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6ix9inewiturmom · 7 months ago

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Long day- matt Sturniolo

Summary: You had a long day at work and matt gives you some lovin to help with your long day :)

Warnings: SMUT, P in V, parsing, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, use of Y/N, Dirty talking, Degradation, aftercare!

A/N: I LOVE SWEET MATT!! ITS MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE!! ignore the song, i couldn’t find one so since he knows sm about bags

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Today has genuinely been the worst and longest day of my life. I’ve worked front desk at a salon for the last year and a half now, i had people coming in asking me about what to do for their hair type, karen’s complaining about their hair, just overall horrible, im just the front desk lady for right now i cant really tell these fucking people what to do, make a damn appointment. Matt and I have been together for 3 years, and have been dating to the public for a year and a half, when i graduated cosmetology school. thankfully after this cursed wednesday evening i was on my way to Matt and i’s house that we also share with his triplet brothers. i pull into the driveway and make my way to the door and unlocking it.

“Baby?” i yell walking up the steps.

“he’s been in his room playing video games streaming for like 4 hours” nick says shooting me a quick smile before looking back at his phone.

i knock softly on the door “jesus christ im streaming guys” matt slams his head set down on his table and opens the door “Wha- oh my god Y/N i’m so sorry i thought it was one of them” he says quickly changing his tone giving me a soft peck on the lips.

“it’s fine” i breath out giving him a smile walking into his room.

“tell the stream Hi, baby” he pulls my hand into frame making me force a smile onto my face.

“hi everyone” i awkwardly wave to his camera watching the chat go absolutely crazy when i entered.

“okay well i’m gonna end this cause the mother of my future kids just got here” he says making a smile appear on my face.

he ends the stream and turns around facing me almost analyzing me.

“why do you keep looking at me like that?” i roll my eyes and make my way to our shared closet pulling out a pair of his sweats and a T shirt of his.

he walks towards me leaning against the door frame “all of your clothes in that closet and you still choose to wear mine, but to answer your question you seem off” he says softening his tone.

“i’m fucking fine matt, damn, all on my ass for nothing” i groan out pushing him out of my way and falling on the bed scrolling on my phone.

“umm okay” he huffs sitting down next to me on the bed “so how was work?” he says breaking the silence of tiktok playing in the background.

i groan “it was long i guess” i place my phone on the bedside table and turn towards him.

“you guess?” he questions giving me a soft smile.

“find it was so dreadful, answering calls from people who can look up these answers on google, and oh my god i had this karen come in and” i laugh softly “and she literally accidentally tried this hair mask and fried half her hair and blamed it on me, knowing i’m just the front desk representative, then on top of all of that this lady yelled at me for eating carrots at the front desk” i say while he’s staring at me passionately listening to everything i have to say.

“did you say anything to that lady who yelled at you?” he asked while looking in my eyes as passionately as he can.

“my manager heard her yelling at me calling me ‘unprofessional and rude’ and ended up almost calling the cops on her for causing a disturbance” i smile back at him.

“well it sounds like to me you need a little distraction from your long day at work eh?” he smirks leaning into me as i playfully roll my eyes and lean into him crashing his lips onto mine smiling into his kiss.

he softly places his hand on my cheek pointing his tongue out a little begging to explore my mouth, i slightly open my mouth as his tongue dives into my mouth immediately taking dominance from my tongue and intertwining with mine. his hand travels from my cheek to my breast giving my bare breast a gentle squeeze causing a soft whimper to escape my lips. his hand travels down to my waist and toying with the waistband of my his sweatpants.

“can i?” matt pulls away and softly asks me.

i smile and playfully roll my eyes “yes matt you can”

he carefully crawls on top of me tapping my waist as a signal to lift my hips up. he pulls my pink lacy underwear and pants down together in one throwing them on the other side of the room.

“such a pretty pussy” he says softly running his slim fingers in between my wet folds collecting my arousal onto his fingers “and so wet” he smirks back up at me.

“matt” i drag his name out in a whine, “please don’t tease me” i stare desperately into his eyes through my eyelashes.

“Only because you asked so nicely my love” he smiles at me leaning down and starts placing mouth kisses directly into my clit flicking upwards with his tongue.

“Oh fuck Matt” I moan out placing my hand on top of his head and pulling at his hair causing him to grunt through my pussy sending vibrations through me.

“You like this hm?” he smiles and shoves his fingers into my hole curving them slightly upward and making me go absolutely insane.

“Yes!” I chant repeatedly.

My walls tighten around his fingers and my clit spasms between his teeth. “Someone’s close eh?” he smirks leaning his head upwards while moving his fingers in and out while reaching my sensitive clit with his thumb making figure 8 movements around my bud.

“S-so close Matt” I cry out arching my back off the bed and rolling my eyes back.

“Uh-huh? You close?” he taunts smiling at me and immediately thrusts his fingers into me touching my G-spot so easily.

“YES- FUCK MATT” My hips twitched upwards “FUCK I'M GONNA CUM” I scream out bucking my hips up.

“Come on baby, cum for me” his voice softens looking down at me coming unglued from just his fingers with amusement in his eyes.

With just his words, the knot in my stomach broke and cum dripped down from me and onto his fingers.

He lightly tapped my leg “I ain't done with you just yet, sweetheart” he said smirking at me.

“Matt I don't know if I can take another one..” I said out of breath still coming down from my very intense orgasm.

“You know your safe word, Y/N,” he says ripping his shirt off. “And you never have to be afraid of using it, I'll stop immediately you know this.” he pulls his sweatpants and boxers off in one freeing his hard cock and slapping his stomach.

he crawls over me placing my legs on either side of his hips and slowly agonizing using his tip to slide through my wet folds teasing me.

“Matt,” i whine “please fuck me”

“Patience sweet girl, patience” he smiles at me slapping his cock on my clit and making me jerk upwards and squeal.

He slowly puts his tip into me then removes it and slowly enters it again and removes it before roughly bottoming out into me gripping the headboard for support making his knuckles white.

“Oh Matt” i moan out.

He rolls his hips deeper into me smirking down at me “You like this hm? God, you feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock, and taking it so fucking well” he groans out.

My legs wrap around his waist forcing his body to get deeper each time he pushes himself into me making my eyes roll back into my head causing me to see starts, My moans become hoarse from the strain on my voice.

“Aww has my gorgeous whore gone dumb? Can't talk? What happened to all that attitude you had earlier?” he grabs my chin between his thumb and index finger.

“Uh huh, uh huh” i bite my lower lip and nodding vigorously.

“Words or I stop” he thrusts his hips deeper into me and maintains his violent thrusts.

“YES MATT FUCK- RIGHT FUCKIN THERE” I finally answer him with a strain in my voice.

My response only made him thrust into me deeper and faster. My cervix spasms around his cock signaling how close i am making a long groan exit from his lips. “Hold it”

He rolls his hips and pounds his hips into mine “Matt” I drag out his name with a moan.

“Come on, you got it” he nods his head continuing to thrust and abuse my cervix.

“S-so f-fucking close” I whisper scream out.

“Cum” he buries his head into my neck moving his hips in a way that kisses my cervix making me release all over his cock creating a white ring around the base of his cock.

His thrusts become sloppier as he releases into me painting my once pink walls a nice white color and slowly pulling out watching a mixture of his cum and mine slowly fall from my hole.

He vaults to his bathroom quickly so no one catches a glimpse of him or me in our naked state to grabs a warm cloth and slowly runs it down my legs cleaning him and me up before lying next to me placing my head on his chest.

“I'm sorry for the attitude I had earlier, I just had a rough day and shouldn't have taken it out on you,” I say “Thank you for lighting my mood up” I smile facing the TV drawing small circles on his stomach.

“Hey don't worry about it, we all got bad days baby, I'm just glad you're good now, that's all that matters to me” he softly says running his fingers through my hair and massaging my scalp and falling fast asleep in Matts arms.

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A/N Pt 2: HEY LOVES!! Sorry I haven't been so active in trying to recover from being violently hungover for the last 2 days LMFAOO… I HOPE U GUYS ENJOY!! i promise ill be active more!!

#Spotify #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo

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johnwickb1tsch · 9 months ago

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bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 20 all chapters

gif credit to dilfgifs

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

-You try to go as long as you can, but later that night you decide you just can’t stand it anymore. You’re pretty sure it’s been days, and you feel gross.

“Can I…use your shower?”

He turns to you with a small smile. “You mean, our shower? Yes.”

Hoping that’s the end of it, and this exchange won’t get weird, you slip out from under his arm to go into the bathroom. You check your prospects, finding expensive shampoo, conditioner, bodywash, shaving gel…but no razor. You guess you get it, kind of, but really. Then again, maybe you'd better not ask. Why send mixed signals by shaving off your body hair? It’s just an aesthetic mostly catering to the male gaze anyway…

But it bugs you.

You pop your head back out of the door. “Razor?”

He doesn’t even look up from his book.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

This annoys you for some reason. “Just so you know, I am not going to try to kill myself.” Brave words for someone in your situation, but at least at the moment, you mean them.

“I was more worried you might try to kill me.”

You open your mouth again, until he fixes you with that laser-like stare. “Just take your shower, y/n, or do I have to come in there to help you?”

The thought of his large hands on your body slick with soap sends an inconvenient spear of desire straight to your center.

“No.”

You disappear fast as a groundhog into its burrow, closing the door behind you.

“Door open!” he yells in that particular tone, and sensing the shift in his mood, you comply rather than pull his tail some more.

Well done, you, you chide yourself as you strip out of your dirty dress and your ACE bandage in the cavernous shower. He was actually in a good mood, somehow, after you tried to knock his head off with a book. And now you…what? You did something to piss him off, at least a little bit.

Learning his moods was going to take some doing.

It was the only way you were getting out of here alive.

You keep looking over your shoulder, half expecting to see him looming behind you. That man moves silent as a ghost when he feels like it.

It’s creepy. And…kind of hot, if you’re being honest, but that is not a helpful thought.

You feel a thousand times better with all the grime washed from your hair and your body. You wrap yourself in a big fluffy towel that feels like a cloud on your skin, and put off going into the bedroom by drying your hair.

There are products on the sink that you use, face lotions and hair creams, and more expensive versions of the same type that you could never afford. How did he know?

Then again, he has fucking gorgeous hair, he probably knows more about styling product than you do.

You turn to look at his handiwork upon your bum. The bruise is a red and purple swirl nearly the size of your fist. You can actually see the neat lines of his teeth marks. “Jesus Christ.”

His eye was going to heal way before that was.

When you can’t really dawdle in the bathroom anymore, you war with the next conundrum.

Fresh clothes.

Fuck it. You march out, heading for the closet without making eye contact with the reclining leopard on the bed. You can feel his eyes on you, and fuck if it doesn’t turn you on to be watched like that. Like you are some kind of prize to be desired.

It feels utterly insane to you, to say the least. You’re not that beautiful, but he looks at you like you’re Helen of Troy.

With your hand on the closet door John clears his throat pointedly.

You know you can’t ignore him. Risking his wrath while you’re wrapped in nothing but a bath towel is so not a good idea.

You turn to find he’s laid something out at the foot of the bed for you already.

“Wear this,” he says. It’s an order clothed in velvet. Polite, but…you sense the unyielding directive underneath.

You pad on bare feet to the foot of the bed. It’s a silky lavender nightie with lace at the bodice. Nothing too wacky. No embarrassing peep holes or extraneous straps. You are somewhat relieved.

Until you see the underwear he’s paired with them.

Your underwear, as a matter of fact.

Those went missing a long time ago.

Speechless, you look to him, knowing you look like a fish out of water but unsure what to say.

This has been going on for way longer than you even knew, and you didn’t have a clue.

“You took these from my apartment.” You manage not to yell it.

“I didn’t want you to wear them for anyone but me.” He has the cheek to sound grouchy about it, like you did something wrong.

You feel your temper rising like the mercury in a thermometer. You know you’re going to say something stupid, but you just don’t know how to keep it in.

“How. Fucking. Dare you?”

He just sighs, like he already knows how this is going to go. “Don’t play this game with me, baby.”

You bite down on the impulse to demand he not call you baby.

“You could have just…asked me out. I would have said yes, you know?”

He actually looks away as you tell him this.

“Maybe you would have. Until you realized I’m just a bitter old man, and you would have left me.”

You blink at that. How can he be so smart, and yet so blind?

“I knew you were a bitter old man all along! But you know what? I liked you anyway. I thought you were interesting, and funny, and so fucking handsome, and I wanted to fuck you. But now…” You clench your fists, shaking with all the vitriol you know you can’t unleash on this unpredictable man.

This unpredictable killer.

He takes your fury, seemingly nonplussed. You’re not sure any of it registers at all, and it takes some of the wind out of your sails. “This isn’t love, John,” you say quietly, your throat tightening with every syllable. “Love is…having the courage to bare your heart to the sword, and take what comes. You can’t control it like this.”

He tilts his head at this, a wave of that lovely dark hair covering his face. You get the feeling like he’s hiding from you, when he does that.

Finally he asks, “Have you ever been stabbed, y/n?”

Your heart skips a beat, as you wonder if he’s threatening you. “No.”

“Well let me tell you. It fucking hurts.”

Then he reaches down the bed to pluck up the panties, sticking them in his pocket. “I guess I’ll just keep these. You’re not going to need them anyway.”

You glare daggers at him.

He offers you the slightest, smuggest, smile.

“You sonofabitch.”

“Watch that mouth, kitten. Unless you want me to fill it up with something else.”

You bare your teeth with the thought. “I fucking dare you,” you spit, snatching up the nightie to take it to the bathroom to change.

“Nuh uh,” he interjects. “Change here.”

You freeze in your tracks, understanding exactly what he’s demanding of you.

This is how it’s going to be, you tell yourself. He’s going to be sweet, and then he’s going to be insufferable, and if you’re not careful, he’ll get downright mean. Don’t be fooled by the sweet moods, because all the rest is just beneath the surface waiting.

It was so hard to remind yourself of that, when he was being good to you.

You don’t turn around. You moonlighted as a drawing model after college. You can handle this, right? He’s already seen parts of you anyway…

It’s soooooooooo much different than being in that classroom, when you undo your towel and let it fall to the floor. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your bare form. In the end, knowing it’s just your backside, that he’s already gotten way more than an eyeful of…doesn’t really help. With shaking hands you quickly you pull the nightie over your head.

You hope he feels guilty about the size of that fucking bruise, but you have a feeling he probably likes seeing his marks on you.

“Come here.” He practically purrs, and your flesh aches for the sound. Fuck.

You turn to face him, but do not move. Once again, that glorious boner is making an appearance. It’s almost flattering, how often this man has a hard-on when he’s around you. If this had been a normal relationship, you would have made it your mission to oblige him at every opportunity, just to see what the old man could take.

As it is…all you want to do is fight him, and you know you are destined to lose.

He pats his thigh, as though he expects you to sit on his lap. Without underwear. Or a bra. Or a sense of self-preservation.

You shake your head no with the glitter of moisture in the corners of your eyes. You’ve never felt so helpless in your life, and you hate it.

He frowns at your defiance. My god, no one can do a forbidding frown, like Mr. John Wick. It lodges your heart in your throat, even while you find him magnificent.

“Are you going to make me make you?”

And there it is.

You sigh, and you feel like a piece of your soul exits your body. Good. Good, be empty. He can’t hurt an empty husk.

“I guess so.”

You close your eyes, and you wait. You wait for his rough hands, for the violence that is surely coming to you. You shake like a leaf, unable to stop. You don't know why you'd allowed yourself to hold out some hope, that maybe he really wasn't going to hurt you.

Yet, it does not come.

You open your eyes to find him still frowning at you. He hasn’t moved a muscle.

The longest three seconds of your life tick by. You count them in your thundering heartbeats, and then he scoots over on the bed. “Fine. Come lay by me then.”

You are shocked to your toes. You forget how to move.

“Now.” He snaps his fingers, pointing to the bed beside him, and you scurry over before he loses his patience with this kinder offer. Cautiously you crawl up beside him, and when he holds up his arm you understand the cue, snuggling into his side with your head on his shoulder.

Alright, this, you can do.

This feels almost…normal. The way your head fits into the divot of his shoulder is just…divine, if you’re being honest, and your body shudders as you suppress a sob, hiding your face against his chest. It’s not fair, that you still want him so much, and you mourn for the promise of sweetness that was snatched from your table before you ever really got a chance to taste it.

“Shh,” he soothes, touching your hair, his big hand dwarfing the crown of your head. “I’ll try to remember to be patient with you.”

You nod against him, wanting to believe him, knowing that makes you a sad little fool.

“But my patience has its limits. Remember that, kitten.”

Oh. You weren’t going to forget.

He continues to hold you, and eventually your heart slows, the tension in your body finally relaxing.

It’s incredible, really, how you just can’t leave well enough alone.

Now that you’ve both calmed, you feel bold enough to ask, “John?”

“Yeah, baby?” His lips on the top of your head make your eyelids flutter, it’s so sweet.

“Do you…at least know that it was wrong, to break into my apartment?” You feel like the answer to this one question will help you gauge everything about his state of mind.

He is silent for a long time. Long enough to let your imagination run rampant with the things he might do to punish you for this impertinence, after he was so generous as to just let you lay down with him and snuggle.

Yet there’s no anger in his voice when he answers, “Yeah. But I’ve been breaking the law my whole life, sweetheart, and no one’s stopped me yet.”

It’s the truth, and a nice neat little warning, all wrapped up in one.

You should be scared again, but you just sigh against his chest. Maybe you’ve used up whatever hormone is responsible for adequate fear responses for the day. Or maybe…his games are working on you already, claiming your sanity inch by inch.

You lay there in his arms, and eventually you start to doze. He strokes your hair, a sweet and lulling touch that makes you curl your toes. When those featherlight fingertips find their way to the back of your neck, and the tops of your shoulders, you cannot help but squirm. In your half-asleep state, this is your kryptonite, and your leg tangles with his, your pelvis pressing against his hip. It feels like the most natural thing in the world, to crane your head towards him.

Only when you feel him shift to lean towards you for a kiss, do you realize what you are doing.

You turn your head at the last second, and his grip on you tightens from comforting to bruising in a nanosecond. “Wait—”

He has you on your back before you can blink.

“Are we still pretending you don’t want me, kitten?”

“I…”

Suddenly his hand is between your legs, manhandling you like he owns you, raking up your thigh to swipe at your folds. He finds you soaking wet with slick, of course, and he makes a point to press your clit with his thick fingers as he withdraws. It sends an agonizing jolt of desire spreading through the cradle of your hips, the ache in your stupid little cunt nigh unbearable. You hardly recognize the keening sound that escapes your mouth.

Was that you?

It worsens ten-fold as you watch him bring his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean. “Tastes like lies to me.”

Goddammit.

“John…”

You can hardly believe it, when he slides off of the bed, leaving you cold and alone, confused and filled with desire. The pulsing ache between your legs drowns out any rational thoughts you might have had a moment ago.

“Little liars don’t get to cum. I’ll let you think about that tonight.”

You feel like you did that night in Italy, watching him walk out the door when all you really want is to feel his thick, insatiable cock teeming inside you.

Which is fucking insane, of course.

And you were thinking he might be the crazy one?

“Same rules, sweetheart. Don’t you dare touch yourself tonight. I’ll fucking know.”

With one last baleful look over of his shoulder he touches his hand to the lock, and sweeps out of the room. He leaves you stunned on the bed, disheveled and unsure, once again, of what the fuck just happened?

#john wick #john wick fic #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves #bittersweet john wick imagine #yandere john wick #yandere #i didn't think id get a chance to post tonight so BONUS i love you all!

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yogurtkags · 4 months ago

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❝ IF NOT FOR YOU ❞ — semi eita

— 01. hunnie

"you’re the air in my lungs, the deep inhale of every line or sung that will be sung. you’re the world in empty space and all alone with you sounds like a pretty nice place."

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laying on your stomach, you’re propped up on your elbows and annotating the lyrics you’ve scribbled in your notebook. numerous circles and underlines scattered over the cream pages make them perpetually unreadable by anyone other than you, handwriting a bit more illegible than your usual cursive.

honestly you’re exhausted, sleep hasn’t been coming easy to you in the last couple of nights, tossing and turning in plush ivory sheets while the sun slowly inches its way to the horizon. your last straw was not being able to have a coffee before your 8AM class this morning, energy levels rock bottom.

but there’s nothing quite like the sudden spark of inspiration, crashing into you headfirst like a truck that’s lost control on the freeway. you were stuck on this song for weeks and almost put it on the chopping block after not being able to expound on the initial ideas, casting it to the back of your mind in favour of others. but something just clicked and you’re giddy with excitement, not even fatigue being able to stop you at this moment as you brainstorm melodies and hum quietly to yourself while awaiting eita’s arrival.

speak of the devil, the door to your room flings open haphazardy and bounces off the wall with impact. you’re jolted out of your reverie to see the man of the hour with his hands full, scrambling to get up and help him.

“jesus christ, be more gentle with the door, will you?” you chided, reaching forward to take the drinks out of his hands, placing them on your nightstand. "i'm making you pay for damages if our landlord comes looking for me."

“well i’m sorry, i would’ve been if i didn’t have my hands full.”

turning around, you come face to face with semi eita draping his jacket over your chair and running a hand through his long ashy grey locks with a sigh. even wind-swept and disheveled, he’s still a sight for sore eyes, and you hate that he’s always been the prettiest boy, even since you were kids.

climbing back into bed, you pat the space next to you and he follows, plopping himself down on the soft mattress and reaching for your guitar. "so, show me what you got in that lovely head of yours."

while fiddling with the steel strings, he just listens. to you eagerly talking him through spilled ink on the lined paper of your journal, to you vocalising a melody you came up with, to you opening up your laptop and playing around with some beats on the production software. he just stares and listens, nodding once in a while to affirm that he’s paying attention.

his hands move on autopilot as he plucks a tune, fingertips dancing across frets with the grace of a ballet dancer rehearsing a routine for the umpteenth time as he tries to play what you’re putting down. he makes it look so effortless, and you can’t help but let a smile break out across your face, remembering how he struggled as kid and oh, how far he’s come.

it’s taking everything in him to resist reaching over to caress your cheek and just kiss you already with the way you’re looking at him, like he himself plucked the stars from the sky. it stirs a sense of possessiveness that he never knew was within him, not even wanting to entertain thoughts of you looking at others like that. please, reserve that smile only for me.

the sun seeping through the sheer curtains casts a veil of light on the soft angles of your face, giving the illusion of a glow from within. eita finds you the most beautiful when you’re doing what you love, in your element, even in old sweats and a 90s horror graphic tee with holes from wear and tear, and he can’t tear his eyes away from you.

you have the same look on your face from when he first heard you sing all those years ago. serene, carefree, yet there’s a tinge of darkness that would’ve easily been hidden behind layers of delight and joyous desposition if only he hadn’t known you so well. he can't quite put a pin on it just yet, but he'll ask you about it some other time. something's definitely bothering you, but now's not the time, let's not burst her bubble.

"ei, you good there?" snapping your fingers in front of his face, you shoot him a playful glare with an eyebrow raised, "don't tell me you weren't listening."

with a click of his tongue, eita scoffs, "how dare you accuse me of such treachery." who is he kidding, he was totally caught staring at you like a lovesick puppy.

leaning forward to take the pen resting atop your notebook, he lets his bangs fall to mask his slightly reddening cheeks. his arm rests on your knee, hands and fingers outstretched trying to reach that damned pen and you stifle a laugh at the way his fingers wriggle, as if it’ll help reduce the distance — unlucky enough for him, it does not.

slapping his arm away, you hand the coveted pen to him with a twin set of matching warmed cheeks, silly boy.

“so as i was saying,” he clears his throat sheepishly and trails off without meeting your eyes , adding some of his own personal labels and thoughts onto the pages with care and precision, “i was thinking for this verse, we could do…”

you notice his efforts at changing the subject and decide not to hold it against him for now, not that you were complaining. as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you didn’t hate being in such close proximity to him. you chalk it up to being comfortable with him after all these years of being joined at the hip, but i don’t think i’m supposed to be feeling shy if that’s the case.

bouncing ideas off each other is like second nature, having done this countless times. it’s all fun and games, silly chatter half of the time, but the both of you take this, music, seriously, especially something that you’re creating by hand. it’s like you speak the same language, mind body and soul at the same wavelength and frequency as you pour your heart out into this song.

every song that you write together, every creation, is a love letter to the promise you made to each other, and with each one, more and more of your hearts intertwine.

by the end of it, your bed is scattered with sheets of paper, a mess mirroring the current state of your heart, but one thing is sure — whatever you do, it’ll be good, as long as you do it together.

running through the finalised ensemble of lyrics one more time and taking in every written word, you muse to yourself, this is an ode to you, semi eita.

you are also in deep, deep shit.

ignore timetamps!

— fun facts.

♫ … the gc happened because all four of them took portugese for a compulsory class & formed a study group with shoyo tutoring them (him being allowed to take that class was basically condoned cheating)

♫ … hitoka, shoyo & kenma met first in high school but you fit well into the dynamic and they adopted you into the roomies

♫ … you post short covers & acoustic demos on twt, and kenma helped you gain traction by using them as stream bgm

♫ … eita mostly does guitar & "if this song was pop punk" content, has a decent following because he's good (and hot — is very much in denial about it)

taglist. open (link to form) @wyrcan @froyaoya @cheesypuffkins87 @peachyugoose @tetzoro @twiishaa

notes. introducing a bit more of the present day dynamic! still doing a bit of world building ehe. this is all new to me LOL I HOPE I’M DOING OKAY reblogs & interactions are always appreciated !

#ᯓ★ : written in the stars !#semi eita #semi x reader #semi eita x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #dividers: @/roseraris

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mamawasatesttube · 1 year ago

Note

PLEASE say more about your lil guy from the Tim Gets Cloned and Everyone Has a Bad Time au

anon: "👀 tim gets cloned and no one has a good time au, you say? 👀"

YEAAAAAAH BOIIIII. this is one of the incredible aus that lives in my and @adjit's dms. <3

the premise: there's some aliens who really want a weapon that's stored in the fortress of solitude. of course, that door requires a kryptonian to open; the easiest way to get in would be to get a kryptonian to open the door for them. however, kryptonians are notoriously hard to clone. superman doesn't have any noted close human connections that he might bring up there, but supernova and red robin (or rook!) are a known couple. so they stalk, kidnap, clone, and replace tim.

the clone is given two things: an implant of all of tim's memories, so that he can act exactly like him, and a kill switch, so that the aliens can easily dispose of him once he's served his purpose to clean up loose ends. he just needs to keep up the charade and get kon to take him up to the fortress of solitude, the sooner the better.

now the thing is... a clone of tim, told to act just like tim, who knows that he's a pawn and will be killed soon whether he fulfills his purpose or not, will in fact act like a tim who is really, really depressed and just pretending he isn't. and he's conflicted. because he was made with the knowledge that his sacrifice is inevitable, that his life is nothing, that he needs to simply fulfill his purpose as a tool, all implanted in his head... but in the memories he was given from tim, he also has all these memories and all this knowledge of how kon was made, and how much tim loves kon, and how strongly tim feels about anyone who would treat kon this way, and how strongly kon feels about clones and their humanity and their rights, and he is... he gets real conflicted, real fast. he hides it, because tim would hide it, and he's going to imitate tim to the letter, but here's the problem:

kon knows tim really, really well.

he sees the signs of depression. he sees the conflict that tim-clone is pretending not to feel. he sees the uncertainty around affection. he sees the way "tim" just eats his ice cream, without separating out and carefully rationing the chocolate chunks in it to maintain a specific "chunks to cream" ratio. he sees the way "tim" slowly withdraws from him, as if every simple brush of their hands makes him guilty.

and over a scant few days, he puts it together. that's not tim.

he's immediately worried out of his mind (where is tim? what happened to him? who did this to him?), but he already knows that isn't this clone's fault. so when he goes to confront him... he's kind.

he corners him in the kitchen one day and says hey. you're not tim. who are you? and who did this to you?

and tim-clone freezes. the jig is up. he half-expects to be killed on the spot, except that he knows from tim's memories that kon doesn't kill. that kon is so, so kind to clones. and he realizes, concretely, for the first time in his short life that he doesn't want to die.

and he breaks down.

they're just sitting there on the kitchen floor and tim-clone is bawling his eyes out. (for the first time in his life!) he doesn't want to die, he doesn't want to keep deceiving and lying to the only person who's ever been kind to him, he doesn't want to die, he doesn't know what to do. and kon is like okay. well. first of all im going to give you the biggest hug. and then when you're feeling a little better, you can give me all the details of what Exactly is going on, who has tim, what they did to him and to you, and what they put in your head. and then i promise you i will fix this.

(it's one of those moments where you can really, really see that kon is a clone of superman. you can't help but believe that everything will be okay, because he believes everything will be okay, and you can't not believe him.)

anyway this post is getting so fucking long jesus christ okay let me try and wrap it up quick. they go on some wacky adventures to find and rescue tim. tim-clone is continually surprised that kon is so endlessly kind to him, even after he has tim back; he sees the way kon cradles tim so tenderly in his arms as tim sleeps off the stasis he's been in, the way kon strokes tim's hair back from his forehead and kisses his brow, and he yearns a bit. he doesn't know where he fits in with this whole situation. but kon turns to him and smiles and says hey, you should get some rest too. it's been a long day. there's some pasta in the fridge if you're hungry, too. and it's just a small moment of consideration, but it still takes him aback.

(there's a moment where he looks over to kon and admits, i don't know who i am. i'm not him, but if i'm not him who am i supposed to be? and kon smiles at him and says anybody you wanna be, buddy. that's the beauty of it. and timclone looks at him for a moment and then just quietly says ...you know, i can really see why he's so in love with you.)

when all is said and done, he and tim and kon all sit down to try and decide what he's gonna do now. they help him brainstorm names for himself; he decides he wants to name himself for the first person who ever made him feel hope: supernova. his name will be nova. and, sure, tim, robin as a middle name would be funny. nova robin. as for surname... should he be a drake? he doesn't really feel like a drake, but...

oh, that's easy! kon says. nova robin kent has a nice ring to it, don't you think?

and... yeah, nova says. yeah, it does.

#they're fambly!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#this is so fucking long aouahghgh #long post #timkon #rimi writes #rambles #tim #kon #nova #nova OUR SWEET DARLING BABY BOY #we still have tomake him a playlist...

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undead-supernova · 7 months ago

Text

I'll Pay the Price, You Won't.

Follow the Fever Dream / Masterlist

Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9

plot: let's go back to the beginning again, where promises can't be made but are waiting to be kept

Pairings: modernrockstar!Eddie x fem!popstar!Reader (curvy!reader, bisexual!reader)

Warnings: family death mention, "diet" mention, failed relationships, smoking

wc: 7.1k

Early May, 2024

There was always something so comforting about the sound of a stadium filling with people. The excited squeals, the chants. The hum of thousands of people all trying to get to their seats. It was something that lured you into the world of performance. It was like church, the way that strangers came together for this very special moment in time. Even if the setlist stayed the same, each concert was unique.

And you were running late.

In your humble defense, you had tried to catch an earlier flight to Indianapolis. But when you magically received a text from Jeff with a link to two backstage passes to see them perform, it had been nearly midnight. Two days before. You had to beg Clara to let you go, promising you’d get back on a plane the next afternoon to make it to the next stop of your tour in Arizona.

You knew it was risky, showing up here.

Corroded Coffin seemed so far from your wheelhouse, a departure from the box the world put you in. Any passing glance at the certified “Pop Princess” could wind up with you on E! News’ stupid fucking Instagram page.

And, for the life of you, you were not dressed like everyone else.

You’d opted for a cream-colored graphic tee with The Beatles on it (just to mildly piss Eddie off) paired with dark jeans and a pair of platform heels. It wasn’t much, but then again you didn’t really have much on you in terms of nice outfits outside of your stage costumes. Your main goal on tour was to be as lazy as possible in between shows. And, well, now that had flown out the window.

Scott had helped you navigate the back hallways of Lucas Oil Stadium. He usually never asked questions about the decisions you made. Rarely questioned your judgment on anything. He was good like that, trusting that you always made the right choices for yourself. And though he said nothing now, you could tell he was curious.

In the last, what, five years, you’d never once strayed from the schedule. You were on the bus, on the plane, hours before anyone showed up. Before shows, you were reading a book an hour before your opening act went on.

Makeup? Done. Hair? Done. Costume? Done.

But here you were, steering off course to attend a concert based off the text of someone you met once. So you could go see the guy you slept with. Once. Who you hadn’t spoken to at all in the last two weeks. Because you hadn’t thought to exchange numbers.

You were surprised not to find the band backstage, instead being surrounded by busy crew members making sure everything was running smoothly. None of them even gave you a second glance. Guess no one here was phased by a celebrity. Thank God.

But there, inching towards the curtain, were four people. Three guys and one girl. You didn’t realize you were walking up to a crowd of…high schoolers? Fans, perhaps? On the bright side, at least you weren’t sticking out like a sore thumb. None of them were dressed like the people in the crowd.

But there you were, too terrified to approach, nearly overwhelmed with anxiety as you awkwardly stood next to Scott. It didn’t help that you’d missed the entire opening act.

Attempting to glance out at the stage, you watched a few crew members finishing up with markers and mic stand heights. Fine tuning the drums one last time.

“Move over, Dustin,” the redhead huffed, bringing your attention back.

“Jesus Christ!” Dustin responded, shaking out his soft brown curls that suspiciously looked a lot like a certain man you knew. “I want to actually be able to see him.”

“Don’t be a baby.”

He huffed. “I’m not a baby, Max! Where’s Steve anyways?”

A kid standing next to Max smiled. “Probably making out with Nancy.” Him and Max immediately started making kissing noises.

“Gross!” Dustin exclaimed. “Cut it out. You’re as bad as Mike and El.”

“Shut up, Dustin,” the one you presumed to be Mike said. “You’re just jealous ‘cause you don’t get to see Suzie for another three months.”

“Oh, hello,” another voice said behind you, startling you beyond belief.

You turned, confused when you saw a very attractive guy much closer to your age approaching with two girls in tow.

And it took less than five seconds for the chaos to ensue.

“Holy shit, you’re—”

You whipped your head around to stare at the kids who were coming closer. On instinct, Scott stepped toward you.

“What the hell are you doing at a Corroded Coffin concert?” Mike asked.

The boy next to Max pointed at you. “No, seriously, you’re—”

“Shut up, Lucas,” she scolded, pulling his hand down. “She’s just a person. You are ridiculous.”

“Uh, hi,” you said finally, feeling your face grow hot. “Yeah, hi.”

The guy behind you got closer, holding his hands up in caution. “Sorry, none of these idiots know what manners look like.”

You took in his appearance, a yellow sweatshirt thrown over a pair of jeans. A particularly nice watch on his wrist. Voluminous honey hair and dark eyes that seemed to soften in the bright stage lights.

The girl next to him extended her hand, all pretty in light blue and white. “We’re friends of Eddie’s,” she explained. You shook her hand. “I’m Nancy. This is my boyfriend, Steve. And this is Robin, she’s a close friend.”

“Nice to meet you all,” you replied. “Wait, Eddie’s friends?”

Robin nodded, shoving her hands into the back pockets of her jean shorts. “Yep, have been since right before we graduated high school. Love your music, by the way.”

Before you could respond, Nancy asked, “How do you know Eddie?”

You couldn’t help but cross your hands over your chest, hands resting on your elbows. Everyone was still gawking at you. Well, except for Max who was doing her best to keep the other kids from staring. You appreciated it even if it wasn’t working.

“Um,” you attempted before clearing your throat. “Yeah, we met back at the Grammy’s a few weeks ago. Jeff invited me, actually. But, yeah. Eddie and I are friends.”

Each person held different expressions, mostly dumbfounded. Was it really that weird for two celebrities to get to know each other? Even if you were in separate genres? Did you really not fit in?

But Max merely nodded at you, taking your arm while saying, “Here, come up here. You can see the stage better from here.”

Face growing hot again, you nodded back and situated yourself (and Scott) between her and Mike.

“So you’re not together?” Max asked, looking up at you.

“Um, I don’t think so,” you said truthfully.

She raised an eyebrow. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Before you could say anything, the lights dimmed. The crowd started going absolutely haywire, and you couldn’t stop yourself from clapping. (Oh and shoving some earplugs in to save yourself some hearing damage.)

A hum sounded as a smoke machine began to kick up. The screens surrounding the stage started showing images, flashing over one another as a voice that sounded suspiciously like Eddie Munson started whispering in Latin.

From the opposite wing, you saw Ronnie, Jeff, Gareth, and Grant head to their places, fixing their ear-ins. It was clear the crowd hadn’t seen them yet, as entranced by the opening sequence as you were.

“You try to run, but they’re catching up.”

The video glitched, showing all the members running through a forest. They were clothed in medieval clothing, all dark and stormy. Intense makeup and headpieces.

“What will you do?”

Behind them, you could see dark figures sprinting, catching up before a horde barreled towards them from the front.

“Do you believe you have a chance?”

All four of them looked scared, surrounded in a circle as the camera panned around each face. One by one, they pulled out weapons and shields.

“They’re trying to control you!” the voice screeched. “They are corruption. They are filth.”

The camera panned up, showing an animated drawing of Eddie as a red demon from above the clouds layered on top of the real footage of the sky. His mouth moved along to the words, his face contorting into an evil grin.

“Only I can lead you to victory.”

And then you saw Eddie slowly rising from underneath the stage. Your heart started hammering in your chest.

“And who am I?” the voice concluded. “Your humble dungeon master.”

The crowd went berserk as the lights illuminated the five figures. Eddie jumped up, laughing as he headed straight into the opening solo for “Humble Dungeon Master.”

“Ah!” Dustin yelped. “Shit, this is my favorite song!”

Eddie was in a beat-up baseball tee with a faded image of a devil and some other objects around it. You barely made out the name Hellfire Club before he was moving further away, getting as close as he could to the crowd.

There’s something about watching Eddie move, swinging his guitar around and falling to his knees on the stage as he played. And you’d be lying if you didn’t find it extremely, extremely hot.

As the final chords sounded, you watched in amazement as everyone in the stands lost their shit. And they weren’t the only ones. Every single person standing with you was going just as wild.

Eddie, with his bangs already drenched in sweat, paused to grab a swig of water before he shouted, “GOOD EVENING!” A roar of applause and hollering ensued. “Tonight is a very special night, Indianapolis,” Eddie added, dramatically lowering his voice. “Do you know why?”

The entire stadium lost their shit again, causing Eddie to look back at the rest of the band. They were just as happy as him, beaming with pride and laughter.

“That’s fucking right! This is our home state, and, by proxy, you are our home. I don’t want to see a single fucking person not having a good time, alright? Jump in the pit, shred your vocal cords, whatever the fuck you need to do. Just promise us you’ll go as hard as you possibly can. And stay safe, of course. Can you do that, Indianapolis?”

The crowd’s reaction was deafening, even with your earplugs. You still heard every note, every breath.

“Let’s go!” Eddie yelled before starting the opening riff to “Fire Shroud”.

You mouthed along to the words, bopping your head along. It seemed comical, the way all eight of you were moving the same way to the beat. For a moment, you forgot your fame. You forgot that you were a well-known stranger to these people. You forgot your place in this world.

And it was then that you caught Jeff’s eyes, watching a grin spread on his face. You returned it with a thumbs-up and watched as he got Grant and Gareth’s attention before nodding over at you.

For a moment, you really felt part of something special.

Before you could process what was happening, Ronnie delved into a solo of her own. She earned a reaction unlike any other, the stadium booming with something resembling electricity. Eddie then came in, his picking following her beat perfectly. And then Jeff and Gareth came in, followed by Grant.

“Challenger” was one of your favorites. You couldn’t help but take a few steps forward, past the kids. Clasping your hands, you rested them against your chest.

Because the realization had hit you. They hadn’t stopped playing. They had just transitioned into the next song.

And it was incredible, the way the mosh pit opened wider than you’d ever seen before. A hurricane created by hordes of people, all stomping. All singing. All laughing. Helping people up, keeping everyone safe. You saw nothing but happy faces. Happy people.

You were hypnotized.

Well, until your trance was broken by a crew member telling you to stay back. You quickly complied, ending up between Max and Lucas. Scott was already right there next to you, shoulder to shoulder.

After another song, Eddie gestured for everyone to settle down before clearing his throat.

“Hey, I really wanna thank all our friends from our shitty little hometown who came out tonight,” he said, nearly out of breath. He turned to look at the group, waving. “Hey guys! Yeah, it’s really kind of them to come support—” He paused as his eyes finally found you there.

Time seemingly stopped existing.

It was the way you connected then, the world disappearing. The stage, the people. There was only you, him, and the harsh breaths leaving both of your mouths. A gleam sitting right there in his eyes, mirroring yours.

You found yourself grinning as you noticed his eyes widen.

“Um,” he tried to continue. “That-that they came to support me and the rest of our incredible band.”

You gave him a quick wave.

He waved back at you dumbly, a nervous laugh leaving his lips. The crowd continued to applaud, blissfully unaware of what was happening.

But you did.

And he was standing there in front of nearly seventy-thousand people, tongue-tied beyond belief because of you. Jesus Christ, he was making you dizzier by the minute.

“This next one’s for you guys.”

Quickly, Eddie collected himself, giving you a smirk before he took the neck of his guitar and looked back at the crowd.

“You sure you ain’t dating?”

You turned to look at Scott, a bewildered expression on your face. He only chuckled at you, nearly giggling before shaking his head and turning his attention back to the performance.

He was only teasing you. And yet, it started a fire in your mind. No, it set you on fire. Who was this man to affect you the way he did? What business did he have to pull you towards him, an invisible string of rope tethering you together?

And why was it working?

Slowly, you turned your head back to watch Eddie.

As they ran offstage (after a stellar encore), you watched Eddie greet his friends, all sweaty and giddy. Play-wrestled with Dustin and roughhoused both Mike and Lucas. Exchanged a special handshake with Max. Steve, Nancy, and Robin were next, earning the highest of praises and chuckling at some joke Robin made.

You hung back, not wanting to get in anyone’s way. After all, you were just a guest. Practically a stranger to Eddie and the rest of Corroded Coffin. And you never felt it more than when you watched Ronnie Ecker walk right past you, even when you’d offered a greeting.

Drenched in sweat with dark clothes and an even darker expression on her face. Despite the overwhelming excitement Jeff, Grant, and Gareth had shown you, Ronnie seemed far from it. It was as if you were invisible to her despite meeting her two weeks ago. She’d even complimented you. Made you feel elated. Nearly gave her stamp of approval.

Yet there she was, just walking away. Like you were just a ghost, a transparent figure that was too inconvenient for her to acknowledge.

But when you turned back to the group, you noticed Eddie’s eyes shift to you.

And the fear was swept away.

He skipped, literally skipped, over to you, grabbing onto your elbows and shaking you.

“What the hell are you doing here!” he exclaimed. You giggled as he jostled you around. “I didn’t know you were in town. How’d you even get back here?”

“I have my ways,” you replied with a smirk, not-so-subtly looking over at Jeff.

Eddie followed your eyes, nearly gawking at the man. But Jeff said nothing, chuckling to himself as he handed Eddie a towel and walked off.

When Eddie turned his attention back to you, his excitement bubbled over, tilting his head towards the ceiling. “Aghhhh!”

And his energy was rubbing off on you, a permanent smile on your face. He was genuinely happy to see you, wasn’t he?

You laughed before mimicking him. “Aghhhh!”

You stared at each other, faces lit up like goddamn Christmas lights.

“But seriously! Why’re you here?”

“Just seeing you, actually,” you admitted. “I guess I didn’t mention that I’m also on tour right now.”

“Oh, fuck, that’s right. Uh, how long are you here?” he asked, suddenly shy as he came down from his high. He removed his hands as he continued to blot himself with his towel. “‘Cause I’m, like, hanging out with my friends for the next few days and if you wanted, you could come along.”

The mere idea of Eddie wanting you to hang out with him and his friends after only seeing each other once was making your head spin. He really meant that?

“I would love to, but I’m only here until tomorrow afternoon.”

His face fell. “Oh, fuck. Okay. Are you, uh, staying anywhere? ‘Cause, you know, if you wanted. Um. I, uh,” he stumbled, continuing to wipe sweat off his neck as if his hair wouldn’t just drench it again. “You know, I’ve got the bus, but I share it with the guys and Ronnie. And, well, we could hang with them. If you wanted. But only if you—”

“You can come stay with me,” you interrupted, stifling a giggle at his flustered ramblings. “I’ve got a hotel room a couple blocks over.”

“Just us?” he questioned, a goofy grin reaching his lips.

Nodding, you felt your heart stammering in your chest. You were really doing this, weren't you?

“Yeah, just us.”

When you entered the hotel lobby, Eddie headed straight down the hall towards the vending machines. With you in tow, he kept a hand on your back as if he didn’t want you to feel left out of his plans. As if he wanted you there. As if he cared.

One after the other, he swiped his card as the machine buzzed and whined. The candy and bags of chips fell slowly, giving you a chance to stare at him. He was a vision to behold in the glow of the vending machines, his bangs nearly dry from his post-stage shower and dark eyes more concentrated than you’d seen them before.

“You could’ve ordered room service, you know,” you said, finally breaking the silence.

“I like to get my own,” he explained. “Makes me feel more like a person.” You nodded, unable to judge. Sometimes you felt the same way. “Want anything?”

You couldn’t help but nod, reaching for your wallet in your purse. “Yeah, I can get my own, though—”

Eddie placed his hand over yours. “No, sweetheart, it’s alright. You came all the way out here. Least I can do is buy you a candy bar.” As the words left his lips, your stomach growled. “Have you eaten anything?”

You shook your head, feeling sheepish. “Uh, no. I’m, like, on this diet for tour. I think I’d be nearly eviscerated if my personal trainer knew I was about to eat junk food.”

“What diet?” he asked.

Your eyes tried to find anywhere else to look, but you were trapped under his gaze. God, how the fuck did he do this to you?

“I basically don’t have any sugar which is the absolute worst. Berries, vegetables. Nuts even though I fucking hate it. Egg whites, never just eggs. Salads. And I, like, load up on protein before a show but she kinda encouraged me to do intermittent fasting when I can. So, I do that whenever I’m not performing.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Inter-what fasting?”

You could feel the heat reaching your face, embarrassment flooding your system. Crossing your arms over your chest, you tried to hide your stomach. “Intermittent fasting. It’s, like, fasting off and on between meals or days. Like, go one day where you’re not eating much while the next day you load up on food.”

Eddie looked away for a moment, as if he was trying to process the information before cocking an eyebrow at you. “So that’s just, like, starving yourself with a fancier name.”

That caused you to let out a nervous laugh, feeling the desire to hide from him. It wasn’t like he was wrong, and that’s what made it worse.

“Sorry but fuck that.”

Shrugging, you stated, “Just the life of a female popstar. What can I say?”

Eddie gave you a glance, one that felt like exposure. Felt like he knew exactly what you were saying. Felt like he was seeing through the barriers you were trying to put up. But he immediately replaced it with a slight smile and a bump to your shoulder.

“Well, I won’t tell if you don’t.”

You couldn’t help but smile.

After you told him what you wanted, you stated, “You’re friends with a bunch of high schoolers.”

His eyes flickered over at you, leaned up against the wall with your arms still crossed.

“Does it help that they graduate in t-minus two days?”

“Maybe,” you said, all amused and teasing.

“Dustin, Lucas, and Mike were in my Dungeons and Dragons club,” he explained. “Max just kinda fell in there. So did Lucas’ sister, Erica, but she still has an early curfew, so.”

“So, you’re like a big brother?” you assumed.

“Something like that.” Eddie shrugged before straightening up. Definitely tried not to seem insecure as he moved his foot back and forth. “Why? Is that a turn off?”

You kicked his foot with yours. “No, I think it’s cute.”

And he was right back to himself, relaxing. “Cute, huh?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, biting your lip.

As he started handing you your half of the junk food, he asked, “Wanna see how cute I can be?”

Just like that, your heart was speeding again.

Nearly squirming in your jeans, you nodded. “Yeah.”

Eddie stepped a little closer, nose brushing your forehead as he gave a swift kiss. You couldn’t help but shiver, feeling his lips move down towards your ear.

“I gotta get you out of that Beatles shirt first,” he teased.

It only made the wetness pooling in your underwear even worse. You backed away from him, shaking your head at the devilish grin forming on his face.

“I’ll lead the way.”

“Tell me something true,” Eddie whispered, pulling the white duvet further up his chest.

You instinctively did the same, readjusting your head on the pillow. After having sex with Eddie that was more than just cute, you’d resigned to lying in the dark. Heads resting on pillows, facing each other. Finally bitten by the chill of the A/C after the overwhelming heat had consumed your flesh.

And there was just something about making eye contact with him that kept you there. Unable to move. Unable to run away. Unable to remove the mark he was ultimately starting to make on you.

Because you thought about his question, the way it drew you closer to revealing secrets that no one else knew. Not even your previous exes. There was just something about him, something about how you felt.

“I had someone coach my Southern accent out of me,” you admitted.

“Why?”

“So people would take me seriously. People think that if you’re from the South, you’re an idiot.” Eddie looked a little sad, but you tried to shrug it off. “I have one sometimes, but that’s usually when I’m really, really upset and can’t, like, turn it off.”

“There goes my next question.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, reaching over to brush his curls behind his ear. “Trust me, it’s embarrassing. You’d cringe immediately.”

“I highly doubt that,” he whispered, taking your wandering fingers in his and squeezing slightly. “I think all of you is amazing.”

His words melted you instantly, having to close your eyes for a moment to really take it in. Were you really this smitten?

“What about you?” you asked. “Something true.”

“My mom died when I was young,” he said without hesitation. Your eyes widened. “And then my dad went to jail for some bullshit. Got killed after he got out.”

His words struck you somewhere deep inside, in a cavern that you didn’t realize existed. It was like you felt the weight of his grief radiating off him. It was a kind of heaviness that you weren’t sure you’d experienced before.

“Do you have any siblings?”

“No, I, uh.” He shook his head. “My uncle, Wayne, was the only one who stepped in to help me. We lived in a trailer park and everything.”

“Why wasn’t he here tonight?”

“He passed away about a year and a half after we got big.” The ache only got worse. “I’d finally got him away from working his ass off and bought him a house. He was so excited about living in a house, you know? Not so close to other people. A stocked fridge. But he started getting sick, like really sick, and he just…didn’t wake up one day.”

“Eddie,” you whispered.

But he just gave you a sad smile. “I kept the house I bought him, you know. I keep it exactly how it was when he was alive. Makes it a little easier sometimes.”

“That’s awful,” you said, wiping a tear rushing down his nose and over his trembling lips. “Thank you for telling me that.”

“Yeah,” he replied, sniffling before he laughed at himself. “I guess you’re not getting the best me, huh?”

You ignored the self-inflicted jab. “What is something you loved about Wayne?”

His eyes widened for a moment before they softened. “Oh, uh.” Eyes began to glaze over, clearly lost in some memory. “He had this mug collection. So ridiculous. Every time he made it to a show, he got a new one at the airport. Eventually, I just started adding mugs to our merch line to keep him from going crazy. But he had this Garfield mug that was my favorite.”

“Garfield?” you questioned, chuckling.

A hearty laugh left his lips, the sound sending your heart into a flurry.

“The one and only.” His smile brought yours back. “Pretty awesome, right?”

“I love it,” you whispered, moving your hand back to his hair. Taking him in. Drawing him back into you as if you’d lose him the moment the morning came. But for now, he was all yours. You were all his. And as much as it was starting to unnerve you, you knew that there was still an unspoken acknowledgement about what this was.

It wasn’t a promise.

Just a mere possibility of one.

And you’d never admit it, but a part of you hoped he’d never leave.

Mid May, 2024

Knock, knock.

“Yeah?” you asked, adding one last swipe of red lipstick.

It was Scott who opened the door, already fit with a hesitant expression. “Hey, hun,” he started. “You’ve got a visitor outside.”

“Who?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Corroded Coffin himself.”

This struck you as odd. It’d only been, what, five days since you saw him in Indiana? And now he was miraculously here, trying to see you before your set started?

“He’s here?”

“Mhm.”

“Right now?”

“Yep, and he wants to come in.”

“Okay, yeah,” you said, a nervous laugh bubbling up. “Let him in.”

Scott gave you a glance, his lips seemingly vanishing underneath his mustache. It was a look of caution, of protection. “You sure, honey?”

You rapidly nodded. “Scout’s honor!”

After a quick nod, he disappeared.

And without a beat, Eddie was taking a comical side-step, standing straight and tall at the frame of the door. He was clad in a Rolling Stones t-shirt covered with his signature leather jacket and black jeans. All chains and boots and Eddie.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he said before pulling a bouquet of pink roses from behind his back.

You looked down at the beautiful floral arrangement, heat flooding your cheeks. He’d gotten you flowers?

“My god,” he added. Your eyes went back up to his face, watching his dark irises wandering down your body. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

You looked down at your baby blue bodysuit, dripping in glitter and sequins. A sweetheart bust, sinching at your waist. A set of tights underneath white thigh-high socks held up by a garter belt. A pair of white block heels.

“Oh, thanks,” you whispered.

And, yeah, you already knew you looked fucking fantastic. You chose the outfit. But the way Eddie was looking at you now, marveling you, it filled you with an emotion you couldn’t quite place.

Clearing your throat, you took the flowers from him. “What’re you doing here?”

He moved past you into the room, taking in the space as he turned back to meet your eyes. “Embarrassing myself to try and see you,” he said, giving you a sheepish expression. “Have you ever tried the whole ‘Do you know who I am’ thing on people? Trust me, it’s as humiliating as it sounds.”

A chuckle left your lips. “You could’ve told me! I would’ve gotten you a pass.”

“But it wouldn’t have been a surprise, would it?”

You rolled your eyes, going back to your chair by the vanity. Eddie sat down on the edge of the dirty green couch across from you. Laid his head on the armrest like a dog, looking up at you from under those pretty bangs and even prettier lashes of his.

“Is this some kind of Romeo complex?” you teased.

Eddie took the bait, his dimples deepening as he leaned in further. Batting his eyes, he asked, “Does that make you my Juliet?”

“Did you really come here just to flirt with me?”

He sat up, twisting himself around to actually sit on the armrest. Fiddled with his fingers.

“Well, my tour ended.”

“It did, did it?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, yeah,” he responded, quirking up his eyebrows. “And I find it peculiar that your tour ends in two weeks, butyou have next week off.” Your head tilted in confusion. “And I was thinking that, uh, if you’re in California, we could hang out. If you’d like.”

Biting back a grin, you asked, “You want to spend more time with me?”

Eddie leaned in closer to you, nearly beckoning you towards him.

Voice all hushed, saying, “Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

“I think I’d like that,” you whispered, drawing closer.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Knock, knock.

“It’s time to go!” Scott exclaimed from behind the door.

Both of you stood, but not before you caved and gave his cheek a quick peck. And before you could give him a chance to respond, you were skipping out of the door.

You performed the best you ever had that night.

It was strange, the way every smile you bore was genuine. There was no true performance added that night. No, you were running on a high that seemed far beyond your comprehension. And it gave you a feeling that maybe that’s what Eddie had felt the other night.

But you had next to no time to think about it when you were rushed offstage and immediately found him in the wings. It surprised you, truly. Unlike Eddie’s stage, yours was more theatrical, with dancers and props and platforms and guitars and pianos and ukuleles—

Essentially, you were not near him at all during your set.

So, when you saw him standing there, hands shoved into his pockets, you couldn’t help but grin and approach him. You thought about hugging him, but restrained yourself. This was a guy you still barely knew. Even Scott seemed to find the whole thing a little odd. And, sure, maybe it was on the outside.

But to you, it just made perfect sense.

God, you felt like a goddamn teenager. A damn child on the playground, running around in a bashful haze. A chase that wasn’t really a chase. If anything, Eddie was giving in to whatever this was. Spending the whole night in his arms, whispering about your lives and the plans you’d made for the upcoming week.

And when you woke up before him, you leaned over to apply your travel-sized Miss Dior perfume. You rearranged your hair, your wrinkled nightgown. Situated yourself back next to him and closed your eyes.

“Did you just…put on perfume?” No response. “I just saw you, you know. Saw the whole fucking thing.” Eddie leaned over, nuzzling his head in your neck. Moaned. “You do smell ravishing, though. Is that Dior?”

Your eyes flew open. “How the fuck do you know that?”

“Ah, look, I caught ya,” he said, causing you to groan and throw your hands over your face. “I like to smell the little perfume and cologne samplers in the magazines, you know?”

You finally looked at him, all droopy-eyed and goofy smile.

“Oh, you’re smart.”

“It’s interactive,” he responded with a shrug. “Can’t pass it up.”

You dressed in silence, making sure his wet jacket had dried without any damage. But before he left, he had the fucking nerve to give your neck one last kiss.

“Don’t try to make yourself something else in the morning.” One last inhale of your scent. “All I want is you, sweetheart. And I want it all.” One last graze of his teeth against your skin. “Don’t hide from me next week, alright?”

One last nod.

One last embrace.

One more moment leaving you in disarray.

You spent the entire week the two of you had off together. And it wasn’t just “hanging out.” No, it was playing card games. Sitting on your balcony with glasses of wine. Watching movies. Making breakfast. Lunch. Dinner. Shared baths and poolside kisses at his house. Meeting his cats and hanging out with Jeff who lived nearby. Sunrises and sunsets.

And in that time, you tried to find things about him that were cringey. Gross. Unsettling.

But it was…impossible.

And on that Friday, you thought you had it. Eddie had ended up back in your California home, tangled beneath the sheets for three hours before you officially tapped out.

He’d turned to you, holding up a joint and his lighter.

“Do you wanna smoke?” he asked.

You grinned. “Absolutely.”

As you threw on a tank top and shorts, you glanced over at his phone resting on the bedside table. You noticed that his phone case was deep charcoal, smattered with tiny red dice, a throne, and a crown. Right there in the center was his band’s name.

That’s it, you told yourself. He’s secretly self-absorbed and thinks too highly of himself. Massive ego. Absolutely insufferable behind closed doors.

But when you turned and asked, he looked…slightly embarrassed?

“It must seem so pretentious, right?” he said, pulling up his gray sweatpants. “I know. But really, I just like the cool art. I worked with the artist about a year ago and, I don’t know, I think it’s fucking awesome. And I got the whole band matching ones with little individual stuff to match their D&D characters.” He smiled as he spoke. “The guys got so excited. They’ve all got ‘em still.”

He shrugged, plugging it into the charger.

“That’s…actually really cool,” you said truthfully.

“Yeah?” He turned back. “You don’t think it’s weird?”

“Not when it means something to you,” you replied. “I just wish you’d be a little bit awful.”

That’s when you saw him smile, taking a step forward. “Why’s that?”

“So I have a reason not to like you as much as I do,” you said.

And you hated yourself for saying it. But there was just this thing he did where he made you tell the truth. It wasn’t even an impulse; it was as if it was instinct. Like your body didn’t have a choice. It just knew.

“I can be gross if you need a reason to go,” he suggested. “But just so you know, I’d prefer you didn’t.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What’s so gross about you?”

“Uh, I pick my nose.”

“Like everyone else.”

“I have the most iconic burps but the deadliest farts.” You couldn’t help the giggle that left your lips. “I’m awful about doing my own laundry. I have a lot of ass hair. Like, it’s almost a problem. My nails are wrecked from all the guitar playing.” He lifted his fingers, showing off his chipped polish and crooked fingernails. “Oh, and if I eat even, like, a bite of a burrito, I’m in the bathroom for an hour.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again. He really was just a normal person.

“Let’s go outside,” he suggested. “If I don’t have a joint and a cigarette, I think I might fall over and die.”

You followed him, heading down the wooden stairs, all the while saying, “You shouldn’t smoke cigarettes. Your poor little metal vocal cords must be suffering.”

Eddie threw up his hands. “Hey, I went down from five a day to one. Doesn’t that count for literally anything?”

“The jury’s still out,” you teased. “Also, for the record, I don’t think your ass is too hairy.”

“That’s because you haven’t seen it unwaxed, sweetheart.”

You opened the French doors. “I shiver at the thought of that being someone’s job.”

“Oh no?” he asked from behind you, grabbing your ass. You yelped as he added, “You don’t wanna do it next time?”

“Absolutely not.”

You grew quiet as you lit up, Eddie showing off his special lighter. It was a different look for him, some kind of flower sprouting from an orange liquid. Tangerine bulbs. A sage green top with a golden rim. A gift from his uncle, he told you. Given to him after his father died.

“Can I ask something true?” you asked as soon as he was done explaining.

You couldn’t understand why you felt so nervous to have questions. It was all you ever did these days, in between kisses and meals. During cheesy rom-coms and horror films. In the shower, over text. Anything and everything seemed to be laid out in front of you, no matter what. Eddie was an open book.

“Always,” he answered.

“Do you think about your parents a lot?” you asked.

“Not always,” he responded. “I mainly just wonder what their relationship was like.”

“What do you mean?”

“We kinda fall in line with what our parents lay out for us, don’t we?” he questioned, taking another hit. “Like, I’ve never had a relationship last or really had something special. And my parents had to be happy some of the time at least. Right?”

You didn’t say anything, still trying to follow his train of thought.

“I have to wonder if, like, we just end up as unhappy as them. Like, in the end, we really do die all alone. We’re not built to stay happy.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “You don’t think you could be happy with someone long-term?”

The pit in your stomach worsened as you realized you were really asking, You don’t think you could be happy long-term with me?

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I guess I just have always felt like, when I die, I’ll look back and realize that I never got the chance to be someone’s first choice.”

Before you could think, you said, “Maybe you just haven’t been given the chance.”

He looked at you.

And there was that spark, crackling in your abdomen. In your fingers. In your head. That moment when you knew that this had become something more. You’d gone on and on, day after day with his body here, his hands and fingertips lingering on every surface. Sitting at your kitchen table. Fingers pressed against buttons on remotes. Another set of hands to help you make the bed.

This man who you couldn’t help but feel a certain word towards.

That dangerous fucking word you’d never utter to yourself.

Eddie blinked several times before he became very interested in his socked feet. So you looked down, watching him fidget by wiggling his toes.

“You doing anything fun after tour?”

“I’m going to Pittsburg to see a few of my friends,” you explained. “We’ll probably go to some frat party.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “A college party?”

You shrugged, taking the joint. “They all go there. It’s actually fun to pretend I actually went.”

“Can’t blame you,” he said with a nod. “I didn’t get my GED until, like, a year after we really got big.”

Eyes widening, you nearly coughed out your hit. “Really?”

“Yeah. Fuck high school.”

You nodded. “Fuck high school indeed.”

“Don’t miss me too much while you’re out being a cool college kid.”

You snorted. “Oh, wow. Playing the missing game?"

“Why, you scared you’ll lose?”

You shrugged, shying away from him. But he had other plans, resting his hands on your hips before bringing you closer. Lips meeting the shell of your ear as he whispered, “I have a feeling you’ll never say it, but I will. I think you’re gonna win.”

“What makes you so sure?” you whispered back, breath hitching in your throat as he left a trail of kisses down your neck. The high was intensifying the sensation, each touch more sensitive than the last. You didn’t last long, mewling in his arms as you felt yourself go limp.

“Trust me, sweetheart,” he murmured, tightening his grasp on you. “You don’t even have to tell me. I just know.”

Eddie had to leave soon after that, needing to feed his cats.

You didn't mind, still out on the balcony. Deep in thought as the world hazed around you. And as soon as you were left to your own devices to parse your emotions, they began to swallow you.

See, you wouldn’t consider yourself a train wreck. No, you’d already been around too many. Something in you considered yourself the wreckage, the carnage in the aftermath. A burning storm, a flurry of ash. Standing in the center, surrounded by the flames. Who would come back to you after all that? Who would stand by you while you put yourself back together again? And who would stay?

There was no dark side to Eddie, no indication that there was something wrong with him. He had his moments, sure, but he was human. He was bound to have things that faltered. It never made you feel like there was something to send you running. And maybe that’s what was starting to hurt the most. Because what if someone caught you? What if someone had seen you in Vegas? Indianapolis? Seattle?

And it was in that moment, as you stared up at the moonlight, that you realized that this secret was the only thing keeping you together. What happened next if the press found you out? If the world looked at you, the woman who dated everyone, standing hand-in-hand with him, the man who dated everyone. Where would you be able to stand? Would it be a foundation you could build together? Or would one of you eventually find it too hard to cope with?

Would Eddie still stay?

You sighed, shoving your hands into your pockets. But your fingers wrapped around something lightweight, pulling it out to find Eddie’s lighter.

You grabbed your phone and texted him.

You left your lighter!

His response was immediate.

keep it safe for me, sweetheart. i’ll come back for it. and you. promise.

credit to @strangergraphics for this divider because it inspired me so heavily :')

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie x reader #Eddie Munson x female reader #boyfriend!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar!Eddie x reader #rockstar!Eddie x you #modern!Eddie x you #boyfriend!Eddie x reader #i'll pay the price you won't series

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jamespottersmixtape · 1 year ago

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september 12: iced 1,742 words @rosekiller-microfic

Barty really needs caffeine. Evan works at a small coffee shop.

It's an incredibly average Tuesday when Barty manages to make a fool out of himself and fall in love on the same day.

Well, the whole thing isn't as dramatic as he makes it out to be, but he isn't known for being subtle with his retellings.

Barty had thought he'd be fine—running on two hours of sleep was perfectly reasonable for sitting through a 3 hour business lecture, right?

Did he mention that he was a fool?

Whether by luck or fate or the incessant blaring of Barty's alarm clock, he had managed to crawl out of bed early enough for his 9am class—calculations and formulas and useless information on the status of the economy still swirling through his brain from the night before.

However, what his sleep deprived brain had failed to remember was that Barty lived off caffeine. Nothing would get done in a day if he hadn't downed at least 2 cups of coffee or the strongest black tea he could find. Dorcas always told him it was an addiction; he never listened.

So at 8:50 he trudged across campus and sat down heavily in the back of the lecture hall, mentally preparing himself for 3 torturous hours of his professor's monotonous voice, with absolutely no caffeine in his system. A mistake on his part.

It wasn't until he awoke at 11:55, the feeling of someone nudging his shoulder enough to rouse him from a dreamless sleep, that he finally realized this mistake. He had slept through the entire fucking lecture.

And it wasn't him dozing off halfway through, fighting diligently not to nod off. No, as soon as his professor began speaking Barty's head was on the desk, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he slept soundly on the uncomfortable wood. Frankly, he was mortified.

That brings him to now, briskly walking through the sea of students milling about between classes, his finger scrolling quickly through the selection of local coffee shops.

He still has two more classes, there's no way he'll survive without something helping him stay awake.

His eyes scan his phone screen, looking at distances and reviews until he settles on a place not too far from the North corner of campus—Twin Flame Coffee & Co.

He supposes it'll do.

Barty arrives in record time, his long legs carrying him faster than average. The building is quaint but lively, cream walls with colorful chairs out front—Barty's surprised he hadn't found it sooner.

When he pushes open the door a small bell rings overhead. There's not too many people, a few students with their laptops and an old couple sharing a pastry, but there's someone ordering and he can't see the register.

He scans the menu just long enough to make sure they serve the drink he wants, and only looks down when it's his turn.

He means to step forward but the movement gets halted as soon as his eyes lock on the person working. In front of him is a boy about his age, wispy blonde curls and bright eyes, a winning smile directed right at Barty as he waits patiently for him to approach. He has freckles scattered loosely across his face and neck, disappearing beneath the tank-top he's wearing. Is that even work appropriate? he thinks.

There are at least a dozen tattoos littering his arms—nowhere near the amount Barty has, but enough—and his skin looks soft enough that biting it would leave a mark. Suddenly Barty's throat feels impossibly dry.

"How can I help you?" the boy says, and oh Jesus fucking Christ he sounds like heaven too. Barty is a goner.

Suddenly his brain is on high alert, catching up with the fact that he's been staring at this guy for at least 5 seconds. He shakes his head and approaches the register, his legs shakier than before.

The boy's smile is unwavering, yet he seems amused at Barty's slow uptake. Barty swears his eyes flick up and down Barty's figure, but quickly pushes that thought aside.

"Hi," Barty says flatly. He's lucky his voice doesn't crack but god, could he sound any more unapproachable?

"Hi," the boy says, levity clear on his face now. "What can I get started for you?"

"Uh, can I just have a large latte?"

"Large latte," the boy repeats, punching something onto a screen. "Anything else?"

"No, that's it," Barty replies. "Thank you," he adds, trying his hardest to remain calm.

He tries to smile but it definitely looks strange. Their eyes meet briefly and he has to physically restrain himself from doing something very fucking stupid. Like telling him he's pretty. Or begging for his number.

Yeah, he's fucked.

"Okay, can I have a name for that?"

"Um..." can he even remember his own name? Probably not. He wants to learn his name but can't see a name tag. Damn. "Barty," he finally gets out. "My name is Barty."

The boy laughs, his face becoming even lovelier in the process. Clearly, Barty's repeated blundering is funny to him. "Alright Barty, that'll be ready on the side for you," the boy flashes him another smile. Barty pulls out his wallet to pay, disappointed at the short interaction, but as he's inserting his card he notices the boy grabbing a cup for hot drinks.

"Shit, sorry," Barty starts, unprepared for any further conversation. "Did I say hot? I meant iced. Large iced latte."

The boy's hand stills from where it was prepared to write Barty's order. "Oh! That's fine, it's the same price."

He grabs a clear plastic cup instead, scribbling on it before passing it to a girl with similar colored hair. They look related, Barty thinks.

Barty pulls his card out, payment finished. This is where he's supposed to walk away and wait for his drink like any other customer. But, well, there's no one behind him, and he really wants to find out this guy's name.

"Sorry about that," Barty scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. His stomach swoops every time he looks at the boy's face. He really is gorgeous. "It's been a weird day."

"Hard classes?" the boy asks, placing his hands on the counter, drumming his fingers.

Barty's eyes widen, taken aback that he was asked a question. He clears his throat. "Nah, not really. I slept through my entire first lecture."

"Wow." the boy deadpans.

"Yeah," Barty huffs out a small laugh. "3 whole hours of sleep. At least it was a good nap," he shrugs.

The boy laughs again, louder this time. Barty really wouldn't mind making it happen again. "3 hours? I guess you really need this latte."

Barty groans, rubbing his hand over his face. "Tell me about it. I forgot to make coffee this morning."

The boy purses his lips, "Glad we could help then."

Barty stands there awkwardly for a moment. He wants to stay and talk, he wants to know everything there is to know about this boy—his name, for starters. Ten minutes ago he was blissfully oblivious to his existence, but he's enlightened now, and there's no way he's forgetting him.

Maybe he's a fool, it's been said before.

"I've uh– it's my first time here. It's nice, I can't believe I've never seen this place before."

The boy hums, nodding. "Well, my sister and I," he gestures to the girl making drinks, "We only opened this place a few weeks ago. It's gotten a fair bit of traction, so that's been nice. But it's new, so don't worry, you haven't been missing out for too long," he shoots Barty a wink and he swears his heart nearly stops.

"Oh," Barty chuckles, his voice higher than normal. "Well maybe I'll come back then." He's testing the waters, trying to read if this guy even cares about his existence outside of an obligation to his job.

"I hope so, would be a shame if this was the last time I saw you," the boy says, leaning forward on the counter. And what? That had to be flirting, right? Right? The boy's eyes rake over his torso in a much more obvious manner, taking time to fully appreciate his appearance.

Barty wants to say something but he finds he's too incoherent to string words together. "Yes," he says lamely. "Yeah, yes. I'll definitely be back."

"I'm looking forward to it," the boy replies, flashing him another grin.

"Here," the girl—his sister—says, passing her brother Barty's drink. The pair seem to have an entire conversation with their eyes, never saying a word out loud. At the end of the exchange, the boy lets out a frustrated sigh. She offers Barty a quick smile before turning swiftly on her heel and disappearing behind a curtain.

The boy holds his drink out. "Here's your iced latte."

Barty's cheeks flush at the reminder of his mistake, taking the coffee and straw from his grasp. If their fingers brush and Barty's face glows pink, nobody has to know.

Barty sticks the straw in the cup, taking a quick sip and practically moaning right in front of the poor man. "Fuck, that's good coffee. You'll be lucky if you don't see me here everyday."

"The coffee's the only reason, huh? It's that good?" the boy asks, raising an eyebrow.

Barty smirks, shrugging as he takes another sip. "Among other things," he says, noticing a faint blush creep up the boy's neck and cheeks. The color reminds him of a rose.

The bell above the door rings faintly, signaling a new customer. Barty spares a quick glance at his phone, the time signaling he only has half an hour before his next class. He reluctantly takes a step back towards the door. "I should probably head out."

"It was nice meeting you Barty," the boy tells him, offering another dazzling smile. Barty has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop from smiling back like an idiot.

"You too. I'll see you around, uh..." he hesitates, praying to all that is holy that this infuriatingly attractive boy will finally give him his name.

He rolls his eyes, but Barty can tell it's amiable. "Evan," he fills in. "My name is Evan."

Barty can't help it, a painfully lovestruck grin splits across his face. Evan.

Evan, Evan, Evan.

He likes the way it sounds in his head. Likes it even more when he tells him, "I'll see you around Evan," and walks out the door.

#this WAS NOT meant to be this long #was anyone shocked?#I wasn't #COFFEE SHOP ROSEKILLER #something we need more of #barty's a total loser I love him #evan's just pretty but we knew this #barty “whipped from first sight” crouch jr.#rosekiller #rosekiller microfic #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #barty x evan #evan x barty #rat's silly microfics

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tadpolesonalgae · 2 years ago

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Modern YA! Azriel x reader - Good, Little, Girl <3 part 2

-Part 1- -Part 3-

How naïve could you be?

He ground his teeth, thinking what could have happened if you’d gone back to another man’s house.

It was a little unhealthy, how much he was obsessing over that, and he knew it. It’d just been so long since he’d felt a more than platonic pull toward someone. Sexual was fine. Sexual, he knew how to handle. But romantic? Fuck that.

The image of you hesitantly reaching for his jacket reappeared in his mind, how you’d taken a few cautious steps foreword, scared he’d pounce. A smile tipped his mouth. Even if he had pissed you off by acting like a hormonal douche bag, he’d seen that side which, according to how you’d been acting the past month, you didn’t pull out unless you had to. Meaning few other people had seen it at all.

Pulling himself from his thoughts, he made his way out into the hallway, wanting to make sure you found your way to the bathroom.

He froze in the doorway.

Your skirt was hiking up the backs of your bare thighs, showing off soft, unmarked skin. Eyes involuntarily trailing higher, higher, until he met a thin line of cream lace, blending into clean, white cotton.

Jesus Christ.

The muscles of your thighs flexed, before you were snapping up and spinning around, eyes catching his.

“What the hell was that?” Even to his own ears he sounded somewhat breathless. Your eyes were flitting frantically across the room, set on landing anywhere but him as a deep flush bloomed across the crest of your cheeks. “I was just—” you held up the pair of tights, “—picking these up,” you squeaked, eyes flicking to meet his for barely a second before they were darting away again.

You cleared your throat, lifting your chin in an attempt to look dignified after you literally just flashed the poor man, “I’m just…going to—” you hurriedly span on your feet, heading swiftly toward the bathroom.

————

The material was surprisingly warm, swallowing you in a mouthful of thick, dark cotton that brushed over your bare skin. He wouldn’t mind you not wearing a bra, right? Yours was soaked, and surely he wouldn’t want his jumper getting wet… besides, there was nothing inherently bad about nipples. Men had them too.

Still…

You bundled it up in your other clothes, keeping it hidden as you unlocked the door, quietly padding down the stairs in search of Azriel.

First, you went into the kitchen-slash-living-room-area (KSLRA - it was too much of a mouthful otherwise), wondering if there was a place to hang your clothes to dry. “Looking for something?” You startled, turning to see him leaning casually in the doorway, hands in his pockets. He gave you a single glance over.

A bit dismissive, but okay.

“I was wondering if—” he rose a single brow disapprovingly. Heat washed down the back of your neck, fingers tightening on the damp clothes. “I…would like somewhere to hang these? To dry?” He sighed, pushing off from the door frame, coming to a stop in front of you, so much taller.

“I’ll take them,” he said simply, holding out his hands for you to dump the clothes into. The heat rose to your ears as you too a small step back, bringing the bundle closer to you, “it’s okay, I’ll hang them up,” you managed, not quite meeting his eye. He cocked a brow, a teasing grin playing on his mouth, “worried I’ll nose at your underwear?” Your lips parted in shock, hugging the bundle closer self-consciously, “stop saying things like that,” you muttered, avoiding his keen gaze, “besides, I’m capable of performing basic household chores.”

He drank in your embarrassment like it was fine ambrosia, unable to help how his curiously dipped to your hips - that were covered completely. Maybe he wasn’t at good at handling his sexuality as he’d previously thought. Well, shit.

Azriel huffed a laugh, “why am I not surprised a good girl like you refuses to let anybody do anything for her?”

When he’d spotted you in his kitchen, looking around, the first thing he’d taken in was how the hem of his jumper - that usually rested fairly snuggly around his hips - was swaying comfortably just below the swell of your ass, the material stretching ever so slightly to make accommodations. The arms and torso section were far too large, and he’d probably have to wash it once you left, though he found himself not really minding.

Kind of liking it, actually.

Having your scent on his clothes.

“Stop calling me names. It’s childish and unnecessary,” you spoke firmly, though you looked a little nervous. His mouth tipped upward, “now you’re getting the hang of it.”

————————

When you did eventually manage to arrange all your clothes so your bra was hidden, you turned to find him sprawled casually across one of the large sofas, clicking through some things in the TV. He caught you looking, switching his attention in favour of you, “what d’you fancy?”

Cautiously, you made your way over to the sofa, glancing around before carefully sliding over the broad armrest, sitting at the opposite end, tucking yourself neatly into its corners. “I’m fine with anything,” you spoke, “you choose.” It was then your eye caught in the drop-down to switch accounts, brow furrowing. “Which reminds me, I thought you lived with your friends?”

His eyes were already on you when you sent him and inquisitive glance. “Rhys and Cass? They’re my brothers. And they’re out tonight. A party downtown,” he explained, watching you for something. Your brow furrowed, “I wouldn’t have thought you were related, you all look so different,” you mused softly.

“We don’t share parents,” he replied, making you tilt your head in confusion. “I thought you said you were siblings?” His features remained neutral, if a little withdrawn. Had you said something? “They’re my chosen family.”

Oh.

“You’ve never been that close with someone?” He asked in return. You pursed your lips, a little embarrassed you hadn’t caught on sooner, “no. Though, I’ve read about stuff like that…I guess?” You resisted the urge to cool your cheeks with your hands. He inclined his chin in silent curiosity. “You know, like…found family? The trope? In books?”

“Ah, you read.” You nodded hesitantly. “What sort of things?”

“I like fantasy things. I don’t have any siblings so it was nice to fill my time with something like that,” you supplied, thinking about the afternoons you spent in the summer, sprawled out on the lawn, reading and rereading anything and everything you could get your hands one.

“Do you and your brothers have any activities you like to do together? Shared hobbies?” You inquired, curious to know if he liked things outside of going to various house parties. His grin was slow and wicked, “you could say that.” He was practically daring you to ask. You were almost certain the answer would be just as shocking as everything else he’d done this evening. A small, hidden away, part of you wanted to know. “Like…what?” Why did you feel breathless?

“Is the good girl getting curious?” He drawled, his voice sending a small tingle of excitement down your back. Your brow narrowed, “you know how I feel about that.” Your scowl morphed into your own subtly mocking expression, “there a reason you’re too shy to tell me?”

Azriel shifted on the sofa, moving to sit up right, leaning forward a little, “well, it’s got something to do one of those rumours you’ve supposedly heard,” he smirked. Dick. “I’m sure a clever girl like you can piece something dirty enough together to preoccupy your mind.” He turned his attention back to the TV, “now, choose something before I put on a film that will send you diving under the bed covers.”

That was a lot to unpack.

You scowled, “what? Just because I’m a girl you think I can’t take horror?” In a fit of bravery you crawled across the expanse of the sofa to him, snatching the remote from his hand. Sitting up on your knees, one hand braced against the back of the sofa to steady yourself, you began searching for something to watch. “I never said anything about horror, clever little thing.” You gave him a puzzled look, to which he smirked, making it all click.

“For god’s sake,” you muttered under your breath. “Are you always this…lewd?” You switched your attention away from him, scanning through the shows though you accidentally mis-clicked, going down into the ‘continue watching’ section. “I think you bring out the worst in me,” he drawled and you could feel his attention on you, “you’re just so easy to tease.”

You sent him a glare, before stopping on a particular programme. “Adventure Time?” You looked him over; he seemed to sit up straighter. “I’ve been rewatching it,” he supplied, offering you a charming grin you weren’t quite prepared for, settling back down into your knees while watching him suspiciously. “Isn’t it a little PG for your tastes?”

“I can be PG when necessary. You seem to be a very PG person,” he replied smoothly. Now you were scanning all his words for double meanings, which was ridiculous. Still, you narrowed your eyes at him, “what’s that supposed to mean, Azriel?” His eyes flicked to yours at the use of his name. “Means you’re a kind and lovely person.” The look he was giving you told you he was lying. You chose to move past that one, clicking on the show to start watching it.

“Want a blanket?” He asked, already reaching forward to grab to dark cover. “Sure…” you looked at him curiously as he draped it over you instead of just handing it to you, “…thanks.”

“Now you just sound ungrateful.”

“Good thing I’m not trying to please you,” you snapped back, untucking your legs from beneath you, curling up beneath the blanket.

When you finally focused on the TV, you realised it was already partially through the episode. “Where’s the remote? I’ll rewind it,” he asked from beside you, sitting up in order to search for the small device. “Oh, don’t,” you murmured, pressing your hand over his absently to stop him from changing anything, “I love this one.” You’d already been pulled back into the Adventure Time world.

“I remember watching this over and over again as a kid,” you whispered, reminiscing. “You like this one?” He asked, though his attention wasn’t really on the TV. You nodded, still enraptured in the episode. It had been so long since you’d seen it. Maybe it would be healthy to rewatch it, relive some of those comforting times.

“Any particular reason?” He pressed, keeping still beside you, which you appreciated. It got a little annoying when people kept shifting about, or going up and down to get things. “The song,” you mumbled, “I used to reply it all the time. I absolutely loved his voice, and how they interacted.” You knew he was grinning.

“TV crush?”

Your eyes tore themselves from the screen, “can you blame me? Listen to him!” His mouth lifted into a smile, a gleam in his eyes.

“So you’re a voice type of girl?”

You rolled your eyes, “we’re not going into that.”

He looked at you curiously, “into what?”

“People’s types.”

“Why not?” He questioned, but you shushed him, frowning and waving your hands lightly in his direction, making him laugh, lowly. You returned your attention to the TV. “Come on, why not?” He pushed, a chuckle in his voice as you glared at him. “Because the song’s going to start, and I’ll make you rewind if I miss a second of it.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Do you remember all the words?” You turned to him, exasperated, though he didn’t seem to mind, “of course I do.”

He smiled mischievously, “great. Sing along.”

You glared at him, “no way!”

“Why not? Scared?” He teased. At the slightly humiliated look you gave him, the glint in his eyes sobered, “I won’t make fun of you if you can’t sing for shit,” he spoke gently.

You still looked hesitant.

“Come on, it’ll be fun.” He gave an apologetic look, “you know what that is, right?” You gasped, swatting his arm, “rude.” He smiled, “come on, I’ll be going first, anyway,” he reasoned.

“Who says I don’t want to sing the male part?” You pushed, just for the sake of it. He grinned, “you want to go first?” When you pursed your lips, he nodded, “thought not.”

You exhaled heavily, collapsing into the sofa, “promise you won’t laugh.”

“Why would I laugh? How do you know I don’t have an awful voice?”

You scoffed, “please, there’s no way you’re anything but perfect.” A hint of colour touched the crests of his cheeks, a matching shade flushing your own as you stared at each other. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have suggested it,” you hurriedly tagged on the end. He hummed, the pleasant timbre of his voice sending a— doing nothing to you, a voice quickly corrected.

“I think you’d enjoy it. You won’t know unless you find out,” he proposed. “Besides, if you’re into voices nearly as much as you’ve suggested so far, you’ll be crawling onto—”

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

“Sing with me?”

You gave him a heated look, to show your displeasure. Though you were definitely enjoying yourself.

“Crawling onto my c—”

“Fine! Fine! Stop!” You smacked his shoulder before slumping down into the sofa, covering your heated face with your hands, “Jesus Christ.”

The music started in the background.

“You know that’s my line, little thing,” he teased, goading you to look at him but you only slumped further into the sofa, unable to look at him.

You froze when you felt his hands wrap around your wrists, gently prying them from your face.

“Good, little, girl,” he cooed, his voice a melodic drawl, “always picking a fight with me. You know that I’m bad,” he sang, looking intently into your eyes as you allowed him to pull your hands from your heated cheeks, “but you’re spending the night with me.” A devious grin spread across his mouth as that line, making you want to scowl. Much to your dismay, you ended up smiling.

“What—” his voice had deepened to a honey-like purr, “—do you want—” something fluttered in your lower belly, “—from my world? You’re a good, little, girl.” He gave you a wicked grin, the kind that just made you smile instead of glare.

It gave you a strange rush, how close he was.

“Bad—” you emphasised the word, “—little, boy.” His eyes glimmered “That’s what you’re acting like, I really don’t buy—” you leaned in a little closer, “that you’re that kind of guy.” You moved forward onto your hands, “and, if you are—” you smiled, “—why, do you want to hang out with me?” You sat back on your calves, giving up on the ground you had covered, the music continuing on in the background.

Did he follow after you a little?

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” He grinned, moving so that one of his legs was tucked against his broad chest, the other splaying across the sofa, also folded at the knee. “I suppose it was kind of fun,” you admitted, eyes flitting away from his, looking to land on something less intense. Less attractive.

He frowned, noticing your skittish eyes. “Are you anxious about something?”

You shook your head, trying to meet his gaze, “no…” He gave you a look to tell you he didn’t believe you. You narrowed your eyes at him, then sighed in resignation, “it’s getting late…” you began. He glanced over his shoulder to see it was indeed dark out. Had been for a while. “I’m not kicking you out.”

You managed a slight laugh, “I have to leave at some point.” You looked over at your clothes, “you think they’ll be dry? I don’t want to have to walk back in damp clothes.”

“I’m not sending you out into the night in half dried clothes,” his tone completely serious. Was he worried? Of course he was worried, he’d be worried about anyone.

“You could stay the night,” he proposed, casually. Your eyes flicked to his.

“I don’t want to intrude. Besides, won’t your brothers be back at some point? I wouldn’t want to startle them,” you listed off the reasons why you should leave. Azriel gave you a look you couldn’t interpret, shifting on the sofa to sit upright instead of reclining against the broad armrest. “It’s fine, it’s not unusual for one or more of us to have…company,” he hesitated on that last word, watching your eyes.

It seemed to fly straight over your head, his lips twitching.

“No, I’d feel bad. And I should let my flatmates know where I am this late. I said I’d be back before eleven.” You furrowed your brow, “what time is it?”

“Quarter past midnight.”

“Shit.” You pushed up from the sofa - tried to. The moment you set your foot down, the cover got caught between you and the varnished floor, making you slip, falling backward onto the sofa, yelping.

Strong arms caught you, changing your trajectory so you fell neatly into his lap. “Jesus,” you panted, hand over your heart from the near-death experience. “Very smooth, little thing, very smooth indeed,” his words brushed against your nape, making your hairs stand on end. You tried to wriggle out of his lap, but his hands grasped your hips firmly, keeping you planted where you were, “carefull.”

You frowned, “didn’t realise you took being fallen on so personally,” you muttered. “Next time, I’d appreciate you falling for me, rather than on me,” he managed, words a gentle caress of your neck. You scoffed, “first of all, you’re the one who made me fall on you, and second of all, never.”

His grip on your hips lessened, giving you the chance to gently push forward to crawl out of his lap, before turning to face him. “You good, now?” He nodded, though his gaze was heavy. “I’ll go see if my clothes are dry,” you hastily fed into the silence, hopping up from the couch, carefully, and heading over to the drying rack.

Sighing, “they’re still a little damp, but they’ll be fine, I guess…” you removed the items, hanging them over your arm, intending on changing. “Just pop the skirt on. Don’t bother with the rest,” he called to you, making you freeze, heat climbing up your neck. “Azriel!” He arched a brow in question, mentally replaying his words. A grin spread across his mouth, “I meant on top of what you’re already wearing.” He moved so he was looking over the sofa back, palm propping his cheek, “but feel free to surprise me.”

You huffed, before moving to the hallway, aiming for the stairs. Maybe swinging your hips a little more than necessary.

When you reached the bathroom door, palm poised to press down on the handle, he called after you. “Get changed in my room. I want to brush my teeth.” You were about to snap a reply, but it was his house. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah?” He replied, coming up the stairs. “Weird question, but okay.”

You tilted your head, then, “no— are you fine with me changing in your room,” you laughed, “I wasn’t questioning your hygiene habits, Azriel.” His eyes zapped to your mouth when you said his name.

“Azriel?”

He coughed, breaking out of whatever train of thought he’d hopped on. “Are you sure you’re fine with me changing in your room?” His brow furrowed, “why wouldn’t I be?” He asked it like it was the simplest thing in the world. “Aren’t you worried I’ll snoop through your things?” His hand rubbed the back of his neck, eyes flicking away from you as he blew out a breath, returning his eyes to you, “I mean, you can? If you’d like? You just might be a little traumatised after.”

Your brow dipped deep, “‘traumatised’? Your room smelt too clean to have a dead body in it, so I doubt it’s that bad?”

He laughed.

A look of concern crossed your features, “Azriel?”

“No, I don’t have a dead body in my room, that would be impractical,” he reassured. You didn’t look convinced, “no, it’s just…” he sighed, “just get changed. If you see anything, that’s your own fault and what you get for snooping.” You looked positively distrustful. “You know, I could just wait until you’ve finished brushing your teeth. I don’t have to get changed now.” The fucker rolled his eyes, “I promise it’s not that bad, just hurry on. You said you were supposed to be back over an hour ago.”

You fumbled for your phone, pulling out from the waist of the tights. “What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna—” you nearly dropped the phone, “—text my flatmates. Let them know I’ll be back a little later. And that everything’s fine.” He watched as your nose scrunched a little in concentration, squinting at the harsh electronic light. He sighed to himself, walking over to you before splaying his hands across your shoulders, making you jump, “and what are you doing?”

“Since you apparently can’t text and walk at the same time, I’m guiding you to my bedroom,” he supplied smoothly. You huffed as you fired off the message as he gently pushed you over the threshold, shutting the door behind you.

————————

He knocked on the door, “you ready?”

A muffled, and a bit of a breathless, “almost!” Came through the door. “I thought you were just slipping into that skirt?” He called, leaning against the doorframe, an idea popping into his head, “unless…you had a look around?”

“No?” The reply was too quick, making him grin. What had the little thing stumbled upon? Of course, he had no actual confirmation—

The handle turned, revealing you, cheeks flushed, the rest of your clothes folded neatly in your arms as you hurried out of his room, almost smacking into him as soon as you turned to head down the corridor. That was all the confirmation he needed.

He leant over, hunching until he was able to look you in the eye, very close, “what did you find, little thing?” You flushed more, backing up a few steps hurriedly, “nothing. What makes you think I saw anything, or even had an interest in looking in the first place?” He cocked his head, a satisfied smirk on his mouth, hands tucking into his sweat pants pockets. Your quickly averted your eyes as he stood back up to his full height. “Have I scared the little lamb off?”

You levelled him with a scathing glare, “stop that.”

“What would you prefer? ‘Little goat’?”

“Little goat?” You repeated, astonished.

“They have horns, to hit you with when they’re pissed,” he tucked his hands into his hair, sticking his index fingers up. “If I’m a goat, then you’re a…” your eyes flickered around, trying to find something appropriate. “I’m a…?” He pressed, giving you a cocky look.

“A…” you stumbled, not knowing what to say. “Radish!” You exclaimed, triumphantly. “You’re a radish!”

Azriel gave you an unimpressed look, “a radish?” You nodded eagerly, “ because I hate them, but goats eat them. Could probably swallow one in five minutes. You’d be a goner,” you grinned, convinced you’d outsmarted him.

Now…

…he knew what you meant. Knew how you’d meant it. Knew what you hadn’t meant.

Still, heat flared within him, stretching in anticipation. He couldn’t resist. “I’d like to think I’d last longer than five minutes,” he purred, leaning in as his shadow enveloped you, “but anytime you want to try swallowing me, you’re more than welcome.”

Your mouth dropped open as he stood back up, turning to walk back along the corridor as if nothing had happened. When he reached the staircase and noticed you weren’t following him, he turned, throwing you an arrogant grin, “something on your mind?” You stormed down the hallway, brushing past him and heading down the stairs, stopping at the bottom to harshly tie your shoes, heat crawling beneath your skin.

You grabbed your bag from the floor, tugged your scarf from the hook, flinging it over your shoulders before you turned for the door, opening it. “Goodnight, Azriel.” Shutting the door gently. You didn’t want to damage the lock.

#azriel #Azriel acotar #acotar #good little girl

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arcsin27 · 2 years ago

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Reviewing all the stories in junji ito maniac because I can, fuck you :)

The strange hikizuri siblings - uhh okay. Not scary nothing even happened. Okay a guy was a jealous simp, little kids are just like that, some guy threw up bread dough ig, then a ghost stared at everyone for a while and dipped the end

The story of the mysterious tunnel - Jesus Christ that was pretty spooky what the hell. Lost my marbles when he assumed the drop was water, and the kid in the ceiling fucked me up with her voice (dub) and screams

Ice cream bus - im never eating ice cream again. Jokingly compared the driver to William afton fnaf in the beginning but he was somehow worse. The dad pushing the kid away jumpscared me, then horrified me, and I needed a break from the show

Hanging balloon - so absurd it was kinda funny. The nonlinear storytelling added a bit if spook as I slowly realized who was at the window but idk the concept was just funny to me. Also I was so happy someone finally showed up to a horror plot strapped until I saw the result. Sorry random Chad with a crossbow, wish you coulda helped…

Four x four walls - thought something horrific would happen outside and he wouldn’t hear it but it didn’t, thought soichi was famous for being scary but he wasnt, I think this was like a comic relief in episode form. No spook, kinda funny

The sandman’s lair - *laughs nervously* what the fuck. No clue what happened, why would you tape yourselves like that, let me see his dream form damnit, the nature of humanity is we reinvent homestuck etc

Intruder - these kids are based tbh. Balls of steel, don’t blame the redhead, just move on with their lives

Long hair in the attic - also based, i had wondered where her head had gone but i shoulda known by the title, that grinding sound pissed me off tho

Mold - thank. God. It was in black and white. I choose to believe its dust. Also idc about culture or taboo if your floor is coated in inches of ropes and pools of mold just wear your damn shoes. Jesus Christ

Library vision - this one felt like it was calling out all of my anxieties about losing the things and memories precious to me. Also 10/10 Sean chiplock that final recital of hell of thorns was incredible and spooky. Also what the fuck was the ending

Tomb town - im never driving again. Also just call the cops surely you get a reduced sentence for actually reporting the crime. Other than that not scary lol

Layers of terror - im never picking my skin again. god ALMIGHTY why did i bear witness to this. Fuck that mom bro she sucks. I was thinking about how the proportions of human anatomy change as you age and how a toddler with such short limbs and a thick torso could fit inside an adult but uh… then they answered my question. And then it got worse. Funnily enough the 2yo looked like a monster id design

The thing that drifted ashore - was this supposed to be scary…? Oh boy they turned into fish people and promptly fucked off good for them ig

Tomie • photo - wow what bitches lmfao. Idk why she has a face growing out of her scalp hut I didn’t need to see the removal process. Or how botched the removal process was. Based that the photographer just fuckin moved on. “Damnit the blood ruined my pictures :/“ incredible.

Unendurable labyrinth - probably woulda been scarier if they were lost for longer but to me it looked like they took five steps, found the brother, seven steps, “aaaah we’re lost,” two steps, “theyre looking at me!” then suddenly the mummies have eyes, fade to black. Cool

The bully - I was sooo ready for retribution, then I got reconciliation and got even happier, then it turned into child abuse and I wanted to kill a bitch

Alley - pfft idk if its based that she killed those kids or not but it was extra based that they got revenge on her lmao shoulda brought a ladder bro

Headless statue - Jesus fuck that’s gross. Stop it. Also smash the statues again it worked brilliantly earlier. Or maybe jump out a window idk

Whispering woman - mega based. The nervous girl gains support and confidence, the attendant is freed from her abusive friend, the abusive friend gets violently killed, its just wins all around

Soichi’s beloved pet - once again a comic relief episode but tbh it was pretty funny, soichi was a lot less hateable this time too!

#junji ito #horror #long post #junji ito maniac #japanese tales of the macabre #review

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strangersails · 10 months ago

Text

part two of “billy tries so hard not to fall in love with steve (and fails)”.

“look, i know i’m an asshole” billy says, still so close to him. “and i know apes have better mannerism than i have, that i look like i don’t give a shit. but that. is nothing personal. okay? i’m just not a people person, i need constant space and i need to leave when things start to feel serious.”

“billy. you don’t even call me by my name. how is that serious?” steve rubs his face with both hands, then he folds his arms on his chest again.

billy takes the hint and takes a step back. “it is to me. i don’t call you steve cause that feels personal. i don’t stay in your bed after we fuck, cause that feels personal. i don’t want to hear your stories, because that feels too personal.”

“and why is that bad?” steve asks.

this also feels too personal, but now it’s too late.

“because if it’s personal, it means that we’re close. and if we’re close...” it takes him a moment to end the sentence, and he can’t do it looking him in the eyes, so he draws them on steve’s hands and then admits, “it means i have something to lose”.

steve tilts his head back, his arms still folded on his chest while he looks at billy. “i get it, but then i don’t understand this: what’s the point? why’d you kiss me?”

which is a fair question, billy’s gotta say it. “i don’t know. i just... i miss you, i told you.” billy is more honest than he thought he would be, but at this point why would he lie? what good would it do? he’d already exposed himself, anyway.

“you mean you miss the sex.”

billy can’t say if it’s a statement or a question, but it pisses him off whether it’s the first or the second. “i mean i missed you, harrington” he says, and he regrets the name almost the exact moment it slips from his lips.

he surely regrets it when the little muscles around the corner of steve’s lips curl and kind of shape it in a little, sad pout.

“look. i’m not gonna lie, i missed the sex too, but do you really think that you’re my only chance to get laid? i don’t just miss you cause you give me the best orgasms.”

“what do you miss, then? what can you possibly miss about me, when you’ve barely treated me like a hole this whole time? i don’t understand.”

billy’s heart sinks at those words. “i know i was a huge asshole and i’m sorry for that. i didn’t really mean to. i was just trying my best not to let you come too close. i know occasional sex can be tricky.”

“answer me. what do you miss, if it’s not just the sex?” steve sound so suspicious, like he’s sure there’s nothing billy could possibly appreciate about him enough for him to miss his presence. billy knows he really fucked up.

he takes a moment before he answer, and he feels steve’s compelling stare. “you smell really nice” he says then. “your breath” he gulps nervously, interrupting himself, “smells nice.” what the fuck, billy. “you like phil collins, which is embarrassing, but it suits you. i know it cause you’ve got all the damn tapes piled up on the desk next to your bed and they once fell on my face when you were pounding me so g—”

“jesus christ shut up.”

“—and your writing is the ugliest, i still got your stupid ice cream shaped little post it with your number on it sticked in the sun visor in my car, but you made that cute little heart drawing with the devil’s horns and tail, i couldn’t physically throw it away.”

“you kept it?”

“yeah.”

“it was a joke, that stupid drawing.” steve’s ears go red.

billy can’t help but grin. “it’s ugly. it’s the wonkiest heart i’ve ever seen.”

steve shoves him gently by the shoulder. “shut up. you kept it.”

“i kept it.” billy curls his finger around the front belt loop of steve’s denim, and tugs him a little closer. he can’t help himself. “i like the fact that you’re a nice person, even though you don’t believe it, for reasons that i ignore.”

billy also ignores the little twitch of steve’s eyebrow that confirms what he just said.

“i like that you’re dyslexic but it pisses me off that you won’t—”

“wait, what?” steve’s face flushes a hot, fluorescent pink while he nervously laughs. “you like that i’m dyslexic? what does that even mean? it doesn’t even sound like a compliment...”

“that’s cause it’s not a compliment” billy lets his fingers graze on steve’s hips only to get to wrap his arms around his tiny waist.

“...”

“i’m not joking, i like it. it’s a steve thing. it’s part of you and it’s... i don’t know. look, i suck at this kind of things. i know you a little, i know how i feel when i’m with you and i kind of miss it.”

steve has his arms folded on his chest between them. he hums. billy would pay to know what’s going on under that nest of messy, fluffy hair. he hates the silence and that stance too. like steve wants to put distance between them. but at the same time he could get rid of billy’s embrace, which he didn’t, and that gives billy a little hope.

“okay” steve says, eventually.

“okay...?” billy repeats prompting him to be more explicit.

“i believe you.”

of fucking course, he wants to say. he didn’t make a fool out of himself admitting all those embarrassing things to him only to be questioned? why would he lie about it, anyway? stupid harrington. he won’t be hearing of any more of those nauseatingly sweet things anytime soon.

“well, thanks” he just says, still a little anxious about what’s coming next. he hopes it’s not a but.

“but” here we go... “i don’t know what you expect from me, then. you want to fuck and then what?”

billy lets out a heavy sigh and lets his hands drop from steve’s waist.

“hey. get back here.” steve doesn’t sound like he’ll accept no's.

so billy gets back to wrap his arms around him, even though his stomach is still tense.

“i did not tell you to get off, did i?” steve sounds dead serious.

billy holds him tighter out of spite. and nostalgy.

steve unfolds his arms and let his hands linger on the other boy’s biceps.

“what do you want to do, billy?” he asks again. “you want to fuck and then what? because if we’re going back to you treating me like a hole we’re not going to—”

“please don’t say that” billy interrupts him.

it’s steve’s turn to sigh, this time. he draws those slender fingers of his on his chest. billy is glad he busts his own ass off in the gym. “alright. but i mean it, we’re not going far if you plan on going back to strangers fifty seconds after you give me the best orgasms of my life.”

billy’s pride sings for a moment, but he still struggles with the rest, so he can’t brag right now.

“look, i get it. boundaries. we can have them, bills. i’m not asking for you to stay the night and hold my hand and sing me to sleep. just. i don’t know.”

billy wants to eat his stupid worried face and shower it with kisses and the thought makes his stomach twist, but what can he do? the other option is going back to being avoided and he hates the thought even more.

“we can hang out sometimes maybe? when i’m not actually busy or something” he tries.

“i mean, you don’t have to” steve don’t look at him in the eyes, like billy’s jacket is too interesting all of the sudden. “i don’t want you to feel forced to do something you don’t want to...”

“it’s not really like i don’t want to, though” he admits.

“it’s not?”

that stupid hopeful face he makes. billy wants once again to skin him alive.

“can i kiss you again?” he asks, before he can hold himself.

steve’s face goes all red again. “you better. you’ll need a lot of those if you want me to forgive you.”

billy leans in and gives a quick peck on his lips, tightening his grip on the boy’s hips. “oh, it’s like that, uh?”

“it’s like that...”

steve says that with the velvetiest voice, and billy chases his lips, catching them on a kiss that soon becomes sloppy and wet and deep, they kiss with tongue and teeth and hot breaths and fingertips. steve makes the most delicious whines, and billy can’t help but pull at his hair, bringing him closer, licking into his mouth and savoring him like it’s the last meal of his life. steve melts into the kiss, billy can feel the way he goes limp against him, the way his arms are hanging loose and relaxed around his shoulders.

“it’s so unfair that you kiss like this and we only started now” steve whines, pinching his nipple as a punishment.

billy flicks his forehead in return. “ow.”

“you owe me a hundred kisses at least, hargrove.”

billy leans in to kiss his lips again briefly. “yeah, yeah, you already said that.”

steve grins from ear to ear, lips stretched against billy’s. billy bite them.

“what the fuck are laughing for?”

“i can’t believe you kept the drawing.”

he regrets it already and makes that obvious rolling his eyes on the back of his skull. “shut up. i’m throwing it in the trash.”

“no you’re not.” steve kisses him.

“no i’m not.”

and steve kisses him again. and then billy is opening his mouth, angling his head just a little to be comfortable to dive into steve’s parted lips again. steve tastes like booze and cigarettes and billy loves it.

they’re never going back to not kissing.

#i don’t really like it but y’all asked for it so here we go #billy is the most oblivious motherfu**er i stg #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #stranger things #*my ficlet #idk bye

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lovebillyhargrove · 1 year ago

Text

Billy's camaro fic/Harringrove Chapter 18

"No ending"

***

Grocery shopping is torture. Basically because his dick is like a fucking rock the entire time they are filling in the cart. It has gone from being hard back to being its usual deflated self multiple times since the blowjob, that happened a couple of hours ago and literally blew his mind.

They don't call it a "blowjob" for nothing, huh.

Steve is suffering, and it's not even funny at this point.

Because the annoying - in the best of ways - asshole Hargrove uses every chance to rile him the fuck up. The languid, promising looks, the occasional light touches, the fucking implications .. like .. he's looking at Harrington and licking his lower lip, lustily, and his gaze slides down to Steve's mouth and then further to his crotch, as if he's whispering in Steve's ear - "Imagine .." - and - of course! - what's a guy supposed to think or .. or do in this situation?

Nothing, really. They're shopping. There are people around. Kids. Steve is aware. It's just that his dick didn't get the memo. To do nothing, not to react in a goddamn crowded store.

Fucking asshole.

Hargrove, obviously, not the penis.

By the time they are at the cash desk Steve's in pain. In physical pain, which is odd because he came not that long ago. He never thought it was possible to miserably suffer from a case of blue balls when you've been having sex for two days in a row.

Yet here he is, squirming and wincing and waiting for the time when they get home so that he can get his hands on Billy, and Billy can get his hands .. or mouth on his throbbing cock. A lick on the ballsack would be nice, too, just to soothe the pain aw ..

Ouch. OUCH.

Shopping is hell, and satan himself is throwing Steve on a frying pan.

Despite the ache, Harrington notices that some people are staring at Billy, one or two even pointing their fingers and whispering behind his back. It isn't surprising. The whole town of Hawkins has seen Billy's picture in the newspapers last July.

Hargrove looks like doesn't care.

Maybe he really doesn't. It'll blow over, fame is one of the most short-lived things anyways.

Steve gets distracted with his thoughts for a minute, but his dick reminds him of its pitiful state. He later finds himself wiggling in the passenger's seat of the camaro, trying to sit in a way so that his entire groin doesn't hurt. He fails.

"Is everything alright, Steve?" - Hargrove is innocently batting his stupid eyelashes

"Yeah, just .."

Billy's throwing a glance down at his fly. The outline betrays Steve on the spot

Steve can swear the asshole is smirking

"You hard, baby?"

"Uh .. what ?! Just drive, would ya?"

And a second later

"Did you just .. did you just call me baby?"

Hargrove's grinning

"Sure did."

Steve's adjusting himself in his pants. He would punch the smug motherfucker if he could. Can't punch Hargrove now though. He's a wounded fucking hero.

Baby.

He likes that.

***

Hallelujah!!

Now they are.

Home.

Steve is the one to "jump Billy's bones" first this time, not even waiting till they get inside the house.

Hargrove's hands are busy with carrying bags. He's just standing there, waiting for Harrington to open the door

But Steve is getting in his face, kissing him, aiming for but unable to put the key in the keyhole

"Jesus Christ, Harrington!! Hold your fucking horses and open the damn door!"

Harrington is whining like a bitch in heat

"No Billy, you don't understand .. I'm in real pain here."

The frigging door is finally open. They get inside, plastic bags rustling

Steve is at it again.

"Billyyy !!??!"

Hargrove's heading into the kitchen.

"The food ! The food, Steve, it needs to be put in the fridge! Ice-cream's gonna melt."

"Oh come the fuck on ..! I didn't even want ice-cream!" - Steve's slamming the door

"Don't like it after Scoops .."

"You wanna help me put everything away?"

Steve's pouting

"I physically can't."

Hargrove is snickering like a complete idiot. He fucking knows what's up.

"For real, Steve? The sooner we get it done, the sooner I can go down on you."

"Just stop with the damn food !!"

"Go upstairs, I'm coming. You wanna take a quick shower first? Get yourself all nice and clean? I promise I'll take care of you soon, baby."

Actually, that's not a bad idea, not at all.

Because Steve can have a sneaky jerk off in the shower, not arousing any unnecessary suspicion.

He runs upstairs, jumps in the shower, clothes on the floor, makes the water just how he likes it, on the verge of hot. Squeezes a drop of shampoo to smooth things down a bit. Gets his hand around his cock. Hell to the fucking yes ..

The curtain is abrubtly being slid to the side.

"The fuck !!?"

Billy's standing there

"Well well well."

Assessing the situation.

"Whatcha doing here, Harrington?"

"Can't you see, dumbass? I've been telling you, I'm sore. It hurts. I need to come."

Billy's breath hitches

"Let me watch."

"Are you out of your .." Steve's huffing, going for the curtain to slide it back where it's supposed to be

However, why the hell not?

"You wanna watch?"

Steve's palm is working up and down his wet cock covered in shampoo foam.

"You wanna watch how I do it, huh? How I .. pleasure myself?"

He slides his hand way down and fondles his aching balls.

"Youu pervert .."

Billy's staring, mouth slightly open.

He gulps and moves his hand towards Steve's dick.

"Can I help, pretty boy?"

It's half whisper, half plea

"Say please."

"Please?"

His eyelashes fly up

Oh shit .. There's something about Hargrove's voice that makes Steve absolutely lose control. There's something about his lashes that leaves Steve stuttering and blushing. He can't stand it. The combination?

Deadly.

Billy's first touch is soft, tender. Steve's watching his face, the well outlined lips, the beautifully shaped nose, the eyes, cast down. He can swear those lush eyelashes are throwing shade down on Billy's cheeks. The other boy's touch becomes rougher fast, until Hargrove's firmly gripping Steve's dick, like a clutch and now it's both of them staring down. They are watching how Billy is sliding his confident hand over the shaft, and the dark red swollen head disappears and reappears in between the strokes. Billy is .. crumpling it, like he wants to crush it with his palm and fingers, like he's mad at it, for some reason. The touch is harsh but still so fucking gentle, Steve's losing his mind how this fusion is even possible, and .. Hargrove's hand is so big and warm, it was made for holding his cock, it fits so well, feels so right .. As soon as Billy cups Harrington's full balls with the other hand, he cums with a groan, so loud, it's obscene

Steve doesn't even recognize his own voice

His orgasm is sharp and somewhere in between pain and bliss.

Billy is still holding his calmed down cock under the streams of water. Both boys are breathing heavily

"Don't ever do that again."

"Do what?"

"Rile me up like that."

"I didn't even do anything."

"You did, and you know that."

"I just couldn't stop looking at you. Cause you're so pretty. So .. can't make any promises."

Billy lets go of Steve and starts unbuckling his jeans.

"Are you going to help me out now? You're not the only one who's been hard all this time."

"Only if you say please."

"But I said it already!"

"One more time."

"Please."

"Please what?"

"Please make me cum now?"

"Go to the bedroom. I'll be right there."

"I like it .. when you get bossy."

Before turning away Billy slaps Harrington's ass, and starts shimmying out of his jeans on the way out of the bathroom.

Steve quickly rinses the remaining foam, turns off the water and dries himself with a towel.

There really isn't any sense in putting on any clothes, so he just wraps a towel around his waist and goes to his room.

Billy's laying on the bed, no pants, but the t-shirt and boxers are on. He's visibly hard but he's not touching himself, patiently waiting.

"Why are you still wearing clothes?"

"I uh .. I'll keep the t-shirt on. It's just the bandage and everything .."

"Oh hey .. how's your .. your wound? I don't want us to .. make it worse in any way?"

"It's fine. It's healing pretty nicely, remember I had those healing powers? It's not so fast now, but they're still working."

Steve's sitting down on the bed.

"Healing powers?"

"Self-healing, actually. Back from when I was possessed. Like, any injury on my body would heal itself in a matter of .. I don't know, minutes? .. hours?"

"Wow."

"Yeah .. the mindflayer .. needed me functioning. But this uh .. it also helped me survive in that hellhole after my chest had a gaping hole in it."

Billy's voice is getting just a shade darker

Steve's putting his hand on Billy's calf. It's strong and hairy. He's moving the hand up slowly, over the knee, the thick thigh .. and stops near the hem of Billy's boxers.

Billy is wrapping his palm around Steve's wrist

"Back in high school .."

"Yeah .. what about it?"

"I remember, I just .. wanted you. From the moment I saw you. Wanted you so bad."

He's pulling Steve closer

"You did?"

"You couldn't tell?"

"I don't know .. I thought you hated my guts."

Closer.

"I kinda did. But that's cause I wanted you so bad. And I couldn't have you."

"What about now? You still hate me?"

"Maybe just a little."

Steve's feeling Billy trace the fingers on his shoulder

Goosebumps are running down his back

He wants to make Billy feel good

"Let's take your underwear off. I wish we could take your shirt off too .. I want to see you naked, like .. completely naked."

"Shit, baby .. just a week more. They'll take the bandage off then."

"Okay. I can wait."

There's an inch between their lips

They're falling into kissing

For Steve, it is exactly like falling - into kissing, into the sex they're having, into enjoying Billy's presence - falling in .. love. Steve knows it deep down, the word's been on his mind for a while now, it's just that he's not saying it out loud. It all came sudden, without a warning, like an avalanche. He can deal with it, but he doesn't want to scare Billy off. Steve never could have imagined that he would do all these things that he's been doing with Hargrove, and he certainly never thought he would like it so much that it made him shiver just thinking about it, made him feverish, unwell, sick with want.

Has he ever pictured himself in between Billy's muscular thighs dying to suck his dick?

Yet here he is. Salivating, eager to put his mouth on it.

There's no sense in trying to outrun the avalanche. The only thing you can do is give in.

Billy is staring at him, half-lidded, his gaze is beckoning and challenging, and Steve again feels like he is standing on the edge of a cliff, is about to trip and free fall, and it's going to be terrifying and fucking awesome at the same time.

He's looking at Hargrove's dick which is right in front if him, just like Billy did a few hours ago when their first blowjob happened - watching, noticing things, making his mind wrap around the fact that he is about to take it into his mouth. Billy's uncut, unlike Steve. It's going to be even more fun, all the possibilities for teasing and playing.

So Steve takes a deep breath and lets himself.

Fall.

He presses his lips to the tip of Billy's cock, just the lips to that sweet spot where the head meets the shaft on the bottom side. Hargrove throws his head back but doesn't close his eyes still watching. He groans in utter pleasure, animal-like and lewd. Steve can tell, Billy's enjoying it all, like he's been wanting this to happen for so long, and now when it's finally happening, he can't get enough

The cock is warm, hot even, to the touch. Steve opens his mouth and tongues the sensitive tissue of the frenulum, then licks the engorged head, all around, slowly, pausing at the slit and tasting the salty precome

Billy's dick twitches and he

Fucking stops breathing

"Harr .. rington .."

Begging.

Steve takes the swollen head into his mouth and sucks on it, lightly, like on a cooling popsicle on a sweltering day, bringing himself relief - and it sure is relieving as fuck now, for both of them.

The cock is heavy on his tongue, and the weight feels good

He begins bobbing his head, up and down, taking in more of Billy's thick shaft bit by bit, unhurriedly, carefully, trying not to take too much cause he is - afraid of doing something wrong. However, judging by the indecent sounds that are escaping Hargrove's lips, Steve is doing everything right. He wraps his hand around Billy's dick to give it a couple of pumps and then glides it down to touch the balls, with care, as if exploring all the curves and the nuances of the other boy's body.

"Steeve .." - voice so fucking husky and needy, - "Steve let me .. I want you in my mouth too, please I need .. wanna to feel you."

Harrington stops for a second not sure what Billy has in mind

Billy motions for him to lay down, alongside his body, he's also changing position, moving further, giving Steve space on the bed

Steve understands.

Billy is laying on his side, supporting himself with his arm, and Steve is shifting close, facing Hargrove's crotch

They are facing each other's erections now and,

Fuck, this is wild.

This position is hot, straight out of a porno, and Steve can feel blood roar in his head

He wants to take a photo, he wants to remember this moment, keep the picture under his pillow and jerk off to it later

He is back at taking Hargrove's pulsating cock in his mouth, holding it with his free hand, and Billy is doing the same to him. Billy doesn't kiss or lick this time, he swallows Steve's dick which is so ridiculously hard again almost to the base, sucks viciously, and moans, loudly, shamelessly. With his left hand he starts kneading Steve's ass cheek, puts his palm in Steve's asscrack, and Steve jolts, because the sensation is so new, so filthy, he fucking bellows, voice muffled, mouth stuffed with Hargrove's cock. Billy finds Steve's asshole with his index finger and touches it, delicately, probing

"Fuck, we forgot to get the lube, fucking stupid .." - he mumbles.

Billy lets go of Steve's dick for a second and takes a glob of saliva from his mouth with the same index finger, then brings it back to Steve's hole and smears the spit all over.

All over Steve's most intimate place on his entire body

It feels strange, it feels dirty and it feels like Steve is gonna die if Billy doesn't keep going. It feels electrifying. He bucks his hips and unconsciously starts fucking Billy's mouth which the other boy lets him,

No, he welcomes it.

Hargrove himself is laying still, letting Steve take control of how he's sucking Billy's off

And then

He puts the finger in Steve's asshole

Just the tip

Oh my fucking god sweet jesus

Steve's blood now rushing in two directions - to his face, making it red and feeling hot and sweaty, and even more to his dick

"Baby .. baby, Steve, you're so fucking sexy .. so fucking pretty I can't .."

Billy stops blowing and start blabbering

"You .. are sucking me off so good baby .. feels so good .."

"Your hole is so tight, so .. tender .. I'm gonna do so many fucking .. amazing things to it, you're gonna love it, I promise."

"Don't stop please I nghh .. don't stop, like that .. fuck, just don't stop, you're so good, you're so fucking good Harringt .."

The "on" is lost in a hoarse groan, and Billy's body becomes tense like a taut string. Steve feels hot spurts of bitter cum flooding his tongue, he's not sure what to do, he's just holding Hargrove's cock in his mouth, sucking lightly, trying not to overdo it because it must be super sensitive right now

Billy's whole body jerks one last time and goes limb, and he's putting his head on the shoulder, breathing raggedly

Steve crumples a sheet and spits Billy's cum into it. It's not gross, it's hot, it's just that Steve doesn't know what's he supposed to do with a mouthful of Billy's cum

Hargrove swallowed last time and it was pure filth, maybe he can try doing it some time too.

Billy comes back to his senses, puts his mouth back on Steve's cock and sucks it like a fucking vaccum cleaner, hungry, ravenous. Steve's dick is big, but Billy somehow manages to take it almost to the base, gagging and frenzied. His finger is back at playing with Steve's hole, teasing it, sliding in and out, not deep, just the first digit, and it's enough to send Harrington over the edge - for the fucking fourth time today, fucking christ, it's insane, the craving, the insatiability

Steve's almost crying when he cums, wet heat washing over his body, he doesn't even understand what he's feeling during these twenty seconds while he's shooting cum down Billy's throat, he's falling and flying and getting smeared all over the sheets, he just knows that he's left boneless, brainless, spineless, all the nervous cells in his entire body are burnt, gone, turned into schmalz

He vaguely registers that Billy again swallows his sperm and he's holding Steve's dick in his mouth slightly sucking on it till all the aftershocks die down. They lay like this for some time still facing each other's flaccid cocks, light perspiration on their backs and their heads blessedly empty.

Billy is the first one to move

"Steve .. hey you asleep?"

"Mhmm."

"I'm thirsty, I'll go get some water. You need anything?"

"Nnuh .."

"What?"

"Dunno."

Billy's chuckling

"Okay, baby."

He's getting down from the bed, but before going downstairs

"Let's put you on the pillow .. Steve?"

Steve's raising his head

"Huh?"

"Turn around, put your head on the pillow, get under the blanket."

Billy's helping Steve move and get in bed properly

He brings a glass of water and puts it on the bedside table

Steve's already half lost in a blissed out post orgasmic slumber

Baby ..

It's the avalanche, and it got me and I'm under tons of snow now, and it's so warm here and calm, I want to stay here forever.

***

Half an hour later they get out of bed, take quick showers, separately, but Steve helps Billy with his bandage and then they go to the kitchen cause they are hungry. They drink cola and eat cold leftover pizza.

Billy cracks the glass door in the living room open and lights up a cigarette. Steve sits on the couch and steals glances at the other boy. There's something about him at this precise moment .. He looks so distant, watching the low winter sky, that Steve becomes inexplicably sad, out of nowhere. Insecure.

"Should you be smoking?"

"Probably not. Just the one .. or a couple."

Steve has always known that Hargrove is a dangerous kind, in a way. Heartbreaker material.

He still thinks so

"Are you gonna go to California?" Steve doesn't want to start anything, but here he is, starting it. Billy will probably tell him not to ruin a good time

"Why?"

"Because .. I don't know, it is your home?"

"Yeah .. I mean it used to be. I've lived all my life there. There are so many good memories, but also .. so many sad ones."

"When are you leaving?"

"What is this question, Harrington?"

Steve wants to shut up, but his mouth keeps running

"I don't .. maybe I just want you to give me a heads up .. next time you leave. Like .. we're fucking now, on the regular. Well, for two days already but .. I don't know what's gonna happen tomorrow. And I kinda need to. Need to know."

Billy takes a drag and his eyes land on Steve's face

"Hey, look at me. Steve? I had to help El. She helped me at Starcourt to get back to myself. Well .. she was kinda trying to save her ass then, but anyways. That's not the point. The point is, without her reaching out I would've stayed its puppet. I had to help her when she asked me to find Hopper .. I guess he's her dad now. It's .. I know and I told you already, I should've probably had a conversation with you before leaving, it was stupid of me. It won't happen again."

He lights up another cigarette, still looking at the dark overcast sky, starless, but the moon is there, hiding behind the clouds.

Billy smoking is another thing that makes Steve completely mesmerized

"Without you I would've been dead, Harrington. You know what happens when you pick up a stray dog? It becomes your fiercest protector."

Steve gets up from the couch, comes closer to Billy. Takes a cigarette from the pack and Billy hands him his own to light it

Smoking after sex is a kind of pleasure itself, and Steve's loving it

"Are you my dog now, Hargrove?"

Billy snorts

"Woof."

He puts his arm around Steve's waist and keeps it there

"I mean, you came to the upside down looking for me. You risked your life, looking for me. We weren't even friends. Still, you came."

Billy's inhaling deep and the smoke comes out in beautiful curls

"I guess it's like with my car .. I found it at an old scrapyard. It had good bones, it's just that it was so much work, and nobody wanted to do it. I don't know why, were people blind or what, it just needed someone to .. spend some time and money on it. I came to my dad about it .. At first, he was against me having it. He said it was too .. wild, too fast. But I managed to talk him into it. He didn't spend a cent. I had some money saved from the odd jobs, and .. I told him I would drive myself and Max around, so he and Susan didn't have to worry about that. I guess he saw it making sense so he caved. I worked my ass of at that repair shop where we brought it to. I had a feeling, he didn't like the car from the beginning. And then she saw .. everything. She knew everything. That's why she did what she did."

Steve's silent. He wants to ask more questions about Billy's parents but he decides to go slow. Very slow.

They finish their smokes. Billy closes the door and Steve turns to Hargrove pulling him in a hug and hiding his face in Billy's neck

It's chilly in the room, but they are still standing on the same spot. The clouds drift, and one beautiful full moon comes out flooding everything in silver light

"What's gonna happen now?" Steve's voice is quiet. He needs some guarantee, he needs to know that Billy's going to be here when the next day comes.

"Like .. life-wise or ..?"

"Yeah I mean .. what are you gonna do?"

"Fuck you every day."

Steve's laughing and looking at Hargrove's beautiful moonlit face

"That'll keep you busy."

"Definitely." - Billy's kissing Steve on the cheek. - "Look, I'm kinda fed up with all this .. fucked up shit, I want to have a .. quiet life? I want to enjoy like .. every day. That's what almost dying does to you. You get old-ass boring."

He pauses and kisses Steve's other cheek.

"I'm gonna find a job first. I'll probably look into my chances of getting into university. But I don't know, this year or next year, haven't decided yet. Maybe we can go travel to the ocean. If you want. We're gonna see Hopper in a couple of weeks, see what kind of help he wanted to offer me."

Feeling insecure is the second Steve's self.

"What am I gonna do? You're already talking about university and shit. You're just gonna leave me behind."

"Steeve. I don't care what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna do something. We are gonna do something, you and me. If I get into university, you can come with. Or not, if you don't want to. Then maybe I'll ditch the whole idea. We can open tours to the upside down, for all I care. We can crack a portal open, get a couple of rich guys, show them a demobat, the money'll last us a year."

Steve giggles

"Well, I won't do it, too much liability, what if someone dies. But you get the idea, right? It doesn't matter what we do. It's all going to work out, I don't have a plan now but .. we'll think of it. The only thing I'm sure of, you're my number one. That is, if you want it. I'm not leaving you unless you start throwing rocks at me."

Steve's feeling warm inside.

"I've never been anyone's number one."

"That's because you were waiting for the right person to fuck your world, baby."

"Say it again."

"What?"

"You know."

Billy's chuckling and Steve's blushing

"Baby? You like it when I call you baby?"

"Mmm. Also, it's "rock your world."

"I know. I prefer the other one."

Billy is pulling away from Steve. He's taking two cigarettes out, giving one to Harrington and opening the door again

"Fuck, I missed smoking. Remember that Halloween party? The moment I saw you, my brain short circuited. It's like .. my head's all .. dizzy after that keg stand, I'm drunk out of my mind and having a good time and stuff and then my legs start climbing over furniture cause you were fucking standing there looking all .. preoccupied and shit. And so hot. You still have those Ray-Bans, right?"

"I do .. why?"

"Might ask you to put them on some time for me."

Steve's smiling. He'd like that. To relive those moments when they both thought they had to be each other's nobodies.

"I'm sorry I lied to you. Nothing would've happened if I had told you the truth. The real reason why Max was there that night. And I'm sorry I crashed into your car like I did. And for not trying to help you."

"Hey. What's done is done. You were just trying to protect the ones you care about. I also .. well I kinda went off the rails at that .. what's the name ? .."

"Byers?"

"Yeah, that one. But .. in my defense, my dad .."

Steve knows, he'll find out all about Billy's parents, eventually.

"You know, now that he's gone, I .. I don't know. I used to hate him so fucking much, this hate was my driving force .. it fed me. It made me angrier but it made me stronger too. And he .. he was there. With his fists and .. he was always there. Now it's .. I don't know, I don't have a dad anymore."

"I remember when I was possessed, it told me to bring people to him. I could've started with Neil. It was easy, he was just in the next room. But I didn't do it. Because .. because he was my father."

"I know he hated me. Nothing I ever did was good enough for him. But .. I just .. I had this hope, that maybe beneath all this hate, there was even if just a little bit of .. affection? Parents are supposed to love their kids, right? Now I will .. never know."

"And then in the upside down when I still had a tiny bit of hope at the beginning, I used to imagine how I would never .. never allow him to raise his hand at me. How I would fight back. I wanted to stand up for myself, be a man. Not a crying bitch that he always turned me into."

Steve's flicking the lighter

"Nothing I did was ever good for my parents too. I mean .. they didn't .. you know. But they are just never here. Mom calls. They visit, but so seldom. And it was always like .. Steven, you have to do better at school. Steven, university education is the only way to build a successful career. Steven, why are your grades so low .. After graduation and me not getting in any of the universities I applied to, they just .. gave up on me. Like .. they pay the bills and stuff and let me live in their house but it's like we have nothing to talk about anymore. Nothing at all."

Billy looks at Steve like he wants him to really hear his words

"I get it you were bad at school. Boo hoo. It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't mean you're stupid. It doesn't mean you're a bad person or a loser, or a failure. You know who real losers are? People who for some reason forbid themselves to do what they really want in life. Even if they have all the possibilities, but they just aren't .. happy. Not getting into university doesn't mean you're not awesome. Cause you are. Amazing. And it's just .. Parents, they fuck us up so bad. But I uh .. I guess it's hard to be a parent. You have all these expectations and stuff. And then your kid just goes and screws everything up."

"Yeah .. see, I don't know. I don't know what I want. My parents always wanted me to have a life plan."

"Babe, you'll know what you want, it just takes time. It'll click when you find it. Have you ever thought of becoming a cop? Like .. Hopper? I don't know, he talked about you .. When he comes here, I think he's gonna ask you about it."

.. A cop? .. In Hawkins?

"I'd look cool in the police uniform."

"You'd look crazy hot, Harrington."

The cigarettes are finished, and the door is shut.

"Let's go to bed, pretty boy, it's after midnight."

They brush their teeth.

Steve wants every day to be like this.

When they are in bed, Steve turns to Billy

"I don't want you to leave, ever."

Hargrove pulls him in, and Steve's head is resting on Billy's shoulder

"I'm not going anywhere. This nightmare is over."

"Are you mad that I'm .. clingy?'

"I'm mad wild about you, Harrington. Be clingy all you want. The first time I saw you .. you crawled under my skin and stayed there, like an itch and you drove me insane. And then .. I mean, nothing happened and I was about to be off to college, and this shit went down, and .. you found me in the fucking other dimension .."

Billy's speech is slurred with sleep

He still manages to mumble

"It's 5:3."

"What?"

"The score. You're winning, Harrington."

"What score?"

"What do you mean? The cum score."

"The cum score?!"

"Yeah. We should be even."

"Says who?"

"My dick."

"You're a dumbass, Hargrove."

"We are going to have so much fun, Harrington."

"Yeah .. good night, Billy."

"Night, baby."

Steve's smiling when he's falling asleep, right there on Hargrove's shoulder.

***

They jerk each other off in the morning, and Steve can't really stand at work, he just wants to lay down and stretch his body and fuck Hargrove all day.

And then Billy picks him up after work, and he's made dinner, and they suck each other off on the table, Steve's bolder this time and looking at Billy with his big pools of hazel, and Hargrove's hand is lost in his hair, pulling and tugging, and then Steve is practically splayed on their family dinner table, and he doesn't last long although he wanted to and expected himself to hold out for longer. Billy's whole finger is up in his ass now and he finds that special spot inside of Steve which changes his idea of love-making entirely and has him cumming on one two three.

Steve knows they are taking it slow, he can tell Hargrove is holding back. There are still so many things for them to try, and he can't wait to try them but he also relishes the fact that they are not rushing things.

There's so much ahead of them.

***

One day Billy picks up Max from school. They start talking. It's still not easy between them, but it's getting better.

***

Billy visits Neil's grave. He always walks there, never takes the car.

He says it helps him think about life.

"It's fucked up, Harrington, don't think about it too much. I need it. I'm fine."

***

The camaro remains Billy's car for many many years. He does get another car at some point, but he never gets rid of his baby. It's always in perfect condition. They grow older and old together.

***

Billy and Steve.

Years down the road, when they have become so solid they've grown literal roots into each other, Steve remembers the first day of senior high school year 1984-1985 when he first saw that new guy, Billy Hargrove, as he found out the name later, in the school parking lot and thought to himself "looks like a real pain in the ass."

Remembers the day when he watched Billy throw bare hands up against the monster, when he saw him die.

Remembers the day where he made the rightest decision of his life - to go look for the crashed camaro.

The evening when he saw the words "help me, pretty boy" on the camaro's dewy windshield. When he came up with a plan - to go look for Hargrove, based entirely on sheer hoping.

When he saw him in the upside down, tied down and dying.

He remembers their first kiss and the time when Billy came back to him after saving Hopper.

Now they are like two stones molten together during a volcanic eruption, blessed by the destructive and cleansing power of lava.

When Steve looks back and remembers all, he is grateful

For everything that has happened.

Because

He loves every day of his life.

He loves every day of their life.

Is it happiness?

Must be.

It's like a book you never want to stop reading.

#billy's camaro fic #harringrove #billy x steve #harringrove fic #billy's camaro #i totally stole the last line from The Office #love this line

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