#he knits socks <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[palabarian]

Stephen <3

[thirdsonofeve]

The angst of Nacho Salamanca in contrast with the fluff of Lalo Varga

[asinglesock]

send help. it's supposed to be 91 degrees tomorrow. on my day off :(

[stoportotouch]

trying to think if the blue scarf and jumper and gloves that hodgson has all match. but can't actually be bothered to cross-reference them. he has the scarf in episode 4 or 5, the jumper in episode 6, and the gloves in episode 7. and i rather like the idea that they are all from the same wool and presumably made by him by mum (still alive), his sister, or POSSIBLY his sister-in-law. or even one of his nieces, since he has a nice who is OLDER THAN DES VOEUX (possibly).

[tiniest-spook]

behold! my first glove, made with cascade heritage sock in charcoal.

[IDs: several photos of a hand wearing a knit heathered dark grey glove, which is fingerless toward the tip of the pointer finger and thumb. close-up shots show both sides of the thumb gusset and join, as well as the join between the pinky and ring finger.]

it was just intended for practice & will soon be frogged entirely, but i’m still very proud of it! my first complete pair will be knit with malabrigo ultimate sock in piedras as a gift for my sibling :) i decided to knit this practice glove because i was worried abt ladders & eyelets, but they didn’t even end up being issues for me! the glove did turn out a bit baggy at the palm, so i’ll make sure to factor in a bit of negative ease for the actual pair, & do the stitch calculations for each finger before beginning anything so i can make sure the math all adds up ahead of time 😅 i ended up having to make mini gussets in btwn some of the fingers, so now i also know to work the decreases towards the inside cast-on/pick up edge & to Not take sts from the main body, since that makes them quite visible. ‘twas a nice exercise :)

bonus: piedras, which i’m super excited to work with! it's my first time using malabrigo yarn

[ID: a hank of sock yarn. it is earth-toned, with reds, browns, oranges, blues, greens, and purples.]

[fiendishartist2]

christmas at s+s featuring reigen's surprisingly well crafted gifts

painstaking captions under the cut:

(from left to right, top to bottom)

don't complain about getting socks, they're hard to make and-

you made these for me?

*squeak*

thank you, reigen

-----

thank you, shishou!

-----

pose for pictures, mob!

-----

you better be grateful... stripes aren't easy!

(no one's ever done smth like this for him)

-----

say dimple, do you like your present?

i could kill you easily

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look ritsu! shishou made you a pair too

oh... just like yours shige?

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i'm going to kill reigen

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look upon my awesome scarf and weep!

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yo reigen, how did you know what my hamsters look like?

your boyfriend told m- OW!

[parapsychoiogy]

imagining a character takes up knitting or crocheting to deal with Stuff™️ is something that can be sooo personal

[prunelier]

the reflections on showing love via textile crafts, the unrequited crush story thinking about someone so much all the time and knowing you can't tell them so you make them something that encapsulates all of that but only you, the maker, can know what it truly means to spend this much time & effort on something for someone, how rare & special. god.

[drgnflyteabox]

mdni - the 141 find a cozy place to stay during an op (that's definitely all that happens). implied fat!reader

(dubcon, poly, gangbang, anal, price is in charge of everyone<3)

So blizzards can happen in the blink of an eye on high, isolated mountains, right?

And the 141 have done missions in rural places, snowy places, mountainous places, right?

And there are tons of tiny little isolated towns, all over the world, built around these mountains for one reason or another - coal mining, logging, etc.

Now imagine the 141 on a mission, somewhere cold, somewhere isolated, a place that feels like the edge of the world. Desolate.

Now imagine the 141 seeing, in the near distance, a winking pale orange light. It's a good enough place as any to approach - it isn't safe to be caught in this blizzard, anyhow. Even with their gear, the safehouse is still an hour away and the snowfall seems historic...

Now imagine you're sitting in your family home, all alone, going a little crazy with cabin fever. Your woodstove is burning hot, but you're still cuddled up in knits and a thermal underneath. You're making stew for dinner with root vegetables from the basement cellar, it's bubbling and softening for you while you crochet, trying to keep your mind off the monumental shoveling task you'll have to deal with tomorrow

Until there's a knock on the door.

"Hello ma'am, I'm just wondering if me and my friends here could rest until it's safe to continue our hike?" (I love the way gaz says ma'am)

Hike? Nobody hikes up here - you've only ever seen a couple tourists in your life, thrill seeking ice climbers who came and went.

And they certainly weren't dressed in snow camo, hiding guns behind their backs.

But you were raised right, and the man at the door has kind eyes - he's handsome, too, but you'd never say it out loud. Gaz pushes the door further in when you tentatively open it, and in comes barreling three more massive men, their boots stomping and leaving a mess.

Soap smells the stew on the stove and beelines for it, lifting his helmet to inhale deeply.

Ghost sweeps the room like it might be hiding an enemy somewhere- even though it's one room total, the stove in the middle, separating the kitchen and your bed.

Price approaches you all apologetic, apologizing for "these ruffians", holding his camo helmet to his gut like it's formalwear. "Apologies, sweetheart, we weren't expecting the weather to turn on us."

You aren't quite sure how you end up sitting on prices lap, naked except for your socks, while he squeezes your stomach and grunts in your ear not to be shy when putting your weight on him. His other hand is cupped over your pussy, murming thank yous for feeding his men.

They're eating your stew, stripped out of gear, cocks tented in their white cargos.

"We're a gaggle of lucky boys, eh?" Soap says. "Nice, cozy, soft girl. Warm cabin. A man could get used to this."

You wind up pressed down on your mattress, hands held behind you by one man while another fucks you hard, spurred on by price behind them. At first, it's johnny, whining high in his throat while price guides his hips and gaz holds your arms by your head. "Need to thank her proper, boy." The obvious authority in prices voice makes your pussy clench around him, and he shakes over you, trying hard not to come too early.

Gaz reaches down from where he's holding your arms, pinching your clit until you buck against Johnny and squirt around him.

Then it's gaz, who lifts your legs and squeezes your big thighs, locking eyes with ghost. He's steady, only breaking composure when Simon praises him. "Thats a lad. Good, just like that, Kyle." He's the first to ever make you come from penetration alone, hips moving in a way that makes your abdomen tighten and tighten and tighten until you reach the longest orgasm of your life, nearly crying with how intense it feels.

Price ends up flipping you over - nudging you up on your hands and knees, the bed creaking with the combined weight of he and his lieutenant taking their places in front and behind you.

Simon slips his cock in your mouth, staring down at you through the balaclava. You can barely make out a thick scar, one that looks like it might go through his whole face. You lose focus when price pushes his fingers in your ass, though, and you squeal.

There's no where to run except further down simons cock, though, where you gag, spit running all down your chest onto the bed.

"Shh, sh," Price rubs your flank like you're a spooked animal. He squeezes the ample flesh of your asscheek appreciatively. "Jus wanna give your poor pussy a break, aye? I reckon she's tired,"

He pushes into you impatiently and it burns a little, but he soothes it with a palm over your soft, sore cunt. Rubs a thumb over your clit slowly, jostling you back and forth over simons cock.

You come once more before the night is over, tears finally running down your cheeks, mixing with your saliva, with simons come. It's a painful orgasm, wrenched from you - but that makes it all the sweeter.

They wipe you down and spoon feed you more stew, after, to recover your energy :') price has the boys tidy their boot tracks and put away leftovers while he and Simon hold you from both sides. They can barely fit with you on your bed, but tucked in like this - on top of your furs, naked as the day you were born, praised for your soft body and "What a good girl you are, babydoll."

Sigh

I'm sure this idea has probably been written but I was listening to this and couldn't stop imagining it lmfao

[hannieehaee]

Thinking about doting woozi awakened something in me hnnng something about a tsundere man being soft is so fucking cute like you just KNOW he'd be so awkward abt it at first but as soon as he knows that you like it and even WANT IT from him he'd be the softest man on earth

content: bf!woozi, established relationship, pure fluff, woozi is starving for affection and doesnt know how to react to it!!

wc: 610

a/n: i know this wasnt a request but i had to turn it into a little drabble bc im so obsessed with him and wanna take care of him so badly i just need to manifest that need into writing</3

masterlist

the first time you took care of jihoon was subtle. it barely went noticed by him at first, but when he realized, he couldn't help but recoil to himself. it was odd, really, to have someone care for you in subtle ways. it wasn't expected.

in reality, it had been quite simple. walking into his home studio, he almost missed it due to his organizational habits, but upon closer inspection it was obvious. you had cleaned up.

not only had you done the usual superficial upkeep that he was accustomed to doing, but you'd dusted! you'd moved every figurine, every bit of equipment, every movable object, basically, and dusted it before placing it right back where it belonged. the air smelled clean too, courtesy of your good taste in cleaning products.

the cleanliness gave him a newfound energy, especially due to knowing it had been your act.

next time he saw you, he was a bit embarrassed to thank you, but still managed a hug and a suspicious 'love you' murmured against your lips without any further explanation.

~

cleaning his home studio became a more common occurrence after a while. jihoon had at some point formally expressed his gratitude for it, but also added the lack of need for it. he felt badly having you clean for him, so he shyly stumbled his way into telling you that it was okay! he wouldn't want you to tire yourself with such a task!

this was met with a squeeze at his hip and a giggle as you let him know that you didn't mind. he was rarely at home while you worked from home, so cleaning just became a natural part of your day.

he accepted this with warmth in his stomach. it was nice that it didn't feel like a responsibility to you. you just did it because you wanted to help him. he liked being helped.

this came along with various other acts of service you'd do without question. acts which continued to make jihoon's heart flurry with a mixture of gratitude and bashfulness.

the list was quite long, once he took a minute to really think about it.

you'd drop in with lunch for him and his bandmates every so often (which was quite a feat considering the number of friends he had), you'd brush his hair any time he let it grow a little more (claiming you just had that magic touch — which, granted, you did), suddenly he'd have socks on his feet when he woke up on a cold night, would find a brand newly knitted scarf on his way out the door in the morning, his kitchen would be stocked with his favorite coffee mix. there were too many tiny details to count.

jihoon always tried to return the favor, but would always feel like he lacked. no one in this world could compare to how doting you were, he'd decided.

worst of all was the viscerally embarrassing way in which he'd react at your acts of service.

he'd always known himself to be bad at receiving love, but he had thought that being with you would teach him a thing to do. the reality was, though, that the stuttering and the blush on his cheeks would just become a staple every time you so much as removed an eyelash from his cheek.

he sometimes wondered to himself, did you realize? how affection-starved he was? how much he truly appreciated your affections despite being the worst at verbalizing this gratefulness?

but the answer was found in the kiss pressed to his cheek any time he'd stutter his way through a 'thank you, i love you.'

[pepperyduck]

silly bf takuma ino thoughts :3

takuma ino, who was giddy beyond delight when you said yes to being his girlfriend. finally, after years of pining, you were his.

takuma ino, who, instead of the normal flowers and chocolates, buys you your favorite snacks every time he goes to the convenience store. he finds random goods that remind him of you—rocks, a random old polaroid of a sunset, socks that have your favorite animal stitched into them. you dont really need any of these things, but you keep them anyways because they’re all just lovely.

takuma ino, who sighs contently when he plops onto the twin-size air mattress he bought to stay in your room, stretching over the odd material until his feet are hanging off the ends. he wouldn’t dare take up any of the space on your already-too-small bed in your dorm room. sure, maybe the mattress covers the remaining space of your floor room, and you have to step all over him whenever you get up to go to the restroom in the middle of the night; but there’s nothing you could do to keep him from staying with you.

takuma ino, who gives you the privilege of wearing his mask—something no one else had been able to do. his heart flutters when you pull the black knit fabric over your face, giggling and smiling so wide he can see it under the mask.

takuma ino, who loves going everywhere with you. something that nanami had taught him—spend time together, even when things are boring. (those weren’t his actual words but it’s what ino took away from it.) so he goes grocery shopping with you, to the pharmacy, to your doctors visits just to wait in the waiting room and read a women’s magazine. yeah, he looks a little out of place in a gynecologist’s office, especially when you come back through the doors and he bursts with a, “everything okay?!”

takuma ino, who enjoys when you praise him. self-confidence fluctuates with him, but each time you tell him you’re so impressed when he fights, or how strong he is, he’s making heart eyes at you and buckling at the knees. he can’t help it.

takuma ino, who’s just an idiot in love with you.

[charliemwrites]

Part 4 of obsessed Johnny.

(Part 3 is here!)

(CW for nonconsensual ‘sort-of’ free use and edging; and again - dubious consent. Please stay safe!!)

Johnny’s favorite pastime is playing with you. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he’s being purposefully cruel, but no. He’s just… strangely preoccupied with your body.

He spends most nights cradling you between his legs, your back to his chest, arms wrapped around you. The two of you watch tv or movies, share popcorn - sometimes he watches you play on your Switch or reads over your shoulder.

It started out almost innocent (so to speak) in the beginning. He’s a fidgety guy, you’ve known that long before this whole mess, used to smile to yourself when you cleaned up straw wrappers and clean napkins folded into odd shapes.

So you barely notice when he starts fiddling with the hems of your sweatshirt and long shirts, picking at strings or running his thumb over knit textures. When he moved to your socks, that caught your attention but never went very far - just tugging at elastic lace or rolling/unrolling the tops along your thighs.

And then one night, as the two of you are watching the latest superhero movie, he hand creeps under your panties. You jolt the instant his fingers grazes your slit, hands twitching as you debate the dangers of redirecting him.

“Something wrong, Bonnie?” he asks against your ear, genuinely curious. “Is it too loud?”

It occurs to you that he genuinely might not realize what he’s doing - that reaching for you is just a thoughtless action like folding up bits of paper.

“Your hand is in my underwear,” you explain.

A pause. “Oh, so it is.” And to your surprise, he returns to hugging you.

It happens again though, this time you’re so preoccupied trying to beat a video game level that you almost don’t notice until his middle finger glides over your clit. You suck in a breath and die instantly.

“Damn,” he mutters. “Thought you had it that time. Gonna give it another go or you done for the night.”

Stuttering, you say you’ll give it another try, almost morbidly curious about how far he’ll go. Pretty far it turns out. He toys with your clit for 15 minutes before you clear your throat and shift, feeling unbearably wet and achy.

“Oh, shite. I did it again,” he mumbles, extracting his hand and settling it on the outside of your thigh. “No wonder you keep dying.”

The next time is during an intense tv show you’ve both gotten really into. It’s distracting from the weird reality you’ve found yourself in - but not weird enough that you can ignore Johnny tapping his finger nervously over your clit. You swear your heartbeat is starting to match that rhythm - tap, tap, tap. He doesn’t get the hint when you shift this time, eyes locked on the screen as he mutters to himself.

“No way is he secretly her brother. No fuckin’ way.”

You try to ignore it. Hope it’ll end in its own time when the tension dies down. It doesn’t. He lets the next episode load automatically, babbling to you about the crazy cliffhanger.

As it opens, his fingers travel down your slit to your entrance, find the slick there and play in it. Microthrusts against your leaking hole, just wetting his fingertip before dragging it out, up to your clit, three circles, then back down again.

It’s maddening but it’s not enough. You’re biting your lip so hard you’re surprised you don’t taste blood, thighs twitching with each jolt of pleasure coursing through you.

On and on it goes, slow and absent, maddening. Literally just playing with your pussy like a fidget toy. He’s not even fully hard against your lower back! Just the normal amount of mildly turned on that having you in his lap produces.

It’s driving you into a fucking spiral. So so sensitive, so close to the edge, but never enough. You just lay there trapped against him, dripping and desperate and determined to be quiet because you don’t know what else to do now. You can’t let yourself get off to this - but you also can’t find the words to remind him to stop.

When the episode - the finally - finally ends, he pulls his hand away, already gearing up to discuss theories for the next season with you. Instead, he’s cut off as you hiccup, near tears with being denied.

“What’s wrong, hen? I didn’t think it was that bad!” he says.

“You-you were…” you can’t get the words out, give up entirely. Time to see if he really is as devoted to pleasing you as he always swears.

You crawl out of his lap, flip onto your back, and yank him down by the hair. He makes a startled noise, eyes going huge, and then whimpers as his cheek presses into your absolutely soaked panties. Even that is a cruel but unintentional tease.

“Fix it,” you near sob.

“Of course, baby, of course,” he hurries to say, wriggling into a better position. “I’m sorry, love. So sorry. Got you all spun up, huh? Didn’t mean to. You’re just so soft and-”

You whine. “Soap, shut up and lick me!”

He moans, hips jerking hard into the mattress. “Yes, ma’am.”

[luvingspence]

𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙜𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙩

early seasons!spencer reid x fem!reader

spencer gets emotional once he realises how much his girlfriend loves him <3

also spot the taylor swift and twilight reference girlies! and apologies for how cheesy this is, it’s very rushed bc exams so it isn’t proofread :(

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

His apartment felt different now that she was here. There was more colour, her pink slippers were next to his, she now kept tulips in a lovely patterned vase in the kitchen, and there was now a thrifted clothing rack in the corner of their shared bedroom for the clothes that refused to fit in the large oak wardrobe.

The atmosphere felt different too. The candles she burned smelled warm, he now couldn’t wait to come home, compared to how he used to feel. Knowing he would be coming home to an apartment that wasn’t empty and lonely filled him with a feeling that was almost indescribable. It was like having butterflies in his stomach, but all so much more than that. Something in his chest blossomed and happiness spread to every corner of his body when he saw her perched on the sofa with her fingers skimming the pages of one of his books, or when he saw her in one of his sweaters with the most adorable frilly apron around her waist when baking in the kitchen.

Though, today was an unusual day off. By some miracle, Hotch had managed to convince Strauss to get another team on-call for the coming week. After three back-to-back cases, all lasting a week long, Aaron knew his team needed to sleep in their own beds.

So there he was, in thick, odd socks many sizes too big for him, a green cable knit sweater, and grey plaid-pyjama trousers on his sofa watching re-runs and more re-runs, waiting for his girlfriend to come home. It felt strange to be the one at home for once, but it was pleasant.

“Spence, honey.” Manicured fingers carded through his long-ish hair, he jumped. She giggled.

“Sorry, you looked like you were about to doze off there,” She circled around from the back of the sofa and sat next to him, thighs touching and arms now tangled together, “guess you didn’t hear me come in, huh?”

“Guess not.” He bashfully winced, embarrassed by his skittishness.

“How was your day off then, genius?” As she asked about his day she pulled a multi-coloured blanket that Penelope had knit Spencer off from the back of the sofa and wrapped it around them.

“Good, it was good.” He leaned his head on her shoulder and cuddled closer. “It was going to read today but I just watched Doctor Who re-runs, I don’t get to do that often.”

“Sounds good, honey.” Y/n smiled softly and kissed his forehead, “you of all people need a lazy day every now and then.”

Spencer silently nodded and slide further down the sofa so he could rest his sofa against her chest. He felt something cold and metallic against his chest. A curious hum escaped his lips. “What’s wrong, honey?”

He sat up straight, now looking down at his sweet girlfriend. He brought his hand to her chest and fingered at the new metal handing from her neck.

It was a cute little golden locket. It looked to be vintage. It was oval in shape and had floral patterns and vines creating a lovely botanic boarder around the locket.

“This new?” He mumbled, still twirling the locket between nimble fingers.

“Oh this?” Y/n softly smiled down and wrapped a gentle hand around Spencer’s wrist while he played with the chain, “Yeah, it’s new. I saw it in a little vintage shop when I was out with Penny last week. It’s cute, right?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” It did look adorable. It fell neatly just below her collarbones. It was a very her necklace. He imagined it would look well with all of her clothes, especially the sundresses and lacy tanks she loved so much. “It’s very pretty. You look very pretty.”

“You’re the sweetest, Spence.” She grinned widely. She ducked her head and laid chaste pecks along his neck before resuming their cuddling. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He pulled her close and ran his fingers down the side of her arm, his fingers touched her so gently it felt like he was barely there. It was a sweet, rare moment of uninterrupted peace for the couple.

Spencer though, his brain was still whirring. Why hadn’t he noticed the locket this past week? It was more than unusual for him to not notice something new about Y/n. Maybe he should ask.

“Have you been wearing this all week?” She shook her head.

“No, I didn’t want to wear it empty.” She laughed softly, she removed her head from it’s place on her boyfriend’s shoulder and fiddled with the locket’s opening.

“Did you put a picture of Taylor Swift or that other singer you like in there?” He chuckled.

“Lana Del Rey?” She corrected, “and honestly, I thought about it, but no.” She glanced up at him and smiled, he noticed a flustered expression on her face.

Once she got the locket open, he saw it. In a heart shapes frame inside the pretty locket, was an even prettier picture of the two of them. How she managed to get a photo small enough of the two of them to fit inside the locket, he was clueless.

“It’s us?” His voice became quiet, his pink lips formed a small pout.

The picture was simple, they had been out with friends in the summer. He was in casual attire, which was a very rare occurrence, ordinary black trousers and a beige sweater with his usual converse. Y/n was a sight to behold, however. Perched on his lap comfortably in adorable sandal-wedges and a sweet white sundress, she was planting a loving kiss on Spencer’s cheek while he grinned at the camera.

“Of course it’s us,” She looked down as if she had a reason to be embarrassed, “I know it’s cheesy but, I just… I don’t know. I love you. Like, a lot.”

He was for once, speechless.

He suddenly felt like the young, timid, and perpetually awkward twelve year old version of himself with too-long hair and glasses a little too big for the bridge of his nose. Never, and he could not stress the never enough, had he thought that would find someone who cared and loved for him in such a pure, wholesome, unabashed way.

“I love you.” He quickly said. He had never been more sure of anything.

She cooed, obviously enamoured with the man before her. “I know you do, Spence.”

“No, I mean,” He took a shaky breath, “I am unconditionally and irrevocably in love with you. Loving you and being loved by you has made me feel a form of happiness I never thought possible for a person like me. Before I experienced this, love, I thought it would be simple, black and white, but it’s so golden. You’re my golden.”

He’d lifted her hand to his mouth and gingerly placed a teary kiss on the back of her palm. He didn’t let go. He couldn’t let go.

He’d never let her go if she’d let him.

“Spence, honey,” She sniffled. Making her cry hadn’t been his intention, obviously, but he assumes that from her giddy smile and softened gaze that they were tears of happiness, of love, of all things good. “I’m golden?”

He only nodded, but that was all she needed.

“You’re my golden too, Spencer.”

[sinsandsweetness]

“consequences” - part 4 of PICK YOUR POISON - (a dads best friends love story)

part 1, 2, and 3

pairing- (Rick x fem!reader)

warnings- 18+ content, age gap, smut, needy + desperate reader, sneaky sex, almost getting caught, unprotected p in v, light choking, mutual pining, cream pie, poorly proofread. wc 3.9k

notes- i know this took forever, so thank you all for the patience. i rewrote this like three or four times because i just wasn’t as happy with it as i am with the first three parts. i’m pretty happy with it now but I feel it isn’t as playful as the first three. regardless, please tell me what you think:) comments and reblogs are always incredibly appreciated and your feedback means a lot to me <3 enjoy!

3 weeks.

That’s how long it took you to break him. Since that day up in your room, during the barbecue. When he was insistent on showing you how much better he could take care of you than anyone else could. 3 weeks from then is when you finally broke him. And who’d have thought it’d be in your own home, with your dad passed out on the main floor. Unaware of the downright filth happening upstairs in your bedroom. Filth that if he ever found out, would send him into cardiac arrest. Though you’re always careful, and to you, the risk is definitely worth the reward.

But it’s not like you haven’t had a couple close calls. Stolen kisses and flirty glances can’t go unnoticed forever. Your father hasn’t ever said anything. Even when he can see Rick’s hands on your waist, lingering a minute too long. Or the way you always sit right next to him. Pressed up as close as humanly possible. Practically in his lap. Well... sometimes actually in his lap. Your father’s not stupid. But, he’s also not exactly the most confrontational man. And he’s never actually caught you. There’s been no real confirmation of his suspicions. Until today that is.

After a long day of work at your dads construction site, Rick arrives at your house before any of the others. Freshly showered with a case of beer. It’s just you and him in the kitchen. Making small talk as he tries to pretend there isn’t a band of tension pulling the two of you closer and closer with every meaningless question.

“Didn’t know you were coming over,” you say, chopping up some vegetables on a cutting board. Glancing up at Rick who can’t seem to look you in the eyes. Distracted by the tiny little outfit you have on. A skirt, despite the brisk weather. A tight, fitted long sleeve that’s pushing your breasts together in the most enticing way possible. No bra. Clearly. And then there’s the best part. The part he keeps glancing down at while licking his lips and taking in a deep breath. Your thigh highs. White knit thigh high socks that make him want to pin you up against the counter and fuck you then and there.

“I uh- your dad told us to come for some drinks,” he looks up at you again, this time you’re leaning against the island, brushing your hands together to dry them off.

“So… where’s my dad then?” You ask, stepping even closer to the man. Too close, you realize at the hitch of his breath.

It’s been a really long 3 weeks.

“Uh- I imagine he got sidetracked. I know Maggie was looking for him. Probably caught up in conversation.”

“And Shane? Daryl?”

“On their way.”

“Hmm.” You hum. You’re right in front of him now. You can smell his cologne and the shampoo he uses. Damp curls forming at the base of his neck. Casual black jeans on, and a simple grey tee shirt. He places the case of beer right next to you on the counter, stepping in close so he’s pressed up against you. Trapped between his warm body and the cool marble.

You stay like that for a moment. Both of your minds going back to the night last week that you snuck out. To what happened in that truck. But more importantly what didn’t happen. What you’ve been praying would happen for weeks.

Finally he leans in, pressing a sweet little kiss to the corner of your lips before dipping lower. Breathing in your perfume.

“Missed you,” he admits into your neck. The warmth of his breath sends little pinpricks down your arms.

You breath in a quiet gasp when he kisses your neck. Warm, soft lips making their way down to your collarbone. His hands on either side of your waist, planting you against the counter.

God, you want him so bad it hurts.

Your hand goes to the back of his neck, pulling him up so his lips are forced against yours. Kissing him with the same fervor and necessity that had been building all month. Since that very first kiss in your dads garage. Since that day at the barbecue when Rick took you upstairs and showed you how much better he is at making your legs shake than Shane. Since the pool party, the day you were a complete tease and they all knew it. When Rick decided to take you down to the pool shed and teach you a lesson. You had no idea fingers could even feel that good. But Rick’s do. Everything Rick does, feels good to you.

And then, there was the night last week. The one that both of you have been thinking about every hour since.

You’d snuck out your bedroom window just to see him. To go for a drive and park on the side of the road. You kissed him til your lips were swollen and your panties were soaking through.

You know he’s wanted you from the very start. When he first met your dad and started coming over. Well before you’d ever kissed him. Showed interest in him. But that night, it hit him. How much he wants you to himself. How much he loves being alone with you. Just you. But no matter how tempted he may have seemed, he still refused to break the agreement. He still wouldn’t fuck you.

Yet.

“Rick-“ you gasp against his lips as he pulls you up onto the counter, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist. Skirt riding up to expose your lacy panties. You can feel him against you. How badly he wants you. How hard he is for you. How hard he’s been every night since the night you snuck out to see him. Touching himself to the thought of you, wishing he’d just fucked you then, on the side of the highway in the dead of night. Just you and him and the stars acting as the only witnesses to your risky little love affair.

“Want you,” you say against his lips, his hand starting to gently wrap around the front of your throat. His other arm pulls you in by the waist so you’re completely flush with his chest.

“Want you so bad,”

But before he can mumble a response into your mouth, both of you hear the garage door open. You both freeze. Eyes going wide, you slide off the counter, immediately pulling your skirt back to an appropriate length. Rick rubs a hand over his face, turning the other direction. Giving you a moment of privacy to get yourself situated and to deal with the tent in the front of his jeans.

Your father walks in first.

You can't even look at him. Blush so very apparent on your pretty face as you look down at the cutting board, pretending to be occupied with the assortment of vegetables. Daryl and Shane head straight for the fridge. Only giving you a smirk of acknowledgment as their gaze is darting in between you and Rick.

Your father notices. The way you won’t look him in the eye. The way Rick is nervously running a hand through his hair and how his eyes keep darting over to you. He sees it. He’s not stupid. But for whatever reason, he doesn’t say anything. He just stalks over and slaps Rick on the back with a, “thanks man, really needed this after the week we’ve had.”

Rick nods in agreement, taking a sip of the bottle your father just handed him. Rick looks over at you. Something unspoken behind his eyes that you can’t quite make out. Yeah, it’s been a long week indeed.

You don’t stay downstairs long. When Shane and your father start getting all loud and rowdy in the living room, the empty bottles of their fifth beers being knocked over onto the hardwood as their play fight begins, that’s when you decide to head upstairs with a quick wave, “g’night.” Rick is the only one who catches it. Nodding back at you as you climbed the stairs. Watching you sway your hips with every step. Skirt so short that the bottom of your ass cheeks are on full display.

You try sleeping. But every time you close your eyes you see Rick. That night in his truck. Straddling his waist and unbuckling his belt. The way he kissed you so deep. Filled with so much lust. So much need. You’d never felt that before. And even though he told you exactly how bad he wanted you, he didn’t have to. You could feel it. With every touch. Every kiss. That’s why it surprised you when you tried to go all the way and he still wanted to stop you.

“Not like this. I can’t- I'm… we’re not doin’ it like this.”

“Why?” You were out of breath, still trying at his belt but his hand came down to stop you, firmly calling your name. Grabbing your full attention to his stormy blues.

“We’re on the side of the road for christs sake. It should be- fuck. We should be at home in a real bed. Not sneaking around in some beater pickup in the middle of nowhere-”

“Rick-”

“No.”

“This is perfect.” You tried to assure him.

He sighed and pulled your forehead against his, catching your lips before mumbling, “You’re perfect.”

“I want this. I want you.”

“I know. And you have no idea how badly I want this too. But I can’t. I just- we can’t.”

He still made you come. Regardless of the fact that he wouldn’t fuck you. He wasn’t going to let you go home without a proper orgasm.

But you needed more. Needed him.

And now, laying in bed, reliving the scene in your head with your hands trailing down to your panties, you’re soaking right through. Your stomach doing backflips at the memory of his hands roaming your body in the dark.

With a frustrated groan, you sit up. Fuck. A cold shower is what you really need.

You get up and open your bedroom door, immediately met with the sight of Rick on the top step of the stairs. He’s got his index pressed to his lips when he sees you. Telling you to be quiet. Hush.

He’s smiling behind his hand. Dropping it as he reaches your bedroom door. He brings his arm up to the doorway, leaning on it. Other hand sporting a half empty bottle of beer. You wonder how many he’s had.

“They’re all passed out on the couch aren’t they?” You ask, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorway. Arms only inches from his chest.

“How’d you guess?”

“Well… it’s quiet, for one,” you turn around and head to your bed, sitting down and waiting for him to follow.

He does.

“And two… you’re here.” You say.

“I am.”

He sits down. A quiet moment passes and he takes another swig of beer before placing the bottle on your nightstand.

“Y’know, if you really don’t wanna sleep with me, you should probably stop inviting yourself into my bedroom. It’s sending some pretty mixed signals.”

He chuckles at your comment. “Mixed signals huh?” His hand goes to your leg, tracing the band of your thigh highs. You’re no longer wearing your skirt. Just panties, socks and an ex-boyfriend's baggy tee shirt.

“Yeah,”

“I was thinkin’ the same thing about you, sweetheart,” his hand makes its way up your thigh. His palm is rough against your smooth skin, the attention sending a jolt straight between your legs.

“How so?”

“Shane? Daryl?” He says it like it’s obvious. You fooling around with the other best friends.

“That’s different.” You look up at him now, the tiniest scowl on your face.

“How so?” His tone is soft but it’s clear he’s mocking you.

You open your mouth to respond but something stops you. Deep breath. You’re looking at his lips now. And he knows it.

“I wanted you, y’know. They’re fun and all but…“ you swallow. You need Rick. From the very start it’s been pretty obvious that you like him best. Always sitting next to him, as close as you can get. There’s just something different about Rick. The way he makes you feel. The way he was so quick to claim you. How he’s possessive and attentive and so insanely infatuated by you. It’s just… different. You can’t explain it.

“But what?” His nose is nearly touching yours at this point. One hand on your thigh and the other one reaching for your face. Thumb running across your jaw as you lean in.

You’re voice is quiet when you finally speak.

“I want you.”

He lips graze yours and you have a feeling that he heard you this time. Like, really fucking heard you. Not just the words leaving your mouth, but everything else that you’re trying to say. The way your heart is beating fast and you’re breathing is all shallowed. How he can see every nervous little tic that goes through you as he leans in to kiss you.

So he gives in. Reluctantly of course. If asking, “you sure about this?,” while peeling your panties down your legs is considered reluctant. Or worriedly whispering that “we could get caught,” while tossing your shirt across the room and leaning down to suckle at your breasts, nipping and sucking a few little love bites where no one else will see but him. Because that’s so very reluctant of him.

His hands are wrapped around your waist as he kisses down your stomach. Soft lips making their way down between your legs, propping one of your legs up and kissing your inner thigh. He takes his time, biting your leg and dragging his teeth down your sensitive skin. The action makes you whine, hands going straight to his curls.

“Rick just- c’mon,”

“Why don’t you just lay back and look pretty, huh?”

“Rick-” you’re on fire. Need pulsing through your bloodstream with every touch. His hands are holding your hips to the mattress, preventing them from squirming around. The featherlight kisses he’s peppering over your clit are bordering on the side of torture. You know he’s just trying to take his time. To savour the feeling and drag it on. Make it last and make it special. But he doesn’t realize how badly you need him to push your knees to your chest and fuck you til you’re a moaning mess.

“Rick.” You tug on his hair, trying to get him to just fuck you already. You’ve been waiting over a month for this. And judging by the arousal dripping onto your pink, cotton sheets, you definitely don’t need the foreplay.

“Maybe you’d get what you want if you used your manners a little more. Ever thought of that?” He looks up at you. And despite his words, he follows the hand urging him to come up and kiss your lips. To replace his shoulders with his hips in between your legs.

“Please,” you breath out. If manners is all he wants, then you’re a lucky girl. You’d tell him whatever he wants to hear if it mean he’ll fuck you. “Please, please, just fuck me, just-”

“God, you’re such a brat,” he cuts you off with a kiss, you’re legs instinctively wrapping around his clothed torso. And the feeling of his denim against your bare clit isn’t helping your incredibly desperate situation.

You reach for his belt mid kiss and you can tell that his instincts are telling him to stop you. To tell you that you’re dad’s downstairs and that it’s wrong. But with his forehead pressed against yours, warm breath fanning over your lips he dips down to kiss your neck. He doesn’t stop you. He lets you unbuckle his belt and push his jeans down, enough to reach his cock, standing tall and eager. You tug on his tee shirt and he helps you take it off, throwing it onto the pile of both your clothes building on your floor. You pull him in close with your legs, knitted socks all soft against his bare back, almost locking him into place. Your hands are on his jaw, pulling him in as you bite his bottom lip, gently dragging it out and earning a groan. At the same time, he lines himself up with your aching cunt. He enters you slowly with a muffled moan. A gasp leaves your lips at the stretch. He’s much bigger than anyone you’ve been with. In length and in girth.

Once every thick inch is completely inside of you, he can tell that you need a minute. Your breath is caught in your throat as you adjust to his size.

Well, no going back now.

“You okay?” He asks in between kisses. Keeping his hips still as you get used to the feeling.

You nod, “Just- go slow, ok?”

You can’t help the moan that’s crawling up your throat when he does as you say. Slow, intentional movements in and out. Fuck he’s big. But fuck, does it ever feel good.

“You feel so good,” you tell him. You need to tell him. To let him know how much you love it. How much you needed it. Needed him. “Please don’t ever stop.”

His breathing is heavy. Pushing down the groans and sounds you so desperately wish he would let you hear. He’s trying so hard not to come. You’re so wet. So warm. So tight around his cock and so fucking pretty laying there underneath him. Moaning all sorts of praise.

“You’re so big,”

“Rick, yes.”

“Right there, please.”

“Feels so good,”

And your words add fuel to the fire burning inside of him. The way you’re holding onto his neck, legs locked behind his back. Lips parted in the long awaited bliss of being filled right up. Taking him so well. And he makes sure to tell you it, too.

“That’s it, baby. Doin’ so good,” he kisses you again, “taking me so well.”

There’s a lot of hands. Grabbing at arms, necks, hair, faces. Whatever either of you can reach as he snaps his hips against yours. He’s done going slow. His pace is making your back arch off the bed and guttural, almost pornographic noises start to pour from your lips. Swollen and rosy and constantly catching his with every opportunity.

“Shhhh-“ Rick brings a hand up to your face. Forehead still pressed agains yours as he covers your mouth. “Gonna wake em’ up if you keep making so much noise.”

That’s not the only reason he needs you to shut up. It’s true, but it’s not the only reason.

He can’t take it. Well, at least he doesn’t think he can.

When he pulls out, your eyes go wide. No. Don’t stop. Why the hell is he stopping?

“What- oh.” your head falls back to the pillow at the feeling of his tongue on your clit. His fingers already knuckle deep and curling upwards to hit your sweet spot. Those fucking sounds you’re making are driving him crazy. But at least he knows he can last a little longer this way. Maybe make you come before he fucks you again. A little less pressure to perform when you’re already dumb from his fingers. From his tongue. From the way he’s sucking on your clit and pushing up on your thigh, fingers driving into you so hard you could scream.

You have to cover your own mouth. You know you’re being too noisy. And you also know the last thing either of you want is for your father to wake up to the sound of his daughter getting finger fucked by his best friend. By his friend who’s at least 15 years older than you. The one he’s been suspicious of for a few weeks now, over analyzing the way he looks at you. The way he listens to you. The way he brings you up and asks what you’re up to. All of it. And then earlier. The flushed faces of guilt and embarrassment when he got home in the middle of your moment.

You don’t need any kind of interruption. Anything that might put off the thing you’ve been pining for so badly for so long. But you definitely don’t need the interruption to come hurling up the stairs, drunk and careless and ready to fight.

So you bite your lip til it bleeds. A hot wave of pleasure erupts from your core, and spreads through you like a wildfire. Fuck. Those damn fingers.

Before you can even catch your breath, while your muscles are still twitching from your orgasm, his forearms find their way to either side of your face and he pushes inside of you once again.

“Ohmygod,”

You’re soaking. Both of you can hear it. The sounds of your slick, wet cunt perfectly taking every single thrust. So wet. And all for him.

“Ohmygod,” you repeat, nails raking down his back as he lifts your leg over his shoulder, deepening the angle to something otherworldly. Heaven or paradise or whatever utopia you can think up, couldn’t even compare. Not to this. Not to him. The way his cock kisses your cervix with every snap of his hips. The way his hands are roaming over your body. Trying to touch every square inch he can. The way he’s whispering all that dirty praise, telling you how good you feel. How wet you are for him. How fucking perfect you are. For him. The way he kisses the leg propped up on his shoulder, leaning back to admire what a mess he’s made out of his best friends daughter. So pretty and perfect. All flushed and glowing with a thin sheen of sweat coating your chest. Eyes glossed over in complete and utter ecstasy.

Nothing can compare.

“Rick, I- I-” your voice keeps catching in your throat.

“What? What is it?”

“Rick I- uh,” Ricks thumb runs over your bottom lip, dragging it out.

“I’m gonna come.” Your voice is hushed but your words don’t go unnoticed. Your grip tightens on his shoulders as his long fingers make their way down your body, pushing down on your lower stomach. It’s an intense pressure, sweet and comforting and so fucking enraptured that it brings tears to your eyes.

“God, you’re so pretty. Come for me, baby. Come all over my cock. ” He coaxes it out of you. Sultry moans leave your lips as you both reach your climax. Locking your leg around his waist as he fills you with his seed. Dipping down to press a passionate kiss to your mouth. Tongue tracing your own as his hips stutter to a stop. Heavy breathing with your chests pressed together. Thigh muscles straining from the angle but you can’t find it in you to care. Too overwhelmed by such an incredible high.

He whispers your name against your lips.

“Yeah?” You’re out of breath, doe eyes glancing up at him like he’s some kind of god.

“You are so fucking perfect.”

You know that while he means it, it’s not what he really wants to say. As if it might scare you off if he speaks the truth. If he tells you what he’s really thinking. It won’t. But he doesn’t know that.

Slowly, he pulls out of you. You can’t help but wince at the loss of contact. Leaned back on his knees, Rick tucks himself back into his jeans, forgetting all about his belt at the hypnotic sight of his cum dripping out of you. Both of you too caught up in the moment to think about a condom. And too blissed out now to find it in yourselves to care. His fingers trace through the warm liquid. You find yourself flinching at the sensitivity when he brushes over your clit.

“I’ll uh- I’ll grab a washcloth. Just- stay here, ok?”

You smile up at him. So predictably sweet and caring and clearly starting to overthink as he comes down from his high. Mind racing with “what if’s” and the overwhelming fear that you might regret it. Regret him.

But you don’t.

“Wait,” you grab his arm as he starts to stand up, heading for the bathroom to clean you up. To take care of you.

“Can we go again?”

A flash of surprise and then a wave of relief washes over his face as he sits back down.

“Jesus, kid.” He smiles and settles back in between your legs.

Right where he belongs.

-

taglist- @rickswh0r3 @elnyrae @catt-leya @miinbun @murder-jacket @ankhmutes @grimesthinker @eternalrose81 @cl0wnb0yyy @whatthefuuuck @olive3oil @taylormarieee @imyourbratzdoll @fanngirl19 @spidermonkey2423 @belaballs @virtualreader @darylsdix0nn @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @cavillsgirl105 @movidita @flomrpus @summergirl37

(crossed out means I couldn’t tag)

[beansprean]

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Some of my fav Vampire Guillermo outfits from my ongoing paper doll insanity! May or may not be canon for My Familiar's Ghost ;). 30+ more of these over on Patreon lol

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Full body of vampire Guillermo posing with his right hand in a peace sign and his left hand holding up his phone in selfie mode. He is wearing round glasses with gold frames and has his lips pursed as he looks at his phone screen. He is wearing brown dress shoes with a gold flame pattern, brown chinos, and a dark red ribbed sweater vest over a blue and pink floral button down. His collar is popped and he has on several gold rings, a gold hoop in his left ear, and a gold dangle on his right.

2. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing brown dress shoes with a lighter toe cap, dark blueish gray wool pants with a checker pattern, a lighter gray sweater vest over a pink button down with white stripes, and a black four tailed peacoat with a red rose pattern and lighter red lapels and liner. He has on several gold rings and gold studs with a curved loop back.

3. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing brown dress shoes with a lighter heart shaped toe cap, red chinos, and a sheer black button up with a red heart pattern over a black tank top. He has a single silver ring with a heart shape on his left ring finger and teardrop red jewels dangling from his ears.

4. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing rosy brown dress shoes with lighter wing tips, light pink cuords held up by suspenders, and a light pink and peach floral button up under an open knee length rosy brown cardigan with vertical stripes. There is a gold stud in his left ear and a dangling peach feather in his right.

5. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing leopard print loafers with no socks, black highwater pants, a black sweater with a knit chest pattern over a white button down, and an open front beige poncho with a diamond pattern along the trim. His shirt is untucked beneath the sweater, and he has on a pearl necklace along with several gold chains and matching pearl earrings.

6. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing brown wingtip shoes, black pinstripe high waisted pants, and a pale pink silk button up unbuttoned to his sternum under a knee length rosy brown fur coat. He has a white gold chain with a fang around his neck as well as matching rings topped with fangs on his middle two fingers and small hoops in his ears.

7. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing chocolate brown loafers, equally rich brown trousers, and a lace patterned sage green button up under a dark red cardigan with a diamond pattern. He has a knee length dark blue peacoat with a pink and green flower pattern on the lining and lapels as well as red teardrop earrings and a large blue stone on his left middle finger.

8. Repeat. Guilermo is wearing black dress shoes, black pants with a lighter bluish plaid pattern, and a black sweater over a white shirt with a red heart in the knit pattern over the breast. Fishnet pokes out from beneath the sleeves and he has on several silver rings, as well as a thin vertebrae necklace and ear studs with a silver triangle dangling from the left.

9. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing periwinkle loafers, dark purple-black pinstripe pants, and a translucent lace button down decorated with silver stars under a waistcoat colored like the night sky, with a purple nebula at the bottom and black with stars at the top. He has thin chain earrings and several silver rings shaped like stars and moons. /end ID

[ellecdc]

We need dating remus lupin general headcanons with YOUR wonderful writing. Please. 🫶🏻

I don't know if this is my best work - but hopefully this is what you were looking for. Thanks for being here with me &lt;3

Dating Remus Lupin Headcanons

This man was completely oblivious to the draw he had on other people – including you. His quiet, sarcastic, mischievous but kind persona meant he had a lot of admirers that he never did anything about 

I fully believe Remus Lupin was the biggest flirt without necessarily realizing it (or if he did realize it, it wasn’t a conscious action - he really didn’t mean to be flirty, he just was)

Also don’t believe he knew how fuckin’ hot he was: denim jackets, oversized cardigans and knitted jumpers, converse, beanies - like he always looked so comfortable and casual but so put together despite of it?

Stealing his clothes is actually a dream of mine – his denim jacket with patches sewed on and a hole or two????? Need it

Curling up in one of his sweaters and warm socks by the fire? Fuckin’ hell 

His friends knew better than to ever try to (outwardly) set him up with anyone since he was so damn stubborn, so they would just happen to be in the library at the same time as you [the person they’d seen him bantering with in class time and time again] and also just happen to say hey and decide to catch up with you and then also just happen to sit at your table since they were already standing here talking to you anyway.

Forced library dates that neither of you really realized were dates, courtesy of his friends 

Remus caught on after a little while what his friends were trying to do, but didn’t mention anything in case you hadn’t realized yourself; he wouldn’t want to embarrass you

And welcome to the one thing we all sort of hate about Remus Lupin: he of course believed nothing would/could/should ever come about between the two of you

I believe him to be somewhat flighty – the second he realizes he’s falling for you, or, God forbid, realizes you’re falling for him – he hightails it 

Not for long though, I really don’t see James Potter letting him get away with that (Remus is stubborn so he gets ‘his way’ for at least a little before James forces the two of your out of your mutual misery)

I think you guys would grow closer and closer without ever actually saying anything about it:

Sitting beside each other would turn into leaning against one another

Leaning against one another would become the odd cuddle session 

Walking together to class would turn into a gentle hand on the small of your back guiding you through the castle (but also to keep you close) [this is that mentioned unknowingly flirty side] 

Hand on the small of your back would turn into his arm around your shoulder or your hand in his 

And he would prefer it this way, afraid that saying anything would make it too real (flighty), or, that you would deny having feelings for him and that would hurt in an entirely different way

You tried to be okay with it – to pretend that you were satisfied with whatever Remus was willing to give you because, come on, he was one of the most popular boys in school, he was the most well-liked Marauder, he was super smart and a powerful wizard, and he was so sweet to you.

But after a while, you couldn’t deny how much this unspoken space between you was weighing on you – particularly the somewhat routine periods where he’d completely shut you out

Was it you? Had you done something? 

Was he seeing someone else?

Were you just imaging this whole ‘thing’ between you?

He’d get increasingly agitated – almost like he simultaneously wanted you closer to him and further away from him; you’d never know how to help him in these moments

He’d speak more sharply to you, spoke less in general, and downplayed your friendship/relationship when other people would comment on it 

“We’re not even that close, we just study together sometimes” you head him say to Marlene McKinnon

“It’s not like that” he told Benjy Fenwick when he asked if you two were dating 

“She’s just a friend.” He’d said to Sirius, and that one hurt because why would he lie to his best friend? And what about you made it so difficult to see you as more than a friend?

Maybe you really had completely imagined the whole thing in your mind? Maybe he really didn’t care for you at all.

You began to pull away – less study dates, more excuses as to why you couldn’t meet up after class, sitting with Lily or Mary at quidditch games instead, staying at Hogwarts on Hogsmeade weekends – anything to avoid having to face the friend that you quickly realized you were halfway in love with who never even gave you a second thought

He did give you a second thought, though – in fact, he gave you a first thought as well as a third, fourth, fifth and sixth

“Do you think I did something to offend Y/N?” He asked James and Sirius one day – the two exchanged a knowing look 

“Why do you ask?” James asked with a smirk

“I think she might be avoiding me.”

“Does that bother you, Moons?”

Remus scoffed “of course it bothers me”

“I thought she was just a friend?” Sirius taunted

“Sod off...”

Remus couldn’t ignore it anymore – you weren’t just a friend. Never could be in his mind, he doubts. He would be your friend for the rest of your life if that’s all you ever wanted from him – but he’d probably always hold a candle for you; that’s why this divot you seemed to be carving between you two hurt like hell

He decides to do something very un-Remus like and face this head on (thoughts and prayers)

“Hey Y/N” he said gently as he approached your table in the library 

You seemed surprised at seeing him and started packing your things up

“Oh, hi Remus...” and the lack of your usual ‘hey Rem’ furthered his suspicions. “I was just finishing up, actually.”

“Have I done something to upset you?” He blurted suddenly. His assertiveness threw you off kilter – was he...talking? About feelings? You paused in your haste to pack your things

“No?” you said in the form of a question – you knew he picked up on it when the space between his eyebrows dwindled 

“Are you sure? I just feel like you’ve been avoiding me lately.”

You were starting to get frustrated. “What do you want, Remus?” You asked sharply. He winced.

“I just miss you, is all.” He admitted quietly as he played with a fray on his sweater between his tantalizingly long fingers.

“What exactly about me do you miss, Remus? You have plenty of friends; I hardly see how Sirius, James or Peter can’t fill the same role.”

He guffaws – actually guffawed! The bastard. “What are you on about?”

“What are you on about, Lupin? I’m tired; I’m tired of being called a friend while you keep me closer. I’m tired of feeling like I’m being played by arguably the most important person in my life. I’m fucking exhausted – so tell me exactly what you’re ‘on about’ Remus, and make it count because I’m done.”

“No! No, not done; don’t be done.”

“What do you want, Remus.” You whispered dismally. 

“You.” He whispered back

“Don’t fuck with me, Lupin.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at you a little bit. “I’m not. I’m not, I swear it – I’m sorry if you’ve felt played by me. I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel anything but loved because... because I do – I love you.”

“Love me?”

“Love you. So much.” He professed as he dared to step closer to you. When you didn’t seem entirely averse to his proximity, he moved to close the gap – enveloping you in a long-needed hug. “I’m sorry.” He apologized again.

“You should be” you murmured petulantly from his chest.

He chuckled and pressed his lips to the top of your head “let me make it up to you?”

And he did – you spent that evening on the astronomy tower, enjoying the view of the stars as they melted into the forbidden forest along the horizon and the rest of the Hogwarts grounds – and he told you his secret, that he was a werewolf

You were the first person he willingly told – James, Sirius, and Peter just figured it out on their own and there was no hiding from them

You were the first person he chose to let in – so uncharacteristic of the lycanthrope, but that just went to show how serious he was about making it up to you and garnering your trust

This changed everything 

There was no more pushing you away near full moons, in fact – he got nearly downright territorial 

No one else was allowed to sit beside you – that was Remus’ spot

He was irritable and snappy with everyone, but instinctively melted at the sight of you

“I can’t believe we survived Moony all these years without Y/N – she’s like a sedative” Peter muttered as he picked up the cards Remus had thrown at him in a fit during their game of exploding snap. There was no sign of that Moony now – smiling down at you as you sat curled up in his lap like he had nowhere else he’d rather be

I believe Remus was the king of trinkets – his dorm was littered with little bits and bobs he found that he thought were cool/interesting

He started gifting you little things once you began dating 

An enamel pin that made him think of you 

A small pewter wolf 

A cool rock that he thought looked like the colour of your eyes (you didn’t see it, but who were you to argue?) 

Little themed snow globes

Flowers he found on his walks 

Pretty beads/crystals 

Tealight candle holders 

The ribbon from a box of chocolates he got from his mum that he thought you would like

Acts. Of. Service. This man didn’t come from money, the way he saw his dad spoiling his mum was through his actions – so this caring attitude came super naturally to him 

Fixing up your tea/coffee the way you like before you’ve even thought about it 

Carrying your bags/books for you 

“Your shoe’s untied, dovey. Give ‘er here.” He said as he patted his thigh for you to place your foot so he could tie it for you

If you got sick/under the weather, he’d totally do your homework for you (his friends have done the same for him due to the moons – pay it forward)

I think he’d be so soft and needy after a moon – just melt into whatever love and care you’re willing to show him; give you complete control and take care of him.

It may have been super hard to get Remus to give love a chance – but once you got it, you were stuck with him because he was not going anywhere 

Loyal to a fault 

He’s so afraid of losing good things that he’s willing (and desperate) to do anything and everything he can to keep it [i.e., you]

Thankfully, you make it very easy to do <3