not want this.

The rewritten bill would still allow any state attorney general, and now the FTC, to sue any website for “harmful” content. When you have Republicans calling anything LGBT “sexual exploitation” or anything about race “CRT” to successfully ban books and teachers, then they will use any justification to censor the internet. The Missouri attorney general used “mental health” successfully to ban gender-affirming care with backed up research. Suicide rates will skyrocket for marginalized youth with this bill restricting content.

Multiple experts agree this bill pushes age verification, even with the new language. KOSA hands more private data of children to third party companies. Furthermore, updated language threatens encryption the same way the Earn It Act does. How is this protecting children’s privacy?

KOSA actively harms kids by taking away educational resources they need right now. Do NOT support this bill. Thank you.

REPUBLICAN VERSION:

I am urging you to VOTE NO on KOSA, s.1409. This is a dangerous bill that will harm children. Many news organizations have reported that this bill actively harms kids by exposing their private data to strangers under the guise of protecting them. We need to hold Big Tech accountable, but KOSA is not the solution.

The rewritten bill would still allow any state attorney general, and even thr FTC, to sue any website for “harmful” content. Do we really want blue state lawyers deciding what can and can’t be allowed online and continue to censor people? This is massive government overreach. We need a bill that actually protects people by creating better security measures instead of bringing about more censorship.

Multiple experts agree this bill pushes age verification, even with the new language. KOSA hands more private data of children to third party companies, which would put them in further danger. How is this protecting children’s privacy? What parent would want their child’s private data in the hands of strangers like this? KOSA is actively putting kids in danger. Do NOT support this bill. Thank you.

#stop kosa #kosa #lgbtq+#lgbt #queer #trans #transgender #protect trans kids #human rights #internet censorship #surveillance hellscape #censorship

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wesawbears · 7 months

Text

Cross posting here as well on A03, but here is my @aftg-mixtape gift for @foxywrites! I hope you enjoy!

Song was "Someone to You" by Banners, go listen!

It's a Tuesday when Neil gets the letter.

By all accounts, it’s a totally unremarkable Tuesday. He comes in from his morning run, hoodie pulled over his hair as the rain pounds the pavement with the same cadence as his feet. Neil wasn't personally so precious about his hair, but he could hear Andrew's voice in his head, telling him he was as bad as a dog, shaking water out all over the apartment.

He smirks to himself as he snatches the mail out of the box, trying to shield the paper from the elements and failing miserably. He closes the door with his foot as soon as he's inside, throwing his hood down to get the wet garment off as soon as possible.

“Don't-”

“Shake my hair.” Neil flashes a grin. “I know.”

Andrew throws him an unimpressed look from where he’s curled on the couch in his pajamas. “Hmm.”

“You're just mad because the rain woke you up.”

“What was in the mail?”

Neil snorts at Andrew's obvious deflection and shrugs, tearing the envelope open with his teeth. “Dunno.”

He scans over the page quickly, not used to getting a lot of mail. Most of his information is sent to him directly by his publicist, who had been warned by Wymack that Neil couldn't be trusted to check his email. She's one of the four people whose calls he knows he has to take when he sees their names come up on his phone. Everything else still takes at least two days for him to remember to respond to.

To anyone else, it would be a form letter, a quick piece of mail destined for the recycle bin. But Neil just stares at it.

“What,” Andrew repeats, more a demand than a question. He's sat up, face neutral but the line of tension in his shoulders makes it clear that he's curious of what Neil will do next, ready to pull him back from the edge if need be.

“It's a letter to renew my license,” Neil says simply.

Presumably, Andrew does the same math Neil just did. “Five years since you became a real boy.”

“Five years,” Neil echoes, still staring down at the paper. It's been long enough that his hand doesn't freeze on the page when he signs his name, that answering to it feels more like an automatic response than playing a part, but something about seeing it on such a boring piece of paper makes his breath catch.

You are going to be Neil from now until death.

He was Neil, and no one could take that away from him. When he first signed the piece of paper affirming that the jumble of letters on the page made up who he was, it had felt surreal, another dream that was held out to him but just out of reach. But now, it was the name on his lease, the name that displayed every time he took to the field. The name on the envelopes sent via mail forwarding to Andrew’s apartment every off season. It was his.

“Your reaction is what DMV employees dream about,” Andrew deadpans. “You should ask about a sponsorship.”

“Five years ago I wasn’t sure if I would be alive long enough to need to worry about things like this,” Neil answers. “I didn’t know if Ichirou would find me worth keeping around.”

Andrew’s jaw clenches at the mention of Neil’s deal, but he evidently decides against jabbing that wound for the time being. “Neil,” he says simply, letting it curl through the air. It’s matter of fact, but Neil loves the way his name sounds when Andrew says it, like it’s a fact as simple as gravity or the sunrise.

“Andrew,” he says back. He places the letter on the kitchen table, electing to join Andrew where he lounges on the couch. As he sits, he lets their legs press together, taking as much warmth as he can from Andrew while he’s still sleep warm.

“You need to shower,” Andrew says, but makes no move to push Neil away.

“In a minute.” Right now, he’s content to look his fill. Morning Andrew is a rare joy that only Neil really gets to appreciate.

He drifts off on Andrew’s shoulder, and neither of them move until the afternoon.

–

It takes a few weeks for Neil’s new license to come, after the annoying visit to the DMV to get the photo taken and fill out paperwork. When it does, Neil stares at it for a little too long, cataloging all the little changes that have happened in the last five years. It’s still him, just with a few more freckles, a little less glow. All around him, people are terrified of aging, but Neil relishes it. Wrinkles, the random gray hair from time to time, they all add up to something Neil never thought could be his. In its place is a different fear, the fear that comes from being a dead man walking for so long that he never imagined what the future could look like. Its a feeling he knows Andrew shares, the terrifying thrill of building something from scratch what had only been black and haze before.

The exy offseason isn’t long as a mostly year-round sport, but the summers are filled with him and Andrew and the road, getting in the Mas, picking a direction and driving until the sun is high in the sky. Driving with Andrew is as close to an answer to his questions that Neil feels he can get. There’s something about it that lets him live outside of time, where all that’s real is the next ten miles.

It’s one of those days that they stop at a diner in Kentucky, and Neil watches Andrew as he scrapes the toppings off a burger and mashes it together into some kind of burger salad, pouring hot sauce over it to top it off.

“What do you think about your name?”

The question rolls off of his tongue, and Andrew just tilts his head, staring at the jumble of ingredients like they’re a magic eight ball.

“It is my name.”

“Yeah, but do you like it?”

Andrew looks up at that. “I did not pick it out. It is a collection of syllables.”

“You know it’s more than that,” Neil says. “You told me once I didn’t look like my father’s name.”

“You didn’t,” Andrew says. “You look like Neil.”

It’s not that Neil wants him to change his name. Andrew suits him. But Neil knows the weight that comes with carrying the legacy of a family you didn’t choose, one that didn’t know you the way they were supposed to. For him to carry the last name of someone he barely knew- someone he was responsible for the death of- seemed like a lot of baggage to carry.

“Why did you keep your last name?”

With anyone else it would be a rude question, but Andrew has never balked at bluntness. He does, however, dodge questions he doesn’t want to answer, and he half expects another non-answer. Andrew doesn’t lie about things that matter, but Andrew’s definition of truth is absolute. He had to pick his questions carefully.

“Too much paperwork.”

“Andrew,” he says. Like with the keys, Neil knows Andrew well enough by now to know that he’s avoiding a truth that hurts. Neil won’t rub salt in the wound, but he knows how badly Andrew had wanted to be a Spear, and what it had cost for him to give that up. Names meant you were someone, but they could also mean you belonged to someone. And the idea of any part of Andrew belonging to some unnamed person who left his mother, or to Tilda even in the grave, burned Neil more than he dared to say.

“It is not as though there is anyone left but me and Aaron.” He moves his fork around, stirring intently. “I didn’t care about my name. Before I learned I had a brother.”

“And now?” Neil asks.

Andrew shrugs. “You hate your old name because you hated your father. I feel nothing toward Tilda. She was nothing to me.”

Neil cups his own cheek in his hand as he thinks. “For so long, I thought a name was a collar. But- it doesn’t have to be. You can belong with someone without belonging to them.”

“This is sounding more and more like a marriage proposal,” Andrew says, though his voice sounds curious rather than biting.

Neil shakes his head. “A marriage is just another deal.”

Andrew hums. “And taking someone’s name is known for being a strings-free attachment.”

“I didn’t say I wanted you to take my name. Just maybe that our names might go together.”

Andrew leans back. “You just renewed your license. Do you have some kind of paperwork fetish you never told me about?”

“I’m a math major, of course I do.”

Andrew huffs what Neil knows by now is a laugh. “There will always be more papers for you to sign your shiny name on then, junkie.”

Everyone called Andrew the possessive one, but Neil didn’t know what to call this itch below his skin, the desire not to keep Andrew for himself but for everyone to see that they fit and that Andrew was as permanent as Neil Josten. For Andrew to feel the same thing Neil did every time he put his name on paper.

To know that just as Neil had chosen himself, he had chosen Andrew too.

Andrew nudges his hand toward Neil’s, wrapping their pinkies together across the dingy table. “Names aren’t the only way to belong. I chose you and you chose me. Neither of us are going anywhere.”

It’s the certainty in his voice that calms Neil’s jackrabbit heart. There’s a part of him that leaps toward permanency, but Andrew is solid enough to remind him that he already has enough to hang on to.

Neil smiles, and they enjoy the silence until the plates are cleared and the sun is Neil’s favorite shade of orange. As they leave, he lets a smirk take over his face.

“How long do you think Kevin would yell at us for if we got tattoos?”

Andrew hums as he turns the ignition. “Might be interesting to find out.”

Three months later, Neil hangs up on Kevin at minute eleven.

#aftg mixtape #aftg #all for the game #andreil #tfc

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ceilidhtransing · 5 months

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The Cass Review: Cis-Supremacy in the UK's Approach to Healthcare for Trans Children

is a brilliant academic article by Dr Cal Horton, the full body of which can be found here.

For non-UK folk wondering what on earth is going on, the Cass Review is a recently released report about healthcare for trans and gender-questioning kids written entirely by cis people, the recommendations of which are being used right now to justify further restrictions on trans healthcare, including “pausing” all new prescriptions for puberty blockers in the youth gender services.

This article breaks down very thoroughly the biggest ways in which this review is dogshit and has transphobic bias baked in at the most basic level. The results section is a long (but worthwhile) read, but if you have less time, the much shorter discussion and conclusion sections summarise the results.

It's a great resource if you've vaguely heard about “this thing called the Cass Review” and want to know what its issues are but don't want to wade through hundreds of pages of transphobic dogwhistling. It's particularly useful to cite or quote if you're contacting your political representatives and want to back up your claims.* Horton is very good at stating perfectly unambiguously the massive problems with this review in ways that support trans lives and don't try to “both-sides” the issue.

*And I strongly encourage you to do so if you're in the UK; the website WriteToThem makes it very easy. This website contains useful information and a template email that is Scotland-specific, but obviously you can adapt it to fit the particular situations of the other UK nations.

Choice quotes include (highlights mine):

“Within the Cass Review anti-trans prejudice is not acknowledged as a problem or a threat to trans children. Across several reports the Cass Review centres the concerns of non-affirmative professionals, including those who do not believe in the existence of trans children. The existence of anti-trans prejudice amongst healthcare professionals is well-documented in existing literature and Cass Review reports indeed provide clear indication of professional ignorance or prejudice. However, across Cass Review reports, there is no instance where professional views on trans children are identified as ill-informed or prejudiced or are rejected from inclusion in the review. Instead, the views of ignorant or pathologising professionals seeking support for non-affirming practice with trans children are presented with sympathy. There is no parallel consideration of the rights or welfare of trans children, nor discussion of an NHS duty of care to protect trans children from being harmed by professionals who reject the validity or existence of trans lives. The Cass approach welcomes all views, including those grounded in ignorance, pathologisation or denial of the existence of trans children.”

“Pathologisation of gender diversity can be seen across Cass Review outputs. Entrenched cisnormativity and problematisation of transness leads to the Cass Review prioritising the research questions about transness that trouble cis people. The Cass Review does not centre trans community research priorities such as enhancing depathologised access to safe and effective healthcare for trans children. This leads the Cass Review into research priorities that are more philosophical than medical, questions on epidemiology of transness, aetiology or identity persistence. The Cass Review is able to step beyond (and deprioritise) the domains of effective trans healthcare for trans children, by the Review’s failure to recognise trans children as a core stakeholder group, enabling the very existence of trans children to be a valid topic of cis curiosity. Whilst the Cass Review decentres and delegitimises its core target population (trans children), their health and welfare needs are secondary to curiosity on how children came to identify as trans and whether or when they will stop.”

“The NICE evidence reviews chaired by Dr Cass both utilised an approach where only evidence like randomised controlled trials are considered high quality evidence. In a field where RCTs are recognised as infeasible and unethical, in a field where “high quality evidence” does not and may never exist, we may be left to wonder, has this evidence review really served to enlighten and inform decision making in trans healthcare? Those interested in maximising trans children’s well-being would look at all available sources of evidence, and use the best quality existing evidence to inform decision making. Instead, the absence of a type of “high quality” evidence is used by the Cass Review to conclude that “evidence on the appropriate management of children and young people with gender incongruence and dysphoria is inconclusive.” Such statements have legitimised the closure of current trans children’s healthcare services for England and Wales, with no services currently operational. [Since the publication of this article, this is also now true for Scotland.] The Cass approach places so much emphasis on uncertainties, unknowns, areas without consensus and the absence of “high quality evidence” that it can be read as an argument against affirmative healthcare for trans children. A cisnormative double standard can also be seen, where evidence-based affirmative approaches are dismissed with calls for RCT standard evidence, whilst non-affirmative theories and policies are introduced and endorsed with no or limited evidence.”

“The Cass Review overall can be considered an example of cis-ignorance, a concept recognised in trans healthcare, where “ignorance is not simply an absence of knowledge, but an epistemic practice in its own right” (Mikulak, p. 827). Mikulak recognises that “practices of ignorance are often entangled with practices of exclusion and oppression”. Cis-ignorance can be seen in the Cass Review’s decision to exclude trans expertise, in the choice to appoint leadership without experience or knowledge, and in the valuing of insights from healthcare professionals who do not even believe in the existence of trans children. Cis-ignorance is apparent in the cisnormative framing of research questions, where research on the meaning of identity or the epidemiology of transness are perceived as important research priorities, and in the erasure of trans children from the Review’s stated target group, leaving trans children’s existence a topic of debate. Cis-ignorance can be seen in the citation of discredited research, forcing affirmative researchers to continually re-dispute the same literature that has been critiqued so many times, including in peer reviewed literature, preventing the field from moving forwards. Cis-ignorance can be seen in a futile search for consensus in a polarised field, setting out (with time, resources, and establishment credentials) to reach an objective of building consensus that is doomed from the start. Cis-ignorance can be seen in the dismissal of existing knowledge, framing the whole of trans healthcare as “inconclusive,” “unknown” or risky, and in calls for infeasible and unethical RCT or blinded control studies. Observers may wonder whether cis-ignorance is intentional and abusive, or careless and ill-informed. Regardless of intent, it manifests as an exertion of cis power over trans communities, in a National Health Service that continues to fail to uphold trans people’s rights to equality in healthcare.”

Anyway, I encourage you to go read Horton's article if you have the time and inclination; it's an excellent elucidation of the major issues in a dangerous review that has the potential to make healthcare for trans people in the UK even worse than it already is.

#transgender #transphobia #trans #trans rights #trans youth #trans uk #transmasc #transfem #uk #uk news #uk politics #cass review #cass report #puberty blockers #nhs #gender affirming care #lgbt #lgbtqia #my posts

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the-rad1o-demon · 1 year

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@neil-gaiman, @transformativeworks, @vancityreynolds :

I am asking you to reblog this to spread the word, to make sure people see all of this. You don't have to if you don't want to, but it would be extremely appreciated it you did! 💛

youtube

It's important that we stop these bills and keep Project 2025 from ever winning. I do not want to live in a world where the Internet is censored by LGBTQ+phobic and racist politicians. I do not want to live in a country where Donald Trump is literally the dictator. I do not want to live in a country where people such as myself are oppressed and forced into hiding/out of the country because of extremists like the ones behind KOSA, behind all these other really bad Internet bills, and behind Project 2025.

I am asking you to reblog/share this post, and I am asking you also that if you're able to take action against these bills. And definitely try to make people more aware of Project 2025 especially, because it will seriously fuck things up for nearly everyone in the United States (except for the ones running that show, obviously).

To help stop KOSA in particular, I'm copying and pasting from a document I wrote for the folks on my campus:

[BEGIN COPY-PASTED SECTION]

WAYS YOU CAN HELP STOP KOSA

Email to your friends, family, classmates, professors, etc.

Stage protests (and stay safe if doing so!)

Create and print out posters you can put up in areas people will see (if it's allowed there)! Doesn’t need to be fancy, it can be something like this in terms of text content:

STOP KOSA 2023

This bill threatens to censor many marginalized communities and topics on the Internet, including but not limited to:

The LGBTQ+ community

The discussion of race

Mental health issues

And many more!

It also will take away even more of both children’s and adults’ privacy on the Internet!

Call your state’s senators to tell them not to sign. Slightly edited scripts you can use are copied and pasted below, the Google doc from whence they came is below:

………………

DEMOCRATIC VERSION Hi, I am urging you to VOTE NO on KOSA, s.1409. Almost 100 human rights and LGBT organizations came out in an open letter opposing it in 2022 and 2023 because of how dangerous it is. The new language does NOT meet any concerns brought up, in fact many organizations were ignored. Major news have reported that this bill actively harms kids. When you look online through social media, you will find hundreds of posts by Gen Z who are opposed to this bill. We do not want this. This bill would allow any state attorney general to sue any website for “harmful” content. When you have Republicans calling anything LGBT “sexual exploitation” or anything about race “CRT” to successfully ban books and teachers, then they will use any justification to censor the internet. The Missouri attorney general used “mental health” successfully to ban gender-affirming care with backed up research. Suicide rates will skyrocket for marginalized youth with this bill restricting content. Multiple experts agree this bill pushes age verification, even with the new language. KOSA hands more private data of children to third party companies. Furthermore, updated language threatens encryption the same way the Earn It Act does. How is this protecting children’s privacy? KOSA actively harms kids by taking away educational resources they need right now. Do NOT support this bill. Thank you.

REPUBLICAN VERSION I am urging you to VOTE NO on KOSA, s.1409. This is a dangerous bill that will harm children. Many news organizations have reported that this bill actively harms kids by exposing their private data to strangers under the guise of protecting them. We need to hold Big Tech accountable, but KOSA is not the solution. This bill would allow any state attorney general to sue any website for “harmful” content. Do we really want blue state lawyers deciding what can and can’t be allowed online and continue to censor people? This is massive government overreach. We need a bill that actually protects people by creating better security measures instead of bringing about more censorship. Multiple experts agree this bill pushes age verification, even with the new language. KOSA hands more private data of children to third party companies, which would put them in further danger. How is this protecting children’s privacy? What parent would want their child’s private data in the hands of strangers like this? KOSA is actively putting kids in danger. Do NOT support this bill. Thank you. ……………… This version comes from this Google doc, which has additional learning resources! (It also has additional resources for fighting the KOSA bill, but some of it is outdated due to Congress having already done their thing):

Note that there is a separate script for Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer, use THIS ONE for him:

If you know anyone in Massachusetts specifically, tell them to call Senator Warren in order to ask her to rescind her support of KOSA. Script you can use written below (this one I wrote myself):

……………… Hello, Senator Warren. I am calling you today to ask that you rescind your support of the KOSA bill. It does not protect children. If anything, it will actively them by cutting them off from important discussions about the LGBTQ+ community, discussions about race, and mental health issues. There are even children in abusive situations who might not even know they’re being abused, and by censoring the Internet like this, or blocking children out of certain discussions, they may not find out until they’re adults. Senator Blackburn has made it perfectly clear that this bill aims to “protect” children from the trans community. Civil lawmakers, civil rights organizations, and many others have been saying over and over that this bill could be used to censor other marginalized groups as well. Please don’t support this bill. Thank you for your time and your consideration. ………………

Another important and final thing to do is to stay informed. Keep an eye on the news and on what’s happening with the KOSA bill.

That’s all I have for you!

[END COPY-PASTED SECTION]

Also!! Petition you can sign!

Thank you so much for your time, and please do whatever you can to help stop this train wreck.

EDIT - UPDATE:

Please look at the following post!

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genderqueerpositivity · 2 years

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On a Saturday afternoon in August 2019, South Dakota Republican state Rep. Fred Deutsch sent an email to 18 anti-trans activists, doctors, and lawyers with the text of a bill he planned to introduce that would make it a felony for doctors to give transgender children under 16 gender-affirming medical care. “I have no doubt this will be an uphill battle when we get to session,” Deutsch warned the group. “As always, please do not share this with the media. The longer we can fly under the radar the better.”

The message was one in a trove of emails obtained by Mother Jones between Deutsch and representatives of a network of activists and organizations at the forefront of the anti-trans movement. They show the degree to which these activists shaped Deutsch’s repressive legislation, a version of which was signed into law in February, and the tactics, alliances, and goals of a movement that has sought to foist their agenda on a national scale.

More people need to know that this happened...and is happening. This explosion in anti-trans bills is not an accident and it isn't not a coincidence...it is the very deliberate work of a small group of Christian fascists, detransitioners, and trans exclusionary feminists. They collaborate behind the scenes to write the bills, coach each other on which specific words and talking points to use, and travel to meet with legislators in hopes of convincing them to support anti-trans laws.

I'm glad that these emails were leaked. Everyone deserves to know how we've ended up with things as they are right now, and honestly the people responsible for these attacks on the trans community fully deserve to have their role in it made public and they shouldn't be forgiven.

The full text of these emails is available online, if you know where to look, and if you have ever wanted to see how these people talk about us amongst themselves. The constant creepy culty religious language sprinkled throughout is simply a bonus.

Under His Eye Wings, I guess.

#transphobia #trans #transphobia tw #trans healthcare bans #if you do look up the file #be aware that it is bad

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prismuffin · 2 years

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Elijah Kamski Fluff/SFW Alphabet

A/n: GN!Reader (can be read as any gender-!!)

Using: A, B, G, I, L, M, P, U, V

warnings?: light swearing!

!-!more under the cut!-!

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

Elijah adores your smile and your laugh, he loves the sound of your laughter whenever he makes a corny joke and the way you smile at him whenever you notice his presence it just fills him with adoration.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Elijah loves your hands.

He loves holding them in his whenever he can get the chance. When you’re both on the couch doing your own separate things, he will always find a way to grab your hand just so he can play with your fingers as he reads or responds to the countless emails that flood his inbox.

He loves the way they cup his face in the mornings and how your fingers run through his hair. Sometimes he regrets cutting off his ponytail cause he misses you braiding his hair

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

He has no problem giving you gifts, he'll spoil you so fucking much. Though he's not necessarily the type to do it out of the blue ya know? (unless he's been away from you for too long). If you ask him to buy you something then he'll get it for you but if you're not the type to ask then he'll usually only give you gifts for things like birthdays and anniversary's. Only exception is when he knows you've been eyeing something but have been hesitant to buy it- but even then he might just wait until your birthday to give it to you. (if that's too far away tho he'll just surprise you with it one day.)

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

He's immediately by your side, it doesn't matter what he was doing, all that matters is you right now.

If it's something a bit minor like you accidentally cutting yourself while cooking or getting a razer-cut he'd ask you to sit while telling Chloe to fetch the first aid kit. He'd patch you up himself before planting a loving kiss to the area and asking you to be more careful next time.

If the injury is worse- like a broken/sprained bone he'll make sure you have everything you need while simultaneously staying by your side. Need water? He'll ask Chloe to fetch it. Wanna watch a movie? He's on it. Tired of staying inside all week? He'll have the Chloe's get/find a wheelchair so that he can take you on a walk outside.

If the injury is life-threatening or bad enough to hospitalize you he gets scared. He's once again by your side until you're able to be released from the hospital. He'll get the best doctors and will constantly ask questions about your condition. Once he's able to take you home you're practically on bed rest cause he's doing everything for you. He'll have Chloe set timers of when you should take your pain meds and will just practically fawn over you. One wince slips from your mouth and he's on you asking what hurts and where. Will hold your hand if he can and will have a heartfelt talk about how scared he was for you. After you recover he loves you unconditionally and is very touchy with you but you know he's just glad that you're ok.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

He has three main love languages: Quality Time, Words of affirmation, and Gift Giving- and your personality defines which of the three is used the most.

If you like material items (no shade) he'll que in on this and will give you gifts unprompted. He loves seeing your face light up whenever he spoils you so he'll do it often.

If you love having reassurance he'll pick up on it and will constantly remind you how beautiful or handsome you look. He'll probably start every morning with a "hello beautiful" cause he knows you like it and he loves you and loves encouraging you to love you too.

I think quality time is his default for sure. Though with him being so busy all the time he doesn't always get to satisfy that need so he'll switch to gift giving up until he leaves Cyberlife. After retiring he's making up for so much lost time. Loves you being the last thing he sees before he goes to bed and the first thing he sees when he wakes up. Always asks you to join him in whatever he's doing for that day. He's going for a run you wanna join? He think's todays a good day for a dip in the pool would you like to join? Wanna sit together and read in silence? He is so down ugh he just loves being in your presence, you make him so happy and comfortable.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

Your first date (even though you stress that it technically wasn't a date)

You were both hanging out in your dorm room back when you were both in college. He was rambling about one of his projects, about how it could change the world if he got the coding right. Sorta zoned out after a second and stopped talking as he realized just how much he was rambling. (Look he's literally a nerd with an emo haircut and I headcanon that he was super awkward in college but he's polite enough to be professional when talking to superiors.) He got super shy and practically clammed up. He thought he was annoying you until you asked him why he stopped talking, asking if something was wrong. He stared at you for a moment before chuckling nervously, saying something along the lines of "you probably don't wanna hear me rambling about this" to which you responded that you didn't mind listening.

Definitely sees that interaction as the first reason he fell in love with you and so that's why it's his favorite :)

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

He likes to make a nickname out of your name and then gatekeep it so that no one else can use it. He'll also use ones like "baby" and "love" and "darling" especially darling he abuses the heck out of that one. He'll call you a cutie at times when you're both cuddling or if you're staring at him for too long.

Loves to put 'my' in front of every nickname mentioned above.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

He'll give you your space if you're angry at him. He'll ask the Chloe's to check on you every now and then before going to talk to you himself. He'll apologize even if he wasn't in the wrong and will take things slow cause he feels really bad about upsetting you.

If it's not really his fault and it's just work or any other third party he'll offer to get your mind off of it for a while. Wanna take a dip in the pool with him, you both can swim laps or back float to destress. He'll also offer massages, he'd offer Chloe giving you one but if you suggest one from him he has no problem satisfying your needs. He'll make sure you've eaten too- he just hates seeing you upset so he's desperate to see his baby smile at him again.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

BYE he loves to show you off.

Tons of people are so tired of his social media cause it’s all just you.

Especially after he left cyberlife.

With him not having to post about new android updates (which he rarely did anyway) he found having social media was pretty useless. However whenever you finished a new project of yours wether that’s: a new song or album, some new art, a new movie or show you’re in, or new photos from a photo shoot, he’s gonna repost it on his story or quote tweet it with a lengthy caption about how proud he is of you and how everyone should go support your thing cause it’s really good.

If you are famous and have to go to red carpets a lot he loves to spin you around for the photos and make sure to get some paparazzi attention on you because you just look too gorgeous to miss.

Overall, he loves showing off his baby and their achievements.

----!----

random ik but I just love Eli-!!

Thanks for reading! Have a great day/night!!

My requests are CLOSED but you can still send me messages to see if I'm close to opening them again!

See my DIRECTORY for upcoming fics!

Masterlist

#Elijah kamski #elijah kamski x reader #elijah kamski headcanons #elijah kamski x gn reader #slijah kamski x male reader #elijah kamski x fem reader #kamski x reader #kamski dbh #dbh #detroit become human x reader #fanfiction #dbh fanfiction #elijah kamski fanfiction #prismuffin #detroit become human #gn reader #male reader #fem reader #x gn reader

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freedomfireflies · 1 year

Note

So my mri came back and my foot is definitely broken 😭

Can I get a Money spoiler to make my day better?

Oh my gosh babe!!! I'm so sorry to hear about your foot, I hope it gets better so soon!! 😭💞

I'm working on the juicier bits right now so I can't give you those spoilers yet but I can give you the first few lines of the next part if that's okay???

“Good morning, Mr. Styles.”

The tense frame of the man pacing in front of the window stills when he hears your greeting.

You’re five minutes early, coffee in hand, ready to begin your workday.

However, he doesn’t turn around as you enter his office. But the slight glimpse of his profile lets you know he’s acutely aware of your presence.

He stays by his desk, offering nothing more than his silence as you set down his drink and move for the couch.

“Good morning,” is his brisk greeting. It’s not any warmer or colder than usual. It’s just him. “Do you have the reports I asked for?”

“Right here.” You drop them onto the coffee table. “Ready for your meeting this afternoon.”

“Good.” He stares out at the city, unwilling to look you in the eye. “And you’ve confirmed with Nadia?”

“Yes. She’s calling for a driver as we speak.”

He nods once, fingers flexing beside his thighs before he finally ventures a glance over his shoulder. “And I suppose you’d like to talk to me about the other day.”

You flip open the laptop and pull up your email, eyebrow raised. “The other day?”

He turns to you, and you feel his heated stare. “I believe I owe you an explanation.”

“Not really,” you respond, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “You agreed to help me with the video, and you did. I didn’t expect you to stay, sir.”

Your peripheral catches his slight frown. “You didn’t?”

“No.” You open his schedule and begin jotting down a few notes from Nadia’s email. “You’re not exactly the cuddling type, sir. Probably would have been weirder if you had stayed.”

His hands disappear into his pockets as he regards you. “I never meant to upset you.”

“You didn’t.” Another shrug. “I knew what I agreed to, and now we’re done. No harm, no foul.”

The frown deepens. “Still, I shouldn’t have walked out on you like that—”

Something unrecognizable passes over his features.

You lean forward. “We’re good, sir.”

The office goes quiet. You know him well enough by now to know what it looks like when he’s biting back a response.

And you imagine there are quite a few things he’d like to berate you for, but instead, he merely clamps his jaw shut and nods.

“All right.” He returns to his desk and takes a seat. “Let’s begin.”

#harry #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles spoiler #sneak peek #one for the money #harry and peach #ceo!harry

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subliminalbo · 1 year

Text

Veronica was never the vocal type. She preferred to observe from a distance, saving her input for when it was most valuable. But sitting in the conference hall at the Carpenter State student union listening to spoiled rich girls bitch about Madison Wells, she found it difficult to maintain her silence.

Madison and her Alphas had dominated campus gossip for weeks. Her recruiting strategy hadn't just been aggressive, it was effective. Even after pledge season she continued poaching girls from other sororities. When a pair of high ranking Sigma Epsilon girls filed a petition to merge their sorority with the Alphas, an emergency meeting of the Greek Council was called to order.

The presidents and officers of five major sororities showed up:

Epsilon Eta Phi, Carpenter State's oldest active sorority and a popular club for old Romero money and kids with connections. President Amanda Hewitt and Vice President Michelle Norton arrived early and took seats at the head of the table. Though their input had little substance, they were always in attendance for special meetings and demanded to speak first.

Pi Delta Kappa, boasting the strictest academic requirements for membership, had a reputation for housing future congresswomen and CEOs. Presidents Tamika Graham and Antonia Reyna attended with Veronica Kirby, treasurer, joining as a consult. The two co-presidents came prepared with a PowerPoint presentation mapping out the projected gain/loss of each sorority.

Alpha Kappa Psi, an exclusive sorority for female athletes, sent a single representative in Demi Snyder. A member of Carpenter State's conference champion volleyball team, Demi held no leadership position in Alpha Kappa Psi and only came to rehash bad blood.

Sigma Eta Chi was the newest and smallest member of the Greek Council, but the loudest sorority on campus. Labeled a right wing hate group by campus activists, the sorority was founded as Carpenter State's only all-white Greek house. President Sadie Bradford and advisor Marla Hunter attended with a binder full of data about Carpenter State's affirmative action programs.

Beta Phi Alpha, once a thriving sorority under the leadership of President Ana Marino, had been most affected by the rise of Madison Wells and the Alphas. With more members moving into the Alpha house by the week, it was Ana who called the emergency meeting. Vice President Morgan Jones and senior member Taylor Byrne came as support.

None of the campus fraternities sent representatives.

"I was hoping for a better turnout, but this should do," Ana said as she rose from her seat to share some pre-written statement about the Alphas. She was interrupted by Amanda who was unhappy about the lack of vegan options at the meeting.

"You knew that Epsilon House was doing No Milk October and yet you still chose pizza. Just being in the presence of all this cheese is an insult to our veganity."

"We didn't know about your dietary restrictions," Morgan spoke calmly. "If you'd replied to our email—"

"Bullshit, Morgan," Michelle cut in. "Ana subscribes to our newsletter. No Milk October was this month's cover page."

Amanda was nibbling on a slice of pizza now, mumbling through tears. "I'm so upset."

"I hear you," Ana spoke in a measured tone, still standing. "And next time we'll try to be more conscious of your needs. But I want to talk about—"

"Nobody gives a fuuuck," Demi groaned. "I want to talk about Melanie Reyes."

"Jesus Christ," Taylor rolled her eyes. "Are we doing this again?"

"She was ours. You know that we have first shot at the athletes."

"She wasn't interested in pledging with anybody," Taylor said. "She struck you down, we took our shot."

"She didn't 'strike us down,' you approached her before our blessing and it scared her away. Do you have any idea what losing the best softball player in a generation means for our reputation?"

Taylor shrugged. "Almost as bad as a one seed losing in the first round of the playoffs."

"We were conference champions!" Demi shouted. "That's still a successful season!"

"Ana's right," Tamika spoke up next. "The Alphas' unprecedented growth is an existential threat to Greek life on campus. We've never seen anything like this before."

"Thank you," Ana gestured dramatically toward Tamika.

"Madison's proposal to merge with Delta Sigma Epsilon is just the beginning," Antonia continued, clicking through graphs of each sorority's historical growth rate on the projector screen. "She won't stop there. She aims to absorb every sorority on campus."

"Why should we care?" Sadie asked. "I don't think we should reward houses for failing."

"We're not rewarding anybody," Morgan said. "We're protecting our institutions."

"Protecting yourselves," Marla scoffed. "It's not our fault people are turned off by your out-of-control, PC, safe space agenda."

"I'm sorry," Taylor waved her hands. "Isn't your house just a safe space for Nazis?"

"Un-safe!" Sadie shot back. "We are not a 'safe space.' It states it in our charter: 'An un-safe space for conservative sisters who want to live free of censorship, cancellation, and the gay agenda.'"

"—And we're not Nazis." Marla muttered.

"Un-safe space?" Morgan repeated. "That's literally nothing."

"It's a safe space!" Ana cried. "You can't just do a thing and call it a different thing!"

Sadie took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I just feel so threatened right now."

Ana losing her cool was the tipping point. The table erupted now into shouts.

Demi lobbed broad accusations at the Betas' side while Taylor came back with shockingly personal insults. Marla cradled a sobbing Sadie and shouted "Snowflakes!" Michelle and Amanda had begun packing up their bags and were sneaking out with a box of pizza while Antonia tried desperately to steer the conversation back to the Alphas.

And, of course, sitting there silently in the middle of the ruckus was Veronica. The girls jumped at the sound of her stainless steel water bottle clanging against the table like a judge's gavel. She pounded once, twice, three times, until all attention was on her. She stood from her seat, her sisters more surprised as anyone else in the room.

"I'm sorry, y'all, but this is all so fucking stupid," Veronica said.

Tamika gasped, but quickly regained her composure.

"We can argue all day, but there's only one piece of data here that matters to me."

Veronica took the laptop gently from Antonia. She clicked to a page with two sets of data plotted on a line graph. The first line declined steadily across the screen. The second line followed the same trend as the first, but suddenly skyrocketed to the top of the graph near the end.

"This graph tracks the historical average of sorority membership for the last fifty years. The line trending down is all other sororities on campus, while the one trending up is Alpha Delta Theta. It's the only sorority that's growing. And is there any question why?"

"Mind control?" Marla asked to a reception of giggles.

Veronica shook her head. "We can't share a room without going at each other's throats. Yes, Greek life is supposed to be a safe space. It's place for found family. A place to be comforted in our hardest days. And of course, yes, to find really cute boys."

Tamika smiled at that. A lot of the girls around the table had started smiling.

Veronica shook her head with a cute little laugh and continued, "Is it maybe possible that instead of going to war with this year's It house, we work on doing better in our own? Because when I look at Madison, what I see is someone doing serious outreach in the community. She works her ass off, and she's being rewarded for it. Yeah, she's kind of a secret bitch. But I've been to a Greek Council meeting. We're all kind of secret bitches."

Veronica's speech was so persuasive that by the end of the meeting the girls were even discussing inviting the Alphas to the Greek Council. Only Ana and the Betas were left dissatisfied with the outcome, but they found themselves on the outside looking in with Veronica's sudden appeal to good vibes.

"Is it just me," Taylor whispered, leaning in toward Ana. "Or is this all bullshit?"

"It's a fucking set up," Ana growled back, staring down Veronica who was laughing it up at the end of the table with her sisters and the Epsilon Eta Phi girls.

"I think we're on our own now," Morgan said solemnly.

Tamika's piercing laugh caught the attention of everyone at the table.

"At first I was like, 'Whaaaat is she saying?' But I'm really proud of you, Roni," Tamika smiled. "It's exactly what I think we all needed to hear." She shot a glance Ana's way.

"Thank you," Veronica offered a sheepish sort of smile back her way.

The hall emptied out quickly after that with the Pi sisters volunteering to stay behind and clean up. Veronica assured Tamika and Antonia that she could handle the rest and soon she was alone in the conference hall.

When she was certain that her sisters were clear of the door, she pulled out her phone and dialed.

"It's done," Veronica said.

"Successful, I'm assuming?" Madison asked.

"Yes." Veronica's pulse picked up at the sound of Madison's voice. It was suddenly very hot in the student union. Her voice cracked as she spoke again. "The cancellation emails worked. Only the houses we wanted came to the meeting. It was chaos."

"Good," Madison said. Veronica could see Madison's lips moving with her voice. "So the heat's off?"

"Th-they want to invite you into the council."

"Even better. You sound worked up, Roni."

"I'm so fucking hot," Veronica moaned. Her free hand clawed at her breast, her fingers circling the outline of her nipple beneath the fabric of her tight dress. She wanted to tear the dress down its seam. "W-what are you doing to me?" she choked.

"You're an Alpha now, Roni!" Madison laughed. "Being a hungry slut is a requirement."

"I'm a hungry slut..." Veronica echoed. The image of Madison's lips had been replaced by the pink folds of her pussy. Tears streamed down Veronica's cheeks as she pulled the skirt of her dress up, exposing her naked, dripping pussy.

"This isn't right," Veronica gasped, her fingers rolling slowly over her swollen clit. "I need to tell my sisters..."

"Now, Roni," Madison sighed. "Why would you want to do that?"

"It's not right..." Veronica said between soft moans. Her eyes were closed, her tongue slipping out of her mouth. "I'm not right."

This was the problem with the smart ones. They were always fighting their conditioning.

"Listen: Roni," Madison said. Suddenly her voice was all Veronica could hear. "You're exactly what you're supposed to be. A living, breathing, slutty little fuckdoll. You've been that way you're whole life, you just couldn't see it. That feeling between your legs, that aching desire creeping over you, that pleasure beginning to spill over the edge? That's how your body responds to me. It only responds to me."

"Only you..."

"And you live for that feeling, don't you? You live for that reward."

"I do," Veronica's entire body melting at the sound of Madison's voice. "I fucking do..."

"I'm not going to make you do anything, Roni. You can go to your sisters now if you want to or," Madison paused, giving Veronica time to edge closer. She responded with a needy moan, her fingers picking up pace and pressure against her clit. "Or you can cum for me right now. You can't have it both ways, Roni."

Veronica whispered weakly, "Cum..."

"Speak louder, my dear."

"Please let me cum!"

"Cum for me," Madison growled.

"F-fuck!" Veronica's cries echoed beyond the closed doors of the conference room. They would be a whispered rumor in classrooms for the next week.

"Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck my pussy! Fuck my mind!" she screamed as her body tipped over the edge into total sexual release. "Anything! I'll do anything for you, Mistress! Take me, take my sisters! I don't fucking care, I just need to obey!"

"They'll join you in time," Madison laughed. "But for now I need you on that council. When you're cleaned up, come to the house for further education."

"Yes, Mistress Madison," Veronica said through deep breaths.

"Alpha is everything," Madison said.

"There is only Alpha."

Madison's phone slipped absently from her hand and bounced off of the bedroom carpet. Her voice joined a chorus of moans bouncing off of the walls. Surrounding her were the slick, naked bodies of her properly mind-fucked Alpha sisters, partaking in their new evening ritual.

The girls were handpicked nightly by Madison and, between turns buried in their Mistress' pussy, paired off to fuck each other senseless.

It may not have been what Claire Petruzzi envisioned for her sorority when she drafted the house's mission statement that past summer, but down on the carpet grinding on Caroline Bishop's face, she didn't seem to mind. Both were eager to play a role in Madison's new design.

Sinking low into the armchair in the corner, the freshman Carla had her legs spread for upperclassman Gracie. Carla had recently undergone her own education and was taking full advantage of the household perks. Gracie was on her knees before Carla, proudly lapping at the young pledge's pussy. Carla lost track of the orgasms. They wrapped back around until it felt like a permanent state of pleasure. She bent her head back and moaned: "Obey. Serve. Fuck. Alpha."

On the opposite end of the bedroom, Angelica was paired off with another underclassman, Ashley. They were moving slower, but were just as starved for each other's bodies. Ashley had Angelica on her back, her hand exploring Angelica's wet pussy while her lips suckled at her tits.

"Just like that, baby," Angelica whispered. "Show me how well you obey."

And of course, at the center of it all was Madison Wells. She was down on the bed, her favorite Alpha pledge between her legs. But it wasn't just the feeling of Tina's tongue on her clit that made her cum—it was everything. The sex, the satisfied sounds of her conquests, Veronica's mantras repeated over the phone. She could feel the power washing over her as the orgasm hit her and she cried out just like any other Alpha.

The naked bodies of her sisters in twisted ecstasy appeared like dancing shapes through her blurred vision.

"A kingdom," Madison said quietly.

Tina looked up through glassy eyes, her chin dripping sex. "What was that my Mistress?"

"A kingdom," Madison repeated. "I don't want a sorority, or a school, or a campus. I want a kingdom."

#hypnokink #mind control #brainwashed #series: alphas #hypno story #i felt bad that most of this post was goofy sorority drama and i uh i may have overcorrected in the back half

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