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sinning-23 · 7 months ago

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Glass Chandelier

Warnings; 18+ swearing, some hints at masturbation, buggy is a drama starter, sanji is failing at keeping his hands off your body.

Link to Chapter 3

Enjoy-

Chapter 4

"Wow, you got another one? Already?!" A fourth and more....irritating voice speaks.

You tense again, brows angled down. Firstly, who was speaking, and second what the hell did he mean another one?

"I mean at least she's not ditsy like the rest of you idiots."

You raise a brow at Sanji then the rest of the so-called crew. Zoro sighed heavily, taking the bag you hadn't seen previously off his hip and slamming it rather aggressively onto a barrel.

The reveal was far more interesting than you anticipated, a severed head adorned with a large red nose and a red and white striped bandanna. It beams up at you, the face paint around its lips only accentuating his cheshire grin. You mutter a light 'the fuck...', leaning in a bit to truly try and figure out what the hell you were looking at.

“Not too close sweetheart, I bite.” It wiggles its brows, the innuendo making you scoff.

“Dickless and still talkin'.” You shoot back. The clown head is quicker.

“My mouth can do plenty honey, trust me.” It flicks its tongue and...detaches it?!

Oh wow gross-

“Why are you even speaking right now? Unless you have something useful to say, shut up.” Zoro interrupts.

The clown head rolls its eyes and does an awkward hop/shuffle to turn and look at the map.

“This one knew where to go without me even saying anything. Which meannnss?”

You tense, shuffling back and forth a bit, truly debating if you should punch this thing in the mouth or, better yet square in the nose. That'd shut it up. At this point Zoro has his gaze locked on you, it's somewhat unreadable but serious no less. Next is Luffy, then Usopp, and lastly Sanji. Wow, staring contest of the goddamn century.

"She's obviously been there before and could even be working for the bastard. God you guys are stupid. If I were you I'd ask pretty crucial questions before just throwing any random board my ship."

Luffy is quiet, looking from the map, and then back to you.

"You're already dealing with the aftermath of that as we speak HA! You'll end up doing it again if you keep bringing these random broads. " The clown head speaks, that same grin on his face.

"Yeah well, it's not like the fishy bastard took a chunk out of this 'broads' shoulder. You were stuck in a fuckin bag for that part though, huh Ronald Mcdonald?" Ouhhh the irritation in your voice is wicked.

His jaw drops as he fiends offense. This jackass has been active for no more than 5 minutes and he's already worked his way under your skin. Speaking of which, it's practically melting off as the rest of your 'crew' continue to stare for an answer. The clown had a point, they hadn't asked any questions and you'd just ended up being aboard with Sanji.

"Now's a good time to start talking," Zoro speaks finally, his hand ready at his sword. The last thing you wanted was tension among the people you'd most likely be spending an extended amount of time with. Despite this, your finger itches towards your picks in response.

"Oh yeah 'cause you talk plenty, don't you. I know the way because I've seen Arlong before. I made an assumption if you were even listening that he MIGHT be there still. That'll be the last time I call myself trying to be helpful. Or is 'useful' more of a term you'd like?" You'd hardly realized how close you'd gotten to the man, the sneer ever-present on your lips. Sanjis' at your side, giving a touch over your hips to try and reel you back.

It's quiet again but that clown's laughter rings loud and clear enough to offset the current debacle.

"Ha! Struck a nerve there. Listen, she is right though, you're gonna head in that direction. We get to the island and sing kumbaya, I get my body you get the girl, and everyone's happy!" He jokes, hobbling again to turn his head.

What a fabulous start to the tip. A panic attack and almost a fight. Simply fucking splendid. God, you needed a drrink.

It's dark now, and you hadn't left this room since you'd found it hours ago. You needed to reset. Gods know the longer you stay and interact with these strange characters you'd fucking explode. For some odd reason, in your newly adopted quarters you can still feel his phantom touch.

It lingers, something you make note of. The small of your back tingles, as does your waist and shoulder. Your neck and chin tinge and tingle in delight, resulting in a shiver that shimmies its way up your curves spine. Oh right...that's why they so prominent right now. Becaus you were filthy and couldn't help but let your fingers slip past your panties.

The ship rocks and creacks and with each splash of waves against the hull, much like the waters, you drip.

Promiscuous and touch-starved.

How long had it been since someone had been gentle with you, let their hands ghost over your skin. It didn't matter, you'd found ways to satiate the need, even if it was just temporary. You freeze when there's a knock at your door.

You take a breath, notn quite trusting your voice.

"One moment."

Slipping on a spare night dress in a hurry, you open the door.

She's beautiful. Her eyes were low and glossy, and her pupils were blown wide. Her chest rises and falls as the ruffles on the nightdress adorn her body so prettily. What is it she reminds me of? I can't seem to put my finger on it.

"I saved you a plate. Luffy was supposed to come tell you but he sid you didn't respond." I speak, seeing her breathe catch for a second.

Her lips part just a pinch and it finally rings in my head.

A doll.

"Thank you. I'm sorry I couldn't join you sooner, bad attitude still."

I smile, my hand clenched in my pocket. Fuck my palms are sweaty. Shaking my head in response, I panic at the silence that follows. It was just like earlier when we first parted. I wanted to ask her if she was okay. If anything I'd know what a panic attack looks like and with the way her face seemed paler than before, and her hands shook, I couldn't be far off. Or maybe it was just sea sickness. Didn't matter, some things just were my place to ask. But I can't catch the question before it's out my mouth and in the air.

"Are you alright?"

She breathes heavily, shoulder slumping in exhale as she avoids my gaze. There it is. Whatever it was she was either gonna tell me a half-truth or a lie.

"Splendid."

Lie

I nod looking down the hall as if it'd help me escape and prevent any further questions I had from prospering. I was wrong.

"Fancy a drink?"

It's simultaneous and we laugh, so natural and her laugh is damn melodic.

Sanji was without a doubt one of the most talented chefs you'd ever had the pleasure of eating from. The food in front of you was proof of that. You can't help but melt at every bite of the dish before you, it was just so freaking good. Maybe it's cause you haven't had a proper meal in about a day or two as well. Mix that little fact with the wine he keeps pouring and you're done for.

Conversation flows easily, the two of you letting whatever comes to mind simply pass with each moment.

"So, about what he said earlier.." Sanji begins, inhaling from his cigarette as you swallow down the wine you'd just drank.

"The clown or Zoro? Either way, they were right to be cautious. I'm not a threat that's for sure though." You explain.

He hums in response, leaning against his hair with spread legs. Fuck his thighs look good strained against the fabric of his slacks.

"It's been a long time since I've been on a ship. I... I was on one years ago and I traveled to the exact island were going to. Arlong was stationed there and I guess I just never forgot my way back." You explain, tracing the rim of the glass. Not like you had a choice to forget where it was...

"You don't have to explain to me. We've both got trauma, we grow and we get better. You seem to have gotten better." He admits, gaze unwavering.

"Damn, I should be an actress then cause I'm one traumatic event from falling apart." You spoke as he laughs

Sarcastic humor seemed to be his forte and you couldn't help but feed into it, each giggle that slips past your lips creeping its way closer to a full belly laugh. And when he smiles like that, so pretty it makes your chest squeeze. His piercing peeks out just a little, mouth wide with a smile as he tilts his head back.

You sigh, sipping at the wine again, your both a bottle in, the second one nearing its end.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you're spoiling me Sanji." You hum, his smile was still present, blue eyes scanning your frame.

He stands, taking your empty plate before approaching the sink and speakng.

"You think so? Pretty girls shouldn't have to eat alone. Thought you'd like company" He admits, washing the dish, awaiting a response.

You finish off your glass and set it in the sink. He pauses for a moment, realising just how close you were, almost pressed against his back.

"Not a girl blondie." You whisper, the wine definitely sinking into your system if it hadn't before.

He swears, squeezing the sponge and plate. Any harder and it'd shatter.

The veins in his forearms are strained and you let yourgaze linger. As if your thought weren't far from ur at the moment this was only making it worse. You reach around him, just barely missing the curve o his hips.

"What're you-"

"A woman."

You shut the water off, stepping away from him with coy smile

"Thank you for the meal and the wine. It was lovely, Sanji."

He swears again, trying to cove it up with a laugh and another smile. Too late, you can see right past the facade.

"Ah, of course. Get some rest, Y/n"

Safe to say you love how Sanji says your name.

Morning comes quick and docking is quicker. Sanji is carrying the clown head sack this time and he doesn't seem too thrilled about it. You figured it best not to these him cause you could very well end up carrying the damn thing yourself if you didn't find his body. You manage to slip into some extra clothes, considering the ones you were wearing when this little excursion started were thoroughly torn from the fight.

Your shoes weren't practical but they'd have to do for now. A simple cream-colored blouse with a neckline that dipped almost too far down paired with some pants that were almost too tight was what you sported. Until your next docking point, you'd definitely have to make this last and maybe not have it get fucked up in a fight.

Though you didn't know much about this 'Nami' besides her name, you could feel whatever anxiety from the rest of the crew sink into your skin and turn your tummy. No one really spoke. Well, besides Usopp trying to convince everyone that he should go back to the ship.

You try keeping pace, Luffy and Zoro at the front, Sanji in the middle, Usopp and yourself lagging behind. Since he was the only one really talking, it wouldn't hurt to chat back.

"Soooo Nami, you guys know each other long?" You ask, slowing down so that you're side by side.

"No, but it feels like I have. I know she wouldn't do this to us just because. She's not that kind of person." He speaks, eyes solemn. If you were thinking correctly, each one of these 'crew' members, yourself included was picked up from somewhere else.

"I see. How did you end up on this crew anyway?" You ask, opening a door you had no idea about.

Usopp was about to tell you the story of a lifetime.

Authors note: heyyyy everyone here's chapter 4 a little longer than chapter 3. I'm really trying to like build this up before we get to the super 18+ parts but uhhh we got our first little taste lol. As stated before lmk if you'd like to be added to the taglist :D

Taglist: : @waannty @strangermeats @nymeriiia @noom147

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silviakundera · 4 months ago

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Does it feel like they're trying to redeem the dickless bore? idk if he's doing a con on her or they're showing he has real feelings for her wasn't the novel different?

One thing I'm really noticing in the Princess Royal (Grand Princess) adaption is that they will 'play it straight' with characters like Su Rongqing and the Emperor: giving the character similar dialogue and facial expressions as they would have in the novel -- except without PWX or LR's internal dialogue of 🙄 why u lying???

🙄 lol ok sure

😒 oh i see, back on your bullshit again

😤 the AUDACITY

😬 oh shit oh shit danger BE COOL

The consequence is that if you take everything at face value, the Emperor seems like a reasonable guy and not up for The Absolute Worst Dad award. Under the surface, the novel reader knows he is acting out a play and coldly calculating every interaction with Li Rong, the Crown Prince, and Consort Ruo. Every single scene with him, Li Rong is in peril and she knows it. She's pretending to be his sweet, obedient 19 year old daughter who believes in him and is following Pei Wenxuan's direction and acting as a puppet, making moves that he has already approved PWX to make. The Emperor's pretending that this play isn't supposed to end with LR and the Crown Prince taken down & the power transferred into Consort Ruo and the other prince's hands.

The viewer can just interpret all the words coming out of a character's mouth as facts & just believe everything they claim about their motives/real agenda as true. Or they recall the implied horrorshow of Life 1 and view all of these interactions with a cynical eye, questioning what else could be under the surface.

With SRQ, that guy is so fucking complicated. I think actually he's portrayed in character. Nothing we have seen isn't .... him. At least so far, as of ep 19 he aligns with the novel.

But 3 different factors: A) The music is romantizing him; B) The audience is given a couple internal-thought voice overs from him, which other antagonists don't get; C) With those voice-overs, the screenwriter has chosen to affirm his love for his brother and LR way earlier than the reader has it confirmed in the novel (where he is intentionally kept a total mystery for far longer, while the reader is the math lady meme, trying to piece together clues to figure him out).

And ultimately, when in SRQ's PoV in the drama, we have to deal with him being the hero of his own story. He is absolutely sincere about himself and, as has been revealed, in his own way he's sincere about wanting LR and his brother to have a good life this time around.

So does that mean the writer intends to do a swerve in the narrative arc and redeem him in the end? It's totally possible. Maybe?

However, not necessarily.

#1 There is a certain refrain from many of the great cnovel/drama villians: I had no choice! You all forced me to this!

We saw it from Shen Yurong in The Double, we saw it from Meng Yao/JGY in The Untamed, and in the novel (and I presume in the drama), we're gonna see it from Su Rongqing.

And it's the reason why they become villians who can't be saved. Because so many people suffer in life or experience unfairness. But they don't turn around and use this as an excuse to enact horrible cruelties on others.

Out of the billions of people in the world, few have no problems but so many of them actively chose to do good, or are willing at least to turn back and be better.

#2 imo the reason LR has historically been bad at reading people's hearts but has an exquisite read of SRQ, his flaws & darkness, is THAT'S HER FUCKING MOM. And I do think ep 16-18 put that out there in the text, if you're looking for it. He and the empress are the same sophisticated aristocrat who is clever & educated but with a narrow perspective limited by their privilege and desperate need to maintain the status quo. So sorry bro, but no wonder she might have settled for marrying you in the first life if you wanted to, but she was never gonna fall in love with you 💀.

PWX can see that SRQ loves her and he thinks that matters, so it scares him. LR has tender nostalgia for her empress mother and her former companion but she's all too aware that their love for her will not necessarily get in the way of stepping on her to protect the social structure of a powerful aristocracy class operating at a higher level above the peasants and restraining the throne. To them, this is safety and stability that guards the realm.

(ofc both those characters are complex and when it comes to LR's life & death we can't be confident on what they will always choose. that's part of what made all the palace drama aspects of the novel incredibly suspenseful. So many of the suppporting characters are layered and tho everything they do makes sense when it happens, you can't often predict people's hard choices when their back is up against the wall)

Story of Kunning Palace and The Grand Princess say that caring about people and trying your best to understand them, wanting what's best for them by listening to what's best for them, can make a huge difference. But not everyone is willing to change.

#silvia answers asks #cdrama #the grand princess #the princess royal #the princess royal spoilers #one of the fascinating aspects of the grand princess was #is that PWX is imo more consistently sympathetc to SRQ than LR is #because they both love her #and PWX can empathize with that #(btw if u enjoy the kind of narrative where characters frequently misrepresent their feelings and motives)#(like people frequently do in real life)#(and you have to pay attention to their actions and cross-check what they say against a pattern of what they do)#(then i recommend The Vampire Diaries)#(one of my fav aspects of that show)

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welcometothejianghu · 1 year ago

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Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 成化十��年/The Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty

(The) Sleuth of (the) Ming Dynasty (it's hard to get an agreement on how many definite articles should go where) is a beautiful, high-budget 2020 drama about a weenie genius detective, his long-suffering and deeply traumatized sugar daddy, and the eunuch with the most difficult job in the Great Ming: keeping these two dumbasses from getting their fool selves imperially executed.

Depending on how you like it, it's either an OT3 or an OTP with an intense, underage third wheel, and either way, it's delightful. I wouldn't call it a comedy, but it has very many funny elements that keep the drama fun and engaging. The first half is full of shorter mysteries that are clever and thoughtfully plotted, and the second half goes in on the longer mystery that ties them all together.

I've already done my quick guide to the early-episode characters, if you want a taste of just how many people are running around and how wonderful they all are. But in case you want to know a little bit more before you commit yourself to a 48-episode series, here's five reasons I think you should watch it!

1. The whole thing smacks of gender

Yeah, this was originally going to be selling point #2, but I know what the people want.

This is not a show about gender. But boy it is a show that has a lot to say about gender, and not just by way of critiquing premodern Chinese gender roles (though it does do that!). Many of the cis characters are either a) somewhat gender nonconforming, b) canny enough to weaponize binary gender expectations, or c) both. Sui Zhou's entire third-act storyline is about how expectations of masculinity exacerbate PTSD in veterans. Three different AFAB characters either dress or live as men. The part where one of the male characters goes undercover in drag is played for laughs, but the joke isn't 'ha ha, a boy in a dress,' it's 'ha ha, this particular boy in a particular dress, and also he's terrible at it.'

And that's even before we get to the eunuchs.

There are several professionally dickless, permanently unmanned characters running around. One-third of the OT3 canonically had his external genitalia nonconsensually removed when he was five years old, and because of this, he has been given unimaginable authority. He's basically the second most powerful man in the entire empire, and he only gets that way by being unquestionably, ostentatiously, and genuinely submissive to the first most powerful man.

I have seen other Chinese media where eunuchs are treated like sinister clowns, good only to be the bad guys and the butts of jokes. Sleuth's main eunuchs are real and complex characters, and because of this, the show gets to explore what it is to live in this weird third-gender category of incredible power and powerlessness.

Now, don't go into this expecting woke gender treatises. Wang Zhi's never going to sit down and go, "You know, my friend and fellow eunuch Ding Rong, because of my lack of a penis, I understand my relationship to masculinity differently than other men do." But the show understands that even if he doesn't say it, it's true. And that makes a lot of the characters and their relationships just so much more interesting.

2. Uncle Jackie Money

Sleuth was the was the fourth c-drama I dove into, following the Untamed, Word of Honor, and Guardian -- or, Some Money BL, Less Money BL, and No Money BL. So imagine my absolute wall-eyed shock to find this was All The Money BL, courtesy of its executive producer, Jackie Chan (seen here with some of his handsome boys):

Sleuth looks good. The costumes are amazing. The sets are stunning. The cinematography is beautiful. Everything is so detailed, and while I can't speak to the absolute historical accuracy of all those details (see point 3), they're still gorgeous. In fact, you know what? I'm going to shut up and show you some of the promotional images.

(For actual screenshots, I'm just going to point you at @rongzhi's tsomd photoset tag, as they have done a tremendous service to the fan community -- though do beware of spoilers.)

Uncle Jackie's influence doesn't end with the money, though. Even though things get a bit goofy and wirework-y near the end, most of the drama's fights are shows of real martial arts skill. You can see his fingerprints on a lot of the choreography -- I'm thinking particularly of the time Tang Fan tries (and fails!) to stab Sui Zhou three times, which is pure Jackie Chan high-speed dexterity.

Add this one to the category of shows your Average American Television Enjoyer Who Can Handle Subtitles would like. In fact, I have shown the first episode to my normie father-in-law, who was impressed. Show it to your dad! See if he picks up on the gay!

3. I am from ... HISTORY!

The Chinese title translates to "The 14th Year of Chenghua," which works out to the year 1478. There are some clear anachronisms, but they tend to be played for comedy, so it's hard to hold that against them. On the whole, though, the show is trying real hard to evoke a very specific moment, and I feel it does so beautifully.

This does, however, mean that several of the characters are real people. I don't even have a good sense of how many of them are based on historical figures, that's how many. Hilariously, Wang Zhi's tag on AO3 used to read "Wang Zhi (?-1487 CE)."

Moreover, these are characters I've seen pop up in other media, played very differently! In particular, Noble Consort (up there in blue) tends to be written as an uncomplicated villain elsewhere, whereas Sleuth gives her a chance to add some goodness to her badness, until, damn, you can't but root for the bitch. (It also downplays the cradle-robbing, which, honestly, is for the best.)

You may have guessed from the eunuch section earlier, but it bears repeating: Wang Zhi is straight-up the best character in the show. He's smart as hell, and he has to be, because the second he's stupid, he's dead. I actually consider it helpful to know ahead of time that he's never going to do a heel turn -- I feel like on my first watchthrough, I was holding my breath for the first two-thirds of the show, waiting for his sudden but inevitable betrayal. It does not come. Wang Zhi is one of the heroes.

He's also, like, evil. He orders people flogged, tortured, and executed. The very first thing you see him doing is sinister as hell. And the show clearly doesn't think this is good, but it also doesn't judge him for it. He's a traumatized seventeen-year-old who has not had a normal moment of his entire life. He's working thanklessly for a boss who could kill him on a whim -- and he's doing it because he literally, physically was made for his job. He's mildly freaking out because he has no emotional grounding to help him understand that these weirdos want to be his friends.

Was the real Wang Zhi like this? That's beside the point. The point is, you get to see how someone in that position could wind up as the war-crimes-committing platonic ideal of a little meow meow.

4. oh my god the food

Warning: This show will make you hungry.

Again, beware of spoilers, but @peppersandcreamsicle and @qinzai have put together an entire cook-along Google Doc so you don't just have to drool -- you can do something about it! Or you can just read it and learn about Chinese cuisine, which is a little more my speed.

But it's not just about how good the food looks. Food is a vital emotional part of the series. People bond over it. They make and share it as a sign of love and care. It indicates status, ethnicity, interest, personality. The show's message about the healing power of cooking for the people you love will bring you to tears.

And yes, Sui Zhou is the main one doing the cooking, so get ready to drool over both the dishes and the handsome man preparing them.

Oh, and as though that weren't enough, Fu Meng Po can actually cook in real life. He's so dreamy. Absolute unreal handsome man with a devastatingly sexy voice. (I know my opinion might be different if I could hear his Taiwanese accent, but I can't so it's not!)

5. An Unsunk Ship

So like I said, my intros to c-drama couples had been WangXian, WenZhou, and WeiLan. That meant I'd basically come to terms with the idea that you can't have a main couple in a BL-but-not-really drama without splitting them up at least a little in the end, for no-homo plausible deniability reasons.

Tang Fan and Sui Zhou are still definitvely, unequivocally together when the story ends, as the iconic pentultimate scene of the series confirms with beauty and simplicity. I refuse to give any more details than that, but that ship's afloat.

(These shirtless pictures aren't from the end, but I wanted to include them, and I didn't have a better place to do it. ...Also, you know, ships and water? Yeah?)

And I think their winding up together reflects Sleuth's entire attitude. Tang Fan is made of sunshine, and the series loves him for it. There is tragedy aplenty in this show, but there's no misery. It is ultimately a hopeful show that believes in the power of second chances, if you're willing to take them. Time and again, the moral of the story is that you are only ever as good as the people who have your back -- but you have to be willing to let them have your back. Let people help you. Let people cook for you. Let people give you a reason to keep living. And then keep living.

Also, Sui Zhou gets two good kabedons off on that little twink, which means they're legally married now. I don't make the rules.

Bonus: Banger opening theme

youtube

This is one you will watch all 48 times.

Bonus #2: The Halo Video

youtube

This is the video that made me go, huh, these Sleuth boys seem like other boys I've enjoyed! Perhaps I shall enjoy them as well! And then I did. So if that might be convincing to you too, well, have at it. Even if it isn't, it's a fascinating three-minute study of shared those-boys-are-in-love visual language across these shows.

Fair warning that it contains shots from right up to the end, so if you'd rather go in completely blank, give this one a pass until later. (Excuse me while I now go watch it for the 10000th time.)

Have I convinced you to watch it yet?

It originally ran on iQiyi, though Viki's got it as well, and Viki's is free if you're willing to put up with some ads about it.

...I just noticed iQiyi's description of the series reads, "When the two handsome leading actors Darren Wang and Fu Meng-Po work together, what will happen? A lovely prefectural judge and an arrogant embroiered [sic] uniform guard join hands to crack unusual cases! Are you going to choose a new idol?" And you know what? Yes. The details are a little off, but that is the correct spirit. Thank you, thirsty blurb.

#sleuth of the ming dynasty #the sleuth of ming dynasty #tsomd #成化十四年 #sloof #i made this #rec post

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myveryownfanfiction · 3 months ago

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18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen

warnings: ray gets hurt, swearing

I heard the ecto and raced to get the doors open. Janine was right behind me, flattening ourselves against the wall as she pulled in. We high fived and cheered as we saw the police presence behind them. Egon scrambled out of the car behind Winston. Peter and ray climbed out. I ran towards ray and hugged him.

“oh thank god.” I whispered as he buried his head in my shoulder. “When we heard you’d been arrested…”

“Yeah I know.” Ray said. “But what are you two doing here? It’s not safe. The containment unit blew.” I held him tighter.

“but the phones have been ringing off the hook.” Janine explained. “Someone had to let them know you boys would be on your way.” I looked over and saw egon cup her cheek. I smiled softly and nudged ray who pulled away. As he turned to look, my eyebrows shot up.

“ray?” I said quietly. He hummed before turning back to look at me. I reached up to touch his cheek. “What happened to your eye?” Ray looked at me confused for a second.

“oh. You weren’t here for that.” He said as I dragged him up the stairs. “Hey. Im fine. I have to get dressed…” I stopped and cupped his cheeks, kissing him softly. Ray went slack as he returned the kiss. He stared at me as I pulled away.

“ray…” I whispered, my thumb skirting the edge of the bruise that was forming. “Please.” He nodded and let me finish pulling him up the stairs. Neither of us were aware of the looks we were getting. Ray sat on the edge of his bed while I went to the bathroom to get the first aid kit.

“it’s not even that bad (Y/N).” Ray called as I came back in the room. “I’ll be fine. It’s just a little black eye.”

“ray have you seen yourself?” I asked. He shook his head. Ray moved his legs apart as I came to stand between them. I pulled out the mirror and held it up for him.

“oh.” Ray reached up to touch his eye. “I didn’t realize…”

“what happened?” I asked. Ray put the mirror on the bed and looked up at me.

“when egon went after peck, we tried to hold him back.” Ray shrugged. “He’s not a cop but I mean it’s egon. He loses it he loses it you know? And we didn’t want him to get in anymore trouble than we already were. When I grabbed his shoulder, egon must have been pulling back to hit the dickless prick. Got me instead.” I nodded as I looked over the darkening bruise. “Honestly I didn’t even realize he’d hit me. No one mentioned it until you. I thought the area was a little tender but I didn’t even think…” ray broke off with another shrug.

“oh ray.” I whispered as I grabbed some ointment and rubbed it on his cheekbone. “There’s a small cut. Must have come from a button or something.” Ray nodded as I straddled his lap. “Not much else I can do.” He nodded again, hands coming up to steady me.

“you’ve done enough.” He promised. Kissing me softly, ray held me to him. “You noticed and took care of me.” I nodded again and hugged him tightly. “It’s coming from Dana’s apartment. We’re going to have to go up.”

“up?” I asked, pulling back to look at ray. He nodded.

“to the top. Egon and I figured it out from the blueprints. Whatever it is is big. And it’s coming tonight. We have to stop it.” He explained. I cupped his cheeks.

“ray…” I breathed out. He nodded and kissed me.

“I know.” He breathed out. “I know.”

“come back to me. Just promise me that.” I whispered, gently touching his lips. Ray kissed my fingertips and nodded, looking up at me with shining eyes.

“I promise.” He said. “I’ll come back to you.” I kissed him deeply before letting him get up. I watched him head to the bedroom door.

“you better Raymond stantz.” He smiled softly at me before running back downstairs to grab a new flightsuit and head out.

#Ray stantz #ray stantz x reader #ray stantz fanfic #ray stantz fanfiction #ray stantz imagine #dan aykroyd #dan aykroyd x reader #dan aykroyd fanfic #dan aykroyd fanfiction #dan aykroyd imagine

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feministfang · 2 months ago

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Got news from my secret spy friend about some troons/trannies/trans-imposters taking screenshots of my blogs where i am hating on brown/south asian men and posting them with captions where they’re calling me a racist.

Are u sure it’s the racism you are crying about or are my transphobic posts burning your ass?? Or is it something to do with the effects of castration on your dickless male bodies?? Missing that trashy thing already????

You clowns couldn’t even bring down the most powerful and successful JK ROWLING👑 with your racism-card and think that tactic will work on others. That woman did not give up on her beliefs and neither will I. No amount of gaslighting will work on me cause i don’t mind being an evil person. Cope and cry!

Last thing, if you are offended by my anti-south asian moids posts, you should definitely see how i treat them irl. Tumblr blogs are just the trailer 🤣

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hollaback--girl · 7 months ago

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una más y no jodemos más

third part of incorrect quotes of ghostbusters :)

•

Trevor: You have Crayons?

Podcast: Yes, I have—

Trevor: You're— how old are you?

Podcast: YES I AM A GROWN BOY AND I HAVE CRAYONS, I HAVE A BOX OF EMERGENCY CRAYONS IN THE CABINET UNDER THE TV BECAUSE EVERYBODY NEEDS CRAYONS SOMETIMES, OKAY? EVERYBODY NEEDS CRAYONS.

•

Dickless: You think you're smarter than everyone else.

Phoebe: I don't think I'm smarter than everyone else. I know I am.

•

Trevor, learning how to drive: What happens if I press the gas and the brake at the same time?

Gary: The car takes a screenshot.

Callie: Please pull over. I’m driving now.

•

Melody: Hi, who's this? Trevor changed all of my contacts to mythical creatures.

Phoebe: What's mine?

Melody: Dwarf.

Phoebe: HE'S SO MEAN, I'M NOT THAT SHORT!

Melody: Oh, hey Phoebe.

Phoebe: FUCK!

•

Callie: You're alive.

Phoebe: There's no need to sound so disappointed.

•

Podcast: If you water water, it grows.

Lucky: ...What.

Trevor: He's got a point.

•

Gary: Say no to drugs.

Lucky: Say yes to drugs.

Callie: It doesn't matter if you say yes or no to drugs. If you're talking to drugs.. then you're on drugs.

•

Lucky: Yeah, a partner sounds nice, but a supreme enemy you can make out with in secret sometimes sounds a lot more hardcore.

•

Phoebe: Accidentally indulged in too much ‘free time’, turns out I’ve been reported missing for over six months and presumed dead by most local and national authorities.

•

Melody: Don't joke about murder. I was murdered once and it offends me.

•

Podcast: *watching his house burn down*

Podcast:

Podcast: *starts filming* Waddup, guys, welcome to my vlog, today's topic: how to get away with accidentally committing arson because you forgot Spaghetti O's cans are metal and thus non-microwavable! Step one: deny everything.

•

Trevor: Guys, there’s a monster under my bed and it’s really ugly.

Melody, on the bottom bunk: Honestly, fuck you.

•

*During a game of Hangman*

Phoebe: Nope, there’s no Q. You lose.

Trevor: Are you kidding me?! You can still add something!

Phoebe: I already added a belt, four earrings and an extra arm! YOU LOSE!

•

Melody: Ugh, crushes are so dumb.

Phoebe: I know. Whenever I’m near the person I like I just start acting stupid.

Melody: But you’re always acting stupid?

Phoebe: ...

Phoebe: Yeah, don’t think about that too hard.

•

Podcast: If you took a shot for every time you made a bad decision, how drunk would you be?

Gary: Maybe a bit tipsy?

Trevor: Drunk.

Phoebe: Wasted.

Callie: Dead.

#ghostbusters #phoebe spengler #ghostbusters afterlife #ghostbusters frozen empire #melody ghostbusters #podcast ghostbusters #pheobe spengler #trevor spengler #callie spengler #gary grooberson #incorrect quotes

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qdkdraws · 5 months ago

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tell the people about the dickless adam au. any of the ones where i removed his penis. there are three now.

I will NOT describe the succubus AU, do it yourself;

People here already know about hot snek woman AU

The AU droid is my fault, so it doesn't count.

I don't remember anymore.

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ladylilithprime · 30 days ago

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Day 15: Sigils

(Inspired by Somebody Else's Thanksgiving by @posingasme .)

WHEN THE CALL came in from Castiel to meet him at an old abandoned property, Dean almost went alone. With the way he and Sam had seemed to be working weirdly at cross-purposes despite supposedly being on the same page, it was only Castiel's sharp insistence that had him calling for Sam to join him. The way Sam looked at him, like he knew Dean had wanted to leave him behind and was simultaneously resentful and resigned to it made guilt churn in Dean's gut harshly. He shoved it down and waited impatiently for Sam to slide into the Impala's passenger seat before gunning the engine and driving them out to the old shack.

There were two bodies outside, the ground blackened with the shadows of huge wings seared into the ground. Sam made a sound in his throat like a keen that was partway to gagging, and took off for the shack at a run, leaving Dean to curse and follow.

"Cas!" Sam shouted as he flung the door open. "Castiel!"

"I'm here, Sam," the now-familiar gravelly voice answered. The angel stood motionless inside a circle of fire just inside the main room, the walls of the shack painted with bloody sigils, many of which Dean recognized from Bobby's panic room. "Don't break the sigils or the circle of holy fire. It's the only thing keeping them from being able to summon me."

"Who?" Dean demanded, when Sam only swallowed and nodded. "Summon you where?"

"Back to Heaven," came the disquieting answer. "The Archangels don't want you learning what I have to tell you."

"The bodies outside...." Sam started, then stopped, shuddering.

"Angels," Castiel confirmed gravely. "Sent to bring me in. I regret killing them, but I could not let them prevent me from speaking to you. Dean, Sam... Heaven wants the Apocalypse to happen."

"Oh, no," Sam whispered, barely audible around the roaring in Dean's ears.

He wasn't nearly so restrained.

"What the fuck?!" he shouted. "What, so all that running around and saving Seals, was that actually just moving everything along faster?!"

"More an attempt at misdirection and manipulation," Castiel said, shattering Dean's world further. "Only the First and Final Seals are immutable, and with six hundred and sixty-six Seals, only sixty-six of which actually needing to be broken, the Archangels felt it best to direct you to try and save a handful of simple Seals so that you would miss the demons and other angels breaking others elsewhere. The First Seal, you already know. The Final Seal is the death of the First Demon in a desecrated convent in Ilchester."

"The death of the First Demon meaning Lilith," Sam whispered in horror. "Oh, God... Lilith would've led us a merry chase until letting us catch up just in time to kill her and break the Seal...."

"Let you catch up, Sam," Castiel corrected with surprising gentleness. "Two brothers, two immutable Seals... two prophecied Vessels for the Apocalypse. While you would have been led to Lilith, Dean would have been sequestered away to await the appointed time to agree to be Michael's Vessel--"

"Leaving me alone and in position to be taken as Lucifer's after Lilith tricked me into letting him out," Sam finished woodenly.

"Like hell're those dickless asshats getting anywhere near me, or Sammy!" Dean growled, finding his voice and trying not to feel that stab of guilt at the surprise that crossed Sam's face at his vehemence. "So how do we derail things?"

"I don't know," Castiel admitted, spreading his hands in supplication when Dean glared at him. "Truly, I don't. Angels are created to serve and follow orders, and free thought and feeling is considered an aberration. Even with these defects, I am not suited to creative thinking the way humans are. The best idea I could think of was to give you two all the information and hope you could think of an option I couldn't."

Silence reigned for a long moment as Dean processed that while Sam stared off into the distant space between molecules or whatever it was he was looking at when he did that. The only sound besides his and Sam's breathing was the low roar of the ring of fire that was apparently important enough to Castiel to have burning that he would say not to distupt it even though it looked like he could barely move.

"What happens if they can't take us?" Sam asked after a long moment. "Michael and Lucifer. They're Archangels, and Lucifer is Fallen, but they're still angels. They have to get our permission first. So what happens if we say no?"

"I don't know," Castiel admitted. "That is not something anyone in Heaven or Hell believes will happen, as neither will care overly much how they gain your consent so long as they do gain it. I suspect that Michael might become impatient enough to raise your half-brother Adam for the purpose as an imperfect back-up, but you have no such half-siblings by your mother for Lucifer to take."

"So it's just me that needs to be taken out of play," Sam murmured, sending a chill down Dean's spine.

"Sammy," he said warningly.

"You know it's true, Dean," Sam said, sounding so fucking young and weary all at once. "Michael's got a back-up if he can't force you to agree, but I'm Lucifer's only option. If we can take me out before Lilith is ready to make her move--"

"Then the Archangels would simply resurrect you after wiping this conversation from your memory," Castiel broke in sharply. "Sam, I implore you, do not be so quick to give up your life on a slim hope!"

"What he said," Dean huffed grudgingly. "I went to Hell once to keep you alive, little brother, don't think I won't do it again!"

"Don't think I'll let you," Sam snapped back. "And I'm not talking about me dying. Not exactly. But I may have an idea. I just don't know how much Castiel is gonna like it, and I know you aren't gonna like it. At least I know I'll be able to stomach the taste."

"I don't have to like it if it keeps you alive and out of the Devil's clutches," Dean said, staring his brother down. "I learned a long time ago that the only order of Dad's I can't follow is to let you die. Ever. So lay it on me."

"It's risky," Sam warned. "And kinda crazy."

"Crazy's kinda what we do these days," Dean pointed out with a sweeping gesture towards the sigil-marked walls, trapped angel, and the entire damn Apocalypse mess beyond.

"Okay, then," Sam nodded slowly. "Do you still have Lenore's number?"

#rk writes #suptober24 #supernatural fic #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #sastiel if you squint #this is at least partially posing's fault

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ranbling · 1 month ago

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My first thoughts about s8ep3 of 911

Athena is badass

Maddie is soo done with Bobby and Buck

Jem is here!!!

Also, this episode is not helping with my fear of flying

Bobby and Athena:(

Ooh Buck is commandering that motorcyccle

Everybody is just like "where the fuck is that plane going??"

"This is real" is not as reassuring as Athena thinks it is

I love how no one at the dispatch is actually doing ther job, just watching TV

Buck doing traffic control with just too stick is iconic

Brad just realised Bobby is crazy

It's only been 14 minutes, I fear something big is gonna happen

Jem, don't panic now!!

I'm gonna be honest, maybe they should have closed done a bigger section of the highway, this was too close

The plane has sucessfully landed, but there is still like 20 minutes left.... I'm anxious

Brad is having the time of his life

... Or not

Okay, well I should have expected the explosion

Buck keeps forgetting that the truck is not real and I am here for it

Ooh sketchy I don't know what guys

Bobby is truly a ride or die

This show sure likes to make the bad guys dickless

The rhytm on that life monitor looked kinda.... wrong

Why is Gerrard already back yet??? Like, I hoped he'll be gona totally, but he should be resting with an injury like that

#911 abc #911 spoilers

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faiirytalcs · 1 year ago

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location: evermore park ⛄️ @evermorehqsstart

When one had a day off, the possibilities were endless and today, Phil had decided after his run to stop off in the park and make use of all the snow. There was some kind of snowman making competition but he hardly paid attention to that - in his head, he'd already won, no one could beat his masterpiece. "Alright, question and take this super seriously." Phil started, looking over at a passerby, completely unaware if they were going somewhere important or even had time to indulge him. "Is his package too much?" His snowman was a little more anatomically correct than others but in Phil's defense, it would have been so sad to leave him dickless. Plus, it was funny.

#𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 ;; phillip deville #𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 ;; open #evermorehqstarter #𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 ;; phillip deville #usfwish #;;i apologize for him #𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 ;; phillip deville

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inevitablemoment · 8 months ago

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My Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire Experience

First, I just want to say.... HOLY CRAP, I had so much fun! I have waited for this movie for so long, and while there are a few things that I were waiting for that didn't happen, it still lived up to the hype.

Spoilers under the cut.

So, my parents and I saw this in an MXC theater at our local Marquee. The seats were recliners that went back and forth with a button, and I loved that. But the sound system was... very loud. Let's just say, it's like if an audio version of 3D and THX had a baby. It was cool, but I didn't like that. And there were a lot more room in the aisles than their standard theaters.

The previews were surprisingly short, which was a relief. I have been waiting for this movie for MONTHS!

So, first, THAT CHASE SCENE AT THE BEGINNING!

It's no secret how much I love Callie, and seeing her as a Ghostbuster makes me so happy.

When Phoebe called her mother "Callie," my heart dropped a little and I just knew that we were in for a rocky ride.

Hearing that familiar staccato motif just put a smile on my face... which then turned into tears when Egon was mentioned.

But knowing that the music video for the title song is in-canon as well is fucking hilarious.

Ah, Dickless. I did NOT miss you.

Also, how did Peck get elected mayor? He is probably the most unlikable character in the Ghostbusters universe. But then again, a certain someone involved in many legal battles was elected President, so why should I question it?

I LOVE the domesticity of the firehouse scene; dinner, movie night, laundry, all the background.

Also, there's something hot about Callie wearing her flightsuit as pants with the top half tied up.

"GHOST DOG!"

"We both got some action." "Yeah, we did." Okay, already, this film has solidified my love for Callie and Gary as a couple. I am soft for them.

Gary trying to be tough and then apologizing instantly.

Callie Spengler laughs and it cleared my acne.

I know that they're trying to stop the containment unit from blowing, but PHYSICAL CONTACT!

Also, Callie is surprisingly BUFF. Can she hold me, please?

RAY STANTZ, MY SWEET BOY!

He's all but adopted Podcast, he just needs the paperwork.

"The hammer gets the views."

Honestly, I think the Stay-Puft company should just go defunct, with all of the paranormal shit.

JANINE, MY GIRL! SHE'S BACK!

Callie lounging on the couch, scrolling through her phone while sipping a drink is a whole ass mood.

Poor Trevor... but goddamn, it's still as funny now as it was forty years ago.

That longing look on Ray's face as the Ecto passed by the shop...

I did not have "Phoebe Spengler likes girls" on my bingo card for this movie, but... I love it.

Part 2 will be coming soon. I just don't think that I can fit in everything that I loved about this movie into one post.

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seths-rogens · 1 year ago

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If I Was Any Closer, I Could Be Lost | E | 8.2k

"I want you to be my best man." Steve is watching him with a bright smile, and all of a sudden Eddie feels like the worst person in the world.

He should say no. He's going to say no.

"Of course I'll be your best man, Stevie. I'd be honoured."

Shit. Fuck. No. He didn't mean to do that.

Eddie is utterly, completely, absolutely, fucking screwed.

Or, Steve is getting married to someone else, and Eddie, desperately in love, watches it happen.

taglist: @judasofsuburbia @gothbat99 @flowercrowngods @cheatghost @fastcardotmp3 @simplebtromance @gonzofromspace @i-less-than-three-you @potato-of-the-lord

—————

fic under the cut, or read on ao3!

"I want you to be my best man." Steve is watching him with a bright smile, and all of a sudden Eddie feels like the worst person in the world.

He has to say no. Needs to. There's no way he's surviving a front row seat to Steve Harrington's goddamn wedding.

"What?"

They're at their favourite bar, where Steve and Robin used to work back when they first moved to Indy, sitting in their usual booth in the back corner, right by the bust up jukebox. There's some sports game playing on the TV behind the bar, not basketball or baseball because Steve hasn't glanced over once. Or maybe he's already seen it.

There's a hole in the wall next to the dartboard after a drunken Nancy misjudged her own strength in throwing her dart. There's a drink on the menu named after Argyle (because he sold the owner some of his fancy Californian weed). S & E is carved into the underside of the table they're sitting at - the product of one of Steve's solo closing shifts, a visit from Eddie, and a whole bottle of tequila.

There's a lot of memories in this place. Fitting they would have this conversation here.

"Be my best man, dude." Steve's still smiling. God, he's so pretty.

"What about Robin?"

"Stacey already offered her a place as a bridesmaid. You know how well they get along." Steve's smile turns fond at the thought of his fiancee and best friend's blossoming friendship.

Eddie wonders how the hell he ended up in this situation. How he became close enough with 'King Steve' that he's invited to his wedding, let alone being offered one of the most important roles in it.

They'd grown close after Spring '86. Of course they had, facing down a grotesque, dickless fuckwad who had nothing better to do than further traumatise and kill several teenagers by way of crumpling them up like an empty coke can worked as a real bonding moment.

Plus there was the shared stint in the hospital. Playing chew toy to several hundred alternate dimension demon bats will take a lot out of you, so it seemed. Not to mention the road rash on Steve's back and how all his wounds very nearly ended up infected.

Eddie still thinks it's a miracle he managed to keep going and reassure everyone he was fine. But that's only because he knows he himself acted like a little bitch about it.

So they became friends. First, it was sharing a hospital room, then it was Steve summoning the mighty power of his absent parents to get him off scot-free for an unjust murder accusation.

Then it was late night phone calls when neither of them could sleep, whispering their fears and nightmares down the phoneline to one of the few people who could really, truly understand. Then it became late night drives to the quarry, then a shared joint on Eddie's front porch, until eventually, they were sharing a bed.

Eddie couldn't help falling in love along the way. He really tried not to. But Steve was... well, he was Steve. Selfless and bitchy and just plain good.

Eddie was doomed from the start.

But Eddie never said anything. Couldn't ruin one of his closest friendships with feelings. It's been seven years since Vecna. Steve turned 26 barely two months ago and now he's getting married to a girl he's been dating a little under a year.

And the worst part, Eddie thinks, is that they're perfect for one another.

If any girl would be the one to finally make Steve Harrington an honest man, it would be Stacey Baker. She was tall and slim, with curves in - Eddie assumes - all the right places. Her hair was so long it almost brushed her waist and a shade of blonde most people would only achieve with an $80 salon appointment. She had cheekbones so sharp they could cut, but her face was softened by the beginnings of smile lines around her mouth and the corners of her eyes.

Eddie was used to seeing her in comfy sweaters and t-shirts stolen from Steve's dresser, but on the few occasions he'd seen her dressed up, she'd been stunning.

He can't imagine how she'll look in a wedding dress.

Together Steve and Stacey looked like the poster couple for 'American family values' and Eddie hated it. But he couldn't hate her.

He had wanted to, really wanted to, when Steve first mentioned her, but it only took one meeting to understand why he liked her so much.

Stacey was a breath of fresh air after a storm. Always smiling, always ready to help.

She kept track of Steve's medication and reminded him to put in his hearing aids. She loved him in spite of the scars she would never know the stories behind. She didn't mind the almost codependent friendships Steve had with Robin and Eddie. Didn't mind when he'd get out of bed at 3 am to go make sure Dustin was asleep at home.

And Steve... Well, everyone knows Steve falls fast.

"She's even letting her wear a suit."

Eddie blinks back to himself. "Sorry?"

"Stacey. She's letting Robin wear a suit." Steve shrugs. "Says as long as it fits the colour scheme then it's fine."

"That's great." Eddie picks up his beer, takes a long pull.

"So, will you do it?"

He should say no. He's going to say no.

"Of course I'll be your best man, Stevie. I'd be honoured."

Shit. Fuck. No. He didn't mean to do that.

Eddie is utterly, completely, absolutely, fucking screwed.

Four and a half months later sees Eddie in a hotel room he never would've shelled out for, clenching his fists instead of reaching for the overpriced mini bar and watching Steve attempt to tie his tie in the mirror.

It's lilac, and the suit is a heather grey. Just like Eddie's.

It makes him look even prettier.

Steve fumbles with the tie. "Do you need a hand with that?" Eddie asks, holding back a smirk.

Steve groans. "Yeah. I thought I had it."

Eddie pushes himself up as Steve turns to face him. He takes the ends of the tie in gentle hands and begins to wrap it around itself.

"You nervous?" Eddie focuses on what his hands are doing, instead of doing something stupid like gazing deeply into Steve's stupid gorgeous eyes.

"A little, sure." Steve shrugs, holding his head high so Eddie has the space to work.

“I mean, fuck, man.” Eddie huffs a laugh. “You’re 26 and you’re getting married. That’s insane.”

“Is it? My mom was married to my dad at 18.”

Eddie nods, taking his time because he’s certain this is the last time he’ll ever be close to Steve, to be allowed to linger. “Sure, but with everything we’ve been through. A wedding seems weirdly abnormal. Especially considering our track record.”

Steve frowns. “Abnormal?”

“Yeah. You know, unusual, unorthodox, out of the ordinary.” He tucks the tie through itself.

Steve shakes his head. “No, I know what it means, man, just… are you not, like, happy for me?”

Eddie straightens the tie out, rests his palms just beneath Steve’s shoulders on his chest. “I’m happy for you.”

“You don’t seem like it.” Steve ducks his head. “You’ve been in a bad mood all day and I can’t help but think it’s my fault somehow. Have I done something?”

Eddie’s eyes are wide with the fear that he’s been figured out. “No!” He says, perhaps too quickly. “No, it’s not you. I’ve just got shit going on, y’know? It’s been on my mind.”

Steve’s face doesn’t brighten any.

“Look, how about I promise that for the rest of the day, I’ll be the most cheerful, upbeat version of myself you’ve ever seen.”

A small smile graces Steve’s lips. “And no ranting about metal music and scaring Stacey’s relatives?”

Eddie groans. “Why not?”

Steve gives him a look.

“Ugh, fine. I promise.”

Steve smiles and Eddie’s heart soars. “Good.”

Tie lying flat against his chest, Steve turns back to the mirror, straightening out his suit jacket and fiddling with the buttons. “Do I look okay?”

Eddie looks over his shoulder at the two of them standing together in the mirror. His heart clenches in his chest. “Just as pretty as usual, Harrington. You might even show up the bride.”

Steve chuckles softly, ducking his head with a pretty blush. Eddie wants to feel it under his palm. "Oh, I doubt that."

"Don't sell yourself short. You clean up nice." He bit back what he really wanted to say. You look more beautiful every time I see you. God, you look good in a suit but I want nothing more than to tear it off you. Run away with me.

Steve gave Eddie a once over, from the too polished shine of his shoes to the way he'd pinned his hair up. "You too, Munson."

Steve winks and stalks out of the room. Eddie barely represses a shiver.

It seems like no time at all before they're standing at the altar. Steve holds himself with excited tension. Eddie stands at his side, hands clenched into fists behind his back, Dustin and Lucas beside him.

The bridal march plays over the church's old organ and the bridesmaids start their walk down the aisle. Max and El - bridesmaids at Steve's request - walk together arm in arm. Their lilac dresses are similar but different all the same, fitting to their personalities. Max's cane is wrapped in purple ribbon.

Robin follows, her suit the same shade as the dresses, but tailored to perfection. Her shirt is grey silk and her bow tie matches Steve's own tie.

She squeals as she reaches the altar, pulling Steve into a crushing hug. He buries his head in her neck with a laugh. She meets Eddie's eye over Steve's shoulder and gives him a capital L Look. Eddie ducks away from her gaze.

A few of Stacey's own friends follow after, taking their places at the altar, and then it's time.

Stacey looks stunning in a simple white gown. It drapes almost casually over her shoulders and tapers in at her waist. Her blonde hair sits atop her head in a complicated updo. Steve smiles fondly as she begins to walk towards him.

Everyone watches her. Eddie watches Steve.

The service passes in a haze, the way Steve fumbles reading his vows from a piece of paper gaining 'awws' from the congregation. More than once Eddie feels Robin's eyes on him. He ignores her.

The priest asks if anyone objects to their union. Eddie bites his tongue so hard it bleeds.

Too soon, they're saying "I do" and Eddie holds back tears.

Having to pose in wedding photos is a new kind of torture. To stand so close to Steve and know that he'll never be Eddie's. That he'll probably move far away, start a family, and start vacationing at all the country's questionable tourist traps - after all Steve always wanted six kids and a Winnebago. And Eddie won't be a part of any of it, just a distant memory that Steve will desperately try to forget. A stranger in his goddamn wedding photos.

He'll look at them 50 years down the line and not be able to remember Eddie's name.

It hits him hard at the reception. They're in a nice hotel, an old, rustic building on the outskirts of Muncie, the room they're in is decorated with twinkling fairy lights and flowery centrepieces.

Eddie sits pride of place next to Steve at the head table, Stacey's dad having just finished his speech. Steve is blushing, holding Stacey's hand in a tight grip as she dabs her tears away with a handkerchief.

It's Eddie's turn next. He'd rather go for round two with the demobats.

Steve pats his shoulder as he stands up, accepting the microphone from the hostess.

"What can I say about Steve Harrington?" Eddie plasters on a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "This man saved my life, quite literally, on more than one occasion. He held me together, carried me on his back and gave me the blood from his body all out of a kindness I wasn't sure I deserved."

Eddie pauses, taking a breath. "Most best man speeches I've heard fall more on the funny side, and I'm sure that's what Stevie here was expecting." He smiles, resting his hand on Steve's shoulder.

He risks a glance, Steve is gazing up at him with fond eyes and a wide smile. Eddie looks away quickly, staring out at the wedding guests.

"But, though it may be out of character, I felt that a little sincerity would go a long way." He takes a breath. "The man sitting right next to me is the only reason I'm standing here today. We've been through hell together, and even have the matching scars to prove it." He hears Steve huff a laugh. "I want nothing but the best for him, and that comes in the form of Stacey, his absolutely stunning bride." He smiles over at Stacey, she flushes, a shy smile gracing her face.

"I've never seen someone understand Steve so well that they almost have Robin beat," Robin whoops from her seat a little ways away, Steve laughs. "I mean, I thought I came close, but it's nothing compared to Stacey. She loves him fully and unconditionally, and I hope they have that for the rest of their lives. Hell, I hope I have a relationship even half as loving as theirs one day."

Eddie raises his glass. "To the bride and groom."

The rest of the wedding guests chorus his words back at him, sipping from their flutes of champagne in toast. Eddie retakes his seat and not a moment later, Steve's hand finds his knee. He squeezes and leans in close to Eddie's ear. "Thanks, man. That was beautiful."

"It was nothing." He says. It was everything, he thinks.

Steve has already been roped into a conversation with Stacey's dad, and Robin is tugging Stacey over to the buffet. Dustin, Mike and Will are comparing outfits while El and Erica gossip across the table. Lucas and Max are leaned in close, heads pressed together and hands tangled on the table between them.

Here, surrounded by friends, by family, Eddie feels utterly and completely alone.

The festivities ramp up after that. The happy couple has their first dance to ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’ - cheesy pick, Eddie thinks, but he can’t deny that it springs a year to his eye.

It fades into ‘Dancing in the Dark’ and Steve gains a little bounce in his step. He tugs Dustin and Robin up and spins them both round as Stacey’s little niece runs up to her with open arms. She bounces her against her hip to the music.

Everyone is smiling, warm bright grins that take up their whole faces and light up sparks in their eyes. Eddie thinks he should probably be smiling too, but he can’t help the coiling out of anxiety that spits in his stomach.

He lets Erica drag him up for a dance or too, and they swing each other round to The Human League and The B-52’s, but he bows out as Steve grabs Stacey’s hands to spin her around to Wham!’s Everything She Wants, mouthing the lyrics with a grin on his face.

Eddie grabs two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter and seats himself at a nearby table. He downs the first and holds the second in his hand, swirling the sparkling liquid in slow circles and staring into the little whirlpool it creates. This isn’t his first drink, it’s maybe his fourth or fifth, and he can feel it starting to hit him now, a fuzzy warmth settling over his eyes and in his head. He gives into it like he usually wouldn’t. Figures why not if he’s watching the love of his life dance with the love of his own.

He sits there, watching these people, this family, dance and have fun without him and thinks, they would be okay without me. They don’t need me.

A few songs pass but Eddie doesn’t realise, just keeps staring into the glass. There’s only a drop or two left now, when did that happen?

He’s startled back to the present when a hand enters his field of vision.

A couple scars on the knuckles, one finger slightly too crooked, a wedding band. Eddie looks up and finds Steve smiling softly.

Eddie smiles back, holds back wine drunk tears and grabs his hand. Steve tugs him up and onto the dance floor. Eddie represses a shudder when Steve guides his hands to his waist, and wraps his own around Eddie’s shoulders.

Eddie’s eyes are wide as he stares up at Steve in shock. What’s Stacey going to say about this? He risks a glance but Stacey is preoccupied slow dancing with Robin. They’re giggling about something. Eddie flexes his fingers, clenches his hands in the fabric of Steve’s rented suit jacket.

He realises then what song is playing. Tiffany croons about a love that could’ve been over the shitty hotel sound system.

Steve sways him gently, hands fiddling with the back of Eddie’s shirt collar. They’re pressed almost chest to chest, only a sliver of space between them. It might as well be nothing.

“Every time I get my hopes up

They always seem to fall

Still, could've been is better than

What could never be at all”

Eddie has never been one to relate to the lyrics of pop songs, but all of a sudden it hits much too close to home. He feels his heart in his throat, his stomach in his feet. His breath comes short and his eyes prick with moisture.

He pushes Steve back, just on this side of too firm. Steve stumbles a little but Eddie makes sure he doesn’t fall. “I’m sorry.”

And with that, Eddie leaves a groom that isn’t his standing alone in the middle of a crowded dance floor.

He bursts out into the hallway, hair falling out of its neat updo as he whips his head from side to side, trying to figure out where to go. He picks a direction and sticks with it, striding down a random hallway until he finds an unlocked door.

He pushes it open and finds a room much like the one Steve’s reception is being held in. The lights are low here and the tables lay bare of their white silken covers. Eddie walks over to one of the tall windows and cracks it open. He pulls a crumpled pack of Marlboros out of the pocket of his slacks, and tips one into his hands.

He slips his zippo out of the front pocket of his suit jacket, and runs his thumb over the engraving. The outline of a warlock with ‘86 inscribed in the middle - a gift from Wayne after he finally graduated, third times the charm after all.

He flips it open and tries to light up. It doesn’t spark for a moment, despite how hard he tries. He thinks back to that horror flick he and Steve caught a month or two ago - hadn’t this happened to the protagonist.

Eddie snorts, his life is more a tragedy now, even if it was briefly a horror film.

The flame finally catches and he lights his cigarette, taking a deep draw and holding it until the back of his throat aches. He leans out of the window and watches the smoke curl into the dark of the night.

Behind him the door to the room clicks shut, and smart shoes click across the polished floor. They come to a stop a few feet away, and Eddie feels the hair on the back of his next stand up.

“What was that about?” Steve asks. Eddie lets out a shuddering breath, takes another drag of his cigarette.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t… don’t bullshit me, man.” Steve seems to grit his teeth, to clench out the words as if they’re hard to chew on.

Eddie sighs and stubs out his cigarette on the stone windowsill. He turns around, leaning back and starting down at the floor. “What do you want me to say, Steve?” He glances up, meets Steve’s eye. “I’m not exactly having the best time in there.”

“But we were all having fun together. As a family. You’re part of that, you know you’re part of that so I… I don’t see what the problem is? Have I done something? Is it me?” Steve rambles out, voice quivering almost imperceptibly. He runs a hand through his hair, messing up the way it was perfectly styled.

Eddie ducks his head. Stays silent.

Steve swallows and nods his head with a clenched jaw. “Right. Okay.” He takes a step closer. “Can I fix it?” He whispers, eyes wide and wet.

Eddie sighs, looks anywhere except into Steve's eyes because he knows then he’ll break. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Steve asks, incredulity lacing his tone. “Come on, man. If you tell me what it is, maybe we can work out a solution together.”

“I can’t tell you.”

“You can’t…” Steve trails off. He sounds sad, and Eddie hates that it’s his doing, but he can’t handle it anymore. Can’t watch the man he loves dance with a beautiful woman who he so desperately wishes he could hate. Can't sit around and watch them build a life together when he knows he’ll never have that, not when Steve is spoken for. “When have you ever not been able to tell me something?”

Eddie bites his tongue.

“Fuck, Eddie. I don’t… I don’t know what to do!” Steve is tugging on the roots of his hair again. Eddie wonders if, were it his hands doing the pulling, Steve would moan under his touch. But then again, it’s probably the wrong time to entertain such fantasies. “You’re one of my best friends, man, and I can’t… I can’t handle you being upset with me! I mean, you’ve been weird all day! I thought maybe the party would help raise your spirits a little and yeah, okay, I was wrong, but I can’t fix this if you don’t let me. Like shit, all I did was ask you to dance and you…”

Steve pauses as Eddie looks up, watching his expression morph from one of panic and frenetic energy to a curious look of realisation.

“I asked you to dance.” Eddie nods.

Steve swallows, he’s looking away now, putting the pieces together. His hands are resting on his hips, that signature ‘Mom’ pose the kids love to make fun of so much. “You didn’t bring a date.”

“I didn’t.” Eddie finally speaks up. He knows where this is going. Isn’t ready. Is.

“Why not?” Steve sounds a little choked, like maybe he’s nervous to find out the answer.

Eddie squeezes his hands into fists and releases them. Takes a breath and lets the air leave him shaking. “Because the person I want is already here.”

Steve crumples a little then, a marionette with its strings cut. He smiles, though it seems forced, almost painful. “I’m..?”

Eddie nods, resigned. “Yeah.”

“Fuck.” Steve mutters under his breath before stalking towards Eddie, fast and determined, wrapping a hand around his tie and tugging him into a firm, crushing kiss.

Eddie feels himself freeze, holding his hands up as if he’s going to protect himself.

Steve’s lips are warm and soft beneath his own, they taste like cherries - the balm Eddie knows he’s so fond of, that makes his mouth look so enticing. One of his hands rests on Eddie’s cheek, large fingers spread wide from his jaw all the way to his ear. The other has flattened itself away from Eddie’s tie, now resting above the frantic thud thud thud of his heart.

Steve pulls away with his eyes closed and lips still puckered. He frowns when he comes back to himself.

“I…” He swallows. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t ha—“

Eddie steels himself. Grabs the lapels of Steve’s suit jacket and yanks him back in, swallowing Steve’s surprised squeak with his lips. It melts into a moan and Eddie feels just a little proud of himself.

They pull back again, eyes locked and dark, afraid to break this bubble they’ve created around themselves. Separating them from the party, from the world.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” Steve asks, voice wrecked and quiet. Eddie doesn’t know if the question is for him, or if Steve’s just asking to ask. But he doesn’t have the time to wonder before they’re kissing again.

Eddie doesn’t know who moved first, but their tongues are pressed together and their hands are grappling at jackets. Steve is… vocal. All breathy whimpers and rough groans. It’s music to Eddie’s ears.

He runs his hands through that stupid fucking hair, softer than it probably was in high school, free of the hairspray and gel that kept it big. Steve’s grown since then. He still primps and preens with the best of them, but he isn’t so reliant on Farrah Fawcett now. Steve’s hands play with the hair at the back of Eddie’s neck, tangling and carding through the strands. He gives a gentle tug and Eddie can’t help but gasp.

He feels Steve smirk into the kiss as his hands drift further down, to his shoulders and then his chest. Steve loosens Eddie’s tie and presses a kiss to the base of Eddie’s throat as he undoes the first button of his shirt.

“Steve.” Eddie whispers, voice soft and pained.

Steve pulls back, looks at him through his eyelashes, reverent and dark. “Let me do this for you.” His voice comes out soft. He undoes a few more buttons, staring deep into Eddie’s eyes.

Eddie can’t look away. His shirt is down to his navel now. He nods his head. “Okay.”

Steve smiles, a small, secret thing, and drops carefully to his knees, keeping his gaze locked with Eddie’s. He pulls Eddie’s shirt from his dress slacks, pressing a sweet kiss to the skin beneath his belly button. He rests a hand on Eddie’s belt - he had retired the handcuffs for the night, and some part of him deeply regrets it. “Can I?”

Eddie’s glad Steve had the forethought to wear his contacts. He thinks he’d die if Steve was looking up at him through gold wire frames.

He nods, and Steve makes quick work of his belt buckle. He slowly pulls the pants zipper down, before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to Eddie’s cock where it sits, more than half hard, in his briefs.

Eddie inhales sharply, the sensation dull but still ever present. He glances down, sees Steve on his knees before him, has to look away.

Steve sucks at the wet spot forming on Eddie's boxers and Eddie bites back a moan. Steve pulls away, staring up at him, but keeps one hand on him, rubbing slowly through the fabric. "I wanna hear you."

Eddie's hands clench and unclench in the air by his sides, unsure where to put them, what Steve's comfortable with. But that question is answered for him when a gentle hand takes his, presses a kiss to each individual knuckle, and guides his to the top of Steve's head, threading his fingers through his hair. "You don't have to be so gentle with me. I like it a little rough." Steve says, voice light and teasing.

And all of a sudden, Eddie's mind is flooded with the imagery of that statement. Steve face down on a bed, tears streaking his cheeks. Steve's strong hands clenching in white bed sheets. Purple bruises littering his collarbones, his chest, his thighs.

God, those thighs. He imagines them wrapped around his waist, over his shoulders, either side of his head.

He imagines Steve, sweat slicked and quivering beneath him. Writhing and moaning and begging. Imagines a fierce red blush spreading from his cheeks down his neck to his chest as Eddie whispers sweet nothings and dirty talk in his ear. Imagines him wrapped in soft, tight rope, a dark crimson or black to contrast the tan of his skin. Imagines his hands tied to the headboard.

His mind is full to the brim of pictures and possibilities, a million ways he could bring the man before him to ruin.

Eddie clenches his hand in Steve's hair, tugging sharply at the strands. He watches Steve's eyes flutter closed as he gasps. Steve smirks. "That's more like it."

"Shouldn't you be putting that mouth to better use?" Steve's smug look drops away, that pretty red blush Eddie had fantasised about replacing it. Eddie uses his grip on Steve's hair to pull him closer to his crotch.

Steve wets his lips, reaches up and tugs Eddie's briefs down to free his cock. It bounces up, slapping against his stomach and smearing pre against his skin.

Steve wraps a warm hand around it, pumps it up and down. He leans in, pressing a wet, open mouthed kiss to the base and gazing up at Eddie through his eyelashes. He licks a stripe up the underside from base to tip with the flat of his tongue, before suckling on the head.

Eddie loosens his grip, cards his fingers through the soft strands. He smirks. "That's more like it." He says with a mean, teasing lilt. Steve's eyes flutter, rolling back for a moment until Eddie can only see the whites. He tugs again, gentle this time. "C'mon, baby. You know what I want."

He dons that dominant persona like a second skin. He can’t let himself think about how fucking wrong this is, how Steve’s goddamn wife is only a a few rooms away. He knows he’s fucked everything up irreparably, but what the hell? He’s already started, he might as well follow through.

Steve nods, movements stilted under Eddie's grasp. He wraps his lips around the head of his cock, flicking the slit with the tip of his tongue. He bobs his head a little, sucks and laves his tongue over Eddie's skin until the room is filled with nothing save his wet noises and Eddie's own heavy breathing. He moans, his eyes closed, sending vibrations down the length of his shaft.

Eddie bites back a groan, watching Steve’s lips stretched wide and shiny around his cock. When Steve blinks his eyes open, gazing up at Eddie, they’re glossy and wide - a goddamn dream come true.

Steve hollows his cheeks, swirls his tongue around the head of Eddie’s cock before swallowing him down to the hilt and engulfing him in a wet heat.

“Fuck, baby.” Eddie moans, clenching his hand in Steve’s hair to hold him there. He wonders where Steve learned to do this, who’s cock he sucked to get this good. Part of him is jealous it wasn’t him. He wants to ask him the story, knows he never will. “Made for this, weren’t you, Stevie?” Steve whimpers, it’s muffled with his mouth full. “You look so pretty on your knees.”

Steve’s eyes flutter as he tries desperately to keep his gag reflex in check. Eddie pulls him off by his hair, letting his panting breaths echo in the quiet of the room as he tries to catch his breath.

He takes in the mess of the man on his knees before him. Steve’s eyes are watering so much they’re glassy, his lips are swollen and red. Eddie thinks he could cum just from the sight of him.

“Harder?” Steve’s voice is hoarse already, his lips slick and slightly swollen.

Eddie raises a brow. “You’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want it.” Steve leans in close, pulling against Eddie’s grip. He slowly jerks Eddie’s cock in one hand as he presses languid kisses along the length. He presses his free hand against the sizable tent in his slacks. “Take what you want. I’m not made of glass.”

Eddie kicks at the hand he’s grinding against to move it out of the way, takes a step forward and rests his shoe between Steve’s legs, pushed right up against the bulge in his trousers. Steve inhales sharply, staring up at Eddie, dark eyes wide with shock. He shifts, bears his weight down and gives an experimental roll of his hips. A shudder wracks his frame.

“Good?” Eddie smirks. Steve just nods, hips juddering. “Tap my leg if you want me to stop, yeah?” He nods again. “Words, Stevie.”

“Yeah.”

“Better. Now open up.” Steve’s mouth falls open, his tongue lolling out, pink and wet. Eddie bites back a groan at the sight and grips his cock at the base. He rests it on Steve’s tongue for no more than a moment, before sliding it in all the way. He runs his hand through Steve’s hair, then grips it tight, holding him down. “So beautiful.” He murmurs.

Steve moans, the sensation around his cock causing Eddie’s hips to jerk and hit the back of Steve’s throat. Steve chokes, and Eddie starts to pull out.

He doesn’t make it far before Steve is grabbing his ass to pull him in deeper. “Fuck, Stevie. Guess you weren’t lying, huh?”

He thrusts in again as Steve’s nails dig in hard through Eddie’s slacks. He builds up a rhythm, guiding Steve’s head with a hand in his hair, his cock gliding slick and perfect against Steve’s smooth tongue as Steve sucks and whimpers and swirls his tongue. Steve’s hips jerk frantically where they’re pressed against Eddie’s shoe.

It can’t be comfortable, Eddie thinks, but nonetheless he keeps going.

Moonlight spills through the window and casts Steve in a pale glow. He’s more beautiful than ever, down on his knees like he’s at prayer, while sinning so prettily.

Eddie can feel that sizzling heat start to simmer in the bottom of his stomach, frissions of arousal sending sparks all over his body.

It’s perfect. It’s not enough.

If this is the last time Eddie will ever see Steve, ever have him beneath him, be inside him, then he needs more. Needs to be pressed against the strength of his back, needs to feel the warmth of him seeping through his clothes. He needs the intimacy if anything. Needs Steve to know how wanted he is, how this is more than just a quick meaningless fuck.

They’ve already ruined whatever friendship they had, what more could they lose?

“Fuck.” Eddie mutters. He pulls Steve up by his hair, spins him round until his back presses against Eddie’s chest.

“What… what’re you doing?” Steve asks, voice gravel rough. Eddie reaches around, grapples with Steve’s belt buckle until it comes undone. He pushes his slacks and his briefs down, until they hang around Steve’s knees.

“Taking what I want.” Eddie pulls at Steve’s suit jacket, pressing kisses down his jaw, his neck, behind his ear, as he works it down his arms. He tosses it unceremoniously to the side before pressing a flat palm between Steve’s shoulder blades and pushing until his chest lies against a nearby table. That perfect fucking ass is round and bare and presented to Eddie like a goddamn feast.

He wishes he could get his mouth on it, knows he never will.

He brings his hand down against Steve’s right ass cheek, the crack echoing sharp and loud in the quiet of the room. He slots his hand over the reddening welt, takes a handful and squeezes.

“Oh fuck.” Steve lets out a breathy moan, his breath fogging up the wood as one hand reaches out to grasp the opposite edge of the table.

Eddie rucks Steve’s shirt up, rubbing his hands over the harsh scars that cover his back, healed silver with time but still rough to the touch. He trails his hands down Steve’s back, stopping until his thumbs fit perfectly into his dimples of venus. He leans in, kisses down the knobs of his spine, each vertebrae blessed with a press of his lips, before coming to a stop at his tailbone.

“Eddie…” Steve exhales a whine, cheek pressed to the table under him. “Stop fucking teasing and touch me.”

Eddie chuckles softly, nipping at the expanse of skin beneath him with his teeth, sucking a mark. “Oh, baby, I am touching you.”

Steve growls, a rumbling guttural thing, and pushes his hips back, his bare ass pressing against Eddie’s cock. Eddie barely holds back a moan, his hand clenching around Steve’s hip to hold him still.

“I didn’t say you could move, honey.”

Steve inhales sharply at the pet name. “I need more, Eds. Please.”

Please, he says, as if that doesn’t shake Eddie’s entire world to its core. He’s going to be playing that over and over in his head until he fucking dies.

“Since you asked so pretty.” Eddie takes a half step forward, grinds slowly against Steve’s crack, his cock catching against Steve’s hole. “God, the things I’d do to you if I had some lube and a condom.”

Steve lets out a breathy laugh, shuddering as Eddie’s hips keep moving, continuing that slow, steady grind. “I’d let you.”

Eddie grins, runs his hands up and down Steve’s back before stopping at his hips and squeezing gently. “Yeah? You’d let me fuck you right here?”

“Uh huh.” Steve shifts, presses his forehead to the table and rocks back. Eddie digs his fingers into that soft, supple flesh beneath his palms and imagines carving a hole in Steve’s chest, making a home there, living within him. They’d never be apart, nothing could ever separate them.

It’s a sort of possessiveness Eddie can never indulge. But God, how he wishes he could.

Eddie pauses for a moment. Closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. It’s all happening so fast he can barely keep up. He knows he should put a stop to this, walk away before he makes it any worse.

But, well, fuck it, he thinks.

Everything’s already well and truly ruined. Why should he stop now?

“Eddie?” Steve mumbles out against the table, bringing Eddie back to the moment. “Y’okay?”

Eddie’s heart clenches in his chest.

Here is a man laid before him, messy and perfect and everything he has ever dreamed of, and Eddie realises he’s been going about this all wrong.

Some dark, cruel part of him is yelling for him to make this count. To make sure Steve remembers this the next time he lays down with his wife. The next time she undresses him, kisses him, touches him in those intimate places. That part of him says, make it sweet, loving. Make it tender. Make sure he knows it isn’t just sex.

That part is screaming. Ruin him.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m okay.” Eddie leans down. Presses a gentle kiss to the side of Steve’s neck as he rocks against the crevice of Steve’s ass. Trails more kisses over his clothed shoulder, down the scarred knobs of his back.

He runs his hands up Steve’s sides, touches him almost reverently. Like something holy. “You’re so beautiful, Steve.”

Steve gasps out a moan, rocks back like he’s not in control. Eddie bites back a groan, rocks forward.

He feels something swinging against his hip, reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a half empty tube of vaseline. He smirks, squeezes some out onto his fingers and warms it up. Eddie reaches down, drags a slick finger over Steve’s hole and presses gently against it. Steve shudders, choking out a whine.

Eddie spreads a little more vaseline between his cheeks. He rubs up against him again, gliding smoother where skin meets skin. “That feel good, baby?”

Steve nods, free hand clenching into a fist against the table.

“Words, honey.”

“Feels good, Eds. So good.” Steve replies breathily. Eddie chuckles. He builds a rhythm grinding forward as Steve pushes back. It’s quiet for a moment or two, save for the sounds of their breathing and Steve’s punched out little groans.

Eddie presses his clean hand against the centre of Steve’s back, keeping him in place, and reaches round with his slick one, wrapping it around Steve’s cock. He strokes slowly once, twice, three times, running his thumb over the head to collect Steve’s pre and spread it back down.

“Fuck, Eddie.” Steve gasps out, hips jerking in his grip. His movements are juddering, like he can’t decide whether to fuck into Eddie’s fist or back against his cock. His cheek is pressed flat against the table, eyes clenched shut.

Eddie keeps his fist just bordering on too loose, keeps moving his hips. He leans close to Steve’s ear. “I want you to feel good, Stevie. Take what you want.”

Steve takes that as his cue, grinding rapidly back and forth, fingertips grasping for purchase against the smooth wood. He gasps and moans, writhing in place.

Eddie curses, rocking his hips against Steve’s heat. “That’s good, baby, you’re doing so good.”

Steve moans, deep and guttural as his movements become frantic. He reaches down, covers Eddie’s hand with his own, tangles their fingers and tightens Eddie’s grip.

“Yeah, fuck, just like that. M’so close.” Steve whines beneath him, trembling as he picks up the pace. His hips move faster, stuttering and jerking as he nears his end.

It’s almost a surprise to watch Steve come. It’s everything and nothing like Eddie expected. He could’ve fantasised for hours, days, years, but nothing his brain would’ve come up with is comparable to seeing the real thing.

Steve loses himself in it, lets the pleasure wash over him like a tidal wave. His eyes clench shut and his mouth falls open in a long moan as he comes undone. His hips keep pushing into the tight wet of Eddie’s fist until he becomes oversensitive.

Finally, he pulls his hand away, rests it on the table.

Eddie pulls away too, takes his own cock in hand as Steve lies there coming down, breaths coming out fast, and takes the sight of him in. The look of him debauched, ravished. The strain of muscles beneath scarred skin. The pink blush on his cheeks. The bitten red of his lips. It doesn’t take much.

“C’mon, Eds. Wanna feel you come.” But that’s what really does it. A few jerks of his hand and Eddie’s coming, streaking white across silver scars.

He falls forward, drapes himself over Steve in a desperate need for closeness. Doesn’t care about the mess he’s surely making of his shirt.

The room is near quiet. Still. And Eddie feels warm save for the sinking in his stomach.

He kinda wants to stay there forever. Knows he has to leave as quickly as he can.

Minutes pass, neither of them make the effort to move.

Eddie pants, pressing his forehead between Steve's shoulder blades. The room is silent save for their synced panting breaths. He pushes himself up slowly, muscles protesting the movement.

Steve remains in place on the table top, cheek pressed against the wood as he catches his breath. His eyes are closed, dark eyelashes fanning over flushed skin, and his forehead is damp with sweat. One of his hands lies curled but loose against the table, the other grips the farthest edge, white knuckled. His shirt is rucked up to his armpits, showing the scarred expanse of his back. His slacks are round his knees, the perfect curve of his ass bare.

He's marked with Eddie's cum. All the way from his hole to the centre of his back. It stands out, pale against the tan of his skin. Eddie's almost tempted to reach out, drag a finger through it.

He doesn't.

Instead, he pulls the lilac pocket square from the breast pocket of his suit jacket and unfolds it. With gentle hands, he wipes his spend from Steve's back. He balls the soiled cloth up and shoves it deep into his pants pocket. He'll bin it later - even if the thought of keeping it does briefly cross his mind.

Steve hums, grateful, pressing his forehead to the cool surface of the table. He flexes the hand that was gripping the edge, trying to get the feeling back.

Eddie turns away, feels like he's seen more than he's rightfully allowed. He tugs his pants up, hands shaking as he clasps his belt. He makes an attempt to tuck in his shirt, but it's creased to shit now, so it doesn't quite lay flat anymore.

He walks back over to the window. Outside, the moon is high and the sky is clear. The ground is dewey, almost sparkling. He thinks it must've rained at some point.

He taps out another cigarette from the packet in his pocket and lights up. Blowing out a plume of smoke, Eddie presses his forehead to the cool glass.

Behind him, he can hear Steve shuffling, tidying himself up. Probably preparing to let Eddie down and run off back to his perfect little wife.

Well fuck that, Eddie's gonna beat him to it.

"We can't do this again." He says, fogging up the glass in front of him as he speaks.

Steve's voice is rough when he replies. "I know."

Eddie knows that tone of voice. He knows it all too well. The one where he says one thing but means another.

He flicks the ash from his cigarette, turns and leans against the wall next to the window. Steve's leaning back against the table they just fucked on, staring down at a scuff on his left shoe.

From this vantage Eddie gets to see the wondrous Steve Harrington in all his post-sex glory. His shirt is all rumpled, much like Eddie's own, his jacket is still in a pile on the floor. His hair is a goddamn mess and, though he's tucked himself away, his slacks still hang open at his hips.

Fucking temptation incarnate.

"Steve." Steve looks up, his eyes are still shiny. "We can't. You're married."

Steve frowns, looking away again. He doesn't seem too happy about that. Taking in the frown lines on Steve's face, Eddie would guess the man is at war with himself. Running through all his options. He bets Steve wishes he could run off and find Robin, talk to her before finishing this conversation.

Unlucky for him, Robin is nowhere to be seen.

Eddie swallows down a lump in his throat. Has to force himself to say something he knows will wreck the both of them. "I think it's best that we don't see each other for a while."

Steve's head whips up so fast, Eddie's surprised he doesn’t give himself whiplash. "What?"

Eddie shrugs, self-deprecating and overly conscious of the mess this all is. "I don't... I never intended to be a homewrecker."

Steve scoffs, folding his arms over his chest. "The home has barely been built, man."

A sharp exhale and Eddie's running his free hand through his hair. "That's so much worse! You've got to see that it's worse, Steve!" He takes a pull from his cigarette and blows the smoke out fast. "I was just gonna keep this shit to myself. I never expected this."

"You did it, though. You let me.”

"I did." Eddie chokes out, voice shaky. "And I shouldn't have. I'm fucking sorry that I did."

Steve nods. He's quiet for a moment, his head ducked and shoulders hunched. When he talks again, it's quiet. "How long then?"

Eddie tilts his head. "What?"

Steve looks up then, fierce eyes burning hard into his own. "How long until I see you again?"

"Oh." Eddie breathes softly. "I'm not sure." He swallows. "I need time to get over you, Stevie."

Steve's gaze has gone cold, frozen over. Eddie knows it isn't personal, he's just trying to protect himself, but it hurts all the same. "Well you should probably go then."

It stings like a shot to the heart. "Right."

He moves to stub out his cigarette, but Steve stops him before he can. "Leave the cigarette." Eddie nods, leaving it resting on the window ledge. He slips a hand into his pocket, thumb rubbing over the engraving on his lighter. He pulls it out, watches how the silver glints in the moonlight, and gently rests it down on the ledge as well.

He can't meet Steve's eye again as he walks out of his life for what he knows will be forever, but he does stop at his side. He leans in, presses a gentle kiss to his cheek. Whispers, "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry." And rushes out of there.

He stops at the door before he leaves completely. Finds Steve stood at the window, Eddie's cigarette between his lips and dusty suit jacket draped around his shoulders. He flicks open the lighter in his hand, watching the flame flicker.

The last time Eddie Munson sees Steve Harrington, he is gazing out of the window into the moonlight, rumpled from Eddie's hands on his body, and Eddie knows his heart is never going to recover.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #zee writes

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