#girls who help moon :D

[icrawledoutfromtheabyss]

Girls who help Moon :)

(plus our orphan son we found along the way) I did this in a solo jolly co-op with the purpose of reading Hunter's pearl (I didn't read it my first Hunter run because it was hard to carry multiple items and I was inexperienced. Maybe this is cheating but idc and it was fun) I played as Riv and carried Hunter on my back most of the time, but on the first cycle Riv actually died and I had to play as Hunter (and use arrow keys instead of WASD!). My headcanon for this little story is that the timeline is closer together and Hunter's rot was faster, so Rivulet offered to help the ailing scug. Hunter reluctantly agreed.

When I got to Five Pebbles', I found this lil gal! Named her Pearl...

Unfortunately, I went the wrong pipe, so I went back to get the neuron, leaving Hunter behind with pearl while Riv got neurons, but Hunter teleported into Pebbles' room. I didn't want to leave without enlightenment. Long story short, they both died, and poor Pearl was lost on her 0 cycle, so we couldn't get her back. I hope she's okay somewhere in the great cycle... However, my girls then found Odysseus! He's a cutie.

Not Rivulet backflipping into an echo (and taking her whole squad with her)

Then we got to Moon! There were scavs blocking the path, but I had to go and I hibernated in the shelter three rooms before her and they were gone, so I guess it worked out. Took a few tries.

Us bowing to the queen before we leave her ✨

One of their last cycles together- Hunter fell asleep standing up <3 Plus, a pretty purple scav! She killed us all lol

Finally, farewell. Recently did a Spearmaster ascension where I ditched my pups and I felt so bad, so I had Rivulet stay behind with Odysseus. Then I found out only Player 1 could ascend, so I had to redo it and switch Rivulet to Player 2. They said their goodbyes, group hugged, and Hunter went off to ascend, while Rivulet stayed behind to raise Ody.

The ending... void sea spoilers! Things actually dissolve in there! So cool. Checking in on my gang one last time before I go to the light.

Hunter ending spoilers + run stats! Idk why it said Helped Five Pebbles instead of Helped Looks To The Moon lol

Jolly co-op indeed except I did it by myself but storywise yknow. Thanks Rivulet!

I doubt anyone read this far but if you did I appreciate it lol. Here's a virtual batfly. 🦇 What?? You don't like batflies? Fine, a cookie. 🍪 Take it or leave it (or take both a batfly and a cookie...)

[bandgie]

Would you maybe be interested in this?

https://www.tumblr.com/thefantasydenthoughts/745174509121929216/sending-one-more-i-hope-im-not-annoying-i-feel?source=share

a/n: (link) I am yes BUT you know I have to add my own twist

Synopsis: You never expected to run into three terrifyingly handsome men the night you ran away on your wedding, but you didn't expect them to be so inviting either.

warnings: MDNI 18+, fem!reader, 4some, jerking off, multiple orgasms (f!), light pussy play, PIV, cumming inside, no protection, lots of boob play, overstim (f!), GUN INVOLVEMENT (not nsfw), kidnapping?? (kinda), prolly missed more lmao

4.3k words

"Don't scream," you hear a deep voice whisper in your ear before your mouth is covered. "Unless you want metal in your head."

Your small whimpers muffle in his hand, but you nod. The man with chubby cheeks gives you a sympathetic look and frowns at the one holding a gun to your head. "Do you have to say that? You're gonna make her cry."

"Jisung," a cat-like man says his name sternly. "We don't have time for this, let's go."

Jisung grumbles while they lead you to an alleyway away from the main street. The tall man behind you keeps the gun to your head, guiding you to follow them. There are hardly any lights this deep into an alley, but the moon provides enough to help you spot a parked car.

They're taking you back. The thought of your arranged marriage makes you cry, weeping in the hands of your kidnappers. Tears seep through the man's fingers and you taste the saltiness on your lips. Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, but the hand on your mouth prevents you from properly inhaling.

You shake your head back and forth, trying to escape from his grip. "No," you sob. "I don't wanna go back. Don't send me back. Please."

The man with the cat eyes unlocks the car and opens the backseat door. "Damn Hyunjin. What'd you tell her?"

"I didn't say shit!" Hyunjin has to bump you toward the car as you try to escape. "She just started crying. Are you sure we have the right girl?"

It takes Hyunjin and Jisung to put you in the car. To ensure your captivity, each of them sits beside you, thigh to thigh. The other one sits in the front, roaring the car engine to life. "All I was told was that she had white heels. That's it."

You're still crying, hiccuping as Hyunjin keeps the gun pointed steadily at you. Jisung takes a comforting approach, opting to hold your shaky hands and smooth over your skin. "Nothing is gonna happen, okay?" He smiles wearily at you. "Just a few questions. That's all."

No way that's all. If your fiancé sent them, they'll do more than just ask questions. "D-don't lie to me," you say through your tears. "You're gonna send me back to h-him and make me m-marry him and you'll kill me if I don't." You expect them to keep feeding you lies in an attempt to calm you, but Jisung's expression is utterly confused.

"Marry? Marry who?" It's the driver who asks. He hasn't put the car into gear yet as he turns to look at you. His face is more terrifying when he's pissed. "Who are you?"

Shouldn't you be asking them that?

But you tell them. You tell them how you were set up for an arranged marriage with a man whose name you don't even know. You tell them that tonight is the night you ran away from your wedding. You're sure he's sent people to find you, and since Hyunjin had that god-forsaken gun, you thought they were the ones.

"Holy shit," Jisung swears when you finish your story. "Chan is gonna kill us."

You're not sure who Chan is, but you're not eager to find out. "Don't tell him! I promise I won't say anything. I swear. I'll pretend like nothing happened and...and I'll give you anything you want! I have money! I don't care how much you ask for, just don't hurt me." Your bottom lip trembles.

Han shares a look with Hyunjin who looks at the man in the front for directions.

"Listen," the driver speaks softly. "We aren't gonna hurt you. We weren't even thinking of it. We were supposed to question a different girl but someone got it wrong." He shoots a look at Jisung. "But I promise, pretty, nothing's gonna happen to you, okay?"

He sounds sincere, and whether he means it or not, it makes you feel just a little better. You nod and wipe the tears sliding down your face, trying to control your breathing. Hyunjin seems to have long abandoned the gun and Jisung’s hand moved to your knee. Suddenly, it’s not too scary having them pushed against you.

"See?" Jisung gives you a sweet smile. "You're gonna be okay. Minho looks all mean, but he's not too bad."

Minho grunts.

"Okay, maybe he is a little bad, but he's not all bad." Jisung gives a reassuring squeeze.

You nod, trying to smile but the need for air is more important. You're still in your wedding dress with a huge coat over it. With the two men sitting hip-to-hip with you, it's starting to feel hot and uncomfortable. You try fanning yourself with your hand, but it's not enough. Deciding it’s better to remove your coat, you slowly shrug the material off. It slides down your shoulders to reveal the dress you tried so hard to conceal. 

It's beautiful, much to your dismay. A corset wrapped tightly at your waist so your breasts overfill at the top. It's loose on the bottom, with a slit starting at your upper thigh to expose your leg. It makes you look accentuated, yes, but it's a reminder that you were a pawn. You wish you could remove it entirely.

"Oh wow," Jisung can't help his shock. His eyes lock at your chest before traveling up to your neck. "You look...you look...I mean you were getting married, I know, but-"

"You look beautiful," Hyunjin saves Jisung from embarrassment. You discard the coat on the floor of the car before looking at Hyunjin. Maybe it's because he's no longer threatening you, but he looks charming under the car lights. His eyes remind you of how the crescent moon looks high in the sky. Though his lips seem to demand your attention from his smile, you can’t help but be drawn to the shining metal on his eyebrow. 

"I uhh...thanks," you aren't sure which enchanting features to look at. “You look…good too.”

"Thank you," he giggles. "So is this what you were gonna wear for a man you've never even met?" Hyunjin gestures at your dress. Your smile falters and you nod. "What a waste," he places his large hand on your face, thumb stroking your cheek. "Such a pretty thing like you deserves so much more. Don't you think, Ji?"

"So much more," Jisung scoots closer to you. His hand goes to your knee while leaning into your neck. "So pretty." His breath is warm on your skin. His body heat feels like an inviting blanket you want to wrap yourself in. Though you haven’t spoken to Jisung much, he seems to be the ‘nicest’. He was the only one who made an effort to calm you down, even if it didn’t help much at the time. 

You can tell Jisung wants to touch you more. He's practically vibrating with need, but he holds back. The only sign he gives you is the hand on your leg. It never travels up, but his fingers make small circles on your skin. His hesitation only works you up more. Feeling his hand on your knee is only a hint at what you might endure tonight. You're surprised to see how much you want to feel all of them touching you.

Still, you have the mind to remember how scared you were moments ago. “I don't- I don't think-" You're cut off by Hyunjin tracing his thumb on your mouth. He taps your bottom lip, pulling it down to reveal your lower teeth.

"Don't think, angel," he sounds like a dream. "You're safe with us, that's all that matters."

Safe? That you aren't too sure of, but you don't try to stop Hyunjin when he leans in. His hand is steady on your cheek while his lips meet yours. The kiss is soft, a gentle mingling to let you know he wouldn't do anything you're not ready for. You tilt your head up to get more of his taste. A specific flavor of coolness meets your mouth, he must wear chapstick.

Mint, you think.

The kiss deepens and his tongue swipes against your lip. You debate on it, unsure if you're really wanting to fuck the same guys who scared the shit out of you minutes ago. But everything just feels so good. Hyunjin's mouth and Han's inching hand. You're already on the run from your finance, what's the harm in fucking up more?

You part your lips, inviting Hyunjin's tongue. He inhales and grunts at the wetness of yours. They slide together and mix, twisting into an open-mouthed kiss crudely.

Hyunjin properly reattaches his mouth to suck on your bottom lip, pulling the skin in a way that makes you whine. Jisung takes the opportunity to slide his hand up the slit, finding home at your inner thigh. You feel his mouth attach to the exposed part of your neck. His tongue is hot on your skin, licking and sucking until your throat turns a bright shade of pink.

"Are you guys seriously gonna fuck in my car?"

Oh. Right, there's another person here. Hyunjin slowly pulls away from you. The lack of kissing has you chasing his lips, blindly following the sensation.

Han whines in the crook of your neck, sparing a look at Minho who looks both irritated and aroused.

"But Minhooo..." Jisung pouts. "She's so pretty."

"So pretty," Hyunjin parrots.

"And we weren't very nice to her at first. This is us making it up! This is the least we owe her, don't you think?" Jisung must have Minho under some type of spell because his features soften. There's a brief moment of silence that's nearly deafening. The attention shifts from Minho to you, and you can hardly stand the tension.

"I...I want to."

"Oh, you do?" Minho doesn't sound too friendly. "Alright then. Go ahead." He twists his body so it's fully facing you and the other men. You hear Hyunjin groan and Jisung giggle. They waste no time in getting back to their original position, though Jisung seems eager to spread your legs wide this time.

The feeling of two hot mouths lands on both sides of your neck. You gasp, fists gripping their pants.

You lock eyes with Minho to see a smirk on his lips. "You're...you're just gonna watch?"

Minho's smile widens, "Why? Is two not enough for you?"

Hyunjin laughs against your skin while you blush. "That's not what I meant," you whimper when Jisung bites down on your flesh. "I just...I don't want you to-"

"He's a big boy, angel," Hyunjin picks up his head from your neck. "If he wants to watch, he can watch you cum on my dick, okay?" You turn redder, hand coming up to cover your bashful expression.

It's a good thing you've got something covering your mouth because Jisung has managed to infiltrate your underwear amidst the conversation. He massages your cunt through the material in slow circles. You hum and widen your legs while Hyunjin helps to hike the dress up to your waist.

"No, she’s gonna cum on me first!” Jisung pouts. “I wanna be the first one.” To drive his point home, Jisung moves your underwear to the side. He spreads your lips to show the arousal collecting somewhat proudly. “I did this! It’s not fair that Hyunjin calls the shots when I’m the one who got her wet! And I was the only one nice to her!”

Ah, that’s true. Even if Han’s throwing a bit of a tantrum, you can’t help but find it somewhat cute. The points he makes are valid, and if he wasn’t as welcoming as he was in the beginning, you would probably be doing something very different than what you are now. 

Though Han’s directing his whining at the others, you nod. “I…I don’t mind if Jisung goes first.” Your words quiet the car before Jisung looks at you with an endearing smile. “Really?!” He claps when you nod. 

“See!” He looks at Hyunjin. “You don’t get to get everything just ‘cause you’re handsome.”

You giggle as Jisung grabs you by the waist to hover you a few inches off the seat. He slides underneath your ass and wiggles his pants down, using a hand to free his cock. Hyunjin still keeps the dress at your waist so you’re able to see Jisung spring-free when you look down. 

It’s a lot thicker than you thought. It flushes a deep color while the head of his cock is even darker. A few small veins trail along his length, but one along the sides has you already lowering yourself down in anticipation. 

“Whatever. You’re just opening her up for me,” Hyunjin grumbles. 

His words are lost to you and Jisung as he taps his tip on the front of your pussy. Jisung swivels his hips so he’s able to smear his pre-cum over your cunt. You match his movements, grinding back and forth so your clit can catch his flared tip. It’s hard to steady yourself while wearing heels, so you find leverage by hanging onto the headrests of the front seats where Minho sits. 

“Can’t forget about these,” Minho hums to himself as he reaches for your corset. He loosens the top part of your dress before spilling your breasts out, cupping and groping them. He flicks your nipples in an attempt to get them to harden. With his thumb and forefinger, he pinches the buds until you squeal. 

Hyunjin can’t contain himself anymore. He watches as Jisung gets to rub his dick all over your pretty cunt and as Minho plays with your tits. Finding a solution, Hyunjin bunches the material of your dress in one hand behind your back so a newly free hand can finally touch you somewhere. And that somewhere is your cunt. 

“Don’t you want Jisung in your pussy already? Hm?” You feel Hyunjin slide his long fingers to Han’s cock so he can push it up. The tip slightly breaches your entrance, but there’s not enough force for it to go in all the way. Still, you can feel the warmth of it, of all of them. Minho’s soft yet ruthless hands twisting your nipples until they blossom with pink; Han’s hot dick sliding across your pussy; and Hyunjin’s warm fingers guiding the cock where it should go.

You nod, though you aren’t sure if he can tell. 

Hyunjin grabs the base of Han’s cock and angles it to your cunt. “So wet already, it should slide in real good.” He tugs the back of your dress as a sign to lower yourself. Hyunjin is careful to make sure Han’s cock stays perfectly aligned with your hole despite how much he’s moving. Your lower lips spread as the head of his cock breaches your entrance, a whine leaving you. Inch by inch, you take Han’s length inside of you, thighs burning as you slowly make your descent.

Minho’s hands travel from your chest to your shoulders, helping you fully settle on Han’s cock. “Shit, look at that,” he laughs breathlessly. “Pussy opens so good for him.” You whine at Minho’s praise, finding the motivation to finally sink fully into his cock with a moan.

“Gotta fuck you,” Jisung whimpers from behind. His hands find the curve of your hips before he thrusts upwards. You squeal at his intrusion, thighs shaking. “J-Jisung! Can’t- I can’t- Just wait let me-” But he doesn’t wait and a bigger part of you is glad. You can feel his thighs slapping against the bottom of yours, how he’s whining just behind your ear with soft apologies. 

“So, so good. Pussy so good to me, baby. I- fuck- ‘m sorry. I’ll be slower next time, mkay? I promise.” Jisung opts to wrap his arms around your middle torso to properly fuck up into you. Your tits bounce at his harsh thrusts and Minho doesn’t hesitate to get back to work on them. He takes hold of your nipples and pulls, watching your back arch forward. The whimper that leaves your mouth is heavenly, and Hyunjin can’t help but grow restless. 

The taller man moves his hand to rub on your clit, moving the flesh in wide circles. Your jaw drops and you tilt your head to look at Hyunjin, eyes glazed with tears and arousal from the overstimulation. He gives you a dazzling smile, “You should see how you look, angel. Gettin’ all worked up over one dick. It’s so cute.”

Your styled hair must be a mess from the way Jisung keeps pounding into you. Your dress is wrinkled and damn near disheveled at the top because of Minho’s persistent groping. And you’re sure the expensive makeup can only last so long. So to hear Hyunin call you cute seems like it should be impossible, but the look on his face screams authenticity. You mean to thank him, to say anything that could describe how grateful you are for all of them making your night, but the moment you open your mouth, it’s moans and cries that sound instead. 

“Fuck! Her pussy,” Jisung groans. “Gonna make me cum. I can cum in you, right? Can I?” The desperation in his voice makes you want to agree, but it’s Minho who answers him. “You get to fuck her first and cum in her? That hardly sounds fair.” Even though you can see the smirk on Minho’s lips, Jisung cries out as if he’s been wounded. His embrace around you tightens and his thrusts grow sloppy. Despite that, your cunt hugs his cock eagerly, begging for his cum. The walls of your pussy feel stretched and used, but you can feel your womb aching to be filled.

“Want it…” you moan. “All of it. I want all of it.” 

It’s as if you’re Jisung’s savior. He can’t help but laugh, looking at his hyungs with triumph. “Heard that? You heard that, right?” He kisses the exposed part of your neck tenderly. “Thank you, baby, thank you. Imma fill you up nice and full. Gonna be leaking with my cum for weeks.”

“Gross,” you hear Hyunjin grimace. There’s not a chance to glance at him before Jisung bucks up into you with fervor. You gasp, leaning forward towards Minho so Jisung can have full access to your pussy. It’s wet, it’s lewd, and Hyunjin only makes the sounds louder as his fingers flick back and forth against your nub. 

You’re reminded of how tired your legs are in this position, but that thought is distracted by a warm mouth enveloping your breast. You look down to see Minho peering up at you through his lashes, your nipple between his teeth. He gently bites before sucking it back into his mouth, letting his tongue graze the bud repeatedly. He hallows his mouth to make a powerful suction and leans his head back, taking your tit with him.

It’s no shock when you cum, but it is sudden. You’re not sure which action made you finally tip over, but Jisung can feel the gushing of your cunt and the squeezing of your walls on his cock. Hyunjin can feel how much wetter your clit has gotten, how it twitches in his hold. Minho only giggles when your entire body vibrates, tits jiggling in his mouth. 

Han whines, “Is she cumming? I can feel her pussy creaming all over my cock. Shit, feels so good baby. Gonna make me cum.”

“Mhm,” Hyunjin looks at your wrecked state that barely manages to keep you upright. “She’s cumming all right. Don’t think she can take much more, Ji. Hurry up or she’ll pass out on my turn.”

The thought of having Hyunjin fuck you makes you clench on Jisung’s cock. It seems like he appreciates this, moaning before spilling hot cum into your pussy. It floods your cunt in streaks, finding a place deep in your womb. Your knuckles turn white from the grip you have on the headrests, teeth digging into your lower lip just to keep yourself from being too loud. Jisung groans and rests his forehead on your back, giving you tired thrusts to ride out his high. 

“God- fuck! You put a spell on this pussy or something? Squeezing me so tight like it doesn’t wanna let me go.” Jisung struggles to pull himself out of you. He adjusts his hands back to your hips so he can lift you, slowly dragging his cock against your walls. You moan at the feeling of him sliding out. It’s cautious and slow, a good alternative from how roughly he was fucking you. The two of you let out a loud whine when he’s fully out.

“About time,” Hyunjin pushes Jisung out of the way. Jisung frowns, “Hey! That’s not very nice.”

Hyunjin laughs, shaking his head as he adjusts himself to how Jisung was. “Shut up. Just hold her dress up.” With grumbles, the younger man listens and bunches your wedding dress in his fists. Hyunjin slides the tip of the cock on your pussy, sending overstimulating shocks throughout your body. 

“Make it fast,” Minho directs his attention to Hyunjin. “We’ve overstayed.” Hyunjin nods, but not without a few mumbles under his breath before sinking himself inside of you.

You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t this. Han’s cock wasn’t the longest, but it hardly lacked the thickness to stretch you out. With Han, it felt like you were being lolled around, but with Hyunjin, you can’t help but still. His cock goes deep, a never-ending feeling of being probed. You throw your head back, uncaring for how loud your moan is. Hyunjin shivers under you, hands shaky as he quickly finds a pace to fuck into you.

Minho has a front-seat view. It’s an understatement to say he’s amazed at how well you’re taking Hyunjin. Your cunt flutters open perfectly for him, clit swollen from being rubbed. Minho watches the inches upon inches being slammed into you before being pulled out. You can’t blame him when you see him sneak a hand to undo his jeans before pulling his cock out. 

“Shit! Can’t believe you got to fuck this pussy first,” Hyunjn moans out to Jisung. “Still so tight.”

Jisung is wiggling in his seat despite already cumming, Like Minho, he’s slowly stroking his soft cock at the sight. “Mhm. Tight little pussy. He’s fucking you real good, huh?” He doesn’t expect you to answer, you’re too busy trying not to scream at the bruising pace Hyunjin’s set. If you thought Jisung was rough, then Hyunjin is brutal.

“T-too much!” You yelp when Hyunjin finds a certain spot in your cunt. He feels your walls clench so violently that Jisung’s cum leaks onto his cock. “N-not there,” you whimper. “Can’t take it.”

“But it feels so good there,” Hyunjin retaliates. For once, his hips slow to purposely drag his cock across that spot. You squirm and hiccup in his hold, squealing at how overwhelmingly blissful it feels. Jisung wipes the corner of your mouth, collecting the drool that’s begun to seep through your lips before popping it in his mouth to suck.

Hyunjin drives his cock deep inside, “You feel that?” He pulls a few inches out and grinds in again. “That’s where I’mma put all my cum. Right in here.” You shiver at his words, nodding mindlessly. He smiles at your pliant state though you can’t see. “Good girl.”

“And you called me gross,” Jisung rolls his eyes, thumb still in his mouth as he watches Hyunjin desperately get himself to cum inside you. His words are hardly noticed though amongst the sound of skin and moans. All you can focus on is how close Hyunjin can bring you in such a short amount of time. He’s focused on fucking you right and you can feel how hot his body is. He brings you back down on his cock with such vigor that your entire body jiggles at the force. Minho’s eyes switch between your cunt swallowing Hyunjin’s cock to your breasts. You wish you could reach over and replace his hand with your own, but Hyunjin has a strong hold on your body for his own use.

His cock twitches in your pussy and he groans. Hyunjin’s hips have started to falter, but you’re hardly upset about it. Your cunt feels beyond abused, leaking with Jisung’s cum every time Hyunjin fucks into you. The familiar feeling of euphoria builds in your stomach and you feel it grow with every powerful thrust. You’re so caught up in the sensation of your approaching orgasm that you almost miss Hyunjin announcing his own high.

“Oh, angel. I’mma cum in you. You want my cum, yeah? Say it. Fuck. Say how much you want it.”

Hyunjin expecting you to talk despite pounding himself into you is comical, but you manage to squeak out small words. “So bad. I need it, Hyunnie. I- I wanna feel it inside me, please.” Your babbling is more than enough for Hyunjin to unload. He shivers and stills his hips flush against your ass, letting his cock pump you full of cum. 

You can feel his tip pressing against your cervix. His cock is rubbing against your gummy spot so perfectly that you cum seconds after him. Hyunjun moans at the feel of your walls clamping down on him. 

When he slips out of you, your thighs fold until you collapse on his lap wetly. Your legs tremble both from exertion and the pleasure coursing through your body. You rest your head on the middle console, wrapping your arms around your torso in an attempt to stop yourself from shaking. Hyunjin soothingly runs his hands up and down your back, cooing at how well you did with Jisung chiming in with compliments.

It takes you a moment to recognize the wet sound of Minho stroking himself. You tiredly pick your head up just in time with his orgasm. Minho’s cum shoots so far that a few strings of cum land on your face. You blink and flinch at the warm substance, automatically using your tongue to swipe off the gooey liquid. 

“Oops,” you can see Minho trying his best not to laugh. “Uhh…let’s take you to Chan’s now.”

[harmoonix]

👑 E M P I R E 👑

• Astrology Observations •

𓃮.✻´`✻.𓃮𓃮.✻´`✻.𓃮𓃮.✻´`✻.𓃮𓃮.✻´`✻.𓃮𓃮.✻

𓃮.✻´`✻.𓃮𓃮.✻´`✻.𓃮𓃮.✻´`✻.𓃮𓃮.✻´`✻.𓃮𓃮.✻

👑 - "I'm too classy for this world, forever I'm that girl" - Leo/Capricorn/Libra and Scorpio placements

👑 - Leo in your birth chart rules over where you are the most devoted/loyal/passionate about

Leo in the 4th house = your family

Leo in your 7th house = your relationships

Leo in your 10th house = your career

Leo in your 1st house = yourself

👑 - Fire Venus - Fire Moon is such a hot combo to have your birth chart, so passionate and so intense. You may have this "fierce" presence in others people's lives

👑 - Fire Venus - Air Moon is another great combo because it shows interest in everything they do. Also natives with such combos are great at flirting and talking dirty

👑 - Water Venus - Earth Moon is a very powerful combo to have in your birth chart because it shows you have strong desires in life and ambition to achieve them

👑 - Cancer Placements hate being rude/mean towards others so they try their best to be the nicest as possible with everyone.

👑 - Eros/Psyche in Libra/Taurus/Pisces/Sagittarius are so sensual. Literally they can be so romantic and full of love. They tend to be an hopeless romantic most times tho (Eros 433 - Psyche - 16)

👑 - Psyche in the 2nd house/Psyche in Taurus > Their worth > everything else. People with these placements value themselves a lot and they have all the rights to do that

👑 - Ascendant - Sun aspects > Their aura is insane, they radiate "celebrity" vibes. They legit light the room when they come in

👑 - Jupiter/Neptune in 12th house > Guardian Angels, they are so protected and so gifted with spirituality, knowledge and wisdom.

👑 - Asteroid Lucifer [1930] in Air Signs can be so attracted to music, literally angels of music stereotype. Music can help them and make them better in the same way

👑 - Ascendant - Mercury aspects have a nice voice (all aspects applying) they're voice either might be the cutest either the most different voice you ever heard

👑 - Moon in the 9th house and their expanding nature > These people are growing so much and learn from every experience, also their love for belfies/traditions/cultures is everything

👑 - Gemini in the 5th house/Mercury in the 5th are the type or people you like at the first sight, they are so inteligent so easily attract people

👑 - Sagittarius Venus/Venus in the 9th house mystery is underrated > These placements can often give the vibe they are from another planet, they're so smart and charismatic especially since Jupiter helps them a lot. You're so luckyyy

👑 - Venus in Aquarius Degrees (11°, 23°) can be known for their beauty in online/medial/socials these are also fame degrees

👑 - Lilith (h12) opposite Sun > I have only word to describe them and that is W I L D, with them you literally can do the craziest things ever (I say this from experience 😭✋🏼) Oh also they are hot AF

👑 - Venus and Jupiter aspects make a person to be so likeable by others, especially because of their vibe and personality

👑 - Mars in Aries/Mars in the 1st house > Damn is so hot in here ✋🏼, Mars is at home in this sign 😍, breaking bed sessions be so intense

👑 - People who lack water placements/water Element in their chart tend to say that they're emotional and more sensitive which is right but make sure to check your draconic/sidereal chart because they are the chart of your soul

👑 - If you have Pluto/Saturn/Mars in your 4th house, you can quite feel some intensity between your family members, sometimes chaos, sometimes an overwhelming feeling

👑 - Neptune trine/sextile/conjunct Moon is so serene, they're very peaceful and have this pure energy around them like you can feel so attached to them and so safe

👑 - I have my Moon conjunct my south node and honestly I often find myself thinking/looking over the past and how much the past changed me, honestly these aspects make you think in the past sometimes or just to get lost in memories

👑 - Chiron in Aries/Chiron in the 1st house > They can be a bit shy when it comes to their appearance and they will do everything to not get in people's eyes and to get attention, but you are so so so pretty is shame you dont want to attract people

👑 - Moon in the 10th house gets pretty overwhelmed around lots of people, they feel like they exposed themselves to an extend and don't want to feel or do that, they can read people based on how they feel

👑 - Venus in the 12th house/Pisces has a hard time thinking about finding the right person for them. Some of these natives can fall over the "nice but posesive/controlling boyfriend" trap

👑 - Libra Placements esp (Sun/Moon/Rising) have a very good looking 🍑 and is not always about its size. It's about that is looking good in every shape

👑 - Asteroid Born [13954] can show things you were born for, for example I have mine in the 11th house and I always ended up having a very close connection with my friends, in conclusion born to make a bound with people

In the 7th house it can show you were born for a good relationship/marriage

In the 10th house it can show you were born to be successful especially in your career/job

In the 8th house it can show you were born to make money or to get marry rich and at some point to go through a rebirth

In the 1st house it can show you were born to be yourself. This has the definition of "be yourself"

If you have your asteroid born in other house check this photo:

👑 - As you can see the 5th house can also indicate "affairs" and that can happen if someone has Mars/Pluto there because these planets indicate a lot of lust, that doesn't mean everyone with those placements has affairs, it can just be an indicator (Also if you have Aphrodite 1388 in this house)

👑 - Natives with Sun/Moon in the 12th house can possibly live their last earthly life, by that I mean they wont have to reincarnate again in the future lives because in this present life they will end something that needs to be ended

𓃮.✻´`✻.𓃮𓃮.✻´`✻.𓃮𓃮.✻´`✻.𓃮𓃮.✻´`✻.𓃮𓃮.✻

𓃮.✻´`✻.𓃮𓃮.✻´`✻.𓃮𓃮.✻´`✻.𓃮𓃮.✻´`✻.𓃮𓃮.✻

👑 - So let me tell y'all I loved making this post so much because of these wonderful aesthetics for me, the aesthetics and the way a POST looks matter a lot, because i need everything to look pretty/shiny and something eye striking too 👑

👑 My aesthetic eye does no wrong and is never missing 👑

👑 I have hope you all who read my posts have a wonderful day, make sure to spend it with someone dear to you and to surround yourself with beauty everyday 👑

All posts are made by me @harmoonix

👑 H a r m o o n i x 👑

[pha55ed]

Painfully Oblivious || F2/F3

type :: crack/angst tw/cw :: none contains :: ollie, kimi, paul, dino summary :: reader is completely oblivious to the guys' crush on them, no matter how hard they flirt - made as driver!reader in mind but can be ignored - inspo: glue song by beabadoobee f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || more here!

Ollie Bearman | 03

Flirting is already hard enough for Ollie, but you make it 100x times harder

He literally has no clue on how to get you to understand that HE LIKES YOU

Ollie usually flirts in subtle ways, like slightly lingering touches, complimenting your outfit, doing small acts of service, etc

Only problem is, you don't notice them at all

And when you do notice them, you just assume he's a super nice and friendly dude! :D

One time you were complaining about how cold it was, especially since you forgot your jacket

Ollie instantly took off his jacket and gave it to you, not saying another word out of shyness

But your dumbass thought he just wanted him to hold his jacket...

So you and him were walking side by side, with you carrying his jacket in your arms whilst still complaining about how cold you are

Ollie looked at you, dumbfounded, how could you not piece together to wear his jacket???

So he had to explain to you to wear his jacket,,, and that he was giving it to you on purpose,,, not for you to carry around,,,

You literally went:☝️😲💡 OHHH!!!!

He laughs it off, helping you put on his jacket (which was extremely oversized on you)

Yet still, you have the audacity to jokily say: "Haha this is so rom-com! It's just like those movie scenes when the guy likes her and then gives her his jacket hahaha"

Ollie looks at you deadpan,,, he regrets liking someone who oblivious...

But he's fallen too deeply to back out, so he's stuck pining after someone who's dumb as shit

Maybe one day he'll confess, but not yet, not for a very long time

Kimi Antonelli | 04

Getting a crush on someone is kind of new territory for Kimi

He's extremely realistic, and he knows that relationships most likely won't work when being so busy with racing

But for some reason, his brain completely malfunctions every time he sees you, it's as if you rewired his entire mind

He hates it, but he can't help but smile every time he's around you

Following old traditions and media is basically what he tries to do to get you to understand his feelings

But you're so blinded and naive that you can't piece it together

One time he got pole position after a super exhausting race, giving him such an adrenaline boost that he got the balls to ask you out

He asked you out to dinner, which you said yes to eagerly

And he was on top of the world, he’s never felt luckier: to not only win a race but to win over his crush???

He gets dressed super nice, does his hair, and even gives himself a pep talk

The dinner between you both goes amazingly, and he’s over the moon

That is, until you say: “Where’s everyone else? No one else came to your Winner Dinner? :(“

And he literally wants to strangle you…

A great dinner that lasted almost two hours of chatting and eating great foods

Connecting on so many different topics, relating to each other

So he face palms, making you confused as hell? Cause what you asked wasn’t odd in your eyes???

But he gets so frustrated that he just says, “No one else came because this is a DATE!!!”

And instantly you’re like 😧, blushing even. You had zero clue and were too dumb to piece together that all of this was a date

He can’t even be mad at you because he finds your obliviousness kinda cute - but he does hope you get the hint that he likes you from then on

Paul Aron | 17

Everyone knows Paul is a bit of a player, but contrary to popular belief: it’s not on purpose

Ladies just throw themselves to Paul, which is super understandable

But Paul literally has no clue how he has so much rizz despite him doing literally NOTHING to earn their affection

(It’s because he’s gorgeous and flirty on accident)

Despite how many girls like him, for some reason he can never get you to like him,,, or at least acknowledge he likes you

He’s been pretty forward with his crush on, the most forward out of all of the guys by far

Giving you flirty compliments, always searching you out in crowds to talk with you, being possessive over you when anyone else tries to get your attention, even remembering what you said you liked so he can buy it for you

He’s basically already your boyfriend, just without the title and without you knowing

And he kinda likes it? But also hates it?

He loves not having the complete title of a relationship so he’s not fully committing

But he also hates it since he can’t stop feeling jealous when others hit on you or when others crush on you

So he decides to just blatantly ask you out, hoping you’d finally understand that all this times he’s been trying to pin after you

He sets an entire day dedicated to you. Giving you a beautiful flower bouquet, taking you to your favorite restaurant, and even taking you on a night walk on the beach

It’s extremely cheesy, but he doesn’t even care

So at the end of the day, when he’s dropping you off - he goes for it

He kisses you in his car, right in-front of your house, exactly like every rom-com movie to ever exist

He does it because he knows there’s no way words will get through you dumb pea brain that he actually likes you

So when he gently removes his lips off yours and looks at your shocked face, he’s hoping you say you like him back

Or even better, he hopes you kiss him again

Dino Beganovis | 01

You two are kinda in the same both, you’re both insanely oblivious to your feelings to each other

Dino only realizes he likes you after Ollie and Kimi point out how much happier he is with you: as if he’s on cloud 9 the second you’re in his vicinity

He’s in denial at first, he asks Paul and Paul straight up says: “I thought you two were dating already???”

And now Dino is having a crisis because OH MY FUCKING GOD HE LIKES HIS BEST FRIEND??? THIS WHOLE TIME??????

So now he’s super nervous around you, he can’t even mutter a word to you without looking away

Your eyes have suddenly gotten 10x times prettier, as if they were a black hole sucking his soul in

Your hair is suddenly so much shiny and soft, making everything else in the world seem rough and coarse in comparison

Everything about you is stunning, and he can’t get you out of his head

He wants this crush phase to be over, but you won’t allow that since you’re too blinded to see that he likes you

It makes him go crazy because he’s so anxious of you not liking him back and possibly ruining your whole friendship

But every driver encourages him to make a move and test the waters - which takes him weeks of planning of how he’s gonna do it

So, while you two were having your usual movie night: he made his first move

He stretches his arm and rests it on your shoulders, basically side hugging you

But you confuse his action as wanting popcorn, you shove a handful of popcorn into his hand and smile at him

He smiles back, kinda disappointed his flirting didn’t work but he tries again

Being super risky, he decides to put his hand on your thigh

And you look at him like: 🤨 what? meh,

And go back to watching the movie without caring at all

All he does is just sigh and take his hand back, he decides he'll just try again a different day

f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || more here!

[queers-gambit]

The Risk

part one: Match Made in Grey Haven

prompt: after your wedding, you and Elrond embark on your honeymoon touring Middle-earth. your company is attacked on the road by Orcs. help comes from an old friend.

pairing: Elrond x shy!female!wife!reader

fandom masterlist: The Rings of Power

word count: 7.1k+

note: internet researched Elven wedding customs, i don't want to hear it. keep the Elrond requests coming.

warnings: pre events of TROP, the "shyness" more so conveys as inexperience, romance, little bit of fluff, Gil-galad is a girl's girl, and Elven weddings! also cursing! violence! angst! character injury! Orcs! blood! literal hurt and comfort! emotions are hard! abrupt but happy ending, not edited, wonky brain went wonky, and intentionally misspelled words to indicate accent.

You spent a year and a half planning your wedding.

Due to your status amongst the Elves and their court, it was declared the event of the century and the High King himself demanded it be planned to the highest of exquisite detail. Granted, you and Elrond were content to marry in a quicker fashion, leaving it between family, but Gil-galad loved a good party and who were you to refuse your King?

So, you spent about 18 months (on and off) in Lindon, going over details and specifics with Gil-galad while Elrond did the King's actual work. You're positive Elrond was content to escape the wedding planning and honestly, you didn't mind as much as you feared you would because the King was opinionated, decently funny, and decisive. He spared no expense. He encouraged you to branch away from your usual humble taste. He wanted the whole of Elvendom to come together to celebrate. He wanted this occasion to be...his.

You had no objections.

You were honestly relieved someone else wanted to plan such an extraordinary event for you - but were beyond you ready to be married! Several times in the last several months, Elrond actually offered to elope - run away to the Gray Havens and marry before your beloved grandfather, Elrond's old master, Círdan - but the King was putting so much effort into your wedding, you didn't accept. It was nice, though, how mutually anxious Elrond appeared to be to marry you, too.

However, the past three moons, you've been absolutely inconsolable. Your wedding was only days away, Elrond had traveled to Eregion for "business" months ago, and Círdan had yet to arrive! You felt overwhelming panic consume your very being, becoming slightly more irritable as you couldn't help but feel (wrongfully) abandoned - should it not of been for your best mate, fellow Elleth, Bôril. She held your emotions in check, posed as buffer between you and emotional ruin, and was the voice of reason when your rationality vanished.

"What if something happened?" You worried during one of your late night, last minute sessions. "How would we know? What if - while traveling - something went awry?"

Gil-galad sighed gently, "Herald Elrond was sent with some of my most trusted warriors."

"Elrond is warrior enough by himself," Bôril smirked, "you worry for nothing - "

"I am supposed to get married in a matter of days and neither my grandfather nor my intended can be found. I think I have plenty to worry over!" Gil-galad and Bôril shared a knowing look while you wiped your face clear of frustrating fear. "I am not accustomed to not knowing. It's this unknown, the lack of answers that pushes me towards insanity."

"Well," Bôril smirked, her eyes casted towards the hall, "fear no longer, sweet friend, all your answers approach."

In confusion, you turned in the seat you had been slumped in, seeing Elrond and Círdan heading down the hall towards the room you were gathered in. With a gasp, you leapt from your chair and rushed into the causeway towards your dearest loved ones. "Thank the Valar! Elrond!" You gasped first, flinging yourself into his arms; which coiled around you tightly and lifted you, his face burying in your neck. "My love - where were you? What happened - why the delay?" Your voice cracked as your whispered, "You said you'd be only 6 weeks, you were gone twice that! I was so worried!"

"I'm so sorry for worrying you, my star," he whispered back; breath hot in your ear. "I'll explain it all," he promised, lowering you back to your feet to pull back only to instantly take your cheeks in his hands. "I'm sorry it took so long, but I promise, it was for a good reason," he told you softly, thumbs sweeping over the apples of your cheeks; then glancing over pointedly at your grandfather.

"And you!" You scolded playfully. "We expected you weeks ago! Yet you sent no word!"

"We were delayed," Círdan smirked, approaching you as Elrond released his hold; confirming they were together this time. "C'mere, sweet one," he chuckled, bringing you in for a tight embrace. After releasing, he gently tapped the button of your nose, "I am here now, ready to help where I can."

"Oh, please," you chuckled, taking a half-step closer to your betrothed, "there's nothing left to be done, our generous King has planned it all for us. I'm just relieved you are both safe."

Elrond smiled and wrapped his arm around your waist, bringing you in to place a sweet peck on your cheek. "Come," your fiancé encouraged, and when you reentered the planning chambers, you realized others had followed you in.

Evidently, Elrond had gone to Eregion on "business", yes, but it was personal. He had gifted you a ring to symbolize your engagement; modest, silver, simple, gorgeous, and so perfectly "Elrond" - but he wasn't satisfied with it, apparently. As per Elven customs, the engagement rings would be exchanged at the ceremony for wedding bands, and Elrond was determined to give you something extravagant - to prove his adoration. So, he went to Eregion and forged with the Greatest of the Elven Smiths, Lord Celebrimbor, a wedding ring he thought suitable for your finger. Círdan met them to aid in the creation of this gorgeous ring Elrond crafted - insisting you couldn't see it until the ceremony. The trio also crafted Elrond a matching wedding ring that would only accentuate yours; another show of his devotion to you.

Hence their collective delay. Lord Celebrimbor arrived with them, greeting you with mirth; truly excited and honored to have been involved with your wedding band creation.

You were just relieved everyone finally safe and gathered in Lindon. That night, you laid in bed with Elrond; deflated by relief, just staring at him, hand on his cheek, caressing his flesh. "Next time, send word if you're to be late," you requested in a whisper.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, "we were so focused, purely driven by creating something that you'll have forever - we lost track of so much time."

"How many rings did you make?"

"Too many. Though, Celebrimbor will have now options to gift others."

You both snickered, sighing with contentment. Then you whispered, "I fear I might owe a few people an apology..."

"Why? What happened?"

"I was... Operating on a short fuse while worried about you. Might've gotten a little snappy."

"You were rude?" He gasped comically. "I didn't know you even knew how to be."

"Hush," you breathed, leaning closer, "I was worried."

"But I'm here now," he promised, hand to your neck encouraging you to kiss him.

After that, the days passed in a breeze, as if a collective sigh of relief had been heaved by all of Lindon.

And then, the morning of your wedding finally arrived and it was like chaos struck. You never knew, but apparently, outside the chambers you used to prepare in, Gil-galad had everyone rushing around to perfect final details; prepare food, set tables, water and arrange flowers, retrieve whatever was requested by other guests. However, you were none the wiser (as he intended), being fretted over by all types of Elves who were impassioned to make you and your day as flawless as possible.

The High King ensured Elrond was taken care of, the young Herald quiet and seemingly concentrated on his thoughts; lips moving without words, repeating his vows to himself silently. Before it could've been questioned, Círdan arrived with a velveteen jewelry box; appearing ready for the day's events, as if awake for hours.

"Here," Círdan smiled, shooing away the attendants so he could sit beside Elrond, "this is for you, my boy."

"My Lord?" Elrond questioned softly, accepting the gift.

"It's customary."

"What is?" He wondered, opening the lid and revealing a gorgeous, glimmering broach. "Lord Círdan - "

"It's custom for the bride's mother to gift her new son-in-law a gem to be worn as a boastful show of the joining of two families," the craftsman explained. "This... This sapphire belonged to my daughter, and now, I'd like you to have it."

"I don't think I could accept - "

"It is customary," Gil-galad stepped in, seeing the refusal ready on Elrond's tongue.

So, Elrond swallowed his nerves and nodded to Círdan, "Thank you, my Lord. This stone is... Beyond words, surely, only it's previous owner could rival it's beauty."

The tears were bright in Círdan's eyes the rest of the day.

Due to the lack of conventional family, the ceremony was kept between only the High King Gil-galad as officiant and Círdan as witness. The King had designated a private overlook for your ceremony, standing at the cliffside under the golden glow of the Great Tree with Elrond in fine velvet tunics; gorgeous sapphire glittering on his chest, keeping his father's cloak in place as his own special tribute. Just as the sky turned heavenly, sun in position to set, Círdan began to lead you down the pathway - towards your forever.

Elrond choked on air, tears slowly filling his eyes.

You were draped in the finest of silks, a thin veil covering your face; hair in long ringlets, pinned back from your face in an elegant updo. It was like the Light of Valinor itself was shining through you, nearly blinding Elrond with sheer bliss. It was almost as if time slowed, nearly stilling completely; as if your form was moving in slow motion. Even under the sheer veil, Elrond could see your grin and suddenly, he couldn't hear, see, smell, feel anything but your love and light.

With a gentle sniffle, Elrond glanced at Gil-galad, who was beaming with pride already; his own growing, which nobody realized was even possible. Upon approach, Elrond instantly met you at the base of the stone stairs; watching Círdan give a watery smile while hugging you sweetly. He pulled back, gently lifted the veil to flip over your head, and sighed while caressing both cheeks.

In Sindarin, he whispered, "They'd be so proud of the woman you've become... And the man you're marrying. Just as I am."

Now, Elrond choked on his emotion.

"Thank you for everything," you managed to whisper, your grandfather sighing gently before guiding your hand from his into Elrond's. He joined Gil-galad on the platform, both watching proudly as Elrond was at a loss for words - only able to look you up and down.

Finally, he breathed in Sindarin, "Gorgeous."

Before the Elven High King and under your grandfather's loving eye, you and Elrond exchanged vows during sunset. It was intimate and private, either of you slipping your engagement rings off as Círdan presented your wedding bands. You gasped when you saw the ring Elrond crafted for the first time, looking at him with wide eyes, voice gentle as you asked, "You made this?"

"I did."

"For... Me?"

Elrond smiled, "Of course. A wife as beautiful as you deserves a ring that could only strive to embody your shine."

"Don't make me scold you for being so cheesy on our wedding day, my love, please," you giggled, Elrond chuckling while he took your hand to splay before him. He slid the ring onto your index finger, allowing you to do the same with his matching band. Neither of you were able to contain your glee when Gil-galad pronounced you officially as man and wife - Elrond all but lunging forward to hold your cheeks, swooping in to sear your lips with his kiss. You were just as excited, holding onto his biceps to keep him close; feeling warmth swell and burst in your chest as you realized... You were finally married.

After, at the feast Gil-galad had planned, the whole of Lindon was decorated and celebrating your union; hosts of food on long banquet tables, live bands entertaining the crowds, lanterns and candles glowing, conversation turning boisterous as Elves indulged on the castes of wine gifted or collected by the King.

Who, if you were wondering, was hosting the entire affair and having a splendid time as Bôril danced with Camnir - seemingly to Vorohil's chagrin, which Elrond pointed out to you first.

You were just happy to bask in your husband's glory; unable to believe he was yours, that you get to spend your life with him, that you were bound together. He seemed... Youthful in this setting; a young lad that was forced to grow up too quickly, finally able to appreciate the attention directed at him while gracefully accepting words of congratulations everywhere he turned. It was so simple, something decently mundane, but you found it impressive; the way Elrond could accept conversation from just anyone.

It simply intimidated you; content with your written letters and accounts, never truly needing to interact with people on this level. You were better, not quite as shy as before, but old habits die hard and overcoming social anxiety was a lifelong profession. Speaking of, your anxiety spiked from the sheer number of attendants, but Elrond was both sword and shield - intercepting people left and right, saving you from any "on the spot" moments.

The party went deep into the night, and while it was a fun time - complete with Bôril challenging the High King to a silly drinking game, Celebrimbor teaching the steps to an old dance, and Vorohil getting shot down by several Elleths - you were beyond exhausted. Perhaps you didn't hide it as well as you thought because Elrond slid into his empty seat and instantly leaned into your ear to ask, "All right, love?"

"Hmm? Yeah, 'course," you answered, setting the glass of First Age wine (a gift from Celebrimbor) aside to focus on him. Gently caressing his chin, you asked, "You all right?"

"Perfect, actually, just look at my wife," he mused, "though, you look tired, my star."

You hummed, "Can't fool you, can I?"

"It's my job now," he chuckled, letting you lean in gleefully to peck his lips. "How about we slip away? Hm?" He whispered softly, glancing around dramatically - like he was conducting a secret mission.

"Yes, please," you hissed, both snickering lightly. Like a couple of randy youths, you stood with the gifted First Age bottle, hands tangled together, 'sneaking' away to your rooms; thinking you were pulling it off, being so sneaky.

"Oh, bless their hearts, look. Look! I love those idiots," Bôril giggled to the King, "they're so obvious! Look at them go!"

"They're in loooove," Gil-galad teased, refilling his goblet.

"Guess they just can't wait to consummate their marriage, huh? Good for Elrond," Camnir snickered, freezing when Círdan's blank stare registered. "I-I'm so sorry, my Lord, I did not - I misspoke - I didn't think you, uh... I'm sorry."

Círdan just groaned lightly, his friend, Lord Celebrimbor, leaning over to top off his glass and encourage it closer to him; patting his shoulder in sympathy. Bôril and Gil-galad truly tried to hold back, but the scene was truly comical to witness and the two laughed so hard, they ended up leaning on each other and slumping in their chairs.

The party continued without you and Elrond, but it's safe to say, you were engaged in a party of your own.

"You've been quiet, love," you noted softly, one hand held tightly by Elrond's, the other holding your horse's reins; walking to give them a break on this leg of the journey. For weeks, you've been on the road together, touring Middle-earth as part of your honeymoon.

Never having been anywhere other than the Gray Havens and Lindon, you were like a new born fawn in the wilderness - but it was exhilarating to travel.

"Hmm?"

"You're pensive," you amended.

"I am simply in thought, my star, nothing of concern," Elrond assured.

"You're sullen."

"I don't mean to be," he sighed.

"What's troubling you?"

Elrond was quiet for a long moment, stepping carefully as neither of you noticed thick, dark clouds beginning to fill the sky. Finally, he admitted quietly, "We are not far from Khazad-dûm."

You hummed in understanding, then pondered while stepping around overgrown tree roots, "Remind me why we did not extend Prince Durin a wedding invitation?"

"We did," Elrond informed, sighing deeply, "he just... Did not respond..."

"That does not sound like him, based on your account."

"No, it was truly... Odd," Elrond admitted, "perhaps being why I feel strange being close to his kingdom now."

"Do you wish to visit?"

"We don't have the time - "

"We can make time, Elrond," you insisted, squeezing his hand with a grin. "And as far as anyone is concerned, the great Dwarven Kingdom of Khazad-dûm is part of Middle-earth, and therefor, part of our tour. I'd like to meet your friend, my sweet. Now, which direction?"

"We don't have time, starlight, we are expected by Lord - "

But Elrond came to a sudden halt, pulling you into his side as both your horses stamped and whinnied loudly; tossing their heads and snorting, the whites of the eyes flashing as ears flattened as they suddenly stopped in place. You flinched into your husband's side, the horses restless, guards circling around the pair of you quickly. Darkness descended.

"What is it?" You asked in concerned confusion.

"Something is amiss," Elrond rushed, looking confused and concentrated. "I-I do not know what, but the shadow has stretched. C'mere, mount up, my love, quickly, please."

"My Lord," Vorohil, one of your guards and a friend to your husband, directed his horse between yours while Elrond ensured you were safely seated, "there's a darkness to the path ahead, the horses - they are refusing to go forward. It grows darker, my Lord."

You had to reseat yourself as Elrond mounted; the horses backing away as there sounded a ghostly moan from the woods surrounding you.

"This darkness?" Elrond repeated, "Where did it come from? 'Tis midday - "

"Look around us!" Vorohil barked, Elrond sending him a sharp look before looking up - realizing there seemed to be a sort of dark cloud covering the sun, your path, and the woods surrounding you.

You gasped when there came a sudden, horrendous, guttural screech in an echo, making it impossible to locate the origin; and suddenly, a force bodied into your side. It knocked you from your horse, but due to the sudden nature of the attack, also took your beast down with you.

You were lucky your leg didn't shatter on impact.

You heard Elrond scream your name; body hitting the dirt and rolling a few feet before being halting by a boulder. Your sight cleared, evened out, gasping again and shoving yourself against the jagged rock in an attempt to create distance when you saw the horrid, gangly creature made of pure, tangible darkness - pure evil - muddy and growling while surging towards you with gnashing teeth.

A sword decapitated the creature before it could reach you, making you flinch at the show of violence. Your name was spoken in a rush, but you couldn't comprehend hearing words yet; staring at the dead creature, twitching from the severed nervous system at your feet - spewing black blood. Your eyes caught sight of it splattered up your skirt.

Boots hit the ground, a pair of hands caressing both your cheeks and making you gasp in panic. But Elrond's worried face was in front of yours, speaking soothingly in Sindarin, "Easy, easy, be calm, it's me, my love, it's just me. I'm so sorry, but we have to go - now, my love, please, get up for me, come with me - "

"My Lord!"

"Elrond!"

Elrond was forced to stand over you and use his bloody blade to defend you both; choking back tears as you realized this was an ambush by Orcs, creatures of pure hate; something Middle-earth thought extinct after not having been seen in an age. And you were defenseless.

"NO!" You gasped when a hand came around your throat, hoisting back into the boulder; holding you in place as two Orcs ravaged your body for anything of value they could've taken. When they tried taking your wedding ring, you fought back harder - struggling in their putrid arms, sobbing, trying to stave them off. "ELROND!" You begged, gagging when the hand around your throat constricted to close your airway.

"Just cut the bloody thing off!"

You whimpered when you were overpowered, hand flattened to the rock forcefully; fingers spread, the Orcs snarling as a dagger was brandished and stabbed directly into the boulder through your pointer finger.

"Y/N!" Vorohil was heard struggling, your cries muffled from the lack of air and tight hand. The gem-glittering belt you wore was yanked from your waist just as the Orc holding you hostage was ripped away, making the other react by stabbing your lung with his dagger between your ribs.

After Elrond killed the first Orc, he instantly engaged the second; only Vorohil catching sight of you freezing before slowly collapsing against the boulder and sliding down it. He noted the smear of blood you left on the rock before the blade protruding from your ribcage.

You were in shock. The pain was insurmountable, yet you felt nothing at the same time. Numb. Confused. Overwhelmed. Paralyzed.

The fighting lasted several long minutes after that, your dress now properly saturated as you knew enough survival skills to not pull the blade free of an injury; it acted as a plug to keep the blood from pouring OUT of your body. You were left on the ground, slumped, weakly holding your wound and feeling unable to react when an Orc leered closer to you.

Elrond's blade emerged from the Orc's chest and was yanked free, the body dropping to reveal your husband; bloodied, panting, caught off guard, but obviously fairing well enough. He was in the heat of the moment, battle turning his blood hot, eyes catching something glittering in the mud and only thinking how out of place it looked. When he blinked, Elrond realized it was your wedding ring - complete with your severed finger still in it.

Elrond snatched the digit from the mud, eyes raking over you, needing to do a double look when he realized the extent of your injuries. Your finger was lost but your ring was secured in your husband's belt.

"No," he whimpered, rushing forward and dropping his sword to take hold of your cheek; blood gently leaking from your nose at a slow but steady pace. "No, no, no, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, stay with me, stay awake for me," he begged, sniffling emotion as his other hand laid over yours around the dagger's handle, "just let me see, let me see the damage, my love, c'mon, I've got you. I need to see to help."

You were too weak to fight him anyways, letting his muddy hand pry yours away to reveal the weeping wound. His eyes widened, nodding as he assessed the situation; wanting to get you out of here, but the Orcs weren't yet vanquished.

In fact, Elrond was tackled off you by another Orc, crying out when the momentum yanked the dagger free. Ironic timing, perhaps, because an injured Orc was clawing at your legs; biting at your flesh; making you grit your teeth, pick up the dagger, and drive it into the Orc's eye. You were relieved when the creature stopped moving; adrenaline instantly draining and making you slump back once more.

You didn't notice when the Orcs were fully killed off until Elrond was propping you up again, sprayed in blood and mud, tears in his warm brown eyes. "No, my starlight, no, you have to stay awake, you must," he reminded, getting one arm around you, the other first laying to your openly bleeding wound, then shoving the dead Orc off your legs. Elrond cursed in Sindarin when he noted the bite marks, how dirty nails left deep streaks after clawing up your body. "Please, stay awake," he hissed, cradling you into his chest before calling out, "Vorohil!"

"My Lord!"

"We need to get her to a healer - where? Where?" He begged, sniffling as you were shifted into his arms and lifted; few surviving horses being wrangled in.

"I don't - I don't know - "

"You are the cartographer!" Elrond snapped, "Tell me where to take her, where are we closest - !?"

"My Lord," Vorohil sighed, "t-the closest civilization to these parts is-is Khazad-dûm - "

"Hurry!" He barked, situating you sideways on his horse before swiftly mounting; settling you into his chest with a secure hold. The others were left in the dirt as Elrond spurred his steed onward, knowing the way to the Great Dwarven Kingdom of Khazad-dûm.

Upon arriving at the gates, he was a frenzied mess. Elrond doesn't even remember the procession of events; he just knows his men showed up at his flank, he was holding your limp body, begging for aid, and someway, somehow, was then lead into the Kingdom's healing quarters.

"Elrond?" A voice questioned softly, a few nurses and healers checking over the remaining company as you were laid on a surgical table. "Is tha'... You?"

He looked over, eyes void, dead, still splattered in the blood and grime of his enemies. "Durin," Elrond whispered.

"What happened?" The Dwarf Prince asked carefully, taking a slow step forward.

"We... We were..." Elrond looked back at you, hating how many healers surrounded you, "We were attacked - just less than a league from here."

"I see. Who... Who attacked you?"

"A pack of Orcs," he whispered, stumbling back into a wall as his breathing turned ragged, "while we were on the road."

"She's not breathing!" It was announced, Elrond sliding to the floor as horror struck his face. Panic seized his heart, short circuited his brain.

"Elrond?" Durin worried, Disa rushing into the room after him. "Hey? Can yah hear me?" The ginger asked, hand to Elrond's shoulder. "Elrond? Elrond, can yah - "

"I need help! Hold here! She's bleeding!"

"I can't see the wound - cut the corset!"

" - the finger's been lost - "

"She's got bruising on her neck, help me save her windpipe!"

Elrond's breathing became erratic, knees pulling into his chest as his men stood firm in support. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, Durin asking his name again, then, "Who is she?"

"M-My wife - she's my wife, Durin, she's my wife - "

"Okay, okay, okay," Durin comforted, kneeling to the ground at Elrond's side; keeping themselves separate as Disa neared them slowly. Durin shot her a look, silently saying 'close enough', and she stopped - heart aching for the devastation on the Elf's face.

"What's this? An Elf!?" Another Dwarf was heard barking.

"We do not deny aid!" A different Healer Dwarf barked, quickly shedding your dress and revealing your wounds to the room; making a few avert their eyes and hiss as ebony poison had taken to the veins around the wound.

"Do what needs done!" Durin barked, "To save her life! Use any means necessary!"

"You heard your Prince!"

"C'mon," Disa encouraged the Elves, "we should let the Healers work, we do not want to get in their way."

"Is there... Somewhere we can wait, nearby?" Vorohil asked nervously, glancing at you, who was being fussed over as blood splattered onto the ground; wound raging, blood covering your side as they seemed to aggravate the wound in order to clean it of the infection. "What if they need us?" Vorohil whispered.

"We have somewhere close-by for yah's," Disa assured. "Durin?" She asked, "Perhaps Elrond would like t'wait with us?"

"We'll be along," he agreed, knowing Elrond was like a rock in that moment. Disa lead the others away, leaving Durin to sigh and take a seat beside Elrond; just watching the Healers at work. "So, uh, how long yeh been married?"

"We... We sent you, um, a, uh..."

"Oh, right, yeah, yeah, of course. So... Only a couple months, then?"

"Seems like no time at all."

Durin chuckled, "Nah, two months in? You's two are still in that blissful state."

"And when it ends?"

"Oh, yeh'll see, married life becomes all yah know." Durin sighed, hating himself but needing to ask, "What happened to her, Elrond?"

The Elf shook his head, the tears never ending; suffocating him. "The horses," he managed to choke out.

"What of 'em?"

Elrond gulped. "They picked up on it first - that's what I noticed. They didn't want to go down the path, then this sort of darkness came... It was quick... It happened so quick, Durin, I did not - I did not see nor hear them. We were unprepared."

"What else?" Durin was unusually soft.

Elrond shook his head, "I got her on her horse, something didn't feel right. I thought - I just thought to get her out of there, get to safety - you know?"

"Just in case?"

"Yes. But the darkness - it brought them, let them move in the daylight. They tackled her from her horse - I tried to get to her. I swear, Durin, I tried, but it was all so fast - I didn't even see her get hurt. I just found her like that, holding on. What kind of husband can't even defend his own wife? By the end... She was... She wasn't..."

Elrond melted into sobs, folding in on himself, Durin's frown deep and concerning. Despite his own feelings of malcontent towards his old friend, he reached out and let his arm wrap around Elrond's neck. This allowed the Elf to lean into the Dwarf's neck and absolutely lose his shit. Not like anyone heard him, though; the Healers all yelling over one another as they rushed around in an effort to pull the blackened poison from your body.

You don't remember much. Just pain.

Then you remember voices. They were all around you, yet hazy; like you were underwater.

You remember smells - like alcohol and disinfectant.

You remember warmth in your hand; a weight, a constant presence that you squeezed when you felt ready to open your eyes. The twilight had passed, you were awake, a soothing voice cooing and encouraging you back into reality. It was just hard to pull yourself out of the tarpit your mind was seemingly lost in.

Upon regaining consciousness, you were greeted by Elrond's tearful expression of relief. "My love," he spoke clearly, "can you hear me?" You nodded, trying to open your mouth, but he rushed, "No, no, do not - don't do that, don't try to talk. Save your strength, please. You're okay." You nodded again, watching his watery smile warble before dissolving into sobs. "I thought you wouldn't make it," he admitted through his emotional breakdown, hovering close to you if only to feel your warmth and be assured that blood still pumped freely through your body.

"I had reason to come back," you whispered, earning a stony look of reprimand before he sighed and leaned in to kiss your forehead.

"Here, I have something for you," Elrond sniffled, reaching for his belt, "and I cannot keep it any longer." Your brows furrowed when your husband retrieved a bright gem, quickly realizing it was your wedding ring. Elrond saw your confusion, lifting your hand to place the ring on your pointer finger - making you lift the other, finding it bandaged with only four fingers. Your head snapped towards Elrond, but he begged, "Please, just rest, my star, you've been through enough - "

"What happened?" You demanded in a gravely voice.

"Do not - "

"Tell me."

Elrond sighed and situated himself at your side, careful not to jostle your form. "Well, first... We are in the Dwarven Kingdom of Khazad-dûm." He descended into the tale of how you lost your ring and obtained further injury, then rushed to get help, being reunited with Prince Durin, and ending on how you've been asleep for 'too long'.

You croaked, "I'd like to thank our hosts..."

"That can wait until you've rested longer. You've been unconscious for days."

"Then I've rested enough."

"I almost lost you," Elrond growled, "you will not move, not until you are cleared to do so. And I have the best authority to ensure you follow the rules."

You chuckled, "Oh?"

Elrond went to answer, but frowned in a panic when you started coughing from the dry prickle in your mouth and throat; quickly fetching the cup of water from the side stand. "Easy, my star, here, carefully, carefully," he whispered, holding the back of your neck, helping you sit up only slightly as to not irritate your abdomen, and tip the cup to your mouth to fill it with cold, fresh water.

"How's our patient doin' today, Elrond?" A voice asked cheerfully, "I'm tellin' yah, I can feel it, she'll be awake in no time, real soon, and then you'll actually sleep - "

"You have not slept!?" You asked sharply, looking to Elrond and noting the contradiction to his flesh; how pale he appeared with dark circles under his eyes, cheeks sunken.

Yes, Elves didn't need sleep like humans or Dwarves, but still, they needed some - and it was evident Elrond had none.

The Dwarf gasped and whirled around to spy you awake and conscious on the stony bed they had layered with fluff, furs, and blankets for your comfort. She dropped the tray of nutrients to another table, looking like she wanted to rush you. "You're awake!" She squealed.

"Disa - "

"DURIN!" She bellowed, hiking up her skirts and rushing from the room, "SHE'S AWKAE! DURIN! DUUURIN!"

You couldn't help the laughter that burst forth, wincing when your side seared in pain - making you choke on air. Elrond muttered to himself in Sindarin, finding a wet cloth and approaching your injury, carefully lifting the thin sheet covering you and peeling the bandage off. You heard Elrond hiss between his teeth, you trying to glance at the mark - but your husband would not let you. "Just stay still, my love," he whispered, "this won't take long, but it might sting - "

You grunted and whimpered when Elrond began soaking your wound; the cold water feeling nice in the hot infection, but making you squirm from discomfort. "Elrond," you begged, hand slapping to his wrist, "please."

"I know, but it needs cleaned - it won't hurt forever, my love."

"Oi," the Dwarf, Disa, snapped as she reentered the room, "get away from there, Elrond, go, go, go, shoo, let me through."

"Disa - "

"No," She now scolded Elrond, pushing him to stand straight and take the cloth from him, "your only job is to be a husband, not Healer - that's my job. You stand over there, hold her hand, and - DURIN!" She suddenly shouted towards the door, where a ginger Dwarf revealed himself sheepishly.

"Oh," you breathed in interest, trying to sit up a little, "Prince Durin, what an honor - "

"Oh, no, no, you don't, lassie, you lay back - just lay back."

"Listen to Disa, starlight," Elrond worried, both their hands reaching out to try to gently encourage you back down.

"It's customary to greet royalty on your feet - "

"Not in yer state, dearie," Disa comforted softly, patting your shoulder; Elrond gently caressing the top of your head. "Just rest - Durin will come to you," She shot her husband a look, who slowly entered the room.

"I just - I want to thank you, Prince Durin," you stuttered, wincing as Disa started tending to your wound again. "For saving me - or saving us, so I hear."

"Ah," Durin cleared his throat, nodding with pursed lips, "'twas nothing, uh, my Lady, we just... Couldn't say no to the state of things."

"Still. Thank you," you breathed. "And for your friendship to Elrond, it's been - "

"Starlight," Elrond quietly discouraged you with a small head shake, looking just as uncomfortable as the ruddy-faced Dwarf.

"What? What's wrong?" You asked, but neither man could meet your eyes. So, you looked to Disa, "What did I say?"

"Oh, you said nothin', dearie; 's just two stubborn mules refusin' to speak of the boulder in the room," she tisked with a small smirk.

"Do you think this boulder has to do with your absence from our wedding? I must admit, I allowed myself to feel excited, thinking we'd finally meet; and was entirely saddened by your lack of attendance."

"I know, sweetling, me too," she assured with a sigh, "but their boulder is truly suffocatin' - prevents them from speakin'."

"Oh-hhhh," you hitched the word to exaggerate, both your husbands stunned into silence by the quickly casual conversation, "so, like most men?"

"Mhm," she hummed sassily. "Friends for decades, Durin even considers Elrond a brother - "

" - So does Elrond - "

" - And yet, the fools cannot bear t'speak few words t'mend the bond! Oh, it's absolutely pigheaded!"

"What exactly needs mending?" You pondered softly. "I thought..." You looked over to see Elrond's head bowed, both hands resting in your single one; looking ashamed. "Elrond?" You asked, squeezing his hand.

"It's nothin' of note anymore, my Lady," Durin stepped in, making your suspicion grow, "just... A little, uh..."

"Distance," Elrond supplied finally, lifting his head and nodding, "our tension stems from a matter of distance."

"Hm," you noted, turning to Disa - who was already offering you a tired, pointed look. "What do you know of this boulder?"

"Oh, aye, it's distance," she nodded, frowning, "some... 20 years of it? Or just about."

"Has it been only 20?" Elrond questioned softly, looking earnestly to his friend; who stiffly looked away, but you saw the cracks in the ginger's foundation.

"'Only'?" You repeated, Disa sending her husband a look. "Prince Durin, my Princess, you must forgive my husband - he can forget how... Long life is. 20 years is a mere blink to an Elf, but to the other races, Elrond, it's a lifetime."

"I did not mean to offend," Elrond told you.

"I know, love, but you speak to the wrong person - I am not the one who deserves to hear your apologies," you said, pointing at Durin with your wedding ring firmly in place.

Elrond agreed and turned to his friend, admitting, "I'm sorry for the offense I've caused. I did not realize so much time had passed." Durin scoffed, Disa growling his name. "Is there more I've done? I do not understand, I have missed my friend - "

"Missed!? Yah missed my weddin'!" Durin snarled in a shout, your head resting on the pillow under your head and deflating in pain as Disa worked to fix one of the stitches.

"You missed ours - "

"And the birth of my children! Two of 'em!" Durin tacked on. "You cannot barge into my mountain and demand I welcome you with open arms! You cannot claim that which you discarded! I did yah this favor because of the obvious threat to life, and I comforted you in the wake of yer wife's injury! I ignored my own woes and bygones because that was the decent thing t'do! I mean," he chuckled without humor, "even when yeh wrong me and refuse to even take ownership - accountability - for yer wrongdoings, I still comfort yah!"

"'Discarded'? 'Refuse to take'..." Elrond repeated, "Durin, I - "

"It's as yer wife said!" Durin growled, "20 years might be the blink of an eye to an Elf... But I've lived an entire life in that time!" Emotion caked Durin's tone. "A life you missed! So, yeah, yeh know what? We missed yer weddin', yeah... But you've missed the past 20 years..." There came an awkward sort of silence, the group stewing in their tension. The Dwarven Prince scoffed a couple times as Elrond processed his words, asking with attitude, "So what do yah have t'say to that... 'Friend'?"

You smirked gently as Elrond did not respond, instead slowly approaching his friend as if a skittish, injured deer. Slowly, in a fluid movement, Elrond laid his hand to Durin's shoulder, squeezing as he spoke with sincerity, "Congratulations." Disa laid her hand in your bandaged one, both smiling as she paused her cleaning session to watch and listen. "On your wife, your children," Elrond elaborated. He slowly retracted his hand, "And thank you for your help, the aid that saved my wife's life. Thank you for comforting me, too; I hope you can come to forgive me."

You cleared your throat, the two turning to find their wives watching them smugly. "I think you might owe someone else an apology, my love," you whispered.

"Disa - "

"Don't even," she beamed, "yer already forgiven."

"Ah, don't let him off easy," Durin grumbled.

"His wife almost died in front of him, I think that's reparation enough."

Durin paused for a long moment, then nodded, "Yeah, all right, fair enough."

"Now," Disa announced, standing, "I think the Lady's wound is as good as it'll get for now - it's up to you for the rest of the healing," she patted your shoulder.

"On the morrow, we shall - "

"Oh, no, you mistake me," Disa smirked to Elrond, "there's no leavin' yet. She's not ready - she can't sit on a horse, one awkward bump on the road and she'll pop a stitch, start bleeding, risk worse infection - "

"How long?" Elrond worried, magnetized to your side again with one hand in yours, the other caressing the top of your head to stroke your hair in calming motions.

"Just a few days, until the stitches come out," Disa assured. "Yeh'll stay with us!"

"No, they will not," Durin argued.

"They're staying."

"They're leaving."

"They're staying!" Disa scolded her husband, who huffed and shook his head before pacing in a circle. "Now, yeh wanna try t'move around a bit, love?"

"Please," you begged, "losing my mind just sittin' here."

"All right, just be careful - your legs took a beatin', too. Them buggers got you good with their teeth - easy, easy, there's a good girl." Once on your feet and both hands in Disa's, she distracted you from the pain by asking, "So, go on, lass, tell us 'bout yer weddin', hmm?"

You chuckled, stumbling a little into her arms before rightening yourself while answering, "Oh, it was lovely. 'M pretty sure my best friend hooked up with the High King, too."

"No!"

"I know! I knew the King wanted the party of the century, but there's other ways to achieve such status."

Durin snickered, thinking Elrond looked like he was going to have a stroke as Disa helped guide you around the room to earn your bearings. Behind you, Durin's hand held Elrond's shoulder to keep him in place; letting Disa assist you as the two men appreciated the obvious relationship blooming before them.

And years from now, when your daughter rescued the Ring Bearing Hobbit, Frodo Baggins, your husband would heal him; a direct result after nearly losing your life that caused him to study the art.

part one: Match Made in Grey Haven

requesting rules and masterlist

TROP masterlist

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Just a cute, fluffy fic from Wayne's pov

💞

"Hey Wayne, how do you know you're in love?" Eddie asks him as they eat dinner that night. Wayne nearly choked on the pasta he was eating but covered himself by gulping down some coffee.

Shit, he needs something a little stronger for this, like when he had the talk with Eddie a few years ago, that was awkward as hell for the both of them.

Fortunately for Wayne's heart, Eddie kept his love life a secret. There were a couple people that weren't serious, but that's as far as Wayne knew. Eddie asking about love, though? This was new.

"I haven't got time for falling in love, Uncle Wayne, I have way too much shit to worry about, and it's a bunch of bullshit anyway", were the words of Eddie just a year ago.

Wayne knew his nephew craved love but at the same time viewed it cynically, so whoever this person was must be special to change his views.

"Why'd you ask boy?" Eddie's cheeks turn pink and he shrugs, gulps down the warm coffee and almost scalds his tongue. "Ahh shit!" his eyes widen when there's a knock on the trailer door, and Wayne gets up to answer it; he knows who it is even before he answers.

You're standing on the step, a D&D book tucked under your arm, smiling at Wayne with just a little bit of shyness this time which was an improvement.

You hurry inside and tell Eddie you'll set the books up in his room.

For six months, you'd been visiting the new trailer (all paid for by the government, so no questions were asked about the old one), and it took a while for you to relax around him; now that you did, it was like your second home and Wayne was used to you being here.

You had been visiting on your own, but sometimes with Harrington and Dustin, Wayne doesn't know what went on during Spring Break, just that Eddie was injured during the earthquake, and you were there for him every step of the way.

His wounds had healed but left scars, and sometimes Eddie woke up screaming after horrendous nightmares, not when you were around, though. When you were around it helped Eddie, helped the both of you work towards healing.

The fact that both of you were obviously falling head over heels in love with each other, is something that Wayne has kept quiet about, waiting until Eddie approached him about it.

Today was the day.

Wayne smiles gruffly. "This about your girl?" he nods to you as you head into Eddie's room and Eddie's cheeks darken even more.

"Yeah, yeah it is. She's amazing, isn't she, Wayne?" he enthuses; I just wanted to ask. How do you know it's love? I mean shit, I uh look at her, and she feels like home, and I don't want to be with anyone else ever; I feel like I can be myself around her, and she'd never judge me; she makes me tongue-tied and my heart races and she's so distracting and I... I'm in love with her" he sighs content then looks up at Wayne panicked.

"Shit, I don't even know if she feels the same?" Wayne sighs, he adores his nephew, but the boy is completely oblivious at times.

"Son, she looks at you like you hung the moon so why don't you quit horsing around and ask her out" Eddie looks like all of his Christmases have come at once.

"You really think so?" He asks hopefully and his eyes light up when Wayne nods. "Maybe I will talk to her then" Wayne then proceeds to watch his nephew practically melt at the sight of you; that was something that so very rarely happened with Eddie, so he was completely smitten.

Here's hoping that he did pluck up the courage to talk to you.

❤️

It's late when Wayne comes home from work; the TV is on, so Eddie is still up, and Wayne would bet that you're here too.

Wayne sees the two of you giggling together, holding hands and exchanging kisses, there's a big soppy smile on Eddie's face and he only has eyes for you.

About damn time. Also, Hopper owes him a glass of his best scotch so he will make sure to collect that too.

💞

[kwanisms]

Kinktober 「10:28」 — k.soonyoung

» seventeen menu | hoshi menu | kinktober masterlist «

➮ weretiger!Soonyoung × fem!Reader wc: 3.3k summary: Normally during his heat, Soonyoung stays as far away from his girlfriend as he can for fear of scaring her away but he can’t help himself when she comes by to drop some soup off seeing as he told her he’s sick. genres/themes/au: smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, supernatural and horror themes, mentions of: food consumption, cat anatomy; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! kinktober taglist is CLOSED! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.  MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: sorry for skipping two days in a row. I will be tacking those on at the end of Kinktober just like the others I missed so don’t worry. Jisung’s I just lost track of time and Christian’s fell on game day and I didn’t even realize it. I’ll get them done and added to the end of Kinktober, I promise lol anyway, here is our resident cult leader, Soonie and his tiger agenda. Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you thought and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), heat cycles, rough sex, unprotected sex (just don’t do this. Use protection lol), non-human genitalia (like yunho, Soon’s got a barbed d!ck because cat. Don’t like it, don’t read it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idc), scent marking (f receiving), biting (f receiving), use of pet names (hers: baby, kitten, beautiful, etc.; his: babe, Soonie, baby, etc.), I think i got all of them but let me know if I missed any! kinks: heat cycles + rough sex dialogue prompt: ❛❛ You heard me. Take. It. Off. Now. ❜❜

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“Kwon Soonyoung, I know you're home! Let me in, damn it!”

Soonyoung raised his head as he sat with his back against the door. He'd lost track of how long he'd been sitting there while you stood outside his apartment door, knocking, ringing the bell, demanding to be let in. He'd lost track of how many times he'd almost given.

Almost.

It's not that he didn't want to see you, he did. He wanted to see you more than anything, but he knew if he let you into his apartment, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from jumping you. Especially now that he could smell you.

It was always a rough time for him when he went into heat. Contrary to popular belief, it wasn't just female animals that went into heat, males also went into heat too and as a weretiger, Soonyoung was no exception. He'd spent most of his formative years dealing with it on his own and for a long time, he avoided being intimate with anyone because of the weird physiological changes to his body.

Unlike many werecreatures, Soonyoung's curse was a generational one and he was not bitten or scratched. His was passed from father to son and inherited by blood. The changes lay dormant until a boy started to go through puberty. By the time he was 18, Soonyoung had gone through just under two hundred and thirty full moon transformations.

And now, at twenty eight years of age, he'd been through over three hundred and fifty transformations. His heat always came the week leading up to the full moon. He was always consumed with an insatiable need to fuck something and he was very good at holding himself back.

Until you came along.

The sweet, caring, and unsuspecting girl who lived across the courtyard from him in the same apartment as him but on the other side of the complex. From his balcony, Soonyoung could see your balcony and the windows that looked into your apartment. 

You kept an assortment of potted plants on your balcony and had installed some sort of netting or mesh to sort of close in the area which made sense because as soon as it went up, he saw an orange tabby cat lounging at the top of a cat tree.

Know you liked cats gave Soonyoung the drive to talk to you the next time he saw you in the courtyard with what he thought was little success but his poorly executed joke still managed to make you laugh and get him your number.

From then on, he was hooked and the moment you invited him over for dinner, he was a goner. One date turned into two and then three and soon, he had the privilege of calling you his girlfriend.

You both maintained separate spaces in the building and he found it kind of cute, his girlfriend living across the courtyard from him. Your cats, which he learned there were actually two, were the sweetest creatures on earth and absolutely adored him. The girl, a white one with orange markings and long fur, was named Pad Thai and the boy, the short hair orange tabby, was named Cheezit. 

Soonyoung had taken to calling them his children and joked with his friends that you had full custody and he got visitations. It was a joke you took in stride and accepted fully, sending silly videos of the cats pretending to use your phone and making silly voices for them, speaking to their dad. It often made his day all that much brighter when he couldn’t come visit you.

Soonyoung had yet to tell you about his condition, only mentioning that he wasn’t like most guys, urging that he wasn’t just saying that and that it was a thousand percent true. He just hadn’t found the right time to tell you exactly how different he was. How does one even go about telling their partner that they’re a weretiger?

It was a conversation Soonyoung knew needed to happen but it just hadn’t yet. Which is why he was stuck in this situation now with you pounding on the door to be let in.

Soonyoung had started telling you that his once a month disappearance was just him coming down with something. He started with the usual excuses, the flu, the cold, stomach flu, even covid but he was starting to run out of excuses. He also hated using illness as an excuse because your immediate response was to offer to bring him medicine and food, usually in the form of soup, stew, or broth. He always gave the same excuse for not opening the door.

He didn’t want to get you sick.

At first, you took it as your boyfriend being cautious and caring but soon, you started to get suspicious and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep up the charade much longer. He was going to have to come clean and tell you the truth much sooner rather than later.

A conversation he had been dreading ever since asking you to be his girlfriend.

The wood behind him shook as another series of loud knocks rang out, no doubt you beating your fist against the door. “Kwon Soonyoung!” you shouted. He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut, as if it might make you leave faster. He felt awful. He hated ignoring you but in his mind, it was for the best when he was in heat. He couldn’t risk scaring you off and losing you.

Another series of knocks shook the door, which was surprising given your somewhat smaller stature. For one so little, you sure were strong. And loud. “Kwon Soonyoung! If you do not open this door right now, we are done!” 

Soonyoung’s eyes opened quickly and he turned his head to look back at the door. ‘She wouldn’t…’ he thought to himself. “I mean it, Soonyoung! If you don’t open this door, consider us through!” Something in your tone made him scramble up to his feet, hastily pulling at the locks separating you from him. He could tell you weren’t kidding.

He kept the chain on, opening the door only a few inches as he looked out into the hall at you. He held his breath as he took in your frame. You’d showered recently, he could smell the scent of your shampoo and body wash, mixing with your natural scent and making his cock twitch in his pants.

On your face was a furious expression and his heart sank immediately. If he had cat ears, this is where they would flatten back against his head in fear. You were terrifying when you were mad. He’d never been on the receiving end of your anger before nor had he really seen it in action.

“H-hey,” he stammered. His eyes dipped down to see the thermos in your hand that no doubt held a homemade soup, stew, or broth of some kind but he couldn’t be sure with how tightly the lid was screwed on nor with how overpowering your scent was.

“Don’t you hey me,” you said, your eyes narrowing at him. “Open the door and let me in.” Soonyoung grimaced. He wanted more than anything to let you in but he knew if he did, there was no telling how he’d react to having you so close when he was aching, burning, to be touched. It wasn’t a good idea on many levels.

“I don’t wanna get you sick,” he murmured, keeping his voice low. You scoffed, placing a hand on your hip and looking every bit the sassy girlfriend he knew and loved. “Don’t try that bullshit with me,” you snapped. “I know you aren’t sick,” you added. Soonyoung’s eyes widened as he looked up from the thermos in your hand to meet your hardened gaze. “Wh-what?” he breathed. 

“I spoke to Jihoon,” you started to explain. “He told me the truth.” Soonyoung’s stomach sank as the realization that his best friend had outed him to you. ‘Well fuck,’ he thought. It looked like he was going to have to have a talk with Jihoon.

“So let me in. We need to talk.” Soonyoung sighed and closed the door, undoing the chain before pulling the door open for you to enter his apartment. He shut the door behind you and prepared for the storm.

You didn’t unload on him immediately, instead sliding your shoes off and walking towards the kitchen where you set the thermos down. He followed, hands tucked in his pockets as he watched you move around his kitchen, pulling out a bowl and a spoon from their resting places.

You placed the bowl down next to the thermos and unscrewed the lid silently, pouring out a very hearty looking stew. It smelled amazing, the scent of meat, herbs, and potatoes invading his senses. “Jihoon said you aren’t exactly sick. Just that during this time, you don’t feel well,” you said as you finished pouring the hot stew into the bowl, setting the thermos down and pushing the bowl towards your boyfriend, holding out the spoon.

Soonyoung glanced at the spoon and the bowl before looking at you. “Here’s what’s going to happen.” you said leaning over the counter. Soonyoung’s eyes dipped down to your chest, the curve of your breast visible down your shirt from where he stood. “You’re going to take the damn spoon and eat while I talk. Sound good?” 

Soonyoung nodded, moving to sit at the kitchen island and grabbing the spoon from your hand. The moment your skin met, electricity and heat spread throughout his body, the urge to pounce on you from across the counter trying to take the reins but he managed to push it down and simply started eating.

You watched him take a few bites before speaking.

“I know you’re a weretiger,” you said softly, drawing his attention as he looked up at you, his mouth full of bits of beef and potatoes. “Jihoon told me everything. I will admit I’m a little shocked you didn’t tell me all of this but I can’t imagine it’s an easy subject to bring up so I’ll give you a pass there,” you explained. “That being said, I wish you would have just told me the truth. Did you think I would judge you? Did you think I would leave or break up with you?” 

Soonyoung swallowed the food in his mouth before speaking. “I didn’t know what to expect, actually,” he answered truthfully. “I was less scared about you finding out about me being a weretiger and more scared that I—” he hesitated, looking down at his bowl of food. You followed his gaze. “Finish eating,” you told him. “I have more to say anyway.

By the time Soonyoung had finished his bowl of stew and ate another at your insistence, you were sitting on the couch, Soonyoung resting over your legs as he hugged around your waist, his face buried in your stomach, a deep rumbling emanating from his chest as he purred happily. You stroked his hair, massaging his scalp with your finger tips.

“This is nice,” you said softly as you combed your fingers through his hair. “Mhm,” Soonyoung hummed. Silence fell over the two of you for a few minutes before you couldn’t stop yourself from asking a question that was at the forefront of your mind.

“Soonie,” you said softly, gently tugging at his hair. “Hmm?” he asked, not lifting his head or opening his eyes. “Can I ask you what you meant earlier about being scared?” You felt him stiffen under your touch before he finally lifted his head, looking up at you. “Wh-what about it?” he asked.

You brushed his hair back from his forehead, cupping his cheek at the same time. “What are you scared of, babe?” Soonyoung took a deep breath before pulling himself up to sit. “I’m scared of frightening you,” he finally answered, glancing at your hand before reaching over to take it in his.

“Of frightening me? How would you frighten me?” you asked, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. Soonyoung looked down at your joined hands before speaking. “You know how when we’re intimate?” he asked softly, not looking up as you nodded. “Yes,” you replied, a small smile on your lips. “Well, when the week of the full moon approaches, I start to… change,” he continued.

“My body starts to change.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes as your smile spread. “Is this about your heat?” you asked nonchalantly. Soonyoung’s eyes widened as his gaze snapped up to meet yours. “Y-you know about that?” he asked incredulously. You nodded, your smile only growing. “You think I’m going to learn that my boyfriend is a weretiger and not look up what all of that entails? I know everything, baby. Your heat, your transformation cycle, all of it. I also know your curse is familial and not transferred by bites or scratches. Jihoon told me that part though,” you said, reaching up to brush his hair back again.

“And I already know what happens to your cock, so there’s no need to explain that to me.”

Soonyoung’s eyes widened comically. “I learned that on my own by reading. Jihoon did not inform me of that part,” you added, reaching up to bop the end of his nose with the tip of your finger. “I know all about the sexual changes, the heat cycle, the penile spines, copulation, all of it. I know everything.”

Soonyoung wasn’t sure whether he should be impressed, alarmed, or relieved. He felt a mixture of all three as he sat there on his couch with you. “Do you also know about the insatiable urge I have to be buried inside you whenever you’re around?” he asked, noticing how your eyes widened slightly. “No,” you answered softly before a smirk started to form.

“But now I do.”

Soonyoung could feel heat creeping up his neck towards his face at the same time heat settled in the pit of his stomach. A new smell invaded his nostrils. The smell of arousal but it wasn’t his own. He glanced down quickly before looking back up. “Can you smell me?” you asked, tilting your head to the side, the smirk still present on your face. He nodded slowly, holding your gaze.

You leaned back against the arm of the couch, spreading your legs slightly. Soonyoung’s eyes fluttered shut as the scent hit him stronger. He could feel his cock painfully hard in his pants. “Baby,” Soonyoung said softly as a shiver ran up his spine, that insatiable need to bury his cock inside your warm cunt starting to take over. “If you don’t stop me,” he continued, opening his eyes to meet your gaze.

“I won’t be able to stop myself. I’ll…” he trailed off as your hands moved, sliding down your body. “I don’t know what I’ll do,” he said, swallowing thickly as his eyes followed your hands. “Maybe that’s what I want,” you said softly. “Maybe I want you to pounce on me.”

Soonyoung turned his head, averting his gaze as he tried to steady his erratic breathing. He felt the couch move and then your hand under his chin, turning his head to face you. “Don’t look away from me,” you said in a low voice. “I don’t want to hurt you,” Soonyoung whispered, reaching up to cup your cheek. “I promise you won’t,” you replied, leaning into his touch.

“I want you to let it take control. You need this,” you continued, taking one of his hands and guiding it between your thighs, pressing his fingers against your cloth covered crotch. “Pin me down, Soonie. Fuck me like I know you want to.”

Soonyoung let out a sound between a moan and a growl as he closed the distance,  the hand on your cheek sliding to the back of your neck to pull you into a bruising kiss, his tongue immediately sliding into your mouth. You moaned as he pushed you back onto the couch, pinning you down with his weight alone. 

You could feel his erection in his pants press against you, rutting slightly. “I don’t think I can wait,” he murmured against your lips, hands moving to pull at your shorts. “Then don’t,” you urged as he pulled back, fingers working to undo the tie of your shorts. He made quick work of them, pulling them and your panties off. “Shirt off,” he grumbled as he pulled his own off.

You watched him instead as he undid his pants. He glanced up at you. “What’re you doing?” he asked, his hands stilling. “I’m watching you,” you replied. “He glanced down at your shirt. “Shirt. Off,” he repeated. “What?” you asked, feigning ignorance. “You heard me,” Soonyoung growled as he stared you down. “Take. It. Off. Now.” 

You let out a giggle before complying, pulling your shirt off as he resumed undoing his pants and pushing them down, kicking them off before leaning over you, lips kissing a path up your chest to your neck. “Turn over,” he whispered in your ear.

You did as he asked, rolling over onto your stomach as he leaned over your back. You felt him rub his cheek against your shoulder. “What are you doing?” you asked with a chuckle. “Marking you,” he replied simply. “Don’t worry about it,” he added as he grabbed one of the pillows and guided you to lift your hips, placing the pillow under you.

With your hips raised, he guided the head of his cock to your slit, gathering your arousal on the tip before starting to push into you with a guttural moan. You gasped as he stretched you, the spines on his cock creating a rough but not entirely unpleasant texture as he bottomed out.

“Oh shit,” you gasped as he pulled back, the spikes raking your walls slightly. He thrusted into you harshly and you cried out. Soonyoung leaned over your back, covering your mouth with his hand. “The neighbors will complain, kitten,” he whispered in your ear. “You have to be quiet.”

He gave you another harsh thrust, slamming into you roughly as he set a brutal and unrelenting pace. “Is it too much?” he asked breathlessly. You shook your head, biting into your bottom lip to keep from screaming out in pleasure. You couldn’t hold back when you felt his teeth sink into your shoulder. “Fuck, sorry baby,” he panted as he pounded into you.

“S’okay,” you gasped, walls spasming around him as he send you hurtling towards your orgasm which hit you, the strength making your legs shake as he continued to fuck you through it. “Are you okay?” he groaned as your cunt continued to flutter around his cock. You nodded in response. “Y-yes,” you gasped. “I’m – ah! – M’fine — oh god, Soonyoung!”

A second orgasm washed over you and still he kept thrusting, not showing any signs of slowing down. You knew by the end of it you were going to be a bruised, panting, sticky mess but you couldn’t be bothered to care now that he wasn’t holding back and showing you a new side to him you’d never experienced. As he sent you toppling over the edge of your third orgasm, he finally came without warning as he sank his teeth into your shoulder again as his load exploded inside you, painting your walls in his sticky white essence.

“Fuck!” he growled as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “Sorry,” he murmured, pressing wet kissing against your skin. “Didn’t mean to yell in your ear.” You merely chuckled as you shook your head. “It’s fine, babe,” you replied. “Was I too rough?” he asked suddenly and again you answered with a shake of your head. “No,” you answered. “That was great. In fact,” you said as you lifted your head.

“I’m coming over more often to help with your heat if it means you’ll fuck me like that.”

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.

[tender-rosiey]

horns — neuvillette x f!reader

a/n: i gotta work on wriothesley's

“papa!” your little girl coos, reaching out for her dad’s horns. her little hands hold them delicately as she kicks her legs and giggles.

she is so occupied by her dad that she notice you putting down a tray of her favorite cookies. you smile at her before leaning towards your husband.

“looks like someone else likes your horns as much as I do,” you tease neuvillette who’s busy smiling fondly at his little girl, before he looks up at you.

your arms are wrapped around his shoulders from behind. the hold you have on him is so comforting, so light and he can't help how his eyes soften and body further relaxes.

tenderness swim in his eyes, and he looks down at her again, “she looks just like you,” he sighs in contentment, “I couldn’t be happier.”

your heart clenches and you cup his face to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

from the corner of your eyes, you notice your daughter repeatedly patting her head. a look of worry instantly appears on your husband’s face, “d/n, are you alright? what’s the matter?”

your daughter frowns lightly when she taps the top of her head with her two hands once more. she grabs a bit of her hair, but, apparently, she doesn’t find what she is looking for.

her lips jut out as she points at your husband’s horns, “pa?”

he hums in confusion then looks at you, hoping that with motherly super powers, you can understand her.

a few beats pass by before it clicks in your head, and you start smothering her face in kisses, “oh you absolute cutie!” she squeals as she drowns in your affection, “don’t worry! you will get horns and look just like your pretty papa in no time!”

neuvillette is a little puzzled, looking back and forth at your daughter then you. you smile before tapping his horns then tapping her head. he reaches out to hold her, and your girl practically throws herself at him.

he rests his cheek on the top of her head then he closes his eyes and presses a kiss to the top of her head, making her giggle. you sneak away to get a headband that’s been bought for this very moment.

you come back, said headband hidden behind your back, and you usher both your husband and your little girl in front of the mirror. neuvillette quietly sits with your little girl comfortably on his lap.

she stares at the mirror, until your husband starts to lightly bounce her on his legs. she squeals, putting her hands in her mouth then looking up at him, “pa!”

“okay, d/n, look at the mirror for a moment,” you say as you situate the headband on her head, “and voila!,” you kneel beside her, “see? you look just like papa!”

you don’t know who is more in awe, your daughter or your husband. the little girl is basically speechless, and your husband’s eyes have an endless stream of stars swimming in them.

“she does look like me,” he mutters, hold tightening just a tiny bit.

he lets out a breath, before bending slightly to gently rest his forehead on top of your daughter’s little head. he smiles softly, “I am…happy.”

he turns to you, eyes full fondness and love, “thank you.”

you think the bright clear weather that day was no coincidence.

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[ellecdc]

A Man With A Plan.3

prologue // p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8

Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader - Hogwarts Era (no Voldemort) - Soulmate AU

CW: Remus being a d-bag, I'm sorry. Drinking and drunkenness. Mention of smoking. Mention of sexual encounters/hooking up.

Remus was good at quite a few things. Two of those things happened to be thinking and planning. So, he could think this through, and make a plan.

First, here was what he knows:

He was a werewolf 

As a werewolf, he turned into The Wolf once a month

As a werewolf, he had a particularly strong magical ability

Apparently, The Wolf had a soulmate 

It sounded kind of grim, he couldn’t lie. So where did he go from here? 

He really didn’t think pursuing anything with you was a good idea. What if it was only the Moony part of him who liked you? He felt like the choice of any future partner (which he never planned to have thank you very much) had been taken from him; this fate and destiny bullshit was taking away his free will. 

He hated that.

And how selfish would it be to allow himself this because... what? Because it would comfort The Wolf? Because there’s a small chance you could bring comfort to him? Because Moony wanted you?

He felt disgustingly primitive: a wolf picking a mate - this was the closest Remus ever truly felt to a beast. 

And how could he do that to you? How could he look you in the eye and ask you to put aside any potential fear and prejudice to allow him to keep you to himself? How could he damn you to a life of full-moons and prejudice and hard times? What kind of man would that make him?

A selfish one. A cruel one.

He couldn’t, he wouldn’t. 

Unfortunately for him, this also meant he couldn’t tell his friends. Namely, he couldn’t tell James.

James was a hopeless romantic – obviously, who else would hopelessly pine over the same bird for seven years if they weren’t? Not only that, but he also had this unrelenting need to make sure everyone was as happy as humanly possible at any given moment. James sometimes looked at Remus like he hung the moon – pun intended – and felt Remus was harder on himself than he ought to be. But James didn’t understand; it was dangerous to be close to Remus. Remus was dangerous.

And he wouldn’t understand Remus’ decision in not pursuing anything with you.

He couldn’t keep something like this from only one of his friends, which meant he wouldn’t be able to tell Sirius or Peter either. Which was probably just as well, seeing as Sirius would relentlessly torment him for it and Peter worried enough about the lot of them.

So, his new plan was: keep this from his friends, and get the hell over you. Simple, right?

Wrong. 

Remus had already tried avoidance (as seen last week) which was obviously a complete bust. So, he planned to try exposure therapy – he would spend time around you hoping to desensitize himself (or Moony) to your proximity. 

Exposure therapy was bliss and torture. 

It was as if Remus’ senses were hyper focused on you. When you were around, he couldn’t pay attention to anything other than you. When Sirius was telling a grandiose story about the last quidditch game, he couldn’t help but notice you shift in your seat. Why did you shift? Were you uncomfortable? Were you cold? Was your leg falling asleep? Were you – god forbid – moving closer to Sirius?

Sod off, you git. 

If you so much as interjected in a conversation, Remus wanted to chase your words and beg you for more. Did your father really own a quidditch ball set from the 1600’s? Where did he get the set? Were you with him when he bought it? Is your father kind to you?

He also spent each conversation you were part of hyper focused on the people around you as well. Were they paying attention to you when you spoke? Were they being kind to you? Were they standing too close?

Fuckin’ hell.

So, Remus needed to make a new plan.

Find a distraction.

Said distraction came in the form of one Amelia Bones. She was a nice enough girl and not a bad lay – she and Remus had fooled around in the past before, but he ended their arrangement when she started to get a little too interested in Remus for his liking. He had a plan, dammit - rules: sex was fine, feelings were not!

But Remus Lupin was a desperate man, and desperate times called for desperate measures. 

Desperation, it appeared, was not a good look for Remus. 

Sirius Black was a bastard. He knew this, his friends knew this, everyone in Hogwarts knew this. He wasn’t necessarily proud of the title, but everyone needed to be known for something, right?

And it’s not like he wasn’t honest about his bastardness and debauchery – he never pretended to be anything but himself.

What he couldn’t understand was where Remus was pulling his bastardly behaviour from, because Remus certainly wasn’t a bastard himself.

And Sirius would know...because of previously mentioned bastardness. 

Takes one to know one. 

Sirius knew who the other bastards at Hogwarts were – McLaggen was a bastard, Lockhart was a bastard, Prewett was a bastard (Fabian, not Gideon), and Marlene was a bastard before Meadows set her straight (well, not straight but...you get the point).

The point is that Remus is not a bastard.

So, what the fuck was his problem!?

Sirius, who (very selflessly, if you asked him) agreed to be the sober marauder for the night, was sat in an armchair watching a very drunk James challenge an adequately tipsy Peter to a game of muggle poker. Sirius didn’t know all of the rules, but he could tell by James’ over-the-top confidence that he was going to lose.

What was guaranteed to be a good show at James’ inevitable loss was interrupted when Sirius couldn't help but notice Remus leaning against the wall with one Amelia Bones caged between his arms.

Remus didn’t usually get drunk enough to make bad choices – but he had clearly been out of sorts for the past week or two, so Sirius supposed stranger things have happened.

Sirius may be a bastard, but he was a good friend.

“Hiya Moony, Amelia, pleasant evening?” He drawled as he swaggered his way over to save his friend from himself.

Amelia smiled shyly at him, but Remus shot him a glare.

“Don’t call me that.” He muttered.

Sirius fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Sorry Rem. Have you had any water yet tonight?”

“I’m fine, Sirius.”

Sirius smiled awkwardly as he looked between his ‘fine’ friend and the bad choice he was making. “You look it mate, just wanted to remind you to stay hydrated.”

“Got it. Thanks.” Remus responded shortly. 

“I’ll look after him, Sirius.” Amelia cooed as she ran a finger up the length of Remus’ forearm. Sirius watched Remus’ face, and it looked to him as if Remus was having to focus a little too hard on enjoying his present company.

“Rem, can I borrow you for a second?” Sirius asked as he took the lycanthrope’s arm and dragged him to the stairwell of the boy’s dormitories without waiting for a response. 

“Pads, sod off.” Remus slurred slightly as he tried to pull his arm away from Sirius. Sirius was well aware that Remus was more than strong enough to pull out of Sirius’ grasp, so he wasn’t completely unwilling to listen to his mate.

“What are you doing?” Sirius asked quietly.

“Trying to get laid, obviously?” Remus muttered as he looked anywhere other than at Sirius.

“With Bones? Really? Took you months to shake her off, you swore you were done with her. What’s this really about?” 

“Sirius, it’s really none of your business.” Remus spoke sharply.

Sirius felt his eyebrows furrow as he took in his friend. “What has gotten into you lately?”

“Just back off, okay?” Remus said with finality as he stalked back off the way they came. Sirius blew a frustrated breath and checked on Peter and James before heading to the astronomy tower for a smoke. 

Most of the party goers had left and Sirius had the unenviable task of trying to usher James Potter and Peter Pettigrew up to bed.

“She’s just so pretty, Pads.” James sighed as he leaned heavily against the railing so Sirius could pull Peter up the couple of steps he had managed to get James up so far.

“Sure is, Prongs.” He groaned as he sat Peter down and helped James up a few more steps before washing, rinsing, and repeating his actions.

“And have you smelt her?” He continued.

“I actually have, she smells quite – quite nice.” Peter commented with a hiccup.

“Oi, don’t go around smelling my missus there, Worms.” James slurred from his spot on the banister.

“It was on-on accident Prongs. She was teaching me and Dorcas how to play hangman.” He emphasized.

“Hangman?” James guffawed. 

“Right? It’s like, it’s like supposed to be a ki-kid’s game. But you slowly watch a man ha-hang himself if the other person can’t – if they can’t read your mind!” Peter screeched.

“Pipe down, Wormy.” Sirius grumbled. “You’re gonna wake the whole tower.”

“Well, that is not a game suitable for children.” James said solemnly. Peter agreed with emphatic head nods which threw him completely off balance and onto his ass. 

“Salazar’s saggy balls, Wormy.” Sirius groaned as he hoisted the boy and all but threw him into their dorm room.

Sirius wasn’t surprised but extremely perturbed to find Remus’ bed curtain already pulled shut. He put (wrestled) James into bed and had to threaten casting an incarcerous jinx at him if he didn’t stay tucked in before he could help Peter into his own bed. 

As Sirius got ready for bed, he leaned over to press his ear against Remus’ curtains – nothing – the bastard had cast a silencing charm. Sirius groaned as he pulled on his pyjamas and crawled into bed.

“Prongs, for fucks sake, what are you doing?” He said when his head hit the pillow which brought him face-to-face with James Potter.

“I missed you.” James said.

“If you were asleep in your bed, you wouldn’t have time to miss me.” Sirius grumbled.

James seemed to consider that for a moment. “I just think I’ll fall asleep easier here.” 

Sirius found he was far too exhausted for this.

“Fine, but if you throw up in my bed, I’m telling Evans about the time you shit yourself during a half marathon.”

Sirius nearly put his hand over James’ mouth to muffle his gasp/screech.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

“I told you that in confidence.”

“And I’m confident it’ll be good blackmail should I need it.”

The two stared each other down before James relented and muttered a petulant ‘fine’.

“Did you really shit yourself?” Peter whispered from across the room.

“Go to sleep, Wormy.” 

“Okay.”

Remus was in denial. He was sure of it. Though, was it really denial if he was aware he was denying the truth?

It was too early for this.

Amelia (finally) seemed to stir, and Remus tried not to grimace at the feeling of her naked skin pulling away from his own.

“Mm, good morning handsome.” She moaned in what Remus was sure she thought was alluring but all it did was make him eager to get to breakfast.

“Thanks for last night.” Remus said as he moved to sit up.

“Maybe we can catch up later?” Amelia asked as she stretched.

Remus winced at her hopeful tone. “Yeah, maybe.”

She seemed satisfied with his non-answer and kissed his cheek before she dressed and exited the dorm. Remus dressed as well before stepping out of his bed curtains.

“What in the buggering fuck was that?” James demanded.

“Jesus Christ. Didn’t you drink enough to take out a hippogriff last night? You should be comatose.” Remus muttered as he squinted at his friend. 

“What was Amelia Bones doing leaving our dorm room, Moony?” James demanded again.

“Prongs, don’t.”

“I don’t know what’s going on with you, or why you won’t talk to any of us about it, but you’re clearly crying out for help, so spill.” 

“I am not crying out for help, James. But I have been asking you to mind your fucking business!” Remus bellowed.

Peter was sat in his bed with his blankets pulled up looking like a child watching his parents’ fight.

“Fine.” James said quietly and he turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Remus closed his eyes and brought his hand to his hair before pulling roughly. 

“Pete why don’t you-” Sirius started, but he didn’t need to finish before Peter was agreeing with a quick ‘yup, I’ll go see where he went!’ and vacating the dorm room. 

The silence was near deafening when Sirius finally turned his fiery gaze to Remus. 

“Remus.”

“Sirius, please don’t st-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP.” Sirius shouted. His rumpled hair and the fact that he was still sitting under his covers did nothing to take away from the anger that permeated his being. “You’ve done enough talking, you listen now.”

Sirius moved to stand in the middle of the dorm room facing Remus like they were in a bad western stand-off.

“You have friends here who love you, regardless of whether you think you deserve it or not. Now, if you ask me, you’re not acting like someone who deserves it, but here we are.

“Now, I’m an arsehole, so if you wanna take out whatever prepubescent hormonal bullshit you’re going through right now on someone, I can take it. But you will not speak to James like that; got it?” 

Remus’ head was beyond throbbing at this point. He huffed a sigh and returned his gaze to Sirius. 

“I’m sorry.” He admitted quietly.

“I’m not the one you owe an apology.”

Remus nodded his head and pulled the book out from his trunk at the end of his bed before handing it to Sirius. 

“Page thirty-seven.” He said simply.

Sirius spared Remus a confused glance before taking the book and flipping it open to the dog-eared page.

Remus sat on his trunk with his head in his hands while Sirius read.

“Soulmate.” Sirius breathed out disbelievingly. 

Remus groaned in response.

“But... you have - who? Amelia!?” 

“No, not Amelia.” Remus groaned. “Sirius, I’m not joking, you cannot tell Prongs.”

Sirius’ face paled as his mouth dropped open. “Evans!?” He whispered in shock.

“What? No, for fucking, fuck, no!” He wanted to be swallowed up at this point. “It’s L/N.”

“L/N? The Ravenclaw? James’ new best friend? The odd little bird? Y/N?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Her. You can stop saying her name now.”

“Why? Does it hurt?”

“Sirius!”

Sirius raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Sorry.”

Sirius continued to flip through the pages as Remus' blood pressure returned to normal.

“What are you going to do?” 

Remus cut his friend a glare. “I’ve tried avoidance, I’ve tried exposure therapy, and now I’m trying distraction.”

Sirius’ eyebrows met in a grimace. “You’re using Bones to bone in an attempt to distract yourself from your soulmate?” 

Remus roughly scrubbed his hands across his face.

“I know, I know. But it’s the lesser of two evils.”

Sirius scoffed. “Sure, whatever you need to tell yourself.”

“Pads...”

“No! I don’t understand how ignoring the fact that you have a magical connection to someone and using someone else who we know would love to call you hers to do so can be considered a lesser evil; it's gross, Remus. Even I’m not that slimy, and I’m a Black.”

“It’s not a magical connection, Pads.” Remus muttered. “It’s Moony’s obsession.”

Sirius shook his head. “No. It’s long thought extinct magic at play. Did you ever think about the fact that while you’re denying this of yourself, you’re also denying this of her?” 

Remus shook his head sadly as he hung it low. “She doesn’t deserve this, Sirius.”

“Oh, come on,” Sirius groaned dramatically. “Not this martyr shit again.”

“Sirius, look,” Remus started as he stood from his place. “I come from nothing, we’re poor; and the opportunities for me after I leave this castle are slim to none in both the magical and muggle world. She comes from a pureblood family, and while they may not share all of the same values, you know how wizarding-kind view werewolves. Okay? I can’t offer her anything that she can’t find somewhere else. In fact, she’d probably be way better off with anyone other than me.” 

Sirius looked like he wanted to argue, but he seemed to decide against it.

“It’s for the best.” Remus stressed. 

Sirius didn’t seem to agree; neither did Moony.

Continue to chapter four here.

Taglist: @hanniejji, @y0urm0m12, @c0nsc10usworld, @aphrcdites, @starsval, @thepunisherfrankcastle, @anuncalledbridge, @unstablereader, @rai-strangebr,  @klazina-couch-potato, @cancelledkaley, @fandom-crashlanding, @ttulipwritezz, @boo8008, @daisiesformylove, @frostooo, @myriadmoons, @aremuslupinsimp, @simars3, @stargurl99, @dreamingofts18, @iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface, @agent-tempest, @xxrougefangxx, @serenadingtigers, @spidergirlmcu, @adhxmoony, @spokenfolks-blog, @hufflepufffangirlqueen

[admirxation]

彡 𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟓𝐭𝐡 - 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭

♡ 𝐬𝐮𝐦. The reader visits her favourite professor for another late night tryst (wc: 1.9k)

𝐜𝐰 — afab!reader x professor!Satoru Gojo. 18+ smut mdni, professor x student/power imbalance/the reader is consenting however lowkey dubcon due to power dynamics (don't fuck your professor, people!), dirty talk, fingering, nipple play, soft degradation, soft dom Gojo, squirting, unprotected sex, p in v, and cum -> you've been warned; continue at your own discretion.

You were the top student for your whole career in high school. That’s what everyone, fellow students and teachers, knew you for: top of the class, A-star on every exam, and many teachers expressing their praises, knowing you would be going far. So, when you heard those praises, university and a life of academia was the obvious next step, prepared to bask in praise from the professors; however, that wasn’t how it was going. 

You were soon humbled when you first sat in class and sat with other students who had received similar praise you had in high school; being next to them was intimidating. All your life, you had been called smart, but now, when you were thrown into a bigger sea of fish, you were feeling like the smallest of the lot; imposter syndrome soon seeping in and digging its claws into your psyche every time you heard somebody else answers a question, look at other people’s exam results, and just talking to them about how they were finding the content. These feelings were only confirmed when your latest exam was the lowest result you had ever received. 

When you first saw your percentage, the denial part of your brain felt like it should have been a mistake; you remembered, that night, how you scrolled through the portal and kept refreshing the page like somehow that was magically going to bump up the numbers, perhaps squinting and turning that D into an A through a long process of hope. Your heart further sank when you saw the feedback, constant question marks in sentences you had thought you made fantastic points in, constant ‘incorrect’, ‘what’, ‘I don’t follow’, and the dreaded ‘see me after class.’ You didn’t understand what you were doing wrong; you were listening to every word the professor was saying, asking for help from your friends and people in the group chat, and doing tons of research around the area, but applying it was something you felt like was a journey of impossibility.

Every lecture and class had become a battlefield, every student a new rival in your mind as you compare yourself to them; listening to them and how fluidly they could answer a question with sophisticated words you didn’t even know was in the English dictionary, and constantly hearing the voice in your head telling you: you’re too dumb to be here, quit while you still can. This just burnt. You had been ready for hard work, trials and tribulations, expecting burnout, but this? This felt like an endless cycle of being lost, like constantly reading a page and never being able to digest any of the words, constantly drowning in a feeling like you weren’t good enough. 

However, that low mark seemed to be a blessing in disguise in the most taboo way possible. You had been taught by everyone's favourite professor—Professor Satoru Gojo—and you were aware of how the girls felt about him. He had cliche written all over him, with that voice and tall body that made you feel engulfed underneath him; he was every college girl's dream, but he wasn’t interested in them; he found interest in you, the girl who couldn’t quite get the information, but found it so endearing that you kept pushing through. He liked a hard-working girl, and an insecure girl made it easier to pick you up from the slump and make you obsessed. 

It started with inviting you to his office, where he gave you honest, innocent assistance to make your essays better, and it worked; those D’s soon bumped into A’s, and you were above the moon when you finally felt like you were getting back on track to the academic validation, that had been your motivator for too long. However, you kept going to those office checkups. They soon snow-balled into affectionate meetings, starting when you were looking over an essay and his hand gripped onto your thigh, making a pooling warmth within your core develop. The rest was history, with constant weeks of meeting up with him and being his girl, and that was a new validation you sought for now.

Right now, you two were doing your favourite thing—with the door locked and the lights dimmed—with you half naked and sitting on his hard wooden desk, letting him treat you like his little toy. 

“Aahh, Gojo, d-don’t stop,” you whimpered out as you felt his warm tongue lap circles around your pebbled nipple, leaving occasional sucks and nibbles that coaxed out hissing pleasure to escape your lips. 

“You’re so sexy like this,” his slender and long digits remained working overtime as they plunged into your soaking and aching hole, making his cock harden against his trousers as he felt your glistening cunt convulse and suck him in further. “You like this, don’t you? Being touched by your professor, you like being my dirty girl, don’t you?”

His voice was smooth and tantalising, with effortless confidence and commanding tone that made your gummy insides clench around him, sucking him further into your cunt as your inner thighs started to shake; you were his, in every undertone of power he had accumulated, and you never wanted this to stop. Why would you? Why would you stop the constant series of ecstasy riding that made your eyes flutter, and your legs shake; he was your favourite indulgence now, and you weren’t going back when that rhythmic cadence of his voice and presence consumed you. It was electrifying to be wanted by him. 

“Yes, yes, ahh, aaah fuck,” you were interrupted by the plethora of panting and orgasms that kept protruding out of your glossy lips, “All yours, I love this.” You kept praising and surrendering yourself to him at your own volition, something some people would find embarrassing, but you didn’t care; they wouldn’t be able to understand how good Gojo made you feel and how connected you felt with him every time he made you close to your high. 

“That’s right, that’s my dirty girl, all mine,” he looked up at you while he was sucking on your hardened nipple with that teasing and arrogant smirk, “a naughty girl that likes to be used by her professor…. Hasn’t got a shred of respect, do you, darling?” 

“N-no, I-I’m completely yours,” you whimpered out through a quivering lip as you felt Gojo’s fingertips start to curl inside your convulsing walls. 

“Should I give you your favourite thing?” he hummed teasingly, “does my darling deserve that?” 

There was something so hypnotic about him, something that made constant tidal waves wash over you as every sense felt pleased when you were in Gojo’s presence. His validation and his attention were a constant fuel that you required, running on it like food and water; you needed him without fail. 

Gojo is too good at this, way too good at dirty talking, way too good at knowing what makes you whimper and fold or him, and way too good at fucking you stupid. You didn’t want to be with anyone else; it would feel like a constant disappointment to be with anyone else; you would just be constantly comparing them to how good Gojo made you feel, how he made you scream his name and made your clit throb with slick running down your slit, he was your dream that you were digging your heels into forever. He had you wrapped around his little finger. 

“Please, I’ve been a good girl; I-I want you, please,” you blabbed out like the pathetic girl you were underneath his touch, writhing and squirming underneath him as he finger fucked you on the desk. 

“You have been doing well on your tests; I’ll give you a treat.”

Your cheeks burned with a strawberry hue coming into the clarity of a blush, your heartbeat pounding against its ribbed chamber, and your dilated eyes widening as you watched the slow torture of him unzipping his pants in slow and deliberate movements, releasing a soft hum of pleasure and appreciation as your eyes cast down to his throbbing erection that had sprung out of its barrier, moaning as Gojo rubbed the reddened tip with pearled pre-cum against your wet folds, and teasing you more. 

He smirks, watching you grow more pathetic for him, the way your fingers clenched onto the edge of the desk and the way your toes curled in anticipation for his hardened cock to slip inside your dripping centre.

“Aw, does my girl want it?” he asked as he pinched the folds surrounding your clit, making a puffy squish around your sensitive bundle of nerves and making you gasp and writhe underneath him. 

“Y-yes, I want it so bad, please, sir.” 

“That’s my girl.” 

In one swift motion, he slipped his large length inside you, both of you releasing guttural groans as you felt his entrance and the way your cunt surrounded him and sucked him in further into that sweet spongy spot that would make you praise his name like a prayer lingering on your tongue.

His strong hands gripped onto the fat of your hips as he bucked his hips further to get balls deep into you, filling the room with the sounds of lewd and sensual moans, alongside the sound of skin slapping against the skin as his balls smacked your ass with every rhythmic sway of his hips.

“F-fuck, you’re so tight,” he hissed out a moan as he felt the hilt in your walls, “such a good little student, taking her professors cock so well,” he kissed your neck as he whispered dirty nothings into the shell of your ear, making you press your fingertips onto his shoulders the more he plunged  his hard cock further inside your spasming walls. 

He had such a way of making you feel adored and taken care of, even when he was dirty-talking you; you were completely mesmerised by the way he spoke and the way he sheathed his dick inside the hilt of your pussy; you never wanted to leave him. 

You let your vision slip away as he continued to leave a hot trail of kisses on the slope of your neck, holding your feminine frame close as he rocked his hips further into your hot centre; you two were so close as you felt the heat radiating off both of you, the way his breaths were broken in rhythmic tandem through the process of laboured breaths, and the way you thighs were trembling as you felt your core about to give up on its hold and let release be granted. 

Gojo continued to groan, letting the vibration against your skin take you on a travel that made you into a pathetic, melting puddle ready for him to clean up, holding onto his shoulders more as you tightly wrapped your arms around his neck and took in his captivating and enigmatic scent, his aroma filled your senses the more he kept fucking you stupid. There was something linen clean in his scent and a smoked cedar and sandalwood the more you travelled your fingers into his platinum white hair and wrapped your trembling and weak legs around him. 

“Aah, Gojo, I-I’m so close.”

“Me too, darling, me too, cum with me,” he hissed out, “I wanna feel you cum on the cock as I fill you up.” 

He knocked the wind out of you as you cried out in pleasure when he thrusted his hips in a final and punctuated movement, both of you crying out each other’s names as he filled your tight pussy up with his cloudy release. You let your gushing escape trickle down his pelvis and thigh. Both of you stared at each other in such bliss as you tried to catch your breath.

🏷️taglist: @wintrrxxo @bratbby333 @localkiss @styrofoamplat3s @imaniitheoneee -> if you want to be added check my pinned; if you want to be deleted just message me.

a/n: I know this is late but honestly I needed a day off from my self inflicted pain of 31 days this month lmao, I had reallyyy bad period cramps and migraines last night and I needed to write some more on this and I just couldn't so we are a day late but I doubt anyways cares lmao

[headkiss]

give you the moon

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: had you known getting your first tattoo would end up with you being in love with eddie munson, you might have gotten it a lot sooner.

word count: 17.8k

warnings: smut, probably inaccurate descriptions of tattooing processes (i tried my best!), strangers to friends to lovers, fluff

a/n: this one took forever but it’s finally done!!!! i’m sorry for the wait but hopefully u guys like it enough to forgive me :D

༄

You’ve always wanted a tattoo, and you figured now was as good a time as ever. Having just moved to Indianapolis, all by yourself, one change could lead to another.

New city, new apartment, new tattoo.

It may be irresponsible of you, but you settled for the first shop you found, the one closest to where you lived. A short walk away, harder to back out of. You knew you wouldn’t regret getting it, you just had to force yourself to sit through it, to commit.

The wind whips at your cheeks as you make your way to your consultation. You pull your sleeves over your hands and hope that it’ll be warm enough.

Once you’ve made it, the bell above the door rings to signify your entrance. A girl with brown curly hair sits at the front desk, a warm smile on her face. The place has dark floors, walls covered with different sketches that distract you for a moment.

“Hi! How can I help you?” The girl says, drawing your attention back to her. You walk the few steps up to the front desk.

“Hi, um, I’m here for a consultation,” you give her your name and the time of the appointment. “With Eddie.”

She shuffles about for a few seconds before finding what she was looking for, “yep, perfect. I’ll let him know you’re here. I’m Nancy, by the way.”

“Thanks, Nancy.”

She goes to the saloon type doors next to the desk, you watch them swing back and forth. You’re eventually drawn back to the art on the walls, eyes scanning the different styles and images. Your hands fidget with the ends of your sleeves.

A picture of the staff steals your attention next, Nancy standing next to a girl with shorter hair, their hands interlocked. Then, there’s a boy with brown hair and a kind smile. The one who really keeps you looking is the boy with long dark hair, his tattoos the most prominent.

A second later, that same boy is walking through the doors and calling your name.

“Oh, hi. That’s me,” you reply. Then wince at your awkwardness.

“Hi, I’m Eddie,” he gives you a close-mouthed smile, barely there. He’s even prettier in person than he is in that photo. “Follow me.”

He seems distant, sort of cold and you’re not quite sure what to do with it. Your nerves pick up even more.

He ushers you through the saloon doors, then through a room with three tattoo beds that’s filled with the buzzing of the machines and the other people from the picture and their clients. You end up in an office type room, certificates hang on the wall behind the desk.

Eddie takes a seat behind the desk that’s presumably his, papers scattered about and a cup overflowing with pens and pencils sitting atop of it. You stand by the door, shifting on your feet.

“You can have a seat,” he offers, gesturing to the chair facing him. He waits until you’re settled to continue. “So, is this your first tattoo?”

“Yes,” you feel nervous and you’re not sure if it’s the prospect of committing to the tattoo or if it’s the way Eddie’s gaze doesn’t move away from you.

“Well, I’m honored to be your first,” he winks, your heart stumbling at the innuendo. “So, what are we thinking?”

“The moon, on the back of my shoulder,” you pause, but he nods for you to keep going, to give more detail. “I wanted it to be a gibbous moon, almost full but not quite.”

“Alright. Got an idea for size?”

“Uh, kinda small. I think?” You huff, frustrated with your lack of an answer, “sorry I’m not so prepared.”

You stuff your hands under your thighs so that they’ll stop twisting in your lap. You cross your ankles and look down, slightly embarrassed at the way you’re acting in front of him. You were meant to grow in the city, to be better, but so far, not much has changed.

You don’t have friends, your job is slow, and you’re terrible with new people.

“‘S fine,” you think he’s being reassuring. “How’s this sound: we can try some circle stencils on for size now, then we’ll know for your appointment.”

“Okay. Thank you, Eddie.”

“‘Course. I’ll be right back.”

His exit gives you a couple of minutes to try and sort yourself out, to calm down. You want to be able to do this without the stumbles or hiccups that you’re so used to. You blow out a breath and wait for him to come back.

The way he carries himself confuses you, his almost detached nature making you overthink way too much. Although, he’s not being cruel or unkind, he’s just… you’re not sure if there’s a word to describe it.

He comes back with a couple of stencils, some sort of solution, a disposable razor, and paper towels.

“You’re gonna have to take your sweater off,” he says, setting everything down on the desk. When you don’t move to do so right away, he stares at you, waiting.

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

You slip off your sweater, your tank top underneath riding up ever so slightly with the movement. You pull it back down and set your discarded sweater on the chair behind you.

“Which shoulder?” He asks, putting on a pair of medical gloves and grabbing the razor.

“Here,” you slip the straps of both your shirt and your bra off the shoulder you choose, turning in the seat to face away from him so he’s able to do what he needs to.

He brushes your hair towards the front of your shoulder, clearing the spot he needs. He cleans off the area, then shaves it to make sure the stencil will stick, all in silence. He’s quick to apply it, his hands gentle and his breath hitting your skin in a way that has you shifting.

“Don’t move,” he chides quietly.

“Sorry.”

He doesn’t say anything more until he’s done, “okay. Have a look.”

There’s a mirror on one of the walls, and you walk over to get a good look at the size of the circle. You know it’s only the first one, but you think it’s perfect. It looks right and you’re excited to see it when it’s actually the design you want.

“I want this size,” you say, turning to face him.

“Are you sure? It’s only the first one.”

“I know, but it’s good. I like it.”

“I don’t want you changing your mind, okay?”

“I won’t! I’m sure, promise.”

He sighs, then wipes the stencil away and takes off the gloves with a snap. He takes his seat again as you put your sweater back on, goosebumps prickling your skin.

“When did you wanna book it for?” He asks.

“Whenever you’re free is fine, I’m not picky.” You don’t have anywhere else to be, really.

“You’re not the best at answering questions, huh?”

You think he’s trying to make a joke but all you manage to say is, “no, sorry.”

“You apologize a lot. You don’t have to,” he grabs something that looks like a planner then says, “I have a spot next week, if that works.”

Eddie tells you the specific day and time, and you tell him that it works. He hands you some papers to sign and read and bring back with you for next time. “Nancy will sort out payment and stuff at the desk. That’s it for today.”

“Okay. Thank you so much,” you make your way back to the front quickly, eager to go home and try and forget the entire interaction. He certainly wasn’t what you were expecting, and you didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. He was quiet, reserved, and hard to read, but he was good, you knew from the drawings in his office. He was also intriguing; a puzzle you wanted to solve.

You sort out everything with Nancy, who makes you feel a ton better about your consultation. “You look far too worried,” she says.

“I just don’t think he likes me very much.”

“No, trust me, that’s just Eddie. He’ll warm up to you, I’m sure.”

“I hope so. Anyway, thanks, Nancy.”

“See you,” she says as you walk out the door.

That night, you cuddle up and fall asleep thinking about Eddie and his demeanor, his warm hands on your skin.

-

He couldn’t get you out of his head, and that rarely happened to Eddie. He was used to meaningless things and he can’t remember the last time he felt anything for someone.

Not that he felt anything for you. You’d only met once.

Eddie spent the night after your consultation drawing way too many moons in his sketchbook, staining his hands with ink and pencil.

-

It’s two days later when you hear from Eddie again.

Your phone rings just as you’re about to shower before bed, the sun long gone though the city stays bright with lights. You hug your robe tighter around yourself and walk to where the phone hangs on the wall.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” an utterance of your name, a tone you recognize. “It’s Eddie… from Corroded Coffin Tattoos.”

“Of course! Hi, Eddie. Was there something wrong?”

“Oh, no. No,” he pauses, you hear him shuffling around on the other line. “I had a cancellation tomorrow and thought you might want the spot?”

You hate that the fact that he thought of you makes your stomach whirl. Of course, he could’ve called countless clients before you, but you like the idea that he dialed your number first better. You twist the phone cord in your fingers.

“That would be great. Thank you so much for thinking of me.”

If only you knew, he thinks. If only you knew how much he really did think of you—it was almost infuriating. How one person could have such an effect on him when he really doesn’t know them at all. He knows that you’re pretty, and you say ‘sorry’ far too much, and you smell really good, that’s all.

“Yeah. I’ll see you then.”

“Okay, see you-”

He hangs up before you can finish. You stare at the phone for a second after putting it back, wondering if that whole exchange truly happened, if you just dreamt up the whole thing. You pinch yourself until it hurts. You’re definitely awake.

You replay the conversation over and over, wondering why he hung up so abruptly, worrying about how you’re going to act tomorrow.

Eddie called you from his office, even though it was well past closing for the shop. He really needs to get himself together. He can’t be thinking so much about his client. About anyone, really. He can’t.

His head is resting in his arms when the door to his office opens. There’s only one person that never knocks and that’s Steve. He looks up and sees him leaning against the doorframe.

“Why are you still here, Steve?”

“Why are you still here?” He retorts.

“Got some stuff to do,” is all Eddie says.

“Your mood doesn’t have anything to do with the girl you just talked to on the phone, does it?”

Of all the people he could have been friends with, Steve was the most unlikely for Eddie, and yet here they are. Coworkers, and close friends. It’s almost annoying how quickly he can tell what exactly the issue is.

“I dunno. She won’t get out of my head,” Eddie shrugs, glancing down at the sketchbook he has opened on his desk, the one filled with drawings of your tattoo. “It’s annoying.”

“That’s a lot of moons, man,” Steve says as he walks closer.

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying. Maybe this is a good thing. I haven’t seen you with a girlfriend, like, ever.”

“Who said anything about a girlfriend?”

No, if anything, Eddie’s eager to get your appointment over with, to get you out of his head for good.

“Yeah, okay. Can't wait to say ‘I told you so.’ You know it won’t hurt to open up a little, man.”

Steve means well, Eddie knows he does, but the thing is it does hurt him. Or, it used to. He was used to being judged, someone the town saw as a character rather than a human. The best thing he ever did was move away, but that doesn’t mean he left the hurt behind, too.

-

You show up about fifteen minutes early for the appointment. You gave yourself far too much time, you think, because now you just have to sit and wait and the anticipation is making you more nervous the longer it goes.

The front desk was being manned by a different person today, “hi! I’m Robin, how are you?”

She talks quickly and with enthusiasm, like every word is exciting and important. You like her already.

“Hi, I’m good, thanks. I have an appointment with Eddie,” she nods in confirmation, looking down at the schedule in front of her. “I’m a little early though so… no rush.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, gives us more time to sort out the paperwork and stuff. He’s just finishing up with someone else so it won’t be too long.” She smiles at you.

“Here, I have these from my consultation,” you hand her the pages Eddie had given you to sign. You chew at the inside of your cheek as she reads over them hoping you filled everything out correctly.

“That’s great! I’ll just go tell him you’re here,” she goes through the familiar saloon doors, the buzzing of tattoo guns and light conversations slipping through.

When she comes back she informs you that he’s only going to be a couple more minutes, and instead of telling you to go take a seat, she asks, “first tattoo?”

“Yeah, I’m nervous. Mostly excited,” you give her a small smile, one that makes hers widen.

“Don’t worry! I had to take like five breaks for my first one and now here I am.” It’s then that you finally notice the ink peeking from her long-sleeve shirt, at her wrists, and on one side of her neck. “Eddie’s great, and I’m sure you’ve got great pain tolerance—I can sense it.”

You laugh, she’s somehow managed to make you feel much better in the short time you’ve been talking to her. Eddie walks out, greeted by the sound of your laughter and he almost stops in his tracks. Almost.

“Robin, stop chatting up my clients,” he says.

“I’m just being friendly, Eddie! You should try it out,” she replies.

You can tell it’s in good nature, because he ruffles her hair as he passes and leaves it there. From what you’ve seen so far, the workers here are close; a tight-knit group of people and you admire that friendship, long for it.

“Follow me,” he says. It takes you a second to realize he’s talking to you because of your distraction, but when you look up you find him staring at you, waiting.

“Okay,” you trail behind him as he leads you to the bed furthest from the doors, the one tucked away in the back of the room.

“You eat and drink water before coming? I don’t want you passing out on me.”

“Yeah. Yes, I’m good.”

He looks at you like he’s unsure, but moves along anyway. Eddie’s only worried because you’re his client and he has to, no other reason. He can’t be worrying because he thinks you’re pretty and sweet and far too kind. There’s absolutely no way.

“So, I did a couple sketches,” a couple is an understatement. “Have a look and let me know which one you wanna go with.”

You take a look at the five he’s laid out, all as you asked. Gibbous moons, both waxing and waning, some shaded more than others, some simple outlines. The one that catches your eye is a happy medium, fine lines with dotting for shading. It’s beautiful, exactly what you envisioned.

“This one. It’s really good.”

He tips his head down, “thanks. I’ll go get my stuff and we’ll get started.”

He’s not gone for very long, though it’s enough time for you to watch one of the artists at work, the boy with the brown hair. You watched the way he moved the needle, only looking away when Eddie came back and grabbed your attention.

“Gonna do the stencil like before, so you’ll need to move your shirt,” he says, looking down at his station and getting everything ready.

“Would it be easier if I just, uh, take it off?”

That makes his hands hover, paused in his task. He tries to shake it off; he’s seen a ton of people shirtless at the job and he’s never been affected by that, so why should he be now?

“Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Okay,” you decide it must be easier without your shirt—less things in the way—so you take it off and try not to worry about it.

Eddie applies the stencil just as he did a couple days ago. Gentle, precise hands that you’ll feel the ghost of for hours after your appointment, you’re sure. His head bent close as he pushes the edges down so you can feel him breathing, catch his scent for a moment.

When he’s done, he holds up a wide handheld mirror for you to get a look at it without having to walk all the way to the mirror on the opposite side of the room.

Again, you’re impressed by his drawing, and seeing it on your skin makes you realize that you’ll carry a part of Eddie forever after this. His linework, his trace.

“So,” he prompts you to speak as your thoughts have taken you away, “what do you think?”

“It’s great. Really.”

“You’re sure that’s where you want it?”

He double checks every single detail. That you’ve picked the one you want, that it’s the right size, that you really want to do this. He does so until you’re laying on your stomach on the bed, positioned so he can work comfortably at your side.

“Okay, I’m gonna do a small line, just so you see how it feels,” he warns you, and you tense in anticipation. “Relax.”

“Sorry. ‘M just nervous.”

“You’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

He manages to ease you with very few words.

The sound of the tattoo gun sounds louder when it’s so close, more daunting, but you’re eager to get started only to get rid of the anticipation. He draws a short line after giving you a quiet warning of, “here we go.”

It’s not nearly as bad as you’d expected. A scratch, a small sting, but it’s manageable.

“You okay?” He checks.

“Yeah, it’s not that bad.”

“Told you you’d be fine,” he says so softly you almost miss it.

Your head is turned to the side where he sits, and you can see him in your peripheral vision as he works. His legs clad in dark, ripped denim, the tattoos peeking through. The sleeves of his shirt rolled up to show his forearms. You shut your eyes and try to stop staring.

He works quietly, though you can sometimes hear him humming along to whatever song is playing. You don’t try to make conversation because you don’t want to be a distraction.

It doesn’t take too long before he gets to the shading, telling you, “some people find this part a bit more painful. So you know.”

“Okay, thanks.”

He’s right, it is more painful and you find it harder to keep yourself occupied by looking around. You find it harder to ignore the feeling of the needle.

Eddie notices. He doesn’t know how, but he notices. Maybe it’s the way your eyes are squeezed shut at certain points, the hand of the arm furthest from him bunched in a fist. He decides he wants to ease the process for you in any way he can.

“So, why the moon?” He asks.

“Huh?”

“Why’d you choose the moon?”

“Oh, sorry,” you don’t see him shake his head at your unnecessary apology. “I’ve always loved it, how it has a cycle. The way it looks in the sky. Just, everything. Looking at it was a way of reminding myself I’m alive, kind of. ‘Cause I can still see it. I guess I chose this one to remind myself that even if it’s not whole now, it will be eventually.”

He wants to pick at your brain more, because he thinks it must be a beautiful place to be able to describe things the way you just did. You talk like it means a lot to you and the fact that you shared it with him so openly when you’ve been so quiet isn’t lost on him.

“That’s really…wow.”

“Sorry. I kinda rambled there.”

“No, no. I’ve just never looked at it that way.”

He asks you more questions after that, trying his best to keep your mind off of the needle and on the conversation. He asks how long you’ve been in the city, then, why you moved, and you give him honest answers for all of it.

Not long at all. Because I needed to get out, to be somewhere nobody knows me.

That made him think of Hawkins, of every person there who called him a freak, who looked at him like one. He needed to get out, too.

“Alright, you’re all done, just gotta wrap it up for you,” he says, putting the gun down and wiping over your skin one more time. “Do you wanna have a look first?”

“Please,” you nod.

He likes the way the word sounds coming out of your mouth—he gives himself a mental slap for that.

You sit up and he holds the mirror just as he did before. You can't help but gasp when you see it, exactly what you pictured. He did such a good job that you resist the urge to hug him for it.

“Eddie, it’s beautiful.”

So are you, he thinks.

“I’m glad you like it,” is what he says.

“I love it. Seriously, thank you.”

“It’s my job. Let me wrap it and then you’re good to go.”

He does, carefully and with the same gentle hands that have become far too familiar by now. When he’s done, he takes off his gloves with a snap, and hands you a pamphlet and some cleaning products to use at home.

“Thanks again, Eddie. You’re really good,” you say, putting your shirt back on.

“No problem,” he flashes you a small smile, one you’ll hold onto. “Um, here’s the card for the shop. You know, in case you need anything. Just ask for me, okay?”

“I will, thank you,” you take the card from him, your fingers brush his as you do. The name of the shop is written on it in bold, sharp letters: Corroded Coffin Tattoos. Underneath it, the phone number.

You’re led back through the saloon doors and met with both Robin and Nancy by the desk. They’re talking with wide smiles and rosy cheeks, their hands tangled loosely.

“I don’t pay you two to flirt,” Eddie says, retreating back where the two of you just came from.

Robin slips away, presumably done with her shift at the desk now that Nancy’s back. She gave you a kind goodbye, and makes sure that you promise if you ever want another tattoo to go back there.

“How was it?” Nancy asks you.

“Good! I’m really happy with it.”

“That’s what we like to hear! Eddie’s great. He gave me my first tattoo, too. Robin was mad for ages and then made sure she gave me the next one,” she grins. “Anyway, let’s get you taken care of.”

You pay for the tattoo, and then, you’re off.

It’s times like now that you wish you had someone to talk to, because you’re having way too many thoughts about your tattoo artist that you might never see again and you need to know if you’re reading into things too much. You need to know if his hands linger longer than they need to on other clients, if you imagined the way his eyes stayed on you, too.

You settle for overthinking on your walk home instead.

-

You didn’t think you’d end up using the card Eddie gave you. Not unless you were calling to book another tattoo, but here you were, leaning on the wall by your phone and dialing the number.

It was just a quick question, really, but you were still nervous. You’d only gotten the tattoo yesterday and already you were calling.

You’d realized when reading the aftercare instructions he gave you, that you didn’t have any unscented, gentle lotion like it called for, and you wanted to know if he had any suggestions for what works best. You tried going to the pharmacy, but the options were overwhelming.

You ended up buying something anyway because of how long you spent there. A useless magazine that was the closest thing to you when you noticed how some of the employees were looking at you. Some girl reading way too many lotion labels.

Yeah, definitely embarrassing, and definitely something you won’t let yourself live down.

The phone doesn’t ring for long before someone picks up, “Corroded Coffin Tattoos, Nancy speaking.”

“Hi Nancy,” you tell her your name.

“Hey! How can I help you?”

“Um, Eddie told me to call and ask for him if I had any questions,” you explain. “I was wondering if he’s available for a minute?”

“He did?” She sounds surprised.

“Um. Yeah.”

“Huh. Usually he makes one of us deal with calls instead. I’ll put you on hold and let him know, okay?”

“‘Kay. Thanks, Nancy.”

Desperately, you try not to overthink what she said. That he doesn’t usually get his clients to talk to him for things as minor as this. Why would he want you to, then? You don’t know why every little thing he does sends your mind into a whirlwind of ‘why’s and ‘what does this mean’s.

It’s maybe two minutes—silence filled by your thoughts—before the phone is picked up again.

“Hello?”

You can tell that it’s Eddie.

“Hi. Sorry to bother you but I just had a quick question for you.”

Eddie knows it’s you; he’s not expecting a call from anyone else. Not that he was expecting yours, it’s just that you’re the only client he’s even told to ask for him. He tries to cover that up by saying, “who’s this?”

“Oh, guess I should’ve said. Sorry,” you remind him of your name, as if he could forget it.

“Don’t be sorry. What’s your question?”

He’s quick to get to the point, and you can’t tell if it’s because he’s eager to help, or if it’s that he’s eager to get the conversation over with. Nancy’s words replay in your head. Usually he makes one of us deal with calls instead.

“I noticed that for aftercare, it says to use gentle lotion,” he hums along, urging you to continue. “I wasn’t sure what exactly that meant and I even went to the pharmacy but I didn’t know which one was good-”

“It’s okay,” he cuts you off. “I’ve got some here at the shop. Do you have time today to come pick it up?”

“Yeah! Yes, that’s great. Thanks so much, I promise I’ll get out of your hair after this.”

He doesn’t like the way that sits with him. He doesn’t want you out of his hair. He wants to see you again, he’s realized, and it’s almost too much for him to handle. The way he feels about you is brand new for him—never felt before. He wants to know everything about you.

“‘Course. See you soon, then.”

“Bye, Eddie.”

He hangs up.

You leave a bit after that. Not too soon, because you didn’t want to make it seem like you didn’t have other things to do, even though you didn’t. You’ve memorized the walk to the store at this point, and it doesn’t take you long to get there. You’re greeted by Nancy once again, only in person this time.

“Welcome back,” she says.

“Hi,” you smile at her, you hope it doesn’t look like a nervous grimace. “Um, Eddie told me to come here to pick something up.”

“Right, okay,” she stands, heading in the direction of his office, pausing to say, “he must really like you.”

Great. Some more material for you to analyze about Eddie and how he acts with you. It’s odd to have someone on your mind so constantly, to try and make sense of it. He has something about him that pulls you in, and you’re not sure how, or why, but you let yourself be pulled.

His hair is tied in a low bun when you see him, his bangs and stray strands of hair make it look messy, like he hasn’t had the time to redo it. And yet, he had the time to speak to you on the phone and now.

“Moon girl,” he says, lips turned up just enough to be noticeable.

“Eddie, hi,” your hands twist themselves into the sleeves of your knitted sweater. “Thank you for taking time for me, I know it was a dumb question.”

“It wasn’t. I’m glad you care enough to make sure you’re using the right things,” he says. He holds out the lotion, “speaking of.”

“Perfect. How much do I owe?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He probably shouldn’t make a habit of giving things away for free to girls he thinks are pretty and that confuse him way too much. For you, though, he’ll make an exception. It’s not like anybody else is driving him nuts like you are, anyway.

“No, you’ve done so much already. Please let me pay.”

“It’s fine, I promise that one bottle of lotion won’t hurt me.” But this possibly being the last time I see you might, he thinks.

“If you’re sure.”

“I am,” he confirms. “I’ll see you around then.”

“Bye, Eddie. Thank you.”

“Bye, moon girl.”

You look down at your feet as he walks away, letting your hair curtain your face. You really shouldn’t be feeling so giddy because of a fucking bottle of lotion and a new nickname, but you are.

“Holy shit,” Robin’s voice comes from the front desk. You hadn’t noticed, but she must’ve walked out at some point during your quick interaction with Eddie.

You curse yourself and try to hide the smile that threatens to spread across your face. “Hey, Robin.”

“Well hello,” she’s looking at you like she knows something you don’t, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “I don’t know how you did it but he’s never acted like that with any client. Like, ever.”

You don’t say anything, biting the inside of your lip to distract from the butterflies in your stomach.

“And, I’m so glad you’re here,” she changes the subject, thankfully. “Because Eddie mentioned you’re new to the city and god knows I could use friends who don’t work here and I wanted to know if you wanted to come for drinks sometime?”

Eddie spoke about you? Robin wants to be your friend? You can’t wrap your head around either of those things. It’s been so long since you’ve hung out with someone who wasn’t family. And even then, it was tiring, not fun.

You realize she’s still waiting for an answer when she clears her throat.

“Sorry, um. Yeah, that would be nice.”

“Yay!” She cheers. “What’s your number? I’ll call you next time there’s plans.”

You write it down on a scrap piece of paper for her, and she beams at you when she takes it.

“Eddie‘s gonna be thanking me for this one later,” she teases. “I think we’ll be great friends.”

You look at her smile, at her crooked tie that rests atop an oversized button up. You think she might be right about that.

-

As soon as you leave Robin and Nancy go to Eddie’s office. An intervention of sorts. They walk in without knocking (the door was open anyway) and stand in front of him with some look.

He’s pretty sure he knows why they’re both staring at him with knowing smiles, but he tries to ignore them and busy himself with some sketches.

Robin’s not having it, so she sits in the chair across from Eddie, kicking her feet up onto his desk.

“What do you want?” He sighs.

“Um, hello? Are we not gonna pretend that you weren’t flirting with her in your own, weird, Eddie way?” Robin starts.

“Dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Come on,” Nancy joins the conversation, on Robin’s side as always. “You’ve never told a client to ask for you, or given them free stuff.”

“Yeah! And, you were all ‘see you around, moon girl, hey let me stare at you and then not do anything about it,’” Robin lowers her voice, imitating him very inaccurately.

“I don’t know. She was nice, that’s all.”

“Nice enough to break your little rule of being mister nonchalant. I think you like her,” she’s right, but Eddie doesn’t even want to admit that to himself, let alone his friends.

He doesn’t say anything, shifting in his seat. He knows they both mean well, but he doesn’t know what to think and an ambush isn’t necessarily helping that. The pit in his stomach he’s had since he realized he might never see you again hasn't lessened, and the memory of your perfume or the feeling of your skin hasn’t faded.

So, maybe you did have an effect on him, but it doesn’t matter anymore. It didn’t matter in the first place because he wouldn’t let it.

“Look, Eddie, we’re not trying to make you admit anything,” Nancy says, “we just noticed that you acted differently with her. Steve did, too, I’m sure. And it was a good different. You seemed less guarded, I guess.”

“What she said!” Robin adds.

“Yeah, thanks guys, but it’s nothing, okay?”

They share a look, one that Eddie doesn’t understand but he’s gotten used to their silent communications over time. He scratches at the back of his neck, nervous about what they’re thinking.

“Anyway, I got her number,” Robin says, holding the small paper you wrote on for Eddie to see.

He grabs it, staring at your handwriting and the small heart you added next to your name. He fights a smile at the sight of it, cute and lopsided and though he doesn’t know you well, it’s very you.

He clears his throat, handing the paper back. “I’ve got her number on file already.”

“It’s not for you! It’s for me and Nance. We’re gonna be friends,” she grins, proud.

“We’re probably gonna invite her next time we go out, and wanted you to know. Just in case you care,” Nancy says, explaining.

Just in case you care.

He does care, he thinks. He cares way too much for someone he’s met three times and knows very little about. He knows you’re pretty, you apologize a ton, you fidget with your hands when you’re nervous, and you like the moon.

He knows that he cares what you think about him, and that when you called the tattoo he gave you beautiful, it meant more to him than most compliments do. ‘Cause it was you who said it. It’s too much for him.

Maybe he’ll skip out on the next outing.

“That’s nice,” he settles for.

“She’s new to the city and she’s cool. Don’t you think, Eddie?” Robin asks.

He swipes her boot-clad feet from his desk in response.

“We just don’t want you to hold yourself back, that’s all. You never go on dates or anything, even though you’ve had many chances,” Nancy says, softer now that she sees Eddie’s mind is full.

“Thanks for caring, you guys, seriously. But I’m fine. I like being single.”

“So, just be friends with her, then,” Robin suggests.

Her and Nancy leave him alone after that, his mind a bigger mess than before and it’s completely surrounding you. He doesn’t understand how someone could make him rethink everything like he is.

I like being single, he’d said.

And yet, when he imagines going on a date with you, giving you flowers, complimenting your dress or your hair, he’s not sure how true that statement is.

-

Your days drag by. You work in a small café, and whenever you’re not there, you’re either wasting away hours in your apartment or taking aimless walks. It’s a never-ending cycle, a carousel spinning round and round.

The only eventful thing that happened to you (other than your new tattoo) was accidentally spilling coffee all over yourself at work and having to stick out the rest of your shift in wet clothes. Not necessarily something you want to remember.

You’re beginning to lose hope that Robin will ever use your number.

It shocks you when your phone finally rings. You try to convince yourself it’s telemarketers, a wrong number, anything not to get your hopes up. Lucky for you, it actually is Robin.

“Hello?” Is your automatic word when you pick up.

“Hi! Listen, I’m so sorry it took so long to call,” she doesn’t have to say it to know it’s her. Robin has a very distinct way of speaking; rushed and animated. “So, I actually lost the paper. Silly me! But, then I found it and I had to convince the others to want to go out. Anyway, you wanna come?”

“Hi, Robin. That’s okay,” you find yourself smiling. Your first real one in a while. “When?”

“Oh! I forgot to say. Tonight?”

“I can do that,” you try to sound excited, you hope she can tell.

“Perfect! Do you have a pen and paper? I’ll tell you the place.”

You reach for your notepad and pen and do your best not to drop the phone in the process. Somehow, you manage.

“Yep, ready.”

She rambles off an address, a meeting time, and then, “shit. Boss is coming, better act like I’m working. Bye!”

She hangs up, and you know who she means when she says ‘boss.’

You’ve been trying your best not to think of Eddie, but it’s easier said than done. You constantly think you see him in crowds that pass by. A head of long, curly hair here, a worn leather jacket there. It’s confusing and almost embarrassing.

This boy who you barely know, taking up so much space in your life.

You’re reminded that you’ll most likely be seeing him tonight, as long as you’re right in assuming that by ‘the others,’ Robin meant her coworkers. The thought makes you nervous, makes your stomach do things you aren’t used to.

Despite the time you had between the phone call and when you had to leave, you’re in a hurry to get ready. Picking your outfit was the hardest part, because you’d never been to the place before. You decided on a dress that was simple enough, a denim jacket that you’d probably end up taking off (you get warm when you drink), and your trusty Doc Martens.

Your makeup is a little messy, but you don’t have enough time to fix it so you act like the smudged eyeliner was purposefully done. Your hair was left down.

Walking through the doors of the bar, you’re a couple minutes late and a little out of breath from your rushing. You look around in search of a familiar face when waving catches your eye.

It’s Robin, who’s waving the most obviously, her arm swinging back and forth until Nancy pulls it down and says something to her. Probably telling her you’ve seen them and she can stop. It’s sweet.

You make your way through the crowd towards the booth they’d secured. The boy, who’s introduced to you as Steve, is sitting in the corner on one side, Robin and Nancy on the other. Eddie’s absence is noted, and you guess you must’ve looked confused because Robin spoke up and said, “he’s just in the bathroom.”

She beckons you to sit with her and Nancy, and you fall into conversation easily. Even Steve is easy to talk to and you’ve only just learned his name. Sometimes you worry you’re intruding in their group, an outsider. In a way, you are, because you don’t work with them nor have you been friends with any of them for a long time, but they have yet to make you feel that way.

It’s a far cry from the friends (or lack thereof) you had back home, in the best way possible.

When Eddie comes back, the first thing he sees is you. He’s shocked. Not because you’re there—he was well aware of you being invited—but because you look like you belong with his friends. You fit right in, and you aren’t even trying. Then, he notices your dress and he wishes he could ignore the feeling he gets.

He’s painfully aware of how pretty you are, and when you look over, as if feeling his eyes on you, you give him a small smile and wave. He walks over and slides into the booth next to Steve as casually as possible.

“You look nice,” he says. It’s the best he can come up with.

“Thank you.”

The two of you are too busy looking at each other and trying to figure out what to say when the others share some kind of look. Knowing.

Your nerves pickup when Eddie’s around and you scold yourself for it. You have no business feeling anything towards him, and yet, his very simple compliment will be the root of your daydreams for days to come.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” you think you need one. “What’s everyone else want?”

“I’ll help you bring them,” Robin says.

You both stand, and everyone tells you what they want. You make your way to the bar and wait your turn. The feelings you have towards Eddie are confusing, and you’re not exactly sure what they even are. Intrigue, attraction, tension. Whatever it is, it’s unfamiliar.

Robin leans on the bar beside you, noticing you looking towards Eddie before even you do. When you pry your eyes away, she’s smirking at you.

“He likes you, you know?”

“Who, Eddie?” You ask even though you know that’s who she’s talking about. “No, he doesn’t. I actually think he dislikes me.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding. I’ve never seen him act like he does around you, and I’ve known him a really long time. Seriously.”

“He’s just being nice,” that’s all it is, you’re convincing her as well as yourself.

“Please. I know he’s hard to read and seems kind of closed-off, but he’s warmer towards you than most people. He barely even talks to clients, usually.”

Everything she’s saying, you can tell she thinks is true, but if you let yourself think it, too, you’d be absolutely fucked. Your mind would go wild with scenarios and imagining what could happen. You’re doing enough of that as is.

“I don’t know, Robin.”

“You’ll see, trust me.”

Unbeknownst to you, a very similar conversation is happening back at the table. Steve and Nancy are trying to knock some sense into Eddie, to get him to realize it’s okay to let someone else in. He denies it all just as you did, his head a mess.

He realizes that you’re not his client anymore, you’re here as a possible friend, and it scares him. There’s no guise to hide under with his urge to care for you.

When you and Robin return with the drinks, you’re the one who hands Eddie his, and when his fingers brush against yours, just barely, he feels them tingle even after the contact ends.

You loosen up a little bit as the night goes on, and you do end up taking your jacket off. The spaghetti straps of your dress leave your tattoo exposed, and Eddie can’t help but look at it. He’s always proud of his work, but seeing it on you is different for him. He likes that his mark is on you.

Nancy and Robin leave first, walking out leaned into each other. The rest of you follow shortly after, Steve slipping out after a quick goodbye. When you stand, you stumble slightly. Eddie catches you, a hand wrapped around your upper arm.

“Let me walk you home,” he says, his hand trailing down your arm lightly before he pulls away completely.

“That’s okay, Eddie. Really.”

You put your jacket back on and struggle to find one of the sleeves, your arm reaching back awkwardly. Once again, Eddie’s quick to help you, pulling your jacket over and guiding your arm to the right spot. You thank him quietly.

“C’mon, it’s dark out.”

“You’re not gonna let me say no, are you?”

He shakes his head, that small smile you so rarely see making an appearance.

The walk is quiet for a bit, the chilled air of the night nipping at your skin, your arms pulling your jacket tight to your chest. He falls into step next to you easily, pace matching yours so he stays right next to you.

He can tell you’re cold, and he resists the urge to throw an arm over your shoulders and pull you closer to warm you up. It’d be weird, he thinks. You barely know him and he’s sure you’d much rather be walking with one of the girls right now than with him.

“Sorry for, like, intruding in your friend group.”

Though you haven’t felt like an outsider, you do feel bad about worming your way into their group that seemed to have stayed the same for so long. You feel bad for the change you caused, the shift.

“What? You’re not,” he says.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, moon girl. I am.”

He knows he might not be the most welcoming person, but he doesn’t mind having you around, really. What he minds is the confusion that comes along with it, which isn’t your fault at all. That’s on him.

“Okay. Thanks for letting me come, then.”

“I think Robin would have smacked me if I didn’t. Besides, you’re nice to have around.”

He doesn’t know if it’s the few drinks or if it’s just a fluke, but the bit of honesty slips out of him with ease. Eddie’s not a trusting person, he’s been through too much for that, but he has never once felt like you were judging him.

The rest of the walk to your apartment is filled with light conversation and small, awkward silences. Having him next to you does make you feel safer, though. You never know what could happen.

He walks you all the way up to your door. You pull out your keys and fiddle with them, your hand shakes when you try to insert it into the lock. You miss a couple of times and feel the embarrassment scorch you. You don’t know if it’s the cold, or the drinks, or if it’s him making your hands unstable. Maybe it’s all of the above.

Yet again, Eddie helps you. He comes up behind you, his chest hovering over your back, close enough to feel the heat of his body, not close enough to touch.

“Here, sweetheart” he wraps his hand around yours and guides the key into the slot, the pet name slipping out without him noticing.

You do notice, though. He says it so softly, and you think it’s your favorite word that’s come out of his mouth so far. It has your heartbeat picking up, a steady thump in your chest.

“Thanks,” you breathe out.

You turn around, leaving the key in the door for now. He’s much closer than you were expecting and he doesn’t back away. Your back against your door, your nose almost touching his.

Then, something shifts, and he’s leaning in and kissing you.

It takes you a second to get over your initial shock, but you recover quickly, winding your arms around his neck and kissing him back. He makes a sound against your mouth when you do, pressing you further into the door. He has a thigh between yours, his hands holding your waist tightly.

He kisses you like he means it, and you forget about everything else. You forget that this Eddie is the same one who puzzles you so much, that not long ago you were convinced that you’d never see him again. And yet, he’s here, kissing you sick in your hallway.

He sucks at your bottom lip, pulling away and letting it snap back into place, opening his eyes to look at you for a second, then he dives back in. Soon enough, he’s licking along the seam of your lips to open you up, and his tongue has your knees weak.

When you whimper into his mouth, he tenses.

He’s snapped back into reality, realizing that he just made out with you against your door. He pulls away, pushing his fingers into his hair. There’s a sudden change, though this one feels much worse than the one where he kissed you.

There are too many things in his head. Thinking he shouldn’t be doing this or that you’ll hate him for it. You’re about to open your mouth and ask him what’s wrong when he speaks first.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he steps back until he’s against the wall opposite from you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Eddie-”

“No, shit. I’m sorry. Good night.”

He’s walking away before you can say anything else. You stand frozen for what could be minutes before finally letting yourself into your apartment. Closing and locking the door behind you, you lean your forehead against the wood and wonder what the fuck just happened.

You’re not sure what you did wrong to make him have to leave so suddenly, and you know it’ll torment you constantly. Replaying in the back of your mind. The worst part is, you were ready to invite him inside, to let him do whatever he wanted with you. He was gone before you could even get there.

Eddie feels awful for leaving the way he did, and he thinks about turning around and knocking on your door the whole way home. He never does, though. He’s sure you don’t want to see him.

You both have a fitful sleep that night. Blocks away, both tossing and turning in bed with that kiss plaguing your minds.

-

Robin and Nancy’s calls grow more frequent over the following couple of weeks, and in turn, so do your encounters with Eddie. You’ve become closer, would like to say you’ve become friends, even. Though, nothing like the kiss that the two of you choose to ignore happens again.

You chalked it up to his tipsiness, he tries to forget it altogether.

It’s not because it was bad, or unwanted. It’s quite the opposite, actually. Eddie’s so used to kissing meaning absolutely nothing, leading to more every single time. Your kiss, though, was completely different. It made him feel more than he knew he was capable of.

He’s surprised that you have yet to say something about it, especially considering the way that he left. It’s a two way street; he doesn’t bring it up at all, either.

He wants to. He wants to be able to explain himself to you, to tell you why he had to pull himself away so quickly. Only, he’s not sure how. He doesn’t know how to explain the way he finds himself drawn to you, the reason he kissed you, or the feeling that runs through him every time you lock eyes. If he can’t even make sense of it himself, how is he supposed to make sense of it to you?

He can’t even bring himself to tell anyone about it because he knows, as much as they try, it won’t help.

Tonight, you’re all piled on the couches in Steve’s apartment (it’s the nicest one) eating pizza straight from the box and chatting. It’s nice to be a part of a true friend group. You’ve never had anything like it before.

“Eddie, you left your guitar here, you know?” Steve says.

He plays guitar? Fuck.

“Shit, yeah. I did.”

“You know what that means,” Robin draws out the last word, shimmying her shoulders.

“No. Absolutely not,” Eddie shakes his head.

“Please! Serenade us, Eddie.”

They go back and forth for a bit and your gaze switches between the two of them like you’re watching a game of ping pong.

“I’d like to hear you play,” you pitch in.

Robin—of course—wears a smirk. She’s been trying to get the two of you together since she saw how you interacted, and she knows Eddie won’t say no to you. He couldn’t if he tried.

“Really?” Eddie asks softly.

“Yeah. I didn’t know you played,” you shift in your seat, “I’d love to hear it. If you want.”

He fiddles with his guitar pick necklace, which you catch. Maybe that should’ve been a dead giveaway that he’s a musician, but you’d never noticed it before, usually hidden by the collar of his shirt.

Eddie’s not usually a nervous person, but the prospect of you listening to him play has him feeling that way. He’s never worried so much about how someone looks at him, or what they might think. With you, he worries because he wants to impress you, he’s realized.

“Yeah, okay. Just for you, I’ll go grab it.”

Just for you. You turn your face away to try and hide how it affects you.

He asks Steve where he left it, and goes off to retrieve it. You watch him walk away until he disappears behind a corner. There’s something about him that pulls you in, something you wish you could figure out. You know you like him, it’s quite obvious, but it’s the kind that has thoughts of him crowding your mind and that has you overthinking every word.

“You guys are paining me, I hope you know,” Robin says.

“We’re just friends. Seriously.”

“Are you sure about that?” Steve adds on. Nancy tends to just observe when the topic of you and Eddie is brought up. She’s a rational person, and she’s trying to let it work itself out naturally. Though, she’s sure it will work out eventually. Hopefully sooner than later.

Eddie comes back before you can manage a reply, holding an acoustic guitar decorated with messy, white, painted-on lettering that says ‘this machine slays dragons.’

He sits down and tunes the guitar first, focused on his task. It gives you a chance to look at him closely, lets you get away with it because the others are watching him, too. Waiting for him to start to play. When he does, you’re transfixed.

Your eyes don’t stray from him at all throughout the song he plays. His fingers move with so much ease, his rings catching the light. It’s no surprise that he’s talented with his hands, just look at the art he creates on people’s bodies everyday. But, this is another layer to it, a piece of him that made you want to see more. Made you want to collect every jigsaw piece until you had the whole image.

You think you could listen to him play for hours on end and never get tired of his strumming. Yeah, you really do like him.

When he finishes, everyone gives him a round of applause, and he hopes his hair does enough to cover up the blush that blooms on his cheeks. He looks to you first, and you’re beaming, looking at him like he’s just done something groundbreaking.

“That was amazing, Eddie,” you say.

“It’s nothing special,” he replies.

“It is. You’re really talented,” you sound so sincere it squeezes his heart in a fist. “Double talented, actually.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

He lets it slip again, and you soak it up. Eddie tries to avoid the looks from his friends, especially after the pet name. Surely, they’re all wearing smug smiles and plotting ways to talk him into giving whatever the thing between the two of you is a go.

He sets the guitar aside, clearing his throat amidst the awkward silence. You look at your lap and frown at the run in your tights that you just noticed, avoiding being the first to say anything.

Every new detail you learn about Eddie only makes you like him more. You’re still not sure if he even considers you a friend, but you certainly consider him one. You would ask but decide to save yourself the stress of having to bring it up. The worst part is, the idea of him not liking you hurts more than you’d like to admit.

The silence is eventually broken, and the floodgates of conversation have opened back up. You and Eddie both let out a breath of relief, synchronized in secrecy.

When you get up to leave, Eddie suddenly has the urge to go, too, and he offers to take you home. Much like the time before, he doesn’t let you decline the offer. He’s just being nice, you think to yourself, he would do it for anyone.

This time, he drove, and he opens the passenger door for you when you reach his car. It smells like him inside, sandalwood, something sweet, the underlying smokiness of cigarettes that you don’t mind when it comes to him. He has a pair of dice hanging from his mirror, though they’re twenty-sided instead of your average six.

“You’ll have to give me directions back to yours,” he says, starting the car. “I remember the area, but…”

Yes, he remembers the area all too well. It’s where he lingered after he sprung a kiss on you and then walked away. It’s where he jerked himself around mentally trying to decide whether he should go back to you or just go home.

“Don’t worry, I can be your map.”

The drive is silent save for the music humming through the speakers and your occasional instructions on which turns to take. It isn’t awkward, you don’t think. It’s comfortable in the way that you don’t feel the need to fill it.

One of Eddie’s hands reaches out and lightly tugs on your skirt, “this looks really nice on you.”

He pulls it away after he says it and you wish he didn’t.

“Oh,” you look down at the fabric, something you’ve owned for years, worn when you can’t figure anything else out. It’s never been anything special, but now, you feel like it might be. “Thank you.”

Eddie feels inclined to compliment you all of the time, he’s learned, but he often lets them float in his head rather than say them to you.

He parks on the street by your apartment complex soon after, but you don’t get out right away. You unbuckle your seatbelt and place a hand on the door, but he stops you.

The sight of your building has him thinking about the night you kissed for what feels like the thousandth time. He wants to kiss you again and he clenches his fists to ground himself. If you’re any bit as torn up about it as him, he wants to know. He also wants to try and explain himself to you, even if he still isn’t sure how.

“Hey. About that night,” he doesn’t have to specify. You know exactly what he’s talking about. Your hand lets go of the door handle, settling in your lap. “I’m sorry I kissed you.”

“You are?”

You don’t want him to be sorry, or to feel bad about it. You only want to know what you did to scare him off the way you did. You also want him to kiss you again.

“Um, yeah. I shouldn’t have just sprung onto you like that.”

“Why did you?” Is what you say next.

“I dunno. You just looked so pretty, and I had the urge. The drinks gave me the strength to do it, I guess.”

He hadn’t been drunk, not one bit, but he doesn’t want to use the alternate explanation just yet. He doesn’t want to say ‘I kissed you because you confuse me more than anyone else. Because I’ve never felt so bent out of shape because of one person. Because you were looking at me like you wanted me to, and I can’t say no to you.’

He could, but he doesn’t want to.

“You think I’m pretty?”

He nods, almost ashamed about it.

“I think you’re pretty, too, Eddie,” his eyes lock onto yours, “and I’m not sorry you kissed me at all.”

“What?”

“I liked kissing you. I was going to ask you if you wanted to come inside before you left.”

You don’t know where your candidness is coming from, but you can’t stop yourself anymore. You’ve wondered and wondered what could’ve happened that night had he stayed, and by the way his gaze flicks down to your lips, you think you might find out.

The car suddenly feels smaller, the air thicker, when he asks, “does that offer still stand?”

You nod, he shuts off the car. You both get out, walking up to your place in a sort of haze. Neither of you know what will come from any of this, you’re going in blind and it’s as exciting as it is nerve-wracking.

Things slow down once you’re inside. It’s as if a fog has cleared and now, you’re both painfully aware of everything you’re doing, or saying. His eyes flit around your apartment in silence, looking at your bookshelf, noting the lack of personal photos.

You cut in before he can comment on your place, “can I get you anything? Water, or…”

When he responds, it’s not to your question. Instead, he asks you one: “how’s your tattoo healing?”

He’s been curious about how you’re feeling with it ever since he caught glimpses of it that night at the bar. You pause by your small kitchen island, looking him over before you can manage to reply.

“Oh. Good, I think,” you shrug a shoulder, “I don’t know enough about tattoos but it hasn’t bothered me much.”

“I can look at it, if you want.”

“Are you sure?”

You say it as if he would be going through lots of trouble to do so, when in reality he’s using it as an excuse to get his hands on you. Tattoos are familiar, not foreign the way his feelings for you are. It’s an excuse to ease himself into whatever this is.

“‘Course I am, let me see.”

“Okay. Light’s better in the bathroom.”

He follows you into your bathroom, and you wish you’d taken into account how small it is because you’re forced to be close to him and it’s making you nervous. The anticipation and unknown a flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

“Shirt off,” he says, his voice smooth.

You listen, because it’s hard not to when he sounds the way he does. You turn to face the mirror and peel your shirt away, tossing it to the ground when you do. You’re suddenly very aware that your bra isn’t the nicest you own, and your instinct is to cover it with your arms.

Eddie stops you, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror, his hands wrapping around your wrists gently, pulling them down. “Don’t you dare. You’re beautiful.”

He looks away after he says it, but you can tell he means it. It’s in the way he makes sure you’re looking at him when he speaks, the way he squeezes your wrists reassuringly before letting them go.

For a second, he forgot why you’re even in the position you are. He forgets that he’s meant to be looking at your tattoo until you say, “how is it?”

“Right, yeah,” he looks it over, and he’s satisfied to see that it looks exactly how it should at this stage. “Really good, actually. You’re doing a great job.”

The compliment warms your insides.

“Thank you.”

“Want me to clean it for you?”

“Sure, thanks.”

He does, disinfecting it first, after finding your products on your counter. He’s gentle as usual, his hands a welcome feeling. Then, he applies the layer of lotion slowly, almost like he’s trying to tease you. It’s working.

His hands trail down your arms when he’s done, his head dipping down to press a kiss on the top of your shoulder. The first one is soft, a barely-there push of his lips against your skin. The next is a bit firmer, his confidence growing with each one.

They trail over the curve of your shoulder, his hands still running their paths up and down your arms, raising goosebumps in their wake, his chunky rings cold. He kisses his way up your neck, your head lulling to the side to grant him more access and your eyes fluttering shut.

Everything he does is filing you up more and more and he’s barely even begun.

“Eddie,” you sigh when he tugs on your earlobe with his teeth.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

He has no idea what’s come over him, but there’s no hiding the effect you have over him anymore. As soon as he got his hands on you, even just to clean your tattoo, he knew he’d be addicted.

“What are you doing?”

“Kissing you. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, yes, it’s- feels nice.”

You would be overthinking if you weren’t so distracted by the feeling of his lips on your skin. And when he uses a hand to tilt your face towards his and kisses you, you’re not sure there’s a single thought left in your head.

There’s something about him that makes everything more intense. You feel like all of your senses are captured by him and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. The smell of his cologne, the taste on his tongue, the feeling of his hands on you and his long hair tickling your skin. All of it.

Eddie pulls away to let the both of you breathe only when it’s absolutely necessary. He’s drunk on every kiss he gets from you and he doesn’t mind one bit. He wonders what you’re like in bed, what sounds you’d make for him, and he can’t stop himself from asking, “can I fuck you?”

The words are spoken between heavy breaths, puffed out against your lips.

“Yes. Please.”

Please, you say. As if you would even have to beg him. You have no idea what you’re doing to him and it only makes him want you more. He pushes his hips against your ass, letting you feel how hard he is and you whimper, you fucking whimper and he’s so gone.

He pushes you down to bed over the counter with a hand on the center of your back, and you obey easily. You’re practically squirming with want, the dampness in your panties growing with every move he makes.

Then, he flips your skirt up, his hands running over the tights that cover you before ripping them in the middle.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he says.

He keeps a hand on your back, though its drifted much lower, and the other sneaks its way between your legs, cupping you over your underwear before pressing his fingers against you. You can't help but moan at the feeling.

“Soaking already, sweetheart?” He taunts.

“Eddie, come on.”

“What is it?”

“You’re teasing me,” you huff out, your cheek pressed against your cool countertop.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

He hooks his fingers in the fabric covering you, pulling it aside and going right back to his teasing. His fingers run up and down your slit, dipping into where you’re wet only to pull away and circle your clit; just enough to give you a taste, to have you wanting more.

He’s winding you up and up and up and you think you might pass out if he doesn’t make you come soon.

“Eddie.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve got you.”

It’s then that he pushes one finger in, his rings that still sit around his fingers only add to the intensity. He works a second one in quickly, your cunt sucking him in and he can’t even imagine how good it’ll feel when he gets to fuck you for real.

He’s quick to learn what you like, what makes you pulse around his fingers or moan a little louder. You had no clue that things could ever feel this good and when his thumb finds your clit, you’re absolutely done for.

Your breaths come out hot, bits of condensation gathering on the counter, “fuck. Oh my god.”

“Feel good?” He asks even though he knows damn well it does—your reactions are telling enough. He picks up the pace, his fingers pressing against that spot that has your knees going weak. He wraps his unoccupied arm around your waist to hold you up.

“So, so good, Eddie. Gonna come.”

“Go on, all over my hand, sweetness. Then I’ll fill you right up, how’s that sound?”

Your response is caught in your throat, a whine bubbling out instead.

“Quicker you come, the quicker I’ll give it to you,” he tacks on.

The thought of him fucking you after this drives you nuts because if just his fingers feel this good, you can’t even imagine what his cock will be like. Your orgasm washes over you, eyes rolling back.

He works you through it, steadily slowing down and easing away to give you a break. He pulls his fingers away, chuckling at the noise you make when he does, and sucks them clean. Then, softly, he’s leaning down and kissing his way up your spine.

“Holy shit,” you breathe.

“You okay?”

“More than okay. You’re really good.”

“‘M not done yet, babe.”

He stands back up, but he pulls you along with him so you're no longer resting on the counter. Hands on your hips spin you to face him, and as soon as you do he surges forward to kiss you. It’s quick, like he’s making sure it’s still okay to keep going.

His touch trails up to the band of your bra—which is askew, but still on. “Can I take this off?”

You nod, but he waits for a verbal confirmation before unclasping it and pulling it away from your chest. It joins your shirt on the ground.

You’re suddenly very aware that you’re half-naked and he isn’t. You tug on his shirt, eager to even the score, “you too.”

“Well, it’s only fair, isn’t it?”

He peels his shirt over his head, and you realize that you’ve yet to see his tattoos so closely. You reach out, tracing them lightly with your fingertips. First, the bats that adorn his forearm, working your way up to his shoulder, then down his chest. He lets you, happy to have your hands on him.

While you’re occupied with his tattoos, he looks you over, free to stare without worrying if you’ll notice. His eyes travel across your face, the slope of your nose, the shape of your lips. They go down your neck, a canvas he plans to leave his mark on, and down to your chest that’s now bare.

The sight is enough to remind him of how hard he is, straining against his jeans. He kisses you again, heavier this time, and lets his hands cup your tits, squeezing and thumbing over your nipples. You moan into the kiss and he can’t control himself any longer.

He lifts you up to sit on the counter, close enough to the edge that you’re forced to wrap your legs around him.

“You still want this?” He asks.

Your hands go to his jeans, popping the button open and lowering his zipper slowly, “yeah, Eddie. I want this. I want you.”

I want you. Eddie doesn’t know why the words make his heart go all fluttery, why they make him look at you like you’ve put the stars in the sky just for him. He kisses you all over again.

You fit your hand between his jeans and his boxers, and you gasp into the kiss when you feel just how big he is. He’s wide, and you know the stretch of him will be a kind of burn that hurts so good. You stroke him over his boxers first, but quickly grow impatient to see him.

You tuck your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them and his jeans down enough to free him. You pull back only to be able to look at him properly, leaning your forehead against Eddie’s bare shoulder, your bottom lip bitten between your teeth because he’s pretty everywhere.

He kisses the side of your head, tender in the midst of the heat of it all.

You think, despite his initial distance, Eddie’s one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met. He shows it in the small things he does. Offering to take you home, the gentleness of his hands, his constant checking in on you to make sure this is what you wanted.

Yeah, you like him a whole lot.

Your hand wraps around his cock, jerking him slowly at first. A tease, he thinks. And then you pick up your pace just a bit and he thinks he might come before he even gets to be inside you and as much as he would love to see your hand covered in him, it’s not what he wants right now.

He’s never wanted anyone like he does you and he knows that information will have him overthinking later, but right now, it just makes him desperate to have you.

“Fuck,” he grabs a hold of your wrist, “as good as this feels, sweetheart, you gotta stop or I’ll come and this’ll be cut short. You don’t want that do you?”

He tips your chin up with his free hand, pecks your lips quickly before giving you the chance to respond.

“No. Want you to fuck me,” you say.

“Dirty girl.”

He reaches for a condom in one of your drawers when you tell him where to find them. When you bought them, you were almost embarrassed, because what were you expecting? Certainly not this.

He’s back on you before you really feel his absence, running his hands up your thighs, under your skirt, and tearing the hole he’d already made wider.

“You want me to stop, you tell me, okay?”

“Okay.”

Pushing your legs apart further to make room for him, he reaches down to paint himself up and down your slit, pushing himself in only when he’s teased the both of you sufficiently.

It’s a welcome stretch, one that’s better than anything you’ve ever felt in situations like this and you wonder why you didn’t move away sooner, if this is what it led to.

Eddie leans forward, resting his hands on the counter on either side of you, close enough that his arms brush against you. His face is close to yours but he doesn’t kiss you, no, he breathes the air you do, swallowing any sound you make.

His first couple of thrusts are tentative, slow, but when you wrap your arms around his neck and speak a quiet, ‘faster, please,’ he dives right in.

Somehow, he manages to know just what you need, and he wraps his arms around your waist to keep you still as he moves harder, quicker. Both of you are still half dressed, your clothes in disarray and his are pushed to his knees. You’re both so wrapped up in want and it shows.

“Fuck me,” you whine as he hits that spot inside you, like he’s done it a hundred times before.

“Thought that’s what I was doing, sweets.”

“Eddie.”

“I know, baby. You’re doing so good.”

He knows your orgasm is creeping up on you, he can feel it in the way you pulse around him, squeeze him tighter, bury your face in his neck so that your moans are pushed into his skin.

If he could, he thinks he’d get the sound of them permanently etched into his mind.

“Taking it so well. You wanna come, sweet girl?”

You nod against his skin, “yes. Yes, can I?”

He snakes a hand down to rub your clit, to push you over that edge and says, “let go. Give it to me.”

It’s like his words were what you were waiting for, the breaking point to let you finish. It’s enough to make your moans get caught in your throat and your eyes squeeze shut, seeing stars.

“Oh my god,” you choke out.

“That’s it,” he works you through it, and only when he’s sure that you’re on the comedown does he let himself finish, too.

He pulls your head from his neck with a hand cupping the back of yours, kissing you to really seal the deal, coming with a grunt into your mouth.

When he’s spent, he rests his forehead against yours, running his hands up and down your back soothingly, “you okay?”

“Mmm. Amazing,” you reply, dazed with a fucked out smile on your face. “Why’re you good at everything?”

He chuckles, kissing your cheek before pulling out, “maybe I’m just good at them with you.”

Discarding the condom and pulling his boxers back up—removing his jeans completely—he then finds a small towel and wets it in the sink. Meanwhile, you take off the rest of your outfit, figuring he’s seen enough already. He cleans you up first, delicate hands and a soft apology when you wince from the sensitivity.

He picks you up when he’s done, your legs wrapped around his waist and your head dropped against his shoulder. It feels natural, he thinks, to take care of you the way he would a lover. You feel like you belong there, in his hold, and he knows that you’ve changed him in a way.

His reluctance to get into any kind of relationship seems to have flown out the window now.

The door across the hall is the first he tries, and he guessed correctly when he finds your bedroom on the other side of the door.

He lays you down on your bed, and you pull the blankets up over yourself, lazily. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to look at Eddie the same way, but it’s not a bad thing. It’s not because of the sex, though it was notably the best you’ve ever had and you’ll undoubtedly think about it constantly. It’s because you have feelings for him. Real, true, romantic feelings that run far too deep for you to ignore.

He goes to leave, but you catch his wrist, “you can stay.”

“What?”

“I want you to stay with me. If you want to,” you say.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

He doesn't even hesitate, and he tries not to think about what that means for this thing he knows is blooming between you, its petals unfurling slow and steady. He slips into bed beside you, welcoming you when you snuggle into his side.

“Goodnight, Eddie.”

“Night, moon girl.”

You’re both fucked, literally and figuratively.

-

You wake up the most well-rested you’ve felt in a while. Flipping onto your back, you stretch out, and it’s only then that you feel the emptiness on the other side of the bed.

For a moment, you’d almost forgotten Eddie had been there in the first place. Then, you remembered you were, in fact, naked. The slight ache between your legs was enough to have last night coming back to you in a rush.

You wonder if maybe Eddie had to leave for work, but you don’t find a note or any indication of his departure. Instead, you hear the clanking of pans and plates coming from the kitchen.

You throw on a fresh pair of underwear and one of your oversized sleep shirts that sits at the top of your thighs. You’re still groggy, mind slower with sleep, but you’re awake enough to hear Eddie humming when you open your bedroom door and step out into the hall.

There he is, standing by your stove, cooking breakfast. You rub your eyes to make sure you’re not dreaming. Or seeing things.

He moves around like he’s been using your kitchen for ages, and his presence warms the space that you’ve had such a hard time getting used to. You recognize the song he’s humming to be the one he played on the guitar. The corners of your mouth lift up.

“Eddie?” You call quietly, careful not to startle him while his back is turned to you.

“Oh,” he faces you, frying pan in his hand, “morning, sweetheart.”

“Hi.”

“I’m making us breakfast, I hope that’s okay.”

Is he kidding? It’s the most okay thing anyone’s done for you in a long time and you don’t know whether you want to cry or kiss him. He’s unlike anyone you’ve known, and you can’t believe how different he is now compared to when you first met.

His guard was up, short responses and little emotion. It’s a stark contrast to now, to the way he stands clad only in his boxers and his shirt from the night before, flipping a pancake like it’s the easiest thing in the world. You don’t know how he could even keep the saccharine boy hidden, it seems to ooze out of him now.

“It’s- Eddie, this is really sweet.”

The tips of his ears go pink.

He doesn’t know what possessed him to cook for you, or why the sincerity in your appreciation makes him blush. All he knows is that he thought it would be nice to make you smile, and that there’s something in his chest that seems to expand when you do.

“I hope you like pancakes,” he says.

That morning is the moment you realize you’re falling in love with Eddie Munson.

-

It’s been weeks since that night, that morning. Somehow, rather than put distance between the two of you, you and Eddie have grown closer. You think he’s one of the best friends you’ve ever had, even though you haven’t known him very long.

You’re not falling in love with him anymore. No, you’re deep in it now.

Of course, Robin was able to draw it out of you, and after all of her assuring you that there’s absolutely no way Eddie doesn’t feel the same, you still can't let yourself believe her. You’ll bever come back from it if you find out he doesn’t when you’ve built up your expectations.

So, you keep them low. He’s your friend, that’s all it’ll ever be and you know it. Or, at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself every time you catch yourself getting a little too lost in him.

You’re meant to be meeting the gang at the tattoo shop and then head somewhere for drinks all together. Because you’re not only close with Eddie now, you’ve found yourself friends that are real and true. Sometimes you find yourself wondering what your life would’ve been like had you been in high school alongside them. You think it would have been much, much better, but you have them now and that’s what matters.

You knock on the door when you get there, the shop already closed and locked up. You’re quickly greeted with Robin’s grinning face on the other side of the glass. She lets you in and wraps you in a brief hug.

“I think you should start working here just so I don’t have to miss you at all in between plans,” she says, stepping back and locking the door again.

“We both know I don’t have the skills for that, but I missed you, too, Robin.”

“Not as much as you missed me, I hope,” is how Eddie chooses to announce his presence.

“Hi, Eddie.”

“Hi, sweetheart.”

Robin scoffs at him, “can you not steal my thunder for once, please.”

“I’m not allowed to say hi to my friend?”

He looks at you when he says friend, like he’s sharing a secret. Only, you have no idea what it might be.

“Whatever. I have to go get Nance since she went home to change,” she gathers her stuff from the desk. Then, she points to you and says, “I better get a very detailed life update later.”

“You know you will,” you say.

“‘Kay, see you soon!”

She leaves after that, and Eddie’s gaze is already fixed on you when you turn towards him.

“C’mere,” he nods towards the doors that lead to the back room, where the station he tattooed you at is all set up.

“What’s this?”

“I want you to give me a tattoo.”

Your eyes widen, “sorry?”

“I’m serious. Doesn’t have to be big, it can be a dot if you want,” he gently nudges your chin with his finger, closing your mouth where it was dropped in surprise. “I wanna teach you.”

Your friendship isn’t the only thing that’s grown since that night. Eddie’s become more touchy with you, too. An arm slung over your shoulders, a hand on your thigh or the nape of your neck. Though this touch is small, it doesn’t fail to leave a lasting effect where it was placed, a warmth, like a drop of sunlight. It almost distracts you from what he’s asking.

“Eddie, I can’t. I’ll mess it up.”

“Babe, I’ve got loads of tattoos. Trust me, it’ll be fine,” he moves his hand to your shoulder, gives it a squeeze. “Plus, you’ve got a great teacher.”

It takes a bit longer for him to convince you, but he succeeds in the end. It’s hard to say no to someone you’re in love with, especially if that someone has really good puppy dog eyes.

Before you really even process it, he’s on the tattoo bed, a pant leg rolled up, shaving a small patch for you to use as your canvas. He does all of the prepping necessary, and even goes as far as to put the gloves on for you.

He explains it all slowly, repeats whatever you ask him to, and promises to guide you through it all. You’re incredibly nervous—who wouldn’t be?

“Relax. You’re gonna be a natural, I know it.”

“How do you know that?”

“You’ve got good hands, sweetheart,” he drops one of his eyelids in a wink.

The flirting is something else that’s become more frequent. You think he’s flirting, that is. He doesn’t act the same way with the rest of the group and you know that, but you also need to not get your hopes up. Still, the butterflies come alive.

You draw your stencil, settling on a very simple rendition of the sun. A small circle with short lines as its rays. It’s fitting for him, you think. As much as he seems like midnight on the outside, that boy is dripping in sunshine.

It also goes with the one he gave you, but that’s just a bonus.

Once it’s applied and you’re sat on the stool, in position to begin, he explains it all over again. He knows you’re nervous, but he isn’t at all. He’s excited to have you do this, to wear a piece of you on his skin.

His hand wraps around yours on the tattoo gun for the first line, guiding you so that you can get the feel of it. He lets you take over after that, assuring you that there’s nothing you could mess up enough to have him dislike it, as long as you’re the one doing it.

As he watches you work, your tongue poking out between your lips in focus, he feels his chest swell. He’s never liked anyone the way he does you, and he’s never let someone untrained tattoo him, that’s for sure. There’s something in him that seems to brighten when you’re around, and he doesn’t know how to put it into words.

He wishes he could pluck the moon out of the sky and hold it in his hand, only to be able to give it to you. Since he can’t do that, he hopes his heart will do good enough. He loves you, that he knows, he just can’t bring himself to say the words out loud.

He’s warmed up to you quicker than ever, so much so that the people around him have noticed. That means something and he knows it.

“I think I’m done,” you say after a bit.

“Yeah? Let’s see this work of art then.”

He sits up, bends closer to his leg to get a look at your handiwork. He’s silent at first and it makes you nervous.

“What do you think?”

“It’s perfect,” he says.

You know it’s far from perfect. The lines aren’t even, nor are they all straight. But he says it like he means it, believes it, so you let yourself smile at that.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m super sure.”

He wouldn’t have ever picked out the sun for himself, but knowing that you would has his walls crumbling even more—if that’s even possible with you.

He does the cleaning and the wrapping, and you’re happy to observe. Just as he’s finishing up, Robin and Nancy walk in, Steve not far behind.

“I leave you guys for not even an hour, and now you have a tattoo?” Robin says, though she doesn’t even sound surprised.

-

Eddie thinks his feelings swell and grow every single time he sees you, and he thinks they might just boil over and pour out of him before he even gets to figure out what to say. That won’t do. You deserve more than that.

You deserve to be taken on a date, to be appreciated and taken care of properly, and that’s what he needs to do. The only problem is, he has no idea how to go about it all.

There’s only one person he can think of who will know exactly what to do. The expert in dating; Steve. Eddie calls him into his office.

“What’s up, boss?” Steve says, leaning against the doorway the way he always does.

“Close the door, would you?”

“Shit. Am I in trouble? I may have spilled some ink the other day but you can barely even see it, swears.”

Eddie shakes his head, making note to take a look around his station later. He’s used to Steve’s clumsiness, though, it’s part of the reason he wanted dark floors in the shop.

“No. That’s not- I need your help.”

“Oh. Okay, hit me.”

“I want to ask her out. I just don’t really know, um, where to take her or whatever.”

Eddie doesn’t even have to say your name for Steve to know who he’s talking about. He’s painfully aware that he’s been quite obvious with his affections, especially ever since the night you had sex. He’s always itching to have his hands on you in some way, stealing you away from other conversations, all of it.

That night was like a wake up call for him, a bucket of cold water dumped over his head. He knew there was something about you before that, but it became concrete.

He’d never felt so connected to someone, nor had he been so eager to take care of them afterwards. Hell, he’s never even slept in the same bed as his hookups. He can count on one hand the number of times he’s slept over at all. Then, there was you, asking him to stay and he couldn’t say no to you. He didn’t want to, either.

“You know her better than I do, man. But, flowers, you gotta do. They love that. Do you know her favorites?”

Eddie shakes his head.

“That’s fine. Get a good mix. Other than that, you should just be honest, that’s what Robin always tells me,” he shrugs. “Why don’t you just call her now?”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Come on! She’s gonna say yes. She gives you those lovey-dovey eyes all the time.”

“Okay, that’s enough. Out.”

“Not even a thank you?”

“Thanks, Steve. Bye.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he leaves Eddie’s office, shutting the door behind him again. He, along with Nancy and Robin, knows that you and Eddie will end up together, it’s obvious to everyone except you two, they only want to help it along.

Eddie really hopes that their pestering will be worth it in the end. That you’ll feel the same.

He stares at the phone sitting on his desk for what feels like ages before he musters up the courage to actually call you. He had your file open on his desk, your number written out on one of the forms. He finally picks up the phone and dials it.

Luckily, you weren’t at work. You’d been thinking of Eddie more and more each day it seemed. How he looked at you, the secret smiles that he saved just for you, the way he touched you, the way he felt-

The phone ringing cuts off your train of thought. You walk over and pick it up, prepared for it to be Robin or Nancy since they’re the only ones that ever call you besides your boss. The voice on the other line is neither of them.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart. It’s Eddie.”

As close as you’ve gotten, for some reason, no phone numbers have been exchanged. You wish they had been, because hearing his voice crackle through the phone is a much nicer sound than most.

“Eddie, hi. How’d you get my number?”

He twists one of his rings around with his thumb. He’s glad you can’t actually see him, because you’d surely be able to tell that he’s nervous.

“It’s on file in the shop. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I like talking to you,” you say, soft and sincere. “What’s up?”

“I, uh,” he shakes his head, trying to figure out exactly what to say. “Are you busy tonight?”

“No, I’m not. Do you guys want to do something?”

“Not exactly,” he says.

Your heart beats quicker in your chest, because you think he’s about to ask you out, maybe. If not that, then at least ask you to do something with just him, which is close enough for you to consider it a win. You smile like an idiot.

He clears his throat and continues, “I wanted to know if you’d want to go out… with me.”

It’s happening, you think. Something is shifting as you speak, the feelings you’ve tried to suppress for so long are itching to come out.

“Like a date?” You ask. Just to be sure.

“Yeah, moon girl. Like a date.”

“I’d really, really like that, Eddie.”

He thinks you can probably hear the smile in his voice when he says, “yeah? Me too.”

He tells you he’ll pick you up, to wear whatever you like, not to worry about being over or underdressed, ‘you’ll look pretty either way, trust me,’ he’d said.

When you hang up, you’re trying not to jump around and squeal like a thirteen year old. It’s difficult to contain your excitement, your nerves, your hope. It feels as if a door is opening. A door to more nights like that night, more mornings with shared breakfast, more kissing, more than friends. More, more, more.

Meanwhile, Eddie’s wondering how he’ll get through the rest of the work day when his head is filled with the promise of seeing you.

-

After much debating on what to wear, no thanks to Eddie’s sweet yet vague instructions, the buzzer sounds in your apartment. You make your way over, one shoe on, the other in your hand. You press the button and speak.

“Hello?”

“Hey, moon girl.”

“Eddie,” he only said three words and you’re already smiling. “Come on up.”

You rush to get your other shoe on, luckily finishing up just as he knocks on your door. There’s a moment where you’re almost expecting someone else to be on the other side, to have been dreaming the whole date up. Luckily, it’s real.

Eddie stands in the hall, pretty as ever. His hair is in its usual mess of waves and curls, his classic leather jacket and denim vest duo are on, and in his hand, a bouquet of flowers.

He notices you looking at them and holds them out, “these are for you.”

“This is really nice, Eddie. Thank you.”

You take them from him, holding them up to your nose to smell them (and also to hide how wide your grin is). He stands by the door, a ball of nerves, and watches you put them into a big cup, because you never had a reason to buy a vase until now. He decides next time, he’ll deliver the flowers in a vase just so you have one.

He holds your hand on the way down, opens the car door for you and makes sure your legs are tucked inside before closing it, he tells you in at least three different ways how beautiful you look during the car ride alone, and he drives with a hand resting on your thigh, your fingers toying with his rings.

He’s an absolute dream.

He takes you to a small restaurant, fancy enough for a date—though you think being with Eddie, no matter where, would be enough for you—but casual enough that you aren’t too worried about the people around you being judgemental. You sit in a booth and instead of across, Eddie sits beside you. He keeps a hand on your thigh during your meal, too.

In his car once more, you’re sitting in the parking lot with music playing through the speakers. Eddie hasn’t made a move to start driving you yet, and you haven’t even thought about going home. You haven’t ever been on an official date before, but if you had, you’d say with absolute certainty that this is the best one.

You sit sideways in the passenger seat so you can look at him, and Eddie’s head is turned toward you, his cheek against the headrest.

“Have you had a girlfriend before?” You ask.

You don’t know why the thought comes out of your mouth. You’d been thinking it, though. Robin’s always hinting at how different he is with you, at the fact that Eddie’s never brought a girl he’s liked around his friends. You’re curious.

“No, I haven’t. Why do you seem surprised?”

“It’s just, you’re really good at this.”

“At what, sweetheart?”

“Like, going on a date. And… other stuff, too.”

He shifts in his seat, resting an elbow on the center console and leaning closer to you. Much, much closer. Your noses are almost touching and you can see the way his eyelashes frame his eyes.

He nudges his nose against yours, “what stuff?”

You know he’s teasing you, trying to make you give him more detail because it’ll make you go all shy or embarrassed. To him, it’s cute, and he’s been trying not to kiss you all night. He was going to wait until he dropped you off like a proper gentleman, but he figures making it through dinner is good enough.

“Eddie,” you draw his name out, almost whining.

“Tell me. Come on, please? You can’t just bring it up and not share.”

The hand of his that isn’t resting between you comes up to push your hair over your shoulder, then slides around to hold the back of your neck loosely.

“God, okay. Um, you’re a good kisser. Like, really good,” he leans in and pecks you for that, pulling away just enough to let you keep talking, your lips still brushing against his. “And, I love your hands.”

“My hands?”

“They’re very talented. You know, ‘cause you’re an artist, and all.”

He huffs and shakes his head. Enough of the teasing, he leans in and kisses you deeper this time. Your hands move and grip the sides of his jacket, holding him close to you.

You kiss, and kiss, and kiss, and it’s enough to have you panting and warm all over. His hand squeezes your neck gently before he pulls away, his lips slick with spit, swollen and darker from your kiss. You’re sure yours don’t look much different.

Eddie drops his forehead against yours, takes both of your hands in his, “do you want to go home?”

You shake your head.

“Can I show you my place, then?”

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

He’s not saying it to get you in his bed, though there’s no doubt that would be a bonus, but he doesn’t want this date to end. There’s also a part of him that wants to see you in his apartment, let you into more of his life.

He’s only ever been to yours, and he doesn’t have the whole group over at his, so you’ve never seen it. He thinks, if he’s really going to give this a shot, he might as well let another wall crumble down for you.

The drive there is fairly quick, and yet again, his hand finds your thigh. This time, though, he lets his fingers hold on, rather than just rest in your lap. You like it a lot.

-

Eddie’s apartment isn’t what you expect. You thought it’d be decorated like the shop: dark colors, black and white art, hints of red. His place is much warmer, much homier. It suits him perfectly.

He has a huge record collection, a whole wall of his living room dedicated to the shelves and the player itself. He also has a shelf for his books. Some more worn than others, letting you know which are his favorites of the bunch.

You trail your fingers along the spines, admiring his collection. He lets you, standing not too far away, enjoying how you look in his space.

His bathroom is much like yours, small and plain, but it’s tidy save for some products of his strewn about the counter. His bedroom is so obviously his that it makes you smile. From the rings and other jewelry sitting atop his dresser, to his dark gray bedding, to the guitars that are displayed proudly, to the desk pushed into a corner with pages upon pages spread about.

You gravitate towards that desk without a second thought.

There’s something so intimate about seeing his art station in his home, much different to his office at the shop. Here, he can let it be a mess, and can draw whatever he pleases.

“Is it okay if I look at these?” You ask.

“‘Course,” he says. He walks up behind you, lets his hands hold your sides loosely and rests his chin on your shoulder. You revel in the warmth of his chest against your back.

You pick up some of the loose pages, looking at the different pieces. Skulls and flowers and landscapes and so much more. He can do it all, you think. You can see so much detail, the strokes of his pencil, and it’s clear how much talent he has.

“These are all beautiful, Eddie.”

He turns his head to peck your cheek, “thank you, sweetheart.”

You reach for a worn sketchbook next, the cover peeling at the edges and the pages nearly full. It flips open to where it seems to have been used the most, the spine broken. What you see makes you gasp quietly, but Eddie’s close enough to hear it.

Covering the pages are drawings of the moon. Over and over again he drew them. Some are big, taking up an entire page, and some are scrawled into corners and empty spaces, like he couldn’t stop adding them. All of these drawings for your tattoo, and he’d only shown you a few.

“It’s weird, right?” Eddie says, hiding his face in your neck.

If he’s honest, he forgot that sketchbook was even there. He couldn’t forget about the drawings you found—you’d taken up so much of his thoughts after meeting that he couldn’t stop drawing the fucking moon for you. There are so many and he’s embarrassed by it, because he really was screwed after the first day even when he refused to see it.

“No, it’s- these are all for me?”

“Couldn’t stop thinking ‘bout you, so I drew these,” he speaks into your skin. “I was trying to avoid my feelings for you, but clearly, that didn’t work. You wouldn’t get out of my head and I had no idea why.”

You turn in his hold, leaving the sketchbook open on his desk. You look at him, the way his cheeks are pink at your finding of his drawings, the way his eyes flick between yours.

“I love them. Every single one,” I love you. “I thought about you a lot, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. So much. You made me nervous at first,” you admit, your hands fiddling with the collar of his shirt.

“I’m not used to, um, opening up to people and all. I’ve never even been in a relationship,” his hands come up and grab yours, like he needs the comfort. “You make me want to try, though.”

You have to say it. There’s no way you can’t, not when he’s looking at you with those eyes filled with something.

“I love you, Eddie,” his eyes widen, he freezes. “You don’t have to say it back or anything, I just really needed to tell you. You’re the first sense of comfort I’ve found since I moved, and I don’t think I would have felt at home without you and I love you.”

No matter how scared he is to be with you, because he wants to be someone worth being with and he doesn’t know what he’s doing, he can’t ignore the fact that he loves you right back. And he hasn’t said those words to many people in his life.

It’s big for him, so big that he’s stumbling over his words but he tries anyway.

“Oh my god,” he kisses your knuckles, “I love you, sweetheart. My moon girl, fuck, I love you, too. I’ve never done this before, but there’s nobody else I’d want. Nobody.”

You feel so many things at once. Relief and happiness and a thousand fireworks in your gut and in your heart. You grab his face with your hands and drag him down to kiss you.

It’s broken by your smiles, your teeth bumping into each other but neither of you care one bit. He holds your wrists gently, returns your kiss with ease. He’s delicate with his touch, so, so perfect with his lips on yours.

He only pulls away to ask, “will you be mine? Be my girlfriend?”

You nod vehemently, “been yours since you kissed me the first time. Probably even before that.”

You’re not worried about the ‘told you so’s you’re sure to get from your friends, or what happens next because you know whatever it is, Eddie’s gonna be there.

“Think you had me the minute you started talking ‘bout the moon.” He just didn’t know it yet.

༄

if you enjoyed, please leave a reblog or let me know what you thought! it helps loads more than you think <3

[wolverineluvr]

saw your yan denji fic and loved it :D if you dont mind, could you also make some yandere denji headcanons?

"love at first sight"

cw: stalking, yandere themes, obsessive behavior

a/n: tyy!! And ofc, I hope you like it<3

Yan!Denji who randomly bumped into you one day. All you did was apologize and go on your way. But your voice. Your face. You. It drew him in, like an irresistible song from a siren. He couldn't help himself.

He followed you, he tried to be smart about it, to not be suspicious. To make sure you didn't see him. You didn't, in the end. But honestly he didn't do a good job.

Yan!Denji who watched as you walked into your apartment, he watched you close the door and turn on the light. He watched the house as you went to bed, and he watched for a little longer for anymore glimpses of you, before he left.

He was scolded by Aki for straying off and not coming back until the sky turned black, and the moonlight danced on the rooftops. Your rooftop. He wonders how you'd look in different lighting. In the evening, the sun shining softly through clouds and giving off a beautiful golden glow. Every sight anyone would fall in love with.

Yan!Denji who didn't get much sleep that night, only thinking of you. He wonders if you're thinking of him. He knows you're not. But a delusional part of his mind thinks that you are.

Eventually he fell asleep, thinking of how you looked doing a million different things. How you looked when you bit into a delicious apple, how you looked when you slept, when you cried. Do you like apples? He wishes he knew.

Yan!Denji who found himself watching you enter your house the next day, and the next, and the next. He crept closer to your window every night. Never looking in at your sleeping face just yet, before he left.

One night he does, and what he sees is better than anything he could've imagined. Your face is soft, relaxed. One of your legs is out of your blanket, and the moonlight shines through your window and lights up your room, your face, beautifully. You're the type of girl people write poems for. That people would kill for. And that begs the question,

do you have someone in your life?

Yan!Denji who constantly thinks about you. Thinks about how you probably have a boyfriend. He doesn't even know your name. Maybe he should try to talk to you.

Aki and Power can tell something has been going on, Aki had asked when Denji started seeming distracted but he just got an annoyed, dismissive response.

Yan!Denji who thinks of you like you're the sun. He's like the moon, always chasing after you, but never moving from his spot behind you. Never progressing, never seeing your warmth in full. Maybe he's not even a moon, not even a star or a planet. Only a human, basking in your warmth through the day, left in the cold when you're gone.

So far away from you, yet you seem so close. Soon, he'll meet you really. He hopes, at least. He'll see you in full.

[vanilleandclove]

the meadow in which you lay | 1

ser erryk cargyll x arryn!reader | chapter one: the king and his men

After the tourney, your encounters with Ser Erryk have been slim to none. Yet, with your cousin's wedding festivities, you reunite with your dear knight even with the unturn of events.

word count: 2k | warnings: description of violence, innuendo to an anxiety attack.

previous - next

taglist: @holb32 @callsignwidow

When the news broke that Queen Aemma had died during her labors, your father became suspicious. Thereafter, in the dark hours of night, news of Prince Baelon's death rang through the halls, only prompting an urgent meeting on the King's succession.

"I would like to see my sister Viserys" your father spat, consumed with grief as your brother and you peeped during the council's meeting, mourning the loss of your sweet aunt Aemma. You glanced at your brother, his eyes glassy and jaw tightened, he had always been fond of your aunt Aemma as he was always taken care of by her whenever your parents had to oversee engagements in the Vale.

"Might I remind you of formalities Lord Arryn" Otto Hightower spoke in reply, only earning the deadliest of glances from your father whom cared deeply of his sister and now must see to the engagements in the Vale as Jeyne must take the seat as your father's health was faltering.

"Piss off with your shit formalities Otto, my sister dead in childbirth knowing well of her conditions and how her past births and pregnancies had been. I would prefer to see my dear little sisters corpse before she is burned" your father spat, raising his voice at the Lord-hand. Truth be told, Aemma was part Targaryen, child of your grandsires second marriage, being cremated by a dragon was a festivity.

Your father never saw his sister, though he sobbed violently at her funeral, the Kingsguard worried he would dehydrate. As you saw your dear aunt's corpse burn alongside your cousin whom never was able to live, to love. To your left you saw the Kingsguard an obscured view beneath the flames.

You chose to comfort Rhaenyra during the loss of her mother, Alicent showing empathy to the situation. Rhaenyra dismissed you during the late of night, Alicent long gone to attend to her father's summons. As you paced through the halls, searching for your chambers, you were met with heavy silver nearly knocking you off your feet.

"Are you alright my Lady Arryn?" the knight said frantically, gripping onto your waist in order to catch your fall, feeling your body as it shook erratically. Your breathing was uneven, body grown heated; you bit your lip in order to stop the flow of tears, faltering greatly and becoming putty in the knight's hands.

"I am d-deeply sorry Ser, I cannot-" your words were taken by grief and anxiety, the flow of tears never-ending. Erryk quickly wiped your tears and embraced your figure tightly, in order to stop your nerves overpowering your body. Lightly cooing in your ear to help ease your worries. Your love, deep as it may, eased every bone.

"Sshh darling, it is alright. I have you" Erryk whispered into your ear, as whimpers left your mouth and shuddered your body. You knew of Erryk's duties, as Ser Ryam's health further faltered. Yet your worries laid in the man who held you, as the Stepstones became a threat.

Near the end of the night, you could not forget the touch of your once lover. Nor could you forget a year and a half later, as you were called to court in King's landing once again as Rhaenyra's lady in waiting. After catching Rhaenyra and Lord Commander Harold, choosing the knight for a replacement in the Kingsguard.

"Cousin!" Rhaenyra smiled, hugging you deeply, "I did not think you'd journey this far, how is Jeyne?". It had been far too many moons since you've seen your cousin, within that time, your father had been kissed by death leading your mother to become a dowager. Your brother had business to attend to as he was now betrothed to one of the Tully girls. Leaving you to find your place in court, specifically that of the rightful heir, Rhaenyra.

"I might admit, the Red Keep seems quite smaller than when we last saw each other my dear cousin" you joked, greeting Ser Harold as well, "Looking rather dashing as always Ser Harold", the knight smiled and nodded his head at your words. He knew of your affections with his once squire, granted, he would be a fool to not notice the way Ser Erryk would straighten his posture as well as you would when you two would encounter one another.

"Oh! You should join my father and I to supper, he would be delighted to have your company as much as I" Rhaenyra mentioned, though her enthusiasm quickly diminished as she glanced over to Alicent, walking with none other than the King. "They spend an awful amount of time with one another" she lightly spited, she had not talked to Alicent since their prayer.

"I wish I could but the journey has me spent, may I go wash up- my princess" you spoke, Rhaenyra's temper became airy once again, she ticked her tongue.

"You do not have to use formalities, we are family" Rhaenyra smiled.

You often wondered how it would be had you be Targaryen, your hair would be pale, kissed by snow. Your irises would be purple, like that of precious gemstones. You would be closer to a god than that of a man. Though, you do not envy your cousin, having the royal duties and having to pretend almost all of the time.

You bid your goodbye's and went to your assigned chambers, not much has changed within a year; though you must note, Rhaenyra was right back Alicent's time being spent mostly around the King. You hoped, by the old gods and new, that Alicent was not hoping to be the new wife of Viserys, that her father has not sunk his fangs and claws into her yet and she has some sort of rationality.

"Would you like us to run a bath for you Lady Arryn?" one of the handmaidens spoke, their smiles always gleaming when you came, "Oh how your hair is that of silk!".

"It is ok, you all are dismissed" you nodded, "I will settle down and run my bath, you all should catch some sleep my ladies" the handmaidens were shocked at the lack of your need.

"Though, Margot" you spoke up as the others left your chambers, "Do you happen to know the status of the Cargyll brothers?". Margot, your sworn confidant that follows you everywhere, from the Vale to King's Landing. She piqued at your inquiry, smirking lightly.

"A Kingsguard is no match for a husband my sweet Lady" Margot quirked her eyebrows, "Though I heard murmurs of their duties to be sent to the Stepstones; granted I believe it is just a rumor dearest".

Your heart leaped from your body, you've heard rumors time and time again. But one that focused on the enlistment of your dear lover and his twin? God's save us all, you'd hope he'd never leave to be sent to a death sentence. Your thoughts wandered to the urgency of the Stepstones, over to the remarriage of the King, and much to that of your cousin.

For next several days, you stood by Rhaenyra's side, in her angriest of moments as the King had declared he'd to be wed to Lady Alicent Hightower. Every emotion that followed, how fear raked through her body as she wondered if she'd be overshadow by the potential children Alicent would sire her father, if the child, had they be male, if it was dismantle her claim to the throne.

The wedding, was lackluster. After all, Alicent did not feel as your friend as she once was now that she was now your cousin's step-mother and your Queen. The months that followed, Alicent became with child. Rhaenyra's hand still not given to be wed, neither that of yours which left a distaste to your brother whom has heard far too many marriage proposals for your hand. Within the turn of the year, Prince Aegon, was born. Donning the Targaryen, pale, white hair, Aegon was paraded around the Great Houses as they hoped he would be made heir, not Rhaenyra, not a woman. There were words of House Stark asking for your hand, as well as House Blackwood. Dashing, honorable, and driven young men they were, but they were not the knight of your heart. They were not Erryk.

Within the next three years, Erryk and Arryk were called to join Prince Daemon to fight in the Stepstones. Prince Aegon, on his second name day, dealt with the earnest jewels one could have on their name day, as Rhaenyra dealt with more marriage proposals than that of the Streets of Silk's finest of women. That have you, assisting your brother in his duties, the Riverlands complemented you, House Tully greatly welcomed you as your brother was now married. Now, you return once again to King's Landing to celebrate Rhaenyra's wedding to Ser Laenor Velaryon, though you must say, you never sensed they'd be match, romantically speaking.

The wedding festivities were one of fond memories you hold in the times of your youth. Your cousin and her now husband, the future consort were certainly a match, despite the boisterous interruption of the now, Queen Alicent Hightower, during the first feast. You noted the spite Alicent threw to your cousin, rolling your eyes as she feigned pride and congratulations for Rhaenyra. Though, you simply did not care towards the end of the night that was filled with dancing and feasting. You did however take into account Ser Harwin Strong and his protectiveness to your cousin, your heart fluttered as you then realized, the man loved her. As she did to him as well, just as Ser Laenor had his heart sworn to another. Duty is in fact, the death of love.

"May you grant me one dance my Lady Arryn?" Erryk questioned, as you were shamelessly eating, your mouth stuffed, looking up at the man who asked for your hand only to be met with embarrassment, he smiled, allowing you to chew and wiping the corners of your mouth for you.

"I'd be delighted" You smiled as you joined your cousin on the dancefloor, herself finding company in Ser Harwin, a gentle man he was to her.

"It has been years my Lady" Erryk murmured, you lock eyes as the song progresses, now noticing Daemon and Laena sharing a dance, Laenor off to the side with another. "I pained myself with the idea of you forgetting me I must admit".

"You truly are a sadist Ser Erryk" you giggled, holding his hand lightly, not squeezing enough for people to note intimacy, "I could never forget you my dear knight, nor that of your brother".

"Now that right there pains me" he ticked his tongue and just as you were about to bump into a Lannister, he shifted your position by grabbing a hold of your waist, "My brother and I may have been born together but we are quite different".

"I know that better than anyone I'm afraid" you teased, "One day the histories will remember me as the breaker of oaths if I continue to fancy you".

"I'd break a million of oaths to wed you Lady Arryn" he whispered, a part of you wants to believe him wholeheartedly, to know that this is not just teasing.

"You would have already done so".

"I can live without a keep to call my own" he began, "It is you I cannot fully disregard".

"But you can partially…".

"With great restr-".

The night was soon dimmed into a fight, as Ser Criston bashed the man of Ser Laenor's affections into a pulp, the graphic form of violence put a somber and unneeded memory onto the night. But how Harwin protected Rhaenyra was how Erryk protected you. You held onto his forearm tightly, fearing if you'd let go, you'd be trampled. Your heart was beating erratically, and he made his way through the crowd, not caring if one decided to fight him, but you? He'd commit murder and treason if one laid even a finger on you.

[thebiggestlovergirlever]

Hey lovely, would you a do a jealous!Muzan x female!reader.. He doesn’t realise that he’s in love with her until he tasked her with getting something off someone (you chose who) and the way she does that is by seducing said person. Muzan gets super pissed off with her and starts ignoring her, reader decides to flirt with the upper moons just to piss off Muzan for ignoring her and all hell breaks loose. You decide what ends up happening, but they do end up getting together 😊

Ahhh Omg I love this idea!! Thank you sooo much for requesting (ur my first request ever!!) sorry if it’s not very fluent but I was so excited to write this :D!!

The town was bustling even though it was night, Muzan had sent you out to retrieve a few ingredients for his most recent attempt at being able to walk in the sun. You duck and weave through countless people till you finally reach the shop you were looking for “hello sir I need three nightshade flowers.” You state politely, the man looks you up and down before gathering them into a little bag “That will be 300¥” you sigh“oh I don’t have any money on me, could I pay you in another way?” You ask with a sly smirk resting on your face. His cheeks are dusted with a rosy color as you begin to move towards him. He smiles and grabs your hip firmly “oh yeah? And how so would you be paying me?” As you begin to undo his belt the door slams open and money is thrown on the counter. Muzan snatched the flowers, grabs your wrist, and drags you out to the woods, “What on earth where you doing?” He questioned, a sneer resting on his face. Confusion grows in your head “I was doing as you said and getting the nightshade,” you mutter, it ended up sounding more like a question making your confusion evident “What I walked in on was a mockery of the twelve kizuki, and demons in general.” Before you could respond he was gone and you were left to your thoughts.

As you headed to your home in the woods you kept going over the events from that night in your head, “Why was he so mad? I’ve seen him encourage many demons to do anything and everything to get less important things than that, so what makes it different when I do it?” You finally realized right before the sun rose, Lord Muzan was jealous. You and Muzan had always had a complicated past, for the last few centuries you had grown feelings for him wishing he would reciprocate those feelings, you would try to create conversation and pay him all your attention lovingly. Sadly he hardly even responded and when he did it was short and snippy. Unknown to you Muzan adored the attention you gave him, he enjoyed your stories of fighting demon slayers and finding trinkets on the ground to keep and decorate your home with, would he ever admit to you or himself that he felt the exact same way no not for now.

Realizing he was jealous you decided to take advantage of this and see if you could finally win his heart over. The next upper moon meeting you started with Douma, “Hello Douma, your hair looks lovely today have you done something to it?” You ask in a sweet tone trying your best to make your eyes look as attentive as possible “Ah Y/N thank you! I have recently eaten a much younger woman than usual she was 19 years old and I’ve noticed my hair and skin has been much smoother ever since,” he responded with his usual fake smile. You sent a quick glance towards Muzan and felt your heart begin to race as you saw him glaring down at Douma, you thought to yourself “it’s working!” As a grin grew on your face. “So has the younger girl helped with your muscle definition too? Because your pecs and arms look more muscle-ey than they did last meeting, can I feel?” You ask with a flirtatious giggle he responded in the same tone “of course my dear!” You grabbed his pecs and arms and made sure to giggle as you glanced up at Muzan. Anger was evident on his face, if looks could kill Douma would be six feet under, deciding to spare Douma any more issues with Muzan you moved to Akaza.

“Akaza you’re so strong, we should train together tomorrow,” you giggle giving him a glance up and down, unlike Douma, Akaza doesn’t care for small talk as much responding with a sneer “No thank you. I have better things to do.” As you continue to try and talk to him Muzan glares at a distance. His whole body is hot almost erupting with rage, He begins the meeting with an aggressive yell. The entire meeting you tried to focus but all you could take note of was Muzan’s angry demeanor. His eyebrows twitched as he snapped out orders at the rest of the upper moons, while you were left neglected.

At the sound of Nikime’s Biwa you were transported to a dark office, as far as the eye can see was books and documents. You walked over to a big desk covered in test tubes and equipment to make anything that would help concur the sun. The light snapped on and you quickly turn around, you stared at Muzan with a light smile, he stared back but with a cold glare. He saunters over to you, eyes drinking in your figure, “What were you doing before the meeting? Ignoring me is not a good decision Y/N.” You snicker quickly and respond “What are you talking about my lord? I wasn’t ignoring you, I just took the hint you didn’t want me wasting your time with my stupid stories and questions so I left you alone.” His features soften quickly as he moves closer, he gently grabs you face as he says quietly “I love your stories and your questions, what ever made you feel that way?” Placing your hands of his hard chest you whisper “You never responded, or seemed to care so I gave up,” you finally meet his eyes as he says “I care, I care about everything you do and say. I care so much that I would burn the world if you wished, I love you.” And with that You kiss, both silently acknowledging your shared love.

[mysticfalls01]

The Draw

(Williamson!reader)

The Wonder Twins Universe

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

During your international break you talked with Leah about your feelings for certain Catalonian captain. She couldn’t help but to smile while she listened how you talked about Alexia. She confirmed that moving to Barcelona was the perfect move.

Also, during the third day of the break Mapi called you. She hated how everything was going with Vilda, how he and his staff treated the girls and how they made them train extra hours. You let Mapi to vent out all her frustrations, all her feelings at that moment it was everything you could do for her. You were worried for Mapi and the girls. 

After the international break Lucy, Keira and you returned to Barcelona.

Playing with the Lionesses gave you that energy boost that you needed, you guys had two out of two possible victories. While playing in Barcelona has been amazing nothing could compare to the feeling of playing alongside your twin.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You were over the moon, since Liga F started Barcelona hadn’t lost a single game. You had won a spot in the starting 11 and you couldn’t have been happier, with each game you only get better. Barcelona was really your home, your dream team.

Two weeks after the international break you and the girls found yourselves sitting down in the media room watching the Champions League draw for the group stages.

Until that moment the group was the next: FC Barcelona, Sporting de Lisboa, and Bayern München. There was only one team left to complete the group. Everyone turned their heads towards the TV to learn who would be their final rival.

“Joining in group D is going to be…”

The suspense was killing everyone in the room, that was until a team was mentioned.

“Arsenal”

As soon as that word left the mouth of the presenter you stood up and left the room. You couldn’t support the pity looks that your teammates were giving you.

You couldn’t believe it, of all the possible teams it had to be Arsenal, you were going to be playing against your previous team. Against some of your best friends and most importantly against Leah.

You had always played with Leah, never against her.

You couldn’t hear it but as soon as you left Mapi stood up and followed you. You ran towards the training ground as you needed fresh air, you were having a panic attack.

You felt a hand rubbing your back and that person said “y/n! Breath, follow my breath. One, two, three. Again y/nn one, two, three. You are doing amazing y/nn”

As soon as you kinda calmed down you realized that the person helping you was Mapi.

She gave you a few more minutes to calm down.

“Gracias por tu ayuda Mapi” (Thank you for helping me Mapi) you whispered and hugged her

“What is going on your head y/nn? Please talk to me.” She could imagine what was going on however she wanted to hear it from you.

“I’m not necessarily worried about playing against Arsenal itself. I’m worried about playing against Leah. All I’ve ever known is playing with her not against her, I knew that it could happen, but I expected it to happen later on”

Mapi knew that she would never understand what it meant to play against a sister, nerveless twin against twin. She knew that the only thing she could do was to help you to accept what just had happened.

“y/n I will never be able understand what you are feeling but I feel as if I have known Leah for ages because of everything you’ve told me. She would be proud of you if you give your everything against them. I know that nothing can break the bond that you have with her and if there is something that could do it wouldn’t be something as simple as a result from a match”

You needed to hear those words; your feelings were all over the place.

“y/nn why don’t you go back to your apartment and call her. I’ll explain everything to Jonatan so go back home and rest. If you miss one day of training nothing will happen. I’m sure that he will understand”

At that moment you couldn’t have been more grateful for Mapi.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

After your call with Leah you realized that Mapi was right. While it would be difficult to play against Leah you guys promised to give your best versions of yourselves against each other.

You were sitting in your living room still thinking about the draw when the sound of someone knocking on your door interrupted your thoughts.

You stood up and opened your door. It was Alexia.

“Hola y/n. Puedo pasar?” (Hi y/n may I come in?) She said with a soft voice.

As soon as she said those words you let her in.

“I don’t want to sound rude but what are you doing here Ale?”

“Well y/nn I just went to the store, and I brought popcorn and some ice cream. I was thinking that we could watch a movie to distract you for a while. What do you say y/nn?”

If after almost three months in Barcelona you hadn’t fallen in love with her, you just did. Usually, you were the one cheering up everyone else and not the other way around so, Alexia doing that for you just made your feelings for her grow even stronger.

“Let’s do it Ale”

While the movie was on you could help but to look down towards the Spaniard who was cuddling you. She felt you looking at her and then it finally happened.

You kissed her and she kissed back. You guys separated to breathe some air. You joined your foreheads and whispered “Let me take you out on a date Ale”

“Si, y/n” she whispered and gave you a kiss again.

You guys separated when you heard someone knocking on your door. You quickly fixed yourself and opened the door.

You couldn’t believe it, it was some of your teammates with Mapi at the front.

“y/n! We are having bonding time in your apartment so let us in”

She walked through your door and let herself and the team in.

You knew why Mapi was doing this. You couldn’t believe how lucky you were to call someone as her your best friend.

“y/n is there something you want to tell us about Ale already being here?” She couldn’t help but to tease you while rising her eyebrow.

You never answered and just told them to sit down.

Barca was really your second family.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Arsenal vs Barcelona

How lucky were you. Your second Champions League game with Barcelona was going to be in the Emirates Stadium.

The team arrived to the stadium and everywhere you looked you couldn’t help but to remember everything you went through with Arsenal.

Before you knew it was time to line up in the tunnel. You greeted every single person of your former team. Finally, you reached the person next to Marta Torrejón and hugged her.

“Sis no matter the result nothing will affect our relationship. You are my sister, my best friend, and my twin. I love you y/n” Leah whispered

“Thanks Lee, I needed to hear those words sis. I love you sis”

You went back to your place and the teams walked out.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You heard the final whistle and finally you could breathe.

Barcelona won 0-4 with you assisting Aitana and scoring the last goal in the 88th minute, taking home the player of the match award. Even if you assisted and scored you didn’t celebrate them, you couldn’t do it. You had too much respect and you were grateful towards Arsenal and the gunners for everything they did for you and your sister.

You walked towards Leah, you knew that losing was difficult for her so, you hugged her.

“Can we swap jerseys Lee?”

“Of course y/nn”

You took off your Barcelona’s jersey and she took off hers. She hugged you and whispered “I’m so proud of you sis, you are on the way of becoming one of the greatest to ever play this game.”

You guys decided to sit down in the middle of the pitch looking how fans were leaving and how both teams greeted each other. You couldn’t help but to rest your head on Leah’s shoulder taking everything in. You guys stayed there until Katie gave Leah a sign to stand up while Patri gave you a sign indicating that Barcelona was going back to their hotel.

While hugging for a final time that day Leah whispered “Next time you guys won’t be so lucky”

You laughed at her words as you knew that it was her competitive nature talking.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

[toomuchracket]

constellations (literal d word (dad) matty x reader fluff)

you have an eight year old who loves space. let's redecorate her bedroom! promptober day 18. enjoy <3

you're applying your moisturiser when matty pads back into the bedroom; he drops a kiss to the top of your head, and you smile. “babies asleep?”

“yeah. alex took a while to get there… oi, stop that!” he grumbles when you stand, smearing the excess lotion from the back of your hand across his face.

“what? it's cold outside. it dries your skin out. you needed that,” you softly kiss his neck, wrapping your arms around his waist. “anyway, you were saying al took a while to fall asleep?”

“not ages. but we had to do two stories.”

you squint at your husband. “what was the first one?”

“llama llama red pyjama.”

“did you do the voices? and the noises?”

“obviously, babe.”

“matty,” you groan into his shoulder. “of course he took ages to fall asleep, you got him all hyped up.”

he sighs. “can't help it. i just love the sound of his laugh,” he hugs you tighter. “same as yours, you know.”

“thank god he got something from me.”

matty giggles, pulling back to kiss you quickly. “stop pouting,” he pulls his t-shirt over his head, and suddenly you're more than willing to listen to everything he says. “they both got your brains, darling. actually, lyla was just- oh,” he smirks when you remove your dressing gown, body bare aside from a black thong. “hi.”

rolling your eyes, you reach for the t-shirt he just discarded and pull it over your own head, before climbing into bed and burrowing under the covers; it doesn't stop him from giving you the eyes, though. but you won't be swayed. “you were saying?”

“hmmm? oh, yeah. our daughter,” matty kicks his sweatpants off - you glare at him as he does, and he rolls his eyes and neatly folds them - and climbs in beside you. almost instinctively, you move to lie on his chest, kissing his tattoo softly before turning your head to look up at your husband. he smiles adoringly down at you, gently stroking your hair. “she's so fucking smart. you know how they're learning about space at school?”

“mhmm.”

“she listed all the planets to me and all the moons of neptune. in descending order of how close they were to the planet,” matty shakes his head. “she's eight.”

you smile. “our genius girl.”

“she's gonna ask you about stars and constellations tomorrow, by the way.”

“me? why?”

“because she asked me and i said i didn't know anything, and then she did that thinking face where she really, really looks like you and said ‘i'll talk to mum about it. she'll know.’”

“what gave her that idea?”

“dunno. maybe your tattoos,” he runs his arm over the three tiny constellations inked on your upper arm, representing his and both your babies’ star signs. “or maybe she just thinks i'm an idiot.”

you smirk. “probably that.”

“oh, shut up,” he goes to flick your nose, but you catch his index finger gently between your teeth before he can; because you can't help yourself, you wrap your lips around the digit, and matty’s pupils dilate. “don't start something you won't finish, princess.”

okay, maybe you will be swayed.

looking doe-eyed at your husband, you release his finger with an audible pop, shuffling to sit properly on his lap. “if you finish inside me, does it count?”

“fuck,” matty groans; suddenly, you're underneath him, your neck being attacked by kisses. “think you can keep quiet enough?”

“yes, daddy.”

“good girl.”

***

“well, that's not right.”

matty grits his teeth, holding onto the top of the ladder and looking down at his daughter, whose curly head is buried in an astronomy book from the local library that's almost as big as she is. “again?”

you peer over lyla's head, looking at the page and the bedroom ceiling and back to the page again. “not right at all.”

“fantastic,” he wipes the sweat from his forehead. “which star is the most wrong?”

lyla shoves her glasses up her nose and opens her mouth; matty cuts her off. “i don't know their official names, remember - is it the big one that's the issue, or the smaller ones?”

she tilts her head in a way so reminiscent of matty that you have to bite back a giggle. “that little one to your left, dad.”

“‘kay. and where should it be?”

“further left, and down. like, a little bit down. not too much.”

he nods, carefully peeling the adhesive stars from the ceiling and rearranging them as per lyla's instructions. “alex?”

your son looks up from his comic book. “yeah, dad?”

“go and look at your sister’s book and tell me if this looks right. i need an objective opinion.”

he obliges, carefully placing his book on the bed before wandering over. you roll your eyes. “really, matthew?”

“yes, really,” matty twists, face screwing into a grimace as he stretches the twinge-y muscle in his back. “you girls are perfectionists. al keeps it real,” at that, lyla scowls up at her dad, and he backtracks immediately, face softening. “and that's not a bad thing, munchkin, not at all. it's just… well, there are limits to how accurate we can get everything in here, yeah? sometimes we have to compromise our artistic vision. s'just a sad fact of life.”

you scoff. “and when have you ever compromised on your artistic vision?”

“when you've told me to.”

“alright, i'll give you that one,” you raise your eyebrows, nodding slowly. “so, al - has dad got this one right?”

“hmm,” alex frowns at the page, his brows creasing cutely just like his dad's, then scrutinises the ceiling; his face drops into placidity, and he nods. “i think so.”

“thanks, mate,” matty reaches down to ruffle your son's curly head (only wincing slightly on the way back up), before sighing and smiling sheepishly at your daughter. “lyla? what are your thoughts, darling?”

she readjusts her glasses, and the rest of you wait with baited breath; there's a collective exhale when she grins. “looks good, dad. thanks.”

he beams. “you're welcome, munchkin. now,” he steps a rung down the ladder. “lunchtime?”

you shake your head. “there's still one more, babe.”

“god, really?” matty sighs, pressing his head into the handle at the top of the ladder. “feels like we've been doing this for hours.”

“well, what's one more, then? come on,” you gently tap his denim-covered ass, at which the kids giggle. “you did agree to this, matty.”

“yeah, when i wasn't of sound mind.”

(read: the morning after your late-night lovemaking session a couple of nights ago, the ending of which left your husband extremely chipper and thus agreeable to your suggestion that he stick glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling of your space-daft daughter's room.)

you smirk. “some would argue that's the most sound a mind can be. a certain… clarity to it, no?”

matty shoots you a familiar look, a wordless warning that you're at risk of pushing it too far and getting into trouble if you don't stop now, and you can't deny that it's thrilling; not even a second later, he's switching back into dad mode, gentle and pragmatic with your babies in a way that's almost as sexy as the dominant look you just got. “alright. what is the final constellation, then?”

“s'my birthday one,” lyla beams, moving to snuggle into you. “me and mummy are gonna match!”

“oh,” matty's eyes and voice are as tender as you've ever known them to be - the sweet smile he follows with is even more so. “m'sorry for complaining, darlings, this is very important. alex, would you pass me the… yes, thank you, munchkin,” the final set of stars in hand, he beams at you again. “i reckon i can do this one without guidance, i think. can i try?”

you nod, smiling just as tenderly as your husband. “of course.”

and he does, perfectly placing the stars on the ceiling in the pattern he's known by heart for the past seven years, the pattern he watched you get permanently etched onto your arm while he held the tiny baby girl it was dedicated to. unlike last time, she's awake and alert enough to watch the pattern form, looking up at the ceiling and her father with a beaming smile on her adorable face and her arm around her little brother; something about it all has tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, total love for your family and gratitude for how wonderful your life is both threatening to overwhelm you. 

matty seems to notice - when he's finished the constellations, and safely on solid ground again, one of his arms finds its way around your waist and his lips meet your temple. “love you, darling,” he murmurs, as you watch your kids look awestruck at the stars above them. “thank you.”

“for what?”

he nods towards lyla and alex. “them. convincing me to do this. our life, really,” he squeezes your waist. “s'perfect.”

you sniffle. “so are the constellations. really, matty,” you kiss his shoulder. “they're amazing, baby. i love them. and you, of course!”

matty giggles. “kids?” he calls; two little curly heads bounce over to you in response. “what do we think of the stars, then?”

alex is enthusiastic, hair all but flipping as he nods. “they're so cool!” 

lyla's a bit more measured in her response, but her excitement shines through in the way she throws herself at matty to hug him. “i love them, dad. thank you,” she giggles when he kisses her cheek, reaching for you so she can coordinate a group hug. “we match now, mum.”

“we do, darling, you're right,” you hug your kids in tighter. “i love you, my babies. you too, matty.”

“i love you, too,” he laughs. “can we genuinely get lunch now, though? m'starving. that was hard work, that.”

you laugh softly. “yeah. go on, babies, go and get a fruit shoot,” they oblige, and once they're safely out of earshot you wrap your arms around matty's shoulders. “for all the effort you put in today… you can eat me before we go to sleep tonight, if you want.”

he hums happily, leaning down to kiss you until you're dizzy. “never wanted anything more.”