#and go home Thursday morning instead

[tardis--dreams]

I hate small classes. I feel like i should let my lecturer know i won't come to class today just because we're already very few people

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

Me, yesterday, 5:30 PM: wow I’m honestly doing so great at my adult tasks; I’ve gotten some homework done, I went grocery shopping, my laundry is almost dry. I spent so many spoons and I barely feel tired! Maybe I’m finally fully recovering from burnout!

Me, yesterday, 6:00 PM: oh.

[bowithoutadaemon]

Bus journey is halfway over, just an hour more until I arrive at the festival grounds.

My luggage was no problem, the bus driver just made a joke that my carry on bag was bigger than the baby the previous person was carrying. But since I was let on the bus with all luggage I really don't give a shit about jokes/quips.

I am trying really hard to remember how to exactly to put up the tent. Which parts do I need another person for? How could I try to do them on my own? What words to use to ask a random person for help if I can't figure it out or it's simply impossible to do alone.

And where exactly do I want to set up our camp? Two of the spots to get water at are not on the map this year. So my usual spots are both fairly far away from drinking water. I could walk around with all my luggage to go visibly check if the tap is there or not. But my luggage is heavy and it's really warm. I could just put it down somewhere and walk around without it. But for some strange logic that feels bad unless it's inside a tent.

[fingertipsmp3]

There are two wolves inside me. One is trying to convince me to do extensive research for the job interview tomorrow and the other is saying “wing it”

[mapis-putellas]

Flu shots

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x reader

Words: 2100

Warnings: needles

Summary: Alexia Putellas; two time Ballon D’Or winner and le reina of football was not scared of anything. Not the dark. Bugs. Clowns. Heights. Not even spiders. Or well, that’s what you thought. It was only when the barça squad have to get their flu shots do you realise there is something she’s scared of after all.

Notes: I might have to start writing every other day because this took like four hours bro.

[prompts]

Alexia Putellas; two time Ballon D'Or winner and le reina of football was not scared of anything. Not the dark. Bugs. Clowns. Heights. Not even spiders. Or well, that's what you thought considering she'd told you no different. It was only on a random Thursday during the month of October when the team were told they all had to get their flu shots the next day do you realise that maybe that wasn't the case after all.

Though her face remains as stoic as ever upon being told, you see the way her jaw tenses; the way her hands tighten around the edge of her seat. Your immediate response was to reach for her. To pull her into a hug or take her hand, but neither you or Alexia were fond of any sort of PDA outside your home so you were forced to simply watch her try and pretend nothing was wrong.

When you had gotten into the car, a part of you had admittedly wanted to question her. To ask if it was needles that she was afraid of or something else entirely. Not in a way that would make her uncomfortable, but to simply understand just what was going on through her head so you could do your best to reassure her.

You choose to remain silent however, because Alexia was notorious for denying any and all negative feelings she had and the last thing you wanted was for her to lie to you.

Instead, you simply reach over the console and take her hand in your own, feeling the way she squeezes tightly before settling on trailing the pad of her thumb over the back of your hand. The drive home was silent, and not much was spoken from beyond that point either. You did, however, make sure you were the big spoon that night, holding her as tightly as you could.

Alexia was definitely much stronger than you, but there was only a few inches between your heights allowing you to hold her throughout the entirety of the night without getting uncomfortable. Surprisingly, she was still in your arms when you wake up the next morning, although now she was facing you and curled up against your chest.

Her face was half buried against your chest, her leg thrown over your hip as her hands cling to the material of your shirt. Her breathing was soft, her quiet exhales seeping through the material of your shirt and hitting your bare skin. 

Waking up before her was not a common occurrence despite very much wanting it to be, so you make an effort to be as gentle as you can as you reach your free hand out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Alexia does no more than scrunch up her nose, and you can't help but quirk your lips up into a tender smile as you place a delicate kiss to her forehead.

This, unfortunately, does cause her to start waking up, and you wince a little in regret as you watch her eyes slowly flicker open. She lets out a quiet groan at the brightness of the room, tightening her arms around your waist and completely burying her face into your chest.

You feel the way her hands creep up the back of your shirt, resting against the bare skin at the small of your back for a small second before she dips her fingertips just beneath the waistband of your pyjama shorts.

An instinctive shiver flows through you at the action as you reach your own hand up to cup the back of her head. "Good morning, baby." You greet, determined to be extra gentle with her today.

At the sound of your voice, Alexia tilts her head back, heavy lids blinking tiredly as she puckers her lips. You kiss them gently. Not once, or twice, but three times before Alexia hums in content and nuzzles her face back into your chest. You tighten your grasp around her, grazing gentle circles across the length of her back as she dozes in and out of sleep.

Eventually, however, it soon becomes time to get up and face the day. Despite the fact you usually shower together to save both time and water, Alexia requests to shower by herself today which of course you encourage her to do without question.

Whilst it wasn't rare for Alexia to shower by herself, it wasn't exactly a common occurrence either. The shower was her thinking space. The place she could let her defences down without fearing anyone would see or judge. Allowing you in there with her was exposing in both senses of the word, because not only do you see her, but you also see her. She often reverts back into old habits when she’s stressed or anxious, and getting a flu shot when you’re terrified of needles would definitely make her feel both of those emotions.

To save time, you head through to the guest bathroom to have quick body shower, forgoing washing your hair until tonight when you and Alexia would inevitably shower together. When you make it back to your shared bedroom dressed a simple jeans and T-shirt, you see Alexia sat on the edge of your bed with her head in her hands. She too was dressed, clad in a pair of black shorts along with a grey zip up hoodie.

Immediately, you were concerned, feeling that familiar tug in your chest that always seems to appear whenever you see Alexia upset. You make your way over to her, gently nudging her elbows off of her knees before easing yourself onto her lap. She avoids eye contact by immediately hiding her face in your neck, her arms looping tightly around your waist as your own settle around her shoulders.

"I think I know why you're upset," you murmur after a few moments of silence, cupping the back of her head and grazing the pad of your thumb against her scalp. Alexia immediately goes ridged beneath you, but due to your position on top of her, she was forced to remain still and not bolt. "It's okay, ale. I promise. I'll be with you the entire time."

Alexia says nothing, and you highly suspect your words had gone through one ear and out the other.

"I'll hold you through it, if that would make you feel better?" You offer a few moments later.

Alexia peeks up at you, cheeks shiny with the residue of her tears. "Qué?"

You cup her face and gently wipe them away before pressing your lips against her forehead. "On my lap, like this. No one would ever know. It'll just be between us." You offer.

Alexia looks visibly embarrassed at even the suggestion of allowing someone she doesn't know to see her in such a vulnerable state, but at this point, you don't really see any other choice. If you left to her own devices, you were pretty sure she wouldn't even leave the house.

"Amor..." she trails off unsurely, and you're quick to try and sooth her by gently resting your forehead against her own. Your hands rise to once again cup her cheeks, delicately trailing your thumbs over the warm skin.

"I know," you murmur in understanding. "It's just a suggestion, ale. I promise you the nurse is not going to care. They're there to do a job, not to ask questions." 

Alexia sniffles as another tear streams down her cheek, "I just wish...no estaba tan asustada." She whispers, and you're immediately forced to swallow the tightness in your own throat as you cup the back of her head and coax her back to your chest.

"I know, baby. I know. But it's okay to be scared. Even of something that feels as silly as this. You know I won't ever judge you. Neither will anyone else."

Deep down, Alexia knows you're right, but she just can't fathom the thought of a needle being in the same room as her let alone one being injected into her body. She finds herself shuddering at thought, skin rising with goosebumps that were thankfully hidden beneath the material of her hoodie.

"I know it doesn't seem like it now, but I promise you'll be okay my love. I've got you."

"Always?"

Always."

*

"Baby, you're gonna wear a hole in the floor." You warn lightly as you watch Alexia pace back and forth, your elbows on your knees and your chin resting in the palm of your hand.

You'd been at the doctors office for not even ten minutes, seated in a private room for which you were thankful. Despite encouraging her to sit multiple times, Alexia had done everything but. In fact, you were pretty sure she was becoming dangerously close to running.

To prevent her from doing so, on her next lap of the room, you reach out and grasp a handful of her shirt before tugging backwards onto your lap. She yelps in surprise as she lands, your arms looping tightly around her waist and holding her back flush to your front. Her feet hang a few inches from the floor, and you allow her to gently kick the heels of her feet against your shins to get all that anxious energy out.

"Relax, darling. Let's take some breaths, yeah?" You murmur into her ear.

Alexia clutches the hands on her stomach as she complies, taking a big breath in through her mouth and exhaling out of her nose.

"Again." You encourage, and Alexia complies, her eyes darting nervously around the room.

"Once more," she does, her head coming to rest against your shoulder. You press your lips against her cheek as you tighten your grasp around her. "Good girl. Now relax, okay? I've got you." You whisper, and Alexia takes one last deep breath before she stills in your arms.

Well, that was until the door opens. At the sound of it, Alexia immediately tries darting out of your arms. Due to your tight grip, she was not successful and the panicked whimper that escapes her lips does not go amiss.

"Hey, hey, ale, it's okay." you attempt to sooth as the nurse greets the both of you, pushing a metal trolley that held two flu shots. You wince at the sight, but Alexia only becomes more panicked.

"No, no por favor. No quiero." Her voice cracks, hands desperately prying at your own still clasped against her stomach.

"I know, I know. It's okay." Thankful over the fact you'd gotten her to take her hoodie off whilst you were in the car, you make eye contact with the nurse before silently gesturing to one of Alexia's arms. You receive a subtle nod in response, allowing you to bring your attention back to your upset girlfriend.

As her desperation grows, you're forced to pin her arms to her chest before wrapping your own around them. She wasn’t fighting you much now, but she was clearly still very upset.

"Alexia? Alexia, hey, look at me. Look at me." You bounce her on your lap slightly to get her attention, the blonde letting out a soft sob as she throws her head back against your shoulder.

"There we go, good girl. Take a deep breath for me, my love. As deep as you can."

Alexia shakes her head, eyes stubbornly screwed shut.

"Deep breaths, baby," you kiss her wet cheek. "Remember? I've got you. I've got you." You nod to give the nurse the go ahead, her gloved hand reaching over to clean the area on Alexia's arm with an alcohol wipe.

Alexia violently startles, but before she could yank herself away, the nurse squeezes her arm and quickly  gives her the shot. It happens in less than two seconds, not giving Alexia chance to work herself up further.

"All done, baby. It's over." You release her arms, shifting her on your lap slightly so she was sat sideways before pulling her into a tight hug. She lets out a deep, body shuddering sigh of relief as she hooks her arms around your shoulders and burrows her face into your neck, the tears of relief now falling down her face hitting your skin.

The feeling of the cold wipe against your bicep suddenly reminds you that you're here for a shot too, and you make an effort of relaxing your arm slightly so it wouldn't be as painful.

"I'm so proud of you." You whisper into her ear, and Alexia presses a gentle kiss to your neck in response.

**

Tags:

@simp4panos @goldenempyrean @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @marysfics @liloandstitchstan

[transmascsteveharrington]

Eddie takes the same train every day. It's in the far too early hours of the morning, dawn barely painting the city in a glowing coat of rust. The people on the platform next to him cling to the coffee in their travel mugs the same way sleep still clings to their lashes. They're tired, but not the bone-shattering tired I just finished a 10-hour bar shift that pushes down on Eddie's aching shoulder blades. The people on the platform are going to work, Eddie is going home.

His feet hurt, his hands reek of vodka and redbull, his ears ring from the loud music that played all night long and his voice is hoarse from shouting over it to be heard. But he doesn't care as he gets onto the train and sinks into a semi-comfy seat. Because while his job is alright bordering on fun most nights, it's the best job in the world when Thursday slowly trickles into Friday. Because on Thursday nights in the Hideout Eddie does not just serve drinks and flirts until the tip jar is bursting, no on Thursdays he gets to perform up on stage. It's an agreement with the owner, who has a soft spot for Eddie and his band and they have recently started to draw a crowd which helps too. So today Eddie doesn't mind the sleepless night.

He suppresses a yawn and rubs his eyes, smudging the traces of eyeliner left on his face even worse. It's when he lowers his hands, stars dancing in the corner of his eyes from the pressure, and leans his head against the cool window of the train that Eddie sees him. The prettiest man he's ever laid eyes on. Seriously how can someone be this attractive? Light brown hair that manages to be untamed and yet perfectly styled, tanned skin covered in so many freckles Eddie can feel himself salivate. And then there are his eyes. Liquid gold, glowing amber, honey in the sun and whiskey by candlelight.

It's not the first time Eddie has fallen deeply in love with a stranger on the subway and he doubts it's going to be the last time. But it's the most he has ever been enraptured. The outfit the guy wears is nothing exciting to write home about. Grey coat covering a blue suit typical corporate style. Nothing exciting, not even a fun tie. Eddie couldn't care less about the clothes though (unless they were on his bedroom floor).

He just watches the guys magnetizing eyes go back and forth over the page of the book he is reading. It's like watching a pendulum and Eddie finds himself hypnotized, enraptured, gone without any chance of return. Curious as he is though he forces himself to look away from the beautiful hazel eyes and tries instead to make out what the guy is reading.

He has to slap a hand on his mouth to keep himself from making a noise when he sees that the guy is reading A Court of Thornes and Roses. Now that is unexpected. Eddie never read it himself but he didn't think Mr. probably works for a big boy loads of money epicenter of capitalism company would read romance books let alone fairy porn romance books on the train to work. It's unexpected and Eddie instantly falls a little deeper. But unfortunately, as with all subway romances, it reaches its end as the train reaches the next station. Pretty boy sighs, dog ears his page (naughty) and gets up.

In the twenty seconds it takes for the train doors to open and the guy to step out Eddie fast forwards through the life they could have led. Imagines all the shared giggles and kisses and moments in time, sees all the stupid arguments they are going to have and the make up sex they'll have afterwards. Their first date will be in a little cafe just down the road from the Hideout, their wedding anniversary at a family-owned Italian place that reminds pretty boy of his grandma's cooking. The train door closes and Eddie's indulgent little fantasy ends. No point in thinking about all the what ifs, he's never going to see the guy again.

Except that he does. Next day, same time, same train, same exhaustion humming in Eddie's bones, same guy, different suit same book. Eddie stares. Can't help himself and maybe this is the universe giving him a second chance, telling him to make a move. But the only thing that moves is the guy when he reaches his stop, dog ears his book again, gets up and leaves. And well fall in love on the subway once, fall in love on the subway twice, Eddie thinks that this must be it.

But apparently, the universe is having a laugh because the impossible keeps happening, book guy keeps being on Eddie's train, and keeps on sitting right across from Eddie. The day he finishes acotar is the day they make eye contact for the first time. With a sigh he closes the book, looks up and catches Eddie staring. Eddie knows he should look away but he just can't, pinned under the guy's gaze he just keeps staring. And the guy stares right back, looks Eddie up and down and gives him a flirty little smirk and heart palpitations before he gets up.

The next day his hazel eyes widen in surprise when he sees Eddie sitting down across from him again like he too can't believe seeing the same guy on the subway twice. Eddie gives him an awkward smile, which gets returned just as awkwardly before the guy averts his gaze and continues to read Twilight. Okay, so pretty boy likes cheesy monster romance books. At least it's not 50 shades, Eddie thinks. Because he knows he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from saying something and coming off like a total creep, telling a stranger on the subway that the portrayal of bdsm in that book is unrealistic and harmful and should never be acted out like that. Instead, Eddie just blissfully gets to wonder whether the guy is team Edward or team Jacob.

After that pretty boy keeps noticing Eddie. They exchange little smiles that become nods that become whispered hi-s and see you-s. Summer comes by the time pretty boy finishes twilight and his coat and suit turn into polos and khakis and it makes Eddie want to bang his head against the train's window because no one should be able to look that good in such stuffy clothes. After vampires, it's time for some Regency romance and several weeks for frowning eyes as pretty boy tries to make it through pride and prejudice. On one particularly hot summer morning he just slams the book shut with a groan of frustration.

"Not good?" Eddie can't help but ask. Pretty boy looks at him and the annoyance in his face softens. It's probably the hot weather that drives a blush into his cheeks.

"Kinda?" he shrugs. "I loved the movie like that almost kiss in the rain? The hand stretch? I loved it."

It's endearing how passionately pretty boy talks about the movie. And god his voice is perfect too. If Eddie had not already been lured by his pretty eyes it would have been the siren call of his voice.

"But the book? It's like super complicated man. Who are half these people? Why do they talk like that. And I know it's like high-class literature or something, but it just makes me feel l...I don't know stupid."

"It's not stupid, Austen isn't for everyone," Eddie reassures him and that gets a little smile out of the guy.

"Thanks," he says, suddenly shy.

Eddie wants to bite him. Wants to take him out, wants to know what his kisses taste like and what the first song that made him cry was. Wants to learn his favorite kind of soup and if blue is his favorite color. It's silly, it's just a stranger on the subway he keeps meeting.

"I'm Steve by the way," pretty guy says and just like that mysterious, sexy stranger becomes Steve. It only makes Eddie want Steve more.

"Eddie," he says just as the train pulls into Steve's station. With an apologetic smile, Steve gets up.

"See you tomorrow, Eddie?" he asks, hopeful and all Eddie can do is nod, mouth gone dry.

"See you tomorrow," he promises.

Instead of going straight to sleep like usual when he gets home, Eddie takes out his songwriting book, sharpens a pencil and then writes like a possessed man. It's just a silly song, something whipped up and recorded within half an hour. Just a little love song starting with "he took the morning train going somewhere." It's not something he would play with the band, nothing he would put on an album. He puts it on tiktok instead before he finally falls asleep.

By the time he wakes up his phone is running hot with notification. Confused and bleary-eyed Eddie opens the tiktok app and promptly almost drops his phone. During the few hours he's slept his silly little joke song has gone absolutely viral.

Oh fuck.

Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. Of all the songs that could have gone viral it of course just had to be song he recorded as a joke about falling in love with a corporate guy reading fair porn on the subway. Fuck, Steve. It's so so so obvious that the song is about him. Eddie has no idea how he is meant to take the train tomorrow and look Steve into his gorgeous eyes. He dreads all night. When he gets to the Hideout the guys from the band tease him about the song, but insist they have to put it on the demo. It's not their usual vibe but according to Gareth it slaps and Jeff calls it a bop. Eddie just feels sick. Steve is going to hate him.

Only that when Eddie gets onto the train with shaky knees, Steve smiles at him like any other day. Pride and Prejudice has been replaced with a copy of One Last Stop which definitely seems more like Steve's kind of book. But Eddie is too nervous to really think about it. He expects Steve to lash out at any moment, call him a weirdo, wave a restraining order in his face. But none of that happens. Steve just reads, and when he gets up to leave tells Eddie "see you tomorrow."

Eddie's song becomes more and more viral but the subway rides home stay the same. Steve will say hi, smile at him, read, then get up and say bye. Nothing more nothing less. Maybe he just doesn't have social media Eddie prays. Even though his book choices seem very curated by the clock app. But Eddie is thankful for every day, Steve doesn't bring up the subway boy song. He is almost done with one last stop the day Eddie and the boys get the call from Kings Records about a deal. It's one of Chicago's biggest labels and it would mean the big break for them. Only that they insist on Subway Guy being on the record.

Eddie doesn't like it, doesn't like it one bit. But the guys beg him to reconsider it. The song went viral for a reason and Eddie knows he will never forgive himself he keeps them all from making their dreams come true just because some guy on the subway might think he is a creep. Only that Steve is not just some guy. He is the highlight of Eddie's day, the sugar in his coffee, the reason mornings aren't as awful anymore. He is also noticeably absent on Eddie's ride to the record label.

It's the same train, the same time as always, but the seat across from Eddie is vacant. No corporate hottie with a cheesy romance book to be seen. Maybe the universe is teaching Eddie a lesson, telling him that he really screwed it up this time. Make it big but lose the guy it's karma.

Eddie tries his best to put on a smile and not let his foul mood show when he enters the record label, the guys from the band are already there. He can't blow this for them just because his heart aches a little. Okay, maybe it aches a lot but this is Eddie's dream. It's all their dream. So he keeps on smiling, shakes the big official music producer guy's hand and gets led to studio. They spend the day recording subway guy and while Eddie still feels a tad bad, he can't help but enjoy the process. The song is good, objectively, actually good and it's nice to be told that.

They finish for the day, but before they can leave there are some legal things to sort through, so the producer guy sends them to legal. It's at the top of the building, glass walls, stunning view. A secretary leads them to a conference room with a smile and tells them their laywer Mr. Harrington will be with them shortly to sign contracts, sort through copyright etc. etc.

Eddie is tunes her out, too distracted by the city below him. The train tracks look like thin lines from up here and Eddie can't help but think back to Steve. The excitement of the day turns into guilt, making his stomach ache. Just as Eddie is about to run, to call it all off the door to the conference room opens and Eddie's jaw drops.

"Hi everyone," Steve greets the band. "I'm Steve Harrington, resident lawyer for King Records. Sorry for letting you wait, but I was super curious and wanted to listen to your song first."

Warm hazel eyes find Eddie's wide-blown ones. There is no way this is real, this has to be a prank. But Steve just pulls out a bunch of paperwork and notions for them all to sit down. Eddie barely listens when Steve goes over the legal aspects, Nancy is going to read over the contract when Eddie gets home anyways. Eddie is too busy staring at Steve.

"Wonderful, this is all," Steve says once they have gone through all the paperwork. "King Records is looking forward to working with you."

Steve smiles as he leads them back to the elevators.

"Gotta say, while it's not my usual sound, I really enjoyed your song. I relate maybe a little bit too much to falling in love with a stranger on the subway," he says as they wait for the elevator. "The guy you wrote the song about must be a pretty special guy."

"He is," Eddie finally, finally regains his ability to speak. "I don't just write love songs about any kind of stranger."

The elevator dings open but Eddie doesn't want to move. He wants to stay, a million questions on his mind, starting with you're really not mad and ending with so I was thinking spring wedding, maybe May. Thoughts? But corroded coffin drag him into the elevator say their thanks and then before he can do anything yet another door slides shut between him and Steve. The guys don't notice that something is off, too euphoric about their first record deal. But it's fine, their joy is infectious and Eddie doesn't pout about being dragged away from Steve. Eddie knows he is going to see Steve again.

It's too early in the morning when Eddie steps onto the train home from his last shift at work. There is a beautiful guy on the train, dressed in a pristine suit, romance novel in his hands. He doesn't wait for Eddie to pass by, just grabs Eddie's hand and pulls him down into the seat right next to him.

"Hi," Steve grins, far too awake this early.

"Hi," Eddie whispers back, giddy despite all his exhaustion. They are both quiet for a moment before Eddie blurts, nervous, "Read anything good lately?"

It startles a laugh from Steve and it's such a nice sound Eddie instantly wants to make Steve laugh again.

"I have actually," Steve smiles. "I would tell you all about it, but I'm afraid my stop is next."

He takes what looks like a bookmark out from between the pages of his current book. Which is weird because Steve never uses bookmarks. It becomes less weird when he hands the bookmark to Eddie, a phone number written in dark ink on it.

"How about you give me a call and I can tell you all about it over a coffee," Steve suggests and get up. "And you can tell me all about that song of yours."

Eddie blinks surprised once, twice, as Steve leaves the train. Then Eddie instantly digs out his phone. He should go home, sleep. But screw sleep, who needs to rest when you have a coffee date with a hot stranger you fell in love on the subway with to arrange.

[strangersteddierthings]

Good People - Final Part

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

It is not often that Wayne is happy with the monotony of work. Tonight is one of those nights, if only because it allows him to think about where he went wrong speaking to Eddie. He had never meant to imply he thought Eddie was like Al; he'd meant the apple and tree comment to for Richard and Steve. However, he does acknowledge why Eddie drew the conclusion that Wayne might have thought Eddie would follow in Al's footsteps.

Wayne's being a hypocrite, applying the logic to one boy, but not the other. And even though he never, not once, thought that Eddie would become Al, he'll never be able to take that thought from Eddie's mind that he had. He can apologize until he's blue in the face, Eddie might even forgive him, but he's not sure Eddie will ever believe him. Not truly.

And how could Wayne expect him to?

No. That's a shame Wayne will take to the grave.

Next strike to Wayne's conscious; the misjudgment of Steve Harrington, and how it ties into the fact Eddie accused him of not trusting his judgement, and, moreover, Eddie being right. Wayne hadn't trusted in Eddie's trust of Steve.

He should have. It's been years since Eddie came home crying about a boy, but what father doesn't see their kid crying over their first heartbreak and doesn't grow protective? And with Eddie, it's even more terrifying. Getting mixed up with the wrong boy could mean bruised ribs, black eyes, or worse.

In a town like Hawkins, a boy would just have to claim Eddie made a sexual advance and his murder could (would) be justified.

Now add the manhunt and being suspected of murderer to that. Well, Wayne's scared for Eddie's life almost every minute of his day.

But it's no excuse. Or if it is, it's a poor one.

Wayne doesn't know the full story but he does know that Steve was with the group of people on Eddie's side; that he was there with the Henderson kid, the Buckley girl, and Nancy Wheeler, digging Eddie out of the rubble from the earthquake, getting him to the hospital as fast as they could.

Steve Harrington was part of the group that saved Eddie's life, and that should have meant more to begin with. Instead, Wayne's been waiting for a shoe to drop that very well isn't coming.

He's going to fix this.

He'll give Eddie his space to be angry with him, and he'll try again in a few days.

When Wayne gets home, around 6:30am, Eddie's van is gone. He's not surprised. He probably left shortly after Wayne did, not leaving sooner just to avoid him.

There is a note on Wayne's bed when he makes it there. Says he's at Steve, and instead of letting Wayne know when he'll return it just says the words 'be back' followed by a bunch of questions marks. He ends it with 'call if worried' and leaves a phone number that must be for the Harrington residence.

Another hurt Wayne can't blame on anyone but himself.

Wednesday passes. Wayne eats breakfast, goes grocery shopping, pretends to care about his shows before sleeping the afternoon away to prepare for another graveyard. Eddie has not returned when he wakes, and two short hours later, he's off to work.

Eddie's van remains gone.

Returns from work Thursday morning and repeats Wednesday. He replaces grocery shopping with laundry and cleaning out the leftovers for trash day tomorrow morning. Goes to work.

Friday morning he returns home. No Eddie. He waits for it to be a more appropriate time, a little before 10:00am to call the number Eddie left.

It rings, rings, rings, then, a voice he hasn't heard in years. Richard Harrington's voice sounds as cold as it always was as the answering machine recites, "You've reached the Harrington's. We are not available. Leave a message."

"This is Wayne Munson. I just wanted to make sure Eddie's- that's he's alright. Let him know that I called. Checked on him. He doesn't need to call back but I'd appreciate it."

He hangs up the phone, lump in his throat. He misses his boy, and he wants to make his right, but he can't force that. Eddie has to always want to make it okay between them.

He's usually off Fridays, but he asked to pick up a shift. He can't face Linda without having fixed this. He spends the morning and afternoon doing all the small fixes he'd been putting off. Anything to keep him busy. He goes to sleep at his usual time, and wakes up two hours before his shift like normal.

Check's his answering machine but if anyone called while he was asleep, they didn't leave a message. There's still no van when he heads to work.

The plant tells him to leave an hour early. He tries to argue to stay but he's just waved off, told to go get some sleep because he's been looking a little worse for the wear.

He gets back to Forest Hills around 5:40am and finds there is another car parked at his home. Not Eddie's van, but the sleek maroon BMW that belongs to Steve Harrington parked where the van usually is.

When he pulls into his spot, the headlights of his truck light up Steve, sitting on his steps, wrapped in a coat. It can't be more than 50℉ outside right now.

Steve stands as Wayne cuts the engine and climbs from his truck. He gets to the front of his truck and Steve speaks.

"Eddie's okay," Steve says, hands shoving deep into his pockets, "I tried to get him to call you back yesterday but, well, you know Eddie."

Wayne nods, because he does know Eddie. "I appreciate you tellin' me. But you coulda just called."

"I could have."

They look at each other for a moment, and just as Steve opens his mouth, probably to tell Wayne he's going to go, Wayne speaks first, "you wanna come inside and have a cup of coffee to warm up?"

Steve tilts his head slightly to the left before he says, "are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Alright," and then Steve steps away from the stairs so Wayne can climb them and let them into the trailer. Steve follows behind silently but with familiarity. He's spent so much of his time here since spring break- the shame crawls through Wayne again. He'd assumed, once upon a time, that Eddie and Steve spent more time here than at Steve's because why would Steve want the trailer park boy in his big fancy house? Now, though, he wonders if it's because this place felt more like a home, even with Wayne's cold shoulder.

Steve sits at their little kitchen table, a luxury they didn't have before because there was no room in the single wide, one bedroom they'd had before. The new double wide (with three bedrooms) offered them a bit more space for a dining area.

Wayne's still suspicious of the government's offer to replace their destroyed home, but he wasn't foolish enough to deny the offer when it was made to him by Jim Hopper (newly returned from the dead back then).

"How do you take your coffee?" Wayne asks, once the machine finishes filling the carafe.

"Oh, I can fix it-"

"Nonsense," Wayne waves him back to sitting, "just tell me."

"I like it with just enough milk to take the scalding heat out of it," Steve says, and while Wayne's not sure just how much that it, he tries anyway.

He sets a cup in front of Steve before taking a seat across from him. "I really do appreciate that you came to tell me Eddie's okay. I want to give him his space but...."

Steve sips his coffee before shooting his cup a small smile. Wayne must have got the ratio right. Then, he looks to Wayne and the smile drops, a more serious expression taking its place and he says, "Eddie wouldn't really tell me what your fight was about, other than, uh, me and that you... overheard some of what I said last time I was here. I don't, like, want to come between you and Eddie, but I'm not, I'm not going to let you scare me away. So, just tell me what I have to do to get Eddie to believe we're cool, and I'll do it. Anything, except for getting out of Eddie's life. 'Cause I won't."

"I would never ask you to do that," Wayne says. Steve squints at him, a look of suspicion now. Completely warranted, given what Steve has known of Wayne thus far. "I owe you an apology, Steve. For how I've been treatin' you."

Steve's eyes go wide, "Oh. What? Why?"

"You've been nothin' but good to Eddie. For Eddie. And I refused to see that. I made a judgment about you without knowin' anything but your name." Steve let's out a soft 'oh' at that, but Wayne plows on, "And that weren't fair, and it weren't right. I can't undo it, but I want you to know I regret it. I'm sorry."

"Okay," Steve says, after a moment. "I forgive you."

It's Wayne's turn to be surprised. He's a bit speechless. So much so, he takes a page right out of Eddie's book and asks, "are you sure?" which is a question he's never asked after having an apology accepted before, but one Eddie had asked a lot when he first came to live with Wayne, and they were learning to co-exist.

"Yeah. I get it."

He doesn't like that answer. Doesn't like the he contributed to the mind set that gave Steve that answer. "You're allowed to be mad at me for it."

"I think Eddie's mad enough for both of us."

It doesn't feel like closure. It doesn't feel like forgiveness, but Wayne doesn't know what to say. He can't just start sprouting all the bad things he thought about Steve; there's no reason Steve should have to listen to that. But without hearing it, Steve doesn't even know what he's forgiving Wayne for. "I'll be honest with ya, Steve. It feels like you shouldn't."

Steve frowns at him. "Why?"

Why? Why? For all the reasons Eddie yelled at him, and all the things Linda said, and all the agony he's felt these last few days. The guilt and the shame that still eat at him, even as Steve Harrington says he forgives him. "It's too easy."

Those three words have Steve leaning back against the chair. His eyes dance around Wayne's face before taking in the whole of him. Or, what Steve can see of him with from across the table. When Steve meets his eye again, Wayne sees recognition there. "If you can't forgive yourself, I get that. I do. I-I've spent most of my life as one big apology. And I'm not saying that I, like, don't still feel like- what I mean to say, is that, I forgive you. I'm not, like, gonna hold it against you that you were just trying to look out for Eddie, man. Like, two years ago your fears would have been justified, so."

"Don't make it right," Wayne argues, but he doesn't know why.

"No," Steve agrees, "but I'm forgiving you anyway. You think you're the first person to hear the name Steve Harrington and assume you know everything you need to know about me already?"

Steve's words sound like they could be confrontational, but his tone is light. Teasing? Wayne says, "no. Suppose I'm not."

"Every person I love has done that," Steve says, and the ease of which he says that has Wayne feeling some sort of way. Eddie's words echo in his mind 'you made me help him feel that way'. How many other people have made him feel like he's a bad person? "Even- even Eddie. He made a point, during spring break, to, uh, well, he didn't apologize for anything because there was nothing to apologize about, but he made a point to tell me I was very 'metal' and a 'cool dude' so.... I know my name comes with, like, a shadow or a curse or whatever. I think it will for as long as I live in Hawkins, but that's," Steve flaps his hand in the air, as if that fills in for the word he can't find, and it's a move so reminiscent of Eddie. "Anyway, if you aren't actually, like, ready to accept an apology, you shouldn't be making one."

Wayne sits in that for a moment. There's a lot more to Steve Harrington than he'd ever thought. So much he doesn't know, actually, but he thinks he's okay with learning more. This boy told Eddie he was half-way in love with him earlier this week, and while Wayne never heard Eddie say it back, he knew anyway. It's why he was so protective. "You're pretty wise for your age."

Steve grins and shakes his head. "Nah, that last part was all Robin. She says it all the time to me."

"Well, then you best stop apologizing when you ain't ready to accept the forgiveness," Wayne parrots back the words.

Steve throws his head back and laughs.

They finish their coffee with silence and small talk. Steve tells him about how he never thought he'd miss his job at the video store but working at Melvald's is making him long for the days when the biggest complaint was late fees. Apparently, there's so many more things to complain about in retail.

Wayne talks about working at the plant and how the tasks are repetitive and a bit labor intensive, but the graveyard pay is worth it. Steve asks him a few more questions about working at the plant that Wayne's happy to answer and the more Steve asks, the more Wayne becomes aware that Steve might be looking for a change of occupation. He makes a mental note to put in a good word to Floyd, just in case.

Steve leaves with the promise of returning with Eddie, as soon as possible. As he was heading to the door, Wayne asked why he showed up so early.

"Eddie can't stop me if he's not awake," was Steve's answer, a mischievous grin on his face.

Wayne watches from the porch as Steve backs out. Steve shoots him one last little wave with his fingers before heading away.

He goes back inside and washes the dishes. Even dries and puts them away, a feat usually done once a week; he and Eddie have no qualms with using dishes directly from the dish drainer. His only other chore for the day is leaving for work a bit early so he has time to stop at the gas station and fill up the truck.

Grabbing the remote from its spot on the coffee table, Wayne plops onto the couch to spend his day as mindlessly as possible with some TV.

He goes to sleep at his usual time and wakes up at 7:43pm according to his alarm clock; a little over two hours before his shift is to start. It's time for more coffee, he thinks as he dresses for work before heading to the kitchen.

He jerks to a stop when he sees Eddie and Steve sitting on the couch, leaned close and talking softly. He's not about to repeat a past mistake, so he makes his presence known. "Evenin' boys."

Eddie pops up from the couch quick as lightning, taking a few steps towards Wayne before stopping. "I don't like being mad at you."

Wayne nods, "I don't much like you bein' mad at me, either. For what it's worth, I am sorry."

Eddie closes the distance between them, then, and pulls Wayne into a tight hug. Wayne returns it instantly, how can he not? He hears Eddie say, softly, "it's worth an awful lot, you terrible old man."

They part, and Eddie speaks first, "but if you ever pull shit like this again, I won't be so quick to forgive."

"I won't," Wayne says, at the same time Steve says, "he won't."

Both Munsons look at Steve, who grins back at them.

"You think you know my uncle that well already, from one shared cup of coffee?" Eddie asks, sounding amused.

Steve shrugs, "no. I just, uh, plan to stick around, y'know. Kinda hoping there's no dude after me for him to be an angry dad about. I would appreciate it, though, Mr. Munson, if you'd skip the shovel talk bit of all this?"

Eddie sucks in a breath and Wayne's a bit shocked by what Steve's implied. What Steve's admitted, really, out loud in front of another person. Wayne wonders if any boy Eddie's ever liked before would have done that.

"What good's a shove talk when you've already told me you ain't goin' anywhere?" Wayne says, hoping his tone is as light and teasing as he wants it to be.

"Glad we're on the same page," Steve agrees, "but, uhh, do you want me to go? So you can have a real talk?"

"No," says Eddie.

"No," says Wayne, at the same time.

"Oh. Okay. Uh, in that case, you got anything to drink here besides coffee?"

Wayne nods and they all pile into the kitchen to get a beverage before settling in the living room. There will be time to talk later, Wayne realizes. He's going to apologize properly.

Later, though, when he'll really be ready to accept Eddie's forgiveness, because there's no doubt Eddie'll forgive him. So, he's going to sit in the living room and chat with his boys until he has to go to work.

By the time Friday comes around again, he'll be able to tell Linda she was right, everything's going to be okay one day, and maybe ask her on a date he's been putting off asking for since high school.

Done!! I hope the ending is sufficiently cheesy.

I'm so sorry if I missed you! There were a lot of people asking to be tagged haha

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @kaij-basil-lionelli88 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @mugloversonly @limpingpenguin @krazyperson @acrolius @salisbury-at-the-stake @littlebookworm86 @savedbytheirmusic @wxrmland @myownworstenemyyy @thelittleclare @awkotaco24 @djohawke @wrenisflying @croatoan-like-its-hot @actualwakingnightmare @krowepoison @jamieweasley13 @yourmom-isgay @irregular-child @oldwitcheshat @abstractnaturaldisaster @wishiwasacasualfan @vinteraltus @zerokrox-blog @warlordess @stevesbipanic @steveshairspray @slowandsteddie @samsoble @waelkyring @just-a-tiny-void @saramelaniemoon @halfadoginatank @nightmareglitter @scarletyeager @hellfireone @rovia2312 @munsonslure @a-little-unsteddie @soaringornithopter @eddiethehunted @starlight-archer @dryptid @inkjette

[cumikering]

Neighbour Ghost x reader 2

2.1k | fluff You had many dinners with Simon (part 1) (part 3)

Simon Riley white-knuckled the vegetable peeler against the poor carrot in his other hand like it owed him money.

He’d knocked on your door that morning with the full intention of being helpful, but it was painfully difficult to hide the fact that he was beyond clueless as he stood there at the counter. He even dressed for the occasion, wearing a loose black shirt to not dirty his sleeves. It was his first time seeing you in something other than a hoodie, and he caught your momentary gaze on his tattooed arm.

Sure, he kept telling himself each time he came up with an excuse to have you over was for his mum’s company. It made him happy to see the smile on her face as she chatted with you, your laughter filling his otherwise quiet flat. But was it really for her company now, when it was just the two of you as he embarrassed himself?

Regretting what he thought was a brilliant idea, he glanced at you, absolutely horrified of being a hold up and ruining lunch.

You didn’t even look up from the pot you were stirring. “You know, I really don’t like doing the dishes. Would you like to help with that instead?”

A small sigh of relief escaped him as he dropped everything on the cutting board, thankful you spared the sliver of dignity he had left. He did most of the cleaning while he watched you. You said you weren’t the best cook, but your movements were serene, easy. You didn’t look like you were going to chop your fingers off, and to him, that made you far above decent.

Evidently, Melanie complimented the meal generously while Simon simply asked for a third helping. He beat you to the dishes after that, not allowing you to lift a finger after all the cooking you did.

At your door, you turned to him. “In case I don’t see you again before you ship out-“

“You will. I leave Thursday morning.”

“Oh.”

“Can I have your number?”

You handed him your phone and Simon Riley called himself from it.

“I’ll see you around, Simon.” You smiled at him.

Again, he only left when you’d closed your door. When he entered his flat, his mum looked up from wiping down the dining table.

She sighed softly. “How long am staying, Si? It’s been over two weeks now.”

“As long as you want, mum. I’d rather you here.” He walked over to her. “At least I know you’ll be safe.”

“What’s going to happen to your dad?”

“You wouldn’t let me bash his face in, and he’s not my dad. Not sure he ever was,” he said gravely. “I can’t tell you what to do, but I just need to know you’re safe. That’s all I’m asking.”

She turned away, the discomfort evident in her eyes. Simon knew the look to well.

“You need to leave him, mum,” he said under his breath.

“I think I’m going to stay a few more weeks, two months tops,” she finally said. “Until things settle. I’ll look for a job meanwhile.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“I want to feel useful, Si,” she reassured. “You’ve been too kind to me.”

“Never enough.”

When's the latest you can have dinner before it's not called dinner anymore? Simon texted you Monday afternoon.

Is this the premise to a joke?

He tilted his head. On second thought, it did sound like one of his dad jokes.

No, was a genuine question actually.

9, maybe. Why?

I'll be home before 7:30. Would it be okay to wait for me for dinner until then?

Who's cooking?

Takeout chef down the street. You pick who the lucky bloke is

You smiled as he stood at your door with takeout in hand. The way you looked at him made him question his clean shaven look that day. Did he look too much like an adolescent with no scruff?

Simon didn’t like making conversation, let alone with someone as sunny as you, but he was surprised to find that he wanted to put himself in a social situation with you. Still, he wasn’t used to it. He tried saying more, he really did, but the most he managed to tell was that he was an apprentice butcher back in Manchester before he enlisted, and that he was a currently a lieutenant in the SAS.

After dinner, you sat facing each other on your small couch sipping on tea, knees almost touching each other’s.

At this point, he noticed you didn’t look away as much as you did the previous instances. Either you’d got used to his unyielding stare or his attempt to appear less scary succeeded. You didn’t ask further about his job, and he hoped it was because you thought it was mostly confidential, not because you were afraid of him. That was alright though, you were far more interesting than his work anyway. He enjoyed watching the way you lit up talking about your interests.

Perhaps it was patronising how he wondered why you could be so much like sunshine in this bleak world, walking around like no one was going to break your heart. He found your generosity reckless, even foolish. Guilt pricked his heart for having these unsavoury thoughts, yet he was still utterly and shamelessly fascinated by your smile.

Despite him not wanting to leave, he excused himself for the night before it was remotely late.

“The day at the base starts early, yeah?”

He gave you a small smile. “Same time tomorrow?”

You nodded.

“Good night, luv.”

On his way to the lift, he knocked on the door of his own flat. His mum answered, clutching her cardigan close to her chest.

“Oh, Simon. I wasn’t expecting you.” She stepped aside. “Are you staying the night? I’ll get the bed-”

“No, ’m just dropping by.” He closed the door behind him.

“Did you need something? Have you had dinner yet?”

“I did, yeah.”

A knowing smile tugged on her lips. “Was it with someone I know?”

“Wanted to say good night and make sure everything’s alright.” A blush might have crept up his neck as he stepped in for a one-armed hug.

But the next night, Simon dropped by again before going back to base.

“Why are you here every day now?” Melanie looked at her son with a teasing smile. “I’m not complaining, but I thought you said you were too busy to come home.”

“Can I not want to see my own mum?”

“Sure, Si.” She gave him a playful side eye. “Let me see what ingredient I’m missing, in case you want to run to the shops.”

He groaned. “I’m shipping out Thursday. Wanted to take you somewhere nice for dinner tomorrow. Get yourself an outfit. Use my card.”

“How nice!” She beamed. “Is she coming with?”

He looked away. “I didn’t invite her.”

“Would you like to?” When he gave her an unsure look, she reassured, “I don’t mind at all. She’s sweet and I’m happy you’re meeting new people.”

Of course it didn’t take any convincing for him to invite you to his favourite steakhouse in the city. In fact, he very much looked forward to having another excuse to see you, especially dressed up. Not like you didn’t look nice, but thinking of taking you out made him giddy. He suddenly didn’t dread the med evals, trainings and briefings he usually detested before each deployment.

When he arrived at base, your reply waited.

Thank you so much for the invite. The place sounds lovely, but I don’t want to intrude. Have a nice evening you both!

His shoulders sagged. Can I at least see you after dinner?

Mrs. Riley beamed when Simon picked her up with a rose in hand. He didn’t remember ever seeing her so dressed up, and he was glad to have given her the opportunity to. She gushed over the delicious dinner, the wine and how polite the waiters were that it brought a bittersweet smile to his lips.

He could tell how much the evening meant to her, and it broke his heart that no one had cared for her that much in a very long time. He held her hand as they walked back to his flat.

“You be safe, Simon. I’ll be waiting for you,” she hugged him tight at the door as her voice wavered, her eyes brimming with tears.

He gave her a squeeze, feeling the emotions rubbing off on him. “Will do, mum. I’ll be home as soon as I can,” he said into her hair.

She gave him a kiss on the cheek before he headed to your flat.

Simon didn’t recall feeling this heavy upon shipping out in recent memory, but as you answered the door in your loose shirt and shorts, his arms ached to wrap around you. Instead, he shoved his hands in his trousers pockets.

“Would you like to come in?”

“I can’t,” he said. Because if I did, I wouldn’t want to leave.

You looked away, seemingly a little embarrassed by his rejection.

“May I ask why you didn’t want to come earlier?”

You stepped out into the corridor, closing the door behind you. “I feel your mum would appreciate it more if it’s just the two of you, that’s all.”

“Maybe next time with you then?” he asked hopefully. “Just us?”

You nodded and a smile blossomed on his lips in return. You both lingered a few more seconds in silence.

“I’m wishing you and your unit the very best on your mission. Please take care out there.” You cast your gaze down.

He caught the wobble in your voice and the sincerity was the push he needed. You barely had time to react to him stepping in for a hug. His arms encircled your frame loosely, but tightened as soon as yours wrapped around his waist. He curled over you, inhaling your scent as your breath tickled his neck.

The lack of distance only highlighted how much he towered over you. He was sure you could feel his racing heart under his turtleneck, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to hold you.

“Let me know when you’re back,” you said when he pulled away.

“’course.”

Simon very much looked forward to your texts whenever he had time to himself. While he asked you about your days, he unfortunately couldn’t say much about his. Instead, he sent you photos of the sunrise, or the shit cup of tea he was having. In return, you sent photos of the Hereford sunset and your meals. He said the kind of food he ate would ruin your appetite.

You told him his mum got a job at that bakery you loved – you knew the owner. On some days if her schedule allowed, you could walk back home with her. Simon thanked you for keeping her company, knowing how much she must have appreciated it.

The two weeks seemed to roll by a litter faster than usual. You were the first to know as soon as he was scheduled to fly back. He said he’d probably get home a late, but would love to see you if you had the time.

At his first knock, rapid footsteps came from behind your door which you swung open with a grin on your face. “You’re back!”

“May I come in?”

You made way for him, and when the door closed behind you, he stepped in, arms lifted a little. With a chuckle, you closed the gap, squeezing him tight.

“Are you available for dinner tomorrow?”

You pulled away. “No, going out with friends.”

“Oh,” he muttered. “Sunday then?”

“That’ll do.” You smiled, walking backwards to the kitchen. “Come, I’ll make us a cuppa. Co-worker gave me some oolong tea.”

His eyes softened. “Sorry, can’t stay long, luv. I’m going back to base.”

“But tomorrow is Saturday. I thought you stay home on weekends.”

“Yeah, but it’s too late now. I don’t want to bother my mum.”

You gestured at the couch with a chuckle. “I’d offer you this, but it’s way too small for you.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to bother his mum - he wouldn’t. He could get in and out the place without a sound, nor was your couch a problem. He could sleep on the floor and it would still be better than some of the places he’d had the pleasure to sleep in.

He wasn’t ready yet, especially not when he just got back, with his mind still reeling 1000 miles an hour.

“That’s okay. I can head back.”

Your brow rose at him. He understood how silly it was now, driving all the way to you at this hour to not even stay 15 minutes. It was embarrassing, if he was honest, how much he was transfixed on seeing you that he didn’t even think of the logistics of the visit.

“Sorry, I’m not a late sleeper. I’m dead tired and always sleep like a log the first night back.” His eyes flicked to your lips as he swallowed. “I’ll pick you up Sunday?”

You smiled. “Where are we going?”

“The same place. I think you’re going to like it.”

@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @rowanyaboats @mangoguy @fruitymoonbeams-blog @ghostslittlegf @luvecarson @sparrowgalaxy @insert-weird-name @nocturnalreader106

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 26 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley says some things in the afterglow of winning custody of Noah that surprise you in the best way. You believe him, but you also need some time to think. But with some bad news on the horizon, when he tells you that he trusts you with Noah more than he trusts anyone else, you don't doubt him at all.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, smut, and age gap (18+)

Length: 3900 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

"Just stay in bed," Bradley rasped when his alarm woke both of you on Thursday morning. You'd spent a good portion of Wednesday night telling him that you needed to go home, get used to your own space again. And then he had spent a few minutes listing all the reasons he wanted you to stay. 

Your favorite reason was that he and Noah needed you with them. He was insistent. 

"Daddy," you groaned, reaching for him, trying to keep him in bed. He rolled his big body on top of yours, propping himself up with his elbows to keep from crushing you. "I need to finish my school assignments by next week so I can graduate."

"I'll help you get them ready to submit," he promised as he kissed your lips. "Now you just stay put, Princess. I'm taking the day off from work. I'll drop Noah at daycare, try to get him back on his normal routine since he missed yesterday. And then I'll be back to spend the day with you."

"Really?" you asked as he got out of bed on your side. You had a side of the bed. You had a specific side of the bed that was yours in Bradley's bedroom in his beautiful house. You sank back against the pillows in contentment, so cozy in Bradley's sweatshirt.

"Yes," he promised. "I'll get him up and out the door, and I'll be back soon." You watched him get dressed in some jeans and a soft tee shirt. He shoved his phone and wallet into his pockets before kissing you on the forehead and saying, "I love you," like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

And then he was gone, and you were thinking about what Meredith might be doing right now. You hoped she was crying over the fact that you had outsmarted her, since she had been trying to manipulate you as much as she had Bradley. You rolled onto your side with a smile. Bradley already seemed so much more relaxed now that he and Noah were free and clear of Meredith. He'd briefly mentioned getting restraining orders, citing the desire to never hear that you saw Meredith in public again as his main reason for looking into it. He said he'd talk to Tracy about everything. 

You were just about to doze off again when Bradley walked back in with Noah in his arms. "He wouldn't leave without saying goodbye to you," he rasped, setting his son on the bed. You supposed that meant he didn't mind if Noah saw where you had slept last night. 

"Come here, sweet Noah," you whispered, pulling him in for a big hug and kissing his chubby cheek. I love you. Have fun at daycare."

"Love you," he said in his soft, little voice before Bradley scooped him up again and left the room. 

When you heard the front door close, you knew you wouldn't be able to fall asleep again, so you stretched and then got out of bed for the day. You wanted to grab a shower, but you thought it might be fun to wait until Bradley got back to do that. Instead you changed into one of his floral print shirts and made your way to the kitchen. 

You really should have been working on something for school, but when you opened the refrigerator for the coffee creamer, you sighed. They were basically out of food again already. A few eggs left in the carton and some vegetables would make a decent enough breakfast, but you'd need to help Bradley go grocery shopping again soon. 

You had just finished your mug of coffee and the grocery list when you heard the front door. "Hi," you called out to Bradley, and he walked into the kitchen where he immediately froze. There were coffee cups in his hands, and you could already see where he'd written Princess on one of them. "I'm going to make you breakfast."

But he was too busy staring at you, his gaze trailing down your body. You were immediately reminded that the only article of clothing you were wearing was his shirt, completely unbuttoned. 

Bradley set down the coffees and smirked at you. "You're gonna make me breakfast, Princess?" he asked. He grabbed your purple crown from where it had been left overnight next to the toaster, and he carefully put it on your head. 

"Yes," you whispered. "I was going to make you an omelette."

He groaned as his fingers stroked down along your cheek, caressing the side of your neck before continuing down the front of your body. You shivered as your eyes closed when he said, "You're so sensitive."

His fingers lingered on your belly before he started stroking your pussy. "Daddy," you gasped, and then he was on his knees in front of you. 

"You're perfect," he crooned, looking up at you. "Everything I want." His voice and his eyes were so open and honest, and then you ran your fingers through his hair. 

"I knew you'd have a good day, Daddy," you whispered with a grin. "After yesterday, you deserve a relaxing one."

"You know what will help me relax?" he asked. 

"Tell me."

And then his mouth was on your pussy.

--------------------

Bradley licked you up and down, loving the way you moaned softly every time his nose tapped your clit. When he ran his palm up and down the back of your thigh, you carefully put your leg over his shoulder, giving him even better access to your pretty pussy. And that purple paper crown on your head? All that did was make him feel like he and Noah had claimed you for their own. 

"Daddy?" you whispered breathlessly. "Are you going to make me squirt?"

Well. Now that was the only thing he wanted to do. "Is that what you need, Baby?" he asked, rubbing his mustache across your clit.

Your response was a bit incoherent, but it sounded like a yes. And Bradley was in the best mood he'd been in for weeks. Noah was his, and you were his, and he was going to meet up with Tracy next week to finalize everything that was important to him. So he'd gladly spend the whole day, right here on his knees with his mouth on your body until you came all over his face.

He smiled against you as he lapped up your wetness, but you really got loud when he added his fingers into the mix. You were leaning back against the counter, gripping the edge, and he knew he was going to have to get you to the edge of overstimulation. Just like last time in his bed. And just like the first time on the couch. 

So he changed up his pace, sometimes languid and sometimes frantic. And he changed up the pressure, sometimes feather soft and sometimes rough. His knees were starting to ache from how they were digging into the kitchen floor, but he didn't dare move. Because you were starting to get loud. Your head was tipped back, and your perfect breasts were on display as his colorful shirt fell open even more on your body. 

You were so young and flawless, and he never even tried to kid himself about the way that turned him on. But now you were his, and he would love you and take care of you well so that you'd want to stay. 

"Bradley!" you cried out, leg tightening against his back. "Oh!"

He grunted and rubbed his fingertips back and forth across your clit as the little bud tightened for him. He smiled as he changed his tempo. A little slower, and you were coming for him. A split second later, and you had pushed the back of his head closer as you squirted onto his mustache and lips. 

"Princess," he moaned as you sagged against him a little bit. You were still reeling as he cleaned you up with his tongue, eliciting little gasps from your softly parted lips. When he stood with a soft groan, he palmed himself through his jeans. He was rock hard as he pressed himself against you and stroked your tits. You were wrung out, biting your lip as your eyes fluttered open and closed, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted it so badly. "Will you let me fuck you, Baby?"

You nodded and turned your back to him. "Yes," you sighed, leaning down on the counter with your cheek pressed to your crossed arms. "Yes."

Bradley gingerly unzipped his jeans and pulled himself free, and when he buried his cock in your warmth he hissed in pleasure. You were mewling and whining softly, seemingly still exhausted from soaking his face, and Bradley couldn't believe you were letting him get off like this. He grabbed you by your hips, the hem of his shirt you were wearing brushing his wrists. Then he fucked you hard and thought about how you should wear his clothes all the time.

He wasn't going to last long in this state, palming and squeezing your hips and ass as he got you whining his name softly. He went a little harder, but as soon as you looked up at him and smiled softly, he was filling you with his cum. His loud groans filled the kitchen as his movements became jerky. And then he collapsed against your back with his lips on your neck. 

"You want me to make you an omelette, Daddy?" you asked softly while he was still inside you. 

"Yeah," he replied, wrapping you up in his arms. "Then I'm taking you out to lunch. We're going on a real date."

He watched you preen as his cum dripped down your legs. But you did nothing to clean it up as you washed your hands and started cracking eggs into a bowl. You added what was left of the cheese that was in the refrigerator along with some onions and peppers. After you made two omelettes, you settled onto his lap at the table

When you looked at the coffee cups, you hopped up again and started to dig in one of the drawers near the sink. "What's wrong, Baby?"

"Nothing," you murmured, returning to his lap a moment later with a permanent marker. Bradley watched you scribble over the word peasant on his cup and write Knight in your tidy handwriting. 

"That's flattering coming from a Princess," he whispered next to your ear. 

"It's true," you told him, taking his chin in your hand and kissing his lips. "You saved me and then you fought for Noah."

He closed his eyes as you stroked his chin with your thumb. The fact that he had his son all to himself meant he could share him with you. And he was working on a restraining order against Meredith to keep everyone a little safer. So maybe he was capable of more than he originally thought.

----------------------------

Shower time with Bradley ended up being more sweet than anything else as you and he got each other all soapy. He brought his phone in to play some music, and he sang along softly as his big hands glided along your slick skin. 

Once you were all dried off and in Bradley's bedroom, you just stood there naked. "I need to go back to my place. I hardly have any clothes here, and I need to do laundry."

He just grunted and said, "You should just move in with us."

You started to pull on your denim shorts and one of your tops as you rolled your eyes. "You're not serious."

But it didn't seem like he was joking at all, actually. He paused and looked at you as he put on some deodorant, his brown eyes sincere. "I'm serious," he said, his voice sounding a little more vulnerable than you expected it to. 

"I'll...think about it." But you already had. And the idea of it was too exciting for you to finish processing in front of him right now. He'd just been awarded sole custody of Noah yesterday. Both of you were probably feeling a little high on adrenaline and elation. 

But he just nodded and reached for your hand. "Let's stop at your place later after I take you out for lunch. If you want me to drop you off, I will."

You were already considering how it would be if you didn't get to make dinner for Noah and give him a kiss before Bradley tucked him into bed for the night, and you didn't like it one bit. You knew what your decision would end up being. You loved being here too much. Maybe you'd just stop home and get more of your stuff and your car.

As Bradley closed the passenger door for you after you climbed into the Bronco, you couldn't help but smile. "Is this our first date?" you asked him as he started the engine and backed out of his driveway. 

"No way," he replied. "Gotta count all the nights we watched movies on the couch with Noah. Oh, and the night I fed you the dinner that my date didn't stick around to eat," he said, smiling at you as he drove to one of the cute shopping districts in the city. "And just yesterday I took you to my custody hearing. That was a pretty romantic day out, yeah?"

You bit your lip and sighed. "So romantic. You really dial it up to eleven, Daddy."

"Only the best for a Princess," he insisted with a grin as he parallel parked in front of a cute bookshop. "I made a reservation for the cafe across the street."

Your eye bugged out. It was an expensive French bistrot. You were wearing cutoff shorts. "I'm underdressed!"

"You're fine," he insisted, leaning over to kiss your lips before he took the keys from the ignition. "But we have half an to kill. Bookshop?"

"Absolutely," you agreed. A few minutes later, you were running your fingers along the spines of some mystery novels while Bradley followed you so closely, you could feel his body heat. When you stopped to pick up a hardback, his lips found your neck, and his hands found your waist.

"Daddy," you scolded in a whisper.

"Can't help it."

Then you headed for the children's area, and your eyes lit up. "Noah would love this one!" You held up a picture book of dinosaurs, and Bradley let you hand it to him. 

"What else?" he asked, smiling as he followed you down the next aisle. 

"Outer space. Farm animals. Opposites. Cars. Fairy Tales." You handed him four more books and then picked up a fifth. "Airplanes."

"Well, he really needs that one," Bradley said, adding it to the pile as well.

"They have coloring books!" You knelt in front of the rack and chose three that he didn't already have, and Bradley took them before helping you to your feet. "Which one would he like the most besides the airplanes? I want to get him two."

Bradley shrugged. "We can get all of them."

"I can't afford all of them."

His eyebrows went up. "Baby, I don't want you spending your money on us. I'll buy them."

"But-"

"They can still be from you," he promised. "But I'll pay for them."

"Okay," you whispered, suddenly reminded that you and Bradley were not at the same points in life. He had a thriving career. You were going to be scrambling to finish your assignments in time to graduate and look for a job. And now, because of Meredith, you knew he had money. 

But you let him take you by the hand and lead you toward the register. You knew these books were going to cost nearly a hundred dollars. Then Bradley stopped short in front of a display of baby books. You felt his arm slip around your waist as he leaned down so his lips grazed your temple. 

"Been meaning to ask you, Princess," he said softly, and you turned to look up at him. His face was calm as his gaze dipped down to your lips. "Were you really buying a pregnancy test when you saw Meredith? You think you could be pregnant?"

"No!" you replied with a startled laugh. "Her lawyer just said that to get me upset! I'm not!"

"Okay," he said with a shrug. "Just checking to see if we should be buying any baby books."

You just shook your head as he set the books for Noah down near the registers. "Absolutely not! That would be a disaster."

"Nah," he whispered, taking out his wallet. "It would be okay. Well...maybe not quite yet, since you're just graduating now. But...later."

You were silent as he paid for the books, but you laced your fingers through his. You weren't sure quite what to say, as you and he walked across the street, so you just let your mind race with possibilities. 

And then you were seated at the adorable cafe table with him for lunch. The restaurant was all pastel colors, floral arrangements and expensive desserts. He ordered a bottle of champagne to share, and you were a little bit tipsy as you giggled and bit into a lemon macaron when the bill arrived. Your eyes bugged out when you saw it. Three hundred dollars. 

"Bradley," you gasped. "How much was the champagne?" 

"Don't worry about it," he said, giving you a funny look. 

But as you walked back toward the Bronco with his arm around your waist and a head full of champagne bubbles, you blurted out, "I'm not interested in you for your money."

"Never thought you were," he replied casually, opening the passenger door for you with a kiss. "Let's go stop by your place."

As he walked around to the driver's door, you knew you should insist that he drop you off at home. But when he climbed in, he turned to you and said, "I kind of miss Noah. Mind if we pick him up early after we stop to get you more clothing?"

And then your love for both of them felt so palpable all you could say was, "I miss him, too."

"It's settled then."

-----------------------

Later that evening, after the three of you went grocery shopping, Bradley watched you teach Noah how to play Go Fish on the living room floor with a forgotten bowl of popcorn next to you. He was essentially just your servant for the night, bringing both of you snacks and drinks while you played. Not that he minded at all. 

The fact that you tried to let him know you weren't into him just because he had a job and some money was pretty humorous. But then again, you'd just witnessed Meredith trying to fleece him. So while he didn't need you to say anything about it at all, he did appreciate that you had. 

Bradley had also surprised himself. When he considered that you might be pregnant? Well, he didn't hate the idea of it one bit. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted Noah to have a younger sibling or two. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to raise said children with you. But you were young. There would be time to plan for that in the future.

He sat on the couch and sorted his mail from the past few days. He'd been so preoccupied with Meredith and Tracy and everything going on, he realized he needed to catch up on chores. "Almost time for bed, Bub," he said, smiling as you let Noah win at the card game. Then his hand froze before opening the envelope that arrived today. 

Deployment papers. 

If he hadn't skipped out on work again today, he would have been informed in person. Shit. Six weeks away from home. He watched you laughing as you ate a few pieces of popcorn. And then Noah was climbing into your lap and asking you to read another one of the books you'd picked out for him. 

"Okay, but your dad said it's almost bedtime. How about we go brush your teeth and get pajamas on? And then I'll read the outer space book before you do goodnight kisses?"

Noah readily agreed, and then you were leading him from the room. Bradley took the opportunity to email Tracy as well as send a text to Nat. His best friend had been bugging him to elaborate about yesterday, but she also knew he needed a little bit of time to process things and take a little break after all the worrying. 

"Daddy?" you called out, and Bradley smiled as he stood. "We're ready for bed."

"I'm coming." He sat on Noah's floor and listened to you read the book about solar systems and space exploration while Noah looked at the pictures. And when it was time for goodnight kisses, Noah gave you one and then Bradley leaned down to smother his face with a dozen. He giggled and then yawned, and as Bradley took your hand and pulled you out of the room, Noah's eyes were drifting closed. 

You started to pull Bradley toward his bedroom with a smirk, but he shook his head. The startled look on your face reminded him that you were only accustomed to getting what you wanted around here now. And he loved that. "I need to show you something first," he insisted, kissing your forehead. 

"Okay, but why do you sound so reserved?"

"Just come here, please." He picked up the mail from where he left it, and then he sat down on the couch. You eased yourself down next to him, taking the papers when he handed them to you. "You know what that is?"

"No." But as soon as you scanned the header, your eyes went wide. You read for a few seconds before whispering, "You're being deployed?"

"Yes," he replied, but you had returned to the document in your hands, your eyes moving quickly down the page before you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

"Who's going to care for Noah?! Bradley, he needs to be on a schedule with daycare. And someone needs to make sure he eats healthy dinners and snacks. And he needs bedtime stories and coloring books." You looked panicked, and then tears filled your eyes. "And I don't want you to go away. I'll miss you too much."

He collected you onto his lap and swiped your tears away as they fell, but he couldn't help but smile. Your concern for Noah, ever since the very first day, made him feel so calm. And he knew you loved his son. "Well, I'm kind of hoping you'll care for Noah while I'm gone."

"Me?" you squeaked, lips parted in surprise. "You'd trust me with Noah by myself for six weeks?"

"More than I'd trust anyone else."

You threw your arms around his neck again and sobbed against him. "I'll do it. I'll stay with Noah. I'll take expert care of him."

"You already do."

-------------------------

Oh, Daddy! We don't want you to leave! But the way he trusts Princess is everything. Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 27

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[ummmlife]

Domestic Kento Nanami headcanons ;

warnings! : also relationship headcanons , nsfw (masturbation , cockwarm)

• He snores, loudly, like a bear... i won't elaborate

• Gets jealous easy but it's the type of pout and cross his arms offended when this happens

• Also, this only happens in private with his partner, never in public, oh no how embarrassing

• Pouty king

• After sex doesn't take his peewee out from his partner but instead sleep while keeping it deep inside to cockwarm

• Drinking at 10 a. m? if Ken-chan is stressed or anxious, sure thing

• Likes to sleep with 5 pillows: two under his head, one to hug, one on his back and one between his legs

• On a good week, Kento will cook the most tasteful and healthy gourmet meals

• On a bad week, plain bread and 7-Eleven sandwichs will make it, maybe some white rice

• He collects tote bags, a lot, he has, at least, 6 per every day of the week

• Kento once got a trojan virus on his laptop, now his laptop mines cryptocurrencies at night

• He cuts his toenails on thursdays every 3 weeks

• Kento usually doesn't get drunk but when he does it happens at home, he gets super cheesy and also clingy

• Will also accept to try new things in bed, but please just put him on sleep

• Collects a lot of books (canon), but he does it just for the need of consumism

• Cleaning maniac, but to the point of washing your own a-hole when showering to keep it clean for him he'll slide his fingers inside and–

• Loves to comb his partner's hair, he's the type of making you fall asleep just by combing your hair

• When going to the beach don't even try to play sexy by asking him to apply you sunscreen on your back, Ken-chan will bathe you in sunscreen like an overprotective parent

• Kento has an PS4, does he plays with it? Absolutely, in fact, his partner is not allowed to touch his PS4 unless he's with them

• He's the type of savings his partner's phone number by [Name][Last name]

• But when he decides to make his relationship more serious it will be [Name][Nanami]

• Religiously naps after lunch on his days off

• Kento masturbates when he gets insomnia to get tired and finally sleep

• Also, Kento suffers from insomnia most of the time

• Is the one in charge of getting rid of the bugs that get into your home, but if a cockroach starts to fly, babe you're on your own

• Get him a pompompurin plushie and it will sleep with him from now on

• Good night and good morning kisses are a must for Kento, beware of this before deciding to fall asleep/get out of bed without kissing him and break his heart

im kinda drunk and i decided to write this so if something doesn't makes sense don't blame me 🍷 cheers

[countdykulaa]

﹟ ⠀ ⠀ 𝟎𝟎𝟏 ⠀ . ⠀ ⠀JUST A LITTLE BIT COLDER⠀ ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ⠀ ❪ ⠀ obsessed! reader x dark! sevika ⠀ ❫

synopsis: despite all your efforts, you can't help the deep one-sided obsession you've gained with the dangerous criminal. you spend your days chiding yourself yet inevitably succumb to the temptation of contacting her when the desires becomes irresistible.

cw: dom!sevika, masturbation, pathetic and i mean p - a - t - h - e - t - i - c reader

the phone rang , echoing in the sterile confines of your apartment . you remain under your sheets , your nightdress raised until it comfortably lay on your stomach . you knew sevika was a busy person , always running around the city her family practically owned , but the femme always answered. it was as if she sensed the pathetic desperation you felt on the phone before even rising from her sheets in the morning.

"hello?" her voice was cold , a common fact that never seemed to steer you away.

the sound of your heart racing pounded through your ears. your chest rose as each tension soaked second passed. "hi, sevika."

a frustrated sigh crackled through the line . "you again? why don't you bother someone else ? im tired of this game."

your grip on the phone tightened as your hand moved dangerously low. "I just … I need to hear your voice."

It had started as mere curiosity, a perverse fascination with the woman responsible

for not only controlling the city you inhabited all your life but successfully evading law enforcement. she resided in the shadows , very few knowing where she was , but everyone knowing what she was capable of. you, being the homebody you were vagualy heard of her through word of mouth whenever your relatives came to visit. overexaggerated fables on all the unspeakable sins she'd committed spoken with a passion with each passing day. she was almost akin to the boogeyman in everyone's eyes. you thought it was ridiculous. one being have such power on peoples imagination. if the city you occupied wasn't fairly busy you'd chalk it up to be nothing but boredom that slithered its way into peoples lives and donned them the role of gossiper.

it's only on a random thursday that you decide to pay more attention to your aunts third rendition about the enigmatic woman instead of flipping through your book for the tenth time that evening. you blame her mesmerizing storytelling skills for the way it draws you in and hooks you. you count that mundane evening as the beginning of everything. she goes on and on about how sevika and her clan basically own the street wherein she lives , never heard or seen but always felt and a part of you slowly hungers for more information.

you spend your days , hunched over researching about her when you weren't at work , fantasizing about her. you obsess over her known locations , comings and goings and aliases shifting through any public records you could find on her. eventually you shifted from public records to gathering the information from means you never even dreamed of . your soul is not satisfied , demanding to know more and more about the woman until your social group dwindles to yourself and the chirping birds outside your windows. the continuous researching only fed your obsession with her until it grew a mouth of its own and ate away at the rest of you until your existence revolved around the beguiling image of her.

she embodied the epitome of your aspirations , a presence you yearned for earnestly . each time you closed your eyes , she materialized before you , only to linger in your consciousness upon each awakening . to say you yearned for her would be to say you yearned for oxygen. the boundary between your identity and hers blurred indistinguishably. it was only a matter of time before your obsessive desires overpowered your slipping sense of rationality.

evidently her number finds a home in your phone. obtained from a random employee of sevika's who owed you a favour. it had only taken you a few weeks of dedicated planning and nonstop delusions , but you had done it. you never plan on calling her, but the mere fact that a piece of her however minuscule it may be is in your possession makes you want to celebrate.

in the dimly lit living room , empty bottles and a half - filled wine glass clutter the coffee table . the faint hum of the tv provides a backdrop to your erratic thoughts . your thoughts , like always center on sevika. what she was doing , wearing , how she’d possibly react to you , a stranger being this pathetic over a mere idea of her . you doubt she has a kind bone in her body and yet that doesn’t stop your hand from finding its place under your sweats and black panties .

you don't do much more than tease yourself , softly dragging your fingers up and down your lips before finally settling on your clit . you're usually pretty dry at first but your ongoing thoughts and the liqour coursing through your frame gets you a little damp.

the alcohol has more control over your limbs than you'd like to admit as you turn your gaze to your phone . in your drunken lust-driven haze a desperate thought runs through your mind . you need to call sevika. just to hear her voice , fantasize about all she would say to you . why else would you acquire her number ?

your fingers trembling as you call her, unable to focus on anything else but the forbidden allure of her voice. you shouldn't be doing this. your thundering heart pounding against your chest like a wild symphony, each beat echoing the danger of your lust driven actions.

"hello?"

oh.

your imagination doesn't do her justice . you hear the raspiness of her voice and envision the meanness in her eyes as you gyrate your fingers on your clit. your head sways back , eyes fluttering . you can just imagine her now , back hunched over her desk , a pile of questionable documents looking as worn out and frustrated as ever .

"hello?" she responds , her tone taking an irritated note. "if this is one of those stupid fucking prank calls i swear to god - "

a high pitched moan slips from your lips before you can even think to contain it , effectively cutting her off . a silence looms over the both of you. you're sure you can imagine the surprise on her face. eyebrows raised, as sudden jolt runs through her body. you made her feel something.

"sorry , you have the wrong number - "

"no." you quickly correct her , breathing out a sigh of pleasure . "it's you sevika. im going to cum soon, please touch me there."

you hear her breath hitch, a second passes. two. your chest tightens in anticipation. three. a zapping thrum spreads through your legs. four. "what's your name ?"

you're silent , the only sound being your heavy breathing and the faint background of the tv . desperation sinks into your bones the longer you remain on the phone . "who is this?"

"doesn't matter im … im no one." you breath out , your legs instinctively shutting around your hand. your eyes flutter as you imagine that voice talking to you, the confusion in her tone replaced with a dark possessiveness, compelling you to go faster, harder. "i know what you've done … what you do. "

"and that excites you doesn't it?"

the silent yes is heard with the way your moans go up an octave. she goes quiet until the only sound heard is from your side and you fear she dropped the phone.

"se-sevika ? are you-"

"what are you doing right now?"

your movements stutter in slight surprise . "im…im fucking myself and pretending its you. your hand , your mouth , your frame , your … anything you'll give me." the words rush out of your mouth . she doesn't laugh at the desperation drenched in your words but you can feel the mocking tone her words take.

"are you close?"

"yes ... yes...yes." you whimper.

you can feel her hands roaming down your malleable flesh, searing her prints into your flesh until you twist and contort at her will. feel the weight of her breath with each stroke. there’s energy zapping through your form and you throw your head back. you want her. need her. exist for her.

the thought of her strong thighs clenched to aid the ache between her own thighs makes your chest heavier. what if that’s why she’s so quiet? the thought of you is almost half as tantalising as her. you’re in her mind like a parasite. sucking away everything that makes her complete until she is but a statue you can marvel.

“im coming. oh. oh im coming.” you stutter out. a silence lapses between you two. this one thicker than the last. your tongue lays heavy in your mouth, a certain fear overtaking the desire.

"don't ever fucking call this line again." she whispers , voice dark and full of danger in a way that makes your swollen clit pulsate and breath hitch before promptly hanging up.

PLUTOS THOUGHTS: this was longer and sloppier than usual but i hope its good !

TAGLIST: @cyb3rdino

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

I Surrender Who I've been, For Who You Are

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of past trauma, past abuse, torture, death, some smut MDNI (18+), slow morning sex, fingering but it fades to black, mentions of sex, Ghost opening up

Words: 5.7k

Synopsis: Simon opens up to you...

Link to The Roommate Series Masterlist

You currently reading chapter 9 of The Roommate Series

Simon jerked awake and it took him a moment to realize he was in bed with you. He took a couple of deep breaths to slow his racing heart and he rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he stared up at the ceiling to ground himself.

Another nightmare. He couldn’t remember what it was about, and that was a good thing, but he knew by the sinking pit of dread in his stomach that it had been something awful. 

He grabbed his phone and squinted when it turned on to see that he had woken up at five on the dot, which didn’t surprise him considering he had never slept in since he had joined the military. Even when he was home he still got up around five and usually he would be making breakfast on most days but today was Thursday, meaning you had an early class.

He sighed and he felt that all too familiar pit form in his stomach. He tossed his phone away and rolled over to see you curled up beside him. 

You were deep in sleep and yet even in your sleep you leaned most of your weight against him. Not that he minded, in fact he liked it almost too much because instead of getting out of bed as soon as he woke up like normal he got even more comfortable.

He pulled you into his chest and breathed in your scent deeply, burying his nose in the crook of your neck before he shut his eyes.

Simon wanted to keep you here. It was selfish but after everything, after coming home to you injured and after what happened earlier this week, he didn’t want to have to say goodbye to you and spend a couple hours by himself. He’d much rather spend time with you especially now that his injury was mostly healed.

He wanted to take you on more dates, it would be the best time for it since it was technically summer now, there would be more opportunities to act like a couple.

Simon ran his thumb across your skin as he hugged you closer to him. 

A couple. A relationship, that was certainly something he had never done before. He had never had anything this serious in his life, any relationship in his past had been one time flings or casual hookups with the same person for a few months before they eventually got tired of waiting for him. 

This was nothing like that and while that scared him he also knew that this is what he wanted. For once he knew that he belonged with you, he was confident that you were the one he wanted to be with and he knew he could live up to your expectations as well.

But he also knew that meant he needed to be more open with you.

And he couldn’t lie to himself and say that didn’t terrify him.

Simon built walls, he didn’t break them or remove them because those walls kept him safe. It was so much easier for him to keep everything to himself and deal with it on his own where he controlled those feelings and thoughts rather than let anyone know what was going on in his mind. He relied on that safety for most of his life and most of his career considering just how downhill it went, even if it isolated him. 

But that safety pushed you away and suddenly it didn’t matter anymore. Suddenly it felt too lonely and his walls felt more like a prison, especially when he realized just how badly they could hurt the one he loved.

He’d never forget hearing you cry behind the bathroom door and in some sick twisted way he hoped he always remembered if that happened again.

He knew he had to be more open with you, about whatever he was feeling but also about himself too. It wasn’t fair to only show you a tiny part of Simon Riley, the part that was the “perfect” version of himself for you when he knew it would blow up in his face if he continued to keep most of himself hidden.

He wasn’t sure how to do it, how to open up to you but at least he knew you’d never have to see Ghost. That was the one thing he couldn’t compromise on because if you saw Ghost then he was sure you wouldn’t find anything good about him to stay.

Simon let out another deep sigh. He’d figure out how to do it sometime soon, he needed a plan and to prepare himself for the worst when he decided to sit you down for a talk. For now, he just wanted to spend a few more minutes with you in bed before you had to get up. 

His eyebrows knitted together and he opened his eyes to a slightly brighter room as the sun rose outside.

Your alarm should’ve gone off by now, he was sure of it. He didn’t want to snoop through your phone but he also didn’t want you to be late to your class, even if you hated it. 

Simon gently ran his hand up your arm before he placed a few soft kisses to your cheek. He squeezed your shoulder as he placed kisses against your skin and watched you slowly wake up from your deep sleep.

“Love.” He mumbled and you hummed as you leaned closer to him, letting him press another kiss to your temple. “You need to wake up for your class.”

“It’s summer break.” You placed a hand over his and rubbed your thumb over his knuckles. 

He paused for a minute and stared at you. He’s not sure why it didn’t click that it was summer, maybe because it really didn’t matter when he was at work, but suddenly he felt warmth spread across his body. He had uninterrupted time to spend with you now, at least until Price came to check on him and bring him back to the base.

He didn’t want to think of that right now. Now he just wanted to make up for the fact he woke you up so early for nothing.

“Sorry.” Simon hummed and started to place slow, opened mouth kisses on your neck. 

He continued when you let out a deep sigh and revealed more of your neck to him, a small whimper escaping your mouth when he sucked on the spot just underneath your ear. 

The noises you made fueled the fire in his stomach as he began to grind his hard cock against your ass, his kisses becoming more heated when you pressed yourself against him. 

He slipped his hand underneath your shirt and palmed your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers as you let out a soft moan. He ran his calloused fingers down your skin and lightly nipped your earlobe as his fingers slid into your underwear. His fingers teased your slick folds before he delved into your heat while his thumb rubbed slow but deep circles on your clit.

You were so warm and the moans you let out were so beautiful that he could imagine this is what heaven had to be like.

Simon stood in the kitchen preparing to make breakfast a couple hours later. He glanced at the clock and couldn’t help but feel proud of himself that you were still asleep. It only felt right considering it was your summer break and after the past week and half of him recovering, you deserved to rest. 

He ran his fingers across the taut skin where a new scar would be added to his body. The stitches had dissolved earlier in the week and the pain was long gone, he was back to normal, or as normal as someone like him could be.

He began to make breakfast and his mind wandered.

Getting back on the mission would be tough, especially after having been abruptly taken off it, and he wondered how much the others have gotten done in the two weeks he’s been gone. He knew they got the intel they needed when he had gone back to get patched up but Price was keeping a tight lip on any info.

“No talking shop over the phone, you know that. Recover and spend time with your partner, I’ll call you when I need you.”

It was frustrating and the only thing that made it better was the fact that he had you. If it weren’t for the fact that this was an opportunity for him to spend time with you he’d be losing his mind over this.

You made it better, you always made being home away from work better and that made him even more inclined to open up.

Christ, where would he even start?

His entire life was, is, a mess, a disaster, especially compared to yours and anywhere he thought about starting felt like too much. There were so many details he wouldn’t dare tell you but how do you even go about telling someone your life has never been good until you were an adult who’s just going by day to day?

He didn’t want to scare you away, put too much on you or make you think that he expected you to carry all of his emotional burdens. Would you even want to stay with him if he told you all that was wrong with him?

What had his therapist said all those years ago? Fuck, it’s all blurred together now and it’s not like he can call her up to ask.

Simon sighed deeply and took a long sip of his tea. 

Maybe he was overthinking it, maybe he was making the wrong choice. He didn’t know what was right, what was wrong, what any of this meant and he wasn’t sure if there was anyone in his life that he could ask for advice about it.

If his mum were still alive…

Your bedroom door opened and stole his attention away from his thoughts. He listened to you slowly make your way to the kitchen and a smile tugged at his lips. He was a little disappointed he wasn’t the one to wake you up again but it didn’t matter much to him as he heard you walk down the hall. 

“Morning.” He greeted you when you entered the kitchen.

He peered over his shoulder when you gave him a sleepy hum and his chest warmed when he saw your bedhead. You were wearing one of his shirts and you attempted to rub the sleep from your eyes as you came up to him.

You place a hand on his bare back and Simon leaned into your touch before he pulled you into his side.

“Smells good.” You breathed out as you wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your face in his chest.

“Not the strangest compliment I’ve gotten.” He teased and sighed deeply when you pressed a kiss to his skin with a small laugh. “Sleep alright?”

“Oh, yeah. I slept great.”

Simon smirked and let the compliment feed his ego as he held you close to him. He finished up breakfast and went to get the plates for you both when you took his attention away by stopping him.

Your eyes met and for a moment the air was knocked out of his lungs. You looked at him with such an endearing affectionate look that for a moment he forgot exactly who he was and everything that he had come from. All he could do was remember all the times you had looked at him with the same fondness before as if he was a different man with less scars on his body and his mind.

The warmth in your eyes was all encompassing. You somehow always reserved it for him whenever you stared at him like this, when you were in his arms or halfway across the room, and it never failed to make the tension leave from his worn muscles. 

It was unmistakable, what the look meant, and yet some part of him still held onto the doubt in the back of his mind because you made it look so effortless.

His throat tightened up for just a moment before he swallowed the lump and pressed his forehead against yours.

“Careful looking at me like that.” He warned softly and watched as you began to grin. 

“Like what?” There was glint in your eye and he scoffed.

“Cheeky.”

He kissed your forehead and your eyes fluttered shut. He ran his fingers across your hairline before he gently caressed your face like you were made of glass. He held you close to him, caging you to his chest and you leaned into him with a sigh.

“Breakfast’ll get cold.” You murmured but made no indication that you were going to move out of his arms, in fact you hugged him closer.

“I’ll make more.”

You chuckled before the both of you reluctantly let go of each other. Unfortunately, neither of you were keen on letting good breakfast go to waste and before long the two of you sat across from each other while you ate. 

The conversation was easy, it always was when it came to you, and for a moment he wondered why he ever thought that speaking to you about the darker side of his life would ever be an issue.

“What’s on your mind?” You wondered.

He must’ve been staring off into space or maybe you just knew what to look for when he thought a little too hard. It was too early in the morning for a talk like that. He’d rather wait until the day was almost over so if it went wrong at least he wouldn’t have ruined a good day like today.

“What do you want to do today?” He changed the subject.

You hummed, your eyes narrowing slightly with suspicion at his dismissal of the question. You stared at him and he stared back unphased but amused as he saw you debate in real time on whether or not you wanted to press him about what he was thinking about.

Simon continued to eat and raised his eyebrows to silently ask you to say something.

“I need to get a birthday present for my friend.” You said and he nodded. “So we can go shopping and you can tell me what you're thinking about.”

“Would you believe me if I said nothing?”

“Absolutely not.”

He sighed and shook his head but he didn’t feel annoyed. He knew if it came down to it, you wouldn’t pressure him to speak about whatever he was thinking about. It bothered him but he would tell you eventually, once he got the courage to do it and because he made a promise to you.

You gave him a smile, a warm one, but he saw the hidden mischief behind it. There was no avoiding the conversation now, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to avoid it anymore anyway.

“Later.” He promised and your eyes widened slightly with surprise. “What?”

“I thought it’d take more convincing.” You said and he shrugged with a small smile on his face.

“You’re persuasive.”

You gasped and he watched your eyes twinkle as you came to the realization that you had a lot more power over him than you had originally thought. He could see your confidence peak more and more as you stared at him with shock while you slowly became elated over the idea of convincing him to whatever you wanted him to do.

“So what you’re saying I could ask you to do anything?”

Simon had to stop himself from telling you the truth that yes, you really could ask him to do anything and he’d do it. It was almost scary how willing he was to do anything for you just because it was you but he would do it without much thought, especially if it meant you were happy.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” He shook his head but you were grinning, much like how Soap did when he got an outrageous idea and he couldn’t help but feel a little bit of dread.

“Sorry, but all I’m hearing is free lunch today.” You teased and he rolled his eyes as if he’d let you pay for your own lunch anyway.

The two of you finished breakfast and before you could snatch the empty plates away from Simon, he had already put them in the sink and began to wash them. You gave him a playful glare, one that he returned before he nodded towards the door.

It was surprising how willing he was to go shopping nowadays if it meant he got to spend more time with you. He couldn’t believe he was trying to get you to hurry and get ready so the two of you could do it together. 

“Go get dressed.” He told you so the two of you could get started on shopping.

“Help me.”

Simon’s eyes shot to yours and he stopped what he was doing.

You had a glint in your eyes as you looked at him through your eyelashes. There was a deep desire within them, something that could only be attributed to lust as you lightly dragged your fingernails across his skin which left goosebumps in their wake. 

You grabbed his wrist and tugged him towards the door.

He followed you without hesitation. 

~

Simon stood in the store with you later, confused as to why you had immediately gone to the toy section instead of anywhere else in the store since he was sure that the friend you were getting the present for was at the same university as you.

“What are we doing in the toy aisle?” He practically glared at the toys on the shelves on either side of him.

“My friend likes these stuffed animals.” You explained as you sifted through the stuffed animals in front of you without a care in the world.

He grunted and stepped closer to you, his eyes fixated on the various toys around him. Most of them were generic, Barbies and other dolls with all of the accessories they’d ever need, random toy animals and of course the stuffed animals you were looking at. He was sure that the next aisle over had even more options for children to play with and he felt himself tense up slightly at the idea.

This was the first time he had been in the toy aisle since Joseph. 

So much had changed. There were so many different toys than what he could barely remember and yet he couldn’t help but think that his nephew probably would’ve loved to play with all of them.

He clenched his jaw and turned his attention elsewhere before a lego set caught his eye. 

It was small, nothing spectacular compared to the other ones on the shelf that he could see, but it still caught his eye. He never had a lego set growing up and he knew for a fact that if he had seen the one he was staring at when he was younger he would’ve begged his mum to get it for him only to be told no.

In hindsight, it wouldn’t have survived in his house if he had it anyway.

“Did you play with legos when you were a kid?” You asked, your voice pulling his attention away from his thoughts.

“No.”

He turned to you and saw that your face had fallen into a slight frown. You glanced between him and the lego set, your eyes having a sort of soft sadness in them that made him clench his jaw slightly.

He didn’t mean to be short with you but he wasn’t ready to tell you all about why he never got to play with legos as a kid in the middle of the store. No one in public needed to know what his home life used to be like.

“What kind of toys did you play with?” You wondered.

“Figurines.” He lied and looked at the toy animals across from him. “I read more as a kid.”

“That reminds me that you need to get more books, you read them all.”

He hummed and nodded, ready to let you change the subject as he watched you pick out a stuffed animal you thought that your friend would like. He followed you to the check out before you somehow convinced him to drive the car closer to pick you up at the doors instead of having you walk to the car with him. 

Before long, the two of you were back at the flat after having an early lunch he of course paid for even when you tried to argue that you were joking about it beforehand.

Now he sat on the couch with you watching the horrible TV show you liked but his mind was elsewhere.

Simon still found himself stuck inside his thoughts, playing over the idea of telling you or not, to the point he was thinking in circles not getting any closer to an answer. Nothing sounded right, not telling you felt like he wasn’t being truthful but telling you felt like maybe it was just too much.

He didn’t realize how quiet he’d gotten until you placed a gentle hand on top of his and leaned some of your weight against him. 

You had a concerned look in your eyes when they met but he gave you a small reassuring smile before he took your hand in his. You didn’t look that convinced even when he gave your hand a squeeze.

“I might have something to cheer you up.” You offered and he raised an eyebrow. 

“I’m not upset.” He said, which wasn’t a total lie since he was more confused than anything.

“Can I still try?”

“Depends on what you have.”

You jumped up from the couch. He watched you curiously as you rushed into your room before you returned with your hands hidden behind your back, much like how you acted when you were giving him the joke book for his birthday.

He gave you a suspicious look and tried to peek around you to see what you had, but you moved it out of his view each time he leaned forward.

“This is not pay back for driving me around today or buying me lunch.” You prefaced and his eyebrows knitted together.

It wasn’t until you pulled out the lego set he had been staring at earlier that his eyes widened slightly and he gave you an unsure look. You however gave him a warm smile before you held it out for him to take and sat down next to him when he did.

“Why?” That was the only thing he could ask you as he stared at the box before he looked at you.

“Because I like you.” You said and he felt his chest tighten. “Everyone deserves to play with legos.”

It took everything in Simon to not drop the box on the floor and kiss you until both of you were about to pass out. How could you say something like that so easily and be completely serious about it as if it were some natural fact about the world. Your words calmed him and riled him up, it caused a torrent of different emotions inside of him that felt so overwhelming good he had no clue how to deal with them.

You were everything to him and he was so afraid of losing you because of who he was.

“You’ll help me, yeah?” 

“Of course.”

Simon wasn’t sure how long the two of you sat there and worked on the lego set. He had a lot more fun with it than he would’ve thought even as he followed the instructions and listened to you talk. He wasn’t sure why sitting next to you and playing with legos of all things made his chest feel warm and made him truly understand that his feelings for you were deeper than anything he had ever felt before but he couldn’t have been happier.

You made him feel so safe and so loved. He knew you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

“Can I…I want to be more open with you.” He began and you gave him your full attention. “But I don’t want it to change anything.”

“It won’t.” You said confidently and for a moment he felt a twinge of anxiety hit his stomach.

How could you be so sure? What if he told you and you decided he wasn’t worth it?

“You are worth it to me because it’s you.”

Your words repeated in his head and the anxiety settled. He had to trust that you were truthful when you said it, that you really meant it.

He set the last of the lego set down and settled back against the couch, his attention on you as you did the same. He watched as you kept a short distance between the two of you and he couldn’t help but feel a little grateful for that.

“We go at your pace.” You told him.  “You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re uncomfortable.”

Simon nodded and thought for a moment. He had no idea where to start, how to talk about it without sounding utterly insane but all he could manage was speaking matter of factly about it.

“My father was abusive.” He practically blurted it out.

You had a serious look on your face and though your eyes went sad he didn’t see pity in them, and somehow that made him feel better. You didn’t say anything as you patiently waited for him to continue.

“He used to torment me. I was always too afraid to stand up to him or to fight back. I joined the military to get away but I always wanted to help, and I was able to get the job that I have now because of that. When I came home it was worse than before…I wasn’t scared anymore and I was finally able to kick him out and never had to see him again.”

“Where is he now?”

“Dead.”

You nodded and he was grateful there was an ounce of remorse for the bastard in your eyes. Instead, you placed a hand on his shoulder and rubbed it comfortingly across his muscles as you went silent again.

“I stayed after that. My brother was an addict and I couldn’t leave ‘em so I helped him get and stay clean, helped my mum too.” He went on and leaned into you when you began to trace patterns into his tattoo.

“That was good of you.” You told him with a proud smile that warmed his chest. 

“Before long Tommy met his wife and got married, then he had Joseph. I had a nephew who had to be the best kid I’d ever met even when he acted out. For once in my life I had a family that felt good, because life was good.”

Images of Simon’s happy family replayed in his mind. His mum who always treated him kindly even when he would have his moment, even when she had been under extreme stress because of his father. Tommy and the way they finally got close after everything and how trusted him enough to let him babysit Joseph. Images of the kid who always wanted to be around him, who looked up at him as if he were the coolest person in the room.

They were far from perfect but they were his family. 

He couldn’t help but wonder what they would’ve thought of you. He could imagine his brother teasing him about how you were “out of his league” or how his mum would fawn over you at every chance she would get, pulling you to the side with Beth and telling you all of the embarrassing stories about him she could.

Simon’s face had fallen and you stopped tracing his tattoo. 

“They would’ve loved you.”

Your eyes widened and your face fell. You looked almost panicked as you stared at him. He could see you thinking up every possibility, hoping that you were wrong about what you knew he was implying as a deep sadness crept into your eyes. 

“Are they…?” You barely spoke above a whisper and when he nodded you immediately grabbed his hand. “Oh, god, I’m so sorry.”

Simon held your hand firmly. He felt the heavy weight of grief push against him like many times before. It happened years ago now but sometimes it still felt like it was recent. Normally he wouldn’t feel so upset but maybe it was because he was finally talking about it to someone else, with you, that it began to open old wounds.

“I went back to work once everything was normal. I was asked to help for an op and there were these two soldiers with me when it went south.” He trailed off and suddenly his voice was lost.

Panic hit his chest and he swallowed hard. He balled his hands into fists as he tried his hardest to hide the fact that he was beginning to shake.

How could you love someone who went through what he did? His scars never bothered him until this moment, until he realized that once he told you where most of them came from you might not look at him the same way. You might look at him like he was broken and not worth the hassle even when he was going to spare you the details.

What happened to him doesn’t happen to regular people and you deserved someone a lot more normal than him. 

You caught his attention when you gave his hand a comforting squeeze. When he looked at you, your eyes were reassuring despite the sadness in them and you rubbed your thumb across his knuckles.

“It’s okay.” Your voice was soft and warm. “We can stop.”

He shook his head. Even if he was afraid he knew he had to say something, if he didn’t then he’d regret it later on.

Before he could think, Simon pulled you into his lap and hugged you. He let out a shaky breath when you hugged him back, your fingers carding through his hair in an attempt to comfort him. 

He held you like this would be the last time he would be able to. He stayed quiet for a long moment so he could just sit in your presence as he waited to get enough composure to continue.

You waited too. You didn’t say anything as you continued to play with his hair. 

“I was tortured for months.”

You shot up and he felt his heart go into his throat. You stared at him with horror as tears immediately filled up your eyes while you stared at him in disbelief. 

You shook your head as you held his face delicately and your thumb caressed the scar close to his eye. Tears began to fall and intense grief flashed across your face, like you were mourning his death, before he wrapped his arms around your waist.

He watched you cry and watched your heart break for him. Guilt rose up inside him and he rubbed his thumbs into your hips.

“I’m sorry-”

“No. Don’t you dare apologize.”

You sobbed softly and you tried to wipe the tears from your eyes. Unfortunately they wouldn’t stop so instead you pulled him back into a hug that he gratefully accepted.

He knew you didn’t want him to feel guilty for telling you and he knew that you were trying hard to stop yourself from crying. He knew you too well to know that you were crying because you were upset that something bad had happened to him which would’ve been endearing if it weren’t for the fact that he felt incredibly vulnerable right now.

He was glad he had you. Just having you in his lap was enough to make him feel safe.

“I’m sorry.” You sniffled and tried to wipe the tears away from your eyes. “You didn’t deserve that.”

Simon held you tighter. You began to run your hands through his hair again and he slowly found it easier to breathe despite the shakiness in his chest. 

He didn’t deserve it. You believed that, of course you would and for once he actually believed it too.

He had told himself so many times that he somehow deserved it, he must’ve done something to cause his father to treat him that way, that he must’ve done something horrible to end up on the end of torture for months on end. He had to because that only happened to the worst kinds of people and yet…

He didn’t deserve it.

He took a deep, shaky breath and hugged you closer to him. A massive weight lifted off of his shoulders and he buried his face in the crook of your neck as he blinked away the tears. 

“I’m better than I used to be.” He assured you with all honesty. “Some days are just worse than others.”

“And that’s okay.” You placed a warm kiss on his temple. “I’ll be strong when you can’t.”

Simon’s heart skipped a beat and he cursed under his breath.

He pulled away from you and locked you into a deep, tender kiss. You were still crying but he didn’t care as he held onto you as if you were his saving grace. 

You kissed him back just as fervently, caressing his face and holding him as if you were protecting him from the world. 

There were so many emotions swirling inside of him that he wished he could tell you how much he loved you, how far he was willing to go for you and everything he’d do for you.

He’d tell you ten times over, he’d tell you everyday if he could but the words always died in his throat before he could even open his mouth. He hoped you knew even without the words. He hoped that everything he did to try to show you how much he loved you was enough until he could finally say it. 

Every kiss he gave you meant: I love you.

Link to part 10

A/N: I hope this didn't come off as trauma dumping but I think the only way Simon would feel comfortable enough being vulnerable with someone would be to just explain what happened but also yay we're healing. Also not my best in the series but this is also the best I could do after being burnt out. I hope you guys like this

The tag list is closed!! I am so happy that so many of you want to be tagged for this story but I will not be accepting anymore requests to tag people in this series since this list has gotten long and it's hard to keep track of how many I have to add! Sorry for the inconvenience!

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[skrrts]

the bus at 11:17PM (oneshot)

✧ gn!reader x yunho ✧ genre: non-idol, slice of life, crush on a stranger ✧ word count: 1,6k

every thursday, you wait with a handsome stranger for the bus at 11:17 pm. today, you intend to finally approach him.

a/n: how to write drabbles? this was meant to be short but oh well. thank you yuyu for all those pictures

As you stepped outside of the building, your gaze went up to the night sky, and you admired how the rain clouds had vanished, the moon shining boldly, fighting the fake lights of the city.

“I guess I won’t need that one,” you said, dropping the small umbrella into your bag and stretching a little.

Taking a long language class every Thursday after work was still challenging, your lazy nature asking why you couldn’t just go home early instead of trying to learn a language you had been interested in for years.

All your attempts to teach yourself with YouTube videos had failed horribly.

“Y/N, are you sure you do not want a ride home? I really do not mind taking a detour, it’s late.”

Yeosang’s pretty face appeared next to you, leading you to look back at him.

You shook your head, smiling: “No, it’s okay. I like taking the last bus; it’s nice to ride without all the crowds I deal with every morning. And besides, I really do not live too far away, it’s just ten stops, and I will be right at my apartment complex.”

There was a small hint of worry. The two of you sat next to each other in language class, and he had been a great help, far more advanced than you were after years of failed self-study.

“Alright, get home safely. I’ll see you next week,” he bowed and waved before turning around to follow the other students to the parking lot.

You were a little surprised to learn you were the only one who did not have a car. It just didn’t feel convenient in the middle of a large city, not to mention the costs tied to it — money you’d rather invest in something you enjoyed.

Then, there was another reason. As you walked to the nearby bus station, you could feel your heartbeat increase and held your breath in anticipation as you stepped around the corner.

It was on the day of your first language class that you saw him for the first time, waiting for the same bus as you. The tall and handsome stranger looked up and flashed you a sweet smile before focusing back on his phone that day. You felt silly and shy for glancing at him the entire time, even when you reached your station and had to go.

Then, you told yourself it was fine — who didn’t do that with a stranger? But to your delight, he was there every Thursday, waiting in silence not too far from you.

His presence was comforting. The street was quiet and empty, but with him there, you felt safe. It sounded strange, considering you didn’t know anything about this man. Maybe it was his tall frame or the way he was so relaxed, giving you a feeling of security.

He was always dressed casually but still elegant, and you wondered if he worked somewhere around here, spending hours imagining what kind of job he held.

Your language class was about to end in three weeks, and you knew you were likely running out of time. If you intended to learn at least his name, you finally needed to find the bravery to approach him.

Your heart skipped a beat as you could see him standing there once again! He was looking good today too. White and black suited him so well, but this was the first time you saw him wearing glasses. Did he need them? Was it a choice of style?

Your bus always left at 11:17 PM; you had about fifteen minutes to change your life!

Fine, you just tried to hype yourself up to finally find the courage to do something.

Unlike all those other Thursdays, you decided not to sit down but instead stood quite close to him, looking casually at your watch like you actually just wanted to check the time.

While you used a backpack because it was simply more convenient, you carried one of your language books around today, hoping it would make you look just a little more interesting.

All those scenes from your favorite romance series flashed into your mind, where the protagonist just stood cutely at the station and the romantic interest would approach them just like that.

It would be ideal, but there it was again — your imagination running wild, just like when you thought how nice it would be to learn another language but didn’t manage without the help of a teacher.

You gave him a quick glance, but for some reason, the stranger was more engaged with his phone than usual.

He didn’t even give you that sweet and quick smile you had gotten used to because he always greeted you like that when you joined him, waiting for the bus in silence.

Did he ever think about that stranger who only showed up here on Thursdays? Was he maybe quietly asking himself what you were doing here so close to midnight?

Maybe it was better not to know; you would just be disappointed.

As you were lost in thought, you did not realize how your time was already up — not until the bus arrived, a little faster than usual. When it braked, the rain puddles splashed at you, covering not only your book but also your clothes.

The soft noise of surprise was followed by a hiss, and you stared at your outfit.

You intended to approach him today, so you had put more effort into your appearance, wearing some of your favorites pieces, which were now covered in dirty rainwater.

For a moment, you fought back tears, now embarrassed by how you had imagined your life turning into a silly romance movie when you should be more mature than that.

What made you think this would work?

“Are you okay?”

The voice next to you was foreign, but when you turned around, you saw the stranger looking at you with worry. The bus driver hissed to get in if you didn’t want to stay.

Your crush gave the old man a small glare before he quickly smiled at you, indicating for you to get in. After a moment, you blinked but hurried inside. The doors shut, and the bus station was slowly disappearing.

The stranger was standing beside you, pulling out a package of handkerchiefs from his bag.

“Here, it probably won’t help much with the clothes but the book.”

You stared at it, blushing.

“Oh, yes! Thank you!”

You accepted it with a slight bow and tried to clean off your book, you felt his gaze still on you. As you looked up, he offered a soft smile.

Realizing you did not answer his question yet, you said, “I am okay. It was my fault… I should not have stood so close to the street.”

But he was quick to shake his head.

“No, he drove too fast; it wasn’t your fault. He should be more mindful. Here, let’s sit.”

Your cheeks were red, and you weren’t sure if the heat was from being shy or embarrassed, but your body just acted, and the two of you settled on two of the seats.

“I have seen you a few times; I guess you visit the language school nearby? Ah, I am Yunho, nice to meet you. I believe you get out at Parkroad Station?”

You were surprised to learn that he did pay attention, not only to what kind of book you carried or that he did notice you after all, but also which station was your destination.

“Oh yes, I am almost done though; there are just two more lectures and it will wrap up. I was thinking about taking the next level entry though!”

Your words were rushed, and he chuckled.

“Learning a new language is good fun! I’d encourage it if you are enjoying yourself.”

He really was sweet, trying his best to cheer you up although you were strangers. Finally, you offered him your name and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

This wasn’t how you had imagined approaching him, but now you were just glad the two of you finally talked.

“I … noticed you too, but I admit, I was too nervous to say hi. It was nice; I felt safer waiting for the bus so late, knowing I’d not be alone,” you mumbled softly.

Yunho seemed surprised before smiling back.

“Same here. We always have a team meeting on Thursdays, but I am the only one without a car… it’s nice to know I am not alone taking the bus.”

“Oh, I feel that! Everyone at my language class takes a car except for me.”

The two of you laughed, but you realized your station was coming up soon.

Yunho looked at you before opening his bag again and pulling out his business card. You weren’t surprised to see he was head of his department — he really seemed to be kind and smart.

“It’s late, and you should get home, dry up, but maybe … we could meet for a coffee? You could tell me more about your lessons and how you like the school. I was thinking about studying a new language myself.”

You carefully put it between the pages of the book.

“I will make sure to text you my number once I am home… and I’d love that. I’m off on weekends, whenever you are available.”

“Same here. I will call you tomorrow?”

The two of you looked at each other with a smile before your station was announced, and you pushed yourself up.

“I am looking forward to it,” you bowed, and this time, you were quite sure to see how his ears were just a little red.

As you stepped outside of the bus and turned around, Yunho had moved over to a window seat; he was waving to you until you were no longer in sight.

“Wait… is that a date?!”

[moonlightisdancing]

Here, Kitty, Kitty/ d.r.w

Pairing: Danny Wagner x f!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: NSFW MINORS DNI 18+ sugar daddy danny, jealousy, sir/daddy kink, degradation kink, pet names (literally), oral sex (m!receiving), teasing, unprotected sex (p+v), cock warming, praise, begging, orgasm denial, squirting, breeding

as always please lmk if any warnings are missed!

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The tighter money got, the slimmer your choices did, too. Two jobs could barely pay your bills, but a third wouldn’t fit into the schedule. You’d resorted to selling pictures to people you would quick add on SnapChat. That went well for about a month before the handful of men you relied on for income suddenly couldn’t afford to pay for content. Just as the stress had been alleviated, it returned. That was until you gave in fully and began looking into sugar daddy websites. At this rate you felt you had nothing left to lose, what was a little sex with a creepy old man?

Much to your liking, you found someone much better than a guy old enough to be your grandfather. This one was twenty-five with the build of a Greek god. His profile consisted of a singular photo, one you were sure couldn’t have been his own. You’d began chatting with him and it wasn’t long before he requested an in person meet up. Again, you had nothing left to lose, safety didn’t matter when there was money on the line. He requested to see you on Wednesday, to which you denied due to being scheduled at both jobs.

Danny W. : I’ll pay you what both jobs would if you see me instead

You: Tips and all?

Danny W. : I’ll make it worth your while

From there on out you’d start seeing him every Wednesday at six o’clock sharp. He insisted on picking you up every week, rolling down the street of your slum apartment in his very new black Corvette adorned with tinted windows and red rims. The sex was like no other, not to mention the amount of money he paid you simply for your time. But over the course of two months you found yourself slowly falling for your sugar daddy. He wouldn’t let you leave until you came, more so for his pride than your pleasure, and with that knowledge you’d edge yourself just to spend more time with him. Each week when he took you home, you simply passed time until it was Wednesday again.

What was supposed to be a temporary income, just enough until you got on your feet, became a long term thing simply to keep Danny in company. But you didn’t want NDA’s and Wednesday nights to be your life with him anymore. It started to seem that way from his end, too, when he started casually texting you more than on Tuesday’s to solidify plans. Thursday mornings he would text or call to make sure you were okay after the prior night’s events. Some mornings you woke up to flowers being delivered, even things you needed more so than things he wanted to see you in. It wasn’t a secret he was behind the new couch, especially since he paid to have your car fixed. You liked him taking care of you, but you wanted more from him than an allowance. You wanted to come home every night to him, to call him whenever you wanted, to love him.

While you were patiently waiting for an appropriate time to express your feelings to Danny, you knew there was no shot with him. He’s a rockstar, hence the NDA’s, why would he settle for someone like you? You’d go to pass the time at bars and clubs, shamelessly flirting with men and women for free drinks, even giving head a few times for whatever they’d give you in return. You weren’t particularly proud of it, but you weren’t ashamed either.

Wednesday rolled around again, Danny arrived an hour earlier than the set schedule you’d been following for months now. He called you while you were in the middle of curling your hair, you quickly finished the piece you were working on before answering.

“Hey, can you let me in?” His warm, sultry voice melted you.

“Yes, sir.” You waited for him to hang up, but he stayed on the other end until he heard the locks coming undone. You wrapped your fingers around the knob and slowly opened the door, Danny shoving his foot between the door and frame. He pushed his way into your house, his eyes dark and angry as if he knew something.

“You’re early… I was-”

“Why were you at the club on Saturday?” He pressed himself against you until your back was flush against the wall, his washboard abs firm against your torso. You looked up at him before looking past in attempts to ignore the question, but he wouldn’t let that slide. “Tell me the truth, kitten, or you can kiss your two grand down the drain.”

He’s never threatened to not pay you before. He always left ample opportunity to make more money by doing specific things to or for him, or vice versa, but never the chance to lose any. Deciding the money didn’t necessarily matter, you chose to toy with him. Press his buttons.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You say pointedly, batting your eyelashes at him with a pout.

“Eighteen. Wanna try again?” He managed to get closer, your lungs craving air as he applied pressure against your body with his.

“Danny, I don’t-”

“Sixteen. Tell me, did he kiss you like I do?” Closer.

“Maybe even better.” You could feel his blood boiling under his skin. He was jealous.

“Is that so?” He scoffed, pulling away entirely from you. “That mouth would be prettier with my cock in it since all you’re doing is spewing bullshit anyways.”

You watched as Danny made his way to your couch, sitting directly in the middle with his legs spread. His hands slid down the front of his body, trailing down to toy with his zipper and button without ever undoing them.

“C’mere, Kitty girl. If you put that filthy mouth of yours to good use you can go back up to eighteen.”

You nod and make your way before him, lowering yourself onto your knees between his legs. You slide your hands up either of his legs slowly until your nimble fingers make contact with his button and zipper. Carefully undoing his pants, you dipped your hands past the waistband of his briefs before exposing his length to the air.

As quick as your lips wrap around the pillowy head of his cock, Danny’s hand finds a home nestled in your hair. His free hand cupped the bottom of your jaw, guiding your tongue and lips over his shaft. Your head bobbed as you slowly fed more of Danny’s cock down your throat. When your nose was flush against the dusting of hair at the base, he held you there, only removing you when you gagged from the pure size. With his hand nestled in your hair, and tears in your eyes, he pulls you off his length. Only strings of saliva connected you to his cock. Heat grew between your legs the harder he fisted your hair, a whine escaping your lips. You really did sound like a kitten, it’s no wonder he’d bestowed such a nickname upon you. Danny tugged your hair until he brought you to your feet, bringing your lips to his. A stream of air blew from his lips, cooling the saliva that coated your mouth. Hungry for his touch, you tried leaning in to kiss him.

“Look at you begging for forgiveness like a dog. Maybe Kitty doesn’t suit you anymore.” Anyone else speaking to you this way would shatter your ego, but somehow his harsh words were still laced with lust. He tugs your head away from him before letting go of your hair, your cheeks flaming a bright red.

Danny sat up before placing his hands on the exposed skin of your thighs, walking his fingers up the expanse of your skin until he reached your hips. His fingers traced over your bones expecting a waistband of some sort had you bothered to put any on. When he’d realized there were no panties adorning your hips, he opted to press the pads of his fingers into your skin instead. A single ‘fuck’ was uttered as he rutted his hips up into nothing. You knew better than to make a comment about his desperation, but a smile still crept across your face knowing he wanted you. Danny’s face quickly grew annoyed once he caught on to the look you wore.

“Do you like pissing me off, Kitty girl?” He gritted, his grasp growing slightly tighter.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.”

“No? Maybe I need to show you.” Danny spun your body around so your back was facing him, his hands pushing your tiny dress up over your hips. He was quick to break contact again, leaving only the sensation of his fingers behind as he let go of your hips. He hummed at the sight of you, surely your slick coated thighs visible.

“Look at you already fuckin’ soaked, kitten. Want me to fuck you that bad?”

“Yes, sir.” You desperately mewled.

“Show me you deserve it then. Spread it open for daddy.”

You bent at the hips, reaching your hands back to seperate your ass cheeks, exposing your soaked cunt for him to see. His hands found your hips again as he guided you towards him until the back of your legs met his shins. Danny runs two fingers between your folds before hovering over your entrance, never giving you the pleasure of dipping them in.

“Good girl… Now sit back on it.”

You lower yourself onto his lap, fully taking his length in your aching core. Danny wraps his palms around your wrists, bringing them to your back before pinning both down with one of his hands. His free hand wrapped around you, laying flat on your stomach under the bunched up fabric of your dress. He fucked up into you quick and hard until your began to give out. At that point he pulled you down on his length, allowing you to sit on his lap. The head of his cock brushed your cervix as you swirl your hips, squeezing your knees together for friction against your clit.

“Turn around, wanna see you.” He nudged his hips up, groaning when you lifted off of him. You straddled his thighs, hovering your entrance over his leaking tip. It didn’t take long before lowering yourself, teasing him wasn’t worth whatever punishment he’d throw your way. Eager to feel his lips against yours, you leaned in again hoping he’d satisfy your craving. His lips crashed into yours like the ocean’s wave against the shoreline. Burying your hands deep in his curly, brunette locks, you tugged gently. Danny stifled a whimper, careful not to let you think he’d slip up easily.

“Feel so good, daddy.” You moaned into his neck, gently sucking on his skin enough to make him whine but not leave marks.

“Yeah? Like when I fuck your whore pussy?”

You moaned, his pace growing quicker as you grew tighter around him. He knew you were close and he was, too. The feeling washing over you was stronger than before like no other orgasm you’d felt.

“Sir, can I cum?” You needed to, and you knew what his answer would be.

“Not yet, hold on for daddy. M’so close, baby.”

The faster his hips snapped into yours, the tighter the band in your stomach became. His pace wasn’t letting up. What felt like an eternity, but was truly a few minutes, passed before his hips started to falter.

“Go ahead Kitty, you’ll clean up whatever mess you make with that mouth of yours.”

Your orgasm finally came, your senses completely overtaken by your pleasure. So much so you hadn’t noticed a newfound fluid covering Danny’s thighs. You’d squirted all over him, soaking his pants and shirt with your arousal. Danny’s release was quick to follow as he buried himself to the hilt, his warm seed spilling into your throbbing cunt.

“Thank you, sir.” You cried, your body shaking as you came down from your orgasm.

“Such a good girl, Kitty, you take me so well.”

“Fuck, Y/n…” He sighed and wrapped his arms around your torso, pulling you into his chest in a hug. This was the first time he’d used your name since he met you. He’d call you Kitty and kitten so much they truly started to feel like your name, but something about the syllables of the name you’d had your whole life rolling off his tongue nearly brought you to tears. There was a sense of domestication to it all. Your real name, the kissing, him holding you.

“Yes?” You barely whispered, trying to hold back your emotions over the simple formality of your name.

“Keep fucking me this good, I’ll have to promote you.”

[watermelonlovershigh]

Not So Patient After All {part. 13} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

"You've been a real, bad, boy." {part. 12} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

AN: i know, i know. full subrry will appear in the next chapter, i promise. after chapter 12 i thought this part would have him in it but then i came up with this idea and instead of making it too long, decided to make it 2 separate chapters. i hope you still enjoy!!!

This story contains: female masturbation w/ toy, sending nudes, sex, mild dirty talk, ass slapping, use of butt plugs, more sex

{ housemate!harry - boyfriendrry - soft!harry - teacher!harry - subrry }

word count- 2,628

You get impatient after your sex toys arrive and one day while Harry's at work, decide to use one and send him a naughty photo in the process. This leads him to pretend he's mad at you and two rounds of sex, one of which only happens because he gets hard again after you request that he wears one of his new butt plugs.

"Harry, Harry, Harry!" you call out your boyfriends name repeatedly as you move through the house carrying multiple packages. The toys you purchased a week ago have finally been delivered, and you are beaming with excitement. Bursting into your bedroom, you find Harry still asleep under your covers. Unable to contain your joy, you leap onto the bed, causing the boxes to tumble across the mattress, and playfully pounce on his sleeping body.

Harry's quick to pull the blankets over his head and groans in a raspy voice. "Mhm, what? What'd you want? M' sleepin'."

Rolling off his body, you explain, "Our toys came, Harry."

He reluctantly pulls the covers off his head and does a morning stretch, before fully waking up and becoming alert. Harry opens his eyes and glances around the bed, noticing you sitting beside him, with several small boxes scattered at the foot of the bed. "That's nice, but could you come give me a cuddle, please?"

You rush down and slip under the blankets on your bed, snuggling against Harry's warm body. Quietly, you ask, "Aren't you looking forward to our new toys?" Now you feel a little self-conscious about how happy you were when you discovered your deliveries had arrived.

"Baby, m'very happy. S'just, it's a Wednesday. I have work today. We can't use them until we have more time."

"Oh," you say disappointedly, not having thought of that.

Harry senses your disappointment and suggests a plan. He offers, "Tell you what, when Friday rolls around, I'll let you try out some of the toys on me. I know I'm due for my punishment, baby. You can wreck me and then Saturday I'll have time to stay home and recover since I don't work weekends"

Agreeing, you nod. "Okay, sounds like a plan. Sorry I got so excited. Just can't wait to use my new strap-on on you."

"No apologizing, m'love. It's okay you got excited. M' excited too, but we have to be patient."

After cuddling for a few more minutes, you sit up and proceed to open each box to simply glance inside and see what each item looks like. The excitement of seeing your new toys increases your happiness, but you must keep in mind that you need to be patient, or as patient as possible.

Then realizing the time, Harry scrambles out of bed to get ready for work before he's late.

-------------------------------

Your patience persisted from Wednesday all the way through Thursday morning. Yet, as noon approached on Thursday, you were suddenly consumed by a powerful feeling of horniness. With Harry still at work and unable to offer any assistance, you tried hard to ignore the throbbing sensation between your legs. However, you became so wet that you had no choice but to change your panties, as they had become drenched from your heightened state of arousal.

When your second pair of panties get damp, you'd had enough and get up to go try your new rose vibrator. You feel guilty since Harry isn't here but technically there was never a rule that you couldn't masturbate when he wasn't home. Even if there was, you'd still secretly do it if you needed to bad enough.

After laying a towel on the bed, you undress and settle into a comfortable position. Taking hold of your new rose vibrator, you direct it towards your clit. While the rose was new to you, you were no stranger to suction toys. The moment you switch on the rose toy and place it in the right spot, you nearly jump off the bed due to your sensitivity.

Unlike the rest of your suction vibrators, this one provides a sensation similar to when a human sucks on the clit. While laying on the bed, you hold the rose vibrator against your clitoris, feeling your breath quicken and your wetness increase. In less than two minutes, you're already on the verge of orgasm. But before reaching that peak, you decide to turn off the toy for a second and engage in a bit of teasing with Harry.

You grab your phone and open the camera. In one hand you place your rose back on your clit and your other hand holds your phone. You snap a few photos and quickly send the best looking one to Harry before laying your phone down and getting back to business. Right as you're about to actually come, your phone dings beside you.

Opening your messages, you read Harry's reply and smile evilly.

Harry- Y/n, I'm working!!! You can't be sending me photos like that when I'm at work. Do you know how weird it'd be if I got hard in front of 10 and 11 year olds??? They'd be trying to send me to JAIL!!!

You- oops 🤪

After sending off your response, you complete your task at hand. With all the edging you've done in the past hour, you quickly climax upon switching the vibrator back on. A wave of relief washes over you as the pent-up sexual energy is released. Now feeling tired, you quickly clean yourself up and crawl under your blankets naked, drifting off for a short nap.

-------------------------------

Harry comes home to a quiet house. He knows you're home because your car is out front. So he does some searching and finds you asleep in your bed. At first glance you look normal, but shortly after making his way over to you, he realises you're naked under your duvet. Probably from not having the energy to get dressed after masturbating earlier.

He wants to be mad that you touched yourself without him being here, but can't. The one thing he's never cared about is his partners pleasuring themselves while he's gone. As long as they think about him while doing it, he's all for self pleasure. But, to be cheeky and mess with you a bit, he'll pretend like he's mad at your actions.

You feel a tap on your shoulder and slowly open your eyes, seeing Harry standing over you. You do a big stretch, your breasts popping out of the covers, and relax back into the mattress. Making grabby hands, you whine, "Come cuddle with meeee."

He shakes his head in disagreeance. "Nope, you decided to touch yourself while I was at work, meanin' you obviously don't need me, so.... m' gonna go shower, along. You've been a very bad girl, Y/n."

You observe Harry leaving your room without looking back, and suddenly feel a wave of sadness. His intentions are unclear to you. So in order to avoid possibly upsetting him further, you opt to remain in bed for a few more minutes until your stomach rumbles, prompting you to rise and head to the kitchen where you'll begin preparing dinner. However, you make sure to put some clothes on first.

As Harry was taking a shower, he had a feeling that you might come and try to join him. He was actually hoping that you would defy his request and still shower with him. But, when you didn't show up, he realizes that you must have taken his words seriously.

After he's finished showering, he follows the aroma of food being prepared in the kitchen and discovers you chopping vegetables on the kitchen island. You gaze up at Harry with a deep frown as he enters the kitchen and whisper, "Are you genuinely bothered that I touched myself? You've never mentioned having that rule. Just so you know though, I was thinking of you while doing it. And I didn't watch any porn."

Harry walks over to you from behind and wraps his arms around you, letting you catch a whiff of his fruity shampoo and vanilla body wash. "Baby, I was just kiddin'. M' not really mad that you masturbated. I don't care if you touched yourself, we all do it from time to time. As long as I know you were thinkin' of me and I wasn't around, m' fine with it. Now, if I was around and you purposefully didn't ask me to help, I'd be a little hurt, but...".

Breathing a sigh of relief, you reply, "Oh, thank God. Because even if you had that rule, I'd still touch myself if you weren't home and I was horny enough."

"Hey," Harry shouts playfully, unwrapping his arms from around you, "now I might make it a rule, just because you said that."

"Whatever."

-------------------------------

Later that night after everything else is done, you both end up in Harry's bed having sex. It's neither aggressive nor extremely gentle, just your standard, basic sex. Nonetheless, it is satisfying. It starts out with you on top, riding Harry, but then you express fatigue and he carefully lays you down and takes charge.

"Poor baby, too tired to ride m'cock." he mocks while thrusting into you at a constant speed.

You playfully slap his ass and Harry nearly topples over you, moaning super loud. You didn't realise a barely hard slap would have such effects on him. "Oh you liked that, didn't you, hm?"

He nods his head where it rests against your collarbone and answers, "Yes, do it again, please." You rear back your hand and slap his ass cheek harder this time, loving to watch his white flesh jiggle and turn red. "Oh fuck, m' gonna come." Before he allows himself to come though, he slips his hand between your bodies and starts aggressively rubbing your clit against his fingers.

"Ahh, Harry!!!" you cry out, your back arching as you come all over his cock and fingers. He continues his stimulation until you literally start crying from overstimulation. Harry removes his fingers from your sensitive clit but continues thrusting as he finally allows himself to let go and orgasm. His thrusts become weak and uncoordinated as he ejaculates deep inside you.

Once his orgasm diminishes, Harry's heavy body plops down on top of you, almost knocking the wind from your lungs. You both lay there in post-orgasm bliss until you have an idea. When buying your toys on Amazon a few days ago, Harry mentioned how he can sleep with the black silicone butt plug due to its flexibility. And tomorrow you will be fucking his ass. So what if he sleeps with it tonight to make sure he's nice and stretched for you tomorrow. You'd hate to hurt him in anyway.

"Harry?" you say, breaking the rooms silence.

Still breathing rather heavy with his head resting on your chest, he answers, "Yeah, baby?"

"Do you think you could sleep with that silicone butt plug in tonight? You know, because of what's gonna happen tomorrow, I want you to be well stretched so I don't hurt you. And..... I've never seen anyone wear one so I'm kinda curious as to what they look like inside someone."

Your question causes Harry to sit upright. Despite his belief that he doesn't need any actual stretching beforehand, it has been quite some time since he last had anything up his ass, and he would prefer to take precautions. Additionally, the fact that you've never observed someone using and wearing a butt plug serves as extra motivation for him to demonstrate the process.

"Of course, but um, let me just, you know, go to the bathroom and ensure that m' finished using it for the night and that m' completely clean down there. Then I'll come back and you can either assist with the insertion or observe me doin' it."

You nod eagerly as Harry gets up from the bed naked and goes to the bathroom. He remembers a previous incident involving a butt plug and a need to use the toilet, so he makes sure he doesn't have to go to the bathroom in order to prevent a recurrence. After checking his hygiene, he goes back to the bedroom where you have the butt plug and lube set out.

As Harry walks up to the bed, soft cock slightly swinging between his legs, you ask, "Can you do it and I just watch. I'm kinda nervous."

"Sure baby, but nothin' to be nervous about. It's just me, and I'd tell you if you were hurtin' me in anyway. But I can do it and you watch." He climbs onto the bed, still naked from your previous activities, and tries to decide what position he'd prefer to be in, on his knees or layed back with his legs up. He ultimately decides to lay on his back.

Harry settles into position, arranging pillows behind his back against the headboard and spreads his legs. Anxiously, you pass him the lube and butt plug, watching intently as he begins. Despite your initial desire for him to wear it and the upcoming anal sex, you find yourself feeling nervous. Excited, yet nervous. You've never gave anal to anyone before. Mostly because all the men you've been with in the past were too straight and thought negatively on the act.

With the bottle of lube in hand, Harry applies a liberal amount to the bulbous tip of the butt plug using his fingers, followed by wiping any excess off around his tight hole. You adjust your position to sit facing him, allowing you to witness the entire process. You observed how he delicately moves his flaccid cock out of the way and how he carefully goes to insert the lubricated plug into his slick opening. Just before Harry pushes it in, he looks up at you with a soft yet mischievous grin.

He has always harbored a hidden desire for either observing someone engage in self-touch or being observed while engaging in self-touch. Although not solely for pleasure, the act remains deeply intimate, and your observation right now nearly reignites his arousal.

With a deep breath, he relaxes his muscles and slowly starts to insert the butt plug into his ass. The lubricant prevents any pain during the process, despite the stretching sensation. You watch as his anus takes in the butt plug effortlessly, except for the heart-shaped diamond on the end, which sets nicely against his hole. Looking up at Harry's face, you see a slight scrunch, not from pain, but from relief.

"Mhm, fuck, that felt good." Harry annonces, his muscles turning to mush on the bed now that he's finished inserting the butt plug. You smile at him widely, about to speak when he suddenly grunts in what sounds like frustration. "No," he whines, "m' hard again. Too sensitive to be hard again."

Glancing down, you see his flaccid cock no longer flaccid, but half hard. The process of inserting the butt plug in his ass combine with you watching him, it turned him on again.

You let out a giggle and propose, "We could have sex again? Just slower this time. Get all comfy under the covers, turn the lights out, and when we finish, fall asleep naked. Hm?"

Though Harry knows it'll be slightly painful at first from how sensitive his dick is from his previous orgasm, he agrees with a nod. You climb out of bed to turn the lights off, then crawl back under the covers so your plan can unravel.

-------------------------------

Thirty very sweaty minutes later, you're both knocked out cold in each others arms. Two rounds of sex was almost too much for one night. Not to mention that last round of sex was extremely pleasurable for Harry since he had a butt plug in. Wearing a butt plug during sex always felt super good in his opinion. It stimulated his prostate while giving him that full feeling he longed for sometimes.

Now you just wait until tomorrow night where the pleasure will be upped ten-folds when you fuck him with your new pretty pink strap-on.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(if you want to be apart of my new tag list, let me know right here !! )

tag list: @swiftmendeshoran // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @hsonlyangelxo

______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

Long Awaited Punishment {part. 14}

[imaginesforeons]

Can we get some more stuff with your yandere! nanami? it could be anything like even your headcanons about how he treats his darling ! I really like the way you write him!

Yes!! Any excuse to write my man. I hope this is ok, and if you want more, feel free to ask.

Not Your Room (Yandere!Nanami x Reader)

~You wake up somewhere completely foreign to you~

CW: Past kidnapping. Yandere Nanami. Vomiting but that's because reader is dizzy.

Word Count: 1,178

Reqs are OPEN! At the top of my page you can see what fandoms I write for, so DM me with your ideas!

Buy me a coffee?

.-.-.

You woke up in a bed that was not your own.

The first thing you’re aware of is a weight across your legs, then a warmth around your body, and, finally, the plush sensation of sheets and pillows cradling you. It was almost enough to drag you back down to the impossibly deep sleep you fought your way out of. Almost, but not quite, because this was not your bed.

You took a moment to breathe, bracing yourself before opening your eyes, only to wish you’d kept them shut.

You weren’t in your bed, and you were definitely not in your room. All of it was completely foreign, so unlike your own home that you might as well have stepped into a separate country for how unfamiliar everything was. The room was dimmed with only one lamp on, but you could see off-white walls and beige curtains, no colorful accents but for the single blue throw draped over a chair in a corner. It was like the owner had never dared impress any of their own personality into the room, and you had woken up in an interior design catologue. 

Could you be hospitalized? If you were, wherever they had put you was surely thousands of dollars out of your budget. It was bland, yes, but just from a single glance you could tell that everything was top quality.

You forced your body to sit up with a grunt, limbs oddly heavy, casting your eyes around the room, searching for your things, only to pause. Beside a door was a pair of shoes; a pair of men’s shoes. If you were in a hospital, it would make no sense for a man to leave his shoes in your room, not if they were a doctor or visitor. You swallowed, and this time looked around the room with new eyes. Other than the shoes, you saw a bedside table with a book resting on the top, a suitcase set on the chair that held the blue afgan, and opposite from you bed was a door cracked open just enough for you to see a bathroom rug.

You weren’t in a hospital, you were in someone’s house. You stiffened, and you found yourself fisting your hands into the white sheets beneath you.

Your panic was cut off when you heard the creak of a doorknob turning. Jerking, you slid from the bed to stand and hide from whoever was coming, but instead you nearly crumpled to the ground. A sudden dizziness overtook you, black speckled at the corners of your vision, and a rushing pounded through your ears, deafening and clouding everything around you.

“-sy. Take deep breaths.” A voice, also male, broke through to you, and you felt calloused hands guide you back to the bed.

“Where-” You paused, rubbing your temples, a headache building up in your skull. “Where am I?”

You glanced up and gasped. Brown eyes behind wire glasses, blond hair professionally slicked back, a sharp face; you knew this man. Every Thursday, you’d go to a bakery a block from your house, treating yourself to something sweet. Exactly at eight in the morning, the man in front of you would walk in, buy the same thing every time, then leave. Never had the two of you shared words, or smiles, or anything more than a quick glance. What was he doing here?

“Stay calm,” your bakery aquiantance said as he guided your head back to the pillows. “You’ve been through a trauma.”

“A trauma?” you muttered. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t give you all the details yet. For now, just focus on relaxing.”

You found yourself lying back in bed, staring at the ceiling, mind trying to process what was being said yet falling oddly flat.

Suddenly, your vision was obscured as he reached for your face, and you didn't have any time to flinch back before his hands grabbed your head. Big was the only word that came to mind, before fingers were gently massaging at your scalp.

That felt nice. Your eyes started to droop, and you felt yourself sinking into that strange fog you had just struggled from. You were nearly asleep, gentle, strong fingers massaging your neck, when a thread of anxiety worked its way through you.

“My parents!” you exclaimed, sitting back up again. “I have to call them! Where’s my phone?”

The blond man sat back, dropping his hands from your face. “I’m afraid you can’t do that.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, then winced. Your head was hurting again.

“I mean you can’t have your cellphone or any other electronics without my supervision.” He put his hand on your sternum, urging you back, but you pushed him away.

You thrashed, throwing off your blankets. “What the fack does that mean?” you snapped, swinging your feet over the bed. “Where’s my phone? Where’s the rest of my shit?”

“Easy,” he soothed. “Too much movement might make you dizzy. I’m not sure how you’ll react with the drugs.” 

You felt an icy cold work its way down your back.

“You drugged me?” you hissed. Now that he’d admitted to it, you did feel heavy, dizzy in a way that not even alcohol could accomplish. Even the anger you felt towards the man for what he didn’t was only there for a moment before guttering out, like a weak flame fed with damp wood.

“With propofol, yes. It’s a common anesthetic used in hospitals and other healthcare settings.”

You had to get out of here. You had to run. Stomach churning, you rolled to the opposite end of the bed, away from him, falling to the ground with a thump. You whimpered, clutching at your head. It felt like you were drowning in cotton.

Arms wrapped around you, lifting you into their hold effortlessly. A horrible vertigo washed over you, and you gripped the man’s shirt collar in front of you to at least try to stay in control.

“‘m gonna puke,” you mumbled. And then you did. All over the plush carpet.

You could feel a sigh travel through the man’s body as he stepped carefully over your mess, carrying you towards the bathroom.

“If you felt sick you should have told me earlier,” he said. It made you feel like you were being scolded.

“If you hadn’t drugged me I wouldn’t be sick,” you snapped, before being set on a toilet seat. “I have bad reactions to propofol. It makes me nauseated.”

It was hard to be angry at him. It was hard to be anything; it felt like you had an empty hole in your chest, swallowing up every emotion you tried to muster. It was the propofol, surely. A garbage can was settled between your feet before a cool hand, strong and steady, massaged the delicate nape of your neck.

You stared into the empty can, and tried to cherish the feeling. As soon as the drugs wore off and you got your lucidity back, things would be infinitely worse. Soon, everything would be real.