#sorry if i fucked any of this up i had to pull it manually from ao3

[ao3feed-berlermo]

The Swan's Symphony

The Swan's Symphony https://archiveofourown.org/works/42479625 by @nharidy

Not a year after the miraculous escape of the banda, their happiness is overturned when Palermo makes a discovery that changes everything. Once again, war is declared. The banda returns for a third strike.

Words: 2431, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M, Gen, M/M

Characters: Berlin | Andrés De Fonollosa, Palermo | Martín Berrote, Professor | Sergio Marquina, Denver | Daniel Ramos, Stockholm | Mónica Gaztambide, Marseille | Jakov (La casa de papel), Bogotá | Santiago López, Helsinki | Mirko Dragic, Lisbon | Raquel Murillo Fuentes, Original Characters

Relationships: Berlin | Andrés De Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote, Lisbon | Raquel Murillo Fuentes/Professor | Sergio Marquina, Denver | Daniel Ramos/Stockholm | Mónica Gaztambide

Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Berlin survives the Mint Heist, The banda returns, Canon-Typical Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

[caramilena]

Swing

Lumberjack!Logan x f!reader

Summary: Logan fucks you at his work

Rating: explicit

Warnings: 18+(Minors DNI), p in v, smut, dirty talk, fingering, reader has hair, Logan can pick up reader, established relationship, reader ogles Logan, nicknames (honey, baby, sweet girl), competency kink, no mention of Logan’s powers.

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Logan had left for work in a rush that morning. Work was hectic with the new contracts he’d taken on. He was also handling a management position until the real manager- a frail, old man- had recovered from his hip replacement surgery. So, he had a lot on his plate at the moment.

That’s why, when he forgot to grab the lunch you had packed him, you decided to stop by his workplace to drop it off. He was already quite overworked so you made it paramount that he didn’t skip meals, if you could help it. It was a short drive… And maybe you’d get a chance to watch him swing an axe, shirtless. 

Once you got there, Logan wasn’t in the office. After asking around, you gathered that he went into to the woods for chores. Already tickled by that information, you didn’t waste your time to go find him immediately.

The wind caressed your cheeks and flew your hair about as you walked into the forest in search of him. He couldn’t be too far. Birds flew overhead. The tree leaves danced with the wind. You stepped over any branches or uneven ground as you cautiously traversed the wilderness. A few meters away, faint clacking sounds could be heard. At last. You picked up the pace. This was a pleasant afternoon walk practically. 

As you got closer, you could hear grunts and thuds, successively. You stilled when the source of your affections and concerns came to view. He donned his white tank top, overshirt probably discarded somewhere. He raised both arms that clasped a mighty axe over his head and brought them down with enough force to halve the wood. There was a pile of cut planks to his left. Every raise of his arms would cause the muscles in his back to ripple with life and tighten under the skin. Skin that glistened with a thin, shiny sheen of sweat. The air was relatively chill, but the physical exertion was what probably caused the faint perspiration.

Every downward motion as he hit the wood, would trigger the muscles in his tricep to tighten and contract, like your insides as you watched it all unfold, transfixed. His thick forearms were corded with years of manual labour. Of course, his biceps were your favourite pillow. Extensive physical labour was the foundation of his robust and sturdy physique. He was big and dependable. Competent, like no other man you had been with before.

He hadn’t noticed your presence yet since you stood facing his back, so you took your time ogling him as he worked. Aware of the growing wetness in your panties. Your eyes travelled down to his big, veiny hands as they gripped the handle of the axe. Mind immediately reminiscing to when they were pumping in and out of your messy hole. 

As you attempted to shift your weight from one foot to other and relieve the growing tension between your thighs, you accidentally stepped on a branch. His head snapped up and back. The deep frown between his brows relaxed slightly when he saw it was you.

“Hey,” he straightened and dropped the axe on the ground, “didn’t see you there. Were you waiting long?” 

He grunted as he walked over to a nearby tree and bent down to pick up the brown flannel shirt he had originally left the house in. Pulling it over his shoulders and beginning to button up, to your disappointment.

“Not too long,” you waved dismissively. “You forgot your lunch…” 

“Oh.” He paused. “My bad, honey. Sorry you had to come all this way,” he walked over to you, taking your hands in his and squeezing. He looked apologetic as he stared down at you.

“Are you kidding? It’s not everyday I get to watch you work in a tanktop,” I shrugged as if it’s a no-brainer that I’d miss an opportunity like that.

His mouth twitched and one corner turned up. “Yeah? You like what you see?” He stepped closer, crowding you.

You looked around before leaning in and whispering, “wouldn’t you like to know.”

His warm hands that still clasped yours, squeezed, thumb running circles on your knuckles. His eyes flitted behind you to also check for people nearby. He pulled your hands behind your thighs and held them there, walking you back until you felt your back press against a tree. His eyes darkened as he looked between your mouth and eyes. “Show me.”

It would’ve been nerve-wracking doing something like this in public, but seeing him in this virile, sweaty state, ignited a fire that couldn’t be snuffed with an entire waterfall. You took his hand and shoved it in your underwear. Right where it belonged right now. Lauding yourself internally for wearing baggy, sweatpants that made the action possible.

His nostrils flared and his lips pursed. He buried his face in your hair and groaned a low ‘fuck’. His fingers immediately began to slide through the wetness and circling the entrance. You gasped and gripped his forearm. “Did you get so soaked from just watching me, baby?” He grunted as his thumb circled around your clit.

A soft, needy sound came from the back of your throat. It was ridiculous when he put it like that. But it was true… He chuckled darkly, “dirty girl.” Before slipping two fingers in to the hilt.

You gasped and clenched around his digits immediately. He pumped furiously, curling his fingers. Swearing under his breath as the motion created wet, squelching sounds. “Oh honey, did you come here just to get fucked?” He mumbled in your ear. “I don’t fuck you enough at home?Now that you’re showin’ up to my work with this needy pussy,” the last two words were delivered with two quick slaps to your cunt.

You whimpered, you wanted to protest against those sentiments but he just shushed you with a thumb to your lips. The same thumb he was rubbing your clit with previously. You could taste your arousal on his thumb as he dragged it across your bottom lip. His brown eyes were practically swallowed up by his pupils as he gazed at you. “It’s okay,” he crooned. “I’ll fuck you wherever you want, baby.” He grinned indulgently and leaned in.

His lips pressed against yours and he hummed against the taste of your arousal on them. One of his hands travelled up your nape to tangle in your hair and angled your face up, while his other hand kept pumping into you. You moaned as his tongue licked into your mouth. Deep, rumbling growls from his chest rang in your ears. His fingers were repeatedly thrusting up into the spongy wall that made your knees weak. 

“M’close, Logan…” you mumbled against his mouth once he pulled back to look at you. He responded with fast swipes of his finger on your clit. Your back arched and a moan left your parted lips. But just before you could reach the bliss of coming around his fingers, he pulled his digits away. You frowned, “what-“

In a swift motion and a grunt, he pulled you up by the backs of your thighs to hitch around his waist. Your hands immediately went to circle around his neck for balance. “How about you help me with this little problem first, sweet girl..” he said huskily and pressed his clothed erection against the damp spot on your sweatpants.

You suppressed a whine as you pulled your sweatpants down your hips and he helped jostle them down your ankles. He quickly unbuttoned his jeans and pulled out his member. Sliding it over your covered core and at the edges of your underwear with a low groan. Your toes curled as he teased you and you cried out his name in warning. His chest rumbled with a chuckle and he pulled your panties to the side. You felt his cock twitch at your entrance. “Look at her, she’s drooling for my cock… Should I give it to her?”

“Please.” You shifted your hips forward impatiently. He tutted disapprovingly at that. 

But all the same he gathered up your slick with his tip, and pushed in. In one go, he seated himself all the way to the base. You both moaned at the sensation. You were filled to the brim. Your head dropped forward to rest on his shoulder. He was sliding impossibly deep.

He picked up the pace and began to put his weight behind each thrust. You moaned in hiccuped sounds as he bounced you on his cock. There were voices all of a sudden. Distant but unmistakable. They didn’t get closer though. It just highlighted the fact that you guys were outside and anyone could happen upon you in this compromising position.

Your eyes widened in worry but you clenched around him. At that, his already thinning restraint, extinguished to nothing. His jaw clenched and the vein in his neck looked ready to pop. He snapped his hips faster. Growling in your ear as each thrust punched the air out of your lungs. “You want others to watch you take my cock like a good girl?” His hand quickly found its way to your clit again and began rubbing quick, tight circles on it.  You moaned loudly and he slapped a hand over your mouth.

Your eyes rolled back as his hard thrusts drove you up and down the side of the tree. Your hoodie was sure to be stained and possibly torn by the friction.

His hips stuttered and you knew he was close. He buried his face in the side of your neck as he thrusted a few more times. Growling when he couldn’t hold back anymore. 

Your hands squeezed his nape and he pulled his face back to kiss you deeply. Tongue in tune with his thrusts. Your entire body tensed as you came. Thighs shaking with the abrupt and powerful force of your orgasm. He ripped his mouth away to moan at the feeling of you squeezing him when he was already close. 

His teeth sank into your neck as he thrusted unsteadily a few more times before coming inside with a drawn-out grunt. He didn’t pull out until every drop was deposited in you. He panted once he was done and cupped your cheek. “You okay?” His warm, green eyes searched your face for discomfort.

You smiled and nodded, “Just peachy.” He snorted in amusement and helped you down. 

He pulled your sweatpants up and patted your mound over them, appreciatively, “don’t waste a drop. I will be checking.” 

You left that place 10 minutes later, still leaking his cum and thoroughly satisfied. 

Notes: first time writing smut, scared to post. Needed more Logan fics so I ended up writing one.. let me know if I missed any warnings!

[fuctacles]

<< 3 | 4 | 5>>

The storm comes to a head late at night in the form of knocking at his front door. It's muffled, but the space is small enough for him to hear. Confused, he closes his book to have a peek at his porch. He doesn't see anyone, but the weird knocking continues, followed by scratching. That eases his worries immediately and he opens up the door without much thought. Sure enough, his dog friend is sitting on the porch.

"What are you doing here this late?" Eddie asks, looking around as if the owner could show up out of the darkness with pitchforks and accusations. He moves to the side. "Come in, I don't think Steve wants to see me anyway. Leave as much hair as you want." Eddie smiles dryly at the dog.

Without a word, well, obviously, it's a dog, but without even a look in his direction, the dog moves towards his bedroom.

"Came in for sleepy cuddles, huh?" Eddie chuckles to himself. He latches back the door and moves towards the kitchen to grab a snack for himself and the dog. He's putting an extra slice of ham on a plate when a voice startles him, coming in from the closed doors to his bedroom.

Unmistakably human. Unmistakably Steve's.

"Uh, Eddie? Can I borrow some pants?"

Eddie's brain reruns a whole passage on mimics from his monster manual. Then on faeries and demons and goes straight into thoughts of Demogorgons. His walkie is in the bedroom.

"Eddie?"

He does the next best thing and grabs the heaviest pan he can find.

"I can hear you man," Steve's voice comes with a sigh when he approaches the door. "I swear it's me and I'm sorry for scaring you, I'll explain everything in a minute." Eddie lowers the pan. "But I'd really like to be wearing pants while I do that."

The request is weird enough to settle his nerves and finally open the door. And sure enough, there is Steve Harrington, butt-naked save for the blanket he wrapped himself in. 

"What the fuck?" Eddie risks speaking up, his grip on the panhandle tightening. He glances towards his window. It's closed and all the trinkets on the sill below remain untouched. "Where's my dog?" he asks next, eyes dropping to the floor.

"Come on, man." Steve's fingers twist in the fabric of the blanket, and his face is a picture of pure distress. 

Eddie decides to show some mercy and, not taking his eyes off the intruder, inches his way to the dresser where he fishes out that one pair of hand-me-down sweats he's never fully grown into. They should be big enough to fit Harrington's ass. If that even was him.

He throws the pants at Steve, who fumbles to catch them while keeping the blanket covering him up. They stare at each other for a long while until Steve raises his eyebrows expectantly. 

"You gonna turn around or...?"

Eddie shakes his head stubbornly. He crosses his arms for good measure, despite the pan making it awkward and uncomfortable.

"I'm only half convinced you're not a mimic. Or a Vecna hallucination. So no, I'm not turning my back on you," he scoffs.

Steve's eyes widen at the mention of their last demonic opponent. He seems to understand Eddie's reservations a little bit better. 

"I swear I'm not," he says softer, looking guilty for scaring his friend even further than he already had. "I'm sorry for freaking you out," he continues, turning around himself. The blanket drops and Eddie never had another butt-ass naked man in his bedroom before. Golden boy Steve, too, among his band posters and trailer trash glory? A truly poetic sight. 

"I just had to come clean."

Steve bends over and the sweats don't get pulled up fast enough for Eddie to miss the twin moles on his right cheek.

He turns back around quickly, scratching his forearm self-consciously.

"Dustin's right, I'm just making it more difficult than it has to be."

Okay, so maybe involving Henderson didn't backfire as badly as Eddie feared. On the other hand, he had half-naked Steve Harrington, squirming uncomfortably at his place, so it was hard to tell. 

"Well, I'm here and listening, so you can go any moment now," Eddie prompts him, leaning against his desk. He observes Steve open and close his mouth hesitantly, and rolls his eyes. "Okay, kitchen," he commands, straightening up. When Steve doesn't move, he points at the door with his pan. "You go first, I don't trust that you're not gonna turn into something else."

Steve has made half a step when his eyes widen.

"You figured it out?"

Eddie raises his eyebrows, pan twisting in his grip half-threateningly. 

"So you are a mimic?"

"I don't know what a mimic is!" Steve groans, frustrated. "I just turn into a dog."

At first Eddie's ready to scoff, maybe throw the pan at him, but as he studies Steve's expression, he frowns. Slowly, he connects the dots in his brain.

"You've been the dog all this time?"

Steve nods.

"That's why I never saw you? Because you were right there, turned into a fucking dog?" he asks incredulously.

"Yeah," Steve admits, folding in on himself like he wanted to disappear.

Eddie puts the pan aside and starts pulling his rings off, one by one. Steve eyes him warily, and it takes him a moment to speak up.

"Uh, what are you doing?"

Eddie looks him calmly in the eye.

"I'm going to punch you now, and I don't want to cut you up."

Tags: @noodle-shenaniganery @jaytriesstrangerthings @imaginary-maggie-waggie @samsoble

[starrynights-sunnyskies]

as the flowers bloom, my heart does too ⋆*·ﾟmisa x putellas!femreader, social media au, (7/-)

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when your relationship ends and all you want to do is hide and cry, flowers suddenly start to appear on your doorstep.

or; misa hating to see a pretty girl cry and suffer and going out of her way to cheer her up while staying anonymous

fic: see my masterlist 🤍

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yourusername: hello madrid 🌼 Liked by sofie.svava, frejaolofssonn, ona.battle and 1,289 others

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ingridengen Sweetest girl!!

username1 😮

marialeonn16 Floraaaa mi favoritaaa 😎

sofie.svava Yay, the princess has arrived! 👼🎀

albaps9 oh dear is the car still ok ↳ yourusername i'm a better driver than you ↳ albaps9 iM a bETtER dRiVeR THAn yOu ↳ yourusername you can't even drive manual 😙

janafernandez3 Aw, what beautiful flowers!! 😍 ↳ claudiaapina from her 'secret' admirer, I bet! ↳ jennihermoso Cough, secret admirer turned girlfriend, cough! ↳ ona.battle They're so goals together 😭 ↳ patri8guijarro Uhhh, you know who SHE is?!!! ↳ ona.battle 🤷‍♀️ ↳ __cata13 HOW ↳ janafernandez3 Just a little common sense, girls 😅 ↳ keirawalsh hasn't it been obvious right from the start or do i just spend too much time on social media to have seen it all happen? 😳 ↳ aitanabonmati The last one, you clown 😁

marisabel_rguez Have fun in Madrid, YN! Hope you have a good time 😎 ↳ yourusername ass 🤣

username2 hello, more MisaxYn content? 🤞

username3 Driving six hours to Madrid for funsies?.... hmmm I wonder why 😳 ↳ username4 she could've just taken the train but ok ↳ username5 Maybe the u-haul was already filled to the brim so she decided to bring the rest herself 🤭 ↳ username6 👀 ↳ username7 uhhh they wouldn't, would they? ↳ username5 Oh, but they might! 😌 ↳ username7 🕵️‍♀️🧐

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Text Messages

ale 🐻 You post a picture before telling me you've arrived? I love you pero can you please stop worrying me like that. I called you like so many times. ale 🐻 I just had the most nerve wracking seven hours of my life, you know?? you ○○○ you ALE you im okay im okay! you fuck i'm so sorry, my phone died and then i arrived and misa and sofie took me in and they immediately took me out to eat and i just kind of forgot im so so so so so so so sorry and i love you the most in the whole entire world. you're the best sister ever and i'm the luckiest shithead there is. t'estimo, t'estimo, t'estimo!!!! ale 🐻 Bé, I was just really worried about you, I didn't like not hearing anything from you. You're my whole world, too. Next time make sure it's fully charged when you know you'll go out for a long time. What would you have done if you had needed help? Not saying this to scare you, but you know that. So, how was the drive? Did you at least take a few breaks? you boring, lots of rain and traffic. aaaand no breaksies because i didn't want to arrive in the middle of the night bc the traffic had set me back some hours. misa has a game tomorrow and i didn't want her to lose any sleep 😅 ale 🐻Next time you take regular breaks, yes? I'm sure Misa would understand and want the same. Can you please Facetime mami? you i will. petons to you all and olga 😘 you and nala! Delivered

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↳ 6h ago: marisabel_rguez added to their story

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Direct Messages albaps9 corrupting the missus to support real madrid, i see? misa, are you even trying to get along with alexia? 😂 marisabel_rguez Jeje 😆 Had to show her a little bit of our Madrid culture, of course! It's tradition to attend a game! albaps9 in the putellas household, it's also tradition to support barca, so have fun holding onto your head! albaps9 no, but all jokes aside. i might not have said this to you in person yet, but i want you to know how happy i am that you're with my sister. i don't think anyone else could've pulled her out of the deep end and love and treat her the way she deserves. you made her see her own worth again, believe that she was deserving of all the good things, and gave us our girl back. i'll never be able to properly thank you, but i want you to know how grateful we all are nonetheless. marisabel_rguez Thank you for telling me. But you don't need to thank me for doing all that. I love her, it's only normal that I treat her accordingly. She's my entire world, Alba. albaps9 i still don't think you realise how much your love and care for her means to her and the rest of us, and how it has impacted us as a family. but remember that we're proud to call you family too. okay? albaps9 unless you hurt her and end up destroying all the progress she's made, maria isabel. then i'll fucking come for you and alexia won't be your only problem. marisabel_rguez I would expect you to do so then! She's really lucky with you two. She loves you very much, so I'm also happy to be part of your circle. albaps9 🥹🥹 okay but you don't even seem the slightest bit intimidated? 🤣 marisabel_rguez Oh no, I know you're bark and bite! I just know I don't have to be afraid because that worst case scenario will never happen! albaps9 thank you misa ❤️

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tagged: marisabel_rguez, frejaolofssonn, carolinemoller_, haleyraso, yourusername sofie.svava: Supporting the boys with my favourite madridistas Liked by claudia.zornoza, carolineweir95, haleyraso and 12,493 others

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frejaolofssonn Gooooooaaaaal golgolgolgolgol 🤩

carolineweir95 Supporting the men but wearing Misa jerseys, I'm so here for it haha ↳ sofie.svava Someone insisted 🙊 liked by marisabel_rguez ↳ marisabel_rguez And we couldn't resist her! liked by yourusername

username1 Did sofie just... ↳ username2 Yes 😭😬😬😬 ↳ username3 she's removed yn from the tags now 🤭 ↳ username1 Too late man lmao

claudia.zornoza Vamos 💪🏼

haleyraso 💅🏽

username4 it sure is real love if someone raised on barca sets even one foot inside santiago bernabeu and it's not in the away-section liked by 12 others

username5 The Misa appreciation is spreading 😛 ↳ username6 and rightly so!! ↳ username7 I wonder who's behind that 🧐👀

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marisabel_rguez: Happy life. Liked by albaps9, bff2, jennihermoso and 18,329 others

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username1 we know who this is why dont u just tag her lmao srsly ↳ username2 Honestly, do they truly still think they're being slick 🤦‍♀️ ↳ username3 I don't even get the point in keeping it private, like what's the big deal? ↳ username4 maybe they just don't care but don't want to indulge people like you all

marialeonn16 😊

albaps9 ❤️ ↳ albaps9 but that tush will always be mine 😭

sofie.svava 💖

haleyraso Awww

username7 I love how they're slowly growing more comfortable letting the world in ):

sofiajakobsson 😘

bff1 ummm hey? hands to yourself. she's still my snookums until she officially has your last name 🤣 liked by alexiaputellas ↳ yourusername omg stop embarrassing me ↳ marisabel_rguez ✋🏽😳🤚🏽

ingridengen The sweetest together!

salmaparalluelo 😍

jennihermoso 👀

username4 You forgot the other half of the caption ↳ username5 Happy wife, happy life? ↳ username4 Ding-ding-ding! ↳ username6 don't think they'll get married so long as alexia is still lurking in the background 🤣

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yourusername: madrid, you were good to me!! (plus a little surprise i discovered at the petrol station on my way home. te amo mas que a la vida en sa) Liked by bff3, fridolinarolfo, haleyraso and 2,499 others

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albaps9 hmmm i wonder whyyyy liked by yourusername

salmaparalluelo Pls yn confirm that you-know-who and the anonymous admirer are the same person!! ↳ jennihermoso 👀 ↳ yourusername hehe ↳ janafernandez3 !!!!!!!!!!!!! ↳ ona.battle We want to know 😱 ↳ marialeonn16 Oh, but we know 😌 ↳ ingridengen yup!! ☺️ ↳ jennihermoso 👀 ↳ ona.battle ???

username1 the note in the car is the cutest 😔

username2 I want a Misa too, care to loan her out?

alexiaputellas Proud of you and how strong you are. You kept fighting and look at you now. You deserve all this happiness, ma germana petita. T'adoro. ↳ yourusername t'estimo tant tant tant

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yourusername: feliç diada de sant jordi, la meva gent🌹 Liked by ingridengen, alexiaputellas, albaps9 and 940 others

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marisabel_rguez Horrible choice of clothing, I should give you some of my shirts to wear ↳ yourusername you're acting as if half of them aren't already at my place ↳ marisabel_rguez Right where they should be 😉

bff1 feliç sant jordiiii

begovargas 🌹

alexiaputellas 🌹📖🐉🌹

marisabel_rguez And I love when you speak Catalan!!!! liked by yourusername

janafernandez3 feliç sant jordi, el meu amic 🌹

aitanabonmati Feliç Sant Jordi, YN!

claudiaapina feliç sant jordi! 😊

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↳ 5h ago: marisabel_rguez added to their story ↳ 4h ago: marisabel_rguez added to their story ↳ 1h ago: marisabel_rguez added to their story

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marisabel_rguez: este camiseta 💪🏼 Liked by yourusername, sofie.svava, realmadridfem and 14,398 others

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alexiaputellas Visca Barca!!!!! ↳ yourusername be nice... 🤨

yourusername oh wow black is your colour too 🤭 ↳ yourusername (keeping the rest of my thoughts to myself bc alexia's lurking here) ↳ alexiaputellas Yes, behave... 🤨

sofie.svava looking gewd amiga!!! 😇

realmadridfem Nuestro orgullo 💪🏼🤩

haleyraso ✨👏

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username1: o-oka…okay.. ma’am 😳 Liked by username2, yourusername, username3 and 548 others

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username2 lucky person who gets to keep her ↳ username3 @/yourusername 👋 ↳ username12 how shallow of you ↳ username2 she's gorgeous??? and look at that smile 😪 ↳ username4 don't act like you didn't see the other two pics 🤥

username3 LOL HI YN

username4 yn we see you liking 🤣 ↳ username3 I can just imagine her kicking her feet and giggling

username1 okay i understand yn now ↳ username2 And you didn't before?!!?!? liked by 25 others ↳ username3 SHAME

yourusername 🤩🥹😳 liked by 120 others ↳ username5 and i oop- ↳ username10 🤣😭 ↳ username11 pls fangirl again it gave us life last time ↳ username6 girl don't hold back, we know what you're thinking ↳ username2 Alexia isn't here now, come on, let it go 🤭

username6 Misaaa

username7 😣

username8 🤯

username9 Hahaha Misa in that suit summoned yn again ↳ username10 can you blame her? 😱 ↳ username11 everything about that picture is making me swoon!

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yourusername: girl's trip to celebrate one of my besties getting married!!!! Liked by albaps9, bff2, bff3 and 5,439 others

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bff1 what happens in croatia stays in croatia

bff2 💃👩‍👩‍👧‍👧

username1 😍

judebellingham 😁😎 liked by 230 others

alexiaputellas Sunscreen! 😅 ↳ bff3 Don't worry, I'm on it! 😊 ↳ alexiaputellas 😊

username1 i want a friend group like that </3 ↳ username2 fr

albaps9 jealous!!

marisabel_rguez 😣

bff3 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

jennihermoso Guapa!

begovargas Sunflower in human form! 🌻

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Text Messages

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17:48 m 💌 I hope you're having a great time together. Don't forget to drink enough if you're out in the sun a lot! (And I don't mean alcohol, jajaja) ✓ m 💌 Ah, no... pls don't tell me you fell asleep in the sun again ☹️ m 💌 I have to go now so I'll call you later tonight. Te amo mas que nadie and take care!! ✓ 22:36 m 💌 Just saw your post. Are you trying to make me miss you even more? I miss seeing your gorgeous face, it always makes me so happy seeing you. m 💌 You know it’s been torture not having you around, right? m 💌 I miss you so much, YN ✓✓ you i miss you too, my love. the most. i'll be back before you know it! more rested than ever 😚💅🏽 and don't worry, i didn't fall asleep. we were on a boat! i'll tell you more in a bit on the phone. you soon we’ll see each other again, vale? we can go on a trip of our own. for now, just try not to miss me too much 😘 you sent you a photo ▼

m 💌 ○○○ m 💌 Oh, you fucking did not! you oh but i fucking did tho 🥺🥺🥺🙃 m 💌 YN. you si, chula? you ○○○ you misa? you i'm sorry you ☹️ Delivered

Incoming call m 💌

accept

"Are you alone right now?"

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a/n: wishing you the sweetest start of your week! i hope someone does something nice for you and if not, then here's a flower from me to you already 🌻

[forcemeanakin]

𝗙𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱 ('𝘀 𝗱𝗮𝗱) - 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟯

•WARNINGS: SMUT. Age gap !!! Infidelity kink !!! (you’ve been warned, so if you do not agree pls leave because I’ll delete any hateful comments about this) Actual cheating. Dirty talk, teasing and sex in a public space, voyeurism, praising kink, bit of degrading, handjob (m and f receiving), oral sex (f receiving). Mentions of an unhappy relationship/divorce/troubled marriage.

Pairing: dilf!Anakin Skywalker x female!reader.

Series Summary: Luke takes you home for Life’s Day. On the edge of giving up on you two, Skywalker manages to light up a fire inside of you again. Problem is… wrong Skywalker.

Part One - Part Two

Part Three Summary: How could Mr. Skywalker resist such a pretty little thing like yourself when you come into his workshop with dessert?

Word count: 4.1 K.

A/N: NOT PROOFREAD, english is my second language, so please be gentle. If there are any mistakes, pls let me know in private so I can correct them, thanks :) Also I have a serious issue between differentiating “in” and “on” situations, so bare with me lmao. 

Thank you so much for the comments in my last post! Your excitement makes me want to write even more :) seriously thank you! And I'm sorry if I forgot to tag someone, pls let me know if I missed you!

“You missed dessert.”

It took Anakin a second to realize that he wasn’t delusional, that your voice wasn’t a product of his imagination.

You were here, in his workshop. 

With actual pie.

“Shouldn't you be upstairs, Y/n? It 's pretty late.” Anakin spoke without disconnecting his attention from the welding happening in his project.

You delayed your response, walking towards him and placing the plate on the counter, sliding it to him. Elbows on the surface, you supported your head on your knuckles, widening your eyes in innocence in case he indulged in looking up. 

“I could ask that as well.” You got closer, taking a spot at his left side to admire the precision in which he was attaching cables. “Life Day's morning is tomorrow, we should be up pretty early. We’re also going skating.”

Anakin scrunched his face like he had forgotten about it and he was not eagerly expecting the trip.

“You can’t not go, it’s our last day here.” You murmured with a velvety voice, sending goosebumps through his spine. 

“I’ve seen that fucking lake enough for a lifetime. I’m sure I won’t miss much.” He stuck his tongue out, inching his head forward to appreciate his manual work better.

“You’ll miss me.”

Anakin, having everything on the line, was too careful not to slip and fall. Because of that, your grand gestures and obvious advances were deflected by him every single time. Except that one time he did indulge. That one time where you weren’t even trying and he, by his own doing, fell into temptation. Only when commands a situation, or when he thinks he is, he lets himself free fall into his instincts.

“I’ll miss you.” You added, playing with the little metal panel that seemed the right size to fit the droid part he was fixing. 

“I don’t think you miss me when you have Luke’s tongue down your throat.”

He bit the words, gripping the tool with more force in between his fingers, clearly upset. You hid a playful smirk.

“That’s when I miss you the most.” You whispered, grazing his ear shell with your lips, caressing the pull-up sleeve from his shirt.

He tensed at the ministration, blinking fast to return to his previous state of concentration, “To all of this, where’s your boyfriend? Doesn’t he have a promise to fulfill?”

Honestly, it was your fault for trusting Luke’s empty words. Again. But you were enjoying Anakin’s visible jealousy.

“Luke wanted to go straight to sleep… said he was stuffed from dinner. Not a lot of energy to do anything.” You briefly whined with a voice so low, Anakin could barely hear you with the noise of the machine.

So he stopped, pushing himself back onto his chair so he could look up to you without obstacles. His chair was set just a few inches lower to work better. Anakin’s eyes followed your figure from head to toe, casually lingering on the bit of skin that showed from the slit of your attire. Just like at the dinner table, he was struggling and was unsure that he would be able to escape harmlessly this time.

“I’m kind of jealous to be honest.” You mumbled, staring at the mess of parts, walking until you were in between him and the counter. Trapped in between his spreading legs, your chest was right on his eye line and you hadn’t changed your dress. “I wish I was stuffed as well.”

Gulping harshly, Anakin built up the strength to stare at your intense gaze, basically condemning himself. Because the minute he saw the hungry spark shining from them, he knew there wasn’t a single bone in him that would deny you if you asked for him again. 

His strong, yet shy hand, climbed up your leg like a moth to a flame until he was able to grasp the fat of your thigh. Feeling your softness against his palm had him on the edge of staining his pants. With a little pull from his part, it took you mere seconds to obey his silent command and sit on his lap. Anakin’s curious hand continued to brush your bare leg, rejoicing in the way your breath would accelerate when his hand went up and how you bit your lip whenever it came down. 

It also didn’t help that his other arm was wrapped around your waist, thumb miming the motion of his hand, but on your hip, trapping you in his embrace. Expectant of what would be his next move, you shyly waited for whenever he would peel his eyes from your slit and reciprocate the attention, this time on your face. 

On your lips. 

Like he was reading your mind, Anakin’s eyes slowly moved up your curves until he met your needy orbs, noses softly grazing each other at the proximity. Breath getting out of control at the shift of energy, warmth expanding all over your skin and clit throbbing in anticipation. You deviated your eyes momentarily to sneak a peek of the deliciously rich piece of pie laying on the table and he benefited from the newly acquired angle to caress your throat with his lips.

“Just a taste?” You murmured, looking at him through your eyelashes, intentionally inching closer to brush his lips with yours.

Was he going to do it? Take the next step?

Would he dare?

Would you dare?

Surpringsily, Anakin nodded swiftly, leaning into the intoxicating pull of your mouth. “Just a taste.”

Anakin’s lips tasted so much better the second time around, it tasted like victory. And you made it a personal goal of yours to show him how grateful you were that he finally caved in. Wasting no time, in case he changed his mind, your hands found their home in Anakin’s curls, the silky feeling of them a new aphrodisiac to you and apparently to him, by the way he was growling at your clasp.

His sneaky tongue barely asked for permission when it was already intruding into your mouth, licking everything on its way. Giving up on trying to take the lead, you surrendered to his rough pace and enjoyed the delicious sensation of his warm, wet tongue against your lips. Anakin would take advantage of your dumb state and hanging mouth to suck however he pleased, smirking because the only thing your mind could process was imitate his dirty moves. Until he bit your bottom lip, making sure your brain wasn’t already melted before he could even start ruining you.  

When you pulled his hair, only because he had taken the party downstairs and was violently grabbing your ass, it was like you had awakened a beast. Out of nowhere, Anakin stood up, holding you by your thighs and placing you on the surface of his tool table. His shirt’s buttons were discarded early in the makeout session, granting you the space necessary to roam your palms all over his strong pecs and firm shoulder blades. And when you tried to wrap your legs around his waist, hinting right where you wanted him, he clasped his fists around your ankles, spreading you open without breaking the liplock. He was even more aggressive with the leverage his height gave him.

“Just a taste…” He grunted again, lifting up the skirt of your dress until it was tangled enough to give him a good view of your thong. He clicked his tongue at the sight of your spicy choice of underwear. “Almost like you had planned it all along.”

Shamelessly, so outrageously shameless, you drifted your legs further apart, making him snicker. 

“Well, did you?” He wandered, sliding your damped panties down your legs.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since yesterday.” You breathed out, shivering at the breeze fanning your burning core. “I’ve never wanted something so bad.” Urged eyes glued directly to Anakin’s groin. 

Anakin grinned a triumphant smile. That could’ve easily been a lie, but he doubted it. He recognized a brat when he saw one. Holding your foot like it was a delicate piece of glass, Anakin set the nibbling starting point right on your ankle and followed a beeline straight to your weeping cunt. His hot breath made you shiver in anticipation, whimpering to show off your desperation in case this would reach his sensible side.

“When was the last time you had an orgasm before me, baby? Without doing it yourself?” He breathed, roaming his hands up your legs, the contact so rough and intimate  at the same time.

You hated that question, it embarrassed you. 

“Mmm… Uhh-” You thought out loud, mind going blank as Anakin’s smooches went higher up. “F-four months?” You hissed.

“You’ve been dating Luke for three.” He did the math in his head. 

Oh.

Your face turning in shame had his eyes widening.

It would be a lie if Anakin said that he wasn’t mad at his son for dragging the Skywalker name in the mud. For keeping such a needy thing like yourself restricted from gratification. With how sexual you were, four months were an eternity. Nonetheless, Anakin was a fixer and you were his next project.

“Desperate little thing, aren’t you? This slutty pussy can’t wait to have something inside of it. Anything.” Anakin mocked you, testing your sanity as he delayed contact with your core by redirecting his foreplay into the inner side of your thighs.

“That’s not true.” You fought with a trembling voice, observing how Anakin got closer and closer to delivering exactly what you wanted. “I only want you, d-”

The forbidden word. You almost spilled it.

“-sir.” You corrected in time, catching Anakin’s mocking glint. “Only you, please.”

Anakin’s face twisted in pleasure when his finger dived inside you, giving him a warm welcome, impossibly slick. You hugged his pumping digit tightly, getting even wetter at this fascinated expression. Anakin hadn’t felt such a lubricated canal in so long, his head almost exploded at the million possibilities with such an easy pussy: His cock would slide right in, be suffocated by your clenching walls just like his finger was... 

That had him dropping on his knees, starting to eat you out like he was starved. Just like you predicted. Nose deep, no hesitation to blow your slobbering cunt with abandon, moaning right on your core when he had the very first taste of your flavor. So sweet. Just like he predicted.

“Oh- oh!” You whimpered at the first clean lick he gave you, quivering like a virgin because it had been too long since someone showed you love there. 

Anakin’s tongue had the knowledge and patience none of the guys your age had. Every motion was so passionately delivered, so intentional. No rush, no fast lapping to get you off quickly. Anakin knew exactly what would have you shaking with pleasure and wasn’t scared to spend his time getting to know every hidden, sticky spot. In fact, it seemed like he enjoyed taking his sweet time with his face buried in your exposed core. 

It was the hottest shit you’d ever seen.

You were riled up by the precise technique with which he knew exactly how to pleasure your opening, sucking on your lips like they were the meal and not a measly pit stop. But what had you speechless, just at a loss of words, was the way he didn’t hesitate to dip his face into your heat with fervor. As he planted open mouth kisses to your slit, face fully covered by your juices, he only pulled back to spit on top of your clit and play with the liquid slob on top of your bundle of nerves. 

No grimaces, no disgust faces, just utter fascination by your reactions and your pussy.

“Such a sweet thing.” Anakin whispered, flattening his tongue and lapping over your mound. “Careful, I might not let you leave.”

Please don’t. You replied inside your head.

Anakin’s sounds of approval and delight made this whole experience even more sinful. Something about the idea of him enjoying cheating on his wife touched a nerve inside of you, something so wild and dangerous: You had another woman’s man in between your legs and he was enjoying being of service to you. You arched your back at the naughty thought, something Anakin didn’t appreciate because it moved you from the angle he had specifically situated you on; he had already discovered the spot that had your toes curling.

The power rush combined with Anakin's attention to your clit had a knot forming on your abdomen. Supporting yourself on your elbows, you looked down at Anakin’s work, not wanting to miss the scenario in front of you, in case you climaxed earlier than anticipated. But what you saw only pushed you closer to said ending. Anakin was playing with your clit like a cat with a toy, giving rapid licks that had your head spinning, while staggering eager sucks onto your nub. Anakin’s lips enveloped your clit with such care, only to roughly slurped on it, only backing down until he heard you whining. Or moaning his name. Whichever came first. 

“Anakin-” You bravely attempted to cry his name, unsure of his reaction. 

Anakin took the opportunity to analyze your flustered image, his gaze inevitably drawn to your falling cleavage, given that he was pulling down on the fabric by shouldering your legs. He could see the top of your boobs spilling from your undergarments and he dreamed of the looks of them. How perky they would be, how firm and squeezable they must be. Fantasizing about your young tits had him rolling his hips against the wooden leg of the table.

If Anakin locking your legs around his shoulders to dig deeper into your cunt wasn’t enough to have you convulsing, his tongue breaching into you and maneuvering it like it was actually fucking you, did.

“Anakin, I’m close- Oh,” You could barely hold yourself, deciding to lean limp against the hard surface, waiting for Anakin to sweep you off your feet with an outstanding orgasm. 

“That’s right, you’re gonna come on my tongue. How does that feel?” Anakin pushed, squeezing your ass and bringing your core over to him to devour. Like the certified slut you were, you rocked your hips against his face, relishing on the massage his nose inflicted on your most sensitive part. “Fucking your boyfriend’s dad face. This has to be a world record.”

Anakin stared at you over your mound, drinking the heavenly sight of your face contorting in ecstasy by his doing. Such a pretty, young thing, so slick and wet… coming undone by his tongue. And his tongue only. 

“Such a slut… my slut.” He degraded you with darkened eyes, amazed at how those words only had you trembling harder. “Only wanting to come on my tongue, by my cock. Isn’t that right?”

You nodded, taking the little spaces he gave you in between words to fight off the pending peak; you didn’t want this to be over. You needed more from him, you needed everything. 

“Y-yes!” You closed your eyes, preparing yourself for the familiar wave of satisfaction. 

“Yes, what?” Anakin teased.

Would you dare?

“Yes, daddy!” You screamed when your climax toppled you over. 

Anakin had the minimal kindness of not rubbing your choice of words on your face as you came over his fingers, dripping not only on his hand, but his table. This climax in particular had you weak; the aftershocks prolonged for more than you were used to and legs trembled as if you had just worked out. It could have been because you hadn’t had one in so long, or maybe because of his skillful tongue. Probably a combination of both. But truth be told, it was the best orgasm of your life. 

Even with dizzy eyes you could spot the bulge twitching inside his fitted pants. He had promised you just a little taste, but it was so unfair to leave him like that. Right?

Right?

Boosting yourself up, you directed your hand straight to his waistband, actively searching to fish his cock. 

“What are you doing?” Anakin questioned but did little to no effort to stop your wandering touch. 

You didn’t give an answer, instead lips pouted with a fixed stare, you let your actions speak for you. After unbuckling his belt, you loosened his pants, being faced with the opportunity of a lifetime. Anakin sucked his breath in when he saw your nails dipping under the elastic of his underwear, shaky exhales at the expectation of contact. You were unaware of it, you wouldn’t even believe it, but it had been a while for him too. Besides his own hand, he hadn’t known the touch of someone else in so long and Padmé didn’t even do the trick by now. 

So when Anakin saw your widened eyes as you scope up his erection from its confinements, he felt the same rush he used to savor with other conquests whenever Padmé and he were on a on-and-off break. But this was better, so much more electric. Your surprised gasp at his big cock elevated his ego to new highs. It just confirmed what he already knew: that you’ve dealing with stupid boys, when you deserved a real man. 

And Anakin was exactly that. 

His eagerness pushed you to envelope your hand around his shaft with more confidence, your fingers struggling to meet around it because of the delicious girth. Anakin let go as soon as he felt you tugging his length, crumbling on your shoulder, barely supporting himself on the edge of the table at each side of your hips. Being the big man he was, you didn’t expect Anakin to be so vocal during sex, but fuck were you wrong. Whimpers started to spill from his lips, landing right on your ear. It was the most exquisite sound you’ve heard. 

It was just so hot to have him completely surrender to you, to the will of your hand. Gladly, you pumped harder and faster, expecting to hear more of his inviting sounds. Having the upper hand encouraged you to try and lead the situation, turning his head by his chin with two fingers, sucking in his bottom lip as a first move before properly kissing him. Jacking him off while he still had his pants on, had you squeezing your thighs, the sight turning on a switch for you.

He followed your initiative and dipped his very own fingers to take care of you again. He would do it as many times as you needed, just for his own amusement. Closing his eyes, he sighed in content when his digits were fully installed inside of your warm walls. 

“That’s it, that’s the stuff.” He smiled into the words, making you cry even louder at the intrusion. He couldn’t stop praising you, he was too fascinated by you. “Always so wet for me. Fuck, yes. So wet and slick, ready to let me in. I adore this young pussy.”

You sobbed at the last words he pronounced, Anakin cracking a wicked grin. He was mesmerized by how unfiltered and vulgar your dark side turned out to be. Finally a worthy opponent.

Anakin and you worked on each other until you were both grazing the edge: sloppily kissing, moaning on each other's mouths and exchanging the same air by just how close you were. The scene replicated the rush and eagerness of a young couple who couldn’t keep their hands off each other’s pants. It was so intimate, yet distant at the same time.

Because he wasn’t technically fucking you his conscience weighted a bit less. Using that logic, Anakin found comfort that, as long as you two kept your shenanigans at hand stuff, there was no reason why he should be called a cheater. It was two people exchanging favors.

It was him shaking you off his system.

“A-Anakin, you make me feel so good. Please.” You squealed when he circled around your clit with his thumb as his thick fingers worked in and out of you. 

“Next time you touch yourself, you’ll think of these fingers, you’ll think of me.” Anakin grunted, flicking your nub without care. He relished on the little scream you let out.

Anakin felt the exciting clench when he inserted his third finger in, your contorted face tattling you anyway. That was good news, because he was close too. It was hard for him not to when you were looking like sin itself with your dress discarded at waist level, cheeks flushed and mouth hung open, begging to be fucked by his tongue. 

Anakin wanted to grip you, rip you apart, crush you under the weight of his desire. He needed to have all of you in order to move on, so the next half of his life was spent dreaming about the feeling of you, as an alternative of a lifetime simply wandering. And as much as he wanted to extend this moment forever, your constant spasms were threat enough to let him know release was right around the corner.

Gushing on him again, you felt your body going limp. Smiling to the ceiling, you thought about how Anakin had ended your miserable drought with two winning orgasms. It was so intense, you were actually ashamed of how many unholy sounds you squealed but it didn’t make sense why a simple hand job would feel so good.

Flipping onto your stomach at the speed light, Anakin needily pulled up the bottom of the dress until your ass was bare and exposed for him to fondle as he pleased, panting frantically. You didn’t even felt ashamed when he split you open; you offered yourself to him even more and he fucking loved it.

He fucking loved how shameless you were, how excited for his attention you got. A breath of fresh air, that was you. 

But right when Anakin was about to give into his darkest desires, right about to cross the line between wrong and utterly wrong, gripping the edges of the table while trembling as his cock sat an inch away from your entrance…

Just one little push and he would taste heaven.

Just one little thrust and he would know glory in the purest form. 

The debate raged inside of him, a bead of sweat falling from his temple. He was only torn away from his mental debate when your impatient orbs peep from over your shoulder. 

“Please.” You whined, shaking your ass to entice him. “P-please do it, daddy. I’m begging, I really am.” 

Knees weak, Anakin was about to cave.

Just one swing of his hips. Just one tiny buck-

Another whine came out of you, but a disappointing one, this time provoked by Anakin jacking himself off until he was covering your heart-shaped cheeks with the viscous liquid you desperately wanted to swallow. Holding your jaw so you would make eye contact with him, Anakin put two cum-covered fingers in front of you, almost spurting a second time when your eyes rolled at the back of your head at the taste. His jizz was as good as dessert, for fuck’s sake.

But things come to an end.

“This can’t ever be known.” Anakin finally picked himself up from behind you, buttoning his pants as he shook his head, clearing his throat. It felt like he was talking to himself,  “This- uhm, this never happened. Never happened...”

“But it did. And I liked it.” Not fixing your dress so he would be greeted by your perky nipples, you turned to face him. “In fact, I loved it. I kinda want more.” You tilted your head, eyeing his groin without a filter. “Don’t you want more, daddy?” You had found a weak link and Anakin was making absolutely no effort to hide the effects of the word on him. 

Of course he wanted more. He wanted everything. Especially when you were staring at him with those eyes, and that hair, and those tits- God, those firm, perky tits were getting to him.

The phone he had installed for inner communication inside the house rang. It was Padmé calling him to sleep, the noise from his workshop disturbing her dreams. A nerve-wracking feeling took over you as soon as the phone call ended, you evidently awaiting for his next statement. 

He would either stay or leave. As simply as that. 

In or out?

When Anakin took one bite of the pie as he fixed his eyes on you, you smirked as a mirror of his own smile. 

taglist : @darthgloris @ingrid69ers @shulipp @bookishnights03 @anakinswh0re419 @fuckmyskywalker@dxviiin @bby-imasociopath @adoringanakin @d0llfacehgwts@daddyissuesbabygirl

let me know if you wanna be tagged in the upcoming parts!

[mynameismckenziemae]

In Case You Didn’t Know

Part 5

(previous part here, next part here)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x OFC

Summary: Jake takes you on the date he wishes he would’ve all those years ago.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, oral (m receiving), etc.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

Jake’s phone vibrates on his nightstand as he gets into bed.

🐓: So? Did you talk? Was I right?

Jake: Yeah we talked.

🐓: And?

Jake: …you were right.

🐓: HELL YEAH! I fucking knew it! You could cut the tension between you two with a knife. Did you…you know 😏

Jake: I want to take her out on date first.

🐓: Where are you gonna take her?

Jake: I don’t know, kind of limited with the leg. I just want it to be special.

🐓: Where did you take girls for dates in high school? Do that with her.

Jake: We’d pick up food at the local car hop, park somewhere to eat then fool around in my truck bed.

🐓: Sounds…great?

Jake: 🖕🏻there wasn’t much to do for teenagers around here back then. But honestly, I think Charlie would love it. I’d have to ask my sister for my truck back though. She takes care of it while I’m gone for me.

🐓: Emma? She’s a 10 🥵

Jake: No.

🐓: She single yet?

Jake: She’s not interested.

🐓: So she is single.

Jake: I’m going to bed.

🐓: You realize I’m going to meet her at your wedding, right? You’re just putting off the inevitable.

Jake: Goodnight Bradshaw.

Jake smirks at the thought. Bradshaw probably thinks Jake’s just being a protective older brother but it’s just the opposite. Emma looks like a sweet southern belle but she would eat him alive.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

He hesitates before biting the bullet and texting Emma; he’s always been a little scared of her.

Jake: Hey Emma Lou.

Emma: Hey! When did you make landfall? Everything go okay?

Jake: Almost 2 weeks, and not really. I was hit on the way back to the carrier and had to eject. I broke my leg and got a little beat up on the way down. I left the hospital forgetting Ma and Dad are gone so I’m staying with Charlie. They don’t know yet, please keep it that way. You know how much this trip means to them. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, my head was a little messed up and just didn’t want you to worry or take time off from that new job.

Emma: WTF!?!?? That’s fucking bullshit, Jake. I’m a large animal vet with 2 partners that are happy to cover for me. I wouldn’t have had an issue getting off of work and you know it.

Jake: I do know. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight.

Emma: No shit.

Emma: Are you okay?

Jake: Getting there. Charlie’s been doing my PT, I saw ortho and that’s healing okay. I have a video visit with a therapist tomorrow.

Emma: Therapist?

Jake: Diagnosed me with PTSD after the accident. I’m feeling better already but if I don’t go to therapy they’ll ground me longer.

Emma: The Navy grounding you will be the least of your worries once Mom finds out. I’m not gonna be the one telling her.

Jake: Thanks. I really am sorry. Any chance you’re coming this way in the next few days? I need the truck if you don’t.

Emma: How are you gonna drive it? Not sure how bad you hit your head but you need 2 feet for a manual.

Jake: I’m not, Charlie’s going to.

Emma: Did she get new furniture and not tell me?

Jake: No…it’s a lot to text. I’d rather tell you in person.

Emma: I’ve got a sick heifer to see in the morning but otherwise I’m free. I’ll be there around 11. I think Lee’s got a vet call in the area around 2 so I’ll see if he’ll take me back home so you can keep the truck.

Jake: Sounds good. Love you.

Emma: I’m still mad, but I love you too.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

Jake’s up before you and has a cup of coffee waiting as you stumble into the kitchen with a yawn.

“Don’t make plans tonight. I’ve got something in mind,” he says, leaning on his good leg before pulling you into his chest.

“Mmkay,” you yawn, snuggling into his chest like you’ve always wanted to with his hugs. “Can’t wait.”

“I told Emma last night, she’s going to come over around 11 so we can talk,” Jake cringes.

“Will she be gone by the time I get back?” You joke, all too familiar with her temper.

“Why? You scared?” He teases.

“Yes. I know you are too,” you laugh.

You let him hold you for a few minutes, both enjoying the intimacy.

“I’d ask you to join me in the shower but that’s an accident waiting to happen,” you smile, pulling away from his chest to press a kiss to his lips.

His eyes fall closed at your words. “Soon enough.”

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

Jake stares at your butt in your scrubs from the porch as you walk to your car. You catch him looking as you open the door and quirk a brow at his sheepish grin.

“Can’t figure out if you’re wearing underwear, I didn’t see any panty lines.”

“You don’t get panty lines if you wear a thong,” you wink as you get in, laughing at the way his eyes widen.

You’re normally a no-show underwear kind of girl, but you felt like wearing something sexy today when Jake said he had plans.

You give him a little wave as you head to work.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

Jake had just finished his virtual visit with the therapist when Emma pulls up in his grandpa’s old Chevy that he and his dad fixed up together.

Emma gives him a bone-crushing hug before smacking him upside the head.

“Ow,” Jake grumbles, rubbing the spot she hit him.

“You deserve a lot more than that. You’re lucky you’re injured,” Emma says before bending down to greet Cash.

“So why does Charlie need the truck?” Emma asks, throwing Cash’s ball.

“She doesn’t. I’m taking her out tonight. Well, she’s driving but I’m planning it.”

“Taking her out where? Why do you need the truck for that?”

“Ray’s and then up to Breakneck Hill,” he responds, not looking at her.

“Isn’t that where you used take your dates to park?”

“Yep.”

It takes her a minute to catch on, but she jumps to her feet with a whoop when she does.

“Seriously?!” She laughs, “Man, it’s about fucking time.”

He looks at her puzzledly.

“You’ve been in love with each other for years,” she sighs. “That’s a great idea though. I just washed ‘er so the bed is clean. Want me to throw some blankets back there for you?”

“I didn’t think that far, but yeah, that’s a good idea.”

20 minutes later, Emma’s got the back of the truck filled with blankets and pillows, a perfect place to eat and watch the sunset.

“Perfect! Now you have a place to stretch out and bang. Do you need condoms? Wait no, forget them. I’m ready to be an auntie,” Emma says as she steps back to look.

“Uh, no. We haven’t-I mean, we aren’t-“ Jake stutters, flushing bright red.

“I’m kidding, Jesus. Don’t stroke out on me. Got anything for lunch?” Emma laughs, patting Jake on the shoulder, right where he’s bruised.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

Emma wraps his cast and stays nearby just in case he falls while he showers.

“Lee’s almost here,” Emma says, giving Jake another hug. “Let me know how it goes. And tell Charlie I’m not mad at her, just you.”

Jake rolls his eyes but hugs her back. “Will do. Thanks, Em, love ya.”

“Love you too, don’t forget to forget the condoms!” She replies as she heads out the door.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

You smile when you see Jake’s old truck in the driveway, wondering what he’s up to.

Jake’s asleep on the couch when you get inside, but he wakes up when you close the door.

“Oh hey, sorry I must’ve fallen asleep after Emma left,” he yawns.

“Let me change and I’ll be ready to go,” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek and slipping off your top as you walk down the hall.

Jake sgets down the stairs and hobbles along to the driver's side of the truck, awkwardly opening the door for you.

“You want me to drive? I don’t think I’ve driven it since you got too wasted to drive at Clay Williams's graduation party,” you laugh, climbing up.

“Ugh, I can’t even smell Jäegermeister without gagging,” Jake shivers as he closes the door.

You lean over and open the passenger side, taking the crutches he hands over. He surprises you with how easily manages to get in with one leg.

“Where to?” You ask, pushing in the clutch and starting the truck.

“Ray’s,” he answers with a smile.

“Then to Breakneck to fool around?” You guess, wiggling your brows.

He nods. “Only if you want to, we don’t-“

“I want to. I’ve always wanted to,” you reply, leaving out how jealous you’d get when he’d take girls out there.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

An hour later you’re sharing a chocolate milkshake in the back of the truck. It’s just the two of you in the empty lot.

“I wonder what my mom would think of us being together,” you say as you watch the sunset. The sky is a beautiful canvas of pinks, oranges, and reds.

“I think she’d like it,” he replies.

A flicker of movement catches your eye and you hold your breath when a butterfly lands on the hand that’s holding yours. It rests for just a moment, slowly flapping its orange wings before flying away.

“Me too,” you whisper.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

“So what’s next? We ate our burgers, shared the milkshake, and watched the sunset. Is it a dry handjob while you rub me through my underwear for 10 seconds then ask if I came?”

“How’d you know?” He teases, leaning in for a kiss.

He kisses you slowly and lazily, committing every sigh to memory. As his tongue flicks yours you can’t help but imagine it elsewhere.

You soon grow impatient and find yourself straddling his lap again.

“Jake, touch me. Please?” You pant.

“‘Course sweetheart. Here?” He asks, pulling the top of your sundress down, exposing your braless chest to him. “Damn, Charlie,” he rasps, looking over your breasts hungrily before sucking a hardened bud into his mouth. His fingers come up to pay attention to the neglected side and he alternates; biting, sucking, and pinching you into a frenzy.

You find his free hand and bring it under your dress, running his fingers over the soaked material of your thong. He shudders when he feels the evidence of what he’s doing to you.

Before his fingers even touch you without the barrier of your underwear, you cry out, your fingers in his hair pull; your orgasm taking you both by surprise.

“Did you cum?” He chuckles breathlessly against your chest as you come down.

“I did,” you smirk, trying to catch your breath too as you climb off him, then unbuttoning his jeans. “Your turn, but I want to get my mouth on you.”

Your eyes widen as you pull him out. “Jesus. Not sure if you’ll fit, but I’m gonna try.”

“That’s not…I didn’t know that was an option-oh fuckkkk,” he gasps when you pull his tip into your mouth.

Your eyes drift closed and you moan at the salty taste of his precum. More you think as you swallow and suck more of him into your mouth, using your hands to stroke his base.

He’s making the hottest, most desperate sounds as his chest heaves. It hasn’t even been a minute before he’s warning you. “Char-Charlie, wait sweetheart. I’m gonna cum,” He pants, gently tugging at your hair to pull you off.

But you shake your head and moan; you want to taste it.

“Oh…oh God,” he whimpers as he finishes in your mouth, jolting when he feels you swallow his spend.

You pull up the top of your dress after you release it from your mouth and gently tuck him back into his jeans. He surprises you when he pulls you up for a deep kiss, groaning when he tastes himself on your tongue.

“You’re…that was…holy shit,” Jake chuckles. “So much better than a dry handjob.”

You laugh before pulling him back in for a kiss.

You’re so wrapped up in each other that you don’t notice the squad car pulling into the lot.

The smug voice of the local police officer over the megaphone has you jumping apart.

“Keep it in your pants ‘til you get home, Seresin. Don’t make me call your mama.”

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

A/N: First date ✅

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in comments/reblogs.

Tagging:

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[sehtoast]

At Heart (Ryan Butcher, parentified!OC)

ben being a parent, ryan deserved to be hugged and held for this one, ben will be getting him a new milkshake btw, spidersona oc | Fic Directory

The web-head all but nearly shatters the balcony door rushing inside.

While not particularly cut from the cloth of parenthood, Benjamin has grown to see Ryan as his own more than he ever knew was possible.  So when faced with the sight of him sobbing on the couch, of course he went into overdrive.

“Hey, woah!” Ben rattles as he tears the mask from his head and plops down beside the boy, a hand placed on his shoulder to gently shake him from his woe. “Ryan, hey– what’s– what happened?”

Ben’s answer is the boy throwing himself forward to hug and bury his face in his shoulder, crying as he explains it all.

He killed another person.

That fucking scripted save– Vought’s ridiculous insistence that the boy become their next hero to market to the world.

“K-Koy’s dead because of me! S’my fault again!”

Ben was familiar with Koy.  The stunt director always liked him, always loved when the bug would string a few webs from the ceiling to let him toy with during his own rehearsals.  It’d been so long since he’d seen him; public footage of his saves had been more than enough for Vought to let the bug off the hook.  And now…

“Fuck…”  Ben  sighs.  “Ryan–”

“He brought me a milkshake and took it because I– Dad said– he said I shouldn’t care…”  He hiccups.  “T-That they’re toys for us to b-break. N-now he’s mad at me and–”

Of course he is, Ben thinks to himself as he pets through Ryan’s hair. Because he’s not sure why you’d show empathy to the people who’ve always broken him.  But you don’t know that…

“W-Was my mom just a toy too?”

“No,” Ben shakes his head, sighing dejectedly. “No, your mom wasn’t a toy.  No one is– your dad…”  He swallows thickly.  “He–”

“Hates me–” He chokes through sobs.

“Damnit, Johnny…” Ben mumbles.  He loves that man like nothing else, but sometimes he really had a way of fucking up.  The bug pulls back from Ryan, hands grasping his shoulders to hold the boy steady.  “Your father doesn’t hate you.”

“He doesn’t want me either–”

“Ryan.  Look at me.”  He shakes him softly, brows knit with worry.  Doesn’t want you either?  “He just doesn’t know how to help you.  I’m not saying he’s right for saying what he said, don’t get me wrong, just… he literally doesn’t know what to do.”

“I don’t know what to do!”  Ryan shouts, gripping tight to Ben’s wrists, eyes suddenly going wide when that near silent wince rang through his ears.  He loosens his hold immediately. “I don’t– I can’t–” Heaving breaths through the panic. “I’m sorry–”

“I know…”  The bug murmurs.  “I know.”

Truthfully, what could he possibly say?  That it’d all get better?  He couldn’t guarantee that.  Should he tell the boy not to stress about the damage he’s caused?  Absolutely not.

All he can do is hug him close and let him cry it out, shh-ing him and rocking from side to side.  Benjamin wishes more than anything that he could know what Becca did for the boy when he was so utterly devastated.  Hell, maybe she never even had to do something like this– at least not for this magnitude of agony.

There’s no manual for this.

At least when the sniffling stops, Ben feels like he’s done something right.  Granted it only stopped because the boy cried himself to sleep, but…

It’s something, right?

He carries Ryan to his bedroom, up the stairs and to the left.  It used to just be a storage room before the boy came about, then John had it converted to be everything he’d ever wanted when he himself was a child.  Benjamin tried to explain, but… it just never clicked.

Gently, Benjamin places him onto his bed, snagging the nearest throw blanket to drape over his form.  Even asleep, the kid looks exhausted– and rightfully so.  He doesn’t deserve any of this. The pain, the sorrow, the guilt.  Ryan’s just a boy who’s been through far too much.

Not terribly unlike his father.

The bug sighs dejectedly, knowing there was a conversation to be had with his boyfriend about consoling the kid.  Homelander will get defensive, spiteful, angry– he’ll feel attacked right off the bat.  He’s trying, but he’ll never get it right if he doesn’t realize one terribly tragic thing about his son.

Try as he might to shape Ryan in his image, he will never truly mirror his father.  Homelander will never understand why, but Benjamin?  It’s not at all hard for him to see.  Not in the slightest.  It’s not a bad thing, but it’s certainly not good.  

Tragedy will always hit the boy hardest.  It will devastate him in ways his father can never understand.

Ryan is a human at heart. 

He always will be.  

[nametakensff]

I like you too (S/teddie)

So after fucking forever I have finally finished the ~getting together~ fic of my mutual fetish AU 💕 Anyone who is still interested after like a year of teasing this shit, I hope you enjoy 17.8k of these idiots 🥲❤️

Following his embarrassing allergy attack at S/teve's house the night prior, having figured out S/teve may actually have the same interests, E/ddie starts up on his plan to drive S/teve crazy with his allergies - hopefully to the point of drawing a confession out of him. What could possibly go wrong?

(Carrying on directly from this fic, but you don't need to re-read it!)

~~~~~

Content:

M/M, pre-relationship then getting together, both S/teve and E/ddie have the fetish, E/ddie gets off to his own sneezing, hay fever sneezes, sneezing from manual inducing, sneezing from fragrance, sneezing from direct exposure to flowers, inducing someone else, spray, handkerchiefs, lots of making out lol, masturbation, teasing, exhibitionism/voyeurism, hand jobs, frotting, dirty talk, teasing, sneezing on each other

CW: Internalised homophobia, threats of physical violence, shame towards the fetish, E/ddie really pushes S/teve's boundaries and they get ANGSTY, did I mention angst, miscommunication and jealousy, S/teve is a messy airhead who sneezes all over items in public and does not clean it up, they have a brief bad time before a good one

~~~~~~

NSFW, minors please DNI!

“…-ddie. Hey, Eddie.”

“..mmmn?”

Eddie felt the welcome cocoon of sleep receding at the sensation of a finger jabbing persistently into his ribs. He snorted unhappily, attempting to roll away from the unwelcome prods but merely earning himself an even harder prod between his shoulder blades. Willing himself to pass back out wasn’t working. He grumbled and peered blearily over his shoulder through a mess of curls. Max’s placid face hovered over him. He blinked dumbly up at her, momentarily unaware of what Mayfield was doing in his bedroom. Then he heard a giggle - another girl. His eyes swivelled to El, lingering behind Max, a cheeky grin on her face as she took in the sight of his hazy confusion.

“Wha..?”

“Steve told us to wake you up and ask you what you wanted for breakfast.”

“…Steve?”

And just like that, he remembered everything. Hanging out at Steve’s place. His insane allergic reaction in front of everybody. And Steve…Steve had come to reassure him in the bathroom. And he’d –

“Well, fuck.” Eddie blurted out and snorted a little in amusement, making the two girls jump.

Steve had fucking liked that shit. He was convinced of it. God. He closed his eyes and grinned, a sudden, childish giddiness overwhelming him.

“Um…Okay…?”

Eddie’s eyes snapped open. The girls. Right.

“Shit, yeah – sorry, Red. I’m fine with whatever – cereal, toast, you know – whatever he’s offering.”

He shifted and pulled himself into an upright sitting position, about to swing his legs over the side of – Steve’s? Definitely Steve’s – bed, when he suddenly realised that he was very naked, aside from his boxers. Max took one glance at the bare torso he struggled to shield with two scrambling palms and seemed to pick up on his dilemma – super smart kid – before pulling El by the wrist towards the door.

“Cereal. Toast. Got it.” She droned, not bothering to look back. El pulled the door shut behind them, and Eddie heard the pair of them giggle as they made their way downstairs.

Now that he was alone, he sighed heavily and took the time to glance around. Yep, it was Steve’s room, all right. As neat and empty as his own was chaotic. He remembered that last night he’d taken more allergy meds and all but passed out in the living room while the movie viewing had commenced. It kind of sucked that he’d been unconscious for it, but it beat sneezing his head off uncontrollably for a captive audience any more than he already had. He blushed a little, still embarrassed by the whole thing despite the litany of reassurances and concern everyone had directed his way the second he reemerged from his shameful little sanctuary in the bathroom. He’d made a scene, passed out and – maybe, somehow, woken up long enough to get to Steve’s room and strip down before climbing into his bed? He blinked. Total blackout.

He noticed an inflatable mattress with a discarded blanket sprawled across it lying on the floor next to the bed. Presumably, Steve had slept there. Eddie felt both relieved and disappointed – sharing a bed with Steve was pure fantasy fodder, but to be so drugged up he couldn’t remember it would have been weird and more than a little depressing. Especially now that he knew Steve’s little secret. Their little secret. He smirked, couldn’t help it, almost vibrating with excitement at what he knew he had to do. Operation: tease Steve with his allergies until something fucking gives.

It was a ridiculous and somewhat risky plan – or so he would have thought, if he hadn’t seen in Steve a mirror image of his own fetishistic arousal, clear as day. He felt emboldened, convinced that this was the perfect little way to segue into a relationship of some kind with the former jock. His allergies were as good an ice-breaker as any. Speaking of…

Eddie’s nostrils began to flare, that oh-so familiar buzzing irritation creeping its way through his sinuses. It wasn’t nearly as bad as yesterday when he’d effectively sneezed himself awake, thank god – maybe that double dose of meds he’d taken had a lingering effect? Either way, he was going to have to sneeze, a regular part of his morning routine this time of year. He allowed himself to settle back against the headboard, steeling himself as his breath hitched up and up, eyes scrunching closed as the tingling itch morphed into a sharper, more definitive tickle. It may not have been as demanding as the morning prior, but it was teasing, leaving him trapped in what felt like a never-ending buildup. He found himself waving a hand in front of his face, eyelashes damp with allergic tears. He hoped the desperate gesture would hasten the tickle along – if not, it felt relieving to have something to do whilst otherwise incapacitated.

Finally, after a couple of embarrassingly dramatic false starts that both amused and aroused him as they echoed out in the (thankfully) empty room, the tickle reached its apex. His shoulders shook with three rapid hitches of breath, mouth gaping open and pink tongue cupping itself against his bottom teeth. At last he was curling forward with an intensely relieving fit.

"HehH'ENGxt'TSchieww!! IhH'TSHieww!! ESSHieww! Huh'ISSSHhuu!! Eh'Ngxtt'ieww!!"

He let them out unhindered, not wanting to sneeze directly into the fabric of the bed sheets, but for lack of any means to cover other than his hands, he decided he would rather save himself the mess. He sneezed openly and down towards his lap, sending a delicate aerosol of spray across Steve’s bedding. As he shook with each eruption, his mind couldn’t help but conjure up the image of Steve stood in the doorway of his bedroom, watching him as he lost control, enjoying the way he was utterly helpless to the tickle in his itchy, pink nose.

"Hh-HH-!! Hah'ESHHhieww!! AESH'uuu!! Hh'IGSHH'uu!! ETCHH'iewww!! Hah!! HahH'DZZtt'Shieww!!

He was hard now, fantasies even more potent than usual. This revelation about Steve, that it was something in the realm of reality that he could – no, would – enjoy seeing him like this – it all but destroyed any means of control he had over his wandering thoughts. Through the rest of his fit he pictured the look of hunger he’d seen in Steve’s eyes the night prior – imagined Steve joining him on the bed, whispering blessings and assurances as he sneezed and dripped all over the two of them. He imagined Steve crawling into bed with him, under the sheets he had thoroughly sprayed with the result of his allergies. He even entertained the indulgent thought of Steve experiencing an unexpected (but welcome) allergic reaction of his own, returning the favour as they rutted against each other.

"hh-!! OHh, fuck! HAH!! DZZTTt'shiiewww!! IGSHH'Uuuu!! hHDT’TISShhuuu!! hh-!! HAHGK'TSHHhieww!!"

His hand was on his cock, stroking and massaging in rhythm with each explosion that racked his slender frame. He shouldn’t be doing this, not while there were kids downstairs - jerking off to his own sneezes and thoughts of Steve in Steve’s bed whilst the man in question was busy making breakfast for him. Luckily, his fit was beginning to taper off, giving him enough reprieve to stand on shaky legs and manoeuvre himself over the air mattress and into Steve’s en-suite. He sneezed as he closed the door behind him, sneezed as he pulled his cock through the slit of his boxers, and sneezed as he jerked himself off into the porcelain basin of Steve’s immaculate sink.

~~~~~

Eddie stood in front of the mirror, scrunching his curls in his palms and up towards his scalp, tutting with dissatisfaction at his sub-par reflection. His unruly hair refused to cooperate, flattened in some places from sleeping awkwardly and miserably tangled in others. After he’d cum in several long streaks into the basin of the sink, moaning and steadying himself against the countertop with a shaky grip, his mind had been cleared enough to pull himself together.

Upon re-entering Steve’s room, he noticed his jeans and t-shirt, neatly folded and placed on Steve’s desk chair, as well as a little box of antihistamines and a glass of water on the bedside table. He’d dressed quickly and eagerly gulped down the water and meds, doing as best he could to untangle his mane (to little avail). He’d also taken the opportunity to clear out any residual tickles from his itchy nose into a handful of blissfully soft tissues; he was sensitive enough that just a few swipes of the delicate material against the arches of his nostrils pulled several shuddering sneezes out of him. Blowing his nose into them felt great, too. He picked up the box and turned it round in his hands, the brand name unrecognisable to him. He thought for a moment he should ask Steve where the fuck he was finding tissues like these, because it certainly wasn’t any local store he’d been privy to. It was ridiculous that the thought of doing so, discussing tissues with Steve, threatened to make him hard again. Maybe he needed a cold shower. Or a regular warm one, where he could…work through these thoughts, cock in hand.

The sound of raucous laughter from downstairs – Dustin, and then El – had him shaking his head and laughing in near-disbelief at his own uncontrollably dirty ruminations. Holy fuck, he had to pull himself together. He did just that, making his way downstairs at last, heart beating just a little bit faster at the thought of seeing Steve.

~~~~~

Gingerly walking into the kitchen, Eddie was greeted with several enthusiastic shouts from both Dustin and Robin, the former sitting at the kitchen table with El and Max, whilst Robin sat haphazardly on the kitchen counter next to the stove at which Steve was cooking some (heavenly smelling) eggs. Scrambled, by the looks of it. Eddie felt his stomach give a little growl. He was altogether starving. He brought his gaze up from the pan and locked eyes with Steve; for a split second, it felt to Eddie like they were frozen in time, something palpable and electric in the air. The hair-raising sensation vanished as quickly as it had come on, however, Steve nodding to him with a tender (if slightly nervous looking) smile and turning his attention back to the food. Eddie blinked. A little less…enthusiastic than he had hoped. Deciding not to dwell on the matter, he pulled up a chair next to Dustin, who promptly patted him on the arm.

“You okay, man?” He asked, looking up at Eddie with a look so patronisingly pitying that he barked a laugh back at him almost immediately. Dustin promptly pulled back his hand and stared at Max and El in precocious disbelief, gesturing back towards Eddie.

“Wow, you try to be there for a guy, and he laughs in your face!” the teen started dramatically, throwing his arms up. He’d clearly expected a more clandestine and grateful response from the metalhead. It was cute – he was as an obnoxious, chatty little shit, and Eddie was incredibly fond of him.

“Yeah, Dustin, ‘m’fine. I’m just busting your chops, okay?” He said as he ruffled Dustin’s hair, pulling him into a one armed hug. After a brief scuffle and a relatively painless noogie delivered via Eddie’s (ringless…mostly) right hand, the older man let go and slapped him reassuringly on the back a couple of times.

“Why do boys do – that?” El asked Max, having observed the entire affair in shocked silence.

“What – physically assault each other? It’s just how boys express love. Like men.” Max offered, rolling her eyes in a way that made El giggle in appreciation. They were definitely a cute little pair of trouble-makers, Eddie had to admit. He could take the jab. Boys were pretty dumb – as one (or, he guessed, an ex-boy – he was all man now, baby) he could definitely vouch for that. He just grinned at them as Dustin engaged Max in a squabble. It was endearing enough that he let himself get lost in listening to them bicker; the pair of them could sure go toe to toe with brutal sarcasm. It was so entertaining that he didn’t notice Steve approaching him until he felt a gentle touch on his arm.

“Hey, man.” Steve started once Eddie turned to look up at him. He stood a little awkwardly – tentatively resting his hand on Eddie’s shoulder like the older man was a delicate structure, a house of cards ready to go down with even the slightest disturbance. It irked Eddie. He wanted to cut through all the awkwardness and jump straight to the part where they had each other’s cocks in hand. Or at least each other’s tongues in their mouths.

Remember the children, Munson. It wouldn’t do to try anything quite so forward right now. Robin was watching the placement of Steve’s hand on his shoulder from her perch on the kitchen counter. And Buckley, too. Steve’s…well, definitely not his girlfriend, that much was clear. He didn’t want to overthink whatever the fuck they had going on – it didn’t seem romantic, least of all because they’d emphatically reinforced the fact with the whole ‘platonic with a capital P’ shtick. Either way, it would probably be best to work his way up to things gradually and without company.

“Hey, yourself.” He smiled his most winning smile up at Steve and was delighted to receive a brilliantly open smile in return. Whatever Steve had been worried about, it seemed to dissipate with just that small gesture.

“How are you feeling? Got breakfast for you, if you’re hungry.” Steve gestured to the stove. Robin contributed by throwing jazz hands in the general direction of the food and smiling warmly at him.

“I’m good. I could sure eat.”

Steve nodded, then hesitated for a moment. His eyes darted over Eddie’s face, making eye contact for a moment then drifting away again. Eddie cocked his head to the side a little but didn’t look away. It was clear Steve had something else he wanted to say, but it was like he was having trouble finding the words. He spoke a moment later, and Eddie listened in rapt concentration – the anxious energy emanating from Steve was doing nothing to calm his own overactive nervous system.

“I left some…meds, on the dresser for you. Did you…?”

Steve faltered, the question dying in his throat. If Eddie had previously been 99% sure Steve was an enthusiast of the same sexual persuasion, he was now 99.9%. He had to fight, actually dig his nails into his palm and bite on the inside of his cheek, to stop from grinning what he was sure would be an entirely predatory and immensely unnerving smile of smug satisfaction.

“Yeah, thanks man. Took some not too long ago.” He managed, voice stable and welcoming. He was so giddy he wanted to cackle.

“That’s – that’s good.” Steve managed. Eddie bit down harder. “Didn’t want you to suffer.”

Eddie did smile then. He absolutely wanted me to suffer, even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself. Eddie had to imagine that yes, whilst Steve was a great guy, despite previous assholery, the antihistamines were likely more than a kind gesture. Eddie imagined how he would feel in Steve’s shoes. If Steve was in his trailer, sneezing up a goddamn storm whilst he had company present, the majority of which was comprised of children? Yeah, he’d probably want to put a damper on that too. It was strategic. He could fuck with that.

“Yeah, they’re a real lifesaver. I mean, recently, they hardly make a difference, but still.”

His heart was pounding in his chest. This was a lot harder than he imagined it would be, if only because in trying to provoke a reaction out of Steve, he was turning himself on to no end. But he had to keep pushing. He was a man possessed.

“These days I basically just sneeze myself awake. And I just have to wait it out. Sometimes it takes like, what, fifteen minutes? It’s like my nose saved all my sneezes overnight and the second I’m conscious they just fucking overwhelm me, man.”

Steve was reacting so obviously that Eddie wondered if he wanted to be exposed. Knowing that that wasn’t the case, and that Steve simply couldn’t help practically swooning whilst he discussed his allergic struggles with him was giving him butterflies. He was torturing them both, but it was such sweet torture. Steve’s eyes were darting around, focusing anywhere other than Eddie’s face – the older man waited patiently for his response, but Robin beat him to it.

“God, that sounds like such a drag. I’m so glad I don’t have allergies. God – not to like, brag and rub it in or anything, sorry - !”

Buckley was a sweetheart. As much as Eddie wished she hadn’t interrupted and given Steve an out – said jock was now plating up a mountain of food for him, back turned – he could work with this.

“All good, Birdie. Better me than you. I’ve got fucking years of experience under my belt.”

“Still, that fucking sucks that you, like – sneeze yourself awake? I’ve never sneezed that much in my life. Except for one time Rosie Carver was wearing that insanely strong perfume – I’m talking bonkers amount of artificial lavender – to band practice, and it was awful.”

Eddie hoped he didn’t look as awkward as he felt, having opened the Pandora’s box that was Robin’s unmatched ability to ramble on and on. The upside to this turn of events, however, was that Steve looked almost pained with embarrassment as he placed Eddie’s plate in front of him.

“Thanks, Harrington.” He smiled and winked up at Steve, who flashed him a goofy little smile that looked more like a grimace as he continued to visibly cringe.

Steve pulled up the chair next to him and fidgeted awkwardly with the tablecloth as Eddie started to eat. He only seemed to relax a little when Max and Dustin pulled both him and Robin into their intense debate on what qualified as a man hug vs a hug from a man.

Everyone seemed appropriately distracted enough that Eddie, feeling absolutely giddy about what he was about to do, reached for the pepper shaker and started shaking it over his food as subtly as he could manage. Confident that nobody was watching, he shook a little pile of the tickly black seasoning into his hand and inhaled it quietly, rounding off the motion with a gentle rub to his nostrils that he hoped looked natural.

It burned almost instantly. He fought off a few little coughs and reached across the table for a napkin. Now Steve was watching him in that way that people do when they’re trying really hard to look like they aren’t. Eddie knew the feeling exactly, had been in this position more times than he could count. He would have smiled had the tickle not overwhelmed him in seconds, barely giving him any warning before he was sneezing desperately into the napkin.

"Hht'Tchiew! 'TSshieww!! hH'Ngxtt!! 'NGXT'TSChiew!! Oh my god, bless me.”

He couldn’t believe what he had just done. He’d been an impulsive, thrill-seeking bastard for most of his life, but this? It was insane. It was intoxicating. He blushed behind the covering of the tissue paper, working his snuffling, damp nostrils round in an attempt to assuage the itch, and thankfully it worked. He thanked Robin and the kids as they offered a round of blessings before reengaging with the extremely heated debate that had El giggling beside them. Noticing the absence of a blessing from his left – the only one he’d been seeking - Eddie’s eyes tentatively swivelled in Steve’s direction.

Steve was sat ramrod straight up in his seat, looking for all the world like he’d been stupefied. Eddie supposed he had, and was grateful for the napkin to hide his toothy grin of excitement behind, though he was sure his eyes, scrunched up in amusement, gave him away all the same. He sniffled, a wet, obtrusive sound, and this seemed to be the cue Steve’s brain needed to remind him to act like a human being again. He slumped back down into his seat, blushing fiercely and chewing at the lose skin beside his thumb nail. Eddie had to fight desperately for his own gentle blush to recede as Steve peered up at him from behind long, almost bovine eyelashes and uttered the softest, shyest little “Bless you” he had ever heard.

He lowered the napkin with shaking hands, muttering his own tiny “Thank you” in response and shovelling down the rest of his meal, tasting nothing and miles away in his mind. That had been…god, that had been so intimate. If they’d been alone, he would have kissed Steve immediately – he knew that for a fact. There was no fucking way he was misreading the desire that had saturated that interaction. He felt heavy and drugged whilst simultaneously wired enough to run a marathon. He had to breach this topic, he just didn’t know when, or how. So he would continue to be a tease until either he or Steve exploded out of sheer repressed lustiness.  

What a fucking wonderful mess he’d gotten himself into.

~~~~~

“You sure you’re good to drive?”

“Yeah, man, I’m great.”

Eddie smiled reassuringly at Steve as the younger man lingered in the open doorway. Max was already halfway to Eddie’s van, having said her goodbyes and determined to get back to her room for some peace and quiet. Steve would be delivering the other kids to their respective parents, then he and Robin would do whatever it was they did, joined at the hip as usual. Eddie was only a tiny bit jealous, but he honestly wouldn’t mind some peace and quiet himself - if only so that he could rub his own dick raw thinking about the past 24 hours.

“…Okay.”

Steve sounded entirely unconvinced, and terrible at hiding it.

“I’m not going to crash, Steve.” He smiled wickedly. “I’m an expert at driving whilst sneezing my ever-loving brains out. I could win awards for it.”

Steve shifted his weight from one leg to another, eyes darting to anywhere but Eddie’s face as he offered a stilted little laugh. Eddie hoped he was fidgeting to offset the pressure of his jean’s seams on an inopportune erection. He hoped his words teased just right.

“Sure, man, whatever you say.”

Steve managed to smile at him then. It was Eddie’s cue to leave before he got sucked back into those pretty eyes all over again and lost the ability to form complete sentences.

“Well. See you soon, big boy.”

He turned around, raising a hand in goodbye. He smiled as a chorus of ‘Bye, Eddie!’ rang out from inside the house, shouting back a louder ‘farewell’ in response. Steve watched him from the doorway, and Eddie realised he was planning to wait to go inside until after he’d left. He turned around one last time, halfway into the driver’s seat and yelled:

“If my van ends up wrapped round some tree somewhere, you get my guitar, man!”

“Shut up and go home!” Steve shouted back, looking embarrassed and pleased all at once.

Eddie grinned and stuck out his tongue, ignoring Max’s groan of disgust as he settled into the driver’s seat.

~~~~~

Eddie pulled up to his trailer – or swerved up to it, depending on who you asked. Max was one of the most tolerable passengers he had ever had the pleasure of escorting, saying nothing of his questionable steering. He drove like he did almost everything else – impatiently, erratically and far too fucking fast.

Having known Max a mere matter of months, he’d quickly begun to think of her as a little sister of sorts. She hated the trailer park, and he didn’t much blame her. He felt it was his responsibility to help her out as much as he could - even if that just meant letting her into his trailer when her mom was passed out drunk, sitting next to her on the sofa watching some shitty horror movie and cracking stupid jokes in the face of her silence. She didn’t have to say anything, she just had to know that he was there if she needed him. When she’d asked him a couple of weeks ago if he would teach her some guitar basics, he had jumped at the chance. She didn’t have one of her own yet, so he sat with his acoustic whilst she balanced his flashy Warlock on her lap and awkwardly worked her way through each chord.

The metal they had been blasting came to an abrupt stop when he killed the engine. He jumped out and circled the van to open her door for her, reaching out to take her by the hand.

“Home at last, m’lady.”

She ignored his waiting hand, casting him a trademark withering stare with those huge blue eyes and hopped down from the van. He chuckled and closed the door behind her.

“You’re extra gross today.” She offered, looking at him with what Eddie gathered was a healthy dose of suspicion.

He clasped a hand to his heart, playing up the dramatics and gasping in faux distress.

“You wound me, Mayfield!”

She rolled her eyes at him, unsuccessfully holding back a smile. He laughed gregariously, knowing the raucous nature of it would embarrass her. She shoved him softly in response, then grabbed his arm when he started to genuinely keel over. Which only made him laugh harder.

“You’re insane.”

“But you like me anyway.”

“Whatever.” She turned and started to walk over to her trailer. “Thanks for the ride.”

“You’re welcome.”

He was halfway up the front steps of his trailer when he noticed her lingering.

“You good, Red?”

“Yeah. Just wondering if later you could maybe show me some more chords? I want to practice.”

He beamed at her, twirling his door keys round an extended index finger.

“Sure, I can do that. What time?”

“Depends on you.” She said. “Depends on if you’re going to be on the phone with Steve all night. Again.”

His brief moment of hesitation – and the resultant pause that had his keys spinning to the ground at maximum velocity – made her blue eyes twinkle. Damn smart kid. He scrambled for the keys, bouncing back and hoping she would brush off his temporary malfunction even as he knew without a doubt she had him all figured out. She didn’t look mean, though – she just looked smug.

“I believe,” he started as he turned the keys in the lock, “Harrington is otherwise occupied this fine evening. Unlike me. I’ll see you at 7, maybe?”

“Sure. 7 works.”

And with that, she was turning heel and pacing away. Eddie tried not to have a minor heart attack as he closed the trailer door behind him.

So what if Max had seen right through him, he thought as he dropped his backpack unceremoniously in the living room. She wasn’t going to say anything – she wasn’t a blabbermouth like any of the boys. She might – she might say something to El, though. He cringed at the thought of it. Shit. Maybe he would have to lay low on the overt flirting unless he was completely alone with Steve. He’d really fucking pushed it today, and now Max knew about his stupid, dumb feelings for Steve. Who else knew? Did Steve know? He wanted him to know. But not because the kids or whoever else sniffed it out first.

He collapsed face down on his bed and exhaled into his pillowcase. Whether it was Pavlovian conditioning or otherwise, his erection was back in an instant. He pushed aside the lingering anxiety, the overthinking, and rolled onto his back, shimmying his jeans down his hips.

The first squeeze around his cock felt incredible, and he bucked up into his own teasing grasp. This wouldn’t take long. His entire body felt like a live wire. He lost himself in the hedonistic joy of fucking into his own fist, reaching up with one hand to play with his nipples. He groaned, imagining Steve was right there with him – he was the one touching him with his big, strong hands, he was the one teasing him. His nose tingled, a sure sign that the antihistamines were already starting to wear off. Just that thought, just the thought of sneezing, of Steve watching him, Steve sneezing too –

Eddie bit his lip hard, trying and failing not to whimper as he orgasmed to thoughts of Steve for the second time that morning, knowing he was just getting started.

~~~~~

Max was only half-right about his phone calls to Steve. They were never longer than a few hours – and that had only happened a couple of times. Thirty minutes seemed to be their average. He spent way longer on the phone with Gareth, at any rate, and he wasn’t trying to get into his pants, fuck no. Guy friends could talk on the phone daily without it necessarily meaning anything. The fact that he was irrepressibly attracted to Steve and knew that Steve wanted him back – at least, as far as his allergies were concerned – was neither here nor there.

Wayne said nothing as Eddie stretched the phone cord into his bedroom and closed his door just so. There were many things to love about Wayne, but his leaving Eddie to his own business was something he was forever grateful for – even if he was much warier about doing so these days, understandably so.

They were 20 minutes into an amicable conversation and Eddie had already sneezed four times, relishing in the blessings Steve had offered. Steve was a lot more confident over the phone – probably due to the fact that his ability to disguise his body language fucking sucked, and this way he had the advantage of being unseen. It was sweet that he was possibly thinking just because Eddie couldn’t see him, he wasn’t able to picture in perfect clarity the way Steve would be blushing and squirming all the same.

“So yeah, Robin wanted to drive a little out of town – there’s this huge homeware depot out in the middle of fucking nowhere with all kinds of crap. It’s fun. You should come with us.”

Eddie wanted to, knew he wouldn’t turn the invitation down. But damn, what was the fucking deal with those two? It was so confusing. He was almost 95% sure they weren’t together, but they were like Velcro. Eddie treasured these phone calls because it was one of the few times he could talk to Steve one on one – and even then, Robin would sometimes be lounging around at his house, omnipresent in the background of their conversations.

He was jealous, plain and simple. He wanted to lounge around in Steve’s huge house and spend every waking moment with him, following him round like a little puppy dog. It sucked to be jealous of Robin – she was great, a total joy, and it wasn’t like she was the sole instigator of her and Steve’s mutual clinginess. Sometimes it felt to Eddie like they almost operated as emotional service animals to one another.

He scrunched his eyes shut, hard. Idiot. They’re just the best of friends.

“Sure, I’m down. I was in the market for some new doilies anyway.”

Steve laughed, and Eddie resisted the urge to kick his feet and twirl his hair round his finger.

“They have way more than that, dude. I’m talking bathmats, spice racks, tiny little porcelain dogs – and that’s just a preview.”

“Ooh, porcelain dogs. Midwestern Grandma chic.”

“Yeah, thought you might like the little knick-knacks.”

Eddie could hear Steve’s fond smile over the phone, and this time couldn’t help it as his hand made its way up to his curls and – yep, there he went. Spinning the locks round his finger like a fucking cheerleader or some shit.

They made solid plans and said their goodbyes. Eddie hung the phone back in its cradle and cast a weary glance at Wayne. Still awake. He would have to be quiet when he blew his post-phone-call load.

~~~~~

Steve had picked Eddie up that morning with Robin already riding shotgun. She offered to get in the back the moment she saw Eddie, which was concerning. His disappointment at the seating arrangement (which he knew had had no right in feeling, considering he was technically the third wheel on this little outing that was literally Robin’s idea in the first place) must have been plain on his face. He perhaps overdid it when he flung himself in the back before she had a chance to do so herself, the cheesy double thumbs up he flashed them as they peered at him in all his pell-mell glory looking awkward and stilted even to him. It was mercifully brushed over, and he cringed at himself for only a couple of seconds before Steve was engaging him in some stupid conversation about what porcelain animals they should buy.

The store – or rather, the industrial-sized warehouse operating as a store – was an impressive sight to behold out in the middle of nowhere. Almost everything was out in the middle of nowhere in rural Indiana, but the sheer size of the outlet was unique. Robin was practically vibrating with excitement as she got out of Steve’s car.

Eddie was in good spirits himself. He’d been sneezing a lot that morning, but not enough to make him truly miserable. His medication seemed to have calmed the reaction a little, but not entirely. Not enough to prevent his nostrils from tingling and flaring at that first hit of pollen-laden forest air. He sniffled, inviting the sensation to crest into a small, flurried little fit of sneezes he caught in his bandana.

"Hh'Ngxtt! NGXtt! ngxt'tshu! Hh! TShh-Dd'TZshh-TZzsch'iew!! Ahh…"

Those had felt so nice to indulge in, like a salve to soothe the itch. He scrubbed at his nostrils through the fabric, glancing up in time to see Steve glancing away, caught in the act of staring – just as Eddie had hoped. Robin, having run ahead several paces, didn’t seem to notice, and called out to them to hurry up. Steve practically sprinted after her, and Eddie swallowed the brief disappointment at the absence of a blessing, or any acknowledgement from the object of his desire. Saved by the fucking bell, he figured. It was no problem. He didn’t plan on giving up Operation: Drive Steve Crazy just yet. He had gumption and hard-assery on his side. He snuffled one last time into the bandana before pocketing it and catching up with them at revolving door entrance.

~~~~~

If the warehouse looked big from the outside, it was even bigger inside – and packed, relatively speaking. Mostly by middle-aged women, with some reluctant husbands scattered about here or there. There were some younger people too – a few oddball looking teens laughing at some of the tackier slogans adorning magnets and placards, and a couple of pretty college girls fussing over fuzzy cushions.

“Wow, Birdie. Where the fuck do you even start?” Eddie whistled, tipping his head back to peer up at the looming ceiling.

“Huh. I actually have no clue. This place is a monster, right?” She grinned at the pair of them.

“Seriously, Robs, no game plan?” Steve said, stood behind the shopping cart Robin had assigned to him. He had lost rock paper scissors and was only a little bitter about it.

“You make this sound like an army operation.” She rolled her eyes at them, and rolled them again when they both uttered, in perfect synchronisation, “Isn’t it?”

“I’m gonna do a quick – well, relatively quick – scan of the premises, then you can follow me with the cart. Sound good?”

“Yeah, yeah. Brave the terrain for us first.” Eddie smiled at her, eyes lighting up at the prospect of being left alone with Steve.

“See you in three hours!” Steve called sarcastically after her, and she stuck out her tongue and flipped the bird in response.

“Crazy geek.” Steve muttered, smiling. He shrugged his shoulders at Eddie. “Well – shall we secure the immediate area?”

“Sir, yes sir.” Eddie clicked his heels together and saluted, feeling like a total dork and delighting in the way it made Steve grin.

Another round of laughter pulled their attention over to the teens, who were at last walking away from the shelves of feel-good signage. Eddie tipped his head towards the display.

“Could start over there, see if there’s anything worth hanging over Wayne’s front door.”

Steve nodded, and the pair of them made their way over.

~~~~~

The signs were as predictably awful as either of them had expected; it was easy to understand why the teens had taken such amusement in them. Some were relatively innocuous, like ‘If you were home, you’d be here’ – others much more heinous, like ‘I must get up – my coffee needs me’ (Steve’s personal favourite) and simply ‘Fart Zone’ (Eddie’s personal favourite). Laughing with Steve over dumb shit was surely becoming one of Eddie’s favourite things to do, and if these goofy signs facilitated that, he was happy to read out loud every single one of them.

The novelty soon ran its course and prompted by a disapproving huff from a nearby older lady, the pair of them giggled like kids and retreated. Eddie dragged Steve away by the elbow, as encumbered with the empty cart as the younger man was.

“Oh man, Robin needs to see that shit. She’d be on the floor right now.” Steve laughed.

Eddie smiled, burying the mounting wave of jealousy like swallowing the most bitter of pills. They’re best friends, he reminded himself. Of course he wants her to see this shit too.

They wandered aimlessly for a little while, sticking to the very front of the store so that Robin would be able to find them. There wasn’t much more to engage with – Eddie and Steve prodded at the cushions they’d seen the girls take interest in, giving up quickly as they failed to provide any real source of amusement.

As they turned to the final unexplored aisle in the vicinity, Eddie’s nose wrinkled at a sudden, overwhelming wave of artificial scents. He stopped and peered down at the rows and rows of shelves, all stacked full of aromatic candles.

Oh fuck. His lips curled into a smile he hoped didn’t make him look like a conniving supervillain. This was the perfect opportunity to fuck with Steve, just the two of him. They hadn’t even proceeded down the aisle and his nostrils already tickled terribly. He reached up to rub them for a moment, squinting his eyes shut.

“…You okay?” Steve asked, stopping a couple of paces in front of him once he realised Eddie had paused. His eyes kept darting from Eddie’s eyes, to his flaring nostrils, right back up to his eyes again. So nervous, so obviously transparent.

“I’m good, yeah.” Eddie sniffled, walking forward. “Never seen so many fucking candles in my life. They stink.”

“Hmm.” Steve swallowed. Eddie watched his Adam’s apple bob. “You sure you want to brave it? With your…hay fever, and all?”

Oh, that had been so hard for him to say, but he’d wanted so very much to come across as a normal human being and not somebody who popped a boner every time Eddie’s nostrils did so much as twitch. Eddie almost felt bad for the sweet torture he was about to put him through.

“Luckily for me, Harrington – candles, unlike plants, don’t tend to release seasonal fuck-dust into the atmosphere.” He squeezed Steve’s arm briefly, encouraging him to keep walking beside him.

“That’s not – okay.”

Steve was flustered, almost to the point of blushing. 'Almost' wasn’t good enough. Eddie had to ramp things up.

His eyes scanned the shelves for the perfect candle to sniff, though any would probably do. It was crazy how much the entire area reeked of them, the hundreds of different scents accumulating into a maddening cloud of itchiness that almost set his eyes watering.

At last, he located a scent he knew would probably set him off in an instant – ‘Spring Meadow.’ He reached for it, heart lurching in his chest. The candle was heavy, sealed in a cylindrical glass jar. Luckily for him, it had no plastic wrapping he needed to rip through to lift the lid and get a proper noseful of the stuff. Even a foot away from his face with the lid still on, the scent was overwhelming.

“Does Birdie like candles?” He asked Steve, rotating his wrist to get a proper look at the object in question – or to feign interest in it, to make what he was about to do look a little less insane.

“Uh, sure? I think her parents have a few round the house, but I’ve never seen them lit. The ones in Robin’s room aren’t scented…”

He was watching the candle intently, like it was a bomb about to detonate. Eddie supposed that was fair enough – he’d be sweating too, at the prospect of Steve sneezing his head off, willingly, right there in front of him. The detonation Steve ought to be worrying about was him, really.

“Huh. Maybe we can test some out for her?” He peered at Steve from under his eyelashes. The younger man’s eyes did not leave the candle, knuckles almost white as they gripped the handlebars of the shopping cart. “There’re so many different scents here – might help to narrow it down for her, yeah?”

Steve said nothing. He seemed stupefied. Eddie almost felt bad, again – but he felt compelled to continue, like he was operating on a motor. He desperately wanted to sneeze, and he wanted Steve to watch every second of it. He didn’t bother waiting for any response Steve could eventually muster, twisting the glass lid free and lifting the candle to his face. It only took one tentative little sniff and he was undone, nostrils flaring to capacity. He sneezed too quickly to even draw a definitive gasp to fuel the reaction, seizing with the effort.

“HAhgK'TISHHH!! TIShhh-TSSCh-TSHH-TSH'Uu!!”

Each sneeze tore its way through him with no small amount of violence. The eponymous ‘Spring Meadow’ sure fucking smelled the part – it was like sticking his face into a patch of wildflowers and huffing them, hard. The ever-looming presence of his hay fever and the underlying sensitivity it caused seemed not to care that the fragrance was artificial – it tickled as much as any real flower ever could, maybe even more so out of sheer concentration of scent.

Hands occupied by both the candle and the lid, he merely sneezed right out in front of him – and towards Steve. He wanted him to take in every detail – and from experience, and the sensation of moisture on his own lips, that would include a healthy dose of spray with each expulsion. His eyes were screwed shut, it tickled so terribly – he couldn’t open them at all, the sneezes rapid enough he could only surrender to them as they hunched him forward, shoulders jumping and curls bouncing.

"Hahdt'DZZCHhh-DDT'shh-TZShhiew-TSschtt!!....hHAHH'IGXKSH'SHiiewww!!! Oh m’by god…"

He took the opportunity of the pause before that final sneeze to pop the lid back into place, shaking and almost dropping the candle as he suddenly felt unsteady on his feet. What a fucking rush that had been. His tongue flicked out to lick his damp lips. Shivering slightly in post-sneeze pleasure, he placed the candle back on the shelf before allowing himself to look over at Steve.

It was everything he had hoped for – Steve was a total, lust-stricken mess. The eyes he was flashing at Eddie were bedroom eyes, plain and simple. His cheeks were flushed, and his lips parted as he breathed softly but frantically, like he was winding down from a morning run. The cart was an immovable object in front of him, blocking his crotch from Eddie’s view, but from the awkwardly hunched stance he had adopted and overall wild-eyed appearance, a boner was practically guaranteed.

It was so intoxicating, looking at Steve like this, that Eddie forgot for a moment he wasn’t supposed to lose his composure alongside him. His own pants were impossibly tight, and it took all the restraint he could muster to not push Steve down on the hard, concrete floor and dry hump them both to nirvana.

“Ha…not such a great idea after all. ‘Scuse me.” He offered lamely, reaching for his bandana with a shaky hand. This had been a stupid idea – his brain was mush and he felt himself trembling in equal parts embarrassment and arousal, unable to maintain control of his own devious operation.

“Fuck, man…bless you.” Steve offered after a beat. He looked utterly mortified as his voice broke on the blessing, but it also seemed to galvanise him. He cleared his throat and stood a little taller.

“Bless you.” He offered again, and this time he didn’t so much as stutter. Eddie’s eyelashes fluttered, and despite his best efforts, he started to blush behind his bandana.

“Thank you.”

God, fuck, shit. This was so hot. He wanted Steve so badly. He wasn’t misreading things right now – couldn’t be. The way Steve was looking at him…he knew he never looked at Robin like that. This was significant, he was right on the money, and the longer he played this little game the more certain he became.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked softly as he blew his nose into the handkerchief. “Do you need me to do anything?”

Yes, Eddie thought. I need you to get on your knees and suck my cock ‘til I come gallons. I need you to sneeze all over every square inch of my body, and then I need to do the exact same to you.

“No,” Eddie said, storing the bandana back in his pocket. “I just think I should get away from these candles.” He sniffled again, wrinkling his nose and flaring his nostrils. Steve watched every motion. “Tickles.”

Steve shuddered rather perceptibly, despite his obvious efforts to mask it. He was probably trying to play it cool, now, ‘fake it til you make it’ style. Eddie was fine with that – he’d teased them both to their limits. When he inevitably came later tonight thinking about this exchange, it was going to feel amazing.

“Yeah, we should – we should go.” Steve nodded, turning the cart round (still conveniently blocking his crotch) and Eddie was happy to follow.

They were almost out of the aisle when Steve paused, quite abruptly.

“Harrington?” Eddie asked, watching Steve stare down a nearby candle.

“How bad can they be?” He thought he heard Steve mutter, and, to Eddie’s dismay and pleasure both, the younger man reached out and grabbed the candle in his large, tan hand.

Eddie’s mouth was dry; his stomach flipped and he felt like he might pass out a little. He gripped the side of the cart for support, cock throbbing in his pants, as Steve removed the lid and lifted the candle to his perfectly pointed nose. His nostrils flared gently as he inhaled, experimentally, before taking another sniff almost strong enough to be audible. Eddie waited.

“Yeah, that’s not- hh’OhHH!! HUH!!”

Eddie blinked owlishly, felt his body burning up as if in fever. Was he actually asleep? Was this another of his increasingly regular wet dreams about Steve? It fucking felt like it, for sure – stood mere feet away from the jock as he willingly teased a mounting sneeze out of himself, expression crumpling and twisting in unmatched desperation. It seemed to be happening in slow motion; Steve’s head was tipping back, mouth falling open, eyebrows raising up, up, up. The picture-perfect image of a man on the precipice of a most impressive sneeze – or several.

Steve tensed, held in that pre-sneeze purgatory for what was surely no longer than a second but felt like an eternity to Eddie, and then he was sneezing so violently, so loudly that Eddie was sure Robin must have heard it from the other side of the warehouse.

“HUHHHH'RISHHHHHUUUUU!!! HAGKT'TISHHHHHH'IEWWWW!!!"

Eddie watched, dumb with arousal, as Steve sneezed directly onto the candle he held in his grasp. Whether he was unable to move away, or whether he simply didn’t care, Eddie wasn’t sure. Either way, it was about the hottest thing he had ever seen. Steve’s sneezes were huge, and ridiculously wet – each burst forth with a visible cloud of thick spray, baptising the candle as well as Steve’s hand and wrist, before dispersing into the air around his immediate vicinity in a glitter of aerosol. Eddie knew he was awake and not dreaming when the soft kiss of that spray dusted over his knuckles as they gripped at the cart. His cock throbbed, drooling precum into his underwear.

Steve’s head reeled back one last time with a gasp so intense it almost sounded painful – his chest puffed out with the effort. He didn’t move the candle – just went through the cycle all over again with one final, gargantuan sneeze that was impossibly wetter than either of its predecessors.

"AHHHH'YISSSSSSHHH'IEWWWW!!!"

The resultant spray hung around for several seconds before dispersing, glittering under the artificial lighting. Eddie’s eyes flickered down from Steve’s slackening, post-sneeze expression to the candle in his grip. It had been thoroughly sneezed on – there was really no other way to put it. It made Eddie feel even weaker to notice the droplets of moisture starting to slide down the side of the glass, actually dripping in the aftermath. He had never been so jealous of an inanimate object in all his life.

“Fuck,” Steve choked out, trembling a little and sounding a fraction as ruined as Eddie felt. “Well, that was – that was something.”

You can fucking say that again, you stupid, sexy bastard.

“Yeah. Um. Fuck, man. Bless you.” Eddie breathed out, trying to will at least a little blood into the rest of his body from where it had stubbornly pooled between his legs. “Are you okay?”

Steve looked down at the candle, then up at Eddie. Whatever he saw in Eddie’s eyes, he froze – they just looked at each other, silent for what felt like forever, before Eddie couldn’t take it anymore and glanced away. Fuck. He was just as transparent as Steve. When he looked back, whatever fire had been burning behind his eyes had vanished – almost as if nothing had transpired at all.

“I’m okay. Jesus. I think we should definitely give the candles a miss – spare Robin the disappointment.”

He was smiling softly, and it was enough to help Eddie ease up, just a little. He smiled back, said nothing as Steve replaced the lid and placed the worse-for-wear looking candle back on the shelf, spray and all.

“Yep. No complaints here. Let’s get back to the soap dishes?”

“Perfect.”

They walked awkwardly for a while. Eddie tried his best not to think about Steve’s own rock-hard cock as he willed his own back down. He was blessedly soft just in time for Robin to return fifteen minutes later.

~~~~~

Ever since his stunt with the candles, Eddie had been restless. Every time he spent time with Steve, or spoke to him on the phone, he felt the irrepressible urge to spill the fucking beans. To let him know that he knows, knows that Steve likes his sneezes, and he likes Steve and his sneezes, so maybe Steve might also like him and they should do something about it? But every time he built up the courage, felt like it was all gonna gush out of him in an endless stream of confession, it was like the words got caught in his throat and died there. No matter how much he willed it, he just didn’t seem to be bold enough. Which was hilarious, given the way he was actively teasing Steve with his tickly nose every chance he got.

They had agreed to have a movie night together, the evening before whilst on the phone. Eddie had been tickling his nose lazily with a clothing tag throughout, making sure to irritate himself just enough that the sneezing was near constant. Steve sounded breathless, and Eddie knew he had to be just as hard as him. They settled the plans quickly, then Eddie hung up and made himself cum three times before falling asleep, physically satiated but mentally tortured.

The day was a blur – another Saturday spent aimlessly playing guitar, smoking up and playing with his dick. He chain-smoked cigarettes inside his bedroom, which he regretted almost the second he started, both for the damage to his throat and the stink. He greedily drank half a carton of juice from the fridge to soothe his raspy throat, which he also regretted, feeling guilty about the prospect of eating and drinking Wayne out of house and home. Lots of overthinking and regrets as the day dragged on and on, hurtling him towards an evening alone with Steve.

There had been no marked change to his allergies – as active as ever, but manageable if he took his meds and stayed inside. So, naturally, he chose to forgo medication that day. He wanted to drive Steve crazy, even as the thought of doing so was driving him to the brink of insanity. The fantastical image of Steve, sporting an undisguisable erection as Eddie snuggled into the crook of his neck and purged the persistent tickle out all over his tan skin, and the thought of him blessing him and pinning him to the couch in return…Eddie jerked off again, feeling possessed, deranged. He shuddered as he came, then lit another cigarette and smoked nervously in bed. He was only pulled yelping out of his thoughts when cigarette ashes fell on his naked chest.

~~~~~

“Hey, man.”

Steve smiled welcomingly at him as he opened the door for Eddie. Eddie smiled back, bashfully, wondering if he would ever get over the feeling of nervous anticipation after he rang the doorbell and waited for that pretty face to greet him.

“I come bearing gifts.” Eddie lifted the bag in his hand, packed with chips and cookies and other tooth-rotting junk.

“Nice, nice.” Steve nodded approvingly. “You still want pizza?”

“Is the pope a catholic?” Eddie said, untying the laces of his sneakers and trying not to fall on his ass as a result of his impatient speediness.

“Cool – I’ll give ‘em a call in a sec, wanted to make sure before I did.”

For a moment, Eddie thought they were going to hug. He was about to initiate it when Steve reached out to take the bag of snacks from him with one hand, then held out the other for Eddie to bump. He did, a crooked smile cast Steve’s way that he hoped disguised his disappointment.

They made their way to the living room, where Steve let Eddie settle in and removed the snacks from the bag. He seemed full of nervous energy – they both did. The tension between them was so palpable that Eddie could almost taste it on his tongue – electric, like ozone.

“I’m glad you’re here, man.” Steve offered, one hand on the back of his neck. It was so adorable Eddie had to fight the blush rising to his cheeks. This kind of energy was contagious.

“Same here, dude. Excited to watch you piss your pants in fear.” Eddie smirked at him, tilting his head towards the pile of horror movie Steve had ‘borrowed’ from Family Video, claiming employee perks even when they both knew there was no such thing.

“Pervert. Maybe you’ll piss your pants.”

“Maybe I will, just for the fun of it.” Eddie stuck out his tongue, feeling as high as he always did when they joked around like this.

“Exactly – pervert.” Steve said - perhaps a little more fondly than he had intended, if the way he coughed into his fist a beat later was any indication. “Gonna order us pizza now, be back in a sec.”

Eddie waved him off, trying to relax into the sofa cushions and calm down the rapid beating of his heart. Steve’s sudden absence seemed to remind his nose to start tickling anew – he’d managed to steel himself for the walk up to Steve’s house, parked outside and recovering from the sneezing fit that had overwhelmed him on the short drive over. It had been desperate and uncovered, and he’d blushed to see the sheer amount of glittering spray left twinkling on his dashboard when the sneezes finally tapered off.

Remembering this event was the final straw – his nostrils twitched lustily, wanting that same relief all over again. He scrambled for his bandana, not wanting to spray openly, at least while Steve was out of the room. Leaning forward on the couch, he allowed his expression to loosen, panting expectantly as the sneezes built. With one outstretched finger he bullied the tip of his nose from side to side, gasping suddenly as the motion finally allowed the tickle to peak.

“Hh'EhhHT'TChiew!! 'Tisshh! HaHDT'Tshh!! ISSH'uu! Hh'NGxtshieww!! Eh'NGXtt!-NGXT'TCHIEW!! Fuck, shit. HEH'ISHH!! ISSH'IEWW! EH'Tschh-TScch-Tshtt!!”

He caught each one in the bandana, rocking forward into his own hand, gripping the couch cushion with the other. The tail end of the fit had been so vicious his leg kicked up off the ground a few times. He hoped Steve had heard him, but he hadn’t been able to make out any change to that pleasing voice as he ordered their food over the phone.

Eddie scrubbed at his tickly nostrils a couple of times, allowing himself in Steve’s absence to physically scratch them internally with his fingers through the fabric. It felt amazing, to literally scratch the itch, causing even more tears to spring forth and cling to his damp eyelashes. When he was done, he lazily half-shoved the fabric into his pocket and resettled himself. By the time Steve sauntered back into the room, he was comfortably nestled into the couch, the only evidence of his struggle a nose slightly pinker than two minutes prior.

“All good?” He asked, noting that his voice sounded a little stuffier than before. Good.

“Yep, ETA thirty minutes on the pizza.”

Rather than settling down on the couch, Steve walked towards the pile of videos on the floor. Eddie got up and started sifting through them with him. A short debate ensued, where the pair bickered over the kind of movie they should start their marathon with – in Eddie’s mind, shockingly reminiscent of the way the kids had argued the night he had clocked onto Steve’s secret interest. Steve didn’t want to be too scared, and Eddie could understand – but he didn’t want to be bored, above all else, and some of these B movies were...not great. They eventually settled for ‘Fright Night’ – which Eddie had seen before but didn’t mind rewatching. He was more interested in edging his way ever closer to Steve.

They settled down next to each other on the couch as the movie started - not an excessively macho distance apart, but not close enough for Eddie’s liking. It wasn’t long before their nervous shifting brought them closer together, like a dance neither of them knew they were doing. Even when Eddie stifled three little sneezes against an outstretched finger, barely audible, Steve didn’t tense up and flee the way Eddie had expected. He offered a soft little ‘bless you’ that went straight to Eddie’s dick and pressed his knee against his.

Eddie could hardly breathe. He watched the movie but took in nothing. The weight and heat of Steve’s leg against his own was the centre of his world.

Both of them jumped when the doorbell went – Eddie suspected for different reasons. The horror was starting to amp up, and Steve was practically chewing his own fingers off. He jumped almost a foot in the air, laughed, then assured Eddie he would get the door. They ate the pizza in companionable silence when he returned, laughing through mouthfuls of cheese as the movie became laughably camp.

~~~~~

Eddie managed to eat about half the pizza he could usually wolf down. The anxiety, the excitement of being so close to Steve was driving him crazy – and he hadn’t even enacted the latest tease he had devised as part of Operation: Drive Steve Crazy. The little daisy he had plucked outside his trailer seemed to burn through his other pocket, wrapped in another of his bandanas.

The plan had been to switch it up with his regular bandana, then keep the daisy concealed as he lifted the fabric to his nose. Steve would be clueless to his mischief as the little flower teased him into sneeze after sneeze.

For this to work seamlessly, he needed to sneeze again. That way, when he reached for the bandana, Steve wouldn’t so easily put two and two together that the fabric enclosed around the flower was an active source of irritation for him, ultimately operating as the cause of many more sneezes to come.

Eddie glanced subtly over at Steve – he seemed suitably engrossed in the movie. Eddie was glad he was enjoying it, perhaps a little regretful that he would soon be distracting Steve enough that he would be entirely unable to focus on it any longer. It was a fun movie. He raised a hand to his nose and started to wriggle the tip back and forth, scratching a fingernail round the rim of one sensitive, flaring nostril, and then the other. It was a maddening sensation, and it was just enough to work.

"EhHT'TSChiew! TSsiew!! Hah'TCHiew! ESHH'uu!! Ahh. ‘Scuse me.”

He sniffled, pressing a finger gently to his philtrum to avoid further outbursts for the moment. To his absolute pleasure, Steve blessed him softly, reaching out to squeeze his knee for just a moment. He didn’t turn to face Eddie – whether he was really that into the movie or was simply too embarrassed to look at him the metalhead couldn’t be sure. He muttered a small thanks, and with a shaking hand, reached into his pocket for the handkerchief – and the daisy concealed within.

This was crazy. He knew it was crazy – it made him feel almost physically ill with a heady mixture of anxiety and desire – but he was doing it all the same. Steve wasn’t looking at him as he gently unfolded the bandana, peeking inside to locate the little flower. He found it, his heart beating as he saw the smears of yellow pollen it had left against the black material from being smushed inside. He pinched the daisy stem between the fabric, holding it securely just out of sight, and lifted the bandana up to his nose.

It took barely the slightest sniff for the gentle flare of his nostrils to expand to capacity; the pollen tickled him mercilessly. He sniffed again, even softer, but that was all he needed before a dramatic gasp tore its way out of him, making Steve jump slightly in his peripheral vision. He had no time to apologise before his watery eyes slammed shut, mouth yawning open, and then he was convulsing repeatedly into the cloth clutched between shaking hands.

"Heh'ENGXT'TSSieww!! 'TSShHhieww!! Ah'ISHH'uuu! Haht'TChiew!! EHdtt'TChieww!! Ehh'NGxt'TSsschh!!"

“Fuck, Eddie – are you okay??” Steve asked, but Eddie couldn’t respond. His head ducked down over and over again, the sneezes growing in intensity as he lost all ability to hold them back.

"DDzZZT'TSsHIEwww!! haHH'AGKk'KShieww!! hh-HH! EHHDT'TSCchieww!! HIGK'TSSHhh!! 'TZZSHiewww!!"

Maybe this hadn’t been such a great idea. The daisy and all of its residual pollen was pressed up against his face, teasing his nostrils even as they fought valiantly to purge themselves of the tickle. And god, did it tickle. His eyes were streaming down his cheeks, fat tears of irritation rolling down as he continued to sneeze. Steve started rubbing a broad palm up and down his back, gripping his knee with another hand. Eddie’s cock was incredibly happy with the current turn of events, and he was grateful not for the first time for his preference of dark clothing.

"HuHHPT'TSSHhhh!! TISHH'Iewww!! Hh'IGSHHHH!! ESHH'IEWW!! hahH'AEGK'TSHieww!!...Hh-H-HH-!! EHDT'TISHH'IEWWW!!

That last sneeze ended on such a high-pitched and desperate vocalisation he would have mistaken himself for a girl. And fucking hell, that was embarrassing and arousing all at once. Steve exhaled, a broken sound that made Eddie want to go off in his pants. He absolutely could not let that happen, though – he had to put an end to this, at least cut off the source of immediate irritation. He lowered the bandana into his lap, exposing his dripping face to Steve as his face contorted in a tortured mask of anticipation.

A couple of really big, uncovered sneezes would probably put an end to this – at least he hoped. He couldn’t switch out bandanas right now without risking exposure – both of the daisy and of his erection, which Steve was bound to notice if he looked down at Eddie scrambling in his pockets. He let the ticklish, allergic sensation build, gasping dramatically and wishing he had some way of watching Steve watch him.

He gasped once, twice, then allowed his entire body to be thrown forward with the force of the resulting sneezes he caught loosely with one upraised palm – or that he, more accurately, merely aimed the sneezes towards.

"HAHHH!! HAHh'ESHHH'IEWWww!! Hh-HHH!! IIEESHHHH'IEWWW!!! Ohh my god…hh, fuckk…Bless me.”

“Fuck, Eddie. Bless you. Holy shit.”

He snuffled into his hand, feeling floaty and over-sensitised. Bleary eyed, he looked over at Steve, taking in that familiar expression; bedroom eyes, slightly parted lips as his breathing deepened, the flushing of his gorgeous tan cheeks. He looked a little longer, blinking away tears, and then he looked pointedly down. Steve pressed his legs together and shifted his hips in a pitiful attempt to shield his erection, but Eddie had seen it. He swallowed against a sudden deluge of saliva at the sight.

His eyes slowly made their way back to Steve’s face. As they did so, Steve pulled his hands away from Eddie’s back and knee. The sudden absence made Eddie shiver and long for that touch again, a burning need that made him feel almost feverish with desire. The movie continued in the background, and Steve turned unfocused eyes back to the screen, his posture rigid and awkward.

Eddie wiped his palm clean on the bandana, staring at Steve. He knew Steve knew he was watching him, but stubbornly refused to acknowledge it. Eddie felt like screaming. He wanted Steve to throw himself at him, kiss him until they were both breathless. Why wasn’t he doing that? What more prompting could he possibly want??

Fuck it, Eddie thought. If Steve needs direct, direct is what he’ll get.

“Enjoying the show?” Eddie asked, pressing his knee against Steve’s, forcing himself back into his space. Steve visibly flinched. He still didn’t look at him.

“Uh, yeah. It’s a good movie.” He mumbled, sounding reedy and desperate in a way Eddie had never heard before.

“We both know I’m not talking about the movie, big boy.”

Eddie brought the bandana back up to his face, just for a second, just enough that the daisy pushed him over the edge for an encore.

“EhhTT'CHIeww!! TIShh'ieww! hh'NGXTsshh!! DTSCH'Uuu!! Fucking hell….”

Steve shivered and scrunched his eyes shut. His jaw was clenched, the muscles in his neck tight and tense. To Eddie’s sadistic delight, his face was blooming an impressive shade of red.

“Bless you,” He breathed. He remained facing the TV like a lifeline, like looking at Eddie might actually kill him. “I…don’t know what you mean.”

Eddie frowned. He was getting irritated and short-tempered. All of the games he had been playing, the weeks of endless sexual frustration – the end was so near he could almost taste victory. But Steve was stubborn, stalwart - clinging to denial even as Eddie caught him red-handed.

“Harrington. Look at me.” No movement. “Steve. Please.”

It made no difference. In a display of uncharacteristic strength, Eddie yanked Steve by the bicep, ignoring his yelp of shock as he turned towards him, finally looking him in the face.

“Come on,” Eddie purred, lowering his voice the way he would when he was playing a seductive character in a D&D campaign, praying it was efficacious enough that Steve would listen. The younger man sat rapt, frozen like a deer in headlights. Eddie swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he took a moment let his courage crest, and then –

Steve’s eyes were round, wider than Eddie had ever seen them, completely zoned in on the daisy he raised up between them. He twirled it between his fingers, displaying the tiny little flower that pulled so many desperate sneezes from him. It still wasn’t enough. He still had to say it.

“You like it when I sneeze, Steve.”

~~~~~

The silence stretched between them for long enough that Eddie thought for a moment Steve hadn't heard him. He was about to repeat himself when Steve tore his eyes aware from the daisy and up to Eddie’s face.

It was like being sucker punched in the gut. Whatever Eddie had been expecting – arousal, acceptance, embarrassment, admission – it hadn’t been this. Steve looked at him with sheer anger and contempt. He was looking at him like he was a bug he wanted to squish underfoot. Eddie gawked like an idiot, finding himself as wordless as Steve had been moments earlier.

His eyes silently followed Steve as the younger man stood up, towering over him. Eddie could barely breathe.

“Get out.” Steve spat, glaring down at him. Eddie could only sit and stare back up at him like an idiot.

“Get. Out.” Steve repeated, his voice a little louder and dripping with emotion. Eddie’s mouth opened and closed, like a kind of stupid, catatonic goldfish. Any and all confidence he’d been exuding mere moments ago had vanished, leaving him cowering with his metaphorical tail between his legs.

“Steve. What??” He managed, sounding raspy and miles away. The way Steve was looking at him made his chest feel like it had caved in. His skin was prickly and he felt uncomfortable all over.

Steve’s fists were clenched tight, and they clenched even tighter when Eddie spoke. Eddie swallowed, his mind conjuring up the awful image of Steve beating him to a pulp.

No. This wasn’t what he’d planned. This wasn’t right. This couldn’t be more wrong. He needed to do something, to fix it before his entire world imploded. His mouth opened, but he was voiceless, again. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Steve’s; they had him pinned like a butterfly to board.

“…Is that why you’ve been getting closer to me?” Steve said suddenly. The sounds from the TV swelled in the background, a cheesy pop number playing as the protagonists found themselves in a nightclub. It barely registered to either of them.

“To humiliate me? To play some fucking elaborate joke on me?” Steve went on, voice shaking, staring and staring. Eddie shook his head frantically, panic swelling in his chest.

“No. No. Steve, listen to me –“

“You should get the fuck out of here before I kick your ass."

Hurt. Hurt exploded in his chest and spread through his extremities in an overwhelming wave that made Eddie feel like he was dying. Sickly goosebumps broke out on his arms. No. This wasn’t happening.

“Steve. Please. Just give me a minute. I can explain, I can explain everything.”

At last, Steve’s eyes swivelled away, and with their gaze their paralysing effect. Eddie jumped to his feet, hands raised cautiously in front of himself as he eyed Steve’s balled fists. Steve’s brow was furrowed, his teeth clenched tight. Eddie realised in another sickening rush that he was trying to hold back tears. His own eyes prickled in response.

“I don’t want to hear it, man. Just go away.”

Steve’s voice was thick with emotion. It was agonising to hear. Eddie was no stranger to self-hatred, but everything before seemed to pale in the face of his latest fuck-up. His own voice trembled as he opened his mouth.

“Steve. Please. I need you to listen to me. Please look at me. You’re my friend, man. I don’t want to humiliate you. What the fuck. I’m freaking out, Steve, please look at me.”

He rambled, sounding like a fucking maniac - like the way he'd spoken moments after he’d had Steve pinned to the wall of the boathouse, relaying what horrors he’d seen that night in his trailer. Completely and utterly lost, like the world was caving in around him. Steve must have recognised that desperation because he did turn to look at Eddie, eyes shiny and wet but marginally less hostile. Now he just looked pained.

“Then what is this, Eddie? What the fuck are you doing to me?”

Eddie floundered for a moment, licking his lips nervously, fingers twitching. It was okay. Steve wasn’t going to punch him out. He probably hated him, but he didn’t want to kill him. Progress.

“I’ve been. I’ve been flirting with you. Fuck.” When Steve merely looked at him, he carried on. “I figured out you like it when I sneeze, so I just. Kept doing it around you. As often as I could.”

From a purely clinical standpoint, Eddie could admit it was fascinating watching Steve’s face shift through so many expressions and colours in a matter of seconds, taking in what Eddie was saying. He looked almost blue when he muttered a strained little ‘When,’ under his breath.

“Steve, dude, you need to sit down.” Eddie reached out nervously, his hand hovering next to Steve as the younger man looked about five seconds away from passing out. Steve shook his head.

“When,” He repeated, words almost slurring together, “Did you figure it out?”

“…The night I came round for the movies with all the kids and had a real bad allergy attack.”

Steve groaned, sitting down at last and cradling his face in his palms. Shaking, Eddie lowered himself down beside him, crouching on the very edge of the cushion. He touched a gentle hand to Steve’s shoulder.

“Please don’t.” Steve moaned, and Eddie pulled his hand back like he’d touched a hot stove.

“Steve…It’s okay.” Eddie started, leg bouncing up and down and shaking the couch with it, but finding himself unable to stop. He felt sick with anxiety. He watched as Steve shook his head, face still buried in his hands.

“You don’t understand.” Steve rasped. “This is mortifying for me. It’s not normal. I’m not normal.”

Eddie shook his head, clenching his eyes shut, even though Steve couldn’t see.

“No, man. It’s really okay. I know how you feel – “ Steve scoffed, shoulders jumping, but Eddie ignored him. “I do. I understand you.”

Steve swallowed, hissing a breath between his teeth as he shook his head again, even harder. He was pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“No, Munson. You don’t. I’m fucking sick. You know. You know I am. Fuck. I am humiliated.” He was openly crying now, hiccupping soft little breaths like he was moments away from a panic attack, which didn’t seem like an impossibility.

Eddie looked at his shaking shoulders, then turned his gaze up at the ceiling. A wave of defeat seemed to pass over him, like a thick shroud that numbed his anxiety and filled him with a sense of sudden, otherworldly calm. It was extraordinary, quite how much he had fucked this up. Steve, instead of jumping into his arms and ravaging him, was now having an emotional breakdown right beside him. He’d made Steve cry. Instead of bringing them together, he had pushed them apart. No further than a foot away from each other, they may as well have been on other continents in that moment.

With the calm and the defeat came the benevolent thought, like a heavenly doctrine from above: Fuck It.

“No, Steve. I really understand. I’m exactly the same as you. I get off to sneezing too. If you’re sick, then so am I.”

His delivery was flat and felt anticlimactic, but it was out there. He’d admitted it out loud, for the first time in all his twenty years. The relief he’d been expecting by confessing was entirely numbed by the bitter self-hatred, by Steve’s gentle crying beside him. He closed his eyes. Maybe if he sat still for long enough, he’d simply cease to exist.

“You really need to fuck off if you’re going to mock me.” Steve moaned into his hands.

“You don’t need to believe me. It doesn’t stop it from being true.”

Eddie sat there, stoic as a statue, entirely focused on his new mission of vanishing into the ether. He didn’t notice when Steve stopped crying, so when Steve placed a hand on his thigh, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Jesus-!”

“Are you serious?”

Eddie willed his soul back into his body, looking at Steve’s face – his poor blotchy face, eyes swollen and damp with salty tears – and felt himself smile, weakly, despite himself.

“Yeah, man. Is it really that surprising?”

He felt like crying too. He was utterly exhausted, and he’d done it all to himself. Him and his grand plans. At least Steve was no longer looking at him with hatred or pain. Now he wore a look of cautious inquisitiveness. He tried to focus on the sensation of Steve’s warm hand through his jeans, like a tether to the material world.

“Will you tell me more?” Steve asked, softly, like he was abashed at his own overreaction, and like Eddie was a delicate flower to be handled with care. Maybe his destructive meditation had started to work. Perhaps he was turning translucent right now, and Steve was trying to coax him back to total opacity. He laughed, a forced, reedy little sound.

“What do you want to know?” He smiled down at his knees. “That I’ve been teasing you in the hopes that you’d figure out I was the same? That I thought you would confess to me, that you might actually want to do something about it?”

He grit his teeth as tears of self-directed anger started to form, blurring the image of his knees and the back of Steve’s hand in his periphery. He breathed out shakily.

“That I’ve been driving myself mad with stupid fantasies and touching myself to the thought of you, Steve Harrington, actually being with me? Wanting me back in the same fucked up way?”

Steve’s hand gently tensed on his thigh. He carried on, unable to stop, letting the tears gently roll down his cheeks.

“I’m the one who’s mortified. I’m humiliated. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking, man. I never fucking think, I just do. I do stupid things all the time. I fucked up. I’ve made a fool of myself, and I made you fucking cry in the process, and I really fucking wish the ground would open up and swallow me right about now.”

He exhaled. That was the catharsis he had been looking for. He was bitterly angry with himself, but he felt lighter than he had in – well. An exceedingly long time.

Steve said nothing, and Eddie didn’t bother looking up. They had both stopped crying. The movie suddenly seemed too loud, penetrating their bubble. Eddie listened as Steve reached for the remote and turned the TV off entirely. His hand never left his thigh.

“Do you still want me to go?” Eddie asked, so low it was almost a whisper.

“…No. Don’t go.”

Eddie looked up in disbelief. Steve was looking at him with huge, sad eyes. Where there had once been icy hostility, there was now only warmth. Eddie swallowed, eyes flicking back and forth between each of Steve’s.

“I don’t disgust you? For what I did, and everything I just said?”

Steve shook his head.

“No. Not one bit.” Steve swallowed. “I just…can’t wrap my head around it. I didn’t know you liked guys?”

Eddie flashed him a wobbly smile.

“Neither did I. Not until you.”

Steve’s hand squeezed his thigh again, and despite everything, Eddie felt his cock hardening under the attention.

“So…” Steve said. “Do you – are you saying you like me, then?”

Eddie giggled at that, letting his head tip backwards until he was leaning back into the couch and laughing for real. When it didn’t stop, he pressed a hand to his mouth to muffle the sound. He peered at Steve under damp eyelashes, relieved to find him waiting patiently and decidedly not about to take a swing at him.

“Harrington…” He managed at last, “I just told you I jerked off thinking about you in the weirdest possible way. I told you I’ve been flirting with you. We talk on the phone almost every night. I think it’s safe to say that uhh, yeah, dude – I fucking like you a lot.”

Steve nodded, fucking nodded his head in response. He looked pensive, like Eddie had explained some kind of scientific theory to him and he was really chewing it over.

“Good. Good.” He nodded some more. Then he started to crawl up the couch until he was pressed right up against Eddie’s side.

“Steve,” Eddie breathed, arms instinctively coming up to wrap around the younger man’s shoulders as he positioned himself over him, thighs outside Eddie’s, sandwiching him in.

“I like you too. I think I just finally figured it out. I like you.” Steve seemed further emboldened with each word, like speaking it aloud had been the final push he needed to open up to the previously unimaginable.

Eddie’s heart was pounding so hard he thought he may be dying for the third time in as many minutes, but this time he found he didn’t care.

“Steve,” He sighed again, unable to say anything else, hoping it was enough to convey everything. His cock was an exclamation between his legs. Steve hummed in response, pressing their bodies together and cupping Eddie’s jaw in one hand. When their clothed erections rubbed against each other, they both shivered and moaned as though electrocuted. Steve held his face close to Eddie’s, eyes like molten liquid as he gazed at Eddie under hooded lids. Eddie’s breath puffed out against his lips.

“Is it okay if I kiss you now?” He murmured, so close Eddie could feel the words take form.

~~~~~

Eddie lunged forward in response, pressing their lips together and pulling a tiny sound of surprise out of Steve. Their teeth clacked together a little painfully, and Eddie would have cringed away if Steve hadn’t reciprocated with just as much enthusiasm moments later. It was a heated mess, but then they found their rhythm and everything felt fucking electric. They writhed against each other, moaning into each other’s mouths with every nip and suck.

Clawing at Steve’s shoulders, feeling like he was going insane with desire, Eddie sucked Steve’s tongue, hard. The rumbling of Steve’s reciprocal moan made Eddie’s hands tingle where they rested on his back, the reverberations sending chills down his arms. When Steve returned the favour, then pulled away with a filthy popping sound and starting nibbling at Eddie’s bottom lip, he made such a girly sound of appreciation it took him a moment to realise the sound was coming from him.

Steve’s hand continued to cup his face, his other hand supporting his position over Eddie against the back of the couch. The metalhead marvelled at how he could feel like such a soft puddle of nerves whilst being the hardest he had possibly ever been in his life – an oxymoronic existence. His cock was straining in his pants, honestly starting to hurt a little. He wanted to do more than just suck and moan and buck into Steve as he clung to him like a lifeline, but the kissing was so captivating he couldn’t bear to stop.

He didn’t really get much of a say in the matter, however, as moments later his nose began to prickle ominously. The tickle clearly didn’t like being ignored, especially after all the direct exposure to pollen fuelling its voracity. It was as if it had waited for his crisis to end and the kissing to start before rearing its head once more. Each time Steve’s nose nudged against his own, the tickle blossomed relentlessly. He groaned deeply, feeling lightheaded as his brain - slow and semi-functional, bereft of blood as it was - suddenly acknowledged what was about to transpire.

He pulled back with an awkward popping sound, Steve chasing him immediately and stopping only when Eddie turned his face away entirely.

“Hey,” Steve gasped, sounding immediately concerned. “Are you okay? Wanna stop?”

“N-no-” Eddie managed, stuttering as the tickle ground against his sinuses, leaving itchy tears to prickle at the corners of his eyes. He turned back to Steve. “I just – I have’to-!!”

He pulled in one final, lung-filling gasp, teetering on the edge for a moment before he felt Steve press his face into the crook of his neck and kiss at his heated skin. The pleasant surprise of it pushed him over the edge, buckling forward and sneezing violently over Steve’s shoulder and down the back of his T-shirt.

"EHhT'TSHhieww!! ISHHH'UU! Hah'EnGXT'TSchieww!! TIShhh!! HIG'TChieww! HAH'ESHHHhhh!! Ohh, fuck…"

Steve moaned into his neck, the vibrations sending further chills of pleasure through Eddie and raising even more goosebumps up and down his arms. He sniffled, feeling dazed and dreamlike, and then he was gasping again, albeit for a different reason as Steve started to suck a hickey onto the side of his throat. He didn’t believe the myth jocks liked to espouse that they were de facto sex gods, bragging about the pussy they got and the way they made girls cream the second they touched them – but Steve? He believed it now. His toes curled at the pleasure-pain of that sucking, just the right amount of teeth and pressure to leave him writhing.

“Fuckkk, Steve-!”

Steve pulled away at last, licking the sensitive skin and blowing on it, making Eddie shudder again. He kissed up Eddie’s jaw, all the way to his mouth.

“Bless you, Munson. You’re driving me crazy.” He murmured before kissing Eddie again.

“Mmm,” was all Eddie could manage for another moment, then he was kissing back harder.

“Did that…did it feel good?” Steve muttered against his lips when they reached a natural lull in the kissing. Eddie’s face heated, because yes, it had felt fucking incredible. His cock throbbed and throbbed in his jeans.

“Yeah, fuck. Feels so good to sneeze, Steve.”

Steve sighed in pleasure, laughing a little and kissing the side of his mouth.

“Well, I guess your allergies aren’t such a bad thing.”

“You have no idea,” Eddie gasped, lips feeling swollen as they kissed each other stupid, “How good they feel for me.”

“Then tell me, please.” Steve said, making it impossible for Eddie to do so as they kissed for another two minutes straight.

Breaking away with a moan, Eddie gripped at Steve’s shoulders, putting to the back of his mind that his iron grip was probably stretching the tight fabric beyond repair.

“It turns me on. Not just other people, but me…I like it when I sneeze, too.” His eyes were screwed shut as he confessed, but the way Steve’s breath hitched as he started to rock his hips against his own urged him forward.

“I have to jerk myself off most mornings, when the pollen count is stupidly high. I wake up sneezing, and sneezing, and it takes me so long to stop. I just have to let it happen. And it feels amazing.”

Steve swore, burying his face into Eddie’s neck again and starting to grind against him even harder. Eddie moaned and carried on.

“Sometimes it’s so much I can’t even get out of bed and take my meds before it starts. It’s like the pollen’s been teasing me all night long but there was nothing my nose could do until I woke up, and then it doesn’t stop. I have to touch myself,”

He let his hands travel down Steve’s spine, emboldened with every word.

“And I make myself cum. The sneezes make my whole body feel so good, it never takes me long. Sometimes I think about – hah! People watching me.”

He gasped mid-sentence as Steve started to suck another hickey, this time right near his jawline.

“I think about – about other people touching me, and holding me while I do it. Fuck it, Steve, I think about you. I think about your hand on my cock, making me cum, letting me sneeze all over you-!"

“Fuck, Eddie!” Steve reached down between them, unbuckling his pants and pulling them down. He hesitated for a moment before standing up, shucking them off entirely, then his t-shirt, until he was standing in front of Eddie in just his boxer briefs.

“God, Harrington. You’re – wow.” Eddie murmured, wishing he could do more than gape like a moron as he took in the sight of him. For what it was worth Steve seemed elated by the response, smirking and moving effortlessly now that he was in his element.

“You gonna join me?” Steve prompted after a moment longer of Eddie drooling at him.

“Oh! Yeah, fuck, hold on.”

Eddie all but yanked his band shirt over his head, swearing as his guitar pick necklace managed to get tangled in his hair in the process. He reached for the tangle, shooting Steve an apologetic glance but receiving a look of pure hunger at the sight of his shirtless torso, so intense that he felt like swooning. Steve reached down and unbuckled his pants for him, wordlessly pulling them down as Eddie shifted his hips up, letting him do so. At last he managed to free the traitorous necklace, yanking Steve down on top of him again. It felt even better like this, skin on skin, Steve’s chest hair tickling his pecs as they pressed together.

“You’re so hot, Eddie,” Steve said, sounding like he really meant it - sounding, if possible, even more enthusiastic than he had in any of Eddie’s fantasies.

“Look who’s talking.” Eddie smiled shyly back at him.

Steve lined their hips up for a moment, sighing happily as their cocks pressed together. To Eddie, it somehow felt like the thin fabric of their underwear alone was even more torturous than when they had had the additional barrier of their jeans. He rocked up against Steve, moaning against his collar bone and clutching at his waist. Steve kissed into his hair, wrapping his arms around his shoulders.

“Have you ever thought about me?” Eddie panted out, with great effort, as Steve shuffled out of his boxers and started to help Eddie out of his own.

Steve’s cock, as expected, was unfairly large and gorgeous. It was hard to miss through the outline of his jeans even totally flaccid – seeing it at full potential had Eddie’s mouth watering, but also making his own junk feel entirely insufficient in comparison. His cock, though not small and what he would personally describe as on the bigger side of average, seemed to cower for a moment. He immediately shut down that unwelcome train of thought, refusing to feel emasculated and jealous like a fucking loser when Steve was right fucking there in front of him, his huge dick hard for him. What the fuck.

Steve reached down and took Eddie’s cock in his warm, broad palm, cradling him for a moment. Eddie twitched immediately, drooling precum down Steve’s knuckles.

“Shit,” He whimpered, nails digging into Steve’s waist.

Steve pulled back his hand, spat into it, then started to pump him in earnest. Eddie’s head tipped back with one long, closed mouth groan. Fuck, that felt good.

“I have – thought about you.” Steve confirmed after a moment. “Is this okay?” He asked, stroking and squeezing a little harder as Eddie moaned his affirmation.

“I’ve thought about you a couple of times, but I didn’t – I tried not to think about it afterwards. I felt too – you know. Ashamed, I guess. We’re both guys and I was thinking about us together, and how you – aghh. You know what I mean.”

Steve was shy, Eddie realised. He was naked, sprawled on top of Eddie and pumping his cock like a pro, even rolling his balls in his sack with his other hand – and he couldn’t even bring himself to say the word ‘sneeze’. Eddie felt a sudden wave of mischievous energy embolden him.

“Thought about me sneezing, Steve?” He looked up at him, eyes hooded and bright. When Steve blushed, all pretty and flustered, Eddie’s cock lurched in his fist. He clenched his teeth, feeling his orgasm approaching at an embarrassing pace.

“Need to back it up, Harrington – fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, god.”

Steve sped up.

“That’s kind of the point, Munson. We’re having sex.”

“Smart-ass,” Eddie whined, toes curling as Steve stroked him mercilessly. “I haven’t even touched you yet, fuck.”

“Then touch me.” Steve sighed, bringing Eddie’s hand from his waist and urging it to his cock.

Eddie spat in his hand before touching him, but Steve was already so wet at the tip, he noticed with no small amount of pride, that he barely needed the extra lubrication. It was like masturbating in reverse, on a bigger, thicker cock than he was used to, but so familiar he took to it in no time. The sounds that Steve was making, the look on his face as Eddie pulled at him – it was so incredible that his own pleasure seemed to fade into the background. All he could focus on was Steve, on making him sigh and moan and whisper his name. He liked the way Steve’s hips thrust uncontrollably whenever he teased at his frenulum, so he did it again and again.

“Fuck,” Steve sighed, urging their cocks together and rocking his hips. It was a little awkward as they jerked each other off, and their knuckles kept bumping together, so Eddie reached up and pawed at Steve’s hairy chest and stomach instead, pinching and teasing at his nipples as Steve took over rubbing them both. When he reached behind and grabbed at Steve’s round, muscular ass, Steve all but growled, speeding up his efforts and causing both of them to gasp.

“Fuck, this feels so good. Why does this feel so good?” He sighed against Eddie’s mouth. Eddie didn’t know what to say, because he himself was having a hard time remembering his own name. He kissed Steve’s neck furiously, nuzzling into the hair at the nape of his neck, inhaling his scent as deeply as possible. He smelled so good, like sweat and hairspray and cologne and something uniquely Steve. When Eddie’s nostrils prickled ever so slightly in response, he thought of the little daisy, wrapped in his bandana beside them on the couch.

“Stevie,” He muttered against Steve’s mouth. “Do you want me to sneeze for you?”

Steve’s cock throbbed so powerfully in response Eddie was sure he was about to shoot right then and there. His red face and immediate extraction of his masturbating hand seemed to signify that that had very much been the case. He managed to hold back through sheer willpower. Their cocks bobbed against each other in the sudden absence of his grip.

“Fuck, yes, yes.” Steve panted.

Eddie smiled, reaching for his bandana. He twirled the little daisy between his fingers, and sat back.

“You ready?” He asked, shooting a crooked smile at Steve, who was staring at him with a look of total adoration.

“Yeah,” He sighed out, taking their cocks back into his grip and pumping them again.

“Do you mind if I sneeze on you?” Eddie asked, heart pounding in his chest. Steve’s cock throbbed against his own.

“Oh! N-No. I mean yes, please. On me, don’t turn away.” Steve managed, his whole chest flushing beneath the thick hair there.

Eddie’s cock throbbed as he brought the daisy up to his nose, feeling so excited he could hardly stand it. He inhaled the sweet scent of it, gently enough that the tickle built gradually, teasing both himself and Steve, prolonging the pleasure. At last, his nostrils gave a decisive twitch, flaring to capacity as the allergic tickle swelled beyond breaking point.

“Ohh, gonna sneeze! Fuck, yeah, mm’gonna-!”

Dropping the daisy and reaching up to grip Steve’s shoulders, Eddie let the tickly, teasing pollen overwhelm him.

"Hah'ETSCHH'Ieww!! ISHH'Ieww!! IESHHTTt!! Hah'ESHHH!! IGXSHtt-ISHhh-ISHh'iewww!!"

Like Steve requested, he didn’t turn away, more than happy to shower him with his sneezes as he had done in an embarrassing number of his personal fantasies. It always felt good to sneeze with his own hand on his cock – it felt even better in Steve’s grip, rubbing up against his solid prick. He didn’t particularly aim the sneezes anywhere, just let them do as they would – but he suspected they were going just about everywhere. Steve’s chest, neck, stomach – and most importantly, his cock. That last one he could confirm, his own cock throbbing each time he felt the aerosol of his sneezes rain down in a gentle mist.

Whether Steve had willingly timed his orgasm with the end of Eddie’s fit, or whether he simply couldn’t hold out anymore, the moment the last sneeze burst out of Eddie and onto his waiting skin he came with a shuddering moan. Eddie raked his fingernails down Steve’s back, gasping as he shuddered and pulsed against him, spurting in several long convulsions all over Eddie’s torso, some of his pleasure reaching far enough to paint white stripes over the metalhead’s chest. It looked – and sounded – like Steve was having an absolutely mind-breakingly good time, and Eddie’s own toes curled in response as his own climax lurched suddenly closer.

“Fuckkkk, Oh my god, Eddie,” Steve was moaning, trembling slightly as he came down from the heights of his high. Eddie squeezed his shoulders tightly in response.

“Steve, fuck me, I’m gonna cum!”

He was thrusting erratically, the extra lubrication of Steve’s orgasm facilitating the approach of his own, images of Steve’s face as he came, the sounds he made, the feeling of him shuddering against him all too much, his eyes screwing shut, and –

“Nooo, Steve, no!” He whined as Steve released both of their cocks, his own starting to soften post-orgasm.

Eddie swore, retracting his own hand from Steve’s back and reaching between his legs, only for Steve to pull it away by the wrist. He grunted in displeasure, looking up at Steve with accusatory eyes.

“Why’d you stop, man? I was right fuckin’ there.”

If a dick could frown, his would be doing so at that very moment. At least Steve had the decency to look apologetic, even as the afterglow of his own orgasm softened his eyes in naked satisfaction.

“Sorry, I just – I just thought you might want me to. Um. Return the favour? Since we’re,” Steve gestured with his hand, back and forth between them. “The same.”

It took Eddie a second, and then the realisation made his sensitive cock throb so violently he grunted with it.

“You’re offering to sneeze for me?” He asked, light-headed with anticipation.

“Yeah, if that’s something you’d want.”

Steve looked so shy, so fucking vulnerable, but his soft brown eyes were burning as they peered at Eddie, flicking this way and that, waiting for his confirmation.

“Steve, holy fuck –“ Eddie gripped him by the waist, squeezing him firmly. “That is something I want, like, 24/7, man. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more in my life, fucking shit.” He babbled.

Reassured, and laughing a little breathlessly, Steve stood up, walking the few paces to the coffee table and reaching for a box of tissues. Eddie stared openly at his flagging cock, still half-hard and hanging in front of him. He needed to cum so badly it was agonising.

Steve repositioned himself over Eddie, straddling him in a way that was starting to feel to Eddie like one of the most natural things in the world. His hands reached instinctively for Steve’s waist, then wandered down to squeeze at his ass.

He watched, swallowing hard as Steve extracted a tissue and started to twist a corner of it into a long, tapered point. It didn’t take long for Eddie to understand the functionality. He smirked up at Steve, feeling a new kind of excitement rush over him; the evidence of the practiced way the younger man had shaped the tissue to no doubt tickle himself made it seem real, concrete that they really were into the same, crazy shit.

Steve smiled back at him, looking pleased with Eddie’s reaction but embarrassed all the same. Eddie would fix that. He would make it his mission to chase away that anxiety.

“I sometimes use this when I can’t – you know. Or when I just want to. When I’m alone.”

“God, Steve. You’re perfect.” Eddie sighed out, bringing Steve into a bear hug and letting the sudden feelings of immense fondness for Steve blend together with his arousal, an intoxicating combination that made his chest tight and his cock even harder than before.

Steve pulled back after a moment, kissing Eddie’s cheek sweetly. He held the tissue up in front of them.

“You want to do it for me? I’ll jerk you off.” He said, sounding excited enough it was as though he hadn’t cum his brains out moments ago.

“Yeah. Holy fuck, yeah.”

Steve reached down without hesitation, and Eddie had to fight from letting his eyes roll back in his head and cum the second those long fingers returned to his length. The skin of his cock felt tight, like it was going to split. Steve hesitated, then tilted his head back, just a little, so that he was presenting his nostrils to Eddie. The older man wasted no time in cupping Steve’s jaw with one hand and inserting the tissue with the other.

“Do I just, like – wiggle it around a little?” He asked, eyelashes fluttering as Steve started to pick up the pace on his cock. God, this would not take long.

“Yeah,” Steve said, “Or sort of – thrust it. It tickles more when you – HH-HAH!! Y-yeah, like that.”

Eddie swore, biting his lip as his cock pulsed, drooling over Steve’s hand in a pre-emptive spasm. He was tickling Steve’s nose – he was actively about to make Steve sneeze. He continued to move the tissue back and forth, gently prodding and watching Steve’s nostrils twitch and flare in response. To Steve’s credit, he was doing a wonderful job of squeezing and stroking Eddie throughout the tickling and teasing.

His chest started to jump with sporadic gasps, every single one threatening to push Eddie over the edge. It felt like he was burning up from the inside, like the intensity of his oncoming orgasm was simply too much for his body to handle and he would actually burst into flame. Steve’s nostrils flared, slackened, flared again as the tickle played with him. When Eddie prodded the tool as deeply as he could, that seemed to be the final straw for Steve. He gasped, a ruined, desperate sound of defeat as at last the tickle crested.

The sound of that final inhalation paired with the desperate look on Steve’s face and the expert stroking of his cock was too much. Eddie felt a wave of heat wash over him, holding him rigid for a moment, and then he was coming, so pleasurable he could barely make sense of it. He desperately wanted to watch Steve sneeze, up close and personal, just for him, but his head was tipping back in a silent scream as he convulsed against the couch. He trembled helplessly, unable to do anything other than fuck gently into Steve’s fist and grip the couch cushions beside him.

He heard Steve’s sneezes seconds later as they tore their way through him – as loud and desperate as he’d ever heard them – his whole body singing in pleasure as he continued to cum.

“HUHHH'RISSSHHHH'UUUU!! HAGKT'TISHHHHH!! AEESSSHHHHHUUUU!!!"

Each sneeze sprayed across his chest and stomach in a rush of warm air and cool aerosol, and the sensation was so erotic he felt his orgasm intensify when it should have been starting to dim. He reeled with it, spilling over Steve’s fist and his own skin, throbs of pleasure that seemed to go on and on. And then it was over, and he was melting into the cushions, no longer a person but molten liquid in the shape of one.

“Ohhh...Oh my god.” He managed after a little while, staring up at the ceiling. Steve’s face leaned into his line of vision, stupidly handsome as he smiled down at him.

“That good, huh?”

Eddie huffed a small laugh out at him, then squeezed his eyes shut as the endorphins overwhelmed him, threatening to make him cry. He felt Steve lean forward, pressing up against him and nuzzling into him. His shaky arms enclosed Steve in a hug. God, but he’d felt that nut right down to his fingertips. He felt like he’d jizzed himself into another existence. His body felt clean, detoxified.

“Eddie.” Steve muttered, face buried in his curls.

“Mm?”

“We’re both covered in cum.”

“Nice.”

“I’m getting a towel.”

“Too late.” Eddie giggled, feeling loopy and stoned.

“A damp one, to clean us up, dumbass.” Steve laughed, shakily standing up and batting Eddie jokingly across the top of his head.

“Oww.” Eddie said, even though he’d barely felt the whisper of the touch, and giggled again.

“Be right back,” Steve was saying as he walked out of the room, wobbling as though drunk, and Eddie waved him off.

He sat there, still staring at the ceiling like it held the answers to the universe. His body and mind were completely blissed out; every nerve was singing happily as he luxuriated in the afterglow, letting himself slowly acknowledge what the fuck had just happened to him. What the fuck he and Steve had just done, willingly, enthusiastically, even after he had fucked up so hugely.

He didn’t realise he’d dozed off until he felt the cool touch of a damp towel on his stomach.

“Here.” Steve smiled at him, urging Eddie to wipe his torso off as he did the same. Eddie managed it mechanically, still feeling more liquid than human.

Steve sighed and collapsed next to him on the couch, leaning his own head back and joining Eddie in looking up at the ceiling.

“We should shower, really.”

“We should.” Eddie agreed, but they both just sat there.

When Steve reached out and slipped his hand into Eddie’s, Eddie gripped him back, sliding his fingers between the younger man’s and squeezing softly.

“Hey.” Eddie said, rolling his head to the side and looking at Steve.

“Hey.” Steve looked back at him, glancing pointedly at his mouth, and then they were both kissing again.

“Go out with me?” Steve asked as they leaned their foreheads together, panting breathlessly.

“Yes.” Eddie breathed out, and Steve’s hands covered him all over again, and everything was electric.

~~~FIN~~~

And with that, Steddie are finally together 🥳

For anyone who is interested, this is the night club scene that is playing in the background whilst Eddie and Steve start having that awful little fight. Such inconvenient timing, honestly

[freakenomenon]

since you’ve already talked extensively about ted and ellens psychodramas + how they were displayed in the game, what do you think about other characters psychodramas like gorrister and benny?

sits back.

both of their psychodramas are confusing to me, but i prefer bennys over gorristers so ill talk about that first,,

i have like an EXTREME dislike for how they completely took away his entire character in the short story, especially with the erasure of his sexuality. but even beyond that. i just. Don't understand his character??? he was big and strong and handsome and hated the weak and. then what.

id understand if there was some kind of character motive beyond being perfect and not giving a damn point blank period. like if he was trying to prove something. to strive for perfection to the point of killing others because of SOMETHING. but they don't. i don't understand the point of completely reworking this characters already established and VERY WELL IMPLEMENTED backstory for anything other than censorship.

he refused to be weak in any way, but WHY.

it's not like with ellen ( sorry i cant resist ) where she grew up in a bad neighborhood where she was treated like nothing, so she decided to MAKE herself something.

which made it hard to cope with the fact she couldn't just rise above EVERYTHING.

or like with ted where he was forced to work for his family because of their poor financial situation, but then was pulled out of that by someone who was taking advantage of him.

which caused a giant rift in his identity.

benny has just. always been a cool big strong powerful man who didnt care about others!!@ and then when AM took him down he's not anymore boo hoo.

it's watering down what made bennys transformation from man to monkey so god damn horrifying. especially with the lack of compassion. yes sure he cares about nobody but himself BUT FUCKING. WHY? THEY DONT EVEN ELABORATE ON THIS IN THE MANUAL. FUCKING WHYYYYYY.

i like toto though, very fun little guy. very interesting character. he was like the only part of the psychodrama i could really,,, resonate? with.

now. gorristers psychodrama is.

what the hell is even going on

the only thing i could really gather from it is that instead of being an activist and a cautious "looker-aheader", gorrister was a truck driving alcoholic who had a bad marriage and an abusive mother in law who blamed him for driving his wife batshit crazy because he beat her. but. other than that i don't.

understand half of it. what do you mean edna killed gorrister. what do you mean Harry cut his heart out. jesse, what the fuck are you talking about.

i don't fully understand WHY we are supposed to sympathize with gorrister when he is. SOMEWHAT responsible for the mental descent of glynis. obviously edna and harry played a huge part in this, im not ignoring that at all. but the end of the psychodrama implying that gorrister should just forgive himself and bury the past because he wasn't FULLY at fault for punting wife into the looneybin. What.

once again, i don't understand the need for a complete flip of this characters original premis unless it's for CENSORSHIP purposes. alongside that at least the puzzles and the dialogue within bennys psychodrama make SENSE. gorristers just.

DONT?

it's not that the puzzles don't have ANY logic like a good one or two of ellens. THEY JUST. ARENT SOMETHING THAT A NORMAL PERSON WOULD DO OR BE ABLE TO FIGURE OUT WITHOUT JUST CLICKING SHIT ON RANDOM TO SEE WHAT HAPPENS. wait. Wait.

Okay. i know this is supposed to be a rant about their characters but. I just wanna say that a lot of the puzzles. Are things that RELATE to the characters and their stories and backgrounds. which adds to the enjoyment. WHEN YOU REMOVE THE ENJOYMENT OF THE PUZZLES. IT KIND OF MAKES ME. NOT LIKE GORRISTER SO MUCH.

if i kept going id just end up totally rewriting the characters as a whole and that's something for another tumblr rant to soothe my ever expanding rage.

im gonna go get a cheese stick

[xmissrogersx]

“Shit, i love this skirt” | Joel Miller

tags: Post-Outbreak. Fluff. +18. Period issues.

a note from pris: i write this during my period, and all i want to say is I NEED A JOEL IN MY LIFE RIGHT NOW.

my writing is entirely my own. Any adaptation and/or copy is forbidden.

i hope you are enjoying my stories! U help me a lot if you give me a ♡! All the love.

priscila’ masterlist

-Do you have the same one but in another color?

“Count to 10, Paris" I said softly, otherwise I'm going to kill the stupid girl in front of me. One, two, three...

-It's a blanket they picked up on patrol, not a pair of Manolo Blahnik.

-What's that? -said the one next to her. You're kidding me, they must be in their 40's and have no idea what i just told them.

-Are you going to take it or not? -they looked at each other, causing me to take a breath and pick up my mental count and avoid exploding.

-Are you sure there isn't another color?

I could swear my eye twitched the moment I got up from my chair, which caused the others in the room to turn their gazes towards me.

-Hey…why don't we go outside, okay? -Maria approached me and pulled me out, preventing something worse from breaking out.

-Sorry, but i couldn't stand those two assholes anymore —I explained, putting my hand on my belly as I suddenly felt a cramp, making it obvious what was happening to me. I hated it when my period came. She put my hand on my lower back for support.

-Why didn't you tell me and stay home? I know it sucks when it happens, honey.

I nodded slightly, not ignoring the truth, although deep down I wanted to keep my job at Jackson.

-Does Joel know?

-No, no. I didn't want to worry him, he had the patrol with Tommy and if I told him he'd probably chain me to the bed and not let me out.

-As if you don't like it when he do that —she said, raising her eyebrow, provoking a laugh from both of them.

-Don't make me laugh, I feel like I'm going to fall over.

-Speaking of Rome —she nodded his head at the entrance.

Getting off his horse and cleaning his shotgun, he was wearing a T-shirt that clung to his body due to the heat of the incipient summer that was already approaching, along with pants that molded his strong legs. Even if they had shouted that they were attacking us this damn moment, I couldn't take my eyes off him.

-All mine...—Maria laughed softly when she saw my expression.

-You're so horny, girl —walking over to the Millers, but not before approaching Joel, who quickly raised his gaze to me. He walked away from them, and in big strides was already lifting me up in his arms.

-Joel...

-Why didn't you tell me, baby? —He locked his beautiful brown eyes in mine.

-I love you... very, very much —I smiled innocently.

-That's not going to work,pretty girl.

-I'm sorry, daddy —I whispered the latter in his ear and kissed his lobe, getting a growl from him and a little giggle from me.

We walked through the front door, where he deposited me on the living room couch and then kissed my forehead and went upstairs to prepare the bathtub, since the book I had read and under Mary's advice, the hot water helped the cramps in my belly.

Just for one second imagine for a minute this man with glasses on reading a manual about the female period. When I thought Joel couldn't be more attentive and gentle, I caught him in that situation.

-Hi, Paris —Ellie walk inside and set his backpack aside.

-Hi,cutie, how was school?

-I hate fractions, seriously, why the fuck do I want to know how to divide a cake, I just split it and that's it.

-First of all, language. Second, it's important that you know it, even if you don't believe it, it's useful for everyday life.

-Like what? -He frowned and I opened my mouth to answer, but no word could come out of my lexicon.

-You're right, they're not good for shit —I answered with a laugh from her.-Well, I'm going upstairs…

-¡Paris, your skirt! -she suddenly exclaimed. I turned my head to literally see the fabric covering my ass with a small red stain.

-¡La puta madre! ¡Shit, i love this skirt! it's my favorite, i was going to wear this for your presentation.

-We can wash it, Maria must have something or some weird substance to fix it.

My eyes glazed over at how worried she was about me. Just like her father. I wrapped my arms around her body, to which she reacted in kind. On the outside many times Ellie appeared to be a tough and somewhat coarse girl, but it was only because of the constant struggle she had gone through for the longest and shortest part of her life. She's just a kid.

-I know how bad it is when it happens to you, and you don't deserve it —she said with her face in my chest, her voice distressed.

-Relax, I'm fine —I whispered, stroking her hair —I couldn't be better, I have my family and that's all I need.

-Being a woman sucks, I wish I was half as brave as you —she looked up at me, to which I laughed to hug her tighter as I quickly denied.

-I don't agree, ¿you know why? Because we are intelligent, fearful, brave. You faced unimaginable things, Ellie, and every time you came out of it, you got stronger.

-She’s right.

We both turned around when we heard him. He walked towards us and wrapped us in his arms to lift us off the ground laughing in unison.

-Let go of me, I have to go, old man —she pulled out of his grip to run away.

-So...we have about, what, ¿2 hours for Ellie's play? —I frowned uncomprehendingly, to which he once again pulled me back to my feet —I brought chocolate almonds, just the way you like it.

Damn crazy hormones. Tears began to fall down my cheeks as if a waterfall was flowing down my face. He tried to calm me down but I put my hand on his lips, silencing him.

-Joel, please, you don't want to take me like that after you see me from behind —I said embarrased.

-You have nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart. Actually, I like the way you looked at me when I came in from the raid —I opened my mouth wide.-You made me feel attractive —he said softly, to which I immediately brought our lips together.

God, I'd been holding back since this morning, points for holding back.

-Joel Miller, did you ever look in the mirror? —I stroked his mustache and beard.-Because I can assure you that Jackson's women do.

-I don't care, darlin'. The only one who can bring me to my knees is you. And I should also say that I've seen you get looks from more than one idiot at the bar.

I sighed and kissed his cheek. We went into the bedroom, and he put me down on the bed to bend down and start taking off my shoes.

-You're mine —he said kissing my thigh as he began to undress me, making me hold my breath. He wanted to etch into my skin that I belonged to him, now and always.

[avastrasposts]

Frankie & Din

Ok, the brain worm inspired by @fuckyeahdindjarin post about which Pedro boys would bicker and fight has had me in a choke hold these past few days so I might've blurted out a 2.8 k one-shot with our favourite pilot, sweet Frankie and our favourite space boy, broody Din based on the line; "Go on then, space boy, fly this.” 

Happy Frankie (and Din) Friday!

Also, no warnings needed, this is just nonsense!

And yes, I did download a 34 page manual on how to start a helicopter to write this.

Frankie was immediately drawn to the sleek looking…airplane? The word didn’t seem correct for the silvery vehicle that stood parked on the asphalt, at the outskirts of the old airfield that stood host to the aviation fair. The vehicle glinted in the sun, a thruster on either side of the main cabin. They tapered off to sharp points, as did the cabin, giving the whole shining build a look of speed. It hovered just above the ground, seemingly not needing any landing gear. 

As Frankie got closer and circled around the vehicle, he noticed a figure stepping out from behind it. The man, at least he thought it was a man, was as shiny as the vehicle, clad from top to toe in glinting metal armor. Even his head was covered by a metal helmet, a black T shaped visor on the front. Despite his dark aviators, Frankie had to hold up his hand to shield his eyes under the peak of his cap, as the bright sun bounced off all the metal, He’s gonna start a fucking bush fire, he thought to himself. 

“Hey,” Frankie said, giving the shiny man a small nod as he walked up to the main cabin and looked into the open cockpit, “Nice ride.”

“Thanks,” came a gruff, modulated voice from behind the helmet. He was standing still next to one of the thrusters and Frankie noticed that he had a strange looking gun in a holster on his hip. 

“This thing, uuhh… a new prototype or something?” Frankie asked, putting his hand on the edge of the cockpit as he leaned in for a closer look at the controls. 

“Don’t touch that.” 

The shiny man’s tone was low but with a thinly veiled warning right under the surface. Frankie immediately took his hand off the cockpit. 

“Sorry, man, just curious about the controls, never seen anything like it.” He looked up at the helmeted man, “You fly this thing?”

“Yes.” 

“Cool.” Frankie pursed his lips as his eyes slid over the sleek form of the vehicle. “Wouldn’t mind trying it out if it’s available?” Frankie didn’t notice how the shiny man slowly tilted his head to the left, the visor trained on him. 

“I’m a pilot myself, you see,” Frankie continued, “Flew a heavy loaded Mi-8 over the fucking Andes once.” He rocked back on the balls of his feet, “yep, I cleared that ridge.” 

The other man silently crossed his arms, shifting his weight over to his right hip, as he watched the pilot circle back to one of the thrusters. 

Frankie squatted down, tilting his head to look inside the thruster, “I think you’ve got some rust here, pal.” 

“There’s no rust on my ship.” 

“Yeah, well, either you’ve got rust or you’ve got a pretty weird paint job,” Frankie poked between the blades as the other man uncrossed his arms and straightened up, the fingers of his right hand twitched and flexed, he he walked over to the thruster and stopped right behind Frankie. 

The shadow of the armored man fell over the pilot who had to crane his neck to look up at him from his crouched position. 

“Oh, sorry, let me just…” Frankie scrambled to his feet and shuffled to the side as the other man bent down and peered through the blades of the thruster, running a finger along the inside. As he pulled it back he gave the pad of the finger a hard stare, the rust red dust clearly visible. 

“Told ya,” Frankie said with a smirk, “this climate is hell on any metal.” He strolled over to the other thruster and peered through the blades, “Yup, you got some here too, pal. Personally I recommend Loctite Naval Jelly, best rust remover on the market.” 

The only response was a non-commital grunt through the modulator as the man stood up. 

“Soooo…how fast is this thing? Looks pretty zippy,” Frankie lifted his hand to pat the front of the ship but halted his movement as the shiny man turned his head and looked directly at the hand hovering an inch over the bonnet. 

“The original N-1 tops out at three point five parsec, this one has been heavily modified, I haven’t tested the max speed yet.” The armored man strode over to where Frankie was standing and rubbed his hand over the metal where the pilot’s hand had almost touched, buffing out an invisible spot.

“In English, pal?” 

“Eleven hundred kilometers per hour.” He ran his hand over the bonnet, caressing the smooth shape.

“Get the fuck out of here! Eleven hundred k per hour?!” Frankie’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline, “You’re fucking full of shit!”

“She’s a repurposed N-1 Starfighter fitted with the original Nubian Monarc C-4 hyperdrive and two added J-type Nubian 221 sublight engines.” The pride in the man’s modulated voice was evident as his hidden gaze drifted over the sleek starship. 

“Ok, this is some serious hardware,” Frankie’s voice was impressed as he did another lap around the vehicle, “any chance of a test flight?”

“It’s a one seater, sorry,” the other man’s voice betrayed that he was in fact, not sorry that the ship would seat only one person. 

“Oh, that’s ok, I’m a pilot too, remember?” Frankie walked over to the cockpit again and looked in, keeping his hands away from the edge this time. “Just show me the basics and I’ll get a feel for it in the air.” He looked up at the armored man, trying to find his eyes behind the visor as he gave him his most serious look. 

“No.” 

“Not even pilot to pilot? Professional courtesy?” 

“No.” 

“You drive a hard bargain, man, “ Frankie sighed, taking a few steps back and admiring the ship again, swiping his cap off his head for a scratch before cramming it back down, “She’s a real beauty.” 

“She’s a spaceship, not comparable to the vehicles a regular pilot flies,” the man said, “your skills won’t translate.” 

“Ah, man, c’mon, I’ll take you up in the Mi-8 as a thank you,” Frankie pointed over to a large army helicopter parked a few rows away. “She’s not as fast as your baby here, but she can fit thirty seven troop seats, kinda handy when you need more than just the one guy to show up.” 

Frankie tilted his aviators down his nose, giving the other man a look up and down under the beak of his cap, “No offense, your armor is very bad ass but sometimes you need a full company of soldiers, ya know?” 

The shiny helmet tipped to the right as the armored arms crossed over the metal chest plates. 

“Ok, ok,” Frankie said, “I’ll make you a deal, if you can fly the Mi-8 right off the bat, I’ll shut up, you’re the better pilot.” The visored helmet came up and stared at Frankie, “But, but, if you can’t, then you show me the ropes on this baby and I get a test drive, low speed, low to the ground, I promise.” 

The shiny man seemed to consider Frankie for a few long seconds, the gloved fingers drummed on his metal pauldron. 

“Ok, deal. I’ll fly your helopticer.” 

“Great!” Frankie grinned and motioned towards the Mi-8, “And it’s heli-cop-ter but uhm, hey, man, whatever,” he gave the armored man’s gun a quick look as the black T of the visor looked at him. 

…

“Ok, here we are,” Frankie stepped into the chopper’s spacious hull and hooked his aviators into the neckline of his t-shirt, “pretty nice huh?” 

The other man looked around, taking in the utilitarian set up, no comfort, strictly focused on practicality and gave a barely perceptible nod, “Reminds me of my old ship, a Razor Crest. More space than the N-1.” He walked over to the cockpit and took a look at the interior. “What kind of fire power do you have?” 

“Uuhh...at the moment, six weapons stations, for rockets and bombs, and two side-mounted machine guns, but all inactive in this particular one.” Frankie tapped the empty mount attached to the chopper.

“No lasers?” The other man’s helmeted chin tilted up, surprise in his voice and Frankie’s eyebrows knotted. 

“No, no lasers, we use bullets on this planet, pal.” 

“Huh,” came the modulated reply, the visor turning back to the cockpit as he stepped into it, looking around the controls. 

“You need keys for this thing, or what?” he asked, sitting down in the pilot’s seat. 

“Hey shiny, that’s the wrong seat,” Frankie snarked, stepping into the cockpit. The other man froze for a moment before he shuffled over to the other seat as Frankie’s chuckled, he felt pretty confident about this bet. Leaning back against the side of the co-pilot seat the man had just vacated, he crossed his arms and grinned. 

“Go on then, space boy, fly this.” 

The visor snapped back to Frankie who just arched an eyebrow at his own reflection, bouncing back at him from the smooth metal. 

“Keys.” Came the flat, modulated response. 

“No, no keys, you just activate the circuit breakers,” Frankie replied, watching the armored man scan the control panel. Through the modulator came a small huff. 

“Hrrrmm…” Frankie cleared his voice, “over here,” he said, leaning over the smooth metal of the shoulder piece and pointing to a row of switches. 

The other man flicked them and his fingers hovered over the next set of switches marked Banks for a few seconds, before he flicked them too. 

“And then the battery…” Frankie said, pointing to the dial when the other man’s gaze roamed across the panel. The dial had several settings and the gloved hand grabbed it but didn’t turn it, another huff coming from the modulator.

“DC Battery Buses,” came Frankie’s voice from behind him and the gloved hand turned the dial to the correct position before he sat back against the pilot’s seat, scanning the controls again. Frankie waited patiently, arms crossed, as the shiny helmet searched back and forth over the panel. 

“Hey, man, let me cut you some slack, ok?” Frankie finally said. “The deal was strictly speaking about flying, I’ll start her up and then you can take over.” He pushed off the co-pilot’s seat and stood behind the other man, “Shift over, pal.” 

The armored man sat still for a beat and Frankie reached out and tapped the metal pauldron, “Hey, buddy, you still hearing me?” 

“Yes.” The man stood up, and Frankie took an involuntary step back, the broad metal armor filling up the space between the two front seats, dwarfing the other man. 

“Uuuhh…yeah, so let me just start her up,” Frankie cleared his throat and squeezed himself between the seat and the very solid wall of metal in front of him and sat down in the pilot’s position. While his fingers danced over the control panel with practiced ease, the other man sank down in the co-pilot’s seat, watching the pilot flick a number of switches and dials while the machine slowly came to life around them. 

“Throttle on, Auxiliary power on, Rotor brake off,” Frankie mumbled, “Engine one start, engine two start.” WIth a hum the large rotor blades above the chopper started moving, making the other man lean forward and look up through the windshield as they slowly turned, picking up speed. 

“Alright, there we go, you’re up, space boy,” Frankie grinned and stood up, moving back behind the pilot’s seat again. 

“Don’t call me ‘space boy’,” the modulated voice had a surly tone as he moved across. “It’s Din.” 

“Nice to meet you, Din. I’m Frankie,” the pilot said, sitting down in the vacated co-pilot’s seat. “Now, there’s your stick, nice and steady on the up, give her power on the throttle but easy does it.” 

It turns out there are some similarities between Din’s shiny spaceship and the behemoth Mi-8 helicopter, physics are still physics. And although the large machine wobbled, the mandalorian managed to make it rise more or less straight up under Frankie’s watchful eyes. Going down was less smooth, the landing gear smacking hard against the asphalt, making the helicopter groan as Frankie winced. 

“Nice landing, man, but let's not make it a habit, ok?”

“Dank farrik.” 

“You owe me a ride, pal,” the pilot grinned from ear to ear, as he reached over and flicked a couple of switches, the roar of the Mi-8 slowly dying down. 

“Hrmph…” 

…

Frankie bounced on the balls of his feet as the two men made their way back to the N-1 starfighter, the setting sun glinting off the smooth metal. 

“Man, much as I love my chopper, I’ve got to give it to you, Din, she’s a real beauty, look at those lines!”

“Try not to touch the metal, I just had her polished.” 

“Yeah, of course, pal, of course,” Frankie strode up to the cockpit with Din reluctantly trailing behind. “Uuuhh…how do I get in? Just jump or what?” 

Din nodded, a low sigh heard through the modulator as Frankie grabbed hold of the edge of the cockpit and hoisted himself up. He surreptitiously buffed out a fingerprint the pilot had left behind on the shiny metal finish. 

“So…let’s see…” Frankie hummed to himself, letting his fingers trail across the buttons on the panel of the N-1 as Din nervously hovered by the cockpit, flinching as Frankie started flicking buttons. 

“You might wanna step back a bit there, pal, I got this,” Frankie grinned at him, the glass dome sliding back over the cockpit and the engines roared to life. 

“Wait..what!” Din spluttered as he had to stumble back, Frankie grabbing hold of the yoke and revving the engine. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be right back!” Frankie yelled, a wide grin on his face, before pulling back on the yoke, the N-1 taking off, leaving the mandalorian on the ground, coated in dust. 

“Dank farrik!” Din reached back to engage the phoenix pack, only to grasp at air, the damn thing was still stored on his ship!

Looking up he could see the starfighter zip across the sky, climbing higher. 

He punched the comms link on his vambrace, “Bring her back now or I will bring you in cold!”

“Hey, you’ve got direct comms to the ship, awesome!” Frankie’s voice crackled through the receiver, “Don’t worry, I just wanna clear the atmosphere, I’ve never been to space. I’m almost there.” 

“Come back now!” Din roared through his helmet but Frankie ignored him, a strangled gasp coming through from the N-1. 

“Holy shit, Din…this is incredible…” Frankie’s voice was laced with awe as the starfighter breached the Earth’s atmosphere and shot into the exosphere. “This is fucking incredible, man. It’s fucking space!” 

“Don’t go further out, we’ll lose comms, Frankie,” Din turned his head up towards the sky, watching the thermal trail of the N-1 disappearing up past what his helmet visor could track. 

“Don’t worry, I just…fuck…I just need to take in this view,” the comms went quiet for a minute, all Din could hear was Frankie’s shuffling inside the cockpit as he turned his head to take it all in. “Man…I can’t believe you get to see this on the daily, you’re one lucky fucking pilot, Din.” 

“Yeah, it’s pretty incredible, I guess,” Din conceded.

“Alright, I’m coming back, lemme just….there, got a shot of it, Pope’s gonna blow his fucking mind when I instagram this shit.” 

The starfighter soon appeared as a tiny glinting dot in the sky and Din focused on it, following its decent back down to earth as Frankie smoothly pulled the ship out of the dive, leveling out and gliding back down to the asphalt, letting it hover just above the ground as he slid back the cockpit glass. 

“Holy fucking shit, man! That was fucking incredible!” Frankie jumped out of the N-1, slapping Din on the shoulder, as he bounced around the thrusters, “Absolutely fucking incredible!” 

He stopped and grinned at Din, his smile nearly splitting his cheeks. “Man…I cannot fucking believe you get to do that every day. I never thought I’d say this, but fuck, that actually beats flying choppers!” 

“Yeah, it’s wizard,” the mandalorian said, the modulator betraying a bit of glee as Frankie continued to bounce around the N-1, snapping shots of it from every angle. 

“Uhhm…” Din tilted his head and jerked his thumb behind him, “I’ve got a…an acquaintance, she’s restored an old Razor Crest. If you want, I can check if she’ll give you a good price, if you’re interested.”

“You serious?” Frankie stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide under the brim of his cap, “a spaceship?”

“It’s not an N-1 starfighter, but I think you’ll like it.” 

“Lead the way, pal!” Frankie slapped his hand on Din’s metal pauldron before hastily retracting it, “Sorry ‘bout that, I’ll just….” he surreptitiously buffed the metal with the sleeve of his flannel shirt under Din’s hard gaze. 

The two men walked off down the airfield as the sun dipped down beneath the horizon. 

“Hey, maybe when I get this ship, we can work together?”

“No.” 

“I bet you need extra cargo space sometimes.” 

“Hrmph…”

“Everybody needs a bit of extra space, pal”. 

“Maybe.” 

“Hey, lemme tell you about that time I flew over the fucking Andes!” 

“No.” 

The End

@imaswellkid Though you might enjoy this too!

[castillon02]

On the sidewalk outside his apartment, a brown-eyed youth accosted him, saying he looked like the kind of enterprising man who would gladly pay someone to do his laundry. 

In one of those intuitive moments that made him so good at his job, Wade flashed back to Spidey, six months prior, casually asking him what kind of manual labor he’d ever pay someone to do, and Wade confessing that laundry would definitely be it except he’d never trust anyone else to do it. 

Oh-ho-ho. 

(Had Wade silently implied that his laundry suspicions were for Mercenary Reasons and not because he had a specific brand of hypoallergenic detergent that worked for his skin? Yes, yes he had.)

Wade lured the guy in for a “test run” in his “natural habitat” and was 99.9% sure that this was Spidey when he followed Wade into his lair without seeming worried and failed to do a double-take at Wade’s Armchair Throne of Death. 

He was 100% sure when he asked for the guy’s name and the guy said, “Peter Parker.” 

“I FUCKING KNEW IT!” Wade spun and pointed at him. “I told you those camera trajectories were Spidey POV all the fucking way! ‘He just takes the stairs, Deadpool,’” he mimicked. “‘He has a drone, Deadpool.’ You know I spear every drone out of the sky because my body gets temporarily inhabited by the millenia-old spirit of CavePool!”  

Spider-Parker (Sparker? Spiker? Parder?) sighed. “I do know,” he admitted. “And I appreciate it. Times were easier before any Tom, Dick, and Harry could get a bird’s-eye view. Although you making me go fetch your knife kinda makes us even.”

Wade tilted his head. “What are you talking about? You just do the—you know, ‘thwip, thwip, motherfucker,’” he said, gesturing with imaginary web shooters. “It takes like two seconds.” 

“Yeah, now.” 

There was a moment of silence during which Wade, and presumably also Spark-ike-ner, recalled the first time that Wade had thrown a knife at an invasive drone hovering at rooftop level. He had panicked about losing his favorite knife, dived to retrieve it, splatted himself, and woken up to find Spidey autographing the broken drone for a pale-faced twenty-something. Wade had added some bloodstained cash into the bargain, complete with Instagram selfie, just in case the jerk tried to sue later.  

…Cash! Right. Spidey was here for a reason. “So…you’re actually low on dough?” Wade asked. “This wasn’t a weird plot to—” 

“It was a weird plot to earn ramen bucks,” Spidey said with a wry twist of his lips that Wade could actually see because it wasn’t behind a mask, which was. Fantastic, to be honest. That mouth made him wish he could think the word ‘spiffing’ with a straight face. 

“Hang on,” Wade said. “You get money photographing your encounters with villains. You can’t tell me that none of them would side hustle with you. Why haven’t you just, you know, been a little slow to catch one once in a while instead of putting yourself out of a job?” 

“Because that would be morally bankrupt,” Peter said. Then he got a strange look on his face and said, “Shit, sorry, I have to make a call.” 

The lunatic turned away from him, like putting his back to Wade would do literally anything to give him privacy, and pulled his phone out. 

It rang twice before someone picked up. 

“Pete! You know I’m always glad to hear from you, but—” 

“Harry,” Spidey said, his voice dangerously pleasant. “Why does the Green Goblin suddenly ‘break free from his mind prison’ whenever I complain about my bills?”   

“Shit!” someone on the other end of the line said, followed by a clatter of suspiciously metal-sounding objects being dropped onto cement. One of them, clearly round, which was SUSPICIOUSLY THE SAME SHAPE AS A GOBLIN BOMB, rolled audibly and awkwardly across the floor. 

“Harry,” Spidey sighed. “You can’t just—just—I mean, you have gotten pretty non-lethal, at least. What did you even do, last time? That kid’s ice cream? He was six, man.” 

“I mailed him a coupon for a free one after,” Harry said. “Or ten free ones. You know, enough to make up for being mildly traumatized.”  

“God, that was a good photo: I got the dropped ice cream in the foreground since you’d just knocked me on my ass, and you did a great job cackling menacingly in the background. Even the color composition was gold. Strawberry is a strong contrast with your suit.” 

Wade winced at the flattering tone: DANGER, WILL ROBINSON. 

But apparently Harry didn’t get the same signals, because he said, “Yeah, I thought if I went for someone with rum raisin, it wouldn’t—” 

“YOU JERK! You can’t terrorize a six-year-old just because I need to sell photos! Or terrorize a city. No terrorizing!”  

“Peter. Pete. Look. I’m not going to terrorize the city! I’m just going to cause some minor property damage in a way that happens to be photogenic. I had this idea for a thing with some roses—” 

“Cliche,” Peter said immediately. 

“Orchids?” 

“Too sexual. Maybe daisies?” Peter said. “They’d kind of fit your ‘I hate children’ vibe and you could dye them different colors. Uh—IF you did this. Which you won’t. Because that would be bad and wrong.” 

Wade grinned. Spoken like a true artist: starving and with conflicting creative and moral convictions. 

On the other end of the phone, Harry seemed to rally. “Okay, picture this: What if I hired you and a bunch of child actors to do a Green Goblin charity calendar for the benefit of organizations trying to cure genetic diseases?”  

Wade was hit with the sudden realization that he, Deadpool, was like if Peter’s morally dubious and crazypants best Goblin friend fucked his charismatic, award-winning actor best friend and they had Wade as a baby but then left him to be raised by a nanny who was secretly an AK-47. 

That is to say, that Spidey wasn't in this friendship-whatever just because he had a saving-morally-dubious people thing, or a rebellion-against-Iron-Man thing, or even a lookin'-for-some-strange thing. He came by his attraction to Wade honestly. He was just really into semi-competent nutjobs.     

“If it’s for charity, shouldn’t my labor be free?” Peter asked Harry while Wade had his revelation. “I don’t have time to do a free Green Goblin charity calendar for the benefit of organizations trying to cure genetic disease!” 

Harry sighed. “I keep telling you that’s not how nonprofits work,” he said. “All right, wait, let me hit you with this—” 

“Oh my god, Harry, we’re gonna synergize about this never. Bye, talk to you LATER, by which I mean I’m going to need a cool-down of at least three weeks.” Peter ended the call and slipped his phone into his pocket. “Anyway!” he said, springing around with a hopeful, too-big smile on his face. “You were about to pay me for doing your laundry and also promise to keep my identity a secret forever.” 

Wade raised his eyebrows beneath his mask. “Oh, was I?” 

Spidey’s shoulders slumped halfway down his body. “Waaaaaaaaade.”  

“Yeah, I guess I was. But you’ll regret it after I show you Mount Sniff-Test.” 

“You mean Mount Job Security?” 

Wade shook his head. “Always the optimist.” At least Spidey had wall-climbing powers so he could reach the top.

In fact, the odds of Wade's laundry pile reaching zero were astronomically low. Especially because Wade had no problem buying more clothes. And if Spidey stuck around long enough, well...maybe Wade could arrange for two semi-competent nutjobs to enjoy two semi-competent handjobs. Blowjobs. Heartjobs. Something like that.

Wade threw open the door of the room that he had previously told Spidey was full of full-frontal pornography and guns.

"Oh shit," Spidey said, his eyes wide as he tilted his head up to capture the magnificent heights reached in Wade's laundry mausoleum. He swallowed and then clapped his hands together. "Okay," he said. "Okay. We can do this if we work together."

Wade smiled. "The fact that you haven't run away screaming from this abomination of sanitation tells me all I need to know."

[withacapitalp]

Stranger Things Daily Drabble: House and Home

Or the one where I have Eddie make a big, over the top, gesture.

There was mold in the sink, and cracked tiles on the bathroom floor. The living room had the most disgusting shag carpet Steve had ever seen, and he was pretty sure that the lock on the back door didn’t actually work. 

The house was, in a word, a mess. 

The thing Steve couldn’t figure out was why Eddie had brought him here. He had dragged Steve out of work the second the clock hit five, and, instead of being annoyed, Robin had just given them a thumbs up and started closing up the store all on her own. She hated doing that, and she always bitched whenever Steve ducked out early, especially if it was because of Eddie. Ever since he had started crashing on her couch, they had been even more inseparable, so Robin just letting Steve go without a word was incredibly suspect. 

There was something going on here. Something fishy. 

“So, why exactly did you bring me to a rundown old dump on the bad side of town?” Steve asked with a raise of his brow, mentally preparing himself for some kind of prank or joke. 

Eddie laughed nervously and chewed on a piece of his hair, rocking back and forth on his heels. More signs of potential nonsense, Eddie was worried. 

“It’s not that bad,” Eddie said in lieu of responding and Steve’s eyes narrowed. 

“A strong wind would blow this place down, Eds.”

Another nervous laugh, and more hiding behind his hair. Dustin was definitely about to pop out in a scary mask or Max was going to swing down from the rafters and knock him down to the ground. Something was going on. 

“Who even owns this place?! Are we trespassing?” Steve demanded to know, his hands on his hips. He was in “full mom mode” as the kids liked to say. No nonsense, no shenanigans. If Eddie had just broken into some decrepit old abandoned shack to try and scare Steve, then he was going to be sleeping by himself for quite a few weeks. 

Steve wanted the truth, and he wanted it now. 

“We own it.” 

Steve was…not prepared for that truth. 

“Well, me, but, us. We. If you wanted,” Eddie tacked on, glancing frantically from Steve, to the roof, then Steve again. It was like he wanted to know how his boyfriend was reacting, but he also couldn’t stand seeing it. 

“What?”

Steve heard his voice, but he didn’t remember speaking. He was still trying to wrap his mind around the concept of ‘us’ and ‘house’. 

“Okay I know you said that you didn’t want to come live in the trailer after everything went down with your parents, and that was totally your choice! I don’t want to like stick myself where I don’t belong. I know that living with Robin has been fine and you’re okay with it, but I thought that you might want something a little more permanent than your lesbian best friend’s couch.” 

Eddie was rambling. Eddie rambled all the time, but he was rambling even more than usual now. He was bouncing up and down in place just like Dustin normally did. In any other circumstances, Steve would have found that incredibly cute. 

Steve couldn’t feel a thing. 

“It’s definitely a fixer upper, but I thought that the kitchen was big enough for you to be able to make family meals the way you like, and we could put some flower boxes in to hide the rotting window sills. With a little work, it could be great!” Eddie explained with a slightly desperate smile, jumping around the room and gesturing to things as he mentioned them. 

Steve forced his open mouth shut, manually taking a breath in through his nose and pushing it out. Eddie’s smile finally dropped, and his entire body sagged in disappointment. 

“You hate it. Oh my god of course you hate it. You grew up in Loch fucking Nora and I bought a death trap in the sticks without your permission. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done this without talking to you. I just thought that your parents are jackasses, and you deserve the home you never got to have, and-“

Steve cut Eddie off by taking two steps forward and pulling Eddie into the tightest hug he could manage. 

“You bought me a house,” Steve said, finally managing to make his brain work enough to say something, anything, to try and convey what this meant to him. 

All at once when Steve looked around he could only see the potential of what it could be. He could see the walls in a fresh coat of paint, soft green or deep navy, with pictures all over. They would have marigolds in the window, and a table wide enough for Eddie and the kids to play all their campaigns there. 

It was a house, and it would be theirs, and Steve was going to have a house with someone who loved him enough to give him a home. 

His breath hitched in a familiar way and his eyes burned as the enormity of the gesture washed over him in endless waves.  

“Steve?” Eddie still hadn’t hugged him back, still trying to figure out exactly how his boyfriend was reacting. 

“You bought me a house,” Steve cried, hiding his face in Eddie’s shoulder as he broke apart and the weight of the last three weeks finally hit him. 

Steve had acted like everything was fine. He had been completely calm when he showed up at Eddie’s trailer in the middle of the night, boxes packed in the back of his car and a black stain forever marking his heart. He hadn’t even argued when his parents had kicked him out, he had just walked. 

Steve had told the rest of their family what had happened like he was talking about the weather. He had lived on Robin’s couch with ease, and all the while he was pushing down any little part of him that had wanted to feel anything about what had happened. 

Three weeks of pretending he was okay, when he really, really, wasn’t. 

“You bought me a house,” Steve sobbed, finally letting go of the need to pretend. 

Eddie held him now, his grip just as tight as Steve’s was. They would probably both have bruises tomorrow, but neither cared. Eddie rocked them from side to side, tangling his fingers in Steve’s hair and hushing him until his crying died down and he was able to catch his breath. He pulled away and stared at his partner, marveling at how lucky he was to have somehow earned the love of a boy liked Eddie Munson

“So I guess you like it,” Said boy joked, and Steve nodded frantically, tears still streaming down his face as he grabbed both of Eddie’s cheeks and smothered the love of his life in kisses. 

“I love it. I love it and I love you and- and- you bought me a house!” Steve said with an exhilarated laugh. 

He loosened his grip on Eddie and began to walk around, thinking about where to put furniture and the best way to deshag the carpet. There was probably even a fantastic hardwood underneath it, and with a little work they could easily unearth that. 

I bought you a house,” Eddie said softly to himself, watching his boyfriend flit around the room with the first genuine smile he had seen in weeks. It was worth every single penny.

[neonbrutalism]

RIP Dead Guy (working title)

Unfinished WIP time.... there's a lot more to this but too many scene gaps to post officially, so here's the first bit for the Tumblrerers.

(Speculative Post-BTSV in which Miguel O'Hara of Earth 928B dies saving the multiverse and defeating the Spot. The Society is in mourning and the Spider-Gang is forced to reckon with their feelings. Complicating matters is that Peter's brought back another Miguel from the multiverse who is obviously not comfortable with how they're projecting all this on to him.)

Why hadn’t Miguel put a chair at his work station? 

Peter cracked his back and peered again at the the symbols on the glowing, orange screens, trying to make sense of whatever organizational system Miguel was using. 

Had used.

Dammit.

He didn’t want to bother LYLA anymore with this. She’d been subdued for weeks – well, almost everyone had been – and Peter wasn’t sure how long AI took to mourn. She did her scans and ran numbers, sure, but it was all without any … snap. 

Peter didnt think she was, well, aware enough to grieve… but he also didn’t think Miguel would put her mourning his death in to her programming. Hell, Peter was pretty sure Miguel wouldn’t have wanted anyone to mourn him at all, the stupid, stubborn, broken bastard. If only Peter had moved faster, had recognized what was about to happen…

But maybe it wouldn’t have changed anything. He saw Miguel’s face at that last moment, before…

There was nothing else for it.

“Hey, LYLA?” 

“Yes, Peter?” LYLA appeared next to him, expression unnaturally blank. 

“Sorry to … bother you? I’m just trying to, uh—“ Peter gestured at the orange screens, “I can’t make webs or tails of this.”

He paused, waiting for a reaction. None came. Miguel wouldn’t have reacted either.

“Anyway, uh, I keep seeing this symbol on certain earths? Looks like a… U?”

“A closed eye,” said LYLA, “After the incident, Miguel cut off any viewing access to mapped earths with… other versions of himself.”

“… Oh,” said Peter, slowly,”I guess he, what, didn’t want the temptation?”

LYLA’s eyes narrowed at Peter, “If you think it would have been tempting for him after what hapoened, you didn’t know him as well as you think you did.”

“Uh. Sorry?”

“Is that all, Peter?”

“Yeah, uh. I guess so. Th—“

LYLA vanished before he could finish thanking her.

Peter shook the interaction off and returned to the screen. He touched the closed-eye symbol. The system pop-up counted 793 locked earths. More than Peter was expecting – but maybe that wasn’t a crazy number, since there seemed to be tens or even hundreds of thousands of Peter Parkers. Had Miguel locked them all manually, or had LYLA done it automatically as their map of the multiverse expanded? 

In the corner of the pop up, there was an Unlock All button. 

He shouldn’t. 

Miguel had once told him, when he asked about seeing versions of Aunt May or Harry, that the only thing that spending time watching the dead live without you in another world was good for was torturing yourself.

Ha. Maybe if Peter had remembered to point out the irony if him saying that, Miguel wouldn’t have…

Fuck it. Whatever. Miguel wasn’t here to tell Peter not to. Miguel was just a miserable, guilt-ridden, self-loathing, dead hypocrite and… and Peter wanted to see his friend again.

He pressed the lock. There was a buzz of haptic feedback and all at once, the eye icons blinked open and Peter found himself looking at dozens of versions of a dead man’s face. 

Plenty of them were scowling, wiping blood off their faces after pulling their masks off or boredly picking at paperwork in an office or laboratory. Mostly they were just familiar in a way that felt like a punch in the gut. Stretched all the way out, slouching in a chair looking crabby or curled in with their hands hooked around the back of their necks, poorly dealing with some emotion or stress or another. Some of them, though, looked … happy. Or, at least they looked happier than Peter had ever seen Miguel, outside of those few weeks he’d spent with Gabriella. He didn’t see any versions of her, though. But still, at least there were some versions that weren’t alone.

One Miguel was standing looking out of a large broken window, expression dark and triumphant while a pretty, asian woman in a lab coat and inexplicably a pair of high top sneakers from 1993 curled her arm around his waist and smiled. Peter decided he didn’t want to know what they looked so happy about. 

A teenaged version of Miguel and a girl – maybe a younger version of that woman in the lab coat – with her hair in purple pom-poms, sat in a bedroom. The girl pulled out a box from under her bed, revealing what looked to be a lot of ancient Star Trek merchandise, smiling like she was a little embarrassed. Peter pushed that node aside too, he didn’t want to intrude on that.

A pink haired woman covered in chitin and with a thousand needle teeth hovered in the air on vibrating wasp wings and chatted happily while Miguel in his spider-suit listened, sitting on the edge of a tall building. Behind them, the sky was dark and filled with pistons and girders – Downtown Nueva York.

And speaking of Downtown Nueva York – an explosion caught Peter’s eye. He pulled the node forward – Miguel, in a different mask but it could hardly be anyone else, was fighting, his suit torn and bloody, not flickering with broken light like the suit Peter knew. Someone else – some kind of cyborg or robot, slammed a whirling metal thresher down on the spot Miguel had been lying less than a second earlier. He was losing the fight. 

Okay, calm down, Peter. Miguel was tough and could take a lot of hits  – he just needed a chance to recover. Miguel, no matter the dimension, was perfectly capable of surviving – until he wasn’t. 

Behind the cyborg … A Green Goblin rose up on his glider, bombs in hand. Miguel looked up at the Goblin and Peter was through the portal to Earth 416647 before he could stop himself.

(UNFINISHED FIGHT SCEEEENE!)

Peter stared.

This Miguel looked a little younger — or maybe just got more sleep. He was less gaunt, less haunted. Less like he hadn’t eaten or drank in weeks. His hair was little reidder, messy from his mask, curls hanging over his forehead. He had a small scar across his upper lip that the original Miguel hadn’t had either.

Peter realized he’d been staring too long only when Miguel took an awkward step back from him and exchanged a quick, nervous look with the now unmasked Green Goblin. He looked a lot like Miguel too.

Oh… this was Gabriel — his brother. Miguel had mentioned him once or twice. Peter was pretty sure the Original Miguel’s brother was dead — but then again, he’d never really asked.

“Uh — sorry, I’m. Spider-Man.”

“We know,” said Miguel.

“You said that already,” said Goblin.

Peter was struck with a terrible idea. One of his worst. But … the society hadn’t been the same in the past few weeks. A dark cloud had come over it and Peter wasn’t sure how to get it to pass. The fact was, nervous breakdown in the last couple of days notwithstanding, just about everyone had liked Miguel. He’d been their leader, he’d taken care of them and listened and tried to help them. They’d all loved him … 

Not that Miguel would have ever believed that in a hundred years.

But without Miguel, things were kind of falling apart. Not literally, LYLA ran the place like clockwork, but emotionally. Miguel could de-escalate petty arguments and fights that broke out better than any Peter Parker could (because most of the arguments involved at least one other Peter Parker). But now, arguments festered, problems went unresolved and still, every time that Peter went to the cafeteria, he almost picked up some empanadas before he remembered himself.

Maybe … a familiar face would help everyone move on? Or at least return a sense of normalcy until people got used to the idea that Miguel, their Miguel, was gone.

“Right! Right – um,” shit, how had Miguel done this ‘I’m from another dimension’ shpiel? “I’m from another dimension! I’m part of a – uh, strike team? Thing? It’s a few hundred other Spider-People and we travel around the multiverse to help people! And stop anomalies — wait, no, we don’t do that anymore. So just the helping people. That’s why I came to help you fight — well I guess you didn’t need help, you two weren’t fighting – but it’s cool! We have a headquarters! And a cafeteria and a gym. Just … amenities. You should come check it out. Miguel should – uh. No offense, Mr. Goblin, but a Spider-Society is kind of. Spider-centric.”

“Wow,” said Gabriel in a familiar flat tone, “I’m devastated but I think I’ll survive.” 

“Pass,” said Miguel. He turned to leave. 

“Wait!” said Peter, “I’m underselling it. I promise, it’s … really cool. Super elite.”

Miguel raised a skepical eyebrow, “Super elite with ‘a couple hundred’ people?”

“There’s a bazillion different universe, so I mean, it’s all relative.”

Miguel pulled his mask back down over his face, “Yeah, still pass.”

Miguel fwizzed a strand of web (pale, organic, not like the glowing orange Peter was familiar with) to the upper corner of the building and the Goblin kicked his glider’s power on. 

“Wait! Please!” said Peter, his voice breaking a little, “just – just come see it? And then you can come right back! Please?”

The lenses on Miguel’s mask squinted at Peter and then he sighed, “Fine. Okay – Gabri, will you tell Xina I’m …” 

“Being kidnapped by a time traveller?” 

“Dimensional traveller.”

“Whatever,” said Miguel, waving his brother off, “I’ll be home later.”

Gabriel gave a lazy salute and sped off on his glider.

Peter opened the portal to 928.

Miguel — this new, other Miguel — eyed it suspiciously, then stepped through.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

sent the first one and realized I might be feeling needy or greedy; so if you're yet feeling deedy and heedy:

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

DAMN! 90 sentences. Let's go. Might just finish this nearly.

SPOILERS AHEAD!

---

Buck tries to bite back a smile. 

“This means I’m considering it,” he says sternly. “Under certain terms and conditions.”

Eddie nods sagely, accepting this punishment.

“And what would those be? If I might ask?” 

“Well,” Buck begins. “I think I heard something about manual labor with bar repairs?”

“Bar, house, hell, a community garden if you need.” Eddie agrees. 

“Oh, a community garden.” Buck muses. “Nice idea.”

Eddie tries to keep a serious expression. “What else?”

Buck’s lips quirk. “Well, I might also need somewhere to crash temporarily. Considering the hurricane.”

“Hotel Diaz has vacancies,” Eddie assures him.  

“One last thing,” Buck says.

“Name it.” 

“Forgive me for losing it in the bar a little there? And for ignoring your calls and texts? Not my most mature moment.”

Eddie smiles at him. 

“Only if you can forgive me for the way I reacted.”

Buck nods. “I can.” 

“Then where’s the dotted line for me to sign?” Eddie asks. 

Buck leans forward in his chair so suddenly it tips a little. Eddie scooches forward to meet him. Their hands find each other’s faces, gentle but urgent. Eddie kisses him a little desperately. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I missed you. It says. And he thinks he can tell that Buck missed him, too. 

“So parallel universes,” Buck says as he pulls away. 

“Yeah, that kind of fucks up my whole life outlook, just a little.” Eddie admits. 

“Yeah, wild.” Buck agrees. “Sorry, probably not the best topic of conversation at this point in our very new reconciliation, but there is no one else to talk to about this.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie says. “I’m okay about it now. Confused, but okay.”

“I did research about it,” Buck continues. “And there are theories.” 

“Theories?” Eddie inquires. 

“Yeah, you know. About how it all works,” Buck clarifies.

Eddie feels a warm smile spread over his face, despite the storm outside. 

“Yeah? Tell me about them.”

So Buck does. And Eddie rides out the worst of the hurricane, listening to random facts about Ancient Greeks, Occam’s Razor, and many world interpretations. He’s not sure he understands any of it really. But he enjoys listening nonetheless. 

🌊🌊🌊

They’re lucky. The damage from the hurricane isn’t as bad as it might have been. As soon as they can be, Eddie and his team are back out on the streets, helping people. 

Maddie and Buck volunteer to help hand out water, food, and provide basic first aid to people who arrive at the station. Maddie, a former ER nurse, flies right into action. Eddie can tell she’s in her element. 

Eddie checks in with Chris and Shannon, who are fine. 

“The Wi-Fi was out for so long,” is his son’s very privileged complaint. Eddie feels grateful that’s all he’s had to put up with. 

Eddie’s house is also fine. Shingles on the roof might’ve taken a beating, but that seems to be the worst of it. They get Maddie and Genevieve settled in there once they can all leave the station, then Buck and Eddie take Eddie’s truck to check on his place and the bar. 

The bar is in fine condition. The outer walls took a bit of damage, but it’s mostly superficial. Buck seems to think it’ll take him a weekend and a case of beer to ‘fix her up.’ Eddie’s not sure where the confidence comes from, but he’ll happily be along for the ride.

The beach house is a different story. There’s a lot of water damage. The stairs leading down to the beach and parts of the deck have collapsed. 

“Fuck,” Buck says when he sees it. “This is going to take a while.”

“You’ve got somewhere to stay,” Eddie reminds him. 

“Are you sure? Eddie, this could be months.”

“I agreed to the terms and conditions,” Eddie reminds him, squeezing his hand. “No returns.” 

Buck leans against him for emotional support. He sighs as he figures out how to move forward. All Eddie can do is have his back. 

Maddie is less stressed about it when they tell her.

[hazelnatcoffee]

soapghost drabble

Doing Soap’s eyeliner before every Ghost-squad stealth mission was not in the field manual.

“Aye, watch it!” Soap hisses, the first time they do it. He’s got his legs slung over the stainless steel bench in the back of Alejandro’s storage room, and Ghost’s sitting opposite him with the compact and brush. Similar exclamations come from the others scattered around the shelves and lockers; Ghost had watched on with amusement, hauling ration bags back and forth until he saw Soap struggling by himself, and had taken pity.

“Stay still,” Ghost says.

“I am stayin’ bloody still,” Soap growls, then flinches. “Ow! You did that on purpose!”

Ghost snorts and gathers more of the inky paste with the brush. “Can’t say you don’t deserve it after that headache in Las Almas.”

“Thought we agreed I deserved a medal,” Soap bites.

“For what? Getting your arse handed to you?”

Soap says under his breath, “should’ve been for putting up with you.”

Ghost ignores that, but there’s a twinge in his chest and he’s pretty sure it’s not nerves before the mission. They’d been tentatively cooperative since Las Almas, if a bit distant, but this– hostility is new. It’s new and it’s cold.

“Save it for Graves,” Ghost says, finally, and brings the brush up to Soap’s eyelid again.

“Putting up with him, or getting my arse handed to me?”

“Likely both.”

“Ye know, I didn’t bloody know he was gonna go after us– if I did, I’d have kept my distance.”

“I doubt that,” Ghost says, thinking of the way Soap strikes up conversations like matches. “But maybe Las Almas was a lesson.”

Soap pushes his hand away. “It wasn’t. It wasn’t a headache, or a lesson, or–” his voice tremors, “--anything, Ghost, it was a bloody nightmare–”

He inhales sharply and cuts himself off, squeezing his smudged eyes shut. A few Vaqueros glance in their direction. Ghost braces himself for another round, but Soap just mutters a soft, “fuck,” and presses his knuckles against his eyes.

Ghost freezes.

Tears track down the liner and over Soap’s cheeks, streaking his face with black.

Any other time, with anyone else, and Ghost would tell him to pull himself together, or pretend not to see, but this isn’t another time and Soap isn’t anyone else. He’s the goddamn heart of their operation and he’s bleeding all over the floor, all over Ghost, and it’s at once everything Ghost expected and nothing he’d prepared for.

“Soap,” he says, and sets a hand on his shoulder. “Look at me.”

Soap inhales again, that sharp, awful thing. The guys around them that have noticed turn their eyes onto Ghost. 

“Johnny,” Ghost says.

His hands come away from his face. He ducks his head, blinks fast and fumbles for the wet rag he’d been using to scrub the mistakes off his cheeks before– Ghost takes it from his hand and cups his neck, tilting his head up. His eyes are the kind of blue you only see in a sky that’s about to cloud over.

“You’re right, Johnny,” Ghost says, and thumbs the wetness off Soap’s jaw, “you’re right. I’m sorry.”

There’s more he should say– could say, but he doesn’t think Soap wants that. The stares on them are more concern than judgment, but you don’t crack in a room full of people without feeling at least a little ashamed.

Ghost wipes the streaks and gives him a minute. When Soap’s breath evens out and he nods, Ghost lifts the brush to his eyes again.