thinking about wife!reader and nanami in the showerā¦
note: a little something until i post my full fic / not proofread!
noticing how tired he is when coming home, you two immediately hop into the shower together.
warm water running down both of your bodies, his sighs of relief as the warmth of you and the water hit him. he could die happy right then and right there. but the one that puts him over the edge, something that absolutely makes him collapse is when you decide to wash his hair for him. he was reaching for the shampoo but you took his hand, ever the doting wife and decided to do it for him.
a small ālet me take care of you.ā as you kiss the smaller part of his back. turning around, he hands it to you, lowering himself so you can reach his hair comfortably not worrying about the awkward angle heās now put himself in.
as youāre running the product through his hair youāre humming softly, a small piece of your tongue protruding out from your mouth out of pure focus. god he wants to pick you up right then and there and take you. but heās a patient man, heās waited all this time to have you, whatās one shower. āyouāre so good to me.ā he says, grabbing your hips to steady himself and you laugh, heās always been one for dramatics as if you havenāt done more than this for him.
āyouāre sweet.ā you reply in a joking tone, messaging his head you hear him let out some soft grunts, your fingers intertwined in his blonde tresses sudsing him up. you didnāt know it then but you both felt so incredibly loved in that moment, almost as if you fit so well into each other ā like long lost puzzle pieces that finally found their way back to one another.
and when youāre done, rinsing it all out. holding one hand over his eyes to keep the shampoo from hitting them and the other on the shower nozzle itās like he doesnāt want to let you go. youāre practically pulling his arms from around you. he gets up slowly, kissing your inner thighs, hips, stomach all the way till he reaches your lips.
caressing your face he mutters something under his breath you donāt quite catch. āwhat would i do without you my love.ā
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iām thinking freshly dumped season 2 stevieā¦ heās just so angry and upset and canāt believe nancy called him bullshit.
it feels worse than anything thatās ever been spat at him before. worse than how his father hits. worse than how his mama wails. worse than losing tommy and carol.
itās just worse.
heās angry all the time. brooding. the smallest thing sets him off. his tongue is a knife. heās starting to act like his father. he thinks he might die. he canāt believe he let a girl get under his skin like that.
he loved her. loves her. whatever.
and now heās helping unwatched bratty kids with a stupid lizardā¦ whose name is apparently dart and ate a cat. yikes.
and then thereās youāwho finds this all just a little funnyā¦ and steve thinks thereās nothing funny about you. he canāt stand you.
you might as well be carol perkins.
alright, thatās a lie. and kinda not fair. youāre a year younger than him, yet you seem so much older. you walk good on your feet without ever tripping up. youāve got snake eyes and vixen smiles and dazzling hands. mini skirts and tights and such plain tops that you make look so effortless. the kids love you. worship you. this max girl canāt stop looking at you. even when youāre carrying a bucket of raw meat you just lookā¦ good.
great.
youāve got a tongue on you and every time you open your mouth, steve thinks his head might explode. you drive him fuckinā crazy. youāre smarter than him. cooler than him. more popular than him. youāre a cheerleader. youāre captain. you have so many friendsā¦. and well, you havenāt peaked in high school. this is just you. youāre just ace.
you just appeared on steveās lawn standing on the back of dustin hendersonās bike like some city girl princessā¦ and steve swears his heart stopped. he could not handle more shit. not you. not dustin. not some cat eating lizard.
but heās not a dick. not anymore.
so, here he is with his bat and raw meat and kids and you in a rotted car junkyard.
and dustin just opened his smartass mouth again. steve swears his head is killing him. he will explodeā
ājeez, harry, tell me youāre not about to hit a child with a baseball bat? that oneās got nails in it, sweetheart.ā
here you fucking go.
steveās jaw clicks and he all but practically slams meat from his gloved fist into the ground. your pour your bucket over his starting pile with a very teasing smile. how can you be soā¦?
āgod,ā his tone is all bite. āitās harrington. can you not follow me everywhere.ā
he swears your smile brightens. you enjoy this, killing him. you are just so mean. ānot following, harry. iām hovering. thereās a difference.ā
the meat between you two makes a sick sound. his jaw ticks. he dumps his bucket. he doesnāt remember you being this annoying last year when he fought a dog like demon.. but he was still with nance, so he wasnāt paying attention to much but her.
he looks over at you. your hair in a pony. a front piece hangs and dances across your cheek. the suns setting and you glow. he swallows hard.
āever the starer, arenāt you?ā
his eyes snap to yours, focus on you. youāre still smiling. he decides he full on hates you. āhas anyone ever told you how insufferable you are?ā
you smile wider. āharry, thatās so sweet.ā
thatās itā
his lips part but nothing comes out as dustin calls for you somewhere along the junkyard. you spin on your heel, bucket dropping next to your feet. you hum, call back. your voice all sweet and sickly for kids. you yank off your gloves and toss them into your empty bucketāfor steve to pick up. of course.
your eyes land on his. heās glaring so hard. you beam, scrunch your nose and lean towards him a bit. you surprise him when you push some of his hair behind his ear and push up his sunglasses into his hair a bit more. āyou should smile more, harry. you are such a sweetheart after all.ā your finger skates along his cheekbone as you go.
he shivers. and frowns.
his glare drops. he canāt say anything. he has nothing to say.
maybe youāre not mean. maybe youāre justā¦ i donāt know.
HONEY!READER who's too gullible for her own good. she's always falling into traps and getting lured into dangerous situations. she just can't help it. she doesn't know better, and she trusts absolutely everyone at first sight. people are constantly calling her dumb, stupid, and useless as they watch her make bad mistakes.
HONEY!READER who's pure and soft as honey, making her the easiest punching bag. she is everything cotton headbands, yellow starbursts, gummy worms, wedges, lemon, clumsiness, and sunshine. she loves sleeping and tires easily, needing more rest than the average human.
HONEY!READERĀ who's naturally quiet and has a hard time making friends because she's socially awkward and won't speak unless spoken to. even when she is talking, she doesnāt say much, but her eyes hold every emotion she doesnāt say. you can usually find her feeding bottles to kittens and lambs.Ā
šā”Ė ŪāĖā.š mindgames
šā”Ė ŪāĖā.š unfamiliar feelings
šā”Ė ŪāĖā.š when honey!reader is price's sister
āiām sorry, roman..i..iām so sorry,ā you sob softly. you canāt believe youāre losing him.
his back is to you as his mind wanders about the mess heās in now. but the more he thinks about it, the more he thinks how his life isnāt ruined at all. he loves you so much. and money isnāt an issue. neither is a home. and though he was hellbent on not being a dad, he doesnāt think it sounds so bad. sure, he doesn't love other people's kids, but his kid is yours and his. and that means your baby will have your heart and essence. his pacing turns to stillness. hand caressing the back of his neck.
his aura is so much softer than before as he's turning to you, looking at what a puddle you are and how you've soaked your pretty yellow dress with your tears. it makes his chest close up and his eyes water. heās wrapping you in his arms. pressing kisses to your head. brushing tears off your face.Ā āitās ok, angel girlā¦itās ok.ā
you croak a little sound, sniffling, shaking your head no.Ā
heās nodding. āyes. yes, itās ok.ā
it was an honest mistake. he knows that. and it is the next step anyway. people in love make a family.
you're cradling your belly even though you aren't even showing yet. 'i'm sorry,' you keep telling him. 'i won't even be a good mother-
he growls, grabbing your face. 'hey, don't say that! it's not true! you're going to be the best mom!'
it all just makes you sadder. you're unsure what will kill you more - losing him or the baby. 'i'll get rid of it-
he's almost smiling, hand touching yours, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 'no, we're going to be a real family.'
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guilt. šÆ (roman godfrey x honey!reader) part two ā”
you're by roman's side, holding his hand, sometimes holding his arm. polite and quiet as ever at the charity event for The Godfrey Institute. he knows something is wrong, but he hasn't brought it up because he needs to focus on work right now. though he keeps eyeing you with that immortal gaze, part of him wondering the hell he did wrong.
he offers you a glass of champagne, and you swallow thickly, holding the cool flute in your hand. telling him how proud you are of him for all he has accomplished. when he clinks your glass against his, you fake a sip. 'be right back,' he tells you, walking off to talk to someone of importance. you watch him go, loving how he looks in that suit. loving him as a person. so strong and fearless. you wish you could be more like that.
you watch him shake the man's hand, aching to be consumed by him forever. you'd follow him anywhere. be by his side no matter what. it feels like someone is wringing out your organs from the inside, your hand trembling around the glass you're holding.
walking off to the bar, mindlessly playing with the hem of your dress, you're looking at your stomach, guilty tears trying to force their way down your cheeks. you can't believe you did this. what is going to happen to you now?
a soft, familiar embrace whisks you away to the women's restroom sometime later. he locks the door behind him. takes your face in his palms. presses a kiss to your lips. 'you look beautiful tonight,' he tells you. thumb brushing across your cheek. 'extra beautiful. you're glowing.' he's smiling at the angel before him. as if he doesn't suspect a thing.
he wakes up happy every day because of you. he feels calm during his worst moments because of you. he's damned, and you're delicate. you're his, and he's all yours.
you smile through the sickness you feel. it's all your fault. you forgot to take your birth control. and then you forgot that you forgot to take your birth control. and now you're pregnant from the man who made it very clear he doesn't ever want children.
he sits you on the sink. kissing you softly. he knows you very well. so he knows that you don't openly talk about your feelings or your thoughts. and there's only one way to get you to spill your guts.
he's placing warm, wet kisses down your throat and across your neck, hands cupping your breasts. he smells like midnight love and something earthy. 'r-roman,' you cry out softly, entirely offering him your body. he's dipping his mouth lower to kiss and suck on your nipples and you're wrapping your legs around him more, fingers wrapping around the nape of his neck, speechless. he hums softly.
pressing his clothed dick right against your lace-covered pussy, you're pressing back, already crying out for him, hands wrapping around his arms, the back of his neck. he's looking down at you. 'what's wrong?'
you nearly sob. not wanting to voice it. your eyes look incredibly pained, and he's refusing to break eye contact because he's getting closer to the truth.
you take his fingers into your mouth, sucking on them, those tears still wanting to break free. a whimper and whine caught in your throat. you don't want him to know ever. you don't want to admit it. he pulls them out and slips them into your panties, his jaw falling open.
he can feel it. you're warmer, wetter, tighter, more pliant - all at once. 'tell me what you've done, honey.'
the tears break free and you can't stop them. you're shaking your head as if your body is rejecting what's spilling out of your mouth.. 'i....i......i got pregnant,' you sob softly. 'i forgot.....i.....i....didn't take my pill.....' your hands wrap around your belly. 'but i can't kill her, roman...i can't....-
he freezes. eyes glaring down at you. 'pregnant?! you're pregnant?! we talked about this, honey!' he's exasperated, running his hand through his hair, stepping back from you. 'i can't believe you'd do this! you've ruined everything!'
when honey!reader is price's sister. šÆ (TOXIC!SIMON x HONEY!READER)
he feels inebriated, and he hasn't even started drinking yet.
he can't tear his eyes off you in your family's backyard - your yellow headband, mini plaid skirt, the way you're so proper and polite, refilling everyone's drinks, helping out as you're given tasks. gods. there's something virginal about the energy you give off, and it has him salivating.
you trust him because he knows your brother. you hear stories about him a lot. you've met him a dozen times. so when he tells you to show him to your room, you do.
it's got a view of the garden where the party is being held and aside from some fairy lights and a really comfy-looking bed, it's barren. 'need you to help me with something,' he husks, face inches from yours. he's used to midnight rendezvous, but now he's getting a taste for daytime corruption.
you're looking at his dark eyes, trying to find some warmth, but he just feels sharp and piercing. forbidding and haughty. 'your face...' you manage to speak.
he hums. 'what about it, love?'
you don't reply. you just continue to look at him, hand toying with the hem of your skirt. 'need you to do something for me, yeah?'
you're nodding, almost killing him with your watery, intense gaze.
he's putting your hands on his dick. slipping his hand between your thighs to touch your little lace panties. your eyebrows furrowing, clit throbbing, youāre spreading your legs a little wider. 'can't tell your brother.'
you're nodding. 'won't tell...'
the amount of times you've made yourself cum to the thought of him cannot be counted. one time he was over your house, and he took his mask off because he got too drunk and left it tossed there on the table. though you never got to see his face, you stole the mask and held it close as you rubbed tight little circles around your needy clit on the staircase where you were watching him earlier, tongue darting out to lick it, trying not to scream as you came harder than you ever have.
you're turning around to face the wall, lifting your skirt, and he's smirking, putting you in front of the window instead. 'better not let him see you,' he husks against your ear, yanking your panties down, and freeing himself from his pants.
heart broken meanie season two stevie strikes againā¦
heās honestly so glad nance is gone. if he had to stare at her and jonathan for one more second he was definitely going to slam his own bat into his head.
itās got nails, sweetheart.
he didnāt talk to her, nance, he couldnāt. she tried, he brushed her off. he doesnāt want to look at her or see her face. sheāsā¦ bullshit.
heāll stay mad. itās better than feeling sad.
and then thereās you, again, and the kidsāand maxās new obsession with your older teenage girl coolness. you guys are effing bench warmers right now.
tough luck for hawkins best cheerleader.
and thereās scrapes on your knees from the junkyard. steve canāt stop staring at them. heās got dirt scuffs on his jeans and everyone smells like raw meat and sweat andā¦ fear.
the kids have gone quiet in the byers house. they huddle in a corner and whisper to one another like the adults (you and steve, though you guys are barely adults) canāt hear them. you can so hear them. the boys arenāt very good whispers and max lets them know it.
the b team.
youāre standing by the byers front window, peaking past torn blinds like youāre waiting for something to come barreling at the door. steve canāt really blame you.
heās not sure what to do. itās all so quiet now. nance and jonathan gone. hopper and joyce gone.
you and steve havenāt really spoken. i mean, what does he have to say to you? before slimy looking creatures attacked at the junkyardā¦ you flirted with him, which seems more bizarre than monsters!
he also swears you almost looked a little worried for him when he offered himself up for the monstersā¦
approaching you now seems like the only thing he can do. he makes his way from the connecting kitchen and reaches you at the window. like always, not surprising, you beat him to the punch.
you donāt even glance over at him. ālike i said, harry, ever the starer.ā
jesusā
but he does stare for a moment longer, and wills himself not to bite your head off. so insufferableā you still manage to remain cool and effortless despite the other world demons somewhere in hawkins.
he glares a little, has to keep up his fight with you. āhow many times do i have to tell you. itās harrington.ā
you look over at him, that smug look, that cocky smile. you drag a chill down his spine. youāre so fun. had he ever been fun like that?
ācan i help you, harry?ā
he remembers what he was here for. his honey eyes skate down to your scuffed knees, your left one has a little bit of dried blood trailing downāit looks like it pause mid run and stayed like that.
your eyes follow his down. you frown a little and cross your arms over your chest.
āyou okay?ā he whispers, still looking down at your knees. they kinda look like they may sting when they bend.
you look up, back at his face. you loosen, just an inch. you bite at the inside of your cheek. āiām okay, harry.ā
steveās eyes snap back up and catch yours. theyāre pretty. your eyes. disgustingly captivating. right. right..
he feels like a loser. young and stupid. but heās older than you and youāre so damn cool itās fucking ridiculous. he doesnāt know what to say to you. did nancy fuck up all parts of him? why canāt he be cool anymore? what the fuā
āare you okay?ā
he flinches a little. his gaze finds yours once more and youāre closer than he remembers. youāve leaned in a little, brows drawn and looking over his face like a worried mother. he frowns, nearly forgets what you guys were talking about. āwhy wouldnāt i be okay?ā
you scoff.
āum, iām sorry, is it like every saturday that you just serve yourself up on a platter for faceless cat eating monsters? i didnāt realize you were so cool, harry.ā thereās a genuine look in your eyes, a little funny, and a little worry still remaining.
steve canāt help but smile. he tries to bite it back. āi donāt know what youāre talking about. iāve always been cool.ā
you scoff again, all dramatics. āyeah, okay. youāre a babysitter now.ā
itās his turn to scoff. āand what does that make you? i donāt see you out there cheering with everyone else?ā
you bite back your own smile. āarenāt you just the charmer, harry.ā
he nearly feels himself slip back into old skin. it nearly feels that easy again. harrington. king steve. cool school boy. basketball player. not nancy wheelerās boyfriend.
but he realizes, staring at your face, he doesnāt wanna be that guy anymore. heāll let you be the cool one.
shitā
doesnāt that make it sound like he likes you?
does he like you?ā
your drop a brow at his silence, your lips part but nothing comes out. thereās a sudden banging at the front door to your guys right.
both your eyes snap to the door.
itās dead silent for a moment. it feels like no one breathes.
the kids inch out of the kitchen and peak around the wall. max looks for your gaze.
then thereās banging again at the door, rough and loud.
āharrington!ā
itās a male voice.
steve canāt help it, he finds his way standing in front of youāprotective.
you stare at the side of his concerned face like heās lost his mind.
