#and they demand it

[runraerun]

Read below the cut or on AO3 <-

Part 1 is here <-

(*Please heed the updated warnings before reading. Billy is not the nicest guy in this chapter. But remember: Angst with a happy ending. We’ll get there!)

Chapter Summary:

It becomes a thing.

Eddie can barely believe it.

He doesn’t know which Gods he accidentally sacrificed what to, but hooking up with Billy fucking Hargrove becomes a regular thing.

He’d track Eddie down—at his house, maybe at their spot in the woods, or sometimes even at a party—and drag Eddie off to some secluded area to have his way with him. They’d smoke together first, sometimes Billy would drink too if he brought his flask, and then they’d mess around to chase the high.

Eddie can’t remember ever being this happy.

Added Warnings:

• BIG content warning for violence, bordering on DV between romantic partners here. Billy is not nice in his fic (at least right now he isn’t), but I don’t plan on going any darker than this.)

• Deeply delusional thinking.

• Parental death mention.

• and of course, it’s rated E for smut reasons.

If you can handle all of that; enjoy!

—

It becomes a thing.

Eddie can barely believe it.

He doesn’t know which Gods he accidentally sacrificed what to, but hooking up with Billy fucking Hargrove becomes a regular thing.

He’d track Eddie down—at his house, sometimes at their spot in the woods, or even at a party—and drag Eddie off to some secluded area to have his way with him. They’d smoke together first, sometimes Billy would drink too if he brought his flask, and then they’d mess around to chase the high.

Sometimes Billy would pay Eddie, but he doesn’t make a habit of it. They have an understanding though; something that doesn’t need labeling or overthinking. It’s the kinda shit that’s beyond words.

And it isn’t like Eddie’s getting ripped off or anything. Hell no. Eddie’s getting some top level experiences with Billy, sex-wise. He’s pretty sure, anyway. He’s not exactly an expert, but Billy sure as shit seems to be. So if Eddie’s gotta sacrifice a few grams here and there to get some one on one time with the face-melter himself—yeah, Eddie’s gonna take it. He’s gonna sink his gay little claws into that hunk of man meat and hold on for dear life, praying he’ll make it out the other side in one, unbroken, lightly tenderized piece. Hell yeah, he’ll take that trade any day of the week.

Like right now. He could be making cold hard cash upstairs, but Billy had gotten to him first—and that shit takes precedence. They both showed up to this lame house party with a bunch of recently graduated dick-wads, all celebrating their shiny new acceptance letters and even shinier futures by buying fistfuls of pills from Eddie and washing ’em down with cheap beer.

But not Billy. Not Eddie either. No, when fall rolls around, they’re not going anywhere.

Eddie, ‘cause he’s gotta repeat the fucking twelfth grade again, and Billy because he’s almost as broke as Eddie is. Billy’s smart but he’s not full-ride on a scholarship smart.

The world moves, but they remain.

Eddie’s hips move too. Rutting up against the hard rubber sole of Billy’s boot, the ever increasing pressure of it sends shockwaves of pleasure directly to his denim-trapped dick.

Billy’s standing over him, sucking back on one of the joints Eddie’s rolled especially for him while Eddie’s on his knees, with a death grip on Billy’s shin. Eyes locked onto those baby blues, trying his fucking hardest to keep from making any noise. An almost impossible task when Billy’s gone ahead and made a fist in the back of Eddie’s hair, pulling it right where it feels good.

They’re in some kind of a cellar. The walls are lined with cans and jars and shit, with bare concrete for a floor. It’s cold. And of course his jeans have holes right at the knees, so second by second, he can feel the stone slowly leech the heat away from his body. But Eddie doesn’t care. Billy and him make do with whatever spot they carve out for themselves. Eddie’s not some chick that’ll demand a nice hotel room or candles or whatever—nah, he takes Billy where he’s at. That’s why Billy likes him. That’s why he keeps coming back.

It’s not always like this—sometimes they’re in the back of Billy’s car, or in the staff washroom at the Hawkin’s Pool, where Billy works. Sometimes Billy will even sneak into Eddie’s bedroom through his window, not say a word, and crawl into his bed. Those nights are Eddie’s favorite. Billy’s already drunk, usually, so he lets himself relax. They kiss each other until their mouths go dry or until one of them falls asleep. He’s gone before the sun is up, but Eddie gets to wake up to sheets that smell like Billy’s spicy, expensive smelling cologne. It’s gross, but he doesn’t change his sheets for weeks after.

The pull-switch from the single, flickering bulb above them is resting against Billy’s shoulder, wriggling around like a snake that’s in the midst of getting charmed. It’s the same silver as his dangling earring, along with the rings on Billy’s thick fingers. Silver suits him. Which makes sense, seeing as his skin already looks golden.

Fucking gorgeous. Like a movie star.

“You gonna cum sometime tonight, Munson?” Billy mutters around his cigarette, briefly pulling his hand from the door knob to pluck the joint from his lips. He flicks the ash off the end, exhaling in a great cloud of white smoke, before putting it back between his lips and re-securing the door, “I got shit to do.”

He sounds bored. Uninterested. But Eddie can see from the hard outline in his pants that he’s anything but. Billy likes to play this game. Like to act like he’s not enjoying himself when he very clearly is. Sometimes he lets it slip—let’s Eddie see. The walls go back up pretty rapidly after that, though. So quick it makes Eddie’s head spin sometimes.

But Eddie likes what he sees when it does happen. It feels forbidden. Something sacred—something none of the girls that Billy fucks gets to see. Because Eddie’s special.

“H-harder,” he sputters, feeling hot and cold all at once, like he’s got a fever, “just a little—yeah, yeah, that’s—Jesus, yeah, that’s perfect, Billy.”

A smirk tugs at the corners of Billy’s mouth as Eddie writhes up against the bottom of his boot. Billy leans forward a little more, putting his weight down on Eddie, pushing past the line, until Eddie can’t take it. He cries out. Whimpers, really. It isn’t that loud, but it’s enough for Billy to pull his hand free from Eddie’s hair and give him a quick, opened palmed smack against the cheek.

“Shut up,” he growls.

The sharp, sudden sting of it is always enough to re-center Eddie. To get him back in line. Billy never hits him hard enough to leave a mark, (though sometimes Eddie wishes he would) no, what Billy gives him is love taps. Reminders.

The hand that just slapped him is now over his mouth, strong fingers digging into the corners of his jaw to ensure his silence.

Eddie knows that Billy could seriously hurt him, but he doesn’t. All he ever does is make Eddie feel good. So fucking good…

The threads of pain and pleasure within him are plucked simultaneously, both reaching the same frequency in tandem. Eddie lets its harmony vibrate in his chest. He usually feels so goddamn hollow, but the sounds don’t echo tonight. Because when Billy’s holding him like this, Eddie is full. No more empty spaces. His cup overfloweth.

Tears form along the rim of his eyes from the pain, blurring his vision. He tries to keep his eyes open for as long as he can, but eventually he blinks, sending the tears streaking down his cheeks, onto Billy’s fingers.

Billy’s breathing goes a little ragged, and the hand holding the door securely shut is suddenly on his crotch, palming himself roughly.

Fuck, that’s hot.

So hot that Eddie’s eyes roll back in his head and he’s shooting a hot fucking load in his pants, hips stuttering up against Billy’s crushing weight. He’s panting through his nose, savouring the bond between him and Billy. Feels it strengthen with each pounding beat of his heart.

His head goes swimming, basking in a sea of freshly released feel-good chemicals his brain’s cooked up especially for him. Billy lets his hand slip from his face, but he leaves behind what feels like a brand in his wake. Eddie’s a marked man, even if he’s the only one who can see it.

His mom used to talk to him about things called soul-ties before she died. How you anchor parts of yourself to every person you make love to. So be careful who you choose, baby boy, she warned.

Eddie doesn’t think his mom would like Billy very much. Not at first, anyway. Not until Eddie explained to her what the things he did actually meant. How he made Eddie feel. How Billy Hargrove was hard and gruff on the outside, but that Eddie had peered through the veil—had spotted the secret soft side that Billy keeps so heavily guarded. He would explain to his mom how day by day, Eddie can feel the cracks widening. Like a dandelion pushing its way through concrete, until it reaches sunlight. Because what other option does it have? It’s that or shrivel up and die in the dark.

Eddie reaches up to touch between Billy’s legs, only to get his hand shoved away.

“Don’t,” Billy says firmly. He stubs out the roach out on top of one of the jars of pickled beets.

“Why not?” Eddie asks, eyes darting towards the door. They’re still alone. The basement was dark and downright creepy. Eddie doubts anyone from the party will be coming anywhere near the cellar door.

Billy doesn’t answer him. Just readjusts himself in an attempt to hide it. It’s still noticeable as fuck. “You had some good shit tonight, Munson.”

“Thanks,” Eddie murmurs, still a little light headed. He flinches when Billy sticks a hand in front of his face, blinking at it stupidly until he realizes it’s an offer to help him up. He takes it.

“Might come by your place this weekend. Get some more,” Billy licks his lips between his words. Not trying to be seductive, just… twitchy. Amped up. Probably from getting blue balled. “You gonna be around?”

Eddie nods, “Yeah, I’ll be home. My uncle’s working nights so… I’ll leave the porch light on for you?”

Billy ducks his head when he too nods, focusing his attention on his pants again. He probably wouldn’t have such a hard time hiding his stiffy if his jeans weren’t so goddamn tight.

…But then Billy’s jeans wouldn’t be so goddamn tight, and that’s a reality Eddie has absolutely zero interest existing in.

“Let me suck you off,” Eddie murmurs, keeping his voice low, barely above a whisper. Doesn’t wanna spook Billy. For someone that’s mostly made of hard muscle, he sure is a timid thing. Eddie didn’t know someone could be both fight and flight at the exact same time. “I want to,” Eddie adds with a tilt of his head, trying to catch Billy’s eye.

Billy gives a laugh that stays at the back of his throat. “Yeah, I bet you do.”

“So let me,” Eddie smiles as he takes a half step forward, not bothering to try and hide his eagerness.

The thought looks like it’s rolling around Billy’s head. Considering the proposition. Blue eyes meet brown. Eddie’s heart flutters.

“Maybe next time.”

Next time.

The hollow feeling in his chest comes back, and Eddie feels the smile slip from his face. His chin starts doing something weird too.

It’s always next time.

Never—

“Don’t pout,” Billy groans, like Eddie’s being annoying for spiralling down a tunnel of self-loathing. He slots a hand against the side of Eddie’s face, using a thumb to trace the ridges of his mouth, “your lips don’t look half as pretty when you do that.”

Eddie leans into the pout, just to push back against Billy. It just makes Billy chuckle, so of course fireworks start shooting off in Eddie’s head. Making Billy laugh was a rare feat. Not just anyone can do it. But Eddie’s special.

Billy grins, a flash of canines. “C’mon man, I thought we were having fun.”

Eddie sucks in a quick breath, frustration boiling over, “I just… I just don’t get why you won’t ever let me return the favour—it doesn’t gross me out or anything. I like it! And, just so you know, I don’t care if you’re like, small or anything, I won’t judge, I just—“

In an instant, that hard-won smile on Billy’s face twists into something ugly. Furious.

The air shifts, and Eddie’s back is slammed against the many shelves along the wall. A jar of pickled something goes careening off the ledge and shatters next to their sneakers. It stinks like vinegar. Makes his eyes water.

Billy’s got a hand around Eddie’s throat, the one that was just cradling his face, now holding him in place. The pressure quickly builds in his temples, and he wheezes in an attempt to pull a panicked breath in. His spent dick twitches in his jeans, which—fuck, of course Eddie gets off on this. Jesus Christ he really is one broken son of a bitch.

“I’m not,” Billy leans in, speaking between clenched teeth, agonizingly slow, “small.”

Some suicidal part of Eddie’s impulse-control-deficient brain opens his mouth to mutter something about a gentleman protesting too much, but thankfully he can’t seem to make anything more than a few wet sounding choked noises.

A beat passes where nothing happens except the corners of Eddie’s vision start to go a little wonky. Darkness creeps in, framing Billy, making his blue eyes seem sort of electric. Eddie digs his nails into the meat of Billy's forearm, waiting for him to snap out of it.

He does. Like a rubber band, time snaps back into motion. Catches up with his Cali boy.

Billy yanks his hand off of Eddie’s neck like it had been burning him and he’d only just realized. He opens his mouth, his eyes gone wide and wild, but nothing comes out. Instead, he just gets this look on his face after he knows he went too far. A look that shaves nearly a full decade off of him, making Billy look eight rather than eighteen.

“It’s okay,” Eddie croaks out, getting ahead of Billy before he spirals, “m’not hurt, see? It’s okay.”

It’s only half true, and Billy can tell, because the next second Eddie has a coughing fit. Like his throat’s trying to reset itself. When he’s finally caught his breath and wiped the spit from his mouth with his shirt sleeve, Billy’s still staring over at him through the eyes of a scared little kid.

“I’m fine,” Eddie insists, but Billy just… looks at him. His hands clenched up into fists by his hips. Frozen.

It’s only when Eddie risks reaching for him that he seems to remember how to move. He backs away a step, blinking rapidly, like he’s trying to reorient himself.

“Wait… wait here for twenty minutes after I go,” he begins, words shakey at first before he seems to remember that he’s Billy fucking Hargrove, and that Eddie’s just… well, Eddie’s just lucky to be here. “Then leave through the basement door, got it?”

The cellar gets colder with each passing second, and Eddie’s sure it’ll drop another few degrees when Billy leaves, taking his body heat and golden skin with him. Eddie pulls his arms around himself, tucking his hands in his pits to try and keep ‘em warm.

“Got it,” he mutters from his sore throat, his hollow chest. He worries his bottom lip.

Billy usually goes. He doesn’t make a habit of hanging around after he’s made it clear he’s finished. Not one for long goodbyes, his Billy.

But he doesn’t go. He hovers. Sways a little, like he’s trying to gather momentum to make his move. Eddie wonders if he’s thinking of ways to try and fix something that doesn’t need fixing in the first place. Because Eddie isn’t fragile; you can’t break something if it’s already broken.

“I really am okay,” Eddie reiterates quietly, with a shrug of a shoulder, “don’t worry about me, man. I’m tougher than I look.”

Resilient, his mom called him. Like a stubborn little weed, she teased. It’ll serve you well when I’m gone.

Eddie hated it when she had talked like that, but now that she really was gone and those words are all he’s got left of her, he runs them through in his head, over and over, re-committing them to memory like prayers to saints.

Eddie feels the air shift around him as Billy takes a step back into Eddie’s personal space. He reaches forward to fix something that’s apparently gone askew with Eddie’s hair, then his hands move down to Eddie’s collar, straightening it up. Like he’s tidying up a mess before he leaves.

Then, like he just can’t help himself, Billy leans forward and captures Eddie’s mouth with his. Some nights Billy’s kisses are soft and gentle. Tonight they’re hungry, and eager. They’re the kind of kisses that make you go weak at the knees and stiff at the nipples.

Billy opens his mouth, and Eddie follows suit. Their tongues glide against one another’s, tasting, drinking from each other's mouths. The scratch of Billy’s stubble is nearly enough to get him hard again.

But just as quickly as it starts, it’s over. In one fluid motion, Billy pulls away, swings the cellar door open and disappears through into the darkness, getting gobbled by the darkness.

Eddie reaches up and touches his lips as they slowly pulls into a smile, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest.

Forgiving, his mom had also called him. Another compliment.

Maybe a little too forgiving, she added, and he remembers how her big brown eyes that he’d stolen from her went all soft and watery. Eddie knows how much she hated crying, but near the end she seemed to do so damn much of it. Impending death will do that to a person, he supposes.

I’m sorry I won’t be there to protect you, bug. You’ll have to learn to protect yourself, her voice echoes in his head.

No, Eddie’s mom wouldn’t have liked Billy.

But, unfortunately, Eddie loves Billy. More than he knows he should. More than what’s healthy. He feels anchored to Billy.

Soul-tied.

He smokes a cigarette while he waits the twenty, then leaves via the basement door, just like Billy told him to. No one’s the wiser.

He should feel like shit. Guilty, maybe. Or dirty, at the very least.

But all Eddie can think about is this weekend, about the next time he gets to see Billy. All he can think about is next time.

Next time.

As he gets in his van, puts her in reverse, but when checks his rear view, he goes rigid. Brown eyes that look so much like his mom’s stare back at him.

There’s a shock of bright red where there would normally be white stained across his left eye. A burst blood vessel. That must’ve been what Billy got so spooked over.

He blinks, but the red doesn’t clear up no matter how many times he does it. They just go watery, and eventually he has to look away.

He hated seeing her cry.

…Sorry, mom.

—

Permanent Tag List: (dm me if you'd like to be added or removed-OR if you'd only like to be tagged for specific ships. ie, ONLY Steddie or ONLY Harringrove, ONLY Mungrove, etc.)

@stervrucht @dame-zoom-a-lot @lawrencebshoggoth @morallyundefined @thepossummoldypasta @wheneverfeasible @sanctumdemunson @chaotic-waffle @bookworm0690 @lifelessstar

[desolationlesbian]

sometimes I think too hard about like. how the ability to record audio fundamentally changed how humans interact with music. can you imagine if the only time you ever heard music in your whole life was when you or another human being in your actual physical presence decided to create it. and 99.99% of the time that person was not a professional but just like your wife or your dad or your co-worker or church choir singing or playing whatever they happened to know. i honestly don't think we can fathom it

[twinliches]

nearly had a medical emergency today because - and i cannot stress enough how little i am making this up - a helicopter landed in front of an open grain silo while i was getting off my ship and i am deathly allergic to the wheat that said helicopters rotor blades proceeded to blast in my face at full force. the cosmic forces are plotting against me ass situation to be in

[boeing747]

When your partner has a praise kink but you're Montessori trained so you know that praise is an ineffective way to encourage development and it's much more productive to acknowledge their effort so that they learn to effectively give themselves feedback so they can develop a healthy intrinsic motivation instead of deriving their self worth from labels put on them by other people .... "baby it's amazing how much you could last today compared to last week"

[sticksandsharks]

Egret Nurse

design from The Wildercourt (a graphic novel I am working on and hope to have finished in 2025)

[pacipinka]

*taps mic* is this thing on? Yeah okay so every vampire in the vampire chronicles is turned at critical a moment in their lives and beyond just the body they are in when they are turned, their mentality stays at that standstill for their entire immortality, Lestat was turned against his will, he was clinging onto Magnus begging him to be freed, so he’s constantly seeking freedom and only finding loneliness and thus turning back to people again and again, however he can’t STAND being told what to do, since he desires agency in his life so desperately, Armand was turned after years and years of abuse and lack of control but such a desire for genuine love, by a man he ‘loved’ so wholly who he felt was barring his love from him, he needs control in his life, he needs a ‘master’ but he does not desire it, it does not fulfill him, he is trapped in a room but the door is unlocked! Louis was mourning his brother, he felt like an utter failure and so he’s always seeking family, seeking people he can care for, he can coddle, he can prove he is good too, but he loves people who either cannot stand coddeling and need a sense of looseness to live (Lestat) or people who grow out of coddling who prove to Louis he will always fail the people he loves (Claudia), Claudias turning, in many MANY ways mirrors lestats in that it was against her will, she was stolen from her home, and in her immortality she desires freedom but unlike Lestat does not have the agency/ form to get it, she will always be small, she will always be looked down on, even by Lestat who cannot deny how much she is just like him *taps mic* ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME!! NONE OF THEM CAN BREAK THE CYCLE!!! TO BREAK IT WOULD BE TO UNDO THE VERY FIBER OF THEIR IMMORTAL SELVES!! THE CYCLE IS THE BLOOD THEY DRINK IT IS THE HEART IN THEIR CHEST AND IT ROLLS AND ROLLS DOWN THE MOUNTAINS AND VALLEYS OF THEIR LOVE FOR EACH OTHER AND IT CAN NEVER BE STOPPED BECAUSE THEY WILL NEVER STOP LOVING EACH OTHER!!!!!!!!!!!!

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

Autistic Traits I Struggle to Describe to Non-Autistic People

Neurodivergent_lou

[b1adie]

[chronicbitchsyndrome]

so: masking: good, unequivocally. please mask and please educate others on why they should mask to make the world safer for immune compromised people to participate in.

however: masking is not my policy focus and it shouldn't be yours, either. masking is a very good mitigation against droplet-born illnesses and a slightly less effective (but still very good) mitigation against airborne illnesses, but its place in the pyramid of mitigation demands is pretty low, for several reasons:

it's an individual mitigation, not a systemic one. the best mitigations to make public life more accessible affect everyone without distributing the majority of the effort among individuals (who may not be able to comply, may not have access to education on how to comply, or may be actively malicious).

it's a post-hoc mitigation, or to put it another way, it's a band-aid over the underlying problem. even if it was possible to enforce, universal masking still wouldn't address the underlying problem that it is dangerous for sick people and immune compromised people to be in the same public locations to begin with. this is a solvable problem! we have created the societal conditions for this problem!

here are my policy focuses:

upgraded air filtration and ventilation systems for all public buildings. appropriate ventilation should be just as bog-standard as appropriately clean running water. an indoor venue without a ventilation system capable of performing 5 complete air changes per hour should be like encountering a public restroom without any sinks or hand sanitizer stations whatsoever.

enforced paid sick leave for all employees until 3-5 days without symptoms. the vast majority of respiratory and food-borne illnesses circulate through industry sectors where employees come into work while experiencing symptoms. a taco bell worker should never be making food while experiencing strep throat symptoms, even without a strep diagnosis.

enforced virtual schooling options for sick students. the other vast majority of respiratory and food-borne illnesses circulate through schools. the proximity of so many kids and teenagers together indoors (with little to no proper ventilation and high levels of physical activity) means that if even one person comes to school sick, hundreds will be infected in the following few days. those students will most likely infect their parents as well. allowing students to complete all readings and coursework through sites like blackboard or compass while sick will cut down massively on disease transmission.

accessible testing for everyone. not just for COVID; if there's a test for any contagious illness capable of being performed outside of lab conditions, there should be a regulated option for performing that test at home (similar to COVID rapid tests). if a test can only be performed under lab conditions, there should be a government-subsidized program to provide free of charge testing to anyone who needs it, through urgent cares and pharmacies.

the last thing to note is that these things stack; upgraded ventilation systems in all public buildings mean that students and employees get sick less often to begin with, making it less burdensome for students and employees to be absent due to sickness, and making it more likely that sick individuals will choose to stay home themselves (since it's not so costly for them).

masking is great! keep masking! please use masking as a rhetorical "this is what we can do as individuals to make public life safer while we're pushing for drastic policy changes," and don't get complacent in either direction--don't assume that masking is all you need to do or an acceptable forever-solution, and equally, don't fall prey to thinking that pushing for policy change "makes up" for not masking in public. it's not a game with scores and sides; masking is a material thing you can do to help the individual people you interact with one by one, and policy changes are what's going to make the entirety of public life safer for all immune compromised people.

[carlyraejepsans]

that halfway stage of oc creation when you're closing in on the design or the personality or both but the other half of the character's still a nebulous concept and they don't even have a name but now they're alive and they demand to be heard. agonizing

[stemmmm]

play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play w-

[fantastic-nonsense]

"Damian should be a veterinarian when he grows up" this and "Damian should be a doctor" that….I think he should take advantage of his wealth and be an art major

[lectorel]

Got permanently banned from a subreddit for saying law enforcement shooting someone dead in the street was still a bad thing even when the victim was a violent right-wing fanatic.

Gotta say, I did not expect that to be such a controversial statement. So repeating it here: law enforcement shouldn't kill people. Even violent assholes have a right to be taken in alive, and it's a failure of practice and policy when someone is killed in the process of an arrest.

[bogcreacher]

hey man love your comics! sorry people don’t treat you like a person

[bacchuschucklefuck]

no more fan-ta-sizing about it! everything's already changed~