#SORRY ITS RUBBISH

[peapodsplace]

Hey Baba, it seems like you've been seeing a lot of yucky stuff online right now. A lot of people who aren't remembering their manners and are forgetting that there's people behind a screen. I know you like your screen time but please remember that the world isn't all like that okay? Some people are different online and forget their values and let's remember that these days, algorithms perpously show you things that'll make you upset. Yes, yes it's not very fair, is it sweetheart. Please remember to take some breaks and that the world isn't really like that. It's so important to protect yourself. Yes, silly even if you think you don't deserve it; because you do.

[wonderbutch]

wonder woman by tom king they could never make me read you

[purpleender29]

So i did the torso bit and attempted arms, the straps are annoying but not horrible to look at… probably, will try to use a diff puzzles face for attempt 3 even tho this one is easiest to draw.

[bogslob]

Since wrath of the triple goddess is now out, does anyone know where i can get a copy with the American cover in the uk

[httpiastri]

Oscar will get his gp win before lando. lando will not even be able to hold max off to convert this pole to a win like oscar was able to. this will just confirm who the better driver for wins and championships is.

i’m gonna start off my saying that i was a lando fan before i was an oscar fan and i love love love lando with all of my heart, just like i do with oscar. none of this is anything personal against any of the boys!!

i don't really feel qualified to say something good about this because my memory is really bad. i do not remember what i had for lunch yesterday. however, i think it's important to remember that there were some differences between the grids in the sprints of qatar and brazil. i think that, if we forget about the difference in tracks and temperature and tire deg and whatnot, it makes quite a lot of difference for max to be starting p2 instead of p3 – especially being p3 and having carlos and george on the softs driving past him in like one second.

in qatar, max dropped back and had to fight with a lot of other drivers, while oscar could pull away at least a bit. he got overtaken by george, but kept cool and when george's tires weren't good anymore, he had no problem keeping the lead. of course, oscar managed several good restarts after the safety cars, but he wasn't really under any pressure from behind, except for george (right? do i remember this correctly? i really apologize otherwise). BUT max was catching up towards the end and he probably would've been able to go past if there had been more laps, both considering how oscar has been struggling with his tires, & the power of the red bull....

but this weekend, max had a good start and then that was it. he didn't have anyone fighting him or holding him back.

i don't think i came to any conclusion here, but maybe the conclusion is that it's not just that easy to compare oscar's sprint pole to lando's. i think that any kind of conclusions rn are hard tbh since the red bull is so insanely good. the only thing i know is that lando is fast as fuck (check out his position in the standings, he spent so many rounds fighting for the bottom points and now he has SEVEN podiums???) and oscar is doing so so well as a rookie too. i'm super excited for the future of mclaren and our boys <3

[hayleysstark]

HE.................................

[gingerbreadmonsters]

ginger, cracking an eyelid and thinking about opening requests for a little bit? its more likely than you think 👀👀

[angelfoodscake]

me just chilling and then i remember the time my mum threw out all my sketchbooks

[chickpea0]

@cams-cozy-corner totally!

I think a decent amount of people are somewhat aware of it in the sense that they know they or others feel small and scared when something shocking happens and they just ascribe that to regular, non regression related 'small and scared and feeling like a helpless child'. It's also somewhat common knowledge that someone might act like a child in tense situations but they see that as a Thing that Happens and don't really think much of it. Like, the gag where a character would ask for their mummy or start crying like a kid.

Some poeple do recognise regression as reverting back to a younger headspace but don't really have the language for it and they also don't see it in the way we (the online community) sees it. A lot of us use it like a tool and treat it like an identity and embrace it. Someone who might be prone to regression who doesn't embrace it or really think of it in a certain way much might not regress as much, creating or existing in an enviroment where regression is seen in a certain light can encourage it too!

I think also that the lines between regressor and non-regressor are really, really not as black and white as some people think. When it comes to psychology it can be pretty hard to draw lines in the sand, the brain is SO complex and there's so many layers to it. Some choose to make room in their life for regression, some fight it, some aren't aware and some just are doing their own thing.

So it's quite likely that there are quite a few people who do similar things to you in your area but not everyone is in the online agere community, nor even call it the same things!

one sad thing i think about sometimes is like... well, yeah, agere/agedre communities aren't as massive... but also it's practically non-existent where i'm from and that thought sometimes feels lonely even though online communities exist... i think it's something about knowing you're not geographically alone in the way you cope ?

[lostkitty420]

The Window In The Bathroom

Sitting nude next to an open windowon the 7th floor

& I have a joint in my fingers

I don’t normally drink gin

but it was purple

& I do love the color

I don’t know if I prefer to sway over the hot bath

or the cold street

I don’t know if I want someone to look up

or if I wish to fall down

All I’m sure of

is that I shouldn’t be smoking this joint in the apartment.   

–A

[yelenasdiary]

Little Spidey

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Spider-Woman! Reader

Summary: After coming home from a long mission, you struggle to accept a little shift in your relationships. 

Angst, Comfort, Fluff

Warnings: Brief mentions depression & loneliness | 1.3K

AC: Wrote this for my good friend, @scarletwidowblackwitch ! so sorry it took me forever to get this one out for you! I hope you enjoy! x 

Your apartment was quiet while you lay in bed staring at the roof, usually your roommates, Peter and Kate would be making so much noise that a sleep in was almost non-existent in the small apartment. The time on your phone reading, 10:16am reminded you just how hungry you were. After getting home rather late last night, sliding through the door without making a sound, careful not to wake your roommates, you took a shower and fell as the second your head hit the pillow. 

You wandered into the kitchen, the two friends of yours leaving it how they normally did. Their breakfast dishes in the sink, crumbs from the cereal box on the countertop along with some small droplets of milk. You shook your head with a soft, amused smile on your lips as you reached for a wash cloth to clean up after them. 

After breakfast, you showered and gave your suit a quick steam before you picked up your phone, the weather was beautiful today, the sun kissing the city of New York with its warm touch made you think about a nice catch up with you a friend or two in Central Park. You called Wanda first, knowing just how much she loved getting a latte and some fresh air but your call went to voice mail, maybe she was on a mission you thought. 

Next you tried your roommate, Kate but no answer then you tried your luck with Peter. 

“Hey, Y/n, what’s up?” The young adult happily asked. 

“I just wanted to know if you were busy? Thought we could grab a smoothie and hang out?” You replied. 

“Wait, when did you get back? I thought you were still on that big job?”

“Uh, last night. I didn’t want to wake you or Kate, so I was pretty quiet” you lightly chuckled. 

“Welcome back! I would hang out today but Tony’s got me doing training in this new suit he made me, can we do a rain check?” He questioned with doubt in his voice. 

“Of course, let me know whenever you’re free” you did your best to sound unbothered before Peter said he’d text you before hanging up the line. You let out a light sigh before you checked the Avengers app that Tony created to keep up with who was on missions and to no surprise, Natasha was on a mission, Bucky was on a mission, Steve was with Bucky, Sam was booked for training, Tony was with Peter and Kate was with Clint on someday training trip. With that information, you tossed your phone on your freshly made bed and decided to go to the gym for an hour or so. 

As the days went by, you couldn’t help the negative thoughts that dawned on you. Almost everybody had returned from their missions and were staying at the compound to catch up on mission reports. You joined them all at the compound but the quietness that you woke up too days before still lingered. You wondered if you were annoying those around you, your text messages went unread, or you only got short replies back. Plans to catch up went abandoned leaving you alone while your insecurities dawned on you. 

A week has floated by you while you did your best to keep yourself distracted from the loneliness that crept into the apartment, your roommates barely coming home for more than a nights sleep. The apartment still quiet over your favorite playlist that played in the background, nothing on the streaming apps seemed interesting enough to keep the silence from becoming louder at night. Rubbish from your favorite almost overflowing the bin in the kitchen reminding you to take it out in the morning. 

You were getting yourself ready for bed when you heard a knock at the door, you couldn’t help but sigh lightly thinking it was probably the elderly neighbor with some gossip of yet another delinquent hanging around, suspiciously. You opened the door only to be met with the familiar green eyes and locks of red hair that you had missed dearly. 

“Y/n! you’re back?!” Beamed Natasha as her eyes lit up, “nobody told me you were back, and I lost my freaking phone” she adds. 

You give her a weak smile, knowing she probably wasn’t even here to see you in the first place. “I guess everybody has been busy, are you here to see Kate or Peter?” You asked causing Nat to frown slightly. “I needed to speak to Kate about something, but I don’t care about that, it can wait” she replied, giving you a soft smile, “my detka is home” she added. 

The pet name getting the better of you as you felt your cheeks get warm. Natasha wrapped her arms around you and gently pulled you in for a hug, “I missed you so much” she said in an almost whisper. You felt yourself practically melt into her hold, missing the way her arms always felt like home. Her dark rose scented perfume leaving its mark on your clothing, a smell you forgot just how much you missed. 

“Why don’t you come stay at mine tonight?” Your girlfriend asked, pulling back to look you in the eyes ones more. Her highly trained skills to read people never failed her when it came to you, she saw past the weak smile and the sadness in your eyes no matter how much you thought you were good at hiding. “I don’t know, I don’t wanna be a burden” you confessed to the widow. 

“A burden? Honey, you could never be a burden. Besides we both know I have the best fluff blankets” She says, gently cupping your face before planting a soft kiss on your lips, “and maybe you can tell me what’s got my little Spidey so down” she adds. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle ever so lightly at the nickname, “are you sure?” You asked, needing reassurance. 

“Detka, if you think I’m leaving you alone, think again” she smirks.

“Let me go pack my overnight bag, come in” you smile softly as she walks in, closing the door behind her. 

“Why don’t you pack a little more than just one bag?” The widow suggested. 

You stopped in your tracks halfway down the hall, turning to face her once more, “Nat, I can’t just leave without telling Peter and Kate” you reply, “Rent is due next week, it wouldn’t be fair” 

Natasha shrugged, “I’ll cover it and I think they would understand but if you’re not ready for that step it’s okay, I can wait” 

You took a moment to think about her idea, you wanted nothing more to be able to spend more time with your girlfriend, especially after being away from her for so long but the guilt of leaving your roommates so suddenly dawned on you. “I would love too but I really, really don’t want to be a burden on you just because I’ve had a few lousy days” 

Natasha, walking towards you reached out to hold your hand, “it’s not a burden to spend your life with somebody you care about. Change can be scary, but we all need it. Peter and Kate can find another roommate if they want, they’ll be okay. I really just want to share everything moment with you” she says, looking into your eyes while silence filled the room for you to think a little more. 

“I guess I could talk to Kate and Peter tomorrow” 

“That’s my little Spidey” Natasha smiles, “now you’ll be able to hear me complain about my cooking every night” she adds with a playful wink causing you to chuckle once more. 

“Don’t worry Romanoff, I won’t let you burn the house down” you reply as she wraps her arms around you once more, “oh come on, the kitchen caught on fire once” she says, rolling her eyes. 

“Once is more than enough” you smile before her lips find yours again.

Taglist:  @boredandneedfanfics | @music-4ever | @karmasgxrl | @milkeeteaa | @marvelwomen-simp | @swaqcenix | @mostlymarvelsstuff | @scarlettbitchx | @mallyka-blog | @itsalwaysskorpioszn | @angel68104 | @x-natsarrownecklace-x | @caporal-nino | @natashamaximoff-69 | @evilcr0ne | @boredandneedfanfics | @teganmiller | @ihavezeroclue13 | @tobiaslut | @anonwhowrites | @itsmelulu | @koinsss | @cigarsandscotchallday | @nuianced-tck-enby | @springsheep | @prentgarcialuvr | @stayevildarling | @mommysgoodlittlebrat | @marvelnatasha12346 | @mrromanoff | @starryskiesandboys | 

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[ellecdc]

saw the blurbs rq post and immediately need

“i never knew i could feel this loved.”

w barty 🙏🙏🙏🙏

ugh friggen barty - I’ve missed him! Also sorry if it’s not too good, I wrote it on my phone. That means I also have no idea how long it is!! Thanks for the prompt 🫶

Barty Crouch Junior x Potter!reader who are at the manor over the school break

CW: touch starved barty (don’t worry, he gets touched), talking about grounding exercises, fluff

The school matron always told Barty to recite the “grounding lists” to help when things got to be too much.

What a load of rubbish. Who in the hells can recite 5 things they can see, 4 things they can hear, 3 things they can feel, 2 things they can smell, and 1 thing they can taste when they’re having a bloody fucking meltdown?

Not him, that’s for damn sure.

The only time Barty could imagine being able to do that was when he was already grounded.

Like now.

From his position on the sofa, laying on his stomach and situated between your legs with his face on your stomach, he could:

See

The plush, red velvet loveseat of the living room in your family home

The great expanse of pictures that hung along the walls of your living room

The half empty bowl of crisps the two of you had been sharing as you watched a movie

The throw blanket in a heap on the floor that the two of you kicked off of your intertwined forms

And the muggle tell-a-vision that was stuck on some fuzzy popcorn type screen because the two of you were too lazy to turn it off now that the movie was over

Hear

The low, staticky popcorn sound that the telly was making

The sound of your heart beat; so full of love that Barty swore it beat louder than anyone else’s

The distant sound of your parents laughing and conversing somewhere else in the manor

The sound of his thumb brushing over the space where the sleeve of your jumper gave way to the skin of your wrist

Feel

The rise and fall of your chest with every breath that you took

The fabric of the cashmere jumper he bought for you under his cheek

The warmth of your hand where it rested in his hair

Smell

The cinnamon and nutmeg candle you lit before the movie

The unmistakeable smell of you that Barty could never get enough of

And as he ran his tongue over his lips, he could still taste you from when you’d pressed a kiss to his lips before getting comfortable.

“Barty?” You whispered as though you weren’t sure he was still awake.

“Yes, my beautiful darling angel?”

You were quiet for a moment, and Barty could tell you were smiling to yourself.

“What are you thinking about?”

He lifted his head to rest his chin on your stomach so he could look at you; your hair was rather rumpled from the throw pillows, your eyes were clearly more than a little heavy, and Barty was sure that if you were alone, you’d probably be asleep by now. But you seemed to be putting 100% of your energy and effort into the loving gaze you were shooting at him, and Barty wondered - not for the first time - what in the hells he ever did to deserve you.

“I never knew I could feel this loved.” He admitted.

You froze for a moment; the breath you were in the middle of taking paused on its way out as your brows furrowed minutely before you expertly schooled your expression.

“Yeah?”

Barty hummed in agreement and pressed a kiss to your sternum.

“That’s funny,” you said as he lowered his cheek back onto your stomach, “I was just thinking the same thing.”

[c4teyezz]

my fav jjk men with babies lol

༶•┈┈┈┈┈୨

my fav jjk men x afab!reader

i kept the baby gender neutral for yall in case, i dont want ppl coming to me like “nO hE wOulD dEfinEtly hAve a-“ shut.

note: on nanamis part it mentions reader being pregnant 🤰

characters: gojo saturo, geto suguru, sukuna ryomen, higuruma hiromi, nanami kento, kusakabe atsuya, toji fushiguro

༶•┈┈┈┈┈୨

Gojo Saturo

- spoils the baby 24/7 and the things the baby has are the best of the best, the price doesnt matter to him

- idk why but he likes taking a big whiff of the babies hair then going like “ahhhh!” after and then kissing their scalp

“look babe i just bought some new clothes for our little one” gojo said smiling up at you as you entered the room. gojo is sitting on the foam rug thing with the baby laying down on it

gojo held up the baby carefully while supporting their neck at the same time to show you their fit. “thats so cute!” you responded then sitting down with him, you look at the tags that gojo ripped out from the clothes “saturo what did i say abt rubbish- $200!? WE SHOULD BE USING THAT MONEY FOR THEIR FOOD”

Geto Suguru

- i feel like hes gonna be a fairly strict but not too strict of a father

- he loveeessss wrapping them up in his robes, hugging/carrying them around like that wherever he goes in the house

“ah-! let go of my hair!” suguru demanded but not doing anything to stop it, the baby just giggles at their fathers reaction not knowing that their lowkey hurting their dad bc obviously theyre just a baby…

you take a quick pic of the sight thats in front of you, giggling along with your baby

“damn this thing is strong!” he said

“dont call your kid a thing!”

Sukuna Ryomen

- he mostly watches you take care of “the brat” he calls them, but is willing to help as long as you give him clear instructions on what the hell hes supposed to do with “it”

- i can see him holding his kid upside down with their legs when theyre like 6 or something and sometimes he drops them on purpose before quickly and successfully catching them, he has no intentions of hurting them, hes mostly doing it to fuck with you. i mean he made the kid laugh so lol

“what the fuck its crying” he pointed out to you as you rock the baby gently in your arms

“yeah i can see that… and stop calling them ‘it’, theyre not some sort of rare space specimen”

Higuruma Hiromi

- even tho in the manga hes portrayed as the classic “no humor, cold, tired man in a suit” kind of guy, i honestly dont think hes just that, hes just like that in professional settings and when things are serious. i can see him make light jokes, like he did with itadori, so he’d definitely do the same with his baby

- he likes gently scratching the babys back, as he knows its relaxing i mean who doesnt like a good scratch on the back sometimes. he doesnt mind when the baby starts fiddling with his tie, but when the baby chews on if he definitely gets a bit grossed out

“bah!” hiromi jokingly surprised the baby which made the baby flinch and cry at their father, hiromi laughed at the baby’s raction “sorry” Hiromi gently apologised while smiling at them, then went back to scare them one more time by covering his face then quickly uncovering his face “boo!”

this time the baby laughed with their father and you recorded the fun moment

(this is also inspired by a reel i saw on instagram, it was so cute 😭)

Nanami Kento

- HANDS DOWN THE BEST FATHER DUH WTF??? do we even have to argue???? since the baby hes been cutting his alcohol drinking as he doesnt want the baby’s sensitive lungs to suffer from the smell. he also lovessssss skin to skin, when the baby popped out and it was his turn to hold the baby in his bare chest, he was over the moonnnnn

- ngl he would mostly take care of the baby more than you, his excuse is since you carried the baby for 9 months, so its his job to support and deal with the baby most of the time mwah mwah

you stare at him feeding your baby their bottle, whose also safely tucked in his loving arms

“kento can i feed them now?” you asked him

“go rest honey, you deserve it” he responded, kissing you on the forehead

“thats my baby youre hogging!”

Kusakabe atsuya

- omg he likes making the baby dance, the baby cant walk yet, so he’d hold them up and make them look like theyre dancing by making them look like their doing that default baby dance toddlers do or gently swing them side to side

- loves placing them on his chest as they sleep as he fiddles with their tiny hand. also he strictly calls them by their shorter version of their name or a random nickname that suits them

“mmph! stop trying to grab my lolly!” atsuya told the baby as it tried reaching for it, eventually the baby caught the stick of the lollipop and forced it out of their dads mouth and putting it into theirs

“hehe gross”

fushiguro toji

- he plays with them by making them pretend that theyre boxing with their hands

- naps naps napsssssss, he always puts them on his chest so that they can nap together on the couch. but sometimes when toji snores, he lets out a loud snore which scares the baby into waking up crying lmfaoooooooo

“hell nah”

“toji just wipe their ass already, im trying to show you how change their diaper”

“fucking hell…” toji muttered as he slowly lifts the baby by their legs

okay maybe hes not the best when it comes to helping sometimes, but at least hes willing to try

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maayong gabii lahat!!! (good evening everyone!!!)

hehe i just wanna say thank you guys for the likes, reblogs, comments, and followers so far :))))

damo nga salamatttt (thank you so muchhhh)

[silent-stories]

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒

Pairing: Eddie x GN!Reader

Summary: Eddie's father didn't react well when Eddie accidentally dropped a bottle on the ground and years later, he still expects a violent reaction to an incident like this.

Warnings: violence (eddie gets beaten by his dad), blood, angst, fluff.

Eddie slowly opened his bedroom door, careful not to make too much noise and looked around, trying to identify the figure of the man who had returned home about an hour before, around three in the morning.

Probably, it was not a suitable time for a father of a seven-year-old boy and husband of a dying woman in hospital to come back home, even Eddie understood that.

He used to come back home late and drunk when his mother was still with them and he didn't stop doing it even when she got sick.

The blue socks on Eddie's feet cushioned the few steps he took forward, in the dark. His sleepy gaze, due to the late hour, scanned the room as he brushed aside a curl that had fallen over his eyes with his small, thin fingers.

His hair was getting too long again, he knew his father would soon order him to cut it.

The man's snores were guttural, punctuated by occasional coughs that rattled the room. The bottle lay discarded on the floor, its contents drained, a silent witness to the nightly ritual.

The television flickered in the corner, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Eddie’s mother’s favorite show played—a distraction from the harsh reality outside. But she wasn’t there to watch it anymore.

Eddie knew that when his father woke up in the morning, he wouldn't remember the bottle of whiskey left at his feet and would most likely drop it when he got up.

Only a few weeks earlier it had happened and Al had blamed it on the boy, saying that when he saw the bottle, the kid should have picked it up and thrown it in the trash when he was sleeping.

Eddie walked over to the couch where his father lay and grabbed the bottle in his hands. It was sticky and had a smell that the boy had found nauseating at the time.

He headed towards the kitchen, thinking whether he should leave it on the table, throw it in the bin with the remnants of the reheated pizza he had eaten for dinner, or go out and throw it in the rubbish bin on the street in front of the house.

The TV program came to an end and the screen went black for a few seconds, plunging the room into total darkness.

Eddie was sure that chair was a few steps ahead, he could have sworn it.

Probably, he should have waited for the light on the screen to return before taking any more steps.

His body hit the chair. The bottle slipped from his hands.

The glass shattered into a thousand pieces, emitting a deafening sound in the silence of the night and the man who was previously sleeping thoughtfully woke up with a start.

"What the hell..."

The child's eyes filled with tears even before his father reached him, staggering.

"What the hell did you do!?" The man barked, his deep voice seeming capable of shaking all the doors in the house.

"I'm sorry! I just wanted to throw away the bottle and I didn't-"

The man's fist came in contact with Eddie's face before he could finish his sentence.

The boy stumbled back, leaning against the wall behind him to keep himself from falling on the ground.

A terrible pain spread across one side of his face and he felt something warm dripping from his nose, the blood mixed with tears that he couldn't hold back.

“You never do anythin' right.” His father spat out.

Eddie sniffed, his lower lip trembling as he spoke. "I'm sorry, I-"

"Shut up!" Al shouted from a few inches away from the child's tear-stained face.

Eddie closed his eyes and held his breath, waiting for a second shot that didn't come. A sob escaped his lips and the fear that another punch would come soon didn't go away.

“Look at you,” Al chuckled, “weepin' like a girl.”

"I-I'm sorry-"

“You keep fucking sayin' that but you're doing nothin' to fix your mess!” The father shouted, grabbing the kid by the shoulder, with a grip too firm that would surely have left a bruise, pushing him towards the place where the bottle had fallen.

"Clean up." Al ordered.

Eddie nodded, knowing his voice wouldn't come out the way he wanted it to.

The silence received in response only further angered the man who, after reaching the child again, grabbed his face with one hand, squeezing it between his fingers.

"What is wrong with you? I said fucking clean up."

"Yes- sir." The boy sobbed.

Al released him with one last push, gave him one last look before heading towards his bedroom while the boy tried not to step on the pieces of glass around the room, which would easily pierce his old socks.

"Useless, fucking useless" Eddie heard his father say, "He can never do anything fucking right."

Finally, he closed the door of his room behind him and, only after Eddie heard the sound of his snoring reaching all the way to the kitchen, he started sobbing like he had never done in his life.

He spent the last hours of the night and early morning cleaning the pieces of bottles from the floor- cutting his hands two or three times in the process- and wiping away the drops of blood that his nose had left there.

He went to bed when the sun was already up, his hands had been bandaged as best he could and his nose had finally stopped bleeding.

The sound of the bottle shattering and his father's shouts seemed to haunt him even during his sleep.

That was the case for several days.

The memory of that night has never been erased. Not even thirteen years later.

"Eddie, we didn't buy any basil!" You exclaimed, looking up from the open recipe book on the table. “I knew we forgot something!”

The kitchen was warm, the aroma of simmering tomato sauce filling the air as Eddie stood by the counter, his hands dicing onions.

You were surprised that he hadn't cut any of his fingers yet and that he seemed to be putting all his effort into the task you assigned him.

"I have all kinds at home, if you really wanna add some... herbs."

You threw a rag at his head, making him laugh under the fabric.

"Hey!" He complained.

"What does "hey" mean? You wanted to put fucking drugs in my sauce!"

"“I thought that was our sauce.” He smirked.

You laughed at the way he said it, as if he was actually offended and hadn't spent the last hour laughing even though he was chopping onions.

“It depends, are you done with those?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. "All yours, my lady."

When he turned around, his elbow accidentally hit the glass bottle of olive oil, making it crash onto the tiled floor.

You never do anything right

Shards scattered like stars, reflecting the dim light.

After the sudden deafening noise caused by the bottle, the room seemed almost too quiet. He felt your gaze on him, but he didn't dare meet your eyes.

His heart raced, memories of that childhood night flooding back. His father’s rage, the jagged edges of broken glass, and the fear that had etched itself into his soul. Eddie clenched his fists, berating himself for his clumsiness.

His hands shook, the tremors echoing the chaos within. The room seemed to close in, the walls pressing against him. He suddenly felt like couldn’t breathe.

“Shit,” he muttered, his voice barely audible, "I'm sorry."

You keep fucking saying that but you're doing nothing to fix your mess.

He knew you weren't like him, not even remotely. He knew that he was no longer with him, that he was far away, that he couldn't hurt him.

What is wrong with you?

Despite this, he held his breath for a moment without even realizing it, as if he expected you to yell at him, to insult him, to tell him that he was no good at anything.

Useless, fucking useless.

"Shit, I have to clean up." He breathed, ducking ready to grab the pieces of glass with his hands.

He didn't even notice when you knelt in front of him, almost without making any noise.

Your touch was gentle as your hand met his, preventing him from grabbing the glass pieces.

"Hey. You're gonna cut yourself."

Your voice was calm and sweet, your tone almost sounded like one someone would use with a scared animal.

You weren't mad at him. You knew something was wrong with his reaction, and you weren't mad at him.

"But-"

“It’s okay,” you said softly. “Just a bottle.”

Your thumb ran over the back of his hand, drawing a couple of circles.

Eddie thought he might burst into tears right there in the middle of the kitchen covered in bottle pieces.

He expected anger, frustration, maybe even a shout. Instead, you reached for a dustpan, your hand never leaving his. Together, you swept up some of the shards, the silence broken only by the soft clink of glass. Eddie’s breaths steadied, and he realized that maybe, it was going to be okay.

His words stuttered when he spoke, still caught between vulnerability and fear. “You’re not mad?” he asked, his voice raw.

“No,” you replied, you gaze steady, still soft as ever. “I’m not mad and I have no reason to be. I don't know what was going through your head and I'll be here if you ever want to tell me, but really, it's just a bottle for me. It's okay. We’ll clean this up together.”

Your smile has always been one of the most beautiful sights for Eddie and in that situation even more so, if possible.

He couldn't help but gently push you against him and leave a light kiss on your forehead, without saying a single word. Now he knew you understood him even without them.

In your small kitchen covered in broken glass, Eddie realized that it was impossible to erase certain bad memories but that, if you gave him the opportunity, he would spend the rest of his life creating new ones with you.

When you finished cleaning and the sun went down, neither of you really cared that you hadn't finished cooking.

When you went to bed, Eddie held you a little tighter than usual.

His dad was no longer part of his life.

You were. And you loved him.

Eddie didn't need anything else.

A "thank you" was whispered during the night.

Tags: @jacklesbrainworms @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat @michaelfuckinglangdon @flawiette @needylilgal022 @bubsonnobx @yujyujj @findmeincorneliastreet @kennedy-brooke @witchwolflea

[firewalkzwit]

chemical world || simon / john q. x reader (dinner in america)

just a blurb because im up the ass with school and the one-shot i wrote was rubbish sorry. "x reader" might be a stretch its just hqs and stuff i think of simon with song sneaks in the middle coz when do i not

Chemical World - Blur

Simon of extreme hedonistic beliefs above all prioritises nothing other than pleasure, and takes pride in the aesthetic disruption this signifies. Having a shower around won't be enough to pinch his personal hygiene urges, even if it is for the sake of others. He'll bathe if he can and if he wants to.

This obviously extends to his deliberately controversial haircut. It amuses him to watch the discomfort and confusion it creates in those who see him. It's neither a mullet nor a mohawk (matter of fact, he despises either of the groups who wear such hairstyles), but rather his own third thing.

Obviously he's slightly taken aback when you fancy him for it. Not that it has ever prevented him from getting laid (he would have eventually buzzed it if it did), but the occasional compliments and caresses on his greasy hair from your tender hands never fail to remind him that he too is just a mere mortal beneath things like female affection.

Saints - The Breeders

He praises womanhood just as much as he teases it. There is an adolescent air in the way he speaks derogatorily about your mother, or even when he gets turned on out of insulting you in bed. Still, slurs that come and go only wind up humiliating him when he kneels before you, eyes wide open and hungry.

He's very versatile in that department, he'll take any place in bed as long you ask. Nothing is more arousing than your gratitude. He won't be picky about how you express it, but he has favourites; the scratching of nails in a useless attempt of grabbing the wall makes him feel like he really did his job well.

I Am the Resurrection - The Stone Roses

Not having to be functional to work timings or tedious 9 to 5-s allows Simon to have an ample disposition to, what he calls, "fuck around" any day, anytime. Although he resents the fact that you occasionally choose your adult responsibilities above him, he'll hardly hold you to it for too long. Instead, decompression is highly recreational and experimental. A wide range of psychedelics, psychotropics, psycholeptics... all to be found in some dubious corner of his backpack.

Frankly, open-mindedness is one of the few must-have traits to date him. He wont tolerate uptight or rigorous personalities. This does not imply that it was ever a requirement for you to be an avid drug consumer, but he'll take no reprimands if he chooses to pop a Percocet.

Simon's open-mindedness policy is fairly restricted when it comes to music. Not that he only listens to one genre, as his enthusiasm for punk has inevitably derived in enjoying all of those that influenced or derivate from it, but he believes most are acquired tastes. Sonic Youth, Dinosaur Jr., Melvins and Fugazi sit around in his record collection.

He loves it when you ask about his records, and far from judging you if you ever don't know, he'll sit down on the floor with his back rested against the bed and his records in hand. Encyclopedic narrations of the socio-cultural context of the origin of most of his favourite bands could be biography-worth if it weren't for all the "fuck"s between them.

"Fuckin' Christ, Pink Flag? That fuckin' invented post-punk. Would I care for that shit if it didn't? Probably not, but because of fuckin' Wire now I have to give a fuck about these snobby fucks from Bauhaus and the idiots in PiL."

Strange - Galaxie 500

The record player in your room is mostly crowded around by his own collection, which was homeless up until recently. There's many things Simon likes about you, but taking in his records was to him what to others is a ring on their finger.

In a relationship with someone who thinks music is sacred, you cannot miss his gigs, they are mass. He loves to parade you around backstage to his bandmates and sing to you when they play, loves that you take your friends with you; so they can see you seeing him. Nothing makes him feel more desired than spotting you in the crowd mouthing his lyrics.

Post-shows getting wrecked in a local bar until they kick you out is his favourite thing to do, but he'll take backseat sex if he sees you're in the mood for it, subtly letting everyone know as he guides you holding you by the wrist. On colder seasons, the night dew will curtain the windows of the pick-up truck he borrows just in hopes that you'll give him the special look, inviting him for a quickie before heading home letting you pick the radio station.

Just Like Honey - The Jesus and Mary Chain

[watermelonlovershigh]

A Week in the Life with a Broken Foot {part. 17} (housemate!harry series) (FLUFF/SMUT)

A Trip to the ER {part. 16} (housemate!harry series)

AN: i'm really sorry this took so long. this is the longest chapter yet in this series and combine that and the passing of liam, it took longer than i intended. anyways, hope you enjoy and please leave your feedback. next chapter is gonna be very smutty.

This story contains: broken foot obviously, crying, fingering of vagina, brief implications of somnophilia, handjob, attempting sex (but failed), fluff, comfort

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

word count- 4,764

After breaking your foot on Monday, the first week of your recovery has its ups and downs, but Harry is with you every step of the way.

Harry has been an absolute saint ever since you broke your foot in the shower. When you arrived home Monday evening with a fresh cast on your foot, Harry carried you inside and sat you on the comfy sofa. You asked him when you were gonna have to use your crutches, but he said not very often when he's around. Meaning, he'll carry you wherever you need to go within the house. When you go out in public or when he's just not home, you may have to use your crutches on those occasions and he'll eventually teach you how to use them properly.

Having ensured that you were comfortable on the couch, Harry quickly went to change out of his work clothes, which he hadn't had the chance to change yet since leaving work earlier in the day. After changing his clothes, he went to the kitchen to find a small snack for you to eat until dinner was ready. Although you weren't particularly hungry, he explained that it was essential to eat something with the pain medication you had taken in the car to prevent an upset stomach.

While you munched on some cheese crackers with your foot propped up on a pillow, Pixie resting in your lap, and the tv on some rubbish reality show, Harry started making dinner for the both of you. He had to admit that, after a day filled with adrenaline, he wasn't particularly hungry himself. Still, he recognized the importance of eating something light before going to bed. Plus, any leftovers would be great for the next day when he might not be in the mood to prepare a meal.

Harry decided to prepare your favorite, chicken alfredo. You had gathered all the ingredients during your grocery shopping trip last week, which meant he could whip it up in no time. While cooking, he often glanced into the living room to ensure you were still okay. You eventually had to tell him that you appreciated his concern but would let him know if you needed any assistance. His attentiveness was becoming somewhat overbearing.

After dinner was completed, he prepared two plates and took them to the living room. Harry thought it would be far more practical for you to stay on the couch instead of trying to eat at the table with your large cast, and he was indeed right. Whenever your foot touched the floor, a jolt of pain traveled up your leg. You found yourself wondering how you'll cope when Harry leaves for work each day.

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

As the night drew to a close and you finished your meal, Harry offered his assistance in helping you bathe before he entered the shower himself. Since your cast couldn't get wet, you sat on the closed toilet seat while he carefully washed your skin with a soapy cloth. He made every effort to rinse you off adequately from your position and dried you before helping you change into your sleepwear. Although he planned to carry you to bed before showering himself, you insisted on staying in the bathroom with him.

"You just want to see me naked!" Harry said as a snarky remark.

As he entered the shower, white bum facing you, you replied sarcastically, "No, I just don't want to be alone, but also..... maybe I enjoy the view of my naked housemate."

"Boyfriend!" Harry shouted from behind the opaque shower curtain, taken offence that you called him your housemate. Though you once were just housemates, you were well beyond that title now.

Harry finished his shower while you remained on the toilet, waiting with patience. You may have occasionally glanced at him as he washes his body, unable to help yourself due to how attractive he was. As he exited the shower, you watched as he dried off and slipped into a fresh pair of black briefs.

After completing that, you allowed Harry to carry you to bed for the night. He selected your room because, if you needed to use the bathroom during the night, it's conveniently located straight across the hall. In contrast, his room is next to the bathroom but requires a left turn, which could lead to a higher chance of you accidentally hitting your foot on the doorframe or wall.

When you were finally able to lie down for the night, you realized the discomfort that would accompany you trying to sleep with a hard, thick, cast on your foot and leg. Typically, you and Harry would cuddle throughout the night, but the cast presented certain challenges with that routine. On a brighter note, you realized that he could still spoon you, which was a positive.

Harry's gentle fingers glided through your hair, lulling you into a state of sleep. Yet, this night proved to be different; instead of the typical few hours of continuous rest, the pain in your foot, coupled with the discomfort of the cast, caused you to awaken every hour. Each time, the soothing sounds of Harry's soft breathing helped you return to sleep, until you awoke again, then repeat.

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

On Tuesday morning, Harry was up before you. Being aware of your lack of sleep the night prior, he allowed you to rest for as long as possible while he quietly got out of bed to take care of some business. After using the toilet and brushing his teeth, he went to the kitchen to start brewing coffee, followed by calling the school where he teaches at.

The headteacher (principal) answered the phone with a cheery tone, introducing himself and the schools name, not knowing it was Harry that was calling.

"Hi, Mr. Clarke, this is Harry Styles, a teacher there at ******* School. Yesterday I had to leave early because my girlfriend fell and broke her foot. Well she'll need someone to care for her for at least the first week of her recovery. So I was callin' to let you know I'll need to be out for a few days. I can stop by to give my substitute teacher instructions on what to do in my classroom if you'd like."

"Oh, hi, Harry!" Mr. Clarke spoke when he recognized one of his favorite teachers voices, "I'm sorry to hear that about your girlfriend. And yes, I'm sure we can figure something out with your class. Can you be here around eight? That'll give me an hour to find you a sub for the week and you can instruct them on what to do before your class arrives this morning."

Checking the clock on the stove, Harry replied, "Absolutely, eight sounds perfect. I'll see you then, Mr. Clarke." Following the conclusion of the call, he went about getting dressed for the quick trip to the school. His choice of clothing was not as formal as it would typically be for a teaching day, but it also didn't consist of his usual home attire, which included sweatpants and a t-shirt. Or just briefs if he's particularly hot.

After getting dressed in his own room, Harry decided to stop by your room across the hall prior to leaving and check on you. As he stepped into your bedroom, he noticed you sitting up in bed with a serious frown on your face and tears brimming your eyes. It dawned on Harry that you likely thought he was heading off to work for an ordinary full day.

"Don't want you to leave me." you muttered in a sad tone. You've yet to use your crutches and the idea of falling again while you're by yourself terrified you. Especially if your phone wasn't near.

Harry rounded the bed and gently sat beside you. "Baby, m'not goin' to work my normal shift today. M' just goin' to meet the substitute they're puttin' in my class for the week. Tellin' 'em what to do and all that. I'll be gone no longer then an hour, promise. Just keep your phone on you in case you need to call me for whatever reason."

"Wait, you called out of work? For me?"

Smiling gently, Harry cooed, "Well yeah, of course. You'll need someone to care for you for at least the first week. So m' gonna be out for about a week to stay home and take care of you. Until you can navigate somewhat on your own with that cast on your foot."

Tears welled up in your eyes again at his kindness. "I love you, Harry."

Harry giggled at your sweet confession before he leaned in to peck a kiss on your lips and responded back, "I love you too, Y/n. Do you need anythin' before I leave?"

"Yeah, can you carry me to the bathroom, please? Then take me to the living room to watch tv until you get back. And maybe.... um, give me one of my pain pills. My foot is killing me again." Harry nodded his head and carefully lifted you out of bed to bring you to the bathroom. While you sat on the toilet doing your business, he gave you privacy by getting the couch set up and placed a pill and a glass of water on the coffee table.

You ensured that you flushed the toilet before summoning Harry back into the bathroom to assist you in migrating to the living room. Once you were comfortably positioned on the cushions, with your foot elevated as per the doctor's orders, you took the pain medication. Harry offered you a granola bar to consume alongside your medicine. He then kissed you gently before departing, assuring you that he'd return soon.

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

The remainder of Tuesday was relatively uneventful. You felt a growing sense of boredom from being cooped up indoors all day, but the recurring pain in your foot, which returned every few hours, made you reluctant to stray too far from home. Harry arrived back from school roughly an hour after he had left, just as he had promised. With it being a rainy day in London, he pulled the curtains shut and settled on the the couch next to you. You found a new series on Netflix and ultimately binge-watched the entire show by midnight.

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

On Wednesday, a noticeable shift occurred. Although it wasn't necessarily bad, it was certainly an unfortunate development in your healing process. The shift in question? You found yourself becoming horny for the first time since your accident. Awakening to a throbbing sensation between your legs and you spent the first part of the day attempting to overlook it. In your efforts to ignore your horniness, you became more irritable, prompting Harry to believe that your mood was merely a result of the pain in your foot resurfacing.

When he asked what you wanted for breakfast, your initial thought was to say him. However, you chose to say oatmeal with fresh berries instead, all the while wearing a deep frown. After your meal, Harry wanted to know what you wished to do next. You considered saying something related to sex, but ultimately opted for watching another movie. The desire to alleviate the ache you felt between your legs was so strong, yet you were nervous about trying anything with your giant cast on, knowing it'll be in the way. Plus, you were afraid your cast might turn Harry off.

Mid afternoon is when Harry finally spoke up. For the past couple of hours he'd watched you toss and turn in your spot on the couch. He'd already asked several times if your foot was bothering you and you'd said no. So now he was genuinely confused as to why you couldn't keep still. "Baby, what's wrong? You sure it's not your foot? I can give you one last dose of your medicine tonight if you need some."

Exhaling in frustration, you came to the conclusion that it was finally time to confess, "Fine, I'm horny, Harry. That's why I keep fidgeting. I've felt this way since we woke up this morning." Your blatant honesty offers him comfort, knowing that your situation is one that he can easily fix.

Harry cackled out a loud laugh, startling Pixie who was sleeping on the arm of the couch. "Really? You've been actin' this way because you're horny? Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I just.... not that I'm embarrassed to tell you I'm horny but um, I guess I'm just nervous to do anything with my cast on. I know you said there's many options that aren't actual sex but still..."

Harry turned serious now, seeing how you're actually nervous to get physical since your accident. But you shouldn't worry too much because he has a plan. "Alright, slide your shorts and panties down and spread your legs f'me."

"Hm, what?" you asked, confused on what he was planning to do. Maybe he was gonna eat you out. You'd never be opposed to that.

"Just do as I said." You compiled by lowering your shorts and underwear, which formed a small pile on the floor next to the couch. Harry helped you by gently spreading your legs while you remained seated upright. Your injured foot was elevated on the coffee table, and your other leg rested over his lap. Just as you were about to ask how he would proceed in this position, you were interrupted by the feeling of his hand making contact with your pussy instead.

"Ohh!" you inhaled sharply as his calloused fingers started to make circular motions on your needy clit. He then moved his fingers downward, parting your lower lips and allowing your wetness to serve as a natural lubricant before returning to your clit. The pleasure was overwhelming, as it had been a long day of longing for this very touch.

Harry gave your clit a break for a moment and decided to wedge his middle and ring finger inside your pulsing hole. The thickness of his fingers caused you to throw your head back on the couch and moan loudly as he basically started to finger fuck you. His fingers drove all the way in, then pulled out just to his fingertips before repeating. His palm patted against your clit with each thrust, also giving that attention in a non direct way. You're sure the way Harry had his wrist turned to finger fuck you was uncomfortable for him, but you couldn't care less. All you knew was he was making you feel so good.

Squelching sounds begun to echo in the living room from how wet you were, and that sound alone turned you on even more than you already were. Harry begun curling his fingers up and gently stroking your g-spot, which had you nearly jumping off the couch. The only thing that stopped you was your big ass cast wrapped around your foot and lower leg. "Oh, right there, right there, Harry!"

Grinning, Harry asked, already knowing the answer, "Yeah, that feel good, baby? M' I makin' your pussy feel good? Hm?"

You reached down and grabbed onto his wrist, helping him finger fuck you harder, but also to help you stay grounded. "Yes, fuck yes! Feels so good. I'm about to come."

While staying sat beside you, Harry continued to fuck you with his fingers while he purposely grinded his palm into your clit for added pleasure. That's what sent you over the edge. Just seconds later, you came so hard that Harry thought you might cut his fingers off with how hard you were clamping down on them. He continued to curl his fingers up, stroking your g-spot, and stimulating your clit with his palm, until you couldn't take it anymore and forced his hand away. You were left panting, trying to come back to earth after having been elevated in the clouds for so long.

"Better?" Harry questioned curiously, referring to your horniness.

Still catching your breath, you nodded, "So much better."

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

When Thursday morning came, you opened your eyes and felt some subtle pressure prodding against your thighs. Struggling slightly due to your cast, you shifted in bed and peeked under the covers, discovering that the object you felt poking you was Harry's morning wood. He seemed to be in a deep sleep, but you still wanted to help him out. Despite your physical constraints, you felt a strong urge to return the favor since he helped you out the day before.

Lying on your back, you reached out and gradually trailed your hand down Harry's soft tummy until it was met with the bulge in his briefs. You wouldn't have proceeded without prior consent; however, you and Harry have previously discussed your boundaries regarding sexual matters. Both of you agreed that it's okay to engage with one another while the other is asleep, knowing that neither would remain in a deep sleep for too long once the activities commenced. Therefore, it's not like you'd be completely unaware while the other person did as they pleased.

Your hand inched down and you proceeded to cup your hand over his hard cock, giving subtle pressure to help ease the discomfort you're sure Harry was in. You moved your hand in a gentle back-and-forth motion across the front of his briefs, observing as Harry slowly came to consciousness. The sensation that fully awoke him was your hand slipping into the elastic of his underwear, your hand making direct contact with his erection.

Harry jolted awake, momentarily taken aback by your touch, but quickly settled as you began to pump his cock in your hand. He raised the blankets to catch a glimpse of your actions. The sight of you jerking him off made his back arch off the mattress, his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. "Baby!"

"Does it feel good, Harry? Felt your boner against my thigh when I woke up and wanted to help you out."

Harry turned his head on the pillow to look at you. Through gritted teeth, he remarked in a slurred voice, "It feels amazin', m'love. Didn't 'ave to though. Would've been fine without this." Even while being pleasured, Harry's concerned about your well-being.

"Shush and let me make you feel good. Know we can't have sex right now but I hope this will do the trick." You retracted your hand to apply some saliva for lubrication, and while doing so, Harry removed his briefs and pushed the covers back. When you placed your wet hand back on his hard shaft, everything was visible now. Due to the bulkiness of your cast, you couldn't lie on your right side, but you turned your head to observe your actions and are very much aware of how your touch was affecting him. Seeings as he was falling apart from your slick strokes.

The rapid movement of your fist caused Harry's stomach to rise and fall with increasing speed, while his breathing became more ragged, accompanied by low moans that escaped from his parted mouth. This moment brought you back to the first time you gave him a handjob, when your relationship was still new and you were trying to take things slow.

You watched as precum started to seep from his flushed tip, prompting you to go faster with the movements of your hand, eager to lead him to his orgasm. Harry begun swearing, "Oh, fuck! Y/n, baby, shit! M' 'bout to come." He uttered a stream of curse words along with your name and terms of affection. You found it rather amusing to see Harry become so affected by your touch.

Abruptly, Harry's back lifted entirely from the mattress, his hands gripped the sheets tightly, toes curling, and a loud roar erupted from deep within his chest cavity. His cock pulsed in your hand before he finally came, releasing several thick streams of cum all over your hand and his stomach. Observing a man in such a raw and vulnerable state was, in your opinion, a remarkable sight, and you couldn't stop staring at him in awe.

Once the final drops of cum seeped from his sensitive tip, you carefully let go of his shaft and turned your attention to Harry's face. The tension in his facial muscles had diminished, contrasting sharply from the intensity he had shown during his orgasm, yet his eyes remained closed. His chest was still heaving, and his body trembled slightly. Given how hard Harry came, you didn't blame how his body was reacting.

After a few seconds, Harry became alert enough to speak. "Need to wake me up like that more often."

You tossed your head back with a chuckle. "We'll see, you eager boy. Let's get you cleaned up so we can eat. I'm starved." And by getting him cleaned up, you meant, he clean himself up because well, you can only do the bare - fucking - minimum in this stupid cast. You can't wait for it to be off.

Harry rose from his bed to retrieve a washcloth, intending to clean himself as well as your knuckles, which were stained with his jizz. He attended to his hygiene in the bathroom and brought a fresh cloth back to your bedroom, where he left you. Upon reaching the bed, he took your hand to wipe it clean, only to find that the cum on your fingers had vanished. "Um, where's the mess that was on your hand?"

You looked up at him, your eyelashes fluttered dramatically as you tried to come off as sweet and innocent. But when you licked your lips and softly said, "Mhm, I told you I was starving," you exuded anything but innocence. Harry might have wanted to be shocked by your act of licking his cum from your hand, but in reality, he's not. He was already aware that you have a dirty side to you.

"You nasty, nasty, girl."

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

Harry's objective for Friday was to assist you in mastering the use of your crutches for the first time. After your accident on Monday, he had taken on the responsibility of carrying you around the house, but he was only off of work for one week. Despite him being concerned about leaving you alone, he was confident that teaching you to use the crutches would allow you to be more independent. So after spending the majority of the day procrastinating, you made the decision after dinner that he could finally help you practice walking with your crutches.

With your crutches secured in his left arm, Harry reached out with his right arm to assist you in getting off the couch. "Ready?"

Upon standing from the cozy couch, you murmured, "No, but I suppose we need to get this done." You steadied yourself on one foot as Harry helped to place the crutches under your armpits. You immediately felt the discomfort they inflicted on your underarms. Although equipped with a rubber cushion, it offered hardly any relief from the pressure on your underarm bones.

Once the crutches were placed under your arms, Harry stood beside you for support and instructed, "Okay, now try and walk."

You went for the first step but was left clueless on how to even use those things. "Um, do I, how do I....?"

"Basically, move one crutch forward, followed by the other. After completin' that motion, propel your uninjured foot forward while ensurin' that your injured foot remains elevated above the floor." Although Harry's instructions were somewhat confusing, you decided to follow his advice. Your initial attempt nearly resulted in a fall, but fortunately, he was beside you for support, placing his hands on your hips. The second step you took was more successful. "See, you're gettin' better already."

As you kept practicing around the empty space in the living room and down the hall, you groaned, "Yeah, but it's so uncomfortable, under my arms and it's hard to use my strength like this."

"I know, baby. It's gonna be a bit uncomfortable, but remember it's only temporary. Soon enough, your foot will heal and you won't be in a cast anymore. Then we can actually get out the house and do things again."

You made it all the way to the back door at the end of the hall before stopping for a break. "Yeah, like that date you promised."

"Yep, the date where I'll have you in those little vibratin' panties, edgin' you all - night - long."

"Ugh, stop talking about that or you're gonna turn me on."

Harry grinned knowingly, "Who said that was a bad thing."

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

You practiced walking on your crutches a few additional times that evening before Harry helped you with your bath. In contrast to the first night after your accident, when he helped you bathe while you sat on the closed toilet, he has since used a waterproof covering for your cast, now allowing you to use the actual bath tub. Initially, you felt quite vulnerable having him take care of you like that, but as time passed, you grew more comfortable with his assistance. Plus truthfully, nothing could enhance your feeling of vulnerability more than when he walked in to see the aftermath of your slip that caused your foot injury. That was ten times worse than him casually bathing you.

After your bath and Harry's shower, you got into bed as you normally did. However, shortly after lying down, you voiced, "I wanna try having sex." The mention of that eagerly awaited date earlier in which Harry planned to tease and edge you all night, stirred your excitement, and you craved more than just hand or oral stimulation. You had not yet attempted having actual sex this week since having your cast on. Primarily because you believed it would be impossible, but then you realized you wouldn't know unless you tried.

Harry turned in bed to face you. "You sure? I don't want to hurt you."

You looked over at him and responded, "I mean, I wanna try. I don't know if it'll work or if it'll hurt, but we can see, if you want that is."

Harry agreed and begun getting you ready for sex, not knowing you were practically soaked already. He kissed and caressed your body until he made it to your panties. He had a sly grin from seeing how wet you were. Some of it was from the foreplay, but like you'd said, you'd been wet since this afternoon.

Once your panties were taken off and Harry's clothes were shed, you decided to attempt the classic missionary position, assuming it would be the easiest option. Unfortunately, that turned out to be wrong. The way Harry needed to position his knees was incompatible with the bulky cast on your leg. Each accidental bump resulted in sharp pains shooting through your foot. He wasn't even halfway in when you yelped in pain, having felt your casted leg being stretched beyond its limit.

Realizing that the current position wasn't going to work, Harry proposed, "Let's try spoonin'." He withdrew himself from your pussy and helped you lie down, positioning himself behind you. He made sure your injured foot was against the bed, rather than the foot and leg that needed to be raised over his hip. While he was able to penetrate you fully from this position, his legs kept accidentally bumping into your cast as he started thrusting, despite his attempts to avoid it, resulting in more pain in your foot.

"Ow, ow, please stop." Harry halted immediately, understanding that the discomfort was not stemming from the sex but rather from your foot, which was troubling you once more. Tears began to well up in your eyes as the realization dawned on you that sex just wasn't feasible with your cast on. "I'm sorry."

Pulling out for the second time, Harry sat up behind you and asked, "Why'r you apologizin'? Nothin' to be sorry for."

"Yeah but, I thought maybe we could have sex and obviously we can't. It's all my fault for breaking my foot."

Harry leaned down, hugging your upper body in his arms. "Shhh, it's okay. I told you the day you broke your foot, sex isn't our only option."

"I know and don't get me wrong, your fingers and mouth feel amazing, but is it so bad for a woman to miss her boyfriends cock inside her?"

Harry couldn't help but to giggle at your words. The next six weeks is gonna be hell on earth if you have to go without sex for that long. You just hoped by the end of it all, when you finally get to have sex again, it'll be ten times better after being deprived for so long.

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

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