#but i suck at writing apparently

[every-aj-needs-an-angel]

Part 1 sorry this took so long, the heatwave melted my brain

It took far longer than either of them intended to make it to breakfast, mainly because once Eddie had finished making a mess of the both of them, he had insisted on washing Steve's hair for him, which honestly was the most blissful out-of-body thing that he'd ever experienced; but as the two of them walked down the boulevard together, brushing shoulders and for a lack of a better word, giggling, Steve couldn't remember feeling happier. 

Eddie had the most gorgeous smile and every time he directed it at Steve, god! he felt… lighter, like he could float away any second, but at the same time, just by that same smile, he knew without a doubt that Eddie had him tethered safely to the ground. 

And holy fuck if it wasn't just the best feeling! It wasn't something Steve had ever experienced before, because yeah, he's got Robin, but she's a steady kind of safety, he knows beyond doubt that they're two halves of a whole, she's his rock as much as he's hers and the day they met something just fell into place for both of them. And he has his little found family, he knows he can go home to them (or they'll come to him) any time, he knows he's safe in their embrace, like they're his shelter in a storm. 

But this is different, he barely knows Eddie, hasn't spent more than a few hours with him, but it's like Eddie has this protective bubble around them both, like they're floating along together in this impenetrable shield and the outside world means nothing when he's held in Eddie's gaze, and he just knows he's safe, he can feel it deep in his bones.

And jesus! when they kiss! He's never felt anything like it. It’s like he's filled with bubbles that not only pop but fizzle, like someone's dropped a bathbomb into his chest, letting it froth and effervesce, like it's rolling and twirling around churning up his insides in the most spectacular way, and he almost can't breathe because of it. 

It's fucking weird and glorious all at once. 

Too much and not enough and he never wants it to stop because he knows he's never felt this way about anyone before, hell he hadn't even known it could feel this way and it's kinda scaring the living shit out of him because what if the last few hours were all Eddie wanted, what if Eddie's here for a fun time and not a long time and Steve has to go back home and learn to live without feeling like this.

Eddie nudged him gently, snapping him out of his spiral into the abyss, his eyes landing on Eddie's warm affectionate grin, following his pointing arm to where Robin and Chris were in the cafe across the street, sitting in a booth by the window, leaning into one another across the table, deep in conversation and grinning brighter than the Nevada sun. 

Robin blushed deeply as Chris tucked a stray piece of her hair behind her ear, and Steve had seen that look before (usually aimed at him) but he'd never seen her look like that before, not with Jamie or Izzy and certainly not with Sammi ("Sammi with an 'i'", god he'd really hated her), because yeah she was blushing, that was nothing new, but she looked comfortable! She wasn't ducking her head, becoming all flustered and shy, no, she looked relaxed, confident even, like she'd known her forever. 

The pair were so engrossed in each other that neither of them even glanced up as the bell above the door jingled when he and Eddie entered. Robin completely missing the way Eddie’s hand fit so naturally into the small of his back as he guided him gently over to their table. Steve felt giddy from it, like he was floating on air! It was so incredibly intimate and a little bit possessive, like Eddie couldn't keep his hands off of him and Steve just knew it was going to be his main topic of conversation for at least the next century. 

Honestly, he couldn't even be that mad that she'd missed it, not when he saw how content and engrossed she was with Chris. He hadn't seen her smile that much since Vickie, which now that he thought about it was far too long ago for his liking. Normally on first dates she went for this cool, aloof thing, trying to push her real personality down for reasons Steve had never understood, but Robin was genuinely smiling, her real toothy, goofy grin as she chatted animatedly. 

And Chris seemed equally spellbound, eyes wide and nodding, giggly and captivated. Not that it was surprising to Steve, Robin had always had this otherworldly quality about her; his best friend was beautiful, anyone could see that, but if she was passionate enough about a topic, she seemed to glow and her voice alone became sort of mesmerising.

Like the one time they’d actually got to work early, during a particularly cold snap, and while they were waiting for Jeremy to open up, Robin had started to tell Steve all about Yetis and the difference between Bigfoot and the Abominable Snowman. Only what neither of them realised was that instead of having a ten-minute chat, they’d actually sat there for three hours. Unfortunately, they were already on their last warning for being late, so it had got them fired, but they weren't too bothered, the worst thing about it was trying to find a new job in below-freezing weather.

The girls only really looked away from one another when he and Eddie slid into the booth next to their respective best friends, both still dressed up to the nines, Robin's mascara all but gone, bits all down her cheeks from where she'd rubbed at it. But it was her beaming smile told Steve all he needed to know, she was elated, she'd had a brilliant night, she couldn't wait to relay every detail to him later, and oh my god, Evie, she's amazing, I think I'm in love!

That sent Steve's attention across the table, the two best friends seemed to be having a similarly telepathic conversation, their attention quickly turning away from each other back to Steve and Robin. But it was funny how Chris and Robin had almost precisely timed Steve and Eddie’s arrival because no sooner had Steve been reintroduced to Chrissy, "Eds' BFF, platonic soulmate and personal cheerleader!", the waitress arrived with food for the four of them.

Steve was kind of glad for the distraction of plates and cutlery and condiments because shaking Chrissy's hand had sent another vision into Steve's mind of meeting her and Eddie the night before and as far as he could remember he was being so embarrassingly obvious in his attraction to Eddie, that he'd barely taken his eyes off of him long enough to have the common decency to even glance in her direction. 

Being pathetically obsessed within the first five minutes, real smooth Steve!

They ate silently to begin with, happily just enjoying their meals; the food was delicious, and it had been far too long since any of them had had any proper nourishment. And Robin, his heavenly, wondrous Robin, had ordered his favourite dish, which with every mouthful was soothing the lingering aches of his hangover and given the blissed-out little moans slipping out of Eddie every now and again, he was clearly enjoying whatever meaty, eggy, goodness Chrissy had ordered for him.

Eventually though, sitting across from Eddie started to become just a tiny bit tortuous, especially when one particular groan, resonating from the back of his throat, brought forth a very clear vision of Eddie on his back in bed, making that very same sound as Steve kissed his way down his body. Fucking hell! 

Suddenly Steve wasn't all that embarrassed about whatever he'd done that'd attracted Eddie to him because he truly was a sight to behold, in bed or otherwise.

Steve's attention was snapped away from thoughts of naked-Eddie back to the cafe when Chrissy giggled, at what he wasn't sure, he could only assume it was an inside joke when Eddie elbowed her playfully, snorting and mumbling a whined "shut. up!" even though she hadn't said a word. His pretty dimples coming out as he shoved more food in his mouth, keeping his gaze on his meal and smiling reluctantly around his fork as she cackled beside him.

Robin nudged him under the table with her foot and gave him a look that said "this dork, really?" And Steve couldn't help but grin because yes this dork and his adorable cheerleader, if it were up to him they'd keep the pair of them forever because watching the two best friends tease each other was just too fucking cute! Almost like looking through a picture book filled with their rich history, their deep adoration etched into the smiles on every page.

Steve didn't know what it was about them, they just both had that something; Robin would call it an aura, but it just felt good to be around them. The happiness they shared together exuded, pulling you in rather than pushing you out and Steve just wanted to bask in it, like he was Yurtle and Eddie and Chrissy were the heat lamp.

Steve knew he hadn't always been the best judge of character, he'd been duped a time or two, but he trusted Robin's instincts, if she thought Chrissy was a good person, good enough to spend all night with, good enough to maybe be in love with, then Steve believed it unquestionably, because in all the time he'd known her she'd never been wrong about someone. 

She'd never liked Ashley and quite right too given the little rat was the one who'd been feeding HR all the reports that'd got them both fired. She'd hated Billy from the minute she met him, and well the less he thought about that the better. She’d felt the same abhorration for Carl, the electrician who as it turned out was wanted in several states for crimes he didn't like to think too closely about, given he'd left Robin alone with him. 

When, in a fit of desperation, Steve had joined a dating service and met Angel (or SheDevil as Robin liked to refer to her as) who as it turned out was one of his dads "business associates" who (for some sick reason neither of them could fathom) had wanted to sleep with Steve; Robin had gone berserk, they’d had a massive fight before he’d left for his date but even when he came back shaken and tempestuous, she never said I told you so, she just wrapped him up in a blanket, made him a hot chocolate and let him cry into her shoulder until he felt better. 

That was the day he decided he was always going to trust her gut unconditionally because it was clear she would always just know better than he did.

So Steve knew Eddie and Chrissy must be something truly special for Robin to be so comfortable around them, for her to let Steve get married because as much as she claimed she was powerless against his determination, they both knew that wasn't true. He was well and truly wrapped around her little finger and if she'd said no and meant it he would've trusted her intuition implicitly. She was his soulmate for a reason, not only because he wasn't entirely sure he could survive without her, but because she was the brains of the pairing; he still wasn't entirely sure how he’d managed to stay alive for the first two decades of his life without her.

He'd been so deep in thought that he started when Robin began chatting perpetually again; it was uncanny how she always did that, like she could almost sense that was thinking about her, so she’d just start talking, about anything and everything. He'd missed the white noise of her voice, like he always did when she was quiet, mainly because if her voice wasn't filling the space, his mind just had this tendency to run away with him, like a train on a track heading downhill. 

Although, he could’ve lived happily without the vicariously embarrassing blow-by-blow of the night before.

Apparently, the four of them had met each other in the third club Steve and Robin had been in, Steve had spotted Eddie across the room and immediately started his five-drink-Steve ritual of making it his mission to keep Eddie forever. 

No-one was more surprised than Robin when Steve's tactics had actually worked, her and Chrissy clicking over their mutual love and mortification they felt for their, platonic with a capital p, soulmates.

Apparently, nine-drink-Eddie had decided to ask twelve-drink-Steve to marry him, Steve, somewhat unsurprisingly, gave him a teary yes before he'd really had the chance to finish asking.

They were married by a man Robin was convinced was actually Elvis (nobody had the heart to correct her).

No-one could decide who should hold the bouquet, so they had one each, both girls caught Eddie's, whereas Steve, for all his sporting prowess, managed to hit the receptionist in the face with his, getting them promptly thrown out of the chapel.

Steve was already half naked before they'd even made it back to the hotel, it was undecided who'd undressed him. A mystery only Vegas knew the answer to. They’d made it across the hotel lobby by the grace of god and because Chrissy had played her "help the pretty blonde card" with the guy at the front desk as a distraction. 

Robin had no more details for their night, but Steve was pretty sure he could piece the rest of that together himself, he was just glad the lift had been empty after all. 

And the girls had had a whale of a time after they'd ushered the newly-weds off to bed, they'd carried on to several venues, including a drag show, another wedding (one that was actually planned for longer than five minutes!) a concert, three more bars, and finally headed back to the hotel.

"And then Chrissy rang Nancy! Oh my god, Steve! It's such a small world, right, 'cause Eds and Chris are from Indy too. It's crazy we've never met, huh? But anyway, we were thinking how funny would it be if Eds' dickhead ex opened the paper this morning to find out he's already moved on, and not only that, moved on with the King of Hawkins High himself! 'Cause Eds' ex is from Hawkins, like you! I bet you knew him! But yeah, turns out Chris knows Nancy, you know, your Nancy and well..."

Robin was definitely still speaking, but Steve's ears had started to ring again, not because his head was hurting but because he was pretty sure he was about to throw up! Nancy had put their wedding announcement in the Indy Independent, the very paper everyone he'd ever known read, including his parents! Not that he cared what they thought, but going from fired to married in a little over a week was a twist even for him. And Hop and Claudia! They were going to go absolutely mental! And the kids! At least they’d probably find it a little funny, unlike Hop who’d blow his top for sure.

Well, that's one way for everyone to find out! And no doubt Nancy found it beyond hilarious.

He and Nancy hadn't parted on the best terms. They'd broken up during a massive argument two days before their first anniversary, apparently he'd wanted more than she could possibly give him because she "just couldn't imagine staying with the same guy forever", only for her then to start up with her photographer boyfriend a few weeks later and as far as Steve knew they were still together all these years later, so that was obviously utter bullshit. 

When Steve had continued babysitting the kids they'd tried to be friends, well given how little time they ever spent in the same room together, he supposed that classed as them trying to be civil, mainly for Will and Mike's sake, but Steve was grateful when Jon and Nancy had moved away after graduation.

And Steve didn't see them again for a long time, it was just sods fucking law that he happened to bump into them right after everything had imploded with Billy. 

Robin had finally convinced him to go with her to a club she knew, he hadn't really wanted to be there in the first place and seeing Nancy again was the last thing he needed, feeling far too sore for the pitying look she gave him, he'd kicked off big time, trying to get her to admit that the real reason she'd left him was because he was just unlovable.

It wasn't his best night, and given she'd left in tears, it probably wasn't hers either. So he's no doubt she found it laugh-out-loud pathetic that the only way he'd eventually got married was to a total stranger while off his tits on holiday.

Steve glanced over at Eddie to see he'd gone white as a sheet, he gently called his name a couple of times, but he seemed to be in a world all of his own. Steve wanted to reach for his hand, but he wasn't sure how Eddie would react to that, and he didn't want to freak him out more, so he left his hand palm up on the tabletop next to Eddie’s hoping it was enough, leaving him a clear indicator that his comfort was there if he wanted it.

Eddie stayed in his trance for a few more minutes before a car drove past the restaurant, bouncing light through the window, causing Steve's ring to glint in his vision. That seemed to snap him out of it, Eddie all but throwing his hand into Steve's, gripping it tightly.

"Dan knows?" Eddie's voice shook with what sounded like disbelief. Steve, worrying he might burst into tears any second, started rubbing his thumb soothingly along Eddie’s knuckles.

Steve thought back to all the Daniel's he'd known in high school, couldn't think of a single one of them good enough for Eddie, and although King Steve wasn't good enough for Eddie either, at least he'd made the effort to become a better person.

A person who could maybe be good enough for someone like Eddie, with his resplendent smile and his inspirational laugh, his wondrous voice and wicked tongue. But clearly Dan hadn't bothered to grow, he'd stayed the same small town jumped-up dickhead that thought he was too good for the remarkable man in front of him.

More fool him! 

Dan's loss and hopefully, if he played his cards right, Steve's gain.

Steve brought his other hand up to join the first, so he was cradling Eddie's hand in both of his, trying to be as comforting as he could from across the table, but then Eddie had started to laugh, deep and brilliant and merry, as though it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard.

"Oh, ho, ho! I wish I could've seen his face! I wonder if Jason took a picture? We could get it framed! OH! Album cover!" Eddie was practically vibrating in his seat, Chrissy joining in with his raucous laughter.

Steve looked at Robin, she looked equally baffled, oh good it's not just me! 

As much as Steve wished he had a clue, it was nice to see how easily Chrissy matched Eddie's energy, bouncing up and down next to him, waving her arm frantically, "Oh, no, no, no! Stage backdrop!" she managed between peels of laughter, making Eddie laugh so hard he started banging the table with his free hand, desperately trying to catch his breath.

Chrissy looked across the booth, quickly catching his and Robin's confusion, sucking in a deep breath and jumping right into regaling them with stories of Eddie's early music career. Of Corroded Coffins' humble beginnings, practising in Jeff's garage and playing to disinterested patrons of their local bar. How they'd caught a break getting a regular gig in Indy, how they'd been discovered by a scout who just happened to be passing through. How they'd been on the edge of stardom, only for Eddie to have his dreams squashed with the promise of forever that never came to fruition, no matter how much Eddie conformed to Dan's every demand.

Steve listened in awe, Chrissy was an excellent storyteller and Eddie turned a beautiful shade of crimson whenever his best friend praised him, but Eddie's demeanour changed as the story became heartbreaking and all Steve could do was squeeze Eddie’s hand tighter; he knew what it was like to live with a dream squasher, someone who wanted to mould you into what they wanted you to be, instead of loving you for who you are. Not that he could understand how anyone would want to try to change Eddie, or how anyone could want to take anything away from him; or how anyone could see how happy his dreams made him and not want to do everything in their power to make them come true.

He could tell Robin was equally fascinated, but Vegas was clearly catching up with her, she was desperately trying to fight sleep, nodding off and shifting, staying awake for a few minutes to keep listening to Chris' stories but nodding off again. When Robin nearly face-planted her empty plate, Chrissy interrupted herself to suggest they head back to the hotel. 

Not that Robin wanted to leave their company, she whined and protested, but quickly settled as soon as Eddie suggested they all meet up in the evening to go to a concert. Steve didn't quite catch the name of the artist, but from the way Robin bounced on the balls of her feet, he could tell she was excited about them. Steve didn't care if they were going to see the Queen of England's attempt at a comedy gig, Rick Astley repeat Never Gonna Give You Up for two hours straight or an elderly man give a talk about growing tomatoes, he was just happy to be spending more time with them.

It was hot out on The Strip, the sun high in the sky, bathing them in light and making Eddie look almost ethereal as he walked quietly by Steve's side. Eddie wasn't looking at him like he had been when they'd set off to the restaurant, he was glancing around at all the sights of Vegas, so Steve felt free to really look. Even looking at Eddie's profile knocked the breath out of Steve like a smack to the chest, he was just so beautiful, Steve felt more like he was looking at a piece of art than a human being. 

Eddie’s hair wasn't just brown, in the sunlight Steve could see it was a mix of every colour, blondes and reds and browns all intermingled in his little ringlets. Neither were his eyes, they were speckled with gold and amber flecks that shone and sparkled as the light reflected from them. His pale skin was slowly turning pink in the midday heat, making a multitude of tiny scars on his face and neck shimmer. Steve wanted to kiss every one, he wanted to know the stories behind each mark, wanted to heal the past hurts with gentle caresses. 

How could anyone ever want to hurt you?

With that thought, Steve's mind couldn't help but wander to Eddie and Dan's relationship, he just couldn't get over how endlessly unfair it was that Eddie had had to go through a relationship like that. Being in love with someone who didn't love you back was terrible enough, but being with someone willing to manipulate you into giving up your dreams, into becoming a whole other person out of desperation to be a good partner then to have the nerve to publicly blame you for the demise of the relationship, was just horrific. 

Eddie didn't deserve that, he deserved someone willing to hang the moon and the stars for him.

And as much as a sick part of Steve understood the desire to want to keep Eddie all to himself, to keep his voice all for himself because when he thought back to the way Eddie had drawn him in without even making a true effort, Steve knew that if Eddie sang with intent the whole world would want a piece. But he supposed the difference was, he understood how selfish it would be to do that, to stand in Eddie's way of making his dreams come true, to not actively help him to actualize those dreams, to stop him from sharing his gifts with the world! 

Eddie drew him out of his musings by bumping his shoulder into Steve's, a warm, playful smile on his face that Steve couldn't help but respond to, gesturing behind them with his eyes. Eddie seemed delighted when Steve snuck a glance over his shoulder at Chrissy and Robin; they were holding hands, Robin, getting more drowsy with every step they took in the intense heat, was practically being held up by Chrissy, not that it had any effect on the dopey smiles they were directing at each other. 

"Adorable" Eddie mouthed when Steve's gaze flicked back to him, he couldn't help but agree, even if he did feel that little twinge of jealousy that the two of them could be so freely wrapped up in one another. Apart from when he was dating a girl, Steve never felt confident being openly affectionate in public, he always felt like it needed a big conversation about what the other person was comfortable with, and then he was accused of overthinking everything and making it weird.

He knew it was down to the way Billy had treated him and the thing was it made sense back in Hawkins but when they'd moved to Indy they lived in a safe part of town, he saw couples just being themselves all the time but the one time he accidentally grabbed Billy's hand during a thriller at the cinema, he'd acted like it was the end of the world, like Steve had doomed them somehow and when something so small causes your partner to temporarily move out it's bound to make you self-conscious.

Steve was glad when they arrived back at the hotel, he was fine in the sunshine, other than the time when he was fifteen and he'd fallen asleep in one of his sun loungers for eight or so hours, he never burned, but Eddie's cheeks already had a permanent pinkening and Robin may as well be a vampire she burned so easily, Chrissy had rosy cheeks now too, but he wasn't sure whether that was down to the sun or Robin's affection. 

The lobby air conditioning had perked Robin up like a slap to the face, she was back to chattering easily with Eddie, telling elaborate stories of her marching band days, waving not only her own hands about but Chrissy's too where she hadn't realised she hadn't let go, not that Chris seemed to mind. Steve couldn't help but smile at them, they were too cute; even Vickie eventually became tired of Robin's rambling, she’d learned ways to discreetly quieten her, but Robin noticed, of course she did, it was the reason for the first time he'd ever seen Robin cry, but Chris just seemed enchanted, it made Steve's heart happy.

Steve was trying to keep track of their conversation, but his brain was blanking, now they were back in the midst of the hotel he was suddenly uneasy, every second that ticked by, every step they took was one closer to having to part, but they couldn’t linger, it was check-in time so reception was manic with pushing and shoving and people vying for attention. Steve was glad when the lift dinged so they could be away from the hubbub, the doors sliding open like a welcoming embrace. 

Seeming to sense his change in mood, Eddie snuck his hand into the small of his back to guide him into the lift, immediately calming Steve; Robin noticed, falling silent halfway through her sentence to poke Steve hard in the ribs, smirking and mouthing, "adorable" at him. 

Steve let out a breathy laugh and blushed deeply, melting further when the doors slid closed and Eddie snaked his arms around Steve's waist, propping his chin on Steve's shoulder. It warmed his heart to have him so close, to think that maybe he was equally anxious to be apart. Eddie snapping out of his contemplation by laughing heartily when Robin looked at the two of them with feigned disgust, but it didn't take long for her to turn into an adorably blushing mess as soon as Chrissy did the same thing to her.

With two floors separating them, the foursome found it incredibly difficult to part from one another, Chrissy wouldn’t let go of Robin’s hand and Steve was leaning against the doors forcing them to stay open for as long as possible while they checked and double-checked and triple-checked the arrangements for meeting up later in the evening. It was only when an elderly couple wanted to use the elevator that Steve reluctantly let it go, he and Robin staring forlornly at the closed doors for several moments before sighing heavily and turning to head to their room.

Robin headed straight to the bathroom for a shower, muttering under her breath about everything being wet. What could he say? They’d had fun! He knew she didn't really care about the state of the bathroom from the amount of times she'd showered with the door open in her apartment so they could continue their conversation, she was just filling the space to ease him.

Steve flopped down on his unmade bed, sucking in a relaxing breath, thinking about how brilliantly fucked up his life had become, and half listening to Robin's grumbling, letting it soothe him. Then when he felt brave enough, he put the phone on speaker and let the messages play.

Beep. "My Little Bobbin, you forgot to call! Give us a ring before your mother has an aneurysm! We love you!" Beep.

Steve could hear Robin creasing up in the bathroom, he felt guilty that he'd forgotten to remind her but her parents knew her too well, they’d only start to really worry if they didn't hear anything after a couple of days but they’d know from the fact that they could leave a message that they'd checked in and now she'd been reminded Robin would call them back when she was done in the shower.

Beep. "Steve, honey, Dustin’s driving me insane, will you please remember to bring him that book he wanted? I can't remember the name. Earthshaker! call him, will you? he misses you. Okay, love you, bye." Beep.

Beep. "Steven. Darrrling. Having fun in Vegas? Dad's got you a lawyer all set up, so don't worry! Call us back so we can start proceedings." Beep.

Beep. "Steve, it's Hop. *sigh* Is that Steve? No, he's not there. Call me, we love you." Beep.

Beep. "Steve, honey, we saw your announcement. I'm glad you're having fun but maybe give Hop a call? El says he's pacing! Don't forget my book! Dustin! Have fun with your husband! Send our love to Bobby, bye!" Beep.

If there were more messages Steve didn't hear them, between Robin chattering over the sound of the shower and listening to the messages from his family, Steve nodded off with a contented smile plastered to his face.

Part 3

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tag list @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @adhdsummer @newtstabber

#chapter 2!! it's 2000 words longer than it was supposed to be and it's all Star's fault #thank you for reading this word vomit #apologies again for my terrible grammar and all the tense changes. i have proof read it so many times i can't even see them anymore #i'm sorry it's all plot. apparently i can do talking or plot 😂 #there's more if anyone's interested #just want to say i'm not anti nancy before anyone comes for me #there's just lots more to the story than steve has fathomed #this sucks so much #steddie vegas au #steddie au #steddie #platonic stobin #platonic hellcheer #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #background buckingham #steve's pov #aj writes

[ridestomars]

thinking about giving steve a handjob behind family video’s counter

after he's had an absolute terror of a day, having to deal with difficult customers and with watching you move around the store wearing those tight jeans without being able to do anything about it. by the end of his shift, he's on the verge of tears, feeling so frustrated that he just wants to go home. taking pity for the desolate look in his eyes, seeing how they droop and are glossy with tiredness, you decide to be nice to him. and what started out as a passionate make-out session turns into him bucking his hips into your hand as your body is pressed against the hard edge of the store's counter.

the relieved sigh that leaves his lips once your hand barely brushes his cock it's enough to make your knees tremble as he hovers over you. he can't even keep his eyes open to look down at your pretty hand around him because that would be too much for him to handle. especially when his head starts to get dizzy by the feeling of you, taking in your comforting fragrance and the steadiness of your movements. steve can't even think about the way that he's moaning. hoarse whimpers that come out burning his throat, desperate whines that curl his lip and make him throw his head back, begging sentences that are almost never finished. "it feels so-" his own words get run over by a squeaky moan that fights its way out of him.

he leans down his head to draw you in for a peck on your lips, that lasts longer than both of you had anticipated. and soon the simplicity of the kiss shifts into a mess when his tongue brushes against yours, starting a filthy open-mouthed kiss – steve's favorite. his moans have gotten to the point where they don't even have sounds anymore, and it's just him, lost in the increasing movement of your hand pumping him, with his mouth hanging open. <3

#my first smutty thought if it sucks shut up #i can't stop thinking about this man #excuse me #notsfw #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #liv talks about stevie #liv writes filth #apparently

[kyouka-supremacy]

Yeah, Teruko was the one that made me realize the sexisim that existed in BSD when I first binged it. Or, more accurate, what TYPE we're dealing with. The female characters can exist and have their own moments, but they can never outshine the male characters and Asagiri can also allow himself to forget them if he needs to. When I read Stormbringer, one of the things that stood out to me is the fact that no female character has any prominent role until like, 200+ pages in, and what role Kouyou got was so minimal she might as well not have shown up at all. Yosano has a huge important backstory that doesn't become relevant until SEASON 4 while most of her male companions have had theirs explored way before her. It's disappointing, but I genuinely find Teruko intolerable and find her to be the worst written character in the entire series. It's not her fault, but her behaviour around Fukuchi and her ability was just horrid to me. Her ending here just enhances all the issues that already existed in her character for me. She's the only female character in this series I can't stand and that SUCKS because I want to love them all, but Asagiri is making that mighty difficult when he pulls stuff like this :/

(´；ω；｀)

The almost complete lack of female characters is personally my greatest disincentive to reading Stormbringer (together with the lack of ss/kk. Discredit where it's due).

Teruko's role this whole doa arc has been.. Saddening? I feel all the hd have a lot of untapped potential; but whereas with Fukuchi and Tachihara and even Jouno it's like, you know what's their deal, there's so little we know about Teruko and Tetchou's motivations and backstory. And even when both had their occasional times to shine - I like Teruko's scenes in the Sky Casino arc! A lot! I think they make for a very cool character! -, there's the whole deal with Teruko in the airport arc which is just :/// Like, she's just there to move the plot forward. She was very pretty in chapter 105 and made me feel like she had some further insight in the whole picture, like she had taken a stand and had a motive, but in the end it was never elaborated on, and I'm very sorry for that. Way worse, she was exclusively delegated to the role of numbly moving the plot forward, which is just wholly unfortunate. Why did she let Atsushi go just like that, like, really?? Oftentimes women's role in this franchise is truly meaningless. I don't really care for what side she was going to take in the end, I just wish she was just handled more sensibility, more respectfully. But alas. Hoping she'll get some spotlight in the future, because I really like her.

I like Teruko! Like, I genuinely get where you're coming from, and your reasons for not liking her are very valid. To me it's more about straight-up ignoring some stuff I don't like (REALLY can't vibe with the Fukuchi worshipping, I find it quite gross to be honest) and emphasizing the aspects I do like. I like how she's unapologetically mean - honestly, not many female characters get to do that. She gets to be a villain -, but I also like how it's compensated with a very strong moral code and genuine intent to protect citizens. I love lots of her scenes in the Sky Casino arc: her interactions with Tachihara are funny and vaguely wholesome, her determination and resourcefulness to win over Sigma is so cool, and her reluctance to hurt citizens, and the scene where she stopped an aircraft with her bare hands!!!! Honestly, banger after banger after banger, looking back at it that's probably why I held such high expectations for her character. Despite personally wholly disagreeing with bsd's morale, even Teruko's enouncement of her Hobbesian principles is enjoyable for me, because it's quite rare to see a woman preach such realist, cynical worldviews; if anything, it's refreshing. I think her ability is super cool and original, I love it tons!! I really like her character design, too. I like how she's of the highest grade compared to all other hd members minus Fukuchi and I like how she can be childish and keep them in line at the same time. I like how more mature and savvy she looked in her latest airport arc appearances, how she looked tired of war on par with Fukuchi. I wish she was given more screentime and importance and agency, and I wish the mess of the last chapter didn't happen, but I like her personality.

On her ability, I think it's pretty cool, and neutrally problematic by its own; but I do agree that between Teruko having child appearances and being obsessed with a grown-up man, the whole Mori deal, Aya proposing to Kunikida in chapter 40, the chapter 107.5 page that left everyone perplexed and was only later on clarified by the anime, (and, regretfully, even how the Kyouka / Atsushi dynamics are framed in some of the earlier chapters), it creates a very distasteful pattern.

I really like Yosano's backstory (really. I've said it a lot of times before, but I think chapters 65-66 are the best written chapters in the whole manga.), but it's not like just because of two small chapters that center around a woman after 15 volumes of male spotlight bsd suddenly stops being sexist lol. And that's something I've already said before, but: Yosano's chapters are beautiful! But they don't really help empower female characters in this franchise. Yosano completely lacks agency in the story, which is FINE for the story on its own, yet in the context it simply does nothing but reinforce the fact that women can't be masters of their fate.

I also strongly agree with the fact that female characters are accurately written as to never outshine their male counterparts. As someone else has pointed out before, both Kyouka and Higuchi have respectively saved Atsushi and Akutagawa's lives (in Kyouka's case, multiple times), so why is it that Atsushi and Akutagawa don't serve them the same respect and admiration that they hold for them? The double standard is really blatant once you start seeing it.

I've written more on bsd's sexism here, if you'd like to check it out. Even though it's very important to read things critically and acknowledge franchises' faults, I still can't help but feel bad for spreading negativity (╥﹏╥) Here's to hoping the bsd writing of female characters will improve in the future!!

#I really get the frustration of disliking a female character but wanting to like them SO BAD because sis it's not their fault– #the author can't write women to save their life. #It happened to me with Lucy because the whole “Live‚ and save me from this place one day” deal was a very hard pill to swallow. #Which doubly sucked because I really felt stereotype of hating on a female character just because she gets in the way of your mlm ship ಥ_ಥ #teruko ōkura #bsd #bsd negativity #mine #people asks me stuff #4am has apparently become the prime time to answer asks lol

[adriancatrin]

zuko has to learn to read between the lines because sokka rarely talks freely about things that are bothering him unless he’s at a breaking point. it takes zuko a while to realize that sokka uses humor to cope, and that just because sokka is telling jokes doesn’t mean he’s okay. sokka had to be strong and put on a good face for the children of the gaang for so long that sometimes he forgets he doesn’t have to do that anymore

meanwhile sokka has to learn to be Very Patient with zuko. if the boy’s not ready to talk about something, pushing him will only make him shut down completely. and similarly, even if he is ready to talk about something, it takes him a while to articulate his thoughts, and they often come out jumbled. sokka has to kind of put the pieces together to figure out what he’s trying to get at. zuko wasn’t and still often isn’t allowed to be inarticulate in his life, so if he hasn’t grasped his own thoughts yet he gets very nervous sharing

#idfk #<that’s my headcanon tag apparently lol #anyways this is kinda an extention/elaboration of my last one #they have to be soft and perceptive w one another #🥺🥺🥺 #zukka #sokka x zuko #sokka/zuko #atla #zuko #sokka #headcanon #anyways small update- #my dads in town so writing and art is on a bit of a hold #still working on my one shot and then we’re back to the chaptered fic #current one shot is a runaway zuko one #also think i’m gonna pull my tablet from the pit it died in and try my hand at some digital art again? #i kinda suck at it and it’s been ages so we’ll seeeee #update

[gendervapor14]

i’m so jealous of people who can write or create before or after a work shift… i don’t understand how you do it. on a day i work, i wake up. eat. dress. go to work. come home. eat. shower. and then immediately pass out. where do you find the time and energy for this

#genrambles #anyway that’s why my writing speed is like a snail’s pace since i started working full time #i can only create on my days off #and i assumed everyone who works was the same but apparently not #and sometimes on my days off i’m still so exhausted from work i can’t write #or i have to do other adult reponsibilities #it sucks i feel like i’m trapped in a cage #anyway sorry for the vent jesus

[plush-rabbit]

Eating Out - Brothers’ Ed.

Request: Hi, I hope you’re having a good day! Could I get some eating out headcanons like you did for Beelzebub but for all the other brothers? Thank you so much!

A/N: I think most of my things turn into short stories so this will be a mix of my headcanons at how they eat/a mini story w/ no dialogue. Enjoy! (afab reader, but gn pronouns!)

-

Lucifer:

While he can be giving, and takes great pride in making you feel good, he is also one to tease. He knows your body better than anyone else will ever get to know, knows just where to touch you to give you a strained, bashful smile. Lucifer kisses so softly and wickedly, exposing all of you with just his tongue. There’s no need to rush when you’re before him, when you’re with a body heavy with lust, that even if you could go anywhere, you would choose to stay in front of him with parted legs. His tongue parts through you, reaching deep inside of you, and he’s thankful that of all his attributes that are less than human presenting, it’s his tongue, and just how much you enjoy it without having to warm up to it. He can be soft, and loving, and  make you release without begging, but then again, he wants to know just how far he can push you, just how much until you’re whining and begging for him- pleading with a raspy voice and desperation so thick on your words that it burns a hole in him. 

You’ve teased him all day long and at first it was cute- you trying to be coy and letting your hands linger too long around his neck, but then the antics grew. Your hands grab at his thigh under the table, you sent him pictures when you knew he was around Diavolo when you knew that he would always open a message from you no matter where he is. It excited him; knowing just how much you wanted him, knowing that the result would end with you bent over his knee as he worked his fingers inside of you- with your bum sore and flushed from his hand. You didn’t even try to deny punishment, grabbing his hand eagerly and following him to his study with a growing smile pulled on your lips. You smile at him behind closed doors, and it doesn’t take long to undress you when you lean close to him. His gaze is cold, and his smile is pulled taut as he pushes you on his couch. 

It’s a sight to behold to see someone such as himself on their knees. His hands are gloved and the texture is smooth on your legs. Your gaze is wide and he’s sure that you must think your punishment won’t be severe- that you might actually come out of this unscathed. But his smile is mean, and his reddened eyes predatory and filled with blood as he dips his head between your legs. There’s no need to tease you when you know what’s to come. His tongue is flat, licking a long stripe from the bottom of your sex, the tip sliding against your entrance, until it reaches at your clit, pulsing with want. You’re already aroused, dripping onto the seat without shame. He keeps your legs spread, leering over your exposed cunt, watching as it beads with your excitement and shining under the light. It’s a sight that he commits to memory, wanting to always remember just how perfect every part of your body is- something suiting both you and him.

He’s gentle at first, leading you in security. Your heavy sighs and moans fill his ears and for a moment, he forgets just how he wanted to tease you. He leaves himself there, kissing your sex so sweetly that it makes a chill run down your spine. His face is buried, breaths and tongue filled with your essence. You’re all that consumes him as he feasts upon you, his tongue tasting and slithering its way inside of you, feeling your gummy insides mold to him, clenching tightly around his tongue. Your hands are fisted in his hair, and you’re croaking out his name in a prayer, calling him and claiming just how close you are and he stops himself. He sees how your body falls and hears the pitiful want in your voice and once more, he repeats the process- teasing and kissing you so nicely, and making you want him, and just when he can feel the familiar twitch and tightening of your body, does he pull away with heavy eyes and deep breathing. 

Arousal has soaked the seat and filled his stomach. You’re shaking and trying to rub yourself against his buried face and he is much stronger than you will ever be. You’re tired, voice raspy and low, your nails having clawed on the couch, and cunt wet with slick and his spit. This is turning out far more pleasurable- seeing the frustration and anguish clear on your expression and he has a smug grin. Lucifer is taking great joy in seeing just how long he can deny you your own pleasure. It’s a sight that rivals that of your own quivering cunt that flutters around nothing. Dipping his head back down, he grins into you, and feels just how much you need him. Your cries are getting louder and finally, you’re apologizing for trying to tease him. You promise to be better and he knows that it’s a false promise but when you call his name with tears, he can’t help but give in to you and your wants. He rests his face there, not pulling away when he feels your high approach and letting it spill on him and spill onto the couch. Your body collapses, and you thank him under your breath. 

Mammon:

You are a shining light to him, and he needs you to know that. Giving to you, brings him immense joy. He eats feverishly, his mind blank, only your sounds of pleasure and the calling of his name echoed, and he doesn’t need anything else but you. His hands are on every part of you that he can hold- tight around your waist, interlaced with your hands, cupping at a breast and tweaking at your budding nipples- he just needs to touch you. It’s this primal urge in him to mark you- to rub his scent over you and let everyone know that you are his. Sex only enhances that urge- getting to feel your skin, delicate under his nails, and spilling with red when he digs them just a bit too deep, only to be kissed away. He moans and whines, letting you know that being before you is a pleasure on its own. It’s sloppy and messy, and it feels so good to know that he’s making you feel good- that you’re holding onto him and begging to kiss his lips that are touched by your arousal. 

He isn’t sure what it is when he’s with you, but there’s just something there that leaves him always wanting you. He wants you in every type of way- beside him, infatuated, clinging to him- just simply there. You’re his, and he is yours and whatever you ask of him, there’s very little chance that he would actually deny you. So, when you ask to go for a drive with just him, he’s more than happy to fulfill that request for you. His hand is on your thigh, and his eyes are on the road and every so often, he casts a glance towards you- watching as you tap your hands with the beat of the song and stare out the window. You’re in the outskirts of the town, the glow from the buildings is nothing more than just that- a blur of lights together that are dim. You give him a cheeky grin, and it takes just a little bit of flirting for both of you to move to the back of the car, limbs entangled with one another in a cramped space. Your lips are on him, and the space is tight, and you're clutching onto him, kissing at every inch of his exposed skin and he’s taking it all in, savoring the feel of your lips against his skin. 

Maybe it’s his sin, or maybe it’s you that has him so unsatisfied, so unhappy with what he is given, but he needs more, craves it and needs it like he needs air. It’s you that he needs in the back of his car, his body bent and cramped as you lay on the seat with your sex exposed to him. A chaste kiss is pressed against your thigh, followed by his lips pressed against your sex, hands on you grabbing and massaging at your thighs, feeling the plush skin soften and mold to his hands. It’s messy almost immediately, drool slipping past his pursed lips and staining your glistening cunt. His head spins, and his muscles are cramped and he just needs you before him, air be damned. He could live off of you forever, could never come up for air if it meant that you would continue to look at him with half-lidded eyes and a parted lips.

Nails pinch at your plush skin, marks appearing immediately and he can feel your body tense and jerk with every random touch. Your body is bent as he's sure you're going to feel that later, but at the moment, he cares for nothing but how you look at the moment- hair disheveled, face flushed with pleasure, his hands on you, and your eyes fixed on him. In that moment, you look better than any other prized jewel he’s ever laid eyes on. He’s suckling on your clit, swirling his tongue over the engorged bud that pulses erratically. You’re calling his name and he’s nodding along, moaning murmured words into your heat, asking what more could you want of him, what more could he do just to have you here with him in the back of his car. 

Desire burns in him, greater than any flame, greater than anything he’s ever felt before and it’s because of you. He yearns to taste you, to memorize you- all of you- till he’s sure he could find you blind. You’re kept close to him, unable to squirm away both from the tight space and his hands. He holds onto you- letting his nails rake down, lines swelling over where he touched, and burning in its wake. Hearing the way you hiss and feeling how your cunt humps at his face in a desperate attempt, has his heart racing, beating against his ribs like a panicked bird. Your arousal seeps onto his tongue and smears across his chin, and with the lewd wet, clicking sounds, it is evident that you’re close. Your hands clutch at the crown of his head, and his name is croaked past your lips, and he lifts his head to watch your eyes shut tight, your mouth parted as your other hand twists around the seatbelt. Your orgasm is sweet, filling his mouth and lingering on his tongue and as you shake and you let your body slack, he is still kissing you- letting his tongue lick at your slit, wanting to taste every bit of you that you have left for him. Mammon looks up at you with eyes that match yours and his hands are on your thighs, and he kisses softly, lets his tongue drag against your rim and lips purse around your budding clit as he feels your hands soothe over his now knotted hair.

Leviathan:

Whether its the first time or the hundredth, Leviathan can be hesitant towards sex. His nerves and anxiety gets the best of him, and it leads to every touch being shaky and hesitant, a grip that’s just a bit too tight and it’s his face that’s flushed rather than yours. However, while the beginning of giving to you can be slow and ponderous, he gets into it fairly quickly. It might be due to years of repressed and perverted thoughts, but once he has a taste of you, he’s extremely focused. Your pleasure is the things that keeps him going- keeping his face to your sex, letting his tongue unfurl inside of you and take all that he can from you. Having you so close to him fuels his pleasure- hearing such perverse sounds and knowing that he's the cause of it all, knowing that he could taste and feel all of you and that you’d want him because it’s his name that it repeated and cried into an empty room. He is anything but silent, moaning and praising, the sound of his tongue clicking and moans filling the room and matching your own cries. 

Of course you’d find him in his room, his headset on as he yells into the microphone before angrily stepping onto the ground in quick, repeated motions. You voice your concern- a hint of a playfulness that he isn’t having fun, and concern that maybe he should take a break. He doesn’t need much convincing afterwards, choosing to shut down everything until his reflection stares at him through the monitor. The bed- or futon, but he decided that futon sounded too immature- whines under his added weight. He buries his head into your stomach, eyes closed and a headache slowly beginning to form between his brows. Your hand scratches at his scalp and the soft, hypnotic motions has his mind feeling heavy, and it’s almost disgusting how this seemingly innocent moment of comfort has something beginning to ache in his trousers. Perhaps that’s the perk of being a shut-in- it doesn’t take much to get him going, especially when it’s you. 

It’s embarrassing to ask you- almost as if it’s some shameful thing- but he cups your sex with his hand and looks at you with red pooling on his cheeks and on the tip of his nose, and you don’t deny him. Desperation soaks in him as he removes your clothing, and it’s so apparent that he wants you, that he just needs you at this moment. With your sex exposed in front of him, your knees bent and your index just teasing at your clit, he goes drunk on your cunt without taking a single taste. His mind goes blank- and suddenly he’s just aware of you- you heartbeat- your heavy, slow breathing and the way that your fingers ghost over your clit and your other hand clenches at the bedsheet under you. His mouth is dry and his tongue is heavy, and he can’t form a single coherent thought that doesn’t involve you and your cunt. 

He is drunk off your arousal- pupils dilated and hands holding you to his face as if he had never touched you before. His mouth suckles on your clit, feeling the swell of it throb on his tongue and he yearns to hear your moans- to feel your back arch and legs cross over his back to keep him in place. If that’s where you want him, he’d never leave- he stays there, hands holding onto your bum and nose nuzzled to your clit as his tongue sweeps over the rim of your entrance. He can feel your twitches and your muscles tensing and he’s stuck between staying with his head resting between your thighs, or watching you, but then if he were to let go, he’d miss all of this- miss feeling so connected to you with just a single part of him.

The deepest, and most intimate part of you is exposed to Leviathan and any other time, it would have reduced him to a flustered mess, except that today it reduces him to a desperate mess that only seeks to touch you. It’s his name that you are calling. No one else’s but his and he takes that so well, moaning and nipping gently at your vulva, letting his tongue lick over the superficial wound when your cry is just a bit sharper than usual. He just can’t help it. He needs to hear you cry- he needs this. His mind is swirling, spiraling in depravity as he stretches his tongue as far as it can go- licking at your cervix and pulling back and strands of spit connect from his mouth to your lips and you look so filthy and all he can think about is stretching your further. His hands meet your sex, slick coating his fingertips and it’s his meal wasted. With his face pressed so close to you, he can feel it all. He feels your high, feels your walls tighten around his tongue, the way that your clit pulses and the sweet essence that fills his tongue with ambrosia and honey. He hums in content, pushing his face deeper into sex, parting only when you call his name. He wants more- needs more. He needs all of you at this very moment, needs to show you just how far his love goes. 

Satan:

It’s no surprise that Satan would excel at whatever it is he does. He’s precise, knowing exactly where to touch you, knowing where to kiss and which part of you is most sensitive. He wants to see every part of you- wants to know that he’s the one that  is causing such obscene sounds to sing past your lips. Even if you’ve already reached your peak, he holds you there, tongue and mouth still fixated on your sex. He doesn’t dare to let go; doesn’t dare to kiss away from you, to leave your sex alone and quivering without anything there to keep you warm. You’re there till he lets you go, until he’s gotten his full, until he’s sure that you would never forget him and that way that he makes you feel; that even if you’re alone, you’d remember him and that way that he felt. 

While it can be argued that he has his own library stuffed into his room, it still isn’t rare for either of you to be caught in the library- either one of you focused on a book or simply just wanting to be read outloud to. It is rare, however, for the two of you to be undisturbed, the house empty of all inhabitants, only to leave the two of you alone. You sit on a chaise lounge, snuggled at the corner with your phone in hand- your partner placing stacks of books on the table, and his eyes catching yours every now and again. His steps are quiet, the books neatly organized and unblemished from the years of care. You only spare him a smile when he makes his way to you, and when he’s on his knees before you, do you actually give him all of your attention. Your eyes are wide, curiosity tilting at your head that friends him of a cat, and when his name escapes your lips, does he grab at your leg and whisper a spell to give him easy access to you. His name is repeated in a familiar chastising tone, and he can only give you a mischievous grin that is placed against your knee.  

He leaves a trail of kisses from the outside of your knee, curving slowly to the inside of your thigh. His eyes are closed, and even so, he remembers where every freckle lies, craning his neck to kiss at each, running his hands and curving them around your thigh, waves of cellulite running under his palm. Meeting you sex, he kisses you, spreading your folds with his tongue and gripping you in his palms. He revels in the way that you sound- every swish and lewd squelching that runs on his tongue as he pulls you close to him. He’s humming and nuzzling his way against you, savoring every taste and spill onto his tongue. Even if he’s just begun, you’re already gripping his hair, knitting your hands and scratching his scalp. 

There is no need for him to breathe when he has you right here, when he’s so consumed by all of you. His tongue runs against you, massaging as far as it can reach, moaning and nodding along when you cry and call his name. When you tell him that you’re close, he keeps at his pace, his nose buried into your sex and heart beating against his ribs as you squirm and cry. His nails pierce into your skin, pink crescents adoring your body, your cunt pulsing with want and breaths heavy as you call for him, and only him, begging for him. He releases a hand from you to work its way between his mouth and your cunt. He enters you with ease, massaging your inners with his index and middle finger. He is insatiable, your arousal dripping onto his chin, and onto the chaise lounge, and onto the carpet. 

Your cries are louder now, and you’ve spilled onto his mouth and tongue, staining him with your orgasm. Your body shudders, shaking with the afterglow, and when he keeps kissing at your sex, you try to pull away, muttering out how you’re still too sensitive and the ever caring lover that he is, he continues to kiss you. He hooks a leg and holds you steady, preventing you from squirming away and he only pulls away from you to watch as your cunt trembles and flutters around nothing, leaking with syrupy strands, a pulsing want burning him from the inside. Your lips are puffed and his own must match yours, and your sweet voice calls out to him, a whimper to kiss you and perhaps you want him to actually kiss you, but he could never get enough of you and your taste. He wants to make you feel good in the way that you do for him. He holds you close, savoring every taste and twitch that you give to him. His mouth never stops, and he is passionate and slow, eating in a way that makes you twist and cry. 

Asmodeus:

Every kiss of his burns- a warmth that washes over you and lulls you closer to sin, a familiar warmth that starts as you heart quickens it’s pace, heat rushing to the shell of your ears, to the pit of your stomach and aching at your sex. Asmodeus is a giving lover- making sure to take his time, never wanting to rush such a sweet meal, always pulling you closer to his mouth, kissing at every inch of exposed skin. Your skin is dotted in his marks, a breath of love whispered as he moves to kiss you once more. Never wanting to rush, he takes his time until you’re whining, breathless with a hint of desperation laced into your words to finally touch you.

You lay with him, your lips puffed and gloss smeared on his lips and stained into the clothes. It’s a rare moment where neither of you are bothered by an outside force, simply stuck in a room together where you now are stuck to him, hands trailing over his body and holding onto his thigh, close to where his own cock has already begun to ache. Your breaths are heavy, and despite that, you can only pull away for a moment before you’re back to him. Every kiss kindles the flame inside of him, and the taste of your lips is intoxicating, spinning his mind until his lungs are empty of air and his mind is consumed by you.

Just a simple touch to your thighs is enough to have you moan into his mouth, trailing your lips to kiss at his neck and beg just beneath his ear. He hasn’t even begun to fully touch you, and you’re already clinging to him, begging for more and he could never deny you- not when you ask so sweetly. You lay on the bed, and your clothes and his are discarded over the floor of the room. His palms sink into your soft thighs, manicured nails lightly scratching at your skin as he kisses from your collarbone, down between your breasts, to your navel and finally breathing upon your sex, letting the tip of his tongue swipe at your trembling bud. He feels how much you want him, can sense it past his own sin and sense it in the connection that he has with you. He so desperately wants you- he kisses the pulse in your core, feels the way that your feelings beat against him, and tastes you. 

Perhaps it is mean of his to tease you so much- especially when you’re writhing under him and calling his name with a croak, wanting him to really taste you, but he can’t help it. He adores the sound of your voice, the frustration and how your sex twitches every time he so much as breathes against it- against you. His lips kiss at the inside of your thighs, his tongue soothing over where he bites. Your heels dig into the comforter, and hands twist the fabric and reach for anything to just hold tightly. There’s a desperate want in him, something so primal and so him, that he needs to touch every inch of your skin, to kiss and bite until he’s satisfied. It’ll always go past his sin with you, past anything that you could ever begin to fathom and he’s leaving his mark on you, decorating you with everything that he is. Your hands run through his hair, and he can feel how warm his own body is, sweat slick against his forehead and burning his cheeks. He’s grateful that you can’t see him in this moment, and though you would find him beautiful, he needs the moment of pure lust and adoration to be just his for a moment. 

Deciding that you’ve been teased just enough, he finally meets your sex with his tongue. The tip of his muscle swirls around the pulsing bud, every beat of your want and hunger vibrates against his tongue. His mouth trails down, tongue slipping into your entrance, tasting your sweet arousal that pours out in honeyed strands and slips down his throat and warms his own desire. The tip of his nose brushes against your clit with every push and swirl of his tongue and lips, every moan that trembles past your lips pushes him deeper against you, smothered by your sex and thighs. Blood rushes to his ears and his face is sticky with your arousal, and you are shameless and inviting, calling out his name with such amour, chest heaving with every breath and moan. Asmodeus pulls away with a lazy cunning smile and wet lips, your body shaking in the afterglow, and without waiting for you to calm from your high, he returns to your sex, his index and middle finger squirming inside of your silky walls.

Beelzebub: 

Eating Out - Beelzebub Ed.

Belphegor:

Belphegor’s sin embeds itself into his whole being, it makes his whole body feel heavy as if he were carrying weights on his shoulders. Everything is such a chore to the youngest brother, and it shows in his movements. Sex isn’t always so slow, but it’s the lead up to it that makes it feel as if he’s intentionally teasing you, pushing you to the brink with every lick and feel of his touch. He’s slow, kissing at your sex with such a heaviness, his tongue swiping against your folds and face buried into your sex. It’s all so sweet and tantalizing, making your body arch and curl, hands fisted into his hair as he can feel your sex throb against his tongue. He doesn’t mean to tease you, but it isn’t as if he's sorry about the results.

It’s late and both he and you should be asleep, but he can’t help it. You couldn’t help yourself to him, kissing him and grinding your hips over his. His eyes are closed, heavy from sleep and your own lust that fills his lungs and lingers on his tongue. It would be silly of him to deny you anything, not when you’re kissing him so sweetly, not when your own taste is more alluring than sleep at the moment. You’re on your back and the covers are pushed to the side, teetering towards the edge of the bed and his hands make quick work to discard you of your clothes. You’re so warm, so soft and supple under him. His fingers sink into your thighs, into the soft mound of your stomach and without wasting a second, he dips his head between your thighs.

Slick already wets his lips, and pools on his tongue as the tip of this tongue licks a strip against your entrance. Your muscles twitch, a reflex as his tongue teases against your leaking cunt, arousal beading out in pearly strands. He lifts his head, nose grazing over your clit in a way that feels too hot and not enough, and his mouth latches on, suckling on the erect bud. Hands knit into his hair, his name mixed into moans as his cheeks hollow. He releases you with a pop, eyes half-lidded and face flushed; his erection is uncomfortable and strained in his pants, but it’s far too much work for him to actually do anything more than hump at the bed. Kisses are pressed against the inside of your thighs, close to the swell of your mound where his cheeks nules against it with every peck. Your thighs tense around his head, jerking under him and twitching with every kiss and pull until you’re trying to steer him with your hands still in his hair. 

You’re needier than before, whining and thrusting your cunt into his face, trying to find any form of friction and he’s partially to blame. He’s going so slow, kissing your sex as if it were the first time, as if he were really kissing you. It’s all wet- slick and drool stuck to his chin as you whine his name in a breathless pitch. You’re pulsing- throbbing with such a force that for a moment, he thinks you’ve been really pent up, but that thought is quickly washed away when you start muttering about how close you are. At that moment, all he can focus on is getting you there. The tip of his tongue swirls the bud, vibrations sent to your core as he moans so lightly against you. He swipes down to work his tongue inside of you, swirling around your entrance and inside of your velvety walls that twitch and leak with your arousal.

Nails drag down on your skin, and he keeps you still- as much as he can anyways. Your moans are growing, echoing against the walls and reverberating in his ears, his mind only filled with you and everything silenced by you. He keeps himself fastened between your sex, unrelenting to give up his own space, never wanting to part from you without feeling everything that you can give to him- every spasm and twitch memorized by his tongue, your taste forever embedded in his mind, and he understands what it’s meant to be hungry as he seeks your high. He commits al of you into his memory- your sounds, and the way you call his name, breathless and strained but still full of want and need. Your orgasm washes over him, spills onto his tongue and he lets out such a needy whine with his lips still kissing at your sex. A warm color spreads from your chest to your face, and you stare up at him with a lazy smile. Belphegor can feel his own smile begin to twitch into life as well. With his lips still slick with your arousal, he kisses you, undoing his pants and letting the tip of his cock slide between you.

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #i hope you like this!! #this one came out quicker!! #in terms of how long it took for me to write it #also!! apparently!! #there's a text limit when you use tumblr beta!! #which sucks!! #im unhappy with it!!

[spotify-kids-real]

not all people who read dead dove: do not eat are proshippers

yall i read this for the plot. also i suck ass at writing physical pain and reading it helps.

rant in tags put ur feeling abt them or smth IDK

#mainly making this because one of my friend who didnt know i read that was like #'isnt that proship?' #which is like #sometiems #im not reading for the ship #im reading because itll make me a better writer AND IVE READ EVERYTHING UNDER THE TAG I WAS READING #but apparently proshippers took the term #and i didnt know #which sucks i dont want people to think im a proshipper #also some people suck ass at tagging and when i block out certain tags some people didnt use the tag they were writing about?? #like damn #its been awhile since ive read a dd:dne fic tho

[demodoggonetired]

Steve walks into their shared apartment to a scene of Eddie face down on their surprisingly plush, thrifted sofa. Various campaign notebooks, sketches, and dnd guides left to spill out his bag onto the floor. 

"I'm home!" 

The only response is a tepid "hHh." as Eddie further burrows his face between the cushions and backrest of the couch. 

Setting aside his bag and keys, Steve strides over to his boyfriend. 

"What's that all about?"

The huddled form emits another "hn." 

"Is that so?" 

"mm."

He takes a seat beside Eddie’s head. Runs a soothing hand along the other’s shoulders, fingers splayed wide. Applies pressure with the heel of his palm. 

Eddie melts further, this time with a minor release of tension. The presence of the other already a balm in itself. 

“Does that mean game day ended badly?” 

Still mostly curled ridged and with as little motion as possible, Eddie shakes his head negative. 

“No?” Steve asks, incredulous. “So then your 9-hour ‘Super, Ultimat-‘ uh… shit… ‘Super. Ultra. Perfect-‘“

“sumpoe.” Eddie corrects punitively into the cushion.

“Sorry, so then your 9-hour ‘Super, Ultra, Mega, Perfect, One-Shot Extravaganza’ went off exactly as you wanted. And then instead of napping in our comfortable bed--that you’d insisted on slathering in pillows because you, and I quote, ‘Wanted to feel like you were being smothered by geese and also just like the jumbles of texture’--you chose to stay out on the couch? Do I have that right?”

“mhm. too bright. couldn’t make it.”

Steve glances at the bay window adorning their living room-kitchen area. Thankfully, enough time seems to have passed since Eddie returned home. The sun now set, the room awashed in its final red hues. 

Even still, as Steve manages to coax him to turn over onto his back, Eddie’s face remains tense. With a sneaking suspicion, Steve smooths out the wrinkle in Eddie’s brow and prompts further, “Yeah? Anything else?”

“head hurts. stomach. nauseous.”

Yea, exactly as he figured. 

“Babe, did you eat anything today? During the 9 hours y’all were at the table?”

…

“was distracted.”

Steve sighs then gives a reprimanding pinch to Eddie’s cheek. Not hard. He has some mercy for his ailing boyfriend.

Said boyfriend retaliates with a half-hearted, protesting squawk and grabs the offending hand, cuddling into it and biting Steve’s pinky finger. 

Steve lets it happen. 

Instead he choses to stare into the kitchen, subconsciously rubbing small circles into Eddie’s temple even as he’s nibbled. Thinks over what supplies and lighter foods they currently have. 

Half to himself, he comments “I think we still have some saltines left from Robin’s Soup Experiments last week. That should help soak up the stomach acid and get something in your stomach.” He looks back at Eddie laid across the cushions. “You can take some pain meds after that if you want.”

“mkay.”

Steve goes to stand, except-

“Eds, you’ll have to stop biting my hand if you want me to go get the crackers.”

“nope. mine now.” Another, harder bite is given to the digit. 

“Hey- Ow, ow, Eddie, Eds, stop.” A responding, equally harder pinch but this time to Eddie’s nose, lifting up and extricating his finger as he does so. 

“haaa- cheater. appreciate my love bites.”  

With a snort, Steve walks towards the kitchen and begins to collect his well-used, headache-relieving arsenal.

- - -

Later, after saltines and buttered pasta have been eaten and hot towels have cooled, the two lay cuddled in their indeed comfortable and pillow laden bed. Strong, dexterous fingers card through the other’s curls. Gentle nails along the scalp to chase away any lingering pain. 

“Thanks, Stevie. You’re a true lifesaver.” He snuggles into Steve’s chest just that little bit further. “My brain and stomach would have exploded without your care.”

“Well we can’t have that, you need those.”

“Then I’d never be able to DM another Sumpoe day for the group again.” Eddie untucks his head just enough to look at Steve imploringly. “Then you’d have to inherit the job of Dungeon Master as my next of kin and they’d Eat. You. Alive, Stevie!”

“Damn. Guess I better get to studying then, just in case.” The sarcasm drips off in waves.

Not one to be deterred, Eddie sits up and over Steve in a flash. Eyes sparkling with mischief and new ideas as his hands come up on either side of Steve’s face and grab into his jawbone. The hand that was running through Eddie’s hair now dislodged to his shoulder.

“Steve, Stevie-love, Bunny-bear, you’re so, so right. You need to be my DM assistant for our next one shot.” 

Matching his level of dramatics, Steve presses back into his designated pillow and drapes a hand across his forehead.

“Noooo. Don’t make me do it, I’ll be the one to pass away. I can’t keep up with all your funny little lizard voices.”

“But Stevieeee,” Eddie whines. He leans down so he’s level with Steve’s ear, feels the other shiver as he breathes out before adopting one of his ‘funny little lizard voices’ “I wants it!!”

Caught off-guard, Steve breaks, laughing as he flips them. “You’re such a nerd.”

Maintaining his kobold voice and batting his lashes, “But Stevie, I’m your little lizard nerd.”

“Hmm and damned if that doesn’t make me the lucky one.”

And should the next time Eddie hosts another Sumpoe, he happens to find a perfectly packed lunch with tidbits of all his favorite snacks, well then Steve’s just not ready to accept that inheritance yet.

#forgetting to eat all day due to distractions and giving yourself a hunger headache? couldn't be me (i forgot how much they SUCK) #sorry Eddie get projected onto (affectionately ) #thank you everyone for your kind words on the last fic #i offer you more slice of life because apparently that's what i keep finding myself writing lol #Steve ‘I will pack my loved ones lunches to show I care’ Harrington #in the way of #he never had anyone pack him a lunch as a kid so he would be over the moon to do it for others yet externally begrudging (and only a select #he’d be the type to think the little notes you can buy to put in your kid’s lunch are THE SHIT (he’s right) #he’d write sassy little responding comments on all the over the top motivational saying ones #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #my writing #my posts

[writingmoth]

i dont know how to say this but if you aren't ready to get your work beta read, don't get beta readers p.p

#it isnt about anyone here but boy #i started editing/beta reading years and years ago for money and most authors dealt well with my feedback #i mean im getting paid for giving feedback so #but some were just. Not ready #nowadays i dont do it for money anymore just for fun & for stories that interest me #and sometimes the author just. isnt ready. and i get it bc putting your work out there is fightening #but im NEVER rude/hostile #and it gets weird when you notice the author and/or their friends (yeah really) apparently arent happy with your feedback #at this point i dont know if i should be honest anymore and would rather just quit #whew #it sucks ass to be wary of making a comment on something even tho you are always careful with your words bc maybe the author wont react wel #im here to read and give feedback not walk around eggshells #ANYWAY #i will try to write today #wish me luck #ren.txt

[every-aj-needs-an-angel]

Chapter 11!! I’m very sorry but I’m taking full advantage of the AU here. I do know this is not at all how to take care of a tattoo but I seem to have massage on the brain this week and it didn’t even occur to me until it was too late so I'm sorry but they’ll just have to live in an AU whereby tattoos heal differently

Betting It All On Love

The suite was as quiet as a mouse late into midmorning. Both couples, finally settled in their relationships, had actually managed to get a decent amount of rest; only bothering to move from their cocoons when they could no longer ignore their stomachs, and even then they didn’t go far.

The girls had been the first to get up, so when Eddie and Steve finally emerged from the bedroom, there was already a random assortment of foods strewn all over the coffee table. Steve and Chrissy sat on the plush rug, passing food up to Robin and Eddie who were sprawled out on the sofas, only getting up to join their partners when all of their bellies were full. 

The foursome laid together chatting about their evening apart, Chrissy gushing over the proposal while Robin fondly rolled her eyes, although Steve could tell she secretly was pleased for them; and Robin regaling them with their night at the Glover’s. They’d had cocktails, far too many cocktails in Chrissy’s opinion, and Beth had regaled Robin with stories about the antics they had got up to on their cheerleading trips.

Eddie was enthralled, listening intently to every word of the life he missed out on with his best friend. Steve could tell he would’ve liked to be there to hear it from the horse's mouth, but Eddie had him wrapped so tightly in his arms, pressing absentminded kisses to his temple and playing with their rings as he shifted his grasp on Steve; their legs wrapped so tightly together Steve wasn’t sure he’d even be able to get up without falling face-first into the coffee table, so he felt that maybe Eddie wasn’t entirely disappointed either.

Eventually, they lapped into a contented silence, happy to just be together watching the sun beat down on the strip through the windows. Steve thought it’d be nice for them all to go home and make it their weekend thing to just spend lazy Sunday mornings curled up together, chatting about the intricacies of their week and doing nothing for a few hours.

He hadn’t even realised he'd been so relaxed that he’d dozed off until he awoke with the worst crick in his neck. Eddie stirred underneath him when he had accidentally flinched whilst rolling his neck, trying and failing to get the pain to ease.

“Sit up, and I’ll rub that for you,” Eddie offered, and no way was Steve going to turn down the opportunity to have Eddie’s hands on him.

Except Chrissy made a quiet disgruntled noise, “Ah, hon, I wouldn’t do that if I were you” she warned.

“Whaddya mean?” Eddie asked, affronted.

“Eddie, darling, my beloved best friend, I love you but, unfortunately for you, you’re the worst at massages,” she told him empathetically, as Robin snorted a laugh from under her arm.

“Am not!” Eddie squawked.

Chrissy snorted and raised her eyebrows, “No? Remember when Ronan dropped me? The PT sent me home with those stupid exercises, and you said “If it’s hurting I can massage it for you” I swear my neck still hasn’t recovered,” she teased, looking over to Steve, “Unfortunately your husbands got talon fingers, so if you want your muscles to still work, don’t let him anywhere near you!”

Steve had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep from smiling too broadly, as Eddie huffed and threw himself dramatically back against the arm of the couch. 

“Y’know insteada bickering we could just take advantage of the fact that his hotel has one of the fanciest spas in the country?” Steve reasoned.

“Oooh, spa day!” Chrissy squealed at the same time Robin grouched, “Ugh, spa day!”

It wasn’t that Robin was really opposed to the whole spa experience, in fact, once she actually got into the spirit of it she really enjoyed getting pampered, she just needed to seem reluctant to join in. He had tried to explain that it wasn’t selfish to do something to make herself feel good every once in a while, but it was like she just couldn’t accept it, always grumbling something about her parents and never really wanting to talk about it. Not that it stopped him from affectionately bullying her into experiences he knew she loved but would never choose to do for herself.

Steve had been surprised when the receptionist had told them to come right down, but when he was promptly handed a mimosa and directed into a hot tub, he wasn’t exactly going to complain.

He sighed heavily as the bubbles and the steam worked their magic, relaxing him from the inside out. Chrissy seemed to be the only one enjoying the experience with him, giggling happily as she poked him in the thigh with the tip of her toe. Robin was still pretending to be blighted and Eddie seemed to have gone suddenly shy since they'd been asked to remove all their jewellery, his arms crossed tightly over his chest watching sullenly as Steve's leg reached across the hot tub to poke Chrissy back, making her squeal with delight.

Steve reached down to take Eddie’s hand but found it was gripping tightly onto the edge of the seat, so he changed course and put his hand on his knee instead, leaning heavily into his space and planting a quick kiss on his cheek, “Y’okay?” he asked, but Eddie only nodded solemnly and just as Steve opened his mouth to ask what was wrong their names were called, and before he knew it he was laid out on a table next to Eddie in a room full of candles and essential oils, getting every knot in his body dissolved until he felt like he was floating on a cloud.

The masseurs left the room eventually and Steve found it took real effort to even lift his head, so he could turn to look at Eddie, who was already facing Steve, but his eyes were closed and, if the soft snores and drool pouring out the side of his mouth was anything to go by, was already fast asleep. He took the opportunity to close his eyes too, he wasn’t sure what Eddie and Chris had planned for the rest of their trip, but he hoped maybe they could spend the evening doing whatever Eddie wanted to do, just so they could put a smile back on his face.

He awoke when his name was softly called as he was manoeuvred into a giant fluffy dressing gown, helped to his unsteady feet and guided down a corridor, the only thing keeping him from a total state of bliss was being unable to see Eddie, but it wasn’t long before he was reunited with his three companions.

They were all lounging by a huge pool, steam rising steadily from its surface. Chrissy looked lost in the amount of fabric she was wrapped in, especially as she poked her tongue out as far as it would reach, trying to reclaim the straw poking out of her fruity cocktail. Robin didn’t look like she had to energy to hold anything, practically moulded into the sun lounger below her, glancing at Steve out the corner of her eyes, so she wouldn’t have to move her head.

Eddie smiled sleepily at him, patting the empty sun lounger next to him, practically waiting with his name on it, but it’d been ages since he’d had a proper swim and the water looked too good to resist. Leaning over Eddie he kissed him deeply, tangling his fingers into his bun with one hand and undoing the tie on his dressing gown with the other before in one swift motion he released Eddie, threw the fluffy towelling over his feet and within three strides threw himself into the water, diving in as graceful as a dolphin, as he’d always been.

The water felt amazing against his skin, but his muscles were too relaxed to do more than a few laps and he didn’t want to get out, but he also didn’t want to be so far from Eddie, so he swam up to the side where they were laid watching him, and called out, “C’mon guys, the water's great!”

Chrissy darted up like she wanted to get in but leaned slowly back against the chair as Robin flopped a dismissive arm at him. Eddie was just staring dazedly at his chest, seemingly tracing water droplets as they dribbled down his chest. Steve took it as a win, he’d always received the most attention as a teen when his adoring fans had been watching him glide up and down.

He was just considering getting out and going to sit in Eddie's lap when Robin purposefully cleared her throat, giving him a look that said don't you dare! Which was fair enough but if he wasn't allowed to ravish his husband, the least she could do was entertain him, “Bobbie,” Steve whined, splashing water at her, successfully landing a stream of water against her legs. 

She scowled and sighed heavily, “You’re not gonna stop until I get in, are you?”

Steve put on his best puppy dog eyes, the ones he knew she couldn’t ignore, “S’lonely in here all by myself,” he pouted.

She raised her eyebrows, glared at him for a second and threw herself out of the chair, hurling the dressing gown off her shoulders and dashing at him, “You’re gonna regret that Steeby” she yelled, cannonballing into the water. Surfacing quickly to chase him around the pool, splashing him in the face whenever she caught up with him. “Not showing off now!” she cackled, and she jumped on his back and pushed him under the water, enjoying tugging each other into the depths until they’d worn themselves out, Robin calling time as she hacked water out of her lung.

Chrissy was sitting up watching them, like a puppy stuck behind patio doors watching other dogs play, “Come join us,” Steve called, he didn’t want her to feel like she couldn’t join in if she wanted to. She got up, immediately flicking her dressing gown excitedly into her vacant seat, and then glanced at Eddie and sat straight back down.

“It’s fine, you go,” Eddie muttered, playing with a loose strand on the tie of his robe, purposefully not looking at any of them.

“S’fine, I don't mind,” Chrissy mumbled back, picking her drink back up.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked, because the more he thought about it, the more he realised Eddie had been in a weird mood since he’d suggested they go to the spa. Admittedly, he hadn’t thought much of it when he’d seen Eddie’s trunks were brand new, most people bought new clothes when they were going on holiday, but maybe?

“Nothing,” they both answered far too quickly, Chrissy now not looking at them either as Robin swam over to join him by the side of the pool.

Steve glanced between them both and was about to let it go when Eddie sighed heavily, “I can’t swim,” he admitted to his hands, “I had lessons, four years worth but…” he trailed off with a shrug. 

Steve suddenly felt terrible for showing off. He pushed himself out of the water, throwing on his robe and waving Chrissy into the water, waiting for her elegant splash before sitting himself down on the end of Eddie’s lounger, pulling his feet into his lap, listening to the girls giggling as he thought how best to broach such a topic.

It was obviously something he was self-conscious about, and he didn't want to make it worse, but it was something he needed to know. Summers learning to surf wouldn’t be possible if Eddie was terrified of water.

Luckily, Eddie saved him from trying to start the conversation, “I can swim, like I won’t drown if you throw me in there, but I’m not good at it,” he muttered.

Steve nodded in understanding, not everyone was a strong swimmer and it wasn’t something to be ashamed of, “Robin’s not a strong swimmer either,” Steve told him, effectively snapping Eddie’s attention to him

“She’s not?” Eddie asked in disbelief.

“No, have you not being watching her?” Steve asked with a breathy chuckle. Eddie did look around him then, watching Robin as she squealed and kicked wildly, barely keeping her head above the water.

Eddie looked back at Steve with a furrow between his brow, “What’s she doing in there then?” he asked like it was the stupidest thing she could possibly do.

“She loves it! Plus she knows she’s perfectly safe,” Steve admitted, smiling gently at Eddie.

He watched Eddie process what he'd said, watched the minute expressions as he thought about it, dazedly watching Robin over his shoulder, “But you’re not watching her,” Eddie murmured.

Steve smiled a little cockily, shrugged nonchalantly, “I know where she is.” 

It’d just been something he had found himself scarily good at, whether through instinct or practice, he couldn’t honestly say. The first summer after Billy had moved to Hawkins, it was like he was trying desperately trying to prove something to himself, hitting on as many girls as humanly possible, nearly getting himself fired on several occasions.

All the while he had actually been stalling, hanging around and waiting for Billy to see him flirting with whatever pretty brunette had caught his eye, as he came out to take over his shift. Billy would do it too, like they were simultaneously in some weird competition with each other and at the same time trying not to spend too long in each others proximity.

Strangely, all the not paying attention to the pool had actually made him a better lifeguard, like he could use his peripheral and hearing to recognise where people were, could pinpoint an accident waiting to happen better when it didn't have his undivided attention.

“How?” Eddie asked, a little starry eyed.

“Swim team co-captain for three years, lifeguard for five,” Steve admitted, scratching the back of his neck, for all his prowess he didn’t actually want him to feel like he was rubbing it in his face.

“C’mon Teddy,” Chrissy yelled from the shallow end of the pool.

“Evie won’t let anything bad happen to you,” Robin chimed in.

“You don’t have to,” Steve cautioned, “We can just cuddle up here,” he offered.

Except Eddie had already set his shoulders like he was determined not to let something spoil his good time, and Steve wasn’t about to argue with him. 

They ended up having a lot of fun, playing Marco Polo, eventually venturing into deeper water when Robin and Eddie wanted to play chicken. Steve did have a moment of panic when Robin pushed Eddie backwards off of his shoulders, but when Eddie came up laughing and demanding vengeance, Steve was more than happy to breathe a sigh of relief.

When Chrissy was retying her hair after Robin had nearly tugged out a chunk of it trying to save herself from crash landing in the water, Chrissy had lost the tie and while the three of them debated who should have to go down to fetch it, Steve just dunked himself under the water and brought it back with a grin.

Except instead of Chrissy being able to tie her hair back up, Robin snatched it from his fingers and flung it into the water, turning it into some weird game of fetch. Even Eddie had a go whenever it got flung into shallower waters but eventually the girls ended up in the deep end of the pool and were so caught up in whatever they were chatting about they hadn’t noticed they’d left Eddie behind.

Steve didn’t want to ruin their fun or draw any unnecessary attention to the fact that they’d been separated, so he casually scooped Eddie into his arms, making him laugh

“Having a good day?” Steve asked as he secured Eddie’s arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his bicep.

Luckily for Steve, Eddie took it as him being romantic, which he supposed it was in a way, “Mhmm,” Eddie hummed, locking his own legs around Steve’s waist, “Are you?”

Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie’s back and started casually walking into the deeper water, “I’m having a wonderful day, I’m with you,” he declared, humming happily as Eddie kissed him, using the distraction to tread water over to their friends, Eddie only realising what he’d done when his back hit the pool wall.

He narrowed his eyes playfully at Steve in a I know what you just did way but he didn’t look upset by it, just snuggled closer into Steve as he held onto the side of the pool to make sure his legs wouldn’t get too tired.

Chrissy seemed to notice as she glanced up to the top of the pool, but other than an apologetic look, she didn’t draw attention to it. She did, however, thank Steve when they finally got out of the pool, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and giving his cheek a quick peck as Robin and Eddie got further into their discussion about working hours and the blight of capitalism.

The foursome eventually headed back to the suite, intending to order room service for a late lunch but got back to find someone had left a message. Steve tried not to listen but although the space was large it wasn’t big enough not to hear Charlie’s voice coming through the speaker after the beep, “Chrissy!” Charlie cheered, followed by a purposefully flat, “Brother mine!” making them all laugh. “Just wondering if I’d be seeing you before you head home tomorrow? I know you’re both grossly in love, but spare five minutes for your favourite sibling?” Charlie pleaded.

Steve could practically hear the puppy dog eyes and tried to focus on that because if he thought too much about spending a night without Eddie, or about going home, he thought he might just sit in a ball and bawl like a baby. 

“I’m performing tonight,” Charlie announced flirtatiously, “Come down, you can finally meet Riley,” they added, and even Steve could hear how they were trying not to make it sound like a big deal and how much it obviously was a big deal that Eddie met his sibling's partner or at least partner to be. “Bring the spouses, of course!” Charlie tacked on, and it was impressive how they sounded simultaneously like it was obvious that they should be there but needed to use a faux exasperation to make sure they knew their partners were welcome.

Steve thought it must’ve been tough while they’d both been with Carver’s, he doubted either of them had been very warm to or accepting of Charlie; he wondered absently if that was one of the reasons Charlie had upped and moved across the country, hoped maybe he’d get a chance to ask.

It sounded like they were about to hang up when the phone crackled, “Oh,” Charlie yelled like they’d forgotten something, “You better have proposed, Teddy, or I’m doing it for you! If I have to tell you again how in love with you, he is, I might hurl,” Charlie really did sound exasperated that time and Steve wondered just how many pep talks Eddie had needed. The couple smiled at each other across the space until Eddie blushed and looked away as Charlie signed off, “Okay, love you both. Kisses.” Beep.

It was a lot of emotions for a message that lasted less than a minute. For as much as it had ended on a high, Steve couldn’t help the sinking feeling in his chest. He knew they were leaving, he and Robin were heading home themselves the day after, but the thought of actually going home terrified him because what if things weren’t the same? What if they went home and fell out of love as fast as they’d fallen in? 

What if Eddie had only fallen for him because of some kind of Nevada magic? And whatever had put Eddie under its spell had only ever intended for them to be a holiday romance. 

Or worse, what if Eddie did love him but something awful happened? What if he never saw Eddie again?

Steve could feel his breaths quickening and Eddie appearing at his side seemingly out of nowhere, made him jump out of his skin as Eddie lightly grazed his arm, but as Steve glanced up into those coffee ringed depths, so full of love and concern, Steve felt awful for even allowing those thoughts in. He knew Eddie loved him and even if there ever came a time when he didn’t, well, they could cross that bridge when they came to it. 

Eddie pressed a grounding palm against his forearm, slipping his hand up to hold onto Steve’s elbow, tugging him gently but purposefully into his embrace, pressing their foreheads together, feeling all at once a comfort and a promise.

Robin declared loudly that her and Chrissy were going out to eat and that they’d be back later, offered for them to join without actually giving them the opportunity to agree, making them chuckle, and dragged a giggling Chrissy out of the suite. When he opened his eyes to thank her and tears dripped down his cheeks, she just smiled tightly and nodded, pulling the door gently closed behind her. 

They both sniffled and kissed the tears off of each others faces, pulling closer, holding tighter, and Steve felt comfort in that knowledge that Eddie didn’t want to leave him as much as he didn’t want to leave Eddie. They kissed desperately, tugging hair and grasping waists and shoulders, never being able to keep their hands still.

Somehow they gravitated toward the sofa, Eddie flopping gracelessly down into the cushions, and it was only as he tugged on Steve’s hand for him to follow that it even registered in his consciousness. 

It was only then that it hit him that this was probably going to be the last time they’d get to be together, completely sober, before they left Vegas, and the thought of it just being a quick thing on the couch made his stomach turn. He wanted the chance to worship every inch of Eddie, to map his body like a lost pirate, and have the memory of it, just in case.

Steve shook his head gently and watched Eddie spring to his feet before he even had chance to speak around the lump forming in his throat, “What’s wrong?” Eddie asked, hands hovering over Steve, wanting to touch but unsure he was allowed.

He swallowed hard, shook his head again, “Nothing’s wrong,” he whispered, taking Eddie’s hands in his and kissing along his knuckles, then up his hand and along his wrist.

Eddie pulled his arm away before Steve had chance to get any further, “Stevie,” he breathed, concern pulling his brows together.

Pulling their hands back between them, Steve looked deeply into Eddie’s eyes and whispered, “Take me to bed, baby. Please.” It came out whiny, but Steve couldn’t find it in himself to care, not when Eddie let go of one of his hands to cup his jaw and brush his thumb over his cheek.

Not when he nodded and whispered “Okay,” not when he smiled like that and started slinking backwards towards the bedroom, tugging Steve along after him.

--------------------------------------------------

the angels on the tag list ❤️ @estrellami-1 @auroraplume @gregre369 @adhdsummer @nerdfighteratheart @anaibis @dolphincliffs @hbyrde36 @marinarasarah @deadflowercollector @lunabookworm @a-couchpotato @wonderland-girl143-blog @ddharrington @abstractnaturaldisaster @lololol-1234 @bestwifehaver @steviejeebiez feel free to lmk if you want removing 💖

#okay i'm gonna stop editting this now and just let you have it #mainly bc i'm five minutes from deleting the whole thing #sorry it sucks #here i go again!! projecting onto eddie this time #sorry for making them suffer again i know i promised i'd stop but apparently this is just who i am now #grammar fuck ups and tense changes everywhere #steddie vegas au #steddie au #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #platonic stobin #platonic hellcheer #background buckingham #steve's pov #aj writes

[amethystina]

Hey <3 really sorry to bother you, I read Who Holds the Devil since day 1, I absolutely love it. Do you know when a new chapter will be posted ? Take care

Hi there! I'm glad that you like it! And thank you so much for staying faithful to the fic for so long 💜

Unfortunately, this is what we call "catching me at a bad time" since today I've received unsolicited criticism, opinions, and/or complaints (some of them valid) on three separate fics, from three different people. So I'm kind of having my doubts about the whole "writing fanfics" thing right now. Or at least the "posting fanfics" thing.

(That'll pass, don't worry. I'm just being dramatic because I'm still trying to process and overcome all these new doubts and anxieties I didn't ask for but suddenly have to deal with)

On top of that, you happen to be the second person to ask me this question today, which is in no way helping my current situation. I'm pretty sure that wasn't your intention, but yeah.

Also, I'm afraid I might be getting sick again so, uh, there's that, too.

So, to be entirely honest with you, I don't know. I had hoped to get back to it sooner than this, but things are kind of difficult right now even if we ignore the shitshow today has been for me, my confidence, and my writing.

As always, I promise I'll post as soon as I'm able but, right now, I can't say when that'll be. So please be patient for a little while longer :)

You take care too 💜

#Amethystina Replies #Anonymous #I promise it'll pass #And I will get back to writing it #Hopefully soon #Today is just a VERY bad day for this question #Because one of the fics in question was Who Holds the Devil #And... uh... #The comment hit me where it hurts #In that sort of way where even if it's just a single person saying their personal opinion #Which they're entitled to #And they claim it wasn't meant to be negative #I'm still second-guessing EVERYTHING now #Since it's such an important part of the fic #And something I take so much pride in #And it doesn't matter that it's one of the things other people have praised me for since the very beginning #Because anxiety doesn't care about logic #And all I can see is that I apparently failed at something I thought I was doing well on #So yeah #Today kind of sucks

[likegoldintheair]

it's crazy to see a fandom basically crash and burn in a matter of months

#and yes i know there's still people there who aren't completely batshit #but man. it must be so tiresome #for everyone involved #but also. it's not even about that #i feel like the fun got sucked out of it ages ago #people stopped writing fics or creating art because they were treated as content creators #rather than as people (period) #and there were so many instances where it felt like you couldn't say what you wanted or express an opinion #because you'd get burnt at the stake if it didn't line up with what a certain group of people thought #it also annoyed the fuck out of me the way people were throwing around media literacy and how people who had different INTERPRETATIONS #were media illiterate or idiots or 'didn't know the source material' #fucking assholes all over the place let's be honest #i hate that a few people ruined the fun for me (and apparently for a bunch of other people as well)

[ikemenomegas]

Megumi is objectively very handsome. (He looks like his dad, so what else is he going to be?) Now on top of that, he's skilled with a famous, rare technique, and if he survives he's going to be the head of his clan or more likely Maki's right hand. He's a very desirable mate in the sorcerer world. You're no slouch yourself but you don't really see it because all you can see is him. And it has the unfortunate side effect of making this alpha incredibly pathetic.

They know he's desirable. They've probably seen others try and confess to or flirt with him and it gave them a panic attack. So if the choice is between panicking while others steal him, or panicking while they try their luck... well they can only do something about one of those things. And they try, a couple of times. At least a few of those times, it stresses them out enough to make them run away crying and Megumi is baffled. Luckily he likes sincerity and they're much less hm "like that" when they do their job. It's also memorable and no one else can compete with that.

(This could work with another sorcerer or non-sorcerer, but I think it's funnier with a sorcerer.)

Nanami wanted nothing to do with the sorcerer world if he could help it, but he also wouldn't be very happy if he had to keep a whole part of himself separate. He never planned on going back to the sorcerer world, so it's entirely possible he also never planned on mating with another sorcerer once his life in the human world was established.

Whether or not this alpha can see curses is perhaps up to further discussion. Being able to see them would in some ways make dealing with this (this being feelings) easier, for Nanami. It would also be safer if his alpha couldn't see curses, even though it means they have no understanding of why he fights (or so Nanami thinks). There's no dramatic meet cute or meet messy for this one, I just think they're probably neighbors. They work in the same sector so you have the same hours, but probably not the same company. It means they can't talk about anything work related and are forced to socialize about friend things - hobbies, complaining about coworkers, weekend plans.

(If we're sticking with canon) The only sad or unusual part is when he suddenly disappears. They knew that he'd changed jobs - suddenly he was traveling a lot more - but one day he just doesn't come back. Then someday later on, people come to clear out his apartment and that's the end of Nanami Kento in their life. They never forget him though, even if they go on to mate with someone else.

In the "good ending" version of everything, Nanami eventually gets back out of the sorcerer game, and either comes up with a believable excuse for his resulting scars or tells the alpha what happened and they keep a healthy distance from the magical madness for the rest of their lives.

#from the margins #Been really sleepy and stressed this week #which means i end up thinking all of my writing sucks and will never not suck -_- #other people who write know exactly what i'm talking about #so doing something short and fun is a way to keep posting while giving myself space for rest #also had a deep need for something a little sweet #after weeks and weeks of my son suffering one of those fates worse than death experiences #fushiguro megumi #nanami kento #jjk #alpha!reader #omegaverse #I like sorcerer oc's because even though that job is terrible it apparently pays well and you get to have super powers #but I also have to be honest that not every sorcerer wants to be partnered with another sorcerer #knowing your partner could always die seems terrible

[true-blue-sonic]

A story I wrote just now based on this post, wherein I discuss some headcanons I have about Silver and his survival skills. Specifically around my ideas of how he views cooking and eating in the past! Also an Espilver fic because I love these two <3

Word count: 1493 words

Cooking for two sweet-toothed picky eaters is a challenge every day, but luckily Espio likes cooking.

“So today we are making spaghetti. You’ve had it before, you like it,” the chameleon explains, rummaging around in their little storage in the cabinets for his first ingredient: the garlic. With the cloves rapidly freed the ninja places their encasings, the peels, in their tiny organic waste bucket at the sink. No clutter for him while he is cooking, and besides, finally he has someone who actually listens to the manners he’s trying to teach the entire Chaotix. Silver has truly taken a shine to the kitchen as well, popping in every single day to learn more about food and all its peculiarities, and today is no different.

Behind Espio the hedgehog nods most seriously, peering over at the utensil drawer as Espio grabs the things they’ll need. “I’ll help. What are you doing?” follows, as it has every single day since Espio decided he wouldn’t mind having some company in the kitchen, and the chameleon smiles.

“I’m cutting the garlic so it is small enough to cook with. Normal people use a garlic press for this, but unfortunately we live in a household of lunatics, so I need to use a knife,” he tells the other, deftly cutting the cloves into miniscule cubes. Not an issue for a skilled ninja, and besides, it had been him who insisted kitchen devices like garlic presses were a waste of money anyway. As it stands, he is the only one who ever would make use of it, and the chameleon prefers a swift training of his skill with the blade alongside an opportunity to show off to anyone watching him chop up the food at lightning speed. Charmy can’t use any such tools because he is not allowed to cook, Vector’s culinary prowess limits itself to heating up ramen noodles and ruining pudding, and Silver...

Espio turns around to brag about just how perfectly cut his garlic cubes are, right on time to see his beloved pull his hand out of the organic waste bucket and shove all remnants of the bulb into his mouth.

“...Silver,” the chameleon brings out.

A hum follows amidst odd crunching noises Espio rather would not have lent an ear to.

Standing stupefied the chameleon blinks, having half a mind to push his voice into the tone that occasionally works on Charmy when the bee is misbehaving. “Spit. That. Out.”

The hedgehog in question freezes in his curious chewing, face stuck between a vibe of What In The World Am I Doing intermixed with Why Am I Being Scolded. “Vhwat?” follows muffledly, as Espio places his knife on the cutting board and dives towards the other to grab his chin. “Hmgh- Espwioh!”

“Out,” Espio orders, tensing his hold and puffing up Silver’s cheeks... and his beloved coughs as the whole peel gets spat out indeed, and the writhing in the ninja’s arms stops in favour of staring owlishly at the clump on the counter.

“.......Hm,” follows, somewhat disheartened. “That was, uh...”

“Not something we are supposed to be doing, now is it?” Crossing his arms Espio shoots the hedgehog a worried glare... which grows even more worried as Silver vigorously shakes his head.

“No, that’s not what I mean. Tastes great, Es!”

“...It cannot.”

“No, really! It’s... good.”

“Silver, it is waste. We cannot eat this,” Espio explains, lovingly smacking at Silver’s powers as sparks of cyan reach out for the slightly-drool-covered bulb remnants once more. “You stop that. What are you even doing, going through our waste like a raccoon?”

“Es, you always say we can’t waste food! And that stuff is food!” the disapproving retort comes, though now it is the chameleon’s turn to shake his head.

“Tenshi, you are incorrect. When preparing ingredients, there simply are some parts that cannot be eaten. Those have to be thrown away. And that includes the bulb of the garlic; we can only eat the cloves I’ve been cutting.” But it does explain some things he’s wondered about ever since Silver has joined their household, the chameleon muses; namely how the hedgehog often seems two seconds away from rummaging through any bin, eats everything, has become Charmy’s number one plate cleaner when the bee doesn’t want to finish his dinner, and seems to hold some very odd opinions around eating. “And you are not in the ruined future anymore,” Espio adds more gently as Silver opens his mouth for a protest. “I know this might seem like a strange thought, but this is how it works here. Uh, just like how we cook food too, and don’t eat it raw. You found that strange too, right?”

“That is because it is,” the pointed response follows, though mercifully Silver’s eyes drift away from the garlic peels towards Espio’s minced cubes the chameleon still has not been able to brag about. “So I can’t eat those like that either,” gets added slowly, Espio shaking his head with a laugh.

“No, you cannot, that would be nasty... even if I think you actually might be able to but that means I don’t have enough for the recipe and I need to cut more. Speaking of, it’s very nice cubes, is it not?”

Crouching in front of the counter, Espio’s hand at the ready to intercept in case his beloved gets any ideas about giving the garlic a small nibble all the same, Silver studies it. “Tiny,” his verdict is. “...Can’t I just eat one? Just to try it? Maybe it’s great.”

“Just as great as the peel, hm?” Espio can’t help but tease, lifting up one bit of minced garlic with the tip of the knife so Silver’s powers can grab it... and promptly the chameleon laughs at how Silver’s face falls the very moment the stuff enters his mouth, into a look of pure, allicin-induced unhappiness. Living in a ruined future also has given the hedgehog little idea about flavours other than nasty and gross, but that does mean many things can be overwhelming for him, even if said hedgehog merely swallows and pushes a smile on his face once more.

“It’s nice, Es.”

“Liar,” the ninja easily retorts with a smirk.

A deep sigh follows. “A little,” Silver laments, flopping himself against Espio. “Eating food is weird. Never could have thought something like eating would be so complicated.”

“You’ll get used to it in no time.” Fingers moving up to give Silver an encouraging stroke over his quills the chameleon muffles another laugh at the way his psychic’s nose wrinkles. The stench of garlic is clear on his gloves as Espio gives them a whiff himself; not suitable for supporting caresses, that much is certain. “How about you help me with using this garlic to make a very tasty dish, then? You liked the spaghetti the last time,” he proposes as a peace offer instead.

Ears perking up Silver nods vigorously, Espio grabbing a pan from the cabinets. “Fill this for two-thirds with water and place it on the stove, I’ll handle the fire. And after that, grab the spaghetti. We can put it in when the water is warm enough.”

“Will do!” the chipper response comes, garliccy drama seemingly already forgotten as Silver darts away to the sink and Espio uses his distraction to swiftly swipe the garlic peel right into the closable trash can. His perfectly minced and sadly-not-very-appreciated cubes of garlic end up in another pan, alongside the tomato sauce and the package of discounted vegetables... before Espio freezes at a peculiar noise.

“Silver,” the ninja calls out warningly over his shoulder at the crunching sounds of his beloved nibbling a string of uncooked spaghetti, a laugh merely following.

“This one is nice, Es.”

With a flick of the lighter the stove gets turned on, Espio shaking his head as he wrenches the package of noodles from the other’s hands. “Incorrigible, you. Will you try to drink the sauce next if I leave you here unattended?”

“It does look tasty,” the prompt response follows alongside Silver’s golden gaze curiously studying that pan in question, and Espio can only laugh as he quickly intercepts and directs his beloved towards the kitchen chairs instead; from here on there is little the hedgehog can do anyway, as Espio doesn’t want to let him too close to a lit stove yet, and thus his role falls back to being his cheerful encouraging self that makes cooking just a bit more enjoyable. Incorrigible or not, Espio wouldn’t want to have Silver any other way, and besides, it’s nice to finally not have to deal with a picky eater to cook for...

But perhaps he does need to explain the differences between food and waste a bit more clearly, just in case.

Not needing to cook for a picky eater means nothing if he needs to fish Silver out of every trash can because of that, after all.

Author’s notes:

Not originally planned but this fic goes out to my absolute barbarian friend who just monched uncooked spaghetti straight from the packaging while I was scolding her in abject horror, luv you <3

I hope you enjoyed reading!

#espilver #silver the hedgehog #espio the chameleon #blue's writing #sonic the hedgehog #love the idea of Espio being a Smug Bastard just bragging about how nicely cut his garlic cubes are lol #all the appreciation Vector and Charmy do not have for his cooking are returned two-fold by Silver!! <3 #in case people are confused by the organic waste bucket: I have an empty yoghurt bucket thing on my counter that I yeet my organic waste in #and then once every few days I meander down to the communal waste area to put it in the organic waste trash can there #it sucks and is gross😂 #and also apparently you *can* eat raw garlic and it *might* even be healthy!! Maybe #I wouldn't try it myself at least!😂

[trans-estinien]

need to get a metaphorical flag that just says IM TECH LITERATE on it to wave around

#i swear to god. why does everyone think gen z is tech illiterate #actually thats kinda correct. ive had to teach people how to save documents before. #but not meee i know how computers work. #and if i dont know. i just ask my dad. or like. google it. #cant wait till i start working and have people by default try to explain how computers work to me #also genz sucks at writing. apparently??? #i think i write kinda mid but then every adult EATS it up like its candy #its wild like ??? ? ?? is this really that good??? #and then i read what my friends are writing and im like. oh. ohhhhhh. #thank you final fantasy xiv and its usage of big words #i think its great a lot of genz stereotypes dont really apply to me. like idk what the rest of us are doing but im chilling.

[altruistic-meme]

never underestimate the power combo of procrastinating and failure anxiety. I've written ~7k words in like 4 days. im going crazy im going stupid.

#oh fucking hell man #ive been doing sprints witha. discord group and its been NITS #NUTS #like every 15/20min sprint i get ~500 words somehow. #which is apparently a lot #i cant wait to be done with writing this fic tho #ive got ONE scene o have to complete and then its all editing babyyyyy #but alas i have work tomorrow including a meeting after which ~sucks~ bc i dont like when they tell us we have meetings #its NEVER good newd #but it means i ahve to go to bed now #and ill finish and run through it tomorrow after work and try and. get things done. #and THEN i can hand it to milo and FINALLY I CAN READ THEIR SHAKING KEVIN IN A BOTTLE FIC #ITS BEEN ME VS THIS MONSTER ALL MONTH SO I HET A REWARD ONCE ITS FINISHED #shh ac