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#I HATE BACKGROUNDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ms-demeanor · 2 days
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Not to be This Guy I’m sure you have 100000 asks about this but do you figure the trump felony convictions actually mean anything
Probably not, honestly. I doubt very much that he will ever serve a term of imprisonment after this conviction and it's not going to do anything at all to erode his support.
It does, however, mean that he can't own firearms. Generally speaking, in most states, in most circumstances without having to take extra steps, people who have been convicted of felonies can't own guns.
I don't think that matters much because I don't think he's someone who actually uses firearms, but if you're looking for solid, material impacts of a felony conviction that's the one that I can think of off the top of my head.
Other than that? I don't think it's going to do much. In most states you've got more of a right to run for office than you do to *vote* if you've been convicted of a felony (and, to be perfectly clear, I don't think that a felony conviction should bar people from voting or holding office).
I mean, I guess a lot of people are going to get a lesson on how ineffective norms are at stabilizing politics when you're dealing with people who don't respect norms.
Like you're going to be hearing a whole lot about "hypocrisy" aimed at the GOP from dems who are like "well don't you want to strip felons of their rights? Don't you hate criminals? He's a criminal!" when yeah no that was never actually the problem for the criminals the GOP hates.
And the problem isn't that he's a *criminal* it's that he's the personality at the center of a fascistic cult of personality.
Though honestly I think the extremists kind of blew their wad at J6 and sank into the background to lick their wounds when they realized they hadn't been able to drum up massive popular support for their movement.
I don't know the entire thing is a giant fucking tire fire make sure to pay attention to your local candidates and check in with the lefties on your local school board to see how you can support them.
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bahablastplz · 2 days
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Prove it: Seungmin x Reader
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Kim Seungmin, your best friend, is so fucking smug all the time. You make the mistake of implying that no man can finger a girl the way they do in porn, and you make the mistake of challenging him when he tells you he can. Content: Smut Warnings: Fingering, slightly mean Seungmin, degradation WC: 1700
“Porn isn’t real.” Seungmin blinked at you from where he sat on the other end of the couch, unamused. The TV was playing something in the background, but neither of you had been paying attention for quite some time. 
“Obviously. Everyone knows that,” he says, annoyed. “Care to share why you’re bringing this up now?” 
You turn your phone around to show him the video you were watching–some girl getting fingered and enjoying it a bit too much, moans increasingly loud as she squirts and creams all over the guy’s fingers. 
“Dude, are you seriously watching porn right now?” He laughs at you, incredulous. “Watch the fucking TV at least.” 
“You’re not watching the TV,” you point out to him. Your friend has been lazily scrolling on his phone for at least 30 minutes. 
“Yeah, but I’m not watching porn while I’m supposed to be hanging out with my best friend.” 
“Fine, fine!” you say, throwing your hands up in surrender. The conversation goes quiet and you ignore the blush that crawls up your face at your friend’s words. 
“What part of that wasn’t real though?” He asks, finally breaking the silence. 
“No girl gets fingered like that and it actually feels that good,” you say. “She was obviously faking it.”
Seungmin doesn’t look up from his phone. “Maybe you’ve been hanging out with the wrong guys.” 
You scoff. “Like you would know, Kim Seungmin. I doubt you’ve ever even fingered a woman before, let alone made one squirt.”
He finally looks up from his phone, lifting a brow. “Are you implying I don’t get any?” 
“Not implying,” you say. “Just stating the obvious.” 
You and your friend have been known to tease one another relentlessly so this was nothing new. The absolutely neutral expression on Seungmin’s face, however, threw you for a loop. You find yourself backtracking, talking again way too fast and digging yourself into a deeper hole. 
“He was moving his hand way too fast!” you say. “It didn’t even look like he was even touching her clit. Yet there she was, seemingly cumming all over his hand! It just doesn’t seem real, you know?” 
“There are other erogenous zones other than the clit,” he says. He’s staring at you now. “I’m telling you, if no guy has ever made you feel that good from fingering, they’re doing it wrong.” 
“And you would do it right?” you challenge. You’re trying to fluster him–he’s simply way too calm for this conversation, and you hate being the only one who’s heart is beating way too fast. 
“I would.” He says it like it’s a fact. It pisses you off, how sure of himself he is. Seungmin, your best friend, who is seemingly nerdy and shy and quiet, who is now looking at you with all of the confidence in the world. Arousal pooled in your stomach as you thought about one fact you knew about your friend: He never took on a challenge he knew he couldn’t win. 
It has always been evident in the way he engages with his own friends. They would make bets with one another, each one more ridiculous than the next, and Seungmin would egg them on and only participate if he was sure he could do it. He would always be nonchalant about it. “I could beat you,” he would say, and they would always take the bait. As if he weren’t even trying, he would always win. That infuriating piece of knowledge, the idea of finally being able to prove him wrong is what motivates you to say what you do: 
“Prove it.” 
He lets out a small chuckle. “If you’re trying to proposition me, you’re going to have to do better than that.” 
“What?” you stutter. Once again he’s managed to get the upper-hand, noticing how embarrassed you get at his words. 
“You want me to finger you that bad? You’re going to have to ask me nicely.” 
You start to backtrack. “Who said I was–” 
“So you don’t want me to finger your pretty little cunt until you cum all over my hands? Hmm? You don’t want to squirt all over my fingers?” He says it as simply as he would if he were talking about the weather. 
You want to deny him now. You want to brush it off, tell him to fuck off, and go back to doom-scrolling and pretending to watch TV. But you don’t. 
“Hmm?” He asks again, taunting you. 
“I do,” you reply finally. 
“Then ask nicely,” he tells you. He moves closer to you on the couch, phone still in his hand. You want to pick it up and throw it across the living room. Maybe that would get a reaction out of him. 
You glance down on his phone, looking to see what he has been looking at that has got him so preoccupied and uninterested up until now. You’re surprised to see nothing but his home screen. Bingo. There was nothing all along. 
“Please,” you say, smiling sweetly at him. 
“Please what?” Now he was getting on your nerves. 
“For fuck’s sake, Seungmin! Please finger me! Please, please make me cum all over your fingers!” You cry out, exasperated. Your words are sarcastic but you get the reaction you wanted from him nonetheless; he reaches over you and grabs the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down with your panties in one swift motion. You’re left completely bare for him. 
This has now crossed over into uncharted territory. Instinctually, you close your legs. Are you really ready to show yourself completely to Seungmin just to prove a point? Just to show he’s wrong and that his cockiness in his ability to finger a girl is all for show?
“Nope,” he chides. “You wanted it so bad, you don’t get to hide from me.” His hand on your knee sends electric sparks up your body. 
Yes. Yes, you were. 
You spread your legs open wide for him, watching his face. He was seemingly unaffected by your actions, the ghost of a grin on his face. He makes a show of reaching over your body, ignoring your core completely to push two fingers past your lips. Your brows shoot up in surprise and he lets out a small breath that’s reminiscent of a laugh.
“Suck.” You do. You let your tongue swirl around the digits in your mouth, getting them nice and wet for him. You do so almost obscenely, moaning slightly at the taste of his fingers and letting spit fall down your chin. He responds by shoving them further into your mouth, pumping them in and out and eventually far down enough that you gag all over them. Your reactions are no longer for show now; he’s already managed to shut you up. 
When he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, it’s with a string of saliva. He reaches in between your legs and finally makes contact with your folds. His touches are featherlight, teasing. He’s watching the way your chest rises and falls, your labored breathing, the way you want to close your thighs again not to hide, but to finally relieve the pressure between your legs and he smirks. 
When his wet fingers dip into your hole you can hear them because you’re already soaking wet. He shallowly thrusts his fingers in and out, gathering your wetness and bringing it up to spread it across your folders. He taps your clit with his fingers, gentle and not with the intention that you need. 
“Seungmin, if you don’t stop teasing me I swear to God–” 
And he shushes you. When you go to protest once again, his fingers finally meet your clit. He rubs circles around it, rhythmic and systemic in his ministrations. He’s working you up, slow and steady until you’re completely putty in his hands. He switches between stimulating your clit and fucking his fingers up into your entrance, occasionally curling them and hitting that spongey spot that has you holding your breath.  
When your eyes meet his, the look he gives you is devious. 
He leans forward, spitting directly on your soaked pussy. You gasp. 
“Is this all you needed? Wanted to get on my last nerve so fucking bad, didn’t you baby? Did you just need my fingers to shut you up?” 
You whine at his words. When his fingers dive into your entrance again the pace he sets is brutal, thrusting into you fast and hard. The palm of his hand hits your clit every time his fingers bully into you. 
“Seung–too much,” you say. 
“Shhhh,” he tells you again. “You wanted it so fucking bad, baby. You can take it.” Your hips buck up to meet his hands and you start to pulse around him–he can tell you’re getting close. His fingers leave your entrance and attack your clit, soaking wet as he rubs furiously but with precision. It’s that motion that has you cumming so hard you’re seeing stars, possibly harder than you ever have in your entire life. The noises that come out of your mouth are not your own, they can’t be. You can’t give him that satisfaction–but you already have. 
When you come down from your high you’re glaring at him. He removes his fingers from your center and looks at you, smug, as he slips them into his mouth with a grin. 
He turns his head and scoots back down to the other end of the couch, smiling to himself as he scrolls on his phone once again. You look at him, still trying to catch your breath. 
“Yes?” He says to you. You must have been staring for a beat too long. 
“You didn’t make me squirt,” you point out. It’s a baseless accusation, a way to try to salvage your bruised ego since you both know he’s already won. 
He simply points down to his shirt which has been soaked from your orgasm; you didn’t even notice. “Told you,” he says. 
“Whatever,” you say, rolling your eyes. You pull your pants up and cross your arms, watching the TV and pretending not to care. 
“I bet that I can make you squirt all over my cock,” he says with a smile. He doesn’t look up from his phone when he speaks. 
You already know what you’re doing when you meet his eyes and say, “Prove it.”
*** A/N: Seungmin has been bias-wrecking me a little too hard as of late. This man is too fine.
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little-pondhead · 2 days
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Day 20: Pitch Bible AU
I had a lot of fun with this :)
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[Quotes from the pitch bible and personal headcanons are below the cut.]
Link to pitch bible
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Pitch!Danny
"The kid with the nerdy, freaky parents. The kid who's afraid of his own shadow."
"Shy, quiet, stumbling and nervous - but always with a smile and a wink to his friends and the camera."
(Page 7)
Danny's death mark looks more like a burn scar rather than Lichtenberg figures. Everyone assumes he was in a fire whenever the trio talks about the Accident. The Fentons back this up since the true events cause an electrical fire in the lab.
He was only bullied about his scars once. Danny burst out crying on the spot, and no one has said anything since. He carries around a homemade balm to soothe the scars when he gets phantom pains.
His death mark extends into his hair and one of his eyes. He now has heterochromia as both Danny and Phantom, as the affected eye's iris was darkened, and a starburst pattern appeared. (inspired by this)
His overall eyesight was also affected, and he now wears reading glasses as a human. Danny frequently loses them, so his friends bought him a used eyeglass chain from a yard sale. The eyeglass chain is made of rainbow beads, and the spirit of the previous owner is attached to it.
Danny took up knitting soon after the Accident to help retrain his fine motor skills and concentration. He's quite good at it, and he made a sweater based on Van Gogh's Starry Night.
Frequently has ectoplasm stains on his clothes from either ghost fights or helping his parents in their lab. Most people think it's paint.
Phantom is invisible to most people (including himself when he looks in mortal mirrors.) He keeps it that way as much as possible, as his appearance is quite inhuman. Danny hates the uncanny valley feeling he causes wherever he goes. Even his friends had to work to get past the instinct to run when he showed himself. He has no pupils, but his death mark remains.
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Pitch!Tucker
"Tucker uses the gadgets that Danny has gotten for him by raiding Mom and Dad's lab: The goggles that let him see ghosts, the backpack that lets him capture them, and the occasional random jet back that Dad was saving for a rainy day."
(Page 17)
Tallest of the trio, even with Sam's boots giving her an inch. Took track and field in middle school, so he's also the most physically fit, even if it's just by a little. Tucker is also the most reckless of the three and carries a first aid kit around for both him and Danny.
Bit of an adrenaline junkie, even if he won't admit it. Red Bull is his go-to over coffee and tea, which both Sam and Danny insist is bad for him. He's always hungry from sharing his meals with Danny, who cannot cook at home.
Tucker was forced to stop wearing his hats in middle school, but he hated his hair at the time, so he dyed it blonde and fried it straight to 'fit in better.' Sam and Danny have yelled at him for it, and he's slowly learning to appreciate his natural hair. (He still wants to keep dying it for a few more years, however. Red is the next color on his list!)
Takes dual courses at the Amity Park Community College in computer science. Became a top student quickly. He uses this knowledge to help Danny tinker with his parents' inventions and computers. (Which is difficult, given their backgrounds.)
Has a form of synesthesia called 'chromesthesia,' which means he sees colors and patterns when he hears sounds. His favorite color pattern is the sound of leaves rustling in autumn since it makes pretty yellow, orange, and red swirls. He turns the most memorable sounds into tie-dye t-shirts.
Tucker uses his 'liberated' Fenton tech all the time. Aside from ghost fights, he will 100% use the jetpack to get to school when he's late or use an extendable arm to hold a drink when he's busy. It drives Danny nuts because he has to recharge the backpack more, but when it comes down to it, he doesn't really mind. After all, Tucker is the one jailbreaking all their equipment.
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Pitch!Sam
"A Goth Janeane Garofalo-type that hides her good looks behind baggy clothes, she is an encyclopedia of conspiracy theories and paranormal activity…a cute girl who loves all things geek!"
(Page 17)
Sam is the most serious of the three and is suspicious of everything. Her parents raised her as a rich elite; nothing comes for free in that type of life. She practically lives in the secondary suite that belonged to her grandmother Ida, tending to the greenhouse and library there.
Her favorite color is purple, and she raises Purple Emperor butterflies in the greenhouse in an attempt to increase their population, despite her location. She raises other butterflies and insects as well, but the Purple Emperors are her pride and joy. She wears purple butterfly charms in honor of them.
She has a bigger library than the high school, with books on topics Danny and Tucker have never heard of. During a ghost-induced power outage, they went to Sam and her library to perform an "ancient form of Googling." She did not appreciate that joke.
Cuts and dyes her hair herself, and bothers the boys about proper self care. She even has a little notebook in her pocket that lists reminders, dates, and observations she wants to look back on later. (For example, it reminds her when Danny is supposed to take his medicine, since his memory sucks now.)
Sam researches the paranormal almost obsessively, especially since she gains that psychic link with Danny. She wants to understand it, how it works, and why it happened. (She isn’t aware the ‘get better’ kiss was the cause.)
The random feelings and visions have increased her anxiety tenfold. Tucker jokes that she’s Batman now, since Sam has used her money to create a hundred different backup plans for everything she could think of, including hidden emergency packs all over town.
Once curb-stomped a grown man, as a child, on the day of Grandma Ida’s funeral because he was bragging about influencing the final will in his favor. She brings this energy to any fight she’s capable of participating in, and ghosts have learned to give her a wide berth. Locals just think she’s nuts.
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bowandbrush · 1 day
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so I just crawled out my grave and apparently Peepaw Donnie has overalls now?? Ok
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Idk I just scribbled poor man
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Also I’m working on animatics for my AU instead of comics I’m sorry
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isasan347 · 1 day
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Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Anyone else watch the new episode of helluva boss?
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froggychair05 · 2 days
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So @enden-agolor’s fic has once again made me lose my marbles in the best way
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hopeluna · 1 day
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heyy<3 Can you do a Katsuki x female reader comfort where the reader is getting ready for a date with him but when she's doing her makeup it isn't going the way she way she wants it to, so she gets upset and Katsuki is like comforting her? It's alr if you don't want to!!
ProHero!Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader
CW: 651 words. mentions of insecurities based on looks, i aged him up as a pro hero to better fit the narrative i hope u like it <333
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You sit there for what feels like years, staring at the reflection on the mirror. You decide it's absolutely pathetic. The tears that start to sting your waterline definitely don't help.
It's date night. A rare occurrence since Katsuki's missions spiked up these past few weeks, added with your work stress. Tonight was supposed to fun and relaxing.
You're feeling anything but that. Katsuki is going to be here in less than 5 minutes, as he has texted you, and here you are- still in a old t-shirt of his and worn out shorts- not ready.
It's just one of those days. The makeup on your face isn't sitting right. You've tried to do your eyeliner for the million-th time without smudging it, all the lipsticks look just wrong on you, the foundation feels more like acid on your skin the more you keep messing it up.
You know it's irrational to think about but Katsuki always looks so handsome even without trying, it's bound to be a shame to others when they see you - in all your messed up glory - alongside him.
The fan above you hums gently into the air. There are muffled conversations from the street outside, occasional shouts from kids playing and tackling each other on the ground. The light from the bathroom door you left open serves to give you a further headache. You're so focused on the throbbing ache, you don't hear the front door opening, the sound of keys.
Katsuki is rightfully startled when he walks in the room. He felt uneasy from the moment you didn't excitedly jump on him at the front door, and now the messy room and your sad face staring into the mirror. He can feel his own lips etching into a frown at the sight.
You don't seem startled from the outside when he walks up behind you, trying to make eye contact in the mirror. He squeezes your shoulder gently before speaking, "everything okay?"
You lower your head, nonchalantly gesturing to the messy table full of makeup products. Katsuki would've found your sad pout adorable if it weren't for the tears stuck to your lashes.
He lets out a low hum in understanding. Katsuki is well aware there are some days you don't particularly like how your outfits or looks turn out - he's aware of it, though he doesn't quite understand how you can't understand that he's left awestruck every time he glances at you.
His eyes flash towards you when you shuffle in your seat a little, "can we...stay in tonight?" - you look at him sheepishly, guilty for ruining the night. Katsuki only tsks at you.
"Don't be dumb thinking whatever you're thinking. Of course, we can stay in. My cooking's better than whatever restaurant we were going to go to, anyways."
30 minutes later, you feel much better with a clean face, which Katsuki insisted he help with. You had told him cheekily katsu curry when he asked what you wanted to eat. You only got a scoff in return. You tap your fingers on the cool kitchen island, softly humming at the mouth watering scent that had begun to waft through the room. The TV is muffled in the background, dimly lighting the living room with the light from the kitchen. The air is cool in a refreshing way. You think you could stay like this forever.
You frown at the sudden poke on your temple as Katsuki walks past you to the couch, hands carrying two steaming bowls.
You wordlessly follow him, snuggling into him on the couch after snatching your bowl. You choose to dig in and ignore the groan from beside you when you turn on your favourite reality tv show- the one that Katsuki claims to hate.
You think this might just be your favourite date ever.
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© hopeluna. Do not copy, translate, modify or repost any of my work in this or any other site. Do not steal or modify my ideas/concepts either.
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liltaireissocute · 2 days
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caleb showing molly his scars for the first time
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nastya PLEASE why are you holding your bow like that (<- i do not know how to draw hands well enough to show the correct way)
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The Malicious Daughter is Back! - 2
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Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.
Chap 1, Chap 2 ,-
Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi 🙏🏻
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
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“Cassy, pardon my eldest daughter. As a mother, I admit the mistakes and the shame you've witnessed today.” Genevieve clasped her friend’s hands together, her demeanor polished yet tense.
She couldn't ruin Victoria and Bucky's engagement because of you. She had worked hard to persuade her husband to connect with the Barnes.
Cassandra looked at Genevieve, noting how she was swallowing her pride—a remarkable feat for such a proud woman. She gently patted her friend's hand. “It’s alright. Every family has its own troubles.”
Genevieve's face brightened upon hearing that. She placed a hand on her chest. “Oh, what a great friend you are. I’m so glad we’re going to be in-laws.”
Victoria felt a wave of relief wash over her. Your attempt to ruin her future hadn't succeeded.
Bucky and his mother, exuding an air of sophistication and wealth, got into their Rolls-Royce Phantom. Cassandra's movements were graceful, and her every gesture was a testament to their family's high status. Still silent and composed, Bucky followed her, his mind racing with thoughts of the day’s events.
In the quiet ride, Bucky's mind kept replaying the events of the day. His fingers touched his lips.
Someone had touched his face and kissed him.
He hadn’t vomited or fainted.
He would have to see the doctor tomorrow.
“Are you alright?” Cassandra looked at her son, noticing how unusually quiet he seemed. He hadn't shown any reaction when she saw him get so close to you. Compared to Victoria, she could see Bucky's face turn pale.
Bucky murmured, “It's strange.”
Then he looked at his mother. “After what we saw today, do you still want to keep the engagement going?”
Cassandra tilted her head and crossed her arms. “We need their money. I thought being in-laws would benefit us, but I'm starting to have second thoughts. We'll see.”
She asked, “What about you? If you don't like it, we can stop the wedding.”
Bucky hummed, his eyes looking out the window. “I don't know.”
Right now, all he needed was an answer to why he didn’t react when you kissed him.
He grabbed his phone and started typing, his fingers moving quickly over the screen. “I want you to search for someone.” Then he clicked send.
Within a minute, his phone vibrated with a message: “OK.”
Bucky leaned back in his seat, his fingers lingering on his lips, his mind racing as the car smoothly glided through the city streets.
💋💋💋💋
Inside the bedroom, Bucky emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets glistening on his six-pack abs and muscular chest. His dark hair was damp, and he exuded a fresh, clean scent.
He had spent an hour in the shower, trying to wash away the sensation of Victoria’s touch.
Then he heard his phone buzz again. It was the information he had requested about your background.
He quickly put on his pants, then sat on the edge of his bed, his body still slightly wet, and started reading the message, his eyes scanning the details intently.
The story unfolded: you are the child of the first wife. After your mother's death, your father, Jonathan, brought another woman and her daughter into the house.
It turned out that when Jonathan was drunk, a woman took advantage of the situation. That woman was Genevieve, and her daughter was Victoria.
You hated your stepmother and stepsister, becoming a rebel. You caused chaos at home and were a troublemaker at school, until the day you were finally kicked out of the house.
Bucky read on until he reached the part about your occupation. His eyes widened in disbelief, and he stood up abruptly. “She's what?!”
🎒🎒🎒🎒
“RINGGGG!”
The bell's sound echoed throughout the entire building. It was supposed to signal the students to enter their classrooms. But they didn’t. They continued smoking, sitting on the floor, or sleeping.
This was a common sight at Granite Hills Reform School, where problematic, delinquent students from all over the country were gathered.
“Tuck. Tuck. Tuck.” The sound of something hitting the floor echoed in the hallway. Students who were still lingering started to head into their classrooms. The sound served as a final warning for them.
They didn’t want to have a problem with the person responsible for the noise.
“It’s time to enter the class, you lazy pricks. Why the heck are you guys still here? Are you discussing the solution for world peace?” You tapped a baseball bat on a locker door, addressing the final-year students who were still acting tough.
The students who had been acting strong before began to back away. One of them pulled a friend away from starting a fight with you. “Let's go. Didn’t you hear she fought two students who weighed like sumo wrestlers?”
“It was her? Damn. No wonder she broke her left hand.”
You watched as the last group of students left the hallway. Now it was empty.
You entered your classroom. Your students were already waiting for you, looking attentive and ready.
You sat on your chair and rested your leg on your teacher's desk.
Pointing at one student, you said, “Andre, prepare the TV.”
“TV again? When can we study?” Jimmy, one of the students, complained.
“Now you want to study? Fuck. I don't get paid enough for this,” you retorted.
“Grab your phone and look for 'To Kill a Mockingbird,'” you instructed.
“We didn't use the book?” Jimmy asked.
“What's the point? You're going to throw the book away,” you replied.
The other students agreed with your reasoning.
“Read two chapters, and I will ask you questions,” you said.
The students in your class started complaining amongst themselves, but you didn't care.
After a while, you announced, “Time's up,” and began asking questions.
You got up from your seat and walked around the class, your presence commanding attention. Then, you picked unlucky student Jimmy.
“Who is Scout Finch, and how does she introduce herself and her family in Chapter 1?” you asked.
Jimmy gulped nervously. “Scout Finch is a local shopkeeper who lives alone and has no family.”
“WRONG,” you declared bluntly.
“Miss, I know the answer,” Andre raised his hand eagerly.
“Give it to me,” you commanded.
“Scout Finch is the young narrator of the story. She introduces her father, Atticus Finch, her brother, Jem, and mentions her mother’s death,” Andre confidently answered.
You snapped your fingers, a smirk playing on your lips. “That's right. Bravo.” Then, you pulled dollar bills from your pants pocket and handed them to Andre.
“As a reward, you could skip this class, buy a coca-cola for you, and grab a coffee from the cafeteria for me,” you said.
“But… I'm diabetic,” Andre protested.
“A mineral water for you then,” you replied dismissively.
Andre rolled his eyes and left the classroom. As he headed to the cafeteria, he never imagined that the hallway would be empty and the dirty graffiti gone.
All of this has happened since you joined this school, and the crime records have also decreased significantly.
You were scary as heck, but you had made a change in this school.
As Andre returned to the class with the drinks, he saw someone who seemed out of place entering the building.
He looked the gentleman up and down. This man seemed to embody the type of person he wanted to become when he grew up.
“I'm looking for Miss Sinclair,” the man asked Andre with a deep voice.
Andre raised his eyebrows, taken aback. “My teacher?”
💋💋💋💋
Back in the classroom, you sat behind your teacher's desk, still asking questions while waiting for your coffee. You rested your right arm behind you and propped your legs up on the desk again.
Finally, Andre entered.
“Finally—" you began, but your words stopped short when you saw the person behind your student.
“Whaa—Andre, did you bring your master?” Jimmy asked, starting to laugh. “Hahaha—oh.” He realized he was the only one laughing in the class.
Andre handed you your coffee. “Here's your coffee, miss. This gentleman is looking for you.”
“Oh, you have a gigolo, miss?” Jimmy quipped.
You looked at the guest while sipping your hot coffee. “The outfit he's wearing from head to toe is worth more than your net worth, Jimmy.”
Other students murmured while Jimmy asked, “Should I become a gigolo too?”
“What are you doing here?” you asked Bucky.
“I want to talk to you,” Bucky replied.
“I don't have time,” you retorted.
“Is this how you talk after you stole a kiss from me?” Bucky's words hung in the air.
“Oohhh…,” the students murmured in surprise, their voices echoing in the classroom. Seeing their intimidating teacher talking to a man who looked prosperous, and she stole a kiss??
“RINGGGG…”
“Get all of your asses out of this room,” you commanded sternly, gesturing for the students to leave.
“Awww,” the students started complaining, reluctant to leave as they wanted to see what happened next. However, they eventually relented and filed out of the classroom, grumbling as they went. In a short moment, the classroom had become empty.
“Is this how you talk to your students?” Bucky asked, a hint of amusement in his voice, observing your interaction with the students.
“They're not students, they're devil spawn,” you replied with a wry smile, leaning back in your chair with a sense of satisfaction.
“Pfft…” Bucky turned away his face, trying his best not to laugh. Now, he realizes entirely that you're different from all the women he's ever met, especially Victoria.
“So why are you here? Is it because I kissed you without your consent?” you asked bluntly, raising an eyebrow.
Bucky cleared his throat. “Ehm. Partly. And I want to talk to you about something else. Please,” he replied politely, his demeanor surprisingly calm despite the situation.
You raised your eyebrows, not expecting him to ask so politely. He didn't seem mad, even after you kissed him. You were starting to feel like Bucky was too good for your stepsister.
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Author Note: I have so much fun writing this chapter 😂
Taglist:
@thezombieprostitute
@thetravelingtyper
@scott-loki-barnes
@mostlymarvelgirl
@chemtrails-club
@dexter99
@seresingirlie
@missvelvetsstuff
@kjah97
@tfatwsoldir
@itsteambarnes
@toldyouitwasamelodrama
@sapphirebarnes
@thedonswife13
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hannnsh · 1 day
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smallidarity 🌻
i like to think their relationship is when u have a crush on ur childhood bestfriend but u realized it later in life and it’s too late now and now it’s unrequited bc we see different people now or sumn idk i like angst
can ppl guess what my fav flower is its not sunflowers i promise. gosh how i hated drawing the background 😭 literally half of the time i spent on this is the background itself 💀 but i finally got to the point where im satisfied to just leave it be lol
i have midyear exams for two weeks wish me luck, i will be limiting myself from drawing and actually study so i dont fail 🧎‍♀️
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chukys-mouthguard · 2 days
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Kinda Tempting
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Genre: a big mixed bag of all the things
Word count: 4.4k
Featuring: Mat Barzal x female reader x Matthew Rempe
Warnings: cheating, secret relationship
Summary: you recently left your position as the media manager for the Islanders behind, along with your boyfriend Mat Barzal, for a position with the Rangers. And their new rookie Matthew Rempe causes quite the stir both on the ice and off
Author’s note: I rewrote this like 4 times…hopefully it’s good. This will be a little series, so things should pick up. I feel like establishing background and stuff is always hard. Hopefully you all like this? And I’m sorry I literally picked two guys named Matt, could I have made that any harder on me and you lol
If someone told you that you’d be working in the NHL while also dating one of the hottest stars in the league, both in skill and looks, you would’ve never believed them. But here you were. The head of the media team department for one of the biggest teams in sports, and also the girlfriend of none other than Mat Barzal. 
The two of you met during your first season leading the media department for the New York Islanders, and you made it your mission to get him to not hate doing the stupid challenge videos and dumb quizzes that every team made their players do. And by the end of that season he’d become a pro, eventually fessing up that he only enjoyed seeing you pop up with your iphone because he knew it meant an excuse to see you.
Now it certainly wasn’t a walk in the park getting the stamp of approval from the organization, but Mat reassured you he wouldn’t let you get fired over it. And they eventually came around to the idea, only for you to get a job offer from their rival New York Rangers 2 seasons later. Despite the move from Elmont to NYC only making your distance roughly 2 hours depending on the day, it had proven to be difficult on the two of you. Your schedules never the same, not even enough for phone calls or facetimes. Sometimes going months without seeing one another. 
Thoughts plaguing your mind on whether or not he still loved you, if he’d been seeing other girls behind your back. When you look as good as Mat Barzal it’s hard to imagine him not having tons of girls throwing themselves at him. You didn’t want to think of the worst, but you saw how other guys in the league made things work with their girlfriends, so why couldn’t he do the same with you. 
Luckily today was the stadium series game between the New York Islanders and the Rangers, meaning an opportunity to finally get to see your boyfriend after almost two months. And to say it was a big game was an understatement, you just hoped Mat would actually make time to see you, and reassure you that things were good between the two of you. 
You arrived to MetLife stadium a few hours early, the media grind keeping you on almost the same schedule as the players. Your first assignment of the day was documenting the debut of Rangers rookie Matthew Rempe, though looking at this guy you’d never guess he was a rookie. He’s 6 foot 8, literally towering over every guy on the ice, and probably off of it too. 
After he finished up a few interviews, you saw him making his way past the crowd of reporters, looking a bit lost as he scanned the faces around. You assumed looking for you since he’d be told ahead of time he had media content to film today. 
“You must be Matthew Rempe.” You walked up to greet him and he smiled down at you, “How’d you know?” Eyeing him up and down you rolled your eyes as if he was someone easy to miss or not notice. “Let’s see, all the headlines talking about a 6 foot rookie debuting for the Rangers, I’d say that was the giveaway.” The two of you laughed as you started down the hall, walking towards the Rangers tunnel that led to the ice. “I’m sorry I didn’t even introduce myself, my name is y/n. I’m the media manager for the Rangers, and unfortunately for you, you’re gonna be seeing a lot of me this season.” 
The rookie simply smiling down at you as you two walked together, “something tells me I might be okay with that.” Fighting the blush that threatened to grace your cheeks, you continued on explaining what it is he’d be filming. He listed to you explain things somewhat, but then he sort of zoned out. Paying too much attention to your smile when you laughed, the excitement in your voice when you talked about your job. Not to mention he was taken aback at how beautiful you were. Your hair failing perfectly over your shoulders beneath your Rangers beanie. He was captivated by you, but tried to keep his cool. 
“Okay, so we are gonna do just a little introduction. Whatever you feel like saying, introduce yourself, tell us where we are, all that fun stuff.” Rempe quickly snapping back to reality, stopping at where the tunnel began to open up to reveal the stadium. He simply followed your lead, waiting as you took out your phone and cued him to start whenever he was ready. 
“Hey Rangers fans, it’s Matt Rempe here. Getting ready to make my debut at the Stadium Series here at MetLife. It’s time to bang some bodies and bring home a win!” He pumped his fists as he emphasized his final words for the camera, you signaling that was a great take. Next, moving over to the bench to do a couple sit down questions. 
“Perfect, you are really a natural Matthew. I’m impressed! It took some of the other guys years to get comfortable with doing all the media stuff.” He smiled as he stood up, once again towering over you. “Well you made it really easy, made me feel comfortable and all the nerves went out the window.” 
“Well good! I’m gonna go edit this now and we will probably have it posted within an hour, just in case you wanted to see it.” “Oh perfect,” Matthew began reaching into his pocket before pulling out his phone, “can you text me once it’s up?” You took his phone, not thinking anything of it, you had plenty of his teammates phone numbers. It becoming a thing for guys to want to send embarrassing clips of each other for their group chats. “Sure thing, there you go! Shoot me a text so I have your number and I’ll get you the link as soon as it’s up.” 
You smiled as the two of you headed up the tunnel, some of the islanders players making their way out to see the ice. The second you saw your boyfriend’s face walking toward you, all of your professional game day demeanor went out the window and you took off running.
As you took off up the tunnel, Matthew was a bit confused, not realizing what was going on, he continued walking as his eyes followed you. Soon seeing you jump into the arms of Mat Barzal from the Islanders. His heart sunk a bit, of course she’s not single, he sighed to himself as he pulled out his phone. Trying to not seem so awkward when he walked past the two of you kissing. Flashing a smile when you mentioned that you’d text him after you finished editing the things you two just filmed. 
Why was he so shocked to see a beautiful girl like you dating someone? Maybe it was shocking that you were dating one of the top guys in the league, who also happens to be on one of the Rangers rival teams. He’d felt a bit foolish for thinking that a girl like you would not only be single, but ever give him, a rookie, the time of day like that. Heading into the locker room, he threw on his headphones and started to get zoned in for the game. 
 It had been about a month since you’d seen Mat, and you couldn’t contain your excitement. He smiled at you as he braced for your hug, cutting it short before giving you a quick kiss. “Mat, come on, it’s been almost two months. Aren’t you happy to see me?” He nodded to his teammates to walk without him as he stayed back, “yeah of course I am, but I’m also trying to get focused. I’m sorry I’m not jumping up and down like you.” His laugh caught you off guard, as almost if he was making fun of how excited you were to see him. 
“Sorry for being happy to see my boyfriend. Well go get focused, I don’t wanna be a distraction to you” Dropping his hands you’d pushed past him, doing your best to hide any emotions you had and ignore the feeling of just wanting to cry. 
“Y/n, babe come on don’t be like that!” 
Mat stood in the tunnel yelling after you, but he didn’t bother to chase you. Knowing it wasn’t the time or place, though when was the time and place for you two anymore? 
Finding a warm area tucked away at the stadium, you took out your laptop and started editing, anything you could do to get your mind off of Mat and how annoyed you were. . 
Beginning to edit the footage you took of Matthew, a smile crept across your face. Everything about Rempe was infectious. His thick Canadian accent as he spoke made you laugh. The little phrases and things he’d say when he got excited about the game and this opportunity. Pulling out your phone, you shot him a text, not sure if he’d respond since he was probably getting warmed up. 
“Soooo, when is it considered too early to make Matthew Rempe, let’s bang some bodies merch? Lol” 
Sitting in his stall, Matthew heard a quick ding over his music, slightly cursing at himself for not turning his phone on do not disturb. He had been getting tons of texts from friends and family about his debut, and while he appreciated it, they were distracting for sure. He went to simply swipe the text away, figuring he’d respond later. But he stopped as he saw your name displayed on the screen. 
He chuckled to himself at the text, typing out a quick reply before heading off to stretch with some of the guys. 
“Ehhh, not sure how entirely appropriate the merch would be. People who weren’t in on it may think it’s like a sex joke or something.” 
Finally seeing a reply from Matthew you laughed out loud, quickly typing a reply before you put the finishing touches on your social media post. 
“Oh lord I can see the headline now, Rangers merch sales at an all time high after rookie proudly endorses banging bodies.”
As soon as you got your content edited and posted, you shut your laptop and got everything packed back into your bag. Deciding you were in desperate need of caffeine if you were somehow gonna make it to game time. The Rangers kept a stash of energy drinks in their locker room, half the time you swore just for you because you never saw the guys drink them. 
“Oh no, here she comes! She’s gonna ask us to do a tik tok!” Vinny Trochek calling out to the guys playing soccer and they all pretended to scatter. Being the media girl the loved giving you a hard time, but you knew it came with the territory. “Very funny Vinny, just wait until you see the embarrassing shit I’ve got of you ready to post!” 
Trochek making a face at you as you popped in the locker room to grab your drink. 
buzz buzz 
“You know, if you were sneaking in the locker room to try and catch a glimpse of me shirtless or something, you could’ve just asked ;)” 
Practically choking on your Celsius you wiped your mouth as you stared at the text you receive from Matthew. He truly was something else, his flirting not at all subtle. Though you didn’t mind, he was a ten for sure. Though you knew he probably was a player and had girls drooling over him. 
But after the not so warm greeting from your boyfriend, you welcomed a little flirting. 
Exiting the locker room you locked eyes with Matthew giving you a shit eating grin as you tried to hide the blush on your cheeks. He smiled to himself as he bit his tongue, turning his attention back to the guys as they finished up their game of soccer. 
The final horn sounded, ending one of the most exciting games you’ve seen in awhile. The Rangers somehow pulled out the win, coming back from down 3 goals to take the game in overtime. Rempe got his first fight in his NHL debut, and the media content you got from this game was endless. The thought of all the editing you’d have to do tonight buried in the back of your mind as you focused on trying to find something to eat in the catering area near the locker room. Lucky for you, some of the guys were always kind enough to set food aside for you, knowing you rarely ate when working the games. Not even by choice, but simply because you were responsible for catching anything and everything on camera and posting in real time. 
You munched on some french fries as you scrolled through the comments on your post of Rempe’s debut, laughing at all the girls drooling over him through their screens. Continuing your scroll you hardly noticed the scratched up knuckles reaching in to steal a fry. “Matthew Rempe how dare you!” 
He shot you a cocky grin as he tossed the fry in his mouth, “Sorry, I had to, you were asking for it.” Rolling your eyes you finished off the fries, then reaching for your bag only to be stopped by Matthew. “Here, as an apology for stealing a fry, let me carry this for you. It’s the least I can do.” Smiling softly you obliged, letting him hold the bag as the two of you headed towards the parking garage. 
“Oh, nice fight by the way. Didn’t feel like wasting much time huh?” He smiled proud as he shrugged, “Better to get it over with early, gets the nerves out you know?” 
As you approached your car, he pulled your bag from his shoulder. “Not seeing the boyfriend or anything?” Checking your phone, you’d never heard back from Mat whether or not he’d want to see you tonight. “Probably not, I’ve got a lot of editing to do and…” your voice trailed off as you tried to make up a believable excuse as to why your boyfriend couldn’t see you. To which Matthew saw right through, “I couldn’t help but notice the two of you earlier, trouble in paradise?” 
Letting out a huff you tossed your bag into your passenger seat as you laughed, “how much time you got Rempe?” An apologetic smile crept across his face as he saw you holding in a lot. He wanted to just hug you, let you cry if you needed to. He’d only just met you a few hours ago yet he felt like he was meant to. Like you needed him to come into your life and somehow make it better. “Well, my family is in town and I definitely have to see them. We are grabbing dinner. But, I can certainly make time later tonight?” Nodding your head you walked over to the drivers side of your car, Matthew offering a quick hug to you, sensing you needed it. Which you did, very much so. He closed the car door before leaning down and resting his arms on the frame as you started it up. “I’ll text you when I’m done with my family? Pinky promise.” He held out his pinky which was quadruple the size of yours, making you chuckle as you wrapped yours around it. “Don’t make me sit around my phone waiting for a text you don’t plan on sending Matthew Rempe.” 
He laughed as he walked away from your car, “you kidding? I’ve already got our conversation pinned in my messages!” Shaking your head you rolled up the window, pulling out of the garage and heading out on the traffic filled road for your drive home. 
As much as you loved your job, sitting on your couch and staring at the same repetitive clips of the Rangers for hours while editing really got old fast. Trying to fight your exhaustion you closed your laptop, pulling out your phone to try giving Mat a call. He texted you after the game, a half hearted apology that truly did nothing more than make you roll your eyes. 
Hey it’s Mat, I can’t come to the phone right now, leave me a message.
Typical Mat, phone on do not disturb after a loss, and you probably won’t hear from him until later or even tomorrow if he’s really in a mood. It had unfortunately become the norm, and while you hated it, you couldn’t say much about it. You did sign up for this somewhat when decided to date a NHL player, and one who happens to be one of the top names in the league. He bears a lot of weight on his shoulders from his franchise, and it’s been taking a toll on him for the last year or so. Spilling over to affect your relationship, though he won’t agree. He thinks things are as good as they’ve ever been. Despite the two of you barely speaking, rarely ever seeing one another now, and we won’t even talk about the lack of anything remotely sexual. Not even the occasional nude could get Mat going, so you’d stopped trying to change him. Accepting that maybe this was who he was now, but never building up the courage to just walk away. 
The buzzing of your phone in your lap snapping you from your sad thoughts, as a smile now appeared on your face after seeing Matthew’s name pop up on your screen. “Thank you for calling y/n’s phone, how can I help you?” Matthew chuckled on the other end of the call, “I am really hoping that y/n is available and still wants to talk to me after the long day she had? I might even have dessert that I am sure she’d love right about now.” 
“You want to come over?” Your tone sounding a bit more harsh than you intended, just a bit shocked that he was offering to stop by versus just talk on the phone or text. “Oh, um, I don’t know. You seemed a bit down earlier, and I just felt like you could use some cheering up. Plus you said it yourself, I’m gonna have to get used to spending time with you so might as well get a head start.” 
Before he could finish his sentence you’d texted him your address, telling yourself to say fuck it and have him come over. You refused to sit and sulk over your boyfriend any more than you already had. 
“Sweet, I’m only like 15 minutes away. Me and the cake will be there soon!” You cackled into the phone as Matthew quickly regretted his words, “I meant like the dessert, not my ass or anything. Oh god! Look I’ll be there soon okay?” 
Embarrassed, he hung up while you continued your laughter. Packing up your computer and cleaning up your place a bit, not sure where your sudden nerves were coming from. It’s not like Matthew would be expecting a five star mansion to be hiding within your small NYC apartment. And before you could double check the clothes you’d thrown on the second you got home, a knock came at your door. The last thing you expected when opening it was Matthew to now be in gray sweatpants and a hoodie, his hair still somewhat damp from his postgame shower, looking even better than you’d remembered. To put in plainly, he looked hot. 
“I hope you like vanilla cake with chocolate frosting!” 
He beamed as he carried the cake inside, setting it on your kitchen island then taking in the apartment. Nodding in approval as you went to grab two glasses, offering water which Matthew kindly accepted. 
“So,” he started as he took a seat on your sofa, “cake first or did you want to tell me your life story to get that over with?” Grabbing the box of cake along with two forks, you took a seat next to Matthew before handing him the extra utensil. 
“How about both?”
“Okay so, why don’t you just breakup with him? I mean, I know that’s easier said than done, but you don’t seem very happy.” Playing with the hem of your sweatshirt as you finished telling Matthew the gist of your love story with Mat, and his reactions were all what you’d expected. “I don’t know, I mean, I love him. It’s not easy to break up with someone you love. And I keep telling myself it’ll get better.” 
“When? Once he wins a Stanley Cup and finally eases up a bit from his Mr. Perfect persona and attitude? How long is that gonna take?” 
He had a point, you truly had no clue when Mat would change and start being like himself again. You missed the karaoke nights with him and your friends, movie nights at your place, dinner dates, even just sleeping in the same bed as him. You missed him, but something tells you he didn’t miss you. 
“Look, I’m not trying to be an asshole. Hell, I just met you like 10 hours ago yet somehow I am in your apartment sharing cake and talking to you about your relationship troubles. I don’t know how we ended up here but I’m not mad at it.” A smile crept on your lips for the first time in the past thirty minutes as Matthew rested his hand on your thigh. “All I’m saying is, if you were my girlfriend, I would’ve sprinted down that tunnel today to hug you and kiss you. I would’ve come to see you after the game no matter if my team won the game or lost by twelve goals. You’re beautiful, funny, super fucking talented at your job, and from the few hours I’ve been around you, I can see how amazing you are.”
You hadn’t noticed yourself tearing up until Matthew reached out to wipe your cheek. “I’m not trying to make you cry, now I feel bad. Should I make you laugh?” He pouted his lips at you, doing his best to earn a smile. 
“Like being so for real, if I was your boyfriend and I got to see you today after like a month, we would’ve had to go somewhere private at that stadium cause there’s no way I’m not getting my hands all over you the second I see you.” 
Shaking your head you grabbed the forks and cake box from the table, walking them all to the kitchen as Matthew laughed at his words, though not denying them. “Well, as amazing as that sounds, I couldn’t even tell you the last time Mat did any of that.”
Matthew practically choked on his water as you rinsed off the forks, “what?”, then putting them aside to dry. “Don’t tell me you haven’t even been having sex with him, he’s your boyfriend y/n! Like…is he gay?” 
“Matthew Rempe!” 
“I mean, I don’t know,” he shrugged as he joined you in the kitchen, “I’m trying to wrap my brain around how a guy could be dating a girl like you, and not be even having sex with her. Like I get the not seeing each other as much because of being in two different cities, the limited phone calls and stuff, but going months and months without sex!? I’m not trying to cause a stir in your relationship or come across disrespectful, but I would one hundred percent not be able to go a month without getting my hands on you and- actually, let me stop myself before I say some things I shouldn’t.” 
Your jaw practically on the floor as he retreated, quickly sipping his water so he didn’t have to speak. “No, actually I think you should continue. I’m kinda tempted to hear this.” You leaned back against the counter as you crossed your arms in front of your chest, a smirk on your face as you could sense Matthew’s nervousness with you getting closer to him. He eyes you up and down from behind his glass before that signature cocky grin crept across his face. His hands now on either side of your waist as he looked down at you. 
Everything in you was telling you to stop, to not let your interaction with Mat lead you to do anything you’d regret. But hell you’ve been in this cycle for months. Constantly waiting for the day your boyfriend starts acting like your boyfriend again. And you were also a woman with needs. If a 6 foot hot man in your kitchen wants to gas you up and show you what you’ve been missing, how are you to say no to that?
“Well for starters, I’ve been trying my best to not stare at your ass with these little shorts you’ve got on. Not to mention keeping my hands off your legs, which I can’t believe you were hiding underneath your jeans all day cause wow.” To say you were enjoying his compliments was an understatement. 
“Anything else?” 
His fingers now brushing your hair back from your face as he could see your breath catch in your chest, you were nervous. He could see it on your face, your heart telling you that it wasn’t a good idea. But your body language telling him that you’d been missing this. 
“I didn’t come over to do this, or fuck up your relationship. I promise you that. And if you want me to stop, I’ll respect that.” His hand cupped your cheek as he waited for your sign to stop, but nothing came. 
“I don’t think anything you do right now could fuck up my relationship any more than it already is.” You smirked as his lips finally pressed to yours, the butterflies in your stomach bursting as you brought your hands to his hair, deepening the kiss as he picked you up, your legs naturally wrapping around his waist. 
A laugh escaped your lips as you saw how high you were off the ground in his arms, joking that he could help you be able to clean the top of your fridge from up there. Matthew shaking his head as he brought your lips back to his. Only to be interrupted by your phone buzzing on the counter. 
“Oh shit, boyfriend’s calling.” 
You rolled your eyes as Matthew handed the phone to you, only to silence the call and toss your phone back onto the island. 
“Guess I’m a little busy right now.” 
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wallabywhump · 2 days
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Tommy’s ears feel like they have cotton stuffed in them.
“I-.” Tommy licks his lips, panic is crawling up his throat at what Evan just said, because it can’t be possible.  “Can you repeat that, babe?”
Evan grunts, and there’s hushed whispers and slamming doors, and maybe a slightly louder noise of Hen yelling in the distance, and Tommy knows the 118 firehouse well enough to know that Evan is hiding in the corner of the changing rooms.
“I said, Gerrard is captain of the 118.” Evan is speaking so quietly that the phone mic is barely picking him up, but Tommy hears him loud and clear.
His heart skips a beat at the confirmation.
“Fuck,” Tommy whispers. “But how?”
“Good question,” Evan hisses. “Bobby quit, and didn’t tell us, and that’s beside the point.”
Tommy nods, it is beside the point. Tommy should be comforting Evan right now, assuring him that they can talk to someone, that it’s okay, this isn’t permanent, and-
Yet, all his brain is repeating is, “were we affectionate at the ceremony?”
Tommy says it out loud without meaning, and he blinks because that isn’t at all what he meant to say, but his mouth is moving without his permission.
“I mean, I don’t know if Gerrard would have noticed if we were, I know I was very stiff, and yes, he knows I’m gay, but he doesn’t know you’re out and-,”
Evan isn’t speaking.
Tommy can’t shut up.
“-and that doesn’t even matter. He was reassigned for discriminatory actions against multiple members of the 118, two of which are still serving, so how is he even back? Who approved this?”
Tommy’s brain is kind of in overdrive, trying to think of how’s, why’s, and fix it, fix it, fix it.
“I reported him for multiple instances of homophobia and racism, and you’re my boyfriend, and he’s captain again, and-,” Tommy takes a deep breath, “shit, I shouldn’t be complaining about myself. You called to commiserate. Shoving all that back into a dark corner of my mind.”
“That doesn’t sound very healthy,” Evan finally says, and it’s deadpan, dry, with maybe a slight hint of sarcasm to it. (Some part of Tommy blames the frequent date nights, and maybe Tommy is rubbing off on him, but also maybe there’s a layer to Evan that Tommy still hasn’t uncovered yet.)
Tommy hums, biting down on his lip to stop himself from spurting anymore nonsense.
“You ask all the exact same questions that Hen and Chimney just asked,” Evan says with a sigh, and then even quieter, and a little defeated. “You were right.”
“I was…right?”
“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Evan says.
Tommy takes a moment to curse past Tommy for being a cynic, despite being right, because he hates that defeated monotone from Evan’s mouth. It sounds wrong. And Tommy caused it.
Deadpan humour and realism may be how Tommy copes, but not even he could have predicted that a disgraced captain would be invited back into their previous role.
“No, no, I’m-,” Tommy groans, and covers the phone mic to say, “shut up, idiot,” to himself, and then uncover it again. He needs to be calm and collected and reassure his boyfriend right now.
There’s the tell-tale sound of alarms suddenly in Evan’s background and the moment has passed. A clang that Tommy knows means Evan just kicked the lockers.
“I gotta go,” Evan says, close to the mic, it sounds hollow.
Tommy nods, but then when he remembers that Evan can’t see that, you idiot, says, “yeah, I can hear.”
Tommy knows that Evan wants nothing less than to go on calls with Gerrard, but over a decade of dealing with the man comes to mind. “Don’t make yourself a target, keep out of trouble, and please, don’t be insubordinate. Just for today. Just until we know what’s happening.” And unspoken don’t mention me, don’t mention your sexuality, hide yourself, just for a day.
“Tommy,” Evan trails off, and there is an unimpressed air to his voice.
Tommy closes his eyes, grips his hands against his thighs. “Please, Evan,” he doesn’t want to beg, but he’s not above it, because he knows Vincent Gerrard inside and out.
Someone yells for Buck, the sirens get louder, and Tommy feels that panic spike again.
“You’ve got to go,” Tommy insists. “Just today,” he repeats.
Evan sighs, loud down the line. “Okay, okay, I-.” Evan curses. “Just today.”  
Relief blossoms in Tommy’s chest, right alongside a kernel of shame that might have found it’s way there during the ceremony and rooted itself regardless of how much Tommy hated it. He hates himself for asking it of Evan, but he doesn’t regret it.
“Thanks,” Tommy says.
Evan snorts. Another person yells for Buck.
“I really-,” Evan starts to say, and Tommy hears the siren and the hubbub of the station as Evan moves through it.
“Go,” Tommy rushes out. “Come over tonight. We can talk about it then, just, at my place. Please.”
“See you tonight,” Evan promises.
“Be safe,” Tommy whispers, hushed, scared that Gerrard might hear him even through Evan’s phone.
Maybe Evan has a similar fear because his reply is equally as quiet. “Of course.”
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chrryypi · 2 days
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Chicken wing boy
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strawberrymochin · 2 days
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(in which you enter the demon slayer realm)
Sanemi eyed you for a while, his hands gripping tight on his sword, as blood slowly trickled down to its tip, dripping on the mud, tainting it red.
Well, the lower rank 6 demon, he was supposed to slay, laid dead on the ground, a little far from you, growling on anger as his body disintegrated into ashes, blown by the slow breezes, dispersing into thin air.
Killed by you. Barehanded.
The moon glowed big and bright, over your heads. "Who are you?" Sanemi shinazugawa said in a horrifying tone, "Or shall I rephrase my question....what are you?".
Shit.
You mentally smack yourself for acting like that infront of him, well that's totally not your fault though, you didn't knew, sanemi was going to make his appearance, moreover it's a background plot, not mentioned once in the manga. You open your mouth but close it again, not sure what to answer.
"Definately not a human."
"I am." You can't help but defend yourself, feeling triggered at his question. Having a mere charecter question your existence is quite disrespectful.
"Is it? I haven't seen a 'human' girl ripping off a demon head barehanded." He comes a bit closer, placing the tip of his sword on your neck, pressing it lightly. "Quiet a sight huh!.......you know I hate lies and surprisingly your aura doesn't resemble humans. What shall I do with that pretty girl?"
Wait. Sanemi shinazugawa called you pretty.
"Pretty....? You think I'm pretty? Oh my god, sanemi shinazugawa called me pretty...." You keep on mumbling to yourself, not being able to contain the excitement. Even though you liked the ever sadistic giyu tomioka more, sanemi was still hot. I repeat fucking hot and feral.
You didn't exactly like ending up in the demon slayer realm but didn't particularly hate it. You have, somehow, the ability to enter manga realms. And, this was your second time, accidentally entering one. The first realm you ended up entering was jujutsu kaisen's, and that was pretty messed up, considering that demon slayer was a heck more peaceful. Atleast you believe so.
Meanwhile sanemi was dumbstruck, first of all, according to his point of view, a girl looking weird creature, who claims to be human but ripped down a lower moon without a nichirin sword, was just impossible. You have to be a demon. And you should fear a sword pressed firmly on your neck, however you were there being giggling flustered mess.
"Stop trying to trick me you demon! It's time for you to join your troops in hell.....and how do you even know my name?"
"Yeah yeah whatever, but you called me pretty and I just....ahhh I love you—"
"S-shut up!" And this time, it's sanemi who's getting flustered. "How the heck you know my name? Forget it, I will just finish off you right here."
"Yeah yeah, whatever, but let's first get those kids home. It's quite traumatic for them to be here."
"Kids?"
"What you didn't know?"
The kids peeked out from the broken house, with eyes clouded in fear, tears stained cheeks, shaking. Sanemi gave a look from the side of his eye as he tilts down his swords rushing to the kids, "i won't let you harm them," shielding them from your vision.
"wouldn't it be better if you take them home rather than wasting time?" You say lazily, "you know what I take back what I said— i don't love you."
"Who wants to be in love with you anyway, filthy blood thirsty demon!" Sanemi fumed, sprinting from his position, "wind breathing: first form- dust whirling cutter."
That's it. You would be dead by now.
Sanemi turned around with a shit eating smile; which dropped in a sec. Lol. You were standing there intact. Ofcourse nothing would make you bleed after all you were a real human, unlike them.
You went to the kids, sighing, bending to their level, "hey it's fine, I know the scene over here was quite terrifying and this uncle over here is terrifying too, but it's fine. I will take you two home. Hmm? Come out."
The kids slowly came out, hesitating a bit.
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By the time you took the kids home, its dawn, sanemi followed you suspiciously, grabbing the hilt of his sword tight. 'How did she even survived that? I cut right through her neck... moreover she ain't hurting the kids?' he thought.
The sun is about to rise still you show no sign of panic. What exactly is she? He thought
A demon who could walk under the sun?
"Hey sanemi, I'm hungry, can you buy me something to eat, I promise I will pay you later."
Part 2 ?
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sidekick-hero · 1 day
Text
The road to hell
(steddie | teen | wc: 2.8k | tags: demon!steve, exes, reconcilation, accidental demon summoning | AO3)
I have no idea what happened, but this prompt wouldn't leave me alone so have a short, self-indulgent demon!Steve crack fic.
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Eddie was not wallowing. He was not.
He’s simply spending his Saturday evening home alone, sitting on his couch and drinking expensive whiskey straight from the bottle with The Cranberries crooning in the background. No biggie.
Steve hated it when he drank hard liquor from the bottle. He always insisted on using the crystal tumblers he'd owned even before he and Eddie had gotten together. Most of their stuff had been Steve’s because Eddie had been living in a one-bedroom apartment the size of a shoebox before they moved in together, while Steve owned an honest-to-god mansion.
Eddie should’ve known they’d never make it.
Their differences had been thrilling at first, sure, but it was never meant to last. He knows that now.
If he’d only known five years ago when the officiator had asked, “And do you want to take Steven Baron Harrington to be your lawfully wedded husband?” he could’ve said no if he’d known that only three years later, Steve would smash his heart into pieces.
The worst part though? Eddie knows that even knowing what would come, he wouldn’t want to give up the three years of blissful happiness before that.
Because Steve and he? They had been happy. He knows they had been. Eddie had been the happiest man on earth until the day Steve said they needed to talk. They hadn’t really talked, after all, because there hadn’t been much for Eddie to say.
What do you say when the man you believe is the love of your life tells you that he can’t do this anymore, that he thought he could be happy with Eddie but it wasn’t working? Apparently, it wasn’t Eddie’s fault, but Steve’s.
Yeah, right.
It’s definitely Steve’s fault Eddie is drinking himself stupid on what is supposed to be his fifth wedding anniversary, if not for the divorce papers he got this morning with his mail. Ready to be signed by him, Steve’s flourished signature taunting him.
What kind of asshole sends his soon-to-be ex-spouse divorce papers on their wedding anniversary?
Eddie’s not wallowing in self-pity because Eddie is livid. He’s so goddamn pissed that Steve would do that to him after promising to cherish him, to love him. How could he have been so stupid and believed all the promises Steve had made? Promises of forever, of growing old and wrinkly together, of sharing the good and the bad times with each other.
Apparently, that has all been bullshit because Eddie’s in the middle of some horrible times and Steve’s nowhere to be seen.
Taking another big swig from the rapidly emptying bottle, Eddie stares at the photo album in his lap. It’s the album with their wedding photos and one of the very few things he had taken from their shared home before he left.
He sets the album aside and reaches for another item, something he'd grabbed by accident during the chaos of moving out. It’s a book with an ornate, leather-bound cover that had always been on Steve's bookshelf, untouched and gathering dust.
Eddie flips it open, curiosity piqued by the strange symbols and archaic script. The words look like nothing he’s ever seen, some ancient language or elaborate code. He squints at the pages, the whiskey making the characters dance.
"What the hell did you collect, Steve?" he mumbles, running his finger along the odd script. He starts murmuring the strange words aloud, half in jest, half in drunken curiosity.
As he clumsily flips through the pages, one of them gives him a paper cut. "Shit," he curses, watching a drop of blood swell on his fingertip and drip onto the book. The blood seeps into the page, the crimson drop spreading and absorbing into the parchment.
The room suddenly grows colder, the air thick with an oppressive energy. Eddie looks around, a chill running down his spine. “What the…”
Before he can finish the thought, the book begins to glow, the symbols pulsing with a dark, eerie light. The room vibrates with a low hum, and Eddie stumbles back, eyes wide with horror and disbelief.
The light intensifies, and with a sudden burst, a figure emerges from the book, surrounded by a swirling vortex of shadows. Eddie’s heart pounds in his chest as the figure materializes, taking on a familiar shape.
“Steve?” Eddie gasps, his voice a mix of shock and terror.
The figure steps forward, solidifying into a very real, very present Steve. Except… not quite. His eyes glow with an unearthly light, and dark, swirling tattoos snake up his arms and neck.
“Hello, Eddie,” Steve—or the demon that looks like him—says, a smirk playing on his lips. “Miss me?”
Eddie’s bottle slips from his hand, shattering on the floor as he scrambles away, fear etched on his face. Seeing Eddie’s reaction, Steve’s smirk fades, replaced by a look of hurt and sadness.
“What the heck is going on, Steve?” Eddie demands, his voice shaking, eyes wide with a mix of anger and confusion. “If this is some kind of…of prank then it’s not funny at all.”
Steve looks apologetic. “It’s not a prank, Eddie. God, I wish it were. This,” he says as he stretches out his arm, the palm of his hand facing upwards, “is real.”
A flame appears atop Steve’s hand, casting shadows over his not-quite-human face.
Most of Eddie was fucking terrified, but he would be lying if he said there wasn’t also a part that thought Steve looked even more beautiful like that.
“So you’re saying… What? That you’re -” He can’t bring himself to say it. It sounds insane, even in his head. Speaking it out loud would mean risking his sanity, he knows it.
“A demon? A spawn of hell? A monster? An abomination? You can choose one of these, I’ve been called worse.”
Steve says it nonchalant, giving Eddie a shrug of his shoulder and a wary twist of his mouth, but Eddie knows him. Knows his tells. His heart twinges in his chest at the sight, fingers itching to reach out and pull Steve in his arms and sooth his self-doubt and insecurities.
But then he remembers that he’s a demon, a fact he conveniently forget to tell Eddie because… Because what? Because Eddie was just a mere human, vulnerable, weak, helpless? Did Steve think he couldn’t handle the truth? Or was he embarrassed what all the other demons would think if they’d knew he was married to a mortal?
“And you kept this from me because I'm just a weak, pathetic human? Is that it? Were you embarrassed of stupid little Eddie, who has to use a lighter to get some fire?”
Steve laughs brokenly, the sound raw and bitter and Eddie’s heart tightens as Steve's laughter echoes hollowly in the room. He waits for Steve's response, his eyes searching for some semblance of truth in the demon's gaze.
"No, Eddie, it’s not that," Steve finally replies, his voice carrying a weight of regret. "I ended things because I’m a demon. We don’t belong here. I’m only allowed on Earth for as long as a deal I have with a mortal lasts. My last one was a ten-year deal, and it ended a few days after I broke things off with you."
Eddie’s eyes widen, hurt mingling with confusion. "So, you broke up with me because your deal ended?"
"Yes," Steve admits, his voice softening, his eyes filled with a mix of regret and longing. "It was stupid to fall for a human in the first place. I didn’t plan on it, I swear, but I couldn’t help myself. Your clumsy ass was just too irresistible."
"Shut up, you love my ass," Eddie retorts without thinking, falling back into their old banter as easy as breathing.
Steve doesn’t laugh, just looks at Eddie with liquid hazel eyes that shine with a red hue if Eddie tilts his head just so. “I do. That’s why I ended things in the worst possible way. I loved you too much to drag you into my mess so I had to let you go. I hoped that it would be easier if you could just hate me.”
Eddie’s breath catches, tears welling up. “But why didn’t you just tell me?” he whispers, the pain in his voice palpable.
"I couldn’t," Steve says, stepping closer, his eyes pleading, glistening with unshed tears. “I didn’t want to hurt you more than necessary. So, I went back to Hell.”
Eddie shakes his head, trying to process everything. “Let me get this straight. You loved me… but you left. You didn’t want to hurt me… but you decided to just tell me it’s over one day, no explanation, letting me think it was my fault. That I wasn’t good enough.”
“I had to,” Steve insists, his voice breaking. “I thought it was the only way to protect you.”
Eddie looks at him, a mixture of anger and longing in his eyes. “So, what now?”
Steve sighs, looking more human than ever despite the demonic aura. “I don’t know, Eddie. I don’t know.”
Eddie’s chest tightens, too many conflicting emotions swirling inside him. “Why, Steve? Why let me fall in love with you if this was how it was going to end?”
Steve steps closer, reaching out but stopping short of touching Eddie. “Because I’m a demon, Eddie. I’m selfish, and cruel. Loving you, having you love me back, it was the best part of my existence. Even if it had to end, those years with you were worth everything. Even if I knew it would hurt in the end, I couldn’t stop myself.”
Eddie’s tears finally spill over, and he chokes out, “You left me broken, Steve. You made me love you and then you discarded me like a broken toy, leaving me wondering what it was that I did wrong, why you stopped loving me. I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for that.”
Steve’s own eyes glisten with unshed tears. “I know. I’m so sorry, Eddie. I thought I was doing the right thing not telling you. I thought… I thought it would be better for you. That you could hate me and move on.”
“Have you?” Eddie scoffs, wiping at his tears angrily.
“Have I what?”
“Moved on,” Eddie clarifies, chastising himself for the tentative hope blooming in his chest.
Steve looks down, his expression one of deep regret. “No,” he admits, “I haven’t. Not sure I’ll ever will but that was supposed to be my problem. At least before you managed to summon me with a grimoire you apparently stole from me. How did you even do that?”
“I just… took it?” Eddie has the good grace to look a bit sheepish.
With a fond chuckle, Steve’s usual reaction when Eddie was saying something silly, Steve shakes his head. “No, dummy. How the hell - pun totally intended - did you summon me from hell? That’s some serious blood magic.”
Steve looks impressed and Eddie wants to preen under it, but he also knows that it hadn’t been his magical proficiency exactly that had summoned Steve.
“It was an accident,” he mumbles, avoiding Steve’s gaze. It figured that the one time Eddie did something truly impressive, apparently, it was a drunken accident. And of course Steve couldn’t let it go, either.
“Come again? This almost sounded like…”
Burying his face in his hands, Eddie groans deep in his chest. Then he raises his arms in an exasperated gesture. “It was an accident, okay? I cut my finger on the paper. Happy now?” He adds petulantly.
Steve laughs at that. “Only you, Eddie, only you…” The way Steve looks at him with so much fondness, face soft and almost yearning, tugs at Eddie’s heart. “Actually, yeah, I’m happy your drunken ass managed something most people who tried failed at, because it means I got to see you again. I… I really missed you, Bambi.”
Eddie takes a shaky breath, trying to steady himself. “So, what happens now, Steve? Do you go back to Hell?”
Steve looks up, his eyes filled with sorrow. “Not if I can help it. I want to find a way to be with you, Eddie. For real, this time. But I don’t know how.”
Eddie’s heart aches at the sincerity in Steve’s voice, but the hurt and betrayal still linger. “I don’t know if I can trust you again, Steve. Not after everything.”
Steve nods, understanding. “I know it won’t be easy. But I’m willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust back. To prove that I love you, no matter what.”
Eddie looks at Steve, the love and pain in his heart warring with each other. “We’ll see, Steve. We’ll see.”
With his head in his hands, Eddie’s sat on the couch, still processing the whirlwind of revelations and emotions. Steve was back, a demon, but still the man he loved. And now, Steve wants to find a way to be with him for real. The absurdity of the situation makes Eddie’s head spin. He reaches for the whiskey bottle again, but Steve gently takes it from his hand before he can take another sip.
“Hey, I think you’ve had enough of that,” Steve says, a hint of humor in his voice. “Besides, we need you sober if we’re going to figure this out.”
Eddie blinks at him, then bursts into a half-sob, half-laugh. “This is so messed up, Steve. My ex-husband is a demon, and I summoned him by accident, and now he won’t even let me drink to deal with it because he wants me to help him find a way to stay topside. What is my life?”
Steve chuckles softly, the sound carrying a mixture of amusement and affection. “It’s certainly not what you expected, I bet.”
Eddie lets out a shaky breath, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite the chaos of emotions swirling within him. “No, definitely not what I expected.”
As the tension begins to ease between them, Eddie gestures towards the broken whiskey bottle on the floor. “Guess you owe me a drink for cleaning up your mess,” he quips, attempting to lighten the heavy atmosphere.
Steve’s chuckle grows into a genuine laugh, the sound echoing warmly through the room. “You can hold me to that. But first, let’s figure out how to fix this.”
Eddie sighs, rubbing his temples. “Alright, demon ex-husband. What’s the plan?”
Steve looks thoughtful for a moment, then grins. "First, we need some coffee. Strong coffee. And then maybe I'll give you a crash course in demonology? See if that magical brain of yours can come up with an idea. You've always been good at thinking outside the box, and that's exactly what we're going to need."
Eddie groans, but can't help the small smile on his lips. "Fine. But if you think I'm going to let you stay here without doing the dishes, you've got another thing coming."
Steve laughs, a genuine, joyful sound that makes Eddie's heart ache with nostalgia. "Deal. Any other terms, oh, husband of mine?"
"Ex-husband. Someone decided to send divorce papers on our anniversary. I should have known you were a demon with a move like that."
All the color drains from Steve's face, his eyes widen comically. He looks so completely human now, if not for the tattoos still swirling on his skin. "Oh fuck. It's the first of May? Shit, shit, shit, Eddie, I'm so sorry! I told Vince to get the papers to you as soon as possible before I went back to hell, I had no idea he'd wait until today."
The thing is, Steve really looks devastated at the thought, his eyes begging Eddie to believe him. He knows Steve - at least he thought he did - and the man he knew wouldn't hurt him like that. Not knowingly. But he also thought that the man he knew wouldn't lie to him for years and break his heart, so what does Eddie really know? He shouldn't be trusted with life decisions, not even his own.
Suddenly he is tired of being angry at Steve. Part of him thinks this is all a dream anyway, and tomorrow when he wakes up he can go back to being angry at him and blaming him for the massive hangover he's got.
Tonight he wants to live in a world where Steve had to leave him because he's a demon and now he accidentally summoned him and is trying to help him stay here for good.
"It's okay, Steve. How about that coffee and demonology crash curse? By the way, I can't believe you never wanted to play DnD with us. You would have crushed it."
Steve gives him a grateful smile and follows Eddie into the kitchen.
"We can treat this like one of your adventures. But don't use your DM voice or whatever on me or we won't get anything done tonight."
The heat in Steve's eyes is probably hellfire, Eddie thinks as he audibly swallows. The road to hell is paved with good intentions.
Or, in Eddie's case, with drunken accidental summonings.
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