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#the way billy deserved to be so so angry
ickypuppi3 · 1 year
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andvys · 2 days
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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.
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Chapter fifteen ⭐︎ I thought the plane was going down, how’d you turn it right around?
Warnings: slight angst, fluff, a lot of fluff, alcohol consumption, clingy!reader, drunk!reader
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: Steve gets to know a side of you, you have never shown him before, and he takes the final step towards realization.
Word count: 10k+
Author’s note: SO @hellfire--cult and I have been waiting for this chapter (and especially for the next one). I'm so happy that we're finally here, and as always I'm giving a special shoutout to my lovely Roe, who not only helped with ideas but also wrote the whole last paragraph, the drive home and all the fluff at Steve's house. Give her all the love she deserves ♡ ilysm roe thank youuuu
Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter
Red, white and blue colors flash before your eyes, everywhere you look as you walk through the grocery store with Max. You can’t even bear to look at the holiday themed snacks and decorations on the shelves. All week, people have been preparing for a holiday, you used to love, now it’s nothing but a reminder of what you lost – of what Max lost. 
You avoided going to Big Buy’s all week, for this exact reason. 
But now you were the one who offered to go inside, when Eddie was the one who wanted to get the pre-drinks, you don’t even know why you did it, maybe it was to get away from Dustin’s and Lucas’s banter, or maybe you just wanted to prepare yourself for something much bigger. 
The Fun Fair takes place this year, just as it did, last year. And you friends wanted to celebrate the Fourth of July there. You don’t mind, you really don’t, but every place you turn today, reminds you of a dear friend you lost. 
Max walks beside you quietly. She looks around with heavy eyes and tension in her shoulders, she’s fidgeting with the bracelet that Lucas gifted to her, and keeps her eyes on the ground. 
You didn’t say anything yet, not wanting to trigger any more sadness. You’re surprised that she even offered to go inside with you, she could’ve waited and stayed with the guys, but she didn’t. 
“This day sucks.” 
These are the first words she spoke out loud, ever since you stepped inside the store.
“Yeah,” you mumble, quietly, not knowing what to say, because all you can think about is Billy, and how he died on this exact day, one year ago, when you were still so unaware of the dark truth that lied beneath this town, when you thought that it was the fire that killed him and not one of Vecna’s creatures. 
You weren’t even there, but thinking about it makes you sick and angry. You can’t even imagine what Max must’ve felt like that night. Or what she is feeling now. 
When you stop in the drink aisle, you look around for the beer Eddie asked for, but instead your eyes fall on the one brand that Billy always used to buy. Sometimes he’d bring a six pack over and leave some cans in your fridge for some other time, you are pretty sure that there are still two leftover cans hidden behind all the other drinks in your fridge. 
A sigh falls from your lips, “yeah, it does.” 
She glances at you, sadness settling into her features, when she sees the way your eyes fill with grief. 
“Billy would roll his eyes at us, right now,” she mumbles, trying to crack a joke. 
A small chuckle escapes you, and you turn to look at her with a weak smile on your face, “yes, he would.” 
She purses her lips as she looks at the beer, “are you gonna let me drink tonight?” 
You scrunch your nose, and shake your head, “are you crazy?” You scoff, as you step forward and reach for the beers, Eddie asked for, and the ones Billy would have gotten for himself. “How about you turn twenty one first, and then I’ll let you drink.” 
Max laughs at you and rolls her eyes. 
“You’re not even twenty one, and you’re drinking – oh! And buying the beers with a fake ID probably!” 
“Shush,” you wave your hand at her when an employee walks past you, giving you both a weird look. 
“I’m very close to twenty one,” you whisper. 
“You’re not even twenty yet–”
“I’m turning twenty, this year. Now stop arguing with me, and get yourself a coke or something.”
Max groans at you, “fine,” she murmurs as she follows you, “why are you even getting any drinks now when you can buy some at the Fair?”
“I’m pretty sure that Eddie doesn’t want to buy any of those overpriced drinks that taste like absolute shit.” 
She snorts, “he shouldn’t even be drinking, he’s driving.” 
“Don’t worry, he’ll walk you all home if he gets drunk.” 
Her jaw drops, and annoyance flashes in her eyes, “are you serious–”
You laugh at the look on her face, shaking your head at her, “I’m just kidding, when does Eddie ever get drunk?” You chuckle, “he’ll have one beer tops, no more, he’ll sober up till then, and if not then uh… Steve will drive you home.”
“Okay,” she sighs, as the momentarily amusement leaves her face again, and the sadness begins to sink back in, making you much more aware of your own. 
“Hey, Max?” 
She turns back to you, and raises her eyebrows in question. 
“If you feel overwhelmed at some point, you can find me and we can leave, at any time, okay?” 
She smiles a little and nods her head. 
“Okay,” she whispers, “same goes for you, if you want to leave, I’ll go with you.” 
“Okay,” you smile at her, “now let’s go pay for these and get out of here,” you mumble as you gesture to the beer in your hands. 
You feel relief rushing through you once you are out of the busy store again. The golden evening sun hits your skin, still blessing it with warmth, the air around you smells like summer, like fresh cut grass, hot pavement and honeysuckle. The wind kisses your skin and blows through your hair, it’s warm yet refreshing, it feels nice. 
“Did you buy that for me?” Dustin grins at you, pointing at the beers when you get into the passenger seat. 
Eddie glares at him through the rearview mirror. 
“Very funny, Dusty Bun.”
Lucas laughs at the nickname, nudging his shoulder against Dustin’s, “Dusty Bun,” he cackles, wiggling his brows. 
“Shut up, dude.” 
“You kids are too young to even think about trying beer,” you glare at the three teens in the back, most specifically at Lucas, who’s had some before. 
His smile falls a little, and he clears his throat, “that was one time.”
“Yeah, it better stay that way,” you point at him. 
Max snorts at the glare on your face. 
“Yes, mom.”
Eddie and Dustin chuckle. 
Your jaw drops, and you furrow your brows at the teen who is squished between Max and Dustin. 
“You act like a mom sometimes!” Lucas raises his hands up in surrender, shrugging at you. 
“No, I don’t!” 
“Yeah, you do, you’re mama bear,” Eddie snorts, making Dustin laugh louder. 
“Yeah, you’re not fooling us with your grumpy act.” 
You squint your eyes at the curly head, who is grinning happily at you. 
“Just accept it, Sweetheart,” Eddie chuckles, “you’re the mom of the group.”
“No, I only joined this group a few months back, there has to be a different mom–”
“Oh no, we only had single dad Steve,” Lucas giggles, wiggling his eyebrows at you, “but we got a mom and a dad now, so…” 
The smug look on his face, and the teasing in his eyes, isn’t exactly hard to miss. You know exactly what he is going at, what he has been going at for the past few months now. 
Sometimes, you can’t help but wonder if he somehow knows about your feelings for Steve, if he always knew about them, or if he is simply just teasing and still in the dark about everything. 
You are good at hiding your feelings, you always have been, no one ever found out about your feelings for Steve unless you wanted them to, but if there is someone who you wouldn’t underestimate, then it’s definitely Lucas, he is too smart for his own good, sometimes.
Eddie snorts beside you, mumbling, “mommy and daddy.” 
You elbow him, into his side, earning a groan from him. 
“That wasn’t very nice!” Eddie grumbles as he shoots you a glare, and presses his hand against his stomach. 
“Don’t be so dramatic, Edward.” 
He squints his eyes at you. 
“Who is Eddie then?” Dustin asks. 
“He’s the cool uncle,” Lucas shrugs. 
“Damn right, now stop yapping,” Eddie mumbles as he takes a look over his shoulder, “are you ready to throw up Hot Dogs after going on the roller coaster?” 
All three of them groan in disgust, scrunching up their faces, making him laugh. 
You shake your head at him when he starts laughing. 
“You’re such a menace.” 
Eddie only chuckles at you, he starts the car and turns up the music, and he rolls down the windows before he speeds out of the parking lot. 
You embrace the moments of peace before the chaos of the fair hits you, screaming children, crowds of people, and the overwhelming smell of food on every corner are something you are not looking forward to despite the hollowness in your stomach. You couldn’t get anything down the past few days, you nearly threw up this morning when you walked into the diner with Eddie, and the smell of Bacon hit you. 
The wind weaves through your hair as Eddie drives down the main road. 
The sound of music distracts you from your sad thoughts. 
The thought of him, filling your heart with life and your soul with hope.
He grounds you in your worst moments, and he doesn’t even know it.
-
The fairground is alive with music and screaming children, the sound of the roller coasters moving, conversations and laughter from every corner. The dazzling lights are a stark contrast against the dark sky, the smell of food wafts through the air. 
Robin and Vickie are standing next to Steve, giggling about something as they sip on their mixed beers. He is looking around, trying to catch sight of you, but you are nowhere to be found, and he is beginning to worry. 
Max and El had dragged you away for a roller coaster ride, but that was over an hour ago, and he hasn’t seen you ever since. 
Max had warned him before, when she reminded him of what this day means to you, of what happened a year back, of what and who you had lost. 
Steve doesn’t know how you deal with grief, how you feel on these kinds of days, there are too many of them in your life. He doesn’t know how you cope, he wishes that he could be there for you and give you a shoulder to lean on – but you aren’t very good at showing your true feelings or emotions, he only saw a glimpse of the truth that you hide behind those high walls you built around yourself and he doubts that you would come to him for comfort. 
A dreadful feeling is gnawing in his chest the more time passes without you being seen. 
“Hey Dingus, we’re going on the Ferris Wheel,” Robin nudges his shoulder, grinning at him. 
He blinks, tearing his eyes away from the crowds, he nods at his best friend. 
“Sure, have fun.” 
Robin furrows her brows as she takes in the sight of his frown, “are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he murmurs and plasters a smile on his face, “go and have fun with your girl.” 
She hesitates, her smile becoming weaker now, “you should go find Eddie or Dustin.”
“Yeah, I will, in a second.” 
“Your feet are not glued to the ground are they?” Vickie asks, chuckling. 
“Yeah, you’ve been stuck in this spot for like thirty minutes now!” Robin exclaims as she points her ringed finger at him, eyeing the way he is leaning against the wall with tension in his body. 
Steve chuckles, and brings his hand up to the side of his face, cupping his cheek for a moment, “I’m just looking out for the kids.”
Robin snorts, though she gives him a suspicious look. 
“Ah, but they’re not around,” she says, tilting her head as she gestures to all the strangers that surround the field, instead of the teens. 
“I told them I’d be here if they needed anything,” he shrugs and waves his hand at her, “now go and have your kiss on the top of the Ferris Wheel.” 
Robin slaps his shoulder, her cheeks taking on a deep red color, as Vickie giggles behind her. 
He chuckles at her, wiggling his brows and smirking at his best friend. 
Robin rolls her eyes and turns away from him, she offers her hand out to the redhead, who reaches for it, though with a blush on her cheeks and a shy smile on her lips. 
“See you later, Dingus,” Robin waves at Steve, not giving him the chance to respond before she drags her girl away and pushes through the crowds with her. 
Steve’s eyes follow them until he can no longer see them as they get lost in the midst of the chaos. Laughing children run around, chasing each other, a group of teenage boys carrying drinks they shouldn’t be allowed to buy, two young women walk past him, giggling amongst themselves as they eye him with interest in their eyes, Steve pays no mind to them, not even bothering to spare them a look despite the very obvious glances he is getting, even as they had already passed him. 
His eyes follow a different sight and his ears perk up at the sound of giggles that sound like yours, his lips twitch at the sound and his heart flutters wildly in his chest. 
He pushes himself off the tree he is leaning against and turns to look around. Steve’s hazel eyes soften the moment he finally sees you. 
You are standing in a circle with Eddie and his bandmates who all keep pestering you over something. Eddie leans closer to you and pinches your cheek, while Gareth jumps around you like some hyper puppy, his curls bouncing and his face flickering with amusement when you keep waving your hand at him. 
Steve smiles at the giggle that falls from your lips when Eddie swats your hand away after you ruffle his curls. 
He watches the way your lips move as you stare at him with a smug look on your face, saying something to him that makes him clutch his chest and gasp dramatically. 
Steve shakes his head as the metalhead lunges at you and you squeal in surprise before you turn around and run off with a giggle, bolting into the crowd with Eddie and Gareth hot on your heels, while Jeff and Grant follow the three of you slowly, shaking their heads in amusement.
Surprise lingers inside of him, Steve had never seen you so playful before, he had never witnessed you letting loose and having genuine fun. You are always on guard, always hiding away behind your brooding act that is slowly becoming less and less visible. 
Something has changed, something in your behavior has shifted in the past few weeks. You seem happier, you seem to smile more, you seem to be kinder to the people around you. 
Your walls are still up, but the foundation has begun to crumble, just like his did. 
You let him see a glimpse of something he never thought was even there, he saw your vulnerable side and your soft one, he saw how lovingly you treated your baby niece, he saw how sweet and gentle you could be – he saw the real you and it only made him weaker than ever before. 
There was always a part of him that left him feeling weak whenever he was with you – it wasn’t a bad kind of weak, but it was one that scared him. 
It doesn’t scare him anymore. 
He embraces the weakness now. 
Something, someone crashes into his chest, making him stumble back from the force, when he looks down, he finds you staring up at him, with your arms now wrapped around his waist and a softened look in your eyes as a smile rests on your lips. The dazzling, colorful lights from the rollercoaster and the ferris wheel only brighten the color of your eyes, making him get lost in them so easily. 
He feels your arms around his torso, and your hands on his back, your chest is now pressed against his and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say that the look in your eyes is a dreamy one as they look into his. 
The warmth in his chest blooms, the smile on his lips grows bigger, something in his stomach flutters when you stand on your tippy toes and remind him of the height difference between the two of you. 
“Hi Stevie,” you say softly. 
He would be lying if he said, he isn’t caught off guard by the tone in your voice and the look in your eyes, by your arms that are wrapped around him and your body that is pressed against his, so tightly and intimately, despite all the eyes that could see. 
“Hi Blondie,” he smiles as he slowly wraps his arms around you and acts on his feelings, when he brings you closer. 
The smell of your perfume is intoxicating and it does nothing to weaken the fluttering in his stomach. You smell like the cotton candy that you had shared with Max earlier and the beer you probably had been drinking all night, which is surprising, considering how much you despise the bitter taste of beer. 
“I missed you.” 
His eyes widen in surprise, and his eyebrows shoot up, the fluttering in his stomach now growing even stronger than before. 
You woke up in each other's arms this morning, you even sat at the kitchen table and drank your morning coffee together before you left to meet up with Eddie. 
But you missed him. 
You missed him, like he missed you.
Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, or maybe not – he hopes not. 
“Yeah?” He whispers. 
You nod, your eyes flicker to his lips, before they move back up, to meet his. 
“I missed you too, Blondie.”
He nearly crumbles when your smile grows even bigger and a blush creeps up on your face, a breathy, small giggle falls from your lips. And then, you surprise him once again, when you bury your face in his chest and hug him tightly. 
His heart rate picks up and his breathing becomes heavy from all the emotions inside of him. 
He certainly never met this side of you before,and he never even knew that you could become much softer than what he had already seen of you. 
Without looking around to make sure that you are away from prying eyes, he wraps his arms tighter around you, and hugs you in a way he wanted to all night. 
Confusion, adoration and happiness floods through him, all at once. 
Here he thought that this day would bring out some darkness in you, that you would hide in a corner and try to drink away your sorrows but instead the alcohol in your system brought something else out in you. 
As Steve holds you in the middle of the fairground and you slide your palm over his chest, resting your hand above the place where his heart beats strongly, he feels himself falling into your embrace, losing all his vision of the people and the things before him, losing all the sounds around him, no longer feeling the ground beneath his feet – all he sees is you, all he hears is the beating of his own heart, all he feels is you, only you. 
And as though, it didn’t hit him hard enough already, you place your chin on his chest and you tilt your head up to look at him, giving him a sweet smile, “kissy?” You ask, puckering your lips. 
He could melt into a puddle, right then and there. 
Despite not wanting to, he lets his eyes roam the space around you, making sure that none of your friends are watching, before he leans in to place a kiss on your lips – one that is way too quick for your liking, the pout that follows your puckered lips makes his heart burst. 
You look at him with literal puppy eyes, glinting with a pleading look. 
He almost doesn’t recognize you – you are not the Blondie that he saw a few hours back, but he is not complaining in the slightest, he really likes this side of you. 
Cupping your cheeks, he rests his large palms against your skin, his fingertips getting lost in your hair as he leans down to kiss you again, smacking his lips against yours, he delivers a loud kiss, one that makes you giggle when he pulls away again and looks down at you with a lazy smile on his face. 
“How much did you drink?” Steve asks, chuckling when you keep staring at him with a big smile. 
“Just a little bit,” you slur, and raise your hand to show him as you furrow your brows and hold your thumb and pointer finger into an L shape, “so much.” 
He laughs as he tucks your hair behind your ears, “alright.”
“I want something else now.” 
“What, more alcohol?” Steve asks, raising his brows. 
You shake your head, scrunching up your nose in a way that makes him smile as he looks at you adoringly.
“No, I think I had too much already.”
“Yeah, I think so too, honey,” he murmurs, the nickname rolling off his tongue easily, almost normal, “you don’t feel sick, do you?” 
“No, just thirsty.” 
“Alright, let’s get you something to drink then,” he says, unable to stop smiling, when you look at him this way. He moves his hands away from your face and he reaches for your hand, sliding his palm against your own, he entwines his fingers with yours, and you welcome his action, happily. 
Steve isn’t drunk, he didn’t have a single sip of alcohol this evening, not a single drag of Argyle’s joint and yet, he feels as though he is under the influence of something strong, his mind is in a haze, that careless and freeing feeling lingers in his chest, happiness and giddiness rushes through him and he feels as though he is floating with you. 
He can’t even find it in himself to care if anyone sees him with you like this – smiling at each other, hugging and kissing one another, holding hands, and acting like a couple. He knows your friends are here, but Steve just doesn’t give a damn – not even when Heidi walks past him with her friends and they all look at you weirdly. 
He hears the hushed whispers, he sees the squinted eyes as they look you up and down and their eyes fall on your entwined fingers. He pays no mind to the way they look at him, but irritation sparks at him when they keep staring at you. He can see the judgment, and the jealousy, it’s so obvious. 
Steve holds back the eyeroll and he grasps your hand tighter as he begins to drag you away from the prying eyes and the whispers of envy. He would rather kiss you and flip them off but he cannot risk this, he can’t risk you two getting caught. Rumors would circulate, words would get twisted and it would only be a matter of time until all your friends would find out. 
And he isn’t ready to get caught, he isn’t ready to lose this, to lose you. 
He glances down at you, seeing the smile that didn’t leave your face just yet. You are unaware to all the eyes on you, to the looks you were given, you are still holding onto his hand as tight as before, stepping closer to him when a group of boys rush past you. 
You turn to him and raise your head to glance at him, shooting him a sweet smile as you squeeze his hand, causing his heart to flutter and his smile to reappear. 
You are so cute like this. 
He pulls you closer and shields you from anyone who brushes past you as you walk through the crowd together, getting lost in the chaotic field, where the music is louder and the people are too. 
Steve looks around, trying to catch sight of the teens or Eddie and his bandmates but he only sees the town people that he couldn’t care less about while you follow him like some lost puppy, clinging to his side and looking up with big eyes, every few seconds or so. 
You both get in line at the drink stall, your hands are still joined, fingers entwined and arms still pressed together. You stumble into him, prompting him to hold you a little tighter. 
“I’m sorry,” you slur as you reach your free hand up to grab his arm. 
“It’s fine,” he chuckles at you, adoring you a little more and more as the seconds pass. 
You are drunk – not tipsy, not slightly drunk, no, you are genuinely and definitely drunk. And as he stands here with you, eying you closely and watching the way you keep looking up at him with your widened pupils and your lazy smiles, he realizes that he had never actually witnessed you being drunk – high and tipsy? Sure. But never drunk. 
“Why’d you drink so much, Blondie?” 
“I didn’t even drink that much,” you shrug, “I’m just not used to drinking that beer.”
Steve raises his brows, knowing how much you despise the taste of regular beer. You only drink it when it’s mixed with something. 
“What kind of beer?” 
You furrow your eyebrows, your eyes flash with confusion, you seemingly can’t remember the name of it. 
You look down and your eyes widen when you find a discarded can on the grass, you point your finger at it, “that one.”
Steve’s eyes follow your gaze and the direction your finger is pointing at, he raises his eyebrows again. 
“You don’t even like beer that much,” he mumbles and turns back to you. 
“Billy did,” you shrug. 
Oh. 
His features relax again and his shoulders slump a little, realization flickers in his eyes. 
You didn’t drink for fun, you were trying to forget about the sadness and the grief that must’ve lingered all day. 
He is surprised that the alcohol didn’t have a negative effect on you. Drinking while feeling sad can worsen those emotions, the alcohol can transform them into a darker sadness or even into anger and despair. 
But you seem fine, happy even. 
If only he knew that he is the reason for it. 
“The fireworks are about to start,” you say, pulling him out of his thoughts. 
He blinks. 
“Yeah,” Steve nods. 
“Do you want to watch them with me?” 
His heart skips a beat at the softness in your voice, at the hopeful look in your eyes and the sweet smile on your lips. 
Of course he does. 
“Yeah,” he smiles, nodding. “I’d love to.”
Your eyes crinkle as you beam at him, stealing his breath away with simple reactions like these. 
Steve is not even sure if anyone had ever looked at him this way, no one has ever even made him feel this way, no one had ever stolen his breath away just from simply looking at him the way you do now. 
You take him by surprise when you stand on your tippy toes and lean closer to him to place a kiss on his cheek, leaving him a blushing mess. 
Your giggle sounds like music to his ears, your touch drives him crazy as you squeeze yourself against him and lay your head on his chest as your arms come around his torso again. 
He could fall to his knees right here, right now. 
Is this the real you? 
Is this the side you’ve been hiding from the world? 
Is this the way you would have always been with him, had you not experienced so much loss and pain? 
Steve wraps his arms around you, unable to hold back from showing and giving you the affection that you are blessing him with in this moment, even when the anxiety of getting caught still lingers. 
He cups your cheeks and leans closer to your ear, “where do you wanna watch the fireworks?” 
“Maybe the woods? Or the big field?” You ask as you look at him with big eyes, “so we can be away from all these annoying people?”
He laughs when you gesture to the loud fairground visitors.
The lights that flicker around you kiss your beautiful face and your skin that he wants to feel on his at any time, your lips that always look so inviting, you look so delicate, so soft, so gorgeous, you look like someone that could ruin his life and right in this moment, he doesn’t even mind it, he would let you. 
It hits him, in this second, it hits him just how bad he’s got it for you. 
Steve Harrington is down bad. 
Down bad to a point in which he almost calls you ‘my girl’ when he is about to order your drink, he catches himself just in time but he can’t hide the blush that creeps up on his face. 
You don’t seem to notice though, you swing your joined hands back and forth and look around with a contentment in your relaxed features. 
He hands you the ice cold pepsi after placing the ten dollar bill on the small desk, telling the teen behind the counter to keep the change. 
“That was nice of you,” you say as you both start walking away from the drink stall and from the crowds.
“What, letting him keep the change?” 
You nod and let go of his hand to open your can. 
“Poor guy has to work on a holiday, he should get a good tip,” Steve shrugs, already missing the feeling of your hand in his, he raises his arm and wraps it around your shoulder instead, pulling you closer against him. 
Your lips twitch at that, a smile forms on your face. 
“Still, that was nice of you, you’re a nice guy,” you giggle. 
“Well, I gotta make up for all the times I wasn’t a nice guy.”
You don’t say anything to that, you can’t. Steve doesn’t even blame you, you witnessed him in his worst moments, you were his target, more than once. 
You shot back at him but your words weren’t hurtful, your insults and your jabs were never personal. You got under his skin, but not in the way he got under yours. 
He truly wasn’t a nice guy to you and that might be one of his biggest regrets. He was mean, awful even and now as he looks at you, at the cute frown on your face as you pop the can, at the way you take a sip of your favorite drink and smile afterwards, he can’t understand how he could ever treat you so unkindly, how he didn’t see you before.  
You might’ve been rough, snarky and unapproachable but there was never denying of how beautiful you are, how beautiful you have always been. 
How come he never asked you out? 
He might’ve never seen this side of you before and he only ever knew one side of you, but your snarkiness wouldn’t have kept King Steve away from you, if anything, your little act should’ve made him more intrigued. 
And now he can’t help but wonder what things would have been like had he not treated you the way he did, had he asked you out and fought for a chance with you. 
Could’ve things been different then? 
Would you have fallen in love with him? 
Would you have prevented the heartbreak that Nancy had cursed him with two years ago? 
The pain from his last relationship no longer matters to Steve, not since you, but this question still lingers. 
“This spot is perfect.”
You pull him out of the past and back into the presence with a tug on his hand. 
Steve looks around, you are no longer surrounded by people, instead it’s the trees that are around you and him, you’re at the edge of the forest, not far enough to drown at the music and the chatter but quiet enough to hear your voice clearer now, it’s much darker out here but he can still see you well enough. 
You close your eyes and drink your pepsi, completely unaware of his unwavering glances. A sigh leaves your lips and you place the now half full can on the ground before you step closer to him and reach for his hand again, taking a look at the watch around his wrist, you squint your eyes and lean down closer, “it’s about to start any minute.” 
He smiles at you, nodding his head slowly, “yeah.”
Steve feels the urge to pull you tight against him, to hold you and kiss you like he never did before. 
You look up and meet his eyes when you notice his staring, a smile appears on your lips, “what?” You ask with a soft giggle. 
He shakes his head and shrugs, “nothing.”
You bite your lip and he wants nothing more than to grab your face and kiss you breathless. 
You raise your eyebrows at him and stare back at him, stumbling over air as you try to take a step closer to him, making you both chuckle at your drunken clumsiness, your hand falls against his body, while he grabs your waist, steadying you on your own feet, “whoa, easy tiger.” 
You giggle at the nickname, making his own smile widen. 
“You’re really drunk, aren’t you?” 
You don’t even deny it, in fact, you don’t even answer the question as you keep staring up at him, keeping your hands against his chest as your eyes flicker from the spitcurl that hangs over his forehead, his eyes and his lips. 
Steve’s stomach flutters just the way his heart does, his skin tingles beneath from your touches, the look in your eyes makes him want to kiss you even more. 
“You’re feeling okay though, right?” He whispers as he slowly brings his hand up to the side of your face and he cups your cheek. 
“Yeah, I’m okay now,” you nod, leaning into his touch, “I-I just… I miss him.”
Steve might never understand the friendship you had with Billy, he only knew the ugly sides of him but you knew more, you saw deeper, you were his friend – something Steve didn’t even know Billy had, he was sure the guy didn’t even know what the term ‘friendship’ even meant. 
“And that’s okay, Blondie,” he says, giving you a sad smile, “it’s okay to miss people and to grieve for them.”
Tears well up in your eyes and your lips curl downwards. 
Steve didn’t mean for this to happen, he didn’t mean to make you cry. 
“Hey,” he whispers, pulling you closer as he catches the first tear with his thumb, “it’s okay, honey.”
You sniffle and roll your eyes at yourself, “he would punch me in the face for crying,” you joke.
Steve can’t help but laugh. 
“And he’d make fun of me for being with you, he would like–” you pause and lean in to peck his lips, “he would smack my head if I did that in front of him!” You say with a giggle, despite the tears that still keep falling.
His cheeks heat up at the kiss, the need for more growing strong in his chest. 
“He really didn’t like me, huh?”
“Not one fucking bit, Stevie,” you chuckle sadly. 
Steve wonders how things would be if he was still here, would this thing between you even work out? 
Would Billy keep you away from him?
“But nothing could take me away from you, he’d just have to suck it up,” you whisper as you peck his lips again, shutting down the worries in his head. 
He almost feels his pulse in his throat as his heart beats faster, your words doing little to calm the beating of his heart. 
“Oh?” Is the only thing he can say as all the other words freeze in his brain. 
You nod as you look into his eyes deeply, refusing to break eye contact. He notices the way your chest starts moving faster as your breathing gets heavier, he sees the way your smile transforms into a nervous frown and your throat bobs as you try to come up with words. 
His breath hitches in his throat when you whisper his name shakily. 
“I–”
Whatever you were about to say gets lost in the wind as the loud explosion in the sky cuts you off and tears your attention away from him. The colors pop in the sky, illuminating the darkened space around you both.
You tilt your head to watch the lights that reflect in your eyes, the smile you wore before makes its way back into your pretty face, the tension in your body disappears and you relax into him again. 
But while your drunken mind gets distracted by all of this so easily, Steve only really sees you. He doesn’t look up just yet, he lets himself admire you for a moment. 
Your eyes light up as they meet his for a brief second, flashing with awe. 
His heart could jump out of his chest from how hard it’s beating, his knees could give out any moment now. 
“Look!” You beam at him as you point your finger at the blue colors. 
His gaze follows yours but it returns to your face so quickly, something about you pulls him in, a magnet, a string, a strong connection – he can’t identify it yet, but he feels like his whole being yearns for you and not just sexually. 
He wants to keep doing this, he wants to keep holding your hand, he wants to keep hugging you, he wants to keep spending time with you like this, he wants to stand under the night sky with you, and he especially wants to do this. 
“Hey,” he whispers as he cups your cheeks with both hands, pulling your attention back to him. 
You greet him with an adoring smile, “hi,” you whisper.
Steve caresses your cheek, he is starting to lean in closer, fading out the colors that flash in his peripheral vision, before his lips can even touch yours, you throw your arms around his neck and beat him to it, pressing your lips against his over and over again before you move on to both of his cheeks and even the tip of his nose as you start showering him in kisses, catching him off guard completely. 
Steve giggles in surprise, his cheeks match the colors that lighten up the sky as they glow red. 
And then, you finally pull him into a longer kiss. 
You close your eyes and he does too, your lips start moving slowly, passionately. You rest your hands on his neck and steal his breath away by deepening the kiss as you slip your tongue into his mouth and let him have a taste of your sweetness, the cotton candy and the pepsi still linger on your lips. 
Your noses bump into each other and you break the kiss with a giggle, giving him a sweet smile before you lean back in again, kissing and continuing to steal his breath away, not knowing what you have just done to his poor heart, how much life, how much hope you have filled it with. 
A smile, a giggle, a simple kiss with you is all it takes for all the defense around him to crumble into dust. 
Something he thought he lost seeps back into his heart, something he thought that stayed in the past and to never be touched again blooms in him. 
Everything inside of him screams in joy, his stomach doing somersaults, his skin prickling from the excitement, his lips tugging into a smile even through the kiss that he deepens more and more. 
This kiss is different from all the other ones you have shared before, this one means something, this one won’t lead to you tearing each other’s clothes off. No, this is just a kiss. 
A kiss that means everything. 
A kiss that changes everything. 
You stole his breath completely and made it your own, you stole his heart, his soul, his whole being. 
And the noise of the fireworks, the sparks igniting from them, match those in Steve's heart. Just exploding, bursting, burning him from inside out.
And he embraces the feeling fully.
He wants more of this, more of you. 
He wants to cross a line, he wants you in a whole new way and he is no longer ashamed to admit it to himself. 
It feels like forever as you stand there beneath the sparkling sky, kissing and staying in each other’s embrace as you both savor every second of this moment, only pulling away to catch your breaths before you lean back in for more. 
The fireworks stop, but only those in the sky. 
Your lips are still moving with each other, your tongues still mingling together, whines and whimpers fall from you – tonight, they don’t fill him with lust and need, no, tonight they fill him with adoration. 
Your arms tighten around his neck, your nose is flush against his as you refuse to break the kiss but the lack of air makes it impossible and it forces you away from him, though you don’t pull away too far, only enough to catch your breath.
Steve leans his forehead against yours, slowly opening his eyes to look into yours, his heart flutters yet again when he sees how wide your eyes are, how they flicker with deep emotions. 
Unable to hold back, he leans in to peck your puffy lips one more time. 
“Steve,” you whisper as your hands begin to slip from his shoulders to his chest. 
“Yes?”
“Can I be with you tonight?”
He furrows his brows at your question, he wants you to be with him tonight, he wants you with him every night. 
“Of course, Blondie.”
You smile at him though it’s a weak one and it makes him frown. 
“What’s wrong?” 
“Nothing,” you shake your head, scrunching your nose. 
“Are you feeling sick?” He asks, tilting your head up. 
You shake your head again, “just really tired.”
Your words are still slurred, the alcohol still deep in your system. 
“Let’s go home then.”
“Do you want to go?” You ask, looking at him with a cute frown on your face as you tilt your head to the side, “I-I can still wait if you want to stay here longer.”
Steve smiles at you, shaking his head, “no, I want to go home with you.”
The smile on your lips replaces the frown. 
He brushes his thumb against your bottom lip and stares at you adoringly. 
“Come on, we should tell Eddie.” 
You pick up your discarded drink before you slide your fingers through his, intertwining your fingers with his again. 
“Let’s go,” he whispers, squeezing your hand. 
You follow him without a single word, walking beside him quietly as you make your way out of the woods and back into the fair where the lights are bright and he can see you better now. 
It’s still just as crowded as it was before and just as loud. 
Steve keeps you close, glancing at you, he notices the squinted eyes and how displeased you look by all the noises and the people around you. 
He holds your hand tighter, giving it another reassuring squeeze. 
“I can’t wait to go to sleep,” you mumble, taking the last few sips of your soda before you throw it into the trashcan you pass by. You wrap your free hand around his bicep and squish your cheek against it.
Steve’s smile widens, his eyes glint with nothing but fondness. 
“There you are!” 
Steve turns to find Eddie walking towards you both, throwing his hands up with a worried look on his face that slowly begins to disappear when he realizes that you have been with him all this time, though his eyebrows pull together when he sees your entwined hands and the closeness between you. 
Steve expects you to run away from him and into your best friend’s arms, but you don’t, you stick to his side. 
“Hi Eddie!” You mumble lazily as a smile appears on your face. 
You all halt in your tracks once you meet in the middle. 
“Hey sweets, are you okay?” He asks, eying you up and down one more time. 
“Peachy!”
“Where have you been?” 
Steve clears his throat, “we watched the fireworks from the woods and now I’m gonna take this one home, she’s tired.”
Eddie squints his eyes at him, giving a once over now – the way he has been doing it for some time now, like he is suspicious of his actions, like he wants to figure him out so he can protect you from him and irritates Steve. 
“I can take her home,” Eddie shrugs. 
“No!” You protest, clinging to Steve’s arm, you hold him tighter not wanting to be pulled away from him. 
Steve chuckles softly, he looks down at you adoringly. 
“Don’t worry, Eddie. I’ll take her home to sleep, maybe shove some coffee down her throat, see if that helps. I am sensing I’m having a hungover Blondie tomorrow.” 
Eddie raises one eyebrow at him, he crosses his arms over his chest, defensively. And Steve notices it from the corner of his eye, causing the smile to leave his face as a frown etches into his features instead. 
“I’m not doing anything if that's what you’re fucking thinking, Munson.” 
Eddie raises his hands up in surrender, “sorry, can’t blame me for caring.”
That… Stings. 
That actually hurts his feelings. 
He may not be as close to Eddie as you are to him, but Eddie knows him well enough to know that he would never do anything like this. 
“You really think I’m that disgusting?” Steve asks, not bothering to hide the hurt in his voice. 
Eddie sighs. 
Of course he doesn’t. 
He is just protective of his best friend, of her feelings. 
Neither of you notice the way you keep looking between them, completely lost and confused. 
“I don’t know what kind of deal you both have, Steve, but I’m allowed to care. I would’ve given her the same look if the roles were reversed.” 
“She’s not like that,” Steve argues instantly. 
Eddie sighs again, uncrossing his arms, he drops them to his side as he takes a look at the sky with a long sigh. 
“I know she’s not, I know you’re not. Just… take care of her…”
Steve is still hurt by Eddie’s reaction, by the accusing look in his eyes, like Steve would do anything to hurt you. 
He knows that it might only be because you are his best friend, because he feels protective of you, because he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you – but to know that he was worried about you while you were with him makes him feel sick. 
Steve would never do anything to hurt someone, let alone you. 
“Can we go now?” You ask, looking up at him with big eyes. 
A weak smile appears on his face as he looks down at you, “yeah, we can go.”
Steve doesn’t notice the way Eddie’s squinted eyes linger on him, the way he looks down at your hands, watching as Steve pulls you closer despite you being glued to his side already. 
He can’t help but sigh when he sees the way you look at him, the dreaminess and the love is so evident and it worries him, your feelings for Steve worry him because he fears that he will break your heart, that he will rip it out of your chest. 
Eddie is so focused on his worries, he doesn’t even see the way Steve looks at you. 
“I’m gonna call you tomorrow, Eds.”
Eddie smiles at you, “yeah, alright.” 
Steve nods at Eddie, only giving him a small smile as he starts pulling you away. 
“Bye man,” Steve mumbles as he brushes past him. 
“Bye Eddie!” 
“Yeah, sleep well, sweets.” Eddie smiles, waving at you. 
Walking away from the fairground and leaving behind the crowds of people and your best friend feels like a relief to Steve. He can’t move past the glances the metalhead gave to him, the worried looks he spared you as though you were in some kind of danger with him. 
He can’t confront him, he can’t talk to him about it and tell him how wrong he is though, he would give away his feelings and he can’t do that. 
You walk beside him quietly, not a single word falls from your lips, you just keep holding his hand, looking up at him every once in a while until you make it to his car. 
Steve opens the door for you, begrudgingly letting go of you so you can get inside, he helps you buckle in your seatbelt, a surprised chuckle falls from his lips when you use the opportunity to kiss his cheek and he can’t even help himself but do the same to you, smacking his lips against your cheek to give you a loud smooch, one that makes you giggle. 
He can see the tiredness in your eyes, the way you slowly blink and how you sink deeper into the car seat as you yawn. 
“Let's get you into bed, honey.”
Steve keeps the music on low during the drive home, you keep dozing off as your head keeps falling to the side but every time you open your eyes again, you look at him and you keep your eyes on him, making him blush beneath your softened gaze. 
And then, you make his heart swell and his chest vibrate when you place your hand on his thigh and smile at him sweetly. 
Everything about you drives him crazy today. 
Every glance, every touch, every word, every kiss. 
You have brought something out in him, something that was buried deep inside, hidden and locked away but you have found the key, you unlocked it, you brought something back that he thought was impossible to ever resurface again and you made it yours, you made him yours, all yours. 
And now, he wants to give you everything. 
He wants to take care of you, he wants to shower you with affection, he wants to be the one for you. 
You’re making things complicated but in the most amazing of ways, in the most beautiful of twists that he couldn’t believe would happen again for him. Your small glances are enough to turn a flame in his entire body, your hand on his thigh as he parks at his home enough to send butterflies in his stomach, butterflies that he swore died when Nancy broke his heart.
Your touch is enough to make him tremble and make his knees buckle, when he helps you out of his car, both of you laugh as you almost fall right on your ass, even with his help. He is happy. He is content. He is extremely giddy when he is with you, as if he were fourteen all over again.
Even when you are not like this, when you are not this bubbly uncaring self, he still enjoys his time with you. He enjoys the accidental snorts that make him laugh as you swat him to try to stop him from laughing. The happy delighted moans you give when you try his cooking. The out of nowhere conversations in the mornings that you two now share together. 
He likes it when you put on that strong wall, it makes you look cute, it makes him want to break it down. He loves the small banter, the pretend fights when you two are with the whole group, the way you pinch his side when you walk past him when no one is looking. He adores it.
When he finally manages to get you inside, he immediately urges you into the kitchen, making you drink water, not pepsi, despite your pouts and your teary eyes which almost make him become a puddle on the floor. He also gives you a leftover chicken sandwich he had in his fridge so you would eat something to absorb the alcohol.
“Eat at least half of that.” He commands and you just grumble something, cutely so, underneath your breath as you take a bite. He knew you probably didn’t eat anything at the fair, a possible reason for your drunkenness.
“I’ll eat… if you give me a kiss.” And just like that you pucker your lips his way and his heart can barely handle it. He licks his lips before leaning towards you and placing them on yours in a soft peck, a quick one. You smile before taking the first bite, and when you swallow it seems as if it turns on the hunger in your belly because you devour that sandwich in seconds.
He hopes you keep it down your stomach for the whole night and that it helps you feel okay in the morning. He wonders how you will act tomorrow, if you’ll remember all of this, if you’ll remember how much you kissed him, how you made him feel. He should tell you… He should…
But what if it’s the alcohol doing its thing?
“Okay, let’s go to bed.” And doing so turns out to be a challenge because as soon as you finish your food and water, your eyelids start to drop. Getting you off the stool and dragging you upstairs is easy but keeping you sitting up as he tries to change you into his clothes, that is another issue.
“I don’t wanna…” You mumble as you throw yourself back down onto the mattress, chest bare. He would have gotten riled up, if it weren’t for the fact he felt domestic, fluttery, and his chuckles came out easily out of his lips when looking at you.
“You have to, it’s just the shirt, come on.” His voice is soft as he talks to you, making you raise yourself up again, sitting in front of him and raising your arms up for him to slide his shirt on you. As soon as it’s on, you bounce back and get comfortable in his pillow with a contented sigh. He smiles at you as he takes off his shirt and starts unbuckling his belt in order to get comfortable. His own tiredness is starting to take a toll on his body.
He doesn’t notice that you had turned your head to look at him again, and a wolf whistle is heard in the room, making him turn to look at you. You have a cheeky smile on your face and he feels himself blushing slightly as he laughs, taking his pants off next, leaving him in boxers only. 
“As if you haven’t seen it before.” He says and it only makes you whistle again as he saunters over with a shake of his head, a smile still plastered on his lips.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t adore it everytime,” you whisper. 
And that makes the smile drop, but in shock. Your words went deep, soothing over wounds that had been created long ago, and he doesn’t mean his scars. He has to clear his throat in order to walk towards the bed and get inside right next to you, only for you to immediately crawl on top of him, laying your chin on his chest, looking at him.
It holds so much adoration for some reason, a sparkle that makes Steve’s stomach turn, hope that rose in his throat like vomit, ready to come out, overwhelming him. You are looking at him as if he hung the stars for you, as if he were your only person in the entire world. 
And he knows he is looking down at you in the exact same way.
“What now?”
“You’re just so pretty… It’s stupid how pretty you are.” He chuckles, making his chest rumble and for you to bounce up and down with it. 
You pout but it’s followed by a smile, “it’s true, you are.”
“I’m not told that very often Blondie.” He honestly replies and that makes you raise your head up and look down at him with determination in your eyes. “Wh–”
He can’t even finish his question because your lips start going crazy on his face, but softly, caring, taking extra time on following the lines of moles he has on his jaw. He is startled, shocked, for no one ever did this to him, not even his own mother. No one ever showered him with affection, with kisses. 
And as though that wasn’t sweet and surprising enough, you nuzzle your nose against his, giggling when a big smile appears on his face. 
You are cute. You are so fucking cute. 
It is an overwhelming feeling, one that almost makes him feel like crying. 
Your lips pressed on the tip of his nose as you pulled away, a proud smile on your face, and he wonders what is going through your mind right now. If it it’s all true, fuck, he wants it all to be true. He needs it to be true. He needs and desires that you are doing all of this intentionally to him, despite the alcohol. 
“There, now you know.” 
You really are beautiful, so beautiful. He feels drunk on you, seeing you, feeling you… his hand rises up, not able to contain himself as it runs through the back of your head and pulls you down to his lips, letting him give you a deep kiss. A kiss that made the fireworks he saw earlier explode inside his room again. 
You follow his lips with a hum, and he doesn’t want to pull away. He needs it all. He needs you. Not in the way he has been having you the past month. Not at all, not even close.
He lets you pull away, and his hand caresses your cheek, pulling your head down to rest on his chest again as your legs intertwine with his underneath the sheets. He wonders if you can hear how fast his heart is beating. If it bangs your head from how hard he feels his chest being hit with it. 
“Sleep Blondie.” He wishes anything but that, but he needs the silence, the time alone.
“Hmm… night Stevie…” And he knows your eyes are closed, that you mumble that with the last bit of strength you had. His eyes remain on the ceiling as his mind starts working, gears going round and round, going overtime.
He had been running from the definition of the feeling, even if he knew it was there, even if he accepted everything else that came with it. He kept running and running, and now he had hit a wall.
So it’s time to stop and turn around to face you.
Steve Harrington decides to stop running as he looks down at you and his lips press at the top of your head while his arms hold you tighter. You whine in your sleep, yet your cheek nuzzles even more into his chest. 
He can’t deny you anymore. Not when you look like this in his arms. Not when you peppered his face with kisses he never received. Not when he saw you in a vulnerable moment of yours. Not when he gets to see you moan in pleasure because of him. Not when he gets to see you have fun with everyone else. Not when you saved his life, going headfirst for him. Not when you already send smiles his way that make his heart stop.
And if you wake up tomorrow with a headache, he will be waiting for you with coffee in hand, an advil, and some food, ready to help you. To take care of you. He will let you lay in his bed all the time you need, all in order to make you feel better.
Because Steve Harrington started feeling again.
He likes you. He terribly and adoringly likes you… and he is afraid because–
It’s nowhere near little. Not at all.
“Can’t believe I fell for you, Blondie.”
tagging friends and mutuals!
@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars
468 notes · View notes
dearramiel · 1 year
Note
billy desperately trying to babytrap his girl after she tries to break up w him🤭
This is so good.
✧ - baby trapping, subconscious manipulation, verbal abuse, violent!billy, billy is overprotective, obsessive, and possessive, implied stalker! billy, mentions of billy beating up jason tommy h & some other guy, controlling behavior, toxic relationship, gaslighting, guiltriping, unprotected sex( piv), breeding, cockwarming, mentions of tampering with birth control but it doesn't actually happen, hint of fluff at the end,
Billy's infatuation with you starts the very first day he looks at you, a beautiful, shy, charismatic girl who he could bend at will. He knew he would have you, it wasn't even a matter of how but when.
He was good at orchestrating everything, from the very first time you talk, the heated kisses, and first time hooking up. Billy wasn't your first, but you sure as hell felt like a virgin the first time you took him. He made you feel good, loved, he was sweet, caring, and charming. Just two months in, everything had changed. From the very beginning he knew you were different than other girls he had been with, he never had a girlfriend, and it hit him like a shock. He started acknowledging how much depth his love went, at first it was just him messing around with another girl, but he had gone way off track.
It was hard not to, you had been the only girl to care for him, rather than his dick. You were different. You treated him different than any other person.
It wasn't all on him anyway, you weren't stupid, you knew what Billy's intentions were from the beginning, he'd never once talked to you, but it began to get hard to let go when he kept you around, not shoving you through his window after hooking up, not pretending like you didn't exist when he walked by you at school, offering rides after he proposed in exchange for him to be lenient on Max being late, or even how he had stopped going after other girls.
Everything was so sweet, until he let the intrusive thoughts in.
He started asking who the people you talked to were, walking you to classes you didn't have together during passing period, insisted on driving you to work after school, picking you up and dropping you off home.
Eventually his obsession turned violent, going after Jason Carver after finding you two together during a pep rally, a big misunderstanding that could have been avoided had he just asked what you were bringing to him.
Billy had become somewhat self aware of what he was doing, quickly becoming insecure, and hateful. But he couldn't help it, because he genuinely loved and cared for you, he wanted you all to himself, this sweet girl who let him in. He was good at guilt guiltriping you with that, telling you how much he loved you.
It made you feel restless, having to make sure you weren't talking to specific people he didn't like, making sure not to stare too long at some other guy, spending all your free time with him, letting him know that there was a test you had to make up before going to work. You felt like your life was being controlled, and inviting him over while no one was home was your biggest mistake.
Spring break had just started, it was a Saturday evening when Billy had received the call. Of course he'd pull up to his girlfriends house in under 10 minutes, especially when she gave the "It's important and serious.".
Billy was rapidly knocking on the door, yelling your name, and when you open to let him in, he can tell that something really is wrong.
You're spouting nonsense to him, being so annoying, talking about how he doesn't love you, and that he's obsessed with you. Part of which was really wrong, because Billy did love you. He just had this horrible way of showing it.
It doesn't take long for you to get him angry, he begins yelling back. Saying that Carver, Tommy H, and Smith deserved getting their asses flipped. To which you yell that he shouldn't go about fixing things with violence.
"I just can't do this."
And he snaps, eyes blurring, warm droplets falling to his neck, when he blinks he realizes that he's crying. And it has you shocked.
"What?" His voice is small and broken, it almost has you wanting to take back what you've said. But it's hard to do so, because he's scared you already.
"No, please no." He cries as he reached out to you, wrapping his arms tightly around your body, another act that shocks you, he's never been one to initiate affection. He's almost cradling you, "Can't lose you, please don't."
You're not sure if it's an act, one to lure you in, but you take the bait anyway. Because while the ideas of what he's capable of to the extent of his love terrify you, you also remember that you do love him too. That he's never once laid a hand, or ever been physically abusive to you.
"I'm sorry Billy, I didn't mean it. It's just, you scare me sometimes!"
Anguish breaks into his body, when the realizations kick in. It's a thought that's etched into his mind, the fact that you've thought about leaving him. The fact that you even said it.
"I'm sorry baby, let me make it up to you please.. I promise I'll take care of you." His tone sends shivers down your spine, it's the one he always uses, it messes with you subconsciously and you never picked up on it.
You nod your head rapidly, breathing in deeply when Billy's teeth gently sink into the flesh on the side of your neck. Your panting reels him in further, letting him take full control of your body.
You don't even know how you ended up on your back, in your room, and on your bed, both you and Billy fully nude. Both your bodies decorated with bites and love marks. You're crying into the air as Billy's cock is shoved into your aching tight hole. You can feel every inch of him, to the point where you swear you feel his tip hit up snuggly against your cervix, and Billy swears he feels it too, because he begins a brutal pace. Mouth stealing a heated kiss from you. Between the messy kiss, your stuttering moan fills his ears.
"Fuuuuckkk, Billyyy! M'gonna cum!" You whimper, arms and legs wrapping around his body, pulling him to you, almost inviting him further inside you. He's reaching the deepest he can, he's never been or even felt so feral during sex. Both his hands were clenching harshly onto the pillow your head was rested on, he's using it as stability to continue thrusting so hard and fast, he feels like he's also about to cum.
"Yeah? Then cum, need to feel you all over me." The thought alone is enough to send you spiraling, a gush of liquid seeps out, drenching and covering his abdomen and cock in your cum. A long moan rips through you, your walls clamp so tightly around Billy that it only takes a couple more thrusts before his cock plunges into the deepest part of you.
"Fuuck! Babe'm gonna cum, cunt is all mine, gonna breed you so they know you're mine. You want that, don't you?" He groans into your ear, burying his face into your neck, your response is nonverbal, it's just you frantically nodding your head up and down before you decide to speak up.
"Yes! Please, Billy, want you to make me yours!" You babble, then it happens cum begins filling up your insides until you feel full. Billy's weight drops on you then, cum still spurting a few more times before he is absolutely spent.
You can feel him soften inside you, little bits of cum threatening to spill out. The feeling has you whimpering, it's then that Billy remembers he's still inside you. When he goes to lift himself up, a whine is heard from you.
"Billy.. no, don't go.. please. Wanna stay with you like this." You beg, your tired eyes droopy, your arms still holding him tightly.
"Not going anywhere baby. Love you so much." He slurs, high of sex, leaving kisses all over your face.
"I love you too, Billy.. so much.."
He had you right where he wanted you.
Those condoms he planned to poke holes into weren't really necessary after all.
3K notes · View notes
rogueddie · 2 years
Text
Steve felt numb. There had been such a strong mix of good news and bad news and Steve didn't know how to deal with any of it.
Max is alive. Sort of. She's brain dead, which Steve understands as her just being dead. A beating heart doesn't change the fact that she, Max, isn't there anymore.
She's just a body with a beating heart, everything that made her Max is gone. The scolding looks, mocking tone she'd take, the way she'd put on a silly voice and call Steve 'Dad' whenever he worried over her too much. The way she sometimes called him Dad like she meant it, like she genuinely saw him as a father figure.
The way she would insist on him driving her to school and playing some of Billys mixtapes. The way she had cried when she told Steve how guilty she felt for loving Steve, the way she should have loved Billy.
But Eleven keeps trying to bring her back. Every day she goes back to that hospital room, holds onto Max with a bruising grip, trying to bring her back.
And Eddie. Steve still isn't sure how he'd been able to drag him out, running on pure fear and adrenaline. Somehow they'd gotten him to a hospital in time, they'd been able to stitch him together- but it's still touch and go. He's so severelly injured and they have him on so many drugs that, even when he's awake, he's not really. There's so much internal damage too that the doctors can't be sure he'll make it.
But he's alive. He's still fighting through it. And they're clearing his name. Hopper and some agents, working relentlessly on alibis and redirecting the blame. Its hard work, but it's working. And it's good news, Eddie will finally be seen as the good guy he is. But he's still potentially dying.
And Steve is so tired. He doesn't even have the energy to be worried when he sees his parents car in the driveway.
He stops when he finally gets inside though, blinking at the three suitcases he'd be given for travelling, clearly stuffed full. "Uh. Hello? Mom?"
It's his dad that storms in, expression thunderous. He's holding the vest Eddie gave him, waving it like it's damning evidence. "Did you think we wouldn't find out? You and that freak, Munson."
Steve stares at him for a moment. He's so tired, he's ran out of... everything. He doesn't even feel angry. Doesn't even feel irritated enough to roll his eyes. Simply sighs, holds hand ok, giving a defeated, "ok."
"Ok? That all you have to say for yourself?"
"Yeah, pretty much. I'm tired."
His dad scoffs, throws the vest at him as hard as he can. "Go find some hole to crawl inside of then. Change your name."
Steve puts the vest on, ignoring the way his dad flushes red, veins bursting out with his rage. He struggles to get all three suitcases in his hands, but he manages. "Mom not here?"
"She deserves better than what you've become," he sniffs, looking down on him.
"She deserves better than a cheating husband who doesn't love her." He glances to the kitchen. Raises his voice a little, just enough for anyone downstairs to hear him say, "she doesn't know about your secretary though, huh?"
He makes his leave as quick as he can, already sat in the drivers seat by the time his dad storms outside, yelling.
He spends that night in Eddies hospital room. Eddie even makes room for him to curl up next to him- it's a little awkward with the tubes and wires, but they manage it. The nurses aren't happy when they find them, their limbs tangled up together.
Robin looks painfully amused when she finds him sat on the floor outside the hospital, barely stopping herself from laughing when he explains that he was kicked out. She's not as happy when she finds out that he's homeless now but, like Eddie had told him, he has plenty of options.
It's only an hour later that Wayne Munson and Claudia Henderson are arguing about whos spare room would be better for Steve to stay in. It doesn't help when El throws in Hoppers cabin as an option, holding Steves hand and looking up at him with wide, sad eyes.
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lizziesblueberries · 9 months
Text
Relax
Tumblr media
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 5,598
Warnings: Mommy Kink, Mommy!Wanda, Bottom!Reader, but wait Top!Reader, praise kink, smut, yandere Wanda, possessive Wanda, possessive reader, maybe the dynamic switches, maybe it doesn’t, g!p reader, drinking breast milk, blowjob???, hehehe, maybe some rough sex, fluff, service Wanda, dom reader? Idk depends how you see it, |minors DNI, 18+
Summary: Fifth and final part to the series. The boys are finally here! And you and Wanda deserve some much needed time to yourselves.
Notes: Hello! I know its been so long since I last wrote, a whole year! And quite the year it has been. I just want to say thank you all for liking and commenting my stories. It means a lot and I’ve been so excited to write more for all of you! (and more importanlty, myself 😏) I do have more stories in plan and this will be the last fic for this series, so I hope it satisfies you all. Honestly, I cant wait to post the next story for you guys, this next one is definitely a bit more intense and dare I say, violent, duh duh dun! Anywho, enjoy my thirsty fan club!
Part 4
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It’s been about 10 months since you first discovered you were pregnant, ten months since you and Wanda visited that quaint little Sokovian town and saw Strange. Ten months since you woke up with Wanda’s cum filling you completely and then having it ooze out of you when Wanda slowly pulled out. And its been one month since you gave birth to two beautiful little boys named Tommy and Billy.
A whole month has gone by, and it has been the most emotional and exhausting and best month of your life. You and Wanda gave birth in the cabin, Wanda having done a ton of research to prepare yourselves for when the boys came. And Wanda was the prefect partner. You on the other hand, well, Wanda wouldn’t say it out loud otherwise, for her sake. You had been going through emotional mood swings and cravings and body changes, and poor Wanda had to take the brunt of it all. Honestly, the amount of times you cried, threw up, or just threw a pillow at Wanda’s head, was countless. Wanda being Wanda, excepted it all and waited patiently for you to either calm down or rapidly change from angry to needy or some other mood that didn’t involve you wanting to aim something at her head.
Don’t get her wrong, there were some moments where she needed to take some deep breaths, but she knew you were going through something you couldn’t exactly control. And you were the one who was bearing her kids, so, it was the least she could do not to get frustrated or mad at you. You of course always appreciated her patience after, you were weirded out at first from the feeling of little bodies growing inside you, but you soon learned to love their little kicks and Wanda loved sensing their life as well. She spent the majority of your pregnancy being over joyed and over protective. If you so much as even suggested leaving the house for a walk, Wanda would immediately say no and try to distract you with other things. One of those things being sex. You honestly never thought you would ever turn Wanda down from any of her advances, but pregnancy seemed to prove you wrong. When you were in the mood for something it would stay that way until you got it. You would ask to go for a short walk outside, and her eyes would flash with panic, quickly coming up with another suggestion and press kisses against your throat.
“Why don’t we stay inside my love? Where it’s safe and warm, and perhaps reenact another magical moment together?” Wanda would say, doing her best to turn your mind somewhere else, but you were also stubborn. And while you may think you were the simp here, it was in fact Wanda who was the simp.
“No, I’m not in the mood Wanda I want some air and to look at some fucking trees for once, I need to stretch my legs.” You would say, and Wanda, the ever respectful lover, would back off and agree to you. Of course part of the agreement to go outside would involve you staying within a ten foot perimeter around the house and Wanda by your side at all times searching for any danger. It was cute though, to see Wanda so protective and vigilant for you and the boys, so you couldn’t really complain, you got to go outside anyways.
It seemed Wanda got even softer as you grew bigger, her jade eyes always on you, concerned, loving, or just gleeful to see you. Her protectiveness and possessiveness was still there, but there was something else. Your relationship turned into something more equal, she valued what you had to say and what to do, and you seemed to have understood her better than anyone. Loving each other in a more natural and at home kind of way and not just passion.
When the day finally did come, boy was Wanda the least calm you had ever seen her. She could feel your pain and wanted everything to go ok, laying you down and preparing for when the boys would come. Her magic surrounding everything she needed and almost pulsing in worry with her. You weren’t as worried at that point like she was, probably because you felt like your insides were tearing apart at that moment, honestly, who thought it was a good idea for women to give birth this way? That thought left your mind though as soon as you finally got a look at Tommy. Calm for a baby who just entered the world, but then again this was Wanda’s son. You nearly cried at the sight of him, then Billy was on the way and you definitely cried from having to go through the pain again.
It became a blur after that, but one thing you definitely remember seeing, was your two beautiful boys, and your beautiful wife, holding them. Wanda looked radiant, her eyes glistened and her smile was something only held for her boys and you. She gave you Billy soon after she checked for your health, using her magic and spells to make sure you were ok and not in pain anymore. And when you held Billy in your arms, you knew he was going to be a mamas boy, empathetic and sweet for his moms and brother. Wanda sat next to you on the freshly cleaned bed and you looked at Tommy adoringly. He was definitely going to be the one to drag Billy into all sorts of trouble, and from what you heard from Wanda’s stories of them, you would be very right.That night you and Wanda fell asleep with the boys held cradled into your chests (a spell was cast to not hurt them in your sleep of course) and you laid in bed as a new family.
A month has passed since then, and while you would never regret having the twins, they were honestly too adorable, your lack of sleep was weighing on you. The boys were little balls of energy and consumed everything they ate, crying for attention and waking you and Wanda up almost every two-three hours. Being pregnant and already developing milk, you and Wanda decided to breast feed them. This was not as fun as you would think, the whole, ‘babies drinking from their mother will increase the bond’ was not exactly true, those boys would suck everything dry, regardless of where it came from, and you were starting to think breastfeeding was not the grandest idea. Your breasts were sore and you couldn’t really produce enough milk for two growing baby boys, one of them being a speedster mind you.
And this ends our little summary of the past few months up until now. You, having just put the boys to sleep, and for once, the boys are not hungry. So now, you’re tired, AND sore with milk and you just wanted to have a nice relaxing night for once. You quietly walk out of the room downstairs to the kitchen, where Wanda is leaning against the counter sipping tea. Her eyes are slightly glazed from sleep, and she’s wearing a red robe like you are. You walk up to her and just fall into her front, head going into her neck and leaning all your weight into her. Wanda grunts from the surprise weight and sets her mug to the side to wrap her arms around you and hold you to her. You sigh into her and she just rests her head against yours.
“What is it detka? Tired?” Wanda quietly says, moving to softly rub her hands along your back soothingly. You just nod your head and let out a little hum. She chuckles at this and squeezes you to her, only instead of a happy sigh like she thought she would get from you, she gets a hiss of pain and immediately pulls back to look at you in worry. “What was that? What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing Wanda I’m just sore because the boys didn’t feed, I think I’m going to get the pump out.” You say tiredly, not really bothered anymore, just wanting to get rid of the ache and milk and just head to bed. You turn and start to walk away, heading towards the cabinet to get the pump, but Wanda tugs on your hand, so you turn back to her in confusion. She looks you up and down, thoughtful and concerned, and maybe it’s the sleep talking but you think you also see a dark glint in her eye.
“What if I helped you out with that darling?” Wanda asks, and you just turn back around not really getting what she’s trying to say.
“That’s ok Wanda, I mean, unless you want to turn it on and watch, there’s not much to really help with the pump.” You walk away, across the kitchen and are about to grab the pump, but scarlet magic suddenly stops you, keeping you in place. “Wanda what-“
“I’m sorry baby, I don’t think you quite understood my question. I’m not asking to use the pump, I’m asking, if you would like my help with getting rid of some of what I’m sure is very warm and delectable milk.” Wanda slowly turns you around with her magic as she asks this. Her walk slow and seductive towards you, and its then you realize what she’s really asking.
“Oh,”
“Oh, indeed.” Wanda says amused. She’s in front of you now and she’s looking at you like she’s going to eat you whole. Her magic holding you still, she slowly waves her fingers and moves your hands behind your back. “So? Is that a yes? Would you like my help with that ache of yours babygirl?” Your eyes widen a bit at Wanda’s sudden pet name and bold choice of words, heat flushes to your face from the question.
“I’ve never- we’ve never done that before, I didn’t think you would ever want to. Are you sure?” You ask unsure. The thought has come to you on occasion, but very fleeting. Sleep and the boys have taken up most of your time, and its been a while since you’ve been in the mood for anything sexual. Your pregnancy didn’t exactly make you want to have sex all the time. You felt a little bad, since you knew Wanda was always wanting your body, but she was so caring and never forced herself or tried to make you do anything you didn’t want. In fact she let you initiate most of it. So to say you both had been blue balled was an understatement. An image of Wanda’s mouth on you flashed through your mind and you suddenly realized how badly you missed her and needed her. You looked into Wanda’s eyes and saw her looking right back at you, and you realized she needed it too. She nodded and all you could do was say, “please.”
After that, Wanda couldn’t hold back anymore. It had been weeks since she last got to have you, and now she could finally taste a new part of you. With a flick of her wrist, her magic pressed you against the wall, your arms held behind your back, pressing your chest up more to her. All she could do was look at your breasts, bigger than usual from being full, and she licked her lips slightly at the sight. You still couldn’t move, not that you were complaining, although it would be nice to touch her after so long, you just watched her instead and waited for her to get closer to you.
She finally pressed her body against yours and you both sighed at the feeling, Wanda moved her mouth to your neck and placed small feather light kisses along your throat. You shivered and wanted so much more, but it was nice, the softness and intimacy you could feel coming from her. She wanted to treasure you. Wanda moved her hands to your waist, her hands slid along your sides slowly, up closer to your chest on your ribs, your breathing was increasing and Wanda basked in feeling your breathing quicken and your ribs expand. She could hear your pants against her ear as she kissed down your throat and she enjoyed having you at her mercy, unable to move or leave her hold.
“Wanda please.” You begged. Already impatient and not interested in any teasing. Wanda pulled back to look at you, dark eyes glimmered as they took in your appearance and smirked. She moved into you again until her mouth was pressed against your collarbone and slowly mouthed down to your chest, pausing to place a reverent kiss against the red tattoo there, and then continued to the opening of your robe. Her hands finally put themselves where they belonged and cupped your breasts as she kissed between them. You arched into her, letting out a moan as you felt her start to lightly massage them. Your breasts were tender, and as Wanda kept gently massaging them, milk started to ease out of your nipples. Wet spots started to form where your robe covered them, and Wanda watched with fascination as the spots grew darker and bigger the more she touched you.
“My poor baby. So tender and aching. You’ve been doing so much lately. Pregnancy, giving birth, taking care of the twins, not getting enough sleep, and having to feed them. I should be taking better care of you, cook you nice nutritious meals, take on more work with the boys so you can sleep, help alleviate your sore breasts.” As Wanda said this, she emphasized her words with the action of gripping your breasts more firmly, squeezing them a bit harder, and you nearly went on your toes to try and ease her grip. But you couldn’t, so you just stood there and whimpered in half pain and pleasure.
“Mommy please!” You finally said, and that seemed to move Wanda into motion. Her teasing smirk and gleaming eyes turned feral and dark, and her expression dropped into one with a women on a mission. With a wave of her hand, your robe practically tore in half as she parted it with her magic, she waved her hand again and soon after your hands were raised above your head and held to the wall. Your chest pushed out more and her gaze fixated on your freed breasts, they were so soft looking, so suckable to her, your milk was dripping down your stomach at this point and she couldn’t wait to lick it all up.
She took a step into you and cupped your breasts again, listening to you whimper, she moved her mouth closer and you held your breath. But instead of what you wanted, she lowered her head and went to your stomach, licking a trail up to your breast cleaning up every trace of milk that fell. Your stomach clenched and you jolted from the surprise, and Wanda adored the part of you that was a bit ticklish and made you more sensitive. As she cleaned every trace of milk, she looked you in the eye as she went to its source and finally placed her lips around your nipple.
“Oh god.” You groaned. You could feel as Wanda smirked against your nipple, her warm mouth wrapped around it as she pushed herself more into you. Her body completely molded itself against yours and her magic held you even tighter. Her lips became more firm, and a hot tongue soon came out to press against your nipple. She pressed the tip under it and gave a nice suck, and soon after milk was flowing into her mouth.
Groaning at tasting this new part of you, Wanda squeezed you tighter to her and continued to suck on your nipple. Her knee moved to between your legs and you arched into her, feeling warm liquid leave you and pleasure envelope your sensitive body. It felt so nice having Wanda drink from you, tasting you. And a more possessive side was rearing its head at finally having Wanda take this part of you and make it a part of her. You wanted her to drink this new essence of you and have it in her, to taste you and become addicted to it. It felt like this was the equivalent of having her drink your own cum, as perverted as it sounded, it made you all the more hot as she drank your milk, it made it all the more pleasurable.
Wanda was drinking from you like a woman starved, one hand was holding your breasts to her mouth and the other was trailing down your body to your hip. Her pinkie caressed the panties under it and soon that pinkie was sliding under the cloth and inching closer to your center. You were watching Wanda as she was attached to your chest and you were watching her when her eyes opened suddenly and they glowed from sea foam green to a burning red. Then your hands were released from her hold, but not your body, that didn’t stop you though from dropping your arms down to wrap them around her neck and tangle your fingers through her auburn hair. Pulling her even closer as if she wasn’t already as close as she could be, you pressed her more firmly against your breast and moaned when she rewarded you with a finger pressing against your clit.
“Babygirl you taste so good.” Wanda moaned against you. Wanda could almost feel how pleasurable it was for you, how your thoughts and feelings all gathered into one lovely erotic moment for you both. She could sense your desperation for her and more importantly, she was desperate for you, and for what has felt like the longest time, she could finally act on her need for you. Each time Wanda took a drink from you, she circled your clit. The pulses connecting between your nipple and the deep tug from your breasts as well as the the matching rhythm against your clit, was driving you wild, and soon you could feel yourself coming. Your body lost control of itself and started moving on its own. Wanda watched as you pressed your chest more into her and your hips stuttered against her hand. Your body was shaking and you closed your eyes with a silent scream and came so hard, even Wanda was bit taken aback, but didn’t hesitate to hold you and slowly ease you from your orgasm.
As you came down from wherever Wanda took you, you started to calm your breathing and realized your nails were gripping tightly into Wanda’s neck and back. With a sheepish smile you eased your hold and gently rubbed her new marks from you. Wanda merely smiled and kissed you sweetly.
“Did that hurt Wanda?” You asked.
“Not nearly enough darling.” Wanda said with a chuckle and smirked at your sweet, concerned face.
“Well if that’s the case.” Your face turned darker as you said this and Wanda was once again taken aback by your expression and was even more bamboozled when she was suddenly turned around and you were pinning her to the wall. Honestly, if you weren’t so turned on by her you would have laughed at her stunned face, but you had no time for that and went straight to just kissing her deeply, making an ‘mphm’ come out of Wanda’s captured mouth.
Your breasts were less sore now and you had no problem pressing your body against hers to keep her pinned against the wall. Wanda didn’t know what had come over you, she was so used to her always taking the lead or dominating, now it seems the roles were reversed. Wanda took this time to peek into your mind and was very intrigued by were you wanted to go with this, but more importantly, you seemed to need it, and that made Wanda need it too.
You’d gripped Wanda’s waist to control her body movement, and broke the kiss with a gasp, “Take off your clothes Wanda” you said. Wanda looked at you with a curious face, studying everything you were showing her. You face way determined and almost stern, no, more like you knew you were going to get what you wanted. Your voice was deep and breathless and honestly Wanda was really turned on by how aggressive you were being right now. Still looking at you, Wanda waved her hand and both your clothes were fully removed with a red flash. You breathed in deeply and took a good look at your wife. You may not of had an official wedding, but she was yours, and five months into your pregnancy, Wanda had made a ring for you both and you’d never taken it off. You looked at your wife and fully appreciated what was right in front of you. Wanda’s hips that you were gripping were full and soft, her red hair was in pretty waves going down her shoulders and her breasts, god her breasts were the most beautiful things you’d ever wanted to put in your mouth. They were what you fell asleep on every night and Wanda’s jade eyes were what you woke up to every morning. Wanda’s eyes were staring into yours when you were done appraising her, she was staying nice and still for you and you loved it. You didn’t know what was going on with you, but you felt a deep need to just take her. Everything in you was screaming to just take Wanda. Look at her, her lips were swollen from drinking your breast milk, from your kiss. Her pupils were blown wide and her eyes were saying ‘do what you want with me’ and so you did.
“I think you know what I want Wanda.” You said with a rasp in your voice. Wanda’s eyes flashed red from pure arousal alone. They way you were looking and speaking to her was making her lose it, and she didn’t need to read your mind to know what you were asking for. With a shaky nod from her and a wave of her hand, red magic covered between your legs and soon you felt a new appendage there. Wanda sunk to her knees and you stood there while she looked up at you and waited for you to tell her what to do. You felt a rush run through you and you wanted to feel more of it. Wanda was being such a good little thing submitting for you without you having to even tell her.
Wanda watched the way your eyes grew darker and your expression became pleased, she watched as you sorted through your emotions and waited for you to decide what you wanted next. She wouldn’t lie if you asked her if she liked this. She loved it. She loved being your mommy, but she finally understood why you loved submitting to her as well. The feeling she got when she sank to her knees for you, was something she felt deep in her chest. She could feel your satisfaction from her actions and it made her almost want to cum. This new feeling was beyond her, but she wanted to feel more.
As you looked at your darling wife, you could feel your cock pulse for her. “Be my good wife and milk me some more darling.” You growled, you waited for Wanda to listen and nearly buckled at the knee when Wanda took her hand, gently took hold of your strap, and placed her lips on the tip. Wanda kept eye contact as she tasted you like this for the first time. Her fucking beautiful mouth slowly wrapped around your cock and as she held it with her hand, put her other hand against your thigh to lift more up on her knees so she could lean more into you and support herself.
You let out a guttural moan as you looked down at her, her warm mouth and hot, wet tongue slid itself along your strap and for gods sake it was the hottest sight and hottest feeling. It was just as pleasurable as it was for your pussy, just different, and that different feeling elevated everything that was happening. To feel Wanda surround herself like this around you was making you feral and goddammit you couldn’t handle it anymore, you needed more, you needed to do something.
That something was to tangle your fingers in those red luscious locks and trust your hips against her while you held her still. Wanda took it with grace, opening her mouth wider and sliding her mouth along your cock until it touched the back of her throat. She gagged a little but was fine after that when you just kept thrusting. Wanda breathed through her nose and watched your face as you lost yourself in her. This was almost just as pleasurable for her as it was for you. She soon grew to love this side of you, love this feeling of taking another part of you in her mouth, and now she wanted to taste another form of cum from you.
You were getting close, you looked down at Wanda and groaned at the site of her on her knees, her cheeks hollowed for your cock, and drool dripping down from her chin with how much she was getting into sucking you. She was doing all the right things and even though you knew she was struggling to catch her breath, that made it all the better and the more perverted side of you loved it. You gripped her head tighter and thrusted faster as Wanda knelt there and let you use her. You needed something, one last thing, you just didn’t know what that was, until Wanda, sensing you were close, meaning she could taste your cum sooner, moaned against your cock and the rest was left for hell to deal with.
The sound you made as you came was blush worthy and the slapping came to a halt, and you made one last thrust as shoved your cock as far as you could down her throat and came. Wanda gripped your hips and pressed closer against you, doing her best to make sure every last drop of cum would go down her throat. You felt her throat and tongue move against your cock and actually heard her gulp a little as she drank everything from you. You didn’t realize it, but do to the heightened feelings and how long its been since Wanda got to last taste you, when the first drop of cum hit her throat and she heard you cum, she came with you. Her pussy clenched around nothing but she didn’t need anything, your pleasure and taste was all she needed and she came with clenched eyes and a long moan around you.
“There’s a good girl, god Wanda you feel so good.” You whispered as you slowly caressed her hair and you both calmed down. You were both finished so you gently pulled back and Wanda could finally relax her jaw and take some deep breaths. She hunched over a bit and this made you worried as you knew you were rough with her and may have hurt her. You knelt down with her and held her face to have her look at you. “Darling? Are you alright?” You sounded so concerned.
“Im alright baby.” Wanda said as she looked up and smiled at you. You felt yourself relax a bit and rubbed your thumbs along her beautiful cheeks, remembering how hollow they looked with her mouth around you… you shook your head a bit and checked her over.
“You’re not hurt anywhere? Did I go to hard, could you not breathe?” You asked. Wanda simply smiled again and kissed you to settle your concerns. When she pulled back she looked you in the eyes so you knew she was being honest and reassured you again that she was perfectly fine.
“I quite enjoyed that darling, you were a good mix of rough but not too much.” She said.
“Okay good, I’m glad, that would have been not fun if that were the case, I don’t ever want to actually hurt you.” You said. Wanda looked happy and so were you. That made you even more happy considering this new dynamic between you had been both pleasurable and you hadn’t hurt her. Knowing she enjoyed this too made you excited for future scenarios, and that excitement made you remember you could physically show that excitement and looked down. “Um, so I know that I’m kinda hard right now, but I’m also really exhausted, but I also really want to make sure you’re satisfied too, so tell me what you need Wanda and i’ll do my best to help.” You nervously said.
Wanda chuckled and kissed you sweetly on the nose, she pulled back and pleasantly surprised you with her next words. “Actually, dear I already came with you, just when you did as a matter of fact.” Wanda smirked at you.
“Really?! That’s so exciting and I didn’t even know that could happen Wanda! God I was so overwhelmed I didn’t even realize. Was it alright? Do you want my help with another one?” You stuttered out. You were amazed at this and Wanda could tell you were also nervous a bit with the new things you had tried with her.
“Calm down my darling, I’m quite satisfied at the moment. Hearing you cum, feeling it, tasting it, that was all I needed and I’m pretty sure I came just as hard as you. Now, why don’t we get up and take ourselves to bed. I think were both exhausted after the boys and this lovely night was just what we needed.” Wanda waved her hand and suddenly you were both clean and clothed and you specifically were appendage free. Thank you magic.
“I think that sounds lovely Wanda, thank you for doing this with me and trusting me to have the control like this.” You both got up as you said this and you felt so good and relaxed. You looked at Wanda and pulled her gently to you. Your arms circled her waist and she wrapped her arms around your neck, you both stood there and leaned into each other, just breathing each other in. “I love you Wanda” you whispered against her lips.
“I love you darling” Wanda whispered back and softly kissed you. Amongst all that had happened, it seemed it was you two whispering that finally woke the two twin boys that you both had been blissfully having a break from. Crying was heard from up the stairs and you both laughed a little at the timing. Wanda grabbed your hand and started walking, pulling you along with her as you both walked up the stairs. You watched behind her as you both went up and into the boys room. The twins room was decorated with a mix of blue and greens and in the middle were two cradles holding both your precious treasures. You both went to a separate bed and picked up your sons. You had Billy and Wanda held Tommy.
“Shhh, mommy’s here Billy, and so is momma.” Wanda delicately whispered as she rubbed Billy’s back, you did the same for Tommy. You both gravitated towards each other, and it seemed that calmed down the boys, as their crying calmed and Tommy looked at you. He was the cutest thing, his brown eyes looking at you with curiosity and familiarity. It soothed your soul knowing these precious boys were yours and Wanda’s. You could see so much of her in him. You held him close to you as his eyes started to droop, then you looked at Billy. Him doing the same only fighting a little harder to stay awake and watch Wanda. You couldn’t blame him as you looked at her next. She was the most beautiful person you would ever see and you guess Billy thought the same. He was definitely going to be a momma’s boy. You smirked, you were already mommy’s girl. She looked at Billy with so much wonder and you knew you were right were you needed to be. With your family, that you’d made with the woman you loved, and your boys were happy and safe and together again.
Wanda looked at you and stepped closer, her smile so gentle and at peace, you would never get enough of seeing it. God you loved her. She swayed into you and you both adjusted to hold each other and the boys as they fell asleep safe in both of your arms. You didn’t know it yet, but this would be just one of many moments between you and your family. Wanda had done something she never imagined. She’d found you and made her family whole again. All that suffering. All the pain and fighting to get her loved ones back. And yet, all she needed was you and it all fell perfectly into place. You were at first just hers. What had started as her in your mind, became her having your heart, and then she became yours. You belonged to each other and were equal, partners through everything and you both could finally just, relax.
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spideyhexx · 3 months
Note
billy himself better do an apology with tears right NOW!!!! or he'll regret it
he really should!!!!!!! :)
fem!reader; apart of saccharine
The next few days that follow this are very confusing for Billy. You avoid him like the plague, almost as if he's a ghost that's unseen to you. You've come to terms that you pushed him too far, but you were too stubborn to approach him first. So you ignore him.
He called you a pest. His words replay and your mind is smart enough to recognize that he snapped and spat out words without realizing, but that never disregarded how much it hurt.
Billy went through multiple different stages since he snapped at you. He felt bad at first, then later at night, the thought that you deserved to be put in your place crossed his mind, but he hated himself for it, so he wrote it off. After getting a good night's rest, his mind clearer, Billy assumed the day would go on like normal and you would tease him like normal.
He was looking around his vicinity the whole day, wondering where the hell you were and why you weren't trailing around him. A missing place was next to him and it followed him around like an invisible ghost. Billy doesn't realize you're ignoring him until dinner that night when he walks right up next to you to make his plate and you don't give him a glance. No look, no smile, no twinkle in your eye. You gather your own food and turn heel to find a place to sit.
He's nonexistent to you. His stomach builds up with nerves as this continues, his fingers anxious, fiddling with the sleeve of his shirt and picking at the old leather of his belt as he watches you converse with Jesse and the other boys. Is he actually longing for your sweet voice? The way your lips curve in the most devious of smiles when his brow furrows or his jaw clenches, knowing you've got him angry.
Billy pays attention to you that night, how you pick apart your bread and eat it in small increments. The way your men's shirt is half untucked and the glint in your eye when you near the campfire. That glint. He wanted it directed at him. Did he? Yes. No. He doesn't know anymore.
The next day, Billy is mustering up the courage to apologize. The guilt within his body is at a high when he keeps thinking about how much he missed you. He knew he couldn't say that to you, but an apology should be enough, right? He regrets his words. You may bother him a lot but he crossed a line and Billy is not proud of it. He tries to speak with you after dinner, but you're going to your cot to sleep the moment he decides to get up. His muscles freeze. He feels the lump in his throat. He gives up. He thinks himself a coward. Billy has pushed himself to do some scary things in his life, but he can't even approach you with an apology. It was pathetic, to him.
Billy can't sleep that night. He doesn't think he can speak to you. He knows he should, but what if he just can't? He lays out in the grass instead of his cot, staring up at the stars and the moon as he racks his brain for something he can do so you stop ignoring him. The grass is cool, tickling at the back of his neck as though its tendrils trying to attach to him, give him the guidance he needs in this moment. He reads the stars, asking them silently if there is any way to remedy the situation. Billy can't take it, even if his thoughts reject the fact that he wants you, his subconscious was all for it, rooting for it. Right before his eyes got too heavy to stay awake, there was a click in his brain.
Your day runs smoothly, avoiding Billy was a hard task as you felt yourself itching to just give in and confront him about the whole situation, but the fact that he hasn't spoken a word to you either made you bitter. You miss him still, so you let yourself watch him occasionally when he gets on his horse and rides off, but for the most part, you focus your attention elsewhere. To people who do like you.
As you wind down for the evening and head back to your cot, there's a small bag near your pillow and a piece of paper tucked beneath it. With a cautious step, you sit down and take the paper in your hands.
"I'm sorry for what I said. It wasn't right. You're not a pest. Maybe a pain in my ass sometimes, but that's okay. I promise. I know this might not be enough to say and what I bought might not be enough, but it's for you. It's not a way to bribe you for your forgiveness either. You don't need to forgive me. This is just for you. Thought you'd get a kick out of it. Figured you needed one of your own, cowgirl."
Your eyes quickly scramble to where it ends with, "Bonney," his sloppy handwriting that looks rushed makes your own head feel in a rush, rereading his words two or three more times before you set the paper down and open the bag.
It's a hat, a genuine cowboy hat. A dark color akin to Billy's own hat, but still different, still unique for you. You think about how this must have cost him a good deal of money, but it's hard to think about that when your heart is swelling abnormally large. How many times had you mentioned to him how badly you wanted your own hat? How you never had the funds to buy one for yourself and when you did have the money to, it was always going to more important purchases. He was actually listening?
You feel yourself smiling, not able to stop it as you place the hat on your head, the fir near perfect and your hands find the note he wrote. You reread it and then fold it neatly, tucking it beneath your pillow with a soft sigh, the airiest of grins plastered to your face for the rest of the night to come.
let's chat about billy, here :)
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*Post-Practice Cool Down–Steve Harrington
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Warnings: unprotected sex, shower sex, rough/kinky sex, language
Billy Hargrove came to Hawkins and immediately tried to take over. The girls loved him and the guys hated him. From the second he met Steve, he made it his life mission to get in his head. And he had two ways to do this; through basketball and me.
We've been friends since kindergarten after Steve stood up for me when Tommy kept pulling my pigtails. During freshman year, my crush finally asked me out. I was so excited but after two dates, I caught him making out with another girl.
I was so heartbroken I ran home from school that day. A little later, Steve came climbing through my window. He sat with me all night and kept saying what a douche the guy was and that I deserved better. I fell asleep in his arms. Right as I fell asleep, I heard him whisper that he loved me.
The next day at school I was awkward and nervous around him. He asked me at lunch what was going on and I couldn't tell him. He dragged me to the baseball field and we sat down on the bleachers. He pushed me to tell him what was wrong.
                              ~•~
"Come on, Y/N," Steve sighed as he grabbed my hand. "You gotta talk to me. I'm your best friend. I know when something's wrong."
"I heard you," I whispered.
"What are you talking about?"
"After Luke cheated on me, you came over," I started to recount. "You stayed with me all night and. . . Right before I fell asleep, I heard you whisper something."
"Oh," Steve mumbled, catching on. I felt him readjust his grip on my hand.
"It's okay," I said quickly. Steve looked at me, instantly studying me.
"It is?"
"Yeah," I shrugged. "Because I. . . I mean we've. . . I do."
"You do?" Steve asked, scooting closer to me.
"I do," I whispered. I gasped when Steve leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. Smiling, I slowly started kissing him back. We got lost in the kiss. The only thing that brought us out of it was the bell ringing.
                              ~•~
Ever since Billy came to town, Steve's been kind of tense. He's been almost defensive. No matter what I do, nothing seems to help.
I sat and watched the boys play basketball, cringing when Steve slowly started getting frustrated. He kept making eye contact with me. Whenever he did, his eyes softened. But then Billy would say something and Steve would get angry all over again.
I jumped when Billy pushed Steve to the ground. I sat at the edge of my seat when Billy went to help Steve up. He whispered something before roughly pushing him back down. Steve was fuming as he went to the boy's locker room.
I waited for Steve but he was taking longer than normal. When everyone else had gone home, Steve still hadn't come out. Sighing, I grabbed my backpack and headed into the locker room. I could hear the water running.
"You know something, Harrington?" Billy laughed. I peeked around the corner to see Billy turning off Steve's shower. "I gotta give you some props. That girl of yours? Y/N? She's pretty sexy. Sexier than you, that's for sure. She's too good for you. Maybe I should. . ."
"If you go anywhere near my Y/N," Steve started to threaten.
"You know, if she ever wants someone to show her a real good time, have her give me a call."
Billy smirked before leaving the showers. I tucked into a stall as Billy got dressed and left. When he was gone, I finally snuck out. I walked around to the showers and saw Steve angrily hit his shower head and turn it back on. I bit my lip, unable to stop myself from looking over my boyfriend's wet body.
I found his locker and slowly took off my shirt and jeans. Still in my underwear, I walked back to the showers. I double-checked that we were alone before walking into the showers.
"You're wasting water."
Steve turned around, unable to stop himself from checking me out as I slipped out of my underwear. "What are you doing here?" He panicked, quickly turning off the water. "Y/N, this is the boy's shower."
"Exactly," I giggled as I reached up to take off my bra. Steve chewed on his bottom lip as he watched me unhook it in the front.
"Baby," he stuttered. "What if. . ."
"No one else is here," I said softly as I stepped towards him. I smirked as I grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at my eyes, not my breasts. "You're all hot, baby. You need to cool down."
Steve moaned as I grabbed his shoulders and lifted my leg. He bit his lip as he grabbed my leg, pulling me closer to him.
"Everyone left a long time ago," I whispered.
"Good," Steve grunted as he pushed me up against the wall. He instantly attached his lips to mine.
Our lips moved messily in sync as we pulled our bodies close together. Soon, we were grinding in our usual rough and smooth rhythm. Steve squeezed my thigh, pulling me closer as he pushed into me. I broke the kiss and moaned as he started thrusting in and out of me.
Steve leaned down and pressed his face between my breasts. I swore under my breath as he played hockey with his tongue and my nipple.
"Oh baby," I moaned loudly.
Steve broke the kiss and roughly pulled out of me. He turned me around and pushed me up against the wall. My hands were pressed against the shower wall as Steve lined himself up.
"Fuck, baby girl," he swore as he pushed into me.
I leaned back against him as he snuck his hands around my body. He slid his hands up my stomach until he found my breasts. He squeezed them as he pulsed in and out of me. Steve slowly pulled out of me, making me gasp in pain.
"Sorry, baby," he whispered. "You know I can't control myself around you. It takes everything in me not to take you to the bathroom and devour you every day I see you."
I turned around and wrapped my arms around his neck. "I don't mind you being rough with me," I whispered. "It makes me feel sexy."
"Good," he groaned. "Because you are, baby girl. You're my sexy little kitty cat."
"And your my protective big dog," I whispered standing on my toes, purposefully pushing my body against his.
"Fuck yeah I am," he said darkly.
"Stevie?"
"Yes, baby girl?"
"Turn the water back on."
"Yes ma'am," he moaned.
I gasped, arching my back when he pushed into me as he leaned over and turned on the water. We let out surprised gasps that turned into lust-filled laughs as the water washed over us.
Steve looked into my eyes and smirked. He pushed me back against the shower, making me choke on my moan. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer to me.
He looked directly into my eyes as he pushed into me. I grabbed his face and brought his lips down to mine. Our lips instantly started moving roughly in sync as he began thrusting into me.
"Come on, baby," he moaned against my lips. "Release for me."
"Not yet."
Steve groaned in protest as started to speed up his movements. I finally broke the kiss and leaned my head back against the shower pole as I arched my back. He leaned down and started sucking on my neck without skipping a beat.
He reached down and grabbed my thigh, wrapping it around his waist. He then grabbed my other thigh. He gripped my thighs tightly as he picked me up. His movements officially reached the roughest he's ever gotten with me. That's when I released.
We both let out small whines as Steve pulled out of me and put me back on my feet. I kept my arms wrapped around him and his body pressed to mine. We looked into each other's eyes as we caught our breaths and came down from our highs.
Steve leaned down and pressed his lips gently to mine. When he broke the kiss, he took a small step away from me. He grabbed my hands, gently squeezing them. Steve let go of my hand, and with the one he was still holding, he led me out of the showers.
I smiled when Steve handed me a towel. I stood on my toes and kissed him as I grabbed it. I wrapped the towel around my body and started walking back to Steve's locker. We got dressed, sharing cheeky glances.
Once we were dressed, Steve grabbed my hand and we walked out of the school together. We got into his car but he didn't drive away. I looked over to see him lost in thought.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," he said softly. He looked over at me, his eyes softening. "I want to make sure you know how much this meant to me."
"Sneaking into the boy's showers and having unprotected sex with my boyfriend?" I teased.
"No," he sighed, reaching over and grabbing my hand. "For standing by my side. I know I have this weird fued with Billy going on. He just. . . He keeps getting under my skin and it irritates the living hell out of me. I just want to. . ."
"Steve," I gently cut him off.
"Sorry," he chuckled. "What I was trying to say is you've stood by me. You've been on my side. You've calmed me down. And not just by sleeping with me. Sure, sometimes you simply kiss me and I calm down. Or you grab my hand. Or you physically pull me away. Whatever you do, it always works. It's nice having someone on my side."
"I will always be on your side, Steve."
"I know," he smiled. "That's why I love you."
I leaned over the console and pressed my lips to his. I felt him smile as he kissed me back. We broke the kiss before we could get too into this kiss.
"I love you too, Stevie," I whispered. "And I promise, I'll always be here for you."
"Good," Steve said softly. "Because I don't want you anywhere but right next to me."
"I don't plan on being anywhere else."
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ncwhereman · 8 months
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spanish holiday: a collection
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Let me ask you about something else that was in the Hunter Davies book. At one point you and Brian went off to Spain. Yes. Did you… you must have... We didn’t have an affair. You never had an affair with Brian? No, not an affair. Yoko: [laughs] What were the pressures from Brian? Cyn was having a baby and the holiday was planned, but I wasn’t going to break the holiday for a baby and that’s what a bastard I was. And I just went on holiday. I watched Brian picking up the boys. I like playing a bit faggy, all that. Yoko: [laughs] It was enjoyable, but there were big rumours in Liverpool, it was terrible. Very embarrassing. Rumors about you and Brian? Oh, fuck knows—yes, yes. I was pretty close to Brian because if somebody's going to manage me, I want to know them inside out. And there was a period when he told me he was a fag and all that. I introduced him to pills, which gives me a guilt association for his death. I mean they go that way anyway. And to make him talk—to find out what he’s like. And I remember him saying, “Don’t ever throw it back in me face, that I’m a fag.” Which | didn’t. But his mother’s still hiding that. But what I hate is the way they’re all attacking Allen. And Brian was a nice guy, but he knew what he was doing, he robbed us. He fucking took all the money and looked after himself and his family, and all that. And it’s just a myth. I hate the way that Allen is attacked and Brian is made like an angel, just cause he’s dead. He wasn't, he was just a guy. Allen will go berserk when he hears all this.
John Lennon, Jann S. Wenner, Lennon Remembers, 1970
Bob had insinuated that me and Brian had had an affair in Spain. And I must have been frightened of the fag in me to get so angry.
John Lennon, 1972, Peter McCabe and Robert D Schonfeld, John Lennon—For The Record, 1984
Brian was in love with me. It's irrelevant. I mean, it's interesting and it will make a nice Hollywood Babylon someday about Brian Epstein’s sex life, but it's irrelevant, absolutely irrelevant.
John Lennon, Playboy, 1980
I was on holiday with Brian Epstein in Spain, where the rumours went around that he and I were having a love affair. Well, it was almost a love affair, but not quite. It was never consummated. But it was a pretty intense relationship. It was my first experience with a homosexual that I was conscious was homosexual. He had admitted it to me. We had this holiday together because Cyn was pregnant, and I went to Spain and there were lots of funny stories. We used to sit in a cafe in Torremolinos looking at all the boys and I’d say, ‘Do you like that one, do you like this one?’ I was rather enjoying the experience, thinking like a writer all the time: I am experiencing this, you know. And while he was out on the tiles one night, or lying asleep with a hangover one afternoon, I remember playing him the song Bad To Me. That was a commissioned song, done for Billy J Kramer, who was another of Brian’s singers.
John Lennon, Rolling Stone, 1980
Very quickly John became jumpy and on edge. He was beginning to feel trapped and it was time for him to escape but before he left he told me that Brian had asked him to go on holiday to Spain with him and he wanted to know if I objected. I must admit the request hit me like a bolt out of the blue and I really didn’t take it in properly at first but when it sank in I suppressed my true feelings and acquiesced. I was well aware that John deserved a holiday. He had just completed a tour and recording sessions. In actual fact he had never really had a holiday as such. They had all been working very hard and under great pressure since the success of Please Please Me, so I concealed my hurt and envy and gave him my blessings. He was delighted and left me a happy man. I on the other hand was left holding the baby, and what a baby. As soon as John returned from his break in Spain, fully relaxed and raring to get going again, we went together to register our son’s birth.
Cynthia Lennon, A Twist Of Lennon, 1978
Some accounts of that time claim that Brian was in love with John, which was why he wanted to manage the Beatles. I don't believe this for a second. They had a good relationship, but Brian cared for all the boys and he wanted success for the group because he thought they had something unique. Claims have been made since that Brian and John had a gay relationship. Nothing could be further from the truth. John was a hundred per cent heterosexual and, like most lads at that time, horrified by the idea of homosexuality. The bond between John and Brian was one of mutual respect and friendship. They liked and admired each other. Brian could see John's intelligence and distinctive talent. John appreciated Brian's business ability and his ambition for the group. They talked for hours and planned the group's future together. They both wanted the Beatles to be the biggest thing since Elvis, and were hell bent on making it happen.
When Julian was three weeks old, Brian invited John to go to Spain with him. John asked if I'd mind and I said, truthfully, that I wouldn't. I was preoccupied with Julian and nowhere near ready to travel, but I knew how much John needed a break where he wouldn't be recognised and could really relax. I gave them my blessing and they went off together for twelve days. It was a holiday John came to regret because it sparked off a string of rumours about his relationship with Brian. He had to put up with sly digs, winks and innuendo that he was secretly gay. It infuriated him: all he'd wanted was a break with a friend, but it was turned into so much more.
Cynthia Lennon, John, 2005
Brian and John spent so much time together, scheming and dreaming about the Beatles' future, that they seemed almost inseparable. In April 1963, John went so far as to accompany Brian on a holiday in Spain, leaving Cyn behind with their newborn son. In the absence of this decidedly odd couple, tongues began wagging all over town. I visited John at Aunt Mimi's a few days after his return to England. And when he started in about how much he had enjoyed Spain, I could hardly resist taking the piss out of him. "So you had a good time with Brian, then?" I smirked. Nudge nudge, wink wink. I was somewhat taken aback when John didn't so much as crack a smile. "Oh, fuckin' hell," he groaned. "Not you as well, Pete!" "What do you mean, not me as well?" "They're all fucking going on about it." "It's O.K., John. Don't take it so serious. I'm just joking, for Christ's sake." "Actually Pete," he said softly, "Something did happen with him one night." Now that wiped the grin right off my face. Had I even dreamed there might be any truth what soever to the rumors, I would never have made light of the subject in the first place. Still— as John surely knew— I would have stood by him, and let the rest of the world handle the business of passing moral judgment, even if he had just told me he'd committed murder. And John would surely have done the same for me. Which, after all, is what true friendship is all about. "What happened," John explained, "is that Eppy just kept on and on at me. Until one night I finally just pulled me trousers down and said to him: 'Oh, for Christ's sake, Brian, just stick it up me fucking arse then.' "And he said to me, 'Actually, John, I don't do that kind of thing. That's not what I like to do.' "'Well,' I said, 'what is it you want to do, then?' "And he said, 'I'd really just like to touch you, John.' "And so I let him toss me off." And that was that. End of story. "That's all, John?" I said. "Well, so what? What's the big fucking deal, then?" "Yeah, so fucking what! The poor bastard. He's having a fucking hard enough time anyway." This was in reference to the "butch" dockers who, on several recent occasions, had rewarded Brian's advances by beating him to a bloody pulp. "So what harm did it do, then, Pete, for fuck's sake?" John asked rhetorically. "No harm at all. The poor fucking bastard, he can't help the way he is." "No need to get so worked up," I said. "You know I don't give a shit. What's a fucking wank between friends anyway?" We then moved on to other topics, and neither of us ever mentioned the incident again. (And as far as I was concerned, the real revelation that night was not that John had "had it off" with Brian, but that he had demonstrated— albeit in his own brusque way—such genuine compassion for that most hopelessly besotted of all his many admirers.) Unfortunately, certain Liverpool acquaintances (who had no way of knowing that there was a kernel of truth to their allegations) wouldn't let John hear the end of it. All in good fun, no doubt, but John was still too enamored of his macho self-image to take lightly any inference that he was anything less than 100 percent heterosexual.
Pete Shotton, Nicholas Schaffner, John Lennon: In My Life, 1983
John told me he had had a one-night stand with Brian, on a holiday with him in Spain, when Brian had invited him out, a few days after the birth of Julian in 1963, leaving Cyn alone. I mentioned this brief holiday in the book, but not what John had alleged had taken place. Partly, I didn't really believe it, though John was daft enough to try almost anything once. John was certainly not homosexual, and this boast, or lie, would have given the wrong impression. It was also not fair on Cynthia, his then wife.
Hunter Davies, The Beatles: The Authorised Biography (updated edition, 2010)
Almost three weeks after the birth of his son—whom he had seen only a couple of times by then—he agreed to go to Spain with Brian on a private holiday, while the other three Beatles flew to the Canaries for their spring break. I don’t think John told Cynthia what he was doing—he rarely told her anything—and he certainly wouldn’t have asked her permission. When she found out, she dissolved in tears, but she was scared of John and said nothing. To say we were astonished is an understatement. Much has been made of this trip. It was sun, sand and sea—but was it also sex? John himself said he finally allowed Brian to make love to him “to get it out of the way.” Those who knew John well, who had known him for years, don’t believe it for a moment. John was aggressively heterosexual and had never given a hint that he was anything but. If it had been George, we might have believed it. George could act camp and had many homosexual friends, but John loved to say things to shock, and his sly statement was probably just another in a long line of such provocative statements. In fact, it was more in character for John to taunt Brian with promises during those long hot nights in Barcelona than to succumb. Equally, it was in Brian’s masochistic nature to enjoy being tormented, then perhaps to rush off in search of a young bullfighter. Brian adored bullfighters so much, he ended up sponsoring one. (And I think Brian would have confided in somebody if it had happened.)
Tony Bramwell, Magical Mystery Tours: My Life With The Beatles, 2014
First, he wanted to make Brian the baby’s godfather. Second, he was leaving on holiday as soon as this tour was over. He was going away with Brian—just the two of them. The other Beatles were going to the Canary Islands. This meant John wouldn’t see Cynthia for several weeks, long after she had returned home from the hospital. Cynthia lay back in the hospital bed, her head spinning. How could John go off and leave her and Julian like that, she demanded, and with Brian Epstein no less? John flared up at her. “Being selfish again, aren’t you?” he said. “I’ve been workin’ my bloody ass off on one-night stands for months now. Those people starin’ from the other side of the glass are bloody everywhere, hauntin’ me. I deserve a vacation. And anyway, Brian wants me to go, and I owe it to the poor guy. Who else does he have to go away with?” Brian and John went to Barcelona at the end of April 1963. It was a city that Brian had explored on his 1959 solo trip to Spain. He had since become a great fan of the bullfights and considered himself something of an aficionado. He took great pleasure in introducing John to the pageantry and excitement. They spent the days shopping and taking side trips. At night they toured the nightclubs. Later in the week they rented a car and drove down the coast to the glistening white town of Sitges on the Costa Brava. Each night they would sit in the candlelit cafés and watch the couples stroll by in the moonlight. Over many bottles of wine they talked candidly about Brian’s personal life. It was a great relief for Brian to finally be able to talk honestly with John. He told John that for a man who valued honesty as dearly as he did, it was a terrible burden for him to live his life a lie. “If you had a choice, Eppy,” John said, “if you could press a button and be hetero, would you do it?” Brian thought for a moment. “Strangely, no,” he said. A little later a peculiar game developed. John would point out some passing man to Brian, and Brian would explain to him what it was about the fellow that he found attractive or unattractive. “I was rather enjoying the experience,” John said, “thinking like a writer all the time: I am experiencing this.” And still later, back in their hotel suite, drunk and sleepy from the sweet Spanish wine, Brian and John undressed in silence. “It’s okay, Eppy,” John said, and lay down on his bed. Brian would have liked to have hugged him, but he was afraid. Instead, John lay there, tentative and still, and Brian fulfilled the fantasies he was so sure would bring him contentment, only to awake the next morning as hollow as before.
Peter Brown, The Love You Make, 1983 can't wait for the full fic on ao3 peter!
One story the Press certainly didn’t get at the time was that in April, in the middle of the euphoria that followed all the early success and acclaim, Brian and John went off to Spain for a holiday. So much invention and rubbish has been made of this trip by so many people since, that the truth deserves at least a brief mention. The most sensational version, of course, is that the holiday was a chance for Brian to consummate his overwhelming passion for John, which inspired him to sign the group in the first place. I’m afraid it wasn’t like that. John roared with laughter at the rumours that began afterwards. Typically, he encouraged the stories that he and Brian were gay lovers because he thought it was funny and John was one of the world’s great wind-up merchants. He told me afterwards in one of our frankest heart-to-hearts that Brian never seriously did proposition him. He had teased Brian about the young men he kept gazing at and the odd ones who had found their way to his room. Brian had joked to John about the women who hurled themselves at him. ‘If he’d asked me, I probably would have done anything he wanted. I was so much in awe of Brian then I’d have tried a night of vice-versa. But he never wanted me like that. Sure, I took the mickey a bit and pretended to lead him on. But we both knew we were joking. He wanted a pal he could have a laugh with and someone he could teach about life. I thought his bum boys were creeps and Brian knew that. Even completely out of my head, I couldn’t shag a bloke. And I certainly couldn’t lie there and let one shag me. Even a nice guy like Brian. To be honest, the thought of it turns me over.’ All the same, John was very selfish to have gone off on holiday with Brian then because it was just after Cynthia had given birth to his son Julian. John’s whole romance and marriage to Cynthia was kept a secret at the time because Brian feared the effect of publicity about one of the Beatles having a wife, let alone a family.
Alistair Taylor, With The Beatles, 2003
While Brian thought a Beatle’s image could be affected by marriage and fatherhood, his next move proved wildly indiscreet and potentially dangerous. On April 8, 1963, Cynthia gave birth to Julian, and Brian was named his godfather. Shortly afterward, Brian invited John to join him alone on a holiday in Spain. Lennon had been working hard, writing songs and touring Britain. He needed a rest, and Cynthia relished some time alone to adapt to life with a baby. John accepted and flew to Barcelona on April 28 for the twelve-day break. John made it clear to everyone that he was a woman-chaser, a hundred percent heterosexual. But it was inept of Epstein to risk the whispering that was bound to ensue from such an expedition by a manager and a solitary Beatle. It was one of the few times when Brian’s perception of public opinion faltered, for the Spanish trip fueled rumors in Liverpool of an Epstein-Lennon relationship. Paul McCartney’s theory is that “John, not being stupid, saw his opportunity to impress upon Mr. Epstein who was the boss of this group … he wanted Brian to know who he should listen to.” Lennon knew that Brian held him in awe, regarding him as a genius. On their return to Liverpool, Brian and John decided to deal with the gossip decisively. At McCartney’s twenty-first birthday party on June 18, Bob Wooler and Lennon were seen chatting together and within minutes the Beatle had pummeled the Cavern compere to the ground. “He called me a bloody queer, so I bashed his ribs in,” John later told Cynthia. Epstein, no less angry but sensing the need for repairing all wounds, physical and oral, drove Wooler to hospital for treatment of torn knuckles and for shock. Next, Epstein moved swiftly to prevent the friction from escalating. Through his solicitor friend Rex Makin he paid Wooler £200 in damages and insisted that Lennon sent him a telegram of apology. The rumors were quelled. But nothing could prevent the attack on Wooler from reaching the Daily Mirror, whose pop reporter Don Short, in a first recognition of the group’s burgeoning importance, published a back-page story headlined: “Beatle in Brawl Says: Sorry I Socked You.” Since the deaths of Epstein and Lennon, many with no access to, or observation of, both men in their lifetime have peddled the assumption that Brian and John had a sexual liaison. This is despite the lack of any evidence, despite firm declarations of John’s heterosexuality from Cynthia and many other women, and despite the statement by McCartney that he “slept in a million hotel rooms, as we all did, with John and there was never any hint that he was gay.” Brian possibly had a homosexual fascination for Lennon but it could never be reciprocated. And since Epstein was not a predator, that eliminated the likelihood of such a link. More than anyone, Epstein saw the Beatles as an indivisible unit. He would never have risked so profoundly changing his relationship with them, individually or collectively. Nothing mattered more to Brian, after his devotion to his family, than the entity of the Beatles.
Ray Coleman, The Man Who Made The Beatles, 1989
Years later, John finally came clean about what had happened: not to anyone who’d been around at the time, but to the unshockable woman with whom he shared the last decade of his life. He said that one night during the trip, Brian had cast aside shyness and scruples and finally come on to him, but that he’d replied, “If you feel like that, go out and find a hustler.” Afterward, he had deliberately fed Pete Shotton the myth of his brief surrender, so that everyone would believe his power over Brian to be absolute.
Norman Philip, John Lennon: The Life, 2008
I don’t actually know the truth of the John rumour. I suspected that the John trip to Barcelona was a power play on John’s part because John was a very political animal. I think John went away on that Spanish holiday because nobody went on holiday. I would have gone, anyone would have gone. A free holiday? You’re kidding. I’m there. Number two, I’m sure John took Brian aside and said, ‘Hey, you want to deal with this group, I’m the guy you deal with, OK.’ John was that kind of guy. He was a very sensible, very pragmatic guy. So I’m sure that was the main reason John went there. As to whether there was any sort of gay dalliance or whatever, I don’t know. All I can ever say about it is that I slept with John a lot because you had to, you didn’t have more than one bed – and to my knowledge John was never gay.
Paul McCartney, Debbie Geller, In My Life: The Brian Epstein Story, 2000
Brian Epstein was going on holiday to Spain at the same time and he invited John along. John was a smart cookie. Brian was gay, and John saw his opportunity to impress upon Mr Epstein who was the boss of this group. | think that's why he went on holiday with Brian. And good luck to him, too — he was that kind of guy; he wanted Brian to know whom he should listen to. That was the relationship. John was very much the leader in that way, although it was never actually said. So there was the homosexual thing — I'm not sure John did anything but we certainly gave him a lot of grief when he got back.
Paul McCartney, The Beatles Anthology, 2000
My sense of the trip to Barcelona is that it was an intriguing situation because John left his wife to go on this holiday, who was still in hospital having given birth to her first child. So it was an extraordinary thing, but John wanted to go on holiday with Brian and there was a great bond between them. John knew that Brian was going and he also knew that Brian was very attracted to him and I think this intrigued John. My understanding only comes from Brian. I never discussed this with John but I heard that there were lots of discussions about the business of homosexuality and Brian’s homosexuality. But I think it’s wrong to discuss something which is really rather significant when I only know one side of the picture.
Peter Brown, Debbie Geller, In My Life: The Brian Epstein Story, 2000
It had nothing to do with advancement of career. John knew that he already had Brian as an ally; he knew that Brian liked him, was attracted to him and stimulated by his intellect. Anyway, I don’t believe John was that manipulative. And the idea of going along with it, and trying to take advantage of it, just wouldn’t have been Brian’s way.
Peter Brown, Norman Philip, John Lennon: The Life, 2008
It was during the same discussion that he told me that he and John Lennon had been lovers. Now that’s too much for me to take on. We’d never talked about his personal life before, so I left the room.
Lonnie Trimble, Debbie Geller, In My Life: The Brian Epstein Story, 2000
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bruciemilf · 2 years
Text
" You...Adopted...6 siblings?"
Diana nods, sunstream smile bright and golden on her lips. She proudly shows off pictures, too.
Three boys playing video games, one of them using his crutches to push the others away. " Freddy and Eugene love bothering Billy."
Another is Diana helping an adorable little cherub of a girl with outfits for her doll's world domination meeting. " Darla has such a rich imagination!"
Then there's her, helping a teenager with what looks to be her book report, as another boy serves them snacks. " Mary is a dedicated leader for her projects. Pedro enjoys cooking!"
" But...6?"
" I wasn't going to split them up! Families are strongest together! Billy wouldn't have accepted otherwise. He's a loyal, exceptional big brother. I couldn't ask for a better son."
Shazam blushes, to their confusion.
" And do they know about... You know. Mega hot Goddess guarding Earth thing, or are you just a regular milf?"
" Hal!"
" You all know what I'm about!"
" Not yet! I figure It'll come out at some point. But I enjoy being a parent. They've been a delight to have around. Parenthood is not the beast I expected."
Bruce laughs. Batman laughs. It's like watching something eerie and unnatural. Barry squints. " Am I...High? Did someone buy that brew that makes me spinny again?"
" You, - you think. This will be EASY."
Diana frowns, tilts her head like a confused puppy. " Well, yes. They've been very pleasant thus far. We haven't even argued, and they follow rules well, - "
Batman full on cackles now. Holding onto Superman's cape for support.
" I think they're very special! I'm sure they'll stay like this for longer than we all expect. They're very mature!"
They have to carry Batman away because he physically can't stand up. Diana doesn't particularly appreciate being laughed at, but the man's face deserves some happiness on it, so she'll take it.
Shazam approaches her after. " So, uh... Did you mean it? About - you know, those kids being..Good kids? Or something?"
" Of course! They're all unique and special in their own way. In fact, I have many examples of it. Billy allowed Darla to put him in a sparkly dress for the premiere of her movie and it is the sweetest act-"
" I got it! I got it," Shazam shuffles his fingers, looking younger than his massive height, asking for something that Diana recognizes but can't name,
" And... Just... You know - they're grateful for you. Even if they're going to be brats, or if they'll be angry and break rules and not listen to you...They appreciate you. A lot. I guess I just don't want you to regret them."
" I could never!" Diana is offended by the mere mention. " Children are people, and people will disappoint, and hurt. But they're so much more. I'll make mistakes, too. Hopefully I'll be mother enough to fix them."
" You are," Shazam tries to smile on his wobbly lips, before coughing around the emotion lumping his neck. " You're a great warrior. So you'll be a great mother."
" What's the difference?"
She doesn't know how Shazam figured out her favorite coffee mix, but she's grateful.
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weird-an · 9 months
Text
Billy wants to pick Max up and she's there again, chatting to him like he's one of her kid's friends. He doesn't know what to do with it, just listens. It's hard, because he's got a black eye and his temples throb.
"Oh, Billy, are you alright?"
Joyce Byers tries to hug him and Billy flinches so hard he knocks his elbow against the door frame. Tears sting in his eyes and he chews on his cheek to not groan from the pain and a hint of a memory, blonde hair and her hugging him after he picked up the shards from the floor.
Joyce's big eyes widen, but she doesn't say anything. Says goodbye with an awkward wave instead. The memory first feels like a little drop of water. It turns into a puddle. He sees a plate and thinks of her.
It's like Joyce invited her back, but she never really comes back. She is a memory, a ghost. Joyce Byers only invited Billy. To dinner, way too many times. Billy always says no. The black eye fades but she doesn’t
"What are you thinking about?" Steve asks him, a week later, when the memories feel like a river, nearly dragging him away. They are on Steve's bed, just hanging out. They aren't friends, they aren't anything. They kiss a lot and Billy might like it and dreams about it, but he shouldn't.
"Your dick," Billy says. Hears her softly scolding tone in his ear when he busted his knees skating again.
"Billy." Steve uses a different tone, has a different voice, but it's the same thing. Softly scolding. Billy doesn't deserve soft. Billy isn't made for softness. But he can't defend himself from it.
"My mom," Billy whispers. He stares at Steve's swimming trophies. "Because Mrs. Byers tried to hug me."
It sounds stupid. Billy doesn't really know Joyce Byers. He drives Max back and forth, only sees her at the door. He knows she isn't like Mrs. Wheeler and her friends. She doesn't touch him. Doesn't stare. She asks how Billy's day was.
"Oh," Steve says. He's silent for a while.
Billy can hear the ocean and her laughter. His eyes burn like the sun is shining too bright, like it did on their days at the beach, but what's left behind is only the salt of the ocean, shaped into tears.
"I miss her," Billy admits. He has never said it. Only felt it, let himself get torn apart by her absence. "She left, but I miss her."
Steve's hand strokes his hair. "What was she like?" he asks carefully.
"Kind," Billy chokes on the word. "Angry."
He remembers shouts and thuds, hiding in his room or watching, not daring to breathe. He remembers hugs and good night stories.
"I think Joyce is kind, too." Steve says after a while.
"Yeah." That's what Billy is afraid of. If he lets more kindness in his life, it will hurt more. Steve's is already too much on most days. But this isn't the thing he's afraid of most. It's that he wants that hug. To come in and sit at her table. He knows she isn't her. He doesn’t want her to be.
"My mom loved the beach," Billy hears himself say. Steve listens. "Neil hates it..."
The flood of memories doesn't stop. Billy feels it flowing out of him. Steve is a good swimmer. A good listener.
He holds Billy's hand. Billy tells him of her, so that he doesn't drown. It's easier that way.
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morganbritton132 · 1 year
Note
Do you think Eddie and Steve have ever fallen victim to the weird trend of people calling the police to ‘save’ famous people? Like some fans of his tiktok became convinced Steve was holding him hostage after making 2+2=5 when they googled up Billy’s name
This is such an interesting question because I could see it going both ways.
There are always going to be people that look at Eddie and see wanted posters. There are people who will never be convinced that he didn’t commit those murders, and they’re only ever going to see a victim in Steve because of it.
Steve is clumsy. He has a head injury and issues with balance, and sometimes he gets confused. Sometimes he gets bruised. He’s cut his hand in the middle of a seizure and needed stitches. He’s broken his ankle and walked on it for an entire day.
Sometimes nurses and doctors see his injury and see his medical history, and then they see the scruffy guy calling himself his husband, and they ask him to step outside the room. They ask Steve questions and it always takes him a second to realize what they’re trying to get at because domestic abuse is not something that he can attach to Eddie in any capacity.
And Steve will get angry about it. How dare they think such a thing? How could they look at Eddie and see how much love he holds in his heart and think that he would ever hurt Steve?
 
I think that Eddie is always going to have some fans that see Steve as this bad guy that does not deserve to be with him. There is nothing that he will ever do that can change that. They are just angry that Eddie is with someone other than them.
I can definitely see them hearing about all the bad shit that went down in Hawkins and seeing Steve’s connection to some of it – The coverup story for Starcourt paints Robin and Steve as two dedicated retail employees that saved a bunch of children from a fire – and then take that extra step to twist it into something so much worse.
The kid that went missing in Hawkins in 1983 just so happened to be the little brother of the guy that stole Steve’s high school girlfriend? That’s interesting. That’s suspicious.
And his high school bully (that he apparently hit with a car!) just so happened to die in a fire at his place of work? Weird.
And despite the fact that the police and an angry mob couldn’t find Eddie, Steve Harrington – a video rental employee – happened to find him?
You pair the horror story that was Hawkins in the eighties up with Eddie’s scars and all the off-hand jokes people have made on live-streams about Steve’s sleepwalking, or with Steve’s reactions to being scared and you can make a convincing case for anything.
Eddie ends a live-stream early one night at Steve’s request and then an hour later, they’re getting a knock on the door by two police officers doing a welfare check.
Steve and Eddie are obviously confused, and Steve is really disheartened when one of the officers lets it slip that the person calling was concerned because of a live-stream.
It puts a damper on the date night he’d set up for them in the living room and he doesn’t really want to continue it after the cops leave. Eddie tries to find the bright side of the situation, “Babe, it’s nothing. It’s not like it’ll be in the papers.”
“They think I hurt you,” Steve says. “They – your fans think that I would – that I’d ever – and they’re not wrong, technically. I have hurt you before.”
“And I nearly cut your throat with a broken glass bottle,” Eddie replies, ignoring the way Steve scoffs at him. “Anything that you’ve ever done because you were confused or lost in your head, or sleepwalking doesn’t count. You weren’t all here and it’s not your fault if you aren’t aware of what you’re doing, right? And anyways, I’m typically bothering you.”
“You’re blaming yourself for me hurting you?”
“No, I’m – No. I’m not,” Eddie clarifies. “I am saying that I don’t always come into the situation knowing what’s going on and sometimes I make it worse. Sure, I’ve gotten a bit of a hit. You kick in your sleep. But you have never hurt me.”
“Is it El’s fault when the cabinets rattle when she has a nightmare?” Eddie continues because it’s clear that Steve does not agree with him. “Or that time she got so scared that all the lightbulbs shattered? You got cut when that happened, remember? You have a scar. Is that her fault?”
“That’s different. She can’t-“
“And neither can you,” Eddie says. “I’m telling you now, Stevie. You know what my life was like before I moved in with Wayne. I will never be in a situation like that again. So, if I was than I would not be here, but I am here because you have never done anything to hurt me, okay?”
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manwrre · 7 months
Text
It’s bordering on two weeks since Hargrove’s arrival at Hawkins High, when Steve realizes he’s crushing on the guy. Like—‘doodling hearts in the margins of his books and racking up a list of things he likes about him’ type crushing.
They’ve barely interacted after that night at the party. Outside of social gatherings, they just run in different circles; Steve, filling his time with Robin and occasionally third-wheeling Nancy and Jonathan, while Billy hangs out with the more popular crowd.
Their schedules also don’t overlap despite the blonde taking a number of senior-level classes, with the exception of gym and lunch.
The list though, is still so painstakingly long. Ego-stroking-ly lengthy. Embarrassingly indulgent, all on his behalf.
Steve would much rather nosedive into the quarry, than divulge too deeply into it with anyone.
Especially around or to the guy’s actual face, at the risk of Billy’s head becoming too big for his body (even though Steve thinks he’d make an adorable bobble head). Or you know, worse— like him, getting absolutely brained in front of everyone.
Which must say a lot about him as a person because apparently, this is his type. Beautiful, angry, conceited boys.
Regardless, there are some objective mentions on his list though.
Things that the general public would agree on, like Billy’s Michelle-Pfeiffer curls; loose and wavy but so, so golden.
His eyes are a close second, of course because Steve’s seen a lot of bright blues but Billy’s remind him of the vacation he’d spent in Aruba, as a kid. Remind him of a horizon-kissed vastness and warm water lapping at his ankles on a private beach.
The public also agrees that Billy’s got a banging body. He’s thicker than most because he actually gives a shit and ‘works out religiously’ but it’s not all muscle. His abdomen and thighs are firm but his pecs and ass have the right amount of give. A perfect amount of softness.
Steve would know because he’s had to will away many boners at the sight of them.
And Billy’s funny in a witty, sarcastic way. He grins toosharptooprettytoobright and dangerous. He’s smart too, like taking mostly AP classes smart and he’s smug about it all because he knows he’s hot shit. Of course, the bastard is self aware. Cocky. Steve likes him so much. Wants him so bad that it’s dizzying, sickening.
So yeah, there’s stuff that everyone can agree on but then….then, there’s whatever this is.
This being the two penny-sized indents at the base of Billy’s spine. Symmetrical and just defined enough for average eye to discern.
When Steve sees them for the first time though, he promptly drops the basketball in his hands. In front of everyone. During fucking gym class. Purely out of shock.
He catches himself within the same breath and quickly looks away.
Swallows.
Ignores the pointed look that Patrick sends him for flaking out, mid-pass, like some kind of freak and looks around cooly.
Because Billy Hargrove has dimples of venus.
Affectionately dubbed a sign of beauty by Michelangelo. Famed after the Greek goddess’ simulacrum. Called dimples of Apollo on men, which suits Billy all the more, in Steve’s opinion.
The sun child.
Flushed with life. Deserving of avid worshippers. A being deserving of wax poetic. Glittering, dazzling, vibrant and the Camaro, his chariot.
And he knows this because dimples are like, his freckles. His glasses. His braces. They’re a niche, little thing that he finds just devastating. Achingly cute. Nancy has a pair of them near her laugh lines that he would kiss everyday and prod at, endeared.
So he ambles on through practise a little out of breath and red in the face with his newfound knowledge.
Watches Billy jog over to the locker room with everyone else at the end; skin slick and sweat pooling at the divots of his waistband. Tempting.
He stands back and feigns trying to catch his breath, his hands on his knees. Eyes the younger boy’s retreating form from up through his hair. Imagines hooking his thumbs into the depressions of his flesh.
Relishes in the thought of splaying his hands across the width of his waist.
Feels his mouth go dry and a rush of white heat surging south.
Licks his lips absentmindedly as his cock aches to life and makes the decision to skip the locker room schtick, save anyone realizing he’s sporting a half chub.
Instead, he grabs his backpack and heads out to his car. The parking lot is mostly empty by the time he gets there and devoid of anyone interested in him enough to wave him over. He tosses his stuff into the backseat of the Beemer and speeds off before anyone can catch up to him.
It’s a short drive to his house but he spends it envisioning Billy in all sorts of compromising positions. Thinks about the flush on his skin when he plays and the heat in his eyes— wonders how easily he gives in; loud-mouth turned soft and pliant at the faintest hint of pleasure.
He barely makes it inside before shucking his bag off and stripping himself bare of sweat-sticky clothes. In the same breath, he’s fisting a too damp hand around his cock and hissing at the near painful throb. His only relief comes from the coldness of the door against his back as he slumps against it.
Precum beads at the flushed head and he gathers it all on the upstroke to ease the glide. Squeezes his eyes shut so tightly that honeyed galaxies explode behind the lids and he can’t think.
Can’t think about the consequences of jerking off to someone he sees damn near everyday. Doesn’t care enough to avoid the impending embarrassment.
Why would he? Instead, he thinks of Billy laid out beneath him, all pretty and flushed and glittering; his eyes wet with unshed tears and ruddy lower lip between his teeth as he looks over his shoulder at him. Imagines the roughness of his voice and his muscles all pulled taut as Steve knocks the air out of his lungs with each slam of his cock.
He fucks into the tight ‘o’ of his hand, already so goddamn close and conjures up the image of twin dips. Wants to paint pearlescent white across the bronze expanse of Billy’s back; let it pool where he is favored by the Gods.
The thought has him biting back a moan as he grinds into the slickness of his hold. The heat in his gut expands so greatly, so suddenly, that his hips flex with the intensity of it. Until finally,
it snaps.
Like a star beneath the pressures of gravity; with all the strength and ferocity of a supernova. And he’s spilling all over his hand in a few stiff, jerky thrusts and breathing out a low, garbled “Fuck, Billy— shitshitshit.”
And God, he’s so screwed.
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sadhornyygirl · 5 months
Text
OBSESSION (full version)
BILLY pov;
The loud sound of the party hurt my eardrums, that night for a specific reason I was completely out of the mood to party, I didn't touch the drink, I didn't leave the couch for a minute. The only movement I made was to bring the cigarette to my mouth and release the smoke.
A girl sat on my lap and started whispering something in my ear, I didn't understand what she wanted, I didn't pay the slightest attention to what she said. I think she noticed as she huffed and got off my lap, walking hard.
My eyes were fixed on the girl twerking in the middle of the dance floor with two other guys. Damn Y/N, I didn't know how angry it was making me, the taller guy with blonde hair put his hand around her waist pulling Y/N's body against his, my girl smiled mischievously and rubbed her ass against the blonde next to her. rhythm of the music, the brunette in front closed her in front by holding the back of her head and pressing his chest to hers.
Y/n and I had a complicated relationship, and the complicated part of it was that he didn't exist. My girl, but she still didn't know she was mine.
She didn't like me much, the reason was stupid, I caught her masturbating when I accidentally entered her room, I offered help, I sucked that girl and I can't get her out of my head and she can't look me in the face.
That's how I started to notice her, and that's how she did everything she could to never bump into me or look at me again, I've tried talking to her, I've tried to enter her room "accidentally" again but she always leaves it locked. , even if I hear her moans through the door, I can't touch her.
It's been two months since I stuck my tongue in that wet pussy and I can't stop involuntarily tasting it, I can't stop thinking about it, wanting it again.
I was completely obsessed with her, I didn't try to hide it, I didn't hide it from her or anyone else but in the same way she acted as if I didn't exist or as if I were a thorn in her side.
The loud music with a sensual beat was irritating me, even more so because it was making her dance next to those two idiots, some other guys were also passing by looking at her, what could I do? She was fucking beautiful.
The party was going on, drunks dancing, people rubbing shoulders, and I was in the corner of the sofa, carefully observing the movements of her body.
The brunette ran his finger along the inside of his thigh and threatened to put his hand under his skirt. Y/N held his hand and placed it on top of the other boy's hand on her waist, as if she hadn't done anything, the brunette tried to go back with his hand under her skirt against her will, I threw the cigarette on the floor, crumpling it him, and then I exploded.
The next thing I knew I was on top of the brunette, punching his face angrily, the blonde was trying to hit me and get me off his friend. I'm sure I felt my face being hit a few times, I felt the metallic taste of blood in my mouth but I didn't care, he could dance with her, she wasn't just mine — even if he wanted her to be — but he could never touch her without her wanting to.
— Get off of him, man, the kid's going to faint. – some voices shouted.
I ignored it.
I felt my face being raised and I prepared myself for another punch but all I saw was her, with her small hands looking me in the eyes.
- Drop. – he ordered.
I released her shirt and threw her unconscious body on the floor, damn disgusting stalker.
She took my hand and lifted me up, I didn't know what to say, it was the first time she had touched me since that, the first time she had spoken to me.
— Take him to his room, Alex, you’re not going to tell the party owner what happened, no one is going. – She raised her voice. — If this gets out, the party with drinks and drugs gets out, if this gets out of here everyone will be fucked, and this asshole tried to touch me, he deserved it.
— Sweetheart, you were rubbing against him and Alex, that's what happens when you wind up. – a girl said, I locked my jaw feeling her squeeze my hand.
— He was dancing with me because I allowed him to, but at no point did I allow him to put his hand up my skirt, not that you know "dear" but there are limits. – she said calmly. — And other than that, I don't owe any of you satisfaction, if this gets out, everyone will fuck off, when this trash wakes up, tell them to shut up or I will. – She moved the boy with her foot. - The party goes on.
I just watched in silence, that girl exuded power, all her orders were obeyed, including when she asked for a first aid kit for one of the boys who was standing on the track. She pulled me by the hand to the armchair where I was before, sat me down and stood in front of me without saying anything. She waited in silence until the boy brought the suitcase, until that moment she was holding my hand.
— I shouldn't have done that. – She let go of my hand and opened the box. — I could have killed him. — Y/N rested her knee on the arm of the chair and approached my face with a cotton pad wet with something that made my cut burn. — But you're a troublemaker, you should have expected that.
I grabbed her thigh when she put that thing in my mouth and it burned like hell. I pressed my fingers on her thigh and closed my eyes waiting for her to finish passing. When she finished cleaning my face I let go of her thigh immediately.
- I am really sorry. – I said, putting my hands away for fear of her thinking that I had touched her with ulterior motives. — I mean, not by hitting him, he wanted to harass you.
—And how do you know that? Were you watching me? – I nodded, lowering my head, a bad idea, your panties were visible as your knee was on the arm of the chair. I looked up again and saw her face, she was laughing. — I don't know whether to be grateful or worried.
Shit, what fucking effect did that girl have on me? I ignored her speech and looked to the side, I wanted to fuck her, touch her, smell her, be close to her for two months, and now she's here and I can't look at her face for more than five seconds.
She took my hand and cleaned my fingers with the boy's blood, cleaned the bruises that were left on my wrist and applied medicine to everything. Before I could say anything she took the box and disappeared.
I hit the arm of the chair and leaned back, throwing my head back, hell. I stood there feeling pathetic and feeling sorry for myself, I was being ridiculous, no woman made me look like this or feel like this why the hell did Y/N make me all weird? I never even kissed that girl, all I did was suck her.
I was about to explode and leave that ridiculous party when I saw her coming towards me, Y/N walked elegantly and with a lap in her hand, she swayed as she walked, I looked down her entire body and I couldn't help but drool, her black skirt looked like like the one at school but it was shorter, she wore a tight blouse that outlined the peaks of her breasts deliciously, I don't know what I was capable of sucking them too.
Before I could finish any thought, she arrived, sat on the arm of the armchair and gave me the drink.
— I came to the conclusion that you should be grateful, I made you a drink as a token of my gratitude. - she said. — Well, thank you for not letting him touch me, thank you. – She sighed and got up to leave.
I grabbed her arm and stood up with her. Y/N stopped and turned back looking at my face, she was touching my chest, the girl was all delicate, all small but she was in charge of half the apartment, if I hadn't been completely obsessed with her I would definitely be scared of her.
— Can I help with anything else? – he asked softly.
- I want you. – I said to her for the thousandth time, I hoped that this time she wouldn't look at me with disdain and disappear.
Y/n looked me up and down, I beat myself up for going out with a white blouse and simple black pants, I looked pathetic next to her.
- We already talked about this. – she murmured.
— If by talking you mean I said I want you and you ignore me, yes, we had a lot of conversations. – She took my hand off her arm. — What do you have against me? I was on the dance floor with two boys dancing with them, clearly two idiots but I didn't even get a look for more than five seconds. I know I'm not the best man in the world, I'm not even close, but damn, I just want a kiss.
That's a lie, I didn't just want a kiss, but if I say I want to fuck her until she passes out from exhaustion I'll scare her.
But I wanted her so much that if she gave me even one kiss I would settle and try to deal with it later.
—Want a kiss, Loomis? – he asked softly. — I see how you look at me, you don't just want a kiss.
- No I do not want.
—And what do you want from me? Didn't have enough that day? – she pushed my chest and I sat in the armchair again. — You sucked me off Billy, I think you felt enough of me.
A shock ran through my body as she sat on my thighs. She brought her face closer to mine and put our noses together. I was tempted to kiss her mouth but I didn't, I didn't know what her game was.
— Didn't like it? – I questioned. —Are you going to say you didn't like having my tongue inside you? I felt how he shook on my face, the way he moaned and how he came in my mouth. – I murmured, seeing his face turn red. — Fuck, I remember your face contorting with pleasure every time I look at you, I have to control myself a lot to not get hard every time.
- You're an idiot.
— I am. – he said and I watched his face.
Y/N got closer to me, climbing onto my lap, holding my face with her hands and brushing her mouth against mine. I moaned feeling his mouth touch me. I put my hands on her waist, pulling her closer to me, she gave in, finally gave in and kissed my mouth.
Her tongue touched mine, immediately waking up my cock in my pants, she didn't complain when I started to dominate the kiss, when I made her moan by sucking her tongue.
When we ran out of air, we separated and breathed heavily with our foreheads pressed together.
— Did you hit that boy because he touched me and you think he has some kind of dominance over me or because he touched me? I want the truth. – she said, resting her hands on my shoulder. — Be honest with me and I'll be honest with you.
— Because he touched you, I watched you all night dancing with them and other guys, I didn't hit anyone, right? – She nodded. — Why don't you want to hear from me?
— I don't want to be on your list, Hacker. – I looked around, some people were paying attention to us, but no more than two or three people, and we weren't doing anything much, there were worse ones out there. — I know you have a list of girls you fucked, I also know that Stu, Jordan and Noah also have it, I was afraid I had been on that disgusting list when you did that to me in my room. – fuck, I couldn’t even blame her, she was right. — I ignored you because I thought that if you put my name on that list, they wouldn't believe it if I didn't look at you, if I didn't talk to you. Did you put my name on that list?
— I'm not part of this anymore. – I stated. — I stopped this just before I had you, I'm sorry about that, I know I was wrong.
She lowered her head and then raised it again, a mischievous smile appeared on her face, so fucking beautiful.
— Will you swear to assure me that you are no longer involved in this joke? – she asked and I extended my hand to her. — I like your sincerity Loomis, I don't mind being with you, I just didn't want to have my name in that trash.
Y/N kissed me again and pushed her hips forward, finally climbing on top of me, all that separated me from her was her panties, my clothes don't count, I'll get rid of them in five seconds if she wants. I kissed her neck, licking the area, leaving hickeys everywhere, listening to her soft moans, my hot girl.
I moved my hands down to her breasts and pressed them over her blouse, the gasp came straight from her throat, I fingered her erect nipple, I would give anything to put them in my mouth.
— Let me suck your breasts, please. – I lost numbness.
She turned her face looking around, I looked too, there was no one sober enough looking here, no one was paying attention to another one of the couples eating each other in the room.
She lowered her blouse, freeing her breasts and it didn't take me long to stick them in my mouth, she trembled in my lap and moaned softly, damn I wanted to fuck her so much. I delighted in her breasts, sucking them both, marking them both while she moaned and trembled slightly. I lifted her blouse again and moved towards her lips again.
Y/N seemed to want me as much as I wanted her, I don't know if it was all in my head, no, it wasn't, she started rolling on top of me making me squeeze her waist and moan.
— If you're trying to get me excited, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I've had a hard-on since you kissed me.
— I know it is, I can feel it. – She rubbed herself against me.
— If you continue, I'm going to want to eat you here, now. – I pulled her hair back, I moved towards her neck, sucking again.
— Wow, I thought you already wanted it. – this girl was playing with fire, luckily I loved burning myself.
— Sit on your back. - I sent. — Well, if you want me to fuck you.
She took a moment to think, but then she got up and looked at me so deeply that I felt like I was going to cum just by looking at her. She raised her eyebrows and I got the message, I quickly opened my pants and pulled my dick out. The girl turned her back and pulled her panties to the side and sat on me, she didn't sit straight down, she just rubbed herself against me.
Her wet, warm skin against mine was delicious, I was almost giving up and taking her to a bedroom, but it wouldn't be any fun.
— Let me enter you, please. – I asked in his ear. — I'm going to eat you slowly, and you won't be able to moan too loudly, but I know you like to be watched.
She nodded, lifted her ass enough for me to put my head inside her, she moaned and I pulled her waist down, completely entering her and hearing the scream from the back of her throat.
She couldn't hide her face with pleasure, two girls looked at us and I immediately put my mouth on her neck so they thought I was just kissing her neck, the girls saw and quickly left. I pulled her body back and held her waist helping her move slowly while watching carefully to make sure no one was seeing too much.
Her moans were soft and mine were hoarse and almost silent, she had her back against my chest, her head against my shoulder and her eyes were closed as she bit her lips.
That girl was an exhibitionist, she liked to be watched.
She started rolling on my lap and her sitting became more visible, if anyone looked, they would know right away that I was fucking her. I didn't care anymore.
I kissed her neck, licking and nibbling the area while she moaned desperately, I pressed her breasts under her blouse and she continued to sit on me, she started to tremble as she sat and rolled.
— Billy, I'm going to cum, you know I'm not silent when I cum. – he murmured slowly.
I knew, I really knew. I put my hand over her mouth, squeezing it so she wouldn't make any noise and I placed the other on her waist to regulate the movements.
Y/n moaned loudly but her moan was muffled by my hand, when she came I felt her insides squeezing me while she didn't care anymore, she sat desperately on me and rolled around, her pleasure led to mine, I placed my mouth on her neck to muffle it I moaned while she was still sitting and I came inside her, feeling her squeezing me and shaking more and more.
She slowed down her movements until she was standing over me breathing heavily. I kissed his shoulder neck gently trying to catch my breath.
When I looked ahead I saw three people, two girls and a boy looking at us with their mouths open and their eyes wide open.
I smiled at the scene, I took my hand to her chest, pressing it through her blouse and kissed her cheek. They didn't look away, I'm sure they were wondering if they saw it right.
— We have an audience. – she whispered, laughing softly.
— They're not sure what they saw. – I murmured, thinking it was bothering her. — They're drunk.
— We would be horrible people if we left them in doubt for the rest of their lives. – I realized that she didn't give a damn about what they saw, I wanted to prove that I fucked her in public, that they saw exactly what it was.
I smiled, caressing her waist and pulling her body up, my dick came out of her and our orgasms dripped from inside her pussy, our audience opened their eyes even wider if that was possible.
Just to confirm, I reached under her skirt and collected the moisture by rubbing it on her clitoris. She moaned softly sitting on me again without me inside her this time.
— I think we've had enough of an audience, let's go to my room. – she called and I smiled. — We're still there.
She got up and I put my dick away, adjusted my cum-stained pants and walked after her to her room. We passed by our audience and they were still watching.
- Good night people. – I whispered.
— Enjoy the party. – Y/N murmured.
Damn this girl drove me crazy. I wanted her even more, more often, more and more.
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trans-eddie · 9 months
Text
steve's not a religious man, for all the years he spent being dragged to mass by his parents. but if he was, he'd want to ask god why he let someone like eddie die for this piece of shit town that didn't deserve him.
steve had watched from across the room as dustin handed over eddie's necklace, in tears. as wayne clutched it in his hand and brought it to his lips, like a rosary, eyes closed in prayer; and steve had broken a little.
growing up the way he had, he was no stranger to guilt. guilt was a steady undercurrent, a familiar beast he long learned how to wrangle, to compartmentalize.
but not this.
this guilt is a serpent, rearing its ugly head in his chest and constricting around his lungs until he can't breathe. it makes him uneasy, agitated. like he's filled with an energy he needs to expell.
the same kind that made him pick a fight with jonathan byers.
the same kind that made him crash his car into billy hargrove.
he knows there's something wrong with him, but he's never learned how to handle his emotions; he just does his best for having been a kid who was handed a bat studded full of rusty nails to solve his problems.
but guilt is not a thing you can beat down like some bloodthirsty monster from another dimension, no matter how it eats him.
so steve does what he does, and he swings his fists at the next best thing.
it's some buzzcut, blonde asshole from the local church, the older brother of one of carver's guys. a few years older than steve, even. he's mouthing off, worked up and angry. if steve was more rational, more gracious, he'd give leeway for the man's own grief, his own emotional response to loss and terror. steve's been through enough to know what it's like, to crave control.
but he's feeling neither of those things, and the man is sending specks of spit out of his mouth as he yells about searching the rubble of the town for eddie munson, the murderer, the satanist.
steve's jaw tenses. his hands clench tight, and before he knows what he's doing, he's rounded on him and socked him square on the jaw.
there's a beat where he processes, where he makes the conscious choice whether to step back and assess his actions, or to follow through.
the man snarls at him, and the moment passes. steve takes two fistfuls of his shirt and slams him to the ground, shouting as he goes.
"don't you dare open your mouth about him again, you ungrateful -" he cuts off with a growl, slamming the man forcefully against the earth again. "you'll never know, you'll never fucking know what he did for you! nobody will fucking know, they won't ever know now, they won't-!"
steve stops when he feels warm, wet trails run down his cheeks, tastes the salt on his tongue.
he stumbles back off the man, hands touching his face.
he hasn't been able to cry yet. it hasn't come, no matter how much it hurt, no matter how many times steve played that last look eddie gave him, over and over in his head, thinking about the fact that the next time he saw those eyes, they would be vacant and lifeless.
he could never cry, because he blamed himself, and what right did he have to cry over what was his own fault?
he'd had crying beat out of him at eight years old, when his father was on edge from his mother's nagging, and steve had been upset about something or other.
he'd smacked him, pinched the bridge of his nose, and shaken steve's head until he'd stopped, wide eyed and scared.
"men don't cry," his father had sneered, dragging rough thumbs across steve's eyelids, drying them of the evidence.
steve turns his head up, up, up, now, bare and facing the heavens, where god looks disinterestedly on from, and he screams. he runs his voice hoarse, the sobs tearing violently from him, wracking his body with sorrowful tremors.
his face is wet, and it's too salty to be rain.
he doesn't feel like a man.
not when he'd left eddie behind and run off to play hero, only to watch helplessly as the people he loved were choked by vines.
not when eddie had been left to make the hard choice, the sacrificial play, just to get them the win; and they hadn't even defeated vecna, only bought them all some more time.
he's not a man, but a failure.
somehow, in the midst of this, steve drags himself back home. manages to climb into his bed, and pull out what he'd stuffed underneath.
he sits there, numb fingers clutching a swathe of bloody denim, and he cries.
he cries until there's nothing left, until he feels like his whole body is dried and and empty, a husk curling in on itself.
he fades into sleep, too quickly to catch the reflective, red glint that enters his bedroom as the the sun sets, or to catch the way a figure moves through the shadows, perching at the end of his bed.
he doesn't hear the low rumble of a voice, raspy and trying to whisper.
"I thought I was the animal now," eddie says, sharp teeth flashing. "but you're a regular guard dog, aren't you, harrington?"
his eyes glow in the moonlight as he watches the sleeping figure below him with intensity.
"will you fight everyone that badmouths me, I wonder?" eddie laughs mirthlessly. "your work will be cut out for you."
his eyes travel over steve's full form, pausing with surprise when he catches the vest he's clinging to like a security blanket.
steve doesn't wake to see the winged body take off out of his upper story window.
he does wake, however, and find that the item of clothing he fell asleep with is conspicuously missing; and, even more alarming, what's been left in it's place: his yellow sweater, the one abandoned to the upside down, swallowed up when lover's lake split apart.
the one he never expected to see again, because things don't just come back when they've been lost like that.
except, maybe, he thinks, running over the golden fabric with disbelieving fingertips...maybe, there is a chance that they sometimes do.
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sleepyhutcherson · 2 months
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Can you do a post about how each character reacts to you getting cussed out by your parents for no reason? Please pookie 🙏🙏
a/n: i made this super quick so im sorry if it’s rough.
mike schmidt would glare at them from across the table. in this scenario, you would be at dinner over at your parents’ place. mid dinner they would find a reason to scold you in a harsh manner, you become tense and embarrassed not even wanting to glance over at mike. he would notice this, he would hate the tone your parents used with you, he would drop his silverware down onto his plate not caring about the annoyingly loud sound that comes from his utensils and the porcelain plate. he wouldn’t say anything to them, he would glare at them, his brows furrowed and his eyes piercing black and then stand up, the chair screeching horribly against the tile. “we’re leaving,” he’d announce, grabbing your hand. he knew you didn’t want to be in the situation, he knew you didn’t deal well with being scolded but especially being insulted by your own parents. he would apologise, telling you how you don’t have to go back there if you don’t want to, how he’ll make sure to take care for you.
derek danforth is usually a dickhead let’s be real. but. the moment he catches your parents telling you off from afar he’s quick to approach you. “what the fuck is going on?” he asks, clearly upset. you look over at derek ready to apologise on behalf of you and your parents, then: “get the fuck out before i fucking call security.” he grabs you, snaking his arm around your waist and pulling you away from the scenery, he could tell how overwhelmed you were by the situation with the mere look on your face. “you alright, sweetheart?”
peeta mellark will hate hearing them tell you off. like mike, he’ll say nothing but definitely excuse the two of you. when your parents call after you, he’ll turn around to them, shielding you with his body, his hand intertwined with yours. “don’t,” he’ll warn, glaring at them. he’ll take you home, he’ll bake you your favourite pastry, and apologise to you. you tell him he has nothing to apologise for, that you’re used to it but he’ll insist it’s not fair you’re so used to being treated like that by them.
josh futterman is definitely surprised. his parents have never told him off once so when he hears the tone your parents use with you…and the words they use…he goes still. his brows furrow, eyes flickering towards you and your parents. “hey, don’t talk to her like that,” he scoffs at them. then he’ll look over at you, eyes going soft for you: “do you wanna go?” he’ll be so gentle with you, he can see how horribly you’re feeling. he’ll make sure to pepper kisses all over your face when your home, reminding you how much he loves you.
billy (burn 2019) will not hesitate to tell your parents off lmao. he has a temper, remember? he doesn’t care about being polite or “modest” anymore, the moment he heard the way they spoke to you all respect he had for your parents is gone. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so angry. he’ll drag you away from them handling you gently, of course. on the drive back home, he’ll hold your hand, and though his gaze his focused on the road he’ll go off telling you how he can’t believe your parents, how you didn’t deserve to be treated like that, how unfair they were, and so on. he’ll apologise later for losing his temper, kissing you softly.
clapton davis won’t say anything at all. i mean, he can’t really interfere here. but, he’ll try his absolute best to make you feel better. he’ll take you to his place, he assumes you probably want to be away from home, and once you agree he knows he was right. he lays with you in his bed, your head on his chest while he comfortingly pets your head while you tell him about your parents and how awful you feel about their words. he comforts you the entire time, telling you sweet nothings along with making a couple horrible jokes that end up making you laugh.
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eldritch-nightmare · 2 months
Text
slashers with hanahaki.
a/n: icb this took me like 2 months to finish omg anyways hanahaki is not a trope i personally enjoy but i like writing angst and i think it's an interesting concept and this is. honestly just an excuse to write amanda angst, actually. uhm. first post about slashers :thumbs up: might take time for me to get used to writing them tbh, so this might be short but!! i hope you enjoy it all nonetheless. ignore how long ethan's is. amanda comes with her own special bot so <3 enjoy tht if u use it.
includes: amanda young, quinn bailey, tiffany valentine, billy loomis, bo sinclair, and ethan landry.
warnings: gn!reader, angst, many mentions of vomit and coughing, blood, implied unrequited love (esp in bo's), randomly assigned flowers plucked out of my flower book.
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AMANDA YOUNG
If there's one thing about Amanda that isn't hard to miss, it's the fact that she gets very jealous, very easily. It was obvious in the way she almost constantly glared at Lynn whenever the woman was in her line of sight, the way she held no kindness in her voice whenever the two were forced to speak to each other.
Well... it was obvious to John, at least. Even in the state that he was in, the man was nothing if not observant, and he certainly didn't miss the way Amanda's gaze would linger on you and Lynn. He didn't miss the way she would come up with random things for you to do, things that involved you keeping a distance from Lynn.
What John isn't aware of, however, is the fact that each time Amanda goes off alone, it's to cough and vomit up the flowers blooming inside of her. She loves you so much that she can't even be angry when she stares down at the bloodied petals of lavender in her hand as she gasps for breath.
This is her punishment, she thinks. It's her curse, one she'll keep to herself. She loves you, but she doesn't deserve you. If you get too close to her, if she shows that she cares for you, you'll die. They always do, and you're the one person she can't stand to lose.
So she'll keep this to herself. She'll diligently wash the blood off the petals in her hand and she'll put them with the rest, tucked away safely for no one but her to see. She'll let her love be a secret, even if her jealousy boils over.
QUINN BAILEY
Romance isn't something Quinn cares for. She's not interested in falling in love since it doesn't align with her goals of wanting to get revenge for her brother's murder. And you, the best friend of Samantha Carpenter, were meant to be another victim. The plan was to kill you in front of Sam, just to inflict a little extra trauma on her.
But that's not how things were turning out. The more time she spent with you, pretending to be friends with people she planned on killing, the more attached she was starting to become. It was small at first, something she could push aside at any given moment. But you just had to be nice to her.
With everything going on, everyone was always worrying over Sam or Tara, but during it all, you had pulled her to the side to ask how she was handling everything, asking if she was okay. And suddenly, it became harder to push those feelings aside, and camellia petals started forcing their way out of her throat whenever she coughed.
This didn't go unnoticed either, by her family or her 'friends', but she always brushed their concerns off. It's just a little cough, no big deal. But it wasn't. Your time to die was coming up, and Quinn was the one who was supposed to kill you. But now she's hesitating, her mind working a mile a minute to come up with a way for you to get out of this alive without risking everything else.
She loves you, as much as she loathes to admit it. She doesn't want to be in love, especially knowing you'll never love her back once you find out who she truly is.
TIFFANY VALENTINE
Pretty much everyone who knows Tiffany knows about her feelings for you. It's not something she bothers to hide, and even she's surprised that you aren't aware of the love that she has for you. Or maybe you're just pretending like you're oblivious? She certainly hopes not.
Either way, the first time she coughs a flower up, she feels... well... she wasn't upset. In her eyes, it was further proof of how much she truly adored you. The petals of pansies that she coughed up were always tucked away in a jar. She probably has like... 4-5 jars full of petals by this point.
She doesn't blame you for any of this either. It's not your fault that she fell in love with you! How could she not? You're you. Anyone could love you. She'd kill them if they did, of course, but her point still stands.
Of course, she's not an idiot. She knows what this means. The constant pain in her throat and the feeling of vomiting up blood and flowers is nothing compared to the pain of knowing you more than likely don't love her back. But it's a pain she's willing to bear if it means having you in her life.
And Tiffany is just... fairly confident that given enough time and patience, you'll love her back, one day. She could (and probably should) give up on you, she knows that, but she doesn't want to. Not yet.
BILLY LOOMIS
Love is not something that comes easily for Billy. He's damn good at faking it, but he tends to disappear the moment he starts feeling like he actually might be growing to love someone. But loving you? It was as easy as breathing, he didn't even notice he had fallen until the roses started falling from his lips. How cliché.
He's really... torn, to be honest, for many reasons. This little illness of flowers could potentially get in the way of his plans, first and foremost. It makes it a lot harder pretending to love Sydney when he starts hacking up stupid fucking rose petals whenever he thinks about you. And god forbid if he has a coughing fit when he's doing Ghostface business.
It's a pain to hide, but Billy is nothing if not determined. Not even Stu knows, that's how badly he wants to keep this a secret. It's not something he plans on hiding forever, of course. Once he's killed Sydney, he'll... probably get around to doing something about the roses piling up in a random shoebox in his room.
The thought of killing you certainly crossed his mind, don't get him wrong. It would probably be much easier having you dead than leaving you alive and dealing with this, but the moment he even processed the thought, he was falling out of bed from the sheer force of the coughing fit that hit him. It's the most roses he's ever thrown up at once, so. He threw that thought out almost immediately.
But he'll definitely play it off and act as if he isn't painfully pining for you if you ever find out about this little predicament. He's too prideful, too hesitant to ever fully commit to a person. The roses bloodied roses in the beat-up box are the closest he'll ever get to confessing his love to you.
BO SINCLAIR
Bo knew letting you live would bite him in the ass one of these days, he just wasn't expecting it to be like this. He knew he had a bit of a soft spot for you, though he loathed to admit it, even when his brothers give him knowing looks.
You just looked so damn perfect, all scared with tears streaming down your face. How could he not want to keep you around a little longer? He just didn't actually expect himself to grow attached. It was supposed to be a sadistic game, a way for him to torture you. Instead, he was the one being tortured.
Tortured by these damn flowers he keeps coughing up. He had to ask Lester what they were, though he obviously didn't mention why. Nobody was going to know about this, not Lester, not Vincent, and certainly not you. This was going to stay between him, and the bloodied petals of honeysuckle that he keeps hidden in the gas station.
He knew well enough that this little problem wasn't just going to go away so easily. Don't get him wrong, if he could kill you, he would. The thought alone is enough to keep him locked in a room, throwing up flowers until he sees dots in his vision. So clearly, he can't. He's undeniably stuck with you now, whether he likes it or not.
What's worse is he'll never have your love. Why would he? You'd be a fool to ever fall in love with him after everything he has put you through. He'll only ever have your fear.
ETHAN LANDRY
He wholeheartedly did not expect to fall in love, especially with someone inside Tara and Sam's friend group. What's worse is that it wasn't a 'normal' way of falling in love either. No, you stole his heart the moment you stabbed him while he was under the mask, growling out a threat so cruel, so gruesome, he was definitely going to steal it in the future.
The wild look in your eyes was a stark contrast to how you usually behaved, and that excited him. Honestly, how could he not fall in love with you after that? With Ghostface, you were aggressive, almost animalistic in the way you would fight for your life. With Ethan, you were concerned for his safety, even if you did eye him with suspicion like everyone else.
The flowers were annoying though, he can't lie. It's not fun coughing up tulips, especially when he's under the mask. It also makes it harder to hide his identity. Ethan honestly doesn't seem like he'd hide his coughing fits from you because he'd probably thrive under your concern. That means that if he slips up and has one when assuming the Ghostface persona, his identity is basically revealed and it ruins everything he and his family have been working for.
He'll make up excuses as to why you can't be killed. You're not even that close to Tara or Sam. Honestly, he wouldn't consider you to be part of the friend group, so your death wouldn't have any impact on them. You've unintentionally helped them with their plans by being Ethan's alibi whenever it wasn't him under the mask, so killing you just wouldn't make sense. He's not exactly the best at hiding his feelings for you.
And Ethan is well aware that given his second identity, he'll never have a chance with you. The moment the inevitable unmasking happens, he'll lose any kindness you may hold for him. That thought alone is enough to make the tulips force their way out of his throat, but he won't lie... it's exciting to think about how you might react once it's revealed that he's Ghostface.
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