#pre-endgame
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hamsterdads · 1 month ago
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what do you want?
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florida3exclamationpoints · 3 months ago
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Steve (and friends) + text posts pt. 8/?
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sunnysideprincess · 2 months ago
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Steve goes back to an era he has long since forgotten how to be a part of. He goes back because it's too painful to be a part of the future without both his anchor and his home. Their ghosts which follow him through time and keep reminding him of all the things he has lost. Her gentle touch on his shoulders, acting as a reminder and as a tether. And his laughter echoing in the quiet night, letting Steve know his heart's deepest desire.
It's not easy being back in the past, carrying the ghosts of the future and the prophecies of advancement. And for this reason, Howard's warm exuberance at his appearance has morphed into great disdain. He hates the slight touch of mockery in Steve's awe. He hates the kind of man he has turned out to be. Unimpressed by the limitations of Stark's tech.
He hates that Steve seems more enamored with the boy in Maria's arms than the news of more versatile set of guns and ammo. He hates that Steve and Peggy never rekindled their stolen fire, and instead, Peggy was with Sousa, anchored in a way no one had ever seen her.
He hates that Steve disappears one morning and returns with a gloomy red headed girl and pushes her in Maria's open arms. He hates that Steve dives deeper and deeper into shield and fishes out terrible secrets to surface. He hates that this new Captain America brings home a brainwashed soviet soldier wearing the face of their dead friend.
He hates this Steve who so readily accepts Tony's gentleness and dismisses Howard's ideas of an ideal man.
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soliloquent-stark · 4 months ago
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happy birthday, steve rogers! ♡
for @fluffystevefest — aging [day four: birthday]
marvel parallels 39/?
chris evans in captain america: the first avenger (2011) and avengers: endgame (2019)
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imposterogers · 2 years ago
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one thing endgame did accomplish is ending a lot of our relationships with the mcu so like. true to its name at least
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wheneverfeasible · 3 months ago
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wc: 2.3k || rating: T || cw: none || summary: Jim Hopper and Will Byers have a bonding moment post-S4. pre-Byler || now on ao3
Jim wouldn’t say that it wasn’t an adjustment. Of course it was.
It had been easier with Eleven because, though it had been years, he’d once been a dad to a little girl before too. Not that El was anything like Sarah had been, and Jim had made absolute fucking certain El knew that she was not in any way a replacement for Sarah, but she was still a little girl. Or had been, at least.
Still was in a lot of ways, but she was growing up. Still needed her dad though, that much had become certain from the moment they reunited. He was just happy that Joyce had been there for her, had all but already been her mom even before he and Joyce finally became a thing.
And they did become a Thing. It took some doing with having to come back from the dead, with the Byers moving back to Hawkins, and with figuring themselves all out as they settled into this new normal. El had become a part of the Byers family, and sure Jim had his and El’s cabin, but it wasn’t really fit for so many people. So, with a little assistance from the US Government who owed them for an entire lifetime of pain and terror, they bought a new house.
Jim remembered when he used to live in a trailer by the lake, and here he was now living in a sprawling goddamn near-mansion in Loch Nora, not too far down from the Harrington residence actually. It was a gorgeous two-story, five bedroom, three and a half bathroom house with its own pool, and plenty of space for all the kids when they inevitably came to visit. It was…a lot, sometimes. More than Jim was used to, but he never regretted what it meant to be with Joyce.
Even if it was an adjustment.
Jim had, quite quickly, gone from being a single parent with one daughter to a stepfather of sorts to two boys, one of them already grown. He could tell that it was an adjustment to the boys as well, whose last experience with a male figure was Bob Newby who hadn’t been more than just their mom’s boyfriend.
And sure, it wasn’t like he and Joyce were married or anything. They were still getting used to the idea of simply being together themselves, but there was years of history between them, even before all this shit with the Upside Down. What’s more, Jim couldn’t take El away from the family she made with the Byers, so it only made sense to move in together. Make up for lost time.
He could tell it was awkward for the boys as much as it was for him, though Jonathan and him had reached some kind of understanding and bonding due to the boy’s age and the fact that they’d sneak off away from Joyce to smoke pot together occasionally. It was different with Will, however.
Jim could tell he was…maybe wary wasn’t quite the right word, but it was close enough. Jim knew he wasn’t the kind of softness that Bob had been, knew that Russia had changed him further, sharpening bits of himself and hardening others. He was learning to move past that though, surprisingly enough with Steve Harrington of all people and that Robin Buckley girl. They’d talked about it, finally having someone else who understood, and it…it helped.
Living so close to the Harringtons, Steve started coming around a lot more often, helping Joyce out with the kids, or shooting the shit with Hopper. Sometimes Robin joined him, sometimes not. He made certain the girl knew she was always welcome, however, with or without Steve, after she had confessed that she felt like she didn’t deserve to be part of the discussion because the Russians never hit her. He made damn certain she knew that there was more than just one type of torture.
So yeah, Jim was doing better, settling back into his normal (or as normal as it got) life, taking up work as a private investigator, though Cal had offered him his job as chief back. Jim didn’t want it anymore, however, and with the tidy sum of money the government gave to the Hopper-Byers family, he wasn’t in desperate need of money as he worked out his new occupation. He had agreed to help out, unofficially, when needed, however.
It left him time to get used to his new family dynamic, however. To be there for El, Joyce, and the boys, though Jonathan seemed to finally start relaxing again now that the Vecna creep was well and truly gone.
But still Will was hesitant with him, not quite timid but watchful. Especially when Mike was over. Jim always had to suppress a sigh at that. He had thought that he was in the clear once El and the twerp broke up, but no such luck apparently.
And Jim knew. He recalled Joyce’s words, knew what that asshole Lonnie had called the boy, and before it might have been explained away from the kid just being a gentle soul when he was younger, but there was no denying the way that Will looked at Mike. Worse, the way Mike looked at Will. He wanted to grumble, put off by the disrespect shown towards El even though she had been the one to break things off, but El had assured him that she was fine.
Jim knew how he looked. He was large, and while he was no longer portly, he was solid. He kept up with his exercise, even took to jogging in the morning with Steve and Lucas, and made good use of his new pool when it was warm enough to do so. Sometimes even when it wasn’t. He knew he was intimidating. He knew that to a young gay kid whose own father had spouted hate, it had to be scary.
He also didn’t want to out the poor kid, however. Right now it was technically only conjecture. Just an idea. He wasn’t trying to be the kid’s dad. He knew he couldn’t force himself into that position. The kid was grown enough to not need him to, after all.
But…he wanted Jonathan and Will both to know that he was there for them, whenever and whatever they needed. Jim had no problem with alternative lifestyles. As long as his kids were safe and happy, that was all that mattered.
So Jim tried to soften himself some, joked and teased Will like he did with El, made it obvious that he was in it until the end, that whether or not he and Joyce ever got married, they were his in whatever capacity they let him have them. And slowly, ever so slowly, Will began opening up to him.
It started with his artwork. He’d painted a portrait of the family, all five of them, as a Mother’s Day present for Joyce. He showed Jim first, asking his opinion and obviously nervous about it, but Jim could only praise the work with genuine compliments. He even joking said he might just have to pay Will to do a portrait for his office like those fancy muckity mucks.
Will then surprised him, on Father’s Day, with a portrait of his own. Jim was not ashamed to say that it brought tears to his eyes, and he promptly hung it up in a place of honor.
From then on, things got a little more comfortable, and Will even joined him and the others on their morning jogs sometimes, or some of the other exercises Jim partook in. Slowly Will even started filling out, and he could tell it helped the boy’s confidence some, though he also noticed it made Mike stare more too.
Jim wasn’t stupid. Though there had been a period of time where he didn’t give a shit, where he drank his life away through heartbreak and barely existed, he had still been a cop. And a damn good one once he got a scent. He could piece together clues and figure things out and see what others didn’t want you to see.
It was why, one summer afternoon while Will was sprawled on chair beside him by the pool, watching fucking Mike bellyflop after a failed jump that may or may not have been caused by El, with the puppiest of lovesick eyes that Jim had finally had enough. He sighed heavily, causing Will to glance at him, and he shook his head at the lost cause.
“Really, kid? Wheeler?” he lightly complained. He didn’t look at Will, but he could see him freeze in his peripheral vision, could feel the fear wafting off of him. Jim didn’t react to it, just took a sip of his beer before letting out another sigh. “I guess I am destined to have Wheeler as a fu—freaking in-law. But truly, kid,” he said, and finally looked at Will and ignored his wide eyes to lightly clap a hand on his knee. “You could do so much better.”
Will flinched, ever so slightly, at Jim’s hand moving towards him, and he seemed to be holding his breath, but Jim didn’t let it hurt him. Too much. It was understandable why he’d think someone like Jim, a former cop, might have some hidden prejudices. So he just squeezed Will’s knee before releasing it and settling back into his chair.
But Will just continued staring at him, blinking slowly, before his face slowly went from deathly pale to flushed pink. “I—” he started to squeak out, before clearing his throat and beginning to fidget with his own can of pop. He looked down, hunching his shoulders, before glancing back over at Jim. “I’m…he doesn’t…it’s not…”
“Will,” Jim said, fixing the boy with a look that caused him to snap his jaw shut. “What part of our family is normal?” His raised his brows and spread out a hand to indicate the pool and yard full of their massive found family, something even Jim hadn’t thought possible. “Your sister can literally kill people with her mind,” he dryly pointed out.
That caused Will to snort, a hesitant smile curling his lips. “That’s…fair,” he allowed carefully.
“Your paramour’s sister is probably a better shot than I am,” Jim continued without any ill will towards that. It was mostly the truth. “I’m somewhat friends with a Russian former prison guard. And there’s…” His eyes closed as though it was painful to admit. “Murray.”
Will let out a real laugh at that, before he looked away with an embarrassed look. “He’s not my…paramour,” he said, rolling his eyes at the last word.
“But you want him to be.” It wasn’t a question. Will looked up at Jim again, and though there was still that sense of wariness, Jim could see a small spark of hope in his eyes.
“That doesn’t…gross you out?”
“Oh it definitely grosses me out,” Jim said easily, but continued on before Will could become upset. “But just because it’s Mike. It grossed me out when El liked him too.” Will covered his mouth when a startled laugh left him, causing Jim to grin.
He glanced over at Joyce when he felt her eyes on him, and he gave her a small wink and nod. Her eyes moved towards Will, seeing his shocked and cautiously happy expression, and understanding dawned on her own face. She smiled at him, and even from here he could see her eyes shine with unshed tears before she turned back to her conversation with Robin and Steve.
Turning back to Will, Jim tried to offer an easy, open smile. By the way Will’s shoulders untensed, he thought he had to have succeeded at least a little bit. “You know more than just about anyone how short and precarious life can be. Why waste it judging someone for who they love, the way they were born? Just as pointless as judging them for the color of their skin.”
Jim indicated across the way with his beer can where Erica was sassing Lucas and Dustin about something. “You don’t judge the Sinclairs, do you?”
“Of course not,” Will rushed to say with a small frown. “They’re some of my best friends.”
“And you’re my…” Jim hesitated. He didn’t want to overstep, but…there was no denying he loved Joyce. For him, she was it, and that meant her kids were too. Just as his was hers. Whether or not he and Joyce ever got married, these were his kids now.
Jim looked at Will, who was looking back at him with that wary hopefulness again. He forced himself to expose some vulnerability, letting out a soft sigh as he moved to ruffle the boy’s hair who was probably a little too old to have his hair ruffled.
“And you’re my kid,” he finished, his voice a little gruff, though he’d deny it was from emotion. Or that said emotion bubbled up inside him again at the wide smile Will gave him. He cleared his throat, turning his gaze towards Mike and swallowing down another grimace. Christ.
“You like who you like. Anyone who causes you grief about that can come talk to me.” He let his gaze sweep over the party, taking in Joyce, Jonathan, Steve, El, even Mike, and all the others too. “And trust me. There’s gonna be a whole line behind me.”
Will flushed a little, chewing his bottom lip as he followed Jim’s line of sight. He hesitated, seemed to be bracing himself, and drew in a deep breath. “I’m gay,” he softly said, and the words sounded heavy on his tongue for how light he suddenly seemed after staring those two words that were anything but small or simple in a town like Hawkins.
“I know, son,” Jim murmured, and he leaned back in his chair as Will did the same, a relieved smile lighting the young man’s face as he relaxed fully and completely next to Jim for the first time. “I know.”
-
tagged: @derythcorvinus
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necrotic-nephilim · 2 months ago
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For the ask game: A Damian who never got the sex talk or a consent talk from Bruce (both bc he assumed that Dick, son-wife extraordinaire, would take care of that and bc he thought that Damian would be ace or celibate or something) and so in his teens after only learning about sex from the internet he just becomes like, wildly inappropriate about his crushes, including unfortunately his older siblings, especially Dick, Tim and Cass
This includes not just the bat-typical stalking online and irl, but also making comments on their bodies, flirting excessively, and one notable time, masturbating in the living room of Dick’s apartment
Everyone is torn on how to address it, if they should be saying anything at all, I mean, he’s just going through puberty, it’s just a phase right?
for the ask game!
i LOVE it when Damian has like. zero concept of how relationships work and no one thinks to talk to him about it, leading to wildly inappropriate behavior. it's my fave flavor for any Damian ship.
obviously, his first crush is Dick. and because Damian has had such little interaction with healthy romantic relationships, he doesn't even *realize* that's what he's feeling. in concept, he understands sex. but he has a very clinical definition of it, viewing it as coupling to produce an heir. (100% influenced by Ra's) so sex as a pleasurable thing, as something driven by romantic interest, that's foreign to him. he refuses to show weakness and he needs to be hyper-independent, so he falls down a google rabbit hole. i love the idea of Damian accidentally stumbling into like, forums and subreddits based on what he googles that are for people with incestual fantasies and it ends up giving him the WILDLY wrong idea about what's normal. he makes his own account and becomes mildly chronically online about it. at first, it's just a safe outlet for him to vent about his feelings. bc deep down Damian *does* know this is a little wrong and weird, he knows Dick doesn't exactly reciprocate and he understands there's a difference between familial and romantic love. but the more Damian is reading other stories online, the bolder he gets. and he starts getting more open about his attraction.
not only does he get more open about it, but his attraction spreads to Cass and Tim. for Cass, it makes sense. they grew up similarly, if anyone understands the guilt of being raised to be an assassin and now trying to atone for it, it's her. Damian respects her raw ability and naturally it turns into a crush. for Tim, it's harder to explain. he hates Tim with his whole being, doesn't see Tim as his brother. it starts as sexual attraction first, with Tim. for Dick and Cass it was romantic first, but not Tim. watching Tim train shirtless, Damian almost hits himself in the face with the workout equipment he's using. since he's never considered Tim a brother, he's never considered Tim seriously when he's thinking about incestual feelings. it startles him to be attracted to Tim too. honestly? fun concept that Damian gets so in his head with an incest kink that he finally accepts Tim as a brother to him because he's attracted to Tim, therefore this must mean that some part of Damian views him as a brother because Damian has just. entangled those feelings internally.
it's when Damian is attracted to them as well, that they all start to notice. Cass notices first, and she asks Tim about it, since she can tell Damian's feelings are toward Tim and Dick as well. they have a conversation about it and ultimately decide they can't change Damian's feelings, and they don't want to embarrass him about it because he's young and going through puberty. Tim had his own childhood crush on Dick, it happens, he really gets it. they loop Dick in, who is absolutely thrown by the concept. for a while Dick doesn't believe them. he's convinced they're reading into things. until Damian starts getting more bold. going from openly staring that could be interpreted a lot fo ways to excess compliments and flirting. Dick's used to comments about his body, they slide off easily. but when Damian very loudly makes a comment about Tim or Cass' body, Dick balks. he tries to. carefully tell Damian that there are boundaries to certain relationships and he needs to be more respectful. Damian doesn't take it seriously because Dick won't address it head-on and is dancing around the topic. Damian either doesn't think Dick is serious, or he thinks Dick doesn't understand the depth of his emotion outside of sexual desire. so he starts trying to be more romantic. flirting, gifts and gestures. it's very sweet and almost childlike, how hard Damian is trying. Cass thinks it's cute and doesn't mind it. Dick is trying carefully to let Damian down gently. and Tim is just baffled, not really sure what to do with the *very* nice new bo staff Damian got him that's reinforced and admittedly, very well balanced.
Damian gets bolder. his touch lingers, his comments get more sexual. and of course, the breaking point: he jerks off in Dick's living room. he does it when Dick is busy in another room, taking a shower. Dick comes in just as Damian reaches completion, gripping one of the throw pillows on Dick's couch. Dick leaves the room, pretends he didn't see anything and gives Damian the chance to clean himself up. but when he comes in the room, they both know that Dick knows. Dick decides he has to be more firm with his boundaries. he sits down and tells Damian it's okay to have a crush, but this is not okay. Dick repeatedly calls it "puberty" and a "phase", and Damian gets more caught up on Dick denying the realness of his feelings than the rejection. he doubles down, because he perceives the issue as Dick just not understanding how real Damian's feelings are. this isn't some silly teenage phase to Damian, he knows his feelings. obviously, the issue must be that Dick, Tim, and Cass don't understand that. so he does his best to act more like an adult. he's far more reasonable on patrol, he doesn't pick fights, he's independent. all the issues Dick has been having with training Damian suddenly vanish and well. Dick knows why, but he has to admit, it is far easier to work with Damian like this. at this point, Tim just finds the whole thing funny. Cass doesn't enjoy the sexualized comments about her body, she's always been hyperaware of how others will oversexualize her, but she still sees Damian as a young kid and doesn't lash out at him over it. she's dealt with far worse, and she doesn't want to make him feel bad about a crush.
if i were writing this, i think it'd be fun if Damian's feels do eventually fade. he stops going online so much and he gets other things to focus on trying to be a good vigilante and soon his efforts aren't about his feelings, he's just genuinely focused on himself. he grows back and Dick, Tim, and Cass breathe a sigh of relief about it really just being some phase. that is, of course, until someone new joins the Batfam and the cycle starts again. maybe it's Duke, maybe it's someone else like Terry. but at the end of the day, Damian's incest kink wins out and maybe this time, he actually succeeds. he gets his new person of affection to reciprocate with all of the attention he gives them and Dick just has to watch from the background, facepalming. bc at the end of the day, Damian will always get what he wants, sooner or later.
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angelsdean · 3 months ago
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it’s as if ppl have forgotten others will lie for money and attention lol like sorry but I don’t believe a word some random tour guide says (even if it’s confirming my ship!) esp when it’s literally just reiterating what we already have heard misha say about the pre-covid heaven reunion but with random added embellishments to act like there’s “new” info on top of what we already know. also idk why anyone is celebrating that ending, it’s still so shitty like dean only able to “accept” his sexuality once he’s DEAD in heaven ??? When he’s been bisexual on our screens openly flirting with men and doing dudes since the 90s??? Get out of here with that bullshit lmao
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heartsgettingwiser62 · 2 years ago
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10 y/o miwi starting to crush on each other + Lucas and Dustin. That must've been SO funny like-
Will absent-mindedly doodling Mike all over his notebook during class; Mike with the biggest, brightest heart eyes talking about the last drawing Will gave him like it was a Da Vinci; Will randomly zoning out of conversations bc he got distracted staring at Mike; Mike tripping on air while walking bc he was too busy focusing on telling Will a joke; Will always separating and saving Mike's favorite candy so he could give it to him; Mike whispering god-knows-what into Will's ear and Will trying to stifle his giggles for the next 10 minutes...
All of this while Lucas and Dustin look at each other like '??????'
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meg-noel-art · 2 years ago
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Okay I have to get a single vent off my chest and then I promise I'll be quiet.
I need ya'll to please realize now (before backlash at Guerrilla gets hurled in three years) DLC characters/content do not become mainstay installments in the way you imagine.
DLC characters do not become main characters.
DLC plots can be removed from the main story and recited as exposition in a main entry.
It HAS to be removable, because not every consumer buys DLC. Whether for lack of resources, access, or principal.
I just really don't wanna see people griping that Guerrilla "dropped"... ahem, anything... in three years from now. Or that some kind of endgame was promised and then taken away.
We been knew, or we SHOULD know bc this is how DLCs have worked always forever.
Not to mention BS was even MORE exclusive by proxy of being literally exclusive to a console people STILL don't have easy access to.
Please everyone just be reasonable when the time comes, that's all I'm worried about.
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storfulsten · 9 months ago
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Whitty And Bf Personality Swap? Lovely Art By The Way, Truly Inspiring. ( ´ ∀ `)ノ~ ♡
hm I guess k, not feeling the most creative but here lol
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idk lol
mostly based on this bc idk thought the vibes looked fitting in theory lmao:
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nerdylovetastemaker · 4 months ago
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oat milk
"What all these people are doing is not  aggressive;  they are inventing new possibilities of pleasure  with strange parts of their body - through  the eroticization of the body."  
Steve was kneeling in the bathtub, a towel under his knees and another under his hands, his head turned as he craned his neck to watch Tommy working. The younger boy swirled the spoon around in the over-large bowl before tapping it against the rim and laying it on the counter. "You know it'll cool down a little once I get it in the bag, but is that good?" Tommy bent over next to the tub so Steve could slowly dip two fingers into the bowl, nodding once.
"It's fine."
Tommy nodded again, reaching out to stroke Steve's hair before standing back up and returning to the sink, where all of the equipment was spread out. The hook was already hanging from the shower curtain so Tommy could hang the bag as soon as it was full. "Go ahead and take the plug out, baby." His voice was soft, gentle. "And start with your fingers."
It was the gentlest of their "darker" interludes. No name-calling or hair pulling or punishments for noises of pain. It hurt enough on it's own, was degrading enough on it's own, Tommy didn't need to add anything to that.
Tommy felt a small tremor run through his body as he heard the soft moan coming from the bathtub, knew the other boy had just extracted the plug. He glanced up at the mirror, watching the boy set the glass plug on the edge of the tub next to the bottle of lubricant. Steve picked up the bottle, desperate to fill himself as he opened it, dripping some of the lubricant onto his fingers and rubbing them. It was cold to the initial touch, but warmed up as his fingers moved.
"You're so fucking hot like that, baby," Tommy purred, from the sink where the bag was nearly half full. "Now, go ahead."
Steve flushed warm from the compliment, his wrist sliding down along his waist, hipbone, the curve of his ass. And then his fingers were poised, resting against his entrance before pressing in. He was already loose from the plug so it was an easy intrusion. He didn't even bother with more lubricant before pressing a third finger in, moaning outright at the stretch. He started as he heard the click from Tommy hanging the bag. "Already?"
"Don't sound so disappointed," the boy chided softly. "You can keep your fingers in for a second." He almost added a soft 'slut', but stopped himself. Tommy leaned down, reaching for the bottle of lubricant, letting himself hover over Steve for a moment, his breath tickling the back of the boy's neck. "Just think about everything I'll do after," he whispered before straightening back up and slicking lube across the tip of the nozzle and his own fingers. "Okay."
Steve whined, but slowly pulled his fingers out anyway. He wasn't empty for longer than a few seconds, Tommy's fingers immediately sliding over his opening before pressing in, then pulling out to press in the tip of the nozzle. "Breathe," he murmured, fingers running down the boy's spine. "I'm going to now, okay?"
"Wait," Steve choked out.
"I'm going to now," Tommy repeated, voice a little harder this time. "You're fine." He kept his fingers running along the boy's spine as he loosened the clamp.
Steve bit his bottom lip, moaning as he felt the first rush of the warm oat milk sliding into his body. The beginning of the enema was always like Tommy's fingers were now, smooth and soft almost. The cramps would come soon enough, but Tommy's fingers would still be the same.
When they started, one of Steve's hands flew up to his stomach and Tommy stopped the flow without a word, letting the other boy massage his abdomen to ease the pain. "Just tell me."
"Okay," Steve whispered, his hand still on his stomach. Tommy loosed the clamp again and Steve felt the warmth continuing to enter his body. He continued to try to massage away the dull ache of the cramps as he felt his stomach slowly begin to expand from the amount of liquid he'd taken. "Stop," he choked out again. He wasn't supposed to ask how much, but he was desperate to know. He'd felt like he'd taken half already, but he knew it was probably more like a quarter of the bag. "Bren?" he asked, voice close to cracking. "I-I . . . Tommy." His voice was weak.
"You're doing great, baby." The boy leaned down, letting soft kisses feather along Steve's lower back. "So good."
The tears were starting to build up. Steve could feel them in his chest, waiting there, another ache in his body. "I don't . . . I . . ." He let his head fall forward, trying to slow his breathing, trying to focus on Tommy's fingers instead of the liquid inside him. "Okay," he whispered,voice cracking as the first tears slid down his cheeks.
The flow continued and Tommy slowed the flow without a say so after five minutes or so. "You're taking it so well, Stevie," he cooed. "You've got half." He usually didn't tell Steve how much he'd taken, but it had been awhile since they'd done this and he didn't want the boy to break before he managed to get both quarts in.
"Half?" Steve asked, voice timid, as if he wasn't sure if he should be relieved or disconcerted.
"Mhmmm." Tommy leaned forward, letting his lips kiss the back of Steve's neck, then between the boy's shoulder blades. "Are you ready for more?" When Steve hesitated, Tommy squeezed his hip. "You can take it, baby. You've done this before."
Steve's head nodded a fraction of an inch, his breathing already labored. He gave a small squeak as the oat milk started slipping into his body again. "Please, please, I can't." He shook his head, the tears coming out for real now. Tommy clamped the nozzle again. "I can't, Bren, please. I . . . I need to . . . please."
The younger boy reached his hand down to Steve's stomach, the curve of a belly that wasn't there usually. "I know you can take this," he said, voice low but not angry or disappointed. "I know you can, Stevie." He let their fingertips brush. "But I won't make you," he added. "It's up to you."
Steve hated that. It would have been so much easier to go along with it if Tommy hadn't give him the choice. Now it was up to him to decide if he wanted to be selfish and disappoint his boyfriend and not get rewarded or just go along with it and deal with the pain. "I'll try," he mumbled weakly, squeezing his eyes shit and biting his bottom lip between his teeth as he felt the flow again.
Tommy slipped his hand down Steve's stomach to wrap around his cock, gently stroking, trying to turn the whimpers that the older boy was now making into moans. "So good, baby," he kept whispering over and over. "You're taking it so good."
"H-Hurts," Steve choked out. "Break?"
Tommy locked the clamp again, letting Steve rub at his stomach and try to catch his breath. "It's almost all in," he said gently, still stroking the other boy's erection. "Just a little bit more. I know you can take it, Stevie."
"How much?"
The question hung heavy in the air for a moment. Steve wasn't supposed to ask and he knew it, but he also knew Tommy never spanked him or punished him during an enema, so the worst possibility was simply that the other boy wouldn't tell him.
"Probably four ounces," Tommy answered finally. "I'm going to start it again, okay? You can take this all in one go."
Steve nodded, gritting his teeth and counting silently in his head, hoping it wouldn't take longer than a minute to finish. He was only a few seconds over when the flow stop and Tommy planted a kiss to the small of Steve's back. "I'm going to switch it out for the plug, okay? Keep it in."
Steve tightened his muscles, his toes curling as he did so. It hurt, tensing up along with the dull ache in his abdomen. Even with all his tightening, a little bit of the oat milk/water mixture escaped, sliding down the inside of his thigh. Then the plug was in and he could relax his muscles, but only somewhat. Tommy picked up a washcloth and wiped at the liquid that had slid down Steve's skin.
It wouldn't be too long, Steve knew, but it always seemed an eternity. Five minutes or ten minutes could feel like hours. Tommy's fingers slid up Steve's back until they were twisted, gently, in his hair. "I can't wait to get you on the bed," he said thickly, voice low and gravely. "Gonna shove my tongue in you so deep, baby."
Steve moaned outright, despite the dull pain in his muscles and stomach. It was a low moan, soft, but a moan nonetheless, and Tommy smiled at the sound. "Is that what you want?" the younger boy continued in the same tone. "You want my tongue in you, want me fucking your ass with my mouth? You're going to taste so fucking good, baby." His fingers tightened slightly in Steve's hair. Not enough to cause any pain, just enough to make the boy gasp, then moan again. "Then I'll fuck you. So hard, baby, so God damn hard. So deep inside you. And then you'll take my come in your pretty mouth."
Steve was whimpering, his hips moving ever so slightly, squirming. "P-Please?" he choked out. "Please?" He was begging for release. He knew it hadn't been long enough, but if Tommy kept it up, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold it in.
"I think you can hold it for another couple of minutes." But Tommy let go of Steve's hair and sat back slightly, just letting his hands run slowly up the boy's sides. The older boy was quiet, just a few whimpers leaving his mouth, but still squirming. Tommy let his hands slip lower until he was firmly squeezing Steve's ass in both hands. "Almost, baby. Almost."
There was another minute or so, Tommy's fingers skimming over the curve of Steve's cheeks and the older boy trying not to lose anything, trying to keep his muscles tensed just enough. "Okay." Tommy stood up, slowly, kissing Steve on the back of the neck before stepping out of the tub. "Slowly," he warned the boy. "Don't lose anything, okay?" He held his hands out, letting Steve take them as he stood and gingerly climbed out of the tub.
Tommy lifted up the lid of the toilet seat and helped Steve to sit. This was always when Steve started to cry again. He hated it, hated how Tommy was there for the release. So humiliating, worse than threats of letting Spencer watch or having Pete fuck him that one time while Tommy took Polaroids. "Please, just . . . I can," Steve said. "I'm fine. I can."
Tommy looked stern, frowning, shaking his head slightly. "Stop."
Steve cried harder, bringing his hands up to push at Tommy when the boy moved closer, but too submissive to actually to do it as the boy reached between his legs, fingers closing around the end of the plug. "Please," Steve whispered again. "Please, Bren."
The boy ignored him. "Don't let it go until I tell you to." He let Steve's face fall into his shoulder. The boy was shaking from his choked sobs as Tommy slowly pulled the plug out. He set it on the counter next to the bowl he had mixed the oat milk and water in. One arm came up around Steve. Despite his tears, the boy was still clenching, tighter than probably necessary. "Okay, go ahead."
Steve shook his head. "No." He cried harder when Tommy pressed his lips against the boy's temple. "Please."
"Steve. Now."
The boy was still crying, clinging desperately to Tommy as the first drops of the mixture began to slip out. And then, like always, he realized he really had no choice and just let go, sobbing harder as he heard the liquid falling into the toilet. For Tommy's part, he just held the boy, fingers running down his back, cooing soft sentiments to him. "Good boy, good job, Stevie."
Finally the noises slowed and Tommy took a step back, letting Steve wipe and flush the toilet. They both washed their hands in the sink and Steve blew his nose. "I'm sorry," he whispered, refusing to look at Tommy. "I . . . I didn't mean to . . . I know you won't hurt me."
Tommy's cool fingers, still slightly wet from the water, slid under Steve's chin, tilting the boy's face up to meet his eyes. "Thank you," he returned, leaning in and kissing him, soft at first, then harder, tongue slipping in. "Bed now," he added, unable to contain his smile as he felt Steve's lips curve upward against his.
They walked out to the hotel bedroom area and Tommy nodded silently, indicating Steve should assume the position on the bed. "Back or . . . or knees?"
"Knees if they're not too sore."
Steve would take a lot more than sore knees for a rimjob, as he'd clearly demonstrated, so Tommy nodded his approval as the boy got on all fours on the bed. Steve kept his head facing forward, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder and watch Tommy. The younger boy loved that, how he didn't have to order the boy do it. Steve obeyed the unspoken command of his own accord.
The bed sunk down as Tommy knelt behind Steve, hands squeezing the boy's hips. Tommy leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Steve's entrance, smiling when he heard the moan. His mouth opened, tongue slipping out, licking in broad, even strokes, knowing it would do nothing but tease Steve, torturing him. And, truthfully, it was all Steve could do to keep from pressing his ass back on Tommy's face while begging 'more more more'.
Tommy sat up and leaned forward, pressing two fingers to Steve's lips. The boy sucked them into his mouth without a word, his tongue sliding around the digits, trying not to get overeager, trying not to just beg Tommy to fuck him and start grinding his hips into the bed. When Tommy pulled his fingers from the boy's mouth, he leaned in for the kiss, smiling as he swallowed the moan from the intrusion of his fingers entering Steve's hole while they were still kissing.
Then his mouth was gone and Steve's fingers twisted in the bed sheets knowing what was coming, the muscles in his body tensing in anticipation. Tommy's fingers pulled slowly, evenly, opening Steve up just enough to slip his tongue in, licking around the edge of Steve's entrance. He licked over his own fingers as he slowly added another digit from each hand, pulling Steve more open, exposing him more. His tongue slipped in deeper and Steve tried so hard not to push his ass back on Tommy's face.
The younger boy's tongue started dipping in and out, slow and first, then quicker. Steve was moaning, head thrown back, hips barely rocking. Tommy pulled his tongue out and his fingers, letting his lips press against the hole that was still open to the air. He began to suck and Steve let out a stream of expletives that Tommy had never heard before. He let up on the pressure, his tongue slipping back inside once more, teasing, pulling out to trace around the inside.
"Fuck me?" Steve asked, voice high-pitched and uncertain.
Tommy pulled off almost immediately, but didn't straighten up yet, pressing two fingers into Steve abruptly, smirking at the boy's gasp. He slowly twisted them. "You want me to fuck you?" he asked as if he hadn't heard, voice casual.
"Please, Tommy," the older boy returned desperately, pressing back against the fingers, his head falling into the pillows as he collapsed on his arms, support following to his elbows.
The fingers slipped out and Tommy helped turned Steve to his back, kissing him softly on the mouth, enjoying Steve's tongue probing his mouth curiously, searching for the taste. He pulled away after a moment and the older boy gave an airy sort of sigh. Then he was between Steve's legs, bending them at the knee and separating them, settling between the thighs before he pushed in, no lubricant and no warning.
Steve made a low noise in the back of his throat at the burn, the stretch. He'd been waiting for this. Tommy hadn't fucked him for a week, not properly. Toys and fingers and a fist, but not this. So simple, just them. Nothing artificial. He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's neck, leaning up to kiss his neck. They looked like any other couple just then, he mused. No one would have been able to look at this scene and guess that Steve had just been given a two quart enema or that the other day he'd been made to stand in the corner for an hour after Tommy had spanked him fifty times with a hairbrush.
Tommy could tell Steve was thinking and he angled his hips, shoving in roughly. When Steve's eyes popped open even wider and he let out the tiny squeak, he knew he'd found the spot. All semblance of thought seemed to evaporate from Steve's features as he just gave in and starting rocking against Tommy's hips, moaning. He reached for his boyfriend's hand, pressing the palm against his throat. "Please," he whispered.
Tommy didn't need to be told twice, squeezing down on Steve's neck, releasing after a moment to let him gasp for breath. Then his hand tightened again and they repeated the pattern until his boyfriend started shaking his head, not wanting to use the safe word, but wanting Tommy to know he'd had enough. His hand fisted in Steve's hair then, squeezing tight enough to hurt, but not hard enough to pull the hair out. "Touch yourself," Tommy breathed.
Steve obeyed immediately, one of his hands falling from Tommy's neck to slip between them, wrapping around the base of his cock, stroking in a slow rhythm that contrasted with the thrusts. He didn't want to come yet, but he knew he didn't have a choice anyway. He'd come when Tommy told him. That was the rule.
"Faster," Tommy growled, shifting his weight so he could press in deeper. "I want you close, Stevie. Tell me when you're close."
The boy nodded, quickening the speed of wrist obediently, letting his eyes shut for a moment before he opened them back up. Tommy liked to watch him, said he could see Steve melt through his eyes when they were in bed. He felt the hand tighten in his hair slightly and he stopped moving. "Close," he choked out.
Tommy smiled, letting Steve wonder if he was going to have to hold it, have to wait, have to worry if he could. But it was late and they had to be up in six hours. "When you feel me come, you can," he said, nipping Steve's bottom lip between his teeth. The thrusts got impossibly harder after that, but only for a moment.
Tommy bit the inside of his cheek to keep from yelling as he felt himself explode and then Steve's wrist was flying as he moaned, low and whorish. Tommy could feel Steve's come hit his stomach as the older boy started swearing, his ass clenching down on Tommy's cock as his orgasm tore through him, leaving him breathless and gasping for air.
Steve collapsed prematurely, still feeling his orgasm rocking through him, but unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to think. And then he felt Tommy pull out, leaving him empty and loose. He whimpered at the loss, turning and pressing his face into the boy's chest as he laid down beside Steve in the bed.
Tommy's arms came up, feeling Steve's body trembling. "Baby, baby," he murmured. "Shhh. It's all right." He kissed the boy's temple, fingertips gently massaging feeling back into Steve's muscles. "We're going to sleep now, okay? Early morning."
Steve whimpered, nodding, wondering if he'd be able to walk properly the next day. "Brenny?"
"Yeah, baby?"
"I love you."
"I love you, too, Ry." Tommy waited until he'd stopped shaking before he got up to turn out the lights and set the alarm on his phone. Then he crawled back into bed and held Stuntil he fall asleep before he got up to clean the bathroom and put the equipment back in their suitcase. He was only going to be running on two hours of sleep the next day, but it had been worth it.
ao3 link
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Steggy + textposts pt. 13/?
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stelstellakidd · 29 days ago
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HALLOWEEN CHALLENGE ⇄ DAY FIVE. SOCIAL MEDIA
—» in which tj barton has one account for his daily teenage activities and another for his ranger persona that his dad should definitely never see.
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kit-middleton · 8 months ago
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I wrote a thing! It’s in the same universe as Delayed Gratification.
“I apologize,” Peter continues. “The way you face down threats time and time again, I forget how young you all are. It wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable—”
“Yes, it was.”
Stiles doesn’t want to be a virgin sacrifice, so he does what he is best at: research.
Unfortunately, he might be thinking out loud.
Peter offers to help, rescinds his offer, then offers a different kind of help.
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cannebady · 2 years ago
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This is a horny and angsty steddyhands thought but like
What if Izzy starts realizing his mistake. Edward gets more and more reckless as time goes on. Becomes dangerously withdrawn and unpredictable, as much of a liability as Bonnet at his worst, and Izzy isn't an idiot. No amount of hero worship can mask the bile-tinged loneliness in Ed, the hole that lives in him now that rum and violence, and chaos, and even Izzy himself can't fill. So, with regret, he leaves Jim in charge and goes out to find Stede Fucking Bonnet himself because he has to atone, fix what he broke, or Izzy fears Edward will be lost to the ages before his time.
He finds Bonnet, along with his playthings, just off the coast of Nassau over a week after setting out. They somehow commandeered a small ship of their own, which even Izzy has to admit is impressive considering their lack of weapons and ability, and have been making their way towards The Revenge as fast as they could, stopping port to port to see if they can find word of their last known whereabouts. Bonnet shows him the logs, surprisingly well kept, and Izzy realizes that Bonnet would've caught up with them months ago had Ed's erratic moods and the bounty on his head not led them on a ludicrous goose chase across the ocean. For the first time he wonders if there might be more to Stede Bonnet than he initially thought. It certainly wouldn't be the first thing Izzy was wrong about.
They go to Stede's quarters and he offers Izzy a drink. It isn't served in the china that formerly occupied the Captain's quarters on The Revenge, but it's nicer than any pirate, hell any sailor, should have aboard a vessel, but the brandy is good so who's he to complain? He's about to try and figure out why Bonnet fucked off instead of coming back with Edward, and attempt to do so while not shooting daggers at the entitled shit that got Edward's love and tossed it away like nothing, like it wasn't the only thing Izzy's ever wanted for himself. Anyway, he doesn't have to because Bonnet just starts talking, Izzy should've figured he would, and somehow he pours out his heart to Izzy about his kiss with Ed (damn him), the plan to run away together (fucking Edward and his fucking plans), the twat from the British Navy, and the spectacularly bad bout of decision making followed by some fuckery that Ed will absolutely love hearing about once he's stopped being furious. Which he will be, but at this point with Bonnet or himself, or both is up to the fates and Ed's temper. But Bonnet is sincere if nothing else, and he gave away all of his wealth which Izzy thinks is very stupid but Ed will think is romantic, so he'll probably forgive the ponce and then they'll live happily ever after and Izzy can fade into obscurity. Try as he might to disagree, it was always going to end that way.
Fine. It's fucking fine.
Over the next several weeks, Izzy realizes that Stede has gained some decent skills, perhaps not as a pirate but as a solid enough sailor. He doesn't like admitting it and he still thinks he's mostly useless, but he is functionally less useless than he used to be which is probably the reason they didn't all die before Izzy found them. Reluctantly, he starts to view Stede as a partner in his mission rather than a mark.
Then Stede asks him to have dinner in his quarters or help him chart their course and, surprising himself above all, he agrees easily. It turns out that they can even work well together if Izzy can put the fact that he hates him out of his mind. It's getting easier to do with time. So easy, in fact, that Izzy's doing it most of the time without conscious thought.
It's the lack of conscious though, Izzy thinks, that leads to some of his worst ever decision making and that really is saying something.
There's rum involved, of course, but there's also gin and Izzy will never admit it but gin is the spirit that makes him loose and lascivious. It has him thinking that Stede's not the worst conversationalist. Thinking that he's actually a fucking blast once they're both deep in their cups. He's a natural story teller with a dry, downright bitchy, sense of humor and Izzy's loose and feeling cautiously optimistic that he can fix Edward, and then the topic of Edward comes up and Izzy doesn't have the forethought to school his expression and Stede wouldn't think to.
"So you kissed him?" Izzy asks, ignoring slurring that definitely did not happen.
"I did. It was wonderful." Stede replies, eyes closed and smiling like it's his best memory. It probably is.
"Lucky bastard. I never got the chance. Wasn't like that with us." Izzy replies. It's not even snarky if he's honest. Maybe just a touch lovelorn.
"S'ridiculous! You've, well, you must have?" Stede slurs.
"Must've what?" From far away Izzy hears a pounding and it takes him a moment to realize it's his heart.
"Been together?" Stede replies and looks him dead in the eye.
Ah. So Stede isn't totally oblivious.
"Nothin' as poncey as 'being together'. We fucked plenty but I'd have remembered kissing him." Izzy's being awful fucking honest.
But he's also looking at Stede. Looking at the way his cheeks redden and heat at even the concept of Ed and Fucking in the same sentence. It's sweet. There's a long-dormant part of Izzy, one that went into hibernation when he met Ed at the tender age of nineteen, that wants to claim that expression for himself. Wants to be the one who caused it.
It's the tail end of that thought that makes him ask a woefully fucking stupid question that catalyzes the whole damn string of bullshit events that follow.
First he asks, "So, have you ever fucked a man?" to which Stede chokes and blushes further, effectively answering the question.
Izzy's sitting up and in Stede's face faster than his gin-addled body should be able to move.
His hand grips the collar of Stede's simple linen shirt, much without his permission, and his mouth takes the cue to say, "Do you want to?"
And then it's a flurry of movement, of Izzy straddling Stede's lap, both fumbling their breeches open, and finally hiding his head in the crook of Stede's neck while he strokes them off together.
Stede's moaning like he's getting paid for it and that gets Izzy hot like nothing else, and he's biting bruises into the tender flesh of Stede's neck and fuck this isn't going to last long at all.
He knows that Stede is fucking him as a replacement for Ed. He may well be fucking Stede just to get under Ed's skin, just to say he got there first, tasted the forbidden fruit and sullied it before Ed ever got the chance.
A bigger part of him thinks that he's trying to get as close to what Ed loves as possible. It's the closest he'll ever come to having that love for himself.
Either way, Stede is hurtling towards his finish, throbbing and thick and blood hot in Izzy's hand.
"Go on, come for me like you want to come for him," Izzy growls and Stede whines and comes almost on command.
Fuck. Fuck, that's fucking hot. Izzy follows moments later, silent as he always is, but biting into Stede's shoulder. It's only now that he realizes that Stede had one hand on his back and the other in his hair. It's more intimate than he's prepared for.
They don't speak about it. They disentangle, get dressed, and go their separate ways for the night without speaking another word.
They don't talk about it the next day, or the day after that, or even after it happens again a couple of days later.
They don't talk about the fact that they're trying to fuck Ed through each other and Izzy definitely doesn't talk about the fact that he's started to want Stede in his own right.
He wants to kiss him and feel what Ed did. He wants to claim him for himself. He wants both and nothing and everything all at once.
They don't talk about it when it keeps happening, so often that crew is catching on. They don't even talk about it during, with Izzy resolutely keeping his face turned into Stede's neck or chest or anywhere that he won't see what's happening. Wanting things for himself has never been part of Izzy's game but fuck does he want this and he can't have it, no matter what.
It's fine. Fuck, even if it isn't, it's fine.
It's the beginning of the end. Stede's got him pressed against a wall, rutting against each other with abandon, when it all falls apart. Izzy was desperate and made the mistake of making eye contact with Stede in the galley. They didn't even make it back to Stede's quarters before they were pressed together for all they're worth.
Something feels different, but he can't parse it out through the feeling of Stede's hand stroking him off, or the feel of Stede's arse in his palms, or the fact that Stede's cock is pressed so tightly against him, still trapped in linen, that he can feel it like a brand on his hip. It feels fucking right and Izzy wants more.
Suddenly, Stede's speaking and it's a shocking enough deviation from the norm that Izzy can't even process the words for what they are for a moment.
"Izzy, Israel, please let me," he's repeating into Izzy's ear.
His name. Stede said his name. He's been laboring under the assumption that Stede is picturing Ed during their trysts. No matter if Izzy had stopped doing that after the first go around. No matter that Izzy sometimes got himself off to the fantasy of Stede telling him he wanted him just as he is.
To have it happen? Izzy's unprepared. He's also unprepared for having to rebuff someone who has their hand nestled so sweetly against his cock that it almost hurts from the pleasure. Because he can't have Stede. Ed already staked his claim and this whole fucking plan was for him to fix Ed, not fuck the love of his life. Not steal him away, even if that's what Izzy wants to do because he's a pirate and he's not used to not taking what he wants. He is used to sacrificing for Ed, though, so he'll do it, even if it kills him.
"Can't," he grunts, "We can't. Ed-" he can't continue because Stede started kissing up his neck, following the lines of the swallow tattoo, and he's moving up, closer and closer to his jaw and fuck what he'd give for a kiss, a real one.
He won't be strong enough to call it off after that.
He uses the rest of his strength to grab Stede's biceps (and good fuck did all that rowing do wonders, fuck, fuck, fuck) and push him back. His hair is wild from Izzy's hands and he looks desperate and fuck is it a good look.
"You're Ed's, I can't." Izzy grits out.
"But I want," Stede starts and goes to angle for Izzy's mouth and fuck this is going to fucking kill him.
"Save it for Ed, yeah? I'm a poor substitute." He replies and shuffles out from between Stede and the wall.
He doesn't look back. He can't see the look of agreement and understanding on his face. It's one act of self preservation in a maelstrom of sacrifice. He won't acknowledge the tears that want to fall or the rage at how unfair it is that he'd fall in something with two people who wanted each other and not him.
If he had looked back, he would've seen a look of pure heartbreak on Stede's face.
Instead, they both go to their separate chambers and wonder how they're going to work this out.
On the horizon, a familiar flag comes into view.
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