So I'm Finishing 2022 Exactly How I Spend It.

So I'm finishing 2022 exactly how I spend it.

Overstimulated, crying, dehydrated and feeling invalid.

Happy New Year I guess.

#overstimulated #crying

Whenever you're ready

Summary: Silence spells only work, when the curtains are completely closed.

Word count: 530

Warnings: dom/sub relationship, mommy!kink, crying, use of (y/n)

A small paper bird landed on Remus' open book, unfolding as soon as it landed.

"This has been going on for over an hour now!" it said in James' handwriting.

Remus sighed and reached for his quill. "Let him have that little happiness. It's Christmas next week. You know how he hates that." He wrote on the parchment.

The ink faded and reappeared on Jaime's counterpart. "Besides, you don't have to act up. Like you and Lilly have never done it in this room before."

Promptly came the reply. "WE at least close the curtains RIGHT so no one can hear us." Remus glanced over at James' bed and saw him staring at him with an indignant expression. He had to hold on hard not to laugh.

It was a mystery to him how Peter could sleep through the whole spectacle, but hoped it would stay that way.

He turned back to the parchment and wrote. "If you interrupt them now, it will be insanely embarrassing for (y/n) and we might even ruin it for Padfoot then. He really likes her man. Ears closed and through." He saw James sigh quietly, but slump his shoulders in surrender.

Sirius and (y/n) had been together since the end of last year. She was quiet and seemed to ground him somewhat. He even ate greens since he knew her. She was truly one of a kind.

Remus was happy for him. It wasn't the first time anyone had sex behind closed curtains and under a silent spell in this room. Only, as James said, the curtains were otherwise completely closed, so the spell could work, but the blanket had parted the heavy red fabric a little, so they were listening to the sinphony of Sirius' moans. Remus could have guessed that the boy couldn't even keep his mouth shut while doing this. (Y/n) didn't make it easy for him either, though. For over an hour, she kept teasing him until he just whimpered, only to stop shortly befor he came.

Remus was about to turn to the next page when the wordless moaning was interrupted by one word.

"Mommy!" whimpered Sirius. James and Remus looked at each other abruptly. "Good boy." chimed (y/n)'s sighed retort. "Please." "Please what?" An exhilarated giggle was heard. "Words Siri." "Please let me come. Please. Please. Please. Mommy. Please. I was good. I'm a good boy. Please. Mommy. Mommy." "Shhh. Such a good boy to ask so sweetly. You may, whenever you're ready."

It wasn't even 10 seconds before there was an almost pathetic whimper, punctuated by rapid breathing. "Good. Come here." A sob was heard. "It's all right. I'm here. I'm holding you. Shhh. You were so good." "Thank you Mommy." There was only heavy breathing for a long time. 

"Am I your good boy?" whispered Sirius. "You're the best boy I could ask for." Even Remus feels comfortably warm at that soft voice.

Another sob. "I don't want to go there." "I know." "I want to stay with you." "Look at me... You can come whenever you're ready." "Mommy." "Yes. Mommy is always there for you, always loves you, flaws and all."

The Wallflower Dance

Summary: Reader flees from her parents ball. Sirius saves the day and her feelings.

Word count: 1.214

Warnings: little hurt, LOTS of comfort, mentions of buising (no violence is happening or happened)

The wallflower dance was probably the most humiliating tradition of my family. Only a man could have thought it up.

Every year it took place. Once at the summer solstice and once at the winter solstice. The girls and ladies were dragged onto the dance floors and nicely draped side by side. The trick? There was exactly one male counterpart too few. One girl would be left without a dance partner and she would be the wallflower for the rest of the evening. The wallflower would spend the rest of the evening on the edge of the dance floor watching. That was the tradition.

I had been the wallflower for 3 years, since my introduction to this nutty society. Every time. Six times I had stood on the sidelines. Each time hurt in a different way.

The first time, I was crushed. I had tried so hard with my dress and my hair. The second time, I wanted to cry. Again? Why? The third time, I was sure I was just too ugly for this tradition. The fourth time, I stood on the sidelines, snivelling, watching the girls dance as they floated across the floor like princesses. The fifth time, I wanted to refuse to attend the ball at all. The sixth time, I was annoyed and angry.

Today I stood on the dance floor again. I had no hope. I wondered what would happen if I just left now. My mother would behead me. That's what would happen.

The boys and men came onto the dance floors and grabbed a partner one by one. One jostled me briefly before motioning to the girl next to me.

I rolled my eyes. I waited for everyone to see that I was left again and silently left the floor.

I watched the girls dance and rammed my gloved nails into my upper arm.

If I at least knew that someone had been interested in me for once. But no. No one had ever asked me out, or treated me as anything other than one of the guys.

I felt my cheeks grow warm and a pressure build up behind my eyes. I quickly turned and ran out intonthe garden. The dance was still going on, but I was not willing to watch it again.

The thirteen-year-old girl with the soft heart and big hopes, unfortunately, was still sitting behind my eyes, looking disappointedly at her beautiful dress.

I tore the gloves from my fingers and threw them carelessly into one of the flowerbeds I was walking past.

I heard footsteps behind me. I walked faster. I didn't want my mother to see me crying.

As the footsteps came closer and closer, I called out annoyed: "I'm not doing this to myself again! Your daughter is ugly. Accept it!" I stopped petulantly, breathed heavily. "I was going to ask if you wanted to dance." I heard a voice behind me that definitely did not belong to my mother. I turned around slowly. Sirius Black was looking at me with pity. I was getting angry. "I don't want your pity," was all I said and turned back around.

"I would've asked you when we were fourteen, but my scarecrow of a mother never let me participate in that crap. She thinks I'm just embarrassing her again." I stopped and turned back around. Sirius almost ran into me, but caught himself just in time.

He looked at me kindly. "Hi.", he said just beaming. "Hi.", I replied hesitantly. "So? Dancing?" He grinned at me. I turned and strolled on. Without haste this time. "Wallflower.", I said, "I'm not allowed." "Technically, we're not on the ball," he smiled. I sighed and lifted my arms into position. Sirius grabbed me and put one foot forward to step on mine with conviction. I groaned slightly, but had to laugh.

Sirius smiled. Slight embarrassment lined his eyes. "There's a reason I wasn't allowed on the dance floors. I'm sorry." "That's okay." He shook his head. "I should have just asked you in school," he muttered. "Ask what?", I asked irritated. Sirius looked at me in wonder. "Well... For a date.", he answered as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

I laughed lightly. "Yeah right. After beauty queen Susan Mitchel the little (y/n)." I shook my head in amusement.

When I looked up into Sirius' face, however, I wasn't met with the approving grin I had expected, but only a more confused expression.

"I'm serious," he said. He let the light swing dance fade out. Now I was looking confused. "Really?", I asked dopily.

Sirius nodded. "Do you know that Susan doesn't look half as good as you do under all that makeup?" he asked me. "It takes her over an hour to look like that."

He gave me a friendly look before grinning. "And there's only room for one diva in a relationship, and that's me." He winked at me coquettishly. "I need time for my hair."

I smirked slightly. "I'm serious. Noone wants to see that rat's nest in the mornig." He lightly punched my upper arm.

A gesture that was meant to be encouraging, but only reminded me of how other guys liked to treat me like that. Like one of them. Not just once had I been darkly bruised.

My smile stiffened a bit, but I tried to keep it up. "You okay?" he asked uncertainly. "Yeah. Sure," I smiled.

Sirius faltered. "You probably don't want to go out... at all. With me... Well, you have to have that much arrogance first," he tried to lighten the situation with a laugh. He tried to lighten up the situation with a laugh.

"I would," I blurted out. "It's just...", I gestured to my shoulder, "I don't like it. Mostly it just hurts and..." I looked to Sirius, whose eyes grew wide in shock. "Not that you hurt me right now.... But with the others..." I sighed. "All the other girls get hugs, or they put an arm around their shoulders and then I get beaten green and blue for the greeting." I looked down at the floor. "It's meant nicely, but I hate it."

Sirius looked at me intently. "Who was the last boy to hug you?" he asked. "I don't think there ever was one," I reasoned as Sirius raised his arms in the air as well. "Can I be your first?" he smiled. I walked up to him, but was slightly unsure. To be honest, I had a hard time remembering any hug I'd ever gotten.

Sirius took over for me and wrapped his arms around me. 'He smells good,' it flashed through my mind. I unobtrusively sucked in the scent and let myself fall into the hug. He stroked my back gently. He was about to break away, but my arms remained wrapped around him. He took the hint and put his arms around me again.

"Are you at the Malfoys' this weekend?" he asked into my hair. "I'm afraid so," I mumbled into his shirt. His laughter vibrated through his chest before he gently pushed me off him after all. "How about a date? I know a good place to hide in the backyard." I nodded with a smile. "I'd love to."

New bedhead

Summary: Reader is nervos what Eddie thinks about her new haircut.

(Eddie x pixiecut!reader)

Warnings: slight anxiety

Word count: 511

Athours note: I was bullied a lot, when I was in school for having short hair, so I’m probably just trying to heal something with those stories. If your interested in a similar story, check my Steve Rogers fanfic ‘Can I touch your hair?:

https://www.tumblr.com/drmaddict/713015782573998080/can-i-touch-your-hair?source=share

I was nervous. Insanely nervous. I shouldn't be so nervous. After all, this was Eddie. I took a deep breath and forced my feet further toward the trailer.

Why I was so nervous? Well simple. I had been wearing a pixie cut on my head for about 30 minutes. An insanely short pixie cut. The idea came into my head months ago when I saw a photo of Linda Evangelista in a magazine. It looked great. She looked great and, yes, it was practical. Less time to dry them. Besides that, I only ever wore them tied up anyway, so in the end it wasn't like I did much with my long hair.

In a big city, probably no one would have looked twice at me, but in Hawkins? Hawkins was just still more conservative after all. God what had I done? What's going to happen in school? Everyone's just going to bitch about it again. Damn it, I wasn't a model.

Completely lost in thought, I didn't even notice how I was suddenly standing in front of Eddie's trailer. Damn it. I took a deep breath. Eddie is Eddie. Eddie likes anything that's different. Eddie must think it's great. Eddie had great hair. Damn.

I carefully pushed open the door and peeked around the corner. Eddie appeared to be in his room.

"Eddie?", I called out cautiously.

"Back here!" he replied. No question, he was either working on the next campaign or a new song.

I walked tentatively to his room. "I may have done something stupid.", I babbled before stepping into the room. "Please be nice, okay?", I asked hesitantly.

"Why? Do you have a face tatoo now or- WOAH!" he interrupted his sentence as I stepped around the corner.

He literally jumped up from his chair and came over to me. "Your hair is gone!" he exclaimed excitedly and immediately put his hands on the short stubble. I noticed tears trying to gather in my eyes. "That's so cool!" he exclaimed, rubbing his hands over my head with childlike glee.

He tore his gaze away from my hair and looked at me. "Why didn't you say something? That's so metal! ... Are you all right? You look like you're sick. Oh do you have your period, do you want me to make the funny tea? I can get the hot water bottle too."

This made me giggle. I shook my head and wrapped my arms around his torso. "I'm fine. I was just nervous." I breathed in his scent. "I was afraid you might not like it after all."

"Don‘t like it? You look hot! Babe that's awesome." He rested his cheek on my head and chuckled. "That tickles."

He broke away from me slightly and pressed a powerful kiss to my lips. "And now I want to know what your new bedhead looks like," he grinned, practically tossing me onto the bed and himself right behind. "This hairdo is going to be broke in now.", he grinned wiggling his eyebrows and pulling his shirt over his head.

How exactly do you explain to your family that you only had a meltdown because music you hate was played too loud at the family New Year's Eve party and everything was too much and you actually didn't want to react that way, but you're just mentally unstable? How exactly would one do something like that, if the actual reason is not comprehensible for most people?

Asking for a friend?