#I think that's been my shit for a long time but I'm understanding it and myself a bit more every day

[judyvan]

No Hands - Chris Sturniolo Fanfic

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Summary: After picking on Chris for being an extremely touchy person, the two of you make a bet. Will Chris be able to control himself long enough to win?

Warnings: MDNI/ smut/ chrisxfem!reader/ bf!chris/ unprotected p n v (use a fucking rubber)/ oral (fem receiving)/ touchy! chris x needy! reader/ competitive! chris/ use of "you"/couldn't tell ya how many words

A/N: Time for a Chris fanfic! I am still new to writing, so bear with me. The song loosely relates to the fic. Interactions are appreciated! Pls don't steal my shit. Thx!💋

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"Keep your filthy fucking paws off of me," Nick says pushing his brother, Chris, away from him. Chris had wrapped his arm around Nick's shoulders as the two of them spoke.

Your boyfriend Chris is probably the most physically affectionate person that you know. He is always eager to touch those he cares about the most. Whenever it comes to you, Chris loses all self-control. He needs to be touching you in some way at all times; like he'll go insane without the feeling of your body against his in some way, shape, or form.

"You have got to be the touchiest motherfucker that I know, seriously," Nick continues, dusting the remanence of Chris' hands off of his shoulders.

"Shut up," Chris chuckles, pushing Nick backwards.

Nick looks up shocked. His eyes move back and forth from yours and Matt's, Nick and Chris' other brother. You and Matt begin to laugh uncontrollably.

"Please tell me you two fucking see this. I mean this is absurd! Even when I ask him not to touch me, he touches me. It's crazy!" Nick states completely dumbfounded.

Chris is laughing along with you and Matt. He begins to walk towards Matt, reaching out to grab his arm as he loses control of his body.

"Don't bring that shit over here," Matt says out of breath, wiping the tears from his eyes, failing to reel himself in.

Chris looks at you through squinted eyes. You simply open your arms as he walks towards you. He knew that you wouldn't turn down his touch. Chris stands in front of you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head in the crook of your neck, laughing profusely into your skin.

"Can we please talk about this?!" Nick begins, still completely shocked. "I have never seen anything like this. Like he actually needs to be studied. He has always been "touchy feely", but ever since he got a girlfriend, it has multiplied by a gabillion." The room is still filled with the laughter of Chris and Matt, yours no longer producing noise.

"I mean seriously, I feel so bad for you. I can guarantee that you never get a fucking second to just breathe!" Nick exclaims.

You somehow manage to catch your breath and gain composure.

"It doesn't bother me. I've gotten used to it," you reply, rubbing your hand up and down Chris' back, attempting to calm him down.

Nick releases a scoff, letting you know that he doesn't believe you.

"Anyways, back to what I was saying," Nick begins shaking his head. He's looking at you, the only one stable enough to understand him. "Me and Matt are going to the store; do you want us to get you guys anything; besides some fucking giggle juice?"

"No, I think that's all we need," you reply, letting out a small laugh. Your whole body is now shaking at the intensity of Chris' reaction to Nick's last statement.

"Alright, we will be back in a few hours," Nick says, practically dragging Matt out of the door, him and Chris continuing to crack up.

The door shuts and Chris is eventually able to control himself. He pulls his head out of your neck and looks in your eyes, a huge grin spread across his face.

"Let's go to my room and find something to do until they get back," Chris says, his fingers running up and down your sides. You meet his lips with a short peck.

"I've got something in mind," you say smirking at him.

The two of you walk to Chris' room, holding hands of course. You have been trying to convince Chris to watch all of your favorite movies and now is the perfect time to start. Chris turns on the movie, "Five Feet Apart," and the two of you lay in his bed. As the film goes on, you can't help but think about what Nick was saying earlier. You are now very observant of how often Chris asks for a kiss or squeezes you tighter. When he gets up out of bed to grab a drink, you begin to laugh out loud at your own thoughts. Chris comes back into the room as you're laughing uncontrollably, trying to think of any moment he has spent any amount of time without physical contact.

"What the fuck is so funny?" Chris asks, taking a sip of his Pepsi as he stands in his doorway.

You swing your legs over the side of the bed to face your boyfriend.

"I was just thinking about what Nick was saying. I genuinely cannot think of a time that you went 5 minutes without touching me," you say.

Chris smirks and shakes his head. He begins to walk closer to you.

"Do you really think that I touch you a lot?" he asks, taking another drink.

"What do you mean think? You can't keep your hands off of me," you let out a small laugh.

"Yes, I can," Chris states in a cocky manner. "You touch me just as much as I touch you." He sits his drink down and gives you a smug look, stepping closer to you.

"Fine then. Let's make a deal. Until Nick and Matt get back, we have to keep our hands to ourselves. You can't touch me, and I won't touch you," you flick your brow up as you propose the idea to Chris.

"And why would I do that?" he says, laughing at your playfulness.

“To prove a point.”

Chris looks around the room for a second, thinking about what you said.

“How about we make this a little bit harder, since Nick and Matt aren't here,” he says, an arrogant look on his face. Chris bends down to whisper in your ear. “How about I do some things that make it harder for both of us to keep our hands off of each other.”

He then places an open-mouthed kiss to the spot right behind your ear. He tugs lightly on the bottom of your earlobe before pulling away. The combination of his warm breath, wet kiss, and teeth pulling on your skin, sends a feeling of arousal throughout your body. Chris looks at you with a shit-eating grin on his face, clearly able to see what he's doing to you.

"And why would I that?" you say, mocking him. Chris' eyes trail up and down your body, not missing a single curve.

"If I win, I get to touch you anywhere I want, wherever I want, anytime I want for a week, and you don't get to say shit to me about it." Chris runs his tongue across his bottom lip as he finishes his sentence. Just the thought of having any part of you at his fingertips whenever he pleased made him grow hard.

"And if I win," you start, noticing the tent forming at the crotch of his pants, " I get to wear as little as I want, whenever I want, and you can look all you want, but you can't touch, for a week." You smile up at Chris, seeing him picture you in the smallest article of clothing in his head.

"I think you've got yourself a deal," Chris says, moving even closer to you.

You lift off of the bed slightly, sliding your hands underneath of your ass, pressing them into the bed. Chris places his hands on the bed, one on either side of your hips. Your lips connect almost immediately, the two of you aching to touch now that you can't. The kiss is deep and passionate, the both of you long for more. You remove your hands from underneath you, pulling off the shirt and pants you're wearing. Chris' lips leave yours and meet your collarbone without hesitation. His hungry kisses across your skin deepen your desire for him to touch you. Chris has seen you in a bra and underwear plenty of times. Removing your clothes doesn't seem to faze him much.

"This is too easy," you say, a smile spreading across your face. Your hands reach behind your back and unbuckle your bra. You drop it on the floor, scoot away from Chris, and lay down on the bed.

Chris stands up completely. His eyes roam over your entire body, lingering on your breasts. Lacking a good poker face, Chris' expression confirmed that you just made things 10 times harder for him, in multiple different ways. He tugs at his bottom lip as he soaks in the amount of skin you have exposed.

"That's not fair," he laughs, his eyes touching every part of your figure that his hands should be feeling.

Chris removes all of his clothes, only leaving his boxers. Your eyes trail over his body. Your eyes widen when you see the bulge in his underwear. A small chuckle escapes Chris' lips at your face. His eyes never leave yours as he removes his underwear seductively, his entire body now on display.

"Now we're even," he says. Chris moves across the room and climbs on top of you, careful to keep both of his hands on the bed.

The air chills your uncovered body. Chris' lips only momentarily heating the areas that they touch. It isn't enough. You need his hands on you. Messy kisses are placed all around your frame as he travels down you. After reaching the waist band of your underwear, Chris moves directly to your inner thighs, devouring them. Your hips begin to buck upwards, wanting his mouth on the place covered by soaked fabric.

"Take them off," Chris says placing a single gentle peck to the front of your underwear.

You shake your head while biting your lip. You earnestly wanted his hands on you and refused to help him out any longer.

"You do it," you said, your heart racing.

"I'm not losing this bet," he responds placing a gentle kiss to either side of your pelvic bone. Suddenly, his tongue slides under the left side wing of your underwear. He pinches the material between his teeth and slides one side of your underwear down to your thigh. He slowly moves to the right side of your body and performs the same motion. His intention is to draw this process out as long as he can, hoping you'll cave. Tongue, bite, pull, switch. Tongue, bite, pull, switch. As soon as one side reaches your ankle, you begin to shake them off yourself, flinging them into the floor.

"Someone's impatient," Chris smiles. He knows you won't last much longer.

His head dives between your legs, his tongue licking up the need that is dripping from you. You let out a whimper, gripping onto the bed sheets, miserably trying to keep your hands busy. Chris' tongue splits you in half as his nose applies pressure to your clit. He begins to speed up his motion, his tongue now forming small circles around your most sensitive area. Your legs begin to squeeze inward, Chris' head between them acting as a magnet. You can't help but squirm, the intense feeling of pleasure taking over your body. All of your movement is making it difficult for Chris. He is unable hold your legs down, forcing them to stay put.

"If you don't stop moving, I'm going to have to stop," he says, momentarily pulling his lips off of you.

Your moans get louder as Chris proceeds to eat you out. Your legs begin to shake as you attempt to keep from moving, not wanting him to quit. His tongue slips inside of your opening. Your back arches off of the bed. He begins to eat you as sloppily as he can, wanting more than just his tongue to be inside of you. Your toes start to curl. He begins to shake his head back and forth, his tongue flicking in all directions, only stopping to suck on your ball of nerves. You cling onto the sheets for dear life. You're starting to get close. Don't do it. Your hands lose their hold on the bedsheets and find themselves in Chris' hair as you practically levitate off of the bed.

"Oh fuck!" you scream, on the edge of release.

Chris pulls away from you. You did touch him after all. Suddenly his eyes meet yours from in between your legs. His thumb brushes over his lips, gathering all of your remnants before sucking them off of his skin.

"I win," he says with a cocky smirk.

In a swift motion, Chris grabs your leg and throws it over his shoulder, plunging himself inside of you, burying his dick as deep in your walls as possible. As he thrusts in and out of you frantically, his hands touch every part of your body, making up for lost time. The two of you moan loudly at the feeling of him touching you inside and out. It doesn't take long before your stomach clenches and you reach your orgasm, Chris' warm cum coating your insides at the same time. As the two of you ride out your high, your hands continue to feel every part of each other. Chris slumps on top of you, wrapping his arms around you, and burying his face in your chest. Your arms embrace him, pulling him closer. After a few moments of relishing the feeling of you both on top of one another, Chris leaves your body to grab a towel and pull on his clothes. As he cleans you up, he makes sure to touch you in every way he can. He throws the towel on the floor and grabs your clothes, insisting on dressing you as well. He starts with your underwear and pants, wanting to see you topless as long as possible. Before putting your bra back on, he takes your breasts in both of his hands and squeezes, kissing you tenderly.

"You better get used to that," he says, pulling away from your mouth and sliding your bra on. "I've got a whole 7 days to do that whenever I want."

For the next week, Chris took as much advantage of his prize as possible. When meeting up with his family he would hug you as long and hard as he could. When around his brothers at home, he would palm your ass with both hands, squeezing roughly and kissing you with passion. Even when hanging out in public settings with your friend group, you would find at least one of his hands wandering from your thigh and meeting the sweet spot in between your legs.

[kingkat12]

art on art (eric draven x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, oral sex (female receiving), drug mentions, nasty fluff tihi

summary: why hasn't Eric reached out after leaving rehab yet, and how long does it take for marker ink to fade?

word count: 5,272 PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

a/n: this is part 3 of my Eric Draven fanfic draw you! thanks again for the overwhelming support of this series, and enjoy!!<333

(not my gif!! if it's yours, pls reach out and i will tag u<3)

Some broken part of me never expected to see Eric again. I knew that the previous men in my life would leave the second they got what they wanted out of me, so why should I hope for this one to be different?

I had been out of rehab for exactly two weeks now, and I knew this meant that Eric was out as well. He had my address, he had my number, and he weirdly enough also had my email address... yet I hadn't heard anything from him. Not a single thing. I wasn't quite sure why my heart was breaking at the realization I had been thrown away again-- I should be used to this.

In actuality, I knew exactly why my hopes were up.

The last time I saw Eric, had been right before I was about to leave rehab. We were standing in my room, the guards no longer watching me as I was technically excused and only there to get my stuff. I was packing everything into a big cardboard box, unable to meet Eric's green eyes as he sat on my bed-- he just looked so damn sad, I couldn't bring myself to watch. 

At the same time, I couldn't believe that he was upset about me leaving; no one had ever cared for me like that before. "Why do you look like that?" I eventually asked, stuffing his drawings into a book so that they wouldn't get ruined during the move. 

"Like what?"

"Like I'm about to shoot a puppy,"

Eric snorted, a slight smile finally forming across his lips. "Just thinking about how shit these next days are going to be without you here,"

I dared to gaze at him, watching his chest rise and fall in a long sigh. Even while doing the simplest act of sitting, Eric looked downright gorgeous. His dark hair had grown even longer during the time we had known each other, which allowed slight curls to form along his forehead. Draped in pink, tattoos peeking up from the collar of his jumper, green eyes soft with feelings-- the sight was almost enough to make my breath hitch.

"Oh, you won't notice I'm gone," I mumbled, trying to lighten the mood at the same time as I tried to be discreet about shoving my underwear down into the box. "Time will fly by, don't you worry."

Eric shifted, moving closer to the edge of the bed. He stopped me from picking up the next batch of my stuff, leading my hands into his as his rounded eyes sunk into mine. "You're saying that as though I won't miss you,"

I held my breath, unsure what to say. 

Eric noticed my hesitance, squeezing my hands; "I will miss you. Do you understand that?"

Oh, I most certainly did not understand that. Not at all. But it didn't stop my heart from swelling, beating harder than it probably ever had before. It also didn't get any better when Eric led me between his legs, letting go of my hands so that he could put his against my waist. He looked up at me through his thick, long lashes, clearly trying to make me understand the longing lingering in his body. "Will you miss me?"

There was no question in my mind that I would. I'd miss him every second of every day, as I already did. However, I wasn't sure whether it was smart to tell him this, or whether that would make him lose interest like my previous flings. But weirdly enough, something told me I could trust this guy-- or was that just his pretty face doing the talking? "I will," I said, taking his face into my hands, brushing my thumbs over his cheeks in a newfound sense of affection.

Eric's previously glossy look suddenly became a hopeful one-- he pulled me even closer, my hands going up into his hair as he buried his face against the crook of my neck. 

There was something so sincere about him, that I couldn't help but smile. Even now, as I remembered it. Was I stupid to imagine that it had all been real? That he hadn't acted like he would miss me just out of pity?

This was definitely my insecurity talking. I needed to get it all out of my head-- which is exactly why I ended up going out tonight, my friends by my side as we made our way into our usual spot at the club downtown. Being back in the darkness of this place, music blasting through my ears, brought a lot of memories back; specifically the dark ones. 

However, I wasn't drinking. I wasn't taking anything, and I wasn't planning on doing so. In the back of my mind, I kept imagining a scenario where Eric would finally reach out and find me relapsed... and that was certainly not ideal. Then he'd definitely not want to be with me.

Maybe I just needed to forget about him?

And so I began trying-- it didn't take long before I sat down next to some guy trying to tell me about his life story. I had never been this disinterested in my life, allowing him to put his arm around me as I stared up at the light-show on display across the roof, lost in thought.

I wondered where Eric was. What he was doing, who he was with, where he was. Whether he thought about me at all. It quickly hit me that being sober at a club took away all the fun, and with alcohol floating around right before my eyes, I wondered whether I should bother staying sober or not. I didn't exactly have anyone to stay clean for, as I thought I would. 

And just as I was about to ask the guy next to me whether I could have the tiniest sip of his beer, I spotted a familiar tall frame across the room. I blinked several times, straightening up in my seat as though I was a woman possessed. I was sure it was him-- I immediately knew the second I saw the tattooed poem on his back peeking through the top of his shirt.

As though I had heard a gunshot, I got up from the couch, my whole body tingling with unexpected excitement. This was an adrenaline surge unlike anything drugs could give me, and it only grew stronger as Eric seemed to be leaving. 

Panicked, I sped up into a light jog despite being in heels, making my way through the crowd on the dancefloor. It didn't take long before I caught up to him, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt.

Eric had a bewildered look about him as he frantically searched who it could be that had held him back from leaving. When his big, green eyes finally landed on me, they widened as he broke out into a look of relief. "There you are!" he exclaimed, his large hands grabbing my shoulders. "I've been looking for you all over!--"

I was sure I would've started crying if I hadn't reached for the collar of his shirt, tugging him down to my level to press my lips against his in the neediest kiss I had probably ever shared. I flung my arms around his neck as he pulled me closer, both of us letting out relieved sighs at our reunion. 

I wanted to stay like this forever, swimming in the bliss of being reunited with the man who had haunted my every waking thought. However, I couldn't let myself revel in the joy before I got the answer to my question; "You never called!" I said, my hands now at the sides of his face. "You never fucking called!"

Eric hummed, connecting our foreheads as he closed his eyes. "I did... just from a different number. You never answered, so I had to track you down all the way here,"

My thumbs stroked over his cheeks, my anger simmering down into a slow ache. The thought of Eric calling without getting a response made me feel worse than bad. "How?" was all I was able to say, leaning forward to kiss the tip of his nose.

Eric blushed a little before pulling away, and I was unsure whether the reason for my sudden dizziness was the loud music or his smile. God, he was gorgeous. "Our dealers are cousins," he said, wrapping his arms around my waist as we swayed on the dance floor. "And your guy told me I could find you here."

"I see," The loving look in Eric's eyes nearly made me melt— it was clear that he had missed me as well. But my questions kept coming to me; "Why did you get a different number? Is everything alright?"

With that, Eric's smile faltered just a little. His grip around my waist tightened as he brought one hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear in a loving gesture. "I... suppose there's a lot I have to tell you, now that I've come all this way,"

I could sense that this was serious— I had seen enough of those guilty eyes for one lifetime. "I see," I repeated, pulling him in for another kiss, reveling in the feeling of tasting him again. There was nothing I had missed more about rehab than this. "Let's talk it out somewhere else, then?"

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It wasn't every day that I brought back men from the club— my policy was no men at my place at all, just in case I encountered a serial killer in disguise. But this thing with Eric was different; he could've moved in for all I cared. He could also proceed to burn it all down, rip me apart with his bare hands, and I'd let him.

However, the difference between Eric and the other men in my life was that I knew, deep down in my heart, that he would never hurt me; which is why I let him into my apartment.

I watched as Eric took a look around, his hands tucked into his front pockets as he whistled; "Quite the place,"

Shrugging, I made my way towards him as he towered over everything in my living room. "Sure is,"

Eric turned to me, a raised brow on display. "You're telling me you're loaded?"

I felt a bit embarrassed— I knew that once Eric found out the truth, he'd think of me just as all the other ones did. The spoiled girl who had nothing else to do but turn to drugs to get a high out of life. I couldn't help but grow nervous, unsure how to explain the truth to him; "Well... It's my parents' money,"

Eric nodded to himself, stepping towards me. "Are they around much? I didn't see them visiting you in rehab,"

The truth stung. "They don't want to look their biggest disappointment in the eye," I mumbled, my gaze falling to my feet. "But they make sure I'm still alive, I suppose. So it's not that bad."

There was a silence before I suddenly felt Eric's long, slender fingers beneath my chin, tilting me up so that I could meet his gaze. I wasn't sure what I was expecting to see, but it certainly wasn't this; compassion. "Their loss," he said, the emerald green of his eyes engulfing my being with unexpected kindness. "At least you got a great apartment out of it."

I let out a warm laugh, now keening against the palm of his hand as he placed it to my cheek. "I've missed you,"

As Eric smiled down at me, it was obvious that his heart fluttered at the sight of me. I had never thought someone would ever look at me like that. "I've missed you too," he breathed. "Thought about you during every waking moment of every day. You have no idea how glad I am that I found you."

I could barely believe this was real— didn't stuff like this only happen in movies? "If only I had known you called," I mumbled, placing my hand on top of his. "Being without you was just hell... What happened?"

Eric inhaled a sharp breath, an unintelligible emotion swimming in his eyes. "I want to be honest with you, but... I'm afraid you'll run,"

In a flash of desperation, I placed his hand against my heart. "I have nowhere else to run but to you,"

Eric's green eyes rounded out, his lips parting in confusion— was I maybe not the only one stunned by the confessions of complete and utter love tonight? "I— Fuck," 

With that, Eric's strong hands gripped my waist, pulling me towards him as our lips came together in a hungry kiss. The sheer force of it, along with the element of surprise, nearly had me stumbling a few steps back. But Eric only followed; I nearly moaned out as I felt his tongue against mine, my hands flying up into his dark locks and pulling him closer. I had missed him more than I had ever missed anything in the world, including drugs— all my swarming feelings of never-dying love had me pushing away all my needs for an answer from him regarding his phone, and I let my back hit the surface of the couch as Eric hovered above me.

"Missed you," he breathed in between kisses, a slight growl to his voice. Something told me Eric was trying to melt himself into me to make sure we would never be apart again— it only made my need for him stronger. I clung to him, my legs wrapping around his tall figure as I attempted to pull him even closer than he already was. 

Fuck, his lips were so soft. Deadly soft. The way Eric was nipping at my lower lip, occasionally sinking his teeth into it to draw out a whimper, was making a familiar knot form in my lower abdomen. I barely registered that my dress was gone before I watched him discard his shirt somewhere on the floor— now that we finally had time, I let my fingers run over his tattoos, smiling into the next kiss as I realized we would finally have that messy morning I was promised. I couldn't wait to lie in his arms, tracing every piece of art on his skin, taking it all in— this was heaven. Everything about finally being alone with Eric was heaven. 

"Missed you too," I eventually managed to moan out, feeling him grow hard against the apex of my thighs. "I don't ever want to be without you again." My breath hitched as Eric left wet kisses down jaw, neck, breasts, and stomach, knowing exactly where he was heading. I drew my hand towards my mouth, gently biting down to suppress a rather girly squeal. 

"You'll never be," Eric purred against my skin, sinking his teeth gently into my thigh to evoke a sound. "If you think we're ever going to be apart from now on, I need you to scour that pretty little brain of yours once more."

It was impossible not to smile, and I squirmed against the couch before Eric's big, strong hands grabbed my hips, holding me in place as he pressed a kiss against my clothed sex. However, I couldn't shake the feeling that he was doing this to avoid telling me what had happened in the moments we had been apart. Despite wanting to give in to the pleasure, let him tease me and keep me on the edge through the night, my mind wouldn't let me.

In the moment Eric threw my underwear to the floor, now kissing up my thighs and leaving me breathless, I propped myself up on my elbows; "Hold on," I breathed, reaching down to run my fingers through his hair in hopes of getting his attention. "Eric, wait--"

As he looked up at me through his brows, eyes wide with confusion as he paused for me, I didn't know whether I could go through with it. This moment was so damn precious, something I had been longing for ever since the moment I saw him; so why couldn't it wait? With a sigh, I laid back down. 

"You okay?" Eric asked, his thumb rubbing a soothing circle against my hipbone. "Wanna stop?"

That was definitely not it-- I let in a lazy breath, my eyelids drooping over my eyes as my body shivered at the feeling of his hot breath against my cunt. Everything about this situation was making my brain shut down. "No... I don't want to stop," My hands reached for his, and Eric let out a hum, his free hand now ghosting over my sex. "Just wondering whether you drew it or not."

"Drew what?"

"What we did in that stairwell,"

Eric's eyes sparkled with amusement as he laughed, placing a wet kiss against the inside of my thigh. "You bet I did,"

"Will you show me?"

He hummed against my skin; "Later... I'm a little busy here, as you see," Eric hooked his arms around my legs, dragging me closer to him as I yelped. I could only laugh, the realization that I had finally gotten all I had ever wanted hitting me just as I felt the warm trickle of spit running down my cunt-- my hips bucked up in surprise, my breath escaping me. I was about to prop myself up on my elbows for a second time, hoping to get a look at what the fuck he was doing, but as he ran his tongue up between my folds with a ridiculously soft touch, I could only whimper.

The memory of Eric saying he would take his time with me when we were out of rehab suddenly dawned on me-- I was in for the long run.

It didn't take long before he had me writhing beneath him, a whimpering, panting mess. With every swirl of his tongue around my clit, every time he sucked in my aching bud between his plush lips, I held back the urge to buck my hips up against him. It got increasingly hard to keep still, especially when Eric pulled away to simply breathe down on my sex, knowing exactly where he had me. 

"Fuck," I cried, reaching down to run my fingers through his hair-- I did my best not to tighten my grip, fighting the urge to use his dark locks as handles. 

I could feel Eric smiling against me, leaning down to press a soft kiss against my clit; my breath immediately hitched, bucking up against his mouth in an attempt to beg for more. His fingers dug themselves into my thighs, driving my legs further apart as he made space for his broad shoulders. I whined at the loss of friction when he tilted his head to look up at me, and a shiver ran up my spine at the look of his face, slicked with my arousal. 

A mischievous smile spread across Eric's plush, glistening lips; "Someone's impatient,"

I could feel my cheeks redden with embarrassment, lolling my head back down against the couch-- looking at him only made it worse. "Can you blame me? You're doing this on purpose," 

Eric hummed, one hand leaving my thigh to lazily rub soft circles around my clit, using my slick as a lubricant. It only made me squirm, letting out a shaky moan as my back arched slightly off the couch. Even worse, was that I started to feel a small tremble appearing in my hands. "Can't handle a little teasing?" he said, biting his lip as he watched me attempt to suppress my noises. "You keep saying you've waited for me... What happened to your patience?"

I held back the urge to simply kick him-- but that thought immediately slipped out of my mind the second Eric flattened his tongue against me, licking a stripe all the way up to my swollen clit. It was impossible to suppress the hitch of my breath, and the tug I gave his hair in response was purely instinctual. It surprised me further to hear him enjoy it; I decided to keep that observation stored for later.

I had a feeling Eric knew my mind was buzzing, that he wouldn't be able to toy with me much longer. There might've been a few giveaways that I was at my wit's end-- all of which left me feeling like an even bigger mess than I already was beneath him. "I- I can't," I whined, my words leaving me as Eric sucked me in once more. "Wait, please!--"

He hummed against me, now pressing his lips against the crease of my thigh as a chuckle built in his throat. "Fine, fine," he said, playfully sinking his teeth into my skin, his green eyes watching my every move. "I suppose I'm dragging this out... I don't know why I'm feeling nervous."

Nervous? Eric didn't look very nervous to me. "It's just me, though?" I tried, attempting to catch my breath as I laid my hand on top of his. My next words came out shakier than anticipated, especially now that he was kissing way back up my body; "You don't need to be nervous."

Eric hummed, his large, tattooed hands kneading my chest, kissing along the hem of my bra. "It's just... When you left rehab," he started, his lips pressing along my collarbones. "I realized it took me days to recover after a dream with you in it."

The rush of joy surging through my veins reminded me of a hit of amphetamine-- it was all-taking, consuming, and I wanted nothing more than to press him so closely that we'd melt together. "Eric--"

"I've drawn you over and over," he breathed, kissing up my neck with a toe-curling softness. "In every way possible. Imagined the way you'd look at me after waking up in the morning, how it would feel to kiss your pretty little face good night..." Eric's lips hovered above mine, our shared breaths hot and shaky against one another as he continued; "I want you to burn into me like warm glass, mold into one. It sounds insane, but... how else can I ensure we stay together?"

My eyes were wide, finding his, as my hands reached up to cup his face. Like this, I finally had the time to admire the tattoo above his right brow, the deep scar on his cheek, and the tattoo above it. I stroked my thumb over the ink, holding back from connecting our lips just yet; "If you think I'm ever leaving you, I need you to scour that pretty little brain of yours" I breathed, watching his pupils dilate as I bit back a smug smile. "Do I need to remind you that I'm all yours?" My fingers now ghosted over his lips, still wet with my slick, as an idea suddenly hit me. "Actually..."

Eric watched in confusion as I shifted beneath him, now reaching for the table right by the couch. There, I had left a marker which I had previously used to write a birthday card, and I took it into my hand before laying back down, looking up at the puzzled look on his face. "I'm not able to physically melt into you, but..." 

Eric's green eyes widened further, watching as I popped the cap and drew a tiny little heart on the peak of his shoulder.

I met his gaze, beaming up at him; "I can leave my mark,"

The most unexpected thing happened-- The sight of Eric welling up in tears was not something I had counted on when I let my impulses take the lead. For a second, I got genuinely worried I had overstepped all boundaries until he pinned my hand above my head and pressed a needy, passionate kiss against my lips.

I couldn't control the moan that escaped me, my hips bucking up against his, feeling his hard length grind down and brush up against my clit as our chests came together, pulling each other in as close as possible. The need I felt for Eric was undescribable, ravaging through my being-- I had never wanted anyone as bad as this. 

Mind dulled by anticipation and pleasure, I barely registered that he had managed to pry the marker from my fingers and pull it into his hand. Eric disconnected the kiss, pressing his wet lips against my cheek before propping himself up on his knees, scanning his canvas. "I'm definitely dreaming now," he whispered, mostly to himself, hovering above me as he drove the marker tip to the point where my ribs met on my chest. 

I could only smile, watching my favourite artist at work with admiration blossoming in my chest. Knowing I would be decorated with his work made me even more hot and bothered; I did my best to get a look at what he was drawing without disrupting his process. 

Eric drew a line down my chest, a few leaves scattered along it-- it dawned on me that he was drawing a rose. A beautiful, big rose, with that same scratchy style that I recognized from his previous creations. I watched him dart his tongue out, keeping it between his lips, focused; I couldn't help but find it endearing.

"Art on art," he breathed, pulling away to drink in the sight of what he had drawn on my body. Eric's green eyes found mine, his shy smile returning to his plush, glistening lips. "You're beautiful. You're so beautiful."

"So are you," I held back the urge to cry happy tears, my hands reaching out for him. "I love it, Eric. I'm scared of needles, so I won't be able to get this tattooed... Meaning you'll have to draw it over and over. Would you do that for me?"

Eric let out a choked laugh, eyes glossing over as he put the cap back on the marker, discarding it somewhere before returning to his place above me. "I'd do anything for you,"

I hadn't smiled so brightly in what felt like years. Like this, at this moment, I was sure this was it. He was it. 

Before I knew it, we were completely lost in the fiery kiss that ensued-- Eric's tongue against mine, hands lost around my waist as my fingers hooked into his dark locks, our chests heaving at one another. I was so gone, so dizzyingly aroused, that when I felt his thick cock pushing past my sopping entrance, I could only gasp. 

Eric let out a grunt, both of us moaning into the kiss at the immediate relief-- I could barely believe that this was real, that we were back as one. In a sense, this was the melting together that we had both craved so badly. 

My nails dug into his back, leaving crescent marks in their wake as I let him push further into me. Eric buried his face in the crook of my neck, letting out a breathy groan against my skin when he finally moved. His cock stroked my walls the same way it had that one evening in the stairwell, the exact feeling I had chased as I buried my fingers deep inside of me every night since-- I had forgotten how the real deal had felt. How mind-numbingly good it felt to have Eric in me.

I whimpered as I felt his cock throb upwards, immediately hitting my sweet spot, and I wrapped my legs around him, wanting nothing more than to stay like this forever. Knowing I bared his mark on my chest, knowing he had dreamed of this as well, only strengthened the electricity running all the way up to the tips of my fingers. I didn't know how I was supposed to last long at all, especially when I heard Eric moan out my name-- I shivered, pressing my lips against the heart I had drawn on his shoulder. 

I noticed a blush creep up his cheeks before he connected our lips once more, but it was hard to kiss properly when we were both in a heavy daze of pleasure-- we ended up mostly breathing against one another, Eric's green eyes watching as I let out a string of moans with every stroke of his cock. 

"You're everything," Eric rambled, nipping at my lower lip to suppress another grunt. "You're everything, you're-- Fuck!--" His hands dug into my hips, fucking me properly into the couch as he deepened his thrusts. 

My heart fluttered in my marked chest as I realized we were both looking down to watch our union-- the sight of Eric's cock pumping in and out of me, the wet sounds of our love filling the room, was almost enough to bring me over the edge. I also caught a glimpse of the petals drawn over my body, realizing I was admiring both the art and his body against mine. 

My back arched off the couch as Eric shifted, angling his thrusts upwards-- now, he was dead on pumping his cock against my sweet spot, which had me mewling out against his lips. "Eric, I-- I'm not gonna last, a-ah!--"

With glossy eyes, I watched a smirk spread across Eric's lips; "Let go if you need to," he cooed, his dark hair now kissing his forehead as he let out a laboured grunt. "We'll go again, baby-- hah, don't worry."

That was all I needed-- my heart fluttered, realizing we had all the time in the world to fuck all through the night. 

Forever, if we wanted to.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

This was nice. Stupidly nice. Nothing in my life had prepared me for this moment.

The softness of his fingers running up my bare shoulder, the kindness with which he bathed me-- I didn't even know this existed before now. I looked up at Eric, my head nuzzled against his broad, tattooed chest as we lay in post-coital bliss. I reached out to trace the heart I had marked him with, and I wondered what else I could draw on his beautiful body.

However, I knew I had to ask the question he hadn't been willing to answer yet. I had to look past how heavy his beautiful lashes looked in his drowsy state, and how badly I wanted to reach out and trace the upward slope of his nose, to ask what needed to be asked. "Eric?"

He hummed, glancing down at me. 

It was incredibly hard to take my eyes off his kiss-swollen lips. "You never told me,"

"Told you what?"

It felt as though we'd had this conversation about three times now; "You didn't tell me why you changed your number. Or why you waited to reach out. Or, better yet, why you didn't just show up here... I even gave you my address," I couldn't stop the imminent pout appearing across my lips-- I had forgotten how upset I was about this. "I waited for you. I nearly drove myself crazy thinking I'd imagined it all."

Sighing, Eric's gaze diverted to the ceiling. "I'm sorry. I will tell you everything. Just... could I have one more day?"

"What?" Something told me that his secret was a lot more damning than I initially thought-- why was he so reluctant to tell me? Did he think it would change how I felt?

"One more day," he echoed, his tattoed hand mindlessly traveling up into my hair as his eyes glossed over.  "Just give me one more day..."

I didn't know what to say, at a loss for words. Instead, I popped the cap to the marker in my hand, realizing I wouldn't be the one to deny him his one wish. Eric closed his eyes with a sigh of relief as he felt the tip of the marker against his skin once more; time was a gift I was willing to give him.

I was willing to give him absolutely anything he'd ever want-- I just hoped it wouldn't be the death of me.

(a/n: PART 1 and PART 2 linked here<33 thank you for reading!!)

[oldmanjenkins985]

TW for pedophila since I mention it very briefly at one point I would like to clarify, with all the Tessa age shit that's been going on, that my intent with this was not to prove that Tessa is an adult so she can go on to be sexualized and shit like that. My intent was to prove it was ambigious by showing all the evidence is circumstantial with explanations that both sides could use. And if you boil down *any* character, ambigious age or not, to sexualizing them, that's a completely different issue and one that very much matters. I very much do not care for that stuff, and yes I did have a crush on Tessa once. I was 17 at the time though, meaning that even if she was as young 15 that'd only be a 2 year age gap, so don't you *dare* try and accuse me of being a fuckin' weirdo or anything. I've moved on to other characters now, that being N and Uzi.

Now then, to go along with that, anyone who is uncomfortable with explicit remarks made towards Tessa or Flesha are *completely* allowed to do that regardless of her age. Whether in ambiguity or if she eventually gets confirmed to be an adult, you are *allowed* to be uncomfortable with that. You're allowed to do that with 40 year olds even.

A lot of you who were saying constantly that Tessa is a minor as if it was canon are yourselves minors. So I completely understand why you'd feel this way. The two examples I can think of are @/nuvimuvi and @/kittydragondraws (Don't wanna ping cause I don't wanna bother you with this crap). Your feelings on this are valid and there's no need for you to say Tessa is a minor as if it's confirmed canon when it's not and even one of the people in the Glitch Inn can't give a definitive answer. I don't care that he's not the end all be all, if he has just as much info as the rest of us then why would he come to the conclusion it's ambigious if he could look and see she's "clearly" a minor?

So basically: You're allowed to headcanon Tessa as a minor and be uncomfortable with explicit content surrounding her and Flesha, but that does not mean Tessa is canonically a minor and that people are pedos for saying stuff like that.

Oh, one more thing since we're here. I wanna touch on the Bite Me music video render to clear things up.

So, I've seen a lot of people saying this isn't a "sexy" pose (sorry for lack of better word), but it just...is. And no, that doesn't mean they're sexualizing Flesha, I'll get to that in a moment.

So if you just look up "sexy lean back sitting" on google, you'll find a ton of pictures of people posed extremely similar to Cyn. I'm also pretty certain I've seen pin-up drawings of when in this pose. And one final example: Widowmaker from Overwatch. *The* character who's sexualization is a big part of her design. Her sitting emote is this exact pose. And for as long as I've known this is just *the* sexy sitting pose for women. I don't know where I got that from, just that it's been in my brain for years now.

Now then, let's get back to what I said earlier about this not necessarily meaning it's meant to be sexual. I just went over how it is clearly sexual, so why the fuck am I saying it's possibly not? Very simple, it could be a joke. I've done the "Sexy pose" as a joke for years now. Even when I was 16, 17, hell even maybe as far back as 15, I've done this *exact* pose as a joke. I'm a man, so a pose like this isn't the "sexy" pose most would think of for males and that's why it worked as a joke because it was like "oh, I'm so girly" Now that doesn't mean you *have* to be a man to make it ironic and funny rather than actually sexualizing. You can just be a girl or say...an eldritch horror wearing a girl's skin. Something that horrid looking could be seen as funny when doing a pose like this since it's not exactly something you expect to see. And an even further way to say it isn't sexual: It just...might not be intended that way. It could very well just be how they had her sit. Like I said before, this is *the* go to sexy pose for women, but that doesn't mean every woman sitting like this is intending for that to be how she's percieved. They could just be...sitting.

In conclusion of that, yes this is a sexy pose, stop saying it isn't, but that doesn't mean the intent is that Flesha is supposed to be attractive. It could very easily be a joke or have no intent behind it and that's it. So once again, like most stuff surrounding this, it's completely up to the viewer to interpret it as it's ambigious.

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Living in Secrecy

I couldn't stop thinking about this idea when I was in the middle of a uni class so ENJOY xoxo

"Hey, y'know Rose?" James starts speaking as soon as he's sat beside Sirius in the common room. He seems... antsy; Sirius watching his leg bounce, confused.

"Hufflepuff in our year, right?" He asks. He doesn't know her particularly well. Part of him thinks they were in the same charms class for a year, but he barely remembers fifth year charms. Too much was happening back then.

James nods emphatically, eyes brightening.

"Yeah! Her! I've heard she likes you. Wants you to ask her out."

"Oh, really?" Sirius asks. He tries to muster a sense of interest into his tone, but honestly? He couldn't care less. James, who unfortunately can read him like a book, picks up on this scarily quickly.

"I thought, maybe, it would be... good for you. Y'know, to go on a date." He's practically stumbling through it, but it's enough to make everything click.

Ah.

Right.

He's worried.

Sirius used to date around. He's not exactly proud of it, he spent a lot of time denying a very big part of himself, and he broke a lot of hearts in the process.

All of that ground to a halt when Remus kissed him on the astronomy tower.

He couldn't deny anything then. When Remus' lips met his, all he could think was that they'd wasted too much time not being together in this way. He's not quite there yet, but at least he knows that now. He knows he has a long way to go, but at least he has Remus. Even if he isn't ready to tell people yet, Remus understands.

That also meant no more girls.

He had gone from never being single in the eyes of the school to rejecting every advance thrown his way. He's been so wrapped up in the past few months with Remus, that he hadn't even thought about how confusing a switch that must have been for his friends.

"Prongs, I'm not really interested," Sirius says gently. He does want to tell James. It's pretty tempting, but he can't get the words past his mind and into his mouth. Not yet.

"How come?" James asks, confused. "I'm not saying you need to go back to the way you dated before!" He says quickly. "I'm glad you took a bit of a break, really I am. It's just... I don't know, I thought maybe you've had a bit of a confidence knock, or something. You've gone all quiet about your love life."

"Well, I mean, there's not much to tell," Sirius says with a shrug, panic creeping through him ever so slightly. James watches him carefully for a moment, before just nodding once.

"Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, just... think about it? Could get you back on your feet." Sirius nods dutifully.

Thank fuck that conversation's over.

He skips Divination. It doesn't matter either way, he'll pass that exam with flying colours.

Instead, he opts for laying on his bed in the dorm, lazily levitating shit with his wand. He's mostly just trying to whittle away the time, waiting for Remus.

The door clicks open, and Sirius can't help but smile before he even catches a glimpse of him.

Remus is humming Bohemian Rhapsody.

Christ, it's so bloody endearing, Sirius is grinning by the time he's stopped, noticing Sirius' presence. As he sits up, his eyes finally meeting Remus', he watches a slightly embarrassed blush spread across Remus' cheeks. He adjusts until his legs are over the end of his bed, revelling in the way his heart speeds up at the sight of Remus.

"Aren't you meant to be in Divination?" He recovers quickly, arching an eyebrow as he drops his books onto his bed.

"Mm, told Prongs to say I'd foreseen my own death and was feeling a little shaken," he answers with a shrug and a wry smile. Remus shakes his head, but Sirius can see the affection in it. He quickly gets close enough for Sirius to grab both of his hands and pull him close, before wrapping his arms around Remus' waist. He's rewarded with a hand in his hair and Merlin, he's never felt this way before. He relaxes into Remus, letting his eyes slide shut.

"You okay?" Remus asks gently. Sirius nods into him, letting him go long enough for him to sit on the bed next to Sirius. He doesn't waste a second in leaning in and connecting their lips.

He doesn't think he'll ever get over this. This feeling, this want that builds in his core whenever the two of them kiss.

How did he ever think he was straight?

"Oh," he starts, pulling away begrudgingly as the story comes to the front of his mind, "Prongs tried to get me a date, today."

"Really?" Sirius watches amusement cross Remus' face. He nods, squeezing Remus' hand once.

"Some Hufflepuff girl. I think he thinks I've lost my mojo, or something." As he talks, he watches thoughtfulness begin to flash in Remus' eyes.

"I mean... have you considered maybe telling him?"

Sirius doesn't mean to tense up; it's involuntary. The moment he does, he knows he needs to talk himself out of this. He promised Remus that they'd tell people eventually, but... no, not yet.

"Why? He'll drop it on his own, when he realises I'm not interested," he says, forcing his shoulders to relax and waving his hand a little dismissively.

"I know you don't... I'm not saying you have to tell everyone," Remus says gently, "but, I mean, it would make everything a lot easier, right? Prongs wouldn't be trying to set you up all the time." He smiles, and Sirius really wishes he could reciprocate it. His smile is just so lovely.

"I don't know. I don't think now's the right time, y'know? Quidditch has been stressing him out, NEWTs are getting closer, Lily's finally started looking his way, it's just- why dump one more thing on him?"

They both know that's not why.

"Sirius, it's okay. You don't have to tell him tomorrow, or anything, but... have you thought about it? You know he won't look at you any differently, it's Prongs."

He doesn't. Nobody knows that for sure.

Sirius doesn't really want to say that. He doesn't know what he wants to say, really.

"It's not the right time," he settles on, hurried. Honestly, he just wants this conversation to be over.

"Okay," Remus says tiredly, pulling his hand out of Sirius' to scrub over his face. "Do think about it though? Please? We can't stay a secret forever."

"Yeah, I know," Sirius says. "He doesn't need to know now, though. It's fine, it doesn't matter," he says quickly, waving off the conversation and turning back to Remus. "We've got half an hour..." Remus' face stops him in his tracks. He almost looks stricken. "Moony, what's wrong?"

"It doesn't matter?" He repeats, face going slightly dark. "What, us?"

"That's not what I meant. I just... we're not there, are we? There's no point right now." He's panicking a little, everything starting to come out wrong as the anxiety comes back in volumes.

"Right, yeah. No point. Haven't made up your mind about us yet."

"That's not what I meant," he says helplessly. He doesn't know how to tell Remus what he means, because he isn't even sure. He can't tell Remus why he's so scared, he just is. It's a little embarrassing, really.

"Mm. I don't think I want to talk about this anymore." Remus gets up, Sirius' heart sinking to his stomach.

Fuck.

God, he's really cocked this up.

"I'm going to the library."

Before Sirius can figure out how to make it better, Remus is already out the door. He drops his head into his hands and lets out a groan.

He's such a bloody idiot.

"Padfoot." James stumbles up to Sirius. He's leaning against the wall beside the portrait hole, watching the party go on and just trying to drink himself into oblivion. In his defence, he's in a foul mood, after what happened with Remus. He just needs to sulk and forget about it for a bit.

They can talk about it tomorrow.

It doesn't help that Remus is noticeably absent from a party that he helped organise. Sirius knows it's his fault. He knows that he shouldn't have said any of what he said. Sure, maybe Remus overreacted, but he knows how Remus' brain works, he should have been more careful.

So, yeah, he's feeling a bit shit.

"Wotcher, Prongs." He reaches a hand out to steady James a little as he settles beside Sirius.

"S'goin on? You're being all..."

"M'fine," he answers with a shrug, draining the rest of his drink. He can't exactly tell James why he's being such a moody git, can he? Instead, he opts for straightening up and staring at his empty goblet. "Need a refill."

With that, he heads over to the drinks table. He's starting to feel comfortably fuzzy, zoning out as he pours just a little too much firewhiskey into his goblet. Just for tonight. Tonight he can let himself go a little, and he can fix things with Remus once he's cooled off a little.

Things start to blur from there.

He's not drunk, per se, but he's getting there. He's tipsy enough that he doesn't question James talking to a girl who looks weirdly familiar.

He doesn't even question it when she walks over to him.

"Hi, Sirius!" She starts cheerily.

"Hey. Rose, right?"

-

Remus is sulking.

It's an embarrassing thing to admit, but he is. He's sitting on his bed, pretending to read as he listens to the party downstairs.

He also knows that he's not really in the right.

He told Sirius he'd give him time, and he knows that. The thing is, he's had two months of Sirius gently shutting the conversation down when it comes to telling people about them. Surely two months is enough time. Also, he did say there was 'no point' in telling James about them. Sirius' best friend, his brother, and there's no point?

Remus has a right to be upset about that.

The more he thinks about it, dwells on it, the more he realises that he needs to give Sirius some more credit. Yeah, he's not ready to tell James yet but, Merlin, Sirius is the best person Remus knows. He's scared. Of course he's bloody scared, with the upbringing he's had.

When they're alone, he takes every available opportunity to make Remus feel like the most important person in the world. He knows Sirius by now, he should know that Sirius needs real time to think on this. They need to have a real conversation about it.

That can wait, though. They shouldn't be ending the day like this.

Shit.

He needs to go and apologise.

Sirius needs to know that it's okay. That Remus really bloody likes him. It's okay if Sirius needs time, he just needs to tell him that. They just need to communicate.

Problem solved.

With that, he shuts his book, leaving it forgotten as he pulls the door to the dorm open. He feels lighter, somehow. Hopeful. They can work through this. That's what couples do, right?

He bounds down the stairs as quickly as his hip will let him, out into the thick of the party. His eyes scan the room, searching for Sirius.

It doesn't take long to spot him, talking to another seventh year. Remus recognises her, he's pretty sure she was in their charms class, a few years back. He's sure he can interrupt them, that's fine-

Until she leans in and kisses him.

Oh, fuck.

Just like that, Remus' heart stops.

For a moment, he just stares. He can't fucking look away. It's no more than a second or two, but it may as well have been hours.

God, he feels sick.

Finally, his brain decides to set him free. He manages to turn away as his soul fucking shatters. He loses all control of his breathing, going shallow as he's thrown into the depths of a panic attack he can't save himself from.

He's an idiot.

He's an idiot for thinking he would ever be enough, he's an idiot for letting himself get this far.

He's an idiot for falling in love with the prat.

The tears start before he has a chance to calm down, pulling the curtains shut around his bed. He cries until his throat is raw, until his head aches, until he exhausts himself. He only has one thought as he falls into a fitful sleep.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Remus wakes up as early as he can, the next day.

The others are probably sleeping off hangovers, anyway. It gives him the chance to slip into the bathroom, unnoticed.

As he turns the shower on, he tries to figure out how the hell he feels. It's like he's having an out of body experience. His body isn't letting him feel any of the night before.

He doesn't know how long he stays there, letting the water hit him, staring into space and trying to figure out how the fuck he's going to tell Sirius.

They were going to go to Hogsmeade, today. Slip away from James and Peter so that they could spend some time together. Instead, Remus has to relive what happened last night. It's not exactly a conversation he's excited to have.

Still, he can't avoid it any longer when someone starts knocking the door.

"Oi, Moony!" James' voice rings out. "I love you, mate, but you've been in there for years!"

"Sorry," he says back, trying to force some semblance of brightness into his tone.

It doesn't take him long to switch the shower off, wrapping a towel around his waist and emerging from the bathroom. James smiles at him, but it quickly gives way to concern. Remus must not be doing a very good job at being fine.

"You okay?"

He just nods once, a horrible lump forming in his throat that he knows will have him breaking down if he's not careful. Thankfully, James is slightly too hungover to ask, so he just squeezes Remus' shoulder once and disappears into the bathroom. The moment the door shuts, Remus realises.

Sirius is awake.

Awake, hungover, and watching him with concern.

"Hey," he starts at a whisper. Remus glances over to Pete's bed. The curtains are drawn tight.

There's no getting out of this.

"Can we talk today?" He asks softly.

For a moment, Remus just watches him. He hates the pang of worry that hits him when he notices the furrow in Sirius' brow, the way his teeth worry at his lower lip.

Well, until the night before comes screaming back to him.

He shakes his head, walking over to his bed.

"No, I don't think we can."

"Moony, what-? Are you alright?" He asks, and Merlin, he really thinks Remus doesn't know? He pulls his chest open, rooting through it for something to wear.

"I think you can answer that," he says blankly. When he doesn't get an answer, he turns to face Sirius. He just looks confused. "That Hufflepuff, from last night. She's the one James was trying to set you up with, right?" He watches as the realisation flits across Sirius' face. His eyes widen, Remus letting Sirius clear his throat a little in his shock, sitting up straight.

"Shit. Moony, you know that wasn't what-"

"What, wasn't what it looked like?" He asks. "I really don't want to hear it, Sirius. You said you weren't sure, then got with a girl. Message received." He shuts his chest a little too hard, wincing as the sound reverberates through his skull.

"Wait, Rem, please. Prongs was just-"

The curtains around Peter's bed slide open, and Sirius' mouth snaps shut. Remus turns and offers Pete a half-hearted smile, before climbing onto his bed and moving to close the curtains.

"Remus," Sirius whispers, eyes pleading.

For a moment, Remus wants to relent. He wants to pull Sirius into a hug and make everything okay. Forget that this happened and draw a line under it.

No.

Not this time.

"Leave me alone, Sirius."

With that, he shuts the curtains and bites back tears.

He almost misses breakfast, in the end. He sits and waits until he hears everyone else leave the dorm, not willing to face any of the marauders, really.

When he does eventually get to breakfast, he sits with the girls instead. Lily shoots him a concerned glance, a question in her eyes. He just shakes his head. No talking. Not right now.

He spares a glance in the direction of his usual spot. James and Peter are sat opposite one another, whispering with confused frowns. Sirius is nowhere to be seen, James throwing Remus a glance every few seconds. When he spots Remus watching him, face blank, he falters.

"You okay?" He mouths across the table.

No. He's really bloody not. He's actually a little worried that if he opens his mouth he'll burst into tears. Instead, he opts for a shrug, turning back to his food.

He feels a little like he's underwater, like nothing's real.

Breakfast is excruciatingly long, even though he's the first one finished. He needs to go. Get away from everybody. From everything.

Usually, he doesn't want to go to class around the full moon. His skin is too busy crawling, his head buzzing to the point that he can't focus. Right now, he'd fucking kill to go to class and distract himself. He stands quickly, desperate to leave. The moment he does, his heart rate spikes and he practically blacks out, stumbling a little over the bench.

Shit.

Yeah, he needs to sit down.

Lily's up in a flash, guiding Remus back onto the bench by the shoulders. She swings her legs over and stands in front of him.

"Slow down, take a breath," she says gently.

He watches James' walk over, before letting his eyes slide shut and forcing himself to breathe slowly. He just needs to hurry up and calm down. They're not going to let him leave if he doesn't.

“Come on, let’s go.” She offers him her hand, slowly helping him up.

“Go?” He asks with a frown. To be perfectly honest, he wants to go and lock himself in his bed, wallow for a little where nobody can bother him.

“The hospital wing,” she answers, James nodding like it should be obvious. Remus goes to protest. He’s not that unwell, this happens all the time around the full-

Hold on.

The hospital wing. Nobody can bother him there.

Lily’s just given him the solution.

With that decided, he lets her lead him out of the Great Hall, trying to ignore the eyes on him. James and Peter are close behind, as they walk together to the wing. Madame Pomfrey’s bound to give him something to let him sleep through the day, if he asks.

The moment he arrives, Madame Pomfrey’s sitting in front of him. He doesn’t say much, Lily explaining on his behalf. Poppy nods, listening carefully.

“I think I have just the thing. One moment, lovely.” She pats his knee, standing and walking away.

“D’you want us to stay?” James asks, offering Remus a small smile.

Thank fuck. He shakes his head, trying to mirror James’ smile.

“I’ll be fine. See you later?” They all start to leave, Lily squeezing his hand before she leaves.

It doesn’t take long for Madame Pomfrey to come back, potion in hand.

“It’ll slow your heart down a little,” she explains, as he pulls the cork off and drinks it dutifully. He can still feel her eyes on him, watching him carefully. “How are you feeling, Remus?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Remus says back with a shrug. “Freaked Lily out more than me.”

“Mm. How about in general? You seem a little dejected.”

He stiffens a little at that. Poppy’s scarily good at this stuff, but he was hoping that she’d think he was just stressed because the moon’s close. For a moment, he goes to say exactly that; he’s just feeling antsy, what with the moon being so close.

The moment he opens his mouth, a lump forms in his throat. He can’t form the word fine, it just won’t happen.

God, he’s actually going to cry.

The tears spill over before he has a chance to blink them back. Before he knows what he’s doing, he’s telling Poppy everything. He’s careful to leave Sirius’ name out of it, but that’s about as much control he’s capable of. Embarrassingly enough, Poppy hears everything. The conversations they’d had about secrecy, the argument, the fact that Remus wanted to tell him he loved him. Absolutely everything, through tears and a fair amount of hyperventilating.

To her credit, Poppy listens to it all. She sits and lets him vent everything, quietly empathetic right to the last word. Once he’s finished, he feels a bit stupid. The hospital wing isn’t meant for this. He’s taking up her time. He forces himself to take a deep breath, swiping the tears away quickly.

“Sorry.”

“Remus, dear, you have no reason to apologise.” She pulls her wand out, seamlessly bringing a bar of chocolate from her office. “Here. You can stay a while, if you want to.” He fiddles with the wrapper, nodding gratefully.

“Thanks, Madame Pomfrey.”

“Of course. Have a bit of a break.”

She leaves him alone, then. Standing and leaving with a reassuring smile. He practically exhausted himself with all of that. He doesn’t even realise that he’s about to fall asleep until he’s out.

When he wakes up hours later, James and Peter are talking next to his bed. He blinks harshly, sitting up. He didn't mean to sleep for that long, but at least it got rid of his headache.

"Hey," James says. "Feeling better?"

Remus nods once. He actually feels like he's a being a bit dramatic about everything, but it's not like James can hear that, can he?

"Yeah. Ready to go, actually." He swings his legs out of bed, quickly shooting Poppy a grateful glance.

They walk back to the common room slowly. Remus doesn't really speak much. He doesn't have anything to say.

"Padfoot's pissed at me," James says suddenly, scanning the map. "I'm pretty sure he's spent the whole day trying to avoid me. Look, he isn't even in the dorm!"

Remus wants to say something, then. Say that Sirius just feels awkward after what happened between them. Still, he bites his tongue.

"Well," Pete pipes up, "you did get a girl he didn't know go and kiss him."

Remus practically stops in his tracks, stunned. It takes way too much effort to keep his legs moving.

"I didn't know she was going to kiss him!" James protested. "All I told her to do was ask him out!"

"Yeah," Pete shrugs. "He doesn't know that though, does he?"

The realisation starts to dawn on Remus, like ice water running down his back.

"He stopped her in her tracks, anyway. I don't know, I feel like it should have blown over by now, y'know? Nothing even happened!" James says, frustrated, guilt laced through his voice.

"Oh, fuck," Remus groans to himself. He's really fucked up.

"Moony, you okay?" James asks.

"Yeah. No. I don't- I'll see you later," he says quickly, grabbing the map from James and practically running off. He doesn't even think about how confused his friends must be. He can't. His mind is stuck on Sirius.

Merlin, poor Sirius.

With a quick glance at the map, he runs across the castle. It's like his brain has woken up, adrenaline feeding him, letting him ignore his hip. Nothing feels as important as getting to Sirius right now. He's jumped to the worst conclusion of his life.

It doesn't take him long to get to the One Eyed Witch passage. Sirius hasn't moved, as Remus shuts the map, pulling the entrance open. He jumps a mile at Remus' arrival, and Remus catches him subtly wiping the tears from his cheeks. His heart tugs painfully, guilt following along with it.

"M- Remus, sorry, I-"

"I, er..." Remus starts quickly, cheeks pinking a little. "I actually came to find you."

Sirius' eyes widen, and Remus steps inside, shutting the passage behind him.

"I- Padfoot, I'm so sorry."

"You're..."

"I should have let you explain. I shouldn't have just... assumed that you'd do something like that." He says gently, sitting opposite Sirius in the small passage.

"Moony, I didn't- she- I promise-" Sirius' face twists awkwardly as he stumbles for the words.

"I know," Remus answers, reaching out and grabbing Sirius' hands in his. "James said. Honestly? I should have known. It was awful of me, not letting you explain. I'm so sorry."

"No, I get it. Really, Moony, I do," Sirius says hurriedly, squeezing Remus' hands once. "After what I said, I get it. I'm- Christ, I was an idiot saying any of that." Remus tries to wave him off, but Sirius doesn't stop. "No, really. I don't think any of what I said. I'm sure, Remus. I really am sure. I just- I don't know, I freaked out. I was still thinking about Prongs not finding out, but I also wanted to tell you I love you, and I didn't-" He cuts himself off, and Remus can see the shock ripple through him.

Sirius loves him?

"Shit. Bugger. I didn't mean to-" He buries his face into his hands, groaning. "Sorry."

There's already a smile growing on Remus' face, though. This is the last thing he expected.

"Sirius," he says gently, reaching up and pulling Sirius' hands from his face. "I love you."

Sirius' breath catches in his throat, eyes darting over Remus' face.

"You- Merlin, Remus, I love you so much. I'm so in love with you," he says quickly, and Remus just can't take it anymore. He leans in and connects their lips without a second thought. Sirius lets out a muffled noise of surprise, hands moving to cup Remus' face.

It dawns on Remus, in this moment, that nobody else needs to know. He's been so worried about how Sirius felt, that he'd essentially taken the fact that Sirius isn't ready to tell people as a sign that he didn't like Remus.

Who else needs to know? This is theirs.

They can stay secret for a little longer.

[pa-pa-plasma]

hey i feel like we're really sleeping on that time Danny possessed Vlad & framed him for assaulting a minor

Editing with the clip because people don't believe me. Episode is 41: Eye for an Eye.

[dazais-guardian-angel]

kinda wild to me that one of the most compelling aspects of both Chuuya and Kunikida's characters to me, that I never really see talked about, is how they're heavily set on a doomed crash course towards complete and utter destruction, and how I am so, so worried for them both.....

[jabeur]

okay like the thing is that suicide jokes and such are probably not that bad or that big of a deal if you're not really suicidal but if you're For Real suicidal or have been before and are not doing well mentally and you keep making them and start finding comfort in the thought you could kill yourself if you wanted to. be careful

[stillfruit]

i love not knowing if i'll ever be healthy again i love all of the time i've used to move my body become nothing i love spending my adulthood wasting away year after year for various reasons baby!

[beskad]

me every day: yes, I understand that I have ptsd. yes, it will frequently disrupt my life in sometimes (seemingly) random ways. sometimes this will necessitate leaving work or disclosing things about myself to a supervisor or friend or bystander because it's freaking them out and THEY are now panicking and often wanting to call me an ambulance. this is just a fact. it's fine. i'm dealing with it. most years are easier than the ones before them. it's fine.

me when my ptsd is actually triggered: what is happening right now. why can't I breathe. why can't I stand up. why do I feel like I'm about to throw up and die. oh, I know!!! I must be having an allergic reaction to something!!!! I'm suddenly coming down with the flu in the span of 3 minutes!!! this is so weird!!!!!!!

[hajihiko]

You can correct me if I'm wrong, but from my understanding, your current brainrot is supportive found family platonic soulmates who have been through thick and thin together with hints of something more affectionate beneath the surface?

So basically, like usual your brainrot is just your version of the Dr2 survivors XD

YEAH.... it just flares up sometimes lmao. Like a disease

[thebleedingeffect]

.

[aeide-thea]

god i know that complaining abt fic which most of you haven't read, and which i won't, for politeness' sake, identify in this post, is a great way to come across as both dickish and boring—

but i've been rereading a very long, very satisfyingly plotty series that's a fandom darling and the thing is, when you read like 400k of an author's work at once it really starts to become painfully apparent what their priorities are, by which i mean two things:

holy shit they're obsessed with 'what if strong powerful men who could hurt you didn't (but did hurt Bad Guys) (and it was sexy of them),' which leads into

holy shit they do not appear to have thought through the implications of saying 'i will have my heroes take over the same power structures that have enabled abuse, make no real changes to those structures other than swapping out the leadership, and then claim that everything is wonderful now bc Good Men Are In Charge'??

like. i don't necessarily need every passing fantasy to present me with a coherent, revolutionary system of politics and ethics—sometimes things are just fun and sexy and not especially Examined and that's fine!—but by the time someone's written literally almost half a million words, and done a lot of worldbuilding while they were at it, i am going to start squinting if they seem to think a Good Man can e.g. become an emperor by killing off the leadership of multiple countries and installing puppet kings loyal to him and still remain a Good Man, even if the justification was that the original leadership was maltreating its citizens and deserved to be extrajudicially executed. like. this shit was a bad, autocratic move when the US did it in real life and it's still bad now that you're having our mutual blorbo do it in fiction! and that's not even getting into the whole thing where like. they've got servants who the Good Man and his friends ""treat well"" but who very much remain second-class citizens in terms of how the story actually frames them and their concerns. [this was also a huge issue i had with foz m*adows' most recent book—everyone wants to write about fantasy nobles but they also want to make them good people and it's like. honestly i think it might be better to get comfortable writing about flawed people, but also—if your aristos aren't treating their servants like equals and your text isn't either, you haven't actually cracked the Moral Aristo paradox, sorry!] like, there's nothing that says your story has to depict a fully Healed World, nor should there be! but it's troubling if you seem to be convinced you've written one (and have your wide-eyed love interests constantly marveling at it!) when you very patently haven't.

[daydreamingoncloud9]

[beeseverywhen]

Still makes me so mad that the hospital stole my teeth when I was too out of it from the anesthesia to fight them on it. I grew those! Just because they turned on me and I needed them out of my body, doesn't mean I didn't want to keep them.

[chonideno]

I can't tell exactly when things changed like that but it all feels so much more real. fleshier. more livable. my body's always been a house and now it's a home and actually my whole life is a home.

last week I was travelling for work and I enjoyed going for pointless walks in the snow. I befriended a kind old man in the lobby of the congress venue and he called me lovely with all the well-meaning warmth of a long-time neighbor. since I came back home my cat hasn't stopped smothering me with love. tonight my rowing coach told me he wants me in a racing boat next summer. the group chat is looking forward to our lunch tomorrow. my mom will be waiting for me at the train station later this week.

and none of these are huge things? the big things (job, apartment, general prospects) are the same as they've been for over a year.

but there's so much love everywhere and I'm not scared of it, and I'm also not overwhelmed by it. it's soft and warm. it's fleeting but will always come back in a way or another, with another face, feeling slightly different. it'll always find me and I'll always find it. life really is a unique experience dude.

[supercantaloupe]

i had a meeting to discuss the grad fellowship job and while it was overwhelmingly positive and both myself and the professor/faculty are happy and excited for me to take the job my stupid fucking brain can't stop turning over the one (1) slightly negative comment i got regarding my candidacy/qualification like shawarma