#I feel like he’s very shy and has a blank face that people find a bit unsettling

[olivers-cocoapuffs]

sorry babes but Regulus wouldn’t be mean/snarky to anyone he isn’t close to or trusts. He’s the perfect Black heir, who keeps his mouth shut about his opinions.

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — YUUJI ITADORI. isn’t it weird? how love never changes.

about. no matter what anyone says, yuuji itadori’s love for you is unwavering and he hopes that you’ll never see a reason to change. not for anyone, not even him. (1K)

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, characters are aged up to 20s and in college, weird gf and jock bf, yuuji is a jock and has obnoxious teammates, reader is an introvert and wears glasses, selfship coded i fear, fem!reader.

“itadori, don’t you think your girlfriend is a little.. weird?”

the pink haired jock blinks once, then frowns  as he tugs a fresh shirt over his head — practice with his soccer team had ran a little longer than anticipated and he didn’t feel like coming home to you, his girlfriend, in a stinky old shirt. 

yuuji’s not sure when the topic of locker room talk had switched onto him and his love life but he cares enough to bite — not about to let his teammates talk smack about his girl. “where’d you get that idea from?”

another teammate speaks up. “when she comes to your games, she wears your sweatshirts but doesn’t cheer for you at all.” 

“she’s just shy, nothing wrong with that.” yuuji counters.

“whenever we hang out at the after partie she’s always… clinging onto you… doesn’t drink with any of us.”

“i told you, she’s a little shy,”  he stands up a little straighter this time, narrowing his eyes. “and parties aren’t for everyone. she might not like them but she’s there to support me. shouldn’t that be enough?”

“but dude…” someone else speaks up. “don’t you find any of that strange? like she’s just… weird.”

yuuji can’t get home fast enough after that. he almost falls to pieces when he sees you singing and shuffling your way through the cupboards in his dorm kitchen — making yourself a snack. he loves it when you stay over and he gets to watch you like this, so calm and at ease in his space. he feels grateful to even be sharing it with you.

weird isn’t a word that yuuji itadori would use to describe his girlfriend. 

he finds you intriguing. your relationship is still new, so all of the differences between you both interest him beyond belief. each time he discovers a new habit of yours (like the way you forget to take your glasses off when you sleep) or a fact about your life before college, or finds out something obscure relating to your hobbies and interests… yuuji can’t help but to fall in love with you all over again. like an astronomer who’s searching for the secrets of the universe, the pink haired jock wants to know every interesting little detail that makes you, you. 

that’s created the very person he loves today. 

“please never change,” yuuji breathes against the back of your head once he’s home. you can’t even comprehend the speed at which he’s dropped his gym back before he’s wrapped himself around you in the same manner that a boa constrictor would. only more affectionate. “and if you do, let me change with you.” 

being this close to itadori, you can smell his baby-fresh soap and the tinge of sweat from his work out. you can feel the strength of his arms as they squeeze you close from behind — like he’ll never let you go. he makes you feel loved even when it’s not on purpose, you go your every waking moment cared for and adored by yuuji itadori. it’s always subconscious, unwavering and steady. your love is stable like that, never dampened from those outside of the two of you — that much will never change. 

“that’s a big ask, yuu.” comes your contented hum, but you don’t stop your actions — continuing to make your snack while the pink haired jock squeezes you tight. as if to become one with you. “people change all the time.” 

you hold up a hand behind you and he sucks the peanut butter from your thumb eagerly. “i know, but i don’t want what anyone else says about you or us to make you change,” he mumbles petulantly against the shell of your ear, trying to find the right words as he tucks his face into your neck. “you’re perfect to me, as you are.” 

it’s cute that he reminds you of such a trivial little thing. those big brown eyes of yuuji’s see perfection in all of your flaws. he loves you so much you wonder if how much you feel for him even compares. 

“what’s gotten into you?” you giggle, spinning in his arms to stand on the tips of your toes — pressing a soft kiss to the point at which your boyfriend’s jaw meets his neck. it’s all you can reach. “did something happen?” 

yuuji hesitates for a moment, lips pursed and honey-glazed eyes cast to the side. he would never lie to you, that’s not in his nature — but he’d never want to hurt your feelings either. “the guys…the guys on the team said some stuff about us today,” his voice trails off and his hands trail upwards, dipping underneath the jersey of his that you wear to draw circles into your waist using his rough thumbs. he figures it’s best to tell you before one of his teammates  let it slip and hurt your feelings. he would rather die then let that happen. “they… they think you’re weird and that… that we’re too different.” 

“o-oh.”

a flash of pain comes with the territory of yuuji’s honesty, but he’s quick to soothe it as though he’s running your burn under a stream of cool water. “but i like you. like…really really like you,” the words rush out while his eyes stay serious and set in stone. your boyfriend grasps both of your hands firmly before you can even think to cry or pull away.

yuuji is there and he is constant and that is never changing. not for anyone, except for you. “and i like all of the funny things about you. that you’re a little quiet, that you’re always by my side, that you leave me notes in my gym bag or share your celebrity crushes with me. i like you for you. even if you’re a little weird — then…then i am too!” 

his hands, strong and yet so soft, traverse up to your round cheeks — tilting your head up to face him. “please don’t ever change because of what people say,” yuuji repeats tenderly, his lips finding the crown of your head in a gentle kiss. he stays there, like a magnet on metal and the world stands still for a moment. remaining the same, no longer changing, so that yuuji itadori can love you as is. “the way you are right now, it’s everything to me.” 

itadori only moves when you tip your head back to get a better look at him, he looks down at you through his unfairly long lashes — brown eyed gaze latching onto yours while your hearts sync up, beating to the same drum. “i’ll never change, as long as you promise to always love me like this.”

“i’ll love you the same way that i always have. like i’m the luckiest guy in the world, yeah?” he laughs and you smile — because it’s hard to be upset when yuuji is around, and protects your love so genuinely. 

you lean up and he meets you half way — pressing a slow and lingering kiss to the swell of your lips, wrapping his arms around you once again as you away to a silent tune in his tiny dorm kitchen. 

change is inevitable of course. the two of you will grow and become different people than you are right now — but you will always find your way back to the beautiful love that you hold. 

much like a butterfly that blossoms into something beautiful too.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[yuri-is-online]

Grim being greedy with Yuu's attention and love is pretty cute and very cat of him. Though it would be funny if the guys are the ones getting jealous/are envious of Grim. Image one of them seeing Grim getting held, smooched on his cute little face, and being told what a handsome little man he is. The boy wants that to be him so bad. 🥲

I love the misplaced jealousy trope so much. It's about the contempt, embarrassment, and guilt all rolled up into one package. Anyway have a list:

Not Jealous

Kalim- the only thing he is jealous of is that he is not the one spoiling Grim, he wants to let him know what a special little boy he is too! Look he even brought some crackers-

Trey- has kid siblings, knows how fun they can be to spoil so he doesn't mind. He saves his actual jealousy for other people that try to monopolize your time and assume that since he is so laid back he will just be ok with it.

Lilia- he is too old to be jealous of a practical child, but he is a bit hurt Grim won't let him spoil either of you with some food. He worked really hard on it ˙∧˙

Rook- watching you interact with Grim is truly beautiful, he has so many pictures of the two of you together from different angles in different light and he loves them all. Also I feel like he would be the type to actually like feeling jealous? Like he would write excessively about how beautiful he finds his feelings for you to the point you wonder if he is actually jealous or just... really extra with his obsessions.

Rollo- he doesn't see Grim as competition. Point, blank, period, there is no reason to be jealous of a monster because he doesn't want you to see him as someone who needs babying. If you are going to pepper his face with kisses and tell him he is handsome he wants that to be for other reasons (and hopefully in private he isn't big on pda.)

Deuce- he has this little game with Grim where Grim tries to get him jealous but Deuce waits his turn like a good little boy and gets twice as many kisses and compliments as Grim does. Idiot falls for it every time and Deuce is way to smug about it for Yuu not to notice.

Only a Little Jealous

Ruggie- is aware enough of himself to know he has no reason to see Grim as competition. Everyone likes spoiling kids, even bratty ones, but hey. Ruggie is a greedy guy and he wants to be spoiled by you, even if he is a bit too shy to admit it.

Cater- you spoiling Grim is very camable and Cater loves taking pictures of it; even if he doesn't have your permission to post them he just likes to have them to look at. But on days where Cater is a bit more depressed it can be hard to watch, he needs some tlc to recharge and he will never say he hates seeing it go to Grim- he does hate seeing it go to Grim.

Epel- really wishes Yuu would hang out with him because they think he is cool... but cool guys like being told they're handsome and getting kisses too... right? Well doesn't matter because he does and he is torn between playing cute to get it and hoping he wakes up buff enough to flirt with Yuu the way he wants.

Silver- he isn't aware that he is jealous because he knows why he shouldn't be, he has animals following him around everywhere so it would be hypocritical of him to be jealous of the attention you give Grim. But he is, he really likes your affection and is jealous for it.

In Denial

Vil- world famous super model Vil Schoenheit does not get jealous, people get jealous of him. And he certainly does NOT get jealous of monsters who aren't real rivals for your attention and he does not look at how you spoil Grim and think to himself how nice it would be to be able to be that free with his affection. On a completely unrelated note are you free in about an hour? He has some lipsticks he needs to swatch.

Jade- let's get one thing straight, Jade never gets actually jealous he just pretends to be because it's funny. He definitely is not watching you kiss Grim's little face and actually think of throwing him halfway across campus. Now if you could just look the other way for a second- oh why are you looking at him like that he would never actually hurt Grim. But just to make sure maybe you could buy him off with a kiss? Pretty please?

Sebek- thinks that he is above being jealous but has that ruffled wet cat look complete with the trembling lower lip as soon as he sees you and Grim. He isn't fooling anyone, please also spoil the croco he will call you an idiot but he is only doing that because he is too flustered to talk properly.

Jack- you are his mate, his one and only, the moon in the sky that is his life so why oh why does watching you spoil Grim make him want to die? Maybe it's because it is a bit hard for him to admit when he wants your affection so seeing you be so free with Grim makes those same words bubble up in his throat. Thank goodness he has a tail, otherwise you would never know when he wants a smooch.

Riddle- touch starved? Check. Proud? Check. Obsessed with rules to the point that it makes him a bit stiff when it comes to how he rationalizes his desires for affection? Oh you don't even know. He doesn't realize what he is feeling is jealousy and just assumes Yuu is breaking some sort of rule of social etiquette and that's why he is so mad at Grim. If he gets a kiss out of this he will probably pass out.

Visibly Seething

LEONA- is a petty bitch. He needs to feel like he is in charge and has a weird sort of competition with Grim because of how vaguely feline he is. Leona is the bigger cat so he should be the one Yuu is kissing on and not the whiny baby. leona says fuck them kids

Floyd- Floyd isn't always jealous. Sometimes he thinks watching Yuu spoil Grim is really funny! Just look at baby seal, all whiny and spoiled just like a real baby, so cute ♡ But when he has decided that he, Floyd, is the one who should be receiving kisses the eel is an absolute menace. Running won't help you.

Azul- he is touch starved and repressed and while it should be cute watching you spoil Grim... he doesn't think it is. Or rather he can't, he is too caught up in white knuckling his grip on his cane because oh seas he wishes that were him, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LET THAT BE HIM

Jamil- thinks he is playing it smooth and isn't coming off as jealous at all but he is. I once wrote that he would be jealous of the air you breathe and Grim is much more solid than that. He tries to play off his interruption as him just having had a rough day but Grim knows what he is and is not impressed. he totally sticks his tongue out at grim when yuu isn't looking what a loser

Ace- Grim has this weird game he plays with Ace where he behaves extremely well and gets a bunch of kisses and praise while Ace seethes in the corner until he finally snaps and whines for your attention. Ace does not wait his turn like a good boy and he and Grim are constantly competing for who gets the most kisses.

Malleus- Mal Mal is a bit of a spoiled brat. He hasn't had a lot of friends, so him wanting to be around Yuu and have their attention whenever he wants is natural but... he really isn't the best at sharing. But never mind that isn't his face much more kissable than Grim's child of man? (￣ε￣)

C-c-combo

Idia- no I didn't forget hims shut up. He goes through all four stages in that exact order. Not jealous because Mr. Grim is so cute he deserves all the kissies in the world, to a little jealous because he wishes Grim would let him spoil him too, to in denial because pssh there's no waaay you would ever want to give a weeb like him kisses or think he was handsome, to outright seething because Grim starts making fun of him. He is too brave enough to handle Yuu's affection! He instantly passes out after he gets one kiss

[raythekiller]

could you plz do the creeps realizing they like someone & what they do abt their feelings?? thank you sm !

🗒 ❛ Realizing They're In Love ༉‧₊˚✧

Featuring: Jeff The Killer, Ben Drowned, Ticci Toby, Eyeless Jack, Laughing Jack, Masky, Hoodie

#Notes: warning for some light angst in some parts (mainly EJ and LJ)

pronouns used:

˗ˏˋ back to navigation ´ˎ˗

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Jeff The Killer

He absolutely hates the way you make him feel and will be extra mean to you because of it. He doesn't even realize what the feelings are at first, he just knows they make him feel vulnerable and weak and he despises that and, by correlation, despises you as well. Once he does realize it though (after a good, good while) he'll still be mean, but more in a teasing sort of way. You can probably tell he has something for you because of how possessive he gets, always wanting your attention to be towards him and getting jealous every time you spend time with other people. He'll just keep behaving that way and getting increasingly upset that you won't notice his "obvious" flirting.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Ben Drowned

Now this guy is the most shameless simp to have ever simped on the face of the Earth. That being said, he's not used to actually having feelings for someone - normally it only goes as far as physical attraction. So while he is normally decent at flirting (again, if you like cringe pickup lines at all), it all goes down the drain as soon as he realized he's actually, genuinely down bad. Suddenly he's stuttering, unable to get sentences out right, and finds his mind going blank whenever you're around, just fidgeting with his fingers nervously instead of trying to make a move. It's cute if you're into shy guys.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Ticci Toby

Another one who's a little bit oblivious to his own feelings for a long, long time. All he knows is that you remind him of simpler times, times where things were better, so he wants to be around you as often as he possibly can. You'll be sitting side by side and he'll see your hand resting by your body and the thought of grabbing it crossed his mind, his heart immediately started beating faster to the point he had to excuse himself. That's when he knew. Though he is quite shy by nature, he'll try his best to be a little bolder in his own way, complimenting you more and being a little more physical. One of the only guys who isn't afraid to confess first, though his is a little bit more in the heat of the moment than a well planned out romantic confession.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Eyeless Jack

Now with him, things are a little more complicated. He has what I like to call "villain complex", where he truly and genuinely believes himself to be an awful, disgusting and vile person. Hell, not even a person - a demon. He lacks any kind of good opinion about himself, so when he realizes (quite fast, at that) that he has feelings for you? He feels offended on your behalf. To have a monster, an abomination like him be in love with you, something so good and pure in his eyes, is like the ultimate offense to him. So, he won't act on his feelings. Honestly, he'll even hope that you manage to get with someone else so he can know you're genuinely, truly happy and move on. It's very plausible you two won't ever end up together. Unless you decide to take matters into your own hands, that is.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Laughing Jack

Jack is a little bit of a wild card. He naturally has a flirty personality, so you won't know that he's serious unless he decides to tell you, which he probably won't for a good long while yet. That's because, unless he tells you about it, he doesn't actually have anything to lose. His main fear is that you'll be disgusted by those feelings he has, disgusted by him, and decide to leave him just like everyone else did. It's not even rejection that he's so afraid of, it's abandonment. So, while he has one of the easiest times accepting his feelings, he'll be one of the worst when it comes to acting on them.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Masky

Pretty similar to Jeff, but also complete opposites in some ways. While he is extra mean to you because you make him feel vulnerable, it's also because he's hyper aware of what he's feeling towards you. He's a grown man, he knows attraction when he feels it, sexual or romantic, but that doesn't make him hate it any less. Unlike Jeff who's an asshole as a way of flirting, Tim is an asshole to get you to hate him. If you just despise him, his feelings should technically go away as well, so that's what he's aiming at. He already has enough problems in his life, a "silly little crush" (as he calls it) isn't another one that he needs or wants to deal with. Again, if you want things to go further, you'll have to take matters into your own hands.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Hoodie

Smooth ass motherfucker. Like Masky, knows what the feelings are right away, but has no fear in acting on them. And he's super fucking good at it. He sees love as one of the many pleasures of life, something meant to be enjoyed, so he's not going to shy away from it. He'll shower you in every love language known to man, this guy absolutely knows what he's doing. He's not even insecure that you might reject him, he knows he's a catch and you know what? He's not wrong. So it won't take him long at all to confess in the most chill but romantic way possible, like it's not even a big deal (which, to him, really isn't).

[manicpixiedreamcurl]

The More You Give ❧ (Part V)

Pairing | Eddie x reader

Warnings | 18+ minors and blank blogs don’t interact, bullying, friendship comes and goes, discussions of anxiety, discussions of virginity, discussions of sex shaming, frottage (PUSSYJOB), everyone’s very vulnerable.

Word count | ~11,800

A/N | Oooh, mama. It’s been a while. I hope most of the people who like this fic are still around.

Taglist

Previous Chapter

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You like calling Eddie, the sound of his voice over the phone. The way he answers it differently each time:

“This is Eddie Munson, lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin; available for christenings, bar mitzvahs and weddings.”

“Munson residence. The old guy’s out so if you’re looking to buy a collection of novelty mugs now’s the time.”

“You’ve reached the church of Satan; Abaddon the Destroyer speaking. For your free introductory handbook on summoning circles just dial six-six-six.”

And then there’s the happy rise in his tone when he hears it’s you on the other side, the surprised laugh at the sound of your soft hi, Eddie even when he’d asked you to call. The crackle of his breath through the receiver, the way conversations with him are easy however they happen. With anyone else, phone calls feel stilted and awkward, but Eddie talks as if you’re sitting right in front of him. 

It makes you warm all over to think about. Eddie wants to see you and kiss you and touch you, but he’s also happy to sit on his couch miles away and speak to you, listen in return to everything you can bring yourself to say.

You have taken to dragging a chair from the kitchen and sitting by the hallway table to talk to him like this whenever you don’t see him in the evening. You spend an hour or two at a time smiling at your mom’s address book, twirling the coiled cord of the phone around your finger while Eddie talks about this day, asks about yours, explains why he’s really into this new Swedish black metal band he’s discovered, checks what you’re reading, shares an idea he has for Hellfire, plans your next date.

Today is no exception. Your dad has walked past muttering about the phone bill twice. Your mom, as usual, has stationed herself in the kitchen within earshot, but what exactly she gets out of hearing the low buzz of Eddie’s voice and your laughter, you don’t know.

"And you're sure you don't wanna come, sweet girl?" 

"Yeah, I-" You hesitate, playing with a rose petal from the bowl of potpourri that sits by the phone. "I think I should stay here. Just in case." 

In truth, you don't have much hope that May will call, but imagining that she does and you aren’t here to receive it fills you with worry. The last thing you want is to make things any worse between you after you messed up so badly. 

It’s not unusual for you to feel this type of regret. When overthinking something delays your actions until it’s too late. You worried so much about how to tell May about Eddie that you left it too long. You should have told her the day you kissed him, should have phoned when you got back from your first date. Instead, you spent your time imagining the conversation, and let your best friend find out something important through somebody else. 

You hurt her. She is wounded enough that she really has given up defending you. When Caroline remarks on your silence now, May doesn't attempt to fill the emptiness your lumping throat leaves. 

"She's just shy," May used to say, waving her hand. Her embarrassment over your stumbled words and fidgeting hands was clear, then, but you knew she felt for you, even if she didn't understand why she had to. Now she just looks at you expectedly like everyone else, pulls awkward, embarrassed faces when you stumble and fidget through a non-answer.

You had taken to spending more of your lunches helping Heather with her new responsibilities as class president, sitting quietly at debate club and nodding along to her speeches, taking the role of a small country at her model UN meetings. But you are starting to feel her frustration with you, too. 

“You don’t have to come to every meeting if you don’t enjoy it.” She said to you after the last UN encounter you’d sat through without uttering a word.

“It’s just, I don’t really know much about Anguilla. But I like hearing you speak.”

Heather smiled with her lips closed. “That’s not what it’s for, though. I think maybe you’d prefer having lunch with May and the cheerleading girls again.”

You felt your cheeks burning, pulled the sleeves of your cardigan down over your hands and fiddled with the woollen edges. “Oh. Okay. Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Sometimes you think about sitting at Eddie’s table instead. To have another hour of him every day. The picture is nice on its own. Talking to him, to Jeff, even the freshmen Eddie has adopted since the beginning of the year. But then the image zooms out; you at the Hellfire table, May with the cheerleaders, Heather at her clubs, and your chest aches. You don’t know when it happened, when you had to start holding on this tight, digging your nails into them. You only know you’ll leave claw marks on your friendship before you let it go easy.

And while you can never get enough Eddie, you aren’t normally deprived of him outside of the school walls. With anyone else, you might have worried about suffocating him, being clingy. But Eddie makes it clear at every turn how much he wants to be around you. His grin in the mornings when you climb into his van. The way he leans into your space, hair tickling your cheeks, and asks all soft and earnest if you want to go home with him. Some days, he invites you into the trailer to touch and taste you. Others, to sit on his couch or his bed and talk. Or to just spend hours just breathing the same air as him, listening to him scribble in his D&D notebook or strum at his guitar while you read or do your homework. 

But you won't see him tonight. Eddie is going to see Fright Night with most of the boys in his club, and it's all he's talked about the past week. He'd asked you to come, all wide brown eyes and dimples, and your stomach had twisted. 

"Normally May and I do something around this time each month." You hadn't been able to look him in the eye when you said it, fiddling with his hands instead. You'd rubbed the softness of your thumb over the callused pads of his fingers, knowing he had that look he'd been getting whenever you found yourself bringing your friend up. A little sad, guilt he shouldn't be feeling. Irritation, at you or at her you're not brave enough to ask. 

"You sure?" He asks over the phone now. "It'd be pretty easy for me to pick you up. I'm giving Wheeler a ride. He's just down the street from your place." 

You feel a wave of fondness for him, for the lie he’s just told. He isn’t aware that you know exactly where Mike Wheeler lives. You’ve babysat Holly since you were sixteen, and the route to her home takes half an hour in your dad's car. 

"I'm sure," you say, trying to sound firm. "But I hope you like the movie."

"If it's good, maybe we can see it together another time." 

"You wouldn't mind going twice?" 

"I'd watch the same movie twenty times in a row if you promised to come to the last one." He laughs, sounding enough like he means it that your smile hurts your cheeks. 

"That might be a touch excessive," you murmur. "Twice sounds like enough."

"How about tomorrow? We could get dinner first, make a real date out of it." 

Your face heats up like the first time Eddie asked you out. You touch your toe to your ankle, winding the cord of the phone tight around your finger. You whisper. "Okay."

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." You press your knees together. "That sounds nice."

"Unless the movie's shit, then we'll have to call the whole thing off." You laugh down the phone, imagining the tease in Eddie’s smile. "I'll have a review for you by tomorrow, sweet thing."

"Okay, Eddie."

"And I'm not leaving for another ten minutes. If you change your mind, just call, okay?"

"Okay, Eddie," you repeat. "Have a nice time."

"See you soon, beautiful." 

Your toes curl. "See you soon." 

When he's gone and the phone is back in its holder, you have to sit tense and still for a second to avoid making some kind of happy squeal, settling for curling your fingers into your skirt and tapping your heels wildly against the floor. 

You still feel a little dizzy with the thought of him when you pull the chair back into the kitchen, enough that you jump when your mom speaks. "That Eddie on the phone?" 

You fix her with a look, because she knows exactly who you were talking to, and she gives you a mock innocent smile that shifts into a real one. 

“You were laughing a lot.”

Her hands drip soapy water from the kitchen sink, finishing up the dishes that would have been done ten minutes ago if she hadn't dragged it out for an excuse to stay where she could hear you. You chew the inside of your lip while you take the next freshly cleaned plate from her. Grabbing a dry dish cloth to drag across the ceramic, you shrug one shoulder. 

“He’s funny.”

“And you like that about him?”

“Mom.”

“Just a question!” She says, holding her hands up, before grabbing the dish towel from you to wipe her wet hands. “You talk more, when it’s him on the phone. Did you know that?”

“You listen to all my conversations?”

“I’m your mother,” she laughs, bumping your hip with hers. “And I’ve never heard you so chatty.” You give her another look and she reconsiders. "Chatty for you. There's been times I've rounded that corner surprised you were even on the phone, you're so quiet. I mean, with that last boy-” She hums a disapproving tone, reaches out to fix the collar of your cardigan. "I swear you'd sit there and not say anything at all."

“It's easier to talk to Eddie,” you admit, thinking about how pleased he looks when you ramble about what you're reading, the last kid you babysat, even the new eyeshadow palette you’d saved up for and felt a touch immature being so excited about. All his encouraging nods, all the questions and affirmations afterwards. "He's…" 

He’s a million good things. Too many to name, too many to put in order. You glance at her to the side, raising one shoulder. 

"I like him," she declares. "I think he's good for you." 

Your face is hot and uncomfortable, but it still feels nice to agree. "I think so, too." 

When the dishes are away and your mom is settled on the couch with your dad watching Quincy reruns, you walk slowly upstairs, hoping that the phone will ring again before your door closes. 

You make a bet with yourself in your head. If it rings before I get to my room, it’ll be May. It’ll be May and she’ll want to be friends again and everything will be alright. You reach the top, spy the door the end of the hall. Any time after, it’ll be somebody else; a sales call, a chatty relative. 

All you hear as you pad across the landing is your parents laughing at the TV. 

With your door closed, your heart sore, you glance at your desk on the other side of the room, the cork pin board behind it decorated with memories. There is your first concert ticket, next to a postcard from the first time you left this country by plane. An askew origami frog that a boy you used to babysit made for you. A pom-pom that detached from the winter hat you wore from October to March three years running in middle school. 

There is Heather. One photo as she is now, smiling at you over a yellow smoothie. Another couple from your first years together, at the edge of womanhood. Her in braces and her mother's lipstick, the aquamarine taffeta dress she wore to your first high school prom. 

And there is May. She is everywhere, over and over again, in all the stages of her life since you met. She is in pigtails, her small hand in yours, her gap toothed grin next to your close lipped smile. She is in this room, with sparkling eyelids, the earliest and most keen model for your interest. She is at the Spring fair of 1979, holding cotton candy you'd shared soon after the photo was taken. She is at that first concert, decked out in Wham! merchandise. Swim meets and cheer competitions. A line of photo booth strips. You are there with her; both giggling, eyes crossed and tongues rolled. 

May has been a constant in your life, but now your life has shifted. Maybe you have to accept that she doesn’t want to shift with it. 

The phone rings downstairs. 

You hear your dad huff, the sound of your mom rising from the couch and heading through the hall. You hold your breath, listen to the buzz of her landline specific voice, all breezy politeness. Then she calls your name.

You practically throw yourself down the stairs, slipping at the last couple in your socks. You have to hold yourself back from grabbing the phone from her. Taking just a second to glance over your shoulder to check that she's actually walking away, you whisper into the phone. “Hello?”

"Where are you? I rented Footloose." Tears prick in your eyes at the sound of May’s voice. You look up to the ceiling, silent for too long. “You still there?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Where are you?” She repeats. “Second Friday of the month. It’s movie night.”

“I didn’t-” You swallow, blinking tears away as they rise and trying not to sniffle. “I thought maybe you didn’t want to see me.”

"Of course I want to see you,” she answers. “You're my best friend."

You feel your bottom lip shaking, can’t fight the sniffles this time. You drag the sleeve of your cardigan across your eyes, voice cracking when you speak next. "You really mean it, May?"

"I’m inviting you round, aren’t I?” She says, sharp tone softened by a sigh crackling in your ear through the receiver. “Of course I mean it.” You hum a high sound, a stifled sob of relief, eyes squeezed shut. “Now, come watch Kevin Bacon shake his ass with me." 

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You are warm under the silken soft quilt pulled from May’s bed. Your stomach is heavy with buttered popcorn and gummy worms. Your skin is soft from the homemade face masks you made in her kitchen, singing along to Cyndi Lauper and listening to May read the recipe aloud from the newest YM magazine dropped on her doorstep just this morning.

Stirring oatmeal and yoghurt together like a potion, you felt a pang of nostalgia. For a second, you were seven years old, standing with May over a muddy puddle, your makeshift cauldron brimming with gathered leaves, stones, and red berries. You’d mix it up with long, gnarled twigs and cackle together like the witches. The mucky water wasn’t just mud, then. It was poison, it was love potion. It was magic, made together. 

Today, at eighteen, you glanced up at May’s concentrated face while she attempted to separate egg whites from yolks, and let yourself be soothed by the thought that maybe some things are still as they were. 

Footloose was abandoned after Kevin Bacon finished throwing himself rhythmically around an empty warehouse, May’s interest in it vanishing swiftly after that. You found yourself on the couch talking while the film played on in the background until the popcorn was finished and the oats could be washed from your face. 

Then May led you up to her room, almost as familiar to you as your own. 

The cream lambskin rug, still matted and stained in one corner from that time you’d spilt nail polish over it. Terrified you might not be allowed to come over anymore, May told her mom it was her, and she was grounded for a week. 

You bought her those fairy lights, the ones that hang above her bed. Last year, you wrapped them in pink tissue paper, felt the satisfying swell of a present well chosen when she’d hugged you tight with the box still in her hand. 

May has her own cork board. Amongst plastic medals and concert tickets, there is you at that fair, you and Heather at prom, the second strip from the photo booth. 

“And it’s like, when was it decided that we had to pick our whole future at eighteen, anyway?” May asks, eyebrows twitching like she wants to furrow them. She fights through it, keeping them high on her forehead to let you smooth powder over her lids. “Here I am, barely out of the cradle!” You snort, and her mouth tilts a touch. “Feels like I started walking last week, and now it’s all, what do you mean you don’t have a clue what you want to do with your life? It just feels crazy to me.”

“It is.” You shift forward on the soft shag carpet, your knees bumping hers under the throw keeping your legs warm. 

“Right? I mean, you know that your brain doesn’t even really mature until you’re, like, twenty-five? So I am close enough to a child that I really shouldn’t have this responsibility.”

Humming in agreement, you rub your thumb at the corner of her eye, smudging the edge of the lilac eyeshadow there. 

“At least I have an idea where I’m going. Indiana State, here I come. You’re still applying for NYU, right?”

“Mm. Maybe,”

“Oh, come on, you have to apply at least!” She insists, eyelids twitching. “It’s the place to be, for your poetry, right?”

You hum. “I might still do Chemistry.”

“Chemis- absolutely not!” Her eyes fly open, and you make a noise of protest.

“I’m not done!”

“You are not doing Chemistry.” May says, a comic picture with one eye bordered by soft pastel tones, the other bare of colour, while she looks at you sternly. “You don’t enjoy it!”

“But I could get a job at the end,” you reason. 

May snorts, eyes closing gently, chin peaking out to let you get back into it as though she’s already won the argument. “Job schmob,” she says. “When you’re in New York, you can find a rich man to worry about that.” You frown, and like she senses it, the eye you’re not working on opens again. “Or find a rich man for me. He has to be really rolling in it though, so he can look after us both.”

You hear Eddie’s voice in your ear like he’s in the room with you. Just wait, I’ll look after you. 

“Think you can do that?” May asks. “Keep an eye out for me, when you’re making all your arty, interesting friends in New York?”

You swallow, tuning back into the conversation. “I don’t think really want me to find you a man.”

“Mmph. The way my love life is going, I’ll need whatever help I can get.” She moves a little then, a slight tilt of her head that would be imperceptible to anyone but you, who's seen every degree of emotion on May’s face. You know she’s going to drop something serious before she even opens her mouth. “I saw Liam last week.”

You fight through the temptation to stop blending the eyeshadow on her lids, keeping your tone as even as possible. “Oh?”

“When I was in Indianapolis with the girls?” Those trips with the cheerleaders you avoid desperately. The thought of being stuck in a car with Caroline on the way there and back can make you break out in a cold sweat. “He was at one of the bars. He apologised, said he wanted to maybe go out again.”

“Mm.”

“Oh, don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything-”

“That was your judgy mmmh,” she says, batting your hand away from her face to look at you straight. “Last time I heard it was when I showed you that top I bought last month.”

Despite yourself, you crack at the memory of the flouncy pink thing she’d shown you with an awkward, self-aware smile. You’d been working out how to gently tell her to burn it when she’d figured out the tone of your hum and thrown it off in front of you with a whispered, “what was I thinking?” 

Now, your tilted lips turn down at May’s solemn expression, her eyes shiny. 

You shuffle closer, tucking the blanket around the both of you gently, cocooning your legs in together. “He hurt you, last time. Used you.” 

She chews her lip. “That’s what boys do.”

“May-”

“I know you think what happened with Andy was bad, but you’ll learn, that’s just how they are. They need a little more forgiveness than girls, and some of them are worth it.”

You feel the beginning of the argument she might not be quite past. “Andy didn’t really like me, May. He only wanted-”

“The same thing they all want. The only thing they all want.”

Your heart aches for her. “That’s not true.”

“You think it’s not true right now, but when you hold out on Munson the way you did with Andy, you’ll see that it is.”

You fiddle with your fingers then, wondering if you should tell her. The guilt of not sharing that you’d started seeing Eddie prickles along the back of your neck. Your knee starts to bounce, and May blinks at you, just as attune to the meaning of your expressions. “Well, with Eddie-”

“Please, please, tell me you haven’t fucked Eddie Munson.”

“No. I mean, not yet but,” you begin, fiddling with your skirt. “Like, we’ve done, y’know, other stuff.” You glance at her shocked face, worry rising. “Don’t tell anyone. Please.”

“Why would I tell anyone something that would literally ruin what’s little is left of your reputation? You wouldn’t let Andy do anything but you’ve been seeing the freak for a few weeks and you’re, what, sitting in his dirty van giving him hand jobs?”

“Oh my god, May!”

“What? What am I supposed to think?”

You shake your head, tense your hands in your clothes. “It’s not like that with Eddie.” Your mind is awash with shiny brown eyes, soft pink cheeks, Eddie’s voice tickling your neck. “I don’t worry about anything, with him. It’s fun.”

“It’s fun.”

“It’s like, I thought sex was something a boy would do to me, something I’d have to let him do. With Andy, it was like if he took me on dates, it was what he would get in return,” you say, fiddling with the blanket. “But with Eddie it’s like,” you hum, hating how awkward this all sounds, so unused to talking about sex yourself, so used to hearing it from other, experienced, confident people. “We go on dates together, and talk together. And then with the, y’know, sexual stuff, we’re doing it…together.”

“But not really doing it, right?”

“No. But my point is,” you continue, grabbing her hand, clasping it in both of yours. “I know I don’t really know anything about boys, and I know you’re not Eddie’s biggest fan. But even though it’s not been long, I think he’s proof that, maybe, sometimes, boys aren’t what either of us thought. And if you really like Liam, then maybe he deserves your forgiveness. But I really, really don’t think he does if he hasn’t made you think twice about what all boys want. And maybe if you found somebody like Eddie-” She makes a face, but you ignore it. “I mean, somebody who doesn’t ask you to forgive them all the time. I think that would be better.”

“Well, I can tell you right now, I don’t want an Eddie.” You press your lips together, listen to her sigh. “But you’re also…probably, maybe right about Liam.”

“He doesn’t deserve you, May. I mean, to apologise when you happened to be at the same bar! If he was really sorry, he should have come to see you with flowers and everything. He probably just saw you, all pretty, and realised what a dunce he’d been.”

She smiles a little at the vitriol in your voice, usually so soft and quiet. “I missed you.”

You almost flinch. “I’ve been here.”

“You stopped sitting with me at lunch.” 

“I…” You close your mouth, shrug instead. 

“I know it’s partly my fault. I was angry, so I stopped defending you. But then, I mean, you just gave up.” 

“I just- Some of the cheer girls are so intimidating, I never know what to say to them.”

“But you don’t try.” Your heart is sore, the guilt of knowing you’ve made life a little more difficult for her. “Listen, if you want to date Eddie Munson, I can be okay with that. I am okay with that.” She nods, seemingly trying to convince herself. “But will you just try, a little more, with the cheer girls? You don’t have to defend your relationship all the time, but maybe just try talking to them about something else? You could come on our next trip!” 

Your toes curl at the thought. “I don’t know.” 

“Please? We can’t let a boy come between us.” You wonder what she’d say if she knew how hard Eddie seems to try not to come between you. “I like Heather, even though she abandoned us. And I like the cheer girls. But I love you. You’re my best friend.”

“I love you, May. It won’t change.”

“So you’ll try?”

You chew the inside of your lip, give her a little nod that has her breaking out into a smile. “Okay. Okay, great.”

You try not to think about exactly what you’ve just compromised on while you finish her make up. May sits, silent and smiling while you sweep dark eyeliner across her lids, brush mascara over her long lashes.

“There, all done.” You love this bit. May turns to the floor length mirror beside you and grins at her reflection, her pretty eyes bordered by soft pastels from your new palette. It sends a warmth through you that you’d never admit to. Knowing you’re good at this, that even the cheer girls who think you’re weird admire the way you’ll do their make up at competitions. “It’s cool, right?”

“I love it,” she breathes, shifting closer to the mirror enough that the warm throw pulls from the tops of your legs, leaving your thighs chilly. “Just one last question. You’re not gonna play that Satanist game, right?”

Your brain short circuits, having thought you’d just agreed that you wouldn’t have to explain yourself. “Um, It’s really not what you think.” 

The scene plays out in your mind. Eddie, his lips on yours, your hands tangled in his hair, letting you tilt your hips to rub yourself over his thigh, suddenly pulled away from you with a gasp. He’d thrown himself from the bed dramatically, holding his open jeans up by the waistband. You’d watched him, breathless and warm, while he scrambled for a pen before writing in his D&D notebook and looking up at you in excitement. “I just thought of a really cool way to lure them into this whole cave thing I’ve been planning. Shit. They’re so fucked.” Before you could consider being offended that that’s what he’d been thinking about while kissing you, your legs were over his shoulders, his lips were smiling at your thigh. 

You can’t help your fond laugh. “Eddie’s such a dork about it. Last week-” You pause at her expression, realising that May probably doesn’t want to hear that story. You clear your throat. “They just pretend to be fantasy characters.” Witches over a cauldron, Princesses sharing a Kingdom. “Like we used to do, sorta.”

“Yeah, when we were kids.”

You have to swallow the lump that brings up to your throat. To hear her dismissal of the time you’ve been daydreaming about since you walked through her front door. “It’s not Satanist.”

“But you’re still not going to play it, right?”

“No,” you say, feeling cold. “I don’t think I’d be very good at it, anyway.”

She watches you for a second, but says nothing before grabbing the eyeshadow palette from the floor beside you. “Let me try, then. Get you all glammed up for making s’mores later.”

You smile with closed lips, let your eyes fall shut. You have to ignore the pang in your heart, the reminder that some things are entirely different from when you were seven. 

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“You know, I kinda thought there’d be more trembling.” Eddie’s breath tickles your ear as he whispers, again when he blows cool air on your neck just to see you wriggle a little while you look up at him, wide eyed. His pale face is illuminated only by the screen at the front of the room, but you can still see the mischief in his eyes, in the barely there turn of his smile. “I was told that taking a pretty girl to a scary movie would have you grabbing my thigh in pure terror. That you’d need me to comfort you with my masculinity.” 

You just about fight off the laugh, still glad that you are sequestered together in the back row when a soft amused noise escapes your throat. On screen, the newly transformed and aptly named Evil Ed laughs maniacally. The special effects and practical make up are impressive, but the whole thing has enough of a teen movie vibe that you’ve been about as scared as you were watching Kevin Bacon stuck on a tractor yesterday. 

“You and your masculinity should have picked a scarier movie.” You feel the flutter of nerves that accompanies teasing Eddie back, still always a little worried that it will come out wrong. The answer of Eddie stifling his laughter, eyes crinkling at the sides, has the butterflies scattering. 

“Noted,” Eddie whispers, cheeks dimpled. It strikes you how close he is now, his breath spreading over your cheeks. He leans down more, his nose at your temple, his lips pressing soft to the skin beside your eye. You shut both, breath shaking as Eddie’s mouth leaves a handful of kisses down your cheek to the corner of your mouth. There, he feels you twitch, and his eyes open to find you tense in your seat, fingers curled in your sleeves. 

You are fighting the urge to turn and check the rest of the row, the whole room, to make sure nobody is watching. The image of an attendant appearing with a flashlight taunts you, the thought of being escorted out of the theatre in shame. You open your mouth, trying to work out what to say, but Eddie just smiles at you. His hand finds yours, fingers tangling together in a gentle squeeze. 

“Sorry,” he whispers, licking his lips quickly. “M’sorry, baby.” 

You watch him lean back in his seat, face set in contentment to be sitting with you and feeling your palm against his. You’d been worried for a second there, that he might be angry with you, or that you might have to explain your worries until he understood. But it’s Eddie. 

You stare at his profile, the soft curls the brush his face, his pouty lips, and find you really, really want to kiss him, here and now. Eddie’s your boyfriend, you remind yourself with a shiver of happiness. Teenage girls have been kissing their boyfriends in the backs of movie theatres since the projector was invented, so why, why, shouldn’t you kiss yours?

You rub at the sleeve of your cardigan with your free hand, letting yourself have the comfort of looking around you quickly to make sure there really isn’t anyone else in this row, or even the one in front. With your eyes closed tight, you remind yourself that the boy who ripped your tickets looked about fifteen, not quite dedicated enough to this job to search the rows looking for kissing teenagers with an invasive flashlight. 

Pressing your knees together, you cuddle into Eddie’s side, smell his two-in-one shampoo and his aftershave and his skin. You press a kiss to his cheek, feel a little scratch of early stubble against your lips. His head turns, eyes scanning over your face. “We don’t have to, sweet thing.”

“I know.” You nod, tilting your chin up in petition. “Please?”

Eddie watches you for a second, giving you time to back out before he leans down to press his lips to yours. It’s a chaste thing; so quick that he has your mouth following him when he pulls away to make sure you’re still happy to kiss him here. Eddie breathes a soft laugh that has your stomach twisting, then his hand is covering your cheek. You feel his breath, your eyes close, and he’s kissing you. 

Eddie’s mouth is warm, but it tastes like blue raspberry slushy; sweet and sharp. At the first lick of his tongue against your lips, you feel a soft noise wanting to escape your throat, but it’s beaten back swiftly by the remaining fear that has your heart racing even as Eddie’s thumb smooths a gentle caress over your cheek. Underneath that is a new giddiness. The feeling that you’ve pushed past something, overcome a fear, however small. And to be doing this, making out with your boyfriend at the back of a movie theatre, like other girls have done.

Your arms find his shoulders, hands clasped together behind him, and Eddie smiles to your lips, just barely pulls away. His thumb stretches to rub your swollen bottom lip. “My brave girl.”

You shiver when he kisses you again, your toes curling in your sneakers. You think you could live on Eddie’s praise. Every pretty girl, smart girl, good girl he gives feels like it’s designed to leave you wanting to crawl onto his thighs, or else sit between them. Eddie’s mouth, intent on yours, wet enough that it feels like the start of something he definitely won’t finish in the back row of screen three, has you remembering how free he can be with his praise when your mouth is on him.

You weren’t expecting to like it so much, but thinking about the weight and taste of him in your mouth makes you squirm as much as the thought of his own tongue where you are most sensitive. You’ve enjoyed it every time since the first moment you spent looking up at him from between his thighs. Watching Eddie fight to keep his eyes on you, mess his own hair up when he forces himself not to take yours in his fist and push you down. His voice, desperate and breathy, coaxing you to try and take him just a little deeper, sweet thing. The quick hot flash of degradation when he taps his cock against your cheek or your tongue before pressing inside.

There is even something pleasant about the lasting ache in your jaw afterwards. The feeling that you’re willing and wanting to do something that hurts to make Eddie feel good is a sick satisfaction you're not yet used to.  

Cinema speakers fill the room with a swelling, dramatic soundtrack. A girl screams, a monster cries out in pain, no doubt making everyone else in the room jump in terror and shake with anticipation for how the whole thing will end. You can hear it, but only just, so firmly in the world of Eddie-Eddie-Eddie. 

Eddie has the beats of the movie memorised already, pulling away from you with a soft gasp just as the opening notes of the music over the end credits begin, a little line of spit connecting your lips until Eddie makes one last move to lick it away. 

The lights come up seconds later, the first groups of people standing to leave. They walk past you and Eddie, both breathless and dishevelled, without a second glance. Under the new lighting, Eddie’s cheeks are now clearly pink. It warms you from the inside out to know that you did that.

You feel the need to be close to Eddie as you leave, grasping onto his hand with both of yours when your jackets are on and he’s guiding you from the theatre. “How’d you like the movie?” He asks in the parking lot, dimples deep in his cheeks.

You hide your face in his arm, feeling that strange new embarrassment crawling up your spine. You mumble into the leather of his sleeve. “I hope nobody asks me how it ends.”

“Yeah, hadn’t thought about that.” Eddie opens the door to his van, holding your hand to help you up until you’re settled in the front seat. He leans in through the door with wide eyes. “Hey, maybe we could see it again next weekend?” 

You chew the inside of your lip. “Would I really see the end if we did?” 

His head falls forward, hair following in a wave. When his head tilts back up, one of his eyes is closed. “You figured me out that easy, huh?”

You smile at each other, Eddie looking over your face as you look over his. His big eyes, dark eyelashes, light freckles, sweet nose, plush pink lips. You’ve never seen another boy you could so comfortably describe as pretty.

You think he might walk round to his side, but instead you feel Eddie’s palm, warm at your knee. “So, uh, the thing is,” he rubs a circle with his thumb at the bottom of your thigh. “It’s Wayne’s day off, and most likely if we go to my place he’ll be in the living room watching MacGyver.”

“Oh.”

You feel guilty for being disappointed. Wayne is always polite, never breathes a word of complaint at the fact you seem to be in his home most days. The only inkling of irritation you get is never at you or Eddie. Instead, there is something in the way he drags himself from the trailer every evening, ready to stay up all night at the factory. When you’d asked where he slept, realising that the only bedroom in the trailer was the one decked out with posters and amps, Eddie had shown you the fold out bed in the living room with a close lipped smile. 

He is, more than anyone, due a day off. But you were gearing yourself up for being in Eddie’s bed tonight, trying to prepare the least awkward way of asking him. 

“And I’m happy to just hang out with you, sweet thing, you know that.” His hand squeezes, even the metal of his rings warm from his skin. “So we can go back to mine and watch MacGyver with the old man, or I could try to teach you some guitar again?” 

That’s tempting, certainly. You doubt sitting between Eddie’s legs with his arms around you, guiding your hands over his acoustic guitar was the most effective teaching method, but you certainly preferred it to any alternative. 

“But if you wanted,” Eddie continues. “Only if you wanted, I could maybe drive us to the quarry or something?” Eddie blinks, tucks some of his hair behind his ear with his free hand. “It’s, uh, quiet.”

Your heart beats a little faster, you can hear the sudden rush of it in your ears. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He asks, in that sweet way of his, wanting to make sure you’re not just acquiescing to everything he suggests. 

“Sounds good, I mean.”

“Okay,” he nods. “Belt on, sweet thing.” He gives your knee one last squeeze while you pull the belt over your front, then pushes away from the frame of the door. He taps a quick rhythm under the window when it’s closed, grins at you through the glass. You watch him jog round to the other side, hair flying out behind him, and wonder if every single thing he does will make you want him more. 

You sit in companionable silence while Eddie drives, feeling that soft comfort you only get with a few people, knowing that he’s not waiting for you to speak. You look out the window, watch the shops and gas stations disperse into houses which in turn give way to trees. All of them appear more as streaks of colour than clear pictures with the way Eddie drives, like he’s being judged on time. 

“Hey, can I play you something?” 

You turn from the window, taking a second to fully register the question before you hum a positive noise. Eddie’s right hand reaches out to turn on the stereo, the sudden attack to your ears of wailing guitar making you jump until he turns it down all the way with a sheepish smile, a murmured, “sorry.”

You watch Eddie’s hand, pale and lithe, as he skips through tracks. The metal chain that adorns his wrist is twisted a little at the leather clasp, and you reach to straighten it out with your thumb and first finger. When he’s found the right track, he turns it back up a touch, wiggles his fingers until you grab his hand. An urgent rhythm fills the van, the tell-tale guitars of all Eddie’s music, and he sighs, leaning back into his seat with a grin. 

“Hear the rime of the ancient mariner, see his eye as he stops one of three, mesmerises one of the wedding guests. Stay here and listen to the nightmares of the sea.”

Something clicks.

“Oh, that’s a Coleridge poem!” You lean forward to turn it up further with your free hand, trying to concentrate on the words. It tells the whole story from the lyrical poem you’ve had a copy of since you took an interest in the romantics when you were fifteen; a mariner who kills an albatross and is blamed for the resulting misfortune by everyone on his ship. 

“I knew you’d know it. My smart girl.” Eddie is the picture of pride, eyes crinkled at the sides. “I was reading a Steve Harris interview - he, uh, writes most of Iron Maiden’s songs? And he mentioned the reference and I just thought, you know, you might think it was cool.”

“I do.” You picture Eddie, soft and comfy in his bed, flicking through a magazine. You imagine him reading about his favourite thing, and a spark lighting in his head relating to you. Something that made him excited to share it with you. “Thank you, Eddie.”

He shrugs, like it doesn’t mean anything, but his cheeks are blooming with pink. You can’t say anything else, for fear of blurting out every thought running through your head. 

You listen in silence, trying to decide how you want to ask him. Every way to say it feels awkward and wrong. Fuck me, take me, have sex with me. You picture asking Eddie to make love and feel a mix of yearning and nausea. By the time you reach the quarry, you have been playing with the ring on Eddie’s right hand, feeling the smooth stone, twisting it round his finger, for a good five minutes.

Eddie steals his hand from you while he parks by the trees opposite the quarry, pulling the keys from the ignition and throwing them on the dashboard before reaching out to let you take hold of his hand again. The easy quiet is gone. You can feel him waiting for you to speak. Your mind screams at you to remain silent, hating the thought that you might risk humiliation with Eddie. 

“Will you look at me, baby?” Eddie pulls your hands from between you. You follow it with your gaze, watch him press a kiss to your knuckles before you meet his eyes. "I really didn't mean to, you know, imply anything by bringing you here."

You shake your head emphatically. “I know. You’d never.”

Eddie breathes a little sigh from his nose, looking relieved. You think he has to be the sweetest boy ever born, and then you can’t help yourself. Eddie makes a soft happy noise when you bring your face to his, lets you kiss his soft bottom lip. He licks softly at yours, so you open your mouth to let him in, holding back a whine and reaching up to play with the collar of his denim vest; the material rough and familiar in your fingers. 

Eddie pulls from you, licks his lips, and breathes, "I can't get enough of that." 

"Mm?"

"The way you grab at me when you get a little shy."

Your eyes widen, processing the reminder that your silly little habits are not as inconspicuous as you might wish to believe. Of course Eddie has noticed the way you fiddle with his hands, his rings, his hair, his clothes, the second you feel an uptick in the pace of your heart. But then, Eddie just said he likes it. 

"S'not annoying?" 

“Not for me! They call me Eddie the stress toy, you know. People used to come for miles around to give me a squeeze."

You laugh at his attempt at an earnest face. "Used to?" 

"Yeah, well, you got exclusive rights, these days." Eddie says, tilting his head with a touch of endearing shyness. “What kinda idiot would I have to be, not to like my girl touching me all over?”

You want him, want him, want him.

You press your heated face to his shoulder, still playing with the frayed denim of his collar while you mumble into the vest. “Eddie?” You feel the vibration of his answering hum against your cheek. “I want-” You shake your head, as if you could bury yourself into his clothes. “Can we-” You turn your face, looking at the seat behind, all the space there. 

Eddie strokes at your waist. “You wanna, uh, get in the back?”

At your quick nod, Eddie clasps your cheek with his warm hand. He tilts your head, kisses you soundly. “Stay right there.” 

Eddie jumps from the van, legs swinging, and jogs round to your side to open the door for you. “Princess,” he says, offering you his hand with a flourish. You giggle, jumping down towards him and letting him lead you round to the back of his van like a gentleman. Still keeping up the routine, he opens the back door and gestures with a bow before helping you up. 

The back is a scene of amps and wires, a bass drum with CORRODED COFFIN scrawled over the skin. Luckily there is space enough for the two of you, so you settle yourself in the middle, surrounded by enough little pieces of Eddie that the back of this van feels a little like home. When you look up, Eddie’s still outside, staring in at you.  

You press your knees together, turn them to the side. “Eddie?”

“Yeah-” his voice breaks. He tries to hide it with a cough, clearing his throat and giving his chest a couple taps with the side of his fist. “Yeah,” he repeats, deeper now, as he climbs up after you. When the doors are closed, Eddie shuffles towards you, half squatting. “So, you’re happy with the carriage, Princess?” You nod, throat tight when Eddie kneels down in front of you. “That’s good.” Something in his face changes, a spark of excitement in his dark eyes. “You wanna lay back for me?” 

The space between your legs pulses. “Mm.”

“Here,” he says, pulling off his jacket and rolling it up into a makeshift pillow. You lean back and he leans in to place it below your head, face above yours while you settle into the soft leather. His hair tickles your cheeks until he tucks it back, staring down at you. Your heart, your body, screams at you, ask him, ask him, ask him. Eddie kisses your neck quickly, shakes his head like he’s emptying out a thought. “Fuck, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had this dream.”

Again, ask him, ask him, ask him.

“Eddie,” you start, mind caught between the worry of how this will go and giving in to the gentle fuzziness of Eddie’s hands rubbing gently at your waist. You swallow, look to his eyes, then his forehead. “Will you-” The words catch, leaving you with a warm face and eyes squeezed closed in embarrassment. 

Eddie hums, gifts your cheeks his lips. His nose brushes the side of your face, and he murmurs. “Anything you want, pretty. Let me hear it, mm? ”

It’s Eddie, you tell yourself. From the first time you spoke to him, he’s never judged you for anything. He won’t judge you now. It’s Eddie, you repeat in your head. My Eddie. 

“I’ve never, um-” Your toes curl at the clear nerves in your voice, the beating of your heart that you swear he must be able to hear. “Nobody’s ever- Mmh.” 

“It’s just me,” Eddie says, thumb at your cheek. “It’s only me, sweet girl. Wanna know what you’re thinking.”

“I think,” you sigh, let some of the nerves out with it. “I think you’re beautiful, Eddie.” He blinks, surprised, but gives you a sweet smile when you touch gently at his pink cheek, feel the beginning of bristle under your finger. “And I want you. I mean, I want you to be first.” And second, and third, and every time after.

You stare at each other, breath heavy in your chest. Eddie’s eyes shine until he blinks it away. “Come- come here,” Even though he says it, he’s the one to lean down to you, giving you a chaste kiss that turns desperate when you reach up to play with his curls. 

Your head swims, relief and anticipation swirling together. A quiet moan escapes you when Eddie’s mouth moves to your jaw, down your neck. “Do you, um, have, like, protection?”

Eddie freezes. His face comes into view, brows furrowed. “Wait. You want me to fuck you right now?”

Oh. You hear the rush of blood in your ears, a ringing noise. You pull your hands from his hair, fingers curling, hands tucked to your chest. You suddenly wish he wasn’t on top of you, wish you could hide your face from him. Your head starts working overtime, supplying all the things he’s no doubt thinking about you now. You think of Erin, writing on the bathroom wall. Slut. Desperate. Whore.

“Hey,” he says, voice soft. Eddie presses his pointer finger to your temple, gives it a playful rub. “Are you doing that thing you said you do? Lying there convincing yourself you’ve fucked something up?”

A little part of you resents that he nailed it down so quickly, but you nod, blinking away the first bubbling tears, staring at the collar of his Metallica shirt rather than his face. “I just thought you’d want to.”

Eddie makes a soft noise at the back of his throat. “C’mere.” He pushes himself up from the floor of the van, grabs your hand to pull you with him. You end up curled at his side, knees just resting on the side of his thigh, his arm tucked around your shoulder as he leans you both against the back of the seats. You pull your sleeves over your hands, fidgety even as Eddie is rubbing at your shoulder softly. 

“Course I want to,” he says, leaning into you. “I wanted you on that picnic table. I want you all the time.”

That soothes you a little, enough that your right hand peeks out from your sleeve to play with the hem of his shirt. But your sensitive heart still throbs, tentative and sore. “So, why…?”

“I- Shit. Give me a minute.” Eddie hugs you tight for a second, then shuffles across the floor of the van, practically launching himself out of the back doors with a practised ease that makes you smile despite yourself. You can’t see him from here, but you hear him outside, the passenger door opening and closing behind you. When he returns, he’s got that metal lunch box he carries around with him. A different kind of confusion blooms when he sits next to you and opens it, rummaging through the little plastic bags of illicit substances. He pulls out a wad of rolled bills, a little chunkier than when you’d bought weed from him in the woods that first day.

“Wanna know what this is for?” Eddie asks, looking unusually serious when you glance at him. He opens his mouth then closes it again, eyes fixing on where he is thumbing at the band holding the bills together. “I thought you might ask me, eventually. Hoped you would, at least.” He breathes a laugh, pings the elastic. “So I’ve been saving up, you know?”

“Saving up?”

Eddie nods, turns his wide gaze to you with a tilted head. “Wanted to take you somewhere nice. Buy you dinner, something other than a burger or a pizza slice. Get a room at a hotel, with a big comfy bed. Thought I could show you-” He twitches, eyes flickering away from your face and back again. He swallows, shrugs. “S’like I said. I wanna deserve you.”

Your tense shoulders slump. Your chest aches. “Eddie,” you whisper, shaking your head. Trying again to blink away tears, you grab the roll of dollars from him, throw it back into that dumb obvious lunchbox. You climb up into his lap and wrap your arms around his shoulders. Your wet eyes meet his. “You don’t have to prove anything. You deserve-” Me, whatever you want, everything. Your fingers twitch. You close your eyes tight, ashamed you can’t look at him when you say it. “I think, all the time, about how much I wish I knew you earlier. It’s like, before, I just spent the whole time missing you.” You find it in you to look at him then, gaze at his pretty face; pink, lightly freckled, shiny under his eyes. “I want you, Eddie. I want to be with you wherever you are.”

You stare at each other, listening to the steady rhythm of your breaths until they move in sequence, chests expanding and contracting together. You get that same feeling you got when Eddie held your hand after touching you for the first time, how he listened when you told him about how you blow out of proportion in your head, the way he was angry for you when you recounted how Andy treated you. When Eddie told you that he couldn’t understand you liking him, that people have held him at arm's length for being too much, that he refuses to give up on school, believes wholeheartedly in his dreams. One moment at a time, you are peeling back layers, exposing soft tissue. You are offering each other all your hidden parts, whispering, please look after this with every squeezed hand and kissed cheek. 

Eddie sniffs, wipes his eyes. Seeing his shaky smile, hearing his wet laugh, is better than any soft bed in any hotel.

“That’s good, cause, uh, I really hadn’t saved that much.” You giggle together through lumped throats. “At the rate I was going, you were gonna be waiting till you were forty-five.” You shake your head at him fondly, reaching up to play with the feathers of hair that brush the side of his face. Eddie pulls you in closer, ducks his chin. “But I still can’t take your virginity in the back of my van, sweet thing,” he says. “It just wouldn’t be right. You should be in a bed, at least. And if you’re happy for it to be mine? I’ll just make sure my sheets are washed.”

You rub the soft ends of his hair between your fingers. “That sounds nice.”

“Yeah?” His hand comes to your cheek, helping you look at him. He must be able to feel the warmth of your face in his hand, but you lean into his palm anyway. When Eddie kisses you, it’s a gentle thing, a promise. 

When his tongue peeks out to lick into your mouth, it’s a request you’re happy to fulfil. Eddie groans at the taste of you, the sound of it registering across your whole body. Your hips roll subtly, and you feel the quirk of his lips. 

Eddie sighs into your mouth. “My pretty girl wants me to fuck her in my bed, mm?” 

The increasingly familiar zing of pleasurable shame zips up your spine. The air around you shifts, crackling like the split second of awareness before an electric shock. “Yeah, Eddie.” 

“But you need to be touched right now. So desperate,” he murmurs, the word that had mocked you minutes ago, now a warm tease. “So desperate you wanted to take my cock for the first time right here. In my van, parked by the side of the road.”

You shake your head, because you’re not really at the side of the road. Eddie was right when he said it’s quiet; nobody comes here. You’re about as likely to be found by the quarry as you are in his room. Eddie’s eyes light up with dark amusement, his hand drifting to the back of your neck. The pressure of his fingers there makes your hips twitch, your body recognising the signs, the promise of what’s to come when Eddie’s palm starts holding your head up. 

“No?” He asks, tilting his head, a teasing pout finding his pink lips. “You sayin’ I didn’t hear your right?”

Your toes curl. “No.”

The lines that run from the sides of Eddie’s nose to the corners of his lips deepen. “No, I did hear you right?”

“Eddie,”

“Ahh, yeah,” he breathes, wrapping an arm around your waist to help you lie back. He reaches out for his jacket, still rolled up on the floor, and places it back under your head. “That’s the good stuff.” You open your legs for him, let him settle his body on top of you, feeling the hardening length of him through denim and cotton at the apex of your thighs. Eddie licks his lips, tucks his hair back with a breathy laugh. “Shit. You got me thinking about it, now.”

Eddie sinks his face to your neck, the warm sting of his tongue making the mess between your legs increasingly hard to ignore. His big hand pulls at the hem of your skirt, lifting it up to your tummy. He glances down your body, eyes closing tight at the pale blue cotton cupping your mound, dark and sticky where it’s soaked up your wetness. “Wanna feel your little pussy on my cock so fucking bad. I can’t tell you how-” He cuts off a groan at the first run of his fingers over the wet material. “Christ. How many times I’ve thought about it.” 

You blink at him slowly, mind drifting into the calm of knowing Eddie’s going to make sure you both feel good. Your hips tilt naturally, helping him rub the curve of his finger over your clit through soaked cotton, then wiggling to help him more when his fingers hook into the elastic to pull them down your legs. Once they’re past your sneakers, he holds them in his hand for a second, rubbing his thumb along their centre. When you tilt your hips, pussy barely catching the rough denim over his crotch, his nostrils flare. “Don’t distract me, I’m holding precious cargo.”

He seems to settle on where to put them, draping the cotton over the top of one of the amps rather than letting them touch the floor. You giggle at his careful consideration, and Eddie’s dimples press into flushed cheeks. 

“You thought about it?” Eddie asks, watching your face when his thumb sweeps over your clit, noting the sensitivity before he starts up with tight circles that have you keening. “Thought about me inside you?”

He has to feel the new wetness between your legs that comes with your desperate nod. In truth, you’ve thought about it almost endlessly. You know it can hurt, have heard enough stories of virginity loss from the girls at the cheer table to know that it probably will. But when you imagine being close to Eddie that way, the only thing you can conjure up is the feeling of his fingers inside, how much further you’d have to stretch to take Eddie’s cock, the one that makes your jaw ache. Maybe the prospect should give you pause, but thinking about how Eddie would guide you through it sends excited shivers down your spine.

“Yes, Eddie.”

“You wanna feel my cock now?” He breathes, watching confusion flicker over your blissed face. “Know you like riding your pillow, sweet thing,” he says, your face hot at the memory of telling him how you masturbate. “But I think you might like rubbing up on me a little better.” 

Your clit twitches. You clench inside. Eddie either feels or sees the reaction of your body because he’s humming in excitement the next second, leaning down to kiss you, press his tongue to yours until you’re groaning into his mouth. He looks a little manic when he pulls away, hands scrambling with his belt when he throws himself to the side, lying on his back, ready for you to climb up on him. 

Without thinking, your hands catch his, stopping him from pulling at the loop. You squeeze his palms. “Let me?”

In answer, he moves his hands from his jeans, letting them rest flat across his stomach. You bite your lip, fighting the urge to sit on his thigh and grind against the denim just to get some instant relief. You reach out to the side of his head, grab his jacket and slide it to the back of his head. Eddie tilts his head up, lets you position it just so. You check, “comfy?” and he nods. 

Satisfied, you return to Eddie’s belt. The action of pulling at the leather is excitingly familiar to you now. The button of his jeans comes next, then his zip humming as you pull it down. His boxers are a soft check, the waistband positioned just under the first tufts of dark hair that lead to where Eddie is filling out the material. You think about his hands teasing your clit through your panties, mimicking him by brushing a knuckle over the mound peeking out from his zipper. It’s enough to make Eddie’s eyes squeeze shut, his fingers twitch. 

You hook your fingers into the elastic, start pulling them down. Eddie sighs in relief when his cock meets the air, hard enough to rise from his underwear the second he’s free. You imagine the stretch of him again, and clench down on emptiness. Eddie’s cock is a pretty pink all over. The furled skin at the top is a little shiny, and you know if you grasped his cock and pulled that skin back, his head would be wet with excitement. 

The thought strikes to just lean down and take him in your mouth, surprised to find that that’s already something of a comfort zone for you. But your clit throbs like it’s protesting, so you shuffle on your knees, feeling the sticky spread of your cunt when you open your legs to bracket his hips. You reach down, let yourself stroke Eddie’s cock just to hear the soft noise it draws out from his throat. You rub your thumb over that sensitive spot below his head, press his cock down until his length rests over the hair above it and the bottom of his soft tummy. 

With your free hand, you drift your hand between your legs, letting your fingers drift over your clit. You make a V with your fingers at the top, splitting your cunt open for him and feel a bone deep certainty that Eddie is the only person who could watch you doing this without real shame casting its shadow. 

“C’mon,” Eddie says, getting impatient. “Sit on it, use my cock how you want, just let me feel you.” 

Nodding, body instinctively wanting to follow his direction, you settle yourself on his cock. Eddie groans at the warm slick that surrounds him, hands immediately moving to your hips to help guide you. Your entrance flexes at the base of him, and he tries to pull you straight down like he could find more space between your lips for his girth. “Jesus Chri-”

Eddie’s words cut off with a choke when you glide yourself forward, hearing your wetness spread along his dick. You whine at the feeling, Eddie’s cock stimulating not just your twitchy button but your soft, clenching hole. Shifting back, your legs twitch when his head, exposed as the surrounding skin is pulled back by the clasp of your lips, catches just right against your clit. A few more blissful drags, and you are whining, hands flat against Eddie’s chest, fingers pulling at the softness of his shirt. 

You wiggle your hips, close to hysteria at how good it feels to have Eddie this close. Eddie grins up at you, the pride on his face making you all the more desperate. He looks overwhelmingly pretty like this, hair fanned out across his jacket, lips wet and swollen from his constant licking and your own kisses. His neck, as blushed as his face and his cock, is exposed and tense. His dark eyelashes that flutter every time his head drags over your clit and emerges from between your lips. His eyes, dark in the centre where his pupils have swallowed up mahogany, flicker back and forth between your face and where his cock vanishes and appears again, enveloped and released by the wet split of your pussy.

“You feel me now, mm?” He says, sounding hurried like he’s trying to get it out before his voice is swallowed up by groans. “Haven’t even taken three of my fingers, but you thought you could just lie back and take my cock?” You bounce a little when his head flicks your clit this time, torturing the swollen button with him a little longer. “Couldn’t’ve done it right, not how my desperate girl needs it. Just wanna make you feel good, you know?” 

“Feels good,” you murmur, wiggling your hips to feel his cock flex and shift over all the tender skin where you are most sensitive. “You always feel so good, Eddie.”

“Yeah? That’s it, that’s it.” Eddie’s fingers dig into your hips, no doubt leaving you with marks that will be satisfyingly tender by morning. “Fuck. Fuck, baby, I love you-r pretty voice.” He swallows, eyes now fixed on your pleasured face. “Love when you talk to me.” 

“Eddie, m’gonna-” You start to shake, and his hands grab at your hips, helping you keep moving along him even as the stimulation edges towards painful. 

“That’s it, cum on me. Let me feel it.”

Your body spasms, letting yourself move only with Eddie’s pushing and pulling as the throb of your clit spreads through your body, sends tingles up your spine. You feel your clit numb for a second, know enough now about your own body what that means for the intensity of your orgasm. You sit on that precipice, gasping in air. 

Pleasure bursts, has you shaking and moaning and, unbeknownst to you, repeating, “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” while the boy beneath you chases his own high, wanting to finish before you’re too oversensitive to keep your perfect warm pussy on him. 

Bending his knees, he grinds up into you, helping you slide along him. When he pulls your hips just so, and the tip of him barely catches the soft entrance of your cunt, Eddie finally cries out beneath you. The almost violent twitch of his cock between your legs makes you squirm, picturing that happening inside you. Eddie’s cum, thick and white, lands across his stomach in droplets, the last rope clinging to the tip of his cock in a way that, shamefully, makes your mouth water.

Sensitive, twitching, you rise from his body. Your shaking thighs fail you almost immediately, and you fall back on your butt between his open legs, a hand coming to cover your stimulated pussy like it needs protection. Eddie sits up, wipes his own hand across his stomach and draws his cum into his mouth with an ease that might surprise you if you hadn’t seen Eddie casually taste his own cum just about every time he’s orgasmed in front of you. 

This is what you meant, when you told May that being with Eddie is fun. Sex has always been something with disclaimers attached. Something to be enjoyed, but not too much. Something to get lost in, but not enough that you cross the line into acting slutty. It seemed to you like a tightrope nobody had shown you how to walk. 

And then there’s Eddie, who just watched you cum so hard on top of him that you immediately fell on your ass, and he’s grinning at you like he’s never been so proud of anyone in his life. “Now tell me that wasn’t way better than your pillow.” He reaches out for you, and you let him pull you into his arms, rest your head against his chest. You watch, warm in your face, while he tucks his softening cock, still covered in you, back into his boxers. “You feel okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, tracing the blue lines of lightning on his shirt with your finger. Your thighs twitch again, and you laugh together, soft and breathless. You settle into that post high afterglow, letting yourself be comforted by how surrounded by Eddie you are. His arm around you, his chest under your head. You can hear the way his heartbeat shifts from an intense rhythm to a steady beat under your ear. There’s another sudden uptick just before he speaks.

“I was missing you, too.”

You shift, look up at him from his chest, find him staring at the ceiling. 

“Sometimes my life has felt like being dealt one bad hand after another.” His gaze shifts then, eyes finding yours. “Now, I think, maybe I was saving up for something really good without realising.” 

Eddie Munson; town freak, rumoured Satanist, bad news for sweet girls like you, on the floor of his van, arms wrapped tight around you, says; “You’re a lifetime of good luck, sweetheart.”

And then you know. 

Next Part

[masivechaos]

KISS YOU WHEN I WAKE UP

drunk! remus lupin x gn! ravenclaw! reader

Request: yes / no

see the request here!

Synopsis: you are late for a party and Remus has the great idea to drink while waiting

Warning/content: mention being drunk, alcohol, kissing, fluff, my English

a.n.: 1.5k words- first real fic for the first time in a month youhou

masterlist/ marauders masterlist / navigation / taglist 

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.──

“You’ll be there tonight?”

Remus turned his head, his eyes finding yours. He couldn’t get what you just said since he was too focused on forcing himself not to stare at you and your endearing features. “What?” he said as he cleared his throat, trying not to seem flustered.

You shake your head with a chuckle “You’ll be there tonight?” you saw his eyebrows knitted together in confusion “The party I mean” You really wanted Remus to go. You loved parties, it was a break from school pressure and allowed you to relax for a night. Sure, you were grateful to be a fast learner but burnout was easy for a gifted child who craved academic validation. Anyone in Hogwarts who wanted to have great grades needed to sacrifice a part of their mental health.

But parties were there to help you. And Remus too. You had a long week and just wanted to rest your brain and the party was a good way but it would be even better if Remus was by your side for the entire night.

You held your gaze on the boy, trying to let him know with the look in your eyes that you wanted him to be there. His lips tugged up “Sure” he offered you the softest smile, his cheeks light pink. 

It was rare to see Remus being shy, he actually was the type to be sarcastic and teasing with everyone if he wasn’t just wearing a blank face. But you didn’t remark this, you were maybe smart but totally clueless when it came to other people’s feelings. That’s something your friends always made fun of. You were a total flirt but never knew if they flirted back, liked you and were just shy persons.

You grinned a large smile “Great!” you got up and brushed off the grass that was stuck to your pants. Remus and you decided to spend some time together near the Black Lake and it was now time to leave, you had a long week and wanted to take nap before the party.

Remus watched you as you took your bag off the floor and slid it on your shoulder. When your eyes landed on Remus, it seemed like he really wanted to smile but stopped himself from doing it, his pupils were shining and he looked genuinely happy. He truly was handsome.

“See you tonight!” you bent down, pressing a brief kiss to his scarred cheek. You quickly walked away, not seeing the hard blush on Remus’ face and his wide eyes, he had to take a deep breath and a good minute to get up.

:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Remus lifted his head, hoping to see you enter the room as he saw a group of students coming from the corner of his eye but unfortunately, you weren’t there yet. He was wondering where you could be and just wanted you to be by his side.

As he was lost in his own thoughts he felt someone grabbing his shoulder, he turned around with a small jump, not expecting any physical touch.

He faced a very smiling Sirius “Waiting for your lovebird?” he said with a wide smirk. Remus looked back at the entrance of the common room, rolling his eyes at his friend’s comment.

James came by their side “Who are we looking for?” he nudged Remus in the ribs, showing the crowd starting to form with a head movement.

“Y/n~” Sirius sang as he sent a wink to the tall boy who let out a sigh, hating that he was right. Remus didn’t even bother listening to whatever his best friends were talking about, you were the only thing in his mind at the moment.

But as the waiting began to be long and he started to overthink, he drank a glass of firewhiskey. Then two. 

It was his fourth glass when you stepped into the room, it was just the only way he found to spend time. His eyes met yours and his lips immediately extended into a wide smile.

He got up from the couch and that was the moment he realised how much he had drunk without break. Lily next to him let out a chuckle, knowing very well why he was in this state “Go get her” she laughed and Remus nodded as he headed to you.

He approached you, his hand grabbing your shoulder. You turned your head, smiling when you saw him. Without thinking you wrapped your arms around his middle, hugging him to express how happy you were to find him.

“I’m sorry for coming so late. I forgot to set up an alarm and woke up like 40 minutes ago.” you said with an apologetic smile. But Remus beamed down at you and breathed a quiet ‘It’s okay’.

You chuckled “How much have you drank already?” Remus let out a sigh before bringing you to his chest so you would shut up, with your face pressed against his shirt.

“Take a drink and leave me alone” he said grumpily but you could hear his smile as he talked. You pushed away from his embrace before walking to the buffet, shoving a few appetisers in your mouth and filling a glass.

You joined Remus on one of the couches, you could see he was more tactile than usual but you weren’t going to complain, his arm looped over your shoulders you felt protected and relaxed.

You felt his gaze on you as you did anything “What?” you laughed, your eyebrow raising as he was staring down at you.

Remus blushed and looked away “Nothing” he let out a long breath before looking at you from the corner of his eyes “You- You’re just really pretty” That’s it. He just said it. What he wanted to tell you since he first met you months ago.

“O-oh” you weren’t expecting this and warmth raised to your entire face. You had a foolish smile on your lips “You’re pretty too”

Remus didn’t know if it was because of the alcohol in his blood or just the genuine comment you just said, but he wanted to kiss you. His mouth was agape, looking at you in such admiration, he was adorable when he was flustered. 

It wasn’t the first time he had the urge to kiss your soft-looking lips but he never dared, you were so confident, he was even surprised you weren’t taken, every sane person would love to date you. But the new form of adrenaline gave him the confidence he didn’t have sober. He leaned down, his right hand cupping your cheek.

You knew what he was going to do. And you wanted the same thing as him. The only problem that was floating in your mind was ‘does he really want to kiss you? Or it’s just the euphoria of the night?’ “Wait” you whispered when his lips almost touched yours.

Remus cocked his head to the side. “Do you really want this? It’s not just alcohol?” you asked quietly.

The boy nodded eagerly “Of course, I wanted to since I first led my eyes on you” you grinned when he talked, that was the sweetest thing someone ever told you.

“You’re not going to regret this tomorrow morning?” you were scared your dream will disappear when you will wake up and Remus shook his head with wide eyes, he was begging you in silence and you couldn’t resist anymore.

“Just one.” his lips tugged down in disappointment “C’mon, if you still like me in the morning we will have plenty of time to kiss” This time you were the one initiating the kiss, your hand on his scarred cheek, tilting his head down so you could reach for his lips. He didn’t wait before kissing you back, his hand coming behind your neck.

Fireworks exploded in Remus’ stomach, he couldn’t believe what was happening. He never wanted to stop, he loved you too much to break the kiss right now.

You pulled away for air but Remus chased for your lips and you giggled. “I said one” Remus sighed, burying his face in the crook of your neck with a muffled groan. When you tore your stare away from him you saw all his friends looking at you with big smirks and you let out an awkward laugh.

Remus could feel your embarrassment and he gazed up at where you were looking. He grunted when he saw his idiots of friends “Leave us alone” he told them with furrowed brows before grabbing your hand to lead you to a more quiet place.

The said place ended up being his dorm. He just plopped down on his bed, waiting for you to join him. He made sure his face was close to yours, and it made you laugh “So I can kiss you when I wake up” he let you know before hugging you to sleep.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.──

⋆ ★ remus lupin taglist: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @sw34terw34ther @cauliflowertree @madison-rebel @moonlitmeeks  @rhydianissuperior @loveeharrington @mad-elia @jackys-stuff-blog @elenatries2write @princess-paramour @juneberrie @vintagepearlss @gilmore-angel @heartfucks @sparklenarniawizard @songs4themoon @moondemon123 @mystic-writings @siriusblackstwin @natashxromanovf @violetteshoneybee @unadulterated-syd @goodoldfashionedluvergirl @garfieldsladybird @kidcuisinesvcks @percy-the-hufflepuff @fairydxll

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Oooh oooh I have one!

Can you please do a one-shot smut for Zhongli x Reader (They/Them if it's alright with you) in an Office AU where they do it during their lunch break? Bonus if Itto accidentally stumbles upon them afterwards because it would be absolutely hilarious.

Only if you feel like it because I know life is exhausting. Please take care of yourself. ^3^

–♠️

This was written in a rush because I have things going on. No pronouns were used, but ik this anon irl (they’re just shy to reveal their face), so that is the only reason I’m doing an afab with gn pronouns for this. For anyone else though, please keep in mind that:

I do NOT write for male readers in any shape or form.

ALL not sfw works will ALWAYS be written with a FEMALE reader in mind.

Thank you for reading the above and please keep those rules in mind when requesting. You’d be surprised at the amount of requests I get which breaks nearly all rules in just one go. I am happy you send them in, but please read my rules beforehand. Thank you.

Zhongli x afab! Reader

No pronouns were used, but the body is that of a female autotomy.

Not-sfw warnings: office intercourse, unprotected intercourse, being walked in on.

Blog contains dark content/dead dove don’t eat. Dni if you are uncomfortable with said content.

Minors/blank blogs dni or you’ll be blocked.

I hope you enjoy this!

==

Lunch break was to end in thirty minutes.

Thirty minutes to eat, as you should, unpacking your lunch in the small cafeteria instead of being pressed against the wall, losing your breath as Zhongli kisses you. It was gentle, innocent at first, a simple peck. And it was supposed to remain at that, not develop into something deeper, breathless, his tongue swiping over your teeth as you cling onto the outer jacket of his suit. You made no protest when he gently backed you into the wall.

Distantly, you can hear the chatter of people passing by the door, and while you should be worried about someone opening the door and seeing the scene before them, the moment his lips travel to your neck, pressing against your sweet spot. You could no longer think straight. So, you let him suck lightly, enough to feel the suction that draws a hushed whimper from your kiss-swollen lips, but soft enough to not leave any type of physical evidence.

With the last remaining braincell containing commonsense, you quietly thank him for making sure to close the door.

It doesn’t take long for your pencil skirt to be bundled up at your waist, panties pushed aside. His own pants were unzipped, cock out, and with enough prep, he slid in oh so painfully good. As always, it stung a bit, felt heavy even, whispering for him to remain still lest he hurt you. He does as you say.

“You’re… you’re never like this at work. What’s gotten into you?” You breathe out, muscles relax as the second’s pass. Looking behind him, you spot the clock on the opposite wall. You now have fifteen minutes.

“Mm, I should have waited. We could have taken our time, then,” voice as smooth as ever, Zhongli kisses your lower jaw, trailing his lips until it reaches the pulse of your neck. And then he travels lower until he’s at the juncture and nibbles it. “But… I just couldn’t resist you today, it seems. I apologize for acting out of character, but even I have moments of weakness.”

“At work of all places?” you giggle out, only for it to melt into a moan, Zhongli slowly pulling out before gently thrusting back into your very welcoming cunt. “Mm, we only have fifteen minutes… I’m not sure if we can finish on time – “

When his thrusts become harsher, more passionate, you find yourself breathless, unable to think straight, and for a moment, you really do think that you’re about to suffocate. Apparently, your brain decided that focusing on mind-melting pressure was more important than taking in gulps of air. Another thrust has your fingers digging into his shoulders, letting one of his hands hold up your leg for better access.

Even though it aches, you remain silent on the matter, eyes shutting tight as you let the pleasure overtake you. However, part of your mind is still there, and thus, you bite your lower lip, suppressing any sinful noises that may leak through the walls and doors.

But you couldn’t do anything about the skin slapping against skin, but to keep the pace as slow as possible, trying to build up to your climax.

Ah, but before you could even reach the pleasurable buildup, lower belly tightening and clit throbbing, the door opens.

“Oh, hey, have you seen –,”

The door slams closed immediately afterwards.

It wasn’t until the next day where you saw Itto, his face red and awkward around the two of you. And it wasn’t until later that you found out he left his phone behind in the office, and that at first, it was going to be Shinobu who was going to look for it.

Perhaps this was a sign to never do such a thing in the office ever again.

[hiuythn]

Have you watched the Haikyuu movie? Do you enjoy it? I love it !! For me, my top fav Haikyuu ships are : KageHina, IwaOi, KuroKen, & BokuAka. (And you're Iwaoi fics are my fav until now, thanks for sharing them).

Now, can I ask your thoughts, please? Iwaoi and Kuroken are childhood friends to lovers ship, what made those 2 ships different to you? What made Iwaoi more famous? Also, what do you think of Ushijima/Oikawa and Oikawa/Kageyama ships?

Since which moment that you ship Iwaoi? What are your fav Iwaoi moments?

Sorry for my long ask, feel free if you want to answer or not.

guys with all these delicious asks you're sending in, I'm going to be stuck on my couch for the whole night...keep em coming

YES I enjoyed the dumpster battle movie, the animation was so good, the story beats and sfx and kenma's POV and idk how they managed to make a volleyball rally seem like a fight to the death but my god. I wanted to eat the movie

I think iwaoi and kuroken are different in that iwaoi are very much "equally pulling on each other's hair and spitting into each other's desserts and running after each other with a worm on a stick" type of dynamic. it makes for a very turbulent and fun pairing, and adding to that, the angst that inevitably comes along due to oikawa being so passionate about vball and iwaizumi...iwaizumi being Just Good Enough to play with him until the end of highschool. add to that the angst of oikawa being recognized as The Grand King setter, while iwaizumi always seems like a footnote. ah the childhood friend, ah the grand king's first wing spiker yes—but not his best. although iwaizumi himself has never once said he felt inadequate or left behind, you just can't help but wonder, can't help but feel it yourself, this gulf that spans the point from oikawa to iwaizumi. I don't think iwaoi is more famous in the way that means they're better, I just think it shows that people like it when things hurt hahahah

kuroken I would say is like a ball of fluff, like cotton candy, easy to swallow and easy to enjoy. or no, maybe you could say they're definitely simply just childhood friends, without all the drama that oikawa brings to iwaoi HHAHA. I wouldn't call the ship bland though, because if you peel back the layers of fluff, you rmr it's not just about quiet x loud, or small x big, or gamer x hot guy, which are labels that kuroken is often find themselves in—but that actually, kuroo has such an understated comprehension of how kenma has such a killer instinct, that kenma actually can get Serious, if you manage to get him in the zone. people will tell him kenma doesn't seem to like vball much, or that kenma seems too frail or too lax or too unsuited to exertion, and kuroo will just hum and smile like, well. if kenma didn't like it, he wouldn't do it. and that easy acceptance, that unspoken understanding that kenma never even had to tell him—somehow it just gets me. sometimes easygoing ships just hit different, when they're so comfortable with each other. like how kenma will tease kuroo with a blank-face by giving him mint candy when he knows he doesnt like mint. like they're already settled in together, what more can you say about them. also kenma being younger than kuroo is kinda cute, considering how shy kuroo was when they first met.

as for ushioi and oikage, I can definitely see where fans of those ships are coming from. I mean I once read a Yamaguchi/Oikawa fic and i rmr it being surprisingly good. the sheer amount of content, conflict and drama that oikawa brings with him to any ship is just so typical of him. of course he has to bring out the best in everyone he's matched with, that's just what a good setter does. ushioi and oikage are so rife with history and bad blood and competitiveness and hurt pride, I can only imagine how so good it is to write and read about the journey they take to make it to an end where the 2 characters are together and united. sometimes the journey fraught with strife is just as delicious as the happy ending.

I can't rmr the exact moment I started shipping iwaoi, just because it was so long ago, but prbably...I think it was probably when iwaizumi stopped oikawa from going to jail by committing manslaughter on poor little tobio when they were in middle school. and then yelling at him to go home and take care of his knee. iwaizumi's palpable concern masked as anger was so...yeah, i was like damn oikawa if you don't wife that guy up, I will.

and lastly, all iwaoi scenes are my fav, just bc we get so little, but my favs have to be the "you're a partner I can be proud of" scene; the "when oikawa feels threatened, there's only one person he sets to" scene, set up by Kageyama himself; the scene where oikawa points at iwaizumi for his last ever set in highschool and then proceeds to do an insane long ass set from across the court straight to iwaizumi: and lastly, the little sketch where iwaizumi is showing oikawa a book of fish and there's one named 'oikawa', looking so pleased with himself while oikawa is just like "..."

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

Hello !! I’m here for the CoD matchup !! -feigned 💌

-I’m Asexual, i’m attracted to all genders as well!

-My personality type is INFP-T-

-I’m relatively average in height, around 5’6/5’7

-I’m not a very loud person, I tend to avoid conflicts, and I’m quite the people pleaser at times

-I have social anxiety and often struggle with loud noises + crowds

-I’m a bit introverted when it comes to meeting people, and awkward, but when I get to know someone I tend to be more open, and crack more jokes with them

-I have various interests, but I really like studying up on niche subjects, my favorite being mycology!

-I also don’t have any preferences when it comes to looks / gender of my partner

(Tried to keep this short for u bcus i know those long matchup asks can be a pain 😭💌)

I'd match you withhhhhhh

Nikto! (I'm sorry if you don't like this one)

Just so you know, I try to write him as realistically as possible, but this is just my interpretation. He's a character, and has no solid set-in stone personality.

that being said, here you go :)

Okay so I know a huge chunk of people getting a matchup end up getting Simon (i think it's because he's really popular, and not bc they actually match up good) when someone says they're quiet or an introvert, but from what you've told me, I think Nikto fits better for you.

A bit of important backstory for him:

He was a deep cover agent for Russia's Federal Security Service but on a mission he was taken by someone named "Mr. Z" and was tortured. His face and body are covered in scars, extremely so. He wears a mask to cover his face, always. Due to what happened to him, he developed Acute Dissociate Disorder. It shows a good amount in his voice lines. He refers to himself as "we" a lot and talks about how he hears voices.

"I hear enough voices, I don't need another!"

"Nobody hurts our friends and gets away with it!"

He's a very "get shit done" guy. He does make some dry humor jokes though.

Due to how he always is hearing someone talk (in his head) I think he would really appreciate someone who is quiet. Not that he wouldn't want to talk to you, but you being on the more quiet side definitely helps him adjust. You being able to find a creative way around some of his struggles would help a lot. For example; Where a lot of people would be like "why don't you just stop saying we instead of I", which would cause a sort of tension between them and him, you would let him refer to himself as "we" but you would continue to say "you" as a subtle grounding.

(Just an example, not a solid thing)

I feel like he would really like your niche interests. It's hard to truly keep his attention outside of work, especially if they're just common things. So if you were to be reading a book on fungi in Russia, he might see that and be like "wtf?" and interest might be piqued. Idk I feel like he wouldn't really be interested in things unless they were niche (that's where you come in!). He'd probably make some dry as joke that isn't even that funny, but his blank stare and dead delivery would be hilarious.

You both struggle with social anxiety and don't like social settings. He's a soldier, so he has ways to sort of deal with it. If you're really uncomfortable or are worried something will happen, he's right there with you with a hand on your back (it also helps him ground himself when the thought of something happening to you pops up). He's very loyal to those who actually get through to him. Say you're talking to someone who is making you uncomfortable. He'd probably just say something to you, in front of them, like "we're leaving" and just bring you with him. He's socially,, idek. He's awkward. Not in a shy way, just a "wtf are social rules" way. He means well, have mercy.

Once he gets close to you, and realizes he wants you in his life, that's it. Unless you try to take his mask off without his permission, or betray him, he's staying. He loves like a dog. A feral, hungry, desperate for scraps dog. You know the ones. The street dogs that will fight anyone and cling to you when you give them bread. They're still aggressive, just not towards you. Just a bit rough around the edges.

I see a lot of people writing him as sexist or homophobic, but I really don't see him that way. Honestly, I think what happened to him really changed how he thinks. I think a lot less means anything to him. He has to go fight in literal wars, who gives a fuck abt who wants to be with who? Who cares about women wanting to be independent? I don't think he cares. He barely talks to people as is, why would he care about what they do?

I can almost guarantee that if you get hurt, he's gonna take care of you. He's used to the major injuries (broken bones, deep cuts, etc) so he might think he needs to take care of your small ones the same way. He's trying. He cares about you. He's learning.

One thing you'll never need to worry about is him cheating or leaving you. He very rarely lets people in, and never thought he'd find love, but he found you. You're his, he's yours. Simple.

As for sex, not even an issue. I think he could either be hypersexual or asexual. Let's go with asexual for this matchup. I said he cares about a lot of things less than before his torture, and I mean it. A common occurrence with PTSD or just being recently traumatized is lack of interest in things, and that can include sex. I think his sex drive is basically nonexistent. He might jack off, but that's really so there aren't physical issues. It takes him a really long time to warm up to touches, even if they're kind ones. Sex wouldn't even be on the table. If you don't pick up on this, and tell him you're asexual, he'd probably shrug it off. He'd probably just say something like "me too" (after you explain it) and that would be that.

Learning to cuddle or initiate contact would be an interesting experience. He probably would stiffen up when you hold his hand for the first time. But after a while of gentle touches and soft words of how these are safe touches, he'd grow to like them. It would take a while, but he'd get there.

He cares. He wants you, and he'll do his best to do good for you. No relationship is perfect, but growing together is a big part of them.

[ms-gallows]

Leon Kennedy headcanons: Romantic Relationships

Reposting because tumblr ate it. Based on RE4 Remake Leon.

I said in a previous post that RE4 Remake Leon reminded me a little of Mr. Darcy. With his crush, he’d be more quiet than usual. Unsure of how to act on feelings (or if he should) and worried how his crush would react. Being slightly curt with his crush. Trying to sneak some stares and looking away just as he’s about to get caught. They would be certain that he dislikes them, when he’s really just nervous. They would never guess he had a crush on them  because he’d seem so distant. But he would do some nice things behind the scenes. Overhear you saying you need to buy some trivial thing, you come back the next day and it’s on your desk. Stiffly suggests going out together, but just casually, of course. It’s not like he likes you or anything. Puts on a serious face and asks if you’d like to get coffee:

This is exactly the face he makes when he asks. This is a very serious situation. “Coffee. Would you join me for some?”

(RE2 Leon would have handled it differently. Still shy and awkward, but definitely less businesslike. More prone to blushing and chuckling nervously. “I was..um...wondering if you’d like to get some coffee. Sometime. Anytime-uh..”)

Now I think this cold/distant approach I’m describing is something that happens if Leon is actually romantically interested in someone. If he’s just looking to fuck he’s more suave and flirtatious. So if he has a one-night stand that turns into something more, his partner is going to be in a very awkward situation while he figures his shit out. He doesn’t seem like a romantic person, but the want for romance is definitely there. He’s just very pragmatic and task oriented. But in his heart of hearts, he wants something deep and intimate; a melding of two souls. He just doesn’t really indulge in those feelings because he thinks it won’t happen for him.

If someone gives him a very heartfelt and sincere compliment, he doesn’t really know what to do. He gets flustered internally and it doesn’t compute. Just kind of goes blank. That, or he laughs it off. Did they really just say that? Do I need to get my hearing checked? When pursuing women, he’s definitely got an urge to be gentlemanly. It can come off as a little traditional. He’s definitely egalitarian in his beliefs, he just falls back on convention with dating, ie: paying for dinner, giving his date his coat if she gets cold, etc. When pursuing men, that’s where he’s out of his element. In my headcanon, Leon didn’t accept he was into men until he was an adult. With women, he falls back on the conventions of dating, but with men, he has to rethink it. Do we split the bill? Do I pay? Does he pay? It’s easier for men to make him blush as well. When pursuing enbys, he’d be more careful and anxious. He’d probably still unconsciously take up a masculine role, but he’d ask a lot more about how they’d prefer he act. He doesn’t want them to be uncomfortable around him. Pays careful attention to how they want to present one day to the next if they’re fluid. (God damn it I want a fic of Leon finding out his crush is non-binary lol) Leon might take a little time learning to work with neurodivergent partners, but once he learns what they need, he’s very patient, understanding, and attentive to their needs. (sidenote: I adore autistic Leon headcanons)

Ends up dating normie women a lot, but has a soft spot for alternative   women/men/enbys. They tend to enjoy the same music as him so he likes that. I get this feeling from Remake Leon specifically. I feel like OG Leon wouldn’t be interested in alt people that much.

Artistic types are foreign but intriguing to him because he doesn’t have a creative bone in his body. It would be so funny to see him getting with an academic nerd type? “I don’t care for this architecture. Who pairs Corinthian columns with Ogival arches?” “Yeah babe, it’s terrible.” (has no idea what they’re talking about) “Whoever is responsible must pay for this assault on my senses.” “I’ll get on that.” (sarcasm) He’s drawn to people who are intelligent and compassionate. People who are mature and capable of deeper discussion. Likes people he can learn from. Also a plus if someone can defend themselves or is willing to learn to. He doesn’t want to worry about their safety. It’s one of the main reasons he doesn’t look for a partner (for now...I’m sure there’s a breaking point. A dark sense of humor is also appreciated, though he typically makes sure to be sensitive with serious subjects himself. If you can get him to do a double take with a dark joke, he’s going to remember you. End: feel free to give feedback!

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

if asks are still open!

Can i request like how would Edge (or any other edgy skelly) react to an S/O whos like 6'0, has tattoos and a pierced tongue,septum piercings,knows what they want,arent afraid to commit to challenges and is very polite despite their pulled-back demeanour. Oh and they also like to flirt a lot

Underfell Sans - That's his style, though you're always find yourself in good cop-bad cop situations with Red being the bad guy and you trying to calm him down when he gets a bit too excited. You're flirting non-stop and it's annoying everyone around you, but somehow you don't seem to realise it. At all. Red is a bit less happy when you're flirting with other people though. That's his way to communicate affection how dare you use it on other people.

Underfell Papyrus - He's a walking tomato. He doesn't know how you're doing this, but every time he is looking at you more than five seconds, he is blushing furiously. WHY? What are you doing to him? He has no control over his feelings anymore. Just smile at him and his soul sems to the edge of explosion. He doesn't know. There's something about you that is disturbing him. A lot. The worst part is the flirting. He tries to work on punchlines to make you shut up but everytime you flirt with him, his mind goes entirely blank and he doesn't know what to do anymore. He's madly in love, everyone tells you they never saw Edge like this before.

Horrorfell Sans - You're stubborn, he's stubborn, you're like an old couple, always arguing about little thing one second and flirting like hell the next one. You're so confusing to everyone around you. Do you love or hate each other?

Horrorfell Papyrus - When people don't talk him seriously because he is in his wheelchair, he's using you to intimidate people. You call yourself his body guard jokingly because of this. But despite being tough and all, like Edge, any sort of flirting will instantly breaking him instantly. It's even worst because he can't storm out of rooms like he used to be and you're always teasing him when he's rolling away slowly, the face entirely crimson.

Swapfell Sans - He will insist you're matching clothes so everyone gets envious of you two. Nox has a main character syndrom and wants everyone to look at the two of you because he feels so proud. Be careful, he might ask to wear purple sometimes in the future so everyone knows you're his S/O and this is going to be embarassing.

Swapfell Papyrus - You're reminding him of his brother, in more funny. He can stop teasing you like he's teasing Nox though. You two have the same reaction and he can't get over it. You better team with Nox against him at some point before he goes wild.

Fellswap Gold Sans - You noticed he's wearing higher heels these days to desperatly try to be as tall as you but it's never working. He's quite pissed off about it, Wine hates to be little spoon. You find it's cute how much he tries to be taller next to you but never manage and you keep teasing him by kissing the top of his skull just to watch him explode in a (little) ball of rage.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - Oh you know, as long as you are a good cuddler, he really doesn't mind what you look like. He likes that he can be a little spoon in your arms though because he is pretty tall and he has difficulty to curl up against his partners usually. He might try to make you wear more colours than black though, he thinks you look too much like Wine when you're serious.

Dancefell Sans - He's all shy and impressed around you, always blushing. He thinks you're way too cool for him and that he is so lucky. When you're flirting with him, he's just staring at you with loving eyes though and it can be a bit creepy.

Dancefell Papyrus - He's the extraverted one who goes in front of the cameras and you're the one doing death glares at everyone in his shadows if they dare to be jerks to their husbando or if you want to have alone time and make them flee in fear to leave you two some space.

Mafiafell Sans - This is an eternal game of flirting between the two of you and everyone screams at you to shut up everytime because you just can't stop. He has some piercings too. With his six big pit bulls and your frowned face, you're feeling so powerful when you're walking the dogs because everyone tries to get out of your way.

Mafiafell Papyrus - You're the cliche of the mafia chiefs couple. Everyone are both scared and inspired by you two when you're in a room. Torpedo loves this feeling and he's very proud when he's around you, acting all strong and all just to impressed you more. You just have to flirt with him so his little ego explodes and he starts blushing furiously.

[paracosmicat]

PLEASE talk about your Sentibug

AN OPPORTUNITY TO TALK ABOUT HER? 🐞❤️ (I LOVE YOU)

In my AU, the way she is able to be brought back is through the Peacock Miraculous. I personally think Adrien’s interest, now that he is free, should be Miraculous lore because it’s a natural side step given how much freedom and happiness his Miraculous has brought him and it would give Chat Noir a much bigger role to play in their hero business. (Also it makes more sense for him than for Marinette, because the Miraculous has been a chain, the opposite of what it has been for Adrien) And where does his research take him? Exploring the Kwagatama and uncovering that Sentibeings lives and memories are stored within the Miraculous, able to be brought back so long as they are willing.

That was my very long winded way of saying, Adrien had never really gotten over her death so he works with Félix to bring her back.

AND SO

Given that Adrien was the one to fight for her, he takes it upon himself to make sure she has a place in the world. He introduces himself to her as Chat Noir, but offering her a place to stay at his house does require that he reveals his identity. (Which, gives Adrien someone in his corner, which I love)

NOW

Figuring out her identity is something they work together on. Adrien nicknames her Coccinelle, French for Ladybug, as a temporary nickname and a way to differentiate their hero forms. I think she continues to use this for her hero form name as she helps them when needed, same with the other heroes.

Speaking of hero forms, I think it would be really funny if she could still do Lucky Charms but they were always insanely oversized weapons.

BUT FOR HER CIVILIAN FORM

The insanely talented @belowthesurface drew my vision of her civilian form!! And I will be using this art to make my next points and because oh my god did I mention how talented Moonie is???

I think Adrien finds it important to find her a name that she likes, so he researches it with her. They eventually come across Mireille, which means miracle/miraculous. As @ninadove pointed out, it’s also a bit older of a name which is suiting for her vibe given that a lot of it is a reflection of Nathalie’s touch!

As you can see their facial structures are similar but different. I would describe her features as Nathalie “filling in the blanks” much the same as when you see someone wearing a face mask.

As for style, I’ve made this joke so many times but I feel like her style is Nathalie’s “what are the teens wearing these days?” Very formal and business casual while still looking really really good.

And you know who would love her??? Félix!!! A Sentibeing who went against orders and paid the price but ended up making it in the end? A representation of his cousin making decisions for himself and refusing to repeat the awful patterns of the people before him? He would be ecstatic.

Her personality would be very sweet, shy, and lovey. It would be easy to say she had Ladybug’s leadership and determination, but she immediately agreed to doing “whatever you say, Ladybug” and she did not quip back at Chat Noir when Ladybug did. She was designed to be a sweeter softer version of her, one that Chat Noir would fall for, I think her personality follows suit!

Btw, anyone is welcomed to create content with her, if you so please. I love her I want more of her.

[nohoney]

Touya sits on his chair, ready with his sketchbook and pencil in hand, watching with the rest of the class as the teacher circles around the blank space that the model is supposed to stand in. Reminders again to not focus too hard. Not too fast not too slow either. The model will change poses or props after fifteen minutes.

The art teacher waves their hand over and feet quietly pad over to them at the very center of the circle.

The robe slips off your body and the art teacher takes it for you, allowing you to make your first pose for the class.

He sketches your back and shoulders first, graphite put to paper to draw the lines of your curves and how your hair is styled as well. Looking up occasionally, he admires the lighting against your skin and his gaze lingers a little longer than it’s supposed to.

“Next pose.”

It’s your profile this time and something in him is a little nervous for some reason as he tries to draw a decent reflection of you into his sketchbook. Touya doesn’t know why; it’s not like you’ll see it. He focuses on your body and draws the curve of your breast, drawing a little point that’s supposed to be your nipple.

He imagines his hand placed right at your ribcage with his thumb brushing underneath your soft tit.

Touya clears his throat and tries to clear his mind of what just popped up. There’s nothing sexual in nature about drawing nude figures; in fact one would consider it almost clinical. It’s only strictly for learning anatomy.

But did they have to choose a model so hot this time?

You change into the next pose which is of you lounging in a chair and facing towards his direction. He wonders what you’re thinking of to pass the time. Your legs are drawn onto paper and Touya imagines what it’d be like to run his hand along your thighs. He wonder if you’d be nervous if he did, he’s been told his hands are cold. But maybe you’re not shy seeing as you’re quite comfortable being drawn nude by strangers.

“Don’t focus too hard on where her waist goes up.”

Touya’s a little startled but he nods his head. Only the bottom half of you had been drawn by him so he rushes a little to sketch your upper body on the chair. This time he has full view of your tits and your face. He glances again and he sees that your eyes are set forward as if looking at him.

It’s just a pose though, probably looking past him and needing to stay still—

No. He swears that you are actually looking at him.

“Alright, small break everyone and then we’ll do two more times before dismissal.”

The art teacher gives you your robe and walks you off to the side. Most of the students stand up from their chairs and stretch their body. Touya’s sketchbook is set down and he remains in his chair as he lets out a quiet sigh. He feels guilty; he has a boner. And of all days to wear sweatpants too.

But he calms down enough after a few minutes and glances to where you’re at. You’re speaking with some of the other students and having a little laugh. He wonders how you can feel so comfortable knowing that the very people before you know what you look like with no clothes on.

Ugh, I sound like such a prude.

The break is announced over and you’re back in the center with the robe taken away. The chair rotates to a different direction and Touya notes how you angle your head, resting your cheek into your palm and drawing in a breath before exhaling. He sees how your eyes glaze over and you drift off to whatever la la land keeps your mind busy as your body is used for anatomical purposes.

Class is dismissed and Touya is slow to pack his things. He wonders if he can catch one last glance of you before he leaves the campus. You’re dressed up in comfortable clothes and talking with the art teacher near the entrance. A tote bag hangs on your shoulder along with a carabiner of your keys and keychains clipped to the strap. He finds your style quite cute.

He’s all packed up and ready to leave, being the last student to vacate the studio. Giving a passing nod to the art teacher, he hears you say, “Yeah I’d love to come back and model again for this class.”

Touya steps out the studio and walks to the exit. He hears the door of the studio close from behind and he looks over his shoulder. You share a glance with him before giving a smile and a wave. He only returns the latter.

He’s in his bed, looking over the page that consists of your body. Touya critiques himself quietly, running his finger along where he thinks he drew your legs too long or that the bend of your arm doesn’t look quite right to him.

Next time you stand for the class again, he silently promises to himself to draw you a little better.

[anonytitty]

Alhaitham piss hcs

due to lack of alhaitham piss content I have come to provide

Doesn’t have a piss kink but finds himself in these situations where he has to go badly quite often

most of the time if his urgent and kaveh is at home they get into an argument bcs alhaitham is pissy (get it? The pun? I’m so funny) with a full bladder

alhaitham thinks hes sneaky but kaveh can tell how weak his bladder is. In fact kaveh is the one with a piss kink but doesn’t go so far as to force alhaitham into situations where he pisses himself.

when alhaitham pisses he heaves, whether it’s a light or heavy heave depends on how full his bladder was. (Did I use heave correctly? My English isn’t so good)

alhaitham used to experience accidents during his akademiya days in his dorm room where he held it because of his workload, but no one found out and he will take that secret to the grave.

when close to having an accident his mind starts to blank because he doesn’t like (fears) not being in control and his last resort is clamping his thighs together and pushing his hands against his crotch

is a light but frequent leaker. He can’t help it. Sometimes the leaks turn into accidents.

alhaitham holds for hours at a time despite him half assing his work and having a lot of free time ,bcs the walk from the akademiya to his house takes quite some time and his a pee shy guy, preferring to piss in his own toilet, plus a lot of students go to him for opinions and he needs to interview graduates to decide whether they receive funding and it takes a long time.

bounces his leg under his desk quietly when he needs to go

sometimes he takes a plastic bottle from his secret recycled collection in his office when he really needs to go and has held it in for too long, careful to avoid pissing with too much noise in case a student barges in suddenly. Most students just assume he likes to drink green tea when they see the bottle. Also a really awkward experience for him when his pissing beneath the table with his thighs holding onto the bottle under the desk while he talks to a student, whilst trying hard not to piss bcs pee shy.

if the leaks become so much it’s visible he’ll use his half cape thing to cover himself. Thankfully people don’t really notice his presence or care enough, so nobody (except kaveh but alhaitham doesn’t know that) knows about this but alhaitham can’t help but feel embarrassed when he has to do this

there may or may not have been one time where kaveh sneaked a diuretic into alhaithams morning coffee and took alhaitham keys with him, and came back to see alhaitham crouching and gripping onto his crotch, with his thighs rubbing together and bouncing in a desperate attempt to hold. kaveh hid when he saw that and decided to wait a bit longer to test the waters (GET IT??? THE PUN???) and when alhaitham seemed very close to pissing himself than did kaveh decide to save him the embarrassment and step onto the grass and signal his return extravagantly so that alhaitham would think he just came and can pretend to be alright by standing up so fast an un alert person wouldn’t catch it. kaveh, on the other hand is very observant, and didn’t miss the small trail of piss trickling down his black leggings, but kinda sad that he doesn’t get to see alhaitham face and wet crotch bcs the moment he opens the door alhaitham just runs in and locks himself in the bathroom. (Alhaitham had the accident just was the door closed, his black leggings drenched is piss)

that’s it for now, I might type the above point into a fanfic. Meanwhile drop your alhaitham omo bcs and your scenarios below, I really really would love to see them!!! (I am deprived pls I’m begging you)

also why did it take so long for this to appear in the hashtags I’m new to this app lol

[rayan12sworld]

💠🧡Craquelure & Coverups

By:Inessencedivided

Summary:

It starts with a harmonica, rabbits and a stranger standing in Wei Ying’s tattoo parlour.

He asks for a sun over his heart and a dizi player, blue gentians and calm waters over the scars marring his back.

And Wei Ying? Wei Ying tries his best to pretend he hasn’t seen it all before.

Chapter:1/1

Words:27,165

Status:completed

“I think we were lovers in a past life.” Wei Ying is surprised that he has to stiffle a sob. He abandons his tracing of Lan Zhan’s tattoos to lay his fingers flat against his chest and feel the heart-beat there. For a moment, neither of them speak. Wei Ying feels his eyes grow heavy. They’ll need to clean up soon if they want to avoid having a very unpleasant experience in the morning. Wei Ying is about to suggest getting up, when Lan Zhan speaks again. It sounds like he choked up in the time that Wei Ying calmed down. “How many lifes do you think it took?” The question is incomplete, but Wei Ying understands him anyway. He leans up on his elbows, so he can look at Lan Zhan. Although Lan Zhan’s features are as blank as ever, his eyes are indeed glistening with unshed tears. “I don’t know,” he admits, mouth curving apologetically. When a tear spills from the corner of Lan Zhan’s eye, he reaches up and catches it with his forefinger. “We’re here now. Isn’t that enough?” Lan Zhan nods and Wei Ying believes him. Still, the sadness doesn’t leave his face. Wei Ying feels his heart breaking for him as a physical ache in his chest. “Hey,” he says and presses a kiss on Lan Zhan’s sternum, the easiest place he can reach without having to move from his place on top of Lan Zhan, “what is it? There is something else, right?” He layes his head on Lan Zhan’s chest again, ear over his heart and gives him the time he needs to answer. While he waits for Lan Zhan to find the words for what he wants to say, he gently lays his hand over the place where his scar travels down his flank. Lan Zhan doesn’t shy away from the touch. In fact, it seems to bring some of the words he intends to say to the surface. “What if it takes us another hundred lives to find each other again?” The thought sends a spike of pain through Wei Ying’s heart. But he breathes through it and swallows around the lump in his throat before he speaks. “If we found each other among over seven billion people, don’t you think we will do so again?” He feels Lan Zhan shift under him and when he looks up, Lan Zhan has raised his head from where it rested on Wei Ying’s pillow to look at him. “What if this is just a coincidence?” he echoes Wei Ying’s earlier question. “Then it can happen again,” Wei Ying says, reaching up to brush his hand over Lan Zhan’s jaw. “As long as the sea is bound to wash up on the sand and stars are above you, we will meet again. Hm?”

[eternallyei]

a short one for sakusa kiyoomi ♡

fluff, sakusa kiyoomi x reader ~ 800 words

Usual dates be like, you’re going out with your boyfriend (or not yet one, you get me) and then everything’s romantic.

Holding hands, kissing, hugging, sharing things like snacks. I guess this is normal, right ?

But here’s the thing.. what if your boyfriend is slightly germophobic ?

Sakusa really tries though, but holding hands more than some seconds is hard. Kissing has never been one of his favorite thing either.

Dates ? Oof..

"no love, I prefer we go out on another day.. there seems to be.. a lot of people outside.."

Crowded places definitely aren’t his thing..

But you two do have dates though, that’s for sure. Not everyday of the week but you do, and they’re the best moments.

Sakusa tries to make things unforgettable for you from the beginning of you two. He really is adorable, also a little perfectionist, we must admit.

He gives you all his attention, looks at your gestures and listens to everything you’re saying. Even the 'one thought' things are heard, he never skips any of your words.

He loves it when you get shy from how fast his responding while you were just thinking out loud. He easily gets you flustered.

His eyes tell you everything about what he’s feeling, they’re just too expressive. Sakusa usually got his mask on or just tends to not smile that much, and expressing his feelings are hard for him.

But he loves you with all his being, you’re special to him, and you know it by the way his eyes always wander around your features.

He’s so down bad for you, but anyway-

That very special day was when you two went to this fancy place. You wanted to have a nice little cake for the afternoon walk, and Sakusa got your back again.

You two were walking, and looking around to find some place to pull Sakusa into and sit for a good little 'recovery'.

Suddenly, Sakusa takes out a hand from his pocket and tugs at your sleeve.

"this one, it looks clean and empty"

It doesn’t look only clean and empty actually.. but let’s say that’s what he saw first ?

It was actually pretty, the facade was black and the inside was classy and pretty much cozy.

Taking out a tissue, he opened the door and you were hit by a smell of coffee and.. and soap ? But it smelled good.

You two got to a table, things were done like they should and here you were waiting for your order while talking about the leaves decoration.

Sakusa preferred to look at you, knowing well he would feel things going up his spine if he began to think about whatever could hide between the leaves.

"can i take a picture of you?"

He asks, while you nod. He does as said and stares at the photo. 'you look pretty' that’s what it meant.

He cleans the little spoon you were about to eat with, with another tissue and then you two eat your cakes together.

He takes a bite, you too. Another one, and then you think.. why not?

"can i have a bite of yours, please?"

"mine?"

"yes, i want to taste how yours is"

"..okay"

Then he cuts a small part with his spoon and goes to put it on your plate. But nope, you gently grab his wrist and lead it to your mouth.

His eyes widen for a second, he slightly gasps as if he wanted to say something.. and then he tighten his lips and looks back at his cake.

The poker faced man has finally been defeated. It seems he stopped breathing for a split second, before his cheeks got pink.

He’s so stressed about whatever just happened. In a good way though, he’s just.. not used to this.

Your small giggle gets him out of his blank moment.

"how is it?"

"it tastes sweet"

And this was the beginning of a bunch of event that helped him out with his phobia, at least a little with you.

He isn’t confortable with everything yet, but kissing you more than before is something he feels more confortable doing.

He loves how your lips always taste sweet and soft, it never fails to make him blush. He sometimes smiles when the kiss gets a little longer than usual.

It just tickles. Tickles his sweet heart and brain.

And, every morning he stares at the post-its he leaves you on the fridge before he goes training.

The words that describe his feelings. Words that he never manages to tell you face-to-face.

His favorite ones has been..

"All I want is you with me, today, tomorrow, and every day until we both give our last breath away"

"Words can’t describe how I feel for you"

And.. "i love you"

hope you liked it.

anyway, bye bye (=

©eternallyei. please do not copy/translate/use as your own.