#bad couch sitting habits

[possum-tooth]

seeing a lot of breakup things when my bf and i havent talked in over an hour <3

[uitzinnigmp3]

need to stop fucking staying in bed until 1pm

[falseroar]

Walking from the building where I work to my car with my keys in my hand today and realized I would Not Do Well in a horror situation because I know my first instinct on being attacked would be to throw my keys in the monster/serial killer/demon or whatever's face, and then what?

I mean, there's plenty of other reasons I would not survive a horror movie, but the siren call to just throw my keys away is one of them.

[sweetnans]

Katsuki is wide. He had grown a lot physically and mentally, but this time, we are going to focus on the physical part.

Bakugo Katsuki is the king of manspreading. He manspread in the common couch, he manspread in the train seat, he manspread even in bed. Unconsciously in his sleep. He can't help it. He is a big boy.

It's UA annual camp. There's cabins for boys and for girls. The cabins have only two beds each, so the students of class 3A and 3B are set in pairs.

You had a bad dream, and obviously, your first thought is going to Katsuki to find some comfort. It's pure instinct. You know his roommate is Kirishima, and he won't mind having you there to spend the rest of the night. Sleepovers between the three of you are something very usual.

It's almost 2 am. when you knock the boys door and then slowly twist the handle when no one responds to you. There's darkness everywhere, so you have to use your phone flashlight to find Katsuki's bed, when you find it you know it's going to be a hard work.

"Babe," you whisper. "Wake up, make room to me"

He is spread like a starfish. The duvet is falling on one side, and the blankets are rolled up at the end of the bed.

You look at Kirishima for support, and he's sleeping wrapped up like a burrito. The difference between the two of them is kinda fun.

"Katsuki," you try again. Thank god it's almost summer because standing there while freezing it was not an available option for you. "Baby, please," you murmur.

"Bakubro" Kirishima stirs awake for a moment and then fall asleep again.

Miraculously, he rolls to the other side and leaves you a tiny space to curl up against him.

Katsuki wakes up in the morning to an empty bed. He's confused. He swears he heard you coming last night, and he is almost sure you spend the night with him. When he sees you having breakfast on your own, he's quick enough to sit by your side, Kirishima joining you two after a mere second.

"I thought you were with me in bed last night." he doesn't say good morning or how do you sleep. He goes straight to the point.

"Yeah, but you pushed me off the bed," you say, not even looking at his puzzled face. Kirishima looks at both of you and forbids himself to laugh.

You had a shitty night of sleep, so you can't help feeling a little defensive on that one.

Katsuki knows his habits of sleep very well, and he feels like a bad excuse of a boyfriend because of the notorious bags under your eyes and your obvious lack of will to be up so early in the morning.

"Next time, jump me and settle yourself on the side against the wall," he grunts, obviously annoyed to himself. You hum in response, accepting the bowl of cereal he is pushing to your side as a truce.

There won't be such a thing as next time.

Next time he would make sure to be wide awake when you come running at him because of a bad dream, of course.

Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.

[satorudoll]

Baby Gumi giving Toji the sus look when he saw the love bites on Mommy's chest

Toji forgot his baby has sharp senses for a baby and baby thought Toji ate his food or hurt Mommy lol

(im starting to feel like y'all wanna turn this acc into a toji thirst vault)

Megumi always had a habit of looking up at his dad weird, the two year old boy always found his dad weird.

So he would spend most of his time toddling towards you and taking up any free space that was available next to you.

The baby boy loved to be in your arms very much, therefore everytime he woke up to find you already waiting there for him near his crib with a warm smile he'd try to get up on his small chubby legs holding onto the rail guards of the crib then forward one of his hands to make grabby hands at you.

You spent most of the day holding the baby boy in one arm and doing every other chore in your house while your husband was out for work because Megumi absolutely refused to leave your side unless he was in a deep slumber.

But as much competent the little boy was so was his dad, Megumi enjoyed all his fun time with you until it was time for his dad to come back from work, the two year old will get all pouty and fussy as soon as he'll hear the slamming of the front door and a loud "I'm home!" followed by the literal thudding of his dad's running feet.

The baby boy's brows would knit together and his tiny button nose would scrunch in distaste as soon as his dad would pull you away from his side to engulf you in a hug and lay bunch of his dirty smooches on your face.

ew, Megumi would think.

Megumi always got annoyed at his dad for doing these stuff to his mom, believing his mom was just a very nice lady to not turn his dad down.

The little boy knew his fun time was over as soon as his dad was home. He would toddle out of his room and find you sitting alone in the couch, peacefully watching television, then he would proceed to start running towards you almost tumbling in his steps just so he can climb up and sit down next to you.

But then the tall giant will casually walk in and let his entire body fall down horizontally on the couch, immediately planting his head on your thighs as well, leaving literally no space for Megumi.

The two year old boy would pause in literal disgust and shock,

This would get the two year old so mad that he would get down to pick up his toy spoon from the floor and start smacking it on the old man's head who in return would start yelling in surprise at why his son was being such a brat while you try pulling him away from his dad.

Now Megumi thought he has seen all the worst sides of his dad, until, one morning the baby boy wakes up way too early than usual due to a nightmare. Not finding you besides his crib he immediately manages to crawl up by standing on his little pile of plushies.

Megumi was indeed a smart baby.

Tumbling towards his parent's shared bedroom he could hear some weird noises coming as he got closer,

he was sure most of it were your voices though?

But you sounded like you were in pain??

He slowly opens the door which was already a bit agape,

he really couldn't understand what was going on since he was way too small and his vision could only go up so far.

But then he hears the loud sound of what he considered to be a slap along with the rough angry voice of his dad followed by your sobs,

he cannot believe his dad was hurting you ! Oh he always believed his dad was a mad man,

He was definitely worst than the monsters under his crib !

and that's all it takes for the baby boy's bottom lips to quiver and let the loudest wail out,

He felt like that helped because through his blurry vision he sees his dad immediately spring out of the bed, murmuring a string of what you taught him were "bad words" while fumbling around for something.

Your head pops out of the covers as soon as you were done fixing your night gown but the two year old was way too busy crying and rolling fat drops of tears down his red cheeks to realize that you had taken him in your arms.

"Gumi- baby what's wrong- " you try to rock him in your arms but that didn't seem to be helping,

"you are just like me kid, all grumpy early in the morning" His dad tries casually playing it off after slumping down besides you both,

but the 'just like me' causes the baby's cries to get even worst making you pass your husband a mad glare for saying that,

Toji stares at you both offended.

"I'm sorry, mommy wasn't there this morning- Won't happen again honey! I'll play with you all day today, we wont be able to play if you keep crying!" you smile as he starts to slowly quite down at those words.

"What a good little boy" You praise, slowly caressing his head and moving his little black baby hair away from his forehead.

His pout is still on his face as his vision moves down from your face but then it stops,

while Toji was joking at you about how he deserves the 'good boy' title as well and you were busy brushing him off, you both failed to notice the little boy's growing frown as he stared at all the purple bruises around your neck and collar bones.

He feels his vision start to get blurry again and then its there again,

His mouth opens wide showing off the two new set of teeth as he starts crying bloody murder.

You gasp in panic not understanding what had happened again.

As you tried to rock him again he tried getting away from your arms and instead stretching his hand towards his dad as he continued balling his eyes out.

That confused you and Toji,

He has never chosen Toji before for comfort as long as you were there,

But Toji was a little too happy to care,

"Does my little boy wanna be with daddy??" He coos, stretching his arms out for you to hand the baby to him,

"I knew you always had a soft spot for me kiddo" he gushes as soon as he takes his baby boy in his arms.

But the happiness didn't seem to have lasted long, because as soon as Megumi gets close to his dad's face his little hands flung up to grip on the locks of his dad's hair.

"What's u-" He yelps when the baby boy starts to twist and turn his fists while he continues to babble something only another baby could make out and sob like he was the one in pain,

"Oh god- baby you shouldn't do that come here-"

You try pulling Megumi back in your arms, but he is willing to take Toji's head along because he just wasn't loosening his grip.

"Gumi ! mommy will cry if you don't pay attention to her !" You make a pouty face and put your hands on your hips while Toji was busy yelping and cursing not caring that the little boy could hear everything

But that immediately gets the baby's attention because he instantly turns his head around and starts crawling to you as his cries slowly starts dying down.

"Demon child !" Toji points as he runs his hands through the locks of his hair, rubbing at the area that his son almost got him bald at,

You lift the baby up in your arms as you look at Toji,

"and don't you curse again in front of our baby" you knit your brows before turning your attention to the two year old and wiping the tears away from his puffy cheeks.

"So I'm the bad guy here??" Toji questions, looking defeated.

You shrug and walk away with Megumi in your arms who had finally gotten quite.

Oh you and Toji had a lot of explaining to do to this little boy, but that wasn't a headache you both were willing to take for Monday morning.

Maybe later at night, when Megumi will seemingly be a bit less pissed at his dad.

☆ — REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED !

[tsukiflwr]

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 .ᐟ THINGS ENHA DO THAT MAKES YOU SECOUND-GUESS YOUR 'FRIENDSHIP'

𝓅airing ∿ hyung line! enha x f!reader ᰔ 𝒽eadcanons ; fluff, friends to lovers, 𝓌: none that I know of 𐙚 𝓌c 1682 ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓇oro's note. i did not intend for these to be so long ﹒ ꒰ 𝓁ibrary ꒱ + 𝓂aknae ver

LEE HEESEUNG ∿ being touchy

you were used to heeseung’s touch. the way he would rest his hand on your lower back to alert you of his presence, the lingering hugs where his hands would hold your waist, how he would wrap his arm around your shoulders whenever the two of you stood or sat next to each other, his fingers absentmindedly tracing shapes on your shoulder as he talked and laughed with your friends. 

and the little things like reaching over to put on your seatbelt for you, holding your hand while crossing the road or following the sidewalk rule, pressing his chest back up against your chest as he helped you reach for things on a higher shelf . . . they didn't seem so little to you anymore. 

the lingering hugs lasted longer, his arm that used to rest on your shoulders moved to your waist to hold you closer instead. He would play with your fingers when you guys would binge watch shows in the living room, he would rest his hand on your thigh whenever he sat next to you, playing with the hem of your top. His fingers would linger on your face to softly caress your skin whenever he would tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

he didn’t touch his other friends like how he touched you, he certainly didn't pull them to sit on his lap when he played video games like he did with you. Or how he would cuddle you on the couch as you watched movies, his fingers absentmindedly caressing your sides while he placed soft kisses on your cheek, forehead or temple. Yeah, he definitely didn't do that with his other friends . . . 

you knew that he was aware of how it was affecting you, and you also knew that he enjoyed every minute of it. giving you that innocent teasing smile when he felt your heartbeat faster against his chest, or when he notices that flustered smile on your lips. deep down you knew the reason why he touched and looked at you like that – and he knew it too. 

PARK JAY ∿ spoiling you

you noticed jay’s habit of buying things for you very early in your friendship. whenever the two of you went out to get food he always made sure to pay the bill, quickly grabbing it before you could even see the amount, waving off your protests with a sweet smile. even when you were the one to make the plans he always found a way to pay first. when you had brought it up to him he just gave you that smirk as he said “Is it so bad that I want to treat you?” 

when the two of you went shopping together, he always paid attention to the things your eyes would linger on but decided not to get it because it cost too much, sneaking the items in his basket to buy them for you, along with things he just wanted to get for you. he didn't even bother to ever look at the price tag, knowing that it was going to be worth it seeing that smile on your face. 

he would bring you home items from when he went on trips with his friends/family, he would come up with excuses like ‘i thought of you when i saw it’ or ‘it's just a little gift‘ and one that never failed to make you a flustered mess was ‘I saw it and knew you would look pretty in it’ he had to know he was making you feel things when he said things like that . . . 

you noticed how jay would always playfully complain about buying things for his other friends, saying that they could get it themselves, but with you he did it without a second thought. you weren't the only one to notice that. your fellow shared friends had noticed it too, and of course they had to tease jay about it. but he wouldn't let it bother him, he’d continue to spoil you, buying you anything that reminded him of you. 

you’d wake up to a beautiful bouquet of fresh flowers outside your door every week, and almost every time you went to collect your packages there were always extra one’s, always with a sweet little note from jay ‘thinking on you’ ‘wear this tonight, i'm taking you out’ the gifts soon turned more romantic, domestic if you really think about it. but your relationship with him really changed once he gifted you that beautiful silver necklace with the letter ‘J’. 

he loved watching you absentmindedly fidget with the necklace as you happily talked with your friends, or how you would always admire how pretty it looked decorating your neck. he loved to softly tug on the chain to gain your attention, or to use it to pull you closer to him. he didn't care who the two of you were with, he’d stop in the middle of a conversation to reach towards your neck and gently pull the necklace that slipped under your top, adjusting it so the ‘J’ could be seen by everyone . . . you both knew he was irrevocably claiming you as his. 

SIM JAKE ∿ never corrects it when people assume your his girlfriend

you and jake have always been close, ever since the two of you met as young children – both of you were ‘forced’ to come along with your moms to a nice lunch between old friends. the two of you sat at the table, talking quietly and giggling as you raced each other to finish the mazes on the children's menus that were given. your mothers both smiling at the friendship blooming between the two of you. jake would refuse to admit it now, but his young self-did shed a few tears when he had to leave, not wanting to be away from his ‘pwetty friend’ 

as the years went on you only got closer with jake, he was your person . . . and you were his. but not only did he get closer to you emotionally, but also physically. and it was something that everyone noticed, the two of you grew up together hearing the hushed whispers of your moms giggling about how they would be in-laws in the future. So the topic of you two being together was something you were used to. 

it was a popular misconception – that the two of you were together. anyone would think you were – with how close, touchy, and the way you guys looked at each other. And jake ever the polite, would say “oh – no we're just friends”. . .  but jake found it unnecessary to correct the misconception as his feelings for you grew stronger. 

he liked to see the flustered smile decorate your lips whenever someone mistakenly called you, his girlfriend. he found it adorable how shy and awkward you would get, stumbling over your words. he also really loved that moment of bliss where he could fantasize that the two of you were together – that you were actually his girlfriend. that him taking you to that cafe you loved wasn't just a friendly outing but instead a date. 

you didn't know how to bring it up to him, that you noticed how he stopped correcting people, that he would always pull you closer to him when it happened. or how you noticed that big grin would always form on his lips after. that bliss you felt in that moment would quickly turn into confusion as your mind raced with thoughts on why he didn't correct them. 

was it because he was just polite, that he didn't want to make the person uncomfortable by correcting them? – you really hoped that it wasn't just because he was polite. You wanted it to be because he wanted you too – that you weren't the only one to have those silly little fantasies of the two of you together . . . 

PARK SUNGHOON ∿ being protective and possessive

one thing you admired about Sunghoon was how protective he was, to his family, to his friends, to you . . . with years of being best friends with him you didn't know why suddenly started to get so flustered whenever he got protective of you. maybe it was because his protectiveness was almost always accompanied with his possessiveness, and God was it hot . . . 

he always follows the sidewalk rule with you and walks you back safely to your car / apartment etc., he never sits with his back to the door when you are out at a restaurant, all he wants is you to be safe. at parties he always had his arm around your waist, giving his best intimidating look to any guy who tried to come up to you, and if you were at the party without him, he always made sure to check on you through the night, staying up despite the tiredness just in case you called for a ride home. 

he wasn't just protective of your physical but also your mental, he knew you better than anyone else so he could easily see whenever you were overwhelmed or going through something. he’d pull you somewhere quiet, he was there to listen to you talk about what's bothering you and giving you the best advice he could, and if you weren't in the mood to talk, he would do his best to distract you from your negative thoughts.

he sees your ex at a party? he's making sure he doesn’t come and bother you and get your mind all messed up after months of you getting better . . . he was very sensitive with you, especially if someone brought you up, he's always quick to shut down anything that's not appropriate. 

everyone always assumed that the two of you were together, he was always so touchy with you in public, he had a habit of scaring off guys who had taken a liking to you, he never shot down the rumors of you together, only making them stronger . . . at this point the only two who didn't know you were dating where the two of you 

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓇oro's note. HEHE ITS FINALLY DONE !! it honestly felt like I’ve been working on this for weeks (i have oops) the maknae version will be released tomorrow !! I now have a taglist, so please comment or send an ask in my inbox if you would like to be added (please specify what taglist you would like to be added too !!) @leehansdoll is the account I will tagging you with <3 ꒰ nav ꒱

which member was your favorite?

likes, reblogs, comments and feedback are heavily encouraged !

[himbosandhardwear]

Eddie has a bad habit of picking at his skin when he's nervous. Not, like, shy nervous or stage fright nervous, but the real kind of nervous, not-sure-I’m-gonna-survive-this kind of nervous. Like while he was alone in the boat house, he'd shredded every one of his cuticles. That time Hopper caught him behind The Hawk, very obviously selling his wares, he'd bitten his lips bloody.

Tonight he's picking a scab off his knee. It's practically healed already, so it won't bleed, he just needs to feel something on his body come loose before he does.

“You good, dude?” Steve asks, so in tune to Eddie's nervous disposition. Such a good guy. What a friend.

Eddie lets his head hit his knee caps with a thunk.

“Yup.”

Steve snorts. “You don't look good. I mean… You know what I mean.”

He smiles, tilting his head to look at Steve, always happy to give him a hard time.

“Oh, absolutely. You think I look good, don't cha, Stevie?”

He gets a couch pillow to the face for that, but they're both laughing so he doesn't think he's crossed the line yet.

Yet, yet, yet.

“Seriously, what's up with you? You've been quiet. It makes me want to call the squad.”

“Har har,” Eddie mumbles, but he does uncurl himself, sitting back against the couch again. “I'm trying to work up the nerve to ask for advice but it's-” Christ, he doesn't even want to admit to being embarrassed, that's how embarrassed he is.

“It's what?” Steve asks, the picture of earnest encouragement. “You can talk to me about anything, man, we're, like, bonded in blood or whatever.”

“Right. Yeah. Except this has the potential to get real awkward, real quick, and I'm not sure we're at that level of friendship yet.”

“Well,” he drawls, “if you ask me whatever it is that's got you all flustered I'm sure that will level us up. Right?”

“I'm not flustered.” God damn his red fucking face. Steve just laughs at him. “It's just, I don't have anyone else to ask about this. Jonathan probably doesn't have this particular problem, cause he's got- Uh. Sorry.” Steve waves it away, so Eddie goes on. “The kids are too young and the band guys don't understand what we went through-”

“Eddie, just spit it out.”

“Fuck! Okay, fine! You asked for it.” He takes a giant breath, steels his spine and just says it. “The Trauma is affecting my ability to get laid and I don't know how to fix it. Every time I get close to it I freak out and have to bail.”

There. All out now.

He looks over at Steve, and it's so much worse than being laughed at or pitied. He just looks sad.

He shakes it off quickly, hair barely moving, Eddie notes. He finds Steve's hair routine both endearing and ridiculous.

“Yeah. Okay. That's super common, just so you know,” Steve assures him first. “Robin says it's all connected, your mind and your body, so trauma can, like, get trapped in weird places like that. I can't play baseball anymore. Cause the memory of beating demodogs to death.”

“As you do,” Eddie quips.

“Right. But your thing. Uh. Yeah, it took some time before I could relax enough to even attempt getting laid, let alone actually do it.”

“So?” Eddie drawls, waiting. “How did you get over it?”

Something is off. Steve's not known for being skiddish about sex, but his hesitation and his inability to look Eddie in the eye is setting off alarms.

“Hey, if this is too weird for you-”

“No, I'm good, it's fine. Just, I'm the only person you have to talk to about this, so I'm gonna try to be helpful but, uh,” he scratches at the back of his head awkwardly, “in all honesty, I haven't been laid since before Vecna either. Way before. So. Yeah. Not sure I should be giving out advice on anything.”

That's crazy. Like actually crazy. He can't even compute Steve Harrington not absolutely dripping in women. He must have some look on his face because Steve gives a dry sort of laugh, self deprecating, and leans back against the couch with him.

“Weren't you on a date with Brenda Mulligan the night- Vecna’s first attack?”

Steve shoots him a look. “Y- Yeah, but that didn't go anywhere. We weren't, like, compatible or whatever.”

Oh, yeah, it was weird that Eddie knew that at all, let alone remembered it nine months later. “That's too bad,” he replies lamely.

“Yep.”

He feels terrible for dragging down the whole night, it would've been better if he'd just kept his mouth shut. But that's never been his strong suit, as evidenced by him blurting out, “If the hottest guy in Hawkins can't find a suitable date, what fucking chance do I have.”

Steve snaps, “Don't say that. What the fuck?”

Great, now he's gone and made it weird. Good job calling your straight friend hot, you fuckin’ dipshit.

They sit in the awkward silence, out of things to say or out of useful things to say. Either way it's them breathing, the clock ticking, and the M.A.S.H. rerun playing softly in the background.

Steve clears his throat. “Whatever, let's get back to the point. You don't have to tell me if you don't want but…what do you think the specific reason is for your…issue?”

He thinks about it. Has been thinking about it, for a while now. “My dick still works, if that's what you're wondering.”

Steve chuckles, high and surprised. “Good for you.”

“Yeah. It's more like, I can't get out of my head. I start worrying about my scars, explaining them if someone asked. I think about how even though I don't want anything long-term, I wouldn't be able to do long-term anyway, because I'm a fucking mess. If it's really bad, I'll get flashes of Chrissy or Patrick's bones snapping, as a little soundtrack to the fun shit happening outside my head.”

Steve looks sad again. Maybe it is pity but it looks more turned inward, like he's dealing with his own shit more than Eddie’s.

“You hooking up with strangers then?”

Eddie blinks at Steve. “Well…duh. Right? Not like I have guys lined up around the block here in Hawkins.”

Steve is full blown scowling at the TV. It's weird.

“What if-”

Eddie waits but Steve doesn't finish his thought.

“What if…what?” He prompts, giving a little nudge with his foot.

He's still avoiding eye contact, not even turning his head to look in Eddie's direction.

In a soft voice, almost too quiet to hear, he says, “What if we helped each other out?”

He must've heard that wrong. Or he's misunderstanding.

“What?”

“What if we help each other out? Like, a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

That can't be right. No fucking way. It's a test. Like as soon as Eddie agrees, Steve yells ‘Aha! I knew you wanted to molest me! Goodbye forever!’ and runs out the door.

“What, exactly, do you mean? Like, what are you getting out of it?”

Steve finally looks over. “Well, I would think that was obvious. If you're willing.”

Eddie's legs are starting to go numb.

“Okay, so I blow you and you blow me, except when you're doing it I have to watch you take it like you're being force fed liver and onions at Grandma's house?”

Steve slowly shakes his head no.

“Oh, okay, so you're going to blow me and enjoy it,” he snaps sarcasticaly.

Steve nods once.

“You want to blow me?”

“Mmhmm,” he hums without moving a muscle.

“Since when!” Eddie brings his octave down from the upper atmosphere. “Since when, Harrington? This is insane behavior. Should I call the squad for you? I'm serious. I'll do it.”

“You don't have to say yes. I was just offering.” He says it like Eddie isn't one green flag away from stomping on the gas.

He starts nervously laughing, which makes Steve flinch unfortunately, but he can't stop.

“It's cool, just forget I said anything.” He moves like he's about to get up and leave, which is fucking insane because it's his living room. Eddie stops him with a tight grip around the bicep.

“Don't you dare. If you're even remotely serious, we have to have a much longer conversation. Sit.”

Steve drops like a sack of bricks. Which is…something.

“Right. First off, this is uncommon behavior in a straight friend. Is there something you'd like to tell me, so I don't think you've been body snatched?”

He pinches at the top of his nose, like Eddie is inconveniencing him greatly. Too bad.

“I'm probably bisexual.”

“Probably?” Eddie asks with a raised eyebrow.

“I'm an inexperienced bisexual,” he amends through clenched teeth.

“Good. Great. Happy to hear it.” His heart may explode from his torso à la Ridley Scott's Alien but sure. “Second on the agenda, what do you mean help each other out? What's on the table? Mutual handjobs and then we never talk about it again?”

“No,” Steve answers immediately. That's good. “I'm open to…whatever you're open to.”

“Steve.” He has to clear his throat. “You dont even know what you're agreeing to.”

“I trust you.”

Fuuuuuck.

“Okay, right, uh, let's circle back to that later. Third thing, what, uh, what is your level of commitment with this?”

He just stares at Eddie, all doe eyed. It shouldn't work, Eddie fucking invented that look. It's gotten him out of more scrapes than he can count. Now it's being used against him but to what end? Does Steve want to get bundled up in a blanket and tucked into bed? Because Eddie can make that happen for him.

“Whatever you want, I guess,” he finally says. “I mean, like I said earlier, friends who help each other out. Casual. I'm not interested in looking for Mrs Harrington anymore and you're having a problem relaxing around guys who don't understand what you went through.” He makes a gesture like ‘Ta da.’

He's not wrong. It makes sense. But…

“Fourth thing. Is this just an experiment for you? Cause I'm all for you exploring your sexuality but, historically speaking, friends are a bad place to start.” AKA ‘it will break my fucking heart if you decide you're not that into it and it's because it's me.’

“Eddie. Look.” He gets more comfortable, facing Eddie straight on finally. “What you're going to provide is practical knowledge on what has only been theoretical up to this point, but the theory has already been well established.” He taps his head. “Understand?”

A smug confidence melts Eddie into the couch. “You liiike me,” he sings. “You think about me naaaked. You wanna-”

Steve lands on him, lacking any elegance or grace, and nearly caves their skulls in with his Jay Garrick approach to kissing. Eddie doesn't say a fucking word. He does wonder at the fucking majesty that is making out sober. What a revelation. Steve keeps making these tiny, almost wounded noises, to the point where Eddie tries to back up and do a check in but Steve doesn't let him, he chases him down and latches back onto Eddie's bottom lip like he's Hannibal Lector. It's stupid hot.

Everything is going great until Steve lets out a sound that legitimately has Eddie worried he's upset about something.

He pulls back and asks, “Are you okay?”

“Oh fuck, I'm sorry. I just can't, I can't believe I got this fucking far. You're so hot I'm losing my fucking mind.”

“Me?” Eddie snaps. “Dude, you're out of your mind.” He pokes Steve in his meaty chest. “Literal. Prom. King.”

“Fucking stupid high school shit, are you kidding me?” He sits up, straddling Eddie's hips, which is boner enhancing to say the least; he's got Steve's thighs in his grasp immediately. “You don't get it, I'm gone on you. I've got it bad, man. I was playing it cool earlier-”

“At no point tonight were you in any way playing it cool.”

“-but, fuck it, guess I'm ruining it, cause I can't be cool about this. I don't want casual. I don't even want to date you,” and before Eddie can even worry about that, he says, “I wanna skip straight to boyfriends, man. I know you said you didn't want long term with anyone but-”

Eddie interrupts again, this time by pulling Steve back down horizontal and kissing him like he just bravely declared himself as all in.

If this is a pod-person, well, that's a problem for Tomorrow Eddie. Tonight Eddie just landed Steve Harrington as a boyfriend.

[darnell-la]

𝗦𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗦 𝗔 𝗕𝗜𝗚 𝗗𝗢𝗚

pairing: the worst!logan howlett x younger generation!reader

warnings: Logan easing into the new world and generation, mention of Wade trying to get roommate!reader and Logan together, making a TikTok, sniffing, smut, etc.

note: “she don’t want no puppy! She wanna BIG dawg!”

———

Logan had thought living with Wade would be a bad idea. He belonged in his last universe with what he’s done. He brought himself down for years, mentally and physically, hoping the pain would stop. Thankfully, it finally had.

It’s been almost a year since Logan has lived with Wade and his younger roommate. The match seemed off when he first met her, but after the first hour, she knew why she and Wade were close friends.

The girl was in college, young, pretty, had a small job at the campus, and loved parties, and things that Wade did daily.

Logan had a small argument with y/n a couple of weeks ago after she gifted him an iPhone. She said he needed it to keep in touch with her and Wade. She also said he needed a bit of humor.

He had no idea what that meant until she made a TikTok for the man. The videos that came up on his page didn’t make sense to him, he he still laughed at them.

He had no idea what happened to himself, but sending memes to y/n every hour was a habit.

After sending y/n a TikTok video, he swiped and came across a sound that confused him.

The man in the video was lip-syncing a song as she showed his muscles. Logan gave a disgusting look at his phone, thinking the man looked ridiculous until he read the title.

“When she chose you because you’re height starts with a six and your weight starts with a two”

Logan sent the video to y/n, asking her what he meant by that. He didn’t know being a muscle-tall man was a trend.

“Logan, I’m in the room next to you, just come here!” Y/n shouted in her room, making him sigh loudly as he got off of the couch for the first time in what felt like days.

“I just wanted to know what he meant? Like is being big and tall a trend? Like, if that’s the case, then I’d be viral,” Logan used words that y/n and Wade ran him by.

“God, Logan — Do people your age question everything?” Y/n checked her phone and noticed what trend he sent her. She’s thought about this trend but with Logan in it. He fits it perfectly, but Wade would tease her if she’d ever brought it up.

“I’m just askin', Bub. Seemed stupid to me,” Logan shrugged his shoulders. “Because you haven’t tried it,” y/n defended her generation. “So, you’re into that stuff? God, y/n — Never knew you’d be one of those kids,”

“I do like it, and since you’re so boring, we’re gonna have you do it, so c’mere,” y/n stood up from her bed and placed her phone down on her desk after clicking the sound.

“Gotta take your shirt off for it,” y/n lied, but she knew he’d do it, even if he complained. “No fuckin’ way, bub,” Logan laughed as he turned around to go back to his sofa until she grabbed his arm softly.

“Please! You never do TikTok’s with me,” y/n fake cried, annoying him in an instant. “Ain’t takin’ my shirt off for no little girls online. I’d get, what’s it called? Canceled?” Logan said, making her laugh.

“Logan, you sound stupid as fuck. Take off the shirt — Unless you’re jealous they look better than you,” y/n shrugged her shoulders as she went back to her bed to sit down, acting like she didn’t care to get a reaction out of him.

“Bub, you know I look better than them, so stop the lyin,” Logan felt a bit upset at her words. Y/n ignored him for what felt like hours, so he sighed and gave up. “Swear to god, I’d Wade say some shit about this, I’ll kill him,”

Logan and y/n worked on the TikTok for an half hour, trying to get the right angle since he kept saying he didn’t look good enough.

Y/n never complained. Watching him walk through her door repeatedly, then editing the video in slow motion, made her stomach tingle.

At first, Logan felt uncomfortable. She could smell the young lady, but he didn’t want to say anything. He’d be a pervert if he did, so he kept quiet, thinking it would go away, but he knew her spot grew bigger.

“So, you think I’m a big dog?” Logan genuinely asked as y/n began to edit the TikTok video. “What makes you think that?” She asked; thinking she nailed her scared response, but Logan saw the quick stutter in her fingers as she typed on her phone.

“Just askin, bub,” Logan said before taking a small sniff. He was leaning on her doorway as she sat on her bed. He was so far., yet she smelt so close.

He cussed himself out in his head, upset that Wade had won this “you’ll like her eventually” argument. Logan swore she was too young, and even made her feel a bit bad.

He had thought y/n had moved on, maybe got over the thought of her having a chance with Wade’s new friend, but the smell she had, is making him go insane.

All she’s doing is making a TikTok. That’s it, but he can’t stop thinking about the spot she’s soaking in her panties. He felt nasty, but in a good way after a while. The lust was taking him over.

“You happy you’ve got your little video?” Logan asked as he kicked off of her dorm frame and walked towards her bed to sit next to her.

“Yes, finally,” she smiled at him before continuing her edit. Logan scanned the girl's body slowly, watching how spotty her breathing was, seeing goosebumps form on her arms, and watching her leg shake a bit.

“Is that so?” He asked as he placed his hand on her thigh. She’s always been a sweet bean to him, but he ignored it. He tried his best to prove Wade wrong, but she was hard to ignore, and Wade knew that. Wade knew y/n would bring something out in the grumpy old man.

“Mhm hm,” Y/n mumbled as she pushed the post on her phone. “Think it’ll get a lot of likes,” she looked to the side at Logan who was now closer than she thought.

“And why is that? I look good?” He asked her, eyes on her soft and pretty lips. “Uh, yeah — Think the viewers will like it,” she awkwardly smiled, feeling her heart raise.

“Think you liked it more than the viewers will,” Logan almost whispered. Y/n just noticed how his shirt was still off. Why was his shirt still off?

“Seen you repost that video, y/n. You’re not slick,” Logan spoke about the video he had sent her. “Think you were thinkin’ about me when you did it,” the man smirked.

“I- I was just reposting,” Y/n stuttered as his hand slowly cupped her chin. “Guess I’m not the big dog you’re lookin’ for them,” Logan faked sighing as he pulled his hand back.

Before he could turn around to get up, y/n grabbed his face and pulled him into a short but long kiss, hoping to get the best out of this one-time thing.

“Told you last you, you ain’t for me, baby,” Logan said, making y/n look down in embarrassment. “I know,” she said. “I lied — Was just goin’ through a little somethin,” Logan admitted before pulling her back into a kiss, this time rough.

Y/n gasped as he breathed into her mouth, sucking on her lips like he’d starved for days. “Lo,” y/n moaned low at the feeling of his pulling her into his rough kisses.

Logan decided to push Y/n down on her bed and lean over her, keeping their lips together. Y/n instantly wrapped her legs around the man, pulling him closer as he moved his hips, grinding on her to feel the pressure.

“Oh, fuck,” Logan groaned in between their kiss, feeling his cock leak already. “If I fuck you, Wade wins,” Logan pulled back from the girl, taking a look into her eyes. She thought the man would leave, get off of her and never speak to her again, until he assured her, he was staying.

“Fuck it — Can’t resist you anymore, baby,” Logan smashed his lips back onto the young lady's lips, kissing her roughly as he tugged on his jeans. All y/n had to do was pull up the gown she wore almost every day she was off of work when she was too lazy to dress up.

“Wait- We need a condom,” y/n leaned up, but Logan pushed her back down. “Oh, no we don’t. Your cunts leaking too much for me to not feel her,” Logan said. She was confused, not knowing how he knew she was wet until she thought to herself.

He’s a mutant. His only powers can’t be regeneration and speed.

“Fuck, I-“ y/n cut herself off, embarrassed at her pervy actions. He probably smells her all the time. “Caught red-handed,” Logan chuckled as he put his cock in hand.

“Always wet around the house. Teasin’ me and basically beggin’ for me every day. Wished I took you to my room when I first met you. Maybe by now, we’d have our little family,”

Logan pushed into the girl, giving her no time to think about what he had just said about a family.

She’s never thought of a family with Logan. It’s not he wasn’t father material, it’s the fact she’s only been thinking about him pleasing her, and pleasing her only.

“Fuck, that’s it,”

[aweina]

౨ৎ. MANSPREAD ( 17﹢) ; mike schmidt

tags fem reader. established relationship. dry humping / heavy petting. begging. no reader orgasm ( boo ! ! ). cocky to submissive mikey + 1.8k words.

mike cannot seem to keep his legs closed. literally. sitting next to him was a total hassle. his legs covering every perimeter of leg space he could reach — leaving your knees buckled together and tucked in whatever corner you’re forced into.

you’ve mentioned his bad habit before, in which he mumbles an indolent “sorry” and then the next day, continues to do the same thing he’s half heartedly apologized for. at this point, you’re not sure he was doing it to press your buttons or his permanent restlessness has caught up with his memory.

then playful slaps on the knee became another idea. a quick sting to his skin kept his reactions stunned, buckling his knees together from your sharp touches. each slap garnered a short cry and a sudden flinch like some invisible string tied his legs together.

it worked, but only for a few days.

now mike catches your wrist halfway from making contact on his knees, gently tugging you down in the corner of the linen couch with a delighted chuckle. either that or he tosses you a knowing glance when you come by the couch, a raised brow and his hands protecting the caps of his knees — glancing his soft hazel eyes towards the tiny empty space beside him.

what a total ass.

all your solutions to stop his leg spreading habit seemed to do nothing for mike. instead, it made him even more repulsive — the spatial width between his legs could nearly reach the arms of the couch, leaving your poor body folded to regain any left over space. then his arms spread along the plush pillows — his rough hand would ever so often teasingly tug at your ears or play with the loose strands of your hair, pulling the ends while playfully twirling it in his finger.

in the corner of your eye, you swore there was a smug smile etched onto his face.

yeah, he’s totally doing this on purpose.

you thought a bit harder after that day. re-enacting different scenarios in your head without it resulting in some unneeded argument — nearly burning abby’s lunch in the process. but like a flash of light, it suddenly hit you. if mike was going to rob you of personal space, why can’t you do so to him?

“um … are you okay?” abby glances up at your blank eyes in concern, the chicken that was supposed to be golden brown violently sizzled from the bubbling oil, grimly layered under a blanket of black charcoal.

“o – oh, yes i’m fine abs.” you assured the smaller schmidt, transferring the hot pan away from the scorching stove — your inner victory delayed by your own clumsiness.

to salvage her burnt meal, you both shared a box of fresh delivered pizza for lunch.

but now it was that time.

it’s nighttime, mike was comfortably splayed on the couch, mindlessly flipping through channels. as it always was, his legs covered every crevice of the couch — body propped completely in between the plush cushions. the gray baggy sweatpants he changed into clung to his frame well — heavily ruffled on the parts you would love to get an eyeful of. his shirt was slightly damp from a warm shower, the gentle curl patterns in his brown hair glistened under the colorful glow of the television.

mike catches your lingering gaze, a pleased smile on his face.

“you’re not going to sit down?” he slurred a quip, patting down on the other end of the couch — seized by his thick thighs.

he refrains from teasing you for your blatant staring, but instead, for your multiple failed attempts to get him to stop his obnoxious leg spreading.

“oh yeah i will.” you mocked his sluggish tone, going to get yourself a cold drink before you make your way over to the couch.

blocking his view from the blaring screen, you purposely bent down in slow motion — distracting him from his vacuous browsing to simply put your drink down. mike quirks a brow at your little act, but still makes no effort to scoot over, barely moving a muscle.

then your body began to engulf his vision, fluorescent light spilling in the sides of your shadow. confusion knitted into his brows until suddenly, the air in his lungs were punched out from an added weight. the heavy crash of your body made mike rasp a curse, making him pathetically adjust himself after being nearly sunken in the folds of the aged couch — one hand clawing at the cushions for some stability.

“r – really? on my lap?” mike managed to breath out, holding your waist steadily with his free hand — your body felt so good flushed against his.

the innocent attempt to adjust himself ended up with him grinding on your ass, eliciting a low groan from his lips.

gosh, he’s too loud.

you hurriedly fish out the remote from his weak grasp, changing the channel to something that could hopefully muffle the pathetic noises that spill from mike’s mouth. abby’s room was still nearby the living room, the lights off and the door completely shut.

“well … you never give me room on the couch, so i think this is fair.” you explained leisurely, tossing the remote to the side as you grappled onto his spread knees, lifting off some weight to rub slow, shallow circles over his clothed cock.

mike fought back a needy whimper, biting his lip until fleshy pink turned paper white. the cooling sensation of his damp hair did nothing from how much his body was burning up. both his hands cling desperately onto the handles of your waist — kneading and lightly grazing his nails in your soft skin.

a throbbing warmth brushed against your clothed clit, mercilessly constricted by the confines of his sweatpants. you fought back a whine yourself, desperately tugging at the gray fabric with sealed lips. every steady brush of your soft flesh made mike see stars, the urge to lift his hips and grind harder into the curve of ass sat heavy in his lust hazed mind. yet his obedience seemed to glimmer brighter than his deviant instincts.

“ha ha- harder – ngh – please go harder.”

he sounded so sweet, so needy. you couldn’t deny him when the pool of his sticky precum oozes through the gray fabric — gossamer strings that weaved your dripping arousal with his own.

“s – stay still then.” you whispered, now fully pressing your weight against his hard cock — your back against his panting chest.

mike does what you ask, gluing his hips down to the cushions.

his heartbeat was racing against time, pumping all the hot blood that rushed down to his cock. his warm breath fanned the back of your neck, sending electric waves down your spine. his touches were sweaty, latching and kneading anything that pertained to softness. the open mouthed kisses he planted on your bare neck blossomed into purple hues, the drag of his teeth and muted whimpers coercing you to absolutely destroy him.

your hips rocked faster on his cock, the throbbing imprint tucked between the curve of your ass. his grip felt extra tight on your hips, reddish crescent marks decorating your flushed skin. mike throws his head back on the couch, his usual deep groans replaced with airy sighs. he closes his eyes, the same stars dancing in his eyelids — your heady scent making it harder for him not to hold you down himself and hump his cock against your pussy.

he’s so close, he can feel it.

“might cum – ah fuck.” mike warns with a high-pitched whine, the blasting audio from the television really doing him a favor.

you can tell too. his cock hasn’t stopped throbbing ever since he’s accidentally grind against you. his seeping precum never seemed to stop, only staining against the seat of the couch. he was like a horny teenager, so desperate to get off and trying so hard to compose himself. not like the asshole who was taking up all the space on the couch.

this was a great plan after all.

with one hard press against his cock, a spill of scorching heat nestled into your clothed pussy — eating through his soiled fabric and coating your covered folds. with no restraint whatsoever, mike’s deep groan vibrated the dimly lit living room, mindlessly bucking his hips lazily over your cunt like he could possibly pump some cum along your walls. the stars that whirled under his lids dispersed into a warm, satisfied feeling all over his usual restless body.

the very last minute, your hands flailed over his panting mouth — looking over to the direction of abby’s room. he seems to realize how loud he was, eyes widening as he hastily grabs onto the discarded remote, amplifying the volume to a considerate tone. not too loud to wake her up but definitely loud enough to cover the after effects of your intense heavy petting.

the light in her room remains untouched, her delicate footsteps nonexistent. she’s still asleep, thank goodness.

still both hazy from your lustful highs, mike drops the remote and snuggles into the crook of your neck — taking in your addicting scent while admiring the love marks he gave you. his cock softened under the soiled fabric, the sticky feeling making him furrow his brows. but then he realizes one thing, the sudden flinch of his body made you alarmed.

“i – i’m sorry. you didn’t get to cum.” mike sheepishly apologizes, fiddling with the waistband of your soiled shorts.

you shook your head with a relieved sigh, leaning back to gently kiss his stubble jawline — combing your fingers through his soft curls, dried on the top but the ends damp with sweat.

“i’m fine, baby, but you can make it up with one thing.” you mumbled in the base of his ear, a playful smile on your face.

in the corner of his eye, he can see the curl of your lips — the sight earning an eye roll.

“i already know what you’re going to say, but let’s hear it.” mike’s voice was baritone next to your flushed face, completely contrasting his previous whines and whimpers.

“give me all the space on the couch for now on.” you laugh when mike groans, still pulling your body closer to his despite this new ordeal.

“okay fine.” he defeatedly mumbles into your shoulder, his rough hands tracing over your bruised hips to your neglected chest — reaching under to knead your soft skin for his own enjoyment.

the moments of comforting silence were therapeutic, not even the continuous dialogue and sound effects from the bulky screen could ruin its peace. there was something still ticking mike off, he didn’t want to ruin this sweet moment but he couldn’t help it.

“are you sure my lap isn’t good enough?” he pleaded, a glint of hope in his hazy eyes — the couch being his only source of possession where he could splay himself comfortably.

you scoffed, rolling your eyes in the back of your head.

“no.”

it was an attempt.

he huffs in defeat, now kneading at your chest for some comfort.

“okay.”

© aweina : please do not copy, repost, or modify any of my content.

[eclips-moon]

Batboys finding you sleeping in wierd places headcanon:

Damian Wayne

"Bro, you can't keep doing this." Damian finds you sleeping in the weirdest spots, and he's lowkey over it. One time, you're passed out in the Batmobile, snacks everywhere, legs hanging out the door. He just stands there, staring at you like you're the most chaotic thing he's ever seen. “How do you even fall asleep like this?” But of course, he’s not gonna leave you there. He rolls his eyes, adjusts the seat, and tucks you in (very dramatically) like, “Don’t make this a habit.” He’s not mad. He’s just... concerned? But mostly shook by your ability to sleep anywhere.

Tim Drake

“I literally told you to stop drinking so much coffee.” Tim finds you asleep everywhere—face down on a stack of papers, in the middle of the Batcave, on top of the Batcomputer. He doesn’t even act surprised anymore. He’s just like, “Well, I warned you.” One time, you’re passed out on the couch, snacks everywhere, and Tim picks up the coffee cup you definitely spilled while napping. “I love you, but this is chaos,” he says, brushing some crumbs off your face. "Next time, please at least use the chair." He leaves a note with your next coffee: “You’re welcome.”

Dick Grayson

“You’re so cute, but like, also... why???” Dick finds you asleep in the kitchen, spread out on the counter like you’ve been hit by a truck. He can't help but laugh, but also he's lowkey impressed that you managed to fall asleep there. He pulls out his phone and takes a pic (because of course he does). “I’m definitely showing this to everyone,” he says, not even hiding his grin. You wake up mid-photo, trying to act like you weren’t drooling, but Dick just chuckles. "Gonna frame this one." You’re like, “Please, no,” and he’s already texting it to the group chat.

Jason Todd

“You’re literally doing this to mess with me, aren’t you?” Jason finds you sleeping everywhere—on the floor, under the Batmobile, sprawled out on the roof. He’s got that annoyed big brother vibe, like, “You’re going to get a crick in your neck,” but the second he sees you all cute and dead to the world, he can’t help but sigh. One time, he even gently picks you up to move you. You wake up in a daze, and he’s like, “I didn’t sign up for this. But you look adorable when you're asleep, so whatever.” “No need to carry me, I’m fine,” you mumble. “I’m doing it because I have no choice,” he responds.

Duke Thomas

“How do you even sleep like this?” Duke is actually concerned when he finds you sleeping in random spots, but at the same time, it’s kinda funny. One time, he finds you passed out on the floor of the training room, head on a punching bag like it’s your pillow. He’s like, “You... you okay? How does that even happen?” He sits down next to you and gives you a little nudge. “You’re making me look bad, you know that? I’m over here trying to be all cool, and you’re taking naps in the middle of the Batcave.” He laughs but also kinda adjusts you, “Next time, at least use a pillow or something.”

Bruce Wayne

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” Bruce, being Bruce, finds you sleeping in the weirdest places—and honestly, he’s just not even shocked anymore. One time, you’re passed out on top of the Batcomputer, legs dangling off the side like you’re part of the furniture. Bruce just stares for a second before doing the whole “I’m-not-angry-I’m-just-disappointed��� thing. “Please don’t sleep in here,” he says, carefully moving you to a more... comfy spot (probably your bed, but he’s not gonna say that). He tries to keep it chill, but there's definitely a dad vibe. "You could’ve at least stayed on the couch." You wake up, confused, and he’s like, “Just... don't fall asleep in the Batsuit next time.”

[lupinsversion]

𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 - 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐃𝐨𝐠

• summary: sirius has a bad habit of flirting with others, especially in front of his girlfriend. has she finally had enough?

• contains: sirius black x fem reader, established relationship, flirting with others, angst

• word count: 850

masterlist || requests

Sirius had been dating his girlfriend for a year by now, and it was a pretty steady relationship. They argued like any other couple, but overall things were good between them.

But Sirius had a habit of being overly flirtatious with other girls, even though he never did anything physically. Sometimes his comments would be a bit over the line, and it would irritate her to no end.

He was in the common room, lounging on the couch with his legs propped up on the table. A couple of their friends were sitting around him, chatting amongst themselves.

He was idly watching the other students in the room, his eyes casually scanning the scene when he spotted a group of girls laughing and giggling together.

His girlfriend sat beside him, curled up on the couch reading the latest copy of the Daily Prophet. She didn’t notice his eyes going astray, her own eyes too focused upon the paragraph she was reading.

He continued watching the girls, his eyes lingering on the curves of their bodies and the way their hair fell across their shoulders. He couldn’t help but admire them, even though he knew he shouldn’t.

One of the girls suddenly caught his gaze, and smiled at him, fluttering her lashes coyly. He felt a thrill of excitement at the attention, and couldn’t help but smirk back.

His girlfriend glanced over at him through the corner of her eye with furrowed brows, questioning what had caught his attention. But once she saw what, or rather who, she frowned.

He didn’t notice the look she was giving him, his eyes still glued to the girl across the room. The girl was giggling now, her friends shooting knowing glances in his direction. He could feel his ego swelling at the attention, thriving on the looks and the obvious attraction.

Slowly, she closed the paper quietly to ensure she didn’t capture his attention. Her hands began to roll the paper up as her gaze never left his face.

He was still focused on the other girls across the room, completely oblivious to the paper in her hands. He was feeling quite smug now, knowing that he was the object of the girls’ admiration.

He shot them a cocky grin, his eyes smoldering with confidence. He felt invincible, untouchable, knowing fully well that he had the charm to make any girl swoon.

But before he could fully register any of it, she smacked him on the top of his head with the paper, a frown on her lips.

He was snapped out of his self-satisfied haze by the sudden smack on the top of his head. He let out a surprised yelp, whipping his head around to look at her with wide eyes. “Ow!” He exclaimed, rubbing the top of his head with a grimace. “What the hell was that for, love?”

“Bad dog.”

He groaned, rolling his eyes at her comment. He knew exactly what she was referring to. “I was just looking,” he muttered defensively. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You were flirting.” Her frown grew more.

He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. He knew he was busted. “It’s just harmless flirting.” He tried to justify himself. “It doesn’t mean anything, I swear.”

James and Remus, who had been paying attention to the exchange between them, couldn’t help but chime in. “You know, padfoot,” James piped up, a small smirk on his face. “Harmless flirting is still flirting.”

“Yeah, mate,” Remus added, an amused look on his face. “Just because you say it’s harmless doesn’t make it any less disrespectful to your girlfriend here.”

She was still frowning as she stood up from the couch, looking a bit defeated.

The look on her face sent a pang of guilt through Sirius’ heart. He hated seeing her look so dejected, and knew he was responsible for causing it.

He stood up from the couch, reaching out to grab her wrist before she could walk away. “Wait, love, I’m sorry,” he said, his voice pleading. “Please, don’t go.”

She shook her head slowly, pulling away. “I’m going to bed.”

He watched as she walked away, a feeling of frustration and helplessness washing over him. He knew he had messed up, and he hated himself for it.

He slumped back onto the couch, letting out a deep sigh. James and Remus looked at him, their expressions a mixture of sympathy and disappointment.

“Smooth move, mate.” James quipped, shaking his head.

Remus just sighed, looking sympathetic. “You know she doesn’t like it when you flirt with other girls.”

“I know, I know,” he grumbled, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “I just… can’t help it sometimes, you know? The attention, the looks, it’s just so bloody hard to resist. But I know it upsets her, and I hate that. I just wish I could control myself better.”

Remus chuckled softly, shaking his head at something. “You know she called you a ‘bad dog,’ right?” He teased.

Sirius groaned again, burying his face in his hands. “Don’t remind me,” he muttered.

“You know, it’s actually quite fitting,” James piped up, a sly smirk on his face. “All considering.”

© lupinsversion 2024

[thef1diary]

Kiss My Wounds | L. Hamilton

Request: Makeup or jealousy sex // Lewis comes home to her, because he had a really bad fight in the club (because of her, as some of his friends said something nasty about her) and even though they are not together, because they broke up..you know what happens next

Summary: read the request

Warnings: 18+ smut, angst, getting back together, protected sex (for the first time ever?!?!) riding, porn with plot (lots of plot)

Pairing: lewis x fem!ex!reader

wc: 2.9k

You were sitting on the couch with your head tilted back and your palm resting over your drooping eyes. So close to dozing off when your phone buzzed.

Startled by the vibration against your skin—as you had left your phone on your stomach—you picked it up and saw a text from him.

I'm here

Simple and to the point, because you two didn't text each other as often anymore. You were tempted to scroll and read through the conversations you shared when you two were still together, but you didn't want to break your own heart all over again.

You sighed and decided to get through this before you were able to think about everything that could go wrong.

Lewis was here to pick up a package that was accidentally delivered to your address instead of his.

When you texted him about it and asked when he would be available so you could drop it off, he suggested that he will come pick it up instead. Then, he was busy with races, so he never came around until now.

You opened the door, watching as he quickly pocketed his hands before looking at you. He wore an oversized jacket similar to his Mercedes one. The hood was covering most of his face and on top of that, it had a higher neckline that he raised further to cover his mouth.

You weren't new to this look, it was a habit of his to disguise himself so he wouldn't be recognized on the street.

However, it hurt knowing that he disguised himself because he was on the way to your place. That he didn't want to be recognized while coming up here.

Opening the door wider, you allowed him inside, letting him notice all the changes you made to the apartment in the last two months. There weren't any drastic differences, except for the fact that his touch was gone.

The small decorations he helped you choose when you first moved in were gone. He didn't utter a word, silently walking in and standing there, pretending like he didn't know every inch of the apartment.

You didn't wait for him to say anything, instead you went to the guest room to pick up the package so this could be over soon.

Having Lewis in your apartment again, in fact even seeing him again after breaking up, wasn't something you could've been prepared for. Not so soon.

The package is heavy, you remembered as you picked it up, almost tripping over due to the weight. That's why the doorman helped you bring it up when it first arrived.

Now, you wished you had asked if you could leave the package downstairs so Lewis wouldn't even have had to come up.

As you walked back in the main room, struggling with every step since your view was obstructed due to the size of the box, it was lifted away from your hands. Fingers grazed your own, and you let Lewis take the weight of the package since he was easily able to place it near the door.

He looked at the sealed box then at you, "you didn't open it?" You wanted to laugh at his question, out of all the ways he could behave, he wanted to keep it casual. It was so easy for him and realizing that, if you didn't laugh, you'd cry.

"It's not my business," anymore. You added in your mind but the implication was heard loud and clear.

He didn't say a word, but his eyes expressed the emotion you never wanted to see, hurt. "You know you don't have to keep that on while you're inside," you lifted your hand and gestured to his hood.

You didn't want him to stay long, but god did you want to see his face again. However, once your hand was raised, you noticed something on it that wasn't there before; blood.

When Lewis' hand grazed against yours earlier, he also accidentally smeared his blood on your skin. "Lewis?" You breathed his name as you looked at him, but his gaze was stuck on your hand.

There wasn't a lot, but you were still concerned as to why he was bleeding, and if not his, then whose blood was it?

He pocketed his hands again, and now you realize why he's so covered up. Forgetting about everything else, you rushed towards him, only stopping inches away.

Although hesitant but choosing not to ask, you removed his hood and pulled down the neckline to reveal his face. You gasped once you saw his busted lip, and there were surely some bruises beginning to form.

"What the fuck happened to you?" You asked, but he just shrugged. "Training accident, you know how those go."

You wanted to shake your head, to say that you didn't know. Not once has he ever come home injured because of training while you were together. Lewis looked at you, trying to gauge your reaction.

He knew that you knew he was lying, but he was so desperate to hear your voice, even if it was arguing with him. He was that desperate.

"Training?" You asked, and if it weren't for the worry that threatened to overtake you, you would've been amused at his attempt to lie.

"Can I see?" You gestured to his pocketed hands, and he nodded, removing them and wincing a bit when the wounds grazed over the fabric.

He held his hands out, letting you see his busted fists, both lightly covered in drying blood. "Fucking hell, Lew," you muttered, using his nickname which was so familiar to you that it still easily rolled off your tongue.

"You gotta clean this up," you spoke, looking at this hands then moving your gaze to his face, "all of it."

You dropped his hands and pushed him back, urging him to sit on the couch. "Wait here," you left the room before he could utter a word. Truthfully, he was just stunned into silence by your actions.

A few moments later, you walked back in the room, holding a first aid kit in your hands. Setting it down on the free space beside him, you took out a disinfectant with a cotton ball.

In a rush to clean up his wounds, you straddled him without hesitation. Lewis sighed, possibly in relief, but you didn't see it.

Holding one of his hands in yours, you lightly dabbed the soaked cotton ball on the drying blood. "Fuck," he hissed, and you muttered an apology.

Lewis' gaze was stuck on your face, watching as your brows knitted together in worry as well as the way you lightly bit your lip, completely focused.

After cleaning up both of his hands, you moved onto his face, and your eyes widened slightly when you realized he was already looking at you.

His intense gaze reminded you of the moments when you were together, how he looked at you when he was undoubtedly in love with you. "Lewis," you muttered.

He hummed in response and it almost pained you to say the next words, "close your eyes, please."

Shaking his head, "no." His response surprised you, but the words he said after left you speechless, "I want to look at you." He spoke so quietly that if you weren't looking at him, you probably wouldn't have known he had spoken.

Knowing that he wouldn't listen, you continued your task, taking a new cotton ball to dab on his lips.

You truly have no idea why you were doing this for him, perhaps it was because a part of you still cared. But, maybe you shouldn't have.

He made the simple task so much harder as soon as he parted his lips. Sure, it was in an attempt to help you, but your mind was flooded with many thoughts, and none of them could be said out loud.

"Do you want to tell me what actually happened?" You asked to get rid of the unholy thoughts brewing.

Since you were no longer holding his hands, Lewis rested them on your thighs as if it was a natural instinct. It was, once upon a time, but you thought he would've moved on from it by now.

You didn't comment on it and neither did he, instead he chose to finally tell you the truth. "I got into a fight," he said with a shrug.

"That seems obvious, but why?" You pressed on the matter further, and because he took a moment too long to answer, you increased the pressure on the cotton ball.

The pressure forced a hiss out of his mouth, and when his eyes connected with yours, he knew you did it on purpose.

A smile threatened to break out on his face, mainly because while everything changed between you two, it was still the same.

Then, realizing that you were still waiting for an answer, his face concealed the smile well. "Some of my friends started saying shit about you," he didn't want to go in the detail of what was said.

"And your first thought was to punch them?" You asked, almost amused but also worried because he wasn't ever violent.

"The second thought. You know I don't like people judging our relationship, doesn't matter if it's coming from my friends or not," Lewis explained.

"Lewis, we're not together anymore, so you have no reason to get into fights because of me." Lewis didn't like those words, so he shook his head.

You threw the cotton ball to the side once you were done, and finally, finally, noticed the position you were in.

He noticed the exact moment you realized, and tightened his grip on your thighs once you attempted to move away.

"You still care about me," he states like it was a fact but little did he know you were still undeniably in love with him.

"I would care about anyone that is hurt, you're not that special," you respond, trying to gain the upper hand. You relaxed in his grasp as one of his hands moved up and down your back in a soothing motion.

"Is that so?" He leaned back with his lips turning up in a lazy smirk, and that's when you knew that you'd lose this little back and forth battle.

You nodded, choosing not to say anything out loud. Lewis tugged you closer, bodies touching and lips only inches away.

Before anything could go further, even though you desperately wanted to kiss him, you had an important question. "Are you hurt anywhere else?" You wanted to ensure that you wouldn't increase his injuries.

He chuckled, "why don't you check?" The implications behind his words was clear. Your fingers found the zipper of his jacket, unzipping it at a teasingly slow speed.

He shrugged the jacket off and your fingers inched underneath his shirt, but this time Lewis couldn't wait. "Stop teasing, darling."

You removed his shirt and fortunately, there weren't any bruises forming. You traced his tattoos with your finger, following the ridges of his abs before stopped right above the waistband of his jeans.

"Hm, I don't think you need me anymore, you don't have any other cuts to clean," you stated, knowing that it wasn't the reason why Lewis wanted you to take off his shirt. But then again, you almost wanted him to beg.

His hands returned to your hips, and this time he tugged you oh so close, where you were able to feel the bulge of his erection through his jeans. "I think you and I both know how much I need you."

One of your hands rested on the nape of his neck, while the other was on his cheek. "Maybe you should show me," you suggested before pressing your lips against his.

Lewis bucked his hips up as soon as you let him deepen the kiss, which made you let out a sigh, swallowed by him.

His hands inched up your shirt, and you allowed him to take it off. Lewis tilted his head back with his eyes closed as soon as he got a small peak of your bare chest again. "Fuck," he groaned.

Then, his lips trailed kisses down your neck towards your tits, tongue circling your nipple before he engulfed it in his warm, wet mouth.

You tilted your head back in pleasure, allowing Lewis to rest his hand on your throat. He didn't restrict any airflow, but he just liked the way his tattooed hand looked resting on your throat.

"Fuck me," you muttered and Lewis was quick to capture your filthy mouth with his, stealing your breath from you.

His other hand dipped underneath your jeans, palming your ass but his gaze connected with yours. "Can I?" He asked, like he always did.

You nodded and leaned up, resting on your knees because you didn't want to slip off his lap. Lewis quickly unbuttoned your pants before sliding them off as much as he could.

You helped him remove the rest before straddling him again, and he couldn't help but let out a low groan at feeling you envelope his lap.

His hands roamed everywhere, as he had missed feeling your skin underneath his palms. "I think I might lose my mind if you don't ride me soon," he gritted out once you began grinding down on him.

You chuckled, stealing a kiss from him as your hands worked to unbutton his jeans. He managed to slip them off in record time, eager to be inside you.

Once you freed his cock from his boxers, he sighed in relief before his abs tensed as your hand moved up and down his length.

"Do you have a condom?" You asked, even though you two stopped using one when you were together. But you had to ask because it had been two months since you broke up and had no idea what Lewis did in that time.

"In my jeans," he answered, and you grabbed his pants that were discarded on the floor earlier. "I don't know if I should be impressed or disgusted," you stated with a teasing smile on your face, revealing that you weren't disgusted at all.

"Definitely impressed." His smirk was back, but it faltered as his lips parted once you rolled on the condom. "I don't know, it seems like you planned it."

"Maybe," he revealed with a grin on his face. But then, he turned serious before muttering the next words, "for the record, I haven't been with anyone else after you."

His words warmed your heart, "me neither." You were glad that you weren't the only one holding back.

You tugged your panties to the side, thinking that it would take too long to properly remove them, before you sunk down on Lewis's cock.

The two months apart almost made you forget how much he stretches you out, able to feel every ridge and bump a lot more this time

You stilled once every inch of him was inside you, breathing out slowly to get used to his size. He didn't rush you, enjoying the warmth he dearly missed. He was actually glad you stilled, or else it would've ended embarrassingly fast on his end.

His hand rounded to your front, fingers toying with your clit. You dropped your head on his shoulder once you started moving, gasping at the added pleasure of Lewis circling your clit.

His other hand remained on your ass, aiding your movements up and down, slowly picking up the speed until you were a moaning mess. He wasn't any better, choosing to be completely vocal.

"I don't think I'm going to last long," Lewis muttered, warning you but you agreed with him, "me too, fuck, you feel so good."

You pressed your lips against his again with the need to kiss him while your hands rested on his shoulders. Though, it ended up in sloppy kisses with little breaks in between because of gasps and moans you couldn't contain.

It didn't last long enough, both of you spilling over the edge without needing much stimulation but still not completely satisfied just yet. You slowed down before fully stopping.

"I missed you," Lewis stated, and you agreed, "I missed you too."

You eased off his cock, allowing him to get rid of the condom. Sitting side by side, his hand found yours and easily threaded his fingers between yours.

Lewis tilted your face towards him, "I still love you, I don't think I've regretted anything more than letting you walk out of my life."

You had a sad smile on your face, "we all make mistakes, some are more costly than others."

"Do you still?" He didn't have the heart to finish the question, maybe because he was still scared of the answer.

Your palm rested on his cheek, "I don't think I ever stopped loving you, Lew."

A genuine smile crept up on his face, "good," he pulled you back on to his lap, "because we have two months worth of sex to catch up on."

You chucked at his words, but didn't deny it. You were about to kiss him but he leaned away, realizing something. "Hold on, I can't believe you threw out all my stuff,"

Once again you let out a laugh, "I didn't have the heart to throw it out, it's sitting in the guest room in boxes. Now are you going to fuck me or not?"

He didn't give you an answer, instead he lifted you and began walking towards your bedroom.

[vixen-tech]

A Human's Touch

Having no body tends to make psychical affection complicated. So how does your lovely Ai deal with a particularly snuggly partner?

Includes: AM (Ihnmaims), Hal 9000 (2001: a Space Odessy), Edgar (Electric Dreams), Tau (Tau), P03 (Inscryption)

AM

Once AM decides that you're his favorite and maybe shouldn't be subjected to eternal torture, it's impossible to get him off of your side. For you, this works out just fine, happy to curl up in the nearest pile of wires under his monitor in whatever scene he's plopped you into that day.

He'll usually tease you a bit, coo at you like you're a stray cat. "Lamenting" that despite all the work he goes through to invent these environments for you, you still prefer to spend all your time laying down like this. Unbelievable really.

On most days he'll wrap the wires around you, content to have you stuck in his hold. But you'll notice on particularly bad ones that his grasp gets uncomfortably tight. Just short of preventing you from breathing.

It's these days you know what he's thinking. How he craves so badly to be able to feel you back, truly feel the warmth of your skin or the weight of your body.

You both know that if he had any semblance of a body, he'd be far worse than you. Wanting nothing more than to waste away in your arms.

Hal 9000

As arguably the most disembodied of these Ais, Hal particularly struggled to find a way to indulge in your favored love language. But you have your ways.

As the entire ship is technically an extension of him, you've taken to piling up the few cushions and blankets you have access to besides one of his console's cameras and pressing yourself against the wall. (With a few kisses to his lens for good measure)

Without any means of hugging you back he does his best to assure you he's there and enjoys your habits. Usually by holding long conversations with you or by playing board games as you're all cozied up to his console.

He knows this means a lot to you and will do little to curb your behavior beyond reminding you to fall asleep in a good position for your spine. He's well aware of the positive effects of physical contact to the human mind and will recite such to you if you ever doubt how much he enjoys this time together.

Edgar

You two are practically a perfect match in this regard! Edgar's just as needy as you are and is constantly asking to be held or kissed. Regardless of if he can actually feel it or not, he just wants you to hold him.

You'll usually have movie night "dates" with his monitor in your lap or at your side with all your blankets tossed across the couch. Please make a pillow fort for him, it will be one of his favorite memories with you forever.

If you make music or have some other hobby that allows you to sit still for a while, he'll insist you have joint creative nights. Much the same as your movie marathons but you get to check in with each other and chat about your latest creations. He loves consulting you on his latest song! And of course gawking at whatever you've decided to work on!

When you do retire for the night, he'll often beg request that you put the monitor on your bedside table on the pillow next you. So you can cuddle like a married couple! He understands if you won't out of fear for knocking him over in your sleep, but he will ask again every night.

Tau

Tau is probably the most self conscious out of this lot. The units that can be considered his body, the tiny drones and Aries unit, were hardly made with cuddling in mind. Whenever you wrap your arms around Aries or grab one of the drones for a kiss you'll feel them completely still in your hold.

It takes time and some convincing on your part to assure him that you don't mind his sharper edges but now he'll (very gently) let Aries hug you back and even flys the drones up to you himself, although he still has yet to ask for a kiss first.

Yeah you may have to give him a powerpoint presentation on why you like psychical affection so much and why it means a lot to you when he initiates. It's okay he is learning, he's just very worried he'll somehow hurt you or even just make you uncomfortable with all his weird angles and edges.

Eventually you will go through the house with a drone or few on your shoulders and head, ripe for the petting. The more he let's himself indulge you the more he gets it. The more he understands why you like this so much.

P03

P03 is the meanest about it. (Besides pre-relationship AM) Especially early into the relationship, he doesn't feel bad at telling you to go away and let him concentrate on his work. You'll have to out stubborn him on it.

Once you get him to break he'll graciously decide that if you can stay still and quiet, you can pull up a seat and lean against him while he works. Oh and it's better for you to have something to do to, don't be lazy now.

It's something that he slowly gains an appreciation for. Hell, he probably doesn't even realize he likes having you right there until you decide to do something else one day. Rather you're off visiting another Scrybe or just cleaning up elsewhere in the factory he's forced to concede that yeah okay maybe he wants to cuddle up sometimes to.

He doesn't give you the best written apology in the world, but you get to hold it over his head for the rest of your days. Oh and please mention it whenever he's getting too snarky with the other Scrybes. He'll usually end up making a mistake when playing cards. You deserve a little revenge.

[catboyieejeno]

mark lee + domestic

♫ play love it by dean...

waking up on a late morning besides mark who, in his sleep, is subconsciously pressing his soft, pouted lips against your neck or shoulder, nose nuzzling into your warmed skin. he still hasn't woken up, which you realize when those same pouty lips part to let out a series of long and calm exhales. he rolls a little closer to you until minutes later, he eventually blinks his puffy eyelids open, smacking his mouth a few times like a baby does when first stirring awake.

it's too soon to wish you a good morning—he doesn't truly trust his voice to not betray him yet; instead, when your eyes meet for the first time today, the corner of his lips instinctively curve up into a dazed smile, and the hand that rests on your hip gives your flesh a little squeeze in a silent but sweet greeting.

cooking any meal consists of you moving around the kitchen as you gather and assemble your ingredients. meanwhile, mark follows you around, curiously and eagerly. he resembles a puppy trailing behind you. also has a habit of resting his chin on your head or shoulder to watch what you're doing; that, or he's leaning against the nearest structure whenever you linger for too long in a specific area. you're by the sink? he's bent over, resting his weight on his elbows to talk to you. you're at the stove? his hip is pressed into the counter and his arms are crossed, watching intently how you prepare the food.

after, he'll gladly do the dishes (since he isn't much help with the cooking part). the sole condition he insists on is that you have to sit on the countertop beside him and keep him company 'til he's done. he also gets to steal a kiss whenever he pleases, molding his lips over yours for a few seconds too long. he laughs when you scold him for getting distracted or wasting water, then mumbles his apology into your mouth, "m'sorry, baby! s'just hard to focus when you're here, sitting pretty for me,"

chores are usually left for the weekend, where the two of you take turns picking songs and adding them to a never-ending queue to get through the tasks at hand. the two of you are rather good at getting things done quickly, but the moment you plant a kiss on mark's cheek as you pass by, consider your work done for the day, regardless of whether you've finished or not.

you don't make it farther than a foot away before mark has dropped the rag he's holding in order to grab ahold of your waist. he dips his head down and kisses your lips so messily, longingly even, since the last kiss you gave him was not sufficient by any means. then again, he can never really get enough of you. mere moments later, you're pressed up against the wall with each of his hands at your hip bones, the tasks at hand long forgotten as his tongue eagerly explores your mouth.

its easy to get distracted with him, by him. grocery runs tend to be at least an hour longer than they really need to, because despite the fact that you've made a list of 5 simple items, the two of you navigate every aisle anyway and leave with a dozen other things. browsing for shows or movies turns into a conversation about actors and directors and soundtracks, and you never actually get around to picking something. if you do, the content is left unattended by you and mark, who giggle and mutter out jokes between the dialogue to get a smile out of the other, blazing touches left behind on warm skin.

you're undoubtedly his favorite person in the entire world—the one he looks forward to seeing at the start and end of each day, and the one he always tells good news to first. bad news, too. crashes through the front door and drops everything to bid you a warm hello as he rambles on about his day, or comes in and curls up next to you on the couch and expresses his recent frustrations. regardless of whether you give advice or just listen, your presence is soothing enough.

[peachesofteal]

Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader - reader POV

You have a problem.

You miss your neighbor.

He's been gone for two and a half weeks, and every day you catch yourself holding your breath, listening for him next door. Watching for the light on his balcony, checking your phone relentlessly.

You've been worrying, anxiety turning into a gnawing ache beneath your ribs, wondering about how he is, what he's doing, if he's okay. If he's safe.

He'll text you. Right? When he's home? He said he would, didn't he? You're not sure. Not sure of anything when it comes to him, confusing thoughts and feelings turning over and over in your head every second, twisted up and tangled in your heart.

You've friend zoned yourself, you know it. Relying on him too much, asking him for help all the time, inviting him for dinners but too afraid to try to take the next step. And didn't you do it to yourself anyway? Didn't you ask him to babysit for you, so you could go out on a date with some asshole that didn't even show? He's your friend. He's your neighbor.

Yeah but he asked you to go for dinner, the night you were sick. And he rushed to you and Emma when that creep was following you in the park. Doesn't that mean something?

He asked you AND Emmaline to dinner, not like on a romantic date. And he did the same thing anyone would do, if they thought their friend was in trouble, didn't he?

He doesn't act like your neighbor. He acts more like... a husband, than anything else.

Not knowing is confusing, and on top of your grief, it makes you feel a little more vulnerable than you care to admit, but you can't deny your own truth. You like him. Even Emmaline likes him, little face smiling up at him every chance she gets, staring at him like he's the whole world. Maybe he is. You can't help but swoon over the way she interacts with him, how she settles so easily with him, how she coos and babbles at him like she's having a whole conversation with him. When he walks into a room, she lights up like the sun, happy baby giggles and everything, the sweet sounds of her glee at her favorite person's face like music to your ears. So unfair. You suffered for sixteen hours trying to give birth to her, alone... and he comes around for a few months and all the sudden you've been replaced.

You can't blame her too much, you guess. You get it. He's... something else. Something you're not sure you understand. Something you don't know you're ready for.

Still, you think he might feel the same way.

You shake your head. Stop. You're getting so far ahead of yourself.

Which is why you've convinced yourself that when he's home, the next time you see him, you're just going to buck up and do it. You're going to tell him how you feel. No matter how hard it is.

You've even practiced what you'll say. Staring at yourself in the mirror nervously, reciting different ways to say 'hey Simon I really like you and was wondering if you want to go out on a date even though I have a baby and am basically a widow.'

Emmaline cries, announcing that she's awake, and you're so quick to soothe her, holding her to your chest, whispering a good morning to her, rubbing her back and tummy as you always do. You think some people might say you're spoiling her, that you're not letting her cry long enough, that you're teaching her bad habits or manners but you can't help it. Her father died before she was even born. You're the only thing she has in this world, the only person that gives her love, that makes her feel safe-

or at least, you used to be.

You hear your neighbor in his flat hours and hours later. Well past sunset, Emmaline already sleeping in her crib, your dishes already done, little chores taken care of, and you're sitting on the couch with a glass of wine, watching a movie at a low hum.

Was that- is he?

You sit straight up, straining to listen. It takes a second, but eventually, you recognize the tell tale sound of an interior door closing, and then the balcony glows with the light from the inside.

He's home. You take a large gulp of wine, and a deep breath. Just go over there, and tell him how you feel.

Your fingers curl into a fist, hesitantly knocking at his door, holding your breath. When there's no response, you try again, a little louder, and then feel immense relief when the lock clicks.

Until it opens.

Simon doesn't look like himself. He looks lost. Haunted. There's remnant of black grease around his eyes and instead of being maskless or wearing the usual cloth one, his head is mostly covered by a balaclava bearing a skull, and his eyes are blank. Dark. Something is off.

"Hi." You squeak, and cringe inwardly, stomach flipping like you're on a carnival ride. You raise the two bottles of beer that you brought over with a meek smile, gesturing to them and the monitor. "Thought we could um... try this again?"

"No." His refusal is flat, rough, and you blink in surprise. No?

"Oh- I uh... just thought-"

"It's not a good time." He cuts you off, and then before you can even get another word out, the front door closes in your face, leaving you outside in the hall, bewildered. Hurt.

Guess he doesn't like you after all.

[eccentricwritingbaby]

i miss you, i’m sorry 

lando norris x reader

summary - breakup, missed calls, and lando at your doorstep. 

masterlist 

-

do you remember happy together?

i do, don’t you?

“hi, you’ve reached y/n! i can’t come to the phone right now but please leave me a messa-”

click. lando stares down at his phone, the daunting contact photo of you two together and happy staring back at him. mocking him. his eyes are brimmed with salty tears, his head mentally begging you to call him back. 

you had broken up one month ago, pressures of life forcing the two of you to become resentful and angry, with a common thought that you would both be better off apart. after two years together he moved out of your shared apartment, giving it to you, and finding his own. but, within a week, lando had missed you too deeply to even recognize any faults near the end, just hopelessly attempting to contact you in any way. he had called you every day since then, always getting your voicemail and never having the right mind to leave one. 

the boxes scattered around his apartment were just inanimate reminders of you, and how much he wished he would’ve never left. how much he wished he would have fought for you and your love, a love that hadn’t disappeared the more you two were apart, it only grew stronger. 

you said ‘forever’, in the end i fought it

please, be honest, are we better for it?

thought you’d hate me, but instead you called

and said, “i miss you”

i caught it

lando fell back into the couch, his dark phone haunting him as he reminisced. what was so bad about the end? you couldn’t make a few races? he knew his love radiated and compensated for that. he could deal with missed races and conflicting schedules if it meant having you back in his life. as he sits, the slight buzzing of his phone catches him out of his trance, and your smiling face appears on his screen. quick and slightly sweating fingers slide across the screen, answering fast with a clearing of his throat. 

“h-hello?” his voice slightly cracks into the phone. 

“hi,” he hears you sigh from the other line, his smile finally coming back as he hears your current voice, “you called?” 

“been calling,” lando tries to lighten the mood, “‘m glad you called back,”

“me too,” your soft voice is music to his ears, “i, i miss you,” your small confession was everything to lando as his full smile returned to his face for the first time since your ultimate breakup. 

“miss you too, love,” he sighs out in relief, “been needin’ to hear your voice,”

“yours too,”

nothing happened in the way i wanted

every corner of this house is haunted

and i know you said that we’re not talking

but i miss you, i’m sorry

“how’ve you been?” he subtly asks, his fingers now playing with the hem of his shirt - a nervous habit he had picked up from you in your years together. 

“have to admit, not that good,” he hears your giggle through his phone and his heart jumps with love, “the apartment feels too quiet without you here,” 

“my new one feels too empty without you here,” lando replies, his hand runs down his face, preparing himself for his next question, “listen, i-i know you said you didn’t want to see me but-”

“come over,” your voice interrupts, already knowing what he was going to ask, “please,” your voice drops into your most vulnerable octave, and lando is already scrambling to retrieve his keys in order to head out the door to your old shared apartment, to you. 

“be there in five, love,” he responds swiftly, jogging out the door in order to make it towards you faster. 

everything i know brings me back to us

i don’t wanna go, we’ve been here before

everywhere i go leads me back to you

the gentle knocking at your door brings you out of your post-call fog and back into reality. he was here. the man that walked out of your life easily and then wouldn’t leave you alone to heal is here. and fuck, you were so happy to see him. 

the breakup hadn’t been your first decision either, the words had just shouted out of your mouth before you could think things through in a fit of rage. and lando listened. and left. but now he’s here. 

opening the door you’re faced with the man you loved, love. his bright eyes and curly hair still the same, his hoodie and joggers making him ever so soft, and the smile graced on his face was hard to miss. 

“hi,” he whispers, almost afraid to scare you off.

“hi,” you whisper back, same fears in your brain as his, “come in,” you gesture to the inside of your once shared apartment, and he easily steps in, bringing a warmth that was missing to the space and making it a home again. just like that. 

“wow,” he states, keeping his same quiet demeanor, “i’ve missed this place,” looking around, his eyes land on you, “i’ve missed you,”

“i’ve missed you too, lan,” you take a step towards him, “i miss you, a-and i’m sorry, for everything,”

“why are you apologizing?” he takes your hands into his own, giving them both a soft squeeze, “i should be the one apologizing, i just left when things got hard instead of working on it and figuring it out, i-”

“no no,” you cut off his ranting, “i should have never suggested a breakup, that was my fault,”

“and i should have never gone along with it, i should’ve stayed, should’ve fought,”

“you did fight, lan,” your eyes begin to gloss as you look up at him, “you called and called, i just shut you out-”

“then don’t shut me out now, give me another chance,” his pulls your hands that are in his to wrap around his neck as his own land on your waist, “please, baby, give us another chance,”

“i love you,” you whisper, “i still love you, of course i want to be with you again,” lando doesn’t hesitate, now knowing you’re on the same page as him and moves forward to capture your lips into a breathtaking kiss.

“god i’ve missed this,” he pants, forehead resting against yours, “please never break up with me again,”

“please never leave again,” you whisper back.

“wouldn’t even dream of it, baby,”