#Neil you better watch out my boy has a literal old god for a boyfriend now
Text
So I've been playing Dishonored which is my favorite game and this popped into my head so now you all have to suffer with me. (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.✧
He's so fucking cold. Like he’s been plunged into a lake mid winter and can’t find his way to the surface. Hands shaking, Billy sifts clumsily through the box of his mother’s things he keeps hidden in the back of his closet. He's found that if he thinks about the good times, picnics at the beach under the California sun, the thing oozing it's way though his brain losses just a bit of it's grip. Leaves Billy with enough motor function to stumble around his bedroom, trying to find the right pieces. And fucking hell it’s been so long since he's done this. He can remember helping his Ma when he was little, chubby fingers clenched tight in her cotton sundress as she arranged the items on the table just right. Pricked her finger to draw sigils in a language long forgotten, her voice a soft cadence through the bedroom as she hummed Billy’s favorite lullaby. No words, just a beautiful mournful thing. Humming a song of grieving loss. Billy doesn't know why he likes it so much.
“Remember baby. When you offer your gifts they have to be special. Well loved. Something that brings you joy every time you use it.”
His mother kept a pair of earrings on the cloth covered table. She never wore them when his father was home. Took them out and put them back on the little rickety stand in the back of her closet every day before he came back from work. Dangling silver daggers with the onyx beads. Billy shoved one straight through his left earlobe when he turned fifteen and has barely taken it out since.
His Ma told him that everything he built his shrine with had to mean something. Had to be something he treasured. From the fabric to the stand itself. So Billy tried his best. Draped his best leather jacket over the milk crate that held all of his favorite hair products. Placed his Ma's Fleetwood Mac album next to one of his mother's silver earrings (the one he always wears), arranged as neatly as he can manage. He’d had to prick his thumb seven times because to his dawning horror it kept healing over. Just another tally mark towards something being really fucking wrong. And he remembers the warehouse. Can still feel the slimy caustic sludge being pumped down his throat by a fucking tentacle. But he’d hoped it had been a dream, a nightmare from reading to many Lovecraft novels. Billy curses as he slices open his thumb for what feels like the millionth time.
Apparently not.
He's drawn the characters just how he remembers. His mother had made him practice every day, showing him each and every shape and line, drawn in colorful crayon. She gave him a cookie every time he got them right. Never hung them up on the fridge though. Didn't want his father to see.
He can feel the shadow creeping through his blood, dragging it’s claws against his veins. It might not know exactly what he’s doing yet, but it must be able to feel the intention. Billy thinks of ocean waves and a soft hand running through his curls. Fights the pull at the back of his mind to just give in. To sleep. His hands shake harder.
Fuck, where is it?! Billy combs through records and trinkets, a bottle of her perfume. He’s desperately hoping it didn't get lost in the move because his mother never taught him how to make one. Hell, he's pretty certain that he wouldn't be able to find the pieces he needs in Hawkins anyway. Not like Melvalds has a supernatural voodoo isle.
Then finally, finally he finds it. Lifting up his mother’s satin scarf it comes tumbling out to land on the floor with a clatter. Bleached white and beaten smooth by the waves, it's about the size of a sand dollar. Billy picks it up, places it in the palm of his hand. He still remembers the day he found it out on the shore. Washed up between some sea glass, the leather bindings still somehow soft even soaked with salt water. Etched with symbols and shapes Billy will never understand. When Billy showed it to his mother an unreadable expression crossed her face. It was that evening she showed him her shrine.
The rune seems to hum against his skin, an otherworldly song from far away ghosting past his ears. The thing that’s trying to Shanghai Billy’s brain writhes. It's angry, but more than that it’s fucking terrified and Billy has never been more sure of anything in his life. This was a good idea. But his limbs are getting colder, heavier. Whatever this evil piece of shit is it doesn’t like what Billy’s doing. He has to fight against the deadening of his limbs, crawling towards his shitty attempt at a shrine from his place on the floor. His vision is starting to grow dark when he finally clutches on to the milk crate, placing the rune between the earring and his cassette tape. And he knows that there's no guarantee. That whatever his Ma prayed to every night never shielded her from Neil’s fists, didn’t do a damn thing as the cancer slowly drained her down to nothing. That sometimes (most times) when someone would call out to the void the only thing they heard in return was their own disappointment. But he's got no other options. This is his trump card. His last resort. If this hocus pocus bullshit doesn’t work then Billy is up shit creek without a paddle. With a frustrated shout against the nightmare pulling him in, Billy begs.
“Please! Fuck, help me! I'll do anything, c’mon just- please!”
The air in Billy’s bedroom all of a sudden seems to shudder. The shadows flicker and meld together, reaching outwards. The sound of dry fall leaves blowing in the wind, a wail of a thousand dying worlds ricochets off the walls. Then nothing. Billy scrunches his eyes shut against the sting of tears. Fuck, of course it didn’t work. Story of his life. He called for help and just like always it doesn't mean shit. No one is coming to save him.
“Well well well. Certainly been a long time since someone summoned me like that. Very old school.”
Billy’s eyes snap open, the surprise and adrenaline enough to fight the heaving weight of his limbs to raise his head. And there, perched on his shitty milk crate shrine, sits the most beautiful boy he's ever seen. He's got hair the color of soil after it rains. High cheekbones and full lips, milky white skin dotted with a constellation of beauty marks. Billy didn't know what he expected but it certainly wasn't this. The boy god is dressed in a swanky leather coat the color of charcoal with pants to match. Eyes like an oil spill, inky black and endless. With a good look at Billy, they narrow dangerously.
“I thought I fucking told you not to touch this world. You want a repeat of last time?”
Whatever deity he summoned looks pissed as hell. Did he not do it right? Maybe the items weren’t good enough. That would be just his luck. He's so confused he almost doesn’t notice it right away. The shadow slowly working it’s way through his body has stopped, retreated a little even.
“I-... I don't know what you’re talking about. Please, there's something wrong with me. Something got put inside of me and I need it out. Please, help me.”
Billy hasn’t begged since his Ma was takin her last breath in that damn hospice bed. Didn't see the point when it always got you nowhere. But now he can't make himself stop. Cuz he's never been this scared before. The things this monster inside him wants him to do. It's so strong, like he’s fighting a steam roller. He's got no hope on his own.
The boy sitting on his best leather jacket stills. Cocks his head to the side slightly, considering. Then those pretty pink lips are spreading out into a gleeful smirk. Slides off the shrine to settle on his knees in front of Billy. Reaches out his hand to cup Billy’s jaw gentle enough it makes him want to cry.
“You can't get a good enough hold of this one can you? Interesting. Tell me trouble maker, what's your name?”
That voice, deep and ethereal, seems to echo from all around him. He can feel it vibrate in his bones. He wants, no, needs to answer.
“Billy. Billy Hargrove.”
The boy smiles now, all gleaming pearly whites. If Billy looks long enough reality starts to flicker. And for just a second all he can see is teeth sharp like knives in a Cheshire grin. There for a moment and gone in a flash. The hand on his jaw tightens just the slightest fraction.
“Well Billy Hargrove. You seem to find yourself in quite the predicament. That parasite sucking on your soul is an old acquaintance of mine. He's one nasty little shit.”
If a brain washing shadow monster could feel indignant he’s pretty sure that’s what's happening now. Whatever was hijacking Billy's mind has curled up somewhere tight, sunk it’s teeth in deep. Cornered like a threatened animal.
“Please, I’ll do anything you want. I can’t… I can’t fight it. It's too much.”
There’s enough tears leakin down his face that it's soaking the front of his shirt. The boy is giving him this look, almost amused. The longer he holds Billy’s jaw the more the monster losses his grip, and Billy is ready to do anything at this point. Because that thing stuck to his brain wants him to find people. Feed it people. Wants Billy to drink all the chemicals in the supply shed at the pool. Told Billy that if he tried to fight it would take Max first and he can't let that happen.
The boy seems to come to a decision, grabs Billy’s hands to help him shakily to this feet. He doesn’t let go even when they’re both standing.
“You know there’s not many who can fight his hold for this long. I'm impressed.”
He steps forward until his chest is practically pressed up against Billy's. He smells like ozone and smoke, bottomless black eyes trained on stormy blue. Reaches up to tangle his fingers into Billy’s curls, sending tingles across his scalp. Smiles wider at the small noise that escapes Billy's throat.
“I'll help you Billy Hargrove. But in return, you have to do something for me.”
Billy's nodding before he can even really register what’s being said. Anything. He'd do whatever this pretty boy asked as long as he keeps touching Billy like this. Gentle, with a reverence no one has ever bothered to show.
“I need you to kick this little shit back into the hole he crawled out of. Can you do that for me Billy? I wanna see how your story pans out trouble maker. Wanna see what you do when someone gives you a chance.”
Billy nods again, breathless. The boy chuckles, the sound saccharine. Like warm honey dripping down his spine.
“Gunna have to use your words baby.”
Billy swallows, the click of his dry throat loud in the warm personal bubble they’ve created.
“Yes. Yeah. I’ll do it. Whatever you want pretty boy, please.”
It comes out a whisper but the boy hears it all the same. The boy smiles bright, pulls Billy forward. Soft warm lips press against his own and Billy is floating. He's never been kissed like this before. Slow and deep, the boy's tongue pressing in to curl and slide. Stuff him full. Billy's shaking for a whole other reason now. Reaches out to grip the boy's coat, cool to the touch where Billy is burning. Fire rushing through his veins, and he's already so close just from this. Whimpers brokenly into the kiss.
The boy pulls him in impossibly closer, slots his thigh between Billy’s legs, pushes up up up. And Billy is right fucking there, grinds down as he swaps spit with an old god in his shitty bedroom with the peeling yellow paint and the door that locks from the outside. Can feel the tell tale tingle spreading behind his navel.
“ ‘m gunna cum! Fuck, more please!” Billy mumbles curses into the kiss, breath hitching as his balls draw tight. The boy smiles against his mouth, yanks his curls back to bite into the meat of his neck and Billy’s gone, pulsing rope after rope of cum into his underwear.
“Oh my- .. Fuuuuuck. Yes! Uhhhnn!” He's panting like a dog as he slumps forward into the boys shoulder. Gentle fingers card through his hair as aftershocks zap up and down his body. A kiss is pressed behind his ear, a soft warmth flooding his core. He can't feel the shadow anywhere.
“So good for me sweet thing. Makes me want to keep you.”
It's said so quiet, like the boy doesn’t intend for it to be heard. Billy presses his face into his neck. There's no heartbeat under the boy's skin.
“You could. I want you to.” Whoever this is, whatever he is, he came for Billy. Answered his literal cry for help when no one else did. He doesn't know what he has to offer but he wants to give this impossible boy everything.
The boy in question hums. Brings Billy's left hand up to kiss the back of it. His skin feels hot under his lips, bordering on uncomfortable. Like stepping on sun scorched pavement. When the boy pulls back there’s a tattoo on his hand. A strange design that looks vaguely like a compass. It's the same mark as the one on the middle of the rune sitting behind them.
“I haven't given my mark to someone quite so special in a while. Try not to disappoint me Billy Hargrove.”
The boy goes to pull away but Billy still has his hand clenched tight on his coat. Panic wells up in his chest. Doesn't want to end whatever this is quite yet.
“Wait! What’s-…what's your name?” Which is a valid question he thinks. And probably one he should have asked at some point before he started grinding his dick on the guys leg. Oh well.
“I've had many names, none if which would hold any significance for you. Call me what you want trouble maker. I'll be there when you need me.”
Billy believes him. Then between one blink and the next the boy is gone, tendrils of dissipating smoke the only evidence he was ever there. A deep voice whispers from nowhere and everywhere.
“Ask your sister about the monsters in the woods.”
On the shrine the only thing that remains is the rune, both his gifts having apparently been accepted. Billy gives a hysterical bark of laughter at the thought of some higher being listening to Fleetwood Mac somewhere out in the void. It gives him an idea. He drags his lips across the fresh mark on his hand, mumbles into his skin.
“Thanks Stevie.”
#i don't know what this is but here ya go!#Outsider!Steve#Billy Hargrove#harringrove#dishonored au#yes Billy gets powers but i haven't decided what they are yet#that hoe writes#stranger things#Neil you better watch out my boy has a literal old god for a boyfriend now
55 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sky above, sand below, peace within. (Vinikki)
A/N: Thank you so much to @arnold-layne who helped me writing this fic in a correct way ! ( and let’s be real it probably would have sucked withouth her).
Inspired by this :
Nikki closed his eyes, enjoying the sea breeze.
Between the new album and his not-so-normal daily life, he found himself really on a verge of a nervous breakdown. The same could be said for the rest of the band, so when Vince decided to take a week off, nobody argued.
Mick was back home to visit his sons and his wife, Tommy went to visit some friends and parties and Vince decided to take Nikki to Malibu to relax and be alone. Vince and him have only been together for a couple of months, but these months were the best ones in his entire life. Unfortunately, they didn’t have many opportunities to be a “normal couple”: secret kisses before going on stage or during rehearsals, hidden hand squeezes between interviews and quick fucks in the nightclubs’ bathroom were not enough for them, so this holiday seemed like a gift from God or whoever was up there.
“What are you thinking, beautiful?” Vince asked, and when Nikki lifted his gaze he stopped for a moment: the singer’s blonde locks were illuminated by the sun, making him even more beautiful than he already was.
“How I’m lucky to have such a wonderful and hot boyfriend,” he said, letting his sweet side show, one that was usually hidden if they were not alone. “And also how it’s beautiful to be here,” Nikki said, resting his head on Vince’s shoulder. The singer kissed him on the cheek.
“I missed being in California. I used to surf here when I was a teen” Vince said, looking in the distance at the sea.
“So you’re really a Malibu Barbie after all, uh” Nikki remarked, smirking. The blonde glared at him with a deadly look before pushing him into the sand.
“Jeez, I was kidding, babe. I don’t know if I could picture you as a surfer, you’d probably be too worried to ruin your hair, but also you would look pretty hot doing it.”
“Well, luckily, I brought my surfboard so let’s find out!” Vince said, totally aware that he would made Nikki’s jaw drop at the sight. Nikki pulled him by his wrist and kissed him before letting him go.
“I think it’d be fair if we were both in our swimsuits” the singer added, and Nikki simply undressed, revealing his black boxers.
“Oh Vince, I thought that you would get wet after surfing!” The bassist said, smirking.
“Oh fuck off, the last one to arrive at the beach has to hold the other’s hair while he’s puking” Vince said, running towards the sea with his surfboard.
Vince arrived last but he didn’t care: seeing his boyfriend so happy and free filled his heart with joy. He usually was not the sentimental type, but with Nikki it was difficult to not want to scream out all of his love right in front of him. He positioned himself on the board and hoped his muscle memory would help.
On the other hand Nikki sat on the shore looking at his Vince surfing really smoothly. He found himself spaced out again, thinking about how lucky he was and how many things they could do during that week: watching the stars, midnight swim, a romantic picnic, maybe even sex on the beach; he tried as hard as he could to push aside all the bad thoughts and enjoy a much deserved time with the love of his life. Too busy imagining stuff, Nikki didn’t realize that the water had hit him until he was already wet and cold, right in front of him stood Vince, a huge grin on his face.
Nikki didn’t think twice and grabbed him, making him fall into the water; soon after Vince grabbed his legs making him fall down too. They wrestled for a bit, trying to tickle each others or being general idiots before they noticed the sun setting.
“We should see it, it’s beautiful,” Nikki said, trying to stand up, but a big wave made him crush on top of Vince. The blond man didn’t think twice and started to kiss him.
“I’m looking at something even better,” he replied, and Nikki swore to God that if he was blushing, Vince would be dead.
“God, you’re so cheesy. C’mon, I want to see it”.
The boys returned to sit on the beach, this time Vince in Nikki’s arms, while the dark-haired man brushed his locks; it was such a nice view that Nikki felt happiness, maybe for the first time in a long time. Vince lifted his head to look at him and then smiled.God, how much Nikki loved that smile! The singer always had that charming smile, the one he would use to get all the ladies at his feet, but this one was different:: it was pure and full of love. That was the real smile of the real Vince Neil, not the cocky playboy singer but the sweet and caring boyfriend.
“Could we eat dinner here?” Nikki asked, pleading. God, since when had he become that soft?
“Yes,honey, but we have to shower first”.
The house they rented was not as big as their houses in LA but that didn’t matter. They decided to shower together and soon enough they started to throw foam at each other. Nikki always hated being too cheesy and letting himself go in a relationship but with Vince it was different, with Vince he could be a five-year-old who throws foam in the shower. Vince also found it so weird to actually care and want to say “I love you” as many times as he could, like he was doing at the moment; and, honestly, the singer was also surprised that Nikki could literally annoy him in every way but he’d still want to kiss him.
“We should go, I’m fucking starving!” Nikki said, grabbing the pre-made dinner and the picnic blanket.
“I’m not the one who started a foam war earlier,” the singer replied dramatically.
“C’mon, I don’t wanna miss the stars!” the bassist said, pulling the blond by the wrist. Then he started running, dragging the singer along.
When they arrived at the beach again, Nikki wasted no time in preparing everything. Vince thought he looked like a hyperactive child, but he loved it. He was aware of Nikki’s shitty childhood, and he was certainly not going to be a kill-joy.
“What?” the older man said, having noticed his boyfriend looking at him.
“You’re so cute!” Vince said, smiling.
“No, I’m not!” Nikki replied.
“What, are you scared that you are not going to be badass anymore if somebody finds out that you are soft?” the singer said, teasing him.
“I’m not cute!” he replied, trying to sound intimidating.
“Whatever you say, cutie. Now let’s eat, shall we?”
They couldn’t stop being idiots even while they were eating, with Vince constantly annoying Nikki and the other man trying to hide his smile and to look pissed off.
“Shit, man, they’re beautiful!”
“What?” Vince asked, a bit confused.
“The stars, dude. They are awesome!” the bassist replied, smiling.
“Maybe we should make a wish,” the younger man suggested.
“Wait, aren’t wishes only for shooting stars?” Nikki said, trying to suppress a laugh.
“We are Motley Crue, so we make the fucking rules! And I tell you to make a wish,” the singer announced proudly.
The older man started to think about his wish. In that moment it seemed like he had anything he could ever ask for: a beautiful boyfriend, a peaceful beach, and a much needed rest. He was really happy for once in his life, so what could he ever want more?
“I have everything here with me,” the bassist replied, looking Vince in the eyes.
“Urgh, you are a sappy bastard!” Vince said, smiling and then kissing Nikki gently. “But also, I love you too much to pretend I don’t like your sweet talk!”
“I love you too, Vince. And I’ll say it to you whenever I can,” the black-haired man added, yawning.
“Maybe it’s better if we return home, Mr Sixx.”
“Oh no, I just wanted to have sex on this beautiful beach!” Nikki teased.
“We have a whole week for that, hon.” Vince replied with his usual smirk and picked up the bassist bridal style.
“Wait, who are you? What have you done to my sex-addicted boyfriend?”
The younger man simply rolled his eyes and kept going towards their house. As soon as they touched the bed, Nikki yawned and he struggled to keep his eyes open. Then Vince simply undressed his boyfriend and himself before covering them both with soft sheets.
“Thank you so much.” Nikki replied softly, then he closed his eyes and he started snoring softly.
Vince followed him shortly after, a huge smile on his face when the older man nuzzled his neck.
Taglist: @malibubarbievince @themissloveeverything @slashscowboyboots @livingbreathingrocknroll @boraxisme
52 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
farewelloceans
Proschay Okeany
motherinfinity
It’s 2am and I can’t sleep
indigosienna
ヨマイゴト
ytubeconverter
Untitled