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strangersteddierthings · 6 months

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Sequel to Good People - The fic in wherein Wayne doesn't like Steve and overheard a conversation he shouldn't have. Here's the aftermath of that :3

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

Wayne had stayed in his bedroom long after he heard the boys leave. Eddie had knocked on his door to let him know he'd be staying at Steve's and to not expect him back until late tomorrow, a courtesy he'd never shown until after he'd been the victim of a manhunt back in spring. Wayne never asked him to do that but he thinks Eddie picked up on how worried Wayne would get if he were gone for any amount of time.

Eddie's always been good at reading people when he bothers to pay attention to them. Maybe that should have been enough reason for him to give pause to his dislike of the Harrington boy, instead of needing to overhear the boy crying about how he thinks there's something rotten deep within him that only Wayne can sense.

He'd been so sure he knew what kind of person Steve Harrington was. Eddie had been hung up on boys just like him pert-near his whole life, Wayne thinks, and it's never ended differently.

It's a Tuesday night and his friends usually gather at the bar on Friday nights, but Wayne needs to get out of the trailer to think. A beer might help. So, he grabs his keys and heads out.

He's been a regular at this bar since before he was even old enough to drink. Used to come with his pa, may he rest in peace, just to get out of the house. He's been a patron longer than any of the staff have worked there, he realizes.

"Hello Linda," Wayne greets as he takes a seat at the bar instead of at his usual table. He'd done a cursory glace when he came in and confirmed none of his drinking buddies were in before choosing the bar.

"This isn't your usual day," Linda says, leaning a hip on the counter, "but it's always a pleasure to see you."

"I got some thinkin' to do," Wayne replies and Linda nods and moves away, returning soon with a bottle of his usual beer. She picks up the bottle open and removes the cap before setting the drink down in front of him.

"Need a sounding board, hun?" She asks.

Wayne does a quick survey of the bar again but it's pretty quiet so he returns his gave to Linda and says, "if you wouldn't mind too much hearin' about how an old man might have messed up."

Linda laughs. "You aren't even half a decade older than me, so you best not be sprouting that 'old man' nonsense around me, 'cause I am not some old lady."

"Terribly sorry, Linda. I'm just really feelin' like an old fool."

A small frown comes to Linda's face then. "Now what could you have possibly done?"

"Well, I guess I'm tryin' to figure out if I did mess up. Eddie's got a friend and I don't trust 'im. Thought I had good reason not to, but, well, I overheard somethin' I wasn't supposed ta and now I'm not sure."

Linda hums, "hmm, that doesn't sound like you, judging someone unrightly. You are usually a good read about people."

"I'll admit, I haven't bothered to spend enough time with the boy to, uhh, judge him."

"Wayne Munson," Linda scolds, "you best not be telling me you judged that boy because of other people."

Judging by Linda's raising brow line, he thinks his guilt must be clear on his face. "You know Eddie, and how people have treated him. And with what he just went through- I just want 'im safe. Sure, his new friend graduated last year, but he was on the basketball team his whole career. And I'm jus' supposed ta believe this one boy didn't side with the group who started the manhunt?"

"Unless you've got evidence otherwise, yes," Linda says, brows furrowed.

Wayne sighs. "I ain't got proof. I got a lot of people sayin' he's good, actually. But it's the Harrington boy. The same boy Eddie would come home and complain 'bout. Harrington, Hagan, Hargrove, though I shouldn't speak ill of the dead. All them boys treatin' Eddie like he wasn't worth nothin' until they wanted somethin' form him."

Linda's mouth is almost a perfectly straight line with how much she's pursed her lips the more he talks, but she doesn't interrupt and no customer calls for her, so he continues.

"And you know what Richard Harrington was like. I know y'all only shared one school year together, but Janice wasn't any better, and she was your year, wasn't she?" Linda gives him one nod in response. "That boy's a product of them. I- You can't fault me for thinkin' differently."

"So, when do you expect Eddie to end up in prison?"

The question throws Wayne and fills him with anger at the same time. "Now, Linda, I ain't likin' what you are implyin'."

"I ain't implyin' nothing," she says, using the same tone with him that he did with her. "I'm applying your logic. Eddie's a product of his parents, ain't he? Al's in prison, and his mama's long gone, bless her soul. And since Eddie ain't sick, last I heard, he must be following after his daddy."

The anger leaves him then, and all he's left with is shame. "Point made. And if I'm bein' fully honest with ya, I don't even need ya to defend that boy. That thing I overheard. That what's eatin' at me. He called me good people."

Linda softens, shoulders dropping, "you are good people, hun."

"That boy told my Eddie that I'm 'good people', and that his parents are bad ones, and I. I don't know what to do about that."

"He thinks his own parents are bad?"

Wayne nods, "is what he said. Thinks I can somehow sense he's also rotten just by association."

"There's nothing to it, then," Linda says, like they've already talked out the tangled mess that is Wayne's thoughts on Steve Harrington and have reached a conclusion. Well, perhaps Linda already has. She's always been bright, and she's usually right. "You, Wayne Robert Munson, need to apologize to that boy. The guilt and shame's gonna put you into your cups otherwise."

Wayne nods slowly, though he isn't even sure if he agrees or is just acknowledging what she said before he takes a long pull from his bottle before lowering both his arms to rest on the counter as he replies, "You're right as usual, Linda my dear. I just gotta let go of the fact he's Richard Harrington's son and try and see just Steve."

"Damn right. Eddie might be Al's by birth, but you raised him and he turned out alright. Maybe Steve got the same treatment. Had his own Wayne around to raise him right."

There might be a bit of truth to that. He's heard enough talk about Steve Harrington over the years to think that. One of his drinking buddies used to be Jim Hopper. He's heard about the amount of parties he'd had to go shut down at the Harrington's house, with no parents to be seen. (Always Jim's biggest gripe back then. "Where's this kids goddamn parents!?) Wayne always assumed their kid just took advantage every time his parents were gone, but maybe it's the opposite. Maybe they were always gone, and Steve had parties to not be alone in his house.

Linda's right. There is nothing to it. He needs to talk to Steve, properly apologize, and go from there.

"It ain't an easy thing, admittin' you might be wrong," Wayne sighs.

Linda reaches across the counter and places a hand on Wayne's arm just below his wrist. Wayne looks up from where he'd ended up staring at his bottle, making eye contact with her. "If your boy is friends with this boy, it's for a reason. Just give him a chance. You are one of the good ones, but even we can have a lapse in judgment now and then. Doesn't make you bad, makes you human."

"Ain't no one perfect but the good Lord," Wayne says and Linda nods in agreement.

"Alright. I'll leave you to your beer and your thoughts for now, but you best keep me updated on your situation. I wanna know how it goes," Linda retracts her hand and heads down the counter to check on the few other people sitting about nursing drinks.

Wayne sits in his thoughts more than he drinks, so by the time he's done with the beer it's warm but that's fine. He will talk to the Harrington kid, but he wants to talk to Eddie first. He owes his nephew that much, and he does recall Eddie saying something to the effect of 'he'll come around' to Steve, and Wayne wants to tell Eddie he'll try.

Also he doesn't want to just corner the boy after he's been somewhat intimidating intentionally. He's going to get Eddie to ask if Steve'll talk to him.

True to his word, Eddie returns home late the next day. The clock says it's almost 6 when Eddie finally comes through the front door. If he's surprised to see Wayne awake, he doesn't show it. He does work the graveyard shift, and he's got a shift at 10 tonight, usually wakes up two hours before his shift. He'd wanted to make sure he caught Eddie, though, so he's been up since three.

"Eddie, you got a minute?" Wayne says.

"Sure. What's up?" Eddie says as he pulls off his jacket, depositing it on the nearest surface before plopping sideways on the couch so he's facing Wayne.

"I gotta come clean. I overheard some of what you and Steve were talkin' about," Wayne says, because he's a man of his word and he's always been good at doing the hard thing if it also turns out to be the right thing. He's got to be honest with Eddie, so he can be honest with himself. "Heard Harr- Steve talkin' 'bout how he thinks I'm a good person, and his parents aren't."

Eddie's quiet for a moment, blinking owlishly back at him while he thinks. "Oh. Umm. Sorry. I just- I think this is the first time I've heard you say Steve's name."

"Not the part I thought you'd focus on," Wayne huffs a laugh, "but I owe your boy an apology and I was hopin' you could help me make it happen."

"My boy- what is happening," Eddie drops his voice to whisper the question to himself.

"What's happening is I'm doin' the thing I always told you ta do. Taking accountability and fixin' my mistake."

"Oh. Oh!" Eddie narrows his eyes at Wayne, "you've made an ass out of me. All those times I assured Steve you were just being standoffish and you were- what were you doing?"

"Intentionally keepin' the boy at a distance 'cause I thought he was gonna hurt you. I sure as hell ain't been friendly. I been judging him because I knew his parents, thinkin' about how an apple don't fall far from the tree," Wayne stops, giving pause to see if Eddie will speak but he isn't. He's just staring at Wayne like he's a puzzle. "It was brought to my attention that it's mighty unfair to judge someone 'cause of how their parents act."

Eddie's brow furrows and his lips purse. It makes him think of Linda. She'd made the exact same face. "I- Jesus fuck this is weird, but I. I think I'm mad at you. Disappointed."

Eddie doesn't say it with an angry tone, and his face still looks more puzzled than mad, but the sentence feels like a kick to the chest anyway. Eddie and he have never been mad at each other, not in the eight years Eddie's lived here with him. They've been worried and scared for each other that, or mad at someone or something else that they take out on each other, but never mad at each other.

"You've every right to be."

Eddie stands from the couch, paces down the hallway, and Wayne thinks this might be the end of any conversation tonight, but instead Eddie comes storming back up the hall. "So, what, did you take me in expecting me to be my dad!?"

"No. He mighta contributed to your birth, but we both know that man ain't nurtured you a day in his life."

"Yeah, well, Steve's parents didn't raise him either, so all this has been bullshit! You made Steve think he's, he's broken and a bad person! And," Eddie's eyes are wet and he's angry but also about to cry. Wayne hasn't seen him like this in a long time. Not since the day they learned Al was in prison, fifteen years with a chance for parole if he's on his best behavior. Eddie had been so angry, and sad, and hurt by the news. Eddie's like that now, worked up so much he's repeating himself as he hiccups his words out around the lump in this throat, "And, and you made me help him feel that way! Because I didn't take him serious when he said, said you didn't like him! I thought you were being, being a dad, all fake gruff to intimidate the guy I like but it's- you were- FUCK!"

Wayne lets him yell. He deserves it, and Eddie needs it. Eddie's not saying anything untrue. He takes in what Eddie is yelling at him; Steve's parents didn't raise him, and how Wayne's cold shoulder must have added to whatever else Steve has going on in his life.

"I, I h-held him while he b-bawled into my shirt last night! He, he thinks- and you, you didn't even trust me! T-trust my own j-judgment of, of Steve! I, I need- I can't-" Eddie doesn't finish the sentence. He turns on his heel and storms back down the hall, the slamming of his door finalizing this conversation.

To say that Wayne feels terrible is inadequate. He's hurt his boy, and he's hurt his boy's boy, and he's got no one to blame but himself.

Now he's got two apologies to make.

I tried to tag as many people as I could remember that expressed interest in a follow up fic. I am SO sorry if I missed you. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in the final part. I will only be tagging people who ask to be tagged going forward 'cause it's a lot of people to remember and my memory is garbage.

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @itsthestrangestthings @emofratboy @devondespresso @finntheehumaneater @loopholesinmydreams @yourmom-isgay @wrenisflying @emsgoodthinkin @messrs-weasley @madigoround @jackiemonroe5512 @gutterflower77 @zerokrox-blog @eriquin @samyuck @lunarmaruna @mugloversonly @kaij-basil-lionelli88

#steddie #my fic #wayne pov #wayne munson #eddie munson #honestly this didnt go the way i thought it would #so there will be a third and final part. Wayne's gonna make it right because he's a good uncle. A good dad.#SPOILER: steve doesnt even show up in this part so im not tagging him

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todomochi-uwu · 7 months

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Who (1/?) -J.Y & S.M

Pairing: Poly! Jeong Yunho x reader x Song Mingi

Genre: Angst, Smut

Warnings: This content is for a mature audience

Synopsis: You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you.

Other chapters: Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕

"Mingi, please. I think we should talk; I don't feel good and…" He was quick to cut you off.

"Y/n not right now, I'm tired."

You are always tired these days…

"Yunho, love do you want to go out and check out that new cafeteria? I heard they have…" He was quick to cut you off.

"Y/n not right now, I'm busy."

You are always busy these days...

Things haven't been the same in a while, always in a rush, always in a mood. You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you. It was a type of routine you had grown accustomed to, and even if it was killing you inside, the idea of being without them was way worse than the pain of their neglect. Cold, endless nights laying in a bed that was way too big for you; tasteless dinner plates that would end up in the trashcan or at the back of the fridge rotting. A home that was crumbling from its foundations, one that you had so desperately tried to patch up and fix by yourself. But in the end, you just had to face the cruel reality, that they don't care. You were not a priority; your relationship was at the bottom of their list.

That's how you ended up at Chan's apartment, in the middle of the night, with so much as your phone in your pocket and your heart in your hand. He had been your main support the last weeks, anything you wanted, anything you needed, no questions asked. Whenever you woke up crying, whenever you broke down in the middle of the day, Chan was always there to comfort you. And so, you laid there, in his chest, the aftermath of a movie night in which you had only cried twice, an important milestone.

The constant buzzing in the pocket of your pyjamas was making it quite hard for you to continue sleeping. You knew exactly who dared bother you so late at night, it had been the same callers every single night for the past month.

"Don't answer it." Chan's groggy voice filled your ears. He was right. You declined the call and turned off your phone.

But said-call had already done its job, you couldn't stop thinking about the phone, well the people behind it. Your phone was full of texts and missed calls, eight people behind them, because their friends were loyal like that.

They are so sorry.

Please talk to them.

Yunho is drowning himself in work.

Mingi doesn't even talk to us.

Funny it is. A few weeks ago, it seemed they could live perfectly fine without you; they could go on with their day without even glancing your way. You gave them every single piece of your being just to get crumbles in return. But at the same time, your heart is weak, it can’t help but break every time you read one of their texts, wondering if they miss you that much, if they are sorry, if maybe, just maybe, you should go back.

“Y/n… you are overthinking again.” Bang Chan said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“I know, I just feel bad, Chan. Maybe I overreacted, maybe if I tried a bit harder to talk to them…” There you were again, trying to justify their actions. Chan gave you the same stern look he had been giving you for weeks, every time you blamed yourself.

He got up, not mentioning the subject anymore. Tired of going on about the same subject, “Hey, are you hungry? I can make you something or we can order in.”

It would be a lie to say you were not enjoying Chan’s presence. Having someone to talk to, someone to have a meal with, even someone who sits next to you without being on their phone or computer, you miss not feeling alone. And even though you were heartbroken, you felt warm on the inside.

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

While you might be doing somewhat okay, the other parts of your relationship were not. The house was in complete silence, no matter the hour, no matter the day, no one would dare say a word, their mouths too busy sobbing every single time they remembered their sins, taking you for granted, neglecting you, breaking you.

Yunho would keep himself busy at the hospital, the idea of going back to a broken home simply made him nauseous, and even if the lack of food and the stress were killing him, he much rather endure that than face the harsh truth. Mingi wasn’t any better, endless nights spent in the office, acting as if he was reviewing cases, but the reality was that he just wanted a place to cry without anyone noticing him. Even the love between them was running cold. Fight after fight, they spat cruel words and thoughts trying to get all the hurt and anger out of their chests, blaming themselves, blaming each other. How did they not notice things were so wrong? How could they let things get so wrong?

“Oh, don’t act as if I'm the only one who wasn’t here, you slept at the office almost every day. I came home late, but you didn’t even come at all.” Yunho said, venom in his voice and a glass of whiskey in his hand.

Mingi scratched his forehead in frustration, he could feel the bile going up his throat. “Forgive me for trying to pay the bills, someone has to pay for the house, the student loans, the fucking food that’s on the table.”

“Fuck off, don’t you dare say I’m not bringing any money. Besides, you know that this is temporary while I finish my residency…”

And there the cycle began once again, a screaming match of arguments that never went anywhere, masking the true cause of their pain. Tears ran down their faces, their voices broke down more and more with each word they let out, Yunho's body trembled so much it hurt, while Mingi’s chest felt as if it was about to explode.

“I’m not okay, Yunho.” It was the first time any of them said it out loud, his voice was much raspier and heavier than the usual one.

“I'm not either, Mingi.” He whispered, fearing he would break down even more if he admitted it much louder.

“She left three weeks ago.”

Yunho could only nod.

“She’s not coming back, is she?”

“I don’t know, Mingi.”

#yunho angst #yunho smut #yunho x reader #mingi smut #mingi x reader #mingi angst #jeong yunho #song mingi #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez

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simplyreveries · 2 months

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Diasomnia boys with a reader that's really prone to panic attacks, but hides it really well?

Like, sometimes they get really jittery and stuff, but that's just them being them! It gets better, usually. If not, they go to the bathroom chill, even when they're literally going to die inside.

And they kinda knew cause they went on a boat date, then they just kinda started saying they were uncomfortable and stuff and they ended up having a huge panic attack, like how would they react?

malleus draconia

he is very observant, especially over someone like you. it's his own way of showing care and affection if anything. malleus usually seems to have a watchful eye over you-- your wellbeing is something he finds really important to him. he can quite easily tell how nervous and how much anxiety building up in you. with that being, however, he is a bit... awkward showing how much he does want to help you. he doesn't understand that part well. now, he doesn't express it, but it does he feels a strange and foreign sense of powerlessness because he wants to be able to magically take it all away.

malleus is incredibly gentle; he does go out of his way to still try even though he can't fully solve it for you. when he notices the jitteriness or even as soon as you seem to be unable to focus, if you're alright with the touch- he'll carefully slip his hand to hold yours and trace his thumb over the top of your hand. he will give you reassuring affirmations or looks. though, he tends to just slip you away from whatever you're around and give you the best sense of peace he can.

with that being said, that's what he prompts to- he knows you seemed to feel somewhat better during your times with him outside ramshackle at night, where you may find comfort just trying to ease your breathing outside. he'll be there, quiet but someone for you if you wish to speak. and once again, because this is still new for him- whatever you want practically goes because he just ultimately wants you to feel better. so even if that's space, stay in silence, or talk about something else to get your mind off it. he will gladly give any of it.

lilia vanrouge

lilia already has this caring and doting nature around him- and that always applies to you. he can sense what you're feeling from a mile away. he knows you so well already and only wants nothing more than to help you. lilia genuinely wants to be someone you can lean and rely on. despite the trouble or teasing to others he can bring- he is very careful around you. especially during the aftermath of any of them, he is ready to be there.

he is always seeming to check on you. when you seem to be bouncing your leg, fidgeting, biting your lip or nails- very quick to notice- he'll calmy hush a "do you want my help, dearest?" something of that sorts and give a reassuring smile. he never wants you to feel bad for it and make it any kind. he also wants the approval from you if you want or need him around to ease yourself.

when you've dealt with one, carefully, he'll try to ease and calm you down after the adrenaline high you were just experiencing. he'll always seem to have a caring smile on his face when he asks if you''ll let him hold you for a moment. i have a feeling his hugs, with the addition of soft humming or strokes are the epitome of safe.

silver

at first, he was new to handling these kinds of things- he felt completely unsure how to help when all he wanted to do was do just that. much like malleus, but honestly, probably even more so- his quiet nature can most likely prove to be some help when it comes to your panic nature. anything he says or does, even if he is a bit internally worried about how to handle it himself, is so gentle and soothing. it hurts him seeing how much you have to deal with- so he'll do everything and anything he can for you. in moments especially where you're talking to others and feeling anxious, he'll take over for you.

silver is protective by default; it only heightens around you. he wants nothing more than for you to be and feel safe. he is knight, he really couldn't push that part away from him if he tries. in the midst of the moment his focus is solely onto you. if you'd allow him, he hold your hands and let you squeeze them as tight as you want, trying to help guide you through it the best way he can. even if it's difficult and you feel like a mess, he is right there with a worried look and this aching desire to fix it for you.

after it slowly wears of, he might recommend and try coaxing you to fall asleep. he doesn't leave your side if your comfortable enough to allow yourself to. he'll lightly trace your arm and try to have you match your breathing with his.

sebek zigvolt

sebek would probably have the most confused time trying to help you- not in a bad way- like anyone else he wants to help you, but he has zero clue how to even begin the first few times. he gets so concerned and when he gets worried it comes out as loud unintentionally. or maybe even aggressive to others in a sense of thinking someone was bothering you. and clearly that's the last thing you would need, so he tries his best to be more cautious of himself for you. there are times where he's been kneeled in front of you sitting looking up to you with a "tell me what i can do for you" attitude. he gets so serious,,,

like silver, he's a knight and wants you with a sense of security- he doesn't want to feel like he failed you on that. he would go out of his way after he starts to slowly understand them- to spend his spare time reading about it and even go to lilia for help on comfort. so, at times like this during an instance on a date he would be ready all the more.

him trying to help you does feel rather by-the-book scientific ways of helping you get through it. but he genuinely tries and is solemn about it. he does stumble a bit nervously sometimes, because he still can't quite think straight when you're experiencing anything sorts of bad. but sebek does his absolute best.

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cupid-styles · 8 months

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silk and rope 2

ddlg harry and submissive/little y/n

in which feelings start to grow, y/n is impatient, and harry has to punish her (and someone says something they shouldn't).

word count: 6.7k

content warnings: daddy dom and little/sub y/n dynamics, smut!!!! (anal play, squirting, dirty talk, doggy style, cream pie/a little bit of cum play, use of a collar, y/n in her little space). as stated in the first part, there may be some things pertaining to bdsm/daddy dom relationships that are wrong, but I did my best with researching!!! pls don't hate me if something isn't right!!!!!!

masterlist | read part one

talk to me

. . .

The next morning, Y/N wakes up to an empty bed.

She's sweating, though, and she realizes it's because her body is covered in almost every fuzzy blanket in her apartment, including her comforter. With her eyes still shut, she stretches her legs out and rolls to the side, only for her face to be met with a piece of paper on the pillow next to hers.

She hums in confusion as she wiggles her hands out of the burrito of blankets she's encased in, flipping open the note.

Y/N,

Good morning, I hope you slept well. I had to leave early for work, but I checked your calendar downstairs and saw that you don't have to go in until 2, so I left you sleeping. (Just so you know, I slept on the couch — we hadn't spoken about boundaries after sex so I didn't want to make you uncomfortable in any way.)

I assume your body is probably still sore from last night, so there's a heating pad on the coffee table and a few cold compresses in the freezer I made before leaving. I'm sorry I'm not here to take care of you but please text me when you're awake. I'd like to talk through everything we did and see how you felt about it all.

Have a good day xx

Daddy

Y/N rolls her lips into her mouth to avoid a grin from breaking out onto her face. She feels like a teenage girl, the way she clutches the handwritten note to her chest, butterflies readily swarming her stomach as she thinks back to the previous night. Memories start to flood back — she'd allowed herself to go under, further than she'd gone in a really long time, but Harry... he'd gone beyond her wildest dreams.

She's lying if she says she hadn't at least contemplated what he's like in an intimate setting — he's beautiful, for Christ's sake, and Naomi mentioned once that they drunkenly made out once, describing it as "one of the best kisses I've ever had" — but it felt as though he'd been crafted just for her. He had worked her up and up, teasing her, pushing her limits but always making her feel safe and cared for. She'd never came that much with a dominant before either, which certainly wasn't a downside.

And when it was over... when she was still so floaty and moony-eyed over him, he tucked her into the safety of his body. He ran them a warm bath and washed her skin and hair, put new bedding on her mattress, and pulled sweatpants and a tee-shirt over her form. If she's honest, she hardly remembers much of the aftermath, but she does recall feeling completely and utterly peaceful.

Y/N doesn't know if she's ever felt that way in her entire life. There's a part of her — a rather big one, if she's honest — that wonders how Harry, of all people, the sweet guy in her friend group that's always too busy working to hang out, managed to get her there.

She shakes her head in an effort to rid herself of the thoughts, not wanting to over-think everything so early in the morning. She'd had such a good time last night and she hopes it had been the same for him, so she's eager to leave it at that.

As requested, though, she grabs her phone from her nightstand (she doesn't remember plugging it in last night, but she assumes Harry did) and pulls up their conversation, firing off a quick text to let him know she's awake. It's not even two minutes before she's receiving an incoming call from him.

"Hello?" Y/N answers, her voice slightly scratchy from using it for the first time that morning.

"Hey," Harry greets. She knows he's at work, but it sounds like he's outside somewhere, faint sounds of cars going by in the background. "How are you?"

"I'm good. Where are you?"

"Work," he replies easily, then pauses. "Well, I came downstairs to call you. Didn't want everyone to hear my conversation with you."

"Oh. Isn't it cold out?" Y/N hasn't checked the weather yet but there's already a frosty chill in the air of her apartment, and she's sure when her feet touch the floors, her body will immediately recoil.

"A little. I'm wearing a sweater, I'm fine. Are you feeling alright?"

She hums as she quickly takes inventory of her body, stretching her limbs out, though her movements are softened by the blankets she's under.

"I'm a little sore, but otherwise good. Someone put like, 20 blankets on top of me so it's a bit hard to tell."

Harry snorts at that, "Yeah, babe, your apartment is fuckin' freezing at night. I think there's something wrong with your thermostat."

"Mhmm. It's been broken for months, I've been bugging the landlord to do something about it."

"I'll take care of it. There's no way I'm letting you go into winter like that."

Her body warms at his assertive tone, her fingers finding a loose thread on her tee-shirt to play with.

"So, we don't have to talk about this all right now — I know you just got up and probably need some time to digest, but I just want to make sure everything we did last night was alright." Harry says, the sound of a car whizzing by serving as a punctuation to his sentence.

"It was great," Y/N replies, perhaps far too quickly for her own good, "Really. You were, um... really good."

"Yeah?" he chuckles and it makes her cheeks flush even more. "You were really good, too. I had a nice time with you."

"Do you... would you wanna continue this?" she asks, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. She hasn't really entertained a version of this where Harry doesn't want to be her dominant, but she supposes that she could do with one night if he didn't have an interest in continuing.

"Of course," he murmurs easily, his voice noticeably dropping a lower tone, "Do you?"

"Yes. Yeah. Absolutely."

"Lucky me."

She nearly chokes on her own spit on that, but just manages to keep it together, hoping he didn't hear her visceral reaction over the phone.

"You go in to work this afternoon, right?" Harry asks, moving on way too quickly that it makes Y/N's head spin just a bit.

"Yeah, I'm 2 to 8 today."

"Okay. I packed you a lunch this morning before I left, it's in the fridge. Do you want me to pick you up again or are you fine getting home on your own?"

Her heart almost bursts at him making her lunch, though she forces herself to focus on his question, contemplating it. She's usually pretty exhausted at the end of a closing shift, even if most of her work doesn't consist of taking customer orders. She'll probably be too tired to do anything sexual, but she now knows that her relationship with Harry stretches beyond the bedroom. It's what she's always wanted, but now that she has it—well, what did she want?

"How about this," Harry interjects her hamster wheel of thinking, "You text me when you get home—I wanna know when you're back safe, anyway—and let me know if you want me to come over or if you wanna be alone, hm? Either one is perfectly fine for me."

Y/N breathes out a sigh of relief (one she didn't even know she was holding) and nods, even if he can't see it.

"Yeah, that sounds perfect. Thank you."

"'Course, bunny. That's what I'm here for, yeah? Make those big decisions for you."

She swallows at the nickname, instantly transporting back to the previous night. His tone has a teasing lilt to it but it still warms her entire body.

"Gonna be good for me today?" he continues and Y/N squeezes her eyes shut, "No touching, remember? Those orgasms are daddy's."

"Mhm," she squeaks out. "No touching."

"Good girl," she swears she can hear his smirk through the phone, "I have to get back to work, but text or call if you need anything, 'kay?"

"Okay. I will."

"Bye, bunny."

The line goes dead, and Y/N immediately smushes her face into her pillow.

. . .

Y/N doesn't have a good day at work.

She's basically floating in on pink fluffy clouds when she begins her shift, a dopey smile wiggling its way onto her lips every time she thinks of last night. There's a dull ache between her thighs and her wrists have slight marks from being tied up, but you'd never be able to identify them if you didn't know they're there. It's like her own dirty little secret, and her entire body heats up when she catches a glance at them when she's piping frosting on cakes or kneading dough.

Her rose-tinted glasses fade away within an hour, though, when she accidentally lets a few loaves of sourdough burn because she's taking care of customers in the front while her coworker is on a break. It's a waste of a few days work and ingredients, and the guilt and disappoint creeps up and gnaws at her.

After that, she messes up on decorating a wedding cake — she's normally aces at making roses, but the buttercream she made splits, and she can't seem to get anything right — but the final straw comes in the form of a father coming in with his bratty kids who press their noses up against the glass displays. Y/N politely asks them to take a step back, that she's more than happy to give them samples of whatever they'd like, but the dad chews her out, calls her incompetent, and leaves Y/N with watery eyes.

Thankfully, she only has 30 minutes left of her shift after that, and she's able to hide in the back and work on peanut butter sandwich cookies by herself. After that, she bids a quiet goodbye to her coworkers, bundles herself up in her jacket, and allows the tears to free fall as she walks the short distance to her car. She just wants to go home, shower off the flour and frosting that she's sure has seeped into her pores, and go to sleep. And really, that's the plan, because Y/N has a bad habit of isolating herself when she's feeling down, until she parks outside of her apartment and glances down at her locked phone to see a message from Harry, received two minutes ago.

I hope you had a great day at work. Let me know if you need anything. If not, can I come see you this weekend? xx

And she's just so... not used to anyone checking up on her after work that she bursts into tears on the spot. Sitting in her idle car, clutching her phone to her ear as she listens to the dial tone, awaiting the sound of Harry's voice on the other side.

"Hello?"

He picks up after three rings and there's a twinge of surprise apparent in his voice, but it quickly melts to concern when he identifies Y/N's sniffles through the receiver.

"What's wrong, baby?" He immediately coos, "Did something happen? Are you alright?"

"I had such a shitty day, Harry," she cries into the phone, haphazardly wiping salty tears from her cheeks.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry. What do you need? Do you just need to vent?"

She sniffs and knuckles at her eye. "Would it be too much to ask you to come over?"

There's some shuffling in the background that Y/N can't make out, but Harry's voice resurfaces quickly.

"Of course not. I'm bringing you leftovers for dinner, just sit tight until I get there. I won't be more than 10 minutes."

"Thank you," she peeps out, gazing down at her lap, "And... Harry, is it okay that I don't wanna do anything tonight?"

The background noise stops, a period of quiet overtaking the line. She gnaws at the skin of her bottom lip anxiously until Harry responds not a moment later.

"That will never be a problem with me, Y/N."

Her heart rate slows instantly.

. . .

There aren't many things that give Harry anxiety.

If he had to list them out, it would look something like this: Getting stuck in traffic on the way to the airport, a messy home, when someone says "can I talk to you?", and, on the occasion, when he's had to fire people at work.

Today, he discovers, Y/N calling him crying lands at the very top of that list. The second he heard her teary voice on the line, he threw himself out of bed and pulled a pair of sweats on. He didn't even know if she wanted him there and yet, he knew in that moment that he needed to be close to her, to fuss over and take care of her.

He tells her he'll be there in 10 but it's really just shy of 7 since he speeds there, a to-go container of eggplant parmesan riding in the passengers seat. He doesn't even bother to text her or knock on the door; somehow, he knows she's left it unlocked for him, and when he finds her defeated, crumpled body slouched over on the couch, his heart breaks.

"Oh, my sweet little cry baby," Harry murmurs as he takes large strides over to her, instantly wrapping her up in his arms. "Poor baby, had such a shit day at work."

She nods into the crook of his neck as the tears start up again. His face crumbles and he kisses her hair, stroking his palm over her shoulder blades.

"There you go," he encourages, the sullen sobs from her chest beginning to slow, "That's a good girl. Just breathe. Daddy's got you."

When Y/N is finally done crying, she's embarrassed by the puddle she leaves on Harry's tee-shirt, but he doesn't say a thing. Instead, he scoops her up and fluffs a blanket around her form before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Gonna go heat your dinner up, alright? Pick something good to watch on TV."

Wordlessly, she nods as he hands her the remote. She settles on Jeopardy, which of course makes Harry chuckle when he reappears with a warm plate of homemade food.

"Who knew you were such an old lady?" He teases, setting it in her lap, "Be careful, okay? It's hot, don't want you to burn yourself."

They sit in silence on Y/N's couch, tuned into Jeopardy with Harry occasionally murmuring out wrong answers. It makes them both laugh, and when Y/N finishes her serving, she crawls into his lap with a full belly and an even fuller heart.

Neither of them want to admit it in the moment, but they both know there's nowhere else they'd rather be.

. . .

It's a few weeks more before Harry decides to have an official check-in with Y/N.

"This sounds like I'm receiving a professional review," she grumbles, sitting across one another in Harry's favorite coffee shop. They're both wearing cozy sweaters now that the weather is finally starting to chill, though Y/N still wraps her lips around the straw of an iced matcha. (Harry replied by asking if she was an ice witch.)

"Shush, don't be dramatic," he says, leaning forward and flipping his palm up. He motions for her to place her hand in his, so she does. "I just want to make sure we're both content and happy in this still. If there's anything more I could be doing, I want to know."

"You've gone beyond any of my expectations, you know that," Y/N replies easily as she crosses her legs. "No notes on my end."

"What about in bed?" He asks, lowering his voice to a quiet murmur. "Is there anything you're unhappy with? Anything you want to try?"

She shrugs, thinking back to the many scenes they've had since they began their relationship. She knew from the first night that she trusted Harry implicitly, but that trust only blossomed the deeper they went. She fell into her little space nearly every time they were intimate, even if it was just Harry licking into her at the end of a long day. And while there were soft, slow moments, the intense ones seemed to be more fulfilling for both of them — the evenings when she was gagged and tied up, when he edged her for hours, when she was down on her knees as he fucked her throat and refused to let her swallow his cum until she was drooling down her chin.

She'll never admit this out loud, but she wonders if Harry was somehow handcrafted just for her.

She clears her throat, playfully rolling her eyes at the knowing smirk on Harry's face — one that says I know what you're thinking about, and she pinches the fleshy part of his hand in response. He chuckles and wrinkles his nose at her before taking a sip of his espresso (it came in a ridiculously small cup, and Y/N had to resist making fun of him of it).

"I think we can move on to things that would require more trust," she says carefully, casting her eyes down at the table. Harry makes a faint tsk-ing noise with his mouth.

"Eyes on me, bunny." he instructs softly, "Tell me what you want to try."

Y/N wiggles slightly in her seat, readjusting her position as her thighs clench at the use of his more dominating tone.

"Um... a collar, maybe," she murmurs, pausing to take a sip of her matcha as Harry nods, "I would like if we experimented with anal."

"Have you done that before?"

"Mhm. I like it a lot."

Harry straightens his posture and swallows harshly. She wonders if he decided to have this conversation in public as some sort of test for both of them. They're keeping their voices low enough so only they can hear one another, but Y/N knows it's turning both of them on.

"I have toys and such," she continues when he doesn't reply. He squeezes his eyes shut and she bites her bottom lip, leaning forward over the table. "A few plugs... I have one that's nearly too big, I always have to work it in."

"Enough," he mutters, giving her hand a warning squeeze. "We'll... we'll do that, yeah."

She lets out a giggle and he grumbles, releasing her hand and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Is there anything else you want to do?"

He rolls his lips into his mouth and she can tell that he's mulling over something, though she doesn't know what. They've always been quite open with one another, so for him to be in a state of contemplation feels silly.

"You know you can tell me anything," Y/N murmurs, occupying her newly freed hand with the condensation leaking from her cup. "No judgement."

Harry nods, matching her posture as he places his elbows on the wood table of the booth. "This is an exclusive relationship, right? You're not sleeping with anyone else."

She nods her head. "Of course."

"Neither am I," he says, glancing up at her, "I was wondering if you'd be comfortable with forgoing condoms."

Y/N's eyebrows shoot up. She's never gone bare with anyone before, not even with people she slept with for long periods of time. It's a big ask — they're both aware of that, otherwise he wouldn't be bringing it up in this context.

"Can I ask why?" she questions. The thought of feeling Harry without a barrier is... overwhelming at the very least, but in the best way possible. Her stomach flutters at the thought of it, actually, especially considering the trust she has in him.

"You don't have to say yes if you don't want to or you feel uncomfortable. I just... I was thinking, and I decided that I would really like it. To be with you — inside you — in the closest way possible. Does that make sense?"

It does — it makes a lot of sense, and she's nodding her head in agreement automatically without even giving it much thought. She doesn't need to think about it, but now she's confirmed that her body works on autopilot when it comes to him, giving her away without giving her a chance to overthink it.

"Yes," Y/N answers, affirmatively and with confidence, "I'm— I'm on birth control and I'm clean. I got tested after Todd ended things."

"Seems like that's the only thing he was good for," he says cheekily, and she gently kicks at his foot under the table, "I'm clean, too."

"Okay. Good."

"Very good."

"Do you... are you free for the rest of the day?" she asks, her eyes moving to the window they're sat next to. Rain is falling steadily, fat drops of water painting the glass.

They both know what she's asking. It's a more polite way of saying, do you want to come over and have unprotected sex and maybe choke me and play with my bum, too?

Harry chuckles, leaning across to swipe his thumb over her cheek. She revels in his touch.

"I have to run a few errands, but I can come over this afternoon if you're free. Does that sound okay?"

"Mhm."

"Alright. Let's get you home, then."

. . .

After Harry drops Y/N at home, she falls into her little space.

It's not even on purpose — it's just the context of the conversation they had at the coffee shop. They'd only played once or twice this past week because she had an opening shifts at the bakery (a 3 a.m. wakeup call simply wasn't enough for her to sleep off her soreness from their most recent scene), so they'd resorted to quickies on Harry's lunch hour. On Monday and Wednesday, he sped over to Y/N's just as she was getting home from her own job, bounced her on his cock, gave her two or three orgasms, and came down her throat. While she peed, he ordered her lunch, then wrapped her up in her favorite blankets, tucked her in on the couch, and pressed a kiss to her forehead before heading back to work.

So, given all that, it kind of makes sense. She's craving the sweet, floaty feeling and with thoughts of Harry making her his (in every sense of the word), she slips. She doesn't tell Harry that it happens, instead just toddling up to her bedroom to change out of her clothes and into one of her favorite pale blue lingerie sets, complete with thigh high socks to keep her warm while she waits for him.

But she's not in the right headspace.

And she doesn't know when Harry's coming back, because he didn't say.

She's panicky and teary eyed, missing her dominant, but more than that, she's horny. She's so turned on that she's pacing around the length of her apartment to rub her thighs together and create some type of friction, the arousal leaking from her core creating strings between her legs. And even in her little space, she knows she's not supposed to touch herself, but it's been days since Harry made her cum.

In a sudden decision, she goes back upstairs and rifles through the box underneath her bed. It's filled with a few butt plugs, vibrators, and dildos. Despite the temptation, she avoids the clit stimulation toys and grabs her mid-sized butt plug. It's not for pleasure, she tells herself — it's because it's been ages since she's had someone fuck her back there and she needs proper stretching. If she puts it in now, by the time Harry gets back, she'll be open enough for his cock.

Y/N lays back against the fluffy pillows and blankets on her bed, propping herself up with her plug and a bottle of lube in hand. All of her plugs have pretty little jewels on the end, but this one in particular is her favorite — it has a pink heart on the end with a glass body, and she's so excited to show it off to Harry.

She's done this process many times, both on her own and with a partner. When she reaches between her thighs, she's already drenched, unsurprisingly so, and she uses some of her leaking arousal to press a finger into the tight rim of muscles. She initially gasps, pleasure quickly fizzling up inside of her and making her feel fuzzy and warm.

When she drizzles some lube on to her hole, she gets up to three fingers and by the time it's a comfortable fit, she's craving the plug. With a cautious amount covering the glass orb, she slowly pushes it in, a satisfied moan garbling deep from her chest. It feels so good, a fullness that she's never been able to achieve otherwise, floating her up and up onto cotton candy clouds.

She resists the overwhelming urge to toy with her pussy while she lays there for however long. Every time she shifts her position, she feels the plug move ever so slightly, eliciting a harsh gasp from her throat, her eyes fluttering closed. She's so gone — so, so gone that she doesn't even notice Harry's text, nor does she realize that he's at her house, knocking on her door and, when she doesn't answer, uses the key he has for emergencies to let himself in.

(After Y/N accidentally locked herself out one night at the end of a closing shift and the locksmith didn't come until the following morning, forcing her to stay over at his per his demand, the whole key exchange thing was kind of a given.)

She really, truly doesn't realize it until he walks into her bedroom with frazzled eyes, worried that's somethings wrong, only to be met with his sweet little submissive sprawled out on the bed, a plug wedged between her ass cheeks and her gleaming pussy on display.

"Daddy!" She exclaims, rising to her knees, "When did you get here?"

Harry walks in and sits on the edge of the bed, taking her cheek into his large palm.

"Just did, sweetheart. How are you?"

"Mm, really good," she giggles, wiggling her bottom, "I did something— nothing bad, I promise, I didn't touch myself."

"No?" He murmurs, stroking the soft skin of her cheek. "What'd you do, angel girl?"

"Can I show you?"

He already knows what she did — he saw it the second he stepped through the doorframe, his throat immediately going dry at the sight. But when he notices how blown out her pupils are, the wide eyes and her high-pitched voice, he realizes that she must've gone to her little space somewhere over the past few hours, and he feels like a shitty dominant.

As soon as Harry nods, Y/N flips over and pushes her bum towards him, showcasing the pretty jewel. His hands find the thick of her ass, rubbing gently.

"So pretty, baby doll," he murmurs, and he means it — she looks gorgeous, all stuffed up for him. He taps the plug gently and she whimpers, making him smile. "Did you do this for daddy?"

"Mhmm," she hums, pushing her tummy down to the bed. "Missed you so much, just wanted to get all ready for you."

"I missed you more." Harry says softly, wrapping a hand around her hip and tugging her back up so he can see her face. "Are you feeling little, honey?"

She nods.

"Yeah? When did that happen?"

She thinks for a moment, trying to remember the hours she spent after he dropped her off at home. "I think a little after you left. I didn't know when you were coming back."

"You know daddy will always come back, right?" He asks, brushing some of her hairs out of her face. "And you can always call or text me if you get nervous."

"I don't wanna bother daddy."

"You're never a bother, baby. You're my princess, hm?" He punctuates his sentiment with a kiss to her nose, making a small smile appear on her lips. "You're my good girl and I'll do anything to keep that pretty smile on your face. Okay?"

Y/N peers up at him through her eyelashes. "Really?"

He smiles. "Of course."

She wiggles into his lap and he chuckles, wrapping his arms around her waist. She hugs him tightly as he presses a series of light kisses to the crown of her head.

"Got you a present today." He murmurs into her hair. She glances up at him with wide eyes.

"What'd you get me?"

"Why don't I show you?"

Reluctantly, she moves off of his lap and lays back against the bed, squeezing her thighs at the slight movement of the plug inside her. He jogs downstairs and returns with a dark red box.

"You mentioned wanting one earlier and I couldn't get the image out of my head," he admits, sitting back down next to her and opening the box. Inside, there's a black leather color attached to a silver hooped leash, the word daddy's embroidered in light pink across the material. "What do you think?"

"'S pretty," she mumbles, reaching out to run her fingers over the leather. "For me?"

"Yeah, baby, it's for you."

A grin breaks out across her face and she sits up, baring her neck to him. "Put it on me, please?"

He nods and complies, a pleasant feeling washing over him at her willingness to immediately wear it. He clips the leather around her neck, tugging gently on the chain. A whimper sounds from her lips and he smirks.

"Filthy girl," he mutters, wrapping the chain around his knuckles. "Now, I know you said you didn't play with yourself, but that includes toys. You couldn't wait to put your pretty plug in until daddy came back?"

She swallows. "I... I guess I should've."

"You should have," Harry echoes with a nod. "I know you're desperate for me to own your cute little asshole, but you should've waited, bunny."

"I'm sorry, daddy."

He hums, tugging on the chain to bring her head down to the bed. She gasps at the sudden movement as he maneuvers her hips, raising them so her ass is in the air. He can feel himself thickening in his jeans — she wasn't wearing anything on her lower half except for those god forsaken thigh high socks, and they're going straight to his cock. His limits as a dominant have never been tested as hard as they are with Y/N; normally, he's able to control his powerful facade without a blink, but she, of course, makes it difficult. And she does it all without even trying.

Harry holds in a sigh as he runs his hands over the expanse of her hips, giving them a small squeeze. She's so far under and desperate to be touched that something as minuscule as that has her slowly rocking back into his grasp, yearning for something to take away the persistent ache between her thighs.

"I'm gonna have to punish you," he mumbles, though it's apparent in his tone that he's forcing himself to do this. If he wasn't so hellbent on maintaining a proper dominant-submissive dynamic, he would already have his prick balls deep inside of her. "Nothing too bad since you didn't technically disobey, but you did touch yourself, and I'm sure you got a lot of pleasure from it."

His pants continue to tighten as the image flashes across his brain — his sweet girl spread out on the bed, knees to her chest, two fingers knuckle deep in her ass as she moans and mewls over the prospect of being filled up back there. It's enough to make him shudder, her small and pathetic whimper from below the only thing that takes him out of it.

"It was for you, daddy." she insists, and he notices that her posture has fallen slightly, her face now down in the tufts of her bedding with zipped up thighs to show off the curves of her ass.

"Mm, but you didn't ask, bunny. You know better, don't you?"

A beat. Then, "Yes, daddy. I know better."

He hums and pinches at the crease of her thighs. She's expecting a spanking — if she has to guess, maybe 15 or 20 — but instead, Harry maneuvers back in front of her and tugs on the chain, lifting her head to look at him. His hand finds her chin and he squeezes gently, his eyes roaming over her warm and sweaty face.

Y/N is patiently waiting to be thrown over his knee and a firm slap to come down on her ass. But much to her surprise, he lets the chain go, stands up from the bed, and makes her watch as he undresses. Under ordinary circumstances, this wouldn't be as lusty as it currently is, but the tension is thick between them; Y/N feeling incredibly needy and Harry unable to stay away from her.

"Aren't you gonna punish me?" she asks as he pushes his jeans down, palming himself through his briefs. He nods curtly, avoiding her wide eyes.

"This is your punishment, pet," he murmurs, freeing his cock from the confides of the material, pumping once, "You're going to sit there, on your knees, and watch me jerk myself off. I'm not going to tie you up. You have to practice self control."

Her jaw drops open as he spits into his hand and begins to stroke himself. He's so hard that it hurts a little bit, so he can't imagine how desperate Y/N must be feeling. Her hands are twitching at her sides as she zeroes in on his prick, how thick and long and perfect it is, her stomach stirring as she watches him.

"That's not nice," she mumbles, swallowing harshly, "Please... I-I've been waiting for you all day."

He can see her eyes beginning to well up and his heart cracks just a tad, but it's not enough to get him to stop. His balls are throbbing, the length of his cock wet with spit and pre-cum as he continues his strokes, top to bottom, over and over again.

"Ah, but you didn't, did you?" he says, dribbling down another bit of spit down to his cock, landing at the base. "You put a plug in that pretty ass. You stretched it out, didn't even let daddy get a taste before you did it."

"I'm s-sorry," Y/N blinks the free-flowing tears away, "Please daddy, I've wanted you all day, please—"

"Keep begging."

She's nervous that he'll cum before she even gets a chance to feel him, but little does she know he has no plan to. He knows how to edge himself, and he plans to do just that — he'd be a true masochist to allow himself to cum all over his fist without sinking inside either one of her holes.

"I need it so bad, please. It aches daddy, it hurts, I feel like I'm gonna explode, please—"

"And what do you want?" he presses, giving his balls a squeeze, "You can pick one hole for my cock to fuck and cum in. Which one is it?"

She pouts, her bottom lip jutting out with teary eyes. He wants to reach across the bed and squeeze her cheeks together, pressing kisses all over them, but he restrains. It's part of the punishment, the dominant part of brain reminds him.

"You have five seconds to decide or you get nothing."

"My pussy," Y/N blurts out, and it looks like she maybe even surprised herself with her answer. "Please. I want you to cum in there for the first time."

His cock twitches just at the words and he nods, taking her chain back into his hand. He shuffles back onto the bed and pulls her down, laying her down against the pillows.

"Are you gonna take my cock like a good girl?" He asks, spreading her thighs open and hovering over her.

"Yes, daddy," she answers obediently, licking over her plushy lips, "I— am I allowed to keep the plug in, daddy?"

"Is that what you'd like, baby? All filled up in both of your holes?" He peppers kisses over her chest and up to her neck, and she gasps lightly at he nips the skin. "Tell me now, yes or no."

"Yes," she breathes out, "I want that."

"My dirty girl."

He yanks at the chain again, sitting her up before flipping her onto her tummy. He props her hips up so her ass is high in the air, her face pressed down against the fluffy pillows.

"You know what word to say if it's too much, right?" Harry asks as he pumps his cock, nearly twitching knowing he's so close to being inside of her.

"Yes, daddy— p-please, put it in—"

He certainly doesn't need to be told twice. It's but a moment more before he's pressing his cock into her weepy hole, her wetness making a mess between her soft thighs. They both moan in unison when he enters without a barrier for the first time ever, his mouth dropping open at the sight of the pink jewel fitted between her cheeks. He pumps slowly at first with a hand pressed into her lower back, allowing her to get used to the deep angle, her whimpers from below egging him on.

"What a good little girl," he mutters as he begins to speed up, sliding his hand down to the plug and pulling at it gently. She gasps and mewls, meeting his hips as she rocks back against him. "My little anal whore, yeah? Just love being filled up in both of your pretty holes."

"Yes, daddy!" She squeals beneath him. He already feels her clenching around his cock, her muscles tightening as he continues to pull the plug out in centimeter increments before slowly pushing it back in.

"Tell me when you're gonna cum," he demands through harsh panting, "You know the rules."

She winds her hands back around to each of her ass cheeks, spreading them. He groans out loudly and watches as his prick pumps in and out of her pussy, rings of her wet arousal covering his length.

"Gonna cum, gonna— please!"

Y/N doesn't need anything else for stars to explode between her eyes, and she hardly notices the liquid gushing from her pussy as she comes. Harry withdraws and rubs at her clit, her moans music to his ears as she squirts all over the bed, her hole visibly pulsating.

"Fucking nasty girl," he grunts when she stops, pushing his cock back inside. She gasps at how quickly he goes back to roughly fucking her, her eyes rolling back into her head at the overstimulation and fullness.

"I want your cum," she pants out, "Fill me up daddy, please, I need it."

"I know, bunny, daddy's gonna give it to you," he replies through a tight jaw, burying his cock deep inside her pussy. His balls are throbbing at the tightness of her hole, especially with the aftershocks of her orgasm. She's drooling onto the bedsheets, a wet mess beneath him covered in squirt and sweat with a leather collar snapped around her neck — he's never seen anything more beautiful, and the vision itself has him at his end.

"Fuck— I'm fuckin' coming, baby," he groans, pumping warm ropes deep into her pussy. She moans all the way through, immediately obsessed with the way it feels. She can feel his prick throbbing inside of her as he releases and it's the most delicious sensation.

"That's my girl," Harry mutters as he slowly pulls his cock out, groaning to himself at the sight of her dripping pussy. "Push out for me, baby, let me see."

She does as she's told, using the little strength left in her muscles as she pushes out the thick cum he pumped into her. It's the first time either of them have done this, but it's apparent that it won't be the last. She whimpers at the sensation, wishing she could see what it looks like, but Harry's already using two fingers to push it back in. It's not enough to make her cum again — she thinks she's finally too sensitive for another orgasm to crawl up her body — but it still feels so good, knowing he wants to keep his load deep inside.

When he's finally done, he works slowly to remove the collar from her neck and lower her down to her stomach.

"You okay?" He asks softly. She hums against the fluff of her bed and he's not sure if it's a yes or a no. "I'm gonna take your plug out, okay? Can you tell me if that's alright?"

She tilts her head to the side and murmurs out an mhm, so he makes quick work to gently remove the butt plug from her hole. He bites his lip at the visual, placing the toy on her nightstand to wash later.

"Bath time, angel girl," Harry murmurs, rubbing his palm up her back. "Daddy will clean you up."

She nods and he smiles gently, though he knows her brain is melted beyond belief. He tugs her body up and helps guide her to the bathroom on shaky legs, placing her on the toilet to do her regular post-sex pee. As usual, he looks away, but he knows this time will be a bit longer since the scene was messier. As she sits there, he fills the bathtub up with warm water and her favorite bubblebath.

When they lower into the water together, her muscles feel like jelly. He knows it's been a long day for her so he's not surprised at her quietness as he lathers body wash over her skin. Sometimes she slips out of her little space in the bath or when he's feeding her after a scene, but he expects her to maintain a near-silent demeanor from the intensity of the past few hours.

He helps her out and wraps her up in a fluffy towel, drying her skin off as she smiles softly at him. He gives her a granola bar to munch on as he changes the sheets, and when they're finally in bed together, exhausted from the day, he swears he hears her say the faintest words.

Then, once more, they fall from her lips: "I love you."

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maeby-cursed · 7 months

Text

KISS ME, TRY TO FIX IT…

𓂃 COULD YOU JUST TRY TO LISTEN ?

a/n: starting a new series of songfics ! this one is very obviously inspired by sad, beautiful, tragic, so you can see where this might be going. enjoy the results of my brainrot ♡ (also, i’ve never written for gojo before, please have mercy)

✧ synopsis: you’ve been waiting for satoru gojo for ten years, but there’s no trace of the man you fell in love with when you were sixteen years old. it’s time to let go, but he might not want to.

✧ pairings: satoru gojo x fem!reader

✧ wc: 2k

✧ rating: angst. so much of it, angst to drown in. might get suggestive at some points.

✧ cw: mentions of drinking, of the great jjk tragedy of 2006 and its aftermath, implied cheating, gojo may be ooc, toxic relationship ??

An ice-cold wind blows through the window as you wait.

It’s not even December yet but it’s already snowing.

Soft snowflakes the size of stars, far away in their firmament, enter your living room. When they land on the sofa, they dissolve, leaving in their wake thousands of specks of water that look disturbingly like tears.

It doesn't matter. You don't think he's going to notice anyway.

It's been ten long years of waiting. Ten long years of fighting, of fixing what's broken and denying that it's ever been broken.

It's over. Let winter freeze everything in its path.

When Satoru walks in through the door, you hesitate for a moment. A moment of madness when you see his hair, as white as the snowfall that has invaded your home. Just a moment when you see him in his burgundy turtleneck sweater, his tight-fitting coat. One single moment when you recognize the cold in his pink cheeks.

But it's all over when you meet his crystalline eyes. The fault is theirs.

"Is the window broken again?" he asks, dropping his keys on the entryway’s table.

The window has been broken since September.

You nod and he grunts, running a hand over his face.

"I'll call someone tomorrow, although you could have said something," he says. This is your fault. Of course.

You keep your eyes fixed on the snow. From the living room you can see the sidewalk across the street, covered in a blanket of white that sparkles under the street lamps. It's so painfully beautiful it makes you nostalgic.

You and Satoru moved into this house three years ago, when he got his teaching position, and you can't quite get over the fact that it's time to say goodbye.

You've spent three years of solstices here. You've seen the sidewalks covered with dead leaves, with thousands of little flowers that broke the pavement in their wake. But it’s never snowed.

It’s not fair, not one bit.

Satoru says no more. He goes to your room and undresses; he replaces his street clothes with a black outfit that seems very appropriate for the occasion. Since you’ve known him, he always takes off his glasses when he crosses the hall of your building, but for once, you wish he'd put them back on.

When he returns, his hair is dripping over his forehead. You hadn't even noticed that he was taking a shower.

But he hasn't noticed that your bedside table is empty, either; that your slippers are missing, that there's a seeping coldness in the hearth of your house, and it's not coming from the window.

"What's for dinner?" he asks, plopping down on the couch with his cell phone in his hand.

You get up.

9:26 p.m., November 8. This is where it ends.

"I don't know. I'm going out to dinner," you say.

He doesn’t even bother to look up.

"Hmm, where are you going? Are you bringing something back or should I order myself a pizza?"

It's painful to watch as nothing seems to touch him. He’s infinite — always infinite.

"I'm going to a work friend's house."

"The one with the lovely curly hair and those pretty hazel eyes?"

Christ.

"No. I'm moving in with Rhea. Dark-eyed, blonde, leggy."

"Hmm, how nice."

A moment passes where he just keeps staring at the screen, and you despair.

"Satoru."

"What's up, baby?"

"I'm moving."

At last – at last – he looks up. In his eyes you see nothing; two blue marbles that have sworn you two to an unjust fate.

"You're moving out? Why?"

Where to begin? Because you have been loving a man destined to save everything and everyone for a decade, because you have been trying to fill a void that is not your size for eight years, because the windows are broken and the bed is cold and Satoru arrives several nights smelling of anisette and the perfume of another, because you don't want to live looking at the Strongest, the possessor of the Six Eyes. Because you thought that in some hidden corner Satoru Gojo was still there, and he isn’t.

"Because it's killing me to live like this.” You settle for that as your explanation and try to keep your stare unwavering.

"Like this how?" he questions, suddenly irritated. "In a luxurious house?" He gestures around him with the cell phone in his hand. "Comfortably, with your dream job? Knowing you'll never have to worry about money?"

"No, Satoru. Like this, without you loving me."

That chills him to the bone.

"Of course I love you."

"Do you? Do you want me for anything other than to warm your bed and your cock? Do you want me here, as your partner? Do you need me for anything at all?"

You don’t gesticulate, you barely move from your spot in the middle of the room. Everything in this fucking place is white and uncannily clean; the sofas, the coffee table, the walls, even the snow; but you and Satoru. He’s in all black, you’re in all red. It’s almost dreamlike, and you struggle to stay grounded.

The only thing you could remove from this house that would grab his attention would be you.

"Yesterday you weren't complaining about any of this, what the fuck is the matter with you today?"

And you can't stand it anymore. The winter current lifts your hair, soaks the back of your neck and disguises your tears.

"THE MATTER IS THAT I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR TEN YEARS. WAITING FOR YOU. WAITING FOR THE MAN I MET AT SIXTEEN TO COME BACK, SLEEPING WITH A MAN OF ABSENT GAZE WHO STAGGERS INTO MY BED WHEN HE'S TIRED OF BEING IN EVERYONE ELSE'S. I DON'T WANT TO BE YOUR DOG, SATORU. I DON'T WANT YOU TO COME HOME AND FEEL OBLIGATED TO GIVE ME A WALK, A PETTING."

The words come spilling out of you without remedy, every wound bursting open through the stitches. He just looks at you.

"You think I don't love you?"

It hurts to hear him say it, it fucking hurts. You were prepared for the yelling and the coldness, even for a quick vulnerable stare. But never for his trembling voice and soft frown.

You inhale deeply.

"I don't think your love is of any use to me any longer."

Satoru stands up at that.

He's tall, tall and beautiful like Michelangelo's David. All your life, you've been feeling like you had no right to touch him. His infinity assured you that was the case.

He takes a step in your direction and whispers:

"Then what should I do now?"

Your eyes, fixed on the ground, rise to meet his. There's something in the void and you're not sure if it's just your reflection.

"What?" you mutter.

"How do I fix it? What do you need that I can't give you? Do you want me to quit work, for us to leave, for me to come home and kiss your temple, to cook for you, to listen to you, to cherish you in bed?” A heartbeat. “I will."

There’s something about the desperation in his tone, you aren’t sure of what to say next.

Satoru knows how to lie, but you don't know how to tell the difference.

"I don't want anything, Satoru. I'm tired," you whisper back, eyes full of water. "I want it to end. I want you to let it end."

He shakes his head, frowning, and through the mist of your tears you recognize that he is crying too.

"There has to be something. Anything. Something I can do, I can do it all."

It's partly true. He's Satoru Gojo; all-powerful, all-knowing. Eternal and young and beautiful and tragic as a poem.

You are just another person. You cried when Suguru left, when Haibara died, when Kento gave up the Jujutsu world and when Ieri locked herself in her office. You clung to Satoru, who resembled an empty seashell more than a person.

You remember those nights back in 2007. You remember blindfolding him so he wouldn't activate infinity by accident, by reflex, out of overstimulation. You remember cutting his hair when he couldn’t and looking for him in his old antics. You remember taking care of Megumi – always reluctant – and Tsumiki – who you felt was too mature for her age. You remember the burden of being eighteen and having lost a world.

And, above all else, you remember Satoru under the rain. Under the pressure of the world you had lost, the one that he was trying to put back together. There was a month where he seemed catatonic; no smiles, drinking anisette as if it were his one source of life. A thirty-day period followed by the rebirth of a person who looked like the one that stood before, but who seemed cold and alien to you.

"Don't you love me, my darling?" he seeks for you, reaching out a hand to brush against your cheek.

Of course you love him. You love him even like this, like you have loved each and every one of his versions.

"I adore you, Satoru. But I can't stay; you can't fix it."

"Of course I can," he reaches out to you, holding your face between his fingers, "Of course I can."

His lips connect with yours — one last attempt, you don't know by whom.

Snow fills the room and it's cold, but you drink from his mouth, from his everlasting warmth; everything in him lasts forever.

Between kisses, you show him everything you have been for years. Ten years of kisses, of hands looking for hands and flesh searching for flesh.

He moves backwards, keeping you between his hands and guiding you towards the hallway and from the hallway to your shared bed.

This is where it ends.

"Satoru..." you whisper.

"I'm here. I'm here, beautiful, my favorite girl. Talk to me."

A sob escapes you as he utters those words. My favorite girl. That’s what he used to call you. Talk to me, he used to plead, that year at sixteen, when everything was about to start.

Isn't it beautiful that it ends the exact same way?

"Satoru, I'm leaving," you press a farewell kiss to his jaw.

"No, you're not leaving," he murmurs, smiling against your mouth, searching for your lips.

You back away and look at him one more time. And you smile, because there's nothing left.

"I'm already gone. Just let go of me, please."

"But..." he starts, his smile hesitant, "But I'm going to fix it."

You take one of his hands between yours and kiss it as it presses against your cheek, before lowering it to your lap.

"Satoru..." You pronounce each syllable of his name carefully and he stifles a cry. "I'm not going to go any further. I've already made the move and Rhea's expecting me at her house in an hour. I love you, I’ll love you until I run out of kisses, but it does me no good to love you. It is of no use to me, this love. I wanted to tell you. I wanted you one last time. Wasn’t it my turn to be the selfish one for once?"

He watches you, and his mouth shuts close. You've never seen Satoru lose.

No, that's not true. There was a time, one time, where you saw him lose everything.

His eyes fill up with you one second and empty the next.

This is his second time.

He lifts his chin with an arrogance that no longer means anything and lets go of your hands.

"Go then, if you want. I'm not going to do anything to stop you,” he drags the words with feign disinterest. “I can't do anything."

That's the last gift he can give you. An honesty unbecoming of him, a truth that will never belong to Satoru Gojo ever again.

From god to human in three kisses and a goodbye.

"Thank you," you say to him. Then you get up, heading for the living room, where your coat and your escape door await you.

He stays in the bedroom – with himself as he always is – after you leave.

And he hides you where he always hides the things he breaks, in the back of his eyes, where no one can reach to see anything.

(reblogs are appreciated !!)

#🎐 𓂃 mae’s typing !#jjk imagines #jjk angst #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru angst #gojo angst #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you

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peopleareaproblem · 2 months

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"It's the only name I can say."

So last ep, Kalina dropped this line after saying "Ragh Barkrock" again. She's really trying to get the Bad Kids to deduce who she could be referring to via Ragh. We've found out about the Spy's Tongue Curse since she last dropped Ragh's name, so it's clear that she's implying that she cannot say the names she wants to say and is dropping Ragh's name as a clue. I've been seeing a lot of theories about this line that are convinced it's implying Lydia Barkrock. I disagree: I think she is referring to Arianwen, Jace and Porter. Here's why.

First of all, and most obviously: Kalina says Lydia's full name in Sophomore Year episode 6.

Kalina: But you do have some time to talk it over because I'm gonna head out and kill Lydia Barkrock. So take care.

I don't think Brennan or the D20 Lorekeeper would have missed this. Kalina doesn't have a Spy's Tongue Curse with Lydia.

Secondly, the gang already investigated Lydia and got relevant clues from her, and Brennan did not encourage suspicion towards Lydia in any way. This repeat of the clue really feels like a "you guys didn't get it yet" type thing. Last time they assumed Lydia and that wasn't it. Try again.

Thirdly, Ragh's only real interaction with Kalina is about a single time he saw something he shouldn't have: Jace, Porter and Arianwen talking to someone invisible (Kalina) on Prom Night. I believe that if the Bad Kids just asked Ragh what Kalina could possibly have meant by "Ragh Barkrock" and "It's the only name I can say," he would absolutely bring up this fact. But they haven't!

That's why I am convinced that Arianwen, and to a lesser extent Jace and Porter, are who Kalina was referring to.

Below the cut are some bits of the trancript from Episode 4 of Sophomore Year, where Ragh reveals this to the Bad Kids.

Ragh is describing the aftermath of the fight with Kalvaxus:

Ragh: I ran into the school. And I went and I saw there was this conversation, and I was going, 'cause a lot of the teachers had been trapped in the crystals and had come out again. And I saw Jace, the sorcery teacher-- Adaine: Mm-hmm. Ragh: Talking to this woman that I didn't recognize. She was an elven woman, she was wearing sort of like black, dark robes, it looked like, they were very light. She was blonde, she had glasses. Adaine: She look like this? [points at her face] Ragh: She look like you? Adaine: Mm-hmm. Ragh: I mean, yeah. Yeah, she looked like, yeah, she looked like you. But older. She didn't look like-- Adaine: Right. Ragh: Um, you know, I mean, elves never look that old, but she looked like, you know, not a high schooler. Um. Jace and them were talking, and they were talking to somebody else who I couldn't see. I just assumed somebody was like, invisible. Um. Later, um, Jace and Porter came and talked to me--

Ragh goes on to describe Porter healing him, despite Ragh not feeling "that injured, honestly", and after that he can see Kalina despite not being able to see her moments before:

Ragh: And after that, I was like walking home, and I saw this cat woman, this tabaxi. And she came up, and told me all this stuff about my mom, and she said if I ever talked to anyone about it, she would kill my mom.

This indicates that Porter infected Ragh with the curse, on purpose. Probably to allow Kalina to threaten and manipulate him so he wouldn't tell anyone what he saw. She really doesn't want him telling anyone that he saw Arianwen there.

Ragh: She told me if I ever mentioned to anyone what I had seen about that elven woman-- Adaine: Mm-hmm. Ragh: That she would kill my mom.

They have a short conversation about wether Jace is suspect, but dismiss it. Adaine shows Ragh a photo of her mother and he confirms that it is the woman he saw.

#fhjy #fhjy spoilers #dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #fantasy high #fantasy high spoilers #fantasy high junior year #fantasy high junior year spoilers #ragh barkrock #lydia barkrock #arianwen abernant #jace stardiamond #porter cliffbreaker

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cloudshuffle · 2 months

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cuteness aggression. yan!luofu

Blade

As much as you'd like to encourage his wishes, Blade has this nasty habit of his that's called not dying.

Unfortunately for you, you're very capable of that, and so someone has to feed the two miserable, lonely people living under his roof.

You're in his kitchen again, having restored it to minimal working capability, making a simple cabbage and dumpling stew. Occasionally Kafka would get too busy to ask you both out, meaning that Blade had no plans for dinner and you'd go hungry.

The house is blessedly empty, your humming echoing slightly off the sparsely furnished walls. No Blade there, sitting on the couch, doing nothing but boring a hole through you as you prepare dinner.

Keys rattle in the lock, and your face falls just as Blade comes through the door.

He smells sharply of salt and electricity - the scent of blood, still wet on his cuffs. The two of you stand, frozen, eyeing the other for a moment.

Then suddenly he's in front of you, his expression dark. You utter a small yelp, taking a step back, and Blade follows, chest heaving just an inch from your skin.

"...Hi?" you say meekly, trying not to wilt under his smouldering stare. You're not sure what you might have done this time, but you don't feel like sticking around for the aftermath.

He hesitates. Then you're pressed tightly against him, wound up in his embrace, his stained fingers running through your hair.

It feels almost reverent, if not for the fact that he's... crushing you.

"Blade," you manage to gasp out, pushing uselessly against him. "Too tight."

He looks down at you sharply, as if disappointed that you'd be so weak, but releases you slightly. His amber eyes move slowly, from your eyes to your lips, then back up.

"What's going on?" you ask, face still smushed against him.

A moment of silence. "Nothing. It's nothing."

Jing Yuan

You're curled up in his windowsill, entirely submerged in the pages of a book, the late afternoon turning the paper golden. You've more or less forgotten that he was supposed to be at his desk doing paperwork - until a shadow falls over you.

You look up just in time to see Jing Yuan hoist you into the air. You yelp, helpless as he carries you to the desk and into his lap.

"What- Jing Yuan, what the heck?" He's awfully gentle with you as always, and you're more annoyed at having lost your place in the book than your sudden relocation. He wears his trademark half-smile, full of affection, cuddling you to his chest.

"Nothing, nothing." He chuckles, pressing a kiss onto your head and then inhaling the scent of your hair. "Stay here."

These moments happen often - Jing Yuan suddenly being struck with a surge of affection or whatever it was and interrupting whatever it was you were doing. Cuteness aggression was what the books called it. An annoyance was what you were inclined to name it instead.

Still... at least he was kind. And you had to admit it was nice to be shown affection like this every once in a while. So you settle in, content to indulge in him... just a little while.

Dan Heng (IL)

His tail undulates on the floor in front of you, flicking back and forth like a cat's. And like a cat, you glance at him, making sure his back is turned, and reach out a hand to catch the end, scraping your nails lightly along the scales. They feel so much like a snake's, yet more... luxurious, somehow...

You pause. Suddenly it seems like he hasn't moved in a moment.

Glancing up, Dan Heng's staring back at you, face impassive, expression unreadable.

You let his tail go slowly. "S-sorry..."

Something flickers deep in his green eyes, and you barely register the snarl on his lips before he's pounced, caging you in place on the mattress.

You flinch away, feeling the prick of sharp fangs right below your pulse, his chest heaving against yours, the rumble of a growl building in his chest. Dan Heng's tail flicks, brushing one leg to the other.

But he doesn't move. And you get the courage to open your eyes, just a little.

His eyes are fixed on yours, his lips on your skin but frozen, as if he's afraid to move.

"Heng?" you whisper.

Your voice seems to break whatever spell he's under.

"Sorry. I'm... I'm sorry." He moves away from your pulse, burying his face in your chest instead. "I shouldn't... I'm sorry."

His expression is crestfallen, whatever high he was on immediately crashed.

"It's... it's okay." Hesitantly, you pet his hair. He utters an affectionate rumble, like a giant cat.

#cloud writes #yandere #yandere blade #yandere hsr #yandere jing yuan #yandere dan heng #yandere honkai star rail #yandere headcanons #blade #jing yuan #dan heng #danheng #jingyuan #honkai star rail

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hanniejji · 2 years

Text

wild bunny

[ scaramouche x child!reader ]

summary: whenever scaramouche looks at the young child that always stood idly beside him, he is reminded of a certain fledgling that he once lost.

notes: had a sudden burst of writing juice because of the scara cutscene that broke my heart, tis my usual platonic shit agenda lesgo | m.list

words: 972 | warnings: a lil rushed because i typed this while at work LHASHAHAHAHA also mentions of dead pipol lmao

"what the fuck."

scaramouche stares in disbelief, jaw slacked and furrowed eyes pointed at the small cocoon of blanket on the couch in his office. your fluff of hair is disheveled, eyes unusually puffy and teary rather than dull. the small trail of sheen on your cheeks confirms his suspicion.

the unfeeling stray he picked out from the wilderness of inazuma is crying.

he had not seen you express a single emotion other than conflict, anger and bloodlust before, so for you to be crying—alone—it's safe to say that the balladeer is undeniably bamboozled.

"what are you wasting tears for, brat?"

maybe he should have been a little softer when approaching children in their… vulnerable state. but honestly speaking, scaramouche doesn't exactly know if that applies to you. children under the wing of the fatui aren't exactly normal—especially, children who can wipe out a whole team of fatus. nonetheless, you are still a young fledgling, exposed to the truth of this world where the gods are cruel and being weak does not equal to survival.

you remind him so much of kunikuzushi.

he grimace at the reflection, a parallel that coaxed him into taking your battered form under his wing—an unbelievable truth, as much as he denies it.

"i lost the bunny."

"the what?"

he crouches in front of the couch, forearms on his knees with an exasperated look on his face, though his feelings are far from the expression plastered on display. he has an inkling about what's upsetting you, now that he looks over you once more.

you and that thing are practically inseparable.

"i lost the bunny you gave me."

and by bunny, you meant the stuffed bunny he gave you a few months after he plucked you from the wild.

the one scaramouche gave because the first time he saw you was when you were blankly staring at the lifeless bunny on the ground. it died from the aftermath of a wild goose chase. a few weeks before he found you, fatuis and random nobushis would turn up dead in the wilderness of inazuma. it infuriated scaramouche. camps upon camps of fatus would be thrown into disarray and their rations are emptied. when he sent his underlings after the perpetrator, they'd fail to come back with good news. worse, they won't come back at all. he'd come upon them sprawled on the dirty ground somewhere else, dead.

so he went after the menace himself.

that's when he found you in the middle of a fatui camp, his underlings basically useless at this point, slumped on the ground and the poor innocent bunny in front of you. it's later then after he apprehended you that he found out that you were protecting the tiny mammal.

you were just a kid trying to survive in a world filled with monsters, strong enough to protect yourself but helpless and clueless when it comes to the life of others.

when his eye caught sight of a ragged stuffed bunny in an abandoned village, he grabbed it on impulse, faltering only when he was about to hand the now clean stuffed bunny that he stitched up himself. despite being confused as fuck, he casually tossed the thing at you, telling you that it's of no use to him and that you should act like a kid more because your indifference is creeping him out.

he prefers you over any kid by the way. don't tell him i told you.

"i'm sorry," his eye twitched, irritated at how you seemed to be so bothered. it's just a random stuffed bunny, nothing great about it. but he supposes that for someone at your age and comprehension, it must've meant something special for you.

and it does, a lot.

"it's just a toy."

"you gave me that bunny."

he sighed audibly, rolling his eyes before pushing himself to full height, arms crossed.

"it's not the only stuffed bunny in the world, idiot."

"it's the one you gave me. i don't want just any stuffed bunny."

now this, caught him off guard.

you seemed to be genuinely sad about losing the bunny, an expression he only saw on the day you first met. the same look on your face when you failed to protect something you deemed precious. if you're directing such sentimentality towards the stuffed bunny, then you must've really loved it.

more so because it came from him.

scaramouche is brought back to centuries past, an image of a different child flashing before his eyes.

he feels his chest tighten, but he dares not linger at the thought.

"look, you little gremlin," scaramouche grumbled, masking this unfamiliar feeling with exasperation and irritation—he dares not display such thing. "we can just get you a new one and it would still come from me. who the hell do you think provides for you, huh? me, no one else."

he sees your eyes brightened in the slightest, now facing him. he can literally imagine an invisible tail wagging with how you seemed to perked up. another unfamiliar sight, but not unwelcomed. if anything, it's going to be what he thinks of for the next few weeks, unbeknownst to him.

"but how about the one i lost?"

"forget it, it's ragged anyway," he gestures you to follow. "move your little feet, we have places to be and things to do."

the sound of your feet trailing behind him is something he would come to love listening to. that and the slight tug on his sleeves where your little hand naturally clutches around.

a week passes, you found a pristine white bunny in your quarters. it looks different from the one you used to have, but the stitches are familiar and the small electro symbol on its torso is one that you will not mistake for a different person's handiwork.

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keerysfreckles · 4 months

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yes i'm a mess — cole walter

pairing: cole walter x fem!reader

summary: the aftermath of a bonfire brings y/n and cole closer

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, mentions of blood and injuries

a/n: cole walter brainrot..

masterlist !

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

y/n hated bonfires.

her hatred for them only grew after tonight, as she was standing in her bathroom wiping the fresh wound on her cheek. she winced every second the cloth was on her bloodied skin.

y/n wasn't even sure why she went to the stupid bonfire.

was it because cole asked her to go?

maybe.

she definitely regrets going now.

the whole thing happened so fast. she was standing by kiley when she heard alex yelling something towards a blonde. she walked closer and realized the blonde was cole.

she wasn't sure why alex was yelling at cole, but she couldn't just watch.

she tried her best to stop alex before he would say anything he regretted. however he idea backfired immensely once alex had punched her in the face instead of cole.

cole immediately dragged her out of the crowd that was starting to form, and demanded his brothers got a ride from someone else. he drove y/n home, and gave her an old flannel that was in his car to use to stop the bleeding.

y/n wasn't sure if cole was still in her house. she had closed the bathroom door and has been trying her best to clean her cut. her eyes were brimmed with tears the whole time.

she brought the washcloth under the hot water again when a knock echoed through the bathroom.

she doesn't answer, but she hears cole's footsteps getting closer until he's standing behind her.

he simply grabs the cloth from her hand, "have you ever cleaned a cut this bad before?"

y/n shakes her head, "it's not every day that your brother punches me."

cole brings the water under the tap again, before instructing y/n to sit on the bathroom counter. she obliged. she didn't want to make cole more mad than he was tonight.

y/n can't help but wince and move her face away from the cloth. the material was cold. cole knew cold water was better for cleaning cuts than warm water. cole brought the cloth to her face again, and just like before, the girl flinched away.

"can you stay still?" he asks annoyed. y/n doesn't answer, and cole wordlessly takes her chin between his thumb and pointer finger.

she can't deny the fire she feels under cole's touch.

cole finishes cleaning the cut to the best of his abilities. he finally notices the black eye starting to form around y/n's left one. she feels guilty, feeling like a burden. she felt bad that cole was helping her.

"i don't need you fighting my battle for me. okay?" cole breaks the silence.

y/n averts her eyes from cole's, busying herself with her chipped nail polish.

cole leans forward onto the counter, and y/n's voice feels so small to her once she finally responds.

"i just couldn't watch alex say those things about you. and you took it like it was nothing. like you were used to it or something."

y/n looks back at cole to see him already looking at you. he moves over, now having his hands on the counter at each of her sides, closing the girl in.

she blinks slowly at him. her eyes are starting to hurt from the injuries around them.

"i'm sorry," y/n apologizes. she feels even more vulnerable than before when she feels her bottom lip start to quiver. she did not want to cry in front of cole walter again.

cole noticed. he noticed her bottom lip quivering. he noticed her fingers playing with her nail polish. he noticed her breathing was starting to get uneven.

no words were spoken between the two as cole's hands gripped y/n's waist to bring her closer to him. he wrapped his arms fully around his body, while y/n's arms instantly went around his neck. her body shook against his as tears left her eyes.

she wasn't sure why she was crying. whether it was from the fight, the injuries, or the mix of emotions from being in front of cole walter. she was just glad she had a shoulder to cry on.

cole rubs y/n's back, and kisses the side of her head. the two didn't care how long they stayed like that. cole only wanted to make y/n comfortable, and y/n just needed to be held.

#shelbi writes #keerysfreckles #cole walter #cole walter x reader #cole walter x fem reader #cole walter x fem!reader #cole walter x you #cole walter x y/n #cole walter mlwtwb #mlwtwb #mlwtwb imagines #mlwtwb fic #my life with the walter boys fanfic #my life with the walter boys imagine #my life with the walter boys fic #my life with the walter boys

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starryeyedjanai · 5 months

Text

my little hatefuck

@steddiemicrofic prompt: hole word count: 404 rated: explicit | cw: hate sex, petnames (derogatory) | now on AO3! notes: this is in the same universe as the other hate sex microfic i did a few months ago!

“Go faster,” he pants out, tightening his legs around Eddie's waist.

“Mmm, I don’t think I will,” Eddie says, keeping the same steady, agonizingly slow pace he’s been fucking into Steve with for far too long—pressing inside with intention, making Steve’s eyes threaten to roll back at every pass over his prostate.

“Make me come,” he says, the words coming out like a plea, far too close to begging.

“You don't need anything other than this, sweetheart,” Eddie says, leaning forward to trap Steve's cock between them, his breath coming out in huffs against his throat.

Steve hates when Eddie fucks him like this.

Or—he hates how much he likes it, how hard he comes when it’s like this. Because this feels a lot like making love almost.

It feels like something he should be doing with someone who loves him or at least likes him. Not someone who can barely stand to be in the same room as him if they aren't fucking.

Eddie's cock flexes inside him and he knows it won't be long before he comes and if Steve wants to come, he has to do it on his cock or he’s not coming at all.

So he presses his hips up and wraps his arms around Eddie's shoulders to drag him closer, to get more friction on his cock.

“You're so desperate for it, huh?” Eddie goads, tucking his face further into his neck to bite at the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

“Wouldn't be if you’d fuck me the way I want,” Steve grits out, biting back the greedy sounds threatening to pour out of him.

“Do you really think I care about what you want? You are just a hole, baby,” Eddie says, his thrusts getting choppier the closer he gets.

Steve doesn't answer, doesn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s getting to him. He just clenches around him like if he tries hard enough, he can milk the come right out of his dick.

Eddie curses under his breath and fucks into him harder.

He can feel the way Eddie’s cock twitches and pulses inside him when he comes, fucking his come deep into him as his hips stutter, as he whines against his throat.

Steve’s body goes taut as he paints his release all over their stomachs, moaning and babbling unintelligibly.

In the aftermath, he thinks I have to stop doing this to myself.

#happy hole month everybody!#steddie #steddiemicrofic #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #as soon as i saw hole i heard the lyrics ''you are just a hole''#go stream hatefuck by miw #janai.doc

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wolfjackle-creates · 4 months

Text

Bring Me Home Arc 3 Part 2

Happy WIP Wednesday. Bring Me Home won last week's poll. But it was a close one! If you want a say in what I post next week, be sure to vote in this week's poll. ^.^

Story Summary: Danny's parents find out his secret. It doesn't go well. But he's not alone. His friend Tim Drake, better known as Red Robin, and the Young Justice will not let him suffer.

We switch to Tim's POV for this part.

Warnings: Aftermath of torture

Arc 1: AO3

Arc 2: First, Last

Word Count: 1.7k

-----

The instant Kon got the door to the lab open, Tim sprinted down the stairs. The first thing he saw was Jack and Maddie standing over a table, green ectoplasm, blood covering everything.

Then his eyes fixed on Danny. Danny, cut open and bleeding with a muzzle on while his parents looked at his insides.

He rushed forward, tackling Maddie and tearing her away from Danny. She screamed and fought back, landing one punch before Tim kicked her back a step. Then he pulled out his staff and landed a hard blow across her chest, forcing her further back.

Next to him, Cassie was taking care of Jack. He exchanged a quick glance with her and the two began herding the pair towards the wall. Away from Danny.

Behind him, Tim could hear Sam call out for Kon then a cry of pain.

“He’s still alive!” called out Kon. “I can hear both his core and heart.”

Tim couldn’t relax. Alive didn’t mean much. He put more force on his next swing of his staff, aiming for Maddie’s shoulder. But she ducked and twisted just right to get under the swing and move closer.

She slashed back with a scalpel, one still covered in Danny’s blood. Tim growled as he blocked it with his arm, the armor of his suit preventing it from reaching skin. He swung his staff again, getting her in the side hard then jerking up to hit her in the armpit.

He smiled in satisfaction when he dislocated her shoulder, causing her to drop the scalpel.

“You’ve got this all wrong!” she protested as she held her shoulder. “Jack and I are the good guys here. The ghosts, they’re all evil!”

Tim snarled. “The only evil I see here are the two so-called scientists who were torturing their own son!”

Maddie tensed at his words. “Don’t you dare say that. I’m trying to save my son from the monster that took his body.”

Tim swung again, aiming for her feet. Already distracted by the pain in her shoulder, the hit landed and she fell. He hit again and he felt her ankle break. Good, she wouldn’t be getting away.

“Why don’t you just shut the fuck up,” growled Tim.

Jack landed on the ground next to his wife, taken out by a punch from Cassie. Tim took the time to swing at him, too.

Again and again and again, he brought his staff down on them. Not stopping as they cried out in pain or as he felt more bones break under his blows. Until the time when he tried to swing down, but his staff refused to move.

He spun around, scowling, to come face to face with Cassie who had his staff firmly in her own grip.

“That’s enough, Rob. They’re down and they won’t be moving. Impulse and I will make sure of it. You need to go with the others.”

Behind her, Tim could see Sam fussing over Danny, still on the table. Bart and Tucker were at the computers trying to download as much information as they could. And Kon was staring right at him.

“Transport?” asked Tim.

Kon pulled out his phone to check. “Just arrived. Let’s go, Rob.”

Tim nodded. “Fine.” To Cassie, he said, “I want them in custody.”

She nodded. “Obviously. We all do. Impulse, Tucker, and I will take care of things here.”

“Then let’s go.” Tim stalked away from Jack and Maddie, refusing to look back. He wasn’t sure he could stop a second time.

Someone must have found a blanket and gotten it under Danny. All Kon had to do was touch the blanket, and it lifted up. Danny was held completely straight in the make-shift stretcher as Kon single-handedly used his TTK to carry him, Sam leading the way out of the lab.

The doors opened for them on the way out, Kon’s TTK again. And sure enough there by the curb was a nondescript van, engine still running.

Jazz got out the driver’s seat the instant Kon appeared in the doorway to open the back of the van.

“Bring him in here! I’ve got a bed set up,” she said.

Kon, of course, went first. But Tim and Sam were only steps behind him. Inside the van, the bench on one side had been fitted with a futon mattress to form a makeshift bed. Overhead, lights had been fitted to make sure the area was bright enough to see. Kon carefully laid Danny down then backed up so Sam and Jazz could move in.

“Keys are in the ignition,” said Jazz. “Get us away from the house, then let Sam and I patch him up.”

“You’ve got it,” said Kon who took his spot behind the wheel.

Tim shut the doors to the van and stood against the opposite side of the van. This was his first good look at Danny.

His friend was still in his Phantom form, but his jumpsuit had been torn and peeled away from his body. His chest was covered in so much blood he could barely see the wound, but the tell-tale y-incision was unmistakable.

Jazz and Sam were carefully wiping away the blood as best they could, using towels that had been neatly stacked in a box next to the cot.

Tim looked around until he saw an empty bucket. He pushed it towards the two girls. “Put the dirty ones in here.”

Kon pulled away from the Fenton house, aiming for their local out-of-town-limits rendezvous spot. “I can keep Danny from being jostled by the road. Don’t know if I can do the same for the rest of you if you’re moving, though.”

“Let’s not test it right now,” said Tim. “But we will be practicing that later. Never know when we might need it again.”

Jazz dropped her first towel and grabbed another. Her hands were shaking.

Tim knelt by her side and placed a hand on her wrist. “Let me. Right now we’re just trying to hold him together and I can do that as well as you can. He’s going to be just fine, I’ll make sure of it.”

“But I’m the one who trained with Frostbite.” Her voice cracked on a sob.

Tim grabbed the towel from her hands and used it to put pressure on Danny’s wound. “And I don’t need specialized training for this part of it.”

Jazz hesitated a moment longer, but with a last look at her brother, she spun and ran to the other side of the van. Tim listened to her muffled cries as he held the towel to Danny’s chest.

Sam shifted until their shoulders were pressed together and he leaned slightly into the touch. Neither said anything.

Soon enough, Kon was pulling off the road and the van came to a stop. The instant it did, Jazz was pushing her way into his place, two boxes in her hand. She opened one to reveal a large first aid kit, as well stocked as anything he had in his most-used safe house.

Tim took up a position at the foot of the bench and pulled out a small camera he had in his belt. He took careful pictures of all the visible wounds. Kon came up besides him and put an arm around his shoulder.

Jazz opened the second case, letting out a hiss of cold air and frost. Without hesitating, she put on two heavy duty gloves and lifted out what looked to be an ice cube.

Sam, meanwhile, was measuring out enough glowing green thread to cover Danny’s wound. Tim took another picture.

Jazz placed four ice cubes into the injury—one at the end of each cut and one where the lines intersected. Then Sam laid the thread over the wound. She muttered something and it phased into Danny’s skin without the use of a needle and pulled the injury together.

The glow faded slightly and if he didn’t know better, Tim would’ve thought they were regular stitches.

From there, they focused on cleaning off the remaining blood. The van was mostly silent—Sam and Jazz only communicating the bare minimum necessary to care for Danny. Even Tim’s camera was entirely silent, designed as it was for stealth.

As Danny was wiped clean, more and more injuries were revealed. Only years of bat training kept Tim standing and taking pictures. But his grip on the camera was much tighter than it needed to be. Kon’s fingers were digging into his shoulder almost painfully, but Tim didn’t say anything. Sam and Jazz were forcibly holding themselves together, but the odd hitch in their breath or tremble in their fingers gave them away, too.

A nasty burn spanning Danny’s left side was revealed. Tim clicked the camera, and Sam applied an ectoplasm-based ointment to it. Then Jazz covered the injury with a bandage.

The process was repeated time and again for each injury they discovered. But eventually, all the wounds were tended to. Once Jazz did a final look, she nodded with grim satisfaction.

“Superboy, could you use your powers to wrap his chest?”

“Of course!” Kon left Tim’s side to grab a roll of gauze and took up his own place at Danny’s side. All he had to do, though, was place the roll on the bed and his powers took care of everything else.

Tim wished he could do something half so useful. Next time Danny managed to get to the Realms, he was so joining him and getting his own lessons directly from Frostbite.

“Just one more thing to do,” said Jazz. She reached into the first aid kit and pulled out a small box. Inside sat a syringe filled with ectoplasm. She jammed it into Danny’s thigh and pressed the plunger.

Danny’s eyes flew opened and he let out a yell as his back arched off the bed.

Sam was already hovering over him. “Danny? How are you feeling?”

Danny panted for breath, but looked at her with a wry smile. “Pretty much the worse I’ve ever felt.” He looked from Sam to Jazz to Kon before meeting Tim’s eyes. “You came.”

“I always will,” said Tim.

-----

Please check out the Subscription Post if you want notifications when I update.

I'm not an expert on emergency medicine, so I figured why not go the magical route?

Tim wishes he could help in a more hands-on way, but documenting injuries is important if you want to bring them up in court. No one knows yet if Danny will want that, but this way they have them in case they're necessary.

Tucker, Bart, and Cassie are remaining behind to bring the Fentons to JL holding cells. Tucker is the one who knows the Fenton computers best after Danny, after all.

All ready we can see some major changes from my original version. What else will change? And, more importantly, what will stay the same?

#dpxdc #danny fenton #tim drake #kon el #jazz fenton #sam manson #these poor kids #should not have to deal with situations like this #whatever adult heroes are on duty #when impulse and wonder girl come up #with some trussed up mad scientists #with a bunch of broken bones #crying about illegal experimentation on sapient creatures #are going to regret being on shift #they're not gonna be getting much sleep for the next #...#long while

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hyunniesgirl · 9 months

Text

Call it what you want

Pairing: Hyunjin x fem!reader

Summary: You and Hyunjin were never on the best terms but when you're cheated on and your ex is trying to get you back, Hyunjin does everything he can to prevent it from happening.

Genre: enemies(ish) to lovers, smut, fluff

Words count: 4,038

A/N: all my gratitude and appreciation to my bestie @baby-yongbok who proofread this chapter for me 🩷 thank you so much for the help girly!!!

Warnings for this chapter: gaslight, drinking, mentions of violence, sexual tension, insecure thoughts(if there's anything missing let me know)

Chapter two: Drunk

Previous chapter: shameless

Next chapter: the most precious thing

+18 minors do not interact!!!

You couldn't sleep a wink thinking about the whole situation. ‘Is there something wrong with me?’ Is the only thing that comes to mind when you think about your love life.

You're just so angry and not just because you were cheated on. You can't believe you got so worked up after kissing Hyunjin and his reaction was nearly nonexistent? NOTHING?

Of course you didn't expect it to be the best kiss of his life, he was doing you a favor after all but you got pretty excited and he didn't even get flustered? That's kinda offensive.

After your break up, Eric tried talking to you at school so your friends came up with a system so he wouldn't bother you until you felt ready to face him. You found out after a week that someone filmed Ryujin and Changbin beating the shit out of your ex after you left the party and that made you feel pretty satisfied, it's nice knowing that your friends have your back. So that's the reason he doesn't try getting close to you when your friends are around. Now you are never alone, you always have one of your friends in one of your classes and because you're finishing your course you could choose some electives that overlap with theirs. And luckily most of your class courses are with Chaeryeong.

The problem and the reason why you're so mad is that Hyunjin is sticking around too much, more than he ever did. He is always around the exact friend that's having class with you and you're starting to think that he's doing it on purpose. You’ve had to deal with seeing his disgustingly handsome face every fucking day and it’s been nothing but torture considering the kiss and all of its aftermath. Almost a month has passed since you and Eric broke up. The day after you told him to fuck off, you unblocked his contact just to inform him things were over between you two if it wasn't already pretty obvious.

After communication class you were pretty exhausted, so you and Changbin went to the cafe in front of the school so that you could repay him with a drink of his choice for going out of his way to help protect you from your ex. That's when Hyunjin comes barging into the shop. Why does he always look like he's glowing? He's wearing perfectly fitted clothes as if they were custom made just for him, his hair falls in glamorous waves, it's longer than most men wear but it's just right for him. Long story short: he's hot. You have to admit it and it's really annoying, actually. Why does the guy you dislike have to be so stunning?

"Hey", he says, taking his sunglasses off, bumping fists with Changbin and nodding at you in an attempt to greet you.

"I'm going to order, I'll get yours", he says, seeing the pager light up and buzz on the table.

He asks for a large Iced Americano and the attendant gives him your order. He sees that there's some writing on the coffee sleeve of your drink.

"Hey, saw you and thought you're cute. If you want to hang out sometime, call me: xxx xxxx-xxxx" Hyunjin scoffs, his jaw clenching. He tears the paper apart and throws it in the trash before heading back over to you and Changbin.

"They forgot to put a cup sleeve on mine", you say pouting as you take the drink from Hyunjin's hands. He finds you so cute it's difficult not to smile.

"I can get an extra when I get my order", he suggests and you frown, a strange urge to accept his kindness but you're too proud for that.

"No need, it's not that hot." That’s a lie, it is really hot, but you don't want to accept his help.

"I'm going to meet Chaeryeong, so you can wait for the drink with him, Binnie." You say as you put your bag on your shoulder and wave goodbye. Hyunjin's eyes follow you as you leave, watching you until you are out of his sight.

Chaeryeong was not far, so you thought it wouldn't be a problem to go alone looking for her. When you hear Eric's voice calling for you, you pretend like you didn't and just walk faster looking around for your friend, until he grabs your arm forcing you to look at him.

"Babe, I was calling you, didn't you hear me?", he asks and for a moment you think you're crazy. Didn't he cheat on you? Didn't you break up? Why's he acting like nothing happened?

"What do you want?"

"I missed you", he says, getting closer, giving you puppy eyes and caressing the arm he is holding.

"Don’t pretend like everything is okay." You shake your arm out of his grip. "We broke up, I don’t want to talk to you anymore."

"What did I do that was so wrong?" He asks, His expression void of embarrassment

"What did you do? Are you fucking joking right now?"

"Don’t you think you’re exaggerating?" He asks, pouting. "It meant nothing to me, if you just let me explain-"

'Is he trying to look like the victim while I’m the jealous girlfriend? Doesn't he have a conscience?' You knew this would happen, you knew he would try to talk his way out of this. You take your phone out of your pocket and show him the picture you took of him at the party. His eyes grow wide.

"I’m not going to let you gaslight me into thinking I'm crazy." He tries to take the phone out of your hand but is stopped by a very angry Changbin.

"I see I should have beat you more", he spits, coming in between the two of you. "Get her out of here"

Hyunjin comes over to you, he puts a hand on the small of your back and leads away from the both of them. You're worried about your friend, he could get into trouble if they fight, so you can't help but to take a few glances in their direction until you are too far to see them.

You feel tears running down your face and you can’t seem to stop them. You’re so angry, so hurt. If Eric had only admitted what he did, you wouldn’t hate him so much, but he’s just pretending you’re overreacting and trying to get his way. Everyday you try to push aside the hurt you’re bearing, the feelings of insecurity and anxiety. You have to convince yourself that you did nothing wrong, that he’s the one at fault. You’re afraid of falling in love again, scared of having to go through all of this heartbreak and pain again. Love shouldn’t be like this, love should be light and carefree.

"I can’t believe he showed up when you were alone", Hyunjin says, pulling you out of your worried and anxious thoughts. You look around and notice how far you are from Changbin now.

"I expected it" You say, sighing as you wipe your tears.

"He’s such an asshole, trying to deceive you like that." You scoff, feeling mad. He's not that different.

"Do you think you’re better than him?" You ask and he looks at you, frowning.

"You lead girls on over and over" You continue. You’re trying to hurt him. You want him to feel the hurt that you felt. You know it’s not fair, but it has not been fair to you either. Why do you have to be the only one feeling miserable? He stares at you for what feels like an eternity, sighing before answering.

"I never give false hope to other people", you take a deep breath, you really thought he would lie to you, say he doesn't know what you’re talking about.

"I never accept the confessions of the girls who have feelings for me", he continues, "and the ones I occasionally go out with know I won't date them, it's not my fault that they think they can change me or whatever they choose to take that risk." He sounds hurt, exactly the way you wanted, so why do you feel even worse?

"I don’t see how I’m like him." He finishes, making you feel like your chest is sinking.

"I-"

"We finally found you!" You hear Changbin’s voice and you look towards the sound, he and Chaeryeong look tired, they’re breathing heavily and sweating.

"We searched for you everywhere, why didn’t you answer your messages?", Chaeryeong asks, hugging you.

"I didn’t realize how much time had passed." You say as your eyes stay locked on Hyunjin. He’s avoiding your gaze again just like he did at the party, looking to the floor and making your chest ache even more.

"I’m sorry for worrying you", he says, "I gotta go"

You see him walking away, not glowing so much anymore. You wanted to call his name and apologize, say you shouldn’t have snapped at him like that, but you’re too proud for that. Too proud to apologize to one of the people that came to your rescue when you needed it the most lately. You suck. You really do.

•••

Hyunjin didn’t come around for the next week, your friends even complained about how distant he was. It couldn't be because of your conversation, right? He wouldn't be like that because of something you said. He didn't like you, it doesn't even make sense for him to care about what you say. When the weekend rolls around and you barely see him you feel weird, if you didn't know any better you would think that you're missing him and that wouldn't make sense.

Chan was cooking for the night, your Saturday had been awfully boring, so when he proposed a dinner at his house you accepted right away. His cooking is so good you're salivating with just the smell of onions and garlic. Changbin and Minho are playing Just Dance while Seungmin and I.N. are playing pokémon. Chaeryeong is by your side, complaining about a class you're not into, while Jisung and Felix are helping Chan. The only ones missing are Yeji, who's coming with Ryujin and Hyunjin, that you were informed is not coming.

"Why can't Hyunjinnie come, again?" Changbin asks while waiting for their points to be calculated on the game.

"He said it's school stuff but I bet it's because of a girl", Jisung says and you feel that weird ache in your chest once again.

What does it matter to you if he's with some girl? You not only rejected his request to be friends, you also said some pretty bad things to him. You deserve it if he never looks at you again, you still can't believe you said that to him, just because you were feeling bad doesn't mean you get to treat people that way. You sigh to your own thoughts receiving a suspicious look from Chaeryeong.

"Nah", Minho answers, "he's been hooked on the same chick for quite some time now".

You look at Minho, frowning. You didn't know Hyunjin liked someone. So why was he kissing someone else at the party? Weirdly enough, you swear you saw Minho eyeing you.

****

The moment that Chaeryeong introduced you to them, Hyunjin knew he was done for. Everything about you was appealing to him: the way you smiled talking about the things you liked, how you fixed your hair after the wind messed it up, the way you bonded with all the guys and tried finding things in common with every one of them so that you all would get along.

He couldn't help but stare, your voice was so sweet and your eyes sparkled when you laughed. He tried to be subtle but everytime you joined their group he had the same reaction like a fucking teenager that can't talk to a pretty girl. So when you began acting distant only to him, he felt bad and offended, he didn't think he did anything to make you dislike him. After a while he became distant too so that you wouldn't feel uncomfortable, eventually you both started doing things to annoy each other. He only started bothering you so that you wouldn't just ignore him, he wanted you to acknowledge him even if it was in a bad way.

Hyunjin never disliked you the way you thought he did, when you started going out with Eric he was absolutely heartbroken but he wanted you to be happy even if it wasn’t with him.

So he put his feelings aside and started going out with other girls, maybe if enough time passed he could like someone else. You didn't see it, but his eyes were always on you. Always looking at you to make sure you were happy. He was right behind you when you found Eric at that party, after you walked away he could see your faltering steps, that's when he saw you fainting and caught you just in time. He told the guys about what happened before carrying you out of the house and taking you to his car, trying to be gentler than he ever was even with his paintings while adjusting you in the front seat.

You frowned even when you were unconscious, he couldn't even imagine how hurt you would be when you woke up. So he waited and waited till your eyes opened and he was relieved to see you were alright. He thought it wouldn't be good to drop the act at that moment, you could think he was pitying you. After you left the car he was sure you would cry your eyes out all alone and he couldn't do anything because the two of you weren’t close. So he urged your friends to message you asking to come by but they already had done that and you had rejected their offers. Of course you did, you like to look tough, someone that doesn't need others, but anyone that knows you a little better sees you're a softie.

When you showed up at the studio while he was painting he couldn't believe you actually came looking for him. He was so surprised to see you that he clumsily dropped the paints he was holding. He was planning to get closer to you, close enough so you would like him and when he knew you were over your shithead ex boyfriend he would go for it. Even if you didn't want to go out with him at first he would keep trying to woo you… Of course, he didn't want to force you to like him, he would wait for you to discover your feelings.

Everything went down the drain when you asked him to kiss you. Every bit of his self control just disappeared and when your lips touched his he was sure that you were it for him, the way just touching your soft lips made him feel like he was on fire, your hands wandering through his hair felt like the death of him. He could feel himself getting hard when the door opened abruptly, you silently left the closet and he fixed his pants so as not to show what was happening there. Hyunjin was embarrassed, if just one of your kisses could make him feel that way he could only imagine what it would feel like to actually have you. He couldn't stay there much longer, it was impossible to look at you without approaching you to get something more. But you weren't even looking at him, if you could just glance at him it would be enough, if you just looked at him he would be satisfied. Your eyes were staring at the floor, you didn't look pleased at all.

Did you regret kissing him? Was it that bad you couldn't even look at him? No one ever complained about that, so he thought he was good. Did he ruin everything?

He got out of the room, Hyunjin just couldn't be there for another second looking at your face full of contempt. He went downstairs looking for one of his friends and found Chan taking shots of tequila with a group of his juniors.

"Hey, wanna join us?" He asks and Hyunjin nods, maybe with one or two drinks he would feel better.

Hyunjin shouldn't have mixed drinks, he couldn't walk straight and his head was spinning. To make things worse he could swear he saw you coming in his direction so he went the other way to avoid you, he was afraid to say something stupid. That's when he found Chaeryeong, he asked her to help him get some water because he was not sure if he would be able to walk to the table where the drinks were. The moment his friend looked away someone grabbed him by the collar and kissed him. He wasn't sure of what was happening or if he was just imagining. He put his hands on the person's shoulder and stepped away feeling dizzy. Minho was close by so he dragged Hyunjin out of the party and gave him some water while he got some fresh air.

"Y/N", Hyunjin was babbling and Minho rolled his eyes.

"What is it?" He looked at his friend seated on the grass with his head between his legs, "Are you still hanging onto your crush on Y/N? Didn't you say that you would give up when she started dating?"

Minho asked those questions but he already knew the truth, his friend had never really stopped liking Y/N.

"Kissed her", Hyunjin grumbles rolling his tongue.

"What? When?"

"During that- that game" Hyunjin trips over his own tongue as he tries to answer.

“Dare…truth.. that one.” He answers, looking over at Minho with glazed eyes.

"And how did it go?" He asks, curious.

"Good, it was so so good I could die"

"Well, if you die you won't be able to kiss her again", Minho jokes seeing drunk Hyunjin pout with tears in his eyes.

"I wan kiss her again though" Minho laughs.

"Of course you do" He sighs bending down and slipping Hyunjin's right arm around his shoulder and lifting him, "Let's go home now so you can think about how to kiss her again"

Hyunjin could barely open his eyes when he woke up the next morning, he was really thirsty and his head felt like it could explode at any minute. However, he had one thing on his mind: Win you at any cost.

So he called all of your friends and asked which classes they picked this semester casually asking if any of your other friends were attending that same class. That's how he found out your schedule and sure, that sounds pretty stalkerish of him, but that's the only way he could get close to you without raising suspicion.

When you told him that he was the same as your ex he wanted earth to swallow him whole, he was so mad at himself for making you feel that way and he was hurt that you thought of him in that way. He couldn't look at you anymore, he was too hurt for that. He avoided you for the next week, afraid to meet your gaze and be faced with indifference or even worse, disgust. He didn't even attend the dinner Chan was doing because he couldn't bear to be in the same room with you. That's until he got drunk enough to make his liver beg for mercy, he couldn't even think straight anymore, so he went on a walk for some fresh air and he walked and walked until he was under a really familiar vertical garden.

•••

You got back from dinner after midnight, you are already in your pajamas ready to go to bed when you hear a "clank" coming from somewhere. You can't figure out the source of it so you ignore it until it happens again, you realize that the sound is coming from the door at the balcony. You get close trying to see what is causing the noise, You look down and notice a couple of rocks on your balcony. ‘Who the hell is throwing rocks at my window in the middle of the night?’ You open your window ready to curse at the culprit, when you look down you see Hyunjin looking at you with puppy eyes.

"What are you doing?" You ask and he smiles.

"I wanted to see your face" He answers simply.

"What are you talking about? Why would you want to see my face in the middle of the night, Hwang?"

"I like it when you say my surname" He giggles, "And the answer is: because you're beautiful" You blush wanting to die, why are you blushing? This guy is drunk for sure, bothering you in the middle of the night. So if you know that, why are you blushing? And why do you want to smile?

"Now that you got to see my face you can go home" You say, trying to close the window.

"Noooooo", he screams and you are sure he woke up half of the neighborhood. "I WANNA SEE YOUR FACE UP CLOSE"

"Shut up" You look around to make sure there's no one turning on their lights to see what's happening and when you look at him again Hyunjin is climbing the fence where the flowers are tangled in your vertical garden.

"What are you doing?" You whisper yell at him but he ignores you, continuing to climb until he's on your balcony.

You cross your arms in front of your chest looking at him, he's taking deep breaths but looking really proud of himself.

"I could have opened the door for you if you wanted to come up" You say.

"Oh" He says and smiles shyly, "I'm sorry, I wanted to be romantic" You feel your face hot before you can ask what the hell he's talking about. He looks totally disheveled, messy hair, clothes that look like pajamas and glasses he only uses at home or when he's tired and doesn't want to wear his contacts.

"Care to explain why you’re here?" You smell the alcohol on him so you can already guess.

"I already told you, I missed your pretty face", he answers, pouting like a child that has to answer to their mother after doing something wrong.

"No, you said you wanted to see my face and then said I'm beautiful, you didn't say you missed me" You pick at his words trying to think of a way to send him home without your friends knowing about this situation because you know that if they find out you're done for. They're gonna pester you for the rest of your life asking why Hyunjin would come after you while drunk and to be honest that's a question that you would like to know the answer to too.

"Ah, you're so smart, that's why I like you" He says walking and looking around your room.

"Is that right?" You ask, amused, maybe having him here while drunk isn't so bad.

"Yesssss, and you're pretty and nice and really funny and good at everything you do", you smile without even realizing, what is this guy doing to you?

"Okay, now you have to go home, alright? I have to sleep"

"Let me sleep with you, I'm really good at it" You choke on the air you inhaled, coughing violently.

"What?"

"Humm, I'm good at being the big spoon and I don't take much space in the bed and you can even sleep on my chest and I'll hug you" He's saying that and has the audacity to blush.

You decide to call the guys that lives with Hyunjin, you're not scared of their questions anymore because you're too afraid you're actually going to accept his proposition. You try Minho, and Changbin but no one's answering. Shit. You look back at Hyunjin and see him lying down on your bed.

"For god's sake, Hyunjin" You try shaking him to wake him up with no success. You sigh, what are you going to do now?

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

All characters in my writing are from my own imagination and don't represent nor reflect in any way the people in real life.

Taglist:

@hhwangsmoon @inara-a

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ashwhowrites · 9 months

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Fwb to lovers Eddie x Reader, Eddie decides to end things with her friend with benefits (reader ) because lately he had seen reader and Steve very close to each other, but Reader doesn't know that Eddie ended things with her because of Steve, and she was just trying to give advices to Steve about dating other people to forget about Nancy, so Eddie goes to Family Video to rent some movies and he sees Steve, and Eddie asks Steve how are things going with reader and Steve's like I don't like reader and she doesn't like me, so Eddie discovers that he had feelings for Reader and when he goes to her house he finds her crying in her bedroom and he confess to her and comforts her and Reader tells Eddie that she likes him too!

I hope this is what you were looking for :) thank you for requesting

FWB..again?

Y/N has forced Eddie to watch countless movies about friends with benefits never working out. The guy falls for the girl or the girl falls for the guy. It was a common plot line. And Eddie was pissed that he found himself in the same situation.

Eddie and Y/N started hooking up months ago, on a random night when they were both drunk. The next morning they tried to remain just friends, making sure nothing was awkward. But that didn't last long. They fell into each other beds over and over. Neither had a conversation about feelings or calling things off when their minds changed.

But lately, Eddie sensed something between her and Steve. And it made his blood burn. Eddie couldn't stand Steve as it was, but now he's coming after his girl? Well, not his girl, but pretty damn sure felt like it. When they were alone, she never talked about Steve, not even a tiny sentence. But every time he saw them together, they were always in a heated discussion. It was like Steve waited on every word that left her mouth.

Eddie never knew how to handle his feelings. Why else would he be friends with benefits with the girl he's secretly been in love with for years? He knew sex and he knew he did it well. But a relationship? He wasn't sure if he had what it took. Steve Harrington was a relationship guy, maybe she knew that.

Eddie didn't want to feel second best to the King Steve Harrington. He also didn't want to be her plaything while she made advances towards someone else. So he called it off. He ripped the band-aid off as fast as he could, watching the confusion take over her face. She questioned him, but he didn't give answers. He didn't admit that he was insecure and jealous of Steve. He didn't want to stand in the way of her finding the love of her life.

He just didn't know that he was the love of her life.

Eddie knew calling it off would be hard, but he didn't think of the aftermath. How even more painful it was to sleep with her scent on his pillows. Or how bad it hurt that every night it was less and less strong. He didn't talk to her much anymore. He was too embarrassed to be around her while he was keeping his heart together. She tried to keep the friendship alive, calling him and inviting him out. But he always declined. Being with her was a taste of what he couldn't have.

~~~

Y/N wasn't sure what changed with Eddie. She couldn't remember anything changing that would lead to him breaking them up. But when she asked, he didn't have anything to say. It hurt more than anything, she loved him and loved having parts of him that no one else did. Maybe that's what changed? Maybe he found someone else?

She tried to stay focused on Steve. She's been helping him with his dating life and it was a good distraction for her. Her love life was failing, but maybe she could help him.

~~~

Eddie walked around the video store for a few minutes before he caught Steve. He wanted to run before he noticed, but Steve was already waving him over.

"Hey Steve," Eddie said through his clenched teeth, passing over the horror film. Steve greeted him back and rang up his movie.

Eddie didn't want to ask and he didn't want to know. So why the hell did he ask?

"So...how's things with Y/N?"

Eddie wanted to smack himself. Steve looked at him confused as he grabbed the receipt.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh nothing, just figured you guys were together or something." Eddie shrugged, acting like the thought hadn't kept him up for days.

"Isn't she with you? Like aren't you guys together?" Steve was confused. All she talked about was Eddie, Eddie, and more Eddie.

"We aren't together." Eddie rushed out. "I mean we were! But not together, together. Just having hot sex but like that's it." He rambled

"....yeah I didn't need to know the last part." Steve cringed. He loved Y/N as a sister and hearing that made his stomach turn. "But anyway, why did you think she and I were together?"

"Just figured from seeing you guys together," Eddie explained, but now he had a feeling he sounded like an idiot.

"Oh no. I don't like her and she's into you, bud." Steve said, patting Eddie's shoulder with a tight smile.

~~~

With the confirmation from Steve's mouth that Y/N was into Eddie and Eddie alone, he raced to her house.

He nervously knocked on her door. He wasn't sure how she would react to seeing him again. Considering he ignored every possible interaction with her. To his luck, she opened the door. Her eyes were red and puffy. But she smiled at him.

"Oh hey!" She greeted him, she sounded happy and bubbly. But he could tell she was crying minutes or even seconds before she opened the door.

"Hey, can we talk?" To his surprise, she welcomed him inside and led him to her room. A room he'd been in many times but now felt like a stranger standing in it.

"What's up?" She asked, sitting on her bed as she faced him. He stood near her doorway, ready for a fast exit in case she wanted to scream at him for messing everything up.

"I think you deserve to know why I ended things." He said, playing with his rings as he watched her. Her smile fell, like the reminder of what he did washed over her again.

"Um, yeah. It would be nice to have that closure." She agreed.

"I'm kind of an idiot," he began, smiling as she laughed. "I like you, and I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you. And it scared me. But I also got scared because I thought something was happening between you and Steve. I didn't want to be in the way of a relationship that would be good for you! So I figured running away seemed like the best idea. I'm sorry for hurting you and us."

"I don't like Steve at all " she said quickly.

"Which I know! He told me. He said you were into me." Eddie explained

She blushed and was a little annoyed Steve told him, but at the same time that's what brought Eddie back to her.

"Well it's true, I like you. And I'm pretty sure I love you too. Then you dumped me out of nowhere and I thought maybe you found someone else. I was only with Steve because he wanted help with his sucky dating life." Y/N chuckled.

Eddie finally moved his legs, sitting next to her as he grabbed her hand.

"Never will there be anyone else. It's like those shitty movies you make me watch. Where you scream at the TV because the two characters are in love but don't do anything about it." He explained. He loved the way she smiled and laughed again.

"Maybe we shouldn't be those characters. Maybe we should do something about it." She whispered, leaning in towards him.

"I think so too " he whispered back. His lips melted against hers as he kissed her. He hummed at the familiar taste and feeling.

Eddie Munson could be a relationship guy too

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #ashwhowrites #eddie munson angst to fluff

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