#bex writing

[deancaskiss]

it was just meant to be teasing. dean with his fourth beer in hand with a romcom playing in the background. cas sat next to him on the couch. the characters on the screen were in the middle of a cliche ‘spin the bottle’ game, and dean recklessly decided that would be a good idea; teasing cas about using one of his empty beer bottles to spin and then kissing him because they were the only two in the room. “cmere and kiss me,” dean grinned, bumping cas’ shoulder with his own. cas shook his head, eyes darting away from dean. “cmon, it’s just a kiss. movie magic. doesn’t mean anythin’,” dean teased, nudging cas again. but this time, cas stiffened, shifting away from dean and moving to get off the couch. “and what if it means something to me?” cas said, stilted and closed off. dean froze, eyes darting between cas and the movie and then cas again. then he reached out, hand snagging the sleeve of cas’ trenchcoat. “cmere,” he murmured as he gently tugged cas back down onto the couch, as closely pressed against his side as he could manage. then quieter, softer, “kiss me, cas,” and when cas leaned in, dean closed the gap to press his lips to cas’.

as it turns out, kissing cas wasn’t movie magic… it was just magic.

[babybluebex]

*claps hands together* okay SO. listen. even though i know some people dont like it, i am kind of a sucker for “tomboy character gets femmed up and male protagonist falls for them hard” cliche, and imagining that with a fem!reader (or just a kinda fem enby like myself) who’s one of eddies childhood friends SENDS me 😭 ofc no pressure!! your writing is wonderful as always and take all the time you need 🥰

𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re not exactly a girly-girl, but, after corroded coffin is booked to play prom, you decide to surprise your best friend with a dress and a confession. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: eddie munson (stranger things) x fem!reader 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: tomboy!reader, a LOT of fluff, brief blood mention 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: eek thanks for sending in this request! i had such a good time writing it!

You didn’t usually give much thought to dances or school functions, or really school at all. All of the events, be it homecoming or the Snowflake Ball or that weird assembly about saying no to drugs, were a complete snooze fest. Even prom irked you. Who would actually want to hang around the gymnasium and drink flat punch for hours and listen to whatever crappy band was hired out for the night? The concept of it never struck any flame inside you, so you never cared about it. 

Until this prom. Until Corroded Coffin. 

“How the fuck,” you started, tossing a crumb at Eddie as he strutted proudly around the lunch table. “Did you manage to get Higgins to hire your sorry-ass band to play prom?” 

“I can be persuasive!” Eddie returned quickly, dodging your crumb with a smile. “Anyway, I also told him that it would motivate me in my schoolwork.”

“How would that…” you began with a roll of your eyes. “Never mind, I don’t wanna know how you smooth-talked that away. So, you’ve got your Saturday booked up. What happened to renting Halloween, like we talked about?” 

“We can still do that,” Eddie told you quickly. “Prom officially ends at 11, then I’ve got the rest of the night for my favorite girl.” 

Your heart swept up into your throat as he passed behind you, his hand lightly trailing your shoulder. You and Eddie had been through thick and thin since meeting, way back in preschool, and he loved you like you were his sister. You, however, had something festering in your heart. 

It had happened back years ago, despite the awful buzzed hairstyle that he had rocked all through junior high. Somewhere between seventh and eighth grade, you had developed a huge crush on your best friend, one that had consumed every second of every day. And now, your last year of high school (and Eddie’s third senior year), your crush had managed to dull down to less all-consuming and more… Loving. 

You didn’t have a crush on your best friend, you loved him. And soon you would leave him for college. You worried if your friendship would survive the distance, but, the one time you had talked to Eddie about it, he had assured you that he would write and visit every chance he got. But, as the time drew nearer and nearer, it felt less likely to happen. He would get a job, you would move, and you’d never have time for each other, and, eventually, he would only be that guy you used to know.

Spending time with Eddie mattered to you, and you were only slightly hurt that Eddie would drop your plans to perform at the stupid fucking prom. He had never gone to prom, nor had you ever heard him express any interest in going, and you groaned at him. “Since when do you even wanna go to prom?” you asked. 

“Since I decided that this is my last chance to,” Eddie said, and he finally settled down in his chair at the head of the lunch table. “I’m fuckin’ done with Hawkins High, and I’m gonna graduate and leave this place in my dust. I don’t have anything to lose. Anyway, it’s a gig. I’ll get paid. We can rent Halloween and buy some snacks. Sounds like a good deal to me.” 

You crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m going,” you told him. 

“Going where?” Eddie asked, and you coughed out a laugh. 

“To prom, dork,” you returned. “I wanna see you guys perform.” 

“Really?” Eddie asked with a furrow of his eyebrows. “Prom isn’t my scene, but it’s really not your scene. Don’t torture yourself just ‘cause you wanna spend time with little ole me.” 

“What do you mean it’s ‘not my scene’?” you asked, and you stole a carrot off of Dustin’s lunch tray. The freshman gasped at you, and you jokingly mocked his gasp before giving him an exaggerated pout. “Prom can be my scene.” 

“You just don’t…” Eddie started. “Getting all dressed up and everything, I know you hate that.” 

“You’re right,” you sighed, slumping back in your chair. “But you never know, I might surprise you and show up. It’s just a Corroded Coffin gig, right?” 

“We’re gonna be playing dumb covers,” Eddie grumbled. “We were given a very specific list of dos and don’ts. No heavy metal, nothing vulgar—”

“So, you’re a cover band for the night,” you giggled, and Eddie scrunched up his face in fake-annoyance before he tossed a pretzel in your direction. It hit your cheek and fell down into your lap, and you grinned as you plucked it up and ate it. “I know how you feel about musical integrity, Eds.”

“Yeah, well, integrity goes out the window when you get paid,” Dustin chuckled, and Eddie flashed him a dirty look. “Well, doesn’t it?”

“Whatever,” Eddie said. “Fuck you guys. If you wanna show up to prom, do it. See if I care.” 

“I will,” you told him, and you stuck your tongue out at Eddie at the same time that he stuck his out at you. “And I’ll watch you care so much.”

Prom, unluckily for you, was only 3 days out. You hated the idea of dressing up for it, just as Eddie had predicted you would. You hated the whole glitz and glamour thing, and the thought of intentionally getting all dolled up with hair and makeup and some big dress and heels made you feel sick. But, you considered, it was for Eddie. You would do a lot for him, this included. 

The problem came with the dress. Dresses were scarce in your closet, let alone something really nice, and you knew that no stores would have anything like what you wanted that was even remotely in your price range on such a short notice. 

On the night, just hours short of prom, you chewed your lip as you held the phone to your chest, debating if you truly wanted to do this, and you rolled your eyes as you got over yourself. It was Eddie— you could show up in a potato sack and he’d still call you pretty. 

You quickly dialed Mike Wheeler’s number, rotating the dial as you tried to remember it. You had only ever called him once before, getting on his ass for being late to Hellfire last semester, but it wasn’t the younger Wheeler that you wanted to talk to. 

His mom answered the phone. “Hi, Mrs. Karen,” you said, hoping to sound sweet and charming. “Is Nancy around? I have a question for her.” 

“Why’re you calling me?” Nancy asked as the phone was passed to her, and you sighed. 

“You’re the only girl I remotely know,” you started. “And I need a dress.” 

“A dress?” Nancy repeated. “Why? Are you going to prom tonight? Don’t you have a prom dress?” 

“Well, no,” you started, curling the phone cord anxiously around your finger. “I, umm, wasn’t really planning on going to prom. But now I am, and, like I said, you’re, like, the only girl I even sorta halfway know. We were in Kaminsky’s class together sophomore year, and Mike’s in Hellfire, and I just… I need a dress. Anything! It could be a church dress, sundress, it could be anything. I just need help.” 

“Right,” Nancy said slowly. “Umm… Come over, I guess. I’ll see what I can do for you.” 

You had never even been over to Wheeler’s house before, and going to see specifically Nancy Wheeler felt odd. You especially felt weird walking into her pink-topia bedroom, wearing your ripped jeans and dirty Converse and flannel shirt that used to be Eddie’s but you had stolen off of him. To top it all off, of course, her only dress options were pink and/or glittery. But you weren’t going to be a choosing beggar, and you decided on one that was the least egregious. A strapless burst of light pink tulle that fell down to your calves hugged your frame, and you examined yourself from every angle in Nancy’s little white wicker mirror. 

“How is that?” Nancy asked, stepping behind you into the reflection. 

“I feel like a princess,” you mumbled, turning again to look at your back. 

“Is that good or bad?” Nancy asked, and you shrugged. 

“It’s…” you started. The dress showed off your dirty shoes and scrunched socks, but you sorta liked the way it looked. You felt pretty. “I think it's good.” 

“And if you let your hair down…” Nancy started softly, reaching out and shaking your hair out of the perpetual ponytail that it was in. Your hair was dented from the ponytail holder as it fell down, and you took a deep breath. “Maybe curled it… A little makeup… Is Eddie your date?” 

“No,” you scoffed, but you looked away from the mirror all the same. “No, his band is performing, and I was gonna surprise him.” 

Nancy suddenly got a smile on her face, like she knew something or understood you, and she said, “You’re trying to look nice for Eddie.”

“No, I’m not!” you said. “I… I don’t know. I just wanna… Look like I’m going to prom, I guess. It’ll shake him up, seeing me in a dress, it’s gonna be funny.” 

“Honey,” Nancy said gently. “It’s okay to wanna look nice for the guy you like. I mean, any girl would want that.”

“I don’t like Eddie—” you tried to say, but Nancy shook her head, her permed curls bouncing around her face. 

“Then why do you wanna look so nice?” Nancy asked. “You could’ve showed up in your jeans.” 

You frowned, examining the dress once more, and you sighed. “Okay, fine,” you mumbled. “I just… I like Eddie, I really like him, and I just… Maybe I do wanna look nice for him, whatever. Don’t judge me.” 

Nancy looked at your reflection for a few more quiet moments, and she finally said, “You can keep that dress. I never wear it.” 

The band was already performing by the time you showed up. Given, you had shown up a little late, but you were sure that Eddie wouldn’t mind. You were sure that, even if you hadn’t showed up at all, he wouldn’t have minded. 

That way, you would’ve missed seeing him in that dumb fucking suit. 

Suit was not exactly what it was. It was a tuxedo, black, with a white shirt that had some frilly bullshit on the chest. You could tell that Eddie was despising the black bowtie around his neck and the cumberbund around his middle, and you also knew for a fact that he was hating every second of having his hair pulled back into a ponytail. You almost wanted to laugh at him. Your hand came up to cover your mouth to hide your laughter, as if he could see you from across the gym. 

Eddie was standing very still as he played his guitar, some gentle-paced love song that couples all around the gym were slow dancing to. You had seen him play guitar before, and you knew that he usually played with all of the energy in his body, headbanging and jumping around. You had wiped blood off of his face before after he had rammed his head into the headstock of his guitar, even. He looked miserable, and you frowned. Poor Eddie. 

You weaved through the dancing couples to make it up to the small stage, and Eddie’s dark eyes found you in an instant. You waved at him carefully, not wanting to draw his attention away from the song for too long, but that failed in an instant. He had already missed a cord and, as his hands floundered to get back on track, he struck a sour note. 

You saw him mutter something that looked like “Fuck it”, and he pulled his guitar up and over his head before he said something in Jeff’s ear. Then, he jumped down from the stage and, smugly adjusting his bowtie, swaggered up to you. 

“Alright, cut that shit out,” you laughed as he approached you. “I can tell you’re not having a good time.” 

“Jesus Christ, am I that easy to figure out?” Eddie asked, dropping his hand from his tie. “I hate this fucking monkey suit.” 

“You look like the kid from Back To The Future,” you giggled. “That tux is hideous, Eds.” 

“Kinda felt like him too,” Eddie mumbled. “My hands stopped playing when I saw you. Holy shit, by the way! You look—”

“Hideous?” you repeated with a shrug. “I know.” 

“Beautiful,” Eddie said breathlessly. His eyes were canvassing your whole body, from your curled hair to your pink-painted lips to your dress, and even down to your scuffed Converse and scrunched-up socks. “I didn’t know you had this in you.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, reaching out and punching Eddie’s shoulder. “If I look beautiful, then you’re downright handsome.”

“I’ll take it,” Eddie chuckled lightly, and the smile dropped off of his face. “You wanna… You wanna dance?” 

“Seriously?” you asked. “Do you really wanna dance?”

“Kinda,” Eddie shrugged, and your heart jumped in your chest. “But not if you don’t want to.” 

“Oh,” you said softly. “Well… Yeah. Sure.” 

You watched Eddie swallow thickly as he took a step towards you, and your skin rippled as he put his hands on your waist. “Have you ever slow danced before?” you asked, and Eddie shook his head. 

“No,” he said. He seemed nervous, and you were taken aback. Eddie, your high-strung best friend, never afraid and always loud, was nervous. Was he nervous to dance with you? Or was he really that insecure about the way he was dressed?

“You do look really nice,” you mumbled. “Really… Seriously handsome.”

“Thanks,” Eddie said as you circled your arms around his neck. “Umm, are my hands okay here?” 

“Yeah,” you told him. After a moment of consideration, you added, “They can go lower, on my hips, if you want.” 

“No,” Eddie said. “I like holding you here.” 

You nodded, trying not to think about his words too hard. Sure, you had hugged Eddie before, loads of times, and he always threw his gangly arms around you and squeezed hard, and he never seemed anxious about it. Your heart was racing inside your chest as you moved even closer to Eddie and rested your chin on his shoulder, letting your cheek brush his neck. Your body fit against his like the most perfect puzzle piece, and you sighed lightly. 

It was now or never. “Eds?” you whispered. His grip tightened on your waist at the gentle nickname, and you started to add, “I—”

Eddie cut you off, though, in the best way he could have. He turned his head and swiftly pressed his lips to yours, lingering for just a moment before pulling away, all too soon for your liking. “Sorry,” he said quickly. “I, umm… I’ve had the biggest crush on you for a long time. A-And you’re about to leave for college, and you look so fucking beautiful— not that you don’t look beautiful every day, I actually sorta prefer your jeans and everything— and I just, I can’t hold it back any more. I love you.”

“Eddie,” you sighed heavily, your voice trembling. “I mean… I don’t know what to say to you.”

“Tell me you love me,” Eddie whispered, and he pushed a lock of your hair behind your ear. “Tell me I didn’t just fuck everything up.” 

You looked at him, entranced by his wide, dark eyes, and you leaned back in, pressing your lips to his again. His hands fluttered on your waist for a moment before he dragged you right up against him, his palms pressing flat to your back, and his lips moved gently against yours as he kissed you. Eddie was kissing you; it was your dream come true. 

As you broke the kiss, you could feel Eddie’s heartbeat flush against your chest, and you giggled softly, looking down at your swaying feet. “I love you, you dork,” you told him. 

“You still down for Halloween later?” Eddie asked hopefully, his eyebrows raising. “Watching a scary movie with your boyfriend?” 

“Yes,” you told him with a smile. “Yes, I am so down for that. As long as you let me hide during the scary parts.” 

“I’ll kiss it better,” Eddie said. “How does that sound?”

“Perfect.”

[mrsaltieri-real]

Alright! Request time! Lemme get a request with Mickey, natch, but hear me out. You and he, catching a mid-afternoon movie for a date, starts off sweet, and the theater is empty except for you both. He cannot keep his hands off you when twenty minutes after the trailers happen he realizes no one else is showing up. He teases and touches till you give in and let him fuck you in the theater. Some risky, public, try to keep it down, don't get caught sex in the theater. Passionate, needy, messy, some begging, make it so, so good just like I know you will.

When Boredom Strikes (Mickey Altieri x Fem!AFAB!Reader)

You and Mickey have an afternoon date at the movies, but boredom quickly consumes him, forcing him to find alternate ways to entertain himself.

Word Count: 3k

Warning/s: language, smut, p in v, slight degradation, fingering, public/semi public sex, praise, begging, almost caught fucking, teasing, thirsty Mickey, riding, ect.

Bex Bex BEX. You know damn well what this request has done to me these last couple of days. I’m happy to oblige. Here we go!

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Mickey stood with his arm casually slung around your shoulder as he eyed the movie options up on the board, pulling a face at every single one of them. “Fuck, there’s really no halfway decent movies.”

You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend, looking up at his dramatically disgusted face. “Well, whose bright idea was it to ditch class to come watch a movie in the middle of the afternoon, Mick?”

He glanced down at you, his pretty brown eyes playfully amused and a smile lit up his face as he lifted your chin with his finger, ducking his head down to peck you lightly on the lips, in which you eagerly reciprocated. “We missed our last date because I had to edit my short film and you’ve got a packed schedule for the rest of this week so I didn’t really have much of a choice now, did I?” He pointed out, reluctantly moving his face away from yours.

You nodded your head a little as you looked up at the board yourself, eyes scanning the cheesy rom com movies, every single one of them containing the exact same main plot point of a girl who didn’t realise love was right there all along. You knew Mickey hated these sort of movies with a passion, claiming they had no depth and no entertainment value whatsoever.

Being with a film geek like Mickey meant you were subjected to listen to his intensely angry ramblings about how cinema was quote “going down fucking hill,” and how there’s “nothing like the classics anymore.” You’d listen to him with a cocked eyebrow and watch him as he would rifle through his seemingly never ending cases of illegally pirated films that varied from action to mystery then to his personal favourite, horror.

As much as you loved him, you never quite understood his affliction with horror movies. Sure, you enjoyed them, but you’d see the intense excitement in his eyes as he watched some blonde girl with big tits get brutally butchered and ripped apart and you’d listen to him rant about the “authenticity” of the production value with blank but affectionate eyes. Nobody could say that he wasn’t passionate.

The theatre attendant sighed, her nails drumming impatiently on the counter as she stared unseeingly past the two of you with a bored expression. Mickey glanced at her, unable to stop the small roll of his eyes at her attitude.

“Just pick one and we’ll watch it. And choose fast because this one’s about to fall asleep.” Mickey said to you under his breath, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his wallet. You knew better than to offer to pay, knowing you’d be met with a disgusted look of horror at the very idea of you wanting to pay for absolutely anything.

You loosely gestured to the least sappy looking movie for his benefit, secretly relieved you didn’t have to sit through yet another bloody mess of a film and Mickey paid the attendant and took the tickets as she mumbled, “enjoy your movie,” He nodded his head at her politely and picked up the popcorn and drinks, begrudgingly making his way into the theatre with a grimace on his face at the thought of having to sit in the freezing theatre for two hours and watch this god awful movie. But as he walked toward the theatre doors, popcorn under one arm and you under the other, he noticed how deserted the place was. Just you, himself and 3 attendants in the entire place. He smiled a little to himself, knowing full well he could have a lot of fun with this little benefit when the boredom would truly take over.

As you both settled down in your assigned seats beside each other Mickey placed the popcorn by next to his feet, leaning back on the chair with his eyes scanning the room. Just as he’d hoped, it was completely deserted apart from the two of you. He glanced at your face, the smile still on his lips as you looked back at him, asking him in a suspicious tone, “what?”

“Nothing, nothing.” He said, diverting his eyes from you and to the large screen as the trailers began to play.

“Give me my popcorn.” You said, holding out your hand expectantly.

“No, no, absolutely not.” Mickey shook his head as he spoke, pushing your hand away gently.

“What? Why?”

“Baby, you always finish your popcorn before the movie even starts and what happens? Oh, Mickey.” He mocked your voice in an absolutely terrible impression, twirling imaginary hair around his finger as he spoke. “I finished all my popcorn, give me yours.” He looked at you with knowing eyes and a playful smile on his lips as he dropped his hand back down onto the arm rest. “Just wait for the opening titles at least.” He said in his normal voice.

“You think you know me so well. I don’t fucking sound like that. Ass.” You grumbled under your breath, slumping back in your seat with a pout. He laughed at you affectionately, reaching for your hand and bringing it up to his lips, kissing it gently.

“Huh, guess it’s just us.” You mused as you watched one of the attendants close the theatre doors, leaving just you and Mickey in the large dark room with nothing but the glowing light of the screen shining down on the two of you.

“Guess it is.” Mickey said lightly, shifting in his seat and dropping your hand in favour of resting his palm on the smooth bare skin of your thigh, his fingers lightly tracing shapes and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

This wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Mickey was big on casual physical contact, especially whilst watching movies. The cheerful opening of the movie caught your attention and your eyes set on the screen, deciding to make the most of your date together by actually enjoying the movie, even if he didn’t.

Twenty minutes into the film and Mickey was bored out of his mind. You seemed engrossed with the movie, shushing Mickey every couple of minutes when he tried to talk to you or complain about the “god awful” film.

“This is so fucking sh-“

You swatted at his arm lightly, shushing him once again and he groaned, slumping back in his seat and letting his head fall backward against the soft material of the chair. The two dimensional characters seemed to mock him through the screen as the actors paraded around with an awful performance. He physically recoiled as he heard the cheesy lines being spoken.

Nobody fucking talks like that. He thought to himself with a grimace.

He began to think of what he could do to make this date a little more interesting. He quickly scanned the theatre double checking the room once again to make sure it was empty before his fingers slowly danced across your thigh, casually moving in between your legs.

He chuckled a little as you slapped his hand, pinning your legs together as you sent him a small glare. “No, Mickey.” You said as sternly as you could muster. He looked at you completely unphased and raised an eyebrow, but said absolutely nothing.

One of Mickey’s favourite pastimes is fooling around with you in semi-public places. Semi-public was okay, semi-public was fun and exciting. It was even encouraged. There was only a risk of being caught. You knew exactly what he was thinking at the moment, what he wanted to do. But doing it here, in the middle of a movie theatre? That was a little too risky for your liking. You felt his hand move back to your thigh after a couple of seconds, still tracing small shapes onto your skin with a feather light touch. You clenched your teeth, staring at the screen to try and focus on the movie again, but now that felt almost impossible.

How the fuck did he always manage to do this to you? Completely divert your attention and make you focus explicitly on him and what you wanted him to do to you? The fact he didn’t even need to speak in order for you to waver on your insistence not to fuck him in a movie theatre was almost making you angry with yourself and your lack of ability to stand by your decisions.

He waited until you relaxed your rigid stance and your legs unstiffened, his fingers still grazing your skin gently before he made another much slower move. His fingers hardly even touched you as he lightly brushed your inner thigh. He smiled to himself a little when he heard your breath hitch a little and felt you look up at him with imploring eyes. He made sure his eyes were still set on the screen as if he was completely sucked into the crappy movie. You looked down at his hand, tugging at your bottom lip with your teeth as it moved upward underneath your skirt, feeling his fingertips glide up your inner thigh, your legs opening for him as though they had a mind of their own before feeling him very lightly grazing your clit through the soft cotton material of your already damp panties.

You shifted a little, fingers digging into the dark red upholstery of the arm of the chair, your legs instinctively inching even wider for him and you heard him let out a small, satisfied laugh as he felt the damp patch.

Fuck.

“Look who's changed her mind.” He murmured softly under his breath. You ignored him, eyes fluttering closed as you felt him move your panties to the side, his index finger slowly sliding up the length of your slit to collect moisture before torturously circling your clit with a pace that was so slow, so light, that it was almost painful. He let out another chuckle as he felt the heat on his fingers and heard the small whimper fall out from between your lips, his eyes still not moving from the screen.

Your head fell back against your seat as his fingers gradually increased speed, circling over your clit in the way he knew drove you crazy, but not quite applying enough pleasure for you to genuinely enjoy it. Mickey shifted a little in his seat so he was leaning toward you, eyes finally dragging away from the screen and to your face, watching you with dark and almost amused eyes as your chest heaved and your grip on the armrest tightened so hard your knuckles turned white. His fingers suddenly abandoned your clit in favour of plunging two of them knuckle deep into your pussy and causing you to let out a loud, unfiltered moan.

“Shh.” He whispered to you, his free hand covering your mouth as he continued to move his long fingers inside of you, hooking and curling them to graze the spot inside of you that was bound to make you cum sooner rather than later if he carried on.

Your eyes nervously flickered around the room again, terrified you’d missed a spectator in one of the chairs that would turn around and find some girl getting fingered by her boyfriend in the middle of a movie theatre. Of course there was no one, but his free hand remained on your mouth as he leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek and before resting his forehead on your temple.

“You gotta be quiet, okay?“ he said in your ear, another twist of his fingers inside of you causing you to moan against his hand in response. His fingers abruptly stopped moving, frozen inside of you and you looked at him in desperate confusion as his other hand moved from your mouth to slide down behind your head, gripping your hair firmly by the roots and forcing you to look into his eyes. “Do you promise you’ll be quiet?” He whispered, hand dropping from your mouth so you could respond.

“Mmm- mm yes.” You gasped out, your voice pleading and almost whiny as you bucked your hips against his hand, desperate to feel friction again. “Please, Mickey.”

“Look at you.” He said tauntingly. “Twenty minutes ago you were slapping my hand away and now here you are, dripping down my arm and begging for me to get you off in the middle of a movie theatre.”

He suddenly pulled his fingers out of you, bringing them up and pressing them against your lips. You eagerly took his fingers into your mouth, sucking your own arousal off of them eagerly. He let out somewhat of a growl as he felt your tongue swirl around his fingers as you greedily tasted yourself and he quickly glanced behind him at the door before he slid his fingers out of your mouth slowly to unbuckle his belt. As he did, you were almost too eager to drop to your knees so you could blow him but he stopped you with his hand, shaking his head once whilst saying, “No, no,” and pulling his jeans and briefs down so his cock was just about out, already hard and pressed against his toned stomach. “Panties off, leave the skirt on.”

Your eyes widened a little as you hesitated, glancing up at the theatre doors. Mickey followed your gaze and rolled his eyes a little at you. “What, so you’re fine letting me finger your pussy here but you don’t want to fuck? Come on now, baby.”

You could hear the sarcasm in his voice and you scowled at him, but obediently removed your panties, discarding them on the floor by your feet.

“Good girl.” Mickey grinned at you, looking victorious as he grabbed your arm as soon as they were off, practically yanking you onto his lap. You straddled him with your knees either side of him, just about hovering over him as you felt the flushed head of his cock lightly graze your swollen clit, the sensation so slight yet so intense it sent a small shiver throughout your entire body. Mickey felt it too, sighing a little as he felt you just barely touching him.

The light of the huge screen dully illuminated the two of you as Mickey hitched your skirt around your waist before sliding his hands around to grip your ass, spreading you open for him as he angled his hips up, groaning quietly as he slowly began filling you. You let out a gasp that was a little too loud at the satisfying stretch, causing Mickey to stop abruptly, gripping your hips so you couldn’t move.

“What did I say?”

“I- I’m sorry, please don’t stop.” You begged him as quietly as you could. He could feel your body trembling with need and he couldn’t help but oblige you.

His eyes remained on your face, though you were hardly visible in the dim light of the screen and he smiled at your desperate expression before continuing to push up into you, sighing in satisfaction at the familiar feeling of your pussy clenching around him as he did. You angled your hips downward, impatient at his slow pace so you could envelop him completely and almost too eagerly. The thrill of fucking him in a public place where a stranger could walk in at any given moment and see the two of you was more exciting than you had anticipated, your earlier anxiety and concerns becoming nothing more than a distant and irrelevant memory. It made you more eager and hungry for him, more than you could have even begun to imagine. It took Mickey by surprise as he let out a small, breathless laugh as your hips rolled against him, thoroughly enjoying the reluctantly quiet moans you were panting in his ear.

“Such a whore.” He whispered into your hair, sliding one of his hands up your back and gripping the back of your neck under your hair. The sound of his voice in your ear as you rode him sent tingles through your body, spurring you on. “Look at you, riding me like a slut in the middle of a movie theatre, fucking acting like you didn’t want this the whole time. Bad fucking girl.” You groaned at his words, throwing your head back and moving your hands to rest behind you on his thighs, feeling the familiar need for him to take control. He obliged you once again, his hands resting your waist and holding you still as he began to grind his hips upwards and fuck deep into you, treating you as if you were his very own sex doll.

You almost cried out, turning your head and biting into the soft skin of your shoulder as you felt him thrust up into you, feeling his cock hitting all of the right places. You felt the slight stubble of his trimmed hair prick and grind over your clit, stimulating you perfectly as your nails dug into his thighs, making him let out a small hiss and grind up into you even faster, watching intently as your tits bounced from behind your thin tank top.

Your body was held still in his firm grip with your only movements being a reaction from him as he fucked you to his own accord as you tried hard not to make too loud of a sound. One of his hands moved from your waist to slide between the two of you, his thumb applying pressure to your clit and moving in small, calculated circles. His head fell forward to watch himself sliding in and out of your convulsing pussy, groaning as he felt you clench and tighten around him. He knew you were close to cumming when he felt your legs start to shake beside him and he knew he was close too. Just watching you with your mouth biting into your own shoulder to stop yourself from screaming as he fucked up into you in the middle of the day in a movie theatre was driving him insane, and he didn’t feel the need to prevent your impending orgasm or his own, the need to tease you disappeared in favour of feeling you cum on his dick.

Your head lifted from your shoulder and you looked at him, panting desperately with wide eyes. “I- I’m gonna- p- please can I-“

Mickey suddenly let out a sharp gasp and quickly grabbed you by your arms that were still propping you up by your hands on his thighs and hastily pulled you toward him, gently but quickly turning you around so you were sitting on his lap and he tugged at the end of your skirt so it covered the sight of his dick still stuffed inside of you. You frowned a little in surprise at the sudden unwelcome change, his heart hammering against your back and his panting breath on the back of your neck. You went to glance back at him in confusion only to see the theatre doors wide open and an attendant stroll in.

You looked at Mickey’s face in alarm but his eyes were set on the screen, refusing to meet you. You turned your head back around and looked at the screen, seeing nothing. You weren’t even sure what the movie was about anymore but you stared at the characters desperately. Mickey’s hand rested on your hip as the theatre clerk stood by the door, eyes scanning the room. It was just dark enough that the man wouldn’t be able to spot your panties bunched up on the floor, let alone you sat with your boyfriends still rigid cock up inside of you. To him, it probably looked as though you were sat on his lap cuddling him.

You shifted anxiously, feeling Mickey’s breathing change as you did so and you realised that at this angle, he could really feel you. Your eyes flickered to the utterly bored looking attendant who seemed to have his attention grabbed by the movie as an idea started ringing in your head. You slightly adjusted yourself, rising up a little and angling your hips back down. You heard him take in a sharp breath, his fingers bruising your hips as you moved very calculated and slow, unable to wipe the satisfied smile off your face as you felt his cock twitch almost pathetically inside of you.

“Filthy bitch wants to get caught.” You heard him mutter between his teeth.

You shrugged every so slightly, responding to him in a hushed whisper, “you started it. I’m finishing it.”

[commander-krios]

Sweet Like Sugar

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Pairing: Bex/Danis Rating: General Summary: The Grand Revel. A night of revelry, sweets, and love. Bex and Danis find joy in the simple things. Words: 2680 Additional Tags: Gift Exchange, Tieflings, Romance, Love, Celebrations, Valentine's Day, Fluff

Read on AO3

Elturel Tiefling Camp Discord Server Exchange gift for @omgkalyppso. I hope you enjoy it! It was my first time writing for Bex and Danis, they are so cute and deserve all of the fics.

The streets of Baldur’s Gate were packed with festival goers, dressed in thick robes or cloaks, trying to keep warm against the cold winter’s night. The celebration was well underway, hours had already passed with no signs of stopping anytime soon. The clerics of the three goddesses (Lliira, Sharess, and Sune) had gathered their worshippers to prepare earlier in the evening, but now it seemed things were heating up, so to speak. 

The young couple in the teashop were finishing the last dregs of their cups, whispers and giggles reaching where Bex sat finishing the totals for the day. Their pastries, the cookies especially, had run out so quickly that Danis had a tough time keeping up with the demand. Their newest treat, a chocolate sugar cookie with red firemint candies baked within, had sold the most. 

It made sense considering what today’s holiday was: The Grand Revel. 

Danis walked from the kitchen to the storefront, wiping his hands on the apron still tied around his waist. He left handprints in flour against the fabric and Bex bit her lip, trying not to laugh at how adorable he looked with his dark hair pulled out of his face, his golden gaze on the movement outside. His lips curved into a grin at the shouts and laughter that filled their shop as the last customers exited in a rush of cold air.

Sliding from the stool she’d been perched on, she crossed to him in the silence, reaching up to brush some flour from his cheek. He glanced down at her with a wide eyed look and she giggled, flicking him affectionately on the nose. 

“What was that for?” He asked, his hands curling around her waist. The flour was probably all over her skirts as well, but she didn’t care if it meant she was in Danis’s arms. There was nowhere she’d rather be in all of Faerun. 

“It was for being the sweetest and most adorable man in Baldur’s Gate.” She stood on her toes to press a soft kiss to his cheek and was glad to see a blush forming when she pulled back. 

“Did you get into the wine barrels again, my love?” He teased her, pressing his forehead against hers and gazing into her eyes. She memorized every color in his ochre eyes, every swirl of golden fire, every touch of heated skin against her fingertips as her hands trailed up his neck and into his silky dark locks.

“No.” She replied with a roll of her eyes, tickling his scalp with her claws before withdrawing and turning to grab the tray of used teacups. She didn’t get far before he was wrapping his arms around her middle, pulling her back into his chest. “But I wouldn’t be adverse to a glass of the Blingdenstone Blush.”

“Of course you wouldn’t.” Danis pressed a kiss to the back of her neck and she shivered at the touch. “It’s as sweet as you are.”

Bex let out a breathless laugh, lifting the tray and shoving it into his hands. “Now who's being a little silly?”

Danis smiled, taking the dishes without argument. “I can’t help myself when every morning when I wake, I have to pinch myself to make sure this isn’t a dream.”

Bex brushed some of his hair away from his face, tucking it behind one pointed ear, lingering against the curve of it briefly. “You are such a romantic.”

“I haven’t heard a complaint yet.”

“And you never will.” With hands on his shoulders, Bex helped guide him back to the kitchen. “Now, go! We should finish cleaning if we want to make it to the celebrations before they get terribly crowded.”

“Yes, yes. Of course. I’ll be finished soon.”

As soon as Danis disappeared into the backroom, Bex locked up the teahouse, put the coin in the safe secured under the floorboards and then, once she was positive that Danis was still busy, pulled out the cookies that she’d safely tucked into some paper and hidden away from view of the customers, in case they ran out again.

Dark chocolate dough stuffed with firemint candies, dusted in sparkling sugar. They smelled as divine as they tasted, the bitterness of the chocolate highlighting the spiciness of the cinnamon in the candies, the sugar giving it that final sweetness that tied everything together.

It was a treat, to be sure, and a well deserved one.

Ever so gently, she put them in the pouch at her belt, making sure they were secure before packing up the rest of the sweets leftover from the day. When Danis returned to the front, he was no longer in his apron, but a lovely sapphire tunic and beige slacks, fancier than Bex had ever seen him before. They were no longer struggling refugees from Elturel. Now, they were Baldurians, with their own business and a bright future ahead of them. It was more than Bex could have wished for and yet, it was theirs.

“You look nice.” Pulling her apron over her head, she set it on the counter, trying to figure out what exactly she was going to wear. There weren’t many opportunities to go on dates since opening their teahouse and this was one she wasn’t going to waste. Tugging on his collar, she fixed it straight before giving him a brush of a kiss along his jaw. “Wait for me. I won’t be long.”

“I’d never go anywhere without you.”

The air took their breath away when they stepped outside, the cold seeping into their bodies despite their heavy cloaks. Their higher tiefling body temperatures kept them from freezing as soon as they exited the shop, at least some luck on their part. Even still, that didn’t stop Danis from putting his arm around Bex’s shoulders, pulling her close until they shared heat, their breaths coming out in puffs of white. Bex shivered slightly, pressing into Danis’s side, enjoying the residual heat of his body against hers. Citizens of Baldur’s Gate twirled in the designated dancing circles while others watched on, singing along with the bards or cheering for the more skilled dancers putting on a show.

Bex sighed happily, watching as a particularly beautiful couple spun in an elaborate dance, the elven woman’s braided hair whipping around her. It was dazzling the way they moved, like two pieces of a puzzle, weaving around the other. The music’s ending was cut off with loud applause as the couple bowed to their audience, flushed from the cold and probably the dancing as well. They walked off arm in arm, whispering to each other excitedly.

“I want to dance!” Bex exclaimed, pulling Danis towards one of the circles marked out with sparkling dust. Danis groaned, but didn’t speak any complaints, the delighted grin on his face the only proof that he was teasing her. Cautiously crossing over the lines of the circle, Bex was glad to see magic kept the dust in place. It certainly would’ve been a pain to fix them all night.

Facing Danis, she glanced up to find him chuckling.

“What is so funny?”

“I don’t think I’ve had enough to drink for this.” He told her quietly, ignoring the troupe as it started up another fast tune. But even as he spoke, his hand took hold of her waist, the free one sliding into her gloved hand. “And you definitely haven’t.”

“Are you saying that I can’t dance?” Her free hand rested against his shoulder and she nudged him slightly. “Because I’ll have you know, I’m a wonderful dancer. It’s you who is the problem.”

“Me?” He asked, eyes widening as if offended. “Perhaps we need to find out.”

She squealed when he spun her, the movement sending cold air across her cheeks, and despite the bitterness of the wind, she felt warm, elated, with the freedom of dancing in such a public area without worrying about anyone judging them. Without worrying about the fear they used to after Elturel, wondering if they would be cast out of another city, and be reduced to nothing but beggars.

Bex tossed her head back, her laughter blending in with the revelry, joy, love, and beauty erupting in the chaos around them. The upbeat music, the dancing lights that lit the streets, the scent of hot chocolate drinks and firemint candies, all of it exhilarated her. Letting go of Danis’s shoulder, she ducked under his arm, her skirts billowing around her. Stomping her feet, she turned to him once more, only to find his eyes were bright and he was laughing as hard as she was.

Danis wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss against her forehead, his breath hot in the chilly winter air. Her heart soared at his touch, solid yet soft, her entire world. Her safety and her hope. Her future.

“Did you want to keep dancing?” He asked as the ruckus settled to a low hum while the bards prepared for their next song. “Or we can listen to the music for a bit. Whatever you prefer, my love.”

Bex’s eyes scanned the scene around them. There were still people dancing in the circles, oblivious of anything around them. The bards were chattering quietly amongst themselves, perhaps about their next song, or something else entirely. The soft sounds of lyre and lute continued nevertheless, notes twining around each other in a melody that thrummed beneath her skin. She wanted to move, to live in the moment.

Wrapping her arms around Danis, Bex leaned into him, breathing in the scent of sugar and firemint still clinging to his clothes. The smell of home.

They were home.

“Let’s sit here awhile. The music is comforting and I don’t want to let you go yet.”

Danis chuckled, a deep sound in his chest that rumbled through her. She smiled, holding him tighter, unable to imagine a more perfect life than the one they had. They stood like that for a time, listening to the revelry, the music, the chatter. A sweet scent floated in the air, chocolate, sugar, something syrupy. 

Something that made her stomach gurgle.

Danis glanced down, resisting the urge to laugh at her if the way his lips twitched was any indication. “Hungry?”

“Famished.” She cooed, standing on her toes to press a soft kiss to his chin, enjoying the rush of air that left his lips and warmed her nose. “Let’s find what’s making those delicious smells.”

The closest vendor was, in fact, selling pastries. Little flaky butter pastries, some with chocolate filling, others with a different array of berries, some even with cream. With a shake of their coin purses later, their stomachs were full of sweet treats and hot chocolate, content.

When they retreated home hours later, the sky lit up with fireworks of gold, blue, and crimson, showering the world in arcing stars that disappeared before they touched the ground. It reminded Bex a bit of the party after the battle at the Grove, Rolan’s magic sparkling in the air. She wondered how he was doing as Archwizard and vowed to make a stop later in the week with some fresh treats for him and his siblings.

She and Danis settled side by side on the edge of the balcony above their shop, leaning against the banister at the crowds that milled below and the skies that were a kaleidoscope of color above.

The moment was perfect. They were safe, together, and their dreams were unfolding before them with nothing in the way: No armies, no apocalyptic monsters, no fear. After Elturel, there had been doubt that this would happen, that they could be happy. But now they were sitting above their little bakery, gazing at the distant stars with the sounds of laughter in the streets. Sugar lingered on her lips and she swiped her tongue across them, the powder sweet as she savored the taste.

“Danis.” She reached forward and slipped her hand in his, the warmth of his skin a comfort that she’d never tire of. “I need to ask you something.”

He smiled at her, and even in the darkness, she could see the glow of his beautiful eyes. Her heart skipped a beat at how lovely he was, and not only to look at. Every part of Danis was kind and honest and hardworking. Even when he feared the worst, even when he stared death in the eyes in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, all he ever cared about was her safety. Sometimes, she wondered what she did to deserve such devotion. 

“Are you cold? We can go inside, if that’s the case.” Danis tightened his grip slightly, tugging her hand as if to lead her back into their rooms, but she stilled him, shaking her head with the smallest of laughs.

“No, that’s not necessary. It’s only… I wanted to tell you how much I love you. And how much having you here with me has meant. None of this would’ve been possible without you.”

“I think you’re mistaken by how much I’ve actually helped in our endeavors, but- I adore you, Bex. I would’ve traveled all the way to Waterdeep if that’s what you wished.” Danis squeezed her hand gently, lifting it to press a single chaste kiss on her knuckles. Always the charming prince, he was.

“I hope that’s true because I have another thing to ask of you.” She glanced away, feeling her cheeks heat with blush, uncertain in herself for the first time that night. “It’s something I’ve been thinking about since we left Elturel and well, I’ve been waiting for the right moment.”

“I’ll do anything for you. You know that.”

She took a deep breath, trying to calm the nervous butterflies in her stomach. Bex was the optimist, the one who usually didn’t let fear weigh her down, that made sure everyone kept moving despite adversity. But this was different. This was everything.

Shifting slightly, she tilted her head slightly, peering at him from under her eyelashes. With her heart beating a dangerous rhythm in her chest, she blurted out the words before she could overthink them. “Danis… will you marry me?”

He froze like a stone, immovable by even a flood. She immediately knew something was wrong. 

“Oh. Uh, this is awkward.” Danis said before clearing his throat, hand sliding from hers only to turn away, blush crawling up his neck and across his cheeks. 

She felt queasy, certain her stomach dropped through the floor beneath her, the solid ground beneath their store, and perhaps even returned to Avernus itself, a burning hole the only thing left in its place. She thought they were on the same paths… had she been completely wrong?

Danis reached into the pocket of his cloak, pulling out a delicately wrapped cookie. With a sigh, he held it out to her with a shaking hand. “I planned on giving you this earlier, but we were having so much fun and I didn’t want to interrupt the festivities.”

Bex cradled the heart shaped cookie in her hands, made purely of sugar with a pretty red icing covering it. There was writing in white over the confection, Infernal, by the looks of it. 

“What does it say?”

Danis laughed, a breathless sound that sent her heart jumping again. “It’s supposed to say ‘Will you marry me’. But knowing me and my terrible translations, it’s probably calling you an idiot or something.”

She choked out a laugh, trying to hold back the tears at how happy this made her. That he made her. “I love you, Danis.”

“So does that mean-?”

“Of course I’ll marry you!” She nearly shouted, covering her mouth with a hand, blushing in embarrassment. “Eh, if you’ll marry me, of course?”

Danis brushed his knuckles across her cheek, his grin so wide that he radiated with his joy. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

Leaning forward, Bex pressed her lips to his, content to sit on the exposed balcony of their little shop, the pops of fireworks above and their futures lying ahead.

[fuckin-sick-bih]

Tattoos and Tissues pt 3!

Fandom: Stranger Things Summary: No Upside Down. Tattoo Artist and Florist AU. Eddie goes to Steve's place to take care of his florist boyfriend who has fallen ill. CW: Mess, inducing, stuffy talk, illness, mentions of erections and adult themes/kink, Steve has the kink and Eddie likes indulging Word Count: 4.3k Author Note: I did it! I finished it! I finished a fic! Holy fuck! No one ever let me do this again... I am absolutely going to do this to myself again no questions, I just suck at pacing myself lmao. Honestly, the first draft was WAY more Adult lol But also I don't want this to be the end of this AU. I just don't wanna do another 3-part fic, I wanna do little mini fics or drabbles if ideas happen tbh. Regardless, enjoy. I am aware not all things resolve, but hey that's why it can be something cute and small and on-going, right? Eddie - bold Steve - Italics MINORS DNI

whats your address?

What? Why?

because i come baring gifts, Harrington. address, please, so i can figure out where the hell im going im so lost

413 Building D Maple Glen Apartments just off Terrace Street. I’ll buzz you in, just come up to the fourth floor, and I’ll be poking my head out.

When Eddie showed up at Building D of Maple Glen Apartments and saw he had four flights of stairs to climb, he decided he was going to strangle Steve instead of nurse him back to health. He adjusted the bags of goodies for Steve in his hands and began the climb up to the fourth floor. The top floor, of course. 

As he reached the top and exited the stairwell, he spotted Steve poking his head into the hallway as promised. Sure, Eddie was panting, but Steve looked wrecked. There were dark circles under his eyes, his nose was bright cherry red at the tip and rims, and the rest of his face was pale. 

“Jesus H. Christ, you weren’t kidding… You really are sick, huh?” Eddie said in a soft, somewhat concerned tone as he approached Steve.

The other’s pale cheeks seemed to flush up a dark shade of red at Eddie’s words. “What id the world are you doi’g here, Eddie?” Steve asked in a congested and raspy voice that made Eddie wince in sympathy for his throat. 

Instantly, Eddie went digging in his bags for the bag of cough drops. “Please suck on one of those, Harrington. Talking sounds like it hurts. And they’ve got menthol-y stuff in ‘em. It’ll help your nose, c’mon lemme in.” He shoulders his way into Steve’s apartment before the other can stop him. 

“Eddie!” Steve rasped out before turning away from the other to cough harshly into his arm. “You dod’t wadt to be id here, you’ll get s-siiih… IXXGH’T! Sick.” There had been just enough time for Steve’s hand to shoot up and pinch his nose to stifle what sounded like a powerful and still just barely restrained sneeze. It made Eddie wince to think how it must have hurt his ears. 

There was a scoff from the curly-haired tattoo artist, who was already unpacking his bag of goodies on the nearby countertop. At the same time, Steve shut the door, not protesting anymore. “Bless you and puhhh-lease. I don’t get sick, Steve. Munson Constitution. Allergies? Yes. Sick? No. I can’t even remember the last time I was sick. Wait-” He frowned as he tried to dig up the memory. “I think it was like 8th grade? And I had the flu? I dunno; Uncle Wayne came home to me curled up asleep in the empty tub with a fever. He couldn’t find me for like twenty minutes.” 

There was a mildly concerned but still somewhat fond smile on Steve’s face. “You’re a bess, Budsod.” He sniffled thickly and grabbed a tissue from the box beside the couch where it looked like Steve had taken up residence. A nest of blankets, a pillow from his bed, crumpled tissues surrounding the nest, and a few empty water bottles. “But seriously, you should go. Robid high-tailed it out of here to Dadcy’s the seco’d she heard I was sick.”

“All the more reason for me to stay!” Eddie chirped, stepping back to show Steve the menagerie of sick supplies he’d brought. “Not that you need a babysitter, and if you seriously wanna be left alone to your misery, I get it, but…” He side-stepped a little closer to bump their shoulders together. “I never liked being alone while sick.” He admits softly.

The little bump made Steve’s lips twitch, and Eddie counted it as a win. Then Steve moved forward to have a look at the supplies. “Jesus, you didd’t have to get b’me all this…”

Eddie pats Steve on the back as he moved with him, eyes scanning over the cold/flu meds, a couple cans of chicken noodle soup, some bottles of Gatorade, the cough drops he’d mentioned earlier, and even- “Those fucking dissolvable shower disks are evil, Harrington. That’s your treat if you’re a good boy and take your meds, deal?” He said with a smirk growing on his face now.

A sputtering noise from Steve turned into a coughing fit almost right away, bad enough that Eddie was rubbing his back through the end of it. “W-What the hell does that bead?” He choked out, eyes wide. “If they’re evil thed, why did you bri’g theb?”

A laugh escaped Eddie, who was now taking Steve’s hands to guide him back to the couch, settling the sick man down to wrap him back up in blankets. “Because they work and because you will probably love it.” He said playfully and hesitated momentarily, trying not to overthink it before pressing his lips to Steve’s forehead. “Not warm.” He whispered softly.

Steve let out an almost shuddering-sounding sigh like he was just happy to be touched. To be taken care of for once. They’d only started getting to know each other but had been texting a bit. With all those teens he babysat, Eddie could believe it. Between work, babysitting, and probably taking care of things at the apartment with his roommate… when did Steve get time to care for himself? No wonder he got sick, Eddie thought. 

“What do you say to some daytime cold meds, a cough drop, some Gatorade, and I’ll heat you up a can of soup in a bit?” Eddie asked Steve softly, running his fingers delicately through the other man’s messy bedhead. It was as if Steve was a cat, utterly leaning into the touch despite how sick he must feel with how he looked. 

There was a nod from Steve, so Eddie took that to mean go ahead with his plan. “Kinda glad to see you keep work at work.” He admits to Steve in a casually playful way while grabbing Steve a Gatorade and some pills. “Would’ve sucked if we were both sneezing our heads off- bless you, by the way.”

As Eddie spoke, Steve’s face had been going slowly slacker, and his eyes were unfocused in a classic pre-sneeze hang-up. “Ixx’TSH! IXGh’t! Oh god… I’b dot godda be able to stifle those buch lo’ger…” Steve mutters with a much soupier-sounding sniffle than Eddie expected for some pretty well-stifled sneezes. 

Nevertheless, Eddie pulled his bandana from his back pocket and swatted Steve with it before offering it out to him. “Here. Stop stifling then, jackass. Didn’t see me stifling for you, hm?” He pointed out, handed over the meds and drink, and gestured to the cough drops. “Try one. It’ll feel good on your throat and help your congestion.” 

Steve caught the bandana and gave Eddie an appreciative smile for the soft fabric against his nose. “Ugh, fide if it gets you to shut up.” He teased, punctuated by a weak cough after downing the meds. Then he grabs a menthol lozenge. After popping it into his mouth, Steve’s eyebrows raise. “I was expecti’g that to taste worse… cad defiditely still taste the bedthol…” He admits with a slight sniffle.

“Sorry… what were you sayi’g earlier?” Steve asked with another little sniffle as he settled on the couch, pressing the bandana to his nose some more. There’s the slightest flush that wasn’t there a little bit ago. Eddie would’ve remembered if it had been there or not. It’s too cute, barely spreading over his cheekbones and nose tip. 

Eddie was knocked out of his daydreaming by remembering he had to answer Steve. “Huh? Oh- thanking you for your lack of plants. That’s all.” He jokes and shakes his head. “It’s stupid, don’t worry about it. I’m just glad to get a break from being the sneezy one.” He teased.

A quiet, albeit raspy, chuckle escapes Steve while he sucks on the lozenge. “Ab I givi’g you a rud for you b-buhh…bodey yet? Or do I deed to snff let byself sdeeze bore for that?” With all the stopping to sniffle and how his nose seemed to be tickling, Eddie got the idea the menthol in the lozenge was working on Steve’s sinuses. 

“Well, I think you’re doomed to sneeze more soon either way, big boy.” Eddie teased as he watched the other man’s expression fall again into that pre-sneeze desperation. 

Still, Steve seemed to want to deny himself release. “D-D’noh idea… w-whhaahat you bead, Eds-” His breath was beginning to hitch dangerously now, coming closer and closer to its inevitable crescendo. 

Eddie took Steve’s hands, “Don’t stifle, Steve… just sneeze. It’s okay.” He urged the other, getting the feeling it was far more than just a matter of Steve not wanting to spread germs. Like he was still embarrassed and shy.

“Oh, okaaehh-! AeISHHue! HeiiISHhuh! Ngh- Ugh… Oh fuck. Still tickles.” Steve admits, scrunching and wriggling his nose in all sorts of ways Eddie found altogether too damn endearing. 

Eddie rolled his eyes and dropped down onto the couch with Steve. “Come here, sniffles.” And he can plainly see that has an effect on Steve from where he sits now. Steve’s breath catches, and there’s the slightest tent to the front of his Hawkins High Swim Team gray sweatpants. Whoever designed those pants for the swim team, Eddie could kiss them. “Oh, you like that?” He purred.

A shaky sort of breath left Steve, but Eddie wasn’t quite sure if it was from being teased or still needing to sneeze. Though Steve moved a bit closer, his eyes were watering a little now with the irritation that wouldn’t budge. “O-oh god, cobe o-ohhhih-!” Even with as desperate of a hitch as it sounded, Steve still faltered into sniffles and groaned. 

The curly-haired man looked at Steve with an exceptionally soft pout, one of distinct sympathy. “You want some help with that? Seriously, that looks like torture.” He tilted his head when Steve sniffled, and his eyes widened at Eddie’s offer. 

“I’b sorry, what’d you just ask, b’me?” Steve asked, like he wasn’t sure if he was hearing correctly. He was still rubbing his nose against the cuff of his hoodie; Eddie wasn’t sure if he was encouraging or fighting off the tickle anymore. 

Eddie raised a brow at Steve in confusion, “Do you need help with that stuck sneeze? You’re starting to look more miserable than me peak allergy season, Stevie.” He teased, watching as the other continued staring at him like a deer in headlights until it clicked for Eddie, and he had his lightbulb moment. “Wait! Does that turn you on?” He asked, sounding utterly delighted to have figured out how to get Steve going to the point where he was nearly speechless.

Instantly, Steve was sputtering, and it caused a few coughs to escape him. “Oh by god, you cad’t just say thi’gs like that to b’me, Eds…” He complained, leaning back against the couch to tip his head back while rubbing at his nose some more. “Fuck… ugh, bay- maehh… hehih-!” And once again, Eddie watched him wind up, only for nothing to happen. 

“Sooo…?” Eddie prompted and gave a vague wave of his hand as if gesturing Steve to continue. 

It was truly remarkable how red Steve’s face could flush, Eddie thought as he watched the lighter brunette make the internal debate. “Fide. Jesus, we practically flirt all the tibe adyway.” He reached forward to snatch a tissue, twisting the corner into a point.

Eddie’s brows furrowed as he watched in utter confusion while Steve strangled the tissue. “Okay, I gotta ask… what the fuck are you doing?” 

“I’b- ihhih… ugh, I’b baki’g sobethi’g for you to i’duce b’me.” He explained before handing the tissue, now twisted to a neatly pointed tip, over to Eddie. “Probably wod’t get bore thad ode use out of it because I’b all coldish, but iihh-! it should do the trick.”

After accepting the new tool, Eddie turned to face Steve more as he started to get the idea. “Ohh, I think I get it. Okay. Never actually thought to use a tissue like this, honestly.” He admits before smirking a little. This was Steve’s kink, and well… he wanted to perform for him a little. Make it fun for him. 

He trails the very tip of the twisted-up tissue end over the tip of Steve’s red nose and watches as his nostrils flare in response to even just that. “Jesus, someone’s sensitive.” It was just a stray comment. Sometimes, Eddie couldn’t keep his mouth shut, but judging by how Steve’s hips suddenly squirmed, he really enjoyed it. 

A grin split across Eddie’s face, and he suddenly moved to straddle Steve’s lap, “Think I need a better position for this, don’t you, sweetheart?” he asked teasingly and winked at his boyfriend, who was now bright red as he looked up at him. Eddie eased down to sit more in Steve’s lap, which caused the other man to groan softly. 

“Sure, E-Eddie…” Steve stuttered out, but this time, it clearly had nothing to do with his sensitive nostrils that Eddie was already getting back to teasing. “You cad go i-ihhh idside…” 

That made the darker-haired man raise his brows in mild surprise, but he nodded, gently slipping the tip of the tissue into Steve’s nose. He gently twirled the tissue curiously, which had Steve instantly gasping beneath him, and Eddie’s dick twitched at just how powerful he felt for a brief moment.

The twirl seemed to do the trick because Steve’s nostrils flared out, and his eyes fluttered closed with another desperate, hitching breath. Eddie’s hand shot back with the tissue still clutched between his fingers, the twisted tip now all damp and limp despite its short adventure. 

“Ihh… IXXTISHHUE!! HEIIISHUE! Uh… Hupt’IISHHuh… ugh oh by god…” Steve groaned out after the sneezes. The first two burst forth with a sudden intensity Eddie hadn’t been expecting at all. The lighter-haired brunette hastily grabbed a tissue to press to his face, cleaning himself up while a blush spread across his neck and cheeks. “Fuck that’s so e’barassi’g.” He whispered, but Eddie could feel Steve’s erection pressing firmly against him. 

The ease with which Eddie could get Steve so hard he was pressing up against him like that even while he was under the weather was borderline intoxicating. It didn’t matter that Steve had snapped right forward to sneeze, the spray misting briefly against Eddie’s forearm and stomach.

“Bless you, hey… it’s alright. You’re sick; gotta get that gunk outta you. Maybe a shower with one of those disks would be a good idea, actually… clear out some of that congestion, huh?” He offered and grabbed Steve another tissue to replace the one he’d just about soaked through by now.

Little, congested snuffles were coming from Steve constantly as Eddie sat back in his lap to let him tend to his leaking nose. “Baybe…” Steve relented a little, still seeming shy, and wiped away the tears at the edges of his eyes from sneezing. His sinuses were so utterly full it was hard not to tear up with every sneeze. “What uh… what exactly do they eved do? Dever really tried theb before.”

At that, Eddie perked up and grinned at Steve before moving out of his lap. “Oh, you’re gonna love this- c’mon, sniffles. Let’s get you in the nice warm shower with one of those disks then.” He slid backward off of Steve’s lap carefully. He offered his hands to pull him up, ensuring Steve was steady on his feet before grabbing one of said shower disks and being led to the bathroom. 

The bathroom was admittedly a little small for two people. Eddie wasn’t sure how Steve and his roommate managed it, but he went about getting the disk out of the packaging. Of course, the moment the menthol scent hit him, his eyes watered, and his nose prickled, making him pause to rub roughly at it with his hand.

A sudden hand on his arm made him pause, blinking over at Steve, who was looking at him with a concerned expression. “I cad oped it?” He offers softly, but Eddie takes a moment to look at him. Steve looks exhausted and sick, sure, but his pupils are wide and lust-blown. That hard-on from the couch is still half-present and painfully evident in those gray sweatpants, too.

“I got it, sweethhheart.” Eddie assures, wiggling the disk as his own breath tries to hitch, and he lets it for once. In fact, Eddie sniffs slightly, which only irritates his sensitive nose more, so his nostrils twitch and flare. “Told you… you’ll l-love.. thhhh… hEXZT’Shiew! Whew! Okay. You’ll love these.” And without another moment to waste, Eddie sets the little disk in the shower for Steve with a wink. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

Finally, Eddie sees Steve’s unfiltered reaction to one of his sneezes, similar to in the library. It was as if the poor man had completely bluescreened briefly before rebooting. Pupils wide and lust blown as he stared at Eddie, who still rubbed his nose. “Uh… yeah, so just… shower like dorbal?” he asked with another soupy sniffle and began to pull off his shirt, already starting to shiver.

Suddenly, Eddie’s throat felt dry as Steve began undressing with him in the bathroom, and he nodded. “Yep. That’s the idea. It’ll dissolve, and the scent will help clear out your sinuses. Want me to go sit on the couch and wait?” 

With his pants still on, Steve was reaching forward to crank the water as hot as it would go, still sniffling. “Uhm… ki’da… ki’da dizzy actually? Could you baybe like… keep close? Id case I deed you?” There was a quiet plea in Steve’s voice, the request coming out awkward and stunted like he wasn’t used to asking for help. 

Something in it tugged on Eddie’s shriveled heart, and he looked up at Steve with a soft expression. “Yeah, Stevie. I can stay. I’ll turn around so you can strip and get in, deal? Deal.” He agreed, tucking himself into the corner by the sink to stare at the wall. There was a good deal of shuffling behind him before he heard the shower curtain and the spray of water finally being interrupted. 

The menthol scent from the shower disk was already making Eddie’s nose twitch and tingle, so he closed the toilet seat lid, going to sit down on it. “Remember what I said earlier? We’re trying to get that gunk out of you, man. Trust me when I say I’m not gonna judge you or anything. Seriously, I’m sure you’ll get to see me peak allergy s-seeh-season, and you’ll get it.”

His idle chatter as Steve showered made the man give a quiet grunt. “You sure?” Steve’s voice was tired, nervous, and still congested, but it already sounded a little better than before. 

“P-Positiihh-“ But just as Eddie had been about to respond, his breath hitched dangerously, and his hand flung up to cover his mouth and nose. “IXT’SHiew! Ugh, positive! Sorry, sensitive nose.” Eddie admitted with a little sniffle and scrunched his nose up to try and dispel that tingling sort of itch. It wasn’t like his usual allergic itch, just maddening enough to make his sinuses wonder what was in the air to react to. “Hit’SHZiew! Snf! Motherfucker. It’s supposed to make you sneeze, not me!” 

A laugh escaped Steve, turning into some productive-sounding coughs that had Eddie grimacing in sympathy. “Give m’be a m’bidute, dod’t worry.” He assured, sniffling a little as the shower disk worked its magic while he went through his usual shower routine. 

It was barely a minute later when the bathroom had gone oddly quiet. “Heh… Gonna- HEIKTshuh! HI’TShue! Eh… ET’SHHue! HN’kt!” The last one sounded strange, and Eddie blinked a few times, wondering what in the hell Steve had done to make it sound like that. 

“You good, man?” Eddie checked in softly, almost tempted to peek over the shower curtain just to make sure he wasn’t going to pass out or anything.

A shaky breath left Steve, and Eddie saw one of his hands come up to grab the shower curtain rod for support. “Uh-huh… snff! Yeah, just-” Another little groan came from the lighter brunette, and Eddie felt worry fluttering in his ribcage like a frightened bird. “Dizzy… m’okay. Rad out of breath od that last sdeeze…” 

Something like a little cough slipped out of Steve, and Eddie stood to put a hand on top of Steve’s that had a white knuckle grip on the shower curtain rod. “Maybe it’s time to rinse off and get out, yeah? I’ll get your towel and look away so you can hop out.” He encouraged, already moving, to grab the fluffy maroon towel and hold it open. 

Only a few moments later, Steve sounded like he’d rinsed off, but then there was a soft catch of breath just above the spray before- “HeXT’SHHuh! EXT’SHHUE! Hihh… IXT’SHHuh IT’SHH! Oh by god…” If anything, Steve’s tone sounded exasperated, but the sneezes had sounded productive. “You were right. About the shower disk.” He groaned, and Eddie could hear the shower spray being disrupted again, making him smile a little before the water shut off.

“You’re kind of adorable when you’re sick, y’know that?” Eddie said as he shut his eyes, turning his face as he held out the towel for Steve. “I mean- you’re adorable in general, don’t get me wrong! But like… I dunno, man. I know you can take care of yourself, but I just wanna make sure you’re looked after.” 

There was another brief pause, and the continued silence as he felt Steve press into the towel had Eddie’s anxiety spiking. He wrapped the towel around the other’s shoulders and gave him a squeeze there. As the silence dragged on, Eddie felt a need to fill it, “Sorry, is that weird? I don’t wanna like- infantilize you or anything. I just… I wanna drag you to bed, wrap you in blankets, get you whatever you need until you feel better, y’know?”

“Would you lay with me?” Steve asked suddenly, voice right in front of him, and it shocked Eddie so much that his eyes snapped open. 

In front of him stood Steve. Hair dripping wet still, the towel now around his waist, and droplets of water running down his sinfully pretty chest. A more perverse part of Eddie had the intrusive thought of licking the water off him. Steve still had dark circles under his eyes, but those eyes were bright and pleading. “Of course I will, Stevie. We can get comfy and lay together as long as you want.”

Visibly, Steve’s shoulders relaxed, and he nodded with an almost pleading expression, pulling at his brows and lips. “Yes, please? That sounds- snf! fantastic.” He lifted a towel corner to dab at his sensitive, red nostrils with a bit of a wince. “Ugh, ow.”

With a little purse of his lips, Eddie made a sympathetic noise. “Nose all raw?” he asked, reaching out to open the bathroom door so Steve could lead the way to his bedroom. “I didn’t think to get any Vaseline; sorry, sweetheart.”

“S’okay. This always happens when I get si-ihh…. Ihih-!” Halfway down the short hallway, Steve paused with one hand on the wall as his breath began to hitch and his eyes fluttered. “Oh no come o-ohhhhh-!” Eddie watched as Steve’s hand hovered in front of his face, expression utterly helpless and slack before suddenly exploding. “IX’TSH! HiISHHue! Snf! Ugh- sorry.”

A little chuckle came from Eddie, who just shook his head, “I am the last one you have to go apologizing to for sneezing.” He assured Steve and put a hand on his lower back as he followed him. 

It didn’t take long for Steve to be dressed in some boxers and a sweatshirt since he was cold after his shower. Without even thinking about it, Eddie began pulling off his shirt and sat down on the bed to take off his shoes. The sudden sensation of fingers against his back made Eddie jump a little, and his head whipped around to find Steve tracing the dice tattoos along his spine. 

“Like what you see, Harrington?” Eddie asked in amusement as he finally kicked off his shoes to lie down beside Steve. He wiggled out of his dark pants, which got tossed to the floor as well, leaving him in boxers. Most of his upper half was covered in tattoos at this point. 

Some kind of sleepy slight hum came out of Steve, slightly congested again but not enough to hamper his speech yet. “They’re pretty. Your tattoos. Did you do them yourself?” He asked curiously, and his hand now strayed curiously over the large moth just below Eddie’s sternum. 

Eddie adjusted himself to get the blankets wrapped around them both, making sure Steve was tucked in properly before tossing the blankets over his legs. “Some smaller ones, yeah. Because I’m an idiot. Don’t tattoo yourself, Stevie. I mean it.” There’s amusement and a warning, but he leans to press his lips to Steve’s forehead again. Both checking his temperature and enjoying the simple intimacy. “Chrissy did a lot of them. Gareth, one or two, actually.”

This time, the hum from Steve was more distant, and when Eddie looked, he saw the other man was nearly asleep, tucked against him. “Get some rest, sleeping beauty. You need it. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Taking a deep, slow breath, Steve let out a long and decidedly sleepy sigh through his mouth. His nose was still a little too congested for such things. “Promise? You won’t leave?”

Something physically hurt inside Eddie to think once upon a time; Steve might’ve been in a similar spot, vulnerable and left completely alone when he didn’t want to be. “I’ll be here. I promise.” Eddie moved his hand to find one of Steve’s, interlocking their pinkies so he could squeeze the other man’s tight before bringing it up to kiss his knuckles. “I’m here, Steve.”

The reassurance was all he needed. Steve was out like a light, soft little congested snores sounding against Eddie’s shoulder as they cuddled beneath the blankets in the cozy queen-sized bed. And really… Eddie couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be. 

[osamusbigtits]

kenma will walk around the house, wrapped in his favorite blanket. just half asleep wandering until kuroo asks him what he's up to and then kenma has to desperately remember what he got up for.

[thedarkestgreys]

this bad boy is off to my beta so might as well throw up a sneak peek at yvor 30 ✨✨✨

[thelordhunkyhair]

Fitz and biana: fancy siblings

Tam and lihn: functional siblings

The triplets: complete disaster

[bex-pendragon]

Guess who's doing @100wednesday again after 84 years? Me, that's who! In light of the cancellation and pending removal of Willow 2022 from D+, I got inspired to write a few words. This show has meant a lot to me and I'm going to miss it so much.

Elora keeps looking over her shoulder. 

The others think it’s because she’s using her magic. That she’s on alert for danger.

“You can relax a little,” Kit says as they make camp. “The Wyrm isn’t following us yet.”

Elora fakes a smile. She admires Kit’s bravado; her heroism.

Elora doesn’t tell them she’s not looking for the Wyrm, or the Crone, or any of the other enemies they’ve faced. She fears them, but they aren’t the reason she looks back.

They’ve left something unfinished. Something - someone - is missing.

She can’t tell them she’s looking back because she’s looking for Graydon.

[deancaskiss]

do you think after cas is gone… after dean loses his chance at a happy ending, he starts writing. at first it’s short angry notes, words written over and over again so sharply the darkness splashes across the page and tears the paper. ‘how dare you’ and ‘how could you do this’ and ‘I hate you for leaving.’ but then, days bleed into weeks and months. and the dark black lines become softer, lighter. ‘what ifs’ start to line the page. dean writes what he would’ve said when he asked cas on a date, a real first date where he would’ve reached out and held cas’ hand and stolen a kiss. he pours words on the pages, night after night. date ideas and places he would’ve taken cas. hundreds and thousand of things they could’ve done together. things that would’ve made cas happy. he crafts what he would’ve wanted to say if he were to get down on one knee and propose to cas. by the time he gets to the end of the journal, he saves the last page for the most important note. his vows. the whole page is filled with all the things he would’ve said. should’ve said. still wants to say. the last line is one he traces over and over again. not with the pencil. no more dark angry lines or ripped pages. instead this one is traced with his ring finger over the words. ‘I love you, cas. I do.’

[babybluebex]

I LOVE your ‘you still remain’ emmet mini series it’s sooooooo good! Don’t know if you’re taking requests but what would happen if on the journey to the island they are attacked by a rogue group and maybe emmett has to save y/n from some near SA ??? Emmett just has such “don’t touch her” protective vibes!!

yes i can! sorry this took so long to write and that it's so short, i hope you like it anyway! tw for attempted sexual assualt (and a little unwanted touching), gun violence

Your steps were quiet on the creaky deck, stepping slowly and carefully. You tried to avoid splinters in your bare feet as you walked, and you looked over your shoulder to ensure that Emmett was still behind you. He sure was, stepping just as carefully as you were, on high alert for monsters, his rifle shouldered easily, as if an extension of his body. He looked hardened and rogue-ish, the apocalypse having aged him and steadied his nerves. It did that to everyone, even you— before that day, you were young, working at the same mechanic's shop that Emmett did. You only worked the front desk while he actually did work on the cars, but you were familiar enough with each other that, after the aliens came down, he took you into his family unit and protected you. And then, after Norah... Your own family had been eliminated on the first day, along with Henry and Adam, and you and Emmett were all that either of you had left.

Suddenly, there was an extra-loud creak from one of the boats anchored at the dock, and your heart seized as Emmett easily trained his rifle at the boat. You stopped your creeping forward, tensed as you awaited the clicking that meant that a monster was imminent, but something far worse awaited you. You froze fully as a man came from the shadows of the boat, and you clocked the dagger he held the instant you saw him. Fear nearly killed you— humans in this world were worse than the monsters— and you took a hazardous step backwards, towards Emmett.

"Hey," Emmett whispered gruffly, trying to stay quiet enough to not bring any monsters to you. "We don't want no trouble."

"I don't either," the man whispered. "What's in your bags?"

"We have food," you said quickly, before Emmett could say anything. You did have food, sure, though not a lot, but surely at least a granola bar would keep the guy from using that dagger on either of you. You slowly began to pull off your backpack in search of said granola bar, but the man waved his knife dismissively.

"Don't want any of that," the man murmured.

"What do you want?" Emmett asked lowly, and the man stepped off the boat and onto the dock, coming too close for comfort. You stepped backwards again, closer to Emmett, and the man quickly lunged before you were sure what had happened. He grabbed you, surprising you and making you drop your bag with a thud, and you kept in your instinctual scream of fear as you felt the cold glint of the knife touch your neck.

You had never seen Emmett look so startled, and he trained the rifle on the man at your side, trying to control his shaking hands. You breathed heavily, trying not to whimper and cry, although tears of fear welled in your eyes, and the man grumbled in your ear. "Pretty little thing," he said, his eyes trained on Emmett as he toyed with you. "Is this your husband?"

You shook your head, digging your fingernails hard into your palms.

"Boyfriend?" the man asked. "You ever fuck him?"

"Leave her alone," Emmett said harshly, maybe a little too loud. The lapping of the waves against the dock and boats and shore provided a little ambient noise that allowed you to speak at almost a normal level (what was normal anymore, though?), but his refusal to shout was harrowing.

"You wanna fuck her?" the man asked. "I bet you think about it, a tasty little thing like this... Can't even see this without thinkin' about what I wanna do."

"Em," you whimpered, finally allowing yourself to make noise. "Help."

Emmett's eyes watched as the knife trailed from your throat down your front, the curved point of it catching on your shirt and ripping it a bit. Your heart skipped a little as the man holding you hostage reached up and pawed at your breasts, feeling them and squeezing them, and you tilted your chin up as you tried to zone out. This wasn't happening. This was a dream. Just a bad dream, and you would wake up at any moment, safe in your little factory basement. Emmett would come to you and cover your mouth to keep you from crying too loud, and he would hold you and rock you until you quit, and everything would be okay.

"Don't you touch her," Emmett said, and the rifle rattled in his hands, shaking with anger. You knew his dilemma; the shot wasn't clear enough for him to take. You were too close to the man, any shot that Emmett took could easily be skewed into you. And you knew that Emmet wouldn't even attempt a shot if there was a chance that he could hurt you. "Get your fucking hands off of her."

"Or what?" the man asked. "I might just take her with me. You aren't using her; I will."

"Em!" you yelped. Panic filled you and you felt screams bubbling in your throat, and Emmett shushed you quickly.

Before you knew what was happening, the sound of the rifle being shot out echoed around the dockside, and the man slumped off of you for just long enough to allow you to fall from his arms and run back to Emmett. You heaved breaths as you collided with his warm body, and he dropped his gun to hold you tightly. You gasped and sobbed into his neck, whining and crying but trying to keep quiet enough to not attract a monster, and Emmett stroked your back. "It's okay, honey," he whispered. "I've got you, baby."

"Em," you whimpered. "Is he dead?"

"Yeah, honey, he's dead," Emmett whispered. "Don't look at him, you don't wanna see it. I've got you, honey, you're safe."

"I-I'm sorry—" you started, but Emmett interrupted you.

"Sorry for what?" he asked. "Some random creep attacked you, you shouldn't be sorry about that. I'm sorry that I couldn't protect you good enough to keep him off of you."

"Y-You did everything you could," you whispered. "Fuck, Emmett..."

"I'm right here, honey," he whispered. "But we gotta move quick, something definitely heard that gunshot."

[mac-and-thefox]

hii macc… my brain is all wonky now so if i may request silly fluffy ghoul thoughts?

what would the ghouls and ghoulettes dress up as for halloween? dew would totally be dewnesday 🥹

thankss ☺️

Hi Bex💙 here are some Halloween Ghouls for you

Mountain dresses up as a Hobbit. Complete with the hairy feet and the knee length pants and the little cape.

Rain and Swiss dress up as Dia de Muertos sugar skeletons. Rain goes all out in the black dress with the lace and flowers, Swiss looks devilishly handsome in his black suit with gold embellishment and an open shirt front to show off his chest, they walk around serenading people while Swiss plays classical guitar.

Dewdrop, of course, dresses up as Wednesday Addams with the dress and the braids and the Mary Janes.. he gets a big kick out of walking around saying sullen vaguely threatening things and scowling at everyone.

Phantom dresses up as Newt Scamander. Mountain makes a little Bowtruckle to sit on his shoulder, and Cumulus crochets him a stuffed Niffler to carry around.

Aether dresses up as David Tennant's Doctor Who. Idk why, it just seems fitting.

Cumulus dresses up as the Corpse Bride. She manages to glamour herself to actually look like her ribs are showing through the rip in the bodice of her dress. She uses her air magic to move the air around her hair and dress to make it seem like she's floating.

Cirrus dresses up as Geralt of Rivia, she goes all out with the makeup and the hair and has actual swords strapped to her back.

Sunshine dresses up as Jaskier, she finds the most outrageous, colorful fabric and borrows Swiss' lute (cmon, he totally has one) and follows Cirrus around singing made up songs in her ear

Aurora dresses up as a victorian vampire. She found her dress for this in a Broadway costume shop in NYC while on tour. It has the tightest, tiniest corset and a full length skirt with a slit up the thigh. She unglamours her fangs and goes around pretending to bite everyone. She actually bites Swiss and Mountain.

[gossipsnake]

TIMING: Current, (the day after this) LOCATION: On the edge of The Pines and Seven Peaks PARTIES: Anita (@gossipsnake), Inge (@nightmaretist), Otis (@kodiacast), and Cass (@magmahearts) SUMMARY: Inge, through the ether, spots a familiar face out in the cold and seeks out help from Otis. They come across Magma and together try to save Anita from the cold. CONTENT WARNINGS: None

Anita could tell, as she floated in and out of consciousness on the forest floor, that she was nearly done shedding her old skin. The arrow wound that had previously penetrated deep into her abdomen was healed and the only evidence of the injury laid in the dark red blood stains of the scales that had been pushed off of her body, coiled up in the molted exoskeleton that was bunched up near the rattle at the end of her tail. Her body had done its job and healed itself from the unexpected attack that had taken place days earlier. But what her body could no longer do was transform back into her human form… or move at all, really. 

It was early morning, the sun not even peeking up over the mountains that surrounded her yet, and the freezing temperatures of the Maine winter had proven to be too much for the mojave lamia to overcome. With every ounce of might she could conjure, Anita tried to get up off her back. She tried to start the journey home, one slither at a time, but all she was able to do was twitch her tail ever so slightly and create a soft shaking rattle. It barely rivaled the winds that were whipping around her, not that she really expected anyone to be nearby to even hear her. “Lo siento,” escaped from her lips as she fought to keep herself awake. Lamia, like any cold blooded reptile, can’t handle extreme temperatures for long periods of time and Anita had been battling the cold for at least two days as she molted. Her quiet apology was to herself, and to her loved ones, for the carelessness that led to the dire circumstances she had found herself in. There was no talking her way out of this mess, though, not this time. She had to hope for a miracle, one she doubted she even deserved. 

_ 

She relished in the astral, her aching earthly body forgotten as she glanced down at Wicked’s Rest. This might as well be how she hiked, how she enjoyed the last hour of night before she was tied to the earthly plane again. Inge intended for it to be a moment of respite. Of course, her intentions never worked out — and as she looked down at the forest and its nightly critters, she halted. Another astral entity balked at her for stopping in her tracks but she didn’t much care. There was a snake on the forest ground, larger than average and with a scale pattern Inge knew. A scale pattern she’d stroked, appreciated, marveled at.

She manifested back onto the earthly plane, crouching at the sight of her. There was blood and scales and an arrow, abandoned but stained with the same blood. “Anita –” She found confirmation that it was indeed her colleague, friend and occasional lover as she crouched there. 

Inge was many things, but she wasn’t equipped to carry a snake that size home nor did she have any warmth to offer it. She too was coldblooded, after all, and her already measly physical strength was limited by her own healing injury. And so she offered a promise of return, dropped a pin on her phone and searched the astral for a helping hand. Requirements of said hand were as follows: not weird about shapeshifters, strong and willing to help. Preferably awake. She scoured her mind, scoured the town and ended up staring down at Otis, slumped on his couch but awake. She appeared in front of his door, banged on it and didn’t wait long to say what she needed when he opened it.

“Otis — hi, I need your help. A person needs your help!” Person, snake – same thing. Inge tugged at his arm. “You have a car? My friend, she’s in the woods, she’s …” She frowned. “Injured. She needs tending to.” A glance. “Discreetly.”

—

The firefighter had only just closed his eyes. The night shift wasn't a particularly hard or grueling slog, but it was long. Lots of little calls. Not a lot of sleep. Better though, he thought, than any big dangers. Fires were far more common this time of year than people realized. And usually electrical, which were so much more dangerous, had a much bigger capacity for lethal spread. 

Luckily, Wicked's Rest had afforded Otis some of its namesake in the sense that the only sights he saw that night were false alarms and easy fixes. A few fallen seniors, a few folks caught out in the cold in need of shelter, a few more mysteriously dizzy and fatigued, always coming out of that strange fancy bar downtown. Dan's Cabra or whatever. Otis didn't really get what goats had to do with alcohol and dizzy patrons without a drop of alcohol in their bloodstream. Always coy about how they got into that state. He didn't pry much either though. Just did his job, until he could go home. 

Home was a run down walkup, third floor apartment. The front door didn't lock, the paint was cracked, peeling, and probably far more lead filled than the landlord would ever admit. It was creaky, leaky, and drafty. But he was allowed to make alterations to one of the rooms enough that he had a good recording studio, and that's all Otis really needed. He was a simple guy. Why would he need fancy things? No one needed those amenities, like a dishwasher, or an actual bed, or a doorbell. People who visited seemed to manage just fine. 

The knock came, the bear groaned. A long low sigh set into the pillow he'd crashed into upon arriving home. It took a considerable effort to peel himself off the couch, to walk the short space between there and the door, and he hesitated before opening it because… there was a shade of fear on the other side. Unease. Worry. Not as potent as proper fear, but still present. Still something that made Otis' tummy twinge at the thought of seeing whoever it belonged to. 

Worse, when he opened the door, it was a familiar face. Inge Endeman. The professor, or something. From the college? That was the second place they met, or was it the first? Either way, Inge was a face he wouldn't soon forget. Not with the way she tracked him down, made him spill his metaphorical bear beans and give up a dire secret he'd promised his mamas he'd never tell another living soul. Otis couldn't say he was happy to see her, but the moment she explained he was already locked into whatever this mission was. Someone was in need. That's all he needed to know. 

“Yeah. Truck. Where we goin’?” 

—

She didn’t sleep much these days. If asked, she’d insist it was because superheroes didn’t sleep much, anyway. Batman wasn’t known for taking naps, after all, and Daredevil probably hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in years. It was a solid excuse. It made sense, it was easy to claim, it could be backed up with hundreds of issues of comic books providing ‘proof.’

But it was still just an excuse.

The truth was something far less fun. The truth was far more tied to the warden’s hand that she still felt gripping her throat months later, to the empty spot beside her where Alex used to sleep, to the crypt where she and her friends had faced down Metzli’s sire and left behind so much dust and ash that sometimes she still felt as though she was choking on it. Superheroes didn’t sleep, but Cass hadn’t felt like a superhero in months now, and she was awake, anyway. She didn’t want to think about what that probably meant.

Walking helped, sometimes. Feeling the Earth beneath her bare feet, pretending she could still help people if she tried hard enough. She was out in the woods tonight, close to the road but not too close. The odds of running into someone in need of a hero were low, but she had her glamour down, anyway, like she was still Magma, still useful. She heard the occasional car on the roadside, people going home from work or the bar or wherever people went at this hour, but nothing of note.

At least, not until one of those cars stopped. 

She was curious; she usually was. She moved towards the sound carefully, prepared to peer out from a well-hidden spot where she wouldn’t be seen until she spotted —

“Otis?” Superheroes and firefighters had a ‘working relationship,’ and Cass had run into Otis more than once. But there was no firetruck nearby, and the only thing resembling flames that she could feel was her own magma. “What are you doing here? What’s —” The passenger door opened, and Cass blinked at the unfortunately familiar woman who stepped out. “Oh. Um, if you guys are going to… do something weird in the woods, can you wait until I leave?”

—

She was glad for many things. Glad that Otis wasn’t like her, ready to question everything she said, pressing to find out the truth. Glad that he didn’t ask how she’d gotten there, why she’d known he was awake, why she was asking him. Inge wasn’t often overrun with appreciation for the naive and kindhearted but today she was. “The woods.” 

She got in the driver’s seat, glad that he had a truck and she didn’t have to sink down far to get into it. She looked for somewhere to put her phone, but soon realized the truck was from the year pre-smartphone and gave up. “Just straight ahead,” she said, turning on navigation on her phone and instructing Otis to their point of destination. Of course they couldn’t drive the car all the way to where she’d found Anita (though Inge wouldn’t be opposed to it — trees regrew). So they parked, a small walk away from where her serpentine friend was. She gave Otis a small rundown, omitted some details because she figured it’d be easier if he just asked whatever questions popped in his head. She wasn’t sure how far she could trust him, after all. Desperate times, though.

Upon exiting the car, Inge was ready to start a brisk walk that would have her regret it later, when the pain settled deeper in her muscles. For now, though, she was focused. Hopeful, almost, but mostly dealing with that powerless fury that came after the damage done by hunters. If her back and gut didn’t hurt still, she’d almost consider revenge.

But before she could even start, there was another figure joining the scene. Her eyes fell on the girl who’d poured lava into her bag and narrowed. “Scram,” she told her, voice tight. “Leave now. That way.” She pointed in the opposite direction. “Bye. We have weird things to do. No time to be robbed.” Inge looked at Otis and nudged her head in the direction her phone was pointing them. “Come on.”

—

Very few people accused Otis of having the grit to rub together two thoughts to make an idea, but this was something he had studied for. Something he knew quite a bit about. “Hypothermia.” He stood firm between the strange woman and the stranger superhero. He didn't know how Magma did her special effects, or if it was just another trick of his overactive imagination, but the girl did put off a magnitude of heat that would be down right useful at a time like this. 

“You said it was hypothermia, Miss Inge, we could use all the help we kin get.” The bear nodded towards the hero, a little star struck as he'd always been every time she was on the scene. The firefighters had a sort of… section for the weird shit in town. Otis, unknowingly, had been sorted right in. He didn't notice that his company had a knack for hitting emergencies all over town rather than just in one small neighborhood. He didn't notice that the others on shift with him also had a strangeness about them. Better suited to work in teams against the oddness the town had to offer. There was a reason Otis and his company kept running into Magma, a reason they'd given the hero the number that went straight to their station. Otis didn't know, but he was happy to see the vigilante every time. Made him feel special. Like the background character in a comic book that got featured for a page. Even got a line here and there. 

“Magma, we do need your help. Please.” 

—

It wasn’t as if she was surprised that sketchbook lady remembered her. Cass was pretty memorable. She left a lasting impression, she turned heads! Still, she’d hoped that the woman might be the ‘forgive and forget’ type. No such luck, apparently. Rolling her eyes, Cass prepared herself to walk away, but something in Otis’s voice stopped her.

Hypothermia? 

“Who has hypothermia?” Cass glanced between the two, but neither of them seemed quite ‘cold’ enough to set off any alarm bells there. “That’s definitely something I can help with. Tell me what you need?” 

And so, Otis did. He explained why ‘Miss Inge’ (no way was Cass giving sketchbook lady that level of respect!) found him the way she had, that there was someone who needed help in the woods. Was there ever any question about whether or not Cass was going to lend a helping hand? She might not have been a very good superhero, especially not anymore, but she was still a superhero. She wanted to be better, to do better. She really did.

When Otis was done, she glanced to Inge. “Look,” she said, “I don’t care if you like me or not.” Her stomach churned with the lie. “I want to help. And you’d be stupid not to let me help, by the way, since heat is kind of my whole thing! So lead the way, and I’ll save the day. Deal?”

—

The wispy auburn hair and doe eyes felt like a vision to the lamia as she fought to keep hold of her own consciousness. But everything inside of Anita was running slowly and running out of time, including all inklings of rational thought. The woman she was looking up at was devastatingly beautiful and for a brief moment Anita wondered if this was the face of death coming to collect her. But the eyes were too familiar, just like the voice that spoke her name, and just as she was able to place that familiarity it was gone with the slow blink of her eyes. The interaction seemed so quick that it hadn’t even felt real. Why would Inge have been out here in the woods? If she had been here, why would she have left just as quickly as she appeared? 

No, Anita convinced herself, it was a hallucination. Her mind was crying out for help and so it manifested a glimmer of hope for itself. The choice for that hope was curious. She had time to think about all of the people she would want to see before the end as she laid there over the past forty eight hours trying to heal herself and, admittedly, Inge hadn’t quite made the list. Her mind had gone straight to family, to Metzli. And as the cold had continue to set in, Anita thought about her blood -  those she left behind in Mexico. 

Seeing Inge, even for that fleeting moment, made Anita realize just how closed off she was to this town. Isolating herself had always felt like a defense mechanism but now she was surrounded by the manifestation of that isolation and it was painful. It hadn’t protected her at all but instead made her vulnerable. Her eyes had shut again and she didn’t quite have a sense of how much time had passed when they managed to slowly flutter open again. Something had stirred her some noise off in the distance. 

With exceptional difficulty as her body felt like it was freezing solid, the lamia managed to shift her head up towards whatever she had heard. It was just enough for Anita to see some heat signatures off in the distance. One was just faintly warmer than the freezing temperatures surrounding them, one seemed rather normal, and one burned a heat she had only seen a few times before. Was her mind imagining this, too? “Cass…?,” she whispered faintly, undoubtedly too quietly to be heard from such a distance.

_ 

Otis called the little lava-flowing thief Magma and Inge would have laughed if it wasn’t for the situation. She was no good at this — she wasn’t like the other two people standing on this forest floor. There was no heroic bone in her body, but she’d be damned if she let Anita lay on that forest floor looking as she did. And though she wasn’t sure what happened, she assumed a hunter had loosened that arrow. She was done with losing things at the hands of hunters. Dignity. Lovers. A feeling of safety.

She glared between them. She wasn’t sure what ‘Magma’ was, but there was something about her that was hot, that she knew. Otis seemed to think she could help and she seemed overly eager (she tried not to be annoyed by this) and Inge was pragmatic enough to not opt for an argument in a situation like this. “My friend. Fine. You can help.”

With that, she started walking, attempting to walk as straight as possible, to not show the limp she’d gained since the factory. Her eyes were focused on her phone and Inge wished it was dark so she could travel through another plane of existence instead of figuring out the way over small forest paths that didn’t agree with her slippery shoes. She looked at ‘Magma’, wondered how far she could trust her. Probably farther than she could throw her, but she didn’t want to spare itt o her. “What is it you can do? Is it magic? Doesn’t matter. She’s cold, my friend. She’s … Lamia.” She’d figure it out when they came across her anyway. “I don’t know what happened. But she’s hypothermic, like Otis said.” 

As they neared the red pin on her phone’s map, Inge pushed through her pain and upped her pace, leaves sticking to her heels as she stepped off the path and into the thick of it. She didn’t care much about the branches that got stuck in her hair, just kept her eyes sharp for the familiar shape of Anita. When she reached her, she crouched down, face pulled in an expression she blamed on the sear of pain in her abdomen. “I brought reinforcements. Okay? Gonna get you out of here.”

—-

Admittedly, when Inge came to Otis, banging on his door, a fresh new flavor of fear flowing off her in droves, the bear didn't expect a snake to be the victim (or snictim, he supposed) in need of rescuing. A big snake, but a snake all the same. Enough people were scared of the slinky noodlers that Otis probably could have made several meals just being a wildlife photographer, though, he weren't terribly sure how well that'd work or what the rules to his special dietary restrictions were. 

Didn't matter that much though, this… very very large snake clearly meant a lot to Inge, so who was Otis to judge, really? He'd already resisted the urge to ‘woah’ upon seeing her. Best just to keep up the polite play and help a critter out. The firefighter had brought a trauma blanket, as well as a small kit (that was much more suited to a human, but the basics would likely work the same.) He was far too focused on the job at hand to figure out what the other two were jawing about. Magic? Well, no the superhero might've looked magical, but it had to be some fancy science, right? Something else Otis wouldn't really understand much of. But magic didn't exist. 

“Right miss… snake. I'm gonna pick you up now, just gonna ask real nice of you not to bite me, kay?” Otis got to work, gathering the majority of the snake up into his arms before turning towards the other two. “This… changes up the tactic a little. Gonna need somewhere we can warm her up slowly and consistently. Not too much all at once.” 

—-

Cass listened as Inge provided more details. Her friend was a lamia — something Cass only knew about thanks to Anita, and Metzli’s cohabitation with her. She thought about the woman now, about whether or not she should call her for advice on this whole thing, but that would totally ruin her reputation. Besides, it seemed simple enough — Inge’s friend was cold, and Cass was hot. The math was pretty easy to do, even for someone who’d never seen the inside of a classroom.

She trailed along behind Inge and Otis as they made their way through the woods, wondering just how Inge’s friend had been hurt to begin with. Had it been an accident? Or was there something more sinister at play? Cass’s mind went, the way it so often did, to that hand around her throat. Her hand came up the gently touch her neck as if she could still feel it there, and she walked with a bit more determination. Closer and closer to where Inge was leading them, until - 

“Anita?” She recognized the form on the ground instantly. From the cave when Luci was fixing the goo situation, from the crypt with Metzli’s sire. She’d always thought Anita’s snake form was beautiful, but right now, with it so still and so quiet, Cass felt an overwhelming amount of panic. She rushed over to the snake’s side, only to falter when Otis got there first. He was speaking, and he seemed to know what he was talking about, so Cass listened. She nodded, eyes never leaving Anita. “Tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it. Just — She can’t die. Okay? She can’t.” 

—

Anita could feel the stiffness of her body growing more intense and it made everything, including and especially staying awake feel all the more impossible. Even in her weakened state her hearing hadn’t failed her and it didn’t take long until she began to hear the soft crunch of footsteps making their way towards her. The sounds, those gentle vibrations that ran through the forest floor, felt more real than anything her eyes had seen in the past several hours. So when she saw Inge crouched beside her again Anita decided to believe what she was seeing, too. 

There was a stranger present as well. A man she didn’t recognize by sight, smell, or sound. He had a soothing tone to the way he spoke, though. If Anita were more present in her own body she would have really enjoyed being called Miss. Snake. There was no power left in her to tell him she wouldn’t bit him… let alone enough energy to actually bite anything. And then she saw Cass and it all started to feel like the scene at the end of the Wizard of Oz - and you were there, and you were there… 

The guy who was lifting her up seemed to have a plan that involved getting Anita warm and there was a soft sense of relief that rushed over her. That mixed with the looks of such genuine concern that were evident on both Inge and Cass’ faces began to feel overwhelming. Her eyes drifted from Inge, to the man carrying her, then over to Cass and she was almost glad that she was in such a catatonic state at the moment so she did not have to actually grapple with the reality of the emotions that were brewing inside of her. 

Too tired to speak, Anita let out a soft and slow “Hsssssss,” something she hoped would translate into her appreciation. She wasn’t out of the cold yet, literally, but she no longer felt she was destined to rot away out here in the Pines. 

_

So ‘Magma’ knew who Anita was. Inge figured that to be a good thing considering that seemed to mean she cared about the other. Otis, though he seemed quite out of his depth, also shot into action at the sight of the snake. Maybe she should have told him about the other woman being a shapeshifter, but she had just assumed he’d know about these things the same way she knew about plenty of things. Again, this wasn’t her forte. But she seemed to have delegated quite well.

She kept her eyes glued to Anita, taking a small step back to let the others take charge. Her eyes flicked between the two other party members, landed on ‘Magma’. “She won’t.” Her answer was resolute, because that’s how Inge felt. She thought of reptiles lying on warm stones, under warm lights or even the sun. “You – what you did, the other night. You can make yourself warm. Do that. Not as hot as then, but warm. Can you do that?”

She moved to stand next to Otis and Anita, leaving plenty of room for ‘Magma’ to warm the lamia’s body. She remembered the touch of Dīs when she’d been found, how welcome it had been after that stretch of unending pain. Her fingers reached for Anita’s, weaving with hers and giving a small squeeze. “Give a squeeze if it’s too hot?” She looked at lava girl, wished her eyes still glowed their demanding red but the forest was no longer as dark as it had been. “Can you walk with her to the car, Otis, as —” She refused to call her Magma, so just looked at her, “— you try and give her some gradual warmth?”

—

Otis nodded. His part was easy, for what it was worth. The massive snake coiled in his arms, reminding him of the time his moms had brought him to an animal education center. They were there picking up some supplies, but the lady that was running it allowed the young bear to hold an anaconda. The scales felt different, the whole snake felt different, but maybe that's just cause this had to be a northern snake. Things got bigger in the cold, right? Something about having to preserve energy cause it got way too chilly up here. Sounded right enough. Otis didn't really know much about biology, much less about things that didn't live on the ranch. 

His mama used to say that Otis’ bear must have been built for the north. Maybe that's why he picked this place out of anywhere to settle and get research done. All the frozen weather had made him was sleepy, though. And thankful for the cluster of days he always had off. 

The trip back to the truck was a little harder than the trek in. The trauma blanket looked like a foil tarp over the world's largest lumpy burrito. Probably clocking in at almost half a ton, but it was rude to ask a lady her weight, and it wasn't like the snake was going to answer. No, Otis just had to guesstimate by the ache in his shoulders by the time they'd hiked back a mile to the road. He was strong, but not necessarily built for endurance. The sight of the little blue pickup was a welcome one, that's for sure. 

“Ain't enough room in the cab, but if you can do yer… hero stuff in the bed, I can start drivin’ us somewhere safer. Miss Inge, where are we headin’?” 

—

Inge considered the question. Did she care more about letting a known thief into her house and risking getting her shit stolen or did she care more about helping Anita? The latter it was, an easy decision in the end. “My house. I’ll give directions.” Considering he didn’t have a navigation system. And she was the boomer. “It’s in Deersprings, so not too far.”

—

Anita hissed, and Cass wasn’t sure if it was a bad thing or a good one that she sounded more snake than human right now. (Probably bad, right? Everything seemed bad when she was like this, everything.) Cass found herself distracted as she stared at Anita’s scales, almost missing Inge’s words. Luckily, she snapped back to herself pretty quickly, nodding her head. “I can get warm,” she confirmed. Focusing on her hand, she pulled some of the magma away from the limb so that it was warm instead of hot and rested it in the center of Anita’s scaly chest.

It was a little hard, walking with Otis with her hand in place while also concentrating on keeping it the right temperature. It was a little bit like patting your head and rubbing your stomach at the same time; signals got a little crossed and, if you weren’t careful, you’d get the two mixed up. Cass was careful, though. She wasn’t going to mess this up, wasn’t going to risk making things worse for Anita. Still, it was a relief when they got back to the truck. Cass had never been so happy to see a vehicle in her life. 

“I can sit in the back,” she agreed with an eager nod. “I’ll warm her up. You just focus on getting us somewhere safe, okay?”

—

The first rush of warmth that extended out from Cass’ hands felt like a shock to Anita’s system. It wasn’t that the temperature was too hot necessarily, but it was just such a contrast to how deeply chilled her body had gotten. Then she felt the cool grasp of a hand in her own, which provided a similar comfort to the heat radiating around her now. The relief was not instantaneous but gradual, wavering slightly as the unlikely group trekked out of the woods and towards a questionable looking pick-up truck. It was apparent that she was beginning to feel at least slightly more okay given that the first thought that crossed her mind was whether or not that was the only means of transportation available to them. Evidently, as she got gently loaded into the bed of the truck, it was. 

Even though she had never gotten this cold before there was some instinctual part of Anita that knew a few minutes of heat was not going to be enough to really shake her out of this state that she was in. If it had been, she would have told everyone that her house was undoubtedly closer than Inge’s and equipped with a room full of heat lamps. Cass was generating more heat than her lamps could really even dream of, though, and Anita didn’t hate the idea of going somewhere where she wouldn’t be alone. 

As the truck drove along the back roads of Wicked’s Rest, undoubtedly a startling sight for anyone who may have been awake and spotted her in the back, Anita started to feel like she could move herself ever so slightly.  “Thank you,” she said softly to Cass, feeling a mix of gratefulness and embarrassment at the circumstances. It wouldn’t be long until they were at Inge’s place and truly out from the cold. 

_ 

She got back into the driver’s seat, stuffing her phone in her coat pocket as she got ready to give Otis directions when needed. She flipped down the sun visor and glanced at Anita and ‘Magma’ in the van’s bed. Her legs spread as far as they could, her body protesting against the walking she’d done but something in Inge feeling relieved all the same. In her mind’s eye she saw Sanne’s neck and the axe that undone her head from there, thought of other undead she’d lost over the years. 

Anita would be alright and that was enough for now. No room for the rage, the fear, the concern. Just the process of getting her to her house. She took her eyes off the thief and her friend, glanced at Otis. “You’re going to have to turn right up ahead, and then a left immediately.” 

Her eyes switched from Otis to the view at the back of the car to the road and eventually she said, “Thanks. For coming without question. For — carrying her.” He could have thrown the door in her face, considering the sleuthing she’d done, the intrusive way she’d dug into his life and dangled his hidden truth into his face. It said something in favor of his character, something she’d usually think of as below her. How could she do that now, though? When both the bugbear and the lava girl had jumped at the chance to help, despite her own conflicts with them? Inge wasn’t sure how she felt about it. 

But this too paled in comparison with the mission still at hand. So she kept pointing Otis into the direction of her house until they’d reached it, rushing out the car to check in on ‘Magma’ and Anita. “I’ll open the door. It’s just up there, third floor, there’s an elevator.”

—

Otis followed directions well. Part of being a firefighter. You had someone behind the wheel, and someone navigating the fastest way to wherever you needed to be. Whenever you needed to be there. That’s just what this was, wasn’t it? Inge had turned to him, thanked him like there ever was a question. He just nodded. Words escaping him now that he was on a mission. Still on a mission. Before was… direction. He had to speak because he had to take charge. He wasn’t a man of many words, at least not in person. Wasn’t as easy to get tongue tied behind the mic. But here? In the cab of his car with a creature in need in the back it didn’t matter that she wasn’t human, Otis thought, only that she had so many people who cared so deeply for her. 

Once again, the snake was in the bear’s arms. Coiled up and under a blanket, but he could tell she felt warmer. Good. Whatever Magma had in that fancy suit was powerful. Did a damn good job. Made Otis wish they had those down at the station. Maybe he’d ask her about it later. Ah, but, he had said he’d only use the number for emergencies. Right? He wasn’t too sure where the line fell. 

He followed directions again, this time leading the small group into the home that was also pretty damn cold. Otis settled the large snake where told, and stood rather awkwardly after. This was the part that the EMTs usually left. The part where he usually left. Was he supposed to leave now? His job was done. 

“Right. So.” His eyes flicked between the three ladies of the house and– was that an arm? Nah, just another trick of his imagination, right? Otis nodded again. “Call me if you need anythin’ yeah?” And with that, he turned. 

— 

Anita spoke, and it was the best thing Cass had ever said. The thanks washed over her and, for once, there was no hesitation in the way she released it. “You don’t have to thank me,” she said quietly, stroking Anita’s head absently. “Just be okay. I just need you to be okay.” With everything that had been going on lately, she didn’t think she could have handled losing Anita, too, even if they didn’t know one another as well as Cass might have liked. She wouldn’t want that for Metzli, or for Anita, either. Anita was always willing to help where Metzli was concerned; Cass liked to think the lamia would do the same for her, too. 

Eventually, they arrived at what must have been Inge’s house. Cass wondered if she should have told Otis to take them to Anita’s house instead, but… maybe this was better. She could text Metzli, let them know what was going on, and Anita could choose how much to share with them after the fact. After the way the night had gone, Cass thought that Anita deserved some choice in the matter of how it concluded.

Cass hovered as Otis lifted Anita from the truck, keeping a hand on her at all times to continue the warming process. She followed, worry practically pouring from her as they took Anita to rest her where Inge had indicated. Cass plopped down close to the lamia, wrapping a warmed arm around her.

Turning to Otis, she offered him a smile. “It was really good of you to help,” she said. Hesitantly, she added, “Thank you.” She could owe Otis a favor; there were far worse people to be indebted to. Glancing to Inge, she chewed her lip carefully. “I want to stay to help her warm up more. If that’s okay? I want to make sure she’s all right. I’m friends with her roommate — they’re probably really worried.”

—

There was such a subtle intimacy in the way Cass spoke and warmed up the lamia. Anita had developed a great fondness for her but would have never thought that the sentiment was mutual, or would result in such compassion and care. She understood why Metzli seemed to consider her to be family. She understood why having someone to care for you felt so good. 

The truck pulled into the driveway that Anita had driven into more than a few times herself, and even though everything still ached, there was an undoubtable relief that fell over her. She was warming, slowly, but enough that the dread of death had begun to fade and was steadily being replaced by the dread of embarrassment. Embarrassed that she had gotten herself in this predicament to begin with, embarrassed she needed to be rescued, and dreading the conversations she expected to need to have once she was back to being herself again. 

Once again she found herself being transported by the tall, strong stranger up into the house. Nearly as soon as he placed her down, he was turning to leave before Anita could even express any gratitude. For now, all she had left to do was get her strength back. All she had to do was let these two people who had grown to be important parts of her life help her. It was an uneasy feeling but it was far better than the alternative - a circumstance she never wanted to find herself in again.

[fuckin-sick-bih]

Lightning Bugs

Fandom: Stranger Things (Eddie Lives AU) Summary: Steve is coming down with something and Eddie realizes it and decides to do something about it. CW: Mess, mentions of Weed, Eddie has the kink and also mildly disabled from the demobats, & poor Stevie is photic Word Count: 4,915 MINORS DNI Author Note: This is a totally plotless drabble I've just been like picking at trying to fight writer's block and I finally finished it so figured I'd do a quickie edit and post. Enjoy!

“Hah…”

It’s so quiet and soft that Eddie almost misses it. He’s half asleep in the passenger seat of Steve’s BMW. They had just finished taking the kids home from a D&D session that went a bit longer than anticipated.

There was the flash of oncoming headlights from behind Eddie’s closed lids and then he heard it.

“Heh’DIShhuh!”

Eddie jumped from the sudden sound disturbing the quiet rumble of the engine and soft music playing, eyes snapping open to look at Steve. The lighter brunette had a hand shoved up under his nose and one still on the wheel. “Sorry-” he says with a sniffle and rubs his slightly pink nose with his knuckles. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

With a wave of his hand, Eddie brushes Steve off while trying to ignore the swooping sensation in his belly as the sound of Steve’s sneeze replays in his brain. “Don’t worry about it. Wasn’t even asleep, just resting my eyes.” He assures Steve then pauses for a beat before asking, “You alright?”

Steve was still rubbing his nose, just the two of them in the car or else Eddie suspected Steve wouldn’t let himself be quite so vulnerable. “Think so- just tired and my nose has been kinda bothering me all night.”

The admission makes Eddie’s stomach do the swooping sensation again. Like he’s on some amusement ride that twirls and spins unexpectedly. “Yeah?” He manages to choke out and sits up a little. “Think you’re catching the sniffles, Harrington?” It was a valiant attempt to keep up appearances, not wanting Steve to know just how much the one sneeze had affected him.

“Thhhh… Thought we were past the l-last names, Munson?” Steve retaliates, clearly fighting through another tickle that was building up in his sinuses. “Huhuh… God- urgh it’s gonna be stuck again.” He complains with what Eddie can only describe as a very adorable pout.

Soft pursed lips, slightly messy hair, and pinkish and irritated nostrils that stood out against his pale skin even in the dark of the car at night on the back roads. Jesus, Steve really was looking in need of some TLC… When was the last time Harrington had let someone take care of him instead of mother-henning everyone else? Or even slept?

Eddie leaned forward to pull his bandana out of his back pocket and reached over to press it into Steve’s hand. “Sorry, habit, Stevie.” He said it as a way of apologizing and smiled at the other. “You’re not looking so good. Think I got some cold meds at my place, or we can stop at the pharmacy on the way. Either way, I’m taking you hostage.”

The way he says it is matter-of-fact. Leaving Steve little room for argument, but Steve still tries to protest. “Eddie, no, c’mon, man. I can’t i-ihh.. impose like th-thaah…hah-! that.” Now Steve has his black bandana pressed to his nose.

“Not imposing, I’m inviting,” Eddie replies as another car rounds the bend and their headlights flash into Steve’s eyes.

The reaction was almost instant, and Steve kept his hand on the wheel expertly still, foot pressing on the brake to slow down the car. “Hud’TShhuh! Hept’SHhue! Hehhh’TSHHnxt!” The last one sounds pinched off and painful from behind the bandana but if it hurt Steve makes no comment, just sniffles, and speeds the car back up again. “Sorry.”

Eddie blinks a few times, trusting the dark and his black jeans to hide the fact that he’s having his own uncontrollable reaction now. “Jesus H Christ, bless you. You’re photic,” he says like it’s something completely common knowledge and not something he knows because of his stupid kink.

“What?” Steve asks blearily, setting the bandana in his lap to make the turn into the trailer park where Eddie lives.

Eddie can feel a blush creeping up his cheeks and he tries to ignore the way his heart thunders in his chest. “Uh- bright lights make you sneeze. Called photic sneezing or something like that. I dunno I think I heard one of the nerds talk about it after a D&D session.” He covers quickly.

Steve gives a thoughtful little hum, “Really? That’s not a thing for everybody?” he asked, sounding curious as he sniffled, sounding more congested by the minute after the sneezes had finally been let loose.

“Nah. I’ve looked at plenty of bright lights. No sneezing here.” Eddie tells Steve, his mouth feeling dry. The last thing he expected to be talking about to the guy he’d been secretly crushing on for years was his most secret kink. “Just shitty allergies, but don’t worry my immune system is tough as nails.” Just to hammer in the joke, Eddie pretends to flex his arms.

A rough-sounding chuckle comes out of Steve, the lighter brunette turning a moment to cough into his shoulder and lapel of his jacket. Some of his bangs fell into his face and so Steve swiped them back up again with a casual brush of his hand, a nervous tick Eddie had come to adore watching.

Christ, he couldn’t be thinking these kinds of things when Steve was right fucking there.

“Then I’ll be real proud of whatever bug my body cooked up when you catch it.” Steve taunts and parks in front of the Munson trailer, one hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Alright, Eddie, I’ll see you later…” He tries to dismiss him and Eddie’s rebellious streak flares.

Without even thinking, Eddie turns and pulls the key from the ignition with a wink aimed at Steve. “Can’t leave if you can’t find your keys, Harrington.” He taunts back and bolts out of the car.

“Eddie!” Steve shouts, his voice cracking under the strain of what was apparently a sore throat. He fumbles to get out of the car after Eddie and follows him into the trailer but by the time he gets in there Eddie is already standing there waiting patiently. Keys safely hidden somewhere in the trailer Steve would never find them until Eddie deemed him well enough to go back out on his own.

Eddie slung an arm around Steve’s shoulders playfully and kicked the trailer door closed, but nearly buckled standing on his bad leg. The one the demo-bats tried to damn near chew off. He winced and Steve was immediately there holding him up in return. The moment Eddie felt Stable he waved Steve off, “Buzz off, it’s me taking care of you not you taking care of me, remember?”

“Think I can’t multitask?” Steve jokes and lowers his hands slowly but still wraps an arm around Eddie, following his lead. Which happens to be down the hall to Eddie’s bedroom.

This time, Eddie made the smarter decision to use his hand to push open the door instead of his foot. He led Steve inside his bedroom, the whole thing a bit of a mess with some clothes strewn about in places, posters littering the walls in mismatched mayhem, more than a few guitars, amps, and cords around…

After the buckle from his ankle, Eddie limped a little. His pain tended to get worse at night. There had been significant damage done to more than a few parts of him and Eddie tried not to think about it all too much. He was still marveling at his lost nipple every time he looked in the mirror before showering…

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Eddie motions for Steve to come sit with him while he starts taking his boots off. “C’mon. Shoes off. You’re not getting in my bed with your grimy shoes on. You could’ve worn those to the Upside Down and that shit is not coming in my bed.” He rambles to fill the quiet that’s developed since Steve entered his room.

“You want me… in your bed?” Steve croaked out, sounding tired and confused. Like someone had just asked him to do a backflip on a tightrope not sit down on Eddie’s bed.

Eddie turned to look at Steve with a rather unimpressed expression. “That is what I just said, Harrington. Come on. Or I’m gonna beat you to the good spot at this rate.” The metalhead was pulling off his rings one by one to set them down on his bedside table. Next came the chain on his pants and wrist then his watch too.

It felt a little strange to be stripped so bare in front of Steve, but he found he didn’t mind it. He trusted Steve. Enough to take off his armor so to speak.

“Heh’DETShhuh! Uh’TSHHuuh! Ehh’hTSHUh! Ohhh my god…” Steve still had Eddie’s black bandana in his hand, which he pressed to his face in a valiant attempt to contain the sneezes.

Eddie’s heart was thundering in his chest, and it takes his brain a moment to register he needs to speak, “Bless- Jesus. Did you get any air during that fit?” he asked incredulously.

Steve brushed his hair up and back with a particularly thick sniffle. “D’not really…” Another groan came from Steve whose face fell into his hands as the congestion really started to make an appearance.

A soft chuckle came from Eddie who grabbed Steve’s free wrist to yank him down onto the bed with him. “If you wanna get more comfortable, you can get outta those jeans? Borrow some sweatpants if you want?” He offered, noticing Steve was in some rather tight-looking acid wash jeans and swallowing. Definitely not staring. Definitely not.

“Like I s-said Eddie I dod’t wadda i-ihhh ibpose.” Steve struggled to say as his breath began to hitch again, more of his bangs falling into his face as his expression crumpled helplessly for a moment to the itch.

Already Eddie was getting up to get Steve some clothes. He came back with some plain black sweatpants, a surprisingly soft ACDC shirt, and his cozy Zeppelin hoodie all of which he handed to Steve. “Here. Royal treatment for poor sick, Stevie.”

A pitiful sniffle came from Steve as he looked at the clothes in shock that Eddie would so willingly offer them up. “Why are you d-diih… doi’g this, Eddie?” He asked softly and took the clothes as he stood to start getting changed.

“Why wouldn’t I do this?” Eddie challenged in return while crossing his arms and sitting on the edge of the bed, looking away so Steve can change. “You take care of everybody, Steve. You try so damn hard to make sure you’re there for everyone. You never take time for yourself. You never let anyone take care of you. So let me take care of you.”

The shuffling around of Steve getting dressed suddenly stops all at once. Eddie was about to ask if Steve was okay when he finally spoke. “You wadt to take care of m’be?”

That confused Eddie because of course he did. “Yes! Jesus H. Christ, Steve! You think I stole your keys for shits and giggles?”

A soft, pitiful-sounding sniffle came from Steve who was frowning with the shirt only pulled over his arms but not his head yet. His entire torso is on display for Eddie. The scars from the demobats were healed over now. Gnarled, pink, and raised but healed. “D’no ode’s ever… wanted to actually take care of b’me before.” He admitted quietly. Eddie watched his soft belly starting to move in slightly choppier motions while his chest expanded as his breathing hitched.

“Hiih uh… IhhDSHHUH! HupTSHHUh! Snff ugh…” Steve had cupped his hands over his face in a rush to sneeze and tried to snuffle back the mess now trapped behind them. “Uh- fuck- umb… Eddie-? Cad you-?”

The darker haired man raised his brows and then scrambled for the dropped bandana turned hanky on the floor. “Yeah yeah, here, Stevie-” and he carefully pressed the black and white fabric into Steve’s hands. “There you go.”

“Thagks-” Steve said as he cleaned up his hands and face before sheepishly glancing at Eddie. “I’ll wash this for you I probise.” He said seriously to which Eddie rolled his eyes.

Eddie reached forward to gently brush Steve’s bangs back and feel his forehead. “Blow your nose, Steve. I can barely understand you.” He admonished, smiling a little as he got to watch a blush spread over Steve Harrington’s features. Christ, this was like one of Eddie’s wet dreams come true.

Focus, Eddie, focus. Steve first, be horny about it later. He reminded himself and then Steve blew his nose while Eddie’s hand was still resting on his forehead. It took all of Eddie’s willpower not to cream his pants right then and there as Steve gave a wet, gurgling blow.

There must have been some kind of look on his face because Steve spoke up with his nose still buried in the bandana. “Sorry. I kdow this is ki’d of gross. I’ll be totally fide to take care of byself if you let b’me go hobe, Eddie. Seriously.”

“No. Nope. I simply cannot, in good conscience, allow my sick best friend out of my sight.” Eddie said loud and dramatic as he stood slowly with a slightly pained-sounding grunt. He helped get the shirt the rest of the way onto Steve. “There. Bit tight on your shoulders but well… you’re all… jocky and shit.” He waves a hand at Steve and drops back down onto the bed.

Steve gave a quiet, slightly congested chuckle and swiped at his nose with the bandana a few more times. “Yeah, basketball and swimming ki’da does that…” He sniffled a little and sat down near Eddie.

Something else nagged at Eddie and he soon spoke up. “You’re not gross, Steve.” he said softly. “Far from it.” He added quietly and smiled a little as he admired Steve in his clothes for a few moments. So, fucking cute, he thought to himself.

“I ab. I’b all sdotty add gerby add I sou’d like I gargled glass.” Steve mumbled and lifted an arm to cough into it softly as if his body sought to prove his point about his throat being affected.

With a small shake of his head, Eddie guided Steve up to the top of his bed so he could pull the unmade mess of sheets and blankets over him. “You’re sick, comes with the territory, and anyone who isn’t willing to be with you when you feel like crap doesn’t deserve you. Got it?” He tells Steve, pointing a finger at the other man to give him a jab to the chest.

For a few seconds, Steve seems almost frozen, smiling softly at him before he snaps out of it and nods. “Yeah… yeah okay, Eddie.” He sniffles ever so slightly and rubs a finger under his nose once again. “Ugh, do you baybe have sobe tissues, Eds? Thiiihh ugh thi’gk I’b godda s-sdeeze agaid…”

It took Eddie’s brain a second to register what Steve was asking him for before Eddie shook himself into action. “Huh? Ohh tissues? That’s what you said. Yeah, I got you, man.” He assured him, grabbing a mostly full box from the bathroom just next door to his room to toss them to Steve. “Take as many as you need. I have more boxes. My allergies get real bad in spring and fall.” He admits, definitely aware it was nearly spring, and he’d soon be as bad, if not worse, than Steve.

“Hii’RSHuuh! Ehh… ehXT’SHuh! Ugh d’no… cobe od that’s dot all of theb…” Steve groaned and rubbed at his nose with the tissues he’d hurriedly snatched from the box, though not quite in time to catch the first sneeze. The second he’d thankfully buried his face into the tissue as mess had burst forth with the force of it. “Fuck, I’b sorry… yesterday by throat tickled a little add I thought it was baybe just, y’kdow, spri’g bei’g od it’s way…” Steve shook his head and grabbed another tissue to make sure his face was clear. “But I’b odly ever a total bess like this whed I’b sick.”

It was like the cogs in his brain had stopped meshing correctly, gotten jammed or something by all of the horrifically hot things Steve was saying, and caught fire. Eddie twirled and pulled on the ends of his hair a little as if he was trying to use it to ground himself. Or just to cover his ears so the imaginary smoke from his brain didn’t escape.

“Steve, it’s… it’s fine, seriously. You’re fine. Well- no, okay, you’re sick. Buuuut… that’s okay! Because I’m gonna take care of you because that’s what good friends do.” He insisted before spinning around to go searching for something in one of his many drawers. Partly to hide his utter embarrassment and likely bright red face and because he had an idea.

After a few moments, he made a triumphant sort of sound as fingertips connected with plastic. “Gotcha-” He pulled out a flashlight, flicked it on, and smacked it against his opposite palm a few times to get it to flicker on. Then switched it on and off a few times to get it working properly.

Steve’s slightly hitchy breaths were still coming from behind Eddie so the curly-haired man spun around he called out, “Hey, Harrington!” And flicked on the flashlight to shine it into Steve’s eyes.

The moment the light hit Steve’s pupils, they contracted, and his breath hitched in earnest while his nostrils flared. He fumbled blindly for a tissue, his chest swelling as he just barely managed to press one to his face before- “Hhh’TSHue! Hiih’DSHuh! Eddie, what the fuck?” He complained voice muffled from behind his tissue as he cleaned up from the aftermath of that.

“Sounded like you were really struggling with those sneezes, is all.” Eddie teased with a small wink at Steve, bringing the flashlight over to set it on the bedside table in case they needed it later. It was thankfully always pretty dim in Eddie’s room, the metalhead never much one to really brighten the place up.

Steve was busy plucking another tissue to blow his nose, the thick and congested sound of it making Eddie tense. “Ugh sorry, but hey at least I cad breathe a little better for dow.” He sniffed as if to try and prove his point, but it just sounded wet and distinctly like Steve was coming down with something.

Trying to prove he could breathe was almost a little too much for Eddie and he bit his own tongue as hard as he dared to. “Uh-huh. Yeah, you totally don’t sound like you’re drowning.” He teased back, briefly limping back to the bathroom to rummage in the medicine cabinet. After pulling out a package of cold medicine, a jar of Vicks, and a glass of water, Eddie settled down on the bed in front of Steve.

���We got cold meds, vapo rub shit, and water. Sound good?” Eddie asked as he held everything up, already getting out the pills for Steve to pass them over with the water.

The lighter-haired brunette knocked back the pills with a few sips of water and eyed the jar a little suspiciously. “That’s godda bake be sdeeze…” He said warily but let out a little sigh through his mouth. “But fuck I really wadda breathe- alright. Yeah. Screw it. Let’s do it.” And without another wasted moment, Steve pulled up the sweatshirt and t-shirt to expose his chest once again.

The split second before Steve’s bare chest was in his face again, Eddie was still deep in his thoughts wondering just how long of a cold shower he’d need to calm down from the other’s sneezing. His heart leapt into his throat as his big, brown eyes were suddenly scanning over every delicious inch of Steve’s torso once more. Every freckle, old and new scar, curve, and rise of his stupidly gorgeous body-

“Uh-” It was like all semblance of coherent thought and words left him at once and he offered up the jar instead. “I- yeah. Jar. Works. Good. For that.” Already he could feel his face heating up and Eddie wanted nothing more than to faceplant into his pillows and never leave them.

There was a look of confusion on Steve’s pale face as he looked up at Eddie. “You okay?” And when Eddie glanced at him, maybe he caught the hint of a smile, so Eddie cleared his throat and nodded.

Eddie decided in a split second that this was an opportunity not to be wasted. “Yep. Good. Fine. Totally. Just uh-” He was unscrewing the top of the jar and shuffling a little closer to Steve, wrinkling his own nose at the smell of the Vicks. “Ugh, jeez. That smell. Anyway, hold your shirts up and I’ll rub it on for you? Deal? I really meant it when I said I wanted to take care of you, Stevie…”

Because he did. Here was this man who would lay down his life for any of the kids in their group, any of their friends, any of the grown adults in their stupid town probably, and never ask for a thing in return. Never ask for a moment to himself. Eddie thought he was an idiot for it and for not taking the time to take care of himself in between. But fuck was he sweet, thoughtful, caring, and drop-dead gorgeous.

Especially now as his eyes were a little glassy with the slightest hint of the start of fever and more red than pink nostrils. “Deal.” He murmured, raising a hand to turn his head and cough into a fist. “Mh. Sorry. Snff! I really uh… appreciate this e-ehh… Eddie EXT’sHHhuh!” The first of many sneezes had Steve’s whole body going tense and jerking to the side as he sneezed, expression pinched and then settling. “Ngh…” He snatched a tissue with a free hand to swipe at his nose.

Swallowing down his nerves, Eddie scooped up some of the Vicks to carefully rub it onto Steve’s chest. His skin was warm to the touch, but not overly so, and of course, the tips of his fingers brushed the patch of chest hair the other man had. It made him smile as he carefully rubbed in the menthol-smelling goo around it until after a few moments Steve’s chest started to rise and fall in choppy motions once more. “Gonna sneeze, big boy?” He asked, voice soft but he couldn’t keep the edge of hopeful playfulness out of it.

“Y-Yeah hhhang… on HhhT’SHhuh! IT’sHHuh! Huh… HUPT’SHHuh! Oh by god…” Steve shuffled a little to grab a fresh tissue and pinch it over his nose with one hand as he blew. It was productive and Steve grimaced while Eddie felt a pulse of arousal shoot through him. “Ugh, sorry… your hand felt really nice though.”

It looked as if Steve’s eyelids were drooping slightly and Eddie smiled a little again, resuming the small, gentle circles he’d been using to rub in the Vicks. “Yeah? I can keep doing this?” There was the smallest of prickles in the back of his own sinuses from the strong, lingering scent of the menthol so Eddie tried to one-handedly put the lid back on the jar.

Steve spotted him struggling and reached out to hold the jar still for him. “Got it? Snff! Snf! Ugh, shit my nose is running.” He mumbled, still sniffling wetly despite his previous nose blow. Though he did sound a lot less congested already.

Eddie was about to respond when the tickle in his nose suddenly flared to a desperate itch, making his own breath hitch. Fuck, not now. “Ihhh…” His eyes fluttered shut and his hands froze, nostrils twitching as he could do nothing but wait for the sensation to either go away or come forth with a vengeance.

“Eddie?” Steve sounded worried and Christ that was the last thing Eddie wanted to do, worry Steve. Especially when he was already sick. With his eyes shut, Eddie couldn’t see him, so he just vaguely flapped a hand at him as his breath hitched again.

“Ihihh-! IxxT’SHHiew! IehhTshhoo! Heh… Hen’xt’SHHiew! Ugh… heh? Oh fuck more? HeT’SHiew!” Eddie gave a little shake of his head and finished screwing on the lid to the Vicks. “Whew. Fuck, that’s strong stuff. That always happens, don’t worry.” He assures Steve with a grin and a small sniff of his own. Which was true. Eddie and strong scents didn’t really mix.

Once he’d tried to use an incense to cover up the smell of weed and it had made him sneeze so much that by the time Wayne got home, he was still sneezing. And it hadn’t even worked. Not that Wayne had much cared anyway. Just told him to crack a window instead next time.

There was a small smile on Steve’s face when Eddie finally found the courage to look up at him. “Bless you, Eds. That’s pretty cute. That the Vicks makes you sneeze even when you’re not sick.” It was so soft. So genuine. Eddie almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but Steve was looking almost ready to drop off to sleep. How could Eddie argue with him when he was looking so adorably sleepy and cozy?

Instead, Eddie melted and gently tugged his shirt back down before tucking him in. “Thanks, Stevie. Now get some rest. You need it. I’ll be right here if you need me.” He set the jar aside, undid his belt, and kicked off his jeans before curling up under the blankets beside Steve in just his boxers and t-shirt.

“Thanks, Eds…” Steve mumbles, rolling onto his side to face Eddie. The curly-haired man stared in the dimly lit room at the lighter brunette, drinking in his features with unabashed leisure for once. Those twin moles that could have mimicked a vampire bite on his neck made him smile and he felt the urge to lean forward and kiss them rise up within himself. Yet he held back.

Then Steve’s face scrunched. Particularly around his nose and those red, slightly damp, and shiny nostrils that flared. “Heh…” He sleepily lifted a hand to paw at his nose a little. “Eddie?” He croaked out softly, clearly not yet asleep if he was struggling with a sneeze.

The way his heart skipped excitedly at Steve saying his name somewhat breathless and croaky like that shouldn’t be so exciting, but Eddie licked his lips and hummed softly. “Yeah, Stevie? Need somethin’?” His own voice came out a little breathless at first and he quickly remedied it as he continued to sound more concerned.

“Need… ehh-! Heh-eh… need to s-sneeze… can’t…” Steve admits as his breath continues to hitch ever so slightly, one hand still rubbing a little at his nose. “Just waah… eh-! want to sleep.”

Of course, Eddie didn’t need to be asked twice and knew exactly what to do. He rolled right over to grab the flashlight off the nightstand and aimed it at Steve’s face. “Open your eyes for me so we can make sure this works. It’ll just take a second. Promise.” One of Eddie’s hands came up to move the box of tissues closer, pressing one pre-emptively into Steve’s hand that was still hovering near his nose.

Opening his eyes a little, though they were watering with that incessant urge to sneeze, Steve looked at Eddie and seemed to spot the flashlight because his eyes widened in surprise. Exactly at that same time, Eddie switched on the flashlight and got to watch Steve’s sneezy expression crumple lit up in all his glory.

Steve’s eyes fluttered back shut, brows pinching downward, nose scrunching, and nostrils flaring as he sucked in a breath before jerking forward into the tissue. “HahDT’SHH! HenT’SHH! Heh… EHT’SHHuhh! Oh…” Blinking a few times, Steve groaned and snatched some more tissues to give some wet blows.

As Steve blew and wiped his nose, Eddie realized he needed to turn off the flashlight, so he did and set it aside again. He’d been so utterly transfixed on Steve’s sneezing fit that he’d just laid there practically slack-jawed watching the other. “Bless you, feeling better after that?” It took everything in Eddie to try and keep his voice level. Normal.

A few wet sniffles came from Steve as he nodded, “Yeah, yeah I’m good. Snff! Ugh, all thanks to my own personal lightning bug.” He murmurs with a happy little hum and Eddie let out a soft gasp as he felt a warm arm slide around him. “This okay?” Steve mumbled, suddenly pressing closer than he ever had before. Practically up against his chest now.

Where was this cuddly side of Steve Harrington coming from? he wondered to himself. If it had anything to do with Steve being sick, Eddie wasn’t going to go looking gift horses in the mouth. “Yeah, Stevie.” He murmured, feeling like a weight was lifting from his shoulders as Steve’s warmth settled into his own bones. “This is great. You rest. I’ll keep you warm.” His own arm snaked around Steve’s waist while his leg hooked around the other man’s as well.

Eddie trailed his fingertips lazily along Steve’s back, following the beautiful hills and valleys he could only feel through the shirts. Given how Steve seemed to melt under the gentle affections, they were incredibly welcomed and soon Steve was fast asleep snoring congestedly against Eddie’s chest. “Happy to be your lightning bug anytime, big boy.”

[osamusbigtits]

osamu coming home to find suna laying tummy down on the counter, legs bent at the knee so they're up in the air, crossed at the ankle, head resting in his hands. osamu wants to yell at suna for being naked on their fucking counter, but he's distracted by suna's body. and...

"is that... frosting on your ass?" osamu blurts.

suna smiles. "you enjoyed the whipped cream. I thought I'd treat you to my ass as well."

osamu makes his way to suna, placing his hands on suna's hip and thigh. "it's a little messy."

"you try putting frosting on your own ass," suna says, laying his head on the counter. "come on, big boy, eat up."

[thedarkestgreys]

fexi--“ truth is that i’m so damn in love with you that i don’t know what to do with myself."

thank you for your patience on this! hope it’s worth the wait. 🩷🩷🩷

-

“Did I do something wrong?”

Lexi hates how small her voice sounds when asking that question, but it’s the only logical conclusion she can come up with. Her blooming friendship with Fezco over the last several months has been the highlight of her Junior year - who knew her friend’s favorite drug dealer was as soft hearted as he was soft spoken? - but in recent weeks she’s felt him pulling away. Not fully, not enough that it would be obvious to anyone else, but Lexi’s been ditched enough by friends in the past that she knows the warnings signals better than most.

She’s sitting on the counter of Fez’s store, feet swinging anxiously as she tries to look anywhere but directly at him, absolutely failing her attempt. A wild range of emotions flash across Fezco’s face in a blink of an eye before he settles on confusion.

“The fuck you talkin’ ‘bout Lexi?” he asks, looking at her over the clipboard she gifted after watching him lose track of his stock list more than once. “You damn near perfect girl, c’mon now.”

It’s moments like this, ones where he puts her on a pedestal, that she thinks she’s just getting in her head. But then something else will happen - awkward goodbyes when he’s dropping her off or a strained voice on the phone - and Lexi’s reminded of every failed friendship she’s ever had.

She knows she is too much of a people pleaser, too happy to let other people walk all over her if it means an ounce of affection in return, and she’s trying her hardest to change that. It fucking hurts that the person who pointed this all out to her and gave her the confidence to stop being a doormat is doing the exact thing they’d warned against, but that’s life sometimes right?

Lexi didn’t bring this up to back down now. If he’s going to end their friendship, she’d rather he rips it off like a bandaid instead of letting her down gently.

She pushes her hair behind her ears and straightens her spine. “If you don’t want to be friends anymore, just tell me outright. You’re not saving my feelings by slowly withdrawing from me Fezco. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”

“The fuck?” the man utters again, shaking his head slightly. Fez tosses the clipboard down beside her, Lexi managing to only flinch slightly at the sound. “Did Ash say sumn to you?”

Lexi shakes her head no. “He didn’t need to. I’ve put it together myself.”

Blue eye stare her down intently, like they’re attempting to call her bluff, but there’s nothing there for him to catch her on. Ashtray has been more or less indifferent to her role in his brothers life since the first time they met and barely speaks to her unless he absolutely needs to.

Fezco lifts a single eyebrow in question as he places himself directly in front of her, arms crossed in front of his chest. “Put what together?”

“Come on Fez,” Lexi sighs lightly. “I know I come on really strong when I value someone’s friendship, and I can tell that you’re over my bullshit. It’s not the first time this has happened, you know. If you don’t want to be friends anymore you should just tell me.”

A long sighs winds it’s way out of the man in front of her, Fezco leaning his head back as he blinks up at the fluorescents on his ceiling. He’s rubbing the back of his neck as he finally looks back down at her.

Okay, this is it, this is when he tells her she’s right. Lexi braces herself for impact.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ Lex,” Fez replies, stepping forward to close the gap between them. “Ion know where you got all these ideas ‘bout what I’m feelin’, but Imma tell you that yo’ ass got most of it wrong.”

“Most of it?” The question slips out before she can process it, probably because Fezco’s pushing his way between her knees in order to grip his hands onto her hips.

“I mean yo’ right about one thing,” Fezco smirks, thumbs rubbing smoothly under the edge of her cardigan against the skin of her waist, creating a blazing path as her hands come up to his shoulders of their own accord. “Ion wanna be yo’ friend anymore.”

Lexi blinks. “What?”

“Fuck baby,” Fez responds, closing the space between them in order to rub his nose against hers. “Truth is that I’m so damn in love witchu that Ion know what to do with myself. You got me beyond fucked up Lexi.”

“I do?”

She feels his smile more than she sees it, the way his mouth is brushing against hers. “Hell yeah. You got me nervous as hell. You know what typa power you hold in order to make a drug dealer nervous Lex?”

Lexi’s mind has gone pleasantly blank at Fezco’s words. It takes her several moments to allow herself to reboot before she realizes he hasn’t kissed her yet because he’s waiting on an answer, waiting for her to show him she’s good with how quickly he flipped the script on her.

Lexi grips the collar of his sweater tightly before she finally whispers. “Show me.”