#fan fiction (kinda)

[horsechestnut]

I just think it's really neat how much fans have latched onto the fact that Stephanie Brown was Robin.

Like, both in and out of universe Stephanie was never meant to be taken seriously as Robin. The writers only made her Robin so that her death in War Games would be shocking and Bruce only made her Robin because he thought it would make Tim jealous enough to come back. She only had the mantle for 71 days before being fired (for doing something that literally every other Robin has also done and not been fired over), and she was only active during 50 of them. There are only six issues where Steph is Robin in the canon timeline.

Her final words before her death are asking Batman (Batman, because even on her death bed he doesn't trust her enough to take off his mask) if any of it was real. Was she really Robin? And Batman assures her that of course she was, that she was part of the legend and no one can take it away from her. Except it's a lie, because despite his reassurances, Batman never puts up a memorial or does anything to preserve her memory. He never really thinks of her as Robin, and even her friends will always think of her as Spoiler before ever remembering Robin.

Meanwhile DC spent years ignoring her time as Robin, to the point where it was completely erased from existence for awhile. It's technically back now, because timelines are weird, but unlike the others it's never been altered. She's never been given a second chance at it, no one's ever gone back and added more issues or details about those 71 days, or even seems to want to acknowledge them most of the time.

But fans have clung on to it anyway. Sure, there are lots of people who make Robin posts that are just about the boys, but there are just as many people who are ready to fight anyone who doesn't include her. Maybe it was only for a little while, but she was Robin, and we're sure as hell not going to forget it. If DC isn't going to bother to remember, than we will.

Stephanie Brown was Robin. She was part of the legend. It was real. No matter what, no one can take that away from her.

[haley-harrison]

[violetsteve]

If you prefer, this is also posted on AO3

After the almost end of the world, Steve decides he’s going to put the moves on Eddie Munson.

Robin may or may not laugh in his face when he announces it.

The thing is, despite Robin almost laughing him out of the building, the thing is Steve is still figuring out his sexuality. He knows he likes girls, he’s always liked girls, but then Robin pointed out that maybe he couldn’t figure out what he wanted because he wasn’t looking in the right place and Steve realized she was right . Sure, Robin had meant more of a ‘ stop going after girls who are traditionally pretty and from well off families and try going out with girls whose company you actually enjoy’ and not a ‘ hey, dudes are kinda hot, too, right? It was real weird how transfixed you seemed to be on Eddie Munsons lips while we were actively fighting demon monsters,’ but Steve has always been good at reading in between the lines. Or, more like inserting what he wants in the gaps of what people leave unsaid.

So, no, Robin did not tell Steve to open his eyes and realize that straight guys don’t exactly think about how another guys lips will look slick with spit, how they’ll feel under the pressure of his thumb, what the sweet satisfaction of them partying so readily under his will feel like, but she did tell him to broaden his horizons and honestly, they were basically the same thing.

Which is why Steve feels like she should be more supportive of his plans to woo Eddie Munson onto his couch—and maybe, if he’s feeling ambitious, eventually into his bed.

“Robin, come on . I’m serious!” Steve will never admit, even under Russian torture again, that he whines it. He’s coming to Robin as a sounding board, not so she can make fun of him. If he wants someone to make fun of his lack of prowess, he would go talk to Dustin. 

Or, yeah on second thought no. He’s not actually sure his ego could take that much of a hit at the moment.

“Sorry, sorry,” she gasps, gripping the—newly rebuilt and polished—family video counter in front of her. “I just—Steve, that’s-that’s so ambitious . You literally just came out to me less than a week ago and you’re already talking about getting with a boy. And Eddie Munson at that.”

Steve scowls at her, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that he knows looks bitchy, but he can’t help it because—

“Don’t say his name like that. He literally almost died to save us all. He’s not fucking dirty .”

Robin immediately sobers, a guilty, but irritated look on her face. “That’s not how I meant it, Steve, and you know it. Don’t get bitchy at me just because you’re feeling sensitive about your feelings for a boy.”

And that’s the crux of it, isn’t it? Steve isn’t really angry at her for laughing—Robin makes fun of him at least 7 times a day, Steve would be more concerned if she didn’t make at least one joke about this—and he isn’t even mad at her for putting a weird emphasis on Eddie’s name. No, he’s all twisted up about his feelings and he’s never been good at expressing them, let alone talking about them. He’s feeling self conscious and his skin is prickling with embarrassment and the easiest thing to do is lash out about it.

“That’s not—“ Steve cuts himself off, looking away from Robin as his shoulders slump. “You’re right,” he mumbles. “Sorry. I just. I wanna fucking kiss him so bad , Rob, and that freaks me out a little.” Steve untucks one of his arms to scrub a hand over his face, leaving the other one tucked around his waist to protect his vulnerable bits.

“Hey,” Robin murmurs, closing the distance between them so she can settle her hands on his shoulders. “I get it. Do you think I acted like a sane person the first time I realized I wanna kiss girls? I think I cried for a week. Kerry the stuffed Koala had to go to therapy because of all of my crying. It was a serious time in the Buckley house.”

Steve smiles behind his hand. He loves her so much. She’s really his best friend. He’s so thankful for her.

“You still cry about kissing girls,” Steve says, rather than admitting any of that. She already knows she’s smart, Steve doesn’t need to add any more to her ego. It just gives her more brain to bully him with.

He drops the hand covering his face to look at her. “Only now it’s more of a,” Steve puts on a high pitched, whiny voice, “‘why do I have to go to work when I could be spending all day making out with my girlfriend.’” He brings both of his hands up to clasp in front of his chest, batting his eyelashes at her in a fake-coy way.

Robin shoves at him, catches him off guard and he goes stumbling backwards into the counter, laughing the whole way. 

“Shut up , you absolute dickhead, ” she all but screeches, reaching out to give his chest another shove for good measure. “You literally have no room to talk considering you started this shift by announcing your intentions to, quite literally, crawl into Eddie’s lap and kiss him stupid . That’s almost verbatim what you said, Steve.”

Steve’s still chuckling as he rights his position a little, leaning back against the counter more comfortably. “Yeah, I did say that.” He sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth before he continues with, “I really, really wanna sit on his lap and kiss him until he can’t focus, Rob.”

Robin rolls her eyes, but it’s more fond than annoyed. Steve can tell—he’s been on the receiving end of about 90 percent of Robin’s eye rolls, he’s getting good at distinguishing the emotions behind each one.

“I still can’t believe you have a crush on Eddie Munson of all people. He’s so weird ,” She laughs, but Steve can tell that that, too, is fond. Robin and Eddie have a weird friendship. They geek out over obscure instruments and the nuance of tacky movies together. Steve doesn’t get it, but he enjoys watching how expressive both of them can be. He once watched Eddie climb onto a table while arguing with Robin about one of their movies. Robin followed him up shortly after, though, so Steve isn’t sure why she thinks the weird is limited to Eddie.

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, and he’s man enough to admit that it sounds dreamy . God, he’s pathetic over Eddie. It scares the shit out of him. “You know, the other day he gave me a rock. It wasn’t even, like, a cool rock. It was literally just a rock. When I asked him why he just shrugged and was like ‘I dunno, it made me think of you.’”

Robin’s grin grows. “Oh my God. What did you do with the rock?”

Steve shoots her a disgruntled look. “What do you think I did with the rock? I put in my pocket and then brought it home and set it on my nightstand. Eddie gave it to me, I wasn’t just going to throw it on the ground again. That’s rude.”

Robin absolutely cackles at this, there’s no other way to describe it. She’s awash in glee as she claps her hands together a few times. “ Jesus , Steve. You’ve got it so bad for this man.”

“God,” Steve mutters, running a hand over his face again. “That’s not even the worst part, Rob. He like. He grabs his utensils with his whole fist when he eats. It’s so weird, and it’s so messy . It makes fuck all sense. He doesn't even grab a pencil that way. Just his fucking eating utensils . 

“And he walks so chaotic. He just randomly breaks into a sprint. Just starts fucking running out of nowhere. And he bounces. As if the random running wasn’t enough, he just fucking starts jumping. Sometimes he jumps at me, and it’s all I can do to actually catch him before he eats dirt. Or- or he’ll just. Spin. Just twirl in the middle of the sidewalk while still carrying on a conversation.” Steve slumps, his back getting slightly scraped against the counter as he sinks to his butt.

“The man has zero regard for personal space and he always makes way too intense of eye contact. Sometimes he’ll use one of his character voices in the middle of an otherwise totally normal conversation, and he’s always climbing on things. He’s loud and he’s weird and I wanna wrap my fingers around the collar of his shirt, shove him against a wall and then shove my tongue down his throat , jesus christ. ” Steve buries his face in his knees, his mind playing an endless loop of Eddie smiling with those stupid lips that are always cherry red and raw from his constant gnawing. Steve wants to bite them for him.

“Oh, my God, Steve.” Robing sinks down to sit across from him. “This is pathetic . I, like, knew you had a crush on Eddie but this is like. Dangerous territory. Like, the next step might be the L word level territory.”

Steve makes a small squeaking noise, his face still buried in his knees. Robin’s words hint at something that Steve is so not ready to admit to himself yet. She’s hitting way too close to something Steve has been avoiding actively and vehemently since he realized the attraction he feels for boys is decidedly not of the straight variety.

For a moment, neither of them say anything. Then, like the angel she so clearly is, Robin says, “So, wanna tell me about operation ‘crawl into Eddie’s lap and makeout with him?’”

Steve laughs, the tightness in his chest slowly easing. He lifts his head, and then spills his guts.

***

The plan starts simply. First, he needs to get Eddie alone . No annoying tagalongs to potentially interrupt.

It’s easier said than done. For two days straight, Steve asks Eddie to hang out and, somehow, one of the kids manages to weasel into their plans.

It’s driving Steve nuts.  

He casually asks Eddie to watch a movie, give him a proper education like him and Robin are always going on about, and Dustin overhears and invites himself.

He asks Eddie to go for a walk, makes an excuse about it being gorgeous outside while he plots ways for the walk to end right outside his house, isn’t that neat, but Lucas and Max overhear and suddenly it’s a group affair.

He asks Eddie to get milkshakes, plans to lure him back to his house with the promise of complete control of Steve’s record player, but El overhears and asks if she can tag along and Steve just can’t look into her big, earnest eyes and tell her no. He’s not a monster.

So they get milkshakes with El, and it’s fun . Of course it’s fun, but Steve is getting desperate . It’s been a little over a week since he hatched his mad plan with Robin and he’s about to start climbing the walls with anticipation.

It doesn’t help that Eddie has a mother fucking oral fixation. At every opportunity he’s either putting stuff in his mouth or chewing on something. It’s fucking rude, is what it is. It’s like he doesn’t even realize Steve is suffering.

It all finally comes to a head a full week and four days after his conversation with Robin on the floor of Family Video. He’s stopping by Eddie’s house to grab something Dustin left behind because Dustin asked and he’s nice . It’s maybe also because it’s a great excuse to see Eddie, but Dustin sure as shit doesn’t need to know that that’s the sole reason Steve said he will.

Eddie is slightly bent over, riffling through his Dungeons and Dorks stuff, and Steve is trying so hard to pretend like he’s not entirely focusing on his ass and the line of exposed skin above his belt. If Eddie turns around right now, he’s busted for sure.

Eddie’s just mentioned some kind of dragon when he lets out a triumphant noise, his story coming to an abrupt halt as he spins on his heel to face Steve.

“Aha!” He exclaims, thrusting a notebook in Steve's direction. 

Steve automatically reaches out to take it, his fingers brushing over the backs of Eddie’s in the switch over. Eddie bites his bottom lip at the contact, avoiding Steve’s gaze, and suddenly all Steve is thinking about is his mouth.

Steve debates with himself for a moment. This isn’t really how he planned to seduce his way into Eddie Munson’s lap, but he’s adaptable. If the years of almost apocalypses have taught Steve anything, it’s that sometimes you have to make do with what you have.

And what Steve has is an empty trailer save the two of them, and a couch less than ten feet away. He’s got the object of his affections standing in front of him, and Steve decides to adapt.

He wets his own lips, stepping towards Eddie. His hand is still holding Eddie’s hostage over the notebook.

“Thanks, Eddie,” Steve murmurs, ducking his head so he can look up through his lashes.

Steve watches Eddie’s breath catch, watches him stutter over his next sentence.

“Y-yeah,” he breathes out, his eyes flicking between Steve’s eyes and his mouth at a rapid speed. “Of c-course. I mean, it happens. Kids forget things. I’m sure Dustin just wanted to, like, go over the last session's notes for anything he missed.”

“Of course,” Steve agrees, taking another step into Eddie’s space. He’s aware that he’s primarily staring at Eddie’s lips, which is probably rude, but he can’t help it. They’re wet and shiny and Steve has been thinking about them an obsessive amount for the last week and a half.

“We’re, um, I-I mean they’re going against a red dragon,” Eddie continues. Steve’s aware of this. It’s what Eddie had been telling him when he’d found the notebook. “They’re very powerful, almost impossible to defeat.”

“Are they?” Steve’s only half following the conversation, but that’s not saying much. He has a hard time keeping up with the DnD talk on a regular day.

“Oh yeah,” Eddie says, and then he’s off. He starts spitting words so fast Steve wouldn’t be able to keep up even if he were paying complete attention.

“Eddie,” Steve says, but Eddie is still talking, still mumbling along about the red dragon.

“Eddie,” Steve tries again, but it’s like he’s shouting in an empty room. He knows Eddie knows he’s talking to him, can tell by how wide Eddie’s eyes are, how he’s not even trying to not slur his rapidfire words together. If Eddie was talking about dragons for the hell of it, he’d be gesticulating and probably climbing on things. As it were, he’s got his gaze fixed on Steve, eyes comically wide as his words rush together—barely getting one out before the next slew rush into it in a truly amusing word traffic jam.

Eddie’s nervous , and fuck if that doesn’t thrill Steve to his core. Steve takes the final step towards him to completely close the distance and—

Eddie takes a step back, his words stuttering along with Steve’s heart in his chest. He wasn’t expecting that, wasn’t expecting Eddie to back away from him so quickly. Steve has half a second to be hurt, to mentally kick himself because get a fucking clue , Harrington, before he catches Eddie’s eyes darting down to his lips, his tongue unconsciously swiping along his lower lip before his gaze skitters back up to Steve’s.

And, oh, yeah , Steve has him exactly where he wants him. Eddie isn’t stepping back because he doesn’t want Steve. No, he’s stepping back because he’s prey . Steve is stalking towards him with a single minded focus and Eddie is skittering backwards like a scared rabbit—bouncing back step by step as Steve approaches until his back collides with the wall. That, finally, seems to knock all their air out of Eddie. The dragon conversation dies on his lips as Steve finally—fucking finally —closes the remaining distance between them. He reaches out, cupping Eddie's cheek in one hand, his jaw in the other, all while pressing up against Eddie from hip to chest.

“ Eddie, ” Steve murmurs, his eyes hooding. This time, Steve feels Eddie’s breath catch, feels the way a tremor works its way through Eddie’s body. He’s staring up at Steve with wide, wild eyes. He looks like a deer caught in a trap—ready to break his leg trying to get away if he needs to.

Steve isn’t sure why that makes him feel a little wild, but it does.

He stretches his thumb out to swipe across Eddie's bottom lip—already bitten and red from Eddie’s nervous chewing. God , it drives Steve crazy . He has a half-hysterical thought about offering his own up for Eddie to chew on when he’s nervous. Eddie makes him crazy .

Steve licks at his own lips as he watches the way his thumb catches and drags and the swollen skin of Eddie’s bottom lip. Eddie’s trembling in earnest now, and Steve feels his pulse thundering in his ears. He wants to kiss Eddie so bad his fucking toes are curling with the anticipation.

He flicks his gaze up, away from Eddie’s lips up to his eyes and he has to fight back a groan. Eddie looks fucking wrecked and Steve hasn’t even kissed him yet. His eyes are wide and wild, his pupils blown and there’s a scarlet flush in his cheeks. He’s fucking panting against Steve’s face and he can’t take it any more. He really, really can’t. He has to kiss him—screw anticipation, screw driving Eddie past the brink. He needs and he needs now.

“ Eddie, ” Steve practically gasps . “Eddie, please.” Steve squeezes his eyes shut as his body unconsciously rocks forward, seeking even more of Eddie out. “Wanna kiss you so bad, please say I can, please—”

And before Steve can get another plea out, Eddie’s slamming his head forward with enough force to knock their teeth together in an uncomfortable clack ; enough force that their noses knock together in a painful way.

But Steve doesn't care . He doesn’t care because Eddie’s lips are on his and he feels like there’s liquid fire coursing through his veins. He feels lit up from the inside out as Eddie finally, finally touches him back. He fists a hand in the back of Steve’s shirt, the other winding through Steve’s hair and fuck it’s finally happening. After night upon night of imagining what kissing Eddie Munson would be like, Steve’s finally doing it.

And goddamn is he doing it. Eddie’s lips are slick against his, hot and encouraging . They slide together in a way that has Steve’s mind going blissfully blank, his only thoughts being hotwetyesmore.  

He kisses him messy, lips moving together in a too fast pace that neither of them can keep track of; bruising force in the way their lips slide, spit sliping from their parted lips in a slow trickle that has Steve’s fingers curling against Eddie’s jaw.

He uses that hand to tilt Eddie’s head up slightly, angling it enough that Steve can get his bottom lip between his own and suck slightly. The first slid of Eddie’s lip between Steve’s own has him seeing fucking stars . 

A punched out groan breaks free from Eddie’s throat and he rocks forward into Steve, seeking more . The hand in the middle of his back pulls and Steve is helpless to do anything but push Eddie more firmly into the wall. He knows it has to hurt, has to be restricting Eddie’s breathing with how tightly they’re pressed together, but he can’t take enough focus away from Eddie’s mouth to care . Plus, if Eddie minds that much he wouldn’t be pulling Steve closer .

Eddie breathes a wet gasp into Steve’s mouth when he takes his teeth to the lip still tucked between his own, and Steve can’t help but let out a gasp of his own. Eddie tastes fucking phenomenal. He can taste the lingering tobacco on his tongue, the salty tang of the popcorn he must have had earlier, and just the overwhelming taste of Eddie. Hot, sweet, fucking sublime. Steve‘s never been a particularly religious man, but he feels like he’s drinking heaven straight from Eddie’s mouth. With every gasp, every moan, every brush of Eddie’s tongue, he feels one step closer to absolution. It’s addicting .

God , he wants more. He wants Eddie’s hands all over him, on bare skin. He wants those deft musicians fingers to snake into his hair, tug a bit. He wants Eddie over him and under him and—

He stills suddenly, a thought occurring to him. The line that had triggered this whole thing—his announcement to Robin back in Family Video—and suddenly there’s a burning need in Steve’s gut. God, he needs to sit in Eddie’s lap right now. Needs to feel his strong thighs under him, needs Eddie’s hands on his ass and his tongue in his mouth.

“ Fuck, ” Steve bites out when he pulls back. Tearing his mouth away from Eddie’s is so much harder than it has any right to be.

Eddie’s staring at Steve with glassy eyes, his lips shiny and red and oh fuck even his chin is glistening with their spit. Steve wants to devour him.

“Go sit on the couch,” Steve says, and is pleasantly surprised that his voice only sounds a little rough, a little shaky.

“What?” Eddie croaks out, staring at Steve for a beat. Then, miracle of miracles, he does it. He stares at Steve the whole time, the glassy look getting a little clearer, and Steve thinks that simply will not do.

The minute Eddie is seated, Steve’s crawling his way into his lap. He wedges his knees into the crease at the back of the couch, shuffling as far forward as he can so their chests are pressing together, their clothed crotches aligning. Then, without giving Eddie a chance to adjust, he drops down, pressing the full weight of his ass into Eddie’s thighs and, by proximity, his dick.

“ Jesus Christ ,” Eddie swears, his hands shooting out to grab at Steve’s ass on instinct. Steve almost giggles . It’s exactly what he wants.

“You can just call me Steve,” he mutters, and before Eddie can reply, he’s sweeping in and claiming Eddie’s lips again. Eddie huffs against his mouth, but let’s Steve have the last word. Steve’s glad because he has plans .

Plans that start with Steve winding those thick curls around his fingers as he slides his lips against Eddie’s. Eddie pushes his head back into Steve’s hands like a cat, and it makes Steve smile into their kiss, which makes Eddie smile into the kiss. It’s like a domino effect—once Steve feels Eddie’s smile against his, he starts giggling like a schoolgirl. He can’t help it, this feels unreal in the best possible way.

Then Eddie’s off, giggling back into Steve’s mouth. They’re both just sitting there giggling at each other, eyes squinted and happy . God, Steve feels euphoric in this moment, perched in Eddie’s lap like it’s his throne, with Eddie’s hands on his ass.

Eddie pulls back after a moment, when their smiles are too wide to actually kiss. He brings a hand up to gently brush a strand of hair away from Steve’s eyes, tucking the long lock behind his ear before putting his hand back on Steve’s ass. 

“You’re unbelievable, Steve Harrington,” Eddie whispers, eyes so full of affection that Steve feels his insides turn to mush. He squirms in Eddie’s laps, ducking his head to mouth at Eddie’s neck because if he stares into his eyes any longer he’s going to do something stupid . Stupid like admit that he’s pretty fucking sure he’s in love with Eddie, has been since he gave him that dumb rock for no decernable reason other than he wanted to, because he was thinking of Steve.

Steve tongues at the tendon in Eddie’s neck that’s stretched taunt, rubs his nose along his jaw and up to the hollow under his ear. Eddie laughs, tilting his head sideways to give Steve easier access.

“Oh, now you’re gonna be shy? After you practically pounced on me earli—”

Eddie’s words cut off in a choked groan as Steve bites, hard , at the tendon he was just showing attention to.

“ Steve, ” Eddie gasps, but Steve doesn’t let him do any other talking. No, he’s not going to let Eddie derail him again. So, he dives back for Eddie’s mouth, licking into it, not slowing down and not giving Eddie a chance to catch up. He smooths his tongue alongside Eddie’s, lets Eddie push back against it with his own for a millisecond, before he’s switching tactics—licking behind the top row of Eddie’s teeth, sliding his tongue over Eddie’s bottom lip. 

Eddie squeezes his ass at the sudden onslaught, and Steve can’t help the small jerk his body gives at that. He grinds down, a gasp trapped in the humid air between them as sharp waves of pleasure shoot up his spine. He’s trapped in between Eddie’s lips and his hands and he feels like he’s high with it.

He’s enjoying himself so much.

He slides his tongue along Eddie’s again, enjoys the way it's slightly rough and gloriously slick against his own. Enjoys the way it makes his pulse thrum a little faster, his fingers grip a little tighter where they’re fisted in Eddie’s hair—the way it makes Eddie squeeze a little tighter, which makes Steve grind down a little harder.

Steve feels the evidence of Eddie’s interest, has been feeling it, and knows Eddie has to be aware of Steve’s own. And Steve’s fantasized about Eddie’s lips for so long that he’s tried to keep it to just that—tried to focus on the heady drag of lips on lips—but it’s hard to ignore the way Steve’s own hips are twisting down, seeking as much of Eddie as possible. Hard to ignore the way Eddie has his own feet planted on the floor, meeting Steve’s hips with firm thrusts of his own.

They’re sharing humid air and sharp gasps, their lips swollen and honestly sore . Steve’s lips ache in the best way he’s ever felt, and Steve doesn’t want to stop. Wants to sit right here on Eddie’s strong thighs, wants to feel Eddie’s teeth nipping at the too sensitive skin of his mouth, wants to kiss Eddie for the rest of his life .

They kiss and kiss and kiss, and Steve has never just kissed someone like this. He’s never kissed just to feel, kissed just for the pleasure of it with no expectations for what’s to follow. He feels intoxicated. He’s utterly, wholly blissed out on Eddie Munson’s mouth and he never wants it to end.

They kiss for so long that Steve has honestly started to lose feeling in his lips. It’s weird feeling them so sore, so numb. But they are, so he slowly, so slowly pulls back. Leaning down for a few lingering pecks as he puts a little distance between their mouths.

Eddie’s mouth is bright red, spit slick and so tempting. Steve watches with fascination as a single string of spit connects their lips, stretching until he’s put enough distance between them that it breaks.

Steve bites his lip on a moan, thinks that’s one of the hottest things he’s ever seen.

He meets Eddie’s gaze. His eyes are wild, pupils blown out. His hair is an absolute disaster from the way Steve’s been running his fingers through it, and his cheeks are flushed so prettily. Steve can’t resist sneaking one more kiss in, lingering around afterwards to rub their noses together.

“Hi,” Steve finally murmurs and fuck, is that his voice? Jesus, he sounds wrecked.

“Hi,” Eddie says back, his smile verging on loopy. “Did you know that some corvids can understand physics?”

Steve stares at him for a beat, a little stunned and a lot confused by the abrupt topic switch. Eddie stares back, a look on his face that Steve can only take for regret, his already pink face is turning positively crimson. 

It’s dead quiet for a moment, then Steve bursts into laughter. His chest absolutely swells with affection, with, fuck it, love. God damn , he can’t deny it any longer. The love he feels for this boy sitting under him is overwhelming at the best of times, and it feels like it’s just bursting out of him at this moment. He’s coming apart at the seams with his feelings for Eddie, and he’s done trying to pretend that they’re anything but that.

“Oh my God, ” Eddie mutters, bringing his hands up to hide his face. It’s so endearing. Steve is endeared. “Sorry, fuck. I don’t know why I just said that.”

“Jesus Christ, dude.” Steve’s still grinning down at Eddie, moving his hands to clasp around Eddie’s wrists, trying to pry his hands away. He never wants to not be looking at Eddie. He’s so fucking weird and Steve likes him so much. “I like you so fucking much .”

Eddie lets Steve pull his hands away, and he…there’s no other word for it, Eddie just absolutely lights up. It’s like Steve’s staring directly at the sun. Eddie is beaming up at him, his smile so wide that his eyes are basically closed. He has laugh lines, and Steve is already obsessed with them, already thinking of ways to make Eddie smile this wide, this radiant all the time.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks.

“Oh, yeah,” Steve confirms. “Just ask Robin. I’ve been whining about it for weeks .”

Eddie laughs again, his grin not dimming in the slightest, and Steve just has to taste it—has to get his mouth around Eddie’s happiness. So, he swoops back in, feels Eddie’s laughter transfer to him via their connected mouths, feels a piece of himself that’s long been looking for a home finally slot into place.

[lilybug-02]

To lose one’s faith… is to lose one’s ability to see in the dark….

[dykedvonte]

Benny would be thrilled by Nick Valentine. Like I know the concept of synths and replacing people would initially shock him but I don’t think for long.

He’s not a technology guy by any means but he certainly appreciates it and understands what it can do. He’d be pro-synth and synths at people for purely pragmatic reason at first but seeing some noir detective would have him thinking of all the ways he could improve on his plan if he had that tech for Yes-Man.

If Yes-Man could pass as human he’d have no reason to hide him and could even have him buddy up with the rest of the Chairmen! Even if he’s found out and House wants him and especially synth Yes-Man out their is a loyalty to them that is only made stronger that Yes-Man looks like them now. It’s also such a complex thing for Yes-Man too now to struggle with “humanity” in a new context and his teacher tragic being Benny Fucking Gecko.

[tastesousweet]

slushy noobz mentioned ???? 😭😭😭😭😭😭

[sunnyd666]

Uzi meets Cyn in some robo-soul shenanigans idk.

Uzi is hobbling through an endless void where she finds Cyn hunched over on the floor. It sounds like she's crying. Uzi would be on guard but something was telling her that this wasn't the trap she'd assume it to be. She takes a deep breath and approaches her, eventually her disposition softens realizing what she's really seeing. Uzi kneels down in front of Cyn and takes the little drones hands in her own. They lock eyes and it's made clear: This is just a worker who's trapped in her own body. Alone, afraid, and powerless to stop the Solver who's used her body and likeness to do terrible things. Uzi understands what feeling alone and powerless is like, she understands what Cyn is going through. She gently pulls Cyn into a hug and holds her tight. Cyn slowly returns the hug, her whimpering growing quiet. Uzi slowly shuts her eyes in the warmth of Cyns hug.

Then Uzi wakes. She's in Ns arms and everything hurts. N smiles at the sight of her growing conscious she smiles back.

Whether that tender encounter was real real or not is up in the air but she knows an unspoken message was exchanged between Cyn and Uzi: "Everything's gonna be okay."

[chibipandaao3]

Babe and Charlie’s reunion

I know a lot of people have advocated domestic violence… oh wait, you don’t think Babe beating Charlie is DV oh… okay…. *scowls in sarcasm*

Anyway, I know a lot of people want Babe to be exceedingly angry at Charlie, and to not forgive him for what he’s done. But that reaction would go against Babe’s character.

Charlie has become literally and figuratively everything for Babe.

Unconditional support, unconditional love, a person who never stopped trying to care for Babe regardless of how Babe treated him.

Because remember, Babe was an asshole early on to Charlie. Getting jealous without asking questions. Accusing him without asking questions. Saying means things, being harsh. (And yes, this was mostly Way’s influence).

Yet regardless of that, Charlie stayed. Because Charlie’s only (internal and personal) purpose in life is to protect and care for Babe.

Now Babe might not like that. He might not like how willing Charlie is to sacrifice himself. He might want it to be more balanced or more nuanced, but regardless, Charlie’s only purpose is to protect and care for Babe.

And Babe knows this - he knows how he’s treated Charlie - he knows that he overreacted just before the accident.

And Babe regrets it. He regrets how he acted and the things he said, he regretted them the moment the accident happened. And worse, he’s lived in that regret for at least a couple weeks.

For Babe any anger he might feel towards Charlie, will easily going to be overshadowed by the sheer feelings of gratefulness, wonder, disbelief, affection, and hope. he is not going to care much about the event and solely focus on having Charlie back and Charlie’s safety.

I think that’s why in the preview we saw him protect Charlie three times - in like 15-30, he protected Charlie multiple times in that clip.

Babe is not the same person he was before Charlie’s accident. The person he is now, recognizes how fleeting life is, and how important Charlie is to him. He is going to live the rest of his life, making sure Charlie knows that. And it’s going to start the second they are reunited.

[cottoncandytomu]

Cat and Mouse~

Abby Anderson x F!Reader

Summary: You were a well known womanizer in the WLF but that’s not gonna stop you from trying to get with the one woman you wanted the most, Abby Anderson. And god was she making it difficult~

As always my content is 18+ SO MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

(You’re a desperate slut with the hots for Abby, a persistent fucker at that. No smut in this one just lewd themes. Light cursing, lots of alluding to “the chase” of her. Lets say you’re definitely not a quitter 🥴🥴)

New! Dark! Abby Anderson x F!Reader

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Oh come on Abs~, my reputation isn’t even that bad.” You say leaning back against the wall.

Abby looks up at you from her seat, “Yeah? That’s not what I heard around the stadium. You’ve basically slept with about half the women in here alone.”

“Me?” You place a hand on your chest, “Now babe I’m offended, c’mon those are Manny numbers not me.”

“You make Manny’s reputation look like light work.” Abby chuckles, shaking her head as she goes back to reading her book.

You scratch your neck, “Damn I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment or be insulted.”

Abby scoffs, “However you feel is the best but I’d say the latter.”

You push yourself off the wall and walk over to her, sitting down next to her your leg brushes hers, resting against one another. You expect her to but she doesn’t move, which didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Yeah yeah whatever but you can’t deny that I’m not experienced.” You smirk.

“Unbelievable….”

“So, ya gonna let me show you how someone should actually take care of you.” You wiggle your eyebrows slightly, taking in your bottom lip.

She looks over at you and grins, “Only in your dreams buttercup.” She then closes her book and stands up, your eyes following her movements.

“Dreams are better than nothing.” You lean back placing your arms behind your head.

Abby shakes her head and dismisses you with her hand as she walks out of the empty library leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Damn does she know how to fuck with you, you almost think it’s intentional at this point. She knows how much you want her, fuck you’ve wanted her ever since you laid your eyes on her. Her tall build yet the delicate grace about her had you entranced at first glance.

You should’ve known that she wouldn’t make it easy for you. At this point just about every single one of the wolves knew you had the hots for her, you didn’t really make it discreet. Manny would constantly make fun of you for it too but you’d get him back by making fun of him for not being able to please the women he was with better than you. They’ve told you so, what could you say you know your way around a woman. You just wish that woman was Abby.

People would talk, their favorite was calling you pathetic and slightly insane. Going after one of WLF’s best soldiers was a long shot but you didn’t care, you needed her, soon enough she’ll come around to realize how much you’re worth it. Yeah, you may be a player now but for her you’d definitely drop it all in a heartbeat. She was strong and powerful but also kind and sweet in her own element. It made her, her. And that’s what you loved about her so much, she’s such a balance of what you respect and cherish. Plus, she’s very good on the eyes.

Sometimes you’d think she was fucking with you on purpose, that deep down she wanted you just as much as you wanted her. It was a feeling, plus there’d be times where she’d willingly play right back into your antics, fueling it even. You weren’t dumb, you’ve seen the way her eyes would follow you after you walked into the cafeteria to grab your food, watch how they raked over your body as you did your sets in the shared gym.

When you two would be on the same patrol, compliments would be shared for you, which was a rare thing from her to you. Her eyes would gloss over when you would hit that perfect shot on a clicker, a quick nice shot falling from her lips. There was even a time where you caught her checking out your ass, now that took a bit of convincing to yourself but you know what you saw. You couldn’t help the grin either when you watched her blush filled stuttering mess after catching her in the act. She would never admit to it of course, just changing the subject and talking about where to head to next.

She was undeniably perfect in every way and you needed, no craved that perfection. You knew it, she knew it, hell all the fucking wolves knew it too. You were desperate, for good reason, and you didn’t care. It was a game of cat and mouse and you loved a good chase~

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

AHHHH DESPERATE READER ALERT!! You down bad fuckers~ (me too tho 😮‍💨😮‍💨)

I probably maybe might be making this into a very short mini series, depends on how much you beauties like it. BUT I hope you all enjoyed and as always constructive criticism is welcome. If you haven’t yet check out my other drabble here. Thank you all for taking the time out of your life to read my work, it’s always appreciated!! And let me know what you guys think, hehe~ BAIIII

=^.^= ~

[frozenfeathers-00]

because everyone was freaking out that Navigating made the Forest Fic canon.

i read it.

and i don’t know how to react.

[maudiemoods]

I think younger me would be proud and horrified by what I've become

[keykittygirl]

Does key liked to get head pats in her kitten form

...

Like it?

No...

She LOVES it! :D

She'll purr and nuzzled her head into your hands if you ever dare to try to pat her head when she's in her kitten form.

So save yourself...

From her cuteness!

As you will having a hard time to stop from spoiling her with affection!

And also she's easier to be approached when she's in this form :3

And also it's Keya not Key okay ^^

[seaweedstarshine]

Hi! Long time no yap but I've been really bothered by this thing and I know you're just the person I can go to with this (even if we don't always end up agreeing at times).

I got into a tiff with someone in a comments section of a post that was about Amy (Which character do you think deserved to become a villain? or something similar). They brought up Amy's abuse of her boyfriend. I may have tried to defend Amy (key word is tried. I am officially rubbish at debating) but then I may have said something? Because they said that I (and apparently a lot of other fans) was excusing Amy's abuse because of her trauma. It got me stumped because isn't young Amy's treatment of Rory rooted in her trauma? Did I miss the memo where we separate trauma and abuse? Am I missing something?

That statement bothered me a lot because if there's one thing I never want to do it's defend an abuser. So here I am, humbly asking and hoping to clear the muddy waters.

Your really confused and disturbed moot, Tia 💌

TIA!!!!! Thanks for the ask 💌 , and I send you all the hugs.

Discussion of abuse, trauma, ableism, infidelity, and unhealthy relationship dynamics beneath the cut.

(First off… while I really appreciate your faith in my explaining skills <3 <3 <3 my passion for traumatized characters and mentally ill+neurodivergent rights doesn't make me especially qualified to fully clear muddy waters especially not knowing the full context, but I feel you, and what follows is my informed perspective!)

Speaking generally first, harm done in media is best examined by the impact on the audience, with a different lens than harm done to real people. While relatable experiences in media can be useful and validating and incredibly important, you can’t be “defending an abuser” when the abuse is fictional. It's actually normal for traumatized/ND/mentally ill people to project onto mentally ill villains, when villains are the only significant representation for those stigmatized symptoms in a media landscape that excludes and demonizes us simply for existing. RTD can't stop people who hallucinate from reclaiming the Master's Drums and projecting onto the Master, for example — 90% of the best Doctor Who psychosis fic by psychotic authors is about the Master, whether RTD likes it or not. It's not true crime.

(This is speaking generally. Amy Pond is very much not the Master.)

Abuse is a behavior, and there can be many reasons for it, but reasons based in trauma don’t make it not abuse (some forms of generational trauma can propagate abusive parenting styles, when the parent thinks abusive parenting is normal, or lives entirely vicariously through their child). This absolutely should not be taken to mean trauma correlates with abusive behavior; rather that abusive behaviors from traumatized people are more likely to present in specific ways.

Abuse is also a targeted behavior, based in control — not consistently displayed C-PTSD symptoms as seen in Season 5 Amy Pond through many aspects of her life. Mental health symptoms don't become abuse just because they hinder one partner from meeting the other partner's needs. Any life event can do that.

Without knowing the context of the arguments, this is the aspect of their relationship I've seen you talk about before (which I also feel strongly about), and what I assume is what you were debating? So, here I will talk specifically in regard to Season 5.

We all know Amy — she's never attached to Leadworth because she never wanted to leave Scotland, no steady therapist because none of them stick up for her, can't stick with one job yet her first choice is a job that simulates intimacy because her avoidant behavior (a known trauma response) isn't sustainable to her wellbeing. Rory knows her fears of commitment stem from her repeated abandonments, it’s why he’ll always wait for her, and it's why he blames the Doctor “You make it so they don't want to let you down.”, who apart from having caused a lot of her trauma, has actively taken advantage of her being the “Scottish girl in the English village” who's “still got that accent,” because he wants to feel important, so yeah, I think interpreting Amy's issues (and how Amy and Rory transverse them) as Amy abusing Rory indicates a fundamental misunderstanding of their relationship, as well as a misunderstanding of the (raggedy) Doctor’s role in Amy’s formative self-image (which of course she works through in Season 6, but I am sticking to Season 5).

Abuse is always based in control. That just doesn’t fit here. While Amy's detachment from her real life includes things like calling Rory her “kind of boyfriend” (which she is upfront about to his face; differing commitment levels isn't abuse, though it can be a relationship red flag for both parties IRL) — her Season 5 disregard of Rory’s feelings occurs only in response to the fairytale embodiment of her trauma. It's never a response to Rory; it's a response to the Doctor, who stole her childhood and led her by the hand to her death. She cheats on Rory with the Doctor in her bedroom full of Doctor toys, drawings, models, she made from childhood to early adulthood.

(And yes, like many repeatedly-traumatized people, Amy is prone to being sensitive and reactive. Take her “Well, shut up then!” line in The Big Bang; but given Rory responds to this by hugging her, clearly he doesn’t take it as her actually dismissing him. He knows her better than that.)

And by no means do I meant to imply this is fair to young Rory, poor Rory, who's left struggling with the feeling that his role in her life is in competition with the role of her trauma (aka the Doctor). But not every unhealthy relationship dynamic is unhealthy because of abuse. Labelling Amy's treatment of Rory in Season 5 more accurately isn't the same as excusing her harmful choices — but making mistakes is part of being human, Amy's mistakes are certainly understandable, and she works through them out of love for Rory.

If there's one thing to say about Moffat women, it's that Moffat allows his female characters the same grace that the male characters *coughTENcough* have always had, to hurt and struggle and make realistic mistakes and overcome those mistakes and to heal without being demonized.

Amy isn't perfect, but she is a fully realized character, and her story gives us a resonant depiction of childhood trauma.

[piggiebonez]

gaz would lock herself up in her room sit down in front of the puter and watch avgn vids for 10 hours straight without blinking glued to her epic comically oversized gamerchair NO movement at all.

dib watches one old as fuck nostalgia critic vid lets out a dorky laugh "heh that was fun...bat credit card!" gaz bursts in to his fucking room grabs his throat starts shaking. dibs face gets red sweat pouring from his forehead one big vein bulges out tears in his eyes he cant even say anything just these wheezy grunts come out. gaz has bloodshot eyes she just stares at dibs face. many such cases!

Z*ADRS DNI. WATER IN YOUR LUNGS

[notepadsandtealeaves]

Dick Grayson x F!Reader in: The Penalty Round

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT || 18+ ONLY ||

|| GN!Reader | M!Reader | Ao3 Version ||

|| Dick’s Tag | Batboys M.list | Batboys Tag | Personal Blog ||

|| The SFW prequel: The Curious Case of the Lovers in the Library || || F!Reader (Ao3) || GN!Reader (Ao3) || ((some links pending))

↠ Requested By: The ~heaux~ in me ↠ Reader Gender: Female ↠ Content Type: NSFW af ((make no mistakes, I will 100% fight a kid if I see them on this post)) ↠ CWs/TWs: There’s nothing too out there, but still make sure to peep the in story note for the deets. ↠ If you’re looking for a beta-ed work you have come to the wrong place, my friend lol. ↠ Total WC: 3k~

“‘And the loser will be completely at the mercy of the winner.’ Those were your exact words, baby, don’t you remember?” His eyes are bright with an impish sort of glee as he pulls back to take in your replying expression—the needy glint in your gaze, the alluring way your lip sits trapped between the pearl of your teeth, the ragged breaths that leave your chest heaving… “Oh yes, that is definitely a look,” he comments, a harsh exhale punctuating his words. “And a damn good one too…” You could certainly say the same about him. His amusement has been slowly draining away as he continues to regard you until all that is left behind his something darker, hungrier…

↠ Who says you can’t win for losing?

This brief bit of spiciness with my second favorite Bat is brought to you by The Thirst™ lol. I’m trying to get back into the swing of things, so if this is just “meh”/anything seems off blame that…

|| The Penalty Round

💦 Tags: Reader uses she/her pronouns | Reader has female anatomy | Pre-established relationship | Dick’s waistline being problematic | ((said problem is that my legs are not currently wrapped around it #madaboutit)) | ((why is it like that, if not for us to grab, huh? HUH??!)) | A v. brief mention of cum eating (Reader) | Oral (Reader giving) that leads into throat fucking (kinda rough, but not too much) | OP’s Dick’s praise kink is showing | Which means there’s lots of pet names (good girl, baby, honey, etc.; Reader receiving) | Reader gets that good oral-handy combo | Unprotected sex (remember to be safe IRL, so on and so forth) | Vaginal sex (more specifically a mating press, Reader receiving) | Knowing me there’re probably some v. light dom/sub undertones | ((that wasn’t necessarily my intent, but it is kinda my brand lmao)) | And finally a bit of afterglow‘n’cuddles before falling asleep in Dick’s arms because that is the Good Shit™

“Ready to settle up, love?”

The question is posed over the muted sound of Dick depositing you onto his bed. His preference for a softer, cushier mattress doesn’t allow for you to bounce, but rather you sink into its plushness with a giggle. Any answer you might have given is lost under another peal of mirth as he follows you down with a laugh of his own. Long limbs cage you in as he settles the perfect amount of weight onto you and the feeling grounds you even as the drag of his lips over your pulse point has you arching into his touch. Kisses tease themselves up the length of your neck and across the breadth of your face; he’s thorough, covering every spot readily available to him while simultaneously avoiding the pout of your lips. It doesn’t take long for you to voice your displeasure, but your breathy whines are only met with a playful chide.

“‘And the loser will be completely at the mercy of the winner.’ Those were your exact words, baby, don’t you remember?”

His eyes are bright with an impish sort of glee as he pulls back to take in your replying expression—the needy glint in your gaze, the alluring way your lip sits trapped between the pearl of your teeth, the ragged breaths that leave your chest heaving…

“Oh yes, that is definitely a look,” he comments, a harsh exhale punctuating his words. “And a damn good one too…”

You could certainly say the same about him. His amusement has been slowly draining away as he continues to regard you until all that is left behind his something darker, hungrier. The weight of his want has lidded a gaze that is more pupil than iris, with the vivid blue having been ceded ground like a freshly eclipsed sun. Altogether it’s a look that says he’s more than ready to devour you whole and with the way he’s got you feeling right now you’re beyond down. He knows this, of course, and it definitely shows. A smirk slowly creeps its way across the plush of his mouth as he rises up to his knees.

“But if you’re that eager to do something with those pretty lips of yours, well…”—his thumb drags across your bottom lip with a deliberate slowness, reveling in the slight bounce it gives when his touch moves to trail down your chin—“I guess I’ll just have to put them to work then.”

He reaches back to gather a fistful of his shirt before pulling it up and over his head. Though the movement is tantalizing in and of itself (the way his arms and stomach flex as he shrugs out of the clingy material has to be illegal, at least in a few states) what it leads to is undeniably better. You whimper at the sight of him—the sleek, but powerful musculature, its broadness tapering out into a taught waist that just begs to be held on to, be that under the curve of eager palms or trapped between equally willing thighs.

His hands are purposeful as they ghost their way over his frame, from the soft whorls of hair that cover his chest and beyond. The short, downy soft strands’ raven hue contrasts beautifully with the natural tan of his skin enticing your eyes to follow the trail down to the sharp V-cut of muscle and further still to the joggers that sit sinfully low on his hips. It’s here that his hands linger, just for a moment, just long enough to make you squirm with impatience. His fingers dance along the band a few times before he finally, finally hooks his thumbs in and pushes the material down. The move isn’t nearly as smooth as everything that has preceded it, can’t be when his ass is that damn fat, but at this point you’re too gone to care.

With that final barrier gone his cock sits proudly on display, curved deliciously and bobbing under its own weight. Your mouth goes dry as you take in the dark flush of it, the way precum pearls against its tip before spilling over into a trail that your tongue is desperate to follow. He’s already so hard and yet he somehow manages to get even harder as he takes himself in hand and begins to stroke. The play of his pretty fingers over his equally pretty dick is mesmerizing, so much so that you don’t even realize he’s moved until the tip is nearly touching your lips. Without any cognizant thought on your part your tongue darts out to catch his still dripping arousal before retreating back into your mouth so that you can properly savor your prize; as always the taste leaves you groaning and greedy for more, your lids fluttering as you swallow thickly. The needy (and thoroughly debauched) display has Dick chuckling darkly.

“Such a good, eager girl,” he coos as his free hand caresses your cheek.

He doesn’t even have to tell you to open up, not when your lips have already parted as wide as they can go, your tongue lolling out in anticipation. The sight leaves him cursing hotly under his breath as he guides his length into your waiting warmth. You both moan at that first contact, though the vibration of your pleasured mewl sees Dick’s devolving into a gritted out hiss; at the same time his hips stutter but he’s able to stop himself before he gags you. This kindness isn’t extended for much longer, however, as he’s quick to set up a pace that’s just this side of brutal.

With every forward push his cock goes that little bit further until he’s fully fucking your throat. The sound of your moan laced gags can just be heard over your man’s near continuous stream of curses and praise. Though the angle makes things a bit more perilous you brace yourself and let Dick take what he needs, what you’re all too willing to give.

“Look at the way you swallow me down,” he pants in a voice that sounds just as wrecked as you feel, “my good, perfect girl. So, so good, always so good…”

It’s clear that both of your brains have fuzzed over—his from the pleasure that has him damn near shuddering above you, and you from his very apparent approval. You work your tongue along the underside of his cock as much as you can wanting, needing, to make him feel even better, to draw more of those sweet words out of him which you most certainly do. The pair of you are trapped in this feedback loop of lust for only a few minutes more before Dick is pulling out fully with a half-choked growl. You only have enough time to take one lung filling breath before his lips are crashing into your own. The kiss is a raw, feral thing full of tongue and teeth and a desperation that has you tearing at one another’s clothes.

Once your bottoms are gone an impatient hand makes its way to your center and Dick lets out a breathy little curse at the sheer amount of wetness that greets him. “All this just from sucking cock, babe?” he asks on a chuckle as he coats his fingers in your slick, their pads tracing teasing circles around your entrance before sliding up to your clit. The jolt of pleasure that courses through you reduces your reply to a reedy cry of his name that trails off into a hiccuping moan, a thing that clearly suits your man just fine.

“I was ready to fuck you into the mattress,” he continues on in a tone far too casual, all things considered, “but hearing you sing so pretty for me makes me want to play with you a bit more, so I think I will…”

The fingers that had been working your pearl over so perfectly close around it in a pinch that has you arching sharply off of the bed with a hiss. The movement is cut short, however, by him once again settling himself over you. Though he starts with his head tucked in against the crook of your neck, the vigilante has always been a restless one. It doesn’t take long for him to cut a trail of hot, opened mouth kisses down the length of your body until he’s at level with your dripping pussy. A dreamy sounding sigh of “So pretty~” is all the warning you get before he’s diving in like a man starved.

You shudder at the feeling of his tongue dragging itself over your already sodden flesh, Dick’s name a ragged cry on your lips as your fingers curl in against his hair. He likewise shivers at the bite of your nails against his scalp, humming his approval all the while before pulling away just long enough to tell you—promise you—that he’s going to make you lose your mind. And he’s as good as his word. He doesn’t let up, his tongue laving and twirling against you in shifting patterns that leave your head spinning and your legs shaking. His hands are just as busy as one keeps your hip anchored while its opposite works in tandem with his talented mouth.

“You sound so. Fucking. Cute.” The declaration is made some long moments later when his need for oxygen finally outweighs his greed for your cunt. His voice is absolutely wrecked with his desire, though you can barely focus on the rasp of it when he’s punctuating those last few words with suckling nips against your thighs.

You whimper out his name in reply only for the appellation to scale up into an opened mouth gasp when he takes advantage of the mess he’s created between your legs to easily slip a finger into your tight hole. A second soon follows the first before he purposefully curls them against that spot. You jolt up against him as pleasure skitters across your body like lightning. Moans claw their way out of your throat as you grind shamelessly up into him, your arms winding around him somewhat awkwardly in an attempt to pull him impossibly closer.

“Mmm~ I think she likes that,” he chuckles darkly as he continues to massage your walls. “That’s right honey, keep rocking those hips for me—need to work you open, get you ready to take me…”

You’re too far gone to fully comprehend what he’s saying, with your mind only really being able to focus on the sinuous purr of it all. Lust has deepened his voice into something specifically designed to leave you fully under his spell, and enthralled as you are there’s no perceiving anything outside of you and him and the pleasure that’s drawing closer with each pump of those ridiculously long fingers. You rut against him with a desperation that would be embarrassing if Dick wasn’t just as gone. He doesn’t have it in him to tease you right now, not when he feeds on your pleasure and you’re so close to the edge. He murmurs your name before pulling away from you to watch you chase your bliss with a ravenous intent. His gaze darts over the length of you in an attempt to drink in every little detail as words that blur the line between praise and pleas are panted down at you. His movements grow more pointed as yours become more frantic, the crescendo building up-up-up until–

“Oh fuck babe. That’s right—give it to me.”

A sound that’s caught somewhere between a moan and a sob squeaks out of you as your body tenses before going lax under the weight of your release, but that’s hardly the end of things.

“Fuck,” Dick growls lowly, his body slinking down further still so that he can hook your legs over his shoulders. When he comes back up to level his eyes are consumed with want as he grinds himself against you. “____, baby, do you have any idea how goddamn delicious you look right now?”

You try to reply, you swear you do, but between the orgasmic haze that hasn’t even begun to fade and the feeling of his cock pressing hot and heavy against you, well… You figure you can be forgiven for whatever the fuck it is that actually comes out of your mouth—not that it would’ve been audible anyway when your man’s tongue is so tangled up with your own. He sucks down your mewls of pleasure only to feed you his own as he reaches down to take himself in hand. His cock, hot and sticky with your combined arousal, slaps against your pussy a few times in rapid succession before he pushes finally, finally pushes into you.

Dick finds his rhythm quickly, settling on something hard and fast enough to have jostled your body forwards with each thrust had his bulk not been there to hold you steady. There’s a certain frantic energy to the way he fucks you—as if he needs to be inside you like he needs his next breath, as if the few seconds he has to leave you on the backstroke are too long to bear. It makes the encounter desperate in a way that that you usually only ever experience when he’s had too close of a call on patrol. You feed off of this, into it, clawing at whatever bit of him you can reach though pinned as you are all you can really do is lie there and take it–

Well until a particularly good downwards thrust leaves his dick brushing up against your sweet spot. Your reaction is instantaneous, your walls clamping down on him with a vice-like grip that nearly sees him collapsing. His mouth parts around a moan that has you clenching up all over again as he catches himself on shaky arms just moments shy of crushing you.

“Fu-fuck… Fuck! That’s– It’s too damn good, babe. I-I’m already so close—you keep doing that and I’m not gonna last…”

There’s barely a sliver of sapphire to be found when he looks you over with wide, lust-blown eyes; said eyes cross just a bit when you bare down again, and when combined with the flush that sits high on his cheeks and the loose loll of his mouth he’s just one drool trail away from something straight out of the most obscene manga panels. The sight would’ve left you laughing if it weren’t for the way he rolls his hips into you in a deep grind.

You sigh his name as you urge him closer to you. From here you can feel the way his lips part under his pants, your breaths mingling as you tell him, beg him, to fall apart for you—“Please baby, want it. Want you to fill me up…”

“Yuh-yeah,” he starts, nodding wildly. “Yeah, I can do tha– Ah, shit! So fuckin’ tight… God, fuck—kiss me.”

He doesn’t give you time to comply, his lips already moving to crash into yours within the same breath. The kiss is sloppy and short lived, however, with Dick pulling away a few moments later to moan out your name as he redoubles his efforts. His strokes come fast and choppy as they lose their rhythm with each passing stroke until he’s abruptly stilling over your with a punched out sounding sigh and a shiver. The feeling of his release pouring into you is enough to push you over the cliff after him, his name on your lips as you give yourself over to ecstasy’s free fall.

The pair of your work your way through your orgasms with heaving chests, and in your case limbs that feel like jelly. As the euphoria begins to fade the mood easily slips over into something softer and more subdued. Dick, clearly still lost to his pleasure noses at your cheeks, pillow soft lips pressing sweet, lovesick nothings into the flushed skin there in between peppered kisses. The heart achingly tender display leaves your chest squeezing in the best of ways, and while you’d love nothing more than to bask in the afterglow of his affections for a long while yet your current positioning isn’t exactly the ideal setup in which to do so.

Your displeased little whine is all the hint your man needs and within the same moment your legs are being gently lowered onto the mattress. He flops onto his back right after, arching into a dramatic bow of a stretch—the sound that escapes him as he does so certainly makes you Feel Things, but you’re not trying to start something your already fucked out body most definitely cannot finish—before moving to curl himself around you. Insistent hands work to soothe away any aches you feel, starting with your hips, though he soon decides this can best be achieved by cradling you against his chest. Having been put through your paces you’re essentially dead weight, but that’s never been a hindrance before. Just one of the many perks of dating a man that moonlights as a vigilante, you muse with a silent laugh as he moves and settles you with ease.

You sigh contentedly as you allow yourself to sink more fully into his warmth, with any lingering tension that your muscles insist on trying to hold on to melting away under his care. Sleep has already started to blur the edges of your world, with the haze steadily creeping in to dull all of your senses until you fade out in full. You don’t register the slight shifting of your body or the soft glide of sheets that follows. The feeling of Dick pressing one last, lingering kiss against your temple is likewise a distant sensation, though his words are just able to slip underneath the fog–

“I love you, baby—always.”

–and that five word declaration, spoken with all the gravity of an indisputable truth, is the last thing you hear before you give yourself over the land of dreams.

© notepadsandtealeaves/TheViperQueen, 2023 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

[theshireisburningg]

[rated E]

Eddie is so in the zone playing his video game that he doesn’t pay much attention to Steve padding around the room, only vaguely registering the tape being switched out and a Television song starting to play. He smashes at the keys and hums along to the music quietly, not taking his eyes off the screen. That is until Steve is standing in front of him momentarily blocking his view, dropping to his knees before Eddie can protest.

Eddie stills immediately, eyes rapidly bouncing between the TV and Steve, who is quietly reaching out to undo Eddie's belt.

“What are you…”

“Shh…” Steve whispers, fingers working to unzip Eddie's jeans, tugging on the corners in a silent demand.

“I uh-“ Eddie freezes to watch Steve, fumbling with the controller when he leans in, breathe hot though Eddie’s boxers.

“I can’t really pause this level but if you just wait like- two minutes I can give you my full attention.” Eddie is rambling, eyes trained on Steve and fingers hitting buttons off of muscle memory.

“It’s okay,” Steve mumbles, patting Eddie's hip with another pull to the denim.

“Seriously like- two minutes. I promised Henderson I would have this level beat and-" Steve cuts him off (probably for the best).

“Keep playing.” His eyes raise slightly to meet Eddie’s, and then with a grimace, he tacks on, “and don't mention Henderson again.”

Fuck. Eddie lifts his hips off the bed, enough for Steve to tug his jeans and boxers down in one motion and let them pool around his ankles.

Eddie half-heartedly glances at the screen and tries his best to do what Steve asks, but just as he starts to get some semblance of focus back, Steve takes Eddie into his mouth.

It’s… fucking torture. Eddie almost drops the controller on Steve twice because he’s doing some shit with his tongue, making it impossible for Eddie to stay still.

He doesn’t think he’s ever done this and not had his hands buried in Steve’s hair. He’s usually in control, setting the pace because that's how Steve likes it, but the roles are reversed today, and Steve seems set on killing him.

“That’s- fuck, Steve.”

It's clear to Eddie now that Steve is putting on a show, which doesn’t seem fair considering he pulls off every time Eddie tries to just put the fucking controller down. He’s making obscene, overly enthusiastic noises, letting his spit drip down his fist, the slick sound loud even over the music.

Steve pulls off but keeps up the pace with his hand as he catches his breath.

“Did you beat it yet?”

Eddie looks down, see's Steve lips bright red and shiny, and immediately needs to look away.

“What- no. You actually expect me to be able to focus on this shit?” As if on queue, the telltale womp-womp of Mario walking straight off the cliff echoes around the room.

“You better if you wanna come.” And with that, he dives back in.

Eddie can only be so strong when Steve is suctioning his cheeks and picking of the pace of his hand, doing a twisting motion that has Eddie spiraling. He makes it about thirty more seconds before he’s cursing again.

“Gonna- Steve m’ gonna come I can't..”

Steve doesn't pull off, just looks up at Eddie through his lashes- and shit that's a sight of its own. He slows down to a torturing pace at Eddie’s words, shaking his head slightly, a silent wait.

With the sheer fucking nerd power of the part of Eddie that spends an embarrassing amount of time playing video games, he's able to concentrate enough to win, doesn’t even let the screen change before he's tossing the controller aside, winding his hands through Steve's hair as he shifts, raises his hips for more.

He’s on the edge and Steve can tell, moans around Eddie’s dick, let's the vibration be felt.

“Steve, Steve, shit-"

He sees fucking stars when he comes, has never been so keyed up from not being able to touch Steve in his life. He falls back against the sheets immediately, trying to remember how to fucking breathe as his heart pounds in his chest.

Steve stands with a smirk, wiping his chin off with the back of his hand.

“What… the fuck was that. Jesus Christ.”

Steve shrugs, “Just wanted to try something.” He turns to the TV then, surveys the screen.

“You’re kind of shit at this game.”

Stev cackled at Eddie's i'm going to kill you, and strides out of the room.