#But imagine knowing the exact moment that you'll never get to see them again

[patchwork-crow-writes]

78 - Against Time's Tides

Time rolls in like the breaking of a wave over a sandy shore, inexorable and unstoppable, rendering the day's labours to nothing more than memory. And in this way, our days together shall soon come to an unceremonious end.

It seems such a cruel twist of Fate, that the very prophecy which allowed us to meet should so quickly part us. I've always known that it has to be this way, but it's one thing to know something intellectually, and quite another to feel the fabric of your heart fraying at the thought of it...

...wouldn't it be better if we...?

...no, I cannot think that - I mustn't. I have to be strong for us, I have to keep smiling for us, because if you found out... if you knew what I know, you'd... you'd definitely try and stop it. And oh, how bittersweet my heart sings to think of such defiance for our sake...!

But neither time nor destiny can be fought or negotiated with. You could no sooner prevent this than stop the sun from rising in the morning. You would be utterly crushed if you were to even attempt it, and I cannot allow any harm to come to either of you.

So don't ask those questions anymore, my dearest ones; let us while away the few hours we have left as friends ought, with laughter and idle chatter, adventures of no consequence and happy memories that will endure across time and space...

...and I'll try not to count the seconds until you have to go.

______________________________

The Dark Menagerie No. 78

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[hereforthehitsbaby]

Now Connecting... Cooper Adams/Abbott x F!Reader

Synopsis: Maybe the mysterious stranger next door isn't as grumpy, or shy as you thought.

Warnings: Smut, Mutual Masturbation, Sex Toys, Language, Angst, Shy/Grumpy Cooper at First,

Rating: M

Author's Note: Hey, what’s that over there? *runs away*

Word Count: 3K

Tagging: @rubyfruitjungle @cherryinterlude @lilly3434 @amethystblackkchaos @rosaleelovesdilfs @babygorewhore @dirtylittlefairytales @redpillbluepill @strangererotica

If you would like to be tagged for my fics, please fill this out

Vacations are suppose to be things of relaxation, not worrying about the mundane day to day. A time where you can let loose and be who you are, without judgement or differences. No one knows you, in fact you're almost like a ghost - here one day and gone the next It's fun, really fun to be that way - seeing people that you'll never see again. There is a rush being so close to strangers you have no idea what they will do, or what they will think - seeing you as a regular walker of life. Maybe the licks of confidence could be from the establishment where you were staying, or it could be from the mysterious people who wandered the halls like zombies. Suits, dresses, cases upon cases travelled up and down those carpeted halls - the echo's of business and pleasure radiating all around. There is no telling in where life will lead you all but, for some reason you are in this exact moment together - experiencing the same ticks and tricks with one another, though you may be rooms apart. Behind those closed doors, no one understands what each other are capable of - no how could they when it is all a mystery in the end? Business may be what brings them but, was it always as cracked up as it seemed? Was it really the type of business that you thought? No, of course not, it never was and it never would be in hindsight. But at the end of the day it was never your business, just move on and go forth with your time.

Getting the down time to take this vacation was the equivalent of pulling teeth. Your employer did not want to do anything in their power to let their best asset go for a period of time, then proceeded to get mad when you did not use your vacation time. It was a shit time all around - no matter what you had done it was like there was no pleasing the higher ups in a way. Not wanting to pay you out at the end of the year but still wanting you to take it - left you more confused and let down most days. Alas everything happens for a reason - right? It is possible to imagine the happiness and smirk on their face when you decided to take some well needed time off - leaving you to the suffices of the mortal realm rather than the hell hole you were about to crawl out of. For once it felt so nice to be free from all constraints of your job and be one with reality, not having to see the numbers or statistics of the bunch haunting your dreams like a demonic entity was enticing, calling your name further and further down in the end. You felt so relieved knowing you could walk away with no strings attached; No bosses weighing you down with out of work problems, or even being on call when jackass Todd wants to call out for another sporting event, (fuck you Todd!) This was your time now, one where you can remain vigilant and carefree; A life you have been destined to have. Your paradise was going to be in the shape of the United States. Specifically, Pennsylvania.

Philadelphia wasn't your top fifteen choices but, if you didn't visit your college roommate then she would've murdered you. Ever since the two of you graduated from your master’s program it was like the tides shifted per say; She had a new swanky job working as a full time pharmacist whilst you were working a 9-5 software job - building and breaking code - essentially being like Neo, but without sentient program agents trying to kill you. All of the excitement she thought this would be for you, she wanted to hear - in typical Marianna fashion after all. You agreed of course, and yet when you did you never anticipated the fact that she could get sick - especially for this day and age. It would be okay though, in hindsight it kind of needed to be per-say.

 The Embassy Suites would be your home for the next few weeks but that would be okay - everything was going to work out - it had to. In the back of your uber you watched as the blue skies molded into beauty with the sheer clouds - light speckles of greys and coal lacing the plush scenery; It would either snow or rain, a perfect lazy day in.

Disembarking from the car you waved your driver off, making sure to check out your ride whilst walking back to the hotel. Between the valet greeting you and the the concierge, you felt important, special in the eyes of strangers, a feeling so foreign to you. Out of the corner as you waltzed to the elevator's you could see the outline of a broad man; Chestnut hair in color, straight and slicked back, his jawline could cut glass. His autumn-colored sweater and mustard yellow jacket was something so basic, yet so enticing; Damn he could pull it off – he could make anything look good. Pads of boots could be heard striking the linoleum right in tandem with yours, causing your heart to race. For a moment you wished it was that mystery man residing at the check in desk with his suitcase - but then again you felt as if you were going to be too shy in the matter. Clicking the up button for the elevator you waited patiently, tucking your arms around your chest as you hum quietly. The footsteps stopped directly beside you, a pale skin form taking the same space up. Pulling your lip into a small smirk you swayed softly to this man's side, tilting your chin up to his tall form; "It's a good color on you," you spoke with sincerity, looking up at his gorgeous hazelnut eyes - wanting to dive into the journey of exploring them. Fuck, the fact that he had these little lines around his eyes when he smiled was so special - pulling you in closer as he flashes his toothy grin, the cutest gap sitting between. Nudging your shoulder with his upper arm, he spoke with conviction; "Thank you. Not as good as that blue though." The mystery man had a wink cascading over his form as the elevator doors open, his eyes once flicking to your exposed cleavage.

Following suit with his steps you pushed yourself into the metallic box after him - pressing yourself against the back corner as one does. Looking up at the numbered buttons you could see every single detail of this man's very large hands, causing you to swallow that pool of lust in your mouth; How would it feel to have his hands wrapped around your throat, or buried deep within you? Shaking those thoughts from your mind, you felt his intense gaze shine upon you - sending a warmth down your spine, noticing he was waiting for your floor number. "Uh, 15 please." You managed to choke out, not realizing how out of break you suddenly sounded. The man laughed as he nodded, clicking only the floor 15 button. "Well, looks like we are neighbors then. I'm Cooper." Holding his hand out for you, instantly you took it with a gentle grasp - shaking his hand up and down like a normal civilian, reciting your name for himself. Dropping it out of your own grasp softly, you giggled as you focused forward again, trying to keep your cool. "It is lovely to meet you, Cooper." Before he could respond, the double doors opened wide to reveal the plethora of rows where the elevators stood. Cream and burgundy colored carpeting stretched right up to the ends of every hallway, the soft material against your feet feeling like utter magic. It was a quickened shift when Cooper exited the elevator, nudging his head for you to follow.

"What room is yours?" It came out so naturally and free-falling, there was no pressure to shoo him away or even be weary of his intentions. Biting the inside of your lip you motioned to the left side of the hall, pointing to the 1500-1530 bracket, which caused Cooper to laugh. "Me too, room 1528." Your heart stopped in that moment, this had to be a fucking coincidence. "1527; Damn good job universe." It was a naturalized laugh that slipped from the mouth of Cooper, not forced or awkward in any way. It was nice to see a genuine human being after so many months of fake people coming through the wood works. The one thing that you did not like about this trek was that it was too short; Cooper and you came to your respected rooms far quicker than you anticipated. This was for certain that you would see him again - there wasn't a day in hell where you were going to let this man slip on by. Sliding your keycard over the tap screen, you sent Cooper a wink and closed the door, hearing his remain closed for a moment. There was a hefty sigh that was accompanied by thick words - ones that shot a spiral of heat into your aching sex; "Nice one Adams, way to ruin it with that cutie," Biting your lip at the phrase you pushed the deadbolt back into place, sighing out as you tossed yourself onto the bed. Staring up at the popcorned ceiling your mind could not help but wander at the thought of your next door neighbor; Those thick fingers so skilled and precise. His dialect so particular and pointed, the sways of his tongue with every syllable he annunciates. The small sweat breaking out on your forehead was enough proof that this man had taken over your mind, body and soul within minutes. The essences leaking from your clothed slit was not aiding in the fantasies.

Rolling over to your undone suitcase, you grabbed out your newest toy you managed to snag through TSA - smiling at how easy it was to conceal. You had always heard amazing things about the Satisfyer but now, getting to test it out, good lord you were excited. The enjoyment was bubbling more due to how this was app controlled - meaning anyone across the world could help make you cum. Turning on the device easily, you waited until the double buzz came to light before watching it connect - seeing the plethora of horny people piling in through your friend request. There was one specific name that caught your eye, one that really made your curious in the whole bunch. CA. The name itself was basic enough but, could it possibly be him? Curiosity piqued your interest when the message bubble came up quick after only a minute of accepting his request. Placing the air pulse hole directly onto your clit - you took deep breaths to calm yourself down, the excitement too much to handle. "Call?" The message read, causing your fingers to shake. With these apps you never really know who is behind the screen so to secure your identity, you hid your camera and mic - only planning to use it when you were so close to coming undone. Hitting that white button up top you waited and waited three rings, wondering if he would actually answer. "So, come here often?" the voice rang out, causing your cunt to become slick. It was YOUR Cooper. The smirk radiating through your mouth was enough to make a grown woman blush - devious in nature. Quickly you forked over the control of your vibe - only for it to be cancelled. It was just then that you were having the invite of mutual control, the equivalent of coming at the same time. Once you hit accept, it was over.

The slow buzzing of the vibration mixed with the soft punches of the air pulse caused your mouth to slightly hang open, accidentally unmuting yourself in the process. A softened whimper slipped through the phone as you upped the vibration a slight bit, hearing a guttural groan coming not from your phone, but next door. "Fuck sweetheart, you're so good. Faster, f-fuck faster please." The raw natured begging had you hitting another wave of arousal in no time at all, moving the device up an inch in the pink and blue - watching the gorgeous gradients melt into one another. It's when you slid your finger up to do so that you got see the camera angle of what he was seeing - his thickened cock slick with his own spit, the flesh light sliding up and down in waves onto his length. His cock was a bit darker than his skin tone but good god, you felt yourself almost coming undone just at that picture alone. "Aw, come on Cooper - be a good boy for me." You had no idea where that came from, something else possessing you in the moment. For a moment Cooper stopped moving the flesh light and flipped the camera to face him - obsidian eyes and a snarl lining the sight as you flicked your own camera on - showing him how your nipples were like rocks against the sheen of your tank top. Quickly you flipped the image to show you soaking wet cunt, dribbling onto the bed as he fucked with the vibrations quickly. "I should've known - Princess. You fucking knew how hard you made me on that elevator."

Something evil glinted in your eye as you focused on his face - how his face pulled up into an orgasmic stance, ready to blow his load. Seeing him so vulnerable and soft for you, it caused your whole body to tense. "Mhm, wish you pressed me against the walls and fucked me. Would've been screaming Cooper all day long." Toying with Cooper like this made you feel so fucking good, it was having the power over a man who was the epitome of sex in shoes that made you feel immaculate. Pressing Cooper’s flesh light up to the highest vibration and air pulse setting, you could see how his balls pulled up against his body - threatening to spill his load within the toy itself. You were not too far behind at this rate - your clit was being beaten like a drum and vibrating beyond belief. The white hot pleasure burned deep within the roots of your veins and you felt like you were going to fly. It took Cooper four good pumps before he was snarling, growling out at you - aiding you in your own release. With a quick few circular movements of your vibe - both of you were screaming in ecstasy. It felt as if a freight train hit the two of you, rocking your cores to the max level they could even ponder. Both of you were tossed from your own bodies, streaks of glistening lights flew around you in circles; Cooper’s cum shot so deep into his toy that it started to seep out around the edges. As for you, it was a quick work of drenching the bedsheets below you - thighs quivering with every passing second that you left the vibrator on your clit.

When the vibrations died down, all that could be heard across both of your rooms was panting - breathless motions as you tried to come back down from your highs. To say you both felt alive was an understatement - an outer body experience of this caliber was needed for two worry warts. Cooper was the first to break the panting silence, gulping down to alleviate the dryness in his throat. "That was...holy shit," Cooper let out with a small laugh, moaning as he straightened his back out against the memory foam mattress. You nodded in agreement due to your lack of being able to speak. The more Cooper exposed his neck and clamped his eyes shut - the more you wanted him, to feel him pulse between your legs, to ravish you for all that you are worth. So, as one does, you coaxed him forward with a proposal. Standing up from your mattress with only a tank top on, you started to glide straight towards the hotel room door, playing around with the deadbolt to catch Cooper’s attention. Like a puppy his head tilted and ears perked up, a sly smirk falling onto the corner of his mouth; "What do you think you're doing?" Cooper stated as he leaned onto his elbows, taking in the lighting against your complexion. Opening your door you quickly ran over to room 1528, knocking on the door with a grin - watching how Cooper scrambled to open the door. Upon arrival, Cooper quickly whisked you away inside - tossing your phone to the floor. Your arms came to wrap around his neck as his came to encircle your waist - not letting you go. "You ready for round two?" With that, you slotted your mouth against Cooper’s letting the door slam from behind you.

It was a fact that you would not be able to walk straight for the next four days, but boy would it be worth it. But what you failed to realize was the bug in your phone, the screensharing mode always active during your app usage. Your flight miraculously did not have anyone on it except you. Meeting Cooper wasn’t a chance, hell he lived in Philadelphia. No, it was calculated – it was meant to be. That’s because Cooper Adams didn’t just meet you – he has been watching you for months; Controlling your narrative of why you wanted to go to Philly. Your friend wasn’t sick, she didn’t even live in Pennsylvania…anymore. She wasn’t even alive at all. Just a pretty face in her camera roll, he knew you were the one for him.

[mitsua]

Warnings: Mentions of getting envious of someone, self-depricating thoughts, low self-steem, depression, anxious rambling Genre: angst to reverse comfort Series: OM! SWD? MC'S . . . GN! Words count: 0.66k

I'm sorry I say things like that

'Get amazing grades', 'prepare the best food in the Devildom', 'gain followers', 'be popular', 'win every round in a videogame', 'be loved by everything and everyone'.

His sin couldn't let him rest for even a moment. Those common self-destructing comments his mind made of his own persona were driving him insane.

Why couldn't he be happy with what he already has? Leviathan has a big and caring—in their own way—family, his Henry 2.0, a gaming set up, an incredible skill at sewing and cosplaying, you, and that's to say among a thousands-things' list.

It's so painful to see your partner getting depressed by his own thoughts. His mind making up excuses of why he's and will never be enough for anyone or isn't deserving of what he has. While his sin just envies almost every other thing each living thing has.

He's been in his room for almost four days in a row. No one's heard about him nor has he attended to classes. It's been worrying you more than you'd like to.

So you decided to do something to get him to atleast come out to talk. Not really expecting it'd turn out a little bit more of a talk.

"I'm sorry I said you were just a fucking normie back then, I couldn't be anymore wrong. I-I want to be like you, I want everything you've got. It's- I- I envy you! I had been trying to convince myself to do not fall in it for you. Because I know everytime I envy someone I'd never see them again like I once did!"

He said between sobs, his eyes were like cascades and you hated it. Now more than ever because he just confessed he envies you.

You were the exact cause of his isolation.

Those rude and unecessary comments of himself were because of you.

'No, MC, it's no time to feel guilty, you have to do something to get him better and stop.'

Levi-

MC, do you still love me after saying all that?

He got closer to you, grabbing you by your shoulders, desperate.

"Of cour-" you felt his grip tighten, his face getting closer without his usual nervousness. "How?!" This, even if it was the response he was craving for, shocked him. You said it unwavered, with a little freaked out face, yeah, but firm.

"That's the security I want. That's how I wanna say things, confident or just what the others want to hear straight to the point. I envy that ability."

His sin talked. Eyes glowing a sunset-like orange color. It's absorbing his whole self in exchange of a simple act of yours.

"I-Levi, you are also confident in many things you say or do, whenever you start rambling about a new series, videogames, anything you like, you don't let anyone trash talk about it! You defend each and everything you love to the hilt, I really love that of you, I love you and I know you can't control your sin, I understand you'll have those outbursts from time to time and I want you to know that, for anything you may need to talk about, I'm here for you."

Leviathan found himself speechless. The faucet in his eyes not yet closed kept them full of tears. His arms and legs trembled, but after several days, his tears were not from fear or sadness, but from a great feeling of love. His love for you.

Finally someone understood him completely.

"I-MC, thank you, you can't imagine how much I appreciate it! I-I'm sorry I say things like that".

"Shh, I'm here for you, my Lord of Shadows, now, you really need to eat actual food and get a full rest."

He laughed between choked sobs, his cries seemed now so far away he couldn't see nor remember why was he crying for this long, whatever—now he knew, he'd be for you too, his Henry.

All rights reserved © 2024 Mitsua. (Credit to the respective owners of the pictures and tagged anime character.) ⌇ my navigation!

[marshmallowprotection]

it’s 2am and i need my daily dose of angst

what are the most angstiest hcs you have for the choi twins? like genuinely heartbreaking ones

TW; Eating Problems, Emetophobia, Body Insecurity, Survivor's Guilt, Life Attempt / The Explosion, and the expected past-abuse warning for the Choi twins.

Ray physically recoils and sobs whenever his red roots start to come back in. A part of him is happy to see it because he thinks he may be able to have his original hair back someday, someday when all of the things his Savior told him are in the past and it's revealed that all of it had been a misunderstanding. He wants to believe that he'll be happy with Saeyoung again.

It's an overwhelming moment, but it's over just as soon as his fingers touch the vibrant red.

It burns.

It burns like he's been sent to Hell, and he screams. "Not fair, not fair, not fair, not fair!" Images of lies burn through his mind as the worst of the worst begins to settle in. Every vicious lie Rika told him tangled in with the images he's seen of his brother in the RFA, laughing, having fun, and living a life without him that he promised he'd never lead on his own.

Ray was abandoned, forgotten, and left behind.

This red is wrong.

This face is wrong.

These eyes are wrong.

This body is wrong, wrong, wrong—

The bleach burns his scalp before he has time to process what he's doing. He doesn't care how he removes the color, just that the color is removed as soon as possible, and that's why there's traces of pink in his hair... it's not intentional. It's what he misses every time he tries to stripe the color from his head. He always misses a few spots, and it's a damn wonder his hair doesn't look more patchy, but frying the color out of his scalp makes the bad feeling go away.

Until it comes back, of course.

Suit Saeran makes the sweetest of desserts. He makes them so he can stare at them just like he did in his childhood memories. The cake you saw in the dead of night when he mocked you? That cake is what his Mother used to make a mockery of him when he was hungry and all he had to eat was old slices of white bread. He hates white bread... he hates it so much because it tastes like the driest crumbs he had to eat to survive alongside Saeyoung.

You want to know the worst thing about salivating at a treat you're not allowed to have? You want it. You still want it even though you've been told you'll never be able to have what you want. You want it so bad that you'll run over every scenario in your mind to find a way to eat the smallest dollop and not get in trouble for it.

If you've spent a long time staring at something, you've imagined every scenario in the book to get into your clutches... and do you want to know the worst thing about those treats Saeran made to "taunt" you? He didn't eat them, either. He didn't eat the sweetest strawberry cake... he couldn't. Because, he remembers what it felt like to have food after denied for a few days after being brought to Mint Eye.

...And when he stopped screaming, they brought him food... and in that variety of food was a meal that anyone who was starving out of their mind could only dream of. You know what happened the exact second he took a bite of the sweetest thing on the place? It... tasted wrong. Every time he makes this particular treat, it tastes like poison. So, not only was he tormenting you, he was tormenting himself, that cake ended up on the floor because it tasted WRONG.

WRONG WRONG WRONG.

MINT EYE IS WRONG.

WRONG WRONG WRONG.

VAE Ray spent a few days in the rubble. It's a wonder he was able to survive in the first place. Jihyun had an operation to save his life from the elixir AND the stab wound. He was in the hospital for at least two to three days, and the only person who could've found him happens to be the same person who brings him out of the country to heal and recuperate for two and half years.

Can you imagine what it felt like to be in the rubble of a building you intentionally destroyed? To lay there for hours as the ash, soot, and God knows what else floated in the air all around you? To know that you can't do anything right, that you can't DIE RIGHT, and all of the people who promised they'd never leave you—left you?

To be unable to scream out for help because your lungs feel charred, to be unable to move because your entire body has been scorched from one side to the other? What was the meaning of your life? All you can do is lay there in the rubble, sobbing, because you can't get up, and every time you fade in and out of consciousness, you think it might be for the last time and maybe you'll be at peace next time and not wake up.

Or, maybe you are dead and this is just the hell you deserve to be in because you were never good enough for heaven, that's what you feel the longer you stay there... and you know the worst part? When Ray is found by Jihyun, it's not relief he feels, it's anger and fear, because he thinks Jihyun was sent there to mock him, bringing him false hope to believe he wasn't abandoned, but also fear, because part of him really didn't want to die but he saw no other option.

And underneath all of that?

Relief that feels like delusion because someone came back for him but it feels like it's too late to save his life.

SE Saeran doesn't sleep well at night. He lashes out, he kicks, and he screams. He has night terrors about Mint Eye. He has nightmares all about that place no matter how far away he is from that building and what it did to him. He has episodes where he wakes up and thinks he is back in his office, trembling, shaking, and his body pushes him to look for his desk to start working as soon as possible because he isn't in the mood to be punished again.

Nothing can stop these episodes, and while he is getting therapy and doing better during the daytime, nothing stops his nightmares, and it does keep him from sleeping with his possible partner. He has to stay in his own bed, possibly even his own room, while you video call each other from other sides of the house, and as painful as that is, it helps him feel safer than he would if he were to hurt you during one of the episodes.

God, you want to know the worst ones?

It's when he wakes up, screaming, and he has no choice but to sprint into the bathroom his brother built into his room to help him feel way more in control over his environment. He's sick, and once he's able to pull himself away from the toilet, he spends the next half-hour trying to burn his hands to remove the sticky feeling of V's blood from both of his hands.

He's trying to remove the feeling of Saeyoung's blood away from his hands, too. He has flashbacks about that day all the time, thinking his brother is dead and V is dead and it's all his fault and he needs to get rid of the blood because it feels wrong, and he's wrong, and he's just a PAWN WHO NEVER MATTERED BECAUSE—

RIKA SAID SHE WANTED HIS BROTHER. NOT HIM. SHE WANTED TO USE SAEYOUNG. NOT HIM. "USE" HIM. IT WAS NEVER REAL. IT WAS A LIE.

ALL A LIE.

Saeyoung can't stop looking over his shoulders no matter where he is. He can't stop looking. It doesn't matte where he is. He has to have a full view of the room he's in, and that means he spends his time on his phone looking for camera feeds and other means to control what he can in his environment. It's nice when he's in his bunker because he has a defense system and cameras all over the place. He's ready for war if it comes to that.

But, it's a horrible way to live your life, isn't it?

To be afraid and know that this paranoia you experience isn't just some fear you have that has nothing to warrant. His paranoia has a reason to exist and it doesn't matter when the party's over and his Father is out of the picture. He pissed off a lot of people during his years in the agency, and until all of those people are out of the way, he can't stop being afraid of losing his life, or being the reason why his loved ones lose their.

He has nightmares, too.

He wakes up in the dead of night, searching for the modified tablet on his bedside table, and he can't breathe until he checks the feed to make sure that nobody's come in or out of the house. Saeran doesn't mess with the system. In fact, SE Saeran doesn't want to touch any technology anymore, so Saeyoung never has to worry about his baby brother sneaking out or tampering with the system to leave.

But, still, he has to CHECK EVERYTHING.

Twice.

God forbid his MC left the room to get water and didn't leave him something to show they would be right now before he could check his system. I think you have to help him implement a system for his fears. He knows it can be overwhelming, he knows that most of his requests or fears come across as controlling, and God knows he is trying his best to be better about this, but... for his peace of mind, it's nice to know you left a plush or an object on your bed to say, "I'm just in the other room. Don't worry."

...He can't stop thinking about the damn near week he spent in that humid, agent-infested warehouse. His paranoia got that much worse after that experience. That's the nightmare he wakes up from most of the time if it's not about his childhood. That's what sets him off to be paranoid for the rest of the night. The fear of being cornered with not a single weapon to protect himself.

God forbid it happen to you or Saeran, too.

[lil-elle]

Girl queen I NEED the hickey imagine thing I pinky promise I’ll do the full ones well 😭😞

FINEEEE

XIKERS Hyung line when you give them a Hickey

pairs: bf!xikers x fem!reader

genre: established relationship, fluff, suggestive

word count: 697

content: marking, kisses

a/n: idk if i'll so maknae line for this...but if anyone wants it, lemme know i guess 🤕

Minjae:

Wouldn't even notice it at first until he's trying to put his contacts in while getting ready for work the next morning

Wide eyed shock at first, his fingers rubbing at it to try and get it off like it’s a stain and not a bruise

Mega blushes when he finally fully processes what it is, his mind going back to the night before and remembering the exact moment you gave it to him, face only getting redder

Would walk up to you awkwardly holding his hand against it, before showing you and asking for concealer

You'd apologetically cover it up for him, feeling guilty, but right before he leaves he'd whisper “even though you covered it up…I like being marked by you.” and then he'd run out before seeing your reaction

-

Junmin:

You wouldn't even realise you'd done it until you two are sleepy cuddling up to each other after waking up the next morning

You'd bury into his neck, coming face to face with a purple bruise. Your “Oh…oh…” would grab his attention and he'd grab his phone to look, his mouth falling open when he sees it

You’d hide away into the pillow, embarrassed and thinking he thought it was weird or was upset at you but he'd suddenly put his phone down and pull you into an embrace

His body would be so hot and you'd barely hear him whisper “I'm all yours…” making your heart go crazy

Whenever you make out again, he'd be pushing your head down towards his neck, wanting you to leave marks, and you'd happily oblige

-

Sumin:

Notices after taking a shower in the morning and can only chuckle, unable to tease you for it since he leaves your neck looking like a Jackson Pollock painting

They type to keep them uncovered in front of the guys to show off and make you feel embarrassed, loving how your shy face looks

“I've taught you well” he'd tease, watching your face go red. You'd swear you'll never do it ever again but it's a promise made to be broken and he knows that

Would suggest you to leave more on other places on his body but you'd cut him off telling him to shush because you're already way too flustered and he just smirks down at you

He'd eventually regret encouraging you when he ends up covered in bruises practically impossible to cover before he needs to go to work or visit family (payback)

-

Jinsik:

Wouldn't notice until someone else pointed it out to him, immediately going bright red upon hearing the word “hickey” (he's a shy baby, give him a break 💔)

He'd immediately run to you, frantically questioning if it was true, to which you'd nod as your face goes red

He'd pretty much die, just sink to the floor flustered and embarrassed, especially embarrassed that someone else noticed before he did

Once he finally sees himself in the mirror, he'd be surprised about how much he likes the look of it on him, once again feeling flustered

You doing it to him Would prompt him to want to try it with you. He'd definitely get carried away, giving you way too many and forcing you to wear a scarf out the next day even if it's summer

-

Hyunwoo:

Before he's even had the chance to rub the tiredness from his eyes, his jaw is dropped, brain too fuzzy to even remember you doing that to him last night

Way too flustered for no reason, despite the fact he gives them to you all the time, perhaps he's not used to the idea of you giving one to him

Locks the bathroom door and tries to cover it up himself, inevitably making a mess and wasting a lot of your make-up (forgive him)

You'd eventually question what the ruckus is, and he'd defeatedly let you in to see the mess. You wouldn't be able to hold back a laugh at his horrible foundation application job

You'd help him clean up and apologise but he'd explain in a hurried tone that he actually likes it but he's just embarrassed. He's so endearing 🥹

-

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

TAGLIST:

@hyunromi @chocoeon @hyunukitty @minjaezed @ihyeokzu @cake1box @chiiyuuvv

[quietwingsinthesky]

I completely agree with your post about 11 and how well Matt Smith embodies the exact necessary tone/expression for each beat of the script! I can't imagine someone else being able to bring to life that incarnation of the Doctor. Obviously 11's era and writing has its misgivings and flaws, but I still find a lot of joy rewatching those episodes, because you see this scared, lonely doctor who's still so enthusiastic and hopeful, even when the grief and rage gets to him. It's like seeing those emotions reflected in you, and a reminder that you'll feel that hope and appreciation for life/nature again, too. I think that emotional catharsis and sincerity is the heart of doctor who and what attracts us all to the show, to be given reminders that compassion and hope are a strength, not a weakness. Seeing his expression change during that part of The Doctor's Wife always, always moves me because of the kind of honor and awe that dawns on 11's face at his tardis using the exact words he uses to describe how he stole her. It's such beautiful, tender reciprocity between two beings that couldn't communicate their feelings in this way until right then 💜

yeah, couldn’t have worded it better myself if i tried.

i think i’ve said before that eleven is my least favorite doctor, but i need to make it clear that that doesn’t even come close to me disliking him, or even feeling neutral about him. he’s still incredible, like if we put these guys on a line from bad to amazing, all of them are so close to the amazing side that you’d have to zoom in to see the order. he’s just got the unfortunate fate of being in the weakest seasons of the show that i’ve seen so far, but if i was judging this solely off of the performance of the doctor himself? he’d be tied right there with david tennant, if not above him.

no matter the quality of the writing, matt smith is bringing his A game to the table. tennant’s performance before him has moments where his doctor is serious and cold, but he’s so generally affable that those moments sort of slide off to the sides. not that you forget about it, but that it feels like a lesser part of him. and matt smith’s performance follows that with a doctor who is silly and energetic and sweet, but I think he pulls off keeping the harder parts of the doctor to swallow in mind, the scary sides of his grief and anger. some of my favorite scenes for eleven are when he’s given the space to show the full range of the doctor. the two that really come to mind are obviously that moment in the doctor’s wife, and my other stand-out favorite, his scenes with river in angels in manhattan, where we watch him lash out at her when he’s scared and angry at the fact that it was her name on the book that’s fated his friends to be pulled from him, and then a scene later, he heals her wrist by sacrificing what little regeneration energy he has left, because he does love her, he does know he was wrong to let her be hurt, but he also doesn’t ask if he can do this to fix things beforehand and upsets her again.

it’s just such a delicate balance to pull off there to make that scene work, and he does it perfectly, brings across both how much potential he has as the doctor to hurt and to heal the people he loves. i think, in the hands of any other actor, i would find eleven really hard to watch, really unlikeable. but just like he manages to never let you forget those unbearably painful parts of the doctor’s personality, you also never doubt that, even when he lashes out at the people around him, he loves them so much. he’s just. you know. Going Through It.

(also, personal touch, i so love how physically affectionate he portrays the doctor to be. it’s a small touch that means the world to me. really pulls the whole thing together when you know this man is just jumping for an opportunity to hug and hold onto and kiss the people around him. rory getting a forehead kiss when the doctor sees him for the first time in months, my beloved, rotating that moment in my head forever.)

there’s just so much going on with him. he was a fantastic doctor. (hell, all the people that have gotten to play the doctor so far have been, in my eyes, which is astounding to me. just straight bangers the whole way through, i’m incredibly impressed by how much love and work you can see go into these performances.) i think if i rewatch his seasons again, knowing exactly what to expect this time around, i’ll enjoy them much more than i did the first time.

sorry for rambling on so long, but i just need it known how much i really do love eleven. i needed a bit to warm up to smith, i’ll admit, but he earned every last bit of praise i can give him.

[lunamadhatter99]

Be My Queen

Part 2

SteveHarrington x Hopper!femreader x EddieMunson

Sorry I'm late, I had some trouble finding both the time and the inspiration to write it.

This one is a little shorter than usual because I want the next one completely about baiting Vecna.

Anyway, I hope you guys like it, let me know also if you want to be tagged in the next chapter ❤️❤️

Chapter summary: the team gets ready to face probably the worst they've ever faced, what better timing to confess some feelings?

Chapter warning: none I think... if I missed something let me know.

Tag list

@once-upon-an-imagine

@munsonology

@cutepumpkin4

@summerbrooksblog

@iheartmyguitars

@trickylittlewitch

@eddiesguitarskills

@justheretoreadleavemealone

We finally arrive in this open field and I can take a break from all those creepy thoughts.

We split into small groups, Dustin and Eddie are tasked in making shields, Erica and Lucas in making spears, Max helps Nancy and I with the shotgun, , Robin and Steve making "bombs".

Nancy wanted to be as sure as possible with the aiming so we're cutting the end of the shotgun.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" Max asks me.

"Positive" I nod and before she could say anything back "it's safer for you this way"

"She is right, Max" Nancy supports me "I really wish she wasn't, I really wish there would be another way... but this is the safest option"

"I'm just scared, okay?" Max admits.

I sigh and so does Nancy. Just like the others Max quickly became like a sister, the exact moment we met, she was family.

Seeing her so distraught and uncertain makes my heart clench.

"So are we" I sweetly say to her. "Fuck... I'm more scared than ever, if I'm being honest. But unfortunately if we don't do anything, no one else will and... again, unfortunately looks like we're smarter than anyone else"

A small smile appears on Max's face at my comment.

Then her eyes focus on Nancy's cutting the shotgun.

"Is this legal?" She asks her.

"Actually, I think it's felony" Nancy answers "but it guarantees one thing." Her eyes find mine for a moment before hitting the end and making it fell on the ground "I won't miss."

She says this to reassure me, which I'm more than grateful for.

"What about you?" Max looks at me "Are you gonna do something about those two idiots or you'll just wait and wait..?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." I feign innocence.

"I'm pretty sure now is the best time to say something to them... you know, confess something" Max hints.

"I don't know. It's complicated..."

"It's really not" Nancy chimes in as she stands up "just tell them how you feel. I know it's difficult, but... literally it's now or never"

I look at her and sigh, then turn to Max, who nods agreeing with her.

"Fine... yeah, alright."

I turn around to look at Steve by the RV with Robin, he probably feels like he's being watched so he looks up and about until his eyes find mine.

I gently smile at him and he smiles back. I can see he's worried sick, he probably feels guilty too somehow, that he can't find another way to do this.

I then look at Dustin and Eddie playing fight.

As he spins around he locks eyes with me and smiles waving at me as he walk backwards, he eventually fells and Dustin takes advantage of it and attacks him.

"He's such a baby" I whisper to myself with a smile.

-----------

We're all waiting for Dustin and Nancy to check everything for the millionth time, never too careful they said.

I look at them, biting my nails and bouncing my foot.

"Hey" Steve's voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

"Hi." I say softly.

"It's gonna be fine" he tries to reassure me.

"He's right" Eddie appears beside me too.

"Yeah.. easy for you to say. Your job is basically jamming with Dustin" I say with a forced laugh and they stay silent "I'm sorry... I didn't mean.."

"I know." Eddie gives my arm a soft squeeze.

"You're very brave, Y/n, you know that?" Steve tells me.

"Oh yeah? Then why I'm shaking like a freaking chihuahua?"

"Because it's still a crazy situation."

I look him in the eyes and see sincerity in them, along with fear of course. I look at Eddie and see worry.

I think of what I'm getting myself into... Vecna might not want to kill me, but it doesn't mean he won't if necessary.

I guess it's time to talk.

"I... I think I need to tell you something" I sigh.

They look at each other, sharing an understanding nod.

"It's alright, sweetheart." Eddie squeezes my arm once again.

"We know." Steve says with a smile.

"What do you mean?" I ask. How?

"We talked the UpsideDown, while we were walking to Nancy's house. We... both realised our feelings for you. And we also realised that you're the one who has to choose" Steve explains.

"Yeah, we were about to argue on who had more righ to ask you out, but you should decide who you want..." Eddie says" if you want any if us of course." He quickly adds.

Oh.

Oh!

They do feel something for me.

Oh god, what a relief I wasn't crazy.

"I..." I start, but Eddie cuts me off.

"The choice is yours and... it won't change anything. Whoever you choose" he says is almost resigned.

"I... don't want to choose." I say shyly.

"What do you mean?"

"I too have feelings for you... for the both of you" I say looking back and forth between them.

"Oh..."

"What..."

"Yeah" I laugh embarrassed looking down at my feet.

"That's... that's good" Steve says and Eddie nods.

"Is it?" I look up at them.

"Yeah. I mean... yeah" Eddie looks relief and just smiles, while Steve chuckles grinning.

"Cool"

"It's implied we're taking you out on a date after this is over" Eddie declares grabbing my hand.

"If this.."

"Don't." Steve stops me "we're gonna make it, okay? I'm not letting some delusional monster prevent me from taking my girl out on a date"

"Our girl" Eddie corrects.

"Our girl out on a date" Steve repeats with a roll of eyes.

"I'm just scared and I don't want to keep my hopes up" I confess.

"I know, love. Trust me, then. We're gonna make it. Right, Munson?"

"Definitely. Trust us, sweetheart." Eddie nods.

I look at them for a moment, they're trying to be strong for me.

I nod.

"Guys" Dustin calls us and we turn our attention to him "it's time to go"

"Let's go end this" I say and walk to the RV followed by Eddie and Steve.

-----------

We're at Creel's house.

It's time.

Max, Lucas, Erica and I are about to get out.

"alright, you know what you have to do, right?" Nancy asks us.

"Yes, Nance. We do. We got over it a thousand times." I tell her, to reassure her.

"Then one more won't hurt" she smiles, but she's tense.

"I know" I go hug her and she hugs me back tighter.

"Hey, no funny business, I don't want to come back to know you made a demonic deal with him to save us all, but sacrifice yourself" Robin blurts out hugging me once I pulled away from Nancy.

"Wouldn't dream of it, not without my lawyer"

"Please be careful" she whispers.

"Always"

"Wait!" Dustin exclaims.

"What's wrong?" Steve asks alarmed.

"What... we don't have a song for her" Dustin says.

"I don't think that would work with me." I tell him.

"Well we can't be sure. Maybe it helps! Fuck... why didn't I think of it before" he curses.

"Language" I warn him

"I got it" Eddie chimes in, moving his hands into his pockets.

All eyes are on him, watching him curiously.

He takes out a tape.

"What's that?" I ask.

"Your favourite songs.." he quietly say, heat rising to his cheeks.

"Eddie.." I softly say walking to him.

He hands me the tape and I see there are all my favourite songs in it.

"I wanted to give it to you for your birthday, but... guess now it's the best time"

"It's still very appreciated. Thank you" I say kissing his cheek, he responds by hugging me tightly.

"Please be careful"

"I promise"

I pull away, still holding the tape in my hand and I turn to Steve.

"Kill him. Please." I say in a whisper.

"You don't need to tell me twice" he says.

I nod and wrap my arms around his neck while his are around waist.

I turn ready to follow the others out, but Dustin stops me once again.

"I'm sorry" he says.

"About what?" I ask confused.

"That I couldn't find another way"

I immediately hug him tightly.

"Shut up. Never say that again. It's gonna be fine and we'll be back to our movie night sooner than you think" I say to him and I pull away. "Okay?"

"Okay. Yeah..." he takes a breath and nods.

"After all... I'm pretty sure it's my turn to pick" I wink and he laughs rolling his eyes.

Finally we wall out of the RV and into the Creel's house.

As Erica walks to take place in the playground Max, Lucas and I start to place the lights around the house.

I sit on the ground, I try to calm myself watching Lucas and Max talking through notes. I hope they'll work it out after all this is done. Max has been through a lot this year, Billy wasn't exactly Mr Kindness, but he was still his brother and she saw him die, that must've been hard to witness, she deserves to be happy. Lucas deserves it too.

I can't help but think about Jim. When he signed the adoption papers and took me to Hawkins was, I think, the best day of my life. He taught me everything I know and he made me who I am today. I owe this to his memory, being brave for him, for him and for El. I hope she's alright, and I hope to see her again after this.

Suddenly the flashlight outside catch my attention, Steve, Nancy and Robin must be ready.

Max and Lucas look at me, breath heavy with tension.

I take a deep breath.

Time to phase two.

[mimisempai]

Addicted to your softness

Summary

Crowley overhears a conversation between Maggie and Nina and learns from them how Shaw spoke to his angel.

Notes

If you look at that scene when Shax mocks Aziraphale's love of food, his softness, look at Aziraphale's face and you'll be heartbroken like me.

On Ao3

Rating G -  1562 words

At Aziraphale's request, Crowley was on his way to pick up a classical music record that the angel had ordered from Maggie. As he walked through the door of the record store, Crowley realized that Maggie wasn't there and was about to call out to her when he heard a voice.

"Nina, I assure you, I'm fine."

Crowley was torn between leaving and staying to tell his angel some gossip.

"But as for this demon, I no longer know their name -"

"Shax."

Shax? Why were they talking about Shax?

"Yes, Shax, what they said to you was extremely hurtful. And I don't want you to think that..."

Maggie's voice interrupted her, "Nina, everything you told me was stuff I've heard before. But I know who I am and what I'm worth. What hurts me more is what they said to Mr. Fell."

"He said you could call him Aziraphale."

They talked about his Aziraphale?

"Yes, Aziraphale. I think he seemed more affected by what they said to him than I was."

Crowley couldn't stand it any longer and joined them in the back room, "What did Shax say to him?"

Both women gasped and Maggie hesitated.

Crowley insisted, "Tell me everything."

Maggie replied quietly, "I don't remember the exact words, but they insisted he was soft, mocked the fact that he liked to eat so much, and asked if they should get him some sushi, and Mr. - Aziraphale looked almost sad for a moment.

That bitch, Crowley thought, feeling anger well up inside him on behalf of Aziraphale.

"Hey, you're not going to pull that lightning trick again, are you?"

Nina's voice snapped him out of his spiral and he shook his head. The coffee shop owner then asked him gently, "Do you need any coffee, like 6 shots of espresso?"

Crowley shook his head, "No, on the other hand, I want six of your biggest Eccles Cakes, if you've got any left."

Nina nodded, kissed Maggie on the cheek, and said to Crowley, "Come on, I'll give you this."

As they walked to the coffee shop, Nina asked him, "Are you going to be okay?"

Crowley replied, "Yeah... no... I hate the idea of him... anyway, let's just say his last employer never really treated him right, even though he never did anything wrong, so..."

Nina nodded, "I know, even if Maggie and I aren't, weren't, well, anyway, when that old witch talked to her like that, if it hadn't been a demon, I don't know if I could have held back. So I can only imagine now that you and he..."

"Yeah." Crowley replied simply as they reached the coffee shop. Nina quickly disappeared behind the counter and returned with a plate of Eccles cakes, which she handed to Crowley, saying, "This is on me. Take good care of him."

Crowley nodded and stomped out of the coffee shop, heading straight for the bookshop.

As he entered, he spotted Aziraphale standing in front of one of the shelves and called to him, "Angel, may I tempt you to a little snack?" 

As the Angel turned, he showed him the plate of cakes, pleased to see his eyes brighten as he nodded eagerly.

Crowley asked, "Isn't Muriel here?"

Aziraphale shook his head as he followed, "No, while studying the books they came across a compendium of the city's monuments and expressed a desire to explore the city."

"Oh, very well," Crowley replied, placing the plate of cakes on the small table, "Sit down and I'll bring you a cup of tea."

"Oh, you're an angel, thank you."

Crowley turned and replied with a cheeky smile, "No, angel, that's you."

He heard the angel chuckle as he entered the small kitchen to prepare the tea. 

A few moments later, he returned to Aziraphale with the tea and sat down next to him after placing the cup in front of him.

He handed the plate to Aziraphale, who greedily grabbed the cake and lifted it to his mouth.

Crowley couldn't help but smile at the various sounds of pleasure the angel made as he tasted the cake.

"What's the matter?" the angel asked, looking confused as he finished the first cake.

Crowley shook his head, "Nothing's wrong," then handed him the plate.

Aziraphale picked up another cake and asked with a smile, "Are you afraid I'm not eating enough?"

Crowley replied, "Nothing of the sort, angel, I just want you to eat what you feel like."

Having just bitten into the cake, Aziraphale smiled back, "That's sweet of you, but also a little strange."

I want you to forget what that idiot said to you.

"Crowley, my dear, I find you a little weird. Not that I dislike your attentions, but I have a strange feeling. Is something wrong?"

Crowley shook his head and replied, "No, nothing, eat."

The angel frowned and said in a falsely scolding tone, "Crowley...no lies between us. I sense there's something on your mind. I may often be oblivious, but I can see that you're upset about something."

Crowley sighed and replied, "I just heard from Maggie what Shax said to you that night.

Aziraphale looked puzzled at first, then Crowley caught the moment when the demon's words came back to his mind and immediately saw the angel's expression as he shrugged and said softly, "It's nothing I haven't heard before, at least Hell and Heaven are connected on this."

Confused, Crowley asked, "What do you mean?"

Aziraphale explained, "It's nothing much, Gabriel used to chastise me too for eating human food and that it made me soft." He unconsciously ran his hand over his stomach, but Crowley saw it and grabbed it, saying, "You know that's crap, don't you?"

"Well..." Aziraphale breathed, looking away, "for two people to be talking about it, there must be something to it."

Crowley grabbed his chin and turned his head toward him, saying in a firm voice, "I'm telling you, it's crap. It's coming from two people who are incapable of enjoying life -even if that's no longer true for his former royal smugness. You know, watching you eat is one of my favorite things, Angel?"

The angel shook his head gently, "How could it be?"

He gently ran his thumb over the angel's lips and replied, "When you eat, you look absolutely delighted, you're the picture of bliss, and I don't see the angel anymore, I only see you, Aziraphale. You don't hold back, and it's like seeing you fly on your own wings, if you'll allow me the metaphor. Forget what they told you, both of them. Don't be ashamed of who you are. Yes, you're soft, but so what?"

Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale's waist and pressed his cheek against his stomach before continuing, "I like that softness, and I wouldn't have you any other way. And besides, it's all mine now."

He felt the angel laugh softly against him, then felt his hands settle into his hair, forcing him to lift his head.

Aziraphale leaned toward him and said softly, his voice trembling slightly, "Thank you..."

"Thank you for what, Angel?"

The angel replied softly, "For always telling me what I need to hear. Always."

On the wall, after telling the demon how he had given away his flaming sword, Aziraphale worried, "I hope I didn't do the wrong thing.

The demon looked at him, smiled, and said gently, "Oh, you're an angel. I don't think you can do the wrong thing."

********

Aziraphale said in a desperate voice, "I lied. To thwart the will of God."

Crawley nodded and replied in a gentle tone, "Yes, you did, but... I won't tell anyone," then turning to him, he added, " Are you?"

Aziraphale didn't answer, so the demon continued, "No. Then nothing has to change, does it?"

Aziraphale sat down on the bench and asked, lost, "But what am I?"

Crawley replied comfortingly, "You're just an angel who goes along with Heaven as far as he can.��

Crowley straightened and, cupping the Angel's face in his hands, replied gently, "Angel, I've never told you anything but the truth, nothing more. Just as I'm telling you today. I want to keep seeing you enjoy what you love. I want to keep seeing your eyes light up when you see a dessert that should be banned for its sugar content. I want to keep hearing you marvel because you've just discovered a new restaurant. Because that's who you are, and that's who I love."

When he heard Aziraphale gasp, Crowley realized what he had just said and didn't regret it, knowing it was the perfect moment. He leaned in to kiss the angel, but Aziraphale shook his head and pushed him a little, "W-Wait, Crowley!"

Crowley replied, "Don't even bother asking me if I'm sure, because..."

"I love you too, you idiot!"

"Oh..."

They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds before bursting out laughing. Only they could have this kind of declaration of love, chaotic and messy, but so them in the end.

When they had calmed down, Aziraphale repeated more softly, "I love you."

Crowley didn't answer, closing the distance and pressing his lips to the angel's in a kiss that celebrated a love that had been sown many millennia ago, that had taken time to grow and was finally blossoming into the light.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : here (After season 2)

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

[madaboutmunson]

Look through these blackened eyes You'll see ten thousand lies

I Think I Could Have Been Someone - Chapter 9

Ao3 Link

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Link to fic overview and all parts

Chapter Summary: Pumping with the adrenaline from their fight and with his permission, Eddie attempts to exact his revenge on Steve between the sheets. But is retribution all that is at play here?

Author Notes: This is a mature story, definitely 18+ only.

This is my first ever published smut chapter. I am sweating with nerves as I type this lol.

I have a few bang event projects to finish up, so this story will have to take a short break. Though the next few 5 chapters are already written then need to be edited, which takes me a lot of time. Sorry :(

Tags/Warnings: rockstar!AU; band; touring; music industry; alternate universe; drug usage; alcohol abuse; performing; enemies to lovers; road trip; stobin; platonic stobin; platonic with a capital P; canon typical violence; angst; masochism; fist fight; smut

Word Count: 10.5K

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

I Think I Could Have Been Someone - Part 9 - Eddie POV

Even in his wildest dreams, Eddie couldn’t have possibly imagined this because nothing about this moment in time makes any sense to him at all.

Hasn’t he loathed this man for years now? Didn’t this guy ruin his life? Hadn’t this guy just seconds ago tried to beat him down verbally and physically? Eddie realises it’s a resounding yes to everything, yet he feels a pulsing energy around them—something teetering on a cliff edge.

He didn’t know why he’d answered that way. It just fell out of his mouth, Only everything.

And he did want that. He wanted to steal everything from Harrington, just like he’d stolen everything from him, but he knew that wasn’t just revenge talking. Although that feeling is still very present, another looming entity is in the room. Lust. He could feel its selfish, irresponsible form like some gelatinous ooze was creeping all over him. Seeping into every recess of his brain, turning off logic centres as it passes, only leaving primal things in its wake. The only reason he lets it continue its pilgrimage into his very being is because it’s evident he isn’t alone in this.

Harrington’s lips are still at the shell of his ear. The last thing he’d heard from them was a whimper at his reply as his entire body weight rested on top of him. Eddie is in semi-thoughtful, mostly impulsive deliberations with the ornate ceiling above them. Then there is the delicate brush of stubble as Harrington pushes his head further over his shoulder until his lips press against his ear, “Then take it.” He whispers like silk, and Eddie is not god’s strongest soldier, or anyone's for that matter. His eyes roll back as the words and all their potential implications ignite every neuron in his body. Surging to the tip of his tongue for the next thing to say. Rocketing to his fingertips for the next thing to touch. His heart thumps powerfully in its skeletal hideaway, but not for love, for an imminent frenzy. For the thrill of finally getting something over the man who’s haunted his every waking day, every nightmare-filled night, and the poor wretch is offering it up to him on a silver platter. Take it.

Eddie never considered himself an angel, but he had principles and morals that kept him on the right side of judgement from himself and maybe others, but this might be a temptation too far. Harrington was correct. He had been a fan in the early days, at least. Perhaps even up until everything fell apart. Recalling his world imploding, he feels his grip on Harrington tighten again like he wants to squeeze the breath right out of him, but he resists when he hears that gentle groan in his ear.

He feels like he could both give in to something basal and still satisfy the need to get one over on Harrington if he follows the path his hormones are gouging out for him. He feels his accomplice's hands shakily run up his sides. The breath at his ear is now against his cheek as Harrington turns to face him, head still heavy on his shoulder. Maybe he was exhausted? Perhaps he’d already given up?

Eddie has to decide. Morally, this was bad. Professionally potentially the worst decision ever, but personally, maybe the sweetest fucking revenge. The holy grail of blackmail, or perhaps no one would even believe him if he told them. No one would think that Harrington, who walks the red carpet with his doting wife, or Harrington, who gets papped with his tongue hanging out for some harem of female groupies to hang off by sucking on it, would forgo them all to fool around with an average joe, like him. A nobody. A nobody who was, at one time, on the cusp of being a somebody. 

And maybe that’s what seals the deal for him. He violently pushes Harrington off him, hoping to press against one of the many bruises currently developing, and he must because he hisses as he meets the carpet with a thud. 

Eddie gets to his knees, and before Harrington can let any more spiteful words leave his wretched mouth, he grabs a fistful of hair and yanks him up until they are face to face. But Harrington isn’t struggling; he lets himself hang limp in Eddie’s grip. The previous violence has begun plumping parts of his face, the red marks deepening as burst blood vessels spill under his skin. His mouth hangs open slightly, “Take it,” he mumbles a reminder through swollen split lips.

Eddie’s other hand rapidly finds its way into Harrington’s obnoxious, luxurious hair and closes the gap between them with a clash of teeth. Their lips meet brutally. He can feel the hair strands fall between his fingers as his grip tightens, pulling it out from the roots. There is no polite request for entry when Eddie’s tongue forces its way into his mouth, but he’s not met with any resistance, only moans of pleasure. 

Initially, Harrington is a malleable thing in his hands, bending to his will, letting Eddie cruelly bite and drag his teeth over the wounds on his lips before kissing his hisses and whimpering back into his mouth, like he doesn’t want to hear them. And he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to hear or see anything that might induce him to be merciful. Soon enough, Harrington springs to life, grabbing fistfuls of a T-shirt at Eddie's waist, twisting it around his fingers until Eddie feels it pull tight across his back. With a grunt pushed into his mouth, he finds himself yanked flush with Harrington. The heat and pressure from another makes the skin in all the places their bodies meet feel like embers of something long forgotten, but as they move together, the sparks find their fuel and ignite a searing wildfire across the surface of his skin. He can feel his heart pounding. He can hear it in his ears like a bass line to the wanton melody of noises between them.

He feels a shift again. Harrington’s knees bracket one of his own, forcing them closer together. Another sigh spills from out Harrington, and Eddie consumes it hungrily. Like he’s trying to capture everything. He would let the night have nothing. This was all his. Every sigh, moan, whimper and groan. He would gorge himself on everything he was pulling out of Harrington until he was sick from overindulgence or until Harrington had no more to give.

Then, just like he’s acclimatising, nothing further happens between them below the belt line, but Harrington’s hands find their way up and under Eddie's shirt. Calloused fingertips but soft palms glide over his back, urging him closer, even though it is physically impossible, but the gentleness is distracting and has no place here. Eddie drags his teeth over Steve’s tongue as he pulls away, only to have his mouth adorably chased by the man opposite him, who looked starved for it, even though they’ve been clamped together for who knows how long. Eddie ignores it, licks along Harrington’s jawline, and bites down on the hinge of it with his teeth, a helpful reminder of what is happening here.

He gets the message.

Harrington’s hands raise to his shoulder blades, rough fingertips press into his skin there, and then excruciatingly slowly, he drags his blunt fingernails down Eddie’s back. A gasp fights out and into his ear, causing a reactionary hip buck into his thigh from Harrington, whose fingers soothe their way back up the fresh scratches.

Harrington, for the first time, leans back, his spit-wet mouth slightly parted as he observes Eddie through barely open hooded eyes before raking his nails down him again, faster this time, making Eddie’s back arch towards him with a yelp from the stinging pain melting into a sigh caused by a wave of endorphins rearing up and crashing down on him. Involuntarily, he closes his eyes, maybe to savour the sensation of the burning strands of heat trailing over his back, perhaps to not look at Harrington. He isn’t sure, but he soon finds himself pulled into a more comfortable measured distance of zero. But no lips meet his. A hand grasps his jaw tightly and tips his head backwards. He feels a breath at the base of his throat, the moisture evaporating so quickly from him there is a coolness for a second before Harrington’s tongue drags up the column of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine. “Wait here,” he’s instructed as Harrington leaves, and he finally dares open his eyes, tries to catch his breath, palms at the bulge in his jeans for a second of relief, and relaxes back on his heels.

He watches Harrington busy himself with a door handle sign, and he opens the door a crack. Immediately, Buckley’s face appears in it.

“Jesus Christ, Steve!” She exclaims quietly, but he’s already trying to close the door again after hanging a do not disturb sign.

“Relax. We’re not fighting anymore.” He says and slams the door.

“Then what are you doing in there?” She yells angrily through the door.

Steve yanks the door open again, “I dunno, fucking hopefully,” she’s about to say something else when he slams the door shut and locks it again.

That makes Eddie spring to his feet, and his brain feeds him a million reasons why he really should leave, but the problem being he still has a reason to stay, and he’s still horny as hell.

Harrington slinks his way back and leisurely looks Eddie over, “What happened?” He smirks, “Didn’t wanna be on your knees when I got back?” Harrington reaches over and takes his arm, runs his hands over it, inspects it, leads him to the couch, and sits them both down. He waits for a second before crawling towards Eddie. He looked more creature than man. Almost under a spell, Eddie feels himself doing one thing but saying another. He reclines back on the seat, coaxing Harrington into his lap, saying, “This is a terrible idea, Harrington.”

“Oh, the absolute worst, for sure,” Harrington smiles slyly as he straddles Eddie’s thighs, “And I think it would be even worse for me to hear you call me by my name and not my brand.”

Eddie’s chest heaves as he is manhandled to make him a more comfortable seat, “Yeah, that would be a really dumb thing to do, wouldn’t it, Steve?” And he watches as Steve’s eyes shoot to his and shift from something amused to something all the more sultry. He tilts his head a little like he didn’t hear correctly, eyes firmly fixed on Eddie, who thinks he knows what he’s being asked to do, “Did you hear what I said,” Eddie lets his eyes fall to his lap and drags them unhurriedly back to meet the blooming dilated pupils of the man seated on him, “Steve?”

Like his own name is the shot of a starting pistol, Steve launches himself at Eddie again, with force enough to rock the furniture.

Within seconds, things start to feel almost competitive. Every kiss was returned with a more forceful one, every grip on the other's body was returned with a harder, more cruel squeeze, and every needy grind down was met with a hard thrust upwards.

The one-upmanship leaves Eddie intoxicated. He’s trying to think but can’t. He’s overwhelmed by sensation. His primitive brain just hungers for more. To take everything until all that is left is a carcass of the man huffing and panting in his lap. For a second, he doesn’t think he has ever seen anything more gloriously desperate as Steve. He wants Eddie with abandon of everything else. His persona seemed shed. He seemed real. Human. Not a nemesis. Not a celebrity. Not an object to covet. Just a guy. A hot as sin, ravenous, wild, hazardously beautiful man. 

Something threatens to bloom inside Eddie’s chest, and a fresh urgency springs to life, like a survival instinct almost. He reaches for Steve’s shirt and begins unfastening it. His fingers feel their way clumsily over the buttons as the rest of his body is otherwise occupied. He finds his hands grasped and pushed down to rest on Steve’s thighs as he leans back for a moment to pull the shirt over his head, and he finds his hands placed back on his torso, and that feeling of much softer than expected skin under his fingertips is tantalising but as he caresses over his body, it’s when his fingers meet the stubble at his chest or the trail down his abdomen that really sends Eddie into a spin. It overheats him. He feels like his own clothes are suffocating him. That they are needlessly in the way. He craves to feel this against his own skin and reaches behind his head, leaning forward to shed himself of some of it, but a hand on his chest pauses him.

Eddie looks up to find Steve toying with one of the many long chains draped around his neck, but instead of asking any questions, his eyes force him on a mini visual expedition of what his hands had been trailing over. A short, stunted breath leaves his mouth. This was crazy. He’s seen this body a million times in magazines, adverts, album covers, billboards, through his own camera lens and eyes, yet it feels like he’s never seen anything like it before. Littered with tattoos, a visibly heaving chest, ribs that appear and disappear as he breathes, muscles that flex and pulse as he writhes his body, but eventually, he hears him.

“Does it hold any sentimental value?” Steve rasps, his eyes trailing over and grasping onto his T-shirt. 

“No,” he replies with a pointless, unseen shake of his head. Steve immediately yanks a necklace from his neck with a grunt of effort, and he slides that under Eddie’s shirt. The chain still attached slides along his skin. Some links are still heated from Steve in parts. Others were cool enough to almost make him want to jerk away from them.

The safety-conscious part of Eddie is urging him to look at what might be happening under his shirt, but the hedonist who has clawed his way from the depths to the surface only wants to feast on what it wants to store for future reference. 

It’s innocent enough to start with, taking in how engaged he is with his task at hand, how his eyes that, naturally slope into a sadness, are wide and alive with anticipation. The way his bruised lips are pressed together in concentration and occasionally bite back into his mouth. Then his eyes trail further down to the sizeable bulge in his jeans, how it’s pressed against his own. He can’t stop his hands from sliding up to his hips, running his fingertips over the bone he hopes to be more intimately acquainted with as soon as possible. He settles on gripping them tightly, rocking his hips upward impatiently. A series of tuts raises his eyes to Steve’s face again, noticing a small smile growing, “Patience, baby. Patience.” He barely mutters out, his eyes still focused on the job at hand until his hand stills high up on his chest, the pendant still gripped in his fingers, “Hold still.” He says with an audible metallic click. Eddie dares to look down but can’t quite see what’s happening until Steve raises his other hand, splays his fingers in a V-shape, pushes down on the material, and the small blade pushes through.

Panic sets in, and a new adrenaline wave surges through him. He should leave immediately. This was fucked up. The fact he had a knife on him this whole time was terrifying, regardless of how little damage it looked like it could do. As he takes a panicked gasp of breath, he looks up at Steve, who is almost chewing on his bottom lip, his heavy-lidded eyes focused on the metal, and he makes a sound of appreciation before rearranging his hands so that he can hold the material taught and pull the blade down. It slices through easily, the fabric falling open, exposing him as it glides down. Eddie’s still breathing hard, but his heart isn’t thumping so much with fear anymore as the knife cuts through the hem, and Steve retracts the blade and tosses it somewhere into the room. His fingers grip the top of the slit, roughly yanking it apart to rip open the collar with a grunt.

Eddie stays entirely still and simply observes Steve. He wishes he had his camera to hand, as it’s quite a sight to behold. He can’t remember the last time someone looked at him like this, not just lustfully, but like he was the most spectacular thing they’d ever seen. Steve’s large hands smooth over his skin and delicately push back the material. A yearnful noise emits from Steve like he can’t have what’s laid out in front of him as he presses into his skin, exploring it with his fingertips, his eyes trailing after them.

So Eddie reminds him that he can. He surges forward, capturing Steve in his arms, pulling him in tightly, pressing them together, and capturing his mouth with his own. It’s a mess of lips, groans and saliva topped with wandering mouths, causing careless, hurried nips of cuts and bruises. But the apologies are wordless. A hiss of too much from one is answered with a pleasurable pinch or caress elsewhere by the other.

Suddenly, Steve’s thighs clench hard around Eddie, and it doesn’t need explaining, but an excited smile sweeps across his face mid-kiss. He grips the back of his thighs and moves them up to wrap around his waist. Denim drags against denim, and he finds his arousal pressed up against something a lot plusher, and at the same time, Steve’s is now pressed into his abdomen, and he resolves these clothes have got to go now. He shuffles to the edge of the sofa, one arm holding their bodies together, the other draped under Steve’s legs, holding him up, simultaneously copping a feel of his ass.

And this must be where their experiences differ because Steve pulls back and looks unsure. Eddie smiles, “Better hold on to something, sweetheart.” He realises his mistake as soon as the pet name leaves his mouth, but he’s not gonna apologise awkwardly over words right now. He pushes himself up to standing, and Steve’s arms urgently wrap around his neck. Eddie checks in on him. Just a glance, he tells himself. Expects to see an almost comical face of panic, and he does for a second until he hears the thick swallow from Steve’s throat and watches his eyelashes bat slowly in a dazed blink at him.

Typically, Eddie knows he would have settled for the couch, but like he said, he wanted everything, and one of the things he wanted most right now was to see Steve an absolute mess under him.

He pushes adjoining doors open until he finds a bed. He stops at the edge of it, peels Steve’s arms from around his neck and unceremoniously lets him go so he lands on it with an oof and a bounce. Then Eddie’s hands quickly find his own belt buckle to finally get out of the remainder of his clothes. Steve doesn’t interrupt him. He just looks him up and down as he rests back on his elbows, his legs dangling off the edge of the bed, wetting his lips in anticipation.

He lets his jeans drop to the floor and kicks off his sneakers. As he bends down to remove his socks, he looks up and finds himself level with Steve’s knee, and his eyes trail up to his crotch, but from this angle, it’s easy enough for Steve’s eyes to capture him again and as he does Steve spreads his knees apart a little more and bites his lip temptingly.

That’s when Eddie acts out of sorts. Usually, he’d just let the other guy give him a show, but he reaches for Steve’s boot, unzips it and removes it for him, and the sock and the other set in turn. Like he’s saving him then trouble. Then clasps onto Steve’s calves, kneading into them through the denim as he works his way up over his knees until his hands glide over his upper leg. Steve’s mouth drops open a little with hope as he glances between Eddie and himself, but Eddie's nimble hands skirt around the place Steve wants him most to undo the fly of his jeans, but once he removes the belt and buckle from the equation he doesn’t find one. He sees where a zipper should be, something akin to the back of a laced corset. Metal eyelets with a black cord running crisscross through them. He tugs at one end, and the ties fall apart easily. His fingertips wander into the waistband of them. He anticipates feeling the fabric of some designer brand briefs, but he finds none. Only the softness of skin. Of course, he’s not wearing any underwear. Eddie almost laughs as he stands to get a better grip on removing his pants, but he’s interrupted.

Steve, obviously not happy about anything slowing down, has sat up, pushed Eddie’s hands out of the way and is currently mouthing at him through his underwear, and Eddie wants it not to feel this good, but it absolutely fucking does. He looks down to meet the hungry, longing eyes already looking up at him, planting eager kisses and licks over the material that is gradually getting soaked through. Steve’s chipped, black, polished fingertips crawl into the band of the Kirkland signature briefs. Eddie wonders for a second how much more expensive the nail polish is compared to them before nodding and Steve pulling down his underwear so he can finally spring free of its oppression. 

Steve stops. He stares and goes a little cross-eyed before looking back up at Eddie and running his tongue over his bottom lip. This is different from how he wanted this to go exactly, but who is he to say no. Nobody says no to Steve Harrington, right?

He watches himself taken in ringed hand, fingertips running down his length are soon accompanied by the flat wet expanse of Steve’s tongue dragging up it until it’s rolling around the throbbing head of his cock, and as his lips finally wrap around him, he looks right back up at him again, Eddie has to look away. He puts his hands in his hair, lolling his head back and groans with delight. Not solely because of the fact he’s getting his dick sucked, not just because it’s someone famous, but because it felt like, finally, the tables had turned. Finally, he’s in charge.

Steve’s hands urge him closer, but Eddie plants his feet and steps back even. He looks back down to watch himself pump in and out of that pretty pink pout. and it’s so good, but he needs more. He cards his fingers through Steve’s hair, which gets his attention. Their eyes meet again, and this time, Eddie makes himself gaze back. His hand falls to the side of his face as his head bobs rhythmically. His thumb brushes over his cheek, his fingers cradle his wide-open jaw, and it feels like Steve leans into his palm. Eddie shakes his head quickly, moves his hand back into Steve’s hair, and holds onto it. And it brings the current events to a slower pace. 

Steve opens his mouth wide, extends his tongue out, and laps at the underside of the head of his shaft in a sort of come hither motion with the tip of his tongue, but Eddie does something else. He grips more tightly onto his hair and drags Steve towards him and off the bed until he’s on his knees. Steve doesn’t complain. Smiles even, with his tongue still hanging out, desperate for its next taste.

With a firm grip, he tilts Steve’s head back a little so he can see his face as he tugs hard on his hair, pulling him towards him forcefully until he gags and pulls him back off again. Looks down at him and raises an eyebrow in question as Steve catches his breath. He smiles up at him and drops his mouth open again, letting his tongue hang to his chin. Eddie slowly drags him by his hair up and down, repeatedly, occasionally forcing Steve’s nose to be pressed hard into his thatch of curls and held there, choking, his throat squeezing around Eddie as he does before he’s forced off of it again. He lets Eddie wield him like a plaything. And soon, that’s not enough either. Eddie finds himself gripping the sides of Steve’s hair, observes the grey tear stains rolling down his face, the drool pooling at the corners of his mouth, and by the gods, Eddie wishes he had his camera right now. And he thinks about it, about pounding himself into Steve’s face until oblivion, until he’s spent, leaving Steve hard and unsatisfied, but he finds his hand trailing over his face again. Whatever he was trying to prove, he felt like he’d just done that. Now, he wants something else. He wants to hear Steve fall apart.

He cups Steve’s jaw gently, encourages him to stand, and once up, he wipes at his face a little. He wants to ask him if he’s ok, but he knows he shouldn’t. He smooths his hands down his back until Steve takes matters into his own hands. He swiftly turns them around, deeply kissing Eddie as he does so, walking him back towards the bed. He feels the back of it hit his knees and sits down as Steve finally frees himself of his pants but doesn’t give Eddie much of a show about it all. Before Eddie has even had a chance to perceive how perfect his dick might be, Steve has clambered onto the bed too. He crawls up Eddie until their mouths slot together again, as one of Steve’s hands presses against his chest, encouraging him further back until he hits the headboard.

He finds himself caged between Steve’s arms, pressed against one another without a safety barrier of fabric. Desperate kisses move south to become more languid and wet at his throat, which chills him when Steve intermittently huffs out a breath over the sites of desire as his hips roll down into his own, causing delicious friction between them.

Steve moves lower but scoops his arm behind Eddie’s back, arching his chest upwards to dip his head and trail his tongue, which he wields like a demon, over it. He mouths over his stiffened nipples as he finds them, kitten licks them, chances a drag of teeth over them, as his lower position has him slowly thrusting against Eddie’s thigh. With each roll of hips, Eddie watches him slowly coming undone. Controlled deliberate kisses turn into him sucking down on Eddie’s skin, placing fresh areas of burst blood vessels next to the less recent ones. Ones from pleasure next to ones from pain. Calculated nips at his torso become full bites that linger to quieten his moans as they seep under Eddie’s skin.

Whilst it’s thrilling to watch Steve fall from grace as he uses Eddie as a means to get there, and it feels fucking fantastic, he wants it to be him that does it. He wants it to be him that pushes Steve over the edge. Up until the fight earlier, he’d been entirely sure that this guy was as straight as they come, but from what Eddie had witnessed so far, that was absolutely not a possibility. He’s done this before. Maybe countless times. Maybe with other guys like Eddie? Maybe with guys more like himself who both have to keep it quiet? Something hideous squirms inside him unpleasantly at the thought.

He captures Steve’s chin on the knuckle of his index finger, lifts his head, and receives a dopey smile. Eddie hasn’t seen him take anything, yet he looks pretty out of it, “You ok?” He asks, even though he knows he shouldn’t, but he doesn’t want to be doing any of this with someone out of their gourd.

“Mmmhmmm,” he nods on the crook of Eddie’s finger and smiles lazily. 

“Did you take something?” he asks plainly, scanning him for clues.

Steve shakes his head and crawls forward so their noses brush against one another, “The only thing I want right now is you,” his voice trembles as he leans in for another kiss. Eddie's stomach flips, which he can’t help feeling is very inappropriate. 

That isn’t what this is, he reminds himself. 

He pushes him back to break the kiss and runs his fingers over Steve’s lips, cuts and bruising included, before hooking two of his fingertips inside his bottom lip and gently pushing them further into Steve’s mouth. Eddie almost shudders at how obediently he opens his mouth wider with a nudge of his hand. He doesn’t even have to ask. He adds fingers, letting Steve suck down on them until he feels it’s enough.

He lowers his saliva-soaked hand between them and reaches for Steve first. Rolls his palm over the head before sliding his fingers easily down the shaft until he has him in his grip. At first, his strokes are slow and soft, not for Steve but for himself. He watches Steve’s eyes close, his breathing deepens and shudders, still on all fours hovering over Eddie, his fists clenched against the bedding, as his head drops forward against Eddie’s shoulder. He quickens his pace and tightens his grip until Steve is just a series of cut-off guttural noises in his ear. Then he lets go, takes himself in hand, and lazily moves his hand up and down. Their proximity means that the back of his fingers occasionally bump against Steve’s shaft. Maybe sometimes he stretches his fingers out so the contact is for longer, just so he can hear those whimpers in his ear again that are swirling around his head, disorienting him from his goal. He hadn’t realised how much faster he’d gotten, like Steve’s delicate whispered exhales reverberating through him were speeding him up. Soon enough, he finds his own moans intertwining with Steve’s.

“Fuck, you sound good.” Steve manages, and his first instinct is to quicken his pace further, let Steve’s voice ring in his ears as he succumbs to pleasure himself, but somehow he resists. Turning his attention and hand back to Steve, and the gasp in his ear, he’s sure he’ll be able to recall until the day he dies because his name is whispered out immediately after. 

He must have heard Steve’s voice in his ear hundreds of times before, listening to his music and interviews before everything went wrong. He remembers how thrilling it had been to hear his whispers on record or the bits a live recording would catch before and after a song, and now Eddie was collecting his own, all just for himself, never to be released or shared with anyone else. 

From the corner of his eye, he notices Steve’s arm shaking, the one Eddie had to beat his way free from. He sits up a little, taking the weight from his arm upon himself, and maybe it’s an act of compassion too far. Perhaps he should have waited until he’d collapsed because he feels his eyes on him again. He can’t help but glance, and he’s greeted with a snapshot of brutalised perfection. His lips, cheek, and one eye are swollen and reddening, but his jawline is still perfectly angular, the beauty marks still decorate his skin, his long lashes flatten out against his cheek when he blinks dumbfounded, maybe even a little surprised, mouth dropped open letting stuttering breaths pass freely. Eddie takes a mental snapshot. A pang of fleeting guilt runs through him, but entirely by chance, it’s interrupted.

Steve’s hands quickly reach out to clumsily hold Eddie’s face. His palms on his cheeks almost squeeze a little too hard, pulling him towards him, but the fingertips in his hair, caressing his scalp and the lips that ravenously meet his, make him forget to breathe. 

The sea of sin Eddie had been cannonballing into and happily disrupting the surface of suddenly didn’t feel like his safe space anymore. Occasionally a shadowy something below the surface reaches out. Threatens to drag Eddie down with it. He wonders how long he’ll have the strength to escape its grasp.

Eddie adjusts his position a little, doesn’t pull away from Steve, gets closer so he can take them both in hand, slides his hand over them both, takes his time, and thumbs over the top of them for any droplets of added lubrication he can find. The moans passing into his mouth grow louder. He opens his eyes to see Steve’s brow knitted together, his eyes no longer softly closed but screwed shut. Eddie moves faster, and Steve pulls back. A string of curses leave his mouth, “Shitshitshitshit.” He quickly moves out of Eddie’s grip with a hiss, “Fuck!”

“Something…wrong?” Eddie teases a little. Steve shakes his head, looks down at himself, wipes his hand over his face, and laughs a little. “If you wanna stop, put your big boy pants on and say so, Harrington.”

Steve’s smile fades, and his mood switches. “I never fucking said that. If you…” he starts, and whatever was about to leave his mouth makes him cower back down, “I-I didn’t say that, that’s all.”

Eddie can’t guess what he wants to say but wants to know, “My mistake.” He offers, and Steve looks up at him again, hopefully. Eddie hops off the bed and retrieves the wallet from his jeans. On return, he props himself up with pillows, tips out a bunch of lube sachets and condoms from his wallet and then tosses it onto the floor somewhere.

Eddie tears open a lube sachet with his teeth and squeezes it over his cock and hand. The cold sting of it makes him bite down on his lip to hold in a reactionary noise. He hitches up his knees and makes eye contact with Steve as he pleasures himself. The slick glide soon has him breathing more heavily, and like a moth to a flame, Steve is soon stalking his way back up the bed, looking between Eddie’s face and his display. Eddie stills his hand, sighs, and looks expectantly at Steve, “If I what?”

“If you…” Steve starts, and Eddie starts pumping his fist again. “If you hadn’t got laid in this long” He catches on pretty quickly as Eddie quickens his pace, lets his growling moans out freely, and watches how it makes Steve’s dick twitch when he does. Maybe he over-performs a few to wind Steve up further. He then exhales slowly as he squeezes the base of his shaft and stops again.

“What are you just playing Yahtzee with your friends in your playroom, Harrington? Is that it?” Eddie chuckles, and Steve looks a little conflicted.

Steve takes a hard swallow of what must be his pride and talks directly to Eddie’s glistening dick, “I might as well have been,” he starts, and so does Eddie, “I haven’t been able to, um, you know” Eddie pumps himself faster, trying to make the most lurid noises with the lube and an occasional exhale of a moan from his mouth. Steve is silent, quietly inching his hand towards himself. Eddie slows again, raises an eyebrow at Steve when he looks at his face, “Fuck, I mean, I thought it was gone for a year or something. Until…well, tonight.” 

And now many pieces are slotting into place for Eddie, why he’s so desperate and needy. Letting Eddie use him, why he pulled away, he doesn’t know if this is a one-off or not, and not just with him but his own body too. He wants the works, and though Eddie really shouldn’t have any pity for him, he feels a spark of it.

“Lie back,” Eddie says, and Steve double-takes.

“What?” He frowns.

“Don’t what me, asshole. Come up here, and lie fucking back, Steve!” Eddie performatively snarls, and he sees the corner of Steve’s mouth twitch up as he ungracefully hurries to obey.

He straddles Steve’s thighs, pinching them closed between his own and transfers most of the lube still on his hand onto Steve’s thigh ungraciously. Nothing too exciting for him right now, not yet.

He leans over him, careful not to create too much friction between them. Brackets Steve's broader shoulders with his arms and returns to how they started. Urgent kisses, wandering hands, teasing tongues. Walks a series of gentle bites along his jaw, licks at his throat, and sucks down onto his skin, leaving his mark as he travels down, making a kiss or lurid lick pitstop at every beauty mark and tattoo he finds. Pulls gently at the nipple piercings with his teeth and soothes over them after with the wetness of his tongue. Traces over every muscle dip until he gets to those hip bones he’d promised himself earlier. Steve writhes like the reptile he is under him as he mouths over them. Eddie might be getting a little too into it and reaches down to give himself some much-needed touch before moving down further, resting his chin on Steve’s thigh and looking up at the dewy-eyed, breathless creature above him. 

Eddie observes him and waits for his attention before blowing gently on the moistened tip of Steve’s dick. He watches Steve’s craned neck release and throws his head back into the pillows, “Jesus!” he breathes into the air above him. 

Eddie waits a little while until his breathing slows before hitching up Steve’s knees and separating them so he can lie between them. He trails a mixture of wet kisses and teeth drags along the inside of his thighs, watching his body constantly, ensuring it’s enough to keep him in that sweet spot but never too much.

He tests a slow trail of kisses along his solid shaft, which, on closer inspection, as Eddie had predicted, was indeed as perfect as the rest of him. It would almost be annoying if Eddie wasn’t having such a good time.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Steve moans as his hands grip onto the bedding. Eddie smiles. This is what he’s after, keeping him right here until Eddie decides to push him across the line. He wets his lips and pushes himself onto his elbows, admiring the gift before him as Steve settles down again. Then, he licks a fat stripe with the flat of his tongue from base to tip, and Steve jolts. He flicks the tip of his tongue along the slit to collect what is pooling in it and watches Steve’s back arch off the bed. Gods, Eddie wishes he hadn’t done that. He tastes delicious. So fucking good, Eddie is trying to spread the tiny droplet around his tongue so he can savour every aspect of it, and that makes Eddie lose sight of what he’s supposed to be doing. His hand rushes down to fuck into his own fist as he takes Steve wholly into his mouth until the tip of it threatens his throat. He just about hears Steve’s broken-off ahs and chanting of his name over his own guttural moans caused by hollowing out his cheeks and letting his tongue massage the underside of the throbbing cock in his mouth. Strong hands grip his shoulders, pull him out of his trance, and he releases him with an audible pop.

Steve’s chest and face are sweetly flushed as he’s gasping for air, and then the knitted brow falls into a content expression once he’s calmed again.

Eddie reaches over him to grab a few more lube sachets and a condom, but as he does, Steve desperately grabs at him again, pulling him in for another kiss, and Eddie isn’t sure it’s because he’s so damn close himself, but it makes his head spin, almost drops what’s in his hands. It’s not a hard, rough kiss like before, but it has passion and want all the same.

“Turn over,” Eddie says gently as he encourages him back down to the bed. Steve stalls for a second. Eddie figures he’s misheard, “Turn. Over.” he repeats softly, and this time he meets the request, “Just so I’m clear, this past year, you haven’t fucked anyone but has anyone fucked you?”

“No,” he answers quickly, though the pillows slightly muffle it, and Eddie has to bite his lips together to not whimper with anticipation as he sits behind Steve, rips open another packet of lube, and observes this new angle. The huge wolf tattoo he’s seen plenty of times, and the text stamped at the base of his spine he’d seen twice before partially, but now Wild Thing had an entirely different meaning. 

Sachet, still hanging out his mouth, Eddie has an idea. He wraps an arm around Steve’s waist and pulls him onto his knees so his peach of an ass is raised in the air. He runs his hands up Steve’s back and out to the sides so he can hold his arms. Trails his fingers down them until he has hold of Steve’s hands and brings them around so he can spread himself for him, and he wordlessly obeys as Eddie takes off his rings. 

He generously applies the lubricant to Steve and himself, secretly relishing in every exclamation or body spasm from the man before him.

He touches the pink puckered flesh, circles it gently, listens for the melody of moans he’s conducting and feels infinitely harder with each one. Waits for that magic moment when Steve backs up towards him, eager for it. Eddie pushes his finger inside and holds it still for a while as Steve’s body tenses, accompanied by a hiss until he finally relaxes. Relaxes might be a strong word because the way he’s clamped around Eddie’s finger makes him wonder if this would be possible at all.

Steve pushes back again, taking him deeper, and honestly, Eddie is impressed with how keen he is but does a quick glance of a check anyway. Steve’s face is side on, pushed into the pillows, panting heavily. He thinks maybe it’s enough. He’s had his fun, he’s already a mess, but Steve catches him looking, “What’s the holdup, stud?” he mumbles out, pushes back again, and that pisses Eddie off. Fine. He was just trying to be courteous, being fond of switching it up himself. He knows how it feels on the other side of things, but fuck it, right? Steve doesn’t give a shit.

Eddie does, however, and he’s not letting this debauched freak drag him down to something he’d regret. So he continues loosening Steve up, sometimes, to be spiteful, excruciatingly slowly, delighting between the switching Steve’s whines of frustration and groans of ecstasy as his fingertips meet the spot he knows is making him see stars.

When he’s primed to Eddie’s satisfaction and squirming in the hotel’s bright white sheets, a pathetic begging mess of a man, Eddie reaches around and quickly gives him a few firm strokes, making him huff out into the pillows. Eddie returns his fingers to his mouth for another taste, like an amuse-bouche before the main event.

He taps the sheathed head of himself at the tight entrance, pushing Steve’s hands away, and amuses himself by sliding over it a few times because it feels exquisite and drives Steve insane. He waits like a predator stalking his prey, waiting for Steve’s frustration to reach its peak. He waits for Steve to turn around with a frown, pushes the tip of himself inside as they lock eyes, wipes the scowl right off of it, and takes his breath away. 

Eddie would love to smugly smile back, but he’s gripping Steve’s sides for dear life. Jesus Christ, he was tight. He stays perfectly still. Which alone is making him start to sweat. He pushes himself deeper. Another x-rated groan from Steve and clenching around him almost has him retreating entirely. A strange jealousy sweeps over Eddie. All those noises from Steve were supposed to be his. He wraps his arms around Steve’s torso, coaxing his back to press to Eddie’s chest. Steve almost panics when he realises his weight might slide him down quicker than he wants, but Eddie holds him tightly until he’s found a comfortable squat, “There you go, sweetheart, take your time,” he croons slyly in his ear. 

And Eddie expects this evident pain slut to impale himself on his dick, but that isn’t what happens. His arms that are wrapped around his torso are mapped over by Steve’s, their fingers become intertwined, and as he turns so, they are face to face again. The grey streaks of eyeliner-saturated tears and tenderness take Eddie entirely off guard and snap him out of his attempted cruelty. He couldn’t figure this guy out at all. 

This close, he can see that no photograph would do his eye colour justice, not without editing, and where is the reality in that. Eddie gets lost in the pigments, getting bullied to the edges of his iris by his dilated pupil or looking at the beauty marks on his face that aren’t hidden by the blemishes he caused. 

Before he can say something clever or push him away, he finds his bottom lip trapped between Steve’s teeth. He pulls and drags his teeth over it as he sinks down a little more. It’s released when a groan threatens to escape Steve, which Eddie swallows down in a kiss and feels the fingers intertwined with his squeeze tightly. 

Eddie senses the danger now, but it happens in fits and starts because, in between the warning signs, his pleasure centres are blocking out any logical functions. Eddie knows he’s treading water, the shadowy thing licking at his heels, making its presence known but never quite revealing until it disappears again. He wonders if Steve feels it, too. If he feels like there isn’t just hate and lust here. He hopes to any deity listening that it is simply his hormones talking nonsense. That he’s merely just in the heat of the moment.

Steve pushes down again, and Eddie is in to the hilt. He’s clenched around him tightly and overwhelmed by sensation, and Eddie gives in. He softly sighs into another kiss and almost forgets why he’s doing any of this in the first place. Almost. It’s the roll of Steve’s hips and the whimper of “Fuck Eddie. You feel so fuckin’ good.” That pulls Eddie entirely out of his trance, reminding him of the aim here, 

“Good.” he purrs in his ear before untangling their hands and pushing him back down to the bed. 

Initially, the pace is slow, deep and deliberate as his fingers grip tightly onto Steve’s hips, and Eddie is just enjoying watching himself disappear inside him when Steve decides to say something stupid.

“Is this how you fucked that guy at the hotel?”

And in that one question, everything comes flooding back to Eddie again. The reason he’d stayed at the hotel, the reason he had to come crawling back to work with Harrington, everything he’d lost. 

With an absence of a reply, he tried to jog Eddie’s memory, “The one that looked like I used to?” As if implying that Eddie fucks so many people in hotels he’d not know which one he was talking about. It makes Eddie's lip twitch into a discrete sneer.

“No, but I probably should, shouldn’t I? Treat all you sluts the same, right?” Harrington’s body tenses under his touch as he pushes him around, making him arch more and his legs spread wider. He grabs his wrists and pulls them behind his back, landing him face-first into the bed again. Eddie tugs on his wrists, pulling him into a stretch almost. He starts thrusting again much faster this time, enough to make Harrington’s groans waver with each one, “He was beautiful, wasn’t he? Actually had some meat on his bones, something to really dig my teeth into. Something that I thought about for days later, and thank the gods for you bringing him up now, Harrington, because I get to think about him all over again whilst I fuck you wide open.” Eddie goes for broke and wants to make Harrington feel like dirt, like nothing, that he's lost it all in this moment.

Eddie sets a relentless pace. There is no talking now, just the sound of skin on skin, an occasional curse word from Eddie and Harrington’s muffled groans as he bites down on a pillow. With every noise, he fucks into him harder to shut him up until he’s just a set of stunted breaths, and Eddie becomes a sweaty grunting mess.

Harrington’s noises go up an octave as Eddie lets go of his arms and adjusts his position. And soon Eddie, hearing his name chanted again in a mixture of curse words and blasphemy, knows he’s got him where he wants him.

“My god, Eddie, fuck,” Harrington babbles. “I’m so close, Eddie, please” And fuck does he think about stopping right there, but he’s achingly close himself. Only a staring competition between this fucking giant wolf on Harrington’s back was helping.

Eddie spits in his hand, reaches around to spread it over Harrington’s length, and takes one of Steve’s hands and places it there, “Go ahead, Harrington, make a mess of yourself,” Eddie says with a slight mockery in his voice.

Harrington doesn’t need telling twice. Eddie watches his arm move in time with his thrusts and with a screwed-up face and a strained “Jesus. Fuck” Harrington spills with a loud exhale, and Eddie slows to a stop and pulls out as Harrington’s body stutters before it goes limp. He’s desperately near cumming himself, but he wants the full view. He rolls Harrington over so he’s lying in his own cum, picks up some on his fingertips and decorates Harrington’s lips with it whilst he’s trying to catch his breath. He then repositions himself between his legs and hooks them over his shoulders.

Harrington looks down but can’t form a response. He just slams his head back into the pillows behind him in blissed-out exhaustion. Eddie reinserts himself easily and leans right forward, bringing Harrington’s knees nearly up to his shoulders and leans down to messily lick over his lips as he rears his hips back only to slam them back down, a guttural winded noise leaves Harrington, and Eddie grins, looking down at this picture perfect fucked out freak underneath him.

Eddie wedges a hand between them and runs his fingers over his length to see if he’s got anything left or just to overstimulate him. He gets the latter, some amiable noises, turning into things on the edge of expressing pain, but he’s not doing a single thing about it. He slams into him again, and this time, the gasp comes with a sigh of enjoyment. Eddie continues to pick up the pace as he watches Harrington’s face contort underneath him.

And Eddie starts to lose himself. He closes his eyes as they roll backwards at the pleasure he’s feeling course through his body. He whimpers and moans, curses the gods, curses Harrington. The sweat is dripping from him as he closes in on the finish line. Steve’s hands on his face make him finally open his eyes. He’s brushing the curls and sweat from his face between huffed-out noises from Eddie’s jackhammering.

“You’re so fucking, hot, Eddie,” Steve sighs out as one of his hands reaches in between them. Finds Eddie’s hand to jerk off Steve together. “Are you gonna cum for me?” He manages before his brows push together, and he moans loud and long. In his pre-climax state, Eddie leans forward to capture his sounds for his own.

“Mine.” He growls through gritted teeth as his hips rut faster into Steve.

Steve’s unoccupied hand cradles his jaw, “Yours,” he whimpers out, and Eddie’s insides, already buzzing with adrenaline and imminent climax, completely somersault. “That’s it baby, cum for me.” he urges Eddie on, and stupefied by hormones and sensations, Eddie wholeheartedly agrees.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum so hard for you, sweetheart,” Eddie pushes through his teeth.

And that has Steve in a real mess, his arm moving much faster. Eddie watches him babble incoherent things, his eyelids flutter, and tears spill out as he cums again between them. 

This was everything Eddie wanted. He had finally broken Steve Harrington, maybe not in all the ways he wanted, but certainly in an unforgettable way.

As Eddie's most satisfying climax is seconds away, a broken Steve paints Eddie’s lips with his cum covered fingers, “Mine,” he hiccups as the tears spill out of his eyes, and he reaches up for a kiss as Eddie's hips stutter against him and he careers off the edge into complete euphoria.

As Eddie slowly comes down, he finds himself repositioned, held in Steve’s arms, fully collapsed against him, slow kisses being gently applied all over his lips and a hand in his hair. 

Still catching his breath, Eddie raises his eyes to his. With their chests heaving, for some reason, they both laugh, and Eddie sees a side of Steve he’s not encountered before that maybe he’s seen glimmers of. When he laughs, he holds on to himself, and his eyes almost completely disappear from view because the apples of his cheeks are pushed up so high, even though there isn’t much to them these days. There is only silence or the sounds of their breathing for a while.

Eddie finds himself back where this started, staring at another ornate ceiling. His heart still thudding in his chest, he chances another glance over at Steve, only to look away quickly because he was already being observed. Steve’s hand gently plays with his hair, “We should probably clean up before they get here. Make it just look like a fight.” Steve’s voice is quiet and rough, but Eddie thinks he can hear a little sadness, too.

“Before who get here?” Eddie asks in confusion.

“Whoever the label sends when they get wind of this.” He sighs, “Damage control. To make sure you aren’t gonna leak anything. To remind me to behave myself, maybe teach me a lesson,” Steve pats him, sits up, takes the condom off Eddie, ties it up, and then starts gathering the wrappers before heading to the bathroom. Eddie hears a flush before he returns, “Come on, get up,” he says kindly with a smile, “gotta get this in the laundry shoot asap.”

Eddie can see him favouring one arm over the other as he tries to gather up the bedding. He winces occasionally but makes no sound of pain. He just tries to bundle everything up as Eddie watches the melancholy work its way over him. The Harrington of it all makes Steve disappear again. “Here, let me do that,” Eddie pretends to be annoyed as he bumps Steve out of the way to take over, “Goddamn rockstars got no clue about chores, obviously” he bundles everything up in his arms, “Where is it going?” Eddie looks at him like it’s the biggest inconvenience in the world, but Steve just stares for a second before silently pointing him to the private shute. Eddie heads towards it, calling back, “Let me know when you're done in the shower.” as he shoves the material down.

But the reply is closer than he expects, “You can wait if you want, but there’s room for two,” Steve says, looking between Eddie and random objects around the room. Steve swallows, “Or you know more? I’m pretty sure I’ve had four or five in there at a squeeze before,” with that, he walks away, saying, “You know, saving the planet, Eddie, not wasting water or whatever.”

He’s frozen in deliberations with himself, can feel that shadowy thing lurking closer now, and senses the danger of where his endorphins are taking him, but he’s also curious about Steve’s behaviour now. Was he afraid of the label?

Eddie resolves to take a chance. If what he said was true, this could be their last few minutes or hours together, the final opportunity for information for his book. He quickly shoves the material down and ensures it has not got stuck on the way. And follows the sound of running water.

He eventually finds the lavish bathroom. For a moment, he is confused that he can’t see a shower but can hear one until he realises another part of the room is around the corner. He pokes his head around, and the sight that meets his eyes is not what he expects. Steve's forearms and fists against the wall, his forehead pressed against the tiles, and his body slightly hunched over as it shakes like he’s sobbing. Eddie retreats quickly and thinks about leaving entirely. Was it because of what he’d done? Fuck he’d wanted to get revenge so badly he’d forgotten there was a human inside. What had his anger led him to become? Another bully, another vile person in a despicable place.

Eddie swallows down his emotions and resolves this was enough, he’d gotten something, which wasn’t everything but better than nothing, and maybe if he could fix this with the label, he’d get his career on the up again. He nods at no one and steels himself, “Steve, are you in here?”

“Y-yeah,” Steve replies, and Eddie gives him a few seconds to compose himself before strolling in like he’d seen nothing, putting on a show, looking around the area and whistling.

“Wow, this is truly fancy, huh?” He smiles, and Steve mirrors it as best he can and pushes open the door for him.

“This is the presidential suite.” Steve jokes and that’s the last thing said between them. They shower in silence, but it doesn’t feel awkward. Steve occasionally hands him a bottle of product. He doesn’t look at him when he does; he just holds it in his eyeline to take. Eddie notices the hair products are specifically for curls.

Steve gets out, towels himself, and sits in the chaise lounge. Eddie goes to grab a towel from the pile, but before he can, Steve hands him one from a rack, and it’s warm to the touch. 

As Eddie dries off, he can see Steve examining the aftermath in the mirror. Poking at his face and body, wincing occasionally. Eddie joins him in the reflection.

“Shit, man, I’m sorry. I lost it,” Eddie tries.

“I deserved it,” he says back simply before checking over his teeth, which makes Eddie feel terrible. He looks at the floor and goes to leave, “I started it on purpose, Eddie. You tried to walk away.” Steve says as he continues to look in the mirror.

“Yeah, well, I should have just kept walking, shouldn’t I?” Eddie says solemnly.

“I wasn’t gonna let you walk out of there without hitting me.” He says, running a comb through his hair, which he hands to Eddie as he catches up to him.

Eddie plays with the comb between his fingers and leans against the hallway wall, “Do they do this often?” Eddie asks.

“Who? Do what?” Steve asks, a little confused.

“The label about people you spend time with,” Eddie says vaguely, not looking up from the comb teeth he’s running his thumb over.

He hears Steve sigh, “Look, as you’ve probably guessed by now, I’m not as straight as I’m portrayed, ok? They want me to stay that way. That’s what keeps me making money. If I were to come out, it would ruin the whole thing. So no, they don’t normally do this because I don’t normally do this. Buckley usually keeps me in line, not because she wants to, but because I ask her to,” he pauses, “and sometimes I ask her to turn a blind eye, when we’re away, when there are fewer company spies, but usually, that’s for five minutes or so, at some no coverage allowed party, you know?”

“Why don’t you just tell them to fuck off? You’ve got more money than you could possibly know what to do with.”

“Yeah, but it’s not just me, Eddie. It’s Buckley, Denise in PR, Fred in merch, and Gina in finance. Harrington isn’t just me. It’s a machine, and I’m just one cog everyone can see,” Steve says, “also, money can’t buy everything, or so I’ve found. Sometimes you gotta be in with the right people too.”

“Steve, you paid nearly a million to work with me. You’re telling me there is something millions of dollars can’t buy?” Eddie folds his arms and almost laughs.

“Do you, maybe, wanna stay over?” Steve asks, ignoring the question.

Eddie is surprised. Isn’t that what people typically say before sex rather than after? Was this guy insatiable? Did he want another round? No, he’s just made sure the evidence was gone.

���You haven’t gotta, I just thought maybe….I dunno. I guess I just don’t know what’s gonna happen, is all, and punches and fucking aside. I kinda like your company and, uh, though this isn’t your responsibility, I don’t really like waking up on my own. I mean, I could get Buckley to call someone in, but, um, they might ask questions,” Steve gestures to himself.

Eddie looks up at him, but he’s looking down and toeing at the carpet. Eddie huffs out a laugh, “Guess it beats walking past Buckley on my own right now.”

Steve raises his head, and there is a twitch of a smile, “Thanks,” he says as he disappears for a minute or two, leaving Eddie with his thoughts, before returning fully dressed, holding Eddie’s clothes and wallet. He takes the cut-up T-shirt, returns to the lounge area, and starts planning his crime scene as Eddie puts his underwear back on. He starts placing glasses and leaving drops of alcohol in them, spilling a little on the carpet and doesn’t tidy up any items cast on the floor. Partially fills two glasses and carries them through to bedroom further down the hall. He places a drink on each bedside table and hands Eddie a fresh T-shirt from his own clothes.

“You're gonna have to put it all back on, so it doesn’t look…well…gay?” And Steve bursts out laughing at that, and Eddie joins him. The bed is enormous, so there is no need to be close. They take a side each.

The lights go out, and it’s still and quiet again.

“Goodnight, Eddie,” Steve says.

“Goodnight, Steve,” Eddie says as he closes his eyes for sleep to take him.

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

Songs that inspired this chapter: Touch Me I’m Sick - Mudhoney, Low - Foo Fighters, Closer - NIN, Last - NIN

[lovingnightharmony]

My heart aches...

My heart aches, but why does it ache? maybe it's because when i hear your name coming from someone else's mouth, just the thought of your name makes my stupid little heart beat a thousand times faster, while my brain goes through those memories i have of you, your smiles that look more like a smirk but are worth a million dollars, your giggles, and even your frowns when somebody makes a silly comment, then only for a moment, just a second, its you and me, sharing breaths from being so close to each other, being able to smell your sweet,caramel like scent, cuddling on a big bed,my fingers going through your scalp,and your blonde hair looking even blonder and shining because the sun is hitting on your pretty face,there are only a couple of minutes left for us to keep cuddling, because you'll wake up, and want to start your morning routine you love so much,i will try to keep you in bed for a little longer, but eventually surrender and get up with you, that's why these last moments are worth so much more than anything else,because a second later reality hits to my face like a truck, so much harder than any of your explosions,when i realize I'm not in bed with you,and you are not there,and that guy who looks like an "extra" keeps rambling about you and your classmates, that's the exact moment my lips taste something salty,because tears are falling down on my face,my eyes being red,my lips looking puffy from crying and sobbing when i realize those "memories" were just my imagination,and it's impossible for us to be together,because your pretty little face,your crimson red eyes, your sweaty hands cause of the nitroglycerin and your perfect body from training so much aren't from this world, not just because nobody deserves to even look at them,but because you aren't real,it feels like another punch on the face,that never stops aching,because you are not here,to treat my cuts and heal my wounds coming from my little heart,that fell for a person that doesn't exists...I won't forget you, even if i find love in life,you will always be my first one, unforgettable, hot and messy and embarrassing teen like love,I really hope to find you in another universe,if there is one,and not repeat the history of me, being a girl in love with a person who doesn't exists,but to be soulmates and be happy,I feel like I'm rambling every time I speak about you,but I can't help it,I just feel...complete

Anyways,my heart aches,and now I know why, it's because you are not there,but it will stop aching,when I'll meet you again.

from:me

to:Katsuki Bakugo

Hi! nice to meet you! this is my first post and it's a really personal one since its talking about my feelings,I really liked it but it's my first time writing something like this, I'm really new at this,anyways,hope you like it!, anything is appreciated! hope to see you soon!

[afreakingdork]

Happy Birthday! I bring many comments and a few concerns.

First of all, chapter 16? ABSOLUTE GOLD! I loved every bit of it. The parts that were supposed to be scary were effective and suspenseful, you actually had me worried for a good while. And that's saying something horror doesn't usually get to me, but this did.

I also love the way you wrote his concern and care afterwards, Donnie really deserves a hug for that. He may have messed up, overdoing it a bit with the psychological trauma, but I can tell he genuinely recognizes his mistakes.

As for concerns, I'm worried about reader a little bit. Considering they did not realize it was Donnie in the moment, and he sort of forced himself on them.... are they injured at all from this? I'm aware of the... physical logistics involved, and it's already a feat to take him, but if they weren't properly ready, there could be all sorts of problems internally. I just wanna know if they're going to be just fine, or if it's gonna be another recovery like the first time...

Once again, many well wishes, and happy birthday!!

-🎶

Music!!! Hello and THANK YOU!!! My questions, concerns, and comments are ALWAYS open!!

Ah! I'm so glad all the horror is doing its work as intended. I quite enjoy the genre and have a couple scripts! Maybe someday you'll see old Dork's name on a marquee!

I'm also overjoyed he came off as authentic! It can be a hard needle to thread, especially when reality was just bent, but above all else. He tried to have reader's safety in mind, but failed and that is a problem! Speaking of, this will perfectly fall into answering your concern, which I am going to put under a cut because it's just a tad graphic:

Since its established early in the chapter that reader's safety is his top priority (and because I'm a soft baby), reader's well being was mine as well! I'm all about realism and I thought long and hard about what would happen if this were taken into consideration while Don also loses control. During the scene, you'll note that when he starts to push in that reader feels how wet he is entering and makes a point to confirm that they are not wet at all. It's never explicitly stated, but my intent here was that this was a reference to lube. (Finally right? Mans been trying to get it out since chapter 9) Also, he barely starts to insert before reader retreats to the black and white rooms. I imagine the moment he started to stick it in is the same exact moment that reader completely left him. He immediately stopped right then and went through all the tasks of stripping down, blanketing reader up, anything to try to bring them back. Also later, when reader is examining themselves, even though the 'snake-like arms' were crawling all over their body, reader makes a note that there is no bruising.

tldr; reader is physically fine, but mentally damaged which we will explore going forward!

I hope this explanation makes sense and thank you for giving me an opportunity to speak on it!

This is an incredibly sensitive and real subject. I don't want to undermine anyone's traumatic experiences. Please keep yourselves safe!

[captainaikus]

NO cause I wanna say thank you for tagging me in that Bachira gif 🥹🥹. I was literally just minding my own business 2 days ago and then BOOM that one specific Bachira clip start looping in my head and I became deceased on the spot 💀💀😭. AND I SERIOUSLY COULDNT FIND IT ANYWHERE I was so upset and then you being the angel you are just proceed to casually tag me with the exact post 😭😭😭. The way I wanted to tackle you in hugs at that moment asdfjkgffghjjhn ❤️❤️❤️. ALSO see there’s a reason I specifically avoid talking abt yandere Bachira because I know once I do then I’m just going to go phoosh and perish. Like I cannot even begin to think abt yandere Bachira or else I’d never leave that rabbit hole. That is too strong a concept for me to handle💀💀😭.

OH HO HO yandere one-shots you say?? 👀👀 I look forward to it 😌😌. Also you don’t have to apologize abt taking a bit to get to asks especially not mine it’s okay love I know you’ve been busy get to asks when you can. Rest and don’t overwork yourself okay? NO because the way Reo would actually be the worst/best yandere out of all of them. And that’s REALLY saying something considering the show is literally abt yandere soccer players 😭😭🤚🏼. Itoshi brothers are in no question yanderes literally both would be insane abt you.

Is figuring out ao3 going well? I adore ao3 so much everything so chill there and it’s super easy to navigate and the way I’ve found almost all my favorite fics on there *eyes the 500+ tabs I have open simply for ao3* Thevisername sounds very interesting. Did you make it up on the spot or is there a meaning behind it? I’m just curious.

How’s the second part of the Oliver coming along? Don’t push yourself into writing more than you can handle alright? Short and sweet is great too. Extending it to 7 parts sounds like a great idea. It’ll allow you to take your time and fresh out everything more. No cause I’m scared now that you said you cried writing part 2 😭💀💀. ALSO!!! YESSS A PLAYLIST OR SONGS FOR EACH CHAPTER TO SET THE MOOD WOULD BE AMAZING. I always love it when writers go out of their way to choose a song for their fic it just makes it a whole experience and I adore finding new songs through it.

How are you? How’s uni? Did you finish getting through those ancient textbooks? OH AND HAVE YOU SEEN THE COVER FOR VOLUME 31 FOR TR????? I tagged you in a post freaking out abt it but I don’t think you saw it 😭😭. Tumblr enough is enough 😐😐. Also I might have a solution for the tagging problem. I turned on tumblr notifications on my phone and I’ve been getting the activity and tags and messages and stuff now so maybe you could try that. Anyways. I hope you’re having a great day and that you sleep well!! *sends many tackle virtual hugs*

- ✨ anon

*me sees Bachira gif* *clicks like* *tags you cause I knew you were gonna like it* Bachira just hits different when he... looks like that. *is getting ideas to write*

Ego made them yandere footballers. I can imagine if they are that passionate behind a ball, how passionate they would be behind a person... it would be terrifying but the yandere impulses are just. 🤌🏻✨ I- I have tabs open cause of fics that I like reading on ao3; still figuring it out, gotta wait like a week or something to change the username again and by that time i should be able to finish writing part 2 and a yandere oneshot - The username is actually gonna away spoilers for part 3 to Oliver's series based on a song that I grew up with. So you'll find out when the time comes As for the second part to the Aiku series... its going the way i want to... and it got emotional for me; you're gonna see why too *doesn't want to spoil part 2 cause there are so many things coming* And then while I was writing, there was more routes open in my head so i plan on keeping the actual plot upto less than 10 parts - but the number of chapters shows '?' on ao3 cause then I can make spinoffs on the series the title of the chapters for the series is based on songs- that remind me of the chapter and describes the plot of it in a rhythm and lyrics. I'm doing good! Binging childhood movies and series, uni's been annoying *has to do a secret santa and i managed to get the guy that no one likes - for good reasons too cause i gave him enough of chances and he wasted them. and i think he's being nice to me cause he wants me to get him what he wants for christmas... his present is coal. Santa told me to do it.* i took a break from the dusty books. didn't touch em for 3 days now oh... you tagged me? I'll take a look into it. Tumblr sent me a congrats post of getting 50 likes. me - tags post : # tumblr stfu, # i've done better than this, # rubbing it in my face first thing in the morning. *clicks post*, *receives* - oops, something must have goofed up. ao3 here i come *sending funny mood panels and big hugs*

Oliver, this is us about you - ಠ_ಠ

[livixbobbiex]

I posted 99 times in 2022

That's 75 more posts than 2021!

20 posts created (20%)

79 posts reblogged (80%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@somecunttookmyurl

@kingburu

@kazliin

@kittmoon

I tagged 20 of my posts in 2022

#actually adhd - 8 posts

#adhd - 8 posts

#neurodiversity - 6 posts

#neurodivergent - 6 posts

#percy jackson - 3 posts

#pjo - 3 posts

#totk - 2 posts

#politics - 2 posts

#uk - 2 posts

#botw2 - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 78 characters

#personally i think the best approach is to stop using neurodivergent so often?

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

It's finally time for the Hyrule water theory

So this comes from an observation I made during last year's trailer

If you're anything like me and cheesed the dungeon with Zora armour, you'll remember there's a LOT of water around this castle. In fact, you can kind of see it a bit in the trailer before the entire thing gets lifted out of the air.

See the full post

437 notes - Posted September 13, 2022

#4

People who critique fanfiction lines such as "she let out the breath she didn't know she was holding" clearly aren't ADHD because that's the daily experience chief.

534 notes - Posted June 27, 2022

#3

The other side of ADHD

So one thing I don't see people talk about as much is the other side of focus issues. Like, I kind of hate that it's even called Attention Deficit because I don't think it's fully accurate. It's more like, attention meter gone haywire.

The best way to describe it is like a roleplay video game stat. Imagine the average neurotypical person has focus values in the range of about 4-6 points. For me, at random, my stats will flick between like 2 and 8. Sometimes in the space of hours.

In real terms, this results in:

Hyperfocus where I can write a 3000 word essay in one sitting; no breaks, no moving

Revolving fixations, never lost just reignited when I remember them. What follows is days of intense obsession

Being actively early for everything because of waiting mode

In the right conditions, crazy fast comprehension and reaction speeds

Tuning into other people's conversations in crowded spaces

At times, hypersensivity. Especially when it comes to hearing and smell

Ability to remember really random events in almost photographic detail. Like, sometimes I will have an easier time remembering some really mundane conversation from 3 years ago verbatim than what i did literally that morning

Same goes for random trivia. I still know the exact date the war of the roses ended, have since I was 9. I'm especially good with song lyrics

Don't get me wrong, I still struggle a lot and the lacking focus is more common. The frustrating part is that I have no control over when I'm able to do these things (aside from hyperfocus, I can kind of induce that - maybe I'll make a post about that) so it's rarely actually useful.

But yeah, I feel like it's a less spoken about portion of ADHD, closest it gets to the 'superpower' thing honestly.

I'll also note that, I'm personally unsure, but it might be that this isn't applicable to inattentive presentation ADHD. Would be curious to hear from y'all. I'm combined presentation but to me it seems more like it comes from the hyper side.

573 notes - Posted June 9, 2022

#2

I love how much we're all talking about neurodivergence here and all but let's all remember that neurodivergent is not ADHD/Autism only.

I've seen a lot of people using those expressions interchangeably and, whilst those are the most common conditions, neurodivergent is a wider label than that.

1,199 notes - Posted July 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

12 ADHD hacks that are actually helpful

Record EVERYTHING in your phone's calendar app the moment you find out about it. Mine gives me an alarm automatically before the calendar time - has saved my ass many times.

Get a little bowl or equivalent for objects like keys. That's now your key bowl. You will not lose them ever again.

Write down deadlines as early before they're actually due as you can justify. My ADHD ass never remembers the actual due date. I get all of the stress fuelled productivity with none of the actual danger.

Handwrite notes. I have no idea why, but the process of pen and paper makes me remember things much better.

If you have to be somewhere like class or work, set aside time to go for a walk first. Honestly would be great all days, but I can't even make myself do this, so it's good if you have to be out anyway (and maybe would have been in waiting mode). Burning off energy helps my brain.

When retrieving laundry (ie its dry and you have to fold it), dump it all out in the most inconvenient place possible. I like the bed. It forces me to deal with it, rather than letting it sit there.

Turn on subtitles when you watch anything - even YouTube and live TV. I didn't realise how lifechanging this was until last year.

The Breath of the Wild soundtrack is weirdly the best background music ever. It's the perfect level of stimulating without distracting

Use text to speech for long walls of text. It's great.

Did I mention phone alarms? I use it for everything - ie when I know I might hyperfocus on something for too long.

There's literally no obligation to eat 3 meals at set times. If eating snacks throughout the day works better for you, then do that. There's also no shame in things like pre chopped fruit/veggies.

I struggle with transitions sometimes. A way around this is keeping a ton of water next to me. When I get frustrated about being stuck, I just drink as much water as I can. Eventually, this means I have to pee, and physically cannot ignore it. The act of going to the bathroom is sometimes enough to change activity.

Disclaimer that this is my own experience with ADHD, which may be totally different to someone else's. But hey, these are some things I've always found useful.

EDIT because this has a lot of reblogs wow! Please feel free to share even if you're a different type of neurodiverse, or even straight up neurotypical. At the end of the day most of these are focus/executive dysfunction tips, and I'm glad they're useful no matter what your situation is!

6,741 notes - Posted May 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[uftopia]

🫂🫂🫂

It's so tricky to see things but know you'll never experience them

Last year I had a bf (and be was a piece of shit but that's unrelated) and he seemed to be so head over heels for me and I was complete indifferent to him

To the point where I was like, oh love is a lie/exaggeration by the media. I broke up with him for a lot of reasons but yeah. I figured that was what love was

Then I started crushing on my friend and I realized what love was and what it meant. I've since realized I'm demiromantic

I'm also ace though, specificallysex repulsed, and that's a scary thing for me. My ex didn't believe me when I told him, he thought I was just scared and unbeknownst to me, basically the entire relationship he was trying to "warm me up" to the idea of sex

Now every relationship I have, I have to watch out for what they want and if they're actually okay not having sex

More than that, I've also since started writing smut and I've always been an avid reader of it

But especially writing it, there's an appeal to me that sex didn't have before, but that I know, ultimately I'll never experience. And on one hand I'm okay with that, on the other hand I'll always want to experience the full nine yards of sex and sexuality but it just isn't something I'm wired for

I feel the exact same. I feel like I’m missing out on crucial parts of being human of which … I have no desire or need to fulfill. And I thought I also was Demi romantic but after dating my ex for like a year I kinda thought, “huh, I never actually crushed on them and only got feelings for them in the moment of confession, and since I have not felt that again but, oh well!” I thought maybe I just wasn’t doing it right but just ended up finding out nope this just feels entirely like a friendship to me, just now with pet names. My ex was also ‘head over heels’ but just as you said, I felt indifferent. We could break up in that moment and I wouldn’t feel any different about us.

I’m sorry you’ve been through that experience as an asexual person. I cant imagine the kind of sickening feeling you get after realizing they had kind of thought to just warm you up to it and get used to them in hopes of expecting sex, that shit sucks. I wish you well in future relationships <3

🫂

[ghstdoll]

salem learned from a young age not to cry in front of people, or don't cry at all if you can help it. nobody wants to see your tears, you just look pathetic. is what her mother would often say to her when she was young until salem eventually sucked it up and stopped letting her sadness show. but something about being with regulus made her walls go soft, falling down around her as she for the first time in a long time feels herself fighting back the tears that shine in her blue eyes, lower lip bitten between her teeth to stop it from quivering as she really tries her hardest to look strong in front of her fiancé.

however, even without saying a word it's like he's calling her out on her bullshit as his arms wrap around her and pulls her up surprisingly so. just a few hours ago he could barely walk on his own but as he carries her to her bed it's almost effortless. she sniffs a little as he's laying her back in the mattress, pulling her into his warmth as her face pressed into his chest. he smells like soap, lavender to be exact and his skin is so soft against her own, it gives this sense of home like she's actually safe for once in her life and she can hear the weak sounds of his heartbeating telling her that he really is alive, and hers and they're made for each other.

the words of carl come back to mind, how he wanted to send her away to some nuthouse. she could tell he meant it too because since he married her mother he'd always been looking for a reason to get rid of her, her father was a monster and her aunt was strange so she must be too, it was in her blood...she feels her blood running cold as she imagines what would happen if they sent her away? regulus didn't know this world, he couldn't function all on his own, he would be so lost and scared without a voice to call for help and plus people could be cruel, they could take advantage of his sweet soul and there would be nothing she could do to stop it. the thought alone makes her body feel tense, a shaky breath leaving her as he holds her tight, his fingers stroking her hair as she melts into him for a moment and finally allows the tears to shed, a broken sob leaving her.

"I hate them." she says softly, knowing she shouldn't say it at all as her fingers dig into his pj shirt. "I hate them so much and everything they've put me through..." It wasn't her fault she was stus daughter, she never asked to be born. "I just wish they'd all disappear and it could just be you and me like I always dreamed." she says with a frown, pulling her face away so she can look up at him. "you're the only person in this world that I love."

she rests her head against his chest again, closing her eyes for a moment as she tries to imagine a world where no one else existed, just him and it makes her feel a little more calm as the soft tears fall down her face. she feels at ease with his fingers running through her hair, body pressed against hers as he holds her. this is the life she wants, sleeping against his chest every night and waking up to him every morning. "you'll never leave me right?"

her legs wrap around his hips, making him sigh into her mouth, a string of spit connecting their lips. she’s traced his lips with her tongue, leaving them wet. he needs to taste her, so he licks them clean, lashes fluttering. she’s perfect, from her soft lips to the way she kisses him again, her tongue pushing against his. his mouth yields to hers, allowing her to do whatever she wants, taking his tongue between her lips to suck on it.

everything feels hot, his body burning with intense desire as he surrenders to her, allowing her to keep sucking as she makes another beautiful sound. it feels good and he never would’ve expected to do such a thing– he never knew people could kiss like this. he pushes his tongue further into her mouth, allowing her to suck on more of it. he’s never known such a primal urge before, needing to taste her and be hers because she’s so beautiful.

he likes it, how she takes charge of the situation by kissing him so forcefully even though he’s on top, his hand squeezing her throat dominantly. she gasps when he drags his cock against her, which only makes him want to do it more, needing to push the sounds from her. so he humps her like he’s trying to, slotting himself against her even though their pajamas separate them.

her hands touch his chest, moving lower before she speaks again, murmuring the most romantic words she’s said since asking to get engaged. he wants to respond but can’t, so instead he starts to kiss her back desperately, only breaking away when they’re interrupted by loud commotion from downstairs.

she pushes him off of her and he sits back, feeling stunned as he remembers her parents and the mess he’d made when he broke in, something that feels years ago now. guilt sears through his chest, already realizing what she’s about to go through. as he’s worrying about her, she cups his face, kissing him again and making his heart flutter before she leaves. how could she not be even a little upset with him?

regulus stands from her bed, moving to the door to listen in. some of it is difficult to make out, but her step father raises his voice, shouting about her making a mess of his home. salem’s voice is quieter, soft and scared and regulus can hardly hear her words. whatever she says doesn’t seem to help, carl going on a tangent about her being dangerous and shouting about her father. her sister chimes in, raising her voice to argue they can’t send salem away.

his fists clench into the fabric of his pajama pants, anger flushing his body because stacy and carl want to hurt her and take her away from him. if he had his voice he would use it; stand up for the beautiful, lovely girl who opened her home and heart to him when he had nowhere and no one. they didn’t understand how thoughtful and lovely she was, more special than anyone he’s ever known. how could they do such a thing to a girl they were supposed to care for and protect? even his own mother hadn’t been a monster capable of shipping him away somewhere he wouldn’t be safe.

he steps back when he hears salem starting to open the door, silently waiting for her to slip in and close it behind her. he can see it on her beautiful face that she’s struggling to hold back tears, apologizing to him even though she shouldn’t. he can feel how hurt she is through their bond, making him sense that aching sadness and frustration, mixing with his own. he feels guilty for making a mess; for causing her pain, even if it’s truly her parents who are the cruel ones.

but he doesn’t have the words to explain, so he walks towards her instead. bending down to scoop her up, he easily picks up her small body, carrying her in his arms to return to her bed. placing her down on it, he crawls onto the mattress beside her. then he tugs her into a hug, using his hand to gently press her face against his chest, urging her to melt against his body. slowly stroking her soft hair with that hand, he presses a kiss to the top of her head, waiting on her tears. it was too late to fix his mistake and he didn’t have words to make it better, but he could at least hold her in her small bed.

[minervasthoughts]

What do I live for?

lately, I was asking myself what do I live for??

this question made me think why am I here?? why do exist??

if everything happens for a reason then I exist for some reason.

Hugo Cabret once said: "I’d imagine the whole world was one big machine. Machines never come with any extra parts, you know. They always come with the exact amount they need. So I figured, if the entire world was one big machine, I couldn’t be an extra part. I had to be here for some reason. And that means you have to be here for some reason, too"

I believe in Hugo Cabret's point of view that's why I'm attempting to convince you of what he said by giving you several reasons why you can't be an extra part of the world, your existence is important with some pieces of advice.

Hopefully, I can change your mind even a lil bit.

The best advice I can give you is to focus on yourself, mind your own business, have an optimistic mindset, and try to apprehend and valor your feelings, your opinions, your beliefs, and your needs. Turn over a new leaf in your skills, knowledge, and talents.

Be triumphant, work hard and you'll see the developments you have made.

You aren't worthless :

Trust me you are worthy of being loved, cared for, respected, treasured, and proud of yourself for what you have overcome.

You have a big connection with the universe and you can attract whatever you want whenever you are facing a bad situation or everything is alright:

The universe loves you and works in your favor, you are worthy of whatever you want to manifest.

Enjoy every moment, life is full of peaks and valleys it's okay to go through tough terms you will get past them. You are apt of more than you think u just boundary yourself by thinking otherwise. Life is too short enjoy it and be you because you do you.

There is no doubt that everything would be different without you. Remember the world is a big machine and u can't be an extra part. Go ahead, find out your reason for living; look at all you have accomplished. Don't regret the missteps you've done make sure that they were learning opportunities.

When a stranger asks for your help in the street and you be there for them when your family relies on you financially when a friend turns to you for comfort When you save an animal a relative or even a stranger. All of these are signs that you have one of the tasks that you have to complete; that the universe sent you.

It is like giving and receiving energy because you are connected with the universe.

It's your task now:

Come on! Be the main character in your story: you are good enough, beautiful, doing great, substantial, significant, important, robust, and powerful. Don't let anyone or anything distract you.

Don't play it as the poor, needy, and sufferer. Don't be the victim in your story.

Besides, stop worrying and overthinking rather than taking pleasure in developing and discovering yourself. Find your inner peace and start loving life again.

Finally, question yourself :

what do I live for? Why am I here? Why am I wasting my time? Why am I putting myself under pressure it drained my mental health and killed my productivity. What if I manifest good energy? What if I enjoy my life and try to reach out to my dreams? Am I going to notice any change?

We will see....

http://minervsthoughts.blogspot.com/2023/04/what-do-i-live-for_0296940534.html