#bathroom cleaners near me

[finroxtechnology]

WHY YOU SHOULD HIRE A BATHROOM CLEANING SERVICE DELHI

With the expanding population and diverse cultures in the metropolis of Delhi, maintaining a clean and hygienic bathroom is paramount. However, with various responsibilities and schedules, it is very tough to take out the energy and time to do a good cleaning for your bathroom. This is where the bathroom cleaning services Delhi come to the rescue. In this blog, we will understand this service and its benefits. 

IMPORTANCE OF A BATHROOM CLEANING SERVICE IN DELHI

Pollution: Delhi is one of the most polluted cities in the world, and it is also known for its very bad air quality that has dust and pollutants in it. These dust and pollutants can easily accumulate in your bathrooms and create an unhygienic and thriving place for the germs to grow. 

Time: life in Delhi can be very challenging and this leads to people having very little to no time for the normal household chores.

Population density: Delhi is one of the states with the most population density, and with more people comes greater strain on public restrooms and a  greater chance of contamination. So, a bathroom cleaning service in Delhi can ensure your essential cleaning and hygiene. 

ADVANTAGES OF BATHROOM CLEANING SERVICES IN DELHI

Saves time and energy: in a place like Delhi, where you are surrounded by a fast-paced life full of responsibilities, saving even a small amount of time can help you a lot. Bathroom cleaning services in Delhi can contribute to that, these services take care of making your bathroom clean and safe so that you save some time and energy that could be used to rest or do some other work.

Hygiene: a regular bathroom cleaning could potentially make it clean but will it make it safe? The germs and bacteria still roam around unbeknownst to the naked eye. However, a bathroom cleaning service in Delhi follows various steps to clean and disinfect the place ensuring that the bathroom is not only clean and bright to look at but also safe from various other germs and microorganisms that could potentially cause harm to you and your family members. Hence, a bathroom cleaning service also protects your family and yourself from falling ill with various diseases. 

Expertise and solutions: Bathroom cleaning services in Delhi have professionals who are trained for specific work and have immense expertise in the field of bathroom cleaning services. Their knowledge and years of experience allow them to assess the situation and suggest what is best for your bathroom. 

Professional equipment: why is it hard to match the results of a professional bathroom cleaning service in Delhi? Well, the answer lies in the equipment they use, which is specially designed for the work. 

WHICH IS THE BEST BATHROOM CLEANER SERVICES DELHI?

The market of cleaning service in Delhi is quite large and with so many companies in the market but the one that stands out the most is FINROX, a pioneer in the cleaning service industry and providing various services at very affordable prices. 

CONCLUSION

Staying safe in Delhi is a tough task and a bathroom cleaning service Delhi is what helps keep you and your family safe by creating an environment free from germs while providing you with an alluring sight of your bathroom. And FINROX, a pioneer in the cleaning service, is willing to help you create that environment. 

[famousfestninja]

Fast and Reliable Plumbing Fixes for a Leak-Free Bathroom

Few things are as essential to maintaining a functional home as a leak-free bathroom. From unexpected drips to full-blown leaks, bathroom plumbing issues can quickly escalate into costly and stressful problems if left unaddressed. That’s why fast and reliable plumbing fixes are key to ensuring long-lasting results and, more importantly, peace of mind.

In this blog, we’ll explore the most common plumbing issues that can arise in your bathroom and why quick, professional solutions are necessary to prevent further damage.

The Usual Suspects: Common Bathroom Plumbing Issues

Before diving into solutions, it’s essential to understand what could go wrong with your bathroom plumbing. Here are some of the most frequent issues homeowners encounter:

Leaky Faucets: A persistent drip may seem minor, but it can waste gallons of water over time and significantly increase your water bill.

Clogged Drains: Whether it’s hair, soap scum, or foreign objects, clogged drains are a frustrating problem that can lead to standing water and unpleasant odors.

Running Toilets: This issue is common but needs to be addressed. A running toilet can waste gallons of water daily, leading to a hefty bill and potential water damage.

Low Water Pressure: Weak water flow can make simple tasks like washing hands or showering tedious. It’s usually a sign of a more significant issue, such as a pipe blockage or leak.

Although each of these problems may seem small, when left unchecked, they can cause more serious damage, requiring costly repairs.

Why Fast and Reliable Plumbing Matters

Quick action is crucial in addressing these issues before they spiral out of control. A trusted plumbing service will assess the situation, identify the underlying cause, and provide timely fixes that prevent further complications. It is where bathroom plumbing services come into play, ensuring all repairs are done swiftly and effectively.

Plumbing professionals are equipped with the right tools and expertise to provide long-lasting solutions. They fix the immediate problem and identify potential risks that could lead to future leaks or other plumbing concerns. For instance, if you’ve been dealing with frequent clogs, a professional might find that there’s a deeper issue with the central drainage system, requiring a more thorough repair.

Expert Solutions for Lasting Results

When it comes to achieving a leak-free bathroom, it's not just about fixing the symptoms—it’s about getting to the root of the problem. Here’s how professional plumbing services ensure lasting solutions:

Comprehensive Diagnostics: Experienced plumbers conduct a full assessment of your plumbing system, using advanced tools like video inspection to identify leaks, clogs, and other hidden problems.

Quality Repairs: Professional plumbers use durable materials that meet industry standards to replace faulty fixtures and repair broken pipes. It ensures your bathroom remains leak-free for years to come.

Preventative Maintenance: Regular check-ups from plumbing experts can help catch minor issues before they become major headaches. Services like drain cleaning, pipe inspections, and water pressure tests can save you time and money down the road.

DIY vs. Professional Help

While some homeowners may feel comfortable tackling minor plumbing issues, like a clogged sink, it’s always best to call the experts for more serious repairs. Professionals have the proper tools and knowledge, and they can also provide a guarantee on their work—offering peace of mind that DIY fixes simply can’t match.

Moreover, if a DIY repair goes wrong, it could cause more damage, leading to higher repair costs in the long run.

The Benefits of Working with Trusted Professionals

Opting for bathroom plumbing services ensures that your home is in capable hands. These services offer:

Prompt Response Times: Plumbing emergencies can’t wait. Reliable professionals provide quick responses to prevent further damage.

Licensed and Insured Work: Professional plumbers are licensed, ensuring they adhere to local codes and regulations and protect you from liability.

Long-Term Solutions: Instead of temporary fixes, plumbing experts provide solutions that last, saving you money on future repairs.

Conclusion: Enjoy a Leak-Free Bathroom

Whether dealing with a leaky faucet or a more complex issue like a clogged drain or running toilet, fast and reliable plumbing services are crucial for maintaining a leak-free bathroom. Don’t wait until minor problems become costly disasters—trust experienced professionals to provide the quick fixes you need for lasting results. Investing in professional bathroom plumbing services will save time and money and ensure your bathroom remains functional and efficient for years to come. With experts by your side, you can enjoy peace of mind knowing that every leak, clog, and plumbing issue is resolved quickly and effectively.

[sweet-as-kiwis]

I feel like I should be making a list of all the violations I’m seeing at work

[gh-0-stcup]

Okay, how ridiculous are the comments on food shorts on FB? Literally any time a girl with false nails is making something, half the comments are about how gross she is. For...making food with long nails???

Or the people who tell girls (even without false nails) to wear gloves when they're cooking. If they don't they're disgusting and nobody should ever eat their food. Literal 🤮emojis.

Who in the actual fuck wears gloves to cook at home? How do they think women with false nails eat or feed their families? Gloves and short, polish-free nails are only necessary if you're working in a commercial/industrial environment. Because you're exposed to a wide variety of germs, you're preparing food for a longer period of time, there's a much greater risk of cross contamination and you don't want to endanger the public.

Are there actual people these days who legit put on gloves to cook for themselves in their own homes???

[ddejavvu]

Jake seresin doing that bathroom door thing to a sweet shy reader would be so cute😭😭

that bathroom door thing - i changed it up just a bit for the plot's sake! i hope you still enjoy it <3

--

Jake's forever grateful that Penny bought the Hard Deck, because it brought about changes that have only ever benefitted him. She's begrudgingly fond of him, so he drinks whenever he wants and pays his tab in grunt muscle when new shipments of booze are delivered and need to be hauled in. He also drives Amelia around to various after school activities, so Penny's rewarded him with his own personal set of keys in case she's waiting for pickup in the bar and can't lock up behind herself.

The bar is cleaner now than it was under previous management, which means more women are willing to set foot inside; something about the earlier gunk and grime drove them away. It's no longer a place for aviators to drink their sorrows away- it's fun, it's full, and it's family, something Jake cherishes more than he'll ever admit.

Those keys feel especially important in his pocket now as he watches you try the handle of the bathroom door, clearly in a rush. Jake's surprised that the bathroom isn't constantly occupied, what with the amount of liquor that gets consumed on a nightly basis, but some people might just be better at regulating themselves than others.

Apparently you're not one of them as you find the door locked, your face contorting into clear displeasure.

You scan the bar for Penny but- Jake realizes with a jolt down his spine, she's not here. She'd stepped out, and he'd been casually monitoring the counter to ensure that no one started touching anything that didn't belong to them.

"Coyote," Jake calls, catching his friend's attention from where he's crouched over the pool table, "Cover for Penny."

Usually the team would be annoyed at being interrupted, but Coyote is just as fond of Penny as Jake is, and he nods once, passing his cue over to Rooster. He takes up a seat opposite Jake, giving the man the chance to stand and make his way over to you.

"Hey there, darlin'," He greets, digging the keys out of his pocket, "You need'a get in there?"

"Uh, yeah, I do," You laugh sheepishly, watching intently as he slides the key into the door, "Oh my god, thank you, I couldn't find the bartender and I thought I was shit outta luck."

"I gotcha, honey," Jake grins, bicep flexing as he pushes open the door for you, "Come get me when you're done so I can lock back up, okay?"

"Alright," You agree, slipping into the bathroom and peeking through the door to call after him, "Thank you again!"

Jake beelines for the bar, reaching around the countertop to grab two bottles of beer. They're stored in an ice bucket, but he prefers them to the tap because they're quicker and easier.

"Hey!" Coyote barks, mad dogging him playfully, "You gonna pay for those, sir?"

"If these help me get that lady's number," Jake rushes back to the tables near the bathroom, sitting at one and setting the other bottle across from him, "I'll give Penny my life savings."

[home-cleaning-services-in-noida]

Best Cleaning Services in Noida | Best Home Cleaning Agency in Noida | Best Office Cleaning Services in Noida | HelperJi

[insanescriptist]

Cremation is just another fun(erl) service

So blaming random 4am thoughts that have been plaguing me all day for this

----

Jason woke to a bright room, thin sheets and the smell of a hospital embedded in his body.

First as always, assess. Hospital. No affiliation printed on the walls or anywhere. Private room, but small. That door looked like it led to a private bathroom. Generic flower picture, a mounted screen turned off. Really fucking bright sunlight from the windows.

There was no fucking way he was in Gotham then. Everything was too nice. Normal by standards outside of Gotham. There were blinds, not metal shutters. The walls were cleaner than Gotham allowed outside of Downtown and he could see greenery through the window.

Okay. So what had he been doing? Jason remembered and then wished he had his Jerichos to shoot himself with. Mystic Shit™. Okay. Okay. That was not one of his better ideas, but if he's recovering in a hospital, it worked. World saved.

So recovery. How fucked was he?

His skin looked so fucked. Which meant he had been worse. He's had time to recover and lose muscle tone in, going by how twiggy his arms were. His hands looked good. Clearly someone knew he cared about those if they went through the effort of restoring those.

Hmm, that was odd. No matter how much Jason hated the Lazarus Pits and all its by-products, it would have been a faster and more simple way to recover from near-death than the long incarceration in a hospital for a John Doe.

Jason wasn't sure if he'd been abandoned yet again by those who called themselves his family because he could, "take care of himself," or if he had been written off dead. Again.

Hospital beat the coffin by a long shot.

And it was with that cheery thought, a nurse -obvious meta human nurse- came in and burst into excited Japanese, because that was of course, his luck.

It's after the nurse and doctors leave that Jason loses his shit.

It looks like he's sulking in bed, but mentally everything in his head is exploding. Imploding.

Three. Fucking. Years. Coma.

Burn victim so bad they not only expected him to die in the first couple of days, but still expect it because of the infection risk his fucked up skin represents.

Still the conversation with the medical staff -of varying degrees of bizarre- was enlightening.

No, he has no idea who he is. Did he ever get anyone visit? How did he get here?

Of course some amnesia is to be expected. No, some of the nurses visited. No one knows how he got here.

Does he know what his quirk is? Uh?

Trauma blocked amnesia, the doctor mutters.

What's the last date he remembered?

Saturday. Maybe? The last year? No, I'm pretty sure my memory is shit and I'm trying hard not to freak out over not knowing anything. So could I get the year number?

And then there's the fucking year number. Once he got it translated into more normal terms.

Mystic Shit™ said fuck you to the future.

Except Jason knows this is not his future. Again, if it was, this would have been treated as a fucking inconvenience. Effective skin restoration goop -the proper name escaped him- was easily available to those with the right connections. A normal baseline human with 2nd and 3rd degree burns would be fine in less than two weeks with it, with nary a trace to show for it.

Thanks to the three year coma, his muscles were all atrophied as fuck, despite their best attempts at physical therapy. Because of all the burns and later burn scars and infections making it basically impossible to actually do fuck all about maintaining muscle tone until he was basically burnt skin and bones anyway.

He was so fucking weak now. It wouldn't last forever. He'd escape this hospital before he was discharged, before whatever "benefactor" showed up for whatever "purpose," he was suppose to serve now, as they had the medical debt over his head or was threatening his loved ones or whatever. If one didn't show up in the next week, he was losing his genre-savviness, because shitheads always wanted to claim shit, if it looked useful.

And Jason was used to looking useful, until he was no longer useful and they just didn't care. The amnesia made him less shiny, but Jason couldn't pull off the brain dead zombie imitation without actually being a brain dead zombie crawling up out of his grave.

So under the thin hospital sheets, Jason twitched his muscles.

Two weeks of emotional freak outs, watching the news, physical therapy and drugs Jason had had enough.

And he broke out.

----

Yeah, he regretted it almost immediately. Hard not to in the stupid paper gown, barefoot and bare ass.

Thankfully people were people, even with the plethora of meta humans he had seen, so it actually wasn't hard to find clothes. Someone left a hoodie in their car and Jason broke into said car. Put on the hoodie. Hotwired the car and drove off.

Somehow for being in the fucking future by two centuries and change, cars really hadn't changed. More evidence of Mystic Shit™ slamming him sideways.

He drove to the next town over, picked another direction, drove some more. Parked the car near what looked like a chop shop, negotiated the car for some money. He probably got ripped off, but better than nothing.

He walked to a corner store, bought some flip-flops after bullshitting an excuse that his had broken. First aid stuff. You know, for his feet. Hair dye in three different colors, because Rose Wilson could pick out a bad dye job at a hundred meters and so Jason learned how to dye his own hair properly so as to avoid her mockery, only to get mockery (affectionate) anyway.

It was a mix of instinct and lifelong observation that let him find an empty apartment quickly. He stole some sweatpants and passed out on the bed.

----

The thing is, Jason doesn't regret his crimes like Bruce thinks he ought to do, with a massive pity party and flaming self-hatred and punching criminals instead of shooting them. He hates the necessity of doing crimes, even if that crime is a net gain to society, but that's why all his serious crimes are premeditated. He's homicidal, not a psychopath.

Not Pit-mad either, no matter what the rest of them might have thought.

Again, he's homicidal, not a psychopath. And when he doesn't have to be some sort of costume soldier to be discarded by family for the disgrace of disfiguring the memory of a dead boy? He's actually chill and boring.

That is to say, he crashed at that apartment for three days, felt progressively more like himself, especially after the dye job -white hair all over, now a solid and boring black- but it still didn't change all the other issues the Mystic Shit™ inflicted on him.

This body isn't actually his. Too young, scars not right where the burns didn't fuck him over. Thankfully his existing coping mechanisms for dysphoria work and it's shoved to the side.

It's also a shit body. Not even a month out of a three year coma with inadequate -by his standards- of medical care. It's weak and building muscle to do everyday civilian shit, is going to take months to do. Pushing as hard as he did during the escape wrecked him the next three days. Jason may not know what's going to happen, but with his luck, it's going to suck and training is preparing to make it suck less. The only certainty he's got is that his skin or lack thereof is going to kill him from infection if he doesn't fix it.

He's got no legal identity here. Which basically puts him back onto familiar ground of legally dead.

Beyond the lack of paperwork, he's got a lack of funds. He also has no easy target to steal funds and equipment from, even just for fun.

For more disadvantages, he's in a different country, with different laws and a whole different culture. He would be climbing on board a fucking plane to Gotham, if it existed in this world, for some familiar ground.

He really is the unluckiest Robin. It also means he is also the most prepared Robin.

---

The first six months after waking up in this mockery world of heroics were the absolute worst.

He started at one foot in the grave and crawled out of it before the casket could really eat him alive. Jason had experience in casket busting. He didn't wanna repeat it.

He still didn't know who he was -in who was he inhabiting- but it wasn't like Jason had a lot to go on. 'His' quirk was thermo-manipulation, most obviously in the blue fire he could call to his hands but he could do some ice too; it was thanks to Duke's light and shadow manipulation that he had even tried for the duality. He had white hair. Presumably Japanese heritage but quirks had really erased or blurred a lot of racial lines. Also presumed dead and young.

Access to the Quirk Registry took some doing, but again, not everyone followed basic computer security, much less what it took to keep someone bat-trained out of their systems. Again, for nearly two centuries in the future, a lot of the technological development had stagnated. Searching through the Quirk Registry hadn't yielded any result but none of his other methods had struck anything either. And he had looked at the recently dead and/or presumed dead. Sure, he had some leads that looked viable, but he wasn't going to follow those up yet.

He had fixed a few of his most pressing issues the past six months. His ignorance of the local area, the local and national politics and so on. This world supported and had an entire industry catering to making child soldiers and sell their image and reputation to make money and more child soldiers that called themselves Heroes.

His weak ass body no long cried doing daily tasks and only hated him after working out. Yes, Jason was pushing it but he was well aware of how months of preparation could mean shit in the face of seconds.

His infection risk was severely reduced after quick research bender let him make the most generic knock-off brand of the skin restoration goop in a shitty homemade lab. Did it fix his skin being patchwork fucked in places? Some. He wasn't going to get feeling back properly, but at least he looked more normal. Maybe with enough moisturizing he might look a little less Frankenstien's monster.

He also had a cash inflow. It wasn't great, but it supported his apartment. And the second set of papers. And the 2nd apartment.

Which meant in grand old tradition for Jason, time for him to bounce to the next apartment and come up with a new name.

[cookie-crumblr]

The Smell of Smoke

Innocent F! Reader x M!Yandere Bully OC

Part 4~

His Info: 🖕✨

Part: 1 2 3 4 5

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

CW: !F reader, use of she/her when referring to reader, reader has a vagina, YANDERE, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, name calling (bitch,little slut ), BULLY, gagging, extreme violence against reader, branding, burning, oral on ml, spitting, choking, water boarding, p in v, breeding kink themes, collars (i think all above is still non-con) DRUGGING(SO SORRY I FORGOT OMG)

“Name’s Ace! by the way, I mean…” Ace fumbles with his fingers and his hair for an awkward amount of time before speaking again. “Um… Y/N…” He takes a deep breath finally deciding to get to his point, “Stay away from my brother. I mean— like— please!”

“I wasn’t trying to be anywhere near the guy, he’s just… everywhere.” You sigh.

“I… I know… You have to keep trying though! I-It’s not that he’s a bad person… He just…” He makes a motion to your damaged person to demonstrate what he’s trying to say. “Anyway, I’ll get ya outta here and home safe, but you have to promise me at least eventually that you’ll stay away from us.”

(Changes how the future parts of SOS will play out)

Ace’s warning did little to change your future. Your present…

You washed your face in the bathroom at school.

That was all.

All you did to deserve this.

Ezra holds your face under the faucet and painfully smushed against the porcelain.

He shoves you harder against it suddenly, it twists your neck.

“Take it, bitch.” He uses his other arm to motion something behind your back. “Hold her. You, strip her.”

Other hands take the place of his against your head.

You hear a flame, “N-No!No!NoNonoNo!” you babble.

“Shut her up.” He motions to them with his shoulder. His hands are occupied, holding a blow torch in one, and a brand in the other.

You shake and struggle violently against them, one stuffs something into your mouth, and another breaks your leg by kicking in your knee.

You scream into the gag, and that isn’t even the worst pain you’ll get to experience today.

Ezra presses the red hot metal to your, now still, lower thigh.

The agony is immeasurable.

It feels like an eternity, but

You black out from it instantly.

You aren’t in a hospital when you wake this time.

It’s more like…

A prison. or, a detention center.

Your leg is set right, and your burns are being properly treated. The environment could be cleaner, but you seem… Safe.

“He’s coming down,” some guys guarding the cells say as they get into position.

Ezra comes down the stairs, you can hear him before you see him.

“When’s she gon’ wake up”

“Not for another hour or so…” someone pipes up.

His foot thumps come closer and closer until, he’s within your bed’s upright position’s view.

“She looks awake t’me.” He takes the man’s skull in his hands and slams it into the glass. His face comes closer as if to say something—

“Wait!! Wait! Ezra!! I literally just woke up!! Don’t!” You jump to your feet and the monitors buzz and screech. Your leg hurts.

“Get in there and stop her.” He opens the door and throws the man in.

He lights a cigarette as he stares holes into you.

The other guys grab you and force you back into bed. the “doctor” quickly and effectively, sets everything back into place.

You don’t have any fight left to try anything.

Ezra gets them all to leave before coming in to see you up close.

He tilts your head up roughly and bends down to kiss you without saying a word.

You let it happen, too tired to resist, though a fire builds in your core.

It almost burns, and then, he pulls away.

“You’ll need time to adjust, and heal.” He says as he stands back up.

“Adjust?”

“Yeah. Like new schedule ‘n shit. You’re… Under my protection now.” He rolls up his sleeves, “You have t’ adjust t’ this too.”

“To wha—” His dick is shoved into your mouth, wetness pools from the intrusion.

Hands in your hair forcing your nose bent up, and pressing tight against his body.

You choke around his girth. “Your mouth already forgot about this cock, I’m hurt” He throws his head back as he starts to fuck your face. Only bringing it back down, to stare at your big watery eyes.

His scowl deepens as he fucks you harder. “Don’t waste any.” He spits on you, as he cums down your throat.

“Turn tha fuck around, bitch, and crawl.”

You do as you’re told, looking back at him a couple of times and catching his lingering glances.

“I’m only gonna give you my fingers right now, and you’re gonna cum f’ me. Gotit, bitch?”

You nod.

Your legs shake, as he starts to stroke your lips. his thumb is teasing your entrance while his two fingers pinch and glide over your clit.

“Mm ah!!” You cry out, the dull throngs of pain from your leg injuries adding to you’re pleasures intensity.

“Good little slut” He fucks you harder and harder with just his fingers on the outside and his thumb not even inside you. You come completely undone on his hand.

He buckles a thick collar with a leash around your neck and ties it around a metal post.

“Mmf, actually, I might cum in you again,” His voice is so much deeper and hungrier than you’ve ever heard in anyone.

“Hah! ahh! haah haa!” You moan in rhythm of his thrusts.

*plap plap plap plap*

He stripped completely naked to fuck you.

This man goes all out.

He’s holding you by your arms, and he shot you up with morphine.

Your body burns so bad and you don’t even know how many times you’ve came.

He pulls you to the edge of the bed and folds your legs to your chest and into a mating press.

“Don’t fuckin’ waste this—“ He thrusts in harder, “I don’t cum ‘n sluts”

“Oof!” He’s knocking all the wind from your lungs as he pounds into your womb. “hu-huh!?”

*Plap — Plap — Plap!*

“AH!!” Your body shakes, and at the same time he reaches for some duct tape nearby, as he pulls out he wipes himself clean and presses his cum back into you.

He then puts the strip of it right over your cunt.

“Don’t have too much fun with that, ‘n you better not get fucking pregnant, bitch.” He disappears out the doors again, and you’re left a high and confused mess.

[senawashere]

Hi could I request something fluffy for Bradley? Maybe he comes home after a bit too many beers at the Hard Deck and is super needy just needs a bit of affection🤭 please take your time, and no rush! You can go wherever you want with this:)

We're on this together...(Chapter VII)

Summary: Cat is out of the bag.

A/n: It took a lot,sorry.. And thank you @promisingyounglady for thus request,i changed it a bit,hope you will like it!!!

Warnings: Infertility,mentions of miscarrige,mentions of hospital,mentions of getting pregnant,mentiones of ivf.Use of alcohol,arguing,use of bad languange. Not so angsty anymore🥹

September 11 2022

If there was one thing Bradley wanted, it was to spend the rest of his life with you.

If there was one thing Bradley definitely wanted, it was to have a family with you.

You wished he was more creative, more romantic, but when your period was late and you started feeling queasy about food, you took a pregnancy test and burst into tears when you saw the result.

You had been trying for this for years and you were exhausted.

Mental breakdowns, crying sessions, crises, fights, negative tests, negative doctor visits and more, it hurt a lot for years.

But one day everything changed.

That test that you were used to seeing as negative came back positive that day.

You were pregnant.

You wished you could create something to share the news with Bradley, but he came running to your screams, his eyebrows pinched together in distress and he ran into the bathroom with a frantic "Baby?!"

You were jumping, holding the test with tears streaming down your face, "We're going to be parents! Bradley, we're going to be parents!"

"What?!" Bradley screamed, his vision instantly blurring as he gasped for air and gasped for air, and he stood up to ground himself from the overwhelming emotions and pulled you to his chest, giving you a bone-crushing hug.

Another thing you'll remember forever.

°•°•°•

Of course you were smart enough to wait nine months, but you didn't expect Bradley to be so protective of you the moment he found out you were pregnant.

"Why are you using the kettle, baby? There's hot water in there."

"Oh no, honey, you're not taking Duke to the park by yourself."

"Don't sleep too close to the side, baby, come here, into my arms."

"What are you doing?! Hell no, you're not even going near the vacuum cleaner."

You could barely breathe as Bradley watched you, his body ready to interfere with you.

God forbid, because right now your baby is lying in your womb sipping on damn cocktails in your bladder.

“What happened? What happened?” Bradley woke up frantically, his sleepy eyes wide and his hair a mess as he leaned towards you.

“Baby, I’m just gonna pee.” you chuckled quietly.

He rubbed his eyes as he got out of bed, muttering, “Okay, let’s go.”

You sat down on the bed, looking at him in shock as he yawned and waited for you.

“Bradley, I’m seriously just gonna pee,” you said, before pointing to the bathroom, “Right there.”

Your husband’s arrogance made him look at you in confusion, “Yeah, I know. Come on then, let’s go and pee.”

You stood up, “I’m not gonna pee while you’re staring at me like a hawk.”

“Okay, I won’t look then.”

“Roo!”

“Whaaaat?” He shrugged at you as he dragged you to the bathroom, looking at you, “I just want to protect you and our baby.”

“I think that’s great, but baby,” you sighed, “Go back to bed and let me pee on my own, okay?”

He wasn’t sure, his eyebrows furrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest in displeasure as he watched you step closer to him, wearing your fluffy slippers.

“Relax, cranky,” you teased, before pressing a kiss to his cheek and heading into the bathroom.

Brad, being Brad, sat on the bed, his eyes glued to the closed door, mentally prepared to rush you if you did so little as whimper.

But minutes later, you washed your hands, yawned, and rubbed your eyes before jumping on your waiting husband.

You shook your head and let out a laugh of disbelief, “I can’t believe you.”

Worse, Bradley wasn’t the only one constantly freaking out and protecting you from the world’s many terrible dangers, and more specifically, TV remotes, vacuum cleaners, and everything else that was going on around him.

But so was Duke.

The little—now big—pup was definitely his dad’s best friend, because Duke’s body had grown and he would be right next to you whenever a family member or friend got too close. If you were all sitting on the couch, Duke’s paw was always on your belly next to Bradley’s hand.

It was enough to make you wonder if Duke was even human.

Bradley shared the news with the squad when you were almost 3 months pregnant:

"She's over there!"

His voice was drowned out by the clinking of glasses and the heavy bass of the rock song playing through the crappy speakers in the corner of the room, but it was still unmistakable. His "greeting" was followed by shouts and howls from the rest of the group, many of whom raised their glasses in honor of your (late) arrival.

"My hot wife!"

Bradley, despite his drunkenness, smiled widely and greeted you protectively, as he had for the last few weeks – this time he removed your coat and purse, along with any bags or extra weight he had hanging on brass hooks underneath.

You scanned the bar table and his facial expression for any signs of displeasure or concern.

He couldn't pinpoint exactly when he started "dad mode," his tendencies to go into overdrive, but it definitely started that rainy and cold Tuesday night in your shared bathroom as you sat leaning against the wall of the tub with three positive pregnancy tests.

“I wish you would stop calling me that, Brad,” you sneered as he helped you free your arms from your jacket. "One day you'll make a scene."

The drunk man chuckled.

"What can i say,baby?."

You nodded and rolled your eyes at his antics as you turned your attention towards to your soon to be husband and the man of the hour, intending to pull him in for quick hug and a kiss.

“Y/n!”

Despite the loud noise of the bar, you heard a familiar voice. You turned back to see Jake coming towards you both. Approaching Bradley first.

"Hello, birthday boy," Jake's voice was soft against the drunken slur that was beginning to take over Bradley.

"It's not nice of you to be late for my party,"

“Well sometimes traffic can be a pain in the ass,you know that. But here are my two favorite people standing together. Come give me a hug” he slurred, pulling both in rather roughly for a bone-crushing hug.

You managed to squeeze out a giggle between Jake's bone-crushing hug.

You saw Bradley stiffen out of the corner of his eye, as if saying, "Jeez calm down, dude. She's pregnant, for God's sake," or letting the interaction continue.

He knew he wasn't allowed to do the first one because you both agreed to wait until all your friends and family gathered at the same time to tell them the great news, so Bradley let Jake hug you. You hugged extra tight despite his unrealistic, dramatic concerns that he would crush his fragile body or somehow harm the baby. When he released you from his grasp, he made sure to send Jake a reassuring smile.

Your greeting to Penny and Natasha was short and sweet, both opting to kiss you on the cheek.

“Let me see it one more time,” Natasha’s voice was quiet, almost a whisper, over the chatter of the bar.

You felt the heat creep up your cheeks as she took your hand in hers to examine the ring on your fourth finger.

The ring was thin and gold, studded with a single, elegant but large diamond in the center.

“It's beautiful,” she whispered, marveling at the way the jewel floated even in the dim, tungsten glow of the bar.

You mumbled a quiet “thank you” before leading back to the other side of the table. You turned to where Bradley was waiting for you with his arms outstretched, a shit-eating grin on his face.

You caught the wind of tequila on his breath as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

You tasted it too, kissing his lips quickly and - oh my god, had he gained weight too? Or was he getting more bulkier? But he looked like a whole damn meal like this too.

"So okay?You did worry me when you said you were going to be late,are you okay now?" Bradley's question was asked in a low voice so only he could hear.

Bradley had been celebrating all day with Jake, Natasha, Javy, Mickey,Bob,Maverick and Penny so this was the first time he saw you since you kissed him and sent him off to work this morning.

You nodded and smiled, but your face made Bradley believe otherwise.

"I felt nauseous when I got home from the office. It took me a little longer to get out the door," he shrugged, implying that it wasn't a big deal but that he didn't feel 100 percent ready to party either.

“Baby,” Bradley half-scolded you, feeling a good portion of his hum leave his body when Y/N said she wasn’t feeling well. Clinging on you like a koala because of the alcohol in his veins.

"Why didn't you tell me you were not feeling good? I would come home and sit with you."

“I wasn't going to ask you to interrupt your best friend's birthday dinner just because I was vomiting for the umpteenth time this week,” you said sternly, making it clear that you were fine.

"I'm fine. I promise."

Bradley's jaw softened at your sentence, the muscles in his torso relaxing from their tense positions.

"Oh! Will you two stop whispering and get drunk with me?!" Jake shouted across the table, bursting the bubble that had temporarily surrounded the couple as both whispered about their sweet little secret they were dying to tell everyone.

“You,” Jake pointed a finger at Y/N’s head. “Don’t be shy. Now,” he pointed at the bartender who was making drinks at the opposite end of their table.

Both you and Bradley chuckled nervously, not sure how to handle the fact that you couldn’t drink without airing dirty laundry.

“I think I need to eat some food before I do that. Why don’t you get some for Bradley,” You grabbed Bradley’s shoulder and pushed him forward, praying that it would be enough to entertain the drunk boy.

“Fine,” Jake glared.

“That’ll make it hard for you to keep up later, though!”

He grabbed Bradley by the bicep and pushed through the crowd to get him liquor, which he was so eager for.

Your conversations with Penny were light, mostly about what they had done today and the bet they had made that Bradley would need to have a ride for the night.

You successfully dodged Natasha’s questions about how the fertility and planning were going,how the doctor was and was it helping your sex life.

“We are trying hard,it is going good,” you replied with a nervous chuckle, the truth being that you were pregnant right now.

It felt like ages before the two of them – Jake and Bradley– returned.

You had chosen the fries and were sipping on the ginger ale Bradley had bought you before Jake came, but you were interrupted when Bradley and Jake returned to the table.

He was drunk.

Quite drunk.

More than tipsy.

Damn he wasn’t even seeing straight anymore.

And you knew it because his body was even warmer and his eyes looked even hazier than before he left.

You definitely imagined them having more than one shot at the bar, but you didn’t have much time to think about it before you felt his arms wrap around your waist and rest on your hips. You returned his touch, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and resting your head on his chest.

“I love you,” Bradley murmured into the soft spot between your jaw and ear, then his hands slid under your shirt to rest on your lower belly.

“I love you too,” you said again.

You could feel him smiling against your skin as he cradled the barely-there baby bump beneath your oversized sweater.

Bradley was the only one who saw you regularly enough to notice the small changes your body was going through. To everyone else, you still looked like plain old Y/N.

“We like you more but if you don’t stop fooling me in the middle of this bar,” You began, speaking light-heartedly and quietly into your ear, “Everyone will know and you won’t understand. You have to be quiet in order to have that announcement party you’ve been planning for weeks.”

Bradley sighed, knowing you were right, and loosened his grip on your stomach, choosing to at least throw an arm over your shoulder to keep you close.

“I know what you’re up to,” Jake and Natasha looked at the two from across the table.

This caught the attention of not only Jake and Natasha, but also Bob,Maverick and Penny. Everyone turned to look at Jake, anticipating what he was going to say next.

“So what’s going on here, Y/n?” Jake asked flirtatiously.

A frown formed on Btadley’s face, his arms quickly pulled up to his chest as he huffed.

“You’re trying to get out of here and leave us alone on your birthday.”

“I guess I’m not even here then. I guess I am just your fantasy then,” Bradley said, rolling his eyes.

“We’re not trying to leave you, man. I promise,” you stuck your pinky out on the table as a gesture of sincerity.

“Besides.” Jake’s drunken chatter was starting to sound rather childish now, and it was getting more and more entertaining by the second.

“We don’t do that, Bangman,” Bradley Replied.

“Liars. Both of you.”Jake threw a bunch of straw wrappers in Bradley’s direction, which bounced off Bradley’s chest and landed near his feet.

They were both heavily intoxicated now, and you didn’t want a fight between them.

“Where could we possibly go, hmm?” Bradley scoffed, resting his chin on the knuckles of his free hand that was resting on the table. "What better thing could we possibly plan than spending time with you on my birthday dinner?"

They watched as Jake fought his remaining sobriety for an answer, but he eventually gave in to his drunkenness and said, "I don't know. You're probably going to fuck each other or something.”

The table burst out laughing and you hid your face in Bradley’s chest because you were embarrassed.

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Penny said before taking a long sip of her cocktail.

“Look. We’re in agreement.” Jake tried her best to sound serious in his drunken stupor.

“Prove to me that you won’t leave me at here and have another shot,” Jake said like a 5-year-old.

“Dude why the fuck they would leave you here at his own party dinner?” Bob asked but Bradley cut him off. “Fine,” Bradley shrugged. “Let’s go back to the bar then.”

Bradley started to pull Jake towards him but was stopped abruptly.

“No,” Jake said quickly.

“Y/n too. If you both drink, you can’t go home and leave me,” he said proudly, as if it was the smartest idea he could come up with.

“Hangman, maybe she doesn’t want to drink with y-” Bob was cut once again.

“Oh my god Bob stop, she loves drinking!” Jake absurdly said.

He couldn’t even form proper sentences and he wouldn’t listen to anything you said or Bradley or Bob.

You just knew that Jake was sloppy drunk and acting like an idiot like he always did, but you couldn’t help but feel your palms start to sweat.

You couldn’t tell Jake the real reason you couldn’t have drinks with the group tonight, so you quickly tried to come up with another excuse since you’d been stuffing your belly with fries since he’d given you your last one.

But there was no need to think any further when Bradley was helping you with his.

“She can’t do that, man. Now, come on. Let’s get some more tequila. Looks like Nat,Javy and Mickey needs some more too, hmm?”

You pinched your nose in annoyance. He was doing his best to keep this all under wraps, but Jake was making it extremely difficult.

“Who are you? Her guardian? Are you telling her what she can and can’t do?” he shouted.

“No, you fucking nun. She can’t drink because you can’t drink when you’re pregn-”

Damn it.

Bradley covered his mouth before he could finish his sentence, but it was too late. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking when he said it. To be completely honest, he wasn’t even sure if he was thinking.

He silently prayed that neither Jake nor the others would hear him, but when they all looked between him and you with wide eyes, he knew immediately that it wasn’t true.

“Y/N, are you pregnant?” Maverick was the first to speak.

You felt stuck in place, only able to stare at Bradley with a very fast beating heart and an open mouth.

“I, um, I – yeah?” It came out more as a question due to your state of shock.

“I’m so sorry baby,” Bradley cried, turning to you to comfort you.

He was writhing with fear that you were angry with him, but it was mostly the alcohol that made him think that way.

“You have a baby?” Jake’s voice was unusually low compared to how loud he had been shouting earlier.

“Yes. It will be.” You were laughing nervously as you spoke. “I’m sorry Bradley ruined the surprise. We wanted to throw a big party and tell everyone at the same time, but I think the cat’s out of the bag for you.”

You rubbed the palm of your hand over Bradley’s back, silently assuring him that you weren’t mad at him. But the others were in a completely different world.

Jake didn’t say anything, just moved from his position next to Bob to get between You and Brad.

He looked at you both with an expression that resembled both anger and confusion, which only increased your discomfort.

In a split second, he wrapped his arms around both of you and hugged both of you tightly.

“Wow! This is the best news i heard today. Uncle Jake…What the fuck?! This is amazing!!

Now he was wandering around, smiling from ear to ear as he ran to Mickey and Javy, who had lost their minds again, to pull them into a group hug on her own chairs instead of on yours and Bradleys.

Both your eyes locked on each other in the middle of the group of friends and they were forced to be a part of his sandwich.

A smile and a knowing look exchanged between you, and despite not coming out in the most fashionable way, you knew that your precious little nugget would be surrounded by people who loved them very much. Everybody took their time to hug both of you and congratulate you.

By the end of the night, Jake leaned over his knees and placed his icy hands on your belly.

"Hi, I'm Jake, I love you..." He began to kiss her belly in a drunken voice.

"Fuck off Jake, that's enough." You burst out laughing as Bradley shouted from behind you.

"Okay.”

And that's how your pregnancy was revealed…

Few weeks later…

For a few days, it was Bradley and Duke’s normal protectiveness that you had gotten used to, but it wasn’t until Bradley’s mother invited you to a family gathering that Bradley reached a new level.

“Go join the others, okay?” You told him, “I’ll be fine here with your relatives,” and despite not being sure, he did as you asked, but looked at you often to make sure you were okay.

When someone is pregnant, that’s the talk of any sit-down.

“You’re glowing!” Many of Bradley’s family members fawned over your belly and your pregnancy, “Did you find out the sex of the baby?” one woman asked. You said you didn’t because you wanted to know when the baby was born.

All of this was fine.

But.

A lot of hands were constantly touching your belly.

You knew it was good intentions, but you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable with every hand touching your belly—hands from people you weren’t that familiar with.

Every time someone touched your belly, you tried to take a discreet step back, trying to put your hands on your belly before they did, but it was no use.

Bradley knew you like the back of his hand.

So, in a failed attempt to hide your discomfort, he immediately tried to save you as you stood with a forced smile on your face with 6 of his relatives.

“Hi,” he chuckled, wrapping his arm around your waist before placing a quick kiss on your cheek.

“What if you’re not the father!” A woman joked happily, “We were just giving Y/N tips for the first month when the baby came,” she said before leaning forward to caress your belly, “I think it’s a baby girl.”

You frowned at the touch, taking a slight step back as you also moved closer to Bradley. He understood, wrapping his other arm around your waist, his relative pulling his hand away reflexively,

“Anyway, I’ll be so happy. Can you give us one minute please?” He asked them with a gentle smile before taking your hand in his and letting you both go to a quieter place.

You sighed in relief, caressing your little belly.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked softly, his hands covering your face, “What’s wrong, honey?”

“I just-” You sighed again, feeling overwhelmed with emotions that would make you cry.

“Hey, hey,” Bradley’s mood changed instantly, his eyebrows furrowed as he hugged you, pulling you closer to his chest, “I’m right here, I’m right here.”

“I just,” your husky voice said before you pulled away slightly but still leaned into him, “Everyone keeps touching my belly. Like, all these hands and all these people and some of them are like, some of them are just rubbing it or something or holding it there for a long time so they can feel the baby kick and it just makes me so uncomfortable.”

Bradley nodded as you spoke, looking into your eyes as he began, “You have every right to be uncomfortable, baby, I’m so sorry,” he said softly, “How about we go home, yeah? We can just go.”

“But your mom-”

He shook his head, “My mom will understand, I promise. I care about your comfort more than anything else,” he said. “Let’s go, okay?”

“Okay,” you sniffled.

“Yeah?” He smiled softly and leaned down to press his lips to yours in a soft kiss. “I love you, I’m so sorry.”

“I love you too,” you replied, before sighing, wrapping your arms around him. “And my back really hurts.”

“We’ll go home,” he said as he began to rub your back. “And I’ll massage you until you fall asleep, how does that sound?”

“Heavenly.”

He murmured, “How about I call my mom so you can say goodbye? You don’t have to say goodbye to everyone, I don’t want more people touching you.”

“You mean like I don’t know,” you shrugged, “Isn’t it a bit rude?”

“Fuck it,” Bradley replied instantly, “I can’t risk making you feel any more uncomfortable because someone might think it’s rude.”

And he kept his promise. Bradley called his mom so you could sneak off alone and say goodbye to the relatives.

And then he kept his promise once more because as soon as you got home he was buzzing around like a busy bee, making sure you were happy and comfortable before massaging your back.

“Mmh i love you so so so much,baby”

“Love you too honey.”

Child jake vs dagger squad

I'm tagging people who might be interested: @ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @callsign-fox @greenorangevioletgrass @roosterforme @teacupsandtopgun @floydsglasses @lyn-js @its-dee-lovely @its-the-pilot @friedchips94 @hardballoonlove @topguncortez @bradshawsbaddie @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @themusingofagothicsoul @promisingyounglady @the-romanian-is-bae @mamachasesmayhem @jessicab1991 @iefitzgerald-blog @charcole-grey @waterriseslew @desert-fern @eternalsams @callsigns-haze @promisingyounglady @els-marvelvsp @cevansbaby-dove @atarmychick007 if you are not comfortable please tell me!!

[luxthestrange]

Incorrect quotes#800 HouseWife Mam

In the Near Future-In the human world

Mam*In an apron glaring at the dirty window*What's up homie you pulling up on me or what-*Takes out the index cleaner out midair and starts shooting the window*BRAH BRAH BRAH!

Mam*Looking at the camera phone*Ey Welcome to another day as a Cholo Housewife, When My Treasure's at work being a Pan-winner~I get the kid's lunches ready for school!*Gives Luke and the LilDs their own lunch bags and a kiss on their foreheads as they run out to catch the bus*

Mam*Outside on the lawn on top of a yoga mat, fighting the air*I also get my morning Karate-Cholo on!-PUES ORALE STEP INTO THE RING AND THROWN DOWN ESE!?

Mam*Back inside taking the clothes out the dryer*I get the laundry done-OH!And I start watering the plants I call this one Mc 2!*Watering a small houseplant*

-Outside the house, you arrive still talking on the phone with a stack of papers in one hand-

Mam"Oh mi amor is home-I better prepare my mamacita/papacito slippers!"*Runs to the door and puts slippers at the ready for you*"Ey if they're here who's running heaven?~"

Mc*Is talking to your assistant and smiles taking off your shoes and the slippers on, letting Mammon take your belongings*

Mam"Damn look at em, still workin', Too bad our husband Rafa quit after he met me at the Christmas party"There you go my Treasure!~Take these off"Damn why do your feet still smell like roses..."

Mc*Looks up at him and caresses his face, laying a kiss on his cheek as you then hurry to the bathroom*

Mam"Oh, They're looking at me!-DONT CRY DONT CRY DONT CRY!"*Red checks as his Adam's apple goes up and down*Now one thing about my treasure, they got a cute little bladder

Mam*Uses magic to get to the bathroom door and open it for you to run in*Right this way treasure~Windows open and candles lit~*Closes the door and then naruto runs down the hallway*NOW BACK TO THE KITCHEN WHERE I BELONG!~

...I think about Mammon being my wife ...a normal amount~(I DONT)

[upsidedownmvnson]

when eddie first got back from the upside down he didnt want anyone to touch him but you.

he let steve close enough to help him limp out of the nightmare they survived, but as soon as they were at your house he kept everyone at arms length. he was too overwhelmed, too overstimulated from a near death that he just needed space.

but never from you.

you who brought love and comfort and support. you who almost brought him warmth. he could use a truckload of warmth right now.

you could not only come close, but you could touch him. you used a soft cloth against his cheeks to get all the fried blood off, taking your time to do it as gently as you could. your heart sank every time he winced, the cloth touching something painful.

he was sitting on the toilet in your bathroom, watching you intently and breathing quickly. he was stilled overwhelmed, and his chest hurt. maybe he was even having a panic attack… his wounds ached but he said nothing.

when his face was a little cleaner, you pressed a kiss against his cheek. and the simple gesture helped his breathing start to steady, and he felt some wind return to his sails. eddie was starting to feel a little better in the comfort of your care.

unfortunately that meant the pain was getting worse as the shock and adrenaline start to wear down, and he was struggling to mask the hurt on his face. seeing his face dampen you frown, finally coming to the conclusion he was downplaying his wounds.

of course, you were the only one allowed to look at the deep injuries on his body. obviously he needed a hospital, but he refused. he didn’t want to, he couldnt bare the eyes on him right now.

with nancy, steve, and robin lingering nearby in your living room, you helped eddie out of his clothes, working as slowly and softly as possible not to disturb the angry cuts littered across him. he couldnt ignore these.

“you were so brave,” you said, “i think you can be brave again and come to the hospital with me”

he looked frightened. like he wanted to crawl into himself and runaway from your words. the fear clouding his beautiful eyes almost hurt to look at.

“i will be by your side every step of the way.”

“only if you stay with me”

“baby, i’m right here as long as you want me.”

and so with your help, eddie went and got himself some help, even though he was terrified <3 poor baby

accidentally started a ptsd!eddie series i think but i think it would be true

[holdupjack]

Forgetting You

——————

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fem!Reader

AU: Inspired by ‘Forgetting You’ by Cam

WARNING: ANGST NO COMFORT

——————

Third Person P.O.V:

Seven Years After The War

Hermione lay on the bed in the tiny hotel room as Christmas drew closer and closer every passing day.

They were staying near the Russian Ministry as they took a small vacation for the Holidays. Her future husband's 'idea' of a getaway.

Ron slept beside her as the digital alarm clock flickered to 3:09 A.M. Her eyes blinked slowly at the ceiling as she listened to his soft snoring fill the room.

Her mind was blank, but at the same time, it seemed to be filled to the brim with...something.

She slowly sat up and placed her feet on the carpeted floor. The fibers slipped between the spaces of her toes as she debated getting out of the warm bed.

The room was dark and stuffy, almost suffocating as she sat there. Hermione swallowed the ever-present lump in her throat as she stood up and slowly walked towards the bathroom.

The TV was on but was muted as it played a news broadcast, talking about some tragedy in a part of the world she didn't live in.

The bathroom was only a few feet away, but she felt as though she was dragging a skyscraper by a chin around her feet.

When Hermione opened the door, she flicked on the light and closed her eyes, the sudden brightness blinded her as she shut the entry behind her.

Her head began to throb as she shuffled over to the toilet and shut the lid, sitting down with a small sigh as she rubbed her temples.

She could hear the ice machine humming from somewhere near the small kitchen in their room. It was reassuring as she opened her eyes and adjusted to the light.

Hermione looked to her right and saw her reflection staring back at her. She didn't recognize herself anymore.

She stood up slowly and looked down at the counter to find her old makeup sitting on the corner instead of the one from home. Her hand reached for it but paused a moment halfway through.

Uneasiness filled her chest as she looked between the bag and the ring on her finger. One was shiny and new, while the other was old and ready to be forgotten.

Hermione swallowed the lump again as she grabbed the bag and pulled it over to her. Her fingers slowly unzipped the middle, where she found nothing but old makeup and dust.

Ron must have packed this for her by mistake, she swore she had left it under the sink, hidden behind the bleach and tile cleaner.

Her hand slipped into the bag and pushed away the contents until she saw a face she hadn't seen in years.

"Y/n..."

A small polaroid sat at the bottom, moving with the magic she had cast on it in the fifth year. Long forgotten.

Slowly she pulled it out, dust lay overtop of it from neglect. She quickly wiped it away and let out a shuddered breath.

'Love Birds 🧡

October 11th, 1995'

"I thought I had lost this" she whispers to herself as she stares at it with a desperate longing behind her voice. She recognized Ginny's Orange glitter gel pen.

Y/n played her guitar in the photo as a younger Hermione sat on the floor and watched with a lovestruck expression. She remembered Ginny telling her she snapped the picture while the two of them were stuck in their own little world.

Hermione let out a hardened breath as she placed the Polaroid down and rested her hands on the edge of the counter. She leaned against it and calmed her raging memories and emotions.

"Fuck" she choked out as her bottom lip trembled uncontrollably, she bit it in hopes to stop the sobs that tried to escape.

Everything she had pushed from her mind started to make its way to the forefront. Sending sharp pains to her soul as she remembers everything that she had loved and lost.

Hermione suddenly grabbed the photo and placed it in her palm, threatening to crumple it with a shaking hand.

"Stop haunting me!" She grits out as her eyes start to fill, threatening to spill out onto her dry cheeks.

"It's bad enough that everything reminds me of you! From the morning sun to the midnight moon...you've ruined everything normal in my life" Hermione says as her fingers flexed over it, refusing to crush the misplaced memory. A salty droplet fell on her face as she stared at it with a mix of anger and agony.

A grunt of annoyance left her lips as she threw the photo on the counter and turned around. She wiped her face in a way to clear her mind, but it didn't seem to help as more tears fell without her permission.

The mixed sounds of the AC and air vent cut in and out as they regulated the small space of the hotel bathroom. It didn't drown out her ragged breathing, sadly.

"You just had to be a hero" Hermione mutters as she turns back around and looks at the photo, that is now lying face down on the counter.

"I told you not to let go of my hand, but you went off and got yourself killed!" She spits out with pure anger as she flips it over and looks at the smiling face of Y/n.

"You're supposed to be here with me, not him. It was never supposed to be him." Hermione says as she gestures to the door, where her soon-to-be husband is fast asleep on the other side.

She breathed heavily, waiting as if the memory would reply. Of course, it didn't. It only replayed again.

"I'm left on this spinning rock in the middle of infinite space, without my favorite person, and you're somewhere where I can't see you...don't you get how physically draining these last seven years have been?" Hermione asks as her anger turns into sadness. Tears falling more frequently now that she's stopped holding back.

"You-You...ugh!" She whispered angrily as she tried to regulate her emotions, but they only seemed to spill over more as she stood in that freezing bathroom. Goosebumps rose onto her skin over time, and the bottom of her feet felt like it was burning due to how cold the tile was.

The picture continued to repeat as it showed better times, that we're trying to be forgotten. All Hermione could do was wrap her arms around herself and muffle the sobs that tried to escape her throat.

It took a few minutes before she spoke again, somehow even quieter. Her eyes darted back and forth between the mirror and the counter, trying to decide what to do.

She sighed, finally landing back on her favorite person...or favorite ghost.

"He buys me roses, I hate roses, and he knows that. He buys me white chocolate when I love dark chocolate. He doesn't like to hold hands when that's my favorite thing." Hermione explained as she began to pace slightly. The tile seemed even colder than before, and even more lonely.

"You knew all these things...you made sure to get me tulips, and dark chocolate, and to hold my hand like I'd disappear..." Hermione mumbled as she ran her fingers through her hair, shaking out the tangles in annoyance.

"Then the one time you didn't take my hand...you died"

That realization hurt.

Y/n had separated from Hermione during the battle, telling her she needed to 'go help' the others.

Ten minutes later, Hermione found nothing left but her wand. She was pulled away by Ron when the Nagini began to come their way.

After the war had been won, Hermione spent days clawing through debris and bodies in search of her lover. The smell of decay was still stuck in her nose to this day.

Y/n was never found.

Hermione hoped that she was out there somewhere, that she was hiding in shame from defecting from the war efforts.

But Hermione knew better.

She knew Y/n better.

That's why her mind told her that she was gone, beginning to come to ash that blew away quickly in the wind.

"Did it hurt?" She asked for the photo as silence scrapped at the walls of the bathroom. Threatening to claw out more realizations that she wasn't ready for...she'll never be ready for.

She hid from her grief like an owl in the night, huddling deep in her nest of sorrow. Her head burrowed down into her wings, shielding herself from the painful realities of the world. She wanted nothing more than to disappear into the blackness of the sky, to fly away and never return.

To escape her pain and loss, to leave her grief far below, to start anew, and never again know the weight of sorrow.

Yet, she held on to the love of her life, even as she was about to marry another.

"If I let you go...will I be happy?" She asks as her nails dug into the skin of her forearm, almost spilling blood from her grip.

She knew that answer. A ghost didn't need to come out for her to figure it out.

The photo showed the final moments before it repeated, where Y/n laughed as Hermione began to sing along.

She swore she could almost hear it.

Her eyes closed as she let her memory replay the vocals of that chuckle, hoping to have it embedded in her mind for safekeeping.

"I haven't heard that laugh in a very long...long time" Hermione chuckled sadly, a sigh coming out with it as she kept her eyes closed. Memories started to fill the recesses of her mind as she thought back on the night before they had gone back to the castle.

"Do you ever wonder what life will be like if either of us doesn't make it?" Y/n had asked as they lay on the small cot together, Hermione had her face buried against her neck. She could still smell nature and firewood that was stuck to her skin.

"Don't even put that into the universe, please" Hermione had whispered back as she held her girlfriend tighter, the boys were talking by the campfire outside.

"It's a valid question" Y/n replied as her hand trailed up and down her spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Even seven years later, in a hotel bathroom thousands of miles away from that forest.

"It's a scary question" Hermione retorted as she looked up at her, her lips brushing the underside of Y/n's jaw. She could still taste that stupid fizzy drink she loved from Hogsmeade.

Older Hermione chuckled at that little remembrance. Her hand reached up and touched her lips in a small attempt at feeling her lost love kiss again.

"How would you like me to phrase it then Granger?" Y/n asked with a small chuckle as she looked down and stared at Hermione with a playful gaze.

"Don't even bring it up" she replied as she leaned up and kissed her to shush the raging thoughts in that once beautiful mind of hers.

Of course, that only worked for a moment.

"Come on, we have to talk about the possibilities," Y/n says when they pull away, and Hermione crawls up to her, resting her forehead against hers.

"As long as you keep your hand in mine, we'll either go down together or survive"

Y/n knew better than to keep poking Hermione about a topic she didn't like. Which was, of course, death.

Hermione looked back at the mirror, and for a moment she swore Y/n stood behind her, smiling.

She took a few deep breaths, focusing her mind back on reality as the light hummed softly above her head.

Her hand grasped the photo gently as she shut off the light and exited the bathroom, walking into the small area that was only lit by the muted TV.

Ron was still in his deep sleep, snoring like nothing was wrong. When everything was wrong.

"I can't do this" Hermione whispers to his unconscious form as she stares at him. Ron's breathing was slow and calm, while hers was fast and earth-shattering.

Her ring finger seemed to burn as the cold metal latched to her skin, trying to stake its claim when it had nothing to take from her.

One person had claimed every part of her body with kisses and caresses full of promises of a life together that hadn't come.

Hermione placed the photo on the dresser as she ripped out a piece of hotel stationary paper and took the pen beside it.

She didn't cry, but guilt did fill her chest. She had tried her best to forget Y/n for him, but it wasn't fair to be unhappy with someone who was nothing but kind to her.

'I'm sorry'

The ring bounced slightly when she placed it on top of the note. Her eyes fell back to the photo when she grabbed her wallet from the bedside table and placed it inside. She didn't want to lose it again.

Hermione moved around the room silently as she packed her duffel bag and changed into better clothing. It only took her ten minutes or so to be standing near the door, looking back at Ron's sleeping form with a regretful expression.

"Goodbye" she whispers as she slips through the doorway and shuts it quietly behind her. The hallway was dim and vacant as she walked a few feet before apparating.

She found herself at the doors of The Three Broomsticks, it was loud inside as the smell of peppermint and cinnamon filled her nose before she even walked in.

Her duffel bag made a noise when Hermione hiked it up before opening the entrance. No one paid attention to her as she walked to the bar and took a seat at it.

Madam Rosmerta spotted her as soon as she sat down and placed her bag near her feet. She walked over with a knowing smile as she glanced down at her finger. Bare.

"What can I get you Ms.Granger?" she asks as she leans over the bar to hear her better. Hermione thought a moment and looked back at her with a small smile in return.

"Do you still sell that drink that she liked?" Hermione asks, silently confirming what everyone knew was going to happen when they saw the engagement announced in the newspaper.

"Of course" Rosmerta replies as she pushes away from the bar and walks to the back. Hermione pulled out her wallet and went to pay when she returned with the mug but was quickly thwarted with a simple 'it's on the house'.

Hermione was soon left to her devices as she took a sip of the drink, the taste of Y/n's lips raced to the front of her mind.

Her wallet laid on the bar top, and the corner of the Polaroid stuck out, enticing her to look at it again. So she did.

It now sat between her and the mug, moving in the dim lights as it replayed for maybe the millionth time.

As time went on, the cup eventually emptied, and Hermione found herself tracing Y/n's face with a heart full of ache.

"How are you?"

She looked up to find Rosmerta filling her mug again, which Hermione tried to pay for but was quickly stopped.

"I don't know how to answer that" she replied as the older woman looked down at the picture giving a sad smile.

She and Y/n had grown close while she was alive, or before she went missing. Rosmetra took it hard when she got the news.

"Sometimes I can still see you two in that booth" the older witch whispers as she points to a vacant table in the corner. Hermione chuckled softly at the memories.

When they looked back at one another, Madam Rosmetra gave a puzzled look when she saw the expression of conflict that laced the former Gryffindor's face.

"What is it?" she asked to which Hermione looked back at the photo and sighed softly. A single thought had been echoing in her mind since the war ended..and maybe it was just delusional hope.

"Do you...do you think she could still be alive?"

That question has been asked many times by different people. It was strange that Y/n was the only body that hadn't been found, but officials said she was most likely destroyed by one of the many vaporizing spells.

"Maybe, there's nothing wrong with a little hope" Rosmetra replied as Hermione looked back up at her, who now seemed to be thinking deeply about something.

"Do you mind if I post something on the bulletin board?" Hermione asks as she gestures over to the hanging board near the doorway. Rosmetra nodded as she was called over by another customer.

Now left alone, she grabbed her duffel bag and pulled out a small piece of paper, and a pen. Her heart thumped as she scribbled something quick but to the point.

Hermione downed the last of the drink and stood up, leaving a big tip for Rosmetra on the bar as well. She strolled over to the bulletin and found a spare push-tack, her eyes wandering to find an open space.

She soon hung her note on the board, taking a step back to look at it. It was in the middle, the Polaroid paperclipped to the piece of paper that simply said:

'Come Home - H'

Hermione stared at it another moment before slipping out into the cold night, the streetlights were dim as she walked towards an Inn down the street.

Her heart thumped softly as she thought about a reunion that would never come. At least not in life.

"I'll never forget you" she whispered into the air, her breath puffing visibly in front of her.

Even as she walked away, she could still hear Y/n's laugh as the Polaroid went through its endless loop.

A part of Hermione knew that her laugh would welcome her into the next journey of life. As much as she hated to think it, it seemed like paradise.

Maybe...

[haruharuz]

Episode #01 / ??

Is life fucking you with a cactus? Do you not know where the fuck to start with getting your shit together? Join the club. I've failed probably a hundred different types of challenges and life transformations. Doing so has taught me exactly how to get my shit together over the years.

The tasks are random and customized to my personal experiences, you can add or remove whatever doesn't fit your lifestyle. I have added detailed instructions or links for those that need help with knowing exactly what to do. There is no "Start date" or "end date" you just do what tasks fit into your lifestyle. These things don't even have to be done on the same day.

TASK LIST #001:

-> Clean The Kitchen Sink & Counters: Wash any dishes or place them in the dishwasher, get a rag or sponge & a toothbrush you don't need, take dish soap or disinfectant multi-surface cleaner (i used pine sol) and scrub the sink. Take the toothbrush and get any small areas (especially behind the sink and faucet) with it. Rinse the rag and wipe it down. Remove any trash / random items from the counters and use a rag with soap to wipe down. Try to get underneath the microwave/whatever else if you can. Any items that were on the counters, find a home for them or place them back on the counter where they belong.

-> At-Home Gel / Polish / Whatever Pedicure : Go on youtube or tiktok and find the instructions for whatever supplies you have.

-> Clean your bathroom drawers and counters: Start with the counter, remove anything unnecessary and throw away any trash. Use a spray cleaner or disinfectant cleaner and a rag/sponge. Scrub the grime off from the sink and use the toothbrush you had earlier to get any nitty gritty areas. Then, open your bathroom drawers and have a small bag (grocery bag, trash bag) near. Look at each item and decide whether you need/want it or not. Throw anything that is expired away, find a place for everything that makes sense. You can optionally wipe the inside of the drawers with disinfectant if you'd like.

-> Buy floss / floss picks / water flosser and place it somewhere VISIBLE . Floss before you brush your teeth that night.

-> Create a Meal Plan / Grocery Plan: Look on youtube, tiktok, or whatever you'd like and find some easy meals you know you can reliably make and eat even on a bad day. When you go grocery shopping, make sure to have at least two kinds of fruit, some veggies, and something that is insanely easy to eat. I have frozen burritos in my fridge right now, they may not be the "healthiest" but it doesn't matter. Start the change today not tomorrow and keep that mindset in your head. It doesn't matter if the change is literally just that you ate an apple today. Make that change now.

[stxrslxt]

being a kook and bringing jj to the country club as ur date!! only for topper or kelce to say some shit about him being a pogue and how he's not welcome there—doesn't really matter since you're ending it by letting him fuck you in the storage closet near the club's bathroom, telling him you'll always want him with you (and that you love his pogue dick lol) <33

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

he’d be so pissed off, n ready to punch anything in sight so u’d decide to let him get off the excess energy.

“c’mon babe, lemme punch him. I swear I’ll be real quick okay.. I just.. just wanna punch him!” he’d ramble as u lead him to an empty old cleaners closet.

“punch him later. for now I think there’s other ways for you to get your anger out.” he’d looks confused for a sec but then it dawns on him.

“yeah okay. fuck yeah.” he’d push u into the closet n kiss u, all wet n sloppy. “Can’t believe they said that shit man.” he’d seethe as he ripped ur panties clean off.

“they’re kooks jayj, it’s what they do.” you reason, though ur finding it hard to keep ur composure as he’s now sliding his dick into ur folds.

“I happen to know a very nice kook. she’s fuckin’ tight as well- shit.” all of his movements are rushed n fumbly. he’s still seeping with rage.

“Don’t fucking belong here.” he’d growl snarkily while also pistoning into you with great force. “nobody wants me here.”

“I want you here.” u’d do ur best to reassure but its hard to stay on task when ur having ur guts effectively rearranged.

“just me ‘n my stupid pogue dick.” he’d snarl.

“don’t know about you. but i fucking love this pogue dick.”

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unsolicited 18

Warnings: bad self-thought/talk, bullying, insults, low self-esteem, money problems, noncon, coercion, cum, some untagged sexual and dark elements.

Wouldn’t mind some feedback! Lloyd was driving me nuts so I had to do it. Thank you in advance 💜

Masterlist

With nothing else left on your list, you take the time to bask in the steam of a well-earned shower. You spent much of the last hour scrubbing the grout in the downstairs bathroom and now your hips ache in the heat of the water. You sigh and let the downpour trickle past your shoulders, lapping over the curves of your body.

Lloyd’s been AWOL much of the day. It isn’t much different from his previous absence but the threat of his appearance is always in the back of your mind. Your thighs tingle as you think of the day before, the smell of window cleaner and the sensation of prickly hair on soft skin.

You groan and crank off the faucet. With any luck, you’ll be able to wind down early and get some decent sleep. The longer you’re there, the less you think of your husband. It’s only what’s ahead that keeps you up. A divorce, of course, and then… when Lloyd’s done with humiliating you…

You wrap yourself in the soft towel, the water dripping off you onto the plush bath mat. You close the shower door and pat yourself dry lazily. You yawn and drag your feet across the tile, pausing at the slightly ajar door… didn’t you shut that?

You enter the bedroom. He was definitely in here. You near the bed, a red velvet dress speckled with tiny gems is spread out beneath a piece of stationary with the initials LH in the frame. “7pm.”

What now?

You check your phone. It’s only six. You have some time. You look over the dress, feeling the fabric with your fingertips as you stand in the towel. You know he’ll be looking for any reason to be disappointed so you better look good.

You get ready with some urgency. Being late would be the first of many gripes you don’t want to hear. You feel entirely unprepared as you try to wake yourself up from the afterglow of the shower. So much for a cozy bedtime.

The dress fits, if a little tight at the hips and a little too showy in the bust. You adjust your bra and check your profile in the mirror. Oh god, does the slit really go that high. You step into the heels and take a few steps to gain your balance. You look okay? Presentable.

You merge at quarter to. You’re on time. Ahead of time. That will make up for everything else. You get to the stairs and hold on tight to the railing as you descend, a step at the time as you fear falling on your face. It isn’t until you reach the bottom that you wonder what all this is for.

Then the anxiety hits. You pace, nearly bending your ankles, heels clicking in an echo around the airy foyer. You chew your thumb but stop yourself as you worry about messing up your lipstick. What if this is all just another ploy to embarrass you? What are you wearing? You look ridiculous…

“Ah, you got my message,” Lloyd enters behind you.

You turn and nearly double take. He’s in a sleek suit, a dark blue jacket with precisely tailored pants, a black shirt with a hint of matching navy under the collar. He has the usual gold ring on his pinky and a chain around his neck. Usually well-kempt, he looks immaculate as his silhouette takes the cut well.

“Uh, yeah,” you say awkwardly, folding your hands before you, “are we going somewhere?”

He scoffs and doesn’t answer you as he goes to the closet and pulls out his jacket. He shrugs it on and searches out an embroidered scarf. He wraps it once around his neck and reaches in again, pulling out an ivory curt trimmed in matching faux fur. He opens it to you as he turns on his heel.

You cross to him and poke your arms into the sleeve with a thank you. He is oddly laidback. There’s some trick. You know it. You face him as he buttons his coat and tucks in the scarf.

“Dinner,” he says curtly.

“Alright,” you agree, knowing you have any other choice.

“My treat,” he pokes your cheek playfully, “I don’t hear a thank you daddy.”

You curve your lips in an effort to hide your irritation, “thank you, daddy.”

“Mm,” he drags his finger down and keeps you from closing the coat as he takes in your figure, “if you’re wearing panties, take them off now.”

You flinch and follow his eyeline. You look down at yourself and sigh. You pull up your dress and hook your thumbs in your panties, pulling them down and stepping out of them. He snatches them and stretches them, letting them go so they fly across the room.

“You can take the bra off too,” he brings his hands up to frame your chest, “let’s not be late. I made a reservation.”

You huff and take off the coat. You hand it over and reach back to unhook your bra. You slip it off beneath the top of the dress and pull it from beneath the velvet. That you throw yourself before grabbing back the coat.

“Ready,” you declare breathily.

“You look good enough to eat,” he winks and passes you, opening the door as he waits for you to follow. His gallantry further dismantles you as you step outside. His hand swings down and he spanks you, groping you through the coat, “mmm, I don’t know if I’ll make it to dessert.”

He shuts the door and gestures you onward. You march down the walk and to the long driveway. He unlocks the flashy new red corvette as you round the hood. You get in on the passenger's side as he drops behind the wheel. He takes his time adjusting the mirrors and seat.

“You like the new wheels?” He asks.

“Um, sure, I don’t know much about cars.”

“Sits low,” he wiggles in his seat, pushing his legs wide as he turns the keys, “comfy, huh?”

“Yeah,” you lean back into the leather. It’s not as stiff as your old beater, or as cramped.

He flips the engine and rests his arm across the space between your seats as he backs out. You watch his estate as he rolls away and your eyes trail over the barren hedges. He stops at the end of his property line, peer back and forth along the street. He turns out and lets his hand fall down onto your thigh.

He steers with his other hand casually as his fingers walk along the velvet, gathering it until he touches bare skin. He pinches you and spreads his hand over your thighs, prodding between them.

“Spread em, baby cakes,” he shoves his hand down until you part your knees, “I need a little something to wet the appetite.”

Your eyes meet his in the rearview as he gives you a leer. His fingers delve between your folds and he tuts as he feels along you dry lips. 

“Come on and get wet for daddy,” he twirls his fingers around your clit as you inhale sharply and squirm, “that’s it, baby.”

He rubs you harder, his other hand gripping the wheel until the leather squeaks. Your thighs quiver and you grasp the door as your nerves ping together. He slides his fingers down again, through the slicks sheen that’s risen. He drags his fingertips back up and flicks your clit so you spasm.

He clucks and draws his hand away. You watch him press his fingers to his mustache and spread the glisten across the short hair. It’s as revolting as it is disarming. You sit stunned, with your legs wide.

“Baby, you’re gonna wanna cover yourself up,” he stops at a sign, “anyone could see in here.”

[eeveebitches]

lacy. || Roman Roy || smut

Pairing: Sub!Roman Roy x F!Dom!Reader Summary: Roman inquires about your lacy panties.

Word count: 2.137

18+ only! More under the cut,

Warning(s): SMUT, aka 18+ only! Sub Roman, degradation, panty kink (roman wearing said panties) coming in pants/panties, light praise kink

Summary: You have a gift for Roman, and he seems to enjoy it.

A/n: finished writing this like... a few minutes ago so enjoy!

_______________________

He's... staring.

Quietly, with intent you have no knowledge of, Roman is staring at you as you gently put on your lacy black panties. His eyes follow the movements of your hands, watching you push your legs through the leg openings one by one. It's like he's transfixed, eyes glassed over and lips sucked in between his teeth as he observes you with a light frown.

Your partially undried skin shimmers as you pull the garment up fully, giving Roman a quizzical look. "Everything okay, Romes?" The awkward nod and 'uhuh' he gives you are unconvincing. As you grab your bra from inside the bathroom, you glance over your shoulder. 

He's just now dressed, hair tousled and a frazzled look on his face as he breaks his stare to instead look at the ground. "Are you sure? You seem a little weird," you ask as you step out of the bathroom, tactfully putting on your matching black bra. Roman's gaze doesn't leave the floor, which strikes you as a bit odd. Before you stepped out of the shower he seemed his usual, vulgarly talkative self.

"D'you even like me? Or d'you just show up to my fuckin' apartment to use my shit like some homeless guy in a motel stealing tiny soaps." 

You laugh from inside the shower, glancing through the chic curtains to watch his darkened silhouette. The sharp noise of his pants unzipping catches your attention as you scrub your body clean of pollution and sweat. "Are you seriously taking a piss while I'm showering?"

You watch the shape of his head fall back a bit, and he's fucking peeing. "You couldn't even wait a few minutes to pee? What's happened to privacy, Romes?" you ask through a laugh, continuing to foam up the luxurious soap Roman owns. You're sure that the cleaners simply replace it whenever it's almost finished, since every time you shower here it's freshly opened.

"My bathroom, my pee rules. Plus, we have weird ass no-touchy sex like, all the fucking time. Is me peeing near you really the limit? That's just weird, y'know," he rambles, and you can hear him finish up. The sound of a zipper pulling up, together with the gentle flush of his way too expensive toilet, let you know he's done. "Just get out of the bathroom before I spank you," you joke, to which he replies with a lighthearted "yes, master".

"Where'd you get the, uhh, set from?" With a raised brow you look at Roman as he fiddles with his cuticles. You shrug, grabbing an old shirt of yours from Roman's closet. "I dunno, some random lingerie place. I think I got it as a birthday present for myself, actually," you hum as you struggle to get your head through the shirt. 

It's a shirt you've had for far too long, but its softness and durability have kept you from giving it away. Well, until Roman basically claimed it for his growing collection of your belongings. He always jokes that he keeps the items there so that you "can't wear them when you're with other guys", a clumsy attempt at masking his sense of ownership over your company (and his raging insecurity issues, of course). 

"Why do you ask, by the way? Something up with what I'm wearing?" you yet again ask.

He throws himself back, letting his back bounce onto his mattress as he stares at his plain ceiling. "Nothing, just fuckin', I dunno, thinking about stupid shit," he mumbles out. You put your plans of searching for pants to wear on pause, instead joining Roman next to him. Your head hits his fluffy mattress, and he looks to the side. Looks at your face, scanning your expression, mind racing with thoughts you still have no idea about.

You hoist yourself up a bit, resting your head on your held up hand as you now slightly look down at him. His eyelashes flutter as he looks up at you with those hypnotizing hazel eyes. You don't say anything. You simply give him a look that makes it clear to him you won't talk again until he does.

"Just, this is so fucking dumb, but are they like... soft? Or," as he watches your brows raise yet again he flusters, "never mind, god, I sound like a fucking creep. Just forget about it," he mumbles out, looking away from you and back at the ceiling.

"That's not dumb at all. They are soft, just not as comfortable as boxers, so I rarely wear them when I'm just relaxing at home." Roman hums in reply, mind obviously still clouded. You awkwardly chuckle at his strange mood. "Do you wanna, like, wear them or something?"

The moment you utter those words, he shoots up, like he was electrocuted by your question. "Wait, do you wanna wear them?"

Roman lets out a nervous giggle, wiping his hands against his thighs. "No, why the fuck would I wear your fuckin' underwear? I'm not that much a freak, even if I seem like it. Plus, my dick is the size of a fucking baguette, it'd just-- it'd probably tear the lace the moment I even try to put it on. Like Hulk wearing a teeny tiny shirt, y'know?"

"Roman, if you wanna try on my panties you can just ask."

He stills at that. Stares at you some more. First doubtfully, like you were baiting him into an obvious trap. Then sheepishly, face growing hotter as he seriously considers your offer. "And what, you wouldn't mind my grown man dick 'n ball sweat ruining them or some shit?" 

"Nope," you answer back, and without another word you start shimmying the black fabric off of your body. You giggle at the way Roman stiffens when you drop the undergarment on his lap, eyes wide in shock. "You're-- you're fucking with me, right? No way you get yucked out about me peeing while you shower, but are fine with me wearing your panties like a perverted stalker," he reasons, hands shaking as he hesitates in grabbing the pair of panties.

You wrap an arm around his waist, pulling him close enough to give you easy reach for his ear. "I wanna see you wear them for me," you whisper against the shell of his ear, revelling in the way he shivers. He lets out a breathy whine, hands ever-so-carefully grabbing onto the delicate garment. He rubs the fabric between his index finger and thumb, cautious yet curious.

"You're gonna be the death of me," he groans out before quickly making his way to the bathroom, panties clutched in his hand. With a small 'click!' he locks said door, leaving you confused for just a moment. 

The muffled sound of Roman removing his pants is the only background noise you have as you sit and wait, legs crossed to keep from getting too cold. You're not totally surprised that Roman's interested in your underwear. He's always had a thing with your clothes, keeping your worn shirts under his pillow to sniff them and jerk of or... something like that.

When you first found your tank top stashed underneath a pillow of his, that's what he tensely joked, anyway. With a high-pitched laugh he snatched the top away, telling you, "don't mind that, I just sniff your clothes and jerk off to it. I even cum on the clothes, so those bleach stains are actually, uh, my semen. You don't mind me using your clothes as a cum rag, right?"

You had simply laughed at him, encouraging him to keep it up, whether it was a joke. He huffed out a 'maybe I will', back then, face smug but eyes betraying just how much effect the trading of words had.

The bathroom door slowly unlocks, and Roman walks out. He looks the same as he did minutes before, the only noticeable difference being the obvious outline of his cock pressing against his trousers. He shifts uncomfortably, looking everywhere except for at you. "Well, I'm wearing them. Happy?"

With a sly grin you stand up and walk over to him, letting out a low whistle as you look him up and down. "I don't see the panties, Roman. For all I know you're fucking with me," you say. He fidgets with the tips of his fingers as he looks down. "Then don't believe me, whatever, not like I give a shit."

You keep quiet, instead lightly placing your hand against his chest. His breathing falters as you slowly let your hand go lower and lower, until the tips of your fingers reach the top of his pants. "Can you at least let me check? Wanna make sure you're being honest with me," you hum out, voice dangerously low and dangerously close to his ear.

"Hah-- fuck, sure, be my fuckin' guest," Roman gasps out. Your hand slowly goes to his zipper, and with your other hand you carefully open his pants up.

And holy shit, he's actually wearing your panties.

The darkness of them contrasts deliciously against his pale bottom half, the intricate lace detailing resting perfectly on his skin. The upper parts of his cock are on full display as they peek from above the fabric. With a singular finger you wipe at the slit, collecting a bit of his already leaking pre-cum. You chuckle at the desperate moan he lets out, and casually push your finger into his mouth.

Obediently, he licks it up. The sounds he's making around your finger are sinful by themselves, but the way his hips involuntarily thrust up leaves your head reeling with lust. "My god, how desperate can you be?"

He groans as you pull your finger away and wipe his saliva off on his trousers. You allow yourself to slowly stroke his cock through the panties, enjoying every twitch. "You're throbbing right now, all because you're wearing my panties. How does that make you feel, Roman?" You allow yourself to slowly stroke his cock through the panties, 

"Filthy," he moans out, head falling to nuzzle into your shoulder. Following his movements, you wrap your free arm around his neck, pulling him further into you. You laugh at the sound of him smelling you and moaning at your scent. "This is another level of pathetic, I hope you know that. You're getting off on wearing women's underwear. What would your father say?"

He gasps at both your words and the way your grip tightens on his length. You can feel your panties moisten as you pull them up all the way, trying to have all of his cock covered by the thin fabric. It works for the most part, and it was definitely worth the slight bit of effort. 

The added friction of the fabric rubbing against the sensitive tip of his cock sends hum into a gasping frenzy. His moans are directly against your ear as he nuzzles himself further into you, grasping onto you for dear life as you rub him to near completion. "The panties look so pretty on you, but that doesn't change the fact that it's disgustingly perverted. You're an obsessive, panty-loving freak, aren't you?"

"I am, fu--uck, I am."

You cackle at his desperation. "And only for me, right? I doubt you have the balls to be this openly pitiful around anyone else," you purr into his ear. "Only f'r you, only you," he moans out, hips rutting to match the pace of your strokes. 

"Are you gonna cum for me, Roman? Gonna make a mess in my pretty panties?" 

He nods ferociously, hips stuttering in their movements. "Wanna hear you beg to cum, pretty boy," you coo.

"Please, fuck, please let me cum, 'm gonna be soo good, 'n just-- cum in your, fucking, god," he whines out. You use the arm wrapped around him to instead hold his face, forcing him to look at you. "Say you're gonna cum in my panties, Roman."

"'M g'na cum in your, ah, your panties. 'M gonna fucking cum and make a-- make a mess and be so disgusting, j'st for you."

"That's a good boy. Cum for me?"

He lets out a longwinded, low moan as he finishes, cock twitching as you feel your panties soak with his sperm. Desperately, he gasps for breath as he lets his head fall onto your shoulder. He's lightly heaving, face flushed beyond belief and beads of sweat running down his forehead.

You give the top of his head a kiss. "You okay, Romes?"

"Yeah, just... fuck, give me a second to, uh, not die," he mumbles between haggard breaths. You simply hum in response, gently stroking his hair as he catches his breath.

After a few moments, he looks up, eyes glassy, and asks,

"Do I really look pretty in these?"

"The prettiest."