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#and reading other fics lol
violent138 · 2 months
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Tim, looking around the darkened corridor: "You think it's a good idea to be breaking into random places right now?"
Jason said nothing, fumbling in his pockets.
Dick: "You live here, don't you?" Which gets everyone's attention laser-focused.
Jason just cast him a look, getting the door open.
Steph entered first, smacking into something that falls over. "Jeez." She complained, stumbling backward until Cass steadied her by the shoulders. "Sorry, that's my bad."
Duke turned on the lights in one motion, making everyone blink and wince.
"Get off me." Damian snapped, and Dick carefully let him go, letting him limp angrily into a chair. He frowned, scrutinizing the place. "You live here? Why would anyone--"
"Guys." Dick rubbed his eyes over the mask, cutting off Damian and Jason’s sharp answer. "First aid kit?" Dick asked Jason tiredly.
Jason nodded, moving to get it and heard Damian ask "What?" in response to a patented glare he must be getting.
Tim had made a beeline for the kitchen. "Dude, why do you have a singular set of dishes? And why are there just guns in this cabinet?"
Jason scoffed, handing Dick the kit. "Didn't realize I was running a fucking bed and breakfast."
"There's guns in this cabinet too!" Tim shook his head, opening and closing two more. "Oh good, just large knives in this one."
At Tim's raised eyebrows, Jason went into the kitchen and shooed Cass down the counter she was perched on, grabbing the paper plates he kept in a drawer and shoving them into Tim's chest.
Glancing at the way Steph was rubbing her neck, slouched at the table, Jason grabbed two ice packs, sliding one her way and throwing the other to Damian.
Duke, taking a book off Jason's meticulously organized shelf: "Why do you have seven copies of Pride and Prejudice? Did you keep forgetting you bought it, or--?"
Jason, storming over to put the book back. "Stop."
Dick looked up from the wound he was stitching. "Are they different at at all?"
"Are they in different languages?" Steph asked.
"Did you barter them for food? Because your fridge is fucking empty." Tim reported.
Jason groaned, realizing that they weren't going to drop it. "One has a different introduction and one is the zombies version. And yes, the rest are the same, now could you all stop touching stuff?"
"Why do you have five copies of the same book?"
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fiendishartist2 · 7 months
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guy who doesnt dance x guy who will drag you onto the dance floor
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giantkillerjack · 10 months
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Me: hm, I want something to put on the TV as background noise... Huh. Looks like YouTube is recommending something called The Last Unicorn. That's perfect, it's probably some old shitty animation that has aged poorly! I can watch it ironically!
Me, 2 hours later as the credits roll: *crying, cheering, buying the book, composing the songs*
Me, 2 weeks later: So I have compiled all of the quotes from the book that I think could make good tattoos, and also, HOW HAVE I NEVER LEARNED ABOUT HOW THE LAST UNICORN FUCKING SLAPS??? This gay-ass little fairytale fed my soul! Watered my crops! Transed my gender! Can't believe I heard of this story from youtube recommendations, of all places!!
#original#the last unicorn#tlu#peter s beagle#molly gru#schmendrick#schmendrick the magician#two of my favorite characters in anything right there in the center of the story! and I'm glad I saw the film first!#my reading ability has diminished due to trauma disability etc. but it seems like having a visual reference actually really helped!#no wonder i only ever want to read fan fic! turns out reading is not actually Superior to other types of Storytelling. it's just different.#to say otherwise is snobbishness I have been eminently guilty of in my life!#but like it is easier for me to consume tv and movies and that is fine actually. also that's why I'm doing a graphic novel lol#because i wanted to make something i would actually be able to read if i found it at a library. altho the audio book IS gonna be bomb#the audiobook is for visually impaired readers and anyone who wants or needs it! accessible stories for everyone! yeah!!#my gender was already transed but now I've gained an ADDITIONAL gender! which one? I'll never tell 😘#i am so powerful i have so much fuckin gender. my wife has no gender. and she is equally as powerful.#and also she has STUDIED THE BLADE#mostly zoro's blades from One Piece#normally YouTube recommends me shit movies like idiocracy or smth this is like if every day ur cat brought you a piece of rotten food and#then one day it brings you a BEAUTIFULLY ANIMATED TALE FEATURING MY BELOVED TWINK FUCK-UP WIZARD FRIEND AND MY ALL-TIME HOMEGIRL MOLLY GRU#and also it's soft and beautiful and funny and fucking weird!! i wrote melodies to the songs in the books on my ukulele
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sadisthetic · 6 months
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limewire virus
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daiwild · 4 months
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Fanart for a snippet of chapter 4 from @whowillprayforyou 's fic Won't you pray for me?
AHHH GAY PEOPLE!!!! AHH GAY TENSION!! 👹
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fellshish · 7 months
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Best writing advice i ever read was you should make a list of all the things that realllly tickle your interest that get your blood flowing that make you excited, and then think of a story that will combine those elements and that will automatically be a story you’ll love writing
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beescake · 5 months
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Sorry for the spam (^o^;) I just really like your blog
no need to apologize ayy!
in this corner we welcome all forms of enjoyment, regardless of whether you're a
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happy to have yall here w me,
headin into homestuck 2024 :^)
#was debating if sollux truly was lurker type but then i rmbr'd him quietly reading all of karkat's memos for a good laugh HAHAHAHAAH#ask#aleemie#homestuck#karkat vantas#sollux captor#solkat#2024#vioart#but o. regarding the etiquette learned frm other socmed#spamming here is safe+good! it does not harm the op by shadowbanning like instagram#and its not 💀 like twitter where ur likes/following are permanently set to public#ur tumblr experience is within ur control it can be as free/empty/curated as u want!!#((tho ofc i do encourage rbing for ppl who've been hoping to start that habit!!#s'cool to slowly work ur way up from the extra special posts that hv lingered longest in ur heart and quietly build ur cache trove :-)#for example back when i was struggling to rt on a new twt acc i just started setting nonsense criteria for myself LOL#like “breaking this void is scary holy fuck ok i shall start by rting posts w brownish/reddish clrs bcs its inspo vibes for my art”#and gradually after a while of deliberate sharing i gained more confidence to share a larger variety of posts that make me feel things!!!!#no more training wheels i may be scared but i love loving more!!!!#same goes for engaging w fics too it takes energy to think of how to comment and thats ok‚ do ur best to explore what works for u!!!!#take screenshots of ur fave paragraphs & start annotating in gallery/notes app if that helps!!!!#also tumblr's customizable queue means u can stack posts and bolt hgehehe. my preferred form of existing on the net))
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ahhrenata · 1 year
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thinking about steddie time travel fix-its and s1 steve.
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luxaofhesperides · 6 months
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Surprise husbands + "How are you real?" ; requested by @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff!
They may not have planned to get married, or even wanted it all too much at the beginning, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t going to treat each other right. It was rough going, with both of them coming out of relationships and having secret identities, but time had softened the hurt feelings and allowed them to actually get to know each other.
And Danny, Duke has discovered, is a really good husband. 
Neither of them ever saw themselves as married at 20, but sometimes life throws horrible curses at you and the embodiment of balance and life and death swoops in to save your life. Via marriage. 
His life is weird, okay? Duke has made his peace with it.
The thing is, if they had met naturally and started off as friends, Duke could see himself falling for Danny and asking him to marry him in a far off future. Instead, they’re doing everything backwards: married, then going on dates to know each other, and finally feeling close enough to be friends. 
It helps that Danny does his best to communicate and that helps Duke find the words he needs as well. 
He’s sweet, too, so kind and doting and affectionate. Like a really lovable cat, honestly. Duke’s never been cuddled so much in his life and he’s loving every minute of it. 
He… might be falling in love with his husband. What a revelation.
“Duke?” 
He blinks, looking up from his half-empty plate, pulled out of his thoughts suddenly. Tim and Dick stare at him, concerned, and he realizes he’s missed the entire conversation because he was so preoccupied thinking about Danny. In his defense, it was their one year anniversary the night before and Danny had kissed him for the first time after a date night spent playing video games and talking shit about their respective rogues. 
Tim snaps a finger in front of his face, and Duke startles. He got distracted by his Danny Thoughts again.
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“You okay? You’ve been out of it all day,” Dick says, clearly concerned.
“Oh, uh, yeah, it’s all good. Just… adjusting.”
“To what? Did something happen?”
Duke shrugs, scooping up another forkful of pasta to shove in his mouth. “Yeah, I… this is going to sound kind of stupid, but I think I’m in love with my husband.”
Tim, taking an ill-timed drink, chokes and spits out his Zesti. Dick springs back, trying to get out of the spray zone but doesn’t move far, shocked still by Duke’s words.
“Oh, yeah,” Duke realizes, “I didn’t tell you guys, did I?”
“You’re married?!” Tim shrieks as Dick clutches at his chest, eyes wide.
“You didn’t tell me?” Dick asks, offended.
“Seriously? That’s what you focus on?”
Duke smiles as they begin to bicker. They do it constantly, but this time it’s halfhearted, as if they’re just going through the motions of something familiar to distract themselves from the bomb he’s dropped on them.
In all fairness, Duke did forget that he didn’t tell them that he’s married to Danny. He’s also only mentioned Danny once or twice and heavily implied that Danny was just a classmate at GCU. And then forgot that he didn’t tell them, assuming that they’d figure it out eventually being Batman trained detectives, after all.
Well. 
Oops.
Clearly that is not the case. Duke hurries to finish his pasta before Tim and Dick finish their joint freak out and get their senses back together enough to interrogate him. He can’t escape it, but he refuses to have this discussion with an empty stomach. 
He just barely manages to scrape the last mouthful off the plate when his fork is being yanked out of his hands. Tim and Dick close in on him, standing to either side of him, trapping him in place, and look at him with knife-sharp smiles.
Here we go, Duke thinks tiredly, and resigns himself to clearing up this misunderstanding.
Somehow, he manages to explain the situation (I got cursed, he saved my life, we ended up married because magic is bullshit, he treats me so well) and Tim and Dick both agree to not hunt down Danny to show him the wrath of older brothers on one condition: Danny has to join them for a family dinner.
“Don’t worry, we’ll catch everyone up on your… situation,” Dick says, pulling on his jacket to head out. Tim is already on his phone, no doubt telling someone already. 
“Great,” Duke says, unenthused. “You’ll also be answering all the questions because I’m not in the mood. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to figure out a day that works for all of us, and then I’m going to kick my husband’s ass in Mario Cart.”
He walks out the door, grinning as he hears them scramble after him, then twists the ring on his finger (not a wedding ring, but a magic portal making gift) and steps into the portal. It closes quietly behind him, leaving him in Danny’s lair, a comfortable, spacious house with high ceilings and little bits of his personality scattered about. There are soft rugs with geometric patterns on them, star maps on the wall, stained glass windows that throw colors across the floor, and a giant couch and pillow pit in the living room.
Danny’s asleep in it, curled up and looking completely at peace. Duke toes off his shoes and carefully makes his way over, footsteps silent so he doesn’t wake him up, all plans of Mario Cart fading away instantly.
Danny doesn’t get much sleep, with the stress of school and an internship and ghost fights to worry about. It’s why his lair is so quiet and comfortable; it’s what he needs, and he doesn’t let anyone else in without invitation, rare as it is.
Duke is allowed to waltz right in thanks to the ring Danny gave him. It never stops making him feel overwhelmed by how much trust Danny puts in him to allow him unlimited access to what is his only true sanctuary, letting his lair be a place of safety and respite for Duke as well. 
He crawls into the pillow pit, There’s no way to do this without waking Danny up since he can’t fly, so he isn’t surprised to see Danny blink his eyes open, still looking soft and content. He smiles when he sees Duke, reaching a hand out to him that Duke gladly takes, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss his palm.
Sitting up, Danny tilts his head up in a silent request. Duke happily obliges, still reeling over the fact that he’s allowed to do this! He can kiss his husband whenever he wants! 
Yeah, he’s going to be riding that high for a while.
“Hey,” Danny murmurs, sleepy and quietly pleased to see him.
“Hi honey,” Duke returns fondly, “Have a nice nap?”
Danny nods, leaning into Duke and closing his eyes again. “Mhm. How long are you staying? I wanna cuddle.”
“I got nothing going on today. I’m all yours, baby.”
“C’mon,” Danny tries to tug him down. Duke goes slowly, covering Danny’s body with his own, but holds himself with one hand before he blankets his husband completely.
“Wait. There’s something we need to talk about.”
Immediately, the sleepy haze is fading from Danny’s eyes, leaving him alert. “What’s up? Is something wrong?”
“Not really? You know how we agreed to keep our marriage a secret until we weren’t in danger anymore and all those cultists and sorcerers were taken care of?”
“...Yes?”
“Well.” Duke sucks in a breath and offers a bashful smile. “Guess who forgot to tell people we were married after that whole mess was dealt with?”
The nervousness clears from Danny’s gaze as he stares up at Duke with incredulous amusement. “No. No way.”
“Yeah. Kinda dropped a bomb on them and they started freaking out over me being married. Anyways, they want you to come to dinner?”
“When?”
Duke leans back, sitting on his heels. “Let me check.” He pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to the group chat asking for a day they could have a family meal to meet his husband.
His phone is bombarded with texts and calls immediately until Barbara, bless her entire soul, forcibly mutes all of them and puts in a poll with a few dates, setting the poll to close in 24 hours.
“Okay, well, they’re deciding now, but probably soon.”
Danny nods. “Alright. I know these aren’t normal circumstances at all, but I’m so excited to meet the Bats.”
“You do not mean that after hearing all my stories about them.”
“No, I do!” Danny laughs, surging up to wrap his arms around Duke and pull him back down to lay among the giant pillows with him. “They sound nice!”
“The Bats sound nice?!” Duke repeats in horror. “Did you hit your head?”
“They do sound nice! You talk about them so fondly, and yeah they have problems and are dysfunctional, but they’re heroes. Of course they have problems. Even with all their baggage, they’re kind. And you clearly love them, so I do too.”
It’s hard to resist the urge to hug Danny tight enough to make him squeak while peppering his face with kisses, so Duke doesn’t. He just goes and does it, because he’s allowed to shower his husband (!) with affection (!!!) as much as he pleases.
“How are you real?” he says against the corner of Danny’s lips. “How are you so perfect! To me specifically! Honey, if we weren’t already married, I’d be going down on one knee right now.”
“I mean, you still can. We never got a proper wedding either. Think if we offer them a chance to help plan our wedding, they’ll forgive us for secretly being married for so long?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Duke says. He’s already giddy, just imagining what their wedding will look like, what song they’ll play for their first dance, where they’ll have the ceremony… He should create a Pinterest account to start putting ideas together. 
Later, though. He wants to woo Danny properly and take him on so many dates.
Dates which include dinner with the Waynes and Wayne-adjacents, apparently.
“You sure you’re okay with meeting them over dinner?” he asks, just to be sure. He knows how intense they can be, even when pretending to be normal civilians. It took him years to get used to them, himself, and he doesn’t want to push Danny into doing something he’s not ready to do.
Danny cups Duke’s face in his hands and gives him a quick, reassuring kiss. “I’m sure. If nothing else, it’ll be fun to see how long it takes for them to realize I’m not fully human.”
“I really am glad it’s you.”
“Yeah, me too. I’d choose you all over again if given the choice.”
“Took the words right out of my mouth,” Duke laughs, wrapping an arm around Danny’s waist.
“Can we nap now? Now that you’re here and holding me, it’s taking everything I’ve got to stay awake.”
“Yeah, we can nap now.” Duke settles into the pillows, Danny cradled in his arms and closes his eyes to bask in the quiet easiness of it all. 
He really couldn’t ask for a better husband, unexpected as he was. The others will see that too, once they meet him. It’s impossible to not love Danny once you meet him; Duke knows this all too well.
He loves his husband.
And his husband loves him back.
Duke is fully prepared to keep making that choice for the rest of his life.
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avasillva · 1 year
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me, reading 100k+ word fanfics for fandoms i’m barely even in: self-care 😌
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zmediaoutlet · 3 months
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Hey Liz! Have you ready any good spn fic lately? :)
I have, and in fact I've been spite-reading. Have a curated wincest rec list you could share with anyone you like:
Bad Blood by astolat
Rating: E Word Count: 3,718 Summary: "Fuck me or I'm going to die isn't the world's best pickup line."  // "I've heard worse," Dean said. // "You've used worse," Sam said.
Original post date, 02/22/2007
Reccing because: No wincest primer would be complete without an astolat rec. You probably get fined by the Wincest FCC, otherwise. The flaw in astolat’s wincest, if we’re allowed to say such things about our saint and founder, is that Sam and Dean would sometimes fall into the whole thing super easily — this fic dispenses with that problem with a good ol’ classic dose of evil sex pollen, and if magic makes them do it then it could be a hell of a lot worse than how delightfully they do it here. I’m laughing out loud just remembering one of the scenes. Joys.
Coast On Through by philalethia
Rating: NC-17 Word Count: 7,857 Summary: A post-first-time fic. With a lot of sex.
Original post date, 12/22/2007
Reccing because: This is a true all-timer wincest fic. Though the characterization is of its 2007 time, the Winchesters still feel like themselves, and more important feel like adults who are trying to navigate their very odd circumstances. A real classic of the brothers-with-benefits genre.
Keep Our Minds on the Sum of Each Other by lazy_daze
Rating: E Word Count: 9,593 Summary: N/A; provided tags are Bodyswap
Original post date, 12/26/2007
Reccing because: What a cheerful fuckin’ fic this is, for a fic about incestuous fuckin’. This takes the apocalyptic stakes and reels them back to a just deeply entertaining romp. Not too worried about the plot and much more worried about how hot these two are when they slam together, it’s a refreshingly non-angsty take on what it means that you just want to slurp on your brother wholesale.
Filthy Mind by rivkat
Rating: E Word Count: 26,384 Summary: Dean acquires unwelcome nightly visitors. Set post-Hell, without details as to how that happens.
Original post date, 10/07/2008
Reccing because: RivkaT is perhaps the all-time understander of the Weird Affect of Dean Winchester (As Played By Jensen Ackles) and the entirely destabilizing effect that affect has on the world. A real reality-warper. This fic deals with non-con and dub-con and who-knows-what-con and everything in between in a way that is more thoughtful than tawdry (although you can certainly enjoy the tawdriness as presented and the fic does not judge you for that). It also, thrillingly, deals with Sam’s alarm about the whole thing in a way which is fairly unflinching: he wants and does not want to want and also just really, really desperately wants-- Fans of Sheila’s analysis will probably enjoy this one. 
seeing double by candle_beck
Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 5,127 Summary: Dean has a concussion and his better senses come and go.
Original post date, 04/24/2009
Reccing because: I know there are more famous and more favored c_b fics, but this one is such a supremely perfect scene that it should be at the top of all c_b rec lists. It isn’t the catastrophic misery or assholery or intensity of some of the other big hitters but this just has this searingly true and singular experience coursing through it: to wit, that Dean is hurt and Sam is upset and then sorry and then in love. Which isn’t a half-bad summary of Supernatural itself, really. 
The incestuous courtship of the antichrist’s bride by fleshflutter
Rating: NC-17 Word Count: 48,000 Summary: Sam is trying to become the Antichrist in order to save the world. He has a small army of angels and demons, he has an adoring cult, he has a work of prophecy by Jack Kerouac, and he has Dean. Things are going pretty well until he accidentally signs Dean up as his Beloved Consort, a role that requires sex with the Antichrist on an altar. And that's when things stop going pretty well. Also, the soundtrack to the Apocalypse sucks.
Original post date, 06/08/2009
Reccing because: It is so, so rare to find crack fics that work. This is crack treated like crack and also taken entirely seriously, which is a rare balance to find. When it needs to be horror it works, when it needs to be ridiculous it works, when it needs to be hot as fuck it works, and never has the phrase ‘apocalyptic cock’ been so appropriate and so wonderful in context. 
I’ve Got A Hand For You by Edwardina
Rating: E Word Count: 14,938 Summary: Sam's inexperience is showing, and Dean helps the best way he knows how.
Original post date, 03/12/2010
Reccing because: This is underage par excellence, as wonderfully weird and vaguely creepy and hot and alarming as it should always be. Dean’s 19 and Sam’s 14 and they should not but they are, and if that isn’t just a summary of Supernatural as a whole I don’t know what is. On the face of it this is a vaguely gnasty first time fic, but what sets this one apart is how earnestly real it is — the grimy-but-not-OTT reality of the details, Sam’s goofy kiddishness being complicated by the reality of what hormones are and do, Dean’s too-cool-ness alleviated by the fact that he’s nineteen and therefore still an idiot, trying earnestly to help and getting it wrong and getting it very right, all at the same time. The attention to detail here just knocks me over with a feather. Gorgeous work.
Two Part Invention by De_Nugis
Rating: T Word Count: 6,938 Summary: Dean settles down, Sam finds him, they settle some things.
Original post date, 12/25/2010
Reccing because: I very much appreciate a fic that, on the face of it, seems like an OOC premise, and then as soon as you think about it for fifteen seconds you realize — oh, of course, of course that’s how it should be and how it would go. This fic delivers on that feeling in spades. There’s a deep appreciation here for how complicated Sam Winchester is and how strange and hard it would be to have his life, and zero judgment, really, for what he and Dean have to do to make that life tenable. I appreciate the subtlety here so much.
Top This by leonidaslion
Rating: E Word Count: 4,076 Summary: Dean's sure he's a top. Only problem is, Sam's pretty sure that's his job …
Original post date, 04/10/2011
Reccing because: Is this crack? It surely is. Is it PWP? You bet. Is it in character? To be honest it hardly matters, but despite the context and conceit it does manage, somehow, to kinda feel like Sam and Dean Winchester from the canon of the show Supernatural, and that is a trick that earns it a spot on this list. Especially the way Sam goes slightly smug there at the end. Delights.
It’s the Blueprint of Your Life by queenklu
Rating: E Word Count: 38,400 Summary: Sam jerks awake in the middle of the night and everything goes to hell. Well, not literally, though Dean is staring down the barrel of less than a year before his deal comes due. In the midst of dealing (or not dealing) with his impending death, a killer ghost ship, and Bela showing up out of the blue, Dean also has to figure out what’s going on in Sam’s head to make him so twitchy, why he’s suddenly breezing through this case while writing endless notes in a notebook he won’t let Dean see. Damn it, Dean thinks, This is gonna take a lot of chickflick moments.
Original post date, 10/09/2011
Reccing because: Time travel fic is fun as hell, and time travel fic that just soaks you in dramatic irony is even more fun, and more importantly time travel fic where the time traveler doesn’t have all the answers is best of all. Very little is better than Dean being somewhat at sea and Sam loving him fiercely and this fic delivers that in spades. I could only wish it were a little longer, which is a very, very rare statement from me.
The Fall Will Probably Kill You by killabeez
Rating: M Word Count: 6,773 Summary: Set between 7.04 and the aftermath of 7.07. Dean is not as okay as he'd like you to think. Neither is Sam.
Original post date, 11/06/2011
Reccing because: This fic is thoroughly in and of and intensely about season 7, which I adored and which doesn’t get enough credit from the fandom. It deals with the Sam’s Insanity arc in a way that’s angstier and ficcier than the show itself but it does so in this stupendous and murderously flat way. Dean is at his wit’s end and Sam is, too, but Sam’s finding a way to deal with it, and Sam will not compromise on what dealing with it means, and we’re all just forced to live with it. Fantastic reading experience, especially for the almost literal jumpscare you get about 2/3s through.
The Hunter Games by theproblematique
Rating: NC-17 Word Count: 92,601 Summary: When the infamous Winchester bad luck strikes twice in quick succession Sam and Dean are forced to compete in the most brutal reality TV show ever created. It’s impossible to escape the battlefield, hiding can only be temporary, and alliances inside those dark, bloodstained woods last about as long as it takes for the other Hunter to figure out how to use your weapons. And then kill you with them.
Original post date, 06/22/2012
Reccing because: This is a true all-timer wincest AU fic. We’re mostly all familiar with the source material, but this work blends the universe of the Hunger Games with the characterization & destiny of the Winchester boys in a way that’s extremely satisfying. The author’s other works are recced more often, but this piece is more deserving of a place as One Of Those Reclist Fics.
Kevin Tran for President by glovered
Rating: T Word Count: 11,714 Summary: Dean comes back from Purgatory to find Sam working as a barista at a coffee shop near Princeton, watching over Kevin Tran.
Original post date, 10/04/2012
Reccing because: Sometimes you just need a post-Purgatory fic that isn’t brutal. This story’s a light-hearted trip-along froth like most of glovered’s work, but there’s something in specific about this unfraught coming-together that makes it incredibly readable. Dean and Sam aren’t entirely on the same page but the relief of reunion makes everything else fade a little into the distance, and the charming little job they find themselves on here gives enough of an excuse for them to figure some things out. Also probably the best Cas & Meg side characters in a fic, so there’s that too.
Clear and simple and plain by Trojie
Rating: E Word Count: 1,893 Summary: After Sam gives up the Trials, things start getting better.
Original post date, 10/26/2013
Reccing because: This is a post-Trials fic where things don’t go incredibly wrong, which is a nice AU to sit in for a while. What’s impressive about this story, written in the time it was, is that it manages to presage the ~s11 era marriage very well indeed, in tone and vibe and even some content. They’re in the bunker and things aren’t perfect, but they’re together, and that’s a kind of perfection of its own. It isn’t sugary but it’s the kind of adult complex sweetness that makes one feel better, anyway.
hello by allwellandgood (formerly askance)
Rating: T Word Count: 4,128 Summary: There's a woman at the grocery store named Evelyn who always rings him up on the days he ventures out for food and she knows him, or likes to think she does. I hope you're not too lonely, she'll say. He chooses not to tell her that his dead brother sleeps at his feet every night. He'd rather not be the cause of her inevitable heart attack.
Original post date, 08/11/2014
Reccing because: So Dean’s dead. Everyone dies at some point. This fic is a beautifully soft and tender and bitterly kind way to deal with that. You feel Sam’s loss deep in your chest but it’s okay, because this is the world of Supernatural and there are options, and the relief he gets pours over like cool water. Not enough, and it’s not fixed, but it’s not as much of a misery as it was.
The Time Traveler’s Brother by amypond45
Rating: R Word Count: 55,458 Summary: Dean's life is turned upside down the night his mother dies. But that's also the night a mysterious grown-up version of Dean's brother first appears in his life. While Dean grows up, "Old Sam" is often there, especially when Dean's father isn't, and as Dean learns what the future holds, he begins to question everything his father has taught him about who he is and what he is supposed to become. Can Dean find a way to save his little brother from his own future? This pre-series AU follows Dean from age four to eighteen.
Original post date, 02/26/2015
Reccing because: It’s rare to have an AU so thoroughly engage with what the alternate universe it constructs means for characterization and plot. This does something outstanding with the Sam and Dean (and Deans) created by the conceit, but also uses that conceit to do something entirely new with the canon plot that just flips me over every time I remember it. There are some fantastic character insights here, both complimentary and not, but I’ll never be over the specific scene of young!Dean looking up at older!Dean and being disappointed. That’s him, that’s our little angst machine.
The King of Imperfections Takes Back the Prince of Mistakes: a fairy tale by britomart_is
Rating: E Word Count: 4,822 Summary: And they lived happily ever after.
Original post date, 06/06/2016
Reccing because: The summary is pretty much the summary and that’s such a relief, sometimes. They’re awful and stupid and they’re in love and love isn’t enough except it is, and they’re so friggin’ MARRIED in the most wonderful and dorky way. They have good-bad sex and they have idiot arguments and they’ve made it. Back in 2016 this seemed like the best possible option. Reading this story feels like reading 4800 words of relief.
Raw Food Diet by themegalosaurus
Rating: E Word Count: 2,959 Summary: Sam has one more meeting today. This one isn’t in his diary; not the public calendar everyone at the firm can access, nor the private one on his cell.
Original post date, 02/14/2019
Reccing because: If you were looking for depressing and almost revolting Lebanon AU, you’re in luck. This is serial killer!Dean at his worst and Sam Jobs at his (still slightly martyred) almost-worst and it’s the frankly gross and logical conclusion to: what would it mean, if those two horrible shitheads were still together, somehow or some way? It’s always almost a relief when fic manages to do a not-happy ending and this definitely does that. Refreshing, in its way, though you might want a shower after.
Ions in the Ether by nigeltde
Rating: E Word Count: 10,860 Summary: When was the last time you trusted happy.
Original post date, 03/12/2019
Reccing because: For any s2 obsessives as our author here is, this is a deep and alarming and inside-out dive into the obsession with a brother and with monstrousness and with what’s true and what’s not and also can you tell the difference, after all. A murky swirl through a shithole town, this fic picks and pries at wincest-as-concept in a way that’s somewhat achy and alarming and is overall delightful, if you’re willing to take the time to think about it. Plus Sam’s hot, which is of course a bonus.
there will be better days by deadlybride
Rating: E Word Count: 9,430 Summary: Sam and Dean settle into their heaven.
Original post date, 11/24/2020
Reccing because: I’m crass. But also I can’t think of another fic that feels as much like heaven as this one and I wanted heaven on the list.
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anotherwellkeptsecret · 8 months
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To a Stranger: Prologue & 1-5
This comic is based on a true story--about how a lonely waitress by day and artist by night crosses paths with the man who stood up for her when they were children.
This comic does not have a set update schedule. I will draw pages as time allows. Please enjoy!
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johnslittlespoon · 2 months
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plsssss can we talk about bucky getting his revenge and edging gale
gale edging john post | yes we cannnnn !! eta: ykw. i need to just turn this into a proper oneshot since this ended up being over 1k words. new wip created </3
john may be a man of little self control, but after that incident, he decides he can be at least a tiny bit patient so he can catch gale off guard with it when he gets his revenge. because the next few times they're fooling around, gale's expecting a retaliation, john can see it in the way he tenses up and glances at his face before he comes like he's waiting for it, but john never follows through with it. he wants gale to let his guard down, and that he does.
so a week or so later when john's kissing him and feeling him up and asks ever so sweetly if he can tie gale's wrists behind his back, gale doesn't think anything of it. john likes to take control occasionally and gale sometimes likes the feeling of not having to worry about making decisions, getting to let john call the shots, and john always puts extra time and effort into the way he touches gale when he's restrained because he likes to watch his darling blondie squirm.
john has him sit in his lap facing him, letting gale lean against his shoulder to take the pressure off his legs while john works him open on his fingers, already riled up from the pretty gasps gale's making against his neck but reigning himself in because he's gonna need to have some self control for once.
he sweet–talks gale through it, telling him how good he sounds, how well he's doing as he sinks down on his cock, guiding him with hands on his hips so he doesn't unbalance himself without the use of his own hands where they're tied behind his back with a belt. he stays still at first, letting gale ride him slowly, keeping his hands loosely on his waist while praising him and talking him into that foggy needy headspace until gale's thighs are trembling and john takes pity on him (and frankly is so hard he doesn't have the patience to keep his own hips still anymore).
so he runs his hands down from gale's waist to his ass to hold him in place while he rolls his hips up into him, watching the way gale's eyebrows pinch and his pretty lips fall open in a silent oh as john angles himself in a way gale couldn't with his own movements. lets his mouth run as he slowly picks up his pace, all the coos of "so pretty", "you're taking me so well", "you feel so fucking good", loving how reactive gale is to every word and every thrust.
he moves his hands to gale's hips to get a better grip, can tell gale's getting close because he gets noisier, losing his filter and letting out breathy little "fuck"s and "john"s, head rolling back on his shoulders to bare his neck, rocking his hips down to meet john every time he fucks up into him. and then just as he gets the warning of "close", he pulls gale down by his hips to bury himself deep in him and stops moving completely.
the whine of desperation that tears out of gale's throat when he lifts his head has john knocking his skull back against the wall, cock twitching hard enough inside gale that he's sure the blond can feel it. he watches gale's biceps flex when he instinctively tries to get his hands free, feels his hips try to squirm out of his hands to keep moving, but he keeps him pinned firmly down, dizzy at the way he clenches down around him.
a plaintive "john" pulls a groan from him, but he composes himself, lifts his gaze back up to gale's face and lets the corners of his lips quirk up, purrs out a "yeah, sweetheart? something wrong?"
laughs at the way gale cusses him out, a rare sight of his little spitfire with a mouth on him, though the effect is a lot closer to being hissed at by a kitty than actually being convinced to move. john lets him run his mouth, murmurs a "cute" once gale's done, and then promptly hammers his hips up into him just once, swearing under his breath at the way it punches an open–mouthed moan from gale. rocks his hips up into him a few times before going back to a quick and rough pace, the sound of skin on skin getting both of them flushed.
it only takes a minute before gale's hips are twitching into his hands and whispered pleas are falling from his mouth and john thinks he's never had to use as much self restraint in his life as he does when he forces himself to stop moving again, once again yanking gale down against him, holding him still in his lap.
gale really fights it this time, enough so that it's a merciful distraction for john from how close he himself is (trust his idea to backfire as he ends up edging himself along with gale, he thinks) when he has to use proper strength to keep him in place. any blood that might've still been lurking around his brain rushes south the moment he sees gale's eyes getting shiny with frustration, cheeks all pink and lips red and flushed from biting down on them.
"not so fun, is it?" john taunts, but his voice comes out a bit more raspy than he would've liked, evident how much the stop and start is getting to him too. it's probably karma, because he knows he's being more mean than gale was to him, but he can't help it; those blue eyes look so pretty when tears are threatening to spill over when he's desperate and needy like this.
gale wriggles in his lap the best he can, still furiously chasing his orgasm, head finally falling back in frustration before he lifts it again, looking john in the eyes, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and letting it go. he whines quietly and whimpers out the sweetest "please, johnny," almost crying in his impatience, and fuck.
john doesn't mean for his hips to twitch up at that, but they do, hard. gale sobs out a broken sound at the way john's cock hits just where he needs it to in his accidental movement, and gale spills over his stomach completely untouched, just like that. john swears and drives his hips up into him in an attempt to quickly amend his slip up, moaning loud at the wrecked noises that immediately start bubbling up out of gale as he fucks him through his orgasm.
he tips over the edge himself from the desperate sounds the blond starts to make as he crosses the line into overstimulation, feeling gale's hips jerk frantically in his hands, fighting to get away from the incessant rhythm of his cock inside him as john shudders through his own orgasm, fingers digging into gale's sides.
he slows down to a gentle grind of his hips when gale collapses against his chest, face pressed to his neck, shivering at the slow drag inside him and whining pitifully when john eventually pulls out, settling him down on his thighs while he reaches around to undo the belt and free his hands. his heart bursts at the way gale instantly wraps his arms around him, clinging to him as they both catch their breath, john petting his hair and showering him with praise.
he eventually huffs out a laugh, murmuring a "sorry buck. payback's a bitch, but that was an accident, i swear." gale groans against him in complaint, lightly nipping at his shoulder in retaliation, too tired to fight back, but john's sure he'll pay for it eventually.
it's confirmed with the "better watch your back, darling" that he gets when they're both pulling their clothes back on, but to john, that sounds less like a threat and more like a good time, and he shoots gale a crooked grin to let him know as much.
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rintoki · 9 months
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when you sleep at night
characters: kafka x dom!reader
tw: somnophilia, dubcon, nothing too crazy actually relax
a/n: i guess this can be considered a second part to my first kafka smut, its like the exact same setting and dynamic.
MINORS DNI
the door opens easily as kafka steps into the entrance way, slipping out of her heeled boots and quietly making her way through the dark living room. all the lights in the house was out and it was eerily silent, through the dim lighting kafka strains her eyes to check the clock hanging on your wall.
11:37pm
you couldn’t possibly be sleeping this early yet. but, alas, you proved to be unpredictable to her once again as she turns the knob to your bedroom, pushing it open to reveal your sleeping form on the bed. her feet padded softly on the floor; taking slow, deliberate steps closer to the bed that you laid on.
kafka clicked her tongue, a tinge of annoyance blossoming in her chest when she sees that you were indeed fast asleep and not just pretending to mess with her. not that you were the type to do that anyway. she felt her finger twitch unconsciously, standing foolishly by your bed as she is once again reminded of how little you cared for her. despite her now regular visits to your residence, you never once welcomed her, nor have you ever made any type of accommodations towards her.
the woman breathes deeply, your familiar scent permeates the room and her body is quick to react to it. reminded of all the late nights spent together, how warm your body felt next to hers, and how good you made her feel. kafka shuts her eyes for a moment, deciding on what to do now. part of her knows that the right thing to do is to leave and come back another time, preferably informing you beforehand like you had asked of her.
but instead she remains in her spot; unmoving as she watches the steady rise and fall of your chest, your soft breasts hidden underneath the thin material of your pyjamas, and how easy it would be to simply unbutton it right now. kafka finds herself getting lost in her thoughts, eyes raking over your body as she thinks about everything she could do to you now. but more than anything, her purple eyes finally land on your hands; the same hands that brought her orgasm after orgasm. the very ones that hugged and caressed her body, how she wanted to feel them again.
and as if in a trance, kafka pushes her jacket off her shoulders, letting the expensive coat fall to the floor without a care. normally unheard of with how much she loves her coats, but now there’s no one here to see that. and there’s no one to witness as she peels off the layers of her clothing, her belly tightening with every passing second and soon the woman stood in nothing but her panties.
kafka crawls gingerly onto the bed, careful to not wake you as she eyes your hand resting by your side. she tests the waters, nimble fingers wrapping around your wrist and pulling it away from your body. when you show no reaction does the excitement bubble up within her, her pussy already beginning to ache with need
inch by inch, she shuffles closer. until your relaxed fingers lay just underneath her clothed pussy, a wet spot now forming on her panties. kafka’s breathes deeply, trying to keep it even as she lowers herself onto your hand, feeling your fingers fold naturally under her weight.
a shaky breath escapes her at the feeling, slowly moving her hips back and forth on your curled fingers, not caring how awkward the position was. kafka watches your sleeping form carefully, but you showed no signs of waking up, still blissfully unaware and deeply asleep.
a small part of her was annoyed—that you didn’t wake up and catch her in the act, that she won’t get to see your reaction. but the larger part of her is now pushing off her panties, letting her bare pussy rub against the palm of your hand. it was warm, and the ridges brushed perfectly against her swollen clit. kafka shudders, her breathing turns heavy as she continues the slow rutting of her hips, allowing herself to enjoy the sensations until your hand was sufficiently lubricated from how much she leaked.
and with shaky hands, she positioned your fingers upright, aligning it with her hole before sinking down upon them. kafka nearly whines, biting back any sounds as your fingers penetrates her tight walls. she grips your wrist, holding them in place as the woman lifts her hips once again, this time pushing your fingers into her pussy. again and again, your fingers sunk deep into her warmth and kafka pants quietly. her mind was feeling dizzy from the entire situation, the fact that you weren’t even conscious now and yet you still managed to reduce her to this state. how even just your fingers was enough for her pussy to twitch and push back so desperately against your hand.
she squeezes her eyes shut, her head hung low and nearing the verge of her orgasm as she angles your wrist so that the tips of your fingers brushed against her spot. the sensitive patch of nerves singing in response as it felt like shocks ran through her body. kafka gasps loudly, unable to hold back her moans now as it almost felt like your hand was moving by itself. too far gone to put the pieces together even when your fingers begin to curl and thrust inside her, or when your thumb has suddenly begin to press against her clit at the same time.
her mouth hung open, panting breathlessly as her body felt like it was on fire. her hand wrapped helplessly around your wrist even as it moved by itself and her back arched, muscles flexing and her thighs trembled terribly. kafka was right on the edge, just a little more… just one more stroke, just one more thrust…
“agh…! fu—fuck, wha…!”
the woman felt every sensation in her body stop cold. before she’d knew it your hand was already ripped from her body, and her orgasm had come to a screeching halt. kafka nearly chokes, scrambling to her senses as she finally raises her head to face you.
from her flushed expression to her bare body, your cold eyes finally landed on your soaked fingers, covered in her wetness after having used it for her own pleasure. kafka watches with wide eyes; somewhere in her mind she understood that you had probably been awake for a while now, that you’d probably purposely fucked with her. brought her to the brink of an orgasm before ruthlessly ripping it away from her.
her heart pounds in her chest, an unfamiliar feeling as she waits for your next move, your next words. what will you with her now? she’s not that shameless to ask you to make her cum again after begin caught like that, but for whatever reason she could feel her pussy tightening again, waiting with anticipation of what you might do to her now.
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infriga · 5 months
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Something I appreciate in the Dishonored fandom is that some other fandoms are filled with too much ship purity culture where you get guff if you enjoy or even just respect a problematic ship™ (which may or may not actually be "problematic" in some way), and it's annoying and makes for a more hostile fandom environment from people on all sides imo, and then you have Dishonored fans who went "yes we will ship the sad wet rat dad with the man who killed his wife" and that is extremely valid of them tbqfh
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stobinesque · 1 year
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@steddie-week day 2: fluff | 1.8k words | teen and up
The door to the apartment slammed shut, followed by the jingle-clang of keys landing in the ceramic bowl Robin had made for Steve two years ago.  
"Babe?" Steve looked up from the magazine he'd been flipping through and frowned at the stormy expression on Eddie's face. 
Eddie barely acknowledged him, just swept past with stomping feet, dropping an absentminded kiss to the top of Steve's head as he made his way into the bedroom. A few moments later Steve heard the telltale thunk and flop of Eddie's bag hitting the ground and the man himself hitting their bed.
Ah, so one of those days.
Steve set down his magazine, folded his reading glasses neatly atop it, and pushed himself up from the couch to make for the bathroom.
~*~*~*~
Eddie wanted to die. Nope, no, he wanted to commit a homicide. 
Actually, scratch that, being wanted for murder sucked.
What he wanted was for the world not to be full of a bunch of entitled little shitsacks who had never been taught how to talk to another human being who didn't have a white collar around their neck.
At least his bed was there to support him. The mattress was a little lumpy, sure, but nothing could outmatch the satisfaction of dramatically flinging oneself onto a flat surface after a shity day at work. 
The sound of running bath water filtered into Eddie's awareness. 
Okay, maybe one thing.
Steve usually allowed him a few minutes to sulk and brood when he got home feeling like shit. Sometimes interacting with any human (even someone he would literally—and nearly did—die for) was just too much. 
"Eds?"
"Mmph." Eddie spit some of the hair that had landed in his mouth out, but didn't bother to raise his head more than half an inch off the bed to do so.
Steve chuckled. "Okay, five more minutes—otherwise the water will get too cold. I'm gonna go make us some tea."
Eddie raised an arm and waved vaguely in the direction of Steve's voice in acknowledgement.
He let himself drift for his five minutes to the sound of Steve puttering around the kitchen—grabbing mugs, teabags, the sugar jar—before peeling himself up off the bed when the shrill whistle of the kettle pierced through the relative silence of the apartment. If he wasn't in the bath by the time Steve made it there he'd be in trouble. Which could be fun, but it wasn't what he was in the mood for today. 
Eddie stripped off his—itchy, sweaty, suffocating—uniform as he padded over to the bathroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind him as he went.
~*~*~*~
Steve waltzed back into the bathroom with two steaming mugs in his hand to find Eddie already situated in the tub, knees pulled up under his chin, hair piled up in a messy bun, and one hand dragging lazily across the surface of the water. 
Steve set both mugs down on the ground next to the bath. "Hey, baby," he murmured, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend’s temple.
"Hi." Eddie's voice was low and subdued.
“Bad day?” Steve asked as he pulled his shirt up and over his head.
Eddie shrugged. “You could say that.”
“Wanna talk about it?” Steve shucked off his jeans.
Eddie shook his head. “Not much to talk about.”
“Okay.” Steve folded his clothes, set them in a neat stack atop the closed toilet lid, and carefully lowered himself into the bath behind Eddie.
The water was just a touch too hot for his own comfort, but Eddie ran cold and preferred his baths on the scalding warmer side. (Shared showers were a trial. Eddie insisted that Steve was trying to murder him with frostbite. Steve maintained that Eddie was trying to boil the both of them alive.)
Some of the tension had already bled out just from being in the bath. Eddie’s shoulders were no longer curled up around his ears—instead, he was slouched forward into the water. 
Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist and pressed a kiss to the patchy birthmark high up on his back, smiling when Eddie responded with a humming little sigh. “Wash my hair?” he asked.
“Sure thing, Eds.”
Steve reached over to grab the shampoo and tiny bucket they left in the shower just for this. “Wanna drink some of your tea before I douse you?”
Eddie didn’t say anything, but reached out blindly to grab one of the steaming mugs next to the tub. Steve didn’t bother holding back a snort that he’d managed to grab the “Don’t Bother Me, I’m Crabby” mug they’d nicked from Wayne. 
Eddie took a slow sip of the tea, and the second he’d set it back down and straightened back up, Steve dumped a bucket of warm water over his head.
Eddie spluttered. “Babe, what the fuck!”
Steve snickered from behind him. “Just wanted to make sure you were here on earth with me, bedhead.”
Eddie shook his head like a rain-soaked dog. “You could have at least taken out the ponytail first!”
“I suppose I could have,” Steve said, lips twitching up into a smile as he reached up to start pulling Eddie’s dark curls from where they’d gotten tangled in the hair tie. “I got you talking again in something other than a monotone, though.”
“Maybe I was enjoying playing the dark, broody hero.”
Steve pinched Eddie’s side, which resulted in a high-pitched squeak, and a wild flail that had water splashing up around them. "Behave," Steve chastised—though the warning was undercut by the laugh of unconcealed delight he barked out as Eddie’s arms swung around him. 
"You're the one assaulting me in my time of suffering!"
"Suck it up, buttercup,” Steve shot back, combing his fingers through wet curls and gently detangling each and every knot he ran into. He couldn't help but rub the silky-soft strands between his fingers as he went. Steve's own day had been slow and uneventful, but a quiet sort of unease had been hovering at the edges for hours. Drawing Eddie a bath and settling in behind him to wash his hair helped settle Steve back into his body just as much as it did for Eddie. 
Steve began working shampoo into Eddie's roots, massaging his fingers into his scalp, and Eddie's head tipped back as he let out a pleased hum that sounded almost like a purr. "Love your fingers in my hair, Stevie," he mumbled, sounding a bit hazy.
"Yeah? Is that the only place you like my fingers?" Steve asked, right into Eddie's ear. 
Eddie scrambled back upright and turned to face Steve with an alarmed expression on his face. "No! Why would you think that? Did I say something to make you think that? Please, I’m so sorry, baby. Please know that I love your fingers anywhere on me. Or in me. What if they went somewhere else right now?" 
Steve laughed, grabbing Eddie's shoulder to turn him back around with one hand, and dipping the bucket back into the water to rinse the suds out of Eddie's hair with the other. When Steve was sure he'd thoroughly rinsed Eddie's hair he leaned past him to grab the conditioner and whisper in his ear, "You can get them somewhere else a little later if you're good for me, baby," before leaning back and clicking the bottle open.
"I'll be so good for you, Stevie. Just tell me what I gotta do."
"Keep still and don't sass me for the next five minutes."
Eddie's mouth opened and then immediately snapped back shut as he clearly decided that whatever his response to that was gonna be probably qualified as "sass."
"Good boy," Steve said simply, dropping another kiss to Eddie's back. 
"I can be good when I wanna be," Eddie grumbled. 
"Careful," Steve shot back, gently chiding. He methodically worked the conditioner through Eddie's hair in sections, tugging gently as he did, just for the soft satisfaction that ran through him every time Eddie let out a soft gasp in response to it. 
"Always careful, Stevie," Eddie mumbled back, eyes fluttering shut. 
Steve reached down to brush one hand over the scars running down Eddie's side. "Not always," he whispered, just a little sadly, as he pressed a firm kiss to the mostly-faded ring of scars at his throat. 
"Mm, don't be sad, baby."
"Not sad. Just glad you're alive."
Eddie was quiet for a stretch, and Steve chuckled. 
"What? What were you gonna say, asshole?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, love," Eddie replied, all faux innocence.
"You were gonna say something sassy just then, that's why you went all quiet. So, out with it, come on. How were you gonna sass me in response to me saying I'm glad you're alive?"
"Promise you won't hold it against me?"
"Yeah, baby." Steve leaned over to press a kiss to Eddie’s nose. "This one's a freebie."
Eddie looked over his shoulder with a wide grin, and a twinkle in his eye. "I was gonna call you a sap."
Steve rolled his eyes. "Oh, well, fuck me for being happy my boyfriend's alive I guess."
"I was actually hoping that you would fuck me," Eddie replied. 
"You're pushing your luck, Eds," Steve warned, yanking lightly at his hair. 
"Sorry, baby."
Steve ran his hands up and down the sides of Eddie's arms. "All forgiven, Eds." 
Steve let his hands drift as he waited for the conditioner to rest—digging his fingers into the dense coils of muscle in Eddie's neck, smoothing his palms down the ridges of Eddie's spine, ghosting his hands up Eddie's sides. When time was up, he grabbed the bucket, turned on the tap to fill it with clean, warm water, and spilled it over Eddie’s head. Steve combed his fingers through the chestnut locks again, making sure he’d thoroughly rinsed them once more. The two of them fell still and silent, like two little stones in the river bed. 
Steve loved this. The quiet trance they fell into, as Eddie relaxed into the water, and Steve pressed kisses into his lover’s skin, and they both forgot the mugs of tea that Steve made. 
Steve separated Eddie’s hair into even sections, savoring the feeling of freshly cleaned locks passing through his fingers as he wove the strands together—over-under, over-under, over-under—and plaited Eddie’s hair down the length of his back. When he was done, he flipped the end of the braid back over Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie leaned further into him, pressing the length of his back against Steve’s chest.
Steve let his hands start wandering, and Eddie let out a soft gasp of surprise when the pads of Steve's thumbs brushed over both nipples. "Steve."
"Shh, I got you baby," Steve murmured, and let one hand drop down to where Eddie was stiffening up beneath the water.
"I know you do, Stevie," Eddie whispered back on a sigh and a gasp. "I know you do."
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