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astudyinfreewill · 3 years

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look what you made me do || 1/?

aka: me making taylor swift songs about dean winchester and/or deancas bc it’s what dean himself would want

(i will be keeping track of these with a masterpost, just in case i need to find them again or someone enjoys seeing me go hogwild on lyric analysis, lol. also, there’s a wee treat at the end of the post!)

and without further ado, our first tswift x dean song is...

the archer

combat, i'm ready for combat i say i don't want that, but what if i do?

we start off with an extremely obvious line: dean winchester is always ready for combat - he’s been trained all his life to essentially be a soldier/vigilante figure, an ultimate warrior of sorts. the thing is... he doesn’t want to. when dean is left to his own devices, without his father to order him around or a Big Bad to spur him on, what he chooses to do is is cook for his loved ones, have movie nights with them, play music, tinker with parts to build something new. at his core dean is kind, and full of care for others, and his deepest fear is that he truly IS nothing more than just a killer or a weapon - hence the ‘but what if i do’.

'cause cruelty wins in the movies i've got a hundred thrown out speeches i almost said to you

‘the movies’ here is just shorthand for everything he’s witnessed happening around him in real life. as far as dean’s experience goes, cruelty does win. why believe in softness and kindness when your father has taught you that either of those things is a weakness, and the world simply doesn’t care?

as for the second line, well. you can guess what THAT’s about. dean feels so deeply, but really struggles to verbalise his feelings, often brushing them off until he explodes. we usually see him at his most vulnerable while praying to cas, but even then, you get the sense that he’s holding back on so much. (“cas, i need to say something--” “you don’t need to say it, dean.” so it goes, so it goes.)

easy they come, easy they go i jump from the train, i ride off alone i never grew up, it's getting so old help me hold onto you

a few points here: “i jump from the train” could easily be a callback to dean’s impulsive self-sacrificing ways, and “i never grew up” underlines how he never got the chance to evolve and grow into himself because he got essentially stuck in the “child parenting another child” role. sure, he had to be a mother and a father to sam, so in some ways he grew up really fast; in others, he was stuck as an insecure teenager, because he never got the opportunity for healthy emotional growth himself.

and of course, “easy they come, easy they go” is a tragically accurate representation of dean’s most devastating insecurity: that everyone he loves eventually leaves him. mary died, john was constantly absent, cassie broke up with him when he tried to tell her the truth, sam left him behind for college, and then, of course, there’s cas... who just. keeps. leaving, one way or another, and dean just desperately wants him to stay - which also ties into “help me hold on to you”. the irony of it all, of course, is that dean wants castiel to choose not to leave, whereas castiel desperately wants to be asked to stay; and ain’t that just a fucking tragedy.

i've been the archer, i've been the prey who could ever leave me, darling? (but who could stay?)

the first line is pretty self-explanatory: dean has been both aggressor and victim, both literally and emotionally. he’s a fearsome hunter who gets hunted down by monsters in turn; and he’s lashed out and pushed people away, while getting his heart broken in return too.

but it’s the second part that really strikes me as a dean line, because the first half - “who could ever leave me, darling?” - is the bravado that dean wears like a mask. charming smile, a flirty wink, swagger in like you own the place, “i think i’m adorable”, “i’m a joy to be around”, etc. but the second part... that’s the whisper of truth behind it. for all that dean can turn the charm on and put on a brave face, he’s thoroughly convinced that he’s not worth sticking around for.

dark side, i search for your dark side but what if I'm alright, right, right, right here?

so, can you say trust issues? remember how long it took for dean to believe an angel could be on his side, and then how deeply he came to trust cas? and remember how heartbroken he was when castiel betrayed them in s6, and how that heartbreak was covered up with anger when cas came back? yet, no matter how many twists and turns they go through, inevitably, dean ends up trusting cas with his life - he’s not only the definition of a ride-or-die, but he also trusts him in smaller, more intimate ways, such as letting down his guard and allowing himself to be vulnerable only around him, or praying to him for comfort as much as guidance.

and i cut off my nose just to spite my face then hate my reflection for years and years

...but because of those trust issues, and because of dean’s deeply entrenched abandonment issues as mentioned above, often dean ends up reacting to things more harshly than is needed, by lashing out in anger and pushing people away (or, in more than one occasion, through the infamous silent treatment). but we also know he immediately regrets it, because it ends up hurting him just as much, if not more. basically this correlates to his speech from 15x09 about his anger issues.

i wake in the night, i pace like a ghost the room is on fire, invisible smoke and all of my heroes died all alone help me hold onto you

there’s also the fact that having attachments as a hunter isn’t exactly safe, and comes with a shitton of fear of losing people - or remorse and regret when you do lose them. “the room is on fire, invisible smoke” - i can only imagine dean would still have nightmares of that fateful night when he was 4 years old and his mother burned alive on a ceiling (and so: “i wake in the night, i pace like a ghost). as for his heroes dying alone... mary. john. ellen. jo. ash. kevin. charlie. the list stretches way too long. it’s only natural he’d be afraid of losing cas too... especially since he’s already died multiple times, and dean has mourned him more and more devastatingly each time.

i've been the archer, i've been the prey screaming “who could ever leave me, darling”-- but who could stay?

the same concept as the previous chorus, except that here the façade of confidence and swagger comes off almost as desperate (screaming “who could ever leave me”). but then we know overcompensating is kinda dean’s thing.

'cause they see right through me, they see right through me they see right through me -- can you see right through me? they see right through me, they see right through me i see right through me, i see right through me

and we circle back to dean’s constant fear of being found worthless, damaged, and unlovable. no matter how much bravado he puts on, his actual self-worth is close to non-existent, so of course he’d feel like a fraud, and it makes sense he’d fear other people seeing through his act, or wonder if they do - can cas see right through him? because dean himself certainly isn’t buying his own lies.

all the king's horses, all the king's men couldn't put me together again 'cause all of my enemies started out friends help me hold onto you

the first line just... hurts me a lot. i guess it’s the nursery rhyme sound of it, almost trying to take the bite of a statement which is, essentially: i’m broken beyond repair. as i said above, dean’s not buying his own lies, he knows exactly how much baggage and trauma he carries. and not to go back to the trust issues again, but it is hard to believe someone could see past that when there’s so much betrayal in your history (which, yes, has included cas at one point too, as well as sam, or, say, fucking chuck).

i've been the archer, i've been the prey who could ever leave me, darling? (but who could stay?) who could stay? who could stay? you could stay, you could stay...

and then... we have the third repeat of the chorus, which echoes the first, softer version of it, but with a fundamental difference. this time, the rhetorical question “who could stay?” finds a pointed answer in “you could stay”. because yes, maybe cas leaves a lot, but he always, always comes back. so i’d imagine dean harbours hope that one day, maybe, cas will want to actually... stay for good.

combat, i'm ready for combat

and that hope kinda gives this final line a whole new lovely layer of meaning: dean’s no longer ready for combat just because he’s been trained for combat all his life; rather, he’s ready for combat because for once in his life, he has something to look forward to; something to fight for: the happy ending he deserves, where someone - perhaps someone in a dirty trenchcoat and tired blue eyes - will finally stay.

---

BONUS: literally the day after i started obsessing over this song as a dean song, i found a fanvid of it! if that’s not serendipitous, i don’t know what is <3

#spn #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #taylor swift #meta #mp #long post for ts #uuh how else to tag this #tswift x dean winchester #??? that sounds like a ship #anyway. i know there's been some interest in this so hopefully it doesn't disappoint #and if you wanna be tagged in these/suggest songs lmk!!!#lwymmd

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whitecatindisguise · 4 years

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The Sundrop Alchemist (4)

Posting a little bit earlier today, bc thought we all need some fluff and happy times after the RP thread.

Anyway, onwards.

Summary: Varian decides to go see the birthday lights with the help of rather unwilling intruder. But what can he do to convince him...?

AO3 link is here

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Chapter 4: The Unwilling Helper

With a little help from Ruddiger, Varian managed to move the intruder from the closet, onto the chair. The two then tied the boy’s hair around the body like a rope. Ruddiger made sure the hold was secure. Neither knew if the intruder was dangerous but they weren’t going to take any chances.

When the raccoon finally deemed the knot safe, Varian pulled the chair a little bit closer to the light, himself hiding in the shadows. He nodded at his friend and prepared for the intruder to wake up.

Ruddiger climbed the teen’s frame. He sat at his shoulder and smacked his cheek with a paw. Varian held his breath. The intruder didn’t even react. Ruddiger shot him a puzzled look and smacked him again and again, with no result, apart from the cheeks reddening. The raccoon huffed in annoyance and scurried down.

Varian’s eyes followed the animal as it went to the kitchen, grabbed one of the glasses and filled it with water. The raccoon climbed the unconscious teen once again and dumped the whole glass at his head with the biggest I’m-so-done face Varian has ever seen.

The teen shot up almost instantly, Ruddiger falling off in the process.

“Wha-?” The green eyes widened in shock. “What’s going on? Why am I wet?” His gaze fell on his bindings and he looked truly puzzled. “Is that… hair?”

Varian suck in a breath, clenching the frying pan harder. This was it.

“S-struggling is pointless.” He creaked out, voice shaking. He gulped and tried to calm himself. The intruder was tied up. It was Varian, who had the upper hand here.

“What?” The intruder turned towards the voice, eyes squinting in an attempt to see through the darkness.

“You won’t escape, until you answer my questions.” Varian took a steadying breath and stepped into the light, frying pan pointing at the tied teen. “Who are you, and how did you find me?”

The teen blinked in confusion.

“Woah, you’re a boy?” He asked. Varian’s cheeks reddened with anger and he let the frying pan fall.

The boy stared at the unconscious teen in puzzlement. Ruddiger chittered angrily.

“S-sorry bud. I might have overreacted.” He chuckled nervously. The raccoon continued to chitter as it went back to the kitchen to refill the glass.

~~~~

“Let’s try again.” Varian said with furrowed brows, when the teen woke up again. “Who are you and how did you find me?”

‘Is this all hair yours?” The intruder asked in return, eyes scanning the room. “That’s a lot of hair. Is it real?”

“Wha-? Of course it’s real and- Hey!” Varian started replying before he noticed the teen changed the subject. He pointed the frying pan at him again. “Just answer the question!”

“How about a no.” The teen shrugged and looked at him challengingly. “You can’t make me.”

“‘No, but I can let Ruddiger scratch your face.” Varian answered, pointing at the raccoon which growled.

“Ugh, fine. Name’s Hugo.” The teen, Hugo said. “Hugo McCoy. What about you, Princess?”

SMACK

~~~~

“Why do you have to hit me every damn time?” Hugo growled, drops of water falling down his bangs. “And can’t you find a way to wake me up that doesn’t include making me wet?!”

“We tried to smack your face but you wasn’t reacting.” Varian shrugged.

“So you just decided to dump water at me? Way to go, Princess.” Hugo growled.

The long-haired boy flinched and raised the frying pan.

“Do you want me to smack you again?” He threatened, eyes sending daggers.

“Nah, I’m good.” The tied teen replied, raising open palms to show he was giving back. “So what is your name? Or should I just call you Blondie?”

“I’m Varian, and you can stop with the stupid nicknames.” Varian finally said. “Now, for the second question. How did you find me?”

“I wasn’t looking for you, per se, Sweetcheeks.” Hugo shrugged. “I was running from those crazy guards and more crazy horse while trying not to lose the goods and-” He suddenly stopped himself and looked around frantically. “Wait, where is my satchel?”

Varian smirked.

“I’ve hidden it somewhere you’ll never find it.” He exclaimed proudly. The teen looked at him unamused and then took a scan around the room.

“It’s in this pot, isn’t it?” He asked, pointing with his head at the pot standing behind Varian.

SMACK!

~~~~

“Alright, now it’s hidden in the place you’ll never find.” Varian marched in front of the tied-up teen. “And you can take apart this tower brick by brick, and you’ll never find it. Only I know where it is.” The raccoon chittered angrily and Varian corrected. “Okay, only I and Ruddiger know where it is.”

“Nonononono! You don’t understand! I can’t come back without it!” Hugo argued frantically, eyes widening in terror. “Donella’s going to kill me!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll give it back to you. Now, you were saying something about the… horse?” The long-haired boy cocked his head in confusion.

“Yeah, horse. Four legs, tail, mane, hooves-” The bespectacled teen started but Varian cut him in.

“I know what a horse is, I’m not an idiot!” He cried.

“Could have fooled me…” Hugo murmured and Varian rose his frying pan higher.

“You’re really asking for another smacking.” He growled. “But why were you running away from the horse?”

“Dunno what they feed that thing, but it’s not normal.” Hugo shrugged, not elaborating.

“So… you weren’t looking for me?” Varain’s eyes widened in realization. Hugo huffed in response.

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you from the beginning!” He exclaimed loudly. “I was running away from the guards and this crazy horse. Found the tunnel. Found the tower. Climbed the tower to hide. End of story! Now, can I have my stuff back?”

“Actually, no.” Varian replied matter-of-factly. He reached for his notebook and showed it to Hugo. “Do you know what these are?”

The tied-up teen squinted his eyes, gazing at the picture.

“The alchemical lanterns? Yeah, why?” He looked up at the long-haired boy quizzically. “Also, nice drawing.”

“I knew they weren’t stars!” The boy exclaimed, not listening to his hostage anymore. “The colours were off and they were moving too fast to be stars. Plus, they appear only once a year, which is unheard of when it comes to stars.” He turned to Hugo with a serious face. “I’ve come to a decision, Mister McCoy.”

“Just call me Hugo, Blondie.” Hugo cut in and Varian raised the frying pan again. “Okay, Varian.” He corrected and the pan was lowered. “Geez, you need to work on anger control. You can’t just go around smacking people in the head.”

“Anyway, as I was saying.” Varian continued, ignoring completely the last comment. “I’ve come to a decision. Those alchemical lanterns, as you call them, appear only once a year, which is tomorrow night. And you, Hugo, will take me there and bring me safely back into the tower.” The bespectacled blonde looked ready to argue but Varian was having none of it. “Then, and only then I will give you your satchel back. Do we have a deal?”

“Um, no.” Hugo replied quickly. “Can’t you, like, go alone? Why do I have to take you there?”

“I don’t know the way, and you, clearly, do.” Varian answered quickly and smirked. “Of course, I could let you go now, but I already told you. You get the satchel back only after we’re back safely from our little trip.”

Hugo sighed in defeat.

“Okay, I didn’t really wanted to do that, but you give me no choice, Princess.” He somehow managed to reach into his pocket and took out a blue ball. “Beware the power of Alche-!”

SMACK

Hugo’s head fell down, the teen falling unconscious yet again. His grip on the ball loosened and it fell on the floor, rolling away. Varian came closer and picked it up, inspecting it from all angles.

“Did he really just tried to attack us with a bath bomb?” He asked in confusion, looking at the raccoon sitting on his shoulder. The animal shrugged.

Varian sighed as he observed the unconscious teen. This is going to be much harder than he imagined.

------

Hugo smack count: 6

Have a good day~

#tts #varian #hugo #ruddiger #the sundrop alchemist #hugo smack count #alchemy brothers

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yoongisbars · 4 years

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quest of omission | myg (2)

summary: The war between kingdoms was starting and being Freywind’s highest ranking Captain, you would always be there to defend your people from the treachery of Woodwind. There’s just one problem: their best killer, The Silence, and his insufferable ability to make your heart race with both loathing and yearning. And now, on the verge of death after an ambush gone wrong, you both have no choice but to keep each other alive.

pairing: myg x reader genre: enemies to lovers au | knight!yoongi au | future angst? fluff? | drabble series word count: 2.1k parts: 2/_ | 1 cw: prolly shitty yet cruel depictions of death and aggressive encounters(no smut tho chill) note: so we gonna get a bit more of The Silence in this one, but also some non bts chars bc of depth: my walnut brain needed it for its original purpose and im not changing it

A sharp burning pain crept up from within your lungs. The need to cough, gag and vomit was what brought you back. You spewed nothing but the murky water that was surrounding you. After gathering your senses, you try to stand up, trying to recollect how did you even get here, but the memory of the reservoir bursting quickly made its way to your mind. You were soaked head to toe, and covered in mud here and there, and surely you almost drowned, but whatever entity decided you were worthy of living certainly gave you a fighting chance. All in all, you were alive and in one piece. You couldn’t say the same for the few bodies you stumbled across as you wandered the forest. It was dark and endless, congested by spruce, willow, and sequoia trees. Roots curled the surface, accompanied by shallow waters and mud holes. You were thankful of the full moon illuminating the nearly impossible ground you walked. Whenever you came across a body, you prayed it wasn’t Taehyung, Mare, or anyone of closeness. But these were the consequences of battle. You found the bodies of Woodwind men, as well as your own. Looting what was necessary in order to make do. It was a crude sentiment, but they didn’t need whatever they carried anymore. They were long dead. You happened to find a decent knife, like your personal one, which you had managed to keep safely tucked against your thigh.

You wandered and wandered and wandered and all you ever came across was the occasional body or a small woodland animal of any sort. No matter which direction you headed, it always seemed like you were going deeper into the woods. You hoped to find a riverbank so that maybe you could try to find your way back to the ambush location and from there head back to Freywind, but not even that. Time passed but for you it stilled. All you could do was walk aimlessly around the woods in cold weather while soaking wet, trying to at least find shelter of any sort, until your eyes set on a pair of bodies you were all too familiar with… Your beloved underlings. They were at your side moments before the flooding, but now their bodies laid sprawled over roots and mud. From where you stood you could see Atlas’ open eyes, gaze facing nowhere but beyond… His mouth slightly agape, his lasts breaths must have been painful. Eyes that would look to you for guidance and a mouth that would cheer you on, are far gone from this plane of existence. You didn’t know if what was dripping down your face were tears, or remnants of the water you escaped, practically unscathed. Your steps were careful and slow as you got closer. Next to him, was Aeron… His ragged breathing barely a whisper, eyes shut, and face pained. You kneeled beside him, and his name was a whisper escaping your lips. “Aeron?” Your eyes couldn’t help but give him a once over, and it wasn’t until you were in such proximity that you noticed what had him in agony. He winced as he opened his eyes, slightly turning his head over to face you. All color was drained from him, his lips were already turning to an ungodly shade of blue that you had never imagined to be faced with. Even if you knew war eventually led to death, you didn’t imagine death ever touching them, or the gruesome way that it did. “Captain… You’re okay…” His voice cracked and faded, came and went. Whatever strength he still had; he was using it all to speak. “I’m so glad.” Tears started to stream from his eyes as he forced a gentle smile, and you couldn’t help but mimic him. You denied looking down once more, to what came out of his torso, but the source of his slow suffering was impossible to neglect. A large, sharp, twisted root was stained in scarlet as blood continued to pool beneath him.

“Aeron, I’m so sorry. Atlas…” His cold body laid across you, his hand tightly grasped by Aeron’s. It would have been a mercy had they died at once, but one had to suffer while the other was a corpse next to him.

“He passed not long ago. The water… It threw him against those rocks, and I got… stuck here.” Aeron struggled to speak, not raising his gaze from his comrade. “Still, he tried to crawl his way here. He died moments after reaching me.” Their bond was one of the purest, unmatched by any, until the end. “Captain, would you do me the favor of closing his eyes?” Your nod was small, but genuine. A trembling hand neared Atlas’ cold face, placing it over his lids. You let it rest there for a moment as you let out a tiny sob.

“Thank you, thank you…” The grip of Aeron’s hand on Atlas’ tightened. As if giving him a final goodbye.“Have you found any live ones?” You didn’t notice when Aeron was facing you again.

“No. Not yet.” You wiped away at the residue coming out of your nostrils. “Has anyone been nearby?” The young boy softly shook his head. His free hand slowly went to reach your face, thumb wiping away at the tears that were still streaming.

“Captain, it’s okay. These situations are inevitable in war, you taught us so.” You shook your head as you gently squeezed his hand. Not like this, never like this. “It has been my greatest honor to train under you and fight alongside you. I’m sure Atlas would say the same.” His words were slow and ragged, but genuine. In his eyes, embers were fading, but one spark remained.

“Take my necklace. Make sure when you get out of here and return home, please give it to Sian, give her my regards, tell her what I never could… Tell her I love her dearly...” Regret and numbness welled in his eyes, the pain of not returning to the love of his life was greater than that of being impaled. Your hands made their way towards his neck, slowly removing his necklace, avoiding him any more pain. You placed it around yours and safely tucked it under your mucky clothes.

“I will. I’ll let her know you thought of her until the end.” You went for his hand and gave him a squeeze of reassurance, not letting go.“Thank you.”

You stayed by Aeron’s side in silence, refusing to let go of his hand, focused on his ragged breathing and the cold night surrounding you. You couldn’t bare seeing him like this, but neither putting him out of his misery. Not like he wanted you to anyways, all he wanted was for you to be by his side until nature took its course, just like he was for Atlas. You felt the grip he had on your hand slowly loosen up, as his head slowly rolled to the side and against your shoulder until you heard it. It was faint, but you heard it. You would continue to hear it for the rest of your existence. The final sign of life escaped him when his breath did, and he was gone. It took time to get there, but he was gone in an instant.

Sobs escaped from your inner core. Your underlings were dead beside you, their bodies would not be put to rest in a proper burial where their loved ones can have their final goodbyes. They would be left in a forest in God knows where, together at the very least. Alone, but together.

With shivery legs, you got up and gently repositioned Atlas’ body in a more comfortable manner, placing both his hands over his chest. A grim expression grew on your face as, through tears, you tried removing Aeron’s body from the root. More sobs got stuck on your throat as more blood poured from his chest, no wonder his light armor couldn’t withstand such mighty root. Once his body mimicked Atlas’, you scouted the nearby area for flowers. Carefully plucking some delicate blue ones; you placed them in their hands. You sat in front of their bodies silently, accepting that they were gone, and you were alone. Alone, but together. It was a small comfort, they were only lifeless bodies with you, but at least they were with you, and you gave them both a small, decent send off to the beyond. Your goodbyes you kept to yourself. Your regrets as well.

As you mourned your losses, the sound of a snapping twig broke you away from your sorrows. Wiping your tears away with one arm and drawing your small blade with the other as you stood, you surveyed your surroundings with caution. Breathing was close to nonexistent as you tried to be as silent as you could, if only to listen more carefully. Wary footsteps got closer in sound, but you couldn’t see anything or anyone yet. Not until they peered themselves into view from behind some trees, less guarded than you were.

“You…” When your eyes deciphered who it was, the anger inside you soon started to boil again. It was his fault, it was his unit, it was he who led the ambush.

“You.” He slowly retired the blade he was ready to draw back to its sheath once he realized it was only you. Still wet, shivering, covered in mud, blood, and tears. His eyes travelled to the bodies behind you, peacefully laid out, and then travelled back to you. He had never seen someone that looked so distraught completely shift into rage and fury.

“Don’t look at them, lowlife scum.” Low, harsh tones met his ears. “It’s your fucking fault I lost them. I’m going to kill you.” The last sentence was drawn out so slowly, he was almost taken aback when you lunged for his throat with your blade, ready to return the scar he left you with and take his life while you were at it. But he was quicker. Before you could land a single hit, his hands clasped around your wrists with more force than necessary. In a second, he forced your body around, kicking you behind your knees. You dropped to the ground in pain.

“You really think I’ll quit?” Attempting, but failing, to stab him while throwing your arms back at him, he twisted your wrists above you until nearly snapping them, with an aching yelp, the blade fell out of your hands. He quickly let you go and pushed you forwards. You winced and seethed as you brought your semi injured wrists up to your chest. Using the lesser pained hand, your reached for the blade, but were quickly halted by the weight of his boot, causing another agonized bawl to escape your lips.

“I suggest not.” He lifted his foot off your hand and kicked away the knife beneath it. Wincing and scowling, you crawled your way to the sanctuary of your dead comrades. It wasn’t fair. You were supposed to get revenge, if not for yourself, for them. What kind of a sorry Captain were you? Couldn’t protect your unit from an ambush, couldn’t secure them from the currents, and couldn’t even avenge them at the very least by hurting the one man who caused all this. Instead, he stood above you and you were rendered to nothing in mere seconds. His bored gaze loomed over you like a curse, and you understood why they called him Silence. He drew out a long breath as he averted his gaze elsewhere, wiping mud off his brow. He was just as much of dirty mess as you were. Puddles sloshed as he marched away.

“I’m finding a way out. You’re more than welcome to come along, if you keep your hands and blades to yourself.” A barked laugh escaped your throat.

“Why would I search for a way out with the likes of you?” You were already on your feet, pain from your knees and wrists subsiding. His sudden turn caught you off guard, but you refused to show it.

“Then meet a fate no better than your companions’.” He jutted his chin over to where Aeron and Atlas’ bodies laid. The calm, cool tone for such a vile string of words made you uneasy. Being this near him, under the moonlight, without the rush of battle or alcohol in your veins, you were able to see him better. He was not that much taller than you, and yet? He always made you feel so small, so vulnerable and rendered you utterly and completely defenseless…

“I’d rather take my chances with the woodland night.” You took a few steps backwards and plopped down on the muddy ground.

His fingers brushed the muddy, brown locks out of his face. Shrugging, he went on his way. “Alright, alone then.”

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

my makeshift taglist:

@loveyoongles

@stoeq

i had to repost sorry

#yoongi fanfic #yoongi imagines #yoongi scenarios #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts x you

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hellimagines · 6 years

Text

Worth My Time--Billy Hargrove

Masterlist

Request: “Hey i was wondering if you could do a billy hargrove story where the girl reader ends up meeting billy whenever hes out looking for max and he shows up at her house but max isnt there and he comes in bc the reader gives him directions to the next house & she just got out the bath (pretty much the whole scene with mrs wheeler in ST2) except the reader is the sister and they never seen eachother before & they’re both really turned on with one another and end up fucking then. thanks so much!!! (cont.) also in the story i just sent in can billy have short hair like dacre really does but everything else can be billy lol if that makes sense! sorry forgot to add that in.”

Summary: When a certain blond interrupts your bath, it’s safe to say you’re a little mad.

Warnings: slight smut, cursing

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Wheeler!sister

Word Count: 1,207

A/N: I’m sorry this isn’t full smut. I’m sort of burnt out when it comes to Billy smut, so I’m really sorry!

It was late, around 8 o’clock or so, and you found yourself submerged in your warm bath. Your (h/c) hair was pulled into a messy bun, making sure none of the dry strands came in contact with the water or the scented bubbles. You had never felt more blessed in your entire life. For once, you were the only one home. Your parents were out on a date night (the first one they’d had in months), your twin sister Nancy was out on a rendezvous with Jonathan Byers, and your younger brother, Mike, was out with his friends. So you were left on your lonesome, chin deep in cherry scented bubbles with your Signature Soy candles releasing sea blossom and peach dahlia aroma’s. You could feel yourself drifting off, bubbles fizzing at the tips of your fingers and occasionally floating high enough to pop on your nose.

But then. Then the most obnoxious knock you had heard came from your front door. Your eyes flew open, anger bubbling higher than the ones in the bathtub. You waited, not making a sound. There weren’t any cars in the driveway, so maybe the visitor would think nobody was home and leave. But then there was another knock, more incessant than the last. Then another. And another.

“Oh for the love of…” you grumbled, pulling yourself out of the bath. Bubbles clung to your wet skin, and you didn’t bother washing them off- you wouldn’t be entertaining your guest for long anyways. You ripped your black, velvet robe from the back of the bathroom door and haphazardly wrapped it around you. It formed a perfect V down your chest, stopping slightly below your boobs. The robe kept them covered, but you didn’t pay much attention to it as you stormed down the stairs, making sure your visitor could hear your angry stomps.

You swung open the front door, with full intent to wreak havoc on the person in front of you. However, the only thing you could muster was, “What the fuck,” when you were met with Billy Hargrove. He stood at the front door, his red shirt barely buttoned past his belly-button, and his leather jacket around his shoulders. He had cut his hair recently; the once long, curly blond locks were now short and wavy. His eyes racked up and down you, a lazy smirk forming.

“Hello to you too, Wheeler,” he grinned, propping his forearm on the door frame, leaning forward a bit. “Didn’t mean to catch you at a good time,” he snickered.

“Then leave,” you snapped, beginning to shut the door. But his boot had shoved its way through, keeping the door from closing.

“Can’t do that, doll,” he sighed. “Ya see, my little sister, Maxine, has gone missing,” he said sadly, a false expression on his face. You rolled your eyes, cracking your jaw in annoyance.

“You and I know damn well you don’t give two shits ‘bout Max,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. Unbeknownst to you, this only made your unsupported boobs lift up, your robe slipping slightly. Billy’s smirk grew, as he struggled to keep his eyes trained on your own.

“That’s where you’re wrong, babe. I care about Max. And I’d very much like to find her. You wouldn’t happen to where she is, would you? Only take a moment to get an address,” he grinned, briefly flicking his eyes over your shoulder to confirm that nobody else was in the house. You thought for a moment. You could just give him the address of the Byer’s easily, and send him on his way. It would only take two minutes, at most.

“Hurry up, it’s freezing,” you snapped finally, opening the door wider for him. Billy came in, eyeing you as you shut the door and began to walk to the kitchen.

“Wouldn’t be so cold if you had on more than that robe,” he snarked, leaning over your kitchen counter. You snapped your head up at him, giving him a glare.

“I was having a nice bath before you showed up, actually. I didn’t exactly have time to get dressed,” you huffed, ripping off a piece of paper from the tablet hanging on the wall. You reached into the kitchen drawer and pulled out a pen.

“Didn’t mean to disturb you princess,” Billy snickered, watching your every move. You rolled your eyes and returned to the counter, leaning across from him.

“She, and the others, should be at the Byer’s. They usually play Dungeons and Dragons here, but because Will’s been having a tough time lately, I guess they went there,” you explained to him, beginning to write down the address. Billy couldn’t hear you. He was too focused on the way your chest pressed against the countertop, your hand furiously scribbling down words. The black robe had slipped off your shoulder slightly, and he could see faint traces of bubbles in the divet of your collarbone.

“Well,” he said slowly, removing himself from the counter, “if she’s over there and just playing a board game, then I guess she’s not in any danger,” he said, moving himself closer to you. You looked up at him, your eyebrows furrowed.

“Hargrove, what the hell. You drive all the way over here, make me get out of the damn bath, stand in the cold while I’m dripping wet, only to tell me ‘it doesn’t matter’? Are you shitting me?” you exclaimed, slamming the pen down on the counter. Billy was right beside you now, his blue eyes no longer trying to hide their gaze as they travelled your body.

“Mhmm… Let me make it up to you,” he hummed, reaching a finger out to diffuse the bubbles in your collarbone. Your skin shivered at his warm touch, your cold body wanting to get closer.

“And why should I do that? What makes you think you’re worth that kind of time?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow as he stepped forward, his hand sneaking around to your waist. He jerked you closer, your hands slamming into his chest.

“I’ll show you I’m worth that kind of time,” he whispered, before leaning down to kiss you roughly. A small gasp escaped your mouth, but you reached up to run your hands through his hair, tugging at the short strands.

His hands gripped your hips, lifting you onto the counter behind you, the cold marble causing you to shiver. His mouth nipped from your lips down your jaw, sucking a dark mark at the edge of your jawline.

“I can’t cover that up, Hargrove,” you yelped, yet the legs you had around his waist pulled him closer.

Billy smirked against your skin, making his way down to your chest. “That’s the point, doll face. Now shut up, your bath is gonna get cold soon,” he purred, pulling the velvet material of your black robe away from your boob, exposing your nipple. Instantly he pulled it closer to him, sucking on the sensitive flesh. You tilted your head to the side, using your grip on his hair to keep him in place as you moaned quietly.

If this is what kind of time Billy Hargrove was worth, than you didn’t mind at all.

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