#if it’s spread so thin it’s not even remotely worth it

[juniperhillpatient]

Does anyone have any tips for managing streaming service subscriptions? For a long time now I’ve been subscribing to whatever whenever & unfortunately my tv just lets me, like I just have to talk to it I don’t even have to sign up. And now I just have so ridiculously many subscriptions hurting my finances it’s awful & I still have to pay to rent anything I ever actually wanna watch because the market is spread so fucking thin so it’s not even like it’s worth it. But I have no idea where to start sitting down & unraveling which ones I genuinely use enough to be worth it & which to delete or how many I even really have so I just…. let it build & it’s. Actually really bad lol 🥲

[fumikoshi]

CONFESSİON

✧ — SUMMARY; You confess your love for him while you both were watching TV

✧ — CONTENT; 18+ ONLY // MDNI — fem! civilian reader, nicknames, size kink, fingering, oral (f! receiving), everyone is of legal age, dirty talk

"I-I love you, Gojo-kun..."

Gojo froze, his grip on the remote loosening as he took a moment to process your confession. A wicked smile spread across his lips, and he leaned in, cupping your soft, delicate face in his large hands. The contrast in your sizes was astonishing, but it only made his desire for you burn hotter.

"That's what I've been waiting for~"

he whispered, his voice husky with lust, as he claimed your soft lips in a searing kiss. His large hands roamed your small body, squeezing your cute ass, pulling you closer to him as he devoured your lips hungrily. He nibbled on your lower lip gently before breaking away, his gaze dark with need as he stared deeply into your eyes.

"But I want more, Y/N-Chan. Show me how much you love me by letting me fuck you. I won't stop until you scream my name."

He breathed against your ear, his hot breath sending shiver down your spine as he roughly grabbed your shirt, tearing it open to reveal your plump, big tits. They bounched in sync when gojo teared your shirt. Gojo licked his lips to this view.

Your heart raced as his lips met yours. Your eyes fluttering closed as you allowed herself to be consumed by the intensity of the kiss. You couldn't help but whimper as his hands explored your delicate body, feeling so small and vulnerable in his grasp. You loved him so much... eversşnce you met him at tah bakery.

"I… I don't know if I can… " you stuttered, her voice barely above a whisper, unsure of what she was getting herself into.

Gojo's grip tightened on your body, a hint of amusement flashing in his eyes. He smirked at your embrassement

"Don't be shy, don't be shy, sweetie~ all of your emrassement will disappear when I put my cock inside your wet cunt and you'll see how wonderful and fulfilling it can be."

His voice was filled with amusement, and laced with promises of pleasure that seemed to entice you even further.

You hesitated, your eyes flicking between Gojo's intense gaze. A part of you still resisted, but another, more primal part of you hungered for the experience he offered.

"O-okay, Gojo-kun... but please be kind to my body... this is my first time..."

Gojo's eyes softened, a twisted smirk forming on his lips.

"Don't worry, Y/N-chan~ You'll love it. I promise I'll make it worth your while."

As he laid you down on the bed, he gently removed yout sweet pink pantie, revealing your delicate, untouched cunt. He kissed you all over, nibbling on your earlobes, back and tits. His tongue traced the outline of your nipples, causing you to gasp and shiver in delight.

You felt so exposed and vulnerable, but there was comfort in the way he treated you, promising you that this would be special.

Gojo eased your thin legs apart slowly, leaving your pink, puffy lips exposed to the air. He kissed your soft inner thighs, teasing you, trying to build the anticipation.

He could smell your arousal, the scent driving him wild. He moved closer to your wet entrance, his tongue dipping into your aweet wetness. You tasted divine. You arched back, cute moans escaping from your lips as you felt sensations you'd never experienced before.

He continued to feast on you, his large hands gripping yourhips tightly. His tongue licked your cunt, making you writhe beneath him. After a while, he pulled away, his eyes filled with lust.

his large fingers moving lower, brushing against ypur wet folds. His touch sent shivers through your small body, and you arched back and squirmed cutely, unable to contain your growing desire for him.

"Relax, Y/N-chan. Give in to me." He growled, his voice a deep rumble as he pushed two fingers inside her, eliciting a gasp.

"Ah~!"

You bit your lip, the pleasure and pain mingling together as Gojo's fingers probed your cunt, stretching you in preparation for his massive cock with his thick fingers. Wet sounds filled the room.

Your eyes pleading with him to take you, to make you and your body his. Your heart racing, voice small and trembling. "Gojo-kun, please-ah~"

Gojo smirked and removed his fingers from your wet cunt

"Fufu~ needy girl, hungry for cock~*

He positioned his cock at your wet, slick entrance, his throbbing and veiny erection demanding entry. He looked down at her, a predator ready to claim his prey. "You'll never forget this moment, Y/N-chan. This is when you truly become mine."

With that, he thrust into you, his large cock filling you completely, stretching you in ways you never thought possible.

He watced as your eyes widened in surprise, your small body tense up. He began to thrust, his pace steady and slow at first, allowing her body to adjust to his size. You cried out, your body bucking against him. Her virginşty was being taken, and she could feel every inch of him filling her up.

As Gojo's pace increased, her moans grew louder, accompanying the smacking sounds of their bodies colliding. His cock moved in and out of your cunt, stretching and filling you with his size. Your small body trembled beneath him. The room echoed with the wet slapping sounds of their bodies colliding,

You whimpered cutely, a mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through your small frame. Your pussy clenched around him, your body attempting to adjust to the unfamiliar sensation.

Gojo paused, savoring the tightness of your tight walls before he began to move again, thrusting into your used cunt with a slow, measured pace, allowing ypur delicate body to grow accustomed to his large cock.

As the initial pain subsided, You found yourself ecoming more receptive to the rhythmic movements. Your hips moved in tandem, your body craving his.

His big hands grabbed your soft ass and started kneading it softly

"Good girl~ ngh..."

He moaned slightly when he felt your pussy tightened around his cock, your wetness coating his length.

His pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more aggressive, his large cock pounding into your with reckless abandon. You cried out, your voice high-pitched and strained, your body writhing beneath him as you approached you climax.

Gojo felt the familiar tingling in his balls as he neared his own release. He reached down, his large hand gripping Ume's small one, intertwining their fingers as he drove himself deeper into her.

"Scream my name while I'm fucking you."

Your body tensed, your eyes rolling back in your head as an intense orgasm washed over you. Your tight walls clamped down on Gojo, milking his cock mercilessly, driving him closer to his own climax.

"Satoru! Satoru! Ah~! I love you so much"

Your screams only served to push him over the edge, and with a roar, he filled your tight pussy with his hot seed, claiming you fully as his own.

Your bodies shuddered in sync, the culmination of your intense encounter leaving you both breathless and spent. Gojo collapsed beside you, his cock still buried deep inside you, as he tried to catch his breath. His fingers trailed along your sweat-slicked skin, his thumb brushing against her chin to lift her face to meet his gaze.

"I love you too, Y/N-chan..."

He said, his voice soft and filled with desire and love, He leaned in, capturing your soft lips in a tender kiss, his large hand still intertwining with yours. For you, world had changed forever. The strongest sorcerer who is the love your life claimed your virginity and in doing so, had given you a pleasure you had never before experienced.

You wrapped your small arms around his thick neck, clutching at him tightly, your body still quivering from your intense orgasm.

Slowly he put his arms around your delicate body and pressed you tightly to his muscular chest, buried his face in your neck and kissed gently, and soon you fell asleep. He smiled slightly when he felt your soft breathing.

"I love you, Y/N. And I'll protect you untill I die..."

[cyberrat]

76th Batch Of Fics: 9th Fill

Cazador/fem!Tav – Part ⅓ – pre-established Tav/Astarion; rape/non-con; blood drinking; forced impregnation; changing POVs – Cazador got his hands on Tav and Asterion. He just wants to play. What's so wrong with that?

(disclaimer: dunno if vampires can actually impregnate anybody in canon lore; just accept that it is possible now for horny reasons lol)

---

As the door opens, Astarion surges forward in his bindings despite himself. He fancies himself a person with manners and a good bit of education but Cazador’s smug visage simply brings out the beast in him.

“Oh shush, you. You’re going to wake this precious little snack with your barking and growling. Do you want me to get out a slipper and discipline you like the dog you are?”

Astarion’s blood boils. He surges forwards yet again, the bindings around his wrists biting into his skin. His stomach churns with hatred as he watches Cazador softly close the door behind him and wandering closer to observe his two captives; chained in different corners of the room, Astarion staring at him with abject hate and Tav… well. She is still out cold.

He will change that in a moment.

“You are worth less than the dirt beneath my boots,” Astarion hisses. He keeps baring his fangs at Cazador – as if that would intimidate him. As if anything this little doll could do were able to even remotely stop Cazador in his tracks.

“I am, am I?” he asks silkily, wandering toward the corner of the lovely unconscious Tav. The closer he gets, the more Astarion tenses up. Oh, how fun… he always is so precious when he’s in heat and looked for other dogs he can mate with. “I am not the one in chains, though. As I am not the one that will sit like a good boy and watch as I mate with his bitch and pump my litter into her belly.”

He squats next to Tav, grabbing her by the hair and pulling her head up so Astarion may see her slack, unresponsive face.

Astarion’s cheeks flush a ruddy, angry red. His hands become like claws as he pushes into his chains, trying to rip them bodily out of the stone.

“You would not dare.” His voice is low and growling. Quite intimidating, Cazador is sure – if he weren’t so utterly, undeniably, hilariously outmatched by his Master. He is but an unruly child that will learn his lesson once and for all today.

Cazador smiles at him close-lipped and mild. With a flick of his wrist, Tav’s chains fall away, allowing him to lift her up bridal-style and move toward the large, ostentatious bed in the middle of the room.

He has taken care to treat his newest puppies to a gorgeous room.

“Look around, Astarion. Enjoy your stay. For after tonight, you will go back into your coffin.” He waits just a moment, watching the dawning realization make its way onto Astarion’s face before he continues with unholy glee: “I might let you out again, though… in nine months, I think. When you can admire the fruits of my labor.” He sits himself down with Tav on his lap, his hand spreading across her naked stomach. “It’s so irresistibly flat. Oh, I can feel the muscle. She’s a tough one, isn’t she? She could probably stem you with a hand. It’s what you enjoy so much in this little tryst you have going with her. Oh yes… I can read you like a Children’s book, you know.”

He turns his face toward her, deeply inhaling the scent of her blood thrumming just beneath her delicate, thin skin. Arousal prickles over his scalp, his cock starting to fatten beneath his robes.

Astarion inhales shakily, no doubt about to explode once again, but Cazador interrupts him smoothly: “She’ll grow soon. It will be a pleasure to watch, I am sure. I am far more partial to a nice plump stomach anyway…”

Astarion’s face twists, then looks like it is about to crumple.

Cazador pauses, fascinated by the sight. Would the beast stoop even lower and start to cry? The possibility has a shot of warmth rushing through his body. Astarion is always good for a neat little surprise, it seems.

When the dog speaks, his voice has gone softer, though scratchy with desperation as he begs his beloved: “Tav… Tav, wake up, damn it!”

Cazador smiles. His hands wander, sliding up to cup the heavy teats, thumbs dragging across their tight peaks. “Oh you wish for her to be awake for this? What an excellent idea! It shall not be said that Cazador will not honor the wishes of his guests.”

He leans in, allowing himself a few slow, dragging kisses against her neck and the artery pulsing strongly beneath her warm skin before focusing on his magic for but a brief moment.

Tav’s arms lift up obediently until her body is just about lifting from his lap. He then lets a silky robe curl around her wrists and ankles.

“I will kill you,” Astarion grits out between clenched teeth. His eyes are positively sparking with hatred, body coiled tight like a snake’s, ready to strike at the first possible moment… only that he is bound in his corner like the dog he is.

Cazador laughs, genuinely amused by his antics. It reminds him of why he made him his slave in the first place. A beautiful young man in the prime of his life… so easy with his affections and thinking so very highly of himself…

He looks older in his agony, though. There are lines on his face, his cheeks looking more sunken than usual as he leans into his bindings, hoping against hope that he might break himself loose after all. “No… I won’t just kill you, I will rip you apart and make sure you live through it for as long as possible.”

“MMhh how gruesome,” Cazador croons. He’s gently patting Tav’s cheek until she starts to hum low, her head rolling from left to right in disorientation. She’s waking up and the sight has Astarion shutting up real fast.

He finally sits back on his ass, his eyes so large and hurt – it is quite a delectable sight.

If Cazador weren’t so excited for Tav’s impending impregnation, he would certainly consider taking his little show pony for a ride. Astarion’s body surely would still remember him fondly…

“Mmnnhh… w… what?”

Tav is still groggy. Cazador is not sure what she might remember at all between being on the road and waking up in this room, naked and bound, but her tired confusion is very delicious indeed. While most of her weight is now hanging by her arms – an uncomfortable sensation for sure – he can still feel her slowly tensing as she takes in more and more of the situation she finds herself in.

He is quiet, just enjoying the show while his cock feels heavy and hard against his thigh.

It is possible to pinpoint the exact moment that she sees and recognizes Astarion bound in the corner. Her body sways naturally forward and toward him, his name stuttered out by her in confusion before she realizes that she can, in fact, not move the way she wants to.

Her breath hitches. Cazador can hear her blood rushing faster through her veins. Her agitation is palpable, sweetening the scent of her blood. He feels like he would be able to taste it through her skin if he were to lick her now.

Slowly, oh-so-slowly, Tav starts to turn her head until she manages to peer over her shoulder and right into his eyes.

He smiles at her, fingers dancing in a light tickle across her stomach. “Welcome back to the waking world, my love. I am sure you will find it much to your liking once you have come to terms with your situation.”

[wisdomshoes]

you cant transition in in anyway or even do androgyny unless you're pretty. people that tell you to love yourself and "love for all" dumb shit like that drop all their support for your identity the moment they wouldn't classify you as "pretty", "cute" or "hot". some of them try to cover up their hypocrisy by complimenting out of pity, which is always great to know that you just by having a certain identify deserve pity. fucking first world rich kids i hate all of you.

I wanna say that because of this you can't let other people define you or something like that, but if I preach what I don't practice does that really make me any less of a stupid piece of shit hypocrite than all of you? no matter how many times you people say love your trans friends among yourselves I can never feel even remotely okay about myself because i see through your thin veil of lies and hypocrisy you spread between you and your hot friends. everyone always assumes I'm too fucking stupid to see through their lies and manipulation and any fucking bullshit they throw at me and I almost never speak up cuz you're never worth the effort it'd take to, but I see you. I see right through what you want to convince the world you are. I see you.

I just don't say anything and then have a mental vreakdown in drafts at 5 fucking am I can't sleep I want to swallow a razor but in so tired I hate you do much I hate you I hate you i hate you I went your deaths broadcasted live on television so I can turn it off and make a sandwich or something

[acidcaught-a]

“ i didn’t know where else to go. “

" don't worry about it kid. " with one muscled arm, he pumps the shotgun to prime it for fire. two bullets are all he needs with such a weapon, given the spread and force behind them. if anyone were to follow, they'd meet the end of the barrel, and fast. bruce would argue this is not the way to go, but harvey thinks alfred would not mind. it's one of the three weapons in the suite, and the only one that doesn't fit in the safe.

harvey's hand presses a panic button - one installed without his knowledge but welcome nonetheless. thin but strong, steel covers slide down over the windows and the blinds, so those outside cannot see what security is within. after doing so, he falls back into his recliner, clicks the television remote to the news, and props the shotgun next to him by the wall. gotham's rain wasn't as loud as it could be so the noises from the world outside were easy to hear and decipher.

" take the uniform off, jason. " he didn't want to talk to the vigilante. he wanted to talk to the boy. harvey sips his evening nightcap before rising from the chair, having changed his mind. he walks over to where jason stands and puts one hand on his shoulder. harvey has always been very tall, but jason might be catching up. " i don't care what shit you've gotten into. my door is never locked to you or anyone else in the family for that matter. just don't tell alfred i let you drink. "

so maybe he contributes to the degeneracy of this generation's youth, but jason's old enough, surely. harvey isn't a good role model anymore. he's not worth it the faith and kindness others give him.

it's uncharacteristic, but it's an impulse harvey's learned that it's okay to obey. the older man wraps his arm around the other, and squeezes for the briefest of moments with his hand rustling jason's hair before he lets go. he says it's age that has made him find his softness again.

the golden mask he wears is on the table. harvey is nothing if not exposed.

" you're welcome to stay. place is too big for me anyway."

[ryanclaremont]

past always comes back.

Ryan’s week starts out decently normal. She stayed over at August’s place on Sunday night, bringing clothes for work even though all she wanted to do was stay in bed with him. Something’s shifted in a positive light and maybe that’s because their relationship has enhanced through intimacy and it’s brought them closer together. But Ryan knows that a good thing, a good step even though sometimes her thoughts get clouded with what if’s. Nonetheless, she feels pretty good.

Similarly at work, things are going smooth. Since the winter fest spread, it seems to have gotten positive responses as well. It’s no Italy but it’s something and Ryan things if more trips like this keep happening she can create her own portfolio to add onto the other projects she’s worked on. She has ideas bouncing in her head, researching other magazines, taking inspiration. Would Marissa send her overseas again? What about Spain or the Netherlands?

Ryan pops over to the coffee shop across from her office during lunch to grab something to drink and a baked good. She thinks August is busy this week with a shoot and that’s good news as well, him getting more awareness and job offers. She doesn’t want to bother him but she does send him a picture of her fall flavoured drink and this giant oatmeal chocolate chip cookie. 

“Ryan,”

She sends off the text and turns around, spotting the person who called her name. There’s an equal mixture of emotions coursing through her with confusion and dread. James’ brother, Lucas, walks towards her with this signature Cassidy smile that makes her want to through a punch because it’s the exact same as James’. A little big of cockiness and smug, but Lucas’ is a touch friendlier. 

“Hi Lucas,” Ryan greets to be polite. 

“How’ve you been?” He asks and has he always been taller than James? Maybe. “I wanted to reach out after...” he trails and Ryan looks away, taking a long sip of her coffee. “Just wanted to know how you’ve been.”

“I’m good,” she replies and it’s truthful. Ryan is good, she’s not upset about it anymore, she’s not wasting her energy on it. “I’ve gotta head back to work.”

Ryan moves but Lucas moves too, standing in front of her. “James is a dick for what he did, I know it’s not much coming from me but I’m sorry he hurt you.” Lucas rambles and God, what is she supposed to do with that? “But if you’re good, that’s great.”

Why does that sound so condescending? 

Ryan clears her throat and nods. “I’m fine, Lucas. Thanks for your apology but it’s not worth it. I’ve really gotta go now.”

“Okay,” he steps aside. “If you need anything, always here.”

Ryan nods, a thin smile coming then going as she stalks past him and pushes open the doors. It doesn’t dawn on her until an hour later that Lucas doesn’t work remotely close to her office. So what was he doing here?

[bokuroskitten]

𝔅𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔢

✠ pairing: Drummer Bokuto x Bassist Kuroo x Fan!reader

✠ word count: 1.9k

✠ warnings: 18+ content, MINORS DNI; dubcon (coercion/power imbalance), oral (m! receiving), cockwarming, use of a vibrator, double penetration (oral and v!), unprotected sex, creampie, branding (kuroo burns you with his cigarette)

❦ hello loves, this post is for @loveatsutani music festival collab Rolling Loud! This was so fun to write and definitely something different to what I’m used to! Check out the other wonderful writers right here. Please let me know what you all think! 

The clubs were always so loud, always so grungy. Sweat covered bodies always filled the small dance floor space. Pupils dilated and bodies being controlled by the music. Really you should find another hobby, rather than attending every one of these gigs.

But you’d never stop following them. Especially now. Now that they noticed you.

Now that they whisper “Our sweet little fangirl” when they rail you in their dressing room filled with the scent of cheap tequila and cigarettes.

Kuroo let out a puff of smoke from his lips, thick and slow as he let it fog up the air in the small space the three of you currently occupied. His thighs were spread wide, wide enough to give you enough space to crawl between them.

You kept your eyes on him the whole time, wide, teary, and so very eager to please. Finally he brought his gaze back down to you when you muffled around his cock, a bit of drool dripping down your chin and onto his balls.

“What is it? Jaw gettin’ tired?” Kuroo finally mumbled around his cigarette, his tattooed fingers combing through your hair. He looked down at you, watched you try to muffle a response with your mouth stuffed. He chuckled softly, fingers slowly curling into the hair at the nape of your neck as he looked back up at Bokuto.

The drummer was wrapping tape around his knuckles, bruised and battered from a night of heavy playing. When he realized Kuroo’s eyes on him he gave him a wink. “Baby’s getting impatient already, huh? Shame.”

You squirmed at that, the grip Kuroo now had on your hair keeping you in place as Bokuto approached. He noticed the way your thighs were already pressing together and couldn’t help but lift your skirt up with his foot.

“Ah, that’s why she’s getting so impatient. She’s dripping already.” Bokuto spoke with a grin. And he was right, your pussy was already puffy, glistening in the dim light of the dressing room. Kuroo pulled your panties from his pocket, threw them at Bokuto which made both musicians laugh. “M’ not surprised, her panties were already wet when she threw them at us on stage.”

“I’m sure the vibator helped too..” Bokuto said with a grin, pulling a little remote from his pocket. When he pressed the plus button on it you jolted a bit, moaning around Kuroo’s cock as the toy within you sped up.

Yes, the little toy had been in you all night. When they handed it to you at the end of their last gig they specifically said “You have to wear it to every show.” And who were you to deny your idols?

Finally Kuroo tugged on your hair, pulled you slowly off his cock until it slipped from your lips with a slick pop. His length was hard and wet as it smacked against your cheek. Your face was flush, drool still connecting your lips to his cock when Bokuto gave your cheek a couple of gentle pats.

“C’mon baby, gunna fuck ya now. You want that, don’t ya?”

They knew your answer, of course they did. You tried to speak, voice raspy and lips a little sore from the stretch. “Y-Yes please, please fuck me….”

“Jesus, you’re so fucking pretty.” Kuroo murmured, not wanting to waste another second. He lifted you up into the couch, ushered you onto your hands and knees. Bokuto lazily pulled his cock free from his jeans, tattooed knuckles working along his length as he situated himself in front of you.

“Show me those pretty tits.” He encouraged thick brows pulled together in amusement as you pushed your tank top down, enough for your breasts to spill free. “No bra huh? You’re always so ready for us baby.”

“Course she is, cause she’s our good little fangirl. Isn’t that right angel?” Kuroo spoke from behind you, lean fingers easing the still vibrating toy from your pussy. You nodded, lips lulling open for Bokuto’s cock as he jerked himself hard.

Bokuto actually laughed, seeing your watery eyes and your mouth hung. Guess being in a band really had it perks. He pushed his cock between your plush lips, groaning at the warmth your mouth offered him. All the while Kuroo pressed the vibe against your clit, making your cheeks hollow out around Bokuto.

“That’s it…” Bokuto spoke through gritted teeth, one of his palms grabbing at your breast to massage it as he sunk his cock into your mouth. He didn’t stop until he felt your nose brush against his trimmed pubic hair, the subtle feeling of your throat closing around him making him shudder.

Kuroo then decided it was his turn, cigarette still dangling from his lips as he pushed his cock between your welcoming folds. Your pussy was quick to swallow him up, velvet walls giving him a loving squeez as he bottomed out in you. Almost like he was the perfect fit.

“This cunt will never get enough of us, huh pretty?” Kuroo mumbled, giving your ass a lazy smack that had you jolting. Bokuto hummed in agreement, one hand firmly planted on the back of your neck so he could fuck into your mouth.

“She’ll always come back to us, our pretty little fangirl is never going to leave now that she’s gotten a taste.” Bokuto spoke through moans, the momentum of his hips into your mouth fucking you onto Kuroo’s cock.

And of course you took it all, despite the way Bokuto’s cock choked you every time it went into your throat, despite the way Kuroo filled up every inch of your pussy, despite the way your body sat on the edge of pleasure and pain due to the overstimulation.

You took everything they offered to you. You were their precious little fangirl after all, and all you wanted to do was show them just how much you loved them, supported them.

No matter what.

Bokuto gave your hair a little yank as your jaw began to tighten up, a small sigh leaving his lips. “You know better than that love, keep that mouth of yours slack.”

Once Kuroo’s cigarette was done he finally decided to thrust into your cunt. His eyes widened with some sort of sick pleasure as he pressed the end of his cigarette into your ass, watching the way it made your skin instantly turn red. You squealed around Bokuto, drool bubbling from your lips at the sudden pain on your ass.

“Shh baby, you’re okay you’re okay….” His fingers were gentle as they ran over the fresh burn, the smirk on his face only getting bigger when your pussy fluttered around his cock. “Gotta mark what’s our’s right? Don’t you want everyone to know you belong to us?”

Your eyes were shiny with tears now. You did your best to nod while your mouth was stuffed with Bokuto’s cock.

But they knew. They knew you’d take anything they gave you, and would accept anything they did to you.

Both males now had a steady pace, Kuroo held your ass cheeks apart to watch his cock sink in and out of your dripping cunt while Bokuto had his eyes squeezed shut. His balls slapped against your chin as his orgasm approached, a string of curses falling past his pierced lips.

“Fuck, swallow it baby. Swallow every drop.”

You did your best to relax your throat, tried to focus on Bokuto and the strings of warm cum he released into your mouth while Kuroo drilled into you.

You still managed to swallow his thick load down, sputtering around his cock and spitting drool down your chin.

“Good girl.” Bokuto sighed, his cock slipping from your lips. He wiped it over your cheek, considering it was already covered in spit, and grabbed at your jaw.

He tilted your head up, made sure there was no cum left on your tongue before he placed a soft kiss against your forehead.

“You always swallow every drop like a good girl. Now you gotta make Kuroo come. You can do that, can't you?”

Fat tears sat in your lashes as you desperately leaned into Bokuto’s warm touch. You always took every ounce of affection they offered you, even if it was in very small doses.

“Yes, yes I can. Want him to come inside.”

That had Kuroo growling, his hips suddenly picking up in a pace that had his heavy balls slapping against your clit.

“Oh yeah? Gonna let me cum inside are you? What a good girl. Letting me fill this tight hole full.”

His excitement was getting the better of him. In his right mind he knew it was a bad idea to finish in a fan, especially without protection on. But when you arch your back for him, stick your ass out further and look over your shoulder at him.

With those desperately pathetic eyes, lips almost in a pout.

All sense seemed to spill from his mind. Instead he just focused on the way your pussy squeezed him, milked him for everything he was worth.

All the while Bokuto squeezed your chest, littered bite marks and hickeys without a care of placement.

You wouldn’t hide them anyway. You wanted everyone to know you were theirs.

The grip Kuroo had on your ass was certainly going to leave bruises, but he couldn’t stop. Not when he was so close and you were moaning so perfectly. His hips snapped against your ass, making the skin ripple as he grunted put through gritted teeth.

“Take it, take every drop.”

When he spilled within your walls you sighed in relief, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks as he fucked it into you, deeper and deeper with each sloppy thrust. You had finished right along with him, the feeling of his cum filling you up enough to send you over the edge.

“Thank you, thank you thank you…” Your words were nothing but mumbles, pushed out between whines as Bokuto slowly released you and let you sink into the cushions. Kuroo was slow to pull out of you, his eyes glued to the thin ring of cum that sat at the base of his cock.

“Fuck me….” He spoke, nodding Bokuto over to watch as he spread your pussy open with two fingers, despite the way you tried to squirm away. Your hole was fluttering around nothing now, cum spilling from it and threatening to slip between your thighs.

But Bokuto didn’t allow that. Instead he used two fingers to push the mess back into your cunt, making you groan softly.

“My turn angel. You wanna be filled with both of us, don’t you?” He didn’t wait for your response before he started rubbing his cock between your slick folds, wetting his length for a smooth entrance.

But he didn’t need an answer. Your fucked out little smile was enough for him. You were their little fangirl after all, and what would be better than going back out into the crowd, a mixture of their cum dribbling down your trembling thighs

[tumbling-darkling]

You Can’t Punch a Ghost

AO3

A classic Danny Phantom and My Hero Academia Crossover where Danny ends up in Japan by accident and needs to figure out how to get back home. Easier said than done of course. It helps that Danny is ridiculously OP and may be able to help out during his time there.

Danny knew about natural ghost portals, how they were very random, rarely showed up outside of ectoplasmic hot spots, and mainly only affected the unluckiest of people in terms of tearing them from this familiar time and space and spitting them out into something completely different. He also knew the ones in the ghost zone were ones you don’t go in willingly unless you want to ditch the world you know so well and never want to be found again.

So imagine his goddamn surprise when one decides to fuck up his life before he even gets a chance to process what the fuck was happening.

“This is honestly a new low, I mean seriously. I was pretty sure I was going to die again from a heart attack when I saw your ugly face. I mean, it’s not as low as the whole cloning incident, which I am still rightfully pissed about,” Danny hissed, shooting an ectoray in Vlad’s general direction, “but watching me sleep? Didn’t you already plant enough cameras in my house to do that from your castle?”

“I was not watching you sleep, Daniel. I had simply shown up to wake you up,” Vlad hummed as he dodged the ray, finally slowing down after the long chase Danny had given after the froot loop.

“Oh, so now it’s your goal too to absolutely ruin my sleep schedule, huh? The rest of the ghosts already cause enough grief, and now you’re doing it too? I have you scheduled in for times after NOON. Go back to bed and let me get at least an hour's worth,” Danny groaned in annoyance. Did he seriously just drag him all the way out here to tell him he wanted to wake him up? He didn’t have to deal with this, honestly he never thought he would see the day that Vlad would stoop to his level of petty pranks.

“Aren’t you even remotely curious about what I have to say?” Vlad asked.

“Nope,” Danny replied bluntly. What a waste of time.

“What about the fact that the thin veil around amity is spreading?”

Danny pauses, then glanced over, “again. You chose to wake me up by staring at me, then dragged me all the way out here, to tell me that? There is a special device. Called cell phones. Which I have. Which you have the number of. That you could have used,” Danny spat in the most condescending tone he could muster.

“You would have just ignored my texts or calls.”

“Yeah. Because this doesn’t seem like my problem? Maybe the veil spreads on its own then returns to Amity? Like natural patterns or whatever. It’s not causing issues. The worst is that natural portals show up and ghosts slip through, but they just end up back in amity. Even if they didn’t, your little bounty proved there’s other, less competent, but other ghost hunters that will deal with it. Eventually. I’m going back to bed,” Danny spun around and aimed to head back home.

He was surprised by the plasma ray to his back that shot him out of the sky with a yelp as he crashed to the ground. He snarled, taking Vlad’s invitation to fight as he shot back into the sky and threw an ectoplasmic punch into his gut. Vlad split into clones before Danny managed to land a punch and blasted him again, “you have no respect for responsibility, I was giving you a chance to prove yourself and you threw it away like the child you are. How you managed to obtain-!”

Danny shot a series of rays into Vlad’s clones, destroying them before he tackled the real one with a snarl, cutting him off, “oh fuck off with your tests! I don’t answer to you! You aren’t my dad, my mentor, or anything I will ever respect! Get that through your thick skull you psychotic froot loop!” Vlad grabbed him by the arm and threw him off, but that wasn’t very effective as Danny just spun in the air and slammed right back into the asshat, sending them both backwards and through something… that sent off a chill that ran down Danny’s spine.

Danny barely registered what he just did when Vlad slammed him against a building and disappeared, Danny’s vision swimming as his powers shorted out from the sudden pain and he reverted back to Fenton. Then he dropped into an open dumpster below him, hearing multiple crunches beneath and within him before a final slam knocked him out.

--------

Shouta was out on patrol when some guy ran from out of an alley and waved him down, or more like he was yelling out in general on how he needed to call for a hero or ambulance.

He landed softly, approaching carefully as he managed to calm the bystander down, asking what the issue was as he took note of the ragged clothes and scrawny look. Homeless from the looks of it, and not doing well. It explained why he didn’t have a phone to call in for help.

“I uh- was checking dumpsters, some of them have really good stuff people throw away like it’s trash and- uh…”

“You don’t have to explain why you were there, just tell me what’s wrong,” Shouta huffed, annoyed. He had a lot on his mind, especially regarding the recent events regarding his class and his problem children. He would rather punch out a villain than negotiate information out of a panicking citizen.

“There’s a dead kid,” he sputtered.

Shouta felt his blood run cold, “where?”

“The green dumpster, I opened it and he was just laying there- I freaked out when I saw him-,”

Shouta didn’t bother to listen to the rest as he rushed to the described dumpster and threw open the heavy lid. Sure enough, there was a raven haired kid laying in the garbage. Crimson covered his face and he looked almost as pale as a ghost, it was easy to think he was dead with a short glance. He couldn’t be completely sure the kid was in fact dead, unless he got a pulse checked, and it was hard when he had to hold up the dumpster lid while attempting to check. He glanced over to the bystander, “Hey, come hold this up while I get him out.”

The bystander didn’t argue, running over to hold up the lid as Shouta reached in and lifted the kid out, already assuming the worst as the kids skin was freezing cold. He carefully laid him down as the bystander dropped the lid and took a few steps back, shuffling his feet as Shouta took out his cell and dialed 911, then went to check for a pulse. He could feel any hope that this kid was alive slipping as he didn’t feel a pulse.

The operator picked up, “I need-,” Shouta began and paused as he felt the faintest hint of a pulse, his heart fluttering slightly with hope, “an ambulance, Musutafu, an alley just off Might’s Avenue. Fast. Looks like a head wound, loss of blood, very faint pulse and cold to the touch.” Shouta glanced back up at the bystander, “you may have just saved this kid.”

The bystander glanced at his feet, “Ah- just… he’s so young… I couldn’t leave him…”

Shouta turned his attention back to the kid, finding out the blood on his face was coming from a wound on his head. Either someone tried to kill him and dumped his body in the dumpster so it wouldn’t be found, or he got hit on the head by the lid. Both options had a variety of questions: who's, what's and why’s. But if the kid lived, he may just get his answers.

----------

Danny felt like absolute shit before he could even manage to peel his eyes open, the glaring light above him giving him an instant headache. He twisted, groaning in annoyance as he lifted his hand to his face to try and block out the light and struggled with the sheets he seemed to be wrapped in. In a fit of frustration, he managed to aggressively kick the sheets off and free himself from its bundled prison. He used his hands to prop himself up and felt a wave of nausea wash over him, causing him to pause slightly and wait for it to pass.

He glanced around the room he was in, his scrambled thoughts slowly falling into place as he tried to remember what he was last doing and where he could be. He didn’t recognize the room whatsoever… but it looked a lot like a hospital…

He looked down at his arms and finally noticed the IV, and frowned. Okay. Definitely a hospital. The bundled sheets on the floor, IV running up his arm, and very chemical smell in the air confirmed it.

He then remembered Vlad and forced down a growl rising in his throat, the asshole dragged him out in the middle of the night then threw him hard enough to knock him out, someone must have come by and noticed him passed out and took him to a hospital- shit did he transform back? Was he still-?!

He quickly reached up and pulled his hair in front of his eyes, taking note of the raven black colour and leaning back with a sigh. So, Fenton. Not Phantom.

The clicking of the door handle caught his attention as a man walked in dressed in scrubs; then paused as he noticed Danny staring at him. “Y-you’re awake?”

Danny blinked at the stammered question, nodding, “uh… yeah?”

Before Danny could ask him anything, the nurse was gone and Danny was left alone in the room once more. He glanced at the IV’s again and then around the room as he twiddled his thumbs a little. A year or two ago, he would be freaking out. Fearful of what doctors would find if they tried any sort of tests, but thanks to Frostbite he was able to figure out what parts of his human half were irregular in medical terms. Nothing that would suggest too strongly about his ghost half. At most he had a bit of ectoplasm in his bloodstream. But that was easy to disregard since his home was an ectoplasmic hot spot, it would be weird if he didn’t have some in his body. He bet Jazz even had some ectoplasm in her blood, he wasn’t as sure with mom and dad since they wore hazmats most of the time, but again it would be weird if they didn’t have any ectoplasm in their DNA anywhere, Danny just had a bit more thanks to his ghost half. The other irregularities happened to be conditions other people sometimes had, usually it would cause issues but there always seemed to be cases where it doesn’t bother the person. Slow heartbeat, slightly colder body temperature, that kind of thing.

So hospitals just weren’t as scary as he thought they would have been. The worst was that haunted hospital that Spectra decided to use to mess with him. This was like a hotel compared to that experience, so not bad. As much as he was tempted to be uncooperative in the idea that it was easier to just fly out of the building and head home, it would be weird for a kid to just… disappear. Not to mention news stations go nuts for kids disappearing from hospitals, so that draws a lot of attention from the media and the last thing he needed was more bad press on Phantom. The closest connection people have was the rumour that he was dating his ghost half, which worked, surprisingly. So no doubt there would be people guessing that Phantom kidnapped Fenton and then his parents would show up and shoot at him again and he would have to disappear and reappear and make some weak argument about how it wasn't Phantom, so it all just dragged out into a massive mess. If he answered the doctor's questions and got into contact with his parents, it was easier to say he was wandering and got lost then got mugged or something. His curfew would tighten, and his parents would hover for about a week but it was just a lot less hassle.

When a new person walked into the room, he was snapped out of his thoughts and looked up and jolted, choking back a squeak of surprise at what he saw. There was a person, they had a white coat like most doctors would, but it was their face- er-... head? Their head was… it was-

“Hello, my name is Doctor Ichiyo,” the doctor's alligator looking head spoke, their lips forming to make the words as they spoke instead of the mouth opening up wide like he had seen on nature documentaries. Were they a ghost? If they were, why hadn’t Danny’s ghost sense gone off? Was he hallucinating? “Can you tell me your name?” Danny opened and closed his mouth, unsure of how to react to… to the alligator face. The ‘Doctor’ gave him an odd look, “are you alright, young man? Anything in pain that we should be worried about?”

“Danny. Danny Fenton,” Danny squeaked out.

He saw the doctor's eyes widen, he was sure their eyebrows would be raised… if they had any. Which they didn’t. Because the doctor had an alligator head. And he was acting like it was normal. The nurse in the room was acting like it was normal. Was this normal? Had he finally lost his mind? “Do you have some sort of healing quirk, Danny?”

Danny sputtered, “uh- what.”

“A healing quirk? Or some other kind of quirk that may increase your metabolism? Some strength quirks are known to have positive healing effects.”

“What- I… what's a-...? A quirk?” He stammered through his thoughts, still very distracted by the person. With an alligator head. Were those glasses on the end of their snout holy shit how did he not notice that? How did they stay there? Tape? Or were they really good at balancing the glasses? Why at the end of their snout too shouldn’t they be right up to the eye none of this made any sense- hell the ghost zone made more sense than the Doctor sitting in front of him- what was happening.

“... Danny what year is it,” the Doctor asked, tilting their head.

Danny blinked as they did so, mirroring the action slightly just out of the fact that his brain was on rapid fire and he still had a headache and the alligator head was still tripping him up. Either he was dead. Or he was crazy. Both were very plausible. “2021,” he answered without a second thought.

The doctor frowned, why was he frowning- holy that was really weird to see though. An alligator frowning. The long jaw twisting to make the expression was still so weird-.

“Who’s the current number one hero?” The doctor asked next. The question was like a second punch to the gut for Danny at this point, number one hero?

That was an opinion thing, right? “You mean like comics? I’ve always been a fan of Spider-Man…” Danny trailed off as he saw the Doctors frown deepen even further, muttering under their breath.

Which Danny managed to pick up, hearing ‘the head wound was worse than we thought…’

Head wound?

Danny almost reached for his head, stopping himself when he realized that he shouldn’t have heard that, and kept his arms down with his hands on his lap. So was he really hallucinating? But why was it like he was answering all their questions wrong?

“One last question. Do you have a way to contact your parents or a guardian?”

Danny perked up again at this one, finally he knew he could get in contact with his parents, then maybe clear whatever the heck was up at this place. This had to be a prank, his vision being bad or some other reason. They’d show up and drag him back to amity park, familiar ground. “Uh yeah. I know the phone number, can I-,” the Doctor handed him a pen and paper and Danny nodded with a soft ‘thanks’. He quickly scribbled down his home number, Jazz’s number and finally Sam’s number, just in case. He handed it back to the Doctor who glanced at the numbers and nodded back, offering a new level of disturbing smile.

“Thank you, I’ll come back to check on you shortly,” and the doctor stood up and left, the nurse trailing after them with a more… concerned expression. As Danny was left alone once more he leaned back against the pillow and blinked.

“I must be hallucinating,” he stated to himself.

--------

“It’s… concerning,” Doctor Ichiyo shook her head, “he seems almost delusional. He stated the year was 2021, over 100 years off from our current date, he was confused about the mention of quirks and heroes, and the numbers he gave us for contacts are dead ends. We tried looking up his name, but it’s not in any Japanese medical records, not to mention it’s very… American? If he’s from America, we need a city or town so we can call someone there for possible records but from what information we did manage to get from him, it’s all false and odd. It’s likely he will give us a name of a fake town.”

Shouta blinked, “so the kid is lying? Hiding something?”

Dr. Ichiyo shook her head,” that’s the weirdest part. He genuinely seems to believe that his answers are correct. His reactions to my own made that very clear, we think it’s very severe head trauma, making his brain jumble up words, letters and numbers so what he thinks is correct comes out odd and jumbled. We plan to run an MRI test right after a quirk specialist checks him over, see if he does have a quirk we should be concerned about. It can get dangerous when a patient forgets about their quirk and it gets revealed, it tends to happen at the worst times, too.”

“And what happens if you can’t find anything?” Shouta asked, crossing his arms as he thought carefully. “No connections to America, or Japan, or anywhere?”

Dr Ichiyo glanced up, “Foster care. Most likely. He’s still young, and we aren’t going to toss him on the street. But he seemed very sure of the numbers he gave us. If he has a quirk and we reveal putting him in the system and he doesn’t like that…”

“He may run,” Shouta frowned.

“We have ways to prevent that of course,” the Doctor assured, “is there a reason why you’re so interested in this boy? Most heroes would have just left this up to the hospital by now.”

“He’s a young kid who was found in a dumpster with a serious head wound, my initial thought being the concern that someone wanted him dead. Do you know how he got there yet?”

The doctor shook her head, “we haven’t brought it up yet. The fact he woke up so quickly was surprising. We expected him to be out for a few days at the very least. We want to be careful about this kind of thing, head wounds always cause the most concern.”

Shouta nodded, “all right. I’ll be back later, and call me if you have any updates. I have work to do.” Shouta turned as he headed to leave, the mystery of the kid bouncing around in his head. Danny Fenton. He’d have to try and dig up information regarding that name. Connections. Relations. Anything.

Ever since the USJ field trip he’s been on edge. He took interest in young Shinso at the sports festival as well, offering training so he may eventually transfer to the hero course. The kids were all splitting up on internships, and he hadn’t had too much issue regarding it. His only other concern being about Iida. His brother being in the hospital thanks to Stain. But the kid would work through it, he had a strong moral sense to him. He didn’t expect him to do anything brash, that was more to be expected from his problem student… Midoriya.

So a kid ending up in a dumpster during the times Stain is active and after the League of Villains made their appearance? It raised questions. Concerns. Possible connections between either or both. It could be entirely unrelated, but he couldn’t take that chance yet.

--------

Danny was restless, and worried. Those questions were… weird. And the expressions he got in return (from the Doctor with an ALLIGATOR FACE HE MAY ADD) was not encouraging. Since he managed to get his thoughts together after the doctor had left, he noticed he was in one of those dumb hospital gowns. And that his clothes were neatly folded on a chair next to him. He reached over and dug his phone out of his pockets and turned it on, sighing in relief as the screen lit up and he quickly unlocked it. Immediately he tried to call Jazz first, lifting it to his ear and frowning as the cell beeped in response and the robotic voice of a woman told him the number was invalid. His phone was connected to wifi, so he tried the Internet next.

This was when he noticed something… off. The normal search engine he used was… different. It was spelled weird. The colour was off. The big thing that threw him off was the word ‘quirk’. It seemed… important. Extremely important. Ignoring the fact that the search engine was weird, he typed in the word.

The results were immediate.

And worrying.

They were… essentially powers. Powers people were born with. Powers that have been around since 2014. And apparently… The year was 2148.

Danny swallowed the lump in his throat.

So. At some point. He either went through a portal. Or. Clockwork decided it was time for another adventure. Across time and possibly even dimensions. The first reported quirk was a glowing baby in 2014. And he knew damn well that nothing like that ever happened in his world.

So different time. Different world.

Okay. Fun. Joy. This means these people think he’s crazy and he can’t contact his friends, his family, nobody.

He could feel his restlessness increasing by the second.

Amity was unguarded. His home, his territory. No- no Sam, Tucker and Jazz could handle it. They knew about the equipment and how to deal with lower level ghosts and higher level ghosts. And Sam and Tucker knew where to find his ally’s for any help when some of the more troublesome ones decided to show up.

They… they would be fine. They had to be fine.

Oh and mom and dad…

Time travel was one thing. He could be here and back within 5 minutes but this was dimension logic and who knows what that meant.

He could be gone for weeks.

Or hours.

He may just have to hope that whatever this mess was, dimension… time.. confusing mess, wouldn’t affect his time back at home.

And if it did…

You know what.

That’s a future Danny problem.

To distract himself, Danny opened his phone and checked out who this #1 hero was. It was an odd question, and seemed important. Once again, the results were immediate and he got his answer in the form of a list. A hero called ‘All Might’ was number one and had been for quite a few years. Then it went down the list, number two being a hero named Endeavor and three being a hero named Hawk’s. It was a long list and he decided to maybe not read off every single name. He almost missed the fact that it was listed as Japan’s Top Heroes.

So… did this mean he was in Japan? If he was, why was everyone speaking English? Or… were they all speaking English? He didn’t actually know- after meeting Wulf he tried to learn Esperanto. Which was difficult at first and then one day… it was like he knew it off the top of his head.

Or maybe this was just weird dimension language stuff. He didn’t know. Nothing made sense. He would just have to try to make sense of what he could.

So a world where almost everyone had powers, huh? Superheroes were a common sight. Maybe he could even pass off his ghost powers as a quirk or something… but the wiki page he found did explain some science… and the one thing that stood out was that people had one power. Usually being derived from one parent or a mix between the two. Danny… well his ghost powers were a big ol messy pot of powers. Invisibility, intangibility, not to mention ice is pretty new and not related at all to his ectoray’s…

Too much attention, and he may need to try to keep Phantom and Fenton separate, which meant if he wanted to pretend to have a quirk, he should limit it to one of his abilities. And let Phantom keep the rest. He chewed on his lip as he thought about his options. He had a really good handle on his ghost powers… but ice was still one he was trying to keep under control and he would slip up more often with it… he could also pretend to have no powers, quirkless as they called it here…

Would that be better or worse?

Scrolling through the information, he slowly began leaning more for the idea of having an ‘ice quirk’. There was a lot of history of quirkless people being targeted for various things, since they didn’t have much of a power to defend themselves against those that did… but also there was a profession of heroes. People getting paid to do hero work with licenses and everything. And heroes got a lot of benefits. Access to certain opportunities and the ability to use their quirks in public. Which apparently… using any powers in public was illegal unless in self defense. Vigilantes were like… super illegal. But to become a hero there was schooling, license exams, and it was listed to be very competitive. And Danny didn’t want to stay here for years.

Not to mention… he wasn’t the type to sit by and let people get hurt.

But the students did get access to heroes of the world, as well as some of the opportunities full blown heroes did. Especially this ‘UA’ school.

He tapped on the link to the schools information and swore under his breath to see he missed the time to get in. So much for that idea… so it would be sneaking around and into buildings then… guess he would really need to keep Phantom separate from Fenton, just to make it easier to survive in public. From all these news articles, it seemed like it was impossible to stay out of the light when a lot of attention is placed on someone.

He continued to try and think on what to do. How to get home. Then noticed another odd thing…

There was an app… one he didn’t recognize.

With a hesitant tap, he opened it and noticed it was some sort of notes app. And someone had already written in it.

-

Do not fret about Amity.

Remember to follow your heart.

— CW

-

Danny blinked at the note. Then blinked again. Then dropped his phone onto the table beside him so he wouldn’t crush it in his hands.

God.

Fucking.

Damnit.

First | Next

[justplainwhump]

Out

Mark and Gemma get a pet - p XXIV

Cw for BBU, pet whump, nudity, referenced caning, referenced noncon/dubcon, but mostly this is relationship drama.

[Masterpost] [Part I] [< Previous] [Next >]

"What the fuck, Gemma?" Mark almost slipped on the wet floor as he lunged forward and caught the cane before it could rain down onto Ira again. "Are you insane?"

His girlfriend's eyes were glistening with tears, salty streaks on her cheeks. She didn't fight when he tugged at the cane, let go off it, and didn't even look down, when he dropped it to the ground.

He held her by the shoulders, fought the urge to shake her. She was trembling, eyes flat and cold, glued onto the naked pet on the bed.

"Thank you," Ira whispered, as if to herself. "Miss... Miss Gemma. Dis..." She gasped. "Dis... ah. Discipline is important for the balance and wellbeing of a pet."

Gemma didn't seem to hear her. "What did you do, Mark?" She asked flatly. "What did you do with my pet, in my bed?"

Mark looked at Ira, at the thin bloody lines over her breast and stomach. She was barely moving now, her breath flat, shoulders shaking. Her eyes were closed, as if she could just hide from the world like this.

She hadn't been like that just minutes before. She'd been good, perfect, without Gemma interfering and making it all about herself.

He'd just taken her, however he pleased - three or four times, he guessed, depending on how one would count it - and after her initial show of acting up she'd played along. She'd enjoyed it, too. Of course she had, it was her single purpose. If Gemma wouldn't give it to Ira, he would.

"The fucking question is what you just did! Did you really beat her up for serving her one single purpose?"

"I asked you not to touch it."

"And yet I did," Mark felt his hands curl into fists. "This is my place, too. You don't get to tell me what to do in my own home."

"I asked you to," she replied stubbornly. "I asked you for one single thing Mark, and that's to keep it in your pants for one afternoon. But I guess I don't mean anything to you."

"I... I fucking get it. You - you're jealous." Mark pushed her at arm's length, stared down at her. "You're jealous that I fucked the pet instead of you?"

"That's not -" Gemma began, but he couldn't bear her flat apathetic voice.

"You want us to have an actual sex life? You know what, try to actually come home from work at night, maybe, or to get rid of this stick you've got shoved up your ass. Maybe treat me like a person instead of a burden? Like I'm actually worth something? Guess what, then I might have wanted to fuck you instead of the dumb pet." He pointed at Ira. "She looks at me like I matter. Like I can be the center of her world, like my touch makes her happy. You? You look at me like you're sorry for me, like you're disappointed that even you, perfect Miss Gemma couldn't fix me."

Gemma still didn't look at him, just at Ira spread on the bed. "She... It said, it said no."

Mark scoffed in disbelief. "Well she's made to be fucking obedient. She said it for you, Gemma, because that dumb pet still finds it in her to love you, and wish to obey you. As if you could be loved. You can't be loved, Gem, but you know what? You deserve her. You can keep her. She's the only one who can stand being with you even if you're the cruel cold controlling bitch that you are. Because I..." He shrugged and stepped back. "I can't."

Gemma's head spun, clear eyes boring into his. "What the... What the heck, Mark. Are you - are you breaking up with me? You? You, the one who did every even remotely possible thing wrong? You have the audacity to think you're the one to break up? No. No, Mark, it's me, I'm in charge, and I -" She brought up her hands in fists, tiny, delicate fists, and he almost laughed at how ridiculous she was. How he couldn've had this little woman keep him prisoner in this relationship for so long.

"You what?" he teased.

The anger boiling up in her was cute to watch. He could see her gaze fly down to the cane. "Oooh, you're going to beat me up? Like you did her? No Gemma, you've lost this one. I'm out." He backed out, a wild thrill rushing down his spine. He was free. He was fucking liberated. It felt fantastic. "Have fun with her. She's amazing with her tongue. And she can make it all just about you, the way you like it, right?"

He grabbed his pants from the floor. Gemma was frozen in place, hands still balled into fists, face contorted between anger and disbelief.

"Fuck you, Gemma," he said softly, as he reached for the doorknob. "And if you feel too good to do it yourself, use her." He wondered, for a moment, if she would. Or if she'd beat her to death, insane as she was. He didn't care, he realized. As long as he was out of this.

"Bye."

He pulled the door shut behind him and stepped out of his life.

[Next >]

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 24)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Peter Quill x Reader Word Count: 3460 Warnings: fluff, light angst

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: Feedback is always appreciated!

HEY NEIGHBOR PART 23 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

The sun beckons you to rise, to leave the bed you’ve grown so accustomed to in the last few days and with reluctance you do, trudging across your apartment to get ready for work even though all you wanted to do was sleep the day away. Finding out you couldn’t graduate on time like you expected to do was a huge blow to your motivation, and Peter’s belittling of the subject didn’t help.

For the first week after you ignored most of his texts, even if they woke you up in the middle of the night. You debated shutting your phone off again like you used to but ever since you started dating Peter you kept it on, rousing from sleep with texts that let you know he was okay after coming back from a fire. You began to reply with just a few words here and there so he didn’t worry. The last thing you wanted was for Peter to come over.

You weren’t in the mood to see him, making up excuses about having to work late instead of wanting to get into the truth about how you were feeling. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to address it, you just didn’t want to now. You already had a terrible headache from all the tears you spent crying over a stupid mistake, you didn’t need to add an argument on top of it.

Knowing Peter’s schedule made it easier to come up with excuses for the days he had off so you didn’t expect him to show up at your door one evening. But it wasn’t Peter’s face that you first saw through the peephole of your door, but the kind smile of a stuffed animal.

Opening the door a little you saw Peter’s eyes peeking out from behind the plush, a floppy eared dog that wasn’t quite as cute as Groot but still adorable nonetheless. Peter lowered the doll revealing a serious expression.

“I’m sorry,” he said gently, with sincerity laced in every syllable.

You gripped the door tighter, feeling tears begin to well in your ears but still you said nothing. Two words could not make up for the four he said that broke you.

“I realized how much of a jerk I was, I didn’t validate your feelings and I’m sorry, Y/N. I never meant to hurt you.”

A tear rolled down your cheek as you sniffled, opening the door wide enough for Peter to come inside, enveloping you in his arms. More apologies fell from his lips as did your tears but when Peter nudged the nose of the stuffed animal against your arm you began to smile. He pretended like the dog wanted to get in on the hug and you happily obliged.

Peter stayed for a while, explaining he switched days off with someone. It kind of threw off his schedule but he didn’t care. “You’re worth it,” he told you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

You kissed him goodbye, waving the dog’s paw as he walked down the hallway. While it was nice to have made up with Peter there’s still a feeling of resentment deep down inside that you can’t help but hold onto.

Despite forgiving him Peter still wanted to make sure he was there for you, by distracting you on the day you should have been graduating and going to a movie under the stars at Riverside Park. You held hands, resting your head on Peter’s shoulder as you watched Footloose, “the greatest movie in history” according to him.

The chill of the night made you shiver and Peter draped his jacket around your shoulders and from that moment on you sort of spaced out, remembering a chilly night not long ago when you were wearing Bucky’s jacket as he kept you bundled in a warm hug. The memories stung like needles in your heart. The movie is a blur. Your mind was off graduation but lingered on more unpleasant thoughts...

It didn’t take long to get your mind off the past, not when you began working at Metro-General again. Elena was kind enough to let you complete your hours on the weekends and it was only going to take just over a month. Working long hours at two different places every day of the week was going to be a bit of struggle but it was one you would happily push through.

You saw less of Peter as a result but truthfully you hadn’t the chance to see much of anyone except for Steve at Stark’s and occasionally running into Sam at the hospital. When your schedules did allow for an evening together you weren’t much company, spread out along the couch with Groot at your side, cuddling him as you shut your eyes until dinner was ready. And afterwards Peter joined you in the shower, the water waking you up enough to feel every sweet press of Peter’s lips on your skin as you got clean– and dirty together

In bed, your hand rested on his chest as Peter held you close, whispering your name softly to see if you were still awake. A soft hum vibrated in your throat and Peter asked something you thought you’d be able to avoid.

“Thor’s having a barbecue on Monday. Can we go?”

Monday, Labor Day, the only day you had not to do any laboring except for much needed laundry. You really wanted to spend it sleeping until noon, possibly later, and enjoy the only day you had off.

Peter’s lips flattened into a thin line, wondering if you had fallen asleep or didn’t respond on purpose. He knew it might be hard to convince you, with you being so exhausted already during the first week of your new schedule but he really wanted to see you that day and with a deep breath he let you know how much it would mean.

“I love you Y/N and I really miss you. We wouldn’t have to stay long, I just wanna be with you since we both have off.”

You hoped Peter couldn’t feel the way your heart began to rapidly pound against your rib cage. Peter loves you? He said the words. He said them and you… tried to pretend you were asleep. You were probably doing a terrible job, Peter could surely feel your panicked breathing.

You had to say something. Anything. But you couldn’t say it back.

Not those words.

Through a sleep-laden sigh you mumbled an “okay” a guilt fueled answer in response to a party you really didn’t want to go to, along with the rhythm of words that could maybe have been an “I love you too” if someone chose to interpret them that way.

Despite how tired you were it took some time to fall asleep with Peter’s words keeping you awake.

Thor lived in a narrow apartment with clean white walls and light oak floors, and simple furniture that left room for a lot of open space. There was a plain wood table with curved back chairs on thin tapered legs, a decent sized couch across from a slim TV mounted on the wall, and a large potted plant growing tall and green, soaking up the sun from the glass doors that opened to an outdoor balcony.

You first spotted Gamora inside, standing up to greet you and Peter. The women she was speaking with introduced themselves as Jane and Darcy, and they were happy to have another person to talk to that didn’t work for the FDNY.

“We were outnumbered before but now you’re here!” Darcy cheerfully said.

“We’re still outnumbered,” you heard Jane remark in passing as you made your way to the balcony to find Thor.

He took a moment to step away from the patio sized barbecue to say hello before returning to ensure the meat was properly turned on the grill. Over his shoulder he introduced you to some of his coworkers introduced by their last names, Fandral, Hogun and Volstagg.

Everyone got on along well and the conversation made everyone smile. Peter broke out in laughter as he told a story about Drax, who was working today and couldn’t defend himself or his sensitive nipples. You were having a really nice time but while eating Thor’s food you couldn’t help but think how this would compare to George’s barbecuing. Is Bucky there now? Is Claire? Are they happy?

Are you?

You don’t see Peter again until the end of the week, another night spent in his apartment that you should have felt a little more comfortable in by now but you don’t. Sure you’ve slept there often enough and showering wasn’t strange but it was something on a deeper level that you didn’t connect to. Everything still felt like Peter’s, which makes sense of course but the feeling you can’t get past is that you can’t see these things ever feeling like yours.

Groot nudged your arm to stretch across your lap, eating a cookie that crumbled on your thigh. Ironically Peter’s pets were the only things you really felt connected to. Oh and Peter too, you realized as an afterthought, feeling bad about it.

Your head was hanging down, staring at Groot as you stroked his head, not paying much attention to Peter as he sat back on the couch. He stretched his legs out onto the coffee table, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV. His hands dug around the cushions for his Firestick remote, asking if you’ve seen it but instead of answering your head snapped up at the mellifluous voice of Shirley Jones.

Seeing The Music Man left you in a state of frozen shock, and watching as Marion sings to herself of her feelings for Harold Hill, the feelings she’s been denying for some time now brought painful tears to your eyes. You couldn’t stop them, tears dropping on top of poor Groot’s head as Marion poured her heart out for the person she loved.

Peter turned when he heard you sniffling, giving up his quest to find the smaller remote and wrapping his arms around you. “Awww kitten, you cry at musicals, that’s so sweet!” He kissed your temple, a feather light peck pushed daggers into your heart. “I cry too, like the time I saw Little Shop of Horrors…”

Peter’s words fade as you focus on the pain radiating in your chest, the ache of an atrophied muscle beating to a song you made it forget. It cries out in longing as Marion does for Harold… as you long for Bucky.

It’s hard to believe that a little over a year ago you were invited by Tony Stark to be a part of the team that got The September Foundation off the ground. You remember being taken to his office, nervous as if the principal was going to call your mom and becoming absolutely flabbergasted when he asked you to work on this project.

It’s funny how things have a tendency to work out. When your living situation changed so did your life, and Stark Industries became a raft in the water. It kept you afloat as you cruised slowly down the river towards your degree, and when the time came to complete your requirements you took a chance, sailing on choppy waters and in the end you survived. Not only did you survive but you came out stronger.

The last year has given you so much to be grateful for, from being able to have the opportunity to learn from one of the city’s best damn social workers Elena Rodriguez to working alongside brilliant minds like Tony Stark and Pepper Potts and so many others to create an amazing organization.

The September Foundation opens its doors next week but tonight was all about celebrating. You’re shaking with nerves but in an exciting way as you take your Uber to the modern penthouse of a gorgeous hotel in Tribeca.

Your heels clack on the large marble tiles that spread across the lobby. It's a mix of modern and contemporary with charcoal walls and a sleek backlit sign above the check in desk with the most gorgeous chandeliers you’ve ever seen, like fireworks frozen in their fullest burst. To the side people sit on velvet green chairs that surround a gold hammered coffee table, noses glued to their phones.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirrored elevator doors, standing taller when you notice your slouch. There is no need to slouch tonight, you look and feel amazing. Dressed in an elegant black halter gown with a thick embellishment of pearls on the neckline, you kept your jewelry simple with a delicate gold bracelet, letting the dress and bold red lipstick stand out.  

“Y/N!” a woman’s voice beamed, and you spotted the reflection of Maria Hill in the mirror.

You turned around, finding yourself in her tight embrace. You always got along well with her, but you didn’t think your former boss would be this happy to see you. She introduced you to a man you had seen only in pictures, Tony’s friend James Rhodes who he had always called Rhodey, and while she walked in on his arm you didn’t want to assume anything.  

The elevator ride up to the penthouse was filled with small talk, Maria couldn’t believe how much had changed since she last saw you. She handed you her card, “That’s my mobile,” she said with a hint of an Australian accent peeking through, encouraging you to call and catch up while she’s in town.

Rhodey extended his arm across the elevator doors, allowing you and Maria to exit first. You were stunned looking around the space rented for the event. Floor to ceiling glass walls gave a panoramic view of the Manhattan skyline. The outdoor balcony was grand, with stylish seating and candlelit tables.

Tony walked out from around a corner, looking sharp in a designer suit and perfectly knotted bow tie. He was accompanied by a woman in all black, the event planner who clutched a tablet in hand, her head whipping around in all directions as she spoke to him visually scoping the space for any last minute issues that needed tending to.

He smiled as he spotted the three of you, his eyes lifting with acknowledgment before he could come over. Pepper had come out from somewhere behind you, stunning in a twilight blue satin dress. More people who were part of The September Foundation team quickly filed in from the elevator taking your attention away from lingering on the tiny protrusion below Pepper’s waist, your suspicions confirmed later when she refused a glass of champagne. A lot of things had changed indeed.

When the gala was officially opened you were meeting and greeting with so many faces, repeating yourself a few dozen times though never losing enthusiasm. This was so important and you really hoped tonight’s event was not only a celebration of everyone’s hard work but a reminder for those with philanthropic abilities to continue supporting this community outreach program.

Familiar faces in the crowd made you light up brighter than the sun. You greeted Natasha, Wanda and Steve, all dressed impeccably for the event. “Where’s Clint?” you asked.

“Where else?” Natasha chuckled, pointing towards him stalking a tray of bacon wrapped dates.

Wanda apologized for Sam, he was working tonight in the ER and obviously couldn’t make it.

“Peggy sends her regards as well,” Steve chimed in. “She had to fly back to England for some family business.”

You understood, almost all of your friends were there at least but not everyone. You had thought about inviting Bucky but extending an invitation to Claire didn’t feel right and purposely not inviting her felt worse. And after your stomach felt like it got flipped upside down you gave up on the thought altogether. You and Bucky weren’t friends anymore and you’re not sure you ever could be again.

“I don’t see Peter,” Steve said.

Wanda and Natasha were no longer beside him and you felt comfortable enough to whisper, “I broke up with him.”

You knew things weren’t the same anymore. It began when Peter showed a lack of respect and concern when you couldn’t graduate on time but even after he apologized you knew it was over the moment he told you he loved you and you couldn’t say it back. You didn’t love Peter. You had fun with him, you enjoyed his company but you didn’t love him and you would never be in love with him.

The breakup happened shortly after your last night together, when The Music Man reminded you that you did love someone once and even if they didn’t feel the same you owed it to yourself to be with someone you could love. It felt weird not telling your friends about what happened but with The September Foundation opening and finishing up the hours at Metro-General you really didn’t have a lot of time to focus on anything else.

Besides, you didn’t need them for this. Breaking up with Peter didn’t hurt because you knew it was the right thing to do, although saying goodbye to Rocket and Groot was terrible.

Steve clenched his jaw, swallowing before he asked, “Does he know?”

Your brow creased. “Who?”

“Bucky.”

What difference would it make if Bucky knew? Bucky chose to be with someone else. You weren’t good enough in his opinion so what is the point? Your breakup has no effect on his relationship.

You held your tongue, remembering where you were. With a frustration laced sigh you answered, “It doesn’t matter Steve. He–”

Before you could finish, Tony stood beside you and interrupted, “I’m so sorry, could I bother the lovely Miss Y/L/N? There are a few people I’d like her to speak with. Tony Stark, by the way,” Tony said, extending his hand towards Steve even as his feet began walking in the opposite direction.

Steve understood, this was technically work related but he wished he could have told you the truth about Bucky and Claire. He let out a heavy sigh, wondering if it was even his place but he was tired of the two of you ignoring the truth. You insisted on never speaking about Bucky, cutting Steve off if even tried to say something and Bucky was just as bad. He told Steve about his breakup with Claire but when your name came up it was too painful to hear.

He shook his head with frustration; Steve can’t believe he is friends with the two biggest idiots in the world, idiots that couldn’t see what was right in front of them.

He debated texting Bucky, telling him to come down here and profess his feelings in a grand way but he didn’t. You would definitely hate that, not wanting to take any attention away from the important organization that actually mattered, and besides Bucky was busy at his own event tonight, the screening for a movie he scored. Steve sighed again, grabbing a glass of champagne off a tray and drinking it quickly, hoping that one day soon you and Bucky can finally work this out.

Your feet ached all the way home until you finally stepped through the door and pulled them off, the wood a cool relief on your soles. Your dress was hung back up and you slipped into comfortable pajamas and a tank top. You spot the breakfast pajama bottoms, happy faced foods staring back at you wondering why you haven’t worn them in months. It was stupid, you loved those pajamas but you couldn’t put them on since Bucky wore them.

A tear slips slowly down your cheek as you think of his runway walk but you convince yourself it's just the water you’ve splashed on your face as you take off your makeup. You’re thoroughly exhausted after tonight and yet floating on a cloud carried by joy as everything worked out.

You completed your internship hours this past weekend and though you did have to wait until December you were going to graduate, officially. The September Foundation was going to keep you busy until then as you were asked to stay on to oversee everything and help it run smoothly. You were optimistic but Tony said to always be prepared for the worst. His words rang true in your head as you received a phone call from Sam an hour or two after you shut your eyes.

Harsh puffs blew out from his nose and mouth as if he was trying to catch his breath. He sounded relieved when you answered though his voice was unsteady, “Y/N, come down here quick. It’s Bucky... there was an accident.”

PART 25

[threeminutesoflife]

Don’t Forget

Pairings: Steve x Black!Reader Summary: A look at family life for Steve, Reader and their daughter after reader suffers problems with her memory  Warnings: slight angst/ends happy, memory loss due to injury, smut, slightest breeding kink Word Count: 1.8k

prompt: 50 First Dates

a/n: @allaboardthereadingrailroad❣️🧡​ thank you for hosting the Diversity Challenge 

a/n2: piece is purposely choppy and randomly placed to reflect the reader’s struggle with memory. Also, references to Dark Knight, Love Actually, Say Anything, 50 First Dates.

___ A monetary, momentary impact- cause and effect:

Bank robberies were many things. Successful ones were more. Timing, precision, determination; a well-mapped out plan, and methodical dedication to achieve a streamless end result.

It was that sort of successful robbery that cemented you, an involuntary participant, on a repetitive course of choppy, foggy memories. Despite the jovial clown designs of the robbers’ masks, the severity of the situation was real.   

Because things really do play out in slow motion as dramatic events unfold- a deafening crash, a cloud of dusty sunlight pouring in through the bank's broken entrance. Stilted, broken flashes of your life projected themselves on the backs of your closed eyelids.

Unfortunately, you were within the range of the propelling debris when the school bus reversed into the building.

Because of that day, your memory would skip and strip. 

____

Exhilaration- friendly fear of tickle monsters:

The sound of tiny feet slapping the floor drew closer from down the hall, ten little toes against high-gloss maple.

The bedroom door crashed open with no regard to the plaster behind it.

Giggles cut through the room as thirty pounds of mischief in footed pajamas launched itself straight at you.

“Mommy!”

Your three year old squealed before bombing her limbs upon your stomach, "Daddy’s gonna get us!”

___

No time for regret, when you’re in the moment of gratitude:

Steve found you standing in front of the vanity, staring at the mirror- unfocused. Frowning slightly, he knew what you were doing to yourself.  

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“Steve, do you ever think... it’d be easier if you didn’t ask me out all those years ago?”

“Which time?” Steve tested the waters with the usual joke, gathering time to prepare himself for the familiar, spirit-dampening conversation.

Every few months you’d ask him if all this was worth it- if the extra work to be with you was what he wanted. He’d always reply with, ‘Loving you's a blessing, not a chore.’

You’d hesitate at those words, at his sincerity- until he was able to coax affection back into your field of vision. Because you were worth it to him. 

“Steve, come on. I’m being serious.”

“Me too. I’m lucky to be as stubborn as people claim me to be-“

“Oh, it’s a fact," you snorted. "Not a claim. You’re stubborn.”

“Good thing for me then, huh?" Steve smiled, relieved by your humor. "Otherwise, I’d miss out on everything that’s good in my life.”

___

She’s got jokes:

A documentary splashed itself across the television screen as you sank into the couch next to Steve. Pointing your toes, you rested your legs over his lap and cracked open the fake memory journal's spin. 

Watching you from the corner of his eye, Steve hid his excitement that you brought the book out by him. 

You usually looked over it alone, too self-conscious to try remembering things in front of others. He always encouraged you to sit and read it with him. He liked resharing the stories you created together, but your underlying guilt for not recalling events easily shut the door on those conversations.   

Turning the page, you caught Steve glancing at you before shooting his attention back to the screen with a cough. 

Smugly stretching your legs, you bit your lip and rubbed your ankle over Steve’s bulge. Catching the way his thigh jumped and flexed under his thin sweatpants, your eyes darted back to the journal. You couldn’t wait to play out your prank. 

Keeping his eyes on the screen, Steve picked up your ankle and rolled his knuckles along the arch of your foot. As much as he appreciated the way you riled him up, he wanted you to open up.

Chuckling, you mumbled to yourself how great that day must have been before turning the page and complimenting another pretend event. 

Another faux memory praised, Steve twisted towards you before shaking his head and turning back to the screen. Pressing his thumb harder into the sole of your foot, he was unsure how to proceed. 

Delighted by his confusion, you complimented another memory with a theatrical dreamy sigh.

Giving in to his curiosity, Steve paused the television and gave it a shot, “What are we looking at?” 

“I thought it might be nice to talk about the stuff we did- like you’ve wanted.”

The smile that spread across Steve’s face almost made you feel bad for the prank.

“Yeah, yes- I’d like that,” he shut the tv off, practically dropping the remote in excitement. “What are you reading, what’s making you laugh?”

“How you asked me out using cue cards you made. The messages you came up with were sweet.”

“...Cue cards?”

“It was special of you, Steve. Taking the time to write out something on each one. Here. Look at this sentence, you called me perfect. Reading what you did and how loved I felt, you’re so wonderful.”

“...Honey...” Steve’s voice cracked slightly, “I don’t, I don't know anything about cue cards-”

“-And then the time you stood outside my bedroom window with that boombox. Holding it obnoxiously high above your head. Thank goodness for biceps, am I right?" You teased, nudging Steve with your elbow. "That gesture might be a little too much for some but reading how you made me feel, it meant so me.”

“You wrote that?” Steve questioned, an edge of concern creeping in. “You think I actually did-... you remember these things happening?”

“My favorite is right here. When you built that little house out of waffles at the diner. Setting up a kiddie pool of syrup for us to dip the roof in and a jacuzzi of hot chocolate nearby. And then your expression- when I said I'm more of a pancake person. You argued how pancakes aren’t sound enough for construction.” 

Keeping your poker face intact, you tried not to flinch as Steve inspected you intensely. 

Suddenly, he jetted forward and snatched the fake journal from your hands. Sailing it over his shoulder, he knocked your legs from his lap and climbed off the couch to loom over you. 

Before regret set in from your play of inaccurate historical accounts, your body snapped backward as Steve yanked you down the sofa by your ankles. 

“Hysterical. Pancakes over waffles” Steve scoffed dryly at your teasing, boxing himself over you and settling his knee between your legs. “I know you too well. You’re in for it now, sweetheart.”

____

Adoration, a promise of tradition and support:

You sat in bed with her snuggled by your side, a little nose peeked out from under her blanket. Her little hand wrapped itself around your shirt, her other held a well-loved, stuffed bunny. 

Scooping her up, you cradled her in your arms. Warm security. Peeling a corner of the blanket back, you kissed her cheek. 

Between giggles, she raised the rabbit up in the air and you played along- one kiss for her, another for her stuffed friend.

She settled in slowly with a yawn as you hummed the lullaby your mother softly sang to you before bed. The same rich melody draped with the lyrics your grandmother sang to her children. 

Tears gathered in your eyes as you willed yourself not to forget this moment.

___

Gratitude and gratefulness:

“Can’t you see how beautiful you are? Knowing I’m yours- that you’re mine... when you come out of that bedroom each morning, I witness that recognition of love on your face when you see us...” Steve’s body tensed, his shoulders shook as he stumbled over the words. "...getting to see you with our girl each day."

“Hey," You called to him, pulling himself out of his thoughts. "Hey, handsome."

Steve pressed his forehead against yours and tried to push down his anxiety. 

Your eyes locked to his as you promised teasingly, “You and our daughter- seeing her each day- that’s my happiness. You're just a bonus.”

Sputtering a laugh, he closed his eyes and relaxed from your fingers threading through his hair. Steve never took for granted how you soothed him, especially during the times when he should actually be comforting you. 

“Thank you,” Steve whispered. 

“Some things are easier to remember than others for me.”

“Yeah?” His lips ghosted over yourself, a half-smile raising the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah. The journal's a great cheat sheet, makes it easier to recall I have a husband. Now, if only I could pick him-”

Steve moved quickly, cutting off your joke. His mouth trapped your next words when his tongue swept over your lips. 

___

Muscle memory:

“Hold your legs. Spread'em wide for me,” Steve instructed between a husky, broken grunt. “Wider, sweetheart.”

He stroked himself in front of you as you laid naked on your back. Your arms were sandwiched between the fold of your legs and hands locked around your ankles. You provided your husband more access and an even prettier view with your feet in the air and legs parted. 

He ran his fingers over your folds, circling your clit. Lining himself up, he thought how these were some of his favorite moments with you, the intimacy and the need.

Caught up in the stretch and sensation of him slowly entering you, you almost missed his next words over your moans. 

“Want…” Steve stuttered, “want to be deep in you, beautiful.”

You mewled under him, squeezing him from his words. Releasing your ankles, you grabbed his arms for support as he slowly slid deeper. Steve’s movements faltered with a groan, feeling you tighten around him.

He closed his eyes to concentrate as you felt goosebumps run down his forearms under your palms. 

“Fuck,” Steve cursed and praised, thrusting harder. Your legs bounced above your arms from each snap of his hips.

“Free your legs. Give me your hands, sweetheart,” Steve instructed, massaging your breast.

Pulling him down, your hands wrapped around the back of his neck. You inhaled his woodsy shampoo as you dragged your nose along the light shadow of his beard. Capturing his mouth with yours, you tasted salt on his top lip.   

With a quick bite along your collarbone, his chest rumbled when you ignored his instructions. Collecting your wrists in one hand, he secured them over your head and ground into you harshly. 

“I love you,” Steve said, slowing his pace. 

You replied with a roll of your hips, earning a dark moan from him, "I love you, too.” 

Steve rocked back on his heels, dragging away his length and slipping out of you completely. Your body immediately began to cool from his lack of touch. 

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you called out, "What's wrong?"

“Your empty journal sheets bother me,” Steve stated, running his hands over your knees. "We're fixing that."  

His thumbs circled up your inner thighs, looping closer to your core. Spreading your legs further apart, he pushed them into the mattress. Taking himself back in his hand, he palmed his erection and rocked his shaft along your folds. 

"Let's have another baby, sweetheart," he smirked, teasing his tip into you. "Gotta fill up all those pages.”

[frostsinth]

A yummy pinup of Yared, trying to snake his way out of trouble he probably got himself into, and part 1 of 2 is below for the very sweet @justasoftboi who requested a continuation of the story of these two. This was supposed to be flat colors, but those coils just needed a little something extra to show them off. I hope this is what you were looking for! 

@justasoftboi was the first place winner of my Monster Match Raffle! If you are interested in commissioning me for your own monster piece, DM me for details. Check out my MasterList for more monster romances, and feel free to BuyMeACoffee while you are there!

All the best!

: PART ONE :

I sighed, rubbing at the back of my neck. “I don’t know, Raz... “

She somehow managed to make her eyes even bigger, and clasped her hands before her. Shaking them slightly for emphasis. “Come on, please? I know it sounds a little crazy-”

“It sounds insane.” I admonished her.

“You know how parents are!” She continued, “And mine are the worst! It’s just one night, and then they’ll be gone. Please?”

I groaned, feeling my resolve weakening. “Why me?” I asked, shifting my satchel on my shoulder. “Why not Hassan or Ondre? You know half the guys in this village would jump at the chance to be your boyfriend.”

She threw up her hands. “That’s exactly why I can’t ask any of them,” she replied, letting her hands settle on her hips from their descent, “I don’t want to send any mixed messages. You’re the only one that I know won’t do anything crazy.”

My lips twitched, and I almost laughed at that. “Well, you make a good point there.”

“Please?” She begged again, “I-I’ll take your shifts for a week! I’ll cover for you whenever you ask! I’m desperate, Kyros. I’m literally offering you my soul.”

I sighed again, shifting and considering her. “...Ugh, fine, fine.”

“YES!” She leapt into the air, punching it triumphantly.

“One night!” I told her firmly. “One night. One dinner. That’s it. And you’ll not only cover my shifts, you’ll bake me three dozen of your famous lemon squares.” I could think of one particular person who would particularly love that part of the deal. I almost smiled at the thought of his delight once he got a taste of them.

“Done and done!” She squealed, then lunged at me, standing on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around my neck and hug me tightly. “Kyros, you’re a life saver! I could kiss you!”

I untangled her, laughing lightly. “Let’s not and say we didn’t.” I returned quietly, shaking my head and wondering just what the hell I had gotten myself into.

She echoed my laugh, squeezing my hands in hers. “I’ll pick you up after sundown. Wear something clean, yeah?”

“I know how to meet my partner’s parents,” I scolded her, giving her an overly exaggerated frown which was quickly replaced by a smirk, “Don’t worry, I’ll kill it. You’ll regret having asked me later, because they won’t stop pestering you about what a great guy I am.”

Her grin was infectious and she patted my cheek fondly. “You’re the best boyfriend ever. I am very lucky.”

“Yeah yeah.” I said, taking her hand away and giving it a gentle squeeze. “See you in a while, Raz.”

“It’s a date!”

I waved her back off across the clearing, waiting until she was nearly out of sight to turn and duck between the trunks and vegetation at the jungle’s edge. My pulse was already thrumming as I made my way deeper into the thick throng of massive trees, my feet following a well worn and familiar path. I knew it would be hard, only having a few hours with Yared before I had to go meet up with Raz. It was hard ever leaving his side, almost torturous to have to do so. I longed for a day that maybe I didn’t have to go back to the tiny village on the riverside. It had only been a few months, yet I already couldn’t stand to be away from the snake longer than I had to be. What had he called himself? A Zmia? I smiled at the memory of late nights exchanging cultural bits and pieces. Those few months prior, the reptilian people of the jungle beyond my village were a silent menace; a distant warning against wandering alone. Though to me they had been more like a legend. Had I gone back in time and told myself I would be falling head over heels for a half man, half snake, I would have laughed myself to death and back. Now though, I couldn’t see him enough. Couldn’t keep my hands off him. Couldn’t imagine my life without him.

 And even when I was forced away from his company, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. More than once I had zoned out at work, nearly losing a hand in the process. I was already in hot water with my boss, having skirted so many jobs just to spend more time with him. I almost winced at the memory of his ire.

I remembered my first job at the river side logger, back when I had first moved here nearly a year ago. A new life. A fresh start. Far away from my own judgmental and bossy parents. I had scoffed at the warnings of the locals, and decided a stroll through the beautiful lush jungle was exactly what I needed to take my mind off of fresh calluses and sore muscles. How it quickly became my routine to take off into the deep vegetation whenever I got a moment to myself. Away from prying eyes and unspoken questions. After all, by most standards I was a handsome, hardworking, and available young man who, as of yet, had shown no interest in the local beauties. I meant to keep to myself, but the desire to just be alone made me an enigma to the locals. Many of whom had never left the riverside village. To them, I was the exotic. Even though the village itself was only a few generations old.

Raz had been my first friend, and so far remained my only. I suspected she had her own reasons, but she had never shown any remote interest in me. Had never done anything to make me feel uncomfortable, or put me on the spot regarding my preference in partners. And she had kept my secret faithfully when I had eventually opened up to her one drunken night. Not that it was outright forbidden or taboo; I just honestly didn’t feel like it was anyone’s business. Nor did I want to be some hot piece of gossip in a sparingly un-diverse town. So it was the least I could do to help her out of her own tricky situation. Though hopefully my situation would be only temporary.

When I had met Yared… life had become instantly better. He had slithered into my life so nonchalantly, and now I had everything I ever wanted. Well, almost everything. It would be nice not to have to leave him every few hours to maintain my presence in the town. The villagers were still deeply suspicious of their reptilian neighbors, and both parties preferred to keep to themselves. Which left little more than whispers of rumored sightings between the two. I grinned, thinking that maybe Yared and I might pave a whole new path for our two worlds. It was weird to think we might be setting a standard for future relations between our people. Assuming I could get through tonight, that was. I didn’t imagine the Zmia would be too pleased that I wouldn’t be able to spend that long with him. Especially after his promises from the morning. He could be a little selfish at times, though I wondered how much of that was a product of his culture. His people didn’t tend to live in villages or communities, so a life of solitude might certainly warrant a sense of one’s own self interests being the most important. I wondered if that was also a reflection of why he treated me how he did. I found I loved how clingy he was, how much he relished my time and company. How he lived for my attention and praise. I almost chuckled. No, he certainly wouldn’t be content with such a short visit.

But it would be worth it, I reasoned. Because with Raz covering my shifts for the next week or two, maybe I could spend the night with him. Or maybe a few nights… My stomach skittered with excitement at the thought, and I felt a flush at my collar.

I heard his coils moving along the forest floor before I saw him, and a grin was already lighting my face as I turned to greet him. Briefly I wondered what he was doing so far from his cave, but was just so happy to be able to see him again, I hardly cared. 

His long black tail was woven amid the tree he had just slithered out of, and again I marveled at him. Rose grey skin, raven black hair, scarlet red eyes. I loved the way his cream scales crept up his stomach from his serpent lower half, reaching all the way to the underside of his chin. He lowered himself to my level as I stepped over, and I trailed my fingers fondly over that soft underbelly of his. The scales were cool to the touch, as was his skin as I traced my hand over his abdomen along his ribs to rest my palm at his waist.

Slowly he slithered in a circle around me, and I pivoted in place as his long tail writhed, curling about us. I smiled again, feeling my skin zip with electricity. But when I looked up to meet his gaze, there was a slight frown on his thin lips. Not overly surprising in and of itself; Yared had a demeanor as cold as his temperature sometimes. Yet this time, I didn’t like the way those lips pinched together slightly at the center.

“You ok?” I asked, my voice laced with concern.

He titled his head to the side, distractedly tracing his fingertips lightly down my arm. Usually he would have completely enveloped me in his embrace by now, eager to steal my warmth. I found a frown forming on my own lips.

“...What is a ‘boyfriend’?” He asked, his voice a little tight.

I was surprised at the question and felt my heart skip a few beats. “Ah… that’s..” A flush rose to my cheeks, and I rubbed at the back of my neck. “When you’re courting someone, they are your boyfriend… or girlfriend, if they are a girl.” I considered him from the corner of my eye. “Where did you-”

“And a ‘date’?”

A tickle of realization hit me, spreading across my face. “Were you watching me?”

His frown deepened into a scowl. “What is a ‘date’?” He pressed.

“It’s… like… the time spent with the person you're courting. Like, if you go out to eat, or do some sort of activity together.” I struggled to find the right words, hoping my explanation would make sense.

“Why?”

“What?”

He scowled more, and I felt his tail curling tighter around us. “Why have these things?”

I sighed, a little confused and exasperated. Though not overly put off by his blunt manners as they were rather commonplace. “Well, to get to know each other. To see if the two of you could be life time partners.”

“To see if you would be compatible as mates.” He offered coldly.

“Exactly!” I smiled up at him, reaching out with my free hand to run it over his tail. It was more like a dark chocolate brown, I decided, not black. I could see the color more vividly here in the sunlight that broke through the canopy of emerald leaves overhead.

“Do humans have multiple mates?”

I looked up at him, surprised. His scaly brow was knotted over his long slender nose, and his fangs flashed as his tongue darted out into the afternoon air.

“I suppose some do-”

“Zmia do not.” He hissed.

I realized then he was angry, his sharp pupils thin, his posture tense. His tongue flicked back out, and he bared his fangs at me again.

“Yared-”

“Perhaps I should have mentioned before.” He cut me off before I could say more. “But I didn’t think I needed to.” His eyes narrowed. “I do not want to share you with anyone else. If you already have partners, I don’t think we should continue.”

A deadened feeling wrapped around my core, leaving me with a sinking feeling and a cold spot at the base of my neck. My mouth dropped open, and I couldn’t help but stare at him. He scowled back at me, seemingly unperturbed by my shock. My hand dropped away from him.

“You… I-I mean…” I shook my head, swallowing the painful lump that strangled my throat. “... If that’s what you want… did-” I caught myself, biting my tongue. But I decided I had to know. “Did I do something wrong?”

His ears twitched, and I saw the tip of his tail flick. “Perhaps not by human standards. It was unfair of me to assume you wished to be exclusive as my mate-” He seemed to choke on the word, stopping sharply. I saw him adjust his jaw before continuing. “If you already have that female-”

“What female?” I cut him off sharply, suddenly remembering what he had said early. “Wait, Yared, are you talking about Raz? Were you watching us earlier? Is that what this is about?”

He crossed his muscular arms over his chest. “She seems fond of you.” He replied bitterly.

I shook my head incredulously. “Raz is just a friend!” I tried to tell him. “We’re not-”

“She called you her ‘boyfriend’.” He shot back. “You are having this ‘date’ you explained. Why else if not testing her as a potential mate?”

I threw up my hands, shaking my head again. “That’s not- She’s just asking me to do her a favor!” I reached up, trying to touch his face. He jerked away, and I felt a stabbing pain in my gut at the rejection. “We’re just pretending, because she told her parents she was seeing someone.”

“You are helping her deceive her parents?” His thunderstruck brow deepened, “That seems unreasonable. Why perpetrate this lie? Why must she have a mate?”

“I don’t know! I guess her parents have been pressuring her, so she just told them that to get them to leave her alone.” I resisted the urge to reach out to him again, taking a step back instead.

“She said she would kiss you.” He hissed, and his red eyes narrowed. “She squeezed you with her body. She must like you.”

I felt my own anger beginning to bubble in my stomach, a stinging wave of backlash from the anguish he had caused. I scowled right back at him, crossing my arms over my own chest.

“She’s just happy she doesn’t have to fess up to her parents. Raz is just a friend, Yared. Nothing more!”

He bared his fangs at me, and his whole long body inflated slightly with his hiss. “She didn’t look like that.”

“Even if she was interested in me - Which she’s not, by the way! - I’m not interested in her. Not even remotely,” I snapped, “And you should trust me enough to believe me when I say that.” I threw up my hands again. “And you should trust me enough to ask me before you start throwing around accusations-”

“Hardly an accusation if I saw it with my own eyes-”

“You saw me agree to do a friend a favor,” I snarled, “You assumed it was something worse. You didn’t even ASK me! Just jumped to conclusions!”

That seemed to silence him, if momentarily, and he stared at me with his scarlet red eyes. I shook my head a final time, spinning and clambering angrily over his long tail. As my feet found solid purchase again, free from his coils, I pulled my satchel around and started digging through it.

“...You are not interested in being her mate?” He asked, his voice still icy but softer.

“No!” I practically yelled, spinning to face him again. “There’s only one person I’m interested in being my “mate”, and he’s being an absolute ass right now.” I yanked the bakery parchment from my sack, tossing it at him. “HERE! Take your damn treats, you big, dumb snake!” Now I was shouting, and he barely caught the parcel I hurled at his chest with surprising force. “I hope you like them. Sorry for thinking of you every minute of every day. Sorry for just trying to buy a way to spend more time with you.” I clenched my jaw, swallowing back tears. “I hope you enjoy yourself as much as you look like you do, because you’ll have none of me!”

With that, I spun on my heel and stomped out of the woods. I didn’t look back. Couldn’t bear to. The sting of his words and mine still ringing in my ears. My hopes dashed on the jungle carpet... But I still had a date to prepare for.

...

UPDATE: Final part HERE

[fantastic-secrets]

Fandom: Sk8 the Infinity

Characters: Shindo Ainosuke (Adam), Kikuchi Tadashi (Snake)

Warnings: PWP, BDSM, Pet Play (obviously), Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Oral Sex, Dirty Talk, etc.

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: As Ainosuke's personal assistant, Tadashi strives to please his master while maintaining a professional appearance at work. And Ainosuke takes just as much pleasure in trying to put a crack in that stoic facade.

Tadashi walked sedately after Ainosuke, his expression as bland as ever while his master spoke with another representative on the bill that was currently under discussion. His steps were slightly smaller than usual, and he couldn’t focus on what the two men were saying, their voices an undercurrent to the blood pounding in his ears. Eventually, Ainosuke seemed to realize that his secretary was starting to fall behind, and he glanced over his shoulder at the dark-haired man with a slightly cruel twist to his charming smile.

“Do try to keep up, will you?” he asked, a reprimand in his voice, and Tadashi nodded, lengthening his stride while unobtrusively biting his lip to stifle a gasp as something shifted inside him. A faint touch of color brushed his cheeks as he rushed to catch up with the two men until he stood a few paces behind Ainosuke’s shoulder again, and his master nodded with apparent satisfaction before turning back to his companion. But the other man was still looking at Tadashi, and Tadashi forced himself to stare back with the dull green eyes of a dead fish.

“Is something wrong, Shimada-sensei?” Ainosuke asked, his tone entirely innocent, and Shimada turned to look back at his younger counterpart, blinking a little too quickly.

“Oh, nothing at all, Shindo-san. I was only concerned that Kikuchi-kun seems a little unwell. Would it not be better to give him the day off? He seems to be a good worker, so it would be unfortunate if something were to happen to him, right?”

“That’s what he says, Kikuchi-kun. What do you say? Do you need the day off?” Ainosuke called back carelessly, his voice infused with the hint of a challenge--something that only Tadashi could hear--and Tadashi bowed slightly, tensing at the feeling of something biting into his skin.

“Thank you for your concern, Shimada-sensei, but I am well.” Tadashi was glad that his voice remained steady, although Shimada didn’t seem to be entirely convinced. Still, he continued to walk with Ainosuke until they reached the younger man’s office, and Ainosuke paused with one hand on the doorknob, still chatting amiably while his other hand rested in his pocket. And Tadashi tensed again, the papers in his hand trembling slightly as he continued to stand ramrod straight, his eyes glazing over slightly while the conversation flowed around him.

“... look forward to working with you again.”

The two men shook hands, and Tadashi noticed Shimada’s eyes on him again, but then Ainosuke was pushing open his door and walking into the room. So Tadashi just inclined his head slightly in farewell before stiffly following his master inside and closing the door behind him. The light in the room faded as his master drew the curtains, letting only a sliver of the afternoon sun enter the room, and in the instant that the door snicked closed, Ainosuke was on him, whirling around to grab him by the hair and pull his head back, painfully.

“Slut.”

Tadashi whimpered slightly as his legs trembled, but he didn’t respond as his master leaned forward, his breath hot against Tadashi’s ear.

“You were leading him on, weren’t you? Did you feel good when he noticed you, when he was oh-so-concerned about your health? You’re just like a bitch in heat: you’ll let anyone bend you over and fuck you if I’m not holding onto your leash, won’t you?”

“No,” Tadashi protested softly, wincing when his master tugged on his hair again. “Please, Master…”

“Please, Master,” Ainosuke mocked, shoving his secretary aside. Tadashi stumbled before collapsing onto the carpet, crying out desperately when the vibrator inside him shifted again, pressing up against his prostate while it buzzed and Tadashi flinched on the floor, shuddering and gasping and trying to hold himself back.

“You filthy dog.”

His master crouched over him, reaching out to pull off his tie before slowly unbuttoning Tadashi’s shirt and pulling the collar apart to reveal a leather band that encircled his neck. With agonizing slowness, he slipped each individual button out of its hole, letting the cloth fall open to reveal the thin red ropes that wrapped around Tadashi tightly and left marks where they had rubbed against his pale skin. The cords slipped even lower, under the waistband of his pants, and Ainosuke reached into his own pocket, pulling out a small remote.

"You look like that, and you're arguing with me?" he asked, his voice silky and cruel. "If Shimada-sensei had even touched you, you probably would have come all over yourself, wouldn't you?"

The vibrator suddenly thrummed harder inside Tadashi, who shook his head desperately, staring up at Ainosuke with wide, wet eyes.

"No. No, no, no," he whined. His thighs were twitching, and he tried to curl up around himself, only to be pinned down by his master's hand on his chest. There was nowhere for him to escape from that hungry, hot gaze, but Tadashi still squirmed as his flush spread from his cheeks down his neck and to his heaving chest.

It had been equal parts humiliating and exhilarating, following Ainosuke around all day with his body restrained and a vibrator in his ass. But he’d been able to manage, at least up to the point when his master had first turned it on while debate raged on the floor and he waited patiently outside with the other secretaries. It had started out slowly, a gentle teasing that he could mostly ignore. As much as he wanted to rush to the bathroom, somewhere away from other eyes, he forced himself to stay where he was, making small talk: he knew that his master would be exceedingly disappointed if he escaped--not just from the situation, but also from the range of the remote. And it had been worth it when he watched the representatives file out as they broke for lunch, watching Ainosuke’s eyes look around for him before he smiled in apparent satisfaction when he saw Tadashi right where he’d left him.

Ainosuke had turned it off then, for the walk back to the office and then to the car. And naively, Tadashi had thought that that was the end of it, that his master surely wouldn’t do anything in such an open, public space. But as he was placing his lunch order with the waitress, the toy jumped inside him, too sudden for him to stifle his gasp of surprise. It had startled the woman as well, but before she could ask if he was alright, he explained it away as having knocked his foot against the leg of the table, his cheeks pink with embarrassment while Ainosuke laughed softly and the vibrator fell silent. Tadashi had barely tasted his meal, tense with the expectation that his master would flick it on again. But Ainosuke had been as perverse as always, leaving him unmolested even when he was paying the bill and all the way back to the Diet.

And then Ainosuke had returned to the afternoon deliberations, and for the next few hours, Tadashi was forced to find a seat by the chambers with his folders laid over his lap, flinching slightly each time the toy came to life. There was no predictability to when his master would torment him, how intensely or for how long, and more than once, he’d had to dig his nails into his palms to distract himself from the sensations that rippled through his body. Even so, he waited for his master with a tense anticipation, holding himself up with a fragile veneer of self-control. Until Ainosuke had emerged in lively conversation with Shimada.

“Please,” Tadashi begged, his breath coming in desperate gasps as he writhed under Ainosuke, fighting against the waves of pleasure that sought to drag him under.

“Please what?”

“Come. Let me come,” Tadashi cried out, all traces of the steady, stoic assistant gone. He stood on the very edge of control, feeling the rope that bound him to reality slowly unraveling, thread by thread. But he couldn’t let go, not without his master’s permission, so he clung to it with desperate claws, his fingers biting into his master’s wrist. Through his watery vision, he saw Ainosuke bare his teeth in a slow smile, and then the movement stopped. Tadashi choked on a sob at the sudden feeling of emptiness, his hips thrusting against the air as he tried to not lose the feeling. And Ainosuke’s low chuckle was overlaid with the metallic clinking of a belt buckle.

“You’re so selfish, puppy. Do you really think that you deserve to come, when you haven’t done anything for your master?”

His voice had changed, gaining a more playful lilt beneath its sharp edges, and Tadashi’s harsh gasps were suddenly silenced by Ainosuke’s mouth pressed over his. Tadashi moaned into the kiss, his lips parting to allow his master’s tongue to snake into his mouth, lightly teasing and caressing. His body was still on fire, and he leaned up into his master, panting desperately into his master’s mouth as he kissed him back, wet and sloppy and demanding.

Cool, elegant fingers slipped under the lower edge of his collar, pulling it tighter around his throat and making Tadashi whimper softly as Ainosuke broke the kiss and drew away before tugging him up into a sitting position. His nose was nearly pressed against the fabric drawn tight over his master’s crotch, and his eyes were slightly glazed as he leaned forward, drawing his tongue along the warm metal of the zipper until he caught the end between his teeth before carefully drawing it down. He heard Ainosuke sigh softly as he was released from the confining cloth, and the fingers twisted in his collar let go, winding tightly into his hair instead, tugging and sending shocks down his spine.

The smell of his master’s musk, dark and arousing, encouraged him to press his mouth against the outline in Ainosuke’s underwear, and his master’s grip on his hair tightened while Ainosuke hissed. With deliberate slowness, Tadashi mouthed the thickening erection, nuzzled it with his nose, breathed in the deepening smell... and when he finally couldn’t wait any longer, he carefully sank his teeth into the waistband and began to draw it down, shivering when his master’s hot and heavy cock sprang free and brushed against his cheek.

“Good boy.” The soft praise made him shiver again, and Tadashi wrapped his tongue around the head of Ainosuke’s cock, drawing it into his mouth. His tongue rubbed firmly under the edge of the flared head and swirled around the tip, and then he was reaching up with his hand, encircling his master’s shaft before releasing Ainosuke with a soft, wet pop. His hand slid upward, the thumb gently caressing the sensitive tip while he dragged his tongue lower. After a moment when his head prickled more painfully, the hand in his hair let go, letting him trace the underside of his master’s cock and feel the heat burn his tongue and his lips until he settled at the root. And carefully, he began to lavish his attention on Ainosuke’s smooth, velvety balls.

"Fuck." Above him, Ainosuke swore softly, and Tadashi finally smiled as he continued to lick the heavy sac, his hand stroking his master in a steady rhythm. And then, when he’d covered every inch of it with his tongue and it was slick with his spit, he opened his mouth wide, his tongue reaching out to carefully guide the sensitive organs inside. Ainosuke groaned, low and dirty, making his own painfully hard cock twitch as he sucked on it lightly, running his tongue over the surface and along the slight cleft. He hummed contentedly as he rolled them around his mouth, feeling his master twitch under his hand, Ainosuke's breath finally starting to falter.

Tadashi continued to service his master, his mouth stuffed and his hand flicking up and down Ainosuke's shaft, twisting around under the head and firmly pressing down to his mouth until Ainosuke was making soft, needy sounds, his hips thrusting up into the circle of his fingers. Tadashi opened his mouth wide, letting his master tug himself free before guiding Ainosuke's cock into his mouth. His hand led the way, sliding down the thick length while his mouth trailed slightly behind, slowly swallowing his master and caressing him with his tongue until his nose was pressed against Ainosuke's hip. Just as carefully, he withdrew, enjoying the sounds of his master's pleasure and knowing that he was the one drawing them out. And then he finally began to fuck himself in earnest on his master's cock, bobbing up and down, choking a little each time the tip hit the back of his mouth and letting his throat clench around his master. The more vigorous movement caused the ropes binding him to rub against his skin, making him moan softly while his own hips twitched and drawing a chuckle out of Ainosuke.

"Such a good puppy. So good for me," Ainosuke whispered, and Tadashi moaned more loudly, his master's words echoing in his ears as the cords bit into his body while the wet spot on his underwear continued to grow. He struggled to focus on pleasuring his master as his own feelings threatened to swamp him, and then Ainosuke's hands settled firmly around his head, tangling in his hair and holding on to him while his master took over. The first thrust was rough and hard, driving into his throat and making Tadashi gag, but he relaxed as Ainosuke's hips snapped upward again and he forced Tadashi's head lower, demanding that he accept all of him... and Tadashi did. He kept his lips pressed tightly around his master's cock as his mouth was violated, his drool spilling over Ainosuke's member to ease the friction. Each thrust was wet and sloppy, accompanied by a primal grunt as Ainosuke increased the pace.

Panting and groaning, he shoved Tadashi's head down one last time, holding him against his crotch as his hips rotated, trying to push even deeper before his cock swelled and began to twitch, emptying himself down Tadashi's throat while his assistant struggled to breathe. And then it was over, and Ainosuke was pulling away, collapsing onto his couch and leaving Tadashi gasping, feeling empty. And yet, he was so close to bursting that tears of frustration pricked at his eyes while he crawled towards his master.

"Ainosuke-sama," he begged, his voice hoarse, and Ainosuke looked down at him, crouched at his feet. With deliberate slowness, he tucked himself away while Tadashi stared at him with wet, desperate eyes, his cheeks inflamed as his body shook with the effort of holding himself back, waiting for his master's permission. And when Ainosuke finally spoke again, his voice was steady and measured, but warm with approval. And just that was nearly enough to push him over the edge.

"I did promise, didn't I? This should be enough for you, right?" He raised his foot before pressing it down on the tent in Tadashi's pants. And Tadashi gasped again as sparks of pleasure radiated outward from the pressure. Unable to hold back, he began to hump the sole of his master's shoe, and his eyes widened when the vibrator turned on again, pressing up against his prostate while it stimulated him ruthlessly. His head tilted back, his mouth falling open as he cried out with the force of his release, tears of relief falling from his eyes. And then he collapsed as if he was a puppet whose strings had all been cut. He shuddered and sobbed at his master's feet until Ainosuke finally released him from the torture, the toy falling silent once more.

And then Ainosuke was also kneeling beside him, helping him up to his knees before pulling him into an embrace, rubbing one hand in small circles on his back above the rope while the other rested on the back of his head, pressing his face into his master's shoulder.

"Good boy, Tadashi. You did so good. I'm so proud of you, puppy." He continued to murmur soft reassurances while Tadashi shook in his arms, his breathing harsh and broken. Gradually, the warmth and affection sank into him, slowly bringing him back down as his tremors slowed before stopping, his frantic gulps of air settling into a more steady rhythm. But Ainosuke continued to hold onto him for a few minutes longer before carefully drawing back and tilting Tadashi's head up so that they could look at each other.

"Good?" Ainosuke asked, and Tadashi nodded, his cheeks still flushed but his eyes clear again. And his master leaned over to press a soft kiss against his lips before getting to his feet and helping Tadashi up. Carefully, Tadashi began to button his shirt up, shifting uncomfortably at the feeling of the mess in his pants. He felt his master's eyes on him as he walked over to their bags, pulling out a fresh pair of underwear and pants. When he stripped, more of the thin, scarlet cords were revealed, trailing over his hips and around his cock before riding up the cleft of his ass and disappearing under the edge of his shirt. But he quickly re-dressed himself before putting away the soiled garments and picking up the bag, taking a deep breath before he turned to face his master.

"Are you ready to go home?" he asked, once again the perfect, composed secretary.

[gohyuck]

5+9+23 ? With Jaemin.

originally requested by @heyyyun ! my tumblr kept glitching so i copy/pasted your ask into my askbox lol.

based on this post

this was a fun combo of requests lol... and the freaky friday things definitely threw me for a loop. it got lowkey nsfw really fast, too, so there’s that. outright female reader

ft. a horny jeno lmfao

5) roommates

9) freaky friday

23) i thought you hated me but i just accidentally sent you a booty text and you accepted and i am seriously considering it

you aren’t living with jaemin because you want to.

it’s something you make very clear to any and everyone you know - jaemin is your roommate out of your necessity, not out of your choice. he was the first and only person to answer the desperate ad you’d placed in the newspaper when you’d realized you wouldn’t make rent without a roommate, and, before you could find any other option, you were stuck with him.

now, you refuse to be gotten wrong: it isn’t like he’s the worst roommate ever. he can cook, and he cleans up well enough, and he’s never made a late payment. hell, he’s even courteous and about as well-mannered as any guy in his early twenties can get, so you can’t really complain on that front. he’s nice to your friends and always lets you know before having company over, and he doesn’t hesitate to ask if you need anything before he goes shopping for himself. he isn’t a bad guy, by any means.

what he is is an incorrigible and unstoppable flirt.

for his part, he isn’t too thrilled with you either - ‘my little prude’ seems to be his favorite go to nickname for you as of late, and you’d be lying if it didn’t bother you. still, you suppose, you aren’t too gentle in calling him a manwhore to his face. he only ever laughs, seemingly delighted to wear the title like a badge.

even now, you can hear the girl in your living room giggling at something your roommate has said, his own voice just a little too low for you to hear from the confines of your bedroom. he’d texted you during lunch to tell you he’d have a date over, and you’d sent him back four successive eyeroll emojis. he’d taken your annoyance as a ‘yes, please eyefuck your newest fling for two hours while sitting on the couch i paid for’ and now you’re stuck, crosslegged on your bed with your laptop at half mast and one earphone in, other ear listening to jaemin turn his charisma up to the highest it can go for what will culminate in, at most, yet another one night stand that’ll have you wishing for soundproof walls.

you sigh as she laughs again, followed by jaemin saying something along the lines of ‘let me pour you some more’. there’s a faint clink of glasses and a sudden lowering of their voices, and you decide it’s best if you put your other earphone in.

some things aren’t worth the mental scarring.

it’s almost two hours later when you finish with the essay you’re working on, pull your earphones out of your ears and place the case gingerly on your nightstand, and shut your laptop down for the night. you can’t hear anything from out in the living room, and, surprisingly, there’s no unsavory sounds coming in from jaemin’s room down the hall, either. maybe they’ve already had their fun, you ponder.

she’ll slink out of your apartment in the morning, you guess. maybe you’ll be nice and offer her pancakes on her way out.

you grab your phone from where you’d thrown it haphazardly onto your bed earlier. there’s plenty of text messages lighting up your screen, most of which you ignore. one catches your eye immediately, though.

from: jeno ;)

i’ve been thinking about you.

his text has you quirking an eyebrow, but as you scroll up to find the picture that accompanies it, you take a sharp breath, your teeth sinking into your lower lip on impulse.

you’ve been fucking jeno for weeks, but even now the sight of his prominent bulge covered only by thin gray sweatpants has your mouth watering. the two of you are good friends - surprising, considering he’s jaemin’s best friend - and you know what you have will never amount to a real relationship. it’s the healthiest you can imagine a friends-with-benefits relationship to be, and you’re grateful for it.

and for the sex. god, are you grateful for the sex.

you rush to change out of the ratty old band shirt and boy shorts you’re wearing, opting to switch them out for a lace set you’d bought recently that you’ve been dying to show off. you clasp the bra easily before you pull on the matching light pink underwear.

as you settle in front of the floor length mirror that leans against your closet door, you can’t help but let your thoughts wander to jaemin. his little prude, huh? you laugh to yourself, wondering how he’d react if he knew you got dicked down semi-regularly by jeno. just because you aren’t as obvious as he is doesn’t mean you aren’t getting any.

you switch positions until you find a pose that’s just right, capturing your bitten bottom lip, the swell of your breasts, and how the lace hugs your hips. before you can second guess yourself, you snap a picture. 

if only jaemin could see you now.

you type out a short message - see something you like? maybe you should come over and look closer - and hit send, staring at your reflection for a bit longer before pushing yourself off the floor and back up onto your bed. it’s late, far too late for jeno to take you up on your offer, but it can’t hurt to ask. hell, maybe he’ll come over anyways. maybe you can make jaemin wish his walls were soundproof for once.

your phone vibrates in your hand, pulling you out of your thoughts of revenge against your roommate. you glance down, ready to respond cheekily to whatever jeno has said, and -

oh.

from: jaemin :/

fuck

yes

i wouldn’t mind, sweetheart. still, you could’ve asked in person. i’m only a door away, you know

your eyes widen in panic as you realize that, because you’d been thinking of jaemin earlier, you’d typed his name in and not jeno’s, resulting in you sending your honest-to-god nudes to your roommate. you rush to rectify your mistake, your fingers flying as you type a frantic response.

even as you hurry to tell him not to show up to your room naked, which you’re very afraid of him doing whether he has a girl over or not, a voice in the back of your mind can’t help but perk up.

i mean, jaemin is kind of hot, it says, actively laughing at your predicament. you wouldn’t mind being underneath him as he-

"shit!” you hiss out loud, acting as if swearing will distract you for your own thoughts. you press send, cursing the universe for causing your life to lead up to this moment as you do. 

to: jaemin :/

FUCK they weren’t meant for you 

please delete and pretend this never happened

+ don’t you have someone over????

his response comes quickly, and you brace yourself to read them. 

from: jaemin

lol PLEASE as if you have someone to sends nudes to

but yes i’ll delete :(

she left like an hour ago, not really my type

for the sake of your sanity you choose not to respond, only liking his message about deleting the picture you’d sent. you switch out your lace set for the clothes you’d had on earlier, not even bothering to respond to jeno as you’d meant to earlier. as you put your phone on charge and turn out your light for the night, you do your best to force yourself to sleep. 

hopefully, this whole ordeal will have blown over in the morning. 

♕ ♕ ♕

the first thing you notice when you wake up is how insanely bright the sun is. the white curtains on your window do nothing to stop the light from pouring into the room, and you - wait.

white curtains?

you look around, taking in the beat up ryan plushie on top of the bookshelf in the corner of the room and the gaming chair at the desk. as you become more and more awake, your setting makes itself obvious. 

once you realize it, you bolt upright, wondering what the hell you’re doing in jaemin’s room, especially when jaemin is nowhere to be found. you know you don’t sleepwalk, and you know for a fact that you’d fallen asleep in your own bed. 

it’s only as you swing your legs out of bed and happen to glance down at them that you realize what has happened.

before you can say anything, however, you hear a voice - your own voice exclaim a loud ‘what the hell?’ from down the hall. you rush out of your - jaemin’s - room, only to immediately run into what looks to be your own body.

“(name)?” it says, and you gulp before nodding.

“jaemin?”

♕ ♕ ♕

“look,” you say, pinching your - jaemin’s - nose bridge. “we’ve been arguing for like an hour, now. it’s obvious that neither of us know why this happened, so we might as well try to figure out what we can do to make it un-happen!”

“it’s because you sent me that nude,” he says, running a hand through his - your - hair. “the universe reset itself out of shock at seeing you do something remotely sexual.”

“if i was in my own body, i’d kick your ass right now,” you swear, pushing yourself up off of the dining table which you’d been leaning against. you take a threatening step towards jaemin. he laughs. 

“if i was in my own body, i’d... i’d probably be jerking off right now, to be honest. i miss my dick.”

you wince in disgust, staring down at his - your - face. “better not be to my picture.”

he shakes his - your - head at this, though not without raising his eyebrow at you. “i’m not a complete asshole - i deleted when you asked me to.”

“thank you,” you respond, not sure what else is to say. jaemin nods sagely before a grin starts spreading across his face.

“you know, maybe we have to recreate last night to fix it. do the same things, you know? who was the message meant for last night? maybe i’ll send them another one today.”

the thought of jaemin taking nudes of your body makes you feel dizzy in both bad and good ways. you realize he actually expects you to tell him, and you find yourself shaking your head no in response.

he quirks an eyebrow of yours. 

“what, don’t want me to know? it’s not like i’ll tell anyone, you know. i mean-”

“it’s not that,” you hurry to tell him, and he smirks at you in return. 

“no? then what is it?”

before you can respond, jaemin continues speaking, and you realize his question had been rhetorical. “oh, i know!” he says, sounding as if he’s had the realization of a lifetime. “you meant to send it to me, didn’t you? you just lied and got cold feet, after. i knew it! there’s no way you’re actually-”

in your haste to get jaemin to shut the hell up and your current inability to think straight, you cross the space between you two in one stride before pressing your mouth against his (or, you guess, his mouth against yours), desperate to get him to stop talking. your eyes are screwed shut anyways, so you don’t see his slide shut. 

the two of you stay like that for what feels like an eternity before you pull away.  

“i’m so sorry-” you start, opening your eyes to peer sheepishly up at jaemin. 

wait. 

up?

you blink once, twice, before bursting out into laughter. jaemin, after overcoming his own befuddlement does the same. 

“oh my god, i can’t believe that fixed it,” you say once you get over the shock of being back in your own body. “holy shit.”

“i can’t believe any of that happened in the first place,” jaemin says, and you nod in agreement. a silence falls between the two of you almost immediately as you both try to figure out what to say to each other now. 

you glance around the room, searching for something to fixate your gaze on. you know jaemin is doing the same beside you. before you can say something embarrassing - you’re seriously considering patting him on the back and going ‘good work out there’ - jaemin rests his hands lightly against your waist, forcing you to meet his eyes with yours. 

“i kind of wish i’d experienced our kiss from inside my own body,” he says, and you search his face for an iota of a joke, something that says he’s messing with you. 

there’s none to be found. you reach a hand up to rest against the back of his neck and, before you know it, you’re cupping the back of his head and pulling his lips to yours once again, though this one is much more passionate than the last. his hands tighten their grips on your waist as he pulls you flush against him, and you tangle your fingers in his hair.

once you pull away, you can’t bring yourself to leave his grasp. instead, you ask him the question that’s burning on your mind. 

“do you want to see the lace set in person?”

your roommate nods, his excited actions directly contrasting his dark, hooded gaze. he lets you take his hand in yours, allowing you to drag him to your room. just as you shove open your bedroom door, however, jaemin speaks again. 

“out of curiosity, who was the picture meant for?”

you stare at him for one, two beats before sighing, wincing right after. he gazes back at you both steadily and expectantly, and you figure you may as well say it. 

“it ... it was meant for jeno.” 

"what?”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

“You’re not trying hard enough”

CW: Pet whump, whump of a minor, institutionalized brutality, facility whump, shock collars, noncon touching (nonsexual), victim-blaming, bullying,brief emeto mention, noncon references

"I'm trying, sir!"

"You're not trying hard enough."

223499 tenses where he stands carefully ironing a crisp white button-up, but it isn't him the trainer is talking to, and he lets out a soft, silent sigh of relief. Green eyes take a hurried, furtive look, seeing one of the others, the older trainees, with the handler who does the training standing right in front of him.

The older boy is skinny and sleepy and he's left the iron to sit too long, made new wrinkles instead of fixing the old ones.

223499 lowers his eyes back to his work as the handler presses his thumb to a small black remote. His shoulders jerk as the boy cries out in pain and drops to the ground, narrowly missing pulling the ironing board down with him.

A boy did that, in the last class. 223499 threw up after seeing the burn. Then he didn't eat for... a while... in punishment.

He sets his jaw and stares straight down, letting the dog of his mind help him keep his movements precise and slow.

The boy weeps, and then he's dragged up by one arm and told to do it again, and do it right this time.

223499 never looks back. When the handler leans over him from behind to check his work, he trembles, waiting for the snapped words, the anger, the punishment for him. A heavy hand lays over the back of his neck, too warm, but he only shivers and doesn't pull away.

"Good job, pet," The handler says, and moves on.

223499 breathes out, trying not to choke on the lingering scent of the handler's cologne. All of them do, as he passes by them one by one.

223499's lips thin, pressed to a line with no definition in his narrow face, when he hears the handler's voice change, as he speaks to a Domestic in training on the end. He chances a look, to see the handler's mouth over the boy's ear, the look of terrified resignation on the trainee's face.

Sometimes, handlers have favorites, 223499 knows that. They pick you, the trainees talk about it in the moments of silence they sometimes find together and pretend is a kind of safety.

When the handler walks away, moves to the corner to set up the next lesson and makes a racket unloading a garment rack, 223499 hears one boy hiss towards the Domestic at the end, "Handler's pet. You think you're a fucking Romantic now? Spread your legs for easy treatment like they do?"

The trainee's eyes well up with tears, and 223499 pretends he doesn't see them - or hear the words.

"Gonna be a slut like 499," Another one taunts, in a vicious whisper. "He gets to sleep in a handler's room."

"I, I don't want to," 223499 whispers, but no one is listening to him.

"I don't have a choice!" The other trainee says, and there's another disbelieving snort.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Hope that extra food makes it worth acting like him."

223499 hunches over even more, face red, eyes closed.

"Hey, fuck off him," A third trainee speaks up. "He's just a kid, he hasn't done anything to you. You know he gets hurt if he doesn't do it just like we do."

"Yeah, whatever. Bet his back's a lot less fucked up than mine."

"That's not his fault. He hasn't done anything-"

"Sure has, he fucking snitched to Handler Petrus about those apples we hid from maintenance, fucking snitch Romantics."

"I, I did not! I did not tell!" 223499 turns, hands in fists at his sides, trying to glare. The iron drops onto the shirt behind him, but he doesn't see it. "I, I, I didn't!"

"Sure, slut. We know it was you." He meets furious dead dark eyes, one set and then another. Angry, mean eyes. This group is almost all Domestics, and they hate him for his designation, but he has to be here - his prospective wants him to know these things. He has to learn it all so he can go home, so he can have a home at all.

"It wasn't! I, I wouldn't!"

"Bet it was. Who else, huh? You're the one sniffing around after Handler Petrus all the time."

"He's my my, my, my, my primary!"

"I have a primary, too, we all do. But you're the only one sleeping in his primary's bed-"

"Shut, shut up, I hate it! I, I hate sleeping there! I don't want to, I don't!"

One of the trainees taunting him gives a mean smile and points. "Oh, no, while you were throwing your tantrum you just set your shirt on fire, pretty boy."

223499 spins around to see smoke coming up from the shirt where the iron has been steadily burning in. Panic and dread mix inside him as he pulls it off, too late, it's already scorched. Irredeemable.

Ruined.

"Oh, no. Oh no oh no oh, oh, oh, oh no-"

"What's this racket?" The handler's voice rings out sharp and clear and every trainee straightens into Position One - all except 223499, staring wide-eyed at the pristine white shirt now scorched and worthless.

"223499?" The handler moves next to him and 223499 scrambles back, breathing in panicked whistles as the handler takes in the scorching and gives a heavy sigh. "Bad pet. You've been doing so well, too. I was going to recommend you for... Well, it doesn't matter. Take your discipline."

223499's muscles lock up just before the handler hits the button on his remote and the burst of agony follows on its heels.

He drops to the ground with a low cry and sees, through his tears, the trainee who called him names smirking at his pain.

They hurt and hurt and hurt here - he never understands why they take that hurt and turn it on each other.

He doesn't understand why they turn it on him.

[tobesobri]

𝓐h okay sorry again for the delay, my last two brain cells don’t work apparently but I really hope you guys don’t hate me too much after this one 😬

huge massive thank you to the incredible @youresogolden-h for editing ❤️

CHAPTER EIGHT: HURTS WHEN I’M LEAVING YOU (3.7K)

Harry and Y/N are friends…. with benefits, but not the kinds you’re thinking of.

🥥MASTERLIST 🌃INSPO TAG 🌻ASK TAG 💃PLAYLIST 🛌

Harry placed two silver-plated keys, bound together by a thin piece of faux leather tied in a secure knot, on her thigh while joining her on his couch. She had just finished tying up her shoes when he reappeared in the living room.

She stared at the keys carefully before picking them up and looking at him quizzically until he gave her an answer.

“I thought it a bit weird if you stopped sleeping at your coworker’s place the same time I was out of town.”

She glanced at the keys again in her hand. He wanted her to come over while he was gone. To sleep in his bed without him. To simply be in his house when he wasn’t, knowing full well how his last relationship had gone and still he trusted her with something like that.

He was quieter the next time he spoke. “And if you want to come over to look at the lights while I’m away.”

He wanted to tell her it was overdue, that he’d wanted to give her keys their first consistent week together because it would have been easier. But he had been too scared of how that might come across because it was a huge step for him, letting someone in, and he was worried she might think he deserved what happened to him in the past if he was truly that reckless. But now, there was no fear at all. He trusted her with a huge portion of his life, if not all of it.

“Why are there two?” She finally asked.

He glanced at them in her palm and then back at her. “There’s two locks on the door. The smaller one,” he picked up the one he was talking about, “opens the lock on top. And this one,” he set the small key down and pointed at the next, “the main lock.”

He scooted closer to her at some point when explaining the keys and she only knew it because of how her heart raced, which was the weirdest thing for her heart to be having a meltdown over, since Harry being close was nothing new to her at this point. But here she was, hyper fixated over the way his knee touched hers and how his fingertips had brushed against her palm and how close his voice was to her ear, she could suddenly pick out the intricate details of his broken accent. Like how some words he pronounced were as British as it got, and others were a little more California. She wondered if, when he spent more time home, his accent bounced back to how it was supposed to sound.

“Should also mention there’s a security system,” he pointed his gaze to a pin-pad on the wall near the front door she had always known about, having seen him punch numbers into it countless times before they went upstairs, but never thought about in too much depth. “I’ll leave you the code. You have to put it in when you get here and before you go to bed.”

There it was. The confirmation that she was fully allowed to sleep here if she wanted to. She had assumed that’s what he meant when he gave her the keys, but it settled her worries knowing she had verbal permission to do so.

And with everything she needed to know about his home while he was away, and their sarcastic little goodbyes to one another out of the way, the only thing he had left to do was pack a suitcase and meet his team at the airport.

Amongst searching his drawers for a particular pair of jeans he wanted, however, he came across her drawer. The one that kept filling up with her clothes, whether it was various pieces from her work outfits or her spare pajamas, it had become her little space in his closet. And once his eyes landed on one of her plain heather grey shirts, there was no stopping him from smuggling it into his suitcase. Just for good measure.

Just so that when he was in his lonely New York hotel room, the nights went a little easier knowing he had a piece of her with him. It wasn’t nearly enough, however, when he still lost vital

hours of sleep and showed up to his six a.m. meetings looking and acting hungover even though he hadn’t had a stitch of alcohol.

“It’s the jetlag,” he had excused when Jeff had asked about the bags under his eyes and the third cup of coffee. He knew very well he was running on about four collective hours of sleep since Tuesday and it was getting a bit ridiculous at this point.

Thursday night was when things changed, or at least he hoped they would. Sick of going back to his room alone before eight o’clock, he finally agreed to get drinks instead. He finally had some amount of human interaction outside of work. Outside of discussions about album sales and what his sophomore era might look like.

He was done with all of it by the time he got down a burning shot of tequila that Jeff had ordered for their entire group.

“You look tired, man,” Dan planted his arm around Harry’s shoulders, practically shaking him back to life. He was a new producer they’d been working with on the album and right now Harry preferred the sting of the alcohol over the way Dan squeezed his shoulders so recklessly. It made him long for the way Y/N touched him, always careful and delicate.

“He doesn’t sleep,” Jeff offered, recalling the three a.m. text messages he’d received from Harry on Wednesday to prove his point. Harry remained quiet with a permanent grimace on his face, seeking out more alcohol.

“You need to get laid!” Dan exclaimed, shaking his poor shoulders again, and just about doing Harry’s head in. As much as he tried to hide it, a look of pure disgust rolled onto Harry’s face because for the first time in... however long, he didn’t want sex. Didn’t even want to think about it. He just wanted Y/N. That was it. If it wasn’t her in his bed, he wanted nothing to do with it.

And he realized at that point that Will had been right. He was helplessly in love with someone who might not ever love him back.

He took another shot and found his attention being pulled away from his immediate table to a flash of hair swooping halfway across the club from where they sat. It was definitely his mind, and the alcohol swimming around in it, doing tricks on him, but he could have easily mistaken her for Y/N. It was the hair, he thought. It was the exact same, at least under the piss poor lighting, but to the point where he smelled coconut in his nostrils even though there was nothing physical around him that was remotely close to smelling like her. His nose was so used to her, and missed her so much, it was making shit up out of thin air.

And with a few more shots and a little bit of flirting later, he wasn’t so alone when he stepped through the door of his hotel room Thursday night.

He wasn’t alone when he got to his bedroom, when the girl’s hands were already undressing him and he was comparing it to when Y/N had unbuttoned his shirt that one drunken night. She’d been so soft and gentle, though. So very unlike how it was now. It was going too fast for him, especially when she accidentally scratched her nails against his abs and kissed him so impatiently, he wasn’t even sure what he was doing anymore.

Nevertheless, he was drunk and she looked like Y/N if he squinted hard enough, so he let her undress him all the way to the bed where she crawled on top of him and undid his jeans. He had no clue what her name was and although he felt horrible about it, he was positive it was better that way. Particularly when she got her hands on him and he saw stars behind his eyelids. He tilted his head back towards the wall behind them with a gasp when it was her mouth next. Her name was extremely unimportant when he pretended it was Y/N every time the girl traced her fingers across the tattoos on his hips.

Even when she was on top of him, giving him all the warmth he’d been craving, he still pretended she was someone else when she kissed him again, when she ran her hands through his hair, and when he dug his fingers into her hips.

He closed his eyes through all of it and imagined being with Y/N like that. 

He was so fucking fucked.

The ding of his phone as it vibrated on the bedside table woke him hours later. It was still dark outside, that much he knew. He also knew that whatever sloppy sex he’d had was not worth it when the girl had turned the other way and fell asleep with her back facing him, several inches apart. He could have gone without the sex, but holding on to someone while he slept? That was harder to go without.

Shaking his head clear of his stupid, drunken mistakes, he pressed the button on the side of his phone, lighting the entire room with his screen before he lowered the brightness and read the text message waiting for him.

He squinted at it at first, realizing it wasn’t a message, but rather a picture. Either way, he swiped it open quickly because the least he knew was that it was from Y/N.

Tapping the picture open, he quickly saw that it was of her when he zoomed in on what she hadn’t cropped out of her face. It was her, standing in front of the mirror in his closet dressed in her typical casual attire apart from one thing.

She was wearing his bright pink suit jacket he’d worn on the Today Show a couple years ago.

He couldn’t help but smile, even wider the longer he looked at it. When he pulled the covers off of himself and sat up on the edge of the bed, he even laughed at it, as quietly as he could manage, while he attempted to tame his hair by pulling his clammy fingers through it.

While typing his message, he tried not to think about her rummaging through his closet. Her light touch spreading across the various colors and textures of his clothes. He tried not to acknowledge the overwhelming fluttering in his chest.

(Harry, 3:13 am, NY time)

Looks better on you.

He waited patiently while the three little dots from her side of the conversation disappeared and a new bubble from her popped up in its place.

(Y/N, 3:13 am, NY time)

I know.

He couldn’t help his laughter then, glancing behind him only when he heard the other girl shuffle under the hotel sheets, realizing for the first time in the past few minutes that she was still there.

Instead, he gathered himself and went out into the living room, snagging a shirt from his drawer to slip on and turning the heater up a few notches on his way out.

(Harry, 3:24 am, NY time)

Finally missed me then?

His next text was sent once he was settled on the couch without a single light on. He had the moon and his phone screen though, and that was enough.

(Y/N, 3:25 am, NY time)

I missed the heated floors in your bathroom actually.

He laughed again at her response, not having been this happy his entire trip. Not even remembering the last time he genuinely smiled since he’d been with her on Tuesday morning. It was very much needed. Even if it was past three a.m. in his timezone.

While he thought about what to say next, he slipped his shirt on over his head for some relief from the chilly room. What he didn’t expect, however, was to smell her shampoo again. And then her perfume. He smelled all of her like she was there in the room next to him. And it wasn’t his nose being a little bitch again.

Looking down at himself, he realized he’d grabbed her shirt. The light grey, oversized one. It had fit a little baggier than all the ones he had packed, but he didn’t make much of it until his senses were filled with everything he loved about her.

He was really, really fucked.

His phone dinged twice more.

(Y/N, 3:27 am, NY time)

Sorry I didn’t realize how late it was there. 

Goodnight harry :)

She set her phone down on the top of one of his shelves. If his closet was anything, it was well-organized. After slipping out of Harry’s pink jacket, she neatly replaced it back onto the rack with his other nice coats. She didn’t want to know how much money she’d just squeezed herself into, but Harry didn’t seem to mind.

And she hoped he wouldn’t mind her wandering hands as she slipped them into a drawer she knew he kept his shirts in. She’d meant to go in his closet, secure her own pajamas, and be out. But she saw the bright pink and got distracted. And now she was even more distracted while she pulled out a black t-shirt of his and slipped into it instead. He would never know and she would get a little bit of relief.

Once she had it on though, and she looked at herself in the mirror, she felt horrible about it. Here she was snooping about his wardrobe like she wasn’t supposed to be doing. He didn’t give her his spare keys so she could try his clothes on while he was away. Quickly, she pulled his shirt off and folded it neatly back into its spot.

She flipped off the light in his closet after getting what she needed from her designated drawer and retreated to his bed. It didn’t look the same as when she’d left it. He’d cleaned it up between then and now, making it neat for her again just in case she ended up here at some point. She didn’t expect to actually follow through, but her own sleepless nights got the best of her and by Thursday, she broke down and made the drive up to his house. She punched in the security code to turn the alarm off while she ate her takeout she’d picked up after work in his kitchen. Then she cleaned a little bit for him, putting away the dishes drying out on the counter and organizing his collection of cookbooks that were slowly falling over.

And now she was here, standing in the middle of his room while the whole of L.A. watched her sneak back into his closet to retrieve his black t-shirt once again.

With it secured, she removed her bra from underneath and then her jeans. And the cool air on her bare legs felt too good to cover herself in her plaid pajama bottoms. So, she went without them. She had never lived alone before, but she imagined this was what it felt like. Like she was

free. She could go around in a shirt with no pants on and not worry about anything. And it’s not like he would ever have to know the shirt she was walking around in was his.

She became obsessed with the way his shirt looked on her in the bathroom mirror as she finished her nightly routines. It was just a normal fucking crewneck but the fact that it had previously hugged his body at some point and smelled just fucking like him, it made her feel all sorts of ways. She especially felt not as alone anymore while she crawled into his bed by herself. She sat upright against his pillows for a while, on top of the blanket with her legs spread straight out in front of her and her ankles crossed over each other, flipping through apps on her phone until she had enough and then stared out at his all-too-familiar view.

She missed it almost as much as she missed him. She missed the feeling of him looking at her while she looked at the city. She missed his touch that pulled her back. She missed talking to him like she’d never missed talking to anyone else before.

She missed the way he sometimes glanced at her lips. The way he had giggled when she’d practically taken his shirt off of him in her bedroom and how soft his skin had been that made her feel less guilty about the whole thing. The way his muscles pulled tight across his back. The way his arms stretched over her body, flexing when he hugged her closer.

The way she was currently lost in her dreams about him. And his back and his shoulders and the beads of sweat that might exist on his silky skin if he were to...

She shook her head clear of that image. Because frankly, she really needed to stop thinking about Harry like that. It would never happen, and she knew that. But in her head, it made sense. In her head, he liked her back. He liked her enough to more than just sleep with her. He liked her enough in her head to be on top of her, filling her up while the entire city watched.

And then it just happened. Not that she didn’t feel bad about having her hands down the front of her panties in his shirt and in his bed at just the mere thought of him, but she couldn’t quite help it. She wished he was touching her instead, something she never thought about anyone else in real life before. And with her eyes closed, teetering her head further back into his pillows, enough that she got stronger whiffs of his scent, it was so easy to imagine him doing so.

She saw his hands behind her eyelids, gentle but eager to touch her, and she heard his voice close to her ear, his broken accent telling her it was okay to let go. Her mind had completely left reality, lost to the clouds even though her body remained in Harry’s bed. Her head in the clouds was a better place to be, however. Harry was there and he liked her the way she wanted him to.

She felt it in her chest before her mind even fully comprehended what Will was saying. It was a kind of pain she didn’t let herself feel often but when she did, it was the worst kind of hurt she ever faced.

Her morning had been the best she had all week, mostly due to the events of the previous night. Then there was the text from work telling her not to come in until eleven because of a cancelled meeting that only made the outlook for her day that much brighter. She cleaned up around Harry’s house some more, throwing his clothes into the laundry, including the shirt she’d slept in, while she showered, almost succumbing to her fucking thoughts all over again, but witholding by some grace of god.

She drove home to eat before going to work, craving a bowl of her usual Lucky Charms that not a single drive through breakfast could suffice.

But, when she was at the table surrounded by her roommates again, it had all gone to shit. She wished she had just gotten that fucking McMuffin and driven her ass to work instead. But no. She had to sit and listen while Will gave them all the daily report on Harry’s personal life. The part of him Y/N thought she knew quite well, but apparently she couldn’t have been more wrong.

Will showed off photos of a girl in Harry’s car taken earlier this morning in New York and Y/N suddenly lost her entire appetite.

“Do you know who she is, though?” Violet asked, having taken Will’s phone from him to scroll through all the candid photos and zoom in to try and figure it out.

“No, but I’m ninety-nine percent sure she’s the girl he told me about.” Will explained, causing Y/N’s eyebrows to furrow. Harry had talked to Will about a girl that he liked?

Why hadn’t he mentioned her to Y/N? Not even just last night when they were texting? Her mind started spiraling from there. She went as far as thinking that Harry might feel bad for her, that he didn’t know how to break off their situation and he’d just been stringing her along. All while he had someone he really wanted.

Or maybe he hadn’t been stringing her along at all, maybe she was just imagining something was there when it clearly wasn’t.

She shut it all off quickly before she found herself getting mad at Harry. “He told you about someone?” Violet asked, far too invested in Harry’s love life.

“Well, not much.” Will answered vaguely, “He was writing songs about her but he wouldn’t say who she was.”

“Found it!” Violet exclaimed, sharing the screen with Will again, “It says her name is Jessica,” Violet added fuel to the fire burning behind Y/N’s eyelids.

She hated that the first thing she thought of was his journal and the way he hid it away from her that first night she’d been at his place. She stared, empty, at her half-eaten bowl of cereal until she completely lost her appetite. Part of her knew her roommates were jumping the gun. Harry could be seen with a girl and not have any kind of romantic connection. But it didn’t explain his songs. He was writing them about someone.

She felt like an idiot. Like a stupid, goddamned idiot. And worse than that, she felt the same way she did all those years ago in high school and she hated mixing Harry in with any of those feelings. But he made her feel stupid. Like she had any bit of a chance with him when he was clearly interested in someone else. She’d trusted him with so much, especially the last night she’d spent with him, and now she was doubting if he even cared at all this entire time or if he just didn’t know how to tell her he was done with her.

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