#Billy: Just accept it there's no escape | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zepskies · 1 year

Text

Break Me Down - Part 1

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

Word Count: 5,200 Warnings: Some male skeeviness lol.

Part 1: The Game Begins

Two months ago…

You and M.M. continued to pour over all the records that the CIA had been able to pull on Soldier Boy.

This had been your life for the past month: locked in one hotel room after the next, up to your eyeballs in research. Or pounding the pavement in the sweltering summer of Brazil, on any whisper of Soldier Boy.

Right now it was the former. You all were piled into M.M.’s room, as it was the only one with a kitchen.

You smiled at Frenchie and thanked him when he offered you a steaming mug. At least you would finally get to experience Brazilian coffee.

You hiked a foot on the table where you and M.M. were working and sipped carefully; the mug was filled to the brim. Your companion eyed your pajama-clad leg, which only encroached an inch or two into his space.

“Excuse the fuck outta me,” said M.M. “Can you not?”

You briefly looked up from the (completely fabricated) biopic you were reading on Soldier Boy. “Hmm?”

M.M. gestured to your bare foot on the table. “Hello? What, were you raised in a fucking barn?”

With an amused smile, you lowered your leg. “I’m cramping up. We’ve been at this for six hours.”

“And counting,” Hughie said with a tired sigh. He and Annie had just come from scoping the local tourist spots and dive bars in the city. It wasn’t for pleasure though. You all had arrived in Brazil last night on a rumor that Soldier Boy had been spotted at a club a couple of days ago.

Annie heaved a sigh as she dropped into the seat next to you. She stole your paper fan on the table and tried to dry the sweat on her face and neck. You smiled and passed her your bottled water as well.

You and Annie had been “work friendly” at Supe Affairs. Now you felt like she had accepted you the most readily into the group. She seemed genuinely interested in who you were as a person as well.

Though you tried not to give too many personal details about your life, she had a way of disarming you, getting you to open up with her genuine willingness to listen.

You were friendly enough with Hughie and Kimiko as well, and you could also admit, you liked M.M. He was a straightforward man (and fun to tease with his anal idiosyncrasies). You got the most done with M.M. by your side. And watching him with Frenchie was pure entertainment.

Overall, you felt respected by them, even if you knew you weren’t as close as the rest of them seemed to be. You just hadn’t been on the team long enough.

The only one who mostly ignored you was Billy Butcher.

Butcher didn’t want you on the team. He’d made that pretty clear from the beginning.

What had his words been? Oh, yeah.

She’s a fucking amateur. Won’t last thirty seconds if, heavens for-fuckin’-bid, she encounters an A-lister like Soldier Boy.

You knew he considered you dead weight. But as Grace had told him, her track record speaks for itself.

No, you weren’t former SAS, like Butcher. You weren’t CIA, or any other military alphabet soup. But if there was one thing you knew how to do, it was tracking people down.

You were currently flitting through Soldier Boy’s sham career: the shitty music videos, the starlets, the ticker tape parades, and what precious little there was about his beginnings: about “Ben.”

You did find out that his family was from Hartford, Connecticut, and stupidly rich too. You found his parents’ names to go along with that.

And then it was a hop, skip, and a jump to him being unveiled as Soldier Boy.

“That is curious,” you murmured.

“Curious about the world’s most infamous granny fucker?” Butcher remarked. You slid him a wry look.

The fact that he tried to erase his past is interesting,” you said. “The details that aren’t here are just as important as the ones that are.”

Butcher hesitated a second, an ice-cold beer poised to his lips. He tipped it toward you in acknowledgement. “On that, we actually agree.”

“What do we know about his real life? Before he became Soldier Boy,” you asked.

Butcher sat down across from you and shaded in the details he knew, mostly about a disappointed father.

“Didn’t get enough hugs as a lad,” he surmised.

You suspected he was understating the truth. If there weren’t that many recorded accounts, pictures, or footage of Soldier Boy’s parents and home life, then he didn’t want people to know.

Interesting, you thought. Eventually Butcher got up to run down another lead that came in via text from Grace. Frenchie came back from the kitchen and saw how intently you were staring at your computer screen, eyes rapidly scanning.

“Ah,” Frenchie said, gesturing between you and the departed Butcher with a hand that held three alfajores cookies. “I see the same anal tenacity that fuels Monsieur Charcutier.”

You raised a brow. “My tenacity is for the case, not Soldier Boy.”

This wasn’t a vendetta for you. This was just business.

“For money,” M.M. correctly guessed, but his eyes held no judgment. “Been there.”

You sighed, smiling a little. Yes, you were doing this for money. They didn’t need to know anything more than that.

You liked this team well enough, but this was a job. The way you protected your family, and yourself, was by not talking about them.

That night, Frenchie’s ordered “package” arrived, courtesy of Grace. It was a healthy dose of Novichok gas—perhaps one of the only substances on Earth that could put Soldier Boy into a peaceful sleep.

Well, you didn’t know if it was peaceful, exactly. But he’d be asleep. That was all any of you cared about.

“At least it’s in proper containment this time,” M.M. said, examining the large cannister. Annie peered at it over his shoulder.

“I don’t know. My shitty perfume case seemed to hold it just fine,” she quipped.

You smiled from your usual seat at your computer. Annie came over with a sandwich for both of you. It was from the café down the street, and you’d been meaning to try it. Every time you stood out on your hotel room’s balcony, you could smell fresh bread and smoked meats coming from the café.

“Oh, yeah. How’s your sister?” Annie asked around a mouthful of sandwich. “She’s in college now, right?”

She had a good memory. Annie had heard you on the phone with your sister before you all left last month. You’d said one last goodbye, knowing it wouldn’t be safe to talk once you were locked into this mission.

While you were reluctant to answer Annie’s question, the others seemed distracted in the kitchen, fighting over who ordered chorizo and who ordered steak on their sandwich.

Still, you lowered your voice, even as a proud smile graced your lips. “She got into Julliard.”

Annie grinned and set her food down to give a little clap.

“She starts in the fall, so a few months,” you added.

“Aww, you’re glowing with pride,” Annie teased. And you laughed, but it was true. You wouldn’t hide that you were very proud of your little sister’s accomplishments.

“She’s worked hard, and she deserves it,” you said. Though your eyes dimmed. “I just wish I could help her celebrate…she’s on my case for taking this job.”

Quite simply, she worried about you. You were good at your job, but you were still human. She’d seen you come home banged up and bruised more often than you cared to admit…

Annie gave you a knowing look. “If you don’t want to be here, you don’t have to. I’m sure you can get other jobs—”

“Getting into school is just the beginning,” you said. “She’s got four years to go. Then her master’s. Hell, her doctorate if she wants.”

“There are scholarships…”

“It’s not enough,” you said with a sigh. It’s never enough.

“All right, lads,” Butcher said. He wiped his mouth with a napkin as he read off his phone. “The new Strongest Cunt in the World has been spotted. Suit up.”

“Where’re we going?” you asked, closing up your laptop.

Butcher shot you a wink. “Colombia.”

While on the private plane, you were the only one still awake as you continued to watch the archival footage with your Airpods in. Reel after motherfucking reel of Soldier Boy.

You really were starting to get sick of his smug face. He was clearly a good actor, if nothing else.

Then you came across the Russia files.

Part of you didn’t want to watch. You knew exactly what they were, and you didn’t want to see anything that would make you sympathize with him in your mind…

And yet, your father’s training was ingrained in you—like fingerprints on your skin. Like a vice grip around your throat.

Everything is relevant, always. Even if it isn’t.

…That, and maybe your own insatiable curiosity won out.

So you steeled yourself with a breath, and you hit the play button.

Gradually, your eyes widened.

You had seen awful things—as a private investigator at your father’s firm, and at Vought.

You had filled your quota of blood and death. And you had already seen the footage of Soldier Boy blasting a tower full of people in New York with the nuclear power now housed in his chest.

You also knew what he did to M.M.’s family. But after watching several minutes of Soldier Boy's torture, hearing his struggle, his outbursts of rage, the ragged gasps for breath, the clawing, traumatized sounds...

It was like stereo between your ears, and it was...too familiar. Too much.

So you finally turned it off, closing your laptop with an unsettled breath of your own.

And you were unable to sleep that night.

When you all finally arrived in Colombia, you and the team surveyed the wreckage in the casino.

It was a fucking blood bath.

As you stepped carefully through the wreckage of bodies and gambling chips, you looked for clues. Anything that might tell you about what Soldier Boy was doing here (though you could guess), and however unlikely, where he might go next.

You were disheartened to find the body of a young woman. Her big blue eyes were vacant, her blonde hair caked with blood from a head shot. On further inspection, you found a small room key in her hand.

With a sigh and a gloved hand, you took the key. You also closed the girl’s eyes.

You kept looking while the others had fanned out in the opposite direction. When you came across a small table that wasn’t turned over or splintered into fragments, you raised a brow. There was a napkin pinned to the top with a steak knife.

You yanked it out and examined the flimsy napkin. Noticing that you’d found something, Butcher came over to your side. He was much taller than you, fairly looming over your shoulder. You angled the note toward him.

Try harder.

S.B.

It was more than just a taunt.

It was the beginning of a game. And it made you smile.

“What the hell’re you smiling about?” Butcher asked.

“I like it when they’re cocky,” you replied. Butcher shot you a sideways glance, one that said you were maybe more deranged than even him.

“All supes are cocky bastards.”

You eyed him with a teasing grin. “On that, we actually agree.”

True to Grace’s word, she provided you all with the full extent of the CIA’s resources. While Butcher tracked down the hotel of the room key you found, you and M.M. were able to tap into any and all local street cameras and map out the likely points Soldier Boy had hit in this city—and where he could be going next.

According to the hotel manager, Soldier Boy had paid for a month’s stay, but hadn’t checked out after coming back for some of his belongings. The security cameras had caught him leaving his hotel room with a few men—armed ex-military types, and possibly his new entourage.

But the trail ended there.

Over the next two months, Soldier Boy continued to be one step ahead of you in the chase.

Though his movements were calculated (disappearing like a coil of smoke whenever you caught his scent), he seemed to be taking an extended vacation surrounding strip clubs, casinos, and other likely destinations for sex, drugs, and money.

And he’d evaded capture after hitting at least three banks on his way out of the U.S. alone.

At the current crap motel of the week, you shared the couch with Kimiko and Hughie while you surveyed traffic cameras.

“What’s the likelihood that he’s even still in Colombia? In South America, even?” Hughie asked. It was a good goddamn question.

“We have agents covering every major port and air hanger,” M.M. said. “If he wants to escape the continent, he’s gonna have to fight his way out, or rent a dingy and float his motherfuckin’ ass across the Atlantic.”

“I wouldn’t put anything past him,” you remarked. “What connections does he have?”

It wasn’t the first time you’d asked that question, but it was the first time you got a straightforward answer.

“Who knows,” said M.M. “He’s an ancient fuck.”

“Who killed all his old friends,” Hughie supplied.

“Well, his team, to be fair. I don’t think he ever had friends,” Annie said. “...Plus his old girlfriend.”

“What a spectacular bonfire that was,” Butcher dryly quipped.

Nice, you thought, heavy on the sarcasm.

You sighed. Clearly, you all would have to be prepared for anything.

When you weren’t pouring through surveillance, you took to the streets with Annie, playing the part of American tourists.

“Soldier Boy don’t know who the fuck you are,” Butcher had reasoned. He’d then pointed at Annie.

“Her fame as Starlight can get you two into whatever bar, club, or fuckhole that might’ve let him in. She’ll park it at a table, attracting attention. Meanwhile, you’ll circle around and look for him.”

It was actually a sound plan, and you could be a decent actor yourself. This wasn’t the first time you’d adopted a role to find your target, and on this mission, it probably wouldn’t be the last.

Well, a week later, the plan worked. You and Annie encountered a woman at a bar who waited tables at a nearby club, in Medellin. She’d served Soldier Boy just last night.

Medellin was considered the party city of Colombia, and for good reason.

Butcher had cleverly found your “disguise” for tonight, though you hadn’t liked the smirk on his bearded face when he gave you the shopping bag.

It turned out to be a semi-legal black leather dress, along with thigh-high boots possessing a sharp heel. Annie’s dress was just as short, and gold. With her blonde hair and shimmering makeup contrasting your black dress and smokey makeup, the two of you looked like night and day. Light and dark.

While Hughie manned surveillance in a rented van, parked outside the club, the rest of the team had found strategic points to cover in the club: M.M. was at the bar. Frenchie and Kimiko had found a table to watch the area in front of the stage, while Butcher was somewhere clinging to the shadows.

You followed Annie into the club. Once they’d recognized her as Starlight, they’d let her right in, and you by association. You didn’t envy her fame, but you could admit, it had some perks.

Inside, the club was dark and loud, and packed with people and streams of colorful light bouncing off the walls. This isn’t going to be easy.

Both of you scoped the area subtly before joining M.M. at the bar.

Well, you two found your own opening further down. Sitting next to him would be too obvious.

You subtly pressed a finger to the communicator in your ear while Annie ordered drinks.

“It’s gonna be hard to find my own ass in here,” you said to the team. You scanned the place and noticed an entire second and third floor. “This place is huge.”

“Then get crackin’, love,” Butcher’s voice reached you. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, but you did take the vodka martini Annie offered you.

“Ah, you beat me to it,” a man said, his richly accented voice hovering near your ear. You turned your head and had to lean back a bit. You were met with blue eyes, tan skin, and an attractive smile. The man tipped an imaginary hat, letting his shoulder-length dark hair dip into his eyes.

“Good evening, mi vida,” he said. “I was gonna buy you a drink, but I see you’ve got one. Mind if I finish my beer with you?”

Inwardly you wanted to sigh, but you gave a flirtatious smile to keep up appearances. “Sure.”

“Where are you from?” he asked, and with a more teasing smile. “I’m having a hard time placing your accent.”

You affected a giggle. “Oh, really? You mean I don’t have a massive, neon sign over my head that says, ‘American Tourist?’”

“Well, maybe not neon,” he joked. “I’m Antonio.”

“I’m Jess,” you lied, shaking his hand. He turned it over and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. Annie raised a brow behind you, but she sipped her drink.

Antonio must’ve been a local. His dark blue buttoned-down shirt, jeans, and boots were more casual than the obvious tourists with their flashing finery. And by his accent, you could guess that he was at least Latino. Colombian, most likely.

You were able to subtly dodge the question of exactly where you were from. And the two of you flirted for a few minutes while you continued to survey the people passing by, scanning the gaps between bodies.

When Antonio finally asked you to dance, you agreed. It would get you further into the club with a better excuse than walking around aimlessly. You turned to Annie.

“Catch you later?” you asked. She tossed you a wink.

“Yeah, girl. Have fun!”

You smiled and let Antonio lead you to the dance floor. You discreetly used every movement to your advantage, looking beyond your dancing partner to continue your search. If Soldier Boy was here, you would find him.

“He’s not here,” said Antonio. It actually managed to jerk you out of your focus.

“Who?” you asked, feigning confusion.

“Whoever you’re looking for that isn’t me,” he said, injecting a fair bit of charm into his voice.

You actually felt your face warming up at that. The way he was looking at you now, there was very little doubt as to what he wanted. His grip on your hips tightened.

Part of you was getting impatient with this part of the game, but at the very least, he was a good dancer. He pulled you effortlessly through the cumbia, Colombian salsa dancing, even if he was starting to sweat on you.

Now, you could almost swear someone was watching. Though it might’ve been the sweat dripping down your spine, you felt that strange prickle on the back of your neck.

Well, besides Annie. You knew she was keeping an eye on you from the bar, as were Frenchie and Kimiko as they joined a poker game in the far corner, away from the dance floor.

Your gaze continued to flit through every corner of the room between spins and the movements of your feet and your hips.

When Antonio’s hands started get a bit too familiar with the curve of your ass, you took his hands and used them to spin yourself. He brought you back in tight. A bit too tight.

“Come on, baby…” he whispered in your ear.

And you felt his hand slide up the inside of your thigh. He even had the audacity to try and slip past the lacey front of your underwear.

That’s when your patience snapped.

You grabbed his wrist and “accidentally” drove your heel into his foot. With precision you felt it land between two vertebrae.

The girlish yelp he made brought a flicker of a smile to your lips, but you covered it with a doe-eyed look and many bumbling apologies.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

He all but shoved you as he limped away, cursing you in Spanish. You’d taken four years of it in high school, and you still only caught half of it.

Hiding your smile, you walked away and pressed a discreet finger to the comm in your ear.

“The stage front is clear. Scoping the back.”

“Wait for me,” Annie said. She was still sitting at the bar. “I think you broke that guy’s foot.”

“He had tenacity,” Frenchie remarked.

“All balls and no brains, as usual,” you muttered. “Stay there and look shiny, Annie. He’s less likely to recognize me, but he might come out to play if he spots a familiar face at the bar.”

“She’s right,” Butcher said to Annie. “Stay where you are.”

You made your way to the bathroom and scoped the hall. There in the privacy of the shadows, you adjusted the gun holster on your thigh. It was a miracle Antonio hadn’t felt it.

Not that a gun would do much against Soldier Boy, but you didn’t feel right without it.

Then you kept moving and dodged various couples making out (and more) on your way upstairs.

“Going up,” you informed the team quietly. The second floor was a series of rooms, none of which you wanted to pop in on without an invitation.

After you made it to the end of the hall, you turned a corner and noticed a door hung open a crack. Sliding it open, you found a wall of music there to greet you.

And that wasn’t all.

Inside was a room of people drinking and drugging and generally doing things to one another. You didn’t want to go in, but you wouldn’t put it past Soldier Boy to get caught up in a mass orgy.

You walked through the room, only taking in what you needed to with your eyes.

Focusing on the far wall, you saw a leather chair by the window, with a still smoking cigar laid to rest in an ash tray on a small table. Your head tilting with interest, you went over to the table and found another hand-written note.

Once again, you sighed. “He’s not here, guys. He bounced.”

Once you all regrouped with Hughie outside the club, you handed the note to Butcher with a grimace.

“You have a love letter,” you said. And Hughie too.

With a wry brow raise, Butcher looked down at the scrap of paper.

Butcher, you’ll die first. Then the cum-guzzler.

S.B.

That night at the hotel, after you'd showered and peeled off that ridiculous dress, you poured over the Soldier Boy files again.

You hadn’t touched the Russia ones since that first night, but you knew you were missing far too much. In order to anticipate his moves, you needed to understand how he thought.

You couldn’t do that if you didn’t even have the full picture of who he was. And the movies, the silly music videos, even the exploded skyscraper and Homelander’s death—none of it told the full story of Ben.

It didn’t tell you what he wanted. What he cared about. Why he was playing cat and mouse instead of just taking his stand, like his soldier persona would’ve demanded of his pride.

Or maybe that pride's just like everything else: a well-crafted costume.

A knock at your door jolted you out of your thoughts.

You got up to your feet, briefly looking down to make sure you were decently dressed (you supposed pajama shorts, a bra, and a tank top would suffice). You grabbed your gun and checked the peephole before you answered the door with a smile.

It was M.M. with a mug of tea for you. “I knew you’d still be up, killin’ those files. It’s almost morning, you know.”

You accepted the mug with a warmer smile.

“Aw, you do care,” you quipped. He rolled his eyes.

You laughed a little. “Seriously, thank you.”

He pointed at you.

“Go to sleep,” he said. You raised two fingers to your temple in salute.

“Sir. Yes, sir!” you joked. Really, you appreciated his concern. After hearing many a story about his daughter Jennine, and seeing how the rest of the team respected him, you knew that he was a good man.

And thanks to him and Annie, you were actually starting to feel like part of this team.

After you wished him goodnight (or good morning, at this rate), you closed the door to your hotel room, followed closely by your laptop.

You took out your phone, silently contemplating what time it would be in New York right now.

Well, it would be very early in the morning. Still, you thought it was worth a try, since you had the time.

You dialed your sister, Luisa. While it rang, you remembered just how thin these hotel walls were. So you stepped out to the rickety balcony. Jeez, hope it holds my weight throughout this call.

When your sister eventually answered, she murmured your name sleepily in confusion.

“Hey, sorry for waking you up,” you said, feeling bad.

“It’s okay.” She yawned. “I should be up soon anyway. Got 8 am classes Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.”

“Ech. Screw that shit,” you teased.

“You’re the one sweating balls in South America.”

“I’d rather be drowning in my own sweat than listening to some old bag drone on for eight hours,” you volleyed back, and leaned against the balcony’s railing, even as it creaked suspiciously with your weight.

“You, my friend, are uninspired. You mean to tell me mosquitoes and drug cartels are better than Mozart?” your sister asked incredulously. Her sleepy voice was starting to lose some of its gravel as you two fell into familiar bickering.

“Wow, way to type cast. Not all of South America is about drug-running,” you pointed out.

“Aren’t there, like, entire shows about people shoving cocaine up their ass to get from Colombia to Miami?” Luisa asked.

“…Yes, but that’s not the point,” you said with a giggle. “And good guess. I’m actually in Medellin right now.”

“Are you supposed to tell me that?”

“Not really, no, but I don’t think you’ll sell me out to the cartels,” you joked. Or to the Russians, your mind added. That thought made your lips twist sourly.

“Anyway, are you okay? How’s school, really?”

“It’s good, sis. You know I’m good. I’m worried about you,” she countered, and you could hear the concern in her voice.

“You know me. I’m always good,” you replied with good humor. The silence on the other line told you that you hadn’t been quite convincing enough.

“When do you think you’ll come home?” she asked.

For what seemed like the hundredth time that night (or morning), you sighed. “That’s hard to say.”

The answering silence told you even more about your sister’s thoughts, and you felt guilty for it.

“I’m happy just knowing you’re doing so well. With school, starting your adult life, doing your thing,” you added.

“You need to start thinking about yourself,” she told you.

“What do you mean, Lou? I’m fine.”

It was Louisa’s turn to sigh.

“You know, I was so proud of you when you decided to leave Vought," she said. "When you finally got out from under Dad. When you started working at Supe Affairs…you seemed happy, like you were finally proud of yourself too.”

Emotion started to burn behind your eyes. Part of it was probably sleep deprivation, but you heard the sincerity in your sister’s voice.

She just knew you so well. And she wasn’t lying there—what she’d said was all true of you. However, after the joke that was Victoria Neuman running Supe Affairs, you didn’t know what you could trust anymore.

Maybe not even your own judgment.

“But I really wish that you’d consider more than just your work,” Luisa said. “Like a hobby. Take a painting class. Go to karaoke, like we used to do in grade school after Choir practice. You have such a beautiful voice! Like Grandma’s was.”

“I’ll leave the performing to you, Lou,” you said with a chuckle. She was serious, however.

“Work isn’t everything,” she reminded you. Now her voice was firm. “You should go out with your friends. Go out with Annie! Rub shoulders with her celebrity friends.”

“Right.” You huffed a laugh. You’d been around plenty of famous supes while at Vought. You’d ran down the leads and tracked down the criminals, just for the supes to swoop in and “save the day.” You did the grunt work, and they claimed the credit.

You’d had enough of “celebrities” to last you a lifetime.

“Maybe then you’ll—and let me not shock you here—meet someone,” Louisa said. “And finally put an end to that goddamn dry spell. What's it been, like three years?”

“All right, all right.” You held up a hand of surrender, even if she couldn’t see it. You were grateful she couldn’t catch you blushing. “That’s enough about my non-life, thanks.”

You shook your head. Embarrassment actually clawed inside your belly.

Yes, it had been a while since you’d actually been with anyone, relationship or otherwise. You just didn’t have time to have a life, you’d reasoned. Working at Vought had been grueling, and your hours at the S.A., while better, were still demanding.

…Still, you could appreciate that your work-life balance left much to be desired. And that was on you.

Case in point, you were on this job.

You tipped your face heavenward, letting the sunrise spill some warmth on your face.

“But…I hear you, okay?” you replied with your eyes closed.

“You do?” she asked suspiciously.

“Yeah. When I get back, I…I’ll work on it, okay?” you said. “I love you.”

“Love you too, sis. I should probably get going, but…please be safe.”

“Always,” you promised.

After you hung up, you finally opened your eyes.

That prickly feeling was back, almost like you were being watched.

You scanned around, but your human eyes didn’t find anything out of the ordinary in the sunshine pouring in between the rows of buildings.

In fact, you didn’t see a damn thing that wasn’t supposed to be there.

So you clutched your phone to your chest, letting out a deep breath. Then you headed back inside.

But mere feet above you, if you had only looked up to the roof, you would’ve seen a hunter lazily eyeing his prey.

AN: Ok! So a little bit slow in this chapter, but it’s all important setup.

In the next chapter, the reader meets Soldier Boy:

You laid a hand on his chest, fingers spreading between the open buttons, and felt his warm skin.

He glanced up at you with another challenging tilt to his head. What are you gonna do now?

You met that challenge, boldly leaning down to press a kiss against his lips.

Keep Reading: PART 2

Series Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @pallographsunspot @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @syrma-sensei @muhahaha303 @123passwort @xoxovienna @magnificentnightmarehadi @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @yvonneeeee @fckinel

545 notes · View notes

loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 6 months

Text

The Babysitter (22)

I've Got You Detka

MILF Wanda Maximoff X Reader 18+

Summary: In need of money and a way to escape the problems at home, you get a job babysitting two lovely boys named Billy and Tommy Maximoff. What happens when you start to feel things you shouldn't for their mother? Will it bloom into love or leave you heartbroken?

A/N- I would just like to say that there will be some sensitive issues in this story such as alcoholism, homophobia, anxiety as well as more mature content such as smut so, if you continue to read this, please consider this warning.

The Babysitter Master list | General Master List

Chapter 22- W/c 4.6k

Tag list- @natsluttt @cerberus-spectre @dorabledewdroop @bibliophilicbi @hopelesslyfallenninlove @simpform1lfs @get-the-fuck-outta-here @natashaswife4125 @marvelwomen-simp @supercorpstan97 @aliherreraaa @aru-son (Comment if you want to be added)

I've Got You Detka

Warnings: Teenage party (eg underaged drinking etc), Homophobic language and slurs, Character death, talks of grief, brief talks of self hate and implied internalised homophobia

—

Wanda's face softened when she saw her children running in, grins plastered on their faces as they somehow managed to keep all the popcorn in the bowls while rushing to sit. Her eyes contained an enamoured glint as Tommy rushed over to her, moving to press his body into her side while keeping the warm bowl of the treat in his lap, sharing some with Wanda before her gaze moved over to you.

She knew that her boys were very affectionate people, always loving contact with her but she found it adoring that they craved the same contact with you, always trying to hug you in some way after finding out about the two of you all those weeks ago. What made her heart melt was how much Billy seemed to like to hug you, his body moving to rest in between yours as you sat on the sofa, letting his body slide against yours so his back was flush against your front, him also sharing the tasty food with you. The content expression on the older woman's face faltered when she saw your eyes, the usual happiness not surfacing in them, instead a distracted and crestfallen look.

You had been quieter the last few days, Wanda accepting your comments of just being 'tired' but now she was starting to get concerned as you zoned out in your spiral of thoughts.

Throughout the film, the event being a new tradition between the four of you on a Saturday night, her eyes wandered over to your form on the other sofa, trying to gauge whether you were lost in thought or back to reality. You seemed to come back a few times, only briefly to wrap your arms around Billy or take a piece of popcorn before drifting off again, a small frown forming on the other woman's face.

Had she said something recently? Were you uncomfortable with the twins knowing? Did something happen at college?

Swarms of questions filled her mind as the film continued to play, eventually coming to an end and the twins ready for bed, their bodies becoming exhausted after the long day of fun. Wanda helped them to bed as you went off to her room quietly, the Sokovian determined to quickly tuck the twins in so she could check on you.

Her heart broke when she heard a sob erupt from the back of your throat when she walked in, rushing over to your form on the edge of the bed.

"Detka," she cooed in the softest tone she could, kneeling by the end of the bed while one of her hands went to your knee to give a comforting squeeze, the other brushing your hair out of your face. "What's wrong Moya Lyubov?"

Her gentle tone and soothing actions don't stop the tears spilling down your cheeks, another harsh sob being forced out of you as Wanda moves to stand, letting you bury your face against her stomach as your arms wrap around her body, desperately trying to keep her as close as possible. Her fingers delicately scratched at your scalp, murmurs of loving words falling from her lips as your cries gradually quietened, your grip never ceasing on her.

"I miss him," you croak out hoarsely, the words slightly muffled as you didn't move your face from where it was pressed against her. "I miss him so much," Wanda's brows furrow, unsure of who you were referring to.

"Miss who, Detka?" she cautiously asks, not wanting to further upset you. You slowly move your face away from her, wiping your wet cheeks before looking up at her with a heartbroken expression etched onto your face.

"My dad," you whisper and Wanda can feel her heart clench at the amount of pain you must be feeling, wrapping her arms around your body and moving you both around until you are practically sitting sideways in her lap. Tomorrow was the anniversary of his death and everything just seemed to hit you at once, body melting against her comforting embrace.

"Oh Detka," she coos over and over again, your face burying at the crook of her neck as she lets her hands rub slow, soothing circles against your back. "I've got you," she presses a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering there as she can feel tears brewing in her own ears.

She can't imagine losing one of her parents so young, the idea of losing them now terrifying her. She couldn't imagine the agonising pain in your heart, especially as she knew there was something about your father's death that troubled you even more than expected.

When you seem to calm a little, Wanda tentatively speaks up,

"Do you want to talk about him?" you pull away from her neck at her words, Wanda fearing that you would resent the idea.

"He was amazing," your tone is barely audible, Wanda's hand cupping your jaw as you lean into her touch, eyes fluttering close as a tear spills from your eyes. "I loved him so much and he didn't deserve to die," there's a bitterness to your voice, eyes opening and meeting concerned green, hurt swirling in your eyes. "It's my fault he's dead."

"Detka," Wanda's voice cracks at how small you seem, her hand keeping your face level with hers, your eyes still looking into hers, "You can't blame yourself."

"But it's my fault," desperation and pain laces your tone, "If I was good- If I had listened and been- Been normal, none of it would have happened."

"Dorogaya," she lets you turn your face away, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks. She wants to tell you that it's not your fault, that you aren't to blame but she doesn't know what occurred, "What happened?"

You turn back to look at her, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. When you see the pure love and care in her eyes, you push past through the nerves and anxiety, needing to get it off your chest.

***

2 years ago

Glass rattled in your bag as you shot Natasha a sheepish look, the bottles of alcohol bumping against each other in your bag as you walked into the Bishop's residence, the music and sound of teenagers drowning out the noise. By the time you two had arrived, the party was in full swing, drunk teenagers already messing about in the living room, many dancing to the blaring music as you squeezed your way through the rooms until you made it to the kitchen.

"I wonder where Kate is," you say while placing all the drinks you had brought onto the marble top, Natasha already pouring you and herself a drink. At your words, her lips tugged up into a knowing smirk, your brow raising at your best friend's smug and mischievous expression. "What?" your tone confused as you took the drink from her, playing the words off as if you were interested in where the host of the party was before taking a large sip, throat burning at whatever concoction she had made, her tolerance to alcohol far better than yours as she drank almost half of the red cup.

"Nothing," she chuckles out, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and single handedly pouring more alcohol into her cup, guiding you through the large house that belonged to the girl you were searching for, "It's just when you and Kate are together, something always seems to happen."

"Like what?" you say innocently, a smile taking over your face as you know what she's referring to, her laugh just about audible as the music becomes louder as you enter the main room where everyone was.

"Don't you remember what you did to Mr Fury's house?" your shoulders shrug nonchalantly at her words, another chuckle escaping the redhead as she shakes her head at your antics, emerald eyes spotting someone, "Speaking of the devil."

"Hey Y/n, Nat," Kate greets, her eyes peering over the rim of her glass as she looks at you with a tender gaze, her eyes flickering over to Natasha who has a playful expression written on her face. Natasha turns her gaze to you, your teeth nervously biting on your lip as you stare at the other girl, eyes devouring her outfit.

"Well, I'll leave you two lovebirds to it," the redhead teases, your mouth dropping as your friend reveals that she knows about you and Kate, your girlfriend chuckling as she sips her drink again. "I need to find Clint anyway, he owes me a tenner," she grumbles, giving you a wink as she walks bast the brunette, pausing when Kate couldn't see her and turning back to you, making a lewd gesture with her fingers and tongue making your cheeks flush a dark shade of red.

"How about we get out of here?" she murmurs in your ear, her body practically pressed up against you as everyone else was too busy in their own worlds, not noticing either of you. Your body heats up at the close proximity, an excited but also nervous feeling throughout you at her suggestive tone, your head nodding slowly. Her hand encases yours, gently dragging you away from the thriving party, the buzz from whatever drink Natasha made starting to increase your confidence as you walked through the Bishop residence.

Laughter spilt from your lip as you made it to the third floor of her ridiculously large house, Kate muttering nonsense into your ears that caused you to chuckle. Her hand had drifted to your waist as she walked you through the long corridor, this area out of bounds for those in the party.

"Where are we going I wonder?" you mutter playfully in a faux oblivious tone, leading the way to her room as she smiles at you, opening her door before closing it and pressing you up against it.

"Where do you want to go?" She rasps out while pressing a slow and sensual kiss to your lips, hands trailing lower to your hips as she presses her body further into yours, a soft moan escaping you. Her mouth peppers kisses along your jaw, the feeling of her lips sending waves of arousal through you, especially when her lips meet your neck. The hot open mouthed kiss she places at the juncture of your neck has your head lolling back against the door, a low groan tumbling out of your lips.

"The bed, please," you sigh out, threading your fingers through her soft locks and pulling her away from your neck. She smiles up at you, claiming your lips once more while moving backwards towards her bed, falling back onto it when the back of her legs hit the frame of it. Your body naturally moves to straddle her waist, her hands gently resting on your hips as your forehead pressed against hers, both of you smiling into the soft and passionate kiss.

"There's something I want to tell you," she whispers, breaking apart the hungry and messy kiss, your hands drifting across her shoulders before settling on loosely wrapping around her neck. You look at her in curiosity as she peers up at you with lust filled eyes, the blue almost completely replaced by desire. "I know this isn't the most romantic time to say it, but I can't keep it in any longer," her hand delicately cups your cheek, her thumb caressing your cheek while her other hand tucks a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, a tender and gentle smile playing on her lips. "I love you," her tone is nothing but genuine, soft, and enamoured, your mouth stretching into a wide smile at her confession, lips crashing back down to hers.

Kate Bishop was one of the only people to know the real you, who was there for you when you needed someone. She was everything to you and to hear her say that, you were lost for words, well, almost.

"I love you too," you murmur back in between heated, emotional kisses, needing her to know how much you appreciated her, how much you cared for her. "I love you so much," your tone raw as you confessed, her forehead resting against yours as she kisses turned slower, softer, the touches becoming more intimate than lust driven.

When you both pulled back, the only sound was the low hum of the music downstairs mixing with your heavy breaths, gazing into each other's eyes, unable to wipe the smiles engraved on your faces.

Your lips met once more, powerless in stopping the urge to feel her mouth against yours, tongue sliding in your mouth as both of your touches turned bolder, your hands lowering to the hem of her shirt.

Your eyes met hers hesitantly, not having done anything more than a heated make out session before, the silent question being answered when she pulled the item over her head.

"You're so beautiful," your tone low as you pressed your mouth back to hers, addictive to her soft and plump lips. You can feel her smile into the kiss at the words that left your lips, her mouth opening when the door of the room swung open, a gasp leaving you both at who it was.

Due to your distracted states, neither of you noticed how the music downstairs stopped or how your phone was spammed by calls and messages from Natasha trying to notify you of who had shown up.

Eleanor Bishop's eyes glossed over with rage, danger evident on her face as her eyes took in the sigh of you on top of her daughter, lips stained by her lipstick.

"What the fuck is going on?" She grits out, the normally composed woman dissipating at the sight of her daughter being with a girl, the idea unfathomable to her.

"Mom-" Kate tries, your body moving off her lap nervously as the brunette slips her shirt back on, your fingers trembling as fear ran through you at what was about to happen.

"No," her tone is harsh as she snaps at her daughter, Kate visibly cowering at her mother's powerful voice. "Get out Kate, I need a word with Y/n," she orders, your face paling as she wants to speak to you, Kate snapping her head over to you with a fearful look.

"Mom no-"

"I said get out, I will speak to you when I'm finished," Kate opens and closes her mouth, turning back to look at you with an apologetic glint in her eyes. The brunette reluctantly leaves you, offering you the best reassuring smile she could manage. as she left the room, hovering by the door to hear whatever abuse her mother was about to scream at you, ready to step in.

"Mrs Bishop I-"

"What do you think you are doing?" Her voice sends a shiver down your spine, your eyes unable to meet hers, "Corrupting my daughter into some- some whore like you." Your jaw clenches as you can feel tears starting to brew in your eyes, hurt washing throughout you. "My daughter isn't a dyke and never will be," she screams, and screams, and screams more vile words at you, your mind blocking them out as she hurls slur after slur, your mind only registering the end of her rant. "Stay away from her," despite all the horrific things that had left the older woman's lips, that hurt the most as you loved Kate. You felt safe with her, felt at home with her, and now that was all going to be destroyed.

"I'm sorry," your voice was barely above a whisper as you met her enraged stare, a scoff leaving her lips as she turned away from you, slipping her phone out of her pocket when you tried to move.

"No, stay there," her tone leaving no room for any debate, "I want your mother to know what a disgusting slut she's raised." After the words leave her lips, your mind becomes a blur, dread overruling your body as you know exactly how your mother is going to react.

You don't look up when Eleanor opens the door, not meeting Kate's sorrowful gaze before the door slams shut, leaving you to drown in your anxiety and thoughts. You move on autopilot when your mother drags you out of their house, her face red with anger when she looks at you, a disgusted expression engraved on her face when she finds out what you 'are'.

The car ride home was filled with a deafening silence, your mother refusing to speak to you without your father, assuming he would be on her side.

Your father looks up from his book, legs casually laid across the sofa when the front door of your house slams shut, swinging his legs over the edge, a smile playing on his lips which quickly falters at his wife's venomous stare and your despondent expression.

"What happened?" His voice drips with concern, his book being carelessly discarded onto the cushion as he stands up, making his way over to you when your mother speaks up, halting his movements.

"Don't comfort her," she snaps, your gaze lowering to the ground as you don't want to see his disappointed stare when he finds out.

Confusion is evident on his face at the harsh tone used, her walking away from you and towards the kitchen, opening a bottle of wine and pouring herself a large glass.

"I was called by Eleanor Bishop earlier," she explains, your father listening intently, "Saying a party had occurred at her house, our lovely daughter being present." He looks back at you, a little annoyed at the fact you didn't tell him that you were going to a party, that being one of the deals you had made as you reached your teenage years. He knew what it was like to be young, wanting you to be able to enjoy it but also to be safe.

"She went to a party without telling us?" The confusion is still present in his tone, not sure as to why his wife was blowing up over this, knowing they could deal with this in a calmer manner.

She hums in response while taking a large sip of her drink, continuing with the story.

"Yes, but it gets worse because Eleanor walked in on something." His face pales a little, not able to imagine you, his precious little girl doing something like that. "She had her tongue down the Bishop's girl's throat," your mother grits out in distaste, your body frozen in place as you could hear them from the hallway you were in.

"What?" Your father is about to continue but your mother cuts him off abruptly.

"She knows that's unacceptable," her tone dripping with anger at your actions. "It's wrong, she can't be one of them."

Your father says your mother's name in an unsure tone, the woman scoffing at the expression on his face. He ignores her mumbling under her breath, leaving to console your still figure in the hallway, eyes fixated on the floor.

"Hey sweetheart," he forces a smile onto his face, his hands going to your shoulders and giving you a reassuring squeeze, "Let's go to your room, ok? Let's let your mother calm down a bit." You trudge your way up towards your room, your father closing the door behind as you sit on the bed, a single tear spilling down your cheek as you desperately try to keep it together.

"Please don't hate me," your voice breaking with the amount of emotion you say it with, your father sitting on the bed, wrapping his arm around you protectively.

"Shhh, I'll never hate you, you're my little girl," he softly says. "I'm a little annoyed you didn't tell me about the party but I'm not mad at you." He squeezes you closer to him, your head tilting to look at him. He offers you a comforting smile, his eyes containing nothing but care as you feel more tears spill. "Hey," he coos, brushing away a few of the tear drops that lingered on your skin, "It's ok."

"It's not," you croak out, "Mum she's- she's never going to let me see her again. I can't lose her." His eyes widen at the heartbroken look in your eyes, realisation washing over him as he gathers that you like Kate more than he first anticipated, assuming you were just trying new things out.

"I'll talk to your mother, alright? I know she has her... traditional views but she loves you, and so do I."

"She hates me," you mutter, "She thinks I'm a freak, I know she does."

"I'll talk to her," is all he can offer in response to that, not too sure on how he could get her to see your side of it. "I'll always support you Y/n, you know that right? I'm always going to be here to protect and support you." He moves his hand to interlock with yours, letting you play with his fingers as he knew it was a nervous habit of yours. "I just want you to be happy, and if that means you're with a girl or a boy, or even no one, I don't care. Your happiness comes first, always."

"I love her," you whisper, your father sympathetically smiling softly at your words.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs while pressing a kiss to the side of your head, lingering as he thinks of what else to say. He's interrupted when his name is called from downstairs, your mother becoming impatient. "I'll be back in a little bit, ok?" You nod hesitantly at his words, not wanting him to leave you. "I love you," he whispers before standing with a sigh, not ready for the argument that was about to happen.

Drowning out the screaming from downstairs, you bury your face into your pillow, quietly crying into the soft fabric. You want to scream, scream as much as you possibly can't but all that leaves your lips are small whimpers, your eyes becoming sore with how relentless the tears were.

A loud noise can be heard downstairs, catching your attention, making you turn your head to face your door, listening for anything else.

"If she wants to be like that, then she's not my daughter anymore," is the last thing you can hear before loud footsteps approach the door, your father slipping back into the room, body tense and jaw clenched. His stare that was filled with anger directed towards your mother softens when he sees your body cuddling against your pillow, tear stained cheeks and red puffy eyes.

"I'll be back in a little bit, alright sweetheart? I'm going for a little drive," His tone tries to be gentle but you can still hear the frustration evident in his tone.

"Please don't go," you mutter, eyes pleading with him to stay while he moves to sit on the edge of the bed next to you.

"I won't be long, I just need to clear my head and calm down," you know why he doesn't want to stay, fearing he'll grow too angry and have another outburst, not wanting you to see him when he can get angry. "I don't want to do anything I would regret," he whispers, placing a soft kiss against the side of your head before attempting to leave, your hand reaching out for his as you stand to crash your body into his.

"Thank you," your tone is so quiet that he only heard the two words as you were so close to him, his arms wrapping around you protectively and comfortingly.

"I'll be right back," he reassures. "Don't let your mother in your room, lock the door and wait until I get back, I don't want her near you at the moment," he says and you nod your head against him, dread filling you as his body slips away and out of the door, your hands going to lock the door as he said, body collapsing back onto the bed.

You pushed away the gnawing feeling inside you, the anxiety that bubbled inside you as an hour passed, then two hours passed, and then three, your father still not returning home.

***

"I got a phone call after four hours," Wanda's arms pulled you impossibly closer, trying to comfort you in any way possible, "A drunk driver ran a red light, going twenty mph over the speed limit and hit the side of his car."

You remember the physical pain of your heart breaking when listening to the phone call, your mind going numb as he was dead and there was nothing you could do about it.

"He was dead before I could even get to the hospital," your voice wavers, the memory of trying to hold it together in the hospital as they delivered the news, the sympathetic expression on the doctor's face as he watched your world fall apart.

"Detka, look at me," Wanda speaks up after letting the room sit in silence for a couple of moments, her fingers softly guiding your face to look at hers. "This wasn't your fault."

"Wanda-"

"No, Dorogaya listen to me," her tone is gentle but commanding, stopping you from arguing back, "You weren't the driver in the car, were you?" Your head shakes at that, "Then you didn't kill him, it wasn't your fault. It was the drunk idiot who decided to get in his car when he clearly shouldn't have."

"But if it wasn't for me being..." you pause on your words, not wanting to elaborate, "He wouldn't have gotten in the car."

"He got in the car because he was angry with your mother, not you. You can't blame yourself for this Detka, it's unhealthy. It was an accident, there was nothing you could have done to stop it." Her words soothe you, helping you to ignore the words that your mother said to you after the crash, how she blamed you for his death and made you feel worthless.

You press your lips to hers softly, needing to feel her close as you try and get a grip of your emotions. When you meet her lips it's like your mind slows, allowing you to not be overwhelmed by the drowning distressing emotions. Your mind fills with her, just her.

You part from the heartfelt kiss, leaning your forehead against hers as you listen to more comforting phrases fall from her lips, her arms wrapping further around your body and moving the two of you into a lying position. Your face naturally buries into her chest, listening to the steady beating of her heart, focussing on that as you completely calm yourself down.

"I want to see him tomorrow," you murmur into her shirt, refusing to meet her eyes as you ask her, "It's the anniversary and I can't- Please could you come with me?" You're a little nervous as you ask her, scared she wouldn't want to come to the cemetery with you. If you were being honest, you needed her there, too afraid to do it on your own.

"Of course Moya Lyubov, I'll be there for you," she coos, letting her fingers return to your hair, scratching at your scalp as you snake your arms around her body, nuzzling further into her body. "I'll always be there for you," she whispers, voice raw with sincerity, while she lets her hands roam your skin comfortingly, slowly lulling you to sleep as the exhaustion of being overwhelmed catches up on you. Just as you're drifting off, she whispers one last thing, "I love you Detka."

169 notes · View notes

jogetsobsessed · 8 months

Text

The Old Bracelet - Paul Lahote

Part 2, to Friendship bracelets!

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

The truck was silent as it raced through the winding country roads, out of the reservation, heading towards Forks.

Paul's hand which was not resting atop the steering wheel sat on your leg, with a firm grip on your thigh. His fingers softly rub the silky fabric of the plum-colored dress that fits you like a glove.

You hummed at his touch but did not go any louder. Basking in the rare moment of silence

He continued to drive, a look of reluctance on his face as he made the familiar turns, eventually turning onto the familiar driveway that was covered with the shade of the hanging overgrowth of the forest.

Scoffing at the sight of the various decorations that covered the front of the house, and the makeshift pathway leading towards the backyard, you scoffed back at him lightly swatting his hand away.

You knew that you should be grateful he even came, he didn't want to be here and you know it. I mean hell, you didn't even want to be here.

But you had an obligation to be, Bella was your only sibling and your parents weren't going to accept the excuse that your boyfriend technically wasn't allowed at Cullen's house and he wasn't going to let you out of his sight there either.

“You head out back, get us seats with Sam and Seth. I’m gonna go upstairs and check on the bride”. Paul started to whine like a little kid but as soon as you cocked your eyebrow and narrowed your eyes he turned around in a huff and started off to find his pack in the sea of people.

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

The ceremony was brief, but even the coldest of hearts could admit it was beautiful. A few tears had escaped when you saw how breathtaking your sister looked in the white gown that Alice had done a wonderful job with when she picked it out.

You could tell Paul felt uncomfortable the whole time, the way that his left hand kept reaching across his body to where his right hand sat on your leg clasped against yours. His free hand would lightly twist and tug at the worn, slightly tattered bracelet that sat snug on his wrist.

Now you sat at a table that was decorated to the nines with gorgeous arrangements of carnations and baby's breath, their natural perfumes slightly masking the natural musk the woods provided. Sam and Emily were to your left while Seth, Sue, and Billy were to Paul's right.

It felt right sitting at this table. Your mother and father had initially expected you to sit with them, but luckily the Cullens had planned ahead, knowing that it was best for the wedding if you sat with your imprint.

Emily and you were admiring the cake from where you sat, lost in your own conversation until Paul's sudden grip on your waist brought your attention to him.

“What is wrong with you”, you whispered in a hushed tone.

“They invited some”, his ominous tone that he had made you want to smack him for being so dramatic. Rolling your eyes you followed to where his gaze was landing.

Five individuals, with the most alluring eyes.

Ones that you knew all too well thanks to the family your sister was marrying into.

“Jesus Paul, I mean come on. What did you think? Vampires weren't going to have vampire friends. I can't believe you sometimes”.

“I think we should leave Y/N”, he was pleading while maintaining his glare toward the mystery vampires.

“I think we should stay Paul”, You turned slightly in your seat turning your attention back to Emily and the cake. The two of you share a laugh at Paul’s expense.

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

“I liked the decorations”, you said, shouting slightly so he could hear you in the bedroom.

'I thought they were too much, too much fluff’, Paul argued as he sulked back into the living room, having ditched his tux replacing them with sweats.

The couch sunk under his weight as he crawled up towards where you lay.

“Don't be such a guy Paul. Sometimes frills and fluff are nice. Especially on a wedding day”.

“I'm just saying. When we get married, less flowers, more greenery”.

You didn't know what to be more shocked about. The fact that Paul just talked about your future wedding or if he thought about greenery.

It really hadn't occurred to you that you could get married soon.

You had just just begun your senior year of high school and were really just going through the motions, school was never your favorite. Especially now when all you wanted to do was be in Paul's presence.

But you don't have plans for after graduation, originally you had thought about moving back to Arizona and attending school there. But now that was off the table.

Marriage though still didn't cross your mind.

But you guessed it made sense, I mean the imprint bond would keep you and Paul together forever, and your relationship had been romantic from the beginning.

“Our wedding huh”, you teased.

You could feel the slight embarrassment hit his body by the sudden increase in his already high body temperature. He started to speak but word vomit was all that came out. A laugh left your lips and soon enough he was laughing too.

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

“I don't think this was the right choice”, you muttered to yourself, yanking the sparkly pink dress down. Trying to distract yourself from how much you hated the dress you were wearing you fluffed your hair and swiped at your makeup.

But you knew you couldn't hide upstairs forever.

Strapping on your shoes and taking one final look at the mirror you started your way downstairs.

The walk felt like it was miles long, even though you knew the sixteen wooden steps by heart. The chattering of the voices silenced as soon as the clacking of your heels could be heard against the wooden steps.

Your gaze was trained at your feet, partially so you didn't fall but also because you didn't bear to meet the burning gazes of the pack.

However, when your foot stepped off the final step and you were officially on the first floor of Emily’s residence you knew you had to face the peanut gallery.

“Nobody says a word”, you threatened.

Finally lifting your head to meet their gazes you felt your anxiety only grow.

None of them were very subtle, their eyes widening at the sight of you in the short tight dress. Normally you would have focused on the gawking looks but none of that mattered.

Because Paul stood across the kitchen leaning against the door frame.

He was wearing the same suit that he wore to Bella and Edward's wedding, except this time a blush pink collared shirt was undead. A boutonniere of pink and orange flowers was pinned snuggly against his suit jacket.

Originally you had been against the color combination but Paul had been insistent on it.

“You look so beautiful my darling”, his voice was soft, as were his touches. His hands found their way toward the small of your back, running his fingers across the outwardly scratchy fabric. Coating the arms of his suit jacket in glitter.

His arms slid up your sides as he continued to take you in. You couldn't help but smile when the arms of this jacket shrugged up his arms a little, his wrists being on display.

That's when you put it together, why he picked the color scheme that he did.

His bracelet was barely holding on, after he had it for nearly a year, retying it when it fell off after he phased it had definitely seen better days.

But he still wore it, every chance he got.

---------

You wouldn't find out until years later how much it meant to him.

It would be a late night, both of you exhausted flopping into bed ready to crash.

Your five-year-old had his first day of kindergarten and your three-year-old had started pre-school. Plus it didn't help you that you were eight months pregnant. The day had been chaotic and emotional and you felt drained.

Slowly you pushed yourself up the bed so you could lean against the headboard. Paul took a second and then slowly he crawled up the bed too, stopping at your swollen stomach.

He had done this with your first two pregnancies.

Every night, I want to spend intimate moments close to your belly. You had caught him at night when he thought you were asleep talking to your stomach, but you never brought it up.

His calloused hands caressed your belly, the tattered orange and pink bracelet ticking your stretched skin.

“Why do you still wear it after all these years?”, your tone was soft, on the verge of sleep.

“Because it reminds me of the first best day of my life”. His tone matched yours, half asleep but full of love.

“What”, you softly laughed, as you worked your fingers through the loose knots in his hair.

“The day that you told me you were going to make this, that was our first time meeting. It's when I not only imprinted but I realized I had met the woman that I love”.

#edward cullen #fanfic #imprint #paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #twilight #x reader #sam uley #fem reader #seth clearwater #jogetsobsessed

290 notes · View notes

reasonsmandy · 5 months

Text

Anytime Soon

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by anon — Could you do prompt 22 “You're mine, all mine... But not in a possessive way, dammit, that sounded like an asshole, right? I was trying to be cute. Nevermind” where the reader says it to Eddie Roundtree?

✧.* summary — The band was growing, and with that, strategies on how to maintain this fame and use it to the band's advantage came. Which, unfortunately, became a hindrance to their relationship.

✧.* warnings — none

✧.* word count — 1.9k

✧.* 🎸 — Eddie's masterlist

You hear a loud noise coming from downstairs, which makes you jump in fright and as soon as you pull yourself together, you run after what had caused it. As soon as you enter the kitchen, the image of Warren standing on the chair hugging a plate, avoiding Eddie for some unapparent reason.

“Get away from me!” Rojas protests, still protecting his plate from the bassist.

“Cami said it was one for each, give me my egg now!” He jumps to try to reach it, but he can't.

“What the fuck is going on here?” You say rubbing your eyes, trying to escape sleep.

“He lost the bet and now he doesn’t want to accept it” Warren says, adjusting the sleep shorts he was still wearing.

“Today of all days do you want to collect this bet? Seriously?” He rolls his eyes so hard you swear they could go through his skull.

You are intrigued by the statement, but decide to break up the fight before asking.

“Warren, can’t you bet on something other than food?” Tired, you say between a yawn.

“But I really like Cami’s special eggs.” He protests, almost like a sulking child.

“I’ll make a point of asking her for extra tomorrow, okay?” You help Roundtree who thanks you with a look.

Rojas jumps out of his chair, and you're shocked at how he can balance his food in one hand. He hands you the plate.

“Fine.” He sits on the chair he was previously standing on, and watches you, waiting. “But you cut it, to be fair! He always takes the biggest one.”

After calming down the drummer, he leaves towards the balcony to eat, leaving you and the bassist alone with just the sound of the wind between you. He cracks a smile, clearly happy to see you, to be with you.

“How was your night?” He says getting closer, you roll your eyes playfully, knowing that he was teasing you.

“Perfect, and you know it.” You say, getting closer to him, kissing his lips tenderly.

“Glad to know that…” He says, still close to you, which tempts you to kiss him again.

You sit together at the small table, watching each other and chatting idly. One of his hands caressed yours on the table, while the other held the spoon he used to eat his eggs.

“So what happens today?” You ask curiously, drawing inanimate things on his hand with your fingers.

“What do you mean?" He returns the question, in fact, lost.

“You told Warren ‘today of all days’” You mention what you remember from the phrase, observing the window.

“Oh that.” He seems to understand now, pausing to chew and then answer you. “Today a woman from the record company came to see us here at home, I think she's going to take care of our marketing... Something like that” He says shrugging.

“Do you mind that Cami and I are here?” You ask in a velvety voice.

“Of course not, pretty girl.” He says kissing your forehead, getting up to wash the dishes.

You go to him and wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head on his back, enjoying his presence and from time to time kissing his shoulder. When he finishes, he turns to face you, kissing you and holding your hands on your face, you feel his skin cold from the water.

“I need to go get ready” he says between kisses on your lips.

“I’ll see you when I’m free?” you ask, leaning your body against the doorframe.

“For sure.” He winks at you, turning to access the balcony when he shouts: “Hey Warren! Let's go.”

…

Eddie and the rest had been gathered in the living room in advance by Billy, everyone was talking waiting for the woman sent by the record company, you and Cami took advantage of the delay to spend more time with everyone. You sat on the arm of the couch, one of Roundtree's arms wrapping around your waist as the doorbell rang in every ear in the place.

“I’m on it!” Graham jumps up, heading to the door to receive the visitor. “Hey” He greets her.

“Hello Graham.” She says asking for permission to come in, he gives her space.

As the door swung open, Valentina entered with an air of authority. A strand of raven hair fell perfectly out of place, framing a face adorned with subtle yet commanding features. Behind her glasses, her piercing gaze assessed the room, exuding a sense of unwavering control. Every step resonated confidence, and her polished heels echoed a rhythm that seemed to march to the beat of her own rules. The clash between her poised elegance and the band's laid-back atmosphere hung palpably in the air as she crossed the threshold into their world.

She feels tension when she enters, but instead of feeling uncomfortable she feels powerful. You lightly squeeze Eddie's shoulder, saying silently that you would leave so as not to disturb the meeting, then you and Camila head to the kitchen.

“So Val, what have you got ready?” Billy asks, looking not so friendly.

“Don’t call me that, uh- I have some things to pass on to you.” She takes some papers out of the briefcase she had with her, causing curiosity.

Warren leaned over, getting in front of Graham so he could see what she was showing, repeating a push from the younger Dunne to get him to quiet down.

Little by little the small fight grows, and Eddie - who also shared a sofa with the two, pushes them both with the strength he had, little by little everything becomes alarmed. Karen rolls her eyes and sighs deeply, Billy tries to ignore it but the discomfort grows in him.

Valentina clears her throat irritably, in order to get their attention, "I don't have all the time in the world, gentlemen, and miss..." She says to Karen, as if saying that she doesn't understand why she was there at all. “Now, can we continue?”

Like children who had been scolded by their teacher (which was perhaps the situation) they fell silent, Graham looked down, Eddie tensed his body in silent protest and Warren shrank back.

Valentina unfolds her plans with an air of meticulous precision. Each document presented is accompanied by a concise explanation, her tone unwaveringly professional. The boys, seated on the sofa, exchange glances, picking up on the gravity of her intentions. The weight of her scrutiny makes them subtly shift in their seats, a collective unease settling in.

As she projects charts and graphs, she casts a discerning eye over the room. Her attention, like a laser, dissects not just the details on paper but also the nuances of their reactions. A sense of judgment, though unspoken, lingers in the air.

The atmosphere becomes almost oppressive, and the band members, despite their casual exterior, feel the weight of Valentina's expectations. Then, with a pause pregnant with implication, she breaks the silence, looking deeply in each one of their eyes.

“Another important topic.” She says gathering the papers. “I already know Billy has a daughter and a wife, but what about the rest of you? Do you have a relationship?”

Silence, as she seemed to already want a negative answer to that question. Karen and Graham look at each other, but no one notices.

“Uh, no.” Graham responds, looking at everyone. “I mean, Eddie?”

Roundtree exhales cigarette smoke, coughing a little as Warren looks at him with a smirk.

“Yeah, I have a girl actually…”

She clicks her tongue in disapproval, writing something down in her notebook. The bassist didn't understand anything, so he just raised his eyebrows, however, Rojas couldn't help but say "What?”

“It’s not good for your image, especially as a band on the rise.” She clarifies, as if it were obvious and they were idiots.

“Why?” Graham asks, his voice was so quiet that the woman had to adjust her glasses to see his lips better.

“Isn't it obvious? It breaks the connection with your fans, they want to be close to you, they want to delude themselves into thinking that they can be part of the band or date you.”

“I dont care?" Eddie is direct, and she seems to bubble with disrespect.

“Well, you better start caring.” she says, in an almost threatening tone. “If you want this, to get somewhere”

The silence is broken by the voice of the band's lead singer, he looks directly at Eddie. “She has a point Eddie.”

Eddie lets out an angry look, rolling his eyes tightly. “You've gotta be kidding me.”

“You have to think about the band...” Billy reinforces, and tension gradually sets in.

“Look who's talking.” He clearly rolls his eyes, filled with anger. “You're not going to break up with Camila, are you? So why do I have to do it?”

“He has a point Billy.” Warren comes to the bassist's defense. “I don't see how it affects us that much, I mean, everyone already knows from our songs that you're married. We're not hiding anything”

Valentina disapproves of Rojas' speech with a clear denial with her head. Billy doesn't respond, he was irritated at being contradicted.

"I'll discuss this with Teddy," she declares, her departure leaving Eddie seething. "I'll reach out when there's a decision. Think about what's at stake here, gentlemen."

As the door closes behind her, Eddie's frustration hangs in the air, the clash of personal convictions and professional expectations echoing in the room.

The bassist storms out the room without sharing any other look with the others, he heads to his room to find you peacefully drawing in your notebook, you look up at him to find his face tense until your eyes meet.

He comes to you almost as if begging for support, you welcome him into your embrace without questioning too much, you knew he didn't always experience good things in this band, especially with his devaluation.

“Wanna talk about it?” You mutter after a few seconds of silence.

“He's such an asshole, I'd punch him in the face now." He blurts out, and you already knew who he was talking about.

“What did he do this time?"

“The woman at the record company is an asshole, she basically said I needed to break up with you.” The information shocks you, you don't know how to react. “Of course, I protested. But that stupid Billy agreed with her. Of course he agreed, right? He's not affected, he's not the one who's going to break up with Camila.”

“Hey, breathe." You ask him, observing carefully you noticed that his knuckles were stiff with so much anger. “But what does our relationship have to do with the band?”

“The woman said that it breaks the connection with the fans, because they want to feel close with us and bla blá blá.” He says rolling his eyes, you frown.

“She wants you to be a single to deceive your fans?" Now, you adjust yourself on his lap.

He nods, and it's your turn to roll your eyes.

“There’s no way!" You protest, kissing him affectionately. You can feel him lose all his angry face under your touch. “You're mine, all mine... But not in a possessive way, dammit, that sounded like an asshole, right? I was trying to be cute. Nevermind”

He laughs, wrapping both of his arms around your waist to get you closer, he kisses you once again. Intensifying your kiss with a touch of need. You stroke the strands of his hair, and he smiles into the kiss.

“No matter how crazy this all drives me, as long as I have you... Everything will be fine.” He whispers against your lips, kissing you tenderly once again.

“I love you" you say, watching the bassist smile. "And fuck Billy and that woman, we're not breaking up anytime soon.”

Eddie Roundtree: And she was right, we didn't. *says showing his wedding ring*

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

Want to be tagged when new stories come out? REASONSMANDY'S TAG LIST

Taglist: @Jaidaschampagneproblems @boredshit-shadow @warrenrojaswife @o1iv3 @hopelessromantic727 @eddiesaurora

115 notes · View notes

billyharringson · 4 months

Text

My contribution to the @harringrove-relay-race is some cute Christmasy fluff. Thank you @greyghoulclub for the introduction.

Christmas had never been all that special to Billy, even as a child. The only Christmas that he could remember with any fondness had been when he’s been eight and his parents had brought him his first surfboard, and even that was marred by the memory of Neil’s drunken rage later in the evening, the fact that he couldn’t use his present for two weeks after he got it and not because the weather was bad.

Then his mother left and any pretence at Christmas or being a ‘happy family’ disappeared. Christmas was just another day, another day where the people around him rejoiced and Billy just tried to survive. Even after Susan and Max arrived things didn’t really change, now Billy just had to watch as Max opened gifts. Any longing for presents of his own had died long ago and Max’s lingering, guilty glances did nothing but drive home that this holiday, just like everything else in his life, was not for him.

He wasn’t sure why Max seemed surprised, she’d been there for his birthday, she should already know that he wasn’t getting anything.

They moved to Hawkins and other than the weather Billy anticipated a Christmas like all the others, at least this time he had his car, he could escape before the fists started flying, before the thin veneer of the ‘perfect American family’ disappeared as it always did.

He just never factored Steve Harrington into his vision.

Billy had been smitten with the doe-eyed, floppy haired boy since day one, and had done everything in his power to dispel everyone else of the notion that he had a crush. Somehow, despite his posturing, his insults, and his generally prickly nature Steve had decided that Billy was his friend. And despite knowing that fraternising with people he genuinely liked only increased the chances of Neil finding out and turning his ire on the poor, undeserving teenager, Billy accepted his friendship.

He accepted the invitations to smoke at the quarry, to drink by the lake. The apparently constant and unspoken invitation to hang out at Steve’s place, that large empty house that just seemed to exist as the physical embodiment of Steve’s loneliness.

It was at Steve’s house where Billy’s view on Christmas changed.

They were lounging in Steve’s bedroom, still high from their last joint when Steve asked. “So, what are you doing for Christmas this year Billy?”

Billy shrugged from his spot on the floor, continuing to stare up at the popcorn ceiling. “Same as last year I guess, watch Max open her gifts and then hide in my room until Neil passes out.” Billy had been surprised initially when Steve had guessed, within one week of knowing him, just what Billy’s home life was like. But Billy quickly learnt that while Steve may not be smart in an academic sense the way that Billy was, he was very smart in an emotional one.

So, whilst Billy continued to hide behind the veneer of loud, bad boy in public, when he was with Steve, he was more honest, more himself.

“What are you doing?” He asked, anticipating an answer filled with opulence, of going to a second home in the mountains, skiing, all that stuff that rich people did.

“Same as normal as well, I guess. “Steve replied, his head turned towards the bedroom wall so that Billy had to strain to hear. “Watch whatever’s on TV and drink until I pass out.”

Billy frowned, propping himself up on his elbows. “What? You mean you’ll be here…alone?”

Billy knew that they both drank more than was good for them, that they drank for very similar reasons, just as he knew that Steve only drank to excess when he was left alone, when the echoes of his empty house got too loud.

“Yeah, mom and dad have already gone to Colorado, they’ve got a lodge there.” Steve finally looked at him, a faint blush on his cheeks that caused butterflies to explode in Billy’s stomach. “Do you…what if you came here for Christmas?” Steve asked shyly. “I can’t promise you a full Christmas dinner, but we can have a feast, the freezer is well stocked.”

“You serious?” Billy was sat up properly now, staring at his friend.

“Yeah, you think your dad would let you?”

“He wouldn’t even notice I was gone.” Billy replied, which was as good as a yes and Steve clearly understood that because his face lit up with a smile.

“In that case, you wanna come over Christmas eve then? We can put up the decorations and then we’ll have the whole of Christmas day together.”

Billy wasn’t sure what he expected when he turned up on Steve’s doorstep on Christmas eve, his overnight bag slung over his shoulder, but it wasn’t the sight of Steve opening the door in a full festive getup. He had a hideous red and green sweater on that appeared to have had a fight with a tinsel factory and lost, a floppy red Santa hat perched atop his precious hair, and honest to God sunglasses in the shape of Christmas trees covering his eyes.

“Billy.” Steve crowed, having to shout slightly over the Christmas music blaring through the house. “Merry Christmas.”

“It’s not Christmas yet, pretty boy.” Billy replied with a snort, shucking his jacket and accepting the glass of sherry that Steve handed to him. “You really do go all out when you’re expecting guests.” He continued, gesturing to Steve’s getup.

Steve laughed, removing the glasses and placing them on the table. “Nah, I just wanted to see your expression when I opened the door.” He replied, tossing the hat onto the sofa and combing his fingers through his hair. “I’m keeping the jumper on though.”

“Shame.” Billy hummed before he could stop himself, flushing to the roots of his hair when he realised what he’d said. “You said we were decorating.” He said in a desperate attempt to change the subject, gesturing to the bare Christmas tree stood in the corner of the room.

“And we are.” Steve replied chipperly. “The decorations are in the garage.”

Billy grumbled but helped Steve carry the three large boxes from the garage to the living room.

“We used to have a lot more, enough for the whole house but with my parents always away for Christmas it was too much effort so it’s just the living room stuff now.” Steve explained as he opened one of the boxes and pulled out a long garland. “That one has the tree decorations in it.” He gestured to the box that Billy had just put down with his chin. “Why don’t you focus on the tree, and I’ll do the other bits?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Billy said.

They decorated to the soothing sounds of Bing Crosby, the room seeming to grow warmer and cosier as more ornaments were set out. Billy felt both giddy and completely relaxed at the same time and wondered if this was what Christmas was supposed to feel like.

If it was, he wondered if he would be able to have it every year.

He placed the golden star on the top of the tree with a contented smile, stepping down off the stool that Steve had provided for him. “There, what do…Steve?” Billy turned towards the door where Steve was hanging what was unmistakably mistletoe, and Billy felt himself flushing again.

Why had Steve brought mistletoe if it was only going to be the two of them?

He felt a brief flicker of hope in his chest that he tried desperately to suffocate. This was probably just a tradition that Steve hadn’t thought much about, either that or he’d organised a surprise Christmas eve party or something.

“What are you doing?” He asked, that little flicker growing stronger when Steve blushed.

“Putting up mistletoe?” Steve replied quietly, bashfully.

“Why?” Billy pushed, swallowing loudly when Steve held out his hand towards him, like he wanted Billy to take it. Trying not to second guess this too much Billy slipped his hand into Steve’s, allowing him to tug him into the doorway, directly beneath the mistletoe.

“Why else would people put up mistletoe?” Billy followed Steve’s gaze upwards to the little green and white plant. “To have an excuse to kiss the boy I love.”

“Steve.” Billy breathed, feeling tears pricking at the backs of his eyes.

“Merry Christmas, Billy.” Steve said quietly before leaning forward and pressing a sweet, chaste kiss to Billy’s lips.

If this was what Christmas was supposed to feel like, then Billy could finally see the appeal.

“Merry Christmas, Steve.” He whispered, returning Steve’s kiss with one of his own.

(I'll post this on AO3 at some point as well)

And introducing @racketti who is next up on the list :)

#billy hargrove #stranger things #fanfic #steve harrington #harringrove #relay race #harringrove relay race

79 notes · View notes

hanasnx · 7 months

Text

"not alone anymore."

You raked a hand through your hair, the cold night air fogging your breath as you stepped out the sliding glass door. Escaping the full swing of the party inside, you took refuge out on the balcony, and with trembling hands you struggled to take out a cigarette and a lighter. It was freezing out here compared to the stuffy inside, where the hot bodies dancing acted as a space heater. The dampness of your lips caught the cig, allowing you to check your watch for the time, wondering when you should be heading out. Staring at it for longer than a second told you that it had stopped at one AM. “Shit,” you muttered through your lips dangling the cigarette. How long had it been then? Tapping it out of anger didn’t work either, the face of the clock staring blankly at you. Instead, you tried to light your cig, cupping your hand around it. The lighter sparked, but didn’t catch, no matter how many times you rolled it. “C’mon, really?” A couple more times offered no solution, and you were about to toss and stamp the tobacco in your frustration.

“Need a light?” A voice coming from the side startled you, jumping in surprise, and turning to the source. It was dark out, but you could see. The source was tall, and you watched him rifle his pockets.

“Please,” you replied, inviting him over. Gingerly, he stepped to you, and cupped his hand to protect the fire from the wind, offering it to you. You brushed your hair back and leaned in, letting him light the end for you. Gently, you breathed in, and pinched the cig between your fingers so you could blow the smoke away from him. He pocketed the lighter.

“Sorry to scare you, thought you saw me.” he told you, but by this point you’d already forgotten.

“Hm? Oh,” You wrapped an arm under your chest to protect your middle from the air and to prop up your elbow, sipping your cig leisurely. The smoke warmed your lungs. “no sweat. Don’t sweat it,” you mumbled, kicking the ground underneath you to hear your shoe scrape against the concrete. You sniffed, and glanced at him. “Thanks for the light.” He noticed your small smile, and leaned back against the wall.

“No problem. It seemed like you were having a hard time,” Apparently he’d seen you curse at your watch and your lighter.

“Yeah,” you scoffed, “I think I’m just ready to go home.”

“What’s keeping you?”

“Nothing, I guess,” You shrugged, rubbing your temple with the hand that held your cig. “Feel like if I go home, I’ll wonder why I didn’t stay. I’ve got that fear of missing out, you know?” You glanced at him after you asked the question, and you caught him looking at you already. You idled, having calmed down from the nicotine rush, you registered who you were speaking with. It hit you how cute this guy was. Dark hair, styled up in disheveled locks. Handsome face, with soft lips and crystal blue eyes. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but you could’ve sworn he glanced at your mouth.

“I get that,” he said softly, and you inhaled sharply at the sound of his lowered voice.

You adjusted, mimicking him to rest against the wall, and flicking off the ash from your cig. “What about you? Why are you hiding out here?”

“Not really my scene. I’m just a wingman.” He peered over his shoulder to spy his friend cozying up with the woman he’d been talking to. “Looks like I’m a retired wingman.” He returned his gaze to you, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“‘A wingman’?” you parroted in disbelief, and you looked him up and down. “You?” His lips curled at the question, recognizing it for what it was. A subtle flirt. He gave you a sly look, and to change the subject you offered him the butt end of the cig, “Care for a draw?” He accepted it, your cold hands brushing past one another, and you watched the sharp angle of his jawline as he took a drag.

“Yeah, believe it or not,” he spoke through the smoke, some curling out from his nose. “I’ll be heading out soon.” You were still occupied by the butterflies that erupted in your stomach from the brief contact.

“Shame,” you muttered without realizing, and while he took his second puff he eyed you curiously with a tilt of his head.

“‘Shame’?”

You rolled with it, since it was too late to back track. “Shame,” You shook your head, listening to the bump of the bass inside shake the apartment. “I was just about to ask you if you wanted to come back in with me for a dance.”

“Dance, huh?” he said with interest, handing off the roach. The temperature of your skin giving him an idea. “I’m not a big dancer.”

“I bet you’re great, c’mon,” You found yourself wanting him to stay. “Just one, I’ll be really nice even if you make a fool of yourself,” you assured, coaxing him.

He merely shook his head, “Maybe next time,” It was an empty promise. “Nah, I wanna grab a cup of coffee. You should come with.”

“I’m just saying, I find it hard to believe that out of every animal on the planet you’d wanna be a… porcupine.”

He eyed you over the rim of his mug, brows furrowed. He hissed when he placed it down. “And I’m just saying, that in a world full of predators, I’m gonna be the guy with the impaling armor.”

You shimmied in your seat, sizing him up. “You wouldn’t wanna be a predator?” you teased. “Most guys I ask usually go for one of the big cats, gator, rhino, or gorilla—“

“—Those are the most popular options—?”

“— From the guys I’ve asked, yes!” A smile tugged at his lips from the conversation, and you continued. “It’s science, really.”

“Science?”

“Science. I’m telling you. There’s a psychology to it.”

“Explain,” He took another sip of his coffee. The diner you two occupied was cool toned, greens and silvers and blues. Empty, except for a gray bearded man in the corner, and the two of you sitting on the bar stools, facing each other.

“The guys who say they’d be gator, those are the rednecks,” You began, and with fake interest, your companion perked up in his seat, flashing you a wide eyed expression.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up,” you told him playfully, reaching over to nudge his shoulder. He rested his cheek on his fist, and gestured for you to go on. “So those are gonna be the guys with the camo, they’re from Florida primarily, probably carry without a license.” You listed on your fingers, crossing your legs. “Gorilla guys are the big, buff for no reason— like The Rock-level buff— maybe less. From my research,” He raised his brows at you in feigned intrigue, knowing this was based on nothing but your own observations. “they’re more of the hit-first-ask-questions-later type. Rhinos too, however I think Rhinos are the more husky of the two. Other than that, those have been pretty interchangeable. Now, the cats, that’s where it gets interesting.” He checked his watch and glanced up at you, and you rolled your eyes at his bad joke. “I’m almost done. Lions are the vain type, usually long hair, real pretty boys, probably have a tattoo of one or want a tattoo of one.” Your eyes searched the ceiling, feeling hot under his gaze for talking this long. “Tigers are the serene type, zen, yoga, I’ve-trained-with-a-bo-staff and studied-abroad. Jaguars, usually black jaguars, are the goths. The piercings, the tats, the rockstar hair, skinny jeans, and tight v-necks.” You met his eyes.

“Done?”

“Mm-hmm,” You sipped your coffee, and added some cream before tasting it again.

“So what about porcupine guys? What do you think of them?” he asked, downing the last of his drink. You saw how his downturned lips attempted to hide his smile, betraying his eagerness to hear your opinion of him.

“Pretty cool, I guess.” You pushed out your lips, letting your gaze travel generously this time. “Tall, lanky—“ You noted the shift in his expression, and you revised, “—toned,” You narrowed your eyes, gauging his reaction. When it was satisfactory, you moved on, “Nice hair, pretty eyes. Very cool leather jacket.”

“What about personality?” he interjected, leaning back in his chair, and you were unable to ignore how he spread his knees.

“Calm,” Was your first thought, and he quieted. “charming, endearing.” Your gazes met, locking eyes as you finished. “Hopelessly alluring.”

As if to taunt you ever further, your companion inclined into your direction— and marginally you leaned in— but his purpose was to shed his leather jacket, sliding it off of his shoulders. Only encouraging his suspicions of your helpless attraction, you stare unapologetically, mesmerized by his elegant movement, and how close the two of you were. His dirty trick had done its dirty deed, and he folded the jacket within itself, tossing it onto the bar behind him so he could face you in his black turtleneck. One that highlighted his figure that had you wondering if he modeled clothing wear by the way he sported it like it was made for him. You moistened your lips and he glanced down at them, drawn to you like a moth to flame.

His voice was soft, feather-light and carressed your ears like a saint’s prayer. “So what animal did you choose?”

Having been lost in such a small and seemingly insignificant disrobing, you were stupefied. You shook your head as if to clear your brain fog, responding dreamily, “What?”

Since you required reengaging, he crossed his arms and fixed his elbow at the edge of the bar so he could insert himself further into the conversation. Demanding your attention, and begging you to check out how thick his arms looked in his sleeves. “You ask all these guys their philosophical animals so what did you say when they asked you?”

You flashed a confuddled furrow of your brow. Downturning your lips as you searched the corners of your mind for an answer even when it was doomed to chart a naughty course. “Um…” a single nervous chuckle emitted, “I don’t think anyone’s ever asked, actually.” All of a sudden, you were painfully aware of the kind of men you’ve been wasting your time with.

Perhaps the self-proclaimed “predators” had a bad streak of being conceited.

Somehow, he understood your entire thought process, watching your expressions shift. This was noted, but not commented on. “So?” he awaited your answer.

It took you a second to decide. He had spat his so easy, ready with an explanation as soon as you’d thought up the question. Did he choose a creature based on his preference toward it, or was it just the intelligent answer?

Did it really matter? It shouldn’t, yet here you were, worrying yourself over what this stranger would think of you. Pick you apart like you so carelessly did to the others in front of him. “I’ve always liked white foxes.” Insecure in your decision and how it shone through in your voice, implied an invitation for him to scrutinize you. You expected it.

A very slight shift in his expression, how he tilted his head, and his oceanic blue eyes traveling you from head to toe— was unhelpful in easing your nerves. “A white fox,” he hummed, interested, playful. “The storybook archetype of a clever and intelligent creature.” You swallowed. “The symbol of trickery, or luck, depending on your culture.” He bowed his head forward to catch your eye, looking at you through his brows, “Cunning, silver-tongued, and beautiful. However,” The start of his new sentence implied something promising, adjusting in his seat to tap his finger onto the bar. “a white fox suggests you hide something.”

It refreshed you to hear his thoughts about you. Eloquently stated, without sparing too many details. You hadn’t connected any dots without his assistance, but you were more alike to a white fox than you anticipated. Your famed animal inquiry allowed you a small and idiotic window into how people thought of themselves. Not only had he played your game, but he turned it around on you.

“Is that a bad thing?” you asked, unable to tear your eyes away from each other.

“I like a good mystery.”

107 notes · View notes

just-a-sleepy-idiot · 2 years

Text

Billy & Stu Imagine: Comforting you when you're sad SMUT

Content/Warnings: Not gendered but Reader wears a skirt, Fingering and oral (Reader receiving) kinda boarding school AU? They live in dorms, Angsty!! Referenced self harm and scars on your arms, Reader has depression

Summary: Depressive!Reader feels like a failure and the comfort your best friends turns into more

It drained your last energy to get to your room unnoticed, to slip past your classmates without letting the emotions show that boiled inside of you. You kept your gaze down so they wouldn't see when tears welled up once in a while before you regained control over your expression.

Only when you made it into your room you allowed yourself to slowly fall apart. Tears blinded you and streamed down your heated cheeks as the first sobs escaped your closeted throat.

You failed again, failed like you always did despite your desperate attempts to be better. You really tried to keep up but eventually you would always fall behind and end up being the airhead who doesn't get it.

Sinking to your knees you folded your arms over your head on the edge of your bed. Your fingers ran through your hair, painfully gripping it for a moment. You thought about the knife in your nightstand, and instinctively you yearned for the pain to quieten your buzzing mind.

That was when a soft knock interrupted your thoughts, and a moment after the unmistakable steps announced that your best friends had just entered the room. The door softly shut behind them, you didn't even bother to hide the tears- you couldn't put yourself together at this point.

They exchanged a look, over the course of the day they had felt your energy shift. The others had thought you were just tired but since they were your best friends even someone as oblivious as Stu had noticed that something was wrong. And then you had disappeared so suddenly after class- so they went to find you.

Now that they saw you like this their suspicion was confirmed and the worry worsened, they hated to see you like this. To see their best friend, the person who accepted and completed them, look so broken. And you didn't even tell them.. even though they always came to you when they felt bad.

Stu was the first to hurry to your side, kneeling down next to you and eyeing you with worry. Billy followed after locking the door, he didn't want anyone else to see you in a vulnerable state like this.

"Why didn't you tell us.." he said softly, and gently pushed his fingers through your hair while Stu rubbed your back.

"What made you sad?" Stu now asked, and you sobbed in an attempt to answer, "I'm good at nothing, there is no way I can archive anything after school."

They knew about these insecurities, so they fell silent for a moment. Then they gently tried to make you stand up,

"C'mon.." Stu said, "Don't sit here on the ground.." Billy wiped away a tear from your cheek with the utmost care, seating you on the bed. They sat down on both sides of you and looked at each other, trying to figure out how they could make you understand how amazing you were.

"You are smarter than you think" Billy begun, and made you look at him. "You are not dumb, you are just hindered by your depression."

"Yeah! I mean how could you expect yourself to run with a broken leg?" The blond added, and put his arm around your waist. Billy in turn put an arm around your shoulder, and you let your head drop down on his.

"You aren't lazy for not being able to learn as much as you want to Y/n. Doing your best doesn't mean working until you have to cry." Billy added and pressed a kiss to your head. That made you tiredly open your eyes again and his gaze was met with this incredible exhaustion in yours. You were so hopeless right now..

In a moment of tiredness your body felt more heavy, making you and Billy lean back a moment. But he just went with it and laid down facing you. Stu did the same and hugged you from the back, pressing a kiss on your shoulder. That made you hum quietly, putting a hand on top of his on your stomach. "You are so warm.." you murmured and closed your eyes.

Billy played with your hair and put his forehead against yours, you could feel his breath. He then surprised you by gripping you by the back of your knee, leading your leg to lie on top of him to which you gently put a hand on the back of his head.

It was comfortable, cuddling with them like that. You had hugged them before, but never have the three of you been so close. But it didn't feel weird, it felt.. right, it felt natural.

Stu kissed your shoulder again, then your neck, it caused a good kind of shiver to run through your body and a soft gasp left your lips. It seemed as if they paused a moment at that, you felt them looking at you despite still having your eyes closed.

Billys hand on your leg now rubbed your thigh, "Your skin is soft" he said quietly and Stu hummed in affirmation to that. Billy now also pressed a kiss to your jawline, your eyes opened just a little bit, you could now feel his lips lingering over yours. You looked at him and without a thought your lips connected as if it was natural, moving against each other softly.

Stu started to rub your stomach now, it all made a heat rise within you and it was focused on both of them. They made you feel comfortable and also.. excited. You couldn't help but push your backside against him, instinctively encouraging him like that. He groaned at the fraction and let his hand go a bit lower, just testing the waters as he played with the hem of your skirt.

He usually already had an intense gaze, but when you opened your eyes to look at Billy it seemed so much.. more. So soft oft yet possessive and it made you feel both so protected and wanted at the same time. And despite Stu already being quite the touchy type the way he was being physical right now was also different. It was bearing a kind of possessiveness as well, as if he didn’t want to let go of you.

Billy put a strand of your hair behind your ear and pressed another quick kiss onto your lips, exchanging a look with Stu to confirm that they were thinking the same thing.

„Just let go, we‘re going to make you feel better.“

He said lowly and slid his hand over your thigh, sliding your skirt up in the process. His sharp gaze darted down to your exposed underwear, and his index finger lightly pressed down on your sensitive spot.

Your breath hitched, and both listened up attentively at the pleasant sound that left your lips. It was thrilling to hear what you sounded like when you were being touched. So different from anything your friends knew from you, but something they have absolutely imagined before.

He circled that area, building tension in your stomach while Stu‘s hand went to lightly press a finger against your entrance, swirling the tip of his finger over it on top of your panties.

They kept on touching you like this before they clearly felt how turned on you were through the underwear.

„Let me help you dear“ Stu said and yanked your underwear down, exposing your throbbing sex completely. Billy pushed you on your back by your shoulder and helped to slide them off your legs completely.

They hovered above you on either side, making your eyes widen wish a blush. It made them smile to themselves to see you like that, so bashful but with that turned on gleam in your eyes hanging over your gaze as you looked up to them.

Billy now directly felt up your entrance with his fingers and groaned, you were so perfect. He started easing two fingers into you, making you moan and throw your head back at the penetration. They both looked on with awe how easily your insides swallowed him, tightening around his fingers so deliciously.

You were so embarrassed that you tried to close your legs, but Stu firmly gripped them by the back of your knees and kept them separated.

„Don’t be embarrassed, you‘re stunning.“ He said and rubbed his face briefly against your thigh, grinning mischievously before leaning down to flick his tongue against your sensitive spot. It made you moan even louder, and you threw your head to the side in bliss.

They exchanged glances and Billy kissed you again, thrusting his fingers in and out of you firmly while Stu came up between your legs to continue his vigorous treatment with his tongue.

Your hips started to move on their own to meet this wonderful feeling, making them smile as the feeling in your stomach increasingly build up.

They seemed to feel that you were close and increased their actions. Billy relentlessly pounded his fingers into you, starting to kiss down your neck and leaving a soft bite on your shoulder. Stu started sucking directly were you wanted him the most, and tears spilled from your eyes as you felt yourself coming over the edge.

You completely came undone, and came around them. Arching your back, looking prettier than anything that they have ever seen before as they kept on pushing you through your orgasm.

You lost all energy and caught your breath, feeling the pulsing remain after they softly retreated from it.

„You are breathtaking when you cum, I could work you up for hours.“ Stu said and played with your hair, licking his lips with a grin.

„You did so well, you should rest now.“ Billy added, which made you whine and hold onto their arms as they attempted to get up.

„No! Please.. stay with me.“ You asked, and they exchanged a glance before getting off their shoes and settling down on either side of you again.

„Come here.“ Stu said, you followed swiftly and moved over into his open arms. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on top of yours, closing his eyes along with you.

Billy put an arm around your waist and settled down to lie behind you, putting your skirt in place again before pulling the blanket on top of all of you. „Sleep.“ He said, „We‘ll be there.“

And you relaxed further, sighing as you cuddled into your best friends under the blanket.

I hope you liked it!!

#slashers x reader #poly ghostface #poly ghostface x reader #billy and stu x reader #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #ghostface x reader

976 notes · View notes

starlightshadowsworld · 2 months

Text

There's no one around, not at this hour. Atsushi says he only comes here because the Port Mafia are still crawling around the place.

It is land after all.

But he knows its a lie, they wouldn't stop him. Gin had invited him to the funeral.

For reasons Atsushi can't quite figure out, nor does he want too. No one stopped him from showing up, almost like they expected him to.

Even if Atsushi stood right at the back.

And only visits at night. Maybe it's because at this hour he can't see the writing on his grave. The moon shines in the sky and any other time Atsushi would find it beautiful.

Now it's a constant reminder of his failures. This wouldn't have happened if he hadn't been stronger.

Atsushi finds Akutugawa's grave, even without seeing the words he knows its his. He curls up beside it, hugging his coat close.

He'd been thinking about what he should say. But now that he's here, all words have escaped him.

But eventually Atsushi speaks.

"Don't know where you are right now." It was a dumb thing to wish, but Atsushi hopes Akutugawa is out there... Somewhere.

There was no body but Atsushi had seen it as he ran. Atsushi doesn't think he'll ever get the image out of his mind.

He smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes "did you see me on TV?" Atsushi tries to imagine what Akutugawa's face would look like. Seeing Atsushi believed to be a terrorist, he'd probably just roll his eyes.

Atsushi would do anything to see that image in person. He hugs his legs, a comfort he doesn't deserve. "I'll try not to starve myself, just because I'm mad at me." The urge was there, there was no one left to punish him.

He didn't know where everyone was.

"And I'll be in denial, for at least a little while. What about the plans we made?" Atsushi hadn't thought of the fight, even knowing it wasn't going to happen... Atsushi couldn't accept it.

Akutagawa had considered him highly enough to make Atsushi his trial. But Akutugawa was wrong, because Atsushi was nothing.

How anyone could consider them equals?

"The Internets gone wild watching Agency members on trial while their overturning the page." Akutugawa deserved to know what was happening. Atsushi hadn't spoken to anyone about it, or anything honestly.

He hadn't said a word since returning from the boat. Sometimes Atsushi still thinks he's on it, watching Akutugawa die before him over and over.

All with a smile on his face.

"Now all of my friends are missing again... cause that what happens when I get too close."

He shouldn't have come, but he'll return the next night. Just like he always did.

(lines are from TV by Billie Eilish)

#Random thing #atsushi nakajima #bsd atsushi #bsd akutagawa #shin soukoku #bsd sskk #bsd #bungou stray dogs

36 notes · View notes

lefteagleblizzard · 19 days

Text

I’ve always have been a fan of masks

Billy burn x gender neutral reader

There has been lately a Billy fever on tumblr and I’ll take the opportunity to post this little though that came to my mind a week ago ｡^‿^｡ Thank you for all the likes and reblogs on my Derek danforth fic, I really appreciate it.

Summary: Billy has taken his revenge on Melinda and escaped safely the gas station before it could explode, but he wasn’t expecting the police to be there shortly after the explosion. Now behind the bars of a police station all he can do is hope for your help. Because, you will help him, right?

Warnings: gender neutral reader (let me know if I missed something). English is not my first language so apologies for bad grammar. Reader and Billy are engaged. Make out. Angst with happy ending. Pretending to argue. Badass reader

Words count: 1621 words

The room of the police station was cold and neon-lit. With your eyes swollen from crying, you sat in front of the policeman. His heart sank as he tried to find the right words.

“You were the only person he said he wanted to be here. He has been arrested for attempted robbery at a gas station. What’s your relationship with the criminal?”

“He's my husband. They arrested him for attempted robbery? I can't believe it.”

“Calm down, please. This is the first time that he has been arrested?”

“No” you sobbed with a tissue covering your mouth. “He promised me that it would have been the last time he would do something illegal”

The deputy took notes, his face serious.

“What exactly happened? How was he involved? Did he hurt someone?”

“We are still investigating the matter, your husband still hasn’t talked to me and all we have is just a gas station completely on fire and two carbonized corpses. We will do everything we can to find out the truth.”

You nodded, wiping your eyes from the tears that kept spilling from your eyes.

The deputy passed a hand over his shapid beard. He had seen so many similar stories, young lives destroyed by drugs and crime. But you looked different. Your eyes were full of innocence and hope, and his pale face was marked with sadness.

“I understand it’s hard to accept,” He said. “But we have to do our job. Billy will be tried and will have a chance to defend himself. In the meantime, we will try to find out if there are other people involved.”

You stood up, your legs wobbly. “Can I see him? Can I talk to him?”

The deputy nodded. “Yes, of course. He is in the detention cell. Don’t stand too close to the bars.” Was all he said before going back to his computer.

Deputy Colone is hunched over his desk, doing what he hates most, filling out reports. All his colleagues out while he was forced to stay here to fill out paperwork. He glances up at Billy, then over at you. Satisfied, he returns to his shitwork.

Seated across the room, you appears to be idly sketching something on a large pad present on the desk.

Billy sits on his jail’s cot, head in hands, hopeless.

He waves for your attention.

You looks up at the deputy, still writing on the desk, then over at Billy.

“You’re not gonna pay the bail?” He whispered with a hint of impatience, his right leg bouncing up and down as he kept stealing glances at the deputy.

“So you can do another impulsive act and get caught again?”

The little control he has over his anger is already running out.

Billy gets up off his cot, pacing back and forth inside the small cage stressed over your behavior. He eyes the deputy, then you. You flips a page over, and starts to really write.

“What are ya drawin’?”

The deputy looks up, irritated by the noise and by how he kept treating you.

Billy grabs the cell bars and lean against them.

“Hey, pipe down, cowboy”

“I was just curious about what they were drawing”

You holds it up for Billy to see.

“There. Happy now?”

You throws the sketch pad at him, crossing your arms while looking down at the floor. It bounces off the bars.

He reaches down, grabs it, and pulls it into his cell.

You stands up defiantly as he read everything. Wrath more and more visible all over his face.

“Okay, give it back to me” you extended your hand impatiently.

“Why you wanna sell your engagement ring?” He hissed through clenched teeth.

“Simple, I can’t stand you anymore! This is the umpteenth time you do things behind my back and make trouble. This time it was for an attempted robbery. And you know what? I’m so done with your bullshit”

“So you just wanna leave everything behind you? Sell the wedding ring?”

“Why do you even give that much importance to it? Billy, it’s just a piece of metal with a diamond that you stole! I don’t want to be associated with all of this anymore!”

He squeezed his fists, trying not to completely explode with anger, refusing to speak with you.

You stood up from your seat and approached him, taking the shining and beautiful ring he choose only for you. “And what does it represent now? A man who can’t keep himself out of trouble? I don’t want to be tied to you this way anymore. When there’s always a chance that I could find you dead because you messed with the wrong people in search of money. I want to sell that faith and use the money to start over”

“Okay fine. Do as you fucking wish” he took the piece of metal around his own finger. “Come and get it, so I won’t see your face ever again.” His raised a fist and crashed it agaist the bar. “But remember that it’s not just a piece of metal. It’s a fucking symbol of what we were and what we could be, but you’re too much of a fucking idiot to realize that” It’s a cry of anger the one he unleashed, lacerating and wild, hovering in the air, like a swooping hawk.

The deputy is really getting pissed at the constant shouting.

“Bastard, if you don’t stop yellin-“ he stood up from his seat.

You were already in front of the cell. you reaches through the bars for the ring.

“Finally you made a good decision in your life. Give it to me, idiot”

He grabs your arm, pulls you to the bars, and starts kissing you passionately. The more you struggles, the tighter he envelops you.

Your eyes close, and your lips never separate. The kiss is hungry, passionate, and the world around you two fades. You gets lost in Billy’s kisses, and your heart beats hard in your chest. It’s like time stands still, and all that matters is that connection between the two of you. Your lips only separate for a moment to catch a quick breath, only to come back together with even more desire.

The deputy races across the room. Awkwardly, he grapples to separate you two. He rudely detach Billy’s hand from your waist before shoving him away.

Your hand secretly reaches down and pulls the gun from the deputy’s holster.

As he turns to face you, a red laser dot appears on the tip of his nose.

He is shocked.

“Let him out of there.”

You point the laser-scoped revolver right at him. You definitely means business. All the innocence that you previously had now vanished, replaced by a smirk he saw on many criminals’ faces.

The suddenness of the betrayal hits like a physical blow.

Even the most beautiful roses have thorns.

Bully chuckles in disbelief from behind him.

“Hey, don’t clown around with th-“ the deputy tries to take back control of the situation but the click of the security being removed silenced him. Fear grips his chest.

You did just as your lovely husband has taught you, and kept holding the gun dead-steady.

“I ain’t the one with the funny red nose. Now open the cell and exchange places with him” .you put your finger on the trigger. “Now”

Billy had a huge grin of satisfaction on his face, enjoying this too deeply

that’s my good boy

“Better do as they says, ‘cause wherever the red dot goes, a bullet is sure to follow.”

The deputy reluctantly removes his keys and turns toward Billy.

The rusty door opens, creaking loudly as it is set to 90 degrees, enough to allow Billy out. A cocky grin on his face as he steps outside and shoved the useless deputy inside but not before confiscating his radio.

You lowered the gun and went back towards the office to delete all the files that the deputy has written about the arrest of your husband, the computer still open. You tore apart the reports and heard the satisfying sound of paper behind disintegrate and deleted all the recording made by the cameras in the last 24 hours.

A small yell of surprise came from your lips as you were lifted from the ground and landed on the desk in front of you, the culprit had already his arms around you and 2 new guns on both of his sides as he stared lustily at you mouth.

“You never stop surprising me” your foreheads were touching and you felt his warm breath on your face.

“I’ve always been a fan of masks” You replied breathlessly, caressing the side of his cheek and feeling the pungent feeling of his stubble under your touch.

Warmth blossomed in your chest, sparks igniting as Billy leaned in close, lips brushing together. His lips mashed against yours, as if trying to flatten and destroy your mouth. You hungrily pushed back, your mouth open, tongue pushing past his clenched teeth to the moist space within. The bristles of his stubble scratched against your cheeks. He worked his mouth against yours, your tongues battling back and forth like wrestlers, each trying to pin the other.

“Quick now. Let’s run away in another state” you lightly pushed him away, ignoring his small whine as you jumped back on your feet and went towards the exit of this stupid police office.

He checked you out with a smirk as he followed behind you, a plan of how he could show his gratitude to you already in his mind.

Note: hope you liked this as much as I had fun writing everything <3

#gender neutral reader #x male reader #male reader #derek danforth smut #josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader #billy burn #burn 2019 #billy burn x reader #burn movie #billy burn x gn!reader #billy burn x you #Derek danforth #x gn reader #gn reader #Billy burn x male reader

31 notes · View notes

usaigi · 7 months

Text

Modern Blue Lions headcanons

Dimitri

Has difficulties with fine motor skills following the car accident that killed his family and Glenn. Has to use accommodating tools like specific silverware and a laptop to take notes in class. Kids used to be jealous that he got use a laptop in class but he just wanted to be normal

Regular member of his school GSA but everyone assume he's just a straight ally because look at him. Look at his hair. He's straight. His classmates don't discover he's actually bi until a week before graduation when they see him kiss Felix

Also a regular member of the BIPOC solidarity club. Dimitri, Dorothea, Ashe and Constance are the token white allies.

(mental health spiraling) "haha puberty/hormones :) No need to discuss these new symptoms with anyone, it's just normal teenager things" (it is not normal teenage things)

Annette

banned from home ec after starting a fire while making a salad... She's was trying to make homemade croutons...

girl ADHD :)

she got a B on a chem test one and cried about it for 2 days straight

"Maybe if I get all A and get this many awards and get this many scholarships, my dad will love me :)" (girl.. :( )

Frenemies with Lysithea. They're buddies until it's time for exams. Then it's war. There can only be one valedictorian. (death note's "I'll take a potato chip and eat it" songs plays in the background)

Olivia Rodrigo stan

Sylvain

Hasn't said "okay i'm sorry that I looked at Mrs Riley and lightly grazed her left tit" but has said that exact same thing

friend with a car. "yeah we can all fit into my Audi; Annette and Ashe are tiny, just squeeze in and pretend you like each other. We can stick Felix in the trunk" "I'll kill you."

He's in Lacross AND theatre. Ice hockey AND Ice dancing and figure skating. He can do both, he's bisexual

Has to pick between a major sport game and his theatre show. His dad wants him to follow his dream and do the game but Sylvain is getting ready to tell him "no dad i'm giving up your dream." He backs out. He goes to the game.

"You got a perfect score on the college entrance exams?" "Why is it hard?" (he studied so much)

Ingrid

"Gay people are real??? They don't just exist in San Francisco and on Glee???" /gen confusion. Not in a homophobic way, she's just raised in a conservative environment and instead of going on the internet, she hangs out with her horses (Just wait till she finds out about trans people)

When her family was going through a particularly hard financial time, her friends started packing extra lunch. They all know she doesn't accept handouts but Ingrid will never say no to leftovers.

So chronically offline. Who's Billie Eilish? What's Succession? What is Rizz?? They're making another Spider-Man movie!?

Dedue

Vice-president of the BIPOC solidarity club. The school gives them club money and he uses it to make food for the members.

"..." "Go on" "Down with... gringo?" *Claude, Petra, Felix, Cyril, Hapi, Constance, Dimitri, Ashe and Dorothea all clap*

Football/Basketball/Hockey couches keep trying to recruit him. He just wants to garden.

(Tw racism and ref to violence to poc men) "I don't want to antagonist white people. As a large brown man, I'm already perceived as a threat." "That's ok! Your safety comes first. I got this," Dorothea says as she throws eggs at someone's car with a confederate flag.

Mercedes

"I'm joining the war on liberation theology on the side of liberation theology."

"Mercedes! Can you explain your tardiness?" "Forgive me, professor, I was at morning mass." (She was. But she's late because she stop to smoke a blunt.)

In her most angelic, big sister voice, "fuck TradCaths 😊"

Somehow still failing her religious studies class

(tw cults and implied anti semitic conspiracy) Raised in a religious cult where her step dad was the leader until she and her mom escaped. Because of this, did not know Jewish people were real. "I knew they were people in the bible but all I knew was [redact]" (Don't worry, she knows better now that she's not in a literal cult)

Felix

"I fucking hate my dad" "why? Is it cause he didn't accept you being queer/trans?" "No, he was cool with that. He's just fucking annoying."

"Ingrid, what the hell, I'm literally trans. You know this. We've been friends since we were in diapers." "Oh. I forgot." "YOU FORGOT!?"

Wasian. (tw sui joke) @ Dimitri and Sylvain "stop joking about killing yourself--you're appropriating my culture, assholes."

Secret Olivia Rodrigo fan. He only listens to her music on youtube + incognito mode. Only Annette knows. Annette manages to get them concert tickets were they run into Lysithea.

Ashe

Spider-Man stan on main. Somehow he convinces Dedue to be his Ned Leeds to his Peter Parker for Halloween

He knows Ingrid would like the MCU if she watched it, but she's scared of needing to watch 10000 movies

*slaps Ashe's back* You can pack so much anxiety in this guy

Started school in the middle of the year because he's a foster kid. Rumors started spread about him being a harden criminal because he went to juvie. He keeps tries to correct them and say he's never been but Caspar keeps fueling the rumors

"Caspar! Stop telling people I went to juvie! That never happened!" "...You... lied to me? :(" "You made it up!" "Oooh. Right."

#dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #annette fantine dominic #dedue molinaro #sylvain jose gautier #ingrid brandl galatea #ashe ubert #felix hugo fraldarius #mercedes von martritz #dorothea arnault #caspar von bergliez #lysithea von ordelia #fe3h #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem three hopes fanart #fe16 #blue lions #usaigi speaks #heacanons

77 notes · View notes

empresskylo · 2 years

Text

𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞

*•.¸♡masterlist *•.¸♡ao3 *•.¸♡twt

“Please…” Billy whined at you.

Your fingers trailed down his exposed chest and hovered at the waist of his jeans. “Please, what?” You said feigning stupidity.

He looked up at you as you looked over him, your hands feathering along his exposed tummy. Your fingers tickled as you grazed his happy trail. You saw the goosebumps form on his arm at your touch.

“Please, let me touch you.” You could see his hands squeezing together in a fist, trying to contain himself.

You straddled his waist in a quick, rough move, making him grunt. You reached down and grabbed his wrists and guided his hands to your hips. He sighed in relief as he traced his hands along your curves, feeling your warm skin under his fingertips.

You rocked your hips against him, teasing his already painful erection hidden within his tight jeans. “Baby,” he cooed, his eyes closing for a moment.

“Hm?” You hummed, halting your movement again. You wanted him to beg for it. “Did you want something more?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Billy’s hands tightened on your hips. He tried to pull you down to rub against him again but you fought him. You slid off of him and he threw his head back in frustration. “Baby…” But this time he said it in a more defeated tone.

You clawed at the hem of his jeans and decided to take them off, giving him a bit of relief. You shimmied them down his hips and thighs and he sat up on his elbows to watch you. His eyes locked on your frame as you slowly stood back up, your hands trailing on his legs as you did. “I need you so bad,” he mumbled.

“Hm? I Didn’t quite catch that,” you taunted. You grabbed the waistband of his underwear and pulled it down just enough to free his hard length. A loud breath escaped Billy’s mouth, his cheeks growing hot at the anticipation.

“I need you,” he said, louder than before. You eyed him, cocking a brow. “Please,” he added softly. He was getting desperate.

You smiled, slipping your panties off before straddling again. Billy’s hands came up instinctively to your hips again, but you pushed them away. “Ah, I didn’t say you could touch me.”

He whined in response but it was quickly converted into a groan when you grabbed his cock in your hands.

Billy’s forehead began to sweat as he concentrated on you. You rubbed up and down his shaft a few times before resting your hands against his toned chest. Billy withered beneath you, his eyes dark with lust. You sat down slowly so your slit was pressed up against his throbbing cock. Billy grunted in response. “Oh, did you like that?” You asked. Billy nodded his head profusely making you smirk, drunk with power. Agonizingly slow, you slid up and down him, your juices leaving a trail. Billy’s hands dug into his mattress, he wanted to touch you so desperately.

In a few more sways of your hips, Billy groaned loudly as he prematurely expelled himself all over his chest and stomach. His hips bucked up into you as he came, his fingers almost tearing holes in his bedsheets.

You watched him, your mouth almost drooling at the sight in front of you. His cock throbbed against your clit as you stayed pressed against him. Billy looked up at you in newfound relief, but he knew this wasn’t over. Your hands trailed his abs, your fingers swiping up the warm white liquid he just spewed. Your hands came up to his mouth and you motioned for him to open it. He did. He accepted your fingers, your own lips parting as he sucked on them, cleaning them off for you. “Good boy,” you mumbled, slipping your fingers away. Billy’s face was bright red and dewy as he panted, watching you now as you bent over his chest and used your tongue to clean him up. You felt him squirm beneath you as your hot tongue danced across his stomach.

You sat back up and licked your lips, your finger wiping at the corner of your mouth. You felt Billy begin to harden again. “Are you going to be good and let me use you? It’s not fair if only you get to finish,” you hummed, grabbing his cock in your hands. Billy’s length completely hardened again, his face contorting in pain. He nodded, his lips parting as you slowly lined him up with your entrance, swiping his tip along your slit a few times. Billy moaned loudly, he was already dripping in precum again.

“Beg for it,” you said quietly, but you were no less demanding.

Billy could barely think as he spewed out a string of words. “Baby, please. Please, please, I need you. I want you so fucking bad it hurts.”

“Well, since you asked nicely,” you said smiling, and sat down on him, letting his length fill you up in one swift motion. You both gasped loudly, your walls clung to Billy, his length always bigger than you anticipated.

Billy’s nails were digging into your thigh as he shut his eyes, his chest rising and falling in deep movements. You began to bounce up and down, Billy’s thighs were dripping in cum and your juices, the area between you two slick and slippery.

Your hands found Billy’s, interlocking them so you had better leverage to ride him. His eyes were fluttering shut, little cries leaving his lips as you rode him up and down. You could tell he was trying to restrain himself, he knew he had to let you finish first.

You felt yourself getting close, your movements getting lazy. Billy’s hips instinctively bucked up to meet yours, compensating for your wearying movements, making his tip hit you as deep as it could. You moaned in response, your walls tightening around him. Billy’s face scrunched up as he tried to steady his breathing.

You swore, your walls beginning to flutter. “Come in me,” you demanded. Billy’s eyes opened as he watched you, your face showing how cockdrunk you currently were. He couldn’t hold it in any longer and he came inside you, his hips bucking up awkwardly against you. He cried in what sounded like pain as your walls squeezed him heavily, riding out your own high along with him.

White liquid seeped out around him and onto his thighs as you slowed your pace. Your clit rubbed against Billy’s body as you sank completely into him. Your legs shook around Billy, trying your best to balance yourself. You mewled, quietly drowning in pleasure.

You stilled, catching your breath, your eyes closed. You held his torso tightly in your hands, your nails brushing against his skin. Billy’s loud breathing filled the quiet room. You felt him begin to soften inside you. You slowly slid off of him, making him mewl under you. You crawled up to his face and placed delicate kisses along his forehead, then cheeks, then his lips. He hummed into the kiss as your nails dragged through his long hair. “You did so good, baby,” you cooed before curling up next to him. His arms wrapped tightly around you, pulling you as close as he could. Your fingers continued to brush through his hair and his eyes closed in bliss. You’d clean yourselves up in a minute, but right now, Billy just wanted to hold you against him. “I love you,” he mumbled softly.

#billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove smut #smut #stranger things #billy smut #hargrove #billy #stranger things smut #sub billy hargrove #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fic

1K notes · View notes