#do NOT look at their noses. i have no fucking clue how to draw noses <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[glitterrosesnzz]

I saw you might accept tiny drabble reqs for Wanderer?

What about Sethos, Traveler, or even Childe (if you wanna go Scaramouche) finding a "malfunction" in his body that when triggered immediately causes a sneeze/sneeze fit, no matter what. Could be tweaking a certain mechanism, could be a surge of elemental energy (specific element or not), could be dragging a touch in a specific line or rythym along his face/nose?

Might suck idk

this went through so many rewrites that i felt like i was bordering on losing it entirely. i cut off a huge chunk of words cause i just couldn't figure out how to conclude it through that route. maybe i'll reuse it for a different fic later....

anyways. i took creative liberties when it came to what the "malfunction" was hope u don't mind-

"Hh'InKkyYSHhii!"

A particularly strong breeze ruffled Sethos' hair as he startled, almost dropping the cat in his arms as he spun around to stare at the Wanderer, who had been standing behind him. Of all the responses Sethos' could've gotten to off-handedly comparing the other to the cute little kitten in his arms, he hadn't been expecting that.

It was obvious the Wanderer hadn't been expecting it either, if the startled and slightly hazy look on his face was any indication. Sethos opened his mouth to ask- and was interrupted before he could even begin as the Wanderer snapped forwards with two more drawn out sneezes, the resulting pulses of anemo making the loose edges of his clothes flutter.

"HihH'KksShHnii! Hh-heEH-hH'iikKSHyhn-tii!" The Wanderer pressed the back of his hand against his nose, rubbing it for a moment before stopping and just letting his hand rest there, pressed against his nose.

"Woah, are you okay? Those sound way worse than normal." Sethos finally managed to ask- and, as he sort of predicted, the Wanderer responded to that by glaring at him.

"Tch, I'm fine." The Wanderer's voice also sounded different than usual, though Sethos couldn't really place his finger on what, exactly, was different. "Just ihH- ...ignore it-hH'IinNkSHhiiu!!"

"Kinda hard to ignore it when you keep doing it." Sethos said, trying to fix the strands of his hair that'd been blown out of place- and oh, now he knows why the Wanderer's voice sounded off- "You sound a bit congested- are you sick?"

"Wh- no. I-I'm not."

"Then what's up with you?"

"It's just- hH-hiH-.... a-a cat allergy."

"...A cat allergy." Sethos deadpanned, glancing down at the cat in his arms to see if it was believing this complete bullshit before looking back up at the Wanderer, who avoided his eyes.

"What, do you need me to... to repeat it?" The Wanderer rubbed slightly more intensely at his nose, clearly trying to hold back another sneeze.

"No no no, it's just- well, I've seen you hanging out with cats before, and there's never been any-"

"HhiH'KkyYSHhii! Fuck!" The Wanderer swore, before rapidly turning and starting to hurriedly walk away from Sethos.

"Wait, hey! Where are you going?!"

"None of your business!"

~

Over the past three days, Sethos had come to collect a mental list of the Wanderer's supposed 'allergies'. Cats, dust, Sumeru roses, a passerby's perfume, and... sand.

Sethos took issue with that last one specifically, he was absolutely certain that one was not possible, and besides, they're in the city. Sethos has been staying in a rented room and hasn't been back to the desert in over a week- there's not even any sand here to be allergic to!

So, overall, Sethos is 99.8% sure the Wanderer is just outright lying, and should really really be resting in a bed, because he did not seem to be getting better- and the redness of his face, whenever Sethos managed to catch a good glimpse of it from under the Wanderer's hat, was just red enough to indicate a fever.

And, of course, this conclusion is what led Sethos to, at the first opportunity, grab hold of the Wanderer's arm and start practically dragging him back to the Sanctuary of Surasthana.

From the moment he grabbed hold of him, Sethos couldn't help but note that it felt like the Wanderer was shaking.

Shockingly enough, the Wanderer had stopped protesting after the first few minutes, obediently letting himself be pulled along in silence. Or, well, near silence- the Wanderer sneezing intermittently as they walked upward.

(There was also a faint sort of... whirring noise that Sethos couldn't place. He chose to ignore it for now, focusing on the Wanderer's obvious illness first).

Nahida standing at the entryway to the Sanctuary with her arms crossed wasn't much of a surprise.

Aether standing next to her in the exact same pose kinda-sorta was though.

"Hey," Aether said, sliding up between Sethos and the Wanderer, "Hand Mr. Hat Guy over to me while you explain... whatever is going on to Nahida."

After a moment, Sethos obediently handed the Wanderer over (the Wanderer himself too busy focusing on holding his breath in an attempt to keep himself from sneezing to protest), and then turned to begin to explain the situation to Nahida, not even noticing Aether leading the Wanderer off to the side.

"You have to tell him." Aether whispered, "You can't keep this up forever."

The Wanderer, still holding his breath, shook his head no.

"No as in you don't wanna tell him, or no as in you agree that you can't keep this up?"

Aether smirked as the Wanderer glared at him, before turning to pay more attention to Sethos' explanation.

"-and he keeps insisting that he's just allergic-"

"Ha, allergic to blushing maybe." Aether mumbled. The Wanderer harshly elbowed him in the chest, before snapping to the side with a sneeze.

"Hh-hIH'KksSHhyii!! HehH-" The Wanderer's wavering breath was quick to hitch again, and he hurriedly pinched his nose shut, attempting to hold his breath again. Aether noticed with some amusement that the whirring noise that had arrived with the Wanderer had just gotten considerably louder.

"Y'see!" Sethos said loudly, snapping both Aether and the Wanderer's attention back to him. "He clearly needs to be in bed!"

"I-I'm finehH-hH'iikKSHyhn-tii!! Hh'InKkyYSHhii!!"

"His room is on the right, five doors down the left hallway." Nahida said, ignoring the Wanderer's sputtered attempts at protest through hitching breaths. Sethos promptly thanked her, and wasted no time in snatching the Wanderer's wrist and dragging him into the Sanctuary. Aether walked back up to stand beside Nahida as they both watched the Wanderer willingly get led to the left and then vanish down the hallway.

"Y'know." Aether started, "I don't think he hates this treatment, as much as he's trying to make it seem otherwise. ...How long do you think until he tells him-"

"-that his systems are overreacting to being flustered, and the whirring vibration is affecting him in very unsubtle ways?" Nahida finished for him, "Hm... I'd say about a week."

"You wanna bet on it?"

"Sure!"

[purpurussy]

please imagine it colored in so they're wearing their pyjamas from the sleepover vid :) i am not going to attempt to color it because i would probably die lol i couldn't even draw a straight line on my drawing tablet when i first started this 😭

from @ingydar-g-phan's challenge

clean version:

on a real note: this is my first time posting art (it's the first time i've actually really drawn anything in absolutely ages!) and it's so scary. there are So many extremely talented artists here and it's hard not to compare myself. I finished this ages ago but was too scared to post it lol. however it's also really hard to not feel inspired by you guys so :) it's very far from perfect but it's progress! maybe if i keep at it in like 5 years i will be able to actually visualize the many Situations I wanna put these dudes in

[buckyalpine]

In some universe I like to think Bucky likes to fuck. Hard. He holds back when he has his hands all over your body and he's trying desperately to shut out the monster in his brain screaming to ravage you because he. Wants. To. Fuck.

There are days where he wants that tender loving and he wants to be soft and sweet but on others?

The release feels to good and in that moment he's in full control, chasing that pleasure, hyper focused on the way his cockhead is dripping and swollen, more sensitive than ever. Its throbbing and his veins are pumping all the blood to his rock hard cock.

At first he does a good job of hiding it.

But then the mask begins to fall.

Primal urges want to take over but how can he ruin his sweet little bunny whose laying under him, moaning and looking at him with doe eyes.

How can he-

"Buck?"

Bucky's hips stutter at the sound of your soft voice laced with concern, your hand coming to cup his cheek.

"You okay?" You can tell he's not all there, his movements hesitant, body too stiff. You're plaint under him but his muscles are tight, jaw clenched. "What's wrong Jamie"

Jamie. The name you had for him alone made him want to fuck you till all you could do was scream his-

"We can stop if-

"No-" Bucky cuts you off before you could continue, petting your head reassuringly, "Everything's fine doll, promise" He pecks a kiss to your nose making you blink and it some how makes him harder. You're so trusting, spreading out naked on his bed, completely unsuspecting of all the dirty things he really wanted to do to you. You were checking in on him to see if he's okay, not having a clue he wanted to rail you so hard, you'd forget how to speak. Pound you till you were begging for him to stop because there was too much cum for your tiny cunt to handle and his heavy balls would still be aching for release.

"You can tell me" You whisper, wiggling from under him to wrap your soft thighs around his waist, stroking his scruffy cheek. "Please?"

Bucky doesn't think he can hide his needs for much longer. Not when your scent is all over him now; on his pillow, the sheets, its soaked onto his skin with how closely your naked bodies are pressing against each other. How can he be expected to have any self-control when you're looking up at him like that like a sweet little bunny caught in the wolfs den, cuddling into her predators chest.

"You really want to know?" His voice was husky, letting his nose trail along the column of your neck, breathing in your sweet smell, letting his tongue dart out to taste your sweat slicked skin. The action makes you gasp, clenching around him with a whimper, your eyes growing wide when a growl emits from deep in his chest, "Are you sur you really want to know?"

"Y-yes" You nod, your breath hitching in your throat at the dark smirk that appears on his face as his hand snakes up to softly clasp around your throat.

"I want to ruin you bunny" Bucky's nose nudges against your affectionately before leaning down to nip your pouty bottom lip.

"R-ruin?" You whisper, a wave of slick soaking his cock further which doesn't go unnoticed by him. He experimentally draws his hips back and snaps them forward, hitting your cervix, the salacious moan you let out driving him feral.

"I want to fuck. Promise I'll make love to you after but I want to fuck you pretty girl" He squeezes your throat a little tighter, moving to graze his teeth along your jaw. "Will you let me? Fuck this pretty little pussy?"

The breathy yes you let out is all he needs.

And fuck you he does.

-

"J-JAMIEE"

"That's it-scream-scream for me!" He roars, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips and he pulls you back to meet his thrusts, his balls slapping your clit each time. He has you on your hands and knees though your arms gave way, your face pressed against the mattress. He brings his leg up to get a deeper angle and the feeling causes white spots to blur you vision.

"M-more-Wan' more" You weakly beg, tears streaming down your face in pleasure, your entire body being held up by his grip as he takes you from behind.

"Greedy slut, begging for more as if she isn't already full of cock and cum" Bucky gritted out, having already emptied himself in your once, your combined slick making it easier for him to pound you. "Just a hole for me to fuck, you're just here to get me off aren't you baby, just a tight little pussy for me to stuff my dick into"

"Ye-ah" You hiccup, overstimulated from the orgasms he's pulled from your body left, right and center. "So-so-good"

"S'good huh, gotta keep you well fucked for my fat cock bunny" You have no idea where he got such a filthy mouth from, another orgasm building in your belly from his words alone, "Can feel you getting tight again, lookit you cumming all over me baby, messy girl, soaking me"

You can't respond aside from wailing with pleasure, trickles of squirt wetting his thighs, the sight making his balls pull towards his body.

"That's it, good girl, fuck gonna cum bunny, gonna give you my cum and keep fucking it back into you, keep you nice and full of me" He rails you faster, the serum in his veins pumping, sweat dripping down his body. He feels impossibly hot, head thrown back as immense pleasure shoots down his spine, his pace growing sloppy. There's not a single thought in his brain other than busting load after load in your sopping cunt till his cock his soft. He doesn't care that it almost hurts, overstimulated himself, panting and rutting into you, he's so far gone, his deep moans slipping into a whimper as his cock starks to leak, he's so close-

"OH-FUCKK" Hot ropes of his spend shoot from his tip as he lets his body fall on top of you, humping and rutting himself till he's all empty, "y'feel to good, can't even stop, holy shit" He moans into your neck, suckling at your pulse point while you writhe under him feeling his cum seep out of you. His movements slow till there's nothing left, his sensitive length still tucked between your folds, pink and soft and wet with your cream. He carefully moves you so you're resting on the pillows, his cool metal hand brushing your forehead.

"Come back to me bunny" Bucky coos, chuckling at your dazed state, your eyes still unfocused, panting and blindly reaching for him, "M'right here babygirl, c'mhere, I got you" He cradles your soft body close to his, kissing your hairline. "Did so good for me princess, so so proud of you"

You let out a sleepy yawn, curling up on his chest like a content kitten, closing your eyes while nuzzling into him. You've never looked so peaceful and happy and Bucky can tell just by your happy little sigh you want more of what he gave you.

[boofeine]

complicated freak – lsk

pairing: dk x fem reader

genre: smut one shot

synopsis: you feel horrible for pretending to pay attention at anything he might be rambling in front of you right now; your thoughts wherelse, at the image of his thick cock.

warnings: mdni, fingering, dirty talk, roleplay (kinda), one single spank, cum, riding, mention of face riding, fighting dominance, descriptive, protected penetrative sex

song: baby said by maneskin / complicated freak by harry styles / ironically shhh! by viviz also came out :)

tags: @huen1ngk4i @aaniag @svteensworld @unlikelysublimekryptonite

Seokmin is a lot of things, but what he's most known for is his sweetness and kindness. That's what draws you in on first place. He's so welcoming, makes your heart flutter just from receiving his attention. You were done for, when you got yourself just a little bit way too into it, into him, the way butterflies come to your stomach when he gets shy on your presence.

It came as a surprise for you too, when he turned a completely different person between sheets. You have no idea in which point you got yourself in here, but it's definitely not your last. You got your body against his more times than you could admit, and crave it more than you think you should. The problem is that he's so soft, it makes you feel dirty for having this thoughts when he's not burried on your pussy.

You feel horrible for pretending to pay attention at anything he might be rambling in front of you right now. Your thoughts wherelse, at the image of his thick dick. He rests his back on the sofa, his spread legs on the floor not doing any good either as you stare at his side profile while he talks.

The outline of his nose making you remember how deliciously it pokes at your clit while he tongue fucks you, a rush of heat spreading on your body up to your cheeks as your core suddenly feel needy for his attention. Every time he looks up to the ceiling like he's thinking what he will say next, gathering his thoughts, your mind is wilding in how you want to climb up that couch and sit on his pretty face.

"What do you think?" Seokmin's voices echoes, making you blink at him, having not a clue what he's talking about as he stares back at you, waiting for some type of response.

"Hm? Sorry?" You tilt your head, not going unnoticed that you weren't paying attention, your heart dropping to a whole, feeling guilty.

"The movies on saturday? That is this one new movie I was talking about..." He starts again but the ache on your pussy is getting unbearable.

"Hum... Hum... Sounds good" You let out. Your hand shamelessly caressing his biceps, going down his arms as you slightly pull it to you. It's not innocently that the motion makes his soft fingers grease against your exposed thighs. You suppress a gasp, your mouth agape, his hands close enough to where you need him the most.

"Oh, sorry" He says, resting his hand on the side of your body instead, as you tug to his arm. Fuck! Why is he so sweet?

He starts talking about something else again. The same guilty creeping through you as you don't pay a single attention, your body going further as if he will be able to read the signs.

"Seokmin, baby..." You interrupt him mid word, his face moving to look at you, the pet name coming out as a surprise to him "I know you want to talk but my pussy is so fucking wet right now" You shamelessly confess as his eyes bulge.

"Oh-" It's all he's able to reply. Your hands that haven't left his arms, pulling it to your legs. His eyes following your motions and back to your face "You know I'm a little sad you weren't listening to me" He says, not true to his words.

"Seokmin... I-" You try.

"No, No" He cuts off immediately "I was saying something that I really wanted you to know but all you can think of it's my cock on your pussy" He mocks, his big hands gripping a hand full of your thighs this time.

"I'm sorry" You pouts and he giggles a little.

"You should be" He says, restraining his hands from your skin as he takes this to where you left it "So, as I was saying, there's this restaurant..."

You groan, your head going back as you get tired of waiting and being nice "Fuck, Seokmin! Shut up" You let out, your hands grabbing and guiding his hand to your pussy. He laughs, he fucking laughs at how desesparate you are. Pushing the skirt of your dress up to expose your clothed core, his fingers greasing over the material as you relax at his touch, your head going back, eyes shut at finally feeling something.

"They do have really good food" He says back about the damn restaurant to provoke you as you grunt, frustrated. He leans a little closer to your face, cupping your cunt through the thong "But don't worry, the only thing I can think of eating is you right now" He lowers his tone to whisper it to you.

"Good" You answer "Thought you'd never shut up" Your smart mouth takes over as he smirks.

His hand pulls your thong to the side, taking a long stroke at your folds as you mewl, a heavy breath getting out like it needed to. Your hips bulking to his hand and legs spreading almost instinctively.

"Shit, you really are wet" he responds. Seokmin gathers the slick up to your clit, massaging the muscle in small circles. the grip you have on his arm getting stronger each motion of his fingers. You're wet enough to hear the sounds of it as he goes down to enter you with his digits. Your nails dig to his skin, your head lowering as your forehead rests where his shoulders and arms meet. The gasps turning into moans as he fucks you. He moves slowly, watching you break.

"Seokmin, baby..." You say gripping his wrist this time. That fucking pet name again, he wont ever get used to it, his cock tightening on his pants. "Wait" you push him out, your cunt pulsating with the loss but just enough to get up and take your thong out and sit on his lap. He welcomes you like he always does, watching you undo his jeans to be met at the sight of his hardening length pressing on his boxers. But before you can even drink in the sight, he's back at pushing two fingers inside you. Your back arch when he curls them inside, getting on your sweet spot.

You moan out his name as he presses the spot continuously with the tip of his fingers. You can't help but roll your eyes, the knot forming on your stomach as an unimaginable amount of arousal slip out of your entrance. "Fuu- ah! Minnie... Not yet, please!" You beg as you feel your legs shake.

Like he's so obedient to you, he stops, restraining his hands as you squirm over him. "You made a show to have it, and now you're going back?" he spits out as you still try to calm down your breathing, eyes slowly opening.

"I want..." You try.

"What? Say it" he demands as his wet hands from your slick goes under his boxers, taking his cock out with a gasp of relieve. You stare at it, the way he spreads the wetness on his cockhead making you whine at the view.

"I want your cock... inside me" You plea as he starts to bump himself, letting out a groan.

"Of course you do" He says smartly with a smirk "Go get a condom on my wallet" He says. You reach for his pocket, knowing he came with anything else, his wallet soon found as you open it, the package on one of his spaces as you take it from it. You throw it somewhere beside you as you immediately start to open the condom. He hands his base, aligning it for you as his other hand digs to your hips, pulling you to him, watching you take over, pressing up on the plastic before sliding it down his length.

He holds you firmly as you take his base instead, guiding his head to your entrance when you get your body up to receive him. You press him inside, feeling the delicious stretch, your body threatening to give up while you slowly sit down on him. You can see his breathing pace fastening, his chest rising and falling, but you're no different, your head going down, your foreheads getting together as you can feel each others breath. You finally bottoms out, your body relaxing while he takes your mouth on his for the first time today. It's all too much, a whine coming out on his lips when his tongue asks for space. The kiss airy and needy as you make out.

When you feel the neediness again, already adjusted to his size, you start rolling your hips, low moans coming from him as he guides you with his hands on your waist. "Fuck!" he swears under his breath, feeling your walls pulsating around his cock. "Was this what you needed, hm? Was that all running on that head while I was talking?" He says, and you just moan, picking up your pace as if it was going to answer him. "The pretty heads, always the nastiest thoughts, isn't it?" But he isn't any different, he thinks. Those thoughts run just the same for him, too.

You are not answering in words but going faster on him. Until even this, It's not enough. Your hips going up just to sit back in. His head going back with a roll of his eyes as you start to bounce on his cock. His hands going back to your ass cheeks, spreading them apart. "Stopped me just to use my cock as your little fuck toy... so unpolite" He speaks again and you groans.

Your palms fastening to press against his lips as he yelps, but you can see the smirk from his eyes. "You don't ever shut up, do you?" You spit out, your thrusts going faster, the skin slapping sounds starting to fill the room "I guess next time I should take my first plan of sitting on your face. At least then you can talk between my legs if that's something you want so much. How does that sound?" You get closer to say those words, your hand prettily silencing him as you stare at his watery glistening eyes. You can feel the way he twitches inside you and the muffled moans coming out. You know he loves it.

You suddenly calm down your pace, turning it into firm deep, slow thrusts. The heat and pleasure building up as you push yourself to the edge. Your walls hugging him tightly as he starts to feel his balls tightening too. "Cum for me, baby. Come on... make it worth it" You talk him through it, his knuckles white from gripping your ass so hard, leaving red marks of his big hands on it.

It comes at a surprise when he bites the skin of your palm, your hands jumping out of him as you yelp "Fuck, Seokmin! Are you crazy!?" You scream, your cheeks turning red. He hands you in place, starting to fuck you instead, thrusts meeting up your hips. You moan, your hands driving its way to his hair so you can tug on something.

"You should learn to behave and talk nicely" He grunts out, the throaty voice and drool over his lips doesn't go unnoticed. Heat collecting around your bodies, both of you getting close to cumming. "Someone has to teach you a really good lesson" He says lastly, his palm arriving to your skin with one loud hard slap on your ass cheek. The skin tingles, your body going stiff and mouth agape, like you stopped breathing for a second, before you finally let it go. Your body shaking as you cum with a breathy moan. Your pussy clenching nonstop as he cums with a loud gasp right after you. His load emptying on the condom.

Both of you rolling your hips messily trying to ride off your highs, until you're tired and giving up. The wetness is thick enough to make him slide out unintentionally as you both whine from the loss.

You sit back on his thighs, staring while he takes off the condom from his flacid length, tying it up with a knot. His balls and inner thighs glistening with your own juices as you hince at the sight, "I'm sorry..." You say it smally, but he smiles.

"It's ok... I love it" He replies, pulling you to him. And for a moment, you two just stay there, tangled up on each other before gathering corage to get up and clean up the mess.

[moonstruckme]

hi angel!! i was wondering if i may please request something with protective!sirius? (maybe rockstar!au but obviously doesnt have to be) and they’re at a party or something idk!! i just think he’s hot LOL

you’re such a good writer! also this is my first time sending in a request- so sorry if i did it wrong🩷🩷🩷

You didn't do anything wrong, thank you for requesting lovely!

cw: spiked drink, anxiety about bad trip

rockstar!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 655 words

You’ve got Sirius’ jacket and Remus’ arm heavy around your shoulders, and your sinuses are starting to hurt as the shouting coming from the kitchen intensifies. Sirius’ voice is the loudest, with James’ interjections only slightly less sharp but certainly no less upset. No one seems to be arguing back at them. 

“Are you okay?” Remus asks quietly. 

You hum. “I think I want to go back to the hotel.” 

“That’s probably a good idea. Want me to take you?”

“I was hoping Sirius might…” You chew your lip, eyes stuck on the closed kitchen door. 

You don’t want Remus to think you don’t want him to take you, but he seems to take it as you mean it, his expression characteristically kind as he follows your gaze. 

“I’m sure he will.” He stands, his arm slipping from around you as he starts towards the kitchen. “Someone’s got to tell this tosser off, but it doesn’t have to be him.” 

You follow after him more tentatively, staying behind Remus’ arm as he pushes the door open to stand in the threshold. 

James turns towards the both of you immediately, but Sirius is too caught up in his diatribe to notice. There’s an empty bowl of punch tipped over in the sink, rivulets of pinkish red running into the drain. A boy stands beside it looking positively terrified. You’re not sure exactly how James had found him, the groupie’s friend’s boyfriend who had thought it would be a fun idea to spike the punch with acid and not tell anyone about it, but clearly they’re not letting him off without forcing a thorough understanding of the consequences of his actions.

“Sirius,” you say softly. 

You’re not sure how he hears you over the sound of his own voice, but your boyfriend’s demeanor changes completely as he turns to you. His next insults fade from his lips, his posture shifting, the crackling fury about him melding into something softer and more pliable.

“Hey,” he says in a wholly different voice, “you okay?” 

You think the next time someone asks you that you might burst into tears. “Can we go?” you ask instead of answering. 

Sirius nods, brushing his hair behind his ear. With the many strands falling out of his loose bun and the messiness of his eye makeup, he looks about as frazzled as you feel. “Yeah, sweetness.” He starts towards you. “Let’s go. James—”

“I’ve got it, mate.” James gives him a weighted look. Though you’ll probably never be able to entirely decipher the language the boys share, you can read his meaning clearly enough: I’ll make sure he’s properly torn into whether you’re here or not. 

You ignore the boy by the sink and murmur a thanks to Remus. He lets the door shut after you and Sirius on your way out. 

Sirius guides you through the party with a hand on your back, the feel of his handprint distinct even through layers of fabric. People try to stop him, to ply the both of you with drinks and conversation and promises of after-after-parties, but he ignores most of them and keeps his responses short with the rest. It’s not long before you’re spilling out into cool night air. 

“I didn’t realize how smoky it was in there,” you admit. 

Sirius pushes out a breath and draws you tighter against him in a sort of walking half-hug. “I’m so sorry about all of this. Do you really feel okay?” 

“Yeah,” you say honestly. “I don’t think it’s kicked in yet.” 

“You’ve probably got a little while, but we’ll get you to the hotel and make sure it’s not bad for you.” He kisses the top of your head firmly, nose pressing into your hair. “I have no fucking clue what would lead someone to think that was okay. That prick thought it would be funny, as if you can just drug people without telling them and everyone will—” 

“Sirius.” You can hear him getting riled up again, and you really can’t deal. It’s not that you don’t love how much he cares, that protective ire that swells up in him on your behalf. But you’re scared right now. You feel tired and unsteady, and having someone to blame doesn’t help you the way it does him. “Can we not talk about it right now, please?” 

Sirius shuts his eyes, and you can see the stiff, quiet breath he takes to settle himself. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, baby, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” you reply softly. 

When he looks at you, all the anger in his gaze has fizzled out, leaving only raw tenderness in its wake. “Are you nervous?” 

“A little,” you say. It’s a half-truth. “I don’t know what to expect.” 

“You’ll be okay,” he promises. “I’ve done it before. We’ll just get you comfy in the room, and I’ll be there to look after you. Does that sound okay?” 

You lean into his side. Sirius takes your weight happily, moving his hand so his arm goes around you. His thumb sweeps over your ribs. 

“Yeah,” you answer honestly. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

[whosjunglejim4322]

Saccharine - E.M

Warnings ® smut! Fluff, soft bf Eddie<3, first time sex as a couple! Nasty IN LOVE smut bc this bitch is a hopeless romantic! Eddie is super sensitive, Established relationship, you stroke his dick, Eddie almost cums in his pants, lil bit of dry humping, this is incredibly self indulgent but u didn't hear that from me, overly descriptive bc why not

You shouldn't be nervous, really. It's just Eddie, who is your boyfriend of three months and twenty-six days. Who is sitting across from you on his creaky mattress criss-cross style, your knees touching. Your Eddie, who has two big hands flailing in the air as he goes on about the recent campaign, broad mouth etched into a whimsical smile, big eyes wondrous and full of excitement for the tale.

The bed bounces with his enthusiasm, and you draw closer to him with each syllable.

Your Eddie, who is doing nothing out of the ordinary, and who is as beautiful as ever in loose fitting plaid pyjama bottoms and a tattered black tee that exposes half of his collarbone and smudges of black ink - he doesn't even have to try, and perhaps these simple mundane realizations are what cause the flutter of wings in the pit of your stomach.

"And then Mike - hey, you okay?"

If it weren't for his vast change in expression, you truly wouldn't have realized what a trance you're in. Between the furrow of his unkempt brows and the amused but curious tilt at the corner of his mouth, you come back to earth. The weight of gravity settles in your bone marrow, as his calloused thumb quickly strokes your chin as if to remind you he is still here.

"I - yeah yeah, sorry I just," you grab his hand by the heaviness of his wrist, dragging it into your lap so you can stroke the back of his rough knuckles. "got distracted s'all."

Your eyes divert to where your fingers are joined and the sound of his airy, through-the-nose chuckle has more heat blossoming behind your ribcage, nudging at your organs.

"I'll stop with the D&D talk, know you hear enough about it from the kids. There's only so much dorkiness you should be subjected to, y'know?"

It's lighthearted, he's smirking and looking down at you with enough palpable fondness the apples of your cheeks feel like they're being stroked by a flame. Still, the implication that he may be bothering you in any way has an urgency filling your eyes. You shake your head.

"No, no that never bothers me Eds, don't be silly." The nickname makes his mouth dry, still, after three months and twenty-six days. You finally meet his glance. "You're just handsome, really handsome especially when you're talking about something you're passionate about and I just...yeah."

It's word vomit, messy and you feel like it makes no sense but then he squeezes your hand and you know that he reads between the nervous mumbo jumbo - you have no clue how you make him feel, do you?

"You're fucking cute." He breathes out earnestly, smoothing his grip upwards to your forearms and pulling you forward with minimal effort - right onto the stirdiness of his lap.

Your giddiness is the perfect portrait, your arms finding a resting place atop his broad shoulders. Curls tickle the tops of your arms and your wrists, and your thighs brace your frame by the slim of his taut waist. He can't help it, the giggles escaping his throat. The proximity is intoxicating for no reason at all.

"Can't believe this is our first time spending the night together, I'm so used to falling asleep on the phone with you that it really doesn't feel all that different." He smooths your hair out of your eyes, tucks it behind your left ear.

I get to touch her like this, he thinks to himself. His chest jostles underneath the muscle and bone.

"Yeah, except I get to fall asleep with you'n my arms, wake up with you in em' too. I'm one lucky son of a bitch, hmm?"

He's practically thinking out loud, but he's too far gone to feel shame. When you nuzzle your face against the warm nook of his neck, wet lips smiling against the flesh, his encapsulating arms squeeze you impossibly tighter. He buries his nose against the top of your head, inhaling the fresh scent of your shampoo. Your cheek grazes the side of his jaw as you meet him face to face, nose to nose.

He sees you trying to formulate words, a sentence, even a sound but none of it seems like a totally accurate way to express the adoration threatening to consume you from the inside out. You graze his cheek with your mouth, slowly, tentatively, and he hangs on with half an air full of lungs.

You suckle his bottom lip and he sighs into your mouth, the relief making him lightheaded. He kicks into gear and pushes back with an overlap of his mouth - hands wandering over the small of your back, to your soft lovehandles and upwards until his fingrtips have passed your jugular and he's holding your face as tenderly as you're holding his.

It's now, when you feel it - the growing firmness beneath he thin material of his bottoms. He tries to keep it at bay but it's damn near impossible, and the whimper, the fucking whimper you let out when his soft tongue touches yours from the warm cavern of your mouth - he couldn't stop it from twitching even if he wanted to. He's only a man.

And you're a menace. As new as this is, your body reacts to the prod in between your legs, underneath your crotch. You press yourself tighter to his frame, hips scooching against his hard-on in the process and he stiffens.

"Mmm, baby baby..." your pout is immediate when he breaks from your mouth, brows furrowed and lips a kiss bitten fuschia. For a moment, you think you've taken it too far too fast - he's stopped you from moving completely. Your whole body burns with a tingly sensation somewhere between shame and the aftershocks of arousal.

"Are you...are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"

You sound so sweet, it makes his lower belly ache among other things. He stifles a laugh brcause he knows it will only make you feel worse. Something wrong. Something wrong.

"Fuck no, I-sorry I just uh...almost..." He can't bring himself to say it, you guys haven't even been kissing for five whole minutes and here he is about to blow his load. When you realize how close his dark lashes are from kissing his cheeks, how his pupils have almost turned the whole of his irises onyx, you connect the dots.

Woah, you did that to him? That moth in your belly threatens to take flight, and without much thought, your mouth is moving before you can stop it.

"I wanna see."

Those are the only words your brain allows you to spit out. His chest has gone still, and you feel that twitch against your center again. Your thighs have begun to tremble.

"You wanna see...? My cock?" He shouldn't sound so incredulous. You're his girlfriend for christ's sake, but you are important to him. More important than he ever thought anyone could be, and so he has kept his lust at a minimum of 48% when he's around you for the most part. Save for intense makeout sessions.

"Yeah, I wanna...well I wanna know how to make you feel good."

He's worried for a moment that he's having another wet dream, but he's sure this is real life because he feels how warm you are against him and you are so close he can see his own reflection in your eyes. You toy with the shell of his ear and a chill ascends his spine.

"Sweetheart if you touch me m'not gonna last long." His skin is pink and scarlet, and he's gotten at least ten degrees hotter judging by the heat billowing off of the back of his neck. His adams apple bobs when he swallows.

"That's okay, really it is. You have nothing to be embarrassed about....I like it. Like that I make you feel that way. " You rake your fingers through the front of his hair, pushing it away from his pretty face. He checks your eyes again, needing confirmation.

"Are you sure? You don't have to do anything you don't want to." He gnaws on the inside of his plush mouth, tries to calm the animal inside of him that wants to fuck your brains out right now. He almost feels guilty just thinking about it, until you lean over to peck the side of his stubbly chin, fingertips grazing his taut belly.

"Yes, really wanna."

There is a curious, nervous anticipation in the crinkle underneath your eyes.

"Kay' baby, explore all you want." The boyish smirk he gives is enough to have that knee buckling tingling sensation coming back full force as he presents himself to you like this. Does he seem as pulled together and totally not overly nervous as he thinks he does? Probably not.

His arms depart from your body, ribs expanding as he reclines on his palms. Tendons flex and stretch underneath the black bats and fuzzy layer of hair atop his forearm. You swallow, intimidated by the beauty of the boy.

You find the courage to finally move off of his lap so that you can take him all in, and the bulge of his cock swipes the underside of your thigh as you slide off.

You don't know where to touch first. That's a lie, your hands almost instinctively slip underneath the hem of his old shirt, where that dark thatch of hair trails under his belly button. He's soft, so soft it's unreal, he is velvet and delicious scarring and beauty marks. His tummy convulses underneath your hand.

He watches you with complete fixation. You have your bottom lip tucked between your teeth and you don't even realize it, all perched and pretty in front of him. He closes his eyes when you explore his sides, over the planes and arches and past the small stretch marks by his chest.

You can't ignore it anymore, the tent that has formed at his crotch and continues to throb with each passing touch.

The blunt of your nails rake down the soft plaid covering thick thighs, and he takes this sharp breath that has you glancing up at him with heavy eyes.

"So pretty...Eds you're so pretty." You say it ardently, your voice small and weak. An arm reaches down, strong but gentle as he strokes the back of your plush cheek with his ring covered knuckles.

"Can't fucking believe...can't believe you're mine, finally. Shit." He's almost murmuring to himself again, on the verge of cardiac arrest. Maybe he's losing his mind, maybe this is heaven.

Then your palm presses against the thick of his cock where it's bulging out, and his thighs spasm.

"Oh, oh." He's all curses and praises, giving you encouraging glances each time you look up at him to silently ask for guidance. You move your hand up and down what you assume is his shaft, and he keeps his hips from bucking into your touch. He feels thick, and the back of your mouth starts to water.

Without warning you're hooking your fingers into his waistband, and he lifts his hips in compliance so that you can pull them down to his mid thigh. He has no time for nerves anymore. Any fear he previously had about what his dick looks like, or what you'll think of it, is stripped along with his clothing. You're looking at him with too much love for him to be insecure - and that takes him by surprise the most.

At this point his checkered boxers are just in the way, and you take it upon yourself to pull those down too. A thud hits his belly.

And really, you should've known. He's big. Not because he's impossibly long, his size is above average but he's thick - the tip iridescent with precum, the same shade of plum as his lips underneath the slick sheen. He is slightly curved upwards, a prominent vein decorating the underside parallel to his frenulum. It's pretty, just like the rest of him. He's neatly trimmed, which is the most surprising part if you're honest - but nothing about Eddie could ever be displeasing to look at.

Your mouth is parted with this expression of surprise, and Eddie almost can't believe what this is doing for his ego.

"Woah." Is all you say, transfixed when you reach out to grasp the appendage. He hisses through his teeth when your small hand finally grasps it, so fucking warm and so gentle it's almost maddening. You both feel it, the invisible weight that has settled in his small, messy room.

The weight of being alone, together, all night and all of tomorrow afternoon while his uncle Wayne is away on a business trip that is probably more lucrative than what he leads on - but Wayne has never been one to boast or speak about things like that out loud. Says it'll jinx the whole thing.

The feeling hits you first, as you find this foreign courage to lean over and dribble spit over the slit of his cock. He gasps, watching the glob of saliva drip down the front of his dick till it's soaking into the curls at his pubic mound.

"Is this okay?" You already know the answer but you ask anyways, taking more pride than you should at the expression on the pretty metalheads face. He nods his head fervently, unable to respond right away.

You twist your palm, spreading your spit further until his whole head is covered and you're able to stroke him with no resistance.

"Fuuuck, yes. Yeah, that's so good baby." He's panting as you begin to properly jerk the tip of him off, the sounds in the room too lewd for you to handle. A squelchy feeling has developed between your thighs, led by each filthy groan that leaves your boyfriend's throat.

Then you're looking at him through fluttery lashes and a gone expression, with your chest rising and falling almost as rapidly as his and thick fingers grasp your wrist quickly, rougher than anticipated.

"Sorry, just - close."

Seeing his hand blanket yours over his cock is doing something to you. You know his palms like your own, hold them more than you look at your own, and yet right now such a sweet thing has never been more provocative.

"Shh, no more apologizing," you lean over and he meets you in the middle. The kiss is sloppy this time, evidence of the maddening desire taking him over from the inside out.

"Not fair," his voice is strained through your mouths ministrations. "Got me all worked up and you're sitting there neglected." He smiles and his tongue strokes your bottom lip. You shudder as that heat comes in an overwhelming wave.

He's gripping the back of your neck now, properly hungry and your hand continues its ministrations between your bodies, that wet sound prompting a shared groan from the both of you - intensifying the feeling. His nose is scrunched against your cheek from the vigour of his kisses.

"You can undress me."

He doesn't waste time once you've granted him verbal permission, and with an exhale you're being tipped over onto your back, breathing in the weight of him as nimble and eager fingers pull his tee shirt over and off your body.

"Jesus," He whines, and you're captivated by the look on his face. It's impossible not to feel flustered.

"Can I-" you don't let him finish.

"Yes, please touch me." You're just as fucked as he is, arching your chest upwards and into the warm, all encompassing mass of his palm. He stifles a groan, cock bobbing up and down in the space between you two, dribbling with a bead of pre arousal. You feel like you're losing your mind.

Eddie short circuits for about five whole seconds flat, and he can't concentrate. He makes a bee - line to your chest, plush lips sucking your swollen nipples into his mouth. A gasp and a pulse of your poor clit later, and your fingers delve into his curls like they'll keep you here in this moment forever.

He's sloppy, moving between the valley of your breasts to the other one, leaving trails of spit across your flesh.

"Eddie, that - that feels so good, can't - mmph." You're a mess. How are you such a mess? He's a phantom, a head of hair across your sternum until he glances up at you with saliva soaked lips and red cheeks and a sweaty forehead.

"Sweet girl, oh god I can't believe..." All you taste is him, the words being uttered between the space when he forces himself to breathe. "can't believe you're all mine, wanna make you feel so fucking good. Give you anythin' you want."

He lies his full weight on you, and through the thin sleeping shorts you've got on, his cock beckons you with throbs and weeps. You feel drunk off of him, every sense surrounded by Eddie. Eddie. Eddie.

His shampoo from two days ago, the old spice lingering under his arms, the natural scent of his skin, the sweetness of his breath and the perspiration that's formed in little beads on his upper lip. He's all but devouring you, lust and admiration for the angel beneath him taking over any sense of importance regarding anything else.

Your heels dig into the back of his bum, knees pulling inward so that his hips come clashing into yours. Your fingernails claw on the material covering his back, taking it upon themselves to pull it over his head. He's beaming like a kid in a candy store at your eagerness, eyes all crinkly underneath.

"Want me to grab a rubber now?" He mumbles between the sloppy kisses, hoping you can't hear the hitch in his throat at the prospect of this finally happening.

"Mhmm, yes." It feels just as surreal for you.

He whines as he departs, reaching over across your head to pull open his bedside drawer and ungracefully tear open the new box of condoms. His eyebrows are furrowed, arms flexing with intensity from his excitement. He groans out of frustration, and you giggle, grasping his thick forearm.

"Let me help baby." You reach in the drawer for him and pull the box out, finishing the rip he'd made and pulling out a metallic row of squares. You tear one at the perforation and hand it to him, grinning at the entire situation. He huffs and rests his forehead between the valley of your breasts.

"What would I do without you?" He mutters, matching your expression when he lifts his head back up and pushes forward to kiss you on the tip of your nose.

"Not have sex, I suppose." You bite back with no hint of malice, only an insurmountable level of love and he sees it shimmering everywhere around you. His girl. His.

"You're somethin' else, sweetheart." He mouths the side of your face, across your jaw and underneath your ear.

You feel like you're in a psychological limbo, in a world between consciousness as he sits back on his haunches and lifts his shirt off of his body from the back of his collar. That may be a dramatic sentiment to many, but it's fitting.

He does it so casually, throws his shirt to the side with the rest of discarded clothing and stray items that live on his bedroom floor. You feel weak in the knees when he tears the condom package and pulls out the slippery rubber, unraveling it before bringing it down to his cock.

You watch his face the way his pink tongue darts out and nips the tip of his tongue, brows furrowed in concentration and arousal as he fits the condom down his thick shaft. You watch his biceps twist, his taut abdomen clench, the black ink coming alive with the ministrations of his muscles underneath.

When he meets your eyes again, you look completely overtaken with desire, eyelids heavy and breath bated. Your pebbled nipples stand at full attention, mimicking his dick and Eddie hooks his fingers underneath those infuriatingly sexy shorts of yours so that he can get rid of them.

You're not wearing underwear. Of course you aren't. Your entire existence is specifically designed to test the bounds of his composure, of his strength. The gold room lighting from his lamp illuminates your body and your shy thighs only part when he's placing his palms between them, slowly encouraging them to allow him a peek or two.

You reach out to stroke his arms as he separates your legs, his jaw hanging ever so slack, cock twitching just a few centimeters away from your opening.

"Fucking hell...you're so goddamn pretty." He strains, swallowing hard as he touches you with hesitant hands, as if he's scared to break you. Your hips lift, just enough to make contact with the tip of his dick and you whine. It's a sound so sweet he almost whimpers himself.

"Please, Eds. I want you inside of me. Please."

His stomach tightens and he crawls over you once again, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

He maintains eye contact, breath fanning your mouth as he slips an arm between your bodies and grips his shaft, lining it up with your entrance. Your thighs lift towards your chest, ankles stationed at his waist, and you feel the welcome intrusion of his tip as it passes your slick labia.

You both take a breath in, your fingers needing a vice and moving to the back of his neck as he pivots his hips forward and slips himself into the tightness of your cunt. The stretch causes you to hiss, both in pleasure and pain.

"You okay? Let me know if I need to stop." He grunts, kissing your chin.

"M'okay, don't you dare stop."

His eyelids flutter in tandem with yours, a choked moan leaving his throat as he continues to push himself in, till he's nudging against the soft roundness of your cervix and his balls are resting against your ass.

It feels right. Having him this deep, this close.

You shudder nuzzling your face against the bicep that holds him up. You kiss the skin there and he groans, dragging himself back out and then back in. Your whole body jostles with the movement.

"Jesus Christ, how do you feel s'fucking good? I don't - I can't, fuck." He's a slur of words, beginning to form a steady rhythm. Your moans are more like squeaks the faster he goes, increasing the lewd, sticky sounds between your legs that squelch with each drag and pull of his cock.

"Eddie...E-eddie." Your words are hiccuped from the impact, his hair dangling in your face, tickling your cheeks. His belly is pressed right against yours, the curls at the mound of his pelvis pressed against yours. He lets out this pained sound and goes to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

"My name, fuck say it again. Say it again." It's muffled but you can hear it right underneath your ear, his lips a soft vibration against your flesh. You feel so full, it's hard to speak at all. To say anything other than his name. So you recite it like it's the only words you know.

"Eddie Eddie Eddie Eddie." They're all punctuated with a whimper that starts from your diaphragm and crawls it's way out of your throat, pistoned by his hips and their grueling ministrations. Skin against skin can be heard from down the park, you're convinced, with how he's fucking you.

Eddie is fucking you. Your boyfriend, Eddie, is fucking you.

"Ohhhh, god, please." You cry out, heels digging into his back, hands splayed across the broad expanse of his shoulder blades. Every breath that passes his lips is followed by a grunt, a groan, a sound that is so close to agony and even closer to toe curling pleasure.

Each stroke of his cock inside of you feels like a pull into his being, and you get frustrated with the fact that you can't see his face, tugging at the back of his neck.

When you look up at the boy above you, reality, for once, feels like the most beautiful thing you've ever endured.

He's flushed, all sweat and shades of pink and red. His eyes are glassy, mirroring yours in the way that it almost looks like he could shed a tear. You move his sticky bangs from his forehead and Eddie is sucker punched in the gut with a wave of adoration.

"Oh, sweetheart," he leans down, slowing his thrusts so that he can kiss you steadily, purposefully. Somehow he feels deeper this way impossibly so, and he nips your bottom lip when you flutter around him. "didn't mean to...to not show you attention m'sorry, just...you feel so good. S'like heaven."

He's half sober half drunk on your pussy and it's so fucking endearing. Neither of you can make out a coherent sentence.

"Keep - keep going, just like that, ohhh." You glance down between your bodies and somewhere behind your organs a warmth, teetering unbearable, flutters throughout your limbs. His arms shake with the fight to hold himself up, until he doesn't anymore, and slips his hands underneath you till they're sandwiched between the mattress and your back. Snug, safe, he engulfs you.

His thrusts are deep and slow now, meaningful instead of mindless bunny fucking. Which, he's not opposed to, but you're you. He wants to fuck you like he might not ever get the chance to again.

"I love you, I love you." He whimpers against the crook of your shoulder. You hold him with the same ferocity that he's holding you, staring up at the ceiling and the stars that blanket your vision instead of the fan above.

"I love you too, fuck, Eddie."

He makes this noise, it's almost pathetic. Petulant. That coil holding you tight, snaps and all at once you're gasping, thighs a deadly grip around his waist.

"Cu-Cumming, I'm cumming." Your walls flex and spasm around his length and Eddie thinks he might pass out. You're still twitching and whining his name with his balls are emptying, when he's spurting into the condom, nudging your cervix.

"Fuck, fuck just like tha- ohhh fuck." He thrusts like he's fucking his cum into you, like he's filling your womb up and making you his forever. He made you cum. He's never felt this high before, and he's a fucking drug dealer.

It's a mixture of panting and the thud of your shared heartbeat for what feels like eternity and one split second. You feel his lips peppering soft, gentle kisses along your jugular, and your fingers trace lines up and down his warm back as his cock softens inside of you.

He rubs his cheek against you, and your fingers pull his hair away from his pretty face. He's looking at you with so much love you could burst again.

"I love you so much." He speaks tenderly, softly, for once. It's scary and breathtaking all at once. The tip of his nose rubs yours, your smiles a reflection of the other.

"I love you too, Munson."

And you do. You really fucking do.

[libraryofgage]

Addams Family Steddie AU Part 3

Part One | Part Two

To preface, a bitch is sick rn so if you see any typos, no you didn't lol

"Robin, this is serious."

Steve can perfectly see Robin rolling her eyes through the phone as she says, "Oh, right, I'm so sorry your fiance-to-be is the perfect boyfriend who takes you on wonderful dates and romances you every single second you're together."

"I'm starting to think you're jealous."

"I'd only be jealous if Eddie had tits."

"He'd probably get some if I asked."

In the silence that follows, Steve can imagine Robin's scrunched face: her crinkled nose and curled lips and generally disgusted eyebrow furrow. He counts down from six in his head and then mouths along as Robin says, "I'd hang up if I weren't so invested in your love life."

"For someone so invested, you're not helping."

He hears a put-upon sigh through the speaker and returns it with a sigh of his own. Steve gives up on sitting properly and collapses back onto his bed, staring at the unmoving ceiling fan Hulyet is currently hanging from to nap.

"Fine, fine, what's the actual problem again?" Robin asks, her question followed by the sound of her shutting a book (one of her science textbooks based on the sound it makes when closing) so she can give Steve her full attention.

"Eddie is always planning our dates, and they're always really good, right? So I want to plan a date in return, but I have no clue how to plan something we'll both equally enjoy. In fact, I have no clue how Eddie plans our dates in the first place."

"Just start with something he likes and try to find something you'll like in it."

"Okay, say it again, but pretend I'm five."

Robin sighs again, and Steve hears the creaking of her bed as she collapses onto it. "Okay, the last date he planned, it was a hockey game, right?"

"Yeah."

"So, you like sports. Hockey is an obvious jump from there, but was Eddie also having fun at the game?"

Steve hums, reviewing their date from the week before. He hadn't expected Eddie to pull out hockey tickets, but he'd looked forward to it nonetheless. The game itself was fun, and the rink was cold enough that Steve had been able to scoot closer to Eddie and complain about being chilly.

Of course, Eddie's immediate response was to pull out a lighter, open it, and flick a flame to life while asking, "How big of a fire do you want, Stevie?"

For a brief moment, Steve had considered the question. But then he'd realized a fire would disrupt the hockey game, so they probably shouldn't start one.

After grabbing the lighter and stuffing it into his own pocket, Steve leaned closer and whispered, "Wouldn't you rather put your arm around me?" Eddie had lit up, and his smile was wide enough to make Steve feel blinded as he wrapped an arm around Steve's waist and pulled him closer.

It had been wonderful and romantic, right up until both of them got way too into the game and completely forgot about cuddling in favor of shouting at the players to hit harder and actually draw some blood to get the puck.

Steve smiles a little at the memory. "Yeah, he enjoyed the violence."

"Well, we all enjoy seeing buff people get a little bloody," Robin says, and Steve can see the way she's nodding like a wise man. "Anyway, he probably knew he'd enjoy the whole violence part of the sport. So, follow that formula."

"What formula are you seeing here?"

"Thing fiance-to-be likes plus a small part of it you could probably enjoy equals romance. If that's too hard, just get him a gift and plan the date around that."

Well, it sounds easy when she says it like that. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Because I'm the genius here, obviously. Now go plan a date so you can tell me all about it later. And I expect details, Steven. Sordid details. If I'm not quivering in my bodice, what's the fucking point."

"You don't even have a bodice. And my name isn't Steven."

"I'll get one, and your name is whatever's comedically appropriate."

"I found a good website for bodices and corsets, actually. I can send it to you."

"What are you doing on that website, Steve?" Robin asks, her voice light and eager.

Steve smirks, pulling the phone away from his ear and saying, "Wouldn't you like to know," before quickly hanging up. The phone stays silent for three whole seconds before Robin immediately calls back, but Steve is too busy laughing to actually pick up.

Part of why the Munsons moved to Steve's neighborhood is the cemetery within walking distance. The cemetery is at the very back of the neighborhood, hidden from people who don't actually live there. The front of the cemetery is perfectly presentable. The gravestones are clean and new, and flowers decorate most graves while others hold pebbles and stones of various sizes and colors.

The back of the cemetery, however, is a Munson paradise. The grass gives way to brown, under-watered weeds and dirt, the faded gravestones are covered in moss and plants climbing them, and the trees are perpetually leafless and spindly to create the perfect horror movie atmosphere. It was like that even before the Munsons moved to the neighborhood, but Steve doesn't actually know why.

The back of the cemetery is where Steve leads Eddie, occasionally looking back to make sure the blindfold covering Eddie's eyes is still in place. "You know, I was expecting more than walking when you pulled out the blindfold," Eddie says, squeezing Steve's hand.

"We're almost there," Steve promises, looking around them until he spots the picnic blanket and pillows he'd laid down earlier in front of a blank gravestone. There's a small projector on the edge of the blanket, facing the wall of a mausoleum, with a DVD player connected to it.

Steve stops at the edge of the blanket, takes a deep breath, and moves to stand in front of Eddie. "Okay," he says, reaching up and carefully pulling off the blindfold.

When it comes off, Eddie looks straight at Steve, not sparing a glance at the set-up behind him. "Are you the surprise?" he asks, sliding his hands around Steve's hips and pulling him closer.

"I'm not much of a surprise," Steve points out.

"You're the best gift I could ask for," Eddie says, sealing the words with a kiss that would be too easy for Steve to get lost in.

And he almost does, but he pulls away before Eddie's tongue can get too far into his mouth. "No, wait, you haven't seen the actual surprise," he mumbles, putting a few inches between them and gesturing to the picnic blanket.

Eddie's eyes light up, and he pulls Steve to the blanket. He sits against the headstone and tugs Steve down next to him. "Movie date in a graveyard? Very romantic, sweetheart," Eddie says, leaning close and kissing Steve's jaw.

"Well, that's not the whole surprise," Steve replies, leaning his head on Eddie's shoulder. He hears a quiet hum from above him and adds, "This is our spot."

"What? Like a make-out spot? We gonna sneak out in the middle of the night to make out right here twice a week?"

"Only twice?" Steve asks, his voice teasing as he tilts his head back to see Eddie smile. He doesn't give Eddie the chance to answer, though. Instead, he takes Eddie's hand and plays with his engaged-to-be-engaged ring. "I mean, this is our spot. We're leaning on our gravestone."

A few seconds pass before Eddie seems to actually process the words. When he does, he straightens up, tugging Steve away from the gravestone with him so he can see it. "Is this...a couple's plot?" he asks, his eyes wide as he looks from the stone to Steve.

Steve flushes, heat rising in his cheeks as he looks away. He takes a deep breath, deciding to just verbalize his thought process when he'd bought the plot. "I figured, well, we wouldn't want to be apart even in death. So we'll be buried together, you know? Our corpses will be embracing as we rot for eternity, becoming skeletons and dust that will only know each other."

The words are followed by silence, making Steve wonder if he somehow fucked up with his gift. He braces himself and glances up at Eddie to ask if he doesn't like it only to be pushed back on the blanket. Steve blinks, his brain barely catching up as Eddie kisses him. This is, by far, the most desperate kiss Steve has ever received from Eddie. It's a kiss that's practically begging Steve to give Eddie permission to swallow him whole, tuck him securely into the marrow of his bones, and hold him there so they'll never be apart.

Steve is a little confused, but he's far more interested in kissing back, sliding his fingers into Eddie's hair and tugging playfully as he bites Eddie's tongue. A rough growl in response sends shivers down Steve's spine, goosebumps spreading across his arms as Eddie pushes his hands under Steve's shirt.

Surprisingly warm fingers trail across Steve's abdomen before Eddie's hands settle on his hips, his pinkies teasingly pushing past the waistband of his jeans. Steve sighs softly, relaxing at the familiar sensation as he hooks one of his legs over Eddie's waist, pulling him close until their hips and chests are flush against each other.

Eddie grins against Steve's lips, his left hand trailing down Steve's waist to rest on his thigh, holding it in place as he teasingly grinds their hips together. Steve jolts, a surprised, quiet moan escaping him as his hands start to tremble with adrenaline and...well, sheer horniness if he's being honest.

"Please tell me we can fuck on our future grave," Eddie says, his voice low and husky as he speaks against Steve's lips.

Steve groans, fully agreeable to the idea only to realize two very important things. One, he doesn't have any lube, and two, he was actually looking forward to watching movies with Eddie, which wouldn't really happen if they got too distracted. Plus, you know, the whole sex in public thing, but that's not as big of a deal. Who's going to be visiting the cemetery on a Wednesday?

But Steve doesn't want to completely dash Eddie's hopes and the sheer joy in his eyes at the idea, so he presses another kiss to his lips and promises, "Later, Eddie."

Despite his disappointed expression, Eddie doesn't argue. He just sits up, pulling Steve with him so he stays in his lap. "I'll hold you to that, sweetheart," he whispers, kissing down Steve's neck until he reaches the point where it meets his shoulder. He bites down there, causing Steve to inhale sharply as he licks and sucks a hickey onto his skin.

Steve shakily exhales, biting his bottom lip to keep himself grounded. When it feels like Eddie is about to start on another hickey, Steve uses his grip on his hair to pull him back. "Stevie," Eddie breathes, his eyes dark as he looks up at him, "you know what pulling does to me."

Steve snorts, kisses his cheek, and climbs off his lap. "Keep it in your pants for now, babe. I actually want to get to the other part of this date," he says, moving over to the projector.

"And what's that?" Eddie asks.

"Classic monster movies," Steve says, grinning at the excited gasp that comes from Eddie as he turns on the projector. Once it boots up, the mausoleum wall shows the opening menu for a Monster Movie Collection DVD. Steve puts on Frankenstein, making sure the movie actually starts and the opening credits begin rolling before climbing back into Eddie's lap.

"I love you so fucking much," Eddie says, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist and hugging him close as he rests his chin on Steve's shoulder.

Steve grins, leaning back against him and idly playing with one of the rings on Eddie's fingers. "I love you, too. Now shut up and watch the movie. No more making out until at least this one is over."

"Yes, sir."

Steve can't help a soft laugh. He takes Eddie's hand, raises it to his lips, and playfully bites his palm before lacing their fingers together and focusing on the movie.

Tag List: @estrellami-1, @justforthedead89, @starman-jpg, @abstractnaturaldisaster, @sugartin, @ashwagandalf, @xjessicafaithx, If anyone else wants to be tagged in potential future parts, just let me know!

[taintedcigs]

dancing with our hands tied part II — s.h

you can find part I here

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY, minors dni!!, ANGST, making out, swearing, drinking, alcohol mention, JEALOUSY!!! eddie's a bit of an asshole i am sorry, but so is steve sometimes!! and so is reader? idk!

summary: in which steve is in love with his best friend's ex. (wc: 8k+)

a/n: this is part 2 of this fic here !! pls make sure to read it before this!! anddd, im sorry for how confusing the first part was, BUT HERE'S THE HIDEOUT INCIDENT!! and i didn't use POVs this time and i kinda gave up on dates ugrhh. also i have a little bonus content at the end even tho its so a lil silly!!! also did not proof-read this, pls ignore any mistakes or ill scream n d*e

Friday, February 7, 1986 || The Hideout.

Steve stole a glance in your direction, and immediately realized the mistake he had made. 

Jesus fucking Christ.

Why did you have to be so fucking perfect? Why did you have to have the most contagious laugh that immediately brought a warm smile to his lips? 

Steve leaned against the bar as he watched you further, reveling at the way your eyes crinkled at the corners when you gave Robin a giggle, nose scrunching as you mimicked whatever story you were telling, drawing him in without even having a clue on the effect you had on him.

Your eyes met his for a brief moment, his heart pounded inside of his ribcage when you looked at him like that, as if your eyes were smiling at him. He held your gaze, giving you a subtle nod. 

God, if Steve didn’t tell you how he felt about you soon, he was sure he was going to explode.  

He turned back to the bar, head filled with the idea of opening up to you, he had to do it soon or else—

“Harrington!” Eddie beamed, interrupting his thoughts as he grabbed onto Steve’s shoulders, “You mind helpin’ me out?” He grinned, causing Steve’s brows to furrow. 

“Can you put in a good word for me?” Eddie muttered, hand pointing toward the booth, “What are you talking about?” Steve muttered, his eyes following him.

“Y/N.” Steve hoped to God that Eddie didn’t notice the shock in his eyes, blinking quickly as he tried to control the jealousy building within him. 

“I swear I’ve had the biggest crush on her,” Eddie exclaimed. Steve couldn’t help the way his face fell; he wondered if Eddie could notice it, but by the way he grinned at you, Eddie probably had no fucking clue about his feelings for you. 

“Since when?” Steve sounded bitter, chewing at the inside of his mouth to stop himself, “Uh, since forever, dude,” Eddie said, chuckling.

“Put in a little good word for me, yea? I know you guys are close and shit,” Eddie gushed as he squeezed Steve’s shoulders again, and Steve was tense now, his entire body almost burning with rage and resentment. 

Maybe it was wrong for Steve to be petty about this; maybe it wasn’t fair to you that he spent the rest of the night ignoring you; maybe it wasn’t right for him to act this way, but Steve had been on this rodeo before. 

He was always the second choice, and he knew that he was never going to be someone’s priority. Because of that, his reaction was warranted; at least that’s what he believed. Ignoring you completely while he bitterly watched Eddie make moves on you was the only way he could cope with it. 

And it was driving him crazy, knowing that Eddie was getting under your skin with the advice he got from Steve and learning everything about you from him. 

At first, it was all just some passive aggressiveness, until it turned into something bigger, until you finally couldn’t take it anymore. 

Because there stood Steve, across from the gang’s booth, leaning over the wall as he whispered something into Tammy’s ear—Steve’s ex.

With her shiny blonde hair and her big eyes, she threw him a hearty giggle, sticking to his side, while Steve barely blinked, allowing her to drool all over him.

You had no right to be jealous, not when Steve had no clue about your feelings, not when Steve didn’t owe you a thing, but you couldn’t help the frown on your face as he ignored you all night and was fine with stupid Tammy Thompson being all over him.

Your throat burned with the number of shots you took, you could never handle your tequila, but the numbness was exactly what you needed. Your mind was getting dizzier with Steve being pushed back into your thoughts.

You could feel yourself getting lighter and lighter with each sip, gaze barely holding over Steve’s direction anymore when Eddie had been keeping you company the whole night.

To think Steve was supposed to be your close friend felt like a joke now. The more he was with the blondie, the more you felt your stomach churning, gaze drifting toward Eddie to keep yourself from looking in his direction.

You felt desperate.

Steve probably saw you as the girl who was wrapped around his finger, the girl who followed him around like a puppy. Maybe that’s why he was ignoring you, trying to keep you from clinging to him.

You fidgeted in your seat; not being able to get up and tear her off of him was killing you, and  your head was pounding because of the amount alcohol in your system.

It was getting harder to ignore the jealousy that gnawed at your insides. 

Eddie didn’t seem to notice anything, but Steve did.

With each shot you took, with each step you took closer to Eddie, Steve couldn’t help the sharp pain he felt in his chest, the same rage of jealousy gnawing at him as well. He knew he couldn’t do anything about it, too, so he buried it deeper and deeper until he could make sure those feelings for you were impossible to reach.

You were going to be dating Eddie, and Steve needed to get over you as fast as he could.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t mind the attention coming from his ex.

By the time Steve arrived back at the booth, Nancy and Jonathan were already gone, you were in the bathroom—possibly puking your guts out, and Robin was getting ready to leave.

“What the fuck happened here?” He asked, concern washing over his face. “She drank a bit too much,” Robin mumbled, knowing how much Steve cared about you.

“You should maybe check on her, yea?” She gave Steve an all-knowing look, causing him to shrug.

“I can’t—” Robin interrupted him with a death glare.

“I would, but I have to go or my mom will actually kill me this time,” She groaned, saying her goodbyes before leaving in a hurry. 

“Dude, I gotta bail too,” Eddie puffed his cheeks as he put on his leather jacket. “What?” Steve asked, baffled.

“She’s wasted!” He exclaimed, his eyebrows shooting up quickly, causing Eddie to shrug, “She’s probably puking her guts out right now, she needs you.” Steve’s eyes narrowed; he couldn’t believe that Eddie would even think about leaving you alone in a condition like this. 

“Gross, dude,” Eddie said, making a face as he cringed, causing Steve to roll his eyes. 

“Real fuckin’ mature, Munson.”

“You drop her home, man, I’m too fuckin’ hammered for all of this.” He gave Steve’s shoulder another tight squeeze; this time Steve was sure his blood was boiling, his eyes darkening with each word Eddie spoke.

This asshole had the audacity to use him to try to date you, and he couldn’t even fucking treat you, right? Steve shook off his thoughts before he could do something he knew he would regret.

Eddie was his best friend, and he could never let his feelings for you get in the way of you actually being happy.

“Are you going to get a cab?” Steve asked, “Yeah,” Eddie muttered mindlessly.

“Then give me your jacket.” Steve’s tone was now cold, almost demanding, and his demeanor changing within seconds was throwing Eddie off, 

“No fuckin’ way,” Eddie chuckled mockingly, he didn’t notice the serious gaze Steve holds.

“Dude, your house is five minutes away, you’ll be fine, just give me your jacket,” He demanded again.

“Why the fuck would I do that?” Eddie spat.

“Because you asshole, it’s the middle of February and Y/N is wearing a fucking dress, it’s the least you could do for leaving her like that.”

“Why don’t you give her yours?” Steve didn’t know how to control the rage coursing through his veins.

“Do you see me wearing a fucking jacket?” Eddie was sure he had never seen Steve like this, with those veins in his forehead visible as he could feel his fists clench. Eddie’s eyes widened, clearly taken aback by Steve’s bizarre behavior.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Eddie mumbled before taking off the jacket with a few huffs escaping from his lips.

“There, you happy, man?” Eddie hissed, almost tossing the jacket toward Steve, “Fucking ecstatic,” Steve replied with an angry smirk.

Steve sighed before he made his way to the bathroom. Not knowing what was waiting for him inside, he knocked on the door hesitantly and asked, “Y–you okay?” The shakiness in his voice was exposing him.

A faint ‘Yeah’ was all he heard before you unlocked the door.

And there you laid on the dirty bathroom tiles, your hair disheveled, make-up smudged, and you could barely get your head up from the toilet seat.

Steve’s heart sank, guilt settling in his insides again like an old friend. He knew he couldn’t always take care of you, and he knew that you’d be with Eddie soon, but he couldn’t help but feel the crushing weight of guilt when all of this could’ve been avoided if he was just there for you. 

And his mind was still reeling about the fact that Eddie dared to leave you like this.

Would the fucker even be able to treat you right?

“Want me to help you?” He asked, hands itching to reach out and hold you, but you dismissed him like it was nothing, like he didn’t mean anything to you anymore, and it had only been an hour since Steve had learned that Eddie was into you. 

“No,” Even when you were this messed up, you held onto your grudge, shutting out any feelings of understanding or empathy toward Steve, even though he was only trying to help you out.

“I can help, to, you know—hold your hair and stuff,” He stuttered, he had never been this nervous around you.

You flushed the toilet as you attempted to get up, “I’m not—I didn’t throw up,” Your words were slurred.

“If you… if you feel like throwing up, I can—”

“No!” You exclaimed a bit too loudly, throwing him a cold stare. “I’m just trying to help you, Y/N.” His tone sounded disappointed, but you could care less when he had acted like a jerk most of the night.

“I don’t need your help,” You snapped while flushing the toilet, trying to stand still, your head growing dizzier each time you moved.

Steve breathed a heavy sigh and said, “Here.” He ignored your protests as he helped you up, warm hands were tight around your waist. If you weren’t this embarrassingly drunk and a huge mess, you would’ve started getting your hopes up.

But not after today, not after he ignored you to be with Tammy Thompson all fucking night.

“I got it!” You spat, trying to free yourself from his hold. “Let me help, please.” This was the most genuine he had been tonight, his voice almost pleading as he threw you that pitiful look, and you hated it.

You hated being the one Steve pitied and not the one he pined after, but you swallowed your pride when you realized you couldn’t even walk properly.

You barely questioned everyone’s absence when your mind was filled with Steve. 

And once he dragged you out of the bar, you couldn’t help the petty words that escaped your lips; you couldn’t stop them even if you wanted to.

“You can get back to your girlfriend now,” You muttered bitterly, your voice clear. There was venom in your tone, and your grudge was poison with the way it seeped into your words.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Steve sighed, and you lightly pushed him off of you as you stood still on your own.

“Does the name Tammy Thompson ring a bell?” You narrowed your eyes. You wish you could tape your mouth right now and stop yourself from spilling so much of your feelings to Steve.

“What does that have to do with anything, Y/N?” His tone remained cold now; your heart was in his hands, and he was squeezing it each time he distanced himself from you. 

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite,” Each time you dismissed him, you unknowingly tore open the old wound in his heart, keeping it fresh. 

“If—if you wanted to take care of me so badly, then why did you ignore me all fuckin’ night?” Your face heated with anger, and your tone was tinged with frustration. 

“Should go back to fuckin’ blondie over there,” You muttered under your breath, avoiding eye contact with him, unable to conceal the bitterness you were holding onto. 

“Oh my god,” The realization dawned on Steve at a crawl.

You were jealous of him.

“You are jealous,” Steve couldn’t help the annoying smile on his lips, much to your dismay. You were jealous of him, and as selfish as it was, it was amusing to him. 

“What?” You snapped, eyes narrowing, “I’m not jealous—” The look Steve threw at you was enough to break you. “Jerk,” You mumbled under your breath. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, it dooooeees,” He said, dragging his words out to annoy you further, as he took a step closer to you, almost closing the distance that he had been keen on protecting the entire night. 

He was frustrating, so fucking frustrating, spinning your head faster than all the booze in your system. You couldn’t help the way your eyes grew mellow when he looked at you like that, you wanted to take all of him in. 

This entire day was beginning to grow tiring, from Eddie’s sudden interest in you to Steve’s emotional whiplash, and now, since you couldn’t keep your mouth shut for one goddamn second, he was aware of your unnecessary jealousy. 

“I’m not doin’ this with you,” You slurred again, hands wrapping around yourself almost as an attempt to conceal yourself from him, he could see right through you, and it was making you feel things you were not ready for. 

“W—where is Eddie?” Those were the worst three words that could come out of your mouth. Just when Steve was basking in the glory and the hope that you were jealous of him, you decided to bring up Eddie, and with just his name rolling off your lips, you were re-opening his wounds.

Why not him?

Why was it never Steve?

Steve gulped; physically, he wasn’t sure what step to take would be better, to put a distance between you and him or to put a distance between him and Eddie. 

And even though he knew he would regret doing this like there’s no tomorrow, even though Eddie doesn’t fucking deserve this decency, or you, Steve decided that he can’t do this to his friend. 

“At least he’ll take me home!” You exclaimed so confidently that Steve couldn’t help the dry chuckle that escaped his lips. 

“Yeah, I’m sure he would.” Steve quipped, grinning. He was mocking you again, unaware of your growing frustrations.

“What the hell is your problem?” You narrowed your eyes. “Unlike you, he didn’t ignore me all night to be with his ex, and he gave me his jacket.” Steve chuckled at that, again, frustrating you more and more, each time he opened his mouth. 

With an irritated frown, you shot a sharp glance at him and asked, “Is everything a fucking joke to you?” 

“Do you enjoy making me upset?” You crossed your arms against your chest, “You don’t give a fuck about anyone but yourself!” You snapped, not even knowing know why you uttered those words, you knew better than anyone that Steve wasn’t selfish; he never once put himself in front of his friends, but you were aiming to hurt him, and he was ready to bite back now. 

“You are so fucking ridiculous, I—I can’t do this with you,” You murmured dejectedly, not being able to help it when your voice cracked; he was so embedded in your brain that you couldn’t form coherent words with the space he took up in your mind.

“You have no idea what you’re even talking about,” He whispered, shaking his head. If only you knew.

“Did you actually stop to think about how shitty it makes me feel when you give me these stupid emotional whiplashes?” You asked, and if you dared to get closer to him, you might’ve lost the purpose of the argument, your gaze drooping down to his lips every few seconds.

Steve stared at you blankly; you were unable to make anything out of his expressions, he looked at you as if you never existed to him, on a fucking whim.

Your lips tremble, a telltale sign that you would break soon.

His no response spoke volumes to you, “Of course you didn't.” You gave him a dry chuckle, filled with bitterness, and turned on your heel to walk away from him.

The slight breeze of February air hit you harder than Steve’s words.

He sighed a heavy breath when he heard you gasp at the coldness, hand reaching out to your arm before he spun you to meet his gaze again,

“Watch it, Y/N.” The words slipped past his lips forcefully, his chest puffing down with each breath he took. He was so fucking close that one move from you would change everything.

The tension was palpable; unspoken words and emotions hung in the space between the two of you.

And there it was.

There were his emotions again, filling his gaze quicker than you realized. If you weren’t this shitfaced, you could possibly do something about the ever so slightly distance between you, your foreheads almost touching. But your mind was spinning with endless possibilities. “Or what?” You teased; maybe it wasn’t the right time to do so, but you wanted to push him, make him break, the same way he did to you.

How far was he willing to take it?

His grip on your arm tightened; it wasn’t harsh, but tight enough to send shivers down your spine. And you couldn’t determine a single thing he was thinking again, eyes locked with each other without a single word being spoken.

You could sense his mind wandering off to find you a proper answer, trying to pick his words carefully, but you didn’t want that.

You wanted to know what he was thinking—what was going through his mind when he looked at you like you meant something to him, like he was ready to risk it all.

It was momentarily, but you could see it all—the sudden flint of confidence that didn’t waver enough to be convincing.

It wasn’t long until he returned to the cold demeanor he had been reserving just for you. “No, you’re not fucking worth it,” He muttered, taking a step back before he bit the inside of his cheek—hard. The metallic taste of blood flooded his senses, but he could care less; if he hadn’t done it, he would’ve poured his heart out.

He would’ve risked it all just to see those sparks in your eyes, but with five words, he had managed to kill it, slitting all the possibilities with the sharpest knife he could find.

“W–what?” Your voice cracked, and you fucking hated it. You hated being this weak in front of him, with tears ready to spill every time you had an argument, even over the smallest things.

“Just–Fuck! Look at you,” He didn’t want to say it; he didn’t want to burn this bridge with you, but he knew he had to for his own sake and for you to be happy with Eddie.

“You—you’re all over the place, always relying on others to take care of you, just one fucking night I didn’t baby you…” He shook his head. “And you act like I’m fuckin’ insane for doing that!” His voice was calm and collected, and that was what was throwing you off. How could he relay your insecurities in front of you, crush your heart to pieces, and pretend as if what he was saying was okay?

You couldn’t help it when tears flooded your vision. You tried not to let them get to you, but the alcohol in your system was far too dizzying and hormonal to stop your emotions from flowing. You didn’t know why he decided to utter those words, but it hurt.

Each of the gazes you shared and each word that transpired, deepened the wound in your insides that you didn’t even know existed, your feelings were at the surface, and you were vulnerable at his expense.

But Steve didn’t care. 

“I—I can’t believe you’d say that,” You whispered, blinking the tears away when you took a step back, the hurt subsiding when it transformed into rage. “Fuck you,” You spat, your words weren’t slurred this time, but your vision was blurry again, barely taking another look at him when you started to walk away.

And he didn’t call out after you; he didn’t even flinch. 

You were all alone.

You let your emotions overtake you as you started sobbing, sniffling every once in a while as you tried to comfort yourself. 

Eddie could drop you home, you tried to reassure yourself, you knew there was a payphone close to The Hideout, if you could just walk a few more minutes, you could just call him—but holy fuck, did your feet hurt. You cursed yourself for not listening to Nancy when she told you to wear more comfortable shoes.

You were wobbly now, tears pouring down your cheeks, your smudged mascara distorting your view further, and it was dark out, so fucking dark that it started to scare you.

Your mind reeled more and more, and your chest felt trapped with each shallow breath you took. Eddie would’ve never uttered those words to you, your angry mind decided, Eddie wouldn’t flirt with girls—his exes—in front of you.

Eddie would never give you this sort of emotional whiplash.

And most importantly, Eddie would never leave you like this.

You felt so tired, just wanting to sleep, but you knew you couldn’t turn back now. Your feet were aching, but you’d rather they blistered than see Steve again.

You sat on the ground, relief washing over you when you got rid of your shoes, and the dirty, cold concrete ground felt so comforting that you nuzzled into the leather jacket, arms wrapped around yourself to provide more warmth as you sniffled into it.

You’re not sure if you can ever be with Steve anymore.

Sure, you could still be friends because you did have many big, stupid fights—granted, none of them were like this; this was different. 

This was the first big fight you had with him since you realized your feelings for him, and it hurt.

Steve was not who you thought he was.

He was never going to love you.

He only saw you as his friend, and right now, even that was questionable.

And there you were, pathetically pining after him while he was drooling all over other girls, chasing him down and making a mess of yourself just for him to leave you like this.

You sniffled again; Eddie would never, and he actually was interested in you.

God, how you wished he could find you now, take you home, and whisper sweet nothings into your ear as he tried to mend what Steve broke.

You knew it was selfish, but it was the only way.

Maybe if Eddie could make you forget him completely, he could remind you that you weren’t a mess and that you were perfect.

Your vision blurred again, hot tears were stinging your eyes, but the ground was so comfortable.

Steve was right, you were a mess, you were a huge fucking mess, and you were pathetic, but you didn’t care as you hugged yourself further, head falling into your lap as you let yourself fall more and more into the deep pit of despair.

And that’s the last thing you remembered.

You didn’t remember Steve running after you as he realized how much he fucked up; you don’t remember Steve seeing you curled up into a ball, almost falling asleep.

You don’t remember Steve lifting you up and carrying you before anything bad happened to you.

You don’t remember the apologies Steve muttered into your ear on the ride home, how he checked every few seconds to make sure you were okay, his hands never leaving yours as he wanted to punch himself for even putting you in a position like this.

You don’t remember Steve whispering sweet nothings into your ear when he tucks you in, and you don’t remember him almost staying till the morning to make sure you were okay and didn’t get sick. 

The last thing you remember was the fight. 

You woke up the next morning with a groan, and you were sure no painkiller was going to help the pounding in your head. 

You couldn’t help but cringe when you looked in the mirror, your hair was an absolute mess, the top that adorned your neck was covered with alcohol stains, your make-up was smudged, and you only had one earring.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” You sighed, taking off the dirty clothes as you put on a comfy shirt, your room was as messy as you were, bag on the floor while its contents spilled out, and… a leather jacket?

Slowly but surely, last night’s events came to you in a blur. The last thing you remembered was the fight you had with Steve. 

Both of you spewed some hurtful things at one another, and that’s the clearest you could remember it.

You examined the leather jacket sprawled over the floor, and your brows knitted together, Steve didn’t even have a jacket on last night; you remembered because Robin made fun of him for not bringing a jacket in February when Steve whined about being cold.

You read the tagline; E.M. 

Oh god.

Was it… Eddie? Did he drop you off when you were embarrassingly drunk?

Was Eddie the one who took care of you the whole night while Steve threw you away like a piece of paper?

You remembered the hurtful things he said to you; your mind was too jumbled up to even recall the nice things he said to you afterward.

You knew you have to talk to him, mend your friendship, but all you could think about now was Eddie, how he took care of you, and how he was there for you. 

That day you called him, and he told you in detail how wasted you were and how he had to carry you home. You made up with Steve afterward too, both of you muttering apologies to each other as you promised not to let stupid things get out of hand. 

And that day, Eddie took you on your first date with him. 

NOW

“Buckley, you mind ringing these up for me?” You beamed, throwing her an innocent smile, your eyes wandering off to Steve’s absence next to her.

You gave her the ‘Evil Dead II’ and ‘Dirty Dancing’ VHS tapes nonchalantly, waiting to ask her about Steve.

Robin’s eyebrows shot up, “What kind of a double-feature is this supposed to be, huh?”

“A very fun one,” You said with a slight smirk, handing her a couple of bills.

You scanned the store, he was nowhere to be seen, of fucking course. “Harrington running from me again?” You almost cursed yourself for saying that out loud, but you couldn’t help it, something snarky would’ve slipped out eventually.

You saw Robin almost freeze, her mouth hanging open as her brain short-circuited to find a quick answer.

“I—It’s fine,” You mumbled. “Just tell him I would really like to talk to him. Once his weird tantrum is over?” You commented; it was snarky again, but he deserved it.

Five days had passed since the party, and Steve had been avoiding you like the plague, not returning your phone calls, and sneaking out the back each time you visited Family Video, and it was driving you crazy.

Determined to talk to him, you spent the last few days re-evaluating everything. You wanted to ask him what the fuck he meant—was everything that led to you dating Eddie a lie?

And did Steve never think to tell you this, even once the two of you broke up? His audacity was pissing you off, more than ever now that he was avoiding you.

Then small things started coming back to you in a flash, like the drunken confession you made to him last week.

But you were still clueless about The Hideout. You racked your brain away, but you couldn’t remember it for the life of you. Even the fight with Steve was so vaguely burned into the back of your brain, you simply didn’t want to remember it, or the hurtful words he uttered to you that night.

You had decided to forgive and forget, had no intention of going back to that head space, until recently, when Steve decided to blurt out that he was the one in Hideout, leaving without explaining anything further.

You tried to fish it out of Robin, but she acted clueless, and you tried everything you could do to reach out to Steve, but it was useless.

So that only left you with one thing.

Eddie.

Eddie had told you the day after The Hideout incident that it was he who took you home, detailing everything that happened that night.

You were basically breathless by the time you made it to Eddie’s trailer, knocking on the door, until it hit you.

What the fuck were you doing? Knocking on Eddie’s door when he had no fucking clue what was happening, when he had no idea you and Steve had kissed.

When he had no idea that you knew.

You shook your head in embarrassment as you turned around, about to leave, coincidentally and to your dumb luck, that’s when Eddie had decided to open the door.

He stood speechless when he saw you, his eyes almost bulging out of his head. “Y/N?” He asked, tone barely audible.

“Hi.” You muttered, accepting Eddie’s invitation as he stood aside for you to enter, and you squeezed by him with a quick ‘thank you’

“Look, I know you’re wondering why the fuck your ex showed up at your door but—”

“Oh, don’t worry.” He interrupted

“I do have an idea,” He smirked slightly, causing you to throw him a confused look, you were about to open your mouth, ask a million questions, but he didn’t let you.

“I know everything,” He muttered, and you couldn’t decide his facial expressions. “Steve told me about all of it.”

“And I already told him there was no bad blood between me and you and that it was fine that you guys kissed—”

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

“What?!?” You exclaimed, not expecting Steve to babble about it to Eddie when he had been avoiding you.

“Look, honey, Steve was all blabbering and shit when he came to see me, tellin’ me all this shit about how much he liked you and how sorry he was,” Eddie said with a concerned look.

“And I told him it was all fine, Christ—when did we even date, like 2 years ago?” You didn’t answer him and he sighed. 

“I always knew the two of you had something for each other, I mean, why’d you think I got so jealous anytime you guys hung out together alone? He was definitely—“” He rambled for what felt like minutes, and you were quick to interrupt it, eyes blinking rapidly as you tried to process what the fuck was going on.

“Stop!” You exclaimed, “That’s… uhm– good to know, but not what I came in here for,” You muttered, eyes wandering to the ground.

He threw you a quizzed look, brows knitted up together, “I–I wanted to ask you about something,” You gulped.

“Well, spill it out, sweetheart, you’re makin’ me all nervous and shit.” He gave you a dry chuckle.

“What–what exactly happened that day?” You knew he was going to ask what the fuck you were talking about, so you cut him off before he got a chance to speak.

“At The Hideout… Two years ago.” You could see Eddie almost panic visibly, he didn’t expect it, and did it really matter now, after everything?

“Shit… why won’t you ask Steve about all this?” He scratched his head, it was all awkward, you coming here, asking him something that was two years ago, Steve telling Eddie about the kiss while refusing to acknowledge you… 

It was embarrassing, really, and with each passing minute, a rage fueled inside of you. Sick of the hiding, and the lies. You just wanted the truth, and for Steve to not run at the first inconvenience.

“I would, if he didn’t avoid me like a fucking child,” You spat under your breath, causing Eddie to chuckle. He shook his head again.

“Right, so… I’m assuming since it was two years ago, you won’t be mad at me, right?” He asked, an innocent look spreading over his face, almost fearing as he saw how angry you were at Steve.

You almost rolled your eyes, these two idiots were making your blood boil. “Just want the truth, Munson, then I’ll be gone, I promise.”

“Right!” He chuckled nervously before telling you everything that happened that night.

You called Eddie right after you found his jacket, blabbering like an idiot as you thanked him a million times. While Eddie had no fuckin’ clue what had happened, he was still trying to get over his own hangover, but he wasn’t going to completely shut you down, not when he wanted you this badly, not when you were in the grasp of his hands.

As soon as you hung up, promising him a date, he called Steve, and he didn’t even have to beg him to play along; Steve was just... okay with it.

Steve knew the moment Eddie told him about his little crush that the two of you had no chance and that Steve would only be a little thought in the back of your mind, while Eddie would be the first choice, because why wouldn’t he?

Why would you choose him over Eddie?

And with all the sudden information flooding your mind, you weren’t sure how to react, how to vent all these emotions running through your veins, so you did it the only way you knew how; anger.

You checked the clock; 10.08

Steve’s shift should’ve ended long ago by now, you barely mumbled a goodbye to Eddie when you left, mind focused on one thing.

Steve.

You arrived at his door with your lips tightening and your jaw clenching, you weren’t going to give up now; you were going to talk to him. Now or never.

You knocked on the door so hard that you were sure your knuckles were bruising, and Steve was baffled when he opened the door, mouth almost agape as he looked at the sight in front of him.

“You know what you are? A fucking coward,” You mumbled, not giving him a second to process anything as you shook your head. 

“You are a selfish fucking coward! Do you think you can make decisions for other people? You think you can just take their choices away and pretend like everything is fucking fine!” Steve didn’t utter a word when you let it all out, your words meshing with each other, and you could feel your blood boiling each time you spoke, but it was… weirdly relieving.

All that pent up anger was finally coming out.

“And you told Eddie?!? You fucking talked to him but didn’t have the guts to even face me! Five days, five fucking days, I followed you around, you fucking jerk!” You spat, your eyes flashed with anger as your face came closer to him, he didn’t even flinch, eyeing you curiously, those deep honey glazed eyes were warming the more he looked at you.

And Oh God, was his gaze inviting, so warm, but you couldn’t soften up… not when you still had so much to say.

“Do you know how embarrassing it is for me? No—no… Fuck that! I don’t even give a fuck if it's embarrassing, I’ve been–I’ve been living a lie and you–it’s your fault…” You mumbled the last part, chest heaving, when your fiery gaze met his, he was itching to talk, and you could tell.

“That—that’s a bit dramatic don’t you think?” He muttered, causing your eyes to narrow, “Look why don’t we just go inside and have an adult conversation? No need for these tantrums—” And that hit a nerve. 

“Don’t,” You muttered, closing your eyes, the rage bubbling up to the surface again, gnawing at your skin, waiting to welcome you.

“Don’t you fucking dare to tell me to have an ‘adult conversation’ when you’ve been avoiding me like the plague!” You exclaimed angrily, face heating with anger, Steve nodded, understandingly. He didn’t mean to sound like a jerk, he just wanted to talk to you. He had been debating what to do these last five days, and shutting you out during that was obviously stupid, but that’s how he handled everything, wallowing it all until he chewed his emotions, keeping them hidden.

“What was I supposed to do?” He asked, almost defeated, and it made you want to chuckle, he was sending you over the edge.

“Are you kidding me?” It wasn’t a question; it was stupid for Steve to even attempt to open his mouth.

“You could have talked to me!” You took a deep breath; your anger wasn’t going to help, and if you didn’t talk to Steve as soon as possible, your head might have exploded.

You sighed as Steve stood aside, leading you to the living room, and your anger subsided with each step you took. The familiarity of the house was engulfing you, and you wanted to scream. 

What if Steve had told you this would change nothing?

What if this was it for the two of you?

Your head was swirling, and it hurt, both physically and emotionally. It was taking a toll on you and Steve could sense it.

“What—what really happened… that day?” You asked, voice barely audible as you avoided his gaze.

Steve sighed as he took a seat next to you on the couch, hand itching to lay on your thigh, squeeze it to make you feel comfortable, just so you would look at him, but he resisted it, hand flexing as he placed it between the two of you.

“You–you remember our fight?” He mumbled, causing you to nod. “We both said some stupid shit to each other—”

“Well, you started it—” You gazed up at him, and this time he threw you a look, causing you to close your mouth as if to signal him to continue.

“And—and you left… and the second you did, I just felt this horrible fucking pit in my stomach, I could never—I could never leave you like that,” His voice was shaking, hands flexing again as he inched closer to you.

“I found you on the street, Y/N, almost passed out, and I lost my goddamn mind for leaving you alone—even for a second, I ca—I can’t fucking imagine what I would even do if anything happened to one–one fucking strand of your hair—just the thought makes me sick to my stomach—Jesus.” He muttered, face still toward you as you could trace it now, the worried lines etched onto his forehead, a frown taking upon his usual plump lips, voice cracking as you could sense it, the utter worry and desperation in his voice. 

You couldn’t open your mouth, words failing you as you opted out to hold his hand instead, a small gesture, but one that made Steve’s entire stiffness disappear. One touch from you warming him up immediately.

“I took you home as fast as I could—I tucked you in, made sure you didn’t get sick, and then I left.” 

“Why?” You asked, meekly.

“Why did you let me believe it was him? Why did you ignore me that night?”

“It–it doesn’t matter now,” He mumbled, and your brows furrowed again, fury still locked up inside of you.

“It fucking does!” You snarled, insides burning with anticipation and anger.

“Stop being a fucking coward,” You yelled, you didn’t want to scream at his face, but he left you with no choice. If you wanted to talk to him, you had to get some things out of him, no matter how much it angered you.

“Just tell me, Steve, full transparency, I want it all out.”

Steve’s silence caused a groan out of you, “If you don’t, I’m gonna leave… for good,” You whispered. 

You were bluffing; you weren’t going to go anywhere without getting some closure, but Steve didn’t know that, and he had never seen you this riled up, so he sighed when you got up.

“I didn’t want to lose you!” He got up after you, staring at your back for a full minute until you turned around to meet him, a quizzed look overtaking your features.

“What?”

“God! I wanted to—Shit. I wanted to tell you about how I felt, but then Eddie came and he told me all about how he had feelings for you, and, uh, I just panicked— so fucking hard. I knew you would have chosen him, and I had that rejection one too many fuckin’ times, and I—I knew I couldn’t handle it from you!” He exclaimed, breath ragged as his brown orbs looked at you with such sympathy that you wanted to drop everything and kiss him, tell him that he would always be your first choice.

“I knew you would choose him and—” 

“I didn’t want to be a second choice again, Y/N, I was so fucking scared—” You shook your head.

“Steve you—god, you have no fucking clue about anything,” You chuckled dryly, interrupting him.

“When you ignored me for Tammy that night, when you told me that I wasn’t ‘worth it’ that’s when I decided to contain my feelings for you, I knew you didn’t like me for anything more than friends—I always thought we had a ‘will they won’t they’ kind of relationship but that night, confirmed it for me,” You looked away, almost ashamed, face burning up.

“I felt so fucking desperate—like you wanted to push me away like I was an idiot girl who was clinging onto you, and now everything is just so confusing that I don’t even know what is going on.” Your hands ran through your hair.

“But you were and will always be my first choice,” You didn’t mean to smile, but it just appeared, anger washing away. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” You muttered, and Steve’s entire demeanor changed, his body relaxing as he realized how much of an idiot he had been.

“What?” He asked, baffled, a small smile overtaking his lips before you could say another word. 

“Yeah,” You murmured, taking a step closer to him, 

“So… we’re both idiots, huh?” He asked, basking in the way you looked up at him, batting your eyelashes as your warm aura engulfed him.

“Hmmm… I’d say it’s more you than me,” You mumbled, scrunching your nose, as Steve huffed playfully, inching closer and closer to you. You didn’t know where this took the two of you, but your mind was so busy when he was standing this close to you.

One strand of his hair fell onto his forehead, and all you wanted to do was run your fingers through them, kiss every inch of his face, run your lips along his soft ones, feel his calloused hands on your curves, grabbing desperately, meek grunts leaving his lips, both of you breathless.

And that’s exactly what you did—without a care, you closed the distance between the two of you with an annoyed huff, fingers running through his shiny hair. 

His hands were quick to land on your hips, grabbing them like he was afraid of you slipping away, once again. And it all felt so easy and familiar that you could feel your head spinning.

His lips brushed against yours softly. You didn’t want this moment to be over, wanting to cling to him forever. Everything he did made you feel foolish and insane, and you understood why being in love felt like losing your mind, again.

Steve groaned into your lips, kissing you harder, once, twice, his lips never fully letting go of you, and you didn’t know if it would ever be enough for you, utterly craving nothing but him.

Your mind was jelly at this point, everything was tangled together while the question of ‘What’s going to happen now?’ lingered in your mind. Did he still want you? Did he still want to be together? Why didn’t he just come to you after talking to Eddie? 

You tried to shake them off, tried to focus on the way Steve’s hands stuck to your body, like they belonged there, and the way his lips moved along yours, like it had always been this way.

You wanted to continue, wanted so badly to not let this moment go, but the bickering voices in your head were too much, and you pulled away slowly. Steve almost groaned when he felt the absence of your lips. He blinked once, twice.

“Oh, fuck. Do that again.” He unintentionally let out, gaze filled with lust as his pupils were blown wide, and a small giggle left your lips. “You are an idiot,” You whispered, your gaze settling on him. 

Was everything going to be okay?

How were you even going to manage to make this work? 

And with that, your expression soured, “Steve,” You said seriously, causing him to look up at you with concern all over his face. “I don’t want to get hurt again.” You murmured, forehead touching his.

“I won’t hurt you, ever.” His gaze was intense, and it made you feel giddy, worries washing away in seconds. You don’t know how he fucking did it, but it worked. 

And you trusted him like no one else. 

You couldn’t help it when your lips twitched into a smile. “You promise?” You gushed.

“With all my heart, honey.” He whispered, taking a deep breath. 

“You have no fuckin’ idea how long I’ve been waiting for this, dreaming about this...”

“I would never, ever do anything to hurt you.” He muttered, his hands tucking the strand of hair that was blocking him from placing messy kisses all over your face. 

“I couldn’t handle losing you, not again,” He murmured before leaning in to press more kisses all over your soft lips.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

bonus scene: just for shits n giggles idk

“What movies did you get today?” He asked with a childish grin on his lips.

“If you weren’t avoiding me, you would’ve known, pretty boy.” You exclaimed dramatically, crossing your arms against your chest.

Pretty boy.

The only thing that stuck in Steve’s brain was that he was your pretty boy.

And this giddy feeling inside of him was never going to go away, he decided.

He huffed playfully before he grabbed your bag, causing you to gasp. “Let’s see…” He murmured as he tried to find the VHS tapes.

“Aha!” He exclaimed as he grabbed the two of them, turning the cover to see what movies you rented. 

“Oh my god,” He murmured. “A double-feature? For us?” He couldn’t help the way his lips twitched into a smile, so warm that you wanted to bathe in the glory of making him this happy.

“Mhmm… First, Evil Dead II for me, and once Stevie gets scared, we’ll put on Dirty Dancing.” You give him a wink.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” He groaned. “You are so fucking perfect, I’m gonna lose my mind.” He placed a kiss on your forehead.

another a/n: so this is a bit messy bc i had too many ideas and this is the best i could do to fit them all in, i hope this doesn't feel that disconnected from the first!! work has been kicking my ass lately so my mind is all mushed lmao!! feel free to leave ur feedback and pls comment, like or reblog to support me ily <33

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Happy Anniversary?

Marlene's the first one to bring it up.

Remus is just sitting, trying to do his transfiguration homework in the common room when she pipes up.

"Hey, Remus, isn't your anniversary soon?" That's enough to draw his attention, head snapping up with a confused frown. "Any plans?"

"...anniversary?" He asks. Marlene looks at him like he's just spoken another language, or that he's magically turned into a brick wall.

"Yeah. Are you doing anything for it?"

"I have no clue what you're on about," he says simply, expecting that to be the end of that. However, a knowing smile finds its way onto Marlene's face, and she nods.

"Ah, right. I get it," she says with a wink, only befuddling Remus more.

Still, he doesn't think anyone else is going to bring it up.

As it turns out, everyone seems to think he has some big anniversary coming up. Lily congratulates him, Mary says she "always knew it was going to last forever", even Edgar Bones nudges him and whispers a quick "well done".

Somehow, and Remus has no clue how, he did something noteworthy a year ago. He's also completely unaware as to what. Nobody answers him when he asks, so he simply starts offering a polite smile and moving on with his day. There's some strange misunderstanding happening, and it'll probably blow over soon.

Probably.

It takes reaching the 'anniversary' date to figure out what the fuck is going on.

He's finally gotten some time with Sirius after he's been stuck in back-to-back detentions, walking down to the Black Lake together and just... chatting. It's really nice being able to spend time with Sirius outside of his classes again, even if it sends his stomach spinning and diving. As they talk, they pass Dorcas, who turns and calls to the two of them.

"Happy anniversary, guys!"

She's gone before they can ask any questions, leaving Remus with the same confused feeling as before. He opens his mouth to explain the situation to Sirius, only for Sirius to beat him to it.

"That's been happening all week," he says, puzzled, which stops Remus in his tracks.

"It has?"

He isn't walking anymore, and Sirius stops with him, elaborating with a frown.

"Yeah. Everyone's been going on and on about some anniversary. I don't know what-"

"They've been doing it to me too," Remus interjects quickly, almost under his breath. Sirius catches it though, eyes widening as he reaches the same conclusion as Remus has at the same bloody time.

It's them.

It's all about them.

All of the knowing glances, the congratulations, even the weird fucking winks. They all think Remus and Sirius are dating. Not only that, but they've thought that for a year? The thought sends too many emotions running through him. Shock, confusion and, oddly enough, bitterness. He's fallen asleep every night for months with Sirius on his mind. The thought of kissing him, being with him, belonging to him. He's spent too long biting back his confessions, the very obvious and frustrating fact that he's in love with Sirius Black, because he doesn't want to destroy their friendship, and his friends have just swooped in and made things so much more difficult!

"It's our fucking anniversary, isn't it?" Sirius says quietly, before glancing behind him. "Hold on," he says to Remus, turning right back around and going in the same direction Dorcas has just gone. He seems to involuntarily grab Remus' hand, Remus having no choice but to follow him helplessly.

They get to the Great Hall in time for lunch. Remus is a little pissed that everyone's weird obsession with their imaginary anniversary is interrupting the picnic they had planned.

"Guys." The two of them stop on front of the group, Sirius doing the talking, thank fuck. To be perfectly honest, Remus feels pretty speechless. "D'you lot think Remus and I are dating?"

"Yeah?" James says simply, wrinkling his nose like it's just a fact of life. "Everyone knows you're together."

"...we're not," Sirius says slowly, carefully, sending the group lapsing into silence, exchanging confused glances.

"Okay, that's doesn't make any sense," Lily says, everybody else nodding in agreement. "You're literally together all the time."

"Because we're friends," Sirius explains, and Remus really isn't sure what to say. Good thing he doesn't have to, because the back and forth doesn't stop.

"If Remus is in the hospital wing, you're there until Madame Pomfrey kicks you out," James offers.

"I care about him!" Sirius argues, but something about what James has said has hit him in a strange way, Remus hears the shift in his tone, feels the slight tightening of his grip on Remus' hand.

"You're holding hands right now," Mary says pointedly, and Sirius looks down at their connected hands like he had forgotten it had happened. Still, he has a reason for that one too.

"I hold everyone's hand."

He really doesn't want people to think he's dating Remus, does he?

"Not that much," Peter mumbles under his breath, and Remus almost wants to laugh.

"Sorry, does nobody find it strange that we've never kissed, then?" James shrugs.

"Not really. Figured you didn't like PDA."

"Okay, then... we've never called each other boyfriends, never been on a date-"

"Right, that one's just not true," Marlene says with a snort. Remus frowns, confused. Have they been on a date? Surely he'd know, right? "You go to Hogsmeade together all the time, you run off to 'study' every chance you get, and you're picnicking today."

"We're friends? Friends spend time together," Sirius says quickly, and Remus is really starting to struggle. He doesn't want to stand there while Sirius explains how ridiculous the concept of them dating is.

Instead of putting a stop to the conversation, Remus takes the coward's way out. He pulls his hand free from Sirius', turns, and walks away.

"Moony, wait-"

Remus pointedly ignores Sirius' call to him, aiming to get to the dorm and just wallow in self-pity for fifteen minutes. That way, he can act like he's fine and just go to the bloody picnic.

His hip, however, has other plans.

It twinges right as he reaches the stairs, forcing him to a halt with a sharp inhale. His hand involuntarily goes to the bannister at the bottom of the stairs, trying to get some of the weight off it. Unfortunately for him, it means Sirius catches up too quickly. To be honest, he hadn't even realised that Sirius was following him, but he arrives at his side in a matter of seconds.

"Moony, are you alright?" Remus lets his eyes sink shut for half a second, frustrated. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise they were upsetting you that much."

"It's not- it's just- it's nothing, I'm fine," Remus settles on, offering Sirius a tired smile.

"Moons, s'fine. I know how stupid you think it is." Sirius takes another step forward, acting as though he hasn't just confused the fuck out of Remus.

"What d'you mean? That's not why..." he trails off, not sure how to verbalise any of his thoughts without telling Sirius everything. Sirius fills it in for him, though.

"It's okay, really. You don't have to spare my feelings, or anything. I know you don't feel the same way," Sirius says with a shrug, sending Remus' mind reeling in a matter of seconds.

The same way.

The same fucking way?

Just like that, Remus is malfunctioning. Firstly, when the Hell did Sirius start liking him back? He's spent months having to reel in his own emotions, spending time with Sirius and accepting the sad reality that he's never going to be with him in a romantic way. Finally, just finally, he's started to come to terms with his own unrequited emotions, accept and embrace his friendship with Sirius, and they're not even bloody unrequited?

Also, when did they talk about it? How has Sirius come to the conclusion that Remus doesn't like him? Christ, Remus is fucking in love with him!

That's enough to spur Remus to talk.

"What?"

Okay, maybe he can't form full sentences right now, but he'll get there. Hopefully. Sirius just scrunches his nose up, confused.

"Moony, I get it, it's honestly okay. You don't like me, and didn't want to hear them all jumping to conclusions," He explains, and it only throws Remus more.

"No, that's not it," Remus says quickly, stunned that any words are coming out, even if they're pretty unhelpful words.

All he can do is look at Sirius. Beautiful, amazing, kind Sirius, who crushed his own feelings because he thought they were upsetting Remus. Merlin, he can't take it anymore. Clearly words aren't working for him right now, he has to try something else. Something that will express every single emotion that he has bottled up since he first went tripping and falling head over heels for his best friend.

His solution? Kiss the prat before he has a chance to second guess himself.

With that, he reaches out, grabs Sirius' jacket with one hand, pulls him in, and kisses him. At first, Sirius freezes, stunned, and Remus has an awful panic that he's gotten everything all wrong. Luckily for him, Sirius finally registers that Remus is kissing him and kisses him back.

It's...

Christ, it's everything Remus has ever imagined and more. It's like time stops as Remus' stomach swirls. Sirius' lips are soft against his, and his kiss is explorative, fucking mind blowing. He wraps his arms around Sirius' waist, feeling Sirius lean into the touch as he reaches out and cups Remus' cheek.

After what could be an hour, a few minutes, even a few seconds, just definitely not enough time, they both break away. Unfortunately, breathing exists, and Remus kind of needs to remember how to do that. Almost in unison, their foreheads press together, and Remus can feel a smile making its way onto his face.

"Well," Sirius starts, amused, "I guess this is our anniversary, then."

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 39 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, VIOLENCE, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

39. pool time  

You float in the pool, cooling off after a day of training. Not so much your body, as your head. 

John yelled at you earlier for not clearing a chamber jam fast enough for his liking–and you are tired of all of this. 

Mariko continues to kick the shit out of you every other day–but you are learning a lot, so you take it. Just when you think you might be earning her begrudging respect–she finds some new way to put you in your place–and on your face.

John drills you at the range and on the speed course, and you didn’t think you were doing too bad, until about an hour ago. But the slide stuck and the spring was tight and the checkered metal hurt your sore fingers and the guns are heavy…you’re over it.

You don’t even want to go to Argentina anymore. You just want to go home. 

The only one in the pool, you swim back and forth aimlessly, underwater and above, changing your strokes every few passes then floating again. 

This situation is wearing on John too. If they don’t show soon…you don’t know what he’s going to do. Something that will probably mean leaving you here, in safety, while he goes off to do what he does. 

Which according to Winston, is starting fires in the Underworld he doesn’t quite know how to put out, without killing everyone. 

The thought of him going on another rampage terrifies you. 

You sense the shadow of someone standing over you at the side of the pool. Expecting John, you right yourself in the water, looking up.

“I did not know the New York Continental boasted its own mermaid.”

So. Not. John.

You immediately sink again in the water, peering up at the newcomer with narrowed eyes. You’re not sure which clue put you on edge immediately: the wolfish way he looks down at you, his elegant yet flashy manner of dress–or his Italian accent. 

You say nothing in return, your heart in your throat. Somehow, you just know. 

“Allow me to introduce myself. Dante D’Antonio.” He squats down at the side of the pool, paying you a cruel little smile. A lock of his dark, curly hair falls down over his forehead; he’s handsome, but there is something missing in his hazel-green eyes as he stares you down. You’ll admit it. He scares the shit out of you. 

“Your fiancé killed my mother.” 

“Prepare to die?”

“What?”

“Sorry, I thought we were quoting The Princess Bride here.”

“What?” 

“It’s good that you’ve come, signor D’Antonio,” you say more carefully, kicking yourself for being a smartass in this world where everyone spoke carefully and in metaphor, because crossing the wrong person could literally mean losing your head. “My fiancé has been getting impatient.” 

“It was never his strong suit, so I’ve heard.” 

“And yet, you harass him. There are a lot of dead people who would tell you that’s not a smart move.” 

He waves you off with a flourish of his wrist. You are so tempted to splash him. “John Wick is an old man whose time has passed. It is a shame, he would involve a pretty little innocent like you in the crossfire.”

You glare at this man, sinking up to your nose in the water. What is he doing here, talking to you?

“D’Antonio.” 

John’s low voice draws you like a beacon. He stands at the other end of the pool, a dark pillar of death. The air positively crackles with tension, and then it dawns on you that this is d’Antonio’s purpose. Rile John Wick to the point of doing violence on Continental grounds, and make him sign his own death warrant.

Again.

You might have missed it once, but now you can see the bulge under John’s expertly tailored suit jacket. You know he’s wearing a loaded Glock on his hip, and that he could end this troublesome young man in about 1.5 seconds.

That would just be the beginning of your troubles. 

You remember what Winston cautioned you, about what John might do to a perceived threat of you. Fuck. 

“John…” you caution, swimming quickly for the ladder that is conveniently situated between the two men, intending to put yourself between them. Dread floods your system, as you fear you’ll be too late.  “Save it for the parlay,” you beg between strokes. 

If Dante d’Antonio was here, surely the others were on their way? It would be madness, otherwise, for the boy to show his face to John Wick?

“Yes, John. Don’t do anything rash,” taunts Dante with a smarmy grin, one hand stuffed casually in his waistcoat pocket.  

It all happens so fast. 

John rushes the kid, closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. 

Dante balks, clearly not having thought through his life choices, facing down the John Wick with no bodyguards and no weapon to his name. 

You don’t think John actually touches the young man, but Dante manages to stumble over his own Gucci-clad feet in his panic–into the pool, in that beautiful silk suit. 

You watch this transpire open mouthed, half-hoisted up on the ladder. 

John’s iron grip on your arm pulls you out the rest of the way from the pool, snatching your towel from a chair as the two of you power-walk out, draping your dripping form with the soft terry cloth as Dante d’Antonio hurls angry Italian expletives after your retreating forms. 

“Are you going to get into trouble for that?” you hiss, your teeth chattering from the temperature change and the adrenaline. 

“I didn’t even touch him,” defends John, bundling you into the elevator. “What a little bitch.”

You snort at that. You are weightless for a moment, as the elevator rises. 

“Go to the room,” John orders you at the fifth floor. 

“Where are you going?” You try not to sound like a scared little girl, certain you fail. You’re not mad anymore. Just anxious, and you realize, a bit excited. Finally, something is happening.

“To talk to Winston.” 

Of course. 

“Hurry back to me?” 

He presses his lips to yours, then gently nudges you towards the hall. “Always.”

[toomanythoughts2]

After thinking about fan artists drawing Murderface with curly hair, I've decided to also thank all of the fan artists that do the following (YOU ARE ALL RECIEVING KISSES IN THE MAIL, PLEASE BE PATIENT!):

People who draw Skwisgaar, Toki, or Nathan with their hair up in a claw clip or a ponytail. Especially Skwisgaar. You understand your power and you use it for love.

People who draw Toki and Nathan with fat, juicy tits pecs. You are doing the lords work and I love you.

People who draw Pickles with freckles. If the heavens saw the beauty that you bestowed onto our little midwestern Irish-American drummer, they would weep in joy.

People who draw the boys with detail eyelashes. I know what you are.

People who draw the boys with their HC-ed ethnics/races. (i.e. Nathan having Yaneemango features, Latino/Hispanic Murderface, Sámi Skwisgaar & Toki, very Irish Pickles.) The work that yall do is outstanding and I love to see it

SCARS! S.H. SCARS, TOP SURGERY SCARS, POSSESSION SCARS, POST-DSR & AOTD SCARS, TOKI'S CHILDHOOD SCARS! I'M FUCKING COMING FOR YOU! I LOVE YOU!

People who draw Murderface with distinctive clues that he is from the American South/Appalachians. I LOVE these HCs so much and I love the idea of him being from a very poor, southern town in America, it just fits him SO FUCKING WELL!

People who give Toki and Skwisgaar opposing eye shapes. I have seen them go both ways, and either one fits them so good. I am partial to downward turned eyes for Toki though, but either way, I eat it up every single time.

People who draw Murderface and Nathan as the fat men they are. Listen, it's a big girl winter every winter, but it's a big boy summer every summer. Ya gotta give the fat boys some love.

People who draw Skwisgaar in that damn speedo or in a bikini. He's got the confidence and you have the talent.

People who draw Toki in his roller skating outfit. Need I saw more?

People who draw one or more members of Dethklok as trans. I have yet to encounter a version of this HC/canon content that I do not love, adore, admire, respect, and obsess over.

People on tiktok that attempted to do a Metalocalypse version of the "Infected My Little Pony" trend. One of which where Nathan was the infected and the other where Toki was. Honestly, the artist that was doing the eldritch horror!Toki was fucking cooking. They had it where Murderface saw Toki in his true form and was terrorizing Murderface from keep him from revealing his secret.

People who draw Trindle. Listen, I understand Nathan. If I had a goth woman showing me her tits every second of every day, I too would look past the blatant psychopathic tendencies and mysterious disappearances.

People who are not afraid to make the boys look gross. You are all so fucking valid and your interpretations of the boys are so awesome to look at. Especially if it's a specific art style that is scratchy. LOVE!

People who draw Lady!Klok. Every single interpretation of what the boys would look like is so valid, whether they're cis or trans, their outfits and appearances are also so fucking spot on. And their HCs that are added on the side to explain how they're different from Dethklok is a fucking PLUS

People who draw Skwisgaar in lingerie. I want you to know, that I see you and I appreciate you in every single way.

People who draw Trans!Pickles content (NSFW & SFW) specifically. Yall were in the god damn trenches and you PREVAILED!

People who draw the boys with their interpretations of their nose shapes, ESPECIALLY MURDERFACE! HE'S GOT A BEAUTIFUL PUG NOSE, LET HIM HAVE IT! Double appreciate for Skwisgaar's beautifully crooked nose and Nathan's slanted nose. I love their faces so much and their noses and yall always know how to bring them to light.

People who draw Knubbler with no chin. Homeboy gave away his chin in order to accumulate all of the swagger he's got. He's a Mick Jagger type of guy.

People who draw Pickles dreads as independently floating tendrils like Medusas snakes. It is so perfect for him and it's so hard not to do it.

People who draw Pickles bald. Look...It's coming. He's just gonna have to own it.

People who draw Early!Klok ESPECIALLY TOKI! That fact that we don't have a lot of information about their past other than DSR is a SHAME! BUT ITS OK BECAUSE THE FANS KNOW WHAT TO DO AND THEY DO IT PREFECTLY EVERY TIME! Every time I see little DSR Toki with his short hair, I go fucking feral. I COULD BE A GOOD MOTHER!

People who draw the gore. The show would not exist without it, and some of yall are just cooking with the themes and context yall create. I am always so intrigued with what I will see next.

People who draw and make Dethklok lesbians. Of course Dethklok is lesbian. Why wouldn't they be?

People who draw the band in their "Dethfashion" clothes. WE NEEDED MORE TIME WITH THOSE OUTFITS! WE JUST DID!

People who have no clue how to draw a Fu Manchu. I had to look this up before I said anything but a Fu Manchu does not grow around the mouth, it's literally just hair from the top part of the mouth that continues to grow down. That's why in "Stare Down" Skwisgaar refers to Toki's mustache as an "extreme facial hairs". AND YET! I ADORE THE WAY SOME OF YALL DRAW IT, ITS VERY ATTRACTIVE AND CUTE!

People who draw the band members in their animal forms. YOU CAN TAKE THESE ANIMAL FORMS FROM MY COLD DEAD HANDS! PICKLES THE OCTOPUS IS SO SPECIAL TO ME, ESPECIALLY AFTER "Dethmom"! AND THE BUNNY/RABBIT SYMOLISM FOR TOKI AND WITH HIM BEING THE ANGEL OF DEATH, ITS SO GOD DAMN IMPORTANT!

People who draw Agere!Toki. Canon age regression is so rare and to have Toki being a canon and explicit example of an age regressor throughout the entire show is so special to me. JUST LET THE BOY REST!

People who draw Abigail. She's a girl boss. She's the moment. I will NOT tolerate hate on my woman, she did not deserve the shit she got.

People who draw Deaddy Bear. I want one so badly, it's not a joke.

People who draw Toki in skirts/dresses. One particular art work with Toki is in a long bohemian skirt and a band tee with a scarf is my all time favorite example of it.

The person who created Lasagna, Pickle's daughter, and then made her a bassist. I eat your shit up every single time I see new stuff from that AU.

People who draw the boys with more piercings. Especially the angel bites on Toki, the middle of the lip piercing for Murderface, and the gauges on Nathan and Skwisgaar.

People who draw Pickles during his Snakes N' Barrels era. THE HIGHER THE HAIR THE CLOSER TO GOD YOU ARE! AND PICKLES WAS CLIMBING THAT LADDER EVERY NIGHT!

People who draw Pickles pubes in the shape of his goatee like in "Rehabklok". That's one of the funniest visual gags in the entire show, I won't hear another word about it.

People who draw Charles. Every single one of you are invited to my Charles Offdensen themed birthday party.

People who give Toki the longest hair length but give Skwisgaar the most definition. Also, when they remember Nathan's little hair wisp in his face. Skwisgaar has the waves and Toki is afraid to getting a hair cut.

PEOPLE WHO DRAW GODKLOK! GOATED AS FUCK! THE COOLEST FUCKING PEOPLE EVER! I AM FOREVER IN YOUR DEBT! EVERY SINGLE ITERATION IS SO FUCKING GOOD!

People who draw Top/Dom!Toki. LISTEN HE'S A SADIST, HE JUST GETS NERVOUS! IF YOU GIVE HIM TIME, HE CAN PROVE TO BE GREAT!

People who draw Nathan as the bottom. You understand what this man needs and it's to get railed.

People who draw the boys in jeans. Listen. This one is really niche but for whatever reason, this fandom puts these boys in a pair or jeans and they are looking as fine a fucking WINE!

People who draw the cowboy Dethklok fan art. What is it like wielding the power that you have?

That's all that I think of at the moment, but I really do appreciate all of the different kinds of fan artists this fandom has. There is some absolutely beautiful pieces in this fandom.

[hoe4healy]

☆The 1975☆

Writing a one shot for every song based off the lyrics enjoy you slags xx

tags: 18+, choking, cum play, mild fingering, dry humping, idk what else its just freaky that's it

W/C no fucking clue

The time hits 12:00 on the car stereo, music is playing softly from the radio as you turn your head in the foggy car, and the smell of weed fills your nose like a wave as you witness the same boy you used to play tag with now smoking a spliff in a used and damaged Corvette that he bought on sale. Your head heavy as you rest it on the car seat headrest, your body tilted slightly to face him—his dark curls perfectly shaping his face, half-lidded eyes, and shirt opened just enough to see the tattoo on his chest—what a sight for sore eyes. Your eyesight is fuzzy from the smoke, and you don't realise he's unintentionally facing you, the joint hanging loosely from his cherry-red lips and his hand resting on your thighs.

"You like what you see, love," he says in a slightly raspy voice with a British accent, sending chills down your spine as you acknowledge that maybe you do. You shrug and turn to face the window, but he knows that a single touch could break you, so he rests his calloused fingers against your chin and turns your head to face him. He smirks as he pulls the joint from his lips and inserts it between yours. "Eyes on me, love," he asserts.

"Now you gotta tell me whats going on in that mind of yours...you've never been this quiet in your whole life" Matty tilts his head towards you, his gaze meeting yours as he taps his finger on your forehead, lifting his brow in curiosity. "Cat got your tongue sweetheart?" He asks, his voice low and rough now, eye contact not breaking, while you shake your head 'no' finally getting your thoughts together."What makes you think I'd actually tell you what I'm thinking...Healy?" You sneer at him playfully, knowing full well that you've told him each and every thought you've ever had. "Because I'm asking nicely, so will ya?" He pouts at you, his doe eyes begging, the cannabis having turned his eyes red and glossy.  "What do I get in return?" You enquire, sliding in closer to him, lips barely brushing against each other as the smell of cheap cologne and cigarettes hits, the car gear pressing into your side as you wait for his response taking a long drag of the joint blowing the smoke out softly as you pass it back to him in one swift motion.

"I can make those thoughts into reality, love," he winks, unable to say it with a straight face , laughing as he pulls away, a smile growing on his lips as he looks at you, throwing the joint into the ashtray. Matty hums to the music as he says smoothly, "What do you want, love?" Tilting his head down, his breath fanning across your lips, his hand glides to the nape of your neck as he draws you closer, his lips meeting yours, the taste of weed filling your mouth, his hand now in your hair, tugging slightly as he holds your head in place. "You know I'd do whatever you asked, right? love" You nod against his lips as he places the palm of your hand on his chest, directly over his tattoo, his heart beating steadily beneath your touch. "Uh-uh, none of that love, you gotta use your words," he said softly but firmly leaving no room for silence, forcing you to wrap your thighs around his left hand.

"Want you" You blurt out, your eyes widening as you grasp what you just uttered, "Want me?" Matty repeats, a slow, playful smile creeping over his face. His eyes brighten with amusement and desire. He leans in close again, his nose brushing against yours. "Want me how?, sweetheart," he says softly, sending thrills down your spine. "Anyway, you want." You add the weed, causing you to lose all track of thought, making you blurt out whatever comes to mind as you bite down on your bottom lip. "Mmm, anyway I want, huh?" Matty chuckles smoothly in disbelief, his free hand reaching up to gently tug on your bottom lip, releasing it from between your teeth. He pulls back slightly, his eyes scanning your face, drinking in your flushed cheeks and glazed over eyes.

He wraps his hands around your waist and lifts you onto his lap in one swift motion as if you weighed nothing. He gives a gentle grunt as you are hoisted onto his lap. His arms instinctively wrap around your waist, supporting your weight. He places you securely on his lap, his face buried in your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your hair. "Fuck, you smell so good, love."

"I wore the perfume you like." You whisper into his ear, casually placing your arms around his neck and looking down at him teasingly. Matty's arms tighten around your waist, possessively. "You did, did you?" He breathes against your neck as he pulls away to stare at you, his voice low and sultry, and his hands begin to roam over your back, his touch light yet firm, causing you to slowly move your hips against his. "For me, love?" he states. "Only for you." You exhale out quietly at the sight of him beneath you, causing your mind to race with ideas, unaware that your hips are now grinding into him more desperately. Matty's hands immediately sink to your backside, limiting your movement. "Sweetheart, your killin' me here," he replies, his voice strained. His face contorts with ecstasy as you push against him, and his breathing hitches as he sucks in his air.

"You want me to stop?" You ask teasingly, knowing that the response is unavoidably no. "Don't you dare..." Matty says gruffly, gripping your backside. His head tilts back slightly, revealing his Adam's apple, as he swallows deeply, his eyelids fluttering closed. "Thats what I thought." You whimper against the crook of his neck, your body trembling in pleasure as your hands reach for his hair, tugging his head back even farther, causing him to gasp. Matty's grasp on you tightens, his fingers piercing into your soft flesh as you press against him. His head falls back even further, resting on the headrest, and his entire body tenses up as he lets out a deep gutteral moan. "Love..." he exhales, barely audible.

"Mhm," you hum, lifting your head. Matty's gaze snaps to meet yours, his eyes wild and urgent. He looks at you as if he is starving and needs you to breathe. His lips parted slightly, releasing a small whimper, and his hands remain on your hips. You lower your hand down between you, palming at the boner that is now straining against his trousers as you kiss down his jawline. Matty's body shudders as you touch him, and his breath catches in his throat. He gives out a small gasp as you kiss along his jaw, his grip on you tightening as if he is terrified you will disappear if he lets go. "Fuck..love," he exhales, his voice trembling "please" he gasps out.

"please what?" You demanded, biting down on his neck and pausing to await a response. Matty's hips buck upward, seeking friction. "More," he asks, his voice husky. His hands glide inside your shirt, tugging it up and over your head before tossing it away. "Touch me, love...please," the "please," sounding even more frantic than before, his fingers splayed across your naked back. "Healy, c'mon now use your words...more of what?" You say, teasingly pouting innocently at him as you repeat what he said to you only 10 minutes before. Matty swallows deeply, his Adam's apple bobbing. He looks up at you, his eyes pleading for relief. "More of your hands, more of your mouth, god... more of you under me, over me, around me." He rasps, and you smile to yourself, understanding you've broken the guy who once wielded all of your power.

"Well, if you put it that way, I'm all yours." You utter into his ear. Matty lets out a choking cry, his hands grabbing your thigh securely as he draws you back in for a crushing kiss, taking up your mouth and so you breathe through your nose. He pulls away, his chest heaving. You pull him back in roughly by his collar, moaning against his lips, your hands quivering as you fidget with his jeans' zip. Matty's hips rise from the car seat as you slide the pants down, his breath hitching and washing over your skin. "Keep going...", he states "yes sir" you let out a breathy moan as you lift up your skirt so its wrapped around your waist, Matty's eyes darken as you lift up your skirt, his thumb brushing against your inner thigh now "I want you now" he pants, his face flushed."Then take me," you respond desperately yet sternly,gasping out quietly, your head falling back in pleasure as he pushes himself into you, feeling the way you clench around him, causing him to let out loud moans, pulling your hair back forcefully as he crashes into you and kisses your collarbone. "Fuck your so tight," he murmurs against your exposed flesh.

Matty sees stars as he feels your tight pussy clenching around his dick.He fucks you with reckless abandon, his hips crashing against yours as you roll your hips into him with with a brutal force. His hands reach up to wrap around your throat, gently squeezing as he pounds into you. "Look at me." You nod obediently, your vision blurred from the choking, and you let out stuttered gasps while pressing your nails into his shoulders. Matty's face contorts with pleasure as you look down at him, his hips thrusting upwards in a steady beat. "That's it... cum for me baby," he groans as he feels your orgasm building up, thrusting into you erratically as he feels his own release barreling down on him, his hands tightening around your neck desperatly.

With one final moan, your orgasm rushes over you, causing your legs to twitch and shiver with pleasure as your nails begin to draw blood on his naked skin, become onto his chest. The car is now humid and uncomfortably heated as you regain your breath against his skin, your hips continuing to rock against him in jolts as you ride out your high. With one final thrust, Matty achieves his own release, burying his face in the crook of your neck to mask his groans, the vibrations sending adrenaline down your spine. His arms wrap firmly around you, drawing you closer and wanting to jump into your bones, because no matter how close he gets, it isn't enough.As he spills into you, he pants heavily, his body quivering beneath you as you feel his dick go limp inside of you.

"Fuck," you giggle softly as the high subsides and you find the strength to pry yourself off of him, tucking a strand of one of his curls behind his ear and leaving a soft kiss on his cheek. Smiling down at him, your thumb running across his bottom lip that has gotten swollen from the forceful kisses, feeling his dick slip out of you, it's swiftly replaced with his finger gasping out from the sensitivity as you realise he's smirking up at you. "Don't wanna waste a drop, love," he winks at you, slipping back your panties on and fixing your skirt and adjusting himself as you climb back into the passenger seat."Right, love, let me drive you home," he says tenderly, turning to face you and kissing you one final time before he begins driving. "I'm never smoking with you again," you declare choking back laughter as you pull down the window to get some fresh air. "That's what they all say sweetheart" He nudges you playfully as he drives through the streets car lights flashing past yous.

If anyone of yous steal my idea its on sight x

[mncxbe]

Life love is beautiful but you don't have a clue

𝑨𝒌𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎! 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff/ if you squint there's some itty bitty angst

The little piece of charcoal in your hand glided along the paper with a soft scratchy sound leaving dark, cloudy lines in its wake. With each stroke the portray of the man beside you came to life.

Akutagawa was still asleep, one of the few times when he was completely at peace; the thin line between his brows melted away along with the slight downward tug of his lips and the tension in his jaw- signs of his perpetual annoyance and displeasure. You couldn't deny the charm of his moody personality, but you liked him better like this.

Your gaze drifted to the bedroom window, eyes musing on the cotton pink colours of the sunrise. You could already hear Akutagawa complain about the weather "Can't I just get a break from all this sun. It's July for fuck's sake it's supposed to be raining." Indeed, he was like a little vampire, hiding away from the sun as if it were a plague; he always said he got sunburnt easily but you knew it wasn't the only reason.

Just as you started drawing again your boyfriend's eyes fluttered open. "What ya doing there?" he mumbled sleepily, his voice carrying that morning hoarseness you so adored.

Sheepishly, you showed him the sketchbook only to earn a displeased groan from him "Didn't I tell you to stop drawing me when I sleep? It's... embarassing. Not to mention the mess you make in bed. You're staining all the sheets"

"But you look so pretty like this baby" you cooed, earning a huff from him. His eyes shot daggers as he grabbed your sketchbook and placed it on his nightstand.

"Aye Ryuu don't be like this" you whined but he paid no mind to your pleas, simply dropping his head on the pillows again.

"I'm tired, Y/N, and really not in the mood to have this talk again"

His eyes were closed so luckily he couldn't see you exasperated eye roll. Sliding your bare legs from underneath you you leaned towards him, cupping his face with your charcoal stained hands. Akutagawa's eyes immediately shot open but before he had the chance to protest you pulled him into a kiss, succesfully shutting him up. Why did he always have to be so complicated?

He eventually returned the kiss, letting out a soft moan when you hooked your thigh around his waist, shifting closer to him. His fingers slid up your thigh, making their way to your ass to give it a light squeeze.

He nipped at your bottom lip before parting his lips from yours, looking down at you with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes "You really think a kiss is going to make things better?"

Chuckling, you booped his nose "Of course, there's nothing a little loving can't fix"

Akutagawa didn't respond, simply turning away from you. It wasn't rare for him to shut you out like this; to give you the cold shoulder whenever you tried to show him the tiniest bit of affection. But despite being used to it, it still hurt. You slid your fingertips along his shoulderblade, whispering softly "Why do you have to be so cold, Ryuu?"

Akutagawa tensed under your touch, his breath catching in his throat. He could already picture the stupid lines you were tracing on his back, using his skin as your personal canvas. Frankly, your habit of drawing him was irritating him beyond belief. Your sketches showed him in the most mundane and vulnerable states: sleeping, reading on the couch with a cup of his favourite herbal tea by his side, lounging under a willow tree in the park the two of you liked to visit before sunset and the thought of it made his stomach churn. This is not the Akutagawa he wanted to be perceived and rememberd as; not a ruthless, powerful assassin but a lovesick young man.

But how could he be stay mad at you when you held him so lovingly in your arms, whispering sweet nonsense against his skin as your lips slid over his neck and shoulder, buying his forgiveness with saccharine affections? Your words spilled from your lips and poured right into his heart, making the mighty wall he built around it crumble.

No, he couldn't stay mad at you. Sighing, he turned to face you, resting his hand on your hip. You couldn't help but chuckle upon seeing his features: cheeks smeared with graphite, a singular dot on his nose. If you looked close enough you could see the ridges of your fingertips on the imprint.

Akutagawa arched a brow, his thumb drawing soft circles on your hipbone "And what's so funny?"

"You look like a panda" you cooed, your laughter bouncing off the walls of your bedroom "I wish you could see how pretty you are?"

"Don't call me pretty" he huffed, trying to hide the blush that tinted his cheeks. But you knew the effect your words had on him.

Cradling his face in your hands again you leaned in, smothering his face with kissed "You, Akutagawa Ryūnosuke, are the prettiest guy I've ever dated, the sweetest and kindest man and I love you even when you're grumpy"

The man couldn't help but cringe out your words, letting out a choked laughter. He mumbled a you're killing me under his breath but made no attempt to stop you. If anything, he closed his eyes, leaning into your touch.

When you eventually let go of his face he opened his eyes, grabbing the sketchbook and hanging it to you "It's very well done love. But I think you could add some colour to it"

"Would you like that?" you asked sweetly, already reaching for your charcoal kit.

"Yes, I think I'd like that."

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

babe, first of all, I hope you doing well 🥰 and second, but not least important, i'll do love if write some toxic fluffy whith jack, where, after a argument, she hurts or puts herself in dangerous just to get revenge, but nothing really serius happens to her, they reconizing they're not in a helth reletionship, but they gonna try to be better for eachother, you also can add some smut if you like, but this is not part of the request. hope you liked the idea, but if you don't, let me know

xoxo

My dearest anon...this is a lot of things but not exactly fluffy and I'm sorry if I went too hard on it but toxic Jack Thurlow had me short circuiting 😵‍💫😵‍💫

The Pain Remains

Summary: This time you really lost the plot for good and now all you can do is to clean up your act.

Pairing: Jack Thurlow x fem!Reader

Word Count: ~1.6k

Content Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! 18+!, Grim Dark Smut, Active Self Harm, Jealousy, Borderline Very Toxic Relationship, Two Idiots In Love Trying To Do Better, It's Very Mentally Ill In Here, Mutual Substance Abuse, Very Shitty Coping Mechanisms, Strong Hints Towards Sex Addiction, Mentions Of Public Sex, Angsty As Fuck, Positive Ending, Tho 🙆🏻‍♀️!

A/N: I know, this is a rather heavy one and if anyone of you feels the need to talk to someone: My DMs are always open. Don't hesitate to reach out!🖤

Tagging The Squad:

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-luvr @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @roryculkinsbf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @b4sementgrl @blueberrypancakesworld

If the past is just dust

Then the future could be our dream

If all we have is now, this eternity

Ignite my satisfaction, engulf me

- The Pain Remains I By Lorna Shore

Before you even really woke up, you were forced to acknowledge the raging hangover headache in your head. With eyes closed shut, you turned to the side, your hand haphazardly roaming over the silhouette of Jack's body, looking for a glimpse of comforting body heat or just anything to get your racing mind to shut up for a second.

How did you get into bed? At what time did you fall onto the mattress next to him?

You had no clue about any of that as you pressed your body against his back, the pungent aftertaste of cheap rum still lingering heavily on your tongue.

"Fucking hell…" You groaned into the nape of his neck, your nose buried deep in his curly, brown hair and yet you could still smell the remnants of last night's pot extravaganza all throughout the bedroom.

What in the everloving fuck had the two of you been up to last night? With relentlessly firing synapses and painfully overdriven neurons you searched your mind for answers, a flicker of a memory, at this point anything, really.

You couldn't help yourself but to let your face contort into various tortured grimaces as the rest of your body slowly came to. Your stomach felt horribly fucked and in dire need for something solid, although the mere thought of food alone had you nearly gagging. No, you needed something else to take the edge off before you even so much as got out of bed.

Whilst inhaling deep, unsteady breaths, you soaked in the calming smell of Jack's body; a mixture of pheromone-loaded sweat, musky deodorant and soft hints of vanilla coke.

Vanilla coke spiked with cheap rum. Your stomach dropped and turned in every possible direction at the reminder. Nearly every weekend played out in the same shit show again and again: Booze to kill the anxiety, weed to elevate your spirit and nearly deranged amounts of sex to eradicate and simply drown out every last painful sentiment that could possibly be felt.

On that notion your lips curled up into a crooked smile whilst your reader fingertips grazed down your boyfriends gently rising and falling again chest, gingerly drawing a circle or two around his navel before eventually tapping down to the waistband of his black and gray checkered shorts, a throbbing case of morning wood straining against the fabric already. Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth in a low gasp, you simply indulged yourself and allowed your hand to slip right past the waistband, fingers wrapping themselves around Jack's girth tenderly.

"Goddamn minx!" Jack hissed into the darkened bedroom and involuntarily jutted his hips against your hand.

"Want me to stop?" You whispered into the soft skin of his shoulder before biting down on it teasingly.

"No, please.", His voice was raspy enough to give you a broad idea about how much the two of you must've smoked last night, "I'm equal parts hungover and horny as fuck."

"Yeah, I thought so." You snickered while you started fisting his cock, generously smearing the pre-cum all over the sensitive tip to not stroke him sore with a dry palm.

"You're a fucking menace, you know that?" Jack stuttered, choking back a breathy moan while rocking is lap in quick rolls, practically fucking himself into your grip.

"Says the lunatic who'll take every and any given chance to fumble me in public? Finger fucking me in the cinema, really?" With a mischievous grin spreading all across your face, you fondly remembered that happening a few days ago.

"C'mon, you enjoyed that, cumming all over the seat like you did." Jack shot right back at you.

"Fair enough." You agreed, tightening the grip around his hard on slightly to drag a shaky sigh from his lips.

"Fuck, you know I can't last long that early into the day." Jack practically whined out, his hips thrusting harshly against your hand while you jerked him off.

"Oh, poor, little Jack." Your playfully mocking voice got lost in the glossy curls of his hair as you felt his entire body turning stiff against your torso.

"Say that again… please!" Jack was clearly about to come undone, needing that little push of humiliation to push past the threshold.

"Oh, you sick fuck.", You sneered into his ear, the tip of your nose hardly touching its shell, "Poor, little Jack Thurlow creaming his boxers just after a few minutes already, huh?"

"Good god, fuck, you're so mean!" It cascaded out of his mouth in a guttural moan as he rutted against your hand in a few last, shaky thrusts before white-hot ropes of cum ruined his boxers and your hand alike.

The milky fluid spouted all over your fingers and eventually down your wrist, causing a very sudden, sharp pinch of simmering pain.

"What the hell?!" You hissed and withdrew your hands from Jack's crotch, raising it up for the both of you to stare right at the scene of the crime.

"What…" Jack mumbled under his breath, his eyes going wide in shock.

Thin yet vigorous cuts thrown all over your wrist, bright red with inflammation and laced with a milky layer of Jack's cum, laughing right in your face about the current state of your mental health.

"What…no…NO!" Your voice flailed and trembled as you stared at your wrist with thrashing disbelief.

"I was clean for a year! This…this isn't happening, no!" A dull pang of pain shot right through your dehydrated head as you basically jumped off the mattress and stumbled towards the bathroom, nearly tripping over scattered clothing and a glass bong.

Unbridled waves of shame and disgusting rippled through your system as a supernova of blacked-out memories decided to implode inside your head. You'd been pissed last night, even furious with Jack about something…yeah..fuck..a call. Was it call? Yeah, of course, a call from is ex-fiancé Cleo, that fucking cunt. Dumped him because she couldn't handle Jack the way you could and now trying to patch things up again. Stupid twat.

"Hey, wait!" You heard Jack calling out to you from behind, coming right after you.

Your out of control body fell against the door frame of the bathroom as you hurried towards the sink, yanking at the faucet for icy cold water to cascade over your violated wrist. It stung and you winced at the sharp pain.

"Are you okay? What the hell happened!?" Jack huffed, only stopping in steps as he was right behind you, making his presence known by cupping your jittery frame with his body, his chin resting on your shoulder as his slender hands wrapped themselves around yours under the running faucet.

His thumb ghosted over the cuts, gently washing himself off of your sore skin.

"Obviously not, asshole!" It shot right out of you and you regretted it immediately.

"Hey, watch that mouth! Right now is not the time for that." He mumbled into the crook of your neck.

"Fuck, sorry… I really lost the plot this time, huh?" Your voice was but a meak whimper.

"Maybe, but I got you. This is a temporary setback, yes, but not the end of the world, you hear me?" His tone rendered soft as he tried to calm you down.

"The cuts are shallow and if we take good care of them they'll heal without leaving a single scar. It'll be okay, yeah?" By now the water numbed your wrist out to the point that you didn't feel his thumb wiping you clean anymore.

"Uh-huh…I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry for being such a fucking psycho, Jack." The shame and self-loathing doubled down on you, dragging you into an inevitable breakdown.

"Stop that right there! You're not a psycho and I don't love you any less, you understand?", He pressed himself to you as impossibly close as he could, "A little slip up like that won't scare me. I'll go through that hell right here with you, I promise. I'll never go anywhere and just leave you like that."

Everything inside of you came falling down, every painful emotion amped up by the raging hangover that ruled over your shaking muscles and you just let yourself fall against Jack in eventual defeat.

"I got you and we'll handle that together!"

[prongsfish]

*blinks* headcanons *blinks*

okay. i am almost a month late to this ask hi @ethanmilo ... sorry about that... and i will be using it to give the barty hcs you asked for over a month before this but the ask expired... sorry about that again... my bad time is scary

but yes barty headcanons. these may end up leaning into bartylus territory because i am So obsessed with them right now but i have no idea what i'm going to write yet so we'll see HAHA

(jumping back here after writing this, most of these are lighthearted but some do get a bit more serious/dark, nothing out of character for what you see scrolling on maraurders tumblr but i just don't want people to be shocked by the tone shift)

he doesn't take day-to-day school life seriously and fucks around in most of the classes he doesn't skip altogether BUT his competitiveness is not to be underestimated. he's barely in class and he never pays attention but he gets away with it because he's so smart that when he started school he was already suuper advanced. he just kept working on his own and so was always way ahead of whatever he was supposed to be learning, so he's super annoying and disruptive during classes but when it comes time to it he's still at the top of all his classes. he and reg are always warring for the number one spot and they're a nightmare to be around during exams because they are SO competitive

he'd give himself those shitty stick and poke tattoos at like age fourteen, if you've seen the videos of kids on tiktok with the ugliest shoddiest tattoos you've ever seen you know what i mean... i just found this image on pinterest and this is Exactly the sort of shit he'd have. i think he'd have always been constantly drawing on his work and skin with a quill/pen and he does not fear permanence. the moment he found a way to give himself tattoos he was doing it.

the absolute biggest shit stirrer you've ever met, everything he does is always in the hopes of pissing someone off. he will lie, he will argue, he will push and shove his way into a confrontation and when someone eventually breaks his nose he just starts laughing

he knows Everyone. he has connections to everyone in whatever city he's in, he constantly "knows a guy" and every time it's the most absurd story that his friends have never heard a single word of but it's 100% true. his lore is infinite. and people expect it to be limited to just where he lives but no, he could go to a whole new country and still be being stopped every 5 minutes by some old friend who's thrilled to see him

related to the above, he is that Coolest Fucking uncle. he's awful with kids but god damn it if he doesn't have the most legendary stories to tell luna as often as she could ever want!!

he knows a shit ton of languages. he started learning them because he was bored and it eventually it just became a Thing and he's fluent in like 4 or 5 but can hold a decent conversation in upwards of 10 others too

he looks like he smells bad. he wouldn't smell bad when he was younger, still too used to certain privileges of his class, but the further he strayed from his father and family, especially into young adulthood, i think he would start to—unless regulus was in his life, in which case he'd better smell like fucking roses if he ever wanted to be seen anywhere even Near him in public

i heavily associate him with nu metal and post industrial music but i also think that when he was younger he would've been suuper into all those whiny indie rock bands that normal people call midwest emo, music nerds crucify you for calling midwest emo, and i have no clue what to call. he'd totally have his own band inspired by them too, and he totally has the voice for it—the voice that's objectively terrible but works perfectly for that style of music

he doesn't talk about how he feels like ever but those close to him have worked out ways to get him what he needs when he needs it. he refuses to ask for help but his friends know him well enough that they don't need him to ask, they can pick up his question in far fewer words, and even though it's still hard for him to even imply that he needs help it's a lot easier when he can talk around the issue rather than having to actually using his words. his friends know that it'd be better if he Did use his words but they also know that if they tried to stop letting him get away with not asking properly he'd just stop trying to ask at all

his favourite film genres are horror and action, the gorier the better. he loooooves all the saw films

he's super messy, his room is a fucking NIGHTMARE. shit EVERYWHERE. clothes strewn all around, dishes stacked in several tall piles, three different rubbish bins that are each around 70% full from the times he's been forced to "clean up" and eventually gotten bored/distracted. regulus despises it and refuses to go anywhere near his room meanwhile evan is so excited because every time he goes into barty's room he discovers a new species of mould. sometimes when he's really lucky barty will kick over a pile of clothes to find something and like eight cockroaches scurry out (evan immediately rushes to grab as many of them as possible before they disappear and then takes them home)

by the time he was a preteen he'd given up on the idea that his father would ever be proud of him, had flipped to doing everything in his power to anger him further, entirely stopped caring about the consequences because if his father would hate him no matter what he did why not make it reflect badly back on him, since he cared so much about his public image as a politician. he never intended to leave though, because he couldn't bear the thought of leaving his mother with him. that was until he pushed too far with his dad, got too sucked into the lifestyles of others who'd given up just like him, fell too deeply into the depression and the anger and the violence, until he crossed a line and his mother was looking at him like she was disappointed, too. he realised that he was trying so hard to stay for his mother but staying was making him a worse person and it wasn't worth it anymore if she could no longer see what he was doing as a sacrifice, and only as surface level "badness". he hated leaving his mother more than he hated his dad but in the end staying was only making things worse for the both of them

he uses humour and stupidity as a defence mechanism, and while he does find it fun to do ridiculous and reckless things he also does it because it gives him a role to fill. he can't stand being genuine because he's terrified of rejection, so he'd rather lean into all the superficial judgements made about him. if when someone shuffles away from him in public transport he bares his teeth at them and when someone expects him to be stupid he purposefully misunderstands a simple concept, then nobody actually knows him and nobody can hurt him in a way that matters. the person they insult isn't actually him so they can't possibly get to him

he is VERY judgemental and he and regulus can spend hours talking shit about anyone from lifelong classmates to complete strangers. it surprises everyone that he actually gets along with remus really well, but it's because remus has a more judge-y side that he hides when with anyone but regulus and, apparently, barty

he and dorcas are the gay man and lesbian best friends duo and people have probably mistaken them as a couple before, which they'd both be mortified by. "have they seen us?!?!"

okay i'm forcing myself to end it there because i have an essay draft to finish and a substantial amount of french homework to do in the next like 4-5 hours (nobody is allowed to say shit about my sleep schedule i don't want to hear it HAHAHA) and i've already been writing this for WELL over an hour so i really should stop giving myself ways to procrastinate, i hope these were enough to make up even slightly for the very long wait <//3 ah barty crouch jr, the one and only love of my life... i would be utterly terrified of you in real life but i would also be very attracted to you from a safe distance which is basically the highest form of compliment i can possibly give a person

[sharonisthebettercarter]

we need to talk about common comic opinion for the boys

so i read the comics.

was curious for a while, buddies wanted to do it, finally bit the bullet and MAN OH MAN~<3

there's common opinion that swirls around from people who *have not read the comics* need i remind, an opinion that they are merely *meaningless edgelord drivel* or the like.

i'm here to bust that misconception, smack it upside the head and drag it around the fuckin' town and kick it till it's caved in because it couldn't be more *wrong* if it tried.

first thing i'll say is that the comics *don't* compare in what you'd call 'gratuitous edginess' to the show. while they have their 'bit on the nose moments', they're drawings that go panel by panel. even what they *could* show wouldn't compare, and it honestly doesn't. (coming from someone who's also watched the show too many times over now and got a nice fresh read in)

robin's death is more brutal *in the show*. there is more blood and gore. *in the show*. the arguably edgiest thing between both of them is a guy exploding another guy from inside his urethra, which *only happens in the show*

and for those that have no clue about the big twist or comics homie and try to make blocks of analysis for a character they have zero actual information or decent research on.

homelander is worse. *in the SHOW*.

granted, both have similar enough structure with reversed character development/reveal, but i digress

butcher is just THE biggest fucking bottom by the way, lord satan i CAN NOT with that boi--

anywho~<3

the 'meaningless' part? well that's just a big fat lie and i'll say it up front. that shit needs to stop. this thing was definitely an emotional rollercoaster, and while it may be true that it's not for everyone, it was far from meaningless and actually brilliantly written and even researched.

it's raw, it feels real half the time, it teaches valuable lessons, and even when you're in the notion of 'okay, where is this going, it's sus', when you stick with it? you get rewarded fucking beautifully.

there are moments you'd disagree with the characters actions in a way that makes them feel humanly flawed. of course they might do the wrong thing or say the wrong thing, so do real life humans?? there are cross cultural miscommunication references and conversations that show ennis knew what he was doing and why he did it a certain way. and yeah, it can be too much to handle for some,

*but if you honestly feel that way you shouldn't be watching the show either*

and here's what it's not.

meaningless, ill-thought, pointless, edgelord drivel.

it *is* an intricate and well done, brutally *honest* creative critique of the *military industrial complex*, *corporate capitalism*, and a couple other things expertly squeezed in. even touching on *abuse* and hitting all the right spots for how it can psychologically fuck with people. the ending punches you in the fucking feels as you could appropriately expect it to with a hard side of begrudged satisfaction.

good fucking satan these things were an excellent read that compelled me to want moar from start to finish, and yeah, if you have watched the show then i *highly* recommend them because the important topics and themes touched on are presented much better in the comic, even with the sometimes wonky ass art in place of hawt actors to distract you, lmao

but seriously? the lot of you that keep spouting nonsense from your clenched up assholes without actually bothering to look at the source material need to stop. all you're doin' is actin' damn fools and showing off high and mighty opinions based on complete mis-education if not un-education.

and f.y.i.... also being the damn fools both the comics AND show make fun of.

so remember that line billy says?

'but the main reason you don't hear about it is cause the public don't want to know about it.'

that's y'all. legit, at this point. more specifically, y'all would be the 'public' that wants to live with rose tinted glasses instead of acknowledging that reality is more brutal than we often want to see or admit.

why else would you keep denouncing and dismissing the comics and source material of something you allegedly love?

because some other schmuck on the internet said a lie, gave you hearsay, or a rumor they heard through a grapevine on a game of telephone that said it wasn't worth looking into yourself?

well i'll call bullshit on that straight up but what are y'all so afraid of??

couple other things i will say, if you hate butcher for being the biggest worldclass cunt, you will absolutely feel vindicated and have your feelings or possibly lovehate boner (like mine~) completely validated with what happens in these comics (and if i'm being honest about the direction of the show, weeeeelllll...~<3 lemme not tho lmao<3 still def the biggest bottom, out bottoms hughie by far, i wanna see him get railed by vas/love sausage)

i will also say, billy is 100% wrong in the comic and the show is slowly but surely unraveling that truth there as well, if it's not clear enough by now. what he does isn't for becky/becca, and definitely not for ryan either. it never was.

it's for his father, no i will not elaborate cause read the damn comics. (but also, people need to stop fucking forgetting that HUGHIE is the *actual* good guy here, not billy... billy is a bad guy... billy is objectively worse than homelander in many MANY canon ways and remember that reverse character development i mentioned--.)

contrast, if you *love* butcher, you will likely be disappointed in the show, but the comics will help prepare you for it (they also make too many things CLEAR)

unfortunately, you do not get sweetheart noir in this and while i love his show counterpart, bearing with cunt 9000 noir is worth it. (it also sparked fic ideas for me cause why not both~<3)

LOVE SAUSAGE IS UNREAL AND PERFECT~<3<3<3 if nothing else, comics love sausage at least deserves your full attention.

homelander's as always is a fun boi, show homelander by comparison is basically *final stage* comics homie (full throttle evil berserk type shit/just before it hits) take everything you thought you knew about (comics) him, and throw it out the fuckin' window.

boi does some fucked up shit... and ALSO has fucking mental breakdowns and visceral reactions like throwing up to doing evil shit because he literally can't stomach it and is trying to convince himself that he is the bad guy because he's been gaslit--.

and i'ma stop there. read the fuckin' comic if you actually wanna know just how deep that homie rabbit hole goes.

and i will absolutely use the idea of him having legit *adverse reactions to doing evil shit* in a fic because FUCK. YES. that was a sad but lovely detail and would make for a perfect fuckin'a alibi<3

anywho~<3, if you recognize he's a victim in the show? the comics. read them cause OOOOOHHHH--.