#smoke this weekend and then not smoke or smoke way less next week

[milo-is-rambling]

I don’t think I can remember the last day I wasn’t high the whole time

[frmisnow]

play pretend ! ₊⟡⋆ nsfw.

the premise of fake dating your best friend, for just a weekend, is hilarous.. and scary. but what happens after is even scarier.. it's just play pretend right?

warnings / includes — sex, heavy fwb themes, bit of angst

shame coated you when you woke up in one of the guest rooms, carefully placed onto the bed at about 3am by no other then jungkook while you were dead hungover. pure rotten shame rests in your cheeks, paints them red when you say bye to his family a few hours later as jungkook couldn't quite even look at you.

everything about him was different. the way he moved around you, the way he avoided looking directly at you. hell, even his voice sounded quieter, less confident, like he didn’t know what to do either.

something had changed him, for the worse.

and it was all your damn fault.

you had thought the car ride would give you both time to defrost, pretend that whatever happened the night earlier did in fact not happen, crack some jokes but to no avail — long, defening silence.

silence and shame don't go well together, the color they create on the canvas of yours, it soaked through you. stayed with you for the next five days, it's the color of the message you send him at 11 pm on saturday, asking him how he was doing.

it's the ugly color of the 'delivered' button that stays there for the following two days.

the dress you wear to the next party is bright, anything to drown out the guilt that was eating you alive.

the music is loud, and so are you. laughing a little too hard, moving a little too close to anyone who shows you attention. you take another sip of whatever is in your cup, the liquid burning its way down your throat but dulling the ache in your chest.

and then there’s him.

you don’t see Jungkook immediately, but you feel him before your eyes catch his across the room. you feel the way the air shifts, the way your stomach churns when you notice the familiar set of his jaw, the way his eyes flicker toward you.

you almost drop your drink.

because it feels like a candid flashback of that night—only now it’s all so different. why did things have to be so complicated?

you’re pressed against some guy you barely know, his lips grazing your neck in a way that should distract you. you’ve been letting it happen, letting him flirt, letting his hands wander because it’s easier than thinking about the mess you left unresolved.

but then there’s jungkook. he stands on the other side, the neon light painting his face; his look wasn't judging. maybe light disappointment but more observing then anything, really. and it reminded you of how you used to stare at him whenever he was going after various girls at these exact sorts of parties.

it makes you sick, makes the unfamilar hands on your body feel foul and uninviting, it's not the fire burning through you like it had that night, it's cold ice, slowly creeping through your veins, making it's way to your brain.

said ice whispers things you don't want to hear, reminds you of things you don't want to think about.

"fuck, i think i like you."

you run of upstairs to the nearest balcony, the house was familar one of your mutual friends', this place was where you used to play spin the damn bottle in high school. now it feels haunted, just as univiting as the guy's hands felt a few minutes ago, why did everything feel so distant now? first jungkook, now everything else. why was it so consuming?

you light up a cigarette, you didn't usually smoke but you wanted to feel that fire again, the warmth, the pure need from a week ago. you regreted not having fucked the guy because you were sure he could've made you forget for longer then this cig could.

“thought I might find you here,” he says behind you, kneeling next to you yet keeping a safe distance, his voice low and cautious.

"you shouldn't have," you respond coldly, because anger is a better emotion to feel then regret and you had plenty things to be frustrated about, "you've been avoiding me for a whole week, don't pretend like you give a fuck." you don't meet his eyes, just take another drag.

but you see him flinch in the corner of your eye. great, the guilt sits in you once again.

he shifts slightly, and you can feel the tension radiating off him , “i know I’ve been a jerk, but it’s not that simple—”

“then make it simple.” your voice is sharper than you intended, but the hurt has festered for too long. you finally turn to face him, “i need to know what you want. because this? whatever this is? it’s fucking misery.”

the words hang heavily in the air, and for a moment, silence stretches between you. jungkook looks like he’s grappling with his thoughts, the tension in his body palpable. then, slowly, he closes the distance between you, his eyes softening as he cups your face in his hands.

“can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice a whisper, as if the question itself is laced with vulnerability.

you nod, and the moment your lips touch, it’s like everything else fades away. the kiss starts soft, gentle, as if he’s savoring the moment, and you can feel your heart begin to race.

it's nothing like the previous fire you had wished to experience earlier, it's delicate warming sunlight, brushing over your skin, washing away the hideous color that had built over the last few days.

“friends with benefits,” he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot and sweet. “we get to have this-” he kisses you again, slow and lingering, “—without the pressure of expectations.”

“expectations?” you echo, your mind racing as you try to process his words.

“yeah,” he replies, his lips brushing against yours, each touch sending shivers down your spine. “we can enjoy each other without worrying about where it’s going. just... pure fun.” his hands toy with the hem of your dress, before returning your gaze.

time slips quick, it all feels so raw, so different from that night yet all so much better.

his hands grip your thighs, pulling you closer, driving deep inside you with a primal urgency. you can feel the way he fills you, stretching you perfectly. you're so glad you aren't drunk, that you'll remember this in the morning and the day after.

you claw at his back, nails digging in, urging him on, needing more, wanting all of him. and he curses, runs his mouth like the talkative brat you knew he always was, degrades you one second, tentatively kisses your cheeks the next.

his hands rest on your tighs as he kisses along your clit once again, sweet, real. taunts you 'for the mess you made on your friend's coach' but he doesn't give you time to feel guilty, just starts nuzzling his face back into your pussy, licking along.

no, jungkook will never make you feel the same guilt again. you're sure of it, well — not that you could really properly think under these conditions anyway.

[morganwrites12672]

Crush

Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: The sorority girl that Sam has had a crush on for ages approaches him at a party one night.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: 18+ Sorority Girl!Reader. Drinking. Smoking. It's a party. Smut. Fingering (f!receiving). Unprotected sex (bad idea, don't try this at home).

A/N: MINORS DNI also, thank you to @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles for beta reading and helping with some of this for me!

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The music was blasting throughout the house. Everyone had already drank too much. Well, almost everyone. She had been drinking soda all night. Being the designated driver was something she didn't mind doing. It was difficult though. Sorority girls were a fucking nightmare after a couple of shots.

Most of her Saturday nights were spent like this. The only difference was that by now she had usually gone upstairs with a guy. She leaned against the doorframe in the kitchen, watching the party. She took a sip of her soda. It was late, she was starting to get bored.

Parties weren't near as much fun sober. Probably because they had no real appeal. Without the liquor coursing through her veins all she saw was a bunch of idiots getting shit faced. She didn't think much of it. Next week, whenever one of her sorority sisters would be on designated driver duty, she would have a blast. Get shit faced, hookup. Anything she wanted. Anyone she wanted.

Being a sorority girl had benefits.

She threw her empty solo cup into the kitchen trash can before venturing back out to the party. She weaved her way through all of the drunk college kids. Knowing that she looked just like them on any other weekend made her feel a bit stupid. She ignored those thoughts. They wouldn't prevent her from partying next weekend. She needed to have something to look forward to after a week of hell.

She made her way to an area with less people; right beside the staircase. She noticed a man with shaggy brown hair and smiled. She could tell that he wasn't from one of fraternity's around here, or on the football team. That didn't seem to bother her for some reason.

She gave him a smile, her glossed lips shimmering in the lights of the party. "What's your name?" She asked him, eyes taking him in. He made her stomach do a back flip. The feeling was. . . oddly unusual. It almost made her do a double take.

The mans cheeks turned a soft shade of pink before he replied. It wasn't that hard for her to notice how flustered he was. She found it adorable. Again, something oddly unusual. She usually chose guys with a lot more confidence.

"Uh, Sam." His words were nearly drowned out by the music of the party. He realized how quiet his words had came out and repeated them a bit louder. His eyes drank her in. He couldn't believe that she was talking to him. The girl he'd had a crush on for most of his time at Stanford.

"It's nice to meet you, Sam." She replied before giving him her name. She fixed a piece of hair that had fallen into her face, pushing it behind her ear so that it wouldn't bother her any longer. "Did you come here alone?" She asked, her curiosity getting the best of her.

"N-no. My friend made me come," He replied. He ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair to fix his messy bangs. Her eyes lingered as she watched him. He noticed her gaze and his blush deepened.

His words made her smile brighten, "I take it that means you're available?" She asked. She wanted to confirm that he was single. She might get called a slut but that doesn't mean that she goes after guys in a relationship. It's not her fault that most lie.

Sam's eyes went wide. His heart hammered in his chest. He stuffed his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. Was she seriously asking him that question? He had known who she was before she'd introduced herself. Who didn't? She was pretty and popular. Sam had always hidden a tiny crush on her. Well, him and half of the other guys at this school.

"I-I am."

"Good," she said with a smile. She fixed her dress, pulling the hem down from where it had ridden up on her thighs. She loved the dress she was wearing. It was gorgeous and fit her body like a glove. The only issue was how much of a pain it was to keep pulling it down all night. It was worth it though.

"You look nice," Sam said, having built up an ounce of courage (which has already vanished). He was nervous as hell. Confidence wasn't his strong suit.

She leaned in a bit closer. "Thanks. You look great yourself," She replied. She couldn't take her eyes off of him. He looked like a god damn dream. She wondered how she hadn't noticed him before tonight.

Sam's eyes lingered on the way her sparkly eyeshadow gleamed in the light. He couldn't help but admire her. She was fucking gorgeous tonight, and any other night. He thought she looked incredible no matter where he saw her, or what she wore. She was perfect in his eyes.

"I'm gonna kiss you now, okay?" She said, making sure that he was okay with it. It wasn't often that she was the one to make the first move. She enjoyed it. Usually guys were pawing at her body with their tongues down her throat before even asking her name. Sam was different.

When Sam stayed silent she pressed her lips against his. She guided one of his hands to rest on her hip. She deepened the kiss, her tongue slowly sliding into his mouth. His lips tasted like cheap beer and Carmex.

He let out a soft groan as she kissed him harder. He let her have most of the control, going along with her movements. He let his hand gently squeeze her hip. She didn't seem to mind.

She pulled away after a minute, wanting to see the look on his face. The look on his face made her want to drag him upstairs that very second. His cheeks were a perfect shade of pink, his mouth hung open slightly, and his eyes were wide. She noticed the way his hazel eyes stared at her lips.

She noticed a smudge of pink gloss on his upper lip and wiped it away with her thumb. It made his blush deepen even more. Every touch from her had his body on fire. He has a chance with a girl he'd had a crush on for a while, he couldn't screw this up.

"That was-" she began to say but was cut off whenever Sam kissed her. She let out a small gasp against his lips. She hadn't expected him to do something like that. Not that she minded, not one bit.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and threaded her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. He moaned into the kiss as she gently tugged on the hair she had been playing with. She walked a few steps backwards, all while still kissing Sam.

Whenever her back hit the wall, she leaned her head back to catch her breath. Sam pressed a cautious kiss to her collarbone. Her body arches into his touch and a smile spread over his lips. He kissed his way up to her jaw line, not yet brave enough to leave an actual hickey. Soft kisses would have to do for now.

"Let's take this upstairs," She said with a smile. Her lip gloss was smudged. She knew it, and didn't give a fuck. She would fix it later. Sam took a step back from her so that she could lead the way. He wasn't sure if she had a specific room in mind.

She walked past him, grabbing his hand as she walked. They walked last a couple drunkenly making out on the stair case, she rolled her eyes. At least she had the decency to get a room. Well, whenever she was sober. Tonight was making her rethink how often she drank. And how wasted she got. Maybe Sam would be a better influence on her.

She walked to the end of the hallway, finding a door that didn't have any noises coming from behind it. She gave sams hand a soft squeeze before opening the door and walking inside. She wasn't used to guys treating her this way. Sam made her feel special, even if she's barely even met him.

The door was shut and locked as soon as they had both stepped inside. She looked up at Sam, admiring every feature of his face. She couldn't help herself. He looked at her in a way that made her feel special. She didn't feel like some cheap hookup. She felt like he wouldn't leave her the second he got his fill.

Her hands went to the top button off his shirt. She paused though. Her eyes met his. "I'm going to take this off now, okay?" She said to him.

"Y-yeah. Okay" Sam's breath caught in his throat as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt. She wasn't ripping his clothes off. No, she was taking her sweet time. She wanted to enjoy every second of this. And she would.

As she was unbuttoning his shirt, she leaned up to kiss him again. His hand rested on her hip for a moment before resting on her ass. The two made their way to the bed, their lips never separating. It seemed as though breaking the kiss for even a second would be the end of the world right now.

She laid back on the bed. Sam's shirt had fallen to the floor sometime during the short walk over to the bed. He looked down at her with a smile. She was beautiful. He would never get tired of this view. He could only hope that he'd get the chance to see her again.

She sat up before adjusting the pillows behind her. She leaned back, half sitting up. Sam moved towards her and his hand gently cupped her jaw before kissing her again. She grabbed his wrist and guided his hand to her thigh.

She let her hands drift to the waistband of his jeans. She palmed his growing erection through the thick material. He broke the kiss, whimpering against her lips. The beautiful sound made her chuckle softly.

"You like that, huh?" She asked with lustful eyes. Every sound that Sam made had her going crazy.

Sam's cheeks turned red and he didn't reply, his gaze drifting down to the cleavage visible with how low cut her dress was. His eyes widened slightly. He didn't like how easily she was able to fluster him.

"Have you done this before?" She asked. She wanted to make sure that he wasn't about to lose his virginity at a shitty party.

"I-I have," Sam replied a bit quieter. It has been his first year at Stanford with some girl in his old English class. It hadn't been at a party like this though. No, the girl had been over at his apartment to study.

"Can I touch you?" Sam asked as his gaze went even lower. "Please?" He added. His eyes couldn't budge from her thighs. Her dress had ridden up whenever she had sat up against the pillows.

She smiled and pushed her dress up over her hips before spreading her legs for him. Sam grazed his fingers over her black underwear. He looked up at her to see her reaction.

Her breathe caught in her throat. Her core was throbbing. She was desperate for his touch. She noticed his hesitancy. She lifted her hips up a bit and he retracted his hand. She slid her underwear off.

"It's okay, you can touch me." Her words were gentle as she guided his hand to in between her thighs.

Sam slid a finger through her wetness and she gasped. She let her head fall back on the pillows, her hair sprawling out around her. Sam's touch was cautious. She grabbed his wrist and made his fingers prod at her entrance.

"U-use your ring finger first."

Sam followed her instructions, gently pushing his ring finger inside of her. He heard her gasp and looked up. He pushed his finger in all of the way and she groaned.

"Now c-curl it."

She moaned as he followed her instructions. The noise made Sam freeze for a moment. The second she bucked her hips against his hand he went back to curling his finger inside of her tight cunt. The noises coming out of her had his cock straining against his jeans. He attempted to ignore it as he curled his finger a little faster.

She gently wrapped her fingers around his wrist and he froze. She guided his hand so that his ring finger was now curling while thrusting in and out of her wet cunt. She moaned again, he was a fast learner even if his previous experience was more limited than hers.

"Ah-Add another," She gasped as she felt heat build up in her core. She felt Sam slip his middle finger inside of her. She rocked her hips in time with the thrusting of his fingers. Moans escaped her throat as he worked her open. "Fuck! Just like that."

"D-do you like this?" Sam asked. "I-i mean it sounds like you do but. . . I want to make sure I'm doing. . . this. . .right," He stuttered, not stopping his movements. Her cunt squeezed around his fingers.

"Y-yes!" She moaned. "J-just like that. You're doing such a good job for me," She gasped. She grabbed his other hand and moved it to her clit. He seemed to understand what she wanted and began rubbing sloppy circles on her puffy clit.

Her thighs had a slight tremble as her cunt squeezed his fingers even more. His fingers rubbing her clit sent jolts of pleasure throughout her body. She could feel her orgasm creeping up on her.

"I'm close!" She moaned as she clamped down around his fingers. Her head fell back as her orgasm washed over her. Sam felt her walls tighten around his fingers as her moans increased in volume. He kept thrusting his fingers, riding her through her orgasm as her moans grew more strained. She grabbed his wrist as a signal for him to stop. The overstimulation left her cheeks flushed.

His fingers slipped from her sopping hole, and his eyes flicked to her face, wide with awe. She took his wrist in her hand, guiding it to her mouth, and sucked on his fingers, letting her eyes flutter closed, she swirled her tongue around his fingers. A low moan escaped her throat at the taste of herself. Her eyes fluttered open and she giggled at the sight of Sam. She couldn't help herself. His mouth was hanging down for God's sake.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair, as she pulled him down to her level. Her lips pressed against his. Sam was still frozen in a combination of shock and awe. He thought all of the noises that he had pulled out of her. As they kissed, her tongue invaded his mouth. Sam let out a small, needy whimper as she kissed him.

She sat up, pushing him down onto the bed before straddling his waist. Her hands went to the zipper of his jeans. She looked up at him. Sam's face and chest were flushed, his lips were red and slightly puffy, he already looked so fucked out and she had barely even touched him. She didn't waste any time in unzipping his pants. Sam lifted his hips and helped her get rid of the constricting material.

She teased him over his boxers. A strangled moan escapes Sam's throat as she ran her fingers over his clothed erection. His head dropped down onto the pillows, she gazed at his exposed throat. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the smooth expanse of delicate skin. Sam's breath hitched in his throat at the feeling of her lips.

"P-please. . . Please," Sam practically whimpered.

She let out a soft chuckle. "Please. . . what?" She continued her movements, gently running her fingers over his clothes erection. "I need you to use your words for me, sweetheart."

Sam's hips buck up, desperate for more. "P-please," He moans out. His chest heaves as he fights to keep his breathing even. "I need you to f-fuck me."

She tugged on the waistband of his boxers. Sam quickly lifted his hips so that she could rid him of the pesky material. She wrapped her hand around the base of his cock and gave it a light squeeze. She admired the pretty pink tip, leaking precum.

She lifted her hips before lining up her entrance with the tip of his cock. She had to admit, he was definitely larger than most guys she'd slept with. She wasn't going to tell Sam that though. She studied his expression with a small smile on her face. Sam watched her every move with his jaw slack, quiet moans leaving his throat.

She sinks down on him and his hands fly to her hips. She places one of her hands on his chest for support. She moans as she slowly sinks down. The stretch is a burn that quickly fades into an ache for more.

"F-fuck," She moaned out, adjusting to his size.

Sam was a beautiful mess beneath her. His hands squeezed her hips, just for something to hold onto. His body quivered ever so slightly. She felt so fucking tight around his cock. She'd barely even started and he could already feel heat forming in his stomach.

He moaned out her name as she rocked her hips. "P-please," He gasped as she lifted her hips up before dropping back down. Every thrust of her hips had him begging for more. The feeling of her tight cunt wrapped around him was almost too much.

He let one hand fall from her hip and slide in-between her legs. As his fumbling fingers found her clit, she let out a small gasp. Her eyes met his. It was the most gorgeous sight Sam had ever seen. Her tits bounced with every thrust of her hips, her lips were parted as she let out another moan, every piece and part of her was perfect.

How had he gotten this lucky? He never would have thought that she ever find out he even existed. Let alone wind up in bed with him. The view in front of him was like something from one of his wildest fantasies.

"Y-you look. . . s-so perfect," Sam half moaned, half whimpered as his fingers rubbed tight circles on her clit. He experimented with the speed. Whenever he hears her breath hitch in her throat he knew that he was doing it right.

She struggled to keep up her current pace with the way that Sam's cock hit that place inside of her cunt that practically made her see stars. Her lower abdomen was on fire. If Sam didn't slow down she might come quicker than she had been expecting.

"F-fuck! Just like that," She cried out.

Sam might not be the most experienced guy ever, but he was definitely a quick learner. The hand that wasn't on her clit went to her chest. He gently massaged one of her breasts. The soft skin felt like heaven beneath his hand. He squeezed her nipple and she moaned even louder. He was carefully watching every reaction she had, making sure that he was doing all of this right.

"Y-you feel so good," He whimpered.

His back arched up from the bed as he felt her walls tighten around him. He could feel his orgasm creeping up on him. His hips bucked up, meeting her thrusts. The action made her cry out.

"I-I'm. . . I'm about to come," Sam whimpered, his chest heaving.

His fingers had found a steady pace on her clit. Every circle of his fingers sent white hot pleasure coursing throughout her body. The way his hands carefully gripped at her chest. He soon moved the hand that had been on her chest, to her hips. He attempted to help guide her thrusts. She seemed to be tiring out.

"M-me too," She replied with a moan. She could feel his cock twitch inside of her. His eyes rolled back as his grip on her hips tightened. It only made her work harder. She was so fucking close. Sam wouldn't be able to last any longer.

He cried out from the overstimulation as her tight walls clenched around his cock, her own orgasm making her thrusts shaky. She felt pleasure overtake her body as Sam kept circling her clit with his no longer ungraceful fingers.

She guided his hand away as she slowly rocked her hips, basking in the subtle feeling of overstimulation. She slowly sat up before she stops. Her legs had a slight quiver as she walked into the bathroom. The loud music of the party was muted through the door. Though, it was obvious that the party was not even close to being finished for the night.

"Do you want to hop on the shower with me?" She asked with a smile. Sam's eyes went wide (for the hundredth time that night) before he climbed off the bed. He was standing at her side in seconds.

"T-that sounds nice."

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A/N: Don't forget to leave a comment or reblog if you enjoyed it!

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[musingsofahufflepuff]

Just a Glimpse of Us

ex!Mattheo Riddle x gn!reader, Theodore Nott x gn!reader; angst

summary: after a particularly rough break up with mattheo, theodore is there to pick up the pieces. he’s the perfect boyfriend in theory, so why do you wish it was your ex instead?

a/n: while the reader is currently dating theo, this isn’t really about him (sorry bby ily). our focus today is matt. he’s a bit of a dick for the majority and says a couple of insensitive things. the happy ending won, so here it is, happy valentine’s day ♡

Only 2 weeks after your relationship ending fight with Mattheo Riddle, Theodore Nott asked you out. You said yes.

It had taken you a week longer than it had for Mattheo.

You weren’t entirely sure why you had said yes. The pessimist in you said it was only because you were hurt. The optimist in you meekly thought different.

Theodore was attractive and surprisingly gentle with you. In the days following the break up, he frequently sought you out in the nooks of the castle you started to escape to. The times when you couldn’t keep yourself together, he held you as you broke down in tears and didn’t let go until the pain subsided. His chest was warm and sturdy and safe. The scent of smoke lingered on him hauntingly similar to the way it hung to Mattheo, permeating his clothes and your soul.

He was there by your side when you stumbled on a Ravenclaw girl practically chewing Mattheo’s face off out in the hall in front of god and everyone, 3 days post breakup. Part of you knew he wanted you to see.

A piece of you died that day.

The following weekend party ended with you in Theodore’s bed. Maybe you wanted Matt to walk in his dorm and see you with one of his best friends. Maybe you wanted him to feel the same festering wound you had been living with since he had stormed out of your life.

He never did come back that night.

A week after Mattheo broke your heart a second time, Theodore found you sitting in the astronomy tower, knees to your chest, staring at the view of the valley. He sat next to you, arm easing its way across your shoulders as you leaned into him. He had seemed nervous, so unlike his usual stoic and relaxed demeanor.

“Would you want to maybe go to Hogsmeade with me tesorino?”

The pessimist in you was right.

That was a month ago. A month of dating Theodore Nott. You were less sad at least. Or maybe you were just more numb.

Despite sitting at the Slytherin table with Theodore and your friends, you weren’t really present. You were vaguely aware of his hand resting on your side and the unintelligible chattering filling in the background noise of aimless thoughts. Your eyes were facing the rest of the Great Hall, but you were looking through it. You used to sit here with all the same people but Mattheo always used to be here too. You hadn’t seen him during meals or class lately. He would sling his arm around your waist during meals like this. Theodore’s touch burns.

Before your mind can drift off too far as to what he could possibly be up to recently, the doors to the great hall open with a thud.

It takes a few blinks to get your eyes to focus back and when they do, you’re greeted to a bored looking Mattheo, arm loosely resting on—what appears to be a Hufflepuff—girl’s shoulder.

Theodore’s grip on you tightens and a kiss is pressed to your temple. Matt’s eyes rake over to where you’re sat and you can’t quite figure out what he’s thinking. As quickly as he looked your way, he directs his attention elsewhere.

“You okay tesorino? You got tense,” Theodore speaks softly above your ear.

With an exhale you smile up at him, “I’m okay Teddy.” He’s looking at you like you placed the moon in the sky for his enjoyment and it reminds you of brown eyes that had once looked at you the same way.

Pushing the thought from your mind, you press a firm kiss on his lips- searching for butterflies or fireworks or something when he returns the motion.

You find none.

“Nott? Really sweetheart? You can do better than that.”

Mattheo’s voice stabs through you, making you involuntarily jerk to a halt. It had been so long since you’d heard his voice. You try to regain your breath before turning to face him. He’s standing in the middle of the hall, cocky smile on his face. You had forgotten how arrogant he could be, used to his sweet smiles and soft eyes reserved only for you. You desperately longed for it. That Matt was long gone, just a whisper you were still hopelessly trying to grasp onto.

He raises an eyebrow when you make no attempt to respond, seemingly expecting a snarky remark. He takes a couple strides toward you. He baits you again, “I guess I can see why you hang around him, he follows you around like a pathetic dog.” You bite.

“At least I’m not a manwhore who jumps in the first skirt offered to him,” the calm in your tone surprises you, your entire soul feels like it could shatter any moment. “What do you want Riddle?”

Something flashes across Matt’s face for the briefest of moments. So subtle only you would have noticed it.

Before he can respond Theodore is by your side, “why don’t you say that shit to my face next time.”

“And here’s the guard dog now. Have to say, didn’t expect my best mate to lap up my sloppy seconds.”

Tears sting in your eyes at his unexpected cruelty. Then the sound of a fist cracking bone is making you jump. You cover your mouth with your hands as blood starts pouring out of Mattheo’s nose. A crowd has started to form around the three of you and you’re grabbing Theodore’s arm that’s getting ready to take another swing.

Matt’s face is hard to read. He doesn’t immediately react to his apparently broken nose nor the blood staining his uniform. Instead his eyes are locked on you.

You force your voice to work, “c’mon Teddy, it’s not worth it.”

He snaps his head towards you in bewilderment. “Tesorino you heard what he just said about you, right?” Your heart aches at his concern only for you, your gaze shifting to meet Mattheo. The same aching heart reminds you he would have done the same for you once upon a time.

Those pretty brown eyes convince you that you don’t want to see his face anymore beaten than it already was.

“Please Teddy, let’s just go.” You look up at Theodore’s face and tug on his arm.

He relaxes his stance and gives you a nod, letting you lead him away. You do your best to not look back at Mattheo.

However you can’t help the quick glance over your shoulder; seeing Matt looking at you, ironically, like a kicked puppy.

You cry yourself to sleep that night, locked in Theodore’s suffocating embrace.

Monday night finds you back in the astronomy tower, cigarette in your fingers. You had swiped it from Theodore’s stash before classes this morning. It wasn’t the same brand Matt used. Knowing Nott, it was probably higher quality.

You turn the stick in your hand, blinking back tears. Thoughts of your time up here with Matt swirl around your head, making it hard to breathe.

There at the top of the tower surrounded by the cool night, you break.

It happens all at once. No build up, just a shatter. Sobs rack through your body and an animalistic cry of pure pain and despair forces its way out of you.

Mattheo pushes himself off the leather couch he sat on in the common room. Enzo looks up at him with furrowed eyebrows. He pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and flashes it at the boy, “need a smoke, wanna come with?”

He gets a small head shake no in response before he turns to leave the dungeons.

The walk up to the astronomy tower is familiar and would be comforting in different circumstances. As he starts climbing up the stairs he hears broken sobs echo through the tower. He hesitates thinking it might be best to leave the person alone, but his concern wins out and he treks onward. To say he’s shocked when he sees it’s you is an understatement. Heart rate picking up at the thought of you being hurt, he makes his way over.

At the sound of his footsteps, in between sobs you choke out, “please leave Theo, I want to be alone.”

“I’m not Theo, sorry to disappoint,” the words are slightly joking but his tone is gentle.

You lift your head up to look at him, eyes red and tear tracks staining your cheeks. His heart aches. He settles himself down next to you, giving you space.

You sit together in silence for a few moments, his mere presence wrapping itself around you like a childhood blanket, tattered and long lost. You feel some semblance of peace for the first time in months.

“I’m sorry,” he ducks his head down, shame overtaking him. “You didn’t deserve the way I treated you.”

He tilts his head to look at you, eyebrows knitting together. He almost looks like he could cry. “You’re not my sloppy seconds and Theo isn’t a dog, I just-“ he goes back to avoiding your eyes and blinks a couple times, a tear rolling down his cheek. You reach out and gently wipe it away with your thumb. It has the unintended consequence of making more tears start to fall.

“I was angry and hurt and I guess the only way I know how to express that is by hurting everyone around me.” Your soul shouts at you to reach out for him, but you hold back.

“I think about you all the time,” he’s curled in on himself in the way you’ve only ever seen him do when he talks about his home life. “I miss you so much.”

His eyes squeeze shut in an attempt to stop crying, fingers digging into his biceps. You know him too well, can read his actions like you were reading his mind.

You pull him into your arms.

It’s easy to tell you made the right decision when he instantly relaxes in your embrace, instinctively pushing his head against your chest like he had done so many times before. His voice comes out quieter when he says, “I don’t expect you to forgive me, lord knows I wouldn’t.”

A small smile works its way onto your face as you speak to him for the first time since the fight in the hallway, “you’ve always been the type to hold a grudge. And I know you’d never admit it, but it’s because you care.”

“I’m sorry for kissing that girl, I don’t even know her name. I thought it would fill the hole in me, but it didn’t. Then I saw you with Theo at the party and—“ his voice cracks. You tighten your grip, a hand coming up to run through his curls.

You release a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding, “I told Theo that I couldn’t keep seeing him today. I felt like I was using him, cause he’s not you.”

Matt pulls himself out of your embrace to cup your face in his hands, dark eyes swimming with unshed tears and that gentle look he used to give you. The one where you could see the longing, the raw need for your touch and love and approval and very essence of your being. It was vulnerable and gave away just how deeply sorry he was for hurting you.

You were drawn to him as you had always been, a planet orbiting a sun that gave off such warmth and fiery passion but could also burn magnitudes of pain that was near incomprehensible.

“I can’t fix the damage I’ve done, but I want to spend my life making it up to you. And I’ll do everything in my power to make amends with Theo. Please, let me be part of your life again.”

“Matty, I want to, but I don’t want to feel like that again. It was hell,” your voice catches on the last part, a stray tear escaping. Gentle lips are pressed on your cheek where the tear was.

“I will never make you feel that way again. And I give you full permission to use an unforgivable if I don’t keep my promise. Fuck, I’ll take an unbreakable vow if that’s what you want, love.”

You can’t hold back anymore, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that rivals the most beautiful sunsets, warmth rushing over you. This is what home feels like.

[jolalibrary]

epilogue. she might just be my everything and beyond

javier peña x f!reader | epilogue of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: here's the epilogue. two idiots pining for one another. fluff. flirting. continuous romcom vibes. falling in love. idiots in love. mention of olivia (steve's and connie's child) ✨ wordcount: 2.7k.

an: at the end.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

you keep flirting with me and ill drive myself over

Oh will you now?

use my key and everything

You have had very little reason to use it lately.

thats cause youre so desperate youre already at the door

Desperate or welcoming?

both

I can be less desperate next time, if you prefer.

dont you fucking dare baby

So when you coming over?

already putting my shoes on

It flies by, time.

One minute, he’s clutching your hands until your fingers slide from his. A promise in the air, one he knows you’ll keep because it's all temporary. Knowing that you’ll be right back, suitcase—and possessions following behind—as you move across the country. 

Within a blink, Javi is asking you where you want things to go, in the little place you chose with so much ease. Spotting you unpack a photo frame, the photo strip from Houston front and centre, sitting on a bed of receipts. 

The next, he’s sweating for reasons he’d rather not be.

His back twinging, protesting as he carries another box to the van. Your smile rises at the sight of him approaching, gesturing to pass it to you—still standing on the edge of the truck.

“Cariño. You’ve lived here six months. How have you amassed so much sh–tuff?”

Narrowing your eyes, taking the box and placing it on top of another, “Nice save.”

Sending you a sink, he smiles as you slide your hand in his to get down. Knowing he doesn’t ever need to feel them slide from his again—hopefully, no emotional goodbyes at the airport. Not ones that don’t involve you visiting someone for a long weekend here or there.

“Are you forgetting that I packed an entire suitcase the first time I saw you? Because knowing that information, I am surprised you’re confused that I’ve doubled my possessions since living here?”

Pulling you close, he focuses on how you feel warm against him—fitting against him perfectly. A feeling he’s had plenty of time to grow used to but finds he never does. How you slot with him, face turned upwards, looking at him like he moves mountains and walks across fire.

If you asked him, he would.

But you never do. You just look at him as though you know he would. Knowing he does.

He supposes it’s why you’re all set to move in with him. Into his home. His room.

This place—as lovely as it has been—will no longer be yours. The little home in the centre of town is tucked away above a video store that you’ve become a frequent customer of, whether he has plans with you or not.

From tomorrow morning, though, you’ll be waking up with him officially. The two of you have had months of it, where you’re there but not entirely with him. Even if, over time, your things have been left amongst his, some even finding themselves hanging alongside his. To the point a drawer was needed—and hangers. Still, for a while, when you said home, you had meant yours.

That was until the last few weeks. Your eyes shimmering, twinkling with the stars in the night sky, curled into his side. His green jacket, the one with the brown collar, wrapped around your shoulders, no longer smelled of old cigarette smoke and desperation but rather sweetness and hope. Your hand entwined with his:

Can we go home, baby?

Yeah, I can take you now.

No, to yours.

You poke him. Light, but purposeful. A little jab to bring him back, and the way you’re smiling at him—fuck. He can’t imagine a look that could make his heart double in size quicker. His thumb strokes alongside your cheek. His pink shirt—the one you had commandeered as your own—rolled up at the sleeves and tied at your waist.

Javi’s noticed you steal his clothes a lot. Fashion them into something that suits you better. He doesn’t moan. If anything, he makes it a purposeful thing to show you how much it means to him—how much he likes it, craves it.

“C’mon, only a few more boxes...”

Groaning, he buries his lips against yours, feeling your smile widen, grinning widely against him as you hold him close.

Your teeth pull at his bottom lip before releasing it with a pop, a twinkle to your eyes. “… think of it like this: once the van is packed, we get more time to say goodbye before I have to return the keys.”

“Hmm,” he mumbles, keeping you in place with two fingers under your chin. “And how do you plan on us saying goodbye, baby?”

Sliding your nose against his cheek. “Loudly. I plan on saying it loud, baby.”

You packed me a note in my lunch?

I did

It wasn’t very safe for work.

you said you eat your lunch at your desk

Yes but I’m not a loner, Javi. I do eat lunch with people.

lesson learned then baby

But yes.

yeah?

I don’t think the porch table will cope though, may have to think of a more stable surface.

I think I can think of something

No wood! I am not having you pick splinters out of my ass again, baby.

that was on you

I think it was on you and your speech about how beautiful I looked being a ranch-hand.

Do you fancy coming to my office Halloween party?

do I have to dress up

Yes. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll be dressed up too. 

before I decide what are you dressing up as 

That’s the incentive to come, if you say yes I’ll tell you.

do you want me there 

Yes! Want to show you off

then ill be there baby

Because you like being showed off?

yes. but also because you want me there

While outwardly, he’d protested the trip to Miami from the moment you booked it off work up until he was sat beside you on the plane, he does see the beauty in it.

Although, Javi primarily suspects that it is down to you. You with your legs out, you in a bikini on the beach, robbing his shades until he buys you your own—a matching pair, something that makes Steve chuckle and Connie aww.

The lazy mornings that remind him of Houston are nice, too. The ones where neither of you are woken by an alarm or his Pop’s awful singing. The backdrop of the airy hotel room and a warm, gentle breeze blowing the sheer curtains as his thumbs dig into the back of your thighs and make you chant, is a bonus. 

Because Javi can make your skin glisten, and your body sing, whenever and wherever he gets the chance. 

What he can’t have at home with you is the sight of you fitting in so easily with the two people who have become a second family. The ones who have seen him go to lengths he hadn't known was possible, him and his old partner seeing things that only appear in occasional nightmares now. 

Connie and Steve welcomed you in with ease and with them, you smiled so effortlessly. Blending in like you were always there—laughter bursting out of you when you’re playing with Olivia. 

It's there, ever-present on the beach, as you chase Olivia around in the sand. The castles the two of you had been making long since trodden on, as the little girl squeals and squeals until she’s caught. 

“You should marry her.”

Turning his head, Steve nods towards the three of you. Connie snapping photos as you roll in the sand. The yellow tinge from his aviators adds an additional glow to the world as he eyes up his former partner-turned-friend—a friend who apparently now gives unwarranted marriage advice.

Scratching his chin, he rolls his jaw. “You giving me permission, Murph?”

“C’mon, Jav. She’s nice, good to you. Clearly makes you very fuckin’ happy.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe I’m already planning it.”

“Yeah? Fuck. Can’t wait to tell Connie. She told me I needed to convince you.”

Javi shrugs, pushing the glasses up his nose. “It so hard to believe I’d have come to that conclusion on my own?”

“Before you met her? Yeah. Since her? No. Could tell you were smitten—”

Snorting, Javi runs his hand across his chin. “I was not fucking smitten.”

“Yeah, you fucking was. No shame in that, Jav. No shame in enjoying one good woman.”

Groaning, he turns back to the laughter. The corner of his lips twitched, wishing to slide into his cheeks as he watches you throw your head back, neck exposed, as Olivia tries to do a handstand.

“I got the ring last month.”

“Shit.”

Turning his head, he narrows his eyes, watching Steve put his hands up in defence.

“You just said—“

“Yeah, well. Forgot how determined y’can be about things. Surprised me. S’not a bad thing,” Steve says. “Just, y’know. Years ago, I knew you as the man who fucked his way through—“

Elbowing him, Javi smirks as he hears Steve splutter. A sharp look added as Steve holds his hand up.

“I’m not that person anymore, Murphy.”

His friend nods, apology falling. The evidence that he means it stitching into his expression—that he was just joking, teasing. An explanation coming, that he knows how he’s changed—all words he would have once craved hearing. But since meeting you, he’d found even the teasing didn’t upset him as much.

Clapping his hand on his shoulder, Javi looks over his shades. “I know. Alright. Just, I don’t like the reminder, that's all. Feels like… feels like a lifetime ago.”

“Y’telling me.”

Snorting, Javi slides his hand off. Moving his eyes back to the sight of Olivia grinning at the two of them. Her small hand trying to cover her mouth as she whispers something to you, something which Javi suspects involves him from the way she’s running full speed towards him.

“She’s grown up so quickly.”

He’s about to reply, but Olivia interrupts—skidding to a stop in the sand, kicking it across his feet. Swiftly, her hand—all small and delicate—wraps around and tugs on his hand.

“Uncle Javi, can you come play?”

Over the top of her, he spots you. Leaning your weight on one side, hand covering your brows to watch his expression.

And fuck, how can he say no to either of you.

hows pops?

He’s good. In fact, enough to be getting your Mom’s cookbooks down from the shelf for me.

I hope you know thats him saying he loves you

He has told me how much it means to him that I wanted these. Also keeps telling me that he’s happy they’ll be staying in the family.

bet that made you cry didn’t it 

Yes! Obviously. 

youre so cute baby

In my defence he caught me off guard with the comment, I was busy staring and deciphering the handwritten notes.

not gonna be able to read them now if youve cried all over them

As always, you’re hilarious. I obviously didn’t cry into the book! I cried in the bathroom.

you turn the tap on to try and hide it again

Shut up, Javi.

i should be back soon, just grabbing the parts now

Don’t rush, he’s fine. Promise. He even says his back is barely giving him any problems since I told him I’d cook from the book.

what you cooking?

Come home safe and find out.

youre such a tease 

Learned it from you baby. 

At one stage, Javi had been good with people.

Persuasive.

Now, he’s unsure if he even knows how to ask for a favour without giving something up or flirting.

He’s still charismatic, or so you tell him. But, he's pretty sure his tact has gone, impatience bubbling as he tries to pretend to give enough of a shit to be able to ask for the favour he wants.

For you, he decides to push through. To not walk back through the door he came through. He does stuff his hands into his jacket, the man staring at him, still wearing the same confused expression he had when Javi first stepped through the door.

Because even if he’s explained three fucking times, the man still doesn’t understand why he asked him to create the crossword he’s got clutched in his hands. 

The one that would never even go to print—just a single request. A favour. All personal, just for him. Not to be published in every newspaper, but just one.

The one for him, and him alone.

It didn't matter how many ways he explained it, the man remained confused. Only reluctantly accepting, he's sure, to get him to leave.

That had been days ago. Now, you're ahead of him. Your fingers brushing over the tops of long stands, occasionally looking over your shoulder at him, making him feel like he's stepped into one of the movies you've made him watch. 

Even when you look ahead, he can tell you’re grinning from behind—taking the view in. It's 'one of your favourites', something you’d told him the first time he brought you here. 

It’s why he brought you here, now.

Second to you, of course, baby. 

You stop some distance ahead, beginning to place down a blanket, all chequered and soft, as he comes to join you. Placing the basket in his hand down on the edge of it, before your fingers are swatting at him and undoing the ties before you grasp the bottle, food and other bits.

Not that he can eat, needing more than what the wine you’d grabbed would do.

Nerves bubbling, dancing and fluttering like the flies further down the hill. You don't notice. You're focused on the newspaper, the crossword he's not let you see for the last few hours, taunting you, making you wait.

He almost wishes he hadn't when it adds to the knot in his stomach, it tightening more when you become irritated at his coyness as he's reading out the clues—

Javi, what are you up to? You always do down, across, down. Always.

You’d have made a good detective or DEA agent.

Likely given him and Murphy a run for their money—something Steve had even said to you both when the two of you were in Miami. Sand in your toes, sea air in your hair—grin brighter than the sun.

“Give it here,” you say, not sharply, but not playfully either.

His hand wipes his lower mouth, hiding his smirk, having wanted you to do that for the past fifteen minutes.

When you take the crossword, you’re chewing. 

Distracted, barely able to spot him sliding the remainder of your punnet from reach. Because Javi remembers how you feel about being asked any critical questions when you are eating.

He supposes it's the one benefit of you making him watch so many romcoms. It allowed him to do market research and ask questions without raising your suspicion, such as where wouldn't you like to be asked and if you want him down on one knee. 

Mainly, I don’t want to have food in my teeth when I’m being asked. Don't want to spit any leftovers at you in my shock.  

“Hey,” he whispers, stealing your attention—watching you smile, glancing at your clean teeth. “Eres preciosa.”

Your lips slide, curling up into your cheek. “You’re such a flirt, Peña.”

Kissing your cheek, he keeps his arm around you. Fingers playing with the fabric on your hip—balling it up before smoothing it out. Thumb and index brushing, calming, soothing him as your eyes glance over the page.

Occasionally, asking him things, avoiding the clues he desperately wants you to solve.

Until.

Fuck, until.

“Javi.”

“Hmm,” he mumbles, pretending indifference, head tilted down, resting his chin on your shoulder—knowing from the high-pitched way you said this name that you’ve already cracked it.

Your fingers slide over the paper, smothering the white and black boxes from view. “Javi?”

“Yes, baby.”

“I think that’s my reply, isn’t it?”

Lips curling, he wraps his fingers around your chin, turning you to face him. Watching it happen in slow motion, how you smile before you grin—tears all but filling your eyes as you clearly try not to get ahead of yourself.

“You wanna make me less lonely, cariño?”

Swallowing, you drop the paper. Let it fall to the blanket, twisting your body until your knees are between his thighs as you take both sides of his cheeks.

“Sí.”

“Sí?”

Nodding, a tear falls. It's one shimmering with joy and happiness, his thumb swiping it, spreading it across your skin.

“I don’t know… I don’t know the translation,” you laugh, it spluttering, fingers stroking his skin. “But I’ll marry you. I love you. Yes, Javi.”

And he whispers it.

The translation. Pressing it, as well as I love you, to your lips as his arms snake further around your waist. Hearing you, all quiet, it almost buried in kisses, repeating the translation back.

Before he falls backwards into the grass, with you on top of him—his fiancé. His world.

you fancy coming to laredo in autumn

Any particular reason?

been told I need a best man and I only know you

an: gosh, here we are. i began writing late night texts one night after a chaotic chat with @guyfieriii because i was manic/sad/anxious all at once and it was the only logical thing i could focus on. as much as javi and reader saved one another, they saved me too. thank you to you lovely lot. not only did you welcome this in with open arms, but you cheered me on every single week (also, btw, how cool is it we didn't miss a single week omg). i owe you so much, and i cannot believe we made it here together. to the old followers, i see you. to the new ones who just discovered me, hey, welcome. to all of the friends I've harrassed over the last few months, i love you. to the new ones I've made, i also love you omg. i'm already missing this pair so much, and i cannot wait until we get to hang out with them sporadically. i'm going to go cry in a corner, but just know my heart is so full and so happy and it's all down to you all 🩷

[creadigol]

Hey y'all! I'm finally back and ready to write! Here is a part two of the 'Hero's special event' snippet. I don't know if it is going in the direction everyone thought, but sometimes the characters decide the plot, not me. I hope y'all enjoy!

Part One here!

It had started as a quiet night. For that, Hero was grateful. They really didn’t feel like dealing with anything more than the occasional small-time hood. They had chosen to come back on a Thursday specifically because the last night before the weekend always seemed to be the one every big time Villain took off. 

“Finally back, are you?” 

They thought too soon. 

“Awful long time you took. No one can afford a honeymoon that long…well most not anyone. Thought you had retired for a couple weeks there,” the words were said with a slight chuckle.

Villain leisurely sauntered across the dank rooftop with a practiced ease. From where Hero was, leaning against the retaining wall overlooking the city, they could tell Villain thought the words much more important than how they were presenting them. Villain’s walk was relaxed, but their shoulders were coiled and tight. 

Hero quirked an eyebrow, side eyeing them through the thin layer of their mask; “Almost did.”

Villain froze in their approach. 

“But not for the reason you think,” Hero finished. 

Villain folded their arms. “Then why?”

Hero dragged out a breath, regretting their decision to quit smoking all those years ago. 

“Doesn’t matter. I’m here now… ready and able to fight for truth and justice,” Hero hoped it didn’t come out as sarcastic as they felt. “And what are you doing here? You can’t possibly want to rob this place. It’s all low income housing.” 

“I don’t rob anyone making less than 30k a year,” Villain shrugged. “I have standards.” 

And morals, thought Hero. It was half the reason Hero went along with their casual chats. 

They both stood in awkward silence for a few moments. Hero didn’t really know what to say. A part of them wanted to head to the nearest ladder, go home and call in Other Hero to cover the rest of their shift; and another, more confusing part of them wanted to apologize to Villain for being gone so long in the first place. 

“So?” Hero settled for the third option. Awkward conversation. 

“So?” Villain echoed. 

“So, what are you doing here?” 

Villain had the audacity to look confused. “Looking for you of course.”

That…wait…

Hero was not expecting that. 

“A little birdie told me you’d finally come back. Came to see how the wedding went. Though after a two month long honeymoon I can take a guess.” Villain finished their way toward Hero and leaned against the wall next to them. Their shoulders were almost touching though neither looked directly at the other. Both their gazes were stretched over the city they each had very different plans for. 

“Seriously, who takes a honeymoon that long anyway?” Villain huffed. “Hell, after that long I’d be ready for divorce.”

Hero subconsciously rubbed the front of their suit where a pocket would normally be in their civilian clothes. 

“Not a problem when you're on the honeymoon by yourself,” Hero padded their pockets, knowing that logically there was nothing there. Seriously, why had they ever given up smoking? 

“What?” 

Hero finally looked at Villain. By what they could see of Villain's face, what wasn’t covered by the eye mask, there was a look of sudden shock and bewilderment. 

“Do you have a cigarette?” Hero asked abruptly. 

“By yourself…Hero why were you…wait, what?” Villain looked like an old Dell processor trying to compute dial up for the first time. 

“A cigarette,” Hero stated. “Do you have one?” 

They didn’t ask about a light. Their powers were more than sufficient to light a menthol. 

Villain blinked a couple times, staring Hero in the eyes. “No. I don’t smoke.”

Hero huffed,

 “Of course you don’t.” They pushed off the wall and started towards the ladder down to the fire escape. 

“Hang on, where are you going?” Hero felt a light brush against their arm. Probably Villain having reached out and then thought better of it.

“To a corner store. There’s one two blocks down,” Hero didn’t break stride. 

“For what?” 

“A cigarette!” Hero barked. They turned to face Villain as they mounted the latter. “Obviously!” 

“Since when do you smoke?” Villain kicked up a light jog across the rooftop to reach Hero before they stared down. 

Hero rolled their eyes even though Villain couldn’t see it through the mask. 

“I don’t..well I used to…” Their emotions were getting the best of them. God, why did they have to tell Villain they went on the honeymoon alone? It had just slipped out! Shit, they hadn’t even told the other Heros. It was just too humiliating…but of course, two sentences from Villain and Hero was spilling their guts. They knew they should have taken a longer absence. 

“I do now…again!” Hero settled on. They hopped down two rungs before feeling strong grips on their forearms. Villain held on securely and they leaned over the latter to look down at Hero, their gaze intense. 

“Let go,” Hero said. 

“Not before I have answers,” Villain replied softly. 

“I said, let go.” 

“That’s not an answer.” 

“Let go!” 

“Still no.”

Hero tightened their grip on the rungs that Villain held their arms to. In one fluid motion they took all their weight onto their hands, lifted themselves off the ladder and, in a move that would make gymnasts jealous, kicked Villain square in the chest. 

It wasn’t the hardest they've ever kicked Villain, but it was enough to make Villain stumble back, releasing Hero’s arms and taking a deep breath from the impact. 

Hero landed gracefully on their feet, once again on the rooftop. 

“Thank you,” they said sarcastically, “for letting go.” 

Villain let out one last cough and straightened up. “Okay…I deserved that. But you can’t just lay a bomb like that on me and then leave for…for a cigarette? Really?” 

“Well forgive me for thinking that after five years I should be entitled to have one.”

Villain shook their head, “Oh, for the love of…after five years you shouldn’t be entitled to a smoke, you shouldn’t want one at all! But that’s not the point here…” “It sure seems like the point since you’re so invested in my lungs for some reason…”

“THE POINT,” Villain cut them off, “is you going on a honeymoon alone. I’m guessing that means what I think it means. And… the reason you’ve been gone so long.” Their voice softened by the end. 

Somehow, the softening of their tone made the coiled frustration inside Hero ease a little. 

“Yeah…yeah.” Hero sounded defeated. 

Villain slowly approached them. Hero slumped their shoulders and leaned heavily against the ladder rungs. 

“What happened, Hero?” Villain asked. 

Hero felt their resolve, a hard frosted thing they didn’t even realize was surrounding them, crumble. 

“Was it your father? Did he show up?” 

Hero let out a rueful chuckle, “Oh yeah, he showed up alright.”

Villain tensed. 

“But, as much of a nuisance as he is, he’s not what ruined everything. Surprisingly he was well behaved, despite crashing.” 

Hero felt their throat tightening. God, this was so humiliating. 

“Come on Hero, give me something.” Villain leaned into their space, their tone taking on a light tone in an attempt to soften the conversation. “Don’t tell me you pulled a Friends moment and said the wrong name at the altar?” They patted Hero’s shoulder. Hero forced out a breath. 

“I didn’t say the wrong name.” 

The hand on their shoulder stiffened. 

“You mean…no…your fiance?” 

“Said the wrong name. Yes. Or the right name, if you want to think about it that way, since they're now planning their wedding.” Hero looked down. Tears threatened to leak past their mask and they didn’t want Villain seeing. It was bad enough they had dwelled on this for two months. They had told themselves they should be past this…but the look on their fiance’s face…the humiliation of it happening in front of their family and friends…and the heartbreak of finding out their love was not reciprocated…it was still so much. 

“Oh, Hero…” Villain whispered. Suddenly, Hero felt strong arms around them and their head was pressed against a shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

Their resolve turned to dust. 

“I just…” Hero’s breath hitched and a sob escaped them. No one had just held them like this. After the fact, Hero’s family and friends and all tried to console them, words like it just wasn’t meant to be and there’s other fish in the sea were spoken again and again, but no one had let them just be. Just feel the pain and let it out. 

“It was so humiliating,” Hero choked out into Villain’s suit. 

“I can’t imagine,” Villain rubbed circles into Hero’s back. 

“I wasn’t enough…I knew it…I know I’m busy all the time…but I thought we could get through it ... .god, I would have retired early if they had asked…but I just wasn’t enough…”

They couldn’t continue, sobs which had been suppressed for two months finally breaking free and flowing out of them like a tidal wave. 

After what felt like hours, they came back to themselves and realized that Villain and lowered them both to the ground and was steadily rubbing comforting circles into their back. They sniffled and shifted. They opened their mouth to apologize when Villain said, 

“You are enough Hero.” 

Villain took a deep breath and the shaking of their shoulders, which hero hadn’t even felt at first with their own crying, lessened. “Hell, you’re more than enough. Better than enough. And you deserve someone who sees you as their whole world. Not just a spouse, not just a partner…but everything. They should see you as their everything.” Villain shifted and gently put Hero at arms length so as to look into Hero’s mask, “I know you can’t feel that now, but you will. Given time, you’ll realize that you’re better off and you deserve to be someone’s first and only choice, not a backup to the one they actually want at the altar.” If not for the conviction, Hero would have thought Villain sounded angry. 

Hero nodded. They knew what Villain was saying was true, they had known it all along. It just hurt to have your heart broken. 

“Why do you care?” Hero wasn’t sure what spurred them to ask that question, but it had slipped out nonetheless. 

Villain pulled them close once more. 

“Because I never would have left you at the altar.”

It was a solid minute before those words sunk in.

@thats-alittle-gay @fishradiation @dreamfyrethesadqueenprotector @ekira17

[ebeane]

Roommate! Dabi Blurb

(a bit suggestive)

You're in college and you had to share a dorm room with a boy because they ran out of girls and they didn't want to give you your own room because it was 'unfair'. You didn't really mind sharing a room with a boy tho, as long as you two didn't get into each other's ways then everything would have been normal. But fate had other plans. Your new roommate was called 'Dabi' or that's his nickname, he never truly gave you his real name. He was obnoxious, cocky, rude, and arrogant your typical fuck boy. Always bringing girls left and right sleeping with them in his room which was right next to yours. You found it annoying for the first month until you installed soundproof walls in your room making it less loud when you heard your roommate bring a new girl home again. You started to ignore Dabi a lot more than usual you couldn't care less about him anymore.

Dabi noticed this, he saw how you ignored him he would try to tease you sometimes or try to make you jealous by walking out of his room in his boxers and messy bed hair making it clear that he had just fuck another girl. But you don't even bat an eye, he wasn't used to this. Every girl on campus would try to get his attention 24/7, so he was shocked when this girl didn't even care about seeing him shirtless or in his boxers. He had become obsessed with knowing what you do every day and noticing little things about you, how he would seek your attention or little looks at him. Letting him see your beautiful eyes at least a bit.

One day you got a phone call from your friend who was crying to you about her boyfriend breaking up with her and that she really needed you. So you did the most reasonable thing and packed your bags to stay with her for as long as she needed it. When leaving dabi wasn't home, not like it matters you weren't planning on telling him where you were going, he didn't need to know, so you left. You stayed with her for a week, crashing in her dorm while still going to classes.

Dabi on the other hand started wondering where you had gone since he hadn't seen you in over 2 days, but then again why would he care not like he liked you at all. So dabi took advantage of this and had a huge party in the dorm inviting almost everyone on campus to the dorm to party. There was booze, drugs, smoking, dancing, every huge college party you typically see, since you weren't home he didn't need to worry about anything. He brought home multiple girls and fucked them all over the dorm not needing to care at all! But without knowing it dabi yearn for your presence, fucking any girl that looked or had the same hair color as you. Sometimes he would imagine how it was you he was pounding into, it was you he was fucking on his bed while you moaned his name out loud, it was you who was jumping up and down on his dick while you ride him on the couch. But he was always disappointed when he would look up and it wasn't your eyes staring back at him, he would usually kick the girl out once he got what he wanted. But in the end, it never was you, he didn't want to believe that he was actually falling for you.

After a week you came back to the dorm, stepping into the living room you saw how the whole place was a mess and everything was dirty. You scoff seeing how animal-like Dabi really was, you were right to think that the dorm was 100% dirty and a mess from all the parties he had that you heard about. So you put your bags and luggage in your room which you were thankful had locked before you left, it was a nice feeling returning back to your clean room a contrast to how the rest of the dorm was dirty. You start cleaning the whole dorm which took all day, it didn't cross your mind at all to wonder where Dabi was. After you finished you had a everything shower making you all clean and fresh again, you headed for bed thankful tomorrow was the weekend.

It was around 12 am when Dabi returned he was clearly drunk his friends Keigo and Jin had to come to drop him off. "come on dude your fucking tripping all over the place" Keigo said pulling Dabi up since he was limp and dizzy. "shhh baby girl we'll get to the bed soon" dabi says putting his fingers up to keigos lips shushing him. "Man, how many beers did this dude have! 'He's clearly done for'" Jin says opening up the dorm room. They pull Dabi up and make him stand telling him it is time to sleep, they help him inside making sure to tell him to lock the door as they leave. Dabi slowly locks the door stumbling a bit, he looks around seeing the place clean. He didn't clean? He thought to himself, maybe he was just super drunk and was imagining things. As he tries his best to put his keys on the key holder his eyes open wide. He sees your cute little bow keychain attached to your keys. YOUR KEYS! You were finally home! He almost stumbled on the floor as he took off his shoes and ran to your room. He opened the door seeing your body laying on your bed all angelic, god how he missed you. He slowly crawled onto your bed pushing the covers to grab you, hugging your legs burying his face into your plush thighs inhaling your scent.

You had stirred a bit because you were feeling some hot air on your thighs, as you slowly opened your eyes you saw messy dark hair near where your legs were. "D-dabi what are you doing!?" you say blushing red and grabbing his hair. "I missed you so much doll, you smell so good," Dabi says looking up from holding your thighs, he inches closer hugging your waist now while looking up at you with lovesick eyes. You look closer seeing his eyes not focusing at all, his breath was hot and smelled like booze. "Are you drunk Dabi? Come on you need to go to bed" you say starting to push him off of you. "please doll let me just hold you for tonight tomorrow you can scream at me all you want" Dabi says pushing his face against your stomach. You debate whether or not to kick him out, but the way he looks at you and hugs you makes you feel warm inside. You just decide to leave him, you get comfortable pulling the covers back up, and start caressing his hair slowly playing with it. But before you sleep you think about how you'll love teasing him in the morning you smirk just thinking about it before falling asleep.

(Shit man looking at this again this is more of a fic than a blurb 😭. Anyway hope you enjoy!!!) :))))

Should I make more?

[drdemonprince]

Heyyo - autist here who’s still figuring out my physical and emotional needs. I use weed every day, and part of me has shame around this (as I am a “professional” and supposedly it’s “bad for you”, and it costs money) and the other part of me says “fuck it, there’s no moral value in not using drugs and you should do what you need to”. I guess I’m wondering what perspectives you can offer on this. I’m ruminating on it a bit lately and need some outside people to share their thoughts to get me out of that cycle. Thnx

I find that I am a lot more in tune with my bodily sensations and emotions when I am high, and that I find it easier to enjoy things and to chat amiably with random people when I'm high too. It makes life easier and more pleasant to such an extent that I wonder if I ought to smoke weed daily to medicate all my Problems and Difficulties and general irritation at of most aspects of existence. But then I don't. Because I get freaked out by the brain foggy weed hangover that drifts into the next day, and I assume that it will be bad for my writing to be high, and perhaps most of all, because I am terrified of building up a really high weed tolerance and then needing to use a ton to feel anything, or to even return to a baseline.

A couple years back I tried out vaping almost nightly for a few months, and it definitely reached a point where simply *not* being high felt like being anxious, it seemed, so I decided pretty quickly to reduce my weed intake. I don't like NEEDING any substance to function or to just feel okay. so for now I keep it to the weekends. I often think of using weed more often than that, and kind of want to, but i don't.

The research on chronic long-term weed use is quite encouraging! There are no cognitive or motivational downsides to using weed every day, or even multiple times per day. Conversely, there are many emotional and psychological benefits. @testdevice and I discussed the latest scientific research on the subject at length here:

There's really only one rub to the study's findings: people who use weed multiple times per day have a baseline lower mood than people who use weed frequently, but not quite that often. NOW THIS IS NOT A CAUSAL RELATIONSHIP. Chronic heavy weed use is not CAUSING people to be more depressed -- it simply seems to be the case that people who are chronically depressed are reaching more frequently for weed to cope with it.

The study shows weed use does raise mood including for members of that group, so there really is no serious drawback to using marijuana here!

But It does align with a finding that I've made in my personal life: the moments when I want to use weed the most frequently are when something in my life is completely out of wack. When I'm super overworked and stressed out, the temptation is to use weed as a way to down-regulate my anxiety, but what actually works far better for me is taking actual steps to reduce stress in my life. I COULD use weed for depression or for failing to find life activities enjoyable, and it works, but it's also worth asking myself which aspects of my life need to change so that I can feel less depressed and get through the day feeling okay. negative emotions are a signal that something in life is going wrong and needs to be fixed, and I do not want to ignore that alarm system.

Those are just some things to think about. Personally, I think that if you have some ability to make choices in your life that can improve your general circumstances, it's better to do that than to use weed to make a life that sucks a little more tolerable. But if daily weed use is helping make your life better or less hard, the weed itself is not the problem!

Lots of people determine that daily weed use has considerable benefits for them with relatively few costs. For me, using a couple times per week is what hits that sweet spot. but ymmv.

[midnight-talescape]

𝐿𝓊𝓈𝓉 (𝒜𝓈𝓂𝑜𝒹𝑒𝓊𝓈 𝓍 𝒮𝓊𝒸𝒸𝓊𝒷𝓊𝓈 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇)

Kinktober Day 10: Machine + Praise

Okay why is Asmodeus actually a adorable lover tho? Why do I suddenly understood the appeal of him?!?!

Warning: fucking machine, ooc etc, etc you get the point not for kid

Genre: filthy filthy smut

Word Count: 2158

｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡

You sat up from your bed, hunger burning through your body Reminding you that you haven't eaten in a while.

Sighing and getting up, deciding that you should probably get some food before going back to doing whatever you were working on, honestly, you can't remember.

You open your door only to see a giant demon outside grinning wildly, before you immediately tried to close the door on him.

Asmodeus stuck his hand into the room, stopping you from closing the door on him, before slipping into your room saying,

"Woah woah, calm down there doll face. No need to lock me out now.”

You sighed and pinched your nose bridge before asking,

"What do you want, Ozzie?"

Asmodeus walked into your room and lifted you onto his arm before saying,

"I just want you to test out a new machine for me, you're my favorite technician after all,"

You balanced yourself on his arm and looked up at him annoyed,

“You know damn well I don't work on the weekday, Ozzie.”

Asmodeus gives a shrugging gesture as he moves you closer to him. Your faces were inches apart as he said,

"Well, my dear, what if I told you I'd give you the whole weekend off from work? Besides, wouldn't you love to play with the latest machinery, I know you do."

Asmodeus tilted your face up towards him, leaning in so close it looked like he might kiss you, as he continued,

“Just a simple test run. It will be fun I promise, satisfaction guaranteed." Asmodeus grins, his fluorescent yellow eyes sparkling with excitement,

"What do you say, dearest?"

You sighed as you agreed, after all having the weekend off is a tempting offer,

“A quick test run, then I get next week off too,”

“You got it, dollface,” he said as he wrapped both of you in smoke, by the time it dissipated you were both in his home.

In front of you was a giant machine that looked like a saddle with two protrusions on it.

You stared at it for a second before saying,

“That's a fucking machine, that's just a fucking machine, I don't even think it's a new type…”

Asmodeus laughed before turning towards the machine. You could see how excited he was by the potential thrill it might bring his yellow eyes shimmered with anticipation as he looked at you.

"Oh, sweetness, this machine is sooooo much more than just a regular, boring, fucking machine. Trust me, there are a lot of surprises hidden in its mechanics. The pleasures you could eaen from doing this simple test, well… it'll catapult you into a realm of pleasure that most demons may never touch."

Asmodeus moved closer to you, his fluorescent yellow eyes staring at you hungrily, as he traced his fingers along your hip, and letting his warm breath flicker over your ear.

"And as always, I expect nothing less than earth-shattering pleasure. So give it your all, baby doll. You know how much I love the sight of you screaming and writhing in ecstasy."

Sighing you begin to walk toward the machine pulling your panties off on the way there, as you attempt to climb on the saddle.

Asmodeus's eyes darken and he licked his lip at the sight of your bare cunt on display, before walking to you and lifting you onto the saddle,

"I think it's time we get started, don't you?"

You bit your lip as you settled on the saddle, the two protrusions pressing perfectly against your two holes.

As you sat there Asmodeus's hand slipped under your dress and begin kneading your ass, his talon digging into your flesh as he placed a gentle kiss on your horn.

He whispered hoarsely, his voice low and intense, "You better believe what I've told you, little one, this machine will push you to your limits. It’s not just another toy for playing with, it's an inexhaustible source of torment and ecstasy. You will be begging for me to stop by the end of tonight, dollface…”

With that, he turned on the machine and your eyes flew open in surprise, as the protrusion opened up to two giant metal cock with what you're assuming is bumps, started thrusting inside you. You orgasm almost immediately, the cold metal a harsh contrast to your warm inside.

Grinning, Asmodeus hold your trembling body to the machine, making sure you can't get away as you begin to pant and moan, your body shaking from the intense pleasure as the metal cock thrusts inside you relentlessly.

His cock strained against the restraint of his pant as he forced your body down. Taking pleasure in watching your eyes roll to the back of your head, as your body convulsed and shuddered around the metal cocks. Your moans echoed through the dark room, making the air thick with lust.

“Darling," he started, his voice gentle, a stark contrast to how roughly he’s handling your body, “forget about the silly notion of work. Why don't we spend the entire week indulging in our wildest fantasies?”

With a loud cry as another mind-shattering orgasm ripped through you, you glared at him, your body shuddering from pleasure as you said,

“Y-you did this… haaa… on purpose… f-fuck… so full… t-this was ne-never about… gahhh… testing the machine…”

Asmodeus chuckled as he watched your body convulse from the mind-breaking pleasure. His phantom lips pressed against your neck, leaving a faint imprint of passion, as he spoke, an air of clinical amusement in his voice,

"Maybe I did, maybe I just want to watch you fucked stupid on my machine. But can you blame me? You look so beautiful when you’re fucked dumb, it's a shame I don’t get to see it more often…"

He placed kisses on your back as he remembered your protest against working on weekdays, he added smugly,

"Mind you, I'm keeping my promise. No work next week, just us creating some lustful memories together ~"

You let out a whimper as the metal cock started spinning inside you, the bumps on them hitting every single sensitive spot inside you. The cold metal slowly warmed up from your body heat as it brutalized your inside.

“Ozzie, f-fuck you… you are a fucking asshole…”

Asmodeus laughed as he wrapped his hand around your throat pushing your head back into his chest as he said,

“I have heard worst from your mouth before, doll,” his giant hand wrapped around your waist as he pushed down on the bulge that shows up as the metal cock thrusted into you, drawing a loud gasp from you, your eyes wet with tear as you panted, “And just look at how well you're taking this, doll~ Your body is meant for this..”

“S-stop… O-ozzie can't… too much… huahhh… s-stop…” you whimpered as your body was overstimulated, your tail curling around Asmodeous's hand as he pushed down on your stomach,

Asmodeus chuckled as he placed a kiss on your tail,

“Dollface~ I told you to work on your stamina, didn’t I? Your brethren can go on for days and here you are tired after only an hour…”

“Y-you know I’m not… a-as addicted to sex… FUCK!” You swore as the metal cock started sending electricity into your body, your body shaking as you squirted onto the saddle,

Asmodeus watched in amusement and kissed your forehead gently, as your body writhed and shook on the machine. The saddle wet and sticky with your secretion.

"What do you think we should do to improve your stamina? More frequent sessions? Less rest between them? Better lubrication perhaps? It's okay, baby doll~ we have all week to improve your stamina~”

You let out a choked sob as the machine drew out a final orgasm from you, before coming to a shuddering stop.

You leaned back onto Asmodeous’s chest shuddering, your body still sensitive from overstimulation.

Asmodeus carefully removed your body from the machine with a soft pop, before holding your trembling body to his chest.

He couldn’t help but feel a sense of sadistic satisfaction, when he saw the way tears fell down your face, but it was quickly overcome by his worry for you. Pushing down his sense of lust and ignoring his raging cock, he begins carrying you to his bedroom.

“There you go, sweet thing… you did so well for me, Let take you to bed okay?”

As he lay down in bed with you, your body managed to calm down. You look up at him with teary eyes,

“Are you.. are you gonna do anything about that?” you ask pointing at the raging erection he’s been having the entire time,

Asmodeus chuckles softly as he traces a finger over your stomach and covers your face with soft kisses.

"Oh, don't worry about that silly girl," he whispered, his voice carrying a mixture of tenderness and surprise at your question,

As he removed his coat revealing his body and heart-shaped nipple, he smiled down at you.

"Your comfort is more important to me right now, darling~”

You sighed before forcing your tired body up and pulling him into a kiss. His eyes widen at your sudden movements.

Asmodeus felt a faint blush creep onto his cheeks at your sudden and unexpected kiss, but he didn’t hesitate to kiss back and slipping his tongue into your mouth.

After a while you guys parted, panting he asked,

“I thought you don't do kisses, sweetheart, something about it being too affectionate and borderline romantic for a succubus like you?”

You sighed as you held his face in your hand,

“It's a reward for being nice to me… once I ignored the fact, you lied to me so you can watch me get fuck stupid.”

Asmodeus smiled fondly as he held your hand and kissed your fingertips affectionately.

“I just can't resist seeing your body trembling with pleasure, darling…”

You couldn't help but smile at the giant demon prince in front of you, he was a sweetheart despite being so powerful. Well, a sweetheart as far as you were concerned.

Flipping him onto the bed and climbing on top of him, you look down with a mischievous grin,

“Well I think we should first take care of your cock, big guy”

Asmodeus looked up at you both concerned and aroused,

“Are you sure about this sweet thing?”

You looked at his huge erection and hesitated before saying,

“Go big or go home?”

Asmodeus chuckled softly before carefully grasping your waist as his other hand slipped under your shirt grasping your boob gently as he ask again,

"Alright, sweetheart if you're sure. But remember, it's always you who calls the shots, okay?"*

You nodded before allowing him to move your body above his erection. Your body tensed as he pushed his cock inside you, letting out a painful gasp as your body was stretched open.

Asmodeus hissed softly as he felt your body clenched tightly around his cock. His grip on your waist tightened as he began thrusting his enormous cock into you, moaning loudly,

“You’re beautiful, darling~ So fucking beautiful when your tight little body is taking in my cock… Fuck! I need you!”

You whined loudly as you felt your inside being rearranged by Asmodeus's cock. Your hand slips onto his muscular ab as you try to hold your body steady.

Asmodeus's face contorted into a mix of pleasure and pain as you took his cock in, his fingers tracing over your spine and shoulders, as both of you get utterly lost in the pleasure and pain.

He swore under his breath, as he watch his massive cock thrust into you. His forehead was covered in sweat, and despite your pained sob he could see the pleasure in your eyes as he fuck you.

Eventually with a loud moan from both of you, he came inside you. Your body shuddered as he begin to fill you with his cum, until it was uncomfortable for you.

Panting he lifted your shuddering body off of his cock, his neon blue cum spilling out of you like a river. Holding you to his body again, he begins peppering you with kisses as he moans,

“You look so beautiful with my cum spilling out of you, taking my cock like a champ… fuck I love you…”

His body froze and his eyes widened as he realized what he said,

“W-wait, I mean-“

You buried your head into his chest sleepily as you covered his mouth with your hand,

“Shut up, Ozzie…” your tail curled around his waist, “…I love you too…”

Hearing your answer his face flushed and with a laugh that shook his large frame, he removed your hand before holding you closer to him, feeling a warmth in his chest for his silly little succubus.

"Sweet Dreams, baby doll," Asmodeus whispered as he let out a deep sigh. His heartbeat returns to normal as he finally closes his eyes…

[hauntedwizardmoment]

GOOD EVENING. STARBREAKER!! this is so silly because I can't stop thinking about jace influencer au, but I did just get hit with a Vision of, like, a world where that AU is true but also the Plan is still happening. so as he gets pulled more into it (knowingly or unknowingly) jace's online presence/instagram/youtube channels or w/e slowwwwwly starts to devolve from poppy pretty sponsored idealized glamorized aestheticized content into a straight-up found-footage horror story.

CHRISTTTTTT.

like okay bear with me. a shift away from regular influencer au. jace is one of those teacher influencers. his normal content is like, stuff like this. it's fairly harmless, kind of corny, mildly funny. and as he gets a bigger following he starts doing more intimate/personal content. outfit of the day/day in the life, weekend vlogs (shopping spree in bastion city! massive spell component haul!), and crucially. talking about his relationship! his partner is his coworker, they met at work! they teach a party cohesion elective together and they co-advise the wild magic barbarians! it's sooooo cute, right?

and then porter starts appearing on camera and at first it seems super sweet, he's very gruff and not very camera-trained but he seems to really care for jace. but something like... changes. sometime in between jace's annual traditions of "halloween crafts week/decorate my classroom with me" videos and his "moonar yulenear break daily vlogs" people notice that like. jace seems a little more tired. more brittle. like he's always been performing but now it seems like every single smile is forced and fake.

sometime in the summer jace does a video addressing the comments and passes it off as burnout, he's had a difficult year because of the whole kalvaxus situation on top of some... personal issues. and his audience is like oh okay that explains it. but the tone keeps getting darker. jace posts fewer and fewer videos, his schedule goes from 3-4x weekly uploads to maybe one video every couple of weeks. slowly goes silent on all his other accounts. when he does make a video it's almost always with porter, and the way porter always has his arm around jace seems less "proud boyfriend" and more "possessive creep that's trying to keep jace from saying the wrong thing and exposing... something"

there's a conspiracy that it's all an ARG because of a bunch of "clues" in the background of jace's videos - including a jar of devil's honey on a kitchen counter that when pointed out leads to jace deleting the video entirely. this only adds fuel to the fire because what could he be hiding??

jace starts slipping up sometimes, letting on that porter's maybe. making him do something that he doesnt want to be doing. this is interspersed with strange, quasi-religious, creepy shit from porter during their vlogs. these are quickly deleted/edited out. but his audience is Concerned.

at some point. jace posts one last video called "Goodbye!" and it's a farewell to content creation as a whole for him. it's recorded in his classroom, porter's absent, jace seems almost like his old self again, he's smiling, and the sky behind him is bright red. if you look closely there are wisps of smoke visible. the tone and words are so fucking off, he's talking about seeing everyone in the "next life, a better life" if "everything goes as expected"

cue ragenarok, and cue reports that "aguefort sorcery teacher and influencer jace stardiamond was linked to a plot to create a new god of war"

[lords-of-mayhem]

Chapter two of Mariners Apartment Complex

Warnings for this chapter: Mild sexual content, accidental voyeurism

Chapter summary: Part of Øystein wished he found Faust more attractive. He had a pretty face, don’t get him wrong, but Varg was the more alluring of the two in his opinion. Despite the assurance that Varg wasn’t unkind, that had taken a while to be disproven. In the beginning, Faust telling him things was the only way Øystein learned anything about Varg. 

Words: 1,237

Admittedly, Faust and Varg had turned out to be pretty decent neighbors. For the most part, they were quiet enough. Øystein had dealt with plenty of people in the building being loud or disruptive at all hours, but he rarely even knew if they were home or not. He was grateful for this fact, the apartment adjacent to his had been vacant for a while and he’d always enjoyed it that way. He liked his privacy and valued the peace, but he didn’t mind having them there and it certainly helped that they were attractive on top of it all. 

Personality wise, they were a mixed bag of sorts. Faust had stayed as sweet as he’d been the first day they met, always happy to chat with Øystein. He’d often walk downstairs with the older man in the afternoon to get their mail, chattering on about whatever new thing was going on in his life. Øystein thought his life sounded interesting. He worked at a record store and he was the drummer for a band, and he visited his mother on weekends. 

Part of Øystein wished he found Faust more attractive. He had a pretty face, don’t get him wrong, but Varg was the more alluring of the two in his opinion. Despite the assurance that Varg wasn’t unkind, that had taken a while to be disproven. In the beginning, Faust telling him things was the only way Øystein learned anything about Varg. 

Varg had taken weeks to even begin warming up to Øystein. He’d tried to bribe him at first, buying the pair alcohol and even picking up a pack of cigarettes in the brand that they smoked. When he’d tried to give it to Varg, he had simply pushed it back to him and told him to “at least buy the good kind” if he was going to try to buy his affection. The next time Øystein saw Varg, he had the most expensive brand he could afford and he felt like it was a victory when Varg couldn’t keep the small smile off his face. 

He had warmed up to him just a bit after that, but Øystein quickly learned that the only person Varg was truly nice to was Faust. With everyone else, his words tended to stay biting and borderline pretentious at times. He had a certain air of superiority about him, seeming to believe he was better than others. Even with Faust, these same traits often leaked into the way he spoke to him, but he could at least conjure nice things to say as well. Although, most of his kindness came in the form of gestures and not words. 

Gestures such as always lighting Faust’s cigarette before his own, letting him have the first and last sip of whatever they were drinking, and occasionally leaning his head on the other’s shoulder in a shockingly soft display. Despite this outright disdain for other people, Varg curiously had a lot of visitors throughout the day. Male visitors who Øystein knew weren’t there for any platonic reasons. 

Varg walked each man inside the apartment and they always left alone an hour or less later, looking distinctly more ruffled. Many had a look of shame on their face both before and after the experience, some looking guilty as though they were doing something they shouldn’t be. The truly incriminating aspect of it was the sounds that always echoed through the thin walls. 

Despite mostly being quiet neighbors, there were times when Varg couldn’t keep his noises under control. His bedroom seemed to share a wall with Øystein’s because that was where it was always the loudest. There was the  sound of the bed springs rhythmically squeaking and then there were Varg’s sounds. God, his noises caught Øystein’s attention. He’d hear Varg’s moaning, often a sharp little ah ah ah with every thrust, clear as day at times. Øystein had no idea how he was able to go so many rounds, but he supposed it was a natural side effect of being young.

His visitors confused Øystein, though. It was impossible to pinpoint a specific type that Varg had. Some of the men were tall and slim while others were short and fat, and there were people that looked like everything in between. Some were on the younger side, but most of them were old, often far older than Varg. Most did not visit more than once, but he was sure he’d seen some of them a few times. 

There was one particular young man that had come around a handful of times by now. He had shaggy black hair that was in desperate need of a wash, not that Øystein had much room to judge in that department, and he always looked nervous. Every time he was led upstairs, he had a cigarette in his hand and was puffing away at it obsessively, despite the various signs prohibiting such actions. 

That was the only time Øystein had come close to complaining to Varg about the company he kept. He hated the smell of smoke this close to him and it always permeated through the walls, hanging heavy in his own apartment. He ultimately decided to keep the peace between them and just hoped he didn’t visit often. Luckily, he never visited more than once a week, so Øystein figured he could put up with the man’s existence. 

Over time, Øystein had learned so much about Varg’s routine when it came to sex that it made him feel a bit uncomfortable. He knew that after the particularly loud nights, Varg would always be sitting outside the laundromat early the next morning. He’d sit on the bench, waiting for what Øystein presumed was his bedsheets to finish washing. He would have a cigarette in one hand and a cup of hot tea in the other, his hair messy and his face lethargic. It would look like he hadn’t slept all night even though the noises had always stopped pretty early into the night.

Øystein didn’t believe in shaming people for whatever kind of sex they wanted to have, no matter how often, but he couldn’t help feeling bad for Varg. He wasn’t entirely sure why he felt pity when he saw him on mornings like that, the feeling just bubbled up in his chest uncontrollably. There was something so depressing about seeing Varg staring off into space, face devoid of any emotion. 

Varg never looked happy, not like Øystein thought someone who had extremely loud sex the night before would. He imagined he would be smiling or at least seem more relaxed, but Varg only looked higher strung. He tended to leave Varg alone on mornings like that, it seemed like he needed the world to leave him be for a while. 

After the quieter nights, Varg would appear to be in a better mood which confused Øystein. He thought it would be the other way around, but maybe Varg was an unusual person in all aspects. Øystein appreciated the quieter nights because it meant Varg would usually make small talk with him if they ran into each other. Admittedly, there were days when Øystein would stare out of the peephole of his own door and walk out right after he saw Varg step out of his apartment. It might be a bit weird, but he never wanted to miss the chance to talk to him.

[fitgothgirl]

Hiii look at me making a post! Haven't been super talkative here lately and hardly ever share my workout pics. Here's the one I just finished - I've never seen the t-rex before?? Fuck yeah. 🦖

Things are going pretty well. Since October I've still been successfully slowly cutting back on weed. I'm at the point now where I'm smoking a bowl per evening, if that. I have it locked up in my kSafe until 8pm each day. Soon I'll be updating the rule to 10pm, and after that I'll start smoking every other day, and so on. Me from six months ago smoking all day everyday would not believe I'm at this point! I'm proud. 😁 January 15th is the day I start my official break, two weeks before we leave for Costa Rica, so I'll be sure I won't be withdrawing by then. And when we come back I'm going to keep the break going to hit 8 weeks. Not quitting weed forever but I don't want to come back to the all day everyday shit... Not even daily either. Sounds crazy to me, probably sounds normal to most others though I'm sure lol.

Weight loss has slowed a bit but that's expected now that I'm smaller and I'm like a friggen solitary pound above having a normal BMI lol. Also ever since daylight savings ended, things have been harder to do and I've been feeling more blah. Story of everyone's life I'm sure... So considering all that, I'm still doing really well! No guilt or bad feelings about slowing weight loss or slightly less frequent workouts; no need to rush. At this point I've lost 29lbs/13.2kg total, 19lbs/8.6kg of which have been since late July.

I've also noticed visible muscle! The way my shoulder meets my trap when I flex is more defined, I have more biceps, I can often see my quads, my calf muscle has become an obstacle while shaving lol, etc. Loving it. 💪🏼

An NSV includes wearing more of my women's t-shirts; 95% of my t-shirts are men's shirts (band shirts and Blackcraft lol) since they're more comfy and I often don't like how women's t-shirts fit (depending on how they're cut; women's clothes have zero consistency). But I do have some women's t-shirts and I'm wearing them more again since they fit much better and I'm more confident (my skyrocketing confidence is another NSV!). And another NSV is needing a new belt, and soon here I'm going to need new pants! 😅

Therapy has been helping with all this too of course; I love my therapist. 🖤 She keeps things in perspective and makes sure to hype me up about how awesome I'm doing and tell me to be proud of myself. And since I'm doing so well, she makes sure that I give myself grace when I'm feeling more in a lull. Since things have been harder since DST, I've gotten a bit down or at least worried that I don't want to go back to how I was (health-wise, weed-wise, etc.), but we had a good pep talk yesterday. I'm not even regressing, just slowed down a bit. But who doesn't slow down this time of year...

Anyway, not sure what else to update since it's been a while lol. Had friendsgiving on Thanksgiving weekend, went to Vegas for my bf's work Christmas party a couple weekends ago... Last concert was Psyclon Nine in mid-November (pretty sure that's where I got a cold that emerged a few days later... Either that or an Addams Family musical we went to the next night. But all better now!). And I can't believe I'm saying this but I don't think we have another concert planned until ✝️✝️✝️ (Crosses) in friggen March. So uncharacteristic for us lol. I'm sure we can find something if we want, or I've also been wanting to hit up a Death Guild since it's been a minute for that too. Nothing else too crazy going on, our calendar's been a bit quieter than it has been in years past. But it's kinda nice haha. 😅

[avian-misdemeanors]

airplanes but as people

707: classy, elegant, cultured, very big presence, Audrey Hepburn vibes

717: smart, unassuming, a feminist before it was socially acceptable

727: autistic, will tell you everything about its special interest, weird and lovable, may use it/its pronouns

737: she likes her pumpkin spice lattes and her leggings. gets called basic, but she's reliable and easy to get along with

747: 6'6" woman with broad shoulders and long, wavy, dark hair. she looks amazing in an elegant dress and has a commanding presence. powerful dark voice, very charismatic. when she speaks, you listen.

757: 74's little sister, much less imposing, very leggy, plays volleyball, total tomboy, very very likeable and cute but also very pretty and athletic, short dyed hair

767: pantsuit businesswoman, smart, a little conventional but that's not always a bad thing

777: she's a professional athlete, a competitive powerlifter. she looks intimidating, but once you get to know her she's a pretty open book.

787: trans girl programmer, drawer full of thigh high socks, RGB everything

797: 787's fursona

Spitfire: short British girl who owns and carries a pistol. she's a skilled martial artist but she much prefers spending time on her other hobbies: makeup and ballroom dancing

AN-225: rural Ukrainian grandma in her 70's. still milks the cows every morning, and still chops her own firewood. her grandson is off fighting the Russians and she's very proud of him

B-1: used to wear a black cape and Naruto-run around the playground at school as a kid. was and still is obsessed with Batman, joined the army and has had a long career

B-21: like the 787; trans furry gamer girl obsessed with programming. wears thigh highs, RGB everything, but also joined the military and has guns at home

U-2: shy and introverted, lean and kind of lanky, she spends all her spare time hiking in the middle of nowhere. the kind of person who you stop being surprised by when she tells you she did a "light" 30 mile hike over the weekend. you're convinced she could just get up and walk the whole Appalachian Trail if she felt like it. has an account on FurAffinity and she will make it your problem. she also has the absolute best weed

L-1011: beefy working class woman with broad shoulders and a heavily worn-in denim jacket. she quit smoking in the '90s but she still knows a bunch of lighter tricks and does them when she's bored using her old beat-up Zippo. will come into your life for one week and ruin every other person for you, forever.

Tu-144: former Soviet professional athlete who had huge potential but got super addicted to amphetamines and burnt out REALLY hard, did not live up to her potential, and gave up fast. she's now a retired but functioning alcoholic watching the collapse of the modern Russian state going "here we go again"

Concorde: slightly stuck up but not mean at all, had her day in the sun, won a lot of gold medals in the Olympics, now gracefully retired and coaching the next generation of athletes. keeps in touch with Boeing 2707, Tu-144, and Lockheed L-2000

SR-71: older legendary retired Olympic sprinter, kind of a loner but she sometimes hangs out with Tu-144, L-2000, B2707, and Concorde

Space Shuttle: hotshot test pilot who wears aviators everywhere, loves to reminisce about her glory days

MiG-15: retired soldier, left Russia after the fall of the Soviet Union and now lives in a cabin in northern Canada. used to believe in the USSR but now basically doesn't believe in governments at all and just keeps to herself. drinking problem.

F-86: retired Olympic fencer, focuses on her grandkids now, visits MiG-15 to play chess and drink

F-111: furry trans girl techie who likes to watch mecha anime. taller than she'd like but she still loves herself and finds ways to see her own beauty.

F-117: Goth girl who was best friends with the B-1 in school, they'd both watch anime together as kids. F-117 kinda vanished after high school then reappeared on instagram years later as an owner of a crossfit gym

F-22: expert martial artist, small in stature but tough as nails, buzz cut, tank top, combat boots. she will be your friend but she is also a little...unhinged

XF-85 Goblin: tried to join the military but was rejected due to ADHD. no longer believes in the military and is glad she got rejected. when asked about it she says "the military is dumb and war is for straight people". silly little shit who makes bad puns and likes rolling around on the floor with cats. drinks soda in the shower.

P-51: played quarterback in high school, then drafted into WWII

P-38: played tight end on P-51's team.

P-51 and P-38 got drafted together, went to boot-camp together, but they got deployed to different theaters of war.

They write each other. The letters don't always go through. When they get a letter, they head back to their bunk, shirtless with dog-tags dangling, they read with a big smile on their face and a cigarette in their mouth

They rehash heroic football plays that sent the bleachers into uproarious cheers, sounding like a crowd ten times larger than the entire population of Littletown, Arkansas that they were.

Their letters also contain very very vague but pointed allusions to the times they spent together after the games were over and the other teammates went out with their girlfriends. Locker Rooms. Cornfields. And the Ice House. Oh, the Ice House…

P-51 bitches about the cold in western europe. P-38 bitches about the tropical humidity and mosquitos, and how he always forgets the name of the island he's on this week.

It'll be over soon, right?

P-38 says he overheard B-29 saying that the war is going to end one way or another very soon in a very confident manner. B-29's tone kind of spooked P-38, and he's not sure why. He prays that B-29 is right, but something feels off around here.

The censors blacked out most of that letter. P-51 is glad P-38 is alive…but what is going on over there?

P-51 wanders the aerodrome, and he spots B-17 and C-47 making eyes at each other. His hands ball up in fists in his pockets. Those two get to go home and get married, ring bearer, flower girls. Tuxedo, Wedding Dress.

All he gets is the Ice House. But oh…Oh, the Ice House…

A300: Old fashioned diesel dyke. She's in her 60's but still does powerlifting as a hobby. She lives with her cute femme wife, who is absolutely the domme in the relationship. They're both retired and raise goats together at their cottage in the country to sell goat dairy at the local farmer's market. She wears denim vests covered in patches, many of which are old and faded, she's tattooed and still has a buzz cut. She was on the front lines helping her fellow queers during the AIDS crisis.

A320: When you find out your friend from high school who said she was going to major in finance actually did major in finance, got a finance job, and has been working for 10 years and somehow hasn't burned out, has savings, bought a car, a normal but attractive fiance, and watches an appropriate amount of Netflix in the evening

A320neo: Same woman but she just discovered aromatherapy

A350: Same woman but she got a masters from an online college while still working full time and has multiple CFO job offers

Honda Jet: The only posts on her instagram are her college graduation in 2016 with her white american mom and japanese dad, and she's taller than both of them, and a STOP ASIAN HATE post from 2020

Stipa Caproni: down for literally anything and will absolutely blow your mind but not for long.

Wright Military Flyer: an 85 year old lady who still beautiful and dainty but also keeps a fucking Colt 1899 on a thigh holster. under her dress, of course. she's still a lady.

Tu-154: a track star and will go all night long, you won't be sure if you're boinking or in a cardio race

F-14: a retired Subaru lesbian who lives with her wife and 3 dogs. was the popular girl in school and kind of everyone's friend in college.

Bristol F2b: knows how to use flintlock weapons and always smells a little bit like leather and campfire, but she's really sweet and comforting to be around.

T-38: 5'2" and a little fucking firecracker. doesn't actually know how to fight you but she will certainly try and one or both of you will end up with teeth missing.

Kfir: the kind of girl who you suspect might actually be an assassin.

F-4 Phantom: a butch martial artist in her 40s who is suspiciously muscular and shows off by crushing watermelons with her thighs, arms, hands, etc. She wears combat boots and a leather jacket and rides a motorcycle

7J7: refers to the D&D Monster Manual as the "Girlfriend Guide"

F4U Corsair: collects swords but in a hot way

TBM Avenger: a classic softball lesbian

P-47: a bodybuilder, she can lift you over her head. big and imposing, but a kind person who will happily use her large stature to help her smaller friends feel safe.

CRJ-900: collects swords but in a pretentious way

DC-3: keeps pigeons on her roof, but it's cute bc she talks to all of them. they are her friends. get her talking and she will tell you stories from her youth that will haunt you

Convair 990: does illegal street racing

DC-9: has a piss kink. sells landing gear pics online.

UH-1 Huey: smokes cigars and drinks whiskey, and goes hunting often. She's trans and beautiful but still calls herself a "good ol' boy"

Bell JetRanger: in her late 40s and just figured out she's gay, she's doing her best.

V-22 Osprey: a genderfluid gun enthusiast, not in a toxic way but sometimes you worry about their stability. not the best mental health.

MD500C: an aging ballerina who is still way more strong and agile than you.

MD530F: her daughter who took after her mom but is a better dancer and has an undercut she dyes silver.

EC-135: she is a no-nonsense doctor with a femme wife and a 3-year old.

CH-53: is a 'roided out butch whose father was in the Navy, she served in the Navy, and now won't stop talking about the Navy. She's now a volunteer firefighter who has strapped every subby femme in the region but will always remain single.

Mi-26: a heavyset Russian grandmother who only makes one facial expression. She has subsisted off of nothing more than potatoes for at least the past half century. She is old, but she is not frail.

R22: is a lanky truck-stop hooker. Everyone can come inside for a low price, no experience required.

AW-109: works as a first mate on a megayacht. She knows all the secrets of a particular billionaire but won't say who.

MiG-29: she will shove you the fuck up against a wall and you will like it.

Lockheed Constellation: goes by Connie, she will give you the classiest evening of your life.

Ekranoplan: she was going to be an Olympic swimmer for the Soviet Union, but when the USSR collapsed, so did she. she's a sad story, but she's happy in her retirement to see the younger generations taking an interest in her career, and trying to carry it on in some way.

Sopwith Camel: completely unhinged but in a hot way

made with help from @bananabreadloveman

[riality-check]

WIP Weekend!

(Have some more b-sides, as a treat! TW: alcoholism)

The show wasn’t a one time thing.

Eddie didn’t know how. He remembered it all. Of course he did. He’d never be able to forget the feeling of a guitar in his hands and the sound of the music he makes and the sight of a crowd - however small - looking at a stage he was on.

He was onstage. What were the fuckin’ odds of that?

He just didn’t think that they’d book another show. Corroded Coffin wasn’t made up of superstars. It wasn’t made up of lucky people. They were four guys with too much time on their hands and an empty garage to practice in, managed by a force of a woman who moved across the country with them because she believed in them, for some godforsaken reason.

Eddie figured they were one and done. They’d get one taste of fame, one inkling of what it was like to actually do this, and they’d go right back to their mundane life in their shitty apartment and ride that high for the rest of eternity.

They went back to that same bar the next week. And the week after that. And the week after that.

It made no damn sense. They couldn’t possibly have been a draw, not when they had to fight tooth and nail to get into the Hideout in the first place. They were mediocre at best, making mediocre covers when Eddie wasn’t writing mediocre songs.

All his songs were mediocre, even if no one told him so. It was obvious. Who wanted to hear that many songs about dragons and shit?

Eddie thought that answer was a pretty solid “no one.” It turned out to be a record company, instead.

He didn’t remember that as well as he remembered being onstage. He was already three drinks in by the time the guy in the suit approached them after their set, and while three drinks didn’t mean much, it combined well enough with his anxiety to render the conversation as a gap in his memory consumed by the repetition of “do not fucking throw up on his nice shoes, you can’t afford to replace them.”

When his brain came back online, Jeff and Chrissy were staring at the envelope in her hands, and Archie was shrieking about a single.

Eddie wrote the single in one night, chain smoking cigarettes and handing it off to Gareth before he could second guess it.

They recorded it in one take. Eddie was sober, not counting the cigarettes, because he swore he needed a clear head to play.

It hit number three on the rock chart. When they celebrated with cheap champagne from the liquor store on the corner, the one owned by the nice Vietnamese lady who looked the other way when Eddie didn’t have enough change to buy his cigarettes, Eddie got blackout drunk for the first time.

It was less scary than it should have been. It was less scary than the idea of having to do this, of having to constantly outdo himself, for the rest of his life.

[skepticbeliever-bookclub]

Hi friends!

Ever wonder about the fics that don’t make it through the final round of voting for the bi-weekly read in the book club? You’re in luck!

The book club is structured so that we solicit nominations from our members, either based on a theme or a trope or simply a request for their favorites, and develop a list of ten nominations, which are then narrowed down to a top three. The top three fics end up in our weekend vote and the winner of that vote becomes our book club fic for that week.

This week we went looking for hidden gems; fics with less than 300 kudos. We like these rounds 'cause it means our members dig deep and find us some very cool nominations!

Our runners-up this week were:

watch things on vcr with me - romanceisb0ring

“Y’know what would be really dumb?” Ryan says, exhaling the smoke through his nostrils like he’s a cartoon dragon as he speaks. He tucks the pen into the pocket of his jacket, then shrugs it off his shoulders. He struggles to get one of his arms out of it as the jacket gets caught between his back and the chair, but eventually he manages to free it. Shane can’t help but trace the lines of Ryan’s biceps with his eyes for just a second before asking, his voice low, “what, Ryan?” He’s uncertain where this could possibly be going. When Ryan is like this, he’s unpredictable in the best way. He could either say the stupidest thing you’ve ever heard that’ll make you cry laughing for five minutes, or he could say the most earnest, heartfelt shit that makes you so thankful to be allowed to be part of Ryan’s life. Turns out, in this case, it’s neither of those. “What if we watched one of those VHS tapes.” _______ Or, Ryan and Shane get high and watch one of the porn video tapes from the Mystery Files set.

Schaumburg Abbey - Siria

When a young man is born to be a hero, some adventure must happen his way, no matter how quiet the market town into which he is born. So, when young Mr Ryan Bergara receives an invitation to spend the season in Bath, it is inevitable that the dashing Mr Madej catch his eye—and that Ryan is soon caught up in the mysteries surrounding Schaumburg Abbey.

WOULD YOU LIKE TO JOIN US FOR OUR NEXT DISCUSSION? CHECK OUT THE FAQ, AND SEND US AN ASK! IF YOU’RE LOOKING FOR FIC RECS, PLEASE CHECK OUT OUR READS, NOMINEES AND BOOK CLUB REC LISTS!

[inklessletter]

It's a love story (baby just say yes) Chapter 2

Chapter 1 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

“How’s university treating you, Buckley?” Eddie asked a little louder than usual, to get himself be heard over the pop music blasting in that freshmen party. Eddie offered her a very much illegal beer, and she accepted it with a cheeky grin.

It was the last weekend before Christmas break, where almost everyone came back home for the festivities. Of course, the break only lasted two weeks, and it was way less than an appropriate amount of time to actually throw a rager, but, hey, most people there were eighteen or nineteen. It’s not like they actually needed a reason to bring booze, and weed, and obnoxious music. 

Robin gave Steve the call a couple weeks before, and it only took Steve to mention it to Eddie for him to be on board. A weekend trip to Chicago to see Buckley and party surrounded by faceless people who actually were not worried about Munson being a mass murderer and also see again his favorite lesbian after months? Abso-fucking-lutely yes.

Well, truth be told, it’s not like he wasn’t going to see Robin just a week after that, she was going to be in Hawkins for Christmas and New Year’s Eve, but, come on, he wanted to visit. Plus, that would mean a four hour car ride with Steve, and there was no way he was going to refuse.

So everything in this plan was calling Eddie in, and after all the shit he’d been through, a selfish part of him actually thought that he deserved to have a little fun.

Sue him.

“Actually pretty good,” Robin said. She took a sip of beer, making an unfortunate grimace at the taste. “Classes are interesting, but some professors are shit , and I’ve met some people that are, um, how do I put this? More open minded, generally speaking, than in Hawkins, so. Yeah, I’m having a blast here.”

Robin granted him with a coy smile. Eddie took a second to appreciate her, she was stunning that night. She was wearing a lot of silvery jewelry, and a smudge and sparkly eyeliner made her eyes look impossibly large. She had a pink lock of hair now. Big worn out Doc Martens and purple plaid flannel over a cut off gray shirt tucked in belted and high-waist ripped jeans.

God, she looked beautiful (and not because of her very much flattering outfit, because she was wearing an attitude where she actually didn’t feel awkward in her own skin anymore), but he still couldn’t understand how it took him more than three months to realize that she was friends with Dorothy too.

“Yeah?”

“Yup.”

Eddie bit his cheek and smiled, dimples showing. She was busy looking at her red solo cup. Too busy.

“Okay, Birdie, spill the tea.”

Robin looked at him, arching an eyebrow.

“I’m not—” Robin started, exasperated. “It’s not like—” 

Oh, wow. So, there was really something bothering her. She took a deep breath and then looked back at Eddie, soft expression.

“It’s nothing, really.”

“It doesn’t feel like nothing.”

Eddie thought for a second what he was going to say next.

“Look, I know I’m not your platonic soulmate, but if you want to talk about anything, you know I’m your humble servant, Ladybird,” Eddie said, with a compliant smile, hand in over his heart. “If you want your other half over here to spill your guts, I can go after him and drag his squeezy ass back here.”

Robin cackled at that.

“And if you don’t want to talk at all tonight, we can focus on how that hot punk girl over there has been checking you out for ever, now.”

Robin turned around and interchanged glances with her, who gave her a brief, suggestive smile. Robin bit her lip and looked at Eddie, hiding a smile.

“That’s Gwen, she’s in my philosophy class. She’s smoking hot , indeed,” Robin said.

Eddie looked at her with a wry face. He made a wordless gesture to go for it with her.

“We’ve already actually, um—”

Robin took a little bit too long sip of her nasty beer. Eddie smiled widely, and laughed.

“Oh, Buckley, look at you, you are such a menace now,” Eddie teased.

“Shut up, Munson. It was just one time.”

“So, you actually got to learn a thing or two from Steve, huh?” 

She slapped his arm, muting him to shut up again, but Eddie only laughed harder. She was going full red now.

“Oh, come on. It’s a good thing! Did you have fun?”

“Yeah, yeah, I did. It was fun, but, can we just not—?”

“Okay, fine.”

Eddie raised his hands in surrender. 

Robin looked around, and then Eddie realized.

“You’re waiting for someone, aren’t you?”

Robin sighed and looked at him. 

“And here I thought that you were expecting to spend the night with us, your friends,” Eddie said, in a dramatic tone.

“I am. It’s just— Do you wanna dance?” she blurted out, fast. Robin was acting weirder than usual tonight, Eddie could tell.

“To Madonna ?” Then Eddie realized that Gwen was approaching. The clawing hand on his forearm and the panicked look on Robin’s eyes was enough for him to accept. 

He took her by the hand and guided her to the mass of sweating, smelling bodies, and not a word was said, when he spun her around and they started dancing.

Okay, there were some blank spaces in this narrative that Eddie didn’t have. Robin looked so confident just a minute ago, and then this Gwen punk appeared and she seemed to want to crawl out of her own skin again.

“Birdie, I don’t mean to pry but you’re fucking weird tonight. Do you need help or something?”

“Can’t we just dance?”

“Babe, the weird thing about you wanting to dance is that you can’t bet to not trip over your own feet while just standing . What’s wrong? Is this girl, is she bothering you or something?”

“No!”

Eddie cursed Steve in his mind. Where was he? He was supposed to go down to grab some drinks but that was forever ago. Whatever that was upsetting Robin, this was Steve’s field. Not that Eddie didn’t know how to comfort her, or that he wasn’t to be trusted, but it was clearly that she would feel more comfortable with him around.

Eddie grabbed Robin’s hand.

“I’m going to get Steve.”

“No, no, no!” She looked really panicked. Robin pursed her lips, stopped dancing and cursed under her breath. “Fuck, okay, come with me.”

Eddie followed her lead. She took him out of the dorm, and crossed the crowded hall to the stairs that went to the roof. The building roof was empty, except for some smokers. 

It was a quiet place.

Eddie observed Robin. He let her find the words and the strength to actually tell him whatever she needed to share. 

He didn’t pressure her.

Eventually, she turned to him, and took a deep breath.

“There’s something I need to tell Steve, but I’m not sure if our friendship will survive this bomb.”

Eddie was perplexed.

“What? Robin, what are you talking about? Steve will never break your friendship, he loves you.”

“He won’t once he finds out.”

Eddie frowned his eyebrows. He saw her sitting on the floor, and he sat in front of her without saying anything.

“You were right before, I am expecting someone to show up. I’m—shit, I’m kind of seeing someone. Well, not kind of. I’m seeing someone.”

“But Birdie, that’s great. Wait, is it that Gwen? That’s why you didn’t want to be seen with her before? Didn’t want Steve to find out before you could tell him?”

“What? No. This kind of has to do a lot with her but, no, Gwen and I—It was at the beginning of the semester, we started talking and she was nice. It kind of reminded me a little bit of you—”

“Gross.”

“—and it had been like three weeks, and I was missing you guys a lot, and I wasn’t making any friends, and she was just like me , and she’s so hot, god damn, and I didn’t know how it happened but we had sex—” Robin stopped to take a shaky breath in and calm herself. “And don’t get me wrong, it was so hot. I wanted it, okay? And—And she was so nice after. But then I felt like shit, like the day after, and I didn’t know why because I wanted it so bad . But maybe I made a mistake because I wasn’t ready. I—” Robin gulped and looked away. “I hadn’t even kissed anyone before her. I didn’t even tell Vickie I had a crush on her. I had my first kiss and my first time in the same night, and I was so confused the day after. So confused, Eddie. I wanted it. I really, really did, but I felt like shit. Like I was the worst.”

Eddie listened carefully, trying not to interrupt her, but he got himself drowned by the sinking feeling of the understanding.

“I believe that I was going through a lot. Everything was new, I didn’t feel like I had to really hide myself that much, because my family wasn’t around, so. I don’t know, it took me a while to understand that maybe I got overwhelmed, and I felt lonely and maybe I went all the way with Gwen because I just didn’t know what to do with this—this ball of feelings. I felt like shit because—because I know I had my first time for the wrong reasons, and that’s nothing to do with Gwen, because she was splendid before, during and after, believe me, but—” Robin gulped around a lump that was forming on her throat, so Eddie finished the sentence for her.

“You didn’t have feelings for her.”

Robin looked at her hands, slightly nodding. She was playing with a piece of paper that was lying around, destroying it mindlessly.

Eddie felt terrible after hearing that. He felt even worse because he had teased her a little bit about Gwen before. Well, his goddamn mouth.

When Robin didn’t speak for the following minute, Eddie intervened.

“Birdie, I’m so, so sorry that you went through that. You must have felt so lonely and confused. Are you okay now?”

Robin looked at him, and sighed.

“Yeah, I mean. I’d been feeling like shit for weeks until I figured it out, but. Yeah, I don’t know, Eddie,” she flexed her knees, bracing her own legs. “I just don’t think I was ready for it, that’s all.”

Eddie waited a little bit for her to continue, but when he understood she wasn’t going to, he asked:

“Why didn’t you call? You know, we miss you too, a lot . Steve mentions you at least once a day.”

“I was embarrassed.”

“Why? Robin, we wouldn’t have judged you at all! We support you no matter what, I think we could’ve even taken a trip earlier to see you if we knew you were going through this!”

“I know! I know. I shouldn’t have felt that way.”

“I’m not saying that.”

“No, I am. But I felt that way, and I really didn’t want anyone to tell me that, because I already knew. Besides, Steve and I have been talking about my doomed love life for like, ages, and—I just, I don’t know. I got some action and it got me spiraling and I didn’t want to face this conversation with Steve.”

Eddie was going to refute that rambling, but Robin continued.

“ I know ! What you’re going to say, believe me, I know. I should have been able to talk about this with him, and I feel bad that I didn’t, that I—that I called Nancy instead.”

Eddie felt where that was going before she kept speaking. He raised a hand, covering his mouth. His eyebrows frowned, and his eyes were fixed on a very uneasy Robin in front of him.

“I didn’t know Nancy knew about you.”

“That’s because she didn’t. I didn’t tell her before, but—but I called her, and she wasn’t far, and she came by. And we—I don’t know, she’s so sweet and so fearless,” she laughed a bit, her cheeks stained in red. “How is that possible, huh? She can be so frightening, point a gun to your head, but then she’ll do whatever in her hand to make you laugh? To make you feel… less lonely. Not a—not a big error .”

Robin then, after what it felt ages, gazed directly at Eddie, and god, whoever said the eyes were the windows to the soul was so damn right.

“Shit, Robin—”

“She was going to come tonight, too. We were going to tell Steve together.”

Eddie covered his face with his hands.

This was bad.

This was real bad.

Eddie knew for sure that Steve would be happy for them if they were happy together, but he knew Steve. He would be hurt, too, for more than one reason.

Not that long ago, Steve still had inconclusive feelings towards Nancy. They had history together. 

Robin, his soulmate, had kept a secret from him, and they shared everything. God, if Eddie knew something about these two is that their friendship hadn’t met any boundaries yet. And this time, Robin didn’t want to talk explicitly to him.

Also, Robin had decided to trust Eddie before Steve, too.

And, well, she apparently had feelings for his first love, so. There was that.

“I’m assuming correctly that what you and Nancy were going to tell Steve tonight is not that you had your first time with Gwen, right?”

Robin nodded, shortly.

“We’ve been—uh, we’ve been seeing each other for a few weeks now.”

“I see,” Eddie said under his breath. But then he frowned and looked at her, “I’m sorry, this is not any of my business, but isn’t it too fast? I mean, the whole Gwen thing, and then you regretted it because you didn’t know what you were feeling, and all that jazz. Are you sure you’re going to be okay? I mean, you two guys are friends, and I know that you know it’s overwhelming this first semester. Robs, are you sure about this? I really, really don’t want you to get hurt. Any of you.”

That included Steve, too.

“Eddie—I had feelings for her before. It’s not—it’s not a rushed thing. I think I’ve been feeling for her this way since—you know.”

“Yeah. Fuck. Yeah, I know.”

Eddie was happy for her. For them both. He really was, truly. But a part of his heart was with Steve, anticipating what was going to be a sad journey for him. He won’t hint how he was truly feeling to Robin or Nancy, but he knew that he would speak his soul to Eddie. And Robin knew Steve as well as Eddie did, now. 

And she knew that, too.

“Please, don’t tell any of this to Steve. Not before I do.”

Eddie closed his eyes. 

Fuck, he’s shit keeping secrets. 

“It’s not my place to say anything,” Eddie said, pained for having to keep yet another secret to Steve. 

Robin sighed, relieved.

“Thank you, Eddie.”

“But please, if you plan to do it, do it soon. We all know that he deserves to know.”

Robin nodded. Then he offered her the hand, and she took it. He pulled her in for a hug, and whispered to her ear that he was thankful she trusted him, and that he was glad if she was happy now. 

Robin hugged him tighter.

“What about if we go back and look for Harrington? He’s either lost or looking for us.”

Robin nodded, and smiled.

“Yeah. I don’t know where he went.”

Robin and Eddie entered the stairs, passing by a few couples making out in the dark, when they both froze with the sight in front of them.

There, in the privacy of the indoor stairs there was another couple loudly kissing. Hard.

And one of them was Steve, trapped between the wall and the mouth of a six foot two tall, jacked, blond guy.

Two things happened at once.

1. Robin grabbed his arm and pulled Eddie back to the roof, shutting the door, making the sight of Steve devouring another man disappear behind it.

2. Eddie’s heart broke in a million pieces.

Robin dragged him fast to a quiet area, and put both hands on Eddie’s face, forcing him to look at her.

“Eddie, okay, shit. Okay. Eh—”

Robin was about to have a nervous breakdown.

“Listen, Eddie. I know that you’re a friend and to be trusted, but, what we just saw, it never happened, okay?”

“Robin—”

“No, no, I need you to listen. This? This is a dream,” Robin started waving her hands, looking at him straight in the eye. “This is a dream, whatever is happening in those stairs you just dreamed it , capisce ?”

“Jesus, Rob—”

“I’m fucking serious, Eddie,” she said, high pitched, making a few people to look in her direction. Her hands were trembling. She held Eddie’s face in place again. “Holy fucking shit—” she said under her breath, “holy fucking shit!”

Eddie felt like he was on autopilot. He held her arms, keeping her in place.

“It’s okay,” Eddie said, almost without a voice.

“Why are you not freaking out?”

“Because he told me, Robin. That he’s bi. I know he told you, too.”

Robin looked at him and her expression changed.

“I won’t rat him out, okay? It’s fine. It is fine.”

“Eddie—”

“We can stay here to give him—uhm��privacy, yeah? I bet he can’t do this in Haw—Hawkins. He’s entitled to have fun. It’s fine .”

He didn’t remember Robin’s hand were in his face until she started wiping his cheeks with her thumbs.

“Eddie, babe. You’re crying—”

“It’s fine.”

Now he could feel his heart clenching, and all the air being sucked out of the world. He could feel his face growing hotter, and wetter, and his own shoulders shaking almost violently.

Robin lifted her arms and hugged him close. It took him a second or two, but he hugged her back.

“He can’t know. Please, don’t tell him. Please .”

“Okay. Okay.”

She entangled her hands in his hair, and he hugged her tighter. He was shaking.

“ Please ,” Eddie said again.

He blinked a few times, trying to control his own breathing, his shaking, his body. 

Eddie let out a sigh and loosened the embrace, until they were not touching anymore. He was under Robin’s gaze, and it took him a bit to calm himself.

When he had enough self control, he spoke again.

“Do you recall the whole capisce speech you gave me? Same here. You never saw any of this. If you think you did, you dreamed it. None of this ever happened, okay?” Eddie said as calmly as he could, but his voice was in a strange forced pitch, and still a little bit shaky.

Robin nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

With a deep breath, Eddie leaned in the wall, facing the skyline of Chicago in the middle of the night. After a few minutes, Robin asked her since when he was feeling that way for Steve, and Eddie shrugged. He couldn’t pinpoint it, really. She joked about now understanding about his squeezy ass. 

He laughed a bit, but then he spoke, after a silence and a deep breath, because he was shit keeping his own secrets.

Eddie told her that he’d been feeling like this for Steve for quite a while now. That he didn’t expect them to become friends, that he thought Steve would stop spending time without him after the apocalypse. And then after he recovered. And then, after she and Nancy left for college and school started again.

That everytime he expected Steve to leave, he was surprised because he didn’t. That he noticed every little bit of Steve and he loved every quirk of him, that they became closer, and they trusted each other with their own deep secrets and family history.

That he made him laugh until he couldn’t breathe.

That Steve had become the best part of his day.

That he knew that Steve was still struggling with his own internalized homophobia since he sort of hinted that he felt that he had to fight against it.

That Eddie wanted to come clean, pour his heart into his, give him his everything, and that it would be a problem.

That Eddie knew that he had no future in Hawkins, that he had to leave sooner or later, and he wasn’t sure Steve would do such a thing.

Eddie didn’t want to risk what he had with Steve, even if at the end of the day was not enough . 

Eddie kept talking about how much in love he was, how heartbroken, until his voice even out, and two figures came into sight.

“Holy shit, where the hell were you? I’ve been looking for you for ages !” Steve said.

Eddie and Robin turned their heads to him. Then they shared a brief look. 

“Look who I found at the party!”

Nancy smiled at them and waved. She had a red cup in her hand, and, if Eddie didn’t know what he did know, he wouldn’t have noticed the look in Nancy’s eyes when she looked at Robin.

“Hi Nance! I thought you weren’t coming.”

“Well, my car broke down, and I tried to call, but no one would pick up.”

Robin and Eddie nodded. 

Nancy went next to Robin, and they both looked at the skyline, having a quiet conversation. Steve walked and leaned next to Eddie, also looking at the horizon. 

It was obvious that both Nancy and Steve had been drinking.

“I went for drinks and when I came back you and Robin were nowhere to be found. You were here all the time?”

Eddie looked at him. Steve was shamelessly looking back, dead in the eye.

“Yeah, we were here. Sorry we bailed, we didn’t know where you went, either.”

“It’s okay. It’s nice out here.”

Steve offered him his own drink, and Eddie took it with a smile. He took a sip.

The sight of Steve’s lips, pink and kiss swollen didn’t definitely feel like a dagger to his heart.

The soft sigh leaving Steve’s body, while he rested his head on Eddie’s shoulder, looking at the infinity, didn’t definitely feel like dying .

“Did you have fun tonight?”

No.

“Yeah. Did you?”

Please, say no. Lie to me.

“It was meh. I missed you.”

“You did?”

Eddie’s voice was small and fragile, but Steve was drunk enough not to notice. He shouldn’t be looking for reassurance, but some needy part inside of him, needed to hear it, even if it was while he was under the influence of alcohol, and not everything that came out of his mouth was reliable.

“Yeah. You know I do. You make everything better.”

Eddie closed his eyes, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

“And what did you do up here?”

We shared some secrets that we’re keeping from you .

“Nothing, just—Nothing.”

“Hm,” Steve hummed. 

Eddie knew the signs. First, the leaning, then, the humming. He didn’t have to look to know that Steve’s eyes were closed.

Eddie lifted a hand to Steve’s hair, lacing his fingers in it. Steve let out a happy breath.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s perfect.”

The four of them eventually sat against the wall, and it took no more than ten minutes until Steve’s breathing even out, and he was fast asleep. How he could sleep anywhere was something that none of them fully understood.

Robin was looking at Eddie, he knew. But Eddie didn’t have it in his heart to look back at her.

He just kept stroking Steve’s hair for a while longer.

For as long as Steve let him do that.

For as long as the secrets don’t destroy him.