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littelovelunette · 2 days ago

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could you do one where reader feels bad about themselves, and starts to struggle with eating, and after weeks go by it’s a problem, they’re skipping meals and feeling sick a lot, and vi noticed and keeps an eye out and then confronts reader and helps them get better, maybe having meals together? maybe she confronts reader by making dinner one night and reader refuses to eat it or something

Pretty As The Sunrise (2)

Contains mentions of eating disorder

You were watching the stretch marks on your stomach and thighs, you had really gained weight this time.

Some of your tops didn't fit you even, that made you feel really sad. You remained there seated on the floor for a while admist clothes and pants that didn't fit you anymore.

You looked at the mirror, hand coming to cup your stomach as your lips formed a little pout, you hated looking like this.

You sighed and decided to wear a loose t shirt and some baggy pajamas, you didn't wanna see the imprint of your figure through your clothes that's how disgusting you felt.

It's been weeks you've been skipping out on lunch, having just a toast for breakfast and barely eating anything for dinner yet somehow you felt like you were the fattest whale to exist on the planet.

"Gosh, I pity Vi," you murmured, pulling your hair down to frame your face in an attempt of making it look smaller, maybe the weight gain wouldn't show then.

"Hey baby, what's with the mess?" Vi asked as she opened the door to the bedroom, brow raised at the clothes scattered around the floor.

"Oh nothing I just couldn't find something comfortable you wear," you lied through your teeth, it was only partially the truth.

"Baby have you been crying?" Vi asked closing the door behind herself and walking upto you, cupping your face in her hands. Vi tucked your hair behind your ear but you quickly pulled them back down to frame your face.

"I'm fine I just need a moment can you give me that?" You asked softly and Vi sighed before nodding, "I'm only a room away, call for me okay? Don't suffer alone whatever it is." Vi reluctantly walked out of the bedroom to give you some space.

"Eat, babe," Vi's voice was gentle whenever she tried to coerce you to eat but you didn't want to, sometimes smiling and telling her you weren't hungry and sometimes simply behaving like you were full.

You didn’t think she noticed.

The way you pushed food around on your plate, always claiming you “weren’t that hungry.” The way your clothes started fitting differently, a little looser. How you sighed when you looked in the mirror, eyes scanning yourself with something too sharp, too cruel.

Vi wasn’t the kind of person to push when you weren’t ready to talk, but she wasn’t stupid.

She saw you. And she wasn’t about to sit back and let you wither away.

So that’s how you ended up in your tiny kitchen, standing at the threshold in nothing but Vi’s old shirt, watching her cook.

It was an unexpected sight—Vi, of all people, focused, brow furrowed as she worked at the stove.

She wasn’t a chef, not by a long shot, but the woman could cook when she needed to. And right now, she was cooking for you and what's what mattered to her.

“Take a seat,” Vi said without turning around, her voice casual but firm.

You hesitated, rubbing your arm. “Vi, I’m not really—”

“—Hungry?” She shot you a glance over her shoulder, an amused smirk tugging at her lips. “Yeah, I figured you’d say that. Sit your ass down anyway.”

With a sigh, you did as you were told, perching at the small, worn-out table. The smell in the air was good—savory, rich, something warm that made your stomach twist with a hunger you’d been ignoring.

“What are you even making?” you asked trying to peer around and get a peek, watching as she plated up.

Vi turned, holding out a dish. “Noodles with grilled chicken. It’s good shit.”

You stared at the plate as she set it down in front of you.

Steaming noodles, coated in a thick, spicy sauce, mixed with crisped-up vegetables and tender slices of grilled chicken. It smelled amazing.

Vi took a seat across from you, arms crossed, gaze unwavering. “Eat, babe.”

You swallowed, fingers twitching on the table. “Vi—”

“Listen.” Vi's voice softened, but her eyes never left yours. “I know what you’re doing. I’ve seen it before—hell, I’ve done it before. You start thinking you’re not enough, that if you just shrink a little more, you’ll feel better. That it’ll fix whatever’s in your head.”

Your throat tightened. She saw right through you. There was no more hiding.

Vi leaned forward, resting her muscly forearms on the table. “But that’s not how it works, sweetheart. You deserve to eat. You deserve to be strong. You deserve to feel good in your own skin, not punish yourself.”

You exhaled shakily, looking down at your plate.

“Just try,” Vi murmured. “For me?”

Your fingers curled around the chopsticks. You picked up a bite, hesitating before finally tasting it.

It was good—spicy, rich, the kind of food that warmed you from the inside out. Your body reacted instantly, the hunger you’d been denying making itself known.

Vi grinned as you took another bite, then another. “That’s my girl.”

A warmth that had nothing to do with the food spread through you.

Maybe, just maybe, she was right.

#arcane #violet arcane #vi is the best #vi speaks #vi scenarios #vi #vi league of legends #vi lol #vi my beloved #vi they could never make me hate you #vi the piltover enforcer #vi talks #arcane vi x reader #vi x y/n #vi x you #vi x reader

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homewardskies · 3 days ago

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Deities For Beginners

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Okay... I've been seeing a lot of misinformation and misconceptions regarding deities, so I'd like to contribute a little bit to the conversation. Fyi, this is from the perspective of a polytheist, not a witch!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"How do I talk to the Gods/how do I start working with them/how do I ask to work with them?"

Honestly, you don't know, and you don't need to. A lot of people start out obsessed with direct communication and instant gratification. All you need is intention: start praying. Paganism is about building connections and relationships. Those take time. You will learn your Gods. You don't need them to magically manifest in front of you, and I honestly don't recommend divination to "talk" to them, at least until you have enough experience to discern actual interactions from nothing at all.

"Is [insert God] mad at me?"

Have you caused terrible harm to someone intentionally? Have you shown unprecedented levels of hubris? No? Then they aren't. This question is usually a result of the questions from earlier. Just because you don't feel them during your first ritual, or life throws something at you, does not mean the ancient forces of the universe have it out for you. Take your time, recenter yourself, and remember that the Gods hear you and they are there.

"Oh you worship [insert God]? Aren't they...evil?"

No! Hope that helps! Jk jk. The myths are stories that allow us some degree of historical context for how the original practitioners viewed the Gods and what their practice was like. Through their cultural lens, we get a decent picture of what the Gods are like. However, that does not make the myths literal depictions of the Gods, and it's actually a major red flag to treat them as such.

"Are all the Gods just the same few Gods viewed differently by different people?"

So, this is the soft vs. hard polytheism question, and honestly, I personally find soft polytheism (all pantheons are the same God/few Gods in different forms) to be problematic. Are Wodin and Odin the same? Yeah, you could argue that they share a common origin. Are Zeus and Odin the same? No, and you really can't argue that.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Anyways. These are some of the more common questions I'd like to answer. I would love to elaborate if needed! Also, if anyone has other questions, I'll answer to the best of my ability.

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samwontshare · 11 hours ago

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I haven’t seen BNW yet so I can only comment on the Sambucky scene since yall recorded that and put it everywhere. 😅

I really like the character growth here.

It started for Sam in TFATWS - we see him working alone on the boat’s engine. At the end, he allows Bucky to help him. He didn’t invite Bucky- Sam Wilson asking for help? Outside of running a smooth op? Hah! - but Bucky invited himself over and was welcomed by Sam. But even this moment was silent. Sam only confided in Sarah in TFATWS, and even that seemed difficult for him.

So I am happy to see that for some reason running for Congress Bucky probably drops absolutely everything the moment he sees the news because 1) his man looks hot and he has to tell him that immediately and 2) Joaquin took a hit and he knows he has to be with them. I like that we see Bucky proactively showing up for Sam, which was a problem Bucky had in TFATWS. And this brings me joy as a Bucky fan, because this is TFA Bucky. This is Bucky Barnes, who loves his people fully and openly and would die for them in a heartbeat. Bucky is a mother hen at heart, and this is a return to that. Anyone who wants to see Bucky healing should be happy here.

Sam telling whoever entered the room to politely fuck off gave me his Civil War ‘tude with T’Challa. I appreciate “so over the bullshit” Sam. And Sam, my beloved, just looks so reluctantly relieved Bucky is there. Like he’s trying not to smile that his man showed up for him. And Sam TALKS ABOUT HIS INSECURITIES. He has self doubt and he talks about it! He lets Bucky give him a pep talk. We were all pulling our hair out in TFATWS because they seemed allergic to showing us Sam’s internal world.

And kudos to Bucky for seeing that it has nothing to do with wanting superpowers, it’s about Sam’s desire to protect others, especially his partner. This moment is such a callback to Riley, an event that shook Sam so badly he left the service. It’s nice to see Sam not shouldering grief alone. I can’t wait to see Sam and Joaquin talk about what happened bc that’s where I think there will be some more full circle character development for Sam. (Sorry I am blabbing about this without the full context.)

Bucky expressing curiosity about Sam’s doubt and encouraging him to continue when you could see Sam was hesitating to be vulnerable was a really nice touch. Sam is given the space without judgment to process. “Say what you need to say.” Okay, sir, you know that talk continues in the bedroom.

I just want to see Sam getting that emotional TLC all the time. That little head nod when Bucky tells him he loves him? Precious.

You love to see it.

#sambucky #brave new world spoilers

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fuck-customers · 19 hours ago

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hello! I work at a pet store. store manager would always offload all the work onto me and helped out with basically nothing. the most he would do would be ringing up customers, and when the store was empty he’d just sit in the back or wander around. meanwhile he’d assign me lengthy tasks like clearing off shelves to check expiration dates and clean, setting up new product displays, or deep-cleaning our animal enclosures as soon as I walked in the door, and as soon as I finished one thing he’d assign me something else. as soon as it reached like three hours before closing, he’d have me stop and start closing duties… by myself. and yes I’d have to start that early because that’s genuinely how long it takes me to give fresh food and water to all the animals, spot clean the enclosures, mist the reptiles, sweep, vacuum, AND mop, take out the trash, deep clean our dog wash station, and front/face the products, all on my own.

but what would really get on my nerves would be when he’d ask me why I wasn’t signing as many people up for our rewards as everyone else (company keeps track of that and sets goals), and try to give me tips on how to talk people into it as if I didn’t work in sales for like eight months as my previous job. he’d even say that he might have to write me up if I didn’t meet the assigned goal a certain number of weeks in a row. and it’s like, I don’t know man, maybe it’s because you hog the registers and have me work anywhere else all day every day?? it lets us check how many transactions each employee did in a day and after a shift with him I’d usually have done ~5 while he did 30-40. keep in mind that him and I are like the only two people who can consistently close, which means the vast majority of my shifts are closing with him. whenever I brought this up to him he’d just give some evasive answer and move on.

store manager ended up getting injured on the job, nothing serious but would take an extended leave to heal, and I was kinda glad that our assistant manager would be taking his place for the time being. assistant manager would always butt heads with store manager for being lazy and would do his fair share of tasks, insist that closing duties need to be split 50/50 between the closing manager and associate and help me out, and encourage me to be at the register as often as possible. great! but after a couple weeks of this arrangement… assistant manager is becoming store manager #2. the disney twist villain. slowly but surely he’s been delegating more and more of the daily tasks to me, and having me do all the closing duties myself again, all while he stands around on his phone. WHAT.

Posted by admin Rodney

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little-wicked10 · 2 days ago

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Smell so Sweet🍑

Summary: Soldier Boy’s powers make it easy for him to read people’s physical reactions. He happens to pick up on the fact that every time she’s around Butcher and himself, she gets REALLY horny.

Warnings: PORN WITH NO PLOT🥵🔞, cursing, dirty talk, degrading, daddy kink, subspace, drug use, multiple orgasms, anal, creampies (what kind? Yes)

Notes: reader is called Peach because I’m uncreative like that🤷‍♀️ Thanks for voting for this on my poll!

Learning to control his supe powers and senses had taken Soldier Boy years. They were long, grueling, painful few years, but the payoff was a harmony he hadn’t known until his powers worked with him instead of against. If he concentrated hard enough, he could pin point everyone down to their sound and scent.

The cum guzzler, Hughie, had a heart beat like a rabbit most of the time and smelled of some kind of obnoxious sprayed on odor mixed with something that reminded him of a bologna sandwich. Weak.

Butcher’s heart rate was all over the place, slow one minute and erratic and panicked the next. Past the cigarette and alcohol smell, the Brit had a strong manly scent that he could only compare to himself. It had a different musk than his own, but it gave off the same feeling. Strong.

Then there was her.

She drove him crazy. He chased after the smell of her sweet perfume mixed with her naturally sweet smelling skin. She smelled like goddamn peaches and cream. So sweet.

He could pick up on hormone changes in women the easiest for some odd reason, and hers were his favorite to fill his senses with. So, it was easy to discover her little secret.

The first time Soldier Boy picked up on it was the day he met her. She stood to Butcher’s right, and he could already smell her attraction to the cockney asshole. It wasn’t as strong as he thought it be, probably because she had learned to control it around him, but it suddenly got stronger when her eyes landed on him. Sharp eyes saw her pupils dilate and her rapid heart beat pounded in his ears.

“And uh…who’s the broad?” Soldier Boy smirked at her.

“She’s a valuable memba’ of the team, mate,” Butcher placed a hand on the small of her back, her hormones went wild at the contact, “She’ll be lookin’ after ya while Hughie and I track down the last few membas of Payback for ya.”

“I don’t need a babysitter, okay?” he snapped his eyes to Butcher, “I think I know how to fuckin’ lay low.”

“Well, guv, she knows her way ‘round ‘ere and can get ya whateva’ ya need,” Butcher pointed out, “She’ll help ya out, keep ya company while the lad and I chase some of these leads.”

Solider Boy turned his smirk back to her, “You alright with this, sweetheart? I can be quite a handful.”

He sensed her answer before she told him, “Yeah, I’m fine with this. Rather hang out here than watch Hughie’s teleporting junk.”

“Ya know she wants to fuck you, right?” Soldier Boy casually mentioned to Butcher one night.

Butcher chuckled, “Yeah. I seen those fuck me eyes she tries ‘idin’.”

“Bet with that shit you’re shootin’ up, you can smell what I smell,” Soldier Boy quirked his eyebrows up with a devious smirk.

“Fuuuuck she smells sweet, don’ she?” Butcher groaned, “You eva’ ‘eard ‘er late at night’? Ugh. W’at I wouldn’ give ta see those wet dreams.”

The two for them sat outside smoking on the motel on the balcony. Soldier Boy inhaled sharply before passing it, “You ever smell her when we’re both in the room?”

The Brit began to chuckle as he took the burning joint, “Picked up on that righ’ quick.”

A groan left the other man, “Smells like the ripest fuckin’ peach you’ll ever fuckin’ taste.”

The two sat in silence, the same idea passing through their minds.

She was curled up on the motel couch when Butcher returned without Hughie. Even through the line of bennies he’d just snorted, Ben’s nose filled with the smell of peaches as her two favorite people were in the same room. Butcher glanced over at the supe, inhaling deeply before disguising it as a sigh.

“Hey Peach,” he called.

She perked up at the nickname and looked over at him. It was a mystery to her why she’d been bestowed the name, but she didn’t really look too much into it.

“Hand me that bottle o’ whiskey. I’m out over here,” Ben commanded.

She rolled her eyes before sarcastically saying, “Oh yes sir! Need anything else?”

Both men felt her reply go straight to their dicks. From the motel table, they watched her grab the full bottle from the coffee table and walk towards them. If she paid a lick of attention, she’d have noticed the way they eyed her head to toe. “Sit with us, love. I could use the comp’ny,” Butcher offered as he kicked one of the chairs out. She sat down, watching as Ben crushed more pills with the hilt of his Bowie knife.

“Soldier Boy ‘ere givin’ ya any trouble?” Butcher asked sternly.

“When he’s not bossing me around, he’s not too bad,” she replied with a roll of her eyes, “I’d have a bigger problem if he wasn’t sharing his weed.”

Ben chuckled as he used his blade to make little lines, “Thought pretty girls like you liked bein’ told what to do?”

They noticed her cheeks flush a bit and smelled her hormones skyrocket. Butcher started bouncing his leg impatiently the deeper her scent filled his mind like a fog.

“Experience says they sho’ do,” Butcher chuckled.

She picked up a joint and lighter off the table, “Only by the ones I call daddy.”

Butcher practically barked when he laughed, “Well, well, well. Dirty lil’ bird you are.”

She lit the joint and took a deep drag, both men watching her chest rise and fall. Ben waited until she exhaled the smoke from her pretty lips before speaking again, “Dirty girls and clean lines, that’s my motto. If you think I can snort, you should see me eat.”

He smirked at the blush that seemed to be there permanently whenever they were around.

“Ain’t that just the cutest lil’ blush ya ever did see,” Butcher teased with a smirk playing at his lips.

It was then that Ben decided to reveal the elephant in the room, “Ya know we can smell how turned on we make you, right?”

Both were amused as she choked while exhaling.

“C’mon, Peach. You really think I wouldn’t pick up on it? I’m fuckin’ Solider Boy,” Ben chuckled as he set his knife on the table, “And, Butcher’s been shootin’ up enough of that green shit to know what I’m talkin’ about.”

“Let me tell ya, Peach,” the way the word rolled off his tongue with his thick accent should have been wrong, “That’s exactly w’at ya smell like. Peaches and fuckin’ cream with a lil’ bit of sugar sprinkled ova’ the top. Me mouth starts waterin’ an’ me bollocks achin’ every time I step through that door and smell w’at’s permeating from between them luscious thighs.”

She subconsciously crossed her legs, feeling their eyes dart to the action.

“I bet she tastes just as sweet,” Ben leaned back in his chair, “What ya wanna bet, Butcher?”

The man was leisurely stretched out in his chair as his dark stare never left her body, “No doubt, guv. Ya don’ smell like that and not taste just as sweet. But…betta’ to find out. Care if I ‘ave the first go?”

“Be my guest,” Ben quickly replied.

The fact that they were talking about her in front of her as if she wasn’t there was a huge turn on. Like she was too dumb to join their conversation about tasting her cunt. Butcher suddenly slid off his chair to his knees, crawling towards her to kneel before her crossed legs. His rough hands started at her ankles before delicately traveling up her calf, over her knees, hooking his hands in the crease of her thighs and yanking them open. A gasp fell from her lips as her legs were spread and Butcher made his bulky self at home, large hands clasping around her hips with a lazy smirk on his face.

“Gooood-damnit! That’s potent shit,” Ben growled, throwing his head back.

“Lift ya hips, love. Daddy’s dyin’ of thirst. Ain’t that a cryin’ shame?” he asked her as he dug his fingers into the waist band of her shorts.

She held herself up, biting her lip and nodding as her face burned.

Butcher couldn’t help his chuckle when he shimmied her shorts and panties off, “An’ the only thing that can quench this mighty thirst of mine is drippin’ out of yer pretty cunt.”

Breathing suddenly became hard when his cocky smile lowered between her legs. One hand gripped the edge of the wooden chair while the other gripped his black hair. The position was awkward until her legs were thrown over his broad shoulders, and he yanked her closer to the edge of the chair. There was no warning as Butcher dove in. A strangled moan left her throat as his whole mouth devoured her from clit to slit, chasing every drop of her sweet honey to places that hadn’t been explored.

She cried out loud when he suddenly let loose a deep growl that vibrated against her folds, strong arms wrapping tighter around her thighs to shove his face deeper. He could fucking drown like this. They sounded like two animals. She whimpered and whined in a high pitch, pornographic manner. Butcher grunted and groaned like a rutting beast. Ben sat back with a joint in his mouth and hand on his dick. Her scent filled the room now.

Ben admired the way her little toes curled when Butcher made her cum, “Butcher’s a greedy son of a bitch, but, what else is new?”

Both her hands were dug deep into his hair now as her hips attempted to roll towards his mouth. Ben suddenly stood up, exhaling smoke as he strode towards the two. He stood next to her, his hips level with her head, holding out the joint towards her ‘o’ shaped mouth.

“Wrap your lips around it. Think you deserve a lil’ puff after that last one,” the supe encouraged.

Her eyes popped open and stared into mischievous green ones before flicking down to his hand. With a shaky breath, she wrapped her lips around it and inhaled.

“There ya go, doll. Nice long drag. Don’t make her choke yet, Butcher,” Ben complimented.

The supe pulled the joint from her lips with a satisfied smirk as he watched her hold the smoke in her lungs before exhaling. The exhale turned into a broken whine as Butcher built her up to another orgasm.

“You wanna a go, mate?” Butcher reluctantly pulled away as she cried in protest.

“Fuck yeah, I do. Move over,” Ben shoved the other man’s shoulder.

The Brit backed away and stood up as Ben made room for himself. Just like the previous man between her legs, no time was wasted. No one could ever accuse these two men of being inefficient. Butcher took a seat at the table again as Ben had his fill. The second his tongue met her folds, he growled and shook his head.

“Why not give ‘er lil’ arsehole a tickle? I know I did,” Butcher smirk could only be described as cheeky, “Tell Soldier Boy how much you liked havin’ yer arsehole tongue fucked.”

A desperate cry left her lips, “I-I loved it!”

“Try again,” Ben slapped her pussy making her squeal.

“Butcher’s tongue in my ass felt so, so good!” she cried, “I was about to cum again when he took it out.”

Ben cooed, “See, Butcher, if you would just keep your damn mouth shut and do the job, you’d have a higher success rate.”

“Oi, cut the supe shite. I was nice enough to offa’ up a taste before she started pushin’ me head away. That lil’ cunt was flutterin’ away when me tongue was shoved up ‘er arse, made the job much easier for ya,” Butcher barked back.

“Oh my god! Please! Someone put me out of my fuckin’ misery!” her desperate whine interrupted.

Ben slapped her pussy harder, “Sassy lil’ thing.”

“Ya got no idea, mate,” Butcher took a hit.

Ben brought his mouth down to suck harshly at her clit. Two of his thick fingers shoved inside of her making her scream. Butcher admired her toes curling in the air and her fingers desperately grasping Ben’s brown hair.

“O-oh, Ben!” she whimpered as his finger teased against her other hole.

Ben growled as he roughly held her still, dipping his fingers into her cunt then dragging the wetness down to play with that forbidden little entrance. It was when he shoved his tongue inside her weeping cunt and nudged the tip of his finger into her ass that she let out a strangled moan, cunt clenching and gushing.

Butcher inhaled deeply with a growl, “Fuckin’ ‘ell! Toss ‘er on the bed.”

The supe sat up, wiping his mouth and beard before jerking her up like she weighed nothing. Both men strode towards the bed before she was thrown half hazardously onto it. Ben was quick to yank her shirt off as Butcher started unbuttoning his own. Her eyes looked up at them like a powerless doe at the mercy of the wolves. Her body already hummed from her first two orgasms, but she craved more. She rubbed her thighs together as her cunt throbbed uncontrollably.

Ben grabbed one of her ankles to throw her legs open, “That’s the last time I wanna see those legs closed.”

She felt a gush of arousal at his command, “Y-yes sir.”

“Gonna need ya to stay niiiice an’ spread out for us, Peach,” Butcher had the audacity to wink as he jerked her other leg open, “Might ‘ave a ‘ard time gettin’ her to keep’em closed after this.”

Her blush would have been from embarrassment if they hadn’t already dove head first into her cunt and asshole. There were still sparks of insecurity that crossed her features as she lay with her legs spread wide open, but they’d fuck that right out of her. Butcher was the first to move, rounding the bed to sit behind her. With a grunt, he maneuvered her around to be on all fours.

“Give daddy a lil’ nosh while Soldier Boy opens up your pretty holes, yeah?” Butcher grinned as he gathered her hair in his hand.

She watched with wide eyes as Butcher made her watch him jerk his belt and fly open with a free hand. The bed dipped behind her as Ben roughly spread apart her ass. Her mouth watered at the size of Butcher’s thick length, straining against his hold to reach down and pleasure him. Butcher’s dark chuckle didn’t distract her from staring. When he brought her head down to wrap her lips around his tip, Ben shoved his fingers inside her cunt while circling over her asshole.

The back of Butcher’s head slammed against the headboard as the woman enthusiastically sucked him off, “Bloody…fuckin’ ‘ell! Like a goddamn hoova’.”

“I love a bitch that gets off on suckin’ dick,” Ben groaned.

The way the men laughed at her eagerness should have made her feel ashamed, or even mad, but it just turned her on even more. It made her push her hips back into Ben’s hands and her tongue stroke Butcher’s length with the need to keep them talking. Keep degrading her and using her until her body gave out. She whimpered when she heard and felt Ben roughly spit on her asshole before he inched a finger inside to the knuckle. The burn was foreign while pleasurable. Her body didn’t know whether to lean in or away from it.

Ben’s eyes were dark with lust as he enjoyed the sweet torture they were putting her through. It motivated him to be a little crueler in how he handled her. When her hips tried to pull away from him burying his finger more inside her, his other hand roughly left her cunt to hold her hip and keep her in place, “Nah, doll. No runnin’. Take it like a good lil’ trooper.”

If Butcher wasn’t getting his soul sucked out, he would have rolled his eyes at the supe. He looked down at her sucking his dick like it was the best tasting thing she’d had in her life. He loved desperate whores. He hadn’t realized how desperate she was until that Temp V shit got his senses heightened enough to hear a mouse queef. His eyes went wide when she suddenly pulled off of him and let her tongue lazily lick over his balls while her hand stroked his dick.

“A-ah shit,” Butcher shivered as she wrapped her lips around it, “You diabolical slut! Noshin’ on me fuckin’ bollocks!”

“Damn, she’s tight. I’ll stretch that out no problem,” Ben’s smirk was dark.

“Not before I do,” Butcher groaned as the sound of her sucking and slurping on him filled the room.

She suddenly pulled off of Butcher and glanced up at him, a shy but mischievous look in her eyes, “I want you both inside me. Please.”

Butcher suddenly leaned forward, holding her head closer to his face, “Louder, peach. Don’ fink Soldier Boy ‘ere ‘eard ya.”

She whined, but repeated, “I want you both inside me! Please!”

Both men chuckled, Ben spanking her made her cry out and jerk forward closer to Butcher’s face. A shaky gasp passed her lips when Ben pulled his finger from inside her, “Ya want us to just shove our dicks in there? Stretch you out ‘till you’re a cryin’ and snivelin’ slut?”

A whine left her throat, “Y-Yes! Ruin me!”

“Oof, ya hear that, mate? Don’ you worry, peach. You are neva’ gonna forget w’at we’re gonna do to ya,” Butcher’s breath smelled of weed as he chuckled in her face.

She squealed when Ben smacked her wet pussy before stepping away. Butcher pet her hair affectionately before ordering her to straddle him. She was so turned on she was trembling as she waited for him to kick his boots and jeans off. When he was finally naked like her, she crawled into the man’s lap, knees settling on either side of his hips. A moan slipped past her swollen lips when his callused hands pawed at the meat of her ass. Butcher looked down to watch her hips slide along his length, teasing them both. “Please! Please, daddy!” she babbled.

“That beggin’ is so pretty. Keep doin’ it,” Butcher slurred.

“Please, daddy! It hurts!”

Ben chuckled, “Where’s it hurt, baby? Gotta tell him, or he can’t fix it.”

Butcher held her hips still making her cry out. Her nails dug into his shoulders, “I-I need y-you inside! Aches inside, daddy.”

The Brit chuckled with a smirk as he urged her to hover over him, grasping his cock in hand to notch the tip to her entrance. His smirk turned to a smile as she struggled to sink down. “Aww, poor peach. Daddy too big for ya?” he teased.

She whimpered and squirmed to take more, “Need more. F-Fuck I….please!”

Ben’s strong hand on her shoulder pushed her down. Neither man could look away until she was fully sat in Butcher’s lap. He was careful not to grip her too hard, but holy shit was she tight! Butcher growled feeling her walls pulse around him. If he were a younger man with less self control, he would have busted right then. Her arms frantically wrapped around Butcher’s neck as she cried and whimpered. He nuzzled his beard and lips against her chest, sucking marks into the delicate skin of her breasts.

The air was knocked out of her when his hips thrust up into hers. Burly arms wrapped around her body before he started moving her body along his. “F-Fuckin’ ‘ell! That’s it!” Butcher groaned as he looked up at her. When he noticed a few tears wetting her cheeks, he gently kissed them away, “Too much for ya already, peach? Ol’ Soldier Boy hasn’t even ‘ad ‘is turn yet.” She frantically shook her head, and she heard Ben chuckle from the side of the bed. Suddenly, she was rolled onto her back with her legs wrapped around the man’s waist. Butcher sat up, grasping her hips in his large hands, before starting a brutal pace.

She moaned and gasped, clawing at his wrists and throwing her head back. Every thrust had her gushing around him, and he refused to relent until she was on the verge of falling apart. The coil kept tightening in her belly with every thrust against her sweet spot. A strangled cry came from her throat when his callused thumb strummed her clit causing it to snap. She gushed around Butcher’s cock, the man’s hips faltering to keep him from cumming with her. “Fu-uckin’ ‘ell, peach! Bring’a man to ‘is bloody fuckin’ knees, why don’ ya?” Butcher growled as he dug his blunt nails into the skin on her hips.

Ben suddenly huffed, “C’mon, I ain’t had a piece of ass this fine in decades.”

The other man rolled his eyes and panted as he slowly eased out of her quivering walls, “‘ow long ya gonna keep milkin’ that one, guv?”

She whined when Butcher was no longer inside her, but it didn’t take long for Ben to take his place. The supe pounced on her, throwing her shaking legs over his shoulders and sheathing his full length inside her. She screamed and grabbed onto the shitty headboard rails for dear life. He gave a dark chuckle as he started an unforgiving pace, “Hold on tight, baby. Let’s show Butch how a real supe fucks.”

Butcher rolled his eyes as he relit the forgotten joint. Cocky bastard. Honestly, they both were which explained why they butt heads. Ben fucked hard and powerful, slow at first but quickly picked up when he found the spot that made her gasp the loudest. Her body began to shake, the familiar sensation flooding her nerve endings. Her body instinctively tried to pull away from his harsh attack, but the bruising grip on her hips kept her in place. Ben laughed at her pathetic whining, “What I say about runnin’?”

“P-P-Please,” she whimpered pathetically, “Ca-Can’t!”

“Thought you wanted us to ruin you, honey?” the supe taunted as he snatched the joint from Butcher at the side of the bed, “You’re so, so close. Think I’ll make ya squirt more than Billy Boy?”

Butcher growled, “Shoulda kept ya in the bloomin’ freezer.”

“Can’t handle a lil’ competition, Butch?” Ben chuckled as he puffed and fucked.

It was the sudden gushing around his cock that brought his attention back to the fucked out woman. “Oh shit!” he groaned as he looked down to see her little cunt leaking and struggling to push him out. She lightly convulsed, euphoria having wracked her body like a shock of lightening. The sounds of the men both taunting and praising her were muffled. She’d never been fucked like this before. Used like a battle ground between two alphas trying to out do the other. The thought of both of them fighting at the same time made her heavy body squirm.

“Wonda’ w’at she’s finkin’ to get her to wigglin’?” Butcher slurred.

“Same thing I’m thinkin’ about,” Ben said as he swiftly slid out of her sensitive walls.

In her haze, she felt her body being moved, repositioned until she lay on her stomach over a strong, broad body. She lifted her head to look into Butcher’s dark eyes. His callused hands ran along her back, sides, and hips, enjoying the way her body was melted against his. The man quirked a brow when he noticed her staring intensely at his lips. How could he refuse the earnest and pleading look in her eyes? He thread his fingers through her hair and brought her lips to his. She moaned into his dominant kiss, thighs tightening around his waist and arms wrapping around his neck. A satisfied sound left her throat when Butcher effortlessly slipped into her abused cunt again. His hips started a lazy rhythm as their lips and tongues danced together.

The bed dipped at the bottom as a bottle popping open cut through the wet sounds. A small squeak stuck in her throat when the feeling of cool lube dripped against her asshole. Her previous four orgasms made it impossible for her to tense up beyond holding on to Butcher. “Nice n’ easy, peach. There’s a good girl,” Butcher mumbled into her lips as Ben angled her hips up more. A shiver rolled down her spine when she felt him slap his still hard cock against her asshole.

She cried out when he pushed just the tip inside, the pain of the stretch shocking. Ben held one ass cheek in hand while his other hand ran up her spine. “I’m just gonna slip right in, peaches,” Ben groaned as he inched forward, “Stay still. Let me in. Theeere we go.”

Full. That was how to describe how it felt. Full and overwhelming. She swore she could feel them in her throat. A strangled moan burst from her throat before turning into a cry. Her forehead pressed into Butcher’s neck as her body processed the new feeling. The man behind her leant over and sunk his teeth into her shoulder as his hips slowly drew back then pushed forward. Each stroke elicited a whine from her lips, but she didn’t tense, she didn’t wiggle away, her body and mind were too fucked out to allow her to try and escape. She wanted this. She needed this. She needed them to ruin her.

Butcher picked up on her comfort and began to work in tandem with the other man. When one thrust pushed in, the other pulled out, creating an insane back and forth rhythm. She could feel every vein and ridge rubbing against her walls. Her whimpers turned into mewls, body writhing like a cat in heat.

Butcher inhaled deeply with a satisfied moan, “All I’m gonna be cravin’ is a taste of peaches and cream when I’m around ya, love.”

“It’s my new favorite flavor,” Ben grunted before licking and biting his bottom lip, concentration etched into his brow.

She couldn’t hold back the pathetic sounds she made when their hips started thrusting faster and harder, clit being stimulated against Butcher’s pelvis. Her whole body was a live wire, mind melted and only able to comprehend the way they fucked her beyond her limit. A growl rumbled between the two men when she pushed her hips back against them. “She’s not even thinkin’! Look at that! Pushin’ her hips back to get those dicks deeper,” Ben slapped her ass.

“Keep makin’ ya self feel good, peach. That slutty cunt’s flutterin’ away. She barely wants to let me go,” Butcher taunted.

Tears spilled down her cheeks and nails dug into the tanned and scarred skin below her. She babbled and moaned, pleasing and praising them for all the pleasure and pain they were giving her. “Pathetic slut. Ya want it so bad? Then do it,” Ben growled.

She screamed when they roughly bottomed out over and over again until it all finally exploded. Her vision went white, air escaping her lungs, and shivers flowing through her body. She tensed so hard around them, it was nearly impossible to move. Breath rushed back into her lungs feeling Butcher and Ben cumming inside her. It was a mix of growls, grunts, and sobs as the intense high passed through all of them. “Christ ON A CROSS!” Ben bit out. Whatever British slang Butcher grumbled out was incoherent through his gravelly, sex-filled voice. She was hyper aware of their cum leaking out of her around their dicks, the feeling wouldn’t soon be forgotten. Nothing about what they did to her would leave her memory for as long as she lived.

“Good girl, good girl, peach,” Butcher panted as he pet her sweaty hair, “J-Just…Let’s just stay like this.”

She pressed a cheek to his pec and nodded.

Ben blinked and shook his head, “Whoo! Haven’t cum like that in 40 years! I need weed.”

The supe slowly pulled himself from her abused hole, smirking at her little whimpers. A cool feeling swept across her back as he got off the bed and shuffled over to the kitchen table. Her mind floated in and out of consciousness. She lost the battle to be present in reality when big arms wrapped around her and murmured little sweet nothings. The smell of marijuana smoke mixed with the smell of sex in the air. The last thing she remembers before slipping into darkness was listening to the two men start to bicker.

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defututus · 1 day ago

Text

Even When I’m Not With You | Chapter Three

Sprite & Confessions

masterlist

Summary: you and Eddie are getting closer and it has become impossible to ignore your feelings for each other.

content warnings: mentions of a lack of romantic experience but I swear this chapter is all fluff, Eddie being gross for a minute

word count: ~4.8k

author's note: this chapter is my favorite and I hope you all see why <3 also, I had someone ask for a taglist so if anyone else wants to be added please let me know!

As always, thank you to my favorite people @corroded-hellfire and @munson-blurbs for helping me when I need advice. Also, I don’t know if they remember helping me with this, but I want to thank @vintagehellfire for letting me pick their brain and suggesting things while I writing about Eddie’s… incident. I cackled when she suggested some of the dialogue.

reposting because I forgot to tag it properly!

divider by @saradika-graphics

You and Eddie quickly became thick as thieves. The two of you were either hanging out together or talking over facetime or texting. There were always updates on how your day was going, memes being sent, random thoughts that popped into your head. You couldn’t go an hour without speaking to one another with the exception of sleeping or you being in class, in which Eddie would just message hou until class was over and you’d catch up on everything he sent you. You eventually learned everything about him - about his uncle and his band, Corroded Coffin. You learned he was a music production major with the hopes that his band would make it big but kept a job at the local mechanic for the time being and in case plan A doesn’t work out.

The two of you would usually have breakfast together, schedules permitting, and then walk to your respective classes together. You were always amazed at how much Eddie was able to eat every morning, especially when you ate dinner with him the night before and remembered how much he ate then. He also tried a new combination of food every morning - some of these made sense, like Cocoa Puffs in chocolate milk, while you vividly remember him trying Fruity Pebbles in orange juice and how he got a weird look from the dining hall staff when they saw him happily walking to his seat with that in his bowl. It was during these meals together that you two realized how much you both had in common - a love for horror movies, rock and metal music, and obviously, Dungeons and Dragons. Eddie swore you two were destined to become friends and he wished he had met you sooner.

You both had planned to sit together after your classes had finished and get some work done before the end of the week. Eddie specifically said he needed you to hold him accountable and make sure he didn’t get distracted and click off his schoolwork like he always ends up doing. He wasn’t exactly lying when he made that request. Eddie always struggled to keep his focus on homework, but he really wanted an excuse to spend more time with you.

You meet up with him after class in the campus brightly-lit convenience store to grab some snacks. You go for a small cup of cheez-its and an iced tea, while he immediately grabs a large bag of pretzels and two sprites. Your mind immediately goes back to earlier in the day during breakfast where you saw him eat two Belgian waffles, scrambled eggs, and Cocoa Puffs. You’re looking at him in surprise and Eddie can see it in your eyes, because he looks at you and holds his family size bag of pretzels close to his chest, defending himself by saying, “Don’t look at me like that. I’m a growing boy, I need food!”

You snort and begin weaving between the aisles of chips and candy to the checkout counter, greeting the cashier who you have grown fond of over the past three years and swipe your food card to pay for your items. Eddie isn’t too far behind, grabbing a pack of gum before he pays for his own food. You’re waiting for him outside the store as you put your snacks inside your backpack. Once they’re safely stored inside, you look through the front windows and admire Eddie from afar as he chats up the cashier. She’s laughing with him and he has this infectious smile that spreads even to you. You’re admiring his dimples and the way his nose scrunches up when he laughs. He’s wearing a red flannel on top of a black Pantera shirt, his hands in his pockets and watching as the cashier counts out his change. Maybe he could sense you were watching him, or maybe he just happened to look over at you, but you two locked eyes so he gave you a toothy smile and stuck his tongue out. You giggled, and although he couldn’t really hear it through the glass, he still felt the same amount of joy that he felt every time he heard you laugh. Eddie steps outside a minute later and the two of you walk up the hill, shoving your hands in your hoodie and shivering when the wind begins to blow.

It felt as if fall had swept over the campus seemingly overnight, because all of a sudden the grounds were awash with hues of orange and yellow. The tree-lined walkways were littered with leaf piles and smelled of autumn. As the seasons began to change, the student body began to pile on layers of clothing to keep the chills away as the winds kicked up. It was one of the cruel facts about going to school in a mountainous area - it was going to get cold. However, the drop in temperature did not keep students from taking advantage of all the outdoor seating the school had to offer. You always maintained that you’d stop sitting outside when it dipped below 40 degrees and that still hadn’t happened yet, which is why you still found yourself sitting at one of the picnic tables outside the school’s student center across from Eddie.

You two choose a table near the front of the building with a view of the school quad. The winds have died down for the time being so you could safely unload your backpack without worrying about any papers flying around. The sun was shining towards the quad so you two sat on the same side of the table with the warm rays hitting your backs. You’re laying out everything you need to get your work done, a few articles to outline for class next week, your copy of The Odyssey to continue translating, and your notebook. Everything was color coded, so you took out the blue highlighter and the blue post-it notes that went along with them. All Eddie takes out is his laptop with his music program already loaded up, most likely left there from class earlier in the day, and his pretzels laid open right next to the laptop between the two of you. The cheez-its you bought came out a few minutes later once you heard Eddie quietly chewing and remembered your own food. Eventually, you and Eddie fall into a quiet, comfortable routine. You’re focusing on your work and he’s focusing on his. There are moments of brief conversation, like when you ask him if your translation of a sentence sounds clunky or not, or if he’s stuck on how a certain part of a song should sound, but otherwise it’s complete silence between you two.

At some point in your work you begin eyeing his pretzels. You hadn’t finished your cheez-its yet, still having around half of the small container left to eat, but you just found yourself craving the snack your friend had purchased. He bought a large bag and didn’t make much of a dent in it yet, so it wouldn’t hurt to just take a few pieces.

You glance over at Eddie, the muffled sounds of guitar chords from his music program blaring into his ears as he seems completely focused on his work. Part of you was surprised that he hadn’t complained about any hearing loss based on how loud he always kept things. He wouldn’t care if you took some, right?

You turn the bag over to you and take a few pretzels out of the bag, popping them in your mouth and resuming your own work. These clauses aren’t going to translate themselves, and you were getting to your favorite part of the story so you were excited to go over it again.

Eddie sees your movement out of the corner of his eye and does indeed notice you taking some of his food, not that he minds, of course. He’d give you the entire bag if you asked him. However, he did like being a pain in the ass to you sometimes, so he holds out an expectant hand between the two of you. It takes you a moment to notice it, and you only do when he begins wiggling his fingers in waiting and you see him looking right at you. He arches a brow at you and waits for you to pay up for the stolen salty snacks.

You crack a smile at him, which he returns, and then place a few cheez-its in his hand. They were roughly the same amount of pretzels that you took from him, you weren’t sure. He closes his hand once the crackers are in his hand and tosses them all into his mouth. His cheeks are puffed up like a chipmunk and you’re sure he must be getting crumbs over his laptop but doesn’t seem to care. His face is almost comical and it makes you laugh. Unbeknownst to you, he’s only doing this to get that exact reaction out of you. Your laughter gets him higher than even the best weed in the world. He wishes he could record it and listen to it all day long. Maybe one day he’ll ask if he can do that, but at this moment he’ll take what he can get.

Your laughter dies down and you’re trying to get back to work, which Eddie just could not accept, so he develops a plan. He initially wanted to buy Mountain Dew when he went into the convenience store, but they were unfortunately out so he went for Sprite instead. He looks over to you, looking adorable as always, especially when you’re deep in focus. Your brows are furrowed as you read a sentence out under your breath and tap your pen against the paper in frustration.

Eddie nudges you to get your attention and motions to one of the bottles of sprite that he’s pulling out of his bag. You watch him in confusion and curiosity as he unscrews the cap and begins to chug it. You watch his adam's apple bob as he’s drinking it, momentarily pausing to grimace and choke out, “This was a horrible idea,” before resuming the challenge he had set out for himself. You’re a little worried he might throw up from this but at the same time you’re curious to see if he can actually do it. It’s still not looking good for him though, judging by the way his face is contorting in pain and his free hand is now gripping his stomach.

Miraculously, he manages to down the entire bottle without puking. Eddie throws the bottle down on the ground and the hand once holding the sprite is now gripping the table. His head is hung low and he’s panting heavily. You’re leaning in to get a better look at him and place a cautious hand on his back.

He’s silent and keeps his head hung low. You scoot closer to him, your thighs now touching his and ask, “Ed, you okay?” and he shakes his head. His eyes are shut, he looks like he’s holding something back. You’re about to ask him if he needs anything - tums, water, hell maybe even an ambulance - before he speaks up.

“Sweetheart, I think I’m dying. There’s no saving me now.”

You’re glad he’s at least feeling well enough to make a joke - you think he’s joking. Second later, his eyes open wide in fear. He lets go of the table and is now fully bent over in pain. It’s a little hard to hear, but you swear you hear him say to himself, “This was the worst decision I’ve made in my entire life.”

Your concern for him intensifies and you begin to rub his back, trying to think of something, anything to help relieve the immense discomfort he’s feeling. He’s also becoming very quiet, and you’ve never known him to be a quiet person. He’s always making some noise, either tapping his pen against something or humming a tune under his breath. His shoes are always loud so everyone can hear him walking into a room. You’re sure he also snores when he sleeps, because you cannot imagine him just sleeping peacefully at night.

Finally, Eddie makes a noise.

The burp that comes out of Eddie doesn’t sound real. It’s akin to something you’d hear in a kids show because of how loud and exaggerated it sounded. There are a few people sitting at the next table who hear Eddie belch and look over at you two, and one of them even looks a little impressed. Eddie is once again quiet, but he looks less pained and more embarrassed by what just occurred. Your hand stops rubbing circles into his back and he’s relieved you haven’t removed it yet - it’s probably the only thing keeping him from running away. He soon looks up at you and plainly says, “I, uh, I thought I was gonna die.”

You nod and pat his back, but your hand still doesn’t move away from him. He’s honestly looking a little embarrassed and you didn’t even know he could get like that. In all the time you’ve known Eddie, you’ve always known him to be loud and proud, so this is something entirely new. You try to lighten the mood by saying, “I wouldn’t let you go that easily. You’re one of my best friends now so you’re stuck with me forever.” He smiles at that, and you can tell he’s starting to feel better by the small chuckle he let out. He’s looking down at his hands and playing with his rings again.

Eddie noticed how your hand never left his back and he could feel the warmth of it through his layers. He lifts his head slightly and you see him looking at you through his bangs. In that moment, you wish you could always look at him like this, just inches away from each other and no other friends to interrupt the moment. Every time you two were alone together every second felt so intimate. The bleary-eyed breakfasts, late night facetime calls where you two discussed your hopes and dreams, the times you would get high in his car and share your favorite songs with each other. Every moment was so cherished and you could only imagine the possibilities if things advanced between you two, if you became something more. More late night talks, he might put an arm around you during your movie nights, maybe you could go on some impromptu dates once midterms were over. They were nice ideas and all, but you had to shut them down before you began daydreaming about the man who sat beside you and almost died from drinking too much Sprite.

Instead of letting yourself get lost in your fantasies you turn your focus back to making Eddie smile since he always did the same for you. The eye contact was back but he had a smile that took your breath away every time. You (begrudgingly) take your hand off his back and nudge his shoulder with yours. “Nah, I knew you’d make it through that… so are you gonna chug that second bottle?” Eddie scoffs at the idea and playfully slaps your arm, finally laughing again and shaking his head.

“You’re insane if you think I’m EVER doing that shit again!” You watch as he gets up to jog over to the recycling bin and toss his empty Sprite bottle inside. Eddie turns around to see you pouting and giving him your best puppy dog eyes. He would definitely do it again since it made you happy, but he didn’t want you to see him actually throw up that time. “That look is NOT going to work on me, sweetheart. Don’t pull that shit on me!”

You try your best to ignore the comment and instead look down at your incomplete translation, deciding it best to focus on your studies and not the possible feelings he could have for you. Reluctantly, you take your hand off his back and say, “Okay! Let’s get back to work, shall we?”

Eddie nods his head and you go back to your schoolwork, but Eddie instead minimizes his music program and begins looking things up online. You don’t notice for a couple minutes until you look over at him to sneak another peek at his face and see that he’s scrolling through Netflix. You tap your pen against the laptop screen and say, “Hey. That’s not homework, close that.”

Eddie bats your hand away and clicks to Prime Video and opens the horror category up again. You speak up again, “You know, if you’re planning to write a song based on a horror movie there’s another band that already beat you to that. It might become their whole thing in the future.”

He’s ignoring you now and opens up a few more tabs with movies. You’re now as distracted as he is, leaning in to point out movies you liked or movies you wanted to see. Eddie stops looking at the screen and is now looking at your face, completely mesmerized by your beauty. He can’t believe you’d ever want to hang out with a guy like him.

“Hey, uh–“, Eddie scratches at the back of his head as he tries to figure out how to ask this without stumbling over his words and making himself look like an idiot in front of you “– we should do a movie night tonight, we haven’t had one in like two weeks. Are you free?”

You hesitate for a moment, mentally going over your schedule for the night. This was your only homework that had to be finished by tonight and the rest of your assignments can be finished tomorrow. Even if they were all due tomorrow, you’d much rather spend time with Eddie watching a movie together. The fits of laughter when someone dies, ordering pizza and arguing which snacks to eat after dinner, curling up under the blankets with your knees grazing each other. Lingering glances when your hands touch and the blush that always appears on Eddie’s cheeks when you two accidentally lock eyes. Those nights you let your mind wander, and wonder if maybe you could have a future with Eddie. Maybe you two could be more than friends. Perhaps you could have more than momentarily looks and brief touches. For now, you’ll take every moment you can get with him.

You respond to him with a smile, saying, “For you? I’m always free.”

Eddie is continuing to look nervous, his hands moving from his laptop to under the table and fiddling with the rings on his hands. He’s biting at his lip and going over his next words in his head, but sets them aside for later. He shifts his attention back to the tabs he had pulled up previously, clicking between a few possible choices.

“Ok, cool. So we have a few options… uh, there’s A Quiet Place, I think you said you haven’t watched that yet. We still haven’t finished our Saw marathon, so maybe we could do that? Or,”” Eddie clicks over to one last tab, the preview picture showing a silhouette of a giant deer standing in front of a burning house with what looked like hands hanging from its face, “we could watch The Ritual. This one looks amazing.”

You take his laptop and tilt it towards you and read through the summary given by the streaming service and scroll down to the reviews - they’re all positive and talk about how unnerving the movie is. The eerie imagery combined with the whole movie being set in the woods already had your skin crawling. You don’t notice yourself doing it, but you start smiling as you read each review talking about how this movie gave people nightmares and how they could never look at a forest the same again. Once you hit the bottom of the page, you turn the laptop back to Eddie and confidently say, “Eddie, we have to watch that.”

He’s nodding and closes his laptop for now before fully turning to you. There’s a constant hum of students in the walkways in front of you as they’re all let out of class, and Eddie finds it a little calming as he tries to figure out what to say. He hesitates a little before biting the bullet.

“How would you feel about making it a date?”

You blink a few times as you try to process what he just asked you. Maybe your parents were right and you really were damaging your hearing by listening to your music too loud because there’s no way you just heard Eddie Munson ask you out. There are so many things you want to ask. Why? Are you sick? Is this a joke? Please don’t let it be a joke.

All you can muster is a confused, “What?” before Eddie has to begin explaining himself.

“I’ve wanted to ask you out ever since I’ve met you, but I’ve been scared that you might not feel the same way and I might ruin our friendship,” Eddie takes your hand in his and then takes the other which was currently sitting on your lap. There’s a constant hum around you two as people are leaving their classes and making their ways to their destinations, whether it be their next class, the commuter lounge, or home for the day. You can barely hear it over the sound of your heart beat. Eddie continues on, “Steve told me the other day that he was sick of watching me stare at you like a lovesick puppy and said he was pretty sure you liked me back, so I figured I might as well try…”

You look down at his hands and a drop of water falls down onto one of them. Is it raining? No, you’re crying. Hurriedly, you reach to wipe the tear away hoping Eddie doesn’t notice but how could he not when he’s been watching you this entire time. His hand beats you to it and wipes the following tears away. In a hushed tone, he asks, “Hey, hey, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” It’s that damn pet name again. You weren’t imagining things - he doesn’t treat everyone like this, you realize, this is all real.

Your eyes shut but the tears continue to fall. Thankfully, you manage to keep the noise to a minimum to avoid any unwanted attention. Between quiet sobs, you say, “I’m sorry, but nobody has ever liked me, and I couldn’t imagine anyone ever liking me back. I’m just not used to this. I thought this could only ever happen in my dreams.”

Eddie stays quiet as you tearfully explain your lack of dating history and the guys in school only ever asking you out as a joke, how it wrecked your self-esteem and by the time you were halfway through college you just gave up. Never in a million years did you imagine someone like Eddie would ever like you, but here he is. Eddie’s hand stays on you, eventually moving from your cheek down to your shoulder and down to your arm. It’s a comforting reminder that again, this is real and he’s there.

Once you’ve finished explaining yourself, Eddie squeezes the one hand he’s still holding. He says, “I wish I could have met you earlier, whether it be earlier in college or high school. I wish I could have made you realize how beautiful you are and shower you with compliments until you finally see yourself in the same way that I see you - as the most beautiful, stunning, perfect person in the entire universe. And sweetheart, if you let me, I promise to start right fucking now.”

You had to be dreaming at that point because Eddie Munson does not feel real to you. Either you’re dreaming or your daydreams have gotten a little too realistic. You chew at your lip and ask him, “You’re really serious?”

“As serious as a heart attack. Now, is that a date?”

You feel your face flush and nod sheepishly, having to break eye contact and look down at your conjoined hands. Eddie chuckles at your reaction and gives your hands a squeeze before he unfortunately lets go of them. He turns to face his laptop again and opens it back up before saying, “Great, now let’s get back to work, shall we?”

A few hours later, Eddie returns to his shared apartment with Steve with a pep in his step. He’s humming a little tune and places his backpack next to the door. Steve is lounging on the couch playing video games after class, having changed into a Hawkins Basketball hoodie and black sweats, when Eddie arrives and he’s immediately suspicious of him. It reminds Steve of the day that Eddie met you so he has an inkling of an idea of what could have happened today. Sure, Eddie has been in a better mood ever since the two of you reunited, but even this was a bit much.

Steve pauses the level and rests the controller on his chest before looking at his roommate - Eddie pads over to the kitchen and opens the fridge to survey the contents of it. After that he goes through each of the light oak cabinets, taking note of the snacks available to them. He’s talking to himself, something like, “The regular popcorn should be fine, right? She hasn’t complained about it so far…” and pulls his phone out to tap a quick message away. Eddie turns to the living room to head towards his room when he finally notices Steve. “Oh, Steve! Hey uh, can you do me a huge favor?”

Steve cocks a brow at Eddie and replies with a cautious, “Okay…? What is it?”

Eddie walks over to Steve on the couch and shoves a hand in his pocket, the other scratching at his stubble on his chin. Should he shave? No, you already saw him like this earlier. It would be weird if you came over and saw that he shaved. “Can you like… fuck off for the rest of the night?”

Steve scoffs and fully sits up, the video game controller long forgotten now and falls from his chest to his lap and onto the carpeted floor. “You want me to fuck off? Last time I checked we both live here.”

Eddie realized how that sounded the moment he closed his mouth and was already fumbling over his words to try and sound like less of a tool.

“I mean, I just need the place for a few hours. You’ve asked me to do the same thing, remember? Please.”

The former jock pulls a leg up to rest on the couch to lean on it. “Yeah man, but that’s for when Nancy comes over. Like, for a date.”

“Well, I… ok so,” Eddie shuffles his feet and kicks at the leg of the coffee table, looking up at Steve and raises his eyebrows at him, “I did as you told me to today.”

It takes Steve a second to realize what he’s talking about because, frankly, Steve has asked Eddie to do a lot of things. Like the dishes and to take out the bathroom trash. Also, Eddie can be a bit of a dumbass sometimes. Then, it clicks. He shoots up off the couch, the controller falling onto the carpeted floor with a muffled thump.

“Jesus Christ, you finally fucking did it. You asked her out? Seriously?”

Eddie squints and leans in, lowering his head and speaks in a hushed voice. “No Steve, i asked out the lady that works at the fucking dining hall. We have a real connection and bonded over the fucking pancakes. OF COURSE I ASKED HER OUT, YOU DUMBASS.”

Steve narrowly misses the coffee table as he runs past it to pull Eddie into a bear hug. Eddie is awkwardly standing there but eventually hugs his roommate and even laughs a little. He would never say this, but Steve is actually proud of Eddie for finally telling you how he felt. Steve swore he’d never see the day where his best friend would finally confess his feelings towards you. In fact, he was so confident that he and Robin made bets on it.

Steve remembers this and pulls away with a huff as he silently pads to the couch to grab his phone. Eddie watches him in confusion as his roommate seemingly angrily taps away on his phone. When Steve eventually looks up with pursed lips, Eddie cocks an eyebrow as if to ask what’s going on?

Steve states, “I owe Robin $25 now.”

taglist: @justalotoffanfiction @iyskgd

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #scripsi

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cosmerelists · 1 day ago

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Randomly Assembled Cosmere Roommates: How Will They Fare?

[Note: This post contains major WAT spoilers!]

@truthwatcherblog created a poll (which should still be going on, if I've gotten my dates right?) wherein you spin a picker wheel to randomly assign yourself three Stormlight roommates. With OP's permission, I'm going to use their picker wheel not to give myself roommates, but to create trios of Stormlight characters who now must room together. Let's see how it goes!

[I faithfully adhered to the picker wheel except for skipping repeats. Lin Davar came up THREE times!]

1. Lopen, the Nightwatcher, Cord

The Nightwatcher would stay holed up in her room all day, leaving mostly just Lopen & Cord, who did travel together during Dawnshard...a story in which we learned that Lopen has a huge crush on Cord. Hopefully they'd sort that out pretty quick so that it doesn't turn into a Wayne/Ranette situation.

Cord: And this is my girlfriend, Rysn. Lopen: Well okay, but I'm not gonna stop trying to impress you with my jokes and manly ways! Cord: ...To try to win me over? Lopen: No, I mostly just like making people laugh and and I like being complimented. For my manly ways. Cord: I can live with that. Nightwatcher: [Through the closed door and the ten million blankets that she shrouds herself in] Can someone please bring me ice cream?

2. Moash, Lin Davar [Shallan's dad], Syl

[sing-song voice] Someone is getting muuuurdered!

Lin: Are you stupid as well as blind, dark-eyes? I SAID to pour me wine! Moash: [already drawing his sword] Syl: In this house, we stan some extrajudicial killings.

3. Lezian, Masha-daughter-Shaliv [Szeth's wife], Maya

This household is never at peace.

Lezian: I CAN'T do the dishes, I'm busy STALKING and KILLING people! Maya: [arms folded] A good soldier doesn't shy away from unglamorous work. Maya: You can be a "killing slut" later. Lezian: STOP CALLING ME THAT Masha (busy writing): Hey guys, what's a synonym for "bald"?

4. Skar, Rock, Kmakl [Queen Fen's husband]

It all works out great once they set some boundaries.

Skar: No more sex with your wife in the living room without warning us first. Kmarkl: Fiiiiine. Skar: We all love your stew, Rock, but sometimes other people want to use the big pot, too. Rock: Fair enough, fair enough! Rock: And you, Skar, need to stop throwing our stuff out the window just because we leave them lying around! Kmarkl: I couldn't find my lucky socks for two weeks! Skar: ... Skar: Wow, living together really is about compromise.

5. Roshone, Huio, Taravangian

Mostly, I feel sorry for Huio.

Roshone: Can't believe my wife kicked me out. Can't belive I have to have roommates. Taravangian: Nobody go into the basement, okay? I'm using it to store my...stuff. Roshone: Why does your "stuff" require so much sound-proofing, anyway? Taravangian: It's, uh, a playroom for my...noisy grandchildren? Roshone: Sure, that feels right. Huio: [in the kitchen making soup] Huio: (muttering to himself in Herdazian): I'm NEVER telling them I can understand Alethi.

6. Szeth, Rlain, Drehy

This is going to be SO good for Szeth's mental health! Drehy's gonna be working overtime helping both of his roommates, though.

Rlain: So, uh... Drehy: Yes, you may ask me all of your "gay" questions. Rlain: I really appreciate that! Szeth: Kaladin says that I must "ask other people" if I have a thought that "does not quite seem right." Szeth: I pose this to you both: if you burn a dinner you were really looking forward to, is death the answer? Rlain: No! Drehy: I'll order pizza.

7. Gezamal [Yanagawn's guard], Ishnah [Lightweaver], Testament [dead-eyed cryptic]

Testament is really the glue that holds this household together.

Gezamal: Ishnah, let's have dinner together tonight and talk. Ishnah: What, why? Gezamal: Testament and I share a bond since she is a dead-eye and I am Unoathed. Testament: [gives thumbs-up] Gezamal: You and Testament share a bond because you are a Ligthweaver and she is a Cryptic. Testament: [gives thumbs-up] Gezamal: For household solidarity, you and I should now figure out what we have in common. Ishnah: ...What's that big book you have? Gezamal: I pre-drafted a list of things we might have in common. Gezamal: For example, as a member of the Unseen Court, were you ever punished with lavatory duty? That happened to me once. Ishnah: Oh, this conversation is gonna be rough.

8. Elid [Szeth's sister], Kalak [herald], Wyndle

Kalak, scared as he is of humans, much prefers one of his two roommates...

Wyndle: Oh, I'm so glad you like this! "How It's Made" is one of my FAVORITE shows, but the mistress says it's "boring." Kalak: It's great! I've never felt so calm! Elid: Yo, what are we watching? Kalak: Eep! Elid: ... Elid: The Almighty Herald is hiding behind a cushion again, huh? Wyndle: I-I'm sure he doesn't mean to offend you!

9. Wit, Aladar [highprince], Renarin

It's like Christmas came early for Wit--he likes to make fun of both of them!

Wit: [eyes glinting] Aladar: W-We should make an alliance now, Renarin! Aladar: Together we can stand up even to this man! Renarin: Oh, uh... Renarin: I actually already made an alliance with Wit this morning, when he asked. Aladar: NOOOOO

10. Abidi the Monarch, the Thrill, Tanavast

Okay, I'm sure your mind went immediately to "sheer destruction," but what if...?

Tanavast: Abidi! It's YOUR turn to walk the Thrill! The Thrill: [bouncing excitedly at the word "walk"] Abidi: Not now, you fool! There are people being wrong on the internet, and I must bathe in their blood! [sitcom laugh track] Abidi: And I keep telling you to call me Abidi the Monarch! Tanavast (muttering): More like Abidi the Moron. The Thrill: Arf! Arft! [sitcom laugh track] [Theme song starts playing, revealing the sitcom title: 3 Old Gods]

#cosmere #cosmerelists #wat spoilers #wind and truth #wind and truth spoilers #kowt spoilers

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creatureheart · 9 hours ago

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Well if we're going to go by things being literally tangible and not personally perceived then you are not a brown bear and I am not a horse or hyena, even psychologically or spiritually, no matter what we say because personal identity is not a literally tangible thing that others outside of ourselves can experience or observe for us. Your commentary about things having to be part of the shared reality that people experience is hypocritical when it comes to personal identity. Especially with identities where one identifies as something other than human that most in the shared reality would see as delusional or false. These things cannot be completely studied by science in a way that would prove them literally tangible, and even science is not concrete in its findings as it is forever changing as new information is found and old becomes outdated. Science is us learning how the world works, not something that is immutable.

This same kind of argument of things needing to be literal is actually used by bigots, — and I'm not using this to be "needlessly antagonistic" but to state a fact, — to dismiss the identity of those who are queer/trans, because they do not see our identities as literally tangible, as in not a part of objective reality. You may not be on the same level as bigots, but you are using the same talking points and mindsets as them. That because the majority(objective reality) does not think something is correct when it comes to personal identity(subjective reality) that this thing is harmful and needs to be changed or eradicated in some way to fit the strict idea of what is said to be objective reality, even if the personal identity hurts no one.

Side Note 1: I also really dislike how you worded in the original post: "from self identified “physical therians”," and put physical therians in quotations because it reminds me of how you'll see terfs/tirfs and transphobes be all "self identified "trans men/trans women"," in quotations to show they do not believe the person's perception of their own identity.

You also may not think you are invalidating the existence or experiences of those who have physical identities, but that is quite literally what you are doing by telling them that the words they use for themselves are not correct and they should be using something else instead. You say anyone has the right to use whatever word they want, yet say they shouldn't use a word they are using. You are dismissing their identity as only something you think it is when that's not the only way physical nonhumans experience it. A very narrow view of something you are not even a part of, which in turn makes it worse that you are telling people how they should experience their own identity. Even when those who are physical nonhumans talk about it to you, you ignore or dismiss and invalidate their experience — example being the reply to @d0gbite where you denied her experience, in a way that is probably counted as reality checking/fake claiming. Not only was that entirely unnecessary/rude to just outright deny someone their own experience with their own identity, but these things can actually cause more harm to those you may interact with in these spaces who experience delusions because you are quite literally telling them their reality that their brain is experiencing is false. That can cause those with delusions to actually sink further into the delusion or lead to negative effects like distress and physical/psychological harm towards themselves or other people when they lash out in defense of themselves and their reality. It might not be literally tangible/objective reality, but it is still their reality in that moment.

Side Note 2: Here is a post that talks about how you can actually help someone who may be experiencing psychosis/delusions that are causing actual distress in a way that doesn't completely shut down their current reality as a starting place. But you must also keep in mind that not all delusions are distressing or harmful. Things are not black and white. There are many people who live with psychosis 24/7 and will never be able to completely rid themselves of delusions and other things even with help, but unless they are in immediate danger or the experience is negatively affecting their lives in some way, no one has any right to tell them how they should think or live.

All this feels along the same lines of someone telling me I shouldn't use the umbrella term "queer" for myself because it's intentionally vague, because my sexuality is asexual and my gender is genderqueer in more specific terms, so only these should be used because they are more succinct in communication. (I use analogies with queer experience because I am queer and it's another part of my identity that I have and can speak on.)

And yes, language is a tool, but we also completely made it up. Tools can also be shaped to fit the context that they are needed in. Language is a tool because it's what we use to describe what we are experiencing and isn't something we should use to define strict lines. Especially when it comes to something as abstract and intangible as personal identity because you will NEVER find a single term that encompasses ALL variants of something like this. Trying to dismiss a term that has been used, again, for decades at this point, because you do not think it fits what you have seen, or what you think it should mean, is not as helpful as you think it is. I again comment that physical in this context is an umbrella term. It covers a wide range of different experiences that have to do with the physical body in some way. This /can/ include those that experience a disconnect from their physical body but that is not always the case. Just as not all spiritual nonhumans are because of past lives, or psychological nonhumans are that way because of trauma. Then there is the entire overlap with psychological leading to a physical identity because of how one may perceive themselves because of their neurodivergence, whether through delusions or otherwise. Where would they fall under your suggested terms? Especially if they do not have the disconnect from their physical body, that this is just how they see it themselves?

Do those who experience species dysphoria about their bodies, which happens with non-physical therians and nonhumans too, also fall under your idea of depersonalization? Does everything where one is not entirely satisfied with their human body?

I think the problem here is that you are taking the term physical TOO literally in the context of personal identity and equating that to only individuals who believe they are entirely physically nonhuman or who think they can become physically nonhuman — physical identity is not the same as p-shifting, and one does not always lead to the other, and is something that a large portion of physical nonhumans denounce. This seems to be a concern for you so I thought I would comment on that. For some individuals, yes they mean they believe their body is literally that of an animal or creature, but that is not the only case. As I have mentioned before, the term physical here is for ANYTHING to do with the physical body if the individual feels this term is what fits their experience. And to try and shove all of these different experiences under a label that does not even statistically fit the majority is not the correct thing to do.

Also you keep talking about the physical term being contentious as if the entire identity of being nonhuman isn't also controversial in the bigger picture. Even with more succinct language there will still be people who do not believe or understand things. And there will always be those who do not neatly fit under a more specific word. Also the only contention about people using the term physical seems to come from people who are not physically identifying themselves and how much they don't like the term, not keeping in mind that, and repeating myself here, /it's not made for you/.

Ancestral can imply physical identity because it pertains to that being nonhuman is passed down through genetics/heritage. Again where do these people fit under the terms you have proposed? If we want to be even more history focused, some of the founders and early members of the modern online Otherkin community are ancestral in their identity, which means they believe they have physical connection to their nonhuman ancestors(Elves and Fae).

Which then also leads to more questions for you to think about: What about non-animal/creature physical identities? Like fictional humans, or humanoid nonhuman/alterhumans? Are they also shoved under the idea that their experience is depersonalization? Or is it only for the people who identify as an animal/creature because the others are still human/humanoid even if fictional/extinct/etc?

Anyway, just some things to think about. I probably won't be replying anymore as I feel I have said everything I can, and brain capacity for this has run out, and it should be actually talked about by those who are physically identifying nonhumans if they wish to talk.

I don’t think the term “physical therian” encompasses the experience described by those who use the term.

I think a more accurate term would be “depersonalized therianthropy” which could be shortened to “depo therian”.

Depersonalized therianthropy: when one’s animalistic identity creates a complete disconnect from their body causing them to not recognize their observable traits as their own

This encompasses the anecdotes I have heard and read from self identified “physical therians”. Whether this experience is caused by delusion, dysphoria, or rejection of humanity, this term is applicable.

This does not include those who use the term to convey that they refer to their body with animal biological terms.

I believe this should be called “bioterms”. It could be communicated similarly to pronouns.

Hypothetical Ex:

Toby (he/him) (wolf bioterms)

This conveys that he would like his hair to be called fur, nails to be called claws, hands to be called paws, mouth to be called muzzle, etc.

The use of the word “physical” in therianthropic terms is inaccurate and confusing. I am open to hearing other proposed terms but I think using the word “physical” should be phased out for clarity sake.

#physical nonhuman #physical nonhumanity #physically nonhuman #long post #creature; the discourse #reality checking #fake claiming #<- tagging those just in case #discourse #identity

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bqstqnbruin · 2 days ago

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Letters Unsent

Listen listen I know this is my second Quinn fic in a row but I was scrolling through Libby yesterday during parent/teacher conferences and I saw a book that was about letters written between twins that never got sent and then I browned out and next thing I knew this fic was written.

Shoutout to @nicohischier for reading thing while I yelled about it in her dms when she was living life

Warnings: SA(?) (kissing without consent and then she knees him in the dick), swearing, drinking, mentions of sex, angst

WC: 4006

____________________

Dear Quinn,

My therapist told me I’m supposed to write letters to the people I wish I had one more conversation with. Apparently it’s supposed to help me get all the feelings that I’ve kept bottled up, out in a way where I don’t have to actually say them. Not only did she tell me I had to, but she told me she would read them. Talk about an unnecessary invasion of privacy. Is that even legal?

But, I’m paying her (or my health insurance is paying her) for a reason, and Kelly seems chill anyway, so I guess that’s fine. I’m writing to you and to my grandmother, the one who passed away when I was little, so don’t feel that special. You’re not even going to read these anyway, so I’m not sure why you would.

Do you remember when we first met? Elias was convinced that the two of us were meant to be, and for some reason, Brock and Ally agreed, too? Ally still brings up that even when we were friends, our entire friend group somehow knew that you and I would end up together. I’m actually surprised it was Elias who said it was us first, and not Ally. It was always supposed to be us.

I just wish we didn’t end that way.

Lov From,

Sarina

Dear Quinn,

I don’t remember the last time I went out to a bar and got as drunk as I did last night. Ally kept buying drinks (or, conning men into buying us drinks, her favorite pastime). I think the last time I really drank that much might have been the night we first met. Ally told me that I needed to go out for once and forget, since I’ve really just been moping around the apartment (Kelly I know you’re going to read this, calm down I’m writing it for a reason). But what’s the point of going out when there’s nothing to really see?

Going to bars bores me, you know this. Why spend money to get to the bar, then spend money to get into the bar, then spend more money once you’re inside the bar, then spend even more money to get home from the bar, when I can stay at home and drink for a lot less money and with a lot less people around?

Anyway.

I still don’t really understand how we all became friends. At that point, Ally was just my roommate, and it was just the two of us against the world. I think if Brock hadn’t spilled his drink all over me, we probably would have just avoided the three of you. The fact that we even went out in the first place was astonishing. I didn’t even realize what had happened, the fact that I was covered in some sticky, alcoholic liquid, until I heard you scolding him for it. Your voice is what pulled me in to the group, you were what kept me in.

Brock, of course, insisted he make up for it, as he would, while you just stood off to the side and laughed into your drink, the scolding from moments before gone while you watched Brock make a fool of himself (as Ally and I would later learn, was actually just him being him). He brought the five of us so many drinks, he might have spent a year's worth of his salary that night alone.

Ok, not his salary. My salary, maybe.

I don’t know what came over me that night we met, though. You know me well enough to know that I am not the type of person to do something big, or something that might scare me if I can help it.

Asking you to dance was definitely because of the alcohol. Working up the courage to do that when the rest of our friends were standing talking was easy because of the alcohol. There was something about the vibe that night that made me want to do it. Something inside me was telling me I had to, or that I would regret it.

Part of me does regret it, sometimes. But, fuck, I’m glad I did it.

Maybe that’s why they all say that we were meant for each other. Something about you had me doing things I never would have done otherwise. Ally took pictures of us while we were dancing. She said that we should use them for when the two of us inevitably got married. I don’t think I’ve ever looked at someone the way I looked at you.

Maybe it was the alcohol.

Maybe it was because you were looking at me the same way.

LoFrom,

Sarina

Dear Quinn,

I hate my job I hate my job I hate my job I hate my job.

Something, something, Kelly would tell me that if this is making me this unhappy, that I should quit, blah, blah, blah.

In this economy, though??? With this job market??? Maybe I go to another country…

I fucking hate that one guy, Jamie. Do you remember him?

I feel like I ask you that a lot, if you remember certain things. I guess I’m just wondering if you think about me and us as much as I think about you. I hate how that sounds/reads/looks, but unfortunately for me, it’s true. I shouldn’t think about you as much as I do, but, here we are. That’s probably why you were the first person I thought of to write to when Kelly told me to start (sorry Grandma).

Anyway, Jamie was that guy we ran into that one night at the bar, before we started dating. Of course you remember him. You probably remember him more than you remember anything about me at this point.

He kept hitting on me, at one point had his hand on my arm and you went fucking crazy.

It was insanely hot.

I’ve told you that before, but I might as well tell you that again.

What was even hotter in the moment was when you came up behind me and wrapped your arms around my waist. I always felt safe in your arms, if I’m being honest. That’s fucking corny of me.

Whatever.

You came up behind me and told him that you were glad he was keeping me company, that I was safe with someone I knew. I’m almost positive I heard you call me ‘your girl,’ but it was so loud in there, who knows. I hope you did.

I’ve never seen someone so pissed off as I had when Jamie stomped away.

I’ve never seen someone look the way you did, almost hungry? Jealous? When Jamie came over to me in the first place. I saw you the entire time, the way you clenched your glass, how you nearly threw it at Elias when you first saw Jamie touch me. I thought you were just trying to be a good friend.

But it was the fact that you didn’t let go of me, you rested your chin on my head, even when Jamie was out of my sight.

I finally was able to turn around and get a look at you at one point after we just stood there for a little bit, the two of us starting to sway to the music. For me, it felt like there was no one else around us. I asked you why you were still holding on to me.

The fact that you just smiled at me, your hands tightening on my waist instead of outright answering me made my heart skip a beat. Every stupid, gooey, wonderful feeling you could think of when you know that you were in love with the person in front of you ran through me.

My mind went blank when you finally kissed me. When I finally could form a coherent thought, the only thing I could think of was how that felt right.

You felt right.

I started this letter to talk about my job, but honestly, Jamie isn’t even worth it. He never really was.

LFrom,

Sarina

Dear Quinn,

The fact that we didn’t outright start dating after that night you kissed me drove me fucking insane. I don’t think I ever told you that, but seeing you talk to any other girl when we went out made me feel like I was going fucking insane.

I can’t believe you let me be jealous about a guy, about you of all people. I’m honestly pissed at you for that. And, the fact that I can see you reading this, see you throw your head back laughing at this, that kind of smile on your face as rare as it is would make me even more pissed at you.

The first time you asked me to come to a game after we kissed was the worst. Together, both of us tried to act like it had never happened. Ally apparently kept texting you telling you what you should do next, since, of course, she would be the one in our friend group to not only see us kiss, but to record it. Another video for our wedding, apparently (I still don’t know what she meant by ‘another’). Regardless, we had continued on like nothing happened, like we hadn’t kissed. Like it hadn’t meant anything to you.

And I had to pretend the same, even though it was sending me into a spiral.

After the game, you told us how to meet you outside your locker room so we could go get dinner (I kind of hate matinee games? They’re too early to do anything before and end too early to do something meaningful after? I felt like we were supposed to get a senior citizens discount when we finally made it to dinner). I saw you talking to that one girl; she was gorgeous. Honestly, when you think of the perfect girl, you probably should think of her.

I saw you laugh and smile at her, and I felt a pit in my stomach wishing it was me you were talking to.

When you hugged her, your hand lingering on her arm and the smile on your face staying there after you walked away, before you saw Ally and I with Elias and Brock, I felt like I could scream.

You knew something was wrong when I barely said anything on the way over. You were the one who didn’t buy it when I said I was just tired from work still, that I hadn’t slept the night before. You were the one who called my bluff when I said I wasn’t hungry because you were the one who heard my stomach, who was on Facetime with me when I went to sleep the night before.

I hated that you were the one who could call me out; not Ally, who I’ve lived with and been best friends with for how many years, you. I hated that you were the reason I shut down.

I hated you for a second.

How was I supposed to know that was Jake’s sister?

From,

Sarina

Dear Quinn,

When you finally asked me out, I knew it was because Ally had threatened you (affectionately). I pretended to be surprised that you were going to ask me, but I knew it was coming, I just didn’t know when. You never really were the type to let everyone in on things right away, were you?

I was surprised how you had the audacity to take me out to dinner and only let me know after you dropped me off that you thought it was a date, our first date. It must have been nice to go into dinner knowing it was a date when I had no idea it was.

Sometimes I just wish you would have talked to me when you were thinking. You’re so quiet, you always look like you’re lost in thought, and I thought I could tell how to find you again. I felt like I knew everything, but apparently, I didn’t.

From,

Sarina

Dear Quinn,

Kelly told me that she wants to open up more in these letters. Apparently, I’m not letting myself ‘feel enough’ and that these letters are too vague, whatever that means.

Fine, Kelly.

You know when I knew for sure that I loved you? The first time we slept together.

I didn’t tell you for three weeks after that that I loved you, even though I knew, and you didn’t tell me you loved me for almost two months after that.

I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.

If you had told me, we wouldn’t have gotten so pissed off at each other all the time. I know I’m shit when it comes to sharing my feelings, but god, you were even worse.

The first time we fought was barely a real fight. It was just us not talking.

You were pissed off when I told you I had to do a project with Jamie. It’s not like I asked to be paired with him. I actually actively asked to not be anywhere near him as much as possible, but apparently, so does everyone else (capitalism is the worst, what do you mean the guy we all hate can stay at the job because he brings in a lot of money?) when I said I was talking to him at night because we had to get this project done, that the faster I could get the project done, the sooner I could go back to ignoring him.

Jamie was a fucking prick. Jamie is a fucking prick. But god, that night I would have talked to Jamie if it meant you didn’t act that way.

I don’t remember everything that brought us up to it, but I remember it dawning on me. I didn’t know for sure that you liked me, or if you hated Jamie more from the stories I had told you. I doubted you. I doubt you. I never told you that outright, in those words, because how do you tell the person you’re supposed to love that you don’t think they love you back?

I asked you if you kissed me that night because you actually wanted to, or if it was just to make Jamie mad. He was still in the bar, even if I didn’t see him. You had seen him. You could see him. You saw him when you kissed me. You saw him over my shoulder when you pulled away. You admitted to it.

You kissed me to get back at a guy you hadn’t said more than a couple words to.

And then you told me it was because you loved me. Because you were in love with me. That you apparently knew when you first met me that you were going to fall in love with me, if you hadn’t fallen already.

I stared at you, furious at you and believing that you started our relationship because you wanted to, what, claim me? Mark me? I don’t even know. But then you told me the one thing I wanted to hear from you and the only thing I wanted to do was throw something at you.

So I walked out of your apartment instead. I called Brock, I had him pick me up, and he drove me back to my and Ally’s place.

It was Brock who tried to convince me that what you said was real, that you actually meant it, and that he and Elias knew it was the truth because you told them. For some reason, you had waited until then, until we were screaming at each other, to tell me. It was Ally who needed to be calmed down after threatening to kill you, only once Brock pointed out that the city would probably riot against her.

I was numb.

And it was you who made me feel that way. I felt nothing. I wanted to feel so many things, anything really, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t feel a fucking thing. These letters are supposed to be me going back and figure out and really acknowledging what I was feeling throughout what I think were our biggest moments. But I didn’t feel anything.

Are you happy now, Kelly?

From,

Sarina

Dear Quinn,

I think after that last letter, I was nervous to write another. Ally found me sitting and crying at my desk. Apparently I never told her the full story of what had happened that night or why I didn’t talk to you for two weeks, even though she and Brock tried to get it out of me, Elias going over to your place once you called him. Elias didn’t know either, from the sound of it. We were Rory and Logan without the Bridal Party (if you still don’t get the Gilmore Girls reference, then we really shouldn’t have been together in the first place. We watched the show seven times, at least).

We didn’t really know how to be around each other for a bit after that, did we? It took us a while to get back to where we were before.

Who says that they love someone when they’re in the middle of a fight like that? Who says it for the first time like that? If you loved me, shouldn’t you have told me before? Shouldn’t you have told me in a different way?

I didn’t think you meant it when you told me you loved me, but everyone told me that you did, so I think I let myself believe it. At least at that point, I did. I think you loved me. You never seemed to be able to reassure me when I had my doubts, if you even knew that I had them. I know I loved you.

I’ve spent the last year and a half trying to convince myself that I don’t love you anymore.

Kelly, is that what these letters are supposed to be doing? Am I supposed to convince myself that I don’t love Quinn, or that I do?

We’re about to have a really intense session, aren’t we?

From,

Sarina

Dear Quinn,

At this point, I’m just mad. These letters are just making me mad. I’m still mad about how we broke up, I’m still mad that you kissed me the way you did.

I’m still mad that I think about you all the fucking time.

The reason we broke up is what makes me furious.

I told you nothing was going on with Jamie.

I don’t like him. I have never liked him. I will never like him. The only person who mattered to me the entire relationship was you. You are were the one who mattersed to me.

I told you so many times that Jamie was the one who kissed me. You knew I would never kiss that guy.

But the fact that you saw it? I’ve never felt like screaming and crying more than I did in that moment, causing a scene in public and embarrassing everyone be damned. The look on your face when I finally was able to push him off me, only to see you standing right there, drinks for both of us in your hands. I could see the tears in your eyes, your Adam's Apple bobbing up and down while you swallowed what I was sure was rage, anger, hurt, fury. You didn’t see that I was crying, too. You didn’t see that I was struggling to get him away from me. It was only a kiss, one that I didn’t want to happen, and you didn’t see anything other than his lips on mine.

If you did, you didn’t seem to care.

You nearly broke the glasses as you slammed them down on the table near you, knocking over multiple people when you stormed out of the bar.

I had to knee Jamie in the dick to get him off me so I could chase after you.

You broke up with me right there. I don’t know how I could forget the look in your eyes when you told me you didn’t want to see me anymore if I was going to cheat on you with Jamie when you were standing right there, as if I intended to do that. You looked like you could kill someone.

You didn’t care that I wasn’t the one who fucking kissed him, that I didn’t kiss him back, that you are the only person I want to kiss. If you heard anything I yelled at you when you were walking away, you didn’t care. You left me there, and I had to watch you walk away.

Ally found me on the sidewalk, sitting on the ground against the building outside where you told me you didn’t care about me anymore. I couldn’t even tell her what happened because I screamed so loud that my voice was gone.

Fuck you for that, Quinn.

Sarina

Dear Quinn,

Fine, I fucking miss you. That’s why I thought of you first to write to. There are so many fucking things that I never got to say, that I never got to ask, that I know you never told me that have been eating away at me and occupying my thoughts more than I want them to.

I miss you, I miss being held by you, touched by you, kissed by you. I miss the feeling if your skin against mine, the feeling of you inside me, for fucks sake. I miss when you would talk to me like I was the only person who mattered to you, because I know that you loved me as much as I love you.

I miss every god damn stupid habit that you have, every little quirk of yours that you did on a game day that would drive me fucking insane.

I still come home sometimes when you guys are on a road trip and expect you to call me, no matter where on the continent you are, because you missed me and I missed you and we needed to hear each others voices.

I miss the guys and being friends with them, even though Ally still talks to them and gets to see them.

You never let me tell you what really happened, because I don’t think you cared. I don’t know if you loved me.

I wish you did, because, fuck, I still love you.

Are you happy now, Kelly?

I still love Quinn. You’re going to tell me that I’m too young to say this, but: I will always love that stupid, sad, wonderful boy that I met by chance one night at a bar and got to spend time with. I will always love the guy who made me laugh so hard I couldn’t breathe and cry so hard I couldn’t speak. I will always love Quinn, no matter who else I will fall in love with, or out of love with, if I stay here in Vancouver until I die, or if he gets traded or if I move on my own.

Fuck.

Love,

Sarina

Dear Sarina,

I get that I was never supposed to see these. I probably am not supposed to know they even exist, but I’m fucking glad I do. You’re going to kill Ally for sending these to me, but, let’s face it, she’s the one who’s been pushing for us since minute one. Would we have had anything if we didn’t have Ally?

But I don’t want to talk about her.

I miss you.

I want you back.

I’m a fucking idiot for not being with you, for walking away from you that night.

You think that I didn’t love you? I’ve loved you this entire time. I loved you from the first time we talked, even though, you’re right, I didn’t say it when I should have because I’m an idiot.

Can we talk?

Love,

Quinn

Dear Quinn,

Yes.

Love,

Sarina

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl fic #vancouver canucks #canucks #vancouver canucks fic #vancouver canucks imagine #canucks fic #canucks imagine #hockey #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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shipper4everships · 1 day ago

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BuckTommy Fluffebruary: Day 16

~AU: didn’t know they were dating~

It all started by chance. Buck had just started his service at 118th station, while Tommy was in the process of transferring to station 217. Tommy’s transfer was delayed, so they began working together. Tommy was usually a composed and somewhat introverted guy, not quick to let people close, but Buck was so sincere and open that Tommy let his guard down.

They became friends, and Tommy showed Buck some of his secret tricks that helped him on the job, which later came in handy for Buck on calls.

"Hey, you only told me about them in my second year here - why does the rookie get such privileges?" Eddie asked teasingly.

On their days off, they sometimes went to the gym together or invited each other to the bar for a beer and to watch a match.

"I thought you weren't very into basketball before, Buck. Something changed?" Chim in with a grin. Buck just waved off the question.

When it came time for Tommy to complete his transfer to station 217, he briefly thought about refusing it because he was afraid their communication would end. But Buck turned out to be better than he could have imagined and supported Tommy’s decision to transfer.

"If flying is your dream, then you have to follow it!"

Tommy couldn’t argue with that.

Now they didn’t see each other as often, but they were always in touch. There were nights when they both stayed up until morning, texting or talking on the phone about everything under the sun.

"Buck, you look awful... You were up all night talking to Tommy again, should I tell him to stop messing up your schedule?" Hen said, half-seriously, half-joking.

"He’s not messing anything up, I called him first!" Buck blurted out, then realized what he’d said.

They continued meeting occasionally at the bar, but it became harder to sync up due to shift changes. One day, Tommy suggested Buck come over to his place for a couple of hours so they could see each other, and Buck gladly accepted.

They kept visiting each other to watch movies or cook together. Until one day, the moment happened: Buck cuddled up to Tommy while they were watching a horror movie, and Tommy turned to him and kissed him in the dim light of the room. To Buck’s surprise, he didn’t pull away. On the contrary, he eagerly joined in.

Since that evening, not much changed between them, except that their texts became more flirtatious, their touches more frequent, and that kiss on the couch wasn’t the last, but rather the first in a series of others.

They wished each other safety before every shift, and it was always the case, but now it felt different - as though there was something more behind that wish, as if they started caring for each other more.

Buck wasn’t sure how to feel about it, but he was afraid of losing the connection that was growing between them, so he decided to keep everything between the two of them and see where it could lead.

Was it really a surprise when, not long after, they slept together for the first time in Buck’s loft? They didn’t talk about it or anything that happened between them, but Buck lay in bed in Tommy’s arms the next morning, feeling like he was exactly where he needed to be.

Maddy called him a few days later and invited him to dinner at the Buckley-Han house, and Buck enthusiastically agreed.

"Buck, I just wanted to check… if you want, you don’t have to come alone," Maddy said cautiously.

"…What do you mean?" Buck was caught off guard by her words.

"Maybe you’ll introduce us to your boyfriend?"

"Boyfriend?" Buck asked, glancing at Tommy, who was sitting across the table from him. Tommy had overheard Buck’s part of the conversation and looked at him. In his eyes, Buck saw curiosity and something more… maybe hope?

Buck ran through their relationship over the past few months in his mind, and everything in his head and heart finally fell into place.

"Yeah, you’re right." Buck smiled into the phone. "Set another place at the table because I’m bringing my boyfriend." Buck said those words and caught Tommy’s answering smile.

When he hung up, Buck leaned across the table, and warm lips met him halfway.

He wasn’t sure where this would lead, but now he knew. Now he would do it right. @bucktommyfluffebruary 💗

#bucktommyfluffebruary #bucktommy fluffebruary #bucktommy

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kings-highway · 2 days ago

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I’m kinda throwing up writing this because I’ve never done this before but I wanted to say I really really love reading your fics!! (>T~T)>❤️

I also wanted to ask: what are some of your headcannons when it comes to daichi’s home life? Personally I like to think his siblings are all wayyy younger than him, which makes him more of a third parent than an older brother. He laments the fact that he has to be the responsible reliable figure even at home, but he’d never hold it against those little rascals <3 His parents also do their best, but it’s hard splitting your attention 5 ways, and with him being so dependable, they tend to neglect him a little

Anyways, that’s all!! Hope this isn’t too weird or anything haha ;-;

Aaaaaaaa no worries no worries at all <3 I love receiving asks and I love talking about these characters so never feel bad for popping up being so kind :)

and I have a lot of headcanons for the Sawamura family! As a disclaimer, I tend to write whatever is needed for any given storyline, so dont hold me accountable in the future if I dont 100% hold to these lmao

I fully agree with his siblings being substantially younger than him. But personally I also love the idea of making Daichi an unplanned teenage pregnancy, making the parentification of him less a facet of "bad" parenting and more a result of kids who were just not ready for a baby. it also makes his very mature disposition a very nice contrast to the idea that he was a result of teenage mistakes. In this way, his younger siblings were his parents "chosen" kids, the kids they had once they were older and ready for it, and I think they were very good parents. unfortunately they were very good parents after Daichi had already grown up. in this you can push his age from his siblings anywhere from 8-15 years older than them. ((when I write, I try to maintain canon family dynamics unless it'll play a roll in the story, so I often give the age gap at 6 years for realism, because we know he has 4 siblings by 18 and you can only squeeze out so many 9 month pregnancies in so many years lmao.)

so daichi functions as a third parent by default because his parents never really saw him as part of the white-picket-fence planning process, those are the kids that came later. it doesnt mean they dont love him, but a lot of his foundational years, 0-8, were in the care of literally children. (Assuming a teenage pregnancy of like 17) And they just... Couldnt really handle raising a kid and it required him to create a lot of independence and self-soothing skills.

it also doesnt help that I think he takes pride in this. In the future, as an adult, he might have resentment towards his parents but in the timeline of him being in high school I imagine he sees his own role as a point of pride. he is being "mature" and "responsible" and "useful" and so clearly he's being a good person so he likes the roll he has in his family. he doesnt want them to treat him like a kid because kids are work and require effort and energy and cause problems and he is Better Than That. he's got a bit of a martyr complex in that way where he thinks its a good thing he acts and behaves this way.

i also believe 100% in any interpretation that his siblings absolutely, disgustingly, adore him. he might be the third parent but he's definitely their favourite parent. for all the resentment and anger that his parentification will cause in his adult years, for the inevitable divide growing between him and his parents, the emotional neglect, all of it, he is the person that his siblings will idolize as their greatest support. And even if he stops coming around as often and tries to rebuild a life that centres himself rather than other people, they will always think of him as their hero, and want to make him proud and seek his approval far more than they do their real parents.

theres like a million other little headcanons that contradict these ones - Im also especially fond (as anyone who reads my work knows) of the narrative that Daichi's absolutely a daddy's boy in his idolization of his father, and the father-son dynamic is one of my favourite to explore with him. the influence of family dynamics, bloodlines and obligations (real or imagined) is like... My #1 trope for him. i love giving him a larger than life bloodline and instead of everything I just described, making his martyr complex one born of a desperate desire to fill unreasonable large shoes left behind from whatever reason. in equal measure to the emotionally neglectful parents I love me a good "how am I supposed to live up to this?" story.

i could keep talking. im so fond of this stupid fucking man. But I will stop yapping and leave it as that. Thank you so much for the opportunity to ramble on about my main bitch 🤍🤍🤍

#haikyuu fanfiction #sawamura daichi

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starkenobi · 2 days ago

Text

Demonic Domination | chapter one: lo hecho está hecho.

masterlist — demonic domination masterlist — prologue

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reder; Bucky Barnes x Reader; Matt Murdock x Reader.

Summary: Y/N doesn’t classify herself as a vigilante or, as people on the internet say, an antihero. No, she’s just an occult detective with a fucking amnesia trying to create a new life beyond her secret mutant status. At first, she really tried to keep a normal civilian life, but it’s difficult when you’re rescued from a dark place by a man dressed as a mummy ninja calling himself Moon Knight. So, anyway, working as an occult detective makes her travel around the world, and it’s cool because it gives her a lot of stories… Until her feet touch New York grounds. It’s all downhill from there.

chapter warnings: none.

When Konshu announced that there was an important mission, Jake thought it would be another gang or a terrorist group, perhaps a theft of objects that humans shouldn't be playing with or even trafficking and clandestine sale of some artefact.

He expected everything except to find a house full of scientific paraphernalia and a girl locked in a dark room. A weapon in the wrong hands, Konshu said harshly, but Jake only saw a girl who had her life stolen and tortured.

A victim.

"Hey, I'm Moon Knight, I'll get you out of here, okay? Kid, can you hear me? Dammit, Steve, I can see she's unresponsive."

The young woman was covered in blood from head to toe, dried blood with clear signs of torture. It didn't take long to remove the iron chains that held her to the ceiling, but it took some work to get her out of the anklets, the shine and quality of the material indicating a high technology.

But nothing could be that simple with his missions. So, Jake felt several punctures in his abdomen and arms as soon as she was freed from the restraints. Red blades hit him with precision. Luckily, he was wearing the suit.

"Shit. She has powers. Couldn't you have warned us, Konshu?"

With no answers from the Egyptian god, with Steve talking too much in their headspace and Marc starting to get worried, Jake needed to act quickly before the situation really got out of control.

He tried to talk to the young woman once more, maybe calm her down with words before taking drastic measures. Maybe Steve could be right once again.

"We're here to help. You're safe now."

But when another red blade came out of the young woman and tried to hit him in the head, Jake knew there was no other option.

He muttered a somber "I'm sorry, kid." before knocking the young woman out in the head.

Sighing heavily, Jake picked her up and left that bizarre place. The night that had once been lit by the moon was now raining heavily, a clear sign of a sudden storm. Jake tried to ignore the strange feeling in his chest, but the news had confirmed that there’d be a week off of dry spell.

“What are we going to do now?” Steve asked in their headspace.

“I’ll put her in the taxi and take her home.” Jake declared.

“Home?” Marc repeated incredulously. “She needs a hospital and the police. We did our part.”

“Lo hecho está hecho.” Jake replied, putting an end to the discussion before it began. “We’re going to adopt the stray while we don’t have answers, pendejo.”

—

Nothing like one day after another. A routine. No big news, the big gossip revolving around who ate whose sandwich that was in the office fridge or that the dog peed on someone’s shoe again.

From Monday to Friday there was no possibility of anything unexpected happening. Everything was safe. Full of rules. Monotonous to the extreme. A 9am to 4pm job, with about an hour for lunch, and the possibility of several trips to get a coffee.

Without the risk of dealing with angry customers since that was the most isolated part of the department. The actual activity was spent the whole day holed up in an office making calls, writing and reviewing paperwork before the deadline. While it’s good that the amount of paper's decreasing, thanks to technology, spending hours on a computer tired her eyes.

Anyway, was it possible to die from being exhausted from the same old thing? Sure, tired from so much work and the same old thing.

She was tempted to shout 'fire' and risk the work safety rules just to get some reaction on that fateful friday. It was at times like that that she, unfortunately, had to agree with Marc. Taking that job was a terrible idea.

Okay, she was making money fast, but at what cost?

However, she couldn't take other people's opinions into consideration, since Marc didn't know anything about the adult life of a mere mortal. Steven, fine, worked at the museum. Jake, maybe, he played cab driver sometimes. But Marc? Good heavens, Marc lived in a reality where his so-called weekly job was to be the fist of a naked bird!

“Necromancer, you can't keep avoiding your destiny.”

“Shit.” Y/N hissed under her breath as she spilled some of her coffee on the office desk, luckily not getting any paper dirty. “I'm bored, but it's not that deep.”

Frowning, she controlled herself from turning in the direction of the voice. It's best to pretend she didn't know it was there so it would go away quickly.

She then glanced discreetly at the computer screen, finding a slightly disfigured lady standing right behind her chair, hovering a few inches off the floor.

Sighing heavily, Y/N finished cleaning up the spilled coffee before drinking the liquid from the mug again. The visits were becoming more frequent, perhaps it was time to change jobs once again.

“Necromancer.”

“Fuck.” Y/N cursed impatiently.

Ignoring the looks from her coworkers, she got up in a hurry, walking to the kitchen in long strides. Pouring the rest of the coffee into the sink, she washed the mug giving up on caffeine.

Knowing that there would be no point in staying there working overtime, she went back to her desk to turn off her computer and grab her bag. She said goodbye to the group still in the office, quickly heading towards the emergency staircase. Going down the five flights of stairs with ease, it didn't take long to reach the small lobby.

She kept her pace fast until she passed through the door, stopping only after she reached the corner of the street to debate if it was better to go home walking or running.

“Necromancer, there’s no point in avoiding your fate.”

“Stop trying to collect a debt that doesn’t belong to me!” Y/N hissed, finally facing the spirit that was still following her.

“Do you really not remember, necromancer?”

She frowned, finding the question confusing. The spirits' behavior was becoming increasingly odd, and she wasn't sure how to feel about it. Before she could retort, the spirit disappeared in a blur at the same time she heard footsteps behind her.

“What are you doing standing here alone, bug?”

Turning around, she came face to face with Steven. “Huh, was trying to remember if I left the charger at the office before I went home for good.”

“If you say so,” Steven arched a brow, offering to hold her bag.

“What are you doing here, by the way?” Y/N asked, holding one of his arms before starting to walk again. “Came to make sure that I’m crossing the street safely?”

“Why do you make me feel like a senior father?” Steven lamented, allowing to be pulled by her in the direction of their apartment.

“Cause you guys decided to bring the ‘three men and a baby’ with a twist to real life?” She fired back, a smug smile on her face.

Steven flashed her a huge smile back. “Marc's saying that Jake's a terrible influence on you.”

“He's just saying that because I called him daddy in front of Layla.”

“What?”

“Oh, you didn't know?” Y/N smirked, knowing full well that Marc was still embarrassed. “Saw him trying to dismiss a woman at the door, so I called him daddy to make her uncomfortable and leave. But lo and behold, it was actually Layla.”

“Oh, that's hilarious.” Steven wheezed from how hard he's laughing.

“C'mon, less laughing and more walking.” She sassed him. “Wanna finish our Star Wars marathon this weekend.”

—

Do you really not remember?

Do you remember?

Open your eyes.

Remember.

Remem-

Y/N woke up with a start.

Trying to catch her breath, she noticed the sun had disappeared and the moon shone brightly in the sky. Shit. She fell asleep without planning to.

“My love.”

Y/N’s mind stuttered to a halt, before launching into motion as she quickly turned towards the female’s voice. “Fuck!”

“Eloquent as always, I see,” the woman said.

“Who the fuck are you?” Y/N hissed, grabbing the first thing within reach – her umbrella.

The woman raised her hands, a melancholic smile on her slips. “I was hoping my messengers were wrong, but it really seems you've forgotten.”

“I won't ask you again,” she growled.

“I have many names, some call me Rio.” the woman answered, her voice sweet as honey. “But you, my love, you know me as Death.”

“What?”

“I'm sorry, my love, I know now that you don't have your memories,” the woman, Death, smiled sweetly as she stepped closer. “But we have things to discuss now that you're free.”

Stood frozen, Y/N utterly stunned. “What?”

Death chuckled, snapping her fingers to make the umbrella disappear so she could hold Y/N's hands. “You've made an oath, my love, a long time ago.”

And I came to collect it.

Demonic Domination officially started! You'll notice some references from the mcu and the comics, I'm cooking something here and I really hope you guys like it! The first chapter is the last bit of introduction. So buckle up! From now on, we're going to start the real deal: following around the occultist detective and her harem Y/N Constantine and the gang.

comments, reblogs and likes are welcomed and appreciated! thank you for reading and supporting my writing 💜

follow the tag #demonicdomination to keep up with all updates and posts!

#demonic domination #natasha romanoff x reader #bucky barnes x reader #matt murdock x reader #black widow x reader #winter soldier x reader #daredevil x reader #constantine reader #y/n constantine #marvel fanfic #mcu fic #marvel fic #starkenobi writing #demonicdomination

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