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hitlikehammers · 3 months

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nowhere without you

rating: t ♥️ cw: post-final battle, hurt/comfort ♥️ tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, BIG emotions, even BIGGER love, as in: soul-deep love, softness; happy endings always ♥️

for @steddielovemonth day eight: Love is the heartbeat I can feel when I hug him

(also probably the humble love-soaked endlessly-devoted beginnings of the rockstar!husbands in je ne regrette rien)

The weirdest part is how, in the aftermath, Eddie doesn’t speak. Like, at all.

Scratch that: it’s the weirdest and the most concerning part. Eddie makes noise, mostly pained kinda moans that make Steve’s chest clench, ache more the admittedly-decently-deep wounds slowly—but reliably, like, consistently—stitching themselves together, and Steve begs him to get looked at again, because something has to be wrong to cause those kinds of sounds but Eddie doesn’t even shake his head, doesn’t really move at all save that sometimes he trembles, and it’s…

It fucking breaks Steve’s heart.

He’s almost gotten used to stroking Eddie’s hair in silence—so wrong; worthy Eddie that’s just so wrong—and working any tangles out so, much as it’s getting a limp and greasy with days of neglect, at least it’s smooth; but he’s almost resigned to this for the long haul because he’ll weather anything he has to for Eddie and they’ll work through this, whatever this is, they’ll worth through it together and—

“How did you stand you it?”

The sound is more a scratch than anything, glass on sandpaper, and it’s down to Eddie lying where he hasn’t left for the last four, going on five days—as in, not once while Steve’s been awake has he existed without Eddie’s weight situated just so against his chest, sinuous and deliberate in where he presses against, careful as a rule of Steve’s worst injuries and delicate about how he rests against Steve’s body, but not…hesitant.

More, kinda…kinda desperate.

So it’s down to him being pressed so close and sure and unwavering that Steve feels him speak more than anything, matches the motion of his lips against Steve’s gown to words rather than the wind, or something outside his door to the halls of the hospital beyond; it’s down to the tension in the whole of him, the all-too-present shaking that Steve matches the scrape of the question to a hurt that’s…that maybe Steve doesn’t wholly understand just yet, but that really and truly does cut him deeper and closer and more critical at the core of him than the Upside Down ever could have clawed in: Eddie lives in him, nothing else can really…ever hope to be deeper.

“How are you,” Eddie rolls gravel across more words, and Steve’s missed his voice so fucking much, he didn’t realize how much until it’s here again for him to hear and hold but, Jesus fuck, it’s like…it’s like it’s drowning; like Eddie is drowning and then his breath is hitching, and oh, god, that voice is cracking around the edge of a sob, watery and wavering as he damn-near close to begs:

“How did you survive it?”

Steve feels it clench in his ribs, because he thinks he…he thinks he’s putting it together. The strain, the agony in that voice, that voice he loves so fucking much, from this man he loves with everything, but then—the way Eddie presses into him. The force, and the position, and the pattern. The way he’s been quiet, unfailing, but never…never seems distant, seems the opposite: seems focused; intent. The way Dustin had come in and caught him upon the things he’d missed in one of the almost-nonexistent windows where Eddie sleeps, hand lines alongside his sternum and head curled in the most uncomfortable pretzel Steve can imagine, forehead all scrunched and eyes squeezed shut so goddamn hard, looking like any sleep he manages is nothing close to rest by any measure: but Dustin had came in and told him Eddie was the first to him; Eddie ran faster than he’d seen a person run; Eddie’d looked devastated, broken when they’d caught up, and they’d been so afraid, feared the worst, and—

Steve’s starting to fit the pieces together. Maybe.

“No,” Eddie whines, pitchy and fervent and almost ear-splitting, like a wail of sheer gut-wrenching pain that Steve can’t find the reason for in the here and now because it’s just them in a hospital room, they’re okay, and his hand presses heavy, gentle around his wounds still, always gentle and so, so careful and Steve doesn’t know what’s caused the reaction, but then—

Then he can feel his fucking heartbeat for how hard Eddie’s pressing. It’s weird, how it makes him feel…strangely alive, the sensation of it kept and held like that, specifically in Eddie’s hand. And he’s not paying attention to the monitors really, tuned them out as quick as he could but when he listens, okay. Okay, maybe faster than normal, but Steve’s fucking worried, okay, he’s—

“Fuck, no,” Eddie moans and twists his head, no, not just his head, his ear and leans harder into Steve’s chest, his breathing shallow and Steve hates it but he doesn’t know what to do, how to help, what to fix because he’ll fix it if he knows, he’ll climb out of this bed and crawl on the goddamn floors of he has to, but he doesn’t know where to go, what to find, what demon’s left to slay—

“I’m just, I’m grateful you did,” survive, Steve survived…

He survived, like, now?

“But grateful’s such a weak word, it doesn’t,” and Steve takes a breath, and reaches, rests his hand on Eddie’s wrist just to see: his heartbeat’s somuch faster, it’s like a flutter of a flutter felt strong enough to break through skin, it catches in Steve’s heart just to touch—

“You’re so much stronger than I could ever, like,” Eddie’s going on, still breathless and fuck, Steve can see why; “fucking hope to be.”

Shit, but that’s…he wasn’t stronger, fuck, Steve wasn’t stronger than Eddie, Eddie nearly got eaten alive, Steve nearly couldn’t staunch enough of the bleeding, he almost lost—

Eddie keens, horrible and hurting and Steve stills: the monitor. The thundering of his own pulse at the memory.

How did you survive it?

Losing. Almost losing. That’s…that’s what it is.

That’s why Eddie’s pressed against his chest, his his head and his hand have been a fucking frame, goddamn, like, parentheses surrounding Steve’s beating heart, proof of life, Jesus—

“But I need to be,” Eddie’s voice is quiet, but steadier, and his chin dips like a nod to himself; “I need to learn how,” he’s firm with it; “for you.”

Oh, god. Oh…oh Eddie.

“I can’t ever lose you, Steve,” Eddie presses trembling lips to Steve’s chest and then presses close again, so close and oh: he wasn’t just intent where he’s been silent so long.

He was listening.

“Never ever,” he breathes against Steve, hot and damp; almost kinda breathless again, or still: “never ever.”

“Eds,” Steve begins, not even entirely sure where he plans to go, just knows he needs to do something, say something, but Eddie’s turning Steve’s hand in his, where he’d circled Eddie’s wrist; he’s turning it and mirroring the hold, gripping Steve’s wrist in kind.

“I couldn’t find it,” he gasps, and the sound makes the sob clear before Steve feels the wetness soak through to his skin; “I couldn’t feel it at all, you were, it,” he presses his fingers in hard, squeezes so goddamn tight, and Steve can’t…he doesn’t want to imagine what Eddie had to do, what Eddie found and felt, he doesn’t but he can, because he remembers the mirror image so stark, it took him so long because he couldn’t find a pulse either, he’d had to press on Eddie’s heart at the source and even then—

“I couldn’t feel you.”

Oh. Fuck. He—

“Oh, baby,” Steve’s elevated enough at an angle that he can at least kiss Eddie’s hair, barely brush his scalp but it’s enough, for the breath that punches from Eddie against his chest it’s at least something; “that’s…”

“I won’t survive that again, Steve,” Eddie sucks in, unsteady and drenched with tears, with sorrow, but also…also more than anything else, they’re filled up with so much love.

A love big enough to hurt that hard.

“And I can’t…” Eddie gasps, breath catching; “I can’t handle not feeling it,” and his fingers tighten; his hand on Steve’s chest and his cheek across from it press down that extra little bit so Steve knows his own heartbeat in those moments full and deep.

“Have to feel it always,” Eddie whispers like he’s telling himself, and Steve, and Steve’s heart through flesh and bone, some cosmic secret no one else can know: too sacred. Too precious.

“You can feel it any time,” Steve lets his hand fall from Eddie’s to cover the hand Eddie’s got splayed ln his chest, counting time; holds him there almost protectively: “all the time,” and he slips his fingers between Eddie’s and shifts his palm close to the beating, so he can still feel what he needs as he murmurs with his heart literally in Eddie’s hands, with his entire goddamn soul:

“All of me. It’s yours.”

Unshakable fucking fact. He doesn’t even have to will it, or hope for it; his heartbeat knocks that heavier against their hands for those words like it knows.

It knows.

“Don’t leave me,” Eddie bursts out, begging; almost something primal, and Steve can feel the tremoring of his lips where they drag against him; “please. I’ll do anything, I swear it, just don’t—“

“Be you,” Steve braves the whimper that comes from untangling his hand from Eddie so that he can reach for Eddies cheek and cradle him in closer, and oh, fuck, thank god: something in him sighs out and loosens, ever so slightly—finally.

“Everything you are,” Steve presses on, runs his thumb back and forth through Eddie’s drooping curls; “let me love you, past living and dying,” and Eddie’s breath catches, for that, but Steve holds him tighter for it, drowns him as best he’s able in the proof he needs so bad; “don’t leave me,” and Eddie huffs a little for that, like it’s beyond believing, impossible, and Steve smiles to himself for it, tries to lean enough to press the grin to Eddie’s head, hopes he manages as he murmurs there close:

“That’s it, Eddie,” and he lets his fingers spread wider, cradle Eddie all the more: “that’s all I need.”

“That and more baby,” Eddie answers him between the double-beat of his pulse, immediate; “you’re the music and the rhythm,” he nuzzles a little against him, and Steve smiles a little wider for it; “you’re the reason my heart beats,” and Steve finds that heartbeat for himself at Eddie’s jaw, now; a little calmer. Not much. But: something.

It’s a start.

”I don’t have a reason without you,” Eddie exhales, vehement; “I don’t want a reason, without you.”

And Steve should maybe push on it, or be scared by it: but neither seem right, not for this.

Not for them.

Steve just holds Eddie’s pulse under the pressure of his touch, and holds Eddie’s cheek closer still into his chest as he breathes:

“You’re my whole heart, Eds,” and he lets a second pass, and then another, for that heart of Eddie’s to pump evidence unshakable against him, to play the song and rhythm straight into his waiting ear:

“Was never going anywhere without you.”

♥️ ao3 link here

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch

♥️

divider credit here

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thatonegayship · 6 months

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I loved the cowboy comic so much that I wrote a oneshot for it. https://archiveofourown.org/works/50934235 🥺 your art is BEYOND amazing, ty for the food

INCREDIBLE!!!!!

#billdip #I honestly loved this story start to finish with the ambience and quick pace #hadn't considered the possibility of Bill and Dipper actually working *together* but it's always a good time when they do ❤️#sorry it took so long to reblog 🥲#I read it like- Right when you posted. But I had to catch a plane and then drive an extra hour home and immediately get on zoom for class #and today i was just all around exhausted so i slept roughly 70% of the entire day dndsjdndnd #all that to say that I had your fic in the back of my mind and I very much wanted to set some time aside and re-read it when I got the chan #honestly with how well you set things up I would've loved to see your own rendition of their first kiss #You established their relationship really well at the start and brought them together by the end after outsmsrtong those bandits #it feels like you have a better understanding of who they are to each other than even i do 😌 very much a fan #i love when stories incorporate those sort of 'habits' that the love interests fall into #that confuses character A while character B is so clearly using it as an excuse to get close and spend more time with them #i squealed like a maniac when Bill was like oooph lemme walk you home 😏🤠#sir i am going to wrangle you up if you don't compose yourself #and Dipper's just wary of him because people as handsome as bill used to pick on him 😢#little does he know he's grown into a 10/10 cutie patootie that any cowboy would be stupid NOT to smooch #I'm a simple man. I read oblivious low-confidence cowboy being pursued by a hottie on a horse. I lose my shit #Awesome wonderful writing!!! so happy to have caught your eye and i hope to continue pumping out content for this wonderfully weird ship

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cerise-on-top · 3 months

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I love your writing so much, you really captured who the Cod Men are 💜💜

Can I request Rudy with an S/O who likes to steal their clothing? Like I just know this man has soft hoodies and nice button-up shirts that we can use

Thank you 💜

Thank you, I try to write a mix of what I think the requester wants and how the CoD people would genuinely react to something! It's not always easy, but I try! And that's a really cute request! Rodolfo's been getting quite some love as of late, which is nice!

Rodolfo with a Clothes-Thief!Reader

When thinking about the relationship he has with you, Rodolfo thinks about many things: Spoonfeeding you some of his sorbet, cuddling under the blankets while drinking hot cocoa on a cold winter evening, kissing each other on the forehead during soft moments. He doesn’t really consider the bad things a relationship could bring all that often, being fairly romantic and wanting to live those soft and sweet moments with you, as well as remembering them in as much detail as he can. This changes when he notices you, who could usually do no wrong, waltzing around in your home wearing one of his hoodies. And I agree with you, his hoodies are very soft and warm since the fabric is important to him. He also makes sure they stay soft and comfortable since he always thought he’d be the only one wearing them. You opened his eyes, you are a thief.

When he sees you washing the dishes wearing one of his gray hoodies, he’ll simply stare at you for a moment, thinking about whether or not it’s real. He completely forgot that he, too, could be a victim of a relationship and lose his beloved clothing to his beloved criminal. If it’s a chilly morning, then he’ll simply walk up to you and hug you from behind. If he’s feeling especially mischievous, then he’ll put his hands under his article of clothing and onto your tummy so you can feel his cold hands. But that is unlikely to happen. Still! You need to be considerate of your partner as well! If you’re cold he is cold, put him in a blanket burrito!

While he knows exactly who this hoodie or sweater belongs to, he will ask you where you got it from, claiming that you’ve got a nice taste in fashion with a gentle smile. You can then either tell the truth or lie to him. The truth will earn you a chuckle and a kiss to your temple. Lie to him and he’ll interrogate you where you got it from. But eventually he will also ask you if you like his clothing that much. If you do, then you’re more than welcome to take it if he doesn’t need it that day. That extends to things that aren’t just sweaters or hoodies as well. Granted, he isn’t the most fashionable guy, but if he likes something enough he’ll usually buy it and look good in it as well. If you like his shirts as well, then sure, go for it. If it fits, then you can wear it. His clothing is, for the most part, fairly neutral. Lots of grays and lots of blues, so he prefers colder colors over warmer ones. There aren’t many motifs on his shirts, maybe some white palm leaves, but that’s about it.

If he sees you’ve really taken a liking to his clothing, then he’ll buy some more things he thinks you might enjoy, wear them every once in a while, and leave the rest up to you. He sort of does like seeing you in his clothing, in all honesty. You look snug and comfortable in it, plus it gives him the feeling that you do really really like him. When the two of you are roughly the same size, he’ll wear a sweater of yours as well from time to time, just to get some revenge and maybe feel as though you’re with him at that moment. It’s got your scent on it, and what else could be more precious in your absence? In fact, he’ll even give your big pink sweater a try if he really feels like it. You make him feel more comfortable in his skin, so he might even wear stuff like a hot pink and walk up to you so you can see him. If he looks ridiculous to you, he’ll be a bit nervous but laugh alongside you, if you compliment him and coo over how cute he looks, he’ll be a bit flustered and give you a shy smile. So yeah, if the both of you have been with each other for long enough and are comfortable enough, then the clothes stealing will go both ways, if possible.

Rodolfo might try to buy an extra oversized sweater so he can see if the both of you can fit underneath it. Yes, he hides that sweater for quite some time as he’s afraid you’ll laugh at him, but he really does want to try it some time. Maybe it’ll be fun. Maybe it’ll be pleasant. And if it’s neither of those things you have another oversized sweater to call your own. Sometimes you might even go clothes shopping together, just to see which parts of your wardrobe you can share together.

#cod #cod x reader #rodolfo parra #rodolfo parra x reader #I think I've gotten so many requests with Rudy that I feel more comfortable with him #not in writing sense but more in an established relationship sort of sense #not everything feels scary and new with him now which is why my view of him is slowly changing #like he's more willing to be touchy with reader now than he was when I started writing him since that “relationship” has been #going on for a while now. does that make sense? probably not but it feels nice #like the “relationship” is slowly progressing with him and he feels more comfortable with reader these days #I think it's sort of similar with Ghost since those two characters do share similarities when it comes to touch in my eyes #it's sort of sweet to watch actually reader and Rudy have grown closer and started loving each other even more these days #I remember when most of what I wrote could have been read as platonic as well. that's probably why they were hesitant on touch #but most if not all of what I write these days is romantic so touch isn't a big issue anymore #it just makes more sense. same thing with Valeria too I think #as a writer you sort of do build a relationship with the characters as well which is also very sweet in my eyes #the characters are friends. they're lovers. they're enemies. and anything inbetween #I never really noticed such a thing before but I thought about it today. did that happen with off too? I don't remember #so yeah. my HCs are slowly changing for the sweeter and I think that's cute! more domestic stuff which I'm a sucker for!

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resident-gay-bitch · 1 year

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got the idea from this, don’t ask me why

“eddie.” steve whispered into the dark night.

eddie made a weird noise in response, not quite a word and not quite anything else.

“eddie, are you awake?”

eddie sighed, turned his head to face steve, still laying on his stomach, “well i am now.”

steve just looked up at the roof, “i… no, don’t worry. it’s dumb.”

“no, what?” eddie asked, trying to force his eyes open now, genuinely concerned for his boyfriend, “what’s on your mind, stevie?”

“well, it’s just something i overheard some girls talking about at work today, and it’s been on my mind.”

“what’d they say? we’re they homophobic?”

“no.” steve huffed with a smile, “no, it’s just… irs just silly.”

“okay…”

“well, they were talking and, well, one girl had asked her boyfriend something and she was telling her friend about it, and they were swooning over it.” steve turned to look at eddie, who barely had his eyes open, “i just wanted to ask you.”

“okay.” eddie said, curious and nervous.

clearly it was something important, for steve to be lying awake about it at this unholy hour. for him to wake eddie up about it, when he knows how much of a grump eddie is in the morning if he doesn’t get a full nights sleep.

“would…” steve cleared his throat and looked back up at the roof, “would you still love me if i was a worm?”

eddie tensed for a moment, “sorry… what?”

“if i was a worm.” steve said, like it was obvious

“yeah…?”

steve huffed, “if like, tomorrow i just woke up as a worm or something, would you still love me?”

eddie blinked a few times, pushed himself up to lean on his palm, “you woke me up for this?”

steve nodded, “it’s just been on my mind.”

steve seemed to genuinely care about the answer.

eddie smiled, reached forward to sweep his boyfriends hair back out of his eyes, “stevie, my love,” he said voice sticky sweet, a tenderness in his eyes that had steve’s stomach fluttering, “if you were a worm, and i was a bird, i’d pick you to eat first out of all the other worms in the world.”

and then he leant over and pressed a kiss to steve’s head and snuggled back into bed.

“love you, baby.” he muttered with closed eyes.

if you were a worm, i’d eat you first?

steve wanted to get mad, he really did. that’s not what he asked. he wanted to know if eddie would still love and take care of him. but he said it with such genuine sweetness that steve was conflicted. should he get mad, or should he fall deeper in love?

“eddie?” he asked again.

eddie huffed, “yes, stevie.”

“why would you pick me to eat first?” steve said.

eddie opened one eye to look at him, “because you’d be the tastiest worm, obviously.”

“but why?” steve asked.

eddie furrowed his brow, “because you would be the best looking worm in the world, and you’re so sweet on the inside it would be like a good bowel of lucky charms.”

woah, eddie really loved lucky charms. they were his most favourite cereal in the world, his most favourite breakfast, his most favourite snack. he was never allowed it as a kid because it was so unhealthy, so whenever he got it now he’d go crazy for the sugary treat.

lucky charms were eddie’s most favourite thing in the world to eat, and he just compared them to steve.

“probably better.” he mumbled again, eyes closed.

holy shit, no way! eddie said he’d be better than a good bowel of lucky charms?

steve couldn’t help the sickly sweet feeling that crept up inside him, the smile that worked it’s way to his lips. he loved eddie so much it made him dizzy.

“i’d eat you first too.” he said to eddie before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

eddie smiled, “i hope so.” he grinned, “have you seen my ass? best cake out there.”

steve shoved him and laughed.

“that’s exactly my reasoning.” steve curled into his boyfriends side.

eddie kissed steve’s temple, pulled him in close, “now sleep, no more waking me up.”

“love you, eddie.”

“love you too, wormie.”

oh yeah, eddie was it for him.

#jay writes #this just came out of nowhere fr #like i got this dumb idea by commenting something in someone’s tags and was like ima write a mini fic about it #i’ll link the post i rebloged from to inspire me #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie x steve #steve is a hopeless romantic and eddie is a weird gremlin and they match so well #steddie ficlet #stranger things #stranger things 4 #no monsters au #established relationship #steve is so gone on eddie it’s sickening #but eddie’s been even further gone on steve for longer #eddie is such a weirdo fr #steve just loves romance and all those little things so genuinely and wants them all with eddie and does them all with eddie #but eddie is a weirdo and so he reacts to them in very non romcomesque ways and it always catches steve off guard but it’s why he loves him #like the time he got eddie flowers for their anniversary and instead of putting them in a vase eddie tried to plant the flowers in a pot #or when steve tells him he loves him in public settings eddie gets so flustered he just bites stebe #or when eddie proposes he does it with a song but 90% of the song is just about how hard steve makes him & how good his mashed potatoes are #like he’s so unhinged and steve just folds every goddamned time #eddie is a menace and steve loves him so #fluff #super snuggly late night fluff

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padfootastic · 1 year

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Hello I have come to you with another Prongsfoot thought: James absolutely losing his mind when he comes home one day (or comes back to the dorm one day) to find Sirius wearing his jersey (and perhaps nothing else hehehe.)

oh but i’ve got just the thing for you, miss imp 😉 this is a headcanon i’ve had for the longest time, because james is absolutely the kind of person who loses his mind when his partner wears his name on them. and we already know anything sirius does is maddening for him sooooooo this is. a deadly combination.

(i’ve posted this before but it’s gotten lost in the Great Tumblr Archival System so i’m reposting it hehehehe)

“Alright, James, this can’t go on anymore,” Sirius said, voice firm, arms crossed across his chest. James blinked, eyes dragging up from where they’d been fixed on his collarbones, unusually exposed in the large jersey, to focus on furrowed brows and suspicious grey eyes.

“What can’t go on anymore?”

“This—whatever’s going on with you!” Sirius threw one arm out in emphasis. “You’ve been acting off the entire day, do you realise?”

James tilted his head in question, silently asking for him to elaborate. He knew he’s been…a little distracted, but it couldn’t have been so much as to call for this intervention, surely?

“James!” Sirius says, exasperated and really, that’s one too many times he’s called him by his full name. He can’t even remember the last time Sirius did that. “You crashed into a wall twice, tripped over Mrs. Norris’ tail and had to hide inside a suit of armor to avoid her claws—then you fell over in the damn thing and got a bump the size of an ostrich egg on your head. Five seconds ago, you almost plummeted off the staircase to your death and now you’ve been somewhere Not Here the entire time I’ve been talking. Seriously, what gives?”

Okay, maybe, put it that way, it sounded quite bad but James didn’t intend to be so scatter brained! He was having a perfectly decent time, had his head screwed on straight and then Sirius had to go and mess all that up! He was not prepared for the sight of him walking out of the shower, a cloud of steam escaping behind him. His hair was half wet and pulled back, cheeks flushed red from the heat and most importantly, he was wearing James’ Quidditch Jersey.

The one that was at least two sizes bigger than Sirius usual clothes. And the one that, when his best mate turned around, had POTTER emblazoned in huge letters across the shoulders. James had just stood there, jaw slack and fingers clenched around his tie, taking in the sight. He knew what his jersey looked like, had worn it hundreds of times, but he never knew it could be like this.

And that had just been the beginning. It seemed like with every passing hour, Sirius looked better in the damn thing than before which—shouldn’t be possible considering how extremely good he looked in the first place. Seriously, if James wasn’t as…confident as he was, he would’ve definitely gotten a complex by now. As it was, Wormtail always looked a bit peaky around Sirius. Just before their first class, Sirius’ had dried into his usual perfect curls, loose strands framing his face. By the time second rolled around, the jersey had slipped off one shoulder, exposing sharp collarbones. James didn’t even know bones could look so- so obscene but here he was, proven wrong. Right after lunch, Sirius had gotten frustrated with how much the fabric was flapping and had casually used his hair tie to knot it in the back.

This led to two things. First, his hair was now free to tumble around his face, leaving James with the strongest urge to run his hands through it, or perhaps even tick strands behind one ear. He only avoided doing so by utilising pressing his fingers into his palms to the point of pain. The second, more maddening, one was that now, it wasn’t just his unnervingly attractive shoulder but also his waist that was on tantalising display. Every time he stretched, or raised his hand in class, or ran a hand through his hair—the jersey would ride up until Sirius’ pale skin peeked through and honestly, was it really a wonder that James almost walked off the moving staircases the first time he got a glimpse of that happening?

The entire day was an exercise in making him lose his mind, he was certain. Somewhere, he had pissed off a deity and they wanted him to suffer because there was no other explanation for this. James had never been one to feel possessive. In fact, he loved sharing everything he had with the people around him. Their joy was his joy and all that. Hell, Sirius and him had been wearing each other’s clothes since first year when Sirius hadn’t had anything except uncomfortably formal robes for Christmas morning, which was an atrocity because everyone knew you wore ugly sweaters on the day so he’d given his to Sirius and DIY’d one for himself. Of course, as James started playing Quidditch and bulked up harder and faster than anyone could’ve predicted, it had decreased until the only things they really shared were robes and ties.

But seeing his name on Sirius? Plastered across his body, marking him as James’? He just knew, right there and then, that he could never go back. Now that he’d felt what it was like, that burning heat deep in his gut, the dizzying feeling of seeing Sirius look so…delicate—there was no way he couldn’t crave more of it. In his head, James had already started making plans for now he could, inconspicuously, get Sirius’ in his jersey more often. Because it absolutely has to happen again, James hasn’t had nowhere near enough of the sight.

“Jamie? James!” A hand waved in front of him, ripping him away from his pleasant daydreams of seeing Sirius in nothing but his jersey. His face flamed red, not even realising the direction his thoughts had travelled in until he blinked and saw Sirius standing in front of him, looking bemused and dressed perfectly respectably (James was trying very hard to ignore the skin visible just above his waistband.

“Er—sorry,” James said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Went away for a second there.”

“That’s exactly what I mean! You’ve been drifting away quite a bit today.”

“It’s not—Seriously, nothing’s wrong—“

“I never said it was,” Sirius said, shrewdly, making James immediately choke on his words as he tried to backtrack.

“No—That’s not…I mean—“ James’ teeth snapped shut with an incriminating ‘clack’ as Sirius steps closer to him, toed shoes touching at the tips. Close enough that they were breathing the same air, for James to see the shades of grey in Sirius’ eyes. Close enough that he could feel the movement of Sirius’ chest as he breathed deeply.

“Si?” he croaks, throat too dry all of a sudden.

“Won’t you tell me what happened, James?” Sirius’ voice was soft, pitched low and James had to strain his ears to hear him properly. He gulped unsteadily, eyes tracking the way Sirius tongue slipped out to wet his bottom lip, leaving a maddening shine behind.

“Si,” he said, again, tone matching Sirius’. One of his hands had, without his permission, travelled to the waist he’d been eyeing for the better part of the day. It was featherlight, barely even a touch, really, but the way Sirius shuddered when his hand made contact with warm skin was entirely too much for James’ already fraying self control. His fingers twitched, hard, in an attempt to stop but in the next second, they’d wrapped themselves entirely around the body in his arms. James’ forearm was pressed tight against Sirius’ back, their noses were mere inches away, and Sirius’ eyes were more than halfway shut.

James took a deep breath himself and let his hand press imprints into the curve of Sirius’ waist. The only response he got was the feeling of Sirius’ forehead pressing into his shoulder, arms wrapping around him in return.

It was then that James let his own shoulders unclench, let himself relax like he hadn’t the whole day. A soft smile lifted his lips as he thought about where to go from here

“You’ll wear this for me again, won’t you, darling?” he asked, pressing the question into Sirius’ dark curls with a kiss. He didn’t get a reply but he didn’t need one. Sirius’ hitched breath was enough of an answer for him.

#sirius black #james potter #bambibelle #prongsfoot #this is from months ago #but it’s one of my fav things #i’m so glad we’re on the same page here miss imp #bc james is just. floored.#also the light dom james vibes r *chefs kiss*#i love how shameless i am these days #not just reblogging but entirely reporting old stuff lmao #guess that’s what happens when ur in a ~dry spell #oh well #this scene of course leads into an established relationship where sirius stars doing this on purpose #WHILE wearing nothing else underneath #and bending over whenever possible (and even when not) bc he knows how much it affects james #especially in public #and love seeing him trying to hold onto his control (almost always unsuccessfully)#there’s a little vein that starts popping in his temple and his forearms flex delicious w how hard he clenches #yum #(miss imp pls never stop the asks/prompts—you’re my one source of inspiration lol)#pen’s asks #pen’s writing

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