#like first my childhood home and then the trailer

[arcane-ish]

I mean, why would getting beaten for years make her kinder?

I have a kinder view on her, but my verdict after S2 Act 1 was also that Vi has no connection to Zaun.

My head canon is that she was far away from Zaun for a long time and after she emerged it was completely changed. Zaun was the idealistic warm place of her childhood to her and when she came back she found it "poisoned" by Silco. She doesn't feel at home there anymore. Maybe she blames it for "ruining" Powder.

The frustrating part being, okay, even if Vi is the kind of person who dislikes and looks down on the dirty immoral parts of Zaun (rather than seeing that as a result of their oppression or seeing beauty and potential in the depravity there), she has been to Ekko's tree. She has seen the nice/happy/friendly parts of Zaun. Shouldn't she feel at least protective of those?

My take is that the approach of the writer is that Vi has a more general sense of morals. She protects people who get attacked, whether it is a Piltover Elite or the little Zaunite girl. She has indeed neither class conciousness nor hard loyalty (in season 1 her goal was to bring down Silco and she had no problem teaming up with Piltover to achieve that goal via the chem factory raid, she didn't even think of rallying Zaunites against Silco, she went for what was easiest and the biggest stick)

And I don't see how that is that much of stretch. If Vi is not a big thinker, why should she have class conciousness? Having just pariotic loyalty to a place without class conciousness or larger historic context is something that still works for a "not a big thinker" person, but I could easily picture the writers seeing Vi a decidedly not that. There are plenty of scenarios where unthining patriotism isn't a good thing, so the writers might actually see that a creative wrinkle that Vi is more of a universalist who doesn't distinguish anymore where people are from. (and yes, maybe people who get treated with prejudice react by locking deeper into that identity, but it is not that out of the ordinary that they could also react with "it shouldn't matter at all where people come from")

IMO Vi emerged from prison and felt like she didn't have a home anymore because her second family was dead and everything she knew looks different. And yes, Vi's first family was killed by Pilties but her second family died becuase of an inner Zaunite struggle. So is it really that out of the ordinary that she might have mixed feelings about Zaun?

The way I read it Vi at this moment doesn't particularly like Zaun and she's feeling her way around. She feels like she doesn't belong there, doesn't fit in there and so she's trying to feel her way around if she can fit into Piltover (especially if Caitlyn is luring her in with "actually we are trying to reduce harm to Zaun, it's moral of you to join, because you are actually trying to make things easier").

Act 1 ends with Cait and by extension Piltover rejecting her. And based on the trailers it looks like Vi is going to dive deep into self hate and with that deep into the most violent parts of Zaun. Which to me suggest that this reflects that she has a low opinion of Zaun, that this is where she goes when she's at her lowest and self-hatiest.

Again in a world where even if she doesn't fuck with the darker seedier parts of Zaun and has no motivation to let's say be another Silco or Vander to try to slap down the chem barons, sort of pacify Zaun or even rally it. ... she could have just joined up with Ekko and tried to to just do nice things and help orphans.

But it seems likely that that's not how she's going to react. She could take her rejection from Cait and Piltover and react with rage "I tried to work with them, but they are actually monsters, let's fight them". Or she could have shut down, gone to the pretty place of Ekko's there and try to recoup there (maybe she's self-haty and scared that they would reject her for the things she's done?) and find herself by trying to do small nice things for people. But it seems like she reacts with self-hate because she's a pretty splintered broken person herself who is highly unsure about her place in the world.

But yes, Vi has zero class consciouness because she just doesn't think like that is just correct description of her character. That's just how she is. She's a mostly one track universalist.

I just don't think it makes sense that we impose what her trauma response should be (ie she should retch at every badge she sees) just because that's what we would like to see and we feel that this should be the "most logical" thing. People have all kinds of different trauma reactions.

And Vi has been on the receiving end of bad actions of Zaunites and if you put into the equation that she just genuinely doesn't have a class conciousness/doesn't think of things on that level, why shouldn't she have aversion and trauma reactions to Zaunites as well? She disliked Pilties and enforers because they enacted violence on her, but she also had violent run ins with Zaunites. That street kids brawl after the heist in season 1 was against Zaunites, she was there for the murder of Benzo, Silco to her knowledge killed Vander, she fought Sevika (and I still think she blames Zaun for "ruining Powder"). Maybe she even holds it against Zaun that the followed Silco (though even if she unreasonably idolizes Vander, shouldn't she at least see that Ekko's people uphold the memory of Vander? I wonder if Vi knows that the Vander statue exists).

In short, it's going to be interesting how her relationship with Zaun will evolve. If she will gain a more nuanced view on it or not. I can see a world where she finds out more about Vander's regrets and sees more nuance is necessary, I wonder if she will interact with the Viktor people and what her take on that will be. I wonder if she will find comfort and familarity in the fighting pits or if it will just be her self hatred and ultimately Cait "saving her" from the pits (whether actually retrieving her and luring her out with more tasks up in Pilotver).

I don't buy that Cait is that keen on the Noxians, so I could picture her asking Vi for help again soon.

Or maybe she'll team up with people to for example hunt the new monster Warwick. It's gonna be interesting if Vi finds her new community in Zaun in some way (ie teaming up with somebody to hunt Warwick, or fight Viktor, or rally people against the Noxians or reconnecting with Ekko after all). Or if she has trouble connecting with people and Cait and enforcers will remain the only thing that ever gets offered to her (after all she spelled out to Cait that she feels like she has nothing).

We know the story is highly slanted towards Vi ending up with Cait and probably even as an enforcer. The question is whether it will be with her getting a nuanced view on Zaun and trying to walk between the world, seeing both sides and negotiate between them (ie by keeping a positive relationship with Ekko or making new friends in the pit adventure) or whether the rift between Vi and Zaun will stay there (maybe they hate her for working with enforcers, maybe she is at odds with them again if she ends up trying to protect Warwick from them).

Having digested the first 3 episodes of Arcane 2, I'm ready to say something bold and brave, and I hope I don't get too much hate for it.

Vi is just not a nice person.

In season 1, I feel like I was maybe unfair to the writers by saying that "rushing the romance with an enforcer/1% like Cait" was "flattening" Vi's character. That it was bending her out of shape.

How could a Zaunite as maltreated as Vi so easily turn to someone like Cait?

I was told by shippers it's because Cait is the first to show her kindness in a long time, and I still think that's hogwash. She is fresh out of mega hell prison where enforcers beat her so often they lost track of it. I don't believe any amount of kindness could make you fall for an enforcer within 48h in this context. Not realistically.

But now?

Vi hears Cait dehumanizing Zaunites and doesn't fight back. It takes a few compliments to make her accept an enforcer badge. She's running around gasing the people of the Lanes, making excuses for it, while looking fresh out of a WWII horror movie in that gas mask.

And when the gas mask is off, she's wearing Claggor's goggles... Like, yeesh.

She's clearly blinded by Cait. And that's fine! I used to think it was the flaw of the writers trying to hurry a Caitvi ship along. Now I gotta admit, it looks like Vi just doesn't have strong morals.

She hates enforcers but she'll join them easily. Her wanna-be gf says we use toxic gas that has horrible side effects [cut to horror medical slides] and she says "yeah, it's for the good of the people, sure".

She sees Jinx and accuses her of killing Powder, and says she's tired of making excuses for her.

To WHO, Vi? We don't have you on screen apologizing to anyone for Jinx's actions. I'm sure things were said to Caitlyn, but like, yeesh.

She accuses Jinx of orphaning kids, WHILE WEARING AN ENFORCER UNIFORM, the same worn by the people who orphaned HER.

I give up. The writers knew what they were doing.

A flawed woman who wasn't made a better or more moral one by all the suffering she endured in Stillwater.

Vi is cool, but she's not super loyal, is a bit of a meathead, doesn't have her priorities in orders, leads with her fists and caves easily to her emotions. She's horny for Cait and not very interested in the fate of her community.

Being locked up and beaten didn't make her smarter or kinder. It just made her a better fighter.

It's kind of my bad for assuming that Vi "should be better", logically. If she's written as a human, then she should be flawed and yeah, I guess she fucking is lol

I'm curious to see if she develops some... class consciousness, or some patriotism of some sort, when everyone realises the Noxian offers of protection are a yoke. I'm a lot more curious seeing where she ends now that I've accepted she's cool while also kinda shitty. It's nice that it goes along Cait's spiral into villainy.

[oetscop]

nothing is set in stone yet but my grandparents are willing to like. rent their house out to us. so they can move back down south. i wont have to leave boo in the yard i wont lose the one place that stayed consistent for my whole life

god i hope this works out

[dreamsteddie]

Steve and Eddie childhood friends is my kryptonite.

They meet in the woods outside Steve's house when they're eight and nine years old. Steve is out exploring because his parents are fighting again, something about a secretary and a jazzercize instructor that Steve really doesn't understand or want to listen to. He's done it before, venturing outside to explore the forest like it's his own private world. They never notice when they're fighting like that anyway and Steve always finds his way back.

Eddie, on the other hand, is new to Hawkins. He's nine years old and was just dumped on his uncle's front porch because his dad "doesn't need some brat who cries when the wires spark." Eddie was heartbroken and mad and scared and he loved his uncle Wayne but he didn't want to be comforted so he ran into the woods, Wayne too slow to catch him but calling his name.

After running a while Eddie trips on a root falling on his hands and knees, blood slowly blooming from his palms. He looks up and realizes he has no idea which way he came from or how to get back and releases all the tears he kept locked up tight since that night with the car.

That's how Steve finds him. He makes his way over, calling softly to the boy crouched by his favorite tree. The boy looks up, and the first thing Steve thinks is that he looks a little funny. His head is shaved down and his eyes are a little buggy and he's lanky in a way Steve's never really seen before. His second thought is that he always keeps bandaids in his shorts.

Together they sloppily patch up Eddie's knee and left palm, Steve pressing a smacking kiss to the other boy's knee like he's seen the other moms do for their kids at the park. They introduce themselves and Steve takes him to all his favorite places in the woods. They play knight and dragon and talk about how mean dads are until the sun starts to set.

Eddie gets nervous when the sun starts to set, not used to the unique darkness of the woods, but Steve is used to it. He takes Eddie by the hand and asks him where he entered and guides him home. Wayne finds them like that, he's clearly been doing his own forest wanderings in his search for Eddie and is quick to sweep his nephew into his arms and hold him close. Edde excitedly introduces his uncle to his "new best friend, Steve," his mood lifted significantly since that morning.

Steve waves goodbye and slips away before Wayne can insist on taking him home in the truck, but that's far from the last they see of Steve. After that night, every time Steve's parents get in a fight or his parents go to one of their long, important business dinners without him he makes his way through the woods and to the Munson trailer. The first time it happens Wayne doesn't even know what to say. Steve looks every bit the little Harrington that he is with his little Khakis and perfectly pressed polo knocking on the trailer door all proper-like.

"Hello, I'm here to see Eddie. He's my best friend."

Before Wayne can figure out what to say there's a blur of oversized black hand-me-down clothes barrelling through the door and tackling the younger boy to the ground.

"STEVE!" Eddie absolutely screeches. Wayne is half worried he might take out one of the kid's eardrums, but seeing the wide smile Eddie has plastered on his face, Wayne decides not to say anything.

From there on Steve and Eddie are thick as thieves. Steve spends all his free time at the Munson trailer playing with Eddie and the stray animals. Despite some of Wayne's concerns, their friendship remains strong through the years. With Eddie in the grade above and the grades almost completely separated, they hardly get to interact at school, which only serves to fuel Eddie's disdain and Steve's disinterest in school. Middle school is much the same. They spend almost every waking moment together in the woods or in the trailer but live almost separate lives at school. It's not even that they're trying to hide it, it just never comes up.

When Steve starts climbing up the social ladder it isn't intentional at all. He doesn't have a lot of friends in his grade, certainly not any that come close to Eddie's status in his life, so he kind of just talks to everybody. He plays on the middle school basketball and baseball teams and does well, and before he knows it people are suddenly flocking around him and vying for his attention. He doesn't pay it much mind honestly.

Eddie on the other hand never fits in anywhere. Steve and Wayne are just about the only people in his life he cares about, and despite their overwhelming love and acceptance he can't help but turn out cynical. He struggles with anger management those first few years with Wayne, frustrated with being abandoned by his dad and separated from Steve and it all culminates in him being ostracized from his peers.

It isn't until high school that the rest of Hawkins clues into what's been in front of their faces the entire time. The high school is much less separated so while they won't be sharing any classes, there are many more opportunities for them to hang out.

On day one of Steve's freshman year he's already on the roster for both the basketball team and the swim team and there's already a small group of boys hanging around his locker ready to ride his coattails. They notice Steve seems distracted, turning his head back and forth when he's not struggling to get the lock undone. When he finally manages to wrestle the thing open, Eddie makes his move.

In a move reminiscent of that first day on Wayne's front porch, a blur of black second-hand clothes and dark curls barrels into Steve from the side taking him down to the linoleum floors. The guys around Steve's locker are ready to step in and beat this guy to a pulp until they hear raucous laughter coming from the both of them. They are treated to the sight of rising King Steve and established Freak Munson rolling around on the floor like unruly puppies and don't know what to do with themselves.

When the boys calm down and stand up, arms slung comfortably around each other's shoulders, they're met with the very confused faces of Steve's kind-of-friends.

"You know this guy Steve?"

"You and Munson are friends?"

"What the fuck was that?"

Steve and Eddie share a very confused look, neither of them having realized that people have no idea they're friends. They look back at the guys with two devastating "are you dumb" faces and say:

"Uh, yeah, Duh."

--------

Years down the line, after queer awakenings, a healthy dose of heartache for them both, and a properly dramatic star-lit confession Eddie and Steve both absolutely love regaling anyone who will listen with their love story. Steve insists that he knew from the moment Eddie looked at him with those big bug eyes that he would love Eddie Munson for the rest of his life. Eddie, on the other hand, insists that's bullshit and instead insists that he was the one who fell first "it doesn't count if you were a child Sevie you didn't understand what love was!" that day in the hall when he realized how tall and handsome his best friends had become when they got up off the floor.

Either way, they both eat up the looks people give them as they share their tales of pining, self-discovery, and true love.

[jenchan-writingmultis]

Sylus SFW/NSFW Headcanon/s

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

A/n: I genuinely couldn’t resist. I’m sorry.  This is also my first time writing headcanons that are NSFW! I hope you like it! And I based Sylus on that anonymous man that Rafayel was talking to, while it’s definitely inaccurate, I didn’t know where to base him from aside from the leaked trailer, I hope you like this one!

Masterlist

Pairing: Sylus x AFAB Reader

Warning: NSFW Up ahead! This is for 18+ readers. Stockholm Syndrome, TOXIC! Obsessive love, unhealthy relationship. Degradation

Tell me if I left a warning out, I’ll update this immediately.

Credits: The line dividers are from Kaomoji; the art is from Love and Deepspace ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

SFW: ✧ He’s the kind of person who won't hold back. After you were handed to him like a free meal, he decided that whatever you discussed with Xavier and Rafayel would fail, and he’d ensure it. Even if the plan was to infiltrate Onychinus, he would absolutely make sure it failed.

✧ When Rafayel handed you over to him, he was so elated that he ordered his men to take you to his home as soon as you were drugged, where you’ll be kept trapped. Unlike the other male leads, he isn't upfront but rather lurks in the shadows, stalking your every move.

✧ Even though he acknowledges your capability and doesn’t see you as a weakling, he will ensure you remain completely obedient to him. If you try to escape, he will isolate you further, providing only food and water to keep you alive. In his view, isolation is the most effective method of punishment, especially if it means breaking your spirit to force your obedience.

✧ He despises you. He hates how you make him feel like he's dependent on your presence, while you, on the other hand, don’t even know him, to himself, you were his whole world. Sylus won’t tell you how easy it is for you to have him under your thumb.

✧ You may hate him for your own reasons, and he can see it in your eyes. Yes, he might have been responsible for the explosion that took your childhood friend and grandmother, but it wasn’t entirely intentional. He didn’t expect you to come home so early that day; it was a miscalculation on his part.  He won’t tell you that though, he likes seeing you so focused on him with an emotion you would never feel for the other men in your life. The hatred fuels him.

✧ Now while he’s lenient with you growling and squirming like a mutt, if you try to bite and hurt him back, he’s going to make sure to put a collar around your neck, you’re being a bad pet. He’ll make sure that you drop that disobedience before he’s forced to make it leak out of you instead.

✧ If you start to relax, or simply get tired of trying to escape, he will reward you by letting you go out with him. However, if you try to speak or ask for help, the collar around your neck will inject you with drugs that will turn your brain to mush, ensuring you won’t betray him in public. Not that anyone would dare to save you; he’s confident a few people recognize him.

✧ Oh, don’t take him as someone reckless though, he takes extra measures to prevent you from acting out. Once he implements those safety measures, he’ll be happy to buy you outfits that fit his aesthetic, or anything you’d like really. Sometimes he’ll be nice to you, only sometimes.

✧ I think it’s obvious how he shows his hatred and love for you in these headcanons, he’s going to make sure to tear down that confidence you have, he’ll break you. One of his methods would be to have you be eaten by guilt till you start blaming yourself instead of him. He’s good with his words, he wouldn’t be gaining such loyal followers without it. ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

NSFW:

✧ BRAT TAMER TO THE FULLEST, he wouldn’t let you act out at all, if you tried, he’s gonna have you bent over the wall while he smacks your ass, making sure his handprint stays marked there. Till you can’t sit down comfortably, actually he won’t even let you test if you can sit down properly,  cause he’ll have you sitting on his lap, it can be during a meeting with his trusted companions, imagine a console table with almost 10 people along with him in front, while people are discussing their plans, you can’t even hear it properly cause of how deep his fingers are pumping in and out, his thumb pressing on your clit. If you let out a yelp he'd chuckle before nipping on your ear.

“Quiet, you’re distracting them” he’d murmur while squeezing your waist as a warning.

✧ While he gives off a vibe of being a dominant top if you want to ride him, he’ll let you, however with the condition that you make him cum before you do, which fails! Cause he has a pretty good endurance, you poor girl. Once he wins, he’ll flip you down, pinning your arms up while spreading your legs further, hand pressing on your soft tummy.

“Can’t even ride properly huh? You want me to do all the work pretty girl?"

✧ HATE SEX is one of his favorites, once you get the privilege to go out, if he ever sees you try to speak to another man aside from the bodyguards, he sent to watch over you while he’s busy, he’s going to use that as a reason to leave multiple marks on your body, specifically your neck. You can’t even hide it, along with the bite marks on your thighs. Oh right, not like anyone can see it, you’re forbidden from going out till he milks you of every orgasm he can pull out of you for the next few days.

✧ The type to finger you while you’re in public, if you’re wearing something short, like a skirt, he’ll lift it up, sliding his hand underneath your panty before fingering you. Make sure you don't make too much noise now, or people will notice, slut.

✧ He’s messy, the type to eat you out like a man starved, watch him suck on your clit while he pushes his fingers on your sweet spot, he had his arms wrapped around your thighs just so you don’t try to run away from his skillful tongue, the type of man to make you squirt and once he does he gets drunks over your taste, pulling away a bit just to look at you,

“One more, I know you can take it” he’d say before giving your puffy clit a kiss."

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

A family thing

Written for the September pop-up challenge of the @steddieholidaydrabbles blog

Prompt: Anniversary

Rated: T

Tags: Post-Vecna; Everybody lives; Recovery; Disabled Eddie; POV Wayne Munson; Good uncle Wayne Munson; Implied sexual content; Domestic fluff; Found family

The sounds coming from the kitchen pull Wayne from his sleep much earlier than he'd like after a night shift. He lies awake for a while, cursing the government. Sure, they covered Eddie’s medical bills and bought them the new trailer, but would it have killed them to get one with thicker walls? He doesn't need to hear everything the boy gets up to. 

He's almost managed to drift off again when a clatter and a string of swear words make him shoot upright. He barrels out into the corridor that separates the living space from the bedrooms, almost colliding with Steve, who has just barged from Eddie’s room. His eyes are bleary, his hair a tousled mess. He's wearing boxers and a familiar guitar pick necklace, and that is it. 

“Ed?” Wayne asks, ignoring how Steve freezes at the sight of him. “What happened?” 

Eddie, on the kitchen floor in a heap of gangly limbs and fallen crutches, groans. “Wayne! You weren't supposed to wake up.” 

“Yeah, you're making that kinda hard,” Wayne mumbles, eyeing the shattered plates and spilled food on the ground. Toast and bacon and pancakes. There's something stuck in Eddie’s hair that looks like scrambled eggs. 

“What the hell?” Steve mutters, bridging the few steps into the kitchen and dropping into a crouch beside Eddie. Wayne stays where he is and watches. The way Steve wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist to pull him up, careful not to hurt him. How Eddie slings bony arms over Steve’s shoulders, fingers grazing the scars on the boy's back. 

“Why didn't you ask me for help?” Steve asks. The rising sun basks the kitchen in oranges and golds, and for a second, Wayne is overcome by the thought that he mustn't blink, or they'll vanish. “I could've-” 

“What, on this highest of holidays?” Eddie asks, gesturing dramatically as Steve lowers him into one of the kitchen chairs. “Have you no respect for tradition? It is my responsibility and my duty to do this alone.” 

Steve blinks, then looks over at Wayne. 

“Okay? I don't get it.” 

Eddie cackles, gently pushing him aside to beckon Wayne closer. 

“Happy Uncle's Day!” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Wayne grumbles, bending at the hip so that Eddie can hug him, but there's an annoying sting behind his eyes. For a moment all he can think is how close he came to losing all of this.

“What the fuck is Uncle's Day?” Steve asks. He's eyeing the calendar on the wall like he's expecting it to spout an extra holiday. 

Eddie scoffs. “Only the most important holiday of the year? You need to stay up to date on-” 

“When Ed was nine years old,” Wayne explains, making his way over to the coffee pot, “he came home one day, seething and spitting venom, ‘cause his teacher had them making Father's Day cards.” 

“Why would I be making that asshole a fucking card?” Eddie grumbles. A pink blush has erupted from the collar of his shirt, but Wayne isn’t sure if it's because of the childhood story or because of the way Steve has pulled out the chair next to his and is finger-combing bits of egg from his curls. “The only thing I should've given him is a kick in-” 

“That's exactly what he said back then,” Wayne says, pouring himself a cup and leaning against the counter. “So we came up with an idea.” 

Steve frowns at Eddie. “Uncle's Day?” 

Eddie beams. “The anniversary of the day Wayne took me in.”

“Dunno if took in is the right term,” Wayne hums around his first sip. “You pretty much let yourself in and refused to leave.” 

Eddie waves him off, as if to say that he won’t argue about the technicalities. Steve’s eyes, meanwhile, have grown large. 

“Wait,” he says. “That's today? Why didn’t- … I’m sorry, I had no idea.” 

Eddie cocks his head at him, smile bright and incredibly fond. It makes a familiar warmth spread behind Wayne’s collarbone, one that has nothing at all to do with the coffee. “Why would you be sorry?” 

Steve gestures awkwardly at the mess that is the kitchen. “This is a family thing. If you’d told me, I’d have left you alone.” 

Eddie laughs. On the tabletop, his fingers find Steve’s. 

“Exactly,” he says. “This is a family thing. You're right where you belong. Ain't he, Wayne?” 

Wayne regards them - two men littered in battle scars, leaning into each other in the hazy morning light - and thinks of a hurt little boy who was too scared to let anyone in. 

“Can't argue with that,” he says. 

Steve's face lights up as if he'd just invited him to spend Christmas morning. 

“I- … thank you,” he stutters, and Wayne gets a feeling that he, too, is still learning to let people in. “Let me clean this up, and then I'll make us new-” 

“Stevie,” Eddie says, and hooks one finger into the necklace to pull him back. His next words are a murmur against the shell of Steve's ear, so low Wayne almost misses them. “Maybe get dressed first, darling.” 

The last thing Wayne sees of Steve as he flees into Eddie’s room is the blush coloring his neck and shoulders. 

“Do you have to tease him like that?” he asks, starting to gather the broken plates off the ground. 

Eddie shrugs. “He can take it. I think that's a basic requirement for joining this family?”  

His eyes find Wayne's, searching for a reaction. 

“Ed,” he says, picking up the crutches and handing them over. “My only requirement ever was for you to be happy. I think your boy has long proven himself in that regard. Now, run over to the Mayfields and ask if we can borrow some eggs, yeah?” 

As Eddie bolts out with a blush matching Steve's, Wayne settles into the newly vacated chair, allowing himself a long sip of coffee and a content sigh. 

It's gonna be a good Uncle's Day. 

[greengoblinswifey]

Shattered— Nicholas Chavez x Actress!Reader

summary— you’re an actress on the brink of fame and you fall for your co-star Nicholas Chavez. discovering his secret coupled with your unexpected pregnancy changes your entire dynamic.

warnings— cheating, mentions of infertility, mature language, grief and loss, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of unprotected sex, abortion, manipulation.

a/n— kinda long but i’m a slut for angst, also this is all just my imagination and fantasy, it’s not based on nicholas irl <3

Alternative Ending

From the very first time you got an acting role, your manager told you, never engage in relations with your co stars. Looking down at the two positive pregnancy tests on the counter, you wished you had taken heed to her wise words.

You and Nicholas had been thrown into the spotlight together, both relatively new to the fame game. As co-stars, you’d developed a chemistry that felt electric, especially during your lovey-dovey scenes on camera.

As the filming progressed, those on-screen moments started to seep into your off-screen life. You’d find yourselves stealing kisses between takes, getting lost in long conversations about everything from your childhood dreams to your favorite late-night snacks. It was easy to forget that this was just work. You felt like you knew each other inside out.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you were in your trailer, and the laughter just flowed. “I really like this,” Nicholas said, leaning closer, his eyes locked onto yours. “It feels special, you know?”

You nodded, heart racing. “Yeah, it does. I’m just scared of what happens after this season wraps. Will we still have this?”

Nick brushed a thumb across your cheek, his gaze intense. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise I’ll always be here.”

You couldn’t help it; you leaned in and kissed him, the connection between you two crackling like electricity. Everything felt perfect in that moment, but in the back of your mind, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

What were you missing? Why did he keep his life back home so close to his chest?

As your days turned into nights filled with mind blowing sex, you tried to enjoy every second, but the nagging doubt wouldn’t disappear. You were falling for him, and you wondered if he felt the same way, or if this was just a fun distraction for him.

As filming continued, he made sure to keep the relationship casual, reassuring you that it was all good between you two. “You know I care about you, right?” he’d say between takes, pulling you close, his lips pressing against your forehead, “But a public relationship? It might restrict me from getting certain roles.” You nodded, wanting to be supportive. After all, you understood the pressure of the industry. But deep down, a nagging thought lingered, was there more to it than that?

Still, you brushed off your doubts. You were wrapped up in the excitement of your new life, enjoying every moment of intimacy with Nicholas, nights spent tangled in sheets, whispering sweet nothings, and experiencing a side of Hollywood that felt like a dream. There were moments when he’d use condoms, and others when he’d pull out, but you never worried about getting pregnant. You knew you were infertile, and that fact brought you a strange sense of comfort.

During one of your casual conversations, you mentioned your part-time passion for photography. Nick lit up at the idea, and you quickly arranged for him to meet a photographer friend of yours who worked for magazines. “I’ll be sure to use them,” he said, his tone light. You didn’t think much of it, just a favor for a friend.

Then came the twist, Nick’s character was off the show for a few episodes. He returned to his hometown, and suddenly, the set felt empty without him. You missed him deeply, especially because you’d been feeling under the weather lately. The sickness hung over you, but you knew he needed a break so you didn’t bother him in staying.

As the days went by, his texts became infrequent. You found yourself wondering if something was wrong. Maybe he was just busy? Maybe he was having fun back home? And then, you noticed your period was late. You weren’t scared per se, you remembered the infertility diagnosis, but something felt off.

In a moment of playful distraction, you called your sister. “I’m late,” you joked, half-laughing. “Maybe I should take a pregnancy test?” She encouraged you, laughter spilling over the phone, making it feel lighthearted.

You picked up two tests from the store, ensuring they weren’t expired. When you took the tests, you expected nothing. But to your shock, both tests came back positive.

The laughter faded, replaced by disbelief. You dropped the phone, feeling a wave of panic crash over you. Pregnant? How could this happen? You were still so new in your career, and Nicholas. How would you even tell him? Would he be happy? He had dreams to chase, and now there was a little life to consider.

Your mind raced with possibilities and worries. You knew you needed to talk to Nicholas but the fear of how he’d react was large. You’d built something beautiful, but this was a twist neither of you had planned.

The days dragged on as you tried to process everything. You took a few days to cool off, completely unsure how to proceed. The set was chaotic, your mind was racing while you were trying to act normal. Multiple takes of one scene felt like torture, especially when you had to run off to throw up in between. The directors were patient, but you could sense their frustration growing. You felt guilty, this pregnancy wasn’t their fault, and yet you were struggling to keep it together.

Just two days before Nicholas was set to return, the chaos hit a new level. You received a message from the photographer you had linked Nicholas with. “Check out how cute your co-star looks with his girlfriend!” it read, accompanied by a series of images. You froze as you opened the photos. There he was, Nicholas, beaming in a pregnancy announcement photoshoot with a woman. A woman who was his girlfriend.

Shock coursed through you as confusion and anger collided. Your heart sank, it felt like a punch to the gut. You hadn’t taken any photos with Nicholas, and now you realized why he had been so secretive about his life outside of filming. He was expecting a baby with her. You wanted to scream, shout, break things, or blow up his phone. But instead, you just sat there, staring blankly at the screen, tears streaming down your face.

You ran to the trailer bathroom, clutching your stomach as nausea washed over you. You felt it to your core, the reality of your situation was devastating. He had been playing you both, living a lie, and now here you were, grappling with the knowledge that your pregnancy was based on deception.

Days passed like a blur. You did your best to get through filming, but every time you returned to your trailer, the reality of the life growing inside you became unbearable. You would throw up and clutch your stomach, feeling the weight of what was supposed to be a beautiful moment turned sour by lies.

Finally, the day arrived when Nicholas returned to set. He burst into your trailer, the energy in the room instantly shifting. “I missed you!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around you and planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. But you just sat there, staring blankly at him, the pregnancy tests in hand, proof of the life you were now burdened with.

He pulled back, looking at you with concern. “What’s wrong?”

The words caught in your throat. You were ready to confront him, ready to expose the web of lies. But all you could manage was a shaky breath, your heart racing in your chest as you prepared for the storm ahead.

With shaky hands, you thrust the pregnancy tests into Nicholas’s face, your heart pounding. “Here.”

He looked at the tests, confusion swirling in his eyes. “W-what? What the fuck is this. Is this… are you pregnant?” The realization hit him hard, and you could see the panic creeping in.

“Yeah, I am!” you shot back, your voice rising.

“Fucking hell!” he shouted, “my- my fucking career is just taking off, I’m filming a show, this- this wasn’t supposed to get this far.”

“Are you hearing yourself?” You couldn’t believe the things he was saying. “My career is just taking off, I’m filming a show too Nicholas.”

His expression shifted, the initial panic giving way to something more defensive. “I can’t handle this right now! My career is just starting, and I didn’t want to be tied down like this.”

Anger bubbled up inside you, boiling over like a volcano. You could sense the manipulation in his tone, the way he was shifting the blame onto you. “It’s always about you, isn’t it?” you yelled, pushing him away. “You’re just thinking about yourself!”

He reached for you, attempting to pull you back into his embrace, whispering, “It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure this out.” But you shoved him off, your emotions raw and unfiltered.

“Figure this out?” you screamed, your voice echoing in the small trailer. “How can you say that when you’re two-timing? Look at these!” You threw your phone at him, the pregnancy announcement photos landing in his lap. His face twisted with fury.

“Are you serious right now?” he shouted, his anger igniting. “I made a mistake with one of them! It wasn’t supposed to go this far! We’re filming a show together; I can’t just drop everything!”

You stared at him in disbelief. “You’re not the Nicholas I thought I knew. How can you act like this? You’re a fucking two-faced liar, sleeping with two girls and getting both of us pregnant!”

He raked a hand through his hair, his expression a mix of frustration and despair. “I can’t do this. Not now. You need to- you need to get an abortion.”

The words hung heavy in the air, crashing down around you. You looked at him, heart sinking, disbelief coursing through you. “Are you serious? You want me to end this?”

Nicholas looked away, the weight of his own choices crashing down on him. But it was too late, the damage had been done.

Nicholas’s voice was cold and detached. “Yes, I want you to get an abortion. I’ll give you money for it. You need to have it gone by tonight.”

You felt your heart shatter all over again. “How can you refer to our baby as ‘it’?” The bitterness in your voice was undeniable.

He shrugged, pacing the small trailer. “I don’t know what an abortion can do to your body, but you’ll need time to rest. What are you going to tell production?”

You shook your head in disbelief. “I don’t know either! But how can you be so heartless?”

“Listen I can’t deal with this, I have a girlfriend and a baby on the way,” he muttered, lowly.

You couldn't take it anymore. “No! I am your girlfriend! WE have a baby on the way, or at least I thought I was your girlfriend!”

Nicholas stopped pacing, his expression a mixture of guilt and confusion. He ran a hand over his face, clearly overwhelmed.

“This isn’t how it was supposed to be,” he muttered, unsure of what to say next.

Then, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him, he turned and left the trailer without another word, leaving you alone in the silence.

You hugged yourself tightly, tears streaming down your cheeks. The reality of your situation crashed down on you. You felt utterly lost, your heart aching for the life you once envisioned, now shattered.

That night, you lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, your mind spiraling as you weighed your options. If you kept the baby, everything would change. Your career, just beginning to gain traction, would be stalled indefinitely. You’d be a single mother, left alone to care for a child Nicholas had already written off. And as a man, he’d be fine. Even with two babies on the way, he wouldn’t be the one carrying or caring for them.

On the other hand, if you didn’t keep it, you weren’t even sure if you’d get another chance. The thought tore at you, but you knew what the world would say. They’d call you a homewrecker, maybe even try to destroy your reputation, and all without knowing the truth. It would be you, bearing the weight of his lies.

Finally, with a heavy heart, you booked the appointment for the next morning. You went alone, tears streaming down your face as you went through it, feeling each moment echo in the hollow of your chest. By the time filming started later that day, you were late, your spirit shattered.

Nicholas spotted you as soon as you walked onto set. He approached, his voice low, but his eyes sharp. “Is it done?”

You nodded, feeling a hollow ache that reached all the way down to your bones. You could barely look at him, but when you did, all you felt was disgust. He added, as if it was some minor detail, “Don’t even think of reaching out to my girlfriend.” You couldn’t believe how cold he’d become, as if you were nothing more than a piece of his past.

Then the call for your scene echoed across the set, and you took your place opposite him. It was a romantic moment, a kiss, meant to be tender and full of passion. But when his lips touched yours, it felt like everything was wrong. The kiss was forced, awkward, each movement filled with a desperation neither of you could hide.

When the director called, “Cut,” you pulled away and fled, barely making it to your trailer before the tears began to flow. Just hours ago, you were carrying his child. Now, all that remained was an empty ache and a broken heart. In some twisted way, you felt almost relieved that you no longer had a part of him inside you. And yet, the loss left you feeling like a shell of who you once were.

A few days after the procedure, you felt like you had nothing left of him. Nothing to show for the life you’d once carried, the part of him that had been yours alone. He had been such a huge part of your life just days before, and in mere hours, that illusion had shattered completely.

The filming continued, and soon the news of his pregnancy announcement with his girlfriend went public. You watched as the set was buzzing with congratulatory wishes for him. Everyone beamed at Nicholas, showering him with smiles and words of celebration. Meanwhile, you did your best to hold yourself together, concealing the sadness that now rested in the hollow of your heart.

When the season finally wrapped, the months that followed became a time of rebuilding. You put everything into healing, into rediscovering yourself. By the premiere night, you were the picture of poise and confidence, draped in a red dress that turned heads. When you stepped onto the red carpet, even Nicholas did a double take, momentarily caught off guard by your transformation.

After the red carpet, he approached, offering a hollow smile. “So, how are you feeling? I just need to know, it’s really done, right?” He hesitated, glancing around, and added, “I heard sometimes fetuses survive abortion…”

The audacity of his words made you sick. Anger sparked in you, and you hissed, barely holding back your rage. “Yes, Nicholas. Our baby is dead. Thanks to you.” You were barely a few weeks along so you wouldn’t have considered it a baby but you wanted to say anything to knock him down.

As the night continued, you managed to keep your composure, even when his pregnant girlfriend approached you with a sweet smile, chatting as if you hadn’t unknowingly been fucking her boyfriend raw. All the while, Nicholas hovered nearby, his eyes sharp, ensuring you didn’t let anything slip. You walked away feeling relief. He’d no longer have a hold on you.

The following months brought a fresh start. You threw yourself into work, your career skyrocketing as you landed a massive film role. Meanwhile, Nicholas seemed to fade from the spotlight, mostly at home with his girlfriend, waiting for their baby. Until, finally, karma came for him, an article revealed that the child he thought was his was actually someone else’s, belonging to a rockstar his girlfriend had left him for.

You couldn’t help the satisfaction that spread through you. He’d reaped exactly what he’d sown, and you hadn’t lifted a finger.

The Oscar nomination was the pinnacle of your success, and the night of the awards ceremony arrived. To your surprise, Nicholas showed up, desperate to find you. He cornered you at last, offering a string of apologies and congratulations, asking for another chance now that he was alone. But you saw through him, his desire was only to latch onto your newfound fame. You looked him in the eyes, remembering everything he’d put you through. He had destroyed you, once. But you had risen again, and he was nothing to you now.

Without a word, you turned and walked away, leaving him to watch as you went forward, leaving him in the past for good.

[elordilover]

Hii! Could you write a walker scobell x actress reader fic where she's new to acting and her first acting role is in the pjo show? Thank you!!

i love this!! thanks so much for the request! 💐

more than best friends

pairing: walker scobell x fem!reader

summary: you are casted as annabeth for the pjo series and become best friends with your co-star, walker.

warnings: nothing really! not proof read, reader plays annabeth in the seires, half social media

————————————————————————

yourusername- i am so honored to finally tell you that am part of this project! this cast has become family. i’m so excited for everyone to watch it, meet you at camp half-blood: december 20th 🌩️⚡️🌊

walkerscobell- so honored to be able to work with you, and call you my best friend 💐♥️

percyjacksonseries- ⚡️⚡️⚡️

view more comments……..

—————

everyone on the cast just announced their spots in the series, it was your first time doing this so you were a bit nervous. you watched your phone as all the positive comments started to roll in.

you heard the door to your trailer open and saw a familiar face, walker. you would never admit this to anyone, but you did sort of have a crush on him. but you had to put the admiration to the side now that he was your co-star.

“Y/N, do you want to go grab food since we’re done shooting for the day?”, he asked you.

“sure! where are we going?”, you replied as you got up and started exiting your trailer.

“i don’t know, in-n-out?”

“yeah, sure”, you said as you walked to the car.

the whole car ride was filled with scream-singing to one direction songs, it was amazing. the light that shined through his hair made you admire him even more. how the sunshine made his eyes sparkle. the way his smile grew when you were both singing along to the music that shaped both of your childhoods. you had always dreamed of nights like this, now they became your reality. your only wish was that he would see you as more than a friend.

—————

the next day you arrived to set early and we r straight to the hair and makeup trailer, which was were walker was also. you couldn’t wait to see him.

“hey Y/N, how are you?” walker asked as you walked through the door.

“i’m good, a little tired tho, how about you?” you replied.

“i’m good!”, he said.

you two fell into easy conversation while getting makeup done, or getting your hair fixed. it was always easy with him, you always felt safe and at home while you were with walker. it was just something about him.

—————

“action!”, you heard and immediately started to act out your scene with walker. it was going to be in the finale episode, where you place your necklace around his neck. it was supposed to be a little romantic, but it shouldn’t have affected you this much.

walker’s deep blue eyes stared you down, your cheeks immediately turned a deep shade of red. it was embarrassing, everyone on set would notice your admiration toward walker.

walker started laughing, most likely from your eye contact. almost every scene you guys shot together ended up like this, you and walker would burst out laughing. almost every scene had to be reshot many many times.

you shot the scene again and again until it was perfect. your cheeks still burning many minutes after.

—————

after many long hours of shooting, walker entered into your trailer to hang out with you. it had become a nightly ritual for you guys. you would lay on your couch and scroll on tiktok, showing each other the funniest ones.

after minutes of scrolling walker tilted his phone toward you. you noticed the tiktok featured you and walker. it was an edit shipping you two. it used clips from different moments from the press tour, and red carpet events.

“i mean… it’s a good edit”, you said nervously. you secretly loved seeing tiktok’s like these.

“yeah i agree, it’s one of the better ones i’ve seen. we look pretty good together, we make a great team”, walker replied not knowing how that last sentence would effect you.

“we sure do”, you agreed as both you and walker’s cheeks turned red.

—————

the other members of the cast had noticed how close you and walker had gotten, when you weren’t together, you guys were texting, and if you weren’t texting, you were probably asleep. aryan had brought it up to you last week, he said how everyone saw how you guys looked at each other, and how you were both always blushing when you had scenes together. you didn’t believe him though.

—————

filming had come to an end and you were definitely going to miss your new best friends, especially walker. you two had agreed to call and text as much as you could till you could be back together for the press tour.

—————

yourusername- filming this show was the best experience of my life, thank you to everyone who was involved in creating this amazing series. love you all ♥️

the first two episodes are out now! 🌩️⚡️🌊

walkerscobell- SO EXCITED‼️‼️‼️

percyjacksonseries- oh my god

walkerfan- Y/N’s feeding us with this bts content

Y/Nfan- it’s sooooooo good

walkerscobell- first two episodes. out now. 🌩️🌊

i love everyone on this cast so much, they have become my family, so so so thankful for everyone who got me here

yourusername- GO BEST FRIEND ‼️‼️‼️

percyjacksonseries- watching rn.

walkerfan13- PERCYBETH 😭😭😭

Y/Nfan- Y/N X WALKER CONTENT 🎉

—————

after the cast party, you decided to go over to walker’s place before your parents came and got you.

“hey Y/N, i kind of wanted to tell you something”, walker said nervously, “ever since i first met you you’ve inspired me so much and i just wanted to say that i really like you, in more than a friend way”, he rambled out.

you thought you were dreaming, no way he just said that. you stared at him for a second before kissing him, it was just a simple peck but you hope it got your point across.

“wait, you like me too?”

“of course, of course i do” you replied, noticing how red walker’s cheeks were.

he leaned in and gave you another kiss, you couldn’t believe this was real life.

—————

after a couple of months, many interviews, many nights on facetime, many ship edits being sent to each other, many days of secretly dating. you both decided to make your relationship public.

yourusername- my mom approves

comments on this post have been limited…..

walkerscobell- percybeth irl

comments on this post have been limited……

————————————————————————

thanks for reading, please send feedback and more requests!

🎀🧡🐞🫀⭐️🥥🫶🏻🐝🪻🪩🌎🪷🥿🫧🫐🧿🪞

[apomaro-mellow]

Eddie's been on cloud nine as of late. Things were going great with Steve and they were going even better with Wayne and Steve. Eddie thought there might be some tension, and there was, but only briefly.

His uncle was a great judge of character. And Steve's character was perfect, if Eddie did say so himself.

So imagine his surprise when he comes back to the trailer, Steve's eyes red and wet from crying.

Eddie came in from a hard day's work and since he saw Steve's car waiting was prepared to be greet with a kiss. He heard a weird shuffling, then saw Steve sitting next to Wayne.

"Steve?"

"Eddie, it's not what you think", Steve said quickly.

"It's not? Because it looks like my uncle made you cry. And I think I can imagine why."

"Oh?", Wayne raised a brow. "Do tell."

Steve was looking back and forth between them, like he was afraid of a fight breaking out.

"It looks like you gave him the talk every father gives their daughter when she brings her first serious boyfriend home. Like you told him about your hatchet collection just in case he every breaks my heart."

Steve's eyes widened. "Your what?"

Wayne just rolled his. "I had a brief stint as a lumberjack. And two axes hardly count as a collection."

"You still didn't hafta threaten him. You know Steve now. You know he's good to me." What if whatever Wayne said scared him off? It probably took a lot to freak him out but Eddie had never seen him cry before. Ever.

"Well maybe he could use a little warning, just in case."

Eddie frowned and went over to Steve's side. "I can't believe you'd treat him like that. After everything I've told you and everything you've seen-"

"Wayne didn't do anything!", Steve blurted.

That made Eddie pause and Steve took a breath before he pulled something that had been hidden between his back and the couch cushions. "He was showing me this."

Eddie knew what was in the book already but opened it anyway. A photo album, filled with pictures from the day Eddie was born all the way to his first couple of years of primary school. The later years were in another album.

"You were crying....because Wayne showed you my baby photos?"

Steve nodded.

"Can you blame him? You were a handsome baby", Wayne said. "Needed him to know you weren't always funny lookin'."

Eddie looked over Steve's shoulder to shoot him a playful glare before looking back at his boyfriend.

"Sweetness, I truly got myself hitched to a sap. I mean, this made you cry?" He held up the photo of himself, halfway to bringing a spoonful of mashed potatoes to his mouth. The mess around his face and on his hands told the story of his very valiant efforts to feed himself.

"You were adorable", Steve whined, eyes getting a little misty again.

"Alright, alright. I can understand the secrecy now. I'm not a huge fan when Wayne pulls this out. But for you and only you, we can peruse my early childhood. Anything after I turn ten is off limits!"

Eddie pointed a finger at them both, daring him to challenge them.

"Why can't I see middle school Eddie?", Steve asked.

"Oh he was really funny lookin' then", Wayne answered. "Went through this whole phase where he claimed purple was his color."

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 7: Are We Old Friends Or Old Enemies?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter seven of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: I'm going to rate this 18+ just to be sure. References to Past Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Cursing, Blood, Guts, Graphic Death, (spoilers?), Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Present Day

Your motorcycle crunches loudly against the black gravel driveway outside of Crimson Countess' trailer. It looks worse than you imagined, shoved behind Vought-land, and sprouting out of the ground like a fungus. Not an unusual thought given it's ogre-like inhabitant.

You weren't looking forward to seeing her after all these years, because you knew it wasn't going to end well. Deep down you hoped that she had let go of everything that happened in the past, like you had tried, well, until Butcher and Hughie showed up at your apartment. Then again, you're not sure that you've really let go of everything that happened. Sometimes it felt like you just shoved all your feelings into the deepest darkest part of your brain where they’d been festering for the past forty years.

And ever since Butcher and Hughie showed up, those feelings had been clawing their way out like a banished Titan climbing out of Tartarus.

You think again about driving away. If you saw her, there wouldn't be any going back. You couldn't go in there pretending to be your daughter, you had to be you. Which meant the possibility of losing the life you'd constructed in the aftermath that followed your long superhero career.

Was it worth it? Was Ben worth it?

You sigh considering that thought. After the fight it was difficult to answer that question. If the answer was no, you might as well just leave. But the answer was yes. You hated that after everything that happened between Ben and you, the answer was yes.

And that meant you needed to know the truth, needed to see it in her eyes. Which also meant there was only one choice.

You look around the clearing where the trailer sits. It’s in a circle of trees that filter the setting sunlight through their lofty branches, making patterns on the gravel where weeds and patches of grass break through every few feet like an oasis in a desert. Further down the road to the right you see a collection of empty circus carts that rust onto yellowed grass, rising from the earth to tangle in the wooden wheels of the carts.

At least the trees are pretty. You think to yourself trying to focus on the positive. They were, after all, one of your favorite things to paint.

You consider your apartment downtown, the open floor plan and large windows, very different from how she chose to live her life. Your eyes trace the mobile home thinking back about the fungus analogy.

The trailer was covered with peeling white paint stained black and yellow in some areas where sticky mold had begun to fester against the structure. The rickety porch was rotted, so much so that when you walked across it, it creaked loudly beneath your feet and you stepped around several foot-sized holes, where others had fallen through.

She definitely didn't budget her money well. I wonder how much money she got when she was a hero? I know that my salary wasn't amazing. Ben definitely did better than me because of his films.

Then again, you were living off money from your father, and your grandfather's investments in real estate, not to mention your artwork was selling better than it ever had.

Your knock against the flimsy front door of the mobile home, not using your supe strength, but the entire house still shakes.

Probably wouldn't withstand a thunderstorm. Hopefully she's invested in an umbrella.

No one answers and for a moment you hope that she's not here or she's dead, but just like always you’re disappointed.

"Who the fuck is it?" You hear Countess' familiar voice shout from inside.

A swarm of memories flock across your mind at her voice, but you push them aside.

"Your best friend in the whole world." You respond, before you can stop yourself. Sarcasm was an easy fallback. If your mother was here she'd say that it wasn't ladylike.

Really just disappointing her in every century. The thought makes you happy.

"What?" Countess rips open the door so savagely that you wonder how the door didn't come off in her hand. You watch her eyes widen and her face pale as her gaze lands on you.

Well, that's certainly not a normal reaction to seeing me.

"Y/n?" You hear her heartbeat spike in her chest. "You're-" She sputters to look for the right word.

"Alive? Yes." You smile at her. "Well, aren't you going to invite me in?"

"Um-"

A flash of the last time you saw her comes roaring back. The smug look on her face when you caught her and Ben together, the way her face was flushed bright red, sweat dotting her hairline while he- You clear your throat to stop the memory.

You push past her into the small residence, not waiting for her to invite you, and your nose wrinkles as the smell of sweat and her rancid perfume invade your nostrils. It was barely two rooms, the small kitchen/living room was separated from the bedroom with a red beaded curtain that doesn't hide the unmade bed and clothes covered floor.

This was unusual given the fact that she was wearing her supe suit, complete with cape and mask. It was a little tighter in some places than you remember, her reddish hair reeked of cheap dye, her perfume like a cloud of sulfuric acid, and her pointed, cruel face was more wrinkled that the last time you saw her.

"I'd like to say that this is cute," You turn to look back at her from the small kitchen/living room, that was covered in dirty plates and take-out boxes. "But it's kind of a shit hole, isn't it?"

That was fast. So much for trying to be civil. Too much history I guess.

"What are you doing here?" She keeps her voice calm, but the tempo of her heart suggests otherwise.

Your eyes trace the lines of her face, the wrinkles, the subtle graying of her hair that the dye couldn't cover. "Just thought I'd check in. See how things are going. You definitely didn't age well."

"What the fuck do you want?" She snarls this time.

You can't help but smile at her. Something about this whole situation was utterly ridiculous to you.

She said Ben died. Why am I even here? What did she have to gain from his death? The thought swishes around in your brain. But then why was she afraid when she saw me? You think about all the times you spent watching her manipulate the others on Payback and all the other times you were around her, she never showed fear. Why now?

"I'm here because somebody showed up the other day asking me about Ben." You shrug, running one of your hands against the dirty kitchen countertop examining the tip of your finger as if looking for dust. "And it's funny, because as they were asking me questions I realized that you and I never talked about what happened that day. I mean I heard what you said through Stan and Legend, but I never heard it from you. Thought it was time we had a little heart to heart."

Her pulse spikes again, but she covers it with a smirk. "You want to talk about Ben?" Her voice drips with false sweetness. "Well I'll say this, he was a good fuck. But I'm sure you knew that."

Your entire body goes rigid, remembering the night that you found them together, the night after you finally told him you loved him and he pushed you away.

"I mean, after all, he popped your cherry didn't he? Made you a woman." Countess' smirk turns into a rueful smile. "You definitely waited long enough. Ben told me how long you’d been friends. He told me the sex was so boring, that you were so inexperienced, that he wanted a real woman who could actually please him. A woman who wasn’t quite so-." She sniffs, tapping a bright red fingernail against her hip. “Big.”

Her words are like a slap in the face and you feel the cold disapproval of your mother for the first time in eighty years. The anger that surges up underneath your skin flares hot against your cheeks.

Ben wouldn't have said that about me. He- he knew how special that was for me. He said that he wanted it to be special for me.

You remember how happy he looked when you woke up in his arms the next day, before you said the three little words that you couldn't hold in anymore, the ones that you had wanted to say to him since you were eight.

"Poor little y/n. You worshiped the ground he walked on for so long  and finally he decided to pity fuck you. It’s so sad. You wasted your life pining for someone who will never love you. And you thought you could just come here and intimidate me? You’re still the same little girl who begged Ben to fuck yo-"

Her body flies forward telekinetically into your outstretched hand, that clamps down around her throat.

"But I do intimidate you." Your eyes shift to purple with your display of power. "Your heart rate hasn't dropped below 120 since I got here. So obviously there's a reason why you're afraid of me." She gasps against your hand, but you don't let go. "Tell me what happened that day." Your voice has slipped into a monotone, tinged with rage. “And I promise that I’ll let you live. In what condition, well, that's up to you.”

"I don't have to tell you anything!" She spits, pushing her hands together and sending you flying backward as the ball of fire hits you just under the right side of your rib cage.

There's a high pitched popping sound, an immeasurable amount of pain, and everything goes black.

It wasn't the first time you'd died. You'd heard of other supes being able to come back from the dead, and of course the others like Ben and Homelander who were almost invulnerable to injury, but your gift was different. Yes you had enhanced senses, speed, and strength, which were the original powers that were displayed after you received the injection of Compound V, but there was more to it than that.

It took you the first two deaths to figure it out, and you could remember both clearly.

The first was a few weeks after you took Compound V, when you and Ben were on his tour overseas promoting the might of the United States. It was supposed to be safe. The shot fired from the crowd was meant for Ben, but you pushed him out of the way. It was before you figured out he was bulletproof. Your gut reaction was to protect him as it always was. He ripped the guy in half for what he did and turned back to you. You remembered how he looked, remembered the fear in his eyes he never allowed to break through the façade he wore as Soldier Boy as he held you across his lap, holding a hand against the wound where blood poured freely from your chest. You remembered gazing up at him for what you thought was the last time and then the darkness that followed, welcoming you like an old friend.

And then thirteen seconds later you woke up, gasping for air, the bullet wound healed leaving only a circular scar behind. You didn’t understand at first, it wasn't until you died the second time that you realized how powerful you could be. The second time was Ben's fault, a scorned lover, a telekinetic, with a bone to pick with him. When you got in her way she'd snapped your neck with her powers. But this time when you woke, it was different, you felt different. You could feel her powers stirring beneath your skin, and it wasn't until you flicked her away from Ben that you understood. When you died a normal way you came back after 13 seconds, but when a supe killed you, you came back in 13 seconds with their powers.

You didn’t know why 13 seconds. In fact it was Ben that told you it was exactly 13 seconds, why he knew that you didn't know. It seemed that for everyone else 13 was an unlucky number, but for you it was the difference between life and death, literally. You also didn’t understand why you kept the powers. Sometimes you wondered if when you were killed by a supe your body analyzed how you died, understood it, and then you came back with that forbidden knowledge like you’d just eaten the fruit off the wrong tree. 

Ben was the only one who knew and when anyone asked, you attributed your sudden ability to move things with your mind as something you never used in public. Having that much power scared you. You weren't sure what people or Vought would do if they found out, so you kept it to yourself and so did Ben. Honestly, sometimes you think the reason why he kept it to himself was because he didn’t want anyone to be more powerful than him, but you didn’t care about the abilities. You didn’t think you were a god despite Vought’s constant worship and praise. If anything, you felt closer to hell and in a binding contract with the devil.

Exactly thirteen seconds later, you sit up from the floor completely healed while Countess stands there over you, a horrified look on her face. She'd never seen you die before.

"Did you just try to kill me Countess?" You ask.

She puts her hands together to shoot another fireball, but you make a motion with your hand to that flicks her away. Her body soars backward illuminated in the purple glow that manifests with your telekinesis, into the small hallway that leads to the bathroom on the other side of the mobile home.

"You know," You stand from the ground looking down at your melted motorcycle jacket. "This was my favorite jacket. Had it from the 80's it was vintage. Damn.”

“How-“ She groans stumbling to her feet and leaning on the wall for support.

“We all have our secrets don’t we? And I'd love to hear yours."

Her eyes flash to where the front door is, but you beat her to it, yanking her back towards you by the arm, crushing her right wrist in your hand. Her scream of pain quenches the anger fueling in your chest from the words she snarled at you earlier.

"You're pretty worthless, even with your powers." You sigh. “I was hoping for more of a challenge.”

She cradles her broken wrist to her chest, backing away from you. Fear flashes in her eyes when she realizes that she's made a mistake, but instead of it making you feel powerful, it makes you pause.

Being a hero was difficult. You watched how so many others abused their powers over the years, feigning to be pure and heroic but really succumbing to dark urges when no one was looking. It was also why you hated Herogasm.

You hated it because you knew what happened to the normal people, the ones that thought they would be safe with the heroes they admired so much. You'd watched Ben lose control more than once, knew stories of innocent people that were hurt, not that Countess was innocent. But you never liked to hurt people with your powers. Standing here in this trailer made you guilty and watching her cower away from you made you guilty despite your shared history and her harsh words.

"So I'm just going to ask one more time, what happened to Ben?" You force your voice into a snarl, shaking off the guilt.

Because it was necessary. It wasn't just about you settling something from years ago, it was about Ben.

She deserves this, she isn't a good person.

"Go to hell." She spits at you.

You grab her by the front of her red suit and throw her away into the small kitchen. Countess' body crashes into the lopsided brown cabinets with a solid thwacking sound smashing through the flimsy structures. Blood drips down the side of her face from where she hit the cabinet corner, blending into her reddish hair. She rises from the ground with an angry snarl, clutching a dirty knife in her hand.

"I don't want to get tetanus from that. I can't remember when my last shot was-" You begin to say with a sigh.

She swipes the air in a vicious arc, but you grab her by the wrist, dodging the knife. "You never learn do you?"

The wrist twists to the side in your hand with a loud snapping sound followed by Countess' scream that reverberates in your skull as you break her other arm. "Pretty soon you're gonna be out of limbs, so I'd start talking."

Countess drops to her knees as the pain begins to seep into her body. "Fine. I'll tell you-"

"Then do it."

"He's not dead."

As the world stops spinning a high pitched ringing in your ears takes over, filling the monotonous drone of seconds ticking past. The past forty years no longer matter, the next hundred wouldn’t either, because Ben wasn't dead. As much as you hated him, the thought chilled you to your core, because then where the hell was he?

"Or at least he wasn't when they took him." She mutters, holding her arms to her chest.

"What did you do?" Your voice comes out in a whisper because you can hardly speak let alone comprehend what she's saying. "WHAT DID YOU DO?" You scream, grabbing her by the front of her suit.

"They wanted him." She spits.

"Who did?"

"The Russians. They wanted him and they took him!"

"You sold him out to the Russians?" You roar, hauling her up into the air so close you can smell what she ate for lunch. "Why? Did they pay you?"

"No. We all hated him!" She snarls. "But you were always around." Her mouth twitches into a painful smile. "It was so easy to get him to fuck me. I knew it would drive you away, you'd wanted him for so long and he didn't give a damn about you. And then you weren't there to protect him!" She laughs through the pain that builds in her chest.

I was right. She fucked him to make me angry, to get me to turn my back on him. I wasn't there to help him and they sold him out the first chance they got.

"He always wanted me more than you, knew that I could satisfy him better than you ever could. You really thought that he could love you? Ben doesn’t love anyone!” Her eyes glint with malice. “And you’re still the same pathetic little girl who begged Ben for his co-“

Her head tears from her shoulders in you hands cutting off her next words, the explosion of blood from her carotid artery spraying your face, and soaking into your ruined clothes. The ringing is back, filling the void of silence in the air that followed the tearing of bone and sinew.

You stand there for a minute holding it, not quite comprehending what you've just done. You hadn't lost control in a long time, not since you had the fight with Ben about Countess, or when you threw your sofa through one of the walls in your apartment and then broke every piece of glass, windows included, and had to move when you found out he was dead.

Or not dead. The thought chills you. Payback handed him over to the Russians, where he's been for the past 40 years? Why? Just because he was irrational, angry, and a dick? There's got to be more to it than that. Stan would have never allowed that. Soldier Boy was his golden boy, his meal ticket-

You think about the last forty years of hating Ben, cursing him, trying to forget him, wishing that you'd never loved him. The night you fought washes over you, bringing the anger, frustration, and heartbreak roaring back. The head in your hands smashes into mush as the memories barrage your mind, surging over the dam you built to keep them away.

You and Ben had always watched each other's backs. It was the promise you made to each other before all of this started, on the night he asked you to come with him and leave everything you knew behind. You knew him better than anyone else.

And yes maybe he fucked me once and I told him I loved him and he immediately went out and fucked Countess-

Your heart cracks in your chest with the thought, the heartbreak coming back in a wave of sadness that makes you shudder.

But you couldn't leave him, because you knew he would have never left you. Ben may have said that he didn't care about you, but you knew in your gut that Ben would have torn anyone apart who hurt you. He's always protected you. Even before you became supes together.

You stare back down at the mush coating your hands and the front of your clothes.

Why the fuck is everything so complicated?

When you get back to your apartment you're covered in a thin layer of soot, from blowing up the trailer, and a layer of blood and brain matter from removing and crushing her head. You hoped that by blowing up her home and burning her body with your newfound abilities that it would be enough to cover your tracks, but you were uneasy. The buzz of killing her and the shock of her revelation had worn off, but was now replaced with a numbness when you think about what could have happened to Ben, what could still be happening to him.

The shower does little to ease your mind and sleep evades you, despite the exhaustion that pulls at your limbs for using your powers. Dying usually meant that you needed to replenish that energy, but you couldn't muster the enthusiasm to do that. You just felt listless. The last forty years felt like a lie, felt like a waste, because as you’d been living your life Ben had been trapped in Russia.

So you open your laptop on the counter, wet hair soaking through your sleepshirt, and begin to research flights to Russia leaving within the next few days.

I have no idea where I'm going. I go to Russia and then what? Where in Russia? The Kremlin? Yeah let me just waltz right up to that.

You lean forward with your head in your hands thinking about Butcher. He came here because he wanted to know more about Ben. Maybe he knew where he was. He was the one who mentioned Russia.

You pull the card he left behind on your counter towards you, rubbing your thumb over the number. Legend said he kills supes. So is that what he wanted? To find Ben and kill him? The thought makes a chill travel down your spine, immediately followed by the primal urge to protect Ben. But what had Ben ever done to him?

You look at the number again.

If I call him, he's going to know that I was lying. Not that I'm scared of him.

You finally pick up your phone and dial the number, but it goes to voicemail.

"Hey this is Y/f/n Y/l/n. I just remembered a few things about Soldier Boy and thought you'd like to discuss them. Just give me a call-back whenever you get this."

You hang up the phone and sit there for a minute, eyeing the coffee that sits untouched next to your open laptop.

I killed someone today. The thought should be chilling, but you feel no remorse, no guilt.

Is that because I think she deserved it?

Your mind goes back to what she said about Ben sleeping with you, what he told her about you. The urge to cry rises in your chest with the memory of her words.

You remembered that night. You had been so excited. Ben had taken you out to dinner for your birthday, despite your insistence that you'd celebrated enough of those. The restaurant was quiet, secluded, different than the flashy world the both of you were living in.  It had reminded you of before you took the Compound V, when you were still normal. The food was good, there was flirting and hand holding at dinner, and finally a slow dance when he kissed you for the first time.

And when he took you back to your apartment and to bed, it didn’t seem like a quick fuck, it didn't feel like cheap sex. The way he took care of you, held your hand, said your name, looked at you, held you close to him after, and the soft smile on his face that he had only when it was the two of you- it felt special. He made it special for you because he knew how important it was for you.

Tears slip down your cheeks. It would have been one of your favorite memories if you didn't know what followed, what was going to happen the next morning or in the next 24 hours. 

"Guess it was just a lie." You mutter to yourself, wiping the back of your hand across your eyes.

The next morning when you woke up in his arms you couldn't help but tell him that you loved him, whisper it to him, more happy than you'd ever been curled against his chest. You remembered the way he looked at you, like you were crazy and then he left for his movie premiere even though we were supposed to go together muttering flimsy excuses as to why he had to leave. And finally the image of him and Countess in the bathroom crashes over you, sending shards of glass back into your heart.

You thought that by now you'd picked them all out.

More tears drip down your cheeks, as your thoughts drift back to Ben and the years that followed that night. You sigh considering what to do.

I wish I could just forget, wish that I could leave him, but I can't.

But that didn’t mean you had to forgive him.

After a night of no sleep, you stand poised over the wooden chest in the back of your closet. Packing for the flight that left in two days was turning into a bigger task than you'd thought.

Your current wardrobe wasn't suited for storm the capital city of Russia and kill everything in your path to find Ben, it was more suited for late night painting and art shows. The amount of paint stained overalls, oversized band t-shirts, sweatpants, and dresses in your closet was astounding and none of which screamed "fear me." You would definitely need to go to the mall to find more things that you could move in, if need be, and find things that hid your identity. All it took was one photo or video linked online and everyone would know that you weren’t dead.

You knew that no one would be willing to talk to you, give up the information willingly, not to mention if you really had to break into the Kremlin it was not going to be a walk in the park.

It wasn't that you were out of shape. You still trained during the week, took self-defense classes, and worked out to prevent yourself from going soft, but fighting Countess was the first time in forty years that you had faced another supe and you weren’t up to speed on the supes that the Russian government employed.

You also didn't like the idea that you were going in blind. There could be any number of men there, any kind of supes, and anything waiting for you.

But the truth was, deep down you didn't care. What the rest of Payback did had ignited something deep inside you. You knew that people were going to die if they stood in front of you, but the urge to protect Ben rose above all else. Because you still loved him, despite everything he said, despite everything he did, he was still Ben after all this time and you couldn't let him go that easily. 

You hold up your supe suit in front of you. It was made specifically for you, designed of a breathable material that made movement easy, not to mention the hood and mask did a wonderful job of concealing who you were.

I really don't want to wear this again. You think to yourself, eyeing the smooth material. It wasn't that you hated your suit, it was what it represented. If you wore that again, you'd be Indigo and you'd spent the past forty years trying to put as much distance between you and your superhero career as possible. You would be recognized instantly.

Could I even squeeze into this thing again?

You look at yourself in the floor length mirror on the opposite side of your walk in closet. You looked the same as you always had. Countess’ jeer about you being big makes you flinch again, bringing another cloud of insecurity over your mind.

Maybe that’s why he never slept with me before that night. Maybe that’s why he ran to Countess.

The thought is immediately followed by the image of Missy Callahan at your 16th birthday and how Ben clung to her. Then followed by your mother’s constant attempts to hide your figure. And finally, followed by all the other women you had ever seen Ben with. None of the others had looked like you. You shake off the urge to cry and look back at the suit.

Maybe I can paint over the purple, make it only black? Would that really change it that much?

Suddenly your phone rings, shattering the still silence in your apartment. For a second you hope that it's Butcher returning your call, but when you lift the phone to your ear you realize that it's something much worse.

"Hello?"

"I need you." The familiar voice says.

Shit.

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303

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[gravedigginbbydoll]

An Extra Step

Eddie Munson x Bilingual! GN Reader

AN: Heyo! So, I was randomly inspired to write this little blurb. I'm sorry for being AWOL so much, grad school has been kicking my ass. I promise to update my current WIPs as soon as I can. Anyways, this is based on myself being bilingual :) In the blue text is when the other language is spoken. I kept it vague and not specific so that other people who may be bilingual or have English as a second language could relate.

CW: mentions of food, mentions of family, mentions of childhood, no gender mentioned, pet names, kissing, emotional, fluffy

It started as a tiny thing, a little nudge from deep within. It was a warm summer day in Hawkins, you and Eddie relaxing in the trailer. Wayne had given you two your own trailer (right next to him, of course), and you had a jar on the table, coins and dollar bills stacked up in it, determined to get your own place one day together. Preferably a house or apartment, but that was a worry for later. You and Eddie were lounging about, you perched at the kitchen while Eddie was sprawled out on the sofa, attempting to cool off. You leaned against the counter, reading a postcard you’d received from a family member. You giggled at the message they wrote, peaking Eddie’s interest. He smiled, turning to you, sitting up a bit. 

“What’s so funny, babe?,” He asked, cocking his head in that golden retriever way, his eyes curious. 

You bit your lip, unsure how to explain. “Uh well… my cousin wrote me a postcard,” You explained, shrugging. 

Eddie walked over, looking over your shoulder at the note before he deflated a litte. “Oh. It’s not in English,” He stated, a bit disappointed. 

You nodded, biting your lip, thinking. You explained the joke briefly, giggling while doing so, but Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed and you felt your heart sink a bit. 

You never told Eddie, but sometimes you felt like you lost yourself little by little without your first language. Jokes translated incorrectly, you were unable to express certain things in English, and you felt like a part of yourself was dimmed. You wished Eddie could understand your family and even your own moments of frustration, when that little piece of you slipped out, only for him to look a bit confused.

You shook your head, smiling awkwardly, and putting up the letter. “Nevermind…It’s not as funny in English.” You put up the card, taking Eddie’s hand over to the couch. “C’mon. Let’s watch a movie.” 

Eddie could see the pain in your eyes when he didn’t understand your native tongue. He felt his heart squeeze each time, cursing himself for not learning it the moment he learned you had another piece to your puzzle. 

Which was what prompted the secret research. 

Fuck, Eddie had never even studied for school exams this hard. 

He started his search at the library, asking around and trying to see if there were any classes nearby. He learned there were some lessons and books around, though they had to be ordered and the meetings were three towns over. But anything to see you smile. 

Eddie poured over the books, kept a secret journal with all his notes from the clubs he attended (which truly were just people who spoke the language getting together to talk and exchange snacks, some of the older ladies pinching Eddie’s cheeks and smiling over at him.).

He knew you were suspicious, consistently glancing over at him confused when he would show up from the meeting late in the night, lying to say it was extra work hours. 

He poured over cassettes you had in your native tongue when you weren't home, learning the lyrics to your favorite songs. 

Hell, he even began trying to think in the language. (Easier said than done, he had no idea how you balanced the two)

But it was all worth it for that night. 

Eddie had taken the day off, gone to the international grocery store that was miles away, only to drive back, and begin prepping. He was making a meal he remembered you saying you missed, something near and dear to your heart and childhood. He knew it would take a bit of prep work and sweat, but Eddie was willing. 

He grinned to himself, heart swelling with pride. 

He couldn’t wait. 

When you walked through the door that night, you felt your heart stop. Familiar smells that you hadn’t smelled in years floated through the kitchen, your heart racing. You heard Eddie singing along softly in the kitchen, your native tongue clumsy on his lips, but making your heart swell, your eyes water a bit. 

“E-Eddie? What’s all this?,” You asked cautiously, eyebrows furrowed, eyes watering and blurring your vision. 

“It’s your favorite…I figured you deserved a treat!,” He replied…in your language. It was clumsy, the pronunciation not perfect. But your breath caught nonetheless. 

“You did all this…for me?,” You whispered, clutching tightly at your heart as tears rolled down your cheeks. 

Eddie smiled softly, walking over, softly running a finger under your chin to look up at him. “Of course. I love you,” He whispered back, his voice thick with emotion. 

Tears streamed down your face, vision blurred as you threw your arms around his neck, crying into his shoulder, your heart overflowing with emotions, your hands clutching at him. You whispered ‘I love you’ over and over, sobs racking your shoulders as Eddie held you, rubbing your back, kissing the top of your head. It meant the world to finally hear those words in your tongue and being able to whisper it back.

That night was filled with warm and full bellies, laughter and leading Eddie through pronunciation, learning of his secret little escapades (So that’s why he hadn’t been as hungry! Those little grandmas were stuffing him with food…) and showering Eddie with kisses. 

Never in your life had you felt so seen and loved. 

Eddie Munson was it for you.

[chaifootsteps]

stellitz anon - Stella is the Blitzo who couldnt jump off the balcony and escape

I couldn’t help but see Cash behind Blitzø and Paimon behind stolas and the two adults uncomfortably shoving the kids together and think “this feels like an arranged marriage” I bet stolas meeting Stella was very much the same. Stella probably put up a fight to her father as much as Blitzø did to his, found bookworm stolas very boring and really condescending and rude, but unluckily for her she lacked the advantage of stolas making creepy blushing faces over her ‘hotness’ unlike small Blitzø. So she can’t get away with the same things he does. And women aren’t allowed to get angry like men are.

The Circus tried to make a ‘bonding’ parallel showing Blitzø uncomfortable with his arrangement with stolas and stolas uncomfortable with his arrangement with Stella but…that really doesn’t work. ‘I’m just like you! My dad was so cruel he forced me to be with Stella” / ‘My dad is so cruel he forced me to be with…you’

Stella probably kept saying “I want to go home mom!” or “I’m scared dad!” but they told her “this is your home now” “you belong to the prince” even though Andrealphus gets a palace to himself.

And how fucked is that first meeting of these two characters that it inspired Dani to recreate the exact same premise using Cash pimping out his son? Almost like the ‘stolitz childhood friends’ is nothing more than a PG-13 version of that.

Anon, I just need you to know that "‘I’m just like you! My dad was so cruel he forced me to be with Stella” / ‘My dad is so cruel he forced me to be with…you" hit me like a tractor trailer to the heart and I want to curl up under my couch and weep for baby Blitzo and Stella. Well done.

[acewritesfics]

I don’t want you to leave | Eddie Munson

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader 

Request: From Anon

Warnings: Mentions of assault and drunk abusive father. Angsty. 

Word Count: 1,058

Stranger Things Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Eddie!” Y/N yells, slamming her fist against the door to Eddie Munson’s trailer. She had no idea if he was awake, but she knew he was home because his van was sitting out front of the trailer. “Eddie!” 

The door eventually swings open, nearly knocking her off the step. 

“Y/N?” His voice is sleepy, confirming her suspicions of him being asleep. It wasn’t uncommon for the two to hang out, smoke weed, listen to music, and talk about anything and everything until the early hours of the morning. What was unusual was her showing up at almost 2 a.m. banging on his door as if her life depended on him opening it. “What’s going on?” 

He notices a large red welt shaped like a hand on her right cheek and a small cut on her left cheek with a bruise forming around it. Her eyes are bloodshot, and her cheeks are stained with tears. The thought of someone hurting his best friend (and childhood crush) filled him with rage. He gently takes her hand in his and pulls her inside, closing the door behind them. He goes to the freezer, takes out a bag of frozen peas, wraps them in the towel, and presses them against her cheek, causing her to wince slightly. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologises, hating seeing her like this. As much as he wanted to hurt whoever did this to her, she was his number one priority right now. She needs him more than a jail cell does. “Did your father do this?” He asks her, his big brown eyes boring into hers, wanting to know every detail of what happened so he could help her as best he could. 

It was well known that her father was an abusive alcoholic. It was only recently that the public became aware of it. After her mother left, her father made no effort to cover up how much of an asshole he really was. With Hopper gone, the town’s police force had spiralled into a shit show. Her father was arrested several times for being drunk and disorderly, and he always blamed it on his wife leaving and fabricating lies about her disappearance, which gained sympathy from a majority of the people. 

“I have to leave Eddie.” She confirms his suspicions. “I can’t stay any longer.” 

“Do you mean leave Hawkins or your house?” He asks her, his heart pounding as he struggles with his conflicting feelings. 

She confirms, “Hawkins.” she confirms. “He’ll continue to make my life a living hell if I stay here. I can’t be here as long as he’s alive.” 

“I don’t want you to leave,” he says truthfully, even though a part of him wants to tell her to leave so he can be sure she’s safe. But the selfish side of him came out and didn’t want her to leave. He prefered that she stayed with him so that he could protect her. He never saw himself as a hero outside of Dungeons and Dragons, but he wanted to be her hero. 

“I don’t want to, but I have to,” she sobs, tears streaming down her cheeks. She did not want to leave him. She loves him in ways that words cannot express. He was the one person she cared about more than anyone else. He had been her home since they first met in middle school. He wasn’t a freak to her. He was just Eddie, her best friend, and her first and only love. 

“Stay with me tonight, just tonight,” he pleads. “Give me that much. And I’ll take you wherever you want to go tomorrow.” 

She nods and embraces the young man. If she could stay in this moment for the rest of her life, she would. Eddie moved them to his bedroom after a few minutes. He helped her change into one of his shirts and climbed into bed. Nothing was said as they settled in and eventually fell asleep in each other’s arms. 

The two awoke shortly after 9 a.m. Eddie was preparing their breakfast while she sat at the counter watching him. They hadn’t spoken about the early hours of this morning because they were both unsure how to bring it up. 

“Have you made any recent deals?” She asks, noticing the lunch box that didn’t just carry his lunch was now sitting on the counter close to him. 

“Just the usual amount,” he replies. “Do you want to tell me about what happened last night?” 

The mood around them changed instantly as Y/N sat up straighter, thinking about last night. “Dad came home drunk, woke me up to make him something to eat, and when I refused, he called me an ungrateful and useless bitch and did this,” she motions to her bruised and cut cheek. It wasn’t as bad as she had anticipated. “After he passed out, I packed a bag and came here.” 

“To say goodbye,” he murmured to himself. “I’ll go with you.” 

“What was that?” She asks, not quite hearing him. 

“I can come with you,” he says a little louder. 

“No, no you can’t, Eddie. This is your year, remember? ‘86 is your year. You’ll finally graduate, and you have the Hellfire Club. You can’t just leave those kids. They love and adore you.” She moves behind him and turns him to face her. “You also have your uncle to consider. He needs you too.” 

“I’d give it all up for you,” he says sincerely. 

“Why?” She asked, surprised. “Why would you do that?” 

“Because I love you, god dammit.” He admits suddenly becoming a little timid and bashful, a side of Eddie that only a few people got to see. “I’ve loved you since middle school. And I simply can not imagine my life without you.” 

Y/N’s heart skips a beat and begins thumping loudly against her chest. Instead of saying anything, she cups his face and pulls him into a passionate kiss, letting him know she feels the same way. 

When they break the kiss, she tells him, “I’ll stay. If it’s okay with your Uncle, I’ll stay with you because I can’t go back to that house.” 

“You don’t have to go back there ever again,” Eddie reassures her and pulls her into another kiss. 

“And I love you too,” she says softly against his lips. 

[countrymusiclover]

1 - First Name Basis

Part 2

Feisty Coffee Girl

Tag list - send an ask to be added

Seattle is known for one thing: tons of rain and anyone who comes here always complains about it. Now that's not to say that those who have lived here their whole life don't get annoyed by it too. Nobody likes walking in the rain. Most find enjoyment in it because it means you get to stay in bed all day or you're a farmer and your crops desperately need some water. Anyway to the point of my ranting of rain is that I would find enjoyment in it on a particular morning. The morning I met the particular surgeon who would change my whole life forever….

The morning started out like any other; the news reported a heavy chance of rain. Jumping out of bed I missed my alarm and one of my friends who was supposed to babysit today was running late. Holding my phone up to my ear I was running around like a mad woman. “Caroline, please hurry. I need you to please be here.”

“I'm coming up the stairs now. I got stuck in traffic. Why is today so important exactly?” My best friend from home who I had moved with here asked me.

My sister Izzie and I grew up in a trailer park in Chehalis, Washington. Our mother basically raised us on our own until Izzie told her she wanted to go to medical school. Our mother spent up the money that we had saved for this to some psychics she went to see. I didn’t really understand why she needed the appointments but I could assume it was because both her daughters got pregnant young. Yet only one of us kept the baby….and I was the one who did it. “It is important because my boss said I would be getting my promotion today. The only requirement is that I come in earlier than normal.”

“Okay now I remember. And calm down, I am outside your door.” She knocked on my apartment door three times while I tossed my phone on the coach, heading to open the door letting her inside.

Caroline Brooke, my childhood best friend, smiled at me. Her curly blonde hair falling over her shoulders when she sat down at my kitchen island. “Why don’t use ask your sister to watch Eve?”

“Because she works 40 hr shifts and she’s only just an intern. She can’t afford to miss a day.”

“And apparently neither can you.” Caroline sent me a half glare. “Have you ever thought about giving your mom the spare room so she can watch her?”

Shaking my head I knew she had a good heart but she didn’t grow up around my mother all the time. My mother was happy I kept my baby up until the point when I had started working at the diner near our trailer park and I wouldn’t give her my money that I had earned. “Caroline, I love you. But my mother only cares about herself nowadays.”

“Sorry," I asked. Hey uh we should probably get Eve to school soon.” She clasped her hands together in her lap.

Looking back over my shoulder to the clock I saw it was almost 9:30 and I needed to be at work before 10:15am. Sliding on my feet I went down the short hallway to my daughter’s room creaking it open. “Everly, we need to get going. Caroline is here to take you to school.”

“Okay, mommy.” Everly came out wearing an orange sweatshirt with an orange on the front and some blue jeans and tennis shoes. She ran past me hugging my best friend sweetly. “Caroline!”

Grabbing my bag by the front door I slipped on my brown boots. I had put on my black leggings and a long green sweater that was required for our uniforms at the coffee shop. Caroline walked towards the door with me and so the three of us headed downstairs. Entering the store my boss Mandy came around the back corner. “Stevens, I need you to work the orders for a few hours until our meeting.”

“I'm on it, boss.” I called her from the back room. This had become our busy morning with the heavy rain everyone wanted a warm drink to fight off the cold. Scrambling around with a tray of coffee I handed them to each one in line who had already prepaid.

I heard someone call my name to head back to the front cash register. “Y/n! Somebody’s at the register waiting.” Della, my work friend came around the corner throwing her brunette curly hair in a ponytail switching jobs with me.

Moving back to the register seeing a guy with green eyes and brown hair. He also had a good scruff going on his chin. “Well now my day just got a whole lot better. You’re the first beautiful thing I have found in this city since I flew in last night.”

“Oh wow. I was not expecting this to start my morning off. Uh what can I get you?” I chuckled, tucking some loose hair behind my ear avoiding his gaze.

The stranger sent me a smile. “A bone dry cappuccino. Unless you have any other recommendations.”

“I’ve had the blueberry scones here and they are pretty good.” I tilted my head to the side.

The stranger reached into his jacket pocket. “I’ll take one of those too.”

“That’ll be $8. 05.” I finally lifted my gaze up to his. Blinking my eyes I just stood there for a second as he handed me some cash and I saw it was a twenty dollar bill. “Uh this is too much. I’ll give you change back.”

The stranger sent me a smirk shaking his head no. “You can keep the change, little blonde.”

“The names Y/n for your information since you didn’t choose to read my name tag.” I rolled my eyes at him, slightly turning around to make his coffee. Pouring the different liquids in a cup focused on my task until he spoke up again.

“My name's Mark. Mark Sloan even though you didn’t bother to ask me. “

Putting the lid on the cup I faced him once more sliding the cup to him. Opening the food case I slid the blueberry scone in a paper bag and handed it to him too. “Ah first name basis already. Next thing I know you’ll be asking me out on a date for just giving you your coffee.”

“I mean I am a lot of fun on a date. I could be down if you’re interested, especially for a night in bed.” Mark smirked at me, raising his coffee cup up and taking a long drink.

My face heated up quickly at the way he just blurted that out in public. I haven’t dated anyone since I had gotten pregnant back when I was thirteen. Izzie would get pregnant two years later. I felt it had become too hard to date or all awkward with me having a young kid. “Oh I don’t know about that. I am not great with dates.”

“You seem like you’d be pretty fun to me.” Mark chuckled, picking up his paper bag. He reached across the table writing down something on one of the comment cards we had near the register. He holds out the note in front of me.

I knitted my brows together confused at what he was holding out towards me. “What’s that for you already paid me?”

“It has my phone number on it. If you’re interested you should call me later.” Mark offers still waiting for me to take it from his hand.

I paused briefly just staring into his eyes. He was obviously attractive there was no doubt there. Della rounded the corner tapping me on the shoulder. “Y/n, our boss wants to see us in the back.”

“You seriously think I am going to go on a date with a stranger?” I ignored Della standing there.

Mark kept his gaze focused on mine. “We’re on a first name basis, Y/n. We wouldn’t be strangers if you take me up on my offer right now or sometime later.”

“Y/n?” Della called my name again.

I didn’t turn my head away when I lifted my right hand taking the note out of his hand smiling before Della was tugging me away from him by my forearm. “I’ll think about it. I…I’m coming. Hey I’m coming - I’ll think about it, Mark.”

“I’ll be waiting for your call, little feisty blonde.” Mark chuckled watching me and my coworker going around the corner and he found himself wanting to see you again the next day.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[onsunnyside]

yet another prompt from my bestie’s ask: drum roll please (pun intended)… here’s drummer!Rafe

The road to stardom is wild and loud, full of flashing lights and cheering crowds in a new city every night. It's also full of distractions that come in various shapes and colours, whether that be liquor bottles, a white powdery substance, or the endless line of groupies. Rafe and his band are no strangers to indulging in those distractions, the rugged and crazy lifestyle quickly became a part of their rockstar image.

You have a dream to make it big, and to see your name on the silver screen with the generation's greatest. Unfortunately, Hollywood was beyond tough on those who weren't already born within the golden gates. You're a lucky one, with all your hard work and sleepless nights, you go from waitressing and living in a trailer park in L.A. to living comfortably in your dream home with a resume that just keeps getting longer and longer.

You meet Rafe at a mutual friend's party. You've been close with one of his bandmates for a little while, and finally got the opportunity to meet the rest of them.

Your first impressions are awful, to say the least: you were excited to meet the drummer of the famed rock band and have been staring at him all night, working up the courage one smidge at a time. When he slips out the balcony doors, you take your chance.

Rafe's leaning over the railing, cigarette hanging from between his fingers as he types on his phone. When you step beside him, he glances at you, blue eyes lazily dragging over your figure.

"I thought groupies weren't allowed in here."

You stand there dumbfounded, jaw on the floor as he blows the smoke.

"I'm not—"

He cuts you off with a heavy sigh, "don't tell me you're a friend of a friend, or a classmate from childhood, or someone's long-distance girlfriend. I've heard it all, trust me."

You cross your arms, heat filling your chest, "Do you talk to everyone like that?"

"Just those who deserve it." His voice is low, "Beat it, sweetheart. You don't want to get thrown out and risk ruining that pretty dress, now do you?"

You don't know what his problem was. For someone so loved and adored, he was a fucking asshole. You supposed that's the lovely work of PR teams, they can make even the cruellest monsters into angels. Hell, even your team worked tirelessly to maintain your image.

"You're still here? Don't you have a security guard to blow, or a tour bus to break into?" He asks condescendingly, hair falling over his forehead as he leans down, studying you with that stupid smirk. “Who are you fucking, huh? Is it one of the desperate socialites, or the wannabe models?”

His laugh breaks into a shout when your drink splashes on his face, the alcohol dripping down his chin to his chains and silk blue shirt, "what the fuck—"

You don't stay long enough to hear his curses and return to the penthouse, promising yourself to never speak to him again.

I'm sensing... hate fucking: his hand is over your mouth and you're pressed against the tiled wall, dress hiked up and legs around his waist. The party rages on inside the club, hopefully still lively enough that no one will notice your absence. Tonight was for you to celebrate your first big award win, you didn't know Rafe was coming with your mutual friend, and you'd die before admitting that you're glad he did.

You can't help your moans, his cock effortlessly hitting your sweet spot with every rock. He fills you so deeply, stretching your hole with his fat girth, and it pains you to know that he's ruined you for anyone else. You just know you'll be a limping mess.

"Shut up. God, you never fucking shut up." He grunts, his hand falling to your throat, "You wanna get caught? Want everyone to know you're fucking a... what is it you called me?"

He grinds into you and you gasp, gaze locked on his lips. He was a great kisser, the best you've ever had, but you'd never tell him that, just like how you refused to ask for another.

"A-An ungrateful prick."

His eyes gleamed dangerously, sweat brimming at his brow, "Yeah, that's it. I bet you're grateful I didn't leave when you told me to."

He keeps you pinned to the wall with his hips and his other hand slips where you meet. His skillful fingers toy with your needy bundle and your body convulses, your juices nearly dripping down his length.

"And you said I never shut up."

A harsh slap lands on your clit and your choked whimper turns into a loud whine when he repeats the action again, harder this time. The lewd sounds of your wetness bounce off the washroom walls. If you had any shame left, it was gone now, tucked in his pocket with your torn underwear.

"You'll be on your knees and thanking me by the end of the night. I can promise you that."

I can only imagine how nasty drummer!Rafe is 😮‍💨 the kinks, the spitting, the choking, the messy "let me fuck my cum back into you," the tasteful nude polaroids, and wiping your tears when you cum so hard you cry, "that's it. let it out, baby. such a good girl for daddy."

Can't forget about the disgusting lyrics he'd write about you (ofc there are sweet ones too but that's not until later), telling the whole world how much he loves the way you taste and feel, how you're his filthy little angel and that you bring him closer to heaven with your body.

Oh the sexting !! When he's on tour and you're working, it's hard to make time for each other. Sometimes he'll send you a picture of his hard bulge through his jeans with a cheeky "wish you were here." When you win another big award (and inevitably become a style icon overnight bc of your dress), he sends flowers, cute lil note, and ofc, a nut video with sound 😌 "the next time I see you, I'm fucking you in that dress."

[plants-are-fun]

sunshine

tw!!!! This is gonna be a multiple parter and will have MANY serious topics. Do not read if you are sensitive to that stuff.

this story contains: abusive dad, mean Chris

Chrisxfemreader

readers pov

————————

I miss how I used to be. I assume I’ll be saying that forever. my childhood was by no means easy, but it was perfect to me.

I had a deadbeat dad and no mom, but I also had the triplets and their parents. I basically lived with them.

I still remember how when I came home from school to their house, marylou would open her hands out as I ran to her yelling “sunshine!” As loud as she could. I don’t think I would have made it this far without her.

me and Nick were the closest. I was the first person he came out to, and although I didn’t know much about what being “gay” meant, I was still supportive. He knew everything about my home life, and swore that he would never tell anyone about it, not even his brothers.

Matt was the one that recognized all of my conditions. He recognized that I was dyslexic when I couldn’t read very well. He would always read for me so I could fall asleep. He also recognized my depression and anxiety, and even my ADHD. Although they couldn’t get me to a doctor or therapist legally, knowing made it much easier to cope. He was honestly like a big brother to me, being two years older.

Chris was my everything. I had the biggest crush on him. I could even say my first love. It was obvious that he didn’t feel the same, but I’m grateful he kept me around anyway. He would never fully speak to me as we got older, but he would always tell his friends to back off whenever they picked on me for my hair, my clothes, or even my smell.

that all changed in middle school.

I was in 6th grade, he was in 8th, and he hadn’t spoken to me all year. I would always walk with him in the halls because I was more comfortable that way. Neither Nick or Matt had a schedule anywhere close to mine, so I never even saw them.

It was in the middle of January when I was trying to find Chris that I heard him and his buddies laughing from around the corner.

“what about y/n?” One of the goons said. I slowed my walking, not meaning to eavesdrop, but just so I would turn the corner and be spotted as quickly.

“what about her?” Chris said with a scoff.

“she’s always following you around, like a little lost puppy. It’s so obvious she likes you” some idiot said

I stopped and felt my ears burn with embarrassment.

“yeah I guess she does..” Chris said. I was so hurt. He used to always defend me against these guys and now he’s agreeing?

“but you let her! Do you like her too? I mean, you guys grew up together” one of his friends, Jared said.

“do I like her?” Chris said. I could tell he was embarrassed and maybe a bit flustered. As I thought he was going to defend me, defend us he said “bro, how could I like her? She lives in a trailer park. I could never like someone like that. Nick told me that it always smells like cigarettes and is always filthy. She needs to leave me be. The smell might rub off on me”.

I know I should’ve let it slide off. Middle schoolers are dumb, and they just want attention. But all I could do was stand there and begin to cry.

I bolted away from the group and into the restroom. I stayed there until the end of the day.

all I could think of was how Nick could have done that to me. I didn’t want him to come over to where I lived, but he insisted. He said that ‘it was only fair because I had basically lived at his house’. When I let him in, he seemed supportive, but I guess he was just grossed out. But he was the only person to even know about me living in a trailer park, and he promised he would never tell anyone.

I wanted to hurt him, maybe even out him. But in the end I just shut my mouth and shut down.

when the final bell rang, I ran out with red puffy eyes, and climbed into the back of marylous minivan.

“hey sunshine, how was school? are you ok?” She said. After squeaking out a quick “fine” she just sighed and tapped the steering wheel, waiting for her real sons to come out. Matt came out and I saw him look at me, then his mom before climbing in the front seat. Marylou just gave me a worried look then shrugged to Matt.

Chris came out looking like he was the coolest motherfucker in the world, slouching and nodding to his mom. He got in without even sparing me a glance.

when Nick came bouncing out, he waved to his mom and Chris before getting in the middle row with Chris. He turned to me with the biggest grin on his face and said “hey girl!! How was your day? I have SO much to tell you when we get back.” I just looked at him.

“hey are you ok?” He said, reaching out to rub my shoulder.

I jerked away from him. “Don’t touch me.” I spat out.

“what’s wrong” he said withdrawing his hand.

“don’t even talk to me.” I glared at him. He just looked confused. The whole car was silent. Marylou was looking at me in the rearview mirror and Matt was fully turned around with his jaw on the floor.

“Ms. Sturniolo, can you please just take me home?” I said startling even myself. I had never called Marylou that. Even when I was a kid before learning her name I just called her ‘nicks mom’.

“sure sweetie, are you sure? You can take a nap in your room if you want-“ “yes I’m sure. Thank you.” I don’t want to be anywhere near Chris or Nick. It wasn’t even my room. It was a guest bedroom with a lot of my clothes because I stayed over so often.

“ok sunshine” she muttered.

the whole car ride was silent. It took everything in me not to burst into tears and tell her everything, to ask her to not take me home. The last thing I wanted was to go back home. But it was obvious that I was bothering the poor family, so I would give them what they wanted.

once we pulled up, I gathered my things and jumped out of the car. After saying thank you and ignoring nicks goodbye, I started walking, before remembering I had forgotten my water bottle on the cup holder. I ran back, to where Chris was waiting with the window rolled down, holding it out to me. I took it and turned away before hearing him mutter “not even going to say thanks?”

I turned to him and said “thank you, Chris. I hope being here didn’t make you too uncomfortable” quiet enough for only us to hear it. “You should take a shower when you get home. I wouldn’t want my smell to rub off on you”. He looked like he had seen a ghost, but I didn’t care. I just walked off and slammed the door on my way into the house. I heard the car start to drive away when I felt a searing pain hit my jaw. my dad was awake.

“What the fuck do y-you think you’re doing here? I told you I don’t want your stupid face in here.” He slurred “I’ll stay in my room” I whispered. I knew he didn’t like me, but I never thought he would hit me in the face like that.

“ok, I don’t fucking care. Stay out of my sight. And if you ever slam my door again I’ll kill you.” I was used to empty threats, but after just hitting me, I didn’t know if it was empty anymore.

“yes sir” I said as I walked to my room.

that night I cried harder than I had ever before. I cried so hard that I threw up. After going to the Bathroom to brush my teeth, I saw the bruise that was starting to form.

I got out my flip phone and texted Nick. I couldn’t have him asking questions.

to: Nicky :))))))

hey, I’m taking the bus tmr, I don’t need a ride there or back.

from: Nicky :))))))

ok, r u sure? It’s rlly no problem. and r u ok??? Did I do something????

to: Nick Sturniolo

yes I’m sure. Night

that would be the last time I spoke to him.

Chris POV

—————

I still stay awake thinking of that day.

I don’t know why I said it. I didn’t mean it, she had to have known.

I wanted that stupid group of boys to like me so bad, and stupid fucking Jared had some sort of obsession with her, so I didn’t want to make him hate me by being her friend.

I didn’t like talking about her behind my back, but what would the harm be if she wasn’t around? It’s not like any of these guys would ever talk to her.

I remember being so worried about her. She would always come to school looking like she never slept, never showered, and never ate. It kept up until we took her in.

one day there was a stench on her, so I confided in Nick. He didn’t want to tell me, but I have a way of wiggling information out of people. He felt so guilty after, and made me swear I would never speak of what he told me, even to Matt. But of course I had to run my mouth to fucking jared.

we knew she lived in a park, but that was it. She wouldn’t even tell my mom.

during that car ride, I knew something was wrong. I would have been an idiot not to see it.

when she whispered those words to me, I knew I had fucked up.

Nick asked me what she said, but I was so worried that I could lose Nick too, that I just told him she said thanks.

Nick was distraught after he got the text saying that she would take the bus.

after it became clear she wouldn’t be coming back, Nick gave me her clothes to give to her. She just took them and walked away.

I began to hate her for the affect her absence had on Nick. Why would she do that to him without even explaining? Was she protecting me?

but she shouldn’t do that to Nick.

I hate her.

————————

not sure how I feel about this but I hope you like it!!!

please leave reviews and comments below!!

[velvrei]

get to work

pairing : barry (obx) x reader

summary : rafe gets grounded but is in need of his supply, so he sends y/n to get his stuff for him.

warnings : smut, switch!barry (mostly sub), finger sucking, mentions of oral (f receiving)

a/n: this is from my ao3 a while ago so it’s kinda cringe my apologies in advance

nsfw below the cut .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

It was all so unexpected.

You met Barry through your childhood best friend, Rafe Cameron. He was trapped inside his house because Ward grounded him, which meant he had no way to get his supply. You, being the sweet angel you were, offered to get it for him and drop it off in a disguise to his home. What would Rafe do without you?

You wanted Barry as soon as you laid eyes on him. You couldn’t stand another restless second without his skin on yours, you made it your goal to make that happen by the end of the month. That’s how desperate you were.

Yes, it may seem absurd to obsess over a man you rarely know, but that day when you went to get Rafe’s supply, something sparked. He had a delicious sliver of lust in his eye, and when he first spoke it took him a minute to process what was happening.

Your boots scrapped along the dark pavement as you approached his apparent trailer. Rafe somehow bribed you into stopping by his drug dealer’s place to pick up his shit, a butterfly formed in your stomach at each breath and step you took.

You knocked on the door frame, no door, huh. “Hello?” You saw a man with a faint mustache sitting on a grey couch reading some book, but he sat up from his slouch as he heard a feminine voice.

“Can I help you?” He asked, throwing a tiny bookmark into whatever the hell he was reading as his gorgeous eyes shot to yours.

“Yeah, actually, I’m here to pick up Rafe’s shit. That cheeky bastard got himself grounded, he can’t leave the house until further notice and he really needs his shit or he’ll lose it.” You explained. He motioned for you to sit down in the space across from him and you did just that.

He raised an eyebrow, slightly tilting his head, “How I know you ain’t lying, missy?” He teased, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees. You smirked, “Cause I’m paying for it, mister. I can also call Rafe if that’s necessary.”

His eyes achingly traced your body. “Oh, you came prepared. I like you already. Does that mean you’ll be coming here more often? ‘Cause I’d love to see your pretty face come back at least a couple times a week.” His words made your abdomen ache.

“Maybe I will. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

And now somehow you were here, after at least seven more encounters with that filthy hot man, stood outside of his lounging space, except this time Rafe didn’t need anything, this time is was all you.

When you walked through the doorway and Barry heard your footsteps, he smiled, looking up and pausing his book as he had many times before. “Didn’t I just give you Rafe’s shit yesterday? What brings you back here, baby?”

You tried your hardest not to jump to his arms at that. “You.” You stated. He appeared to be taken aback by your sentence, but when he composed it fully he seemed to be open to it. “What do you mean, me? Like you-”

“I want you Barry. I need you. I got to have you.” You confessed. Your words made his pants tighten. “Oh yeah? You really need me that bad, huh?” He taunted, his face inches away from yours as his eyes scanned your prepossessing figure.

“I do, yes. How can I ever get what I want?” You asked, playing along. He smirked, his hands finding place on your waist. “I think I have a way,” He smiled, pushing you onto the couch he was just sitting in them crawling onto his knees.

“Oh?” You sassed. You slowly undressed yourself, each second he wasn’t touching you drove him crazy. He mumbled, “Hurry up.” You stared, “What was that?” You questioned. He looked up at you impatiently, his eyes had that same sparkle from the other day. “Nothing, I’m sorry.” Sorry? Where did this come from?

Once you were fully undressed, his face lightened at the sight in front of him. Your index finger glistened your slick, you lifted his chin upwards, eye contact remaining as his plump lips wrapped around your digit.

“Sorry? Where did that come from, my love?” He trembled at the pet name, swirling his tongue around your finger. You waited a couple seconds before trying your sweet talk again, “You’re listening so well, honey,” You praised. He just sighed around your finger.

“You like that? You like when I praise you, huh, Barry?” He slowly nodded, a mischievous grin forming on your face. You pulled your finger out of his mouth. His hand came up to stop you, he brought your hand back, lightly kissing the top of it. You shivered, “God, Barry, either I’m mistaken or you like to be dommed.”

He gently let go of your hand, “I do, by pretty women like you,” He answered, smirking. That was simply all it took, that was all you needed to continue. “Well, honey, you better get to work, then.”

Your hands gently tugged on his ponytail holder which had almost fallen out. Your hands wrapped around his luscious curls, redoing his ponytail as you directed Barry’s head toward your womanhood.

He gave you a sly grin, then began his assault on your cunt.