#unless you’re like me and you’re sexy and cool and get lots of hot weed smoking girlfriends | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

streamafterlaughter · 1 year

Text

Fundamental Differing

Chapter XIV: Away To Nowhere Plains

nav | master list | playlist | pin board | chapter XIII

summary: a welcome home party in hawkins, a break from the whirlwind of rock n roll fame.

tags/warning: flirting, consumption of alcohol, weed, swearing, normal chill stuff nothing insane, LOTS of use of Y/n sorry guys nicknames are for couples!!!!! slow burn, mutual pining, tension as per usual

a/n: I MISSED YOU GUYS. i’m so sorry this took so long to update, i was following paramore around the east coast for a few weeks like a crazy person. should be posting waaaay more regularly now. please enjoy! Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated. please reblog and comment to support the author!

—

December 1986

You rub the sleep from your eyes as you wake, Eddie’s pretty face slowly coming into focus. “Hey, sleepyhead. How’re you feeling?” His voice is soft, soothing to your ears.

“Better this time around. I think you chased the nightmare off, I dreamt of you instead.” You weren’t planning on telling him, you blame your fatigue for the confession.

“Yeah? Was it hot?” He jokes, and you bite your bottom lip because yeah, it definitely was. “It was, wasn’t it?!” Eddie hops out of bed and starts pacing the floor. “Let me guess, we were somewhere cool, like the woods. We were camping! Yeah, and you forgot your tent, so we had to share, and bing bang boom we’re waking up the wildlife.” He looks back to you, eager for your confession.

You cackle at his guess. “Not even close, man. You were a fucking rockstar. Got up on stage at The Garden, and everyone was there for you. Kicked some fucking ass, might I add.” You leave the part where you jumped on stage out, not wanting to give Eddie any ideas for future Corroded Coffin shows.

“Can I tell you something?” He plops back down next to you, shaking the bed. “Remember the party? When you told me the band could be something, and I told you that was never really the plan?” You nod, and he sighs, “Well. I was lying. It’s been the only thing I’ve wanted to do since I was a kid. What you said meant a lot to me, and I wanted to believe you, but we’d just met, and I wasn’t sure if you were being serious or if you wanted to get in my pants.” He grins, and you know he’s joking.

“It was both, obviously!” You backhand him, and he fakes being hurt. “But mostly the former, I really meant it. I do mean it! You’re talented, you’ve got a great group of friends.”. You open your arms, and he scoops you into his, wrapping his legs around your waist like a koala. He mumbles something into your neck, sounding embarrassed. “What was that?”

He removes his head from your shoulder. With his legs still curled around you, he grasps you by the shoulders, as if to steady your already unmoving frame. He looks deeply into your eyes, and though he looks exhausted, he is absolutely stunning. You fight everything in you to jump him there, forget about a night out with friends, and just ravage the boy in your arms all night instead.

“I love you.”

You swear your heart stops. In fact, you are definitely dead. You died, flew into some deluded version of Catholic Heaven where you get everything you want, no consequence. Eddie tries to read your expression, and you hope to god he can because you sure don’t know what the fuck to feel. “You don’t have to say it back, in fact, don’t. Not yet. But I mean it.”

“I-“ Eddie cuts you off with a kiss, and you let him. You close the tiny gap between his chest and yours, and kiss him to convey all the feelings your words aren’t capable of.

“Now, put on something sexy, we’re going out tonight.” Eddie rolls off of you, snatching his towel from his chair on the way out of the room.

Holy shit.

Your POV

“Is anyone here to pick us up?” You ask, linking your arm with Steve’s as you exit into the terminal. The airport is bustling with families on their way to Disneyworld and Martha’s Vineyard for their summer vacations, meanwhile you’re about to spend a week in one of the most traumatizing towns of your young adulthood.

“Yeah, Nance and Jonathan are- and speak of the devil!”

Nancy and Jonathan approach from the other side of your gate, and you take off running. Nance catches you in her embrace, squeezing you tightly as you fall into her arms. “Hi, baby!” You squeal, keeping your old friend close.

“Hi, honey! It’s so nice to see you!” When she lets you go, you move to hug Jonathan as Robin and Steve say their hellos. Eddie and the guys are further back, sending waves to them. Nancy doesn’t accept that, though, and throws herself into Eddie. “Hey, Ed.” She mumbles into his shoulder.

Eddie’s POV

“Hey, Nance. Long time.”

“Too long!” She separates herself from him and backhands his chest. “Visit more!”

Eddie scoffs. “Hey, you’re in Boston now, don’t give me that shit!”

“Sure, but I come home every summer. I know you’re big and famous, but this is still your home!”

“How is the big guy?” He’s talking about Dustin, eyes betraying a glimpse of who Eddie used to be.

“He’s good. He misses you. We didn’t tell him, or any of them actually, that you were coming.” Nancy’s shy, suddenly.

“Because we weren’t sure if you actually were.” Jonathan explains, and Eddie nods, pressing his lips together. It makes sense, he’s made plenty of empty promises to visit already, only finally pulling himself together because of you.

“But you did! You came! Both of you came, which is even crazier. But it’s great! We’re having a party tonight, Steve’s hosting, we can all drive over together.” Nancy blurts, her mind moving faster than her mouth can.

“A party?” You ask, voice raising an octave higher than it usually sits. You sound nervous.

“Well, what us casual folk consider a party. You guys will probably see it as a pathetic attempt at one.”

“Oh, please!” Steve interjects, “My parties are never pathetic. I was the king!”

Eddie groans dramatically. “Yeah, yeah, man. We know, you peaked in high school.”

“I did not.” Steve crosses his arms, and your laugh draws Eddie’s attention back to you.

“I for one would love a Hawkins style party.” You add finally, a real smile spread across your face. “It’ll be nice to see everyone.”

Nancy nods, taking your carry on from your grasp. “Great! Let’s get you settled.”

“Did you book us a hotel? Eddie asks, surprised. That’s above any level of friendship he’s had with these two specifically.

They both laugh. “A hotel? You’re staying with us!” Oh, fuck.

—

Your POV

“So, my parents happen to be away for the week you’re all here,” Nancy starts, unlocking the door to her childhood home, a building that housed many a party, many a D&D game. “so we have it to ourselves! The couches up here and downstairs, the guest room, and obviously Robin and Y/n will be sleeping with me, to catch me up on the Hollywood Gossip.” Nancy winks at you, and you smile. You’ve missed her, missed Hawkins, despite everything.

“When are the kids getting here?” You ask. You mean Max, specifically. You owe her some money. Eddie and the guys make their way downstairs before Nancy answers,

“They’re at Dustin’s, they’ll be over later today. Something about needing to catch up on the news?”

You bring your palm to your face. “Shit. I was gonna tell you over drinks, lots and lots of drinks, but uh, there’s a rumor flying around that Eddie and I are, y’know,” You trail off, fidgeting like an embarrassed child.

Nancy brings her manicured hand to her open mouth, quick to hide her pity. (It doesn’t work.) “Oh, god. Are you? Sorry, that was rude. How are you handling it?”

You laugh, unfazed by her curiosity. “I don’t really know what we are right now,”

“So you’re something?” She smirks.

You roll your eyes. “We’ll always be something.”

She shrugs, a truce. “What are you gonna tell them? Tell Dustin? You know how he gets.”

You shake your head. “That’s Eddie’s problem.”

Nancy chirps a laugh, placing your suitcase at the end of her bed, and Robin’s backpack beside it. “Fair enough. But didn’t Max bet you the break up wouldn’t last?”

You snort, “Yeah, I owe the kid fifty bucks.”

“If I’d known we were putting money on it, I’d be freaking rich!” Robin teases, and you try to smother your grin. She’s right, she’d been betting on you and Eddie reconciling for the past two years.

“Sorry, Bob. Ya snooze, ya lose!”

“Speaking of snoozing, I need a nap before this party. Pretty sure I broke my neck on the plane.”

Nancy rouses you and Robin from your slumbers gently, shaking your shoulders while whispering that “It’s time to get up, rockstars!” The time on her old alarm clock blinks 4:15PM, both you and Robin had slept the day away. You take your time getting up, stretching your limbs slowly as your eyes adjust to the sunlight, streaming through the blinds. Your stomach growls loudly, and Nancy chuckles. “Pizza’s on the way! We’ll eat before we go to Steve’s. For now, though, go get dressed. Remember your bathing suits!” She’s in Mom mode, taking care of you and Robin while running around like a crazy person.

You dig through your suitcase, coming up empty handed. “I don’t have a bathing suit.”

Robin rolls her eyes. “Yes you do!” She takes your suitcase from you, pulling out the skimpy bikini from beneath your piles of clothing. It’s black with cherries on it, and teeny tiny. You bite your lip in embarrassment. It’s a cute bikini, but it’s super inappropriate to be wearing around the kids.

Robin seems to read your mind, though. “They’re all adults now, y/n. You don’t need to walk around in a mumu. Plus,” she wiggles her eyebrows teasingly, “we both know who’ll love this number.”

You groan, snatching the fabric from her grip. “Fine! But you have to wear your yellow one. I’m not gonna be the only one walking around almost-naked.”

She giggles, agreeing. “Doesn’t bother me!” She finds her suit in her backpack and leaves the room to let you change.

Eddie’s POV

“So, why are we staying here if we’re having the party at your place?” Eddie asks before biting into his pizza.

“Because Nancy insisted on staying here, but she can’t host a party to save her life. Plus, I have a pool.”

“Your parents have a pool. You live in a tiny apartment in Seattle with two other people.”

Steve shoves Eddie’s shoulder. “Man, shut up. At least I have friends to live with.” Eddie’s face falls, and Steve notices immediately. “I’m sorry. That was too far.”

He shrugs. “It’s alright, you’re not exactly wrong.” He’s glad he’s not home right now, it gets lonely there. The thought of seeing all of his friends again, though, is still overwhelming him. He has no idea what he’ll say to Dustin, or worse, what Dustin will say to him.

Before Eddie can panic further, though, you and Robin enter the kitchen. You’re in shorts and a tight black t-shirt, the strings of your bikini visible underneath. Your short hair is clipped to keep it out of your face, the vibrant color having faded since the beginning of the tour. You send a small smile his way, melting Eddie’s insecurities, even temporarily. He can’t seem to peel his eyes from you as you walk over to the counter, helping yourself to a slice of pizza. He has to fight the urge to walk over to you, wrap his arms around your waist, rest his head on your shoulder. It practically pains him, when you’re out of his reach.

“Eds?” You snap him out of his trance, waving a hand in front of him.

“What?” He shakes his head, as if to rid the image from his brain. “Sorry.”

You grin shyly, and Eddie could melt at the sight. “I asked if you’re ready to go?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m all set.”

Your smile widens, and you hold your hand out for him. He takes it, expecting you to drag him out to the car, but you pull him hooking, hooking your arm around his. “Okay, then. Shall we?”

He can feel the eyes of the room on the pair of you, his cheeks warming. You don’t seem to notice, only looking up at him, your eyes shiny and warm.

Mere hours later, Steve’s parents’ house is full and loud, music bumping through the surround sound speakers. Eddie’s in the kitchen nursing a beer when Dustin enters. He’s grown taller and more muscular since the last time Eddie’s seen him, and the beginnings of a beard pepper his face, making him look more like a man than the last time he’d seem the boy. Susie’s on his arm, smiling kindly when she meets Eddie’s eyes. “You wanna drink, Dusty?” She asks sweetly, and Dustin nods. She exits the kitchen, leaving the boys alone.

“What’s up, Dusty?” Eddie tries to joke, extending his hand for Dustin to shake. He swats it away, instead pulling Eddie into a much needed hug.

“Hey, Eddie.” His greeting is muffled by Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie returns the hug without shame, wrapping his arms around Dustin’s shoulders. The two stay like that, long lost brothers seeing each other for the first time in years.

“Missed you, man.” Eddie finally says when Dustin breaks the hug, holding Eddie at arm’s length. “You're lookin’ great.”

“I’ve been hittin’ the gym a little, check this out,” Dustin flexes a bicep, the beginnings of muscle protruding from his arm. Eddie chuckles, nodding an approval.

When the small talk dies, neither speaks at first, unsure of where to take the conversation besides the elephant in the room. “How’s tour treating you?” Dustin finally asks, taking a seat at the kitchen island. Susie returns with two sodas, handing one to Dustin and sipping the other.

Eddie shrugs, taking another sip of his beer. “It’s been alright, pretty standard stuff.”

Dustin chuckles, and the sound is deeper than Eddie’s used to. “Standard, huh? Touring with the ex love of your life?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Right to the point, huh?”

“Obviously, man! I haven’t seen you in years, and the one time you come back, it’s with all this new information I’m not aware of! You know I hate being out of the loop!”

“I know, and I owe you a lot of information. Trust me, I wanna tell you everything,” Before Eddie can continue, you’re stumbling into the kitchen, giggling drunkenly with Robin as you wobble to the coolers in the corner.

“Hi, boys! Oh my god, it can’t be. Is that Dustin freaking Henderson?!” You gasp dramatically, pulling a big smile from Dustin as he approaches you. You swing your arms around his neck, having to get on tiptoes now to reach him. He wraps his arms around you, and you sway as you hug him tightly.

“Hey, Y/n.” He greets warmly, then releases you to hug Robin with the same welcoming arms. “Hi, Bob.”

“Hey, buddy.” Robin hums, rubbing Dustin’s back as she hugs him closely.

“Sorry to interrupt, I know you guys have a lot of catching up to do. But we’re about to play chicken, and I need a partner.” You look from Dustin to where Eddie is, leaning against the counter, opening his fourth beer of the night.

“What, me?”

You roll your eyes. “Obviously, silly. C’mon! It’ll be fun.” You’re wasted, eyes glazed over and posture loose. It’s impossible to say no to you.

“I’ll be out in a second.”

“Okay!” You sing, hooking your arm through Robins again. The two of you exit the kitchen, into the back yard. Eddie can’t look away as you peel your shirt over your head, revealing a tiny black bikini top.

“You haven’t changed a bit, Munson.” Dustin taunts as Eddie pulls his stare from your silhouette.

“What are you talking about?”

“Seriously? You can’t tell me that is how friends look at each other,” He mimicks Eddie, staring open mouthed at the wall, eyes wide and unblinking. “It’s pathetic!”

“This is why I haven’t come back here, Henderson.” Eddie teases, backhanding the kid’s stomach. “Can’t deal with your know-it-all bullshit.”

Dustin snorts a laugh. “Hey, man, I'm just callin’ it like I see it.”

Your POV

You dip your toes into the cool water while you wait, letting the feeling contrast with the alcohol induced warmth of your body. You feel a presence sit next to you, another pair of feet meeting yours under the water.

“Hey, kiddo.” You greet her, leaning your head on her shoulder.

“What’s up, big shot?” Max leans her head on yours, her way of hugging you without committing to it. She looks the same, despite being a little taller, and maybe her hair’s gotten a little longer.

“Oh, y’know. Same old.”

She snorts. “Word on the street is you owe me some money.”

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get that to you this week. Nice to see you, too.”

“Hey! It is nice to see you! I haven’t in a while, I’m sorry.” Max wraps her arms around your shoulders. “I missed you, y’know.”

“I missed you too, Maxie. How are things?”

“They’re alright. I don’t live here anymore, that’s a big plus.”

“Oh yeah?”

She nods. “Moved out after college, got a place in the city with Lucas. I’ll show you some time this week maybe?”

You nod. “For sure.”

“But enough about my endeavors, how are you? Y’know, with all this shit going on?”

You shake your head. “I dunno, dude. Weird, I guess. Everything’s weird.”

“I take it you and Eddie aren’t officially back together, then?”

“Not exactly. But not, not together. Does that make sense?”

“Not at all. Good to see you two haven’t changed too much.”

You giggle, nudging her shoulder with yours. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, c’mon! You two used to dance around the idea of dating before you started. You think we didn’t notice? I was fifteen, not stupid! It took you so much time to admit you liked each other, then even more time to figure out you needed to break up. Now here we are again, watching Eddie and Y/n tiptoe around their feelings for each other.”

You sigh, the alcohol not letting you fully grasp what she’s saying. “I hate when you’re right.”

She grins smugly. “I know, and I’m sorry. It happens a lot.”

Before you can respond, Eddie throws the screen door open. “Who’s ready to play some chicken?” He’s very drunk, but not in the sad and angry way you’re used to seeing him lately.

Max gives you another grin, and you roll your eyes before getting to your feet. “You’re in for it now, team Scoops.” You point across the pool, where Robin and Steve stand in their bathing suits discussing strategy. Eddie shoves his pants to the ground, revealing a too small pair of swim trunks you're sure have belonged to him since freshman year. He tugs his shirt over his head, discarding it with his pants in the grass. You do your best not to stare at the tattoos scattered on his torso, littering his arms. You refuse to look further than his chest, not risking even a glance at his waist, his hips. Instead of gawking like you want to, you pay close attention to undoing the button of your cutoff shorts, shimmying out of them and tossing them onto the chair beside you.You’re completely exposed, standing only in the tiniest bikini you own because it was the only one you could find before leaving.

As much as you don’t want to draw his attention, the feeling of Eddie’s eyes on your body surges your confidence. Without looking back, you get into the pool, taking each step slowly to adjust to the temperature. It’s fairly warm, and you say a quick thank you prayer. You definitely cannot be walking around with pointy nips right now. Eddie wades in behind you, splashing you in his wake, steps clumsy. Once he’s settled, he turns to face you, squatting so the water reaches his chest.

“You ready, sweetheart?” You try not to seem fazed by his slip. He stopped calling you that after you broke up, and the only times he has since then, he’s apologized for it. Now, though, with his guard down and his judgment obscured, he smirks at you like he knows what he’s just done. You pretend you don’t get it.

“Sure thing, Munson.” No pretty boy, not even this drunk. He’s not yours, not now.

If he notices, he doesn’t let it show, keeping the same expression as he motions you forward. You’ve done this hundreds of times, over the course of the few summers you had in Hawkins. You and Eddie used to drive over on Fridays and stay the weekend with Rob, Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan, babysitting the kids and enjoying your time as immature adults while you still could. It feels the same, even after all those years have passed, you’re still in the same small town, with the same group of friends, playing the same stupid games. You climb onto his shoulders, and try not to react when his hands grasp tightly on each thigh, locked on either side of his head.

“Alright, listen up!” Dustin has gathered the rest of your friends beside the pool, while scattered guests you barely remember from your semester in high school crowd around to spectate. “This is Drown The Chicken. The first person to fall off of their partner loses. There will be three rounds, each one five minutes. A shot of liquor will be taken by the loser after each round. If both opponents fail to knock the other off of their partner, a tiebreaker will take place. Today, the tie breaker will be…” He pauses for dramatic effect, and Mike takes the opportunity to slap his legs in a drumroll. “A shotgun race!” The whole backyard cheers, and you groan. The worst thing about these kids being in college, is that they’re too young to realize drinking is not the only thing adults do. It is one of the most fun, though.

“Both members of each team will shotgun a malt beverage of their choosing. First one to finish wins the tiebreaker for their team, and therefore the round! At the end, the losers will have to drink a shot of the winners’ choosing!” The four of you nod in understanding. Regardless, you know you’ll have to drink at some point. “On your mark, get set, GO!” Will clicks his timer, and the party guests start cheering, egging you on. You hear shouts of, “I’ve got ten on Munson and L/n!” and “Kick his ass!” and Robin reaches for you suddenly, catching you off guard. The music is cranked through the speakers, giving the match a soundtrack of Pixies’ Here Comes Your Man. Steve wades toward you, Robin clutching a handful of his precious hair to keep her balance. You take advantage of his winces of “Ouch, Rob, not the hair!” and shove, sending Robin almost entirely backwards. Steve catches her at the last second, wobbling as he tries to keep her out of the water.

“Lucky shot!” Robin shouts, stretching her arms out toward you. You lean back, and Eddie catches you, gripping your thighs tightly on his shoulders. He moves with you, saving your equilibrium, and you stretch towards Robin. The two of you tangle your arms, while the boys below you swat at each other, hurling meaningless insults and taunts. Finally, you gain the advantage, shoving Robin’s shoulder with enough force to send her backwards, slipping quickly from Steve’s grasp. She splashes into the water, submerged up to her neck. “Shit.”

“That’s one for team Hellfire!” Dustin claps his hands loudly as he hands your opponents each a shot, and you giggle as Robin struggles to climb back onto Steve’s back, their skin now slippery with pool water.

“Nice moves.” Eddie cranes his neck, and you meet his eyes. His face is soft with intoxication, his guard lowered. Yours is higher than ever, though, and you look away before he can reel you in any further.

“Round two!” You repeat the motions, this time while Smells Like Teen Spirit blares from the radio, and your former classmates yelling and cheering for their preferred team. Robin catches you by surprise, kicking one of your knees enough to throw you off balance, then shoving you to the side. You topple off of Eddie’s shoulders, into the cool water. You stay there for a second, keeping your eyes closed to avoid looking at Eddie’s surely disappointed expression.

But when you dare to peek through one eye, the other still tightly shut, he’s smiling at you. Not his usual toothy grin, the one he gives to his friends. His smile is soft, lips pressed together as if to stop them from quivering with a rogue giggle.

He’s drunk, you remind yourself. You have to remember he’s drunk.

“What now, Munson?!” Steve sends a splash at Eddie, and he scoffs in mock disgust.

“Boys, please, you’ll have plenty of time to play mermaids after Eddie and I kick your ass.” Eddie giggles as you climb his back, repositioning yourself on top of him. It’s more difficult, now that both of you are soaked from the neck down. Dustin hands you both a shot, Eddie’s whiskey and yours vodka, and you both down them easily.

“Final round, people! This round wins it all! See Max to confirm your bets. Are the teams ready?” The four of you give variations of a confirmation, and Dustin shouts, once again, “On your mark… get set… GO!” You square your body to hold better balance, as Eddie and Steve approach each other slowly. Eddie’s hands grip your thighs tightly, and you hope he can’t feel the heat growing between your legs. Not now.

You continue to dodge and dance around each other, narrowly missing one another as you swing your limbs, stretching and reaching for Robin as Eddie tries to sneak around Steve’s guard. After five long minutes, Dustin startles you with the newly found volume in his voice. “TIME’S UP! WE HAVE A TIE!” You can hear the conflicting emotions of the crowd, probably correlating to their own predictions. “Y’all know what that means!” The four of you sulk as you leave the water, defeated by the dreaded tie breaker.

Lucas passes you each a can and a miscellaneous tool to puncture it with. You’ve barely grown to like beer, even after months of being surrounded by it, but it’s the only thing available that you’re physically able to shotgun. You’ve chosen a Red Stripe, in honor of your teammate.

“The rules of the tiebreaker are as follows: You will puncture your can when I say go, and you will chug for thirty seconds before opening the top. The first person to finish their beverage wins the tiebreaker for their team. Got it?” Eddie groans a confirmation, while you and Robin nod and Steve taps each side of his face lightly to psych himself out. Dustin counts you off again, and you each stab your cans, quickly rushing the liquid into your mouth. Will counts from 30 out loud as he watches the timer, and the crowd is eerily quiet, focused on the race in front of them.

“30! Crack ‘em open!” You do as you’re told, quickly snapping the tab of the can to relieve the pressure. You can tell you’re slowing down, grossed out by the bread flavored piss water sliding down your throat. Luckily, though, Eddie is devouring his own, his head tilted to make sure he’s getting all of it. The feeling between your legs has returned, and you quickly shoot your gaze to Robin, who’s also struggling to finish her beer. In reality, this is a race between Steve and Eddie, winner takes all. All in this case is bragging rights, and probably a horrible hangover.

Eddie is the first to finish, lifting the can above his head in celebration. Thank god, too, because you definitely shouldn’t consume another shot.

“We have a winner!” Dustin runs between you and Eddie, hoisting each of your wrists to the air as the backyard guests cheer and boo and yell. You chance another look in Eddie’s direction, admiring his whoops of victory as he high fives his bandmates.

Eddie’s POV

It’s 3AM as the party starts to die, and people he’d never spoken to in high school approach him to say their goodbyes. Eddie is pulled into hugs, handshakes, and conversations with his former bullies, and girls that never looked at him twice. Though his eighteen year old self would be relishing in this sudden change, he’s tired. He knows it’s not real, that none of these people even care about his art. They care that he’s famous, and that they know someone famous. But the only person in this room that knows him is behind him, falling asleep on the basement sofa.

“Hey, Y/n?” Eddie is finally able to approach you, after breaking away from another pointless conversation. “You wanna get going?”

Your eyes slide to his face, glassy and warm with inebriation. “Aw, you’re leaving?” You pout, staring up at him, and he could melt. You’d been talking about going home not five minutes ago, but it’s clear your brain has stalled.

“Only if you wanna. We can stay as long as you want.”

“I can come with you?”

He can't help but laugh, you’re so cute like this, so soft. “Of course you can.”

“I thought you were sick of me.” Your face slips slightly, lips twitching into a frown.

“What?” Eddie shifts so his whole body faces you. “I could never be sick of you.”

You shrug, clearly not understanding the gravity of his words. “I dunno, we’ve been in close quarters since tour started, I don’t mind giving you space if you need it.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to feel his own drunken insecurity surface. “Are you sick of me?” It’s barely a whisper, but you hear him.

Your eyes widen quickly, shocked at his words. “No! Eddie, of course not.”

“Okay, good.” He flashes you what he knows is an unconvincing smile. “You wanna go home?”

You shake your head. “Can we go for a walk?”

Predictably, you end up back at Hawkins High, the parking lot pitch black in the buzz of a summer night. Even looking at it, Eddie feels the chill of his memories washing over him. This is where he was stuck for six years, where Steve had shoved him into a locker their freshman year, where Jason Carver had made his final senior year miserable. It is the building that harbors Eddie’s darkest thoughts, where the seed of his shame had sprouted from. Where he had to deal with Chrissy’s death, and being framed for it.

But it was also where he met you. Where he’d introduced you to some of his closest friends, where he sat with you at lunch every day, dancing around each other until after midterms. As much as Eddie still hates to admit it, and as horrendously tacky as it sounds, high school is where he’d fallen in love.

Eddie lets his eyes wander in the darkness, knowing you won’t catch him in your hazy state. Your arms hang limply by your sides as you stare up at the school building, seeming to admire it. He wonders how being here must make you feel, as someone that left as soon as they could. It hadn’t been easy for you either, restarting your entire social life in your senior year.

“Do you ever miss it?” Your words catch him off guard, your voice almost inaudible even in the quiet.

“Hell no,” He scoffs, and feels you shift beside him. “I spent way too much extra time here to even think of missing it.”

“Okay, maybe not the actual, physical place. But, don't you miss how easy it was?”

“You’re joking, right? We fought an underground of Hell Monsters, Y/n, that wasn’t what I’d call easy.”

You groan, and he chuckles at your drunken frustration. “Christ, okay, I mean how small our world was, before all that hell monster shit. We didn’t have to worry about people outside of Hawkins, outside of the little bubble of our friends.”

“And you miss that?” He’s genuinely curious. You had always been looking to move, spread out beyond the small town your parents dragged you to. He never expected you to miss it.

You shrug. “Sometimes, yeah. Despite everything that happened, I was happy here. I had a home.”

Eddie’s vision blurs with the implication of your words. Of course, you’d had a physical home, but you'd also had him. And Steve, Robin, Nance, the kids. You’d never had a solid friend group in Boston.

“I miss parts of it,” He finally confesses, turning his head to fully look at you again. “Some more than others.”

You look for him, finding his eyes easily in the dark, and he adjusts quickly to see you better.

“You think things will ever be that easy again?” There’s a hint of optimism in your voice, and it begs him to join it, just for a second.

“I really, really hope so.”

Your POV

Somehow, you and Eddie find your way back to Steve’s, tiptoeing clumsily through the front door to a mass of passed out Hawkins alum. Steve is sprawled on the couch, while Dustin and Mike are on the floor beside him. In the basement, Will and El are cleaning the empty bottles and red solo cups from the absolutely destroyed basement, bobbing and weaving around members of Corroded Coffin and DDA, and they inform you Lucas and Max have gone back to Nancy’s already. Upstairs, the rest of your friends are in respective bedrooms, sleeping to prepare for their unavoidable hangovers.

“There’s one room left.” Eddie leads the way to Steve’s parents’ bedroom, the only one left untouched by party guests.

You peel the heavy comforter back, shimmying off your shorts, so tired and so absolutely plastered at this point, you don’t realize he’s watching as you untie your bikini top, letting it fall to the floor.

“Whoa! Um,” Eddie spins himself to face the window, losing his balance as he does. Even though he can’t see you, he still smacks his hands over his eyes. “I, uh, I’m gonna go find a spot on the floor.” He begins to sidestep towards the door, still refusing to look at you without a top on.

“Eddie,” You know the alcohol is making you flirty, and you’ll probably regret this tomorrow, but fuck it. You’re on vacation. You tug on Eddie’s shoulder, turning him to face you. He keeps his eyes glued to your face, barely blinking, definitely not letting them wander. “Stay here.”

He clears his throat, wincing. “Y/n,” Your pout cuts him off. “What’s that face for?”

“It’s weird, hearing my name out of your mouth. It was always sweetheart. Or baby, or pretty, or love. Now I’m just Y/n.” Your words slur together, exhaustion taking hold. You let your fingers dance up his bare arm, his shirt still somewhere in Steve’s yard. Still not daring to move his eyes from your face, he has an answer almost immediately.

“You’re not just Y/n, you’re Y/n! The Y/n, actually, a songwriting, vocalizing, rockstar badass. I’ve seen it firsthand.”

“Well then, the Y/n wants the Eddie Munson in bed with them.” It’s a bold choice of words, but you don’t care. You need him right now, even through the thick fog of the liquor.

“I want to, you have no idea how badly i want to, Y/n, I promise you that,”

“Then why won’t you?”

“Because I shouldn’t. I can’t.” He’s blunt. There is no arguing, he’s made up his mind.

And still, you prod him with inquiries. “Is it because we’re drunk? Because I trust you. I know you wouldn’t hurt me, Ed.”

He sighs, his hand finally moving to caress your burning cheek. “It’s because we’re drunk, but not because I'm scared of hurting you. I can’t let our first time together in two years be something you’ll regret tomorrow, but I also can’t chance either of us forgetting it.” He says it quietly, like he’s had the volume on himself turned down. You’ve heard him anyway, but it takes you a second to digest what he’s said.

“Okay,” You accept his answer, and before he can turn to leave you add, “Can you just sleep next to me?”

Eddie hesitates for a second, searching your expression. He must find an answer, because he nods. “Okay, sweetheart. But I gotta have you put a shirt on. For my own sake.”

You giggle, the satisfaction of hearing your nickname making you malleable to his words, nodding in agreement. Eddie exits the bedroom, and returns a bit later with a piece of fabric in his hand. His shirt. Of course it’s his shirt, what was he gonna do, give you Steve’s to sleep in?

You’re surrounded by his smell, his warmth, instantaneously. You crawl into the king sized bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. You hear Eddie’s pants drop to the floor, before he climbs into bed, hoisting the covers to slide underneath them. You scoot back, and he knows now to wrap his arm around your waist, without the weird hesitation and awkward shuffling before you give up for the sake of comfort. Eddie rests his face behind your neck, the warm exhale of breath tickling your skin.

“Goodnight, baby.” He mumbles into the fabric of your-slash-his shirt, and your body vibrates with glee.

“Goodnight, baby.”

tag list: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @wiildflower-xxx @beebeerockknot @champagne-glamour @xxgothwhorexx @therensistance @chonkzombie @brxkenartt @sidthedollface2 @gaysludge @poisonedluv @eddiesguitarskills @kellsck | send a message to be added🫶

#eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson x reader #gn!reader #afab!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #slow burn #mutual pining #fundamental differing #new kid fic #stranger things #strangerthingscentral #st4 #bff!steve harrington #bff!robin buckley

36 notes · View notes

geekxgoddess85 · 4 years

Text

Very Bad Things

~PROLOGUE~ How It Began

“Are you sure a-about this Armin?”

“Of course, I’m sure. You trust me, right?”

Eren bit his lip, giving his childhood best friend a worried look. The two were currently on summer break from Trost University, going into their senior year. For Eren, junior year was a nightmare. If he was to be honest with himself, he had been slacking for the past two years so, when junior year came, he had to buckle down and keep his nose in the books in order to be able to pass the necessary courses to complete his credits. For college, staying an extra year on the count of not passing a course or lack of credits was more normal than one would think. But for Eren, he wanted to make sure he graduated the same time his friends did.

It was one week into summer break and Eren still felt the stress from taking his finals. It was the reason Armin was in his bedroom at the moment, making an account on—on behalf of Eren— on an adult live cam site called Strip ‘N Chat. Eren didn’t know how to feel about it. It was one thing to watch porn videos, but to actually interact with a person via webcam was kind of unnerving. Armin mentioned it was a great way to let off steam and when his best friend brought the idea to him, Eren was a bit…perturbed about it all. It was ironic, though. During their entire lives, Armin had been the conservative, stick-in-the-mud prude who used to balk at the very thought of sex, while Eren was the extroverted, loudmouth rebel. Three years into their college career and look at how the tables turned. Eren was still…well…Eren, but he found himself as the prude. The crazy thing was, Armin lost his virginity their freshman year during a frat party to Jean, of all people, while Eren was still a virgin. After his little tryst with Jean (and a couple of times afterwards), Armin began to blossom and open up in all ways, including sexual. He was openly gay and sexually active. And fucking proud of it all too.

The shit was crazy.

“Okay. Done.” Armin smiled and sat back in his chair. “You’re all signed up and I got ya’ logged in. Here’s your username and password.” He grabbed Eren’s sketch pad and began writing the information down. “Username is SlickxJagger and your password is Sk8terB0i30.”

Eren raised his eyes. “Slick…x…Jagger?”

“Yeah, corny, but cool, huh?”

“No!” He argued. “I sound like a washed up 90’s porn star!”

Armin shrugged and blinked his eyes innocently. “It’s a porn site, Eren. Everyone’s username sounds like a washed up 90’s porn star. Now, you’re all set! I loaded up that pic of you at Krista’s pool party.”

Eren sighed. He knew what picture Armin was speaking of. He posted it on his Instagram and had gotten a ton of likes. He didn’t think it was anything special. It was just him, with his red and white swim trunks on, holding up the hem of his shirt with his teeth, exposing his abs and various fake tattoos. He had grown his hair out—almost to his shoulders—and was a damp mess of a bird’s nest. Because of that and his long bangs, his face was pretty much hidden, though the sun light had shone just right on his sea green eyes, which caused them to sparkle and almost glow. “What do I do now?” He blinked owlishly.

Sitting forward, Armin clapped his hands onto the top of his knees. “Fill in your profile and filter out what you’re looking for. Then you can pick which Cam Model you like and subscribe to them. Every time they go live or post a pic or video, you’ll get a notification. Remember, some of that shit, they charge you tokens. It’s usually the more risqué stuff. The amount is based on their own discretion. And if you want one-on-one’s, you definitely have to pay out the ass with tokens.”

Biting his lip, Eren looked at his profile. He filled in the basic information about his age, height, and build, and his likes and dislikes. He answered everything to the best of his ability and honestly. The only thing he lied about was his name. Instead of his real name, he decided to use ‘Jagger’ as being his first name. He didn’t provide a last name. His preferences came next. He started clicking the various boxes. “Um….okay, I like brunettes. Height doesn’t really matter to me. A muscular body would be nice. Don’t care about ethnicity…..” He continued to click away, with Armin helping him on certain things. “Is that all? Did I miss anything?”

“Yes, you sure did,” Armin replied, with a devilish grin. “And I know exactly which to pick out of Twink or Daddy. Click on Daddy.”

Eren winced. “Ew!”

Rolling his eyes, Armin sighed. “Not that kind of Daddy, Eren. Duh! Daddy kink.” He watched his buddy blink cluelessly at him. “I can’t believe you don’t know what that is. Even I know, dude. It’s when a younger male twink is enticed by an older male ‘Zaddy’. That’s the gist of it. If ya’ wanna know more, google it!” Standing, Armin slapped his hands down on Eren’s shoulders, before wrapping his arms around Eren’s neck, hugging him from behind. “I gotta go. Mikasa asked me to fill in for her at the Café. Did you talk to Annie about your schedule?”

Eren raised his own arms up and behind him, awkwardly wrapping them around Armin’s waist…or trying to as much as he could while sitting in his red and black gamer chair. “Yeah. I have the same schedule as you now so that I can catch a ride with you.”

“Great! I’ll see you tomorrow night.” Armin kissed the top of Eren’s head, before taking his leave.

Eren gave his buddy a lazy wave goodbye with a lopsided grin. When his bedroom door closed, his smile died down and was followed by a heavy sigh. He still didn’t know about this whole cam thing. But he was always up to trying new things. And if Armin liked it, then maybe it couldn’t be that bad.

Over the next hour, he had gone through dozens of pages of so-called Daddies. That process was a little more frustrating that what it should have been. Eren was picky when it came to who and what he found attractive. Not that it was a thing with him anyway, but he didn’t pick based on looks. He couldn’t because all models were required to wear masks for anonymity sake. He thought that was kind of neat. It gave the models a sexy, mysterious look to them. He had to go off based on their profiles and preferences. He had to weed out a lot of douche-bags but narrowed it down to two: The Captain and Dr. Pain. He was kind of skeptical about Dr. Pain. He looked to be into BDSM and while Eren didn’t have anything against it, he had never done anything like that. But Dr. Pain was 6”2, with impeccable styled blonde hair and chiseled features from what he could tell through the mask. They had a few of the same likes and dislikes. Overall, the guy sounded pretty normal, despite liking ‘a little pain with his sex’ (his own words). The Captain…well…there was something about him. He was a shorty, standing only at 5”3. Eren was a full five inches taller than he was. Not that it mattered. He didn’t think their was a height requirement to being a Daddy, but when he googled it, the norm was the Daddy was always taller and bigger than the Twink. They shared a lot of the same likes and dislikes, but what struck a chord in Eren’s heart was The Captain’s eyes. Even through his white, red, and black mask, Eren could see a pair of piercing blue-gray eyes. Almost a light cobalt. They pulled him in as if he were in a whirlpool, being sucked into the abyss.

‘What the hell?’

Blinking back into reality, Eren shook his head and walked to the kitchen. His stomach was roaring at him angrily to feed it. “Mikasa, are you hungry?” He called out to silence. Armin was gone to work, and it seemed like Mikasa had left to go some place too. So, he was alone.

Sighing, he kicked his door closed with his toes and plopped down on his bed. A sandwich and soda sounded real good right now and that’s exactly what he was chowing down.

It was a couple of minutes before ten when a notification sounded out. He thought it was his phone, but when he checked it, he saw that it wasn’t, he furrowed his brows. “Hm—oh! My laptop!” Scrambling off the bed, Eren rushed to the laptop and pressed on the ‘enter’ key to wake his system up. Checking his email, he saw one new message and blinked slowly. “It’s from Strip N Chat.” Biting his lip, he cautiously opened up the notif; reading every single letter that made up all the words.

“The Captain is now online.”

Swallowing hard, he clicked the link that took him straight to The Captain’s page. It was a simple page. There was a large blank box in the middle of the screen that said ‘The Captain’s Quarters’. The chat was at the bottom. There his stans already there talking to each other, waiting for The Captain to show.

And when he made his entrance, it was pandemonium.

“Hello Darlings, it’s your Captain speaking. Did you miss me?" Leaning forward, resting his chin on the backs of his fingers, he winked on cobalt blue eye. "Have I got a story for my horny little Ship Mates tonight.”

Eren watched a grin spread across his face, which he couldn’t see much of it. Like all the models on the site, The Captain wore some kind of masquerade looking mask that covered majority of his face. Only his eyes, hair, and his lips and chin were seen, as far as his face goes. His body…well that was another story.

“Wow….” Eren whispered, mesmerized by the guy’s body. His shoulders were broad, and his arms were toned. And as bright as day, he sported a winged tattoo on his chest, with what looked to be a matching one on his left hip. “That’s so hot,” he whispered. Eren had a thing for tattoos. He wanted some of his own but was too afraid of needles to get any. But fucking A if this guy didn’t look hot wearing his.

“…but first, looks like we got some virgins in the house.” He smirked; a pink tongue coming out to wet his bottom and top lips. “Come on.” His voice deepened, dropping one octave. “I don’t bite.....unless you beg me for it.”

Those very words and the way he said them sent a shiver down his spine and an electric shock to his dick.

“Crew, say hello to our newest Shipmates RainMan95, PoisonedL0v3r, and…SlickxJagger. Mmmm….hey Slick….just how slick is that tight, little hole of yours?”

“Fuck. Me.” Eren’s eyes went blind. He was caught. Hook, line, and sinker or whatever the fuck it was called. The guy had him. Him and his aching dick that was standing on end, making a tent in his sweatpants.

“Speaking of holes mmmm, wait until you hear this one. It about a cute, little Twink with a bubble butt that I ate. All. Fucking. Night. Long. When I was done with him he had a…Slick…hole too, Jagger.” Captain grinned widely. “Wanna hear the story, Crew?” He lowered his voice and his tone. Sitting back in his chair, he reached into his pants and pulled out his enormous, leaking cock and began to stroke it lazily. “Get out your dicks, my lovely little perverts. Come stroke with me down memory lane.”

‘Oh no…’

Eren was fucking hooked.

#VBT #Very Bad Things #Levi #Levi Ackerman #Levixeren #Levi x Eren #Ereri #Riren #Ereri Snk #Levi x Eren Fan #Fan Fiction #Fan Fic #Fanfiction #snk fanfiction #AOT Fanfiction

17 notes · View notes

lovemesomesurveys · 3 years

Text

[yoliebloop]

where was your last kiss? I think it was in his car. It was like 8 years ago, so my memory is a little foggy.

have you ever had that person hold you? Yes.

when was your last piercing? When I got my ears pierced as a baby.

Last kiss, when was it? Like I said, it was like 8 years ago.

Do you ever look at yourself and get angry? Yes. I’m really upset, disappointed, and disgusted with myself to be honest.

are you hiding something from the one you love? Nothing major.

can you tell the difference between coke and pepsi? I definitely can and Coke is better.

do you prefer weed or cig? I’ve smoked weed and at least there’s benefits to it, but I have no desire to ever smoke a cigarette.

what do your parents say about smoking? They support weed being legal because of the medicinal benefits, but as for cigarettes there’s no good from that.

do like kissing with tongue or without? I don’t mind a little tongue.

what's your favorite body spray? I don’t have one currently. It’s been awhile since I’ve used any body spray.

clear lip gloss or tinted? Tinted.

what show is hilarious to you? Hmm.

what's the worst thing about sex? I’m a virgin so I wouldn’t know.

have you ever thought you were pregnant? Nope.

when you were young did the word sex bother you? No.

what did your first crush look like? I vaguely remember now cause I was like 9 years old, but I’m pretty sure he had brown eyes and short brown hair.

is your body more curvy or flat? Flat.

current mood? Sick and tired of being sick and tired.

what kind of girls piss you off? People who are assholes in general piss me off. <<<

is ice cream in winter weird to eat? Nah. I drink hot coffee year round, which some people think I’m crazy for during the summer, so who am I to judge.

what's your least favorite holiday? Valentine’s Day.

if you’re having a boring day what do you usually do? I do the same things everyday.

do you turn to food when your upset? No.

is your bf/gf good with your parents? I’m single.

does chewing with someone's mouth open make your angry? Maaaaaaajor pet peeve.

what's something you hate about people? Closed-mindedness and people who are very judgmental and rude.

are you jealous of other girls? No. I am envious of some, though, like of their hair, looks, or body type.

who last made you upset? I don’t recall who, but I’ve just been so frustrated, irritated, and upset with my health and how I’m feeling, as well as where I’m at in my life. I’m just so exhausted and don’t want to feel this way anymore.

does he/she usually upset you? I get upset about that stuff a lot.

who's more strict mom or dad? My parents aren’t strict, but my dad is definitely more overprotective. what feature do you find pretty about yourself? Nothing.

I hate stuck up girls, do you? I dislike anyone who is stuck-up. <<<

do any of your friends have a nasty ego? I don’t have any friends, but I wouldn’t want a friend like that.

which smile face do you prefer? :)

does playboy make you sick? It’s not something I’ve had an interest in.

would you ever kiss a girl? No.

what about date, would you date a girl? No.

are blondes that hot? Some are, but I don’t think someone is hot just because they’re blonde.

can you remember your 4th grade teacher? Yes, he’s my favorite teacher.

what grade are you currently in? I’m done with school.

what do you usually buy/pack for lunch? --

do you think soda should be served at school? I was so upset that they removed the soda machines the year I got to high school haha. I thought it was cool to be able to get that at school.

why do you think farting is so gross to guys? I didn’t think guys typically found farting to be disgusting.

is burping gross? If you’re being loud and obnoxious about it.

do you stink right now? I just my smell my laundry detergent on my clothes.

ever watched YouTube makeup tutorials? Yeah.

are butterflies the cutest bug? Um, “cute” and “bug” don’t belong together in the same sentence unless you’re saying, “bugs aren’t cute.”

what tattoo would you get if you HAD to get one now? I’ve wanted to get “free bird” for several years.

are snakebites sexy? or over talked about? I used to think so back in my emo days.

last thing you drank? Water.

Favorite kind of gum? Minty kind only.

last song you heard? I don’t remember.

what are some of the lyrics? --

do you like M&M or Lil Wayne more? I like Eminem more. M&M, ha.

what do you think of hilter? Uh, he was a vile, evil piece of shit?

do dogs have feelings? They absolutely do.

are you afraid of snakes? YES.

favorite snack? I like to have cookies, muffins, donuts, brownies, cupcakes or Little Debbie snacks with coffee.

is Kool-Aid beautiful to you? Uh, I’ve never thought of it as being beautiful.

can you remember the last time you cried? Last night.

cocoa or coffee? Coffee, always.

7 forever or 51 forever? 51 forever.

ever seen the notebook? Nope.

"The Hills" do you think there acting or its real drama? Of course there’s acting involved. They hype things up and set things up to make certain things happen.

ever got in a fist fight? Nope.

ever get a boob job? No.

what’s your biggest flaw? I have so many to choose from.

i hate when people say "i luv u" or "ily" do you? Not a fan either, personally.

do you think cussing is trashy? I don’t like when it’s done excessively.

all time favorite band? Linkin Park.

thongs are butt dental floss. ...

rather have your guy wear tightie whities or thong? How about boxers.

your thoughts on speedo's, i think it should be speed-NO's! I don’t care.

do you think chest hair is hot? (ew) No.

what about nipple hair (lol)? No. omg what would you do if your bestfriend had nipple hair, would u tell her? Uh, I wouldn’t know if they did and that’s not of my concern. Like why would I care? Also, I’m sure she’d be aware of it.

are popping zits fun? I don’t think it’s fun, but I do it. I have an awful picking habit.

is acne gross to you? Yes, it’s not a pleasant thing to have.

can you count to 7,800,900,1. backwards? I would never even try.

anything bugging you? My head.

do you enjoy sneezing? No.

do you feel bad for bugs? always being killed cause they look weird:( No.

zebra print, do you like it? Nah.

belly ring or lip? Neither.

do you like septums? No.

what would your parents do if you got a tattoo? They wouldn’t care, but they’d be shocked if I actually got one cause they know how big of a baby I am, ha.

what about getting pregnant? They’d definitely be shocked to say the least about that.

are you on birth control? No, I don’t have a reason to be.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

1 note · View note

toast-connoisseur · 4 years

Note

ALL of the Ask Me Stuff questions

* 1: Full name: For safety purposes I’ll shorten it: Maria Barbara Gonzalez (yes, that’s the shortened version. I’m Mexican lol)

* 2: Age: 25

* 3: 3 Fears: Being buried alive, anything bad happening to a loved one, SPIDERS

* 4: 3 things I love: My family, my friends, movies

* 5: 4 turn ons: soft touches, kissing, making me food, a confident personality

* 6: 4 turn offs: Overly cocky people, racists, chewing with your mouth open

* 7: My best friend: I’m lucky to have several and I love them all with the individual pieces of my heart they each own

* 8: Sexual orientation: Queer/Gay

* 9: My best first date: I don’t think I’ve ever really gone on one tbh lol

* 10: How tall am I: 5’1 (barely make it to the 1)

* 11: What do I miss: Bars/clubs and Disneyland. Hugging people. Not losing so many people on a daily basis...

* 12: What time was I born: 3:38AM

* 13: Favourite color: Blood red (NOT maroon)

* 14: Do I have a crush: I always crush on random girls

* 15: Favourite quote: “Seduce my mind and you can have my body. Find my soul and I’m yours forever.”

* 16: Favourite place: It was once Disneyland now, I don’t really have a place lol

* 17: Favourite food: All of it. Of course Mexican food takes the top of the list though

* 18: Do I use sarcasm: Noooo, you think?!

* 19: What am I listening to right now: I’m watching Buffy

* 20: First thing I notice in new person: What vibes you’re giving off

* 21: Shoe size: 7 for the most part but sometimes I can fit into size 4 kid shoes

* 22: Eye color: Dark brown

* 23: Hair color: naturally: dark brown, right now: black

* 24: Favourite style of clothing: comfortable but more on the lines of retro/rockabilly

* 25: Ever done a prank call? Yes!

* 27: Meaning behind my URL: I love toast

* 28: Favourite movie: I have so many but one is Saved!

* 29: Favourite song: Lots, but Guilty Pleasure by Cobra Starship

* 30: Favourite band: Avenged Sevenfold

* 31: How I feel right now: Mellow

* 32: Someone I love: my nephew

* 33: My current relationship status: single

* 34: My relationship with my parents: could be better, but it’s there

* 35: Favourite holiday: Halloween

* 36: Tattoos and piercing i have: I have two piercings on each ear, my bellybutton pierced, and 6 tattoos (R foot, R ankle, L thigh, L wrist, L bicep, R bicep)

* 37: Tattoos and piercing i want: I want most of my body covered in tattoos so I have a long way to go. As for piercings, I want at least two more per ear.

* 38: The reason I joined Tumblr: my friends said it would be a good time

* 39: Do I and my last ex hate each other? I wouldn’t say hate, but we’re not friends anymore

* 40: Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts? Yes!

* 41: Have I ever kissed the last person you texted? No

* 42: When did I last hold hands? It’s been too long :(

* 43: How long does it take me to get ready in the morning? I work from home now so 0 minutes

* 44: Have You shaved your legs in the past three days? Yes

* 45: Where am I right now? In my bed

* 46: If I were drunk and can’t stand, who’s taking care of me? My best friends

* 47: Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level? Reasonable usually. I have very sensitive hearing.

* 48: Do I live with my Mom and Dad? They actually live with me, but it’s temporary.

* 49: Am I excited for anything? My upcoming move

* 50: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to? Yes, two actually

* 51: How often do I wear a fake smile? -I work Monday-Friday

* 52: When was the last time I hugged someone? -OOF

* 53: What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me? Hot

* 54: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not? -Everyone has different trust levels tbh. My best friends hold top tier.

* 55: What is something I disliked about today? I had to work

* 56: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? Beyoncé!

* 57: What do I think about most? The future I want

* 58: What’s my strangest talent? I honestly don’t think I have one? I guess being able to mimic certain voices/accents sometimes but I wouldn’t say I’m pro

* 59: Do I have any strange phobias? I don’t think they’re strange, I just hate feet

* 60: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? Behind

* 61: What was the last lie I told? “I’ll work on that”

* 62: Do I perfer talking on the phone or video chatting online? It depends who I’m talking to, but phone tbh

* 63: Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens? Both are very real

* 64: Do I believe in magic? Yes

* 65: Do I believe in luck? To an extent

* 66: What’s the weather like right now? Nice and cold

* 67: What was the last book I’ve read? I strictly read fanfiction lately

* 68: Do I like the smell of gasoline? Don’t love it, don’t hate it

* 69: Do I have any nicknames? Barbie, Barbs, whore, homo... you know, cute stuff

* 70: What was the worst injury I’ve ever had? I split my eyebrow open and had to get stitches

* 71: Do I spend money or save it? Por que no los dos?!

* 72: Can I touch my nose with a tounge? No, but my best friend can and it’s so cool!

* 73: Is there anything pink in 10 feets from me? My sweats are pink

* 74: Favourite animal? I love animals but wolves are pretty top tier

* 75: What was I doing last night at 12 AM? Sleeping

* 76: What do I think is Satan’s last name is? Sexy. Mr. Sexy.

* 77: What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it? -I Wanna Get Better by the Bleachers

* 78: How can you win my heart? Be nice to me and have good conversations to me and occasionally buy me chocolate

* 79: What would I want to be written on my tombstone? The entire lyrics to Act Up by City Girls

* 80: What is my favorite word? Motherfucker

* 81: My top 5 blogs on tumblr: I honestly bounce to and from so many. There’s no way I can only pick 5. All the ones I reblog from are so great!

* 82: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say? STOP GOING TO PARTIES

* 83: Do I have any relatives in jail? Not that I’m aware of

* 84: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power? I can turn invisible

* 85: What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on? None really tbh

* 86: What is my current desktop picture? I made it into a winter wonderland for the holidays

* 87: Had sex? “It’s been 84 years...”

* 88: Bought condoms? I’m gay

* 89: Gotten pregnant? See above

* 90: Failed a class? I think in middle school maybe?

* 91: Kissed a boy? Yes

* 92: Kissed a girl? Yes

* 93: Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain? Sadly, no

* 94: Had a job? Sadly (but also thankfully since I need money)

* 95: Left the house without my wallet? No

* 96: Bullied someone on the internet? No

* 97: Had sex in public? Yes

* 98: Played on a sports team? Yes

* 99: Smoked weed? Yes

* 100: Did drugs? Yes

* 101: Smoked cigarettes? Yes

* 102: Drank alcohol? Yes

* 103: Am I a vegetarian/vegan? No

* 104: Been overweight? No

* 105: Been underweight? Yes

* 106: Been to a wedding? Yes

* 107: Been on the computer for 5 hours straight? Yes

* 108: Watched TV for 5 hours straight? Yes

* 109: Been outside my home country? Yes

* 110: Gotten my heart broken? Sorta but I bounced back pretty quick so idk if that counts

* 111: Been to a professional sports game? Long ago

* 112: Broken a bone? No

* 113: Cut myself? I’m very accident prone

* 114: Been to prom? Yes

* 115: Been in airplane? Yes

* 116: Fly by helicopter? No

* 117: What concerts have I been to? So so so many. I miss them.

* 118: Had a crush on someone of the same sex? I’m gaaaaaaaay

* 119: Learned another language? I’ve been bilingual since I was a child

* 120: Wore make up? Yes

* 121: Lost my virginity before I was 18? No

* 122: Had oral sex? Yes

* 123: Dyed my hair? Yes

* 124: Voted in a presidential election? Yes

* 125: Rode in an ambulance? I worked for an ambulance company so just for fun

* 126: Had a surgery? Besides oral?

* 127: Met someone famous? I live in LA, so yes lol

* 128: Stalked someone on a social network? No

* 129: Peed outside? Yes

* 130: Been fishing? No, I’d like to!

* 131: Helped with charity? Yes

* 132: Been rejected by a crush? Fifth grade was a tough year for my love life...

* 133: Broken a mirror? No

* 134: What do I want for birthday? To be able to see all my friends in a safe environment

* 135: How many kids do I want and what will be their names? I’d like as many as I can comfortably afford. I’d have to discuss with the (future) wife about names

* 136: Was I named after anyone? The Virgin Mary (la Virgen Maria) and some Spanish actress named Barbara something...

* 137: Do I like my handwriting? No

* 138: What was my favourite toy as a child? I loved dolls

* 139: Favourite Tv Show? Bewitched

* 140: Where do I want to live when older? California forever unless properly convinced otherwise

* 141: Play any musical instrument? Used to play trumpet and alto sax. Can’t play anymore lol

* 142: One of my scars, how did I get it? See Q70

* 143: Favourite pizza toping? Pepperoni. I love all sorts of toppings but that’s my fav

* 144: Am I afraid of the dark? No

* 145: Am I afraid of heights? Yes

* 146: Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad? Yes

* 147: Have I ever tried my hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end? Daily

* 148: What I’m really bad at: Focusing. In my defense, I have ADHD

* 149: What my greatest achievments are: graduating college, getting promoted at work, buying my own car, purchasing a home

* 150: The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me: I once got told “good luck on the short bus” by a guy that was upset I make more money than he does

* 151: What I’d do if I won in a lottery: take care of all my bills, invest, and then try to help as many of my loved ones as I could with theirs

* 152: What do I like about myself: my resilience

* 153: My closest Tumblr friend: @itssofragile

* 154: Something I fantasise about: My future

* 155: Any question you’d like? Nah, I think we’re good!

1 note · View note

broke-n-bitchy · 5 years

Text

Wicked Dreams

Part Three

Nikki Sixx / OC

http://broke-n-bitchy.tumblr.com/post/184255512272/wicked-dreams Part One

http://broke-n-bitchy.tumblr.com/post/184267030842/wicked-dreams Part Two

Part Three

Warnings: Drinking, drugs, alcohol, cursing, shit gets a lil steamy

Nikki Sixx / OC

-Lucy’s POV-

It had been three weeks since that day at the studio, we kicked off the tour last weekend. But the beginning was fucking brutal, and amazing at the same time.

My band and I busted our asses every single day, fifteen hours a day, perfecting our performances until we got it right. We sounded good, but it was the pizazz that Doc was worried about. Seeming as Motley Crue always put on a show that people would always remember, their opening band had to not be absolutely boring.

None of us minded, though. We got our chance, we took it and we gave everything we had to get here. I wouldn’t trade it for anything, and I have a lot of things I miss. But this? This was different.

We’ve also been getting along extremely well with everyone, see, I grew up with my cousin and when we were in high school, he was always in trouble. There were countless moments when I had to cover for him. So, the fact that Motley Crue was insane, meant they all got along very quickly.

I, however, enjoyed my quiet time every now and then. I mean, I loved my band, they’re my brothers. My family. But I’m the only girl on this tour and I liked a little time to myself.

It was always ruined, though.

“LUUUCYYYY!” I heard screaming outside of the tour bus and I looked up from the music lyrics I was going over for a possible new song.

“What the hell?” Standing up, running outside and busting out the door, I saw my lead singer, Alex, running past me butt ass naked. Vince was behind him, also naked.

“Why are you guys’ naked!?”

“We burned them in the trash can in the lobby! The COPS ARE CHASING US! LET US IN!”

We have been stopped off at this hotel room for not even ten fucking minutes. Doc was still getting our rooms signed in and set up.

Without responding, because honestly, I had no words. I stepped back into the bus and left the door in so they could run inside.

Sitting back down, and refusing to even look up for a second, I jogged a few more things down before closing my journal and shoving it into my bag.

“Hey, give me some of that,” I mumbled as Nikki followed behind shortly with a bottle of Jack in his hand, but without giving him a chance to answer, I snagged the bottle and took a few swigs. Feeling the burning sensation flow down my throat, and sighing in relief, he snatched it back.

-Nikki’s POV-

It’s been three weeks getting to know System Insomniac, and honestly, the guy’s were pretty cool. So was Lucy, she was a pretty good musician, not to mention she was hot. But the only thing was that every night, after getting off stage, she’d grab her smokes and her booze and just go back to her hotel room.

It was weird, she never partied. Everyone else did, hell, even Doc joined us a few times. Not to mention she always looked so fucking serious and was always writing shit down, I’ve never seen her relax once.

“Get your own.” Grumbling in frustration, I took my bottle back.

“Alex drank it all.” She retorted without looking up, I wish she would. Her eyes, goddamn. For some reason, I couldn’t get them out of my fucking head and it was annoying.

“Alright, I’m going to go to my room and take a shower. See you guys later.”

We were off for the night and our show wasn’t until tomorrow, so me and the guys were about to head out and party. Which, thank god. I’m out of blow.

“Hey, wait-” Grabbing her by the wrist, she turned to face me, there they were. I lost my train of thought for a second.

“What’s up?” She questioned, and snapping out of it, “Uh, we’re all going out, even your band. Why don’t you come and join us? I promise you, it’ll be a good time.”

I know she can handle her alcohol, she always has a flask tucked in her boot or bra, if not just carrying around the bottle itself. So, why didn’t she ever just come with us?

She hadn’t answered yet but she gently moved her hand over mine and removed it from her wrist, her brows were furrowed together and her nose was slightly scrunched, I noticed it did that when she was thinking.

Lucy always had something on her mind.

“Um, sure. But I’m still going to go get changed and freshen up.” She had finally agreed. And with that, she turned around, walked off the bus and headed into the hotel. Ryder, Sami, and Tommy all stepped onto the bus to grab their bags,

“Hey man, your cousin finally agreed to go out with us,” I told Sami while stepping off of the bus myself, taking a swig out of the bottle before passing it to Tommy while they followed behind.

“I don’t know why she hasn’t been coming out with us before, she was insane in high school. Never home, on benders, hardly ever sober. Hell, she’s still hardly ever sober. She just coops herself up. Even before we got here, she partied harder than we did. I guess she’s taking the tour a little too seriously.” Sami confided in me about his younger cousin. I thought it was kind of weird how they lived together since kids, and how they’re now in a band. But then again, that might be because I don’t really have any family of my own except for my bandmates, my brother’s.

“Hm,” I couldn’t help but smirk. Lucy used to party, I knew she fuckin’ had a wild side. Maybe I can help bring it out of her tonight.

We headed to our rooms, I changed into some leather pants, a halfway buttoned-down shirt, and put some cologne on before stepping out.

The guys’ were waiting for me in the lobby and I picked my head up to see Lucy coming out as well.

She was wearing this backless tight little black dress. Goddamn. Her hair was down in curls, her little feet were actually in a pair of heels. I was teasing her the other day about how my heels were higher than hers, I didn’t think she owned a pair. She always wore sneakers or boots.

But Lucy looked fucking gorgeous, no, not just gorgeous, she was sexy. Curvy in all of the right places.

“Hey,” She smiled once she saw me, “Ready?” She asked me and I nodded at her, “Cool, let’s go.”

“You look hot,” I blurted out, I was gonna tell her she looked beautiful but my mouth had other things to say.

“Why thank you, Sixx, you don’t look so bad yourself.” She winked before walking past me and I quickly followed behind her, watching her hips sway back and forth while my eyes trailed down to what I can only describe as a smackable ass, gazing upward to the flawless, fair skin on her back and that’s when I noticed it. She had a tattoo right below her left shoulder blade. All I saw was the petals of a rose, I wonder what the rest looked like.

-Lucy’s POV-

It had been about half an hour since we’ve gotten to the party, I didn’t know anyone here except the people I came with. It smelled like alcohol and sweat in here, music blasted throughout the place. I think we were at someone’s house? I’m not sure.

Everyone had disappeared so I don’t know where anyone is, I was standing in the kitchen, making myself another drink. Originally starting off with a few beers, it got boring, so I figured some hard liquor would help me loosen up.

There was a bottle of scotch, I couldn’t pronounce the name on it so it must’ve been expensive. Pouring some into a glass and taking a sip, “Oh my god, that’s so fucking smooth.” Finishing off the glass before just setting it down and taking the bottle, I made my way towards a different room.

“Hey, Lucy! Come do a bump with me!” I heard Tommy yell over the music, him and Nikki were settled next to each other on a couch, Tommy had his arm wrapped around some redheaded chick, and Nikki was leaning back with some brunette leaning into his ear.

Nodding, I made a Beeline over there and nestled myself between Tommy and Nikki, I’ve never snorted anything before unless you counted nasal spray.

I did party, a lot. But my extent was drinking, weed, and the occasional happy pills.

“I’ve never done blow before,” I told Tommy as he handed me the same dish I saw Nikki with on the first day I met them, even lines of blow spread across and there was a little black straw.

“I can show you,” Tommy said but I shook my head, “It’s just shit going up my nose, can’t be that hard.” I shrugged, sometimes I was too independent for my own good.

Leaning forward, I placed the straw barely in my nostril and placed the other end over the beginning of a line, snorting until I reached the end of it.

Handing the plate over to the redhead, she had her hand out for it, I waited a moment before wrinkling my nose and sneezing four times in a row. Everyone started laughing at me.

“Fuck you guys.” I flipped them off before picking up my bottle, tilting my head back as I chugged. My eyes were watering a little from the blow and this scotch was helping me feel better in every way. Plus, I think the drugs were starting to hit.

“Whoo! Thank you, Tommy,” Wrapping my arm around his lanky shoulders, I gave him a little squeeze,

“You’re welcome!” He responded, but then Nikki smacked his arm.

“You should be thanking me because I’m the one fuckin’ who fuckin’ paid for it!” Nikki told me, I turned to look at him, I didn’t deem him for a touchy-feely person unless it was with his girl for the night. But, I wrapped my arms around him anyways, “Thank you, doll.” I told him before leaning back, crossing one leg over the other. I fell quiet, taking a swig out of my bottle before Nikki snatched it from me.

He took a drink, “Shit, that’s good.”

“Fuckin’ right? I love scotch. I love scotch more than I love myself, but I checked the label, 500 dollars. That’s worth more than my car.” I randomly babbled, oh yeah, I got chatty when I was buzzing.

“Well, maybe if you’re nice to me I’ll get you another bottle later on,” Nikki said while making eye contact with me, I tilted my head to the side. I was always nice, a little sarcastic but never rude.

“I am nice,” I responded, a little confused.

“That’s not what I meant,” His free arm snaked around my waist and tugged me closer, the brunette on his right was giving me a deathly glare. I leaned in, tilting his chin upward until my face was barely centimeters away from his. I wouldn’t deny it, Nikki was fucking hot. His hair was messy and his makeup from yesterday’s show was faded across his cheeks, his lips were taunting me, and his cologne was fucking intoxicating. My eyes trailed from his down towards his bare chest as I licked my lips before meeting his eyes with my own again, “Never going to happen, Sixx.” And with that, I shoved him back, giggling to myself.

“We’ll see about that, Lovelace.” His voice was right in my ear, whispering to me while his fingers trailed ever-so-tenderly down my back. Fuck.

“I need some fresh air,” I said quietly before getting up, making my way outside so my entire body wouldn’t feel like it was going to burst into flames.

Nikki had a different girl with him every night, I wasn’t about to be another one on the list. It was never going to happen.

Or was it?

@slowandangry @rxsesinjune @fandomshit6000 @knightwhosaysnii @prettysureimgayxo @carmineharry @triplehaitches

84 notes · View notes

thatweirdmod · 4 years

Text

Beriphitar’s Pillage 1

A cigarette leaks smoke from the corner of my frown as I work, hacking the neglected path clear again with my machete. My garden bed should be back here. I grow all kinds of things.

There's magenta irilis which gives my "snacks" and snacks their unique, fresh, lovely flavor. It also adds a nice touch of color, I think. Then there's the weight pullers: tall, weedy drogul plants, harsh smelling buds of grengis, and the innocent looking but deceptively potent white composite flowers, yequin.

Don't wanna remember all that? Don't worry; all you need to know is that they're drugs and drug enhancers, and people want what I harvest out here. It's a mixed bag, this business. It gets me into all sorts of mess with people, but I wouldn't do it, you know, unless it payed the bills.

And it does that, really well in fact. I huff I sigh into the humid air, grateful that at least it's relatively cool, and I'm finally through. I look over the state of my garden, and observe, unsurprised, that the rest of the evening must be spent weeding.

The middle class in my town is probably what's called riffraff elsewhere, and whether we're farmers, craftsmen, or prostitutes, we spend much of our time bent over.

I stretch occasionally when my back aches. I wonder if it's normal for a guy my age to have back and shoulder pain at rest, though. I grit my teeth and shrug it off when it happens, because it's not like it's a surprise, for how long I've been working the land.

Despite all the violence, dishonesty and threats I have to contend with in my line of work, I love this time after I've finished doing something. I feel small yet accomplished as I look up at the starry night sky, unpolluted and uncontested by city lights. On the ground, darkness, dirt, leaves and chirping surround me. I'm alone in the most perfect sense, but then I have to go back home into the residential district of town.

I trudge out of the woods, tired and hungry by now, and looking forward to getting home. I hop on my scooter. I'd call it something like "Trusty Rusty", but even though it's old, I take care of my things, so it's not rusty at all. I buzz down town, taking the back roads so I don't really run into anyone. My house is modest, but comfortable. Some dust can't be helped out here, but I've put my foot down against mildew, stains, and muck.

I strip out of my rough, dirt-crusted pants and torn shirt, enjoy a hot shower, and put on some fresh clothes. As I'm enjoying my warm meal, a knock sounds on my door.

I open up in my boxers and shabby grey t-shirt, with my usual lazy-eyed, irreverent expression.

"What do you want?", I ask the guy standing there.

We're friends, I guess, but only because I lack a better word. Reyfon scratches his messy brown hair and laughs lightly.

"I came to talk to you about that thing."

His thick glasses and somewhat shy demeanor would kind of suggest and innocent young man, but many of his actions paint a corrupted picture.

Truth is, I totally forgot about whatever event we have planned, but I just say, "Okay", like I was planning on him showing up at my doorstep in the middle of my beans and rice.

He steps in on his nervously light feet. I watch as he does a brief, sweeping glance over my home. I never say anything, but man, do I hate it when people evaluate and scrutinize me or my stuff like that. Reyfon smiles. "Looks like you're still your usual neat self."

"It hasn't been that long", I reply.

"Yeah, I guess so", he says. "Maybe a couple of weeks?"

"I bet you've had your hands even fuller than mine", I say.

"Yeah. It feels pretty hectic adjusting to the influx of tourists, no matter how many summers I spend at the brewery."

Reyfon comes from a family of artisans- brewers. While I haven't particularly missed him, I have missed the free beer. I look down and sure enough, I see one of the reasons why I always graciously pardon his intrusions into my home. "Oh", he says, lifting up the paper bag once he notices my eyes have locked on it. "Here."

I immediately take it, put it on the table, and unpack the assortment of pricey drinks, darks, lights, ales, ambers, et cetera. Needless to say, I'm very pleased. "Thanks", I say, then pause. "I suppose you want me to thank you some other way as well."

Reyfon smirks and nods. I'll have to help him again. "You know my father's health has been declining", he begins.

"Yeah."

"More and more of the responsibilities for the business have come down to me, my older brother, and kid sister." Then he scoffs, "Well, mostly me and Veralia. Yet, according to the tradition of favoring the eldest, the one to inherit the brewery will be Theorion. You know my brother, arrogant and lazy, and worse, incompetent and irresponsible. It wouldn't 100% be up to him even if he were the owner, but with enough poor decisions and investments, he could end up making a mess of generations of our family's hard work. So please, help rid us of this pest."

I grow tense, and hold up my hand. "Hold on. This sounds pretty serious. Knocking off some poor scrubs from the west side of hick town is simple, something nobody cares too much about. But now you're asking me to help kill the heir of a wealthy business. Everyone knows you guys around here, and whatever happens to him, it will thoroughly investigated."

"I know it's too much to ask as a friend, so on my word, you will be compensated generously", Reyfon says.

So far, I'm not too keen on this, but that word, "generously" hangs in the air tantalizingly.

"Do you even have a plan yet?", I ask.

"I was hoping you could take care of everything on that front. Of course, though, I'll provide whatever inside info you might need."

"I'm taking a huge risk here, hitting such a prominent target, but how much would you be willing to give me for this?"

"How does 10,000 buckaroos sound?"

"Nice try. This could break my life, so I need enough money to make it if this goes well. 20,000 buckaroos."

Reyfon cringes a little, but says, "Okay. I'll pay you after it's done."

I frown. "You think you're the one of us who trusts the other less? Who's at the other's mercy? You'll pay me before, or there's no way I'm doing shit."

"Hey, it doesn't have to be like that", he says. "How about a compromise? I pay 10,000 upfront, and the other half after it's done."

"15,000 up front."

"Fine. So you'll do it, then?"

I pause for a moment. "Yeah."

"Great", Reyfon says with a small smile, sighing in relief, as if assassinating his brother were an innocent request like any other. "I should be going then. Enjoy the brews. This could earn you a lifetime supply, Beriphitar."

With that, he left, leaving me standing, trying to keep myself from slowly being overwhelmed by what the fuck I'd just agreed to do. Nothing was set it writing. I could still back out, but I feel that that would be unacceptable for me. But then I get another idea. If I'm going to do something like this, if I'm going to take this kind of risk, might as well go all out. It seems like Reyfon can pay me, easily, whenever this gets done. That makes me suspect that the Greyhorns have a lot of cash sitting around.

The next day, Reyfon meets me at my house again. He answers all my questions not only without hesitation, but with enthusiasm. As far as he is concerned, we're in the process of turning his scheme into reality. At the end, I know the schedules of the inhabitants of the house, their maids, and Reyfon even gives me a detailed map of the layout of the house when I ask where his brother's bedroom is.

For better or worse, Reyfon decides that he should be out during the assassination. Actually, it's for the better.

The next night, I lie on my stomach in the dark, rich carpet soft against my chin. Reyfon graciously left the back door unlocked after he left this evening. I came in, went up two flights of stairs to Theorion's room, or chambers if you will, because it's like a whole pad in here- a big personal bathroom, dining and sitting area, and bedroom. I've been camped under his bed for like two hours, waiting for him to come back, hopefully alone.

I snap into tenseness when I hear whoozy female giggling and a good mooded, but douchey male voice approaching. Figures a fuckboy would be bringing a girl back with him. No matter. I prepared for the possibility of having to dispatch multiple targets quickly and silently, but maybe I should've hidden in the closet. Getting out is going to be awkward.

The door opens. "I wanna see that awesome shower you were telling me about!" The girl says. Theorion replies, "Yeah, well how about I give you a tour?" Their flirty tone and words are obviously telling of plans for a shower fuck, a way to bang that's highly overrated in the movies, but pretty good for me now.

Once they've rather stupidly sexy walked into the bathroom while swaying and groping, I start slipping out from under the bed. The bathroom is further down the wall, to my left. They left the door open, but cannot see me as I siddle along the wall towards it. Before they get in, or even have a chance to scream, I've swung out into the doorway, and fired a shot from my silenced pistol.

The pop goes off, and a bullet zips through the air, hitting its marks with beautiful precision. You see, I caught the love birds in a smooch, the guy's back to me. The bullet punches through the back of his head, and then tears through the front of hers. The blood and matter of two brains splatter, making a rather jarring contrast against the clean white and beige rugs, marble floor, and counter. I doubt very much that those were the kind of fluids they were planning on exchanging tonight.

I look up from their toppled bodies, and damn, that shower is pretty awesome. It's massive for one, and.. ah fuck it; this is not what I'm here for. I walk over to them. They'd make a pretty cute couple, just, not exactly like this. I shuffle through the guy's pockets and pull out his wallet. Very nice. The girl doesn't have anything worthwhile in her skirt pockets, but she's got something in the skirt.

According to Reyfon's info, I should have plenty of time. His sister's out having drinks with friends. His dad is emaciating in the hospital, and his mom is dead. So, I decide to help myself to what Theorion was about to have anyway. I brush the girl's wavy brown hair out of her face. It's sticky with the blood that's pouring out of the hole in her head and dripping down her face. Her hazel eyes are closed, her face didn't have time to contort into horror or surprise, so it's stranglely peaceful despite her undue and random end. She was pretty, well is, for all intents and purposes at the moment.

Ugh, it's like stripping a hundred pound sack of meat. Actually, it's exactly that. The human body is really a pain to move when it's dead weight. Getting my own clothes off only takes like 10 seconds. I stand buck naked in the bathroom with two dead bodies. I was mocking it earlier, but I drag the girl into the walk in shower anyway. I turn it on and warm water sprays from a marble seal's mouth. I flop the chick over the marble shower seat, kneel, and start pumping her from behind. It's only been minutes since she died, so her vag is still very warm.

Once I finish enjoying myself, I turn the shower off, dry myself with a towel, and get dressed again. I check my watch. It's only been 15 minutes since I killed Reyfon's older brother and his squeeze. My head is wonky. I can't remember whether I was supposed to leave the bodies or dispose of them.

I rush back over to the bed, and pull out the three bags that I brought with me. I pillage the house, rummaging through drawers, closets, and cabinets favoring speed only slightly more than precision. My last stop ends up being Reyfon's chambers. My 3rd bag is still empty.

After swiping a couple of snazzy watches and 200 buckaroos from around his room, I check under his bed. Sure enough, there are a couple of chests. They're locked, but I prepared for this. After being pried open with my crowbar, the chests reveal their treasure.

In one of them are various trinkets, an old scarf, a few journals, letters, papers- it seems to be a bunch of sentimentals mixed with important documents. The other contains cash, likely a lot of the money Reyfon was planning on paying to me. Upon looking through the bills appreciatively, something beneath the neatly bundled stacks catches my eye- five gold bars curtained beneath. Oh, I love this boy.

I pack the remaining bag, and just for the heck of it, I throw one of Reyfon's personal journals in. I never considered myself the gossipy sort, but who doesn't find it at least a little entertaining to stumble across the juicy secrets of someone they know? I sling my booty over my shoulders, make sure my mask is in place, and head on out of the house. Trusty Rusty is parked a block away.

I mount the scooter and buzz away into the temperate night. First thing I'll do later is buy a new bike, and a car too. This thing has been reliable, and I know how to fix it up, but I could have to make some serious distance, and I can already feel it slowing beneath me under the weight of my goods.

Reyfon plans to head back into his house, find the horrific scene and call the police. He plans to give an account, enjoy the sympathies, gifts and attention he will get as the victim of such a horrific tragedy, and prosper from here on out as the head of the brewery.

I park my bike at the dirt strip around the back of my little house called the backyard. I dip inside to drop off the bags, clean up, and change clothes. Taking my crowbar with me. Reyfon is hanging around a bar in town. I'm supposed to make an appearance there, so he knows that it has been done, but we're not to interact.

When I enter, he notices me immediately. He's probably been watching the door, scanning every patron that comes in. He turns back to his beer as soon as he sees who it is. Reyfon's eyes are clear; he's likely just been nursing that one drink this whole time. If he was gonna come to the bar as an alibi, then he should've at least made an effort to appear more casual about it, and maybe have brought a friend, and had a good time.

Thankfully, this bar also serves food. So while Reyfon is paying, I order a cheese sandwich and have them put it in paper lunch bag for me. I can leave shortly after he does, without looking too weird for not staying and drinking. I tail behind him as he walks down the street. I can tell he's nervous by the way his glasses constantly seem to need readjusting, and the paranoid glances back that I have to keep dodging.

He veers off eventually, into the shortcut through a patch woods that leads to the backyard of his family's mansion. It's here that I pounce. I remove the crowbar from my toolbelt rush forward. I hear him gasp at the sudden sound of feet rushing towards him. The crowbar hits just as his head finishes swiveling around, and his eyes see his attacker. After the big, dull thud he crumples to the ground, twitching a bit, but barely conscious.

As I bash his skull in, a few thoughts will pass through his brain before it mashes, asking why I've betrayed him. The answer? We are living in a material world, and I am a material boy. Hey, you wanna hear another quote? "People work together when it suits 'em. They're loyal when it suits 'em, love each other when it suits 'em, and they kill each other when it suits 'em." I get it, he didn't. And that's why he couldn't hold onto his life.

Reyfon's blood splatters onto my tattered beige work pants. After I finish and catch my breath, I observe. The face of the only person I ever really hung out with has been crushed into a bloody pulp of flesh that looks like fresh ground beef and bone chips. Frgaments of glass and pieces of the black frame from the young man's familiar glasses are mushed into the mess.

Something must be wrong with me to have such a compulsion, but my dick was out, hard, and being rubbed by my hand before I processed what was happening. My hand.. it's slippery with his blood, and it feels so good like this. I pleasure myself, looking down blankly at the battered corpse, lying on its stomach. I probably wouldn't even be able to tell that it was him if I found him like this.

My white, hot cum bursts forth onto the ground between his legs. I sigh and put my penis away, slightly dizzy from all the exertion of today. Brown leather peeks out from the back pocket of his blue jeans. Like an idiot, he kept his wallet there. I slip it out, take his cash, then throw the wallet onto his body.

I walk back home, mostly through the woods so as to be seen as little as possible. I pack one small bag with a few clothes and hygienics. Four bags carried by one guy on a scooter is pushing it, but I want to leave town right now. Then I realize while packing how suspicious all of this looks. Three members of a rich family in a small town are gruesomely murdered, and the house is robbed.

And me, I suddenly skip town, abandoning my drug business, my house, and my land. Where did I get the money to up and leave all of the sudden, and why would I do that on the night of the murders? I should stay, hide the stolen stuff, and wait out the investigation for a couple weeks to a month. Before leaving, I should tell a few people,

"This town is just getting worse by the year. We've had scuffles in the trailerpark and occasional killings among druggies, but for something like this to happen to the Greyhorns... Even I worry. And Reyfon and I, you know, we went back a few years."

Yeah, something like that should be good. It doesn't come across as too on the nose, and it foreshadows my leaving. Others will leave too after this, I'm sure, because the kind of violence that occurred tonight isn't often heard of here. It'll shake folks, myself included, heh.

So if some gumshoe finds their way around to asking about me, like, "That dealer Beriphitar was a friend of the youngest son's wasn't he? He left soon after, didn't he?" the downtown scrubs will answer, "Looks like even he got worried. He was racking up a little that might'a been worth stealin' himself ya know. Not so tough, just a boy trying to carve out a living in a town that turned out to be rougher than he was ready for."

With that, I put my clothes back. I put the bags of stolen money and valuables into plastic trash bags, then take then out to my garden- on foot mind you, because the noise of the scooter at this hour would an overly obvious deviation from my usual routine.

There would be nothing strange about overturned soil in a garden, especially not with fresh crops on top. When I'm done, the bags are safely hidden under about a foot of dirt. Just so you know, the lawmen won't want to tear this place up anyway because of the drugs. What I'm doing is perfectly legal here.

By the time I get back home, it's the middle of the night. That girl seems even hotter now that I'm remembering her in my tiny shower. My tired brain spins a fantasy of her, Reyfon, and Theorion. Reyfon is sandwiched in the middle, Theorion plowing his dirty asshole from behind while he penetrates the girl's dripping pussy. The three move harder and faster, until the illusion comes to its climax, and my jizz sprays the shower wall.

"Sandwiched" though, that word reminds me that I have a perfect good cheese sandwich just left on the counter. I eat it on the way to bed, and then sleep sweetly. With the day that I had, I'm not sure if I'd be able to tell dream from memory.

I wake up to birds chirping, a sour mouth, and the pleasant brightness that comes from having one's home so close to nature. Then I smile little, when I think of the chaos that must be unfolding uptown. Lawmen like buzzards circling my crime scene, Veralia, distraught, shocked, and hungover, and Reyfon's father- I wonder if the news has made it to his hospital bed? At this point, they might as well spare the old man and let him die in peace if possible.

I climb out of bed, have one of the craft beers that Reyfon gave me for breakfast, and then brush my teeth. Over the next two weeks, I follow my plans. I attend the Greyhorn funerals, tell a few people that I'm thinking about leaving town, and sell my land and house.

The lawmen took me aside once to ask me questions. "Did you see anyone strange around town?" et cetera. My answer was simply, "No Sir."

On the day that I was packing my bags again to get on Trusty Rusty and leave town, a beautiful gift delivered herself right to my door. It was Veralia, Reyfon's suffering brunette sister who'd been becoming increasingly irresistable to me the more I saw of her.

Her entire immediate family was either dead, murdered, or dying. It had become unthinkable for her to even stay in her own house; the emptiness and the memories of what had happened, of what she'd seen there, were too much. I heard she currently lived with an aunt in the next town over, so imagine my surprise to see her at my hovel.

Her eyes were sunken, though puffy from what could have been her hundreth bout of tears, and filled with pain. She looked lost, like so many others who'd come to me, and I so then I knew why she was here. She had to find something good in her overwhelming plight.

"I know", she began quietly and not meeting my eyes, "That my brother used to buy leaves and stuff from you." She dug into her pockets and pulled out some crumpled bills. Veralia stretched the money out to me. "Yes", I said softly and with an air of consideration. "I was closing down shop, but please, come in and you can select what you want from what I still have."

There's hardly any stock remaining, since I lowered prices and had been doing a lot of peddling to get it off my hands,but I'm glad I left some. Turns out, Veralia doesn't know a cow from a cat when it comes to drugs, so when I show her my stuff she just says, "I don't know. Just give me something to... stop it." Her face twitches like she's going to collapse into tears, but she holds back.

Her ignorance doesn't matter anyway, because I was partially lying about the effects and the types of drugs anyway. I dope her up as she asks. The drugs take her mind to another world, while I take her body. She moans and pushes me away weakly, but she barely knows what's going on, and she sure won't remember any of this. I strip off her clothes and pound her. I finger her, stick my dick in her slit and her mouth, and rub it against her thighs, pussy and then her asshole before fucking that too. I roughly grope her breasts, then use her vag to finish, shoving my dick in harder and harder, faster and faster, until she wimpers a little even in her drugged state.

Once I get off, she just lays on my living room carpet by the coffee table, almost completely out of it. I think I'll relax for a while before redressing her, but upon having another look at her perky pair of tits and tight pussy soaked with my semen, I decide I'll have a second helping.

I turn her over and splay her legs before me again, completely exposing her genitals to my salacious gaze. I rub her privates, and roughly violate her asshole with two and then three of my fingers. I push my penis inside her body again. She moans sleepily and her hands reach up to swat around above her as I continue raping her- sometimes anally, sometimes vaginally. Her vision is blurry, I know, so she can hardly see me. Veralia's confused, and I feel her thighs pressing up against my hands as she makes makes feeble attempts to close her legs. I come all over her genitalia and asshole.

I wipe her up and put her clothes back on. I finish packing as I was before she came, hop on my scooter, and leave town. Buzzing down the roads to the north, cool wind blowing at my hair and jacket, cargo over my shoulders- I must say I've never felt this free in my life. I've done just as I've pleased, and now I have thousands of buckaroos in cash, gold, and valuables, and a new life of ahead. Life has finally gone my way.

I'm living my own dream as my own man.

#violent #story #crime spree

1 note · View note

beepbeeprichiellc · 6 years

Text

Part 1. Part 2.

His breath was fogging up the glass, his fingers leaving smudges along the smooth surface. The housekeeper was going to have a fit when she saw what he had done, he knew this and yet all he could focus on was the two standing on the front lawn. The thing about Beverly was that she was the perfect wing man-woman-whatever. She always knew the exact way to flaunt what he had as to weed out those suitable for her friends. It was how Richie almost always got laid, excluding for drunken one nighters he occasionally ended up in. When he answered her call he hadn’t expected her to show, knowing that she was recovering from her late night fly in so when she walked onto his property with those short shorts and tank top he knew she was out to kill. Although the look on the pool boy’s face when she advanced told him that he wasn’t falling for her tricks and Richie was afraid he would see right though the shamble.

The truck with chipped paint pulled from the curb, carrying with it his new pool boy. Richie watched it leave, discreetly using the sheer drapes to keep himself hidden. Once the tail lights were around the corner he sighed, banging his head loudly on the glass. There was a gnawing in his stomach, an unimaginable feeling that he wished to just go away. Maybe it was because he hadn’t been laid in over three months, or maybe it was because just the sight the boy made him a blubbering mess but he felt restless.

There was a bang from the back door and Richie nearly ran over to where Beverly stood, her cheeks flushed from the heat. Stopping short of jumping in to his arms he leaned against the countertop, biting his bottom lip nervously. “So?” He sang, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“He’s gay.” She answered, knowing the question without verbal confirmation. “Didn’t even bat an eye when I asked for his number.”

“Hot damn!” Richie nearly yelled in excitement. “Thank god for the little things.”

“Honestly, I don’t think you two would work.” Beverly admitted softly, pulling her sunglasses from her nose and burying them into her hair. There was a twinkle in her eye, like something was brewing in her head. “I mean, he’s just here for the summer and-”

“Well so am I. I’m not looking for a relationship Bevvy, just someone to get dirty with while I’m home.” Richie rolled his eyes, a sly grin stretching from ear to ear. “Don’t dangle him in my face and expect me not to bite.”

“I’m not danling anything in your face.” She nipped, snapping her fingers in his direction. “I just think he isn’t your type. He was all worried about your dad, about his job. He’s a straight shooter and I don’t think you’ll be able to bend him like you want.”

“Okay first off.” He muttered, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he looked at his friend amusingly, “He’s gay, so he isn’t a ‘straight’ shooter. Secondly, I’m not gonna bend him unless that’s the way he likes it. I mean I’d like to bend him over a lot of things like that chair or the counter or-”

“Okay fine!” She barked, rubbing the space between her eyes. “Fine, just stop putting that very vivid image in my head.” Glancing back up to her friend she smiled, sighing with contentment as she leaned into the door frame with her hip leading. “You can be so disgusting sometimes, remind me why we are friends again?”

“Because we are the black sheep in our families and that causes us to gravitate towards each other.” He mouthed back quickly, pursing his lips and blowing a very suggestive kiss. “Now tell me, what is that cutie’s name?”

“Eddie.”

“Eddie.” He whispered, the name making his lips tingle. It tasted sour, not the type of sourness that made you cringe but rather the sourness that left your mouth watering, making you beg for more. Richie smiled, running his long nimble fingers through the rats nest he called hair, wincing when he caught a few knots. “Even his name is sexy as hell.”

Beverly scoffed, pushing herself upward and strolling past him with a slight push. “Get dressed.” She commanded, not looking back at him as she began her rampage through his parents fridge. “And hurry up because we have to pick up Bill along the way.”

“Where are we going?” He asked, shamelessly watching his best friend bend over to reach a soda from the bottom self. There was no spark, no need when he looked at her backside but rather a respectable appreciation of its glory.

Slamming the fridge door she replied, “To the beach.”

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

Eddie laid his back on his board, looking up at the clouded sky with fondness. Things began to cool as the storm rolled in, the blueness becoming overpowered by the grey puffs of condensation. He wondered what it would be like to be caught in a storm, really caught under the sheets of rain. There had been glory stories told about surfing during a summer storm and anyone who was everyone knew that it was the best time for such a thing. Stan had done it once, Mike twice but he still had yet to live through the glory. He was afraid, just like he always was, tucking tail and running before the real masterpiece touched down.

Maybe someday.

But not today.

“Well this turned out to be a shitty day.” Stan’s stoic voice came from across the still water. “I skipped my hot yoga class for this?”

“Remind me why you take hot yoga again?” Mike jeered, laughter following his question. “Isn’t that uncomfortable?”

“It’s freeing.” He nipped, splashing water over to where Mike was currently floating. “And like you are one to talk, you are majoring in history! Who fucking does that!”

Eddie smiled, enjoying the banter that followed. It had only been a few days and yet he felt more free here than he would have back at home. When Mike had brought up the idea of the three of them heading to the coast at the end of semester, he had been against it. Too many people, to many unpredictable variables. It took one very long, uncomfortable phone call from his mother to change his mind and even then he had only done it out of spite. Now he was floating in the Pacific Ocean with his two best friends without a care in the world.

“I think we should head in.” Mike’s reassuring voice suggested, making Eddie cringe. “The storm is going to hit soon and the last thing I need is another concussion from surfing.”

“Yeah, and I don’t feel like saving you guys when you drown.” Stan added, turning his board back to the mainland. “I say we head back to the house and order some paper view, maybe some pizza in the process.”

“Both of those things involve money, which mind you, we do not have.”

With a sigh Eddie sat up, looking at his friends with a frown. “You know it’s Stan’s job to be a downer right Mikey?” He joked, starting the long ride in. This made his friend laugh, muttering under his breath that he was just a realist. Once the touched sand Eddie’s stomach sank, the fleeting opportunity passing by him. He dug his feet in, wiggling his toes one last time before stepping out of the salty water. Looking once more to the sky he muttered, “Do you think it’s really gonna rain?”

“Na.” Stan replied, walking ahead towards the parking lot. “I think this place is fucking with us. Our first time out on the water and it’s gonna trick us back to shore.”

“Huh.” Eddie thought it seemed likely, even more so as the so as the sun peered through a storm cloud. “Well that sucks.”

“Life sucks my man.” Mike said, throwing his board on top of his truck. “Don’t worry, we can try tomorrow once you get off.”

This made Eddie shrug, half assuming that he would be fired by tomorrow anyways so why even care about it. The three of them had strapped their things in, taking time to adjust as needed so that the truck would actually make it back home. Eddie had been so busy that he hadn’t noticed the company he had gained, or the eyes that followed him with each move. It was Stan who noticed her, scowling as she approached. “Eddie, I think you've attracted a stray.” He groaned.

“Wha-”

“Eddie!” Beverly’s excitable voice called, her smile widening as she and two others moved closer. “Fancy meeting you here!”

Eddie froze, his body refusing to react as she pulled him into a awkward, one sided hug. Shimmying he was able to drop her hold, forcing a laugh. “Uh hI Beverly. What are you doing here.” He glanced behind her, noticing the Tozier boy who now wore a pair of khaki shorts, a god awful hawaiian shirt and-jesus christ-a pair of bright pink sandals. It seemed that Richie was more confident in person, his eyes bright and exuberant as he watched the exchange. There was also a normal looking boy with soft brown hair and a soft smile, being almost the exact opposite of his friend that stood beside him. “Are you following me?”

“What? No!” She pushed against his shoulder playfully, “The beach sounded like a good place to be so I decided to come down here with some of my friends, same as you.”

He was being stalked, Eddie just knew it.

“Hi, I’m Mike.” The kind hearted boy muttered, breaking the tension and extending his hand out to the rich girl. “And this is Stan.” He gestured to the unamused boy. “How do you know Eddie?”

Beverly smiled, taking hold of Mike’s hand and shaking it. “We met this morning, he was working on Richie’s lawn when I came over.”

“Ah, leave it to Eddie to make new friends on the first day in town.” Mike jokes, laughing at his friends expense. “So you’re Beverly, who are these two?”

“Oh! This is Bill.” She motioned to the calmer of the two, “And Richie himself.” The jumpy kid waved, a cheeky smile crossing his face instantly. “So you guys are new in town huh? Where are you staying?”

“Oh in my parents old beach house down the street. It’s not much but it’s a roof over our heads.” Eddie frowned, he liked the cozy home. It felt safe, and warm to him. More so than his own home back in Derry. “What are you guys from the upper east side or something?”

“Yep.” Beverly replied, “Hey since you guys are new why don’t we show you around. You have no idea where the good hanging spots are yet and there is a bar a few blacks down that has the best mixed drinks. What do you say? First round on me.” Eddie could not have been shaking his head any more, his ears ringing painfully as Mike replied for all of them with a genuine smile.

“Sounds fun.”

Pool Boy Eddie Tag:

@softuris @snooxyspazz @ihavesympathyforthedevil @reddieornox @addimagination @tozierbinch @loadsofgayy @helfeatencupquakes @pankoozie @moved-to-some-raging-fangirl @strangerl0ser @letsgetreddietorumble @oh-mayfield @superbcoffeekid @iamworried7 @ephemeral-elipisis @stan-tozier-denbrough @im-alover @tapetayloe

#poolboy!eddie #it #it au #reddie #only tagging requests #not a full fic #just a blurb #idk small and easy #inbetween the others #enjoy loves

133 notes · View notes

lids-flutter-open · 6 years

Text

James orsino -goth gay YA ch 5

“Hey,” Orsino said. He was smiling at me. “Nice to see you. James, right?”

“And you’re Orsino.”

“I’m Robin,” said a girl with good skin and short hair in a flat-top. She looked like a panel from a 1980s lesbian comic. “I’m Orsino’s sister.”

“Hi,” I said. “Does anyone want weed?”

They did. We smoked and January talked to Ian. I didn’t get all of what they said, but Ian was glowing. Overhead the trees dropped a few leaves and some of the pine needles from the scrubby little pine tree by the house blew over the yard and into the bonfire, sparking as they went. There were at least fifty people at the show. Probably more, inside the house and around in front where they weren’t meant to be. People were slowly trickling back around the edges of the show space in the garage, waiting for the temperature inside to finally get cool enough to repopulate.

“So are you from around here?” I asked Orsino. “Or where?” I had given him a joint I’d rolled earlier and been carrying around in my cigarette case. He coughed a lot as he smoked.

“Down south about an hour,” Orsino said. “Near Centralia, kind of. But most of the time lately I live up in Tacoma with Robin and January. My dad owns some cows and a chicken farm and my mom is always fighting with him and it’s bad to be around. You?”

“I’m from here,” I said. “I’m in high school. One of the ones near the farms. It’s all rednecks. No gays really.”

“You go to that Compton House thing?” Orsino asked. “I know that’s like, a big thing for gay kids here. My therapist was trying to get me to go since I didn’t like the trans group in Tacoma.”

“I go,” I said. “I’m on the Speakers’ Bureau doing sex education at schools and public organizations and stuff.”

“Oh,” Orsino said. He waggled his eyebrows. “You know a lot about sex then?” He exhaled some of the smoke from his joint into my face and smiled.

“In the public health sense, anyway,” I said. “I know where to get condoms and free dental dams.” I paused. I really wanted to say something flirtatious, but wasn’t sure what to start with. “And I know from Delaney and Genet and White for the rest, though who knows what I’m missing in that sense.” I could feel my hands reach up and touch the bad little patch of stubble on my neck. I wished there was a mirror or a dark window around I could glance into to make sure I didn’t look like a fool. I crossed my legs and turned more towards Orsino.

“Don’t know who those guys are,” Orsino smirked. His eyes were really dark brown and the firelight was sort of reflected there. I couldn’t tell if he was making fun of me for the references or making fun of me for doing sex education as a teenager like some kind of Young Democrat. I didn’t know his vibe enough to tell.

“They’re all older. Delaney’s the one you’re supposed to read, I’m pretty sure,” I said. “Or at least, he’s the one most likely to have been read by hot people, from what I can tell.”

“Oh, it’s a book,” said Orsino.

“He’s an author,” I said. “Samuel Delaney. Chip Delaney. Time Square Red, Time Square Blue. Science fiction and sexy gay memoir. Never mind. I’m stoned. I’m sorry.”

“He writes about sex and taught you sex, is what you’re saying.”

“Yeah.”

“Does he write about like specific kinks you were trying to communicate to me or something?”

I felt my face grow hot. “Public bathrooms,” I said. “Is one thing he’s very into. Not that I am. Unless you are. But that’s not—it’s just his prose.”

“Do you always give a … what’s it called. A bibliography. Do you always do that when someone asks you about sex?”

“Do you always ask boys about sex two seconds after meeting them?”

“Only when they’re hot,” Orsino said. “Then yeah, I do. Sorry, I can’t read social cues well. Was that out of line?”

“No.”

“You didn’t answer the question. You go around give out bibliographies about sex? Like that pink hair lady who draws that weird comic about sex toys online?”

“You’re the one named fucking Orsino,” I said. “Literary references are something you signed up for.” I took a hit from my pipe. I was starting to feel slightly more comfortable, but it wasn’t happening fast enough. I glanced at Orsino’s hands. The nails were short. His pinky nail on his left hand was painted black but none of the other fingernails were. There was a little stick-and-poke of a rabbit on the back of his right hand.

“Maybe I should change it,” he said. “To something butch. I can be Harry. Or Brandon.”

“A trade name,” I said.

“A farm boy name.”

“Brandon is a G.O.P candidate name.”

“Now that’s trade.”

“What music do you like, Brandon?”

“Well, I’m here. OVID’s good. January can be a bitch a little bit, but it’s good music. And I like Dyke Drama and G.L.O.S.S, obviously. And LOONE. But also Mitski. And Blood Kennel and Limp Wrist and Dick Binge. But I also like The Shins.”

“My dad likes The Shins,” I said. “I have like a gag reflex about The Shins.” I could hear my voice, catty and faggy. “They’re such a dad band. How old are you, anyway?”

“Eighteen,” Orsino said.

“Okay. Well, for an eighteen-year-old you sure like dad bands.”

“It’s good music,” Orsino said. “You gotta listen to the lyrics. What about you?”

“I only listen to Ariana Grande,” I said, smirking at him stupidly and fluttering my eyelashes. I might have been being dumb, but he was still smiling at me, so I wanted to try being bolder. “And Gaga. I literally only listen to Just Dance by Lady Gaga and Pete Davidson by Ariana Grande every single day of my life. On repeat. I hate punk music.”

“Oh, really,” Orsino said in a flat-affect kind of voice. “You must be having a really interesting time here tonight then.”

“It’s really funny music,” I said. “And nobody is wearing platform boots or a rainbow pin or jewels or teal hair or anything.”

“I saw someone with teal hair,” Orsino said.

“That was me, actually. Earlier. I came with teal hair and an Ariana Grande tour shirt and changed.”

“Oh really,” Orsino said. He made eye contact with me and then slowly reached out and pulled at one of my curls. “I like what you’ve done with your hair since then. Insta-dye job to black. Insta-goth. It’s a really cute haircut on you, actually.”

“Thanks. I did it in the bathroom sink,” I said. “Just now. Using charcoal from the fire. I thought, oh no, everyone has dark hair or bad orangey dry bleach jobs. I have to fit in.”

“You’re doing good and blending in,” Orsino said. He finished the joint and ground out the end in the dirt under the stump. “Wait. Did you just neg me for my bleach job?”

I felt my face fall. “What?”

“You said bad bleach jobs and looked at my hair. Were you making fun of me for my bleach job? You know, negging me? I know it’s all dry forest fire thatch up here.”

“I guess I did,” I said. I looked at his hair and back at his eyes.

“Didn’t expect you to be acting like a straight English major goth at a sorority party over here,” Orsino said. “Calling all the girls ugly cause you think it’ll make them like you.”

I swallowed. “You’re right. That was cruel of me. I made fun of your name, earlier, too, and that was wrong. I shouldn’t be mean to cute boys.”

“And my music taste.”

“That’s just a difference of opinion.”

Orsino looked at me like a cat playing with a mouse, but in a friendly way. “You were very cruel about my hair, though. I feel so small.”

“Sorry. It’s a bad habit. You can do two negs for me now. Tell me I’m ugly so you can hit on me better.”

“Hm,” Orsino said. He swung one hairy leg over the stump so half of him was in shadow under the trees and his right foot was nestled in the ivy and broken glass that lay all along the perimeter of the Goat Mansion yard. “Well, you aren’t ugly, so I can’t do exactly that. Maybe I want to save my negs. Find your weak spots and then go in for the kill.”

“I’m shaking,” I said.

“Okay. I have one. My first one is that your mustache sucks. It’s like really cute that you’re trying it and I know what you’re going for, and the concept is attractive to me, and I like your philtrum, but it’s a bad mustache.”

“Ooh. Ouch. That stings,” I said. “I think it stings more because of all the compliments you threw in with it to cushion it.” But I scooted closer to him.

“I can do more.” He looked at me hard. “If you consent. I can be meaner about it.”

“About my mustache? Okay,” I said. “But I might be hurt and never speak to you again.”

“You’re trying to look like Freddie Mercury or something, right? You look like a summer camp counselor from the 1980s.”

“Ouch! You sure snatched my wig.” I put on a faggy voice. It kind of did sting to hear him say that, though also I knew that my mustache amounted to about twenty-four downy bad little hairs. But I guess I deserved it.

“See how it feels?” Orsino scooted a little closer. I found myself appreciating how broad his shoulders and torso were compared to mine. I looked at his smile. His canines were a little crooked.

“I actually am a summer camp counselor,” I said. “During the summer.”

“I’m Sherlock Holmes.”

“I can give you another weak spot,” I said. “I’m a nerd and I used to be a horse girl. Got any horse related disses?”

“It doesn’t count if you give them to me. That’s a self defense maneuver. Also I don’t know if you’re even telling the truth. It’s gotta be something you’re sensitive about.”

“Are you sensitive about your hair and your name?”

“Yes! I’m a punk. My image is very important to me. Talking shit on my hair was mean. You started this whole battle.”

“Okay, fine. I’m sorry already. But give me time to recover from your first cutting remark before you do any more to me.” I put away my pipe. I glanced briefly over at Ian. Jukebox had left and now he was talking to Opal and Robin a few feet away. I felt like socially I was obligated to join their shit instead of sitting here talking to this boy I didn’t really know yet. At least so I could be up on the whole deal with Miss San Juan and the Dusties or whatever the new band was called. “Do you want to meet my friends?” I asked Orsino, standing.

“Sure,” he said. He pulled himself up. “Hey, you’re not really hurt about the mustache thing, right?” He wasn’t smiling as much any more. “I was just playing around. Your mustache is fine. It looks like every other high school punk’s mustache. Better than some. Better than mine. And you’re cute. You pull it off pretty good.”

I realized he thought he had misstepped and now I’d lost interest. I felt a flutter in my stomach.

“It’s a really sensitive topic for me because of my gender dysphoria,” I said in a deadpan voice. I walked over to Ian and Opal and Robin.

Orsino followed me, squinting a little as if he couldn’t tell if I was joking. He put his thumbs into the belt loops of his pants.“Are you serious?” He asked. "I’m sorry, I…”

“I won’t ever forgive you. Hey, meet my friends. Here are my friends Opal and Ian, who I guess have a band now.”

Ian paused. He had been saying something to Robin about some music stuff. I wasn’t sure what equipment they were talking about but it had hertz. He looked over to Orsino and then me and raised his eyebrows.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m Miss San Juan, otherwise known as Ian. You saw me set up and then saw my set just now. You were jumping. Didn’t get your name.”

“I was indeed jumping,” Orsino said. “It was a pretty good show for how messy it seemed like things were before it started. You did good. You have a great stage presence. I’m Orsino.” He held out his hand, arcing his arm out for a man-handshake.

Ian placed his delicate little hand in Orsino’s big one like a princess greeting her security guard. “Pleased to meet you.”

“I’m Orsino,” Orsino said again to Opal, holding out his hand again. For the first time I realized he was maybe kind of too stoned.

“I’m Opal,” said Opal. “I’m a drummer and use they/them pronouns and I’m really hungry for some trash food right now. Does anyone else want food?” They looked at me and then at Orsino. “You both look like you want some trash food.”

“Fuck yeah,” Orsino said. “Do we know when the next show starts, though?”

“There’s the gas station that doesn’t sell beer around the corner that way,” Opal said. “They have chips and sometimes hot dogs and pizza. We’ll be quick.”

“Let’s go,” Orsino said. He put his arm around my shoulders and set off toward the edge of the yard as if we had been walking together like that everywhere for years, as if he had touched me before.

“I don’t think I want food right now,” Ian said. “I’ll stay here.” He had a sort of quiet, wan tone in his voice that made me pause.

“Oh,” I said, and dug my feet into the ground to stop and pulled away from Orsino’s arm. I looked from Orsino to Ian. I didn’t want to leave Ian standing here alone right after his big set. “Ian, are you sure? You’ll need calories in a little bit.”

“I just feel like standing and smoking for a second in the quiet over here by the fence,” Ian said.

“Quieter out by the gas station,” I said.

“I don’t feel like walking.”

“I’ll stay here too then,” I said.

“I’m still going,” Orsino said. “I’m genuinely hungry.”

“Come on, then, big papa,” Opal said. “Let’s get some cheese fuel.” They turned their chair and wheeled fairly rapidly across the grass.

#james and orsino #long text #long post #writing #goth gay ya #trans #lgbt

3 notes · View notes

chasholidays · 6 years

Note

Thanks for doing this again!! I'd love to read a Dancing with the Stars Bellarke AU if possible!!

The nice thing Clarke has found about Dancing with the Stars is that, as a general rule, the less she likes her celebrity partner, the sooner she’ll be eliminated.

It’s not a purposeful thing; she always does her best with every season, she’s way too competitive to not. But it tends to be hard, to work with people she dislikes, as the root cause of her dislike is generally that they won’t fucking listen to her. When she goes out early, it’s almost because her stupid celebrity refuses to listen to her or thinks she’s too harsh or the dance is too hard. It’s not like she usually gets to know them on any deep level; they spend a few weeks together in a surreal environment, and then she never sees them again.

Finn Collins, though. Finn Collins is new.

“You could just break one of his legs,” Bellamy suggests. They’re getting drinks and Bellamy is mocking her because while Ontari is something of a nightmare, she’s at least an expected kind of nightmare. She’s a controlling former actress who wants this to reboot her career and thinks Bellamy is there to serve her, not teach her. It sucks, but they’ve all dealt with that before. “Like, casually.”

Clarke snorts. “What’s the casual way to break someone’s legs? Ski mask and a tire iron?”

“I was thinking you just trip and fall and get him with your knee as you go down, but if you’ve got a ski mask and a tire iron–”

She elbows him. “Seriously, I’m worried that if he gets to the final he’s going to propose or something. Just to get audience votes.”

“That is how he got famous, right? Deciding he was going to marry a woman he barely knew?”

“If he tries to give me a rose I actually will break one of his legs,” she grumbles, and Bellamy laughs.

Finn’s not the first “star” to make it on the program because of his experience in reality TV, but Clarke will admit she finds him one of the least impressive. He went on The Bachelor despite, apparently, having a serious girlfriend, and he was somehow hoping that she wouldn’t find out because she hated reality TV, and that he’d be able to dump her cleanly if it went well.

Instead, it all blew up in his face, as he deserved, and by three months after his engagement at the end of the show, he was single and slightly infamous, which is, admittedly, the sweet spot for people who want to continue to appear on reality TV. He’s hosted some specials, been on some morning shows, and now seems to be known mostly as a pleasant, generic attractive white guy, like they didn’t have enough of those on TV already.

“If it makes you feel better, he’s not actually a good dancer, so he should get weeded out pretty soon,” Bellamy points out, practical as always. “He’s been scraping by on charm and luck. I’m just glad the charm stopped working on you.”

She makes a face. “It wasn’t working, I was being polite.”

“Because you didn’t know anything about him.”

“I’m still being polite.”

“I’m just saying, before I told you to google him, you actually kind of liked him.”

Clarke grins and nudges him. “So you were trying to save me?”

“Friends don’t let friends date former Bachelor contestants, Clarke.”

“Especially not ones who cheated on their real girlfriends. He would have lost me pretty soon anyway. He’s just so–”

“Finn?” Bellamy supplies.

“Pretty much. How’s Ontari doing? I feel like you aren’t complaining as much.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to cut into your time,” he teases, and she elbows him again. He ducks his head, laughing, and Clarke finds herself smiling too. He’s in a good mood today, a rarity, and it’s nice to see him so relaxed. “Honestly, she’s fine. Don’t get me wrong, she hates me, thinks she knows better than I do, and if she could just be her own teacher and partner, she’d be fucking thrilled. But the judges keep praising all the stuff I say they will, so she’s coming around. And I’d take unnecessary asshole hostility over someone trying to hit on me every time.”

“So, my life is terribleand makes you feel better about yours?”

He raises his glass. “Appreciated.”

She shakes her head, smiling. “Happy to help.”

As with so many things, the Finn situation gets worse before it gets better. He’s one of those people who, as he gains experience and confidence, also gains opinions, and while that can be a good thing, his opinions are bad, and he should feel bad.

“He thinks we need to put more Bachelor stuff into the routine,” she tells Bellamy, a week later.

“I told you he wanted to give you a rose. I tried to warn you.”

“He used the word synergy.”

That makes him wince. “Jesus, really?”

“Synergy, I swear to god. He thinks the cross-promotional synergy will really help his brand.”

“If that’s an actual quote, I might break his leg.”

“It is.” She puts her head on his shoulder with a sigh. “I never thought basic competence would be this annoying.”

“Yeah, it’s a real burden.” He pauses, thinking something over. “Did he say what he thinks his brand is? Because asshole from The Bachelor is a pretty competitive field.”

“That’s why he wants to add dancing. None of the others are dancers.”

“I’ve seen him dance, he isn’t either.”

Clarke smiles. “Doesn’t that reflect on me? I’m the one who’s supposed to be teaching him.”

“You’re doing your best with what you have to work with.”

“Ontari is actually good.”

“She’s nominally a singer, so I guess she should be.”

“Nominally, you’re such a snob.”

“I just think when you autotune that much you should lose some of the credit for your musical skills,” he grumbles. Bellamy googles everyone who signs up for the show extensively, which is how he knows things like who Finn is and what Ontari’s music sounds like. Clarke’s experience tends to be more scattershot, with some people she recognizes and some she wouldn’t know were stars unless someone told her. Which doesn’t bother her, but she’s pretty sure Bellamy is still embarrassed about his first season, when they had Roan Churchill on the show and everyone else was star struck and Bellamy mistook him for a new PA.

So now he’s an expert.

“But she does actually have rhythm and some taste.”

“Let’s not get carried away. I’m still rooting for Monty.”

“Me too,” Clarke admits. Usually she roots for her own star, and then Bellamy’s, but since both of theirs suck, they had to find other people. Monty’s kind of quiet and dorky, famous as a cartoonist of all things, and everyone expected him to fail out basically immediately, but the guy can move. It’s kind of awesome.

“So, what does Finn do with the rose in this hypothetical dance?” he asks. “How bad is it?”

“It’s in his mouth.”

“For your disco week number?” Bellamy asks, sounding dubious.

“Don’t tell me you’re against disco roses.”

“At this point I think it’s safe to say I’m against Finn,” he grumbles. “I don’t really want you to get knocked out, but–yeah, if he could got horribly injured and you had to get a new partner, I could live with that.”

“Still working on how to break his legs and make it look like an accident. But if I figure out how, I’ll let you know.”

“If you need an alibi, just ask.”

She grins, kisses his cheek. “Yeah, I know.”

Clarke and Bellamy have been professionals on the show for six seasons together, but they’ve never actually danced together. It’s not something Clarke thinks about, not something she felt like she was missing in her life. She knows Bellamy is a great dancer, one of the best she’s ever seen, and she’s always thought it would be fun, but she hasn’t danced with plenty of people.

It comes up primarily because Bellamy and Ontari somehow get eliminated before she and Finn do, which is just absurd. It’s not like Clarke likesOntari–quite the opposite–but she was without a doubt a much better dancer than Finn is, and she definitely should have stayed longer.

On the bright side, Bellamy is no longer the competition, but he’s still her friend, so he’s just hanging around offering commentary on their moves. It’s kind of cheating, probably, but it’s not like he isn’t offering commentary on other people’s routines. She’s just his favorite, and he hates Finn, so he’s doing it extra for them.

“This is impossible!” Finn finally says, in exasperation. “No one could do this!”

“That’s just bullshit,” Bellamy says, mild. “Just because you can’t doesn’t mean it’s impossible.”

“Yeah? Then you do it.”

It’s an incredibly stupid thing to say, and Finn realizes it maybe a second after he says it, but it’s too late.

“Sure,” says Bellamy. He glances at his friend Miller, who’s behind the camera today. “Assuming that’s cool.”

“I don’t give a shit,” says Miller. “They might not use the footage but go for it.”

“Clarke?” he asks, and Clarke finds that she really, really wants to.

It’s a surprise, but it shouldn’t be.

“It would probably be good to get a demonstration in. You know it?”

“Yeah, I know it.” His eyes sweep over her, just once, like he’s checking in, and then he offers his hand.

She’ll be the first person to admit the whole thing works a lot better with Bellamy than it does with Finn. It’s less that sexual attraction is required for dance–it definitely isn’t–and more that comfort with the partner helps.

But it’s also a little bit that it’s a sexy song, and a sexy dance, and given her choice between dirty dancing with Finn and dirty dancing with Bellamy, Bellamy wins every time.

The speed was what was tripping Finn up, mostly, and some of the more complicated footwork, but of course Bellamy doesn’t struggle with that. He’s light on his feet, his movements sure, and his eyes never leave hers. It’s close and hot and intimate and like no other dancing has ever been, like no other partner has ever been. Her whole life, nothing has ever been like this.

By the time they’re done, everyone is staring at them, and Clarke’s wondering if she’s allowed to drag him off somewhere and fuck him now, or if she’s required to wait until later.

Judging from his expression, he’s wondering the same thing, but he makes up his mind first. “See?” he says, to no one in particular. “Anyone can do it.”

“Yeah, that’s the lesson we learned there,” says Miller, dry.

Finn, on the other hand, is just sort of gaping at them; Clarke offers him a sunny smile. “I don’t think it’s the choreography,” she says, and that makes him close his mouth.

“No,” he says, at last. “Probably not.”

Bellamy is waiting for her when she leaves the showers after, looking like an anxious kid after his first school dance, of all things.

“Hi,” she says.

“Hi. I thought I could, uh–I thought we should talk.”

“Talk?” she asks, amused. “You want to talk?”

“What’s wrong with talking?”

“Nothing. But it seems kind of unnecessary.”

“Unnecessary,” he repeats, but there’s a smile lurking around his mouth.

“Was some part of what happened there unclear?” she asks, trailing her fingers up his chest.

“I hope not,” he says, and leans down to kiss her.

So they’re definitely on the same page.

When she and Finn get eliminated that week, she assumes that it’s partly because they included some of the footage of her and Bellamy practicing together, and nothing she and Finn did came even close to being that good.

Bellamy assumes so too, because he greets her with a kiss and, “See? We got rid of him.”

“I don’t know if that counts.”

“He’s gone and we’re together,” he points out. “That sounds like winning to me.”

It’s hard to argue with that logic, and she cuddles into his arms, warm and perfectly content, despite the loss. “Yeah,” she says. “When you put it like that.”

#hart-and-friar

90 notes · View notes

idonthinkyoureadyforinformant · 4 years

Text

The fluorescent fixture on the ceiling above her head buzzed loudly, and sounded like a fly's futile efforts at escape against a closed window. Age revealed in their darkened ends, the long pair of luminous tubes flickered, and one of the bulbs burned dim orange rather than the bright white of its twin. Someone needed to replace the failing bulb and fix that annoying buzz, Mia thought.

Mia nervously waited in the dingy room, seated in an uncomfortable chair with her hands cuffed behind her back. Her mind raced. Were these handcuffs necessary? Couldn't the police see she was a respectable member of society? How could Josh be so stupid and get them both in this horrible mess? She had warned him about this, but as usual, he didn't listen. She was tired of having to mother him.

Mia loved her husband, Josh, and overlooked his many flaws. He was a talented high school science teacher at a prestigious private school, adored by his students and their parents alike. But Josh had concealed a minor blemish -- up until this point -- to his otherwise flawless portrait of a perfect citizen. Josh liked smoking marijuana a lot. Perhaps too much. With an academic background in botany, he also enjoyed applying his scientific knowledge to cultivating the illegal plant for his personal and recreational use.

While perfectly lawful to do in some states, Josh's activity was a felony punishable by up to 12-years prison where they presently lived. Josh had converted a small walk-in closet in their house into a grow room — the reason why they were both under arrest now, treated like common criminals, and why she was sitting here frightened and alone.

She wondered how the police found out. Did one of Josh's worthless pothead friends get busted and turn him in for a lighter sentence? Was it the helicopter she heard late one evening -- interrupting her peaceful sleep with its blades tearing through the cool night air -- equipped with a snooperscope that saw the heat on their roof from Josh's 1000-watt metal halide light? Maybe their electric consumption gave it away? What difference did it make now anyway? They were already in trouble.

"Wow, this one's a real looker," Detective Sanchez mumbled to her partner as she stared through the two-way mirror at the beautiful 24-year-old suspect she was about to interrogate.

"Yeah, they had eight plants growing hydroponically under a 1000-watt metal halide light. A small, sophisticated operation," the gruff voice of Detective Earl Noyse replied. Only a few ounces of smokable bud seized, but in typical police fashion, roots, stems and even the medium the plants grew in were weighed, greatly inflating the amount and the charges.

The door opened.

Sanchez entered the interrogation room, visually raking the gorgeous blond sitting at the old wooden table. The girl stared back at Sanchez with stunning blue eyes and silky blond hair that flowed past her shoulders in threads of gold as smooth as a sheet of water.

Mia watched the older, rather plain-looking woman walk toward her. Detective Sanchez wore her greying hair up in a tight bun and had what could be described as a slightly weathered, man-like appearance. She held a folder in her hand.

Sanchez slapped the folder down in front of Mia and dragged a wooden chair out from underneath the table. The heavy chair growled in a high-pitchl as it reluctantly slid across the floor.

Sanchez sat in front of Mia, her face an expressionless mask. "Seems like you and Josh have been busy entrepreneurs. Possession, manufacture and distribution of a Schedule I drug carries a pretty stiff penalty."

"I already explained all this to that other detective — Detective Nose."

"Noyse," Sanchez interjected.

Mia rolled her eyes. "Whatever his name is — Josh only grows it for personal use. He only had eight plants. How does that amount to manufacture and distribution?"

"Listen, dearie, we confiscated over 15 pounds of weed from your house. Both you and Josh are looking at felony records and 12 years in prison unless you cooperate."

Mia's voice rose higher with indignation. "There's no way those eight little plants equal 15 pounds. You can't charge us with that! I want to speak with an attorney."

Detective Sanchez was not going to tolerate Mia's uppity attitude. She needed to bring this young girl down a few notches.

Sanchez rose from her chair, her palms remaining flat on the table, her face now red and only inches from Mia as she leaned toward her and yelled. "Listen, sweetheart, you want to speak to an attorney? Fine! But then we're throwing the book at both of you. You can say good bye to each other and to your house, your car, and all those nice things you and Josh have acquired. He'll never work as a teacher again. His career and your futures will be ruined. I'll see to it!"

Mia felt Detective Sanchez' hot breath and spittle blast against her cheeks as the angry detective shouted into her face.

Sanchez sat down, resumed a calm demeanor and continued as if her previous rant never occurred. "Or you can cooperate with us. All of this can go away and your husband, Josh, can continue teaching. Otherwise, you're both looking at lengthy prison time away from each other. It's your choice."

Tears began flowing from Mia's eyes. "What do you mean, 'cooperate'? I don't even smoke marijuana, you can give me a drug test right now. I told Josh not to grow that stuff."

Mia spoke the truth. She very rarely used marijuana. It made her too paranoid and nervous, but Sanchez didn't care and wasn't buying anything Mia said. Bigger fish swam in the ocean of scum and Mia looked like perfect bait to catch them. "We have a big drug problem in this city, which you can help us solve. We know who distributes the drugs, but we need to find sources, who else is involved. We want to bust Reggie Johnson, but first we need to find out who he gets his drugs from."

Mia sniffled. "Who's Reggie Johnson?"

Was this girl serious or was she just playing stupid? How could she not know about Reggie Johnson? Everyone on the street, and part of the drug trade in this city, knew about Reggie Johnson, the high-ranking gangster responsible for murders, heinous crimes, and the area's rich supply of illicit drugs. Detective Sanchez was going to bring him down, and this hot young female was going to help her do it.

Mia's suburban life had sheltered her from the likes of Reggie Johnson. Her anonymity was perfect, and perhaps her ignorance was for the best too.

"Stand up for me," Sanchez barked.

"What?"

"Just do it and turn around."

Mia timidly rose from her chair, with her head down and shoulders hunched over in fear as she turned around.

"Stand straight!"

Mia's back straightened upon command. The baggy sweat pants she wore poorly concealed what could only be described as an incredibly tight and sexy ass from hours she had spent working out at the gym.

"You'll do just fine," Sanchez mumbled to herself as she studied the perfect curves of Mia's beautifully slender figure. She was exactly Reggie Johnson's type — young, white with perky c-cup tits and an hour glass figure; a gorgeous face with big blue eyes and silky blond hair.

*****************

They lived in a well-kept, modest sized home — the only house on a secluded street in an otherwise suburban area populated by soccer moms and dads who coached little league baseball on the weekends for their young children. An ideal place for kids of their own they planned to have soon. The yard was neatly trimmed and heavily shaded by two large oaks that reached over the house like two giant hands about to shake with each other.

Mia stood in the living room. "I have to do it, Josh. I'm sorry, but it's the only way. If I don't do this for them, they'll send us both to jail. You'll lose your job, have a felony record and never teach again. Why didn't you just listen to me? I told you not to grow that stuff and to stop smoking it."

Josh stared at her as she spoke, his face wearing his confusion. At 5' 10" tall and perhaps 145 pounds wet, he was never much of an athlete, his frame best described as wiry. How could the police suddenly send her off as an informant without any preparation? It didn't seem safe or right. "Well, where are you going?"

"I'm not sure," Mia answered. "Detective Sanchez didn't tell me yet."

Above his wire-framed glasses, his eyebrows now knitted together with concern. How could she not know where she was going? "When will you be home?"

Detective Sanchez hadn't told her that yet either. "I don't know."

"You're not sure; you don't know," Josh mimicked. "Well, what can you tell me?"

"Nothing — all Detective Sanchez told me is she needs me to find out about some guy named Ryan or something. I can't remember his name. I was so nervous."

"Oh that's just great. You don't know who this is, where you're going, what you'll be doing, or when you'll be back." Josh sat in his chair, crossed his arms, and pouted like an angry child. "You're not the five-o, Mia."

"I don't want to do it, Josh. But we don't have a choice."

A car horn honked for Mia from their driveway and Josh jumped from his chair.

Mia wrapped her arms around her husband, gave him a big hug and kiss. "Please, Josh, I have to go now. I'll call as soon as I can, but it may be a while. I'm not supposed to contact anyone I know while doing this."

Josh melted in her embrace and returned her hug. "I'm sorry Mia. You're right — this is all my fault. But I didn't mean to do this to us. The laws in this country are so fucked up. You know why they originally illegalized weed back in 1937?"

Mia shook her head.

"They thought black men used it to seduce white women. Isn't that ridiculous? It's all because of racism. And here we are in 2016 suffering the consequences of unjust laws based on bigotry."

The horn honked again.

"Please be careful and call me as soon as you can," Josh added.

Mia tore herself away from him. Josh followed her to the front door, where she grabbed her packed suitcase.

He stood at the doorway and unenthusiastically waved farewell as Mia entered an older Honda Accord Detective Sanchez drove.

***************

A man and woman shouted curse words at each other from the neighboring unit while their baby cried, and the sound of distant sirens drifted through the air.

"I don't want to wear this stuff," Mia complained, pulling down at the short, tightly-fitting mini skirt so it would cover more of her legs. "This is too short and I feel uncomfortable wearing a thong underneath it like this. Please let me put on something else."

"You're either going to do this and get the information I need, or I'll file those charges with the DA. What's it going to be? I'm getting tired of hearing you whine."

Mia didn't like any of this. Sanchez made her share this disgusting rat infested apartment in a bad inner-city neighborhood with some crack whore, and now she made Mia wear this slutty outfit. "Aren't you going to give me a wire or something?"

Sanchez believed Mia and her husband were low-life drug dealers. Small fry perhaps, but not much better than Johnson. Sanchez' only concern for Mia as her informant was in using her to catch Johnson, nothing more. To that end, she was expendable. Mia obviously didn't understand their working relationship yet. "You're an informant, not an undercover cop. Reggie Johnson will likely check you for a bug anyway. That's if you ever get near him. We can't risk him finding out that you're working for us."

"But it's been three days already. Please, I want to see my husband. When can I see Josh? I'm tired of hanging out at that stupid club with all those black men hitting on me all night. How am I supposed to make friends with this Reggie Johnson guy anyway and find out all this stuff for you? I haven't even seen him there yet."

Sanchez squinted her eyes and looked at Mia angrily. "That's your problem. Use your imagination. I'm sure a cute girl like you can put your good looks to use and figure something out, but you better do it quickly. The sooner you do, the sooner you can see Josh. The clock is ticking and you're running out of time. If you don't get me some information soon, I'll have you and Josh prosecuted and sent to prison."

"No, please don't do that. I'll get the information you want..."

While Detective Sanchez prepared Mia, her colleague, Detective Noyse, secretly met with Reggie Johnson.

Steel and glass skyscrapers contained fiery reflections of the setting sun like the surface of a calm sea. From Reggie's penthouse apartment, Noyse gazed out the floor-to-ceiling window at a breathtaking view of the city. "Funny how nice it all looks from way up here. It's only when you're actually on the ground and part of it that the filth and ugliness become apparent, I guess."

"It's on the desk," Reggie replied, finishing his last rep of bench presses. The muscles in his arms and chest looked like they were about to rip through his tight brown skin as he gritted his teeth.

Noyse placed a folder he had brought with him on the desk and picked up the thick envelope Reggie had left there for him. He opened the envelope and briefly thumbed through a stack of hundred-dollar bills it contained before quietly placing it inside his jacket pocket and returning to the view outside the window.

Reggie sat up from gym equipment in the middle of his expansive living room, and used a white towel hanging around his neck to wipe sweat from his face. He glanced at the closing stock prices running across the bottom of an enormous LED TV hung like a picture on the wall. He had made over $800K in the market today, he silently noted, pointing a remote control toward the set. The screen went black. "Anything I need to know?"

His six-pack abs noticeable, Reggie walked to the desk.

Noyse turned from the window. "You might want to look over the contents of that folder carefully. Sanchez is on a high horse again and she's after you and your suppliers. She recruited a new informant we busted a few days ago."

Reggie opened the folder containing Mia Warren's mug shot and arrest record. "Nice," he muttered out loud to himself, the picture less than flattering to Mia, but her beauty apparent to him anyway. He read through her report. "Hmm —married, 24-years-old, and no kids. Busted for growing weed. Tsk-tsk — naughty girl."

"The husband admitted it was his. She seems pretty straight-laced, but you never know these days."

Reggie looked up from the folder. "It's an election year. A sizable contribution to a certain incumbent's re-election campaign should take care of Detective Sanchez' investigation. In the meantime, I gotta check Mrs. Warren out. May wanna tap me some that fine white pussy. Keep that cute little informant preoccupied."

"The husband should appreciate that very much," Detective Noyse dryly replied.

Reggie returned Noyse's sarcasm with a grin. "That's what he gets for breaking the law, cutting into my business — and not doing it very well, I might add."

*************

From across a crowded, dimly lit dance club, her golden blond hair and beautiful skin stood out like headlights on a deserted road at night. Very few Caucasians frequented this establishment, and none of them had ever looked as good as her. Reggie studied how the softer features of her nose, eyes, and mouth accentuated her sharp cheekbones to produce the loveliest face. The tight miniskirt she wore only amplified an equally gorgeous figure that could easily belong to a supermodel and drew unwanted attention from practically every male in the joint.

Unaware of Reggie's presence, Mia stood by the bar watching some black couple dance next to her, the girl obscenely thrusting her pelvis into the guy's leg, oblivious it seemed to all else around her. An offensive rap song blasted, making even the floors and walls vibrate.

Mia hated this place, but Sanchez said this was Reggie Johnson's hangout, although he had not appeared here for the past three nights.

"Damn, you beautiful. Let me buy you a drink," she heard a voice say with a familiar African American accent. She was so tired of hearing that stupid accent and having to tell these ignorant black men that she was not interested. She rolled her eyes up and sighed. She had lost count of how many men had already hit on her this evening. She wanted to get out of this place and be with Josh. There was no way in Hell she would ever cheat on her husband or be with some nasty black guy.

Mia irritatedly turned around to tell whoever it was this time to buzz off and leave her alone.

Her eyes climbed up the muscular stature of an enormous black man, as if trying to find the top of a skyscraper. In the darkness, she somehow missed the monstrous bulge in his pants. She almost blew it, about to tell him to get lost like all the other inferior black men she had encountered this evening, before her eyes finally reached his face.

Mia suddenly realized that the gigantic man speaking to her was Reggie Johnson — the man she had been waiting for. He wore a Polo shirt and a thick gold necklace, grey silk slacks, and an expensive sports jacket. Diamond rings that looked big enough to sink the Titanic adorned his fingers.

Mia nervously forced a smile. Her opportunity finally arrived, yet her mind was blank as to what to say. "Hi," she managed to squeak out.

Reggie looked at the almost empty glass Mia held. "Whatcha drinking?"

Mia was not much of a drinker, and her tumbler contained remnants of ice water — the only substance she ever intended to consume here. But she remembered Detective Sanchez' threats — Josh's career in ruins, criminal records marring their future, 12 years in prison. Little time remained. She needed information about Reggie and his suppliers to give Sanchez. Too much was at stake to let her nerves get in her way now. This was her chance and she could not let it slip away. "I'll have whatever you're drinking."

Reggie turned to the bartender. "A Crown on the rocks for me and this lovely woman. Make 'em doubles".

The bartender briefly raised an eyebrow, thinking he might have misheard Reggie. The only thing Mia had ordered from him the past three nights was ice water. He proceeded to fill two tumblers with ice and generous amounts of the amber liquid without question. "Anything else, Mr. Johnson?"

Reggie gave him a fifty-dollar bill. "Not now. Keep the change."

"Thank you, Mr. Johnson."

Reggie handed Mia the glass. "Come on, let's sit somewhere quiet and talk."

They sat at a small table away from the music. Mia remained incredibly nervous. She quickly forced down the contents of her glass and felt fire form in her stomach.

"Wow, you really slammed that down. I ain't seen many women drink like that. I'll get you another. I don't want to drink by myself."

Mia stared blankly at him a moment as she waited for the fire in her gut to simmer. Although she rarely drank, she possessed the ability to hold her liquor well.

Reggie signaled a nearby server. "Bring my pretty friend here another double of Crown, on the rocks."

Mia began to feel the calming effects of alcohol she just consumed enter her bloodstream. "What's your name?"

"Reggie Johnson — and who, may I inquire, do I have the pleasure of meeting."

"I'm Mia."

"Where you from, Mia? I never seen you 'round here before. No way could I ever miss someone as beautiful as you."

She caught herself from almost fumbling the whole thing by telling him her real address. Mia's nervousness returned. She had forgotten the address where she was staying with the crack whore. "I just moved here — to a place on North 89th Street and Milton Avenue. Do you know the area?"

Ch. 2

0 notes

ideocosmonaut · 6 years

Text

surveyzzz

When was the last time you went in the car past midnight? Gosh it had to have been sometime early this year driving home from an after party So, you have brown eyes? Nope What was the last thing you ate? Chocolate pretzels Can you say you’re happy? No but I manage

What’s bothering you right now? Mostly anxiety and loneliness

Who was the last person to text you? A friend What are you drinking right now? Nothing What all did you do today? I got groceries and went to a little thing called Weekend of the Witches. And I worked on some art. Why did you last laugh really hard? I dont remember How is your hair? Freshly cut Could things possibly get any better? I hope so How are you feeling at the moment? A bit tired Do you have feelings for someone? Yes What was for dinner tonight? Chips and onion dip lol Would you be able to name everyone you kissed? Yeah that’s easy Are you in a good mood? Im okay Where is the last person you kissed? Im not sure What color shirt are you wearing? N/a Do you think you could ever make it as a rap singer? Nope How important are looks to you? Important if I’m actively looking for someone. It’s what causes me to interact. But if I get to know someone first, say through work or friends, and then fall for them, then it doesnt matter what they look like. Did you have a fling this summer but it didn’t really go anywhere? Nope Do you get jealous? A bit Why did you kiss the last person you kissed? I kissed my mom on the forehead when she died, if that counts. What is something you currently want? Love and warmth. Security. Affection. What was the last thing you bought? Groceries What was the weather like today? Rainy Do you like sushi? Love it Is your hair longer than your shoulders? No Ever kissed anyone with a nipple piercing? No What about a lip piercing? No Nose piercing? No Do you like your hair? It’s alright Have you ever kissed someone who had a boyfriend/girlfriend? No Did you like kissing the last person you kissed or the one before that more? I dunno man Ever made out in a pool? No The shirt you’re wearing, does anyone else have it? N/a What was the last movie you watched? Scott Pilgrim vs The World

What do you usually get on a sub? Whatever comes on a cuban, I’m not sure. Some kind of meat, cheese, pickles, mayo and mustard.

Do your lips taste like anything right now? Maybe onions...

Are you an annoyed big sibling or annoying little sibling? (Or neither…) A distant big sibling

Do you have a pair of those ‘nerd’ glasses? Yes

Have you ever watched the Glee Project? No

When does school start for you? Never

Who is always there for you? My friends usually

What ticks you off? Bullying and blaming without evidence

Where is the last place you were other then where you are right now? A place called Southern Trash

Why do you act the way you do? Cuz they dont think it be like it is, but it do

How do you feel about the last person you kissed? Well I love my mom

When are you the happiest? While traveling and experiencing cities and countries for the first time

Who do you get along with the best? My friends

What color is your remote control for the main TV you watch? Black

Where is your heart currently at? My left side

Why do you usually laugh — something funny happened or someone got hurt? Something funny happened wtf

How are you feeling today? Meh

When is your birthday? Sept 17

What do you spend most of your money on: Food, clothes, etc. ? Aside from bills, food

Is there anything around your neck right now? Nope

Do you ever feel like you’re alone in this world? Kind of in a way

Don’t you just adore Simple Plan? No

Lol, Lawl, Rotfl, Lmao, or Lmfao? (Which you use most) Lol

Do you ever watch info-mercials for fun? Sometimes

Where do you usually shop at? Publix

When do/did you turn 21? 2006

Are friendship bracelets cool? (Even if they’re not for a friendship) Maybe. Nostalgia is big

Have you/Do you know anyone that grows weed? Yeah

Do you really care about namebrands? Unfortunately. I have to avoid a lot of big names in favor of other specific names because of my size

Describe your favorite pair of jeans to me please. Tapered

Do you think it means more if someone takes the time to type: I love you; rather then ILY? Sure

To wash in the shower, do you use a loofa? No

What brand is your shampoo? I forget. It’s some tea tree shit

Have you ever ridden on a horse? Yes

How many questions make a survey too long? Like 1000

Do you know what ‘savvy’ means? Kind of

Ever get a craving for a salad? I do. Sometimes

Who’s your favorite celebrity? Bill Murray probably

Which is better: Facebook, Twitter, tumblr, Myspace or Skype? They’re all terrible wastes of time imo. But I enjoy making my friends laugh with memes on FB

Does it bug you when people do things to try and bug you?

Yes

Do you like going to Borders?

What?

Is your local Borders shutting down? Mine is. Huh?

Little dogs: Cute or annoying? Depends

Is there a dream catcher in your room? No

Do storms scare or fascinate you? I like them

Are you polite? Usually, unless someone isnt

Ever been so tired a part of your body hurt? Yes

Did you ever pretend you were someone else as a favor for a friend? Not as a favor... Do you think men prefer curvy women or skinny women? I think they like a lot of different things Do you own a water gun? Somewhere What item most embarrasses you to purchase? Junk food

Do you know any actual dances or do you just move to the music? I just move baby

Do you eat pork and beans? I have What is the last thing you referred to as legit? Who knows Do you give cards to people for holidays or events? No I dont understand why thats a thing

Do you have anything hanging from the ceiling of your room? Nope Name the coolest thing about one of your grandparents. My dad’s dad lost a finger in the Navy. My mom’s dad was in Knights of Columbus and left me his sword. Which do you prefer, doctor or dentist? I’ve met nicer dentists, oddly Are any walls of your room blank? Yes What color are your favorite shoes? Black If someone was willing to tell the person you like that you liked them, would you let them? I already have Do you know the zodiac signs of your friends? Not since they added the new one Do you drink any hot beverages? What? Tea sometimes Name two things you put whipped cream on? Frappes and Strawberry shortcake Who is the last person who saw you with bare feet? My friends Do you ever eat peanut butter straight from the jar? If its mine Do you know how to ride a bike? Do you own one? Yes and no What was the last pill you took for? Pain Any friends you only know online? Kind of Do you ever talk to your next door neighbor? Nope

Did anything shock you today? Like all the shelves in Publix. Zapped me a bunch of times. Are you wearing a hoodie right now? No Do you prefer your clothes loose or close fitting? I like loose but it doesnt look good on me Are your favorite pants jeans? Pants are the devil Favorite thing you’ve ever painted? I dont really paint. Id like to Are there any songs that remind you of your mother? Yes If you had a sister, would you prefer her older or younger? Why? I do What is something you wanted to say today, but didn’t? Nothing I guess

What’s the last thing you panicked about? Im not sure. I think nicotine used to raise my blood pressure sky high and cause me to have a panic attack so I had to quit smoking. What do you have planned out as a career? Nothing. I only plan to die so far Are you planning any special outings with family or friends? Kind of

Which word(s) do you generally use to describe someone attractive? (e.g. “fit”, “sexy” etc.) Gorgeous

What was the last alcoholic drink you tried for the first time? Did you like it? Sam Adams Oktoberfest. It’s alright Who is that last person who harassed and annoyed you? Some internet pleb Who is the last person who made you feel hurt? Some friends... What was the last thing you were worried about? Dying alone probably. It’s always there What time of day feels the most magical to you? 3 am What is the last physical ailment you took medication for? Headache Do you get motion sickness? I used to Who is the cutest baby you know? Dante. RIP Have you ever thrown a rock at a window? Probably Has anyone ever thrown a rock at your window? Maybe Does your hair react well to dye, or does it damage it? I dunno What kind of pet do you wish you had? A living plushie that doesnt need to eat or pee. And also doesnt feel the need to murder... When was the last time you had an argument with one of your parents? Years ago Do you still live at home or with a guardian of some sort? If so, when do you plan on moving out, if ever? If you have moved out, how did your relationship to your parents change after that? No, I saw them a lot less but I still love them

When was the last time you were diagnosed with something? Are you concerned about anything regarding your physical or mental health at the moment? Years ago. Yeah but I’m an idiot and a hypochondriac What’s the longest you’ve gone without talking to other people? How did this affect you? Couple days. Happens sometimes on weekends What is one blanket judgment you tend to make about people (like, you judge all people who live at home, all people who drink, etc)? Does this judgment come from a particular personal experience? I try not to judge anyone really. I do playfully but not realistically. Everyone has their reasons, whether they be right or wrong and usually people just judge them instead of trying to learn about why they are that way and maybe help them. Like prisoners. People are people. Most are misunderstood or ignorant. What is something seemingly small and inconsequential that will cause you to avoid a person? If I do something to upset them

How do you react to other people yelling or slamming doors? Is this something you ever do too? It happened a lot in my childhood. I’d rather just not get angry but it happens. One second of anger usually costs me a weeks worth of apologies. It’s a tad expensive. Who in your life do you get along with best? How about the least? How often do you have to interact with these people? My best friend. My boss. Usually a lot Have you ever lost your cool at work or somewhere else important? What happened as a result? Yeah. Got reprimanded. Shock and awe. Was a long, long time ago.

When was the last time you did something you knew was wrong? What about the last time you did something right just because it was right? Morally? Or just like running a red light? I do little things all the time. I’m not perfect. Morally, umm hmm... I’m not sure. Probably not since I was a teenager. I hold doors for people all the time. I donate sometimes. I tend to stay in the middle mostly. Zen. Ying and yang.

When you do good things, do you do them because you want some sort of reward or recognition or do you do them just for the sake of being good? I just enjoy being nice. I do all the little things I can think of. When you fill out social media bios and such, how do you typically describe yourself? Is describing yourself something you have a difficult time doing? Yeah actually. I usually just end up deflecting with dumb comedic phrases What is one unusual belief you have? Has anyone ever made fun of you for your beliefs? I dont have any unusual beliefs. Ive always said I’d take up scientology for the perks though lol Have you taken anyone’s virginity? No Who has the power to break you? Feels like everyone but I know its just me How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust? A few What’s one thing about you people wouldn’t expect? Idk. I’m kind of a robosexual Have you ever been in therapy? Are you now? Do you think you always will be, or do you think there will come a time when you don’t need it anymore? No but I should be What is the most dangerous thing you do on a regular basis? Probably eat junk food. I used to self-harm but it wasnt really dangerous. I suppose my thoughts can be considered dangerous then Have you ever been in a hospital and not felt safe? No

Is anyone in your family blind? No What’s your favorite gaming system? PC

Is your more photogenic side your left or right? Idk they’re both kinda fug Do you believe in evolution? Yes What job do you think people should be paid the most for? Any job that puts you directly into harms way, followed by jobs that involve removing people from harms way. Have you ever seen a tornado in real life? From a distance What was your favorite stuffed animal as a kid? What was it named? A T-Rex my dad got me from a business trip. He didnt have a name Were you ever held back a year in school? Did you ever skip a grade? Nope Have you ever been given a hickey? Have you given one? No Who was the last person to kiss your cheek? My aunt I guess Where’s the farthest you’ve been from home? Maine

0 notes