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#then i ran over here
lover-of-mine · 7 months
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If all it is is eight letters, why am I in my own way?
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medouse · 3 days
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there are many. many things. i could say about heracles kindness. but its also the kind of thing that would get him to kill me so maybe i shall keep that to myself for now. but yeah you certainly are zeus' son alright.
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stevebabey · 1 year
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love as sweet as honey (and lover, i’m hungry)
a/n: u can read me for literal filth in this piece, i won’t even lie to u lmao. it’s disgustingly full of praise and petnames and steve’s biggest turn on is being told he’s loved <3 big ups to em (@familyvideostevie) for literally being the reason this got written at all & if u haven’t guessed by now, practically ever single idea i have is consulted by kenny <3 (@hawkinsindiana) also thank u steve stans for being my cheerleaders love u guys sm (@spideystevie​ @harringtonbf) & sanne too (@sanguineterrain​) bcos talking w you helped sm <3
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word count: 6.9k hehe summary: One Sunday, filled with too many kisses to count and a sureness in your heart that you are entirely in love with Steve Harrington. You tell him him for the first time in a flurry of love and lust, tangled in his sheets. [established relationship + smut, praise, petnames, + first i love you + fem!reader] MINORS DNI this piece contains nsfw content and is intended for 18+ readers. 
It was often a question on your mind: How does one know when they’re in love?
For you, it was as easy as a Sunday. 
When you wake on this Sunday morning, it’s in Steve’s arms. You’re in his bed, intertwined beneath the sheets and warmed by more than just the sun that peeks through the gap in his curtains. The room glows golden. His warmth creeps under your skin and his love finds you even when he sleeps, still snoozing against the pillow when you drift into consciousness.
He’s beautiful. Soft brown curls that crumple against the pillow, long lashes that you know even the girls at Hawkins High were envious of, faint barely visible freckles that hide under his tan. He’s beautiful and he’s yours. It makes you giddy to even think that. 
You wake him with a kiss. It’s gentle, soft lips against the dozen tiny white scars on his cheek. Steve hums, a low sound in his throat, and even that makes you smile.
“Steveeee,” you whisper, cheek pushing against the pillow as you grin, unable to stop yourself. Grins come so damn easy with him.
Steve makes another noise, high and sweet, and snuggles closer to the pillow. You shuffle closer and dot another kiss on his face, this one on his nose. It scrunches up at the contact and finally, he drags his eyes open. You can read nothing by adoration in them.
“Mm,” he hums again, then speaks in that delicious raspy morning voice that drives you crazy. You wonder if he knows just how much it affects you. “Good morning to you too.”
His arms tighten around you, inching you closer until you’re pressed against him. He uses the closeness to bury his face against yours, nosing along your neck and placing sweet pecks paired with content sighs. You’re bundled together, lovers in the morning sun.
It’s cut short far too soon. Steve gets whisked away to his Sunday shift at Family Video and leaving you pouting, with a kiss in the doorway. He looks soft, with his hair still messed up from bed and a handsome grin adorning his face.
You smooth down the collar of his shirt, a nice navy long sleeve, and let your hands linger. You almost consider telling him to skip work and follow you back up the stairs, eager to jump his bones then and there. The side-effect of getting to see him in the morning, voice low and eyes lovely. You give yourself a quiet pat on the back for your self-restraint when you hold the thought, at least til later.
“Wish I could spend all day with you,” Steve says wistfully, planting a quick kiss into your hair. He’s stalling leaving, knowing he’ll be late if he dawdles much longer; Steve never can bring himself to leave on time when you’re here. Not when you kiss him in the doorway like it’s a promise you’ll be there when he gets home.
You smile cheekily. “Well, someone’s gotta be the breadwinner of the family. That’s the whole reason I’m with you, no?”
You tease, raising your brows with a smirk and Steve snorts, hands tugging you closer.
It’s a reference to some absurdly jealous girl who’d been head over heels for Steve since first glance in the Hawkins High’s Halls. As a result, his relationship with you had been viewed merely as an obstacle to getting with the love of her life. She’d gone to his work one day to try her luck and leaned over the counter on one of his shifts, shirt unbuttoned to reveal her cleavage. Then she expressed her heartfelt concern with a coy whisper.
“Steve, I hate that I’m the one who has to break it to you,” She’d said, voice all sweet and breathy as she cast a look at you across the store where you’d been joking with Robin. Steve’s brows had scrunched in confusion, following her gaze, unsure where she was going with this.
“But I’ve heard... just through the grapevine, that she’s totally with you for the money.” She had shaken her head, like she was ashamed of you, and plastered on her most sympathetic look, doe-eyed and entirely insincere. Laid a hand on his arm with a pout. “I’m so sorry you had to find out from me.”
Steve had barely been able to cover his laugh with a cough, ducking his head to hide his grin. Is that so? He wanted to ask, just to see how far she’d take the lie — Steve knew for a fact what she said wasn’t true.
Because you’d been there the day Steve’s father had cut him off for good, with a slap on the wrist and a few too many mean words aimed in spots he knew would hurt. But you’d been there. You’d kissed him softly, said so what? so earnestly he knew you meant it, and then pulled up the newspaper to help him begin searching for jobs without missing a beat.
“Mmhm,” In the present, Steve chuckles, his hand stroking down your arm as he continues the joke. “Total gold-digger you are. Everyone knows it.”
And then he’d left with you another kiss and a promise he’d be by your house just after six, when he finished his shift, to take you out to the movies. You busy yourself in his absence and try not to count the hours. Per his word, Steve swings by just after six, greets you with a kiss, and the two of you cozy up in the back of the theater for a film.
From there, the tension builds, hanging around you like a soft-scented perfume that you can’t shake and only fuelled by Steve’s lingering touches — ones that let you know he’s more than on the same brainwave as you. A finger drawing a line up along your thigh, a kiss too hot on your neck, his hands getting too adventurous for public.
So, when you tumble through his front door together and it quietly snicks shut behind you, there’s a quiet moment where Steve turns back to you, brows raised. Tension stains the air between you.
He’s so fucking handsome, you think. You want to kiss him stupid.
His cheeky smile grows slowly as if he knows exactly what is on your mind.
His hand moves to cradle your jaw, his lips pressing against yours hotly and without meaning to you back up and let him press you against the door. Steve groans softly into the kiss, his other hand coming up to grasp at your side, grip just a bit too tight. It gives away how wound up he really is. You crave the feeling it gives you.
It’s a flurry, his lips kissing, kissing, kissing, til you’re breathless and his hand is higher, thumb tracing higher on your ribcage, skimming but never quite where you want him. Your stomach hums, excitement dancing and stirring up til you’re sure the taste of his lips is your favourite in the world.
After a minute of fervent kissing, Steve finally breaks away with a pant, but his lips don’t stop. They trail down, a soft kiss on your cheek and then one your jaw, your neck. Your head tips back instinctively, giving him easier access. He hums appreciatively.
“Y’so fuckin’ pretty,” He breathes against your skin, quiet enough you wonder if you were meant to hear it. He dives back in, nips at your skin, and you feel his lips pull into a devilish grin when you keen at the lovebite, a soft noise passing your lips. Fuck, he’s always so good at this.
There will be a hickey there tomorrow, no doubt about it. But when his lips reattach and he gives a gentle suck on the skin of your neck, followed by the soothing sensation of his tongue, you really can’t bring yourself to care. Want builds in your stomach.
Your hands struggle to pick a place to fixate on, flitting from his chest to up around his neck. You decide on the latter and wind your fingers in his hair. When he scrapes his teeth against your neck, a little mean, you retaliate with a tug on his hair.
A groan warbles out his throat, a delicious noise that makes your stomach a little warmer, thighs clenching a bit.
With his pause, you seize your chance and tug his head back again gently and Steve lets it fall back, exposing the column of his throat to you. You dip in, dragging your lips against it, and grin when Steve lets another groan tumble out, the vibrations reverberating into you where you lips touch his skin.
You pause, just to tease him. Don’t make a move. Your breath fans out across his neck and Steve tenses, a vein standing out in his neck, his patience waning within seconds.
“Don’t tease,” He warns, voice raspy, but he already sounds a bit wrecked.
Then his hands reignite, as if he’s just remembered them, and the one cupping your jaw moves downward, fleeting touches against your boob that have you gasping against his skin. He kneads the flesh and pinches your nipple, his other hand gripping your hip tight.
Your lips find his throat again, a soft kiss that turns hard and hot. You kiss up along the skin, pull his hair a little, and find that sweet spot under his ear that you know he loves.
Steve lets out another groan, his hand dropping so he can grip your hips on either side and he presses himself against you. His knee navigates between your thighs, an enticing pressure that makes you quiver for a moment — you suck harder on his neck in retaliation.
His groan turns into a borderline whine as he inhales a sharp breath. Against your thigh, his hardness presses into you, giving away just how riled up you’ve got him.
“Sweetheart,” he rasps, between a pant. “Y’gonna kill me.“
His fingers pulse tighter against your hips for a moment. He drops his head forward, his forehead touching yours. “Let me take you upstairs, yeah?”
You force yourself to drag yourself away from his kiss-bitten neck, a grin curling at your lips.
“Jeez, at least buy a girl dinner first.” You jest, just to make him laugh. Like he hadn’t bought you dinner and paid for the movie tickets as well, because he loves to spoil you.
He does laugh, with a huff and a poorly concealed smile. His hands slide from your hips, wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to him.
Like you can sense it right before he says it, some stupidly cheesy line, one of your hands shoots out to cover his mouth.
“Whatever you’re thinking of saying,” You say, voice doused in amusement. “Don’t.”
Steve’s eyes dance in delight and before you predict it, the wetness of his tongue splays against your palm and you squeal, winding it back.
“Save that for later.” You tease, scrunching your nose as you exaggeratedly wipe your hand against his shirt. Steve doesn’t seem to care, his feet beginning to backtrack, and bundled in his arms, you go with him.
“I hope you mean now.” He murmurs playfully, voice dipping a bit lower, just to turn you on, and it sends a delightful shiver down your spine. You speed up your footsteps, the itch to get him between the sheets increasing.
He spins, releasing his grip but still grasping one of your hands in his. Your footsteps thunder up the stairs behind Steve, a giggle of anticipation slipping out and nipping at your heels that pushes you both faster. Steve nudges the door open hastily, and in a flurry, your back meets his sheets.
The warmth of his body is a weight you’ll always welcome, especially when Steve’s lips trail back along your throat. His teeth sink in, his mouth hot and wet, kisses that draw a thread of breathy noises from you. His hips cant into yours, a slow roll that has your thighs falling further apart automatically, the beginning of a whimper forming.
His hands tangle with the edge of your shirt, fingertips skirting under. They’re hot, burning against your skin.
He halts his kissing for just a moment, to pull back and pant, “Can I?”
You’re nodding before he can even get the question out. He tugs it up, the fabric sliding up and the smoothness of the motion leaves you a bit breathless. Steve stares down at you, eyes a mixture of affection and a hunger for more.
“You,” his large hands splay against your bare stomach, one moving up and sketching a line of heat where his fingertips linger. He leans close, lips scratching a kiss into your collarbone. Whispers his sweetness into your skin. “You’re so fucking beautiful. M’so lucky. How’d I get you all to myself, hm?”
The question makes your body hum, like a live wire, your knees tightening around his hips. Your hands clamber up around his neck and you tug his head up, claiming his lips with your own. You grind your hips back up against Steve, pleasure licking up your spine at the feeling of his hard cock dragging against you.
“Please,” you tease, words a bit breathy. “Everyone knows I’m with you for the money.”
Steve faux gasps, a laugh slipping through his facade at the inside joke you both share. He pulls back a bit, a pout on his pink lips, sheened with spit. He’s sitting up now, hair already a bit ruffled, handsome face housing a grin you love so dearly.
“Is that so?” He asks, brows raised.
You nod, a giggle tittering out before you stop it. Steve can’t help his smile, a quiet joy quelled beneath his lust over the fact you’re both so comfortable with each other. Laughing in bed, jokes in between the moans — Steve feels his stomach pool hotter, his love for you somehow still ever-growing.
“Take it back.” He demands, dropping down closer — his hands plant on either side of your head.
You squirm against the bed, trying to grind up against him again but it’s futile, he’s pulled back too far. Steve grins deviously. You arch your chest out and give Steve your best bedroom eyes, lids low and eyes dark.
“Take this off first,” You counter, hands tugging on the ends of his own shirt. Steve doesn’t need to be told twice.
It’s nearly as smooth as the removal of your shirt had been, his toned arms twisting to yank the fabric up — until it gets caught on his head. Steve makes a surprised noise and decides to tug it harder, his arms caught above his head, face hidden in the fabric. You laugh without meaning to.
Steve tugs again, managing to free himself but not before he topples sideways and disappears in the mass of his duvet with an oof!
You laugh loudly, covering it behind your hands, and roll in his direction, amusement dancing along your features. Steve’s head pops up, hair properly mussed now, and he grins. His hand clutches the meddlesome shirt and he flings it behind him mindlessly. It lands on his bedside table, hanging off the lamp.
“Where were we?” He asks, with a wiggle of his brows.
You shift up and swing your leg across his lap, seating yourself atop him and the shape of him makes you hiss pleasantly. Hands creeping up his bare chest, teasingly slow, you smile and it borders a smirk. “I was… taking it… back?”
Your voice is coy, tone doused in suggestiveness as your nails dig in and rake back down his chest. Beneath them, you can feel the rumble of his groan and he wastes no time in getting his hands back on you. His fingers find the waistband of your pants, dipping in and you suck in a breath instinctively.
He doesn’t even get to ask before you’re nodding, already anticipating his question. Steve smiles, guides you down and peppers kisses along your neck with a half-hearted hum— all the while, his other hand works open the button of your jeans.
“Steve,” you say breathily. You don’t know what you’re asking for, why you’re saying his name, just that it’s right.
“Y’good?” He asks, hands not stilling but not delving any further into the confines of your pants. When you nod, fervent and a bit too enthusiastic, his tone turns a bit heavier. “You gonna be good f’me, yeah?”
The whine that comes out of you in response takes you by surprise, body reacting with a filthy grind down against him. Steve doesn’t even get a chance to look smug, pleasure shuttering across his face as he tilts his head back.
“Fuck,” he says, hands tight on your hips. He guides them, pulling you harder down against himself and bucking up. He presses into you at the exact angle to have you keening, a happy sigh tumbling out your throat. “Fuck.” He huffs against, voice strained.
“Please do just that.” You say, a bit cheeky, grinding down harder just to make him moan properly — his head buries further in the pillow, eyes clenched closed for just a moment and the sound he makes travels right to your cunt.
Steve grapples to control himself, his chest beginning to heave. He manages to respond, voice still smooth in that way you’ve learned is his specific Harrington Charm.
“As you wish, honey.”
And god, if that doesn’t do something to you.
You can’t deny how much it turns you on when Steve manhandles you, a swift turn of your bodies where you find yourself back on your back with Steve hovering above you. His hands toy with the edge of your jeans, shimmying them down and discarding them somewhere behind you both.
You pant a bit, stomach stirring at how Steve gazes at you — the way his fists clench slightly give away his utter desire for you.
“You’re entirely overdressed.” you rasp, aiming for seductive but accidentally landing closer to whiny.
A glow raises in your cheeks, face hot, but Steve seems to revel in your words, his hands making hasty work of his belt. Unwittingly, your mouth waters a bit.
He sheds the extra layer in a moment, leaving him in just his boxers. You take a moment to recognise them, the Batman logo printed all across them. He clearly hasn’t meant for you to see them. For the second time tonight, you laugh before you can suppress it.
“Hey,” Steve jabs a finger at you, cheeks a bit pinker than they were a second ago. “It’s laundry day, okay?”
It’s a bit meek, said too feebly for you to actually believe. You raise your brows and wait for him to crack. It takes only another moment.
“Oh my god, fine,” he sighs dramatically, scrubbing his hands down his face. He drops them and then away at his sides, his face still warm. “I didn’t want to assume I’d get to fuck you tonight. They were at the top of the drawer, alright?”
Your heart does a little kick at that. Your wonderful, hot, never-presumptuous boyfriend that you fucking adore — it never manages to not astound you with the new way he turns you on.
“Then clearly,” you begin, wiggling closer. Your legs move up, circling around his hips and you cross your ankles at his tailbone — and urge him closer, feeling your own wetness stain against the final layer on your cunt.
Steve’s cock fits snugly between your folds and he gives a delicious grind, brows scrunching at the sensation. You fight to keep your voice steady as you continue, “You don’t know me that well.”
Steve huffs, some half growl escaping his lips. He sneaks his fingers under the band of your panties on either side of your hips and begins to pull down. They slide down your thighs, tantalizingly slow, and you’re unable to do anything but watch him. Steve’s gaze turns heavier and he licks his lips, teeth sinking in to hold back another noise of approval.
Then unexpectedly, the next words out of his mouth come out in a poor french accent. “Mon dieu,” Steve mutters, already smiling because he knows you’ll laugh at this.
You do, a startled laugh— especially when Steve wrangles your panties off your ankles and repeats his earlier motions of the night, sending them flying behind him carelessly.
“Steve, what are you—“
“Mademoiselle,” He interrupts, voice huskier than normal, completely on purpose.
“Oh my god,” you say in exasperation, yet the love leaks into the work, obvious and undeniable. Steve grins, thankfully dropping the voice and instead working his hands back up your body. They crawl beneath your torso, fingers searching, and make quick work of your bra. It comes away with his hands, straps scraping against your arms.
“Oh, sweetheart.” he sighs contently. Like they’ve got a mind of their own, his rough hands meet the soft skin of your boobs, kneading and thumbing at your nipples. Beneath his touch, they harden and pleasure thrums hot in your core when he twists them lightly, a gasp pushing your lips.
“Steve,” you whine hotly, pushing up against him.
“What d’ya need, honey?” He murmurs, dipping closer and restarting his kisses against your neck. He suckles gently, the barest hint of his teeth, lips soft and tongue hot.
“Y’gonna tell me what you need?” He hums, but even as he asks, one of his hands creeps downwards, landing on your thigh. He inches it closer, his thumb rubbing against the soft inside of your thigh.
The pillow rubs against your cheek as you nod fervently, turning to press your face into the pillow. Even after all this time with Steve, there’s no quelling the nerves in your stomach. But even with your enthusiastic nods, you know Steve needs your words.
“You.” The word is a bit whimpery. “Please, Stevie, s’you I need. You— your-” you cut yourself off, shyness creeping in and stealing your words.
Steve senses it, a quiet chuckle against your neck, and his fingers draw higher, til they ghost across your cunt. “Mm? Sweet girl gonna tell me when she wants?”
His words both make your face warm and your stomach flutter— he loves to goad your shyness, drinks in the reactions when you give he pushes it.
“Don’t make me say it, please.” You plead softly, resisting the urge to burrow further into the pillow.
Steve had told you early on when you’d started sleeping together in your relationship that he wanted nothing less than for you to hide away from him. I wanna see your face, okay? Wanna see everything from you. And hear all those pretty sounds you make, yeah?
A sound like the one you make now when he doesn’t make you wait, a pad of his thumb tracing down the folds of your cunt. His fingers dip in, soft touches that draw out a gasp as he trails them back up, beginning gentle circles against your clit. A fire in your belly that’s never quite extinguished burns a bit hotter. Your legs spread open further.
“Oh, honey,” he coos, devouring every reaction you give. “You’re doing so good. All worked already?”
His thumb rubs a bit rougher, circles faster, and his fingers stroke back down to your entrance. A moan punctuates the air, dragged out of your chest as one of his fingers slips inside, a stretch that has your back arching up.
“Please…” You sigh, words lost to your breathy moans as the finger pumps in and out, far too in tune with the circles on your clit for you to think straight. “So good, baby, you’re so good at this, fuck—“
Steve’s mouth moves south, his lips curling around your nipple and adding to the stream of stimulation. It’s overwhelming, the heat of his mouth and the curl of his fingers in your cunt— you can hear how turned on you are, your slick gushing against Steve’s fingers, and it only fuels the fire under your skin. You’re unbearably warm.
“That’s it,” The soft praise falls from Steve’s mouth, pausing his licking and sucking. “Good girl. So fucking wet for me, huh?”
The words inspire a lick of heat along your spine, the coil in your stomach tightening even more. Your breath staggers and you whine in response to his words. Shit, at this rate you could very well come undone before you even get him out of those stupid Batman boxers.
You wonder if this is Steve’s plan; it sure isn’t yours. You want him now.
“Anyone ever tell you,” you huff, a bit breathless. It takes effort to formulate sentences, the words coming out a bit whimpery. “What a motor-mouth you have in bed?”
Steve’s kisses work up to your collarbone, before drops one swollen kiss on your lips and smirks from above you, “In more ways than one.”
Something about the cockiness in his voice only adds to the anticipation building beneath your skin, your head lolling against the pillow as sweet noises escape your mouth.
Steve watches, eyes fixed on where his fingers sink lazily into you, curling in a way that makes your breath hitch loudly — it only serves to add to the growing heat in his stomach, blood rushing to his cock, which twitches at the sight. He groans to himself, head delirious with his desire.
His name is the only word you can seem to remember and as Steve’s fingers pump faster, precise curls, it leaves your mouth in a flurry that is all too telling about how close you are. He nearly feels bad to take it from you, nearly.
A disappointed whine draws out at the sudden removal of his fingers and Steve chuckles, a confident drawl in his voice. Your brows scrunch together in frustration, hips up twitching ever-so-slightly, searching for the lost stimulation even as your building pleasure tapers off. Asshole, you think, not meaning it even a little bit. You pant lightly.
Steve doesn’t waste a second, using his freed hands to begin to dig in his bedside table for a condom.
“Why are you laughing?” You grumble with a pout, chest still heaving. As his search proves fruitful, proven by a little aha! and the glisten of the condom wrapper, your hands reach up to cup his face and tug him back to you greedily. His hands stumble and plant on either side of you, letting you pull him in for a searing kiss. Steve hums into it with a grin.
“You’re like some sort of supervillain,” You mumble against his lips, a smile already curling at your mouth.“Laughing at my misery.”
Steve breaks the kiss, dropping his voice an octave to rumble out a spooky “Mwahaha,” that tickles laughter out of you in seconds. You thwack him lightly on the arm just so you can kiss away the pout he makes - because you know him that well.
The kiss is sweet and saturated with adoration, kisses that break off just to steal another. I love him, you think. I love him so completely. The wonderful thought melts and curls up in your mind, like a cat purring beside a fire, like it had always been there and you had only just noticed it.
It only feeds the anticipation that thrums through your body, your prior disappointment already long forgotten at the sight in front of you, at the delirious thought still spinning in your mind.
All the while, Steve’s hands shed off his boxers and make quick work of the condom. When he’s situated, his slender fingers curve around his leaking cock and give a light tug to relieve the building tension, eyes fluttering for a moment.
His other rests on your thigh, soothing subconscious touches; Steve never could keep his hands off you for long. His eyes trail up, committing each detail of you to memory.
Seeing you like this, Steve swears it never gets old; he could find sunsets in the curves of your skin and melodies in every moan. It’s vulnerable, exposing yourself to him and trusting him, all the same, to take care of you. And fuck, if he doesn’t love taking care of you.
But tonight, you have a particular moonstruck look on your face. Enough to make him pause, thumb skimming atop your thigh. “What?” He asks, with a hint of a chuckle.
Your cheeks grow a bit warmer and you fight the urge to hide your face in the pillow. Holding his gaze, his amber eyes which only hold endless patience and love, it’s not even a choice to tell him. The words bubble up inside, golden and sweet like you’d just taken a swig of pure ambrosia, and they spill out of you.
“S’just,” you begin, teeth scraping across your bottom lip. “I love you, Steve.”
Steve seems to freeze, his thumb halting its motions on your skin but there’s not even a moment for panic to trickle in — not when he flushes, cheeks rosy, and a pure expression of elation overtakes his features.
“You do?”
It’s nearly a whisper, uttered like he’d worried you’d take it back the moment he believed it. You’re already nodding by the time your words catch up with you, nervousness making them fall out without thought. “A lot. I love you a lot. So much. So many.”
A wet-sounding laugh splutters out of him as Steve’s face splits into a beam and he’s on you in an instant. He’s hovering above you, held up by his arms, but his face crowds in close — kiss after kiss finds its way onto your skin.
“So many, huh?” He teases before his voice drops to a murmur, words thick with emotion, and another weak wet laugh comes out. “I love you so many as well.”
You groan at his mocking and tuck your face in the crook of his neck, hiding away your giddy grin.
“Don’t be mean,” you whine but still revel in Steve’s unstoppable shower of kisses, warm and wet, one after another. “I got nervous.” 
His lips work along your neck until you’re forced to tilt your head out of your hiding place and he captures your lips with his without hesitation. It feels like home, the curve of his mouth that you could recognise in the dark you’ve kissed it enough.
“Nervous?” He asks against your lips, the question halfway between disbelief and happiness. His eyes search yours desperately, pools of affection shining in the chocolate colour of them, giving away his complete elation. “My girl.”
Another kiss, molten hot affection that melts into your skin, from Steve. Your arms tangle over his shoulders, bring him closer, til his chest scratches against yours and you’re pulling him closer, closer, you can’t get him close enough. The craving in your stomach twists up, a reminder of what your love declaration had interrupted. 
You wiggle your hips slightly, knees bending so you can slide your legs up and encircle his waist, hot skin against hot skin. You kiss him once more and nudge your nose against his gently, to halt his kisses.
“Yeah, yeah,” you tease, all too fond. “You love me, I love you. Y’still gonna fuck me, hm?” 
Steve grins, “Ouch, way to make a guy think you said all that just for the sex.”
He raises a hand to cover his wounded heart for a moment, but it settles on your thigh, pushing it back an inch. His other hand curls back around his heavy cock, lining it up with your pulsing cunt that quivers in anticipation - Steve groans a bit at the heat he can already feel.
“I already told you,” you grin at the inside joke, words all breathy. Your thighs tighten around his waist impatiently. “It’s all for the money, baby.”
Steve scoffs with a smile that melts away as he steals another kiss. His hips shift forward, burying himself in you slowly with a moan that sends shivers down your spine, fingers clutching your hips tighter. A high keening noise pushes out of you as Steve rolls his hips gently, a slow fuck into your wet cunt.
“Shit,” he curses, movements still gentle as he pulls back and sinks into you, a tortuously slow pace that has your hips moving back against him. “Honey, fuck, y’so wet, so soft.”
“Stevie,” You whimper, hands grappling for a better grip on his broad shoulders. Like he can tell what you’re asking for instantly, one of his hands travels from your hip and clasps atop yours. He tugs it off and presses it against the sheets beside your head, his large fingers moving to link with yours instinctively.
You clutch at his hand, squeezing your intertwined hands tighter as Steve begins to build his pace, your moans egging him on. His face drops lower, warm breaths fanning over your face as his other hand tugs your hips back on his cock strongly. He strokes in, giving and giving to your mounting pleasure. Your skin burns warm; your chest arches up and the nails of your free hand sink into his back. 
“So good for me, yeah?” He grunts, but it gives way to a groan as you clench around him. “My girl, my sweet girl, you feel fucking so good on my cock.”
God, him and his fucking motor-mouth. Your breath is heavy, cunt blazing warmth, and the coil in your stomach begins to burn again.
“Steve,” you mewl like it’s a praise.
“I know, I know,” He murmurs. His hand squeezes yours as he gives a particularly deep thrust, the head of his cock finding the spot inside you that makes you squirm. Makes the blood in your veins turns to pure confetti; a long moan drags out your lips and you bury it in his skin.
“Feels so good,” you cry softly, fingers flexing against his. Your hips are moving without thought, meeting his thrusts and Steve moans brokenly when your cunt flutters around him. “Y’feel so good, baby.” You praise him with a whimper.
Steve‘s arms keeping him up stutter a bit at your words, more of his weight pressing against you and you welcome it, legs tightening their grip.
“Y’so. Fucking. Good.” He punctuates each word with a thrust, fucking you harder and beginning to lose his rhythm as he chases his pleasure. “So pretty, my girl, hm? Could fuck this pretty pussy all day. Fuck, I— nothing feels as good as you, sweetheart, I swear, nothin’.”
Through your pleasurable haze, you manage to scrounge up a halfhearted joke, a soft smile peeking through on your face. “What’d I say? Such a motor-mouth.” The final word is swallowed up by your gasp.
Steve grins, not slowing his motions in the slightest. He looks fucking beautiful like this; his hair disheveled and wild, cheeks rosy, a slight sheen of sweat on his brow. 
“You love it,” He bites back gleefully — he dips his head to scrape a kiss along your neck, up your jaw. You whine as he rolls his hips into you expertly, each thrust managing to steal your breath and make your stomach grow hotter. The beginnings of your orgasm trickle in.
“I do,” you agree, fond and voice sticky with bliss. “I love you.”
Steve’s cock twitches inside you, paired with a soft moan that Steve buries into your neck. His thrusts speed up, chasing desperately as he whines, the noise pathetic and whimpery, and he clutches your hand tighter.
“Fuck, I love you too.” He says, a sloppy kiss granted on your neck, then he laughs weakly. “Please tell me you’re close too.”
“I am,” you gasp, head nodding and eyes scrunching closed as the buzz of heat swells inside you, thighs twitching and clenching around him tighter. “I am, baby, please.”
“C’mon honey,” he urges with a pant, voice strained and face wrecked, contorted in his pleasure. His free hand shifts up, pushing back your hair so he can see your face and his nose nuzzles against yours. “I know you can do it. Y’gonna cum for me? Be a good girl and cum on my cock, yeah?”
His voice turns cooing like he knows exactly what it’ll do to you to hear him beg. “C’mon, be good for me. Cum for me, honey, please,”
You tense up as his words hook into the coil in your stomach and tug, unraveling it and you with a soft cry. Legs gripping him tighter, you arch and writhe as the ache in your cunt pulses so deliciously, pleasure flooding every nerve — Steve fucks into the tightness, low whines in this throat as he chases his own orgasm.
“Say it,” he rasps, hips snapping fast and milking every second of your bliss, dragging it out as you clench around him. “Please, honey, wanna hear it.”
He says it so low, you nearly don’t hear it but you know exactly what he means. Your fingers clutch at his tighter, your intertwined hands keeping you connected and you nod, breathless, and tell him exactly what he wants to hear.
“I love you, Steve. Love you, ah, love you so much. Want you to cum for me, please,”
He falls apart, breath stuttering as he releases a desperate moan which dissolves into a kiss, soft lips scraping yours. His hips move a bit slower, jerky motions, as he clenches your hand tightly and whispers all his ardent love onto you, a dozen i love you’s between a thousand kisses.
His forehead presses against your forehead and you revel in the final zings of pleasure that rush up your spine as he slows his thrusts.
Your free hand drifts off his shoulder, soothing through his hair as all motion slows to a stop, Steve’s breath warming your shoulder. He drops his weight a bit, energy spent, and squishes against you and you make a noise somewhere between a squeal and a laugh.
“Y’good?” You ask, fingers still stroking through his hair. Wordlessly, Steve nods, chest still heaving but you can spot the gorgeous grin that graces his face, eyes closed.
Basking in the warmth of your love, you stay interwoven together. You’re warm but not just from the hot press of his body against yours; no, you gleam from the inside, pure glittering light because you love him.
You break the moment, the glow hazing out to tiredness and you free your hand from his hair to pat his shoulder softly.
“Okay, gross, you’re sweaty, get off me.”
Steve laughs, even as he peels himself off you, biceps tensing as he props himself up. “Yeah, ‘cos I just rocked your world.”
A laugh bursts out of you, though you don’t deny his words. Steve eases himself out of you gently and the stimulation makes you gasp lightly, lashes fluttering. You slump into the bed, feeling slightly melted as Steve deals with the condom and you’re fairly convinced you could just drift off in a moment. Steve doesn’t let you.
A poke on your arm. Your eyes peek open, seeing your boyfriend back in his silly little Batman boxers and a smile pulls on your lips. “Go pee.” He says.
You groan, eyes sliding shut again and he pokes you again, a jab at your shoulder.
“Go pee,” He insists, shuffling off the bed to stand up. When you make no motion to move, his hands hook around your knees and he tugs. You slide forward with a yelp and Steve grins when you frown but relent, getting to your feet. Your legs wobble for just a moment, a tad unsteady, and it only feeds Steve’s shit-eating grin.
“Shut up,” you warn, without any real heat. Steve raises his hands, not saying a word, though his chuffed expression says enough. He holds out one of his shirts — old and softened, it’s one of his old swim-team ones — and you slip into it easily. The trip to the bathroom is quick, already eager to be bundled back up in his arms and you nearly skip back to his room.
He’s in bed when you push the door open, covers pulled back, and waiting for you to join him. The slight smile on his face blooms into a grin that he pairs with grabby hands in your direction. You don’t deny him for even a moment, feet dancing across the carpet to clamber in beside him.
His arms, strong and sure, pull you against his chest and you hum contently with a smile, settling against him comfortably. Steve tugs up the duvet to cover you both. Cheek against his chest, you can hear the thump of his heartbeat easily and it eases some part of your soul, like a finger soothing down invisible hackles that raise whenever you’re apart from him.
“Can you say it again?”
He mumbles the question against your hairline where his lips rest and it turns your heart inside out, both pained and pleased that he wants to hear it as much as you want to say it.
“I love you, Steve Harrington.” You say without faltering, nuzzling closer to him. You drop one kiss on his chest, above his heart, and grin. “You totally rock my world.”
Where you expect some dramatized groan, Steve only laughs, the sound light and easy. His arms tighten around you, his lips gifting another sweet kiss atop your head. “Yeah, you too, sweet girl.”
And it makes you love him all the more.
(dis is my first smut soOOoOOoo pls do indeed come tell me how i did)
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bunnithechubs · 5 months
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and now the diner is done! :D
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okkalo · 2 months
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best big brother ever.
rindou x reader
genre(s): fluff, crack
hi, this is a tiktok trend for anyone wondering
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“if you wanna get to him, you gotta get through me first,” your possessive and bold words immediately drew rindou’s attention towards you. his lilac eyes narrowed as he confusingly tried to make sense of the situation.
rindou had been minding his own business on the couch, listening to some songs out loud. when you had come over to sit next to him, which was just a second ago, he paid it no mind. but, now you were threatening your phone camera?
as if he wasn’t already in a confused state, you turned to face him with that mischievous smile he’s come to dread. then, your hand clawed around his chin, pulling him closer to smash your lips against his.
now he was in complete shock.
before he could even comprehend what the hell was happening, you pulled away just as swiftly as you came and turned back to your phone.
“best brother ever,” you enunciated, a proud smile adorning your lips. rindou’s heart stopped. his hand immediately flew to snatch your recording phone away from you, throwing you a disgusted glare at the same time.
“what the hell is wrong with you?” his question made it hard not to just burst out laughing then and there.
“what do you mean, big bro?” you innocently asked, your tone much softer as you tilted your head at him. he hated the way his heart fooled him to feel a pang of guilt at the sight of your obvious act.
“i’m not your big bro!” he hurriedly replies, giving your shoulder a small shove. unlucky for you, he was quick to move his attention back to your phone, obviously about to delete the video.
“rindou, it’s a prank! don’t delete the video!” you hastily beg, moving to try to claim your phone back from his hands.
“i’m not letting you make people think we’re siblings,” he grumbled, practically jumping over the joke and continuing to hold the phone out of your reach. his fingers were quick to delete the video, much to your dismay. his reaction truly would’ve gone viral.
“rin, that’s a whole trend. no one’s gonna believe we’re siblings,” the whine leaves your lips, upset that he deleted something so funny. in his eyes, he couldn’t believe that you were the one pouting. still, he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of guilt.
he huffed, tossing your phone back to you. “don’t care, that was probably the stupidest thing you’ve ever said. i’m saving you face,” he claimed, moving his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer. despite his words, he was obviously trying to make you feel somewhat better.
“geez, rin, i take what back what i said earlier. you’re actually the worst brother ever,” you mirrored his huff with an eye roll, not being able to resist teasing him.
“i’m not your brother!” he immediately replied, pushing you away from him once again. unlucky for him that he’s just so easy to poke fun at.
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luvrxbunny · 7 months
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eddie would thrust his hips in time with his wrist while fingering you and close his eyes to pretend it’s his dick inside you
and he’d end up cumming in his pants at the thought
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mishy-mashy · 21 days
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Something I made in a post that I think'll be lost in the texts + expanded a bit more
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These panels are chronological events following AFO's pursuit of Yoichi's Factor.
AFO could tell if people were related through a Quirk. AFO and OFA also are connected to each other. In Kamino, AFO could confidently tell All Might that OFA had been passed on, so all that All Might had left were leftover embers.
When AFO killed Kudo, he asked where Yoichi was. He knew Kudo wasn't the holder of Yoichi's Factor at that time. He also realized when looking at Yoichi's hand that Yoichi's natural Factor was so weak he hadn't registered its existence. This implies AFO could sense Factors since he was young, and Yoichi's natural Factor never stood out to him.
Below are three panels of Bruce (right to left). Bruce fought, AFO killed him, and looked away in disinterest.
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When he beat down Bruce, he already had a sense that Bruce didn't hold the Factor anymore. That's why, rather than yell in his face to figure out where it is and interrogate for a long time, he pulled up his corpse to inspect him better.
Bruce's corpse isn't resisting anything. Look at his feet; AFO literally dragged him. Bruce is already dead. Yet he's looking for something from him.
Bruce doesn't have anything for him. Nothing AFO wants.
When he looks away, he's dismissing Bruce, because Bruce doesn't hold Yoichi. AFO is wondering where Yoichi is, because he knows now that he's out there somewhere. Thus the pensive look to the wind.
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After Bruce is killed, AFO and Garaki meet for the first time. Shinomori has Yoichi at this time, and AFO never comes close to him, so AFO is lost. He doesn't have any leads, and Yoichi has vanished.
Now that he knows Yoichi can transfer, it's possible for Yoichi to be kept out of his reach for the rest of his life. So meeting Garaki and having access to Life Force gives AFO more time to search.
Yoichi is still missing for 18 years though, because Shinomori is in hiding. AFO couldn't find him during the Fourth's turn.
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This is why, when he encounters Banjo, the Fifth and active wielder of OFA [Yoichi], AFO is smiling.
It's been a long time, but Yoichi's in reach again. He knows where he is now. And this is the first time he's encountered the current holder.
Thus his shock.
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[Yet... you never behave as I wish.]
It was the first time a Quirk wouldn't let itself be stolen. This was AFO's first encounter with this wall: it doesn't transfer without the holder's consent, and requires willpower stronger than all the holders combined to override that.
The holder is never going to give him that consent. To override the collective willpower, he's going to need something greater.
Meanwhile, look at Banjo's arms. Shinomori is the catalyst to tip OFA over the edge, that an unprepared vessel will be destroyed by how strong the Quirk is.
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Banjo's arms are both messed up below the shoulder, just like Midoriya used to be. And like Midoriya uses Blackwhip to reinforce himself and stay standing, Banjo uses Blackwhip to hold his fist / arm together. His hand is being wrapped to stay in a fist.
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(What I think is) The reason the limbs turn red, and then purple, from breakage, is a matter of blood vessels. Small, itty bitty, fragile things.
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Using OFA breaks the whole area, from bones to blood vessels, causing internal bleeding. Thus the redness. But breaking those vessels again in a second go turns the area purple, because it causes instantaneous internal bruising.
But En wasn't ripped apart by using OFA. There's a cut on his thumb that lines up with the path of destruction; AFO sliced him in half. Otherwise, he wouldn't have that cut if it were just OFA.
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It's hidden by the text in [... you never behave as I wish], but depending on where you see this chapter, you can see he got cut on the thumb. It's clearer where we see Nana take his hair from him, in [I only want... to make you mine!]
I have a post in drafts about En being cut in half rather than it being because of OFA, but I also hit an image limit, so I'm gonna end here. Ta.
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raraeavesmoriendi · 20 days
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Okay but watcher originally wasn’t going to leave the old videos up. Like that is something that they backtracked on and are trying to gaslight people about. They did an interview with Variety where they told them that they were going to slowly remove their content from YouTube.
I’m trying to figure out if you’re footstamping at me or what, but babe it’s not worth it.
they’re going to do with their videos what they deem they need to bc they’re not actually our weird friends and we don’t know them like that, they’re guys who make video series who are trying to figure out how to keep a studio afloat in a landscape currently dominated by media conglomerates owned by people like jeff bezos. that is the cut and dry of it. yeah, they probably changed their minds and reversed their earlier decision, but if anything the way people are frothing at the mouth about losing their ~comfort content~ (which. yikes don’t get me started), one would think that would be a relief.
look, I had a whole essay here but I have shit to do so, short version: watcher could have strategized and rolled this whole thing out differently, and who knows, maybe more things will change. maybe they’ll change their content output schedule for their own channel. maybe they’ll add shows or cut , or re-scale for international viewer accommodation. I’d hate to be their PR person right now. but it is what it is. if you can’t pay them, don’t. do not subscribe. literally no one is forcing you. if you wanna see their stuff that badly, find someone who can and password share. they literally said it was fine.
cards on the table, I don’t even know if I’ll be getting a sub until October, or at all, bc I’m a grad student and I have bills. but I’m not about to sit here and act betrayed and hope they fail a. because I’m an adult who understands that no matter the size of the staff, providing employee benefits and insurance costs money, as does making any kind of for-fun content in our current hellscape, and b. it’s kind of shitty to watch people turn around and act like a media company is their friends personally stabbing them in the back and betraying some grand marxist ethos when it’s literally just people who don’t have things like mousecorp and netflix behind them trying to make their shit on their own terms. I’m not going to sit here and pretend they’re some rich greedy corpos trying to wring money out of us poor broke smol beans out of malice when they’re not even in the same ballpark. they’re allowed to ask to be paid for their time and their labor. if people can’t pay them, then they can’t pay them, end of. some things we just have to go without and that’s just how it shakes out; there are worse and more critical things I could be missing out on that I will be paying that money for instead.
but I’m not about to insist their stuff be free forever because ~I want it~. because that’s not what it comes down to, in the system that we currently operate and exist under. I’m not entitled to their shit like that and frankly no one is.
watching people openly hope they crash and burn bc it won’t be free anymore just makes me chalk it up to one more shitty example of how consumer culture has just made people not think about how stuff is made as long as they can get that instant gratification, but like. water is wet, news at 11.
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penny00dreadful · 8 months
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Eddie would sing Fat Bottomed Girls to Steve every chance he got.
On stage in front of thousands with grabby hands.
In the kitchen when Steve was "just trying to cook, Eds, for Christ's sake" giving his ass a few taps in time to his singing just to see it jiggle.
In the car where Steve had literally no escape and had to put up with it with a little frowny frown because he was trying so hard not to smile.
And when Robin had suspiciously been trying to keep his attention away from the stage at their wedding, Steve knew something was coming.
Steve had been expecting something to happen because Eddie was nothing if not a performer and to have an event centred around the two of them with their closest here to celebrate, he'd be more surprised if nothing happened.
But when whatever had been playing in the background faded out and he heard Eddie's voice boom out through the speakers-
Are you gonna take me home tonight?
Steve's eyes and Robin's grin grew wide at the same time.
Oh, down beside that red firelight
He hid his face in his hands, there were already whoops and wolf whistles from their gathered guests in his direction.
Are you gonna let it all hang out?
"Oh, don't pretend to be going bashful." Robin shouted at him, to be heard over Eddie's singing. "I've had to listen to too many horny thoughts from you about this song, you're so fucking in love right now, aren't you?"
Fat bottomed girls
You make the rockin' world go 'round
Steve lifted his face, unable to hide his huge smile any longer. Robin gave him a shove in the direction of the dance floor where the crowd parted for him with nudges and slaps on the shoulder.
Hey, I was just a skinny lad
Never knew no good from bad
But I knew life before I left my nursery, huh
Eddie was in his fucking element, bouncing around the small stage like it was Madison Square Garden.
He finally caught sight of Steve, who was red faced but couldn't stop grinning as he watched his now husband wave one hand down like he was mapping out curves.
Left alone with big fat Fanny
She was such a naughty nanny
Hey, big woman
You made a bad boy out of me
He fought the urge to hide his face again, especially when he remembered just who was here.
Hopper, Joyce, Mrs. Henderson, Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair, fucking Wayne was here watching him getting sexually serenaded.
Eddie continued to sing while the Corroded Coffin boys played through with matching exasperated but delighted grins, obviously having a great time simultaneously playing and embarrassing the shit out of Steve.
He was drawn to Eddie like a magnet. He didn't even remember stepping closer but next thing he knew he was in front of the stage, a one man recipient to a show just for him.
Eddie reached out and for one terrifying moment, Steve thought he was going to touch his hair.
He did not spend hours on it this morning only for it to be messed up before one of them got to be bent over their honeymoon suite bed later that night.
Eddie seemed to have realised that too, at the last second redirecting his hand to stroke over Steve's cheek.
Oh, but I still get my pleasure
Still got my greatest treasure
Hey, big woman, you gonna make a big man of me
The stage was low and it wasn't huge so Steve was only really at chest height, but he could tell in that moment and with those lyrics, all Eddie wanted to do was thrust his pelvis in Steve's face but thankfully he kept himself on a leash even though everyone behind Steve was still whooping and hollaring.
When the song finally closed out, Eddie threw the mic behind him, not much caring where it landed. Luckily for everyone's eardrums Grant managed to snatch it up with a scowl before it clattered to the ground.
Eddie wasn't paying attention though. He'd planted one hand on either of Steve's shoulders and jumped down from the stage, trusting that he'd be caught.
Which he was.
Eddie wrapped his legs around Steve's waist and Steve had to try very hard to not let his hands wander, so instead he locked his wrists under Eddie's thighs, maybe, just maybe getting away with a little pinch to the ass that only the Corroded Coffin boys could see.
They were extremely unbothered. They'd seen it all before. They'd seen much worse before.
"You're a menace." Steve grumbled, still unable to keep his smile away.
Eddie hummed in agreement, looking down on him from his higher position. "Your menace."
"My menace."
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musubiki · 8 months
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SOME COFFY TO FUEL YOUR LIFEBLOOD 💙
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aurorangen · 7 months
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Your entire family has made a difference in the world! It’s time for you to make your own mark. You decide to take your ambition to the big city, San Myshuno. But first, you need connections and want an education. You meet your crush and a lot of other interesting people at university. You major in History but change to Psychology after learning of the disappearance of someone who means a lot to you. After graduating with a degree, you join the Detective career in San Myshuno. With your connections, you are hoping to find and reunite with them again...but that's easier said than done isn't it?
When you see Renee, all seems well with her life. She has top grades, supportive friends, loving parents - it's evident to say her life is perfect. However, beneath everything hides a troubled girl. Pressure with academics, insecurity about her love life, a difficult relationship with her brother...
Renee is determined to chase all her troubles away and start fresh in the big city. She's going to study history (which she loves) and she'll definitely meet with new people: then all her problems should be solved, shouldn't they? But mystery never escapes from Renee. From encountering the supernatural to having an uncle who works as a detective, what else is there? No, who else is there?
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moeblob · 5 months
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So I personally don't play DBD (though I think it might be fun to try but I'd be bad at it so) but a streamer I watch plays it a lot and her survival rate against Wesker players is astounding. And funny to watch. So I draw lil doodles for her Wesker interactions to put off doing other art.
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Island Assistant Noah AU, Noah stays Chris' Assistant all throughout Island + Action + World Tour... How would this version of Assistant Noah react to Alejandro's flirting?... Would Alejandro be amused, when he later learns that Noah got himself eliminated ON PURPOSE in Season 1, and Noah became 'Chris Mclean's Assistant' as a punishment? 😎
Well, honestly I imagine most versions of Noah would react to flirting with the same level of scepticism and mistrust- he's not exactly a catch, and he's aware of the fact. Having someone as conventionally attractive and evidently conniving as Alejandro display interest in someone as not those things as Noah is would be a major warning flag for anyone with any semblance of sense.
Of course, Alejandro's interest was initially a ploy to try and weasel out information from Chris' personal assistant- someone who's high enough in the pecking order of internship to at least have some rudimentary knowledge on the oncoming challenges, but unimportant enough to fly under the radar when it comes to helping the competitors- but after Noah's initial refusal, Alejandro finds himself genuinely interested in him, at least in the same curious way a scientist regards an outlying factor in their studies. Mostly because Alejandro's very much so not used to being spurned, so Noah's blatant dislike of him is enough to fuel his curiosity (similarly to how Heather's hostility to him piqued Alejandro's interest in canon).
So he goes out of his way to bother Noah at any given opportunity. Not that it's hard; due to Noah's job he's practically always somewhere on the jet, since it'd be pretty hard to, you know, personally assist someone without being in their vicinity. Noah's disgruntlement with the constant flirting isn't quite enough to warrant him putting in the effort to avoid Alejandro, however, so the two of them consequently end up spending a lot of time together. Most of which is Alejandro trying and failing to fluster Noah, or otherwise pry competition-valuable information from him. Or, as their conversations become more frequent, he tries to get Noah to disclose something about himself that isn't already apparent- to very little success. Alejandro does find out that Noah's oddly touchy about his position as Chris' PA, though, and stores away that little tid bit of information to exploit later.
Alejandro inevitably finds himself almost enamoured by Noah's caginess and his dry wit. He's surprised to find that he actually enjoys Noah's company, even when it doesn't offer him any of the advantages he initially sought out the assistant for, which is such a novel concept for him. So of course he resolves to spend more time around Noah, to try and figure out what this feeling is, and if it'll affect his stance in the competition- not at all because he wants to spend more time around the cynic, obviously.
And he inevitably becomes more and more comfortable around Noah's stoic bluntness, so much so that he starts showing hints of his true colours around Noah. To the point where the bookworm's initial distaste for Alejandro begins to thaw under the warmth of his actual personality, instead of the coldness of his "perfect Burromuerto" mask. (This is the part where mutual feelings begin to blossom, if you couldn't tell.)
Alejandro ends up spending more time with the off-screen assistant than he does with the entirety of his actual team, which grates on the producer's nerves since they don't have a lot of non-challenge footage of their main antagonist (outside of his frequent use of the confessional, that is). So, he's asked to spend less time around Know-it-all Noah and more time around his actual team, so they have some footage to work with, as Noah's PA contract prevents them from using "unnecessary footage" of him on the show; since he doesn't interact with anyone during challenges or plot-relevant moments, the editors are practically forbidden from using any of the footage Noah is in. Alejandro reluctantly complies.
And it's during this enforced bonding time with his team that the topic of Noah comes up. Owen's the one who initially comments about Alejandro spending a lot of him with his "little buddy", which absolutely doesn't (does) spark an ember of possessive jealousy within Alejandro, prompting him to ask how Owen's so familiar with Noah if he's not even supposed to interact with the contestants. Owen reveals that Noah was a contestant, at least for a little bit, before he was eliminated early in Island.
Alejandro's interest in Noah and the mysteries around him skyrockets. As a former contestant and, apparently, someone who's familiar with pretty much all of his competitors, Noah has even more potential to supply him with valuable information that would assist him in winning the million. He later chases down the cynic and confronts him about his extremely limited time on the Island, to which Noah is initially evasive about, before he- in a ticked off outburst, since Alejandro just won't drop the subject- admits that he got himself eliminated on purpose and working as Chris' PA is pretty much just his punishment for doing so.
And Alejandro's curiosity turns into confusion. Why would Noah intentionally have himself eliminated from the competition when a million dollars is on the line? Noah quickly corrects him that, in the first season, the prize money was a measly 100k, and then proceeds to explain exactly why and how he got himself booted from Camp Wawanakwa- Alejandro watches the annoyance on Noah's face gradually soften out into a smug sort of pride as he recalls his past endeavours. Then that pride is quickly wiped away by a bitter sourness as Noah recounts how his stunt essentially trapped him under the employment of Total Drama, namely Chris McLean.
But Alejandro's still caught up in the glimpse he got of Noah's scheming potential. The glee he saw in the other's eyes as he explained how easy it was to rile up his former teammates enough to vote him from the island, how just a few carefully worded comments were all it took to grant Noah an extended vacation at a five star resort.
Dots are connected; Alejandro suddenly understands why Noah's so resistant to his manipulative efforts, why Noah always seemed to clock exactly what he was attempting to do and shut it down with cold indifference or a snarky comment. The pessimist before him was his equal, at least in terms of strategy. Though how he applied his trickster mindset was a little unconventional. The archvillain is more than intrigued by now, he's utterly smitten... with the idea of having Noah as his "right hand man". Nothing more.
Alejandro's left to wonder just how much more he could accomplish within the confines of the jet if he had Noah's brilliant mind assisting him in his schemes.
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aylinaliens · 2 years
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youngwoo running away from junho after they have a moment (1/?)
youngwoo: 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️
junho: why are you running ????
+ bonus: junho running to youngwoo
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hylianane · 2 months
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My first instinct was to get pissed at him on my Zoro’ss behalf, but after some thought I’m more worried that we’re genuinely starting to fucking lose Sanji. Cause this tone and phrasing is so strangely personal? Maybe he’s trying to motivate him, but to me this feels a little more in line with the comments he was making to Jinbe earlier that feel a bit like they might be caused by the mutation…? And I understand Jinbe being worried that Zoro is taking so long with Lucci, but for Sanji to react like this is so odd, since a constant in their rivalry is mutual trust. Why the hell is he sounding like on of his own fans on powerscaling twitter.
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kayunivy · 2 months
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Sorry, but this was Shinichi's biggest act of stupidity....
He knows that Hakuba is there and yet he doesn't take any kind of care when wearing the tie and helping KID, it's so ridiculous that it's funny, but at the same time it's just depressing.
I hate how from the beginning of the story Shinichi doesn't take real care to hide his identity, I will always defend the thesis that it would be much better if he had actually faked his own death to everyone and lived like Conan without having to use a drug, which in addition to putting his life even more at risk because of the pain, he never uses it in really necessary cases but rather to see Ran.
It's ridiculous, Shinichi says that if anyone from the BO finds out that he's still alive, they can go after the people he loves BUT AT THE SAME TIME HE TAKES A DRUG PILL AND GOES AROUND SHOWING HIS FACE TO EVERYONE JUST TO BE WITH RAN AND ABANDON HER 10 MINUTES LATER. If only they had good development but NOT THAT! IT'S THE SAME THING FROM THE BEGINNING!! THIS ROMANCE DOESN'T EVOLVE, IT'S ALWAYS THE SAME THING. They can't even kiss... I just can't stand Shinichi's stupidity at random moments in the plot.
Asked me if Gosto really likes this couple or just continues because of the toxic fandom....
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