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#again most of them won't even remotely be like this
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The Many Illustrators of A Tale of Two Cities 1: Hablot Knight Browne (a.k.a. Phiz)
...& a century-and-a-half-long game of telephone...
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For the first post in a series on the book's illustrators, how could we start with any but the very first one?
"Although a number of critics have pilloried Hablot Knight Browne ('Phiz') for his supposed ineptitude in the program of illustration for A Tale of Two Cities, the fact that he so astutely realized and graphically elaborated so many significant elements of Dickens's letterpress is evidence that his pictorial series reflects an extremely careful reading of the printed text...The visual accompaniment [that these illustrations provided to the novel's monthly installments] was not mere ornamentation, but an aide-mémoire intended to facilitate the monthly reader's keeping track of a discontinuous narrative over a period of seven months."
from "Charles Dickens's "A Tale of Two Cities" (1859) Illustrated: A Critical Reassessment of Hablot Knight Browne's Accompanying Plates" by Philip V. Allingham from the 2003 volume of the journal Dickens Studies Annual.
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Frontispiece Cover to the Monthly Installments Vignette
For some perspective on the significance of this first set of illustrations - published initially within monthly installments of the novel in 1859 (the text of which was collected from the original weekly installments published in All the Year Round, also in 1859) - that single quote comes from an entire article on these illustrations that is itself 49 pages long.
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The Mail
As such, suffice it to say that this particular post will not be a thorough examination of the history, context, and impact of these illustrations (though, for those interested, be sure to click on any links you see throughout this post for all sorts of further reading!).
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The Shoemaker
Instead, it will simply be a place to observe and appreciate these illustrations for what they are, in their "original" glory.
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The Likeness
...I mean, just look at these things! (I'm of course gonna break formality after this one because it's my favorite😌)
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Congratulations
In terms of the odyssey of finding the proper edition of these to post, "original" is the operative word.
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The Stoppage at the Fountain
These are the oldest (except for some or possibly all of McLenan's...more on that many months from now though) and certainly the most iconic of the illustrations of this novel and thus have also had the most mileage, having been passed from edition to edition to edition countless times over the last 164 years.
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Mr. Stryver at Tellson's Bank
That means - as the gif at the top of this post demonstrates - that these illustrations have slowly been "translated" over time into dozens of distinct images - in ways as innocuous as a change in a shadow and as striking as a change in a character's facial expression.
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The Spy's Funeral
These translations have happened in all sorts of ways over the development of printing technology - blemishes, xeroxing errors, low-quality or blurry scans, too much ink being used in printing, image compression, sometimes even actual tracing of the original illustrations! - and as interesting as they can be on their own, for someone determined to find the most accurate representation of Phiz's phenomenal work, they can be...phrustrating.
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The Wine-shop
In fact, as a sidebar, the illustrations that I used for the Best Character Showdown bracket turned out to themselves be traces and not originals! I am Ashamed and disheartened! You could even say that I am yet another...
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The Accomplices
accomplice in the mistranslation of Phiz's work!
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The Sea Rises
Rest assured, though - although they are not from the monthly installments themselves (which as far as my research has gone do not seem to be anywhere on the Internet), these particular scans are sourced directly from an online scan at the Open Library project (contained within the Internet Archive) of the first edition of A Tale of Two Cities, itself also published in 1859.
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Before the Prison Tribunal
I do wish that they hadn't been cropped the way that they have and that they were available in a (much) higher resolution, but as of now, they're the best representation of Phiz's original work that we netizens have!
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The Knock at the Door
A Tale of Two Cities was the final novel that Phiz illustrated for Dickens - and marked the complicated ending to a twenty-three-year (yes) professional partnership between the author and illustrator - but his work here will mark a beautiful beginning to the long archiving project we will experience together here on this blog.
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The Double Recognition
Throughout the work of this project, there will be quite a variety of sources being used - from direct scans by me to the two-tone abstractions of PDFs clearly not created for the purpose of storing image information - depending on the needs and availability of each edition.
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After the Sentence
All of it goes to show the importance of accuracy and attention to detail in archiving art, which is itself an art form to be appreciated.
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Hope you've enjoyed!
& the standard endnote for all posts in this series:
This post is intended to act as the start of a forum on the given illustrator, so if anyone has anything to add - requests to see certain drawings in higher definition (since Tumblr compresses images), corrections to factual errors, sources for better-quality versions of the illustrations, further reading, fun facts, any questions, or just general commentary - simply do so on this post, be it in a comment/tags or the replies!💫
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daytaker · 5 months
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The Gang React to You Ignoring Them
Lucifer
"How childish. They'll have forgotten by the end of the day."
By the end of the day, however, Lucifer has reached his fucking limit. But his pride will not only prevent him from begging you to knock it off-- it will prevent him from even acknowledging in your presence that he is remotely bothered.
He probably goes to vent to Diavolo -- that is to say, visit him for tea and offhandedly comment about your immaturity for pulling such a stunt, knowing that he'll just contact you and beg for him.
Mammon
"Oh no you don't! MC! MC! MC! MC! MC! Hey! MC! MC! Hey! MC!"
He will follow you wherever you go. At first he thinks he's hilarious, being an absolute pain in the ass, but the longer it goes on, the more dejected he gets. His energy level tanks and soon he's just lying on top of the nearest piece of furniture and whining for you to stop it.
If you manage to get him off of you long enough to escape him, he will just text you.
Mammon: MC Mammon: MC Mammon: Hey MC Mammon: Hey Mammon: MC
If you block him, he will just text someone else until that person becomes so annoyed that THEY beg you to stop.
When you finally give in, he pretends like he didn't even care that much. It was just a little joke between pals, right? Haha!
Leviathan
"So this is how easy it is for you to just toss me aside like a piece of garbage."
Levi will take this extremely personally. Depending on why you're ignoring him, he might blame himself and enter a spiral of self-hate. He'll hole up in his room, refusing to leave until you finally come in and either apologize or forgive him, whichever is appropriate.
He'll spend a few moody minutes acting like it's too late for that, but soon he'll be on the verge of tears, making you to swear on a copy of The Tale of the Seven Lords that you will never pull that kind of thing again.
Satan
"Really? Is this what it's come to? You understand how pathetic this makes you look, don't you?"
Like Lucifer, he won't be too bothered at first, assuming you'll get over things relatively soon. But if nothing has changed within an hour or two, he'll start to get testy. He'll send a text, sit in the same room as you and stare a hole through your head, and if you're still ignoring him after a while of that, he'll storm up to his room.
Depending on how emotionally charged the incident was that led to you ignoring him, he will be more or less capable of fending off an explosion of temper. Most likely, any acknowledgement you toss his way will ease the tension, so it might be a good idea to just shoot him a text asking him not to destroy the house, please.
Asmodeus
"But it's impossible to ignore me! You can't look away from a face like mine! See?"
I don't think you can ignore Asmo. Being the literal Avatar of Lust with powers to charm and an intense need to be admired and adored, he simply exudes an aura that demands attention. You should probably come up with a different strategy of attack.
Beelzebub
"...Are you mad at me?"
Why would you do that to him? How could you be so cruel?
If you did do it, it would probably confuse and sadden him. Confusion and sorrow both make him feel hungry, so he will go ahead and start eating his feelings within an hour of the silent treatment. Even if you're content to allow this to continue, the other six demons in the house aren't, and you will ultimately have no choice but to make up with Beel.
Belphegor
belphie.exe has stopped responding
Considering you'd already forgiven him for the whole murder thing, he can't comprehend how you've become so mad at him that you'd go so far as to give him the cold shoulder. He won't know how to respond at first, but he will quickly become an angry, sulky ball curled up under the blankets on his bed. If it takes more than a few hours for you to come crawling back to him, things will start to change. Belphie will return to the common areas of the house, acting mostly the same as usual, and he will not spare you a second glance. Even if you stop ignoring him, well, two can play this game, and Belphie is absolutely petty enough to drag this one out.
After a day or two of you trying to talk to him, he'll relent. He'll feel kind of guilty, having worked through most of his anger while ignoring you. He'll probably text you a lot for the next day or two, just to ease some of his anxieties.
Diavolo
"I don't understand."
You can't do that. That's illegal. Next character.
Barbatos
"Hehe. What a troublemaker."
Barbatos likes it when you ignore him sometimes.
Barbatos will not change his behavior at all, ever. You could spend the rest of your life ignoring him, and he would simply accept it as one of those unfortunate circumstances life sometimes throws his way. He would prefer it if things didn't go down that way, though. Basically, he'll let you come to him whenever you've gotten over whatever it is you're upset about. What a king.
Solomon
"Hmm? Are you sure that's a good idea?"
Solomon will act pretty much the same as usual around you too. He'll point out that you're ignoring him to whoever else happens to be around and bemoan the situation, but he won't actively appeal to you. Instead, he'll orchestrate a scenario that traps you in a situation where he is the only person you can go to for help. As soon as you do that, he'll act as if nothing ever happened. If you resume the silent treatment, well, he can always come up with another scenario.
Are you still sure it's a good idea?
Simeon
"I didn't realize you were so upset. I'm sorry (that/if) I hurt you."
Simeon will either immediately understand why you are doing this, in which case he will apologize (using "that") or he will have absolutely no idea what's going on, and he'll still apologize (using "if") to be on the safe side.
If you don't show any signs of breaking, he'll enlist Luke's help to make you an apology dessert of some sort. And how can you stay mad at him when he's offering you angel food cake with such a sad expression?
Luke
😧😠😣🥺😢
Wh- Whaaa...?! How dare you ignore him! That's so mean! It must be all the demonic influences rubbing off on you! Stop it! Stop it or he's going to tell Simeon!
And then he'll go and tell Simeon. Simeon will probably tell him to just wait until you've calmed down. If he thinks you're being unreasonable, though, he'll probably have a talk with you himself. Really? Pulling the silent treatment on an actual child? Sure, he's a millennium old, but he's still a child.
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battymommastuff · 3 months
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The Other Side
Batmom x Batman, Batmom x Batfamily
Prompt: While digging through the attic, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd uncover a secret about their adoptive mother. A secret that reveals the true, and dark story of the most loved couple in Gotham City
!!TW!! - MENTIONS OF SA AND OTHER DARK THEMES
Part 1 Part 2 Masterlist
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!!DISCLAIMER!! - This likely won't be comic accurate (Obviously), but I did draw inspiration from the comics. If you are looking for something accurate, then this fanfic isn't for you.
You didn't get a chance to address the deep voice before a cloth was covering your face and the world went dark. A throbbing pain came next when you awoke. You were laying on a very luxurious bed. Looking down, you saw that you were still in your same clothing. Just a silk robe that covered your underwear. Your heart was racing as you looked around the room. Whoever lived here, lived in style. Everything looked as if it would cost you bodily organs to own. 
Before the shock could wear off, the two massive double doors opened, and a man walked into the room. A mask covering his face, and his eyes watched you carefully. Your body visibly shrunk as you stared at the intimidating man across the room from you, "Ms. (L/N), I do want to apologize for the rather harsh retrieval of you. We have to take precautionary measures these days." The man said while stepping closer to you. He stepped into the moonlight, and you finally saw every detail of his mask. A golden bird mask...no owl mask. What the hell is going on? 
"W-What do you want with me?" You asked, moving off of the bed once he got too close to you. The bed now served as a barrier between you and your kidnapper, but it didn't provide any comfort for you. All you could think of was being raped, and sold on the black market. Gotham City wasn't the safest city, but you never thought this would happen to you. How did this happen? There was always security watching over the bunk area every night to make sure this never happened. How did these men get in to kidnap you? Whatever the reason, you didn't feel safe with the circus anymore. 
"To give you a chance...a chance to be apart of something great. My organization works from the shadows to ensure the safety of our beautiful city..." Beautiful isn't a word you would use, but sure, "You possess a talent that could be beneficial to our cause." The man picked up a remote and turned the tv on. What played was several of your acts and some of your rehearsals. All taken from vantage points, and places that you wouldn't have noticed someone watching you, "We've come to realize that our organization is seen as a myth, a boogeyman. Many criminals fear us, and with your talents...we could harness that fear." He stepped around the bed and started making his way towards you once again. The fear you felt kept your legs from moving, so this time he got uncomfortably close to you, "Join us (Y/N). Join us and help us purge Gotham of everything that taints it." 
The Court of Owls. One of Gotham's scariest myths. You've heard whispers of them while spending days in the city. Some of your fellow performers even mentioned them once or twice. Everything you've ever heard was never good. This cult believes they are doing the right thing, but are harming so many in the process. You couldn't join them...you couldn't live your life in the shadows. What could ever be so wonderful about someone so full of darkness? It seemed that the man saw what you were thinking, and he backed away, "Such a shame...you would have been such a valuable asset. I'm afraid if you won't join us, then we have to do away with you. You will pose a risk to all of us." The man turned his back towards you, and you knew now was your chance. Grabbing the closest thing to you; a lamp, you hit him over the bed. The man dropped to the ground, and you ran to the window. Luckily you weren't too high from the ground, so you pushed the window open and climbed out. 
You could hear voices and yelling as you dashed into the dark, raining city. You hadn't a clue where you were going, but anywhere would be better than this. The circus would be the first place they would look, so you had to find somewhere new. You could hear footsteps behind you as well as some above you. They were after you, and they were fast. Thankfully, your breathing training worked wonders. Still you were no match for these skilled men. They managed to corner you into a dead end alley. This is it. The place where your dead body would be found. It all ended here. The vile smell of puke, piss, and garbage filled your nose as you looked around at the court members closing in on you, "P-Please...I promise I won't tell anyone. Just let me go." You pleaded, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears. From behind you were pushed to your knees, and you could see your reflection in the blade meant for your death. 
The member lifted the blade up, but before it could meet your skin...a rope wrapped around their wrist. With a scream, they were pulled into the darkness. It felt as if all sound in the city stopped...everything went quiet. You felt fear before, but this was a new level of fear. A fear that you never would forget. A black shadow flew by, grabbing another member. This caused the rest of them to ignore you, and turned their attention to their surroundings. Now would have been the perfect time to run, but your legs were screaming. The adrenaline was wearing off, and it felt like you couldn't move an inch. A bolt of lightning flashed through the sky, right as a shadow covered the alley...a shadow of a bat. The mysterious savior dropped down on one of the members, and a fight broke out. You could only watch in awe as your savior took down every single member without much struggle. Once it was over, the figure turned towards you. Again the lighting allowed you a glimpse of him. The bat symbol of his chest matched the one in the night sky. 
"Batman..." You whispered, with relief before your eyes rolled back and you slumped to the ground. Batman walked towards you, and gently picked you up from the ground. He didn't see any visible injuries besides little scrapes on your knees from being pushed to the ground. Even now you were just as beautiful as you were while performing. He held you close and summoned the Batmobile. No hospital in Gotham would be safe enough for you. He needed to take you to the batcave. There you would be safe, and he could question you. 
"Alfred, get the med-bay ready. We have a guest." Batman said into his comms, after sitting you in the passenger seat. Your head leaned on the window, but your lips were starting to turn blue. Judging from your attire, you must have been getting ready for bed. With one final look over to make sure you were secure, he raced off into the streets of Gotham to the batcave.
TAGLIST
@maxinehufflepuffprincess @tayswhp @rainycloud858 @luna-zendra-star @starlets-things @simpfourmarvel @kawaistrawberry21 @js-favnanadoongi @kodzukenmaaa @xxrougefangxx @pixviee @discocactus-world @b4tm4nn @minimoxha @crutoyu @nightw-izhu @legendarylearner18 @mangegeek17 @pixiedust0604 @that-one-fangirl69
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radiant-reid · 10 months
Note
A blurb on spencer with the audio thats like “I always thought you were the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen” and it’s to reader? :))
love this !! and i don't care if it's such a cliche image, I'm not going to stop
Spencer jumps when you slide the balcony door open. Even with the serial killer caught, you're all still on edge, chilly in the Alaskan spring.
"Sorry, I hope you don't mind me interrupting." You step forward and close the door to stop any heat from the fire escaping inside.
"Not at all," Spencer assures you, smiling softly to encourage you forward.
You stand next to him, looking out over at the hill and evergreen trees, everything with a fresh dumping of snow on it. The sun's just setting even though it's not too far into the afternoon, the sky beginning to turn soft pink and orange.
"Things were getting a bit tense inside." You laugh at the very recent memory of some passionate arguing.
"Prentiss and Morgan?" Spencer guesses. You confirm with a nod. "Hotch should add Uno to the list of banned games."
You laugh at the rare joke from him. "We're not going to have anything left now that Monopoly, Clue, and all card games are banned."
"We'll have to all play chess." He decides, matching his enthusiasm with a grin.
"Then you'll have to sit out so it's fair." You remind him with a smirk.
He pouts at that, not the answer he was after. A comfortable silence falls between you as you watch the sky changing colors. It's really like nothing you've seen before, and it's a nice reminder that there's still beauty in the world.
"It's just wow." You say softly, in awe.
"The stars will be out soon," Spencer notes. "They should be incredible. It's meant to be clear and there's no light pollution here like there is in DC."
"You looked it up?" You wonder. It's sweet, really, and his interest seems to go beyond adding to his vast general knowledge.
He turns to you to nod. "I'm going to come out after dinner to watch them. I've never seen anything like this in the cities I've lived in, and we don't get many cases in such beautiful, remote places."
You hum with your own nod. "You're right. Or..." Your curiosity doesn't allow you to resist the opportunity to segue the conversation. "Many beautiful people, like the deputy that's into you."
You're trying to disguise it as teasing him, at least then you can play it off as being teammates and friends, and you're desperately hoping he doesn't notice that you're tense about his answer.
His nose scrunches slightly. Maybe disgust, maybe excitement. "I wasn't looking."
"Not your type?" You ask, slightly alarmed again. You do share some similar traits with her, so if she's not his type, your chances are slimmer.
"I always thought you were the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen." He says sincerely, knocking the wind out of your chest. "So, no, Y/n, I'm not looking at anyone."
You take longer than you should to get over your shock. "You're serious?"
"Sorry, sorry." He quickly apologizes as his cheeks heat up more than can be accounted for by the cold weather. "That was weird. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."
"No." You rest your hand over his, hoping to calm his spiraling worry. "You didn't... just thank you. That's... the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."
"It's true." He reiterates.
Your smile deepens. "Can I come stargazing with you?" You ask. "I promise I won't distract you."
"Looking like that? Impossible." He jokes, flirtier than you imagine. It's like your reciprocation spurs him on. "But I'd love company... your company, specifically. Inviting someone else would be weird."
You chuckle. "Just me and you."
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milaisreading · 1 month
Text
Wedding day
Pairing: Itoshi Sae x Isagi's sister!Reader
Warnings: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open
⚽️Blue lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️
"Can you please calm down, sis? Everything will be fine." Yoichi said as he walked around the room after his sister. The older Isagi was panicking a little as she thought more and more about the whole wedding that was supposed to happen in an hour.
"You think?! Yoichi, what if I am not good enough? Sae is a literal football star and I am just-"
"The best sister and future wife. Exactly!" Yoichi quickly chimed in, annoyed that she had let the recent gossip on the internet get to her. While he did have sympathy for her, marrying a high profiled person lime Sae Itoshi wasn't nothing, he was also mad that she was doubting her own worth.
"Yoichi... You of all people know how the news are. They will nitpick on the most smallest things about me." (Y/n) sighed as she went over to sit on a chair in the room, Yoichi following close behind.
"What if they are right about me not being the one for Sae?"
"That's ridiculous! He loves you!" Yoichi argued again, but he knew it was useless. He wasn't Sae. The one whose opinion mattered the most right now.
"I don't know... What if I am just hindering him? There are so many better options than I am. Did you see all those models from Madrid who talk about him? What if I am not the one?"
(Y/n) held back a few sobs as Yoichi went to comfort her. He would be lying if he said he didn't expect the news to make such a huge deal out of the wedding. He did. But, seeing the state his sister was in just broke Yoichi. She didn't deserve all this stress now. Nor did Sae deserve to be doubted.
And, while Yoichi was comforting (Y/n), he didn't notice Rin peek into the room and catching some of the conversation the were having, and catching the distressed state (Y/n) was in.
'Shit!' The younger Itoshi thought as he slowly closed the door. He didn't expect to walk into all of that. While Sae was on cloud nine in his room, (Y/n) was over here distressed over some gossip.
'Wait? What gossip? Big brother never mentioned anything about that.' Rin wondered as he took his phone out to search for anything that remotely could mention either Sae or the wedding.
Meanwhile...
Sae was happily drinking the water Rin brought him earlier. The older Itoshi never expected to be excited over anything like a wedding. Well, he never saw himself marry anyone until he met (Y/n). The love of his life.
'Ahhh~ I am all excited for our future. I can't wait for us to finally tie the knot. Maybe even a few kids down the line, but that can wait for another few years. For now, I just want to enjoy my time alone with her.' Sae smiled softly and blushed, not hearing the footsteps approaching his room.
'My sweet (Y/n). She is so clumsy and cute. So adorable and always kind to me and others. I am so lucky to have found-'
"Big brother!"
Sae snapped out of his thoughts and looked over at the door as Rin walked in, looking oddly nervous.
"What's up with you? You are more nervous than I am." Sae joked but Rin ignored him as he kept on glancing between his phone and the older.
"Well..."
"Anyway, how is (Y/n) doing? How does she look? Bet as stunning as ever. She is so adorable."
Sae went on a ramble and Rin knew he had to cut it out now before he went into an endless loop with it.
"I... There is something you need to see, and I think you won't like it."
Sae stopped and raised an eyebrow at Rin.
"What do you mean?"
"It's about (Y/n). You didn't read any of the news some of the Spanish and Japanese media reported?"
"No. Why would I? They mostly say dumb stuff, anyway."
"It might be dumb, but the stuff nearly has (Y/n) crying right now."
Sae froze up for a moment and quickly took the phone away from Rin.
The younger Itoshi was used to seeing a lot of emotions on Sae, but anger, genuine anger was not one of them. The more Sae read through the articles Rin had found, the redder his face became and the more his eyebrows furrowed.
'I would pray for the reporters, but they deserve whatever happens next.' Rin thought as an eerie silence took over.
----
Once Yoichi had left the room to let his sister cool down, (Y/n) had finally realized how ridiculous it was that she was crying about these things. After all, if Sae really didn't want her, he wouldn't have asked to marry her. Right?
'I need to have more faith in him, and also be less sensitive.' She thought as she put down her phone, not noticing Sae walk inside.
"Why didn't you tell me about those articles?"
(Y/n) yelped , and turned around to see Sae walk into the room and towards her.
"Sae! You shouldn't see me before-"
"I don't care. Rin said you were distressed over what those journalists were saying. Why didn't you tell me about it?"
For the first time since they started their relationship, (Y/n) was left speechless by the anger Sae was radiating. Sure, she was used to him being angry over what Shidou would say at times, or even when he would lose a game. But, this was a different type of anger. It was more genuine than the previous ones.
"Why?" Sae's voice got softer as he grapped her hands into his, causing (Y/n) to turn red a little.
"I thought it was stupid to bother you with that. It's just me being sensitive-"
"It's not. The stuff those idiots said about you is disgusting, and I will put an end to it on my next interview." (Y/n) raised an eyebrow as Sae pulled her in closer.
"I thought you don't have one yet."
"I asked my manager the schedule me one after our honeymoon. As much as I hate going on these, this is a different circumstance."
"Oh? Thank you." (Y/n) said as she grew flustered, causing Sae to finally smile again and chuckle a little.
"Don't thank me for stuff like this. And, have a little more faith in me. I have my eyes only set on you."
"You are right, I an sorry. I know you do."
She smiled as the door opened again, revealing Sae and (Y/n)'s moms.
"Sar Itoshi! What did I say about seeing (Y/n) before the wedding?! And why did you make Rin guard the entrance?" Sae flinched at his mom's yelling as Rin could be heard apologizing to him from behind her. (Y/n) laughed a little as her mom tried to calm the other woman down, finding the whole situation equally amusing.
"Well, today is an eventful day." (Y/n) laughed, and Sae smiled at her.
'At least you calmed down.'
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flowercrowngods · 7 months
Note
for prompt tag!
28. i'm just getting comfy (would love if this was established relationship/domestic fluff.. perhaps one of them is sick in this... idk)
but also take your time 🫡🫂
in which steve is sick but that won't stop soft boys hours
When Eddie hears the sound of fuzzy sock-clad feet dragging over the hardwood floor, accompanied by a sniffle or two, he drops the book he's reading onto his chest, exasperated by his restless boyfriend who refuses to stay in bed after Eddie tucked him in — again! Ready to give him A Look and tell him to get back to bed, because whatever it is he needs, Eddie can and will get it for him, Just go back to bed, Stevie. 
But whatever words were on the tip of his tongue even just a second ago have disappeared at seeing Steve – the same way that they always used to when they've only been dating for a few months. Instead of giving him anything remotely like A Look, Eddie grins, and instead of exasperated, all he feels is immeasurably fond. Endeared. Fucking enamoured. 
Because Steve, in all his pale, sniffly-nosed glory, is standing in the doorway to the living room, blinking against the sunlight streaming in through the windows, painting everything golden and bringing colour back to him, too. But it's not the way the light catches on his skin that makes Eddie fall in love all over again in what Robin would describe the most pathetic way possible, no. 
The thing that makes Eddie want to propose on the spot, in sickness and in health, is the fact that Steve is wearing Eddie's woollen hat. The one Joyce knitted for him with thick, soft, dark brown wool a few Christmases ago, with two distinctive bat ears sticking up.
God, where did Steve even unbury that? 
And what business does he have looking so absolutely fucking adorable wearing it?  His glasses are askew, the hair sticking out from beneath the hat is tousled and greasy, and the bags under his eyes are stark against his sickly pale skin that makes his nose shine red. 
Eddie is about to die with how much he loves him. It’s like a scream lodged in his throat that he cannot let out, an urge that grows evermore to let the whole world know, to not rest until the last person knew about his endless, endless, endless love for this angel of a man. 
In sickness and in health. It is there, residing in the back of his head, and he almost says it out loud — but Stevie would kill him if Eddie proposed to him because of a stupid woollen hat with bat ears (Sorry, Robbie). 
“Baby,” he breathes instead, miraculously keeping a hold of his heart in this wave of affection that overcame him so suddenly. “You good? Everything okay?” 
“Mhmm,” Steve hums, though it’s more of a growl with how rough his voice is. He wipes at his face, almost nudging his glasses off his nose, and Eddie can’t keep in the chuckle that bubbles out of him. 
He’s about to get up off the couch and wrap the angel with bat ears in his arms, just because he can, but then Steve is already approaching him, the blanket thrown around his shoulders dragging on the floor just as much as his feet. There is something so young about Steve when he’s sick, something so vulnerable and raw that makes Eddie want to latch onto him and never let go. Protect him from the evil germs and the headaches they bring. It’s dumb. Stupid, really. 
Eddie doesn’t even try to fight it as he sits up and holds out his arms for Steve to fall into. He brushes kiss after kiss to his overheated skin as Steve cuddles into him, burying his face in Eddie’s neck and his hands underneath his shirt. 
They hum in unison, finding a sound for serenity.
“That’s my hat,” Eddie says after a while, breathing in his sick angel and feeling him melt in his arms. 
“Our hat,” Steve mumbles into his skin. "My turn to be Batman."
Eddie laughs, wrapping his arms tighter around him, giving in to the urge to hold, the urge to never let go. “You’re ridiculous, d’you know that?” 
“I did know that,” Steve says, and he somehow manages so sound proud of that. 
“Good, just making sure,” Eddie remarks, hiding his own grin in Steve’s cheek, nosing along his temple and the edge of the hat. After a moment of silence that they spend just holding onto each other, he murmurs, “You need anything?”
Steve shakes his head, winding his arms tighter around Eddie’s shoulders and leans into him; it takes him a moment to catch up with Steve, but eventually he lets himself fall backwards so they’re lying flat on the couch. 
“What are you doing, hm?” he asks, reaching for the blanket that has pooled around Steve’s legs and pulls it up again, wrapping it around his shoulders properly again. 
“I’m just getting comfy,” Steve rumbles, slowly and sluggishly wiggling and twisting on top of him until he stills with a satisfied hum that sounds a lot like a smile. 
“Good?” 
Another hum, affirmative this time, as Steve buries his cold fingers underneath Eddie’s body. “You’re warm.” 
“And you have a fever.” 
“Hmm. Still.” 
It makes him grin again, makes him want to burst and scream and cry and laugh endlessly. 
“Ridiculous,” he says again, no louder than a whisper, and Steve turns his head to press a kiss to the centre of Eddie’s chest. It’s as much of a No, you as Eddie’s going to get, and he cherishes it with everything he has. 
“I like that,” Steve says, half asleep by the sound of it.
Eddie reaches for Steve's glasses and places them on the coffee table, and tucks the hat back over his ears. When no elaboration follows, asks, “You like what, angel?” 
“That. Your voice. Feels nice.” 
“Yeah?” 
“Mhmm.”
“Want me to read to you? I think you might like this book, actually.” 
Another hum, another kiss — to his heart this time. “I like everything about you.”
“That’s what I wanna hear,” Eddie laughs, reaching for the battered copy of Momo that’s been one of his favourites since Wayne brought it home on a rainy night in ’85 and Eddie stayed up all night devouring it. 
“At the edge of the city,” he starts reading the blurb, to give Steve an idea what this is about and let him decide if he wants to listen in or just feel the rumbling of Eddie’s voice in his chest, “in the ruins of an old amphitheatre, there lives a little homeless girl called Momo. Momo has a special talent which she uses to help all her friends who come to visit her. Then one day the sinister men in grey arrive and silently take over the city. Only Momo has the power to resist them, and with the help of Professor Hora and his strange tortoise, Cassiopeia, she travels beyond the boundaries of time to uncover their dark secrets.”
Steve doesn’t react, but Eddie can feel that he’s not quite asleep yet, so he opens the book and starts reading from the beginning that he almost knows by heart. Somewhere on page seven, Steve takes to playing with Eddie’s hair, carding slow fingers through the strands in the gentlest way that is almost enough to distract him. Switching the book from one hand to another as his arms get heavy from the position he’s holding the book, he always has one hand drawing idle patterns underneath the blanket, between Steve’s shoulder blades. 
It’s a slow afternoon as the sun sets on them, painting them in golden hues of orange and rose. Once he’s sure Steve is asleep and the living room too dark to keep reading, Eddie puts down the book and sneaks his arms under the blanket, wrapping them loosely around Steve’s shoulders to follow him into dreamland.  
hope this lives up to what you had in mind! 🫶
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lesbianchemicalplant · 3 months
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unfortunately I'm a lot more lukewarm on cohost than I was previously. two main things I'll describe:
(1) the site's staff (a handful of devs) not only have public-facing accounts, they're actively fawned over, including by the popular users. you cannot even give feedback or request things on cohost without provoking sitewide consternation over “asking too much of the devs”. this has happened over and over again, including wrt basic accessibility features, and even like, asking for a timeline on when a Dark Mode would be made available
at minimum, I recommend checking out the staffers' blogs, looking for the people who are constantly fawning over them in the replies, and blocking them. that will at least get some of the most obnoxious users out of your way. but it won't even help that much, since—
(2) the userbase sucks. there are basically no commie bloggers on there, not even to the extent that there are on this small corner of tumblr. the site's users are twitter-style socdems who constantly pat themselves on the back about being soooooo “leftist”; meanwhile, they will harass you for being a “tech bro” and “stealing from artists” if you say anything remotely positive about any ai gen tools, let alone post anything generated through them yourself. the site is actually uniformly like that about AI panic specifically; the few people who weren't got harassed and driven away (yes, including some trans women). basically, it's populated by the kind of people who think stardew valley has an awesome anticapitalist message. that's almost every single user
both my gf and I were hopeful and have been watching how things have shaped up for about as long as cohost has been around. I'm not hopeful anymore. it's one thing to have as a backup, and there are still a couple of blogs whose posts about programming I enjoy. but I would strongly caution anyone hoping for it to be a viable alternative to tumblr :(
oh actually,
(3) the site has no search and very little discoverability btw. you can look at recent posts in a specific tag, but that's it. you will have to separately follow or check the tags #games, #gaming, #video games, etc. if you want to see recent posts about that. you can't just search Games and see posts where that's mentioned in the post's text. (maybe not the best example but you get what I mean)
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ineffable-suffering · 8 months
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Trauma-Dumping on your plants: The Anthony J. Crowley Chronicles
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This has been living in my silly head rent free for so long, I finally decided to slap it on here in hopes of thinking about it a little less (than three times a day. It's been years. I need to get over it.)
Also, I'm absolutely certain I'm not even remotely the first person to realize or post about this, since it's not the hardest of parallels to figure out. Alas, I still shall, because out of mind, out of sight and all that. So:
Let's talk about how Crowley is using his houseplants to work through his own Trauma of the Fall. Or, well, maybe not work through it per se, but more so roleplay it to give it somewhat of an an outlet because he never got over it. Lol.
It's not rocket science to figure it out and God Herself actually gives us a pretty spot-on explanation of it in her own narration.
Crowley's plants are perfect. They're, as God Herself tells us, the most luxurious and beautiful in all of London. He takes great care of them, waters them, mists them. Does any and everything to give them the perfect conditions so they won't have a worry in the world.
And yet, we're immediately shown that despite the seemingly perfect conditions they're living in, Crowley's plants still get *gasps quietly* spots. And we all know how Crowley feels about that:
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It seems like such an unnecessary tiny thing to get upset about, right? Like, plants get spots all the time. They're not perfect, they're part of nature and nothing is ever perfect in nature. Crowley would know that by now. Imperfection is the whole point of nature. If everything had stayed exactly the way it always was, nothing would have ever changed or evolved.
Besides, Crowley is a demon. If it were merely about aesthetics to him, he could easily miracle away any spot with a blink of his serpent eyes. But he gets so angry about it, it's almost comical. At first we think it's just to show us, the audience, that, in contrast to Aziraphale, who cares very dearly and lovingly for his books, Crowley is a mean, mean demon who, instead of being outwardly nice to the things he loves (like Aziraphale does), yells at his plants because he's a mean meanie.
But! If you look at the whole scene and what God says, it's pretty obvious what he's actually doing is something else entirely: "What Crowley does is he puts the fear of God in them. Or, the fear of Crowley. The plants are the most luxurious and beautiful in London. Also the most scared."
Folks, this man dude serpent is literally roleplaying the concept of God/Heaven threatening angels with their Fall in order to keep them obedient ... with his houseplants.
Have I mentioned yet that I am absolutely obsessed with him and also desperately wanna get him a therapy voucher?
Because what does he do once he sees a plant disobeying his rules of perfection and acting out? The same thing God did to her questioning, equally disobedient angels (including Crowley): Parade it in front of the very scared rest, making an example of it ...
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... only to then, well ...
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... quite literally chuck it out.
To anyone else, this seems like a completely ridiculous thing to do over a tiny, minuscule spot. There would have been a bunch of other ways to go about fixing that spot.
Figuring out what it was the plant needed that might not have been given to it yet.
Taking care of it in a different, individual way so it would have been able to thrive again.
Listening to the plant and letting it tell you why its spot appeared in the first place.
Telling the plant, that loves and relies on you entirely, you love it too, despite it not being without fault, despite of it not fully living up to your unreachable standards of perfection.
Caring for the plant not because you want it to be perfect, but because you're okay with it being imperfect.
(We're no longer talking about plants here, as you are probably aware.)
Alas, this isn't what Crowley does. Because it wasn't what God did, either. We still know very little about Crowley's actual Fall and the Fall of Lucifer and the rest. But we do know that Crowley was never like or even with them.
All he did was ask some questions. A tiny spot. A seemingly insignificant blemish in the luxurious, beautiful flora of Heaven.
And yet, before he knew it, he did a "million lightyear freestyle dive into a boiling pool of sulfur". Cast out, chucked away, just like his little spotty plant. And for what? Well ...
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... to keep the others angels plants check, for the rest of time.
***
(Addendum from the comments: If we go by what the book tells us, Crowley doesn’t actually end up violently throwing out the ‚bad‘ plants. He just finds a different place for them and makes sure they‘re looked after. So much to him being a big, bad, meanie-mean demon.)
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solarsa1nt · 4 months
Text
𐚁֙࿐ CONFESSIONS
gojo satoru x male!reader
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Tags — fluff , kissing , love confession , blushing , questionable age gap but still legal
Notes — none
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"Y/N-senpai?" A familiar voice calls as the boy in questions blinks in surprise, turning towards the familiar figure.
"Ah... Itadori?" Y/N's head tilts to the side, frowning in confusion as he blinks the sleep away from his eyes.
It was, surprisingly, not some hallucination caused by lack of sleep. Itadori was heading down the hallway from where the kitchen was, a baggy t-shirt and shorts being in place of the uniform that he (along with most other students) were often seen in.
"You... shouldn't be up this late." Y/N frowns, lightly scolding the boy. "It's not good for someone your age."
"Huh? But you're only four years older than us, right?" Itadori asks, sounding uncertain if he was right now that he's said it aloud.
"Which means I'm legally an adult. Either way, it's my cursed energy's fault so not much I can do to fix it..." Y/N frowns slightly before sighing, shaking their head and looking up at Itadori with a neutral expression.
"Whatever, just get back to bed." Y/N suggests, glancing out the window to briefly look towards the entrance of the school.
Itadori gives the older boy a hesitant look but eventually nods, sparing one more concerned glance before continuing down the hallway towards the dorms.
Silence falls over Y/N now that his kouhai had disappeared down the hallway.
"...Why do I even bother waiting for that guy?" Y/N mumbles to himself with a tired sigh, turning on his heel and walking towards the main room of the dorms.
Plopping down on the couch, Y/N leans against the armrest, tugging a blanket over his lap as he grabs the remote.
After clicking on a streaming service and putting on the first movie to pop up— it happened to be some animated movie titled 'Your Name' —Y/N slumps further back into the couch.
About halfway through the film, his half-asleep state was interrupted by a door loudly opening— whoever opened it obviously uncaring of who they would wake up with the clatter.
"Mh...?" Y/N turns towards the door tiredly, glancing towards the door to see a familiar white-haired sorcerer standing in the doorway.
"Oh... you're back." Y/N yawns, raising a hand to cover his mouth before stretching out his arms, letting the joints pop satisfactorily before he sets them down again.
"Ho? Is my favorite watching movies without me?" Gojo walks over to lean on the couch behind Y/N.
"Stop being so blatant about your favoritism..." Y/N sighs, ignoring the warm feeling bubbling inside of him with the knowledge that he was Gojo's favorite.
"Y/N is just too cute!" Gojo teases, patting the boy's head affectionately.
"Egh..." Y/N grumbles, leaning away from the touch as he focuses back on the movie, watching the scene play out impassively.
A comfortable silence rests over the two as Gojo walks around to sit next to Y/N, throwing his arms over the edge of the back of the couch.
"You don't even have half of the context for the movie." Y/N points out, bringing his knees to his chest and crossing his arms over them, resting his head atop them.
"Hm? I'm sure I can figure it out." Gojo shrugs offhandedly, "I am the strongest, after all, understand a movie won't be an issue."
"Right." Y/N gives the man an unimpressed glance before rolling his eyes and focusing on the movie once again.
Colors flicker across the television screen— a meteor falling through the sky over the small town as a girl watches with widened eyes.
Y/N wonders what it'd be like to witness something like that, something so colorful and bright that it makes the entire sky seem to glow...
"Y/N." Gojo's voice interrupts Y/N's musing, his tone light but still holding an unusual amount of seriousness.
"Hm?" Y/N glances up at the man, feeling the six eyes burning into his figure through the blindfold.
Gojo stays silent for a moment, expression unreadable with his lips drawn into a flat line— it turning up into a small smile after seemingly finding whatever he was looking for.
"I love you."
Y/N blinks in confusion, wondering vaguely if he misheard but ultimately knowing there was no denying it— the words were far too clear; far too confident to be anything other than a confession.
"Oh..." Y/N feels his ears burn as he mumbles the words, unable to muster up anything other than a simple; "Okay."
At his lack of a proper response, the blush only spreads across Y/N's face further, turning his head away to hide the redness.
He should answer, Y/N knows that, but his first response was embarrassing enough that he honestly doesn't trust whatever might come out of his mouth next.
Unfortunately, Gojo didn't seem to agree with his plan.
"'Okay'?" Gojo's grin widens as he leans forward, no doubt seeing the fluster that spread across Y/N's face.
"Y/N~" Gojo chimes, an almost scolding lilt to his voice— as if Y/N were some misbehaving child. "That's not an answer, you know."
"Uh—" Y/N panics, leaning back further as a dizzy feeling spins around in his skull from the sheer closeness of the two— noses nearly touching as Gojo's lips hover inches away from his.
Y/N's breaths come in shallowly, everything feeling all to much and the bastard infront of him wasn't even—
Y/N reaches his hands up towards Gojo's head, simultaneously pulling part of his blindfold up and pushing his head downward— their lips finally connecting.
Y/N glares into dangerously beautiful blue eyes that were gleaming with satisfaction.
His head gets tilted back as a tongue enters his mouth without shame— Y/N not bothering to fight back as he allows the man to continue his ministrations; too content with the feeling of them being so connected.
A breathy whine forces it's way out of Y/N's throat at the rough pressure against the top of his mouth— soon slithering down to move elsewhere as if Gojo was trying to find something hidden inside his mouth.
Gojo pulls away, a lewd string of saliva connecting their lips as Y/N huffs— cheeks burning a bright red as he looks up at the man's smug expression.
Gojo's lips (still wet from their mixed saliva, Y/N realizes absentmindedly) were curled upwards into a lazily grin, crystal-like blue eyes half-lidded as he watches the younger man below him intensely.
"You're such a pervert..." Y/N sighs, turning his head on it's side in another feeble attempt to hide his expression.
"Is that a yes, then?" Gojo asks— his voice annoyingly playful despite their previous actions.
"You— obviously." Y/N grumbles, embarrassed from having to admit even after the heated kiss shared between them.
"Ha~ I'm so glad!" Gojo slumps his body atop Y/N's, earning a strangled yelp from the younger boy.
"Wh— Ugh! Get off me!"
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© 𝓢OLARSAINT 2024 ─── all of my works belong me alone! do not copy, steal, plagiarize, or spread any of my works in any other social media platform. these have only been reloaded on my own accounts on ao3 and wattpad
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talaok · 11 months
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Hey . First I wanted to say that you are my favorite writer on tumblr ❤❤
And I wanted to ask if you can write a pedro × reader where the reader wakes up in the middle of the night finds pedro starring at her?
I don't know how to develop it but I loved the long things you write ❤
I honestly don’t know what to say, thank you so much for saying that, really ❤️❤️
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It wasn't a habit, it was sort of just... ok it was a habit.
Pedro was an awful sleeper. Falling asleep was hell, and even when he did, most times he'd find himself waking up in the middle of the night.
That's how this "habit" had started.
Usually, when he had trouble sleeping he'd get out of bed and either start his day at 4 in the morning or watch tv until the sun came out. But since you moved in with him... he found something else he liked to do much more.
As creepy as it sounded, he like to watch you, he liked to admire the peaceful look on your face as you dreamed, he liked to observe your chest inflating and deflating slowly, hell, he even liked watching you snort once in a while.
And tonight was no different.
The clock marked 3:35 and his eyes were on you, his heart warming at the thought that you were his, that for some miracle, he had found someone as perfect as you.
that's where his mind always went, as he watched your parted lips suck in slow breaths, he would wonder what he did to deserve this, to deserve you.
And this time, he was so hypnotized by the tiny movements your mouth made, that he didn't even notice you opening your eyes.
"Are you staring at me?" you finally asked after some time, your voice hoarse with sleep, and yet sweet as ever.
His eyes shot up to yours, a tint of panic in them.
"shit-sorry, I didn't mean to wake you"
"you didn't" you reassured him, snuggling closer to him, and placing your head on his chest "You didn't answer me"
A small smile tugged at his lips, there was no point in denying the obvious "I was. I was staring at you"
"why? Did I look funny?"
"no, not at all" he rushed to say, moving some hair out of your face as he stroked your cheek "You just look beautiful... peaceful"
You blushed and could only respond with a kiss.
"I love you" he murmured against your lips
"I love you too" you promised, before leaning away
"You can't sleep again?"
"I slept for a while, but I woke up"
"I'm sorry" you pouted "You want to do something?"
He raised an eyebrow suggestively and you smiled, shaking your head.
"Not that, we went to sleep just four hours ago baby"
"Alright," he sighed, "then what?"
"I don't know, we could... watch a movie"
"You're gonna fall asleep by the time the opening credits start, sweetheart" Pedro laughed "Go back to sleep baby, I'll find something to do, don't worry"
You gasped, feigning offense "I'm not gonna fall asleep"
"sure you aren't"
you raised yourself, grabbing the remote from the bedside table "alright, bet" you challenged, turning the tv on.
"what do you wanna watch?" you asked,
"Whatever you want to, sugar" he sweet-talked, his tone still a bit mocking.
"We can finish watching Nights in Rodanthe"
"sure," he said.
You put the movie on and as you turned back, he was watching you with an amused smile.
"c'mere,"
"Why, so you can make fun of me?"
"no, I'm sorry, you're right, you won't fall asleep"
"that's right" You nodded, satisfied, as you nuzzled up against him "It was just one time"
more like ten
"I know" he spoke, his voice warm and gentle as his arm kept you close "Don't worry"
"mh-mh" you nodded lazily, your eyelids suddenly a thousand pounds each, and his chest comfier than any pillow.
He grabbed the blanket to cover you, and by the time he looked back at you, you were already gone.
He smiled to himself, as once again, he remained enchanted by you.
By the time the movie's end credits rolled, he was still looking at you.
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ctheathy · 3 months
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Hello, I hope you have a nice day! , I would like to request a headcanons of yandere nine x reader being kidnapped by doctor eggman
Yandere Nine w/ Darling who got kidnapped by Robotnik
Nine x Reader
Yandere Headcanons
Short Concept
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Author's note: You, my dear reader, are all out for the drama and I'm here for it~!
Nine/Reader [Romantic Tendencies]
[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]
Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :
Possessiveness • Nine is so traumatized omfg- • Eventual PTSD • Age regression • Overprotective behaviour • Poor mental state • Paranoia • Emotional dependency • Trust Issues • Insomnia • Violence
Pfft. If Nine wasn't already considered severely unhinged before, he most certainly will be right now. Oh how much terror the fox would feel in the pits of his stomach, the horror in his eyes, the helplessness in his heart. He most certainly would have never allowed this to even remotely come forward if he were the one to be in your presence. But... he wasn't. The whole team would have felt this immense sense of hesitance and dread to even tell him about it, having noticed his attachment and emotional bond towards you... and when the words slip from Sonic's mouth, not ready to test the nine-tailed foxes’ impatience, he cracks. And not just any regular burst of anger, he has a complete mental breakdown.
Nine will be nothing less than a ball of angst and fright at this point, something which he desperately tried to cover up with an infuriated facade, despite his evident worries from your abduction. But none of that would matter in the end, because he'd behave completely berserk one way or another. He doesn't dare rest or waste time for that matter until he can hold you in his arms again. Likely as soon as they reach The Chaos Council to try and bring you back... Nine would not hold himself back, still taken over by his violent meltdown. Instead of trying to avoid the Council's eyes and enemies that are in the way, maintaining a low profile as he'd say, he releases all of that pent up malice.
Though he'd leave many of the his robotic opponents onto the grounds ...torn to scraps by the fierce abilities of his mechanical tails, Nine would be surprisingly merciful to any living mobian for the sake of getting answers on where you're being held hostage. Because remember; although venting out some of his frustrations during the fight was equal to his hostility towards those who just so happened to be in his way, this mission is not and never will be about assassinating every enemy he comes across for the sake of just hurting them. It's all just to release you from The Chaos Council's grasp, take you back to his workshop where you rightfully belong ...bring you back to him. An objective and promise he will never allow himself to forget ever again after seeing your frightened face and body.
Even after he does get you back to the team, and he will no matter the costs or sacrifices he has to offer. But although you're back home, safe.... His paranoia will continue to linger and remain at its highest. Though the wounds you obtained through your abduction will eventually heal, his trauma of your kidnapping won't for a very long time. The side affects seemingly starts off small through your perspective, and you probably wouldn't even know how much it deep down affected him. Especially as the amber fox just seems to want to stick closeby you, seeking for comforting reassurance and some guidance to get himself back on the right track, which you more than understand and accept with open arms.
But what if I told you that he just got much, ...much more insane and delusional than you may think after you got taken away like that. It was like a newborn kitten being taken away from its mother right after birth, one whom he'd desperately cry out to and crawl after. To Nine, it wasn't just the idea of losing that happiness of having somebody to care about, but this also re-activated his defense mechanism to his past trauma.
Kill or be killed.
Nine's whole mentality practically returns to that of his younger self, almost similar to an age regression... You'd probably also notice the changes in demeanor, how he's practically almost behaving like a juvenile again. Decisions are made more so out of instinct rather than rational, logical thoughts. Which, to you, is something completely foreign and out of character for Nine.
His overprotective impulses would kick in at full force and he'd be quicker to lash out, along with his pessimistic mentality and stress being multiplied in the process, which is something his already poor mental state is absolutely not emotionally capable of handling. Even with you just not being in his eyesight can leave Nine with severe anxiety. His emotions are quicker to flow over, resulting in either anger outbursts or crying... And he practically treats you as if you were actively dying from a disease, constantly thinking of and mentioning the “what ifs”.
There would be many restless nights where he wakes up in the middle of the night, teary-eyed after a dream vision or isn't even capable of drifting off into a slumber at all. The simple thought of you ending up hurt and scarred while he wasn't there to protect you keeps his nerves excessive and senses on constant high alert. Even just the consideration in itself can leave him in a condition of hysteria for the next half hour, unable to calm himself down. These sudden exchanges of panic making you realise just how inconsistent it is, as Nine was usually known as collected, self-assured... in control of the situation. Something you'd consider the other side of the coin of how he was operating at this very moment. A complete and sudden reverse swap in his very identity.
Making you pray... that this was a crutch you could hopefully help him grow out of
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vampworks · 2 months
Text
Satisfaction
Loki x Vampire! Reader
MINORS DNI
Word Count: 1.4K
Warnings: Blood, Vampirism, Smut, language, angst
A/n: the first bit of spice I've written and omg I don't know how to feel about it. Anyway, vampires ima right?
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Stalking the halls of the tower, I never felt so lonely until now. The thirst has all but consumed my nights. Sleep had long since been completely off the table as the hunger set in, leaving me with a pair of red eyes and a screaming pit in my core, slowly haunting the same rooms I used to run through with a smile.
Today’s failed mission flashes through my head as I pass the kitchen. Creeping into cabinets and the fridge as I remember the sheer joy ripped away from me as my “meal” escaped. I slammed it shut and heard Steve lecture me on discipline on the jet all over again. It’s like he actually wants me to starve. After all of Bruce’s testing and the grueling rules, my insides seem to rip and tear within me. This was my chance to finally feel even remotely full. All of nothing.
I heard faint snores, hushed voices, and the clink and clang of metal in the lab beneath my feet. One sound rang louder than them all whether it was a blessing and a curse, the soft beat of their hearts. It brought me closer to them most nights. It reminded me that they were all okay.
I found myself silently counting the beats of Bucky's heart on the roof. It was grounding whenever I heard it. His very presence was grounding. He looked at me differently from the rest of the team like he actually understood me. I knew I’d be able to rest with him. The team was still uneasy around me because of my new 'condition' but not him. Im tempted to join him until the sound of a familiar, honeyed voice filled my ears.
"Hello, little bat." He whispered into my ear. "L..Loki," I sighed. He lets out a sly smirk as I shiver. “Out for a late-night snack?" He teased. I can hear his heartbeat slow as he pulls away, but it quickens again when my eyes meet his. “Listen, I won't play games with you tonight. I’m starving and all I can hear in this damn tower is blood rushing through my veins, so please let me just wander around in peace.” I placed my hand on his chest to push him away, but he held it there. His face is void of emotion, but his heart betrays him as it continues to beat rapidly. My eyes trace his sharp features down his face and fall onto his throat. The thought of sucking him dry crossed my mind. Maybe I could play his game this once.
“You’re more like me than you think.” His words brought me out of my trance. “What’s that supposed to mean.” I hissed, and his grip on my hand tightened. “It means, My pet. Neither you nor I will ever be satisfied going on like this.” He cooed. Loki’s other hand traces down my arm, only to rest on my waist. His breath grows heavy and desperate now matching the loud drum of his heart.
I want all of him now. I knew it was the hunger speaking, but I will deal with my own heart’s desires later. I could tell his heart was calling out. Begging for an embrace or at least a source of warmth. He might just be right, satisfaction always seemed just out of reach. A single eternal moment passed before I gained the strength to respond. “What do you suggest we do about that then?” my voice dripping with need as I speak. Loki’s façade of excellence was falling, but the remnants stood fast in his posture and grip on my waist.
Ever the royal gentleman, even in such desperation. He stumbles on his word for only a second before proposing an exchange of warmth. "Genius, is it not?” He stammered. I stifle a laugh “It’s brilliant, Watson.” I tease. His smile was sickeningly sweet, but his dark green eyes begged for something more. I held my breath as I pulled him into me by his collar. "Jump.” He commands. I obey and am pulled into his arms. His heart beats as if it’s a heavy drum threatening to burst through his chest. I waste no time laying kisses upon his lips and down to his throat. The sound that erupts from him is heavenly. “You are mine,” I whisper into his ear. A jolt runs through his body as he takes off into a sprint to his room with me in hand.
In a second, my back falls into his black satin sheets. He quickly crawls on top of me with his left hand, caresses my cheek, and shifts his weight onto his right hand. His knee ever so gently pushed on my inner thigh just to be closer. My own hands wrapped around his neck. My fingers tangle in his long, dark curls. I swear I hear the slightest whimper as my rings tug on a braid within them. Feverish kisses linger as if the next could not come fast enough. His lips, raw with a crimson tint, now begged for me to bite them. My fangs nip at his bottom lip as his left-hand gathers my shirt up my back. The taste isn’t nearly enough, as my senses are clouded by him.
All around me is him. His honeyed voice rings in my ear while his touch burns like fire, despite his skin feeling like ice. My mind fogs as I slip from his grasp and flip him on his back in a single swift motion. I take my seat on his lap, looking into his dark green once more. I find his eyes blown wide, staring back into my red ones as our chests chase our breath in tandem.
“Dammit, every inch of you is breathtaking.” He says in a hoarse tone as his hand takes the purchase of my waist once again. My smile widens and I grind down into him. “God, I say the same for you.” My eyes trail down to his chest as my hands slide up his arms to rest on his shoulders. “Let me be one with you… Please, my love.” He pleads. I can only nod as a whine escapes my throat. “Not quite. Use those pretty words of yours.” He commands, his hand now holding my chin up to meet his gaze. “Fuck...yes, please, I want you.” I pleaded. In a green flash, all the clothes that withhold my warmth from him are gone, leaving only the two of us in a world all our own. “Perfect little dove, all for me.”
Shadows wrapped around my aching body, soothing and teasing anywhere they could reach. They slowly lifted me onto the tip of his length. All that can be heard throughout the room is a string of curses and gasps for air from us both as he sets a ravenous pace beneath me. “Such a beautiful little thing you are, aren’t you.” He rasped. I feel his entire body tremble, and my eyes squeeze as I slam down on him repeatedly. “Good, just like that.” He praises. “Give in to me.” The two of us grew delirious in the thrill of it all as we grew closer to release. "Loki, please” I begin to beg. “Please let me taste you.” My words were barely sensical as my body ached for him. “Oh God Yes, I am yours to devour.” The shadows dissipate as I nuzzle in his chest, and his pace falters as my fangs graze and puncture his skin. I fed from him feverishly as he ruts into me, his grip on my waist is so tight leaving dark red marks in its wake. I moan in pure ecstasy at the taste and feeling.
Time stands still as we reach the very end. A flurry of moans and whimpers ring between us while satisfaction finally sets in. Tears began to fall from my eyes as the hole in my chest filled with warmth. After coming down from the high, Loki begins to unravel the two of us from the sheets. He lays me beside him, only for me to burrow into his chest once again. His arms wrapped around me, and he hummed sweet nothing into my hair.
After a moment, Loki began to lift me into the air. “While I love nothing more than to stay here with you forever, I fear we must shower, my dear.” I only respond with a muffled whine. “My apologies, my sweet. A bath, then? I fear no one is sleeping anymore anyway.”
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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months
Text
stay for a while
for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is being late to work' and for @steddieholidaydrabbles pop-up event for Valentine's Day
rated e | 815 words | tags: post-sex afterglow, dirty talk, established relationship, domestic fluff
💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖
"You gotta go faster," Steve panted.
"I'm not the one riding me, sweetheart," Eddie replied, equally out of breath.
"Put your back into it."
So Eddie gripped Steve's hips and put his back into it.
When Steve collapsed on top of him, Eddie's cum coating both of their stomachs, they both sighed.
This was the first time they'd managed to have sex in nearly a week. Their schedules were awful lately, and any time they did manage to spend together was usually asleep.
But Steve managed to wake up before his alarm this morning and Eddie was already naked and hard and one thing led to another...
"I'm gonna be late if I don't get up and shower," Steve sighed.
He loved his job as a guidance counselor, but the early mornings sucked. Especially when Eddie didn't have to be at work most days until nine.
Maybe he could call in sick or something today.
"I could join you..." Eddie's teeth nipped his neck teasingly. "Work you up while you wash your hair. Suck you off until you can't feel your legs. Maybe fill you up again and lick you clean."
If Steve's cock wasn't trapped between them, it probably would have given a valiant effort at getting hard again.
"Babyyyyy."
"What?" Eddie kissed his jaw. "I just wanna make up for all the time we've missed this week."
"I know," Steve sat up and looked down at Eddie's sweat-slick chest. "It'll be better next week. I won't be on afternoon pick-up duty and won't have senior meetings to go to."
"And I won't be stuck at the studio with this fuckin' singer who thinks I don't have a life outside of him and his lackluster songwriting skills."
Steve smirked. "Tell me how you really feel."
"I would, but I wouldn't wanna ruin the afterglow, Stevie. You look fuckable."
"I look fucked. There's a difference," Steve leaned down to kiss his forehead.
"Not to me," Eddie pouted. "I could fuck you again. Real quick. Won't even know I'm there."
Steve snorted. "Why are you so horny this morning, Jesus Christ."
"Don't blame him. I just always want you. You're like a potato chip: one is never enough."
"Wow. What a line. I'm melting into a puddle," Steve's monotone voice was interrupted by Eddie's loud laugh. "I'm gonna go shower before you try something."
"But...we still have 30 minutes before you have to go."
Steve glanced at the clock, jumping up and yelping when he realized Eddie hadn't even pulled out all the way yet. "Shit!"
"What?"
"I have a senior meeting this morning! I have less than ten minutes!"
Steve tripped getting out of the bed, his legs still wobbly from riding Eddie for the last 15 minutes.
"Reschedule it!" Eddie yelled after him as Steve ran into the bathroom and started the shower. "Call in sick."
"Not happening! It's Hannah; She's freaking out about college applications as if she won't get in everywhere she applies and if I cancel, she'll spiral," Eddie made his way into the shower as Steve spoke, nodding along to his words, but focused mostly on the way the water was dripping down his body as he rushed to wash his hair. "And then I have a faculty meeting with the rest of the counselors to discuss how we'll implement the new afterschool senior study group because the school board said we can't legally call it a study group unless it's 100% sanctioned by the students, which is just incredibly stupid and also not even remotely important! Like, we're just trying to make sure they can pass their finals, why does it matter what we call it?"
Eddie leaned in to kiss Steve's lips softly, just enough of a brush against them to make him pause.
"Sorry," Steve sighed. "Didn't mean to ramble."
"You know I love when you do, Stevie," Eddie smiled at him, grabbing the shampoo bottle from the shelf to get started on his own hair. "I just hate seeing you so stressed. Kinda wanna help relieve that stress some more."
"Baby, I love you, but if you touch my dick right now, I will murder you."
"Ouch," Eddie clutched his hand to his chest. "Straight to murder over a little handjob in the shower?"
"If that's what has to be done for me to get to work on time."
Eddie sighed. "Fine. I won't touch you. But I'm gonna be sad all day about the lost moments we could've shared."
Steve finished rinsing off the soap on his body and turned to give Eddie a quick peck on the lips. "We can share some moments tonight. Promise."
"Okay, okay. Get out before you're late."
Steve was still late for work, but mostly because he still insisted on packing Eddie's lunch while he was in the shower finishing up. No job was more important than that.
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gothghostiie · 5 days
Note
All your thoughts about Graves are amazing!! What if dear reader is his happy little shy housewife that decides to be bold and wear lingerie for his welcome home surprise- except he brought home a couple of close shadows with him to celebrate... so now you're being punished in front of them because Graves HAS to show his men his wife is his alone~ 🩵
thank you honey!! you have no idea how much it means to me 🫶🏻
cw: domesticity kink, exposure, light degrading, praise, creampie, teasing nipple play, talk about edging;sharing, spanking (ass and pussy), fem!reader, this turned out longer than I thought - not proofread
neither of you expected what the other one did - Phil didn't expect his usually so prim and proper, shy little wife to suddenly rock up in nothing but lingerie; you didn't expect him to bring some shadows home after a mission. usually he liked being alone with you, but usually you also wouldn't be waiting in that gorgeous, blue negligee, considering you only just bought it. you sat there in his armchair, legs crossed with the matching nylon socks being held up by lacy garters, heart racing when you heard the door unlock - face dropping when you heard the chuckles of multiple men. you panicked internally, frozen in your seat until it was too late to cover up, until he stepped in with his shadows behind him.
his face dropped briefly, eyeing you over and seeing you look at him like a deer in headlights - he couldn't help but grin. arms crossed over his chest, all of them still in uniform. "Well, what do we have here? if that isn't my sweet, little angel.." he hummed, carrying a note of sarcasm in his voice. you stuttered, stumbling over your own words for a good ten seconds before he shook his head and stopped you with a simple wave of his hand while walking over to you. slowly, Phillip bent down, hands on the armrests of his favourite chair, caging you under his gaze. "you wanted to surprise me like this? what happened to my innocent little darling who blushed when I even mentioned anything remotely kinky?" that same blush crossed your face again, making him laugh. "missed me so much while I was gone you had to throw yourself at me the second I came back? like a little slut?" he hummed, just loud enough for the others to hear. you blushed more, pressing your thighs together as he spoke, especially during the last word. he had never called you that, anything but darling, sweetheart and the like for that matter. but now he called you a slut in the most loving tone and christ, you'd be lying if you said it didn't make you wet.
"I- I'm.." you tried to speak but no sentence would form. he chuckled lowly, the shadows were now in the room but still kept their distance in case graves wanted them to leave. naturally he noticed it, noticed your eyes darting to them ever so often. He gave them a brief look before suddenly grinning, pointy canines on display as he turned back to you.
"should punish you for being so naughty darling.. I'm sure you won't mind the boys watching, do you? since you seem to love being on display like that.." he hummed, looking into your eyes, looking for any sign of hesitance. he saw the brief fear that got overrun by excitement, not to mention the way you rubbed your thighs together. "I'll take that as a yes." he said, suddenly grabbing your wrist with his gloved hand, pulling you out of the seat with ease. his other hand offered the shadows to take a seat in the living room, none of them hesitated even one bit to sit down. you glanced over at your husband, who dropped into his seat with a low groan, keeping you standing between his legs. "how about you get us all some drinks first, hm?" he asked, but it wasn't a question. you quickly nodded, cheeks still burning as the men told you what drink they'd like, you vanished into the kitchen. that wasn't something out of the ordinary, you usually liked making yourself useful for him and his friends.. just not almost naked with your nipples peeking through the thin fabric. with shaky hands you carried the tray back to them, handing everyone their drink - last but not least Phillip, who took the glass and patted his knee. "Sit."
without hesitation you sat down, making him smile in satisfaction. "you're such a dirty little thing aren't you? I can feel the heat from your pussy through the gear." he teased, his free hand snaking between your thighs, gloved fingertips grazing the damp fabric. you blushed, gripping the hem of your negligee tightly while refusing to look at him, or anything but the floor for that matter. "look at you, so shy suddenly." his fingers slowly pushed down on your clit, making you tense up. he chuckled at your reaction. "stand up. show the boys what I get to touch whenever I want." a shiver ran down your spine, yet you obeyed him like a dog. you stood up, even doing a little spin, the men eyeing you like hungry wolves. Phil meanwhile nodded, his semi pressing against his pants slightly. "over my lap." he commanded, you obeyed again. this wasn't a first, the two of you had tried some stuff and spanking is something that definitely stuck. slowly, almost teasingly he removed his gloves, putting them aside on the coffee table. "I'd say it's a shame to have to punish you but I'd be lying doll. I love it when you beg for mercy." with that the first smack landed, making you gasp for air. a few more followed rapidly, making your ass jiggle, your pussy growing more and more wet with each slap.
the men watched the whole thing go down, slowly growing hard and palming themselves through their gear - Phillip had laid down the ground rules while you got drinks, but you didn't need to know that. especially not when he landed the final, harsh strike, making you cry out. "stand up and show them how red your ass is. show them what happened when you're a naughty slut." he hissed, you obeyed with butterflies in your belly. you stood up, backside turned to the shadows as your fave burned in embarrassment, glancing at Phil briefly. he caught the look and gave you a reassuring smile. "so pretty, isn't she?" he hummed lovingly, pulling you in his lap again. this time your back was laid against his chest, his calloused hands sliding up and between your thighs while his lips peppered kisses over your shoulder. he was just about to speak up when he reached your panties, but instead raised an eyebrow. "oh? did someone enjoy her punishment?" he taunted, not even giving you time to think before forcibly spreading your legs, damp panties on display.
you cried out, shaking your head and hiding your face behind your hands. "i'-i'm sorry Phil, I didn't mean to, i-" he cut you off.
"now this won't do. looks like I'll have to punish that pretty pussy too." he hummed, before you could register it he began spanking your pussy too. every slap drew a loud whine or moan from you, legs twitching, pussy only drooling more. the first 10 slaps or so landed on your panties, the wet smack getting worse and worse, making him chuckle. "you're such a dirty little pervert angel.." he whispered, pulling the underwear aside to expose your sticky cunt, fingers rubbing between your folds. "I'm punishing you in front of my men and all you do is get wet and moan, not even showing remorse. I'm starting to think you wanted all of this, wanted to be showed off.." a smack landed on your bare pussy, making you cry out. "can't believe something so innocent and shy could be this dirty.." his voice was merely more than a low growl, boner pressing against your back as he landed another 10 smacks on your bare cunt, your slick dripping down onto his pants. by the last one tears of pleasure dwelled up in your eyes.
"Ph-phil.. please.." you whispered breathlessly. "can't take more.." your chest was rising and falling rapidly, hole clenching around nothing. your husbands hands slowly wandered up your torso until they reached your tits, groping them.
"oh? you can't take any more?" he asked almost sarcastically. "you want me to stop then?" he asked, yet you shook your head, trying to speak as his warm fingers slipped under the fabric to toy with your hard nipples.
"n-no.. I.. I want you.." you choked out in a shaky voice, nails digging into his thighs as you pressed your back against his chest. he laughed briefly, pinching your nipples lightly.
"say what you want. let them hear it." he whispered into your ear, nibbling right underneath it. you cried out, blushing in embarrassment as you looked over to the others, all of them with their cocks in their hands by now. you stammered, a soft sob escaping your throat as his grip on your nipples slowly tightened.
"i.. I want you to fuck my pussy.." you said shakily, almost crying from embarrassment - yet you wouldn't ever want to stop.
"fuck that naughty little pussy of yours?" he scoffed. "reward you after you enjoyed your punishment? seems a little strange, no?" he taunted, making you whine out. Phil chuckled, suddenly pinching your nipples tightly, speaking over you crying out. "beg for it." you hesitated only a moment before desperate pleas fell from your lips, begging him to take you. your voice was shaking, you were stuttering and fumbling with your words, him pulling yout nipples didn't help. only when they slipped out of his grip and your cried out loudly, arching your back he smiled, arms now wrapping around your waist. "good girl, there you go.. how can anyone say no when you beg so pretty?" he hummed, soothing you while one of his hands went to fumble with his belt. he peppered kisses over the side of your neck, nipping and sucking on it while you squirmed in his lap, moaning under his grip. only when he freed his cock and you felt the length against your back he stopped.
his hands snaked under your knees, with ease lifting you up and hovering you over his cock, tip just about grazing your still bare cunt, panties still pulled to the side. you peered down, breath hitching as he moved his hips back and forth, teasing you. "you ready baby?" he asked softly, no malice in his voice for once, just genuinely wanting to check in on you. you took a soft breath and gave him a nod, hands holding onto his forearms. he gave back and affirmative nod, kissing the back of your neck once before pretty much dropping you on his cock, the whole length forced inside your sopping pussy. you cried out loudly, arching your back as he growled, the feeling of your tight walls driving him insane.
"fuck, I missed your tight little cunt..." he muttered, hands gripping your lower thighs tightly to lift you again until he was about halfway outside of you, holding you there. he took a deep breath before slowly rocking his hips up into you, letting you get used to it. the feeling was intense, whether it was that he hadn't fucked you due to being away on a mission; or the eyes of the shadows burning into your cunt being split open by his cock. the thrusts were gentle but that didn't last long, he was growing desperate himself. no matter how hard he had tried to hold back, within minutes he was slamming his hips up into you, groaning and grunting while you were crying softly, drool running down your chin from the overwhelming pleasure. his fingertips dug into your thighs, feeling you become fully loose around him, the gushing sounds making his cock twitch. it didn't take long for you to squirm, getting closer to cumming with each passing minute. of course Phil noticed, he had seen it time and time before.
"you gonna cum?" he asked harshly, out of breath but refusing to slow his thrusts. "do you even fucking deserve that, slut? this was supposed to be a punishment.." his words made you shiver and clench, whining loudly. "should be so thankfulI'm m even fucking you right now.. should've just let the boys have their way with you.." his words made the knot in your stomach tighten by far, another sob escaping you. "shouldn't be letting you cum at all, should i?"
by now all your dignity and most of your shyness were gone, so almost naturally desperate pleas started falling from your lips. "please, Phil.. I gotta cum, can't take it anymore.. I'll be good I promise.. do anything you want.." the words made a chill run down his spine. even if he wanted to he couldn't hold back now.
"fuck.." he muttered, hand reaching towards your pussy to give it a good smack, you cried out. "cum for me doll.." he huffed through gritted teeth, fingers now rubbing your clit. within just seconds your eyes rolled back, all your reservation gone as you came over his cock, head falling back, whole body quivering as you drooled. incoherent thank yous spilled from your lips as he fucked you through your high, chasing his own - which luckily for him didn't take too long, especially with your sweet cries. he dropped you down on his cock again, the whole length disappearing inside you as he bit your shoulder hard, drawing a final cry from you before he came deep inside you.
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starryeyedjanai · 9 months
Text
you and me and a lot of bad decisions
steddie | explicit | 8k | chapter 1: 1994 - i'm only human
read on ao3
written for @thefreakandthehair's summer challenge!
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Steve swears he doesn't know how he ends up in these situations.
One minute, he's applying sunscreen to Eddie's back like a good friend, and the next, they've got their hands down each other's pants, breathing harsh breaths and groaning as they get each other off.
It's true that maybe Steve has been a little pent up for a while. He hasn't had much luck dating recently, and working as a guidance counselor is stressful. He's had a tough school year and even after it ended, there was no outlet for him to pour any of his anxious energy into. Robin was still working because "not everyone gets the entire summer off, Steve!"
All of his friends still have to work and he's disillusioned about trying to date someone new after his honestly awful track record.
Last summer, he dated a woman and she was nice and tried to get along with Robin, but Steve knew she didn't understand their relationship, didn't get that she was someone who would always be in Steve's life, regardless of if he has a partner or not. So things got ugly in the end, because she threw out an ultimatum that Steve readily answered - just not in the way she wanted.
So, he's hesitant to try again because most people won't get it, won't get that Steve and Robin are a package deal, do-not-separate, kind of thing.
So between all of his friends still working and not being remotely interested in dating, he's been a little lonely.
He's been cooped up in his apartment being antisocial because this school year has taken so much out of him that he feels like he could sleep for a month.
The one thing he had to look forward to was this vacation.
The sun, his friends, no obligations for an entire week? It sounded like heaven.
And it starts off fine enough. Their hotel is nice, has a nice pool area that opens up to a private beach.
They all get in around the same time, so they make their way to their rooms to drop their stuff off. They're all sharing rooms because it makes more sense to split the cost rather than everyone getting their own room.
He's sharing with Eddie because while he would normally share with Robin, she and Nancy have finally got their shit together and started dating after putting everyone through the misery of watching them awkwardly flirt for years now.
He and Eddie are friends - he thinks. Kind of. After everything, they have so much tying them together that they kind of have to be. They share all the same friends, they live in the same city now and grab drinks together with Robin and Nancy, they spend holidays together with everyone.
While it's true that they're kind of friends, he can admit that he's a little nervous to have so much time alone with Eddie because they just don't normally hang out alone.
He, Eddie, Robin, Nancy, and Jeff were all on the same flight, but Eddie and Jeff took a separate cab to the hotel since there wasn't enough room in the other one. Steve's cab driver was apparently taking the scenic route because he gets to the hotel room and Eddie is already inside, pulling his shirt over his head, getting ready for the pool, it seems.
"Hey, man," Steve says, dragging his suitcase inside. Eddie's already claimed the bed by the window, so Steve drops his sunglasses onto the other bed and grabs the suitcase stand from the closet.
"Hey, man," Eddie parrots back.
Steve opens his suitcase and starts pulling some of his clothes out to put in the drawers.
"Oh, fuck, Steve, tell me you're not one of those people who unpacks on a vacation," Eddie says, watching him open up the empty dresser drawer.
It's rhetorical, Steve knows, but he still answers, "And what's so wrong with that?"
Eddie just shakes his head and says, "You would be the type to make even vacations harder on yourself."
Steve rolls his eyes. "How am I making things harder on myself? What do you do? Just leave your stuff in your suitcase and dig through it everyday to find what you need? How is that easier?"
"It's less work than making sure all your clothes are perfectly folded and in the drawers," he says pointedly.
And- okay. Steve hadn't even realized he was re-folding the shirt in his hands, but he just likes when things are tidy and neat. What's the harm in wanting his stuff to be tidy?
He stuffs the rest of the shirts into the drawer and closes it.
"Are you going to the pool?" he asks, changing the subject.
Eddie grins over at him, gesturing to the swim trunks in his hands. "Very astute, Mr. Harrington."
He drops trou and Steve takes maybe a second too long to look away. He just wasn't expecting to see Eddie's dick so early on in this trip. Not- not that he was expecting to see it at all, you know? Just, he wasn't expecting it.
"Mind if I join you?" he asks, grabbing the trunks from his suitcase. He grabs the rest of his shorts and underwear from the suitcase and puts it in a drawer - he's not going to let Eddie teasing him stop him.
"Sure, the more the merrier. You know what room Nancy and Rob are in?"
"Ah, yep. Or, well, I know they're on the eighth floor, not sure the exact room number. I told them I'd meet them in the lobby before dinner, so that'd give us enough time to unpack and get settled."
He hears Eddie rumble about unpacking on vacation as he steps into the bathroom to change into his trunks. He makes quick work of it before peeking around the bathroom. This hotel is nice, much nicer than last year's disaster. He thinks Robin working at one of the sister properties back in Chicago is probably why they were able to get such a good deal.
He steps out of the bathroom and puts his travel-day clothes back in his suitcase. He rubs sunscreen on his face and shoulders and thinks about calling it a day. He doesn't really need to put it everywhere, right? It's just gonna wash off when they get in the pool anyway.
"Hey, you wanna help me put this on my back before we get down there?" Eddie asks, holding out the sunscreen bottle in his hand.
Eddie doesn't seem to have the same skepticism about putting sunscreen all over, Steve notes as he looks him over - his arms and legs have that sunscreen sheen to them.
He must not say anything for a beat too long because Eddie asks again, impatiently, "Can you get my back or not? Time's ticking, we're wasting daylight."
"Oh, sure, sorry," Steve says, shaking his head, taking the sunscreen from him. He pours some in his hand and steps closer as Eddie turns his back to him.
He looks at the wide expanse of pale skin on his back for a second before he slaps the handful of sunscreen in the center of Eddie's back and Eddie arches away from him for a second.
"That's so cold!" he says as Steve spreads the sunscreen down his back and Steve snorts.
He maybe grabbed a little bit too much because it takes a long while to rub it in. He rubs harder, trying to make the white-cast disappear.
He hears Eddie groan and he pauses. Did he hurt him?
"Sorry," Eddie says when he realizes Steve's frozen behind him. "That just, that felt good."
"This?" Steve asks, digging his palms in harder. He doesn't know why it makes his heart speed up when Eddie hums in agreement.
It's just- it's been a while, since he touched anyone like this. There's so much skin on display, so much pale skin beneath his fingers. He can't help but dig his thumbs in a little as he rubs, turning this into something closer to a massage than spreading sunscreen. The white liquid has all but disappeared, but Steve keeps rubbing, keeps digging his fingertips into the muscles of Eddie's back.
He can't even say how long they stand there, Steve's hands on Eddie, working his thumbs into the muscles there, listening to him sigh and groan at his touch. He rubs up and down on his back and he listens to the little sounds Eddie makes when he hits a good spot and it- fuck. He realizes this is making him hard.
Now the speed of his heart beating makes sense. He's turned on. He's getting hard from putting his hands on Eddie. All this warm skin, the noises he's pulling from him, it's all doing it for him.
"Everything good back there?" Eddie asks, pulling Steve out of his stupor. His hands were frozen on Eddie's back. The air in the hotel room is cool on his skin, but he still feels overheated in the moment.
He realizes he needs to answer, needs Eddie to stay turned around because when he looks down, he's visibly hard in his swim shorts - they're tight, the fabric pulled tight around his cock, leaving very little room for interpretation on what's going on here.
"I'm good, just stay there for a sec?" He takes a couple steps back, his hands falling away from Eddie's skin, leaving him cold in comparison to the way the warmth just seems to be rolling off Eddie's skin.
Of course Eddie doesn't listen. He never listens.
He turns around as Steve is backing up, a thousand thoughts floating through his brain, the number one thought being am I into Eddie?
He swallows hard as Eddie looks at him, sees the moment Eddie notices. His lips curl up, cocky, and he's looking directly at Steve's crotch.
"Oh? Big boy, indeed," he says, and Steve can't even find it in him to roll his eyes because Eddie can't tear his eyes away.
Steve's never shied away from someone looking at him - he likes the attention, likes having eyes on him like this. When Eddie looks back up at his face, Steve sees the hunger there, knows he's wanted.
And he's never been good at making decisions that don't bite him in the ass, so he steps forward, closer to Eddie again.
It's a bad idea, his brain is telling him.
But he's looking at Eddie's mouth and his chest and his tattoos and his goddamned pierced nipples.
Fucking friends is a bad idea, his brain is shouting at him.
But he's stepping closer anyway, feeling the heat seeping from Eddie's skin once more. He wants to touch him. He wants to put his hands on him again. It feels like all the air has rushed out of his lungs, like he can't breathe through the want.
He doesn't know how to make the first move here, where he's so incredibly unprepared for what's about to happen, but luckily he doesn't have to.
Eddie hooks his first two fingers in the waistband of Steve's shorts and pulls him forward, gets their hips aligned, nearly pressing together.
He looks at Eddie's face and realizes how close they are, leaning in towards each other like this.
"Yeah?" Eddie asks and Steve knows he should back away, knows he should laugh it off, make some joke about accidentally getting hard from touching him.
But Eddie's fingers are still dipped into his waistband and Steve is sweating about it. His brain is short circuiting because five minutes ago he was utterly unaware that he was into Eddie like this.
He had no idea that he wanted to feel his skin against his like this, feel the skin of their chests brush.
Eddie's chest is sunscreen-sticky and Steve wants to get stuck to him.
When they're pressed together, flush from chest to waist, Steve feels him, really feels him. He's hard too. Hard from Steve touching him, maybe, or from knowing Steve wants him. Either way, feeling his cock brushing his through only a couple layers of thin fabric is making Steve's scalp prickle like a shiver wants to run it's way down his back.
"Yeah," Steve whispers, shifting his hips forward minutely and biting back the groan that wants to escape.
Their thighs slot together and he takes in a shaky breath. Looks from Eddie's lips to the metal glinting on his chest. He knows it had to have hurt. Did Eddie like it- the hurt?
He knows his face has to be flushed by now. He feels sweaty and red and somehow Eddie's still looking at him like he wants to eat him. It's really doing it for him.
Eddie takes his fingers out of Steve's waistband and Steve doesn't even get a second to mourn the skin to skin contact there because Eddie is cupping Steve's dick through his shorts.
It's such a tease, just Eddie's hand cupping him, no real pressure. Steve pushes himself forward into Eddie's hand.
Eddie lips twitch up again into a smirk, like he's having fun with this, like he likes teasing Steve, getting him a little desperate.
Steve tries to hitch his hips forward again, but Eddie moves his hand back to Steve's hip, herds him backwards until he's backed up against the dresser.
"Is this okay?" Eddie asks, tugging at the waistband. Steve's not exactly sure where this is going, what Eddie wants from him right now, but he nods. If it gets him touched, he wants it.
Eddie grins at him and shoves his hand down into Steve's swim shorts and wraps his hand around Steve's cock. It's suddenly a lot all at once.
Eddie's hand is warm, but his rings are cold to the touch. He's never had someone touch him while wearing rings before. It's not something he's ever had to consider before, whether he's like the feeling.
He does. There's something about the texture difference between the smooth, hard surface of the rings and the softness of Eddie's palm. His fingertips, when he rubs the head of Steve's cock with his thumb, when he wraps his hand around the length of him and strokes, feel rougher than the rest of his hand, callused from years of playing the guitar, Steve guesses.
He drops his head back and groans at the feeling of Eddie stroking him.
The rings are a contrast to Eddie's warm skin, and every stroke is making Steve want to come on them, get them wet with it. It's dizzying, making Steve a little crazy, thinking about coming on Eddie's rings. That's never been a thought that crossed his mind before, but he can't get it out of his head now that it's there.
Eddie strokes him from root to tip, slow and measured, and the only thing Steve can do is sigh about it, bringing his hand up to Eddie's hip.
He looks at where his hand rests on Eddie's hip. Steve's been sunbathing, for lack of anything better to do, recently. His skin is tan and golden and Eddie's skin is so pale in comparison.
This is all so much. And they've barely done anything at all.
"You wanna touch me?" Eddie asks, pulling him out of his thoughts, and Steve nods. He wants to touch him so fucking bad.
He can feel Eddie's breath on his lips, they're so close. He wants to lean in and put his tongue in Eddie's mouth, sloppy and wet the way Eddie's thumb feels on the head of his cock.
He shoves his hand down Eddie's swim shorts instead. They're tight too, like his, so his hand barely has space to move.
But he feels him, gets his hand around him, and he's- he feels big. His cock fills out his grip nicely, it's thick, a good length.
He breathes out a heavy breath as he strokes Eddie's cock. The tip is already wet, pre-come pearling there, getting Steve's hand all sticky when he rubs his palm over it on the next upstroke.
Eddie moans, sharp and sudden, when Steve's thumb catches on the underside of the head of his cock, and then it's like all bets are off. Whatever perceived notion of taking it slow has faded, quickly.
Their hands are moving fast on each other's cocks, grips tightening, like they're in a race to the finish. Like who can hold off the longest?
And Steve still wants to kiss him, almost feels like he has to. He doesn't want to stand here in the middle of their hotel room and touch Eddie, be touched by him, and not know what his mouth feels like against his.
But it feels like it would be a step too far. Like it would snap Eddie out of it, Steve pressing his mouth against his, trying to push this into something it isn't.
Their mouths are close, they're already sharing the same breath, practically. It would be just a hair of a movement that would get their mouths slotted together for real- he wouldn't even have to move much. It still feels too far a space to cross.
Eddie makes the decision not to kiss him even easier when he dips his head to bite at the juncture of Steve's neck.
"Don't leave any marks," he says, breathless. He can't show up to dinner with hickeys on his neck.
"I won't," Eddie says, licking at the spot he bit.
Steve feels close already and it feels too soon. It feels like they just started and Steve is tensing up, ready to come.
Eddie pulls his mouth away from his neck and Steve whines.
"Just," Eddie says, ducking back down to press his mouth quick against his neck again, his breath warm and damp on his skin. He presses a kiss there and it feels more intimate than the situation allows. "We just- I only have two bathing suits and I can't get come on one of them the first fucking day."
Steve nods. Anything, anything- he'll do anything to get Eddie's mouth back on his skin, his hand back on his cock.
He feels like he knows what's coming, and he sucks in a deep breath, at the thought of them pushing their shorts down, at the thought of them rubbing their bare cocks together. He wants it. He wants it more than he's wanted anything in a long time.
He shoves Eddie's shorts down and lets Eddie do the same to him. He looks down and groans. Fuck.
Eddie's cock is red and wet and Steve wants it in his fucking mouth, wants to lap at the wet head, taste his pre-come. He wants Eddie to come in his mouth, wants to roll it around on his tongue.
But Eddie's wrapping a fist around both of them, his hips thrusting forward like he can't stay still and that's good enough. That's more than enough to have Steve riding close to the edge again - feeling Eddie's cock snug against his own in the grip of his hand.
Their foreheads are pressed against each other as they look down at their cocks sliding together in Eddie's fist. It's like he can't look away - it's captivating, the rough slide of them together in Eddie's palm.
He puts one hand on Eddie's neck, the other hand back on Eddie's hip, pulls at him like he can drag him closer even though they're already as close as they can get.
"Fuck. Can't believe the rumors about your dick were true," Eddie whispers, his gaze still glued to their cocks.
"There were rumors about my dick?" Steve asks, switching between looking at their cocks and looking at Eddie looking at their cocks. The feeling swirling in his stomach is so much, and he's so goddamn close.
"Mhm," Eddie hums. "Prettiest dick in Hawkins."
That makes Steve groan, his hand tightening on Eddie's hip.
"Oh yeah?" Eddie asks. "You like being called pretty? Like knowing people are talking about how pretty your dick is?"
He doesn't know why that's what does it for him, but he's coming, just rocking his hips forward, squeezing the hand that's on Eddie's hip until it's probably bruising, and coming all over Eddie's cock. He looks down again, watches it get all over and that makes him twitch even harder. He didn't know that was a thing for him - any of this.
But watching his come get everywhere, all over Eddie's hand and his rings and his cock makes Steve shiver with the sheer amount of possession it strikes in him. He likes his come marking Eddie's skin. He likes Eddie not stopping even for a second, just stroking Steve through it and trying to get himself off with his come-slick hand at the same time.
The sound of Eddie's hand still going, so wet with Steve's come, is obscene in the quiet of the hotel room.
It makes Steve want to get on his knees. He wants to drop down and put his mouth on Eddie, taste his own come on Eddie's cock, lick at it until the taste of salt is gone, keep going until Eddie's filling his mouth with his own salty come.
But he's still catching his breath, still trying to reckon with all of this, when Eddie gasps this perfect little ah sound and comes, getting his fist even slicker. Steve's straddling the edge of overstimulation as Eddie's hand tightens to work himself through it, his grip turning the pleasant aftershocks sharper, meaner.
As Eddie comes down and loosens his grip, Steve brings his hand up to Eddie's chest and touches the metal going through his nipple. It's warm. His skin under Steve's fingertips is so warm. He tugs at it, pulling a groan from Eddie's mouth.
His cock twitches where it lays, still touching Eddie's, still messy with both of their come. It's way too soon to be thinking about more, to be thinking about again, to be seriously considering getting on his knees to clean Eddie up, maybe keep him warm in his mouth until he gets hard again.
He lowers his hand back to Eddie's waist, moves to rest his head on Eddie's shoulder, and closes his eyes.
"Fuck," Steve whispers into the quiet of the room after a minute, only the faint hum of the air conditioning reminding him where they are.
"Mhm," Eddie agrees.
"We just-" Steve cuts himself off, because he still can't quite believe it.
"Mhm," Eddie hums again.
"And it was-"
"It sure was," Eddie says, his clean hand stroking down Steve's back. It's comforting and grounding, having Eddie's still touching him like that, knowing that Eddie's not going anywhere right now.
The room is actually pretty cold, so having Eddie's warm hand running up and down his back is soothing. It makes him shiver just as much as the cool air on his hot skin.
They have to clean up soon or the come will dry uncomfortably in his pubes, but he takes another minute to bask in it. Because in a minute he has to evaluate whatever the fuck just happened. He'll have to look Eddie in the eyes and figure out what the hell this was and how to move forward from it.
He's known Eddie for over eight years now, and nothing like this has ever happened before - Steve's never wanted anything to happen. He had never even considered him an option before.
It's true that they aren't the closest of the bunch - they never really got the chance to get close because Eddie left Hawkins pretty quick after he recovered from the bat bites. He was out in San Francisco and then LA for a couple years, so he and Steve didn't really get the chance to get to know each other.
They'd talk on the phone sometimes to catch up because they were beginning to become friends before he left, before everyone kind of split up. With Steve following Robin to Chicago and Eddie in California, they only ever really saw each other for the holidays at the end of the year, which wasn't exactly enough to foster a deep friendship for them.
It's only recently that Eddie and his band moved out to Chicago, maybe a year or so after Nancy did.
So they've hung out more this past year than they had in the past, but it was still mostly hanging out with their group of friends rather than them hanging out one on one. They'd sometimes go to the bar after work together to de-stress, but unless everyone else was busy, they were rarely alone together.
He thinks he would know if he was secretly into him, is the thing.
He obviously knows Eddie's attractive - the same way he knows his other friends are attractive - but that's never translated into wanting to stick his hands down his pants. Until now.
Something about the ambiance, the liminal space of a hotel room, being all alone with his hands all over Eddie's back- something about that flipped a switch in his brain.
Because standing here, panting into Eddie's shoulder and coming down from an orgasm he was wholly unprepared for, he still wants.
He wants to push Eddie down onto one of the beds in here and grind on him until they come again. He wants to feel Eddie's cock against him again, in him, maybe.
When they pull apart, he doesn't know how they're going to handle this.
There's still so much want running through his body that he's sure Eddie can tell, can see it on his face.
They make their way to the bathroom to clean up and Eddie helps him, dabbing a washcloth across Steve's sticky stomach like it isn't something totally domestic. The warmth in Steve's stomach isn't arousal right now, watching Eddie take care of him like this - it's ooey gooey squishy feelings that Steve is sure didn't exist an hour ago.
He doesn't know how this happened so suddenly, the onset of these feelings, the rubbing off against each other like they've done it before, like they've mastered the art of dry humping against each other until they're desperate with it, breathing heavy against each other's mouths, lips never quite touching.
But Steve lets Eddie clean him up, lets him dab a wet washcloth over the head of his soft cock, lets him tuck him back into his shorts, like this all isn't tugging at his heartstrings, making him feel something he can't quite name yet.
They don't say anything in the bathroom, but when they walk back out into the bedroom, Eddie grabs his sunglasses and asks, "We still goin' to the pool?" kind of like nothing happened between them at all.
Steve blinks at him.
"Yeah, yeah. Uh, lemme grab a towel," he says before grabbing the beach towel he packed.
They walk down to the pool and Steve claims a couple of chairs while Eddie dives straight in.
It's fine.
The way the water glistens off Eddie's skin when he resurfaces makes Steve think about putting his tongue on him to lap up the wetness.
But it's fine.
The way the sunlight glints off Eddie's nipple piercing makes Steve want to touch it, pull at it again, see what noises he can get Eddie to make.
But everything is fine.
The way Eddie looks at him with hooded eyes like he knows exactly what Steve is thinking about makes Steve a little dizzy with the want that washes over him.
But it's probably fine.
Right?
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They head back inside after a while of Steve being utterly unable to take his eyes off Eddie in the pool, and Steve knows he's in trouble.
Eddie calls first shower and Steve sits there with his head in his hands for the better part of Eddie's ten minute shower.
How does he get himself into these situations?
He hates not knowing what to expect, wishes he had a manual for what to say and do right after you hook up with your friend.
He doesn't know how to be normal about this the way Eddie seems to be able to. It feels like Eddie is somehow accustomed to hooking up with his friends and Steve doesn't know what to do with that. He doesn't know how to handle any of this.
Does Eddie do this a lot? Does he have friends back home that he hooks up with? Does it just mean nothing to him? The way he's able to just walk it off and appear totally normal is grating at something in Steve. He wishes he could be normal about this.
He's spiraling and he doesn't really know what to do.
When Eddie walks out of the bathroom, Steve tries not to stare, but he's only human. It was bad enough at the pool, but he's sure Eddie is teasing him on purpose now, towel hanging loosely off his hips, water still dripping down his chest, his skin pink and soft looking.
Steve holds back the groan of frustration and slips into the bathroom to shower before they meet the others for dinner.
Unlike Eddie, Steve took his clothes into the bathroom, so he changes in there instead of walking out into the room in just his towel like a harlot.
Robin eyes him suspiciously all throughout dinner, like she can somehow tell he was up to no good, but doesn't know exactly how yet. She always seems to know when something's up with him, but he doesn't think he has the words to say anything about this to her right now, or at all while they're still on vacation. He doesn't even know if he'll have the words when they get back home, because he knows she's going to want to know what's going on with him.
Robin's somehow even more suspicious the next day.
They're late to the lobby the next morning to get breakfast with the others because Eddie slips into Steve's bed as he's swatting at the alarm on the nightstand.
He turns around and Eddie is right there, right up in his space, saying, "You wanna?" and placing a hand on Steve's chest.
And Steve does want to.
So they do.
Steve is still groggy from sleep, but he still pulls Eddie on top of him, he still presses his mouth against Eddie's neck, awake enough to remember to not leave marks there. It's slow and sleepy and he comes in his underwear less than a minute after Eddie does, fingers playing with one of Eddie's nipple rings, his other hand on Eddie's ass, urging him closer, closer, closer.
It's good and Steve still doesn't know how to come to terms with that. How is he supposed to go back to normal after knowing how good it can be with Eddie?
They're late because they spend a few more minutes in bed after they both come, breathing heavily into each other's necks. One of Steve's hands is still on Eddie's nipple, thumbing at the piercing - he's pretty sure that's a thing for Eddie, having it played with. And it definitely is a thing for Steve. He almost wants to go again, wants to put his mouth on Eddie's nipples and grind against him until they're hard again, until they're making even more of a mess.
They're late because after they brush their teeth together in the bathroom, Eddie presses him against the counter and puts his mouth on his neck. He puts his hand on Steve again, circles his fingers around his soft cock and strokes his thumb over it softly, gently. He plays with him for long enough for Steve to start to get hard again.
He's inching his hand down to where he feels Eddie starting to get hard again too. He's curling his fingers around the shape of him, wanting.
They only pull apart because the phone rings - the front desk calling because Robin and the others are tired of waiting for them.
They rush to get changed and they make it downstairs and Steve tries to act normal.
The skin of his neck is sensitive and red from Eddie's facial hair, which is now a whole 'nother thing that Steve can no longer think about without getting turned on apparently. Because now he knows what his mouth feels like against his skin, what the scruff on his face feels like against him.
So Robin knows something is up - either because she and Steve know each other so fucking well, it's obvious to her, or because Steve's not doing anything to try and conceal that he's making what are probably really bad decisions.
On the third day is when she finally says something to him about it and he was right- he just doesn't have the words to say anything about it, mostly because he has no idea what he's doing.
She says something because he's not being normal right now.
Because Eddie refuses to eat his ice cream cone like a normal human being.
He makes eye contact with Steve as he licks his ice cream like he wishes he was licking something else. It makes Steve's cock throb, which is unfortunate considering the entire group is together.
"Why are you looking at him like that?" Robin asks him with wide eyes when Eddie is briefly distracted and talking to Grant.
"Looking at who like what?" Steve asks, cursing the fact that Robin knows him so well, that they share a telepathic bond most days.
And- okay, maybe he wasn't being subtle. He can't help it. Eddie's doing it on purpose, lounging like that, looking like that, all spread out and -
"You're doing it again, dingus." Robin's looking at him with judging eyes when he tears his eyes away.
Steve lets out an exasperated noise. "I'm not looking at anyone like anything, Robbie."
She clenches her jaw and gives him an unimpressed look.
"I'll tell you later? Like when we get home," he says sheepishly, hoping he'll actually be able to. Because right now, he has no idea what he'd even say. We just happened to fall into bed together. Oh, actually, that was after we accidentally jerked each other off. How can he explain that?
Robin looks back and forth between him and Eddie a few times before she nods and says, "Okay, but you're telling me everything. And I mean everything."
Steve doubts she's going to want to hear all of the details of what he's been doing.
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This is their last full day here and Steve is maybe having an internal crisis about it. Because he doesn't know what's going to happen once they get home.
He has a feeling he's going to be extremely awkward about it when they get home. He doesn't know if Eddie will want to continue doing whatever it is they're doing or if it'll stop. Because they haven't talked about it at all.
They've just been doing things without talking about it and that isn't really something Steve's dealt with before. Even when he's had hookups in the past, they've established boundaries, called it exactly what it was, and when they were done, that was it. He's never had a week-long extended hookup and he's especially never had one with a friend.
He thinks it's probably going to come and bite him in the ass, not talking about it. Because he's going to get home and all of his friends are going to go back to work and he's going to be left alone to freak out about it, probably.
They spend the last day walking the pier and hanging out on the beach and he tries not to let it show how much he's currently freaking out. He thinks he manages to make it seem like he's a normal human being thinking normal thoughts and not about to spiral.
That night, their last night at the hotel, Eddie pulls a bottle of lube and a couple condoms out of his suitcase and looks at Steve meaningfully.
"You brought lube and condoms?" Steve asks, scrunching his nose up. "Were you planning on fucking someone in our hotel room?"
The thought upsets him more than he wants to admit. He can't imagine coming back to the room and finding Eddie with someone else, someone he sought out and brought back because he wanted to fuck them.
They've had plenty of opportunities to hook up with other people, is the thing, considering they're in San Francisco, and have been going to bars - straight and gay bars - and have been meeting up and hanging out with Eddie and the band's old friends from when they lived out here.
He hadn't thought about it, but now he's thinking about Eddie hooking up with those people he met this week.
It's entirely possible that Eddie could have wanted to take one of them or one of the many people he flirted with back to their room. Why didn't he?
Eddie grins at him and says, "I mean, you never know what could happen on vacation. It's not like I was planning on fucking anyone with you in the room. I mean, probably."
"Only probably? Jesus christ, Eddie," he says, rolling his eyes. He's not going to be jealous about this. He's not. He knows from Eddie's tone that he's joking, mostly.
"I'm kidding. But like I said, anything can happen on vacation, man, as evidenced by everything we've been doing," he says, the first time he's mentioned this thing they've been doing. He lobs the bottle of lube at Steve, badly, but he manages to catch it anyway. "We don't have to use them, by the way. We can keep doing what we've been doing, if you want."
What have they been doing? He wants to ask, wants to know what's going on in Eddie's head, but he also doesn't want to rock the boat. He doesn't know exactly what Eddie thinks is happening, but if he says something, it feels like it would put an end to things early. If this is the last night he has of this, he doesn't want to turn Eddie off by trying to talk about it.
He looks at the condom in Eddie's hand and pauses to think about it. He doesn't think fucking would change anything between them given everything else they've gotten up to this vacation, but he doesn't really want to have to sit on a plane for four and a half hours and be uncomfortable for the entire flight tomorrow.
This is probably the last time they're going to hook up, at least while they're here on vacation so they should make the most of it and make use of the lube at least.
So he says, "I- we shouldn't. Um, there are other things we can do with the lube, though."
Eddie looks at him thoughtfully and drops the condom back in his suitcase. How he even managed to find anything in the explosion currently coming out of his suitcase is a miracle.
"I could fuck your thighs," Eddie says, and a jolt of heat runs through Steve's entire body.
"You could fuck my thighs," he agrees and then goes to grab a towel to lay down on the bed.
The cleaning staff came by while they were gone and remade the beds, so Steve pushes the covers down on his bed and lays the towel there.
He shucks his pants and underwear and pulls his shirt off quickly. Eddie watches him with dark eyes, pulling his own clothes off at the same time.
Steve gets on the bed, turning to lay on his side, facing away from Eddie. He feels Eddie get onto the bed behind him, but he still jolts when he puts a hand on his hip.
Eddie smooths his hand down Steve's side and fits himself along Steve's back.
Steve's already starting to chub up, feeling the hard press of Eddie's body against him. That's another thing he's going to have to reckon with when this vacation is over - Eddie's body is insane.
He never really thought about it before, never really noticed it before. Gone are the days of Eddie being a lanky little beanpole.
With the passing years, he's started going to the gym and his body has more muscle mass than it did before. He's still lanky, but there's muscle there. There's strength and lithe muscles that have had Steve drooling over him for the past week now that he knows just what that strength can do - Eddie lifting him up and placing him on the edge of the desk in their room on the second night here so he could go down on him left Steve feeling shaky and had him blowing his load way too soon.
Feeling Eddie behind him, the press of his half hard cock against his ass, is making Steve kind of regret saying no to getting fucked. It's been a while, and he just knows Eddie would fuck him so right.
He thinks it's the right decision, though - he doesn't know how much more knowledge of how Eddie is as a lover he can take. He doesn't know if he'd be able to survive knowing what Eddie cock feels like inside him, how well he stretches him out, because he knows he would. His cock is wide, fills out Steve's palm so fucking nicely, and feel big when he's taking him in his throat when he's blowing him, so he knows the stretch of it would feel insane.
He feels Eddie press a kiss to his neck before he hears the snick of the bottle of lube opening.
He feels like he should have said something about Eddie having lube this entire time when he saw what was in Eddie's hand a few minutes ago. Because they've been trading spitty hand jobs for days when they could have had the slippery glide of lube on their cocks instead.
Eddie says, "Lift your thigh up for a sec."
So Steve does, feeling a little vulnerable in this position. Maybe they should have done something else or done this a different way, one where he had more control of the situation. Right now, he feels a little bit like he's at Eddie's disposal, like Eddie could do whatever he wanted and Steve would let him.
Eddie reaches between his thighs to coat them in lube before coating his cock. He nudges up closer to Steve, so he's pressed up more firmly against him and Steve lowers his thigh when Eddie's cock slides between his thighs.
Eddie groans, low in his throat when Steve tightens his legs together to give Eddie a nice, tight channel to fuck into. Steve shivers at the sound.
His hand is still coated in lube, so when he reaches around to take Steve's cock in his hand, it's slick and wet with lube, the slide is so nice, exactly the way he does it alone - nice and slick and tight around his dick.
There's a moment of pause where they just breathe together, caught up in it, caught up in the feeling of it.
And then Eddie starts to move.
The drag of him between his thighs is a lot - it's the girth of him pressing against him, nudging up behind his balls on every thrust. He's thick and he feels good between Steve's thighs, would probably feel even better inside him.
He knows it's a little too late to stop and say something like you didn't happen to grab that condom anyway, did you? because he knows Eddie wouldn't - Steve said no, and he knows Eddie would respect that even if he did want to fuck him.
Having Eddie so close to fucking him - the motions are all the same, with Eddie's thrusting against him like he would be if he were really fucking him, his hand wrapped around his dick - but not having him inside him is kind of torture and he's eating his words from before. It might be the smart idea, but fuck if he doesn't want to do the wrong thing right now.
He wants to feel the stretch of him, his hole quivering around him as he bullies his way inside. He wants to feel how deep he'd reach inside him, pressing in slow and measured and considerate like Steve knows he would. He'd want him balls deep, hips pressed flushed against him.
He's gasping at the thought of Eddie inside him, can almost imagine what it would feel like. Eddie's hand around him feels so fucking good - after days of giving each other hand jobs, it's like he knows exactly what Steve likes, how hard to grip him, how and when to play with the head.
The slide of him between his thighs, the feeling of him pressing gentle kisses to his neck, his other arm around Steve like a hug - it's all so much to take in.
He feels wrapped up in him, surrounded by him.
He can feel Eddie's heartbeat against his back with how close and tight they're pressed together.
He comes suddenly in Eddie's hand, gasping, his own hands gripping the pillow beneath him, shuddering through it. Eddie strokes him through it, his slick hand milking the come from him.
It's not the most intense thing he's ever done in the bedroom by far, but this orgasm leaves him feeling wrung out and shaky because Eddie's hand doesn't stop stroking him after he crests through his orgasm, pulling whines from his mouth at the overstimulation.
"Eddie, it's too much," he says, his hand coming down to grab at Eddie's hand still wrapped around him.
"You sure? I could wring another one out of you," he says and Steve's cock leaks at that, still hard, just another glob of come seeping out from the tip. His eyes roll back at the sharp, intense feeling of Eddie's hand being too much on him.
"Fuck, I don't know if I have it in me," he says, voice shaky. Eddie's still hard between his thighs, still thrusting, catching the underside of his sensitive balls every stroke.
Eddie hums in his ear, says, "We'll have to try that another time then," and stops stroking, but keeps his hand on him, cupping him, as he speeds up his hips, chasing his own orgasm.
Steve clamps his thighs together tighter and reaches his arm back to grip Eddie's hair and pull.
Eddie groans, setting his teeth against Steve's shoulder and biting. The edge of pain makes Steve's cock twitch even as it softens in Eddie's hand.
It doesn't take long for Eddie to get there, his come painting the inside of Steve's thighs as he thrusts shallowly and rubs the head of his cock between his thighs.
As they come down, Steve feeling sticky all over somehow, he can't help but think of the way they've come to know each other. He thinks about how intimately they've come to know each other's bodies.
He feels like he knows more about Eddie's body and how to make him come than some people he's actually dated.
He thinks about how Eddie's had his hands and mouth all over Steve, near constantly when they've been alone for this entire week. And how Steve has reciprocated, of course. How his tongue has come to know the shape of Eddie's barbell nipple piercings. How he's come to know the taste of him, the weight of him in his mouth. How exactly he likes his cock to be sucked.
That's not knowledge he should know about someone who's supposed to be a friend, he thinks.
He shouldn't know that Eddie's voice gets gravelly and low when he's about to come. He shouldn't know what Eddie's dirty talk sounds like. He shouldn't know that Eddie still cracks awful jokes even as he's getting his dick sucked.
That all feels like forbidden knowledge, something that he shouldn't be privy to.
But he knows it now. And he isn't sure how he's going to be able to go back to normal once they get home.
taglist (people who've expressed interest in the wip games): @stobinesque @scarcrossdlvrs @cuoredimuschio @steves-strapcollection @patchworkgargoyle @delta-piscium @matchingbatbites @kkpwnall @inairbinad @legitcookie @sidekick-hero @eriquin
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korechthonia · 5 months
Text
Once again, reminding everyone that
~*~Blanket Permission~*~
is the greatest gift you can give your friendly neighbourhood podficcer/artist/fan translator this holiday season, or maybe a great New Year's resolution too!
It's pretty simple - just put a sentence or two in your AO3 profile to tell someone who looks what they are free to do with your works - remix, fanart, fanmix, translate, podfic, bind - and what you would prefer they ask first or don't do. (The handy-dandy Fanworks Permission Statement Builder can help!)
And look, I can't promise it'll mean you get podfic or art or anything, but I can promise that it'll make it easier for the folks who make those kind of fanworks to find you and increase your chances of something turning up in your AO3 notifications one day!
AND if you do it and let me know, I will submit you to the amazing fpslist to help podficcers and other fans find you!
And if you have concerns or questions, well, I have a few answers, but I am sure there are more.
"But I only post drabbles!"
Podficcers love to podfic a drabble! It's short and sweet and easy to do. A good drabble might make a great subject for an artist! Maybe someone would be interested in turning it into a multichapter epic - all of those people would love to know if you'd like that, or even be remotely interested in hearing about it.
"But I don't want [fanwork type]!"
Okay! If you say so in your profile, you've just reduced the number of people who'll ask you! And they won't get their hopes up either, so they'll love it too.
"But they'll take credit for my work!"
I most certainly hope not - that would be plagiarism and very not okay. They'll only take credit for the work they did in transforming it! The "Inspired By" feature on AO3 makes it easy to credit, and author names are often found elsewhere in the post, on cover art, and in the metadata of the file.
"But it's archive locked for a reason!"
Say you don't want someone to transform your archive-locked works then, or request that podfics based on archive-locked fics are also archive-locked. If you're clear in your requests, people will be happy to follow them!
Any more? I'll be happy to add them to the post!
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