#one of the first few times I draw Moon and it's not really *Moon* Moon now is it---

[d-ave-awn]

Color swap Sun & Moon anyone? 👀

Individual drawings under the cut ‘cause why not ¯⁠\⁠⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠⁠/⁠¯

[starry-bi-sky]

don't you want to be a cult leader? - danyal al ghul au

this is mostly a joke post but i thought it was funny and had to share so--

his first mistake was, obviously, inheriting his father's inability to see an injustice and stand still. -- actually, danyal's first mistake was his lair being so big. a mountainous island with a large temple in the center resembling his old home in Nanda Parbat? With sprawling foliage and rivers and streams and waterfalls galore? What was he going to do with all that space? Let it go to waste? He had plants there! Native trees of the ghost zone growing from the soil! He couldn't let it all be left unchecked!

So naturally after helping a fellow teenage assassin ghost -- who he later learns is named Akihiko, -- from Walker of all people, he sent them over to hang low at his lair until it was safe enough for them to wander around the Zone. Walker couldn't get through Danyal's astrofield if his life depended on it, and trust him -- he's tried. Danny was clearing out debris from his stupid transport vans for weeks.

Honestly it wasn't so bad, he and Aki really quickly became fast friends and Danny loves having a sparring partner close to his level again -- he hasn't had this much fun fighting since he left the League. Aki was very dedicated and levelheaded, the both of them clicked really well because of it.

Nonono, the real trouble began after Danyal met some long-passed League members and allowed them to come join his island as well. Apparently they had made a few enemies of the zone, and maybe Danyal still felt some loyalty to the League. He couldn't just let them be left to rot. Their zealotry could be overlooked so long as they kept it contained and helped him take care of his island.

And it.. snowballs from there? He meets a teen squire aptly calling himself Ambroise -- whether that was his living name or not is yet to be seen -- who died during feudal france, who is just about as dramatic and passionate as every french stereotype makes them out to be. He calls Danyal "my moon and great muse" -- which is both flattering and little uncomfortable, but Danyal's grown up in the League as the Grandson of the Demon Head, he is used to mild worship. he passes it off as nothing more, nothing less. -- and while his energy is overwhelming on the worst of days, he helps Danny draw out of his shell more in ways that Sam and Tucker still struggle with.

Him and Aki butt heads a lot, but the two seem to hold the other in at least some positive regard, so Danny doesn't worry too much about them fighting while he's gone. It only becomes a mild issue when Aki also begins calling Danny "my moon". It's a little sweet, so Danyal brushes it off.

Then he takes in a troupe of ghosts some time after he defeats Pariah Dark and they begin calling him "great one" just as the yetis do in the far frozen. This is where he meets the twins -- a pair of sibling ghosts who call themselves Trixie and Missy (short for Trick and Mislead) -- who aren't quite as passionate as Ambroise but more energetic than Aki. Eventually they also start calling Danyal "my moon" and attach themselves to his hip, even within the living. They like to hide in his shadow and cause trouble for the rest of the students. He makes sure they don't hurt anyone.

He's pretty sure Aki is jealous, same with Ambroise, but he can't be too certain other than the fact that they become much more lingering (re: clingy) whenever he visits the island.. Something he's trying to do much more often these days due to the increasing amount of people living there now. Since when did he become so popular?

Then there's Pēnelópeia from the Greater Athens, who ran away from home and joined his Island after he ran into her while she was being chased by Skulker -- and he's pretty sure the reason was because of her chimeric appearance. Her strange eyes and mismatched wings and lion's tail and talons. She assimilates into his friend group very easily, she gets along well with Ambroise and Trixie and Danny usually finds the three of them climbing the trees to pluck the most fruit from the top. They can fly and he knows it, but they prefer to climb.

Then finally there's silent poet Akkara who comes from ancient mesopotamia, who gets along most with Aki -- which is no surprise there considering their similar personality dispositions. he watches Aki and Danyal fight each other and leaves comments on this or that that he notices. He writes Danyal poems on clay tablets and leaves them by his room.

They're one big mismatched group of outcasts, and Danny's got the other ghosts on his island to tend to, because they're living on his island and he wants to be hospitable even if he struggles with that. But he spends the most of his time with them.

Sam and Tucker are making fun of him. Tucker jokingly tells him 'careful Danny, at this rate you're gonna start a cult'. Danny really wishes he had taken that joke more seriously.

He just. keeps. collecting people. Wayward souls lost in the zone, looking for shelter or refuge from something or other -- whether that be another hostile ghost, or a past afterlife, or just a purpose. Danyal finds them, he takes them in, offers them a place on his island until they are ready to leave. Many seldom do. He's not complaining -- he has the space, and it feels like it's only ever growing.

His close friends, his "inner circle" as he's heard the others call them, keep insistently calling him "my moon". He starts calling them his stars, because then it only feels fair. They're his stars, this is his constellation. It becomes a thing; little star halos begin forming behind their heads, picking them out from the rest. He loves them so much, it's hard to place. Sam and Tucker are also his stars, but they reside in the living realm, they're his tie to Life. Meanwhile, his friends here know what it's like to be dead, and sometimes its nice to relate.

Those living on his island keep calling him "Great One" and he's beginning to notice zealotry in their care for his island. He really, deeply appreciates it. His close friends gain nicknames -- as his stars, it's only natural for him to pick them out from the cluster in the skies. Akihiko, his Sirius and bright star. Trix and Missy, Castor and Pollux, the twins and troublemakers. Ambroise, his zealous Antares and close friend. Penelopeia, chimeric and loyal Vega. And Akkara, his Arcturus and strength.

It's ridiculous how long it takes for him to notice; he is, of course, a deadly trained assassin. He is meant to be observant -- and normally he is! But somehow this becomes a blind spot. One that becomes too big to be dealt with by the time he realizes it.

He should've noticed when Aki, his Sirius, stood beside him one day while Danyal looked over his island and saw the sprawling spirits carrying on about their afterlife and bowing to him as they saw him, and said: "I looked down into the depths when I met you; I couldn't measure it." They aren't one for flowing prose, it took him so off guard he was silent for over a minute before he finally spoke.

Danyal should've recognized devotion for what it is, and yet he didn't. He should've recognized it when Antares began spouting praises about him, crowing about his radiance and resplendence to the heavens. He just brushed it off as Ambroise being Ambroise. He should've recognized it when Trix and Missy nearly broke Dash's leg after he knocked Danyal's books out of his hands, he excused it as them being protective. Of them coming from times where such violence may have been customary -- after all, that's what he used to be like. What he was still like, sometimes, when his emotions nearly got the better of him.

He should've noticed it when the people living on his island followed his word like gospel, looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. When his friends gifted him a shawl with the moon phases delicately embroidered into it, with silver, shimmering thread and moving stars lovingly stitched into it. Their constellations seen clear as day in the dark fabric. When he found small shrines dedicated to him -- but they lacked any image of him beyond stones carved to look like moons, so he ignored it. When the religious imagery began popping up.

He really, really should've noticed it when a bunch of cultists accidentally summoned Antares, and Antares had turned to him when he arrived and called them heretics. But he was so centered on the fact that they had kidnapped one of his stars, that he hadn't paid much attention to what Ambroise had said.

Sages say that faith is blind, they should also say faith in you is even blinder.

It really only hits him one afternoon while he's sitting in Sam's room studying with Tucker, Missy and Trixie lounging at his feet, Aki sat on his right, Penelopeia braiding his hair, Ambroise draped against him, and Akkara lurking over him. Its one of the rare few times they're all in one room together.

It hits him like a bolt of lightning. He looks up from his textbook. "Oh Ancients," he says in no amounting shock. Everyone looks up to him.

"I've become my grandfather."

[goldsainz]

❝ NSFW ALPHABET ❞

MASTERLIST!

pairing . . . jacaerys velaryon x reader

◦∘｡ﾟ. warnings . . . MINORS DNI! lewd language, smut (breeding kink, creampie (?), lactation kink, overstimulation, oral (fem receiving), worshipping).

◦∘｡ﾟ. summary . . . jacaerys' behaviour in the bedroom.

◦∘｡ﾟ. note . . . i am so so so happy to be writing for hotd again, i’m enjoying season 2 so much and i can’t wait for it to be sunday tbh. i haven’t written smut in YEARS (literally) so if this is bad it’s because i am quite rusty😔 requests are open (for aemond & jacaerys)!

[ word count: 2,2k ]

A — AFTERCARE . . . what they're like after sex!

Jacaerys was raised to be a proper prince, and with that, he learned how to respect women. He’s so gentle, drawing a bath himself and making sure you feel at comfort. Anything you need he will make sure you have. When you’re both back in bed, he cuddles you and falls asleep whispering sweet nothings.

B — BODY PART . . . their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner's!

THEIRS . . . He loves his hands, mostly because you love them. Loves to use them to hold you incredibly close, to cup your cheeks when he leans in for a kiss, or just loves them when you take his hand and proudly walk alongside him, hand in hand.

YOURS . . . He loves your tummy. Loves peppering kisses on it, resting his head and falling asleep soundly while you run your hands through his hair. If you ever get pregnant it will be a hassle to get him off you and your tummy.

C — CUM . . . anything to do with cum, basically!

Even if he didn’t have a duty to get you pregnant, he would still be cumming inside you. It’s quite the primal urge he has to make sure everyone knows you’re his. It doesn't matter what you're doing, he will not cum anywhere else but inside you. If he sees his cum dripping out of you, he will push it back into you either with his fingers or simply with his cock.

D — DIRTY SECRET . . . pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs!

Jacaerys is quite comfortable in being the giver of the relationship, but sometimes he fantasies about you taking over in the bedroom. To be the one crying from overstimulation, to have you take care of him. 

E — EXPERIENCE . . . how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?

He was one of the few men to save themselves for marriage, though not because of purity but more so because he never felt the urge to go to a brothel and have his first sexual experience be with a whore. Despite this, he does know what he’s doing. He had a talk with Daemon one time many moons ago, and because of it he’s gained some knowledge. But he only learns the true meaning of pleasure with you. 

F — FAVOURITE POSITION . . . this goes without saying!

Cowgirl. As previously stated, he loves the idea of you dominating him and while that isn't quite it, you on top makes him lose his mind. He also knows how much you enjoy the position, with him hitting you just right, as you once put it. With you controlling the pace and how much you take in, Jacaerys can perfectly take in the beautiful sight of your blissed-out face. 

G — GOOFY . . . are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.

When he’s in the bedroom he’s quite focused on making sure you’re okay and feel good, so there is no time to be humorous. Still, things happen and a giggle or two slip out when he’s going at it too hard and bumps your head against the bed frame, or when you're both desperate and trip over your clothes. Jacaerys doesn't necessarily try to make your intimate moments funny, but he doesn't stop it if it happens. 

H — HAIR . . . how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.

Before you he didn’t really care about grooming, but the days prior to your wedding night he decided to look his best. You have never asked him to groom himself, but he feels as though he has to. He knows how much you take care of yourself, why wouldn’t he do the same? As for the carpet matching the drapes they do. It’s a deep brown and slightly curly, just like the hair on his head.

I — INTIMACY . . . how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect.

Jacaerys is very romantic. He’s tender and sweet from beginning to the end, mostly because he’s madly in love with you, but also because he wants to take his time with you. He’s a big fan of eye contact, handholding, and kissing. Any opportunity he has where he can feel more connected to you, he will take it. Confessions of love and adoration are not rare, an “I love you” slipping from his lips when he’s thrusting inside you, or the looks he gives you that make you feel what he’s feeling. You don’t have just sex, you make love.

J — JACK OFF . . . masturbation headcanon!

He doesn’t often masturbate, only in situations when he’s away from you and misses you dearly. Truly, he gets needy. Usually, he waits until he’s back home with you and releases all that pent up tension onto you. But sometimes, when he longs for you and can’t have you, he resorts to his hand. It doesn't measure up to what your touch feels like, at all, but it does the job to at least quell some of the fire burning up inside him.

K — KINK . . .one or more of their kinks!

As previously mentioned this man wants you pregnant so bad. His breeding kink is very obvious to you, from the way he whispers in your ear how much he wants to see you pregnant, to see his seed take and make you swell with his baby, you want it as much as him, and that just makes him more feral. The Velaryon Prince loves feeling needed, which is why edging is one of his favourite ways to make you crave him as much as he craves you. Your desperate pleas to come fall to deaf ears, as he enjoys your whining and writhing just as much as the sight of you orgasming.

L — LOCATION . . . favourite places to do the deed!

Always somewhere private. Jacaerys is not much of an exhibitionist, although he likes people knowing you’re his, he also doesn’t want anyone else to be able to see you in a compromising position. That sight is sacred, reserved only to him only. As for a specific place, he thoroughly enjoys having sex in your bed. Maybe it's because of how intimate it is or that he knows there’s no way you'll be uncomfortable, but that is his preferred place.

M — MOTIVATION . . . what turns them on, gets them going!

Anything that you do is enough. Sometimes he fears how much power you have over him, how he’s so enamoured and almost obsessed with you. He gets turned on pretty easily when he’s around you, it doesn't take more than you speaking at him in your sweet, honeyed voice for him to be hard. 

N — NO . . . something they wouldn't do, turn offs!

Any type of experience where he has to share you with someone. No to threesome, no to exhibitionsim, and no to cuckolding. He also does not like seeing you get hurt, if he even suspects you’re not liking something he’ll stop until you’re comfortable. 

O — ORAL . . . preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.

Jacaerys doesn’t dislike the feeling of your mouth on his cock, but he much prefers the feeling of his mouth on your pussy. He eats you out like it’s his last meal, holding your hips down and feasting on the taste of you. He loves overstimulating you until you’re trying to push his head away, the pleasure too much. Loves how you push him back towards your pussy, grabbing a handful of his hair to make him continue his ministrations when he separates himself from you to breathe some air. Sometimes you fear he will suffocate between your thighs, when he doesn't come back up for air in a while, and what a sweet death that’d be to him. 

P — PACE . . . are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.

His pace is usually slow and sensual. He worships you, taking his time to appreciate all your sounds and the faces you make, forever burned in his memory. He loves showing you just how much he loves you, making you feel his adoration for you. Still, Jacaerys has moments where he can be rough, lost in the pleasure he frantically fucks into you. He rarely loses control, but when he does you’re both left a beautiful, sweaty mess.

Q — QUICKIE . . . their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.

Not the biggest fan of them. He likes to take his time, savouring those intimate moments so quickies are not something he would choose to partake in. If he’s really needy, he will consider the idea, but usually what starts as a quickie, ends in a long sexual endeavour. 

R — RISK . . . are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.

He’s pretty open to any ideas you might have, as long as they don’t involve sharing or hurting you in any way. He doesn't mind taking risks, but he’s pretty comfortable with the things you already do and will not be the one to propose different ways to spice things up, he leaves that to you. 

S — STAMINA . . . how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?

He can last a few, it all depends on what you're doing. Three rounds is the sweet spot for him. He eats you out, he fucks you and then fucks you once more to make sure his cum really takes. If you just want to make love, have one simple round where you’re both connected, then he’ll give it to you. But this man is insatiable, so it rarely ends in one round for him. 

T — TOYS . . . do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?

Neither of you really need them, you both consider the other enough. If you ever wanted to introduce toys in the bedroom, then Jacaerys is open to the idea. Maybe one day you’ll experiment, but for now the Prince has plenty of skill that will make you forget about any toys.

U — UNFAIR . . . how much they like to tease!

He loves teasing you. He makes you yearn for his touch, adoring the pout you give him and how glassy your eyes get when teasing you. Jacaerys slicks himself along your entrance, bumping against your clit which in turn makes you squirm and whine, and he takes his time until you’re almost sobbing for him to insert himself in you. He’s the worst in public, grabbing you by your waist and telling you how badly he wishes to be in bed with you, only to leave you to go speak to some lord. He watches your agape mouth as you look at him, and all he does is smirk because he knows how wet you’ll be when he finally has you alone.

V — VOLUME . . . how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.

Jacaerys is incredibly vocal. He groans when he finally sheathes himself inside you, moaning when you’re on top of him bouncing up and down without mercy. He’s not shy in telling you how good you're making him feel. He wishes he could speak more to you, but he becomes an incoherent mess pretty quickly and all you can understand are the few mumbles of “Need you” or “So good”, lewdly whining when you clench around him. A drawn out “Fuck” leaves his lips when he comes, squeezing your hips and almost shaking in relief when he feels his spend painting your gummy walls. 

W — WILD CARD . . . a random headcanon for the character!

Wants to fuck you while pregnant and see the milk from your tits dripping, to taste the sweet nectar your body produces. He dreams of how round your belly will be, and how ethereal you’ll look with the glow of motherhood. 

X — X-RAY . . . let's see what's going on under those clothes!

He’s around 15 cm or 6 inches. He’s quite girthy, with a heavy ball sack. He has some prominent veins which you can feel when he’s thrusting in you, the ridges making you sigh in pleasure. 

Y — YEARNING . . . how high is their sex drive?

Jacaerys has a high sex drive, better make the most of it while he’s young. He can control himself, he has great restraint because he knows the wait will just make it all the more sweeter. You can tell quite well when he’s yearning for you, sometimes all it takes is a good look at him and other times he’ll simply groan into your ear how badly he needs you. You guys have sex pretty much every day, with a few exceptions when you're sore or simply not in the mood. 

Z — ZZZ . . . how quickly they fall asleep after sex!

When you fall asleep, he falls asleep. He has great stamina but sometimes when he tires the both of you out, he can’t help but fall asleep almost instantly after he spends his load inside you. Adores cuddling you, makes sleeping for him easier and rids him of any bad dreams. He holds you close, drifting off to the sound of your slow breathing and the heat of your body against his. 

[anxiousbabybird]

Love and Deepspace men x fem!reader slightly unhinged HCs

I started Love and Deepspace yesterday so please have my slightly unhinged HCs for the men so far. And minors don’t you dare interact

Part 2

Rafayel

He’s a biter. Leaves you covered in marks from your neck all the way down your thighs.

Plans a date where he’s laid out a huge canvas on the floor of his studio, puts your fave color paint on your hands and his favorite color on his hands, plus several globs of the two colors across the canvas, and then proceeds to have the wildest three rounds of sex on that canvas as it gets progressively more covered in paint. Sells the painting for 6 figures a few weeks later and uses it as an excuse that you need to make more of them.

Tells you his best masterpiece is painting your body with his cum—got really into it once and dipped the paint brush into your cunt to collect his cum and then painted it across your breasts

Has a secret sketch book that’s nothing but pictures of you. Lots of them are of you sleeping when he can study your features but there’s still quite a few he drew from memory.

Made you lay down naked with your legs spread and be still so he could draw the most detailed image of your pussy you could possibly imagine. It’s his personal fave that no one besides him will ever see.

Sees shibari as a beautiful art form and likes to practice with you—has a whole album in his phone just of pics of you tied up all pretty for him

Rarely gets soft in a serious way, he much prefers the teasing back and forth you two usually have.

Xavier

He’s definitely broken into your room Edward Cullen style and watched you sleep

His favorite dates are taking you into the forest at night to watch the stars and moon together. Bonus points if you come across a wanderer and get to fight together.

Clingy after you become his, always wants to be touching you and doesn’t let you out of his sight (and yes that means sometimes he’s following you but it’s just because you’re brave and reckless and he worries)

When he eats you out, he holds both your hands in his for you to hold on to and does it with no hands—makes you cum more times on his tongue than you could fathom (and yes, he’s eating you for his pleasure)

Downloaded a tracker into your watch so he can know where you are at all times

Gets horny when he watches you fight and has def pulled you aside during a mission for a quickie in which you end up having your cunt stuffed with cum for the remainder of the mission

Such a cuddler but like a cat where he only wants to cuddle if he wants to—falls asleep nearly instantly in your arms like the cute sleepyhead he is

Zayne

Finds it so cute the first time he comes to your apartment and sees all the little snow creatures he’d made you sitting in a windowsill together. Makes you so many more after that. Sends you a bouquet of flowers made from his ice too (#Elsa)

Has food delivered to you at lunch on days he knows you’re super busy so you don’t forget to eat since you often forget to take care of yourself (he doesn’t mind too much since he likes that you let him take care of you)

Prefers kisses over hugs, except when he’s sad because of a patient (then he likes the warm comfort of your hugs)

Moves his glasses to the top of his head and rubs the bridge of his nose when he gets really stressed

Brings you a mild painkiller after blowing your back out, a smug but tiny smile on his lips, and tells you, “I was a bit rough so humor me and take this medicine. I don’t want you in excess pain because of me.”

Loves when you want to lay on his chest when he’s reading through cases and medical journals at night. He’ll read them out loud until you fall asleep and then finish them quietly as you snore softly into his chest

Calls you before a difficult surgery because your voice instantly calms him down

Into bondage—specifically he likes to tie you up so you can’t escape when he starts to overstimulate you. He really can’t help it, you just make such pretty noises for him when he gets you to that point that he has to keep going

Tags: @adaurielle @luffysprincess @seraphofthesimps

[ashherahh]

how your future partner matches your freak +18

Note: Please take it if it resonates, leave it if it doesn't. Meditate before making your decision. It's completely okay if you don't resonate with this reading. The collective is huge and I'm sure you'll receive the messages you need in due time.

pile 1

Cards: Page of Wands Rx, Seven of Pentacles, Three of Swords Rx, Two of Wands. BOD: King of Swords Rx

Um, dunno how to put this but you two teach each other. Getting to that point of knowing each other intimately takes proper communication and lots of consistency. The two of you do not shy away from that. You just see it as a challenge to overcome, and you like challenges.

Carnal desires much?

The attraction is there, as I'm seeing your relationship eventually develops into one which leaves both of you quite satisfied. So, strongly picking up on the energy of someone who is so accustomed to reaching orgasm by themselves that when they have a partner they are a bit...selfish in bed.

Yeah... They haven't had sex in a hot minute so they struggle to last the first few times or they take a while to orgasm. It's quite common, actually.

Eventually, with practice comes improvement. Not everyone is a sex god immediately their first time, so you two are pretty patient with each other. Learning your likes and dislikes, you cultivate your intimacy (which should always be the case, but some couples just click).

You do click with your partner in every other aspect of your life, but sex is the one you both work on together. You're a bit awkward with it, but oh so eager. This energy is so cute, I dunno how else to describe it. There's a curious excitement to it.

Sex is also pretty frequent, like really frequent. A lot. You two have a lot of sex. I'm not seeing major power plays, you're pretty much are comfortable switching roles and you're definitely open to trying out as many positions and toys and roleplaying to see what works for you.

This is such a nasty group. I'm blushing. You both seek each other out. There's no demure, there's no mindful but there's a lot of dropping the draws on sight. There is little restraint.

pile 2

Cards: Two of Cups, The Moon, Queen of Swords Rx, Ten of Cups Rx. BOD: Knight of Swords

Someone is going to cry during sex. There will be tears. Composure for who? What is that? When you are intimate with them, it's like you lose your mind. You don't even know what you're saying, you just be saying stuff. Both of you actually. I'm seeing your partner making promises and you just doing the same thing.

Really, y'all? Really? You both whisper sweet nothings to each other.

Your partner likes to run their mouth during the act. They talk you through it. They know what their words do to you. You're the kind of couple who ends up using sex to voice things, like you leave it all out on the floor. Or should I say bed. Actually, you do it whenever you want. Exhibitionistic individuals.

Emotions run high in this pairing. Sex is an almost lethargic act for the two of you. It's like your chakras open up, and it's addictive. You really can't get enough of each other. Angry sex, all kinds of sex. You use it to process feelings, not intentionally, it really just happens with the two of you.

I'm seeing that you knew you connected well emotionally, but I'm not seeing that either of you were expecting to literally unravel when together. That's exactly what sex feels like with your future partner, like there are layers being stripped away and it's just you two feeling what you need to feel through the act.

You two go deep together.

pile 3

Cards: Queen of Wands, King of Swords, Three of Cups, The Lovers. BOD: The Magician

Power dynamics are a thing with you two. Both of you have strong personalities and are quite dominant in nature. So, it's all about seeing who's going to gain the upper hand.

There's a feeling of having met your perfect match. Previous partners just didn't seem to scratch that itch you two had. Sex was good but not mind blowing and not nearly what you were actually craving.

You both want someone who "earns" you in a way. Like, not everyone deserves you. Not everyone deserves to see either of you come undone. Not everyone is worthy of it. This future partner, they go the extra mile. They don't back down, they don't shy away. You don't scare them, your desires entice them. It's vice versa.

There's a mutual giving, a mutual respect and flow of energy. You recognize that they are someone who will be able to match you in everyway, they are someone who is able to satisfy you, and you them.

Libidos are highhhhhh.

You two worship each other. This pairing adores every inch of each other. If you are shy about any part of yourself, that goes out of the window. They make you feel like you are the most precious person on earth, and you are to them.

I'm seeing that sex is treated with a lot of respect and trust. You two really let yourself go with one another. There's no holding back, no masks in place, no feeling like you're too much.

It feels like heaven with them.

[live-laugh-neteyam]

The Moon ||| neteyam x human!reader

masterlist

epilogue

pairings: neteyam x human!fem!reader

summary: neteyam would give you the moon if he could

words: 8.8k (I’m dead omg)

warnings/notes: friends to lovers, major ANGST (cried while writing this one) bits of fluff, implied sexual themes, lovesick!neteyam, mentions of sickness and medical treatments, death, use of y/n, I am not a medical professional so I lot of this is just my interpretation I’m sorry that it won’t be accurate pls don’t hate me, mentions of mates, spider is your adoptive brother (in this house we love spider 🫶🏻), and of course my corny writing, this is the product of me listening to moon song on a loop not sure how this happened, This is gonna be rough apologies in advance

The first time Neteyam saw you was when he was eight years old. He was used to seeing Spider around, but not you. You were new.

Trembling behind Spider it looked like you were trying to disappear. Barely peeking up over his shoulder to look. Neteyam's tail swished in curiosity as he observed you.

"Guys, this is Y/N." Spider introduced you while pushing you forward. "She's a little shy." He added.

Your big eyes looked up at the Na'vi children who towered over you. "Hi." You whispered with an awkward smile and a small wave. "You're really tall." You giggled.

Neteyam stared at you in awe immediately infatuated with you. You were unlike any sky person he had ever seen.

"You're just really short." Lo'ak snapped back rolling his eyes.

Neteyam noticed your smile falter and shoved his brother. Your smile was beautiful, the prettiest thing the young boy had ever seen. At that moment Neteyam decided you should always be smiling.

Spider explained to the group that you were born here like him. You had never left the lab before. This was the first time you saw the beauty of the forest and the first time you saw a Na'vi in the flesh. You were in awe of everything around you.

Spending the rest of the day playing with the other children you couldn't help but get distracted by your surroundings. The forest was alive it's beauty glowing all around you. You had the urge to explore every last inch of it.

Neteyam kept his eyes locked on you. He was worried that you'd get separated from the rest of them. You were small and delicate, unable to properly protect yourself, so Neteyam decided to protect you.

So that's how it was whenever you played with the Sully children. Neteyam always glued by your side. He couldn't explain it. The way he felt an immediate draw towards you. As if the two of you were meant to find each other.

Neytiri was less than thrilled to have another human child around her kids. One was bad enough. After everything humans had done to their home -to her - she despised them. She even had her doubts about the loyal few who stayed.

What made her even more unsure of you was the way her eldest son never left your side. Ever since Spider introduced you Neteyam was glued to your side. Had it been anyone else Neytiri would have found it endearing. But you were human. You were a demon.

A few years later Neytiri started to notice things about you. The way the forest left you in awe no matter how many times you’d seen it. She'd catch you gasping in excitement over the littlest things. It was as if you could see.

She also noticed the strong bond you had with her children, especially with Neteyam. She knew her son well. Neytiri was well aware of how he felt towards you. She feared the day that he realized his own feelings.

You were sitting in the forest with Neteyam next to you. His mother was across from the two of you. Neytiri was shooting daggers with her eyes at you. The stare made you shift uncomfortably. Neteyam picked up on it placing a gentle hand on your knee.

Neytiri observed how you immediately relaxed. The sweet genuine smiled you gave her son and how he gave you one of his own.

Neytiri had been trying to give Neteyam a lesson on arrow making. He had insisted that you join them since he promised to spend the afternoon with you. Much to her dismay, you were here unintentionally distracting him.

You felt something barely grace your shoulder. Figuring it was Neteyam you didn't pay it much mind. Then another tap on your head. One on your arm. Then your other shoulder.

Looking up, you met Neytiri's eyes. She was staring at you like she had seen a ghost. Starting to feel panicked you looked at your arms. You gasped as your eyes filled with wonder.

Several atokirina' floated around you. They danced up and down gently resting on you. Neteyam had the biggest smile on his face. To him it was confirmation the great mother saw you the way he did.

It was undoubtedly a sign from Eywa herself. Neytiri couldn't believe her eyes. Feeling a sense of déjà vu, she was brought back to the first time she met her mate.

Unable to shake what she had witnessed she went to her mother. After explaining the strange encounter Neytiri waited while Mo’at consulted with Eywa.

“Eywa sees the child.” Mo’at finally spoke. “The Great Mother has declared that she will spend the rest of her life by Neteyam.”

Neytiri couldn’t wrap her mind around it. The concept was so foreign to her. Eywa had accepted you as one of her own. Not only that, it was also her will that you stay by Neteyam. Neytiri would never question the will of Eywa. While she didn’t fully understand it she would have to learn to be okay with it.

From that day on, Neteyam’s mother treated you with a kindness she never had before. You didn’t know what happened for her to finally warm up to you but you were forever grateful she did.

Years went by and it was time for Neteyam to begin training for his iknimaya. You were so excited for him, knowing how important this rite of passage was to the Na'vi. There was a part of you that was downcast as he wouldn't be able to spend time with you every day like he usually does.

Your heart hurt because all you wanted was to be able to experience this with him. For as long as you could remember you wanted to be Na'vi. It was your birthday wish every year though you never told anyone out of embarrassment. That and it wouldn't come true if you told.

You and your brother had begged for avatars for years. Unfortunately the materials and funding needed just wasn’t there. Norm and Max wanted nothing more than to be able to grant your wishes, but it just wasn't a possibility.

"So how long are you going to be gone this time?"

Neteyam sighed. He could hear the disappointment in your voice and it broke his heart. "A month. Maybe two."

You felt like you could burst into tears right then and there. Neteyam was your best friend, not to mention your crush for as long as you could remember. You couldn't imagine not seeing him for that long.

"I'll be back before you know it." Gently he brushed hair out of your face. As much as he loved seeing you in the forest he treasured the moments in your room without your mask. Neteyam loved to see your face without the glass restricting his view.

"Don't forget about me." You playfully pushed him.

He gasped in mock offense. "I could never." He smiled. Before he could stop himself he placed a kiss on your forehead.

Stopping dead in his tracks he pulled back. The pair of you stilled blushes adoring both of your cheeks.

Neteyam tried to burry his feelings for you but it was impossible. He had fallen helplessly in love with his best friend. Not caring that you were human he couldn't deny his feelings. He just wasn't sure how to tell you.

Before you knew it, you were throwing your arms around him as you hugged him goodbye. You went to pull away but he kept you in his embrace for a little longer.

"I'm gonna miss you." He sighed.

"You're going to have so much fun you won't even think about me."

"That's not true you're always on my mind." He blushed.

A blush engulfed your face and you bit your lip. You noticed Neteyam's tail swishing back and forth. Looking up at him he was smiling back at you. His cheeks were slightly tinted.

Standing back with the rest of his family you waved as he joined the other young warriors. "He'll be back before you know it." Spider smiled knowingly at you.

No matter how hard you tried you couldn't keep your crush from your bother. He immediately figured it out. Little did you know most everyone had figured it out. The only ones who hadn't were you and Neteyam.

Neytiri watched you with a smile on her face. As time passed she accepted the idea of you with her son. Finding amusement in the two of you pining after each other.

The time without Neteyam dragged on for what felt like an eternity. Spider did his best to keep you occupied as did the Sully siblings. But your mind never strayed far from the boy your heart beat for.

You were getting ready for bed after a long day. Neteyam was halfway through his training by now. You had been counting down the days to his return.

A knock on your door interrupted your thoughts. Norm stood awkwardly in the doorway. “You have a visitor.” He informed you.

Furrowing your eyebrows you looked at him confused. It was way past the curfew set for the lab. “Who?”

Before he could answer you Lo’ak pushed passed him and entered your room. He look frustrated and exhausted.

“What are you doing here Lo’ak?” You asked afraid that something was wrong.

Without saying a word he removed the communicator from his neck and handed it to you. “This is for you.” Was all he said.

You looked over the tech not understanding why he was giving it to you especially now of all times. “I’ve been trying to sleep for hours. He won’t leave me alone until he speaks with you.”

Your face lit up knowing exactly who he was. Wasting no time you pressed the button. “Neteyam?” You hesitantly asked.

“Oh Eywa how I’ve missed your voice.” Neteyam’s voice rang through the speaker.

“Yeah I’m not staying to listen to this.” Lo’ak deadpanned before leaving.

Neteyam missed you terribly and begged his father to let him speak with you. Jake felt like it would be a distraction so he didn't allow it. So Neteyam came up with the brilliant idea to pester his little brother until he gave it. It worked rather quickly.

You spent the whole night talking to Neteyam. He told you all about his training not sparing a single detail. He was more interested in what you had been up to. He just wanted to hear your voice.

The day Neteyam was to return was finally here. You and Spider sprinted through the forest heading towards the village. By the time you got there he had already returned.

Searching the crowd you finally saw him. Knees weak your breath caught in your throat. Somehow he looked taller. His mussels were more defined, shoulders wider, and his face sharper. He was no longer a boy. He looked like a man.

You had always wanted Neteyam but this was different. In that moment your want for him was something you hadn't experienced before. It almost felt wrong. Almost.

Neteyam searched the crowd for you. Eyes glancing over a figure that was familiar he did a double take. It was you. You looked different.

Neteyam gulped as he took in your new features. Your hips wider and chest fuller you no longer looked like the little kid everyone was so used to. Neteyam noticed your hair was shorter, resting at just below your shoulders now.

You were beautiful. Absolutely breathtaking. A gift from Eywa herself. A primal urge came over him, a desire to take you right then and there. You were to be his mate, he felt that you were destined.

"Neteyam!" You squealed running into his arms. He picked you up twirling you in the air like you weighed nothing.

"I missed you Ma'Y/N." He snuggled his face into your neck.

You bit your lip at the pet name. It was usually reserved for mated couples but Neteyam couldn't help but let it slip.

As the weeks passed on the attraction between the two of was stronger than ever. Stolen glances and intentional accidental touches filled your days.

After Neteyam successfully claimed his Ikran earning his spot among the people he would take you for rides.

"I knew you could do it. I'm so proud of you." You looked up at him.

The look you gave him made his heart flutter. A strange satisfaction overcame him knowing that you were proud of him. He wanted you to be proud of him.

That night he walked you back to the lab following you to your room. He desperately needed to speak with you. He had been working up the courage all night.

Neteyam sat next to you on your bed. He loved the moments you shared without your mask in the way. Staring into your eyes without anything in front of them.

"I have earned my place among the people." He said suddenly.

You nodded slowly not sure where he was going with this. "I know I was there." You giggled.

"I may now chose a mate."

Your heart dropped. So this was why he wanted to talk. He was here to tell you that he found someone. He probably wanted you to leave him alone now.

Anxiety flooded your mind as you felt stupid. A part of you actually thought he liked you back. Why would he? You weren’t even the same species. You had nothing to offer him.

“I see.” You gave your best fake smile. “Who’s the lucky girl then?” You had to know.

“You.” Neteyam said without hesitation.

“I’m sorry what?” You asked. There was no way you heard that right.

“You, if you’ll have me.” He looked away shy. He took your confusion as rejection. “I want you to be my mate Y/N.”

“Are you sure?” You asked dumbfounded.

Neteyam cupped your face in his palms. “I see you Y/N.”

Your heart sped up at the phrase you found so beautiful and so terrifying at the same time. He saw you. Every broken piece, every imperfection, all of your good qualities as well as the bad ones, and he still wanted you anyways.

He wanted you despite it all. Neteyam saw you.

“I am human Neteyam.” You said. You needed him to be sure of his choice. Na’vi mate for Life. Of course you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him, but you needed to be sure he wouldn’t regret it.

“I know. That changes nothing.”

“I cannot make Tsaheylu.” The bond was the building block of life on Pandora. It was vital to their existence. They bonded with their mates, you would be unable to bond with him in this way.

“I know. But I see you anyways.” He confessed.

“I’ll never be tsahík.”

“None of that matters to me Y/N. Stop trying to give me reasons to not want you. It won’t work.”

Looking down in shame you gave him one last reason. “I can’t give you children Neteyam. You’d be making so many sacrifices just to have me. It’s not an equal trade.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He smiled. “You are all I want. It’s always been you Y/N. Always. Nothing else matters when you are enough for me.”

Neteyam leaned in as if he was about to kiss you. “You are what I want Y/N.”

“You are what I want too.” You breathed. “I see you Neteyam.

That was all he needed to hear. He crashed his lips onto yours passionately kissing you. Lips moving in sync until you pulled away to catch your breath.

Staring into his golden eyes you removed your shirt leaving your chest bare before him. Neteyam’s eyes widened at your sudden action. He wasn’t expecting anything to happen, he was happy with kissing.

“We don’t have to do anything Ma’Y/N.”

There was that name again. You smiled. “I want to. I want you Neteyam. That is, if you’ll have me.” You batted your eyelashes at him.

His tail twitched in excitement before he tackled you back onto the bed. The two of you spent the night a tangled mess of limbs. “We are mated before Eywa for life.” Neteyam whispered into your ear before you drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

It had been two years since you mated with Neteyam. It had been the best years of your life.

His family was immediately accepting of your relationship. To your surprise so was most of the clan. There were a few that frowned upon your union but Neteyam made sure to put them in their place.

Following Neteyam’s lead you ran through the forest. He made sure to keep looking back for you so the two of you wouldn’t get separated.

“So where are we going again?” You huffed out of breath.

“It’s a surprise.” He smiled back at you.

Neteyam took you to a clearing that had the most beautiful flowers you had ever seen. You were fascinated by the nature of Pandora.

“I wish I could smell them.” You sighed. Always longing to smell the fresh air and to feel the breeze on your face.

Neteyam frowned at your words. He too hated your mask, but it kept you alive. It allowed him to show you his home. To Neteyam it was worth the inconvenience.

“Come on, let’s keep going.” He smiled. “There’s something else I wanna show you.”

Without a second thought you followed him. Starting to feel faint you slowed down. Everything was getting blurry and your head was woozy.

"Neteyam, could you slow down a little?" You panted, pushing your hand against a tree for support. "I'm a little dizzy."

Stopping dead in his tracks he rushed over to you. His mind racing with a million different thoughts. His heart screaming at him to protect you. Not looking good at all your face had gone pale. Your eyes looked exhausted. You looked ill.

"I will take you to my grandmother. You do not look good Ma'Y/N."

"I'm fine Teyam." You attempted a smile to reassure him. The last thing you wanted was to be rushed into the village. The People were used to you, but having the Tsahík tend to a sky demon may be pushing your luck. "Just take me back to the lab please."

Scooping you up he held you close to his chest bridal style. "Neteyam, I could've walked. I'm not broken." You rolled your eyes. Ignoring your protests he continued the trek back to the lab. Something was wrong and you were unwell.

Gently setting you down at the lab entrance he insisted that he come in with you. Neteyam was still slightly unsure of sky people, the lab making him nervous. But this was different. Anxiety consumed him and he couldn't leave without making sure you were okay.

Taking your mask off you then offered Neteyam a mask of his own. He hastily took it eyes never leaving you. The last thing on his mind was a mask for himself. He could breath this air for hours anyways.

Walking the familiar hallways to your room he observed your small steps. Gently panting as if the walk was tiring you out. You insisted you were fine but your body language said otherwise.

Plopping down on your bed you made grabby hands reaching out for him. "Cuddle me." You playfully commanded. Smiling he complied gently laying down next to you, arms instinctively pulling you closer.

Taking a deep breath letting your scent fill his lungs he hummed. Neteyam gently peppered a few kisses to your face before burying his head in your neck.

"Neteyam stop." You giggled. "It tickles." You could feel his smile against your neck. Running your free hand through his braids you sighed in satisfaction. Moments like this made up for all the bad ones.

You felt so safe in his arms, like he could protect you from anything. And he would. He'd burn the whole world if it meant keeping you safe.

"Teyam?" You whispered fingers still playing with his hair. He hummed in response snuggling closer to you. "I love you to the moon and back."

The expression felt odd rolling off your tongue. Checks heated in a blush you were a bit embarrassed. After all, you found it to be incredibly cheesy. But there was a part of you that found the sentiment sweet.

You'd first read it engraved on a tiny silver necklace. It had belonged to your mother. One of the scientists gave it to you once you were older. It was the only thing you had of her. Everything else was left up to your imagination.

For years they tried to allude to the fact that your mother had passed away. It seemed easier to let you believe that than tell you the truth. But even though you were a child you weren't clueless. You knew that your mother had left you here.

Terrified of everything that had happened she went back to earth unable to take you with her. That's how you found yourself being raised by the scientists on Pandora with Spider as your honorary brother.

A small part of you cling to the saying. Wishing it was true, that your mother loved you to the moon and back - to Pandora and back. That one day she'd be back for you.

You knew it would never happen. So instead you say it to Neteyam.  Because you truly meant it. You would go to the moon and back for him. And you would be back. You'd always come back for him.

Neteyam's ears perked up at your words. It wasn't the first time you had told him you loved him but you had never said it like this. He didn't entirely understand it but he appreciated your words just the same.

Smiling at you like you were the most precious thing he ever laid his eyes on. "I will give you the moon my love."

Laughing you pulled him closer. "You can't give someone the moon Neteyam."

But he would for you. You were his moon, his stars, and everything in between. Whatever you asked for he would deliver. "If I could give you the moon, I would give you the moon." He confirmed.

"You're a dork." You giggled.

"So are you then. You started it." He playfully fired back. Neteyam's mind turned somber for a moment. "Are you feeling better?"

You nodded cuddling more into your mattress to get comfy. "Much better. I think I need more cuddles to be one hundred percent though."

Smiling, Neteyam snuggled into you. "I'm more than happy to assist."

As the weeks went by you continued to feel strange. It didn’t seem like a big deal to you, so you didn’t want to bring it up. After all, you were human. Getting sick was a part of every day life.

No one noticed how you were acting strange. Except Neteyam of course. He picked up on the way you always seemed tired. The way your eyes looked a bit dull as they stared off into space. No matter how hard you tried to hide it, he saw it all.

You were now having trouble keeping your meals down. Stomach always feeling like it was in knots you didn’t know what was wrong. No one had caught you throwing up yet, but they did start to notice how you were losing weight without trying.

Norm awkwardly tried to broach the subject as always trying to be the father you never had. He was afraid you were doing something self inflicted and wanted to support you in any way he could.

It took awhile but you were able to convince him it wasn't what he thought. You honestly didn't know what was wrong, you just one day started feeling sick.

Norm being the man of science that he was immediately wanted to start tests to get to the bottom of what was wrong. Somehow you managed to get him to hold off for awhile. The idea of going through a bunch of tests scared you.

You didn’t get out of it for very long. Neteyam was worried sick about you and insisted you do whatever was needed to get better. Reluctantly you agreed spending the next several days undergoing tests and blood work.

Neteyam even took you to his grandmother for her guidance. She wasn’t able to pinpoint what was wrong. Whatever you had was a human sickness, unknown to the Na’vi.

Jake took a special interest in what was wrong. He was once a human himself. He was well aware of everything that could go wrong with the human body. Plus he deeply cared for his daughter in law. Jake consulted with Norm regularly regarding his findings.

The Olo'eyktan thought it’d be best if he was one of the first to find out. That way he would be able to explain it to his family better. He was by no means a doctor but he knew his son would trust his words more than Norm’s.

He could see the way Neteyam looked like his was close to having a melt down. He had a forced calmness about him. As if he was in complete denial that something might be wrong. Because he was. If he refused to acknowledge it, it wouldn’t be real.

"Leukemia." Norm spoke like that one simple word explained everything. Jake's breath caught in his throat at the word. Neteyam stood head moving back and forth between the two of them, waiting for an explanation.

His heart hammered in his chest as they spoke words that meant nothing to him. Human words he didn't know. "How long?" His father asked quietly.

"It's progressed rather quickly. She had been exhibiting symptoms for a few months now. It's hard to say how long she's had it."

Neteyam knew they were talking about you. Dread filled him and he felt sick to his stomach. The feeling of being left in the dark was too much for him, he felt like he could scream.

"How long does she have?" Jake asked again eyes screwed onto Norm. He spoke hushed this time. Jake wasn't a fool. He was well aware of his son's feelings towards you. In fact, the whole clan knew.

How long does she have? The words echoed in Neteyam's brain. Repeating over and over again. They couldn't be talking about your life could they? You were just a little sick, you had said so yourself. This couldn't be real he refused to believe it.

"I've estimated three years." Max spoke up. "She has a thirty percent chance."

Thirty. That was low wasn't it? There was no possible way you'd have such a low chance. The science geeks were the best of the best. You'd also have access to the remedies of the Na'vi. Most importantly you'd have Neteyam. He made a vow to take care of and protect you. He indented to keep that vow.

"What are her opinions? What can we do?" Jake needed all the information he could get if he was going to have to explain this to his son.

"Chemo would be the next step. It's going to be hard, she's already so weak. It's going to take a lot out of her."

Jake glanced over at his son. Neteyam looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack. Hell, he was on the verge of a panic attack. His eyes were wide as he stared at his father, pleading for an answer.

Jake sighed, "Would she have a better chance back on Earth? Can we even give her proper care here?"

Earth? You couldn't go to earth. Neteyam refused to allow it. If you left he'd never see you again. He wouldn't be able to care for you while you're sick. He also wouldn't know how you were doing - he wouldn't know if you were still breathing or not.

His mouth hung open as his brain tried to register this. "She can't go to earth dad." He said just above a whisper. "She can't go!" He said again this time yelling desperately at his father.

"Calm down boy." Jake hushed him placing a hand on his shoulder. "Let them speak."

"She's not going anywhere." Norm said trying to choose his words carefully. "Her immune system is weak right now. I don't think she would survive the trip. I think it's best to treat her here with what we have available."

Tears stung Neteyam's eyes as he stared at the ground. You were so sick you wouldn't survive the trip to earth. Would you even survive here? He came to the horrific realization that you were sick and you might be dying.

"She's strong though." Jake said more so to his son. "She can fight this."

Max and Norm looked at each other with sad smiles. Neither doubted your strength, you were one of the strongest people they knew. But this was different. They had to entertain the possibility that even if you fight with your all you could lose. They also knew that they didn't have everything needed to properly treat you. But for the sake of the broken boy in front of them they left that part out.

Staying positive was hard but you gave it your best try. You felt weak but it wasn’t insufferable yet. The worst part of it was you couldn’t go out exploring like you were accustomed to.

Your friends made sure to keep you company. Your room become the unofficial official hangout spot. Lo’ak and Spider would play games with you, Kiri kept you up to date on all of the gossip in the village, Tuk insisted that the two of you color, and Neteyam? Neteyam never left your side.

He was there not long after your woke up and often times he stayed the night. Neteyam never wanted to leave your side, wanting to make sure you were cared for in any way possible. He would be there every step of the way.

When it was time for chemo you felt extremely anxious. As Norm prepared the IV Neteyam eyed the needle untrustworthily. You winced as it went into your arm. Neteyam hissed ready to throw Norm across the room for causing you pain.

Norm panicked and you quickly explained to Neteyam that it was okay. It only hurt for a few minutes. You had to deal with it. You needed the treatment to get better.

Neteyam cuddled up next to you holding your hand. He tried to do things to distract you from it. The pair of you would watch movies from back on earth. You taught him how to play uno. He could never beat you and it frustrated him to no end. He was close to throwing his cards in anger. Seeing him be such a sore looser made you laugh.

Neteyam loved your laugh. He didn’t hear it much anymore so it was his life’s mission to make you laugh as much as he could.

He believed you’d make a full recovery. This was simply a bump in the road.

"Please don't let him in." You pleaded with Spider. "I don't want him to see me like this." Tears were stinging your eyes now.

Spider looked sympathetically at you. You tried so hard to be strong for everyone but it was wearing down on you. This was effecting you worse than you thought it would. All you wanted to sulk in your room by yourself.

"He's freaking out Y/N. I'm afraid he's gonna start breaking stuff." He chuckled. Gently placing his hand on your shoulder his concerned look returned. "He cares about you. A lot. He just wants to make sure you're okay."

Nodding your head you wiped your face with your hands. You didn't want him to see that you had been crying. "Okay. Let him in."

Spider went off to find Neteyam it didn't take him too long thanks to the commotion he was causing. "You cannot keep me here!" Neteyam bellowed.

He tried to moved around the crowd of scientists who were attempting to keep him back. Neteyam growled in frustration. "Y/N is my mate you cannot keep me from her."

"Bro, calm down!" Spider yelled as Neteyam went to throw something off of a desk. He stopped as soon as he heard Spider. Neteyam's shoulders relaxed slightly at the familiar face.

"They are trying to keep me away." He snapped.

"Yeah I can see that." Spider huffed. "If you're done with your temper tantrum Y/N is ready to see you."

Raising his head high Neteyam walked past the scientists smugly. When out of earshot he bent down to Spider "They said Y/N did not want to see me." His face etched with worry.

Sighing Spider ran his hand over his face. "She's upset right now. It's not my place to say. She needs to be the one to tell you. But she's upset and embarrassed right now. She didn't want you to see her like that."

Neteyam's heart clenched at his words. The thought of you being so upset that you didn't want to see him crushed him. Walking into your room he was preparing for the worst.

You were sitting in your bed with your hands folded in your lap. Staring down you were avoiding his gaze.

He looked you up and down to see if their was any visible signs of what was wrong. If there was a problem Neteyam wanted to attack it head on. Your sickness wasn't like that though. He had to sit and watch helplessly as you suffered. It consumed him to the point he lived in constant agony.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Except your eyes were red and puffy like you had been crying. You were crying. Why were you crying? Neteyam's protective side took the forefront once again, ready to crush whatever had upset you.

Rushing to your side he cupped your cheek with his hand. "Ma'love what's wrong?" Worried etched on his face.

"You can have these back. I don't need them anymore." You sniffed. Your closed hands reached out to his. Opening your hands you gently poured the contents into his.

Neteyam stilled as his beads spilled into his hands. They were the beads he had given to you. He loved seeing you proudly wearing them in your hair, letting everyone see you were his.

"You don't want them anymore?" He softly asked. It felt like a punch to the gut. It was as if you were rejecting him.

"I won't be able to wear them anymore Neteyam." Meeting his gaze your heart broke seeing his face. He didn't understand why you were returning his gift to you.

"My hair is falling out Neteyam." You sighed.

"I do not understand." His brow furrowed trying to put the pieces together.

"The chemo- the medicine makes my hair fall out." You tried to explain.

Spider walked over and put his hand on your shoulder for support. He viewed you as his little sister. It hurt him to see you suffering like this.

Neteyam didn't understand how this medicine was helping you if it was making it so hard on you. Human medicine was more complicated than the Na'vi remedies he was used to.

You knew that he was genuinely curious and just trying to understand but you were tired if talking about it. You knew you would eventually lose your hair but you thought you could handle it.

Everything was too much. You hadn't really felt sick until now. When you noticed your hair coming out in clumps it all became real. You were sick.

Spider found you in a fit of sobs. It broke his heart to see you like that. It also sent him into a panic. He didn't know what to do to make you feel better. He was your big brother, he was supposed to know everything.

"Norm gave me this." Sighing you pulled out hair clippers. "He said it might be easier to just go ahead and shave my head." Tears stung your eyes again. "I just don't know if I can."

Without thinking Spider took the clippers from you. "I'll go first." He declared.

Eyes widening in panic you tried to stop him. "Wait Spider! You don't have to do that." Before you could get another word out he turned them on and quickly swiped along the top of his head.

You and Neteyam stared at him with wide eyes. Dumbfounded you couldn't believe your brother just did that. He did it for you. You couldn't help the small smile that formed. Knowing that your brother loved you that much made your heart swell.

"Are you guys just gonna stare at me or are you gonna help me finish this up?" Spider asked with a smirk.

Once finished Spider was almost unrecognizable. "I can't believe you did that." You mumble as he helped you with your hair.

"It's not a big deal." He shrugged. "It was weighing me down anyways. I'll be faster now."

You rolled your eyes at your brother's odd logic. Neteyam was holding onto your hand watching Spider like a hawk. The idea of taking a blade to your head terrified him even though you assured him it was safe.

Gently you squeezed his hand. “I’m okay.” You assured him. He nodded bringing your hand up to his lips, tenderly kissing your knuckles. “I love you.” His whispered lips still pressed to your fingers.

Usually you stuck to the Na’vi terms of affection. It was what Neteyam was comfortable with. But after learning what the human phrase meant he had to use it. Because it was true. He loved you with every fiber of his being.

Tugging his hand to your lips you gave his knuckles a matching kiss. “I love you too. So so much.”

“Come on guys knock it off.” Spider complained pretending to be sick. As much as your constant shows of affection annoyed him he was glad you found someone who truly loved you.

The next day Neteyam came to visit you with his hands behind his back. You eyed him suspiciously, he was never good at keeping secrets from you.

“I made this for you last night.” He gently placed a bracelet in your lap. You gasped when you realized it was made of the beads he had originally given you for your hair.

“You said you couldn’t wear them anymore and now that’s not true.”

Carefully you put the bracelet on. Heart bursting at the sweet gesture tears began to spill from your eyes. Neteyam started to panic thinking be did something wrong.

“You are not happy with it?” He asked defeated. “You are crying.”

“Yes but they’re happy tears. I love it Neteyam. I love you.” You threw your arms around his neck. Smiling he pulled you closer into his chest.

“Oel ngati kameie.” He whispered into your neck.

“I see you Ma’Teyam.”

"I'm dying Neteyam." You said without any hesitation or emotion.

Neteyam immediately sat up looking to you slightly begging that he heard you wrong. It couldn't be true. It couldn't be.

"No one's told you because they're afraid of how you'll react. I don't want to keep anything from you. Love you too much to do that." Your eyes met his through your mask. He felt his heart breaking not only from your words but your eyes. They were faded, lacking the light he loved so much.

"They didn't want to tell me either." Your hoarse voice kept on. "But it's hard to pull a fast one over on me when I'm like this." Chuckling at yourself Neteyam caught a glimpse of you. The real you. Not this pitiful shell of who you once were.

"The treatment stopped working months ago. They told me last week."

Bringing your hand to his mouth he gently kissed your knuckles. "Please do not say such things." His voice cracked. Tears were now freely flowing from his eyes.

Deep down in his heart he knew he was losing you. He just didn't want to believe it. He couldn't believe it. Acknowledging it made it feel real and there was no way this was real. It had to be a cruel nightmare.

"I'm tired Neteyam." You spoke quietly.

Unsure of what you meant he was ready to scoop you up and tuck you into bed. Somehow you had convinced him to go star gazing tonight. It had seemed like the perfect date night idea since you were always cooped up in your room. But now he kicked himself for allowing you to leave.

"Let's get you back then," he started shuffling."

"No Neteyam." You interrupted him stopping him in his tracks. "I'm tired of this." You gestured to yourself. "I'm tired of treatments that aren't working. Tired of being stuck in my room all day. Im tired of it all." You sighed.

"This isn't living Neteyam. It's waiting to die." Meeting his eyes your heart sank. He was finally registering your words. Neteyam looked at you like you had just pierced his heart with an arrow. "I'm tired of waiting."

You had been battling this for over a year now. It had taken its toll on you physically and emotionally. You didn’t know how much longer you could go on like this.

"What are you saying Y/N?" He asked trying his best to stay calm but miserably failing. His hands were shaking and his heart quickened.

"I asked Norm and Max about how I could speed it up."

Neteyam heard his heart shatter into a million pieces. You wanted to end your life. You wanted to leave him. You couldn't possibly want to leave him could you?

Tears were freely falling from his eyes. His body started to shake fighting off sobs.

"I'm not getting any better Neteyam." You gently placed your hand on his cheek wiping away his tears with your thumb.

This wasn't what you wanted but you saw no other way. Everyday was a struggle, even breathing hurt. You wanted Neteyam to see what you already accepted. This was a waiting game. You were never going to recover.

"No." He violently shook his head holding you to his chest. "No. You'll get better. We just need to try something else. Please." He begged.

"Ma'Teyam there's nothing left to try."

"Please. You can't leave me." His body shook with sobs. "I can't lose you Ma'Y/N."

You couldn't fight back your own tears. Your mask was fogging as you started to cry. Seeing your mate like this was as painful as your sickness.

"You're not gonna lose me love. Nothing is ever lost, remember?" You tried your best to comfort him.

"There has to be something we can try." He sobbed. "What about an avatar?"

You held his head in your chest while he cried. "They can't make anymore avatars. You know that."

"I can't do this without you. There has to be something." Neteyam wailed.

The sight broke your heart. You had exhausted all of your options. Everyone but Neteyam seemed to recognize it.

"I won't do anything without your blessing Ma'Teyam." You gently caressed his head. "But please try to understand my point of view."

"You cannot ask this of me. I can't." He shook his head.

Gently rocking you soothed the boy in your arms. He had a vice like grip on you as if you'd vanish into thin air. "It'll okay Ma'Teyam." You cooed.

You had informed Norm and Max of your plan. It broke their heart but they acknowledged that it was your decision. They would respect your wishes.

Norm found himself in your room in the middle of the night watching you sleep. It pained him to see your labored breaths. You were always so fill of light and now you looked like a hollow shell.

He'd known you your whole life. It broke his heart to know that your time was running out. It seemed like just yesterday you were a bubbly toddler getting into trouble in the lab.

You told Jake and Neytiri next. For some reason you were terrified of what your in laws would think of you. While this was something common amongst humans it was very rare to the Na'vi.

Jake was once human though. It hurt his heart to see that it came to this but he understood. While his disability wasn't terminal he knew the feeling of hopelessness. The feeling of being trapped inside what once was you. Your body becoming a prison. Jake knew better than anyone.

Neytiri didn't understand why you wished this until she saw you. She couldn't contain her gasp. No longer the child she has grown to care for, you were someone she didn’t recognize.

Smiling weakly at her Neytiri’s heart broke for you. She could see that you were dying but she couldn’t understand why. It was the great mother’s will that you would stay with Neteyam. Why would she allow you to die so soon?

Then it hit her. The words of her mother. You would spend the rest of your life beside Neteyam. Your life would end before his. Seeing you like this made her realize why you wanted this. You weren’t yourself, you were tapped inside a body that was failing you.

Spider was unusually quiet when you told him. “Spider please say something.” You pleaded.

He knew it was coming. He’d be a fool not to. But he was like everyone else who loved you, he didn’t want to believe it was happening. All of his earliest memories included you. You may have only been siblings because of circumstance but he loved you like you were blood.

You were undoubtedly his sister. Always there for him for as long as he could remember. Someone who always had his back. You understood the feeling of being abandoned here and the longing of wanting more. You were his person. And now you weren’t going to be here anymore.

Spider stood up and hugged you. He was slightly crying into your shoulder. You had never seen your big brother cry. He was your rock always strong and dependable.

“I’m sorry Spider.” You cried with him.

“Hey,” he pulled back to look at you. “Don’t ever be sorry. None of this is your fault.”

Nodding through your tears you took in the sight of him. His hair was growing back so fast leaving him with a nice short cut.

“You know I love you right?” He asked unsure for a moment. He had to make sure you knew. Spider wouldn’t be able to live with himself If you didn’t.

“Of course. I love you too bro.”

The two of you spent the rest of the day talking about everything and nothing all at once. It would be one of the last times you got to.

When it came to telling Neteyam he already knew. Your confirmation was like stones in his heart. But he knew. Deep down he always knew. You were never getting better.

Being cooped up in your room wasn't much of a life. You were in pain and it pained him to witness it. Neteyam never wished to part from you but this wasn't his choice to make.

He knew that had there been any other way you wouldn't had made the choice either.

You wanted one last day. One last good day.

Looking at your room one last time you shut the door. You had breakfast with Norm and Spider just like you always did growing up. Max even joined you.

No one talked about what was to come. You forbid any talk of the future only wanted to live in the here and now.

Spider helped you put on your mask and the two of you slowly made your way to the village. He helped you into the Sully home. You were terrified of everyone being somber, but to your delight everyone acted as normal.

You hadn’t laughed this much in months watching Spider reenact a story of one of the many times Lo’ak almost got himself killed.

Laughter, hugs, and smiles was how you spent your time with the Sully’s. It was perfect just like it always was. Neteyam kept you sat on his lap not wanting to lose contact for a second.

Taking a deep breath he inhaled your scent. It had changed when you got sick. It didn’t smell like you. It made him frown.

Insisting on going on an Ikran ride you drug Neteyam out of his family’s tent. Neytiri stopped you before you got too far. Embracing you one last time. “Thank you for watching over him my child.” Before you could say a word she kissed your forehead and left you with watery eyes.

Neteyam didn’t want to focus on sadness right now. You were still here that’s all that mattered. Taking your hand once again you were greeted with his Ikran.

“You sure you feel up to this?” He checked in.

“Hell yeah.” You smirked at him.

Flying through air was a feeling you’d never get used to. Up there you were truly free. Sticking your arms out to intensify the feeling Neteyam cursed at your sudden movement. His grip tightening around you.

“Let me know before you do something like that.” He scolded.

“You worry too much!” You yelled over the wind. “You’ve taken me on a million rides and haven’t dropped me yet.”

Neteyam smiled at you. Today you were glowing with a glimpse of yourself. Not the person who had been while sick. The real you. It made his heart clench. It pained him but he knew you were right. This was the right choice.

He would rather see you like this than just slowly waste away to nothing. I wanna go out with a bang. You had told him.

Eclipse crept up on the couple as you laid on the ground tangled up in each other. "I love you so much." You told him tears threatening to spill. He kissed your knuckles. "I love you to the moon and back." He whispered.

Smiling fondly at the memory from what felt like an entirety ago. "I can't believe you remember that." You laughed.

He chuckled. Neteyam had spent years committing every part of you to memory. He found your surprise amusing. Of course he’d remember. He remembered it all.

You stayed in his embrace until you couldn't keep your eyes open any longer. "I'm ready Neteyam." You breathed.

He nodded blinking back tears. "I see you Ma'Y/N." He gently caressed your face the best he could.

"I see you Ma'Teyam." You grabbed his hand. "Don't worry I'll see you again. Take your time my love."

"Anything for you my moon." He smiled.

As gently as he could he removed your mask. Taking a deep breath in you smiled as you inhaled the scents of the forest. It smelt even better than you imagined.

Neteyam laid next to you holding your hand looking up to the sky. You admired the stars before glancing over at Neteyam. He met your eyes and smiled. Your breathes were started to become labored. "It's okay love. You can rest now." He said fighting back a sob.

Your vision was turning black around the edges. Neteyam was talking to you but you couldn’t register what he was saying. Slowly your eyes closed. Your chest stopped. Just like that you were gone.

This was exactly how you asked. Neteyam fulfilled every last one of your wishes even if it killed him inside. Your whole life you wanted nothing more than to experience Pandora without any restrictions. And in that brief moment you did.

Neteyam held onto your lifeless body as he sobbed. He knew it was happening but nothing would prepare him for the feeling of you actually being gone.

His love. His mate. His best friend. His moon and stars. Gone forever. You were gone and there was nothing he could do to bring you back.

His body shook as he wailed. Neteyam realized that because you were human you were never connected to the spirit tree. He would never be able to see you again. He would never see you again.

Neteyam spent the whole night grieving you. He knew it was just the beginning of many sleepless nights crying for you.

In the morning he carried you back to home tree. Neteyam insisted that you have a traditional Na’vi burial. It didn’t take much convincing as everyone adored you.

His family helped prepare your body. He begged for help not thinking he was strong enough to do it on his own. Once everything was finished they gave him a moment alone. Spider looked up at him with red puffy eyes giving him a pat on the back.

Neteyam spent his last moment with you whispering sweet nothings that you would never hear. Confessions of love that wouldn’t reach your ears.

The last time Neteyam saw you, you were lowered into the ground. He tried to stay collected not wanting his people to see him weak. But this was unbearable.

After the funeral his grandmother approached him. Pulling him in for a rare hug she caressed his head Lovingly. “She is with Eywa now.” She told him.

He looked up at her in shock. You were a human. Neteyam didn’t think it was possible for a sky person to be with Eywa.

“She is?” He asked breathless.

Mo’at simply nodded before leaving him. Neteyam took a moment to process this revelation. A gentle breeze blew through his hair. Taking a deep breath he tried to ground himself.

A delicate tap on his shoulder caused him to open his eyes. A single atokirina' had landed on him. It gently swayed around him. He cupped the spirit his hands smiling, tears streaming down his cheeks.

You were still here. There is no death. Only change.

[ssailormoonn]

❛ CLOSING THE DISTANCE ❜

Tomioka Giyuu X Fem!Reader

WC; 1.3k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW; no warnings, giyuu kills a demon infront of us, reader is his wife, giyuu is distant + more?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) Heyy, i was wondering if you could write a request with tomioka giyuu and reader where they are married/dating but hes really distant with her. One night she gets attacked either by a demon or someone breaking in 🤷‍♀️ and he saves her and like after that its all yours. ❤️❤️❤️ - @toastytoes0

m.list | demon slayer m.list

Giyuu was never really the talkative type, even when the two of you had finally gotten together, and then married, he was still the reserved, few-word type, and his words still both carried an obvious sense of retraction.

He used to converse with you more often when the two of you were just in your girlfriend and boyfriend stage, but now, he's fully withdrawn, barely speaking to you, his wife, who waits for him patiently for him every night. 

Not to say he didn't care-you knew that much, he did in his own little ways. 

On missions, he would disappear from your shared house and return with even fewer words. His eyes were always clouded by something which not even you could figure out.

When you were catering to his injuries, only a few words came from his mouth at best, other than that, it was just soft hisses slipping from his mouth due to the disinfectant.  You reached for him, over and over, you and him, but so often it was as if you just wasn't quite in reach. The nights had been the most difficult. He'd lie beside you, his body would be quite stiff which made you always have a welling guilt bubble up in you as if you did something wrong. But, it was as if he were afraid that even in his sleep he might accidentally draw too close. Giyuu had left earlier that day for a mission and was not expected to return until morning. You were used to being alone, but that night felt off. There was a something hanging in the air, an apparent aura of danger that you couldn't shake.

You were okay. There is wisteria incense burning outside, so you're okay. You shook off the eeirer feeling, deciding to busy yourself with tasks that would take your mind off the sensation. However, no matter how much you busied yourself, that feeling of worry continued to grow stronger in your gut.

A deep and shaky breath leaves your mouth as you calm yourself down. YOu then continued with busying yourself. But then, you found yourself looking out the window, watching as the shadows got longer due to the moon.

That feeling of being watched never left.

You decided to retire to bed, praying that sleep would take you first before anxiety could really set in. As you lay out your shared futon, and snuggle into the sheets, pulling the blanket up to your nose you found yourself unable to sleep, the pounding of your heart was too loud to sleep. And so, midnight came, and your heart wasn't slowing down.

Well into midnight, you heard it, and that's a shaky, quiet gasp that slips past your mouth due to the soft creaking of a floorboard and the gentle rustle of movement. Freezing, your heart pounded inside the chest. Someone-or something-was inside the house. You had barely time to react when, with a burst of speed, your bedroom door swung open, a huge, dark figure filled the doorway, while its silhouette was poorly outlined by the faint moonlight that filtered through the window. Your body instinctively curled up while the figure moved towards you. But before the figure could get any closer, a blur of movement shot through the room. A clanging sound of metal to metal echoed within the small room, followed by an anguished grunt. You look up in time and see Giyuu- Quickly, his blade cutting through the demon. It was over in a matter of seconds. The figure slumped to the ground, dead, and Giyuu stood over them, as they disintegrated into the air. For several moments, neither of you budged. Then suddenly, as if snapped out of his trance, Giyuu turned to you, his eyes wide with guilt. Letting his sword fall to the ground, he whirled himself up to his feet and ran toward your side. The clatter of his sword against the floor sent an echo through the room. Are you hurt?" His voice was rough.

He reached out, his hands trembling over where to touch you. You shook your head wordlessly. The shock from the attack and suddenly seeing your generally distant husband was too much to absorb all at once, and you found yourself reduced to staring up at him, brimming with tears. Giyuu's face softened at the sight of you, his hand finally coming up to rest against your cheek. The warmth touching you sent a shiver running down your back, you leaned into the touch, desperate for any comfort you could recieve. "I'm sorry," he whispered, voice breaking, "I'm so sorry. You'd blinked. Giyuu had never apologized much less voice himself so candidly. "Why?" you croaked out, voice shaking. "Why have you been so distant? Giyuu's hand on your cheek had tightened slightly, his thumb stroked the tear that had escaped your eye. "I... I thought it was for the best. I did not want to hurt you one day, that I have been killed on a mission, and never returned to you. I thought it was best to distance myself, so that maybe if that did happen, it would hurt you less." You shook your head, a sob escaping your lips. "But you're my husband Giyuu, and I want to share that burden with you, be there for you, no matter how dark it will be.

"In a way," he whispered, so low. "I was afraid-afraid that if I did, I'd lose you." You reached out with your free hand and gently touched his, your fingers intertwining with his. "You won't lose me," you promised, trying to keep your voice steady when it was still quivering from the falling tears. "But you will if you keep pushing me away." He pulled you close to him, clasping you tightly against his chest, as if he really did fear you would disappear should he let go. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his familiar scent as you let yourself finally relax in the circle of his arms.

He hugged you like you were the most precious thing in the world, and in this moment, you knew things would go differently from here on out. Giyuu leaned down, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead, his lips staying there.

"I'll protect you," he whispered low. "I'll always protect you."

And for the first time, you did believe him.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | demon slayer m.list

demon slayers m.list

[littleplantfreak]

Silly/Clumsy WB boys HCs

I see hcs like this and theyre always fun/make me laugh o(｀ω´ )o

Sakura’s food went down the wrong pipe at a restaurant and when the waiter asked if it was because it was too spicy, he insisted through coughing and tears that that definitely wasn’t the case (he could tell they didnt believe him though)

Tsugeura sometimes lets one rip by accident when he’s exercising. Not even a little fart either, the kind that stops everyone from what they’re doing.

One time Nirei stubbed his toe so hard, he fell and grabbed onto the nearest object. Unfortunately that was the back of Sakura’s pants, making him accidentally moon a few people in class.

Word recall is hard sometimes. So when Choji calls an ambulance a ‘hospital truck’ really what can you do? At least he’s using words. Sometimes he just mimes the shape or action of the thing and insists that you know what he’s talking about. Will draw a picture if he gets frustrated enough, but if it’s something intangible? Well it’s a guessing word game. (Togame is the best at it, but Inugami is on Choji’s wavelength enough that he’s pretty accurate too)

Hiragi calls the first years by the wrong name sometimes, like a mom with too many kids. He’ll yell and say Sugishita when he means Sakura, but he does apologize before yelling again.

Because he’s around older guys a lot, Togame sometime uses really old words or sayings. You haven’t hear the saying “It’s raining cats and dogs” or he’s “bleeding like a stuck pig” in years until you’re stuck under an awning during a passing storm or he comes back from a rough fight, nose still bleeding profusely. Also keeps bag balm/cetaphil, some other really good lotion for calluses and dry skin and just kinda slaps it on whatever shishitoren member he sees who’s hands are cracking, saying that the skin won’t heal as well when they’re older so they better take care of it now.

Umemiya’s got the worst habit of losing, dropping, or sitting on his glasses. He doesn’t realize it until he hears the snap and he’s got them taped up until he can go get them fixed again.

Kaji’s kind of a messy eater. Especially with ice cream or food with sauce on it. Started to get better with checking his face after eating after Hiragi slapped a wet wipe on his face after he devoured a rack of ribs, leaving him looking like he’d cannibalized someone

[headkiss]

give you the moon

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

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

word count: 17.8k

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

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

༄

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

New city, new apartment, new tattoo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Nancy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright. Got an idea for size?”

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

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

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

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

“Okay. Thank you, Eddie.”

“‘Course. I’ll be right back.”

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

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

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

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

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

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

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

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

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

“Don’t move,” he chides quietly.

“Sorry.”

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

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

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

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

“I know, but it’s good. I like it.”

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

“I won’t! I’m sure, promise.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hope so. Anyway, thanks, Nancy.”

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

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

-

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

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

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

-

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. I’ll see you then.”

“Okay, see you-”

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

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

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

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

“Why are you still here, Steve?”

“Why are you still here?” He retorts.

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up.”

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

“Who said anything about a girlfriend?”

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Yes, I’m good.”

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

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

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

“This one. It’s really good.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s great. Really.”

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

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

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

“Sorry. ‘M just nervous.”

“You’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

He manages to ease you with very few words.

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

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

“You okay?” He checks.

“Yeah, it’s not that bad.”

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

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

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

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

“Okay, thanks.”

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

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

“So, why the moon?” He asks.

“Huh?”

“Why’d you choose the moon?”

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

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

“That’s really…wow.”

“Sorry. I kinda rambled there.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Please,” you nod.

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

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

“Eddie, it’s beautiful.”

So are you, he thinks.

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

“I love it. Seriously, thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How was it?” Nancy asks you.

“Good! I’m really happy with it.”

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

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

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

You settle for overthinking on your walk home instead.

-

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

It was just a quick question, really, but you were still nervous. You’d only gotten the tattoo yesterday and already you were calling.

You’d realized when reading the aftercare instructions he gave you, that you didn’t have any unscented, gentle lotion like it called for, and you wanted to know if he had any suggestions for what works best. You tried going to the pharmacy, but the options were overwhelming.

You ended up buying something anyway because of how long you spent there. A useless magazine that was the closest thing to you when you noticed how some of the employees were looking at you. Some girl reading way too many lotion labels.

Yeah, definitely embarrassing, and definitely something you won’t let yourself live down.

The phone doesn’t ring for long before someone picks up, “Corroded Coffin Tattoos, Nancy speaking.”

“Hi Nancy,” you tell her your name.

“Hey! How can I help you?”

“Um, Eddie told me to call and ask for him if I had any questions,” you explain. “I was wondering if he’s available for a minute?”

“He did?” She sounds surprised.

“Um. Yeah.”

“Huh. Usually he makes one of us deal with calls instead. I’ll put you on hold and let him know, okay?”

“‘Kay. Thanks, Nancy.”

Desperately, you try not to overthink what she said. That he doesn’t usually get his clients to talk to him for things as minor as this. Why would he want you to, then? You don’t know why every little thing he does sends your mind into a whirlwind of ‘why’s and ‘what does this mean’s.

It’s maybe two minutes—silence filled by your thoughts—before the phone is picked up again.

“Hello?”

You can tell that it’s Eddie.

“Hi. Sorry to bother you but I just had a quick question for you.”

Eddie knows it’s you; he’s not expecting a call from anyone else. Not that he was expecting yours, it’s just that you’re the only client he’s even told to ask for him. He tries to cover that up by saying, “who’s this?”

“Oh, guess I should’ve said. Sorry,” you remind him of your name, as if he could forget it.

“Don’t be sorry. What’s your question?”

He’s quick to get to the point, and you can’t tell if it’s because he’s eager to help, or if it’s that he’s eager to get the conversation over with. Nancy’s words replay in your head. Usually he makes one of us deal with calls instead.

“I noticed that for aftercare, it says to use gentle lotion,” he hums along, urging you to continue. “I wasn’t sure what exactly that meant and I even went to the pharmacy but I didn’t know which one was good-”

“It’s okay,” he cuts you off. “I’ve got some here at the shop. Do you have time today to come pick it up?”

“Yeah! Yes, that’s great. Thanks so much, I promise I’ll get out of your hair after this.”

He doesn’t like the way that sits with him. He doesn’t want you out of his hair. He wants to see you again, he’s realized, and it’s almost too much for him to handle. The way he feels about you is brand new for him—never felt before. He wants to know everything about you.

“‘Course. See you soon, then.”

“Bye, Eddie.”

He hangs up.

You leave a bit after that. Not too soon, because you didn’t want to make it seem like you didn’t have other things to do, even though you didn’t. You’ve memorized the walk to the store at this point, and it doesn’t take you long to get there. You’re greeted by Nancy once again, only in person this time.

“Welcome back,” she says.

“Hi,” you smile at her, you hope it doesn’t look like a nervous grimace. “Um, Eddie told me to come here to pick something up.”

“Right, okay,” she stands, heading in the direction of his office, pausing to say, “he must really like you.”

Great. Some more material for you to analyze about Eddie and how he acts with you. It’s odd to have someone on your mind so constantly, to try and make sense of it. He has something about him that pulls you in, and you’re not sure how, or why, but you let yourself be pulled.

His hair is tied in a low bun when you see him, his bangs and stray strands of hair make it look messy, like he hasn’t had the time to redo it. And yet, he had the time to speak to you on the phone and now.

“Moon girl,” he says, lips turned up just enough to be noticeable.

“Eddie, hi,” your hands twist themselves into the sleeves of your knitted sweater. “Thank you for taking time for me, I know it was a dumb question.”

“It wasn’t. I’m glad you care enough to make sure you’re using the right things,” he says. He holds out the lotion, “speaking of.”

“Perfect. How much do I owe?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He probably shouldn’t make a habit of giving things away for free to girls he thinks are pretty and that confuse him way too much. For you, though, he’ll make an exception. It’s not like anybody else is driving him nuts like you are, anyway.

“No, you’ve done so much already. Please let me pay.”

“It’s fine, I promise that one bottle of lotion won’t hurt me.” But this possibly being the last time I see you might, he thinks.

“If you’re sure.”

“I am,” he confirms. “I’ll see you around then.”

“Bye, Eddie. Thank you.”

“Bye, moon girl.”

You look down at your feet as he walks away, letting your hair curtain your face. You really shouldn’t be feeling so giddy because of a fucking bottle of lotion and a new nickname, but you are.

“Holy shit,” Robin’s voice comes from the front desk. You hadn’t noticed, but she must’ve walked out at some point during your quick interaction with Eddie.

You curse yourself and try to hide the smile that threatens to spread across your face. “Hey, Robin.”

“Well hello,” she’s looking at you like she knows something you don’t, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “I don’t know how you did it but he’s never acted like that with any client. Like, ever.”

You don’t say anything, biting the inside of your lip to distract from the butterflies in your stomach.

“And, I’m so glad you’re here,” she changes the subject, thankfully. “Because Eddie mentioned you’re new to the city and god knows I could use friends who don’t work here and I wanted to know if you wanted to come for drinks sometime?”

Eddie spoke about you? Robin wants to be your friend? You can’t wrap your head around either of those things. It’s been so long since you’ve hung out with someone who wasn’t family. And even then, it was tiring, not fun.

You realize she’s still waiting for an answer when she clears her throat.

“Sorry, um. Yeah, that would be nice.”

“Yay!” She cheers. “What’s your number? I’ll call you next time there’s plans.”

You write it down on a scrap piece of paper for her, and she beams at you when she takes it.

“Eddie‘s gonna be thanking me for this one later,” she teases. “I think we’ll be great friends.”

You look at her smile, at her crooked tie that rests atop an oversized button up. You think she might be right about that.

-

As soon as you leave Robin and Nancy go to Eddie’s office. An intervention of sorts. They walk in without knocking (the door was open anyway) and stand in front of him with some look.

He’s pretty sure he knows why they’re both staring at him with knowing smiles, but he tries to ignore them and busy himself with some sketches.

Robin’s not having it, so she sits in the chair across from Eddie, kicking her feet up onto his desk.

“What do you want?” He sighs.

“Um, hello? Are we not gonna pretend that you weren’t flirting with her in your own, weird, Eddie way?” Robin starts.

“Dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Come on,” Nancy joins the conversation, on Robin’s side as always. “You’ve never told a client to ask for you, or given them free stuff.”

“Yeah! And, you were all ‘see you around, moon girl, hey let me stare at you and then not do anything about it,’” Robin lowers her voice, imitating him very inaccurately.

“I don’t know. She was nice, that’s all.”

“Nice enough to break your little rule of being mister nonchalant. I think you like her,” she’s right, but Eddie doesn’t even want to admit that to himself, let alone his friends.

He doesn’t say anything, shifting in his seat. He knows they both mean well, but he doesn’t know what to think and an ambush isn’t necessarily helping that. The pit in his stomach he’s had since he realized he might never see you again hasn't lessened, and the memory of your perfume or the feeling of your skin hasn’t faded.

So, maybe you did have an effect on him, but it doesn’t matter anymore. It didn’t matter in the first place because he wouldn’t let it.

“Look, Eddie, we’re not trying to make you admit anything,” Nancy says, “we just noticed that you acted differently with her. Steve did, too, I’m sure. And it was a good different. You seemed less guarded, I guess.”

“What she said!” Robin adds.

“Yeah, thanks guys, but it’s nothing, okay?”

They share a look, one that Eddie doesn’t understand but he’s gotten used to their silent communications over time. He scratches at the back of his neck, nervous about what they’re thinking.

“Anyway, I got her number,” Robin says, holding the small paper you wrote on for Eddie to see.

He grabs it, staring at your handwriting and the small heart you added next to your name. He fights a smile at the sight of it, cute and lopsided and though he doesn’t know you well, it’s very you.

He clears his throat, handing the paper back. “I’ve got her number on file already.”

“It’s not for you! It’s for me and Nance. We’re gonna be friends,” she grins, proud.

“We’re probably gonna invite her next time we go out, and wanted you to know. Just in case you care,” Nancy says, explaining.

Just in case you care.

He does care, he thinks. He cares way too much for someone he’s met three times and knows very little about. He knows you’re pretty, you apologize a ton, you fidget with your hands when you’re nervous, and you like the moon.

He knows that he cares what you think about him, and that when you called the tattoo he gave you beautiful, it meant more to him than most compliments do. ‘Cause it was you who said it. It’s too much for him.

Maybe he’ll skip out on the next outing.

“That’s nice,” he settles for.

“She’s new to the city and she’s cool. Don’t you think, Eddie?” Robin asks.

He swipes her boot-clad feet from his desk in response.

“We just don’t want you to hold yourself back, that’s all. You never go on dates or anything, even though you’ve had many chances,” Nancy says, softer now that she sees Eddie’s mind is full.

“Thanks for caring, you guys, seriously. But I’m fine. I like being single.”

“So, just be friends with her, then,” Robin suggests.

Her and Nancy leave him alone after that, his mind a bigger mess than before and it’s completely surrounding you. He doesn’t understand how someone could make him rethink everything like he is.

I like being single, he’d said.

And yet, when he imagines going on a date with you, giving you flowers, complimenting your dress or your hair, he’s not sure how true that statement is.

-

Your days drag by. You work in a small café, and whenever you’re not there, you’re either wasting away hours in your apartment or taking aimless walks. It’s a never-ending cycle, a carousel spinning round and round.

The only eventful thing that happened to you (other than your new tattoo) was accidentally spilling coffee all over yourself at work and having to stick out the rest of your shift in wet clothes. Not necessarily something you want to remember.

You’re beginning to lose hope that Robin will ever use your number.

It shocks you when your phone finally rings. You try to convince yourself it’s telemarketers, a wrong number, anything not to get your hopes up. Lucky for you, it actually is Robin.

“Hello?” Is your automatic word when you pick up.

“Hi! Listen, I’m so sorry it took so long to call,” she doesn’t have to say it to know it’s her. Robin has a very distinct way of speaking; rushed and animated. “So, I actually lost the paper. Silly me! But, then I found it and I had to convince the others to want to go out. Anyway, you wanna come?”

“Hi, Robin. That’s okay,” you find yourself smiling. Your first real one in a while. “When?”

“Oh! I forgot to say. Tonight?”

“I can do that,” you try to sound excited, you hope she can tell.

“Perfect! Do you have a pen and paper? I’ll tell you the place.”

You reach for your notepad and pen and do your best not to drop the phone in the process. Somehow, you manage.

“Yep, ready.”

She rambles off an address, a meeting time, and then, “shit. Boss is coming, better act like I’m working. Bye!”

She hangs up, and you know who she means when she says ‘boss.’

You’ve been trying your best not to think of Eddie, but it’s easier said than done. You constantly think you see him in crowds that pass by. A head of long, curly hair here, a worn leather jacket there. It’s confusing and almost embarrassing.

This boy who you barely know, taking up so much space in your life.

You’re reminded that you’ll most likely be seeing him tonight, as long as you’re right in assuming that by ‘the others,’ Robin meant her coworkers. The thought makes you nervous, makes your stomach do things you aren’t used to.

Despite the time you had between the phone call and when you had to leave, you’re in a hurry to get ready. Picking your outfit was the hardest part, because you’d never been to the place before. You decided on a dress that was simple enough, a denim jacket that you’d probably end up taking off (you get warm when you drink), and your trusty Doc Martens.

Your makeup is a little messy, but you don’t have enough time to fix it so you act like the smudged eyeliner was purposefully done. Your hair was left down.

Walking through the doors of the bar, you’re a couple minutes late and a little out of breath from your rushing. You look around in search of a familiar face when waving catches your eye.

It’s Robin, who’s waving the most obviously, her arm swinging back and forth until Nancy pulls it down and says something to her. Probably telling her you’ve seen them and she can stop. It’s sweet.

You make your way through the crowd towards the booth they’d secured. The boy, who’s introduced to you as Steve, is sitting in the corner on one side, Robin and Nancy on the other. Eddie’s absence is noted, and you guess you must’ve looked confused because Robin spoke up and said, “he’s just in the bathroom.”

She beckons you to sit with her and Nancy, and you fall into conversation easily. Even Steve is easy to talk to and you’ve only just learned his name. Sometimes you worry you’re intruding in their group, an outsider. In a way, you are, because you don’t work with them nor have you been friends with any of them for a long time, but they have yet to make you feel that way.

It’s a far cry from the friends (or lack thereof) you had back home, in the best way possible.

When Eddie comes back, the first thing he sees is you. He’s shocked. Not because you’re there—he was well aware of you being invited—but because you look like you belong with his friends. You fit right in, and you aren’t even trying. Then, he notices your dress and he wishes he could ignore the feeling he gets.

He’s painfully aware of how pretty you are, and when you look over, as if feeling his eyes on you, you give him a small smile and wave. He walks over and slides into the booth next to Steve as casually as possible.

“You look nice,” he says. It’s the best he can come up with.

“Thank you.”

The two of you are too busy looking at each other and trying to figure out what to say when the others share some kind of look. Knowing.

Your nerves pickup when Eddie’s around and you scold yourself for it. You have no business feeling anything towards him, and yet, his very simple compliment will be the root of your daydreams for days to come.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” you think you need one. “What’s everyone else want?”

“I’ll help you bring them,” Robin says.

You both stand, and everyone tells you what they want. You make your way to the bar and wait your turn. The feelings you have towards Eddie are confusing, and you’re not exactly sure what they even are. Intrigue, attraction, tension. Whatever it is, it’s unfamiliar.

Robin leans on the bar beside you, noticing you looking towards Eddie before even you do. When you pry your eyes away, she’s smirking at you.

“He likes you, you know?”

“Who, Eddie?” You ask even though you know that’s who she’s talking about. “No, he doesn’t. I actually think he dislikes me.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding. I’ve never seen him act like he does around you, and I’ve known him a really long time. Seriously.”

“He’s just being nice,” that’s all it is, you’re convincing her as well as yourself.

“Please. I know he’s hard to read and seems kind of closed-off, but he’s warmer towards you than most people. He barely even talks to clients, usually.”

Everything she’s saying, you can tell she thinks is true, but if you let yourself think it, too, you’d be absolutely fucked. Your mind would go wild with scenarios and imagining what could happen. You’re doing enough of that as is.

“I don’t know, Robin.”

“You’ll see, trust me.”

Unbeknownst to you, a very similar conversation is happening back at the table. Steve and Nancy are trying to knock some sense into Eddie, to get him to realize it’s okay to let someone else in. He denies it all just as you did, his head a mess.

He realizes that you’re not his client anymore, you’re here as a possible friend, and it scares him. There’s no guise to hide under with his urge to care for you.

When you and Robin return with the drinks, you’re the one who hands Eddie his, and when his fingers brush against yours, just barely, he feels them tingle even after the contact ends.

You loosen up a little bit as the night goes on, and you do end up taking your jacket off. The spaghetti straps of your dress leave your tattoo exposed, and Eddie can’t help but look at it. He’s always proud of his work, but seeing it on you is different for him. He likes that his mark is on you.

Nancy and Robin leave first, walking out leaned into each other. The rest of you follow shortly after, Steve slipping out after a quick goodbye. When you stand, you stumble slightly. Eddie catches you, a hand wrapped around your upper arm.

“Let me walk you home,” he says, his hand trailing down your arm lightly before he pulls away completely.

“That’s okay, Eddie. Really.”

You put your jacket back on and struggle to find one of the sleeves, your arm reaching back awkwardly. Once again, Eddie’s quick to help you, pulling your jacket over and guiding your arm to the right spot. You thank him quietly.

“C’mon, it’s dark out.”

“You’re not gonna let me say no, are you?”

He shakes his head, that small smile you so rarely see making an appearance.

The walk is quiet for a bit, the chilled air of the night nipping at your skin, your arms pulling your jacket tight to your chest. He falls into step next to you easily, pace matching yours so he stays right next to you.

He can tell you’re cold, and he resists the urge to throw an arm over your shoulders and pull you closer to warm you up. It’d be weird, he thinks. You barely know him and he’s sure you’d much rather be walking with one of the girls right now than with him.

“Sorry for, like, intruding in your friend group.”

Though you haven’t felt like an outsider, you do feel bad about worming your way into their group that seemed to have stayed the same for so long. You feel bad for the change you caused, the shift.

“What? You’re not,” he says.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, moon girl. I am.”

He knows he might not be the most welcoming person, but he doesn’t mind having you around, really. What he minds is the confusion that comes along with it, which isn’t your fault at all. That’s on him.

“Okay. Thanks for letting me come, then.”

“I think Robin would have smacked me if I didn’t. Besides, you’re nice to have around.”

He doesn’t know if it’s the few drinks or if it’s just a fluke, but the bit of honesty slips out of him with ease. Eddie’s not a trusting person, he’s been through too much for that, but he has never once felt like you were judging him.

The rest of the walk to your apartment is filled with light conversation and small, awkward silences. Having him next to you does make you feel safer, though. You never know what could happen.

He walks you all the way up to your door. You pull out your keys and fiddle with them, your hand shakes when you try to insert it into the lock. You miss a couple of times and feel the embarrassment scorch you. You don’t know if it’s the cold, or the drinks, or if it’s him making your hands unstable. Maybe it’s all of the above.

Yet again, Eddie helps you. He comes up behind you, his chest hovering over your back, close enough to feel the heat of his body, not close enough to touch.

“Here, sweetheart” he wraps his hand around yours and guides the key into the slot, the pet name slipping out without him noticing.

You do notice, though. He says it so softly, and you think it’s your favorite word that’s come out of his mouth so far. It has your heartbeat picking up, a steady thump in your chest.

“Thanks,” you breathe out.

You turn around, leaving the key in the door for now. He’s much closer than you were expecting and he doesn’t back away. Your back against your door, your nose almost touching his.

Then, something shifts, and he’s leaning in and kissing you.

It takes you a second to get over your initial shock, but you recover quickly, winding your arms around his neck and kissing him back. He makes a sound against your mouth when you do, pressing you further into the door. He has a thigh between yours, his hands holding your waist tightly.

He kisses you like he means it, and you forget about everything else. You forget that this Eddie is the same one who puzzles you so much, that not long ago you were convinced that you’d never see him again. And yet, he’s here, kissing you sick in your hallway.

He sucks at your bottom lip, pulling away and letting it snap back into place, opening his eyes to look at you for a second, then he dives back in. Soon enough, he’s licking along the seam of your lips to open you up, and his tongue has your knees weak.

When you whimper into his mouth, he tenses.

He’s snapped back into reality, realizing that he just made out with you against your door. He pulls away, pushing his fingers into his hair. There’s a sudden change, though this one feels much worse than the one where he kissed you.

There are too many things in his head. Thinking he shouldn’t be doing this or that you’ll hate him for it. You’re about to open your mouth and ask him what’s wrong when he speaks first.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he steps back until he’s against the wall opposite from you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Eddie-”

“No, shit. I’m sorry. Good night.”

He’s walking away before you can say anything else. You stand frozen for what could be minutes before finally letting yourself into your apartment. Closing and locking the door behind you, you lean your forehead against the wood and wonder what the fuck just happened.

You’re not sure what you did wrong to make him have to leave so suddenly, and you know it’ll torment you constantly. Replaying in the back of your mind. The worst part is, you were ready to invite him inside, to let him do whatever he wanted with you. He was gone before you could even get there.

Eddie feels awful for leaving the way he did, and he thinks about turning around and knocking on your door the whole way home. He never does, though. He’s sure you don’t want to see him.

You both have a fitful sleep that night. Blocks away, both tossing and turning in bed with that kiss plaguing your minds.

-

Robin and Nancy’s calls grow more frequent over the following couple of weeks, and in turn, so do your encounters with Eddie. You’ve become closer, would like to say you’ve become friends, even. Though, nothing like the kiss that the two of you choose to ignore happens again.

You chalked it up to his tipsiness, he tries to forget it altogether.

It’s not because it was bad, or unwanted. It’s quite the opposite, actually. Eddie’s so used to kissing meaning absolutely nothing, leading to more every single time. Your kiss, though, was completely different. It made him feel more than he knew he was capable of.

He’s surprised that you have yet to say something about it, especially considering the way that he left. It’s a two way street; he doesn’t bring it up at all, either.

He wants to. He wants to be able to explain himself to you, to tell you why he had to pull himself away so quickly. Only, he’s not sure how. He doesn’t know how to explain the way he finds himself drawn to you, the reason he kissed you, or the feeling that runs through him every time you lock eyes. If he can’t even make sense of it himself, how is he supposed to make sense of it to you?

He can’t even bring himself to tell anyone about it because he knows, as much as they try, it won’t help.

Tonight, you’re all piled on the couches in Steve’s apartment (it’s the nicest one) eating pizza straight from the box and chatting. It’s nice to be a part of a true friend group. You’ve never had anything like it before.

“Eddie, you left your guitar here, you know?” Steve says.

He plays guitar? Fuck.

“Shit, yeah. I did.”

“You know what that means,” Robin draws out the last word, shimmying her shoulders.

“No. Absolutely not,” Eddie shakes his head.

“Please! Serenade us, Eddie.”

They go back and forth for a bit and your gaze switches between the two of them like you’re watching a game of ping pong.

“I’d like to hear you play,” you pitch in.

Robin—of course—wears a smirk. She’s been trying to get the two of you together since she saw how you interacted, and she knows Eddie won’t say no to you. He couldn’t if he tried.

“Really?” Eddie asks softly.

“Yeah. I didn’t know you played,” you shift in your seat, “I’d love to hear it. If you want.”

He fiddles with his guitar pick necklace, which you catch. Maybe that should’ve been a dead giveaway that he’s a musician, but you’d never noticed it before, usually hidden by the collar of his shirt.

Eddie’s not usually a nervous person, but the prospect of you listening to him play has him feeling that way. He’s never worried so much about how someone looks at him, or what they might think. With you, he worries because he wants to impress you, he’s realized.

“Yeah, okay. Just for you, I’ll go grab it.”

Just for you. You turn your face away to try and hide how it affects you.

He asks Steve where he left it, and goes off to retrieve it. You watch him walk away until he disappears behind a corner. There’s something about him that pulls you in, something you wish you could figure out. You know you like him, it’s quite obvious, but it’s the kind that has thoughts of him crowding your mind and that has you overthinking every word.

“You guys are paining me, I hope you know,” Robin says.

“We’re just friends. Seriously.”

“Are you sure about that?” Steve adds on. Nancy tends to just observe when the topic of you and Eddie is brought up. She’s a rational person, and she’s trying to let it work itself out naturally. Though, she’s sure it will work out eventually. Hopefully sooner than later.

Eddie comes back before you can manage a reply, holding an acoustic guitar decorated with messy, white, painted-on lettering that says ‘this machine slays dragons.’

He sits down and tunes the guitar first, focused on his task. It gives you a chance to look at him closely, lets you get away with it because the others are watching him, too. Waiting for him to start to play. When he does, you’re transfixed.

Your eyes don’t stray from him at all throughout the song he plays. His fingers move with so much ease, his rings catching the light. It’s no surprise that he’s talented with his hands, just look at the art he creates on people’s bodies everyday. But, this is another layer to it, a piece of him that made you want to see more. Made you want to collect every jigsaw piece until you had the whole image.

You think you could listen to him play for hours on end and never get tired of his strumming. Yeah, you really do like him.

When he finishes, everyone gives him a round of applause, and he hopes his hair does enough to cover up the blush that blooms on his cheeks. He looks to you first, and you’re beaming, looking at him like he’s just done something groundbreaking.

“That was amazing, Eddie,” you say.

“It’s nothing special,” he replies.

“It is. You’re really talented,” you sound so sincere it squeezes his heart in a fist. “Double talented, actually.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

He lets it slip again, and you soak it up. Eddie tries to avoid the looks from his friends, especially after the pet name. Surely, they’re all wearing smug smiles and plotting ways to talk him into giving whatever the thing between the two of you is a go.

He sets the guitar aside, clearing his throat amidst the awkward silence. You look at your lap and frown at the run in your tights that you just noticed, avoiding being the first to say anything.

Every new detail you learn about Eddie only makes you like him more. You’re still not sure if he even considers you a friend, but you certainly consider him one. You would ask but decide to save yourself the stress of having to bring it up. The worst part is, the idea of him not liking you hurts more than you’d like to admit.

The silence is eventually broken, and the floodgates of conversation have opened back up. You and Eddie both let out a breath of relief, synchronized in secrecy.

When you get up to leave, Eddie suddenly has the urge to go, too, and he offers to take you home. Much like the time before, he doesn’t let you decline the offer. He’s just being nice, you think to yourself, he would do it for anyone.

This time, he drove, and he opens the passenger door for you when you reach his car. It smells like him inside, sandalwood, something sweet, the underlying smokiness of cigarettes that you don’t mind when it comes to him. He has a pair of dice hanging from his mirror, though they’re twenty-sided instead of your average six.

“You’ll have to give me directions back to yours,” he says, starting the car. “I remember the area, but…”

Yes, he remembers the area all too well. It’s where he lingered after he sprung a kiss on you and then walked away. It’s where he jerked himself around mentally trying to decide whether he should go back to you or just go home.

“Don’t worry, I can be your map.”

The drive is silent save for the music humming through the speakers and your occasional instructions on which turns to take. It isn’t awkward, you don’t think. It’s comfortable in the way that you don’t feel the need to fill it.

One of Eddie’s hands reaches out and lightly tugs on your skirt, “this looks really nice on you.”

He pulls it away after he says it and you wish he didn’t.

“Oh,” you look down at the fabric, something you’ve owned for years, worn when you can’t figure anything else out. It’s never been anything special, but now, you feel like it might be. “Thank you.”

Eddie feels inclined to compliment you all of the time, he’s learned, but he often lets them float in his head rather than say them to you.

He parks on the street by your apartment complex soon after, but you don’t get out right away. You unbuckle your seatbelt and place a hand on the door, but he stops you.

The sight of your building has him thinking about the night you kissed for what feels like the thousandth time. He wants to kiss you again and he clenches his fists to ground himself. If you’re any bit as torn up about it as him, he wants to know. He also wants to try and explain himself to you, even if he still isn’t sure how.

“Hey. About that night,” he doesn’t have to specify. You know exactly what he’s talking about. Your hand lets go of the door handle, settling in your lap. “I’m sorry I kissed you.”

“You are?”

You don’t want him to be sorry, or to feel bad about it. You only want to know what you did to scare him off the way you did. You also want him to kiss you again.

“Um, yeah. I shouldn’t have just sprung onto you like that.”

“Why did you?” Is what you say next.

“I dunno. You just looked so pretty, and I had the urge. The drinks gave me the strength to do it, I guess.”

He hadn’t been drunk, not one bit, but he doesn’t want to use the alternate explanation just yet. He doesn’t want to say ‘I kissed you because you confuse me more than anyone else. Because I’ve never felt so bent out of shape because of one person. Because you were looking at me like you wanted me to, and I can’t say no to you.’

He could, but he doesn’t want to.

“You think I’m pretty?”

He nods, almost ashamed about it.

“I think you’re pretty, too, Eddie,” his eyes lock onto yours, “and I’m not sorry you kissed me at all.”

“What?”

“I liked kissing you. I was going to ask you if you wanted to come inside before you left.”

You don’t know where your candidness is coming from, but you can’t stop yourself anymore. You’ve wondered and wondered what could’ve happened that night had he stayed, and by the way his gaze flicks down to your lips, you think you might find out.

The car suddenly feels smaller, the air thicker, when he asks, “does that offer still stand?”

You nod, he shuts off the car. You both get out, walking up to your place in a sort of haze. Neither of you know what will come from any of this, you’re going in blind and it’s as exciting as it is nerve-wracking.

Things slow down once you’re inside. It’s as if a fog has cleared and now, you’re both painfully aware of everything you’re doing, or saying. His eyes flit around your apartment in silence, looking at your bookshelf, noting the lack of personal photos.

You cut in before he can comment on your place, “can I get you anything? Water, or…”

When he responds, it’s not to your question. Instead, he asks you one: “how’s your tattoo healing?”

He’s been curious about how you’re feeling with it ever since he caught glimpses of it that night at the bar. You pause by your small kitchen island, looking him over before you can manage to reply.

“Oh. Good, I think,” you shrug a shoulder, “I don’t know enough about tattoos but it hasn’t bothered me much.”

“I can look at it, if you want.”

“Are you sure?”

You say it as if he would be going through lots of trouble to do so, when in reality he’s using it as an excuse to get his hands on you. Tattoos are familiar, not foreign the way his feelings for you are. It’s an excuse to ease himself into whatever this is.

“‘Course I am, let me see.”

“Okay. Light’s better in the bathroom.”

He follows you into your bathroom, and you wish you’d taken into account how small it is because you’re forced to be close to him and it’s making you nervous. The anticipation and unknown a flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

“Shirt off,” he says, his voice smooth.

You listen, because it’s hard not to when he sounds the way he does. You turn to face the mirror and peel your shirt away, tossing it to the ground when you do. You’re suddenly very aware that your bra isn’t the nicest you own, and your instinct is to cover it with your arms.

Eddie stops you, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror, his hands wrapping around your wrists gently, pulling them down. “Don’t you dare. You’re beautiful.”

He looks away after he says it, but you can tell he means it. It’s in the way he makes sure you’re looking at him when he speaks, the way he squeezes your wrists reassuringly before letting them go.

For a second, he forgot why you’re even in the position you are. He forgets that he’s meant to be looking at your tattoo until you say, “how is it?”

“Right, yeah,” he looks it over, and he’s satisfied to see that it looks exactly how it should at this stage. “Really good, actually. You’re doing a great job.”

The compliment warms your insides.

“Thank you.”

“Want me to clean it for you?”

“Sure, thanks.”

He does, disinfecting it first, after finding your products on your counter. He’s gentle as usual, his hands a welcome feeling. Then, he applies the layer of lotion slowly, almost like he’s trying to tease you. It’s working.

His hands trail down your arms when he’s done, his head dipping down to press a kiss on the top of your shoulder. The first one is soft, a barely-there push of his lips against your skin. The next is a bit firmer, his confidence growing with each one.

They trail over the curve of your shoulder, his hands still running their paths up and down your arms, raising goosebumps in their wake, his chunky rings cold. He kisses his way up your neck, your head lulling to the side to grant him more access and your eyes fluttering shut.

Everything he does is filing you up more and more and he’s barely even begun.

“Eddie,” you sigh when he tugs on your earlobe with his teeth.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

He has no idea what’s come over him, but there’s no hiding the effect you have over him anymore. As soon as he got his hands on you, even just to clean your tattoo, he knew he’d be addicted.

“What are you doing?”

“Kissing you. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, yes, it’s- feels nice.”

You would be overthinking if you weren’t so distracted by the feeling of his lips on your skin. And when he uses a hand to tilt your face towards his and kisses you, you’re not sure there’s a single thought left in your head.

There’s something about him that makes everything more intense. You feel like all of your senses are captured by him and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. The smell of his cologne, the taste on his tongue, the feeling of his hands on you and his long hair tickling your skin. All of it.

Eddie pulls away to let the both of you breathe only when it’s absolutely necessary. He’s drunk on every kiss he gets from you and he doesn’t mind one bit. He wonders what you’re like in bed, what sounds you’d make for him, and he can’t stop himself from asking, “can I fuck you?”

The words are spoken between heavy breaths, puffed out against your lips.

“Yes. Please.”

Please, you say. As if you would even have to beg him. You have no idea what you’re doing to him and it only makes him want you more. He pushes his hips against your ass, letting you feel how hard he is and you whimper, you fucking whimper and he’s so gone.

He pushes you down to bed over the counter with a hand on the center of your back, and you obey easily. You’re practically squirming with want, the dampness in your panties growing with every move he makes.

Then, he flips your skirt up, his hands running over the tights that cover you before ripping them in the middle.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he says.

He keeps a hand on your back, though its drifted much lower, and the other sneaks its way between your legs, cupping you over your underwear before pressing his fingers against you. You can't help but moan at the feeling.

“Soaking already, sweetheart?” He taunts.

“Eddie, come on.”

“What is it?”

“You’re teasing me,” you huff out, your cheek pressed against your cool countertop.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

He hooks his fingers in the fabric covering you, pulling it aside and going right back to his teasing. His fingers run up and down your slit, dipping into where you’re wet only to pull away and circle your clit; just enough to give you a taste, to have you wanting more.

He’s winding you up and up and up and you think you might pass out if he doesn’t make you come soon.

“Eddie.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve got you.”

It’s then that he pushes one finger in, his rings that still sit around his fingers only add to the intensity. He works a second one in quickly, your cunt sucking him in and he can’t even imagine how good it’ll feel when he gets to fuck you for real.

He’s quick to learn what you like, what makes you pulse around his fingers or moan a little louder. You had no clue that things could ever feel this good and when his thumb finds your clit, you’re absolutely done for.

Your breaths come out hot, bits of condensation gathering on the counter, “fuck. Oh my god.”

“Feel good?” He asks even though he knows damn well it does—your reactions are telling enough. He picks up the pace, his fingers pressing against that spot that has your knees going weak. He wraps his unoccupied arm around your waist to hold you up.

“So, so good, Eddie. Gonna come.”

“Go on, all over my hand, sweetness. Then I’ll fill you right up, how’s that sound?”

Your response is caught in your throat, a whine bubbling out instead.

“Quicker you come, the quicker I’ll give it to you,” he tacks on.

The thought of him fucking you after this drives you nuts because if just his fingers feel this good, you can’t even imagine what his cock will be like. Your orgasm washes over you, eyes rolling back.

He works you through it, steadily slowing down and easing away to give you a break. He pulls his fingers away, chuckling at the noise you make when he does, and sucks them clean. Then, softly, he’s leaning down and kissing his way up your spine.

“Holy shit,” you breathe.

“You okay?”

“More than okay. You’re really good.”

“‘M not done yet, babe.”

He stands back up, but he pulls you along with him so you're no longer resting on the counter. Hands on your hips spin you to face him, and as soon as you do he surges forward to kiss you. It’s quick, like he’s making sure it’s still okay to keep going.

His touch trails up to the band of your bra—which is askew, but still on. “Can I take this off?”

You nod, but he waits for a verbal confirmation before unclasping it and pulling it away from your chest. It joins your shirt on the ground.

You’re suddenly very aware that you’re half-naked and he isn’t. You tug on his shirt, eager to even the score, “you too.”

“Well, it’s only fair, isn’t it?”

He peels his shirt over his head, and you realize that you’ve yet to see his tattoos so closely. You reach out, tracing them lightly with your fingertips. First, the bats that adorn his forearm, working your way up to his shoulder, then down his chest. He lets you, happy to have your hands on him.

While you’re occupied with his tattoos, he looks you over, free to stare without worrying if you’ll notice. His eyes travel across your face, the slope of your nose, the shape of your lips. They go down your neck, a canvas he plans to leave his mark on, and down to your chest that’s now bare.

The sight is enough to remind him of how hard he is, straining against his jeans. He kisses you again, heavier this time, and lets his hands cup your tits, squeezing and thumbing over your nipples. You moan into the kiss and he can’t control himself any longer.

He lifts you up to sit on the counter, close enough to the edge that you’re forced to wrap your legs around him.

“You still want this?” He asks.

Your hands go to his jeans, popping the button open and lowering his zipper slowly, “yeah, Eddie. I want this. I want you.”

I want you. Eddie doesn’t know why the words make his heart go all fluttery, why they make him look at you like you’ve put the stars in the sky just for him. He kisses you all over again.

You fit your hand between his jeans and his boxers, and you gasp into the kiss when you feel just how big he is. He’s wide, and you know the stretch of him will be a kind of burn that hurts so good. You stroke him over his boxers first, but quickly grow impatient to see him.

You tuck your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them and his jeans down enough to free him. You pull back only to be able to look at him properly, leaning your forehead against Eddie’s bare shoulder, your bottom lip bitten between your teeth because he’s pretty everywhere.

He kisses the side of your head, tender in the midst of the heat of it all.

You think, despite his initial distance, Eddie’s one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met. He shows it in the small things he does. Offering to take you home, the gentleness of his hands, his constant checking in on you to make sure this is what you wanted.

Yeah, you like him a whole lot.

Your hand wraps around his cock, jerking him slowly at first. A tease, he thinks. And then you pick up your pace just a bit and he thinks he might come before he even gets to be inside you and as much as he would love to see your hand covered in him, it’s not what he wants right now.

He’s never wanted anyone like he does you and he knows that information will have him overthinking later, but right now, it just makes him desperate to have you.

“Fuck,” he grabs a hold of your wrist, “as good as this feels, sweetheart, you gotta stop or I’ll come and this’ll be cut short. You don’t want that do you?”

He tips your chin up with his free hand, pecks your lips quickly before giving you the chance to respond.

“No. Want you to fuck me,” you say.

“Dirty girl.”

He reaches for a condom in one of your drawers when you tell him where to find them. When you bought them, you were almost embarrassed, because what were you expecting? Certainly not this.

He’s back on you before you really feel his absence, running his hands up your thighs, under your skirt, and tearing the hole he’d already made wider.

“You want me to stop, you tell me, okay?”

“Okay.”

Pushing your legs apart further to make room for him, he reaches down to paint himself up and down your slit, pushing himself in only when he’s teased the both of you sufficiently.

It’s a welcome stretch, one that’s better than anything you’ve ever felt in situations like this and you wonder why you didn’t move away sooner, if this is what it led to.

Eddie leans forward, resting his hands on the counter on either side of you, close enough that his arms brush against you. His face is close to yours but he doesn’t kiss you, no, he breathes the air you do, swallowing any sound you make.

His first couple of thrusts are tentative, slow, but when you wrap your arms around his neck and speak a quiet, ‘faster, please,’ he dives right in.

Somehow, he manages to know just what you need, and he wraps his arms around your waist to keep you still as he moves harder, quicker. Both of you are still half dressed, your clothes in disarray and his are pushed to his knees. You’re both so wrapped up in want and it shows.

“Fuck me,” you whine as he hits that spot inside you, like he’s done it a hundred times before.

“Thought that’s what I was doing, sweets.”

“Eddie.”

“I know, baby. You’re doing so good.”

He knows your orgasm is creeping up on you, he can feel it in the way you pulse around him, squeeze him tighter, bury your face in his neck so that your moans are pushed into his skin.

If he could, he thinks he’d get the sound of them permanently etched into his mind.

“Taking it so well. You wanna come, sweet girl?”

You nod against his skin, “yes. Yes, can I?”

He snakes a hand down to rub your clit, to push you over that edge and says, “let go. Give it to me.”

It’s like his words were what you were waiting for, the breaking point to let you finish. It’s enough to make your moans get caught in your throat and your eyes squeeze shut, seeing stars.

“Oh my god,” you choke out.

“That’s it,” he works you through it, and only when he’s sure that you’re on the comedown does he let himself finish, too.

He pulls your head from his neck with a hand cupping the back of yours, kissing you to really seal the deal, coming with a grunt into your mouth.

When he’s spent, he rests his forehead against yours, running his hands up and down your back soothingly, “you okay?”

“Mmm. Amazing,” you reply, dazed with a fucked out smile on your face. “Why’re you good at everything?”

He chuckles, kissing your cheek before pulling out, “maybe I’m just good at them with you.”

Discarding the condom and pulling his boxers back up—removing his jeans completely—he then finds a small towel and wets it in the sink. Meanwhile, you take off the rest of your outfit, figuring he’s seen enough already. He cleans you up first, delicate hands and a soft apology when you wince from the sensitivity.

He picks you up when he’s done, your legs wrapped around his waist and your head dropped against his shoulder. It feels natural, he thinks, to take care of you the way he would a lover. You feel like you belong there, in his hold, and he knows that you’ve changed him in a way.

His reluctance to get into any kind of relationship seems to have flown out the window now.

The door across the hall is the first he tries, and he guessed correctly when he finds your bedroom on the other side of the door.

He lays you down on your bed, and you pull the blankets up over yourself, lazily. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to look at Eddie the same way, but it’s not a bad thing. It’s not because of the sex, though it was notably the best you’ve ever had and you’ll undoubtedly think about it constantly. It’s because you have feelings for him. Real, true, romantic feelings that run far too deep for you to ignore.

He goes to leave, but you catch his wrist, “you can stay.”

“What?”

“I want you to stay with me. If you want to,” you say.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

He doesn't even hesitate, and he tries not to think about what that means for this thing he knows is blooming between you, its petals unfurling slow and steady. He slips into bed beside you, welcoming you when you snuggle into his side.

“Goodnight, Eddie.”

“Night, moon girl.”

You’re both fucked, literally and figuratively.

-

You wake up the most well-rested you’ve felt in a while. Flipping onto your back, you stretch out, and it’s only then that you feel the emptiness on the other side of the bed.

For a moment, you’d almost forgotten Eddie had been there in the first place. Then, you remembered you were, in fact, naked. The slight ache between your legs was enough to have last night coming back to you in a rush.

You wonder if maybe Eddie had to leave for work, but you don’t find a note or any indication of his departure. Instead, you hear the clanking of pans and plates coming from the kitchen.

You throw on a fresh pair of underwear and one of your oversized sleep shirts that sits at the top of your thighs. You’re still groggy, mind slower with sleep, but you’re awake enough to hear Eddie humming when you open your bedroom door and step out into the hall.

There he is, standing by your stove, cooking breakfast. You rub your eyes to make sure you’re not dreaming. Or seeing things.

He moves around like he’s been using your kitchen for ages, and his presence warms the space that you’ve had such a hard time getting used to. You recognize the song he’s humming to be the one he played on the guitar. The corners of your mouth lift up.

“Eddie?” You call quietly, careful not to startle him while his back is turned to you.

“Oh,” he faces you, frying pan in his hand, “morning, sweetheart.”

“Hi.”

“I’m making us breakfast, I hope that’s okay.”

Is he kidding? It’s the most okay thing anyone’s done for you in a long time and you don’t know whether you want to cry or kiss him. He’s unlike anyone you’ve known, and you can’t believe how different he is now compared to when you first met.

His guard was up, short responses and little emotion. It’s a stark contrast to now, to the way he stands clad only in his boxers and his shirt from the night before, flipping a pancake like it’s the easiest thing in the world. You don’t know how he could even keep the saccharine boy hidden, it seems to ooze out of him now.

“It’s- Eddie, this is really sweet.”

The tips of his ears go pink.

He doesn’t know what possessed him to cook for you, or why the sincerity in your appreciation makes him blush. All he knows is that he thought it would be nice to make you smile, and that there’s something in his chest that seems to expand when you do.

“I hope you like pancakes,” he says.

That morning is the moment you realize you’re falling in love with Eddie Munson.

-

It’s been weeks since that night, that morning. Somehow, rather than put distance between the two of you, you and Eddie have grown closer. You think he’s one of the best friends you’ve ever had, even though you haven’t known him very long.

You’re not falling in love with him anymore. No, you’re deep in it now.

Of course, Robin was able to draw it out of you, and after all of her assuring you that there’s absolutely no way Eddie doesn’t feel the same, you still can't let yourself believe her. You’ll bever come back from it if you find out he doesn’t when you’ve built up your expectations.

So, you keep them low. He’s your friend, that’s all it’ll ever be and you know it. Or, at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself every time you catch yourself getting a little too lost in him.

You’re meant to be meeting the gang at the tattoo shop and then head somewhere for drinks all together. Because you’re not only close with Eddie now, you’ve found yourself friends that are real and true. Sometimes you find yourself wondering what your life would’ve been like had you been in high school alongside them. You think it would have been much, much better, but you have them now and that’s what matters.

You knock on the door when you get there, the shop already closed and locked up. You’re quickly greeted with Robin’s grinning face on the other side of the glass. She lets you in and wraps you in a brief hug.

“I think you should start working here just so I don’t have to miss you at all in between plans,” she says, stepping back and locking the door again.

“We both know I don’t have the skills for that, but I missed you, too, Robin.”

“Not as much as you missed me, I hope,” is how Eddie chooses to announce his presence.

“Hi, Eddie.”

“Hi, sweetheart.”

Robin scoffs at him, “can you not steal my thunder for once, please.”

“I’m not allowed to say hi to my friend?”

He looks at you when he says friend, like he’s sharing a secret. Only, you have no idea what it might be.

“Whatever. I have to go get Nance since she went home to change,” she gathers her stuff from the desk. Then, she points to you and says, “I better get a very detailed life update later.”

“You know you will,” you say.

“‘Kay, see you soon!”

She leaves after that, and Eddie’s gaze is already fixed on you when you turn towards him.

“C’mere,” he nods towards the doors that lead to the back room, where the station he tattooed you at is all set up.

“What’s this?”

“I want you to give me a tattoo.”

Your eyes widen, “sorry?”

“I’m serious. Doesn’t have to be big, it can be a dot if you want,” he gently nudges your chin with his finger, closing your mouth where it was dropped in surprise. “I wanna teach you.”

Your friendship isn’t the only thing that’s grown since that night. Eddie’s become more touchy with you, too. An arm slung over your shoulders, a hand on your thigh or the nape of your neck. Though this touch is small, it doesn’t fail to leave a lasting effect where it was placed, a warmth, like a drop of sunlight. It almost distracts you from what he’s asking.

“Eddie, I can’t. I’ll mess it up.”

“Babe, I’ve got loads of tattoos. Trust me, it’ll be fine,” he moves his hand to your shoulder, gives it a squeeze. “Plus, you’ve got a great teacher.”

It takes a bit longer for him to convince you, but he succeeds in the end. It’s hard to say no to someone you’re in love with, especially if that someone has really good puppy dog eyes.

Before you really even process it, he’s on the tattoo bed, a pant leg rolled up, shaving a small patch for you to use as your canvas. He does all of the prepping necessary, and even goes as far as to put the gloves on for you.

He explains it all slowly, repeats whatever you ask him to, and promises to guide you through it all. You’re incredibly nervous—who wouldn’t be?

“Relax. You’re gonna be a natural, I know it.”

“How do you know that?”

“You’ve got good hands, sweetheart,” he drops one of his eyelids in a wink.

The flirting is something else that’s become more frequent. You think he’s flirting, that is. He doesn’t act the same way with the rest of the group and you know that, but you also need to not get your hopes up. Still, the butterflies come alive.

You draw your stencil, settling on a very simple rendition of the sun. A small circle with short lines as its rays. It’s fitting for him, you think. As much as he seems like midnight on the outside, that boy is dripping in sunshine.

It also goes with the one he gave you, but that’s just a bonus.

Once it’s applied and you’re sat on the stool, in position to begin, he explains it all over again. He knows you’re nervous, but he isn’t at all. He’s excited to have you do this, to wear a piece of you on his skin.

His hand wraps around yours on the tattoo gun for the first line, guiding you so that you can get the feel of it. He lets you take over after that, assuring you that there’s nothing you could mess up enough to have him dislike it, as long as you’re the one doing it.

As he watches you work, your tongue poking out between your lips in focus, he feels his chest swell. He’s never liked anyone the way he does you, and he’s never let someone untrained tattoo him, that’s for sure. There’s something in him that seems to brighten when you’re around, and he doesn’t know how to put it into words.

He wishes he could pluck the moon out of the sky and hold it in his hand, only to be able to give it to you. Since he can’t do that, he hopes his heart will do good enough. He loves you, that he knows, he just can’t bring himself to say the words out loud.

He’s warmed up to you quicker than ever, so much so that the people around him have noticed. That means something and he knows it.

“I think I’m done,” you say after a bit.

“Yeah? Let’s see this work of art then.”

He sits up, bends closer to his leg to get a look at your handiwork. He’s silent at first and it makes you nervous.

“What do you think?”

“It’s perfect,” he says.

You know it’s far from perfect. The lines aren’t even, nor are they all straight. But he says it like he means it, believes it, so you let yourself smile at that.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m super sure.”

He wouldn’t have ever picked out the sun for himself, but knowing that you would has his walls crumbling even more—if that’s even possible with you.

He does the cleaning and the wrapping, and you’re happy to observe. Just as he’s finishing up, Robin and Nancy walk in, Steve not far behind.

“I leave you guys for not even an hour, and now you have a tattoo?” Robin says, though she doesn’t even sound surprised.

-

Eddie thinks his feelings swell and grow every single time he sees you, and he thinks they might just boil over and pour out of him before he even gets to figure out what to say. That won’t do. You deserve more than that.

You deserve to be taken on a date, to be appreciated and taken care of properly, and that’s what he needs to do. The only problem is, he has no idea how to go about it all.

There’s only one person he can think of who will know exactly what to do. The expert in dating; Steve. Eddie calls him into his office.

“What’s up, boss?” Steve says, leaning against the doorway the way he always does.

“Close the door, would you?”

“Shit. Am I in trouble? I may have spilled some ink the other day but you can barely even see it, swears.”

Eddie shakes his head, making note to take a look around his station later. He’s used to Steve’s clumsiness, though, it’s part of the reason he wanted dark floors in the shop.

“No. That’s not- I need your help.”

“Oh. Okay, hit me.”

“I want to ask her out. I just don’t really know, um, where to take her or whatever.”

Eddie doesn’t even have to say your name for Steve to know who he’s talking about. He’s painfully aware that he’s been quite obvious with his affections, especially ever since the night you had sex. He’s always itching to have his hands on you in some way, stealing you away from other conversations, all of it.

That night was like a wake up call for him, a bucket of cold water dumped over his head. He knew there was something about you before that, but it became concrete.

He’d never felt so connected to someone, nor had he been so eager to take care of them afterwards. Hell, he’s never even slept in the same bed as his hookups. He can count on one hand the number of times he’s slept over at all. Then, there was you, asking him to stay and he couldn’t say no to you. He didn’t want to, either.

“You know her better than I do, man. But, flowers, you gotta do. They love that. Do you know her favorites?”

Eddie shakes his head.

“That’s fine. Get a good mix. Other than that, you should just be honest, that’s what Robin always tells me,” he shrugs. “Why don’t you just call her now?”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Come on! She’s gonna say yes. She gives you those lovey-dovey eyes all the time.”

“Okay, that’s enough. Out.”

“Not even a thank you?”

“Thanks, Steve. Bye.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he leaves Eddie’s office, shutting the door behind him again. He, along with Nancy and Robin, knows that you and Eddie will end up together, it’s obvious to everyone except you two, they only want to help it along.

Eddie really hopes that their pestering will be worth it in the end. That you’ll feel the same.

He stares at the phone sitting on his desk for what feels like ages before he musters up the courage to actually call you. He had your file open on his desk, your number written out on one of the forms. He finally picks up the phone and dials it.

Luckily, you weren’t at work. You’d been thinking of Eddie more and more each day it seemed. How he looked at you, the secret smiles that he saved just for you, the way he touched you, the way he felt-

The phone ringing cuts off your train of thought. You walk over and pick it up, prepared for it to be Robin or Nancy since they’re the only ones that ever call you besides your boss. The voice on the other line is neither of them.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart. It’s Eddie.”

As close as you’ve gotten, for some reason, no phone numbers have been exchanged. You wish they had been, because hearing his voice crackle through the phone is a much nicer sound than most.

���Eddie, hi. How’d you get my number?”

He twists one of his rings around with his thumb. He’s glad you can’t actually see him, because you’d surely be able to tell that he’s nervous.

“It’s on file in the shop. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I like talking to you,” you say, soft and sincere. “What’s up?”

“I, uh,” he shakes his head, trying to figure out exactly what to say. “Are you busy tonight?”

“No, I’m not. Do you guys want to do something?”

“Not exactly,” he says.

Your heart beats quicker in your chest, because you think he’s about to ask you out, maybe. If not that, then at least ask you to do something with just him, which is close enough for you to consider it a win. You smile like an idiot.

He clears his throat and continues, “I wanted to know if you’d want to go out… with me.”

It’s happening, you think. Something is shifting as you speak, the feelings you’ve tried to suppress for so long are itching to come out.

“Like a date?” You ask. Just to be sure.

“Yeah, moon girl. Like a date.”

“I’d really, really like that, Eddie.”

He thinks you can probably hear the smile in his voice when he says, “yeah? Me too.”

He tells you he’ll pick you up, to wear whatever you like, not to worry about being over or underdressed, ‘you’ll look pretty either way, trust me,’ he’d said.

When you hang up, you’re trying not to jump around and squeal like a thirteen year old. It’s difficult to contain your excitement, your nerves, your hope. It feels as if a door is opening. A door to more nights like that night, more mornings with shared breakfast, more kissing, more than friends. More, more, more.

Meanwhile, Eddie’s wondering how he’ll get through the rest of the work day when his head is filled with the promise of seeing you.

-

After much debating on what to wear, no thanks to Eddie’s sweet yet vague instructions, the buzzer sounds in your apartment. You make your way over, one shoe on, the other in your hand. You press the button and speak.

“Hello?”

“Hey, moon girl.”

“Eddie,” he only said three words and you’re already smiling. “Come on up.”

You rush to get your other shoe on, luckily finishing up just as he knocks on your door. There’s a moment where you’re almost expecting someone else to be on the other side, to have been dreaming the whole date up. Luckily, it’s real.

Eddie stands in the hall, pretty as ever. His hair is in its usual mess of waves and curls, his classic leather jacket and denim vest duo are on, and in his hand, a bouquet of flowers.

He notices you looking at them and holds them out, “these are for you.”

“This is really nice, Eddie. Thank you.”

You take them from him, holding them up to your nose to smell them (and also to hide how wide your grin is). He stands by the door, a ball of nerves, and watches you put them into a big cup, because you never had a reason to buy a vase until now. He decides next time, he’ll deliver the flowers in a vase just so you have one.

He holds your hand on the way down, opens the car door for you and makes sure your legs are tucked inside before closing it, he tells you in at least three different ways how beautiful you look during the car ride alone, and he drives with a hand resting on your thigh, your fingers toying with his rings.

He’s an absolute dream.

He takes you to a small restaurant, fancy enough for a date—though you think being with Eddie, no matter where, would be enough for you—but casual enough that you aren’t too worried about the people around you being judgemental. You sit in a booth and instead of across, Eddie sits beside you. He keeps a hand on your thigh during your meal, too.

In his car once more, you’re sitting in the parking lot with music playing through the speakers. Eddie hasn’t made a move to start driving you yet, and you haven’t even thought about going home. You haven’t ever been on an official date before, but if you had, you’d say with absolute certainty that this is the best one.

You sit sideways in the passenger seat so you can look at him, and Eddie’s head is turned toward you, his cheek against the headrest.

“Have you had a girlfriend before?” You ask.

You don’t know why the thought comes out of your mouth. You’d been thinking it, though. Robin’s always hinting at how different he is with you, at the fact that Eddie’s never brought a girl he’s liked around his friends. You’re curious.

“No, I haven’t. Why do you seem surprised?”

“It’s just, you’re really good at this.”

“At what, sweetheart?”

“Like, going on a date. And… other stuff, too.”

He shifts in his seat, resting an elbow on the center console and leaning closer to you. Much, much closer. Your noses are almost touching and you can see the way his eyelashes frame his eyes.

He nudges his nose against yours, “what stuff?”

You know he’s teasing you, trying to make you give him more detail because it’ll make you go all shy or embarrassed. To him, it’s cute, and he’s been trying not to kiss you all night. He was going to wait until he dropped you off like a proper gentleman, but he figures making it through dinner is good enough.

“Eddie,” you draw his name out, almost whining.

“Tell me. Come on, please? You can’t just bring it up and not share.”

The hand of his that isn’t resting between you comes up to push your hair over your shoulder, then slides around to hold the back of your neck loosely.

“God, okay. Um, you’re a good kisser. Like, really good,” he leans in and pecks you for that, pulling away just enough to let you keep talking, your lips still brushing against his. “And, I love your hands.”

“My hands?”

“They’re very talented. You know, ‘cause you’re an artist, and all.”

He huffs and shakes his head. Enough of the teasing, he leans in and kisses you deeper this time. Your hands move and grip the sides of his jacket, holding him close to you.

You kiss, and kiss, and kiss, and it’s enough to have you panting and warm all over. His hand squeezes your neck gently before he pulls away, his lips slick with spit, swollen and darker from your kiss. You’re sure yours don’t look much different.

Eddie drops his forehead against yours, takes both of your hands in his, “do you want to go home?”

You shake your head.

“Can I show you my place, then?”

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

He’s not saying it to get you in his bed, though there’s no doubt that would be a bonus, but he doesn’t want this date to end. There’s also a part of him that wants to see you in his apartment, let you into more of his life.

He’s only ever been to yours, and he doesn’t have the whole group over at his, so you’ve never seen it. He thinks, if he’s really going to give this a shot, he might as well let another wall crumble down for you.

The drive there is fairly quick, and yet again, his hand finds your thigh. This time, though, he lets his fingers hold on, rather than just rest in your lap. You like it a lot.

-

Eddie’s apartment isn’t what you expect. You thought it’d be decorated like the shop: dark colors, black and white art, hints of red. His place is much warmer, much homier. It suits him perfectly.

He has a huge record collection, a whole wall of his living room dedicated to the shelves and the player itself. He also has a shelf for his books. Some more worn than others, letting you know which are his favorites of the bunch.

You trail your fingers along the spines, admiring his collection. He lets you, standing not too far away, enjoying how you look in his space.

His bathroom is much like yours, small and plain, but it’s tidy save for some products of his strewn about the counter. His bedroom is so obviously his that it makes you smile. From the rings and other jewelry sitting atop his dresser, to his dark gray bedding, to the guitars that are displayed proudly, to the desk pushed into a corner with pages upon pages spread about.

You gravitate towards that desk without a second thought.

There’s something so intimate about seeing his art station in his home, much different to his office at the shop. Here, he can let it be a mess, and can draw whatever he pleases.

“Is it okay if I look at these?” You ask.

“‘Course,” he says. He walks up behind you, lets his hands hold your sides loosely and rests his chin on your shoulder. You revel in the warmth of his chest against your back.

You pick up some of the loose pages, looking at the different pieces. Skulls and flowers and landscapes and so much more. He can do it all, you think. You can see so much detail, the strokes of his pencil, and it’s clear how much talent he has.

“These are all beautiful, Eddie.”

He turns his head to peck your cheek, “thank you, sweetheart.”

You reach for a worn sketchbook next, the cover peeling at the edges and the pages nearly full. It flips open to where it seems to have been used the most, the spine broken. What you see makes you gasp quietly, but Eddie’s close enough to hear it.

Covering the pages are drawings of the moon. Over and over again he drew them. Some are big, taking up an entire page, and some are scrawled into corners and empty spaces, like he couldn’t stop adding them. All of these drawings for your tattoo, and he’d only shown you a few.

“It’s weird, right?” Eddie says, hiding his face in your neck.

If he’s honest, he forgot that sketchbook was even there. He couldn’t forget about the drawings you found—you’d taken up so much of his thoughts after meeting that he couldn’t stop drawing the fucking moon for you. There are so many and he’s embarrassed by it, because he really was screwed after the first day even when he refused to see it.

“No, it’s- these are all for me?”

“Couldn’t stop thinking ‘bout you, so I drew these,” he speaks into your skin. “I was trying to avoid my feelings for you, but clearly, that didn’t work. You wouldn’t get out of my head and I had no idea why.”

You turn in his hold, leaving the sketchbook open on his desk. You look at him, the way his cheeks are pink at your finding of his drawings, the way his eyes flick between yours.

“I love them. Every single one,” I love you. “I thought about you a lot, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. So much. You made me nervous at first,” you admit, your hands fiddling with the collar of his shirt.

“I’m not used to, um, opening up to people and all. I’ve never even been in a relationship,” his hands come up and grab yours, like he needs the comfort. “You make me want to try, though.”

You have to say it. There’s no way you can’t, not when he’s looking at you with those eyes filled with something.

“I love you, Eddie,” his eyes widen, he freezes. “You don’t have to say it back or anything, I just really needed to tell you. You’re the first sense of comfort I’ve found since I moved, and I don’t think I would have felt at home without you and I love you.”

No matter how scared he is to be with you, because he wants to be someone worth being with and he doesn’t know what he’s doing, he can’t ignore the fact that he loves you right back. And he hasn’t said those words to many people in his life.

It’s big for him, so big that he’s stumbling over his words but he tries anyway.

“Oh my god,” he kisses your knuckles, “I love you, sweetheart. My moon girl, fuck, I love you, too. I’ve never done this before, but there’s nobody else I’d want. Nobody.”

You feel so many things at once. Relief and happiness and a thousand fireworks in your gut and in your heart. You grab his face with your hands and drag him down to kiss you.

It’s broken by your smiles, your teeth bumping into each other but neither of you care one bit. He holds your wrists gently, returns your kiss with ease. He’s delicate with his touch, so, so perfect with his lips on yours.

He only pulls away to ask, “will you be mine? Be my girlfriend?”

You nod vehemently, “been yours since you kissed me the first time. Probably even before that.”

You’re not worried about the ‘told you so’s you’re sure to get from your friends, or what happens next because you know whatever it is, Eddie’s gonna be there.

“Think you had me the minute you started talking ‘bout the moon.” He just didn’t know it yet.

༄

if you enjoyed, please leave a reblog or let me know what you thought! it helps loads more than you think <3

[sabrondabrainrot]

Bring back LAES!

I'm steadily making progress on catching up on sun and moon show along with foxy and monty etc etc but it's pretty difficult when one of the main key plot lines is gone. I know a few spoilers thanks to fanfiction but I want to see the drama in person.

Here's some outfit ideas for tsams cause I'm a sucker for fashion and redesigns!

Order is, SolarFlare - Lunar - NewMoon - Old Moon - Sunny (Solar's dimension) - Sun

closeups and more brainrot under the cut!

Explaining my redesigns! Lunar - he's not really a redesign and more so an overdesign. I love adding tons of little details to him to really hammer home his star-ness. He's such an interesting little guy, like yes he acts childish but I can see he's really growing (SAD I CANT WATCH MORE CAUSE THE SHOW IS GONE). I saw the ep he killed Eclipse and homeboy revived. The entire time I was like "Waaahh Lunar??? Waaahhh???" but I love the drama ngl.

SolarFlare - Same as Lunar, not really a redesign I just drew him with no dirt. I really love his base design it's so neat it makes me think of like sci-fi concepts from the 80's. Something from fallout really. I think it's kind of funny Eclipse's aesthetics for SolarFlare when you compare him next to say Jack who Solar designed.

OldMoon - I just wanted to give him a sleek mad scientist cool guy suave vibe. I saw the more recent thumbnails of him with a turtle neck and idk that's just peak character design for me. I'm a simple woman put the dumb-dumb in a dark turtleneck. I want him to kind of look like the BadGuy TM (he's not actually) so he gets all edgy and hard edges and stuff.

NewMoon - I wanted to do a similar color scheme but instead he has lighter colors like more white incorporated into his fit. To give him the whole 'reborn' aesthetic. He's all like "old moon wore black well I wear white now I'm nothing like him so hah!" kinda thinking. I gave his cap a fur texture cause of that one ep he turned into a furry. I drew rounder stuff on him cause he's a big ol' softy sweety pie.

Sunny - Sunny is my headcanon of Sun from Solar's dimension. I think it's really interesting his default with no personality was theater performance and not say...doing daycare stuff? I feel like honoring the FNAF books with this design by leaning heavily into the theater performer look. I like to think in Solar's dimension Sun and Moon were originally made for theater. (so far in the show I've noticed Creator says 'they needed a daycare attendant' something like that so it comes off more like they were intended for the daycare from the start VS. Solar's dimension where Sunny's core seems to be more so for the performing arts.) I also wanted to make Sunny look different from Sun for the extra angst potential of "They're similar but not the same" so I leaned more into a blue palette for him.

Sun - I just wanted to give him big puffy everything. I took away the tutu. nothing against the tutu I just hate drawing the damn thing. I like to think Sun in main has white eyes because he's so burnt out from within. *badum tish* (eyes are the window to the soul-) I also covered him in stickers because he totally would just be covered in stickers from the kids. I also decided to give some of his rays cracks because I think he's extremely sentimental and even in a newly upgraded body (after using star power to defeat Eclipse the first time) he'd keep rays from his original body? I also put the cracks ones on the side of his face where Old Moon hit him. Why? Because it just seems like something Sun would do. I love him so.

Ok just some brainrot stuff, look away to avoid spoilers .

RUIN DESTROYED HOW MANY DIMENSIONS?? SOLARS DEAD. LUNAR KILLED ECLIPSE. DARK SUN IS PLOTTING??? MOON BE CRYING??? Also Francine just had a birthday! ONE OF THE BLOODMOON BOYS ARE DEAD AND SAME WITH ONE OF THE STITCHY BOYS??? HELLO?!?

I love the drama.

Also, I love how every single kid vibe checks Sun and he passes every time. Francine? She loves Sun and learns from him. FC? He ONLY feels safe with Sun for a bit. Barry? He hugged Sun after gonad checking him (a right of passage for the bunny kid). Jack? I'm pretty sure he literally is just one room away from Sun at all times (he also calls Sun's cats his master???). I have yet to see Dazzle, but Dazzle 10000% loves Sun (I've seen the edits).

ALSO? When Lunar was first brought into the family the first person he hugged was Sun and then later on when Earth was in danger he ran into SUN's arms for safety/comfort. They're family your honor.

Sobbing and Crying laying on the floor over Solar's death but I think he'll be back.

Also the molten thing with Ruin? I'm excited to see more.

I don't have a youtube account to post about saving LAES but if anyone wants me to draw more LAES just to help the community please let me know. I'm planning to draw my idea of Earth next.

[star-girl69]

Music To Watch Girls To

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

sypnosis: is it wrong to be obsessed with clarisse? obviously not!!

a/n: i cant just write a drabble what is wrong w me it’s always gotta be a full fledged fic damn anyways i don’t like this one that much so don’t crucify me, but i hope you all enjoy!!

Music To Watch Boys To - Lana Del Rey

warnings: FRIENDS TO LOVERS GOOD LORD, all clarisse know is be mean to her friends, like girls, and lie, reader is a little insane this time…., it’s not watching clarisse train bc i got struck with inspo but you all will like it dw, there’s still muscles and watching clarisse fight, swearing, violence, mentions of weapons, reader is an honorary ares cabin member bc i think it’s cute and i do what i want, y/n gets hurt like 20 times ITS FOR THE PLOT OK, kissing!!!!, like angst for half a sec not rly tho, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

The only word you think of when you think of Clarisse is fuck.

It describes your feelings about her so accurately. The first time you saw her, you knew you had to have this girl. And the first time you heard her talk, she was calling some Hephaestus kid a dumbass for not fixing a dent in her armor correctly.

She was an asshole, a bully, whatever, and she was also the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. But, thank the Gods you became close friends with her brother Matty, and then Carrie, and then you practically knew everyone in the Ares cabin like your own siblings.

Even just friendship with Ares kids is an intense rollercoaster.

They admired your for your deadly skill with a bow, a few of them even openly claiming you were probably the best at camp. They were loyal and fierce, protective, funny and everything you could want in a replacement family. Your mortal parent went down a dark road after your godly parent went back to Olympus, and you had never felt that love that everyone craved.

Clarisse hated you at first, like she does everyone, until one day at the bonfire you were sitting with her and a few of her siblings, the fire was hot and it was never the same. You still remember her eyes on you, feeling intoxicated under the moon. Besides, the nights are made for secrets.

And it became a tradition.

You would look at each other next to the fire, and never speak of it again.

The rest of the time, she was like any friend. That same loyalty, focus, but sometimes you could swear she seemed to look a little longer.

After the arrival of Percy Jackson, Clarisse was especially on edge. She was supposed to be training, but she was instead sulking and ranting to Matty and Carrie.

“And he really thinks he killed that Minotaur? Doesn’t matter. That’s what everyone else thinks.”

“Talking about the new kid?” you ask, sitting on top of the picnic table next to their cabin.

“Oh, yeah,” Carrie mumbles. “Talking all about the new kid.”

Clarisse stops her angry pacing to send her a harsh glare.

“He’s just a baby, Clarisse.”

She slams her hand down on the table next to you, pointing her finger in your face.

“He’s a liar,” she hisses. “I’m gonna make him admit it.”

“Hm, okay,” you say, pressing her foot against her stomach and pushing her back. “And that’s totally logical. But have you considered that he actually killed the Minotaur?”

“I’ll punch you.”

“Oh, you love me, Clarisse,” you smile, sweeping your arms out in a big circle. “I’m the brightest part of your day.”

She glares at you.

Matty coughs to hide a laugh.

“Just ignore him!” you say. “I don’t get why you’re so obsessed over him anyways.”

“I’m not explaining myself to you,” she huffs, stubborn as ever.

“Okay, Clarisse,” you say, drawing out the words.

You miss Carrie and Matty shooting each other looks.

—-

Chiron announces the next capture the flag game later that day, and the next morning you’re heading off to the Ares cabin with your bow and armor in tow.

You walk in. They’re all adjusting their armor, polishing their weapons. A few smile at you and wave, but you head straight towards the back. Clarisse is there, helping some of her younger siblings pick out weapons from the secret weapons stash the Ares kids have curated over the years.

It’s Danny’s first game. He’s only twelve.

She looks up at you for a moment, which is about as much acknowledgment as you’re gonna get. You sit at the end of someone’s empty bed, right next to Danny.

“How you feelin’?” you ask. His face is twisted into a stone cold mask.

“Excited,” he says, like he practiced it in the mirror.

“Well, I’m scared.”

He looks at you and frowns.

“You’re the best archer in camp. Matty says so.”

You shrug. “I may be the best archer, but I’m nowhere near the best fighter.”

He nods, thinking hard like the whole world is suddenly starting to make sense.

“Hey, if I promise to keep a look out for you from the trees- will you watch out for me on the ground?”

He doesn’t need your assurance. He’s a child of Ares, they’re prebuilt with the lust for battle. But you know how to play all of them like a fiddle. They like feeling important, and he’s only twelve. It doesn’t hurt you to give this to him.

You stick out your hand and he grabs it.

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

“Y/N,” Clarisse says. You realize she’s been standing there for a while. “Are you here to distract everyone or for a reason?”

“You know, I would welcome you into my cabin warmly.”

Her face remains stone cold. Danny runs off. Clarisse can be some sort of halfway nice, but rarely, and most of the time everyone just knows her cruel words, her ruthless tactics in battle, and her misleading words and smiles.

“You’re no fun,” you pout.

“You’re the one who sticks around. No one’s holding you hostage- you can leave.”

“I need a dagger.”

“Oh,” she says, blinking. “Wow, you actually came here for something? What happened to yours?”

“Broke,” you shrug. “The handle fell off. Weird, whatever.”

She hums, looking through the daggers hung on the wall. “This one.”

She hands it to you. It’s similar to your old dagger, except a lot sharper and a lot more sturdy. But it’s the same style you’re used to. You wonder if she knows that or not- Ares kids do notice everything.

But for Clarisse to actually do something like that with intention is rare.

“I like it,” you say. “Thanks!”

She hesitates for a second.

“Keep it.”

You look at her. “I can give it back.”

“I already told you to keep it. Don’t be pathetic and make me reassure you.”

“Okay, Clarisse,” you roll your eyes.

—-

Your position on capture the flag is always the same.

Carrie, Matty and Clarisse hunt in the woods on the ground, and you get thrown up into some random tree to shoot arrows at anyone you see.

The idea is, they see the arrow coming from up above and look to the trees, only for Clarisse, Matty and Carrie to ambush them on the ground.

It’s only the third game you’ve employed this tactic, so the blue team is starting to catch on.

After Chiron gives his speech you could probably say yourself, you head over to the three of them, holding your arm out to Matty and the red bandana. He ties it around without saying a word, Carrie reaches over and scolds you for not tying your armor tight enough.

“Blah, blah, blah,” you say. “I’ll live.”

“Yeah,” Carrie snorts. “Because I fixed it.”

“Shush,” Clarisse hisses. She finishes talking to a few more of her siblings, and they take their companies off into the woods. She turns back around. “I have a different plan today.”

Carrie and Matty grin dangerously.

There’s something in between the three of them, some sort of matching glint in their eyes.

“Okay, did I miss something? Why are you guys being so… scary?”

“You’ll see,” Clarisse says, her eyes dark.

Gods, it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

—-

The great thing about being up in the trees is you get to see everything.

You get to see the way Clarisse grins while she fights, the way she whips her spear around like it weights nothing, the way sweat forms at her brow- and the way her muscles flex. That’s the best part.

Her arms, her legs, her stomach, every part of Clarisse is just lean and toned muscle.

It makes you want to betray yourself in a way that would permanently embarrass you.

You follow them, of course, even though you have no idea what the hell is happening or what the plan is. There’s a reason she’s not telling you the plan. Why?

When you walk past the woods where you normally hunt, you start getting fidgety.

“Ok, guys, seriously. Tell me what’s going on.”

You realize you’re heading towards the side of the big hill, starting the climb up through the trees and rocks.

Clarisse turns around.

“Stop. Worrying.”

You grit your teeth. “I’m not worried. I’m just confused.”

She sighs, signaling to Carrie and Matty.

“You know,” she mutters. And they leave, so it’s just the two of you.

They spit up, making their way on the farthest two ends, all leading to the same ledge.

She grabs your wrists. “Stop cracking your fingers. It’s annoying, and you’ll hurt ‘em.”

“Then tell me what’s going on.”

She lets go of one of your wrists, but keeps her tight grip on the other, forcing you to keep pace behind her.

“I’m not gonna tell you again, Y/N. Don’t worry. I’m not going to put you in danger, obviously.” She laughs, as if the idea is ridiculous. “You’re a damn good archer.”

“Oh, my Gods. Did you just compliment me?”

She tenses up, finally realizing she did it.

“D-don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, I won’t. It will just be our little secret, won’t it?”

You bite your lip as you smile so you don’t burst out laughing.

“Sure,” she mutters, and you don’t miss the way she stares at your lips. She clears her throat, finally letting go of your wrist. “Percy Jackson-”

“Who’s a baby.”

“-attacked us last night.”

You raise an eyebrow, walking next to her. “Did you attack him first?”

She doesn’t answer that.

“I doubted you would join us. I just didn’t want you to be alone in the woods.”

“Why?”

“Hm, I saw Annabeth as we left the bathrooms. She knows, she knows we’re gonna get revenge so Luke’s gonna go straight for the flag because we’re not in the woods.”

“So you’re just sacrificing the entire game for revenge? Against a 12-year-old?”

“Revenge,” she mutters, thinking over it. “That’s a fun word.”

She smiles, looking at you.

“Oh, Gods,” you mutter.

—-

The rest of the walk continues in silence, until you can see Carrie and Matty in the distance, both waiting for Clarisse’s signal. She grins.

“Now, why don’t you just stay behind me and draw an arrow, and tell me if anyone’s coming. And when he’s distracted, you’ll sneak around behind him and block him from escaping, hm?”

You look around the forest. “Okay. But, Clarisse-”

She smacks her hand over your face. “I don’t need your morality right now. I just need you to keep those pretty eyes open and be our lookout.”

“Fine,” you hiss as you throw your hand off her mouth.

“Thank you,” she smiles, sarcastically. “Was that so hard?”

You mock her under your breath, but she signals to Carrie and Matty. They all start walking forward, trying for stealth, but your feet make sink into the gravel. He hears them. He sits up.

You don’t know anything about Percy Jackson, except for the fact he supposedly attacked the three musketeers you call your friends and possibly killed a Minotaur.

True to your word, you stay behind Clarisse, watching as she lifts her helmet off, throwing it to the ground.

Her spear sinks into the dirt.

“Flag’s that way,” Percy says. “It’s not here.”

“We know.”

You start walking out from behind her. His eyes flick between all four of you.

“Yeah, glory’s fine.” You can feel her eyes on you. “Revenge is more fun.”

She looks up at her spear, slamming it down, and you hear the familiar crackle as it lights up. Red hot electricity.

She laughs a bit.

He scrambles for his sword and spear, forgoing his helmet. They close him in. You walk around Carrie and behind him. His eyes move between you and Clarisse, but there’s nothing he can do to stop the four of you from surrounding him.

“No maiming. It’s like the one rule.”

His stance isn’t even close to correct.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll lose dessert privileges for a while,” she fake frets, looking up at her spear. She smiles and looks back at him. “I’ll live.”

Her face twists into a mask of focus and she swings out at him. He manages to dodge her first hit, and block the second with his shield.

She looks at Carrie and Matty. They lunge forward, attacking him together, and he certainly is a demigod- he has a natural talent.

But you can only really focus on the way she lifts her spear back over her head.

She grunts and spins, shocking him, before jabbing forward at his armor, making him fall back over the log he used to be laying on, right at your feet.

“I’m actually not interested in maiming or killing you, believe it or not,” she says, standing over him. “I just want you to admit you’re a fraud. It’d make me feel better. Are you feeling up to that yet?”

The way she holds her spear, the way she says it’ll make her feel better- you miss the way he swings out with his shield, hitting you in the shins.

“Fuck,” you hiss, leaning down to touch your burning leg. “Oh, fuck, that hurt.”

Percy grunts and takes off running.

“Y/N,” Matty says, a silent question in his concerned voice.

“I’m fine,” you mumble, shaking your leg out.

Clarisse glares at his retreating figure.

“I guess he has a fucking death wish,” she whispers, voice full of a deadly promise.

She grunts and launches herself over the log, Carrie and Matty following. You straighten yourself and take off running after them. You leg does burn, but you still manage to keep pace. Besides, Matty is already far ahead, surprising him and knocking him down from the path, making him tumble through the woods and land on the beach.

Matty and Carrie wave their swords at him from the right. He pants and breathes heavily, backing up, but when he turns around to run- Clarisse is there.

You draw your bow again, out of habit.

The arrows you use aren’t actual arrows of course, but filed down to little circle rocks at the end. They won’t kill you, but they fucking hurt.

You can’t help but giggle as he falls onto his back, scared just by Clarisse being there.

She laughs too, before all three of them launch into an attack.

They push him back, towards you, and you step back with them, waiting for the perfect moment.

But your eyes drift up to Clarisse. She’s hanging back for just a second while Matty and Carrie jab at him. She looks… proud. She looks really fucking proud that you’re laughing at this 12-year-olds misery.

But Clarisse was right. Revenge is fun. And you hate it, but you can’t stop it.

You smile back at her, and it’s like those nights at the bonfire, you know you’ll never speak of it again. It doesn’t matter. Right now, there’s angelic music playing in your head, and you’re watching her. You’re watching her, the sweat on her brow, the way her hands clasp her spear.

Her face twists into something else.

“Y/N!” she shouts, but Carrie and Matty pushed him too far, you didn’t move back enough- distracted by her- and you slam into each other, a tangle of limbs and metal.

He does this awkward sort of flip over you, landing a few feet behind you. You drop your bow in favor of catching yourself, and it gets caught on his shield and dragged along with him.

It’s a blur, you yelp as you go down, Percy groans.

They’re all standing there, tense and watching the way Percy stands up with your bow in his hands. His stance is nowhere near correct, it actually makes you cringe more than your bruised side after the fall.

Why the hell are you the one who keeps getting hurt?

Percy let’s out a breath. “Why don’t we all just walk away and forget this happened?”

“You just made that impossible,” Clarisse hisses.

You just want to get an ice pack on your leg and sit down. You’re tired. You want to boss Clarisse around as payment for bringing you here.

“Okay, okay, just stop. This is stupid, all of you. He’s, like, 12. He didn’t do it on purpose, you’re just attacking him for no reason.” Carrie and Matty look at the ground. Clarisse glares at you.

You turn around and face Percy. “Just go, okay.”

He looks between you and Clarisse.

“O-okay,” he breathes.

You can feel her move, hear her footsteps in the sand, her spear cutting through the wind. She comes around you, and Percy gets scared, so he raises up the bow and let’s it go- pointed straight at her face.

But it never hits her. It hits you, of course, because you have the worst luck in the world.

It hits you right in the chest, and it doesn’t kill you, but Percy is strong and it knocks the wind out of you.

Clarisse throws her spear to the ground and catches you, screaming your name at the top of her lungs.

Gods, this was so stupid. All of it. He didn’t mean to hurt you, he meant to stop her from attacking him. Because Clarisse is bloodthirsty. She cares about no one else but herself.

You were stupid to think she ever did.

But even through all of this, everyone treating you like a rag doll, you stare into Clarisse’s eyes. She’s frozen. She’s watching the rapid rise and fall of your chest, she’s watching the way you press your hand into your chest, trying to breathe, she’s looking at the fear in your eyes.

You’re terrified. And Clarisse looks the exact same way you feel.

You mouth her name.

Carrie and Matty are gathered around you, telling you to just breathe, take a breath in, but you can’t.

Clarisse let’s go of you and ignores your hands trying to hold her back, ignores Carrie warning her.

Oh, Gods, you’re in love with her and she’s just your friend, but it all hurts and you just need her right now.

Percy tries to scramble away from what he’s done, but Clarisse grabs him by his shirt and holds him up.

You think she’s actually going to kill him- then the conch sounds.

You all turn around.

The blue team runs to the beach, sticking the red flag into the ground. They all cheer loudly, Luke and Chris at the center of it.

Clarisse throws Percy back down on the ground.

She picks up your bow. Matty helps you stand up, you can breathe now, and you’re really fine. You just couldn’t for a minute. You don’t look at Clarisse, even though you want to.

—-

The four of you end up at the sword practice field, sitting on picnic tables like you did that one day.

Matty touches a few scratches on his arms from where he burst through the woods, scraping himself on something thorny.

Clarisse walks towards a dummy and starts attacking it. She lets all her anger out on it. They didn’t win, and her revenge is incomplete so, its not even worth it. You could have told her that from the beginning, but whatever.

Clarisse can do whatever she wants. She doesn’t listen to you, she doesn’t care about you- not as much as you want her too. Not as much as you care about her.

She’s so wonderfully in her element it makes you want her more. This is where she belongs, in the field in the sun, with her spear in her hands. She belongs here, where she feels closest to her father and farthest away from her responsibilities, from the constant battle it is for her to keep her emotions in check.

Even after a minute of her obliterating the dummy, she seems better. Finally, after another minute, she slows down until she stops.

You don’t stop looking at her until she turns around and looks at you. She breathes out.

“Are you okay?” she asks, sitting down on the opposite end of the bench.

“Fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me.”

She hums.

“C’mon, Matty,” Carrie says. “Let’s go back to the cabin, I’m thirsty.”

You’re not ready to get up yet, you’re too comfortable here on the bench, it’s too easy to breathe in the valley.

Clarisse flexes, stretching her spear over her head, and you watch her. Of course you watch her. You don’t think you’ll ever just be able to look at her in passing- you’ll always have to focused, you’ve always have to have your eyes totally and completely on her.

Like she’s some book you have to study. Like she’s all you’ve ever wanted to look at.

“Stop staring at me, weirdo,” she mumbles.

You sit up straighter. “I’m not. You’re just flexing dramatically all over the place, of course I’m gonna take notice of it.”

“Okay, sure,” she taunts, and you remember what happened, you remember how you felt when she walked away from you to continue with her revenge.

“I-I’m gonna go back to my cabin.” You don’t wanna be around her, not right now at least. “See you later, Clarisse.”

She stands up immediately. “I’ll walk you.”

“No, thanks, it’s fine.”

“Y/N, you got hurt because of me.” She crouches down and tugs up your pant leg. “How’s your leg? Your side?”

Matty, Carrie and Clarisse too, sometimes, are always touching you and doing things for you. It’s sweet. They aren’t good with the words, but they show you they love you, and that means more than anything else.

If she hadn’t done what she did, if she really cared about you, then you wouldn’t mind her touching you like this. You would love it.

“Clarisse- get off of me,” you shake your leg out, which hurts a bit, but she lets go and stands up.

Her face twists into one of anger, her fists clenched.

“I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry you got hurt. I feel really bad about it, so just let me do this for you.”

“It’s not about that,” you mumble, cursing yourself and hoping she doesn’t hear you. Of course she does.

“Then what’s it about?”

You try to turn away, but she clamps her around your wrist and tugs you back towards her.

“What’s it about, Y/N?”

She holds your hand to her chest.

You both know what it’s about.

“Just stop, Clarisse,” but your body betrays you and you make no move to push her away. She notices, of course she notices, and she pulls you closer. “We’ve been dancing around each other for months.”

She blinks and her grip on your wrist loosens.

“And it was fun. It was a fun game, okay, Clarisse. But you can stop playing it now. You showed me today that your care more about yourself then you ever could me. I’m sick of it.” You tug your hand away. “I’m so sick of it, Clarisse.”

She grips you tighter again.

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m running around looking like a fool, and you think I care about myself? You think I don’t care about you?”

Your breath is a little shaky again.

“You could have helped me and you chose revenge.”

“For you.”

“What?”

“He slammed his shield into your leg, knocked you over, and then shot you in the chest. Of course I wanted revenge. Not for me, it was about that at first, but then, Gods, did you do something to him?”

You laugh. She smiles, staring at your face like she’s seeing you for the first time.

“Like, he just kept coming after you, I don’t get it. But I… I like you. Like, like you. And I don’t know what that means, but I don’t really care. I just… want you. I want to be near you all the time. And I go crazy when you’re with someone else. I want to touch you all the time, hug you, hold you… I want to kiss you so bad I think I’m gonna fucking explode.”

Fuck is always the first word you think of when you think of her. It used to be because she made you so angry with the secrets, but now it’s just the things the says make you wonder how much more you can fall in love with her.

“Well, I don’t really want you to explode,” you roll your eyes. “That’d be too messy. Besides, I-”

“You’re always such a fucking worrier.”

She plants her hands on your face and presses her lips to yours. You can feel the slight desperateness she won’t say, but she’ll tell you with her body. You can feel everything she won’t show, won’t say. How beautiful you are. How scared she was. How much she wanted you and for how long.

You feel it all just by her lips, and you can’t help but wonder what more she can tell you.

She pulls back and smiles.

“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll deny it.”

“I’m the light of your life, Clarisse.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, grabbing you tighter and kissing you again. You grab onto her arms, smiling. You always wondered what he muscles would feel like against you.

There’s only one word to describe the way it feels.

Fuck.

—-

clarisse when she accidentally told y/n she has pretty eyes: PLEASE DONT NOTICE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

y/n my ladybug not noticing: 🧍‍♀️

—-

y/n and clarisse just being insane together WDYM YOURE LAUGHING WHEN A KID FALLS OVER STOP

—-

clarisse: bitch stop WORRYING

y/n: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME SHUT UP

—-

clarisse and y/n both pretending that clarisse giving her a dagger wasnt literally a declaration of love and also clarisse throwing her spear down to catch y/n???? bitch she’s in LOVE

—-

taglist:

@jazhandzzz

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss

[asimpwithfreetime]

Our baby (Yandere! Platonic! Sullys x sickly born! Daughter/sister! Reader)

Summary: Y/n was born sickly, scaring all her family a few times in her life with that condition. Now she is doing better but they are all overprotective of her now. (Just a bunch of cute fluff scenes with them and then yandere stuff)

General warnings: yandere behavior, yandere sully family, manipulating/ fear tripping yandere! Jake, violent! Neytiri, fights between Neteyam and Lo’ak, purring! Loak,

Content warnings: English isn’t my first language and this hasn’t been proofread.

[ 3rd Person POV ]

The Sully family was really close, all of them orbiting around Y/n. Y/n was born sickly and usually got ill more times in a year.

Everyone took good care of her. From her protective parents to her little sister, Tuk. Do not forget about her three older siblings that would do absolutely ANYTHING for her.

Jake never let her do anything remotely dangerous, what if his baby got hurt? He wouldn’t survive it. Also, why did she need to know that, she already had him, right?

“You ready, baby girl?” Jake asked his daughter, bringing her close to his ikran. She wanted to fly with one but he didn’t let her. Instead, they could fly together. He helped her up and sat behind her. Once she steadied her posture, he held her in place and they started flying.

At first it was fun but suddenly, the ikran almost crashed into the ground a few times. Jake protected Y/n. She didn’t know he was doing it on purpose. She screamed and cried, holding her dad as a life line.

“There, there, my baby” he cooed once on land. “This is why I don’t let you fly, I don’t want you hurt” he said. She hugged him tightly in between sniffles.

Neytiri was at a whole other level. With a simple “NO” and a hiss she would have everything settled. She even blackmailed and threatened a bunch of Na’vi in the clan to tell her daughter off whenever she tried to sneak around. If other people convinced Y/n, she wouldn’t be the bad guy.

She would be always there for her. As the daughter of the Tsa’hìk she new a lot about medicine and she would cure her baby. She knew how fragile Y/n was and she wanted to protect her baby. She never got aggressive against her, but Neytiri would punch to literal pulp anyone who tried to tell Y/n she didn’t need her family on her all the time.

Neteyam needed Y/n as he needed to breathe. She was his everything. Jake was really stern on him and he could always run to Y/n and still be seen as a hero and a role model. He loved the way she admired her big brother. He liked being appreciated.

He has fought Lo’ak over who loved her more in the past, close enough to draw blood. Jake had stopped them but it was always the same. Neteyam would cuddle with Y/n whenever she was sick, even if it was contagious. He didn’t mind. If he got sick taking care and loving his baby sister, then so be it. Eywa sent him the mission of being there with her. And don’t even think about dating. Neteyam would get caught, but he would kill any boy that looked at her more than twice.

Lo’ak teases Y/n’s sickness sometimes, only if she was going to laugh or crack a smile. He loved her laugh, it made him fill useful. Y/n was his reason to go on. He would be lost without her. In a forest of darkness, she was his moon, his night sky and his guide. She didn’t know it, but she was.

He loved holding her close when she got better from an illness, hearing her heartbeat and purring happily lulling her to sleep.

Lo’ak loved to get on fights just to get treated by his sister, she had such a gentle care that he couldn’t deny it. And maybe he didn’t create fights sporadically. He would fight Na’vi he knew had a crush on Y/n. He would teach them a lesson.

Kiri wasn’t violent physically, but verbally. She had destroyed a lot of people just with the power of the word. And whenever someone made fun of her sister for being sickly or for being weak, or someone would DARE to be in love with Y/n, she would make their live a living hell.

With Y/n she was all soft and gentle. As Y/n wasn’t allowed out alone, Kiri would bring her flowers, rocks and everything interesting she found while going for a walk. That way Y/n could experiment the wonders of Pandora form the safety of her home.

[yeollie-plz]

Rom-Com

Charles Leclerc x GN! Reader

Synopsis: You just wanted to buy some merch, you didn’t realize you’d return with a man too.

Genre: fluff, angst

Warnings: kissing, tbh I don’t think anything else it’s too fluffy

Gif credits to owners!

A/N: So this literally came to me in a dream and I just had to write it! Ik the concept is a bit shaky but tbh I didn’t get much detail from dream me so!

Arriving in Las Vegas, you were over the moon to see the GP that was being held there this weekend. It was your first time ever getting to go to one in person and to say you were excited would be an understatement.

When your friend first suggested the idea, you never thought you’d be able to swing it. But, here you were landing in Sin City!

Then your friend suggested to go to the secret pop-up shop that she had saw online. It seemed just a bit sus but hey you wanted some exclusive merch. So you agreed.

The shop was cute, they had merch you had never seen before! As you looked through the various items, you couldn’t help but notice a crowd drawing towards a certain corner of the shop.

The shop was small, only letting a few people in at a time, so for them all to be so close together. Something had to be going on.

Curiosity got the best of you as you let your body ease towards the crowd. Whispers getting louder as you got closer. Hearing words of ‘a driver being here’.

You rose to your tippy toes, trying to get a glimpse of anything. As your neck craned you saw a head of brown hair, right as a camera flashed. You lost your balance, letting yourself recenter when you landed on the ground. Was there really a driver here?

As you moved around the outer ring of the circle, you tried to get any view that you could. Long since losing your friend, you decided you might as well just push forward. As nicely as you could, you wiggled your way through the crowd trying to decipher all the commotion.

That’s when you saw him. In all his glory. Charles Leclerc.

It couldn’t be! The Charles Leclerc was in a random pop-up shop, down a random alley in Las Vegas? It was like something from a meet-cute in a romantic comedy. No! It was like an event from a fanfiction!

And just like how the fanfiction would play out, you waited for your turn to acknowledge the boy and when he finally locked eyes with you, sparks. You stumbled over your words a bit, trying to find the right way to extend your appreciation for him.

He laughed lightly as you tried to find your words. He gestured to the couch that lined the wall, willing you to sit and as you did the camera flash went off again. It seemed to snap you into reality, remembering that this was just a PR thing. Some fan service that he was doing.

You let the pictures be taken, smiling as brightly as you could with your nerves the way they were. That’s when on his own accord, Charles closed the distance between the two of you on the couch and threw his arm over your shoulder.

Your smile instantly dropped, a look of shock replaced it. The last camera flash went off, leaving white lights in your eyes.

The arm that was around your shoulders helped to gesture you to stand. You stood and whispered a thank you before scurrying off.

As you meandered around the store, trying to find your friend, you found yourself glancing back to the area Charles was at. Each time his eyes met yours, something flashing behind them. It was almost inviting.

You turned a corner finally finding your friend. As you scolded her for wandering off without you, a voice sounded behind you.

“So what do you think, do you think if I wrapped this enough it would make it home in one piece?”

You turned to see Charles standing there holding up a snow globe. His head was tilted in question, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I-um I think with enough it would be fine, sure.” You confirmed.

“What did you pick out?” He gestured to the shirt you were clutching, you hadn’t realized how firmly until he pointed it out. Walking closer to you he grabbed the shirt from your now limp hands and held it up, considering it.

“Nice choice. Although you should’ve went with Ferrari red. It would look good on you.” He said with a smile, slipping the shirt back in your hands and leaving you two alone without a word.

“First of all, was that Charles Leclerc? Second of all, was Charles Leclerc just flirting with you?” Your friend asked in shock. She grabbed your shoulders as if shaking you would loosen some answers from you.

“Yes it was and no he wasn’t.” Brushing her hands off you as you spoke.

“Then what’s this?” She grabs a piece of paper that had somehow made it into your hands, bunched with the shirt. “His number!” She confirms after looking at it.

She holds it out for you to see before whisking it away and running through the store. You chase closely after her. Not only are you trying to catch her, but the number of the super hot F1 driver.

Finally you do and you snatch the number from her death grip. Glancing down you see it truly is Charles Leclerc’s number. Your eyes go wide.

“So are you going to text him?” She asks, hand on her hip.

“Is that even a question?”

It’s almost three months later when you see Charles Leclerc again. The two of you have been texting almost nonstop in that time. You could feel yourself slowly falling for him. You just hoped he felt the same way.

When he said was coming to visit New York and would like to see you, you were overjoyed. Somehow that made you even happier than when you had gone to your first GP.

Charles made you feel like a teenager again. A teenager with a huge crush on a cute boy, that is. But you were grateful for that, it felt good to feel this way.

Now to just get him to say it back.

That entire weekend, you were on a mission to get a love confession. You had pulled out all the stops. Booking museum tickets. Walking Central Park. You even got the two of you tickets to ice skate and you were terrible at ice skating!

You were writing a script to your own romance. First the meet cute, now the fun montage set to an upbeat hit. All that was left was the grand gesture.

And that’s where you were stuck. Usually there was a conflict in the movie that would call for that grand gesture. But you and Charles got along too well, you didn’t see any intense relationship ending arguments happening any time soon.

That was until someone finally took a picture of you and Charles out one day. Honestly, you were surprised it took that long. It wasn’t like you minded it had leaked, you were just friends hanging out, technically. Charles’s PR team on the other hand, had a big problem with it.

Ten minutes he had been in the other room, whispering yelling into his phone. Suddenly he yelled something like a goodbye and rushed out the door of his bedroom and into the living space of the huge hotel suite he had booked.

He sighed, “Sorry, they are just so dramatic about everything. One picture and they say it’s the end of my career. I drive for a living! I’m not a puppet!”

“Would it really be that bad if you were with someone?” ‘With me’ is what you wanted to say but you didn’t have the heart to.

“They think it would be. But I don’t see why it would matter if I dated anyone, I’ve done it in the past.” He sighs again, running his hand through his hair.

“Is it because I’m a nobody? They want some big star to boost your name?” You looked down at your hands.

“It has nothing to do with you! They just think anybody is an issue! I told them we are friends! I just-maybe you should go home. I’ll call a car. I’m sorry.”

With that, you leave. Not sure what to say.

The day of his flight home comes and Charles has not come to see you since that day you left his hotel. You hadn’t reached out to him and he hadn’t reached out to you.

There was no reason to feel sad about him saying you were friends, you knew that’s all you were and any silly little feelings you had couldn’t change that.

A knock sounds at your door. You glance through the peephole, seeing Charles standing there. Your brows furrow in confusion as you open the door for him.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be on a plane?”

He seems out of breath as he answers, “I couldn’t leave, not without saying what I need to say.”

“Okay, go on.” You urge sweetly.

“So I know I said we were friends but you and I both know we are more than that. I mean hell the first time I saw you I think I fell in love. Then I played this game with myself. I thought you would never love me back and I was a fool for even trying. Then you seemed to reciprocate my flirting and I was elated. For the first time I felt whole. But I think I got scared when the pictures leaked.” He paused like he was contemplating what to say next.

You reached your hand to his cheek, rubbing slowly. He leaned into the motion, seemingly giving him his confidence back.

“I got scared that you wouldn’t want a life in the spotlight and I could never give you that normal romance that you deserved.” Another pause.

“When I asked you about your favorite movie, you couldn’t give me just one. You gave me a genre, I went home and watched every available rom-com I could find just to understand you. You don’t need textbook perfect, you just need perfect for you. You need your rom-com.”

A smile creeps into your lips as he searches your eyes. You grab the front of his shirt, pulling him into you. Passionately, you kiss him, silently giving him your answer.

He laughs as he pulls away, breathless, “I guess you could call this the grand gesture.”

Your heart skips a beat.

“I guess you could.”

[runa-falls]

pornstar!moon-boys x fluffer!reader

part three: jake

a/n: some headcannons bc we filthy up in this bitch >:) 1.5k??? i'm overcompensating for something lmao

others: marc | steven | more steven

as a fluffer, it's your job to know how to keep the boys interested. each alter has their own preferences:

(NSFW 18+ under the cut)

jake: the troublemaker

GIF by manny-jacinto

Jake was the last (and final?) alter you met. He didn't ask for you the first time you met. Actually, you thought you were seeing Marc, but it turns out Jake was 'covering this one' for him, whatever that means.

It turns out Jake had been in the industry longer than Steven but you've just never met him. Unlike the other boys, he was used to taking whatever fluffer was offered on set, not really preferring or caring who was preparing him for the day. It never really mattered to him.

And then he met you.

His eyebrows raise when you walk in, eyes taking in every inch of your body. You're dressed in a pair of comfy shorts and an oversized shirt, hair styled casually so it's out of your face (Marc was going through a phase where he craves to see you in pajamas, needing that extra domesticity and softness).

Jake doesn't greet you, or even bother to stand up from the couch to shake your hand. He looks...amused, like he recognizes you.

"You're that girl that has my brothers wrapped around her finger." It's not a question, more like a statement.

He leans back against the couch as if to get a better view of what's in front of him. He looks like Marc, but he doesn't sound or carry himself like him. And he's definitely not Steven.

You don't deny his words, "And... you are?"

"Lockley, Jake Lockley." He still doesn't move to shake your hand, just says it with a nod.

"Another...?"

"Yeah, there are three of us... As far as I know."

"Where's --"

"Marc? I dunno." He doesn't look too concerned. It's almost like he's barely interested in the conversation when it isn't about himself. "But I'm here." You catch your first glimpse of his famous smirk, one that you've learned spells trouble.

You've named Jake as the troublemaker of the trio because he constantly bends the rules and does what he wants. Especially with you.

For one, he's the first alter you ever fucked. Actually, he's the first pornstar you've fucked, too.

Usually you have a longer session the first time, but 20 minutes would have to do. He's still staring at you, sitting on the couch with his legs spread wide. Inviting.

You go up to him like any other client, not phased by his dark eyes and mischievous allure, and straddle over his thighs. His hands immediately come up to hold your waist, steadying you easily against him.

Other than that, he doesn't make a move, clearly waiting to see what you'll do.

"So what do you like, Lockley?"

"Aren't you supposed to figure that out, sweetheart?"

Kissing Jake always takes your breath away. He's demanding but somehow he makes you feel like you need it, not the other way around.

He's dirty with it, drawing you in with soft kisses before nipping at your lips and then deepening it by laving his tongue against yours. It's addicting how smoothly he moves against you, tempting your body to take it a step up, to cross that line.

You are sitting up on your knees just a few inches off of his lap, hovering over and making out with him, hands cradling his jaw. You have the upper hand (and are literally over him) but you've never felt so lost in a kiss.

You feel his hands drag from your waist to your ass. He grasps you, shoving your loose soft shorts up so he can feel your skin against his palms. You let him.

That was your first mistake.

You're distracted by his mouth when his hand shifts from your butt to your aching center. You've been dripping -- soaking since he gave you a taste of his tongue, since he first held you.

You let out a surprised moan as his fingers press flush against your clothed core, stroking against your most sensitive area. He applies the perfect amount of pressure against your cunt, brushing and prodding at your entrance over your clothes before cruelly teasing your clit.

You let it go on far longer than you should've, but it just felt so good. And then it felt too good.

He rubs your clit until you're seeing white, until you can only think of him and how he's touching you.

You gasp, "Jake!" Your legs shake from having to hold yourself up as he pushes you off the edge. He growls as you wrap your arms around his shoulders to keep you steady. You settle back onto his lap, forehead resting against his chest as you pant and calm down.

He's hard as a rock against you, practically pulsing as he watches you come down from your orgasm and melt against him.

He figured you out, and you, him.

Jake gets off on getting you off.

When you're his fluffer, you're his to touch, tease, and prod, not the other way around.

You wouldn't really call him a 'giving' partner because at the end of the day, he does it for himself.

He's selfish in how he'll pull orgasm after orgasm out of you, just because it pleases him. He doesn't care if you're writhing under him.

That first session didn't end where it was supposed to. Giving you an orgasm was already more than you're used to. But he kept going. You were distracted, caught off guard.

That was you're second mistake.

Before your lust-fogged mind could wrap around what was happening, your loose and stretchy pajama shorts were tugged to the side and he was pushing up into you.

The stretch was intense, but he slid in easily with how wet you were for him. You both groan simultaneously as he filled you to the brim.

After that first round, Jake ceased production for the day, telling everyone to go home while yelling "Don't fucking interrupt me" on his way back to his dressing room.

---

(He's not allowed to fuck you during working hours anymore -- they even put it in his contract. He wasn't too happy about that.)

Needless to say, you were called back the next day.

As much as Jake loves to play with you, sometimes there isn't enough time, especially on bigger projects with less time to fool around. In those cases, he takes a quick sloppy blowjob.

And by sloppy, you mean sloppy.

He loves watching you struggle to swallow him down, eyes shiny with tears and drool dripping down your neck.

His hand grips your hair, guiding the smooth pace as you bob against him. You whine as he slowly speed up, your jaw is already tired and knees are sore. You hold on your his hips to help stay steady as he starts to thrust back into you, cock hitting the back of your throat every so often. You gag and he growls.

He's the one who pulls you off, knowing his own limits.

He's the most controlled out of the three, able to slip you off his cock just at the right moment before walking out and starting the day.

He groans when he peers down at you, "Fuck...I wish I could cum down that pretty throat," You're wiping your mouth, lips still vibrating from the way he fucked into you. "C'mon baby, let's go. Call time's in five." You comb your fingers through you messy hair before he helps you up.

Then you follow him out.

Like Marc and Steven, he also refuses to be prepped by anyone else. But he also takes it a step further (bc of course he does), he takes you to set with him. Like some 'bring-your-girlfriend-to-work' day.

(oh yeah...you're with them now...)

You didn't even know that you were allowed to physically be on set when scenes are being recorded, until Jake insisted, claiming he could only keep it up if you were watching.

Sometimes when he's fucking a girl (or fucking himself) he looks up, eyes scanning the room until he finds you. The cameras don't exist to Jake and this isn't his job. Porn -- or being recording -- is just him doing the company a favor and letting them have a glimpse into his bedroom habits. He doesn't give a fuck.

He meets your gaze and sends you a cocky smirk, hands restraining the body under him as he roughly slams his hips against hers. It never fails to make your breath hitch and skin bloom with heat.

He gives you the same intense look when you're under him, choking on his cock. He's imagining that you're under him now, stretched and ruined for him. Whimpering and crying out for more. As much as you try to ignore him, you can't. It's like driving past a car wreck, you can't look away.

Directors have had to scrap countless recordings for the final production of videos when he'd get really carried away, grunt dirty words in spanish to the girl in the corner of the room (you) that the camera can't even see.

It's not all bad though, the company sometimes uses those behind-the-scene vids of him, basically cuckholding you, for exclusive content. And viewers go feral for it. Probably because it's more genuine than half of the videos out there.

[agent-darkfest]

Here’s my other Magma piece, this time from the Farm/Scarecrow AU!

I was listening to one of my favorite songs: Sun Goes Down by Jordan David, and it really inspired me to draw something from the Farm/Scarecrow AU.

I picture this taking place when it’s night time and Moon is patrolling the farm grounds (Sun tends to keep his patrols closer to the farm house). He and Sun are like brothers in this AU and they tend to always mess with each other. So to annoy Sun, Moon decides to play his banjo in the middle of the night (he already did his first few patrols and has a bit of time). Moon also knows that y/n (about 8 around this time) loves listening to his silly songs and isn’t asleep yet, so he plays as loudly as possible. Sun, trying to make sure that no one is disturbed by his brother’s singing and poor choice in song goes to where Moon is to tell him to knock it off, in turn, Moon plays louder. Y/n giggles as she watches all this unfold from her bedroom window.

I picture Moon in the image below singing at 2:50 time stamp in the song

I love the grin Moon has as he says the last line to Sun. I prommy, they care about each other very much.

Also, if you are interested, below is the link to the song. =)

————————————

[anobsessedwriter]

𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑪𝒚𝒄𝒍𝒆ִֶָ࣪☾.

Rafe Cameron × reader (ANGST)

Warning: toxic relationships, manipulation, gaslight, just rafe being toxic.

๋࣭ ⭑✮˙⭑

˖⋆࿐໋

Rafe Cameron had a way of drawing people in with his magnetic charm and effortless charisma, not to mention his good looks. When you first met him at a summer party, the way he smiled and looked at you, made you feel like the most special person in the room. you were easily captivated by his charm.

In the early stages of your relationship, Rafe was the perfect boyfriend. He showered you with affection and gifts, constantly surprising you with dinners and weekend getaways. “You deserve the world,” he’d say, making you feel over the moon, These moments created a deep bond between the both of you, but they were also a smokescreen for the darker aspects of his personality.

As their relationship progressed, the cracks began to show. Rafe’s controlling tendencies started subtly. When you went out with friends, Rafe would text you frequently, questioning where you were and who you were with. “I just want to know you’re safe,” , "Can't you see that i'm worried",his frequent messages felt suffocating, as you couldn't enjoy a moment without him making you feel guilty for leaving him alone so you'd quickly return.

whenever you decide to attend a party with your friends, Rafe’s demeanor would immediately shift from affectionate to cold as soon as you mention your plans to him. he'd always say “Again with the parties?” or “I thought we had plans tonight.”, "they're more important than your own boyfriend?" you always try to explain that you need a bit of space, but Rafe’s disapproval was palpable. you were left with feeling guilty and ashamed for wanting to enjoy a night out.

During the next few months together, Rafe’s outbursts became more frequent and intense. He would criticize your appearance, and say things like “ why are you trying too hard” or "isnt that way too revealing?",One afternoon, as you were getting ready for a casual lunch date, Rafe snidely remarked, “Are you really going out in that? looking like a damn hooker.” The comment left you feeling self-conscious and hurt, despite your attempts to brush it off.

he'd constantly accuse you of cheating, whenever you don't text him instantly, when you don't pick up immediately or when you come home a bit late, he'd yell and break things, making you cry and flinch then he'd try to comfort you saying he's sorry and he just love you.

Rafe’s manipulation was psychological as much as emotional. When you tried to discuss your feelings, he would deflect or twist the conversation. “You’re too sensitive,” he’d say when you expressed how you felt by his actions and words. “I’m just being honest. If you can’t handle the truth, maybe this isn’t going to work.” you felt like you were walking on eggshells, afraid to express your emotions in for of making him upset or starting another argument.

The relationship became more toxic as Rafe started to slowly isolate you from your friends and family. Whenever you spent time with them, Rafe would accuse you of neglecting him. “You’re always with them,” “Don’t you care about us anymore?” The guilt he built in you led you to eventually distance yourself from those you loved, making you more reliant and dependent on Rafe.

you still remember the time when your friend kiara noticed the change in you, you never were this distant or this quite. When She talked to you about it,Rafe blew up with anger. “She’s just trying to control you,” “She is probably jealous of us, i dont want you talking to her okay?”, you just couldn't say no or disagree with him.

Rafe’s apologies were frequent trying to manipulate you into forgiving him, he would show up at your apartment with flowers and a box of your favourite chocolates. “I’m sorry for what happened,” ,“I love you more than anything. I’ll change, I promise.”

and if that doesn't work? he'll switch it up on you balming you for it all, "it's all your fault", "maybe this wouldn't happen if you just listened to me", you would forgive him, hoping that these sweet and caring gestures were a sign of change.

Despite these moments of sweetness, the cycle of toxicity continued. On one occasion, you discovered that Rafe had been secretly reading your messages, When you confronted him, Rafe’s reaction was defensive. “I just wanted to check, whats wron with reading my girlfriend's messges” he said. “why are you upset? are you hiding something?.”

The last straw was when Rafe had taken you to a dinner with his family and friends where he criticized you in front of everyone When you tried to defend yourself, Rafe would get angry “You’re embarrassing me you know?" , “Why can’t you just behave".

That night, as you laid in bed, you realized that the person you once were had been overshadowed by Rafe’s demands and criticisms. The realization was painful, but it needed to be acknowledged. you knew you needed to leave for your own well-being.

you got up and started packing things to leave. Rafe’s pleas for you were too hard for you to ignore. “im just trying to protect you,” he said, “We can work this out. I promise, I love you.” and you couldn't say no to him,you couldn't just ignore him and leave you were too far in love.

would he really change....probably not but you still had hope.