thefatedthoughtofyou

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

take me out

Gator Tillman ✗ Win Lewis (oc) ✗ Kirby Rivers (oc)

✗ wc. 2.5k words ✗ warning(s)/tags. oc / oc / canon pairing, trans/nonbinary oc, Kirby uses he/him & they/them, drinking, talk of drug use, smoking, minor violence, transphobia/intentional misgendering, poly relationship intro ✗ a/n. for my lovely @babydollbaron & their oc, Kirby 🥺💚

When Win finds out about the girl that outed Kirby to the whole town, she lets her anger get the best of her, and the three end up drunk and high and have an important relationship defining moment.

[ masterlist ]

Win happened to glance up from the bar when the door opened, Gator striding in with Kirby at his heels and her mood lifted instantly.

“Hey, there’s my favourite guys!” she called, grinning as Gator leaned across the bartop to steal a kiss while Kirby hung back, climbing atop a vacant barstool nearby, his gaze carefully averted like usual when PDA became involved.

“What are you two up to?” Win asked, already reaching for an empty pint glass and filling it with Gator’s draft of choice.

“Knew you were gettin’ off soon and couldn’t wait any longer to see ya,” Gator drawled, winking at her as he accepted his beer.

“Uh huh,” Win murmured doubtfully.  “You just wanted a free drink.”

“I can’t believe you’d think that!” he gasped and Kirby let out an amused snort.

Win laughed as she rolled her eyes, reaching for the bottle of whiskey behind the counter.  “Yeah, yeah, I still love you though,” she teased before turning her attention on Kirby.  “I hope you, at least, are here to see me,” she chuckled, flashing him a playful grin. 

She could tell he was uncomfortable, their eyes darting around the half crowded room as they fidgeting in their seat, uncharacteristically quiet.

Win couldn’t think of a time she’d ever seen her friend so subdued, not even when he was high, not like this.

At her words, however, Kirby huffed a laugh and rubbed the side of his nose before leaning atop the bar conspiratorially, a grin tugging at his lips.  “Well, let’s just say I’m not here for the drinks,” he joked, sharing Win’s smile.

“See, at least Kirbs has their priorities straight,” she taunted, giving Gator a wry look before turning back to Kirby.  “Don’t worry, I’ll make it weak,” she assured him as she mixed a whiskey cola.

“You’re an angel, Winnie!” they exclaimed, once more quieting as they brought the glass to their lips, his eyes darting around the room as their shoulders hunched.

Win frowned, following Kirby’s gaze and she noticed Gator tense, his own gaze turning sharp as he peered in the direction Kirby was, silently searching for trouble before his eyes met hers for a moment, speaking volumes.  They both knew why Kirby didn’t go out much.

“Hey Lewis, you’re free to go,” Frankie, the owner, grunted as he rounded the bar to take her place and she nodded, untying the small black apron around her waist.

“Thanks Franks, can you mix me one?” she asked, joining Gator and Kirby on the other side of the bar.

“Comin’ right up.”

Frankie poured her the same drink she’d just made for Kirby, but considerably stronger.  “There y’go, darlin’,” he said, sliding the glass atop the bar to her before heading away to see to another customer.

Win took a sip and sighed, finally relaxing.  “That’s more like it,” she murmured, leaning against Gator’s side.  

“So, what’re the plans for tonight, fellas?” she asked, waiting for Kirby to respond.  Instead they let out a sharp gasp, followed by a groan as they shrank in on themself, their head snapping back to the bar top.

“Actually, can we maybe, kinda, get outta here?” they asked in a hushed voice, forcing a humourless laugh as they checked over their shoulder once more and ducking back down.

Gator’s eyes scanned the room to see who Kirby’d been looking at while Win frowned, setting her glass down.  

“What’s wrong?” she asked, leaning in closer, her hand coming to rest against Kirby’s hunched back, rubbing soothing circles.

Kirby grimaced and shook his head.  “Nothing!  Nothing, I’m just, uh– I just wanna get this fun evening started, that’s all!” he exclaimed, trying to sound cheerful.

“Oh no, I know that tone,” Win said, not budging.  “Who do I need to fight?”

Kirby looked down at the half empty glass in their hands and let out a long breath before nodding toward a girl at the other end of the bar chatting up some guy.

“So, that girl, she and I had a thing, or I thought we could,” he murmured, his voice hushed.  “She was really into me, we started making out, but she uh, got a little too handsy before I could explain the whole no penis thing—“

They shrugged, rubbing the back of their neck awkwardly.  “She freaked out, turned into a massive bitch about it and basically told the whole town I’m a freak,” he explained, keeping his eyes carefully on the bar top, his face heating with embarrassment.

“So there, now you know—“

Before Kirby could say another word, Win threw back the rest of her drink and stalked off with purpose, squaring her shoulders as she made her way to the other end of the bar, red filling her vision.  Striding up to the girl Kirby’d pointed out, she stepped between her and the guy she was in the middle of talking to, cutting them off.

“Hey—!”

“You the one that outed my friend to the whole town?” Win asked, ignoring the girl’s outburst, her jaw flexing.

“What?” she asked, confused, til she glanced past Win to see Kirby sitting at the bar and trying to shrink into their seat as much as possible.  “Oh, you mean that freak that pretends to be a guy to trick women?” she scoffed.  “Yeah, I had to warn the other girls in town, so they wouldn’t fall for her sick tricks,” she sneered.

Win merely flashed her a tight smile, her anger boiling to the surface before she closed her hand into a fist and decked the other woman straight in the nose.

“Oh shit,” Gator hissed, jumping up from his stool.

“You fucking bitch, you broke my nose!” 

“You’re lucky that’s all I broke,” Win spat, feeling Gator’s arms circle around her, lifting her easily to drag her away, still spewing a colourful string of expletives.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Gator said, catching the collar of Kirby’s shirt as he passed, pulling him toward the door as Win struggled in his grasp.  Once outside, he hustled both of them into his truck despite Win’s protests, Kirby crawling into the cramped backseat as Gator pulled out of the parking lot.

A tense silence fell over the truck as Win stewed, slowly calming down when Kirby finally broke the silence, taking a deep breath and huffing a laugh, their lips stretching wide.

“That was so fuckin’ hot!”

The words hung in the air for a moment before they all began to laugh, Kirby’s amusement infectious.

“The look on her face was priceless!” he exclaimed, wiping at the tears that had gathered in their eyes from laughing so hard.

“You’re such a little spitfire,” Gator chuckled, looking over at Win before glancing back at Kirby, his grin lingering for a moment before tearing his eyes away and back to the road.

“I couldn’t help it!  I couldn’t just let her get away with that!” Win cried, the aftershocks of her laughter still clutching her.

“C’mon, let’s get our drink on, firecracker,” Gator snorted as he parked in her driveway.

“You got any of that good grass with you, Kirbs?” Win asked, craning in her seat to look back at them.

“Why yes, madam, I do,” he replied, ducking his head to hide a grin as he slipped out the back seat.

It wasn’t long before the three of them were high and drunk and lounging together on the couch, Win growing more affectionate with each drink she finished, pulling Gator’s arms around her and leaning her head on Kirby’s shoulder.

“Hey, seriously though, Winnie, I wanted to thank you,” Kirby said, rubbing at his heavy lidded, bloodshot eyes.  “No one’s ever stood up for me like that before.  It really means a lot, though—“ they let out a huff and ran their fingers through their mess of bleached hair.  “I’m afraid your reputation may have just gotten worse,” they added wryly, their lips twisting apologetically.

Win shrugged, waving the thought away.  “That girl was a bitch,” she grunted, setting her empty glass down on the coffee table.  “Besides, she clearly doesn’t know what she’s missing out on.”

Kirby lifted an eyebrow at her.  “Oh yeah?  And what’s that?” he chuckled awkwardly and Win pouted in response.

“Well, you’re super sweet for one, and two, you’re attractive as hell—“ she said, her words slurring slightly.

“Tell us how ya really feel, why don’tcha,” Gator snorted and Win swiveled to fix him with a pointed look.  “You know how attracted to you I am,” she huffed, poking her boyfriend in the side.  “Am I not allowed to find Kirby sexy too?”

“Sexy?” Kirby repeated incredulously, sitting up straighter, their eyes darting to Gator and away again quickly, clearly not wanting to step on any toes.  “I’m flattered, truly, but Win—“ 

Before they could finish politely telling Win that they didn’t feel comfortable getting in the middle of her and Gator, she was already leaning in for a kiss.

“Ope!” Kirby yelped, quickly turning his head to avert crisis, Win’s lips harmlessly finding their cheek instead and her pout deepened.

“You don’t wanna kiss me?” she asked, peering at him through her lashes and Kirby squirmed in his seat, his face flushing hotly.

“It’s not that–!” they exclaimed, swallowing thickly, his eyes darting to Gator as he wet his lips.  “I–You’re–dating Gator, and as much as I like you, I’d never do that to you guys,” he explained, raising his hands and dropping them back to his legs helplessly, almost deflating, but Win merely looked thoughtful, a mischievous grin stretching her pink lips.

“What if we both kissed you?”

For a moment Kirby’s mouth fell open and they blinked at her, sure they’d misheard.

��Huh?” was all he could get out, looking between his two friends in confusion, their stomach flipping almost hopefully.

“Would that make it fair?” Win asked, raising an eyebrow, her lips curled like the cat that got the cream.

Before Kirby could protest on Gator’s behalf, trying to explain to Win that her boyfriend wouldn’t want to do that, she stopped him, silencing them with a finger to his lips.

“I’ve seen the way Gator looks at you, I’d say he’s interested.”

At her words, Kirby turned to gape at Gator, now completely flabbergasted.  Of course they knew that Win had noticed their attraction to her boyfriend, but he hadn’t actually thought that their attraction would ever be reciprocated.

Now it was Gator’s turn to turn red, his gaze darting away as he shrugged, fighting for nonchalance.

“I mean, I can see the appeal,” he murmured, his hazel eyes hesitantly turning back to Kirby.

“Wait–just to clarify here, because I’m extremely stoned here and I wanna make sure I’m hearing this right–you’re okay with this?” Kirby exclaimed, fixing Gator with an incredulous look.

“I said I was, didn’t I?” he replied, the tips of his ears burning.  “So let’s do this before I lose my nerve,” he muttered and Win’s grin widened.

Slipping from his side and into Kirby’s lap, she took hold of his face and leaned in, giggling softly against his lips as she kissed them, slowly at first.  “This okay?” she whispered, pulling back just enough to check on them, Kirby nodding breathlessly before pulling Win back in, his hands squeezing her hips as they explored her mouth with their tongue, Win boldly reciprocating, moaning into Kirby’s mouth before once more pulling back to let Gator have a turn.

When his mouth met Gator’s, Kirby squeezed his eyes shut, just waiting for the other man to pull back in disgust, but he didn’t.  

The kiss was much more hesitant than Win’s, but felt just as right, and Kirby let Gator set the pace, his breath hitching when Gator’s tongue swiped against his lips, slowly testing the waters before delving deeper.

When Gator finally pulled back, Win beamed at the pair of them, grabbing Gator by the scruff of his neck for their own passionate kiss.

As Kirby watched them, his heart pounding in his ears and his head swimming, they couldn’t quite be sure if they were dreaming or not, but when Win claimed his lips again, Kirby decided if it was a dream, it was a damn good one.

The next morning, Kirby stirred, their eyes still shut as they came to, at first noticing how warm they were before realizing they were pressed between two bodies.  Their eyes snapping open, Kirby froze at the sight that met him–Gator asleep facing him, their legs entwined and his hand resting on Kirby’s neck, while snuggled up behind him was Win, her face pressed to his shoulder and her arm slung over his middle, her hand snaked under his shirt.

“So, it wasn’t a dream,” they murmured, unsure exactly what to do–torn between not wanting it to end and wanting to make sure the others didn’t regret what had transpired the night before, now that they were all sober.

Win began to wake before Kirby could decide on a course of action, snuggling closer with a sleepy moan, her arm around their middle tightening.

“Mornin’ handsome,” she breathed, her voice muffled against Kirby’s back.

“Uh, morning,” he replied, breathing out a nervous laugh.  “You know I’m not Gator, right?”

Win lifted her head, propping her chin on Kirby’s shoulder.  “I know.”

“Oh, okay.  Uhm, that’s good,” they murmured–at least Win didn’t seem phased, but Win wasn’t exactly the one he was worried about.

When Gator’s jaw cracked in a large yawn, his eyes fluttering open, he let out a soft groan before clearing his throat, and Kirby offered him a nervous half smile.  

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Gator answered, a little bewildered, though his lips twitched slightly.

Kirby pulled in a deep breath and sat up, pulling his knees to his chest as he looked between his two friends.

“So… as much as I enjoyed this–” they said, gesturing to all of them.  “–I think we should probably have a little conversation.”

Win rolled to her back, stretching through a yawn.  “I don’t see what there is to discuss,” she said, rolling back to her side and propping her head in her hand.  “The truth came out last night, it seems we’re all into each other.  So, let’s do this,” she suggested.

“Is that even… allowed?” Gator asked, his brows furrowing in confusion, til Win barked a laugh and took his hand. 

“Of course it is.  We can do whatever we want,” she answered.

“You sure?” Gator asked doubtfully, and it was Kirby’s turn to grin, shaking his head ruefully. 

“As long as you want to,” they agreed, holding their breath for his answer.

Gator shut his eyes for a long moment before opening them again, his gaze drifting from Kirby to Win and back, the corner of his mouth finally lifting as his expression softened.

“I think I’d like to give it a try,” he decided, his face dusted pink.

Win let out a cheer before piling on top of both of them.  “Finally!” she exclaimed, pulling Gator and Kirby closer, snuggled between them.  “Now, can someone make me some eggs and toast to help get rid of this hangover?”

“I can help with that,” Kirby chuckled, their heart fuller than it had been in a long time.

#im gonna reblog it again over here so its with my other kirby related writings!!! #i cannot believe this it's so wonderful #holding it in my hands like a little baby bird #gator tillman x oc #gator tillman #oc: win lewis #oc: kirby rivers #ot3: lewrivman #kirby rivers #my ocs #not mine #joz.fic

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Hi! I just wanted to tell you I've read your content so many times and would lose it when Tumblr would refresh and now! I finally found you again and followed you! Love the content you write, keep being amazing. 🖤💜

You... this... oh. 🥺🥺🥺🥺 this is so sweet I'm gonna crryyyyy!!! Thank you so much!!! Tumblr refreshing is now my arch nemesis. Curse youuuu tumblr refreeeeessshhh!!!! No but seriously this is so sweet and such a nice message to wake up too!!!!

P.s. - i adore your url!!! 💖💖💖

#nice things #asks #chaosgremlinmunson

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Whiskey Shots And Cheap Cigarettes

Kirby Rivers (oc) x Win Lewis (oc)

♤ Summary: Kirby brings Win a bottle of whiskey and they get to know each other a little bit.

♤ Warnings: oc x oc pairing, trans/nonbinary oc, Kirby uses he/him, drinking, talk of drug use, smoking, pre relationship, mentions of Gator Tillman, pre ot3.

♤ A/N: suprise! @jozstankovich some getting to know you stuff with our babies. I just feel like he would 100% reach out to her! I hope you like it! 💖💖 oh also, the title comes from the Green Day song Before The Lobotomy, one of my faves. 💚

♤♤♤♤

The door swings open and Kirby smiles up at her. She immediately smiles back, leans agaisnt the doorframe.

"I brought libations!" Kirby sings, holding up a bottle of Whiskey. His back arching a bit as he leans back.

"You're eyes are so red oh my god." Win laughs, shaking her head.

"It's been a good day." They lower their arm, shrugging, lazy smile on their face. Win leans forward a bit, eyeing the driveway.

"I walked." Kirby says, still smiling, blinking slowly.

"Can I?" He nods toward the door.

"Oh. Yeah. Of course, come on in." She steps away from the door, letting him pass, he gently hands her the bottle as he goes.

"That's for you. Not much of a drinker myself." Kirby says, absently, shrugging as he looks around her front room.

"That's a shame. I bet you'd be fun." Win says, twisting the cap as she walks to the kitchen.

"I'm always fun." Kirby says over his shoulder, then turns to her.

"Though there was one Halloween involving a very interesting acid trip that some people may argue I wasn't. But I had a good time." They smile when she laughs again, pours a bit of whiskey in a glass.

"Sure you don't want any? Not even a shot? Two shots?" Win asks, shaking the bottle gently above the counter top, eyes wide, waiting. Kirby crosses his arms.

"Are you trying to get me drunk Ms. Lewis?" Their head tilting, hip popped out a little, Win digs her teeth into her bottom lip as she looks at him, grinning.

"Drunk? Never. Cross faded, maybe a little bit." She nods, Kirby laughs, shakes his head.

"I will do two shots. And no more. Just cuz I'm stoned doesn't mean you can take advantage of me young lady." He points at her, walks over to the little half wall, bar window, type situation she's standing by, and watches her pour him a shot. She smiles wide when she hands it to him slowly.

"Hmm. I already regret this. Just so you know." He tilts his head at her, takes the shot, throws it back, and immediately starts coughing. Win laughs at him, head thrown back, and then takes the shot glass and refills it.

Kirby coughs into his elbow a few more times and then wiggles his fingers at her to give him the glass. He takes it, throws it back, and hacks and coughs again for a minute. Their eyes watering when they finally stop.

"Good right?" Win asks, still smiling.

"Oh yeah." He croaks, coughs again,

"Just the best." Kirby wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand, smiling at her when his eyes finally stop watering.

"So, watchin doin' here? I assume you knew Gator wasn't here with me." She sips at the whiskey in her glass, walks to the living room, twitching her head for Kirby to follow.

"Yeah his truck kinda sticks out like a sore thumb, now that I know it." Kirby shrugs, follows her to the couch and plops down at the opposite end.

"And I dunno, kinda got a lonely vibe from you when you were at the garage the other day. Thought maybe you'd want some company." He shrugs again, lets his head fall back against the couch, his hands laced together on his stomach.

"You think I'm lonely?" She asks, taking another sip,  her eyes on him. He doesn't look at her, their eyes shut as they breathe slowly.

"Mmm. Maybe not always. Just... this town's pretty lonely when you're an outsider." Kirby glances at her, smiles, closes his eye again.

"I know a little something about that. Figured I could help a friend in need." Their shoulders move again, just slightly, before they sink further into the couch. Win pulls her legs up, arm wrapped around one knee, whiskey glass resting on the couch near her foot.

"Are we friends?" She asks, quiet. Kirby turns his head, opens his eyes.

"If you wanna be. Yeah." He shrugs again, easy smile on his face. She smiles back, nods a few times.

"Okay. Friends. But I don't know anything about you." She says, eyeing him over her glass as she takes a sip. His eyes fall closed again, his hands rise off his stomach, palms out.

"What do you wanna know?" He asks, dropping his hands again. Win snorts.

"What, you wanna play twenty questions?" She asks, taking another sip. He groans.

"God no. I couldn't think of twenty questions right now if I tried. But you can ask twenty if you want. Or more. However many. I don't mind." Kirby smiles, his eyes fall closed again. She smiles at him, though he can't see her.

"What's your favorite color?" She asks, watches him smile, his eyes still closed.

"Hmmm... orange I think." He hums, raising a hand and rubbing at his nose before dropping it back to his stomach. Win watches him, watches his chest rise and fall under his thin, ratty t-shirt.

"Favorite band?" She asks. His face scrunches.

"That got so hard so fast." He mumbles, laughing as he pushes himself up a bit, eyes still closed.

"Iiiiii.... fuck I don't know. I listen to a little of everything. It depends on my mood I think. Been listening to Motely Crew a lot lately, though I wouldn't call them my favorite." He shakes his head, opens his eyes.

"Got any easier questions?" He cocks his eyebrow at her, smiles when she grins at him.

"Sure yeah. You single?" She drags her teeth over her lip through a smile and takes another sip of her whiskey. They huff a laugh, sit up a bit more, tuck their legs up onto the couch, knees pulled to their chest, facing her now.

"In this town? Yeah. Pretty damn single." He nods, pressing his lips to his knee.

"In this town." She repeats, gives him a look. He nods, glances at the window.

"Guy like me. With my... reputation." He wiggles his eyebrows at her, his hand on his chest. She grins.

"And what reputation might that be?" She asks, raising her glas to her lips.

"Oh ya know. Trans guy in a town like this? I'm sure you've been around enough to know people aren't exactly fond of anyone too different." He shrugs, gives her a small smile. She gives him one back.

"Yeah. I've noticed." She downs the last of her whiskey, sets her glass on the small table behind her.

"Thought you might have." They nod, rest their chin on their knee and then wave her on.

"Alright c'mon. More questions. Easy ones." He warns, points at himself.

"I got a lot going on over here so just, take it easy." He rubs at his red eyes with his knuckles and waves her on again. She laughs, shakes her head, and asks another question.

~°~

A few hours, and about thirty questions later, Kirby yawns, loudly. He moves his feet off the couch and stretches like a cat, back bowing as a ridiculous moan escapes him.

"Jesus. Okay." Win chuckles, stands, stretches herself, though silently, and grabs her glass off the table.

"You want some water or soda or somethin?" She asks, heading for the kitchen.

"What kinda soda ya got?" Kirby asks, patting at the pockets of his baggy black cargo shorts.

"Mainly Mountain Dew right now." She snorts, watches Kirby's face scrunch as he thinks.

"I'll take a water this time. Thanks. Hey can I smoke in here? I'll sit by the window, open it up." They look at her, their eyes wide.

"Yeah that's fine. I'll join you actually." She walks over, hands him the water. He tucks it under his arm, reaching for his pocket but stops when he sees Win tap her pack of cigarettes on her palm. His eyes lingering.

"What?" She huffs a laugh as he stares at her.

"That your brand?" He asks, nodding toward the pack.

"Well, yeah. Unless I'm feeling fancy. Then I get the Djarum Blacks." She doesn't take one out, just looks at Kirby, looking at her.

"Alright the cloves are nice, I'll give you that. But, these? Babes. C'mon." He taps her pack. She pulls it away from his reach, acting offended.

"What is wrong with these?" She looks from her cigarettes back to Kirby.

"They're little cheapy smokes. C'mon." He tilts his head, his nose scrunched. She rolls her eyes, can't help the thought that he's adorable that crosses her mind.

"You ever had a home rolled one?" Kirby asks, reaching for his pocket again.

"You are talking about cigarettes right? Not weed?" She teases, watches him pull a small tin out of his pocket.

"Yes. Tobacco. Not Marijuana." He smiles, pulls out a little white cigarette.

"My grandpa used to home roll. But I was too young then. Hadn't started smoking yet. But I always loved the smell." She tells him, takes a step closer. He holds the cigarette out to her, close to her nose.

"The fresh tobacco." He nods, understanding, as she leans the little ways too it and inhales. She sighs, nods.

"Yeah. That's it. That's the smell." She concedes. Kirby smiles, lowers himself to the carpet, crosslegged, his head just above the windowsill. Win lowers herself down next to him.

"Shall we then?" He asks, head tilted again.

"We shall." She smiles, watches him flip his zippo open and light it. Watches his cheeks hollow as he takes a drag, handing it to her as he exhales toward the window.

The first drag is heaven. The smoke curls in her mouth, down her throat, into her lungs. That slight burn following it. She smiles at the memories, lets the smoke fill her lungs and then sighs it out toward the window as well.

"Shit. You deal this too?" She asks, handing it back. Kirby laughs, a good laugh, head tilted back, hand on his stomach.

"Not typically. But for you? I could definitely hook you up. For sure." He chuckles, takes another drag.

They sit there, smoking, in silence for a while. Listening to late autumn crickets through the window. The chill in the air blowing through the screen, moving Win's hair against her cheek.

"Thanks for comin over." She nudges Kirby's knee with the back of her hand.

"You were right. I do get lonely sometimes." She admits, eyes on the floor as she takes the cigarette again.

"Anytime. You can always come to mine too ya know? Any time you want. I'm almost always there." He shrugs, smiles at her as she blows a few smoke rings.

"Good thing about working were I live. No rush hour traffic. Just me and my fight with my alarm everyday." She laughs at that, it echoes through her quiet house, hands the cigarette back.

"I might take you up on that. I'll bring Gator sometimes too. If you want?" She asks, voice cautious, glancing up at Kirby through her lashes. He looks at her, watches her watch him for a moment, and then nods. The corner of his mouth twitching as he takes a long drag, the last, its tip burning close to his fingers.

"That's fine." Is all Kirby says, his voice thick, like he wants to say more. But they don't.

Win gets up, grabs her ashtray. Kirby follows, stubs out the cigarette and wipes his hands down his shirt. It's a habit he has, from working on cars, always wiping something or other on his clothes while he works.

"Fuck me it's like, two in the morning." Kirby whistles, looking at the clock. Win's eyes follow his, suprise on her features.

"Wow. It doesn't seem like you've been here that long." Her brow furrows.

"That a bad thing?" Kirby asks, stepping slowly toward the door.

"No. Ya know what they say about time, and flying." Win assures him with a shrug, follows them to the door. He stands there, swaying a little, hands clasped behind his back as he smiles.

"Well. Thank you for the hospitality Winifred. I'll get outta your hair. Let you get to bed." He lets his head fall back, opens the door and steps through it with a little lazy twirl. She laughs at him, holding it open as he takes a few steps away.

"Thank you, for the whiskey. I'll come get in your hair sometime. Make a day of it." She crosses her arms, shrugs, nonchalant as she smiles after him.

"Sounds good. I'll have the cigarettes ready for you!" He calls, still walking slowly backwards away from her.

"Be careful walking home!" She calls.

"Im always careful!" He calls back, his foot hitting a rock, making him stumble, he shoots back up, points in her direction.

"That was a fluke!" They say, kicking the offending rock into the steet. Win laughs, shakes her head at them.

"Have a nice night Win!" Kirby calls, almost disappeared into the dark now, waving over his shoulder as he turns.

"You too Kirby!" She calls, waits til she can't see them anymore, and closes her door. She shuts the window, puts the bottle of Whiskey away and goes to grab the ashtray off the table. She stops in her tracks, picks the ashtray up, and smiles. Setting on the edge is a cigarette, home rolled, brand new.

She picks it up, tucks it behind her ear, and walks to her room. She sets the ashtray down, sets the cigarette back in it, and gets ready for bed.

She climbs under her sheets and gets cozy, runs her finger slowly along the pretty white paper of her small gift, and turns out the light. Smiling into her pillow thinking about her new friend, how easy it was to talk to them. How easily he made her laugh. She hugged her pillow tight and thought maybe this town wasn't so bad. Even if it was just her, Gator, and Kirby. Maybe that was enough to make it not so bad.

#kirby x win #kirby rivers x win lewis #oc fic #oc: kirby rivers #oc: win lewis #gift fic #my writing #mine #my fic

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

if you get this, answer with three random facts about yourself and send it to the last seven blogs in your notifs! anon or not, doesn’t matter, let’s get to know the person behind the blog <3

Oh hello hi. Thank you thank you.

Uuummmmm lemme seeeeee

I work in retail (we hate it bestie ✌🏻😘💖)

My eyes are Hazel

My brain is real fuzzy today and i cant think which is a thing that happens to me a lot so i guess is... sort of a fact. 🤷🏻🤣

#sorry i am so so bad about talkong about myself but thank you bless you for sending it #asks #anon

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

A Sweatervest and Squeaky Shoes

Gator Tillman x Kirby Rivers (OC)

[ Kirby's Bio ] [ Part One ] [ Part Two ]

♤ Summary: Kirby sneaks into the hospital to see Gator after everything that happens at the ranch.

♤ Warnings: canon x oc paring, nonbinary/trans oc, oc uses he/they pronouns, mentions of Gators torture, blind Gator

♤ A/N: once again for you my dearest! @jozstankovich 💚 Reblogs and comments are cherished and loved! 💖🍒💖

♤♤♤♤

Kirby's shoes squeak against the shiny hospital floor, he winces, runs his hands down his front for the millionth time since he left home. They feel ridiculous, a fucking sweatervest over the one, semi nice, t-shirt they have. He huffs, takes a deep breath, and ducks into the elevator.

It hadn't been hard to find out Gator's floor and room number. All the FBI agents milling about weren't exactly quiet. The issue would be getting into the room.

Kirby's fingers drum against his pant leg, his only nice pants as well. Black jeans, a little baggy, but they looked nice with the outfit. He tugs at the neckline of his shirt, uncomfortable, always are when they're wearing so many fucking clothes.

The doors slide open and Kirby pops his head out first. Checking both ways like he's crossing the street. Nobody there. Not a nurse or doctor in sight. He steps out, aims for casual as he walks down the hall, following the signs to the room number he'd overheard.

The nurses station is empty as well. The first person he sees is the gaurd on the door when he peeks around the corner. Kirby drops their head against the wall.

"Fuck." He breathes, his eyes move down the hall and land on the still empty nurses station. He runs back to it, hears footsteps behind him and ducks behind the desk.

He watches the guard walk around the corner and down the hall they'd come from.

"I'm headin down now." The man says into the radio on his shoulder. The radio crackles, Kirby doesn't understand what's said, but hears the man's response.

"Oh who cares if the door isn't guarded for ten fuckin minutes. Where's he gonna go? He's can't fuckin see. He ain't goin anywhere. I'm comin down." He's annoyed, Kirby hears the elevator doors open, and then close. They shoot back to their feet and run, their shoes squeaking the whole way. He rounds the corner too fast and nearly falls, runs into the wall and rights himself before jogging the last few steps to the door.

"Ten minutes." Kirby whispers to himself, rests his hand on the doorknob, just now realizing it might be locked. His heart pounding in his chest, he rests his head against the door, digs his teeth into his lip, and presses down.

The handle moves. Kirby nearly yells in celebration but hunches his shoulders and holds it in, pushes the door open the smallest possible amount, and quietly ducks inside. He turns once he's in, rests his back against the door, tries to catch his breath.

But his eyes adjust to the dark quickly, and he sees the curain pulled around the bed. His stomach twists, his heart kicking back up again. Their hands are sweating, they wipe them on their pants and take a few small, squeaky, steps forward.

"Who's there?" Gator's voice. He sounds scared, Kirby hears rustling as he moves on the hospital bed.

"It's me." Kirby says, his voice small to his own ears, and he realizes that might not be enough.

"K-Kirby?" His voice falters and shakes and it pulls Kirby forward. They move fast, ducking under the curtain, nearly getting tangled when they stand back up. His hands find the foot of Gator's bed and he pulls himself up, swats at the curtain until it falls away from his shoulders and then he turns.

Gator's eyes are covered, bright white bandages wrapped around his head. His hair is no longer neat and slicked back, strands falling into his face where they've come loose. There's dirt, and blood, Kirby's sure, staining the skin of his face and hands.

Kirby hears the whimper that leaves him, his hands clutching his stomach as he takes a few steps around the bed. Gator's head turns with the sounds of his shoes. And seriously what the fuck was on his shoes that was making them do that?

"Yeah." Kirby finally says,

"It's me." Their voice soft. Gator listens to the last few steps, and then hangs his head.

"How'd you get in here?" He asks, his fingers, dirty and bloodstained around the nails, pick at the sheets. Kirby swallows, hard, wipes at the tears falling over his cheeks.

"I uh," he clears his throat, tries again,

"I snuck past the guard. He went downstairs. Someone else is comin up I guess. Ten minutes." He repeats the time again, glances at the door, has no idea how long it's been. Gator nods, slowly.

"You'll be in trouble if they catch you in here." He's frowning, Kirby can see his eyebrows drawing down, pressing into the bandages.

"I've been in trouble before." Kirby says, teeth worrying into his lip, their hand twitches toward Gator, fingers jumping and dancing near his leg.

"Not this kinda trouble." Gator says, turns his head away, stubborn as always. Kirby huffs, grabs the chair by the bed and drags it loudly across the floor, scoots it close to Gator's bed and throws himself into it.

"I don't care! Gator. I just-" he sniffles, wipes at his face again.

"I saw the ranch on the news. They said people were dead." Kirby bites at the last word, takes a deep shaking breath he knows Gator can hear. Gator drops his head back onto the pillow behind him.

"I'm not dead." He sighs, fingers twitching on the bed sheets, and Kirby can't take it, he reaches out and grabs Gator's hand, presses his palm flat over the back of it, curls his fingers under and holds on. The rough material of the cast presses deep into his skin, he doesn't care, barely feels it. Just feels the skin underneath.

"I can see that. And I knew that. They said- they said you gave him up. Roy. On the news. They said a lot of other stuff. But I didn't really hear it." He cleared his throat again, another sniffle.

"Are you cryin?" Gator asks, his hand pressing up into Kirby's.

"No." Kirby denys immediately, watches the corner of Gator's mouth twitch.

"Shut up." He says, squeezes Gator's hand.

"I'm okay." Gator whispers it, turns his hand under Kirby's and slides his fingers between theirs, the best he can.

"Are you? What happened? Did your dad do this to you?" Kirby sniffles again, drags his free hand under his nose and keeps his eyes on Gator's face. He shakes his head slowly, his messy hair bunching up against the pillow.

"Not him. Same guy who did this." He wiggles his arm genlty, his hand clenching Kirby's as he moves it.

"Wh- I don't- why?" Kirby stammers, hates when he does that. Scrunches his face up at the bad memories of stammering through school, and rubs at his eye, pushing his knuckle deep for a distraction.

"Cuz I fucked up. I couldn't let it go." His lip wobbles, Kirby watches him pull it between his teeth and slam his head back into the pillow, once, hard.

"Hey! Don't. Just- don't do that." Kirby's on his feet now, his hand on Gator's head, moving some of his hair away from his face.

"I'm so fuckin stupid. I just couldn't let it go. And he fucking left me there. He just left me." His voice is strained now, Kirby can see his throat clenching. They bite their own lip, watching Gator's face, can he cry like that? Is there even anything behind the bandages to cry.

Kirby swallows around the fire in their throat and leans down, tucks their head against Gator's neck. He feels Gator's arms move around him slowly. His cast hard against their back, his other hand on their shoulder, gentle, moving slow, so he doesn't dislodge the IV in his hand.

"You're not stupid. You're just- so fucking stubborn Gate." Kirby sniffles again, rubs his tears and his nose on Gator's shoulder and pulls back. Gator's hand moves down his arm as they pull away, not wanting to stop touching him. Kirby doesn't ask who left him. Doesn't need to.

Kirby sees the small smile fade as Gator sits there. They move their fingers over his forhead, then along the bottom of the bandages. Kirby cups his face, smiles when Gator leans into the touch.

"Thanks for comin to see me." He mumbles, his casted hand moving to cover Kirby's, genlty, pulling it away from his face. He rests their tangled hands on the bed again as Kirby sits back down.

"Wild dogs couldn't have kept me away." Kirby sniffles again, but his chest feels lighter, with Gator in front of him, awake. Alive.

"What about a room full of spiders?" Gator asks, his finger pressing into Kirby's palm, just feeling him, touching him.

"Oh fuck that. You would'a been on your own sir." Kirby tells him, matter of fact. The laugh that bursts out of Gator makes Kirby smile so big his cheeks burn, tears falling again as Gator snorts and rubs at his nose carefully, shaking his head gently.

"Gee thanks." He says, voice flat.

"Hey. I got past the wild dogs man. Okay? I tried. I did my best." Kirby teases, bites his lip. Pulls Gator's hand to his mouth and kisses across his knuckles. His stomach fluttering when Gator presses his fingers into his lips, moves them up to his cheek, his thumb moving over Kirby's lips in their place.

"Seriously." Gator says, his head leaning forward.

"Yeah. Anytime. Told you I'd be there for you." Kirby shrugs, knows Gator can't see it. It doesn't matter.

"Are you- will you be able to see? When those come off?" Kirby asks, they pull Gator's hand back down, resting on the bed again. Gator's fingers twitch in his hold, he sniffs loudly, his other hand moving to fiddle with the bottom of the bandages resting on his cheek.

"They don't know yet. Not for sure. Said my left eye looked promising. Whatever that means." He shrugs, leans his head back again, sighing deep in his chest.

"I think it's what they say when they mean it's better than nothing." Kirby shrugs too, their eyes glued to Gator's face, their fingers twitch against the bedding. Curiosity burning under the surface.

"What did he do? Exactly. To your eyes?" Kirby blurts,  cringes when Gator turns his head toward him slowly.

"Sorry. Don't- you don't have to- answer that. Sorry." Kirby frowns down into their lap, shaking their head at themselves.

"He heated a knife in a fire and cut my eyes out. Or... he tried too. Guess he missed the left one." Gator's voice is emotionless.

"Jesus christ. What- fuck." Kirby says, oh so eloquently. Gator snorts, nods.

"Yeah. That sums it up pretty well." He says, noding again, his mouth a tight line.

"I shouldn't have asked." Kirby says, voice quiet.

"You wouldn't be you if you didn't." He says, quiet, Kirby's head whips up, there's a small tilt to Gator's mouth, like he wants to smile. Hell, that is a smile for him.

"Yeah?" Kirby asks, smiling, feeling giddy. Gator's not mad. Not mad that he can't control his fucking mouth. Gator nods, gives Kirby's hand a squeeze.

"Wish I could see you." He sighs, head falling back again.

"Oh yeah? How come? I haven't changed much in three days." They tease, teeth digging into their lip. Their cheeks feeling warm at the thought, that Gator wants to see them.

"Just tryin to image the looks people gave you when you walked in." Gator muses, his head turning, toward Kirby, even though he can't see them.

"What do mean?" Kirby frowns.

"Your clothes aren't usually hospital appropriate, is all." He shrugs again. Kirby makes an offended noise in his throat.

"I have nice clothes ya know? I'm actually dressed quiet well, currently. Thank you very much." Kirby scoffs, yanks his hand away from Gator's and crosses his arms over his chest. He watches Gator smile, can tell he's doubtful, even without the normal look in his eyes.

"Oh yeah? What'er you wearing?" He asks, voice teasing already. Kirby looks down at himself, at the sweatervest he immediately regretted, and grimaced.

"Umm ya know what? That's not- that's neither here nor there. I'm here. With you. That's really all that matters." Kirby rambles, pats at Gator's hand. He chuckles, grabs for Kirby's hand and misses.

"Are you wearing something embarrassing?" Gator asks, smile on his face.

"You have to tell me if you are. I'm wounded. It's only fair." His hand reaches toward Kirby. They scoff again, tucking their legs up under them on the chair.

"How's that fair? I didn't wound you!" He swats at Gator's hand gently as he laughs.

"C'mon. Tell me what you're wearing." Gator pushes, his voice all curled at the edges and sweet. Kirby sighs.

"Ughh. At least buy me dinner first." Kirby mutters, scrambling around in the chair til his knees are tucked up under his chin, Gator's eyebrow twitches up, clearly amused.

"I'm wearing a sweatervest okay? Do not laugh! It's from one of my foster moms and it's very cozy. Okay? So just, hush it." Kirby points at Gator, accusingly. Gator can't see it, but he raisies his hands in surrender anyway.

"What color is it?" Gator asks, biting his lip.

"It's like a blue grey color. With black and white argyle down the front?" Kirby looks down at himself, smoothes his hands down his chest again, his feet falling to the floor.

"What's- which ones argyle?" Gator asks, frowning.

"The diamonds." Kirby tells him. He nods, seems to think for a second.

"Is it soft?" He's worrying his lip between his teeth again.

"Yeah. Here." Kirby stands, walks the two steps to the bed and takes Gator's hand, moves it to rest on his stomach. Gator's brows twitch again, suprised at the softness against his skin.

"I got a black t-shirt on under it." Kirby mumbles, ignores the way Gator pressing his fingers into his stomach makes him feel hot. More hot than all the fucking clothes he's wearing.

"And just some black jeans. No holes or nothin in 'em." Kirby scratches at the back of their neck, watches Gator pull the materal of the vest between his fingers, then watches him smooth it back down. His hand presses to Kirby's stomach again and he ducks away with an awkward giggle, rubbing at the spot Gator's hand had touched.

"Sorry. Ticklish." Kirby explains, grabs at the chair and scoots it a bit closer, til his legs hit it and he falls into it.

"Figures." Gator sighs.

"What?" Kirby frowns.

"The one time I can't see you, you're actually wearing clothes." Gator shakes his head.

"I wear... clothes." Kirby drawls, knows it's only a half truth, really, at best. Gator snorts a laugh.

"Sure ya do. Pretty sure this the first time you've ever worn an actual shirt around me." Gator says, the eyeroll is implied.

"You got a problem with my clothes man?" Kirby asks, tucks one knee up under his chin, smiles when Gator moves his head toward him again.

"No. I'm just sayin, ya know, just my luck that I can't see ya when there's nothin to look at." Gator's fingers move nervously against the sheets, tapping out random little rhythms.

"I mean not that I was... lookin. I'm just- just sayin." He sighs deeply, turns his head away as his cheeks and neck turn red. Kirby bites their lip.

"I saw you looking Gator." Kirby says, through a smile, presses his lips to his knee when Gator turns back to him.

"What? When? I thought I was bein subtle." Gator scratches at his cheek, his fingers brushing the edge of the bandages again.

"You weren't. At all. Like, not even a little." Kirby shakes their head at him.

"I saw you looking like, the second time you came to me for weed dude. It's why I invited you inside." Kirby tells him, chin resting on his knee now, he sees Gator's eyebrows jump up his forehead.

"What did you- did you think somethin was gonna happen?" Gator asks, sounding scandalized. Kirby laughs, shakes his head.

"No. But I figured inviting you in might make you relax. Get your hands out of your pockets and your shoulders down from around your ears. You were so tense man." Kirby chuckles at the memory.

"I didn't know if it was because you were buying weed. Or because of me." They sigh.

"Saw you lookin and figured maybe it was cuz of me. Or maybe it was both. Either way, inside was away from prying eyes." Kirby shrugs, reaches out and takes Gator's hand again.

"I didn't mind you looking. Just- wasn't sure what you were thinkin when you were." They squeeze Gator's hand, he squeezes back.

"I wasn't sure at first. I mean I wasn't- that's not something- that's allowed. In my house." Gator shakes his head. Kirby nods.

"I know. That's why I never did anything. Or said anything. I figured- if you wanted to do something about it, I'd just let you." Kirby turns Gator's hand in his, his fingers walking over the cast, moving to his arm and up his shoulder.

"Let you go at your own pace. Find your own way." Kirby scratches at Gator's shoulder and then drags his hand back down his arm, Gator sighs, leans into the touch.

"I'm just glad I figured it out." Gator mumbles, rubs at his nose.

"Glad I was brave enough to do somethin about it. That night. After the lake." Gator smiles, his body relaxing into his bed more.

"Me too." Kirby smiles, watches Gator for a moment.

"I should go. Let you get some rest. Are they- are they taking you away?" He'd been afraid to ask, his voice shaking a little, his heart picking up again.

"Yeah. Don't know how long. But my step mom. Or- my old step mom. Nadine. Or- she's goes by Dorthy now. Dot. She's- she said she'd visit. Bring me cookies. Anything else I need too." Gator shrugs, tries to play it off. Kirby sees his chest flutter, watches his lip wobble.

"I'll come visit too. Everyday if you want? I'll visit so much you'll get sick'a me." Kirby perks up, scoots forward in his chair, perched on the edge like a bird. Gator frowns, his hand going still in Kirby's.

"You'd come visit?" He sounds uncertain, like he thinks it might be a trick.

"Course I would. Snuck in here to see ya didn't I?" Kirby assures him, watches Gator's lip tremble again before he drags his teeth over it, he nods, swallows hard.

"Okay. Th-thanks." Gator stammers, Kirby opens their mouth to answer but the door clicking open cuts him off. Gator squeezes his hand, hard, Kirby's eyes are locked on where the door would be if there was no curtain.

"Shit." He breathes, barely makes a sound.

"Don't you worry. I won't be a minute." A woman's voice says, high and thick with that accent Kirby's come to enjoy so much. He moves his eyes to Gator when he loosens his grip. The door clicks shut again. Footsteps, coming toward them. The curtain pulls to the left and brings them face to face with a small mousy woman. Her eyes widen when they land on Kirby.

"Oh. Hey there." She says, easy, her suprise fading fast. She glances at the door, then back to Kirby.

"You sneak in during the shift change?" She asks, voice lowered. Kirby swallows, nods, too frightened to speak. She nods back, gives him an adorable smile.

"That was my plan too if they wouldn't let me in." She scrunches her face, her eyes land on Kirby and Gator's hands, their fingers still laced together, Kirby pulls their hand free quickly, shoves both hands into his lap.

"You a friend'a Gator's?" She asks, sweetly, as she moves around the other side of the bed.

"This is Kirby Na- sorry. Dorthy." Gator grimaces at his mistake. The woman doesn't seem to notice, just smiles at him, and then at Kirby, her hand moving to Gator's head, fingers dragging smoothly through his hair.

"It's a pleasure to meet ya Kirby. I'm Dorthy. Gator's... Gator's friend too." She hesitates, her eyes dropping to Gator's face and then back to Kirby.

"I saw you on the news ma'am." Kirby says, manners from a foster home long gone kicking in. She smiles at him again, and it's soft, and warm, and feels safe.

"Oh yeah? I'm sure I looked a mess." She shakes her head, laughs a little.

"You looked fine. Looked nice. Just- looked like a mom." Kirby shrugs, and she had. She'd looked a little rough around the edges, but ultimately, she'd looked like a mom, trying to get back to her kid.

"Well that's sweet of ya to say." She waves him off, looks back to Gator, her hand still in his hair.

"There gonna be takin him in about ten minutes. I just wanted to say goodbye. Til I see ya again." She leans down, kisses Gator's forhead. He smiles, nods, his teeth embedded in his lip so hard Kirby's worried it'll bleed. He's trying not to cry. Can't speak because of it.

"If you give me five minutes I'll distract 'em so you can sneak out. If ya want?" She's looking at Kirby again. He stares, doesn't mean to, but she's... odd. In a good way. Like she understands things, sees things the way Kirby does sometimes.

"Okay. I mean yeah that'd be- thanks." Kirby nods. She nods back, kisses Gator's head one more time, walks around the bed to Kirby.

"It's very nice to meet you Kirby." There's a weight to her words that Kirby feels deep in his chest. She doesn't know him, doesn't know them at all, but she means it. Kirby reaches out, takes her hand, shakes.

"You too ma'am. Really." He stands, she smiles, tugs him into a quick hug, just a tight squeeze, and then she's gone. The door shutting slowly behind her. When Kirby turns back, Gator is reaching for him, casted hand outstretched. Kirby grabs it immediately, crowds close to him on the bed.

"You gotta go." Gator whispers, pulling Kirby's hand to his chest.

"I know. I don't wanna." Kirby breathes, his head dropped to Gator's shoulder.

"Will you do me a favor? Before you go?" Gator asks, his voice shaking, Kirby can feel him trembling.

"Of course. What is it?" They ask, leaning up so they can see him. Gator's head is turned towards him, if he could see, he wouldn't be looking quite at him, just off to the side.

"Will you kiss me?" He licks his lips.

"I mean like really kiss me. So I know what it's like? So I get to have that? With you. Before I go." His head droops, his shoulders shake, Kirby thinks he might be crying, best he can. They take a deep breathe, and reach out, cupping Gator's face and tilting it up again.

"I'll kiss you anytime you want." Kirby whispers, breathes it like a promise against Gator's lips and then kisses him. Slow and deep. Gator clings to him, both hands fisted in the back of his shirt, pulling them closer. He whines into Kirby's mouth and groans when he pulls away.

"Any time you want." He breathes again, teeth dragging over Gator's bottom lip as he pulls back. Gator chases his lips, leans forward and groans again when Kirby presses their hand to his chest, stopping him.

"I'm gonna miss you." Gator breathes, and it sounds broken, his voice wrecked.

"Naw, you won't. I'm gonna be there every day 'memeber?" He moves his hand up, from Gator's chest to his hair, moves his fingers into it, scratches them against Gator's scalp and smiles when he hums, presses into the touch.

"You'll be sick'a me in no time." Kirby leans down, presses another quick kiss to his lips. He sees Gator open his mouth, to argue, he's sure. When they hear a crash in the hall, voices yelling, moving away from the door.

"That's my cue. I'll see you soon Gate. Real soon." Kirby squeezes his shoulder and moves away, keeping his eyes on Gator til he's at the door. Gator's hand raises in a wave, his fingers wiggling over his cast as the other hand presses to his lips. Kirby smiles, tears falling down his cheeks, and ducks out the door.

He steps into chaos, Dorothy is down the hall a bit, laying on the floor, hand to her head. The gaurd on Gator's door and three nurses surround her. She meets his eyes through the guards legs and winks. He nods to her, still smiling, and bolts down the hall, his shoes screeching against the tiles as he runs and runs, ducking into the elevator and out of sight.

#gator tillman #gator tillman x kirby rivers #gator x kirby #oc: kirby rivers #gator tillman x oc #gator tillman x original character #my ocs #my writing #mine #my fic #making them a ship name now cuz i think its funny are you ready!?!?! #rivergator #get is cuz gators ... its fine I'll go. hahaha

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

@danili666 🤣🤣🤣🤣 AHHHH THANK YOU FRIEND!!!! get some sleep bbyyyyyy!!! 😴😴😴

fanfic writers on tumblr

their writing: the dawn breaks and you are anew. the person you once were vanished. the rising sun offers a fire to burn her to ashes.

me: hey there- i just wanted to you to know your work is amazing. i love reading your writing. please continue! it is so eloquent. your wording and command of the english language are just incredible. you show such a deep emotional intelligence.

them: lol ya i do a write sometimes thnx bb [gif of the rock]

#.....ive just proved the point of this post BUT THATS OKAY! #nice things #reply

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Let's Not Talk About It

Gator Tillman x Kirby Rivers (OC)

[ Kirby's Bio ] [ part one ]

♤ Summary: Gator gets his arm broken, shows up at Kirby's the next morning. Both of them are bad at talking about their pain.

♤ Warnings: canon × oc pairing, nonbinary/trans oc, oc uses he/they pronouns, drug use, angst, mentions of past abuse

♤ A/N: just gonna keep mentioning @jozstankovich because they're my little cheerleader and i love them so! Suprise! Have another chapter! There might be oooonnnee more after this! 🤭 Reblogs and comments are cherished and loved! 💖🍒💖

♤♤♤♤

Kirby had just slid underneath Mrs. Abernathy's blue Honda when he heard Gator's truck pull in. He slid the oil bucket under, popped the canister out and let it drain before sliding back out as Gator's footsteps approached, too slow. And far too early in the morning.

Kirby squinted up at him, ignoring the little swoop in their stomach at seeing him so early in the day, squinting against the barely risen sun, his eyes land on the cast on his arm, then the cirlces under his eyes. He lays there, on his back looking up as Gator stops near his feet.

"Well you look like shit." Kirby says, one eye squinted shut as the sun shines down around Gator's shoulders.

"Gee thanks." Is all Gator says. Kirby nods, takes a deep breath.

"Lemme get this changed real quick. There's coffee inside if you want some." Kirby slides back under the car as Gator heads for the house. They do their best to not get oil all over themselves. Doesn't work. Kirby rolls back out from under the car, job done, oil covering his hands and dripping down his arms.

"Fucks sake." He mutters as Gator walks back out, two mugs in his hands. He takes one look at Kirby and sets their cup on the workbench before taking a careful sip of his own.

"Wasn't this car just here?" Gator nods to the Honda, eyes moving over it like he thinks it's gonna jump at him or something. Or maybe he's just focusing on it so he doesn't have to look at Kirby. Either way, his eyes stay glued to the car, and away from Kirby.

"Yeah. It's Mrs. Abernathy's. I guess her husband used to tinker all the time. Just everyday. He used to be doing something to it." He grabs a rag, starts wiping at his arms.

"He passed away about six months ago. So she keeps bringin' in to me. I think it makes her feel better to have somebody workin on it." Kirby shakes his head, grabs the bottle of orange scub soap off the work bench and squirts a pool of it into his palm.

"There's not really much needs done to it. But I like to check the simple stuff, windshield wipers, plugs, oil changes, tire pressure. All that kinda stuff." He walks over to the  faucet on the side of the garage, turns it on and rubs the soap over his hands all the way up to his elbows.

"You charge her for all'a that?" Gator asks, eyebrows raised as he glances Kirby's way, watches him lather his arms, scrubbing the oil off his skin.

"Huh? Naw. She buys weed too, on her way out, I just let that cover it." They shove their hands under the water, wincing at the cold.

"And don't be tellin anybody else that. I don't wanna hear about one of you deputies charging that nice old lady with drug possession or some shit." He points his finger accusingly at Gator. He raises his free hand, the one sporting the nice new cast, moves his fingers over his lips and mimes tossing the key over his shoulder.

"Mhm. You better." Kirby wipes his wet arms and hands on his clean-ish coveralls, he'd actually had the sense to not wipe the oil there today.

"So what happened to your arm?" They lean back against the work bench, pick up the mug of coffee and take a sip. Gator's eyes hit the ground immediately, his shoulder jumping once.

"Broke it." Is all he says.

"Oh yeah? Is that why they put casts on people? I just thought people were trying to spice up their lives. Do you like the spice girls?" Kirby asks, head tilted to the side. Gator just blinks at him, frowning.

"Yeah. They don't really seem like your type of music. Though I mean you never know. Some people like all kinda stuff. Maybe you should give'em a try." Kirby shrugs, looks Gator pointedly up and down.

"Might spice up your mood at least." Kirby smiles when Gator looks at him, levels him with a bitchy scowl.

"Funny." Gator says, voice dry. Kirby snorts at him, gives him a toothy grin and a little eyebrow wiggle, takes another sip of coffee, and lets the quiet of the morning settle over them for a minute. Gator keeps his eyes away, looking out over the junkyard, the sun hitting his face turning his skin gold. Kirby looks him up and down again, no Sheriff's vest today, and no Sheriff's hat. Just his white and green cap, backwards, sunglasses on the back, doing him no good as he squints into the sun.

He's got his carhart on, jeans, boots. He looks different this way, holds himself different. Kirby watches him switch his coffee mug to his good hand with a grimace.

"You wanna talk about it?" Kirby tries, leaning forward a bit, his butt still against the workbench. Gator glances his way, eyes dark, and takes a drink, says nothing. Kirby nods.

"Got it. Fair enough." They scratch at their hair, look at their nails for a minute, noticing all the dirt they missed. Kirby chews as some loose skin on his thumb, eyes moving over Gator again. His shoulders are tense, his legs too, he hasn't kicked at the dirt in the yard once this morning.

"You wannaaaaa ...smoke about it?" Kirby offers, waiting for Gator to turn to him before he dips two fingers into the big front pocket of his overalls and drags a joint out, wiggling his hand. Gator takes a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing a bit, and nods, looking tired, but Kirby sees a small smile there too..

"Cool. Let's go inside. Way more comfortable. And there's food in there. Which we will need, obviously." Kirby tucks the joint behind his ear and heads for the door. Gator falls in line next to him, his steps in synch, his shoulder bumping into Kirby's and staying pressed there as they walk to the house. Warmth blooms through Kirby at the contact, he shakes his head, tells himself it's just the morning sun.

~°~

"You need any pain meds?" Kirby asks, their feet kicked up next to Gator's as they both melt into his couch, pressed together from knee to shoulder, the tv playing some old black and white movie.

"I got some. Just the regular shit. Like Tylenol or whatever." Gator shakes his head slowly, takes a drag, passes it back to Kirby.

"If you need somethin stronger let me know." Kirby takes a drag, taking care not to burn his fingers as the blunt shrinks down, and drops the last little bit into the ashtray on the table between their feet.

"You sell stronger shit?" Gator asks, head turning in their direction, resting on the back of the couch. Kirby turns too, shakes his head.

"No. I bought stronger shit. For me. And I'm offering to share one or two with you. Different thing." Kirby corrects, patting Gator's knee, he contemplates leaving his hand there, just resting on Gator. But they don't wanna push, don't wanna chance that it'll freak him out, make him run, so he pulls back, drops his hand on his stomach and closes his eyes.

"Maybe one." Gator sighs, Kirby opens their eyes to see him wincing, clenching and unclenching his casted hand. Kirby nods.

"If you wanna like... take a nap or something too, you can. Won't bother me none. I gotta get back to work soon." Kirby leans up, pulling himself from the couch, is about to stand up when Gator's hand touches his back. Kirby freezes, their breath catching in their throat as Gator's warm fingertips move over the skin across his shoulder blades, exposed under his overalls cuz he never puts on a shirt underneath.

"Why do you need strong pain meds?" Gator practically whispers it, his voice so low Kirby leans toward him, hears Gator hum when they don't answer, his fingers moving in slow circles across his skin making Kirby's head feel a little fuzzy.

"Um... it's- well cuz I'm in pain. A lot." Kirby stumbles over the words, when Gator presses his palm flat against his back, right over his spine, between his shoulder blades. Kirby can't help the shiver. Isn't used to such gentle touches. Especially not from Gator. He swallows roughly, looks over his shoulder to see Gator looking at him, his eyes hooded, but on him.

"Pain from what?" Gator moves his hand, over to Kirby's shoulder, and back across, his fingers tickling the base of Kirby's neck.

"Just pain. Chronic. From working on cars. My hands. My- my back. Sometimes my hips but that's- from somethin else." Kirby shakes his head, rolls his eyes at himself a bit, looks back to Gator and finds a small smile on his lips.

"From what?" He asks, his fingers trailing down Kirby's arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Oh just, stupid kid shit. Ya know, jumpin off shit I shouldn't have. Bein friends with the wrong people. Normal shit." They shrug, their eyes not able to meet Gator's now. His fingers dance down their wrist and then smooth over the back of his hand where it's resting on his thigh. Gator's hand is warm where it covers his. And it does, cover his. Though that's not much of a feat, Kirby's got small fucking hands, small like the rest of him. He stares, watches Gator curl his fingers around and under, holding his hand like it's something precious.

"Wrong people. Did somebody hurt you?" Gator asks, leaning up himself now, his shoulder pressed to Kirby's back. Kirby swallows, feels how dry his throat is and tries not to cough.

"I mean. Yeah. Lotta people have hurt me." He shrugs, his shoulder moving against Gator, jostling him the smallest amount. Gator drops his head to Kirby's shoulder, his eyes falling shut as he nods against him.

"Who hurt you?" Kirby asks, turning his hand under Gator's, he'd tried so hard not too, to keep still, but they had to, had to touch him, to hold his hand. Gator's fingers lace between his, his head still on Kirby's shoulder.

"Some asshole. Got the jump on me. Snapped both bones with one hand. How fuckin crazy is that?" Gator mumbles, not lifting his head. A pang of worry, and fear, shoots through Kirby's chest.

"Yeah. Crazy." He breathes, his thumb soothing over Gator's.

"Might take you up on the nap Kirb." Gator sighs, nuzzling against their shoulder, his head moving back, til his nose is nearly pressed to Kirby's neck.

"Okay. You want the couch or the bed?" Kirby asks, can feel himself trembling now, Gator pulls his hand free, his arm snaking around behind Kirby, resting against his waist, but not holding him, not yet.

"Couch is pretty comfy." Gator mumbles, his nose brushing Kirby's ear as he moves.

"Bed's even better. I got all kinda pillows and blankets in there. Not to mention the insense. Nice and relaxing." Kirby bites his lip, his fingers moving over Gator's knee genlty. Gator snorts into his shoulder, his arm jumping against Kirby's waist, hand curling over his hip.

"You're such a fuckin hippy." Gator scoffs, genlty, into the skin of their shoulder, his hand giving Kirby's hip a squeeze before he leans back, eyes moving over Kirby's face slowly.

"But that does sound nice." He nods. Kirby nods back.

"Bed then." He says, forcing himself to stand, to pull himself away from Gator's warmth. It almost works. But Gator stands with him, his arm not moving from Kirby's waist.

"Bed." Gator nods, leans forward, ducks his head low and presses his lips to Kirby's naked shoulder, moves them across the skin there and then turns and walks away, his hand dragging over Kirby's back genlty as he pulls away.

"Bedrooms on the left right?" Gator asks, not turning back.

"Yep. Yeah. It's- yeah." Kirby sighs, watches Gator duck into his room and moves himself. He grabs a pain pill from the kitchen cabinet, and a glass of water, and follows him into the room.

Gator's alread settling down into the bed, his jacket thrown over the foot of it. Kirby hands him the pill, watches him take it, and sets the water on the nightstand.

"Get cozy. I'm gonna go change a tire and then investigate a mysterious 'click click' sound coming from Mr. Guthery's old ford." Kirby jerks their thumb over their shoulder toward the garage.

"You need to be up at certain time? Or can I just let you sleep?" Kirby rubs his hand over his arm, watching as Gator nods off in front of him.

"Gotta be home before dinner." Gator slurs, his face snuggling into Kirby's pillow.

"Kay. I'll wake you up at four if you're still sleeping. That okay?" Kirby's not expecting an answer. But Gator nods, hums low in his throat.

"Mhm. S'good." He sighs, his body visibly relaxing as he falls alseep. Kirby smiles down at him, shakes his head. He drags his finger over the blue cast on his arm, his stomach twisting with worry again. They trace their fingers tips over the frown lines between his brows, soothing them out til he looks peaceful.

Kirby brings his fingertips to his lips, presses a kiss there, then presses his fingers to Gator's temple, just a soft touch, Gator hums in his sleep, his lips twitching up into a small smile. Kirby smiles down at him, watches his chest rise and fall for a few more moment's, and then leaves him there to rest.

~°~

Kirby's making a sandwich around three when he hears Gator get up. He shuffles into the bathroom and Kirby smiles when he hears him stub his toe on the wonky sink vanity, curses echoing down the hall. They're grabbing for a tomato when they feel him.

Gator steps up behind them, presses himself against their back. Kirby's breath catches again, he drops the tomato and Gator snorts a laugh into his neck. His arms wrap around them, pull them close.

"How'd the 'click click' noise turn out?" Gator asks, chin resting on their shoulder. Kirby smiled, picked the tomato back up and started slicing.

"Turned out to be more of a 'clunk clunk' sound. And it was just an old muffler that needed replacing. Not too shabby for a days work." Kirby shrugged, making sure to move the shoulder Gator was on extra high. He made a strangled noise and poked at Kirby's side, they squirmed in his arms, plopping a slice of tomato onto their sandwich.

"You want one?" Kirby asks, glancing to the side, trying to see Gator's face. He tucks his chin down, pressing his lips to Kirby's sun warmed skin and shakes his head.

"Naw. I gotta go." He says, words muffled. Kirby hums, laughs when Gator reaches out, picks up a peice of turkey and shoves it in his mouth.

"I'll come back soon though." He says through his mouthful, hands moving to Kirby's hips.

"When I can." He shrugs, voice gone quiet. He tucks his face into Kirby's neck, his nose nuzzling right behind his ear. Kirby bites his lip to hold in the whine that threatens to crawl up his throat.

"Okay. Be- be careful." Kirby whispers, knows he sounds breathless, and worried. Gator's arms wrap back around him, pulling him close. Kirby feels his lips press to their neck, soft and warm.

"I'm always careful." Gator breathes the words against his neck, squeezes Kirby in his arms and then he's gone again. Shrugging his jacket on as Kirby watches him leave. He looks over his shoulder once as he goes, Kirby standing at the door, arms crossed, watching as Gator smiles at him before climbing into his truck and driving away with a little one finger salute.

Kirby watches him go, and tries to ignore the sense of worry blooming in chest. Tries to ignore the fact that it feels more like dread curling around his heart. Tries to ignore the sinking feeling that whatever it is, it's heading straight for Gator, and there's nothing he can do to stop it, or keep him safe from it.

He goes back inside, eats his lunch and smokes another half a joint. Then shuffles down the hall to his room. Kirby falls into their bed, pulls their pillow close, and sighs when they smell Gator's hair gel, the scent lingering on his pillow case. He holds it close, breathes Gator in, and drifts off to sleep hoping, and absently praying to a god he doesn't believe in, that Gator will be okay. That he'll be safe.

The nasty little voice that comes out to play when he's alone, and worried, or scared, whispers that he won't be, and there's nothing Kirby can do to change what's coming. He falls asleep frowning. Falls into the dark, and dreams of Gator screaming for help that won't come.

#my writing #my fic #gator tillman #gator tillamn x kirby rivers #gator x kirby #oc: kirby rivers #my ocs #gator x oc

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Kirby Rivers {OC}

Faceclaim: Billie Joe Armstrong

Fandoms: Marmalade, Fargo

Age: 25 - 30 - could be younger or older, depends on the fandom and situation.

Birthday: July 19th 1990

Birthplace: Oakland NJ

Gender: afab trans/nonbinary

Height: 5"3

Sexuality: Bisexual

Hair: black, but it's typically dyed or bleached, he keeps it bleached most of the time

Pronouns: he/they

Eyes: Green

Parents: none, he's a foster kid

Religion: no thank you. But they'd say Agnostic

Occupation: Mechanic, Drug Dealer, lives at and owns a junkyward/car garage. He fixes a lot of older folks' cars for good prices, and smokes some of them out, if they're into that. A suprising number of them are. Mrs. Abernathy made him some BOMB cookies once when they were high. Best cookies he's ever had.

Background: Grew up in foster homes and state facilities, moved around and eventually ran away and has been on their own since. Settled in Minnesota about a year ago (for Fargo au).

Phobias: spiders, cages/being locked inside places, being made fun of and not realizing it, mold

(Not So) Guilty Pleasures: Sleeping (just whenever, any time he can), weed, cherrylemon sour gummy worms, dark chocolate, wearing as little as he can get away with, stealing Gator's hats

Hobbies: swimming, painting, drums, watching old black and white monster movies, being annoying on purpose, fixing up old cars

R E L A T I O N S H I P S

Marmalade: Baron/Kirby

Fargo: Gator/Kirby, Gator/Kirby/Win Lewis (oc)

Ot3: Gator/Kirby/Win Lewis (oc)

#oc: kirby rivers #kirby rivers #oc posting #oc bio #kirby rivers bio #mine

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

A Day At The Lake

Gator Tillman x Kirby Rivers (OC)

♤ Summary: Gator met Kirby through his old weed guy when he left town and left Kirby as someone Gator could go to for pot. He started hanging out there more, after the inital shock that is Kirby. Gator can't seem to stay away from them, and doesn't really want too. Kirby suggests a day at the lake so Gator can relax for a bit.

♤ Warnings: canon x oc pairing, nonbinary/trans oc, oc uses he/they pronouns, slight angst, brief mentions of drug use.

♤ a/n: i wrote this for @jozstankovich because they've been single handedly encouraging my writing of OC stories and because they've fallen in love with my little goblin boy and i couldn't be more flattered! Hope you guys enjoy it too! Reblogs and comments are cherished and loved! 💖🍒💖

♤♤♤♤

"Hey do they ever- ooow." Kirby rubs the back of his head, glaring at the open hood they'd smacked it on before moving their eyes to Gator.

"They ever let you have days off? You don't work like... seven days a week or some shit do you?" He asks, watching Gator's feet swing genlty under the tailgate he's sitting on. He scoffs, rolls his eyes, adjusts the backwards cap he's wearing.

"Course I get days off. Why?" His eyes narrow in suspicion. Kirby shrugs, whipes some grease on his overalls.

"Just wonderin. When's your next one? And doooo you have plans?" Kirby draws, points at Gator and waits, stares. Gator snorts, shakes his head, rubs at the back of his neck.

"Tuesday. I'm off Tuesday. Why you wonderin?" He asks, his lip tugged between his teeth.

"I just had an idea. Thought maybe you'd wanna come to the lake with me? Just have a chill day. Away from all'a," he gestures to Gator, their hand motioning to all of him,

"This. Just get away." Kirby shrugs, ducks back under the hood and starts tinkering again, tightening all the bolts he'd loosened.

"You wanna go to the lake? You fish or somethin?" Gator asks, Kirby hears him jump down from his little perch on the tailgate. Kirby snorts.

"Absolutely not. Too slimey. I just swim man. Swimmings nice. Keeps you cool. Sometimes there's turtles. You don't swim?" Kirby asks, talking and talking, rapid fire, like always.

"Sometimes. I guess." Gator's voice sound farther away now, Kirby lowers their head, looking under his arm to see Gator looking through the crowded fridge in the garage.

"Beer's on the left behind the ketchup." Kirby comments, looks back to his work, slips his wrench onto the last bolt and gives it a few tugs til it's nice and snug. He ducks lower than he needs too when he stands, making sure not to smack their head again. He shuts the hood and turns to find Gator holding out a cherry coke.

"Thanks." They nod, pop it open and take a swig as Gator does the same to his beer.

"What time?" Gator asks, not looking at Kirby, his eyes fixed on something over their shoulder. Kirby turns to look, doesn't see anything, shakes his head and turns back.

"I dunno. Let's saaaaayyyy...eight? Eight thirty?" Kirby shrugs, takes anothrr drink.

"That early? It's my day off man." Gator scoffs. Kirby rolls his eyes, wipes their free hand on their overalls again, trying and failing, to get the grease from between his fingers.

"Oh boo hoo. You don't have to come. I just thought I'd offer." He walks to the garage, tucks his tools into their places.

"I will be bringing some choice product with me. If that... influences your decision at all." Kirby looks over their shoulder, eyebrows high on his head as he watches Gator kick at the ground.

"I didn't say I wouldn't come. S'just early." He mutters, his boot twisting in the small divot his kicking had made.

"Oh. Well cool. Let's call it nine then. Let sleeping beauty get his rest huh?" Kirby teases, walks past Gator and kicks at his foot.

"Stop that. I'm trying to run a respectable business here." Kirby admonishes, Gator kicks back, Kirby dodges him, quick on their feet. Gator laughs when he nearly spills his cherry coke, his feet immediately tangling together after the smooth dodge.

"Alright. Nine it is." Gator bites his lip.

"You don't swim while you're high do you?" He asks, rubbing at the back of his neck again, eyes landing on Kirby briefly and then darting away again.

"Awww. You worried about me Deputy?" Kirby tilts their head, bats his eyelashes, his hand on his chest over his heart. Gator flushes a nice shade of pink and snorts, sniffs, wipes at his nose with an eyeroll.

"No. Just seein if I need to be prepared to carry your body out of a lake when you drown is all." Gator says, easy, still doesn't look at Kirby. He hasn't lately. Been looking at him. Won't meet their eye after he'd showed back up.

Ignoring Kirby for weeks. Until Kirby figured it out. Made a peace offering. And it worked. He understood now. He got it. Why Gator had run away. Kirby's beautiful , straight, deputy friend, was having some not so straight feelings about him. Or thoughts. Maybe thoughts and feelings. Kirby didn't mind either way. But he wouldn't push.

He'd just hidden a small stash of his best stuff in Gator's truck. Shot him a text. And hoped for the best. The best was Gator showing up a week later. Needing more weed, and not meeting Kirby's eyes. But he was here. And still joking around like they used too. So Kirby shoved down his own feelings, gave Gator cheap prices on good weed, and invited him to the fucking lake.

Kirby shakes his head, pulling themself from their thoughts.

"Won't be my body in the lake man. I'm a great swimmer." He says, immediately almost tripping over a stray peice of junk on the ground.

"Shit. That came outta nowhere." He huffs, finishes his cherry coke and tosses his can up into the air, aiming for the old, rusty, fifty gallon drum he uses as a trashcan. The can hits the rim and flips off to the side. Kirby huffs. Gator laughs.

"Right." He says, voice flat as he picks the can up, steps back a few feet and tosses it toward the can, it goes directly in, not even close to hitting the sides.

"Show off." Kirby mutters, glaring at him. Gator laughs again, loud and bright. And Kirby missed that. Shakes his head and pushes the thought away.

"So nine. Tuesday." Gator says, pointing at Kirby.

"Nine. Tuesday." Kirby echoes, pointing back. Smiling a goofy smile when Gator actually meets their eyes. Gator smiles back before waving and heading down the drive to his truck. Kirby waves after him, feeling giddy and light. And half not believing that Gator said yes.

They do a little happy spin, nearly tripping again as they do, hands slamming down on the tailgate Gator had been sat on. Kirby shakes his head at himself, rubs his hand over his hair, and rushes inside to take a shower.

They fall into bed that night nearly vibrating, knowing they wouldn't sleep well. Too excited for a silly little trip to the lake.

~°~

The trip goes surprisingly well. Gator shows up at eight thirty despite his previous protests. Kirby drives them down. They grab breakfast on the way and by the time they reach the lake the sun is high and warm.

Both of them run for the lake immediately, tossing their clothes this way that, ending up in just their swim trucks, Gator laughing as Kirby shrieks and jumps of the small dock into the water.

Kirby's not sure how long they swim for. Just knows the sun moves across the sky as they talk and splash and shove each other underwater. They eat lunch. Sit in the back of Kirby's old van, their nest of pillows and blankets warm in the summer heat, but it's shady, and far enough from the water that the bugs leave them alone.

They're sitting on the dock when Gator asks,

"You really don't fish?"

Kirby makes a gagging sound, pretends to puke over the side of the dock.

"No way. Not for me." They shake their head. Gator nods. Seems to think about something.

"You don't hunt either I take it." He asks, one eye srunched against the sun as he looks at Kirby, his softened hair falling into his face. Kirby's scrunched face is all the answer he needs, he laughs, holds his hands up in surrender.

"Alright. Alright. Just askin." He sounds judgmental, but he's smiling soflty, looking into his lap.

"Do you like hunting?" Kirby asks, head tilting.

"I'm good at it." Gator says immediately. Kirby smiles, bumps their shoulder into Gator's, his skin, warm from the sun, still makes Kirby shiver.

"Yeah but do you like it?" Kirby repeats, kicking his feet in the water, he watches Gator's reflection shimmer and then looks at him. He's frowning, like he's thinking, Kirby waits.

"I- I dunno. I just..." he trails off. Huffs. Tries again.

"It makes me feel... accomplished. Cuz I'm good at it. It's something I do well." He says slowly, like he's feeling it out.

"But it's not just that. Hunting deer's the best. Because we use it. As much of it as we can. The meat. The hide. The bones. Ya know? I have this summer sausage recipe that just, fuck, it melts in your mouth." Gator looks at him, face all smooshed up and scrunched, party from the sun, partly like he thinks Kirby's gonna judge him.

"You make the summer sausage yourself?" Is all Kirby says, genuinely curious. And they know it's the right thing to say when Gator perks up, nods excitedly.

"Yeah. And we pair it with this cheese Karen makes and it's like, god, I can't even describe it. You gotta try it though." Gator bumps Kirby's shoulder with his.

"I don't have to like... be there for the hunting? Or the cleaning? Or any other terrifyingly gross animal killing ritual that you get up to before the food is made?" Kirby asks, their face all scrunched up now too, seconds away from adding a gag but Gator laughs again, really laughs, his head thrown back, the sweet sound rolling out over the water like the ripples their feet are making.

"It's not a ritual. We're not sacrificing animals." Gator scoffs once he's stopped laughing 

"Aren't you though?" Kirby asks, voice low and disbelieving. Gator rolls his eyes.

"Seriously though. I'd love to try it." Kirby says, bumping their shoulders again as he sways side to side.

"Okay. I'll bring you some next time I come over." Gator says, his voice small, he sounds almost shy.

"Looking forward to some of your famous sacrificial sausage." Kirby nods, Gator growls at him playfully and shoves him into the water. Kirby comes up screeching, Gator throws himself in after them, both of them sinking under together, the water cool on their sun kissed skin.

~°~

Gator walks him to his door. He didn't have too, Kirby had parked next to his truck so he could just, head home. But he walks them up the drive, lingers on the doorstep. Kirby's chest is tight as he watches Gator sway from foot to foot, eyes on the ground, hands in his pockets.

"Thanks for comin with me today. I hope- ya know, I hope it was a nice day off for you." Kirby says, shoulders jumping and then settling as they linger by their door.

"It was nice." Gator says, voice quite. Eyes on the ground.

"Good. That's... good." Kirby lickes his lips, he doesn't wanna go inside yet, doesn't want the day to end. Even though the sun has been gone for hours now, the day has ended, but this hasn't, whatever it is. He looks up to the night sky, craning his neck to look for his favorite stars.

"Kirby?" It's barley a whisper.

"Yeah?" Kirby's head snaps back down, eyes on Gator immediately, and finds him looking back. And then he's leaning forward. A soft press of lips to his cheek. Gator's skin is warm against theirs, his lips a little wet, like he'd licked them nervously before making his decision.

He's gone as fast as it happened. Taking a few steps away.

"It was really nice." His voice is strained, Kirby wants to reach out to him. Can see the tears threatening to fall from his eyes. But he doesn't, knows it will just scare him away.

"The nicest day I've had in awhile. And I-" his voice catches in his throat. Kirby frowns, watch him swallow with difficulty.

"I want- with you. But I-" Gator frowns now, his hands shaking at his sides, he clocks Kirby eyeing them and shoves them into his pockets roughly. 

"I don't think- I mean-" he groans, low, frustrated, tilts his head back, turns away from Kirby and wipes at his face.

"It's okay." Kirby says, wraps their arms around their middle. Gator turns back to them.

"What?" He asks, lip wobbling, he digs his teeth in.

"It's okay. To want that. Ya know. But I understand. I mean I know- I know who your dad is and I get it. I understand." He nods, licks his lips, clears his throat.

"You can't. And that's okay. Ya know? I'll be here. For whatever. Anything you need." He takes a deep breath, looks to the sky again for a moment, lets Gator have a second to himself before looking back to him.

"Weed. A friend. Just a place to fuck around and not be under anyones thumb for awhile. A shoulder to cry manly tears on. I'll be here. For you. Just, whenever." Kirby shrugs, their throat feeling tight, even through the small tease, or maybe because of it.

Gator stares at them, for a long time. And then he's stomping forward, determined. He grabs the front of Kirby's shirt and tugs, pulls them to his chest, their lips pressed together firmly, for just a moment, before he pulls back, forhead resting against Kirby's, his eyes still closed from the kiss.

"I had the best fucking day with you." He whispers, tugs on Kirby's shirt again, desperate, and then he's gone.

"Me too." Kirby breathes, a whisper in the dark. Kirby blinks the tears away, his fingers pressing to his trembling lips as he listens to Gator's footsteps disappear into the dark.

They stand there for a long time, long after Gator's truck has driven away. Kirby stands on his doorstep, fingers pressed to his lips, and looks up at the stars, their eyes finding their favorites with ease. Two stars, directly above them, nestled next to each other, the mirror image of the freckles gracing Gator's cheek. They light the sky above his house as he finally goes inside. His chest trying to fight off the spark of hope threatening to ignite, theatening to set that feral thing in his chest on fire.

Kirby falls into bed, looks out the window and closes his eyes, presses his lips gently to the inside of his arm, and let's it burn.

#gator tillman #gator tillman fic #gator tillman x oc #oc: kirby rivers #gator tillman x kirby rivers #I AM SO NERVOUS POSTING THIS IVE NEVER POSTED OC STUFF REALLY I DONT THINK #not that anyone cared about anyway aaahhhhhhhh #my writing #mine #gator tillman x orginal character #nonbinary/trans oc #if this needs more tags let me know ive never done this before hahahah #my fic

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

{ soooo.... @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe reblogged ONE werewolf post and mentioned steddie in the tags and then... this... happened. It was all spur of the moment with no planning so if you see mistakes and/or plot holes... no you don't. 😬💖 }

Warnings: Billy Hargrove, blood, wound tending, violence, if it needs anymore let me know. ✌🏻

🍒🍒🍒

"I'm completely serious." Eddie says, feet kicked up on.... someone's coffee table. He doesn't remember who's party it is. Jeff nods agreeably next to him, sinking further into the couch.

"No. You've gotta be fucking joking. That would not-" Gareth tries to argue. Eddie cuts him off immediately.

"No seriously. I need a werewolf to take one look at me and go 'I'll have that.' Then claim me as their mate and never let me go." Eddie sighs, the hellfire boys erupting in chaos around him.

Normally, Eddie would join in, cause a ruckus. But he'd frozen after he'd spoken. His eyes glued to one Steve Harrington. Who had been taking a drink and promptly choked on said drink, his eyes wide when they landed on Eddie, beer or some other liquid dribbling down his chin as his cheeks flushed.

He was all the way in the kitchen, his friend Robin chattering away next to him, now wiping at his face. There's no way he could have heard Eddie. Not over the music, and the house full of shouting drunken teenagers.

Eddie watches as he finally tears his eyes away. He watches Steve grab Robin's wrist and yank her out of sight. If Eddie's lip reading was as good as it used to be, he'd said something along the lines of: "Robin. We need to go. Now."

But that didn't make any sense. Eddie was just joking. And Steve was all the way in the other room. Eddie sunk down into the couch, ignoring the way his stomach turned when he heard the front door open and close. There was no fucking way he heard him.

No fucking way.

Unless.

~°~

"Steve Harrington. Is not a werewolf. What the fuck are you even saying?" Gareth was nearly yelling now. They'd been having this conversation for almost an hour and it seemed he was at his wits end.

"Yes he is Gare! Yes he is! I would swear on it." Eddie shouts back, pointing at his friend from his position on the floor, his feet up on the couch next to Jeff. His toes wiggling under his arm every now and again to get warm.

"Swear on what!?" Gareth shrieked, his hands flailing into the air next to his head.

"Werewolves aren't real!" His voice is so squeaky now the neighbors dog has started barking.

"Jeff. Eric. You guys really not gonna help me with this?" He begs, holding his hands out to them, pleading.

"I mean..." Eric drawls, scratching at his ear.

"What?" Gareth asks, eyes narrowed.

"Maybe they are.... There was that thing with Chrissy." Eric says, his voice lilting as he looks in Jeff's direction.

"No. No no no no. We are not talking about that again either. Jeff did not see Chrissy Cunningham drinking blood." Gareth huffs, so frustrated now his face is turning red.

"I know what I saw." Jeff says with a shrug, his hand moving to Eddie's calf and rubbing it rapidly, trying to warm his cold leg for him. Eddie smiled at him and then looked back up at Gareth from the floor.

"He knows what he saw Gare. Chrissy is a fucking vampire. And Steve. Steve Harrington is a fucking werewolf. Possibly. The love of my life. Though that may be a tad unlikely. Given that he almost definitely doesn't like boys." Eddie pouts, and then startles when Gareth stomps over to look straight down at him.

"Oh is it? Is it unlikely because he doesn't like boys? Not because there's no such thing as FUCKING WEREWOLVES!?" Gareth full on yells it. His hands fisting in his hair.

"Gareth Eugene!" His mothers voice calls down the stairs.

"Sorry mom!" He yells back, turns on Jeff and Eddie when the laugh.

"It's not fucking funny. This is ridiculous. You're all ridiculous. It's not real. Fuck you guys." He hisses, keeping his voice low. Jeff and Eddie look at each other, then to Eric, all of them smile and shout,

"Gareth Eugene!" In unison. Gareth screams at them, tosses a few empty chip bags at them and throws himself into the emtpy chair next to Eric.

"You all sound, insane. You know that right?" He asks, sounding calm, and genuine again. Eddie shrugs, Eric laughs.

"Maybe you just need to open your mind?" Jeff suggests, brushing chip crumbs from his shirt.

"Open my mind? To vampires and werewolves?" He asks, arms crossed over his chest with a huff.

"Yes. Because if they exist. And mine and Jeff's crushes are one of each. Ugh. Shit." Eddie curses, his shoulder bumping the small table as he rights himself, slides his legs off the couch and kneels by the table instead.

"We could literally live our dreams." Eddie pleads, his fingers laced in front of him.

"Your dream. I don't have a dream about dating a vampire. Just dating Chrissy." He sighs, his eyes going glassy. Eddie waves him off, not even looking at him.

"I could literally live my dream. My dream of having a smoking hot werewolf boyfriend who wants to mark me and breed me and keep me forever." Eddie whines, Eric and Gareth both groaning at Eddie's details. Jeff gives no reaction, lost in  his thoughts about  Chrissy.

"You're crazy man. There are not secret supernatural creatures all over Hawkins. Is the whole basketball team werewolves? Is this fucking Teen Wolf? You think Steve is just gonna wolf out at the next game?" Gareth asks, his voice rising again. Eddie plops down onto his butt, elbows resting on the little table, chin in his hands.

"God that'd be great wouldn't it?" He sighs, eyes focusing over Eric's head like he can see it.

"Hey!" Gareth snaps his fingers in front of Eddie's face.

"Rude." Eddie swats at his hand.

"And who's next? Huh? Tommy and Carol? That dick Hargrove?" Gareth shoves a chip into his mouth chewing angrily. Eddie grimaces.

"Hargrove is not supernatural." Eddie shakes his head.

"He's a supernatural dick. Like... his asshole levels are way off the charts." Jeff chimes in, sinking to the floor next to Eddie and taking a swig of Eddie's mountain dew, Eddie nods in agreement.

"Yeah. He's definitely a peice of shit. But not in a supernatural way. Probably good. Honestly. Can you imagine?" Eddie's nose scrunches before he takes a drink as well. Even Gareth groans in agreement.

It's quiet for a moment. None of them talking. The occasional chip crunching or bag rustling, the pop of a soda can being opened. All of them just sitting, thinking, loudly, but in silence. And then Gareth breaks it, and his steadfast denial of it all.

"Okay. But seriously, if they're were vampires and werewolves in Hawkins we'd know about it! That's not something that could be kept secret." His voice is low now, his eyes moving over the boys around him.

"Is it?" He asks, looking slightly worried.

"I dunno. This town does have a long history of unexplained animal attacks." Eric chimes in, the three other heads in the room turn to look at him, slowly.

"What? I like history." He defends. They all go quiet again, for longer.

Eddie moving a few things here and there on the table. Jeff moving them right back just to frustrate him. Both of them slapping at each other. It devolves into a small wrestling match that Eddie wins by going completely limp on top of Jeff.

"Okay." Gareth breaks the silence again. Eddie and Jeff shuffle around, separating themselves from each other, ending up in the opposite spots as before, they notice, frown at each other, and then shrug, looking to Gareth again.

"Okay?" They ask, at the same time.

"Okay." Gareth nods, but holds his finger up at them. Their brows raised on their foreheads as they wait.

"But Steve Harrington. Is not cool enough. To be a fucking werewolf."

~°~

One week, three days, and ten hours later. The morning after the full moon. Eddie nearly hits Steve Harrington with his van.

Rain is pouring from the sky, his wipers on high, barely helping. He's heading for school, Wayne had sent him off on time after a nice plate of scrambled eggs and toast.

He didn't have any tests or quizzes today. And he'd actually remembered to do his homework. The morning was going well.

That's when the body appeared in the road just past his vision. He slammed on the breaks and had never been so happy that he'd been ripped off and over paid for new breakpads last month. The van skids to a halt, his headlights shining on the person, the naked person, in the road.

"What the fuck?" Eddie breathed. He slammed the van into park, grabbed the keys out, and jumped out into the pouring rain. He stopped, grabbed a blanket out of the back, that normally covered Gareth's drums when they traveled, and ran around the front of the van.

"Holy shit." Eddie felt like he'd been punched.

"Hi Eddie." Steve Harrington, naked, wet, waving up at him with a wiggly fingered wave, and holy shit was that blood.

"Is that blood?" Eddie blurts, his hands already shaking.

"Yeah." Steve says, like it's fine, like it's normal.

"Shit did I hit you?" Eddie falls to his knees, holds the blanet out to Steve. He eyes it, looks back to Eddie.

"You're naked." He says. Steve closes his eyes, sighs.

"Right. Thanks." He grabs the blanket, drags it around his waist as he tries to stand. The second he puts pressure on his leg he starts to fall again. Eddie ducks under his arm and catches him. Doing his best to ignore the way Steve's warm, wet, skin feels under his hands.

"Hospital?" He asks, helping Steve to the passenger door. Steve levels him with a look that tells him he should know better.

"Right. Okay. Sorry. Jeez. You just- You're bleeding kind of a lot dude." Eddie huffs, helps Steve into the van and grabs a towel from the glovebox.

His brows furrowed, he presses it to the very large fucking hole, in Steve's leg. He doesn't even flinch, his eyes locked on Eddie, and his slow, gentle movements. Steve's hand settling over his makes his whole body jerk.

"Thanks. I can do that." Steve says, softly. Eddie doesn't let go.

"You gotta put pressure on it." He says, eyes locked on the red seeping into the towel.

"I will." Steve nods, squeezes Eddie's wrist, trying to get his attention.

"Eddie?" He squeezes again, Eddies eyes move up his arm to his face.

"Yeah?" His eyes are wide.

"We gotta get outta here." Steve's own eyes widen, waiting for Eddie to understand. It doesn't take long. He whips his head around, trying to see into the trees around them, his hair completely soaked now, his bangs drooping into his eyes.

"Shit. Okay." He nods, turns back to Steve, hands over the towel to him and nods again.

"Okay. I got it." He says, not sure if he's talking to himself or Steve. Steve nods, fucking smiles, at him, and lets him shut the door.

Eddie runs around the van, jumps back in, starts her up, gets her turned around carefully, and drives.

"Did someone shoot you man?" Eddie asks after a moment, Steve groans as he presses the towel to his leg, hard, his knuckles going white.

"Yep. Sure did." Steve sounds... nonplussed. Like it's just, a normal fucking Tuesday. Which it isn't. It's very much not a normal Tuesday. Because Steve Harrington got shot. And now he's in Eddie's van bleeding. And besides all that it's fucking Friday.

Eddie's hands tense on the wheel, his own knckles white now as well. He's nodding. Just absently. His head knows Steve answered him, can't seem to from words to make his own answer just yet.

"You okay Eddie?" Steve asks, tugging the blanket around his waist more with his free hand. Eddie just keeps nodding.

"Where are you taking me?" Steve asks, seems to realize he wasn't going to get an answer to the previous question.

"Home." Is all Eddie says. He glances to his right, Steve's eyes are on him.

"Wayne'll know what to do. He'll help." Eddie nods, his eyes back on the road.

"He'll help." He says again, to no one in particular. Steve nods, bites his lip when pain shoots through his leg, doesn't quite manage to stiffle the groan of pain.

"Who fucking shot you Steve?" It's the first time he's used Steve's name, maybe ever, to his face at least. Steve snorts, it sounds like a laugh.

"Fucking Hargrove." He grunts, presses harder on his leg. Eddie's head whips to look at him, his wet hair slapping against his face.

"What? Shit. Really?" He asks, rapid fire. Steve closes his eyes and nods.

"Eyes on the road Ed's." Steve's lips turn up in a smile right before Eddie looks away, his eyes are still closed.

"Covered his scent somehow. I didn't smell him. Or hear him. Fucking asshole." Steve slams his fist against the dash, Eddie jumps, his whole body twitching, he refused to acknowledge the yelp that came out of his mouth.

"Sorry. I'm sorry." Steve breathes deeply through his nose, like he's trying to stay calm.

"It's okay. I'd be pissed too if Billy Hargrove fucking shot me." Eddie says, quickly, the words falling out of his mouth faster than he can think them. Steve snorts again, and Eddie's sure he is laughing, as well as he can, through the pain.

"Wait, he drives that blue camero right?" Eddie asks, eyes locked on his rear view mirror.

"Yeah. Why?" Steve follows his gaze, then looks into the side mirror.

"Shit." He says, trying to sit up further, or turn around, or something.

"Put the seat back and lay down." Eddie says, his hand pointing across Steve's lap to the little lever on the side.

Steve does as he's told, the seat going nearly flat. Eddie reaches behind his seat and grabs his backpack, sets it genlty in Steve's lap. Anyone passing would just be able to see the top of it.

He pushes his tape back into the tapedeck and cranks the volume. His fingers drumming and his head bobbing to the music as Billy's car rumbles up behind them, fast. Eddie's lucky he even saw it at all in the rain.

He keeps his eyes forward, fingers drumming. Pretends not to notice Hargove's car pull along side him for a moment. He twitches his head to the side, does a double take and then scowls at him, motioning to the open road ahead of them. Clearly telling Hargrove to fucking pass him already.

He does. Flipping Eddie the bird as he goes. He does a u-turn in the middle of the road and speeds back past them, the water from his tires splashing across Eddie's windshield.

He flips the wipers back up and keeps his eyes on Billy's car until it disappears back into the rain. He grabs his bag off Steve's lap and sets it by his feet instead as Steve sits up with a groan. Pulling the lever again so the seat comes with him.

"That was pretty good." Steve sighs, leaning against the window. Eddie turns his music down.

"Don't sound so suprised. I sell drugs man. I have to act natural a lot. Plus, he almost ran me off the road last month, I was pretty sure he'd try and pass me anyway." Eddie shrugs, keeps both hands on the wheel and one eye on the road behind them.

"Why'd he shoot you?" Eddie asks, glancing at Steve and then back to the road. He'd swear Steve was smiling.

"Why do you think?" He asks, sounds tired. Eddie rolls to a stop at a four way, looks over at Steve, down to the towel on his leg soaked with blood. He pulls away slow, they're so close to home now, no need to draw attention.

"He doesn't know it's me, I don't think. Just that he shot a wolf. He's been trying since he got here. Hunting us." Steve sighs, readjustes himself in his seat again.

Eddie swallows, hard, his heart pounding. His knuckles flashing white again as he squeezes the steering wheel. He turns into Forest Hills, his foot that's not on the peddle is shaking now, his knee jumping and jerking.

He pulls up to the trailer slowly, cuts the lights and the engine, and turns slowly in his seat to face Steve.

"You're a werewolf." He exhales into the space between them.

"I'm a werewolf." Steve nods, gives him a pained, toothy, smile. Eddie nods back, keeps nodding, he's lost in it again. The nodding.

Steve's hand patting his cheek snaps him out of it. He jerks again, not used to being touched there, or anywhere, really. He sees Steve pull his hand back, swears he sees hurt in his eyes.

"Sorry. I know it's a lot. But I need to get this bullet out of my leg like, yesterday." Steve sighs, covers the hurt look with another pained smile.

"Right. Yeah. Of course. Hang tight." He pats Steve's knee genlty, hops out of the van, and yells for Wayne.

~°~

They get Steve inside no questions asked. Wayne carries him to the bathroom and sets him on the edge of the tub. Eddie grabs a pair of boxers from his drawer and brings them to Steve.

"Figured you don't wanna be naked while you do that." He shrugs. Steve shrugs back.

"I've done worse things naked." He says, a little smile on his lips. Eddie goes warm all over and nods, bumps into the door frame as he back out of the small room.

He watches Wayne roll his eyes at him. He shakes his head too, crossing his arms over his chest. Eddie mouths 'shut up'at him and goes to kitchen. Wayne walks up beside him while he tries to get Steve's blood out from under his nails.

"Hey." Wayne sets his hand on Eddie's shoulder, he twitches.

"You did good kid. Bringin him here." Wayne's voice is calm. Always calm with Eddie.

He's never heard the man yell, except maybe at the raccoons that live to dig through their trash and toss it all over the yard. Eddie swears he'd heard Wayne call them varmints once. But other than that, he's soft spoken, so different from Eddie's father. Eddie's grateful. Everyday.

"Yeah. He was just out in the road. I almost hit him." Eddie's lip wobbles and Wayne pulls him to his chest, his hand rubbing up and down Eddie's back.

"But you didn't. You stopped. And you saved him, sounds like, so..." he pulls back, cradles Eddie's face.

"Seems to me that's all that matters." He lifts his eyebrows, giving Eddie that look. Eddie nods, a little frantic, licks his lips, looks in the direction of the bathroom.

"Yeah. That's what matters." He nods again, wipes his hands on his shirt. Opens his mouth to thank his uncle when Steve calls his name.

"Go on. Go see to your boy." Wayne tilts his head in Steve's direction.

"Oh my god. He's not my- he can hear you." Eddie hiss/whispers at Wayne. He pulls his lips into his mouth, shrugs, looking like he could not be less sorry. Eddie hisses at him as he walks away, glaring. Wayne laughs behind him and starts a pot of coffee.

"You called?" Eddie teases when he gets to the bathroom, leans agaisnt the doorframe.

"You came." Steve teases back, his eyes locked on Eddie. Eddie flushes again, from head to fucking foot. He clears his throat, rubs at the back of his neck.

"Did you need something?" Eddie asks, his eyes on the floor now. He swears he hears Steve chuckle, but can't risk looking up to find a smiling, teasing Steve, he wouldn't survive it right now.

"Yeah. Two things actually. And you're not gonna like the second one." Eddie's eyes snap to Steve's face, he looks apologetic.

"What is it?" Eddie asks, shoving his hands into her pockets nervously.

"Well the first thing, I need you to call Jim Hopper. Tell him what happened. And that I'm here. And I'm safe. I am safe with you, right Eddie?" Steve looks up at him with wide eyes. Eddie nods, licks his lips, tries to do better.

"Yeah. Course. That thing, earlier? When you touched me. And I flinched." He jerks his head back, motioning behind him, into the past hour.

"That wasn't because of you and your- it wasn't cuz of that. I'm not afraid of you. I'm just not used to people touching me." Eddie babbles, knows that's probably not what Steve meant, probably not why he was asking if he was safe.

But that hurt look kept bouncing around Eddie's head and he had to say it, to tell him it wasn't because of Steve, any part of him. And it pays off, his babbling, for once, because Steve smiles, and his cheeks tint pink, and Eddie could look at that all day.

"Thanks." Steve mumbles, Eddie nods.

"Call Hopper. Got it. And the second thing?" He rocks up onto the balls of his feet and then back down, Steve looks up at him and grimaces.

"I need you to help hold this while I dig the bullet out." Steve taps the little homemade tourniquet he and Wayne had put together, resting right above the bullet wound. Eddie swallows, his throat suddenly very dry.

"O-okay." He stammers.

"Do you want Wayne to do it?" Steve asks, eyeing Eddie like he thinks he's gonna pass out. Eddie shakes his head, once to answer the question, and then again to clear it.

"Lemme go have Wayne call Hopper. And I'll be back. Should I bring more towels?" He asks, hand firmly planted on the doorframe as he leans into the bathroom, his eyes on the bloody towel in the sink.

"Maybe one more. And two glasses of water." Steve says, nods when Eddie does.

"What's the water for?" He asks, brow furrowed.

"To drink. Thought maybe you could use a glass too. I can hear your throat clicking from here." Steve teases, smiling again when Eddie nods frantically and ducks out of the bathroom.

"You can probably hear my throat clicking from across town." He mutters to himself, grabbing two glasses out of the cabinet.

"Not quite that far. Maybe a few blocks, if I really focus." Steve calls from the bathroom.

"Jesus Christ." Eddie mutters, hears Steve laugh. He shakes his head, fills the glasses, gives Wayne his instructions for Hopper, shoves a towel under his arm, and waddles carefully back to the bathroom, hands full.

"There ya go." Eddie hands him a glass, tries not to stare at his throat when Steve chugs it, startles when Steve looks at him and chugs half his own glass.

"Where should I..." he trails off, looking around the bathroom.

"On your knees." Steve points to the space next to him, Eddie obeys immediately, his knees hitting the floor hard. His bites his lip, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, using all his willpower to not look at Steve right now, in this moment.

"That was-"

"Don't. Just- please don't. I'm mortified, can we just..." Eddie waves his hand towards Steve's wounded thigh.

"Mhm. We can." He says, and Eddie swears he sounds like he's trying not to laugh. Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Nothing wrong with obeying orders well." Steve says, his voice hushed as Eddie scoots closer. He freezes, his eyes finally looking up, Steve is staring at him. Eddie gulps, Steve's eyes drop to his throat and jump back up.

"Put your hands here." Steve guides him, shows him where to hold the tourniquet, how to pull but not too tight. His fingers move over the back of Eddie's hands, leaving the faintest tracks of blood on his skin as Steve whispers,

"Good boy." Against Eddie's ear.

"Jesus H Christ." Eddie shutters, his shoulders tensing.

"Sorry. Couldn't resist." And Steve fucking winks at him. Eddie rolls his eyes and huffs, Steve laughs, shakes his head, and then rolls his shoulders.

"You don't have to watch." Steve says, serious now. Eddie nods, but finds he can't look away.

Steve's hand rests on his thigh, as Eddie watches his nails grow dark, and long, and sharp. Thick claws now where his nails used to be. Eddie watches as Steve moves, presses his finger into the hole in his leg and digs. He shoves his thumb in along side it, blood blooms bewteen his fingers and Eddie tightens his hold.

The whimper Steve lets out is what draws Eddie's eyes away. Away from the claws and the blood. They land on Steve's face, his features pinched in pain. He grits his teeth and Eddie sees fangs, too sharp teeth filling Steve's mouth as he groans.

"Steve?" Eddie's voice is airy, his throat tight.

"I'm alright. Almost got it." Steve grunts through his teeth, his jaw clentched.

"Okay. Be careful." Eddie whispers. Steve snorts again, pulls his thumb and finger back out of the wound with a whine, something shiny held between them.

He sags, his body drooping with relief. He holds the bullet out, Eddie moves, slowly lets go of the tourniquet, and holds out his hand.

"Don't lose that." Steve cautions, pausing before he drops it into Eddie's palm. Eddie nods, drops it into the cup near his toothbrush and moves back to Steve's side.

"What now?" He asks, hands hovering, not sure where to land. Steve looks at him, hooks his fingers under the tourniquet and winks at Eddie again.

"Now. I heal." He slips the rags off his leg. Eddie watches as one small pulse of blood bubbles up out of the wound, and then he watches as the edges close, the skin knitting itself back together. Steve wipes a towel over his leg, clearing the blood, and the wound is gone.

"Holy shit." Eddie says, breathless. His eyes jump to Steve face and he smiles.

"You're amazing." He breathes, and then smiles wider when his cheeks tint pink again.

"Ya think so? Most people wouldn't agree." Steve says, but he's smiling too.

"Well most people are idiots. And objectively you're probably weird as shit. But I love weird shit." Eddie shrugs, rubs at his neck when Steve just stares at him, feels himself going red again and stands. Offers his hand to Steve, helps him to his feet. He stumbles forward, Eddie catches him with his hands on his waist, feels his cheeks go impossibly hotter.

"You're hearts always beating so fast. Is that cuz of me?" Steve whispers, his hand settling on Eddie's chest, right over his fluttering heart. Eddie swallows, manages a nod before his resolve leaves him and he steps away from Steve hastily.

"You can shower if you want. I'm gonna- I'll go find you some clean clothes." He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, bounces off the doorframe and bolts down the small hallway to his room.

He falls onto the edge of his bed, his legs wobbly, his chest aching, and his lungs somehow not pulling in enough air. He smiles when he hears the shower start, tries not to picture Steve in there showering. And shit, he forgot.

"The warm waters a little tricky. You gotta turn it all the way up and then lower it back down." He says, not too loud, wanting to know if Steve will hear him. He hears the tell squeak of the warm water handle and then Steve calls,

"Thanks!" Through the thin walls. Eddie bites his lip and falls back onto his bed, his head buzzing. He can't wait to tell Jeff. Oh, he sits up, thinking, he should ask about Chrissy. See if Jeff was right. All signs seem to be pointing that way.

He opens his mouth to ask when there's a knock at the door.An aggressive knock. More like someone pounding and trying to get in.

Eddie's up in a flash, but when he gets to the living room Wayne is near the door, his hand held out to Eddie, stopping him.

"It's not Hopper." Wayne mouths, and that's when Eddie sees the gun in his hand. Wayne's old shotgun. He'd only seen it once. When he turned 17, Wayne showed him where it was, and how to load and use it, in case of emergencies only.

Eddie's body tenses, his hands curled into fists at his sides. He can hear the shower running behind him. Hopes Steve is listening too.

"Open the door Munson! I know you've got him in there!" Hargove's taunting voice calls. A shiver runs down Eddie's spine, he shakes his head instinctively. He sees Wayne do the same. His uncle waves him down again, his palm held out towards Eddie, he lowers it slowly: stay calm. Eddie nods.

Wayne opens the door, keeps his shotgun hidden off to the side.

"Ain't nobody here but us. I think you should leave. We don't want any trouble." Wayne tells him calmly, his voice steady as he clicks the saftey off the gun in his hand. Eddie's breathing is shallow. He hears a snort from outside.

"Yeah right. You're Munson's. All you know is trouble. And you stepped in it big this time." Hargrove snarls.

"Now hand over that fuckin monster you got in there. And maybe I won't teach that little freak of yours a lesson for takin what's mine."

Eddie watches Wayne's knuckles go white where they're holding the door, watches the door shake as he grips it tight.

"Police are already on their way boy. You best be on yours before you get hurt." Wayne's voice is still calm. Too calm. Eddie's never heard him sound that way before. He can feel the anger just beneath the surface, his anger boils there too.

Wayne starts to say something else when Hargrove jumps forward, slams his body against the door, almost through it. Wayne stumbles backward, caught off guard just enough for Hargrove to get the drop on him. He grabs Wayne's arm, tugs him forward and headbutts him.

Eddie's stomach twists at the sound, as he watches Wayne fall to the floor. He knows he can't get to the gun. But Hargrove could. Doesn't seem to care about it though. His eyes land on Eddie, cold and empty, his jaw clenched. Eddie turns, makes for his bedroom. He feels Hargrove's hand slam down on his shoulder and screams.

"Steve help m-" Billy's knuckles slam into his cheek, he feels his lip split when his face hits the ground. Feels Hargrove move over him, and then away. His shadow there and then gone, quick as a flash. Eddie looks up, hears a low growl, and sees Hargrove against the wall, his feet almost a foot above the ground, Steve's clawed hand around his throat, holding him there.

His mouth is full of fangs again, his skin covered in fur now, not completely, just a thin layer, and his eyes seem to glow in the low light of the trailer. Eddie scrambles to his knees, hears another growl.

"Touch him again and I willl rip you apart." The words rumble deep in Steve's chest. Hargrove chokes and gags as Steve squeezes him tighter.

"Sounds like a great plan kid. But how bout you let me handle the rest huh?" A new voice. Eddie startles, tries too fast to turn and ends up on his back. Footsteps approach him and he's look up at Sheriff Hopper.

"You alright kid?" He asks, Eddie nods, his chest clenches.

"My uncle-"

"Already back on his feet kid. C'mon." Hopper extends his hand. Eddie takes it, lets the big man yank him to feet easily. Eddie suspects he may be a wolf himself. Or something else.

"Steve. Let him go." Hopper says, slow, like he's talking Steve down. He still has Hargrove against the wall, he's only wearing the boxers Eddie gave him. His skin is all skin again, but his claws are still out, his fangs pushing at his lips, his chest is heaving.

Eddie watches Hopper move toward him, Steve growls, low in his throat, Hargrove struggles as his fingers tighten, Hopper stops.

"Hey. Kid. I know. Alright. I get. He hurt your friend."

Another low growl, deeper, more feral, Steve's brow furrows.

"Oh. Shit. Okay." Hopper sighs, glances at Eddie.

"You're okay right?" He asks, leaning into Eddie's space a bit, Eddie thinks he sniffs him.

"Yeah. I'm okay. I'm good." Eddie nods, his eyes going back to Steve when Hopper's do.

"Your boys okay. Just a split lip. Nothin serious. He's okay." Hopper reassures, takes a few small steps forward. Steve twitches with each one. His grip on Hargrove's throat still tight.

"Steve I'm okay. You can let go now." Eddie tries. He watches the muscles in Steve's arm relax, but only a little. Eddie shakes his head, makes a decision. He steps forward, dodges Hopper when he reaches for him.

"Kid don't-"

"It's fine." Eddie dismisses. He walks up to Steve, gets close, Eddie moves his hand over his arm slowly, letting Steve feeling him.

"I'm right here. I'm okay." He soothes, fingers pressing into Steve's hot skin. But it works, his body relaxes, he loosens his hold on Hargrove, lets him slide down the wall til his feet touch the floor, but doesn't let go.

"Fuckin'... freak." Hargrove gasps, glaring at Eddie, eyes full of hate.

"Shut up." Eddie and Steve speak in unison, but Steve yanks him forward, then slams him back. His head hits the wall and Steve lets him go. He falls to floor, unconscious.

Steve turns to Eddie then, teeth too big for his mouth. His lips pushed out in a pout around his fangs, and he whines, his hand lifting to touch Eddie's lip, his claws receding back into his nails before his fingers touch Eddie.

He licks the blood from Eddie's lip off his fingers and then grabs for him, pulling him against his chest with a whine, clinging to him as he nuzzles into Eddie's neck. Eddie gulps, wraps his arms around Steve slowly, awkwardly, does his best to hold on. To soothe him.

Once Steve's calmed a bit he pulls back. Eddie looks down, Billy's body is gone. He turns to look behind him, Wayne and Hopper are sitting on the couch, watching some old movie. Eddie's brow furrows. How fucking long had Steve been holding onto him?

"Sorry. I didn't mean to, like, trap you." Steve clears his throat. Eddie turns back to him, he looks embarrassed. Eddie smiles, cups his cheek.

"It isn't a trap if it's somewhere I wanna be. Is it?" Steve looks uncertain for a moment, his eyes darting around Eddie's face, looking for something, Eddie's sure. He either finds, or doesn't, because he smiles so brightly it nearly blinds Eddie.

"Really?" He asks, his fingers twitching at his sides.

"Yeah. Kinda had a crush on you since like, fuckin forever. Seventh grade or something stupid." Eddie shrugs.

"Fifth grade." Wayne calls from the couch, Eddie rounds on him, he hadn't even looked away from the tv.

"Oh my god what does it matter! Bud out would you? I'm having a moment!" Eddie hisses, watches Wayne smile into his cup of coffee. He opens his mouth to snark some more but Steve's hand turning his face back to him stops him.

"Fifth grade?" Steve asks. Eddie rolls his eyes, sighs, nods.

"Yeah."

"Wha- Why?"

"You gave me a rock." Eddie huffs, bites into his lip.

"I gave you..." Steve gasps, his hands moving to Eddie's waist and tugging.

"I gave you a rock!" He says, excited. Eddie nods.

"I know. I was there." He rolls his eyes, teasing. Steve looks at him, for a long moment.

"Did you keep it?" He sounds so hopeful. Behind them, Wayne snorts and then clears his throat. Eddie groans, loud, and long. Wayne and Hopper both chuckle.

"Of course I kept it. I'm a big gay loser and a pretty boy gave me a rock. It's on my nightstand." Eddie admits, his shoulder sagging in defeat.

But then Steve is nuzzling against his cheek and he decides he doesn't care if he's a loser. That pretty boy was a werewolf, and apparently this werewolf thinks of Eddie as his. And he could definitely get used to that.

"You kept it." Steve hums, presses his nose into Eddie's throat and nearly fucking purrs with delight, his chest rumbling against Eddie's, making his heart flutter.

"Alright kid. We gotta get this sorted. Get that bullet. We'll get this delt with. And you can come back here and... well you can come back here. The rest is none of my business." Hopper declares, clapping his hands once, as he stands and moves to the door.

Steve pulls back, nods, and ducks back into the bathroom. Eddie brings him some clothes and then he's gone. Riding away in Hoppers cruiser, an unconscious Billy Hargrove in the backseat, bound and gagged, for good measure.

Wayne moves to stand beside him as he watches them drive away. His arm wraps around Eddie's shoulders and tugs him close.

"Rough day kid." Wayne says, giving him a squeeze.

"Yeah. Not all bad though." Eddie considers, drops his head on Wayne's shoulder.

"Definitely not. C'mon," Wayne gives his shoulder a pat.

"Let's get this house cleaned up before your boy gets back."

Eddie nods, follows him back inside, and starts cleaning. There's woodchips all over the hallway, Steve had shattered the door coming out to help Eddie and Wayne. Eddie suppresses a shiver at the thought.

But has trouble not thinking about the way Steve had been so mad because Billy had hurt him, hurt Eddie. Not his friend. He'd been mad about that word too. Not his friend. Just his.

Eddie swept the floor and tidied his room and let the feeling of being Steve's surround him. Let it fill his head and his chest. Let it lift him up off the floor, his body floating when he finally fell into bed to wait for Steve. His Steve.

~°~

Eddie wakes to gentle hands on his shoulder. He lets go of his pillow and rolls to find Steve, on his knees on the matress behind him. He scrambles to sitting, hands reaching for Steve, met with Steve's own out stretched hands.

"You came back." Eddie mumbles, still drowsy. Steve smiles, soft.

"Course I did. Nowhere else I'd rather be." He whispers, presses forward, his face so so close.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, Eddie feels his breath rush over his skin.

"You want too?" Eddie asks, because his brain still hasn't quite caught up, isn't sure this isn't just a dream.

"Eddie." Steve says name the way no one ever has, all longing and need, curled at the edges from exasperation.

"Yeah Steve?" Eddie's trembling now, his hands shaking in his lap. Steve takes them in his, like he can read Eddie's mind.

"I've wanted to kiss you for awhile now. Even before I heard what you said at that party." Steve whispers the last bit, his mouth curving into a smirk, his eyes twinkling. Eddie's own eyes widen and then squeeze shut as he groans, takes his hands from Steve's and hides his face.

"You did hear me. I knew it oh my goooodddd." He rolls onto his back, rolling side to side on the bed, bumping Steve with his thighs everytime he rolls toward him. The laugh Eddie's dramtics pull out of Steve is beautiful, it makes Eddie feel like flying.

He drops his hands to his stomach and looks up at Steve. Steve looks right back, his eyes soft, his mouth curved just so in a small smile.

"I wanna kiss you so bad Steve." Eddie admits, his fingers drumming on his stomach. Steve's nose scrunches.

"Yeah? You sure?" Eddie tilts his head, trying to read the sudden change in Steve. His confidence seeming to fail him.

"Did you think I would genuinely say no to you?" Eddie asks, pushing himself up to sitting, so he can see Steve better. Steve picks at a loose thread on Eddie sheet, lifts one shoulder, drops it again.

"Who the fuck could say no to you?" Eddie wonders aloud, just a breathed out question.

"Not everyone can love a monster." The words fall past Steve's lips with sadness, his voice thick with it. Eddie's heart aches for him.

"Hey. You're not a monster." Eddie shakes his head, Steve levels him with such a bitchy look, it nearly takes Eddie's breath away. He snorts and holds up his hands in surrender.

"Okay. Okay tech-... technically you- you are a monster." Eddie rests his hands on Steve's knees.

"Like in the, literal, old movie wolfman monster, definition. Then yes. Sure. You're a monster." Eddie shrugs, shakes Steve's knees until he's wobbling back and forth with Eddie.

"But that doesn't mean you're a monster." Eddie shakes his head.

"And hey, even if you are. You've come to the right place. Eddie Munson, monster fucker extraordinaire!" He does a little jazz hands display before pointing at himself. He can see Steve fighting a smile.

"I mean not that I've... fucked a monster... before..." he trails off, eyes on the ceiling, thinking. He snaps his fingers, points at Steve.

"But I am willing! And hopefully," he wiggles his fingers in Steve's direction,

"Able." He smiles awkwardly, his eyes dropping to Steve's crotch and then back up, his cheeks flushing when Steve raises his eyebrows at him.

"Willing and able. That's me." Eddie points both his thumbs at himself, Steve's lip twitches. Eddie clasps his hands in front of him.

"Please say something so I can stop talking." Eddie begs through a helpless breathy laugh. Steve drags his teeth over his lower lip and shakes his head slowly, moves closer, presses into Eddie's space.

"No... you're not gonna say anything? Or no... umm... wh- what did I say after that?" Eddie stammers as Steve keeps moving, one hand on Eddie's chest, pressing him back into the matress, the other ending up near Eddie's head, supporting Steve as he hovers over Eddie.

"I like when you talk." Steve says, tossing his leg over Eddie, sitting on his thighs. Eddie nods, feeling a little frantic.

"Oh well thats good. Cuz I'm notorious for not knowing when to shut the fuck up. Now being one of those times I fear. Pretty sure. My mouth literally will not stop moving." The nervous laugh that comes out of him just makes Steve smile more, but it's different, sharp at the edges. Eddie realizes what the look is and gulps, Steve leans over him, chest to chest now, nose to nose. He looks hungry.

"I'm almost certain I can find something that will shut you up." Steve fucking purrs, his finger dragging down over Eddie's lips, his hand moving to cup Eddie's cheek. Eddie's eyes flick down between them and then back up.

"I mean we gotta try right? There's gotta be somethin- mmphf! Mmmm." Steve kisses him, presses his lips to Eddie's like he's trying to swallow his words. Eddie hums into it, hands moving to Steve's neck, his shoulders, his back. His hands move everywhere, feather light touches, not sure where to land. Steve pulls back, rests his forehead against Eddie's.

"I really like you." He sighs, his eyes squeezed tight, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath he takes. Eddie watches him, eyes closed, trying to stay calm.

"I really like you too. That's why I kept the rock. And the bird you drew me in seventh grade." Steve's eyes open, he looks down at Eddie, brow furrowing.

"And the poem you wrote  freshman year, about wanting to be a wolf." Eddie leans up, presses his lips to Steve's forhead.

"Kinda cheated on that one didn't ya?" Eddie whispers, wraps his arms around Steve as he settles in his lap. Steve gasps when Eddie kisses down his neck.

"I kept the sweatshirt you gave me at the football game too.Sophomore year. It's tucked away in my closet." He kisses back up, eyes closing on a hum as Steve pushes his hands up under Eddie's shirt, needing to touch him.

"I used to take it out and just hold it. And smell it. But it stopped smelling like you. Years ago." Eddie breathes against his lips, Steve whimpers into his mouth.

"I like you so much." Eddie whispers, pressing a kiss to Steve's lips.

"You being a werewolf isn't gonna change that." He kisses Steve's cheeks, his left one twice, once for each freckle.

"If anything, it will make my feelings, monumentally stronger. Like it'll be disconcerting. It's gonna make people uncomfortable." He kisses Steve's eyelids as he laughs, squirms in Steve's arms when his hands work their way into the back of his pajama pants.

"I'm gonna be obsessed with you." Eddie whispers, kissing down Steve's nose and across his lips again. Steve whines again, chases his lips, Eddie puts two fingers across them, to shush him, groans when Steve pulls them into his mouth and sucks, his cheeks hollowing as he blinks at Eddie, eyes hooded and needy.

"Jesus okay. There's is- there is a 'but' coming." Eddie gasps, Steve smirks around his fingers but lets them go.

"What's the but?" Steve asks, pouting as he moves his hands up Eddie’s back again. Eddie snorts and kisses his cheek again.

"I just-" he stops, takes a deep breath. His stomach twisting. He feels Steve's hand on his chest and opens his eyes, Steve tilts his head like a puppy.

"Your hearts beating fast again." He says, quiet, like he's talking to himself.

"I'm nervous." Eddie says, straight to the point. Steve tilts his head the other way.

"Nervous to be with me?" Steve's thumb soothes over Eddie's chest, through his shirt.

"Nervous cuz- I've never done this." Eddie bites his lip.

"I kinda figured you were a virgin ya know." Steve shrugs, noses at Eddie's neck. Eddie puts his hands on Steve's chest and pushes him back genlty.

"Umm... excuse me?" Eddie scoffs, a smile tugging at his lips.

"What? Virgins smell different." Steve says, like it's a normal thing to say.

"Ew. What? Why?" Eddie asks, his fingers tangling in Steve shirt as he laughs, his arms winding around him and pulling him closer.

"Dunno. Never asked. It's just true. You smell so good anyway but that part," Steve shivers, looks down at him.

"It's just sweet. You smell sweet." Steve smiles down at him, kisses his cheek, runs his fingers over the spot after.

"Okay well, that's all... a lot of information. But what I meeeeant," Eddie drawls, poking Steve in the chest.

"Is that I've never been in a relationship before. Like, not a real one. Not like this. And I'm just scared I guess. Cuz you're like, a fucking dream." Eddie sighs, Steve smiles.

"And I have a very long history of categorically fucking up everything good that happens to me. And I don't wanna do that here. With you. I want-" Eddie frowns, Steve moves, pulls them to the bed and rolls them, so they're facing each other.

"What do you want?" Steve asks, his fingers moving over Eddie's forhead, soothing the frown and then moving into his hair.

"I want you. I want to keep you." Eddie worries at his lip, Steve moves his thumb over it, drags it from between Eddie's teeth and soothes over the hurt.

"I wanna keep you too. We don't have to do anything right now. I just needed to be with you. After today." Steve says, shrugs his shoulder and curls closer.

"We can just- do this? Just be together?" Eddie asks, hesitant, his eyes falling closed as Steve hums,

"Mhm. We can just hold each other." Steve moves his fingers deeper into Eddie's hair, pulls him to his chest. Eddie clings to him, arms wrapped tight, hears that fucking rumble in Steve's chest again.

"Are you actually purring or does it just sound like it?" Eddie mumbles sleepily into Steve's chest. He feels him laugh, feels him pull Eddie impossibly closer.

"Hopper refuses to call it that. But I like it. I've only done it once before today though." Steve sighs, Eddie perks up, rests his chin on his arms and looks at Steve.

"When was the other time?" Eddie asks, eyes blinking slowly. Steve reaches up, tucks Eddie's hair behind his ear.

"With my friend Robin. You know her. From band." Eddie nods. Steve nods back.

"Yeah well. I came out to her last year and she was so excited, and happy, and accepting. She made me a cake. I mean it was terrible. But she made it just for me." Steve laughs, Eddie smiles down at him, waiting for more.

"And after, she told me she was proud of me. And that she loved me. And that's when it happened. I think it happens when you find your people. Like, my wolf just knows, when it's right." Steve's eyes won't stay on him, and he looks nervous again.

"She's like your platonic soulmate huh?" Eddie asks, pushing his finger around Steve's chest, drawing little nothings here and there. But he feels the tension leave Steve, feels him relax underneath him.

"Yeah. She is." He nods, eyes locked on Eddie now, his are shining with tears. Eddie nods, scoots a little closer, further up Steve's chest.

"I have one too. Jeff. He's in Hellfire with me. We're like two trippy peas in a far out pod." Steve scrunches his nose, lifts his head and kisses Eddie, sweet and soft.

"Thanks for understanding." Steve breathes.

"Sure. Give me enough time and I can understand anything. That ones easy though. I'm glad you have someone like that too." Eddie drops back down onto Steve's chest, gets comfy.

An hour later Steve manhandles him onto his side and presses up against his back, arms wrapped around Eddie like vines, keeping him close. Eddie shivers at being tossed around, even more at being held like he's something precious. He feels Steve smirk into his neck, feels that rumble again.

He smiles into Steve's arm, presses his lips to his skin and lets himself fall asleep, feeling loved, and wanted, and like he belongs to someone.

~°~

Eddie finds out later that Jeff was right. Chrissy absolutely is a vampire. And a good friend of Steve's. Eddie, Steve, and Robin may or may not parent trap them into several ridiculous situations before Chrissy finally tells them her and Jeff have been dating for almost three weeks now.

Eddie swears he knew. Steve can hear him lying. But let's him have it anyway. Robin refuses to let it go and constantly claims that the first time she meddled was three weeks ago which means she got them together which means she wins the bet.

Eddie remains unaware that there was even an actual bet going on. He just thought they were trying to make their friends happy. Steve can hear him telling the truth, and loves him for it.

Steve holds Eddie close almost every night, so so glad he heard Eddie talking at that party. And so so glad he'd told Robin, two weeks before that party, that he was gonna ask Eddie out. That he wanted to keep him forever.

She'd made fun of him of course. Eddie Munson? Really? But Steve had pressed on. Something about that sweet smell drawing him in.

And even after Steve claims him. Even after Eddie is his and no one elses. To Steve, he still smells so sweet, like the first rain of spring. Likes Steve's favorite fruit. Like Steve's. Like home.

#my writing #mine #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #this got so fucking long oh myyyyy goooodddd #I hope you like it friend!!! #im gonna take a nap now! be back in several hours!!!! #werewolf steve harrington #also a side of #jeff x chrissy #my fic

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Howdy,

Just curious I was scrollin on this here blog and I was wonderin’ are you ever keen to write Buckingham fic? Them there are my favorite couple a gals and fics of them are few and far between. If you ever get the hankering for written one just know you’ll have a dedicated reader but if not safe travels pardner.

Hi, I just wrote you a question about Buckingham but i wrote it like a cowboy?? I’m not totally sure why, I wrote the word howdy and then something came over me and next thing I knew the ghost of John Wayne was asking about Buckingham fics so?? Sorry I guess??

THE WAY I AM CACKLING AND SCREAMING NEVER BE SORRY I LOVE YOU!!!!

Okay so first of all, best set of messages I've possibly EVER received. And ya know, sometimes the spirit of John Wayne just... gets up in there. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

And secondly! I adore them as well!!! I've put them in like... the backgrounds of my steddie fics before. As like, a secondary pairing! Cuz i love them so much! I haven't ventured into writing them their own fics YET! i don't wanna say i never will, cuz i love them. Honestly... kinda wanna write them into a western setting now. Hahaha!

( i have a fic im gonna try and write today. About werewolf steve. And chrissy will also be there! Because i always want her alive!!! But after that maybe I'll see if i can't rustle somethin up for you pardner!! 🤣🤣)

#this was amazing to open my app too #bless you. and your ghost. #asks #anon

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

{ the song (I Just) Died In Your Arms came on at work today and then this happened. }

Warnings: aftermath of time loops, like years after, hurt/comfort, angst, allusion to sex and loss of virginity (its really more of a fade to black situation tho 👍🏻)

🍒🍒🍒

"Eddie?" Steve calls, dropping his bag and all his crap by the door, and toeing off his shoes.

"Kitchen! Rob's at Chrissy's tonight so I thought we'd do dinner and a movie?" Eddie's voice calls, and Steve can already smell something cooking. Hears the sizzle of a something as well, and the radio playing something, the sound just a low rumble in his ears.

"Sounds good. Watcha makin?" Steve calls, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it over the back of the couch, he knows Eddie will grab it later and hang it by the door. He leaves it there anyway, smiling to himself at the thought as turns toward the kitchen.

"Oh just the ol Eddie Munson special. Gourmet grilled cheese. It soothes the- Steve? You okay?" Eddie's voice is quiet now, Steve's sure his eyes are wide too but he can't see them. Not really.

He's staring at the radio. The low murmur of music finally hitting him, stopping him in his tracks, his blood running cold, like icy fingers trailing down his back. That fucking song. He could kill whoever wrote it. Who needs a song about someone dying in their arms?

"Steve?" Eddie asks, again. Steve nods. Takes one step backwards. And then bolts for the bathroom.

He hits his knees hard, slaming down in front of the toilet, losing the small amount of food he'd had for lunch, his stomach heaving. He's shaking when he stands, his knees buckle twice on the short walk from the bathroom across the hall to his room. He shuts the door softly when he hears Eddie's footsteps coming.

"Steve? Are you okay?" His voice is small, and Steve can see him, with his long sleeves pulled down around his hands, worrying the material between his fingers as he shuffles from foot to foot outside Steve's door.

"I'm fine Ed's. Just, keep cooking. I'll be out in a few for the movie okay?" Steve calls, yanking his clothes off and grabbing one of Eddie's old t-shirts that he'd stolen maybe a year ago. Eddie had never asked for it back. And Steve liked the way he blushed when he saw Steve wearing it.

Eddie does, sort of. He goes back to the kitchen, turns everything off, and then walks back to Steve's room. He slides down the wall outside his door and sits on the floor. He can hear Steve moving around in there, just shuffling around his room doing god knows what.

He does this sometimes. Eddie never knows what to do. Or say. Or how to stop it. He tries. But Steve won't talk to him about it. Just ignores that it happens. Or talks to Robin. They share little looks, he sees them, never knows what they mean.

It makes him uncomfortable sometimes, like they're telling jokes behind his back. He knows they're not. That they wouldn't. But there's something. And until now, he's never asked, never pushed. Just sat back and worried and tried to ignore the feeling that he'd done something wrong.

"Steve?" He asks, voice low. He hears Steve stop moving.

"Yeah?" He calls, sounding suspicious, or nervous maybe, or like he's been caught doing something he shouldn't.

"You know I'm not stupid right?" Eddie's chest burns, fire crawling up his throat, his eyes burning.

"I- what?" Steve answers, voice muffled, Eddie can almost see him standing in the middle of his room, staring at the door.

"I'm not stupid. I know something's wrong." He presses his finger to the floor, rubs at a knot in the wood, listens to Steve walk closer to the door.

"I told you I'm fine. Really it's-"

"Don't lie to me." Eddie cuts him off, doesn't yell, doesn't even raise his voice. He thinks he hears Steve gasp on the other side of the door. Can't be sure.

"Please just-" he closes his eyes, clears his throat, wills the tears away. He's so tired of crying about this.

"Just talk to me? I know- there's something you're not telling me." He hangs his head, worries at his shirt sleeves, his hands in his lap.

"It's been three years. And I thought it would stop ya know? Thought maybe I was imagining things. Or just, had to get used to the enigma that is YouAndRobin. But that's not it, is it?" He lets his head fall back and hit the wall.

"It's me. It's something I'm doing. Or like, multiple things? And I've tried to stop. Ya know? Tried to figure it out on my own cuz you guys clearly don't wanna share." He sighs.

"But I just keep fucking up. And then you guys give each other those looks, and lock yourselves away for hours, or fucking days, at a time. And I try so fucking hard not to do those things again." His voice is strained now, he clears his throat again, tucks his knees up under his chin and keeps talking, knows if he doesn't say it now he never will.

"But it's fucking impossible to figure out what I'm doing wrong if you won't talk to me Steve. I just- I feel like I'm hurting you somehow and you just- you just fucking sit there and take it and pretend it not happening when it really fucking clearly is! And it makes me feel insane!" He shoves his lips against his knee, tries to hide the whimper that claws its way out of his throat. He closes his eyes, tries to breathe, opens his mouth to speak again and hears the door open.

He looks up, watches Steve look forward and then down, finding Eddie on the floor, his own eyes shining like Eddie knows his are too.

"It's not you." Steve says, whispers really. And Eddie can't help the eyeroll. Or the huff. Looks away from Steve, drops his chin onto his knees and closes his eyes again, pushes the palms of his hands against his eyes.

"You're lying." He croaks, voice tight.

"I know you are. I just don't know why." And he hates it, that whine in his voice. And then Steve is on his knees, next to Eddie, his hands hovering near him as Eddie glares at him.

"I- I'm not. I promise I'm not. It's not you. It- it's complicated. I don't-" he sighs.

"Just say it! Just try!" Eddie's hands flail, his voice desperate as he looks at Steve. He stares for a moment, eyes wide, and then falls to sitting next to Eddie, his own knee tucked up to his chest, back resting against the door frame.

"I watched you die." Steve says, quiet. Eddie frowns.

"I know. And then you carried me out of hell and saved me. I know that. What are you-"

"No. Not- not that time." Steve shakes his head, grimaces when he looks at Eddie. He shakes his head, he doesn't understand.

"Before that. So many fucking times before that. Over and over. You died. No matter what I did. Or what I changed." Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, shoved a knuckle into the corner of his eye. He let his head fall back as he looked at Eddie, his hands falling palms up on his thighs, helpless.

"You died. Over and over and over. And everytime. Every single fucking time. I ended up covered in your blood." He closes his eyes, opens them again. Says nothing else.

"I-" Eddie starts, stops, takes a deep breathe, moves one hand over his chest, resting his palm against the scar on his side, a nervous habit he has now. His fingers drum against the thick skin there.

"That's- you're talking about a time loop." Eddie says slowly, and Steve, he fucking laughs. There's no humor in it, just a bark, and a wry smile as he shakes his head at Eddie.

"What? You are, right? I mean that's- why are you smiling?" Eddie flails again, hugs his knees tighter. Steve just shakes his head again, bites his lip to hide a smile.

"Robin told me I should tell you. That you'd understand. Or like, get it. And I knew you would I guess, I just- couldn't." Steve sighs again, gives a little helpless shrug.

"Why not?" Eddie rests his chin on his knees, watching Steve. The tension he'd been holding in his shoulders for what seems like years seems to melt away.

"At first I was scared. That if I said something. It would start again. And then it just-" he takes a deep breath, smiles the saddest smile Eddie's ever seen and says,

"It just hurt too much." He shrugs again, a tear falling down his cheek. Eddie stares, watches his fall onto his shirt, watches it bleed into the fabric.

"Why did it hurt? Cuz of me? Cuz I keep reminding you of it somehow? Right? That's what all those little looks between you guys have been?" He wraps his arms around his legs tighter, his lip wobbling again. He knew he'd been fucking up.

Steve looks at him, brow furrowed, and reaches out, his hand warm when it curls around Eddie's bicep.

"I didn't know you noticed that. And I'm sorry. But no. It wasn't that. I mean maybe a little. Just small things. Like, deja vu, sometimes." He shrugged.

"But tonight it was the song. That stupid fucking song." He sighs, shakes his head and laughs again. The sound hollow in his chest.

"The... song." Eddie frowns, trying to think what song had been on when Steve came through the door. And oh, yeah.

"Oh. Kinda... right on the nose that one. Sorry. It was just on the tape I found. It wasn't even my tape. I think it was one of Dustin’s old ones." Steve squeezes his arm, heads him off before be starts really rambling.

"It's okay. You didn't know. You couldn't have. Cuz I didn't tell you. And I should have. I'm sorry." Steve bites his lip again. Eddie nods, sniffles, untangles his arms from around himself and scoots a little closer to Steve, their legs pressed together.

"Will you tell me now? All of it? Please? I need to know what happened. Kinda really wanna know how you saved me." He feels his cheeks burn, his ears too. He can't look at Steve. Not right now. Knows he'll see too much.

"I'll tell you. But not on the floor." He laughs again, a real one this time, and gets to his feet. He offers his hand to Eddie and pulls him to his feet. Their hands stay together, Eddie's cheeks burn with a fresh wave of color and Steve smiles, tugs him into his room, and tells him everything.

~°~

"A whole year?" Eddie's staring at the ceiling, knows he sounds breathless.

"Yep." Steve says, pops the P.

"And you spent it with me?" Eddie asks, sounds unconvinced.

"Yep."

"And we-"

"Yep." Steve huffs, turns onto his side and looks at Eddie.

"Hey. Look at me." Eddie swallows, isn't sure he can. He let's out a shakey breath and does it anyway.

"Hi." Steve says, smiling, his cheek squished against his arm curled under his head.

"Hi." Eddie echoes.

"You and me?" Eddie asks, his brow furrowed, his throat burning again.

"Yeah. I uh... I wasn't expecting it. Or maybe I was. I'm not sure anymore. But I'm glad it happened." Steve shrugs, reaches out, his finger brushing a curl away from Eddie's face.

"Why didn't you tell me? We could've- I mean I would've-" Eddie swallows, not sure what he would've. Steve smiles that sad smile again.

"Because I'm an idiot. I thought I had to like- let you make your own choices. Not- tell you what you did before. And you didn't remember. Because it- it didn't work, that time. I didn't-" he pauses, clears his throat, wipes at his eyes.

"I didn't save you that time. I lost you. And it- fuck it hurt Ed's. It hurt so much." His throat catches on a sob, his palms shoving into his eyes and Eddie can't take it anymore. He surges forward, wraps his arms around Steve and pulls him close.

"I'm right here. I've been here. I'm not going anywhere." Eddie whispers, presses the words into Steve's hair as he clings to him.

"How many times after that one?" Eddie asks, his hand in Steve's hair, soothing.

"Two. I lost you two more times and then it worked. I woke up by your hospital bed instead of at my house. And you were there. Alive. And Robin was alive. And Dustin and Nancy. Everyone. More or less." Steve's voice is muffled, Eddie can feel his shirt getting wet from his tears.

"Steve I-" he takes a shakey breath.

"I don't know what to say." He sighs, keeps soothing his fingers over Steve's scalp. He pulls back, looks at Eddie, his face wet and blotchy.

"You don't have to say anything. I'm just glad you know now." He shakes his head, sniffles, drops his head back onto his pillow, eyes on Eddie.

"This um... this other Eddie. The one you spent a year with." Eddie draws.

"He wasn't 'another Eddie'. He was you. Just, before we really met." Steve snorts, rolls his eyes.

"Right. Right. So this Eddie you spent a year with." Eddie says, Steve fucking giggles and squeezes his eyes shut, nose all scrunched up. He opens his eyes, blinks a few times.

"What about him?" Steve asks, his teeth dragging over his lip as he smiles. Eddie shrugs, best he can laying on his side.

"Was he... I mean was he really like me?" Eddie asks, his voice sounding, doubtful. Steve hums, thinks for a moment.

"He was. And he wasn't." Steve shrugs too.

"That's very descriptive." Eddie says, voice flat. Steve laughs, rolls onto his back and then back to his side to look at Eddie.

"He was... different. Calmer. Less traumatized. At the beginning anyway. But he was still you. Still stubborn. And loyal. And kind." His shoulder twitches again.

"Was he nice to you? This other me?" Eddie asks, chewing on his lip, eyes locked on Steve's face. His cheeks flush and Eddie feels heat crawl over his skin.

"He was yeah. After awhile. He was... very nice." Steve's voice is soft, low, that little smile tugging at his mouth.

"Did he love you?" Eddie doesn't mean to say it. Not really. But he can't stop it. He has to know. Steve said they'd been together. But it was just a year. But a lot can happen in a year, Eddie knows all too well.

Steve eyes go soft at the question, a fondness in them that Eddie knows well, his stomach flutters at the realization.

"He said he did." Steve nods, scoots a little closer.

"And did-" Eddie swallows roughly, blinks a few times,

"Did you love him?" He asks, voice barely above a whisper. Steve nods, slow, his hair splaying against his pillow, his hand lifting to his mouth, teeth worrying at his thumb nail.

Eddie feels a breif spike of jealousy peak its head up and then feels ridiculous. And then he feels something else, something that blooms in his chest and wraps itself around his ribs warmly. Something he thinks might be hope.

"Do you-" he bites into his lip, hard. His hands shaking on the matress between he and Steve. Steve's hand moves away from his mouth, his knuckles brushing Eddie's before lacing their fingers together.

"Say it." Steve whispers, his eyes shining. He smiles at Eddie and Eddie can't not smile back. Can't not ask.

"Do you love me?" He hears his voice, hears how he clearly doesn't believe that. But Steve nods, a giddy smile on his face.

"You do? Why?" Eddie blurts, and Steve laughs, curls closer to Eddie, his hand cupping Eddie's cheek, thumb moving over his skin softly.

"I'm not sure I ever had a choice." Steve breathe between them.

"I think it was just always meant to be you." Steve moves his thumb over Eddie's lips, then up over his cheek again, wiping at the tear that runs over Eddie's skin.

"But he's not- I mean I'm not- we're not the same person. I don't remember it. I don't remember getting to have you. I did get to have you right?" Eddie asks, his chest shuddering as he tries to keep his breathing steady. Steve nods, crowds impossibly closer, his knee slotting between Eddie's own.

"You had me. You had me then and you have me now. And you are the same person. That's why me and Robin always give each other those looks. Because I told her everything. Anything I could remember. And you do things. Things that you did then. When you were mine." Steve smiles. Eddie laughs out a sob.

"When I was yours." He says, mocking, his voice wet and wobbly.

"Yeah. You were mine. Do you wanna be mine?" Steve's fingertips move over his face, like he's trying to memorize him.

"Pretty sure I've been yours since I woke up to you reading The Hobbit by my bed in the hospital." Eddie smiles, more tears falling.

"Dustin told me it would help." Steve shrugged again his thumb back on Eddie's lips. He nodded, closing his eyes to warmth of Steve's skin on his. 

"I wanna be yours." Eddie breathed, gasped when he felt Steve's thumb press into his lip.

"Yeah?" Steve was so close now, Eddie opened his eyes and he was right there, his nose almost touching Eddie.

"Please." Eddie wasn't sure what he was begging for, but he trusted Steve to give it to him.

"Yeah. Anything you want." Steve sighed, closing the space between them.

His lips hit Eddie's and his whole world tilts. Steve holds his head and kisses him sweetly and everything slams into him at once. Thoughts. Feelings. Memories. Memories that aren't his. Things he's never done. Not with Steve. Not with anyone.

But they crash into him, wash over him like a wave and blend into him like they're his. Things he said to Steve, the way he touched him, the way he loved him, during that year that never was. All of it filling him and becoming his. His and Steve's. Just another piece of their story, another peice of their love.

Eddie gasps, pulls back and finds Steve's eyes on him, wide, his brow furrowed.

"Did you?" Steve asks, his head tilting.

"I remember. Or... I saw it. I felt it. Or like, an echo of it. I love you." He laughs then, breathy and sweet, and Steve laughs back, nearly tackles him back onto the bed, arms curled around Eddie, face buried in his neck.

"I love you too." He sounds giddy. The way Eddie feels. He buries his hands in Steve's hair and pulls him up, so he can look at him. Steve comes willingly, looking down at Eddie with adoration.

"Our lives are so fuckin weird. You know that right?" Eddie asks, his nose scrunching. Steve snorts, bites his lip, and smiles.

"Oh yeah. But would you want it any other way?" Steve asks, his nose scrunching too.

"I'll take it whatever way lets me have you." Eddie says, his finger moving down the line of Steve's nose. He bites at Eddie's finger when he drops his hand on his chest.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to ask. And that you were stuck for so long. Back then." Eddie nods to the side, like that time in '86 is right beside them.

"I'm not. I learned a lot about loving you back then." Steve smiles down at him, pushes his bangs back off his head, Eddie leans into the touch.

"Oh yeah? Well I look forward to reaping the benefits." Eddie says, tongue poking into his cheek.

"Yeah? Well I look forward to taking your virginity. Again." Steve smirks down at him. Eddie squaks, tries to shove Steve off him and gets pinned to the bed instead.

"How dare you! I'm not even- that's- I mean... absolute hearsay!" Eddie stammers. Steve laces their fingers together and straddles him, leaning down over him, that smug look on his face.

"You trying to say you're not?" Steve asks, his tongue moving over his teeth.

"I- it's just- I mean that's not fair." Eddie squeaks, looking up at Steve with wide eyes.

"Seems fair to me. Like a really nice reward." Steve boasts, leaning closer and closer.

"It feels like cheating. Like not that kind of cheating. Just... I've never- done stuff. And you're just... you have. With me. That's not-"

"Hey. I'll take good care of you." Steve breathes, presses his lips to Eddie's genlty and pulls back, settles himself on Eddie's thighs.

"I know. I have the memory. But it's like... I dunno, like it's foggy. Like a dream. I can see it, in my head, but I can't feel it." Eddie sighs, looks away.

"Forget about it." Steve says.

"Oh okay. I'll just forget about the images I now have burned into my brain of you, naked, on top of me." Eddie scoffs, tries to take his hands from Steve's and fails, Steve squeezes his hands tighter.

"Why are you so strong?" Eddie kicks his feet, feigning attempts to break free. Steve laughs, lowers himself back into Eddie's face.

"You can hold tight to that new old memory. Or we can make some memories of our own. Pick one." Steve brushes his nose against Eddie's and smiles when Eddie bucks up into him.

"New memories. Absolutely. We should do that. Let's make new ones. We should do that right now." Eddie nods frantically, lifting up and trying to kiss Steve, both of them ending up sitting, Steve in Eddie's lap, finally letting his hands go to snake his arms around Eddie's neck.

"New memories. Got it." Steve kisses him, sweetly, pulls back, just a fraction of an inch.

"You've got shit memory anyway baby. I'll get rid of those in no time." He breathes the words into Eddie mouth like a promise. Eddie moans and grabs at his back, pulling him closer.

"Holy shit. Okay." He huffs, shivering as Steve presses him down onto the bed again, laughing against his lips.

"I'm gonna take this slow. Be real sweet to you." He peppers kisses across Eddie face.

"You're gonna fuckin torture me you mean?" Eddie whines, his hips jumping and stuttering everytime Steve rolls his down against him.

"Trust me. You'll love it." Steve whispers, his lips ghosting over Eddie's, teasing.

"I love you." Eddie says, both of them freezing. Steve just stays there, looking down at him, his eyes shimmering again. Eddie reaches up, wipes the tears away.

"I love you too." Steve breathes, his body dropping onto Eddie completely, tension leaving as he kisses Eddie, slow and deep, both of them moaning into each other's mouths.

Steve's true to his word. He takes Eddie apart slowly. And then puts him right back together. Three years of longing, and lost time, and impossible memories passing between them. A slow ebb and flow, like the tide, like the ocean and the moon, moving through them both, pulling them together after so long apart.

Steve falls asleep on his chest after, small sounds falling past his lips as he nuzzles into Eddie's skin. Eddie holds him there, one hand in Steve's hair, one moving slowly up and down his back.

He holds Steve close, watches him sleep, and thanks whoevers listening that he gets to have this. Have him. And thanks them again for bringing him through it all, all the monsters, and the time loops, and everything else. Just for him to end up in Eddie's arms.

Eddie's certain it's where he was meant to be all along.

#steddie #steddie time loop #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #fates endless inkwell #fei #my writing #mine #my fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Sweet Music Playing In The Dark (Be Still, My Foolish Heart) [ Part Four ]

[ Part 1 ] [ Part 2 ] [ Part 3 ]

{ I'm 100% not writing these in chronological order. I just write them as the ideas come and they don't come in order of the story. Just in moments inspired by the songs. Hopefully y'all still enjoy them!!! Cuz i really love this little story. Even though it's like a little patchwork quilt of a thing. 💛💙💛 }

🍒🍒🍒

They've been together for a bit. Their relationship is still private. For the most part. But they're very publicly friends. Always together and laughing and adorable. But in private, they're dating. Taking it slow. Cuz touring life is bonkers and they're both busy writing and doing their music.

But Eddie starts seeing some shit from Steve's fans. Like, an oddly puritanical little sub group. That the other fans are always like "no thank you. Please don't associate with us OR steve please." And They've been posting things about eddie "corrupting" steve and saying shit like, "Eddie's making him go down a path he'd never choose on his own".

And that Eddie's a cult leader and indoctrinating steve. And some even say shit about robin and chrissy too. That they're like, Eddie's cult wives. And they sent him some of those comments and Chrissy was like,

"Robin's gagging. She loves you. But she's gagging." And Eddie laughs so hard he almost falls out of his chair. But he takes the comments and shows Steve.

Because he is not social media guy. He's never on there. And he reads some of them and just keeps frowning and frowning and eddie just curls into his side and is like,

"hey. Its okay. I don't care that they're saying that. I play up the cult thing. You know that." Steve did know that. Loved it. Bought Eddie a shirt that said "cult leader" on it. It's a pink crop top and Eddie adores it. It's his favorite shirt. But steve is like,

"some of these are really mean Ed's." Some of them even mentioned Nancy and how she was so good for steve and so pure and blah blah blah. Eddie snorts VERY loud at that, says,

"did they miss her cheating on you? Just ignoring that are they?" And steve frowns more, says,

"that was never really said publicly." And Eddie's takes his hand, laces their fingers together and says,

"People know Steve. They saw through her. Okay? Just like I did. Your real fans love you. And some of them even love me now." He says, cheeky glint in his eyes. And then he's smiling too, all big and sharp and Steve's like,

"i know that face... what are you planning?" And he's already almost smiling himself, knows its gonna be good. And eddie just wiggles his eyebrows, says,

"I had this idea... for a video. And the idea wasn't originally to have YOU in the video. But I've been thinking, since reading all that shit. That maybe we should have some fun." He leans closer, presses soft kisses to Steve's cheek, the corner of his mouth.

"What did you have in mind?" Steve asks, his eyes closing as he sighs into Eddie's soft touches. Eddie hums, kisses him again, nuzzles into his cheek and kisses down his neck. Pushes steve into his couch and tells him all about it.

~°~

What Eddie had in mind, was this. First, he, Steve, robin, and chrissy are all gonna be in the video. And the CC boys, playing in the background.

Eddie has a warehouse that he bought to make his videos, and others videos, and he does band photoshoots there sometimes. Has done several for Robin and Chrissy and a few for some other artists he's friends with. He loves doing weird little videos with just his friends.

So they go there, the set is literally just a ton of white cloth drapped everywhere. White on white on white. The band is playing all white instruments, the background is white velvet curtains.

Chrissy is in a beautiful white dress. Perfect and pristine, her hair all done with curls, her nails a pretty pearl. Robin's in a snug white suit. Waistcoat and all. Her hair slicked back.

Steve is in fancy white dress pants, a white tank under an open white shirt sleeved button down, Eddie let him do whatever he wanted with his hair, its neat and swoopy and perfect. The CC boys are all in matching white mechanic jumpsuits, white lines painted across their eyes.

Eddie had told them all the required colors and let them dress how they wanted. Told them what would be happening to the clothes too, so they knew.

And Eddie, he's in black skinny jeans, ripped at the knees, and is favorite pink crop top, CULT LEADER, printed in black across his chest in bold letters.

Steve can't take his eyes off him. Eddie makes his rounds, making sure everything is ready. And then walks up to Steve.

"You sure you wanna do this?" He asks, hands on Steve's hips as Chrissy and Robin lean against each other as they wait. Steve just stares at him, bites his lip, and nods.

"Yeah. Let's do this." His eyes are full of excitement and Eddie matches it, his cheeks dimpling as he nods.

They release the video a week later.

~°~

The video opens with Eddie and the band just silhouetted against the background. The music plays and the lights come up when Eddie claps twice and he starts singing, moving and jumping in place to the beat. And when he says,

"is this what you wanted?" The camera jump cuts to Steve and Robin and Chrissy all standing off to the side, stock still, looking a bit like they're in a trance as they answer,

"no!" Eddie sings,

"you want some more?" And they all turn in unison to look at him when they answer,

"yes" and then the lights go up even more, the bright white around them all, their clothes, the velvet, all of it seeming to shimmer as they dance around, moving closer and closer to Eddie as he sings. Eddie looks directly into the camera when he sings,

"who's keeping score?" And then the chorus hits and his attention is all on steve, his hand moving up Steve's neck as he sings,

"cuz youve got a taste now." And steve leans into his touch, looking helpless to it. Robin does the same to chrissy,  her and Eddie in synch as they draw in their partners, touching them and moving with them as Eddie sings about no one loving him like he loves him, steve smirking, his eyes closed, letting eddie touch and move him however he likes, and then Eddie sings,

"but you should've known, that this was gonna end in tears" and "blood" starts falling on them all, red stains blooming across the sea of white, all their clothes bleeding red as Eddie screams the next parts. Steve and the girls jumping and dancing and singing in the bloodrain, Eddie crooks his finger at steve when he sings,

"now come here and give me a hug" and steve saunters over, his hair dripping red as he falls into Eddie's arms. Eddie lowers him to the ground for the next part, his fingers moving and dancing across Steve's throat as he sings,

"i got my hands around your throat. I love way you choke." He dips down further, his lips brushing Steve's as he looks up at eddie, adoration in his eyes, both of them dripping blood as eddie sings,

"Cause i am yours and you are mine, I'll never let you go" right against Steve's lips, and Steve fucking arches into it, his palms flat on the gound.

Chrissy and Robin are fucking waltzing through the blood behind them, their feet kicking at the puddles of blood they glide through, moving across the "stage" as the camera pans after them, capturing the CC boys as well, all of them stained red, their instruments dripping and splashing as they play their hearts out. .

And then eddie is standing, singing the verse again as he moves his hands over steve, and Steve moves with his hands, like a puppet under Eddie's control, dancing and rolling in the blood on the floor. And then Eddie screams,

"GET THE FUCK UP" and steve is on his feet in an instant. Dancing and spinning through the guitar solo until it stops and he freezes, making like he's going to fall back to the floor before Eddie catches him in his arms.

Steve straightens, Eddie spins him and he and drapes himself over Eddie's back, Chrissy does the same to Robin behind them. Steve's hands moving over Eddie's chest and up his neck languidly, slow, with a purpose, dragging his hands through the blood thats covering them all now, Chrissy drops her head back onto Robin's shoulder as Robin tucks her arm loosly around her neck. Eddie stares straight at steve when he sings,

"nobody love you like i love you, oh my dear." And then they both drop their gazes to the camera, looking right at the audience as eddie sings and then screams,

"you should have known. This was gonna end in tears." Steve dropping his chin on Eddie's shoulder as he mirrors Robin's hold on Chrissy.

Eddie's voice goes quiet at the end, him and steve and the girls genlty swaying as the blood falling drenches them, their clothes and everything around them soaked a dark red now.

Eddie and Steve all tangled together just like Robin and Chrissy as the screen fades to black. And just before you loose sight of them all you can see them all laughing together right before Steve tightens his hold on Eddie's neck and pulls him into a kiss.

~°~

They release the video and all their fans go fucking NUTS. Partially because Eddie posted it and captioned it,

"hey. Me and my boyfriend made you guys something." And he puts a little kissy emoji. And everyone FREAKS out. And of course the purity people show up and start being like,

"see! See! His shirt even says it! He's a cult leader!" And people start saying steve looks drugged. Which eddie immediately shuts down and blocks them. But the CCboys go into the comments, cuz they're tired of it. They love steve, and eddie. And them together. And they're like,

"y'all realize they made this video BECAUSE of you nutballs right???" and chrissy and robin just respond to their comment with,

"right???" And like fifteen laughing emojis.

And steve and eddie just turn off their phones and eddie tugs steve into bed and they lay there, just breathing together. And steve nuzzles into his chest and smiles and says,

"at least most of the blood came out of your shirt." Eddie hums, moves his fingers into Steve's hair and says,

"i knew it would. Just a little darker now." He presses a kiss into Steve's hair too, for good measure. Steve wraps his arm tighter around eddie, cuddles closer, whispers,

"just like me." And kisses Eddie's chest as he laughs, tugs on Steve's hair so that Steve's looking up at him and says,

"just like you. Dark and corrupted. Just the way i like you." Eddie teases, both of them laughing into their kiss as Steve drapes himself over Eddie.

When they turn their phones back on they're met by several croped headlines sent to them, and marked up and memed, by Chrissy and Robin. Followed by a text that says,

"congratulations on the big gay announcement! Thanks for letting us be a part of it!" Followed by every single heart emoji they could find and a few edits of themselves with hearts for eyes.

They laugh so hard steve snorts into Eddie's shoulder and eddie almost chokes on the chocolate chip pancakes steve had made him.

Eddie had corrupted him into making breakfast in bed. If only his fans fucking knew.

#sweet music #sweet music part four #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #rockstar!eddie munson #musician!steve harrington #mine #my writing #my fic #Spotify

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

He's been at Steve's house a week before he manages to gather up the courage to ask.

He shuffles into the living room, Steve's old slippers on his feet, Steve's old pajamas hanging off him. He'd lost weight in the hospital. And hadn't gained much back yet, still in too much pain to really have an appetite. But this, it needed doing. He needed it done.

"Steve?" He asks, throat clicking, voice scratchy from underuse. Steve looks away from the tv immediately, hits the mute button, eyes wide and on Eddie.

"Hey. You okay?" He asks, turning his whole body on the couch, towards Eddie, giving him his full attention.

Eddie just nods. Slowly. His eyes going unfocused, staring at the floor.

"Eddie?" And Steve's in front of him now, he hadn't even heard him get up.

"Hmm?" He hums in his throat, eyes still feeling foggy.

"Did you need something?" Steve asks, Eddie's eyes focus, the concern in Steve's voice bring him back into his body. He looks at Steve, nods, says,

"I need you to cut my hair." His lip trembles, he digs his teeth in.

"You... what?" Steve's confused. Rightfully so. Eddie swallows around the fire in his throat, tries to explain it to Steve. This thing he can barley figure out himself. Has a half formed idea at best. He wipes at his nose with the back of his hand, Steve steps a little closer.

"It's just- it keeps- I keep laying on it. And it... pulls. And I'm sleeping and it pulls and I wake up and I can't breathe and it's-" he inhales, sharp and shakey and then Steve is there, his hands on Eddie's shoulders.

"Okay. It's okay. I'll do it. Whatever you want Ed's." He pulls Eddie upstairs, into his bathroom. Stands with him in front of the mirror, scissors in hand.

"Where do you want it?" Steve asks, his eyes meeting Eddie's in the mirror. Eddie takes a deep breath, brings his hand up, winces at the pull on his ribs but keeps going.

"Above my shoulders. But like... I wanna still be able to tuck it behind my ears?" He's not sure why it comes out as a question, but Steve just nods, Eddie sees his lips twitch into the start of a smile before dropping again. He reach up, drags his fingers genlty through Eddie hair.

His stomach sinks, his hair is gross. He hasn't washed it in days. Too tired. Too much pain. Too much effort.

"Sorry my hair's gross." He mumbles, lips barley moving.

"It's not. It's fine." Steve assures him, his voice soft, sections out a small lock of hair, he looks at Eddie in the mirror again.

"You're sure about this?" He asks, he looks sad. Eddie hates it. But also doesn't. Because it means Steve sees him, understands him, and how important his hair is to him.

But it doesn't matter right now. That his hair is a peice of him, a peice of the Eddie he'd built to keep himself safe. A peice of his armor.

"I'm sure. Please." He isn't begging, exactly, but his hands fist in his pajama pants, and it feels like it anyway.

"I'm gonna go just above your shoulder at first okay? And then if you want more off we can do that." Steve waits for Eddie to agree and then starts cutting.

Eddie closes his eyes when the scissors sink through his hair. Keeps them closed as Steve works. He stops a few cuts in and tells Eddie to wait there. Eddie sits on the toilet seat as he waits for Steve to come back.

He brings a radio with him, clicks in one of the tapes Eddie made him, and gets back to work. Eddie's eyes stay closed. He finds himself smiling as he listens to Steve hum behind him. Scrunches his nose when Steve full on sings a few times.

Not because he's bad. He's got a really nice voice actually. Eddie loves listening to him sing. But if he didn't scrunch his face he might to do something else instead, something stupid, with Steve so close.

It only takes a couple songs before Steve's hands are on his shoulders, gentle, reassuring, an anchor.

"Okay. It's done. Or at least. Might be. I can take more off if you need me too." His voice is soft in Eddie's ear, Eddie can feel the heat of his chest on his back he's so close.

He opens his eyes and feels his heart flutter in his chest. His head swimming a little. His hair hadn't been this short since junior year. He can see Steve watching him in the mirror.

"Good?" He asks, dragging his lip into his mouth and letting it go again.

"I think so." Eddie says, feeling a bit dazzed, a bit dizzy. And then Steve fucking reaches up with both hands, tucks Eddie's hair behind his ears genlty, his fingers moving down his neck to rest back on his shoulders.

"I could take another inch. It'd still fit behind your ears." Steve's eyes are moving over his head, like he's doing some complex math equation. Eddie wants to cry. His chest tight.

"Okay. Take it." He says, Steve's eyes move to his in their reflections again.

"Yeah?" Steve asks, reaching up and smoothing his hand over Eddie's hair. Eddie nods.

"Yeah. One more inch." He breathes the words out, like he just needs them gone, out of his mouth. Steve smiles at him, untucks his hair from his ears and starts cutting again.

Eddie watches him this time. Watches the way his tongue sticks out as he concentrates, measuring Eddie's hair between his fingers before he cuts. His tongue peaking out between his lips, brow furrowed in concentration.

Eddie watches him and tries to convince himself he actually wanted it shorter. And maybe he did. But he knows too, that he didn't want Steve to stop touching him. Steve's eyes meet his in the mirror and he smiles again. Eddie looks away. His cheeks burning.

"Okay. You're done Munson." His voice is teasing, it makes Eddie's stomach flutter.

"Thanks. Harrington." He teases back. Too soft. He knows. But he can't help it. His voice is stuck in his throat. Steve snorts as Eddie turns, takes a step toward the door.

"Actually. Can I-" Steve stops, his hand curling around Eddie's bicep, stopping him there. Eddie looks at him. Waiting.

"Can I wash your hair for you?" Steve asks, his voice quiet, Eddie barely hears it over the radio.

"My...?" Is Eddie's articulate reply.

"Please? It'll make you feel better. I- I think." Steve stammers a bit, always so endearing when he does that. Eddie loves when he's flustered.

"I uh... yeah okay. If you want." Eddie shrugs, tries to act normal. Like any of this is normal. And Steve fucking beams at him, that beautiful smile on full display.

"Okay cool. Just uh... here you can sit here while I get this cleaned up and get a towel and I'll be right back." He's talking fast, his hands flailing and jumping around as he talks. Eddie just nods, smiling at him as he watches him toss Eddie's chopped hair into the trash. Watches him take a lock of it and tie it in a knot, tells Eddie he'll put it somewhere safe. So they'll know when it's fully grown out again.

Steve wipes up the counter and disappears, comes back with two towels a few seconds later. Instructs Eddie to sit on the floor. He sets a towel down for him to sit on and lays the other over the side of the tub.

Eddie lets Steve guide him. His hands gentle as he lowers Eddie's head back over the tub, asks if he's comfortable, Eddie hums an affirmation. Steve makes sure the water is warm, not too hot, because Eddie doesn't like hot water. He gets it perfect. And then starts pouring water onto Eddie's hair.

Eddie's not sure where he got the cup. Or if it was already there for some reason. He means to ask but Steve's fingers sink into his hair and his brain short circuits. The shampoo smells amazing. Minty. It tingles against his scalp in the best way as Steve's fingers move in slow circles.

Eddie's eyes fall closed. He's sure he makes some obscene noise but Steve is kind enough not to comment. His fingers working magic in Eddie's hair. He rinses with warm water, the contrast from the cool minty feeling making Eddie shiver.

He hears Steve laugh a quiet laugh as he does and smiles himself. He hears another bottle pop open and closed and then Steve's fingers are back. Working the conditioner into his hair slowly, massaging it into his scalp as well. His hands moving slowly, with a purpose, for what feels like hours. He pulls back eventually, fingers dragging slowly through Eddie's hair as he goes.

"I'm gonna let that sit for about two minutes and then we'll rinse okay? You doin okay? Not in pain are you?" Steve all but whispers in Eddie's ear. The radio is still playing in the background. But Eddie couldn't tell you a single fucking song that had played since Steve started touching him.

"I'm good. Kinda tired. But that might just be your magic fingers." He peaks one eye open, watches as Steve laughs, shakes his head. He closes his eye again and laughs too. Only it wasn't a joke. Not really. Steve's fingers were magic. Just like the rest of him.

Steve hums along to Queen's Radio Ga Ga as they wait, Eddie tapping out the beat on his thigh as Steve hums and sways. The song ends and Steve scoots closer.

"Ready?" He asks, turning the water back on.

"As I'll ever be." Eddie deadpans, scooting back a bit from where he'd slid down.

"You're not gonna try and put products in my hair and blow dry it are you?" Eddie asks as Steve starts pouring water over him, fingers moving quicker now, moving his hair around to get it clean, he snorts again.

"No. Just wanted to get you clean." He says, pouring one last cup of water over his hair and turning the tap off. He grabs at each side of the towel under Eddie's neck and lifts, pulling Eddie up and wrapping his hair in one smooth motion. Eddie's eyes land on him and he can't help it.

"So my hair was gross. I knew it." He sighs, watches Steve's nose crinkle.

"It really wasn't that bad. But you thought it was. So i figured this would help." Steve shrugged, like it was nothing. Eddie bit his lip as Steve patted and scrunched his hair in the towel, being careful not to pull.

He claps his hands down on his thighs and helps Eddie get back on his feet. Pulls him genlty to stand in front of the mirror again and smiles soflty when Eddie takes the towel off his head and drags his own fingers through his hair.

It's short, leveled at his chin, a little above when he tucks it behind his ears. And he feels... better. Lighter. He shoves his hands up into the back of it, taking a deep breathe when his fingers drag over his neck, it makes him shiver.

"Fuck. I'm gonna be cold now." He mutters, chuckling in his throat, he hadn't thought about that.

"I'll keep you warm." Steve's voice is soft, when he speaks. The tape in the deck clicks and goes quiet as they stare at each other in the mirror.

"I just wanted you to feel better. But I'll gladly keep you warm too. Whatever you need Eddie. I- I mean I'm here. For you. Not goin anywhere." He shrugs after he mumbles through his little confession, his eyes on the floor when he turns to Eddie.

"I feel better." Eddie whispers, bites his lip and decides to be brave.

He steps forward, into Steve's space, Steve lifts his head, hazel eyes darting around Eddie's face. Eddie hears his breath stutter when he leans closer, presses his lips to Steve's cheek, firm.

Wanting no doubt in Steve's mind that Eddie means this. Means to kiss him. Means to pull him into a tight hug after. Means to hum happily into Steve's neck when Steve pulls him close, arms wrapping around Eddie's skinny frame and holding him tight.

"I'm not going anywhere either." Eddie breathes into his shoulder, presses another kiss there, into his shirt, like a promise. Steve squeezes him tighter, Eddie thinks he might be crying. His chest fluttering against Eddie's as he breathes shakily.

"Can I sleep in your bed tonight?" Eddie asks, lets Steve pull away a bit so he can see him. Eddie was right, there are tears in his eyes, but he's smiling as he looks at Eddie.

"Yeah. Course you can. You can sleep there every night if you want. Forever." Steve says, nuzzles into Eddie touch as he wipes tears away from his flushed cheeks.

"Forever huh?" Eddie teases, kissing acoss Steve's cheeks genlty as he laughs, it's wet, and wobbly, and Eddie is so fucking in love with him already.

"Yeah. Forever. Or however long you want me I guess." He shrugs again, dismissive, as if he really thinks Eddie would ever give him up.

"Forever sounds good to me. Not fucking letting you go now I've got you." Eddie whispers, his hands holding Steve's face, Steve's hands on his wrists, holding him too.

"You're gonna keep me forever?" Steve asks, his lip trembling as he looks at Eddie with hope in his teary eyes.

"Forever and ever, if I can." Eddie nods, and it seems to break Steve. He sighs, grabs at Eddie's pajama shirt and tugs him forward. Their lips crash together, a little rough at first, their teeth clicking until Steve seems to calm and slow down. His lips move genlty against Eddie's, soft and slow, and when he pulls back he's smiling again, his crooked little half smile that Eddie loves so much.

Steve scrunches his hair a few more times and then drags Eddie upstairs, gets them both comfy in his bed. And he holds Eddie as they fall alseep, pressing kisses into his hair and against his temple before sleep takes him.

Eddie wakes up warm. Drapped across Steve's chest as the sun hits them. He feels lips press into his hair, smiles when Steve makes exaggerated kissy noises. But he keeps his eyes closed, nuzzles deeper into Steve as he feels his fingers press into his hair.

Eddie hums as they drag through a few times, nimbly untangling rats or snags as they move. He sinks deeper into Steve, his heart fluttering as Steve's hand moves through his hair genlty, scratching at his scalp as he goes, before settling against the back of his neck, his thumb moving in slow cirles against the newly exposed skin.

Eddie whimpers into Steve's chest and snuggles closer, Steve keeping him warm, just like he promised. Eddie couldn't wait to spend forever with him.

#steddie #my writing #mine #my fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #Fates Endless Inkwell #fei #just a random little idea i had

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Love Never Wanted Me ( But I Took It Anyway )

Baron Lamram x GN reader

Summary: The morning after you and Baron finally fall into bed together you decide to make him breakfast in bed. He has other ideas.

Warnings: one use of "baby", slightly rough sex, biting, slightly possessive Baron, kitchen sex (no food involved in the sex), fluff and snuggles also. It's got it all. ONE TEENY TINY SPOILER FOR MARMALADE BUT IF YOU HAVEN'T BEEN SPOILER ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE YOU SHOULD BE FINE!!!!

Minors be gone!!! 18+ only!!! Avert your eyes children!!!!

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The morning sun wakes you, shining in your eyes through the crooked blinds on the window. You groan low in your throat and turn away, the sound stalling in your throat when you see someone lying next to you. Your heart flutters for a moment before last night rushes back to you.

You'd been out with Baron. At the same bar you two always went to. Joking and laughing and talking to only each other, though you both always used the excuse of needing to meet people to get there. You didn't really wanna meet anyone. You just wanted to be with him. However he'd have you.

You'd grown close in the past year, since meeting him when you visted your grandmother. He was sweet, and a little odd at times, but oddness had never been off-putting to you. He'd helped you learn your way around. And you'd quickly become friends.

And last night. Both of you seemed to have finally had enough. Enough waiting. And just the right amount of alcohol to make you both lighter. Knocking your guards down. And he'd kissed you, a smile on his lips when you looked at him after. And then you'd fallen into bed with him. Finally.

You smile as you watch him now, sleeping next to you. He snuffles, his nose scrunching, as he breathes in deeply before huffing into his pillow, his brows knitting together. You sink your teeth into your lip and reach out, allowed to touch him now.

You sooth your knuckles genlty over the small crease on his head, moving a bit of his hair out of the way, easier now, since he'd gotten it cut a few months ago. You missed the long hair some days. But watching the way his face calms with your touch, you're glad to be able to see him. You move your thumb over his cheek genlty, watch him snuggle down into his pillow, and slowly climb out of bed.

You grab your shirt and your underwear, tugging them on as you stumble around quietly, making your way down the hall to the bathroom. You wash your face and find your eyes lingering on his toothbrush. Your fingertips almost touching it, but you pass by it and grab the toothpaste instead. Using your finger to freshen up a bit at least.

You almost crawl back into bed, but your stomach rumbles and you get a better idea. Baron seemed the type to like breakfast in bed. You hoped. He'd never really spoken about his past relationships, so you couldn't be sure. But... most people would find it sweet. Surely.

You fumble around the kitchen for a bit, checking cabinets and the fridge. Eggs, milk, butter, bread. You found a bottle of syrup in the small pantry and decided to give it a go.

You're flipping the second peice of frenchtoast when he comes up behind you, arms sliding around your waist carefully, his nose tucking behind your ear and nuzzling.

"Smells good." He hums, his breath on your skin sending shivers dancing across your skin.

"Thanks. French toast. You like yours crispy or soft?" You ask, humming yourself when he presses a kiss to your neck.

"Mmm I like mine sweet." He whispers, licks up your neck slowly and then drags his teeth back down the path he'd made. Your eyes close involuntarily as you lean back into him. His hands moving to your hips, fingtips dipping under the hem of your underwear and staying there, against your warm skin, frustrating.

He kisses back up your neck, you turn your head to meet him, smiling into the kiss. His tongue dips inside your mouth and you moan, your hand clenches on the spatula you're holding. Or trying to hold.

"You're minty." He breathes into your mouth, tongue licking across your bottom lip before he pulls back to look at you, head dipping to brush his nose across your shoulder.

"So are you." You accuse, gently, smiling at him as his eyes move over your face. His hair is a mess from sleep, and from your hands the night before. He's wearing a soft light blue shirt and boxers. He looks so soft you want to hug him and touch him. But his firm hold keeps you in place, your back snug against his chest.

"Did you use my toothbrush?" He asks, his voice husky and low, and you know it's not just from sleep. You can feel him against you, hard and warm where his hips are pressed against you. You move back into him and shake your head, feeling flustered, because you'd thought about it. You'd wanted to.

"Wanted too though. Didn't ya?" He asks, though it isn't a question, judging by the look in his eyes, and the slow roll of his hips. You dig your teeth into your lip and nod. He nods back, reaches out and turns the stove off, settles his hand back on your hip.

He moves his other hand to your stomach, settles it there, his palm warm through your shirt.

"Wanted to wake up next you." He mumbles into your shoulder, nosing at your neck again as his hand moves down.

"I'm sorry. Thought you might want breakfast in bed." You sigh, letting your head fall back onto his shoulder. You feel him nod, feel his lips against your shoulder, and then his teeth again as he tucks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, his skin against yours sending electricity through your body.

"I did." He says, voice gravely, his hand moving down, deeper, until you're squirming in his arms, your hand dropping the spatula. It clatters to the floor, forgotten, as he moves his fingers, oh so slowly.

"Baron." You breathe his name like a prayer, feel his teeth on your neck, and then a smile, and then his tongue soothing over the spot.

"Wanted you in bed. With me." His free hand moves to you cheek, turns your face towards him.

"Can I?" He asks, hips rolling against you, pressing you against the stove. He looks down at the stovetop quickly and moves you roughly to the side, away from the heat, pressing you against the counter instead. You're almost panting now, your lungs not filling enough as you breath, light headed and dizzy from his touch.

"Yeah." You breathe, your hands find his arm and clentching, nails digging into his skin.

"Please." You beg, pushing your hips back into him. He smiles against your lips and moves his hand, curls his fingers up into you. Your hands slam down on the counter top as you whine, high in your throat. His teeth dig into your lip genlty before he presses his tongue into your mouth, painfully slow as he moves his fingers, lighting fires across your skin.

"Oh fuck." You pant, bending forward, your muscle tight.

"I know baby." He whispers, moving with you, pressing against your back. He kisses behind your ear and then tugs your underwear down, just to your thighs, trapping them together. You rest your head against the cool counter top and feel him shove at his boxers. He doesn't give you anymore warning before he presses into you. Both of you moaning at the feeling. His teeth are in your shoulder again and his hips press flush to you, your hands scrambling for purchase on the counter.

"Jesus fuck." You pant, and he laughs in your ear, rolls his hips deeper.

"Yeah? You like that?" He asks, voice low in your ear. You can't speak, the pressure in your body, and his skin against yours almost maddening. You bite into your lip hard and nod, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

Then you feel his hands on you again, moving down your arms. His palms move over the backs of your hands and he laces your fingers together, his hips finding a slow rhythm as he moves in you. You can't stop the whimper that falls past your lips.

"Knew you would." He's panting too, you can feel his hot breath on your neck, feel his hips stuttering as you clench around him, squeezing his fingers tight with your own, pleasure washing over you as you cry out.

He doesn't stop then, just keeps his hips moving, slow, and rhythmic though your orgasm, and keeps moving despite your whines of feeble protests, his fingers clenching yours tightly.

"I know. Fuck. You feel so good." He pants, hips moving a little faster, pressing you harder against the counter, you feel his forehead rest between your shoulder blades.

"So fucking good. And all mine." He gasps, yanks his hands free of yours and wraps them around your waist, pulling you up with him, your back pulled flush to his chest. You can feel his heart beating fast against your skin and he whines into your shoulder and grinds himself deeper.

"You're mine now. Never letting you go." He growls into your shoulder, teeth biting at your shirt as he pulls back and then slams into you again, groaning and grabbing at you, pulling you impossibly closer.

Your skin burns at his words. His. You are. Have been since last night. Since he kissed you. Since he pressed you down into the matress, curled his arms up under your shoulders and buried himself as deep as he could in you, fingers leaving bruises on your shoulders.

And you remember what he'd told you, at the bar, before he kissed you. That no one had ever loved him. Not really. Not like this. You remember the look in his eyes as he undressed you and took you apart peice by peice. And you know you love him. Know that you're his. Forever. As long as he'll have you.

Your nails scratch down his arm as he pushes deeper, grinding into the perfect fucking spot inside you that no one's ever hit like this.

"Fucking mine." He growls, teeth sinking into your neck briefly, his tongue following it quickly, soothing the hurt as you writhe and come apart in his arms.

"Yours. I'm yours. All yours." You babble, words falling past your lips as your brain shuts down, his hands are everywhere, all over you, pushing and pulling and holding you close, fingers digging into your skin hard as his rhythm falters.

One hand grabs your cheek, turns your face to him so he kiss you, his tongue pressing into your mouth in sync with his hips moving against you and its too much. Too much and so so perfect. You grab at his hair and he moans, deep, his hips shoving you into the counter roughly as he cums, his teeth on your neck again sinking deep, your thighs shaking and clenching as you follow him over the egde.

"Fuck. Sorry." He sighs into your back, head pressed between your shoulders again. You laugh, feathery light, in your throat. Your arms shaking as they brace you on the counter.

"What for?" You asks, chest heaving. He slips out of you, and groans when you reach down and quickly pull your underwear up. You turn, finally able to face him, his arms wrap around you immediately, tugging you close. He moves his fingertips over your neck, and it stings, a little.

"Didn't mean to bite you that hard." His brows are furrowed as he looks at your neck.

"It's fine." You shake your head, arms wrapped around him too, your hands pressed gently to his back, your legs still a bit wobbly, but he frowns.

"You're bleeding." He says, and he sounds like he's far away, somewhere else. He gets that way sometimes. You reach up, cradle his face and make him look at you.

"It's okay. I liked it." You nod, reassuring, press your lips to his genlty. You pull back and his eyes are wide, he blinks at you, slowly.

"Yeah?" He asks, sounding so unsure, and small. You press further into his space, press a kiss to his neck and rest your head on his shoulder.

"Yeah. And besides. I hurt you too." You whisper, moving your hand down his arm, drawing his attention to the scratches your left behind as you clawed at him. He smiles at them, slow and syrupy. He looks tired.

"Wanna go back to bed?" You asks, nosing into his neck before standing straight again. His brow furrows again, eyes moving to the two plates set on the counter, one already loaded with french toast.

"But you made food." He says, and he still sounds dreamy. And you like him dreamy, you really do, wanna hold him close under his covers when he's like that. So you take his hand, give it a squeeze and smile at him.

"We can warm it up later. C'mon." And tug him back to bed.

You've been laying in peaceful silence for almost an hour, hands moving across each others skin, touching each other, gentle, innocent touches that seem to ground him. You're hand finds his hair and he sighs, bone deep. His eyes close for a moment and when he opens them again that glassy dreamy look is fading.

His fingers walk up your arm, his skin warm, before they land on your neck. You know they're hovering at the edge of the mark he made. What you think might be an actual bite mark, teeth imprints an all. Something you'll have to hide when you leave here. Or not.

The urge to leave it uncovered for everyone to see sends a rush through you and you feel dizzy again. You briefly wonder if he'll ever stop making you feel that way, and decide just as fast that you don't want it to stop.

You move your hand up, cover his and move them both to rest on the matress between you, your legs are tangled together, there's not much space there really, just enough for your entwined hands.

"I really hurt you." He whispers, his eyes wide as they stare at your neck.

"It didn't hurt." You say, shaking your head.

"How did that not hurt?" He asks, frowning, his voice incredulous.

"I didn't even feel it." You laugh through your nose, squeeze his hand, move his fingers to your lips and kiss them for good measure. He's still not satisfied.

"But how-"

"I was a little preoccupied with other feelings. Baron." You look at him, pointedly. And smile when realization washes over him and his cheeks tint pink.

"Right. Okay." He says, sheepish, burying his face deeper into the pillow.

"Yeah. Dork." You mutter, reaching out, wiggling a little closer, sinking your hand in his hair again. He sighs, like always, apparently, and opens one eye to look at you, his nose scrunching.

"You're sure I didn't hurt you? That it- that it's okay?" He asks, and you hear the question beneath the question.

'You're sure it's not too much. That I'm, not too much.'

You nod, blinking slowly at him. He stares at you, so you stare back, let his eyes move over your face, looking for something. A lie, you guess. When he doesn't find it, he nods, presses closer and kisses you.

"How are you gonna cover it? Is that? That's a thing right? People covering lo- covering marks and stuff?" He asks, moving his fingers over it again. You squint at the pain and he moves his hand to your shoulder instead, wincing with you.

"People cover love marks yeah." You say, filling in the words he stumbled over, making him blush again, he rolls his eyes at you.

"But I don't think I'm going too." You shrug, smiling at him soflty. He frowns at you, eyes on your neck again.

"It's like- people won't ask you about it? It's like... kinda bad." He says, cringing as he stares at it. You shrug again, push yourself up onto your elbow so he has to look up at you.

"It's fine. It's just a bite mark. Besides," you say, leaning over him, hand planted next to his head as you hover above him.

"If I cover it up, how will people know I'm yours?" Your eyebrow twitches up as you smirk down at him. He gulps, reaches up and cups your cheek.

"I guess, that's a good point." He says, voice a little higher than normal.

"I thought so." You twitch your nose at him, press a soft kiss to his lips, both of you smiling when you hum into at the same time.

You lower yourself down and curl into his side, his arm wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you close as his thumb moves soothingly up under your shirt sleeve.

"Mine huh?" He whispers above you.

"Yep. Yours. You'll never get rid of me now." You snuggle deeper into his chest, your arm tugging him closer, tucking your hand beneath him, wiggling your fingers against him util he squirms, a little laugh bubbling out of him. His fingers press deeper into your arm before he moves his hand up to cradle your neck instead, fingers resting on the mark he'd made, gentle, so he doesn't hurt you.

"Wouldn't dream of getting rid of you. Keeping you forever." He says quietly, his voice soft and slow with sleep.

You smile against his chest, move yourself up a bit and tuck your face into his neck. You watch him smile at the movement, tucking you in closer to him as you both sink deeper into his sheets, tangled together, from head to foot. His fingers pressed to your skin where he'd torn it open with his teeth, his touch soft, and safe, and yours.

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Requested and written for @jozstankovich my beloved. 💛💙💛

#my writing #baron lamram x reader #baron lamram fic #baron lamram x gn reader #baron lamram x gender neutral reader #baron lamram x you #my fic #mine

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Holiday Magic

Gator Tillman x GN Reader, friends to lovers, fluff( no pronouns used for the reader [lemme know if i missed any tho just in case] )

Summary: It's Valentines Day, Dot and Wayne and Scotty are all out of the house. It's just you and Gator and the cupcakes you're making. Oh and the massive crush you have on your best friend. What could go wrong?

Warnings: blind gator (if that's one), food and eating, slight mentions of past abuse, very small, like one or two sentences of it.

{ Also these are some of the songs i was imagining. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. }

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"You guys have fun!" You say, smiling as Dot shrugs on her coat, Wayne kneeling to tie his shoes by the door behind her.

"Oh we will hun. And think about what I said." She ducks in to hug you, squeezing you tight. You smile and shake your head.

"Now none'a that. I'm tellin you he feels the same way." She pats your cheeks, you crinkle your nose at her, she does it back and laughs.

"I just...can't. Cuz what if-" you lower your voice and lean closer, worried your friend might hear you, though he's all the way upstairs,

"What if you're wrong? And I say something. And it just makes thing weird? I don't-" you take a deep breath, shaking your head again.

"I'm not sure I could handle things being weird between us. Just because I went and fell for him like an idiot. Ya know?" You shrug.

"Oh hun. Don't say that. You're not an idiot. And I'm not wrong." She smirks, that little twinkle in her eyes that you love so much. Wayne stands with a small groan behind her and puts his arm around his wife, smiling at you.

"She's right ya know. He's definitely sweet on you. Just try. Be brave. We know ya are." He smiles, nods encouragingly. You take a deep breath and then groan loudly, both of them laughing at how flustered you are as they head for the door.

"And hey," Dot turns, points at you, face serious.

"I know he can't see you. But you look cute enough to eat." She nods to your outfit. Just something a bit nicer than what you usually wear, nothing terribly fancy.

"Thanks." You mutter, looking at the floor.

"And I'll try... I guess... Maybe." You look back, smiling sheepishly at them. They laugh and wave as they head out the door. You lean in the doorway as they get in the car, waving again as they back out of the driveway. You shut the door and lean against it, hoping their valentine's dinner goes well. And the movie after it.

Dot had told you she and Wayne would be out late. And Scotty was at a party at a friends so you didn't have to take care of her tonight either. It was just you and Gator. And your baking. Dot offered up her oven to you, and her kitchen, when she learned you loved to bake things. And you'd been using her kitchen ever since.

You were mixing your last batch of cherry chip cupcakes when you heard Gator coming slowly down the stairs. His feet moving with precision, finding each step carefully before setting his foot down on it. You peeked around the corner, watching him, always worried he'd fall. But you'd only seen him trip once, the whole time you'd known him. He got around well once he knew the layout of places.

His blue bandana was wrapped snug around his eyes, hiding the scars you knew were there, but had only seen once or twice. He didn't like people looking at them. Or him, really, all that much. Not because of that. So he covered them. And you didn't mind not seeing, you just wanted him to be comfortable.

"They leave already?" He called when his foot hit the floor and he was on solid ground again. He adjusts the bandana, fingers pushing and tugging at the edge of it as his feet shuffle toward the living room. You look away, moving back to what you're doing.

"Yep! Mom and Dad are off on their date. Scotty's at a little valentine's party. Which is adorable to me, we never did that when we were little. I mean maybe at school but not at each others houses." You smile as you pour the cupcakes and set the tray in the oven, twisting your timer and setting your bowls in the sink as Gator moves into the living room.

His fingers twitch at his sides as he moves. And you know it's because he's fighting the urge to reach out and feel his way around. Dot had told you he did that. Hid and changed the way he got around when people were watching. You smile to yourself as you watch him, arms crossing over your chest.

"And you should have seen the little tux she was wearing. I've never seen a tiny human look so dapper." Gator's head tilts toward the sound of your voice, a laugh falling past his lips at your words.

"She's not that tiny." He scoffs, shaking his head, standing in front of the couch hesitantly. Like he's not sure he wants to sit or not.

"She's tiny to me. It's like when you're a senior in highschool and you look at the freshmen coming in, and it's impossible that you could have ever been that small. They're just babies!" You exclaim, hands flailing in front of you. He laughs loud this time, reaching down to feel the couch before plopping down onto the soft cushions.

"They're like fourteen." He argues, still chuckling.

"Yeah. Fourteen year old babies!" You concede. He snorts again, shakes his head, soothes his hands over his thighs as he sits. You can see the small smile still on his face, like he's content to just sit there and argue with you. And he is. And so are you. It's an easy rhythm you've both gotten used too. The teasing. And the joking.

"Want me to put the radio on?" You ask, already reaching for it before he answers you.

"Yeah sure. Whatcha makin'?" He asks, head tilting, nose sniffing exaggeratedly at the air. Your nose crinkles as you hold back the urge to laugh at him. Sitting there sniffing the air like a curious puppy.

"Cupcakes. Cherry chip. Chocolate frosting for the top. And I'm thinking maybe cherry frosting filling for a few. But I haven't decided." Your brow furrows as you look around the kitchen. One batch already cooling. Almost ready to frost once you get it all mixed together.

"Hmm. Chocolate covered cherry cupcakes." Gator hums, his head tilting.

"Oh. Yeah, I guess so. I didn't even realize." You mumble, wiping at your forehead with the back of your hand. You're sure your covered in flour and batter and frosting. Not that it matters, because he can't see you to make fun of your mess anyway. You hear him chuckle behind you and turn to see him shaking his head at you again. You huff loudly and he snorts at you, his smile growing.

You just stand there. Watching him. And you know you shouldn't. Know it's rude to stare. You know he doesn't like it. But you're not staring because of his eyes. You're staring because... of him. Just him. You've been finding it harder and harder to not stare lately.

The more you've gotten to know him, the more you'd liked him. And you'd watched him grow, since he got here, the new boy next door. Showing up after all the trauma with his family. A trauma he and Dot shared. And he'd been angry, and hurt, and in pain.

But you babysat Scotty for them during the week when they couldn't be home early, so you'd been around. Didn't ask too many questions, though you wanted too, and he seemed to like that. Seemed to relax around you. And when you did eventually start asking questions, he'd answered them. Mostly. Best he could.

You'd watched him grow, into himself, and into the family. And the way he was with Scotty always melted your heart. He never called her Scotty, always "kid" or "kiddo" or "bookworm". But the way he smiled and laughed with her. The way he let himself be tugged and guided gently around the house by her, completely at her beck and call, made your insides all warm and gooey.

He was your best friend. You knew that. You hadn't had many growing up. But he was a good listener. And a good talker too, once he got going, and felt safe enough to. You could listen to him talk for hours, and you had, day after day. Sitting in his room late at night, just listening to him talk and watching as his hands moved when he got more passionate about things.

You wanted to grab those hands sometimes. Just snatch them out of the air and hold them. Maybe press gentle kisses to his scarred knuckles and whisper how much you loved watching him talk. How much you loved listening to all the wonderfully weird ideas he had sometimes. Loved how creative he was even though he tried to hide it. You wanted to tell him how much you loved him.

But you never did. Never managed to find the courage. Just sat on his bed and watched him. Like you were watching him now. Sitting on the couch, his head moving slowly side to side as the radio played some love song. He was more a metal guy, but it didn't seem to be an issue today.

The timer ringing behind you on the island startles you out of your thoughts with a loud gasp. You huff a startled breath and grab it,  twist it off, and grab the cupcakes out of the oven. Turning it off and leaving them to cool. You mix the frosting for the first batch. Cherry and chocolate. You decide you're gonna fill a few.

You work quietly, filling and frosting, humming along to each song that plays. Not really paying attention to them all that well. Your tongue sticking out as you concentrate, trying to get the little swirl in the frosting just right. You're starting on the next one when Gator speaks again, for the first time in you don't know how long.

"Do you just know every song?" He asks, you almost drop the cupcake in your hand as your back straightens at the sudden noise.

"What's that?" You ask, looking across the island at him, he's turned on the couch, head resting on the back of it, one knee pulled up onto it, and if he could see, you know he'd have been watching you this whole time.

You look at him for a moment, navy sweatpants and a soft grey shirt, his socks mismatched, like always, courtesy of Scotty, you're sure. He looks so soft, relaxed, his hair falling in his face a bit. He smiles at your question, amused that you didn't hear him through your concentration.

"The songs. You've been humming to like, all of them." He nods toward the radio as the song changes again.

"You know this one too?" He asks, lips twitching against his arm on the back of the couch, head resting there as he waits for your answer.

You let the song play a little, listening, and of course you know this song too.

"Yeees." You drawl, setting the cupcake and the frosting piper down, licking some cherry frosting off your fingers.

"Of course you do." He snorts into his arm. And you know he'd be rolling his eyes if he could.

"Oh I'm sorry. I didn't know it was illegal to enjoy music in this house." You scoff, wiping your hands on your apron and crossing your arms as you watch him smile brightly.

"It's not illegal. But jesus. Every song?" He asks, shaking his head again.

"I like music! What's wrong with that?" You ask, taking a step around the island, toward him, you feel like you're always moving toward him these days, needing to be closer.

"Nothing!" He says, laughing as he raises his hands in surrender.

"It's just- I guess I just never knew anyone who liked that many songs and different...uh... what's it called. Like different types'a music I guess." He says, his hands tucking around his leg on the couch.

"Different genres?" You ask, taking another step, the song on the radio is slow, makes you want to sway to it. You're fingers itch with need. The need to touch, and hold, and move.

"Yeah that!" He snaps his fingers, points at you. You smile. His own smile wide with excitement that you knew what he meant.

"I just like all kinds of music. Different genres have different things to offer ya know?" You say, leaning your hip against the island as you watch him nod.

"Right. Yeah. Makes sense. You like rock and stuff too?" He asks, teeth digging into his lip.

"Yep. Love it." You say, popping the p, and smiling when he smiles, the two of you mirroring each other though he doesn't know it.

"Cool. It's not really, Valentines music though I guess." He says, slowly, eyebrows scrunching as he thinks about it.

"I don't know. There's a few ballads that'd be good I think. For rock people." You shrug, push yourself off the island as the song changes yet again, another slow song, another one you know. You watch him nod again, teeth still worrying at his lip, he looks nervous. And that's what does it, for some reason.

You take your apron off and walk over to him. You watch him track your movements through sounds, "looking" up at you when you end up standing in front of him. You look down at him for a moment, watch his tongue peak out as he licks his lips.

"Gimme your hand." You say, almost whisper.

"What for?" He asks, his voice tight, he's on edge, suspicious. Your heart aches for him, and for what he's been through to cause that feeling.

"Don't your trust me?" You tease, knowing he hates pity, always. Responds better when you put a little bite into it. The teasing he's good with. He tilts his head, like he's trying to hear your intentions.

"I um... I mean yeah. I do." His hand raises off his leg a bit, but not high enough to reach yours, stopping mid air. Uncertain. You smile, reach down and take his hand carefully.

"Here. C'mon. Come with me." You give his hand a little tug and he stands. You stumble back a step at his sudden proximity and he huffs dramatically.

"Where are we going? Aren't you cookin' or somethin'?" His voice is laced with annoyance, but you know he's just nervous, worried, that you might be pranking him. And you hate that he still thinks that way. But you don't hold it against him, years in a prison hospital ingraining that feeling deep.

"I'm just frosting now. This is more important." You tell him, giving his warm hand a squeeze as you pull him toward the space between the kitchen and the living room. A nice little open space, perfect for what you need. You stop and face him, take his other hand in yours as well. You watch him swallow nervously, his fingers twitching against yours.

"What are you doing?" He asks, his voice soft, and small.

"We. Are gonna dance. If- if you want?" You ask, shoulders jumping, hands twitching nervously in his. He licks his lips, eyebrows jumping on his forehead, popping over the bandana before disappearing again.

"Dancing? Right here?" He asks, sounding unsure.

"If that's okay with you? I know all the songs remember? It's nice to dance. And not just hum along sometimes." You breath out a small, nervous laugh, you heart pounding in your chest. Hoping he doesn't push you away, or tell you it's stupid, or something else equally horrible and embarrassing. His lips twitch, just the smallest amount, but you see it.

"I don't... really know how to dance." He says, his brows furrowing again, bunching together beneath the blue bandana.

"Only time there was ever dancing was at church sometimes. And no one ever really wanted to dance with me. So I don't... sorry." The apology is automatic. A thing he does. Not as often now. But he falls back on it. When he thinks he's done something wrong. He apologizes.

"It's okay. Dancings not so hard. Here." You move his hands slowly to your waist. And then move your hands up his arms to rest on his shoulders.

"And then we just- sorta move. Just sway with the music." You say, starting to move. He moves with you, fingers pressing into your hips as he smiles at you. He tilts his head forward a few times, like he's trying to look at his feet, before he straightens back up.

"Don't know what the fuck I think I'm lookin at. Not gonna see nothin." He mutters, and you know he's talking to himself, mostly, but you laugh anyway, and it makes him smile, makes him braver.

He moves closer, arms moving around your waist, holding you close. You smile too, bite your lip and move your hands. Let them fall over his shoulders, resting your arms there instead.

"See. You're a natural." You tell him, huffing a laugh, his nose scrunches and he nods at you. You can see his cheeks flexing, like he's squeezing his eyes shut tight or blinking hard. Or trying too.

You take a deep breath and move again, press closer, settle your head on his shoulder, your nose nearly pressed against his neck. You feel him trembling against you, feel the shakey breath he takes before moving his hands up and down your back genlty.

"I'm doing okay?" He asks you after a moment, both of you swaying slowly.

"Perfect." You pull back, eyes on his face.

"You're perfect." You whisper, eyes on his mouth. And if you were braver, you'd kiss him. But the dancing seems to be where your bravery ends. You move your hand, from the air behind his head to the back of his neck, your fingers tucking into his hair there. He sighs, seems to melt into you.

"I'm really not." He says, and you can hear that self depreciation that he hides so well.

"You are to me. For me, maybe. I don't know. But I-" your breath catches in your throat. His head moves to the side, listening, always.

"You what?" He asks, and you can feel his breath on your skin you're so close now. His hand moves up your back slowly, and then up under your arm, it finds it way to your neck carefully, his thumb brushing over your jaw.

"You what?" He asks again, insistent, his head dipping closer, his hair brushing your forehead. Your fingers twitch in his hair, against his neck, you know he can feel it.

"I just. I think maybe that I-" you cut off again, take a deep, frustrated breath. He smiles then, hums a laugh.

"You love me." He says, his head moving closer, his nose brushing against your cheek. Your heart pounds, your hands have to be sweaty, and warm again his neck and shoulder where you're holding him tightly now. He doesn't seem to mind.

"Wha- I didn't- I mean i'm-"

"You love me." He says again, cutting you off. And he's, oh you know that look, he's smug now. Lips twitching up at the corner, his thumb moves over your jaw as he smiles.

"Well you love me too." You huff, brows crinkling as you frown at him. A laugh bursts out of him. His arm still around your waist tugs you closer, you're chest to chest now and there's no way he can't feel how fast your heart is beating. He's still smiling, and now he's nodding.

"Yeah. I do. I do love you." He whispers into the the small space between you.

"I know. I- I love you too." You say, softer now, watching his face, that warm smile fading to something else. A look of concentration moving over his features.

"What? What's wrong?" You ask, your hand moving to his forehead, fingers pressing into the crease between his brows, soothing it. He softens under your touch, leans into it when your hand moves to his cheek. He shakes his head, once.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, so soft, so earnest. You nod. Forgetting he can't see you, rolling your eyes at yourself.

"You just said you love me and you're asking if you can kiss me?" You breathe, a giddy laugh punching out of you. He shrugs, nods.

"Yeah. Asking for permission's always good right? Or does it- does it ruin the moment?" He asks, face going serious again. You bite your lip, move your hand further into his hair and smile when he sighs at the touch again.

"It doesn't ruin the moment. Just makes it better. I think." You tell him, curling your fingers in his hair.

"Good. I'm glad I didn't ruin it." His voice is thick with emotion, and your chest aches as his hand moves from your neck to your mouth. His fingertips moving gently over your lips, his thumb following them, you press your lips into his thumb and watch him smile as he leans closer, his thumb moving away the second before his lips touch yours

It's just a soft kiss. A sweet, warm press of lips against yours. Gentle and full of care. And it's everything.

His hand on your back pulls you closer and you gasp, he smiles against your lips and then his tongue hits your bottom lip, moving genlty, asking for permission. You sigh into his mouth and press closer, letting him in. His hand finds your hair, fingers moving against your scalp softly before his fingers get tangled and he groans into your mouth. You laugh into his and then you're pulling apart, reaching back to untangle him as you both laugh.

His head falls to your shoulder once you free his hand and he groans again.

"Sorry." He moans, you rub his back and pull him close, swaying from side to side again as you hold him.

"It's okay. It was funny. Kind of perfectly us." You sooth. And then he's standing straight again, his hand finding your face slowly, thumb settling at the corner of your mouth, like a guide in case he needs it again.

"You taste good." He says, like that's a normal thing to say, like it didn't just make your knees weak.

"Um... I do?" Your nose scrunches, doubting him.

"Mhm." He hums, dips forward, presses his lips to yours again and pulls back.

"Like cherry frosting." He says, smiling again, thumb moving across your lips.

"Oh. Yeah. That makes sense." You nod, your voice a little higher than normal. He nods, presses his forehead against yours, stays there.

"Need any company while you frost the rest of them?" He asks, his voice soft between you.

"I'd love some." You nod, take his hand in yours and guide him towards the kitchen.

"You'd love some. More or less, than you love me?" He teases as you park him next to where you were working. You groan at his question, pushing your hand against the smug look on his face.

"Oh. More and more as we speak." You tease as he laughs and swats your hand away. You swat back at him and he catches your hand easily, sight or no, his reflexes are great, and fast, he tugs you to his chest, hand wrapped around your wrist.

"If I stop talking. You'll love me more?" He asks, his voice pitched low as he snakes his other arm around your waist. You shake your head, dip your free hand into the frosting, two fingers covered in chocolate.

"Don't ever stop talking." You say, moving your hand slowly, so he doesn't clock the movement.

"And I don't think I could love you more than I already do." You say, sweetly. He smiles, starts to lean in for a kiss and you smear the frosting across his cheek. His mouth drops open as he freezes.

"Oooh my god. What did you just do to my face?" He asks, sounding the most offended anyone has ever sounded. You snort, grab at his neck when both his hands let you go, held up in the air by his shoulders.

"Made it better." You say, pulling him toward you and licking the frosting off his face. He makes a strangled sound in his throat and you smile and shove gently at his chest as he grabs for you.

"Now behave. I have to get them finished before everyone gets home." He pouts dramatically, and sighs. But he stays back, and you watch him bring his fingers to his cheek where you licked him. Just a press of fingers before he sniffs, realizing you can see him, and drops his hands again.

"Here. This is for you." You take one of the cupcakes your frosted earlier and place it in his open waiting hand.

He peels the paper off genlty, feels for a spot on the island and sets it down before taking a big bite. There's frosting on his nose but you can't even focus on that because he moans so loudly as he chews you feel your cheeks flush.

"Jesus." You mutter. And he smirks at you.

"Asshole." You grumble, smiling when he laughs around a mouthful of cupcake, his lips covered in crumbs and brown and pink frosting. You can't help yourself, you grab his shirt and tug him into a kiss. The little surprised noise that catches in his throat is the best sound you'd ever heard.

"Now you taste like frosting." You say agaisnt his lips.

"You callin me sweet?" He teases, licking at the frosting on his lips, you bring your hand up and wipe at some with your thumb.

"I'll call you whatever you want." You say, licking your thumb clean. He leans into you then, nuzzles into your neck.

"Promise?" He whispers into your skin, his arm circling you again and tugging you close. Your move your fingers through his hair, press a kiss to his head.

"Promise." You whisper back, smiling when he hums into your shoulder and rocks the both of you back and forth gently.

You finish the cupcakes with him by your side, both of you humming and singing along with the songs that come on. You get them moved to the table, setting them out in a heart before Gator drags you away to sit on the couch, his arms around you as you watch a movie, describing what's happening for him. You lie a few times, just to make him laugh. And he does, he buries his face in your neck and laughs and holds you tighter when you tell him what really happened.

Dot and Wayne come home and find you alseep on the couch, wrapped up in each other. Holding each other and snuggled close, safe on their couch. In their house. Together. Both of them smiling as Wayne lays a blanket over you before they head upstairs.

"I knew they'd figure it out." Dot says, smiling as they crawl into bed. Wayne shakes his head as he tugs the covers up.

"I did too ya know. Just don't know how you always know exactly when these things are gonna happen hun. It's like a sixth sense with you or somethin." He clicks off the lights and Dot curls into his side.

"It's holiday magic that's all." She sighs, cuddling closer.

"Oh. And you owe me and Scotty twenty bucks." She tugs him closer, smiling into his chest as he laughs and holds her close.

Tag list ( do i do those? Not usually but i got peeps that need to see it 🤣🤣): @jozstankovich @friendly-jester

#gator tillman #gator tillman x reader #gator tillman x you #gator tillman fic #gator tillman x gn reader #mine #my writing #my fic