#the longer I look at it the less I like it

[sobbingscripter]

⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼wc. 2216🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆

“Really feel the pottery in your hands. Feel the clay as you shape it.”

The sound of the teacher is drowned out, your attention on Mark and literally, only Mark.

Your nipples are pebbled, charcoal pencil between your teeth as you watch the muscles of his forearms flex with each movement of his hands. His wet, messy hands that shape clay so sensually. God, your palms are already sweaty.

You’ve long abandoned your art project, your incomplete drawing remaining just that. Incomplete.

And you feel your belly dip inward when you watch his middle and ring finger push into the centre of where the hole of whatever pot he’s making. And you nearly moan when he shifts his position, his arm reaching into the pot to shape the inside.

You feel like a pervert. A creep. A weirdo.

Like if Mark didn’t know you, he’d move to walk on the side of the street furthest from you, because your thighs are pressing together with each gentle circle he makes to the outside of the pot, middle finger pressing into the malleable clay to form patterns.

And you cover your lips with your fingers, dragging them down your chin as you try to grab a hold of yourself.

Mark glances towards you, a snort falling from his lips before he motions to your mouth, and your brows knit. Before reaching into your pencil case, pulling out a compact mirror and you grimace.

Charcoal smeared like a fucking goatee.

You rifle through your bag, pulling out a small package of tissues before you wipe at your face, checking your reflection to make sure you’re getting all of it.

“Young lady,” the teacher’s voice breaks your concentration and she looks down at you, “less vanity, more drawing.” And she plucks the compact from your hand, before continuing to walk between the aisles of students.

Looking between their different projects and you feel the back of your neck burn with embarrassment as well as annoyance.

“Dirty old bitch.”

𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆𓈒

“You weren’t there to stop me from making an ass of myself, you dildo.” You hiss, watching as William continues to clean away the barely perceptible streaks of charcoal from your chin.

“I told you to take welding.” He huffs. “Only way you can make an ass of yourself there is if you lose a finger.”

You glance towards your reflection in the bathroom mirror, only satisfied once you’ve reapplied your lip liner, as well as your gloss.

And William steps out of the bathroom first, before backtracking, turns to you. And he presses his palm against your mouth, smearing your lip combo across your face.

“Oh no. Guess we’ll have to stay here for a while longer. Shucks.” William sighs, dramatic and you seethe. “You asshole. What’s so—”

You poke your head out of the bathroom, your eyes widening.

“She’s literally never even acknowledged his existence unless he’s validating one of her stupid opinions!” You hiss. “The fuck does she want with him?”

Your hisses are whispered and William shrugs, wiping at your lips before reaching into your pocket, pulling out your lip combo.

“I don’t know but it’s probably just—”

“William, she’s touching his arm. Oh, God, the world is spinning and I’m smelling pennies.” You groan, leaning back against the cool frame of the door and your hand moves to clutch at your heart over your shirt.

“Someone took my bitch, Willy.” You whimper, bringing your fist up to your mouth, teeth digging into the flesh as you bite down on your knuckles.

“I’m gonna end up on Channel 5, I just know it.”

William watches Amber and Mark, seeing the way Mark smiles. All sweet and bubbly, watching the way Amber laughs and the hand on Mark’s shoulder gives a nice, lingering squeeze.

“No, no one’s taking your bitch. I promise. Look at me.” William reassures, before his hands move to cradle your face, forcing you to look at him.

“Look. At. Me.” He takes a breath. “That is your man. You’ve listened to Seance Dog lore for fucking hours. No one deserves to ride that… Awkward, socially anxious… Permanently stressed… nerdy pony more than you.”

“You’re really bad at— oh, Willy, she’s really close. Girl, I’m gonna crash out.”

And William huffs.

“Amber doesn’t have shit on you. So what if she’s pretty, and smart and she always smells like the Bahamas. Or actually like... More specifically a daiquiri I had when I was eight and my family went there for vacation. But listen to me."

William forces you to look deep into his eyes.

"She does not have shit on you."

And you glance back at Amber and Mark, your spirit crumbling like a cookie when you see the way she pats his chest, her hand lingering and sliding just a bit to ghost over his abs as she passes him. And you nearly throw up.

"William, is this what Beyoncé felt like?"

"Yes." William answers immediately. "But this is your Lemonade moment. Babe, look at me."

And William sighs, his tone almost sympathetic as he whispers to you, "We be all night."

⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆

"Don't be an asshole. Get me a job here." Mark whines, brows knitted into a furrowing frown as he watches you weave between customerw and aisles, continuing to restock various shelves of comic books and paraphernalia.

"No, you're like, one of the biggest customers. Every time you buy a comic book, that's a dollar added to my end of year bonus." You cross your arm over one another, ignoring Mark as he trails behind you, plopping down in the chair near the register and he continues to nurse his Slurpee.

"What are you even gonna use the money for? My mom buys your groceries." Mark huffs and you whistle.

"Wow. First of all. The money my parents send me goes into my college fund, and secondly, your mom forcefully buys my shit. And thirdly, I pay her back." You defend.

"How?"

"I do her hair, I mow your lawn, I wash her car in jean shorts and a backwards baseball cap, not to mention, when she works from home, I'm her assistant."

And Mark scoffs. "You just bring her snacks and take her calls."

"Because her own son doesn't even wanna feed his loving mother."

Mark can barely muster a response, his jaw going slack at your retort and it takes him a few moments to recuperate. "How dare y—"

"I dare easily."

Mark rolls his eyes, pink lips wrapping around his straw once again as he watches you interact with customers. You've got the sweetest smile, pointing out which comic franchise each aisle is dedicated to. And his eyes fall to where your palms are braced on the glass counter, limited edition comics displayed underneath and he watches the way your manicured nails tap at the glass absentmindedly.

You've got pretty hands.

Nice fingers, well kept and the softest palms, and you always know how to accessorize without looking tacky.

And he clears his throat.

"You got that limited edition Seance Dog yet?"

"Yeah, but can you afford it?"

And Mark scoffs. "How much?"

"110." You raise a brow in amusement when you watch Mark swallow heavy, his Adam's apple bobbing. Before he purses his lips. "And you can't hold it for me?" And you shake your head, lips tugged downwards into a mock sympathy expression.

"You know, I can buy it for you. But then I need a favour." You lean forward, elbows braced on the counter and Mark's pretty sure his ears stop working because all he can focus on, is how that pretty pendant dangles from your neck, right above your cleavage. You're giving him the minimal view down your shirt, and he's acting like a damn dog.

"Uh huh?" He squeaks out.

"Everytime I change my sheets, I want you to put the fitted sheet on my mattress." You cross your arms over your chest. "No matter where you are, what you're doing, who you're with."

"Deal!"

⋆⑅˚₊୨🌻🌼🪻୧₊˚⑅⋆

"You spent... A hundred and ten dollars... On a picture book?" Debbie deadpans, eyes narrowing at you from behind cucumber slices, her hand in yours as you continue to file at her nails. She rests back in the recliner, her legs stretched out, foam separaters between her toes as she allows herself to be pampered.

"It's a Seance Dog comic." You hum. "It's got like... Extra panels as to how he became like... Seance Dog. I don't know why, but Mark seems to like it."

And she lets out a breath.

"What even—" "He's an anthropomorphic dog. And he's kinda based on Doctor Strange. Like, costume wise."

"Who?"

"It's a Marvel character. He's like, a wizard."

"Then why's he called 'doctor'?"

"Because he's a doctor."

"Then why is he still a wizard?"

"Because he's a surgeon and a wizard."

"Do his parents know he's running around in a cape?"

"I think his parents are dead, Miss Debbie."

And she winces. "Died of shame?"

"No..." You snort. "They don't really... Go into much detail about that. Or they do, I don't know. I'm not very into Marvel."

And Debbie lets out a quiet sigh, toes flexing and she lifts one of the slices from her eyes, glancing towards where you're busy with her nails.

"Could we try an almond shape? A little bit longer." You note the way it's hard for her to meet your gaze and you gasp.

"Miss Deborah, you dirty dog." You snicker. "Gel build?"

And she nods her head. "The nude pink."

"Can I expect Mark sleep—"

"Without a doubt."

"God—" Mark pants. "Are you just randomly helping people put up water towers?"

"No." Nolan hums, arms crossed over his chest as he watches Mark steady the metallic storage item. "However, these people needed help and you were in the area."

"You were too."

"Who's the hero and who's the rookie?"

And Mark huffs, arms crossed over his chest before his phone buzzes in his suit and Mark fishes the device out of his pocket.

Number 1⭐: 'your mom's gonna get her 🐱 ate'.

He stares at the text, his expression faltering before he stares at Nolan, his lips pressing into a thin line that slowly morphs into a grimace. The longer he stares at his father, the more his expression crumples.

And the more his expression crumples, the wider Nolan grins, already having a mild idea of what the text read.

"You know, you ought to marry a girl like that." Nolan hums. "Smart, funny, likeable."

"She's a massive dick." Mark huffs, sliding his phone back into his pocket before he crosses his arms over his chest. Lips tugged into a disgruntled frown.

"That falls under 'funny', son." Nolan states.

"Well, that's too bad. I've already got a girl I like. Her name's Amber and—"

"Can Amber fight, Mark?"

The question is abrupt and Mark's brows knit in confusion.

"Huh? I— I don't— I'm not sure."

"Cause Amber's gonna need to." Nolan states. "At some point... in the near future."

"Why would Amber need to know how to fight?"

"Because, Mark, one day, she'll need to." And he coughs. "One day soon."

"Soon?!"

"Well... Soon by Viltrumite standards."

⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆

Mark spends yet another night in your company, his shoulder against yours as you both stare up at your ceiling. Phones on charge, the lights shut off and the only other light being the slivers of moonlight that creep through your curtains.

"You know, you never told me your hero name." You state softly, your voice just as quiet as the raindrops that patter down onto the grass outside, pelting against your window and Mark hums quietly.

His hair's damp from his shower, his broad shoulders stretching yet another of your shirts although this time, it's an 'I Heart GILFS' T-shirt.

"Invincible."

There's a quiet silence between you and Mark glances towards you, only to see you already looking at him. Your expression is blank, unreadable and he can't fight the laughter that bubbles from his lips when you turn your back to him.

Pulling the covers up to your chin.

"Oh come on, it's not bad!" Mark giggles, a muscular arm wrapping around your waist and he pulls you towards him.

And the room gets quiet for a wholenew reason.

The warmth of his body is intense, the way his breath fans across your neck and the way his fingertips press into the softness of your belly.

And he dips his head, lips ghosting over your jaw as he cranes to meet your gaze.

He's grinning, dimples in his cheeks and shadows playing on his features.

"You're just jealous."

"Jealous of what, Vincible?"

"Jealous of my aweso— man, fuck you."

T🌼A🌼G🌼L🌼I🌼S🌼T

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[hellfirenacht]

Options

Fic Summary: Eddie had a casual thing going, but when that ends he realizes he has more options than he thought. SMUT

Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, fem!reader, slightly-experienced!Eddie, virgin!Reader but don't make it weird, friends to lovers, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, porn with plot, or maybe plot with porn, drug use (weed), two idiots figuring things out, slightly ambiguous ending, no use of y/n, Reader is not described

Notes: No beta, what am I a fish?

Word Count: 7.8k words

Master List

Eddie had known he was being used, he wasn’t an idiot despite the fact that she thought he was. He knew from the second that she asked him to meet her behind the school what she wanted, and for once he gave in. 

It had happened twice before, and with both of those girls he shot them down immediately and walked away. Aside from not being interested, those girls were too young for him anyway. 

It was obvious that Heather wanted more than a dime bag when she sat at the picnic table. Eddie didn’t do subtle, and neither did she. He had been ready to turn her down and walk away but he didn’t. He should have, but he didn’t. 

Maybe it was because she actually talked to him before the exchange. Buttered him up with questions about his band and his pins. Maybe it was the way she sat on top of the table and had her skirt hiked up to a dangerous level. 

The most likely reason is that she wasn’t a kid and Eddie was just a guy. An 18 year old and a 20 year old hooking up wasn’t a crime. 

It lasted longer than he thought it would. 

Three months this went on, sneaking around and never being seen together. It had been fun at first, a little dangerous. For a while it made him feel like being a freak wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Hearing someone scream his name in pleasure was a lot better than out of anger. 

The first month was the best. 

The second month, things were getting strained. Rick always says that pleasure was the business, but in Eddie’s case the pleasure was ruining his business. He couldn’t keep cutting deals with her, and he was barely making enough to buy more from Rick. Plus condoms were way more expensive than he thought. Eddie would cheap out on a lot of things, but condoms and guitar strings were not it. 

Heather was also getting bored by the third month. She stopped asking him questions and stopped talking to him. She didn’t even stay to cuddle, or she’d kick him out of her place after getting what she wanted. Sometimes even before he got his. 

The sex was fun until it wasn’t. It became mechanical, uninteresting. Screams of pleasure now sounded shrill and fake like some of the bad pornos he’d sneak from the local novelty shop. Eddie found himself enjoying the company of his right hand more than Heather as the end of the third month came to a close. 

It was a relief when Heather and Jacob were seen walking down the halls hand in hand passing Eddie’s locker that day. No words were needed, just a look from Heather that made it clear that it was over. 

That was fine. He hadn’t been in love with her or anything, but it stung. Girls didn’t want Eddie Munson, they wanted the Freak, the Drug Dealer, the Guitar Player. 

Okay fine, girls didn’t even want those things from him most of the time. Any girl that attempted to flirt with him was either clearly making fun of him, or just wanted bragging rights. Even those girls were so few and far between. 

Eddie was never looking to be anyone’s boyfriend. He has other priorities; his band, his club, his friends, his van, his Uncle. All of that came before things like romance or dating. 

Sex, however, fluctuated on that list. He was a healthy young man after all. 

Wayne had just left for work, and Eddie had closed the curtains and turned off the lights in the living room before popping in his favorite VHS into the player. 

It didn’t do anything for him. 

Eddie waited for the excitement to build inside of him but the longer he watched the less interested he became. The moaning sounded too forced, and the girls just weren’t doing it for him like before. 

But he had nothing else to do so he kept watching, not even paying attention. His eyes glazed over and he found himself thinking of anything other than what was supposed to be his distraction for the evening. 

He wished he had a joint, but Heather had taken his last one. Rick was out of town for the next few days. 

The only thing that snapped him out of his haze was the sound of the door slamming open, and you bargain in like you owned the place. 

“Jesus!” Eddie jumped and grabbed a pillow and held it over his crotch, which wasn’t even necessary as his pants were still fully up and he was barely half-hard. Eddie panicked and scrambled for the remote, pushing every wrong button to try and turn off the stupid porno. 

“Bad time?” you asked dryly, walking over and looking point blank at the tv where some blond chick was bent over a table while being pounded. From this angle it was hard to tell if it was in her pussy or her ass. 

“Don’t you ever fucking knock?!” Eddie asked as he finally managed to turn the tv off, plunging the room into darkness. 

“Not when it’s important.” You said, still looking at the now blank tv. “Are your pants up yet?”

Eddie set aside the pillow and turned on a lamp. “They were never off. It wasn’t doing anything for me.” He was being more honest than he intended. You two were friends, good friends even. Eddie would consider everyone in Hellfire a good friend. Despite his lapse in judgement with Heather, Eddie didn’t really do casual.

Eddie liked passion, he liked knowing that he was alive. He wanted to feel wanted. Maybe that’s why he spent those three months with Heather. At least she tried to make him feel wanted for a moment before she got bored. 

You turned around to look at him with a disappointed frown. 

“What? Can’t a man enjoy an evening alone with his porno collection?” Eddie asked. It wasn’t like you to be judgemental about sex, he knew for a fact that you had your own small collection of dirty pictures and romance books. 

You took a deep breath and sat next to him on the couch, turning to face him. Eddie stiffened a little, noting the irony that every part of him was now a bit more stiff except for the part that he had wanted to earlier. 

“Eddie... where have you been?” you asked carefully. 

Eddie was surprised at the question and a little confused. “I don’t know what you mean. I’ve been here or at school or-”

“I mean, yeah.” you interrupted. “You’ve still been at school and running Hellfire, and at the Hideout but...” You stopped and furrowed your eyebrows as if you were unsure how to really finish your sentence. 

“But...?” Eddie crossed his arms over his chest. 

“It’s like you aren’t around. We all keep trying to hang out with you and you keep blowing us off. You stopped hanging out after band practice with Jeff, Doug keeps trying to get you to hang out to talk about the new D&D expansion, and every time I ask you to hang out you say you’re busy.” You finally manage to say. 

Eddie flinched, and rested a foot on the coffee table. “I’m allowed to have a life outside of school, you know.” He was being defensive, and he knew it. 

“Yes, and that’s fine!” you said quickly. “You’re allowed to have other things going but I- we miss you.”

Shit. Eddie felt like a heel at those words. He hadn’t meant to blow his friends off for Heather, it just happened. He figured as long as he was still running the game and showing up for practice then everything would be fine. 

Eddie had wanted to feel wanted, but had turned his back on the people who actually wanted to be around him. 

Damn Heather and her short skirts. 

No, that wasn’t completely fair. She had been honest about what she wanted. Heather wanted sex and cheap weed. Eddie, as much as he would never want to admit to it, had craved something deeper. Not with Heather, per say, but just in general. 

Eddie was never looking to be someone’s boyfriend, but for a while it was nice to act like one. It was a complicated feeling. 

“Sorry.” He said, more to the discarded pillow than to you. “Things have been weird these past few months. My schedule has just cleared up though so I’ll be around more.” 

There was silence from you for a long while, and Eddie was worried that his apology wouldn’t be enough. 

“Did she dump you?”

Eddie froze in place and he felt all the blood drain from his face. How had you known...? 

“Wh.. what?” Eddie could only manage to force out as his mind scrambled for anything to say to either explain or get out of this conversation. 

“Heather. I uh, I saw you two in the forest on accident.” you said, messing with a rip in the couch. 

Eddie grabbed the pillow again and covered his face with a groan. “How much did you see?” he asked. 

“Enough to know that she’s willing to be shirtless when it was barely 40 degrees outside.” 

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie smacked his head on the pillow a few times as he heard you let out a small giggle. 

“I’m pretty sure I heard her say that, too.” You said, catching the pillow he had tried to smack you with. 

You grabbed the pillow and held into it now. “Did you like her?”

The question gave Eddie pause. “I don’t know.” He answered honestly. “I thought I could since she paid attention to me and at least tried to get to know me a little but...” 

You put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a rub. “I get it.” you said quietly. “Sorry you got dumped.”

“I’m more pissed that I spent so much on weed and condoms.” Eddie admitted, feeling relieved that he had someone to talk to about this for now. “She cleaned me out of my stash, and Rick’s out of town.”

You gave him a shit-eating grin. “Who’s your best friend?” you asked. 

“Jeff.” Eddie said immediately, not even thinking. 

“Damn, that was cold.” you cackled, reaching into your pocket and pulling out the ugliest joint Eddie had ever seen. “I guess you don’t want to share then, so I’ll just keep this to myself-”

“Shit- wait- you-” Eddie stumbled over his words. “You! You’re my best friend. Right now.”

“Just right now?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Right now and alternating Fridays.” He promised. 

“Good enough.” You decided as you handed over the joint. 

He took it and stared at the slightly crumpled paper in his hand. “Who rolled this?”

“I did.”

“This is... shit.” he said. “Hold on, I at least still have some papers.” Eddie said and you rolled your eyes and he hopped up to run to his room. 

“It wouldn’t be shit if I had my normal guy to roll for me!” you called after him. 

“You had three months to learn!” He yelled back, rummaging through his drawers. 

“I did, and apparently it’s not good enough for you!” 

Eddie’s laugh echoed through the trailer and he came out, turning on a lamp as he did, and it felt good to actually laugh again. He began quickly disassembling your joint and reassembling it with fresh papers. 

“I came all this way with a joint as a peace offering to make sure we were still friends and it wasn’t good enough.” You sighed dramatically, leaning against his shoulder with all of your weight. 

Eddie’s head snapped up to look at you, but his hair was in the way. He nudged you off and turned to look at you. “You thought we weren’t friends?”

“You stopped talking to me outside of school.” you said. “We barely talked during Hellfire, and you’d always run off the second you were done with your gigs at the Hideout. I thought I’d done something wrong until I saw...” 

Eddie let out a deep sigh and went back to rolling the joint. “Sorry,” he said. “It wasn’t just you, I was blowing off everyone-”

“While Heather was blowing you.” you nodded, leaning against him again. Eddie winced but did not argue. He licked the paper and finished the joint. 

“Let’s go outside.” Eddie said. “Wayne’s been on my case about smoking inside.” 

The two of you made your way outside the trailer, and further away from the park where no one would bother you or smell what you were doing. Just because it was a trailer park, it didn’t mean that some of the neighbors wouldn’t call the police for something so stupid. 

The chill of late winter had turned into a mild spring, and there were patches of grass that weren’t as brown as the others, and a few were even green. Eddie led you to a nicer patch of grass that was down wind and lit the joint, taking a hit. It wasn’t the best weed, but it was free and he had no right to complain when you were sharing with him. 

It was comfortable standing outside with you. Despite not having seen you in what felt like years, conversation flowed easily between the two of you as the joint was passed back and forth until it was no more than ashes under Eddie’s sneaker. You caught him up on any gossip you knew, while Eddie pretended not to care about how two cheerleaders were caught kissing and the scandal it caused. 

The two of you drifted back to the trailer, collapsing on the couch. You leaned against his shoulder again and Eddie stared at the black reflected glass of the TV. Well, you two were high and he figured some background noise would be entertaining. Without thinking, he reached out and turned it back on. 

The two of you were back on the site of the porno that Eddie had been half-heartedly watching earlier. The VHS had still been going, even if the TV was off. Eddie scrambled to find the right button to turn it off, forgetting in his haze that the tape player didn’t have a remote and he’d have to walk over and manually turn it off. 

You, however, burst into a mess of giggles at the sight of the actress bouncing on her coworkers dick like it was her job.

Well, wait, it was her job. 

“No, no, leave it!” You said as Eddie made a move to get up. “I wanna see what you’re jerking it to.” 

You had always been open when it came to things like sex, but the high seemed to remove your filter entirely. Eddie leaned back on the couch again, so thrown off by the request that he couldn’t think of a reason to say no. 

“So, is there a plot?” you asked, giggling harder every time there was a close up of the man’s balls. “Is she a poor young woman who couldn’t pay the plumber? A mishap with the pizza man when she forgot her wallet?”

“Uh, no plot.” Eddie said, his head swirling with the weed and the surreal situation he’d found himself in. Tonight he was supposed to be watching this alone as a pity party, not with his friend laughing about what got his dick hard. 

Shit, was his dick getting hard?

“It’s just a bunch of scenes from others in the series.” He clarified, coughing. Eddie glanced at the opposite corner of the couch, groaning internally at how far away the pillow was. 

“A ‘best of’ clip show? Not my usual style, but I see the appeal.” and despite your giggles, you still didn’t have any real judgement in your voice. 

“Yeah? And what are you getting off to?” he asked, deciding if he can’t beat it ‘em, join ‘em. 

“I like my porn with a little more plot.” you said, still staring at the tv. “It’s not enough to know that two people are getting it on, I need to know why they’re fucking to really get into it.”

“So porn never does it for you?” 

“No, I’ll still get off to these videos, it’s just not as satisfying. It’s just easier to get off knowing that the woman is going to be able to pay for the pizza.” 

This time it was Eddie’s turn to burst into laughter, which only made the two of you laugh harder. You slipped from his shoulder, face landing on his thigh was a small thud and another round of muffled giggles from you. Eddie was just thankful you didn’t slide face first into his boner, for a number of reasons. 

When you made no move to get up, Eddie rested a hand on your shoulder, enjoying the weight of you with his mild high. 

You pointed to the tv, where the current actress was bouncing at a different angle. “Did she do that?” you asked. 

“Yeah,” he said, honestly. Fuck it, what was there to lose now? “She was more shrill though.”

“What about that?” You asked, when the position changed to doggy style. 

“Did that, too.” Eddie sighed, watching the film. Watching this made him think that maybe, perhaps, Heather had been putting on a performance with him. “Usually in the van.”

“The van?!” You gasped, scandalized. “Eddie, we use that van!”

“We did that in the front seat, too.” he motioned to the new position on screen. “It... wasn’t good.”

And so, that became the new topic of conversation between the two of you. Every new position that was being shown on screen, you asked about and Eddie answered honestly. His boner kept fluctuating between half-hard and full mast as the two of you chatted. 

“Was she your first?” you asked, when the conversation died down. Your voice was quieter now, almost hesitant? Eddie couldn’t be sure. 

Eddie was quiet for a long moment. “Yeah.” he finally said. “I mean, I had a blowjob before last summer but... yeah. She was my first.”

You didn’t say anything to that, and Eddie wondered if you had fallen asleep. “Who made the first move?” 

“She did. She was just in it for cheap weed and sex.” He wasn’t proud of it. “And it’s not like she was a kid or anything, she’s eighteen.” 

“I know, I know,” you waved your hand. “You aren’t a creep.”

“It’s not like I’m drowning in options here in Hawkins.” Eddie said, feeling like he needed to defend himself, despite knowing you weren’t judging him. “Everyone at school is too young, and my reputation doesn’t really get me many dates.”

“You could have asked me.”

The words were so quiet, they were almost drowned out by the obnoxious dirty talk that the man on screen was doing to the woman. Eddie froze for what must have felt like a minute, trying to convince myself that you had said what he thought he heard. 

“What?” 

“If you just were looking to fool around, you could have.... Asked me." The last two words were even quieter, but unmistakable. 

Why did Eddie’s dick suddenly feel harder than it had in days? Why was he now just noticing that the woman on screen had damn near the exact same body type as you? Why was he now imagining trying the position on screen with you? 

You must have taken his stunned silence as awkwardness and so you pointed as the scene changed again. “Did she do that?” You asked as the woman started blowing the man.

“No.” Eddie said, and that got you moving. You sat up and turned to look at him, your face a bit too close to his.

“Really? No blowjob?” You looked scandalized and that amused him. 

“She wasn’t really into oral.” Eddie shrugged. “I didn’t go down on her either.”

“You don’t do that?” 

“No! Wait- yes-” Eddie was thrown off for the hundredth time today by your line of questioning. “I would have. I wanted to.” 

“And she said no?!” This seemed to be the most offensive thing Eddie could have said to you. “She’s seen your tongue and the fact that you never shut up and said no?!” You were practically gaping at him. 

“She wasn’t into oral.” Eddie repeted, glancing at your lips for the briefest moment before meeting your eyes again. 

You could have asked me. What would your lips look like wrapped around his-  

Jesus Christ, what was he doing?

You could have asked me.

You were an option this whole time?! 

Time seemed to stay still between the two of you. Your face looked warm, and Eddie had a bad feeling his wasn’t much different. He swallowed, trying to decide if he was allowed to be thinking the thoughts that were now rushing through his brain of you and the porno and all your damn questions. 

“Why the curiosity about everything?” Eddie blurted out the first question that came to his mind. “Wait, have you-?”

It was now your turn to be thrown off and you looked down. He really hoped his jeans were hiding his boner and that you weren’t looking too closely. 

“Like you said, freaks don’t have a lot of options around here.” You shrugged, trying to play it off. “No one’s really looking to date the local burnout.”

“You could have asked me.” Eddie didn’t really know it was true until the words came out of his mouth. Maybe it was the weed, or the boner, or the porn, or the fact that your hand was resting on his thigh- yeah, you were quickly climbing up to the top of the People Eddie Munson Would Realistically Date list. 

Fine, you were the only one on the list right now. But fuck, quality over quantity, right?

“You didn’t seem interested in dating.” you said, and he didn’t miss the way your eye flicked down to his lips for the briefest second. 

Why the fuck was the tape still playing? Shouldn’t a moment like this deserve a better soundtrack than fake porn moans?!

“I don’t know if I’m really boyfriend material.” Eddie admitted. “I’m kind of a mess.”

“So am I.” you said in a half laugh. 

Yeah, of everyone else in Hawkins you probably understood him the most. You had been a good enough student in school until you weren’t, and had dropped out when offered an extra year of high school. Eddie almost did the same, once, before Wayne convinced him otherwise. 

What did Eddie even have left to lose? This night was weird enough. 

The first kiss was fast, but firm. A press of his lips to yours for just a moment before pulling back. That movement seemed to sober you both up, realizing what you were doing. Your eyes were less hazy, far more focused and aware than before. 

You mimicked the kiss, letting your lips linger just a bit longer than his before pulling back as well. 

Neither of you pulled back from the third kiss. 

With some awkward adjusting and shifting, you were moved to straddle Eddie’s lap, and his hands rested on your hips as tongue was added to the mix. He could taste the weed on you, reminiscent of Heather but without the cherry flavored lip gloss. Your hands rested on his shoulder, slowly rubbing down his chest and then back up which felt good. Then your fingers slid into the back of his hair and that felt really good. 

Why hadn’t he just asked you? 

Your hips shifted and pressed against the straining bulge in his jeans. “Is that for me or her?” you asked against his lips, motioning your head just slightly towards the tv. 

“You.” Eddie didn’t hesitate for a moment, before sliding his tongue into your mouth before you could ask any more dumb or distracting questions. 

One of his hands slid up and under your stomach, feeling the warmth of your skin there. He felt the way your stomach flexed slightly, as if he had accidentally tickled you and pressed his hand more firmly down. His hand crept up on instinct before stopping himself just before your chest. 

Shit, you had just said you were a virgin, right? How far should he be asking to go-

The thought barely crossed his mind as one of your hands slid down his arm and pushed up on his elbow, elevating his hand those much wanted few inches so that his palm was now resting on top of your bra. Eddie groaned and gave your covered breast a squeeze, which you arched into. 

Eddie’s fingers traced over your bra, squeezing occasionally as he tested out your reactions. His hands followed the path of your bra strap to the clasp and he pinched so that it came undone. 

“Oh good, I don’t have to teach you that.” You laughed softly against his lips before pulling back to slide off your shirt. It only got a little tangled with your loose bra before falling to the floor. 

Boobs.

Eddie was a simple man, and the sight of your chest out and free and bare was the most beautiful thing he’d seen all night. There had been plenty of tits on screen this evening, but nothing would compare to the real thing right in front of his face. 

They jiggled as you laughed. “My eyes are up here- oh.” Eddie knew where your eyes were, but they were not his focus as he dove in and immediately latched onto one of your nipples while rolling the other. 

You arched into his mouth, and tangled your fingers into his hair more. He groaned as you tugged at the roots at the base of his neck, and flicked his tongue against your hardened nipple. As he played with your tits, your hips started rocking against his crotch and Eddie tried to adjust himself so that you’d be rubbing against his cock. 

“Knew you’d be good with your tongue.” You sighed, as he swapped to your other breast. You leaned down and grabbed the back of his shirt and gave it a tug. Eddie was quick to pull it off and toss it aside in record time so that he could get back to playing with your breasts. 

He probably could have stayed there for hours if you hadn’t pulled him back up into a kiss, letting your tongue flick out to tease his before sliding your lips down to his neck. You pushed his hair out of the way, and Eddie tilted his head back against the couch, one hand moving backup to your breast.

“Hickies?” You breathed into his ear, which resulted in a full body shudder from him. 

“Only if I can leave them on you too- fuck-” he had barely agreed before your lips had latched onto the side of his neck and began sucking hard. If he had any thoughts outside of how good it felt, he might have wondered if he’d be able to cover the forming bruise with his hair. That Monday he would be walking around the school with a low ponytail, where rumors would fly between him getting lucky or having been attacked by leeches. 

“Jesus Christ...” he breathed out as you attacked the side of his neck, alternating between soft pecks, hot open mouthed kisses, and an assortment of hickies. “Thought you were a virgin.”

You pulled back, giving him an incredulous look; it was one you often gave him during d&d. “Don’t make this weird, Eddie.” you said. “I’ve made out before.”

“Sorry,” he said quickly and to try and salvage the mood he leaned in and nipped at your neck. “I won’t make it weird.” 

“Save that for next time.” Your voice hitched and your hands gripped his arms as he started mimicking the way you had been kissing his neck. When he felt you shudder or grip his arm tighter, he focused on that spot until you started rocking your hips again. 

Eddie slipped one hand down your side, resting at the top of your shorts and rubbing his thumb against the button. You reacted by reaching down and unbuttoning it yourself to give him the go ahead. 

With you unzipped now, Eddie slid his hand into your shorts but didn’t get very far. The material wasn’t stretching enough and the angle was awkward for his wrist. 

“Might need a different position for that.” you laughed as he removed his hand. 

“Should we go to my room?” Eddie looked up at you, hoping that question didn’t backfire on him. 

“You should turn the porno off, first.” you climbed off of him and grabbed your discarded clothes. “I don’t think Wayne wants to walk in on that.” 

In the midst of making out, the tape had FINALLY stopped rolling, and was running through the end credits. Rewinding could wait, Eddie quickly ejected the tape and shoved it back in it’s generic looking sleeve. When he turned, you were already heading towards his bedroom, topless. 

He had never seen a back that looked so sexy in his life. 

You had dropped your clothes at the side of the bed, and when Eddie tossed the tape aside you grabbed him by the belt and pulled him close, barely giving him time to close the door. You were kissing him again, deeper and more passionately this time as the two of you scrambled to push down each other's pants. 

Eddie pushed you onto the bed, and he had to stop himself from cumming in his boxers at the sight of you panting and in your underwear in his sheets. You were looking up at him as if he were the only person in the world that mattered right now, and there was a clear damp spot on your panties. 

Heather had never been to Eddie’s trailer except once, when he had to grab a special purchase from his room. She had refused to come in, as if being seen at Forest Hills was an embarrassment. All of their time had been in his van parked in secluded spots, in the forest behind the school, or at her home. 

Seeing you in his bed, wanting him, was too much to take. 

He was on top of you again, kissing your neck as his fingers pulled down your panties. You kicked them aside as he started kissing down your body again. 

“Please tell me I can go down on you.” Eddie’s head was hovering right over your hips, looking up at you.

Your legs spread at the plea, and you didn’t waste time with words as you pushed his head down to where he desperately wanted to be. 

It took one lick of your slit for Eddie to be pissed at himself. He could have been doing this the whole time?! His arms wrapped around your thighs and his tongue dove in to explore every part of your pussy. You squirmed against his face, gasping and gripping his hair. 

“Fuck- Eddie....!” you gasped, in a way that only encouraged him. 

Eddie was quick to find a rhythm with his tongue that you seemed to like by the way you were letting out quiet whines. You weren’t nearly as loud as she had been, and so every gasp and sigh of his name was a victory to him. He spread your lips to get a better look at you and found himself grinding against his mattress at the site. You were wet, there was no question about that and it wasn’t just from his tongue either. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” your voice was breathless, and the corners of your mouth were turned up. 

“I don’t have a camera.” Eddie nipped at your thigh making you jump. “...I might get one now though.”

“Not on your life. There’s no way I’m gonna let pictures of me like that be dropped off to an hour-photo.”

“What if I got a polaroid instead? Instant development.” 

Eddie felt a special kind of high, the kind that only came when he was running a really good session or when he was playing with his band during a really good set. He didn’t know that sex could be more than just mindlessly horny- he was having fun. 

No one told him that this was an option, dammit. 

“Put a pin in that.” you laughed. 

“I have something else I’d rather put in you.” Eddie said as his finger started to ease into you. 

“Fuck.... if this didn’t feel so good I’d kick you out of bed.” you laughed breathlessly. 

“Kick me out of my own bed?” Eddie looked at you amused as he started rocking his finger in and out. 

“Wouldn’t even feel bad about ih--ohh- oh god-” You stopped talking, your sounds now turned into louder gasps and whines as Eddie curled his finger up and found that sweet spot. 

“Found your off switch.” he said with a shit eating smirk as he started massaging your g-spot. 

“Fuck... you....” you whimpered, your heart clearly not in it. Your legs were squirming as he stroked your inner walls, as if you couldn’t decide if you wanted to push him away or beg for more. 

“We’ll get to that.” Eddie said and decided to put his tongue to better use as he leaned back in to wrap his lips around your clit and start licking again. 

Eddie lost himself between your legs, and he had no idea how long he was down there. He always had an oral fixation, and was quick to decide this was now one of his favorite things to do with his mouth. 

You were getting louder, which only spurred him on more. His tongue worked fast against your clit while he kept a more steady pace with his finger. When he decided you were as wet as you were going to get he carefully started to push in a second digit which slid in easier than expected. He was rewarded with his name being moaned, and your walls clenching around his fingers. 

One of your thighs started trembling, which had to be a good sign. Your fingers tightened in his hair and your core was starting to tense up. 

Eddie didn’t expect you to actually start begging.  

“Fuck- please don’t stop.” you gasped out. “Please, Eddie I’m so close please, please please-” 

Eddie had no plans to stop, and he would have happily stayed there all night if you let him. He didn’t stop his pace, keeping everything exactly as what he was doing because if it was working he didn’t want to risk you losing the orgasm he was working so hard to build. 

You came with a strangled cry, and he felt the way your walls throbbed and squeezed around his fingers. He sucked on your clit until you had to push him away from over-sensitivity. 

You were left breathless on the bed, your body completely melted into his sheets. Eddie wiped his mouth and moved up to kiss up your neck to your lips again. You had tasted so good, he had to share. 

When he finally pulled back, he was looking down at you with what had to be a goofy smile. Those past three months were becoming less and less appealing in hindsight. 

“You really never did that before?” you asked, tracing the puppet strings on his arm. 

“I’m a quick learner when I’m excited.” he replied, and you pulled him close to kiss his neck again. The kisses were softer this time, as if an apology for the myriad of hickies he was sure was on his neck now. 

Legs wrapped around his hips and pulled him closer. Your hands trailed along his chest, and Eddie settled between your legs. He rocked his hips, enjoying the feeling of his cock rubbing up against your pussy. 

You pulled him back into a kiss, which was happily returned. Eddie was more than willing to give you all the time you needed to recover, though he would be lying if he wasn’t already thinking about other positions to get his mouth on you. 

Eddie grunted as you suddenly pushed and rolled the two of you over, and you were now straddling his hips, grinding against his cock. 

“Fuck” he groaned, grabbing your thighs. He watched the way your hips rolled hypnotically and he bit the inside of his cheek to not cum. 

“Your turn.” You purred, your nails scratching down his chest in a way that made his eyes roll back and his hips buck slightly. His turn? Had Eddie ever had a turn? He was so used to being the one in charge lately, in Hellfire or band practice or sex- “Do you have any condoms?”

Eddie’s brain exploded. Violently. When he came to his mind raced for where he hed put the small box of condoms. 

“Dresser-” he finally managed to choke out. “Should be on the dresser.”

You slid off him and walked over to the dresser, which was covered in discarded clothes, a cigarette tray and more than a few empty beer cans. He made a mental note to try and clean up more next time. 

He really hoped there would be a next time. 

The sight of your ass swaying and slightly bent over his dresser was one that he would engrain into his memory forever. He could name about a half-dozen W.A.S.P. songs that suddenly felt very relatable. 

You turned around with the condom box, giving him a look that worried him. You turned the open box over and nothing fell out. 

“Oh, fuck me.” Eddie groaned, sitting up on his elbow. 

“Yeah, that’s not happening without a condom.” you said dryly. “Guess she really wiped you out, huh?” 

Eddie fell back on the bed with a groan. “Yeah, I guess so.”

You tossed the box to the side and crawled onto the bed again, spreading his legs and settling yourself between them. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna leave you high and dry.” you said, placing a kiss to his hip bone. 

He looked down at you, feeling his cock twitch at the way you licked your lips. 

“Shit- you don’t have to-” 

“Eddie, when have I ever done something I didn’t want to do?” you asked as your hand wrapped around his shaft. 

“G-good point.” he choked out. Your hands were softer than he had expected and you gave his cock a slow stroke aided by your wetness that was still on his shaft.

“Just let me know what feels good.” you said, leaning in and licking him from base to tip. Eddie was torn between closing his eyes and laying back and staring at you intently as you played with his cock experimentally. 

You leaned over him, using his thigh for a bit of leverage as you wrapped your lips around his tip and let your tongue slide over the sensitive skin of his head. He let out a low groan, trying not to thrust up into your mouth. You were being a tease whether you meant to or not with the way you were taking your time licking and sucking him.

“I can’t promise I can let you fuck my throat, but I’ll do what I can.” you said when you pulled back after a few minutes. Eddie couldn’t stop himself from laughing at how casually you said it, as if you were talking about fixing his amp for the hundredth time. “Something funny, Eddie?”

“You just said that so casually.” he giggled, remembering that he was also high from earlier. His laughter was contagious, and soon you were giggling again to. 

His cock was only half-hard by the time you two were done giggling, but that quickly changed when you leaned in and wrapped your lips around him again. You slid him about half-way into your mouth before stopping, and wrapped your hand around the base of his shaft. 

Eddie Munson had been given one blowjob before the previous summer by a girl he met a town over at a small show he had been playing with Corroded Coffin. That night he had felt like a rockstar getting blown by a groupie, and hide rode that high for months. 

You, admittedly, were not nearly as experienced as that girl had been but he didn’t care. Seeing you, one of his best friends, blowing him sent a thrill up his spine more exciting than the fantasy he had lived out. This was different and he was far too gone to try and figure out why. He just wanted to keep you here with your enthusiastic mouth on his throbbing cock. The way you were humming around his cock and looking up at him occasionally made it clear that you really wanted him to feel good. 

No one told him that someone just wanting to make him feel good was a fucking option.

You sucked his cock as if this was the one thing you had wanted to do all day. Your head moved up and down enthusiastically and your tongue was everywhere. For the first few minutes you would occasionally come up to breathe before finding your rhythm and learning to breath through your nose. 

Eddie’s orgasm came far quicker than he would have liked. He was still so worked up from eating you out and learning a lot about how he enjoyed sex that it only took about ten minutes before he was pushing on your shoulder to warn you that he was going to blow. 

He should be embarrassed. Eddie was gasping and letting our sounds that were damn near whining as you pulled away. You were panting, your lips a touch swollen and eyes glazed over as you jerked his cock. 

Eddie’s hand wrapped around yours, guiding it to the pace he needed to spill all over himself and his stomach. He really hoped that next time he’d be able to cum on your tits or in your mouth. Please, let that fucking be an option-

You grabbed his discarded shirt and cleaned him up, and Eddie made a note to do laundry soon. You wiped your mouth and collapsed next to him, and he reached for you. 

He wished he hadn’t been so surprised when you easily cuddled up against him, resting your head on his shoulder. “I knew your tongue would be good. She really fucking missed out.” you said, your arm laying across his chest. 

“I studied only the best techniques.” Eddie said, holding you just a bit tighter. Cuddling after sex (or whatever it was the two of you had done) felt just as good as getting off. Well, maybe second only to getting you off. 

“How much porn do you watch?” you laughed. 

“I have three tapes and a stash of magazines.” Eddie said honestly, because why would he need to hide that from someone he was so close to. Heather had once glimpsed one of the tamer issues of Heavy Metal that he had in his van and had rolled her eyes in disgust. 

“We’ll have to swap material sometime.” you suggested, looking up at him. “Or we can do a movie night like we used to. Just more hands on.” 

“So there’s really gonna be a next time?” Eddie asked. 

“I mean, I’d like there to be. I would really like there to be.” There was a slight waiver in your voice, the kind that he knew when you were considering a risky move in D&D. 

“It’ll probably be a while before I can afford condoms.” He admitted. “I’m kinda wiped for cash until Rick comes back.”

“Oh no. You’ll have to use your mouth on me again. How awful. However shall we go on?” you sighed in a dramatic fashion. “Oh well, if I must sit upon your face next time then so be it!”

Eddie could live with that. He was more than okay with that. 

“Well, if you’re sure you’re fine with that, then I’ll just have to grin and bear it.” He said, matching your tone of dramatic exasperation. 

The two of you laid there for a moment in silence, coming down from the highs of orgasms and weed. 

“This isn’t going to make things weird, right?” you asked after a few minutes. “I don’t want this to be... I don’t know. I liked doing this with you, and I don’t want this to fuck up what we have.” 

Eddie had been so lost in the strangeness of the evening, he hadn’t really stopped to consider the consequences of what would happen after. “I won’t make it weird.” he promised. “I’m not about to start being nice to you during the game just because you blew me.”

“Good, I’d be mad if you did.” you shook your head. “We don’t need to label this but.. If we’re gonna be doing this more, just know that I’m only going to be doing this with you.”

“I don’t exactly have a lot of people around here banging on my door to get a piece of this.” Eddie motioned to his dick. “Even if I did, I'd rather just be messing around with one person.”

You grabbed his flaccid dick and gave it a wiggle, laughing at the way it moved. Eddie felt that he should maybe be offended at you laughing at his cock, but he fought himself laughing at the weird feeling. 

“Little Eddie isn’t going near anyone else.” he said as you kept wiggling it. 

You dropped his cock finally, which had started to wake up again from the attention. 

“Nevermind, I’m never touching it again after you called your dick that.” you cackled. 

Eddie rolled over and hovered over you. “I can live with that as long as I get to go down on you again.” 

“Oh my God-”

“Just Eddie is fine.” 

You half-heartedly pushed him, your eyes alight as you looked up at him. 

“So... when does your uncle come home?” you asked. 

“Not until about six or seven.” He looked down at you, his cock already coming back to life again. 

“Wanna go again?” 

“Only if we can cuddle after.” 

“Deal.” 

By the time the two of you had passed out in his bed, Eddie had realized that maybe there was more to life than just the bullshit hand he had been dealt. And as you lay next to him, wearing one of his shirts while asleep next to him, he started thinking... 

When given an option, he would prefer you as his first choice. 

Author Notes: I might write a sequel later if I feel like it but we'll see lmao. This wasn't originally Eddie x Reader, it was just a character study but then I got horny lmao.

Tag List: @sheneedsrocknroll92 @ghcstpyre @wheels-of-despair @crocwork-clockodile @cyanfairywren @justalotoffanfiction @ihaventgotaclue-really

[mariasont]

dangerous currents

sharing a wall with hotch means resorting to a midnight swim, you weren't expecting him to join you

pairing: aaron hotchner x sweetheart!reader warnings: fem!reader, midnight swim, reader alluding to some naughty thoughts, hotch accidentally grabs readers ass prompt: here wc: 1.2k

Honestly, you don’t recall consciously deciding to go swimming. One minute you’re wrestling with sheets that somehow manage to be both itchy and disappointingly thin, trapped in the endless loop of your overly chatty brain, and the next you’re thigh-deep in moonlit waves, saltwater lapping around you like a peace offering for your misery.

If you’re being brutally honest (and lately, brutal honesty seems to be your new best friend), your insomnia might have something, just a smidge, to do with Hotch lying just inches away, separated by drywall and what might as well be actual paper for insulation.

Your hearing has leveled up overnight, picking up every breath, every toss and turn from his side. 

It feels wrong, intrusive even, but also exhilaratingly intimate.

Which explains why, at two in the morning, you’re out here, counting on saltwater to settle your overactive mind and extinguish the stubborn heat flooding your face.

You’re mid-float when your instincts snap you upright, adrenaline spiking so fast you almost inhale a lungful of ocean.

There’s a shadow on the shoreline.

But then it steps forward, moonlight carving out the unmistakable angles of a handsome face that sends your stomach tumbling into your feet for a different but no less stressful reason.

Hotch.

You could laugh or cry, but instead, you quietly make your way towards the shore, waves breaking around your ankles.

“You scared me half to death,” you mumble, hugging your arms around your chilled body and feeling every bit like a reckless kid who’s just disappointed the one person she desperately wanted to impress.

“Do you know how unsafe it is to swim alone at night?” His lips press into a straight line. “Anything could’ve happened, and none of us would have any idea.”

“Sorry,” you exhale, sincerity tangled up with humiliation as your gaze flickers upward through wet lashes. 

You mean it. Of course you do — he looks worried, and that worry always seems worse when it’s aimed directly at you.

Hotch studies you for a second, then asks, “Do you plan on coming inside anytime soon?”

Going inside would be simpler. Easier. You could neatly sidestep this entire messy situation.

But the moment you close the door behind you, it’s back to square one — too quiet, too dark, thoughts screaming at you in surround sound.

A single creak of his bed, and suddenly you’re in dangerous territory. What if he sleeps shirtless? Or in boxers? What if that sound he just made is the result of an indecent dream?

And then, somehow, you are the indecent one, palms tingling with a restless need that used to feel rare but lately shows up with frustrating frequency.

All because of him.

“I think I’ll stay out for a little longer,” you say, tossing a forced shrug. “The ocean hasn’t tried to kill me yet, so I figure we’re on decent terms.” 

Hotch arches a brow at that, clearly unamused. He glances at the ocean, then back to you, a silent calculation taking place behind dark eyes.

Then, without warning, he grabs the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one fluid motion, folding it once before tossing it onto the sand.

“What are you doing?”

He gives you a faint, reckless half-smile. “Making a bad decision.”

You laugh, more out of shock than anything else.

He steps toward the water, shirtless, and suddenly every thought you’ve ever had vacates your head.

Sure, yesterday you’d seen him on the beach, but that was distant and crowded, shielded by sunglasses and casual team conversation. 

Here, now, it’s just you, him, and the unsparing glow of moonlight revealing every agonizing thing you absolutely shouldn't notice. Like the dark dusting of chest hair, the disciplined sculpt of muscle across his torso, the line of hair drawing your gaze lower, lower —

You swallow roughly, stepping deeper into the water to physically pull yourself out of danger, but your gaze betrays you once more, darting sideways in helpless fascination.

“How did you know I was out here?”

“You’re not exactly quiet.”

Your blood turns to ice, then instantly flares hot. How did it never occur to you that if you could practically track his breathing patterns, he could easily have heard your shifting, your whispered curses, or worse, that one barely suppressed sigh when your imagination got carried away earlier.

“I guess not,” you mutter, “I didn’t realize you were listening.”

His laugh is quiet but genuine, and you’re surprised to find yourself smiling in return. How bizarre yet wonderful it is to witness the softer version of Hotch, miles away from the person he has to be at Quantico. You suddenly want very much to keep him like this.

“Funny,” he murmurs, “I was thinking the same thing about you.”

Your face instantly burns, and you’re suddenly extremely grateful for the darkness, although knowing your luck, that probably isn’t really doing you any favors. You force a shaky laugh, pretending you didn’t just hear the tease in his voice, or at least pretending it didn’t affect you.

“You really didn’t have to come out here,” you say, eyes fixed stubbornly on the horizon past his shoulders. “I would’ve been fine, you know.”

The water rises around your collarbones, licking under your chin with every small movement. Hotch stands barely submerged past his chest. Even nature is unreasonably biased toward him.

You dig your toes deeper into the sand, resisting the tide and the impulse that keeps nudging you closer to him.

“Someone has to make sure you don’t drown.” 

You open your mouth — to protest, maybe flirt (wishful thinking, obviously), or perhaps just awkwardly deflect — but before you can embarrass yourself further, a sudden wave crashes forward, knocking you straight into him.

Hotch barely budges, absorbing most of your momentum, but your hands land catastrophically. One lands safely on his chest, but the other falls disproportionately lower, fingers splayed over the enticing line of hair disappearing beneath his waistband. 

Simultaneously, his own hand catches your hip, then slides, firm and unintentional, on your ass.

Both of you freeze. 

“Sorry — I — um, the wave.” As if that clarifies anything at all.

Beneath your hand, his stomach tenses, his chest lifting with increasingly rapid breaths.

Still, Hotch doesn’t move, doesn't shift away. His palm stays exactly where it landed, warm, and surely, he has to know exactly what he’s doing. He has to.

“You’re freezing.”

“I —,” you start but whatever you meant to say disappears before it finishes forming. 

He slowly, almost reluctantly lifts his hand from you. Your skin sparks at the loss, hypersensitive where he just was.

When you meet his eyes again, something new flickers there — something you’re certain wasn’t present before tonight. 

Want.

It’s a look he’s taught you to recognize — eyes darkening, pupils dilating, respiration just a bit quicker. Except this isn’t an interrogation room, and the person in front of you is not a suspect, he’s Hotch.

And this want feels very, very personal.

But he only nods once, then glances toward the beach house.

“We should get out of the water.” 

You don’t want to get out. Every part of you rebels at the idea of leaving this bubble. This fragile space that’s somehow made everything else feel distant, unreal.

But you can’t deny the truth in what he doesn't say. If this boundary were broken tonight, there’s no going back, no returning to the careful neutrality you’ve both perfected.

So, you nod slowly, forcing acceptance as your heart protests.

He moves first, and you fall into step beside him, close enough that your shadows merge.

join me at the beach for my 1 year/4k event!

💌 click here to check in → confirm your room (and crush)

maria's spring break getaway masterlist

[shrinkingviol-3-ts]

Ok sooooo here's some harm reduction t1ps for 4n4. This may not apply to everyone and that's ok but no matter what just be safe, angels 🙏

1. This is difficult and I 100% get it but try not to go under 1000, especially if you are highly active. This will absolutely wreck your body. What you CAN do is do increments of less than that but no longer than a month at one time. You can also incorporate f4sting days which are actually very healthy for you. Think about how survival used to be. Obviously humans weren't eating a whole bunch of c4ls daily and even went without anything for a day or more. You will be ok BUT it's important to stay at 1000 for most of the time. You will lose very fast I promise. It won't be insanely fast like if you were to e4t only 200 per day but you will lose as long as you are consistent.

2. Take your fucking vitamins. You need a multivitamin, iron supplement if you're anemic or prone to anemia(let's be honest most 4n4s are), fish oil for your brain and heart(or if you're veggie chia seeds have a good amount of healthy fat I believe), B12, and electrolytes daily ESPECIALLY if you are working out a lot or pvrg1ng. You lose minerals through your sweat, vomit and diarrhea and an electrolyte imbalance can fuuuuuck your shit up and even lead to heart attack if gone untreated for a long time

3. Hydrate like your life depends on it. Most 4n4s are pretty good about this but drink yo mf agua

4. You do not have to do intense workouts for you to lose. Everything you do burns c4ls the best way you can do this without being super hard on your heart is clean. Cleaning burns up to 300 c4ls per hour. Just zone out and deep clean everything. Also pacing, fidgeting, standing, dancing, moving your body in some way while watching your favorite show for hours will burn the same amount of c4ls as if you took a medium paced walk for hours. Effective and sooooo much better on your body.

5. Protein. Get at least 50 g per day and you'll be alright. There's lots of low c4l sources of protein, both animal and veggie but try not to go under because you will feel incredibly weak and won't be able to think(your brain is a muscle hehe)

6. Get enough sleep if possible. This will help your body in the long run

These also help reduce the amount of b1nges you will experience 💖

Plus, these will keep you looking hot AF(healthy hair nails and skin PLUS sk1nni?? girllll) and keep from arousing suspicion due to poor health.

Remember no matter what YOU. ARE. VALID.

[eunandonly]

FAKE DATING WITH BOYNEXTDOOR

fake dating boynextdoor was easy–until it started feeling real

( 対 ) boynextdoor + fem. reader 1477WC · fake dating trope contains! fake dating, skinship, language / archive

은 : i'm going to try my best to be a bit more active on blr now that i'm on spring break >< i hope you guys enjoy this fic!! ily <3

myung jaehyun 

when you ask myung jaehyun to fake date, he agrees to it immediately, flashing you that signature smirk. it almost worries you when you see the grin. you know he’s up to absolutely no good.

he treats it like a game at first, but you find the way he slips into the role so effortlessly almost unnerving. he throws his arm over your shoulder in public, calling you “babe” without hesitation and teases you whenever you get flustered. 

“you’re blushing,” he whispers, lips barely grazing your ear as you try to keep your face neutral. “are you falling for me already?”

cocky bastard.

jaehyun finds your reactions entertaining, but there’s a strange possessiveness in the way he glares at anyone who talks to you, or looks at you a bit too long. he nearly punches a guy trying to get your phone number, and when you call him out, he just shrugs, claiming that it “needs to be convincing.”

he takes you by surprise by remembering little things about you, how you take your coffee, your favourite snack. he brushes it off with a casual “a boyfriend would do this.” 

but the longer this goes on, the less it feels fake. you catch him staring when he thinks you’re not looking, his teasing flirty remarks losing its playfulness. 

“you know,” he says one day, his voice softer than usual. “i think I might've forgotten to pretend.”

park sungho

sungho hesitates when you first tell him your idea. you tell him it’s a great idea; fake dating so that you can get your ex boyfriend back, and he can get back his ex girlfriend. killing two birds with one stone, you say. sungho’s not too sure, but he gives in after some begging from your side.

sungho isn’t sure why, but the thought of pretending to be your boyfriend makes him unreasonably nervous. 

at first, he’s awkward–stuttering over pet names, clearing his throat when you hold his hand. but he still finds himself holding doors open for you, carrying your things without being asked, offering you his jacket when the weather gets chilly. the first time you kiss him, it’s on the cheek, and sungho practically freezes, ears tomato red as he tries his best to avoid your gaze. 

“we should practice more,” he says out of the blue one day. “it needs to be convincing.”

you’re quick to tell him that you’re already being convincing, that it’s him that’s the problem.

sungho’s careful with boundaries, always asking, ‘is this okay?” before touching you in any way. but then things start shifting, there’s no denying it. he texts you good morning without thinking, lingers a little too long after fixing your scarf, gets defensive when someone asks about your relationship. 

park sungho doesn’t realise he’s falling until it’s too late.

“i don’t want this to be fake anymore,” he says one night, standing outside your door whilst fidgeting with his sleeves. “forget about my ex, i want you.”

lee sanghyuk

riwoo finds the whole situation really fucking funny. 

“fake dating? how desperately do you want that asshole back? yeah, i’ll do it, it’s gonna be so fun.”

yeah well, it's fun. for him.

from the moment you two announce your “relationship”, he plays it up like you’re in some kind of terribly cliche, terribly cheesy romance movie, throwing dramatic love confessions at random.

“my love, i would walk through fire for you!” he declares loudly in the school hallway, before snickering as you try your best to do damage control to no avail. 

riwoo’s constantly teasing, winking at you in class and whispering stupid things like, “careful, you might actually fall for me.” just to see your face redden in embarrassment. but then there are moments when he tones it down, and it’s a bit too natural–the way he rests his head on your shoulder when he’s tired, or the way his hand absentmindedly finds yours.

“why’re you blushing?” he teases, but he’s blushing too. 

the problem is, he never knows himself when he’s joking and when he’s being serious. he tells himself it’s just an act, just a way for you to get back your dickhead boyfriend who looks like a two out of ten. but he finds his heart stuttering when you look at him just right. 

and soon, riwoo finds himself wishing the act would never end. 

one day he turns to you, his usual stupid grin plastered on his face, but there’s something softer behind it. 

“so, uh, what if we didn’t stop fake dating?”

han dongmin

when you ask han taesan to be your fake boyfriend to make you ex jealous, he barely reacts. barely even raises his head, murmuring, “sure,” as if you just asked him to pass the salt. 

annoying little bitch.

but beneath his cool, nonchalant exterior (that’s what he thinks), his mind is racing.

he’s not the person for over-the-type gestures, but he shows affection in the smallest ways–remembering your favourite drink order, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, pulling you closer when walking near traffic. you applaud his for being boyfriend material and make a point to very loudly wonder why he’s never had a girlfriend before remembering, aha, his personality is shit.

han taesan insists he doesn’t care about pda, but if someone questions your relationship, he’ll kiss your cheek without a second thought. 

“see? believable.” he says, ignoring the way his heart is pounding. he does it so naturally that even he forgets it’s fake sometimes. he texts you late at night to check if you’ve eaten and gets irritated when other guys get too close. but taesan’s stubborn, and he spends most of his time gaslighting himself that he doesn’t like you like that, brushing it off as just an act. 

then one day, he catches himself staring, thinking how you look a little bit too pretty, hands itching to reach for yours. 

“you said i’m boyfriend material, right?” he asks, catching you by surprise.

“yeah sure.”

“ok, well how about you give up on your shitty ex and we date for real? i’m like, hotter than him too.”

kim donghyun

leehan takes the whole fake dating thing very, very seriously. when you tell him about your ideas, he looks more determined than you, face serious as he says, “if we’re going to do this, we really have to sell it.” you end up having to ask him if he has an ex girlfriend he wants back, because there’s no way he should be this invested in the whole plan.

he makes you practice with him; holding hands, casual touches, so it looks natural. but the more you two practice, the more it starts feeling real. he’s always respectful, never crossing boundaries and always asking if you’re comfortable. but he’s a little too good at being a boyfriend. he ties your shoelaces when they come undone, carries your bag without you asking and smiles at you in a way that makes your heart ache. 

“why’re you looking at me like that?” you ask one day when you catch him staring at you in the restaurant on one of your fake dates. 

leehan just grins. “because you’re cute.”

it’s moments like these that make you forget this isn’t real. but then he starts getting flustered–hesitating before calling you pet names, looking away too quickly when you catch him staring. he’s the first to realise his feelings, but it takes him forever to act on them.

one evening, he exhales deeply before turning to you. “so… what if we kept dating?” he asks, nervous but hopeful. “for real this time?”

kim woonhak

woonhak is way too excited to date you. yeah, it’s fake, but he’s still technically dating you. he’s already planning out cute couple photos. 

woonhak fully commits, calling you cute nicknames, being your personal hype boy, and practically beaming with excitement when you’re around.

you think he’s kind of cute.

“this is my girlfriend,” woonhak announces to everyone, holding your hand. “she’s so pretty isn’t she? yeah, well she’s super smart as well, and-”

he’s affectionate without realising–holding your hand, fixing your hair, resting his chin on your shoulder. it’s all a joke to him at first, but then he starts feeling weird.

why does his heart race when you smile at him? why does he hate seeing other people flirt with you?

“i’m not jealous,” he insists, but his pout says otherwise. 

one day, you joke about breaking up just to see his reaction, and he gasps dramatically.

“if we ‘break up, i’m keeping the dog we don’t have.” 

but behind the playful tone, there’s real fear. he’s known for a while now, this isn’t fake to him anymore. one evening, as you’re walking home together, he suddenly blurts out, “wait, you didn’t know? i fell for you ages ago.”

[cherrygirlfriend]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ i'll come to you as the first snow

pairing: rafe x reader synopsis: rafe's dead fiancée comes to pay him a visit. warnings/tags: angst, fluff wc: 1.6k a/n; inspired by this fic by me.

rafe masterlist ♡

rafe really wasn't sure what had been going on in his life for the past three months; because whenever he was awake, there was a glass of whiskey in his hand. and whatever he did remember, seemed to just be a piece of the puzzle.

one moment he was in his bed, looking at pictures of the two of you on his phone; the next moment he was weeping at your grave, his forehead pressed against your cold headstone, the next moment he woke up on a random beach on kildare island.

he knew you wouldn't approve. he knew that if you were there, you'd be telling him all about how it was an 'unhealthy coping mechanism', and how if you were alive, you'd give him the silent treatment until he promised to stop; but the thing was; you weren't there anymore. he used to roll his eyes when you used to tell him to eat better, sleep more, or drink less; but now he'd give just about anything to hear you scolding him.

the moment he found out about the accident that took you from him, the first thing rafe thought about was coke; because in his mind, that would take it all away. it would make him numb, it would make sure he wouldn't feel your death.

his first stop after having to see the aftermath of your accident was at barry's. but the moment he'd lined up four lines of the white powder with his black amex, a rolled up dollar bill between his fingers, rafe was brought back to when you were helping him get clean, holding him in your arms in the pitch-black room as he shook in your arms, his entire body covered in sweat while also being freezing cold, how hard you worked to get him through withdrawals. and he just couldn't do it.

so his only way to cope was by sinking his feelings in a bottle of overpriced whiskey, but no matter how much he drank, no matter if he blacked out, the first thing he thought about when he woke up, and the last thing he thought about when he fell asleep was always you.

and the worst thing was, the signs of your existence were slowly starting to fade. the shirts and hoodies you'd stolen from him and claimed as your own now smelled like laundry detergent, instead of the usual mixture of your perfume and sweat, the shape of your head was no longer imprinted onto the pillow right next to his, and the worst thing was that he was starting to forget the way your soft skin felt under his fingers.

rafe was sitting on the living room couch, his eyes half-lidded and heart beating slowly in his chest, a pill bottle knocked over on the coffee table in front of him, a few tablets having spilled out of it, a framed picture of the two of you from the day he'd asked you to marry him right next to him, the man rolling a half-empty glass of whiskey in his hand before taking one last swig, reveling in the way the ember liquid burned as it went down his throat. the last thing he could register was the thud of the glass as it slipped from his weak grasp and fell onto the plush carpet you'd picked out.

"come on, you can't sleep in the living room..."

rafe was half-asleep as he started to hear a familiar voice starting to come through the haze, but what started to pull him back to consciousness was the feel of a warm, soft, hand on his cheek, a thumb stroking the stubble on his skin, and as he breathed in, he could smell the cherry-scented lotion he could recognize anywhere.

his eyes were so heavy, but rafe was determined to open them, and finally when he managed to get them halfway open, in front of them was the blurry outline of someone he immediately recognized. he didn't have to see her features, because for the entire time he'd known her, she'd somehow always seemed brighter to him than anything else in the world. rafe smiled, reaching out to touch the outline's cheek. "am i dead?" rafe asked as her features slowly started to become clearer.

"no, silly." you let out a small chuckle, and he could see the way your eyes shone as you rolled them, "how about we get you to bed, sweetie?"

"alright..." rafe groaned, letting himself lean his weight on you, and as you stumbled towards the bedroom you shared, you let out adorable little laughs whenever he nearly tripped, until eventually, his back hit the soft mattress, an exaggerated groan leaving his lips.

you laughed as you climbed into bed on your own side, nuzzling into his embrace, your head on his chest, rafe's arm automatically wrapping around you and pulling you close to him. he smiled, but when his gaze turned to you, something about it changed; it became wistful, longing. his eyes turned glassy, as he looked at you, his lip trembling.

"what's wrong?" you asked, your eyes furrowing together as you brought your hand to his cheek, stroking it with your thumb, "hey, talk to me, rafe..."

"this isn't real." if he didn't feel his lips move, rafe would've thought that the person saying those words was someone else; his voice was so weak, so shaky, so different from the usual firm, confident tone he spoke in. "i'm just high, or drunk, and hallucinating." he sniffled, "and when i wake up, you're gonna be gone."

rafe didn't even notice the warm tear that rolled down his cheek until you wiped it away with your thumb, taking a deep breath as you looked at him, "i'm sorry, rafe." you said softly, pressing a kiss on his clothed chest, "i wish i could be here."

"i always thought that you'd be the one person who'd never leave me. that you'd be the thing that... that lasted forever. that i'd get to wake up next to you every morning until we're grey and wrinkled and shit." rafe chuckled bitterly, "why couldn't that happen? why does everyone always leave me?"

you bit down on your lip and sniffled, continuing to stroke your cheek, "if it was up to me i would've stayed. i would've stayed forever." you brought your face closer to his, pressing your nose against his, looking into his eyes, glimmering with tears, your reflection in his dilated pupils, "i need you to know that, rafe." you whispered, "i would've never abandoned you."

rafe hid his face into your shoulder, racked sobs muffled by your shirt. you moved your hand to stroke his hair, letting out small shh's as he cried into you, his hold on you tightening, as if you'd disappear. and he would be right. so you just let him cry as you stroked his hair.

eventually, he took a shaky breath and pulled back slightly; the sleeve of your shirt was wet with tears, and so were rafe's cheeks. you smiled softly, wiping the tears away from his skin. "i'm always going to be with you, you know."

"what, like in my heart?" he chuckled dryly, letting out an accidental sniffle.

"well, yeah." you smile, cupping his cheek, "but also in the moon when you look up at night. in the stars, in every raindrop that rains down. in the first snow and each one after that, in every word you speak, and every ." you brought your face closer to his, "i'm saying that i'm in everything around you. you're not getting rid of me that easily."

"promise?"

"i promise." you said softly, bringing your lips to his, and for the first time since your death, rafe felt something much better than happiness; he felt serenity. the way your lips molded against his seemed to be the thing that completed him, that managed to fill a small fraction of the hole in his chest that seemed irreparable since you left.

when you pulled away from the kiss, the both of you let out shaky breaths, and when you opened your eyes, you saw your smile mirrored on his face. "promise to me that you'll take care of yourself." you said softly, "because i can't take it if you wreck yourself. it hurts me more than anything in the world."

rafe took in a shaky breath, his nose pressed against you as he closed his eyes, leaning into the feeling of your warm hand on his cheek, "i promise." he mumbled, and even though he couldn't see it, he knew there was a smile on your face.

as rafe's eyes slowly fluttered open, the man felt as if he had gotten the best sleep in his entire life, but memories roamed back to him of last night, of you in his arms, and suddenly rafe started to feel enraged.

he clenched his jaw as he sat up in bed, throwing his pillow onto the floor; his brain had betrayed him, had made him think that he had you back, that you were right next-

rafe's brows furrowed as he looked to your side of the bed. on the pillow, there was an imprint of someone's head. and as he laid back down, smelling the sheets, he could make out the distinct scent of your signature perfume.

but the final nail of the coffin was when rafe lifted his head, looking out of the window.

first snow.

[punkpandapatrixk]

☃️What Typa City Actually Suits You~? ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

We were born into certain Fates, but our Destinies may look entirely different than those circumstances we found ourselves in at birth🚂Where you are in the world right now, if it isn't a place, an environment, a frequency that allows you to maintain balance, integrity and authenticity, perhaps it isn't really your Home⚓️Ain't where you belong, hon.

‘Home is not where you are born; home is where all your attempts to escape cease.’ — Naguib Mahfouz

Somewhere on this Planet your Home exists. Maybe your Soul Tribe can be found there as well☃️Your Home, is a place where you get to feel that you belong, in spite of shortcomings and disadvantages, no matter what, it feels effortless. It's an environment that has everything—well, maybe most things—you need to thrive. A frequency that just makes sense📻

The wind, the water, the earth, are calling~📠

Are you answering?

inspi: London & Madrid | IRENE's Sweet Simple Series

wispy: Kazamidori (Weather Vane) by Sakamoto Maaya

deck-bottom: XI Justice, Priestess of Wisdom, Red Physician (Galen of Pergamon)

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – People; Creativity; Intensity

vibe: Paris | IRENE's Sweet Simple Series

fate ain't Destiny – 3 of Pentacles

You were born into a world that has a strong sense of community. Some of you may have liked it a lot; some of you may have felt stifled and unable to focus on what you actually want. You've dreamt of a world where you can be a bit more individualistic. Go at your own pace and do creative shit that actually suits you. But it seems at times, your community doesn't understand your point of view. Generally speaking though, you aren't necessarily a loner—you do like people. You find people terribly interesting and you enjoy hearing their stories.

Essentially, you're a terrific listener. It's just that...where you came from...people are really quite foolish and uninteresting. You could die if you had to pretend any second longer that you actually cared what they have to say. The truth of the matter is, you've always wanted to be surrounded by diversity and meet people from unique backgrounds that wildly differ from your own. That's the kind of 'chit chat' you'd never tire of. When we say that you 'like people', we generally mean that you like extraordinarily interesting people.

You're someone who's quite intense, maybe that's why shallow conversations bore you to death. Where you came from, serious, intelligent, abstract conversations seem to scare the living shit out of most people. To you, people's interactions are mechanical at best. The Normies seem to operate on a very narrow range of selection of acceptable topics or themes of conversations. Thought-provoking discussions? Oh, never! Nobody wants a disaster! Sometimes, it makes you feel like a 52-hertz whale—the loneliest whale in the world.

where do I go? – Queen of Pentacles Rx

You'd like to be in a place where people care a bit less about what others are doing with their lives. Yeah sure, anywhere you go in the world nosy people exist, but a place where generally people keep to themselves would suit you better. At least that'd give you a bit more room to breathe, is what you think as a fundamental priority. A place where people wouldn't ask intrusive questions. A place where people respect personal space and will understand if you need some time to warm up before they can ask weirdly personal questions.

You'd like to go to a place where people wouldn't think ill of you just because you're eating lunch or dinner alone. It seems that you're mostly tired of having to care about or anticipate what people might think upon knowing or seeing this and that which you enjoy doing alone. You hate people being nosy or presumptuous like that. After all, what's so wrong with enjoying reading a book alone? What's so unacceptable about enjoying being indoors gardening or painting alone? It's not like you want to be alone; you just enjoy being creative on your own when there's nobody else to share or exchange interesting ideas with.

It looks like you've often had your gaze fixated on cities, countries and cultures where people appear to be far more free in pursuing their creative hobbies. You want to find your Muse; or perhaps you want to be someone's Muse. Your Soul wants you to make a career out of some wildly artistic pursuit, where the sky is the limit. A place far stranger than where you are now; perhaps one where you can hear the forests share their wisdom with you~

a Home to call my own – 7 of Pentacles Rx

The city that essentially suits your spiritual tastes is definitely a safe one. A high-trust society where crime rate is low and friends can always be relied upon even on your wildest night-outs. A city where it isn't difficult to find your way home or crash at someone's couch when the need arises. Even more importantly, a city where water and air are clean, and foods are aplenty and come in variety. Why is this important? For your mental sanity. You're the type that wants to be productive and creative.

That type of endeavour is surely to eat away at a person's sanity if they aren't surrounded by ease on the most fundamental level! You want to live in a city or country that's pretty~ Where the landscape is generally awe-inspiring; where it's easy to go to places that can immediately soothe your Soul on days you feel stressed out; where the traffic isn't crazy, so you can easily make plans to meet with your friends, for any kind of occasion. You just need a city where everything is there.

You don't mind rude people. You don't mind cold and detached people. All that matters is that most people leave you alone while the interesting ones are easy to befriend. Interesting people are rarely the sanest and creative ones can oftentimes be a little intense, but that's just what you like. You want to be surrounded by intensely powerful, smart individuals with whom the exchange of creative/artistic ideas can feel empowering, even world-changing~!

BELONGING🔻🧡

my Heart's a battleground – Red Astronomer (Johannes Kepler)

manifesting Heaven on Earth – Priestess of Fertility

Access bonus, cards + affs on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Serenity; Independence; Intellectualism

vibe: Amsterdam & Barcelona | IRENE's Sweet Simple Series

fate ain't Destiny – IX The Hermit

I've a feeling, you're generally a quiet and observant one. You are very attentive to the needs of other people. You have a heart that feels deeply and you notice everything. Some of you may have developed this ability, or sensitivity, through surviving a chaotic childhood. Perhaps at some point in Life you were constantly living on edge and had to learn to observe the moods of everybody around you. You became a master at this, but it's cost you a lot of your peace of mind and a general sense of ease.

Since you're incredibly tuned in, you can easily lose yourself in the vibes and moods of the people around you. This is definitely an empath issue hahah You can often be deeply overwhelmed by constantly feeling, sensing, or 'hearing' the thoughts and emotions and desires and intentions of the people you're interacting with. Sometimes you just don't even know which thoughts are yours or others'. It takes a looot just to maintain composure and remain functional. Society is exhausting for the most part.

That's why you've often dreamt of running away to a completely hidden city where no one knows you and live there for a while just to be able to catch your breath. You've wished there could be one moment where you don't get so distracted by other people's thoughts, aenergy, expectations and, judgement. If you could be honest, unfiltered, sometimes you're just tired of being polite to everyone. You wish you could scream in their faces or hit them in the head with a guitar just to shut them up.

where do I go? – 9 of Wands

I feel that you're someone who hasn't gotten enough recognition for your immensely high IQ or EQ. When you were growing up, the adults around you could've deprived you—very, very much—of emotional and spiritual nurturing. I think they just didn't know what to do with you. You often felt like you were much, much older than your parents. You easily noticed the small things they missed. What is essential is invisible to the eye. I guess you didn't always have a clear thought or words for this feeling, but it was...just a sensation.

And in a way, those circumstances could've caused you some degree of disillusionment, maybe even disappointment. Weren't adults supposed to be the better people? You could've thought that. And it was tiring feeling the way you did. In a sense, you never really thought of where you'd want to go, but you just wanted to be in nature. To be near the waters or the mountains. I think you like the company of rocks and plants and bugs LOL At least bugs don't ask you unnecessary questions or bore you with unintelligent conversations.

If you've graduated your First Saturn Return, chances are, your Soul is beginning to pull you towards a simpler lifestyle somewhere quieter, where there aren't that many Humans and nature is aplenty. Some of you may be attracted to the idea of moving to the countryside or even to a satoyama. I sense that your Soul wants to do something more meaningful with the time you have and you honestly don't mind the 'hard work' that may come with rural living, as long as the tiredness from excessive human interactions can be mitigated.

a Home to call my own – Queen of Swords

A place that would make you feel most at home is one where you get to indulge in much more intellectual pursuits. If you did decide to move to very, very rural, underdeveloped areas on the Planet, chances are...people's variety of intelligence may look very different than those living in far bigger cities, exposed to all kinds of foreign cultures. But I feel it isn't the human interactions you deeply care about. It's your own personal activities you are concerned with.

You seem like the type who wouldn't mind living an off-the-grid kind of existence. Maybe then, there you could become a lifestyle blogger/vlogger like nyangsoop or Li Ziqi. Perhaps in a quieter environment you can finally focus fully on that book you've been meaning to write. Stuff like that. You yearn to live, perhaps permanently, in a place where you can rest your tired Soul, where your everyday Life can be, at least, more easy breezy~

There's this calm lifestyle channel called Tomei that I think you may also resonate with. She doesn't live in a rural area (I think), but she manages to carve out her very own unique aesthetic and pace that allows her to live more slowly, reflectively and meditatively. It's a vibe like this I'm trying to illustrate :D Well, where ever it may be, as long as you get to manage a work—could be freelance or remote, too—with minimal human disruption, it seems you'd be plenty satisfied ^^v

BELONGING🔻💙

my Heart's a battleground – Gold Historian (Raphael Holinshed)

manifesting Heaven on Earth – Priestess of Enchantment

Access bonus, cards + affs on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – Inspiration; Futurism; Dynamism

vibe: Berlin | IRENE's Sweet Simple Series

fate ain't Destiny – Ace of Cups

There are people in this world with a penchant for romanticising the past. The are also those who possess the natural ability to be utterly present in the now. You? To your own surprise, perhaps, you think constantly about renewal, rebirth and the future of Mankind. At least, since you were a kid, if there were values in your society, nation, custom—or even race—that felt outdated or they simply didn't make much sense to you, deep down... You knew you were meant to break them.

Didn't matter your gender or race, whichever country or city, growing up you felt very restricted in comparison to other people you were observing. This was simply because your mind was that expansive. You felt like a fish yearning for the ocean whilst trapped in a bowl. Thus it was that you developed a yearning for places that would make you feel more alive. You're looking for a sense of dynamism and excitement.

More so, you want to be around strange and unusual people that you wouldn't find at all in your place of origin. You are very much attracted to alien beings. For example, if you had come from an artistic background instead, you'd probably dream of moving to a commerce city like Chicago because that's what you're interested in. And vice versa; you could've come from a high society like Rose in Titanic and dream of wildin' in the West LMAO

where do I go? – 0 The Fool

Basically, you're a textbook rebel. You may not look it on the outside, but deep down, you're always thinking of exploring the world and savouring all sensations and experiences. Which...sometimes could be dangerous if you're reckless. But the funny thing is, this daredevil approach to Life seems to be attracted to you more than you it. Maybe you have strong Aquarius/Uranus or Pisces/Neptune placements in your birth chart that's kinda spelled chaos and uncertainty for most of your Life.

There seems to be a cosmic force that governs your movements, sometime in spite of your wanting to remain static and settle down. That said, it's hard to say exactly what typa city actually suits you, because you seem to manifest on your own a movement towards either chaotic environments or cities that are constantly developing and changing. It's like, from deep within your psyche, you want to be dynamic and constantly growing in knowledge and experience.

I believe this is exactly because you're an Advanced Soul. You have a mission in this world—that's why you thirst for knowledge and first-hand experiences. You want to be in the scene of whatever interests you. You could be interested in music, modelling, acting, designing, whatever, really, and you want to be where the biggest players are. That said, capital cities or places that are called the 'melting pot' of cultures and ideas would suit you the best. Diversity and dynamism are your key interests.

a Home to call my own – 4 of Wands

With you, more than the idea of what kinda city you can call Home, it's what kinda scene you can find there. As long as you can find a community that resonates with you, a culture that for the most part aligns with your values, and making a living there is genuinely exciting, that's your place. Amazingly, I'm getting a sense for some of you that it literally doesn't matter what kinda city you live in as long as the Internet works well LMAO

A high-tech society is probably important for you because you're constantly working on the Net? Some of you could be professional gamers, huh? ;D I also see that you'd generally enjoy big cities that regularly hold massive gatherings like concerts, raves, art exhibitions, sporting events and/or other exciting, maybe fascinating, 'community events' and celebrations of a more 'global' scale. Cities where 'international' or 'multicultural' can really be felt.

Alongside artists and gamers, some of you tuning into this are probably scholars and you're looking forward to be in a city where the universities are famous. Cities that contain old, revered academic institutions are probably very attractive to you. Lastly, some of you are probably interested in being part of the tourism industry! Big cities that are often popular tourist destinations could likely offer job opportunities that feel dynamic and exhilarating for you ^o^/

BELONGING🔻💗

my Heart's a battleground – Gold Magus (Johannes Faustus)

manifesting Heaven on Earth – Priestess of Rebirth

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[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2]

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[tojisteddy]

A little comfort because I need him | cw: 18+ mdni, fluffy shit, dad bf!simon (idgaf), meanie!simon, lite dd!lg

You must’ve angered a God or something.

You’d had, had to since you had the shittest day to date. You were already working a shitty job (Ghost didn’t want you at), didn’t help that you gotten blamed for things you didn’t do, overstimulated by the rush of everything, forgotten your lunch, and to top it off, you’d missed your afternoon call with Ghost.

Don’t cry over spilled milk, they say— you were trying your best not to. All you needed to do was get home, shower, get in your favorite pj’s, make a nice cup of hot cocoa, snuggle up into your bed and watch an episode of your favorite comfort show. And you were this close (👌🏾this close) to finishing your plans.

A breakpoint— you’d dropped your favorite-absolute-must-use mug, a 90s looney tunes one, something your mom got you when you were six, on the floor.

Oh how badly you wanted to throw everything in the kitchen to the floor, punch and kick the walls, yell at something— crash out. But all that comes out is sobs and tears staining your face. Nothing was going right, even you having to go and get the fucking broom because who else was gonna clean up this mess?

Those loud thuds hit the wooden floor, until you hear that deep voice with a manc accent, filling the space, “Fucks happened?”

You sniff, once.

Twice.

“My mug broke,” your voice is straggled as you sweep up the white shards crushed with every movement. Oh god, your poor mug. Gone but not forgotten. Play Bye Bye by Mariah Carey.

The blonde follows you with his look, getting every piece of glass in the dust pan, wrapping its remnants in a plastic bag and into the trash. “Yer cryin’s loud, ‘ve got work to do.”

Simon, the scoundrel, oh so wise with his word choice, he was trying to get you to calm down, believe it or not. Tell you that whatever the fuck happened, you were okay. You’d sort it out together. Just how you needed sometimes, Daddy’d help. His words though, without fail, always got rearranged into the opposite when they came out.

You’d known that, but it didn’t mean it any hurt less.

You covered your mouth with the back of your hand, wragged breathes and muffled cries leaving your mouth, trying to side step that big oaf to put the broom and dustpan away. Mumbles of, ‘sorry’ and ‘give me a second.’

“Shit- didn’t mean- fuck, kid, come ‘ere.” Ghosts already pulling you close, thumbing away your tears. “you’re so mean Si.” You hiccuped, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“I’ve heard. Didn’t help I said that shit either, did it?”

“No! Today-today hicc- was fucking terrible.”

“Looks like it.” And he takes you in his arms, letting you wipe your snot and tears in his shirt. Once the crying have finally died down to soft sniffles, he pulls away slightly, just to get a look at you. A blabbered mess, his pretty babydoll was.

“Sit with pa till ya feel better, yeah?” before you can give him a reply, he’s lifting you bridal style and taking you down the hall to his office.

“But you’re working.” That damn pout forms on your full lips.

“So? Don’t wanna sit with your old man?” There’s a rumble from his stomach as he teases you, the ends of his lips slightly turning upward. You slap his chest and huff, wrapping your arms around his neck.

But that’s what does the trick after such a stressful day, the click clack of your boyfriends fingers on the computer keyboard as you sat in his lap, his chest rising and falling opposite of yours, his hands rubbing your thighs and waist everytime his fingers needed a break. Like magic.

You were out like a light, snuggling closer into his neck. Simon absolutely loves it, how comfortable you are with him, his baby, giving your temple a soft kiss, gently playing with the ends of your curly hair that was in a low ponytail, playing the music he’d known would keep his pretty girl rested longer.

The blonde would order you another mug on his second monitor, one that would look absolutely adorable in your hands even though he’d say it was ugly, that brought a smile on your face, and help ease your mind from days like this one.

a/n: this would’ve healed me and made me a better person yesterday istg cause my day was shit. I have a taglist for simon, lmk if you want to be on it (or dropped, my writing it’s— well, it’s something)

most recent masterlist

𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱<3: @figthoughts @tessakate

[twstwizard]

Your artwork and fanfics are awesome! Can I ask for a diasomnia with the reader who is Crowley or Cruel's daughter?

Family relations

Type: Headcanons, SFW, Fluff, Romantic or Platonic (Lilia is more Platonic)

Characters: Malleus Draconia; Lilia Vanrouge; Silver; Sebek Zigvolt; F!Reader

AN: Reader is Crowley's child here for comedic reasons

AN: Thank you so much for your kind words <3

Malleus Draconia

-Oh my, another fae blood in school? To which clan do you belong to? Oh... His condolences.

-While Malleus personally doesn't have any quarrels with the headmage, the prince is not blind. The man can confidently say that Crowley is not a father material whatsoever, let alone to someone who's important to Draconia as you.

- Malleus will do everything within his power to help you, be it money or simply lending an ear for you to rant about your no good flimflamer father. The man actively encourages you to spend more time in Diasomania, or even permanently move in there for general safety, or rather to be less bothered by your father.

- While Malleus understands that no parent is fully perfect, after all there's no thing as perfection in general, yet he does know that the opposite of a parent is Crowley. Draconia will be blackmailing or simply threatening if Crowley doesn't step up. Malleus is a prince for Seven's sake, what good is he if he can't help those close to him?

Lilia Vanrouge

-Oya? Crowley's girl you say?... Do you need a different father? Just kidding!... Unless you do want a different father-

- Vanrouge knows how hard it is to raise a child, been there done that. By no means does Lilia claim to be better, yet looking at Crowley makes him think that perhaps he is THE parent. Good for him, less good for you darling girl.

- The fae is genuinely worried for how well you're being take care of, judging by how responsible Headmaster with the College Lilia is afraid to ask if the old crow even remembers that he has a child. Ask anything you want of him! Vanrouge'll bring cookies if you wish. The old fae will pull on some strings too, to get Dire to become a better parent to you, after all what's the point of being a general if you can't do that?

- Lilia cannot help himself. A child with no parent, or in this case with Crowley for a father, which is basically the same thing, is his greatest weakness, he has to take care of you, even if you're somewhat against it.

Silver

-Oh you're also family with the Fae? Oh... It's Crowley. Oof.

-Silver doesn't belive himself to be an expert when it comes to raising children or being a parent in general, yet he knows that Crowley isn't good at it. Would you like to become his sibling or perhaps move into Diasomnia? His father won't mind, nor will Malleus.

- The young man tends to ask you more often about your overall being: how are you feeling today? Do you need anything? And etc. Silver sees how Crowley likes to dump his responsibilities onto others so he worries for how much you may have on your plate. Silver sticks around you longer, even when he falls asleep it tends to be near you now. Wake him up if you need any help.

- While the young man won't forcefully try to make Crowley do anything to make your life better, doesn't mean he's above making snarky remarks on how poorly the fae treats you or how neglectful he is. Pettiness is also a wepon if used correctly.

Sebek Zigvolt

- Ah! Another fae amids undeserving creatures that go to college- Wait, Dire?!

-While Sebek is very verbal about his views on faes in general, he's not blind. He has standards, Zigvolt knows who deserves his respect and who should be ashamed of themselves for marring the fae race by their ways of living.

- It is now his personal mission as a knight to fix such atrocity, he cannot allow any blemishes on faes reputation, so if poor parenting has to be fixed by someone, he shall do it! No, Sebek isn't aware that no one will think less of fae because of one stupid crow. Sebek now practically drags you into Diasomania, arranging a semi routine for you that is supposed to mimic a families schedule in a way, trying to ease your burden of being a daughter of the headmage.

- Zigvolt is still devoting most of his time to Malleus, yet some of his free time is full of concerns for you. His position as a student doesn't really stop him from making remarks to Crowley about older man's treatment of his daughter. He will not stand for such outrage.

[behold-dusk]

ᝰ.ᐟ THINKING ABOUT PHAINON AS YOUR BOYFRIEND! (MINORS DNI)

pairing(s) ⭑.ᐟ phainon x gn!reader themes ⭑.ᐟ fluff, nsfw cw ⭑.ᐟ mentions of oral, mentions of cum, modern snacks in hsr lmao, minimally implied that reader is a chyrsos heir a/n ⭑.ᐟ i tried my best to proofread and keep the reader gender neutral. i also got lazy during the nsfw part lol

word count ⭑.ᐟ 853

── .✦ PHAINON | SFW

ִ ࣪𖤐 This guy’s love language towards you? Phainon is generally a well-rounded partner. He does anything, but hands down, he loves physical touch and gift-giving the most. He doesn't JUST express his love, but also delivers.

ִ ࣪𖤐 Having his hands be able to hold you and feel every part of you brings him comfort in knowing you’re safe and not going anywhere. He also loves to give you small snacks every time he passes by your office door, occasionally dropping off Fruit Roll-ups and Gushers.

ִ ࣪𖤐 He gets promise rings with both your birthstones as the gemstones in the intricate silver pieces that wraps around both your ring fingers on your right hand. He strictly tells you not to wear it on your left ring finger because the engagement ring will be 10x as better and prettier than your promise ring.

ִ ࣪𖤐 When he’s out to battle against the Black Tide, he loops the ring around a string and wears it as a necklace because his hand is more prone to being injured and the ring has potential risks of breaking from friction and sweat. (And also because wearing it as a necklace keeps it closer to his heart.)

ִ ࣪𖤐 Not only that!! He kisses the ring before entering the battlefield as a silent prayer that he’ll come home, scathed or unscathed. He doesn’t care—he just wants to return home, to you.

ִ ࣪𖤐 He'll order takeout on nights that are harder than usual for you. Yes, Alfredo is good, but having it consecutively for 7 nights in a row is overkill, even for him. It's the only thing he can successfully make without killing both your taste buds.

ִ ࣪𖤐 Secretively, even though he's aware baking and cooking are different, he'll ask Mydei to teach him how to bake for you. He silently envies the way Mydei can make goodies that look straight out of bakeries. He sees the way you always drool over desserts displayed at windows and hopes he can make the cat shaped cupcakes you swoon over!

ִ ࣪𖤐 He. Is. A. Sucker. For. PDA.

ִ ࣪𖤐 If you guys are out running errands around the Holy City, he’ll just hold you by your waist and rest his head on your shoulder while you make small talk with the merchants about purchases. And it’s no surprise that when the trip is longer than expected and you’ve shown him less affection than he’d like, he'll start pressing gentle kisses on your shoulder and nape while swaying impatiently.

ִ ࣪𖤐 Then, when little kids stride by and point to you guys to their moms and ask, “What are they doing?” there’s an evident hue of red appearing on both your cheeks, but Phainon remains stubborn and refuses to let go with a small awkward grin towards the curious children.

ִ ࣪𖤐 When you scold him and dim down the PDA to just hand-holding, he sulks like a kicked puppy with a small frown tangled with a pout and stands idly beside you. His hands are occupied and full of grocery bags, knowing full well he won’t be able to hold your hand at all.

ִ ࣪𖤐 Phainon loves pushing you out of your comfort zone. He'll push you to comfort crying kids in the bustling streets of Okhema, he'll push you to dance with him at celebrations, etc. And when you recoil and tell him, "I'll embarrass myself," he tells you stupid cheesy motivation quotes like: "Day one? Or one day?", "Not taking that risk is a risk," "Don't fear failure, fear not trying," etc. LOL

ִ ࣪𖤐 You play a major role in his life, and he makes it extremely prominent. Like, actually, and it’s sickening. He’ll ask Tribbie to make cute emojis of you so he can spam them to you, he’ll tell Mydei about your talks and dates, and he’ll tell Aglaea, “Well, what would [name] say about this?” with a crossed arm and hand on his chin when it comes to big decisions regarding the Flame-Chase journey.

── .✦ PHAINON | NSFW

ִ ࣪𖤐 This man in bed? GOD, he fucking worships you. He loves to hear your whimpers, grunts, and moans. On top of that, he just loves seeing you squirm away.

ִ ࣪𖤐 He LOVES to give oral more than receiving it. Don’t get him wrong, it’s fucking heavenly when your pretty lips are wrapped around him, but feeling you buck away from overwhelming pleasure that he’s giving you makes it so much better.

ִ ࣪𖤐 He’s big into lingerie. Especially white lingerie with stocking garters. First time he saw you in white lacy lingerie with stocking garters he nearly cummed in his pants.

ִ ࣪𖤐 Something about seeing you covered in his loads of white is just so attractive to him. It awakens something feral and primal inside him that even he can’t understand or explain to you.

ִ ࣪𖤐 He doesn’t strike me as someone whose go-to is doggy, cowgirl, etc. (unless he’s jealous) he strikes me as someone who loves the legs-on-shoulder position. It just lets him settle and bury himself so deep inside you.

[houseofblve]

𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗒 𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖻 𝗌𝖾𝗑 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗋𝖺𝖿𝖾

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 (𝗆𝖽𝗇𝗂), 𝗉𝗎𝖻𝗅𝗂𝖼 𝗌𝖾𝗑, 𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝗏, 𝗎𝗇𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗑, 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗇𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍, 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽

rafe was the most impatient person you knew. when he wanted something, he wanted it right then and there. that's how you ended up in the empty locker room of the country club, rafe pushing you into a stall.

you'd blame it on him, on how he couldn't keep it in his pants, especially when you were wearing that skirt that was short enough to rile him up, but still long enough to be a tease.

he was wasting no time. not today. he sat on the closed lid of the toilet and tugged you onto his lap, groaning as he felt how you were bare underneath.

"no panties? bet you were fuckin' plannin' this, huh?"

your breath hitches at his lust-filled voice. "too hot out for 'em."

he let out a husky laugh and pushed your skirt up more, fingers pressing against your pussy just enough to make you whine pitifully. "wanted me to have easy access, more like."

you couldn't find the words to speak as the bulge in his shorts, that was just begging to be freed, rubbed right against your clit. "mmph- fuck rafe."

"shh, gotta be quiet, baby," he whispered, undoing his shorts and pulling them down along with his underwear, just enough for him to spring out, the cool air causing him to groan. "look what you fuckin' did to me, baby. came here to golf but you're so needy you won't even let me do that."

"can't help it," you struggled to get out, his tip running over the slick of your throbbing pussy.

"quiet. don't wanna get caught, do you?" rafe spoke, kissing your neck, the thought intensifying the heat in his belly.

"rafe, please," you begged. he loved hearing it. loved feeling in control. he wished he could have you like this forever, but he knew you had to hurry. he lifted you just enough to line himself to your opening, deliciously stretching you as you sank down on him, biting your lip to swallow your moan.

"mm, fuck baby," he cursed quietly, hands immediately tightening on your hips as your heat engulfed him. he starts you off slowly, wanting to savor this moment. eventually, he speeds up his pace, unable to resist any longer.

your head tips back as he hits places that nobody else would ever be able to, his grip on your thighs helping to bounce you on his cock, filling you over and over again.

he moans lowly, a bruising grip on your hips as he turns his head to whisper in your ear, his hot breath causing your pleasured noises to escape. "be quiet."

"trying," you breathe heavily. you both knew that was a lie.

he pressed his hand roughly over your mouth. "not hard enough. quiet." his voice was now dangerously warning, causing you to clench around him.

you let out a muffled whimper, hands gripping his polo to keep up with his desperate movements. he groaned, moving his hand off your mouth to kiss you, lips immediately dominating yours, tongue pushing into your mouth.

when your sweet sounds got too loud, he pulled away to put his hand back over your mouth. "be fuckin' quiet."

you wanted to call him a hypocrite as he moaned, movements getting sporadic and less controlled. his hand fell away, forehead falling against yours as he panted. "fuck, baby. feel so good wrapped around me like this, not caring if we get caught."

you flutter around him, burying your face in his neck to silence the whimper begging to escape. his hand moved to the back of your head, fingers running through your hair. "shh, i got you, baby." his tone was softer now, movements sloppier.

"fuck, rafe. gonna cum, please."

he buries his face in your hair as he whines. "me too, baby. go ahead. cum around my dick like you've been planning all day."

your head was mush, no arguing left in you, back arching as you let out a cry, making a mess all over him. your pussy squeezing him had him shooting ropes of cum inside you, a matching cry leaving him.

your heavy breaths mingled together as you came down from the high. he definitely planned on making this a new tradition.

a/n: this came to me in a dream. also I did not proof read this so if there are mistakes, act like there isn't. kisses xoxo

[delugyu]

maybe this is evil but i’ve been thinking about txt when another member likes their bsf… or gf… i like messy hehe

i like the way u think hehe

(wc: 2k / warnings: soobin x fem!reader, jealousy, a ton of possessiveness and borderline obsession lol, insecurity, oral (f rec.), overstimulation, choking (f rec.), unprotected sex)

it starts off only mildly irritating. soobin doesn’t care all that much when beomgyu leans in to tell you a joke, or when beomgyu’s hand graces the skin of your arm for a second, or even when beomgyu chooses to sit right next to you on the couch. soobin’s secure enough to not think too much about any of that, even if he does find it a little odd.

beomgyu’s actions get a little less forgivable when he starts letting his touch linger on you. there’s no need for him to brush your hair back, and certainly not to let his hand rest on your shoulder longer than a couple seconds. soobin can’t even keep up with the conversation he was having with yeonjun and taehyun anymore, too focused on keeping an eye on you and beomgyu.

beomgyu surely knows you’re soobin’s girlfriend, so soobin can’t imagine why he’s doing any of this. he doesn’t even spare soobin a glance—even worse, neither do you. you’re just laughing and nodding along to whatever he’s saying, and it’s making soobin’s skin crawl.

soobin silently pulls himself out of the conversation he was in, striding towards you and beomgyu on the couch. a part of him feels at ease when you draw your attention away from beomgyu, smiling up at soobin instead. he nods at beomgyu in greeting before sitting beside you in the couch.

“what’s up?” beomgyu asks, and soobin thinks it’s funny how his friend suddenly wants to keep his hands to himself.

“not much. what have you guys been up to?” he thinks he sounds casual enough when he asks.

beomgyu shrugs. “just talking.” soobin looks at you then, to which you just meet his gaze with a smile. he throws an arm over your shoulders and pulls you in a little closer, and he doesn’t miss the way beomgyu’s eyes linger on the movement.

“anyway,” beomgyu says, looking back at you. your head swings to meet his gaze. “you think you’ll be there on friday?” he asks. soobin’s eyebrows furrow, confused.

“what’s happening friday?” soobin asks.

“there’s this band coming to town,” beomgyu explains.

“yeah, we both like their music. you should come too!” you say. either soobin’s delusional, or beomgyu’s face falters a bit when you make that offer. his arm stiffens around you a bit.

“i’ll go,” soobin says. there’s no way he’d say no and give beomgyu that opening to do whatever he wants without soobin knowing. beomgyu gives him a small smile.

“we should all just carpool then,” beomgyu suggests.

“and we can go to that new restaurant after,” you add. soobin has to keep his face from twisting sourly at the way your attention is still on beomgyu.

a gnawing sensation in his gut tells him to grab you by the hand and leave. the longer he sits here, the more insecure and jealous he starts to feel. he wants you to only spend time with him. he wants to be selfish and awful, and the childish urge to hide you away from the world comes over him.

soobin knows you’d never go too far; he trusts your love for him entirely. what he doesn’t trust is other men, not even his friends. you’re a beautiful woman with the kindest personality, so it’s only natural that people flock to you and try to swoon you. the only reason that usually doesn’t irk him is because you always run back into his arms, looking at him like he’s the only man in the world.

he’s itching to turn your face back towards him, to get you to stop talking to beomgyu and focus on your boyfriend instead. he wants to pout at you and make you feel bad, then he wants you to soothe him and rake your hand through his hair and tell him everything’s okay. he just wants you.

“do you wanna go soon? i’m kind of tired,” soobin says. it’s a little bit of a lie, but he’d do anything to be in a room alone with you right now. it feels like he won’t be able to breathe until you make him remember that your eyes are only for him.

you look at him then, and he can tell you find something in his gaze. “yeah, we can go,” you say. he almost sighs in relief. he doesn’t linger longer than he has to, saying a quick bye to beomgyu before heading out with you.

it already feels like the air is lighter when he gets back to his place with you. he sinks into bed with you, but the feeling of insecurity doesn’t quite leave him yet. he gets up on his elbow and turns to you. he runs his hand down your waist, a small frown on his face as he thinks about you and beomgyu earlier. you turn your head to him, and you look a little tired. soobin wonders if he should just let you sleep.

“lay back down,” you say gently, but he doesn’t. he moves until he’s hovering over you instead, slotting himself carefully between your legs.

“do you love me?” soobin asks, holding your face like you’re something fragile. he brushes a thumb against your cheek as his eyes dart between your own. he can’t help but ask, even if he already knows the answer. he’s dying to hear you say it. it’s like his heart won’t beat again until the words leave your mouth.

“i love you so much,” you say. soobin presses a kiss to your lips, rewarding your sweetness. he doesn’t stop there; his lips move to your jaw, then down your neck, letting his lips worship your skin.

his lips linger at your chest, dragging his bottom lip over your heart. “tell me again,” he whispers, looking up at you when his tongue licks a short stripe up your skin.

“i love you,” you whimper, hand knotting in his hair. he pulls away, only long enough to take off your shirt and bra, and takes in the sight of your skin greedily. he could never get tired of this. he trails his mouth further down, nipping and sucking at your flesh until he’s at your hips.

“you’ll never leave me?” he asks. his fingers dip under your pants, ready to pull them off. he’s hungry for all your attention and reassurance. he needs you to shower him in loving words, to let him get his fill of you while you tell him how perfect he is. he needs to know you love him half as much, half as obsessively and consumingly as he loves you.

“never. i want to be with you forever,” you say. that’s a good answer; it makes soobin smile a little. he pulls off your bottoms so that you lay fully naked and ready for him to please. he wants to be with you forever too, and if time could stretch infinitely, he’d choose for each moment to be spent with you.

soobin brings his mouth to your clit, sucking lightly and rolling his tongue over the bud. something about this soothes him—you giving up your sex to him, gifting him a part of you that’s only his. this and your heart, soobin wants them both at his whim. he’s selfish, and there’s always more he craves. his tongue dives into your cunt, desperately pushing into your walls. he wants to hear you cry, to feel you squirm, to find relief in knowing you’re only his.

“soobin,” you moan, a little quiet and breathy. he grinds against the mattress when he hears you, unable to stop himself. he wants to know you’re feeling good, needs the proof that he’s enough for you.

he goes back to your clit, sucking with more vigor now, wanting more and more. you squeal and jolt at the pressure, and it makes soobin feel like he’s worth something. he works harder for it, needing to see you fall apart for him.

“is it perfect? am i good?” he asks breathlessly, rubbing his fingers insistently across your clit, he comes back down to your hole, lapping up the arousal that spills out of it hungrily, moaning at the taste.

“mhm, so good, binnie, i love it, love you”—you’re cut off with a gasp, mouth falling open as you arch your back.

“i love you more than anything,” he says back, pulling his face away so he can watch when you cum. his fingers keep their relentless pace over your cunt, and he soaks up each little twitch of your body. “more than anything,” he repeats, biting into your thigh. he wants to mark you and make it an undeniable fact that you’re his.

“i’m cumming,” you whisper, sounding overwhelmed and fucked out and pretty. soobin could almost cry; he needs this so bad. your legs tremble and your hips stutter, but he keeps his hand steady. he holds you down to make sure you take it all in and absorb every second of the pleasure he wants to give you.

“so good, my perfect girl, my love,” he rambles, eyes zeroed in on your face as you slowly come back down. he smiles softly at you when your eyes start brimming with tears and you start trying to push his hand away. he doesn’t stop, too obsessed with the sight that no one else gets to see.

your cunt is soaked, and his hand dips down towards your entrance to collect your wetness before coming back to your clit. he coos and pouts at you when he sees you shaking, unable to handle so much stimulation. his poor baby. he can’t stop, though; he needs you to know that no other man would be so determined to get you off like this. only soobin can, only soobin deserves to.

“soobin, ‘s too much,” you whine, blinking a tear from your eyes. he shakes his head and kisses your cheek comfortingly.

“no it’s not,” he reassures. he grabs his cock from his pants and jerks it a few times. he taps his tip against your entrance. “won’t you let me fuck you?” he slides his cock between your slick folds, aching to be inside you.

“yes, i’m yours,” you say, bringing his face in for a kiss. he tangles his tongue with yours, moaning into your mouth as he breaches your entrance, sheathing himself inside you like it’s where he belongs. you wrap around him tight, making his head spin, nothing but primal instinct driving his actions. he groans into your mouth as he fucks you, keeping your hips still with his harsh grip.

“i’m yours too,” soobin pants, eyes flitting down your face. your lips are parted, breathing heavily as he continues ramming into you. “i need you to love me. i don’t want to live without your love.”

“i love you,” you say as if it was commanded. he thrusts a little harder, encouraged by your proclamation. you gasp, “i love you! oh, god, soobin..!”

he brings a hand to your throat, needing to see your body in his hands. he doesn’t want anyone else to ever make you feel this good. he presses lightly, just enough to make your eyes roll back, to feel your pussy clench around him. the feeling of you cumming around him is enough to send him over the edge too. he buries his head in your shoulder, sucking at your skin as he releases inside of you.

he stays there, panting against your skin as the two of you recover from your highs. he takes his hand off your throat and brings it to your chest, placing it over your rapidly beating heart. his heart, the heart he’s earned and worked so hard to win over.

“i love you,” he says again.

“i love you too.” your hand lands on top of his, and soobin finally feels okay enough to let his eyes close peacefully. sleep comes to him easier when he feels your love like this.

[aggieharkness]

She has taken me far longer than any other painting, but I think that it was worth it. I have worked really hard on making sure than I picked up everything single detail because she was worth it and now, at last, with considerable back pain and less vision 😂 I bring to you Lilia Calderu, our beloved Sicilian witch that has enchanted us, charmed us, bewitched us with her personality and her beauty. I accept constructive criticism, but please be kind as this has taken a lot of time and effort. I hope you all like it and from now on all my attention will go to the fics, old and new ones😉. Thank you ❤️❤️❤️

PS The lightning might suck a little but it doesn't look too bad 😊 Oil colours on canvas

[uncuredturkeybacon]

𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎 || 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

in which paige takes her pen pal on a date

a date.

that’s all it was. a date.

a first date.

to say paige was nervous was an understatement. she didn’t know what to plan for a date, let alone a first one. when was the last time she went on a date?

it’s been a week since you’ve met and paige is pacing back and forth her shared dorm living room. azzi and kk are sat on the couch, munching on some popcorn like they were watching some kind of television show.

“if you keep pacing i’m pretty sure you’ll burn a hole in the ground.”

paige freezes in her spot, turning to glare at azzi. “i’m not pacing.”

“girl boo! yes you are!” kk grabs paige by her shoulders and forces her to sit down. “we get it, you’re nervous—”

“—i’m not nervous,” paige interrupts.

“bookie be so for real right now,” kk deadpans, not believing paige at all.

“okay! fine, i’m nervous. so fucking nervous cause she’s so pretty and like what if she hates me after this? what if she realized i wasn’t as cool as the letters made me out to be?” paige spiraled and her friends hadn’t seen her like this before. 

“okay, let’s just calm down. paige, you’ve been texting and calling nonstop since meeting in person. if she didn’t like you then she wouldn’t be doing that.”

they were right. 

she was nervous. 

paige bueckers has never been this nervous in her life.

not before a championship game, even before her first game back from her injury. 

but now? she’s sat on her bed, phone in one hand, a notebook filled with scribbled-out ideas in the other? she was freaking out.

for some reason, this felt bigger than anything she had ever faced in the court.

she had spent the past half hour staring at a blank text message, trying to come up with something casual, something cool. but every time she types something, she immediately deleted it.

“hey, wanna go out some time?”

(nope, too vague.)

“i was thinking we could go out to dinner this weekend?”

(ugh, too basic.)

“what’s up? wanna go to the gym with me?”

(really? a gym?)

she groaned, flopping onto her back and staring at the ceiling. this shouldn’t be this hard. she had spent months writing you letters, talking about everything from childhood stories to her most embarrassing moments. and yet, not that she had the chance to actually take you on a real date, her brain was short-circuiting.

she eventually goes with her gut, writing a short note and taping it on your door with a single rose. she knocks on the door and runs away, not wanting you to see her yet.

you open the door to find nothing there, but as you were about to close the door, you notice the rose, then the note.

y/n,

i would love to take you out on a date tonight. pick you up at six? dress casual but comfortable.

text me your answer.

-p

paige was pacing in her room, hoping to get a message from you. minutes later, she hears a ding. scrambling for her phone, she sees a message.

it’s a date.

she jumps, pumping her fist in the air.

before she knew it, she was outside of your dorm building, leaning against her car, waiting for you to come out.

you walk out shortly after and paige thought you were the most beautiful girl she’s ever seen.

“hey.”

“hi,” paige replied, opening the passenger side door for you. hopping into the driver’s seat, she drives to your destination, not telling you where no matter how many times you ask.

your eyes light up when you saw her pulling into the parking lot.

“the arcade!”

paige smiled so big, loving how excited you looked. “yup! you ready to get your ass beat?”

“oh we'll see about that!”

the arcade was buzzing with noise—bells ringing, kids shouting, the hum of old-school machines filling the air. paige handed you a game card, fingers brushing against yours for a second longer than necessary. she pretended not to notice the way her heart jump at the contact. 

“alright,” she said, cracking her knuckles. “what’s first?”

“you pick,” you challenged.

paige grinned, “say less.”

she led you straight to the basketball shooting game. “figured i’d start with a little warm up.”

you rolled your eyes in feign annoyance, but you were smiling. “of course you picked this one.”

paige swiped the card and grabbed the ball, effortlessly sinking shot after shot. by the time the timer had ran out, she had nearly doubled the previous high score.

she turned to you looking smug. “think you could beat that?”

you crossed your arms, “i know i can.”

paige swiped the card for you, watching you take the ball and to her absolute horror, you started sinking shot after shot like a pro. 

“wait-what?” paige watched with wide eyes as the scoreboard ticked up. 

the buzzer sounds and you barely just surpassed her score, then turned to her with a smirk. “i thought you were the professional one here?”

paige blinked, “okay, hold up—who are you?”

you laughed, “i may have forgotten to mention i played basketball in high school.”

paige groaned, running a hand down her face. “you sandbagged me.”

“maybe a little,” you admitted, grinning.

paige laughed, shaking her head. “okay, that was actually kind of hot, but i will be getting revenge.”

for the next hour, the two of you went back and forth, competing in everything from skee-ball to air hockey. paige had expected to be the dominant one, but you held your own, matching her win for win. she had never met someone who could actually keep up with her competitive side without being obnoxious about it.

by the time you made your way to the claw machine, paige was down my one game.

“alright, i have one last challenge,” she said. “if i win you a prize, i get bonus points and we call it a tie.”

you raised an eyebrow, “or you could just admit i won.”

“not happening.”

you laughed as paige swiped the card and maneuvered the claw toward a stuffed blue dinosaur in the corner. she focused, tongue poking out slightly as she adjusted the controls.

“serious question,” you said, watching her concentrate. “are you this competitive about everything?”

paige didn’t look away from the claw. “only when it matters.”

she pressed the button. the claw descended… grabbed the dinosaur… and promptly dropped it before it could reach the chute.

paige stared, “are you kidding me?”

you burst out laughing. “so close.”

paige sighed dramatically. “alright, fine. you win. but only because the machine is rigged.”

“sure it is,” you teased.

paige shook her head, smiling as she turned to you. “you’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“a little,” you admitted.

she smirked. “guess i’ll just have to redeem myself at ice cream.”

the two of you walked to the ice cream shop down the street, the air crisp but not too cold. paige felt the nerves from earlier completely disappear. the date had gone better than she could’ve hoped, and the best part?

it felt easy.

she stole a glance at you as you debated between flavors, your nose scrunching slightly in thought.

she liked this. she liked you.

once you both had your ice cream, you found a bench outside to sit on.

“so,” paige said between bites. “did i do okay? you know, for a first date?”

you smiled at her. “you did great, p.”

her heart flipped at the nickname, at the warmth in your voice.

“good,” she said, leaning back against the bench, looking up at the sky. “because i’d really like to do it again.”

you nudged her playfully. “only if you’re ready to lose again.”

paige chuckled, shaking her head. “we’ll see about that.”

and as she sat there beside you, eating ice cream under the city lights, she realized something—

this was the best win she’d ever had.

[canmom]

been meaning to write about this paper, glad it's already getting discussed on here.

to add some brief comments:

prediction and thinking may not be so very far away from each other. this is where we get into a (still kind of controversial) hypothesis in neuroscience: the free energy principle proposed by karl friston constructs a mathematical framework which frames the brain learning from sense data as a continual feedback loop of prediction and surprise minimisation. artem kirsanov has a nice video on the basic idea. having this frame in mind has drastically affected the way i see the behaviour of LLMs: it's no longer so obvious to me that they represent an intrinsic difference to what the human brain does, though ofc unlike us they're atemporal, tokenised, feedforward only etc etc.

so an LLM builds a compressed representation of overall language dynamics. there are not nearly enough n-gram samples to be able to predict off any arbitrary string by simple lookup. per the manifold hypothesis, neural networks discover a lower dimensional space describing the distribution of sparse data in the higher dimensional space of inputs. it's this compressed, abstracted representation, shaped by a combination of prediction-loss and reinforcement learning, that allows them to do more than "stochastic parroting".

the model is learning a compressed representation of something like equations of motion for the 'physics' of language. language is an encoding of thought into a linear format for communication; you construct language to excite corresponding thoughts in another brain (or your own!). so the 'physics' detected by the language model should capture at least some of the dynamics of thought. once this is learned, it is sufficient scaffolding for reinforcement learning to take it further and develop actual problem solving skills.

it is those 'physics' that the above paper is breaking down. and the training will encourage it to develop abstractions, to be able to capture more of the data distribution with its limited weights. these abstractions sometimes correspond to human-comprehensible concepts.

what's particularly fascinating about this paper to me is how the above result about 'looking ahead' somewhat contradicts the argument of the Nature article role play with large language models, which had been one of my touchpoints for understanding model behaviour. it seems the hypothesised 'multiverse generator' that branches at every token, and does not decide its final answer in 'twenty questions' until it gets to the end, is actually only a partial picture? because of the stochastic sampling, there is certainly still a 'multiverse' effect even with predicting ahead, but apparently it's more complicated. (in many cases of course perplexity is low and the model is essentially deterministic).

I'm really fascinated to see how this interpretability research can combine with the recent research into latent reasoning models such as coconut and huginn, since they lose less internal information during sampling, which might (speculation) make the model's 'thinking ahead' more effective? (and it might save us from the opacity of losing the CoT). I'm also excited to see if we can discover whether combined vision language models can learn to slip into visual/spatial logic using their image training during their reasoning. there's a reason, I think, that spatial metaphors are highly appealing to us humans: perhaps AI models can also benefit from being able to 'think' in terms of a representation of space.

god, this is such a cool paper.

exciting and extremely philosophically interesting stuff going on in the mechanical interpretability space if you like overthinking things. (i do).

[lavenderhateswritting]

LOWKEY I need Bruce’s reaction when he finds the divorce papers

I'm low-key obssesed with divorcing Bruce. This got so much longer than I thought it would I hope you like it.

If he were to ask himself what he remembers about that night he would say it was the look in your eyes. You were never good at hiding how you felt he could tell what kind of day you had just by staring into your eyes and watchng the way the light bounced off them.

You were sad, of course you were sad he had done it again broken the trust you gave him, over and over again even as past experiences showed, he could not be trusted with it. There was more to it though. You weren't just sad you were determined. He used to love that look on you. The way your eyes would narrow when you had finally found the best path forward.

He knew you had made up your mind as soon as you looked him in the eyes and he saw in you the very reason he had fallen in love all those years ago.

Coming home to the empty bedroom wasn't surprising he knew in a way that he had lost this battle. You were going to leave that night, likely to your parent or friends house maybe if he was lucky to one of the properties you both owned. He could concede this to you learning about a child he had out of wedlock with a woman he had already cheated on you with once before, you were going to need to be alone.

He just needed to think of a plan to get you back like he had before. What had he done before to get you back? To pull your relationship from that ledge he couldn't stop walking it towards. Vacations that never lasted long because there was always a new problem popping up and a world to save. Dates that he planned, going to your favorite restouraunt where he was getting flirted with constantly reminding you why you were out in the first place. Flowers, but you never really liked flowers it just seemed like something he was supposed to do when he failed in the relationship. Likely none of those would work.

In a way the divorce papers had come as less of a surprise than he would have liked to admit. You had been out of the house for a month and not answering his phone calls. He kept tabs though, he had to, to make sure you were safe and that he'd be there when you were ready to move past this together. So he noticed when you started talking to lawyers. So if you asked him, no he wasn't surprised that you had asked for a divorce. It still hurt though. In a way he had never thought a simple piece of paper could hurt in his life.

Twenty years of marriage couldn't be over this quick. With so little fight or care he just needed to talk to you and explain himself. You were always good at understanding him probably the only person who consistently could.

"What are you doing here Bruce." You weren't facing him. You were chopping carrots on the cutting board at the counter, but you had of course heard him come in. You had gained some kind of second sense for people like him and the kids after a while sneaking past you was nearly impossible.

He remembers one of the days when Jason was young and had gotten it in his head that he was going to manage to sneak past you and into the cave even though he was benched for the night because of a cold. He had by the end of the night gotten so frustrated that he had accused you of secretly being a double agent sent to spy on the family.

For a moment he can feel himself wanting to smile at the memory he stops himself he's Batman right now. Maybe coming in the suit was a bad idea, but in a way this was his best defense against you against whatever way you decided to hurt him.

You're waiting for a response, but what should he even say. ' I missed waking up to your smile everyday and holding you close at night.' Or ' I don't know what's wrong with me because you are the most gorgeous man I have ever seen and for some reason that's not enough for me'. Or maybe ' I don't know what a life without you in it would look like and I would never want to live in the world where I have to figure that out.' He doesn't say any of that though can't bring himself to.

"You left." He finally says and he can tell by the tension in your shoulders it was the wrong choice.

"I told you I was going to." Your back is still turned towards him. He'd like to think that if he could see your face maybe he could find a road map towards fixing this.

He watches as you scrape the carrots into whatever soup you have cooking on the stove that has left the entire house smelling like those moments of peace you two would share after a rough week.

"I never got the chance to explain myself. You left and now you want to leave everything we built and you haven't even given me a chance to explain myself." He's hoping that if he can just get you to understand in the way you always have that there might be some chance of fixing this.

"What is there to explain Bruce. You've done this so many times that I think I've heard every excuse or explanation you could possibly have. Can we just end this like adults." You stir the pot and then finally you turn around to look at him. You have dark rings underneath your eyes and he's not sure what of that was always there and what wasn't. You were always exhausted running from one problem to the next trying to keep things afloat as best you could. Tryng to keep this relationship afloat as best you could.

"I know that my relationship with Talia has hurt you multiple times and I need to apologize because this isn't fair to you it never has been." He inhales rememders everything he's ever tried to tell you and just assumed you knew and tries his hardest to voice it.

"I can't tell you why I keep cheating on you because I am truly a lucky man. You are the center of my world Y/N and most of the time you're the only thing keeping it running." He looks into your eyes and he can see the tears rushing forward threatening to flow.

"The world before I knew you was a dark one, I wanted to help people, but in a way I never cared what happened to me. You gave me a reason to want to come home at the end of the day. You made me whole in ways I never thought I could be. I don't want to end this I can't imagine a world where we aren't togehter." You're crying now. He cant seem to stop making you cry.

"Bruce I have loved you for so long that, the idea of not having you in my life was something I could never even consider. And maybe that was the problem. I've stuck beside you for so long and tried my hardest to make sure that you and your life were the best it could be I think I've forgotten that I'm a person outside of you." You reach up to wipe the tears out of your eyes and wrap your arms around yourself like a hug. "You aren't good for me Bruce hell you're not even really good to me and I have to find some way t-to move past relying on you for everything because you don't know how to stop hurting me and I'm just going to keep letting you."

"Don't say that. You know I don't want to hurt you. I don't ever want to see you hurt."

"You say all of this, but you keep hurting me anyways. Maybe you do love me, maybe you actually do believe what you're saying." You're staring him down now. "But that's not enough and I've given you chance after chance to be better and every single time you just hurt me again. Something had to give and I- I need to break this off or this relationship will kill me."

"I'll be better." He's stood up and begun to walk towards you now. "I won't even look in the direction of a woman if you ask me I will do better." You reach your hand up and cup his face. He can see it in your eyes that there's nothing he can do to change your mind, but he'd be a fool not to try.

"Oh Bruce, I wish I could believe you." You take your hand down and lean your head onto his chest. Your eyes are staring back at you in the chine of the bat symbol. You both stand there for a few minutes and breathe in the last of eachother you'll ever get.

"You need to leave Bruce." You finally push yourself away from him and he can tell you mean it.

So he leaves.