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#on a Sunday of course

luxaofhesperides · 5 months

Note

For the ghostlights drabbles: “Say my name” with a favor being called in?

Duke had saved Phantom years ago, back when he was just out of high school and working to take down a branch of the government that was kidnapping and experimenting on people, targeting magic users and metas. Phantom had been working on his own to take them down, and they met in the middle, trashing a lab and freeing as many people as they could.

They had managed to shoot his back, knocking him down and making him bleed a glowing green. Phantom couldn’t move, protecting two kids with his body, and Duke couldn’t reach them in time before they were taken away by another swarm of agents.

He was able to go after them in time, free Phantom and the kids, and evacuated the victims before Phantom rained hell down on the facility.

At the end, standing in the background as they watched paramedics treat the victims and take them towards the nearest hospitals, Phantom had turned towards him and thanked him.

Or rather, he thanked the Signal and offered him a bracelet with a rounded orb of ice, glowing faintly in the dark. If you ever need me, he had said, Hold this, and call me name.

Phantom vanished once the last of the victims were transported to a safer location, and Duke hadn’t seen him since.

He’s kept up with news about Phantom as best he can, but from what he could tell, Phantom is based primarily in Amity Park, Illinois, and the town is fiercely protective of their hero. News rarely leaks out of there, and with them running on their own servers and independent internet, it was nearly impossible to get in from the outside.

Phantom remained a curious and distant figure in Duke’s life. He holds onto the bracelet still, guarding it carefully and sometimes running his fingers over the ice that never melts.

But he doesn’t call in that favor. He’s never to.

At least, not until now.

Sucking in a breath, Duke prepares himself and holds the orb of ice in the palm of his hand. He’s in civies, unable to hide his identity for this, and closes his eyes. “Phantom,” he says.

For a moment, nothing happens. Duke blinks his eyes open and frowns, mind already forming new plans to contact Phantom. Then the ice goes bitingly cold, almost painful, and the temperature in the room drops dramatically. The ice lifts up from his hand, floating in the air, then cracks open.

White-blue light spills out of it, growing brighter as it seems to swallow up the room entirely. Duke hurries to back up, an arm thrown up to protect his eyes. His breath mists out before him and he shivers as the sound of ice cracking fills the room.

And then, just as suddenly as it started, the light disappears and the cold fades away like a bad dream.

Slowly, Duke lowers his arm and looks up at Phantom, floating in the middle of his living room with a crown made of ice, engulfed in blue fire, hovers above his head. He looks older, more regal, holding his head high.

He regards Duke carefully for a minute, then tilts his head and says, “Signal?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Man, I’m so glad you came.”

“You… need help with something? You’re calling in your favor now, right?”

Duke nods. He understands Phantom’s confusion; being in the hero business means that favors like these tend to be used only during the most hopeless of times, when the world is close to ending, when the chances of getting out of a situation alive is close to impossible. It’s exactly the kind of thing Duke was expecting to call Phantom in for.

Not the kid sleeping on his couch.

“You’re a ghost, yeah?”

Phantom blinks at him. “Ghost king, now. Why?”

“Well…” Duke rubs the back of his neck, nervously. “I didn’t really know who else to call, and I can’t do this on my own since I’m not a ghost. But this kid got attached to me and won’t leave, so now I’m taking care of her and I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“I don’t know why you think I have any experience with kids but—”

“She’s a ghost.”

Phantom stops short. “Ah. I see.” He floats down until his feet touch the floor, and then he’s standing like any other person. “Where…?”

Duke looks past Phantom’s shoulder, and Phantom turns to follow his gaze. Chelsea, the ghost girl, looks to be around nine years old and is fast asleep on the couch, curled up under Duke’s softest blanket.

“Signal,” Phantom says quietly, “What, exactly, is the favor you need from me?”

“You can say no,” Duke starts. “I get that this is a lot. But I need help raising her. And since you’re a ghost, I figured you could help me learn about the ghostly side of things. You don’t have to raise her with me or anything! Just… I would appreciate any help you’re willing to give me.”

Phantom doesn’t say no. He doesn’t say anything. He just stares down at Chelsea, an unreadable expression on his face.

On the couch. Chelsea shifts in her sleep, brows furrowing as she makes a choked noise in the back of her throat.

Moving on autopilot after so many nights of this routine, Duke kneels next to the couch, fishing one of her hands from beneath the blanket. He gives it a few reassuring squeezes, keeping it a slow rhythm to pull her gently from her nightmare. She settles down in just a minute, brow smoothing out as she continues to sleep.

The silence grows and Duke is all too aware that his heart is the only one beating.

He doesn’t hear Phantom move. Doesn’t realize he’s right next to him until he sees Phantom’s hand reach out towards Chelsea. When Duke looks, Phantom is sitting on the floor next to Duke, looking at Chelsea with something soft and devastated in his eyes. His hand hovers about her head for a long moment, then slowly lowers to rest on her head.

The touch looks gently, barely putting any pressure on her head, but it’s enough to make Chelsea’s eyes snap open, suddenly wide awake. She stares at Phantom with wide eyes, then sits up and looks between him and Duke.

“Who are you?” she asks in a small voice that makes Duke want to stand against the world to keep her safe.

Phantom smiles. It’s casual and charming and makes him look like anyone else, as if he’s not a powerful king from a realm unreachable to humans. “Hi there,” he says, “I’m Danny. I’m a ghost like you. Signal called me and asked me to meet you.”

The Ghost King is good with kids. Who would have thought?

Chelsea looks at him for confirmation and only relaxes when he nods. “I’m Chelsea. What do you mean ghost? I’m not dead.”

Both he and Phantom tense, carefully keeping their expressions neutral. She hasn’t told him much at all, just that her parents were gone and forgot her and she got hurt, so she wanted to stay with ‘Mr. Signal’ because he’s a hero and heroes keep people safe and he was the only one who was Black like her. Duke hadn’t had the heart to say no, and began searching for her family, only to find that her parents had fled the state, and likely the country, after killing their only child through neglect and a dangerous environment.

It was then that he realized that her powers were not because she was a meta, but because she was ghost.

It still hurts to realize how young she is, how much of her life had been stolen from her in an instant. Duke hadn’t been brave enough to broach the topic with her, instead choosing to let her grow comfortable in his presence, get them both settled into a routine now that he was her primary guardian.

“I know it sounds scary,” Phantom says, “And you may not want to believe me, but it’s true. I’m sorry that you died so young, but that just means you get to hang out with me and other ghosts from now on!”

Chelsea crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him. “I am not dead,” she says.

“Cici, I’m sorry to say this, but you are,” Duke cuts in. “That’s why I called… Danny. You have new powers as a ghost, and he can help you get used to them.”

“I’m not dead!” she says again.

“Kid,” Phantom begins, but Chelsea shakes her head hard and hops off the couch.

“I’m not lying! Watch, I’ll prove it to you!” She closes her eyes and scrunches up her nose, concentrating. Her hands curl into tight fists by her sides, and the glow around her grows dim. Two faint, stuttering rings of light appear around her waist. They flicker and wobble in the air, as if weak and uncertain of their own existence, then split apart, one moving up towards her head while the other falls to her feet.

Beside him, Phantom sucks in a sharp breath, but Duke can’t turn to see what’s wrong when he’s trying to take in the sight of Chelsea suddenly full of vibrant color, looking more solid that he’s ever seen her, very much alive.

“See?” she says proudly, lifting her arms and doing a spin to show off her right she was. “I told you I’m not dead!”

“No, you’re not,” Phantom agrees, sounding shell-shocked. When Duke is finally able to look away from Chelsea to check on him, he looks awed. There’s the smallest smile on his face, just the slightest upturn of his lips, but it makes him look softer.

Duke turns his attention back to Chelsea before he can be caught staring. “Cici, can you come here for a second?”

She goes before he’s finished speaking, crossing the space between them in a single jump, then grins up at him. Her hair is a bit of a mess, the two buns he managed to get her hair into falling askew. He makes a note to visit the old aunties in the Narrows later to ask them to teach him how to do hair. For now, he holds out a hand and Chelsea drops an arm into it.

It seems to good to be true, having her be alive, but her pulse is steady and strong when he presses his thumb against the inside of her wrist.

“Well,” he says, leaning back and letting go of her arm. “You certainly proved us wrong.”

Chelsea doesn’t have much time to look smug before PHantom quietly says, “You’re like me.”

“What?”

“You’re like me,” he tells Chelsea. “A halfa.”

She tilts her head to one side. “What’s that?”

“Someone who is half human and half ghost. Both dead and alive.”

Duke blinks, taking in the words, then turns to face Phantom so quickly he’s worried he might give himself whiplash. Halfa, he said. Like me, he said.

And sure enough, two rings of light, bright and strong, appear around Phantom’s waist before splitting in half, moving over his entire body.

Gone is the Ghost King, all powerful and adorned in dark clothing with a crown of ice above his head. In his place is a guy who looks to be Duke’s age, eyes a deep blue and his black hair messy, feet set solidly on the floor. He looks completely normal, completely human, and no longer an impossibility.

“You still up for learning how to use all your new powers?” Phantom asks.

Chelsea grins. “Yeah!” And then, with a quick flick of her eyes going from Phantom to Duke that he almost misses, very innocently asks, “Are you going to stay with us then?”

“I… don’t know?” Phantom looks to Duke for an answer.

Already, Duke can see this going two ways. The correct way forward, the normal one, has Phantom popping in every so often, taking Chelsea out for a few hours to work on training her and her powers. It’s easy and routine and they can keep their boundaries uncrossed and be professional.

The other path is what Duke wants most that he shouldn’t impose onto the literal Ghost King. He could have Phantom living with them while he’s on Earth and out of Amity Park, having a place at the table, a section in the closet for his own clothes, a quietly domestic night together while Chelsea sleeps where they can get to know each other more, get to know each other outside of news reports and texts on a screen.

“You can stay with us if you want,” Duke offers, casually, “It might keep my apartment safe from her powers acting up on their own again.”

“Are you sure? I could always just fly in on the weekends or something.”

“I’d appreciate having you around. So you can help Cici.”

“If you don’t mind,” Phantom says, looking away. Like this, fully alive with a beating heart, it’s easy to see the blush steal away across his cheeks.

“I don’t.”

“I don’t either!” Chelsea pops in, looking far too gleeful by their awkward conversation.

Duke can’t help but laugh, feeling lighter than he had in ages. The relief of knowing that Chelsea is alive, for the most part at least, eases the guilt of thinking he had been too late to save her, that there was no chance she could have made it out and had a future, makes him feel weak. All the exhaustion of the past few weeks hits him all at once and he wants nothing more than to collapse in bed and sleep for twelve hours.

“Alright, squirt,” he says, reaching out to pat her head. “It’s late. We can talk more in the morning, so go to bed. In your actual bed this time, not on the couch.”

Chelsea stands up taller, ready to argue, but Duke gives her a Look™ and she quickly shuts her mouth, nods, and drags her feet back to her room (the former guestroom he can never give any of the other Waynes ever again, once they find out about her).

Sighing, Duke collapses onto the couch once he hears the door shut behind her. Phantom joins him after a few seconds, sitting tentatively on the edge of the couch. The cushion moves beneath his weight, another reminder of how solid and alive he is right not.

Duke wants to touch him, to reach out and feel for himself his pulse, the warmth of his body, his chest lifting with each breath.

He doesn’t move. He stays where he is, hands carefully still, and tries to think past the dizzying thoughts of she’s still alive, I’m not too late, he’s still here, he’s alive.

“Rough week?” Phantom asks, voice purposefully light.

“Something like that.”

“You should get some sleep too.”

“I don’t think I can. Not after everything. My mind’s too loud right now.”

Phantom shifts closer to him, hesitant in a way that Duke has never seen before in him, and asks, “Want me to stay with you until you mind quiets down some?”

“Yeah. I’d like that. Thanks, Phantom.”

“You know, if I’m going to be around so often as Chelsea’s halfa mentor, then you might as well call me Danny.”

Truth be told, Duke didn’t think that was his real name. He’s glad to know it’s not.

“Then call me Duke.”

“...Are you sure? You could still hide your identity from me.”

“Nah, I trust you. A name for a name, yeah?”

Danny smiles. “Duke,” he says, testing out the name, and it’s never sounded better than when it falls from Danny’s mouth.

“Danny,” Duke returns. He belatedly realizes that they’ve leaned towards each other, drawn together like gravity, stuck in each other’s orbit. It feels natural. It feels like this is where they’re meant to be.

Maybe he should be more cautious. They’ve only meant once before, after all. But he’s read all he could on Phantom and has seen how Amity Park loves him. He’s stressed and exhausted and trying to figure out how to look after a half-ghost child that’s already been dealt a bad hand in life. He should be keeping Phantom at a distance, watching over him carefully to ensure he isn’t a threat to Chelsea.

But Duke saw how he acted with Chelsea, so gentle and understanding and kind. That’s all he needed to see.

He may not know much about Danny, but he knows this: he is trustworthy.

Enough to entrust his identity to him.

Enough to entrust Chelsea to him.

It’s more than a favor; it’s a promise to walk this road together.

There’s no one he’d rather do this with.

“Thanks,” he says again, “For all of this. I know it’s a lot.”

Danny shrugs. “I don’t mind. Really. It’s nice to know there’s another halfa out there, no matter how she came to be one. Makes things feel less lonely.”

“Will you tell me more about halfas?”

“Later. Once you get some proper rest. We’ve got time, haven’t we?”

“We do,” Duke agrees, affection settling warm in his chest. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

Learning how to control her new powers won’t be easy for Chelsea. Learning how to take care of her won’t be easy. Learning how to do things together, as Duke and Danny rather than the Signal and Phantom, won’t be easy. But Duke knows with a certainty he feels in his bones that they’re going to be fine.

So long as they’ve got each other, they’ll be fine.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #prompt fill #my writing #thought a lot abt what the favor could be but i could not resist the idea of surprise co-parents once i thought of it #here's a kid who clings to someone she knows is safe bc she is scared and alone!!#heres a stressed out hero trying to take care of a kid with no knowledge of how to do that!! and the kid is a ghost!!#heres a ghost king expecting to be used as a weapon and called in for a big battle suddenly finding another halfa!!!#so much going on here. so much to think abt with this!!!!!#i do love found family like this where they all kinda stumble into it and do their best to make it good #also could not resist making yet another oc. chelsea has my whole heart i love her <3 shes my daughter first #the bats dont know abt chelsea yet!! bc she can go invisble. its all been instinct every time they pop over to visit duke #soon she'll be able to control it and meet them properly #by properly i mean dukes gonna go over for sunday brunch and a little girl is gonna pop out from behind him like 'hi! im new!'#they will all love her of course. they will be shocked but happy!!#and a little less happy abt the GHOST KING duke has been hiding in his apartment that hes co-parenting with #sorry for the long tags im obsessed w this idea i want to Expand on it #maybe one day... with my other wips out of the way...

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midnight-moth · 7 months

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What if. …

Phantom listens, and eventually peeks his head around the corner to watch. Cirrus and Cumulus seated together on the creaky velvet bench in front of the upright piano, playing together.

He loves the sound. All of the keyboards and synthesizers are cool. But this is different, it feels organic, vibration, air and space. Something about it feels like his own magic and he doesn’t know why.

And even though he knows the keys are made of something hard, they look soft to the touch. And he wants to touch them.

He rounds the corner and sees the vacant bench and decides to chance it. Lifts the lid and hits a single key. Rationally, he should anticipate the sound, but it makes him jump nonetheless.

He tries to apply what he knows to produce a chord. But it’s all a little bit confusing. Unfamiliar in a way. His fingers try to find the right places on their own but thankfully there’s two ghoulettes watching him from the doorway who are willing to help.

They speak and he jumps again and apologizes. Of course they tell him there’s nothing to apologize for. They offer to teach him and he accepts. They make him a notebook that has alternates sheets of staff and lined pages.

They litter the pages with little notes of encouragement or tips, written in colourful gel ink. They plaster the sheets with stickers. Soon he learns he prefers minor scales because they sounds a little sad but very pretty. And he loves the damper pedal because it makes the notes linger in his ears long after he’s struck the keys.

He has an end game. He didn’t at first. But now he can’t wait to show Dew what he can do. For him to lead Dew to the bench and play for him. Because he isn’t quite sure he could ever impress Dew with a guitar. That maybe, Dew would focus on the sound rather than his technique.

Maybe it’s embarrassing, how eager he is to please. But just once he wants Dew to be the one watching in awe as his hands move. To feel just a little of what Phantom feels when he watches Dew play.

#he would most definitely compose his own piece #he would absolutely be terrified and insecure #it would take 43 pep talks from both cirrus and cumulus before he’d be ready #Dew would of course be floored when cirrus inevitably blabs that phantom not only wrote the piece he played #but that he wrote it for Dew specifically #Dew buys him some super fancy heavy weight leather bound staff as a thank you #now Dew waits for him on the bench at the same time every week #leans on phantoms shoulder and wraps his tail around his waist and closes his eyes #no one ever interrupts of course but Dew eventually tells him that everyone is dying to hear #he’s known that for a while but he wanted this all for himself for a while #I hate sundays so much and I am thinking of 8000 timelines and stories to distract myself #phantom ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #nameless ghouls #cirrus ghoulette #cumulus ghoulette #midnight moth writes

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another-goblin · 18 days

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Dr.Ratio: "I'm not going to betray my dear friend Gambler, actually we work together to dupe you into thinking that green rock in his bag is actually aventurine and not jade. When I bring him to you please give him the bag, it contains the pieces of actual aventurine, he'll need it." Sunday: "Yep, got it! You want to betray Aventurine because you hate him, and this green rock is aventurine, and I'll give him his bag to mock him because there's nothing valuable in it. Ok thanks bye!"

That's how that "betrayal" scene went, right? He just tells the truth, allowing Sunday to delude himself.

When Sunday asks whether Ratio is prepared to betray Aven for knowledge, he answers that there are things more important for him than knowledge. So it's basically a longer way to say "no".

"…you ought to realize that a competent scholar knows their position and wouldn't forsake more vital matters for the sake of petty pride."

Sunday ignores this and proceeds. Then Ratio directly tells him that aventurine is in the bag.

"...that Cornerstone has been in your hands from the very beginning"

Sunday finds jade, convinced that it's aventurine.

Then Ratio just tells Sunday what Aventurine is going to do, because at this point why not? Sunday is clearly living in his own world, and he only hears what he wants to hear.

"Then he makes up some trivial excuse, downplaying the matter, and requests the gift money. This is a gamble, one he's all too familiar with, betting on your single misstep leading to a total loss."

And Sunday is like, yeah, whatever.

#honkai star rail #my stuff #dr ratio #hsr sunday #aventurine #I imagine ratio seething inside #like for god's sake mr sunday #the laziest students in my gemology 101 course would know it's a jade #what are you doing #you totally deserve to be duped

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tornado1992 · 2 months

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Saw someone exploring the “Miles means gift from god” take. Magnificent.

Apparently something about the Chaos Emeralds creating Tails for Sonic, a “gift from god” in all its sense, I really want to see how this concept develops.

Now, kind of a previous concept here on my side, some think about the Chaos Emerals giving Sonic his little brother… have you heard about the Law of equivalent exchange?

Maybe the Emeralds didn’t create Tails, they didn’t give him to Sonic, but they did give Sonic unmeasurable power, a god’s gift, a way to change the world, and Sonic did change the world, he saved it.

That kind of power doesn’t come for free. He used that power. He has protected and saved countless lives over and over with that power. He saved the world with that power. The chaos emeralds gave him a literal divine gift, it’s only fair they take something as valuable from him isn’t it?

The Chaos Emeralds giving him Tails… What about the chaos emeralds taking him away?

#haha this definitely has nothing to do with a previous fic of course not #sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #sonic and tails #unbreakable bond #they are cosmic truth #they’re brothers your honor #broken bond sunday #wrecked sonic and tails sunday #wrecked war sonic and tails weekend #because what could the emeralds take that sonic would value as much as everyone does to the world #his speed? his freedom? there was only one answer and they knew it was none of those #they had to take the only thing he would choose over everything else

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no-psi-nan · 1 month

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Kuboyasu finds out that Saiko doesn't know what Legos are because he's only ever used money as building blocks, so he takes his Lego collection to Saiko's mansion.

Of course, by the time he gets there, Saiko has not only cleared out the 5 nearest toy stores of their Lego supplies but also hired a civil engineering firm to make a huge insane money diorama, a rainforest theme with cash monkeys and coin-encrusted bugs.

Kuboyasu can't help but be impressed by the building techniques, but of course he also insists that Saiko didn't do any of that himself and would completely fail to make anything interesting if it was him.

Naturally Saiko accepts the implicit challenge and they have a build-off.

Kuboyasu tries to make his motorcycle out of his beloved old Legos but he doesn't have enough of them to make it life-sized. Luckily, he manages to goad convince Saiko to let him use some of the new Legos he'd bought.

Meanwhile Saiko is fighting for his life because while he watched the engineers build the cash diorama and remembers the techniques they used to make certain shapes and joins, he just doesn't have the practical experience or dexterity to recreate most of them. He struggles to create something fancy for a good long while, then gives up and decides to just go big with the basic stacks he already knows how to build.

To no one's surprise, Saiko gets himself into trouble trying to make a money Tower of Babel, no matter how much his staff tried to discreetly help him (he had banned interference). He has a tumble off the top of the collapsing tower, and Kuboyasu automatically lunges across the room to catch him.

When Saiko lands in Kuboyasu's arms, their eyes meet and they have a certified yaoi moment. Once Kuboyasu gets back to his senses, he coughs and puts Saiko down gently onto his feet. He tries to brag that since he'd finished his motorcycle and Saiko's creation had collapsed that he'd won their little contest.

But then Saiko points out that Kuboyasu had accidentally knocked over his own motorcycle in his rush, and the Legos were scattered all over the floor. Kuboyasu stares in dismay, then gets pissed off when Saiko smugly points out that his fallen money sculpture has settled into mounds that quite resemble the Andes mountains.

"Andes nuts," replies Kuboyasu grumpily.

They get into a scuffle over this, naturally. Boys will be boys...

#Saiko Sunday #inspired by mar of course #saiko metori #kuboyasu aren #saiki k #saiki no psi nan #sknpn #the disastrous life of saiki k.#tdlosk #nopsi nonsense #nopsi's promptsies

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fidjiefidjie · 1 month

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Le Dimanche ... c'est sport ! 🏃‍♀️‍➡️🚶‍➡️

😁 🍕 🤣

Source: Gilles Bo

👋 Bel après-midi

#funny video #humour du jour #short video #dimanche #sport #course #cute #sport day #sunday sport #funny #drôle #bel après-midi #fidjie fidjie

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afewproblems · 9 months

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Something Spicy (a first ever attempt at it!) based on a prompt from this list!

Also! If you were tagged in this but are not in the mood for Spice, please feel free to ignore!!

***

Eddie bites his lip as Steve lifts his hips enough to shimmy his boxers down his legs, the last piece of clothing separating them finally gone.

He takes a second just to stare, taking in the bright red flush that paints Steve's cheeks and the top of his chest, only just visible through the hair.

Steve's eyes are glazed as he blinks once slowly, and smiles up at Eddie; awareness fights against the space that Steve has begun to sink into with just a few words.

"Colour, sweetheart?" Eddie says lowly as he finally reaches out to trace his fingers gently from Steve's cheekbone down to his jaw.

"Green," Steve mumbles after a minute, he blinks again and smiles. His hazel eyes crinkle at the edges just slightly before he brings up a hand to hide them.

Well Eddie can't have that now.

He reaches out again to firmly grasp at Steve's wrists and lifts them up above his head, he presses them down into the pillow, crossing one arm over the other.

"No touching, wanna see your beautiful face sweetheart," Eddie whispers as he leans down and captures Steve's lips in a soft kiss.

He pulls away as Steve opens his mouth to deepen it, "Ah, ah, not yet".

Steve huffs but doesn't move from his position, his chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm as Eddie sits up.

God, I could eat you up. I love you so, Eddie thinks before his brain catches up to the words and his expression twists.

Weird, and way too soon.

They've only been friends for the last six months since everything with Vecna and the Hawkins rebuild, and this thing between them is even more recent, fragile.

They've never really talked about it, only sharing soft kisses and endearments under the cover of night and the quilt on Steve's bed.

How would Eddie even go about doing so?

'Hey man, I think you're a great guy and I love fucking you, and you fucking me, and I think we should continue to do that forever if you'll have me?'

Definitely not.

Instead he says, “I'm gonna count every single one of those moles with my lips".

Close enough.

Eddie watches Steve shift slightly, his cock twitches in interest and the rose blush deepens in colour.

Eddie has ignored it entirely, since the boxers came off, and he has no plans to give it any attention just yet.

"You can stay still for me can't you baby?" Eddie asks slyly, as Steve nods, his chest rises faster now in anticipation as Eddie swings a leg across to straddle his thighs.

Eddie ignores the way his own dick brushes Steve's and the gasp they both let out at the brief contact.

He crawls up on his hands and knees and begins to hunt for freckles and moles with his mouth, leaning down to kiss along Steve's neck.

The kisses are soft at first, the barest press of lips to warm skin.

But before long Eddie is tracing his tongue along Steve's collarbone, connecting each mark in spit as he sucks bruises into tanned skin.

He feels punch drunk at the noises Steve makes below him and his own dick throbs as it continues to barely brush against soft skin and sheets.

Eddie sits up again as he finally finds himself between Steve's legs, which fall open slightly to accommodate him.

"Colour, baby," Eddie breathes out, his voice rough as he leans down and grasps at Steve's hips. He rubs little circles with his thumbs into the sharp points of Steve's hip bones and knows he'll never get tired of this.

"Green, so green," Steve blurts out impatiently as Eddie pushes his hips down into the mattress with a smirk.

"Good," Eddis says softly as he leans down to rub his nose along Steve's shaft, biting back a grin at the small moan Steve lets out.

Eddie places a few feather light kisses around his thighs as he gently taps underneath Steve's legs until he lifts them enough for his knees to be angled, his feet flat against the bed.

"Can you be good for me Stevie," Eddie murmurs, his voice pitches up into a laugh as Steve nods rapidly this time, "I need words lo--"

Eddie closes his mouth with a snap, he watches Steve's face for the smallest change of expression, the barest hint of recognition of the words.

He has to keep a better handle on this, it's too soon to be using words like that.

Steve smiles at him, he looks utterly debauched and thankfully far away as he tries to keep his breathing steady, "wanna be good," he manages to say before his eyes flutter shut.

Eddie breathes a sigh of relief, and grips his thighs with soft fingers, squeezing them once, "don't come until I say so".

"Yes," Steve whispers as Eddie leans down and takes him into his mouth, letting his tongue swirl around the weeping head.

He swallows around Steve as he takes him deeper, Eddie lets go of Steves hips, letting them stutter once, twice, as he fucks into Eddie's mouth.

"Oh, Eddie baby, can I?" Steve asks breathlessly, his hands are still above his head, clenching into fists as though to stop himself from threading his fingers in Eddie's hair.

Eddie hums around Steve, pretending to consider it. He wants nothing more than to let Steve fuck his mouth, to pull his hair and pin him down but today is about Steve. Helping him float away this time.

He shakes his head and pulls himself away, letting the flat of his tongue drag over the underside of Steve's cock.

"Patience sweetheart," he keeps his voice steadier than he feels as he lifts his hands to press on the back of Steve's thighs again, guiding their movement until his knees are pressed into his chest.

"Keep those there," Eddie says firmly, "use that core strength you're always bragging about," he smirks as Steve scoffs at him.

"If you get tired, use your hands baby," Eddie relents after a beat.

Steve nods silently, though his hands remain diligently above his head.

Eddie grins, his heart aching at how much he loves this man, and blows gently over Steve's hole, watching as it clenches at the sensation.

He leans forward pressing soft kisses against Steve that get progressively wetter as he begins to lick around the ring of muscle. Eddie closes his eyes and focuses on the repeated, 'oh, oh, oh,' sounds Steve is making as he pushes the flat of his tongue against him, mimicking the rhythm.

Eddie stops just long enough to suck on two fingers before lowering his hand to press the slick digits slowly inside.

Eddie groans as his fingers disappear into the warm, wet, heat of Steve's hole; he scissors his fingers and shifts to take Steve into his mouth once more. He feels his fingers brush against Steve's prostate and hums at the long punched out groan Steve makes.

"Oh, God," Steve moans loudly, he turns his head to the side and breathes out, "Eddie, I can't--"

Eddie removes his mouth again, "it's okay baby, you're allowed," he says softly before swallowing down Steve's length once more. Eddie groans as he begins to hump the sheets beneath him, desperate for some kind of friction against his neglected length.

Eddie begins to pump his fingers in and out, making sure to stroke his prostate in time to the bobbing of his head. Steve's legs fall open as he finally lowers his arms to thread his fingers through Eddie's hair.

Yes, Eddie thinks to himself as Steve's hips begin to buck up, the heavy cock on his tongue a welcome weight. Eddie's eyes close, uncaring of the fact that Steve is no longer holding himself in position.

Eddie loses himself in the feeling of Steve fucking his mouth, the hard head of his cock repeatedly hitting the back of Eddie's throat, the firm hands holding his head in place, the way Steve begins to babble a mixture of praise and moans is just too much for him.

"Yes baby, oh fuck," Steve pants, "let me fuck you, yes, God--"

Eddie feels his last vestiges of control snap as he tumbles over the edge, cuming into the sheets as Steve keens loudly, tugging Eddie's hair once more as follows after him.

Eddie swallows, continuing to suck and lick at Steve's length until the hands in his hair gently push his face away. Eddie snorts a tired laugh at the whine Steve makes as he removes his fingers.

"How was that," Eddie hums, his head buzzing pleasantly as he flops onto the bed and rolls over onto his back.

"Perfect," Steve sighs, sitting up and flopping beside Eddie, he has the widest smile on his face and Eddie can't look away.

"Did you float baby," Eddie mumbles as a sudden wave of exhaustion hits him, he turns his head to the side to face Steve and blinks slowly, smiling as he feels a soft hand brush his hair away from his forehead.

"Almost," Steve says softly as he leans down to press a kiss to Eddie's nose, "thank you for doing that for me love".

Eddie hums, he's sure that Steve said something important just now, but he can't help but let himself drift, weightless and sated.

"Anything for you Stevie," Eddie yawns as his eyelids flutter once, twice, before they close.

Eddie feels Steve settle beside him; he knows they should get up, clean themselves and change the sheets if they want to avoid a mess in the morning.

But as Steve hums softly, running his hands over Eddie's sides, the gentle rhythm lulling him further into a doze, Eddie lets himself sleep.

Knowing when he wakes, he'll be met with warm hazel eyes and a warmth he hasn't felt with anyone else in a long time.

Permanent tag list (and maybe a few people who I think might like this? Though if you aren't in the mood for spice, please feel free to skip!)

@eriquin @luvinthefreaks @steves-strapcollection @flowercrowngods @steddierthings @strangersteddierthings @outpastthebrakers @steddie-there @stevesbipanic @henderdads

#sweet and spicy #it is smutty sunday #the spice is there but its not like off the chart #this is fluffy too #steddie #of course #steve and eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #afewproblems writes #steve x eddie #based on a prompt #first ever attempt at actual smut so i hope its decent

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