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#and before i even knock on the door i see their doormat
lvrxly · 4 months
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ִ ࣪𖤐- An Odd Feeling
Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader
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summary: your neighbor, Simon, is a single dad. and you frequently babysit his son, Oliver. You've grown to love Oliver, buying toys for him, planning play dates, and even offering to babysit him while his dad goes on a date..wait what? You really thought after all of this Simon would choose you, but maybe he will..?
cw: simon is somewhat oblivious at the beginning >:((, mdni - smut, slight age difference (Simon is in his mid-30s while the reader is in her mid-20s), unprotected sex, breeding kink on Simon's part, oral sex (f receiving), Simon can't help but want another kid after seeing how you treat his :((
a/n: sorry this took so long to get posted! and i apologize for any grammar mistakes, i don't have the energy to edit this right now ;( (it's almost 4am).
hope you enjoy lovies ;)
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"Thanks again for this love, I should be back around 9pm, please try and get him to bed before then," Ghost says frantically as he passes his son over to you along with his diaper bag and favorite blanket.
There was that damned nickname again. 'Love'. Simon always seemed to call you love, it was almost infuriating how that little pet name could make your heart race and your cheeks heat.
Simon had a date with someone a friend of his set up for him, Soap, you think was the guys name. From a photo Simon showed you, she was pretty, gorgeous even. Slim and tall, long blonde hair, and seemingly put together.
"Yeah no problem. Have fun, try and get laid. You definitely need it," You say with a dry laugh, bouncing his son, Oliver, over to your other hip. Why the fuck would you say that? 'Get laid?' Why would you even suggest such a fucking thing knowing you can barely stomach watching him go out on this date in the first place.
He cleans up nice, a fitted pair of dark grey khaki pants with a white button up shirt, the sleeves rolled, revealing his tattooed forearms, and his sandy blonde hair slicked back out of his face, making him less shaggy looking than you were used to.
Simon laughs and waves goodbye as he turns on the heels of his dress shoes and hops down the steps of your front porch. You wave at his back, shutting the door with a heavy sigh. You turn around and set Oliver down, watching as he bolts toward the little corner of your living room which you had designated as his play area for when he comes over.
Your heart feels heavy as you walk over towards your couch, tossing Oliver's diaper bag and blanket onto one of the cushions. You flop down onto the other cushion, kicking your feet up on the coffee table that is placed in front of your couch.
Oliver looks just like his father, from what you could see anyways. Dirty blonde hair, gunmetal blue eyes, and a small dimple on his left cheek. He was an adorable kid, an easy one to babysit too.
Oliver runs up to you, a toy tractor in his hand as he holds it up to you, his other hand rested on your knee as if to help him balance better. "Tac-tar!" He exclaims.
You smile at him, taking the toy he was offering you, and touching your fingertip on his nose, causing the little boy to giggle. Enough about Simon. Oliver was your date tonight. Your own play date buddy.
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It was a little after 9pm, maybe just about 9:47, when Simon got back. He had knocked on your door for a good 5 minutes before he gave up and decided to let himself in.
He used the key that you would poorly hide under your doormat. The two of you would get into arguments about the placement of the key.
"It's the most obvious spot, love, you're gonna end up getting robbed on of these days." Simon had said the day you told him where it was, he was always worrying about your safety. You knew he was an ex-military Lieutenant, but then again that might just be the dad in him talking.
After unlocking your front door and pushing it open he begins to speak, "Sorry I was a little later than I thou-" But he cuts himself off after his eyes land on your couch.
There you laid on your back, an arm falling off the couch and a leg propped up on the back cushion, snoring lightly. That position couldn't have been that comfortable. But that's not what made him freeze. It was how his son was laying on your chest, fast asleep with his favorite blanket draped over his back. You looked as if his son was your own.
His breathe is caught in his throat as he stares at the two of you, slowly shutting the door behind him as he makes his way over to the couch.
A small smile paints his face as he stands behind the small and slightly sad turquoise couch, bending down so his forearms rested in the back cushion. He watches you sleep, his eyes dragging up and down your frame. After a moment he uses a single finger to brush a stray piece of hair off of your face, tucking it behind your ear.
His smile never falters as he pets the back of his sons head, his long blonde hair slightly sweaty from how hot it probably was being all nuzzled up to you.
You stir in your sleep, your eyes fluttering, only for them to end up shooting wide open in shock. You gasp and clutch the back of Oliver, sighing after realizing who was really watching you sleep.
You sit up, cradling Oliver in your arms, careful not to wake him. "Do you normally watch people sleep?" You say with an annoyed look on your face as you rub your eyes, sleep still attempting to pull you back in.
After regaining most of your consciousness, you stand from the couch, your clothes wrinkled and Oliver's little head on your shoulder as you hold him in your arms.
"Eh, define normally," Simon says, a joking tone noticeable in his voice. Was he trying to make a joke? Since when did Simon Riley ever makes jokes? What the hell happened at the date?
"Your in a good mood. You didn't really end up getting laid right? You know what..? I don't think I wanna know." Your words are frantic and slightly irritated. Why did you feel so...odd right now? Simon is a single man. He has the right to go on dates with beautiful women. Unfortunately.
You bounce around your kitchen, rocking your hips side to side to keep Oliver asleep for as long as possible. You can't help but notice how Simons eyes follow your hips as they move. And..what was that? Did he just groan? No no, that would be crazy.
"No I didn't get laid," He finally replies. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. Almost like a breath of relief.
"If I was getting laid I would have gotten back a lot later..It takes more than 30 minutes with me, love.." Simon was suddenly behind you, his breath hot on your neck as his hands hover above your hips, heat radiating off of his tatted skin, almost scorching the flesh of your thighs through your pants.
You stop bouncing his son, glancing over your shoulder at Simon and..holy shit he was close, almost too close. Those damned eyes were pulling you under and you didn't know if you wanted to be saved.
Oliver shifts in your arms, waking up slowly. His tiny hands rub his eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them. Once he's awake and spots his dad he immediately makes grabby hands towards him.
You gladly hand him over to Simon, anything to get away from the man that was way way wayyyy to close for comfort. You give Oliver to his father and take a large step away from Simon. You see his smile falter but he quickly regains his composure when his son calls his name, his tiny hands on Simons cheeks.
"You have fun while I was away buddy?" He asks his son, to which Oliver responds with a vigorous nod. He then begins to blabble on about his trucks and snacks he ate, but you space out, your eyes still locked on the two of them.
Simon looked so good with a kid, he was a good dad. You can't help but imagine how good he must have been to his wife while she was pregnant. Her lose for leaving him. He's a great guy. Unfortunately, that means women probably throw themselves at him. Hot, ex-military, AND good with kids??? Yeah, they definitely do. And you would to, if you were so full of self doubt.
"Love?" You hear Simon say, his eyes now focused on you as Oliver was seemingly put down to go play for a little longer.
"I asked if you're free this weekend? Oliver is going over to his grandparents for a few days and I was wondering if you'd like to do something?" His voice was shy...that was weird. It's almost like-
"Are you asking me on a date?" You say, a teasing smirk playing across your lips.
"No no, well- no it's not like that. Just as friends, you know- without the ruckus of that one running around." When he says "that one" he points towards Oliver, who was currently crashing two tractors together and making a crash sound with his mouth.
"You know what? Sure Simon. I'll see you then."
He smiles, nodding softly as he runs his hands through his hair, the gelled effect must have worn off because it was back to its shaggy state, almost getting to the point it reached his eyes. He needed a haircut, but it's not like you didn't like the shaggy look. It was unexpectedly sexy.
Maybe it was just your hormones talking but everything about this man was unexpectedly sexy. His tired eyes from sleepless nights and early mornings, his tatted arms, a few of the tattoos colored in with what seemed like marker from Oliver, and his tall frame, almost towering over you to the point you had to look up to see his face.
You did suggest that he should get laid, but maybe you're the one who really needed the action. It's been who knows how long, and your getting so desperate that you literally can't look at him without butterflies fluttering in your stomach as well as..further south.
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After sending Simon and his son home, you immediately ran to your bedroom, quickly stripping out of your clothes and hopping into the warm water of your shower. With your back to the water and your hands in your hair, you can't help but let your mind wander back to your neighbor.
What was he doing right now? Was he helping Oliver brush his teeth? Was he just getting into the shower too? Was his shower water warm or cool? Did he have tattoos elsewhere? What did the soap look like running down his chest and down his legs..?
Okay, you need to go to bed. Sleep would do the trick. Right?
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Wrong. Sleep 100% didn't do the trick. Two full days of almost nothing but sleep and this man has been filling your head with thought of him, some more naughty than other. He had crawled into your dreams, your thoughts, and your daily life in general. You cant even pour creamer into your coffee without seeing his smug ass face in your mug.
It was now the weekend, around 7pm on a Saturday. The sun had already gone down and you were sitting in your living room, a random cheesy rom com on the television as you scrolled on your phone. You scrolled through your feed, seeing videos of your college friends out partying, drinking, and having fun. Then there was you, sitting at home with day old mascara on your lashes and sleep evident on your face.
There was a heavy knock on your door, with a raised brow you hop up from your couch and make your way over to the door, peaking through the peep hole to see who it was. And to your surprise, it was exactly who you were thinking of.
There Simon stood, a bottle of champagne and a single red rose in his hands as he bounces on his heels, he was back to his regular shaggy look, unkempt hair, white t-shirt, blue jeans, and his silver dog tag hanging from his neck.
Quickly, you open the door with a smile and invite the man in. As he walks in towards your kitchen counter you quickly become aware of your appearance. Old makeup on your face, and crinkled clothes that you couldn't be bothered to iron.
However, at this point the two of you have seen each other at your worst, hell you've seen Simon running off of two hours of sleep with a sick little Oliver who wouldn't stop crying and coughing.
"Champagne and a rose? This feels like a date to me.." You tease running a hand across his shoulder as you pass him, earning a shiver from the man. you stand on the opposite side of the kitchen island as he takes a seat on one of the barstool chairs you have, sliding the bottle towards you.
"Take it however you want love." He laughs, running his fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face, his bicep flexing in the process, and holy fuck.
You shake your head and pop open the bottle of champagne. "I'm glad I know you and Oliver, he's a good kid."
"You're such a big help with the little guy, I honestly don't know what I'd do without you. He loves you a lot." Simon is more soft spoken than usual as he twirls the rose between his fingertips.
You're frantically searching your cabinets for those champagne glasses you got all those years ago but have never used. You swear you still had them.
"It's no biggy. He's a joy to have around and probably one of my only friends!" You laugh, sighing after you cant find those dumbass champagne glasses and grabbing two mugs out of the cabinet instead. Not quite what you'd normally drink something like champagne out of, but it would have to work.
"So I'm not considered a friend? I see how it is," Simon fakes a hurt expression as he takes a mug from you with a raised brow. His shoulders shake in silent laughter after he looks at the mug to which it read "Male Tears" in big black lettering.
You laugh along with him, "Eh, I kinda like your son more than you, he's less broody," You tease, pouring the champagne into each of your mugs. Your mug saying "Reading is Sexy" with blue lettering.
There the two of you sat, at your kitchen island drinking cheap champagne out of coffee mugs with a single red rose placed between the two of you.
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After a few hours and an entire bottle of champagne, the two of you sat on your couch together, a movie on your tv.
You sat with your legs draped across Simons lap, his hand resting on your knee as his fingers gently rubbed circles into your skin. It tickled, but in a good way.
You fought sleep, your eyelids slowly shutting and reopening. Your breath was calm and slow, a comfortable silence had fallen between the two of you.
"Gettin' sleepy love?" Simon asks with a chuckle, his deep blue eyes lingering on you as he rubs up and down the length of your leg.
You don't bother answering verbally, you don't have the energy. You shake your head in a quiet and small 'no', your hand coming up to rub your eyes. What time was it? It couldn't be that late.
With a groan, you sit up and grab your phone off of the coffee table, tapping your screen a few times for it to turn on. Your screen nearly blinds you, a curse falling from you lips as Simon merely chuckles next to you. 11:57. Almost midnight already? You thought, there's no way.
Simon peaks over your shoulder and shakes his head, running his hands over his face with a yawn. "Surely I haven't been here all that long, it's definitely past our bedtimes," he teases as he moves your legs off of his, standing from the couch with a stretch, his shirt lifting, showing off a fucking happy trail. This man was too hot for his own good. It had to be a crime at this point.
You stand next to him, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you yawn, making your way lazily towards the direction of your bedroom.
"I better get ta' goin'-" Simon begins, before you cut him off.
"Oh please, theres no way in hell you came over here just to hang out as friends, Simon." Your voice is low as you stand before him, your bodies mere inches apart as you stare up at him. Messy hair, sleepy eyes, and those god damn dimples shining through as he smirks down at you. You fuckin' knew it.
His arms wrap around your waist, his face nearing yours as he walks you backwards into your kitchen, your hips hitting the kitchen island. "I've been caught."
His breath smelling of cheap champagne and cigarettes as his lips grazed yours. His lips are soft as he finally kisses you, fitting perfectly against yours.
Simons hands remove themselves from your waist, landing on the kitchen island, trapping you between him and the counter. You deepen the kiss, standing on your tippy toes to match his force, earning an audible groan from the blonde man in front of you.
When the kiss ends, nothing but heavy panting and quiet curses fill the air. "Fuckin' hell love.." he whispers against your neck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses up and down your warm skin.
Quiet whimpers leave your lips as his lips work their way up to your ear, where he whispers a phrase that makes your knees want to buckle. "Get on the fuckin' counter doll, I've waited far to long for this and my tongue is tingling for your taste.."
Obviously, you do as he says, hopping up onto the cool granite. "Atta girl," he says, his voice raspy as he tugs the waistband of your pants down, pulling them off your legs as if he's been craving you for years. Maybe he has been..
In a swift motion he pushed you onto your back, earning a quiet yelp from you as your back touched the cold surface. With his eyes glued on your panties and his hands on your plush thighs you can't help but whimper, letting your head fall back onto the counter top.
"Fuckin hell lovie, you're already so wet..." Simon says through gritted teeth, the pad of this thumb rubbing slow circles against your clit, the feeling of the pressure over the fabric of your panties was enough for you to clench around nothing.
"Simon please-" you whimper, your hips rolling against his touch, eager for more. This draws a chuckle from the man in front of you, he pulls his hand away with a smug smirk on his lips.
Not another word is shared between the two of you before Simon is kneeled on the tile flooring and he has your legs over his shoulders, his face at perfect height with your core. He pulls your panties to the side, groaning at the sight before him. He was so fucking hard right now, straining against the zipper of his pants.
He blows a cool puff of air against your cunt, watching as it flutters before it, his smirk never falters as he runs his thumb over your cunt, coving his finger in your juices.
"Riley I swear to the gods, if you don't stop playing with your food-" you begin, getting cut off with his tongue against your slit and his thumb rubbing circles against your sensitive bundle of nerves. His tongue works in and out of you, flicking and sucking, the noises that fill the kitchen are positively hypnotic. Your whimpers and moans mixed with the wet noises of Simons tongue between your legs. And to top it off, every time you buck your hips against his face he moans, a low growl like noise that makes you absolutely drip.
Simon is only using one hand to hold open your legs, his right hand has traveled down to his pants, unzipping his jeans and finally giving himself that oh so needed friction that he's been deprived of. His tongue goes flat against your cunt, his head shaking side to side, flicking his tongue every so often, just enough to catch the tip of your clit.
He palms himself through his boxers, rutting into the palm of his hand. "You like that baby? You're gettin' louder.." he teases as he sucks on your clit, causing your back to arch off of the counter top and your hands to fly to his hair, tugging on the blonde strands, pressing his face into your greedy little cunt even more.
"Simon! Right fucking there, please please please..." You moan, your thighs threatening to close around his head as your legs shake with pleasure. Your breath is quick and your moans are loud as Simon god damn Riley holds your legs open, sucking and licking your clit, you were about to fall apart right then and there, but after he shoves two fingers into your cunt you absolutely crumble.
The orgasm rushes throughout your body, your grip on his hair tight. He doesn't stop though, his tongue stays glued to your clit, his fingers moving at a pace that makes your writhe, drawing out this heavenly orgasm as long as he can.
You're already fucked out as he pulls his fingers out of you, kissing your fluttering cunt, kissing up your torso and tugging your shirt over your head to kiss all the way up your lips. This kiss was everything passionate, the taste of you still lingering on his lips.
Your eyelids are heavy and your chest rises with a quick pace, still trying to come down from your high. Sweat glitters your skin, your panties hanging from your ankle and your mascara running down your cheeks. "So beautiful, so fucking gorgeous baby.." Simon whispers as he kissed you on the forehead, running his hands over your cheeks. "But we're not done yet, no no no, this night isn't over until I fill you up so full that Oliver will have a fucking sibling by tomorrow.." His voice is deep and sultry, pulling you up off the counter by your wrists and tossing you over his shoulder like a damn sack of potatoes.
With a yelp from you, Simon gives a little smacks to your ass. His quick strides make it to your bedroom in no time at all. He tossed you on the bed, you landing on your back, your toes bouncing along with the mattress, earning a low curse from the man in front of you. He stands at the end of your bed, quickly pulling his pants and boxers off of himself. He can't go another fucking second without being inside of you.
The image of this man crawling on top of you, his ink covered arms on either side of your head and your legs on either side of your hips as he pressed against you. It was all so much, your cunt was dripping, and from what you could see so was the tip of his cock.
Holy shit his cock, it was huge, veins running up and down the length of it. You figured he was from the start, but now that it's in front of you, how the hell will it all fit?
His hands reach for your thighs, pushing them up so your knees neared your ears, the tip of his cock teases the entrance of your cunt, the bead of pre-cum smearing all over your clit. You wiggle your hips, eager for something, anything but this fucking torturous teasing that this man seems so obsessed with.
"Simon.." You moan, earning a groan from the man. His eyes have not left you this entire time, his gaze wandering up and down your figure with a look of biting desire.
"Moaning my name like that..fuck," He groans through gritted teeth, pressing the tip of his cock inside, fucking finally.
You suck in a breath through your teeth, biting down on your bottom lip as you grip the sheets.
Simons eyes shut with pleasure as he pushes into you. Only to open once again to watch your face, watching for any looks of displeasure, he makes it about half way when your eyebrows furrow and your hand flies to his torso, pressing against his abdomen as a way to tell him to stop for a second.
"It's okay lovie, breath, you're taking me so well.." He whispers, leaning down to kiss your cheek, kissing away a single stray tear that had seemingly rolled down your cheek. Slowly, he continues to push into you, the two of you share a mutual moan as he finally bottoms out, his stomach pressed flush against your clit.
"Good girl, my good girl baby, yes.." He moans, his hands under your knees as he holds one leg over his shoulder and the other off the the side.
Your whimpers, his groans, and the smell of sex fills the bedroom. You rock your hips, indicating the need for friction. With pleasure, Simon gives you what you needs, rolling his hips and pulling out about half way before slamming back inside you. Your loud moans and pleases for more, more, more fill the room, causing Simon to let out a guttural groan, hai cock twitching inside of you.
Simon shifted his hips, dragging his cock out of you. It glistened with your arousal, and it made his face grow hot. He bit back a whimper when he pushed inside you once more. You gasped, and he did it again. Again and again until he had a set a rhythm that had your entire body on fire, writhing against the mattress.
"Yes yes, fuck Simon, makin' m' feel so good, I-" You whimper, your legs shaking and your eyes squeezed shut out of pure pleasure.
Simon had reached a hand down and was now rubbing circles on your clit. Your words had his brain swimming, his thrusts deepening and pace quickening. The tight ball of pleasure was drawing tighter and tighter in the base of your tummy, your cunt fluttering around his cock.
"Fuck baby, you feel so good..wanna put a fuckin baby in you lovie..." His voice is low, his groans turning into whimpers as his thrusts become sloppy, he's nearing his own climax. Your own peak is nearing, your cunt fluttering around his cock, clenching and squeezing as he moves at a pace that is absolutely intoxicating.
"Come for me, baby," he whispered. "Come on my cock. That's it, baby, yeah– good fuckin' girl."
His finger moves quickly against your clit, rubbing as his cock bullies in and out of your greedy little cunt. The force of his thrusts make your tits bounce, earning deep and needy groans from the back of Simons throat.
You came around his cock with a sob of his name, your cunt squeezing him tight as the ball of pressure snapped in your tummy. Your orgasm was hard, slamming over you and rendering you breathless, your head floating. Your clit pulsed beneath the movements of his fingers.
The tightness of your cunt earned a fucked out moan from Simon as he slams in and out of you, reaching even deeper than before. You wanted to scream. He was so deep. You were so full.
"Such a good girl, suck a greedy little cunt— so tight I don't think I'll be able to pull out-, yes baby.." He blabbered helplessly as he becomes utterly pussydrunk, his head lolling back and his eyes closing with pleasure.
"M'gonna come in this tight cunt," Si whispered, almost too quiet for you to hear. He spoke louder when he continued his sentence. "You want my cum, baby? You want me to come inside you? Want me to fill you up, fill this pretty tummy?"
"Yes! Please—!" You practically scream.
"I will— I'll fill you up with all of my fuckin' cum.." He moans, his thrusts sloppy and his grip on your thighs bruising. "Take it all like a good girl," he moaned. "Get you–fuck —get you pregnant. Fill you up with my kids. I'd look after you, baby."
You were basically screaming.
And with that Simon cums, your name falling from his lips as the white hot liquid spills from his cock into you. He doesn't pull out, tugging you up so that you straddled his hips, his hands on your as as he holds you up, him leaning back against the heels of his feet. The two of you share a tender kiss, his lips softly kissing your lips, cheeks, and neck.
"Fuckin' hell love.." He laughs, his voice raspy. He finally pulls out, a deep groan slipping from his lips as he watches his cum drip out of that sweet little cunt. Carefully, he lays you back down on the mattress, staring down at you with low eyes and a small smile on his lips.
"You were so good just now, you know that? So beautiful, so fuckin' hot-" He moves so he's laid beside you, his chest pressed against your back as he rubs small circles on your hip with his finger. "-I loved your moans, and the feeling of your pussy..just stay like this with me for a second, yeah?" His hand runs up and down your side, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence as his breath tickles the back of your neck.
What an odd feeling. It all felt as if everything had always been like this. As if the two of you were meant to be, and this was all just natural.
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Simon and You sit in your living room together, his hand on your thigh and Oliver running back and forth with a superman action figure in hand making a 'swooshhh' sound with his mouth.
The promise ring on your finger sparkles as you look down at it, you can't take your eyes off the damn thing. It's been a week since he's given it to you, but every time you eye catches the little piece of jewelry you can't help but stare.
Three years of crushing and helping him raise his kid. One night of his name being moaned and orgasm after orgasm. Two weeks form that night he asked you out. It's been four months since he asked you to be his girlfriend. Everything seemed to be moving so quickly. But not, at the same time. It feels like you've know each other forever so it was natural. Nothing odd about falling in love so quickly.
Or maybe the love has always been there, it was the commitment and the confessions and the confusing mixed signals that were messing with the process.
But in the end everything had fallen in place. Simon still lives next door, but that is gonna change soon. He spends more and more time over at your place than his own. Both his and Oliver's clothes litter your laundry, and instead of one lonely toothbrush in the bathroom, there's now three.
Pink, Blue, and a tiny red one for Oliver.
This was how it was meant to be. Simon, Oliver, and you. And possibly another one. Simon is pretty eager for that addition. Now that was a little fast even for you.
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a/n: not to singledad!simon anymore. <33
p.s.- i tagged everyone who i saw asked to be, sorry if i missed ya! and thank you all so so much for all the love. i love all of ya so so much! <33
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froggibus · 1 year
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The Three Times You Share A Bed - Leon S Kennedy
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Pairing: Leon Kennedy x reader
Genre: fluff, some light angst thrown in towards the end?
Word Count: 2.7k
Summary: two times you sleep in leon's bed, and the one time he sleeps in yours
CW: roommate! Leon, kinda friends to lovers?, light angst, abandonment issues, paranoia, fear + insomnia, mentions of zombies, bedsharing, leon has intimacy issues (get therapy challenge)
OMG HAPPY RE4 RELEASE!!! I am SO excited to play once im done work this weekend! Leon looks so damn fine in the gameplay ive seen and i am going FERAL! pls no spoilers for anything new in the game! <3
RE4 remake spoiler free zone!! I have yet to play the remake so there are no spoilers in this!
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The telltale clicking of a key in the door has you on your feet in seconds, abandoning the plush throw blanket on the couch. Before it even opens, you’re standing on the doormat. You feel a little silly, like a golden retriever waiting for its owner, but the shame is washed away when Leon steps through the door.
It’s been three weeks since you’ve last seen your roommate and best friend, and just as long since you last had company. He raises an eyebrow at the sight of you standing in front of him, the dark circles under his eyes becoming more prominent. 
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He sighs and drops his backpack on the floor, locking the door behind him.
“How was it?”
You fight the urge to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and inhale his scent, knowing that’s not what friends do. Still, the feeling is there and if he went in for it, you’d reciprocate in a heartbeat.
He opens the fridge and beams at the fully stocked drinks and snacks. He cracks open a can of cider and leans against the counter. “Long,” he admits, “way too long. And my nose is still burning from the smell of rotten flesh.” You crinkle your nose at the thought. Leon’s never been much of a talker and most of his work being classified didn’t help. Whenever something wasn’t top secret, though, you were sure to sit there and listen no matter how horrific the details were.
You settle in on the couch next to the agent, listening to him drone on about a zombie-like creature that had peeling flesh and fifty eyes. You could vividly picture it from his words alone, and the image of the creature sent a shiver up your spine.
Leon talks for hours, spilling every miniscule detail of every horror he encounters. You stay the whole time, nodding along. Leon laughs at the way you scrunch your face in disgust or close your eyes in fear. He hates how cute you are, but he can’t seem to stop telling you stories. After many hours and a few drinks between the two of you, he’s almost run out of stories to tell.
Leon pats your shoulder gently, collecting his cans from where he’d set them on the coffee table. “I need a shower,” he states. “I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n.”
“Go shower. You stink,” you joke and punch him in the ribs.
He feigns injury at your blow, pretending to suck in a breath like you’d really hurt him. He keeps up the facade the whole way to his bedroom, only leaving character when he shuts the door behind him.
It’s only when he’s disappeared that you realize how late it's gotten—and how dark. Even though your shared apartment is on the 19th floor, you can’t help but worry something is going to crawl through your window. You shake the thoughts away and get ready for bed, but every gust of wind and rustling of leaves makes you flinch.
You close your eyes and tug your comforter over your head, hoping that if there is something out there, it won’t know you’re there. You toss and turn for a while longer, staying dead quiet and pushing your fears away.
Finally, you can’t take it anymore. You take a deep breath, throw your comforter off of your shoulders, and sprint to Leon’s room. It’s like your brain is on autopilot—it knows exactly where to go to be safe.
You don’t knock on the door, instead quietly twisting the knob and slipping in through a crack in the door. Leon sits up as soon as your feet touch the wooden floor, eyes snapping towards your silhouette. He’s been a light sleeper ever since Racoon City, waking at the slightest of sounds.
He relaxes at the sight of you but only for a second. He glances at his digital clock, eyes widening at the time. “Y/n? What are you still doing up?”
“I-I couldn’t sleep…I feel like a flesh eating zombie is going to climb through my window and eat me.”
He chuckles. “That would be my fault.” He shuffles over in bed and pulls back the comforter. “You’re more than welcome to stay here for the night.”
You crawl into bed next to him, keeping as much distance between the two of you as possible. You can feel his body heat radiating through the blankets and smell his body wash on his skin. The feeling is new, yet so familiar it eases you instantly.
“Leon?”
He hums in response.
“Is it safer to sleep next to the window or the door? From like, a secret agent standpoint.”
“We’re on the 19th floor so window, but unless it's a hotel room, the door. You would more than likely hear it if they broke down the front door so you’d have more time to get out.”
You think for a second. “Can we switch places?”
“Honestly, y/n,” he laughs dryly, “the safest place to sleep right now is next to me.”
Your face warms at that and you nod, relaxing into his pillows. While you drift off to sleep, Leon watches over you. He knows nothing is going to come for you here, but he did promise to keep you safe, and he’ll keep that promise no matter what.
When you get home, you’re in a foul mood. You practically throw the groceries onto the counter before walking to your room and throwing yourself onto your bed. It’s been a long day. All of the stores were so busy you could hardly get through the aisles, and all of the people you encountered were rude.
Leon comes out of his room a few minutes later. Seeing the groceries abandoned on the counter, his first thought is to check on you. He doesn’t check on you, though. Not yet, anyway. He knows you’ll just be more upset if the frozen items melt and the milk sits out all night, so he sets out on putting them away.
After almost an hour of laying in your bed trying to recuperate after the day you’ve had, you’re snapped out of it by a text.
Leon: Come here, I have a surprise for you
You don’t feel like leaving your bed, but you force yourself out of it anyway. It’s not Leon you’re mad at. Leon is probably the only person in the world you don’t hate right now. You knock on his door softly, holding your arms behind your back.
“Come in!” He shouts.
You open the door, shuffling into his room and closing it behind you. Your jaw drops when you see a tray in the middle of his bed piled high with your favorite snacks, drinks and two wine glasses. Leon pats the spot next to him and you’re happy to oblige, relaxing onto the mattress.
“You didn’t have to do this, you know.”
He shrugs, pouring you a glass of wine. “It already seems like you had a bad day, I just wanted to do something to make it a little better for you.”
“Thank you.” He nods in acknowledgement, turning on his tv and handing you the remote. “You can choose the first movie. Just—maybe no zombies?”
You snort at that. Classic Leon, using his corny jokes to make light of even the worst of situations. You settle on an old favorite movie you love, handing the remote back to the blond and switching it for a wine glass.
Between your favorite movie, the delicious wine and your favorite snacks, your spirits are lifted in no time. One movie turns into two, and two turns into three. Soon enough, you’re dozing off in Leon’s bed.
He moves the tray of snacks and the glasses off of the bed to give you more room to sprawl out. Laying down next to you, he watches you sleep. A part of him wishes he could see this every night—the same sight he fantasizes about on even the hardest of missions.
He flicks off the lamp on his side table and settles in. “Good night, cutie,” he mumbles, knowing you’re far too deep in sleep to hear him.
You wake up in the middle of the night, moonlight streaming through the window and illuminating Leon’s bedroom. You’re still numb from sleep, your senses dulled just enough that it takes you a minute to realize that something is grabbing you. No, not grabbing—holding. 
You blink a few times. Leon is laying next to you, his chest pressed to your back, his arms around your waist. You can feel the slow beating of his heart and the heat coming off of his skin. He’s so close it overwhelms you, yet it’s all you’ve ever wanted.
You think about slipping away but you know what a light sleeper he is, and you don’t think you could handle it if he woke up and saw how close you were. You close your eyes and try to calm the beating in your heart so you can fall back asleep.
When you wake up again, Leon is gone. Your body feels cold where his once was. You sit up—is he showering? He can’t be, the bathroom door is open. You sit up, letting the blankets fall off of you. You swing your legs over the side of his bed, walking out to the kitchen, but he’s not there either.
Did he leave to go get something? 
You check your phone, expecting to see a text saying he ran out to go get more milk or something, but there’s nothing. You sigh, typing up a message and sending it to him.
Y/N: where’d you go?
You practically jump when your phone lets out a noise, but your heart sinks when you see what it is.
Message Not Delivered. Try Again?
You sigh. That can only mean one thing: he’s on another mission. Typical Leon, disappearing in the middle of the night to go god knows where for god knows how long. The frustration bubbles up in your chest and you feel like hitting something, but you don’t. It’s not worth it.
You try to keep your mind off of his sudden disappearance by throwing yourself into chores. You wash his bedding and make his bed, then wash your own. You sweep and mop the floors and vacuum the carpets. You dust the blinds.
It doesn’t help.
Your mind keeps wandering back to the fact that he left without saying goodbye. That he woke up at some ungodly hour, saw you laying in his arms, got up and left without another word. He didn’t even leave a note. He really cares that little. 
You shake your head and even though the pit in your stomach makes you feel like not eating, you make yourself a sandwich regardless. Seeing the untouched groceries in the fridge just adds to the feeling.
Even though you know he’s not going to get it, you pull out your phone and start typing.
Y/N: do you at least know when you’ll be back?
Message Not Delivered. Try Again?
The message makes you roll your eyes. Leon fucking Kennedy.
A week goes by, and then two, and you still hear nothing from your roommate. You send texts here and there, hoping for an answer, but none of them go through. Eventually, you start venting to him through there, too. Expressing how frustrated you are that he didn’t say goodbye, how annoying your feelings are, how sometimes you wish you didn’t know him so you didn’t have to go through this.
It’s a random Sunday night when you’re sitting on the couch, watching trash reality tv and eating snacks. It’s cold in the apartment, but you can’t be bothered to turn on the heat. Only when your arms puff up with goosebumps do you scour the room for a sweater, settling on a random one hanging on the back of a chair.
It’s Leon’s, an old one from the Police Academy. His smell floods your nose when you pull it over your head, and it's so bittersweet you don’t know if you should laugh or cry. You settle back on the couch, but a rustling at the window makes you freeze in your tracks.
It stops for a moment, and you can almost convince yourself you’ve imagined it or it’s a part of the show—until it happens again. You scramble for the remote, pausing it so you can hear better. The noise starts again, and you waste no time in hightailing it to your bedroom and slamming the door behind you.
You flop onto your bed, trying (and failing) to remind yourself that it’s just the wind. That you’re safe here. But it’s hard when it’s late and you’re tired and you’re alone and the only person you feel safe with just abandoned you.
You curl up into a ball, pulling Leon’s sweater over your mouth and inhaling the familiar scent. It’s enough to calm you down, if only for a few moments. If you close your eyes, you can almost trick yourself into thinking he’s there, and for now, that’s good enough.
Leon knows he fucked up when he gets back to the country and turns on his phone. Almost fifty messages from you, each one more sad than the last. He wants to slap himself—why couldn’t he just grow a pair and say goodbye? Why did he have to be so noncommittal?
He reads every message on the cab ride back to the apartment, and his heart breaks for you. He didn’t think about how you would drive yourself crazy over him or how worried you must have been. All he thought about was getting the call for the mission in the middle of the night and not wanting to wake you up.
But he didn’t abandon you. He thought about you every day and god—he wishes he could have talked to you. Hearing your voice and seeing your face was enough to make everything better. With the horrors he’s seen lately, all he wants is to be back in that bed with you for one more night.
He’s quiet coming into the apartment, hoping he doesn’t wake you up or scare you. And even though he knows you’re sleeping, he’s still disappointed you’re not waiting at the door for him.
He tosses his backpack into his room and strips off all of his holsters and velcro.  He’s quiet walking down the hallway to your room and even quieter opening the door. He relaxes at the sight of you curled up in a ball. 
You look so cute and so peaceful and—is that his sweater? The sight brings a smile to his face. He closes the door behind him with a soft click, climbing into the bed next to you.
You wake up when the bed dips down and arms wrap around you. You’re so tired you don’t even care who or what it is.
“If you’re gonna kill me, can you at least let me sleep first?” You mumble.
You fully awake as soon as you hear Leon’s laugh.
“You’re back?” You say, and you hate the way your voice cracks. 
You turn around to face him, tired ocean eyes meeting yours. He nods sleepily, “‘m sorry I didn’t say goodbye. It was stupid of me.”
“It’s okay,” and it really is okay. All the resentment you felt melted away at the sight of him. 
“C’mere,” he mumbles. 
You lay your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around him. You can hear his heart rate slow down at the contact. 
“I just—I just need you tonight.” Those are big words coming from the agent, and they leave you completely stunned. He must have seen or done something horrible while he was away for him to be this vulnerable, even with you.
“You can have me tonight.” You try to keep your voice even, “you can have me whenever you need me,”
He kisses the top of your head. “But I always need you.”
“Then I’m always yours.”
Neither of you speak after that, Leon falling into a light sleep. You stay up a while longer, watching the blond boy rest beneath you. He looks so fragile like this, you can’t imagine him fighting off monsters and handling weapons. You kiss his collarbone through his shirt and let yourself fall asleep with him. 
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beenbaanbuun · 23 days
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the bed w/ jongho
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words - 🤠
genre - fluff/friends to lovers
warnings - pure fluff, nothing else
“why are you in my bed,” jongho grumbles as he storms through his bedroom door
he kicks his shoes off, not paying any attention to where they land before crawling onto the bed himself
you’d spread yourself out in the centre of it, leaving very little space for your friend in his own bed
he makes do, though, throwing himself over your stomach and pinning you to the bed
you groan as he knocks the wind out of you, but all does is chuckle
“actually, scratch that,” he says as he tries his hardest to got comfortable, “what are you doing in my apartment? you don’t have a key.”
he finds it hard to find a good spot to lay since there’s a literal body beneath him, so instead he sits up and tries his hardest to shove you to the side
you resist, but eventually roll over when his finger pokes a particularly ticklish spot in your side
he goes to get comfy, making sure to pull one of his pillows free from beneath your head and put it beneath his own
you punch his arm as payment; it doesn’t hurt him, he just laughs
“found your spare key under your doormat,” you say as if it’s as simple as that, “you need to find a better place to hide that, by the way.”
he repeats your words in a mocking tone, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated manner
“sure, but why are you in my bed?”
“it’s comfier than mine,” you shrug, laughing at the exasperated sigh he gives you, “besides, it’s not like you were using it while you were at work.”
“and maybe if you had a job you wouldn’t feel the need to come to my apartment and nap in my bed when you could be at work,” he teases
now it’s your turn to roll your eyes
you shove him slightly, in response to the poor taste joke, but he knows you’re not really mad
you never are when it comes to him…
something about the way he taunts you makes you light up inside
maybe it’s the way he giggles at you when you get annoyed, face lighting up in glee, or perhaps you just like it when he pays you attention
either way, you hope it never stops
“i’m trying to get a job,” you reply, seriousness lacing itself in your voice, “i had an interview this morning actually.”
he turns to look at you with surprise on his face
“you never told me,” he says with a minuscule pout, and you realise the shock on his face is more to do with the fact it was hidden from him than anything else
you look away, not wanting to force yourself into seeing the hurt that’s swimming in his eyes
all this over a job interview? weird, you think to yourself
“i wanted it to be a surprise if i got the job,” you mumble, “but i kind of fumbled so i don’t think i did.”
you’d never tell him, but it’s actually your disappointment at your own failure that led you to your best friend’s bed
the comfort it brought you to slide one of his hoodies over your head and surround yourself in the familiar scent of his bedding was better than the comfort you gained from anything else
the knowledge that jongho would be there soon to comfort you, unknowingly picking up the pieces of your shattered ego, was nice
his presence was your safe place, even when that presence was just the smell of him ingrained in his sheets
“you fumbled?” he clarifies, “how so?”
he opens his arms to invite you closer; it’s an opportunity you jump at, shuffling until you’re close enough for his arms to circle your body
“i kept answering their questions weirdly,” you say as you press your face into his chest, “but in my defence, their questions were dumb.”
he chuckles, and the sound rumbles through him
“you don’t need to defend yourself to me,” his voice sounds deeper when you hear it through his chest, “i know you’re trying your hardest.”
a hand comes into contact with the back of your head, gently patting at it as if he’s trying to soothe you
you almost tell him that you don’t need soothing, but the sensation is nice so you let him continue
“i am trying hard,” you sigh, “and i wish they could see that rather than just seeing all the stupid answers i give them! they probably think i have negative braincells…”
jongho can’t help but heartily laugh at that
he clutches onto you as the sound rings through the air, effectively pinning you to his body
you can’t help but be happy that he’s not one of those people that slap things when they laugh…
“i also think you have negative braincells,” he says through his giggles, “but that doesn’t stop me from thinking you’re a great person that’s worthy of employment.”
for what seems like the hundredth time, you hit his arm
“i got higher than you in school, dickwad!”
you only scored higher by a margin, but you still did better than him and therefore have eternal bragging - or in this case defending - rights
the playful arguing doesn’t go much further than that
in fact the two of you fall into a peaceful silence pretty quickly, the only sound that fills your brain is jongho’s heartbeat; strong and stable, just like he is
just likes he’s always been, actually, ever since the two of you were just kids playing in each other’s back yards
he tried to teach you football when you were both young, but ended up kicking the ball too hard and bruising your shin
even at the age of 7 he was so willing to comfort you in your time of need
you still see so much of that pudgy-faced boy in the man you know today
and then when he was a teenager you specifically remember him trying to teach you basketball
he had his arms wrapped around you as he positioned your hands correctly
when you shot your first basket without his help, he celebrated it like he’d just scored the winning basket for the team he played on
you still think about the way he picked you up and spun you around sometimes; it feels like such a special memory
you can’t help but smile as you let it play in your mind one more time
“what are you thinking about?” jongho asks
you shift your head so you can see his face, his big brown eyes meeting yours immediately
perhaps it’s the dimness of his bedside lamp, but you can’t help but appreciate how nice he looks right now
you’ve always known him to be attractive, but surely his lips haven’t always looked that soft, right?
“why do you want to know?” you respond quietly as you try and make sense of this new feeling that settles over you
well, perhaps it’s not new, but it’s certainly stronger
“i want to know everything about you,” he replies, no evidence of a joke on his face, “like what you’re thinking, or when you have a job interview.”
well, that’s targeted, you think to yourself
“i told you it was supposed to be a surprise if i passed!” you whine
he smiles slightly
“it would’ve been a great surprise,” he admits, “but i still can’t help but wish you’d told me! i would’ve gone with you for support.”
and he would’ve
one word from you and he’d have taken a day off work just to do anything in his power to help you
hell, you’re sure he would’ve gone into the interview with you if he could
you can’t help but giggle at the idea of him standing behind you like a bouncer, arms folded threateningly as the interviewers fumble through their dumb questions
“your support would’ve been greatly appreciated,” you say
he hums an agreement
“this is why you tell your jongho things, okay?” he teases
you pause
“my jongho?”
“who else’s would i be?”
you shrug
“i don’t know,” you admit, “i just thought such a title would go to a girlfriend or something…”
you feel your face heat up at your own words
perhaps it’s the connotations that come with it; a title that should’ve gone to his future girlfriend has gone to you instead
why is that thought making your heart beat so fast?
“i mean maybe one day it will,” he says, “but only if you say yes.”
your mind goes blank
what does he mean by that?
“because if you don’t then my plans will be kind of fucked, you know?” you don’t know. you don’t know anything at all, “like what’s going to happen if you say no and things get awkward? who will i take on my family’s spring vacation then?”
“huh?”
that’s all you can say
because his words make sense in your mind, but none of it makes sense in concept, except it also kind of does
but then the notion of it all is making butterflies erupt in your stomach, which also doesn’t make sense because why?
“do i have to spell it out for you, my little dummy?” he smiles, a familiar fondness in his eyes, “i’m asking you to be my girlfriend.”
and that’s when it all dawns on you
the reason you feel closer to him than anyone else
the reason you want him to be the first to know everything
the reason why you always try so hard to impress him
you’re in love with him, and you have been for quite a long time, it seems
perhaps it was the basketball incident that set this proverbial train in motion; you distinctly remember feeling butterflies then
although at the time you had put it down to just feeling nervous about impressing jongho, even that excuse points in the direction of love
holy fuck
“hello?” he waves a hand in front of your face, “anyone in there? or am i just going to have to assume it’s a no-”
“no!” you cut him off, eyes going wide, “i mean yes. no to saying no, yes to your question… the girlfriend question.”
a wide toothy grin forms on his face, one of the ones that shows his gums and makes his nose scrunch up in the cutest way
oh god, have you always been down this horrifically bad for him?
“god you’re cute,” he says with happiness evident in his voice
it’s funny; you were about to tell him the same thing
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oepionie · 1 year
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—"MY DUMBASS SOPPING WET CAT" leona kingscholar
🎸masterlist | 💬ao3 link
synopsis: "are you insane?! look at you! you're soaking wet!" "i don't care. i had to come see you." in the middle of a stormy night, you hear knocking at your door and find leona standing outside your dorm in the pouring rain. it seems that he has a question for you.
⊹ [ cw ] — passing mention of freezing◞
⊹ [ tags ] — FLUFF.GN! READER | soft leona agenda, mutual pining, kissin◞
⊹ [ w.c ] — 800+◞
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Thunder rattles the ground as a bright white flare lights up the dreary dark halls of Ramshackle. The rain pattered against the roof while you and Grim huddled in a blanket. Both of you were watching a soap opera on TV, waiting for the storm to pass.
Grim had long since dozed off to dreamland, snoring quietly, but you stayed up, far too engrossed in the family drama on TV.
As you grabbed the remote to play the next episode, the last thing you expected was to hear a knock on the door.
Now, cats were notorious for hating water, you were pretty sure of that. Those furry little balls of fluff loathed being hit by even a single drop of rain.
So, why in the Twisted Wonderland was Leona Kingscholar standing outside your dorm in the middle of a pouring storm?
Leona's hands were buried in the jacket he somehow had managed to grab in his haste. He kept his attention fixed to his feet as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Bout time you opened the door, herbivore."
"Are you insane?! Look at you! You're soaking wet!" Dumbfounded, you pulled Leona into your dorm and ran to fetch him a towel. The lion followed your retreating form with a paralyzed gaze, uncharacteristically silent.
Was running through the rain really worth it just to see you? He debated just making a run for it. The entire thing had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, anyway. However, before he could do anything, you returned and tossed a fluffy towel over his head. Leona took it into his hands, draping it over his shoulders.
"C'mon. You're making my doormat soggy." You grumbled, nose scrunching up as you pulled the lion into your dorm.
Leona slams the door shut behind him. He pulls you back by the collar of your shirt, dragging you to stagger back until your back was pressed up against the wall. He rests one hand beside your head and uses the other to lift your chin up towards him.
"What are we?" Leona mutters whilst staring at you, taking his merry time to take in every little feature on your face. His expression was contemplative, apprehension swimming in his eyes.
"I dont know-Rivals?" You snort, laying a head on his shoulder. Leona looks down at you with an annoyed expression. Chuckling, you peer up at him through your lashes. "What do you want us to be?"
He stays silent and stares at your lips, glancing back up at you for permission. You nod and he wraps a muscular arm around your waist. Your hands grip the fabric of his shirt, tugging on it slightly as you lean up to reach him. Leona cranes his neck and meets you halfway. He kisses you sensually, moving his hand down to rest around your neck and holding your hand with the other. You pull back and Leona chases after your lips. Giggling, you press the back of your hand against his mouth.
"Woah there, tiger. You're still cold and drenched. Let's go to the living room."
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"That really all you have? Crowley didn't have anythin' better to give you?" Plopping down on the couch, Leona scoffed as he watched you drag a bulky heater over. Sighing, you pat the rusty metal. "Deadbeat crow-dad, remember?"
While you fumbled with the old switches, he took a mental note to gift you a new one soon. Old-fashioned tech like that isn't reliable enough to keep you warm during the winter - you could end up freezing to death. It was a situation he wanted to avoid at all costs, especially now that you've wormed your way into his heart.
Finally, after some tinkering, the heater buzzed to life. You clapped your hands, the giddy grin on your face making Leona's lips curve into a small smile. Cute.
"Anyways. Look at you. How much of a dumbass do you have to be to run through a storm like that?" You huffed, hands on your hips as you looked down at him.
The creaky worn down couch was already starting to darken and soak up the rainwater on his clothes. Leona fumbled with his hands, gaze moving to his feet.
"I don't care. I just-" He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "I had to come see you." 
"Why's that?" You questioned, raising an eyebrow at him. Leona blinked. Even he wasn't sure. 
He hadn't expected to feel as strongly about you as he did. These were the kinds of things he thought a person like him was too rough around the edges for. It drove him wild and caused him to daydream about mushy lovey-dovey things he'd never considered before. Despite that, he wasn't ready to fully admit it yet, and somehow, he thinks you knew.
"You always have to ask dumb questions. I just fucking wanted to." Leona scoffed, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face into your stomach. His eyes fluttered shut as you stroked your deft fingers over his damp hair, undoing the knots and tangles with care. Snorting at the lion, you poked his cheek and jeered at him.
"Dumbass."
"Your dumbass, at least."
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muzansslxt · 29 days
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✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
tojixreader
Summary: Toji doesn’t care abt your feelings but he’s not dealing with a brat >:(
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
This was getting annoying, you angrily turned your phone face down on the bed and huffed. How could he keep doing this? Walking in and out of your life as he pleases, not a care in the world for how your feeling.
Toji wasn’t the kind of man who wanted to be tied down to just one woman, no he wanted to be free to fuck whoever he’d like.
Your eyes began to water just at the thought of him pressing another woman into his mattress.
The two of you had began a bad habit of breaking up and getting back together, this was now the third time he had randomly began messaging you only to leave you on delivered for hours or days on end.
“I don’t get what you’re crying about, I’m a busy man.” He’d say any time you brought it up to him.
Men fucking suck. You thought to yourself while wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands.
You had tried so bad to forget him, to just move on, but he always seemed to slip his way back into your heart, and your pussy.
A rough knock on your apartment door jarred you from your thoughts, heart beating wildly as you approached the door.
You knew that knock from anywhere.
“What.” You snapped as you opened the door, sure enough Tojis hulking figure filled the doorway as he looked down at you with an eyebrow cocked.
“Well hello to you too. Brat.” He grumbled, easily shoving his way past you to get inside.
Shutting the door you turned and folded your arms “I’d like to know where you get off ignoring my messages and calls, then waltz in MY apartment like you own it.”
Toji had already began rooting around your fridge and turned his head slightly to look at you, eyes amused. “I get off knowing I own you y/n. No matter how long I don’t see you, or talk to you, I know you want me to come back.”
You felt your cheeks begin to burn, “Fuck you Toji, and get out of my fridge. Unlike you I work for what I want.”
He sighed heavily and straightened himself before snagging a take out container for himself, “Y’know I’ve been pretty patient with your whole attitude problem lately but you’re gettin on my last fucken nerve.” He murmured while digging into the cold food.
You scoffed, this fucking guy.
You easily slapped the container of food out of Tojis hands, its contents spilling onto the floor and glared up at him intensely “You treat me like a fucking doormat. And you think you can get away with it?” You spat, anger slowly filling your senses.
Toji stood calmly for a moment, almost measuring you up like he’d strike you but cracked the smallest, arrogant smirk you’d ever seen.
“Let’s fix this hm?” He said while walking towards you, to which you proceeded to back away.
“No, get out Toji.” You say while retreating from him further into the apartment until he had you in the doorway of your bedroom.
Even to your own ears, it sounded fake. You didn’t really want him to leave and he damn well knew it.
Tilting your chin up he leaned down, dark eyes staring into yours with burning intensity before kissing you sweetly.
You leaned into the kiss hungrily, your body constantly ached for his touch and responded just as well.
Pulling back Toji hummed, he slowly swiped his thumb over your bottom lip and watched with a pleased expression as you gently sucked on it, looking up at him with those needy eyes.
“Still want me to get out?” He purred before pushing you back onto the bed, and moving on top of you.
You shook your head breathlessly, your panties were already soaked and your cunt throbbed painfully with its desire to be filled.
“That’s what I thought.” He murmured smugly before taking no time at all to undress you as well as himself, it seemed like he was in just as much need of you as you were him.
His cock was thick and hard with lust, already drooling pre cum from his twitching tip.
“Toji.” You whined softly while reaching up for him, fingers gently running through his dark hair and slowly arching your body up into his.
He huffed a small laugh and easily flipped you onto your belly “What? You think I’d forget your bitch fit and fuck you nice and sweet? Brats don’t get what they want sweetheart.” He said smoothly before propping your ass up.
You whined again and let your head fall into your pillow, already knowing this hulk of a man was going to enjoy punishing you.
“M’sorry.” You say softly while squeezing your eyes shut knowing your apology would fall on deaf ears.
Toji eyed up the round globes of your ass and shamelessly spread you so he could see exactly what he wanted. Your drooling pussy, ready to welcome his cock in a warm hug.
“Tell me how sorry you are.” He cooed while leaning over you, his arms firmly caged your hips in so you simply had no where to go. You couldn’t escape the full length of him, like you usually did.
Your body tensed, sensing what he was about to do and cried out as he pushed himself deep into your pussy, groaning as your walls hugged him tightly, the warm gushy feeling of your pussy made his balls clench. No pussy could compare to yours.
“H-ho..Toji.” You moaned out, squirming your hips desperately as he began to thrust into you at a fast and unforgiving pace.
Gasping out and babbling nonsense not even you could decipher, Tojis cock plunged deeper inside you than you’d ever felt, that thick prominent vein on the underside of his dick rubbed deliciously against your walls.
“Cmon baby, use your big girl words hm? I know you can do it.” He murmured lowly, rutting himself into you even faster, his balls slapping your clit adding to the head spinning euphoria coursing through your body.
“Hnngh..ha-ha..fuck.” You choke out before Toji roughly gripped your hair, scalp going hot with his sudden force and pulled your head back.
“Don’t make me repeat myself y/n.”
“I-I’m sorr- h-hooh, sorry hah I’m sorry” You whimpered while tears streaked your cheeks “M’so..so sorry baby.”
Toji let his painful grip on your hair go and grunted in satisfaction before giving your ass a slap for good measure.
“You gunna stop bein a brat from now on?” He asked lowly while his hips began to stutter. Giving away how close to his release he was.
You nodded fast while whimpering in pleasure as he began to stroke along that sweet little spot inside of you, he slapped your ass again and grunted as you squeezed around him, sucking his dick deeper into your greedy pussy.
“Words doll, use em.” He huffed while gripping your ass tightly.
“Yes, oh god, mmh..I’ll stop baby..h-hoo fuck.” You moaned out, curling your toes as the knot in your belly began to unwind itself.
“Gunna cum for me?” He growled low in your ear, his breath coming out in puffs. God if he didn’t know any better he’d think his dick was melting.
“M-mhm, oh Toji” You gasp out, cunt squeezing Tojis dick which in return twitched inside of you and was quick to release its load inside.
“Fuck.” He hissed, giving a few more sharp thrusts to fuck the both of you through the orgasm.
As you lay there panting softly, your body full of tingles, a smile graced your face as you turned to look at Toji, who was already up getting dressed.
“Where are you going?” You asked, unable to keep the disappointment out of your voice.
Toji chuckled and leaned down to ruffle your hair before placing a kiss on the crown of your head.
“I’ll be back doll face, keep that attitude in check while I’m gone.” He purred, you felt your heart begin to drop.
When would you ever learn?
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
A/N: hi guys!! My writings a little bit rusty but this was definitely not me self projecting xxx
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cameronspecial · 2 months
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hi! are you taking requests rn?
if so, i would love to read about rafe x reader with ocd like cleaning, checking windows & doors. how would he handle it? like pls soft!rafe calming her down when she’s having a meltdown after the hopper etc step inside with dirty shoes
ty<3
Dirty Floors And Wrinkly Hands
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x OCD!Reader
Warnings: Swearing
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.8K
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It’s a constant voice in her head. Telling her that it needs to be clean. That any possible germ could enter a family member’s or her body and get them sick. She spends so much of her day obsessing over everything being clean and then the other half just making sure she did something right. She knows the way she obsesses over things is unhealthy, but she does it to keep herself safe. To keep her loved ones safe. The compulsions are just as bad because they make her feel like she is in a constant state of déjà vu. She gets home and locks the door. As she steps away from it, she doubts that she did it properly. She locks the door again. But what if by relocking it, she did it incorrectly? She has to try again. After all, the third time’s the charm. She relocks it one more time before stepping off of the doormat. Shit. She forgot to take her shoes off before she did it. Now, the floors are dirty. The germs from her shoes are slowly infecting the whole front entry room. She takes her shoes off and heads to the laundry room. She thinks about taking the mop out, except if she uses a sponge, she can really put elbow grease into getting the floor clean. 
That’s how Rafe finds her when he gets home an hour later. She is on her knees, hunching over the tile floor. Her fingers are shrivelled up and ache from the pressure she is putting into digging the sponge into the floor. Rafe locks the door as hard as he can to reassure Y/N that he did it. He wipes his shoes on the front mat and then takes them off. Before he greets his girlfriend, he washes his hand like a surgeon. Even if she can’t see how he washes his hands, he will know he didn’t do it correctly. 
He pads back to the front room and carefully walks over the drying floor. He squats down to be closer to Y/N, cringing at the sight of her hands. He slowly reaches out to place his hands on hers. Her movement stops as she flicks her eyes over to him. “I stepped on the floor with my shoes,” she cries, trying to get back to cleaning. The corner of his lip curves a little, “And it’s okay that you did, Sweetheart. Remember what Dr. Palmer said. You only need to clean things once. The germs can’t hurt you if you do that.” “Yes, but I cleaned it and then I accidentally touched it before I washed my hands. So it made it dirty again,” she explains, wiggling her hurting fingers. Rafe shakes his head, “I understand, Sweetheart. I just saw you clean it now, so it means it is clean. Right?” She nods her head. “Then how about we go wash our hands now? It would mean your hands and the floors are clean.” He stands to his full height and offers his hand. She takes it so that she can stand as well. He leads her into the bathroom and steps back while she washes her hands. When he sees she goes to wash it again, he gently pulls her away from the sink under the guise of needing to wash his own hands. 
———
The next day, Y/N is watching TV in her living room when a knock comes at the door. Rafe calls out that he is going to get it and he lets Topper in. The boys are stuck in a conversation, so Topper forgets to take his shoes off before stepping off of the floor mat. The boys don’t notice it, yet Y/N does. They turn at the sound of her running to the laundry room. Topper looks down and notices his shoes are still on. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, Man,” he apologizes as he takes his shoes off immediately. Rafe claps his hand on the other boy’s shoulder, “It’s okay. Do you mind just going into the other room while I help her out?” Topper’s head moves from side to side as he makes his way into the living room after putting his shoes away. 
She comes running back into the room with a bucket of soapy water and a sponge. Rafe’s hands drop on her shoulders. “Hey, why don’t you let me clean it? You know I know how you like to get it clean and you can watch to make sure I do it right,” he offers, taking the clean tools into her hand. She quietly agrees and steps back. Her eyes observe as he follows every single step she has talked about when it comes to cleaning. He goes over every square of tile twice and puts as much pressure onto the sponge as he can. Once he is done, the nagging voice in her head has died down. He looks at her for approval and she gives him a tiny nod. He gets up, putting everything away for her. He washes his hands under her surveillance before giving her a kiss. They make their way hand and hand to the living room so they can watch TV. Y/N can’t help but thank the universe for giving her a boyfriend, who is so understanding and doesn’t mock her for her OCD.
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @victory-in-the-llama @wickedlovely121 @starkowswife @drewsmusee @maybankslover
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crash-and-live · 3 months
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So I haven't written anything in a long time, let alone published anything, but I thought I'd give things a try with @bunnyreaper's Secret Santa writing fest. My recipient is @ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff. Hope you enjoy <3
Pairing: John Price x GN!Reader (male pronouns used) with slight John Price x Reader x Simon Riley but a lot is left up to insintuation.
Summary: You're a civilian with a curious neighbour whom you rarely see, yet manage to get roped into taking care of his place when he's gone. You've known him for a while and your relationship slowly develops as the festive season approaches.
Domestic fluff mostly, playful banter and all but essentially a nice lil feel-good fic. Enjoy!
Word Count: 2.8k
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The night air was warm as you walked to the door of your flat, reaching into your pockets for the familiar feel of your keys. Pulling them out, you click open the lock before glancing over at your neighbour’s door. You hadn’t seen him much over the years, even less so recently. There were about two times you could recall hearing him move around the small flat in the past couple of months, before he vanished again soon after. He’d always been nice to you, in a gruff sort of way. Asked you to mind his plants on his balcony next to yours which wasn’t too hard. It clearly meant something to him as he always left a thank you note under your doormat with a small token of gratitude. 
He had said he travelled for work, and he wasn’t kidding. Every small item he’d left on your doorstep had been from a different country. Either a small trinket or stamp from places all around the world. You almost wished you could leave him something, but whenever you heard him next door and made plans to visit the next day, he was gone again. It tugged at your heart slightly, the amount this man, John, he’d introduced himself as that first time you’d met him, spent at work. It seemed to consume his life. He’d never had a visitor. Never gotten a parcel or a letter. Not once. No friend or relative ever knocked at your door asking for a ‘John’. It made you wonder… just who exactly was your neighbour? 
Shaking your head, you pushed your way inside and closed the door behind you, locking it before dumping your bags onto the small table before sprawling onto the couch, groaning in relief. Today had been hard. Not only had work been tough, but approaching the busy period brought a whole new level of stress. You could already feel your eyes fluttering shut before you heard a crash coming from next door, followed by a gruff noise. You couldn’t fight the grin that spread over your cheeks as the tiredness left your body. He was home. 
“Sorry that I disturbed you.” His voice was husky, like you’d remembered as your eyes traced his face. His skin was weathered and his beard quite bushy, as if he’d been unable to access a mirror for a while. You’d gone over just to be friendly, to welcome him home because he must be lonely, to check on him and be nice. Or at least that’s what you tried to convince yourself. 
“You didn’t, truly. I’m almost glad I heard you. It’s been a while.” A soft smile spread over your lips as you took in his rugged appearance. Whatever he’d been gone for, you could tell it had taken a toll on him. Lines were heavy on his face and his shoulders were slumped. His eyes weren’t focused like they usually were, instead choosing to check every corner of the flat as if he were expecting something to jump out of the shadows. Your brows furrowed in concern. “Are you alright?” 
“Don’t concern yourself with me, kid. I’ll be fine.” He shuts down the conversation because it could even begin. Pursing your lips, you nodded in acknowledgement. It was the one thing you’d noted about him. He was fine talking to you, asking about you and your life, but immediately shut the conversation down when it came to him. “Just been a rough few months.” 
Kid. He always called you that. A constant reminder of how he saw you. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed, but practically, you also knew it would never work. So, you sucked it up, soaked in every chance of communication you could with this man. “Anything I can do to help?” You tried to keep your voice neutral, but there was a hopeful lilt to it. John simply chuckled, shaking his head as he did so. 
“No, kid. You’re fine. You do enough for me.” 
“I water your plants, John.” You mused, fingers clutching at the glass he’d slid across the bench to you. “I think I can be a little more of service if you need, even if it’s just company.” 
John smiled, kindlier this time. “You calling me lonely, kid?” 
“Am I wrong?” The corners of your mouth quirked up into a smile in response to his own. 
“I have friends. All of them are like me though. A little off the grid, rough around the edges. Work consumes my life. I don’t have a lot of time for anything else.” His response was measured, as if warning you not to press any further. As if he’d already said enough. You sucked your teeth and gave a half-hearted shrug, letting the matter drop. 
The next time you saw him was a few weeks later. You were bringing groceries in the late afternoon as he was leaving, heavy bag slung over his broad shoulders. He smiled softly when he saw you and you couldn’t help but flash a wide smile to him. 
“I didn’t know you were home.” You said, placing your bags on the front of your door. 
“Had no chance to tell you, kid. Got in late last night and already been called out again.” He shrugged, as if it didn’t really bother him. He would be used to it, you guessed. Didn’t mean that it didn’t take its toll. 
“Ever heard of taking a break?” You gave him a cheeky smile, cocking an eyebrow as he let out a breathy chuckle. 
“Not in my line of work. Always something that needs to be done.”
“Do you need me to do anything for you?” You asked again, hoping he’d take you up on the offer. This time, John remained silent for a beat before nodding. 
“Actually, yeah. Was meant to be home for a bit longer so I bought a bit of food. Take what you want and chuck the rest from the fridge. Don’t think much of it will keep.” He held out his key towards you. Your heart skipped a beat as you glanced between his eyes and the key in his outstretched hand. You nodded in response, reaching out and taking the key from his hand, feeling the roughness of his palm. 
“Thanks.” His voice pitched down slightly, the gruffness sending a shiver down your spine. John gives you a slight nod before glancing at his watch. “Gotta run. I’ll knock on your door for the keys when I get back, yeah? Or if it’s easier, chuck ‘em on my balcony. I’ll get in either way.” And then he was gone before you could even say goodbye. 
You stood there, looking down the corridor where he’d turned the corner before glancing down at the keys in the palm of your hand. It was plain, with two keys and a leather strap with no markings. But it was him. Closing your fingers over the cool metal, you turned to your groceries, picking them up and taking them inside, set on composing yourself for a few moments before you ventured into his flat. 
You’d been in his flat a few times before, but never been past the open plan of the main area. This time, you resisted the temptation to snoop through his belongings, despite the nagging curiosity. He was clearly a private man, who didn’t like to share his personal business. What kind of betrayal of trust would it be for him to hand you his keys, only for you to be nosey and intrude? You didn’t want to think about that. Instead, you dutifully went to his fridge and cupboard, and emptied them as he requested. 
That became a part of your regular routine. He left you his keys when he went away, told you to help yourself to whatever remained of his food. At first, you harboured some sense of guilt over it, taking his food. But as time went on, you convinced yourself he’d been buying more food especially for you, even going as far as to buy a few packets of your favourite treats that always went untouched by him, saved for you. Your cheeks burned at the thought of him thinking about you. So you repaid the favour in kind, making a few extra meals and placing them in his freezer, so he’d have something to eat when he came home.
Amid your usual dinner preparations at the end of the working week, a sharp knock rang through your flat, impatient, and demanding. John never usually knocked like that, you thought, furrowing your brows as you made your way to the door. Maybe he’d had a rough time at work and was more tense than usual. Upon opening the door however, your eyes widened as you noticed a giant of a man, a black balaclava with white markings on his face. The only part of him you could see was his eyes, dark and steely as he held out his hand. 
“Keys.” His deep voice was cold as he stared down at you imposingly. 
“I’m sorry?” You wished your voice was a little firmer but given the sheer size and presence of this man, you could forgive yourself. 
“Keys.” He said again, more impatiently. “For the guy next door. Sent me to grab them for him.” Brows pinching together, you shook your head. 
“I’m sorry, I don’t—”
“Don’t be dense.” He snarled, stepping closer to you, eyes narrowing as he pushed himself over your threshold. Breath hitching, you stepped back, trying to close your door on the stranger, but he barred it with his arm. “Need the keys for John’s flat. Now.”
“Simon!” A familiar voice snapped from down the hall. “Don’t be hostile. He’s not a threat.” John appeared around the corner, hugging his side as he groaned, leaning against the cool stone. His face was pale and bruised, causing your eyes to widen further. 
“John!” Not caring about the stranger in your doorstep, you pushed past him, rushing towards your neighbour. “Are you okay? What happened?” Your voice was panicked as you rushed over to him, hands fluttering around his battered body. Letting out a weary sigh, John pushed off the wall. 
“‘M fine, kid. Just been a rough few days.” He placed a large hand on your shoulder reassuringly, squeezing it tenderly before nodding over to the man by your door. “Don’t worry about him. He hasn’t got manners like me.” 
You flushed slightly, looking back at the other man, Simon, as John had called him. Tracing your eyes over his face, you could see him squint and cock an eyebrow, as though waiting for you to comment. But you don’t. Instead, you reach into your pocket and grab out the keys to John’s flat, throwing them to Simon. 
“The deadbolt is the gold one, door handle is the silver.” Simon nodded and turned to John’s door as you looked back around to face your neighbour. “Are you sure you’re okay? I can bring you anything. First aid? Towels?” But John shook his head. 
“No, kid. I’ll be alright. Got Simon.” He said weakly, pushing off the wall as Simon stomped over, hooking John’s arm over his shoulder before he rushed inside, kicking the door shut with his heavy boots, causing it to slam in your face. 
The next morning, you were out on your balcony with a coffee when John pushed open his door for his morning cigar. He stopped when he saw you out there, before glancing inside hesitantly. 
“Your friend doesn’t seem to like me.” You mused, guessing that was the cause of John’s wariness. Your sly remark was rewarded with a hearty chuckle, cut short by a wince as he clutched his side. Your brows pinched together at the reaction and he noticed the concern laced in your features. 
“I’m fine, love. I’ve had much worse than a few cracked ribs. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” Heat coursed through your body at the term of endearment. He’d never said that to you before. Suppressing a grin, you met his warm eyes, crinkling slightly with a reassuring smile as the cigar smoke surrounded him. “And don’t fret too much about Simon. He’s a just grumpy lad.”
“He could do with taking a few etiquette lessons.” You grumbled, but the corners of your mouth twitched upwards and was met with yet another hearty chuckle from John, the sounds making your heart race.
“You’re a good lad too. Thanks for taking care of the place. I appreciate it.” The mood softened between the two of you as the cold morning wind picked up. You shivered. “Tell me, why’s your heating unit not been on? Weather’s been right chilly.” Inwardly, you cursed that he’d noticed, but of course he would. He’s been far more observant than any person you’d come across. Shrugging, you replied.
“Broke a few days ago. Haven’t been able to get anyone in to fix it, being so close to Christmas and all. Everyone’s either finishing up for the year, or already fully booked.” John clicked his tongue, shaking his head.
“Can’t be having that now love, can we?  I’ll give it a look later but, in the meantime, come over to mine. Want to make sure you’re warm in this weather.” Blinking, you raised your head to begin to protest, but he’d already stubbed out his cigar and turned to his door. “Come on, love. It’s almost Christmas after all, no one should be alone and cold. Let us warm you up.” Was all he said before stepping inside and closing the door behind him, leaving you to ruminate.
Exactly ten minutes later, you were outside John’s door, stomach twisting as you thought about his earlier words. Us. Meaning he wasn’t alone. Meaning Simon was still here. Running your thumb along your knuckles, you debated heading back into yours when John’s door was pulled open. Except it wasn’t John standing there, but Simon. His large, hulking frame taking up most of the space in the doorway, and making you tilt your head up slightly to look into his eyes, the only part of his face visible under the mask.
“You gonna stand there gawkin’ at the door all day?” His words were gruff, but the sentence might have ended with a huff, as if he were making fun of you. Your stomach twisted even more at the rough timbre of his voice. Biting your lip, you decided to throw a bit of cheek to him.
“You gonna slam the door in my face again?” Your ears didn’t deceive you this time as Simon let out another huff, this time leaning against the door frame as his arms folded and head tilted, eyes carefully focused on yours.
“There were more important things to do than chit-chat.” Right. That was a fair point on his part. The two of you entered a silent stand-off, which mostly consisted of you looking anywhere but him as his hard eyes drilled into you.
“You letting the lad in or what, Simon?” John called out and Simon chuckled, eyes crinkling as he stepped aside, head cocking to gesture you in. As soon as your foot entered the flat, you moaned in relief, the warm air circling around you, unsticking your cold joints. Your face instantly heated as you realised the noise you’d let out in the presence of the two men and you ducked your head.
“That good huh?” Simon said lowly, brow raising slightly as he brushed past you, chest against your shoulder as he headed into the kitchen. John had an arm looped over the back of the couch, smiling, waving you over to join him on the couch. Once you sat down, John placed his strong arm around your shoulders.
“Better, yeah?” He asked, raising his brow enticingly. “Can’t be having my sweet neighbour cold when he’s taken such good care of me.”  You face hadn’t quite calmed down from your slip up before, but John’s words brought it all rushing back.
“You didn’t have to.” Your voice was a mumble, eyes glancing over at the telly as it played some holiday movie.
“I did though, love. I really did.” He squeezed your shoulder firmly and you felt your knees weaken at his strength. “Noticed you didn’t do much last year over Christmas and couldn’t have a repeat of that. Not when you’ve been taking such good care of me.” Finally, you picked up the courage to meet his eyes and you saw the intensity there. “Let me take care of you for once, yeah? Let us take care of you.”
Glancing up, you noticed Simon lurking in the doorway to the kitchen, eyes carefully watching the pair of you. Swallowing, you glanced back at your neighbour, his eyes boring into your expectantly. And you only had one answer for him.
“Yes. I want you to take care of me… sir.” John grinned, eyes creasing as his head threaded through your hair to cup the back of your head.
“There’s a good lad for me. Gonna take real good care of ya.”
If there are mistakes, please let me known. As I said, it's been a hot minute.
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neonghostlights · 6 months
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hi ml, wondering if you’d write a drabble about eddie finding out reader has left, kind of like a part 2 to “this will never happen again”
totally up to you if you’d like to do that! no pressure or anything, i just really enjoyed reading it and i’d enjoy reading a second part<3
have a great day x
Hiii! So, I wasn't going to make a part two to this even though I've known how it ends since I wrote the first part. But...here it is. Thank you so much for the ask and I hope you enjoy this as much as the first part!
Part One
Warnings: Drunk/high Eddie, Crying, Angst, Heartbreak, Hurt/No comfort. Not a happy ending.
Wordcount: 1k
This Will Never Happen Again Part Two
Eddie knew this was wrong. 
But there wasn’t much fight left in him with the way this hallway was spinning. 
Him and her were fighting. Over you. Again. 
She had to know this was where he would end up after she screamed at him to get out. 
He was fucked up, utterly destroyed by whatever he got his hands on at The Hideout. It was the only way he could work up the bravery to face you every time his life crashed down on him like this. 
He didn’t mean to get this far with her. As much as you and everyone else probably wouldn’t believe him if he tried to explain the way he fell into a serious relationship accidentally. 
He just wanted to forget about you. You had been his friend forever and he knew he would never be good enough for you. Somehow instead of working up the courage to make a move on you he had made a move on her. 
And here he was. Miserable. 
She didn’t deserve to be with a man that loved his best friend. She deserved much better than him. He just couldn’t find it in him to end it with her. It would destroy her even though they fight like hell. 
He turned around and went back to where he started. He had tried to count the doors in this hallway three times already. He knew the fifth one was yours but he kept miscounting. 
Eventually, he reached the fifth door. Usually there was a cute doormat out to help him know he was at the right place but you must have taken it up for some reason. Maybe it got dirty and you were just washing it. 
He pounded on the door, leaning his head up against it to help himself stand. He closed his eyes, trying to combat the wave of dizziness. He felt his cheeks started to grow wet. Reaching a single hand up he wiped away the tears dripping down his face sloppily. 
He really needed to sit down. 
He counted to three and started pounding again before pressing his ear against the door. Usually he would hear the shuffling of your feet as you walked to the door to greet him. 
He thought back to the days where you would be happy to see him. He can’t remember the last time you smiled when you saw his face. 
He raised his fist, beating on the door so much that he felt it vibrate. 
A door opened from behind him and he turned, thinking that maybe he was knocking on the wrong door afterall. 
But it was one of your neighbors in a bathrobe, looking very angry at him. 
“Give it a rest. No one lives there,” she snapped, placing her hands on her hips. 
Eddie shook his head, feeling his hair whip back and forth. 
“N-No. My friend lives here,” he said, pointing at the door. “This is the fifth door right?” 
The neighbor raised a brow at him. “Well, your friend doesn’t live there any more. She moved out earlier this week. Now knock it off before I call the police.” 
Eddie scoffed as she slammed the door. She was wrong. You wouldn’t leave. 
He pounded on the door some more and started screaming your name loudly. Maybe you had just taken a nap or run to the store for something. 
And after a while of waiting, he realized that you weren’t coming to the door. 
Eddie backed up some, stumbling into the wall behind him before he put all of his might into running forward and kicking your door. 
He kept kicking and screaming until the cops finally showed up. 
—-
It had been six months since you left Hawkins and you found yourself fitting into your new life well. You liked your job and had even gotten close enough with some of your coworkers to start hanging out with each other after work too. 
You liked your new apartment better than your last too. There wasn’t a draft or any leaky faucets which was a win in your book. 
The only thing that sucked was the fact that Eddie wasn’t here to see it or to share in your wins too. You found yourself missing him a lot, wanting to call him when something good or bad happened. 
But you needed to stay strong. This was what was best for the both of you. 
Some nights you stayed up listening for him, wondering if he would ever find you and apologize for everything. In your daydreams, he would pull you into his arms as soon as you opened the door. He would be sober and in the right state of mind to confess his love for you. 
But that hadn’t happened. 
Yet. 
You had to run to the post office in town to finally collect your mail from the PO box you had held onto for some reason. You hadn’t been there to pick up any mail since you moved, but you figured it was time to cut your last tie to that town. 
You collapsed on the couch, kicking your feet up on the coffee table before you as you flipped through your mail absentmindedly. Old junk greeted you which you tossed into a pile on the couch cushion beside you to deal with later. . 
A nicer envelope had you pausing before you tossed it to your side. 
Your name was written on the front in familiar, scratchy handwriting that you knew belonged to Wayne Munson. 
Dread filled your stomach as you tore open the back of the envelope and held the card in front of your face. 
You re-read the words a hundred times before jumping up and running to the bedroom. You didn’t even make it to the bed before your knees hit the floor. You choked out a sob into your hands as you rocked yourself back and forth, letting your heart break as you replayed the words written on that card in your mind. 
Wayne had sent that to you on purpose. Either as a beg or a reminder of what was waiting for you back in Hawkins. He was smart. 
But even an invitation to Eddie’s wedding wouldn't be enough to make you come back. No matter how much it hurt.
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jake-g-lockley · 1 year
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The Anonymous Annotator (Steven Grant x reader)
Masterlist | Spotify Playlist | Want to be tagged?
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Prompt: ARGUING!! then a heated "kiss me." and suddenly their hands are all over each other
Warning: MDNI, dom!Steven, sub!reader, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected p in v, fingering, dry humping, cockwarming (if you squint), nipple play 
A/N: Ok so I was watching MK again, as one does and I realized I want more of the Steven who talked back to Marc before he and Layla went to explore the tomb, so here is Steven being a little shit, cuz that's hot. Forget everything you know about sweetie Steven, k bye. 
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You sat in your dorm listening to music when you heard a knock on your door. You jumped up and opened the door, only to find a mysterious package on your doormat. It was wrapped in brown paper and had your name scrawled on it with messy handwriting. You rushed to your bed and pulled the string, tearing open the paper, revealing one of your spicier books that you hid under your bed, making your eyes widen. 
You frantically threw yourself off the bed to check under the bed and to your absolute horror, the book wasn't there. You spread your legs in front of you and pulled the book from the top of your bed and flipped to the front page, where the same handwriting blossomed. 
“To the one who’s eyes make the stars feel shy.” 
You flipped through the pages and found every bit of white space was covered in intricately detailed annotations. Your face heated up and you spent the next few hours reading how the mysterious annotator would alter the events of the books to make it more suitable for you. You gulped at the small smiley faces that would mark the end of the most crude sentences that you had ever laid your eyes on. 
“Where would you like my hands, sweet angel? Around your wrists, while I watch your tits bounce around while I thrust myself into you? Around your thighs, when I pin you down as you squirm against my face when my tongue carves my name out in your wetness? Around your neck, to see whether you’d be able to resist the urge to cum around my cock without me even moving a single muscle? :)”
It was seductive, and you were absolutely tantalised by the idea that you had a secret admirer. Suddenly, you can’t think about anything else but sex. 
“I wonder if I could fold you over like this, cover you with my spend after I’ve fucked you like a pathetic toy, leaning all of my body weight against you to whisper more things that could cause your pussy to clench around nothing.”
Every word, every phrase that was etched into the pages of the book in pencil burned coarsely against your skin and mind. 
“I think the protagonist could totally do better here. I’d love to hear your pretty noises as I devour you whole, to watch you come apart from my touch would be a blessing like no other.” 
You feel a warm pulsing somewhere below as you try taking deep breaths, trying to control the urges that rushed through your body. You rub your thighs together and you are suddenly hyper aware of your body’s changes, your skin feeling prickly, your breasts feeling uncomfortably trapped under your bra.
“Hah, rearranging her guts? I’d rearrange your brain chemistry just with my fingers in your sweet tight cunt.”
The warm tingling pulsation of your clit and increasing wetness and builds up from there, to the point of frustration where you have trouble thinking about anything other than your complete desire to be filled by the person who had taken the time to write all of their unrefined and vulgar thoughts on paper. 
“I’d let you sit and warm my cock for hours with you reading this over and over, till your eyes get tired and your cunt puls-”
Suddenly, your phone rang and you snapped out of whatever trance you were in, realising that it was your alarm for your class. You shook your head and slammed the book shut, throwing it into your bag, leaping up to leave your dorm.  
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You chewed your inner cheek as you tried to listen to the lecturer, nervously tapping the table to calm your mind. 
“Quit the tapping, dumbass, I can’t focus.” hissed the person beside you.
You rolled your eyes and turned to glare at Steven Grant, third year Egyptology student and your No.1 academic rival. Pity the fact that he was such a pretty boy because he was sometimes just a sarcastic cunt. You couldn’t help but let your eyes linger a little longer at the silhouette of his side profile, your sight grazing down the beautiful curve of his nose and settling on the plump of his lips.
Steven knew you were staring but didn’t say a word. His eyes were trained on the lecturer before him and he was quite positive that the lecturer was going to call you out any second now.
“Is there something more interesting about Mr. Grant’s face?” you heard the lecturer call out to you and you tore your gaze away from Steven and looked horrifyingly at her.
Steven bit his bottom lip and tried not to smirk as you slowly stood up from your seat. 
“Uh, no Ms. he, umm,” you tried to speak but your mind was jumbling at the thought of being caught and called out all in one second.
“Sit down! And eyes on the board, young lady, I want your focus here as your grades have been steadily declining.” the lecturer said before turning back to the board.
Your face was flushed and your hands were shaking. You could literally feel the smugness radiating off Steven and you gritted your teeth and stared forward, determined to keep your eyes on the board. For the past few weeks, you had been plagued with the mysterious book annotator and your focus had been slipping. You found yourself searching far and wide for the person’s likeness but you never seemed to catch the person anywhere near you. 
Finally the class was dismissed and you quickly gathered all your things and practically sprinted for the exit when you heard your lecturer call your name. You turned to see Steven speaking to your lecturer and sweat beaded at your palms, knowing you were in deep shit today.
“Mr. Grant here has agreed to tutor you, with the promise that you would make proper grades this semester.” your lecturer said and you glared at Steven who had a sweet, innocent smile on his face. 
“Your tutoring sessions are whenever Mr. Grant is free and you are to focus, alright?” you hated the way the lecturer was speaking to you but you purse your lips and nodded. 
“My place, 8 pm today.” Steven whispered and you grimaced but nodded.
Steven eyed the book that poked out of your bag as you quickly walked away and smirked to himself. 
“If she doesn’t have the brains to figure it out herself…”
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“No look, that happened before this, you’re getting the timelines mixed up!”
“I’m getting the timelines mixed up? What about you? Did you write this goddamn book, Steven?” 
You knew how this was going to go down, you and Steven arguing away about the stupidest misunderstanding. Your pride made it hard to back down as Steven tried teaching you, and you could tell that he was genuinely trying from the way he pulled out his own flashcards to help you. You couldn’t admit defeat, not to Steven Grant. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, pushing your knuckles into your eyes and counting from one to ten before looking up at Steven again. 
“Come on, it's not that hard.” Steven tried justifying as he flipped through the cards again.
“It’s fucking difficult Steven, stop sounding so fucking smart.” you groan.
“You’re not that fucking stupid either, I just need you to focus.” Steven chastised you, slightly more gently this time.
“I’d probably focus better if you didn’t make such a hot fucking teacher.” you hissed under your breath as you flipped the page angrily.
“What?” Steven whispered.
“You heard me.” you snapped, glaring at him. “You know, you’d probably teach me better if you stopped giving me those big ‘fuck me’ eyes either. Like what? You want me to kiss you or something?” 
You were definitely losing your shit as Steven inhaled a sharp breath of air. Suddenly, everything happened so quickly that you didn’t have the time to register the book being ripped out of your hands and soft plump lips settling against your own. It was a soft kiss at first, testing, unsure, but when you began to move your lips against his, it became more passionate as he pulled you onto his lap without a second thought. 
It took you long enough to push past your primal urges to realise that you were kissing Steven Grant. You snapped out of it and pushed him away, only to see his flushed face, swollen lips and half lidded eyes. It switched on something in you and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close once again as your lips began another dance with his. His hands were on your hips as he pushed your clothed core against him, groaning into your mouth. 
“Fuck, Steven, what’s happening?” you whisper against his forehead as he trailed kisses along your cheek and jaw, making your muscles buzz with anticipation. 
“Let it happen, love.” he moaned against your neck as you pressed yourself onto his hardening member again. 
Your hands found his soft hair and you pulled him closer as he began to suck softly at the soft skin of your neck. One of his huge hands palmed at your tits through your tank top, twisting at your hardening sensitive bud and you arched your back, whining and leaning towards your source of pleasure. 
“Love your pretty noises. Don’t stop.” Steven softly encouraged you as he continued to play with your nipple, your mind racing into overdrive.
There was a familiar throb that bloomed inside of you at Steven’s words as something finally clicked. Steven must have sensed the shift too as he smirked darkly against your neck, instantly biting down so that he could drag you away from saying what you needed to say.
“Bloody hell, unngh, it was you.” you managed to say as Steven pushed you against his hardening erection.
“Mhm.” Steven moaned as he licked a long strip up your neck to your ear, kissing the shell of your ear softly.
Every part of you felt sensitive, all tuned towards Steven. You had the sudden urge to be filled and you rutted yourself over and over against him, as if begging him to know what you actually needed. 
“Is it okay if I touch you like this?" His question was spoken lowly, as if he didn’t want to break the fragile veil that was forming over the both of you. 
“Yes, please, mngh, why didn’t you tell me sooner…” you whimpered as his hand grabbed your ass, kneading it softly as his fingers dug through your shorts, trying to feel your skin. 
“Wanna taste you so bad.” he murmured as his lips met yours again.
You were lost for words as the pages and pages of vulgarity blinded your eyes, making you squeeze them shut as you suddenly feel Steven pick you up. You were now lying on a bed, his bed, staring up at the mysterious annotator who had been plaguing your mind with absolute filth and filling your dreams with sweet wet melodies that cursed you throughout your waking life. 
“I bet you know the things I’d like to do to you, my sweet angel.” He said, trailing both of his hands down from your shoulders to the top of your tank top. 
“But you’re supposed to be-”
“Sweet Steven Grant who only cares about his studies? Oh please, darling, let me catch a break.” He ripped your tank top with surprising strength, leaving you bare for him. 
His darkened iris dragged themselves down your body, painting you with their own poetry that could not be described using words in the English dictionary. He pulled his sweater off himself and you gulped at how defined he looked. This shouldn’t be attractive. You shouldn’t be attracted to your rival. You shouldn’t be attracted to the guy who stole one of your private possessions and spilled all of his blasphemous thoughts on it before slyly returning it.
“Wanted to do this since the first day I laid my eyes on you. Didn’t know you were such a dirty girl until I got ahold of one of your books, love.” He said into your chest and you gasped at his confession, your brain still trying to comprehend everything.
Steven had your head out of your books for weeks and now he had his mouth around your nipple, sucking hard as you cried his name and pushed his head against you. You desperately needed him to quiet your mind with his tongue and you wanted it so bad that you were already shaking under him. His fingers hooked at your waistband and your hands join him there and the both of you slowly pull your shorts off you.
Steven felt up your thighs, telling you how soft you are, how nice and warm your thighs are and how they’re so pretty, whilst burying his her head in your shoulder and neck, lightly panting and nuzzling you. His hand slowly slid to your mound as he started peppering small kisses along your collarbone. His fingers grazed your hardening nub between your legs as you clench your legs together and turned your head to the side. One of his legs wrenched yours open and pinned you down, sliding his fingers through your wet swollen folds, groaning against you.
“Inside Steven” He obeys, pushing one finger inside and pumping it slowly, bringing his face up to watch your expressions contort beautifully on your face.
You throbbed and twitched around him, your cunt responding beautifully to his touch as his thumb rubs soft circles around your clit. Steven adjusted himself and now had been grinding down his erection on your thigh, throwing his head back at the feeling of your warm wet cunt. Quick breathy moans filled the air as they mingled together and you could barely differentiate yours and Steven’s from the heavy ringing in your ears. 
“You’re more beautiful than I ever imagined you to be.” he whispers and you sigh.
Suddenly his hands are off you and you whine at the loss of touch but it quickly morphed into a moan as Steven’s tongue flicked at your clit. He was so worked up that he pushed his entire face into your already wet cunt and breathed in deeply, causing you to clamp your thighs around his head. He started fucking you with his tongue, thrusting the flexible muscle in and out of you with accurate precision that had you writhing around. He pushed two fingers into you easily and started pushing them in and out as he latched himself onto your clit. Your cries were getting louder and more uncontrollable now as you found yourself heading towards your first clift of the night
“Shut the fuck up and listen, Listen to how fucking wet you are, how fucking wet you are for me.” Steven says, going shallow at first so that you could hear all the sloppy, vulgar noises that your cunt was making.
Your face was heating up and you tried to hide behind your hands but Steven wrenched your hands away, gripping them in a lock as he now pushed in deeper, deeper, going knuckle deep, finding the spots that make you shake, make you quiver.
“Come on baby, I can feel you close, you’ve already made such a huge mess around my face and hands, go ahead and cum.” with that Steven’s mouth was back on you as you hurtle past your pleasure, pussy tightly clenching around his fingers as Steven lapped up all of your spend before it could wet the bed beneath you. 
He slowly massaged your tit as you came down from your high, twitching slightly as he brought his fingers up to his mouth and started to suck them clean, moaning at the taste of you and giving you a show that you didn’t know you needed. 
You look up at Steven when he was done, your eyes big and wide as a question sits on your tongue. Steven nodded and your eyes dropped to the tent between his legs. 
"Can I touch?" you ask softly, keeping yourself from palming him through his sweats. 
"Touch what, darling?" Steven asked, making your face heat up again.
“Your cock, Steven, please.” you decided to say please anyway, before he had any forethought to tease you any longer. 
Steven flops down beside you and gestures at his crotch and you take it as a sign to undress him. You tug his sweats down along with his boxers and his cock pops out slapping against his abdomen. You lick your lips and grab ahold of him, feeling him in your hands. You kneel next to him and spit on your hand, taking his cock and starting to pump him up and down as his head lolled back onto the pillow. 
You take the tip in your mouth, just sucking on it gently. You let your tongue drag over it, smearing pre cum all over the tip as your hand continues to slowly pump him up and down. Suddenly your mouth is around him and you start sucking, driven by the noises that Steven started making. His hand was soon in your hair as he involuntarily started pushing you to take more and more of him and you obliged, swallowing around him as his tip grazed the back of your throat. 
“Gods, I didn’t know your mouth could work like this. If I knew earlier, I could use my cock to shut you up whenever I please.” Steven moans and you rolled your eyes and licked the underside of his shaft, making his cock twitch. 
Soon, you had him properly squirming against you as you bounced your head up and down his shaft. His hands were suddenly at the back of your head as he pulled you off him, spit trailing from your mouth to his dick as you took big gulps of air. 
“Need to be inside you.” he mumbles as he gently takes your arms and pulls you towards him for a bruising kiss. 
You straddled him, settling your pussy against his spit soaked cock, making him moan against your lips. You pulled away to watch his facial expression as he moved his cock to prod at your entrance. You sunk down slowly and Steven watched as your cunt swallowed him up whole, tipping his head back again as the both of you hissed from the fullness. You folded your legs behind Steven and he nestled his head against your bare breasts, inhaling your scent. He pushed himself slightly forward so that he would have enough space to fuck up into your cunt. 
And that's what he did. 
With small shallow strokes, Steven began to thrust up into your warm cunt, moaning at your tightness and feeling overwhelmed by the feeling of you around him. It was true, he’d wanted you ever since he laid eyes on you. He thought you were the most fascinating human beings he had ever met and loved the passion that flowed through you. But you were one smart cookie, beating him in every test, acing everything that made you triumphantly yell at his face. 
Sure, he wanted you to fall back a little bit and he taught himself how to gain control over you. One day, that control came upon him in the form of one of your books. He wasn’t surprised that you would read something like this, his mouth forming into a grin as the evil thoughts began to fill his mind. He jotted them down in your book and one morning, decided that it would be a good idea to deliver the book to you, setting it down at your front door and walking away quickly. 
How you didn’t notice his handwriting for weeks absolutely baffled him. He knew you were smarter than that and suddenly he realised that he’d indirectly gotten you in a chokehold. You were frantic, searching around, trying to find the person who had an iron grip around you when the person was right beside you. Part of him felt guilty when your grades started dropping and he really was going to teach you today, but your mind was clearly elsewhere. 
He snapped his hips against your ass a little harder, your face buried in his curls, moaning into his scalp. He tilted his own head up and kissed a soft spot at the bottom of your chin, making you giggle slightly. It was incredibly intimate, being in this position with Steven, but you couldn’t help but wonder whether he was doing this for his own benefit. Steven could feel your breathing change and he stopped, bringing himself to your eye level as the both of you panting softly, breathing in each other’s air from the close proximity. 
“Love?” 
“Do you really want me, Steven, or are you just doing this to have a one up on me?”  you say, trying to find a comfortable position as Steven was buried in you up to the hilt. 
Guilt began to pour over Steven’s head and he sighed, pushing your hair away from your face and taking a good look at you.
“I really want you, darling. I know my methods are questionable, but oh, I wanted you and still want you so bad.”  he said, cupping your face in his hands. 
“I’m still mad at you Steven, for making my grades drop .” you stay sternly, combing your hands through his unruly locks and dragging them to his face, tracing all of its sharp edges as his eyes flutter close. 
You couldn’t help but smile at the man before you and his words truly did turn you on. They were etched deep into your mind as you read them over and over whilst your hand was between your legs, trying hard to picture the person who had spilled all of their sins onto the pages of the books. Now you had your picture in front of you and the picture was beautiful. 
“But I can’t help but want you too.” you whispered and his worried face morphed to one of pure bliss as he relaxed, leaning his forehead against yours. 
“So, you’re going to have to make it up to me by fucking me like you promised in your writings. Okay?” you whisper against his soft breaths and he chuckled as his cock throbbed impatiently inside of you, causing you to moan. 
Steven immediately flipped you over and claimed your lips with his again, drawing his hips back and slamming into you with so much force that your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He began to thrust in and out with his own rhythm picking up speed. A calm, deep growl, and soft grunt filled your ears with each increasingly deep thrust inside you as Steven quite literally started railing you into the bed. 
Your cunt spasmed around his length and a primal craving snapped inside of Steven as his thrust became more and more powerful. He took in deep breaths, becoming high on your pheromones as you moaned his name over and over, until it started to sound like garbled garbage. He loved the way his cock stretched you out and he loved the way you were taking all of him, your whimpers spurring him on as he watched your tits jiggle. 
He grabbed your legs and folded you over, the new angle making you sob at how intense the pleasure was. Steven pushed himself against you and the sting you felt throughout your body as well as the constant thrust of Steven’s cock pushed you over the edge again with the help of his thumb at your clit. You came, squeezing Steven as tight as you possibly could. Steven felt himself collapse against you as he could only roll his hips and grind against you, your pussy sucking him in and keeping him there as he tried to help you ride out your high. 
Steven finally let himself relax as he used you for his own release, fighting against the muscles of your pussy as his cock twitched intensely. He pulled out of you and slammed into you a few more times, before releasing his own pent up spend into you, painting your walls with his seed as he rode out his own high. 
Steven let go of your legs and slumped against you, his whole body going absolutely limp from fucking you like a mad man. You pressed a small kiss on his temple and whispered a thank you into his ear as he floated back down to earth, his head pounding from the intensity of his release. 
“I’ve got more books, if you want to ruin them with your filth.” you said softly, earning a chuckle from Steven.
“Only if you focus and let me teach you, love.”
“Yada yada, fine, Professor Grant.” you say jokingly, but gulped when you felt Steven hardening inside you again.
“Hmm, looks like someone wants round two.” 
You were definitely done for now. 
Reblogs are appreciated~~~
Tagging: @fandxmslxt69 @randomnessfangirl @in-between-the-cafes @bodhisattva11 @marc-spectors-wife @nyotamalfoy @steven-grants-world @jbearre85 @whatsliferightnow @excitedcurtain864 @minigirl87 @wonderfulboiledcoldpotato @autismsupermusicalassassin @alexxavicry @flordelalunas @marygraceee @lia275 @euphoricosmo @sky-robin @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @celiaswife @violet-19999 @melodygatesauthor @romanarose
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dancingtotuyo · 23 days
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Home | Part 0.5
Frankie “Catfish” Morales x f!reader
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Rating: PG-13
Summary: Frankie tells you he’s leaving.
Warnings/Tags: established relationship, girl dad!Frankie, swearing, fighting, drug addiction, recovery
Notes: a little prequel of sorts to this beautiful little story and family that I love.
Thank you to @fhatbhabie and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for putting your beautiful eyes on this baby!
Words: 1368
Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist
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When you see the headlights in the drive, you expect Frankie to stumble in on the shoulders of one of his buddies. You wait by the backdoor to silence them the moment they stumble in so they don’t wake the sleeping infant you spent an hour putting to bed. You don’t mind drunk Frankie or stoned Frankie. You like seeing him relaxed and enjoying himself. It’s coked out Frankie you worry about. It flashes before you each time he heads out for an evening.
You trust his friends. They’ve been through literal war together. It’s him you worry about. You worry he’ll slip away from the group. It only takes minutes- seconds even.
The headlights shine across the worn siding for too long before they cut off and Frankie rounds the corner, perfectly stable on his two feet. He stops between the house and the truck, cell phone pressed to his ear. He pinches the bridge of his nose, removes his hat from his head and runs a hand through the curls before putting it back on his head. You can’t make out his words through the door, but you recognize the cadence. He’s speaking spanish. A hand lands on his hip as he turns, eyes landing on yours. He stills. Then turns away. A pit settles in your stomach.
It settles in your bones.You know who he’s talking to. You’re not going to like what he has to say. When he turns around, you’re not there anymore.
You know before the back door squeaks open. It’s always two knocks on the side of the house, three stomps on the doormat. Your hands are submerged in steaming, sudsy water as you work through the ever piling mountain of dirty dishes.
Frankie hears it as he eases out of his boots, the extra clink as each dish is placed on the drying rack. Each one sends a cringe through his body. He stands in the doorway between the mudroom and kitchen, watching you under the single kitchen light. Your shoulders are tense. He catches the flashes of rage from your eyes off your reflection in the window.
“Have a good night, Fransisco?” Your back stays turned to him.
He closes his eyes, letting out a deep sigh. “Fuck.” He practically mouths.
One plate hits another with enough force to break it if it weren’t Corell.
“Layla asleep?” He cautiously works his way toward you.
“It’s after midnight.”
The dish rack rattles again.
“Baby…”
You drop the silverware in your hand, spinning to face him. “You said you were done!” Your wet hands hit against his chest. “We agreed no more!”
Frankie captures your hands, holding them to his chest. The water seeps into his shirt. Tears prickle your vision. He’s not sure what to say, other than you’re right. “I’m sorry.” It scratches his throat as it comes out.
“That’s it? That’s all I get?”
“It’s seventeen grand,” He says. “Just recon. I’ll be back in a week.”
You scoff, pulling away from him. “It’s never just anything with the five of you. Never just one with you.” You don’t even try to hide your tears, your fears.
Frankie swallows. He should shut up. He really should. He won’t be able to convince you. He knows that. It’s like coke, always telling himself no more and just one more. One more won’t hurt. It’s a weak argument, but it’s all he’s got left. He’s not excited about this. You can see it in his eyes. He doesn’t want to go, but you know you won’t be able to talk him out of it.
“They need a pilot.”
“And Layla needs her father!” You yell. You want to scream it until the walls rattle and Pope rescinds the offer.
It falls quiet, a silent war raging between the two of you. He tries to step forward, grab your hand, but you step back out of reach. Then, Layla’s wails raise.
“Fuck,” You sigh, shoulders falling in defeat.
“I can-”
You put your hands up to stop him. “I think you’ve done enough, Frankie.”
He sighs as you walk away from him. Layla’s cries slowly fade away. Frankie clenches and unclenches his fists over and over. He wants to punch a wall or kick a chair. He wants to yell at the world as his heart tears between his entire world sitting in the bedroom and his duty to his brothers. He wishes Santiago had never come back and dragged him back into a world that makes him feel like he’s drowning.
The need courses through him, soothing all the rest. It’s unnerving how it sneaks up and pushes the rest of the world away. Rubbing his hands together, Frankie chews on his lip. His eyes flicker to the back door and then down the hall to your closed bedroom door. It would be so easy to slip out. He licks his lips. You would never know.
He’s so close to doing it. In two long strides across the kitchen, he could grab his truck keys. He passed his dealer in the same alleyway as always, a strip mall 8 minutes down the road. His muscles twitch as he almost follows his thoughts, but Layla’s sweet squeal echoes down the hallway, gluing him to the floor.
His body screams at him. The next high is only 8 minutes away. Another precious giggle. Your tired laugh follows, Nails dig into his palm. Layla is 8 steps away.
He can’t move.
He doesn’t move.
He stands there in the kitchen light for hours. Finally, his heartbeat evens out. His feet break free, carrying him to the shower where he grapples with his choices. He’s going to South America. You’re mad. He’s going back on his promise. It repeats in his head until the water runs cold, kicking him from its comfort.
He eases into your room, the soft hall light casting a warm glow over your face until the door clicks behind him. He drops his clothes in the hamper, tosses his hat in the direction of the dresser.
He looks down at Layla sleeping. He can’t make out the rise and fall of her chest in the dark. His anxiety sparks until he touches her back and it’s there steady and rhythmic.
He’s careful not to disturb you as he crawls into bed. His old ARMY shirt rides up around your thighs. You still carry the baby weight, particularly around your stomach and thighs, and it drives Frankie insane. He’s constantly fighting the urge to grab the extra parts of you. He loves it.
His rough palms slide over your thighs. Slipping under the shirt, he rests his hand in the soft folds of skin just above your underwear. He presses a kiss to the crook of your neck. Cool water droplets fall from his wet curls.
You inhale sharply, chest quivering as you let it out. Frankie pauses, holding his breath in anticipation. He assumed you were fast asleep.
It's quiet between you. The box fan roars in the window, pushing the humid Florida air around. The red alarm clock number changes. His brain shuts off as he waits for you to speak, to tell him to leave and not come back.
“When do you leave?”
Frankie’s muscles release slightly. His fingers trace little pictures along your stomach. “Thursday.”
You nod, staring straight ahead. You won’t cry. You refuse. “Just a week?”
“Just a week.”
You turn to face him, hands cupping his face. “You promise?”
He brushes the back of his hand across your cheek. “I promise.”
“I mean it, Frankie.” A choke bites at your throat. You push it down. “I can’t do this alone. We need you.”
The tears that sting your eyes finally fall. Frankie presses his forehead to yours, hand cupping the back of your neck. “I promise, baby.” He mumbles into your skin. “Just recon. 7 days.”
You nod, arms slipping around his waist. You beg for his proximity. He obliges.
He whispers the promises to you in English and Spanish over and over until your eyes fall shut. As they do, you can’t escape the sinking feeling that he’ll break every single one.
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kitashousewife · 1 year
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my love
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an: first piece for my lovesick event! i can't wait heehee it's so cute also yeah maybe a little heids coded but !! idc
pairings: timeskip!sakusa x fem!reader
warnings: fluff!! lots of fluff, sakusa is shy but very sweet, uni friends to lovers, food and eating mentions, drink mentions & consumption, confession of feelings
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every week has been about the same since the new year. working at your internship, working your regular job, coming home, just to do it all again the next day. everything was beginning to blend together into a confusing haze, one where every day feels the same. january had come and gone and before you knew it, february was knocking on your door.
the past two weeks, though, things have been a bit sweeter.
it started with a small gift bag on your doormat when you arrived home after work. there was no note, no message, not even a text about it. but, after a long first day back from the weekend you brought it inside without a second thought.
you plop down on the couch and pluck out the baby-pink tissue paper to reveal a few of your favorite candies resting at the bottom of the bag. you can't help but smile, deciding to snack on one before you started dinner.
the next day you came home to a card stuck in the door, signed with only your name. while you set your things down, you opened the card to hopefully get a clue of who it's from, which causes some money flutter out.
i hope yesterday and today feel a bit sweeter. get your favorite drink tomorrow, on me.
you hum, a little confused as to who this could be. it had to be someone you knew, considering they knew where you live. your first thought was a co-worker, but that theory proved wrong when you asked them about it the next day. you considered family, but they quickly denied.
the next week is filled with other small gifts and notes. dinner from your favorite restaurant delivered shortly after you got home, a small box of chocolates, and many other little treats. it's now only a couple days before valentines, and you're itching to find out who these could be from.
"i can't figure it out 'omi," you sigh, placing your newest gift in a vase on your kitchen counter. a dozen roses, with a printed note.
because you deserve them.
"i can't recognize the handwriting, and everything arrives before i get home, so i never see them!" you huff, grabbing a couple plates out of your cupboards for the pizza sakusa brought over.
"weird," he sighs, scrolling through his phone. you shake your head.
"yeah, weird. i just don't have any clue as to who it could be. i'm not even seeing anyone,"
"trust me, i know," sakusa teases, smirking when you throw a napkin his direction. "but seriously, i'm sure you'll find out soon. it's almost valentines day."
"so?" you raise an eyebrow, reaching in the fridge for a couple drinks. "what if they continue after that, and i'm stuck in this cycle for weeks?"
he snorts. "oh man, receiving presents every day for weeks on end? how awful,"
you roll your eyes, setting his drink down in front of him. scooting next to him at the table, you sigh. he grabs you a piece of pizza, your favorite one, and nods toward the flowers.
"i bet you'll find out soon. they look beautiful, by the way."
"yeah, i hope so. and thanks, i hope i can keep them alive for more than a couple of days."
"doubt it,"
"enough about me," you wave at him dismissively, which he grins at. "what are your valentines plans this year?"
he chews for a second before deciding what to say. really, he could give this entire act up right now.
"nothing. practice and going home. we have a few away games next week,"
"lame," you tease, grabbing his used plate for him. "the famous, star athlete, sakusa kiyoomi doesn't have a da-"
"shut up," he groans. he shuffles behind you and towards the couch, before throwing himself on it. "i'm fine," he turns on your tv and gets comfortable. "by the way, i brought dessert. it's in the fridge."
"what would i do without you, 'omi? you spoil me."
that sentence echoes throughout his mind over the next day. like he said to you, the day is almost here. his last two gifts are sitting on his kitchen counter, mocking him from where they are placed. for the last two weeks, he has tried to back out. tried to stop it all, return everything to their respective stores and forget anything even happened. but this year, he didn't want to chicken out. he wanted things to be different.
thankfully, he has some teammates who feel the same way. at the beginning of the month, they helped him create this plan. two weeks of gifts, leading up to the big reveal.
"excited for tomorrow?" hinata wiggles his eyebrows as they walk out of the gym.
"excited isn't the word i would use," sakusa rasps, kicking the rocks in the parking lot.
"it's gonna be fine! nobody can resist ya, 'omi." atusmu winks, jogging ahead of the two men. "what's the gift today?"
sakusa pulls on his car door, not even looking at his teammates.
"a dress."
"the one we showed you?" hinata's head tilts to the side. sakusa nods, firing up the ignition.
"she'll love it. i'm positive."
"i sure hope so. i'll tell you guys if i hear anything," sakusa waves and shuts the door. he drives to your apartment slowly, trying to calm any nerves that he has swimming around in his stomach.
as he pulls into the parking lot of your complex, he can tell something is a little different. he grabs the box, shallow but wide, and heads up towards your door. this is for sure the most lavish of the gifts you've received thus far, as well as the largest. he adjusts the shiny red bow on the top and steps out of the elevator.
"no, nothing today. at least not yet anyway,"
sakusa stops. his heart races immediately. that's your voice, he's sure of it. she must be home early today. he turns on his heels to go back down the elevator, deciding he will wait a few minutes to deliver it.
"oh, just going downstairs to check the mail," your keys jingle in your hand as you shut your door. "mom, don't be ridiculous, i'm sure whoever it is isn't a creep," your phone is pressed to your ear. he begins to panic. he slips into the stairwell, hoping to avoid you. thankfully you head into the elevator.
he walks quickly to your door, placing the gift up against it as he has done many times before. he heads down the stairwell, slipping through one of the side entrances before reaching his car and leaving as quickly as possible.
he groans, palms sliding down his face while he waits at the red light. he thinks to the first time he met you. you sat next to him four years ago in some business class he can't remember. you seemed shy, not speaking much for the first few weeks other than to ask for a pen. after working on a group project, you finally blossomed. the two of you became quick friends. sakusa was grateful to find someone who cared about him, not his career. someone who understood what his silence meant and what his humor was. someone who appreciated him, for him.
that's what makes this so scary, he thinks. possibly losing the only person who understands.
you hang up the phone and walk to your door, almost laughing out loud when you see the box.
"of course," you mumble to yourself. possibly your last chance to catch whoever it was and you just so happened to be out. even after getting off early.
as your front door clicks shut, you walk towards your couch. this box is much nicer than anything else you've gotten. it's light, you note, and you shake it a bit. muffled sounds of paper fill your ears, quickly making you too curious. your fingers pull the red bow, putting it off to the side. when you lift up the top, you're met with a note.
be ready by tomorrow at 7. i hope you like it.
your eyebrows thread together, moving the carefully folded tissue paper back to reveal rather expensive-looking fabric. you can't help the gasp that leaves your lips when you pull it out of its confines.
a floor-length, silky, black dress with thin straps and a slit on the thigh, and just your size. it's outstanding, both in quality and appearance. you're shocked. something you've only seen in photos and on numerous pinterest boards now rests between your fingertips. your lips part as you feel the dress once more.
excitement sets in quickly after as you realize you will be soon meeting this mystery person. you scurry to your room and hang the dress in your closet like a secret, one you can finally share tomorrow evening.
sakusa is a wreck.
it's 6:40 pm, he needs to leave in five minutes, and he still isn't sure what to wear. none of his friends will answer, not even his sister. he moves things around in his closet, pulling out the suit he wore to the last event the team was forced to go to. a plain black suit with a black tie. simple, but he's out of time. you teased him about it before, and he hopes you feel different in a few minutes.
you aren't feeling much better. your hair and makeup are finished, your shoes and purse picked out, and you're just pulling the zipper up on your dress when you check the time. you have only two minutes until your mystery admirer is revealed.
your pacing is cut short when there's a knock at your door. your heart is racing, you've never felt so nervous in your entire life.
"s-sorry! i was-kiyoomi?"
you're met with your best friend, standing in front of your door in a rather expensive suit, holding a small box in his hands.
"oh my god," he breathes, taking everything in. he thought the dress may be too much, but god was he wrong. "you look...incredible."
"thanks," you mumble. you too dies on your tongue as he walks by you and into your apartment. realization hits you like a train. "wait,"
"yeah, it's me."
"kiyoomi, i don't-"
"just listen for a sec," he looks up from the box and meets your eyes, and you nod. he clears his throat.
"i just, i didn't know how else to do this. i knew that if i tried to tell you, i would just give up like every other time," he runs a hand through his hair, pouting immediately when he remembers the time it took to style it. "i thought this would be something special,"
"it is," you step closer to him, but he only fidgets with the box.
"here," he hands it to you. "this is the final one,"
you let out a small gasp. a set of earrings and a matching necklace sparkle almost instantly in the light. two simple studs and a lone diamond rest on a dainty chain. you immediately put the earrings on and pull the necklace out of the box.
"'omi, wow. these are," your voice trails off as he grabs the necklace and stands behind you. he fastens it from behind, hands shaking slightly. the diamond falls right below your collarbone.
"they match your eyes," he looks at his shoe, before looking at you. "i saw them and couldn't stop thinking about you."
"omi, i-"
"i like you. i really, really do and i just wanted to-"
"i like you, too."
he stops, mouth open. you repeat yourself and take a step towards him. you continue.
"but, i'm me and-"
"that's kind of the whole point," he grabs your hands and chuckles. "you have always cared for me, you understand me, and you don't treat me differently like others do. you get me, and i can't explain it, but i don't want anyone else."
you smile, the prettiest smile he's ever seen.
"are you asking me out?" you tease, poking the knot of his tie. he rolls his eyes.
"yes," he laughs dryly. "what do you say?"
you begin walking toward the door.
"i would love to, kiyoomi. nothing would make me happier, to be honest,"
sakusa can breathe again. he meets you at the door and takes you by the hand, finally lacing his fingers with yours.
"any other surprises?" you ask, pressing the elevator button to the lobby.
"i can't tell you."
"why not?"
he smiles, something rare and usually only seen by you.
"gotta keep you on your toes."
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The Best of Friends
(I thought about this and I had to put it into words)
-Argyle x afab!reader/ Jonathan x afab!reader/ Johnathan x Arygle (kinda)
-warnings: smut!! threesome (👀), blowjob, fingering, pervert Johnathan
-summary: Johnathan hasn’t been the same after his breakup, but at least he has his two best friends to help him
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Johnathan knew what he was getting into when you and Argyle started dating. He was thinking his two closest friends are going to be two busy with each to hang out anymore. Even with those negative thoughts that wasn’t the case, you two made sure to equal amount of time with him you two would with each other.
You guys were especially there when Johnathan came to school from the weekend with the news Nancy broke up with him. You and Argyle felt terrible for Johnathan and wanted to cheer up your friend, no matter the cost.
Johnathan felt horrible. He thought about everything while driving to Argyle’s house. Everything that has happened in the past few weeks after his breakup with Nancy. He feels a sense of relief but also a sense of pain, he really loved this girl, but this move to California took that chance away from him.
He tried going out on his own but can’t without wanting to cry, he wants to listen to the radio but can’t help it but think of Nancy at every love song, and he could even get off without feeling horrible about this breakup. He knew the both of you wanted to cheer him up any way you could, which was a movie and game night. Johnathan parked his car, sighing before stepping out to walk to the front door. He looked at his watch, he was around 10 minutes earlier than expected.  Argyle told him before there was a spare key under the doormat for him to use anytime.
He picked the key from the ground, unlocking the door. He set the key back in its original spot before heading in. Johnathan looked around to not see his friends waiting on the couch. He saw the snacks for the night and movies laid out on the coffee table for the night. Johnathan walked around his friend’s home, walking up the stairs to continue to search for his friends.
Johnathan continued to look around, seeing Argyle room door opened slightly. He snuck up to the door, hearing movements and heavy breathing. He peaked around the cracked open door, and he felt his face heat up.
 He saw Argyle on top of you on his bed, kissing your neck as you ran your fingers through his hair. Argyle was making slow, long thrusts into you, “Babe...We should hurry up, he’s going to be here any minute..” you whined, your boyfriend kissing you in response, “Don’t worry, we have time dude...I haven’t showed you this kind of love in a while,” he said, picking up his movements to move faster into you. When you started to moan, Johnathan pulled himself back. His breath was heavy as he heard his best friend fuck his other best friend.
Trying his best to be quiet, he made his way downstairs and out the door. He pressed his back against the front door, his pants feeling tight. This was wrong, so wrong. He shouldn’t feel this way about his two best friends. He tried to spend the next few minutes calming down and try to ignore the feeling in his pants.
 Once he was able to cover his problem, he heard two people coming down the stairs with laughs and giggles. Johnathan quickly knocked on the front door, almost pounding on the wood. He rubbed his sweaty hands along his pants as you opened the door, “Hey Johnny!  You’re just in time, come on in!” you said cheerfully, “You know I don’t like that nickname, Y/n.” he pouted, walking inside yet again.
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A week pasted from the incident and Johnathan can’t stop thinking about what he saw. He had no one to really to talk to about it, he wasn’t going to tell his mom or brother, he obviously can’t tell his two best friends, he was going to burst soon though.
The three of you were in the back of Arygle’s van in the empty valley, getting ready to light up. “Johnathan, what’s wrong man? You seem kinda off,” Argyle asked, sounding concern. You also agreed while packing the bowl of grinded up weed, “Are you still upset about Nancy? We can talk about it if you want...” you said, looking at him.
“I just...I don’t know, I have something on my chest, and I can’t tell you guys,” he said. “Well you can tell us bro we won’t judge,” Argyle said, scooting closer to Johnathan. He shook his head, “No you guys would be mad and grossed out,” he groaned, trying to avoid telling his secret.
“We won’t judge you,” you said, setting the bong aside and moving to the other side of your worried friend. He paused, sighing before saying, “Do you promise to not be mad or grossed out?” he said, you two agreeing. 
“O-Okay...The day we were going to play games and watch a movie, I got there earlier than expected. I used the key under the mat and walked in and I was looking around for you guys. I walked up stairs and I continued to look and then...I saw you two...having sex..” he said, cringing at himself for talking about it, “Then I left as fast as I could to get outside. I was standing by the door for a while so it could seem I came ‘just in time’ and I feel gross cause I got..really turned on watching and hearing the both of you...” he said, finally letting the truth out.
He closed his eyes as he let out a sigh of relief and nervousness. “So, you think it was hot watching us?” you asked, voice almost a whisper. Johnathan kept his eyes screwed shut, nodding his head. “Hey man, don’t sweat it, I can see why you would be that way since you haven’t gotten any action in like a year, dude,” Argyle said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You sure?” he asked, to make sure he didn’t upset his friends. “Yeah, it’s okay Johnathan...kinda hot if you ask me..” you said, biting your bottom lip while looking at your already smirking boyfriend. Johnathan looked at the both of you, “Are you sure..?” he asked, voice quiet.
“Yeah, me and Y/n talked about letting someone else joining in one night before, if you would want to man, you have an open invitation to join us one night.” Argyle said, smiling at his friend as you grabbed the bong and started to light the packed bowl with your lighter. Johnathan smiled and nodded, silently accepting the invitation. The three of you then commenced your weekly Friday night smoke sesh.
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The next two weeks have been one of the best ever since that Friday. Ever since Johnathan accepted your invitation, the three of you seemed closer. Johnathan gradually grew happier and forgot about the Nancy situation. When you and Argyle were at the Byers residence, Joyce thanked you and your boyfriend for making Johnathan happy again.  
It was finally Friday, Johnathan invited you and Argyle to his house since his mom and siblings would be out for the night to spend time with Mike who just flew in. The three of you were in his room, talking and laughing about stuff that happened in school that day. Johnathan was laying across his bed while sit sat between Argyles’ thighs, Johnathan wouldn’t want to spend this Friday night with anyone else. He saw how Argyle tickled you and apologize with cheek kisses. Johnathan smiled as he watched, he used to have someone to do that to...
“Hey guys...” he said, catching your guy’s attention, “ Can...can I use that invitation now...?’ he asked, feeling his face heat up. The both of you looked at him, then each other. You two had a silent agreement to his request, “Okay, we’re down with it man...” Argyle said, kissing you to get Johnathan riled up. He watched with warm cheeks and a fluttery stomach, he hasn’t felt this way in a long time. He watched Argyle kiss you, using his tongue and his hands to your breast. His slow yet rough grip making you moan into your boyfriend’s mouth.
Johnathan sat up and slid a tab closer to you two as Argyle pulled away, “To get comfortable, you can kiss Y/n to start off, okay?” he said, letting you sit up and get close to your friend. Johnathan leaned in slow, closing his eyes as you closed the gap, he feels so light and a little nervous kissing his friend.
“You can touch their boobs too man, get comfortable,” He said, taking Johnathan’s hands and placing on your breasts. You smiled into your kisses with Johnathan, he seemed very excited to kiss and touch you. Knowing it’s been a year for him without any sex, you and your boyfriend want to give Johnathan a good time. Johnathan grabbed your breast with a tight grip, moaning as he did. Your boyfriend continued to guide his friend, “Now, kiss their neck, they really like that..”
He listened and moved down to kiss you neck, continuing to grope you. As you leaned your head back, your boyfriend tilted your head to face him and kiss you. “Is it okay if we start take off our clothes?” Johnathan asked while panting from feeling hot from kissing you. Argyle pulled away and nodded, starting to lift up your shirt enough to reveal your light pink bra to your friend. Johnathan feels the same tight feeling in his pants, “Excited there, dude?” Argyle asked while smiling, Johnathan smiled back and nodded, “Is it okay if I take my pants off..?” he asked, “Of course man get comfortable, we got the night ahead of us,” Argyle said, his hands traveling down your stomach.
Johnathan got off his bed to take off his pants. He looks over to see Argyle kissing you while taking off your pants. He takes a second to almost realize that he’s about to have sex with his friend and their boyfriend is allowing it to happen. He comes back onto his bed and looks down at you. “Alright man, I don’t know if you’re gonna be rusty but before I get to business, I always go down on Y/n, I think you should do the same,” Argyle said, kissing your head after.
Johnathan nodded as he lowered himself close to your panties, they matched your bra, how cute. You slid your body down Argyle’s chest, bringing yourself closer to Johnathan’s face. He took this as a sign to start as he pulled your panties to the side, seeing how wet you were. Johnathan gave you kitten licks, his arms hooking around your thighs. 
You rested one hand on his head while the other holds your boyfriend’s hand. Johnathan started feeling bolder, using his tongue on your clit as he removed on arm around your thigh, his fingers prodding at the entrance of your cunt.
Argyle groped your boob with his free hand as he kissed the temple of your head, pulling your bra down to pinch one your hardened nipples. You moaned as you felt his fingers curl up and hit your bundle of nerves. Your breath was heavy yet light at the same time, fingers gripping his brown hair from the root., “Mmm, Johnathan, don’t stop...” you moaned, closing your eyes to revel in the pleasure you feel. Your moans and plea were all Johnathan needed to pick up the pace. “That’s it, please keep going..!” you said, getting louder with your voice and moans.
it’s been a while since Johnathan has done this for someone, it felt good to know he still has magic touch. He felt himself grinding into his bed as he ate you out, giving himself some pleasure as he finger-fucked you. “That’s it man, Y/n is feeling really good now, so make sure to keep it up so they can cum,” said Argyle, giving his friend encouragement. Johnathan’s movements didn’t faulter, still having a good speed even without having to use this helpful skill in a year. Your thighs started to quiver as he sucked on your swollen bud, your grip in his hair getting tighter, “I’m so close, make me cum Johnathan..!” you squealed, pulling the hand in his hair away to cover your mouth, feeling close.
Argyle made another encourage and praising comment to Johnathan as you closed your thighs together, coming on his finger and into his mouth. Johnathan let you ride out your high, not minding your thighs. As soon as you opened your thighs, you apologized, “Sorry for like...crushing your head..” you laughed, Argyle joining. 
“Now Johnathan, I’ll let you fuck Y/n while they blow me, sound cool?” he asked, “Y-Yeah, sounds good...here hold on..” he mumbled while getting off the bed. He grabbed a box with condoms out from under his bed and grabbed one. He originally bought these for when Nancy was supposed to fly in, but plans changed. Johnathan moved his boxers and let his erection spring out, tip already leaking. He ripped the golden wrapper and slid on the rubber material as he looked over to see Argyle laying back on his bed with Y/n on top, kissing them as they stroked his dick. Y/n moved down their boyfriend’s body, getting close to his dick. His pants were pulled down to knee length as his shirt rid up his stomach.
Johnathan came back on the bed, behind Y/n, “Alright dude I know you got a rubber on but no coming inside, okay?” Argyle said, his hand resting on Y/n’s head. “Okay...Thank you guys again for this,” Johnathan said, making sure your panties are still to the side and lining himself to your entrance. You hummed as you started to suck on your boyfriend’s dick, earning a groan from him. Johnathan took a deep breath before pushing in, getting the familiar feeling back of what sex feels like again. He started off slow, holding onto Yn’s waist as he moves. 
You moaned around your boyfriend’s dick, looking up to see your boyfriend with hooded eyes and his mouth slightly open, “You look so beautiful...” he said, smiling at you after. As you hummed in response, Johnathan started to move faster, letting out a strong of moans. The three of you felt hot, a thin layer of sweat covering your bodies as all your moans harmonized together, creating a symphony of pleasure.
Johnathan closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of you from the inside. His breath felt heavy as he thrusted into you, having you bounce back on him. You continued to suck off your boyfriend, using your hand to stroke whatever couldn’t fit in your mouth. Johnathan squeezed the flesh on your ass, slapping it gently after. “Y/n likes having their ass smacked, you can keep going..” Argyle moaned, feeling you take him fully into your mouth.
“Okay..” Johnathan mumbled, feeling himself make fast and rough thrust, smacking your ass as well. You started to clench around your friend’s dick, feeling hot. You took your boyfriend’s dick out and stroked it while moaning, “You feel so good Johnathan, don’t stop...” you tell your friend before you smile at Argyle, “I love you so much baby,” you said before sucking him off again. Argyle moaned, “I love you more..” helping you move you head up and down.
Johnathan felt a coil in his stomach tighten, “Fuck I’m close..” he moaned loudly, grabbing your hips to thrust into you harder. You moaned again, feeling close as well as your boyfriend also made a comment about almost coming.
You were the first to cum, making loud, muffled noises and clenching around your friend’s cock. Johnathan was next, pulling out and take off the condom to end up coming on your lower back and ass. Argyle was last, moaning as he came into your mouth. You swallowed it all before pulling away.
All of you were panting and breathing heavy, “Hold on I’ll clean you up Y/n,” said Johnathan, getting up and grabbing a random shirt off his floor to wipe your back. Once he got the cum off and put on his pants, you laid down next to your boyfriend “That was amazing...” said Argyle, pulling up his pants and tucking himself away. You hummed and smiled, kissing him. 
In the meantime, Johnathan grabbed your pants for you and helped you put them on, “Thank you Johnny, we three definitely have to do this again...” you mumbled, cuddling with your boyfriend who agreed with you. Johnathan came up behind you, joining the cuddle pile, “You know I hate that nickname Yn,” he said smiling, hearing laughter from his two closest friends.
Breakups are hard and difficult to get over, but with some love from your close friends, they’ll help you find happiness again....some ways more extreme than others.
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The Blood in the Truth - Part Two
Part One
Series summary: Y/N is the niece of Alfred Pennyworth and childhood friend to Bruce Wayne. Feeling disappointed with her career, she goes out of her way to investigate the cases nobody else wants to.
Chapter summary: Bruce Wayne struggles to combat his feelings for his best friend and the personality of his secret persona while putting a plan in motion to keep Y/N safe after discovering the secret life she was leading. Y/N discovers a need for Batman she hadn't expected, but she was used to using those needs to distract herself from Bruce.
Note: My brain was moving faster than I could write with this one and I have so many more ideas for the next few parts! Stay tuned! All of your support on both parts One & Two would be greatly appreciated!
Warnings: fight descriptions, swearing, little bit of fluff, little bit of angst, little bit of filler
Word count: 7163
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Alfred looked at Bruce. “I don’t care what you have to do,” he stepped towards him. “You keep my niece safe, understood?” Bruce gave one nod in agreement. He knew in his bones that he would never rest until he ensured Y/N would be safe.  
Y/N spent the next two weeks huddled away in her small apartment while her injuries healed. She wasn’t in any particular mood to hear her uncles’ opinions about her current condition or why she put herself in the position of getting the injuries. She only needed to go into the office for development once a week anyway and it was always easier to write her articles from the comfort of her couch.
She continued to venture to the Iceberg Lounge on Friday nights, collecting as much information as she could when she was there and adding it to her notes. She wasn’t any closer to finding who was behind the drug, but she’d figured out it was a black powder that was inhaled. It caused hallucinations, body temperature changes, dry mouth, but a sense of calmness and security that was highly addictive.
Bruce had visited her building a few times, never getting the courage to actually knock on the door when he’d come. He ended up having more conversations with Y/N’s elderly neighbor than with Y/N herself. He was careful with the information he’d give the man and only allowed for brief details of the situation and the relationship they shared. “Another evening visit, that’s ten days in a row; she’s really gone and fuzzed your brain up, hasn’t she?” The wrinkled man asked knowingly as he began to bend down for the newspaper on his doormat.
Bruce quickly scooped the paper up and handed it off to him. “Is it that obvious?” He replied with a small laugh. The man leaned one of his shoulders against the doorframe, smiling in a way that made Bruce feel more like a grandson than a stranger.  
“I won’t pretend to have a hog-posh of life lessons to teach you, son,” his voice was calm and warm. “And, I won’t pretend I know everything of what is happening here. But, I have lived a life; I have lived a very long and happy life. I have also lived a life with regret, and I have learned that you cannot live a life without it. Before you knock on that door, you need to decide where your regret will sleep. Will you regret never knocking? Will you regret knocking and trying to convince her to stop doing the job she loves? Or, will you regret knocking and just being there for her the way she always has been for you?”
Bruce looked down as he listened to these words and tried again to decide what he’d do. The man didn’t realize Bruce had two lives, two choices, two regrets. If a choice didn’t work as Bruce, he could make a different one as Batman. But, that would be putting Y/N into Batman’s life – would that be a regret he needed to live with? Alfred seemed to think it was a risk worth taking, Batman could take care of the drugs faster than the police, and leave no evidence for Y/N to follow.
“When she moved in, she talked about you, you know?” The man continued, seeing the look of troubled uncertainty on Bruce’s face; Bruce looked up now, intrigued. “She came over to get my recipe for French Onion Soup, said it was her best friends favorite and she wanted to make it for him since he’d been crabby all week.” Bruce smiled crookedly again, looking back at his feet. He remembered the time he spoke of, shortly after Y/N moved back to Gotham and just before he’d developed his Batman persona. He didn’t see her come with it, but she’d put it in the fridge and he ate it every meal for more than a week. He didn’t know it was her that made it until Dory asked him to get the recipe from Y/N since he liked it so much.
“Thank you,” Bruce said, glancing at Y/N’s door. The man nodded and started to retreat back into his own apartment, closing the door slow enough to catch the sounds of Bruce’s knuckles rhythmically knock against Y/N’s door.
Y/N opened the door, pausing when she saw Bruce standing in wait. “Bruce?” She asked, biting her lip nervously. Bruce felt a strange sense of relief seeing her, it was a painful reminder of why he would always need to practice distance with their friendship.
“Hi,” he smiled at her, “would you maybe want to get a drink?” He motioned down the hallway anxiously. Y/N cocked her head at him, she worried what conversation may be waiting for her if she agreed to this. “I won’t give you any grief or guilt about the lounge or the case you’re working,” he reassured. “I just miss my friend and I don’t want this to come between us.” He’d decided where his regret would lay its head to rest the moment she looked into his tired eyes with her perfect ones. He figured he could handle her hating the Batman easier than he could handle her hating Bruce; he didn’t want to live in a world where he wouldn’t get to see her face around the manor for the brief moments he allowed himself.
“Would you settle for cheap wine from the clearance section at the grocery store?” She asked, a small smile playing at her lips. An airy chuckle escaped Bruce’s lungs as he nodded and smiled back at her. She turned her body to beckon him into the small apartment, closing the door behind him. “Red or white?” Y/N asked while Bruce took his shoes and coat off.
“Whatever you already have open,” he said nodding towards the glass that sat next to her laptop on the coffee table.
Y/N felt her cheeks heat up and quickly turned away, worried she looked like an idiot. “Red it is, then,” she mused as she poured him a glass. Bruce scanned over the notes that were sprawled out on her coffee table – all about the drug case. Y/N started to pack it all away after handing him his glass.
Bruce cleared his throat, “I probably can only stay for one. It’s getting late.” He looked out the large balcony windows of her apartment and noted just how close the sun was from being swallowed by the horizon.
“Makes sense,” Y/N agreed as the pair settled comfortably onto the small couch so they would face each other.
“Looks like those stitches are healing nicely,” Bruce said, nodding towards her forehead. “Anything else hurting too much still?”
Y/N shook her head as she took a sip of her wine, “no, nothing too terrible. You should see the other guy though, he won’t even look at me in the club now.”
Bruce laughed, “that doesn’t surprise me.” Y/N shot him a playful glare. “What? I know how scary you get when you’re mad; remember when Johnny Bickle beat you in debate club in Middle School? You superglued his hands to his textbooks.”
“Hey!” Y/N whined, “his dad was a judge! It was 100% rigged!”
“And that justifies gluing the poor kid’s hands to his textbooks?” Bruce chortled, “you were suspended for two weeks!”
Y/N buried her face in her hands as she laughed at the memory. “Oh my gosh, I was diabolical back then,” she grumbled as she peaked through her fingers to see Bruce’s smiling face. She took this moment, while he was still laughing to memorize the sound. It’d been so long since they were able to have a 1:1 conversation that had any sort of laughter to it that she’d nearly forgotten what the sound did to her heartrate.
“You still are,” Bruce confirmed, taking a sip from his glass. They fell into a comfortable silence, still grinning at each other.
“I hope Alfred didn’t give you too much grief for me skipping Wednesday dinners these past two weeks,” Y/N apologized, frowning slightly.
Bruce shook his head, brushing her off with a hand wave. “I won’t lie, he was hurt you didn’t come over. You’re lucky, I don’t think he’s told your dad yet.” Y/N laughed and nodded as she ran a hand anxiously through her hair; Bruce found himself mesmerized by the way the lamp light would catch the different shades and tones as she moved. “He’s just worried about you, Y/N. I am too,” he finished after forcing himself to look into his glass instead of at her hair.
“You said you wouldn’t give me grief or guilt,” Y/N pointed out, Bruce chuckled softly.
“It is just facts,” he corrected. “You don’t understand how terrifying it was seeing you like that…” He was nearly whispering now as he recalled the tight feeling in his chest. “I can’t lose you too, Y/N.”
Y/N leaned forward and set a careful hand on his forearm, “you aren’t going to lose me, Bruce.” He looked back at her, slightly shocked at how close her face had gotten from this exchange. They examined each other’s eyes for a moment, both speaking thousands of unsaid words and wishing the other one would hear them.
Bruce cleared his throat and leaned back against the armrest, breaking their contact. “As long as you promise to be safe,” he finally croaked. Y/N blushed heavily and quickly downed the rest of her wine with a nod.
“I swear I am being safe,” she reassured. Bruce finished the rest of his wine in a quick swig before setting it on the coffee table. He stared at her as she nervously looked back, trying to convince himself to stay for another drink. But the sounds of the city distracted him, or at least they distracted Batman. He could hear soft gun shots, police sirens, drunken laughter; from the safety of Y/N’s apartment he had no idea what was happening as the nightlife of Gotham woke up.
“I should…” his voice trailed off as he started to stand up. Y/N followed, looking down to hide her frown. Without looking at each other, they both reached to grab the empty glass on the table. It was very much  a movie moment, their finger tips bumping into each other. “Sorry,” Bruce whispered, moving his hand away quickly; he could feel a pressure in his chest as his heart seemed to reach for her.
“No worries,” she forced a smile at him before grabbing the glass and going to the kitchen while Bruce put his shoes and coat back on. “Drive safe, don’t let any drop heads get to you,” she teased, trying to lighten the tension that laid across the room.
Bruce scoffed slightly, hiding his knowing smirk; little did Y/N know just how many drop heads Bruce would interact with tonight. “Of course,” he agreed, turning towards her now. He swallowed his courage, he wasn’t sure when he’d be able to let himself see her like this again. He quickly opened his arms to her and cocked his head with a cheeky smile. Y/N laughed softly before walking into his open embrace.
She leaned her head against his chest, enjoying the thump of his heart in her ear while snaking her arms around his torso. He protectively wrapped his arms around her shoulders, leaning his head down slightly to rest his nose and lips on her hair. He squeezed his eyes shut as her perfume and shampoo invaded his senses, he memorized the scent months ago but welcomed the refresher happily.
Bruce broke away first, telling himself if he didn’t he would never be able to. Y/N felt the coldness wash through her body from the loss of his heat but forced a smile at him as she reached forward to unlock the door. “Tell Alfred that I will come to dinner on Wednesday with French Onion Soup if he promises to not make a huge deal about the lounge,” she requested.
Bruce nodded as he stepped out of the apartment into the dimly lit hallway, “I will see what I can do. Have a good night, Y/N.”
“Have a good night, Bruce,” Y/N echoed before slowly closing the door and leaning back against it with a sigh. She tried to focus on other things for the rest of the night; her work articles, editing her photos, studying the drug case. No matter what she did, her mind always found its way back to Bruce. Bruce’s smile, Bruce’s laugh, Bruce’s arms, the way he cared… it was all so frustratingly perfect to her even after her years of practice with ignoring it.
Bruce was in a similar position; so much so that he moved his plans for introducing Y/N and Batman into action before he even considered the outcomes. He sat in his normal perch on the building across from Y/N’s apartment and tried to think of a way to get her out so Batman could make his introductions. He was considering pulling the fire alarm, or maybe causing a blackout, when Y/N walked out onto her balcony to get some air.
Batman saw his opportunity, she was almost making it too easy. He used his grapple to get from his building to hers before scaling the bricks and landing silently behind her on the balcony. “Y/N Pennyworth,” he again forced his voice lower and deeper. Y/N turned quickly, instinctively punching her right hand towards the face of the unexpected visitor.
Batman was quick to react and blocked her punch with his forearm; Y/N countered with a swift left hook to his jaw. He grunted from the blow before quickly twisting her right arm behind her back, stopping when he was dangerously close to dislocating it all while turning her and pulling her firmly against his chest. He wrapped his free arm securely around her waist so she couldn’t move her torso more than a centimeter.
“Jesus Christ,” she grumbled, if she fought anymore she’d end up with an injured arm. He smirked ever so slightly, it’d been awhile since the pair had fought each other. “How the hell did you find me?” She spat, looking over her shoulder at him now. Thanks to their height difference, he was looking down on her in this position, but she was close enough now to trace her eyes over his sharp jawline and the deep blue eyes the bore into her.
“You are a photo journalist at The Gotham Times, but you work at the Iceberg Lounge under the name Lucy – why?” He continued, ignoring her question. “If you play nice, I will let you go,” he lowered his voice into a whisper as he leaned just slightly closer to her ear. He felt a strange confidence with her like this; it was the mask – it was always the mask. Batman was able to do and say more than Bruce was; he enjoyed that now as he soaked up the feeling of Y/N’s body against his, this embrace was very different than the one they shared not more than an hour ago.
There was a strange tension that struck between the pair, especially as he held her still. Y/N felt her cheeks warm up as his breath hit her neck. For most of her life, she’d only ever fought with Bruce. She didn’t need to bring out these skills very often; even with the men at the lounge, they were always easily subdued with just a few punches if necessary. But now, here she was in a compromising position with a mysterious stranger and she felt that same rush of desire she’d feel when fighting with Bruce.
Maybe her parents were right; she did flirt with danger. With Bruce, it was always flirting with the danger of ruining their friendship. Now, it was flirting with the danger of a literal masked vigilante. She would need to give therapy a try.
Y/N tried again to move but he was holding her so tightly that even her small wiggle hurt. “Do you always sneak up on the people you save?” She grumbled, before swiping her foot back, catching his leg to force him to let go and stumble backwards as he stopped himself from falling. She turned around to look at him, putting her fists up in case he wasn’t done fighting.
Batman smirked at her as he lifted his hands up into the air to indicate his surrender. He should have seen that coming, she always relied on her legs in a fight. “I asked you a question. I assume it’s not for money,” he motioned to the apartment behind her; it was small but technically luxury for the city. “What is it then? Sex?” He didn’t enjoy talking to her like this but he was trying to lead the conversation in the direction he needed.
Y/N scoffed at his assumption, but that is what most people assumed about the girls who worked at the Iceberg Lounge. “Working at the lounge offers an interesting perspective,” she explained, relaxing her muscles. “It helps when you’re doing a little investigating.”
“What are you investigating then?” Batman pushed, she was close to saying what he needed her to. Y/N stared at him for a moment before she decided it wasn’t so crazy for him to have gotten so much information on her; to do what he did you’d have to be good at finding secrets out.
“There’s a new drug that I think is being distributed to target people,” Y/N finally admitted, “there have been at least 26 deaths connected to it. Each one homeless, a Doe, found in abandon buildings or by the sea wall. They all had blood coming from their eyes, nose, ears and mouth; 3rd degree burns in their mouths; but for all of them the final cause of death was asphyxiation from their throats closing.”
“That doesn’t sound like something working at the lounge would offer much insight on,” Batman mused, stepping slightly closer to her in an attempt to make her feel relaxed. Y/N felt a strange sense of calmness around him the made her feel safe, made her trust him – maybe it was muscle memory of when he had saved her at the pier.
“I’ve gotten some from the off-duty cops that come through, but the majority of the information comes from the underground club,” Y/N explains. Batman straightens up, this new information intriguing him. “There’s a group of high-profile dealers that are there nearly every night, I heard them talking about some deal this past weekend. They seem tense about it, more so than normal.”
“And you think it’s connected to this new drug?” Batman confirmed, Y/N nodded in response. “I will take over from here; do not go to the lounge anymore, it’s too dangerous.”
Y/N scoffed, “just because you parade around in a fancy armored suit doesn’t mean you get to give orders to people.” Batman closed his eyes, hiding his eye roll from her. “I have been watching this for months, you just found out about it tonight.”
A frustrated groan escaped from Batman’s lips. “You don’t have any concrete evidence; just because they have similar symptoms and cause of death doesn’t mean it’s being targeted. Hundreds of the homeless population of Gotham are on different types of drugs; you are making assumptions.”
“Investigative journalists make assumptions every day,” Y/N defended with her own frustrated groan.
“You are just a photo journalist!” Bruce winced at his words as soon as they left his mouth; he couldn’t believe he was talking to her like this but there was no going back now. This was why he decided to leave his regrets with the Batman. Batman could hurt her, Bruce would never. “Leave the investigating to the real journalists.” He tried not to look at her face now, afraid to see what his words did to her. Coward, he thought before forcing himself to look into her eyes. Her soft features contorted from the harshness of his words, pain painted every inch of her expression.
“Real journalists?” Y/N scoffed, feeling tears sting at her eyes. “I think you should leave, Bat-boy,” she hissed before abruptly pushing past him and back into her apartment with a door slam. Bruce didn’t waste time on the balcony, he left as soon as she did and went directly to the tower that housed the Bat Symbol. Lt. James Gordon would see the light and come, just as he always did when Batman needed something.
Within fifteen minutes, Batman heard the metal scraping of the elevator behind him. He didn’t turn to see who it was, he only tossed a side eye over his shoulder to confirm it was Gordon before looking back out at the city. “What can I do you for?” Gordon asks awkwardly as he tentatively approaches the caped man. Even after a year of this partnership they’d developed, he still had no idea how to talk to the man.
“I need information on a new drug,” Batman informed with a coarse voice. Gordon pulled out his small notebook before nodding at him to continue. Batman explained the drug, and the slew of Doe victims that it seemed to be connected to, turning to look at Gordon now as he did.
“Hmm…” Gordon mused with pursed lips. “I haven’t heard of any sort of drug like this, man.”
Bruce felt both anxiety and discouragement ripple through him. If Gordon didn’t know about this already, that meant one of two things: either Y/N really was wrong and the string of deaths weren’t connected at all; or she is right and there is powerful hand digging deep enough to affect the police department. Either way, he still needed to find a way to disconnect her from the case after he got more information. “Just,” he grumbled finally. “Look into it.” After a final nod from Gordon, Batman was off to finally start his grid hours later than he should have.
It was another three days before they saw each other again. Y/N had been so angry after her interaction with Batman that she nearly forgot about her promise to see her uncle for dinner. She gathered her supplies for French onion soup and made her way to the manor by taxi this time.
As she entered through the kitchen, she felt slightly anxious. There was no guarantee that Bruce would have gotten through to Alfred on if he would give her much grief tonight for the lounge and she wasn’t in the mood for another lecture. “Alfie?” She called out as she started to unpack the groceries.
Bruce quickly walked from his room to the top of the staircase to shoot a glare down at Alfred, who grumbled with annoyance as he swatted a hand at the boy. Bruce wouldn’t join dinner tonight; if he was going to keep his courage to be harsh towards her as Batman, he couldn’t allow himself any extra time with Y/N as Bruce.
Alfred walked into the kitchen with a stone look on his face. Y/N sighed seeing him, “if you’re just going to be crabby about everything, I can leave.”
“No,” Alfred quickly countered. What Y/N didn’t know was that Bruce and Alfred had spent all day combing through the case files Gordon had gotten his hands on; she was right. There were obvious inconsistencies, falsified information, and general empty holes in every report. It was enough evidence to distract Alfred from his anger for the time beign. “I won’t berate you on it any longer, I know that it won’t change your mind on things. However, if you end up having any other injuries, I will tell your parents.” Y/N nodded, agreeing mostly only so he wouldn’t talk about it anymore.
They quickly relaxed into their normal conversations as Y/N cooked, Alfred got her a glass of wine to sip while she did. “Where’s Bruce? I’m making his favorite.”
Alfred hid his frown; although Bruce would never admit his feelings to Alfred, he knew. He’d seen the love they share for each other first hand and it pained him that both were so stubborn. “He’ll eat later, he’s working on some things right now.” Y/N nodded, knowing better than to push the subject.
The pair at in the living room, having the news on as background noise as their conversation continued. Bruce finally allowed himself to leave his room, it was like seeing her face was an addiction and he needed a fix. He stared at her as he walked down the stairs until her eyes flicked to him, he quickly looked away without a word or resemblance of a smile.
He wasn’t even planning on stopping until he heard the news report of the Batman’s recent “heroics”. It was Y/N’s scoff as she turned her attention towards it and angrily turned the TV off that had froze him in place. “What is it?” Alfred asked, noting her annoyed expression.
“Gotham just puts too much faith in Batman,” Y/N grumbled in response. “He’s not all that they praise him to be.”
“You know him?” Alfred asked cautiously as he shared a knowing look with Bruce. This would be the test to see if Y/N had any inkling of who the man under the mask was.
“No,” Y/N sighed as she gathered the dirty dishes in front of her for a distraction. “He found out that I work at the lounge. Let’s just say he wasn’t pleased, for some reason…” Her voice trailed off as she started to stand up. Bruce quickly darted towards the kitchen, not wanting her to know he was listening all along. He was scooping himself a bowl of the soup when she walked in. “Finally left your cave then?”
Bruce bit back the smirk that played on his lips, she didn’t know he actually had a cave. He barely glanced at her, just picked up a spoon, grunted a hello, and left the room as quickly as he came in; leaving Y/N behind him with a confused frown on her face.
That Friday, Y/N was getting ready for a date she was dreading. Detective Sam Benson had taken her out a few times over the past month and now had invited her as his plus one to the Gotham City Police Fundraiser. She also had a shift at the Iceberg Lounge afterwards that she wasn’t particularly looking forward to following her conversation with the Batman that had left her insecure about her work.
She had chosen a tight nude dress that had a lace overlay of red and pink florals. It was a deep v-neckline that showed her breasts off perfectly; it clung to her hips and thighs before tapering into a subtle skirted-ruffle at her knee which ended halfway down her shin. She wore her hair in soft waves but kept her face framing pieces slicked back behind her ears. Y/N gave herself one last nod of approval after strapping into her nude heels before tossing a long black coat on and tying off the front of it, affectively hiding her body and dress. 
Bruce had decided, against Alfred’s wishes, that he needed to try and get information from Y/N on the case. He had to know what other evidence she already had if he wanted to get this drug off the streets before Y/N put herself in further danger. He showed up at her building as her elderly neighbor was walking up the stairs with two arms full of grocery bags. “Ah, I wondered if I would see you around here again,” he mused as Bruce swiftly took the bags from him so he could rely on his cane to get up the stairs.
Bruce chuckled softly but didn’t say anything in response; he walked slowly with the man as they ascended to the 3rd floor. “How do I know if I made the right choice?” He finally asked quietly as the man fumbled for his keys.
“You won’t,” the man replied, as he pulled the bundle of keys from his pocket. “You won’t until you do. It’s a gamble, it’s always a gamble.” Bruce grimaced at him slightly before freezing as he heard Y/N’s door open.
“Bruce?” She asked, confused as she locked the door behind her. “Chester, is this man bothering you?” She teased with a wink, Bruce looked down – he didn’t realize that he never asked this man his name.
“Not at all!” Chester grinned at her, taking the bags one by one from Bruce and setting it just inside his doorway. “Are you kids off for a fun date night, then?”
“No,” both Bruce and Y/N said simultaneously. Bruce looked at her with a chuckle while she blushed with wide eyes.
“I was coming to see if you wanted to hang out, but…” his voice trailed off, noting the way she’d done her hair and makeup.
“I’m going to the fundraising event for the police department,” Y/N finished for him, sticking her bottom lip with her teeth gently; she would much rather spend her night with Bruce than Sam. As if on cue, her phone pinged in her hand: I am here. Come down, doll.
“And that is my ride,” she sighed, looking back to the men in front of her. “Next time, Bruce?” He nodded at her in agreement. “Don’t wait up, Chester,” she winked before quickly turning to leave towards the stairs.
Bruce looked back at Chester. “Pretty sure I chose wrong,” he grumbled.
Chester chuckled and shook his head, “you won’t know until you know.” He winked before waving goodbye and heading into his own apartment.
Bruce told himself he was doing this to make sure Y/N was safe, because he knew there was something shady happening in the police department, because he promised Alfred he’d keep her safe. But, as he put his nicest suit on and fixed his hair, he could feel himself hoping for more. Maybe he’d turn on his long-dormant Bruce Wayne charm and ask Y/N for a dance… he shook the thought from his head – this is to protect her.
Sam had abandoned Y/N within twenty minutes at the fundraiser, apologizing and saying he needed to greet some people and it wouldn’t be appropriate to introduce her yet. She didn’t take offense to it, she just stood near the edge of the room and sipped the warm champagne that was being trayed around as she people watched. She was used to being on the sidelines at these things after attending so many with Bruce when he took the company over.
She looked at the bar, wishing she hadn’t left her purse with her coat when she checked it with valet so she could have bought her own drink rather than what was free. She couldn’t take her eyes off the back that faced her from the bar, was that? Surely it wasn’t… she scoffed softly to herself.
Y/N walked towards the bar, weaving through the random clusters of people blocking her way. “What are the chances that Bruce Wayne’s first public appearance in months happens to be at the event I told him about not more than an hour ago?” She teased as she sipped her champagne.
Bruce turned to look at her, a sideways smile spreading over his face. He took a moment to draw his eyes over her up close now; the way her dress hugged her, the way her lips appealed to him with that lipstick color, the way her eye color exploded with her careful makeup. He felt his heart thumping in his chest, he’d need to avoid her for weeks after this. He clenched his fists at his side to stop himself for touching her.
“Well, my social calendar is managed by your over-protective uncle… so when I came back earlier than he expected and told him you’d be here…” Bruce lied, forcing a charming smile on his face.
Y/N laughed softly and took another sip of her drink. “I imagine he didn’t give you much of a choice,” she replied. Bruce shrugged in response, swimming in the sound of her honey-like laughter.
“Mr. Wayne,” the bartender said as he set two drinks down in front of them.
“Oh!” Y/N gasped slightly as a blush fluttered on her cheeks. “You’re with someone?”
Bruce nervously chuckled before taking the champagne out of her hand and replacing it with one of the drinks he ordered, a gin and tonic. “No,” he corrected, “but you hate champagne.” Y/N chewed the inside of her cheek at the action and offered him a thankful smile before the pair moved to get out of the way of the bar. “No camera tonight? Did your boss finally see that your talent stems beyond the gossip of Gotham?” Bruce complimented, trying to make up for the words he’d said to her with the mask on. “If you need a quote, I’m happy to break my silence for you.”
“No, but you can’t take that back now. I expect your first quote to the media to come directly to me,” Y/N eyed him with a smirk, he laughed softly and nodded as he gulped his scotch. “I am not here as a reporter tonight, I am actually here with someone.” She tried to keep the smile on her face but found it difficult to be excited about Sam.
Bruce didn’t miss the faulter on the corner of her lips, but he glanced around the room. Who would be stupid enough to leave Y/N standing alone in the corner of the room when she looked like this? His mind ran through the names of each eligible and non-eligible bachelor in Gotham, creating a mental hate list of each one he thought Y/N may go for. “And here he comes,” Y/N’s sigh had the smallest tinge of disappointment.
“Doll! I’ve been looking for you!” Sam exclaimed as he walked over to them, barely glancing at Bruce. “There are some people I want you to me—” confusion covered his face when he looked to Bruce; he quickly clung to Y/N’s hand possessively. “Wayne.”
“Uhm, Bruce, this is Sam Benson,” Y/N introduced awkwardly.
“Detective Sam Benson,” Sam corrected shooting a smile at Y/N who simply nodded an apology in response.
“And Sam, this is Bruce Wayne,” she finished. The two men begrudgingly shook hands, Y/N knew it was only for her benefit. Bruce didn’t offer more than a grunt of a hello. This was who she was dating? “Bruce and I grew up together until my family moved out of Gotham.”
“I see,” Sam hummed, looking back at Y/N. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Wayne. Y/N, I want you to meet some of my buddies from college and their wives…” His voice trailed off as he tugged Y/N forward, she glanced over her shoulder at Bruce and mouthed an apology as she stumbled slightly to follow.
Bruce kept his distance, he didn’t want to intrude on the night Y/N was having and, unfortunately, he did have to play the Bruce Wayne roll since he decided to come out; he chatted with city and state officials, he signed a few autographs, took a few photos, and donated a significantly sized check to the department. But through it all, he made sure that Y/N would always be in his field of vision.
It was just after 10pm when he watched her leave the large ballroom. After he was able to excuse himself from the conversation he had been trapped in, he found her waiting for a taxi by the curb. “Did something happen?” He asked as he walked up behind her, worried that maybe Sam had done something that he missed.
“What?” She asked, turning towards the sound. “Oh- Bruce,” he loved how she sighed his name when she was relieved it was only him. “No, nothing happened, I just need to get home. I’m running late.”
“Running late?” Bruce laughed softly, “it’s barely past 10pm, what could you be late for?” Y/N stuttered slightly, a flustered blush blooming on her cheeks. She didn’t know if she should tell him the truth or not, even though he knew about the lounge she knew he didn’t like it. Bruce took a deep breath as he realized what got her so flustered. “You’re working the lounge tonight?”
“Shh, Bruce,” she hushed, stepping closer and looking at the people around them who could have heard. A taxi pulled up near them and Bruce, reminding himself to let the regret stay with Batman, stepped forward and opened the back door for her.
“Just, be safe?” He urged, she smiled at him and nodded as she stepped towards the vehicle. She placed a gentle kiss to his cheek before she was gone.
Batman made it to the cave, got into his suit, and was idling in the shadows next to the Iceberg Lounge all before Y/N arrived for work. He glanced nervously at the stack of case files on the passenger seat next to him, showing them to Y/N as Bruce was risk enough – this was a gamble. He had no idea how she’d react to seeing him, much less if she’d cooperate and help him with the case.
A taxi pulled up, Batman watched to confirm that it was Y/N before getting out of his Batmobile as she walked unknowingly towards him. “Y/N” he greeted in a low voice as he stepped far enough forward for his masked face to be contoured by the neon signs from the street ahead of them.
Y/N didn’t give it a second thought when she heard his familiar voice. She sent a round of rotating upper-kicks towards his face, forcing him to back away as he blocked them with his forearms. He quickly lunged at her, attempting to get a hold of her again but she shrunk to the ground, expecting it this time. Just as he was expecting her to swipe at his feet to make him lose balance, which he dodged.
She knew her fists would do nothing to his thick-suited chest, so she stuck to her legs. She laid a series of blows to his chest and abdomen, successfully winding him and getting a pained grunt before she set her right fist towards his jaw. He skillfully caught her wrist with his hand before she made contact and pulled her towards him, spinning them around so she was pinned under him with her back pressed against the wet hood of his Batmobile.
Batman stared down into Y/N’s eyes, waiting for her to give up the fight. He’d be lying if he hadn’t imagined this situation a few times through the lonely months down in his cave. It had a different beginning, and a very different ending that what today would be having. But still, the idea of Y/N pinned to the hood of this car had crossed his mind on occasion.
Y/N finally huffed out in defeat as she glared up at him. “Does everything need to be a struggle with you?” His hushed voice was gruff; Y/N felt goosebumps flutter across her skin at the sound combined with the feeling of his hot breath against her cold cheeks. She wiggled under his body again, trying to gain some sort of composure.
“Get off of me, asshole,” she hissed. Batman slowly stood up, letting her go as he did. She didn’t fight after he released her, deciding to just sit on the hood of the vehicle and glare at him with her arms crossed. “Following me again?”
“I have something for you,” Batman sighed, walking around the vehicle and grabbing the stack of files from the passenger seat. He nearly chickened out right there, he was pulling her in closer to the case by giving her this – the opposite effect he was trying to have. He handed them to her, watching a soft ‘v’ form between her eyebrows as she flicked through some of the files.
“Are these all…?” She trailed off, looking at the masked man as she stood up straight now.
He nodded, “this year alone, we’re looking at about 70 deaths. Someone on the inside is hiding it so that nobody else sees the pattern too.” Y/N bit her lip nervously, flipping open the first file and reading the top page of it.
“This is missing multiple steps of required documentation,” she noted in a frustrated tone.
“That’s what I said too,” Batman laughed softly. “Do you recognize any of the cops on file?”
Y/N quickly fingered through the stack again. “A few of them,” she confirmed, “Andy Sadder – he comes to the lounge sometimes, he may even be here tonight. I could see if I could get close to hi—”
“No,” Bruce interrupted, groaning at his own sudden urgency. “I told you, it’s too dangerous.”
“Then why even show me these?” Y/N scoffed, “do you have a different plan on how you will get in there for first hand information?” He stared back at her for a long moment, trying to stop the calculated plan from forming in his mind. This was frustrating; feeling the urge to help and investigate this as Batman but also needing to separate Y/N from it as Bruce.
“Fine,” he finally agreed, “but you’re not going in alone.”
“I think it’ll look suspicious if a 6-foot man dressed in a black leather suit and cape is following me around while I try to get off-duty cops drunk enough to spill their secrets…” Y/N joked slightly, feeling more at ease after hearing him agree with her.
Batman dipped his torso into his vehicle and grabbed a small box that held a spare contact lens and earpiece for if his gets damaged. He handed it off to Y/N, she looked at it confused. “I will be right there with you, seeing and hearing everything that happens,” he explained. He knew Alfred would not be happy about this but it was the only way Bruce would be able to confirm her safety at all times. He had to try.
“Why can’t you just let it go?” Y/N asked with an eyeroll as she begrudgingly added the set to her ear and eye.
“I don’t know,” Bruce mumbled, watching the screens from in his vehicle change point of view to her new lens before cutting out to static. He stepped closer to her and tipped her chin up with his gloved fingertips. Y/N, seeing his eyes clearer now, felt a heat rush through her chest. Their bodies were close enough that she could see the slight stubble on his cheeks and jaw and watched his tongue dart out to wet his chapped lips. “Blink,” he ordered in a whisper. She gulped and pushed the confused thoughts out of her head before rapidly blinking until she felt the contact slip back into place.
She forced herself to step backwards as she cleared her throat before turning and walking through the employee door into the lounge. “I’m right here,” the voice in her ear brought goosebumps across her skin and the heat went from her chest and found its way between her thighs.
Fuck, she thought, I can't want him...
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spicyclover · 1 year
Text
Ultimatum | Part three
Summary: You give Charles an ultimatum. His apartment or you.  
Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four | Part five
Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!
Little information, I will, for now, only post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.
Thank you, and Enjoy! :)
Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover
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You decided to leave Monaco. You can’t take all the pressure your friends put on you to talk to Charles. You don’t want to see him, talk or even think of him. That’s why you left. Your maternal grandmother has a house in the South West of France. Away from all the hustle and bustle of Monaco and away from him. You never talk about the existence of this house to anyone, so you hope to find calm and serenity there.
You rushed out during the night with two large suitcases, several travel bags and all the necessary documents for your extended stay there. You drove all night, and it was only at sunrise that you reached the house. It’s a small country house on the border with Spain. The smell of the Atlantic Ocean has always done you good, and returning to the holiday home of your childhood allows memories to resurface.
Charles came back from Paris. He tried to get in touch with you, but you blocked all communication with him. In fact, you blocked his entire family and any relative who could give him any kind of information. After the video, you didn’t know what to think or say. But you promise yourself that you won't fall for his stupid game again. 
You spend the night after you see the video arguing with him.
“What did I do to you? What did I do to you?” You yell at him on the phone. 
“Nothing.” He says, defeated. 
“D’accord, donc t’es une merde!” You assert by cutting communication. Okay, so you’re a piece of shit.
Your seven-month-old tummy keeps you from fixing the house as you wish, but you make a mental note to get there. You don’t want to contact anyone because you don’t want to tell Charles. You blame yourself for cutting him out of your life this way, but he hurt you, and you don’t want your baby to be born in this atmosphere.
You want a loving and welcoming home for that little being you’ve been keeping warm all this time.
“You’re going to be so loved, baby, even if dad an asshole. I am going to make sure you have the best life.” 
He found out you were leaving only hours after you left. The janitor brought him into the building after hearing him bellowing for about 20 minutes for you to open up.
He is the one who informed Charles of your departure. You told him nothing, only that you would not return. Charles looks at him in disbelief, asking the see the apartment. He rushes inside only to find it empty of you. All your clothes, electronics, vinyl, and books are gone.
He went around several times, hoping it was a dream, a bad dream. Yet, you’re off to a good start. You made sure to leave Charles' things behind. All your photos, his clothes, jewelry, perfume, everything. 
He discovered the room you had prepared for your daughter. A beautiful room with a warm tone, neither feminine nor masculine. A perfect blend of colour and texture.
There is still the onesie you had prepared in the cradle with a small cap, tiny socks, and some comforters surrounding the bed. Tears rise in his eyes, and he bursts into tears taking the clothes in his hands.
“J’ai merdé. J’ai tellement merdé.” he cries out. I fucked up. I fucked up hard. 
Charles knows you found out about the video. It wasn’t hard to know because when he went out of the bathroom with that girl, one of your best friends was waiting for him. She’s staring at him like hell, threatening to make him miserable for making you suffer, and she yells at him to never talk to her again.
He came to your apartment that night. Looking completely distraught and determined. He knocked on your door several times before you came to open it, pissed.
"I warn you if you slam the door on me. I sleep on the doormat."
“Goodnight, then.”You slam the door violently without saying anything more.
And you left him there all night. He looked miserable the next day when Max came to dislodge him at your request. You didn’t call the police to avoid a scandal, but you didn’t want to deport him yourself.
You cried on the phone to Max so he could come and help you, knowing full well that Max would not let himself be stepped on by your boyfriend. And he pulled him out hard, forced him down the stairs and took it home. Large black pockets were present under Charles' eyes.
Christmas arrives, and Charles still has no news of you; where you are, how you are, how the baby is, nothing. Your friends don't have anything information either. Everyone is worried, and Charles is about to explode. Not knowing kills him more and more each day. And his family fills him with more and more crazy ideas.
For your part, you got your last ultrasound a few days before Christmas with a new doctor and your mom as your partner. You contacted your old doctor two weeks after you arrived. You had heartburn and pain in your lower abdomen, so he asked you what you did, and you explained briefly what happened. He advised you to rest for the rest of the pregnancy without going into too much detail. At least until the baby’s born in February.
For the holiday season, your parents came with your brother to give you a little help. To fix the house and prepare a new room for the baby. It feels good to have them near you. You missed your parents terribly.
You and your mom have been talking a lot about Charles' case, and you’re feeling more and more guilty about leaving, but ever since you got here. You feel more comfortable and less stressed. You have no desire to return to Monaco.
She, however, advised you to contact him. Tell him that you are well and that the baby is too because, after all, he is the father. You were frustrated with her words, but you knew deep down that she was right.
You didn’t find the courage to unblock his contact, but you still sent a message to his assistant, telling her that you were fine and the baby was fine too. You didn’t add anything more. Only you don’t want to see him anymore and need to think.
A little embarrassed you couldn’t talk to him, but you wanted to hurt him like he hurt you.
It was only on the morning of Christmas Eve, the 24th, that you received a notification from your lawyer.
To be continued... 
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lokis-army-77 · 1 year
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Could you do a Eddie x reader fanfic where their relationship is a secret? Eventually Dustin gets all suspicious cause Eddie’s missing lunch and hellfire meetings ( not a actual campaign he would never) he then goes and tells mike about it and they go ahead and try to investigate by going to Eddie’s trailer?

Where have you been?
Eddie Munson x female reader
Word Count: 1869
Eddie has been missing when it comes to hanging out with his friends and Dustin wants to find out why.
Warning: honestly not much of an x reader, it more follows Dustin and Mike but you still see the relationship. I don't classify it as angst but some could, fluff, spying.
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The week had started out normal, it was only when mid-week that Dustin had begun to notice some odd habits coming from his dungeon master, Eddie Munson, and the only girl in their club, y/n. On Wednesday, neither of them had shown up to lunch, which in and of itself wasn’t that unusual but then that afternoon, after school, they weren't at Hellfire either. Wednesdays were the days the whole club got together not to really play the main campaign but maybe a short one shot created by someone other than Eddie, or to just fuck around like all high school boys do when there isn’t anything else happening. 
Dustin had let it slide until it started to become a daily occurrence and when asked, Eddie always just insisted he was busy and that it wasn’t that big of a deal. But to Dustin, not having one of his favorite people around, it was that big. 
So he devised a plan to catch Eddie in the act of what the hell was so much more important than hanging out with Hellfire. 
His first stop, the Wheeler house. 
Dustin knocked on the door before barging in, startling Mrs. Wheeler as she was walking to answer it. 
“Dustin, what a surprise.” She smiled at him. 
“Hi. Mrs. Wheeler. I need to see Mike.” He smiled back but hurried past her to the basement door. 
“He’s upstairs in his room Sweetie.”
“Oh, thanks.” He turned on his heel and sprinted up the steps. 
Mike’s door was shut sight but that didn’t stop him from coming in unannounced. At the loud noise of the door swinging into the wall, Mike quickly looked up at his friend from his desk, eyes wide. 
“Dude, what the fuck?” 
“Get up, I need you to come with me.” 
Mike turned in his chair. “Need to come with you where?”
Dustin walked over and grabbed Mike's arm. “Eddie’s house. He keeps canceling Wednesday night Hellfire and I want to get to the bottom of why.”
“But he literally told you why the other day. He’s busy and it’s not like he’s missing the actual main campaign.”
“But we never get to see him. Even Garith said he was midding band practice too. Honestly, Mike, what is so important that he’s skipping lunch, midweek hellfire, and band practice?”
“Dustin.” Mike sighed.
“It has been going on for weeks and I want to know why.”
Mike sat for a minute and thought before standing reluctantly to his feet. 
“Alright, fine, I’ll come with you, but if Eddie gets mad that we were spying on him, I’m blaming you.”
When the two boys arrived at Eddie’s trailer that Saturday afternoon, no one was home. Eddie’s van was nowhere to be seen and Wayne was working overtime like he did every weekend. The two boys found the spare keep under the doormat and then slipped inside. 
“Dude, what are we even looking for?” Mike asked as they both began walking through the home.
“Uh, I have no clue. Anything that can tell us why he isn’t hanging out with us anymore.”
They found nothing in the living room or the kitchen but when they searched the bathroom, they did find something unusual residing in the medicine cabinet of a trailer where only men lived. A box of tampons sat in the direct middle of the shelf, staining back at the two wide-eyed boys. 
“No way,” Mike muttered. 
“Is he ditching the group for a girl?” 
“Maybe, why else would he have these?” 
“It makes no sense. He’s never mentioned a girl and he definitely doesn't hang out with them.” 
“You don’t know that.”
“Name one girl outside of Robin, with Steve mind you, that he hangs out with.” 
“y/n,” Mike stated matter of factly. 
“Wrong, he only hangs out with her at school during unch and hellfire.”
“Yeah, and who has also not been showing up to lunch and midweek hellfire the same as Eddie?”
“What do you mean?” 
“Man, have you really not noticed that they are both gone at the same time?”
“No?” 
“Oh my god, Dustin, really?”
“What?” Dustin scoffed.
“If you would have just put two and two together then we wouldn’t have to be here right now.” 
“No, you just thought of that. If you would have said something before we got here-” He trailed off. 
“Hey don’t do that. I’m not taking the blame for anything here. Come on let's just go.” Mike started out of the bathroom and down the short hall. 
“Mike wait. Let's check out Eddie’s room first, just to confirm the suspicion.” Dustin didn’t wait for his friend, choosing to go straight into the twenty-year-olds messy room. 
There were shirts strewn around the floor as well as a few papers. On his bedside table were an ashtray of half-smoked cigarettes and Dr. Pepper cans. Noting out of the ordinary for a guy's room. 
Still curious, the boys began to go through Eddie’s dresser drawers. Dustin stopped when he opened the top drawer of the dresser on the farthest side of Eddie’s room. 
 “This definitely isn’t Eddie’s.” Dustin laughed, pinching the strap of a light blue bra and tossing it at Mike. 
“Ew, dude, why did you do that.” Mike swatted at the article of clothing. 
Dustin ignored him and kept digging for any identifying items of clothing. 
“Uh, Dustin.” 
“What.” 
“We might be caught.” 
“What do you mean?” He kept rummaging.
“Eddie’s back.” 
Then, the sound of loud music could be heard as Eddie’s fan pulled into its spot in front of the trailer.
“Shit. Quick, hide.” Dustin whisper and shouted at Mike. They both rushed into Eddie’s practically empty closet and closed the doors, leaving only a small crack for some light. 
Both boys tensed when they heard footsteps coming in their direction. Their hands flew to their mouths to keep their breaths quiet. 
That’s when y/n came in, sighing as she crashed on Eddie’s bed and curled up into the pillows. Eddie wasn’t far behind by the sound of his quick footsteps. 
“You know, you wouldn't be so tired if you went to bed earlier," Eddie smirked as he came through the door.
The boys in the closet watched as she grabbed a pillow and flung it at Eddie. 
"I would if someone who stop calling me to 'just chat'." She grumbled out but her sour tone was soon replaced by a laugh.
"Excuse me." Eddie feigned offense and fell onto the bed beside her. "Here I was thinking you enjoyed our midnight chats."
"I do Eds, I do. But all that staying up late is starting to catch up with me." 
Both Dustin and Mike cringed away from the crack in the closet door as Eddie and Y/n shared a tender kiss. 
Eddie smiled into their kiss, hands coming to wrap around the girl's body and turning so that he held her on top of himself. 
"Well, then I guess we'll just have to take a nap." He gave her another kiss on the cheek. 
Mike, hidden behind the closet door, gagged and shuffled back, his foot crunching down on something he could not see. 
Dustin turned his head slightly to him and mouthed "What the fuck?" Before trying to push himself further into the dark recesses of the closet. 
Y/n and Eddie had stopped their shows of affection on the bed as soon as they had heard the crunch. Y/n's hair fell into her eyes as she whipped her head in the direction of the noise.
"Eddie, I think something is in your closet." She pushed herself off his chest and watched as Eddie sat up. 
They both sat and listened for a moment more before Eddie finally stood and made his way to the doors. 
With a quick flick of the wrist, the doors were pushed wide open, revealing the two fifteen-year-olds huddled on the floor of the closet. 
"Henderson? Wheeler? What the hell are the two doing in my closet?" Eddie asked stunned to see the two boys. "Better yet, what are you even doing in my home?"
"Uh…" they both looked up at Eddie like deers in the headlights, mouths gapping and eyes so wide you would think they'd pop out. 
Then, Mike spoke up. "It was all Dustin's idea." He flung his finger out to point to the other boy and Eddie followed, turning his head and raising an eyebrow in quiet questioning. 
Dustin just laughed nervously before sinking into himself. 
"Come on you two, out of my closet. Then you can explain." Eddie turned and sat back down on his bed. He and y/n watched as the two boys awkwardly climbed out of the narrow closet and to their feet.
"So.." Eddie started, gesturing to them.
"Um, well we came to surprise you." Dustin lied.
"Bullshit," Eddie called.
"Okay well, not exactly surprise. More like spy?" Dustin's voice rose at the end making it sound like he was questioning his own actions.
"Why the hell are you two spying on me?" 
"Well you've been missing lunch and Wednesday nights for the past several weeks and I wanted to know why since you wouldn't tell me the other day."
"Because it's none of your business. What I do with my time is of no concern to anyone but me." 
"I know, I know, but I was just curious as to what needed your attention all the time."
Y/n let out a short chuckle and raised her hand sheepishly. "Sorry, that would be me."
"See I told you." Mike shoved Dustin's shoulder playfully.
"Told him what?" Asked Eddie. 
"Just that you were probably hanging out with Y/n since she's been disappearing when you do. Although I only caught on after we got here." Explained Mike.
"I guess the secret is out of the bag, Eds." Y/n sighed, looking between the two younger boys and Eddie.
"Definitely. Totally didn't enjoy watching you both suck face." Groaned Dustin.
"Serves you right for spying." Eddie laughed before standing to his feet. "Now come on, it's time for you two to go." He grabbed them both by the collar of their shirts and guided them out of the room.
"Bye boys!" Y/n called after them.
"Bye!"
When they stood in front of the door, Dustin sighed before turning around. "Eddie?"
"Yeah, Henderson?"
"Since we now know the reason you've been skipping out on things, do you think you could at least come to Wednesday nights like once a month? I've got a one-shot campaign I've been wanting to run but you haven't been there."
Eddie sighed, brought his hand to the back of his neck, and began to rub. 
"Yeah, man, I can do that."
"And you know that you guys don't have to hide your relationship from us right? We're friends." Mike spoke.
"I know. We just thought it would be easier if no one knew." Eddie opened the front door. "Now leave."
"Yep." 
"Okay."
The two boys spoke in unison as they ran out the door. Both laughing and Eddie slammed the door and they could faintly hear him call out, "Now where were we, babe?"
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anxiousfanchild · 10 months
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The Haymitch headcanons were so good aaaaaaa There is so little of him it's always so so exciting finding more content for him.
Wondering if you would be willing to do more about those rare midday naps? Pretty please? The man truly needs the rest
Word Count: 668
Content Warnings: Alcholism/Alchol mention; Haymitch being Haymitch
Requests are open and encouraged!
Donations towards my wedding are accepted: Ko-fi
A/N: I will ALWAYS accept Haymitch requests, I love this cranky little man so much! I hope you enjoy Anon!
It was something about Thursdays that Haymitch hated so much. Maybe it was like false hope, that the week was almost over, but just not quite there yet. Or maybe it was the only day Katniss and Peeta decided to leave him alone, leaving him to his thoughts. You weren’t sure, but you knew he needed to just relax. 
Your footsteps were quiet as you made your way up to the front door of his recently rebuilt house. Something about the familiarity made him want to come back in the midst of the rebuild. With a soft hand, you raise it and knock on the front door. The silence lasted a little too long for your comfort as you reached down and tried the handle. Locked, you aren’t sure what exactly you were expecting. 
With a soft sigh, you would crouch down, checking under the doormat for the extra key. A happy gasp indicates your found the key as you straighten back up. As soon as you insert the key, the door opens, revealing a disheveled Haymitch, the nauseating scent of tequila following him. You could barely contain your scowl, looking up at your… Friend? Lover? You don’t really know what you could classify him as, the thought of even giving your relationship a title made your head all fuzzy. 
Haymitch cocks an eyebrow, eyes staring directly into yours. 
“3:00pm, on the dot. Every Thursday.” He comments, glancing down at the watch on his wrist that you knew didn’t work. The observation nonetheless drew heat to your cheeks. 
“I like my routines.” You started coolly, following his own tone. The way you mimicked him brought just the faintest of teasing smirks to his lips, as he crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. You tilt your head, crossing your arms in retaliation, the same smirk tugging at the corners of your own lips. 
“Can I enter?”
“Are you a vampire or some shit?”
He nonetheless steps aside and allows you to enter. The floor of the entrance way was a mess, empty bottles and wrappers littering the sticky floor. You cringe, not even trying to hide it, as you make your way to the couch in the living room. Same routine, every Thursday. He was right behind you, before sitting onto the plush couch with a grunt. You watch as he got comfortable, head on the arm of the sofa, one leg propped up and the other stretched across the other arm. 
You wait for permission, a simple head nod, before settling yourself into his chest. The scent of old cologne, alcohol, and sweat. You would have to attempt to convince him to take a shower later, but that was a problem for the future. Your head settles comfortably in the area between his neck and chest, nose brushing against the buttons of his shirt. 
You could have sworn you heard a sigh of relief from him as he wrapped his arms around your frame. His warmth was enough to instantly put you at ease, eyes sliding closed with sudden drowsiness. You could feel one of his hands trace small patterns into the back of your shirt, like he was making sure you were real. Once he was convinced, his hands would slow to a stop, his breathing leveling out. 
You know it wouldn’t be a deep sleep, but it would be enough to relax him. You shift ever so slightly to look up at his face, which was still rough and stressed, even in sleep. Your eyes trace over every wrinkle, every line and bump, before settling on his closed eyes. 
With a sigh, you close your eyes again. It was impossible, being so close to him, being able to see him in such a vulnerable position, but not being allowed to call him yours. You knew this was for the best though, cuddle sessions and drinking nights together. It was the closest you’ll ever get to him. 
You were okay with it, for now.
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