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#never asked you anyways

stevebabey · 1 year

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Steve hates to ask this of Eddie.

Really, it’s a last resort sort of thing. Robin’s gone for the week, some trip upstate with her family. And it’s fine, they’re close but Steve’s a big boy. He can handle a week without his best friend.

But, well, it’s just unfortunate for it to creep up on Steve when Robin’s gone. It being… shit, how did Robin explain it? She was so much better at keeping track of all those things than he was, all the terms filed away nicely in her head to be recalled as needed. Steve’s much messier— in his head, in his life.

Touch aversion, that’s what she called it. A by-product of the severe lack of touch in his childhood she had said; not enough hugs, hand holding, the works and now Steve’s grown to find it too strange. Something prickles under his skin, pulls in his gut all the wrong way, when someone’s too touchy-feely with him. Robin’s said it’s normal, and he believes her.

It just makes it harder when this comes by. That completely strange backward want that carves into his chest, creating a chasm that just aches. Suddenly, Steve wants to be touched, needs to be touched — like something behind his ribs is just begging for comfort in the form of touch, any way he can have it. Like some young part of him can still remember the hunger he had for it and it comes back in full force, a tender wound between his lungs.

It doesn’t happen that often — though, it’s more frequent than ever recently — but usually, Robin’s here. She can almost always tell before Steve works up the courage to ask. Twitchy fingers give him away. He hovers closer than normal, shoulders brushing more often.

She always gives him a smile, softer than her usual snark and says, “C’mere, dingus.” and stands on her tip-toes to envelope him in a hug. Steve can’t help but sink into it, gripping her close around the waist for as long as he needs until the hole in his chest feels a step closer to patching up.

Robin also tells him he can have as many hugs as he’d like but Steve is firm with himself; he only needs one, then he’ll be back to fine.

It what’s he needs now. One really fucking good hug. Still, he hates to ask, least of all from Eddie, because, well— okay, Steve has no reason to assume Eddie wouldn’t give him a hug.

He’s seen Eddie’s hugs before. Like everything he does, Eddie puts his everything into it- he hugs Robin til she wheezes, loves to lift Nancy off the ground, and the hug he gives Dustin is sweetest of all, a hand on the back of the littler’s head while he does some strange little sway. Dustin always laughs, playfully shoving him away by the end but Steve knows he loves them, that it helps in more than one way.

Steve is glad that Dustin has someone, besides his Mom of course, who can hug him, because Steve can’t give that to him. Maybe one day, but for now, hugs from Steve are a rarity — few and far in between. Maybe, he thinks, he doesn’t want to ask Eddie specifically because of that niggling feeling that comes up around Eddie, all gooey and soft. A feeling the swings too close to a crush that Steve has no fucking clue what to do about.

So, he hates to ask. Really. On the drive over to Eddie’s, a hangout organised before Steve started to feel the lack of touch creep in, he runs through any other options. Wait til Robin gets back? Steve’s not sure he’ll make it another 4 days. When left alone, it seems to consume him and make everything harder, everything heavier to deal with.

He’s still tossing it when he climbs the steps to Eddie’s trailer. Steve decides that he’ll see how it goes, see if there’s an opening to ask…semi-naturally or something. He’s not gonna spring it on the guy.

Eddie is wonderful company as always, devilish grins and god-awful comments about the film he picked. Steve feeds off it, drinking in the infectious energy. He tries to let it be enough; their shoulders pressed together, Eddie’s knee knocking his when he laughs, the way Eddie leans into his space to whisper even though it’s just them here tonight. Steve wants it to be enough. But even then, he can see the way his hands twitch in his lap, desperate for more.

Steve closes his eyes. Curls his hands up so tightly his nails bite into the skin. He tries to use it to wane off the feeling, the ache that sings out for Eddie beside him and it nearly works. Until—

“Steve? Y’okay?” Eddie’s voice pipes up, making Steve open his eyes in an instant.

“Hm?” Steve hums, hoping that his casualness will be enough for Eddie to skip over his peculiar behaviour. He blinks, tilting his head just a bit to show he was confused why Eddie was asking.

Eddie chuckles lightly, gesturing towards Steve’s lap, where his hands sit still clenched, white knuckled with his self-restraint. “You seem a bit stiff, that’s all.” Eddie rechecks. “You good?”

Steve opens his mouth and then closes it, forcing his hands to unclench in his lap. “I-“ he begins, then stops, unsure of what he was going to say. He did say he would look for an opening tonight. The way Eddie’s regarding him, open faced with his concern, is as good as he might get.

“This might sound a bit weird,” Steve starts, defensiveness already tingeing the words, his shoulders curling in just a bit. Eddie could say no. He’s allowed to say no. Steve really doesn’t want him to. “Like, if you think it’s weird, that’s totally fine and we can just, like, forget I said anything and—”

“Steve.” Eddie cuts him off, a linger of an amused smile on his lips. “I don’t think I’m going to find anything you say weird, sweetheart. Shoot. What’s on your mind? What troubles the great mind of Steve Harrington?”

God, it’s like a whole bunch of words designed to set Steve’s head spinning. ‘The great mind of Steve Harrington’ makes him want to scoff. ‘Sweetheart’ makes him want to swoon. He can’t decide which one he wants to do more.

“Can I-” Steve stammers, the words halting automatically. It’s too much of a habit to swallow them down. Coercing them out takes more work. He stares up at the ceiling as he grits his teeth, releases a harsh sigh, pulling himself together. “Can I… have a hug?”

There a moment of silence and Steve holds his breath.

“Oh,” Eddie breathes, and Steve takes his eyes off the ceiling to see just what that Oh means. Eddie’s smiling, a soft one gracing his pretty mouth, and Steve thinks, maybe, one day he’ll have the courage to ask for a kiss as well. Relief moves sluggishly through his veins— Eddie’s smiling, this is good.

“Well, of course,” Eddie grins widely and opens his arms, inviting Steve in. Steve hesitates for only a moment before he leans in gratefully, his arms tucking around Eddie’s midriff tightly. Eddie’s arms curl around Steve’s neck, pulling him in close. It’s the easiest thing in the world, sinking into it, so much that Steve tries his best not to immediately slump against Eddie. It feels a bit too pathetic, so Steve reels himself in. He can’t make his arms relax, trying too hard to take only what he needs and not a moment more.

“C’mon, Stevie.” Eddie’s voice teases beside his ear, his breath warm. “You call that a hug?”

He squeezes Steve a little tighter, pulling him even closer and Steve can’t help the way he melts into it— he slumps, leaning against Eddie properly and burying his quiet whine of relief into the juncture between Eddie's neck and shoulder.

“There we go,” Eddie murmurs comfortingly.

Eddie takes him wholly, gives a damn good Munson hug, all warmth and comfort. He smells like, well, Eddie — a lingering scent of weed, something musky, something Eddie. His arms around Steve’s neck shuffle and Steve worries he’s trying to pull away so soon, only for one of his hands to tangle in the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck. He combs through, light fingernails scratching at Steve’s scalp and shit, Steve really can’t control the noise of contentment that slips out his throat.

“Can’t believe you got so worked up just to ask for a hug,” Eddie tsks, tone coloured in disbelief. Steve makes a noise of protest, trying for a moment to wind it all back in but, like Eddie can sense it, he’s squeezing him tighter again. He begins to rock them, a soft sway side to side that lets Steve lean on him even more. He hums a tune Steve doesn’t know, low and soft.

“M’sorry,” Steve mumbles in reply, though he’s not entirely sure what he’s apologising for. For having to ask, for taking so much, for enjoying Eddie’s arms around him just a little too much.

“What the fuck for?” Eddie laughs lightly, one of his hands beginning to drum against the divots of Steve’s spin. It feels like he’s tapping pure delirium with each fingertip, shivers that make Steve’s chest glow terribly warm. It feels good, so good to be held and honestly, Steve could stay here all night if Eddie let him. Knowing Eddie, he would, because he’s that fucking nice.

That knowledge alone forces Steve to sit himself up, extracting him limbs even though so much of him mourns the warmth, the touch, that goes with it. He wants the touch but he’s had enough. Some scorned part of him burns bitterly to think Eddie would give him more just to be nice. Steve doesn’t want that— Steve wants Eddie to touch him because he wants to.

“Sorry, man, I just, uh, get like that sometimes.” Steve feels the need to explain, bringing a hand up to rub at one of his eyes. He does it half so can hide his embarrassed expression from Eddie— who’s looking at him so gently and still so so close.

“Just, aha—“ Christ, it wasn’t this awkward telling Robin. Steve’s hand moves to rub the back of his neck. “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile since,” He gnaws on his bottom lip, something alike to humiliation curling in his gut. “Since I’ve had some touch. Usually, Robin’s around but y’know.”

He waves a hand, huffing another awkward laugh. Eddie hasn’t moved much, just listening intently, his brows ever so slightly inching closer together. He looks outright concerned at Steve’s next words.

“It’s okay, I’ve— I’ll be good now.” Steve nods along, like the motion will help him convince himself as well as Eddie. He’ll be okay now. Usually, one hug is all it takes. He ignores the surging tidal-wave want that is still going, still aching to be held by Eddie again. It would be selfish to ask for more. Eddie didn’t invite him around to hug— it’s weird, and Steve shouldn’t- can’t ask for more.

“Sooooo,” Eddie draws out the word, an impish smile beginning to play at the corners of his lips. He opens his arms wide again. “You don’t want another hug?”

In his lap, Steve’s fingers twitch. Eddie’s eyes dart to them for a second, before fixing back on Steve. He does, he really fucking does want another hug. He can’t. He’s had enough, really, it would greedy to have more.

Steve shakes his head, forces himself to huff another laugh that accidentally comes out as a strained sigh. He smiles weakly, “No, no, I’m good, dude. It’s… I’m okay, swear.”

For a moment, Steve thinks he’s convinced him. Eddie studies his face, his mischief slipping away as he deliberates Steve’s words. His eyes narrow, arms dropping just an inch before he smiles brightly and says, “Okay, can I have a hug then?”

Which, okay, right, Steve didn’t think of that. People don’t ask him for hugs. He blinks, a bit dumbly. Eddie is waiting, face eager and for a second there’s an expression of almost smugness on his face — like he’s about to get exactly what he wants. Because he knows Steve would never be rude and say no.

“I mean,” Steve breathes, voice a bit tighter than he’s expecting. He clears his throat. “Yeah, yeah, you can have a hug.”

“Great!” Eddie replies and he wastes no time. He’s all up in Steve’s space, arms around Steve’s waist this time. The motion takes Steve by surprise, enough that because he’s not expecting it Eddie’s weight pushes him back so he’s lying on the couch.

If Eddie cares, he pays no mind, his head curling up into the crook of Steve’s neck as he hugs him closer. His hair gets in Steve’s mouth, making him splutter for a second, but Eddie just grins, wriggling closer until they’re pressed firmly against each other. Steve would go as far as to say this is closer to cuddling than a hug, with Eddie squishing him from above, his arms around Steve’s middle.

“Just so you know,” Eddie’s voice rumbles from where their chests are touching, his breath sweeping across Steve’s neck. Steve shivers without meaning to, feels Eddie’s responding grin even as he continues. “All hugs requested by me are automatically 10 minutes long. Hope you’re okay with that, sweetheart.”

Steve isn’t stupid — he knows Eddie is doing it for him, doing it because he could see right through Steve’s stupid facade, had peered his yawning hunger for touch right in the face and hadn’t blanched. Instead of feeling tricked or fooled, Steve just feels…warm. Comfortable. He works his arms around Eddie’s neck til their more comfortable and find the courage in him scrape his fingers through Eddie’s hair— like he had done to Steve. Eddie’s sighs sweetly and Steve thinks he could listen to that noise forever.

“I’m… I’m okay with that.” Steve murmurs lowly, yet he knows Eddie can hear him. Eddie noses closer, a borderline nuzzle against his neck, and further down, one his hands starts to stroke softly up and down Steve’s ribs.

Steve can’t help the way it makes him freeze, the breath in his lungs holding tight as he tries to relax, tries to ignore the prickly feeling under his skin. It’s a lot. A lot of touch that Steve just isn’t used to just yet, even if he desperately craves it.

“Relax,” Eddie whispers into his skin, a soft instruction paired with the motion, one soothing stroke up and down his ribs. Steve pushes the breath in his lungs out, forces the tension out of his body, trusts that Eddie wouldn’t be offering— wouldn’t tell him to relax if he wasn’t allowed to.

“That’s it.” Eddie praises, feeling the body beneath him settle and sink a little lower into the couch. “Now, watch the movie.” Eddie instructs, jutting at the still playing screen with his chin. Steve laughs a bit, but obeys, turning his head to see what part they’d gotten up to. They’d missed a big chunk in their hug. Steve nearly apologises for it, the words on the tip of his tongue, before he decides Eddie might smack him for it.

So, he doesn’t. He watches the film, let’s the gentle touch of Eddie on his skin relax him til sleepiness starts to fill each of his limbs, heavy like lead. Eddie’s hand stops moving eventually, when his breath gets heavier, lulled by Steve’s scratch in his hair. A snore starts up, loud and quite frankly, annoying, and yet, Steve finds that with Eddie’s arms around him, he has no trouble finding sleep.

It’s the first time in years Steve’s fallen asleep in someone else’s arms. And even if he doesn't know it yet, it’s certainly not the last.

now with a part two!

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introspectivememories · 2 months

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too many of you guys think nico is the loser and not lewis for letting the divorce go on for so long. like they're both losers about each other. emotionally constipated idiots who can't talk about their toxic homoerotic friendship that imploded on itself like 8 years ago and are now making it everyone else's problem. yeah nico's on television or in beer gardens talking about lewis all the time but like every other month some reporter is like "lewis, what's your favorite moment in your career?" and lewis no hesitation is like "oh man, karting, y'know? everything was simpler then" and then spends another six months skirting around nico's name. like this whole thing they're doing in the media isn't some kinda extended foreplay for them. they're both still pressing on the bruise to make sure it's still there!!! every few months, they're literally just asking on public television, does it still hurt for you like it does for me? and like clockwork, someone will release new information about them or one of them will say something about each other (in my heart, he's still my best friend/yes... and teammate) and the answer will remain the same, yes, of course, always.

#lewis is unarguably more famous than nico. like i feel like this a fact. and yet every other day nico is in the press saying some crazy shit #about lewis. if i was famous i woulda shut that shit down soo long ago. my ex-bf is in the press talkin bout me constantly??? that feels #like such bad pr and yet!!! lewis has not done anything. why? cause he likes it!!! cause they've never moved on from the 1st moment they #broke each other's hearts. like this is genuinely insane.#im always so nervous to post my thoughts on brocedes cause so many of you were here b4 me and have a better understanding on them #and like being a wrong is like a death sentence to me but still please tell me if i got them completely wrong #i have a lot of thoughts on lewis and his reluctance to talk about nico... most of them being that one quote from emma #if i loved you less i might be able to talk about it more #ok obligatory disclaimer: a lot of this is hyperbole. i don't think that they're asking lewis that ? every other month #but there are like at least 5 interviews where he talks about karting like they're his most precious memories #so make of that what you will #and obv i don't know these people but as someone who's brain chemistry has been permanently changed by them #i think i'm allowed to not only project onto them but also make stupid little posts analyzing them #anyway yeah #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #brocedes

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saturnsorbits · 3 months

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Sero Hanta, early-twenties, sat in a small room with his pants around his ankles and a small pot in his hand. There’s porn magazines all over the place, something he’s never quite cared for, but he still manages to deposit his sample with the nurse within a break-neck 10 minutes. Blame his youthful exuberance and the fact he hasn’t touched himself for almost two weeks leading up to his appointment, he guesses.

And you, fifteen years later, with your son. A lanky boy who’s too tall for his age, with a mop of black hair and eyes of such a richly, dark brown they’re often mistaken for black.

#Accidental dad Sero is my favourite #You scrape everything you can together to send him to UA;#bc he’s determined to become a hero just like Cellophane.#And yes; you have noticed that your sons quirk is a little similar to his favourite heroes;#but you figure there must be thousands of people with similar quirks.#Something; something - Sero guest lectures at UA and takes your son under his wing -#figuring he’s like a distant cousin or something.#Doesn’t think to ask tho.#Until one day; a heart to heart later… You son laughs; ‘Never needed a dad anyway - me and mum have always done alright.’#Sero braces himself for talk of abuse; abandonment and dead-beat dads #So imagine his surprise when he suddenly realises…#Shit.#Maybe he’s the dead beat here.

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tippenfunkaport · 3 months

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That viral post that's going around about how people who write "book quality" mlm fic are too "normal" to publish and have real jobs so only "weird" people publish their "shitty" fanfic is so completely out of touch with reality and I am giving a massive side eye to everyone reblogging it.

Not only is it completely, easily verifiably untrue (you cannot enter any professional writing space without tripping over a dozen grizzled scifi writers who got their start by filing off the serial numbers and publishing their Star Trek fanfic even going back decades ago??? it's a whole thing?? plus how can you look at the mlm category on Amazon right now and say with a straight face that people aren't publishing shitty Spirk and Stucky fanfic??? Oh, honey...) it's also the perfect example of this kind of sneering elitism that true artists would never sully themselves by seeking profit, they do it only for the purity of the thing that always somehow leads back to, "no one should be paid to make art, actually."

The only reason you're seeing more published fanfic right now has nothing to do with the idealistic purity of your hypothetical government employee written smut of the past vs the debased scribbles of those awful straights of today and everything to do with the fact that a) self-publishing has created a voracious readership that wants a ton of content so it's become a viable, flexible income stream for many, especially disabled people b) anyone can publish now with self-publishing tools so there are less gatekeepers and c) lockdown got a lot of people into fandom and therefore writing who never tried it before.

And if you really think there's no "shitty" published mlm and no "book-quality" m/f writing out there that started as fanfic, then you are clearly not a reader so why are you even talking about this?

#love how they manipulated people into spreading that post by making it seem like a cishet vs gay thing #when the real message is OP thinks trying to sell your writing is cringe and 'weird' and 'normal people' with jobs would never #which would of course never have flown on the fandom website #so they played into the queer shipping is purer than cishet shipping puriteen thing #and it worked!#because my god people are gullible #this is the direct pipeline that leads to AI thievery #''normal' people write for the joy of it anyway so why do you need pay? you are just greedy and 'weird'!'#'oh no this isn't about who we get to call cringe and who gets to profit from art it's about um...#(quick what's a hated m/f ship?).. oh uh 'shitty' REYLO #and not our super pure uh... (spirk is still popular right? lets throw in that avengers one too to make it seem timely) stucky!'#I'm sorry if I have no sense of humor about this but the year is 2024 and people are still way too ready to sneer #about writers trying to earn a fucking living in the shittiest timeline #and i need you to look deep into yourself and ask you why it's so important to you to tell yourself that only people writing what you like #are 'normal' with real jobs and to vilify everyone else as 'weird' and 'shitty'#for trying to make an income during a financial fucking crisis #i would say sorry for ranting about this but I'm not sorry because wtf #write whatever you want #publish whatever you want #there is no moral fucking purity in what the content is #and one thing certainly doesn't make you more 'weird' or 'normal' than the other #like there is soooo much shitty mlm that started as fanfic???#that post is 100% OP made up some guys to get mad about and called them relyos for the clicks #writing #publishing #writblr #writeblr #i wasn't going to tag this anything but you know what fuck it I'm mad #i had like 5 more tags but tumblr cut me off which is fair 😅#fan fiction

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daniel-bruehl · 1 year

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requested by anonymous: SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY GIF HEADERS • 640px : 360px tumblr headers in normal coloring and b/w version • no credit needed, put please consider to like/reblog if you use/save :)

#i know these are incredibly basic but i never made any before and unless i'm asked to do smth special... idk what to do lol #whoever requested them; i hope you like them anyways!#simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost #call of duty #mw2 #gif headers #ghost headers #simon riley headers #ghostedit #simonrileyedit #headers*#request

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carmyboobear · 2 months

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the jaw all white outfit from the sags… so many weddingday!carmy thots…

UGH he looked so good in the all white!! Those pics of him got me thinkin about taking the clothes off of him…although he's putting the clothes on in those imgs… let's just pretend…

Tags: suggestive, wedding night, telling carmy he’s pretty, undressing him

“You looked so handsome today,” you tell him when you're alone. It's the two of you in your bedroom after the wedding, still dressed in your formal attire. His suit remained fairly pristine throughout everything, especially given how you couldn't get your hands off him. To be fair, he wasn't much better in that regard.

“You were more beautiful,” he replies quietly. He pulls you in, hands gentle on your waist. “I still can't believe it.”

“What, that we're married?” You run your hands down the white lapels of his suit.

“Well, that’s one way to put it. I just…still can't believe that I got to marry you.” He's smiling again, like he's been doing all day. “Didn't feel real until I saw you walking down the aisle.”

“Didn't feel real through all the planning?” You tease, and he sighs. The planning was a huge source of stress, even through all the joy that came with it. “I know what you mean, though. Seeing you in this suit, I just…”

“Liked seeing me dressed up, huh?”

“Yes,” you whisper, carefully unbuttoning his jacket. “Couldn't stop thinking about taking it off of you.”

You kiss him on the lips, slow and sweet. He tastes faintly of the wine you both had earlier at dinner. You kiss his cheek, his jaw, and he tilts his head back when you trail your lips down his neck. Your hands gently take his jacket off his shoulders and down his arms.

“You’re so pretty, Carmy,” you continue softly, your fingers unbuttoning his shirt now. He chuckles, likely in equal parts affection and bashfulness. “So, so pretty.”

“You think I’m pretty?” His cheeks are flushed by your praise. You’ve undone the last button, creating a sliver of bare skin down the front of him. You slide your hands under his shirt to gingerly take it off of him.

“Oh my god, yeah. You’re gorgeous. I swear I’ve told you this before, baby.” You’ve slipped his shirt off, and now he stands before you bare chested. You openly rake your eyes over his figure, running your hands over his warm skin. You start at his happy trail, go up his toned stomach, and smooth your thumb over the faded triangle tattoo on his chest.

“You have, I just…” Your thumb runs over his nipple, stiffening it, and he inhales sharply. “I, um, have never been called pretty before…I think.”

“What?” You gasp, aghast. How could you have missed this? Have you really never called him pretty before? “Well, clearly I need to tell you more often. Because you are. You’re my pretty boy, and I get to have you all for myself.”

“Mm, I’m all yours, beautiful,” he murmurs back, pulling you into a soft, sweet kiss. “I love you so much. So, so much.”

“I love you too, Carm,” you say, your chest full of affection. “I’m so happy you’re mine.”

“And I’m so happy that you’re mine.” He surprises you then, sweeping you off your feet and throwing you onto the bed. He’s peppering your face in kisses, and you can’t help your giddy laughter. “Let me show you. Let me show you how much I love you.”

“I like the sound of that,” you reply, somewhat breathless. Carmy just smiles, and he starts taking off your clothes. He’s not gonna take it easy on you tonight.

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #the bear #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #jeremy allen white #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x you #carmy x reader #carmy x you #my asks #I’ve never written wedding stuff before but like… I’m realizing WHY haven’t I?? it’s so good #anyway it’s my birthday today so writing this was like a little treat <3 thanks for the ask!!! hope u enjoy!!’#my blurbs

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