#billy black deserves to scream it at the top of his lungs

[hargrove]

              The line between reality and illusion had blurred so poignantly, that neither existed, while both were one in the same. Consciousness wavered in and out of Billy’s mind. Sometimes he’d wake, having no memory of where he was or how he got there. Most of the time he was passed out in a dreamless sleep, surrounded by nothing but blackness. He didn’t know which was worse : being unconscious while God only knew what happened to him –– or being awake without any volition of his own, trapped like a prisoner in his own body.

The Mind Flayer had taken root inside of him, piloting him like he was nothing more than a meat suit. By no means was Billy a ‘good guy’. He’d done loads of stuff he wasn’t proud of and hid any shred of remorse as deep as he could. But the thoughts that pervaded his mind now, the deeds that his own blood stained hands carried out, were heinous on an entirely different level. Billy was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a murderer. At least not until the Mind Flayer got a hold of him –– -

He’d scream on the top of his lungs, fight as hard as he could, but it never mattered. Nothing shown through his body save for tears of frustration and fear that slipped down his cheeks every now and then. No one could hear him. No one could see him. Not the real him. For his entire life, his father had beat it into him that he was worthless and pathetic and undeserving of love. He had lived up to the prophecy, becoming a downright asshole in every way possible. He wondered if this was the punishment he deserved. Surely the world would be better if Billy Hargrove didn’t exist ?

Alive or dead, there was one thing he knew for certain : he didn’t want more people to be slaughtered on his account. Gathering every ounce of strength he possessed, he held on, fighting to stay alive long enough for someone to see what was going on. Had he really been so terrible that now, possessed by a legitimate monster, no one noticed the difference ? The thought scared him, and though he held on to life, he was also terrified. It was every moment his father screamed in his face, hit him, pushed him around.  All of that fear and pain rolled into this one moment as Billy learned to be afraid of a new monster. Neil Hargrove had nothing on the Mind Flayer –– -

#[ I dunno #[ I just wanted to write flayed!Billy #✘♚✘ here i go again on my own ✘ oneshot #v ✘ looks that kill : mind flayer possessed

[yikesharringrove]

Me and my thots

Read on ao3

-

Billy didn’t black out when the first limb clamped onto his side.

He figured he would.

Figured the searing pain would cause his brain to short.

But it didn’t.

He didn’t even drop when the next one hit, chomping into his other side.

He figures the adrenaline was keeping him going.

And probably the other-worldly strength from whatever bits of the creature was left in him.

All he knows is that the final one pierced his chest.

And he didn’t lose consciousness.

Not as he fell.

Not as Max hovered over him.

Not as he heard shouts, and felt hands pressing into his wounds.

He woke with a start.

He shook the dream out of his head, rolling to press both fists into his eyes.

He slid out from under the thick duvet, pulling it up and over the sleeping form of the person next to him.

Like he did every morning.

He scratched his chest, making his way over to their sunny little kitchen, getting the coffee going.

It’s been a while since he’s dreamed about the Mind Flayer.

In his thirty years since that night at the mall, he’s gotten enough therapy to break most of it down, to accept what happened to him, what he was forced without question to do.

He startled as arms slipped around his waist.

“You okay?”

Steve’s voice was sleep groggy, his chin hooked over Billy’s shoulder.

“Yeah, Pretty Boy. I’m alright.”

Steve placed his hand over the faded scar on Billy’s chest, kissing his shoulder blade once.

Billy turned to look at him, taking in the sparse grey hairs Steve liked to complain about, the soft lines near his eyes.

Billy sucked in a gasp of air when he woke, spluttering as his lungs burned.

He was in the hospital, his heart monitor going haywire.

Nurses flooded the room, but Billy paid them no mind, his eyes locking on the big brown ones.

Steve had pushed himself against the wall, giving the nurses room to check him over.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been since the mall, just knows hat Steve’s face looks hurt, old bruises turning yellow and green as they healed.

He was stabilized, and he felt more steady. His breathing still hurt, but he was doing it on his own.

The few nurses made their way out once again.

“Jesus, Hargrove. Scared me half to death.” Steve didn’t sound scared. He sounded relieved. “I was almost asleep and then you took this giant breath, Christ.”

Steve’s hands were shaking as he lowered himself into a plastic chair facing Billy’s bed.

“Sorry.”

Billy’s voice was hoarse, and it hurt to talk.

“How long-?”

“A few weeks.” Then Steve’s face got hurt that same night.

It was odd looking at him.

He looked so young, not the face dream Billy was used to, the face of a grown man.

“Hargrove, you okay?”

And echo of that dream.

And boy did that hurt, the realization that it was a dream.

His idyllic life with Steve.

Nothing but his subconscious. Probably creating something to keep him calm while his body healed in a coma.

“Why you here?” Speaking still burned his throat. He wished he had some water.

Maybe even tea.

Steve usually makes him a nice chamomile tea when he’s sick. Puts some fresh lemon juice and honey in there. They have a lemon tea in the backyard.

He shook himself.

That was just a dream.

“Been worried about you, man.” Steve wasn’t looking at him.

Steve has trouble with eye contact.

Years spent with a father that forced it only to berate Steve for-

What the fuck. His daydream kept bleeding over, giving him all this nonsense about the dream version of Steve he had conjured up.

“Don’t know why.”

Steve looked at him then.

“Really pulled some shit, didn’t I?”

“That doesn’t mean you, you deserve to die, or something. You weren’t in control.”

“Was that night I beat your face in.”

Steve looked away again.

“Water under the bridge.”

Steve once told him he doesn’t know what that expression means, just that he’s heard people use it in situations like this.

“You don’t even know what that means.” Billy couldn’t stop himself.

He just blurted it out.

And Steve gave him a funny look.

Because of course he does. Because this Steve, this real Steve is different than the coma fantasy one Billy conjured up.

“Well, no. But people usually say it like that, don’t they?”

And Billy just stared at him.

And then his vision went hazy around the edges, and he slipped back into darkness.

“Which one?”

Steve was holding up two pairs of swim trunks. Billy was just staring at his ass.

“You know I like those little green ones.”

Steve threw him a look over his shoulder.

“I don’t think the green ones even fit anymore.”

Steve sometimes got self conscious about himself. His thighs had thickened up considerably, his ass getting plumper too. And his belly was soft, doughy, and perfect for squishing.

But the green shorts fit, even though they were tight.

And Billy loved his older body, loved when Steve put on some extra fluff. A chubby Steve meant a happy Steve. And Billy would know.

You learn a lot about a person in thirty-some years.

Steve was dressed now, shouldering a bag.

“Beach time?” His eyes were bright.

“Beach time.”

They held hands as they walked.

The air smelled like ocean spray.

The beach was close to their little house, and they found their usual spot right away, far from any other beach patrons.

“Hargrove!”

Billy came to with a start, back in the cold hospital room, back with a younger Steve.

What the fuck was going on?

“Sorry, you kinda passed out. I thought you were slipping back under, or something.”

Steve looked sheepish.

“It’s fine.”

It wasn’t. Not totally.

Because Billy wanted to live in that fucking daydream for the rest of his goddamn life.

“Sorry, I should let you sleep. I mean you’re probably exhausted.” Steve stood up, gathering the few things he had with him, a water bottle, and empty coffee cup, and a book. An old worn out copy of The Outsiders.

That’s dream Steve’s favorite book. He reads it once every year. He said it was the first book he ever read in class that actually gripped him. The only one he actually took the time to push through his rampant dyslexia to read and understand.

He won’t be diagnosed dyslexic until he’s 23. He’ll feel really vindicated and Billy will take him out for a fancy dinner. They’ll go skinny dipping in the ocean after and Steve will whine the whole time.

Billy hadn’t realized he had been staring at Steve the whole time that all ran through his brain, not until Steve snapped his fingers in front of him.

“Billy!”

“Yeah, what? Sorry.”

“Are you okay? Should I get a nurse?”

“No, I just-” he tried to scrub a hand down his face, found his muscles screamed out at the movement of his muscles after who knows how long in that bed.

It didn’t matter anyway, as his hands were wrapped up in a mitten of bandages.

“Was havin’ a good dream.”

“What was it about?”

Billy couldn’t look at Steve. Couldn’t look at those big brown eyes, couldn’t search for the specks of gold, the streaks of green that he knows are there.

“Future. Dream future, I guess.”

“Do you-” Steve hesitated, and Billy finally looked at him, watched as he reached up to tug on a lock of hair near the crown of his head. A nervous tick he’s had since he was a kid. “Do you wanna share?”

“California. Little house by the beach. Slice of Heaven, really.”

“A wife?”

“Been married for a few years.”

“She pretty?”

“The prettiest.”

Steve smiled at him softly.

“Sorry you had to wake up to me, then.”

And that? That made Billy wanna tear out his own damn hair. Made him wanna pull Steve to lay on top of him the way they both like, pet through Steve’s hair, tell him how goddamn perfect you are, Sugar.

“It’s okay. Prefer your company.”

“I guess I’m alright if the alternative is being alone.”

“Cut that out.”

Steve blinked at him.

“We’ve been talking like, five minutes and all you’ve done is apologize and talk shit on yourself.”

“Sorry, I- it’s just a habit, I guess.” He was back to playing with his hair. Being a little rougher, tugging on the lock between his fingers a bit. Billy sighed as well as he could with his burning lungs.

“Just, I like it that you’re here, okay? I’d tell you to beat it if I wanted you gone.”

And Steve smiled at him.

One of his six real smiles, not one of the eleven fake ones.

Billy can tell.

Because the real ones make his nose scrunch a bit. They make his eyes go bright and his shoulders bunch up.

And he must’ve fallen back into that dream again, because suddenly he was looking at his Steve, his grown up Steve, giving him that exact same real smile as Billy ran wet fingers over his skin.

And he pulled Steve close to him in the shower, mouthing at the skin of his neck.

And if this was a dream, he was going to burn all of this into his memory.

The way Steve’s skin tastes, the way he gasps when Billy nibbles at his ear. The way Billy feels buried deep inside him, in the soft bed that they share, the one that took months to buy because Steve is weirdly picky about bedframes for no discernible reason.

And just as he was watching Steve’s face crumple, as he was trying to memorize the exact noises he makes as he cums, he was jolted out of his dream by the real Steve, fucking sneezing.

“Sorry.” He looked distressed. “You were like, really asleep and I, I tried to hold it back.”

“’S okay. Know you got that dust thing.”

Billy was drowsy. He felt like he was inches underwater, everything moving slowly around him. Almost like the world was a little muffled.

Turns out his last dose of pain meds had been administered while he was out.

“Wait, what dust thing?”

“Got that. You know. You’re allergic to dust. And peanuts. And cashews. And-the green ones.”

“Pistachios?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you know that?”

“You told me. Nearly fuckin’ killed you first time we really made out. I had just eaten a PB and J. Sent you into anaphylaxis.”

Billy felt himself drifting, that perfect dreamland tugging him back.

And then there was a cold hand on his arm, shaking him gently.

“Billy, Billy don’t fall asleep. You gotta, Billy what the fuck? We haven’t made out. We, how do you know what I’m allergic to?”

But Billy was swallowed up by sleep once again.

He was laying next to Steve, stretched out on their bed, Steve’s head resting on his shoulder.

“Today was nice. Haven’t had a day like that in such a long time.”

“We should do it more often, then. Call outta work and hang out at the beach all day.”

Steve rolled a bit to glare playfully at Billy.

“Some of us don’t have the luxury of setting our own hours, Mr. Boss Man.”

“Billy!”

And he was back, back to staring at the pale nervous face of Young Steve.

“Billy, you’re scaring me.”

Sunlight was beginning to haze through the meager window at the end of the hospital room. Billy hadn’t had any idea of time since he got here.

Steve looked like shit, like he hadn’t slept all night.

“Billy, I don’t know if you remember, everything you said before you fell asleep but-”

“I remember.”

Steve furrowed his brows.

“How do you know that? About, about my allergies. And yesterday, you said, you said I didn’t know what water under the bridge meant. And you said, that we m-made out.”

Billy sighed again, his lungs protesting the effort.

“My dream. The future. You’re the person. My person. And now it’s like, whatever Dream Billy knows about Dream Steve I know. And I figured I just, like, made all that shit up.”

Steve was studying his face.

“Okay, then let’s see if you’ve just had some lucky guesses. Tell me what else you know, and maybe it’s all wrong.”

And Billy didn’t really like the way Steve looked like he hoped is was all wrong. Like he didn’t wanna be tied to Billy in this way.

Billy narrowed his eyes.

“When you were fourteen you watched A Streetcar Named Desire with your mom and you credit Marlon Brando as your queer awakening.”

Steve’s eyes went wide, his mouth trembling.

“Your dad has smacked you once in your life, and it’s when you got the rejection letter from Indiana State. You hid the letter from him because you knew he’d be mad, but he found it and hit you and didn’t talk to you for nearly a month.”

Steve’s eyes were shining now.

“Your mom used to always talk about how much she wished you guys could have a better garden, but because it gets so cold here, she can’t grow anything. The house we have in the daydream has like, a huge fucking garden in it, by the way. I hate gardening but you love it.”

Steve stood abruptly, pacing the length of the room in front of Billy’s bed. Billy just kept going.

It was like everything was ready to burst out of him. To prove that he knows Steve, that he loves Steve. Even if this Steve is somehow different to Dream Steve.

“You go fucking batshit over corn on the cob, just with a little butter and salt on there. That’s somehow your favorite food. Because you’re the most Midwesterner to ever Midwestern, I guess. Your second favorite food is your grandmother’s lasagna. You keep trying to recreate her recipe and no matter how much I tell you it’s fucking delicious, you always get this little pout going and explain to me about how it’s not quite right. You only started smoking because-”

“That’s, I think that’s enough.”

Steve looked like a strong gust of wind would knock him right over.

“It true.?”

“It’s, it’s all true. In, in detail. I mean the, the letter, and my dad. I swore I was never gonna tell anyone about that.”

“It took you a few years. We were talking about my dad. How he treated me, and you admitted that. How sometimes you think about that one time and it makes you sad because that was my everyday-” Billy cut himself off.

Because fuck.

He forgot that Steve knows jack fucking all about Billy.

Which means Steve was currently giving him that look, that wide-eyed, nostrils flared, mouth tight look that he always did when he was angry on Billy’s behalf.

It was kinda hot.

“Excuse me?”

“Forgot my apparent psychic abilities were limited to just me knowing about you.”

“Billy, did your dad hit you?”

And Billy kinda saw no point in lying anymore.

“All the damn time.”

And Steve was back to pacing.

“Fuck. Fuck. That honestly, wow that explains a lot. I mean, yeah. I get it now. I get it.”

Billy let him mutter to himself.

Steve always does better thinking out loud.

“You know, I was actually fucking nervous to tell you, but now I don’t care. Your dad was one of the flayed.”

“Yeah, I know. Only person I never felt guilty about.”

“You’re handling this, like, scary well.”

“Technically, I’ve had thirty years of therapy. All this has been processed already.”

“Wait, your little dream is thirty years in the future?”

“About.”

“So we’re, like, fifty?”

“About.”

“How do I look?”

Billy barked a laugh, regretting it almost immediately as his whole body screamed in protest. He wheezed a few times before he felt like he could speak again.

“I think you’re hot, but you don’t handle aging well.”

“Oh, God. What’s the damage?”

“Not telling. You’re just gonna spend the next thirty years stressing more than you already would. But lemme tell you, first time you found a grey hair? That was the funniest day of my damn life. It was like being in a soap opera. You found it and then called our lawyer to begin drawing up a will. And you kept saying how you probably only have a few god years left in you. It was hilarious.”

“Glad to know you laugh at my pain.”

“It’s one grey hair. Plus you maintain good health, don’t worry. You’ve got plenty of time to whine over grey hairs.”

“At least I don’t go bald.”

“Nah. Full head of natural hair. Not even receding.”

Steve brushed a hand through his hair, dropping heavily back into the seat next to Billy’s bed.

“Man, this is too trippy. Like, from my end, we’re not even close, you know? But to you, we’ve been together for decades. That’s fucking wild.”

“Imagine how I feel. Am I some kind of psychic now, or is this all just fucking delusion?”

“I mean, you know too much shit about me for everything to be, like, a figment of your imagination. But what happens now? Like, if we don’t live out the future just like your daydream, is the world gonna fall apart? Or is that an alternate dimension? Like, if the Upside Down exists, there’s gotta be other worlds too. Is that one of them and maybe because you were infected by the Mind Flayer you have like, a link between both worlds?” Steve’s brows were furrowed, his eyes darting all over the ceiling as he thought out loud. “And, I mean, I’m confused. I don’t know what my feelings towards you are. Like, don’t get me wrong, there’s been interest since you showed up. But now you’re telling me in some reality, we’ve been together for thirty years, and obviously you know all this deep shit about me, so do we date? When you know me like the back of your hand and I barely know you at all? And are you technically fifty years old? Since you lived out that other life?”

Billy’s head was starting to hurt, and he felt tired again.

“Sugar, you think we could table this?”

Steve’s cheeks went red as his jaw clacked shut.

“Is that what you call me? Sugar?”

“Call you a lot ‘a stuff.”

“Uh, like, like what?”

“Sugar, Pretty Boy, Stevie, Baby, Sweet Thing, Honey. Mac n’ Steve comes to mind.” Steve smiled softly at the last one, his cheeks still warm. “Princess.” Steve opened his mouth, his brows furrowing, the blush spreading down his neck. “No sense in denying how much you like them. Those are tried and true. Thirty years of calling you all that. Plus a few others. But, you know. Those are mostly reserved for the bedroom.”

Steve’s eyes went huge again.

“Fuck. You probably know what I kinks I have better than I do.”

“Oh, we’ve done some exploring in our time.”

Steve bent forward to bury his face in his hands with an Oh, God.

“I don’t think I wanna know.”

“Trust me when I say, you enjoy most of it.”

“Oh, most. That’s great.”

“There’s some trial and error. But we’re good at laughing stuff off, you and me.”

And then Steve’s eyes went wide, and he sat up straight in his chair.

“Wait, you said. When I first asked about the dream, you said, you said married. We got-I mean, we can get married?”

“Yeah. And we like, make out in public and shit. Hold hands everywhere. We’re big saps.”

Steve took a shaky breath.

“So things get, they get better? For people like us?”

“Yeah, they do,” Billy kept his voice soft, felt like sharing this thread of hope should be kept intimate, quiet. And Steve’s face split into a wide grin.

“God, I can’t fucking wait. Just to be, not to be scared all the time. Of everyone finding out this big fucking secret. It just, is.” Steve huffed a laugh. “Can’t believe it. Two guys getting married. Was our wedding nice?”

“We had two. One in the courthouse, one with everybody.”

“Wow. I just can’t believe it-wait, who;s everybody?”

“Your gang of weirdos. Here.”

And Steve lips parted, and he made that cute little face he always does before he cries.

“They all come? Dustin and the Byers and everyone?”

“Robin officiates. Dustin cries really fuckin’ loudly.”

“And they’re all, they’re all fine with it?”

“Yep.”

“God. It’s all, you think it’s too good to be true?”

“Everything I know about you was right. Don’t see a reason why everything else would be wrong.”

“Then, where do we go from here? Like, do we try to follow your memories? Or, forge our own path? Will the fact that we know about this future automatically change it?”

Billy’s heart was doing something funny as Steve wondered aloud to himself about all this.

The fact that he was all in, dead set on having this happy future with Billy, when he didn’t even know Billy.

“Are you sure about this? If we do this? Or some form of it. I mean, I know fucking everything about you. And you don’t know me at all.”

“I know you well enough to see the good in you. I know you well enough to see that under all your big scary toughness you’re caring. And you’re kind. Although you’d probably rather be dead than admit it. And besides. If, in another reality, or in the future, or whatever, I pick you to spend my life with, obviously that means there’s something in you that makes me love you.”

Billy gawked at him.

His face was hot, no doubt bright fucking red.

Because, holy shit was that a lot.

And even Billy, used to Steve’s passionate little tangents after thirty dream-years worth, was taken aback by how quickly Steve was ready to jump into this.

And all of a sudden, Billy wanted nothing more than to reach out to Steve, to pull him close and kiss him until he couldn’t fucking breathe.

“Harrington, I’m gonna need you to come kiss me right the fuck now.”

And Steve smiled, his most sunshiney happy smile, and the chair legs scraped along the tiled floor as he got up, sitting carefully on the edge of Billy’s bed.

He leaned over him, cupping Billy’s cheek in his hand, and pressing the softest of sugar kisses to his lips.

Billy let his eyes flutter closed, and he put one hand bandaged on Steve’s lap, wanting to grasp at him, to pull him even closer.

But Steve wrapped his other hand as gently as possible around the thick bandages, pulling away slowly, studying Billy’s face.

“I never asked. Is this always how our first kiss went?”

And Billy tried to search his memory, tried to find the sweet first kiss.”

“I-I don’t remember.”

Steve sat back.

“What?”

“Our first kiss, from the memories. I don’t remember. It’s like, when I think of our first kiss, all I can think of is that one just now. The other one is gone.”

An ache settled in Billy’s chest at the prospect, at losing a perfect memory with Steve. Losing their first kiss.

“So, when we do something, it like, replaces the old memory?”

“I guess.”

“So, we can build new ones then. And like, you won’t have to go through your whole life twice. We can start closer to square one. Memories that’ll be ours, and not ones that I don’t know.”

And that’s true.

For the pain of every memory gone is a brand new one, one that Steve would remember and be a part of too.

“Then I’m not telling you anymore. If we’re gonna build the memories together, we can’t be working off of some, some blueprint. Things need to be ours.”

“Agreed. We’ll make it up as we go.” Steve hadn’t stopped smiling at Billy.

“Is it weird I’m gonna kinda miss seeing you all old? You’re a silver fucking fox.”

“Yes, Bill. That’s fucking weird.” Steve took his hand and pressed a kiss on his bandages, right over where his palm will be. “Just means you’ll have to watch me go through it all again, though.”

“God, that’s the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Yeah? That get you going? The thought of me aging?”

“Nah, Pretty Boy. The thought of us aging together.”

“Wow. When you said we’re saps, you really meant it.”

Billy rolled his eyes, sighing as deeply as he could.

“Can it, Harrington. Or I’ll call the nurse and have you escorted out by security.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t. You’d miss me too much.” Steve pressed another kiss to his bandaged hand before sliding off the hospital bed, sitting back in this chair, scooting it as close as possible to the bed. He rested his elbows on the edge of Billy’s bed, and set his chin in his hands. “So, California, huh? When do we head out there?”

“Remember, like, twenty seconds ago when I said I wasn’t gonna say any more?”

Steve pushed his bottom lip out, making his eyes go big as he pouted at Billy.

“That doesn’t work on me anymore, Baby.” That was absolutely a lie. It worked on Billy nearly every time. But what’s he gonna do, reveal his weakness to Steve? Absolutely fucking not.

“C’mon, Bill. Just like, the year.”

“Nope. Not saying a damn thing.”

“Please?” Steve pouted some more.

“So odd to hear you begging outside of the bedroom.” Billy grinned with his tongue between his teeth as Steve dropped his little pouty face, his cheeks going red. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Steve rolled his eyes. Sailing right past pleading and into petulant.

“Fine. I’ll just rot here until you decide to whisk me away to California. Better make it soon or else I may just die of boredom.”

“Jesus, so fucking dramatic. Didn’t we say we’re gonna make our own memories and shit? You can very well ask me to run away with you.”

“Maybe we should like, go on a date first. So I know you’re not a serial killer before I get in a car with you and drive out of state.”

“You’re so weird.” Steve made a snarky face at him. “But you better be planning our first date. I don’t wanna accidentally repeat the other one. Want us to have our own.”

And Billy felt that overwhelming sense of sadness at losing the memories of the other date, the perfect timid experience. Going to the diner and ordering to go, eating while sitting on the hood of Steve’s car overlooking the quarry, talking for hours and hours.

But he’ll get a new memory. One he’ll cherish just as much, maybe even more, knowing that Steve will cherish the memory too.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll take out. Maybe just metaphorically speaking, as I don’t think you’re in any shape to be going out.”

“Ha ha, Shithead. Just make it nice. You’ve got a lot to live up to.”

Steve rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly as he sighed dramatically.

“If our whole relationship is just you holding me to the impossibly high standard of alternate reality me, then I want out now.”

“Relax. The standard’s not that high.”

 Steve made an indignant squawking sound.

Billy just laughed.

“I’m kidding. Just, you know. I don’t think you’ll have any trouble meeting the standard. I fell for you once. I can do it again.”

And Steve’s face went all soft again, and he curled forward to rest his head on Billy’s arm.

“Thirty years. Always thought I’d end up divorced. People tend to get sick of me.”

“Not me. Never got sick of you, never gonna get sick of you. You’re stuck with me.”

“Then you’re stuck with me too.”

#yikes writes #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove

[strangerontheotherside84]

Wild Child (Billy Hargrove x Reader) part 5

Hey everybody thank you all so much for your nice feedback. I originally just wrote this story for a friend and didn’t think that anybody else would give a shit about it tbh. Which is also the reason why there is no regular uploading schedule and I am super shit at this whole tagging stuff…

Tagged-list: @speedmetalqueen @charmed-asylum

Warnings: language, mention of abuse, blood, mention of drug use

„Honey, I’m home.“ you shouted dramatically as you entered the small house, kicked of your boots and walked down the hallway into the kitchen.

You had actually been surprised to see lights burning inside the house as you arrived, your uncle didn’t mention that he was going to be home for dinner. Well now you at least had someone to share that frozen lasagna with. „Woah uncle Lou what’s that smell? Did you find out about the magical effects that spices have on pre-cooked food or-? Oh…“

You stopped at the sight of your uncle sitting at the kitchen table with your next door neighbour Ms Johnson, both of them looking very caught. And what you had mistaken for a very upgraded frozen lasagne seemed to actually be a real home-cooked meal. Well….you had definitely crushed their date.

„(Y/n)….I didn’t expect you to be home this early…I met Helen uhm Ms. Johnson at the garage and she suggested to cook dinner for us.“

„Yeah no worries.“ you laughed. You knew very well that Helen and your Uncle had a thing for each other. Nobody needed their car to get fixed that often. She would also regulary pretend to check up on you to see if your uncle was home. Once you even caught her, leaving the house through the backdoor early in the morning. They were acting like teenagers which to be honest was kinda cute.

„Wait a minute..“ you began, suddely realizing something, „Why did you think I wasn’t going to be home for dinner? I only had class until 2.“

„Well…school called.“

Oh fuck. Shit shit SHIT. Of course they did. How could you be so stupid?

„Well about that….“ you began laughing nervously, „I can only say it propably wasn’t as bad as it sounds.“

„What exactly?“ your Uncle was raising his voice at this point, but no matter how hard he tried…he was really bad at this whole strict-parenting-thing, „The part where you got sent to detention for almost getting into a physical fight with a boy OR the part where you got expelled for, and I quote their words: innapropriate actions with the exact same boy.“

„Well what can I say….I might have lost my temper a bit.“

„A bit?“ he was raising his eyebrows at you.

„Yeah ok maybe a little bit more than that. But I can assure you that I’m fine again. Also, innapropriate actions sounds like we were sacrificing children. It was just…oh nevermind. I’ll leave the two of you alone now“ you smiled at him and Helen, who was visibly uncomfortable with the whole situation.

„Where do you think you’re going?“

„To the lake. To think about my mistakes and nothing else of course…maybe god will end my suffering and let me drown.“

„(Y/n)!“, your uncle moved his eyes towards Helen, indicating that she wasn’t used to that level of sarcasm, „Also don’t you think, that after being expelled from school not leaving the house would be a more fitting idea?“

„Oh come on Uncle Lou…we both know that you don’t know how to punish me for something like that. And trust me I am already punished enough since I will forever have to remember making out with the biggest dickhe- uhm jerk in town…also…don’t you think it would be better if I was gone so the two of you can continue to do whatever needed to be done before I got home?“

„Fine fine fine. Get lost you little shit.“

„As you wish, sir.“ you grinned, „Bye Helen, feel free to use the front door this time.“

„(Y/N)!..I’m sorry Helen..she is….an idiot.“

„True. It runs in the family though.“ you yelled as you grabbed your stuff and made your way towards the front door.

-

You lit a cigarette, deeply inhaling the smoke only to release it into the crisp air within seconds later.

You had always enjoyed spending time at the lake.

Especially at night, there was something very soothing about this kind of solitude.

You were the only one present, as usual. Which might have been due to the fact that it was already december and pitch black outside.

But actually people didn’t really go here anymore no matter what time of the year it was. Not since they found that body which turned out not to be Will Byers, last summer. People thought the lake had been infested with some kind of supernatural bacteria, some even claimed that it was haunted.

„Well if you’re here lake-demons. Now would be a great time to drag me into the water and let me vanish from the surface of the earth.“ you mubled while flicking a stone into the dark water, watching the circles it created on the black surface.

The sound of a car stopping and a door being slammed shut in the distance suddenly pulled you from the thoughts circling in your head. Pretty weird that someone would be out here at 9pm on a monday night. Might be Chief Hopper? He would regulary pick you up at this place, when you were trying to get away from your mom and her shitty boyfriend.

But nothing followed that noise, which left you diving deep back into your thoughts once again.

You just couldn’t understand what had happened only a few hours ago.

Why WHY would you decide to kiss that walking trashbag of a human? And why the fuck did it have to feel so damn good? Worse enough that Billy already thought of himself as the hottest shit in town…why did it have to be true?…Well only kinda. It was just a few seconds of making out, which fair enough even the biggest looser would have been capable of.

Holy shit you didn’t even want to think about what you would have done if Mr. Jenkins hadn’t stopped you…but on the other hand you had the feeling that you would think about that a lot in the next few days.

Ok you really needed to stop that. NOW.

In order to not act like some horny piece of shit anymore you decided to walk around for a bit. Sitting on the freezing stones in front of the water was getting way too cold anyway.

You moved slowly on the slippery pepple stones, your eyes trying to focus in the foggy darkness. How good that you knew this place by heart and didn’t park your car too far away. You were already pretty close to the road as your eyes catched the sight of an unfamilair figure. Looked like somebody had parked their car right here in the middle of nowhere.

Please don’t let this become the next underage make-out hotspot. Isn’t Lovers Lake enough?

There clearly was somebody sitting on the hood of the car, looking rather wasted to be honest.

„Hey is everything alright?“ you asked as you approached the dark figure.

„Yeah..everything is just great.“ even though his voice sounded exhausted and faint you realized immediately who you were talking to.

„Hargrove? Are you following me or what?“ you groaned, „Is there really not enough space in Hawkins for the two of us not to meet every other day?“

„Look (y/l/n),“ Billy began, his husky voice sounding even weaker than before, „I appreciate your overall dedication to being an annoying bitch 24/7 but please, not now. Leave me the fuck alone.“

This made you very suspicious. „You sure you’re alright?“ you moved a few steps closer towards him „Holy shit dude what happened to your face?“.

It wasn’t a secret that Billy would regulary get into fights, but he would usually emerge from those as the winner. But today? The whole left side of his face was bruised, blood dripping from his eyebrow and the corner of his mouth.

He quickly faced away from you, wiping his palms across his face. „I said go away. Everything is fine.“ he growled, his voice now almost back to it’s usual low thick sound.

„I would believe you if your face didn’t look like it was hit by a fucking truck. And trust me I don’t like you enough to pretend that I care. But you look rough.“

„Well you seem to like me enough to not leave me alone.“ Billy taunted you with a grin on his face which quickly turned into a painful groan.

„Alright that’s enough let me see that.“ You took a seat next to him, carefully touching his jaw, turning his head towards you. He flinched as your fingers moved across his black and blue cheek. „Doesn’t seem to be broken..but still…who did that? Did you screw somebody’s girlfriend?“

„Doesn’t matter.“ Billy mumbled, trying to avoid eye contact.

„Well I’m not a big fan of the cops but don’t you think your parents will call them when they see you like that?“

„Nope.“

„..or maybe at least want to know what happened?“ you continued.

„Nope.“

“..or wanna know who did that?”

“Nope.” Billy seemed to be getting more and more fed up with you at this point.

„Well can you at least tell me then?“

„YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT HAPPENED?“ Billy suddenly facing towards you, screaming at the top of his lungs, made you jump a little, „I GOT EXPELLED FROM SCHOOL BECAUSE OF SOME STUPID BITCH AND THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR NOT BEHAVING AT MY HOUSE! AND NO THEY WON’T CARE WHO DID THAT BECAUSE THEY ALREADY KNOW!“

Billy was looking furious, breathing heavily, his whole body shaking with anger. His breath created little clouds in the cold december air and you thought that you could see tears shimmering in his piercing blue eyes before he turned away from you again, smashing the hood of his car, screaming with anger as he jumped onto his feet.

„Fuck…I’m sorry…I didn’t know.“ „Oh really? Thought you knew absolutely everything about me and how much of an asshole I am.“ Billy growled, still facing his back towards you as he lit a cigarette.

Yeah you deserved that one.

„Well I seem to be just as big of an asshole at this point.“ you mumbled as you reached into your pocket, „Here…guess you need that more than me.“ without waiting for a response you placed the joint from your pocket inside Billy’s left hand. He looked up to you slightly confused. „For the pain…if you need anything else..my Uncle’s secret girlfriend is a nurse. I’m sure I could get you some harder drugs.“

“Thanks…but please (y/l/n) leave me alone now.” the curly haired boy’s voice was back to that faint husky state from before, his body still visibly shaking.

“Yeah whatever I was just trying to be nice.” you mumbled not really knowing what to do. You really didn’t like him enough to be any more supportive than gifting him your last bit of weed.

“I don’t need you to be nice to me.”

“Don’t be such a bitch, Hargrove.”

„Leave me alone. And don’t even think about being nice to me just because you feel sorry for me.“ Billy snapped, pushing you aside as he walked back to his car and drove off into the night.

What a dramatic bitch.

#billy hargrove #stranger things #stranger things imagine #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #wild child part 5

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the same sunset - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Whole Lotta Love 

The loud roaring of an engine breaks through the silence as Billy Hargrove races along the dimly lit streets of Hawkins Indiana. It’s like one minute the light rain covered the small town in a veil of peace and serenity and the next it’s broken by the sound of a camaro and Led Zeppelin’s Whole Lotta Love blasting from the car radio and one angry boy screaming along and thumping his hands against the steering wheel to the beat of the song.

Billy feels the adrenaline rushing through his veins, from racing, from the party he’s just come from and from fighting Mitchel Greenfield. From living recklessly. From feeling alive. From feeling something — anything.

He’s going too fast and he’s way too intoxicated but there’s not stopping now. Not when he feels like this, untouchable. What else could he want from a night ? He was the center of attention at the party, held his keg stand record, got his dick sucked by not one but two girls, got to put rich boy Mitchel in his place and to top it all off he got to rub it all in Steve Harrington’s face.

He can’t let this feeling die. Not ever. Especially not tonight.

Not tonight.

As those thoughts run through his mind he can feel the euphoric frenzy drain from his system. The excitement and the buzz make way for what’s actually going on inside of him and he hates it. All night he’s been trying to push that to the back of his mind, numb it with reckless abandon. He’s been chasing highs to keep the lows at bay. And yet they’re creeping back in.

So he’s pushing down harder on the gas pedal. The world around him passes by in a blur of lights and shadows. Trees and trees and more trees. Fields. Cows. A Pumpkin patch. Then there’s houses, mostly small ones. Not cute and homely like his used to be back in California. No they’re all dull and sad looking. Just like the one he’s living in right now. Just like the people here.

Billy hates this town and everyone in it. It’s all pretend here. Perfectly happy nuclear families living their perfectly happy lives only they’re all miserable. All of them.

There’s some diner at the end of the road, he knows Carol and Tommy go there on their soppy date nights. Supposedly the burgers are good but what do these Hillbillies know about good burgers anyway ?

He’s going too fast. He notices this as the street curves right and his clammy hands grip the steering wheel tightly trying to steer the car in the right direction only for it to slither and swerve on the wet asphalt.

If this is how it ends, Billy thinks, at least he’s going out loud and fast. Then he chastises himself for being so fucking dramatic. Then he hears the crunch of the gravel beneath the wheels. Then the scraping of metal against metal as his baby smashes right into the red ford truck that’s parked in front of the diner.

And then it’s quite again. There’s just the rain and the night and the quiet town of Hawkins Indiana blissfully unaware of how fucked up everything around here really is.

It’s really kind of ironic, Billy thinks as he wipes away the blood dripping from his nose where his head hit the steering wheel, almost dying on his own birthday.

He doesn’t get out of the car. Doesn’t even care about the damage he’s caused. He just wants to sleep and mute the throbbing inside his head. He’s so tired suddenly. Completely exhausted. So when he closes his eyes for a mere second, he’s out like a light.

Light breaks through the fogged up window of his car as Billy’s eyes open slowly. His head is still throbbing, maybe even more so and it takes a moment for him to remember why and how he ended up here. When realization sets in, his heart sinks.

He’s caused an accident. His first ever accident. If there was one thing Billy always prided himself with, it was his unwavering ability to drive recklessly and not cause any harm or damage. Apparently he wasn’t even good at that after all, Neil might have a point in his constant belittling of Billy.

Oh shit, Neil.

At the thought of his dad finding out about what happened, Billy’s heart speeds up, he starts to feel insanely hot and extremely cold at the same time. His hands get clammy and he feels like someone is continuously putting pressure on his chest. Suddenly the car feels too small, too contained like there’s no room to breath.

When he get out and takes in the air, still heavy with morning dew and fog, it feels like his lungs don’t even expand all the way. It’s all shallow breaths and quick thumping heart.

He thinks this is what he should’ve felt like last night when the accident happened, when he could’ve actually died. But no, he was strangely calm then. Death seems like the easy way out compared to dealing with the shit he’s gotten himself into now. Compared to confessing this to his dad. Death seems easy compared to living.

Billy’s eyes wander towards the red truck that he’s crashed into. The entire drivers side of the car is fucked up. There’s a huge dent, pieces are missing or broken and everything is just a whole entire mess.

Billy Hargrove doesn’t cry a lot but, especially in public, but in this moment all he wants to do is break down and sob. His eyes are already watering and his breaths are still shallow. He thinks he might be having a panic attack.

How the fuck is he supposed to explain this to Neal ? It’s impossible. He can already feel the sting on his cheek. He wonders what story to tell people in school when they wonder about the inevitable black eye.

There’s so much going on inside him at that moment. Above all, he’s scared. It feels like time stands still and moves in lightning speed at the same time. His heart stopped and thumps a mile a minute. He’s numb and yet he’s on high alert. Maybe dying would’ve been the easy part.

“ Well good morning sunshine “ a deep voice speaks up from behind Billy.

As he turns around his eyes meet those of a stranger. He’s a tall burly man with a thick beard that’s slightly but surely turning from a dirty blond to a silver grey. He’s intimidating in stature but his eyes don’t look angry as much as they look determined.

“ That’s my car you smashed there “ Pete continues as Billy stays unresponsive except for his eyes who seem to latch onto every word Pete is saying, as if it takes a moment for Billy to fully register them as they come.

“ Thought you was dead for a second but then I noticed you were just dead asleep. You wanna tell me what happened there ? “

Where the fuck did his ability to drive perfectly even when way too fast, even when intoxicated, go? It was a reckless, irresponsible and fucking dangerous talent but a talent nonetheless and that was a win in Billy’s book.

Why did he fuck up so hard this time ?

“ I uh — “ his throat feels like sandpaper, his word are heavy as cement blocks. “ I’m dead “.

It’s the only thought running through his head. It’s like whenever he’s trying to form coherent sentences, he’s drawing a blank. He’s dead meat as soon as his dad finds out about this.

If it was only his car that was damaged, he’s just try to scrap together some money and get it fixed but it seems as if his only has a few scratches and dents while the truck’s side is damaged like a squashed beercan.

He’s hyperventilating. It’s too much. He can take a lot, has learned to cope, has gotten used to it but even Billy Hargrove has a limit. And that limit has been reached, crossed and exceeded in this moment.

“ Kid ? “ a big warm hand comes down on his shoulder and Billy involuntarily flinches. Those touches don’t usually come with warmth and care and worry. They come with pain and resentment and misplaced anger.

“ Hey, hey kid. I’m not gonna rip your head off or anything. Don’t worry “

It’s not him he’s worried about though. Billy wishes it was. Wishes that his biggest concern was the stranger who’s car he wrecked. Wishes he could go home and explain what happened to parents who cared about his well being. He wishes things were different.

But they aren’t. It’s a shit show all around.

“ My dad is gonna kill me “

Billy meets the Stranger’s eyes again. He looks concerned. Understanding. Kind almost. Billy can’t fathom why the fuck this guy shows him anything but animosity. He sure as hell doesn’t deserve the kindness he’s coming his way. He’s fucked up. His dad might actually have a point after all.

“ Look, kid. That’s my diner right there. Let’s go sit down, I’ll get you something to eat and then we can talk, alright ? “

Billy wants to say no. He wants to tell the guy that he’s gonna get the money somehow and pay him all the damage worth. He wants to walk the fuck away from this mess. Actually he just wants the earth to swallow him whole.

But none of that happened because as his mind works a mile a minute, all jumbled up and confused, his body doesn’t. It’s like his physical form is on autopilot, following the man into the diner and sitting down on a red leather seat that looks like it’s seen better times.

It’s warm and cozy in here, a nice change to the chilly air of a mid November day. While the guy runs towards the back of the diner, where the kitchen is located, Billy’s eyes roam around the room.

The cushioned booths look like they’ve seen better days and the ceiling fan in missing a blade. There’s only a few booths, maybe 5, and 4 seats by the counter. It seems like they were trying to stay with a red white and black color scheme but abandoned the idea halfway through.

Nothing in here really matches but there is a certain kind of charm about it, Billy has to admit. This might just be the only place in all of Hawkins that doesn’t pretend to be something it isn’t. It’s not perfect, it’s chaotic and mismatched and there’s things in here, like the waving cat figurine by the cash register, that clearly don’t belong here, but it’s not trying to deny it. It knows it’s imperfect and it’s okay if people know that.

Billy wishes he’d found this place under different circumstances.

A while later the man comes back, a plate filled with eggs and bacon in one hand, a steaming hot cup of coffee in the other. He sets them down in front of Billy and motions with his head towards the food. “Eat up !”

Billy is still flabbergasted by the irony of this situation. He’s so incredibly undeserving of the kindness, the food, the shelter. Hell, he doesn’t even deserve this man’s time.

“ I — I’m sorry “

Billy Hargrove isn’t one to say sorry. He’s living life at his terms, at his speed, with all the consequences and casualties that might pile up along the way. He doesn’t say sorry, ever.

Only this time he does because it’s the only thing there is to say. It doesn’t suffice but it’s a start.

The man is silent for a moment but Billy can feel his eyes on him. Not judging, but assessing him.

“ That’s good to hear. You do know I will have to tell your parents about this “.

Billy feels 5 years old again, being scolded for being a bratty child. Helpless, ashamed, sad. For the first time in a long time he’s being confronted with the reality he has created for himself. There’s only so much you can blame on the situation, on his family, his surroundings. In the end he’s the one who went down the easy route. The reckless one.

He’s never gonna admit any of that out loud, to anyone, ever. But that’s the way things are and he’s scared shitless that all his stupid teenage angst and post-pubescent anger is coming back to bite him in the ass now.

He wishes his mom was here. She’d be mad as hell, not because of the damage but because he got himself in a dangerous situation. She’s scold him, sure but then she’d also help him get out of this mess. Then again, he isn’T sure his mom would even like the person he’s become these days. He can’t even stand himself most of the time.

“ You — you can’t tell my dad. I promise I am gonna find a way to pay you back for the damages. I promise! “

Billy is talking out of his ass right now. He knows it and he’s fairy sure the guy knows it too. There’s approximately $12 in his wallet right now and another $23 stored in the shoe box beneath his bed. He’s got no job and he as hell won’t be asking Neil for money anytime soon. To be quite honest, Billy was royally fucked. But there was no way Neil could ever know about this.

“ How you gonna do that then ? “ the man asks, he still looks calm and collected and he even has a little smirk playing in the corner of his lips. Billy thinks that’s fucking weird, this guy should be chewing him up right now, not fucking smile at him.

“ I uh — I got savings “

He doesn’t.

“ and stuff I can sell “

Bullshit.

“ … and I’m sure my friends can help me out a little. “

What friends ? Tommy and Carol are the closest to a friend that Billy has right now and they are barely getting by as it is.

“ Just don’t tell my dad. He can’t know “

Billy hopes that the intensity of his voice, the begging tone, the sheer devastation in his eyes, comes across. Maybe appeals to the guy’s conscience. Sure he could be doing an emotional strip right now and put everything out in the open. He could tell the guy that if his dad finds out he caused an accident and has to pay for the damages, he’s in for a good old beating from his dear old man. He could tell it all and maybe awake some sort of pity in the guy. But his mother didn’t raise a snitch, didn’t raise a pussy.

Airing your family's dirty laundry in public just isn’t something the Hargroves do or ever did. No matter how dirty. No matter how bad. Those things stay behind closed doors where no one can see and no one can hear and no one can judge. So all the public sees is a fairly functional patchwork family that is trying their best to get on with their lives after they’ve been dealt some pretty shitty cards.

The man is silent for a moment, he rubs a hand along his beard and looks deep in thought. And then he looks up at Billy and there’s a pity in his eyes that Billy knows fairly well but hasn’t seen in a while. It’s that look that people have when they find out his mother died, the one he’s been greeted with for months after she had passed away. The one that comes with an abundance of “ I’m sorry”s and “ Let me know if there is anything I can do”s. Billy hates that look, usually. No I’m sorry is gonna bring his mom back. Today though, that look might just save his ass.

“ Look, boy. I uh — I don’t know what’s going on at home and if you don’t wanna talk I ain’t gonna ask. Thing is, I need this car to run errands and stuff. I live real close so I can walk to and from work but getting groceries, driving my little one to school ? That stuff ain’t gonna do itself. I got a proposition for you. “

“ Okay “

“ You ever worked before ? “

No. Billy has never worked a day in his life, not for money at least. Back in California, he used to help out his friend Mike and his dad at the garage sometimes, fixing cars and shit. That was more for fun than for anything else though. It was a nice time just hanging out with his friend and dad and drinking a few beers and working on cars. Just guys being guys. Stereotypical and outdated, probably but it was still fun. Something he wishes he could’ve done with his dad. If his dad wasn’t such an insufferable asshole.

“ Not really. I mean I know my way around cars and shit but — no. “

“ Well, here’s the deal. I need someone to run my errands while my car gets fixed. You do that for me, help me out whenever needed. When I don’t need you to drive anywhere you’re gonna help me out here at the diner. The money you earn goes into fixing my car. Once it’s paid off you get to leave and we don’t have to tell no one about it. But I need to be able to rely on you, kid. “

No one has ever really relied on Billy, in his entire life. It’s a heavy burden on his shoulder but what else is there to do ? It’s either this or facing Neil’s wrath. It’s either this or a black eye. A sore jaw. A bleeding nose. Over and over again.

“ Why are you doing this ? Why are you being — nice ? “

Sure, Billy isn’t an idiot. He is well aware that there are people who are just nice for the sake of being nice. People who just have it in them to show kindness to everyone no matter the situation. But that doesn’t mean he’s not still surprised and shocked when coming across someone like that. Maybe it comes with being surrounded by horrible people day in day out, maybe being a horrible person himself.

God, he sounds like an old bitter hag.

“ Man, I’m just trying to collect some good karma points until I’m stood before those pearly gates “ the guy jokes “ nah but honestly, you’re what 18 ? “

“ 17 “

“ 17! I’ve done stupid shit at 17. It’s just a car after all, no one got hurt. Lords knows I’ve been given seconds chances and thirds. Who says you don’t ? Just — just don’t make me regret it “

He probably will. If there’s one thing Billy is good at, it’s fucking up. That doesn’t mean he’s not gonna try his damn best to get this over and done as fast as possible, without completely messing up.

“ Thank you, Sir. I appreciate it. I’m Billy by the way “

“ Pete. Pete Finch “ He reaches out his hand for Billy to shake before getting up and walking towards the counter “ now eat up and go home. I expect you here showered and ready in a few hours. Your first shift starts at 5. I hope you suit red and white because there’ a uniform. “

Well things just can’t get any worse from here.

Things did get worse.

Billy is staring at himself in the little mirror that’s hung above the sink in the diner’s break room. He’s in a white shirt and jeans but they gave him not only a name tag but also a red bow tie and a ridiculous little hat thing that has the diner’s logo printed on it.

The Early Bird is a cute diner, a charming place really, but the uniform makes Billy look absolutely goofy. The shirt is too tight and paired with the bowtie it’s comically ridiculous at best and borderline stripper-esque at worst.

He just hopes Neil never stumbles into this place. Getting comments from schoolmates who might end up here for a burger and shakes, that he can deal with, but his dad ? Never !

It’s a fairly quiet day today. There’s a couple in one of the booths celebrating their 5 year anniversary and two families enjoying some burgers and fries. Billy has successfully charmed the mothers into buying the more pricey deserts. Moms, he thinks, are so easy to wrap around his finger. Maybe he gets to keep the tip.

Fumbling the pack of smokes from his jacket, Billy walks towards the back door of the diner. Pete has allowed him a few smoke breaks throughout the day, as long as he’s not needed urgently. Billy thanks the heavens for that.

The cold air hits his skin, as Billy steps outside into the crisp November evening. He misses the warmth of californian falls. He’s not made for a weather like this, cold and dry and uncomfortable.

Just as he is about to light a smoke, Billy notices a movement to his right. There’s a shiny dark red chevy chevelle parked behind the diner and on the hood of the car there’s a girl.

Her bright blonde hair is permed to the max and cascades down one side of her face. Her lips are painted a deep red that matches her car perfectly and Billy can just make out the shine of a metal ring through the left side of her nose. She’s wearing the same crisp white shirt he was given as part of the uniform only her’s isn’t too tight. Hers is tied into a knot at the front. Billy wonders if living here for a longer amount of time makes a person immune to the cold weather because there’s no way she isn’t freezing with her top exposing part of her midriff. Sure it’s not a lot and she’s wearing a jacket over it but still.

She’s clutching a book in one hand while the other flicks ash of a cigarette.

“ I can feel you staring, it’s rude “

She lifts her eyes up to catch his gaze. There’s a smirk playing on her lips as she notices she caught him off guard.

“ Well you got a nice car there “ Billy replies and walks down the small steps of the diner and towards the girl. The Chevelle is almost sparkling in what little sunlight breaks through the clouds. He loves his Camaro but this car is an absolute dream.

“ Thanks. Got if for my 16th birthday. Gotta share it with my dad now though, cause someone crashed his car “

Fuck. Of all the bad first impressions Billy has ever made, this is probably the worst of them all. He knows shit all about girls, other than maybe how to woo them into his bed, but he’s quite sure no one’s overly fond of people who demolish other people’s cars.

“ Yeah, I know that was you. You drive a Camaro, I noticed your car at school. People around here don’t usually drive cars like that so I put two and two together when dad told me what happened “.

“ Sorry about that “ he isn’t sure why he feels the need to apologize to her too but maybe Pete was right, maybe collecting some good karma points isn’t the worst idea.

“ I’m sure you are after he put you in that ridiculous uniform. I’m Cleo by the way. “

“ Cleo like Cleopatra ? “

“ Cleo like the pet goldfish in the Pinocchio movie “

Before he has a chance to process that fun little part of trivia, Cleo jumps off of the car and stomped out her cigarette. She swiftly unties the shirt and fumbles the nametag from the pocket of her jeans before pinning it to her uniform.

“ I’d love to stay and chat but I gotta start my shift. Oh by the way, if I catch you slacking in the job I’m gonna get real mad. I’m okay with my dad giving you a chance but I’m not gonna pick up your work if you’re being slow or unreliable. “

“ Uh yeah — sure. Noted “

He acts like a stumbling idiot. This whole situation has really thrown him for a loop. Get yourself together, man.

“ It’s all in the hair babe. People will hear about my good looks and my gorgeous hair and the burgers will sell themselves, you just sit back and watch “.

There we go. That’s the Billy everyone expects. Everyone knows. “ I’m B — “

“ Billy, I know. Everyone knows the new kid. Especially when he’s as cocky as you are “ Cleo laughs and opens the back door. Just before she enters the diner she turns back around, long curls twirling around her face.

“ Just so you know, the hat and the bowtie aren’t part of the uniform. He’s just messing with you, pretty boy “

Billy finally lights his cigarette as the door of the diner closes behind Cleo. His mom would slap him upside the head if she knew he had taken up smoking. She always hated when his dad did it and little Billy had to swear to her that he would never pick up on his father’s vices. But she had also promised him to be there forever, to never leave him and to always protect him and though the rational part of him knows that she isn’t to blame for her own death, a tiny part of Billy still holds some resentment. And that part enjoys his cigarettes very much.

His eyes fall back onto the shiny car as he lets his mind wander. His friend Chase has a Chevelle, they drove it all the way along the PCH one time during spring break. It was a roadtrip filled with shitty 7/11 food and nights of hardly any sleep but god, did they have fun.

He misses home. California and the sun and the beach and his friends. Mostly his friends. Actual friends. People who cared about him because they liked him as a person, not because of his status at school or because the ladies like him. Just because of who he is.

He misses it so much.

Then again, none of them have bothered to check up on him so maybe, maybe they don’t care all that much after all.

Maybe no one ever does.

#billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #dacre montgomery imagine #dacre montgomery fanfic #dacre montgomery fanfiction #tsmstorymasterlist

[oneshots-heaven]

“Would you forget?“

To got your heart broken at a party is one of the worst kinds of heartbreak, and Steve Harrington just got to know that feeling.

Warning: swearing & underage drinking Steve Harrington x Reader Gif credit: (x) 

The music was blasting through the filled living room of Tina’s house. People were dancing close to each other, holding their red plastic cups filled with alcohol in their hands. Ever since the eighth grade, Tina held the most amazing Halloween parties as everyone got too old to still go trick or treating. It was a shame if you missed her parties in general.

The others started slow dancing to the music of ‘The Police‘ as you excused yourself and walked over to the little buffet and bar that Tina had built in her kitchen. 

You swung your hips to the beat of the music. Halloween was special in Hawkins as it was the only time where everyone truly had fun but after all what happened to that poor Byers boy, it felt wrong at first to even celebrate Halloween. You didn’t know why, it was just a weird feeling in your guts like something was still not right in your hometown. However, instead of worrying yourself the whole night, you still decided to come and enjoy the night, to be oblivious and just live your teenage life to its fullest.

Tina suddenly joined you, looking over the crowd of people in her house. Your parents would never allow that but her parents were kind of known to be… quite relaxed in such things. “Oh god, Y/N,“ she laughed while being obviously drunk, “have you seen that new boy? What’s his name again? B.. Bobby?“

You shook your head yet smiling you replied, “His name is Billy. I’m in the same history class as him.“

She laid her arm around your shoulders, pointing outside the big window where a smaller crowd of boys were standing around Billy, shouting his name with pride followed by cheers. “Isn’t he hot?“ Tina slurred in your ears.

“Doesn’t he have a shirt?“ you asked instead.

“Oh buh, Y/N, don’t you realize that that’s exactly what makes him so hot?“

Tina let go of you, trying her best to push herself up on the kitchen counter. You watched her ultimately fail doing it but she was giggling to herself. Good god, sometimes you forgot that drunk people were the funniest and most annoying at the same time. 

She glanced over to you, frowning. “What’s up with Nancy Wheeler and your Steve?“

Your eyes widened slightly but you tried to cover it up, although you believed that she wouldn’t even get it. She was too drunk for that. “Tina, you know he’s not my Steve. He’s just Steve, without anything.“

“Yeah, but you liked him before Nancy even knew him. You’ve literally liked him all your life!“

“Steve and I are just friends, and we never were and will be anything other than that.“ you assured her.

The next second, things started to get confusing. Nancy and Steve appeared in the wrong moment while you were still talking with Tina but Steve was too invested to keep Nancy from drinking more. She was slurring her words, trying to dip her cup in the punch while Steve was trying to take it from her and then the punch landed straight onto her white shirt. Everyone stopped dancing and starred instead at the young couple.

“The hell,“ Nancy murmured, looking from her shirt over to her boyfriend before she turned around walking to the bathroom.

“Nanc,“ Steve tried to stop her to calm her down, yet she was already running away from him and like Steve was, he instantly followed her. 

Your heart sank. 

“See,“ Tina said as both went away, “if you were being honest, you would admit that there is trouble in the air. And I don’t believe it’s coming from Steve’s side.“

She left you alone in the opened kitchen with her words that confused you and on top of that, Eddie Money’s ‘Think I’m in Love‘ had to be blasted. Tina knew Steve and you ever since junior school. Somehow the three of you always had been befriended but it was different between Steve and you. Ever since year seven, he and you had been friends and got the other’s back. Perhaps it was the most pure platonic friendship you ever had in your life, right until high school came around and Steve decided to grow out his hair. He looked like one of those boys from the movies your mother liked to watch and it was weirdly fascinating for you to see how many girls suddenly paid attention to him. In some ways, you had always liked him but back then it felt different than what it felt like now.

It was inevitable that you would end up falling for him.

You frowned as you noticed Steve grabbing Jonathan Byers rather harshly by his shirt, almost yanking him to the side. He told Byers something quickly before he turned away from him, walking outside. In the same moment, your empty cup felt down on the kitchen counter as you followed him outside, pushing yourself through the crowd and past Jonathan. You had no idea what was going on but it had been a long time since you saw Steve like that.

The coldness from the ending fall season hit you as soon as you were out of the house, looking around for a second to find him again. He walked past Billy and all the other guys from your year, ignoring everyone who called after him and before you knew it, you were already following him again. You had to run in order to catch him.

“Harrington,“ you called after him but he didn’t listen. He just kept on walking straight toward his car.

“God dammit,“ you murmured under your breath before calling out again for him, “Steve!“

You slowed down as he stopped and turned around with his hands in the pockets of his black jacket and his sunglass hanging around the neckline of his shirt. At first, he seemed surprised that it was you who was calling after him but then his mood took over him again. “What do you want, Y/N?“ he questioned.

“What the hell happened?“

“I don’t want to talk about it.“ he answered, turned around and started walking again.

You sighed and started to run after him once again. There was no way in hell you would let him drive home like that. Even if you didn’t want to admit it because facing the truth hurt only more, you knew him still well enough. You knew what he was like when he was truly hurt and no matter what just happened between Nancy and him, it had hurt him. It had hurt him badly. 

Steve’s hand was already on the handle of his car door, ready to open it up as you slammed it close, causing him to look up. “What the fuck do you want?“ he asked you again, this time more aggressive but his tone didn’t scare you. You knew his reactions all too well.

“Do you really believe I’m just going to let you drive now when obviously something fucked up happened between Nancy and you?“ you asked back with the same tone. He wouldn’t listen to you any other way.

Steve shook frowning his head. “Just leave me alone, Y/N. I’m not in the mood for talking.“

“I don’t care if you are in the mood to talk or not. You’re upset and you do stupid things when you’re upset and I don’t want to hear tomorrow that you crashed your goddamn car into the next crash barrier!“ your voice raised at him, until you realized how harsh you were being.

You pressed your lips together, looking around for a moment before you mumbled, “Just talk to me, Steve, to calm down. You know me. You can trust me.“

Steve let go of the handle to step back away from you. You couldn’t deny that that little move hurt you in the chest. “This isn’t about if I trust you or if I don’t. Yes, some fucked up shit just happened and I really don’t want to talk about it, can’t you get that?“

“No, in this moment I really can’t—“

Suddenly Steve groaned deeply, interrupted you within seconds, “Nancy doesn’t love me. She just thought that it might was the right time to break it to me. Are you happy now?“

Your hands clutched onto his car as your body stiffened, glancing speechless at your childhood friend. For the first time after years you saw him truly hurt. Steve Harrington wasn’t someone who got easily his heart broken and his head messed up but it only took minutes for Nancy Wheeler to destroy the boy you loved. And there it was again, the weird, empty feeling in your chest and the begging feeling in your lungs that screamed after air.

Tina was the one who broke it to you that Steve started dating Nancy. The whole day you had no idea what to feel or how to feel, what was right and what was wrong. You were so confused. Somehow, you were happy for him because he deserved it to be loved by someone and at the same time you hated Steve for running after that junior girl, instead of going for you. You were quick to realize that it always had been platonic between him and you. How on earth should he knew that his childhood friend might had feelings for him?

You felt a mixture of anger and frustration, and now… now you maybe should be happy to hear that Nancy didn’t love him but that was lie. Maybe it broke your heart just as much as his did. He didn’t deserve that, not after all what he had done for her and how hard he tried to be a good boyfriend for her. You weren’t angry, instead you felt sorry for him.

“She is drunk, Steve. She probably didn’t mean it.“ you managed to say but you knew that that wasn’t helping at all.

You gasped after air as Steve suddenly stepped closer to you. He couldn’t focus on what was happening. His body was trembling, while his hands shook so heavily that you instinctively grabbed them. 

He shook his head, over and over again, pressing his lips together and blink the tears to stop himself from sobbing. “You don’t forget that you love someone when you’re drunk. Tell me, Y/N, you wouldn’t forget that you love me if you were drunk, would you?“

His words hit you harder than Tina’s. This felt more real than your conversation with her. It was easy to deny your feelings in front of her, it was easy to lie straight into her face to keep your feelings hidden and safe. But in front of Steve, you were vulnerable like never before. He knew you better than anyone else yet he never figured it out and still you believed that there was always a chance that someday he will.

You couldn’t lie to him.

You could never lie to him.

“No… no, I wouldn’t.“

Possible a second part if you want? — Here you go: Part Two!

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington oneshot #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things steve #stranger things oneshot #joe keery #joe keery x reader #joe keery imagine

[djhinnwe]

Stranger Things: If Billy Ever Needs a Redemption Arc, This Is My Headcanon (WIP)

The void, the in between of worlds, is a place few know and even fewer visit. Darker than midnight beneath cloud cover, as dank as a swamp in spring, with static akin to changing stations on a radio. A shadowed figure strolls through the dank dark between rows of doors, the station changing between each one. One in particular catches the figure’s attention and they open it to the sounds of music from outside the year they know. With a slick smile, the figure opens the door and steps through to the sound of Pink’s “Secrets”.

    ---

    Pa’s Garage and Diner sits on the edge of Hawkins, Indiana, standing proud along the highway to serve its purpose as a refuel for truckers. Whether the trucker needs to eat, sleep, or simply pick up some gas, Paul Blacks built the Diner to serve the profession the accident of ‘69 had forced him out of. Up until her death Saundra, Paul’s wife, had run the diner end while Paul dealt with the mechanics and gas end of things. She is the one who insisted on taking in foster children, and for that Paul still finds himself grateful. From the system they had given a home to Saskia Dawn, a native teen they had managed to get their hands on after she was kicked out of her final residential school. Once Saundra passed, the torch passed from wife to husband, and father to daughter.

    Saskia Dawn sits in the open garage, her foot tapping to a beat only she can hear while she works on a 1949 Harley-Davidson WLA. She hums as she works, hopping off her stool and triple-stepped to change out her tools. When she finds what she is looking for, she twirls and taps back to her station.

    A bang of metal hitting concrete breaks her attention. “Fer the love o’ Gods,” she mutters as she grabs a pipe wrench and marches toward a shelf full of spare parts. “Can’t get one night o’ peace, can I?” Saskia Dawn demands of the invisible entity. She squats down to pick up the offending rim.

    A black and brown ophidian lunges toward her off the shelf. It opens its maw to reveal several rows of teeth. Saskia snatches the ophidian out of the air and slams it onto the ground. Her heavy boot stomps on its head. The satisfying crack of bone echos in the otherwise empty garage. She swings the pipe wrench down over and over until she severs the ophidian’s head from its body. She picks it up by the tail and scoffs. “Geese woulda been hard.”

    ---

    Fear breeds anger. Fear breeds resentment. Fear breeds hatred.

    Neil Hargrove slams his son into the bookcase his wife, Susan Hargrove, had just purchased a few days before. “I bring you here to start a new life, and this is how you repay me?” he yells, the quiet scream that sends shivers down Susan’s spine and makes Max Mayfield cover her ears even though she is in her bedroom. “By getting in trouble with the police?”

    Billy looks away from his father. For all his bravado, he can’t find the strength to stand up to his father. Nor can he find the words to speak. Fighting Steve Harrington is easy. Steve doesn’t know how to hold his ground.

    “Is jail what you want? Look at me.”

    He’s frozen.

    “I said, look at me.”

    Billy closes his eyes to steel himself. If Max hadn’t opened her damn mouth to her father, they would still be in California. If Susan hadn’t said yes to Neil, Billy would have left and not looked back. He would have been free. Neil grabs his face and forces Billy to look at him.

    “You will not make another mistake. Do you understand?”

    “Yes sir.”

    “Useless felon,” Neil snarls and gives in to the temptation of slapping his son again. “Pull this shit again, and you’ll be without a roof over your head.” He shoves Billy into the shelving unit one more time before taking a step back and turning his attention to Susan. “Go make dinner.”

    Billy takes just enough time to compose himself before he storms outside and throws himself into his car. He takes off, ignoring the sight of Max climbing onto Lucas Sinclair’s bike. He still remembers the thunk of the spiked bat landing between his legs like a guillotine. Fighting with her is not worth it, not that she deserves to suffer for her mother’s stupidity either. She could have chosen different losers to hang out with, though.

    The next time he slows down is in front of the Wheeler house. Karen Wheeler is home, but so is her ingrate of a husband, Ted. Billy hesitates and takes a drag of his cigarette. The thought of storming in and stealing Karen away on one of their rendezvous, Ted be damned. Bastard wouldn’t notice, but Holly needs her mother and as much as Billy doesn’t care, Karen does and he doesn’t want to lose such a nice piece of tail quite yet. She is fun, and free.

    And the knowledge. Oh man, the knowledge.

    The corner of his mouth twitches and he drives. Scenes fly by his window and he loses himself into the blaring radio and the empty asphalt. He could just keep going, not look back. Just like he’d intended in California before everything went to shit.

    Except he hasn’t topped up the gas, or grabbed the money from under his mattress, and the car is rolling to a stop. He hisses through his teeth as he stares at the gas gauge with its arrow pointing to the E. His fists smash against the steering wheel over and over, not quite enough to break the wheel the same way he had broken Steve Harrison’s face, but close. “SHIT!”

    Billy flings himself from the car and kicks the useless piece of junk, still swearing. The approaching truck, an ancient thing that look as though its lifespan should have ended more than a decade ago, does little to dissuade Billy’s abuse on his car.

    “You alright, boy-o?” the driver asks. Billy swings around, caught off guard by the good-natured voice. The stranger, a balding man whose hair must have migrated from his head to his arms, smiles with the patience of a saint. “What’s got your goat, aye?”

    Billy shoves his hands into his back pockets and holds his chin high to curb his embarrassment. “Ran out of gas.”

    “Aye. Cars’ll do that. Normally I got a jerry, but a sweet li’l lady needed a bit of a rescue out the way. Hop in, and I’ll get you taken care of.”

    Billy shifts his weight with indecision. The adults ignore him unless he does something worthy of their attention, and they’re all too happy to chastise him for it. The man seems harmless, but harmless is not always so.

    “Could walk, too,” the man says and gestures down the highway toward Hawkins. “Gas station’s ‘bout a mile back. You look fit, shouldn’t be an issue.”

    With one more curse, Billy storms around to the truck’s passenger side door and yanks it open. “I’ll take the ride, thank you,” he grumbles and pulls himself inside.

    The man’s smile turns into a grin and he holds out a wide, worn hand. “Name’s Paul. Nice to meet-ya.”

    Billy takes the hand, noting the calluses and burn marks between the mottling. “Billy,” he introduces himself. The man, Paul, radiates a steady warmth as he drives. He talks without expecting Billy to answer, and Billy is torn between annoyance and muddled gratitude.

    How he missed the turn-off to the garage was beyond him. The sign may as well be neon, with the chipping mint green paint with red lettering not needing help in standing out, and the structure is...obvious. Two pumps sit in front of a diner, with an extra door presumably leading into the attached garage. A woman around his age sits in front of the second door, one leg swung lazily over the other as she smokes a cigarette. Her dark eyes watch him beneath fringe bangs in a way that make his stomach flip. Instinctively he checks his hair. She ashes the cigarette against the side of her armrest.

    “Saskia Dawn’ll take care of ya, boy-o. Looks like the kitchens need me,” Paul says and hands Billy the large jerry can. Billy follows Paul’s gaze into the windows of the diner where something has caught fire.

    He huffs. “Okay.”

    “Come in when you get your car back. I got some pie for you.” The warmth surprises him. He nods to Paul’s back and straightens his jacket. He approaches the woman, Saskia Dawn by his guess, and gives her one of his most charming smiles. The same one that had Karen falling over herself when she had opened the door that fateful day.

    “What’s a pretty thing like you, doing in a place like this?” he asks with as much sincerity as he can muster as he props his foot onto a log being used as a side table and leans over her.

    Saskia Dawn blows smoke in his face with the most disinterested expression he has ever witnessed. She sees through me. A ripple of power emanates from her and he can’t hide the shiver. His smile only wavers when she asks, “Depends. What’s a donkey’s behind like you need?”

    He forces a laugh and she cocks a brow. Lifting the jerry can, he waves it in front of her. “What do you think?”

    “Haircut,” she quips dryly. She stabs the cigarette out in a crystal ashtray and pushes herself out of the chair. Billy frowns as he steps away to let her by. She snatches the jerry can out of his hand and walks to the pumps. “Pa say you were payin?”

    “He has pie,” Billy said, cursing himself as he follows her to the pump. She grunts and starts filling the jerry can. He pulls his cigarettes, placing one between his lips as he goes for his lighter.

    “No smokin around the pumps,” Saskia Dawn interjects. He flicks the lighter, it doesn’t light. “Don’t care if you want to blow yourself up, but I’m interested in dyin today.”

Billy purses his lips, but the quiet power reminds him of his father and he has quite enough confrontation for one night. He shoves the cigarette back into his jeans. “Happy now?” he snaps at her. This earns him a shrewd smile.

“It’ll do,” she says. It feels like praise.

“My money’s in my car,” he starts, leaning against the pump and shoving his hands in his pockets where he fiddled with the lighter. “I’ll-”

“Don’t worry about it. Pa’s got pie,” Saskia Dawn says, as though he is supposed to understand the damn pie reference. He balls his fists. “Means he don’t expect to be paid. Where you parked?”

    ---

    The drive with Saskia Dawn back to his car is different from the ride to the gas station with Paul. She is quiet, smoking a fresh cigarette and tapping the ash out the window, looking straight ahead. Billy wonders if her silence stems from her father’s ramblings. He watches her and realizes the quiet is just as peaceful and warm as Paul’s stories.

“If you don’t return the jerry can yourself, keep in mind that I’ll find ya.”

    Billy blinks and sits up as the truck coasts to a stop. “I’ll return it,” he says, hand on the door handle. Saskia Dawn starts to give him a nod, but something outside catches her attention. She grabs his arm. The grip is strong, but it doesn’t hurt. Billy can’t see what she’s looking at.

“Wait here,” she orders, her expression serious as she barrels out of the truck and grabs a pitchfork from the truck bed. Billy hops out and she twirls to face him as the night air fills with a rattling sound. “Back. Inside. Now.” The urgency in the order means squat.

“No one tells me what to do,” Billy growls, stepping toward her in a way that causes most people to change their pants. She stares at him as the rattling gets louder. It’s too dark to tell if she’s blinking, but she isn’t rising to the occasion. If he throws a punch, she won’t bother meeting it with anything except the pitchfork.

“Suit yourself.”   

A hiss catches Billy’s attention, just over the rattle. He can’t pinpoint the sound at first, not until the pitchfork lands next to his foot and he hops back to see her fighting a diamondback rattlesnake. At least that’s all he can assume it is in the dark, though it’s large and fat for a snake and unearthly wails fill the air, mixing together with Saskia Dawn’s angry breaths. “Stupid. Don’t learn. Motherf-...GAH!” The pounding of her pitchfork gets heavier as the creature writhes and stills. She brandishes the pitchfork at Billy. “Please, get the sack from the back of the truck. When we-”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Boy, do I sound like I’m tellin right now? Get the damn sack and enjoy the damn pie. I don’t have time for your shit right now.” The quiet power she wields roars over Billy like a tidal wave. His anger builds and he loses focus, the world fading to haze. When he comes to Saskia Dawn has him pinned to the side of her truck with more force than his father had mustered when throwing him into the bookcase. He struggles, but the grip is there and he feels her power and he wants it as much as he wants to hide from it. His breathing slows and he closes his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, because that is what is expected of him.

“I don’t want your apologies. I want the rucksack.”

He staggers when she releases him, knees quacky from the rush of adrenaline. Blood ran down his temple and he saw the broken bits of glass that should have been from her head going through the window, but somehow she had put his through instead. “I’m sorry,” he breathes again.

She grabs the rucksack from the back of the truck, along with a sharp metal stick and scoops the unidentifiable corpse into the sack. “I told you. I don’t want no apology. Should only say ‘em when you mean ‘em, and right now you’re in shock, not remorseful.” She ties the sack off and tosses into the bed in what can only be described as a single motion. “If you want some good pie, go back to the diner. And watch out for snakes.” --- TBC

#stranger things #fanfiction #Billy #Redemption Arcs

[emma-writes-stuff]

I’m ready for the last part and once again thanks sm for putting up with my technical difficulties💕💕

No problem! I hope you like the last part!

https://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=232702376

 It had been a few weeks fromthat night, and nothing had changed. Other than the fact that Eleven was back,Max was officially “part of the group”, Billy hit on you slightly less thanusual, and your nightmares were worse than ever before. But this time youdidn’t have Steve to get you through them.

You and Steve were still bestfriends, nothing had changed there. You were still inseparable. He was alwaysat your house, at your locker, driving you home, etc. But you just couldn’tbring yourself to pick up that phone and call him anymore after he had kissedyou. At school was fine, but at night, when you were alone in your bed, youcouldn’t bear to have him hold you and whisper in your ear and fall asleep nextto you, knowing that nothing would ever happen between the two of you becausehe was so appalled by kissing you he would apologize for doing it. And youdefinitely didn’t have the will to tell him that most of the time yournightmares were about losing him.

So, you told him thenightmares had stopped. And whenever he asked why you had black rings underyour eyes or hadn’t slept the night before, you lied.

That day was the middle schooldance, which you were volunteering at for your brother. Hence, you needed aquick ride home, and Steve was the man for the job.

As you climbed in the car, yousmiled at him, throwing your backpack to the floor. “Hey, beautiful,” he saidwith a smile.

“Hey, Mediocrity At Its Best,”you grinned. “You bringing my brother and I to the dance tonight?”

“You know it.”

“Great,” you smiled at him. Itwas just a small smile, but he lit up inside, knowing that that flash of whiteteeth and the happiness on your face had been caused by him. God, he was introuble.

You yawned, only thenrealizing the full extent of your exhaustion and the toll that going three dayswithout any sleep was taking on you. “Hey, Steve, do you mind if I nap the wayhome? I’m so tired.”

“Yeah, go for it. Get in asmuch rest as you can. You know Dustin and the rest of them’ll be so hyper afterthe dance neither of us are gonna get to sleep tonight.”

You laughed a little. “Yeah,you’re right. Alright, ‘night Steve.”

He laughed, too. “Night, Y/N.”

As you closed your eyes, youalmost immediately sunk into a deep sleep. And, with deep sleep, came thehorrible nightmares you had been avoiding for days.

You hadn’t realized it, butafter only a few minutes, you had started thrashing around, whimpering andcrying out in your sleep. Steve was trying to push through, to not mess withyou and to just let you sleep and get you home, but when you screamed out hisname in terror he pulled the car to the side of the road as quickly as possibleand grabbed your hand.

“Y/N! Y/N, please, please,wake up,” he said, emotion filling his voice.

Your eyes flew open and youpanted heavily, the tears racing down your face quickly and without control.You wiped at them frantically, your breaths getting heavier and more ragged bythe second.

“Hey, hey,” Steve saidquietly, reaching his arms around you in an embrace. “It’s okay.” He strokedyour hair as you cried into his shoulder for a moment, only letting go of youwhen you suddenly pulled away and wiped at your tears quickly.

“I thought the nightmares wentaway. What—what happened?”

Suddenly, you were angry. Youwere angry about these nightmares that haunted you everywhere you went, angryat the world for shoving you in this mess, angry at Steve for making you fallin love with him. You were frustrated, and finally you were ready to snap.

“I had the same nightmarethat’s kept me up the last month, Steve. The same one that leaves me screaming my head off and sobbing myself tosleep every night. Well, every night that I actually go to sleep, anyway,I’ve been mostly trying to avoid sleep lately, it hurts too much to go to bedevery night and know that I’m going to watch you die in a million ways rightbefore my eyes. Most of the time it goes a little something like you and me inthe Upside Down, I’m hugging you and then out of nowhere Dustin’s voice screamsthat I have to choose to save you or let you die, and I never know what thatmeans, and then Dart leaps out of the wall and shreds you to pieces right infront of me, but somehow I can never move because I’m trapped, and you laythere screaming and bawling my name, yelling at me and telling me that I couldhave saved you, that I’m doing this to you, that I’m killing you, and thenDustin starts yelling the same thing, then Mike, then Lucas, then Max, untilI’m screaming my lungs out over it all begging it to stop, begging for me tojust die and let it all be over, until I’m not trapped anymore and I collapseto the ground and crawl over to you, and you just grab my hand and say—say thatyou had loved me and then I killed you. And then you just die on the spot, butI can’t wake up. No, I just sit there with your blood spreading all over mewhether I’m touching you or not, and then I finally die and ‘wake up’ again insome new hell where you die again. And it happens over and over and over againuntil I wake up. And then the next night it happens again. And again. Andagain.”

He stared at you as tears randown your face and you angrily yelled all that you had been going through thelast month, and he felt genuine pain gather in himself and tears begin to prickat his own eyes. And when you had finished, his eyes looked right into yours ashe whispered, his voice filled with hurt, “Why did you lie? Why didn’t you tellme about this, or call me, or anything—”

“Why do you think, Steve?” yousnapped, your tears finally ceasing as you grabbed your backpack off the floorand pushed open the door.

“Thanks for the ride, but Ithink I’m just going to walk the rest of the way home,” you whispered, pain inyour voice. “See you at 6.” And with that, you slammed the door shut with aloud bang.

 ~

 https://www.polyvore.com/untitled_237/set?id=232398726

 You stood in front of yourmirror in your room, smoothing out your dress and nervously re-adjusting youralready perfect hair. It wasn’t that you wanted or needed to look goodchaperoning for a middle school dance, it was just that you were so nervousabout seeing Steve after snapping at him today you felt a compulsive need to keepfidgeting with your hands. You felt awful about what you said, yet somehowrelieved. He hadn’t deserved for you to yell at him like that for something sofar out of his control, but he knew now. And with fear of him knowing camealmost a relief that you didn’t have to hide your nightmares from him anymore.You didn’t have to layer on concealer under your baggy eyes or drink ungodlyamounts of disgusting black coffee in the morning to convince him you werefine. But, you would have to eventually explain to him why the kiss had hurtyou so much—and that was what scared you the most.

Even though you were sure thetwo of you would be able to work it out tomorrow, you didn’t think you couldbear to see him tonight after only a few hours had passed between yourbreakdown. So, you had arranged a ride with Nancy and Jonathan, who werechaperoning with you, and you were hoping to sneak out before Steve even gotthere to pick up Dustin.

Unfortunately, fate was not onyour side tonight, because the doorbell rang that second, and your mother’sever-cheerful voice chimed through the house, “Steve’s here!”

You sighed, leaning your headagainst the wall. You weren’t only going to see him tonight, you were going tosee him in the tightest, most form-fitting, sexiestdress you had ever worn, heels, and more makeup than you would ever usuallywear. The dress wasn’t even that promiscuous by most standards, but themedium-sleeved blue lace top hugged your curves tightly, showing off your body,and the dress flared out just below the waist, making your boobs look bigger,your stomach flatter, and your waist smaller. You couldn’t believe your mom hadpicked it up on a whim that night for $5 while looking for a tie for Dustin.You looked and felt more beautiful than you ever had before. Your hair cascadedin perfectly done curls around your shoulders, and your silver make-up madeyour eyes shine, a glittery dusting of silver making you look magical as thelight rested on your collarbone.

“Y/N! Come on, Dustin’salready down here and I want pictures!”

You took a deep breath andstepped out into the hallway, not noticing Steve’s sharp intake of air when he caughta glimpse of you at the top of the steps.

With each step you took, Steve’sheart was racing faster and faster, his mouth dropping more and more. You wereabsolutely stunning.

Your mom clutched at her heart,exclaiming how beautiful her daughter was, but all Dustin noticed was the lookon Steve’s face and the blush on yours as you tried to avoid his gaze.

“Hey, Dusty!” you said with agrin. “Don’t you look handsome?” You adjusted his tie proudly. “All those girls’heads are gonna turn when they see you walk in. Especially with that hair, itadds an extra foot.” He smacked your arm, and both you and Steve laughed. “Wasthe hair his idea?” you laughed, pointing your thumb over at Steve, temporarilyforgetting all of the afternoon’s events.

“Yeah,” Dustin blushed.

“Well, you look way betterthan he does with it,” you said teasingly, to Steve’s dismay.

After a few pictures with youand Dustin, you, Dustin, and Steve, just you, just Dustin, and one very awkwardone with just you and Steve, a car honked outside.

“Sorry, Mom, that’s Nancy and Jonathan,”you said.

“Alright, honey, see you afterwards,”your mom said with a smile.

Steve looked over at you, surpriseand hurt in his eyes, his smile falling. “Wait, you’re not coming with Dustinand I?”

“I—I’m sorry, I just…” youtook a deep breath. “I gotta go, Steve. I’ll—I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And before he could sayanything else, you ran out the front door and jumped in the backseat of Nancy’scar, as Steve stood inside and watched it speed off.

After a minute of silence,Dustin looked up. “If we leave now, you can still get to the dance before Nancyand Jonathan. We have the shortcut back road they don’t know about.”

“Why would that matter,Dustin?”

“Because you need to get to mysister before she gets into the dance and win her over, damn it!”

 Steve’s car pulled into themiddle school parking lot and he turned to Dustin, who had a nervous look inhis eye as he looked in the doors at everyone dancing.

“Alright, so…we’re here. Justremember, when you get in there—”

“Pretend like I don’t care.”

“You don’t care.”

“I don’t care!”

“There you go, you’relearning, my friend.”

As Dustin reached up to pulldown the mirror, Steve turned to him.

“Hey.”

“What?”

“You look great, okay? Youlook great. You look great.”

“Great?”

“Great! Now, you’re gonna goin there—”

“Yeah!”

“Look like a million bucks—”

“Yeah!”

“And you’re gonna slay them.”

“Like a lion.” Your brotherlooked over at Steve with a sly look and attempted a cross between a tongueroll and a growl, making Steve shake his head.

“Yeah, uh, don’t do that,okay?”

“Alright,” Dustin noddedsolemnly.

Steve raised his hand andclasped it with Dustin’s before nodding. “Good luck.”

“You too.” At the look onSteve’s face, Dustin said, “It looks like Y/N just got here. Don’t screw up.”

And before Steve could sayanything else, Dustin hopped out of the car and walked over to his sister.Steve smiled as he saw Dustin’s mouth say something that looked like a “youlook great”. Those were the people he loved most in the world right there, you smilingthat beautiful smile of yours and Dustin grinning up at you, excited to go intohis first middle school dance. Before he knew it, the two of you began to walk,and while Dustin walked right in, being one of the last ones to arrive, youpaused at the bottom of the steps. You said something to Nancy and she gave youa sad smile and a comforting pat on the shoulder before she and Jonathan walkedin, leaving you standing on the bottom step alone.

Before his head even knew whathe was doing, Steve’s legs had pushed him out of the car, his arms slammed thedoor, and his beating heart was walking you over to the beautiful girl sittingdown on the steps of the middle school, staring at the sky and looking like shewas carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“Y/N?” he said softly.

Your eyes immediatelybrightened at the sound of his voice. You loved his voice, something you toldhim frequently. Nothing about it in particular, you just loved the way itsounded. Sometimes, you made him talk just so you could listen more intently totry to figure out what it was that you loved about his voice so specifically.But, you never found it. All you knew was that when he laughed or smiled while hespoke it was your favorite sound in the whole world.

“Steve? What are you doing here—”

“Y/N, I’ve never been more terrifiedof anything in my life than saying what I’m about to say, but I’ve held it infor a year and now I’m afraid I’ll never get another chance to say it again, soI’m just going to blurt it out now—I’m in love with you.” He didn’t notice yourwide eyes, or the tears gathering in them as you stood up and moved closer tohim. “I’m in love with your smile, your laugh, your voice, your personality,your eyes, and the way you make me feel when I’m around you. And even though Iknow, I know, that I could never doanything to make me deserve you, I just want you to know that—”

He was cut off by your lipsgently connecting with his, your hands intertwining in his hair as his arms instinctivelywrapped around your waist to pull you closer. The kiss was short, but as you pulledaway, the look in his eyes said it all.

“I’ve been head over heels foryou since you first picked up that stupid baseball bat a year ago and jumped infront of me to hit a Demogorgon into Ms. Byer’s dining table.”

“You…you really—”

The childlike grin spreadingacross his face was contagious as you buried your face in his sweater, gigglingagainst his chest. You felt his warm hand make its way to your face, his fingergently guiding your chin up so you were looking into his eyes that looked likethey had been melted into a soft, gooey chocolate. “I don’t think I’ve everbeen this happy in my life,” he whispered, the words making your heartdissolve.

You raised up onto yourtiptoes, pressing your lips against his again, but this time, when you parted,you rested your head on his chest, swaying back and forth to the music inside.

“You know, I should really goin there. Mr. Clarke’s gonna come out looking for me if we stay out here anylonger,” you said with a grin.

“I’d like to see him try.” Bothyou and Steve laughed, your voices filling the air.

“Do you want to come in withme? We were missing a chaperone, anyway. Then both of us can keep an eye onthose little shits in there.”

He grinned at you, his eyesfilled with adoration. “Sounds good to me.”

As you grabbed his hand and startedto pull him up the steps, you turned around and smiled at him, making his heartflutter. Everything he had wanted for the last year was finally right in front ofhim, and it was better than he ever thought it could be.

[thebibliosphere]

How long had it been? Ten years? Twelve?

“Fifteen.” The Outsider replies, head tilting to the side as he regards Daud with dark, fathomless eyes. “But sometimes it feels like only tomorrow.”

[Dishonored fic: One Last Job]

He always knew it would end in violence. But even he’s surprised by this.

“That’s a lot of men,” Daud says dryly, taking a drag from his cigar,“for one old man.”

They’ve got him surrounded now, a petty group of thugs, no more than a dozen men. All muscle, no finesse, and not a single brain between them. And yet, Daud thinks, they caught up to you. I’m too old for this shit.

“Shut up,” the man in the lead growls, and Daud snorts with laughter, blowing smoke through his nose.

“What’s it to be boys,” Daud asks, dropping his cigar and crumbling it under the toe of his boot, “twelve on one? Or did one of you unlucky bastards draw the short straw?”

The thug tilts his jaw up, hefting his cleaver in what is likely meant to be a menacing gesture. But none of them have moved yet. True they’ve fanned out around him, relying on intimidation by numbers—like hunters trying to drive their prey to ground. But even old wolves still have claws, and when he smiles he can see the fear in their eyes.

The Whalers would have run rings around them for fun back in the day, cutting them to ribbons in the blink of an eye and making them scream for their mothers. But the Whalers aren’t here now, they belong to another life, another time. A time when Daud was younger, quicker—a time when the only person to walk out of this room would have been him. He still could, he knows. He can feel the pull of the Void, the tingle in his fingers, the dormant power quickening his heart, trickling down his spine, defying age, boiling his blood…echoing through his skull…

“Nah,” the leader says, mouth crooking up into a broken toothed feral grin, “the Boss wants you alive. For now.”

He hears the click of the wristbow bolt behind him, half turning in time to feel the dart piercing the tender flesh of his neck, feels the heat encroaching down his neck as the sleep dart—tainted with impurities and cut with junk from the streets of Karnaca—burns through his veins and quickens his heart as his body fights the impending paralysis even as his brain begins to slow, his vision turning dark.

The last thing he remembers is the floor rushing up to meet him—and the mark burning bright and hot on the back of his hand.

***

Daud blinks, then blinks again because he’s not entirely sure he’d opened his eyes the first time. He reaches up, feeling for the blindfold which must surely be there but feeling only his own face, eyelashes flickering against his skin as he blinks again.

“Daud, my old friend…”

“Aw, fuck me.”

The Outsider smiles in the dim purple light beginning to suffuse the darkness. “It’s been a while.”

“Not long enough,” Daud thinks, forgetting all too quickly that no thought is voiceless here. Fuck. How long had it been? Ten years? Twelve?

“Fifteen.” The Outsider replies, head tilting to the side as he regards Daud with dark, fathomless eyes. “But sometimes it feels like only tomorrow.”

Fifteen years, fifteen years since he’d last visited a shrine…fifteen years since Attano had spared his life. And Daud still wonders why…why is everything so dark…

He looks around, squinting to try and see beyond the dim glow of the Outsider’s presence. But there’s nothing there, no lights, no floating ruins, no…

“They dragged her from the sea.” The Outsider says, tone melancholic and dreamy, voice fluctuating strangely in the overwhelming silence of the Void. There is no whale song here. No ruins, no visions, no memories. Only darkness. “The last of her kind. And when she bled no more they hollowed out her flesh, and carved trinkets from her bones…”

“Tell me, Daud.” When he looks up, Daud can see human sorrow in his eyes. “How would you kill a god?”

***

She moves like oil over the top of water, slick and iridescent, flowing from one form to the next. The henchman barely has time to raise his cleaver before her sword connects, the force of the Void slicing him neatly from head to toe. His comrade barely has enough time to register his own fear before Billie turns her pistol on him, blowing his brains out and splattering them across the wall where the epitaph “there’s only one way out of this world” foretells the death of everyone in this building. Except one.

She spies the suit wearing noble again, flows behind a wall and waits for her time to strike. She doesn’t use the Void for this one. This one deserves the force of her fury.

All the while she can feel him near, the tug of their old bond—lost when she’d been severed from him all those years ago—rekindled by the sliver of jewel embedded in her eye. She can feel it inching further inward, a fraction of a hair every day, heralding the moment when it will reach her brain and sever her connection from this world entirely. But it is not this day. Nor the next. He’d promised her, the black eyed bastard with the iron scent of the sea and sorrow in his bones. He’d promised she’d have enough time to do what needed to be done.

The door is locked, but a locked door has never stopped Billie Lurk.

She takes her time opening it, nothing left to hurry her now that the building is clear, but also not knowing what she will find within. She used to think he filled the world, his power her lifeline to an existence beyond her own, a wealth of knowledge and ruthless cruelty she’d come to know so well…and even when she’d betrayed him he’d managed to surprise her. Perhaps he’d even surprised himself.

She steps inside, back straight, footsteps bold.

Show no fear, he’d said, drilling the lesson into her over and over again as he lunged with blade and fist, tripping her over and over until she was quick enough to dodge out the way, show no fear and move like death.

“Daud…” his head jerks up, head turning toward her voice, “it’s good to see you old man.”

He doesn’t seem surprised to see her, and for a split second she wonders if the Outsider told him she was coming.

“You up for one last job, Billie?”

“Who’s the mark?” she asks even though she knows the answer, the old words spilling from her lips as though the last fifteen years were just a dream and Dunwall not another world away.

“The black eyed bastard responsible for all the chaos.”

Freed from his cuffs Daud takes a moment to work the feeling back into his hands, rubbing at the chafe marks around his wrists. He looks old. Older than she ever could have imagined considering their line of work. She’d like to say he wears it well, but his life is written heavily on his face, both literally and otherwise from the deep grooves that have worked themselves around his eyes, to the scars, some old and new that detail the kind of life he has lead. Billie has always been intimately familiar with her own mortality, but somehow seeing him like this makes it all the more tangible, like a ship looming on the suddenly not so distant horizon. Briefly she wonders what he sees in her, what conclusions he draws from the gouge mark over her eye—mirroring his own—and the withered gnarl of flesh where her arm used to be. She banishes it, immediately, nodding in agreement as she reaches out with her prosthetic arm, hands clasped as they seal the pact, united by a common goal again.

“We’re going to kill the Outsider.”

#gif warning #dishonored fic #dishonored #the death of the outsider #meta thoughts and theorizing #daud #billie lurk #the outsider #high chaos #when the last leviathan is gone #darkness will fall #ao3 link #long post

[misayuhki]

my fanfic

I wrote this last summer in Japanese first and recently translated into English.  But it never got proofread by anybody, so there must be some mistakes and unclear parts.  sorry in advance.  if there is someone who is willing to proofread it, please let me know!!

This is a story about when Billy was rescued by Flint and others.  

no sexual contents, no blinty moment, no nothing.

if you got interested, hit the [Keep reading] :)

William Manderly and his Darkness

For captain Flint, attacking a Royal Navy ship was almost like a duty he needed to do, and at the same time he believed that it was a right he deserved.  His name Flint had been known across the Caribbean for long.  And he had been feared as cold-hearted blood-thirsty fierce captain and his black flag, a skeleton holding a cutlass and a sandglass, had been known by not only merchant ships but also Royal Navy.  His men worked efficiently for getting plunders against merchant ships and became more ruthless fighters who showed no mercy against Royal Navy to satisfy the grudges each of them were having.

Most of his crew members were consisted of outcasts of England and escaped slaves.  Most of them had experienced some oppression by their mother country.  Actually attacking a ship of Royal Navy would give them only little plunders.  But it was equivalent to the greatest prizes for them to make the Royal Navy suffer.

“There are some press-gang kids...” one of his crew spited, looking disturbed.

“Captain!”  His quartermaster Hal Gates shouted.  “Come here!”

Hal Gates.  Without this man’s support and trust, Flint might have not been where he was now.  Actually Flint wasn’t quite sure why Gates had been believing in him.  There were always some doubts.  But what Flint could do was only believe in him.  Flint followed Gates who headed tramping to where press-gang kids were.

There were a several boys in late teens where Gates took him.  Each of them were chained their wrists and ankles.  Flint noticed they looked terrified to see a pirate captain.  Some of them were holding each other’s shoulders, they seemed to become close friends after they had been kidnapped.  All of them were all skin and bone, covered with dirt all over, and their clothes were all tattered.

“Now you are free,” Flint told them.  “We’ve occupied this ship.  I’ll arrange all of you to go back to England after getting you off at nearby port.”

Some kids leaked hissing like sounds in relieve.  That made Flint having a small smile without him knowing it.  The eyes of those boys twinkled.  Flint felt some warmness in his heart.  Then he heard a boy shouting. 

“Where’s him!?”  The thinnest boy screamed at the top of his lungs.  “The fucking first mate!  What happened to that fucking bastard!”

Then the boy stood up, his body was so thin there was only skin and bones.  As he moved, the chain dangled around his wrists and ankles with jangling sound.  His wrists and ankles oozed blood because of the chain.  The boy’s eyes were opened so wide and the end of the eye was slanted up with rage.  The eyes stared straight at Flint.

Flint assumed that the first mate this boy mentioned was the one who kidnapped him, or abused him on this ship, or both.  Whatever the truth was he felt sorry for this boy.  He looked at the boy back.  This boy was glaring at him as if to attack at him.  Flint thought this kid was somebody and then put a sneer in his face.  Surprisingly this thin boy seemed to be as tall as he was.

“The captain, the first mate, and petty officers are captured on the deck. ”  Flint said calmly.  The boy came one step closer to him.  As he moved, the chain made a big noise.  The rest of the boys were just looking up at this boy.

“Unless we haven’t killed them,” Flint told it, with a smirk on his face.  The boy glared at him again.  There were not many people who glared straight at Flint.  Flint could see the fire of anger jetted out from the whole thin body of this boy who dauntlessly continued to glare at him.

This boy had the darkness as well, Flint noticed.

Flint’s heart was haunted by the darkness.  He’d been living to dispel it; to fight against it; to avoid this darkness to devour and destroy him.  No, he might have been able to live his life because of this darkness.  Yes, without this darkness, there was no purpose or meaning for him to live his life.  His life as a feared pirate captain in the Caribbean.  If he could call his life a life.

Flint wished to dispel this boy’s darkness.

And he thought out to give this boy the only one way he knew.

“Do you want to see the man you said?”  Flint said to the thin boy.  The boy opened his eyes even wider to Flint’s question.  Those eyes were so blue, like a calm ocean.  This boy was looking straight at him and  seemed trying to nod in an agreement to Flint’s offer.  But his rage was so enormous that his body was shaking.  This boy was not even able to nod.

Flint’s heart ached.

Flint knew this rage.  He knew this shudder.  And he knew the powerlessness this boy must have been feeling now. 

Flint waited for his crew to unchain the boy.  The boy, still shaking from the anger, kept looking at his eyes.  The boy’s blue eyes were staring at him.  Flint found out that it was hard to know from the dirt but this boy was blond. 

Blue eyed, thin, and blond.  And who has boyish look in him.  Flint’s heart trembled. It was impossible for him to keep staring at this boy. 

“I am captain Flint,” he needed to look away from the boy.  But it was unthinkable for him to avoid a boy’s stare.  What he could do was to speak.  “The captain of Walrus.  You might have heard of me before.” 

“Captain Flint!?”  The thin boy shouted, jumping a little by surprised to know him Flint.  The boy opened his eyes wider than before.  “That blood-thirsty, heartless, merciless, and cruel?!  That fucking British Navy back away scared and all?!!”  There was a different sparkle in the boy’s eyes.  His cheeks flushed from the excitement, and his mouth broke into a small smile.  Then he looked straight at Flint. 

The change of the boy was amusing to Flint.  But he couldn’t look straight at the boy who stared him directly without any hesitation, with honesty.  The color of the eyes was so..., no the color wasn’t the problem.  The way the boy looked at Flint and what the boy reminded of him made himself dig up something form his darkness. 

“Yeah,” Now confused, the darkness covered Flint’s body and soul through and through.  “You’re right.  I am the captain Flint.” 

“I wanna go!”  The boy shouted.  Flint was absorbed into his thought so that he couldn’t react to it at once.  “If it’s possible, I would like to go where the first mate is.  If you allow me to, please take me there.  I beg of you!”  The boy corrected himself. 

The way he talked and his accent.  Flint gathered that this boy had proper education.  This boy might be from a family of the middle class or higher.  And yet he went through the impressment.  He felt bad for this boy.  

The boy straightened his back after he was unchained.  As Flint thought this boy was already as tall as him.  Flint wasn’t short; he was taller than average height.  But this boy was taller and thinner than Flint, like ‘him’. 

“Good,” Flint shook off the memory and continued, “follow me.” 

The thin boney boy followed him. 

“Is there the first mate who abducted you here?”  Flint asked to the boy when they got to the main deck.  He wasn’t unaware of the boy was already standing in front of a man.

“Yes,” the boy growled.  He was glaring at a middle-aged man who was tied in ropes.  The fire of anger Flint saw earlier was again jetting out from this boy’s body again.  The thin body of his looked got expanded to Flint.  Flint wondered how this anger would affect the boy and what the boy would do with this anger. 

When they were about to decide the punishment of the middle-aged man, the thin boy shouted out loud, “wait!”  So loud every one on the deck took a look at the boy.  Flint saw the boy was filled with the dark power of revenge.  That sweet and alluring thing at the same time destructive of everybody indiscriminately that Flint knew so well. 

“If I had the right,” the boy took a deep breath and continued, “we, who press ganged by this man, taken away from our families by this man, and because of it, we were chained and weren’t given wages let alone proper food.  We have the right, captain Flint!”  And then the boy continued, glaring at Flint with those blue eyes burning in rage.  “Please let me, let us, who were deprived the freedom by this man to decide his punishment!”

This boy’s words made Flint, Mr. Gates and others nod in agreement.  His determination was so strong, it reached to them directly and moved the hearts of pirates. 

It also reached to Flint who had been devoured by the darkness.  And it moved Flint as well.  Flint who had not been able to appreciate and even felt the kind warmness for so long.  Or because of the darkness, he was able to understand it faster and deeper than anybody that the boy’s heart was burning in revenge. 

“I’ll allow it,” Flint felt that all of his men were supporting the boy in silent.  And he told to the boy whose eyes were burning in rage.  “Make a decision by consensus.” 

The boy’s eyes sparkled as he watched Flint (he looked, to Flint, as if smiling faintly).  The boy went to other boys and started discussing.  It was obvious to Flint that the discussion was nothing but a show and the boy was leading other boys and deciding the punishment to be what the boy wanted to be.  Flint waited this sham to finish.  He was so curious to know what this boy wanted to do; this youth who had the darkness in his heart; this young man who had the strong will that made the notorious captain Flint wait. 

“We have reached the consensus of,” the boy said, thrusting his boney chest.  The discussion seemed to be, as Flint assumed, concluded with what the boy wanted.  “I, William Manderly, will be the representative for the execution of the first mate concerned.” 

Flint watched the thin boy, William, that those muscles remained in his body, expanded with decision and confidence and definite rage.  He felt almost sad to find out this youth, only a boy, was devoured by the darkness.  

Then what Flint needed to do was the boy to dispel the darkness.

And in order to dispel the boy’s darkness, James Flint let William Manderly to choose a weapon for the execution of the man.

#me writing #fanfic #billy bones #william manderly and his darkness