#fucked up my sleep to write this cause this rat won't leave my brain

[mosaickiwi]

Everything and Anything

I got too goofy about this kink ask with aftercare. [REDACTED] is ~so~ poggers for basic human decency (I am completely serious). An eventful evening leads into soft and silly aftercare. 1k-ish words, GN reader.

cw// sexual content in nature (nothing explicit), non-specific kinks implied and mentioned, degradation and impact play/spanking specifically mentioned, allusions to neglectful aftercare

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

~

You had some vague idea of how things would go. By now, you knew your dark-haired boyfriend never held back in his dedication to your comfort—but you hadn’t expected this. Who knew your casual comments about a few kinks would lead to treatment better than royalty?

Endless conversations of boundaries and what was to come had slotted into the previous week during your nightly pillow talks. Each more thorough than the last, as [REDACTED] always came prepared with research and more questions. They'd even brought a strangely long list of potential degrading pet names for you to decide on—some in languages you didn't speak. Eventually, he was satisfied to put an end to what you were sure being interrogated felt like. That is, if the interrogator saw fit to cuddle and kiss the criminal into a confession.

So the fateful night came, and all had gone well. You had the sore muscles and countless bite marks to prove it. It was what came after that made you feel akin to something worthy of heavenly worship. 

Once you were both dried off from a much needed—and breathtakingly intimate��bath, [REDACTED] began taking inventory of you. Gentle fingers glided over your naked form as he stood behind you, lingering at every mole, mark, and reddened imprint of teeth. He noticed all the small reactions of your body at certain placements of his careful touch, gaze focused on your visage in the mirror while you brushed your teeth. They couldn’t help but bestow a feather light kiss to each spot you barely tensed at to serve as silent apologies.

"Ren," you said once you'd spit your mouthful of toothpaste into the sink. "I told you I'm fine."

Blue eyes pointedly met yours in his reflection. "Really? Y'so sure after that punishment you wanted?" Their hand moved from your hip to lightly pat your bare ass, taking note of the whining gasp you let out. "'Wonder how you're gonna do that little front desk job tomorrow."

"It probably won't hurt by then," you insisted with a rather unsure shrug. As you set your toothbrush next to his untouched one, you looked back at him. "Not gonna brush your teeth?"

"Not quite yet. 'M relishing in the taste of you, Angel." They sensually licked their lips for dramatic effect.

Your nose wrinkled. "I love you, but that's so gross." Still, you raised up on your toes to kiss him, nasty as he was.

~

Dressed in your favorites among their clothes, you were splayed out on your stomach over the bed sheets—in hopes to save your admittedly sore ass come morning. You stared up at your overly doting hacker, who'd resigned himself to playing with your hair in silence. Your mind only wandered at his caress.

You couldn't imagine how you'd gotten so lucky to be their first and only. 

Hours had passed since that intense encounter, and he hadn't left your side except to get things you meekly asked for—it was impossible to ask too much, he'd reminded you. A blanket to warm up, a hot drink to soothe your tired throat, a gentle massage to relax you, and even gentler words of reassuring praise as you'd bathed together in steamy water and afterglow. Their soft, loving touch to bring you to quiet bliss once again in their embrace as you soaked in the bath stayed settled in your mind. It almost completely overshadowed the rough treatment they had you pleading on the verge of tears about earlier.

His actions were above and beyond the bare minimum that others were elated to get. There were myriads of horror stories about terrible partners that completely withdrew after sex, and even more so when performing certain emotionally and physically vulnerable activities on their supposed loved one. You knew he’d never treat you in such a hurtful way. Despite that security, just the thought of it burdened you in the days leading up. To be left to your own devices after the things he whispered in your ear and did to your body—no matter how desperately you welcomed it all—would devastate you. 

"You know you mean the world t'me," he suddenly said, an uneasy frown on his face that brought you back to his focus.

Those words again. Words you'd heard plenty in your relationship, usually accompanied by an embarrassed shrug to explain away some bizarre habit of theirs you'd discovered, or a passionate kiss to soothe both you and themselves. You'd lost count of how much your lover repeated the sentiment tonight. He still must've been worried that you needed soothing in spite of his endless affections. 

You hadn't realized you were holding onto a frown of your own. "I know," you spoke his name with resounding devotion and a soft smile, "You mean the universe to me."

Familiar pink blossomed in surprise on his cheeks, but he quickly caught on to your game. "Y'mean everything to me, Angel. ‘Love you more than anything."

"You mean—" His thumb pressed over your lips to silence you. It was completely stunning. They'd hardly ever stopped you from speaking before, even if it was to scold them.

"Whatever you're trying t'one up me with is already included in everything. So you’re not beating me here," he explained, smug as could be while he loomed ever closer. Ticklish kisses came littered along your cheeks and anywhere else he managed to reach, further encouraged by your laughs of protest.

You successfully wriggled out from their grasp after a few torturous moments. You felt flushed, clothes in disarray from their calculated attack. As you tugged up the sheets to hide under, you teasingly tossed a pillow at him. "Go get me some water, asshole."

He was happy to let the pillow hit him square in the face for your satisfaction. "Anything for you, my love."

[zodiacmac]

For the love of God what happens at the end of trailer trash!???!?? If you won't come bank to it will you just tell me where you saw the characters going next like a breif summary of what would happen next. PLEASE I need to know

okay, so turns out i actually had 2,800 words before i abandoned this LMFAOO. i do not remember writing this at all, but just for you, here’s what it was going to be. 

harry thinks he and louis have a sort of unspoken agreement about their relationship. he’s not sure if louis is aware of this though - because it’s, well, unspoken and all.

ever since louis had that little breakdown (louis squeezing his eyes shut so harry couldn’t see him crying even though it was obvious he had been), harry’s been walking on eggshells around him. it’s a little nerve-wracking because he thinks louis might need him to be a better friend, but he isn’t sure how to be.

harry’s sitting in class, twiddling his thumbs and staring at the clock on the wall, waiting for the day to end. he used to like going to private school before he knew louis - he’s friends with everybody here, has to be since he’s known them all since he was six. 

it’s so bad that every year when they start a new class, everybody knows where to sit without being told, because the teachers always go by last names. so harry is always on the opposite side of the room from nick. 

not that it matters, because they always text during class. harry met nick because nick dated his sister gemma before he realized he was gay. gemma graduated a few years before and still chatted with nick on facebook when she wasn’t working. 

nick’s wearing a light wash denim jacket over his uniform sweater and has a few pins in it, one pink peace sign given to him by gemma.  

he hears something buzzing. 

harry’s arm shoots down his pocket as he tries to silence his vibrating phone, but it’s too late. he glances down at it with a furrowed brow. 

louis picking u up 2day?

“harry,” mr. loomis sighs, walking over to him and holding out his hand. harry groans. “no- please-“ 

“you can pick this back up after detention today.” mr. loomis looks at the screen of harry’s phone and harry grins, already knowing what’s coming. “nicholas?" 

mr. loomis asks, "i take it you’ll be joining harry in detention? wonderful choice. phone, please." 

nick moans aloud, slumping over in his desk, and causing several of their classmates to giggle. harry sticks his tongue out at nick and nick waits til their teacher turns around to put their phones in his desk before he flips harry off. harry hears perrie laughing loudly from two rows in front of him. 

"shit,” he mutters. he was supposed to be meeting louis after school and now he had no way to tell louis he was going to be late. 

he rips out a piece of notebook paper and scrawls a note to perrie messily on it, asking her to tell zayn to tell louis what’s happened. he passes it to the kid next to him (who’s had bad acne since they were literally nine) with the name pez written on it and underlined so nobody else reads it. 

by the time it gets to perrie, harry can tell someone’s drawn a dick or two on it and there’s also a piece of chewed gum stuck inside. although harry would have once found this hilarious, he know finds it aggravating. 

perrie gives harry a thumbs up and then folds the note into a paper airplane and chucks it at the girl next to her (probably the gum instigator). she shouts like she’s been shot and mr. loomis whips around and, lo and behold, gives her detention. 

“fuck,” she mouths to harry, wincing, “i’m sorry.”  

-

harry buries his head in his jacket as soon as they sit down in the cafeteria. because the school is so tiny, only needing to encompass about eighty students, there’s no place for detention other than the same place they eat in. 

well, technically, they could use the basement, which is what the school used to used before formaldehyde was discovered. harry prefered the cafeteria anyway - there were no melting, waxy pictures of the virgin mary glaring at him on the walls there. 

harry lifts his head to see nick sitting across from him, rolling his eyes at harry. “don’t give me that look,” nick says, “this is for your own good, anyway." 

"what is that supposed to mean?” harry says sharply. 

nick shrugs. “i knew your phone was on vibrate." 

perrie comes up and drops two heavy books loudly on the table and sits next to harry just as harry leans over and punches nick hard in the shoulder. "what the fuck?” he asks. 

nick glares. “i’m just saying, maybe you shouldn’t be hanging out with him so much." 

harry gapes. "are you-” he pauses, stunned, “sabotaging me?" 

perrie watches on cheerfully, biting into an apple. "you guys, the cafeteria is still open. there’s no line." 

nick ignores her, leaning over the table and lowering his voice. "you’ve got no fucking respect for yourself! he’s never going to-" 

"who are we talking about?” perrie asks, frowning. 

“nobody!” harry practically shouts. 

“louis,” nick says softly. 

“oh, i didn’t know you knew him,” perrie says to nick, smiling innocently.

“he doesn’t!” harry cries. “and i don’t want yor fucking advice!" 

nick folds his arms across his chest. "you know i’m not sabotaging you. god, don’t be such a drama queen. i’m trying to keep you from making a mistake-" 

"is there anything i can do?” perrie asks, looking very uncomfortable. she’s already started to stand and leave the table before either of them answer. 

“look,” harry says, rubbing his forehead, “you don’t know him. there’s - things he does -”

nick interrupts him. “are you sure that’s not just you looking for something that’s not there?" 

harry groans and runs one hand through his hair. "he lets me rub his feet." 

nick’s eyebrows cinch. he pulls back, laughs, and says, "what?" 

"yeah. actually yesterday he asked me to." 

nick stares. "the guy you showed me pictures of on your phone with the rat tail and- fucking leather jacket- asked you to rub his feet?" 

harry flushes. "yeah." 

nick blows air out of his mouth noisily. "wow. maybe you do have a shot." 

-

"so what?” gemma asks. she sounds like she’s not really paying attention. 

“are you filing your nails or something?” harry asks, holding his phone to his ear while he’s in the bathroom. there’s only five minutes more of detention, but he managed to get his phone back early by saying his sister was going into labor. which- wasn’t really true. 

“he hasn’t even made a move. what are you doing with him today?” she asks slyly, “going to see his ant farm?" 

harry groans in frustration. "would you let a girl rub your feet?" 

"i don’t know, sure,” gemma shrugs, “why not?" 

"it’s, like, in pulp fiction,” harry whines, “you know, like when they say a foot massage is, like, a sex act?" 

"well, they said it’s like cunillingus, harry,” gemma snorts. “you planning on giving louis cunillingus?" 

"don’t say ‘cunillingus’,” harry moans. “and i’m trying to come to you for your insight." 

"i have girl insight, haz.” gemma must be blow-drying her hair because there’s some sort of noise coming from her end. “if louis’ dick shrivels up and falls off his body, let me know. until then, i have a shoot to go to." 

harry rolls his eyes. gemma is living out in california temporarily trying to find roles in movies and modelling on the side to make money. 

"fine. you suck. goodbye.” harry hangs up. 

-

“where have you been?” louis asks when harry jerks open the door to the truck. he’s sitting in there with one hand resting on the bottom of the steering wheel, the other hand laying on the inside of his own thigh. harry stares. 

“detention.” he easily gets up into the truck without having to step up on the foot guard first, which louis always has to. he throws his sports bag between louis and himself. 

“liar,” louis laughs. “you were probably tutoring some blind six year old girl who’s first language was spanish." 

harry rolls his eyes. "technically it’s your fault i got detention in the first place." 

"what?” louis smiles, shaking his head. he twists the key and starts the truck up. 

“nick texted me asking if you were picking me up and my phone went off in class." 

louis turns back to harry in disbelief. "so it’s my fault you can’t remember to shut your phone off?" 

"yeah,” harry sighs dramatically, “selective memory. your brain can only hold so many pieces of information at once, and you’ve been teaching me way too much about viruses and infections, so something had to go." 

"so i’m guessing you didn’t remember that my mom’s having her friends over tonight to sell those god awful purses?” louis is back to looking straight out at the road, and harry feels neglected. he wonders if it would be too much to ask louis to give him a foot rub right now. 

“uh, yeah,” harry says slowly, “that does sound familiar…." 

"well, where are we going, then?” louis asks. “zayn’s?" 

harry thinks. louis’ never seen his home before. he’s thought a lot about it - mostly because he doesn’t want louis to see it and think harry is bragging. 

because, truthfully, it’s very big. his mom’s been through two profitable divorces, the kind of settlements that come with houses and cars and child support. 

but louis has been complaining about his back a lot and it might be nice for him to sleep on a nice mattress, something nicer than the paper thin mattress in his trailer. 

"we can go to mine?” harry asks hopefully. 

louis squints. “why? is your mom going to be out?" 

"does she need to be?” harry laughs loudly. “what exactly were you planning?" 

louis scoffs and punches harry’s arm with one hand still resting softly on the wheel. "fag." 

harry ignores him. "so we can rent a movie and order in chinese, or something."  

"we can watch whatever you want if i can take a shower at your place,” louis promises. “my hair is nasty right now." 

"oh, is it?” harry asks, grinning. he rumages through his sports bag and pulls out his white velcro visor and sticks it on top of louis’ head. apparently harry has a large head, because the visor droops in louis’ face. 

“i’m trying to drive here, dickhead.” louis laughs and pulls it off, throws it at harry’s chest. he’s got stubble and, if harry looks close enough, chapped lips. his hair does look greasy, in that sexy, axe murderer type way. 

“what are you looking at?” louis asks roughly, fiddling with the radio to calm himself. harry can tell he’s on the precipice of another meltdown, so he thinks on his toes. 

shrugging, he plops the visor back on his own head. “the next serena willaims, obviously." 

louis laughs and his eyes crinkle, but his hand goes tight around the steering wheel suddenly. harry wants to grab it and hold it, but he looks out the window and pretends he doesn’t see. 

-

harry’s mom is still at work, so they sit on harry’s enormous plush couch to watch a movie. harry can feel louis’ terror from literally four feet away from him. louis is sitting as far from harry as he can without looking like he thinks harry might have a catchy airborne disease. 

he keeps glancing over at harry and then quickly looking away, licking his lips. harry is beyond confused, but decided to let louis move at his own pace at whatever he’s working out in his head. 

it isn’t until he looks down and sees that louis looks a little stiff in his loose sweatpants that he even considers it.

"hey,” harry says softly, patting his lap. 

louis manages a blank expression before scooting closer to harry and throwing one foot in harry’s lap, then looking back to the tv screen.  

louis’ foot is so hot compared to how cold harry’s hands have gone. he wraps one hand around louis’ foot, swallowing hard. his hand fits all the way around louis’ whole foot way too easily - louis’ feet are tiny. 

he’s so hard and so afraid louis will notice and pull away, but he tries not to move, though his dick strains straight up against his stomach in his pajama pants.

louis jerks his foot out of harry’s hand, and harry thinks he’s done something wrong until louis runs his toes up harry’s crotch. 

“pull yourself out,” louis says, looking at him oddly. “harry?” he asks, and harry realizes louis actually wants him to respond. 

he quickly yanks his pajama pants down enough to get his dick out before louis changes his mind. “yes?” harry chokes out when louis licks his lips and stares blankly at harry’s dick. 

“you’ve got a nice dick,” louis says wistfully. “i cant tell if - if i wish mine looked like that, or i just like it on you. its confusing." 

harry doesn’t really know what to say. he opens his mouth to crack a joke, but louis smears harry’s pre-cum onto harry’s stomach with his toes and he gets cut off. 

harry looks down, panting, so his chin is pressed against his chest, looking at his own dick and louis’ foot rubbing up and down against it. his dick aches, stiff against his skin.

"you shave?” louis says nonchalantly, like hes asking if it’s going to rain. “that’s bizarre.”

harry gasps when louis’ foot catches the slit. he nods frantically, not sure if he’s answering louis’ question or just nodding to egg louis on. he clenches his legs so he can rock his hips up towards louis’ foot as he tries to fuck against it without much progress. 

“can you get off like this?” louis asks, amazed. 

harry finally unclenches his legs and groans, hair falling in his face as he grabs louis’ foot and holds the ball of it against his shaft, slowly moving it until he’s shaking and gasping, still trying to hold on a bit longer, still leaking onto his own stomach and making a mess.

he forgets to look back up at louis, so immersed in louis’ foot, that when louis finally speaks again, he’s caught off guard. 

“are you gonna shoot all over yourself?” louis snorts, sounding disappointed, not even trying to turn him on. when harry looks back up at him, louis is giving him a judgemental look and that’s what does it for him. his eyes roll back as he pumps out, with louis moving his foot again to help him. 

louis wipes his wet foot off on harry’s clothed thigh and brings his foot back to the carpet. 

“do you want-” harry starts to ask eagerly, raising his hand to signal a handjob. louis shakes his head violently. “nah." 

-

"why did your bed cave in? did i break it?” louis asks, frowning. his palm is pressing into harry’s mattress and when he lifts his hand, the mattress shows the indent still. 

harry laughs. “it’s memory foam." 

"is this the kind of bed kim kardashian sleeps on?” louis asks, now punching the mattress earnestly to see it leave the shape of his hand.  

“remind me not to piss you off,” harry jokes, looking at louis’ brutal attack on his bed. louis takes out his phone and scrolls through it, frowning again. "what is it?“ harry asks. 

"nothing,” louis sighs, “my sister is saying her ex is dating some new girl already and that she sounds pretty." 

"you think an actual human would go out with him? i bet he reinflates her when he gets home from work." 

louis chuckles, looking fondly at harry. "try telling her that, though.”

“i will.” harry pulls out his own phone and begins typing a message to lottie. 

“what the hell?” louis asks, “you have her number?" 

"mmm,” harry says passively. he tries not to grin at how angry louis sounded at this news, feeling pleased with himself. 

-

harry leans up against his headboard, starting to nod off with his head propped up by his huge mass of pillows his mom had bought for him. he’s so close to falling asleep when louis turns the volume up on his tv, waving the remote around in his hand. 

“how many fucking channels do you get?” louis sneers in mock anger, but the way he excitedly goes to the guide once again tells harry that he’s not really jealous. 

harry shrugs sleepily, head drooping. “put whatever you want on. sorry if i fall asleep." 

he actually does fall asleep almost immediately after warning louis, exhausted from his horrible day at school and from louis’ amazing foot job. he startles awake later not knowing how much time has passed. his room is now almost pitch black except for the light radiating from the tv. 

his vision is blurry from sleep, so he rolls over facing away from louis, intending to go back to bed. then he starts hearing the noises. soft moans coming from the tv on the other side of his room. 

it sounds like a girl and a guy, but harry doesn’t even know if louis is awake or not to hear it. maybe he rolled over on the remote in his sleep and changed the channel to porn by mistake?

——————-

okay, so after the last part cut off, i’m pretty sure they were going to either jerk off in the same bed, or harry was just going to watch louis jerk off, i can’t remember. i should have just finished the fic, i hadn’t realized i had already written half of it LMFAOO.