#just enough to put gas in the car for two weeks | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hees-mine · 2 months

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𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝗺𝐞 - 𝐋. 𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏𝟒

Pairing: heeseung ⚥ reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral, angst, crying, cum eating, multiple orgasms, age gap, taboo relationship.

Genre: 18+, best friends dad, smut, single dad, minors do not interact!

WC: 4,024k

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Heeseung’s mind was filled with nothing but you as he stepped on the gas pedal, his heart pumping in his chest at the thought of seeing you again.

The whole way there, he clutched the steering wheel out of anxiousness cause the four wheels on his car couldn’t seem to turn fast enough.

But once he finally got there, he parked on the sidewalk cause two cars had already taken up the lot, which most likely meant your parents were home, and it made this all the more riskier for him.

He had no real way of contacting you, so he sucked in a breath and did the only thing he could do, which was knocking on the door, hoping you would hear it before your parents did. It was quite late, so maybe your parents would be asleep by now.

You had just finished hanging out with Jake after what felt like forever. He did manage to cheer you up a bit, but as soon as he left, it was quiet, leaving you no choice but to linger in the silence of your room with thoughts of a certain someone you shouldn’t even care about anymore.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a few knocks on what sounds like the front door. “Hmm” you squint at the clock wondering who could be here so late but you assumed it was Jake seeing how he just left and figured he might have forgot something so you answered the door without thinking much.

Except it wasn’t Jake, and it was the man you couldn’t take your mind off of for the last few weeks. You gasped upon seeing him standing in front of you, a wave of emotions flowing through you all at once as you stood still.

Heeseung felt like the air got sucked from his lungs when you opened the door. His mouth was open as he searched for words, but nothing came out. He could only stare back at you.

You want to embrace him tell him how much you missed him and you also wanted to slam the door in face so that’s what you did.

Or tried to do.

But he quickly wedged his foot inside, stopping you from closing it. “I’m sorry, y/n. Please let me talk to you.”

You scoff at his words and struggle with him to shut the door. “Just go home before you wake my parents.”

“No, y/n,” he says, way too loud, and you’re sure you both wrestling with the door was just as loud. “I’ll scream if you don’t.”

You look at him through the crack in the door, not believing him until he parts his lips, and you quickly let go of the door.

His hand now rests on the knob, and he opens the door a little more, still not stepping in until you give him permission. “Can I come in, please? I just want to talk to you and explain everything. You deserve at least that much, right?” He pleads desperately.

“Heeseung, there’s nothing to explain. You said what you said, and now it’s over,” you whisper as your shoulders slump down. He can see just how hurt you are, and he feels like punching himself for all the things he’s said and done to you, but he had no choice when he was given an ultimatum by his daughter.

He carefully steps inside on his own accord and closes the door behind him you look at him confused yet curious and when you don’t protest anymore he leads you to your room so he can have his chance to talk more privately when you’re both inside he locks your door and sighs while running his hand through his hair.

You stood there waiting for him to talk. Your weak and pathetic self desperately wanted to hear him out cause somewhere deep in your stupid brain, you wanted him to say that he still loved you, but you know that’s dumb.

You also know that you should have put up more of a fight when it came to him yet you caved so easily and you hated yourself for it.

“Come here,” he whispers and steps closer to you, wrapping his arms around your back. “Hmm, my princess.” he hugs you tightly, relishing the feeling of having you in his arms again.

“Don’t call me that.” You tried to push him away, but it was so weak he barely even moved. His heart broke when you rejected his touch, and seeing you down like this was so hard, especially when he knew it was all his doing.

He tried to hold you again, and you let him. Even after everything he said to you, you still just can’t say no to him.

“I wanna tell you something, okay? Please just try to understand from my point of view,” he whispers in your ear and leans back, smoothing his palms over your head, cradling your delicate face in his hands. “Look at me.” he tilts your chin with his thumb and index finger on his left hand, making you look up at him.

You looked so pretty like this, staring up at him, eyes brimming with tears and curiosity that he hoped he could give you the answer for. “Okay, princess?”

You nod your head, and he smiles out of pure relief that you’re even giving him the time of day or night in his case. “Thank you.” he closes his eyes, kissing the top of your head softly. “I love you.” his hands fell to your lower back, bringing you closer to his body as he caressed your back, hoping that it’d comfort you, and it seemed to work cause you literally melted in his arms. “And I know that sounds like a lie. I know it’s hard to even trust anything I say anymore, but it’s true. All those things about you being a mistake were not true at all. Do you hear me? You could never be a mistake. I just said what I thought would be best. I tried to make you hate me cause I knew after we got caught, we wouldn’t be able to see each other again, and I wanted you to move on and find someone you could actually be with, but if I’m being honest, the weeks without you were like hell,” he takes a deep breath his limbs shaking slightly as he confesses everything praying that you believe him. “I kept reading our texts over and over again, just trying to hang onto what little bit I had left of you that night I saw you at the store. I cried on the way home. I was so ashamed of what I did to you I couldn’t even face you,” his voice cracked, and your first instinct was to comfort him, your arms automatically encircling his thin waist.

“Hee,” you start out.

“I’m not done, baby. I need to give you the full explanation you deserve.” You nod, and he takes that as his sign to continue. “I missed you so much, your warmth, your touch, your voice, everything. I haven’t felt that happy in my whole entire life. You came out of nowhere and blindsided me, striking me with not only your beauty but, more importantly, your love. Nothing could ever compare to the way I felt when I was with you, and at night, when I felt so needy for you, I couldn’t even get myself off cause you weren’t there touching me. I barely even sleep anymore. My life is a mess without you, princess. You have no idea what I’ve been going through. Once, I was the happiest man on the planet, and it all got stripped away from me,” he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, squeezing your frame. “I was so busy doing my best to make my daughter not hate me, but in the process, I ended up hating myself for what I have done to you, but now I just want to put myself first. I want to be selfish. I’ll risk everything for you, rather that be getting caught by my daughter or your parents. I don’t care anymore, princess, 'cause you’re worth it. You make me so happy, and you mean the absolute world to me.” he scans your face, and when he sees tears spilling from your eyes, he can’t hold his in anymore.

As good as that all sounded, you still just can’t understand how he thought that was the right decision to make.

“What you thought was best? What about me, heeseung? I’ve sat here crying for you, cutting off all my friends cause I couldn’t even function properly, and now you come here to say what you think is best. You could have tried harder. We could have-“ your voice gives out, and his eyes widen as you start pushing him away, pounding his chest and telling him to go. “Get out. I don’t ever want to see you again. Just go.” You weakly hit him. The blows didn’t even hurt, but he felt so weak that every one sent him stumbling back.

“Y/n, I’m sorry,” he chokes out through tears. “Please believe I'm so sorry.” his back hits the wall, and both of your faces are covered in tears as you stare at one another, your breaths ragged and uneven while the pain in your chests grows rapidly.

Your arms give out, and they rest on his pecs while you cry helplessly. “Heeseung, please tell me you’re serious 'cause I don’t think I can take getting my heart broken again.” You sob quietly into his chest, your emotions all over the place. You hated him for what he did, but you loved him for who he was.

“I promise I’m serious. I was always serious, and I told you I’d do whatever it took to make it work.” he sniffles and holds your waist in his hands. “I’m here now just for you. I know I’m probably breaking so many rules and putting my daughter's trust in me on the line, but I love you, and even if I try to stay away, I can’t because my heart loves you.”

That’s it. That’s all you needed to hear, and your next action shocked him to his core as you roughly gripped his collar and pressed your lips against his. He groans against your lips, immediately squeezing your hips as he tilts his head to kiss you more feverishly. “I never stopped loving you, y/n, and even if you were a mistake, you’re the best one I ever made,” he says breathlessly, and his words make you tremble in his arms, your only support being the collar of his white button-up.

“Me neither, I’ll always love you.” In your state of vulnerability, you confess to him, hands tangling in his hair as you kiss him longer, deeper, and more passionately.

You feel the heat between your legs the longer your warm tongues swirl together in perfect sync.

You moan into his mouth, your hands falling to the buttons on his shirt, quickly undoing them one by one. As soon as it’s open, your hands roam his chest, rubbing and kneading the flesh, making him feel lightheaded from how eager you were to feel his body.

“Are you sure about this?” He rests the back of his head against the wall, chest, heaving eyes nearly all the way shut as he bites on his tingling lip.

“Positive,” you say without a doubt and grab the buckle, unfastening it quicker than his shirt. The only thing separating you from him was the button on his pants and the zipper, but soon enough, that was out of your way as well.

He shrugged his shirt off his shoulders, helping you with your mission to get him naked.

You slipped his slacks down to his ankles, and he messily kicked those off, leaving him in nothing but a pair of grey boxers that outlined the thick tip of his dick perfectly as precum seeped through the front, showing you just how excited he was.

You played with him through his boxers, caressing him up and down a few times until you both had to part from the kiss to take a breather.

You took his hand and led him to your bed, reaching inside his waistband and pulling the material all the way down, gently pushing him on his chest, motioning for him to sit.

You began to lower yourself to your knees, but he was quick to grip your wrist and scoot back on the bed to make room for you so you wouldn’t be uncomfortable on your knees.

He lays back and lets you continue watching as you take his hard cock in your hand and pump it up and down. “Fuck me,” he curses. You haven’t even done anything, and yet your touch had him so sensitive and ready to blow his creamy load.

You stick your tongue out, flattening it and licking his bulbous tip, tasting the salty precum seeping out from his tiny little hole.

“Fuck princess, just like that, missed your pretty little fucking mouth on me,” he groans and holds himself up on his elbows, enjoying the view of you lying prettily between his legs as you start to suck on the tip.

You moan and envelop his length inside your warm, wet mouth, making eye contact with him as you bob your head up and down, taking his shaft deep, deep down your throat inch by inch.

Your hands smooth over his tanned thighs, nails digging in slightly while you gag around his cock.

“Oh yeah fuck baby, keep going. Take it all in, gag on it for me,” he says enticingly.

You grant his wish, taking it all the way in and choking on his tip every time it reaches the back of your throat.

“Dirty little thing sucking me off right next to your parent's room,” he smirks. “Could only imagine what they would think.”

You clench from the obscenity of his words. You hate how bad it turns you on. You knew you shouldn’t be doing this next to your parents, but you needed him so badly right now.

“Knowing their precious little princess of a daughter was doing such vile things to a man they never even met” he bucks his hips slightly fucking the back of your throat as you suck him off like it’s the last time you’ll ever get to do so.

You moan around his thick cock, drool spilling past your stretched lips, coating his balls with an unholy about of stringy saliva, and the wet sounds that followed after were nothing but filthy.

“You want sir to cum in your mouth?” You nod deliriously, eyes crossed and rolled back into your head as a gush of wetness leaks from your pulsing cunt.

Without a word, you feel him twitching violently. Seconds later, hot seed gushes into your awaiting mouth, and you gag around him again, milking his cum with the tight convulsions of your throat till he empties himself inside your mouth.

“Fuck” he whispers, hand cupping his mouth to keep quiet while you suck him through his high he falls back on the bed, eyes rolling back and body twitching with the last bit of his orgasm. It’s been so long since he had cum, and this was like nothing he’s ever felt before he filled your mouth with so much cum you nearly couldn’t swallow it all.

You sucked, slurped, and licked everything till you were sure not a drop was left, and he was completely satisfied. You even wiped the corners of your lips for good measure.

“Get over here,” he says hoarsely, pulling you up to his chest and spreading his legs so you can rest between them. “You make me feel so good,” he whispers softly and pulls you in for a kiss, hands gripping your ass and guiding your waist to rub your soaked pussy on his shaft. He could feel your wetness even through your shorts and underwear, which made him hard all over again.

He yanks your bottoms down in one go, his fingers running through your sloppy folds instantly.

“Ahh, s-sir.” You shudder at the feeling. You were so sensitive from not being touched all this time that even just the little bit he was doing felt so good.

“Love when you call me that” he moves his head to place kisses on your neck, licking your jawline as he presses a finger in your pussy, teasing just past the entrance.

You rock back on his finger, taking it deeper inside you. “Feels so good,” you grind desperately on the single digit, wetting it with your arousal.

“Want another?” He breathes out into your neck, nipping on your skin.

“Yes, sir,” he quickly obliges, adding another finger to stretch you out.

“Little princess, taking my fingers with ease.” he squeezes your waist as you roll your hips faster, riding just his fingers.

You press your face into the pillow next to his head, whimpering nonstop in his ear as your juices run down his wrist.

“You sound so pretty,” he says, opening his mouth and kissing your neck sensually.

“Sir, more,” you whine while weakly lifting your hips and growing tired from the pleasure his thick fingers provide.

He accompanies his fingers with a third one that slips in with ease from how wet and worked up you are.

You quickly shake your head and lean back, your face flushed, sweaty, and desperate for more. “Need your cock, sir” he doesn’t need to be told twice. He slips his fingers out of you and easily turns you over so he can hover over you.

“Spread your legs open for sir wide open” his cock jumps at the taste of you as he licks his fingers clean of your sticky wetness while staring at your little aching cunt.

You do as he says. Your shorts and panties dangle from your right ankle, and he slips them off the rest of the way, his hand gripping the hem of your shirt and lifting it over your head with some assistance from you. “So fucking perfect,” he hums at the sight of seeing you braless and takes your breasts in his hands, cupping them and fiddling with your sensitive nipples.

Your back arches off the bed, your hole opening, and closing around nothing, waiting for something to fill it.

He sits on his knees, adjusting your legs around his waist, and he takes his engorged girth running it along your soaking cunt. “Sir, I can’t wait a-any longer,” you whine, feeling like you’re on the verge of tears.

“Okay, my princess,” he guided his tip to your hole, pushing it past the tight opening, invading your warm walls with his thick, heavy length.

“Yes!” You drawl out, sucking him all the way inside you, and you don’t even realize how loud you’re being until he tells you.

“Quiet princess,” he says through a whimper, gripping your thighs as he rocks back and forth, setting a soft pace. “Feels so good dreamt about this creamy little pussy so many times you have no idea.”

He bottoms out and stays still to feel your fluttering walls pulse around him. He fits in you so perfectly, so warm and snug on his dick. “N-not as much as I dreamt about you,” you stutter out, your walls burning from how well he stretched you open. You’ve been thinking about this feeling for so long, and to finally have it felt like nothing short of heaven.

“Is that so?” He smirks down at you and starts moving again, massaging your cunt with his cock nice and deep. “What about?”

“Everything,” you whine, reaching out to hold his waist as he rolls his hips.

“More specific,” he groans and grips your soft breast in one hand, the other strumming against your soft thigh.

“Thought about you, your touch,” you moan, feeling breathless as he fastens his pace, your words fueling him to go faster and faster, creating a white ring of precum at the base of his cock.

“Hmm, mm, and what else?” He whispers the tip of his tongue, swiping across his bottom lip while he squeezes your breast.

“How good it feels when your dick is deep inside me” You press your fingertips into his sweaty flesh, little pink marks forming on his flushed skin.

“That’s my princess thinking about sir even while he’s away. Tell me, love, does it feel good right now? While my dick is deep inside you.”

You quiver from his words feeling even more turned on than you ever had before. “Yes” you mewl.

“Yes, what?” He prods even though he can see it’s difficult for you to speak right now cause the way he’s fucking his dick so good into your pussy.

“Yes sir,” you squeeze around him so tight, and his pace falters for a second.

“God baby, you must really miss me. You’re sucking me in so tight and deep. Your little cunt is begging for this cream” his lewd words make your eyes roll back into your skull, and he smirks at you as you try your hardest to process the pleasure. “You’re so close, huh? Wanna cum on this big dick that you missed so much? Go ahead, princess, let go, cream all over sir's cock the way you’ve been dreaming of” he barely even gets to touch your clit, and you're coming undone, pulsating around him and coating him in your cum.

“Cumming” you scream out a warning, but it’s too late. He can already feel your pussy creaming desperately for him.

“Shush princess, can’t have you waking up your parents” he digs into your hip, speeding up his thrusts, your wet cunt welcoming him in with no resistance. The slide was so slick, warm, and inviting for his dripping cock. “Fuck you’re so fucking sexy,” he huffs out, his thighs violently clapping against your ass as his big dick overstimulates you turning you into a whining mess. “You want them to hear how good sir fucks you? Hmm? That’s far too dirty, baby. Only I get to hear you sound so pretty like this, okay?” You nod, and he cups a hand over your mouth, really picking up the pace, his hips jerking desperately so he can reach his orgasms, and when he feels you cum around him again, he can’t contain himself stilling inside you, and releasing deep into your cunt as his tip bumps your sensitive cervix. “God,” he groans, starting to move again but very slowly and gently. As you ride out your highs together, the wet sounds of him fucking his cum into you were just the icing on the cake. “You’re so perfect” he breathes out dribbles of cum, still leaking from his tip and getting lost inside you as he collapses on top of you, his sweaty chest pressed against yours, your racing hearts matching the rhythm of each other. “I love you much,” he kisses your shoulder.

“I love you too, hee.” You cuddle up next to him, needing to feel his comforting warmth after everything you two had just done.

He envelopes you, hugging you close and nuzzling his face against yours, whispering all the reassuring words you need to hear.

Once you both calm down a bit, he props himself up, pecking your lips sweetly. “What time do your parents wake up?” He asked while stroking your cheek biting his lip to hold back his smile but failing.

“6:30. Why?” You hum, pressing your face into his palm more than it already was.

“Cause I wanted to stay with you as long as possible.” he pecks your lips again. “I’ll leave at 6:00 then,” he decides. “Now get some rest, princess, and don’t worry about a thing, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, and your eyes slowly fall shut, and you can rest assured, knowing that this isn’t the last time.

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#heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung #enhypen #heeseung #lee heeseung #lee heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours

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shuadotcom · 3 months

Text

143 Miles (M)

💞Pairing: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

💞Summary: You and your boyfriend decide to change up your Valentine’s Day plans this year, so you plan a two-week getaway - or a “love vacation” as Seungcheol calls it. With each destination, you fall more and more in love with each other and it may just be your best Valentine’s Day yet.

💞Genres & AUs: Fluff, smut, established relationship au, road trip au

💞Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

💞Warnings: Profanity, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, pet names (baby, sweetheart, baby girl), big dick!Cheol

💞Words: 5k

💞Note: Here’s my fic for the Cupid For You Fic Exchange hosted by @svthub! Happy Valentine’s Day to my lovely valentine @gyuwoncheol !! 💘 I hope you enjoy my beloved Paula!!!!! 😘 ❤️

Thank you to my girlies @horanghater and @onlymingyus - Bambi for always coming in clutch as my beta and Mars for the beautiful banner!! 💕

“Okay, on the count of three,” Seungcheol declares once you’re both back in the car. “One…two…three!”

You reach into the bag in your lap and dramatically present the trinket to your boyfriend. He bursts into a fit of laughter upon seeing the small smiling frog donned in a cowboy hat resting in the palm of your hand. You quickly notice that he’s holding the same figurine. You join in with him, the two of you cackling in the front seat of the car together. You’re sure anyone walking would think the two of you look deranged, but neither pays that any mind.

“Well, guess this means we’re tied this round,” you manage when you finally collect yourselves.

“Yeah, but I’m still winning,” Seungcheol boasts, taking the frog from you and putting both away in the backseat.

“By one point!”

“A win is a win,” your boyfriend shrugs, grinning widely at you. You concede and start the car, somehow forgetting how competitive your boyfriend can be, even over something as silly as a game of who can buy the other the most ridiculous gas station souvenir. You’re on day three of your cross-country road trip and Seungcheol’s souvenir picks have been just a little sillier than yours. He’s simply lucky is all.

It was his idea to do something different this Valentine’s Day. You and Seungcheol have been together for almost five years and every year in February you’ve done the same thing when it comes to Valentine’s Day. You usually go out on a date somewhere, always a fancy romantic lunch or dinner, and then an activity such as a movie or a trip to the amusement park. Neither of you are ungrateful about the time you spend together, of course. You love one another and anything you do will be enjoyable if you’re together. Your dates are always full of nothing but shared love and admiration for each other. You love Valentine’s Day and celebrate it by spreading more love than usual to your boyfriend and he loves doing the same, but you both wanted to change it up this year, so when Seungcheol brought up going on a road trip, you wasted no time in agreeing.

Initially, you thought about driving from Seoul down to Mokpo, but that is only a 4-hour drive at most and didn’t feel like enough of a trip. That’s why Seungcheol brought up something that was once on his bucket list: fly to the US and then drive to the other side of it and back. He mentioned that it was something he’d always seen in American teen movies growing up and he always thought it looked fun and like a way to get even closer to the people you care about. And since you’re the person he’s closest to and cares about the most, he wouldn’t want to do this with anyone but you.

It didn’t take you much convincing either. You can never say no to a good road trip, so you both took time off work at the beginning of February, packed your suitcases, and booked a flight to New York. From there, you rented a car - a BMW to be exact, at your boyfriend’s insistence. (“It’s our love vacation! We have to drive in luxury!”) Then start your journey to Washington, planning to stop at as many states in between as you can.

You’ve finally made it into New Mexico with the end goal of getting to Las Vegas to stay for a night. Neither of you had many goals for where you would stay or what you’d do when you got to every state and are just winging it. It’s more fun that way.

Well, except when it comes to your souvenirs. You decide to stop at a gas station in each state for the wildest souvenir you can find after you unearth an Empire State Building-shaped mood ring right before you leave New York. It’s an extremely impractical shape and you demand that he put it on as soon as you leave.

Once you get back onto the highway Seungcheol fiddles with his phone, making sure his Bluetooth is connected.

The familiar first notes of “Sugar We’re Going Down” by Fall Out Boy start and your mouth quirks up into a smile. Every time it’s your turn to drive on the trip, Seungcheol insists on playing the playlist of your favorite songs that he made for you. The gesture still makes you feel warm at how thoughtful he always is, even when it comes to the little things.

Drumming your fingertips on the steering wheel, you relax in your seat. Seungcheol turns the volume up and rolls down his window just a bit. The February air is a little crisp, but not too cold. As soon as Patrick starts belting over the speakers, you join in, singing the song word-for-word as you go. Other than talking and playing silly road games, a favorite of both of yours has been using the car as your karaoke room.

Both of you have more than enough playlists to never run out of a soundtrack to your drive and you’re not shy about singing around one another. For the first few hours at the start of the drive, you had nearly gotten a sore throat from how serious you were at road trip karaoke. You were only missing a tambourine and the typical multi-colored karaoke laser lights.

The drive to Nevada will take nine hours, so you do half of that drive, and that whole time you and your boyfriend sing your hearts out on the way. Every once in a while, he reaches over to feed you a chocolate at your request for a snack. He makes sure that his finger grazes your lip or your teeth each time, chuckling when you nip at his digits or place tiny kisses on them. Little moments like this with Seungcheol make your heart even more full, which you didn’t think was possible, yet here you are - falling more and more in love with him each simple moment like this.

When Paramore comes on shuffle, Seungcheol goes all out during “Ain’t It Fun,” doing all of the ad-libs and being the guitar and the drums. At this point, you’ve made it more into town and hit a stoplight after passing nothing but dirt and rocks.

It gives you a chance to look at him, admiring the way his dark hair falls in his eyes - the eyes that turn into half moons when he smiles wide and laughs loudly. You can’t help but swoon over the giggle he lets out when he notices you watching him put on a solo concert, his dimple making its appearance and you want nothing more than to lean over and kiss it. And then kiss him on his lips that you know are so soft and warm and made perfectly to fit against yours like a puzzle piece.

So you do. You lean over the console quickly when he turns to you again and gives you a closed-mouth smile. Seungcheol lets out a noise of surprise, but gladly accepts the kiss, his hand reaching to cup your chin as your lips move slowly against his.

A honk from the car behind you makes you spring apart and then you remember where you are and see the green of the stoplight in front of you, indicating that you’ve got to focus on the road again. Seungcheol reaches over to take your hand as you start driving again, placing a kiss on the top of it, keeping it in his hold as you continue, both of you getting back to your playlist and the road ahead. You can’t help the way your heart swells and you almost don’t want this moment to end. You would travel around the world and back if it meant you could do it with Seungcheol.

When the sun sets on your journey, Seungcheol has always insisted that even if it’s not his turn, he’ll do the driving. He’s halfway through the state of Arizona when it gets darker and he’s behind the wheel. You didn’t stay in New Mexico long, only stopping to refuel and make sure to see what that gas station has to offer in the form of trinkets. Not much, as it turns out, but you manage to win this round of your game when you snag a keychain with an alien riding a donkey while all Seungcheol finds is a pen in the shape of a chili pepper with a mustache. He couldn’t not give you that point even if he tried to argue with you just a little about it.

Seungcheol hums along to his music, keeping it low enough not to disturb you while you try to sleep. He passes a mountain range, briefly admiring how the moonlight shines on the red rocks surrounding you. His attention quickly gets diverted to you when you turn in your seat to face him. You have the smallest pout on your lips and your eyebrows are scrunched up the tiniest bit. Cheol knows how hard it is for you to fall asleep in the car, but he still makes you try so you can get rest.

His eyes focus on the road, but he can’t help but steal glances at you and your cute expression. Not only does the moonlight bounce off of the nature around, but it also does the same to your face. It highlights your cheeks that he loves to pinch, your nose that he loves to boop, and your perfect lips that he loves to kiss. Your facial muscles relax when you seem to slip into a state of rest finally and the sight of your expression that he can only describe as angelic has his stomach doing flips.

It’s been almost five years and every single day that he gets to look at you, he counts just how lucky he is to call you his. From the moment he met you, you occupied space in Seungcheol’s mind, and to this day, over everything else in his life that swirls around in his brain, he always comes back to you. Your face, your voice, your body, your everything. You are everything to him and he’ll tell you every single day for the rest of your lives.

“I love you, so much,” He whispers as one of your favorite songs plays through the car and you stir, just a little.

Look at the stars, look how they shine for you. And everything you do.

A smile tugs at the corner of his as he glances your way again. The stars, the moon, the sun, all of it truly does shine for you and only you - his whole world.

When your phone’s calendar reads February 14th, you and Seungcheol finally make it to Las Vegas and you decide to treat yourselves to a fancier hotel. Instead of the usual 3-star hotels (and a few seedy motels) you stayed at along the trip, Seungcheol finds the nicest hotel that the two of you can afford. You even get so lucky as to somehow snag the honeymoon suite. “It is our love vacation after all,” being his reason yet again.

You definitely don’t complain when you walk into the room and kick your shoes off, immediately taken aback at just how fancy and spotless everything in the room looks. The bed is the biggest you think you’ve ever seen and is covered in rose petals. The large window across the room overlooks the city of Las Vegas, the neon lights brightening up the room before you even turn the lights on. The furniture looks modern and clean and the room even smells fresh yet sweet. You can’t place the scent of the air freshener, but you love it nonetheless.

“Holy shit, this is the nicest hotel room I’ve ever been in!” You marvel, running and plopping onto the large bed. The bed is big enough for you to starfish comfortably on and you start making comforter angels, Seungcheol laughing as he flops next to you.

“Only the best for my girl,” he hums, squeezing your socked feet, forcing a sigh out of you.

“Damn, I’m so sore.”

“Well if you’re interested, there’s a more comfortable place for your sore spots.”

You lift your head to look at Cheol and follow where his finger is pointing. There’s a half wall across the room made of decorative swirls of metal that you can see straight through. On the other side sits a large jacuzzi bathtub.

“Is that our tub?!” You spring up from the bed and rush over, eyes widening at the size.

Seungcheol comes up behind you while you’re admiring, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you close. “That definitely looks like our very own giant, two-people-sized tub.”

“Looks like it has jets too.” Your hands rest atop his, fingers threading together.

“I think I even see some bubble bath on the counter over there.” Lips meet the back of your neck, your eyes fluttering closed at the sensation.

“Hmm, how about I get the bath going and you grab the bottle of champagne chilling in that bucket by the bed? Then we can order room service. I’d love some good sushi.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Seungcheol punctuates his sentence with a final light kiss on your neck. You have to quite literally peel yourself from him, but you manage it as the two of you split up.

It only takes a few minutes for him to grab the bottle along with the two glasses and for you to get the bath running. As soon as the water is warm and bubbly, you and Seungcheol shed your clothes on the floor as you each slip into the tub with you sitting between his legs. He manages to find the button that powers the tub, the jets hitting you at all sides, including your outstretched feet.

You relax into the water, tilting your head back, and resting on Seungcheol’s shoulder.

“I have some bad news for you, Cheol.”

“What is it?”

“I think I must pass away here, just like this.”

Your boyfriend breathes out a laugh behind you, wrapping you in his arms again.

“You’re telling me you’d just up and leave me like that? And to stay with a bathtub no less!” You can hear the pout in Cheol’s voice and it makes you giggle.

“It’s nothing personal, baby, but I mean you can’t produce jet streams of soothing water.”

“Hmmm. That may be true, but I can do this.”

Seungcheol’s fingers dance up the front of your body, gently cupping your breasts and squeezing. His fingers tweak your nipples in between gropes, making you let out a surprised moan.

You practically melt into Seungcheol’s chest as he plays with your sensitive buds and your eyes flutter closed.

Soft moans fall from your lips as your head lolls to the side, Seungcheol using the opportunity to latch his lips to the side of your neck. His teeth scrape over your skin, nipping and biting along the way.

Seungcheol has always loved to mark you. He loves leaving not only signs to others that you’re his, but every hickey and every bruise is a little reminder that he’s the one who makes you feel good and he’s the one that you always come home to at the end of the day. Not that you need a reminder because you’ll always come back to Seungcheol no matter what.

You count at least two reminders now, one on the side of your neck and another at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. His fingers never leave your nipples, the stimulation already making you nothing but putty in his hands. If you weren’t in the tub you’re sure you’d be making a mess of whatever panties you would be wearing.

Your boyfriend trails kisses from your shoulder, up your neck, to your ear, and lands on your cheek, peppering your face with a few more kisses. His plush, slightly chapped lips kiss any spot he can reach as his hands trail down from your waist to your thighs. Seungcheol opens your legs wide and shifts you both around in the tub. The moment the jet across from your body hits your clit, you let out a shriek and Seungcheol knows he’s positioned you the way he wants to.

The tub jet feels like heaven coupled with Seungcheol’s relentless hands that are back on your tits, cupping and squeezing in the perfect way you need it.

“Ngh, Cheol!”

“Hmm? What is it, baby?”

“F-fuck. I need you.”

“You need me? But didn’t you say a little while ago that you wanted to stay with the tub since it has jets? Aren’t you enjoying the jets right now?” His tone is smug yet teasing, warm breath hitting your ear and making you shiver.

“Cheol, please!” you pout at him, doing your best to beg in between whines.

“Oh, so you do need me, huh?”

“Yes!”

“And what is it that you need, sweetheart?”

Seungcheol tugs at one of your nipples harshly, making you jolt. You feel so close to cumming already, but you do your best to hold off. You want to cum around Seungcheol’s cock or even his fingers - something, anything of his.

You voice this to your boyfriend, choking and stumbling over your words along the way. Seungcheol’s gaze is heavy as he peers down at you, enjoying how you squirm and wiggle in his hold. Your head is resting on his shoulder as you look up at him, batting your eyelashes and pouting extra hard. He loves it when he can see how needy you are for him and how much you want him. He especially loves all of the noises you make for him - the pants and the moans and the whispers of his name.

He needs to hear more from your pretty lips, and he knows exactly how to do that.

With a smirk, one of Seungcheol’s hands releases your tit and trails between your legs. The tip of a finger taps against your clit, an embarrassing moan tumbling out of you in response.

The thick digit slides into your eager pussy and it takes everything in you not to sob at the feeling. Seungcheol crooks his finger as he pistons his hand and the heel of his palm knocks against your clit each time. You practically dissolve into his hold while his other hand plays with your nipple, your brain already turning to mush at all of these sensations combined.

“Fuck, sweetheart, listen to you. You sound so fucking pretty.”

“C-Cheol…”

“God I love it when you say my name. I wanna hear it again,” Seungcheol slips another finger into you, and you yelp out his name again without even thinking about it. His pace quickens, fucking you with his fingers as quickly as the bubbly water around you will allow.

“Yes! Please don’t stop, Cheol, please!”

“Mm, I won’t, baby. Want you to cum for me. Come on, pretty girl, let go for me.” Seungcheol’s voice is so deep that you practically feel it in the pit of your stomach. The pads of his fingers digging into your sweet spot, the jet from the tub still pelting your clit each time his hand moves, and his hard cock digging into your lower back are enough to have your world tilting and your orgasm knocking into you as soon as he tells you to let go.

Your body stiffens as you cum, the shrill sound of his name that you let out sounds too loud in your ears, but Seungcheol eats it up. He curses under his breath, telling you another handful of times how pretty you sound and how beautiful you look falling apart for him.

Seungcheol caresses your cheek and chin as you come down and when your breathing seems to steady, he tilts your face back and kisses you. His lips meld with yours, kissing you as if he’ll never get the chance again, making you even dizzier.

His tongue prods at the seam of your lips and when you let him in, he swallows up all of the desperate little sounds you puff out. He pulls back from your lips suddenly so he can help you turn around in his lap. The water in the tub sloshes as you get comfortable facing him and straddling his waist.

Neither of you wants to waste any more time, the carnal desire to have Seungcheol inside of you is a mutual feeling.

The head of Seungcheol’s swollen cock prods at your sensitive folds, whimpers falling from your lips as you start to sink onto his length. His hands hold your hips as you lower until he’s completely sheathed between your wet walls. You and Seungcheol have had sex more times throughout your relationship than you think you can feasibly count, and each and every time the stretch is familiar but always succeeds in taking your breath away.

“Shit, Cheol…”

“Feel good, baby? My fat cock stretching you out?” Seungcheol grunts between clenched teeth.

“Yes, s-so good, Cheollie.”

“You’re still so fucking tight, baby.” He winces when he feels your walls twitch, squeezing his dick and momentarily making him speechless. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

With Seungcheol’s grip tight on your hips, he helps you lift a little, letting his cock slip nearly all the way out before you slam back down and he’s shoved inside of you to the hilt. You share a groan as he helps you ride him, finding a steady rhythm. The water around you continues to splash, but he only moves you in his lap faster.

Your head falls back as you alternate between bouncing on his cock and swiveling your hips, letting out curses and calls of his name. Seungcheol bucks his hips up to meet your movements, fucking up into you as much as he can in the slippery tub.

“Shit, you look so beautiful like this. You were made to take my cock, you know that, baby? This pussy was made for me.”

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck!” His compliments only spur you on, your fingernails digging into the thick skin of his shoulders as you grind on him. Your thighs are starting to burn, but you ignore it. The feeling of your boyfriend’s girth driving up into you over and over makes you feel floaty, everything around you fading away. The only thing you feel and the only thing you know is Seungcheol and his hands on your moist skin, his lips sucking bruises onto your tits, and his dick kissing your g-spot with each harsh thrust.

Seungcheol knows your body better than anyone, so he knows when you’re going to cum. He notices the frantic cries, the way your body shakes, and that far-away look in your eyes.

“Gonna cum for me, beautiful?”

“Y-yes, fuck yes.”

“That’s right, baby. Be a good girl and cum for me. Can you do that?”

“Mmhmm! I’m so close, Cheollie!”

“I know, baby girl, I know,” Seungcheol moans against your chest, burying his head in between your tits as he drives his hips up so hard, you almost lose your balance. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “I’m close too, fuck - gonna fill you up. Can you handle that, baby girl?”

“A-always! I can a-always handle y-you, baby,” you gasp out, your stomach tightening and your body buzzing the closer you get.

Seungcheol keeps one arm around you while the other snakes in between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit without even having to try. The stimulation shocks you and has you mumbling gibberish, a mix of your boyfriend’s name and pleading words. Your fingers slide up and into his dark locks, threading your fingers through the brunette strands and tugging, making him growl into your skin.

“Please, fuck, Cheol I’m gonna cum!”

“I love you so much baby,” Seungcheol nearly explodes right on the spot with how your gummy walls clench around him again, but he manages to hold off. “Cum for me, sweetheart…” He nips at the side of your breast and applies more dizzying pressure to your clit.

“I l-love you too! I’m cum - fuck!” Your words are cut off with a scream as you tumble right over the edge, cumming harder than you did the first time, tears pricking the edge of your eyes.

Seungcheol lets go right after you, his face still in your chest as he holds you close, moaning out words of pleasure, love, and admiration about you and how you feel like “literal fucking heaven” and how you’re his and his only. Seungcheol pumps you full of him, his warm seed dripping from your throbbing pussy and mixing with the remaining bubbles around you. Somewhere in between his pussy-drunk babbles your ears pick up something about making you his wife.

You both stay where you are for a few minutes, your fingers lazily raking through his hair as he keeps you close to him, placing small, closed-mouth kisses on your hot skin.

“I love you so much,” he mumbles, letting out a sigh as his hand, still between your bodies, moves to rest on your thigh.

“I love you too, Cheol,” you sigh back, a drunken-post orgasm smile on your lips. Even through your haze, you didn’t forget what he said. “Did you…did you mean what you said?” you whisper out, hoping he knows what you’re referring to.

“Which part?” His question sounds calm, but you notice the way his fingers on your thigh press into your skin a little harder.

“The part about making me your wife?” A fraction of a second of silence hangs between you both and part of you starts to panic. What if he only meant it at the moment? You’ve had fleeting conversations about one day being married, but it was always lighthearted and more in a “one day we will” way.

When Seungcheol finally answers you, it’s in the form of a sigh. Wordlessly, he lifts you from his softening cock and untangles your limbs, sitting you down in the tub.

“I didn’t want to do this now or like this, but I can’t hold it anymore. Especially not when you ask me and look at me like that.” He steps out of the tub, giving you another look before sticking his feet in his complimentary hotel slippers and shuffling into the main part of the room.

You watch him rummage around in his suitcase before he comes back to the tub and kneels on the bath mat, facing you. You immediately spot the red velvet box in his hands and you gasp, tears immediately gathering in your eyes.

“I wanted to do this when we got to Washington and say some cheesy words about seeing the world with you and traveling everywhere with you for the rest of our lives, but I can’t wait any longer. Y/n Y/l/n, will you do me the honor of being my forever Valentine and be my wife?” The emerald stone of the ring shines back at you, surrounded by small diamonds on a gold band.

“Yes! Of course I will, Cheol!” you sob, tears blurring your vision as he plucks the ring from the box and slips it onto your finger, placing a kiss on your knuckle after it’s securely on.

Seungcheol cups your face with both hands as he leans forward and kisses you. The kiss is soft and warm and you can just feel the love that Choi Seungcheol holds for you in his heart seep out. His love overtakes you, your heart feeling more full than you think it’s ever been.

“I love you so much, Y/n.” he sighs when he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours.

“I love you too, Seungcheol. So fucking much.”

Your boyfriend fiance smiles widely at you, his own eyes red-rimmed with potential tears as he scans your face. “I can’t wait to officially make you my wife. And you know, if you want, we are in Vegas so we could technically make it official tonight.”

With a sniffle, you shake your head. “Patience, my love. We can worry about all that wedding stuff when we get home. Let’s just focus on us and this, and right now.”

He pouts dramatically before kissing your forehead. “Fine, I’ll wait.”

“Good boy,” you giggle, watching the way his eyes darken at your playful praise. “Now, how about we actually open that champagne and order room service? I’m still craving sushi badly.”

With a chuckle Seungcheol nods, standing as goes back into the room to look for the room service menu.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart. We have all night to eat anything you want to order.”

“Good, because if they have good pizza I want that later too. Oh! Or maybe kimchi jeon if they happen to have that!” Seungcheol chuckles at your enthusiasm as he comes back with the menu.

Before you order, he helps you out of the tub when you complain about the water going cold. Dinner is put on hold again when you decide that a warm shower in the luxurious shower stall in the bathroom should come first before you get comfortable for the evening.

In between the warm water cascading over you and Seungcheol helping wash your back, you end up bent over the bench in the shower, Seungcheol slipping into your still-aching cunt again.

As your fiance makes you cry out around him yet again, somewhere between the moans and grunts, you’re both able to whisper “I love you” and “Happy Valentine's Day” when you share another blissful orgasm.

Tomorrow you’ll be back on the road and back to making the rounds for silly souvenirs, but tonight it’s all about you and Seungcheol and this moment right here. You can’t wait to have many, many more Valentine’s Days with the love of your life.

Permanent Taglist: @aaniag

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acowardinmordor · 8 months

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You Left Me - You Miss Me - 4

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

Hi, time for more, arguably making things better, but also arguably making things much worse.

----

There was a diner a block and a half from their apartment. Steve found it when the sky opened up during his jog one morning. Snow, he could have handled, he was dressed for it. Slushy sleet mixed with hail was another matter. He ducked inside to hide until it passed, chatted with the owner for a bit, and brought Robin with him the next day because they had an amazing spread of waffle toppings, including crumbled bacon, and Steve knew she’d go crazy about it.

He was correct, and it was their go to spot, not just for breakfast.

At the end of January, Rebecca sat down to join them, and handed Steve an application.

Steve was already working at a JC Penny in the stock room, and picked up a few hours at a roller rink filling in when someone called out. They had enough money to live. Not decadently, but they could cover all their bills, and keep gas in the car, and buy supplies for Robin’s classes.

“Uh, Rebecca, I’m- thank you? But. My memory sucks, and my hearing isn’t great, and if someone starts getting rude, I’m going to get rude back to them, and --”

“This is a diner, hun,” she stopped him, “You write the orders down, you can always tell someone to say it again, and the fact you can shut down anyone that gives you lip is why I think you’ll be good at it. Like I said, it’s a diner. We don’t have to be all sunshine and daisies here.”

“I’m working at another--”

“Over at the mall and the rink, I know. And I know you’re free Monday through Wednesday mornings. And,” she stressed, “staff gets free meals and first dibs on the day olds.”

“Dingus!" Robin gasped and grabbed his arm. "Do it, do it. Stevie. Please, oh my god, please, you have to take it. You can bring me the brioche buns. And that apple butter. And that thing with the nuts! Steeevveee, don’t you love your soulmate? Please? I cou--”

So Steve took the job, and worked a few mornings a week. By the third week of February, he stopped feeling like he was going to fuck up any second. He understood why Rebecca liked his ability to get bitchy in the face of difficult customers, and he and Robin had cupboards well stocked with random take homes.

He liked it. Starting at five in the morning took some getting used to, but he was done by one, and traded off with a middle aged mom named Susan after the lunch rush settled down. Was it a ton of money? No. But he got more tips than he expected to, and the brioche really was delicious.

The last week of February, he was working alone on a Tuesday, at the start of the lunch rush, expecting Susan to arrive soon, and an easy day.

“Be with you in a minute,” he called to whoever just came inside, bussing half a dozen empty plates from table two after dropping off more creamer at table four. He looped back, ducking behind the counter to put the plates on the pass through for Nick to grab.

He dropped the entire stack before he got there.

His hands clenched down, his muscles locked, and even though it should have made him hold harder, everything slipped, and either shattered on the tiles or banged into his feet.

Jim Hopper winced from his seat at the counter. “Sorry, kid.”

The couple of other diners glanced up to check on him, and John looked around the window from the kitchen. Steve didn’t move. Couldn't. Could barely breathe.

“Is it back?”

“No.”

His exhale shook out of him before he shoved down the panic.

“Then whatever this is can wait.”

“I’m just here to talk.”

“And I said it can wait.”

He swept up the broken dishes, shrugged off John’s silent offer to throw Hopper out, and reminded himself there was no reason to think that the Upside Down was back. That meant this was going to be more awkward and less dangerous, and he was going to hate it, but it was still the better version of the day.

“What’ll you have?”

“Kid, I’m here to talk cause I didn’t think you’d want me at your place.”

“And I’m at work, and this is a diner, so what’ll you have?”

“Steve--”

“I’ll bring you coffee. I’m not talking about this while I’m working.”

“Coffee’s good. When are you off?”

Steve gave his bitchiest smile, didn’t answer, and went to seat the couple that just walked in.

The lunch rush was a mercy. Susan handled Hopper, and gave him the iciest service anyone had ever gotten under that roof. Hopper took it gracefully, but he didn’t shift, or push, or give any indication that he wasn’t willing to sit there til midnight if he had to.

Normally, Steve would get some lunch to go and head home. If the weather was bad, he ate at the booth in the corner to wait it out. With the way his stomach was twisting, unable to separate Hopper from what his arrival could mean, he wasn’t going to keep food down. He filled a glass of water, then silently gestured Hop to follow.

“Good to see you, Steve,” he said when they sat. “You and Robin doing okay up here?”

“We’re fine. Why are you here? If it isn’t something to do with, you know, then why are you here?”

“Maybe I just came up to check on you.”

“Did you?” Steve snorted into his drink when that question made Hopper’s face twist up. “So what is this?”

“I am here to check on you. There’s something else, but I came here because I’m checking on you. Me and you weren’t all that close, but you had Mrs Buckley give me your info so I’d know where you were.”

“Yeah, in case of an emergency. And you said there wasn’t any emergency. Plus, you had my phone number, so you could have called, which would be way less weird than showing up while I’m at work, you know?”

Hopper scratched at his cheek. “It’s not an emergency compared to all the reasons you wanted me to be able to find you, but if you ask those kids, this may as well be the end of the world again.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“Yeah, well. Henderson is gonna get himself arrested if he keeps trying to steal the mail and find something addressed to you. Max keeps pushing El to try and find you. The only reason they haven’t gone completely crazy is because of the Buckleys telling them that you’re fine. She gave me your address and number, and she talked for a little bit about the kids.”

Steve smiled at that. Mrs Buckley had never talked a ‘little bit’ about anything in her life. Either she was holding the line on being rude to anyone that might bother them, or Hop was pretending he hadn’t listened to a solid hour of rambling.

“Still haven’t told me why you’re here.”

“Want to ask if I can -- shit, I don’t know. I can route mail back and forth so they never have your address or something. I’d rather give them your info so I don’t have to be involved, but I already know you won’t agree to that.”

Steve ignored the pause that Hopper left there. Conversation and good manners said he should concede to something so he wouldn’t inconvenience the man too much. The last month with Robin supporting his choice kept his mouth shut. She’d be pissed at him if he folded, and worse, she’d help him get through all the pain it caused if he did talk to the kids again. Then he’d feel guilty and sad.

“Alright,” Hopper grumbled, “Didn’t think you would, but you know how those kids can be. Can’t fault me for trying.”

“So, we’re done? You sat here all this time just to talk for three minutes?”

“Almost.”

“So….” At least Steve could enjoy the fact that neither of them were enjoying this. Hopper winced a bit before he spoke.

“I didn’t tell any of the kids I was coming up to see you. None of them knew, and none of them are gonna know. Didn’t even tell Joyce why, just that I was driving up to Indy. Already had a plan in case they tried to tail me up here. So, had a surprise this morning when I got to my truck. it might change your answer.”

“Didn’t know you were so dramatic about stuff.”

“Side effect of two hours with that surprise, I guess. Eddie Munson came up with me.”

Any of the kids would have hurt.

Henderson might have made him cry.

Eddie Munson? That didn’t make sense.

They weren’t friends, never had been. The Upside Down meant they were connected, but they were never more than acquaintances, even when Steve was desperately trying to keep them all close. Sure, he’d taken over as the chauffeur for the kids, and everyone’s new best friend, but that didn’t explain why he’d bother to come up to talk to Steve.

“What the hell? Why?”

“He asked.”

“And you said yes.”

“He said please.”

That was not the whole story. There was something getting skipped over, left out. Hopper tolerated Munson, but he wouldn’t do him a favor if there wasn’t some kind of monster involved.

“Wait, you’ve been here for two hours.”

“Yep.”

“Did you just leave him in your truck this whole time? That front came through overnight. The high is thirty four today.”

“Yeah, I did,” Hopper said flatly. “He told me he wanted to come up so he could talk to you. Told me a little bit about why. And I said yes and I let him come, but I told him that I was gonna talk to you first. If you said no, he was gonna stay in that seat clear back to Hawkins, and keep his mouth shut about this whole thing.”

“How’d he know what you were doing?”

“No clue.”

“What does he want to talk about?”

“Not gonna say it for him.” Hopper shifted towards the edge of the booth. “So, want me to tell him to buckle back up, or tell him to get his ass in here?”

A quick consult with the imaginary Robin in his head left him just as confused, but curious as hell. He agreed, and fidgeted with a napkin, struggling to think of any reason why Eddie Munson would want to talk to him, or what the hell he said that the kids hadn’t that convinced Hopper to drive him up.

Stuck in his head, Steve jumped when a mess of a man in denim and leather slid shivering into the seat opposite. The scars on his face and hands were less vivid than they were last time they saw each other, but they still worked as a thermometer. Steve's did the same.

“Why the hell were you sitting in the cold, man?”

Eddie blinked, and froze where he was rubbing his hands together trying to get feeling back. “Hopper took the keys.”

Steve’s turn to blink. This was the guy taking care of his kids.

“Susan?” He called, gesturing for two when she lifted the coffee carafe in a question.

“You don’t need to do that.”

“Dude, I don’t know what the hell you’re doing here or why you care or what the hell is happening, but I’m not gonna let you sit there shaking cause you’re a dumbass who doesn’t know what gloves are.”

Steve watched packet after packet of sugar pour into Eddie’s, while he stirred a splash of half and half into his own cup. Eddie took a gulp, hissed at the heat, and clutched at the mug, eyes glued to the nicked surface of the table.

“I’m sorry.”

“For rotting your teeth out? That’s your choice, Munson.”

“No,” Eddie insisted, voice hoarse, “I’m sorry about the kids.”

Steve took a breath, took a sip, took another breath. “Look, man, that’s not on you. You play D&D with them, and you like all their nerdy shit. I was -- They grew up. We got through everything, all of that, we won, and they grew up. It’s not your fault that they like you more than they liked me. So, thanks, I guess, but--”

“Steve. No. They didn’t. They -- those kids did not suddenly grow up and decide they didn’t like you anymore. You are their favorite person anywhere, ever, you will be for the rest of eternity, and they don’t understand why no one will tell them how to reach you. They put on a really good show about being mad about it, but, come on, you know what they’re like. They want to apologize cause they know they hurt you, and they want to fix it, and just, you gotta let them try, Steve. You gotta let them talk to you. They miss you so fucking much.”

“Look, I know how they get, and I know how dramatic they are, but it’s still not your fault--”

“It is. Steve. It is my fault. That’s - That’s why you have to talk to them. Cause they didn’t grow up and get over you or decide they didn’t care about you. Those kids are crazy about you, and they never stopped, and they’re hurt right now cause they don’t understand why you left them, and you gotta fix it with them, please.”

Something pinged weird in his ear when he heard the way Munson’s voice cracked. Not just worry, not just helping, not just caring about the kids. Guilt. He was taking the blame for it, even though that didn’t make any sense. The kids were - brats, gremlins, terrors, the most stubborn people he’d ever met, and he knew Nancy Wheeler. If they wanted to be around him, they would be around him.

It wasn’t Eddie’s fault, or anyone’s fault. It hurt like hell, and Steve wished it wasn’t true, but this was just life. Kids grew up, their interests moved. Friendships changed and ended.

But that crack of guilt…

“How is it your fault and not theirs that they stopped wanting to ever see me?”

Eddie’s hands stopped shaking from the cold before he got the coffee.

His hands were shaking again.

Trembled in the time between Steve asking, and Eddie managing to respond.

“I, uh, I asked them to.”

----

Don't be too mad at him yet. He has a lot more to say.

Part Five >>>

#You Left Me - You Miss Me #my writing #steddie eventually #focus on the eventually today

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zoropookie · 24 days

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HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)

♡ chapter twenty-three — friends? (💋)

"Hey, if any reason we don't make it out without anyone seeing us, I just want to say that," You paused to look at him while you two were walking. "I think I’d rather be in a dating scandal with an insulin pen than you."

The corners of his lips twitched. "Wow." He said sarcastically, attention mainly on where he was going. "I never knew you were capable of thinking."

"My brain power’s not for free, just so you know," You immediately responded. "I changed my mind what I said earlier. I want at least three Twitter apologies and a lifetime supply of Jason Derulo concert tickets."

Scaramouche's eyebrows furrowed, giving you the nastiest side-eye that you could have ever imagined from him. "I'd rather take my chances with the scandal, thanks.”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him lightly with your elbow. You couldn't help but look at him a lot more than usual today. The allure that rang true put him in a different light, despite the light not being your cup of tea whenever he opens his mouth.

It was almost like the gravity of the situation didn't matter anymore. Still, you remained high and mighty. "I guess I'd want to be around me too."

"You're very sure of yourself for someone who's annoying every other day of the week."

"I’ll take it. It's why I exposed you so bad, and you flailed." You smiled, which caused Scaramouche to grunt in frustration. "You got burned, and you knew it too. Despite all odds, I kind of won."

"You did? Is that why you went AWOL for two weeks when I responded?" There was a split moment of silence between them as they stood there, and Scaramouche chuckled. The sound was low and throaty in the dimly lit alleyway. "All the considering, and this is very painful to say, but you were better with words than I was."

"Is that... another COMPLIMENT I HEAR COMING FROM YOUR-? I forgot it’s three in the morning." You sighed, shoulders dropping. "I'm satisfied with being the cunning wordsmith."

“You’re also just pretty fucking unfortunate to be around, but we can stroke your ego.”

“I love that you’re taking the diplomatic approach here.” You teased, feeling your heart warm up from his staring. Both of you looked at each other, uncertain to say anything, but hesitant to break the eye contact.

“Hey— uh.” You continued, stammering on your words. “If this all blows over? You wanna…go out?”

The amount of silence that was between them should have been enough of an indication to you, but you definitely knew it was solidified once he looked at you with a blank stare. “No.”

“Yeah, no. I started feeling like I was going to vomit when I said that anyway.” You quickly recovered, turning your body away to bite at your hand. Your eyes squeezed tight in embarrassment, hoping that you melt by some galactic beam in the next two seconds.

Amongst their chatter, and the alleyway that hid both of your figures, a distant rumble slowly became louder as the sound echoed off the walls. A pair of headlights pierced the darkness, and the beams of them against the worn down pavement on the curb assured them that it was definitely the group.

"Come on, come on!" Hu Tao shouted from the window, making you and Scaramouche cringe. She clearly found joy from this, because for some reason, the smile plastered on her face spoke volumes.

You both shared a fleeting glance, a silent exchange of words before entering the car.

"Well, well, well. If I would have known that Scaramouche himself would be in my car, I would have put 3/4th's water in my gas tank." Heizou raised an eyebrow, his tone dripping with amusement and mirth.

"Oh, be nice." You pursed your lips, squinting. "Like you made an effort to help me out in the past. Now you're on your high horse?"

"Um, that's alleged."

"Really? Is it? How's that case against (Y/N)'s hater going, Officer Shikanoin? Found any way to protect them?" Lumine spoke up, her arms crossed stubbornly. "Well?"

"Listen! I was given a very narrow band of things that I can do with that! Aaaand, my hands were tied with a lot of other things." Heizou defended.

"Yeah, I'm sure your hands were tied with all the Cheetos you were picking up, the ones you spilled in some sawdust." Yanfei chimed in with a wry grin. "But I suppose I can't blame you for your...preferences."

"You knew that was an accident."

"Oh Heizou, I never saw it as an accident."

The two of them were arguing so much with input from the others in the car, that you and Scaramouche could only look at each other again and back at the scene. This was the only way the two of you were getting home safe from social media.

"You wasted 2 hours picking up every single one-"

"I don't see how this is relevant to where we're going right now!" Heizou immediately interrupted her before she could finish. "Directions, anyone? Before I hit a dead end?"

Yanfei immediately started tapping on her phone screen, pulling up the GPS navigation app she used. "So you turn left, but the rest of it is all you." She said, shoving her phone towards Heizou who snatched it out of her hand.

"Where are we going anyway?" Hu Tao asked, too enamored in Yanfei to say anything substantial until now.

"Ei has a vacation lodge, it's pretty cool, and it has way too many guest rooms. We're going there, I assume you have a key to it, Scaramouche?"

Scaramouche couldn't even respond properly, only offering a yard long stare. "How do you know she has a vacation lodge?"

"Did you forget that you're an influencer?" Another mysterious voice, almost similar to a child’s, appeared suddenly.

Nahida’s head popped up from the back seat, next to Lumine. It was less surprising knowing that all of them were clashing groups, anyway. But Aether’s eyes narrowed to the front seat.

“Officer Shikanoin…” Aether said in almost a disgusted tone. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“It’s definitely NOT what you’re thinking right now—” Heizou took his hands off the wheel, causing the car to swerve for a split second. “DEAL WITH IT, okay. I’ll explain when we get there.”

previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next

YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.

taglist ♡ @thystarsshine @veekoko @gumickajolli @simonisferal @kamiboo

@justpeachyteastea @feiherp @pinkismyfavcolor @aether-darling @kunisnaomi

@keiiqq @mine-lu @featuredtofu @danhenglovebot @k4zushi

@kyon-cherri @b4tm4nn @iiinaurate @quacking-simp @auroratumbles

@kookiibun @ulquiorraswife @amvpk01 @simplysm1le @h3xi2g0n3

@alatusorrow @scaranthropy @mellowberrie @magica-ren @vernith

@kabukipookie @bananasquash @suqarlaced @dellalyra @lightyagamifan

@yourfavoritefreakyhan @heartsforseo @yomishen @pwushizz @swivy123

@strxwberryfetish @ibyobi @ashfrommars4 @chemiru @ainnofinway

@agaygothicmushroom @levianamor @dragontammerz @wth121 @lylovw

@morgyyyyyyy @lovemari @suniika @melpomenelurks (bold users means i'm having trouble tagging you)

#zoropookie #hhab #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #genshin #genshin impact #genshin smau #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin x you #genshin x yn #scaramouche x yn #scaramouche x you

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seat-safety-switch · 4 months

Text

Relying on a network of package delivery folks to sustain ourselves is an interesting new way to live. My grandparents probably got one or two parcels each a year, and it was a whole-ass event when it happened. Crowd the whole family around. This box came from another town. Let's open it together.

Now, I get thirty or forty packages a week. That's only a slight exaggeration, but you can understand the scale of the problem we're dealing with. As with everyone else in this era, we are constantly ordering things from faceless automatons and expecting them to get here on time. So it's extra mysterious when you see a message like this in the parcel-smashing-company's online parcel tracking:

"Due to an emergency situation, the package has been delayed."

That's okay. The roads were pretty bad. I can't judge another worker for preserving their own safety, especially not when they're just delivering me some old car parts. They are, of course, car parts that I desperately need this weekend so that I can put them on a shelf while I wait for more car parts to arrive in order to complete the job. The next day, though, I got a whole different message:

"Uncontrollable events have delayed delivery."

Okay, that's enough. I decided to call in to the faceless parcel-smashing corporation's customer-support line, figure out what was wrong, really get to the bottom of all this. How dare you hold onto my garbage? How dare you not deliver it?

Turns out that the driver, my fellow working comrade, had taken a look at his options. He could drive through the blowing snow to deliver me a bunch of junk. Or, he could look at his gas gauge and realize he had just enough fuel to make it all the way to Mexico. Start a new life. Make different choices. Be a better person this time. Stay warm. I can't begrudge him a vacation, but I hope when his conscience is back in control that he ships back my parts using a different courier than I did.

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villainofmyownstory · 16 days

Text

Day Zero

chapter 1

masterlist

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x plus size fem!reader

summary: Ghost and his dog Riley regularly patrol the city. A man has his own routine, every day, for almost 2 years, has to look the same. The man knows that he cannot change his behavior because deep down he still feels that someone will answer his radio signal. He doesn't lose hope. However, exactly 730 days after "Day Zero", no one shows up at the transmitter mast. Just when you finally get there. You've been trying to get here for weeks, seeing a tower in the distance. You needed electricity, and the tower had a source of light every night. And so each of you, individually, still thinks that you are the only one alive.

Chapter 1: The First One

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Day 729

Ghost & Riley

5:43 a.m., the black Gamin watch on the man's right hand started ringing. In exactly 25 minutes, the sun will rise and Ghost will be able to leave the safety of his home and begin his daily routine.

This morning is definitely warmer than the previous ones. Getting out of bed, the man decides that in the evening he will cover some of the solar panels, so that excess energy for heating will no longer be needed. He preferred to keep some panels unused in case others failed. He couldn't find any more panels in the city, so unfortunately he had to settle for the few he found in recent months.

Riley ran to the man's leg, growling quietly, he had been extremely excited since the morning.

“What's up Riley?” Ghost stroked the dog behind the ear and spoke softly to him.

This dog had been the only living thing he could talk to for almost two years. It was actually a monologue, but Ghost knew that his beloved dog understood him and even though they didn't speak the same language, they understood each other perfectly.

The man also knew that he had to try to remain civilized, speaking, listening and behaving as he had before Day Zero. After years in the army, he remembered what soldiers released after years of captivity looked like. Who were locked in isolation for long months in small, dark cells. They were quickly losing their minds.

And he had to remain human. Despite everything.

Every day, after getting up and taking a quick bathroom break, Ghost would do some exercises to wake up. And be in good shape all the time. Unfortunately, his supplies of black tea were slowly running out and surprisingly there were few tea lovers in this damn city. He never drank coffee, so physical activity had to be enough for him to overcome sleepiness.

Once he put on his old military clothes and took his gun from the safe, he headed to the kitchen, taking a few military biscuits that he used to eat during his morning routine.

"Riley come on, it's time for patrol" the dog wagged his tail and ran to his master, waiting for Ghost to put a tactical harnesses and leash on him.

On his way out, Ghost checked the surveillance cameras he had installed around the house. The area looked like any other day. Intact. For a split second he felt disappointed, he was under the illusion that he was not the only one alive in this world.

Getting into the black Ford Ranger pickup truck, he checked the gas level in the canisters in the back and the air in the tires. Everything was in order. When Riley jumped on the back trunk and Ghost checked if the dog was safe, he got into the car and slowly drove away, looking around the surrounding area. Today he was going to the eastern part of the city, there were a few houses on the outskirts that he didn't check. As the days were getting longer, he could afford to travel further and plunder new abandoned houses.

When he reached one of his checkpoints, Riley on the trunk started barking and wanted to jump down to the ground. The man, concerned about the dog's behavior, quickly stopped at one of the dead ends. The dog barked and wagged his tail, staring as if in a trance, his attention focused towards the west.

“Riley calm down, Riley!”

Ghost quickly jumped onto the trunk and grabbed the dog by the collar, trying to calm animal down and direct its attention to himself. The dog barked louder and louder and suddenly growled in a way he had never heard before. Ghost froze, he had never seen such aggression from his dog before.

“Riley, sit down. Riley!”

man's voice trembled with growing fear, despite this he tried to pronounce the commands in a loud and decisive tone. Ghost was afraid that the dog might have gotten sick, maybe he had been bitten by some sick animal during one of the patrols in a new area and the wound was so small that Ghost he missed it. Even though he checked Riley every day after every patrol. He couldn't lose his only family member. Only friend.

Suddenly the dog calms down. He sat on his hind legs and, panting slightly, looked at his owner with peace in his eyes

“Bloody hell Riley, what the fuck was that?”

Ghost shook his head disapprovingly, looking up at the dog, patting it on the belly and stroking it for a while. After making sure that the dog had calmed down, the man returned to the car and drove again, glancing at the dog in the rear-view mirror from time to time. Fortunately, the rest of the journey passed peacefully, without any strange incidents.

Ghost drove in silence with the car windows open, looking around the suburbs. The eastern part of the city was mainly inhabited by elites, wealthier people from the upper classes.

Was.

Ghost, remembering his old life, felt that he didn't miss it. Money, power, fame. He never aspired to it and didn't need it, but in connection with his work he often had contact with rich people and it was difficult for him to come to terms with them. He could never get along with them. So now, after so many days since Day Zero, looking at the empty large villas, he smiled to himself. People had so much in the past, they were concerned with getting rich, making more and more money. And what did they need it for? Now they were all dead. And large houses and expensive cars stood empty, deteriorating under the influence of the seasons.

When the former soldier reached the house he had last checked, he parked close to a large tree so that the car was hidden in the shade. He opened the trunk lid for Riley to jump down and search the front and back of the house first. Nothing really bad ever happened, no evil awaited them during the day.

But Ghost wanted his four-legged friend to feel important and appreciated. If only his life would be no different from the one before Day Zero. Even though the man was not sure whether the dog had previously served in the army, from the first day they met the man checked and was happy to find that Riley was well trained. Its previous owner must have taken care of it. Ghost was very grateful to this person.

Whoever that person was.

When the dog returned happily wagging his tail and meekly stood next to the man's right leg, it was a signal that the area was checked and safe. Ghost took a bag of raw meat from his tactical vest pocket and gave a piece of it to the dog as a reward

“Good boy” as he said this he patted the dog affectionately on the head and added

“Watch the door Riley, I'll be right back.”

Ghost easily entered the white house, which was small compared to other houses in the area. Knowing that the owners would not come back to it anyway, he simply broke the glass in the door and turned the lock from the inside.

It took him less than 10 minutes to search the house, and as he thought, unfortunately for him, he found nothing important. It was one of those houses where wealthy owners come for a few days a year when they had to do something in the city. Ghost found some bandages, batteries, two cans of beans and a package of pasta. He packed everything into a backpack and took a large pillow from the couch.

Something for Riley.

Leaving the villa, he looked around the area, the sun was shining more and more strongly and Ghost basked in the sun for a few seconds, closing his eyes for a moment. Waiting for Riley to run up to him. However, none of this happened.

"Riley, come on..."

Ghost said calmly, patting his thigh to encourage the dog to come to him.

Silence. No movement.

“Oh, come on boy, I've got something for you..” the soldier opened his eyes and stepped off the porch, looking around the front lawn.

For the first time in over 700 days, Ghost felt panic rising.

Riley was nowhere to be found.

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Day 730

You

The next day of walking was so tiring that you took each step slowly with a grimace on your face. Your feet are so injured that your white Converse shoes are not only dirty with dust and brown soil, but also have red stains on them.

You don't have the strength to walk anymore. You wipe the sweat from your forehead, straightening the old t-shirt that serves as a makeshift head cover. The days are getting hotter and the journey during the day is torture.

“Maybe I'll finally lose weight”

you mutter under your breath, standing in the shadow for a moment. The large billboard that stands in the western part of the city is slightly damaged. The advertisement for the movie, which premiered over two years ago, is slightly faded and torn.

You fan your face with your hand, hoping it will bring you some relief.

Even though almost two years have passed since Day Zero, you have not lost the excess weight, and walking in full sun was a real horror for you. Dropping your backpack at your feet, you take out a half-full bottle of water and take a few sips. Even the water in the bottle is warm.

You sigh and look around. Nevertheless, despite all the horror that took place so many days ago, the outskirts of this city do not look damaged or well-kept. Even in your previous life - as you call it - you had never been to this area. Maybe it would be worth looking around a bit, maybe you will find a working car. Or at least a bicycle.

The tingling and stinging in your feet constantly reminded you how hurt and bloody your feet were. But you had to get to the transmission tower. You had seen it for so many days and you knew there was electricity there. Even on a rainy night, the lights from the tower were visible from many miles away. You were hoping that you would be able to charge the electronics you collected two years ago and maybe you would finally hear a human voice. Some signal of life.

You couldn't be the only survivor on this earth.

After a moment of rest, you moved further west, the sun was shining stronger and higher. It must have been close to twelve o'clock. You wanted to reach the tower before sunset, hoping that apart from metal bars and many cables, there would be a technical building where you could spend the night and charge your equipment.

Life before Day Zero was kind and happy for you. However, after that day it was a fight for survival. You were suddenly alone, without family or friends. You were on your own for the first time in your life. And you weren't the survival type. You lived comfortably all your life and could count on family members. Walking towards the mast, you had time for further thoughts. After all, what else are you left with? You haven't seen a human in 2 years.

Alive, to be more precise.

You were having conversations in your head, speaking quietly to yourself every few days as if you were afraid that your vocal cords would grow together or that you would simply forget what it's like to be human. The silence of the desolate world scared you at first, sleepless nights and fear during the day accompanied you in the first year. It was only when you found a bigger city and nice, undamaged houses and moved into one of them, collecting found food and useful items, that you finally started to calm down and sleep through the nights.

However, when the batteries in the device ran out, the water in the tap stopped flowing, and the winter at home became so cold that you might as well have slept outside, because the temperature difference was practically negligible, you decided to head west.

One night, when a snowstorm and strong wind opened one window in the attic and you went to close it at least temporarily and secure it to prevent snow from entering the house, you noticed a flashing light on the horizon in the distance.

At first you thought it was just a hallucination. Maybe you didn't eat enough or ate some spoiled food and your eyesight is playing tricks on you. But as you stood there and looked out the open window. To the west, a small light kept flickering in the distance. And the next day and the next. And finally the next week too.

When more than a month had passed and the weather had finally normalized, you decided to pack the most necessary items and go in that direction.

It had to be some kind of sign.

Some miracle.

During those nights when you were waiting for the weather to allow you to travel on foot, you imagined many scenarios. You felt excited and happy. Hope. Maybe you weren't the only living person in this world, maybe there were other people that close. This thought kept you alive.

Thanks to this thought, after so many days of traveling with injured legs, you were finally close to your destination. You had to get there and see with your own eyes that you weren't crazy after all and that the red and white tower was a signpost that someone maintained to let you know that he was also here, that he was alive.

When you finally reached the fence, you didn't even notice that your emotions and tiredness had won and tears were rolling down your cheeks.

You were so very happy. So close to the goal.

The gate to the tower was padlocked.

“Fuck!”

you screamed, struggling against the metal fence. You stood there sobbing, not knowing how to get to the other side. It was impossible to climb the fence. Firstly, it was too high, secondly, there was barbed wire at the top and thirdly, you physically couldn't do it. You were too fat to pull your body up over the fence.

When you finally calmed down and wiped your tears, you walked away from the fence and noticed that next to one of the fence posts there was a piece of paper attached with a red material.

You froze.

You quickly pulled a piece of paper from behind the ribbon and unwrapped the paper with trembling hands:

“If anyone is reading this, it means I'm not alone here. You survived just like me.

My name is Ghost.

I have shelter, food and other necessary items to survive. If you are looking for help, wait here. I come to the towers every day, every day of the year. Right at noon and I've been waiting for an hour..."

You quickly looked at your watch and froze… 12:23…. No, it's impossible, you've been here for a long time, you must have seen someone, you wanted to cry again. It can't be true that the only living thing, ironically calling itself Ghost, didn't show up today. Just when you came here. Maybe you missed each other? Maybe you were here for a few minutes after all. There was hope. You were supposed to spend the night here anyway, so if by some miracle you two missed each other, there was a chance to meet the owner of this letter tomorrow.

You looked at the piece of paper again:

“...and I've been waiting for an hour.

However, if you have no good intentions and are counting on your own survival, I have to worry you. In my previous life I killed more people than you can count, now, apart from things to survive, I have a weapon with me and I know how to use it quickly.

Wait here, and until I appear, don't be afraid, because you will hear and see my dog…Riley.”

With your heart beating strongly, you finished reading the letter.

Your mind didn't even have time to fully read the content of the letter when a large German shepherd ran out from the west wing of the fence, barking loudly.

This couldn't be true.

When you turned towards the dog, you froze.

“Oh my God…Riley…boy”

It was your dog. Who disappeared on Day Zero.

And now, after 730 days, he was running towards you.

Your beloved dog has been found.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #cod #ghost #call of duty fanfic #cod au

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passivenovember · 1 month

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Harringrove Relay Race -- passing the torch to @raven-cl ! Run babe RUN!

blooming forth, it's every color in the moments it has left.

Turns out, shit hits the fan in the dark.

Steve’s known that. It’s still a surprise when Billy takes Max and hits the ground hot with his feet aching after a long shift at the pool, even though his sandals are covered in blood. His. Neil's.

Doesn't actually matter, because when Steve wakes up to a phone call so late in the night he thinks someone's gotta be dead or dying, or they need to get sucked off like they need air and water and Steve's gotten himself penciled in as the number-one, go-to asshat for both types of situations--

Point is, the phone goddamn rings. Sounds like pennies being thrown against the walls of Steve’s two-bedroom apartment. And it's the middle of the night. All that matters is that when Steve rolls over and yanks the receiver from its cradle, all, "Someone better be dying–”

Billy's trying his best not to cry. "I hit him," Billy says, an earthquake that shakes the foundation of the city. That gets Steve wide-eyed and fearful and awake. "Fuck, Steve, I hit him--"

“What?” Steve sits ramrod in bed, covers a limp and useless pool around him. "Are you alright?"

"I'm. There's, like. Blood," Billy says, "I guess."

"You guess?"

"I'm okay. Nothing’s broken," Billy pulls away from the phone to say something to someone. To Max, Steve would bet money on it. And then he says, "I have blood on my feet. And. Max has blood in her hair so it looks black, almost, and. Shit, Steve, I hit him--"

"Where are you?”

"--It might be Neil's blood," Billy tells him. Like Steve's lost in the weeds, here. Like he needs a compass pointing him toward the huge, terrible obvious truth. "I--"

"Fuck who's blood it is," Steve tells him, already upright struggling into a pair of week-old jeans. He tries not to focus on that, swallows against the urge to be harsh with himself, because he was knocked out two minutes ago, dreaming of the pretty pink pucker of Billy's cunt when the phone rang. "That's not important. Where are you," Steve asks, cock still hard because he's human, getting tangled in the phone cord, "You said. Is Max--"

"She's okay. We're at a gas station about twenty miles outside of town."

Steve's hard-on dies. "Twenty miles outside of town?"

"Yeah."

"What are you talking about?" Steve doesn't put a shirt on. He throws a jacket over his chest. Billy's jacket. Doesn't even zip the thing. "Never mind. I'm coming to get you."

"The car works, you don't need to get out of bed."

"I'm dressed, I'm out of bed," Steve says, teasing, "Stay put. Are you, like. East or west, twenty miles out of town?"

"Steve," Billy says, and it casts an unflattering spotlight on everything.

Steve ducks to hide from it, searching under his bed for a pair of shoes. "Okay, yeah. Stupid fucking question to ask, but I was asleep--"

"We have to go," Billy tells him.

"Okay," Steve says quickly. Doesn't like the tone of Billy's voice. "Let's go, blue. Where are we going?"

“Max and I–”

“--And you and me,” Steve finishes for him.

“Steve,” Billy says. “You know Max and I can't stay here."

Steve shoves his bare feet into a pair of shoes. Rain boots. "So, you're just gonna leave? Without saying goodbye? There’s no other option, here?”

"This isn't about you."

"Fine," Steve says, stalking over to his dresser mirror. The phone cord tugs on him, not nearly long enough, and he fights the urge to rip it out of the wall. Doesn’t. 'Cause. He'd lose Billy.

Steve fiddles with it, anyway, trying to keep calm. “How’re you gonna get there?”

“We’ll drive.”

“Okay, and what happens when you get to where you’re going?”

“Wow, aren’t you the bearer of bad fuckin’ news–”

“--Billy, you don't have money.”

“So?”

“So, I have money,” Steve concludes, “A shit load of it.”

"Fuck you, I have a shitload of money."

"No, you don't."

"Yeah huh, I've been saving up."

Steve snorts, grasping at straws because. It’s true. The exact opposite of everything Steve’s been hoping would never happen, the same thing as a knife slicing through his heart. Billy’s been saving. Steve knows he’s been saving because Steve pays for every date because Steve’s a dead fuckin’ end and has nothing to goddamn lose by treating his boy right. He’s not going anywhere from here, but Billy–

"You're not leaving,” Steve says.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“Fine, then,” Steve backtracks expertly, a perk of what he learned dating girls for nineteen years before this. “You can’t go without saying goodbye.”

“Sap.”

“Let me kiss you, man. I fuckin’. I love--"

"--Steve--"

"--No, it's alright. I gotta say this, 'cause. Every fucking thing in my life is about you, right?"

Billy groans. When he speaks again, his voice is muffled by the wall of whatever payphone booth he's standing in. "You're so annoying."

"So are you. I'm being honest," Steve says. He ducks, a little, peering at his reflection from across the room so he can run a hand through his hair, at least, 'cause.

He's still got a crush on Billy, after all this time. Sue him.

"You're, like," Steve says intelligently, choking to death. "You're everything. You chopped everything up with just bein' yourself and slid into its place and I fuckin' care about you more than. Everything. And if you're going to run away to California--"

"--Who said I was--"

"--Twenty miles west outside of Hawkins?" Steve points out.

Billy doesn't say anything.

Through the static of the phone line, Steve imagines him cast in the grimy street glow of payphone booth glass, tempered but breaking. Twenty miles away but already gone.

Makes Steve crazy. Makes him want to hold on tighter, hard enough to break his own fingers. "I just," He starts, turning from the mirror, "I always thought, or. Maybe I've been thinking lately that if you're going to California, I'd be there to help."

To see you off. To hold your hand. To beg you to make room enough in your suitcase for me to come along–

"Oh yeah? You've been thinking that always?" Billy teases, and. It's gotta be a good thing. That even though he has blood on his feet, he's feeling okay enough to crack-wise.

"Please," Steve says. Tells him. Begs. Has nothing left to do but make it through this phone call even though he's about to shake loose from his own skin.

Steve is very cool these days.

Billy pulls away from the phone and says something, to Max, in a soft, pillow-top rumble that does shit, like. To Steve's belly. His heart. The very rotten, love-sick matter of who he is. Who Billy has turned him into.

Steve bites his tongue hard enough to taste blood, swallowing every single please please please that shifts like the fabric of a sourdough starter in the back of his throat. Steve paces. Taps his foot. Digs his nails into the palm of his free hand while Billy and Max argue in hushed voices for what feels like hours and years.

Finally, Billy says, "Okay, fuckin'. What happens if Neil hears that we haven't left town?"

Steve has to focus so his knees don't give out, full of relief. "That won’t happen. No one pays attention to me. This is an apartment complex."

"Yeah, but what if he drives by and sees the car?"

"I'll kill him," Steve says. Simple, because it is.

Billy snorts. It almost, almost, sounds like a laugh. "'Kay, well. Say he doesn't go looking for the Camaro. What if he calls Hawkins High to try and find out about Max?”

“He won’t.”

“You’re fuckin’ stupid for saying that,” Billy snaps, “Neil doesn’t give a shit about me but her? He won’t let her–”

“--I won’t let him–”

“Shut up; just. What if he shows up during fifth period and--"

"--We're both over eighteen. We’re old as shit, old enough to drink, almost, We'll. I dunno. We’ll change her emergency contact first thing tomorrow so they'll call me at the video store when he breaks into the building," Steve says, "And then I can take my fifteen-minute break to drive over there and kill him."

Billy does laugh that time. Sounds like it hurts. He pulls away from the phone to repeat Steve's evil plan to Max, who starts laughing, too, and Steve would do anything for them. He would be anything for them.

"Come over," Steve says, coiling the phone line around his hand, "Just until we can figure something else out. We can park your car ‘round back by the slop sinks. No one ever goes over there, we can hide you."

"Steve--"

"I can't watch you walk away from me, Billy," Steve says, and. His voice. Fuckin’. Cracks. Like glass and barren earth. A fist to the back of his own head, still. Desperately, pathetically in love with Billy even after all this time. Still drowning in the intensity of it. Sue him.

"Fuck, this is so fucking dumb," Billy says, aching. But he tells Max to sit in the car.

Steve considers it a win.

He decides not to waste the get-up.

Twenty miles'll go by in a heartbeat, and Billy has a tendency to sugarcoat shit when it comes to the marks Neil Hargrove leaves behind. Tends to get jumpy, ready to go pedal-to-the-metal.

Steve prepares for the worst. Makes three cups of coffee, to fight the dregs of the worst, and then dumps them into the sink when he remembers that Max is sixteen years old and it's a Wednesday. Thursday, now.

Whatever.

He makes tea, instead, and sits in the shitty lawn chair on his porch, sipping a mug of the very same chamomile bullshit that Robin keeps buying him.

Steve tries to cobble together a plan in under 30 minutes.

He imagines Billy, shaking and scared and covered in blood, on the canvas chair next to him. Asking how. How are you going to do this? How are you going to prove yourself a safe house for me and my kid sister?

Steve tries not to swallow his tongue, choking to death on the absolute weight of such a responsibility. He focuses on not dying. Hones in on how pissed Robin would be to discover such a close call, and how she would remind him to list the facts.

Truth is, a two-bedroom apartment is more than enough room, Steve tells her. Tells Billy, who looks easier to convince than the one who's on his way in from the edge of town. Everything will be alright. He'll fix up the couch for Max until he can get down to Red Oak Furniture after work tomorrow for a bed frame. He'll need to dip into his savings, but a sixteen year old girl needs her own space, she needs a bed.

Tears slide down Billy's cheeks and Robin disappears. When Billy cries he has a way of wounding everything around him.

His eyes say we need groceries. Steve needs to shop for groceries. Max won't eat a vegetable, but she's still growing, Harrington, and Steve doesn't make enough dough to afford fresh ingredients every week, just when he's putting on his a-game to get into Billy's pants, but.

He's always trying to get into Billy's pants.

Everything boils down to money. Steve needs a new job.

He sips Robin's shitty fuckin' chamomile and tries to focus on the immediate, too piss-poor to list the facts. He'll make tea when they arrive. Dinner, if they're hungry. The couch made up. The tea, drank, and tomorrow when the blood is gone from Billy's feet and his tears have dried, Steve'll call his father and beg for an assistant gig at the office downtown. He's got mouths to feed, now, he's got--

Billy's Camaro swings into view.

Steve jumps to his feet, rain boots squeaking, and holds his breath when the car disappears around the corner, parking where Steve said it would be safe.

"We're only staying for the night," Billy tells him, instead of hello, voice hard as marble the second Steve is close enough to really hear it.

Max throws the passenger door open.

Her backpack is stuffed. Soft. “What the fuck are you wearing?” Max demands.

Steve shifts under the intensity of her stare, embarrassed. “Billy said. I was gonna come and–”

“--You look stupid,” Max tells him helpfully.

Before Steve can move or breathe or think, Max storms past him in a fury of wild red hair and red, wet cheeks. "Thanks," Steve says, but the door slams shut before she hears him.

The entire apartment complex shakes. Hawkins, too, and the world, beyond that. Steve can't take his eyes off it, for a second. For a lifetime. It's a black hole, eating and eating and eating--

"Sorry about that," Billy says. When Steve looks at him, Billy's still half-hanging out of the car. One foot on the ground. Leaning against the gaping wound of the driver's seat with his arm on the lip of the door, like. Steve's going to take Max and tell Billy to fuck off forever.

His head is bald.

The cut is uneven, vicious. Almost like--

"Hey, pretty thing," Steve says. Everything's yellow from the Camaro's headlights, everything lies shattered in the grass around them. "Don't worry about it, she's upset."

Billy nods, the rest of him terrible and still.

Steve aches. He moves closer. "Baby. Do you want to come inside?"

"I didn't get to pack a bag," Billy says, like it matters, somehow.

It doesn't. "I have clothes you can wear," Steve tells him, padding closer, hands splayed as if approaching some sweet, terrified, rabid animal. “You know that you can have whatever you want, right? With me?”

Billy nods again, still unmoving. Still unseeing. "We're just staying until sunrise," Billy tells him, trained on the soft, fleshy landing of Steve's throat as it swings into view. "Just until it's light enough."

Billy's ear bleeds. Or. It did, at one point. Like someone came at him with a butcher's knife, swinging blindly but only getting his hair.

Steve has trouble remembering that the world isn’t burning around them

"It's just,” Billy tries, “It's not safe to drive when it's dark like this, y'know?"

"I know," Steve says. Billy's chest heaves like he's being chased, so. Steve nods. "Max is lucky to have someone like you. Someone who knows what they're doing."

"Right. So fucking lucky," Billy shakes his head, snorting bitterly. "Doesn't matter. Couple hours and we're gone, Harrington. I swear."

Steve reaches the car door, fiddling with its handle. Touching Billy without. Touching him. Testing the waters. "I'm not worried about it."

"You've probably never had to run from your fuckin’ house in the middle of the night," Billy tells him, finally looking at Steve but not. Seeing him. "This is the third time for me. First for Max."

Steve notices a black eye. A split lip.

Billy's still the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. "I've never had to run," Steve tells him, because it's easiest to get the hard shit out of the way, first.

He wants to know about the other two times.

He wants to ask about California. If things were the same with his father there. If Billy's really going as soon as it's light out. If the blood in Max’s hair is her own, and how Billy would feel about Steve pressing his thumbs into Neil's eye sockets before the sun rises and Billy has the chance to run away.

Maybe. The proven death of this monster will change things.

Steve inches closer, instead, past the lip of the car door. He slips into Billy's space, grateful when Billy lets Steve touch his chest, checking for injuries.

"I could always go home, before," Billy says, eyes unfocused over Steve's shoulder when fingers prod at his ribcage, "But. I never had Max. I always had to go home to make sure she was gonna be okay without me, and then I'd be too scared to leave her behind so I’d just stay put until–"

"Does it hurt when I press down like this?"

Billy shakes his head, "Steve. She's sixteen--"

"What about here? Does this hurt?"

"She wouldn't stay," Billy looks at him, then, tracking whatever emotion breaks like a wave between them, "Neil started, and. It got bad, Steve. And she wouldn't fuckin' stay put like I told her to, and now. We have no place to--"

"--Is she hurt?"

"She's homeless," Billy says. Steve exhales through his nose, trying to keep up. "We're homeless. I made her homeless," Billy tells him, with rising panic.

Steve takes his hand. "Let's get you cleaned up."

"We don't have anywhere to live, Steve."

"Billy, look at me," Steve grabs his face gingerly, staring into his beautiful, shattered, empty eyes. "You live here with me, baby. We're here together and I'm not going to let anything happen to you, right? Yes?"

Billy blinks at him, coming back to himself. He nods. "Just until tomorrow, right? Until I can--"

“Sure, whatever,” Steve says, playing along if that's what will get him into the house.

The shower's running.

Billy won't let go of Steve's hand so they shuffle through the cramped living room together on plan b, stuck like paper dolls. Max has made up the couch, and already has the T.V. on, so Steve leads Billy to the bedroom, depositing him gingerly onto the unmade mattress.

“Sit still,” Steve tells him.

“I know,” Billy says, far away even as he strangles the blood from Steve’s wrist. “Max was right, you look like a dork.”

“I was asleep when you called,” Steve says thinly. “I thought you were running away.”

“I was.”

“Ah, truth comes out,” Steve ducks to retrieve a battered first aid kit from under the nightstand, because. This isn't the first time Billy's shown up in the middle of the night but it’s the worst shape Steve’s seen.

Steve swallows that, too, and struggles to get the fuckin' thing open with only one hand. He can't feel the other, Billy's holding on so tight, but Steve's not complaining.

He holds on just as tight. Just as hard. Wonders what counts as running off, in Billy's mind. If there are certain boxes Neil has to check to push Billy to that point, the 'running away and never coming back,' point, and Steve can't sift through his rampant emotions quick enough to discover what it means that all those times Billy stumbled through the dark and Steve found him, bruised and bleeding all over Mrs. Harrington’s imported Oak flooring, that wasn't the worst of it.

“You don’t need stitches,” Steve says.

“You’re a good nurse,” Billy says, wincing at the forward burn of isopropyl against his ear lobe, “You’re hot. Anyone ever tell you that, Harrington.”

Steve grins, “Once or twice, maybe.”

“Real dime,” Billy says, working to meld their pulses together until they’re one.

Steve swallows a lump in his throat, everything he feels for this boy rushing to sit like water in his lungs. “Almost done,” Steve says. Wondering how someone could hurt this boy, this spot of gold. This vial of sunlight.

Billy winks at him, even though it’s starting to swell shut. “Thanks, doc,” He says.

“Don’t mention it,” Steve tells him, instead of run.

Instead you should’ve been a thousand miles away, by now.

Instead of drag me along.

It's ten minutes after Billy disappears into the bathroom before Steve ventures out with his first aid kit clutched in the hand Billy wouldn't let go of.

His fingers are still numb.

Max sees him and the aid box and immediately snorts at, incredulous. "I'm fine, Harrington, you can put your Barbie band-aids away."

Landmine. "Sure.”

“And your rain boots. You look–”

“Stupid, I know,” Steve shuffles, put on edge by the soft click of the T.V. remote in Max’s hand. “I just. Billy said that you had blood in your hair, and I just wanted to--"

"--It was Billy's," Max tells him, eyes trained carefully on the flickering screen in front of her.

Steve knows Max well enough now to get that she needs to be comforted, probably. She's still a kid, she's sixteen, but he also knows that the truth needs to be coaxed out of her, dripping like saliva past her rows and rows of sharp, vicious teeth. Just like Bill--

"Stop fidgeting like that. You look fucking stupid," Max tells him.

Like Steve said. A piranha. A sixteen-year-old hammerhead shark. The shower's still going so Steve frowns, tucking his first aid kit onto the coffee table. "It’s not just the rain boots?”

“No,” Max says, “It’s the whole outfit. And your big, dumb, worried eyes.”

“I’m sorry. I give a shit about you, and he said you were running away because he hit--"

"Yeah, I know what he said, and he didn't hit him. Not hard enough to do anything," Max snorts, again, mean. "Jesus Christ, he's so dramatic."

Steve nods, and the movement pulls her in. Brings her claws out.

"You’re dramatic, too. You were made for each other.”

“Okay.”

“Dumb and soft and earnest,” Max shakes her head, disappointed in them both. “Billy isn't dad. He thinks it's his fault. It isn't."

She says, like. Steve's going to lose his fuckin' mind and argue. "I know."

"He always thinks everything's his fault, but it's not. That's the Drama Bitch in him. He's a prima donna grade-a loser asshole but he's a good guy and he's my brother--"

"--Max, maybe we should--"

"I'm not moving back to California without any money," Max tells him, eyes on fire. "I'm not. I have a life here, I won’t starve to death here, so you can run in there and tell your stupid boyfriend that I'm not going until–"

"Right. Yeah, I," Steve swallows against the lump in his throat, "Max, you've gotta know that I'm not trying to make you leave."

Max snorts.

"I'm serious," Steve tells her, shuffling forward, "Why the fuck would I want that?”

“Won’t have to pay for all your dates, anymore,” Max tells him, and.

Steve. Didn’t know she knew about that. Didn’t know they were close enough to talk about boys, but he guesses. That’s probably a stupid thing to believe when Max ran away to be with her brother.

She sneers at him, "You're such a loser,” She says, disgusted by his presence.

Lights Steve on fire. "Why?”

"Because,” Max takes a deep, steadying breath, her grip so vice-like on the remote that Steve worries it will shatter. “Because you’re gonna let us stay here.”

“I thought you weren’t on board for California,” Steve demands, embarrassed that he’s angry at a sixteen year old girl for running away from home.

“God, you think you’re the only one who’s holding on to someone?” Max chuckles but it’s not a laugh. It’s mean and raw and bleeding.

Steve nods, reeling, drowning, sinking, flying, swimming, sailing--

"I'm hungry," Max says, and turns back to the T.V.

Steve loves Billy so he makes him something to eat, something heavy and full of starch to sop up all the bad shit inside of him. It works, for the time.

Max has three bowls, even though potatoes count as a vegetable.

They cram together afterward, three sardines on the couch clear of blood. Patched. They watch some stupid fucking cartoon thing until Max falls asleep and Billy can hardly keep his eyes open.

Steve tugs him close, says, "Let's go to bed, honey," And Billy comes, too tired to be irritating and awful. ‘S almost too bad.

When they fold onto the mattress Billy slots into all of Steve's empty spaces, a perfect fit of expanding ribs and tickling eyelashes. Steve pets over the knobs of Billy's spine. He focuses on the warm landing of Billy's forehead where it holds steady against his jaw, burning because of blood and split skin.

Steve tacks lips to Billy’s shorn skull, his forehead, his left ear, and tries to imagine death dropping his scythe on Neil Hargrove's cranium somewhere across this sleepy town. Wonders when everything became an eye for an eye.

"We'll be out of your hair tomorrow," Billy's lashes flutter against Steve's pulse, body tense and coiled and waiting.

Steve pets over his ribcage, says, "Don't be stupid," because. Might as well call it what it is. Billy tries to pull back, to tuck away, but Steve holds on tighter. Stubborn. "Why do you want to run from me so bad?"

"Not you," Billy says. Cramped and muffled against Steve's collarbone, "Hawkins."

"It'll miss you. So will Max," Steve says, petting over Billy's thigh, now, relishing the rough drag of boxer briefs against his fingertips, "Said she's not leaving."

"When?"

"Told me while you were cleaning up."

"What a surprise," Billy reports flatly, "Who gives a shit. She doesn't have a choice."

"Tell her that.”

"She's going. No matter what I’ve gotta do.”

“What if she fights you on it?”

“Then one of us will have blood on our feet, again."

Steve hums, fiddling with the hem of Billy's boxer briefs. Slipping his fingers under the lip. "You try and put her in that car and it won’t even be a fight. You'll be dead before sunset."

Billy snorts, rocking both of them. “She’s scrappy but I’ve got fifty pounds on her.”

“Sure, just muscle and good intentions.” Steve’s fingers tangle in the thatch of hair at Billy’s pelvis. It’s soft and curly, little blonde ringlets that smell like rain water.

Billy sighs, tilting back when Steve inches upupup his shaft. "Stop trying to get in my pants, Harrington."

"You have something I want," Steve tells him. It's easy to find Billy's cockhead, blooming with springtime mist. Steve smooths it with his thumb. He grins at the noise Billy makes, ducks to nibble at that cut jawbone. “You won’t be able to sleep if you don’t relax.”

"Shit," Billy says intelligently.

"Want you inside me. Want your fingers."

"Fuck you, I'm grieving,” Billy grumbles, but he cranes his neck. Makes room between his legs.

"I could take your mind off it for a little while,” Steve says. He untangles himself, shucking the covers and laying on his stomach next to Billy’s thighs. He smells like the earth, fresh and moist. Steve tugs at his boxers, mouth-watering when Billy’s cock nods and the popcorn ceiling.

“Steve,” Billy protests, choking on a moan when Steve swallows him down, teeth knotted in the feather down at Billy’s pelvis. "Baby, Max is in the next room."

Steve comes up for air, kissing the freckle at Billy’s tip. "She's asleep."

"You're such a whore,” Billy glares sharply, “Is this how it's gonna be every goddamn night?"

And.

Suddenly Steve's heart swells, pushing against the cavern of his ribcage. He must smile, must press love and lightning into Billy's forehead when Steve clamors to his knees and pets over the bruise there, so happy the bed's about to blast out from under them.

"Stop making that stupid face," Billy snorts, dabbing the saliva on Steve’s chin, "Lookin' at me like I'm gonna--"

"I love you," Steve says.

Billy shifts, his cheeks blooming pink, “Just sayin’ that because my cock is out.”

“Maybe,” Steve teases. Can't help it; every goddamn thing about himself. He's stupid, and happy, and so, so heartbroken. He licks at Billy’s cockhead, heart thumping elation through his limbs. "You're really gonna stay with me?"

Billy shrugs, fiddling with the stretched-out neckline of Steve's t-shirt. "I don't know where else we could go."

"California."

"Max said she's not going, right?" Billy mumbles, "And. You've made it pretty clear that you wouldn't either."

“I never said that.”

“Don’t have to say it, it’s in your voice?”

Billy’s talking in circles, feeding his insecurities because that’s what he does when he’s on the verge of something else.

“Oh yeah? What’s in my actions?” Steve slips down the mattress again and sucks Billy to the root, bobbing his head and opening his throat in earnest, licking and swallowing until Billy soft little noises splat against the walls like wads of bubblegum.

Billy groans, knotting his fingers in Steve’s hair.

His roots sing. “I’d go anywhere you asked me to,” Steve points out before Billy can speak. Sounds. Like swallowing rocks is his favorite thing. “The problem is you never ask me to.”

Billy shrugs.

“Ask me.”

“Steve–”

Steve pulls himself out of Billy’s hold and sucks him down again, swallowing. Only comes up for air when Billy starts writhing beneath him. “Say it.”

“I–”

“Say, ‘Steve, come home with me to California, I’ll teach you how to surf, we can live on the ocean–’”

“Costs a fuckin’ fortune to live on the waterline,” Billy stutters, mouth falling open with a groan when Steve spits on his cock. Works up a rhythm with the palm of his hand just so he can watch the way Billy’s stomach tugs at the waistband of Steve’s lended boxers.

He’s only a little worried that Max might hear them.

Not enough to stop, not when Billy’s throat opens bit by bit, little wrecked noises barely reaching Steve across the valley of air between them. Through the shutter of the blinds, Billy’s skin glows. Stardust and bushels of flowering lilac in the shape of fingers and fists, sprouting and withering along his neck and cheek and jawline, breathing and dying over and over and over again.

Billy cranes to watch him, lips raw and red and open, tongue lulling.

Steve cracks and splinters at the sight, at his wits end, at the height of all he’s ever felt–

“What?” Billy asks, chest heaving.

Steve climbs on top of him, swallowing the shock that flutters from between Billy’s lips. His cock presses into Steve’s ass, slick head trapped by Steve’s layer of encasing, rough cotton. It fits perfectly, just like the rest of him, like they were made for this. Each other. Finding solace and rhythm in the tattered edges of the night.

Steve sucks on Billy’s tongue, deepening the kiss. His thighs shake, his hips roll down, startling the air from Steve’s lungs. Or Billy’s. Both.

“Baby,” He says. Or Billy does, “Baby, I–”

Steve pulls back enough to see the tears clinging stubbornly to Billy’s lashes, drops of stardust stranded in bright blue skies. He wipes them away with his thumb, pressing their lips together in a chaste, sweet kiss.

Chokes on a thousand things. What he could’ve said, on all those other nights. What he isn’t saying now. What he’ll have to stumble over tomorrow so that things can get started on a solid foundation–

It all, just. Dies.

Steve rolls his hips, “I love you,” He says, breaking like waves where Billy’s skin is the shore. “Let me make love to you.”

Because it’s all that matters.

Uncertainty flashes, bright as lightning, across Billy’s face, and then it’s gone. “Okay,” He says, “Alright.”

–

“I lied,” Steve tells him, to distract from the places they’re stuck together, the swatches where they’re bruised and cut and bleeding, “I tried to run away, once. When I was seven.”

Billy hums, his cheek warm and sticky over Steve’s rib cage. “Did you hear what I said?” Steve asks, chuckling, “Not gonna fall asleep, are you?”

“Thought you wanted me to relax.”

“I do.”

“Well, I am,” Billy tells him, “Your pussy’s magic–”

“Don’t say pussy when I’m talking about running away from home, that’s gross.” Steve yelps, wiggling when Billy’s teeth close around his nipple and tug. “Ow, shithead, this is important–”

“What, mommy and daddy didn’t get you the yacht you asked for for christmas so you ran away from home for twenty minutes?” Billy snaps, but there’s no heat. No fire.

“Not exactly,” Steve shrugs, rustling Billy’s head back onto his chest. “My grandma had come to stay with us for a while. She was sick. Dying, actually, but I was too young to notice. She never looked sick, she was constant. Still cooked dinner for us. Still holy-rolled until I cleaned my room. She took care of me.”

Billy’s arm tightens around Steve’s waist. Subtle and constant, too.

“When she finally passed on, I just. Didn’t want to be with my parents anymore,” Steve swallows, nearly strangling himself on the lump in his throat, “Look. They never hurt me, Billy, not like–”

“--We don’t have to talk about this–”

“--I know I could never understand, but. When my grandma stayed with us I felt love. I wasn’t alone, anymore, she was my family. And after she was gone I couldn’t go back to the way shit had been before she came to us, you know? I couldn’t be alone in that empty fucking house anymore, I had to leave.”

“But you didn’t?” Bill asks.

Steve holds him tighter. “I didn’t.”

Billy twists, chin poking Steve in the ribs but it doesn’t matter, when their eyes meet. Steve pets over his forehead, his eyelashes, savoring the plush of his cupid's bow. Vibrant and alive. Free.

“Beautiful,” Steve says. A fact. A name, “I understand why you have to go.”

“I’m sorry,” Billy leans into Steve’s touch, seeking his warmth. “We all need to run away, sometimes.”

“I could come with you.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Billy says. He starts crying, soft as summer rain. Maybe he already was. Steve rubs at his cheeks, trying to catch them before they fall. “You’ve become the thing I run to, but–”

“--You don’t have to ask. It’s not some fuckin’ sacrifice, if you leave there’s nothing left. I don’t want to go home if you’re not there.” Steve says, and then waits, patiently re-counting the 297 freckles he knows form a village on Billy’s nose.

Billy thinks it over. Finally, he frowns. “So in this situation I’m like your grandma?”

Steve blinks, a laugh startled out of him, “What?”

“You said,” BIlly grumbles, brow furrowing, “You said that when she–”

“--I don’t want to fuck my grandma, that’s–”

“--God, you’re so annoying,” Billy rolls onto his back, jostling the mattress until all their blankets slither, ending tucked around him so Steve will freeze to death.

It’s so achingly usual. So soft.

“Baby,” Steve props himself on one below, chuckling when Billy rolls onto his side. Away. Steve pokes Billy’s shoulder, rocking him, “Hey, you goddamn brat, I was just—”

“--I didn’t mean that you want to fuck your grandma, you psycho, I meant. Like. You said that when she wasn’t home you couldn’t go back.”

Steve’s hand rests on the blanket between them. He feels like a naked, sparking bunch of wire. Thinks maybe he said too much, or didn’t say enough, and now Billy’s imagining himself as a stout Italian woman in a clementine shrug.

“She would’ve liked you,” Steve says finally. Billy peeks over his shoulder, scowling. Steve giggles at him, “It’s true!”

“She wouldn’t be disgusted that I’m a cocksucker?”

“No. She was a muff eater, when she was in her twenties,” Steve says casually, laughing when Billy spins and sits bolt upright next to him.

“Are you serious?”

“As the heart attack that killed my papa, who she never really loved,” Steve rights himself, shuffling until their legs are nestled together, until he can kiss and suck on Billy’s pulse.

“Stop that,” Billy says thinly.

“No.”

“You can’t just say that your dead lesbian grandma would like me.”

Steve licks at Billy’s earlobe, tasting blood and isopropyl, and the hiss of metal shears. “Why not?”

“Because,” Billy sighs, fingernails digging into Steve’s right and left kneecaps, “Because then I’ll want to stay with you forever.”

Steve pulls back, confused, “You don’t want to stay with me forever now?”

“You’re an idiot–”

“--Who loves you.”

“Such a dumbass–”

“--Who’s gonna work two extra jobs to get you and your sister to California,” Steve says. Hands topping Billy’s like stubborn barley thistle. Rooting him in place. “I’m gonna do it and you don’t even have to ask.”

Billy shakes his head.

Steve holds on tighter. “I’m serious. I’m gonna give you the world, even if it means we stay here for a while, until we can save up the money. Until it’s not dark out anymore, right?”

A hundred emotions struggle on Billy’s face, each one fighting for dominance. Finally, “Until daybreak?”

Steve nods. “Daylight.”

#harringrove #harringrove relay race #angst with a happy ending #hurt and comfort #listen #this was going to be something else entirely and then i ran out of time lol #more to come on that story soon!

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saltofmercury · 1 year

Text

Perception

Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x reader

A/N: I hope I did this some justice!!! Brown eyes are amazing 🫶🏻

"Perception"

“You gon’ miss me when I’m gone, hen?”

Leaning against the kitchen counter, one arm propping him up as he drank chocolate milk, Johnny eyed you in your living room organizing books. Sitting on the floor, legs criss crossed, as you continued to toy with a color scheme for your books. You peeped your head back and rolled your eyes.

You scoffed,

“Yeah who’s going to kill the spiders?”

You were in no mood to talk. The little back and forth chase between Johnny and yourself had been happening for over 3 months. What you had planned to be a one night stand, ended up unraveling as multiple occurrences, multiple meetups between you two. It seemed as though the universe had different plans for you.

You had long forgotten about him. (Not really) Johnny had lingered by your door holding on your chin with his massive hand, towering over you, kissing you repeatedly.

“Thanks bonnie, fucks sake you’re really something else.” Lingering on your lips until 4AM.

With that he had disappeared.

A week after your hookup you had gone into a coffee shop to indulge in their chocolate chip cookies. Sure enough, Johnny was there having a cup of tea, mouth full of a dry scone. He peered right at you as you had paid, motioning you to come sit.

“Fancy seein’ you here. Are you stalking me? Was our night that good?” He smirked, towering over you.

“You’re in my country Johnny,” you said, rolling your eyes. The audacity of this man. He should’ve been gone by now.

“Good seeing you!” You grabbed the cookie you came for and walked out.

The second instance he had been filling his gas tank in the jeep he drove.

Your machine didn’t take Apple Pay, so you walked into the store to pay. After walking out, Johnny was there, already closing the fuel cap letting out a whistle as he eyed you up and down.

“Swear we got to stop meeting up like this, pet”

Your back radiated goosebumps. Just how small was this fucking city that you couldn’t hide from your one night stand?

“We’re not meeting up, I’m getting gas.” You turned your back and you loaded the gas in your car.

He laughed at you. “Aye, so am I”

“I’ll see you soon then?” he hopped in his car and drove away.

You finished getting gas and then hopped in your car. A candy wrapper had been placed on your windshield. You got out again and noticed it said “Johnny xxx-xxx-xxxx”

You scoffed again. Was he toying with you? The man was a persistent flirt if anything. You tucked the phone number away in your jacket pocket. If he wanted to fuck you so badly it would be on your terms.

How great that turned out.

Johnny practically made himself at home, visiting you Friday night and Sunday nights. “Ending the week with an orgasm and starting the week with one” — was the stupidity he told you.

Then it became “let’s make Haggis, treat you to a real Scottish meal.”

The national dish of Scotland that you had immediately regretted putting in your mouth. You suggested cooking a “proper meal” for him next time.

“Wha’ you gon make me a hamburger hen?” He pushed you slightly, making you blush.

“Fuck off I’m not a hamburger person”

“Aye and I love hotdogs very delicious” he continued to tease you. He never once saw you cook.

When you made him a pot roast, it ensured having him around all the time. He made small jokes about keeping you around and possibly marrying you.

“Need me a hen that can cook”

He saw how it made you blush and how it also infuriated you when he said things like that. Another way he loved getting under your skin.

Now you are here.

You were going back to the sadness, bitterness, and loneliness that haunted you at night.

Part of you wanted to speak up, tell him that you at least wanted communication when he left, but knowing him, he would dismiss your idea and talk about something else.

He spoke again from the kitchen,

“God… I think I’ll miss the milk here.”

You peered up from the book you were trying to place and spoke up. Defeated, you gave in.

“That’s all you’re going to miss?”

Johnny heard it in your voice. The small crack that emitted at the end. Your back was still turned and you focused on biting the edges of your tongue to not let the tears fall down your face.

He didn’t want to be honest and scare you away, so he said something else.

“And maybe your Sunday roast…”

You quietly excused yourself to the bathroom. “Hah, I’m going to have a shower.” Maybe the heat of the water would hurt you more than what he just said.

Neither of you brought it up again after that. Johnny apologized to you later that night, in only physical form, making you moan and shake in bliss. He kept the light on to watch your face release the tension from earlier.

“Watch me, pet. Look at me, I'm here.”

You made eye contact with him, brows furrowed as he was inside you. He looked at your eyes. Brown and spellbinding. He had always gone for the blue eyes, icy snowflakes that blinded him. However he noticed your brown eyes—loved that he was so hypnotized by them. Hues that brought him comfort and a place to be at home. God, how he would miss them, pacifying him and the simplicity of them, that made him feel so comforted and loved. He drowned himself in your eyes every morning, and swallowed them in his heart every night.

Two days later “Johnny” became “Soap” and went off in Asia to track down someone.

On the mission as they debriefed their next execution, Gaz, Ghost, and Price sat around a campfire. Once the team had a sure plan, they got sidetracked and began to talk about plans after this mission.

“Got any plans, Soap? You’re always traveling around the world.”

“Aye, might go to the states again,”

“Which American got you this time, MacTavish?”

Soap kicked the dirt beneath him and laughed heartily.

“Aye Gaz, you know me too well.”

He hit the dirt with the toe of his boot and placed his hands on his tactical vest.

“Should’ve been a one night stand, but man those eyes kept popping out everywhere.”

Gaz looked at him, attempting not to laugh. Every woman or man Soap met, he fell in love with. It was hard to take him seriously.

“Let me guess blue?”

“Not at all mate, it was kind of like Simon’s eyes”

“You mean Ghost?”

“Aye you ever had a haver with Ghost and see his eyes?”

“They’re brown”

“You don’ get it mate.”

Soap was frustrated. How could he describe your eyes that brought him comfort and warmth? It brought mellowness to him and welcomed him home.

Reminded him of the chocolate ice cream he shared with you one afternoon and how the bright shirt you wore made them pop out like the caramel candies he sucked on as a kid.

They reminded him of the sugary goodness he drank at your apartment while watching you do mundane things.

He would marvel at them when he told you to look at him as he thrust himself inside you. The sun speckled on your face as it heightened flecks of gold honey-amber, and brown swirling inside them. That’s what made him gush, that’s what made him come back and stay.

How simple your eyes were but consoled him and brought solace.

They would also bring fear to him when he took a joke too far and they would turn russet or deep brown, hiding your pupil.

“Aye…lass it’s a joke.”

The intimidation coming out in his voice. But how hungry he felt to come closer to you in such a vicious and wild state. He loved when they turned almost obsidian, you on top of him holding on and crying his name out.

He mentally cursed himself for giving you space in his head. The danger he could put himself in — distracted by you. He knew he had to end it. Fuck being this lovesick over someone in another country. He finished his mission, deployed back to his country.

A month had passed since the mission.

Plowing through the countryside, he spotted an oak tree. Its branches were wild and open. It held some leaves on its branches, but grew unruly high in the air. The brown trunk, the earth surrounding it, all different shades of brown, all emotions parallel from your eyes.

He rested by it. He missed you a lot today.

He missed waking up before you, drinking your chocolate milk while prepping your “bean water” coffee.

He missed coming to your bed, placing the coffee by your nightstand, climbing on top of you, legs on either side of you as he watched as you slowly woke up to the aroma of the coffee.

He laughed because, the sun couldn’t wake you, him watching a tv in the room couldn’t wake you, but the scent of coffee could drag you out of unconsciousness.

“Aye, so that’s what drags you away from death?”

You sat up, as he shifted back a little, still on top of you. Watched you drink your coffee and your eyes lighting up from the rays of the sun. A velvet shade of amber, lighting up your face, and making Johnny mesmerized.

He mumbled and thought to himself,

“That’s my kind of heaven right there.”

“What?”

“Coffee’s real heaven aye?”

He came back to the city, heading into a coffee shop, ordering a scone that wasn’t as dry as the coffee shop by your apartment.

He trudged home, watching and hoping the Earth beneath him attempted to swallow him whole. The guilt of leaving you. The sorrow that filled his stomach. When he arrived home, it didn’t feel like home. Your eyes weren't there to greet him.

He said he would be back within two months. Four months have passed. After the third month you continued your life without him. Your tears dried up, your bathroom no longer had his hair around. His milk carton is spoiling in the fridge, his socks with hamburgers on it are still in your drawer, along with the blue hoodie he left you that night.

Those are the only things that you hold onto. A stone in your stomach settles knowing he’s not coming back.

You wouldn’t know how to reach him anyway.

You wake up thinking how easy it was with him here. How much fun you had, getting a glimpse of domesticity with him. How you folded laundry with him, made dinners together, made love with the lights on because he loved seeing you unfold and watching your eyes disappear to a deep chocolate brown from euphoria.

Now you’re sitting in your apartment sorting the books you sorted four months ago, turning back every ten minutes hoping to see him raiding your fridge for the chocolate syrup.

Instead, a knock at the door—

You get up and open it.

Johnnys standing there, white, pink, and orange flowers in hand.

“Got dropped off in the wrong country, pet.”

He’s standing there in front of you, smirk on his face. He’s not telling you he almost ran away from you.

He hands out the flowers to you, you’re in disbelief.

You study him wordless, trying to get your brain to connect to your tongue.

He jumps back into your apartment, searching through your cabinets and fridge.

“You don’t have milk, aye…but you’ve got my syrup.” He clutches the bottle in the air.

You sigh out, “...yeah”

He looks at you, he sees the bewilderment on your face. He grabs your face and peppers kisses all over it before prying your mouth open with his, indulging in your tongue. He holds your face in between his hands, the lights in your apartment didn’t do your eyes justice.

“Over a hundred days without you, pet.”

“One hundred and twenty…” you breathe out.

He came back. He actually came back.

He’s got on a chain, a blue topaz stone hanging down and a darker yellow topaz right next to it.

When you ask him about it, he shrugs, says it so casually,

“I couldn’t find a gem dark enough for your eyes, but er–”

He holds the two gems in his fingers, shifting in his brain all the images he’s saved of your eyes.

“Just reminds me of us.”

#call of duty #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #john mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #johnny mactavish x you #iohnny mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mw 2

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carlsdarling · 10 months

Note

plss submissive carl ;( i want to make that boy whine and whimper sooo bad

Shut up and drive

Y/N and Carl are going on a supply run alone. Y/N is very upset with Carl's behavior and has to discipline him. Bit more of a plot, then sex. (I love it, it was so funny writing the sequence in the car haha). Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, sub!Carl, unprotected sex

You waited impatiently for Carl to close the trunk and get in. The place where you had parked - the parking lot of a large shopping mall - was not making you feel comfortable. Today, unlike usual, you had gone out just the two of you to get supplies. Rick hadn't been thrilled at first, but Judith's baby food and her diapers were running low, so he had agreed. You and Carl were good friends, but nothing more had ever happened between you, although you thought he was adorable.

At the mall you had found lots of kid stuff, including new clothes for Judith, and now the trunk was pretty full. You had only run into three walkers; it had been no problem to finish them off. Now you were on your way home, down a dusty country road, when Carl suddenly slowed down and pointed to a gas station on the right side of the road. Right next to it was a small store. "Liquors, beverages, wines, spirits," the sign read. "Do you think they have Coke?" he asked. There hadn't been any Coke in Alexandria for weeks, and the supply squads hadn't found any either.

"I doubt it," you said, but Carl was already steering the car into the gas station area.

"Let's go see," he decided.

Reluctantly, you got out. It was blisteringly hot, and you noticed that Carl's blue t-shirt was already sweaty all the way down his back, so that his slender muscles showed clearly when he moved. You would have liked to stroke him. To be on the safe side, you put your hands in your pants pockets. It was cool in the store, even freezing in the basement, and sure enough, there were three boxes of Coca-Cola. "Wow," Carl exclaimed delightedly. "Cold Coke!" He immediately began hauling the boxes upstairs and stowing them in the car while you collected bags of chips and beef jerky.

By the time you returned to the car with several bags of jelly beans in your hands, Carl had already gotten back behind the steering wheel. He was greedily drinking from a bottle of Coke. "Nice of you to wait for me," you said snipily. "I'm thirsty, too, you know." Carl looked at you with guilt and handed you the bottle.

"Great, after you almost drank it all," you pouted.

"I'll get you another one," he said hastily, fumbling with his bandage, and was about to exit the car, but you were faster than him, opening the trunk and taking out a bottle. When you got back in your seat, the straps of your top and bra slipped down, exposing the top of your breasts. Your left nipple peeked out, but you were so thirsty that you didn't care. You unscrewed the bottle and drank in great gulps, some Coke running from the corner of your mouth and dripping foamily down your cleavage.

"What is it?" you then asked indignantly, because Carl was looking at you blankly with a strange expression.

He shook his head, caught. "Nnn... nothing," he asserted.

You looked down, and suddenly it was all clear to you. You grinned. "You're staring at my breasts, and it's turning you on," you said teasingly.

"No, that's not true," Carl denied, blushing.

"Yes, it is true," you insisted. Now you also noticed that he had a visible bulge in his jeans - even though he was desperately trying to hide it. You had to laugh. "Little Carl is all horny just because he saw a nipple?" you teased him.

His mouth opened and closed in embarrassment. "Well... it's not like that, I..."

"All right, if you say so. I thought you might want to fuck me. After all, we're all alone, so the chance would be perfect. But if not, fine, we'll just go home. So shut up and drive."

Carl didn't know what to say. "I... well, if you ask like that... I'd like to..."

"What exactly would you like, Carl?" you asked dumbly.

"You... um, fuck you." He cleared his throat.

"I don't know if you deserve it," you chided him. "After that thing with the Coke, and after you stared at me so brazenly."

"I'm sorry," Carl said with a lowered gaze. "Couldn't we... just have sex anyway?"

"I don't know," you made him squirm, teasingly stroking his right knee. You hadn't missed the wet stain forming on the fabric of his jeans. "Are you horny or not?"

"Yes," Carl admitted sheepishly. "Please, can you..." You touched his lips gentle with yours, and for a while you were just kissing, but Carl pressed impatiently against you, letting his hands wander over your curves, caressing. His body was all hot, his breath went frantically.

"Not so fast," you scolded him, even though your pussy was throbbing with want. "And somehow it's too uncomfortable here anyway. I don't want to make out in the car, so we'd better not."

Carl looked utterly desperate. "Over there," he said, pointing to a meadow where there was a big tree. "We can get the blanket out of the trunk." He didn't wait for your reaction, but exited immediately. It amused you how needy and submissive he was, so you followed him to the tree where he spread the blanket in the grass and took off his t-shirt and threw it aside. You lay down next to each other on the blanket and shared caresses and kisses for a while. Carl became more and more aroused and began to moan and whimper softly, clinging to you, so you finally undid his belt and stripped him of his jeans and boxers.

His cock was pretty, hard as a rod, the tip glistening with moisture. "Please, Y/N," Carl begged whiney, sprawled on the blanket. "Please, undress, too." Deliberately slowly, you removed your top and bra, then your skirt and panties. You spread your legs slightly and showed Carl your pussy, which was already all wet and reddish, its lips slightly swollen. The sight of it made that a large amount of precum leaked out of Carl's cock. His eyes were all glazed over, his cheeks red from desire. He looked beautiful; he was so damn cute. "Please come here," he whimpered again, but you didn't think to give him what he wanted so much just yet. Again and again you stroked him, kissed him, gave his cock little licks and rubbed against him, but each time Carl tried to lay on top of you and to penetrate you, you withdrew from him and pushed him away. Finally, he held you tightly. "Please, please, Y/N," he murmured in your ear, raking his hand through your hair, "let me fuck you now. I promise you'll like it."

You decided you'd tormented him long enough, besides, you couldn't wait to be railed by him yourself; if it didn't happen soon, you'd cum before you even really got started. Carl positioned himself between your spread legs and you let him slip inside you. You took a sharp breath, he was so hard, he filled you completely and it felt wonderful. "Fuck, Y/N, you're so wet," he moaned and immediately started thrusting.

It didn't take long for you to cum and arch up under him, clawing your fingernails into his back. "Oh God, Carl," you sighed, wrapping your legs around his hips as he increased his pace. "Fuck me harder," you commanded, whereupon he lifted himself up and thrust hard into you, over and over, bringing you to multiple orgasms before he ejaculated into you with a scream, rode out his own orgasm and remained on top of you, breathing heavily. Sticky and sweaty, you were resting in the shade of the tree. Carl's cock went limp and slipped out of you, and you lay side by side looking at each other and kissing.

"I told you you'd like it," Carl murmured sleepily. The summer wind was brushing over you.

"I had to punish you for the Coke," you emphasized, kissing him on the forehead and the tip of his nose.

#the walking dead #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes smut #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes #carl fanfiction #carl grimes imagines #twd

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blackashbluephoenix · 6 months

Text

Had this idea but it doesn't fit into either of my WIPs so I'm giving it to the community.

Harvey and Mike are driving. They're bantering lightly, Mike had a case file in his lap. There's light music on in the background. Mike feels safe in the front seat- he always does when Harvey's driving. Anyone else, he fidgits nervously, squirms. The longer the ride, the worse it gets. But Harvey has both hands on the wheel, hovers a mile or two under the speed limit. He focuses on the road. Mike knows he'd never let anything happen to him.

They drive up past an accident with all the stops- flashing lights, police sirens, an ambulance. The car is on fire, there are bodies being pulled from the wreck.

Before they can get close enough to see any details though, Harvey reaches over and turns Mike's face to him. They've slowed to a crawl now because of traffic passing the accident, there's no danger in taking one hand off the wheel.

"Look at me, sweetheart." He orders softly. "Just keep looking at me."

Harvey doesn't try to restart the banter. He doesn't try to smile or pretend it's not bad. But he can put on a poker face for Mike's sake. He can look stoic, in control. He can breathe normally. He can use the word sweetheart, a word he normally only whispers to him in moments when they are alone and at their most intimate.

"Just look at me, sweetheart."

Because one real glimpse of that accident and that image will be burned permanently into Mike's beautiful mind. Having a memory like his is both a blessing and a curse, as Harvey has come to find out. And right now, if he lets Mike look at that, if he allows that image into Mike's mind... It will torment him. It will creep into thoughts when they're at work, at home. It will etch itself into his nightmares, add itself to what Mike imagines his parents' last moments were like. He won't be able to comfortably get into a car for weeks, will worry when Harvey steps foot in one, even if they're both in the backseat and Ray is the one driving.

"Just keep looking at me. Don't think about anything else."

He pulls the car into a lane away from the accident as soon as he can, creating some distance and removing some of the morbid temptation to look as he does so. Mike's not the eager to please puppy he once was, but he obeys this particular order even after Harvey drops his hand. He nods, ducks his head slightly. He can't quite look at Harvey's eyes, but he can still focus on the rest of him. As long as he's looking at Harvey, his mind is protected from whatever else he might see right now.

They're both quiet when the traffic lets up. Harvey puts both hands back on the wheel. Drops his speed limit down to five miles below, moves to the slow lane. Tries to ignore the way Mike is white knuckling the armrest or the way he wants to take his hand. Touch would help right now, certainly, but not if it compromises his driving abilities.

They pull into a gas station about an hour from the city. Harvey wouldn't have stopped- he wants to take Mike straight home- but the gas light is on. When he puts the car in park, Mike takes a long deep breath as though he's been holding onto it for far too long.

"We'll be home soon." Harvey says softly. He reaches over, brushes his fingers over the back of Mike's neck. Relishes in the way Mike instantly leans into him, even if the angle is awkward because of the console between them.

"Thank you." Mike says quietly. He seems a little better now. Okay until Harvey can get him home at least. He can spoil him when they're there- Order a pizza with stuffed crust, crack open one of those cheap beers Mike likes for some reason. Maybe tuck him into one of Harvey's hoodies before he pulls Mike down onto to his chest and they settle in on the couch with a wide selection of movies. He'll hold him a little bit tighter and speak just a little softer. Maybe it will be enough to keep the nightmares away.

For now he just kisses Mike's hand, then his temple before he gets out to pump gas. Smiles in relief when Mike eventually gets out and wanders into the gas station, returning with a highly disproportionate amount of junk food to the time they have left on this trip.

He'll be okay. Harvey will make sure of it.

#marvey #mike x harvey #Un'beta'd #I'm definitely doing that thing I do where I switch tenses #but that's okay because it's more a prompt to make ya'll feel things #angst with a happy ending #because according my editor I live for that shit

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robobarbie · 1 month

Note

Robo pls, what is the backstory behind big marty??

if you are brave, you may read it

know that this is a tragic and terrible backstory but

it is important to know

just as important as big marty itself is

---------------

So, there's a man crawling through the desert.

He'd decided to try his SUV in a little bit of cross-country travel, had great fun zooming over the badlands and through the sand, got lost, hit a big rock, and then he couldn't get it started again. There were no cell phone towers anywhere near, so his cell phone was useless. He had no family, his parents had died a few years before in an auto accident, and his few friends had no idea he was out here.

He stayed with the car for a day or so, but his one bottle of water ran out and he was getting thirsty. He thought maybe he knew the direction back, now that he'd paid attention to the sun, and thought he'd figured out which way was north, so he decided to start walking. He figured he only had to go about 30 miles or so and he'd be back to the small town he'd gotten gas in last.

He thinks about walking at night to avoid the heat and sun, but based upon how dark it actually was the night before, and given that he has no flashlight, he's afraid that he'll break a leg or step on a rattlesnake. So, he puts on some sun block, puts the rest in his pocket for reapplication later, brings an umbrella he'd had in the back of the SUV with him to give him a little shade, pours the windshield wiper fluid into his water bottle in case he gets that desperate, brings his pocket knife in case he finds a cactus that looks like it might have water in it, and heads out in the direction he thinks is right.

He walks for the entire day. By the end of the day he's really thirsty. He's been sweating all day, and his lips are starting to crack. He's reapplied the sunblock twice, and tried to stay under the umbrella, but he still feels sunburned. The windshield wiper fluid sloshing in the bottle in his pocket is really getting tempting now. He knows that it's mainly water and some ethanol and coloring, but he also knows that they add some kind of poison to it to keep people from drinking it. He wonders what the poison is, and whether the poison would be worse than dying of thirst.

He pushes on, trying to get to that small town before dark.

By the end of the day, he starts getting worried. He figures he's been walking at least three miles an hour, according to his watch for over ten hours. That means that if his estimate was right, he should be close to the town. Unfortunately, he doesn't recognize any of this. He had to cross a dry creek bed a mile or two back, and he doesn't remember coming through it in the SUV. He figures that maybe he got his direction off just a little and that the dry creek bed was just off to one side of his path. He tells himself that he's close, and that after dark he'll start seeing the town lights over one of these hills. That'll be all he needs.

As it gets dim enough that he starts stumbling over small rocks and things, he finds a spot and sits down to wait for full dark and the town lights.

Full dark comes before he knows it. He must have dozed off. He stands back up and turns all the way around. He sees nothing but stars.

He wakes up the next morning feeling absolutely lousy. His eyes are gummy and his mouth and nose feel like they're full of sand. He’s so thirsty that he can't even swallow. He barely got any sleep because it was so cold. He'd forgotten how cold it got at night in the desert and hadn't noticed it the night before because he'd been in his car.

He knows the Rule of Threes - three minutes without air, three days without water, three weeks without food - then you die. Some people can make it a little longer, in the best situations. The desert heat and having to walk and sweat isn't the best situation to be in without water. Unless he finds water, he figures, this is his last day.

He rinses out his mouth with a little of the windshield wiper fluid. He waits for a while after spitting that little bit out to see if his mouth goes numb, or he feels dizzy or something. Has his mouth gone numb? Is it just in his mind? He's not sure. He'll go a little farther, and if he still doesn't find water, he'll try drinking some of the fluid.

Then he has to face his next, harder question - which way does he go from here? Does he keep walking the same way as yesterday (assuming that he still knows which way that is), or does he try a new direction? He has no idea what to do.

Looking at the hills and dunes around him, he thinks he knows the direction he was heading before. Just going by a feeling, he points himself somewhat to the left of that, and starts walking.

As he walks, the day starts heating up. The desert, too cold just a couple of hours before, soon becomes an oven again. He sweats a little at first, and then stops. He starts getting worried at that. He knows that when you stop sweating, you’re in trouble. It’s usually right before heat stroke..

He decides that it's time to try the windshield wiper fluid. He can't wait any longer - if he passes out, he's dead. He stops in the shade of a large rock, takes the bottle out, opens it, and takes a mouthful. He slowly swallows it, making it last as long as he can. It feels so good in his dry and cracked throat that he doesn't even care about the nasty taste. He takes another mouthful, and makes it last too. Slowly, he drinks half the bottle. He figures that since he's drinking it, he might as well drink enough to make some difference and keep himself from passing out.

He's quit worrying about the denaturing of the wiper fluid. If it kills him, it kills him. If he didn't drink it, he'd die anyway. Besides, he's pretty sure that whatever substance they denature the fluid with is just designed to make you sick: their way of keeping winos from buying cheap wiper fluid for the ethanol content. He can handle throwing up if it comes to that.

He walks. He walks in the hot, dry, windless desert. Sand, rocks, hills, dunes, the occasional scrawny cactus or dried bush. No sign of water. Sometimes he'll see a little movement to one side or the other, but whatever moved is usually gone before he can focus his eyes on it. Probably birds, lizards, or mice. Maybe snakes, though they usually move more at night. He's careful to stay away from the movements.

After a while, he begins to stagger. He's not sure if it's fatigue, heat stroke finally catching him, or maybe he was wrong and the denaturing of the wiper fluid was worse than he thought. He tries to steady himself and keep going.

After more walking, he comes to a large stretch of sand. This is good! He knows he passed over a stretch of sand in the SUV - he remembers doing donuts in it, or at least he thinks he remembers it; he's getting woozy enough and tired enough that he's not sure what he remembers anymore or if he's hallucinating. He thinks he remembers it, so he heads off into it, trying to get to the other side, hoping that it gets him closer to the town.

He was heading for a town, wasn't he? He thinks he was. He isn't sure anymore. He's not even sure how long he's been walking anymore. Is it still morning? Has it moved into afternoon, and the sun is going down again? It must be afternoon; it seems like it's been too long since he started out.

He walks through the sand.

After a while, he comes to a big dune in the sand. This is bad. He doesn't remember any dunes from when he was driving over the sand in his SUV. At least he doesn't think he remembers any. This is bad.

All the same, he has no other direction to go. Too late to turn back now. He figures that he'll get to the top of the dune and see if he can see anything from there that can help him find the town. He keeps going up the dune.

Halfway up, he slips in the bad footing of the sand for the second or third time and falls to his knees. He doesn't feel like getting back up, since he'll just fall down again. He keeps going up the dune on his hand and knees.

While crawling, if his throat weren't so dry, he'd laugh. He's finally gotten to the hackneyed image of a man lost in the desert, crawling through the sand on his hands and knees. It would be the perfect image, he imagines, if only his clothes were more ragged. The people crawling through the desert in the cartoons always had ragged clothes, but his have lasted without any rips so far. Somebody will probably find his dessicated corpse half buried in the sand years from now, and his clothes will still be in fine shape - shake the sand out, give them a good wash, and they'd be wearable again. He wishes his throat were wet enough to laugh. He coughs a little instead, and it hurts.

He finally makes it to the top of the sand dune. Now that he's at the top, he struggles a little, but manages to stand up and look around. All he sees is sand. Sand and more sand. Behind him, about a mile away, he thinks he sees the rocky ground he left to head into this sand. Ahead of him, more dunes, more sand. This isn't where he drove his SUV. This is Hell. Or close enough.

Again, he doesn't know what to do. He decides to drink the rest of the wiper fluid while figuring it out. He takes out the bottle and starts removing the cap when he glances to the side and sees something. Something in the sand. At the bottom of the dune, off to the side, he sees something strange. It's a flat area, in the sand. He stops opening the bottle and tries to look closer. The area seems to be circular, and it's dark: darker than the sand, and there seems to be something in the middle of it, but he can't tell what it is, so he looks as hard as he can but still can't tell from here. He's going to have to go down there and look.

He puts the bottle back into his pocket, and starts to stumble down the dune. After a few steps, he realizes that he's in trouble; he's not going to be able to keep his balance. After a couple more sliding, tottering steps, he falls and starts to roll down the dune. The sand it so hot that he thinks he's caught fire on the way down - like a movie car wreck flashing into flames as it goes over the cliff, before it ever even hits the ground. He closes his eyes and mouth, covers his face with his hands, and waits to stop rolling.

He stops at the bottom of the dune. After a minute or two, he finds enough energy to try to sit up and get the sand out of his face and clothes. When he clears his eyes enough, he looks around to make sure that the dark spot in the sand it still there and he hadn't just imagined it.

Seeing the large, flat, dark spot on the sand still there, he crawls towards it. He'd get up and walk towards it, but he doesn't seem to have the energy to get up and walk right now. He must be in the final stages of dehydration he figures as he crawls. If this place in the sand doesn't have water, he'll likely never make it anywhere else. This is his last chance.

He gets closer and closer, but still can't see what's in the middle of the dark area. It’s hard to focus, and lifting his head up to look takes so much effort that he gives up trying. He just keeps crawling.

Finally, he reaches the area he'd seen from the dune. It takes him a minute of crawling on it before he realizes that he's no longer on sand - he's now crawling on some kind of dark stone. Stone with some kind of marking on it - a pattern cut into the stone. He's too tired to stand up and try to see what the pattern is, so he just keeps crawling. He crawls towards the center where his blurry eyes still see something in the middle of the dark stone area.

His mind, detached in a strange way, notes that either his hands and knees are so burnt by the sand that they no longer feel pain, or that this dark stone, in the middle of a burning desert with a pounding, punishing sun overhead, doesn't seem to be hot. It almost feels cool. He considers lying down on the nice cool surface.

Cool, dark stone. Not a good sign. He must be hallucinating this. He's probably in the middle of a patch of sand, already lying face down and dying, and just imagining this whole thing. A desert mirage. Soon the beautiful women carrying pitchers of water will come up and start giving him a drink. Then he'll know he's gone.

He decides against laying down on the cool stone. If he's going to die here in the middle of this hallucination, he at least wants to see what's in the center before he goes. He keeps crawling.

It's the third time that he hears the voice before he realizes what he's hearing. He would swear that someone just said, "Greetings, traveler. You do not look well. Do you hear me?"

He stops crawling. He tries to look up from where he is on his hands and knees, but it's too much effort to lift his head. So he tries something different: he rolls over and leans back trying to sit up on the stone. After a few seconds, he catches his balance, avoids falling on his face, sits up, and tries to focus his eyes. Blurry. He rubs his eyes with the back of his hands and tries again. Better this time.

Yep. He can see. He's sitting in the middle of a large, flat, dark expanse of stone. Directly next to him, about three feet away, is a white post or pole about two inches in diameter and sticking about four or five feet out of the stone, at an angle.

And wrapped around this white rod is what must be a fifteen foot long desert diamondback rattlesnake, with a hovering tail and rattle seemingly prepared to start rattling, looking directly at him.

He stares at the snake in shock. He doesn't have the energy to get up and run away. He doesn't even have the energy to crawl away. This is it: his final resting place. No matter what happens, he's not going to be able to move from this spot.

Well, at least dying from a bite from this monster should be quicker than dying of thirst. He'll face his end like a man. He struggles to sit up a little straighter. The snake keeps watching him. He lifts one hand and flicks it in the snake's direction, feebly. The snake watches the hand for a moment, then goes back to watching the man, looking into his eyes.

Hmmm. Maybe the snake has no interest in biting him. It hasn't rattled yet - that’s a good sign. Maybe he isn't going to die of snake bite after all.

He then remembers that he'd looked up when he'd reached the center here because he thought he'd heard a voice. He is still very woozy; he feels like he might pass out soon. The sun still beats down on him even though he is now on cool stone. He still doesn't have anything to drink. Although maybe he had actually heard a voice. This stone doesn't look natural. Nor does that white post sticking up out of the stone. Someone must have built this. Maybe they are still nearby. Maybe that was who talked to him. Maybe this snake is even their pet, and that's why it isn't biting.

He tries to clear his throat to say, "Hello," but he’s too dry. All that comes out is a coughing or wheezing sound. There's no way he's going to be able to talk without something to drink. He feels his pocket, and the bottle with the wiper fluid is still there. He shakily pulls out the bottle, almost losing his balance and falling on his back in the process. This isn't good. He doesn't have much time left by his reckoning before he passes out.

He gets the bottle open, manages to get the bottle to his lips, and pours some of the fluid into his mouth. He sloshes it around, and then swallows it. He coughs a little. His throat feels better. Maybe he can talk now.

He tries again. Ignoring the snake, he turns to look around him, hoping to spot the owner of this place, and croaks out, "Hello? Is there anyone here?"

He hears, from his side, "Greetings. What is it that you want?"

He turns his head back towards the snake. That's where the sound seemed to come from. The only thing he can think of is that there must be a speaker hidden under the snake, or maybe built into that post. He decides to try asking for help.

"Please," he croaks again, suddenly feeling dizzy, "I'd love to not be thirsty anymore. I've been without water for a long time. Can you help me?"

Looking in the direction of the snake, hoping to see where the voice was coming from this time, he is shocked to see the snake rear back, open its mouth, and speak. He hears it say, as the dizziness overtakes him and he falls forward, face first on the stone, "Very well. Coming up."

A piercing pain shoots through his shoulder. Suddenly he is awake. He sits up and grabs his shoulder, wincing at the throbbing pain. He's momentarily disoriented as he looks around, and then he remembers: the crawl across the sand, the dark area of stone, the snake. He sees the snake, still wrapped around the tilted white post, still looking at him.

He reaches up and feels his shoulder, where it hurts. It feels slightly wet. He pulls his fingers away and looks at them - blood. He feels his shoulder again - it feels like his shirt has two holes in it - two puncture holes. They match up with the two aching spots of pain on his shoulder. He has been bitten. By the snake.

"It'll feel better in a minute." He looks up - it's the snake talking. He hadn't dreamed it. Suddenly he notices - he's not dizzy anymore. And more importantly, he's not thirsty anymore - at all!

"Have I died? Is this the afterlife? Why are you biting me in the afterlife?"

"Sorry about that, but I had to bite you," says the snake. "That's the way I work. It all comes through the bite. Think of it as natural medicine."

"You bit me to help me? Why aren't I thirsty anymore? Did you give me a drink before you bit me? How did I drink enough while unconscious to not be thirsty anymore? I haven't had a drink for over two days. Well, except for the windshield wiper fluid... hold it, how in the world does a snake talk? Are you real? Are you some sort of Disney animation?"

"No," says the snake, "I'm real. As real as you or anyone is, anyway. I didn't give you a drink. I bit you. That's how it works, it's what I do. I bite. Plus I don't have hands to give you a drink, even if I had water just sitting around here."

The man sat stunned for a minute. Here he was, sitting in the middle of the desert on some strange stone that should be hot but wasn't, talking to a snake that could talk back and had just bitten him. And he felt better. Not great - he was still starving and exhausted, but much better - he was no longer thirsty. He had started to sweat again, but only slightly. He felt hot, in this sun, but it was starting to get lower in the sky, and the cool stone beneath him was a relief he could notice now that he was no longer dying of thirst.

"I might suggest that we take care of that methanol you now have in your system with the next request," continued the snake. "I can guess why you drank it, but I'm not sure how much you drank, or how much methanol was left in the wiper fluid. That stuff is nasty. It'll make you go blind in a day or two, if you drank enough of it."

"Ummm, n-next request?" said the man. He put his hand back on his hurting shoulder and backed away from the snake a little.

"That's the way it works. If you like, that is," explained the snake. "You get three requests. Call them wishes, if you wish." The snake grinned at his own joke, and the man drew back a little further from the show of fangs.

"But there are rules," the snake continued. "The first request is free. The second requires an agreement of secrecy. The third requires the binding of responsibility." The snake looks at the man seriously.

"By the way," the snake says suddenly, "my name is Nathan. Old Nathan, Samuel used to call me. He gave me the name. Before that, most of the Bound used to just call me 'Snake'. But that got old, and Samuel wouldn't stand for it. He said that anything that could talk needed a name. He was big into names. You can call me Nate, if you wish." Again, the snake grinned. "Sorry if I don't offer to shake, but I think you can understand - my shake sounds somewhat threatening." The snake give his rattle a little shake.

"Umm, my name is Jack," said the man, trying to absorb all of this. "Jack Samson."

"Can I ask you a question?" Jack says suddenly. "What happened to the venom...umm, in your bite. Why aren't I dying now? How did you do that? What do you mean by that's how you work?"

"That's more than one question," grins Nate. "But I'll still try to answer all of them. First, yes, you can ask me a question." The snake's grin gets wider. "Second, the venom is in you. It changed you. You now no longer need to drink. That's what you asked for. Or, well, technically, you asked to not be thirsty any more - but 'any more' is such a vague term. I decided to make it permanent - now, as long as you live, you shouldn't need to drink much at all. Your body will conserve water very efficiently. You should be able to get enough just from the food you eat - much like a creature of the desert. You've been changed.

"For the third question," Nate continues, "you are still dying. Besides the effects of that methanol in your system, you're a man - and men are mortal. In your current state, I give you no more than about another 50 years. Assuming you get out of this desert, alive, that is." Nate seemed vastly amused at his own humor, and continued his wide grin.

"As for the fourth question," Nate said, looking more serious as far as Jack could tell, as Jack was just now working on his ability to read talking-snake emotions from snake facial features, "first you have to agree to make a second request and become bound by the secrecy, or I can't tell you."

"Wait," joked Jack, "isn't this where you say you could tell me, but you'd have to kill me?"

"I thought that was implied." Nate continued to look serious.

"Ummm...yeah." Jack leaned back a little as he remembered again that he was talking to a fifteen foot venomous reptile with a reputation for having a nasty temper. "So, what is this 'Bound by Secrecy' stuff, and can you really stop the effects of the methanol?" Jack thought for a second. "And, what do you mean methanol, anyway? I thought these days they use ethanol in wiper fluid, and just denature it?"

"They may, I don't really know," said Nate. "I haven't gotten out in a while. Maybe they do. All I know is that I smell methanol on your breath and on that bottle in your pocket. And the blue color of the liquid when you pulled it out to drink some let me guess that it was wiper fluid. I assume that they still color wiper fluid blue?"

"Yeah, they do," said Jack.

"I figured," replied Nate. "As for being bound by secrecy - with the fulfillment of your next request, you will be bound to say nothing about me, this place, or any of the information I will tell you after that, when you decide to go back out to your kind. You won't be allowed to talk about me, write about me, use sign language, charades, or even act in a way that will lead someone to guess correctly about me. You'll be bound to secrecy. Of course, I'll also ask you to promise not to give me away, and as I'm guessing that you're a man of your word, you'll never test the binding anyway, so you won't notice." Nate said the last part with utter confidence.

Jack, who had always prided himself on being a man of his word, felt a little nervous at this. "Ummm, hey, Nate, who are you? How did you know that? Are you, umm, omniscient, or something?"

Well, Jack," said Nate sadly, "I can't tell you that, unless you make the second request." Nate looked away for a minute, then looked back.

"Umm, well, ok," said Jack, "what is this about a second request? What can I ask for? Are you allowed to tell me that?"

"Sure!" said Nate, brightening. "You're allowed to ask for changes. Changes to yourself. They're like wishes, but they can only affect you. Oh, and before you ask, I can't give you immortality. Or omniscience. Or omnipresence, for that matter. Though I might be able to make you gaseous and yet remain alive, and then you could spread through the atmosphere and sort of be omnipresent. But what good would that be - you still wouldn't be omniscient and thus still could only focus on one thing at a time. Not very useful, at least in my opinion." Nate stopped when he realized that Jack was staring at him.

"Well, anyway," continued Nate, "I'd probably suggest giving you permanent good health. It would negate the methanol now in your system, you'd be immune to most poisons and diseases, and you'd tend to live a very long time, barring accident, of course. And you'll even have a tendency to recover from accidents well. It always seemed like a good choice for a request to me."

"Cure the methanol poisoning, huh?" said Jack. "And keep me healthy for a long time? Hmmm. It doesn't sound bad at that. And it has to be a request about a change to me? I can't ask to be rich, right? Because that's not really a change to me?"

"Right," nodded Nate.

"Could I ask to be a genius and permanently healthy?" Jack asked, hopefully.

"That takes two requests, Jack."

"Yeah, I figured so," said Jack. "But I could ask to be a genius? I could become the smartest scientist in the world? Or the best athlete?"

"Well, I could make you very smart," admitted Nate, "but that wouldn't necessarily make you the best scientist in the world. Or, I could make you very athletic, but it wouldn't necessarily make you the best athlete either. You've heard the saying that 99% of genius is hard work? Well, there's some truth to that. I can give you the talent, but I can't make you work hard. It all depends on what you decide to do with it."

"Hmmm," said Jack. "Ok, I think I understand. And I get a third request, after this one?"

"Maybe," said Nate, "it depends on what you decide then. There are more rules for the third request that I can only tell you about after the second request. You know how it goes." Nate looked like he'd shrug, if he had shoulders.

"Ok, well, since I'd rather not be blind in a day or two, and permanent health doesn't sound bad, then consider that my second request. Officially. Do I need to sign in blood or something?"

"No," said Nate. "Just hold out your hand. Or heel." Nate grinned. "Or whatever part you want me to bite. I have to bite you again. Like I said, that's how it works - the venom, you know," Nate said apologetically.

Jack winced a little and felt his shoulder, where the last bite was. Hey, it didn't hurt any more. Just like Nate had said. That made Jack feel better about the biting business. But still, standing still while a fifteen foot snake sunk it's fangs into you. Jack stood up. Ignoring how good it felt to be able to stand again, and the hunger starting to gnaw at his stomach, Jack tried to decide where he wanted to get bitten. Despite knowing that it wouldn't hurt for long, Jack knew that this wasn't going to be easy.

"Hey, Jack," Nate suddenly said, looking past Jack towards the dunes behind him, "is that someone else coming up over there?"

Jack spun around and looked. Who else could be out here in the middle of nowhere? And did they bring food?

Wait a minute, there was nobody over there. What was Nate...

Jack let out a bellow as he felt two fangs sink into his rear end, through his jeans...

Jack sat down carefully, favoring his more tender buttock. "I would have decided, eventually, Nate. I was just thinking about it. You didn't have to hoodwink me like that."

"I've been doing this a long time, Jack," said Nate, confidently. "You humans have a hard time sitting still and letting a snake bite you - especially one my size. And besides, admit it - it's only been a couple of minutes and it already doesn't hurt any more, does it? That's because of the health benefit with this one. I told you that you'd heal quickly now."

"Yeah, well, still," said Jack, "it's the principle of the thing. And nobody likes being bitten in the butt! Couldn't you have gotten my calf or something instead?"

"More meat in the typical human butt," replied Nate. "And less chance you accidentally kick me or move at the last second."

"Yeah, right. So, tell me all of these wonderful secrets that I now qualify to hear," answered Jack.

"Ok," said Nate. "Do you want to ask questions first, or do you want me to just start talking?"

"Just talk," said Jack. "I'll sit here and try to not think about food."

"We could go try to rustle up some food for you first, if you like," answered Nate.

"Hey! You didn't tell me you had food around here, Nate!" Jack jumped up. "What do we have? Am I in walking distance to town? Or can you magically whip up food along with your other powers?" Jack was almost shouting with excitement. His stomach had been growling for hours.

"I was thinking more like I could flush something out of its hole and bite it for you, and you could skin it and eat it. Assuming you have a knife, that is," replied Nate, with the grin that Jack was starting to get used to.

"Ugh," said Jack, sitting back down. "I think I'll pass. I can last a little longer before I get desperate enough to eat desert rat, or whatever else it is you find out here. And there's nothing to burn - I'd have to eat it raw. No thanks. Just talk."

"Ok," replied Nate, still grinning. "But I'd better hurry, before you start looking at me as food.

Nate reared back a little, looked around for a second, and then continued. "You, Jack, are sitting in the middle of the Garden of Eden."

Jack looked around at the sand and dunes and then looked back at Nate sceptically.

"Well, that's the best I can figure it, anyway, Jack," said Nate. "Stand up and look at the symbol on the rock here." Nate gestured around the dark stone they were both sitting on with his nose.

Jack stood up and looked. Carved into the stone in a bas-relief was a representation of a large tree. The angled-pole that Nate was wrapped around was coming out of the trunk of the tree, right below where the main branches left the trunk to reach out across the stone. It was very well done - it looked more like a tree had been reduced to almost two dimensions and embedded in the stone than it did like a carving.

Jack walked around and looked at the details in the fading light of the setting sun. He wished he'd looked at it while the sun was higher in the sky.

Wait! The sun was setting! That meant he was going to have to spend another night out here! Arrrgh!

Jack looked out across the desert for a little bit, and then came back and stood next to Nate. "In all the excitement, I almost forgot, Nate," said Jack. "Which way is it back to town? And how far? I'm eventually going to have to head back - I'm not sure I'll be able to survive by eating raw desert critters for long. And even if I can, I'm not sure I'll want to."

"It's about 30 miles that way." Nate pointed, with the rattle on his tail this time. As far as Jack could tell, it was a direction at right angles to the way he'd been going when he was crawling here. "But that's 30 miles by the way the crow flies. It's about 40 by the way a man walks. You should be able to do it in about half a day with your improved endurance, if you head out early tomorrow, Jack."

Jack looked out the way the snake had pointed for a few seconds more, and then sat back down. It was getting dark. Not much he could do about heading out right now. And besides, Nate was just about to get to the interesting stuff. "Garden of Eden? As best as you can figure it?"

"Well, yeah, as best as I and Samuel could figure it anyway," said Nate. "He figured that the story just got a little mixed up. You know, snake, in a 'tree', offering 'temptations', making bargains. That kind stuff. But he could never quite figure out how the Hebrews found out about this spot from across the ocean. He worried about that for a while."

"Garden of Eden, hunh?" said Jack. "How long have you been here, Nate?"

"No idea, really," replied Nate. "A long time. It never occurred to me to count years, until recently, and by then, of course, it was too late. But I do remember when this whole place was green, so I figure it's been thousands of years, at least."

"So, are you the snake that tempted Eve?" said Jack.

"Beats me," said Nate. "Maybe. I can't remember if the first one of your kind that I talked to was female or not, and I never got a name, but it could have been. And I suppose she could have considered my offer to grant requests a 'temptation', though I've rarely had refusals."

"Well, umm, how did you get here then? And why is that white pole stuck out of the stone there?" asked Jack.

"Dad left me here. Or, I assume it was my dad. It was another snake - much bigger than I was back then. I remember talking to him, but I don't remember if it was in a language, or just kind of understanding what he wanted. But one day, he brought me to this stone, told me about it, and asked me to do something for him. I talked it over with him for a while, then agreed. I've been here ever since.

"What is this place?" said Jack. "And what did he ask you to do?"

"Well, you see this pole here, sticking out of the stone?" Nate loosened his coils around the tilted white pole and showed Jack where it descended into the stone. The pole was tilted at about a 45 degree angle and seemed to enter the stone in an eighteen inch slot cut into the stone. Jack leaned over and looked. The slot was dark and the pole went down into it as far as Jack could see in the dim light. Jack reached out to touch the pole, but Nate was suddenly there in the way.

"You can't touch that yet, Jack," said Nate.

"Why not?" asked Jack.

"I haven't explained it to you yet," replied Nate.

"Well, it kinda looks like a lever or something," said Jack. "You'd push it that way, and it would move in the slot."

"Yep, that's what it is," replied Nate.

"What does it do?" asked Jack. "End the world?"

"Oh, no," said Nate. "Nothing that drastic. It just ends humanity. I call it 'The Lever of Doom'." For the last few words Nate had used a deeper, ringing voice. He tried to look serious for a few seconds, and then gave up and grinned.

Jack was initially startled by Nate's pronouncement, but when Nate grinned Jack laughed. "Ha! You almost had me fooled for a second there. What does it really do?"

"Oh, it really ends humanity, like I said," smirked Nate. "I just thought the voice I used was funny, didn't you?"

Nate continued to grin.

"A lever to end humanity?" asked Jack. "What in the world is that for? Why would anyone need to end humanity?"

"Well," replied Nate, "I get the idea that maybe humanity was an experiment. Or maybe the Big Guy just thought, that if humanity started going really bad, there should be a way to end it. I'm not really sure. All I know are the rules, and the guesses that Samuel and I had about why it's here. I didn't think to ask back when I started here."

"Rules? What rules?" asked Jack.

"The rules are that I can't tell anybody about it or let them touch it unless they agree to be bound to secrecy by a bite. And that only one human can be bound in that way at a time. That's it." explained Nate.

Jack looked somewhat shocked. "You mean that I could pull the lever now? You'd let me end humanity?"

"Yep," replied Nate, "if you want to." Nate looked at Jack carefully. "Do you want to, Jack?"

"Umm, no." said Jack, stepping a little further back from the lever. "Why in the world would anyone want to end humanity? It'd take a psychotic to want that! Or worse, a suicidal psychotic, because it would kill him too, wouldn't it?"

"Yep," replied Nate, "being as he'd be human too."

"Has anyone ever seriously considered it?" asked Jack. "Any of those bound to secrecy, that is?"

"Well, of course, I think they've all seriously considered it at one time or another. Being given that kind of responsibility makes you sit down and think, or so I'm told. Samuel considered it several times. He'd often get disgusted with humanity, come out here, and just hold the lever for a while. But he never pulled it. Or you wouldn't be here." Nate grinned some more.

Jack sat down, well back from the lever. He looked thoughtful and puzzled at the same time. After a bit, he said, "So this makes me the Judge of humanity? I get to decide whether they keep going or just end? Me?"

"That seems to be it," agreed Nate.

"What kind of criteria do I use to decide?" said Jack. "How do I make this decision? Am I supposed to decide if they're good? Or too many of them are bad? Or that they're going the wrong way? Is there a set of rules for that?"

"Nope," replied Nate. "You pretty much just have to decide on your own. It's up to you, however you want to decide it. I guess that you're just supposed to know."

"But what if I get mad at someone? Or some girl dumps me and I feel horrible? Couldn't I make a mistake? How do I know that I won't screw up?" protested Jack.

Nate gave his kind of snake-like shrug again. "You don't. You just have to try your best, Jack."

Jack sat there for a while, staring off into the desert that was rapidly getting dark, chewing on a fingernail.

Suddenly, Jack turned around and looked at the snake. "Nate, was Samuel the one bound to this before me?"

"Yep," replied Nate. "He was a good guy. Talked to me a lot. Taught me to read and brought me books. I think I still have a good pile of them buried in the sand around here somewhere. I still miss him. He died a few months ago."

"Sounds like a good guy," agreed Jack. "How did he handle this, when you first told him. What did he do?"

"Well," said Nate, "he sat down for a while, thought about it for a bit, and then asked me some questions, much like you're doing."

"What did he ask you, if you're allowed to tell me?" asked Jack.

"He asked me about the third request," replied Nate.

"Aha!" It was Jack's turn to grin. "And what did you tell him?"

"I told him the rules for the third request. That to get the third request you have to agree to this whole thing. That if it ever comes to the point that you really think that humanity should be ended, that you'll come here and end it. You won't avoid it, and you won't wimp out." Nate looked serious again. "And you'll be bound to do it too, Jack."

"Hmmm." Jack looked back out into the darkness for a while.

Nate watched him, waiting.

"Nate," continued Jack, quietly, eventually. "What did Samuel ask for with his third request?"

Nate sounded like he was grinning again as he replied, also quietly, "Wisdom, Jack. He asked for wisdom. As much as I could give him."

"Ok," said Jack, suddenly, standing up and facing away from Nate, "give it to me.

Nate looked at Jack's backside. "Give you what, Jack?"

"Give me that wisdom. The same stuff that Samuel asked for. If it helped him, maybe it'll help me too." Jack turned his head to look back over his shoulder at Nate. "It did help him, right?"

"He said it did," replied Nate. "But he seemed a little quieter afterward. Like he had a lot to think about."

"Well, yeah, I can see that," said Jack. "So, give it to me." Jack turned to face away from Nate again, bent over slightly and tensed up.

Nate watched Jack tense up with a little exasperation. If he bit Jack now, Jack would likely jump out of his skin and maybe hurt them both.

"You remember that you'll be bound to destroy humanity if it ever looks like it needs it, right Jack?" asked Nate, shifting position.

"Yeah, yeah, I got that," replied Jack, eyes squeezed tightly shut and body tense, not noticing the change in direction of Nate's voice.

"And," continued Nate, from his new position, "do you remember that you'll turn bright purple, and grow big horns and extra eyes?"

"Yeah, yeah...Hey, wait a minute!" said Jack, opening his eyes, straightening up and turning around. "Purple?!" He didn't see Nate there. With the moonlight Jack could see that the lever extended up from its slot in the rock without the snake wrapped around it.

Jack heard, from behind him, Nate's "Just Kidding!" right before he felt the now familiar piercing pain, this time in the other buttock.

Jack sat on the edge of the dark stone in the rapidly cooling air, his feet extending out into the sand. He stared out into the darkness, listening to the wind stir the sand, occasionally rubbing his butt where he'd been recently bitten.

Nate had left for a little while, had come back with a desert-rodent-shaped bulge somewhere in his middle, and was now wrapped back around the lever, his tongue flicking out into the desert night's air the only sign that he was still awake.

Occasionally Jack, with his toes absentmindedly digging in the sand while he thought, would ask Nate a question without turning around.

"Nate, do accidents count?"

Nate lifted his head a little bit. "What do you mean, Jack?"

Jack tilted his head back like he was looking at the stars. "You know, accidents. If I accidentally fall on the lever, without meaning to, does that still wipe out humanity?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it does, Jack. I'd suggest you be careful about that if you start feeling wobbly," said Nate with some amusement.

A little later - "Does it have to be me that pulls the lever?" asked Jack.

"That's the rule, Jack. Nobody else can pull it," answered Nate.

"No," Jack shook his head, "I meant does it have to be my hand? Could I pull the lever with a rope tied around it? Or push it with a stick? Or throw a rock?"

"Yes, those should work," replied Nate. "Though I'm not sure how complicated you could get. Samuel thought about trying to build some kind of remote control for it once, but gave it up. Everything he'd build would be gone by the next sunrise, if it was touching the stone, or over it. I told him that in the past others that had been bound had tried to bury the lever so they wouldn't be tempted to pull it, but every time the stones or sand or whatever had disappeared."

"Wow," said Jack, "Cool." Jack leaned back until only his elbows kept him off of the stone and looked up into the sky.

"Nate, how long did Samuel live? One of his wishes was for health too, right?" asked Jack.

"Yes," replied Nate, "it was. He lived 167 years, Jack."

"Wow, 167 years. That's almost 140 more years I'll live if I live as long. Do you know what he died of, Nate?"

"He died of getting tired of living, Jack," Nate said, sounding somewhat sad.

Jack turned his head to look at Nate in the starlight.

Nate looked back. "Samuel knew he wasn't going to be able to stay in society. He figured that they'd eventually see him still alive and start questioning it, so he decided that he'd have to disappear after a while. He faked his death once, but changed his mind - he decided it was too early and he could stay for a little longer. He wasn't very fond of mankind, but he liked the attention. Most of the time, anyway.

"His daughter and then his wife dying almost did him in though. He didn't stay in society much longer after that. He eventually came out here to spend time talking to me and thinking about pulling the lever. A few months ago he told me he'd had enough. It was his time."

"And then he just died?" asked Jack.

Nate shook his head a little. "He made his fourth request, Jack. There's only one thing you can ask for the fourth request. The last bite.

After a bit Nate continued, "He told me that he was tired, that it was his time. He reassured me that someone new would show up soon, like they always had.

After another pause, Nate finished, "Samuel's body disappeared off the stone with the sunrise."

Jack lay back down and looked at the sky, leaving Nate alone with his memories. It was a long time until Jack's breathing evened out into sleep.

Jack woke with the sunrise the next morning. He was a little chilled with the morning desert air, but overall was feeling pretty good. Well, except that his stomach was grumbling and he wasn't willing to eat raw desert rat.

So, after getting directions to town from Nate, making sure he knew how to get back, and reassuring Nate that he'd be back soon, Jack started the long walk back to town. With his new health and Nate's good directions, he made it back easily.

Jack caught a bus back to the city, and showed up for work the next day, little worse for the wear and with a story about getting lost in the desert and walking back out. Within a couple of days Jack had talked a friend with a tow truck into going back out into the desert with him to fetch the SUV. They found it after a couple of hours of searching and towed it back without incident. Jack was careful not to even look in the direction of Nate's lever, though their path back didn't come within sight of it.

Before the next weekend, Jack had gone to a couple of stores, including a book store, and had gotten his SUV back from the mechanic, with a warning to avoid any more joyriding in the desert. On Saturday, Jack headed back to see Nate.

Jack parked a little way out of the small town near Nate, loaded up his new backpack with camping gear and the things he was bringing for Nate, and then started walking. He figured that walking would leave the least trail, and he knew that while not many people camped in the desert, it wasn't unheard of, and shouldn't really raise suspicions.

Jack had brought more books for Nate - recent books, magazines, newspapers. Some things that would catch Nate up with what was happening in the world, others that were just good books to read. He spent the weekend with Nate, and then headed out again, telling Nate that he'd be back again soon, but that he had things to do first.

Over four months later Jack was back to see Nate again. This time he brought a laptop with him - a specially modified laptop. It had a solar recharger, special filters and seals to keep out the sand, a satellite link-up, and a special keyboard and joystick that Jack hoped that a fifteen-foot rattlesnake would be able to use. And, it had been hacked to not give out its location to the satellite.

After that Jack could e-mail Nate to keep in touch, but still visited him fairly regularly - at least once or twice a year.

After the first year, Jack quit his job. For some reason, with the wisdom he'd been given, and the knowledge that he could live for over 150 years, working in a nine to five job for someone else didn't seem that worthwhile any more. Jack went back to school.

Eventually, Jack started writing. Perhaps because of the wisdom, or perhaps because of his new perspective, he wrote well. People liked what he wrote, and he became well known for it. After a time, Jack bought an RV and started traveling around the country for book signings and readings.

But, he still remembered to drop by and visit Nate occasionally.

On one of the visits Nate seemed quieter than usual. Not that Nate had been a fountain of joy lately. Jack's best guess was that Nate was still missing Samuel, and though Jack had tried, he still hadn't been able to replace Samuel in Nate's eyes. Nate had been getting quieter each visit. But on this visit Nate didn't even speak when Jack walked up to the lever. He nodded at Jack, and then went back to staring into the desert. Jack, respecting Nate's silence, sat down and waited.

After a few minutes, Nate spoke. "Jack, I have someone to introduce you to."

Jack looked surprised. "Someone to introduce me to?" Jack looked around, and then looked carefully back at Nate. "This something to do with the Big Guy?

"No, no," replied Nate. "This is more personal. I want you to meet my son." Nate looked over at the nearest sand dune. "Sammy!"

Jack watched as a four foot long desert rattlesnake crawled from behind the dune and up to the stone base of the lever.

"Yo, Jack," said the new, much smaller snake.

"Yo, Sammy" replied Jack. Jack looked at Nate. "Named after Samuel, I assume?"

Nate nodded. "Jack, I've got a favor to ask you. Could you show Sammy around for me?" Nate unwrapped himself from the lever and slithered over to the edge of the stone and looked across the sands. "When Samuel first told me about the world, and brought me books and pictures, I wished that I could go see it. I wanted to see the great forests, the canyons, the cities, even the other deserts, to see if they felt and smelled the same. I want my son to have that chance - to see the world. Before he becomes bound here like I have been.

"He's seen it in pictures, over the computer that you brought me. But I hear that it's not the same. That being there is different. I want him to have that. Think you can do that for me, Jack?"

Jack nodded. This was obviously very important to Nate, so Jack didn't even joke about taking a talking rattlesnake out to see the world. "Yeah, I can do that for you, Nate. Is that all you need?" Jack could sense that was something more.

Nate looked at Sammy. Sammy looked back at Nate for a second and then said, "Oh, yeah. Ummm, I've gotta go pack. Back in a little bit Jack. Nice to meet ya!" Sammy slithered back over the dune and out of sight.

Nate watched Sammy disappear and then looked back at Jack. "Jack, this is my first son. My first offspring through all the years. You don't even want to know what it took for me to find a mate." Nate grinned to himself. "But anyway, I had a son for a reason. I'm tired. I'm ready for it to be over. I needed a replacement."

Jack considered this for a minute. "So, you're ready to come see the world, and you wanted him to watch the lever while you were gone?"

Nate shook his head. "No, Jack - you're a better guesser than that. You've already figured out - I'm bound here - there's only one way for me to leave here. And I'm ready. It's my time to die."

Jack looked more closely at Nate. He could tell Nate had thought about this - probably for quite a while. Jack had trouble imagining what it would be like to be as old as Nate, but Jack could already tell that in another hundred or two hundred years, he might be getting tired of life himself. Jack could understand Samuel's decision, and now Nate's. So, all Jack said was, "What do you want me to do?"

Nate nodded. "Thanks, Jack. I only want two things. One - show Sammy around the world - let him get his fill of it, until he's ready to come back here and take over. Two - give me the fourth request.

"I can't just decide to die, not any more than you can. I won't even die of old age like you eventually will, even though it'll be a long time from now. I need to be killed. Once Sammy is back here, ready to take over, I'll be able to die. And I need you to kill me.

"I've even thought about how. Poisons and other drugs won't work on me. And I've seen pictures of snakes that were shot - some of them live for days, so that's out too. So, I want you to bring back a sword.

Nate turned away to look back to the dune that Sammy had gone behind. "I'd say an axe, but that's somewhat undignified - putting my head on the ground or a chopping block like that. No, I like a sword. A time-honored way of going out. A dignified way to die. And, most importantly, it should work, even on me.

"You willing to do that for me, Jack?" Nate turned back to look at Jack.

"Yeah, Nate," replied Jack solemnly, "I think I can handle that."

Nate nodded. "Good!" He turned back toward the dune and shouted, "Sammy! Jack's about ready to leave!" Then quietly, "Thanks, Jack."

Jack didn't have anything to say to that, so he waited for Sammy to make it back to the lever, nodded to him, nodded a final time to Nate, and then headed into the desert with Sammy following.

Over the next several years Sammy and Jack kept in touch with Nate through e-mail as they went about their adventures. They made a goal of visiting every country in the world, and did a respectable job of it. Sammy had a natural gift for languages, as Jack expected he would, and even ended up acting as a translator for Jack in a few of the countries. Jack managed to keep the talking rattlesnake hidden, even so, and by the time they were nearing the end of their tour of countries, Sammy had only been spotted a few times. While there were several people that had seen enough to startle them greatly, nobody had enough evidence to prove anything, and while a few wild rumors and stories followed Jack and Sammy around, nothing ever hit the newspapers or the public in general.

When they finished the tour of countries, Jack suggested that they try some undersea diving. They did. And spelunking. They did that too. Sammy finally drew the line at visiting Antarctica. He'd come to realize that Jack was stalling. After talking to his Dad about it over e-mail, he figured out that Jack probably didn't want to have to kill Nate. Nate told Sammy that humans could be squeamish about killing friends and acquaintances.

So, Sammy eventually put his tail down (as he didn't have a foot) and told Jack that it was time - he was ready to go back and take up his duties from his dad. Jack, delayed it a little more by insisting that they go back to Japan and buy an appropriate sword. He even stretched it a little more by getting lessons in how to use the sword. But, eventually, he'd learned as much as he was likely to without dedicating his life to it, and was definitely competent enough to take the head off of a snake. It was time to head back and see Nate.

When they got back to the US, Jack got the old RV out of storage where he and Sammy had left it after their tour of the fifty states, he loaded up Sammy and the sword, and they headed for the desert.

When they got to the small town that Jack had been trying to find those years ago when he'd met Nate, Jack was in a funk. He didn't really feel like walking all of the way out there. Not only that, but he'd forgotten to figure the travel time correctly, and it was late afternoon. They'd either have to spend the night in town and walk out tomorrow, or walk in the dark.

As Jack was afraid that if he waited one more night he might lose his resolve, he decided that he'd go ahead and drive the RV out there. It was only going to be this once, and Jack would go back and cover the tracks afterward. They ought to be able to make it out there by nightfall if they drove, and then they could get it over tonight.

Jack told Sammy to e-mail Nate that they were coming as he drove out of sight of the town on the road. They then pulled off the road and headed out into the desert.

Everything went well, until they got to the sand dunes. Jack had been nursing the RV along the whole time, over the rocks, through the creek beds, revving the engine the few times they almost got stuck. When they came to the dunes, Jack didn't really think about it, he just downshifted and headed up the first one. By the third dune, Jack started to regret that he'd decided to try driving on the sand. The RV was fishtailling and losing traction. Jack was having to work it up each dune slowly and was trying to keep from losing control each time they came over the top and slid down the other side. Sammy had come up to sit in the passenger seat, coiled up and laughing at Jack's driving.

As they came over the top of the fourth dune, the biggest one yet, Jack saw that this was the final dune - the stone, the lever, and somewhere Nate, waited below. Jack put on the brakes, but he'd gone a little too far. The RV started slipping down the other side.

Jack tried turning the wheel, but he didn't have enough traction. He pumped the brakes - no response. They started sliding down the hill, faster and faster.

Jack felt a shock go through him as he suddenly realized that they were heading for the lever. He looked down - the RV was directly on course for it. If Jack didn't do something, the RV would hit it. He was about to end humanity.

Jack steered more frantically, trying to get traction. It still wasn't working. The dune was too steep, and the sand too loose. In a split second, Jack realized that his only chance would be once he hit the stone around the lever - he should have traction on the stone for just a second before he hit the lever - he wouldn't have time to stop, but he should be able to steer away.

Jack took a better grip on the steering wheel and tried to turn the RV a little bit - every little bit would help. He'd have to time his turn just right.

The RV got to the bottom of the dune, sliding at an amazing speed in the sand. Just before they reached the stone Jack looked across it to check that they were still heading for the lever. They were. But Jack noticed something else that he hadn't seen from the top of the dune. Nate wasn't wrapped around the lever. He was off to the side of the lever, but still on the stone, waiting for them. The problem was, he was waiting on the same side of the lever that Jack had picked to steer towards to avoid the lever. The RV was already starting to drift that way a little in its mad rush across the sand and there was no way that Jack was going to be able to go around the lever to the other side.

Jack had an instant of realization. He was either going to have to hit the lever, or run over Nate. He glanced over at Sammy and saw that Sammy realized the same thing.

Jack took a firmer grip on the steering wheel as the RV ran up on the stone. Shouting to Sammy as he pulled the steering wheel, "Better Nate than lever!", he ran over the snake.

THE END

#bp ask #anon ask #big marty

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emo-nova · 1 year

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Instability of a Dollhouse

Written for this Prompt, know that there is mentions of a child being thrown into water to learn how to swim very early on! For the wonderful @plyerice27 :)

_______

Steve didn’t like the house he lived in. He says it’s just the house because it’s not his, never will be with the rate he’s going at, and the conditions put on to kill him. Though it sounds dramatic, it is possibly true. His parents could get up and leave in an act of deep rooted grief and let his body fester in a uncaring town in the middle of nowhere. A part of him knew that he would deserve it. His parents, especially his father, preached that he should be able to move around the house and know what to do and fix and clean after himself as well as know how to budget for his own future.

The way they taught him is similar to how his father taught him how to swim when he was younger. Throwing him head first into the pool and letting him figure it out from there and once he knew how to float it was quick for him to know how to swim. It took a minute but he figured it out. But then he was terrified of being in water and his father sent him to become part of the swim team to make him get over it.

So when he was thrown into this situation when he was eight, it was for two weeks, and he learnt the hard way that it was difficult but it was easy to figure it out on the first day. That being with the amount of money that he has for the period and having it stretch out for the time he was left alone, then came the housekeeping skills and then came the inspector. He met the inspector, a lovely lady called Kathy who didn’t speak much and arrived just after four-thirty on the twentieth of each month to ensure that Steve still had time to finish up the house, before inspecting the place to tell his father how he is doing with the house in his care.

Steve thought it was normal. A normal open secret that anyone with similarly money-pinching parents as him. That cold showers were mostly the norm, even in the winter, and that some days he had to skip lunch to allow himself to get some cleaning products that he was running low on or to get a certain pair of shoes that he had been eyeing for a while.

He guessed it was normal and carried on. Because that’s why Steve didn’t like living in that house. It was an ice-cube because his father wasn’t there or it was secretly holding the desert as it would be a waste of money to have heating as well as heating while he was living there on his own.

Steve had long since been used to switching off all the lights when leaving the house, making sure that the washing machine was finished and the tumble-dyer was also done before leaving. Making sure that there was plenty of supplies for cleaning under the sink, counting how many scoops of detergent, dishwasher salt and dish soap he had for the month before another piece of allowance was coming in. Steve was used to it.

Used to the cold house. Used to the colder showers. Used to the constant watch of the pantry dwindling with each dime being watched. Used to not having the right clothes for certain occasions as the ones his mother sent him weren’t exactly fit for school. Used to making sure that gas in the car was enough for the week, and the emergency tank in the garage he got when his parents were home from a few months ago.

School was it’s own issue with people trying to get a taste of the house, his parents money as his was going down the drain even as he watched it, his ‘perfect’ life. Which, he could see as that, with little to no pestering parents and little to no worries of when they would come back. But Steve missed that. Missed it when his mother would nag him for details over certain things in school, always happy to hear of his social standing. Missed it when his father would look at him with this small fraction of a glow of pride when he hears of his winning in swimming.

Today, however, was becoming worse by the minute. Steve could feel a cold coming on and he didn’t have nearly enough cold medicine to stave it off until his bonused allowance came, as it was his birthday was coming this month. The cold shower he had most likely made it worse as there wasn’t a fever yet. And then there was Tommy H. Carol wasn’t in due to some kind of family emergency that was most likely a vacation in disguise.

Tommy H, being stoked into a jealous rage about Carol being unfaithful for the tenth time this month, pleaded, “Just at your place! It’s, like, the perfect place to show up this guy!” Happily trying to butter up Steve to use the house when the Kathy would walk the halls of his house in two days time, as if being ‘King of Hawkins High’ would get him off in this department. “C’mon, Carol would be amazed by what I could do to fuck up this guy, I’m serious.”

Looking at him. Firm and certain, “No, I need to sort out things for the house, and I don’t have the time to clean up a wrecked up house,” Steve denied him, watching Tommy deflate and it never filled him with so much joy. As the person who would be getting beat up would be Tommy H, he didn’t have much social standing as he could only be used as a one-trick pony in basketball and was friends with Steve for years. Meaning he always got out of a fight scot-free when Steve would be the one pulling the punches for him.

“I could help,” Tommy said after a moment, hope in his eyes. Steve fiddled with a ball as he had to skip lunch to buy detergent and a couple other cleaning supplies for the day.

“I said, no. And that is final.”

“Oh, c’mon!”

Screech! Thud!

Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson was standing on the table. Long limbed and wearing plaid as his hair was still growing out in waves and curly dark brown. His wide eyes were set on Steve. As if the mere sight of him insulted Eddie. “Most rich-folk won’t understand in their perfect pearly ivory-towers, my dear friend! Where they have not a single thing wrong with their home,”

Tommy muttered something about Eddie being a weirdo or a freak. Eddie was making a well-practiced march across his table, “Where they would have an endless supply of warm water for a shower and wouldn’t have to worry about using it all or that it would cost too much!” His eyes moved from Steve, as Steve sat statue-still. “Where they wouldn’t skip a meal as they decided to pay more for clothes or where they wouldn’t understand the need to pinch-pockets to make sure there is still food in the pantry and fridge,” Eddie was loud, expressive as he have moving hands and contort his face into the most unhappy face he could. Steve’s jumper, slightly itchy and outdated by two years, felt like it was made of iron as he remembered how he had a shopping list written on his wrist.

“In their little world, they don’t know the meaning of a cold home because the heating was costing too much that year or that the budget needed to use some money for your birthday to make sure that you survived.” Hopping off the table to land on his chair, eyes flashing around the room to land on Steve. To watch and peer at his face as he said, “You wouldn’t know that, instability if it hit you, in that delightfully lil’ dollhouse, Harrington. Would you?”

Steve knew what that was like - what? No, he had a nice house. A nice pool. A roof over his head. Parents that were gone most days nowadays. Staring. Wide-eyed and strangely seen. Steve sat there.

Everything he knew crumbling. Crumbling and falling like boulders on top of him. Steve tried to use that practiced, painfully fake smile as he nodded. He had an appearance to uphold.

Steve carried on shifting the ball from palm to palm. Waiting for the clock to click to the next class. As wide-eyes pierced Steve.

Even when the ground stayed where it was. Steve felt it shake and tremble under him even in that damn house. He always hated that house he lived in.

#steddie #ficlet #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steve harrington's parents #are assholes!#eddie munson #steve harrington angst #steve harrington whump #stranger things #eddie stranger things #st #steve stranger things

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dvrk-moon · 4 months

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POPULATION 300 - JAKE SIM

TEASER 1

synopsis : it was some bullshit that jake had to stay in a city barely on the map called elmbridge rather than going to italy with his best friend. being forced to spend a whole summer there, all jake expected to be there was old people, not a girl who hasn’t left his mind since that one night at the gas station.

word count : .9k

genre : summer love, jake x fem!reader

warnings : mentions of suicide

playlist : tba

expected release date : next month lol

i. SUMMER TRIP TO NOWHERE

There were two things that Jake hated most in the world. Heights, and going away from home.

When Jake was five, before going on a trip to an amusement park with his mother, he was fine with heights.

But when his mom and him had reached the top of the mock Eiffel tower during their day out, and Jake had managed to watch someone’s last moments on the tower as they decided to take their own life, it was a different story.

The header: “24 Year Old Man Takes His Life After Plummet From Mock Eiffel Tower at Ark Island Amusement Park”. Forever engraved in Jake’s mind, he swore to himself to never intentionally put himself in a situation where he would be so high in the air that anything remotely similar could happen to him, someone he loved, or even a stranger.

On the other hand, the idea of going away from home just irked Jake in such uncomfortable ways that he grew to resent it. The resentment eventually turned into hatred.

So, when it was revealed to him that he’d have to spend his whole summer in some nameless town in the middle of the U.S. with his aunt rather than spend his summer in Italy with his parents and best friend, Sunghoon, naturally he declined. In what right mind would anyone choose an unknown town over Italy?

Clearly his aunt would.

No matter how much he tried to persuade his parents out of it, no matter how much he attempted to convince his aunt that taking him and his younger cousin, Huiyeon, on this trip was a bad idea, and no matter how much he struggled to make Sunghoon talk to his parents about taking him to Italy anyways — because they clearly loved Jake enough to at least try and do so — instead of ‘Middle-of-Nowhere-Ville’, all his trials ended fruitlessly.

Because two weeks after receiving the proposal of the trip, here Jake was, sitting in the passenger seat of his aunt’s half-working 1998 Ford Escort, trying to drown out Billy Joel by using his hand-me-down cassette player from his dad.

Seated behind him was assorted bags that each person inside the car had chosen as essentials to bring, Huiyeon: some old dolls she’d bought with her mom at an antique store during a trip to a small town in Oregon, her quilt since birth, dress up clothes, and of course clothes suited for a seven year old such as herself; Jake: about 20 different flannels, about 20 different cassettes, an ugly doll that he originally was going to leave at home, but since his mom considered it ‘necessary’, he packed it in his suitcase to appease her, and his polaroid; and his aunt, Seulyi: clothes you could typically find any 31 year old wearing, a picture book, a couple cassettes she had found for Jake, and some jewelry.

There were also more bags in the trunk, loaded with clothes. Due to the trunk space being so unexpectedly small, each person only got to pack two bags of clothes. The remaining things that needed to be packed were left in the bags in the backseat row, or left at home, due to lack of room.

A newly awakened Huiyeon interrupted the comfortable silence — aside from the Billy Joel songs from the radio — in the car.

“Are we there yet?” she yawned, stretching herself over as far as she could in the row without touching the bags that occupied the spot next to hers. One hand rubbed her left eye while the other one was shaken. “My whole body feels fuzzy.”

“Like TV static?” Jake questioned. He figured she was trying to wake her body up from falling asleep.

“Yeah. I feel fuzzy.” She responded, yawning a second time.

“We’re almost there,” Seulyi reassured from the drivers seat. Huiyeon and her met eyes from the rear view mirror, “give it about 20 more minutes, Hui.”

As Seulyi focused her attention back on the road, Jake took this time to fully take off his headset and pause his cassette.

“Hey, Aunt Seulyi?”

Seulyi hummed a half response.

“What’s the name of this town again? I forgot to look it up when I still had my phone…” Jake semi laughed. His phone was probably on his dresser at his house, or maybe in his parents room. Two days before the trip, they’d confiscated it in hopes that ‘he’d learn to keep away from it for a while’ and ‘he’d actually have to connect with people his age in real life’. Apparently, according to both them and Seulyi, the service there was horrible anyways.

What a load of bullshit. If Jake had to guess, the town would most likely be filled with old people, not anyone his age he could connect with.

“The town is called Elmbridge. The population is only around three hundred people, so it’s more than likely you’ll see the same people more than once while you’re down there.” Seulyi informed. “That means don’t pull anything dumb, Jake.”

Seulyi glanced in his direction, not in a way to berate him, but more in a warning way. Jake half assed a laugh as he turned out to face the window to watch trees as the car flew on the highway.

“Also, just to let you both know, we’re about forty five minutes away from actual human civilization,” she joked, “so this experience will be something interesting for us all.”

a/n : ive been formulating this story since 2020 LMFAO originally i wrote it with nct’s renjun in mind but i felt bad for emu having a sad ending for jake so here is his redemption arc

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stagpdf · 4 months

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Barty tosses the plastic bag full of gas station snacks to the back of the car and pops the two slurpees into the cup holders, Barty’s brown concoction of different flavors looking rather depressing next to James’ bright blue.

“Did you get the purple skittles you know I like those better—”

“Yes, Jesus James, I got your stupid fuckin’ purple skittles. And your chips too. Don’t insult me.” Barty scoffs at the idea, acting as if he hadn’t screwed this exact thing up the last time they went on a road trip together. It’d ended in an argument so bad James hadn’t even gotten a blowjob out of it.

“You don’t exactly have the best track record. And since you three refuse to give me any kind of gas money this is my pathetic form of payment for the trouble.”

Barty puts on an overly-offended face—mouth stretched open to the point of possible tearing, eyes wide, and a hand over his chest. “Trouble? As if you didn’t practically beg to come along.”

Given the audacity of the statement, James figures it his turn to play up how much they affect him and physically recoils at the words. “Beg? I did not fucking beg. If I recall correctly you were the one who refused to fuck me until I agreed to come.” James turns in his seat, giving Barty a full view of himself as he crosses his arms and just looks at him.

“Tomato, tomato. Who cares? You’re here now, let's not worry how we got to this point.”

James rolls his eyes, turning back forward to start the car and pull out onto the road. Barty messes with the aux, making sure to bend it just right so the frayed wires are able to function correctly. The quality of James’ busted speakers is ass, but it hardly even matters as Barty opens his big mouth once more.

“You’ll want to make a right soon to get to Evan’s…”

James tunes him out the second he hears Evan’s name, quietly seething as he drives. Evan this, Evan that. It would be too soon if he never heard his name or saw the guy again. Evan with his weird obsession with death, his off-putting demeanor, and a stare which sent chills straight to James’ soul. No matter how hard he tries, James just couldn’t get a read on the guy. Even now, years of knowing him, James still has no clue if Evan even likes him or not.

And that’s not even scratching the surface. Evan and Barty have this thing, and it drives James up the walls. It’s different from anything he has with his own friends—sure he’s close with Sirius and Remus, but Evan and Barty operate on a whole different level. It makes it all the more ridiculous how irked James gets because he knows well enough by now that it’s not romantic. It’s just weird. And he knows perfectly well he’s not jealousy because who the fuck gets jealous over Barty Crouch.

Not that he would have any right to complain or be jealous if it was romantic. Him and Barty are just….him and Barty. James has no desire for that to change. Whatever.

He cuts Barty off mid-ramble. “God, why the fuck did I even agree to this ridiculous-ass road trip anyway.”

Barty doesn’t falter. “‘Cause my dick’s so good you couldn’t bear to go a week without it.” Barty grins, it’s all teeth and his eyes are a little too wide. The metal of his smiley glints in the late-afternoon sun filtering through the windows. James hates it. He wants those teeth to sink into his skin.

He also doesn’t have a rebuttal for Barty’s response, knowing all too well that if he tries to deny how good Barty’s dick is now they’ll waste even more time as they pull over and he rails James into the backseat.

In the short span of time when James just glares at him, refusing to give Barty the satisfaction, the asshole takes a drag from his newly-acquired vape and exhales directly into James’ face. The flavor is banana split, or something equally disgusting, and smells downright rancid.

“Blegh.” James gags, reaching his hand out and shoving at Barty’s face, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach as he barks out a laugh, high-pitched and hyena-like. It’s a terrible laugh, really. Ugly even.

James never wants it to stop.

#hi idk what this is #felt like writing jarty and spit this out #my writing #jarty croucher #jarty #james x barty #barty x james #james potter x barty crouch jr #barty crouch jr x james potter #j/b

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flowhore · 2 years

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𝔏𝔢𝔱'𝔰 𝔤𝔢𝔱 𝔦𝔱 𝔲𝔭

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔱𝔴𝔬

𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 ˚ Eddie Munson x (f)reader

𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒 ˚ you and your bestie (Joan) decide to have a sleepover at the trailer park, giving you the chance to finally meet the loud-mouthed metalhead from school.

𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 ˚ eighteen+ content, minors dni, drug use, praise kink if u squint, hair play, a pinch of dom Eddie, dry humping, fingering, f receiving oral.

𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 ˚ 8.8k

𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑝𝑜 ˚ Let's get it up - ACDC 81'

𝑒𝑡𝑐 ˚ I plan on making a part 2 maybe even a 3 depending on if y’all like it. Sorry, this is so long but the brain rot for Eddie Munson is alive and well dahlings, Enjoy ♡.

⫘𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛’𝑡 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡/𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘. 𝐼𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒/𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 & 𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔 𝑥𝑜𝑥𝑜.⫘

New to Hawkins, Your mom decided to pack up and move you and your little brother for a fresh start. Not being the impressionable new toy at school after a couple of weeks, all the cliques picked up that you weren’t joining them, and you never really fit into any social clubs anyways. You just went to school and wanted to be alone, not fake being happy with people you didn’t like. This didn’t help in the friends’ department but at least you had Joan.

She was the first person that helped you on your first day scrambling to find your homeroom. You two have been attached at the hip ever since. Everyone else at school seems very stuck up and into the social hierarchy of high school. Joan didn’t give a shit just as much as you, maybe that’s why you both got along so easily.

Joan invited you for a sleepover this Friday night at her trailer. You were excited to get to know her more, the two of you never really hung out after school before. So you obviously take her up on her offer, packing your sleepover essentials in your school bag for Friday.

The final bell rings, stinging your ears, releasing you from Ms.O'Donnell's class. The torture of hearing her go on and on about the essay due this Monday and god forbid you hear her yell "Munson!" again at that loud metal head that sits in the far right corner of the class.

You gather up your things from your desk and look up to see Ms.O'Donnell walking furiously up to "Munson" behind you. Feeling bad for him you turn and shoot him a sincere smile. You've been on O'Donnell's bad side before. Your first week trying to juggle all your classes coming in weeks late, and she wasn't one to care for any excuses.

He looks back at you for a second but his view gets blocked by Ms.O'Donnell finally making her way to him. You shove your books into your already stuffed bag and get outta there fast before that rage is turned on you too.

At your locker, putting your books away, you hear a slam into the locker next to you.

"Augh- I hate high school."

You look over to see Joan's eyes closed frustrated at the day she had.

"don't we all,"

You nudge her to try and cheer her up with a smile.

She returns a small smile back at you

"At least we get the whole night to make up for today"

you nod agreeing, excited to finally get out of the house for once.

Joan and you hop in her car, You stop at the gas station for Slurpees and head to her place.

You had never been to the trailer park before, Once you finally arrived the smell of cigarettes and weed-filled your lungs, Intriguing you, wondering if Joan was into weed or anything so you could try something.

The stress from school and the move had you ready to try anything to take the edge off. You both finished up your Slurpees outside listening to the radio blasting from her neighbour’s porch, soaking in the start of the sunset.

Her trailer was small but just enough for her and her mom who was working a night shift tonight. The place was filled with the cutest décor, yellows, oranges and browns cascaded everywhere. She plants you in front of the TV with the task of finding something to watch while she cooks up some mac n cheese for dinner. After watching some TV and eating Joan asks if you wanted to go for a smoke with her.

"I never smoked before.."

You sound more nervous than you mean to but still hoping she will offer you to try.

"c’mon it's okay if you don't want to smoke just come anyway, I wanted to tell you about the shit that happened today at school."

You didn't even realize how long you two were mindlessly watching Tv together, The sun was already down. The trailer park was pitch dark except for everyone's small porch lights and the occasional string lights around some. The lack of streetlights made the night sky illuminate above you. She brings you over to the bench placed closer to the entrance of the trailer park, a little bit of a walk away from her trailer.

"This is my favourite spot, sometimes you can hear heavy metal playing at night, I’ve also carved 70% of the things into this table."

It seemed like just an ordinary park table but the closer you looked you can see the history carved into the wood. You both sat on top of the table, Joan places a cigarette in her mouth, you were a little disappointed it wasn't weed but what can you do. She illuminated her face with the lighter in the darkness and lit her smoke. Inhaling and exhaling with a deep sigh, Like the cigarette eased her troubles.

You sit back listening to Joan rant about her day giving her the occasional nod and "mm" so she knows you're listening and there for her.

You get distracted by bright headlights illuminating the area, a loud van charging into the park and coming to an even louder halt at the trailer in front of you. This didn't faze Joan at all, like she was used to it, she just kept going on talking.

A shadow with big fluffy hair climbs out of the van and runs inside. You wondered how normal loud noises were out here for everyone since no one else really cared or noticed, in your neighbourhood someone would’ve called the cops just for the noise alone.

You turn to look up at the stars mesmerized by how bright they were out here. Protruding out of the deep darkness of the night sky. You can’t remember the last time you looked up and saw so many stars, you’re usually in your room, never really going out at night. Even when you did the stars never looked this good.

The faint scent of weed starts to creep around you both making you snap out of your star-gazing trance. Looking over at Joan you hope she’s noticed it too. Nope, busy carving into the table with her pocket knife.

Smelling around like a wild dog you get her attention making her giggle.

"I don't got any if that's what you’re looking for, I thought you didn’t smoke anyways y/n"

Joan says to you curiously shooting you a puzzled look.

"I don't but I wanted to try maybe the next sleepover we can?"

Joan smiles at you like she never expected this side of you but nods in agreement.

Sitting up to look around and you see that fluffy-haired shadow sitting on their porch swing smoking. The fuzzy hair was illuminated by the faint porch light and the pull of the joint in their mouth.

The culprit of the smell.

An idea pops into your head. You nudge Joan and flash your eyes to the figure while smirking so she can understand what you're thinking.

She smiles back and winks at you, inhaling deeply like she’s about to dive into water,

"HEY EDDIE, YOU ARE A GENTLEMAN RIGHT ?!"

Joan shouts at the figure making their head snap in our direction immediately.

His hand shot up to his forehead looking our way like it would help him see us any better out here in the pitch dark. He gets up from his seat and jumps off his porch running over to us like a madman, making you both giggle. Stopping right in front of you both his feet kicked dirt from stopping so abruptly, he cleared his throat with a little cough

"uh - Hello ladies, you called? "

His voice was like velvet and the smirk painted on his lips caught your attention.

Analyzing his features you realize it's the "Munson" from your class. Still wearing that hellfire shirt from earlier today.

"hey, I know you-" you start

"-Ms.O'Donnell's !" he cuts you off

He scratched his cheek looking at you, now analyzing your features too.

"Yeah, uh thanks for that beautiful smile today"

He sounds a little nervous but changes that by flashing you a wink.

Your cheeks start to heat up as you shoot him another smile.

Joan clears her throat loudly to snap you two out of your trance.

"uh we wondered if you had any weed to spare, It’s a special occasion…I'm taking her virginity tonight."

Joan explains to Eddie with a smirk knowing exactly how that sounded. His eyes widen and his face dropped a little looking at both of you a couple of times until he finally spoke again. Scratching his head he says,

"i-i- uh yeah I think I have some uh hold on.."

He bows to you both dramatically “m’ladies” then he franticly runs back into his trailer like his life depended on it.

You turn your head to look at Joan and she’s raising her brow at you.

"what was that hmm?"

she’s beaming at you hoping for any juicy details on you and Eddie.

Rolling your eyes at her, knowing all she wants to do is gossip.

"I just saw him getting shit from O'Donnell today and gave him a smile, I don't even know the guy c’mon"

"hm okaaaay" smiling at you like she doesn't believe a word you say.

“well he’s the leader of that hellfire club at school, but I’m sure you know that already.” She teases at you.

“didn’t know he was the ‘leader’ but yeah they play like board games right?”

“Some say they do sacrifices and bring back the dead.” She says in a haunting voice holding her hands out like a zombie as you both giggle.

she lets out a small exhale once you both stop giggling,

“Eddies a sweetheart though, we both grew up together but we don’t hang much at school, I bought some weed off of him here and there, always a gentleman.”

You were excited to get to know more about this loud gentleman of a drug dealer.

Eddie seems to take his time so you both lean back into the table together to get comfier as you start to tell her about your day after she asked.

You both get distracted mid-conversation by the stomping of Eddies feet as he jumps off his porch again, ignoring the steps completely. Running over to us again, out of breath, he presents a mighty joint to us with a sinister smile.

Joan and you scoot over giving him a spot between the two of you on the table. He plops down between you. The three of you lay down on the table heads looking up at the night sky again.

Your senses are filled with the smell of cologne, sweet cinnamon. You thought to yourself, did he really go put on cologne just to smoke weed with us? Even though the cologne was strong it couldn’t mask the cigarette smell on him. You also notice his hair looked a little less messy as he lay down next to you. His skin looked so soft under the glow of the moon, almost making you grow a desire to touch it. You look away as you sense his head turning to look at you so you didn’t get caught staring.

Eddie breaks the silent peace,

"so, what are we uh looking at here,"

Eddie says confused looking at the same star-plastered sky as us.

"the stars."

You respond a little too snappy at him, giving him a raised brow.

Causing him to turn and look at you, the corner of his lip curling up.

"my bad sweetheart."

Holding his hands up like he was being arrested.

Making you giggle and shake your head, returning your gaze up. The way he said sweetheart made your belly fill with butterflies, stunting you. You’ve never understood the term butterflies in your tummy until now.

Eddies body springs up, folding his legs together and sitting up between us. He waves the joint in circles around your face and starts his monologue, in an old-time accent, his very dramatic hands start waving about,

"Here thee lays the sacrificial virgin of the night, as the whispering stars gaze upon us on this monumental evening, the deflowering of this lost lamb will commence this very hour, A burning of flowers to seal the deal..."

You both burst out giggling at his on-the-spot theatrics. Springing up to join him sitting. You also wanted to join in on the fun too,

"I thee taketh this token bestowed upon me, with gratitude and honour, thank you, masters."

You exclaim trying to mimic eddies voice as you grab the sacred joint held out to you in Eddie’s palms with his head bowed down.

You all laugh together and once it dies down you can feel Joan's eyes piercing you with her suspicions of you and Eddie. You don’t blame her, she’s never seen you this goofy and blushing a mess before. You choose to ignore her daggering eyes as the nerves of smoking for the first time start to set in.

Your stomach sinks, and now that the time has come every bad thing you’ve ever heard about ‘weed’ and ‘bad trips’ racks your brain. You look up to see they’ve definitely both noticed your mood change.

"It’s honestly not that scary y/n, it'll feel weird at first but a good weird trust me."

Joan tries easing your anxiety, her words making you relax a bit.

"y/n, hm she has a name.."

Eddie sounds like his curiosity was fulfilled finally, mystery solved in his mind. As he rubs his chin. Your name sounded so pretty on his tongue. You shake your head, trying to wash out your thoughts of Eddie that just kept getting more intense.

"Listen, it's just like ripping off a bandage, I can start it for you if you want. Show you how? Hm?"

Eddie offers to try and take the pressure off of you.

"No !" Joan protests at Eddie with a wave of her hand and a stern look.

"It’s her special night it’s goodluck to start it off with the virgin!"

You wave to both of them to calm down, indicating to them that you’re ready, enough fussing.

Eddie scoots back immediately so the three of you are sitting in a triangle, legs crossed, knees touching each other. A perfect weed triangle held together by budging knees. You put the joint to your lips and look at Eddie holding the lighter.

The stench of weed instantly takes over your senses as you watch Eddie examine you, making sure you're ready. He pulls in close to you, right next to your ear. You feel his breath on your cheek, tickling your skin. Your skin instantly starts burning at how close he is to you.

"you just pull, inhale, hold it as long as you can, then exhale, it’s easy don’t worry sweetheart"

He whispers in your ear sending shivers down your spine, feeling like your stomach will surely burst from the butterflies now. You both lock eyes as he pulls away, his eyes so warm and inviting, making you feel safe. You can feel how warm your body is like you have a full-body blush. The effect he had on you by just whispering caught you off guard.

"ready?" he says in a low voice, slightly raising a brow at you.

You nod at him holding the joint to your lips again, still not breaking eye contact.

He flicks the lighter on illuminating his face, you can see the spots of hazel in his eyes, the texture of his fluffy hair, and how full his lips are. Your thoughts trail off and he’s pulling the lighter closer to you. Lighting the joint, you try to remember his steps...

Pull…

inhale...

"Good, good, hold it" he coaches you.

You feel the smoke start to burn in your chest. Like a ball of fire growing bigger every second.

"okay exhale!" Joan chimes in loudly

You slowly exhale trying not to do it too fast but you start coughing for your life as the smoke clears your throat of all its moisture. You are coughing for your life. Eddie places his hand on your back rubbing it to help you out. The initial contact was missed due to your hacking. But the back rub is helping, you think, or maybe it just feels really good and is distracting you from the pain of breathing right now. Eddie and Joan are dying laughing and Joan is clapping at you. Making the most noise, your surprised no one has come out to complain yet.

"CONGRATULATIONS YOU ARE NO LONGER PURE Y/N!!" Joan shouting at you like we are the only people in the world right now. Trying to give her your best smile as you are still trying to catch your breath. Finally, you stop coughing, still feeling the hard sting in your chest.

Passing the lit joint to Eddie, he grabs it with his left hand that’s free, the other still rubbing circles into your back. You can feel his touch getting more and more intense on your body as you settle into your high, body senses being heightened, and his big hand rubbing you felt so good.

You watch him smoke like a pro, making you feel like a chump for coughing your life out. But the sight of him smoking made something in you awaken, watching his lips crush into the joint and then blow smoke out had you hypnotized. He was mesmerizing to you. He then passes it to Joan, she grabbed it with a bow of her head as a thank you to him. Making him crack a smile at her.

Joan took her hit but coughed a little, you wanted to get back at her for laughing at you and say ‘HA YOU COUGHED TOO’ but Eddie’s hand stopped rubbing you, distracting you from your thought completely. Immediately missing contact with him.

He put both his hands on the table leaning back into them as he relaxed, let out a sigh and looked up at the stars again but with his new elevated state. His rings and hair are highlighted by the soft glow of the night sky, eyes glossy, cheeks flush.

Joan nudged your knee snapping you out of staring at Eddie, "here round 2" she smiles at you passing the joint back to you. She too joins in the star gazing with Eddie as you start your next hit.

This time you exhale before your chest starts to burn and you don’t hack a lung thankfully.

"there you go, good girl" Eddie hums toward you.

Feeling startled, you didn't realize he's been watching you. You look over to Joan, She’s making a face, eyes wide like she noticed the way he said that too.

You try passing the joint to Eddie but he’s staring up into the stars again. Maybe the weed is making you a little too confident, you stretch over and place it on his lips for him. He grabs your elbow to hold your hand in place as he pulls from the joint looking at you. The intensity in his eyes makes you feel weak. His face is beautifully lit by the joint as he inhales, Eyes pouring into yours.

Finally, he releases your arm from his grasp and you guide the joint over to Joan. But notice she's got her hand on her head watching the two of you interact. You feel your cheek heat up and realize the two of you have been very touchy, well mainly Eddie. But you just changed that with the new confidence gained from the joint.

She shakes her head and smiles, grabbing the joint from you, eyeing you down like a hawk. Now you’ll try your best to resist looking at Eddie, for the sake of Joan and making her any more uncomfortable.

You start playing with your fingers instead. Maybe mumbling around your fingers will help your eyes from looking to your left again. Oddly enough it’s working, you start spinning circles around your fingers, making your own optical illusion for your high state of mind to fixate on. Mesmerized, until you get a nudge from your right. Joan handed you the deviled lettuce yet again like you needed to be any more intoxicated than you already are.

"well… how is it virgin?" Joan asks excitement painted on her face, beaming at you.

"i-its very intense"

You try to explain but your tongue feels like jello making words coming out sound weird. You feel how heavy your eyes are getting too, feeling like sandbags. You are not even sure if it’s Eddie or the weed making your body flutter with butterflies and making your skin burn from blushing. You really can't make out the difference, maybe it's both.

Eddie chuckles to himself "makes you feel like Jello hm ?"

Like he read your mind completely, making you second guess if you spoke your thoughts out loud just now. Nodding in agreement to answer him because words aren’t working for you at the moment.

"it always makes me wanna listen to music and just be. Ya know?"

Joan expresses herself to both of you, letting her inner thoughts out.

"mm m-music." you mumble out trying to join in conversation with her.

Making them both chuckle at you trying to speak again, seems that speaking is getting harder each time. You go in for your third puff making it very small, you know you won’t be able to handle any more after this.

"scared of the flower now?"

Eddie raises a brow at you grinning as he watches you.

Smiling back at him "no.."

You say sarcastically looking away as you pass the joint to him again. His smile makes you more nervous, scared he’ll notice that just looking at him is affecting you in all aspects, physically and mentally right now. And you told yourself to not make Joan uncomfortable anymore.

You noticed the joint is almost finished, you pray Eddie and Joan finish it before it comes back to you again.

Eddie exhales his puff very painfully slow, making your eyes wander over to him, big mistake. He looks so beautiful, smoke pouring out of his lips, you can’t help but admire him as he nudges Joan and passes the joint to her, you watch his hands.

The rings glisten in the light reminding you of when they were rubbing your back, making you feel so good. The memory of him touching you consumed your mind, you started to feel that burn over your body again, like your whole body was blushing. Just watching him had you like this, like you were under a spell, maybe it’s just the weed…it can’t be, look at him, he’s the culprit…

"The sacred virgin joint is finished, Congratulations little lamb," Eddie says with a clap snapping you out of your daydream. You look over and he flashes you a little wink making a smile smear across your face.

You rest your hands to your sides to hold you up on the table like Eddie and Joan are and lean back trying to relax into your high and mimic them, looking up above you.

Looking at the stars you try to find patterns and constellations, feeling consumed by the overwhelming amount of stars. Eddie’s fingertips touch your left hand as he shifts his position, so lightly, that you chose not to react to it hoping he will get closer.

The smallest touch sends tiny sparks up your arm, you can feel yourself getting goosebumps. He inches closer a little bit and you start to play with each other fingertips, it felt good. Not looking at each other you flirt with your fingers. It sends more tickles up your arm like electricity, more intense as time goes on. Still not looking at him, you look to check on Joan and you see her falling asleep in an upright position making you laugh out loud.

Your laugh startled her awake. Feeling bad for how loud you were laughing you put your hand to your mouth to muffle yourself, breaking the finger flirt with Eddie. She tried to gather any consciousness she had after being awoken.

"Guys I'm fucking exhausted" she confesses to you both with sleepy hooded eyes

"y/n, you know where my trailer is right ?"

"you don’t want me to come?" you ask her, concerned about why she’s trying to leave without you.

"no no don’t worry, weed always does this to me, enjoy the stars come back when you get sleepy too, I’ll leave the door unlocked for you."

you nod at her, shooting her a little pout as she gets up to leave.

Suddenly you realize that means you will be alone with Eddie, making you very nervous.

"well walk you there c’mon Eddie" you slap his leg lightly.

He gets pulled away from whatever trance he was in, and smirks looking at your hand and then at you. He looks up to see Joan up from the table,

"no ! Joan you leaving the party !?"

"Eddie, I’m legit a zombie right now, I need my bed."

He smiles at her and nods like he understands that feeling all too well.

He jumps off the table and stands in front of you holding his hand out for you to grab. You let him help you off the table, blushing from the small amount of contact with each other’s hands. The three of you start your journey to Joan’s trailer, you and Joan holding each other by your waists as you walk, Eddie waltzing around the two of you like a goof making you guys giggle.

“How come you two have never hung out with me at school? Am I too cool?”

Eddie teases you two.

“C’mon Eddie you know that place makes me want to hurl plus you have your little posse around you all the time.”

Joan seems a little taken aback by eddies question.

“The little posse is Hellfire club. You guys should join Hellfire, the game today was insane. You guys might be surprised how fun it is”

“Trouble finding members ?”

Joan teases Eddie back.

You watch them interact together like siblings, you can tell they’ve known each other long and talking seems so natural, the banter back and forth.

“AND WHAT ABOUT YOU DARLING?”

Eddie's voice raised stomping over to you, waking you from your inner thoughts.

“i- um I’m not sure how to even play.”

“well, I’m a wonderful teacher, anytime your free let me know.”

Eddie winks at you making you look away to smile. The thought of seeing Eddie alone makes your stomach twist, he makes you so nervous but you love the feeling.

Finally making it to the trailer Joan goes to hug Eddie goodbye, he pats her back and she whispers something to him that you can’t hear, you see lips crack a smile and he chuckles "anytime Joany" he flashes finger guns at her and she rolls her eyes. She comes to hug you, now whispering in your ear just like she did with Eddie.

"Good luck, I’ll keep the door unlocked for you… if you need it, love ya"

Sealing it off with a kiss on your already blushing cheek. She ran up her steps stopping at her door and blowing kisses at you two as you walked back to the table, shooting her kisses right back.

Once we were finally out of Joan’s line of sight and alone Eddie cleared his throat.

"so ah, how you liking O'Donnell?"

"you wanna talk about school ?..really?"

he scoffs at you, pressing his hand to his chest as you wounded him. His feet made a halting noise in the gravel. His dramatics made you feel bad.

“I’ve noticed she doesn’t care for any excuses” you nudge him playfully.

“Yeah, she’s definitely got it out for me.”

You guys make it to the table and you climb up to sit on the top, while he decides to stand in front of you.

"well, it’s been a very hard class for me, with so many distractions. She can’t really blame me" waving his hands around making crazy eyes at you.

"oh really?" you question playfully

"You actually seem to be the biggest distraction in that class, I thought your name was Munson the way I hear it every day."

His face beams at you, and a shit-eating grin smears across his face.

"You think about me every day? wow."

You roll your eyes at him. “please” you say low, almost a whisper.

His face softens as he steps closer to you, his body standing between your dangling legs. He pulls out a cigarette pack from his pocket, grabs a pen stuck into the side, placing it in his mouth as he puts the cigarette pack back in his pocket.

He locks eyes with you then down at your hand. He holds his palm for you to put your hand in, you flash him a questioning brow and place your hand in his. He raises his knee and places your hand on it, using his leg as a table, He starts to scribble some numbers on your hand.

The pen scrapping on your skin hard, the pen is almost out of ink. “sorry.” He whispers as he looks at your wincing face from the sharp scratches. He finishes and sticks the pen back in his pocket, he looks at his work and bends down, raising your hand to his lips, and looks up at you.

You’re watching his every move. He winks and presses his lips onto your knuckles. His lips felt so soft and gentle, sending waves throughout your body, you wanted those lips on yours. You wanted him all over you.

"so you won’t forget me"

You peek over to look at your hand, he wrote his number on you with a big smiley face and what seemed to be a heart, making you smile.

"I don’t think it’s possible to forget you Eddie."

You say to him in a shy low voice with a soft smile. You look up to him, Your eyes are melting into each other.

He pulls in closer to you, you feel his breath on your lips, you swear you can feel your heart beating out of your chest, you both close your eyes, soaking in this moment, breathing in each other. You feel his lips crush into yours passionately as he grabs the back of your neck, stroking your cheek with his thumb and pulls you in even more. So intense the kiss was making you weaker with every second, both of your lips begging for more. You let out a soft muffled moan as he starts to push his tongue into your mouth deepening the kiss even more twirling tongues together, feeling each other.

Every move he made was making you weaker and you were burning. You were on fire for him, your heart pacing like it ran a marathon. You needed his touch, you didn't want the kiss to end, Eddie pulls his lips away painfully slow, looking at you, searching every inch of your face as his other hand comes to hold your face too. Your face held in his palms as he just looked at you so endearing.

"beautiful."

He whispers as he watches you in awe under the moonlight.

You feel flustered at his words trying to hide your face now, all of a sudden feeling vulnerable.

He grabs your chin with his left hand and rubs his thumb so lightly on your swollen bottom lip, watching your lips like they were heaven, plants a painfully slow hard kiss on your lips and pulls away. Leaving your body begging for more, craving him in every way.

He twirls and starts to rub his arms like he’s all of a sudden cold in front of you.

"it’s uh, getting kind of chilly out here... you want to come inside ?"

You can tell he’s nervous about how you’ll react, scratching his cheek.

He looks at you and holds his hand out for yours to join, wiggling his fingers. You place your hand in his and he pulls you off the table hard and twirls you around. Makes you giggle and beam at how goofy and playful he is.

He takes your hand and places it on his cheek, his skin is as soft as you thought it would be, and he drops his head into your touch, closing his eyes like he’s in bliss. You bring your other hand up to rest on his shoulder, his hair brushing your skin so lightly. He places his hands around your waist and pulls you closer. Your face rests on his chest, his head using your head as a pillow. You both hold your embrace, swaying together for what feels like forever, in the best way it could. You feel a soft press of his lips on your forehead as you both decide it’s time to go inside. He guides you holding onto your shoulder, rubbing it to warm you up.

Eddie holds the door open, extending his arm out for you to walk in, you look around scanning the place. The smell of cigarettes and beer is almost overpowering, cans scattered over the counter, couch looking sunken in with blankets thrown all over it, looking enticingly comfy.

"Sorry for the mess, I-I wasn’t expecting any guests,"

he says nervously as he franticly tries to clean up.

"no-no it’s okay don’t worry," you reassure him, as you wander around, taking everything in.

You sit down on a stool close to where Eddie was across the kitchen, waiting for him to finish. The state of this trailer was the least of your worries, your body was still on fire just looking at him franticly cleaning random beer cans and throwing dishes in the sink.

He really had you under his spell. Thinking about his lips on yours again makes your heart leap, missing them already, even though he's only a few steps away. You've sat in the same class as him for almost a month now and you never even said hi to each other, now you kick yourself for not doing it sooner. This whole time.. he was right there.

You feel his hand pet your hair softly, as he steps in front of you.

"you okay?"

you look up at him into his worried eyes,

"We sat in the same room every day.."

He blushed at what you were trying to say to him,

"I would've come up to you but I wasn't sure if you hated me or not."

He shoots a smile and throws his hands in an 'oh well' manner

“Why would you think I hated you?”

Even the thought of you hating Eddie makes you cringe, he’s funny and sweet, maybe a little loud but he makes up for it with that beautiful smile of his.

He doesn’t respond, looking behind you, seemingly lost in thought of why he would suggest you hated him. You pout at him, giving him your best puppy dog eyes to get any response from him.

It snaps his attention back to you. Your face seemed to have an effect on him, he looked at your lip and ran his thumb across it and pulled in for what seemed to be a kiss but he bites your bottom lip that's sticking out. His teeth sank into your flushed lip stinging. You yelp not expecting it and it makes him laugh.

He pulls away, tugging his jacket off and tossing it on the couch. Getting comfy in his palace. With the jacket now off you can see some of his tattoos, piquing your interest, you wonder if there’s more under his shirt too.

"you uh like music?"

He asks as he walks towards the hallway assuming you will follow.

"um yeah doesn't everyone?" you respond as jump off your stool and follow his voice.

He walks into a room at the end of the hall, you scan the room, as Eddie is looking through tapes trying to find one for the two of you. It’s got to be his bedroom, band posters everywhere, cigarette buds, magazines, amps, and you look up to see a beautiful guitar sitting on his dresser against a mirror. Mesmerized you walk up to it. You always wanted to learn to play but it never happened, you still appreciated a beautiful guitar if you saw one regardless if you could play.

"wow she’s beautiful"

You say in awe touching the strings on his black and red guitar, making a small hum on the strings. You hear Eddies found a tape as music fills the room, still low enough to hear each other. You recognize the album, it was one of your favourites. A thought crossed your mind wondering if Eddie could read minds, the Jello feeling and now this. Felt like he knew you, but you didn’t know much about him, but you wanted to.

You feel Eddie's arms wrap around your waist pulling you back into him. His body is warm against your back, His big hands holding your waist send signals throughout your body. You feel his breath on your ear "yeah, you are" he kisses the top of your ear. Sending chills through you, closing your eyes in bliss.

Opening them to watch Eddie in the mirror on you. He pulls your hair to the side exposing your neck to him, his other hand rubbing your hip, he places soft delicate kisses up your neck. The sight of him on you drives you wild as you watch him shower you in kisses. Feeling his lips press into your skin makes your lips grow jealous, biting your lip trying to satisfy your growing hunger for him.

You whip yourself around so you’re facing him, blushing after you look up and see his shocked face in reaction to you pulling away from his neck kisses. His hands go right back to your hips as they belong there.

His brow flies up at you,

“don’t like my kisses baby?”

Him calling you baby stops all train of thought in your brain, it sounded so good to hear him call you that, you wanted to be his. He watches you as you process how amazing it would be to be his completely.

He pushes you back into the dresser, You feel the dresser digging into your back, keeping his eyes on you he lifts you up onto the dresser from your thighs so your sitting. You spread your legs so he can fit between you. He’s pressed right up to the dresser with you. You bring your hands up to rest on his neck, feeling the soaring heat off of his skin. His hands move from your hips and creep under your shirt, stopping at your waist, his warm hands resting on your skin, you can feel small licks of cold coming from his rings.

He’s watching your every move, drinking you in with his stare. You look up to him, you wanted to feel his hair between your fingers. You start to play with the beautiful fluffy hair resting in your hands. he looks at you with hunger in his eyes, his brows furrow a bit as you play with his hair more, wrapping your fingers into his hair, massaging him, he’s loving it. His eyes close in bliss as you keep playing, becoming puddy in your hands.

His head starts falling back a bit giving you full access to his neck, you can’t control your urge anymore. Watching his neck exposed made you yearn for him. You pull into him and start kissing his chin down to his neck he lets out soft exhales as you shower him in kisses just as he did to you. Your lips devour him, his breathing getting heavier making you burn to please him more. His hands dig into your soft skin as he tries to control himself.

Starting to use your tongue, making swirls on his neck with each kiss, you start playing with his hair more as you work your way up to his ear. Lightly take his earlobe between your teeth and press into his skin. He struggles to hold his moan, something in him switches instantly. He grabs your face pulling you off of him, looking at each other you can see his eyes are darker full of want and desire.

"you’re driving me insane y/n."

He breathes and he pushes a hard kiss into you, His tongue pushing into your mouth consuming you as you hold him in closer around his neck.

His hands move from your waist to your back and starts rubbing circles, just like he did outside and your head falls back in pure bliss, Stopping the intense kiss you both were in.

"I knew you liked that a little too much out there"

he says with a huge smile plastered on his face

"shhhh" you whisper at him grabbing his shirt and pulling his lips back into yours again, this time pushing your tongue into him, searching his mouth, feeling his moans vibrate through you.

You wrap your legs around him, craving any friction between your legs, you were aching to be touched. You push yourself forward so you can feel him, You feel his hard bulge pressing against your throbbing clit, begging to be touched just as much as he is. Desire burning through both of you.

He starts moving his hips into you, pressing himself onto where you need it most. The sensation is almost too much to bear as you whine and moan into his mouth as you both are still lost in each other’s mouths.

You try to move one of your arms off of his neck hoping he's too distracted by your kissing and start to head for his jeans to release his throbbing cock from its tight confinement. You feel his arm grab your wrist hard.

"not yet baby."

He coos, locking eyes with you, he moves your hand to his mouth where he kisses every knuckle and licks the tip of your thumb sending delicious signals to your clit. Making you think about his tongue on you.

You watch him with your mouth open just a little, giving him the idea to bring his hand to you, you hold his hand and return the favour kissing every knuckle, licking the tip of his thumb, but not stopping there, you open your mouth for him and he slides his thumb in and you close your mouth on it and suck.

The taste of his thumb washes over your tongue, his eyes burning into you as he watches, he goes to kiss your forehead and rest his head on your shoulder in defeat.

"fuck," he breathes against your skin.

Feeling how bad he wanted you sends you into a frenzy, you needed to please him, you needed his moans to fill your ears. You release his thumb from your mouth. Turning to his face on your shoulder, kissing his ear,

"please"

You beg a whisper in his ear as you tug at his belt.

A smirk stretches across his face as he turns to you.

"wait like the good girl you are" he whispers on your lips.

You pout again at him, this feels like torture you can feel how wet you are and he hasn’t even touched you there.

He nips at your bottom lip sticking out and starts kissing your chin working his way down your neck, sucking and pulling, definitely leaving his mark on you for tomorrow, you moan at the painful pleasure he’s giving you.

He tries to pull your shirt off of you to gain access to more, you help him out by taking it off, but cover yourself with your hands.

"you too." you protest at him with a smirk.

He sighs and obliges pulling his hellfire shirt off by grabbing the back of it and tossing it on the ground next to yours. You are mesmerized by his exposed body, so many places to kiss still, you fixate on his tattoos, moving your hands from yourself to touch him.

You softly press your hands onto his chest over his tattoo looking up at him in wonder, wanting to know about every mark on him. Moving your hands to his arms, you trace his tattoos with your fingers, slowly. Feeling the slightly raised skin on each mark. You wanted to press your lips into every inch of him. He grabs your hand softly bringing it to his mouth, planting little kisses inside your palm. You fixate on his lips as he puts your hand back down to rest beside you.

He backs up, admiring you, looking at your new exposed flesh now biting his lip in desire. He comes back after making you feel shy again, he grabs your hips pulling you closer to the edge of the dresser.

He starts exploring your chest, trailing kisses and his tongue along your burning skin. Letting out little moans like kissing you is pleasuring him, he wraps his arms around your back, snapping your bra off, you let it fall into the pile. he steps back again, soaking the vision of you in and you gush at the daggers his eyes are placing on you.

"so fucking beautiful my god."

His words travel through you adding fuel to the burning fire inside of you.

He grabs your face and kisses you hard, moving his hands down to your bottom. He lifts you off the dresser, still kissing you as he places you down on his bed, kicking off some books that were on the end. His bed was very soft, and you both sunk into it.

He looks at you after pulling away from your deep kiss, holding himself up by his elbow, his eyes intensely analyzing your face, you shoot him a warm smile. Making his face light up.

“hey, that smile is what got us into this mess.”

He says to you as he leans in to kiss your nose.

You stick your tongue at him playfully, he seems enticed by it and climbs on top of you.

His hands grab your wrists, planting a kiss on each. Then holds them above your head wrapped between his hand, and pressed into the bed.

You look at him as you can see the hunger in his eyes again, he presses a hard kiss into your lips, moving his way back to your chest, kissing your neck as you feel his free hand grab a hold of your aching breast, teasing and playing with your hardnipples between his fingertips.

His rings sent waves of chills every time they bushed against your sensitive nipples. Soon enough his warm lips were on them sucking and pulling, flicking his tongue around them making your hips buck from the pleasure, leaving his marks along your skin. You couldn’t help the moans that escaped from you even a little, you were all his right now.

He keeps moving down as he kisses you, lower, and lower, and he finally releases your wrists to give himself access to more of you. He’s at your jeans looking up at you to grant him access.

"Eddie please" you whisper at him, taking over his role and teasing your nipples yourself.

That’s all he needed, he starts undoing your jeans slipping them off of you. You watch as he soaks in every inch of you with his eyes. He goes back between your legs and starts kissing, exploring and worshiping your body all over.

Feeling him all over you is all you’ve wanted all night, his touch, his hunger for you, the pressure between your thighs is unbearable now. You can feel how soaked you are, embarrassed by it honestly but all Eddie has done is tease you.

He rests his head on your thigh as he lets his hands explore your legs, massaging your inner thighs, inching closer to where you need him, still teasing, he’s torturing you.

“Please baby” you whine, needing him so bad you don’t care how you sound.

“I know sweetheart.” he brushes over your lips making you hold your breath.

He pulls your panties to the side, he lets his fingertips explore you, up and down your slit, slowly dipping in between into the pool of wet.

"baby your so wet for me" you can tell he’s smiling wide, proud of his work. He slips your panties off of you.

He finds your clit and starts to circle between his fingers slowly making you yelp from the pleasure. Finally, he’s where you need him. His fingers speed up erratically, making your moans even louder as you feel the pressure between your thighs even heavier now.

Your eyes shoot down when you can feel his breath right on your skin and feel his big hair brushing on your thighs, he’s looking up at you watching him, he takes you into his mouth. Your eyes fall back in bliss and your back arches, he grabs your hips to keep you in place, where he wants you.

He swirls his tongue around your clit as you curse in pleasure. Overstimulated you grab a hold of his long fluffy hair in your hand, he moves his tongue down to lap up your arousal, sticking his tongue into your entrance, circling, teasing you.

He moves back up to your clit and you start to grind yourself into his mouth, so close to your release. You feel his hand move from your hip, his finger teasing circles around your entrance, slipping his finger in you. Sending shockwaves through your body. You can feel your walls throbbing around his finger as he fucks you, adding another finger, stretching you, and making your eyes roll back.

Between his beautiful tongue on your clit, his fingers fucking you deeper and deeper, his moans vibrating your skin, feeling the cold steel of his rings at your entrance. Your muscles tense up, devouring every feeling he’s giving you, your legs start to shake, overwhelmed by all your senses, you see stars and your vision is blurred.

“F-fuck Eddie” you moan as you come undone to his touch and cum all over his fingers. He moans as you release all your pleasure onto him. You close your eyes hard still throbbing from your release.

You feel Eddie’s body on top of you. He’s on your lips, pushing his tongue into you, you can taste yourself on him. Making you smile, you open your eyes and hold his face in your palm, he looks at you,

“I like the way you moan my name baby” making your face heat up realizing you came moaning his name. He kisses your flushed cheeks chuckling at you being embarrassed.

“Hold on-“ he says to you as he runs out of the room.

Only a moment passes and he’s back with a towel for you, “here baby” you use the towel as he rumbles through his drawers.

“perfect” you hear him whisper to himself.

You look over to him holding up an extra hellfire shirt and smiling so big at you. He comes over to you and helps you slip into it. He looks you up and down “absolutely perfect” he beams at you kissing your forehead.

Suddenly feeling the aftermath of his work you are exhausted. Looking up at him with sleepy eyes, you fall into his chest making him chuckle, “okay baby let’s get you back to Joan…unless you wanted to stay here?”

“mm” is the only response you can give him as he just chuckles at your exhausted self.

He lifts you off the bed from your hip, opening the blanket up and placing you back down, covering you up, he leans down planting a soft long kiss on your lips, then turns off his lamp and turns the music down for you, quiet enough to fade asleep to.

You hear him walk out into the kitchen opening the fridge.

You open your heavy eyes to look around, the moonlight poking through his window illuminating his stack of magazines on the floor beside you. You see a naked woman on the cover and blush at the thought of Eddie using it to please himself.

Reminding you that you never got to taste him… It’s all you could think of, the hunger to please him restarts in you. You look over to the open bedroom door, the light from the kitchen pouring in.. enticing you…

𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑡 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑑𝑎ℎ𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠..

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